Tumgik
#he fought the god of fighting when he was 11 and won
karikarasuno · 5 months
Text
If There Really Is A God
ok hunger games au bc i've been thinking on it. this is for @t-tomuras selfship event
Tumblr media
Aizawa Shouta was bred for this. A career tribute from District 2. Trained to kill and not be killed. He was 15 when he fought in his hunger games. 15 and a victor. A silent killer. It was one of the quickest hunger games in history. 4 days.
He hated the games. Hated killing and hated watching it. But what choice did he really have?
You were a surprise. A district 11 tribute chosen to fight just two years after his games. No real will to fight or survive. But there was animosity and rage in your eyes when the camera panned over to you. He was mentoring another career tribute from his district that year. Only 17. Just like you.
While he was a ruthless fighter, you fought with mercy. Unwilling to kill unless absolutely necessary. He watched you mercy kill the young boy who accompanied you from district 11. He would've died anyway. Poisoned. But you spared him hours of pain and suffering. You offered him a quick death. And once he was gone, you cried over his body.
You had no intention of winning. You swore the game was rigged, anyway. So when you were the last one standing. The knife you clung to for days, now embedded in another tribute's chest. You wept when you won. Not in gratitude for your survival. Or in celebration of victory. But for the lives lost. None of them being yours.
Your words still rang in his head. "I don't want this. I never wanted this."
It wasn't until years later that he saw you again. You made the decision to be a mentor. You were jaded and guarded. Most everyone thought you were weak. But no one else saw the strength in your resilience.
It was rare that you ever spoke to each other. But one day, after both of you lost your mentees, a spark of friendship ignited. Reluctantly at first, until that reluctance turned into dependence. You had each other and only each other in this fucked up place.
He came to visit you in district 11 a few months before another reaping. He wanted out and he wanted you to come with him. He found you in a field. Surrounded by blooming flowers and tall stalks of grass. It was hotter in your district. No escape from the sun like he was used to. You stood with a basket in your hands and a scarf in your hair. And he realized then how much he truly missed you.
"What're you doing here, Shouta?" He was fond of the way you said his name. Soft and occasionally tender.
"Came to visit a friend." He offered in response.
"Does that friend happen to be me?" You teased, plucking a small flower from the ground and dropping it into your basket.
"Yes, actually." You smiled at his admittance. For how hard and distant you were when you first met, you were quite gentle and comforting. There was a lull in the conversation. Those happened frequently with you two, but neither of you ever really minded the silence. He took in the sight of the trees surrounding the open area. The heaviness of the woods in the distance. And he couldn't help but cringe at the sight. Nothing about it looking as peaceful as you seemed to be amidst it.
"Being here," he motioned to the forest in the short distance. "It isn't hard for you? Doesn't remind you of the arena we fought in?"
You shook your head, looking up at him from your place a few feet away. "I try not to fault nature for the atrocities of man. She simply exists. Like I desire to."
"You desire to exist?" He chuckled because it sounded absurd.
"No, I desire a simple existence. Big difference," you responded with amusement.
He shielded his eyes in that moment, the sun casting harsh rays over your body and you seemed almost heavenly. Like you shouldn't exist in this plane of existence, let alone simply.
"I don't think either of us were destined to live simple lives."
"Maybe one day." You shrugged, there wasn't hope in your response though. Just a dreaminess that he knew was just that. A dream.
"You're not mentoring this year." He found out from another mentor in district 2. A nasty man who spoke lowly of you. And it boiled his blood. An itchy sensation that told him to flee.
"No. I can't anymore. They're just kids," you replied solemnly, the sun shifting and casting you in shadows instead.
"You were just a kid. As was I," he said it plainly.
"But we're not kids anymore, Sho. We've become the ones who sentence them to death." Guilt. Survivor's guilt or not, rang through his chest.
He stepped toward you. Hand reaching out for your cheek as his eyes searched yours. There was a reflection of all the emotions he knew well. Exhaustion, resentment, and the faintest, tiniest glimmer of hope. Of the resilience he knew you possessed.
"Come with me, then," he whispered, face inches from yours and an urgency in his voice.
