#Sovereign Defense

[tmcphotoblog]

[mabaris]

can i say something embarrassing

i fell for the nigerian prince scam in da2 the first time i played it 😭

[truecrimeandtrials]

Trigger and content warnings: infuriating yet amusing incompetence, death, physical abuse, general cringe, repeated disrespect for the judge, prosecution, and others, swear words (fuck, bitch), child death, physical injuries, possible terrorism

Disclaimer: I have done my best to summarize the testimony from the Darrell Brooks trial. I linked a playlist for the trial so you can go watch it if you wish to get all of the information and form your own opinion.

Defendant Darrell (pronounced Duh-rell) Brooks was charged with killing 8-year-old Jackson Sparks, 52-year-old Tamara Durand, 52-year-old Jane Kulich, 71-year-old LeAnna “Lee” Owen, 79-year-old Virginia “Ginny” Sorenson, and 81-year-old Wilhelm Hospel and injuring over sixty other individuals during the Waukesha Christmas Parade in 2021. The incident allegedly followed a domestic dispute. Mr. Brooks decided to represent himself during the trial and claimed sovereign citizenship.

State’s Opening Statement

District Attorneys Sue Opper, Lesli Boese, and Zachary Wittchow represented the State of Wisconsin. Attorney Wittchow gave the opening statement. The Waukesha Christmas parade started off normally on November 21st, 2021. There was joy all along the parade route. However, Darrell Brooks killed that joy and replaced it with trauma and terror. He was fleeing from another crime scene when he decided to drive through the parade. He repeatedly used his red Ford Escape as a battering ram, ultimately killing six people and injuring dozens more. Attorney Wittchow said that him and his colleagues intended to “avoid undue hardships” for the victims. He went through what they expected to present and what witness testimony would be.

Sergeant David Wanner’s Testimony

Sergeant David Wanner has been a patrol sergeant at the Waukesha County Police Department (WCPD) for eighteen years. He was working on the day of the attack and described how the parade was prepared and the route they were supposed to take. His job was to make sure that the other officers were where they were supposed to be and that everything was in order. Sergeant Wanner heard that squads not assigned to the parade were responding to a knife fight. He didn’t hear about any vehicles that were associated with that incident. He then saw a red SUV traveling toward him at “a high rate of speed”. He estimated that the vehicle was going over 40 miles per hour, which is approximately 64 kilometers per hour. The speed limit on the street the parade route was on was 25 miles per hour or approximately 40 kilometers per hour. Sergeant Wanner waved his hands over his head to get the driver’s attention but to no avail. The driver didn’t stop and entered the parade route. He used his radio to notify other officers along the route. He later heard “horrible sounds” and requests for backup.

Kori Runkle’s Testimony

Kori Runkle met Erika Patterson at the Waukesha women’s shelter in October or November of 2021. She couldn’t remember which month. Miss Runkle and Miss Patterson, along with a man named Nick, hung out together at a park on the day of the attack. They later split up. Miss Patterson went to meet up with Darrell Brooks. She had mentioned her ex-boyfriend to Miss Runkle before. She later got a call from Miss Patterson, who said that Mr. Brooks was beating and following her. She and Nick ran to help their friend out. This all happened right before Mr. Brooks ran through the parade.

Erika Patterson’s Testimony

Erika Patterson was Mr. Brooks’ ex-girlfriend and the mother of his fifteen-year-old daughter. The two had met when she was fifteen. Miss Patterson said that she was testifying on her 32nd birthday. She identified the defendant as her ex-boyfriend. She described what she remembered happened on the day of the attack. Mr. Brooks was angry and punched Miss Patterson’s left eye, leaving a black eye. Miss Runkle was mad at her for meeting up with him, but they still returned to the women’s shelter together. She talked to the police after the parade attack.

Detective Steven Guth’s Testimony

Detective Steven Guth has been a detective at WCPD for seven out of his twenty years at the department. He had questioned Miss Patterson about her fight with Mr. Brooks. She showed him where the two of them went. Detective Guth was unaware if Miss Patterson talked to any other officers.

Officer Jeremy Philipps’ Testimony

Officer Jeremy Philipps has been an officer at WCPD for fourteen years. He was not assigned to the parade, so he was on general patrol. He was dispatched to Frame Park at approximately 4:52 p.m. to an alleged knife fight. Officer Philipps looked around the area for potential victims and perpetrators. He was talking to Miss Patterson and her friends when he heard the requests for backup over his radio. He decided that the requests were more serious, so he responded to them. Officer Philipps attempted to render as much aid as he possibly could to those who were hit by Mr. Brooks.

Kyle Edwards’ Testimony

Kyle Edwards attended the Christmas parade with his wife and two kids. They were on their way when they first encountered Mr. Brooks in his red SUV. He later saw the defendant enter the parade route. Mr. Edwards has basic medical training after serving in the military for seventeen years. He made sure his wife and kids were safely on their way home before returning to the route to help. Later that night, he called the non-emergency line to report the possible connection between the SUV that rammed through the parade and the SUV he almost collided with. He was 95 percent sure they were the same vehicle. Mr. Edwards gave his statement to the police several days later.

Holly Berg’s Testimony

Holly Berg attended the Christmas parade on November 21st, 2021. Beforehand, she had dropped her boyfriend’s daughter off at the staging area so she could get ready for the parade. On her way to rejoin her boyfriend, Miss Berg witnessed the same thing that Mr. Edwards did. Later on, at the parade, she saw people “fly” when Mr. Brooks hit them. It clicked in her mind that he was the same man from the gas station incident. Miss Berg’s boyfriend tried to render help to people, but she told him to go find his daughter.

Detective Thomas Casey’s Testimony

Detective Thomas Casey has been a detective at WCPD for twenty-five years. He was assigned to help control traffic during the parade. Eight of the sixty-seven units that took part in the parade were impacted. Detective Casey was 1,000 percent sure that Mr. Brooks was driving the SUV.

Officer Bryce Butryn’s Testimony

Officer Bryce Butryn has been an officer at WCPD for approximately five years. He was assigned to the parade on the day of the tragedy. He heard a driver honk his car horn several times. Officer Butryn tried to stop the vehicle before running after it on foot, trying to stop the vehicle. He never saw the driver pull over and check on the person they hit.

Officer Sonia Schneider’s Testimony

Officer Sonia Schneider has been an officer at WCPD for two years. She was assigned to the parade at the same location as Officer Butryn. Unlike him, she never heard a car horn. She unsuccessfully tried to direct the vehicle off the parade route. Officer Schneider then guarded one of the deceased Dancing Grannies.

Battalion Chief Tim Haakenson’s Testimony

Battalion Chief Tim Haakenson has been the chief at the Waukesha Fire Department for six out of his twenty-two years there. He was on duty on November 21st, 2021. He received an alert at 4:39 p.m. regarding a vehicle versus pedestrian incident. At first, only Battalion Chief Haakenson’s station was dispatched, but eventually, every other station in Waukesha was sent to the scene. The last of the seventy-three total patients was in transit to the hospital by 5:35 p.m.

Nicole White’s Testimony

Nicole White was walking with the Re/max group when she was struck from behind. This was the first time she knew something was wrong. She never saw the vehicle stop and never heard a car horn, either before or after being struck. Several people helped Miss White get to safety before later being transported to the hospital by a police officer. She suffered a torn ligament in her right knee, two compressed vertebrae, and a tailbone injury. Miss White approximated that the vehicle was going about twenty miles per hour or thirty-two kilometers per hour.

Sarah Wehmeier-Aparicio’s Testimony

Sarah Wehmeier-Aparicio has been the band director at Waukesha South High School on and off for ten years. She was walking with the school band when Mr. Brooks drove through the parade. At first, Miss Wehmeier-Aparicio thought that it was an emergency vehicle until she saw people flying. Then she thought it was an accident until she saw the driver’s face. He was attentive and wasn’t looking for a way to exit the route. Miss Wehmeier-Aparicio didn’t hear a car horn, but she believed that she would have. It would’ve been an unexpected sound and would stand out. She didn’t notice anything amiss beforehand.

Kyle Jewell’s Testimony

Kyle Jewell attended the Christmas parade. The high school band was going by when he saw the red SUV strike and run over people. He didn’t hear a car horn and didn’t see the driver stop. Mr. Jewell wasn’t comfortable making a police report, but did anyway after being advised to.

Thomas Greene’s Testimony

Thomas Greene attended the parade with his wife and three children, two of whom were hit and injured. They were nine and eleven at the time.

Kelly Grabow’s Testimony

Kelly Grabow and her daughter Adelia were both walking with Burst Logistics when they were hit. Like any good mother, Miss Grabow made sure her daughter was taken care of before getting treatment for herself.

Jeff Rogers’ Testimony

Jeff Rogers is the president and a coach for the Waukesha Blazers Youth Baseball Program, of which Jackson Sparks was a member. He was walking with the group with three of his four children. He pulled his daughter Maya out of the way but was unable to get to his other two children before they were hit. Mr. Rogers’ son Cayden had a bruised right elbow, while his daughter Riley had cuts, bruises, and scrapes on both legs.

Joshua Kraner’s Testimony

Joshua Kraner was also a coach for the Blazers Youth Baseball Program. He was struck but didn’t see anyone else get struck. He looked for his son, who was luckily uninjured.

Alyssa Gajewski’s Testimony

Alyssa Gajewski used to teach the elite group at Xtreme Dance Group, which she was walking with. Several of her girls were hit and she described the injuries that she observed on them. Miss Gajewski had blacked out, saying that she heard people getting struck but wasn’t able to see it happening.

Jaimie Sutton’s Testimony

Jamie Sutton also taught at the Xtreme Dance Group and walked with the girls. She gathered the girls who had not been hit and reunited some of them with their parents. She took those who weren’t reunited into Chef Pam’s Kitchen when she heard about an active shooting. Miss Sutton thought the vehicle was experiencing brake failure due to how fast it was going. However, she didn’t see any physical damage to the vehicle.

Detective Mike Carpenter’s Testimony

Detective Mike Carpenter has been a detective in the computer forensics unit at WCPD for twelve out of twenty years. He reviewed a surveillance video from Bosco’s to conduct a speed analysis. Detective Carpenter found that the red SUV was going between thirty-three point-seven and thirty-four point-six miles per hour. That equates to fifty-four point twenty-three and fifty-five point sixty-eight kilometers per hour.

Debora Ramirez’s Testimony

Debora Ramirez attended the parade with her family. Both she and her son Isaac were hit. The two went to Urgent Care in Pewaukee the next day, as they didn’t need immediate attention like others did.

Stefanie Bonesteel’s Testimony

Stefanie Bonesteel is the head of marketing at Citizen’s Bank. She was tasked with assembling her co-workers to march in the parade, one of whom was Jane Kulich. She was walking with her kids when she saw the red SUV coming for her. She wasn’t hit since the SUV had swerved. However, Mrs. Bonesteel did see it strike someone. She found her kids, who were luckily uninjured. Despite it being three to five feet away from her, the fear and shock kept her from identifying the color of the SUV.

Adam Bonesteel’s Testimony

Adam Bonesteel volunteered to drive the float for Citizen’s Bank. The six-year-old daughter of one of his wife’s co-workers was next to him in the passenger’s seat. He saw Jane Kulich get hit by the SUV. At first, Mr. Bonesteel didn’t know who it was but knew that she was part of the Citizen’s Bank unit. He later checked on Jane and immediately knew she was gone.

Matthew Harris’s Testimony

Matthew Harris attended the parade with his family. The Dancing Grannies just went by when the SUV went through. He would’ve run after it, but he noticed that his seven-year-old daughter was injured.

Heather Ricciotti’s Testimony

Heather Ricciotti was attending the parade with her three children when a maroonish-red SUV passed them. Her five-year-old son Owen was hit. After dropping her other two kids off at home, Miss Ricciotti took Owen to Waukesha Memorial Hospital. He had a gash above his right eyebrow, which required six stitches.

Daniel Knapp’s Testimony

Daniel Knapp attended the parade with his family and three other families, totaling nineteen people. His three kids were eleven, seven, and three. He saw an SUV driving toward them and striking his three-year-old daughter Kelsey (approximate spelling). He saw no one else struck, as his daughter was his sole focus. He ran to her side and noticed all of the blood on her face. Kelsey was conscious but didn’t understand what was going on. Mr. Knapp made sure the rest of his group was okay before taking her to the hospital. She had a broken nose, a torn spleen, a road rash, and cuts to her face. He only saw the driver inside the vehicle, who he described as a black male whose “eyes were completely wide open”. He identified the defendant as the driver.

Laura Thein’s Testimony

Laura Thein is part of the Dancing Grannies. She didn’t hear anything unusual because the music vehicle was right behind her. She was not struck but went into shock when she saw all of the bodies. Miss Thein went over who else was a part of the Dancing Grannies and who all was hit. Two of the grannies and someone who was helping them were killed. She said that she thought that she was in a war because of how many bodies there were.

Hope Evans-Jansen’s Testimony

Hope Evans-Jansen attended the parade with her family. Her ten-year-old daughter recorded the parade on her iPhone and captured the Dancing Grannies getting struck. Mrs. Evans-Jansen sent this video to the police.

Trooper Michael Smith’s Testimony

Trooper Michael Smith has been a reconstructionist with the TCU at Wisconsin State Patrol since 2004. He has been with the State Patrol as a whole since 2000. Trooper Smith recreated the scene in a controlled environment and subsequently created a scale diagram.

Doctor Amy Sheil’s Testimony

Doctor Amy Sheil has been the associate medical examiner at the Waukesha County Medical Examiner’s Officer for seven and a half years. She autopsied Leanna Owens, Virginia Sorenson, and Jackson Sparks. Doctor Sheil went over their injuries and causes of death.

Doctor Lynda Biedryzycki’s Testimony

Doctor Lynda Biedryzycki has been the medical examiner at the Waukesha County Medical Examiner’s Officer for twenty-five years. She autopsied Tamara Durand, Wilhelm Hospel, and Jane Kulich. Doctor Biedryzycki went over their injuries and causes of death.

Matthew Widder’s Testimony

Matthew Widder is a Catholic pastor and walked in the parade with the Catholic community. He went over who in their group was struck.

Detective Lukas Hallmark’s Testimony

Detective Lukas Hallmark has been a detective at WCPD for approximately fifteen years. He was walking with the Catholic community. He initially thought the red SUV was a lost motorist until he saw how fast it was going. Detective Hallmark approximated the speed to be between thirty and forty miles per hour or forty-eight to sixty-four kilometers per hour. He and his two sons Elliot and Benjamin were hit.

Craig Liermann’s Testimony

Craig Liermann attended the parade with his family. He got a good look at the driver, who he described as a light-skinned black male in his mid to late thirties with facial hair and long dreadlocks. Mr. Liermann saw the driver stick his head out of the window and look back, seemingly excited. He made sure his family was okay before checking on others.

Ralph Salyers’ Testimony

Ralph Salyers attended the parade with his family. On his way home, he saw the defendant get out and examine his car. He allegedly yelled “fuck” before grabbing items from the car and running. Mr. Salyers estimated this to have happened between ten and twenty seconds.

Bryce Scholten’s Testimony

Officer Bryce Scholten has been an officer at WCPD for approximately seven and a half years. He is currently assigned to the criminal investigations department but was a police officer at the time. Officer Scholten was assigned to the end of the parade route. He shot at Mr. Brooks three times but missed all three times.

Christopher Moss’ Testimony

Officer Christopher Moss has worked at WCPD for fourteen years. He was a part of the color guard for the WCPD unit. He clocked into work after he finished walking in the parade when he heard requests for backup. Officer Moss quickly finished getting dressed and responded back to the parade. He was attempting to help two elderly women when Officer Scholten approached and told him what he did. He was then told by a Hispanic man where the suspected vehicle was, which he secured, and found that it was registered to Dawn Woods, who is Mr. Brooks’ mother. Officer Moss helped write the search warrant that allowed the police to search the vehicle.