"I'm not going back to the Capitol. I can't go back there," you shook your head again, attempting to step away from him until his other hand came up to hold your face close to his.
"No." His hold tightened with desperation. "Not to the Capitol."
"Then where?" You were confused. You didn't understand.
"District 13." There was a sharp intake of breath from you, the basket in your hands dropping with a soft thud to the ground between your feet.
"That's not possible," you whispered with even more confusion. "It was destroyed decades ago."
"It's still there. They're still fighting. Come with me, ple-"
"But," you interrupted him, even though you had nothing to say. Shock still evident, especially in the way you gripped the sleeves of his shirt.
"It won't be simple," he affirmed, his forehead falling to yours. "But-"
"It'll be worth it."
41 notes · View notes
Text
Why are the Bishops and their robes so...messy?
I expect as much from the non-sentient creatures that populate their domains but not the leaders of an entire religious sect. It looks unbecoming. This could just be my human sensibilities showing though. This is a world of anthropomorphic(to an extend) animals with eldrich powers. Their standards of hygiene and cleanliness would differ greatly from ours.
But I then I noticed something. Narinder and his robes look almost pristine compared his siblings. No stains or frayed edges. He's not leaking black goop or drooling incessantly. His robes only get tattered and stained when he gets free and fights the lamb. Granted, Narinder IS trapped in one spot, unable to get messy. And is a cat, who are known for habit of cleaning themselves obsessively.
I want to speculate about this for a bit:
1)
11)
The bishops never really recovered mentally from their fight with Narinder. Their dialogue throughout the game makes it obvious. Most of their time and energy seems to go toward coping with what happened and stopping Narinder's attempts to get free. As godlike beings they don't appear to have the same physical needs as mortals so, they don't have a reason to stop and rest. The Bishops have visibly NOT been taking care of themselves.
111)
They wear these disheveled robes as a mark of pride. Of battles hard fought and won. The black goop could be ichor, blood of the gods. Their blood or Narinder's. This blood could mark them as true gods not just being with a lot of power. Maybe they wears these bloodied robes as a grim reminder of their altercation with Narinder. Interestingly, the more power cultist enforcers and mages also sport the drippy, black fashion statements. Maybe they are gods too. Lesser gods, but still gods...
Does anyone else have their own ideas as to why the Bishops look as disheveled as they do? I would love to hear them!
They're animals, sentient animals, but animals all the same. Different standards and expectations of appropriate appearance.
1v)
Who, in their right mind, is going to tell a god that they look a mess. I know I sure as hell wouldn't.
80 notes · View notes
scotianostra · 1 month
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
March 18th 1992 saw Pat Clinton become the sixth Scot to hold a world boxing title when he took the WBO flyweight Belt.
In an emotional evening in Glasgow's Kelvin Hall, Pat Clinton, made Dad Billy Clinton's dream come true for 12 months between when Pat outpointed defending WBO champion Isadore Perez from Mexico over 12 torrid rounds.
This famous ring victory prompted Clinton's manager and promoter, Tommy Gilmour, when asked post-fight if he would grant beaten Perez a rematch into the unforgettable reply: "No. The Mexicans didn't grant a rematch at the Alamo!"
Pat was born on April 4th 1964 at Croy, to Billy and Sadie.
Boxing was in his blood, his dad won the Scottish pro flyweight title in Perth in 1940, his uncle Jim fought and won two British A.B.A. boxing titles in 1944 and 1947.
Pat had aspirations to be a jockey but a fatal heart attack, which killed his dad Billy, in 1980, made Pat determined, instead, to realise his late dad's boxing dream of becoming a bona fide world boxing champion. In a 1990s interview Pat he said
"I owe my father Billy Clinton everything regarding boxing. He taught me everything - how to move, how to counterpunch, not to mix matters in the ring unless desperate, how to box for all my openings."
Pat was a member of Croy Miners Amateur Boxing Club. Clinton represented Britain as a Flyweight at the 1984 Olympic Games in Los Angeles, losing only to the eventual silver medallist. Clinton turned professional in 1985 and won his first 11 fights.
In February 1989, Clinton faced Eyüp Can for the vacant European title, losing a unanimous decision. He made successful defences of his British title against Danny Porter and David Afan Jones before getting a second shot at the European title in August 1990; Clinton took a majority decision against Salvatore Fanni in Cagliari to take the vacant European title.
And so to the Kelvin Hall on 18th March 1992, Pat recalls that he had little memory of the build up and entrance to the ring, saying
"When I was walking to the ring there was an incredible atmosphere and it hit me like a sucker punch, I don't remember Ronnie Browne of the Corries singing Flower of Scotland or the fight even starting. In fact, it felt like I was going through the motions to begin with. “ he added "It was only when he landed with a jab that I thought to myself, 'My God this has started, I better get my finger out.'
It wasn't easy that emotion-filled night in the Kelvin Hall. Bringing dreams to fruition never is. After the halfway stage, veteran of 57 bouts Perez forced Pat, who had suffered the old Jackie Paterson curse of weightmaking problems, to fight out of his skin. Helped by a picture of his dad Billy Clinton, which was shown between rounds in his ring corner, Pat battled to a points win after 12 rounds.
It was a world title victory that provoked such emotional scenes of post-fight joy that even today promoter and manager Tommy Gilmour claims that this Clinton world flyweight win is still his most cherished boxing memory.
Still, weight problems continued to dog Pat as they had dogged other Scottish flyweight greats. As a result, Pat looked very unimpressive in beating Englishman Danny Porter in a WBO title defence at Glasgow's SECC Arena on points over 12 rounds in September 1992 - a poor performance stressed by the fact that Clinton had already previously stopped Porter inside five rounds at Watford in a British title defence in October 1989.
Eight months later and Pat, still plagued by weight and hand injury problems, lost his title to South African Jake Matlala, with Pat being stopped in Glasgow inside eight rounds.
An ill-fated comeback at bantamweight eventually petered out but today Pat Clinton can look back with pride on a career that saw him win World, British, European and Scottish flyweight crowns as well as being the first Scot to win a European flyweight title in Italy…as well as fulfilling his father Billy's dream.
In his thirties, as a result of perforated eardrums suffered during his boxing career, Clinton suffered tinnitus and started to lose his hearing, and had to start wearing a hearing aid at the age of 33. He returned to his trade as a joiner before going on to work as a salesman for Scottish Gas.
7 notes · View notes
gavillain · 2 years
Note
I just saw your post on recommended Doctor Doom stories a while back and I will definitely read some of these in the future. Thank you. What Loki (Marvel) stories would you recommend?
I'm gonna try to do this in chronological order, but, as always with comics, read in whatever order you want. Comic continuity is very fluid that way.
Loki's initial appearances in Journey Into Mystery and Thor's self titled run are pretty good early comics stuff (and like with Doom, I recommend reading just any of them), but his first appearance is Journey Into Mystery #85, his backstory is in Journey Into Mystery #112, and the initial Destroyer arc is Journey Into Mystery #114 – 119.
He was also in Avengers #1 as the first villain they ever fought, and it's important context. He and Dormammu also are the main villains of the Avengers/Defenders war in Avengers #115 – 120 & Defenders #8 – 11. You get the direct follow up story for Loki in Thor #232 – 234.
I personally feel like Loki really came into his own when Walter Simonson came on board as the main Thor writer in Thor #337 (Loki is in Simonson's debut story in Thor #337 – 341, which introduces Beta Ray Bill). Everything Simonson writes for Loki is top tier, but in particular I recommend Thor #344 (Malekith's first appearance) and the iconic story of Loki turning Thor into a frog in Thor #363 – 366.
Avengers: Loki Unleashed is set during this time period. If you've ever wanted to see Loki fighting God, this is the issue to pick up XD
Marvel Fanfare #34 - #37 is one of my favorite Loki stories. It's very fairytale esque with Loki going full Maleficent mode over not being invited to a wedding and later straight up turning it a dragon. Very good standalone classic story.
Thor #400 has Loki's backstory with Eldred the sorcerer, showing how he learned his dark magic and came to be in the position he is today. It's short, but it's one of my favorites and the art is really cool.
Loki's the main villain of the Acts of Vengeance crossover event that encompasses a lot of different titles, though he mostly plays a behind the scenes role until Avengers West Coast #55.