Carlos Arechiga Nolasco’s Testimony

Carlos Arechiga Nolasco was at home when he heard a screech from outside. He looked out his window and saw someone jump over the hood of an unknown damaged car and run away. Mr. Nolasco asked his downstairs neighbors if they knew anything about the car. They didn’t and were also confused.

Sean Backler’s Testimony

Sean Backler was working outside his house around 4:49 p.m. when he heard noises around his garage. He found the defendant and asked who he was. The defendant asked Mr. Backler to call him an Uber, but he refused and asked him to leave his property. Mr. Brooks hesitantly complied. Mr. Backler called the non-emergency line and described what the defendant was wearing when they met.

Domanic Caproon’s Testimony

Domanic Caproon was putting water jugs into his truck when he was approached by Mr. Brooks. He allowed him to use his phone to call an Uber.

Erin Cordes’s Testimony

Erin Cordes attended the parade with her husband and two children. They saw Officer Scholten fire at the red SUV. Mrs. Cordes and her family were on their way to their car when they were approached by Mr. Brooks, who she said wasn’t dressed appropriately for the weather. She hesitantly let him use her phone to call his mom.

Anthony Winters’ Testimony

Anthony Winters was driving for Lyft, which is a similar service to Uber. He got a ride request from someone named Dawn at 550 Elizabeth Street, the address of Aries Industries. Mr. Winters was told by the person who requested the ride that it was for someone else and was given a description. No one showed up, so he left the address.

Daniel Rider’s Testimony

Daniel Rider lives across the street from Aries Industries and was home alone when Mr. Brooks rang his doorbell around five p.m. He said that was homeless and needed to check on where his Uber was. Mr. Rider allowed him inside to use his phone and warm up. He also made Mr. Brooks a sandwich, seeing how he was under the impression that he was homeless. Mr. Brooks was thankful for Mr. Rider’s kindness and willingly left when he was asked to. He was arrested on the porch. Mr. Rider gave footage from his ring camera over to police.

Officer Rebecca Carpenter’s Testimony

Officer Rebecca Carpenter is an officer at Big Bend PD, a patrol officer in East Troy, and an assistant chief in Eagle. She was on duty but was not assigned to the parade. She was one of the officers who arrested Mr. Brooks. Several items were found in his pockets, including the sandwich that Mr. Rider made for him. Officer Carpenter found the sandwich while a different officer found the other items.

Officer Garrett Luling’s Testimony

Officer Garrett Luling is an officer at WCPD and was one of the officers who arrested Mr. Brooks.

Officer Draelon Leija’s Testimony

Officer Draelon Leija has been an officer at WCPD for two years. He reported to Memorial Hospital, where he met with Detectives Jay Carpenter and Stern. Officer Leija was tasked with transporting Mr. Brooks to the Muskego Police Department from the hospital.

Detective Jay Carpenter’s Testimony

Detective Jay Carpenter has been a detective at WPF for five of his eighteen years. He was a part of the color guard as well. He reported to Elizabeth Street after going on duty. Detective Carpenter interrogated Mr. Brooks twice. The FBI was present during the first interrogation, as it wasn’t clear if the attack involved terrorism. The recordings for both interrogations were played with prior bad acts excluded pursuant to a prior ruling made by the judge.

Juan Marquez’s Testimony

Juan Marquez was a defense witness who was called out of turn due to the scheduling of the translator that he needed. His testimony interrupted Detective Carpenter’s testimony because of this. Mr. Marquez was walking in the parade with his wife and son in the Catholic community. He heard no horn, so he didn’t see anything unusual when he was hit from behind. He was interviewed by an FBI agent.

Detective Jay Carpenter’s Continued Testimony

Detective Jay Carpenter resumed his testimony after Mr. Marquez. The first interrogation he had with Mr. Brooks happened at Memorial Hospital. The second happened at the Muskego Police Department, which was their temporary base while the main building was under construction.

Steven Schlomann’s Testimony

Steven Schlomann is the IT director for the Waukesha school district. He reviewed and handed surveillance over to the police.

Robert Stone II’s Testimony

Robert Stone II lives in Waukesha. He has security cameras on his house that caught Mr. Brooks go by. He provided the footage to police.

Andrew Amerson’s Testimony

Andrew Amerson lives in Waukesha. He has security cameras on his house that caught Mr. Brooks go by. He provided the footage to police.

Leonard Miller’s Testimony

Leonard Miller lives in Waukesha. He has security cameras on his house that caught Mr. Brooks go by. He provided the footage to police via email. He was on his way to look at Christmas lights when he saw a SWAT team in front of his home.

Kyle Becker’s Testimony

Kyle Becker is a specialist at WCPD, but I didn’t hear what he specializes in. He was part of the team that searched for Mr. Brooks’ discarded items, which were his sandals and hoodie.

After Mr. Becker’s testimony, the jury went to view the red SUV before they were released for lunch.

Justin Rowe’s Testimony

Detective Justin Rowe was also part of the search for Mr. Brooks’ items. He also obtained surveillance videos.

Ryan Schultz’s Testimony

Ryan Schultz is a reconstructionist with the Wisconsin State Patrol. He examined the red SUV.

Chris Johnson’s Testimony

Chris Johnson is a crime scene analyst at the state crime lab. He also examined the red SUV.

Trevor Naleid’s Testimony

Trevor Naleid was the senior forensic scientist in the DNA analysis unit at the state crime lab. He tested the DNA from the car.

The State rested.

Defense’s Opening Statement

Mr. Brooks deferred his opening statement until the beginning of his case. He said that there are always two sides to a story and that it’s easy to forget the other side of the coin. Although tragic, this attack wasn’t planned or intentional and there was a lot of suffering because of it.

State of Wisconsin’s Testimony

Mr. Brooks attempted to call the State of Wisconsin to the stand, which was quickly shut down.

Nicholas Kirby’s Testimony

Nicholas Kirby was the second witness Mr. Brooks called during his case, or the third witness if you include Mr. Marquez. He was walking with Miss Runkle and Miss Patterson, whom he advised not to meet up with Mr. Brooks. He said that he had a bad feeling that something would happen if they did. And he was right. Both Miss Runkle and Mr. Kirby ran to help her. He informed an officer they ran into on their way to help. He believed that the involvement of a knife was a miscommunication, as he had a knife injury from a previous incident that was unrelated to Mr. Brooks.

Heather Riemer’s Testimony

Heather Riemer attended the parade with her husband and three of their friends. She heard honking, but she wasn’t sure if it came from the red SUV or another vehicle. No one in Mrs. Riemer’s group was injured.

Douglas Kolar’s Testimony

Douglas Kolar attended the parade with his daughter, who was in the parade. He grabbed his daughter after Mr. Brooks drove through and hurried her to their car. Neither was injured.

Detective Steven Guth’s Testimony

Detective Steven Guth was recalled as a defense witness. He said that he was originally off duty on November 21st, 2021.

Erika Patterson’s Testimony

Erika Patterson was recalled as a defense witness. She said that she first met Mr. Brooks in Reno, Nevada. She said that she called Mr. Kirby’s phone because Miss Runkle’s phone kept going to voicemail.

Deanna Aldrich’s Testimony

Deanna Aldrich was home when she heard a noise. She saw a car that was “smashed to smithereens” when she looked outside. She saw someone running away but was unable to get a clear description since she didn’t have her glasses on.

Christopher Bertram’s Testimony

Christopher Bertram was taking his mother’s car to a mechanic friend when he saw a smashed-up car and the driver. He didn’t remember the description of the driver he provided to law enforcement.

Jason Hayes’s Testimony

Jason Hayes attended the parade with his daughter. He heard a horn, but didn’t see anyone get struck.

Abel Lazcano’s Testimony

Abel Lazcano attended the parade with his wife and daughter. He was the Hispanic male who reported the location the SUV was found.

Kathleen Yourell’s Testimony

Kathleen Yourell’s four children participated in the parade, all of whom were hit. She thankfully never saw them get hit. Mrs. Yourell described the injuries that her children had.

Katrice Babiasz’s Testimony

Katrice Babiasz has been a law enforcement dispatch supervisor for sixteen years. She attended the parade with her family. They were set up near the beginning and saw the SUV enter the parade route. Mrs. Babiasz heard the driver honking the horn and gesturing. She said that he seemed to look “through” her, which was very frightening for her. She was struck, but she didn’t tell anyone since no one asked. Although Mrs. Babiasz never saw anyone get struck, it seemed to her that the driver was trying to strike people.

Judge Dorrow closed Mr. Brooks’ defense case for him.

State’s Closing Argument

District Attorney Sue Opper delivered the closing argument for the State. She expressed gratitude towards the jury from the prosecution team. Because Mr. Brooks kept asking witnesses about it, she said that they represent the plaintiff, which was/is the State of Wisconsin. Attorney Opper said that it is their job to enforce when the laws that people set up are violated. She asked them to obey Judge Dorrow’s instructions before going over the charges, evidence, and witness testimony. They only included those who were hit by the defendant in the charges to keep things more efficient.

Defense’s Closing Argument

Despite being told not to, Mr. Brooks immediately tried to bring up jury nullification, which, according to FindLaw, is the jury’s power to acquit a defendant despite finding them guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. He reiterated from his opening that this wasn’t intentional. Mr. Brooks then tried to sympathize with the jury, saying that he never got to meet his newborn grandson and that he believes in Jesus. He implored the jury to “do what’s right”.

State’s Rebuttal Closing Arguments

Attorney Opper called Mr. Brooks out during her rebuttal arguments, saying that it doesn’t matter that he “profess[es] to be the finest man under God that you can be” after he ran over children.

Mr. Brooks’ Conduct During the Trial

Mr. Brooks interrupted Judge Jennifer Dorrow several times during the trial. Judge Dorrow was very calm and patient with him. She gave him several chances on multiple occasions throughout the trial to get his act together before having him removed to another courtroom. He appeared over video conference, where Judge Dorrow could mute him if need be. During one of these times on the first day, Mr. Brooks had a tantrum and took his shirt off. When questioning the witnesses, Mr. Brooks would ask them about the plaintiff and who they were. It came across as if he didn’t understand how the state of Wisconsin could be the plaintiff in his case. However, according to Wikipedia, it is a tactic sovereign citizens use during trial. Judge Dorrow admonished Mr. Brooks on day three, saying that his not understanding of the law was no longer an excuse now that they were at trial. Mr. Brooks seemed to be more intimidated by the male witnesses than the female witnesses. This seems to be deep-rooted misogyny. Something he said that might prove this is “Remember, non-response is consent”. This doesn’t necessarily pertain to Mr. Brooks’ conduct during the trial, but there was a tornado warning on the fifth day, so Judge Dorrow stopped his cross-examination of Daniel Knapp to take an early lunch break so that everyone could stay safe during the warning. He was able to continue afterward, then court went into recess for the day so everyone who lived in the area could make sure their properties and loved ones were safe. On day thirteen, while he was in the other courtroom, Mr. Brooks kept making box forts with his evidence boxes and at one point could be heard yelling, despite being muted. He kept mispronouncing words. I know that some of it was African American Vernacular English or AAVE, but there were some words that he just plain old butchered. The most common was the word “tacit”. It is pronounced “Tas-it”, but he kept saying “tack-it”. He also kept saying “substain” instead of “sustain”. He said it so much that I caught myself writing “substain” while I was taking notes. On day six, Mr. Brooks went on a fifty-minute rant about some SovCit BS. He brought up that Judge Dorrow knew someone who was involved with this case and asked her why she would have their phone number if they had a “strictly professional relationship”. There are several reasons as to why co-workers may exchange phone numbers. The first thing that comes to mind for me is maybe one of them got into a car accident and needs a ride to work or something. During sentencing, Judge Dorrow disclosed that Mr. Brooks had previously been diagnosed with antisocial personality disorder, which is commonly associated with psychopathy and sociopathy. A doctor wrote in her report from a pre-trial evaluation that she found nothing that could corroborate that he was exhibiting “signs of impaired reality” before the incident. Mr. Brooks said “grounds” seven hundred and forty-four times, “lawful law” twenty-one times, “objection” one thousand five hundred and twenty-one times, and brought up subject matter jurisdiction eighty-three times.

Verdict and Sentencing

1st Degree Intentional Homicide (6 counts): guilty

1st Degree Recklessly Endangering Safety (61 counts): guilty

Hit and Run–Involve Death (6 counts): guilty

Bail Jumping–Felony (2 counts): guilty

Battery (1 count): guilty

Battery (1 count): dismissed

Homicide by Veh. Use–Control. Substance (6 counts): dismissed

Darrell Brooks was sentenced to six consecutive life sentences plus seven hundred sixty-eight and a half years. He was also ordered to pay restitution.

Personal Opinions

These are just my opinions. Feel free to disagree, but keep it as respectful as possible. I believe Darrell kept objecting just as an excuse to disrupt and/or stall the proceedings. However, for someone who had no knowledge of the law, I’m surprised that a few of his objections were sustained. In my opinion, Officer Moss kinda looks like Lin Manuel Miranda. Also, Daniel Rider was very kind to let Darrell into his house, even though it was under false pretenses. I also believe that he inadvertently stalled him long enough for the police to find and arrest him.

[kakushino]

The Queen

Ryomen Sukuna x F! Reader

He never orders you around - rather, he requests.

Tags: slight gore, suggestive, fem reader, true form Sukuna Word count: 1,7k

Masterlist

AN: Fanart used in banner made by the amazing @innaillus - be sure to check out their divine fanart Written as a Secret Santa's gift for @zoyakuna - Merry (early) Christmas! (and pls stop slandering Giyuu, it's causing me undue stress)

There was little to amuse you in your secluded throne room underground. 

Correction - there had been little to amuse you out of your throne room, so you had retreated back into your palace - and even then, was it a palace, when there were no servants, no great halls, no music, and no consort?

Just you - the Supreme Sovereign - and your throne made of roots and vines. 

Which made it odd to hear a sound echo in your chamber. You feared nothing, no one, and your heart remained steady, not a beat out of place, your eyes closed as you rested from lifetimes of exhaustion.

“Who goes there?” you called out, not moving from your reclined position. 

You were it to him, the holy grail of his searching - the Queen of Curses. Your name was feared enough that it had been scratched out from all written sources, the feats accredited to you terrifying… yet thrilling to Sukuna. He had needed to meet you, though he knew not why… A deep hunger for companionship, another who could stand at his level, who could reign with him from his Shrine, a craving so consuming he nearly went mad with his searching. 

And he did find you, though hardly in the condition he thought he would.

“This is what You have become? The cynosure of all mortals reduced to a wretch.” 

The voice was rough, forceful - distinctly male - though the tone held a hint of remorse and confusion. “All beauty is short-lived,” was all you said, a slight irritation churning your stomach for the first time in - decades, centuries, millenia? Who knows?

“Not for curses. We are eternal.” You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, and intense. It lashed out at your own, but like water parting around a blade, yours did too, accepting and redirecting the angry force, dispersing it, and eventually absorbing it. It was like taking a deep breath of fresh air after being suffocated under the weight of the world, a drop of water quenching a soul-deep thirst in the desert of life.

You opened your eyes and sat up properly as you studied him.

The man - curse - was tall, broad, and regal. A king would be a title befitting his posture. His hair was a light color you could hardly make out in the darkness of your abode. The dark marks adorning his face stood out starkly against his skin, as did the shape of the disfigured flesh on the right side of his face. Four gleaming eyes were focused on you, four arms relaxed at his sides.

This man was fascinating, and beautiful; he could easily sway the hearts of humans, bring them to their knees. Too bad you were not human.

“Join me, your Majesty.” Despite the wording, it was a plea. How odd. 

“Who are you to ask anything of me?” You blinked slowly. You felt the way cursed energy swirled around him - violent, intense, … defensive, lonely. It enticed you, spoke to you in a language you understood all too well. It wasn’t in your nature to deny an honest request.

“Ryomen Sukuna, your Majesty,” he introduced himself. There was a sense of pride in the way he spoke, as if his existence was created, carved out, into the world by his own hands.