Avengers: Heroes Reborn is a fun arc where Loki is the main villain. The art starts out terrible because it's Rob Liefeld, but Simonson comes on board for the back half so it's great classic Loki stuff that culminates in him growing giant and becoming all-powerful.
The 2004 Loki miniseries is really great and worth reading since t's basically a whole character study on Loki set after he's won the throne of Asgard. It was adapted into Thor & Loki: Blood Brothers motion comic that you can watch if you don't feel like reading. The 2010 Loki miniseries is pretty good too! I don't like it as much as the 2004 one, but it's a good take on the classic mythology stories. These two can be read at any time because they're disconnected from main continuity altogether.
Thor: Son of Asgard came out around this point, but it's set when Thor, Loki, Sif, and Balder are all kids. Loki is in Thor: Son of Asgard #1, 2, and 4 – 9. All of it is worth reading, but #7 - 9 is the best Loki content and shows him and Amora being sassy besties together XD
Thor vol.2 #68 – 79 is the Thor: Lord of Earth arc. Loki is in it as Thor's treacherous advisor figure. If you want some additional context, Thor vol.2 #55 and Thor vol.2 #64 both feature Loki as well and are worth reading.
Ragnarok happens in Thor vol.2 #80 - #85, but Loki himself is only in Thor vol.2 #80 – 81 and #84 – 85. Loki causes it, and it's a great big important moment in Thor history.
In general everything pertaining to Dark Reign and Siege is just GREAT Loki content. In particular, I've gotta give it up for Thor vol.3 #5 - #12 and then #601 up through the end of Siege. My favorite all time Loki issue is Siege: Loki. It has the best writing, the best characterization, and it's awesome!
I do NOT recommend reading anything set post-Siege with Loki because he gets resurrected and rebooted as a totally new character, and I don't feel like Marvel has generally done him justice since then. Spare yourself the trouble and just don't.
However, Marvel has an alternate future verse called the MC2, which is most famous for having Peter Parker's daughter becoming Spider-Girl. Loki is the main villain of the Last Hero Standing miniseries. It's worth checking out and is kind of a good "finale" arc for Loki.
10 notes · View notes
segemarldoodles · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media
Oct 11 - Fight
D&D story time. So back in high school my friends and I decided we wanted to play D&D, it was like 2010 ish so 4th edition was current, we all made characters, it's actually where I made sege, and we got together and after all the messing around that comes with meeting up for a first session of a ttrpg, we did a grand total of one round of combat before we had to all go home for the night. We then didn't play D&D for five or six years. Now when we were playing that new campaign, which my buddy @neutral-divinity was DMing, he brought back the characters from the first campaign as NPCs for us to meet and control for like two sessions while we were in a part of the real that had been taken over by a demon, and as part of his corruptive influence on the land, any magic cast in the area had a chance of going wild.
So both of my characters, Ryrin was a Cleric/Ranger multi-class and Sege was some kind of ranger/caster so it was kind of a big deal that my magic could just go wild.
So of coarse I cast a spell and it went wild.
I don't remember why I was even casting it, or if it was being cast because it went wild, but Sege ended up throwing a fireball at a huge crowd of enemies, that a few of the melee players were engaging with. So the spell goes flying, it has a huge radius, and we're worried that it's going to kill like three of the old campaign NPCs and like two of current PCs. I'm apologizing for my shitty rolls and then I failed another and the spell effect morphed.
Now instead of killing everyone in a fiery explosion, they had to pass a check or suffer petrification. Everyone important except the current PC monk, and the NPC paladin pass.
The worst part was if I'd had hit one space to left, unbeknownst to me, I would have accidentally turned the BBEG into a statue and ruined Aaron's campaign, but I digress.
We finish the fight and drag the statues back to the ship and cook up a cure for statueitis. Now when you recover from petrification you have to pass a check of you take damage. The NPC paladin rolls poorly and takes a few points of damage, but stoically shrugs it off and keeps his compsure, assuring both parties that hes fine. The PC Monk, who for the entire campaign up to this point has barely interacted with us, wouldn't tell anyone his name and had only had a conversation with a a single NCP in ancient Dwarvish because no one else spoke it, rolls a nat 20, and what does he do? He rolls a second dice for a performance check. A. Second. Fucking. Twenty. So he drops to the floor and starts screaming bloody murder, and starts demanding that Sege be killed for attacking everyone.
The Princess of the other kingdom, who was one of NPCs and was being controlled by one of the players wasn't going to just execute one of her soldiers, so the Monk convinced her to hold a trial by combat, If he won, Sege would have to be exiled at sea, and if he lost he would drop it. Now Sege was not a martial character and was missing an arm, so he couldn't really expect to win a fight against a monk, but thankfully the Paladin stepped up and agreed to fight in his stead.
So they cleared out an area on the deck of the ship and fought. And the Paladin lost.
And so they loaded my old character onto a row boat with two weeks worth of provision and cast him out into the middle of the the ocean, the closest shore being the living hell we'd left several days prior with the wind at our backs. So most likely he didn't make it, but we'll never know.
We unfortunately never finished that campaign either, Ryrin had just stolen a Pirate ship for himself and the Bard, who had the same player as the Paladin, had made a deal with some death god since we were about to go participate in a war, and there would plenty of souls for her.
5 notes · View notes
knightley--phillip · 2 years
Text
The Fall of Rome: A Battle of Fire and Family [Part One: The Blood You Owe]
Fool me once, fool me twice Are you death or paradise? Now you'll never see me cry
There's just no time to die
In which Phillip, Rose, and the rest of the defectors rally one last time... [takes place Aug. 11]
@thehuntress-rose @lou-bonfightme
[tw: violence, gore, fire, major character death]
PHILLIP: As a writer, Phillip appreciated the irony.
Here he was, standing in front of his family’s house, sword in his hand — just like he had done as a little boy. Except he wasn’t here to protect his family, to bring them glory or victory. He was here to end them, end their reign of terror, end everything that they stood for. 
Once upon a time, Phillip had been a little boy who loved his family and wanted to be a brave prince like the ones in stories.
Now, Phillip was a grown man, who still loved his family — he just knew that they were wrong now, and because he’d turned his back on everything they’d taught him, everything the Knightleys had known for generations and generations, they now hated him.
(Sometimes, at night, he could still hear the crack of Percival’s neck as Howl stood over his dead body; and when that became too much to bear, he remembered Percival raising a sword over his head, ready to kill him without a moment’s hesitation). 
Phillip looked at the dark stone walls of Thornwood Hall, at the dark clouds rolling in the distance, and he gripped his sword tighter. 
This was it. This was the end. Those who remained loyal to the Order hunkered down in the halls of Phillip’s childhood home. Maybe they used the grand piano as a barricade. Maybe they took the stacks of books Phil had left behind and burned them. Maybe they ransacked the artwork his mother had lovingly collected, claiming dibs on it for when they won this battle.
But they wouldn’t win. They couldn’t win. 
“Are you ready?” he said to Rose, who just so happened to be the person next to him. And for that, he was thankful — he didn’t know if his heart could bear it if he faced his brothers or his father with Tom or John at his side. 
He waited for the signal, before they were to storm into the house and put an end to this once and for all. 
ROSE: The question in Rose’s mind wasn’t if she was ready or not. It was if Phil could handle this, battling in his home, burning it down if it came to that. The people she fought with had all agreed the Order had to be felled like Titans, back to the pits of Tartarus. And they were the ill made gods that had to do it. Much like the pantheon, it all came down to fighting against their family, flesh and blood. Phil and the distance rumble of thunder brought Rose out of her thoughts. Maybe Zeus was on their side. 
“Are you?” Rose retorted, almost defensively. She was so used to Order men checking in on her as if she needed their coddling. “Sorry,” she softened, realizing Phil meant no disrespect. 
She took a breath and scanned the exterior of the manor. He grew up here. With his brothers and Rosie, a girl he’d only mentioned in passing. He’d said she reminded him of her once. And just like Rose’s grip on her sword, it was delicate. 
“Yeah… I’m ready. Just think,” she looked sincerely at Phil now, “it ends here. Whatever the cost, we’re ending it. We’re making a difference.” 