Perhaps Ryomen Sukuna would be the cure to your continued boredom. 

You stood up from your throne, your figure hardly atrophied as your cursed energy kept you in peak form. The roots and vines retreated into the cave walls, leaving no trace of your royal seat, the chamber empty again for centuries to come.

“Very well.”

Living with Sukuna was hardly boring. Each day, you felt your apathy falling away as you spent time with the King of Curses, until you smiled freely in his presence. The day you realized he softened you to this degree came all too suddenly.

His cruelty to humans who sought to undermine him was but a flimsy curtain of who he truly was. Like a displeased cat, claws exposed, he scratched up those daring to approach him, but with you -

With you he was as playful and borderline affectionate as the tabby you used to feed back in your human days. It warmed your heart, and your cheeks, to feel his eyes on your figure. It made you feel unsteady on your feet. It made you question who was the ruler of the other, who held the power over the other; the power imbalance slowly became a balance - your energy dimmed by the way he could play you like a puppet.

All these feelings weaved together and knotted around your heart, snaring you in a complex web too tight to escape, exposing your throat to him like a delicacy to be gorged upon.

Only if you let him know, that is.

You somehow felt that a man like him wouldn’t settle, and more importantly, he was a man; just another one of the hordes who wanted a demure consort, you could bet. You were not a dainty flower he likely sought; you were a weed - growing strong despite the harshest of conditions, clawing out a place for your existence where there had been none before. The Curse of Curses.

So you buried those feelings like a female buried herself under layers of junihitoe - though you refused to wear that monstrosity despite the latest fashion in Japan, as all the fabric was too heavy for comfort. You made do with the yukata you stole from Sukuna’s wardrobe. It was definitely not because it smelled like him. 

You kept away from the humans and the ruling in his Shrine, spending time with Uraume, him, or alone in the gardens - until you could not. He’d left you in charge of his Kingdom when he had business to do. 

Human men were deplorable, thinking you were just a weak curse to be manipulated and slandered. You didn’t raise your voice at all, yet it shut everyone up in the hall - save for one local lord thinking himself too mighty to listen. No amount of flattery would have kept him alive after that. A wave of your hand made vines grow out of his guts - burrowing through his flesh as easily as tearing paper apart; sweet-smelling white flowers bloomed from the mess of red-coated plant matter in the middle of the chamber. 

You sat in Sukuna’s throne of bones, regal and untouchable.

That was how he found you - presiding over his subjects like the Goddess you were, and bloody Spring sprouted in front of him, rubies glinting upon the stone floors like a grotesque decoration. 

At first, he had wanted to study you - the Queen of Curses, the Supreme Sovereign, older than him, wiser, more powerful. Forgotten, yet not forgotten enough for him not to find any sources mentioning your title. He had been curious about you, and then he became curious about the feelings you evoked in him. Your presence in his home converted from an adornment into an emollient to him, smoothing the rough edges and softening the spikes of his defenses against you, yet you remained the centerpiece of his attention, even when you weren’t in his presence. He found himself thinking about you in all his waking moments.

“Everyone, out.”

He could not hide his devotion to you if he tried now - it had grown roots in his soul and fed off of his life-force, yet strengthened it twice as much. His heart was set ablaze every time he laid eyes upon your form, the blood in his veins searing hot, branding him from the inside - a slave to you forevermore.

And so he knelt at your feet, the bottom two of his arms supporting him as he leaned forward, his top pair carefully reaching for your foot and raising it to his face.

The King of Curses kissed your ankle, closing his eyes in silent worship to his Goddess, his World. 

“Your Majesty,” he greeted you in a whisper, his lips caressing your skin.

Your eyes grew soft as you studied him, your posture proud but your expression fond. “Sukuna.”

Wet, hot tongue darted out to taste your skin, making you jolt and tear your leg from his grasp with pursed lips. The tabby was particularly impertinent today.

“You have no respect for your Queen, do you?” 

“On the contrary, I hold all the respect for you.” His smirk was mischievous, he knew as well as you did neither of you were serious about this. Just a harmless teasing, if a bit skewed. 

You used your foot to lightly push against his chest to tip him over onto his back - which he let you do, for he could have as easily resisted. Even falling down, he looked graceful. It made you feel warm inside your ribcage as you pushed a joyous smile down.

Sukuna turned the fall into a backwards roll, ending up on his knees again.

“At least you know your place - on your knees before me…”

“I-” he licked his lips, “I would gladly be on my knees for you all day, Your Majesty.”

Oh? It was your turn to give him a smile full of mischief as he slowly moved back to you. You remained silent.

“Has a cat got your tongue?” 

Sukuna shuffled forward on his knees, his top pair of arms resting on the bones of his throne as he came even closer. Palms trailing to your thighs and covering them with his hands - an easy feat with his size. 

You could do naught but marvel at the contrast of your limbs and his - each powerful and deadly in their own right, each in a different way. There was no tremor of fear in your muscles, only anticipation, even while he lightly spread your legs to fit his torso between them as you lounged on his throne.

“Let me feast on your nectar.” His voice, smooth like silk, a plea rather than an order, the nuance of his tone telling all you needed to know. He appeared unreadable to others, but he was as exposed and vulnerable as a newborn babe to you at this moment.

Even so, your lips parted in surprise at his request for you didn’t expect him to say it out loud at last. “Forward, aren’t you?”

His carmine eyes - all four of them - focused on yours with an intensity you were only just getting used to with him. Sukuna said nothing as he waited for your response.

The devil didn’t bargain, after all.

“Very well… Show me how you would worship your Queen, my King.”

dividers by the divine @benkeibear

network: @enchantedforest-network

[call-me-strega]

Dc x Dp Prompt #6: A Mother’s Love

Gotham still remembers when she was just a young Neverborn. When her bay was first discovered and settlements were newly established. Her consciousness like the budding town was growing slowly but surely. By the 1800s she was almost fully grown and by the 1900s she knew her name. She knew who she was.

She was Lady Gotham: Queen of the City of Corruption, Mistress of the Den of Madness, Ruler of No Man's Land, Mother of Poor Souls.

She was a Neverborn Spirit of the Infinite Realms who was well acquainted with disaster and misery. She was the sovereign of her own haunt and territory, and vassal under the king. (A king to whom she swore no loyalty)

She knew her flaws and she knew the flaws of those who were Hers but she loved them nonetheless. When she was still young she spent her energy trying to nourish her people, unfortunately, she was but a reflection of her mortal haunt. There was little she could do aside from slightly bending the rules to exert control over the physical aspects of her haunt or to extend her power to those who would need it most. As she grew older she also had to divide her care among the ghosts in her spectral haunt, for they were Hers too, now within her grasp.

She remembers when the Clown first arrived. He was horrible, an outsider, an interloper, and a scourge to her haunt. He was not Hers and she refused to claim him despite his fancy to call himself the Clown Prince of Gotham. No, he was more a Fool than anything else. She made it known within the realms to all those living in her spectral haunt that should the Fool ever make it to the realms than his fate would be up to her (Perhaps her former paramour would grant her a boon and keep him trapped in an eternal nightmare).

She remembers when her Dark Knight first arrived in her defense. She was struck to see him, for he had been one of Hers. He had been gone for many years but returned to her and he wished to help her, to protect her. She accepted him as her Knight, extending her power on occasion to cloak him in shadows and fear. Though she cherished her Knight she wished he was capable of more. (She wished he would cross lines she could not, but she knew he wouldn't because he could not either).

She remembers the first little Squire her Knight took in. He was not of her but she would claim him as Hers too. He was eager to help her and those who were Hers. He was the first bit of Wonder she and Hers had had in a long time. He cared for her too but eventually, he would grow to be more than a Squire and would leave her too. Though he was gone, he still had a place in the city as one of her Knights.

She remembers the second little Squire. Her very own homegrown Hope. Sure he was a bit more rough and decisive but he cared. He was so deeply and truly Hers. He grew up in her streets and he understood her and Hers better than any of her knights so far. He was young, full of life and a desire to help, and he believed he could be magic. She was devastated when he left, lured away by the promise of a mother, then tricked and fallen into the hands of the Fool. She was devastated when he returned to her broken and mangled.

In her distress she remembered that the Tyrant had been overthrown recently. There was a new king, one who had not even reached his majority yet. The Boy King, The Benevolent King, The Protector, The Peace Maker, The One with the Cloak of Stars and the Crown of Frozen Light, The Perfect Balance.

He had not yet risen to full power but he had united the Counsel of Ancients. She could appeal to them and to him. She could swear her loyalty in exchange for borrowed power. Even if he refused, it would not stop her. His help would prevent her from growing too weak but his refusal would mean nothing to her.

True to his title, the Benevolent King granted her a boon, her loyalty and support for a temporary amplification of her own power and permission to cross over. She thanked the Boy King for his Kindness and fled back to her haunt, ready to manifest onto the mortal plane for the first time in centuries.

When she found him she was overwhelmed with grief. Her voice echoed like sirens in the wind. Her fingernails elongated as she reached out. Her appearance grew more haggard as spectral winds swirled around her. She cried black tears over his grave summoning her power to channel his soul.

If the boy wanted to help he could help those in her spectral haunt.

If the boy wanted to make a difference, he could help her exert her power over her mortal haunt.

If the boy wanted a family, then she would be his Mother.

If the boy wanted to live, he could live in the Realms with Her.

Her form flickered vanishing from the mortal plane. Back in her spectral haunt, she held a young figure in her arms. She overflowed with gratefulness promising herself she would introduce the young boy to the King when she got the chance. He deserved to see how much he'd done for her. She gathered up her presence and made a declaration to the realm:

Here was the heir to her power

Here was the being that was most truly Hers

Here was the true Son

Her very own Little Prince of Gotham.

~~~

Okay a couple of things:

Did I imply the Joker is not a Gotham Native? Yes, I did. I also implied that if he ever became a ghost it would be on sight for him by Lady Gotham.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham has two haunts? Yes, I did. She has actual Gotham and then the ghost version in the Infinite Realms where a lot of the ghosts of people who died in Gotham live.

Did I imply that Lady Gotham and Fright Knight were romantically involved at one point? Yes, I did.

The goal of this was to literally make Jason the "Son of Gotham", a term I've seen thrown around before. I feel like Lady Gotham would love to be a mom and finally give Jason a decent parent, albeit one that treads the line between creepy and Eldritch Horror.

I included Danny as the new Ghost King even though he's not technically ruling yet. He has the Council of Ancients running things and he has a regent but idk who yet. He's still involved in the decision-making process bc a.) He's super powerful, b.) he's still technically ruler, and c.) it's a good way for him to learn about ruling which he will have to do eventually.

Yes, it is my intention to have Jason and Danny meet in the Ghost Zone later. Give some good bonding and friendship (eventually crushes on each other).

I have a couple ideas for things that may happen in this au but if anyone gets their own ideas or wants to write this then feel free to share or ask about it.

[sayruq]

The US House of Representatives passed a series of pivotal policy bills on Saturday that would see $95 billion in foreign war and military funds, a potential ban on TikTok in the country, the seizure of frozen Russian sovereign assets, and new sanctions on Iran. The Israel Security Supplemental was approved with an overwhelming vote of 366-58. This bill includes a prohibition on sending funds to the United Nations Relief and Works Agency UNRWA as the genocide in Gaza nears its 7-month mark. The funding package allocates $26.4 billion in aid to the occupation entity, $4 billion for the Iron Dome and David's Sling missile defense systems, and $1.2 billion for the Iron Beam defense system. Additionally, $4.4 billion is allocated to replenish military items and services provided to "Israel," while $3.5 billion is earmarked for the procurement of advanced weapons systems and other items through the Foreign Military Financing Program. Furthermore, it includes $9.2 billion in public assistance, including emergency food, shelter, and basic services, to populations experiencing crises. It also provides additional flexibility for transfers of military hardware to "Israel" from US stockpiles held in other countries.

[everparanoid]

Comforting you after a nightmare w/ Genshin men

various genshin men x gn! reader

cw: fluff, slight angst if you squint--like really squint.

Characters: Wriothesley, Ayato, Neuvillette, Alhaitham, Diluc, Itto

Wriothesley

Wriothesley often finds himself retiring to bed quite late, though not as frequently as one might assume. After a long night immersed in Meropide’s paperwork, he falls asleep almost instantly, maintaining a slight distance so as not to disturb your slumber this late into the night. When a nightmare stirs you awake, leaving you sitting up and staring into the darkness, unable to return to sleep, Wriothesley, who is no stranger to the torment of nightmares, opens his eyes and assures you that everything is okay. Without needing any explanation, he sits up, ready to keep you company, so you’re not left alone with your racing thoughts and the enveloping darkness. He understands the loneliness that comes with being alone with your thoughts in the dark, and he doesn’t wish that for you. If you feel the need to talk about it, Wriothesley is all ears. A good listener, he won’t pressure you into saying anything, but if you wish to share, he’s there to listen. He won’t attempt to interpret your nightmare or dismiss your feelings as irrational, he’ll simply listen. If you seek comfort, he’ll hold you in his arms until your breathing steadies and you drift back into a peaceful sleep. Don’t worry he’ll join you soon after.

“Huh? Oh, so you had a bad dream? It’s okay. I’ve got you. Do you want to talk about it?… No? That’s fine. We can just stay here till it goes away.”

Ayato

Ayato, much like Wriothesley, often arrives late to bed. However, when a nightmare stirs you awake, he springs into action, ready to shield you from any physical threat that might have breached the estate’s defenses. Ayato is a light sleeper, a habit formed after numerous assassination attempts following his parents’ demise. The rare instances of peaceful sleep he can recall are all linked to the times you shared his bed. Once he has ensured the room is safe and there are no threats, he sheathes his blade and returns to bed, seeking to understand your distress. Unlike Wriothesley, Ayato attempts to rationalize your nightmare, aiming to soothe your rapid breathing and fearful gaze. If you seek comfort, he will draw you into his embrace, sharing tales of his suspicious meals and the interesting dishes he has persuaded Thoma to consume, until your nightmare recedes and your smile, the one he cherishes, returns.

A sudden voice outside the door might startle you, but Ayato will reassure you, explaining it’s merely Thoma with tea. Having heard the commotion, Thoma decided to bring tea to calm your nerves, a practice he often employs for the Kamisato siblings when nightmares disrupt their sleep. The warmth of the tea in your belly, coupled with Ayato’s soothing whispers and gentle laughter, lulls you back to sleep in his arms. Although sleep may elude him, seeing you at peace is all that truly matters to him.

“It was just a nightmare. It can’t hurt you, not when I’m around.”

Neuvillette

Neuvillette is likely to be burdened with other people’s haunting memories, a consequence of his bond with the element of water as the Hydro Dragon Sovereign. This means that when nightmares stir you to tears and if the water graces his skin, he too experiences your nightmare. Without opening his eyes, he draws you closer, gently wiping away your tears. To him, emotions experienced in nightmares are as real and valid as those felt in waking life. His proximity to you softens the harsh edges of your dreams, unknowingly easing you into a more peaceful state. Gradually, you find calm and drift back into sleep, your dreams now filled with tranquil waters.

Alhaitham

Alhaitham, much like Ayato, will seek to make sense of your nightmare upon your awakening. Your sudden movement disrupts his slumber, initially causing a flicker of annoyance. However, recognizing it’s you, he endeavours to comfort you in the only way he knows - through reason. With his eyes still firmly shut, clinging to the fading warmth of sleep, he begins to whisper words of reassurance. Over time, he learns that tender words have a greater soothing effect than cold, hard logic. Once the sound of your rapid breathing subsides, and if you express the desire, he casually lifts an arm, inviting you to snuggle into him until sleep claims you both once more. Though he may appear to drift off before you, his steady breathing and closed eyes are a facade. In reality, he remains in a state of semi-consciousness, patiently waiting for you to succumb to sleep before he allows himself to return to the realm of dreams.

“Calm down. What you are experiencing, though it may feel real, is not. You are fine.”

Diluc

Diluc too is haunted by nightmares. His dreams, much like Wriothesley’s, are vivid and painfully real, replaying the chapters of his past he yearns to forget, yet is bound by their torment. This is why sleep eludes him. As dusk falls, he embraces his role as Mondstadt’s protector, a duty that provides a refuge from the inevitable torment that sleep brings. When he met you, the intensity of these nightmares ebbed slightly. Although sleep remains a distant acquaintance, he finds solace in returning to the Dawn Winery just before dawn. There, he lays beside you, silently observing as the night bids farewell to the day. Should a nightmare disturb your peace, he is already awake, prepared to offer comfort. He understands all too well the pain of reliving time-warped memories. Regardless of your preference for physical contact, Diluc remains by your side, a steadfast presence as you both welcome the sunrise, allowing the dawn’s gentle light to cleanse away the night’s demons.

“Don’t worry, it’s dawn,”

Itto

Itto, even with his jovial nature, is no stranger to the occasional nightmare. Though his tend to revolve more around beans than most. When a nightmare jolts you awake, Itto doesn’t stir until he hears you call his name. He opens his eyes, still heavy with sleep, and upon seeing the distress in your eyes, moves to comfort you. His voice is softer and more gruff than its usual boisterous tone. He beckons you closer, and once you’re nestled in his arms—your limbs entangled with his like a weighted blanket smothering your senses— he begins to trace small circles on your back. If words of comfort fail to soothe you, he’ll sing a little impromptu song about him, your oni, scaring away the nightmares. It is a tune that brings a smile to your face. You may not find sleep again, even after Itto drifts off mid-song; but knowing he’s there beside you, offering his unwavering support, is all that truly matters.

“Hey hey hey, shush, calm down. It’s alright, no nightmare can get you when the Arataki Itto, the one and oni, has got you. What? Don’t think you can sleep again? That’s alright. Hey, how about I sing a little song I made up just now for you? That will surely get rid of all those pesky nightmares.”

masterlist

I hope you all sleep better than me.

Reblogs w/ tags and comments are very much appreciated! If you enjoyed this, feel free to consider dropping a follow as well! <3

If you like my writing and wish to support me, please consider buying me a coffee via Ko-fi!

[zvaigzdelasas]

A painful reality check shows the 600-mile-long Ukrainian-Russian front in a figurative and literal freeze, draining Ukrainian resources and lives without much prospect for change in the foreseeable future. The much-anticipated Ukrainian counteroffensive of the past six months exacted a huge cost in casualties and matériel, but barely nudged the front lines. Ukraine’s top military commander has said the fight is at a “stalemate” — a notion deemed taboo not long ago — and only an unlikely technological breakthrough by one side or the other could break it. [...]

The way things are going, “Ukraine will for the foreseeable future harbor Europe’s most dangerous geopolitical fault line,” [...] an endless conflict that deepens Russia’s alienation from the West, enshrines Putinism and delays Ukraine’s integration into Europe. That, at least, is the bleak prognosis if victory in the war continues to be defined in territorial terms, specifically the goal of driving Russia out of all the Ukrainian lands it occupied in 2014 and over the past 22 months, including Crimea and a thick wedge of southeastern Ukraine, altogether about a fifth of Ukraine’s sovereign territory. But regaining territory is the wrong way to imagine the best outcome. True victory for Ukraine is to rise from the hell of the war as a strong, independent, prosperous and secure state, firmly planted in the West.[...]

the only way to find out if Mr. Putin is serious about a cease-fire, and whether one can be worked out, is to give it a try. Halting Russia well short of its goals and turning to the reconstruction and modernization of Ukraine would be lasting tributes to the Ukrainians who have made the ultimate sacrifice to preserve the existence of their nation. And no temporary armistice would forever preclude Ukraine from recovering all of its land.

With U.S. and European aid to Ukraine now in serious jeopardy, the Biden administration and European officials are quietly shifting their focus from supporting Ukraine’s goal of total victory over Russia to improving its position in an eventual negotiation to end the war, according to a Biden administration official and a European diplomat based in Washington. Such a negotiation would likely mean giving up parts of Ukraine to Russia. The White House and Pentagon publicly insist there is no official change in administration policy — that they still support Ukraine’s aim of forcing Russia’s military completely out of the country. [...]

The administration official told POLITICO Magazine this week that much of this strategic shift to defense is aimed at shoring up Ukraine’s position in any future negotiation. “That’s been our theory of the case throughout — the only way this war ends ultimately is through negotiation,” said the official, a White House spokesperson who was given anonymity because they are not authorized to speak on the record.[...]

“Those discussions [about peace talks] are starting, but [the administration] can’t back down publicly because of the political risk” to Biden, said a congressional official who is familiar with the administration’s thinking and who was granted anonymity to speak freely.[...]

The European diplomat based in Washington said that the European Union is also raising the threat of expediting Ukraine’s membership in NATO to “put the Ukrainians in the best situation possible to negotiate” with Moscow. That is a flashpoint for Putin, who is believed to be mainly interested in a strategic deal with Washington under which Ukraine will not enter NATO. [...]

For most of the conflict GOP critics have accused Biden of moving too slowly to arm the Ukrainians with the most sophisticated weaponry, such as M1A1 Abrams battle tanks, long-range precision artillery and F-16 fighter jets. In an interview in July Zelenskyy himself said the delays “provided Russia with time to mine all our lands and build several lines of defense.” [...]

The Ukrainians themselves are engaged in what is becoming a very public debate about how long they can hold out against Putin. With Ukraine running low on troops as well as weapons, Zelenskyy’s refusal to consider any fresh negotiations with Moscow is looking more and more politically untenable at home. The Ukrainian president, seeking to draft another half million troops, is facing rising domestic opposition from his military commander in chief, Gen. Valeriy Zaluzhnyi, and the mayor of Kyiv, Vitali Klitschko.

So what was all that for then [27 Dec 23]

[jadeschambers]

CHAPTER 1: Trueform!Sukuna x Isekai!gn!reader

(reader has no gender but has f genitals.)

Parings: Ryomen Sukuna

Tags: Slow burn, eventual Smut, god/godess demigod reader, sukuna needs his own warnings, huge!size kink (that man is like 8 ft tall), mentioned cannibalism, noncon? (just beware, reader ❤️ him/ don’t read if it makes u uncomfy), cunnilingus, breast play. Some cursing n crack. original idea to this series on my page.

intro, II

In Teyvat, an old friend would persist that gods cannot be trusted. Is Sukuna the god that calls your knees to the floor and pulls the praise from your throat? Or is he a temptation of desires from a life you never knew you could have.

given by your enemies; wounds and gashes heavily mar your body. recent battles have not been kind, and sometimes you wonder if victory is worth winning. Sukunas estate was shrouded by an eery silence as the sun settled, and it was almost like it was only just you in the world. “Uraume. Give them a bath and bring them to me after.” Sukuna’s broad back met your gaze as he strode away, his white haired subordinate obeying with no hesitation. “thank you…”

the curse turned, an arrogant smile plastered on his face. “Sukuna, thats Lord Sukuna for you little dove.” it was almost like his arrogance transformed him.

the halls to the bathing chamber looked like it was intricately carved by the hands of a dragon sovereign, and it was admirably distracting. standing by your side as you entered the bathing chamber, uraume held out their hands. they wanted you to strip

“oh uhm— i can bathe myself-“ before you could even finish the robes on your tarnished body slipped off, and lukewarm water stung in the deep gashes decorating your body. “to keep lord Sukuna waiting will not suffice.” they grumbled, trying to scrub you as gently as possible. “h-hey! that hurts!” uraumes hands were not very gentle, but seeing as the dirt floated into the water their roughness was proven to benefit.

warm water was a luxury to commoners back in Teyvat, boiling water naturally was a pain in your ass. but as a well respected demigod, it was something you wouldn’t really have to usually worry about. soft towels were used to dry off your skin, and you were handed a beautiful silk robe.

it looked and felt heavy, and would most likely be hard to fight in, but if you weren’t to except the gifted robe would they see you as ungrateful. “oh.. this is very beautiful; but what if it gets ruined…?” the silk felt so soft rubbing against your hands.

“either way lord sukuna will end up ruining it. except the gift, he is not always this generous.” uraume replied, insisting to help you put it on. their words widened your eyes. what in the celestia were they babbling about? “took ya long enough.” sukunas voice was deep and sensual.

he carried an aura that was definitely unmatched to what i have seen. “thank you for the robe sukuna.. and thank you for letting me stay here.” you whispered, giving him your gratitude. “pull out your weapon.”his chin lifted slightly, and by god did he really look intimidating.

stepping back in hesitation, you began to double think. were you lured into a trap? “w-why? you aren’t going to fight me are you?” your body most definitely could not handle another fight right now, and it honestly felt like you were going to collapse. sukuna looked like a demon, and charging into a fight without knowing your enemies strength is a death wish.

suddenly you found yourself right in front of him, his huge frame towering over you. “w-wait! if we’re going to fight at least let me change robes!” you placed your hands on his chest in defense, and without realizing, Sukuna was sent flying backwards. Uraume stood with their eyes open wide before crouching by their master. it took a few moments to realize what you had done. “oh my archons! im so sorry!” you gasped, immediately running to his side.

Sukuna chuckled as he sat up, his large hands grasping yours. “a strong opponent, how interesting.” he suddenly pinned you beneath him— despite the huge hole in the wall from his body he seemed utterly fine. “just what are you exactly..?” sukuna tilted his head, absolutely infatuated with that innocent look in your eyes.

looking into his eyes felt like he was hypnotizing you, in defense you managed to wiggle out from his grasp. “im really sorry sukuna… you aren’t hurt are you..?” your eyes widened as you noticed the inky black tattoos stretching across his biceps. “non sense.” he shook his head, helping you up before leading you out into the hall. “you must be fatigued, little one.” sukuna smirk faltered as he turned. just what were you? no modern sorcerer in his time could even lay a finger on him, even those who lie in the Gojo and Zenin clan.

before you now were large dark oak double doors, and as sukuna pushed them open he lead you into the room. “rest here, let us resume in the morning.” he sat you down onto the plush bed. “thank you, i really didn’t-“ sukuna placed a hand on your head, preventing you from finishing. “it is nothing on your part. now sleep.”

“We shall turn to Oratrice Mecanique d’Analyse Cardinale to render the final verdict on the charges.” Neuvilettes voice reverberated off the opera houses walls, the audience below held in silence by the anticipation. “hm? this cannot be right..” the dragon muttered under his breathe. noticing the look on Monsieur Neuvilettes face, your mind pondered on what was about to happen. “The hydro archon, guilty.” the Chief of Justice paused, holding his breath. “To be punished via…the death sentence.”

with his words a wave of gasps erupt from the crowd below, and Navia stumbles beside you. “T-This cant be right!” someone shouts below. Furina sat in the opposite gallery, tears streaming down her cheeks. “The death sentence? Thats way too far!” they retort, many beginning to question the laws of justice.

A powerful earthquake suddenly struck the opera house, sending the audience to flee for the exits. “The waters are rising!” they screamed in horror, the stampede panicking for safety, praying to their archon for strength. Suddenly a gaping hole ripped through space in the middle of the opera house, and from the darkness a gargantuan whale leapt forward, weeping.

—

“So we’ve finally met it at last… I understand very well why it has chosen to make an appearance here.” The hole in space began to close as Neuvilette explained his plan. “thanks to childe none of you were eaten?” you asked, tilting your head in worry. “Indeed, but it still traverses in the Primordial Sea, it is not from here.”

Neuvilette placed a hand on your shoulder, a foreign glint in his eyes. “I am not a fully fledged dragon, which means i need your help defeating it.” now standing in front of you both of his hands gripped your shoulders. “b-but what about the oratrice..?! and Lady Furina?” you stuttered, eyes frantically searching the room. “We will worry about the trivial matters once we return.” Neuvilette assured, yet something felt off.

As you battled, many gashes were torn in your skin, making you wince. “Are you alright?!” Neuvilette yelled through the loud crashing waves, trying to reach you, only for the unknown entity to crash into the waters, its mouth wide open.

it was going to swallow you, and it was already too late. snapping its jaws shut, the sickening clench of the whales bones grinding together. the very last thing you saw before your vision turned black was the dragon sovereign running towards your limp body.

tumblr deleted the draft to this two fuckifn times but i honestly like mashing up different worlds like this c:

tags : @maskedpacific @kbirdieee2540

art credit to nachikusan, decay_int, woshihedawei all on X

[ninibeingdelulu]

His biggest fan ✧

Plot: You’re Michael’s girlfriend, cheering him at one of his games.

A/N: It’s so bad I hate it😓

The roar of thunderous cheers flooded the stadium as Michael unleashed another stupefying display of lethal precision and brute physicality that defied mortal comprehension.

You watched with breathless awe seated front row as that signature blue mohawk wove a hypnotic cyclone of calculated ferocity carving apart the helpless defense trailing hopelessly in his wake.

Each savage yet eerily choreographed burst from Michael's heavyweight strides reverberated across the pitch warping the boundaries of space and time itself directly proportional to his gravitational soccer supremacy.

Until the entire cosmos distilled into that infinite singularity split-second with just your striker boyfriend, the ball and the yawning maw of the goal awaiting its inevitable oblation.

You bit down hard stifling the visceral shudder trying to escape as Michael's rocket-powered thunderbolt smashed past the defenseless keeper and ignited the back of the net in a blaze of cosmic glory.

Celebrating with that bone-chilling sovereign roar staking his unchallengeable dominion once more before this mortal realm of sporting conquest still so far beneath his transcendent plane of greatness.

Even after the final whistle sounded you remained spellbound observing Michael bask in those rapturous post-coital moments savoring his ineffable feat.

Utterly transfixed upon the hyper-masculine sculpture of your man still slicked with the spoils of carnal supremacy while casting that chiseled nordic profile against the floodlit heavens he reigned sovereign over.

Until his peripheral laser focus abruptly snapped in your direction lancing directly through your aura with a telepathic tractor beam manifesting into actual physics-warping forces.

Almost like each molecule surrounding Michael compressed and bent inward before being shunted aside clearing his path towards you with terrifying inevitability.

You barely had a chance to brace yourself as the unstoppable tsunami slammed into your front row section without mercy or resistance.

The concussive shockwave blasting through your senses while those titanium bulwarks materialized around you scooping your diminutive frame against Michael's furnace-stoked musculature with crushing intensity.

"My sweet empress…I could only hear your voice back there. It motivated me, thank you.”

His rough-hewn bassline resonated against every nerve ending vibrating at some untapped primordial stratum while you strained to surface through the endless whitenoise overloading your synapses.

Only Michael's low gravitic pulses penetrating the oblivion flooding your faculties from that unholy cosmic union now peeling away every layer keeping you distinct individualities during submersion into this event horizon state of indistinguishable polarities collapsed together.

Until finally resurfacing from that singularity after an eternity compressed into nanoseconds - though still deliriously consumed by the aftershocks rippling across your intertwined vessels smoldering in the embers of rapturous conflagration yet still ravenous for more extreme escalations eternally rebirthing from the expended remains!

Only the roaring crescendos from those frenzied supporters still filling the stadium slowly penetrated the vacuous void reverberating between you both savoring that suspended infinitesimal post-orgasmic bliss together.

You felt Michael's stern facade gradually reassemble while withdrawing from your interiors just fractionally enough to restore individuation-yet sense his alpha dominion expanding throughout your reconstituted synaptic matrices cementing his reign over your fused polarities once more.

Then with a subtle shift his smokey granite stare cleaved directly through the veil drawing your reawakened senses under that spellbinding trance spellbinding instantly.

A hushed imperious rasp now caressing your essence from that primal domain where all worldly laws bent to his sovereign decrees:

"Why don’t I reward you tonight, huh, meine liebe ?”

Just experiencing the infinitesimal microcosm of his supreme essence bleeding into your rematerialized corporeal vessel already whiplashed your senses through multiple clinical deaths and resurrections beyond this plane's dimensional limits.

His seismic vibrational frequencies triggered endorphin avalanches detonating every neurotransmitter into frenzied paroxysms anticipating the ineffable escalations still awaiting together...

[probablyasocialecologist]

The real issue is that Israel has no right to self-defense against the territory and the people that it occupies. According to the Fourth Geneva Convention, it has a duty and a responsibility to protect those people until the reversion to a status quo ante that preceded hostilities, meaning until sovereignty is returned to the Palestinians. Of course, Israel denies that this is applicable, because it denies that Palestinians are a people, and so they say there is no sovereign to whom to revert. Israel also claims that this territory belongs to them. They claim that they had the right to acquire it by force, which proceeds from their claim that the 1967 War was a war of self defense. Neither of those claims are true. Israel insists that the attack that launched the 1967 War—in which it destroyed Egypt’s entire air fleet while it was still on the ground—was a preemptive strike against an inevitable attack by Egypt. In reality, Egypt was cooperating with the United States as it worked toward a mediated agreement. This was not a defensive war—but even if it was, since the adoption of the UN Charter in 1945, there has been no principle in international law that permits the acquisition of territory under any circumstances. Israel has created and perpetuated legal fictions to deny the applicability of international law. For one, Israel says there is no occupation. It says the territory is “disputed” and applies occupation law on a de facto basis, which allows it to cherry-pick the provisions with which it complies. It has created a sui generis regime that has no analogy or precedent, and thus it neither recognizes Palestinians as part of its domestic order—which would characterize its confrontation with Palestinians as a civil war—nor acknowledges the existence of a regular war against a nascent sovereign fighting for national liberation. Instead, Israel has been creating new law to cover what it calls “armed conflict short of war.” This enables Israel to usurp Palestinians’ sovereignty, and associated policing power, while also using military force against them.

[qqueenofhades]

Hwy dod we even need to send more money to Ukraine tho like we’ve already supported them plenty! But let Europe pull their weight and we can go back to spending that money on American policies

Do you read like, any news outside Tumblr, any Ukrainian perspectives, any basic analyses of the conflict, any rationale from Democrats or Congress, or anything? Because, in brief:

Ukrainians are currently facing a full-scale genocide. It has been going on for over a year and Russian military leadership has every plan to continue until fruition. If they stop resisting, there will be no more Ukraine or Ukrainians. So all the "appeasers" or "realists" insisting that Ukraine should "give up land for peace" (which notably worked so well with Czechoslovakia and Hitler in 1938) are basically deciding that it's fine to let the genocide be carried out, if it's even minorly inconvenient for us. Putin and cronies have repeatedly stated that if they are successful in taking Ukraine, they will go further. This is the exact scenario that leads to the "escalation" and/or WWIII that various people keep wringing their hands over. It is far more just and safe for Ukraine to be supported now and to stop that before it gets even worse.

America is not actually giving over buckets of black cash, regardless of what various bad-faith takes claim. They are handing over weapons valued at various amounts of money, along with some financial and budgetary aid. A lot of these weapons are older and would cost more to decommission than they cost to give to a sovereign democracy fighting for its life against an imperialist autocratic neighbor. This is some tiny amount like 5% (if that) of America's bloated military budget. And again: it's actual weapons valued at a certain dollar amount. These cannot be spent on American domestic policies.

The idea that helping Ukraine is directly coming out of our own pockets or preventing us from spending as needed on our own needs is propaganda. It is not good to repeat it.

I wrote this post the other day about why Putin is trying so hard to break American/Western support for Ukraine, and why the hard-right MAGA has enabled him in it. Putin's Russia is the motivating nexus, coordination, and funding center for Russian/European/American far-right theocratic fascism. This whole "America Only" is the exact rationale that appeals to said far-right domestic fascists and gives Putin and other imperial expansionist kleptocrats the justification to just throw away post-WWII international order and declare that any larger and more powerful state can systematically eradicate any neighboring country, claim its territory, destroy its government, kill its people, and get away with it. Because why would they stop, if there aren't any consequences and they are rewarded for it?

Putin has repeatedly interfered in American elections to help Trump and the Republicans. That should tell you something about who he sees as most favorable to his interests and what he would do again if allowed to emerge victorious.

Europe IS actually pulling its weight! They just brought all 27 defense ministers to Kyiv, they have been working on Ukraine's accession talks, they have committed all types of weapons (including the long-range missiles that the US still won't clearly authorize), they've committed a new tranche of 5 billion euros in long-term assistance, etc. But the whole "we should pull out of NATO and leave Europe to fend for itself" was a key isolationist and xenophobic Trump idea. We can see what that led to.

American aid is vital to Ukraine's continued existence as a sovereign country, period, and it is in American interests to continue to provide it as agreed upon. Not least because such an egregious betrayal of a democratic ally would empower the fascists of the world, both Russian and American, and because as noted, if this conflict was not stopped and got bigger, it would then involve American troops. It is a moral, democratic, political, and ethical imperative. This is not a difficult call or a complicated situation, regardless of what the Online Leftist tankies and the MAGA-world nutcases (because horseshoe theory) want you to think.

Слава Україні.

The end.

[elysiumania]

title: carve it to the end pairing(s): blade, reader characters: blade, reader, kafka, silver wolf word count: 9.8k+ synopsis: blade is familiar with the profound sin that encompasses his entire existence, yet he never anticipated that a whirlwind of emotions for you would also ensnare him.

In the midst of your daring mission, you and Blade find yourselves separated from Kafka and Silver Wolf, who have been entrusted with the crucial task of retrieving the coveted stellaron from the clutches of the world's sovereign. This scenario is all too familiar, as Elio, your mysterious leader, often assigns you such missions to procure the stellaron from different worlds.

The urgency of the situation is palpable, as Elio's command weighs heavily on your shoulders. Time is of the essence, and the success of your mission depends on each member's unwavering focus and commitment. 

The world you find yourselves entrenched in is a labyrinth of mysteries and dangers. Its atmosphere crackles with an otherworldly energy, its landscapes a juxtaposition of ethereal beauty and imminent peril. Shadows dance along the twisted paths, hinting at lurking threats that could emerge at any moment.

In the heart of the battlefield, you and Blade move with an elegant synchrony, your every action an evidence to the rigorous training and discipline that you both possess. Your movements are precise, your coordination seamless, as if you were two halves of a single entity, united by a common purpose.

Every movement is deliberate, calculated, as you swiftly evade the oncoming strikes and launch devastating counterattacks. The air is charged with a palpable tension, your senses heightened to their fullest extent.

Time seems to slow down. Your world narrows to the immediate threat before you, the rest of the battlefield fading into the periphery. The only sound you hear is the clash of steel, the rhythmic pounding of your heart, and the rhythmic breaths you take in tandem with each movement. There is a singular purpose that drives you forward – the complete annihilation of your enemies.

In a swift turn of your body, you witness Blade parry the bullets fired to him.

Blade's presence on the battlefield is truly formidable, exuding an aura of power and confidence that commands respect. Every swing of his blade is executed with calculated precision, a dance of lethal elegance. His movements are fluid and swift, as if he were an extension of his weapon, effortlessly cutting through adversaries with a deadly efficiency.

There is a raw intensity to his fighting style, a controlled ferocity that sends shivers down your spine. He is like a force of nature, untamed and relentless, his strikes landing with devastating impact. It is a sight to behold, the embodiment of a warrior at the peak of his skill and strength.

However, amidst the chaos and violence, you can discern a meticulousness in Blade's approach. His attacks are not haphazard or reckless, but rather purposeful and strategic. He anticipates his opponents' moves, parrying and countering with calculated precision. His reflexes are honed to a razor's edge, allowing him to seamlessly transition from defense to offense, leaving little room for his enemies to counterattack.

You, too, are a force to be reckoned with. Your reflexes are honed to perfection, your aim unerring as you unleash a hail of bullets, each shot finding its mark with lethal precision. Your training and experience have molded you into a formidable combatant, a force that strikes fear into the hearts of your enemies. Your focus is steady, your concentration laser-sharp as you analyze every opponent, calculating their weaknesses and exploiting them with ruthless efficiency.

As the battle wears on, a sense of fatigue begins to creep into your limbs. The adrenaline that fueled your movements earlier starts to wane, and you feel the weight of exhaustion settle upon you. Your breath becomes labored, each inhale a struggle as you try to replenish the oxygen needed to sustain your efforts.

The once effortless movements now require a conscious effort, each swing of your weapon feeling heavier than before. Your muscles ache, protesting the relentless strain placed upon them. But you push through the discomfort, your determination overriding the physical toll on your body.

With every passing moment, your stamina diminishes further. The pace of your strikes and evasions slows, each action requiring a greater expenditure of energy. Your once precise and fluid movements become more sluggish, the gaps in your defenses more apparent. But you refuse to yield, knowing that the moment you falter could spell disaster.

Your breaths become audible, each exhalation a visible cloud in the cold air. Beads of sweat drip down your brow, stinging your eyes as you struggle to maintain focus. The weight of exhaustion settles, threatening to drag you down. Yet, you find solace in the knowledge that you are not alone in this battle.

Despite the weariness that seeps into your bones, your pride and determination refuse to waver. You cannot bear the thought of leaving the burden solely to Blade, for that would make you vulnerable at a crucial moment. You know that victory in this battle depends on your firm presence and contribution.

As the enemy forces thin, a surge of determination courses through your veins. You can taste victory within reach, a tantalizing prospect that fuels your resolve. With renewed focus, you rally your remaining energy, striking back with a newfound ferocity. Each blow is a testament to your unyielding spirit, a defiance against the constraints of your weariness.

And finally, as the last enemy falls to the ground, a moment of stillness descends upon the battlefield. The air is heavy with the scent of blood and sweat, mingled with the unmistakable aura of victory. You stand amidst the fallen, your breaths coming in heaves, your body weary and battered. But within the exhaustion, there is a sense of triumph, an indomitable spirit that refuses to be defeated.

Every breath you took came with labor, as if each inhale and exhale required a monumental effort. Weary and fatigued, you turned your body to face Blade, whose face remained unblemished, betraying no signs of exhaustion or weariness. It was as if he had not engaged in the grueling battle that had left you drained and depleted. 

Amazement and admiration swirled within you, mingling to form a chuckle that escaped your lips. You marveled at the strength embodied by your steadfast co-hunter, a strength that defied mortal limitations. The question lingered in your mind: Was this unwavering perseverance an inherent gift of his immortality?

Envy welled within you, a gnawing ache that intensified with each passing moment. It stemmed from Blade's indomitable will, his resolute determination that propelled him forward in the treacherous landscape of the battlefield. Yet, you couldn't help but be acutely aware that this very essence of strength—the enduring spirit that coursed through his veins—was also the source of his burden, one he carried with stoic grace.

Blade's eyes, intense and piercing, locked onto yours, their gaze penetrating through the facade of nonchalance he wore. A subtle furrow appeared between his brows. With each measured step, he closed the distance between you.

Your vision blurred, and the world around you transformed into a swirling haze, dissolving the boundaries between Blade and the backdrop. Amidst this kaleidoscope of colors, it was Blade's familiar hues that remained distinct, serving as a steadfast anchor amidst the chaotic whirlwind.

"(Name)," his voice called out, urgency lacing his tone, but you found yourself incapable of responding. Your focus shifted inward, drawn to the state of your own well-being. Fatigue clawed at your limbs, a relentless heaviness weighing down every movement, while a disorienting fuzziness clouded your thoughts.

Your body swayed, a mere puppet succumbing to the invisible forces tugging at your senses. Before comprehending the full extent of your unraveling consciousness, strong arms encircled your waist, pulling you into a tight embrace. The hold was both protective and firm, a lifeline anchoring you as you teetered on the precipice of unconsciousness.

With a final shuddering breath, the world around you faded into an all-encompassing darkness, your awareness slipping away like sand through your fingertips.

Blade's intense gaze remained fixed upon you, his eyes bearing witness to the toll that your relentless battles had taken on your weary form. He understood the limits that you, his trusted comrade, bore as a fellow hunter. Countless enemies had tested your stamina, their sheer numbers depleting your reserves as you confronted them head-on, side by side.

The signs of exhaustion were evident in the lousiness of your movements, your shoulders rising and falling in an irregular manner. Each breath became a heavy burden, weighing upon your chest. Your once fluid motions had begun to falter, slowing as weariness claimed its hold. Yet, even in the face of these challenges, you stood resolute, confronting the onslaught with dedication.