PHILLIP: “It ends here,” Phillip repeated. 
He did not have time to process the rest of what Rose said — the cost, the loss of his family, of everything he stood for, of everything he had known, the cost of it all. Thankfully, he did not have time to think about that, because John gave the signal and at once, they crept forward.
The Order was down to its last few good men, Phillip’s father among them. That is why they gathered here at Thornwood Hall, barricading themselves in its stone walls. And that was why Phillip and John and Thomas and the rest of their allies had to burn it all down. For it wasn’t just men that the Order hid away, but their titles and deeds and precious relics and weapons. It all needed to go down, every last bit of the Order’s legacy.
Phillip slipped past John, because he knew a way in the house that even his father did not, an old servants’ entrance nestled behind some rose bushes. Phillip used to use it to bring girls home. Now, he was leading a battalion to destroy his childhood home. 
If the Order had already spotted them, they were being quiet. Phillip ushered the others forward into the hallway, which led into the kitchens. Once they were in, it was time to split up and do what they came here to do. Everyone filed off — except for Rose. 
Phillip nodded at her. The lighter in his pocket — one that Howl had enchanted to burn an even stronger flame — felt like it was red hot. He reached for it and lit it, the flame catching onto nothingness, just as Howl had promised. Phillip couldn’t look at it for too long. The smell already made his throat close up. 
Instead, he gestured to Rose and the two of them made their way upstairs. Just as they reached the top step, an arrow whizzed past Phillip’s shoulder. 
“Is that the best you've got?” he sneered, raising his sword and standing in front of Rose. 
ROSE: The arrow clattered down the stairs behind them and Rose rolled her eyes dramatically, “I knew I should have brought my fucking bow.” 
She pulled her sword out of its sheath and held it aloft in front of her, careful not to swipe Phil with it. The white reflection of the clouded daylight against the steel shone across the stone walls. Rose scanned her environment with haste, the assailant was further down the hall, but there were too many rooms to search while being shot at. She counted at least four alcoved doorways. “You take that asshat, I’ll search the rooms?”
Rose moved from behind her partner and made for the closest alcove for cover. Another arrow bounced off the wall mere inches from her face. The blonde ducked and pressed herself against the door, fumbling for the handle while keeping her eyes up towards the enemy and Phil. When her hand found purchase, she turned the knob and nodded at Phil, pushing the door open with her backwards force. 
PHILLIP:
Y’know, when Belle and Hades made them sign that whole blood oath not to kill anyway, they really should’ve been more forward thinking when it came to their eventual plans to take down the Order. That was a joke. Phillip was coping. Besides, Phillip didn’t necessarily want to kill whoever it was shooting at him through a hallway — he just wanted to knock the bow out of their hands and then knock them in the head. 
Another arrow flew towards him, though this time it bounced off the metal plating of his shoulder with a thud. Phil groaned, but this was good — he could tell where the person was shooting from. It must be from the hallway above, probably that one corner with the marble statue. They probably did not have a great view of Phillip, which worked to his advantage. 
He slipped out of their vantage point, and then down the hallway, up the other set of stairs, so that he could creep behind the hooded figure and smash the back of their head with the butt of his sword.
“Don’t take it personally,” he said. “Hopefully the smoke will wake you up.”
And he jogged across the hallway to the other side, the golden-framed portraits of his ancestors glaring at him, before bending down and lighting the next flame.
It was quiet. Much quieter than he’d thought it would be. The Order was thin at this point, many members choosing to flee instead of stand with the last men. For the better, thought Phillip. He made his way back down to the second floor, looking for Rose.
“Rose,” he hissed, not wanting to alert any other lurkers in the shadows. “Where the hell are you?” 
ROSE: Rose cleared a few rooms in the time that Phil was gone. When she got to a new and unfamiliar corridor, she stilled. One of the doors was ajar and dust floated through the air in swirls of motion like it had just been rustled for the first time after years of sitting. She made for the door, quietly, keeping her sword drawn. 
The door creaked as she pressed it open wider, alerting the man inside. He was older with a neatly trimmed goatee, pristine armor, and a greatsword stuck into the floorboard in front of him. It was like he was waiting for someone while looking out the window onto the moors. He turned to look at her, frozen in the doorway, just a girl. 