Finally, the last of your adversaries had been vanquished, leaving only stillness in their wake. Blade, ever vigilant, turned his attention towards you without delay. His piercing gaze met your weary countenance, observing a vulnerability that was unfamiliar to him. The customary smile that you often flashed at him, one that had grated his nerves in the past, was now replaced by a weariness he had not witnessed before—a new encounter, a glimpse of your fragility.

He approached you, his strides purposeful and deliberate, calling out your name to capture your attention. Yet, you remained lost in your own thoughts, your gaze fixated upon the ground as if oblivious to his voice. Sensing your imminent collapse, Blade's instincts kicked in, honed from years of battles fought side by side.

With remarkable swiftness, Blade extended his arm, snaking it around your waist, pulling you tightly against his chest. The impact of his swift action halted your impending fall, providing a secure anchor within the shelter of his embrace.

An irritated expression twisted Blade's features, his countenance marred by displeasure as he clicked his tongue in disapproval upon witnessing the vulnerability you now displayed. A flicker of annoyance danced within him, tugging at the corners of his being, yet an inexplicable flutter of something else lingered momentarily, a fleeting sensation that he swiftly dismissed.

He listened intently, attuned to the barely audible sound of your breathing, attesting to the rise and fall of your chest. Blade was certain that your slumber was merely a consequence of the relentless fatigue that accompanied the arduous battle you had endured. Letting out a sigh, he adjusted his stance, shifting his weight to better support you and ensure your comfort.

In the stillness, the sound of approaching footsteps broke the silence. Blade turned his gaze over his shoulder, catching sight of Kafka and Silver Wolf making their way toward him. A mischievous smirk adorned Kafka's face as her eyes fixated upon the curious and unusual scene unfolding before her.

"What happened to (Name)?" Silver Wolf inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity as she observed Blade and the slumbering figure in his arms.

"Fatigue," Blade responded curtly, his voice devoid of any elaboration.

"Oh? Did you encounter a formidable number of enemies then?" Kafka interjected with amusement. "It has been quite some time since I've seen (Name) exhausted to this extent. She usually dispatches her adversaries with impressive swiftness."

Blade chose not to respond to Kafka's remark, his gaze drifting down to your peaceful form nestled against his chest. The lines of fatigue that etched your face seemed to soften, revealing a vulnerability that was rarely witnessed. It was a sight that both intrigued and unsettled him, stirring emotions he struggled to comprehend.

"However, this scene is undoubtedly worth witnessing and quite rare.”

Blade's irritation grew as Kafka's words rang in his ears, emphasizing the rarity and significance of the scene unfolding before them. He groaned audibly, sensing the intrusion of his co-hunters into this trivial moment. 

However, his annoyance escalated to exasperation as the sound of a shutter reached his ears, followed by the realization that Silver Wolf had captured a photograph of you both in your vulnerable state.

"I will send this photo to (Name)," the hacker announced, her fingers swiftly tapping on her phone to carry out her plan.

His head snapped towards his co-hunters, a glare burning in his eyes as he observed Silver Wolf holding her phone aloft, a mischievous and amused grin etched upon Kafka's face as she stood beside her, hand confidently placed on her hips.

A deep groan escaped Blade's lips, a resounding protest against the audacity of their endeavor. The boundaries of privacy seemed to blur in their presence, and he found himself grappling with the precarious balance between camaraderie and personal space.

Unperturbed by Blade's disapproval, Silver Wolf announced her intention to send the captured photo to you, her fingers tapping on her phone to execute the plan. Kafka's amusement was evident in her voice, reveling in the presumed surprise that awaited you upon awakening to a barrage of messages.

"She will be bombarded with this photo as soon as she awakens," Kafka chuckled, relishing the anticipation she held within her mischievous gaze. Her words danced with a mixture of presumption and amusement, an implicit belief that the outcome would be nothing short of entertaining.

As Silver Wolf scrutinized the sent photo, her sharp eyes honed in on a particular detail that caught her attention. With a sense of urgency, she zoomed in on the image, focusing on your arm. A splotch of crimson stood out, a telltale sign of blood trickling down your skin. Instantly, she relayed the concerning discovery to her companions.

"I believe it's imperative that we return to headquarters and bring (Name) to the healer without delay," Silver Wolf suggested, her tone laced with genuine concern. As she faced the perplexed expressions of her companions, she clarified her reasoning. "I noticed blood on her arm in the photo. It's possible she sustained a wound during the battle."

Blade's gaze snapped towards you, his attention immediately drawn to the area where the hacker had spotted the alarming sight. His eyes scanned your slumbering form, searching for any evidence of injury. And there, peeking out from the side of your arm, he spotted the crimson stain, smearing his own sleeves with your blood. A huff of frustration escaped his lips, mingled with a tinge of exasperation.

He couldn't help but ruminate on the recklessness that often coursed through you, the audacity with which you faced danger.

Indignation surged within Blade, rising like a tempest within his chest as he contemplated the dire consequences of your actions. While he grudgingly acknowledged his own tendency for recklessness, a belief that his immortal nature would allow him to withstand wounds and slashes with ease, he recognized the stark contrast in your vulnerability. You did not possess the gift-like-curse of immortality, and the wounds you sustained held the potential for far graver repercussions.

Devising meticulous plans, carefully assessing the movements and intentions of your enemies, had always been the cornerstone of Blade's approach to victory. It was a calculated dance, a strategic ballet that he had honed over time.

Yet, what gnawed at Blade's core, sparking the ember of irritation within him, was the unsettling realization that he was irked by your recklessness. It should not concern him if you were to meet your demise on the battlefield. After all, death had been his elusive pursuit, an ever-present companion lurking in the recesses of his existence, a catchphrase that easily rolled off his tongue. It was a facet of his other self, one he had sought to embrace yet had never fully attained.

And yet, the bitter taste that lingered on the tip of his tongue, the annoyance that prickled beneath his skin, betrayed a profound unease at the thought of your death. It was an incongruity that bewildered him, challenging his steadfast commitment to detachment. How could you, someone he had never truly regarded beyond the confines of a fellow hunter, stir within him such distaste for the inevitability of death?

Blade grappled with the paradox, his irritation growing in intensity. The disconcerting reality of his emotions cast a veil of unease upon his otherwise steadfast resolve. The boundaries that he had carefully constructed, separating himself from the lives of others, seemed to blur in your presence.

It was an annoyance that Blade struggled to comprehend, an unwelcome intrusion upon his carefully cultivated existence.

"We must hurry, for there may be more adversaries in our path," Kafka suggested, her voice grained with urgency. 

In response, Blade swiftly and effortlessly scooped you up, cradling you in his arms with practiced ease—his hands supporting your knees and shoulders—before the trio embarked towards the waiting ship.

Their hurried footsteps resonated in unison. With every stride, Blade's focus remained fixed upon the precious cargo he carried, ensuring your safety as they made their way to the ship that would transport them to their destination.

Upon reaching their destination, Blade carefully set you down upon the bed in the clinic, relinquishing his hold as the healer swiftly took charge. His piercing gaze lingered upon you for a fleeting moment before he pivoted on his heel, preparing to depart the room.

“You’re leaving?” 

Kafka's sudden question halted Blade in his tracks, prompting him to turn his gaze toward her. A hint of curiosity flickered in his eyes, awaiting her explanation.

"There's no need for me to linger here," he stated matter-of-factly.

"You're not going to look after (Name)?"

The inquiry caused his eyebrow to arch in mild confusion. "And why should I do that?"

"You already know that yourself, Bladie," she stated with a playful tone and a mischievous glint in her eyes.

Blade's frown deepened, his irritation bubbling to the surface.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," he retorted, a note of finality in his voice. "And I have no interest in delving into whatever it is."

With that, Blade turned away, cutting off any further discussion. His steps carried him away from the room, leaving behind the enigmatic conversation. But, even as he walked away, the lingering words and insinuations gnawed at the edges of his thoughts, an unwelcome intrusion into his otherwise focused mind.

Blade found himself genuinely perplexed by Kafka's implications, unable to grasp the underlying meaning of her words. However, he couldn't deny the undeniable truth that it irritated him when it pertained to you. From the very beginning, since the moment you had invaded his mind, you had become a persistent presence, governing his thoughts and actions through your infuriating actions.

Within the recesses of his being, a tempestuous whirlwind raged, its origins elusive, its nature enigmatic. It swept through his soul, stirring up a maelstrom of emotions that clashed and clashed like thunderous waves against rugged cliffs. It was as if a churning vortex had taken residence within him, disrupting the tranquility he had come to know.

This enigmatic sensation, like a riddle without a solution, perplexed him, refusing to be neatly categorized or defined. It twisted and turned, defying his attempts to grasp its essence, teasing him with fleeting glimpses of comprehension before slipping away like smoke through his fingertips. It was a phantom, taunting him with its complex nature.

This inexplicable connection with you contradicted his stoic nature, defying the boundaries he had meticulously established to safeguard his emotions. The turbulence it caused within him was an unwelcome disruption, disturbing the delicate equilibrium he had carefully maintained for so long. Yet, despite his disdain for this unfamiliar sentiment, he couldn't escape its hold.

For now, Blade chose to bury those uncertainties, channeling his focus back to the tasks at hand. The path of a hunter was one fraught with danger and uncertainty, and he couldn't allow himself to be swayed by unexplained sentiments. With a steady stride, he continued his journey, suppressing the whisper of concern that followed in his wake.

“We have a new member in our team,” Kafka announced, looking at her side where a woman stood. “This is (Name). She will join as soon as Elio instructs us.”

As Kafka made the announcement, introducing you as the newest member of their team, your presence drew the attention of the group. All eyes turned towards you, including Blade's, who observed the exchange with a stoic expression.

Silver Wolf, brimming with an air of confidence, rose from her seat and approached you and Kafka. She introduced herself with a cool demeanor, extending her hand for a formal handshake. You reciprocate the gesture, a warm smile gracing your lips as you accept her greeting.

"(Name). I am pleased to meet you," you replied, your tone reflecting sincerity and openness. 

Beside her, Kafka took it upon herself to introduce Blade, her words tinged with a hint of playful warning.

"And this is Blade. He's got a few quirks, but he's a pretty decent guy. Just make sure you don't rub him the wrong way. But please beware around him," Kafka introduces him on his behalf, with a casual tone.

She conveyed his complexities, acknowledging the challenges that might arise when interacting with him. Blade simply nodded in acknowledgment, his gaze steady as he absorbed the introductions.

Taking the initiative, you extended your hand towards Blade, your gesture mirroring the earlier exchange between Silver Wolf and yourself. With a gentle smile, you spoke, voicing your hope to maintain a positive rapport.

"Blade, it's a pleasure to meet you too. I hope I can avoid getting on your bad side," you said with genuine sincerity, the sparkle in your eyes hinting at your lightheartedness.

Rather than accepting your extended hand, Blade's reaction was one of dismissiveness and disdain. He emitted a snort of irritation before abruptly turning his back to you, retreating to his designated place. It was a deliberate gesture, a clear message that he had no intention of entertaining any further interaction or connection with you.

From that moment onward, a peculiar dynamic unfolded between you and Blade. The intensity of your gaze, your unwavering attention directed towards him, became a persistent source of irritation and anger. It was as if your eyes bore into his very being, their weight an ever-present reminder of your presence.

Whether in the midst of missions or within the confines of the headquarters, your stares persisted, unabated and noticeable. It was a lack of discretion that only heightened his vexation, making it impossible for him to ignore the density of your steady focus.

Initially, Blade had chosen to overlook your behavior, granting you the benefit of the doubt and assuming that it would soon wane or change. He had granted you his patience and considered it a passing phase, a temporary inconvenience. However, as the days wore on and your behavior remained unchanged, frustration welled within him, igniting a simmering anger that threatened to boil over.

He had expected the glue-like hold you seemed to have on him to loosen, to fade away. Yet, to his dismay, it clung to him with unrelenting persistence, defying his attempts to shake it off. The irritation stirred within him, his patience waning, as the boundary of tolerance grew thinner with each passing moment.

The sudden aggression in Blade's actions shattered the fragile calm that had previously enveloped the hallway. The forceful slam against the wall resonated through the confined space, echoing with a resounding intensity. His arms flanked your head, his piercing gaze meeting your bewildered self with an unsettling mix of intensity and rage.

Caught off guard, you found yourself pinned against the unyielding surface, your movement restricted by the sheer force of Blade's hold. The abrupt halt in your path to your room left you suspended in a moment of uncertainty, as you struggled to comprehend the reason behind his unexpected and aggressive actions.

“What is your scheme, huh?”

His voice, husky yet dangerous, sliced through the air like a blade. His inquiry demanded answers, seeking to unravel the motivations behind your actions, or perhaps to assert dominance over the situation. The solemnity of his words filled the space, leaving little room for evasion or half-truths.

As Blade's intense gaze bore into your own, his indignation smoldered beneath the surface. The innocence reflected in your eyes, an aspect he vehemently abhorred, only served to further stoke the flames of his anger. It was a stark contrast to his own nature, an antithesis that rankled against his very being.

You responded, your voice steady yet laced with a hint of composure. 

"I don't know what you're talking about," you declared, your words echoing in the tense atmosphere.

Blade's growl reverberated through the air, a primal display of dominance and power. The impact of his hands against the wall echoed his warning, a reminder of what he was capable of should he be further provoked. But, despite his fearsome actions, you remained steadfast, your unwavering gaze fixed upon him, as if seeking to untangle the enigma that resided within his soul.

His voice, dripping with darkness and cruelty, lashed out at you, laying bare his frustrations. The intensity of his stare pierced through you, the weight of his words bearing down upon your shoulders. He acknowledged the patience he had shown thus far, acknowledging the restraint he had exercised in the face of your relentless scrutiny.

"You have persistently fixed your gaze upon me, which has been rather vexing. Consider yourself fortunate that, despite my reputation for impatience, I have displayed remarkable restraint and refrained from terminating your existence due to your incessant and intrusive stares."

In response to his threat, you remained resolute, your voice steady as you spoke. "Then, I am thankful that you haven't taken my life yet.”

“Tell me a plausible reason to refrain myself from ending you.”

"I want to know more about you," you admitted, your voice holding a mixture of curiosity and determination. It was a risky statement, one that defied his expectations and pushed the boundaries of his guarded existence.

His piercing gaze bore into you, intensifying with disbelief and a hint of warning. The depths of his glare seemed to echo a sense of cruelty and danger, as if he dared you to challenge his skepticism.

"Don't test me," he scowled, his voice laced with an edge of threat.

"I beg to differ," you retort. "You remain an enigma to me, a puzzle that has piqued my curiosity. It was relatively effortless for me to become acquainted with Kafka and the others, but you, on the other hand, prove to be a unique challenge. Perhaps it is your distant and aloof nature that sets you apart, or perhaps there are deeper underlying factors at play."

"You previously mentioned your desire to avoid antagonizing me, yet it appears that you have now succeeded in doing so."

Blade's words dripped with venom, his threat drifting through the charged atmosphere. The darkness that shrouded him threatened to consume the space between you, leaving little room for leniency or understanding. It was clear that he believed you had crossed a line, evoking the wrath of his ire.

With a heavy sigh, you faced him without fear.

Blade's disbelief was palpable, his features contorted in a mix of incredulity and frustration. His eyebrows furrowed deeply, and his clenched jaw revealed the inner turmoil as he fought to rein in his rising anger. With one final glare, he abruptly withdrew his body, releasing you from the oppressive presence he had imposed upon you.

"Your reasons for joining the Stellaron hunters are not my concern," he declared, his voice laced with an undeniable edge of irritation. "Keep your intrusive curiosity to yourself and refrain from bothering others. I have no interest in knowing anything about anyone, including you."

The finality in his words echoed through the space, underscoring his disinterest in delving into matters beyond the immediate scope of their shared mission. It was a clear message, signaling that further attempts to breach the walls he had erected would be met with resistance and hostility.

With that, Blade turned away, leaving you to absorb the weight of his rejection and the boundaries he had firmly established. The tension between you hung in the air, an unspoken barrier that seemed insurmountable. 

As he strode off, a cold and distant aura enveloped him, shielding him from the intrusions of curiosity and connection that you had attempted to breach.

The surreptitious glances you cast in Blade's direction did not escape notice, despite his prior warnings and threat. Nonetheless, he begrudgingly acknowledged that the frequency of those glances had diminished compared to earlier encounters. When accompanying other hunters on missions, it granted Blade a fleeting respite, a temporary reprieve from the occasional scrutinizing gazes that seemed to dissect him from afar.

Yet, upon your return, you would invariably greet him with an amiable smile and a friendly wave, seemingly oblivious to his prior admonitions. Blade, resolute in maintaining his distance, opted for complete disregard, refusing to acknowledge your presence or partake in any form of interaction.

However, when circumstances dictated that the two of you found yourselves on the same mission, the task became increasingly burdensome for Blade. Not due to any perceived deficiency on your part, but rather because of the unyielding intensity of your penetrating stares. They bore into him, as if endeavoring to unravel the enigmatic cloak that enveloped his very essence.

In response, Blade's glare would intensify, a lethal warning etched within his gaze. It stood as a silent plea for you to desist in your unyielding observation, a plea that fell upon deaf ears. Despite his explicit caution, you persisted in your pursuit, undeterred by his unspoken signals.

There arrived a moment when Blade's anger and irritation reached a boiling point, overpowering his self-restraint. In an uncontrollable surge of rage, he found himself unsheathing his sword, employing it as a tangible manifestation of his pent-up emotions. It was a perilous act, a palpable reflection of his internal struggle, as he fought to regain dominion over himself in the face of your relentless actions.

However, even in light of his aggression, you remained undeterred, unflinching in the face of the menace he presented. The clash between the two of you transformed into a battle of wills, an unyielding pursuit on your part juxtaposed with his unwavering resistance. The tension between you surged, leaving behind a trail of disquietude and exasperation in its wake.

Intrigued by Kafka's insatiable curiosity, she felt compelled to confront Blade about his abrupt outburst. Approaching him with a mixture of fascination and concern, her voice held a subtle undertone of intrigue, as she sought to crack the reason behind his aggressive actions.

"Why did you resort to such measures, Bladie?" she inquired, her tone infused with genuine curiosity.

The embers of Blade's anger still smoldered within him, evident in the acerbic manner in which he delivered his words. 

"That woman certainly knows how to stoke the fires of my fury," he growled, bitterness dripping from his voice.

Kafka's eyes narrowed, fixating on Blade intently. She meticulously assessed the situation, scouring for any visible signs of harm inflicted upon him, only to find none. There had to be a catalyst, a trigger that had prompted such an instinctive and volatile response from him.

Based on her astute observations, Kafka deduced that your actions had not warranted such an aggressive reaction. Puzzlement tinged her words as she probed deeper, yearning for clarity.

"From what I witnessed, (Name) did nothing to incite your anger. Or am I missing something?"

Blade's head snapped towards Kafka, his forehead furrowing with a blend of frustration and defensiveness. 

"She persisted with those vexing stares, despite my explicit warning," he retorted.

A playful spark flickered within Kafka's eyes as she observed Blade, a subtle amusement tugging at the corners of her lips. 

"Ah, I comprehend now," she replied, a trace of understanding seeping into her voice. "So, that is the crux of the matter."

Blade huffed, his frustration unabated. "If she refuses to desist, I shall not hesitate to end her myself," he declared, his words carrying an icy finality.

Kafka's amusement only intensified, her expression transforming into one of playful intrigue. She appeared to find the entire situation rather entertaining, studying Blade with a blend of fascination and amusement. It was evident that she had gleaned something deeper from the intricate dynamics between you and Blade, something that transcended mere annoyance.

With the threat hanging palpably in the air, the tension between you and Blade reached an unprecedented apex, the consequences of your unyielding stares teetering on treacherous ground. The ball now rested in your court, presenting you with a pivotal choice – either relent and abandon this perilous path or persist with an unwavering determination, willing to face the consequences that lay in wait.

The passage of time transformed weeks into months, and yet, there remained no trace of your return from the mission undertaken alongside Kafka. Blade found himself ensnared in an unfamiliar state of tranquility, relishing in the absence of your persistent stares. Initially expecting your reappearance after a mere week, he had braced himself for the resumption of your penetrating gaze. However, the passing months painted a contrasting picture, shrouding your whereabouts in mystery.

Inquiries gnawed at the fringes of Blade's consciousness. Could the mission truly detain you for such an extensive duration? It seemed implausible that you and Kafka, both formidable in your own right, would succumb to failure or meet your demise at the hands of adversaries. Blade intimately understood the strength and cunning of his comrades. Furthermore, the absence of any official proclamations from Elio only heightened his conviction that your mission endured.

Despite his profound antipathy towards you, Blade could not dismiss your capabilities. He was not petty enough to overlook or disregard the skills of another, even if he harbored personal disdain. Reluctantly, he acknowledged your competence, recognizing that you were not to be underestimated.

Yet, amidst the tranquil days, thoughts of you infiltrated Blade's mind akin to an unyielding anchor rooted deep within the ocean floor. Rare was the occasion when he allowed himself to be consumed by thoughts of another, especially one who irked him to the core. The frustration and anger that simmered within him escalated with each passing day, a constant reminder of the enigma you had become in his existence.

Blade grappled with reconciling these conflicting emotions, struggling to comprehend why you had managed to etch yourself so indelibly in his thoughts. He battled against his own resistance, resenting the intrusion of your presence monopolizing his mind. It was a vexing state of affairs, leaving him wrestling with an amalgamation of sentiments he had long sought to suppress.

As the months gradually wore on, Blade found himself increasingly exasperated by the lingering presence of your memory within his thoughts. The weight of your existence persisted like an anchor, impeding the tranquility of his mind. It posed an enigma that defied resolution, a puzzle that exasperated him to no end.

Blade's ruminations incessantly revolved around the void created by your absence, compelling him to ponder over the intricacies of your mission and the current state of affairs. Despite having access to the contact information of all the Stellaron hunters, he deliberately abstained from possessing any trace of your details. The contempt he nurtured towards your presence rendered any form of direct communication superfluous in his discerning eyes.

His inclinations inclined towards solitude and seclusion, seldom initiating contact with his fellow hunters unless exigencies dictated such action. He refrained from extending his reach to others or responding to their messages unless they pertain directly to the ongoing missions at hand. Blade discerned no necessity for casual conversations or trivial exchanges that deviated from the intended purpose.

"I am aware that your perpetual annoyance and anger are constants, but on this occasion, they seem to possess a heightened potency compared to prior instances, even in the absence of any discernible source of provocation," Silver Wolf remarked, her voice resounding within their customary resting room. Engrossed in her gaming pursuits, she paused momentarily after completing a round.

Blade cast a sidelong glance at her, his irritation apparent. However, he chose to remain silent, maintaining his comfortable position on the couch as his gaze reverted to fixating upon the aquarium wall situated before him.

"Even in your current relaxed state, I can sense the presence of your simmering irritation permeating the room, you're aware of that, aren't you?"

Silver Wolf let out a sigh of resignation, her shoulders slumping in response to Blade's unresponsive demeanor. But just as the air left her lungs, a familiar sound filled the air, slicing through the silence—her phone's ringing tone. It was Kafka on the line, and without hesitation, she swiftly accepted the call.

"Hey."

"Hello, Silver Wolf! I'm out shopping today since it's our well-deserved rest day for both (Name) and I."

Silver Wolf caught a movement from the corner of her eye, prompting her to turn her head and meet Blade's gaze. He had straightened his posture on the couch from his relaxed position, his attention now fixated on her. A shift in his demeanor was apparent; he seemed alert and engaged as he observed Kafka's video call.

"When will you be back?" the hacker inquired.

"I'm still waiting for Elio's instructions. He mentioned that we should remain here for a while longer, as there's an upcoming mission on the horizon."

"And where's (Name)?"

A soft rustling sound reached Silver Wolf's ears once more, drawing her attention. Her gaze shifted to Blade, noting the subtle change in his posture. He now leaned forward, his upper body hunched over with elbows resting on his knees, his hands intertwined together. His focused stance mirrored his intent, as if he hung onto every word exchanged during the conversation.

"(Name) is currently recuperating in a small hospital. She sustained an injury during our mission, though thankfully, it isn't too severe.”

"Tell her to rest well.”

"Of course.”

With the call concluded, she pocketed her phone and shifted her gaze towards Blade, her eyes searching for any trace of empathy or understanding. Yet, his response was a mere scoff, accompanied by a dismissive comment.

"Weak," he uttered, his tone laced with disdain and Silver Wolf only released a defeated sigh.

With the homecoming of weary hunters, an air of relief and delight enveloped the headquarters. Genuine smiles adorned the faces of Silver Wolf and their comrades, manifesting their sincere joy as they warmly welcomed your return from the arduous mission. The unity and camaraderie among the team were palpable, tangible evidence of the bonds forged through shared trials and tribulations.

Blade trailed behind Silver Wolf, observing the scene with a detached interest. His gaze fleetingly brushed over the joyful countenances and animated conversations, until it settled upon you—the very source of his vexation. There you stood, radiant with an effusive grin, your hand extended in a friendly wave.

In that moment, an unfamiliar warmth stirred within Blade, threatening to breach the fortress he had meticulously erected around his emotions. It was a sensation alien and disconcerting, a stark departure from his accustomed state of detached coldness. Its presence vexed him to no end, this inexplicable emergence of nascent sentiments that simmered just beneath the surface.

He endeavored to quell the burgeoning warmth, dismissing it as a transient aberration in his otherwise composed and chaotic existence. Yet, with each subsequent encounter, every instance where your firm gaze locked onto him, the intensity of this sensation surged, chipping away at his steely resolve. Frustration surged within him, further aggravating the already tempestuous storm of his emotions.

Blade fought against the onslaught of these unfamiliar sentiments, unwilling to succumb to their influence. He clung to the familiarity of his annoyance, his irritation serving as a shield against the disconcerting stirrings within his heart. But deep down, he knew that ignoring these feelings would only fuel their fire, intensifying the turmoil he sought so desperately to quell.

As the days unfolded and your presence remained a constant in his life, Blade found himself increasingly entangled in a web of conflicting emotions. The war between his irritation and the burgeoning warmth waged on, leaving him with a sense of frustration and a growing awareness of the enigma you had become to him.

In the midst of the chaotic battlefield, where danger lurked at every turn, a pivotal moment unfolded that would test the depths of your connection. As the clash of weapons echoed around you, a swift and unexpected strike found its mark, piercing Blade's chest with a searing pain.

In that instant, your instinctual response kicked in, overriding any fear or hesitation that threatened to consume you. With unwavering determination, you raced towards Blade, your steps propelled by a surge of panic and concern. The gravity of the situation urged you to act swiftly, to protect him from further harm.

Despite the formidable adversaries that interposed themselves along your path, your singular focus remained unwaveringly fixed upon your wounded comrade. Each opponent that dared to obstruct your passage fell swiftly and decisively to your calculated strikes. Guided by a relentless sense of urgency, you traversed the battlefield with unwavering resolve, your purpose anchored in reaching Blade's side and attending to his injuries.

Finally arriving at his side, your hands descended upon his wounded chest with an unyielding grip. Worry danced upon your countenance, etching a crease upon your brow and compelling your teeth to gnaw on your lip. Clutching a tightly held handkerchief, you applied firm pressure to his wound, striving to staunch the torrent of blood that threatened to steal his vitality.

Blade, despite his internal resistance to your ministrations, could not help but perceive the genuine concern etched across your visage. The furrowed brows, the resolve that emanated from your eyes, and the sheer intensity of your actions conveyed volumes, surpassing the need for any spoken words in that critical juncture.

"Blade, we must attend to this injury quickly!"

Your voice quivered with genuine concern and panic, causing Blade to momentarily recoil, caught off guard by the sincerity emanating from your words. The urgency in your voice and the unmistakable tremor in your tone pierced through his defenses, reaching a dormant place within him that had long remained untouched.

Perplexity enveloped him as he struggled to comprehend the depth of your distress over a mere wound, particularly considering his own immortal nature. Yet, as his gaze remained fixed upon your countenance, a subtle yet undeniable transformation transpired within him. A tingling sensation rippled from the pit of his stomach, coursing through his chest—a foreign and unfamiliar sensation that evoked curiosity rather than repulsion.

Blade caught a glimpse of something he had long denied himself—the touch of genuine concern and the presence of someone who genuinely cared. It served as a stark contrast to the scorn and condemnation he had grown accustomed to receiving from others. For the first time in centuries, there was someone in close proximity, tending to his well-being without reservation.

A tumultuous dichotomy of irritation and acceptance rose within him, engendering a tangled tapestry of conflicting emotions. The familiar irritation that had once consumed him began to dissipate, gradually replaced by a growing appreciation for your presence and the concern you exhibited.

Though the intricacies of his shifting emotions eluded full comprehension, Blade acknowledged the faint stirrings of comfort that arose in your proximity. 

"What happened?" Kafka's voice interjected, causing you to whip your head in her direction. The perplexed look on her face mirrored your own surprise, as she observed the perturbation etched on your features.

"Blade... he got stabbed! We need to hurry and bring him to the healer!" Panic laced your words, urgency driving you to take swift action.

Kafka's eyes followed your hand, which was placed on Blade's chest, the rise and fall of his breath now a matter of concern. Slowly, her gaze ascended to his face, a mixture of irritation and nonchalance evident in his features. Then, her attention refocused on your frantic self.

A few moments passed, during which Kafka's gaze seemed to penetrate the situation, processing the scene before her. Suddenly, a burst of laughter erupted from her chest, echoing through the tense atmosphere.

"Why are you laughing? This is not a laughing matter, Kafka!" you exclaimed, your frustration palpable as you glared at the wine-haired beauty.

Blade let out a low groan, vigorously slapping your hand away from his chest. His unexpected display of aggression surprised you, especially considering the wound he had sustained. It was as if the act of being stabbed was nothing more than an ordinary occurrence for him, leaving you even more baffled. Was that the reason behind Kafka's laughter?

Your confusion deepened, and you couldn't make sense of the situation.

"Oh, (Name). I thought you knew," Kafka chuckled, her laughter now laced with a sense of amusement at your bewilderment.

"About what?" 

With a brief glance at Blade, who was sheathing his sword with his back turned to them, Kafka's words carried a hint of knowing.

"Bladie is no stranger to mere wounds or injuries. That particular wound is insignificant to him. He is impervious to any harm inflicted upon his physical form. In fact, he transcends the limitations of us human beings; he is immortal, my dear (Name)."

WIth Kafka’s revelation your treatment of him immensely changed. As well as Blade found himself caught in a flurry of contradictions, torn between the desire for your absence and the inexplicable irritation when you complied with his wishes. Your change in treatment, while seemingly what he had wanted, now left him more unsettled and furious than ever before.

He couldn't understand why he was feeling this way, and it frustrated him to no end. The inexplicable emotions that welled up within him whenever you were around were foreign and unwelcome. It was as if the walls he had erected around his heart were slowly crumbling, revealing a vulnerability he had long suppressed.

The sight of you flashing smiles at others, tending to their wounds with genuine concern, ignited an unfamiliar sensation within him. He detested the repulsive sensation that surged through him, the possessive instinct that flared up whenever he saw you caring for someone else. He loathed the fact that you had this effect on him, making him question his own emotions and reactions.

Blade couldn't fathom why he cared, why he was bothered by your interactions with others. He was the immortal, the one who had long shut himself off from emotional attachments. And yet, here you were, weaving your way into his thoughts and emotions, stirring up a turmoil he couldn't escape.

With each passing day, the irritation only intensified, creating a storm of clashing emotions within him. He was more furious with himself for feeling this way, for allowing you to affect him in ways he had never experienced before.

Kafka, with her keen and perceptive eyes, couldn't help but remark upon Blade's discernibly heightened irritation—an observation that had not eluded her astute perception. Driven by her insatiable curiosity, she promptly broached the subject, seeking to unravel the enigma of his unusual demeanor. Yet, true to his character, Blade responded with his customary dismissiveness, casually brushing aside her concerns without proffering any elucidation. With an air of nonchalance, he redirected his attention to the task at hand, leaving the mystery of his behavior to linger in the air, unresolved.

Time seemed to elude Blade as he stood in his room. Lost in a labyrinth of thoughts concerning you, he found himself unaware of the passing hours, each moment consumed by you. A soft groan of frustration escaped his lips, acknowledging his own inability to pull away from his thoughts of you.

Feeling the weight of his restless mind, Blade resolved to take a moment for himself, to release some pent-up tension and clear his head. With purposeful steps, he made his way towards the nearby shower, where he could let off some steam. As the water continued to cascade over his form, Blade attempted to center his attention on the sensation of droplets caressing his skin, hoping it might serve as a distraction from the turmoil that roiled within his mind. Allowing the warmth to envelop him, he sought to ease the tension in his muscles, striving to liberate himself from the grip of his incessant thoughts. 

Shaking his head, he endeavored to clear his mind of these unwelcome musings. 

"What is wrong with me?" he muttered to himself, perturbed by the uncharacteristic surge of emotions that enveloped him. He had prided himself on being an unyielding and emotionless immortal, impervious to the influences of the world around him. Yet, there he stood, beleaguered by persistent thoughts concerning a mere mortal such as yourself.

With a resigned sigh, he turned off the shower and stepped out, enveloping his form with a towel. Gazing at his reflection in the fogged-up mirror, his crimson eyes reflected a blend of irritation and confusion. The unanticipated unraveling of his self-control by your presence bewildered him, leaving him grappling with emotions he could not completely understand.

Clasping his fists, he felt a surge of anger stirring within him. He could not afford to be ensnared by distractions, especially with perilous missions on the horizon. He must reclaim his focus and staunchly set aside these unwelcome and perplexing emotions.

Blade was clad in nothing but a short pajama, a towel casually draped over his shoulders to catch the lingering droplets of water. As he moved towards his bed, the resounding knock on his door demanded his attention. Curious and somewhat irritated by the intrusion, he opened the door, only to be taken aback by the sight before him—you standing there, an unexpected presence in this hour.

His surprise was evident in the slight widening of his eyes and the subtle raising of his brows. He couldn't fathom how you managed to leave the infirmary, where you were supposed to be resting. He silently calculated the time since their arrival, and the realization struck him like a bolt of lightning—five hours had passed.

"Hello," you greeted timidly. "I hope I'm not intruding."

"What brings you here?" he asked, irritated.

"I just wanted to express my gratitude for carrying me back to headquarters... and, well, apologize for any inconvenience."

"There was no other option. Kafka and Silver Wolf couldn't have taken you to the infirmary, could they? So, there's no need for thanks or apologies."

His blunt words briefly caught you off guard, causing you to blink before mustering a small smile.

"Oh." You blinked, mustering a small smile. "You're right. In that case, I'll take my leave now."

With a respectful bow, you turned on your heels, preparing to depart from his presence.

Blade's unwavering gaze remained fixated on you as you turned to depart, yet his eyes were subtly drawn to the exposed nape of your neck, igniting an inexplicable and unfamiliar sensation within him. The sight stirred something indescribable, a strange blend of emotions that only added to his growing frustration.

A maelstrom of confusion engulfed his thoughts as he questioned what was happening to him. Was he losing control, his once-steadfast sanity slipping through his grasp like elusive sand? The enigmatic emotions that besieged him intensified, leaving him grappling with a turbulent turmoil that defied understanding.

Just as the sound of heels clicking heralded your departure, Blade's trance was abruptly shattered. A primal force took hold of him, compelling him to act instinctively. In a moment beyond conscious contemplation, he seized your wrist, pulling you into his room with an abrupt force that elicited a surprised yelp from you. The door slammed shut behind you, sealing the two of you within its confines.

With an aggressive demeanor, Blade pinned you against the wall, his imposing figure rendering you feeling confined and vulnerable. His arms effectively caged you on either side of your head, while his intense gaze bore into you menacingly.

“W-What?”

Evident confusion colored your countenance as you cautiously questioned Blade, uncertain if your presence had once again provoked his irritation. His crimson eyes bore into you menacingly, wordlessly refusing to offer any response, leaving you to draw in a sharp breath, attempting to steady yourself. The charged atmosphere weighed heavily, prompting contemplation on whether a hasty escape was prudent. Yet, deep down, you recognized the futility of such an endeavor, as Blade's unmatched speed and strength would swiftly thwart any such attempt.

Summoning your courage, you made another attempt to prompt him, your words quivering slightly as they escaped your lips.

"Is there something you wish to say to me?" Despite the trepidation that tugged at your composure, you endeavored to maintain a composed facade, resolute in concealing your vulnerability.

Blade's response came with a visible grimace, his frustration unmistakable in his words, "You have persistently become annoying."

As he dipped his head, intensifying his scrutiny upon you, you valiantly struggled to keep your expression relaxed, even as your trembling hands betrayed the true depth of your emotions. The fearless front you displayed appeared only to further kindle his anger, intensifying the storm of emotions that swirled within him.

You are maddening.

"What did I even do?" Your voice took on a challenging tone, akin to that of a young cub ready to fight and growl. Intensely, you locked eyes with Blade, seeking an explanation for his behavior and his cryptic words.

"I should be the one saying that," he responded, his baritone voice carrying an edge of frustration. His answer only deepened your bewilderment, leaving you more perplexed than before.

"Huh? I don't understand—" you began to speak, but Blade's growl cut you off, silencing your words. 

“What did you even do to me? Do you have another ability that can control emotions without our knowledge?”

His sudden accusation threw you off balance, as he insinuated that you possessed an ability to control emotions unbeknownst to anyone.

Your eyebrow arched in surprise and disbelief at the preposterous notion. You couldn't fathom what had gotten into Blade to make such an accusation, but you knew you needed to explain yourself, to set the record straight.

"Blade, I must admit I'm quite baffled by your accusation, as I genuinely don't know what you're referring to. I assure you, I haven't been doing anything to intentionally irritate you," you calmly explained with unfaltering eyes. "In fact, I've been following the caution you advised me about. So, I'm at a loss as to why you're upset with me once again."

Blade was right. Your compliance with his previous warning seemed to be the catalyst for your altered treatment of him. But what baffled him even more was why this change had only manifested recently, not from the very day he initially cautioned you.

Moreover, why is he justifying himself and becoming frustrated yet again? The question rings within him, echoing like an elusive whisper in the depths of his mind. He yearned to understand the source of his inner turmoil, to unravel the feelings that are sprouting in him.

The air was charged with an unmistakable sense of unease, and you could feel the weight of his emotions, veiled behind his crimson eyes. The conflict within him seemed to mirror the battle within your own heart, yearning to bridge the gap between you and find a common ground.

As you continued to gaze at him, a sliver of vulnerability flashed across Blade's hardened facade. It was fleeting, like a flickering flame, but enough to hint at the complex emotions that churned beneath his stoic exterior. His frustration seemed to be rooted in something deeper, something he struggled to put into words.

"You're well aware that I could wrap my hands around your neck and squeeze out that life of yours, aren't you?" he murmured, his lips hovering just above your ear, causing a shiver to course down your spine.

“Y-You’re crazy…”

He retracted his head slightly, fixing you with a sharp and penetrating gaze. The subtle quivering of your lips did not escape his notice, and a silent challenge passed between you both. His eyes traced a path from your intense gaze, skimming over your nose before finally lingering on your lips—a peculiar fixation, as if he had stumbled upon something mesmerizing and peculiar. An unusual urge seemed to flicker in his mind, an impulse to sink his teeth into your soft flesh until it bled.

Blade's tongue darted out, leaving a glistening trail across his lips as he raised his gaze to meet yours once more. The crimson hue of his eyes gleamed with a dangerous allure, veiled by a haze of emotions not easily discernible. Your jaw involuntarily dropped, unable to contain the wild pounding of your heart. The tension crackled with intensity, enveloping you both in its all-encompassing grip.

Every fiber of your being urged you to step back, to flee from the enigmatic danger that lurked in his captivating gaze. Yet, an inexplicable magnetism held you firmly in place, as if some invisible force bound you together.

The air hung heavy with anticipation, each passing second stretching into what felt like an eternal moment. Words seemed superfluous, for the unspoken language between your intertwined gazes conveyed more than mere sentences ever could. The space between you two became charged with a palpable energy, akin to the approach of an electrifying storm—impossible to ignore, as it enveloped you both in its relentless and tantalizing embrace.

"B-Blade—"

In an unforeseen twist of events, Blade's lips collided onto yours with a fervor that left you wide-eyed and breathless. The abruptness of the action rendered you momentarily frozen, unable to process the torrent of emotions and sensations that surged through your body.

Far from tender, the kiss bore a fierce and almost desperate intensity, as though it carried the weight of his very existence. It seemed as if he sought to carve himself upon you, as if this act of intimacy represented the last defiant stroke in a battle he waged within himself.

A sharp whimper involuntarily escaped your lips as he bit down with force, the metallic tang of your blood mingling with the taste of his kiss. The stinging sensation jolted you, yet you found yourself unable to push him away, as his strength overwhelmed any feeble attempts to resist. Instead, instinctively, you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shoulders, seeking to anchor yourself amidst the swirling chaos.

When he eventually withdrew, your breaths intertwined within the tensed air enveloping you both. His crimson eyes bore into yours, a tumultuous mix of emotions reflecting in their depths. Words eluded you as your mind grappled with the tangled array of feelings that engulfed you.

All was a blur, your heart pounding in your chest, mirroring the adrenaline-fueled rush of your thoughts. You felt like an unwitting participant in a dance of fate, entangled within a complex web of emotions that seemed to defy all rationality.

Blade's actions left you dazed and vulnerable, your thoughts in disarray. However, beneath the veil of aggression, you couldn't help but sense a raw vulnerability in him, a vulnerability that mirrored the turmoil of your own feelings.

His intense gaze bore into you, searing into your very soul, as he uttered those few words that carried a world of meaning. 

"You make me go crazy."

[amateurvoltaire]

The Deputy of Humanity

In August 1790, Robespierre, then deputy in the National Assembly, received a letter from a young man in Aisne. The subject of the letter was of little consequence in the grand scheme of things: the author was expressing his concern that the free monthly markets for grain and sheep in his village of Blérancourt might be moved to the rival village of Coucy.

The subject of the letter may have been trivial, but its author was not. Louis Antoine Saint-Just, not yet twenty-three, was quickly outgrowing local politics and had his eyes on debuting on the national stage. In around two years’ time, he would become one of Robespierre’s closest allies. But back in 1790, the young man only knew him “like God, through miracles” ("comme Dieu, par des merveilles"). This would be the first contact between the two men.

The letter has been widely translated, quoted, and speculated on. It is very well-written, with the effusive admiration and almost hero worship of the young man practically jumping off the page. Whether Saint-Just was entirely genuine or not is hardly consequential. Robespierre clearly found his admiration touching because he kept the letter until the end of his life.

The fact that Robespierre kept the letter is a sweet gesture that can be interpreted in a myriad of different ways. Perhaps he enjoyed the flattery, or maybe he wanted to keep a memento of the beginning of their friendship with Saint-Just. Maybe he simply forgot to throw it away. In my opinion, it's not very important.

What I find more interesting and revealing about Robespierre's character is that a young lieutenant colonel of the National Guard of the department of Aisne felt empowered to raise his provincial concerns to a deputy who wasn't even representing his constituency. Why would he do that? Setting aside Saint-Just's audacity and desire for recognition, the simple reason is that he knew he would be heard.

Since the days of the Estates General, Robespierre had not only been gaining popularity but was also notorious for standing up for the interests of the common man beyond his own province (later on department). For all the flattery, Saint-Just was right: Robespierre wasn’t only the deputy from Arras; he was “[the deputy] of humanity and the Republic (1)”. He frequently weighed in, as a dissenting voice, on matters of national importance, maintaining a consistent stance that always favoured the underdog. This was nothing new. His entire career in Arras had been built on helping the common man. On a national stage, he vocally continued that work.

He opposed the king's veto power over constitutional laws and emphasized the sovereignty of the nation over monarchical traditions. He also opposed the exclusion of "passive" citizens (2) from the National Guard and advocated for extending voting rights. All this, along with his defense of civic equality for various groups, including actors, Protestants, and Jews, solidified his position as a defender of the people.

Despite facing mockery from royalist publications and some of his peers, he remained steadfast in his dedication to the universal principles of the Revolution, with the most crucial principle being the sovereignty of the people. If the people are sovereign, then their grievances are significant. It's understandable that Saint-Just would reach out to him regarding the issue with the village market. He wasn't the only one.

For what it's worth, Robespierre probably didn’t intervene in the matter, but Blérancourt ultimately did retain its markets.

Translation (3)

Blérancourt, near Noyon, August 19, 1790

You who support the faltering homeland against the torrent of despotism and intrigue, you whom I know only, like God, through miracles; I address you, sir, to ask you to join me in saving my sad country.

The town of Coucy has transferred (so the rumour goes here) the free markets from the village of Blérancourt. Why should the cities swallow up the privileges of the countryside? Then, nothing will remain for the latter but the taille (direct tax) and taxes! Please, support with all your talent a petition that I am sending by the same mail, in which I ask for my inheritance to be joined to the national domains of the district so that my country may retain a privilege without which it must starve.

I do not know you, but you are a great man. You are not just the representative of a province; you are that of humanity and the Republic. Please ensure that my request is not scorned.

I have the honour of being, sir, your humble and obedient servant,

Saint-Just,

elector (4) in the department of Aisne.

Notes

(1) Here Saint-Just doesn't refer to Republic as a form of government, but uses the word as a substitute for nation/country. In 1790 France was a constitutional monarchy.

(2)Passive citizens were those who, for a variety of reasons (mostly tax related), were not allowed to vote. (3) The parts that are in bold, are underlined in the original . As usual, this is my own translation and you can surely find much better ones out there!

(4) Touchy subject...

(BONUS) The letter is Recto-Verso. The small red arrows in the image indicate where the back page starts. I edited the two sides in one image for ease of reading.

Source

I really like Saint-Just but his handwriting is just as bad as mine (yes. I can barely read mine either). The french text of the letter comes from:

Saint-Just, Louis Antoine Léon. Œuvres. Paris: Gallimard, 2014

[spade-riddles]

🎃 You didn’t think I’d forget to stop by on Halloween, did you? The entirety of the story I came to tell is within my previous 12 messages, but I suppose one more tale couldn’t hurt. Imagine this. The tornado begins with the smallest shift in the wind. The fashion line begins with a single stitch. The message in a bottle begins with a single letter scrawled desperately on parchment. The field of weeds begins with the smallest seed blown over the fence or sown in defense. The homestretch begins with what looks identical to all the steps taken before. But it is not as it has been before. And it is not what it ever will be again. No. The moment is new and sovereign and special. Pregnant with possibility. The glass overflowing all at once after a maddeningly constant drip, drip, drip. Just like that shift in the wind, just like that stitch, just like that parchment and just like that seed, I am not yet what I one day will be. And also, I am. Because I will one day be it. So on this night of All Hallows Eve, as the veil between this life and the next is thinner than ever, I whisper to you: The finish line is closer than it may appear. Transformation is imminent. Hold on to your blind faith a moment longer, now. And remember that reputation is illusion, expectation the magician. I hope you get more treats than tricks this year in your orange, pumpkin shaped pails. You are all truly dear to me. Goodbye, goodbye, goodbye. And also…hello! 🎃

[odinsblog]

“I think there is a simpler explanation to the tragedy and the barbarism on October the 7th, which is that you cannot indefinitely contain a group of people under military occupation for decades and expect that there won't be violence. There is violence in the Middle East, and the root cause of that violence is an illegal military occupation that is now in what, it's 57th year in the occupied West Bank and Gaza. And this is not just me saying this.

I mean, people like General Shlomo Brom, one of Israel's most famous military strategists, says, the oppressed will rise against the oppressor because it's absurd to hope that Israel can indefinitely contain with its military might millions of Palestinians who claim the right to a free, normal life. That is the statement of Shlomo Brom.

It's not true that the previous Gaza conflicts were all started by Hamas. Some were, but not all of them. Ceasefires have been broken on both sides and that's been well documented by multiple neutral observers and international observers.

But just on the broader point, Israel was never done with Gaza. This myth that they pulled out all the settlers and the occupation ended, first of all, under international law, Gaza is still occupied.

The Israelis control most of the land borders, all of the naval waters, all of the airspace. You tell me a country in the world that would accept that, any kind of country that you would call independent or sovereign. The Israelis even control the population register in Gaza, which means if you're born in Gaza, the Israelis are the ones who register you in control.

All of the information about your birth, life, and death. So this idea that Gaza was free, it was not free. And the boycott, the siege, I mean, it was not defensive.

Again, multiple human rights groups, including Israeli human rights groups like Gisha have said over the years, that the boycott was not defensive, that it was arbitrary, that it was cruel. Items like pasta, coriander, right? These are items that were banned at certain points going into Gaza.

Even now, David Miliband, the former British Foreign Minister, head of the International Rescue Committee, went on CNN this week to point out that dual-use items are being blocked going into Gaza. Entire aid trucks are being turned away because there's a scissors in them. A pair of scissors is inside a truck.

For medical purposes, the entire truck is turned away. For years now, the people in Gaza have been blockaded, besieged. The UN said it would be unlivable years ago.

We're now in 2024. It's certainly unlivable now. So no, I don't believe the Israeli narrative.

And one last thing, let's say everything Israel said was true. That still does not justify the collective punishment of 2.2 million people, half of whom are children, and who are now in the midst of one of the worst famines in living memory, according to the experts.

[…]

I've been very, very, very critical of Hamas. I've been critical of Hamas for decades. I've been critical of Hamas since October the 7th.

I was critical of Hamas on October the 7th. So no, I'm not sparing in my criticism of Hamas, but the missing context here, of course, is that we don't fund Hamas. I'm not responsible for Hamas.

I am responsible for the famine in Gaza. I am responsible for the killing of 30,000 people in Gaza because my taxes paid for it. The United States government is funding one side of this conflict.

The United States does not fund Hamas, last time I checked. So this idea that we are either fund them or protect them with a UN veto or arm Hamas, I don't think we send arms to Hamas, we do to Israel. Therefore, that is the focus of my journalism.

And by the way, yes, the focus of my journalism right now is on criticism of Israel because the rest of the US media has completely failed on this issue, has dropped the ball. I mean, I can go through The New York Times, The Washington Post, and show the exact opposite, pieces that are providing cover and safety for the Israeli narrative, including in absurd headlines where we go out of our way to use the passive voice and never cite that Israel is responsible for bombing a hospital or Israel is responsible for bombing a refugee camp. So I'm trying to do a little bit of correction on my end with this new media organization.

But look, Hamas is a brutal group. What it did on October the 7th was pure terror. They killed innocents, they abducted innocent babies as hostages into the war crime.

But none of that justifies what Israel is doing right now. And nor are we responsible for what Hamas is doing. But we are, in New York and across the country, sadly, we are responsible for the crimes that Israel is carrying out.

And that's the point I'm trying to make.”

—Mehdi Hasan