Perhaps a ghost, as she looked like his daughter though much older than she ever became. It was fitting, the ghost of Rosie coming to haunt him in her childhood room. He supposed sentiment brought him there in the midst of a battle, yearning to see the view she loved so much one last time before the manor burnt to the ground. He raised an eyebrow at Rose, sneering down at her over his shoulder. “Did they send a little girl messenger to surrender in hopes I’d show mercy?” 
“Actually, they sent me to kick your ass.” 
He blinked in surprise, turning to give her his attention now. “A girl with a mouth and a sword. What kind of barbarians raised you?”
Rose entered the room fully, straightening her stance, spitting back a response, “A bunch of assholes like you, I’m assuming.”
Hubert Knightley plucked his sword from the ground. He towered over her and was corded with muscle under his armor, gilded with a crest of two horses and a rose. Rose recognized it as the Knightley sigil and realized who this man was but she wasn’t afraid. With a swell of courage, she rushed forward and stabbed at him. The Knightley patriarch easily swiped her jab away and laughed in her face. “Is this the best this pathetic rebellion has to offer? Some weak little girl to fight me? What’s your name, child?”
The Huntsgirl hissed, “Rose.” She knew there were psychic wounds reopening with her name. Phil hardly talked about her, if ever, but Tom had told her about the youngest Knightley. A brief thought was spared to Tom and Henry, she hoped they were doing well in their fights. Then, she took advantage of the momentary lapse in Hubert’s attention and lunged. Her sword clanked against his breastplate, leaving a deep scratch across the crest. 
He jumped back into action with a grunt, bringing his sword down narrowly missing the more mobile opponent. Her armor was light and minimal, but it protected her much less. Rose had to dance carefully. She brought her sword back up only to be thwarted again, his knocking hers down. “This is why the Order doesn’t bother training women. You say you’re here to fight me, but can barely keep your sword up!” 
Rose growled, throwing her weight into another swing. Swords clashed together repeatedly as she retorted, “I’m not a swordsman, you’re right. But you should see me with a bow. I put your son to shame.” 
The armored prince’s smirk dropped at the mention of Phillip. The fierceness he was holding back returned to his fighting. He seethed, “He is no son of mine.” 
The great sword swung and jabbed with purpose now. Rose was losing ground as Hubert stepped forward with each movement. It was all she could do to block and parry, she had no chance of winning this battle. Her calculating eyes gleamed with an uncharacteristic uncertainty, a fear, as the sword was knocked out of her hands. 
In a span of seconds, the sword clattered to the ground and the clink of metal scraping against metal filled the room. A sick, wet slice accompanied it as Hubert pulled the sword out of Rose’s belly. Her chainmail scraped against the blade and dyed red as her own blood spilled forth. She moved her hands to cup the wound, blood pooling in her palms. 
“Pathetic.” 
Rose looked up at Hubert with all her shock written on her face, still clutching her gut. Keeping one hand on her pouring wound, the huntress stumbled into the hall, dripping heavy trails of blood behind her. 
“Phil!” she screamed as loud as her lungs would let her. Rose used her red hand to steady herself as she traipsed through the hall, shrieking for help, for mercy. She didn’t want to die like this. She was so close to freedom, the door of the cage was open… she just had to fly through it. Rose slipped in the slickness of her own blood under her feet. But still, she crawled away from the skulking knight behind her. 
“Yes, Phillip, come save this little bird you’ve sent for me!” He called out, pompously challenging his heir. 
PHILLIP: 
Phillip heard his name and he ran. He ran as fast as he could in his bloody armor, as fast as he could while holding his sword. He heard his father’s booming voice soon after and that only made him grit his teeth and run faster. All that Order training was good for something, apparently. 
“Rose!” he cried out the moment he saw her stagger into the hallway and then fall to her knees. He lifted his eyes to find his father in the doorway, looming over Rose. And not just any doorway —
He knew this hallway. He knew the paintings on these walls. He knew the sconces and the drapery. He knew that this was Rosie’s room. His father had been hiding out in Rosie’s room, of all places. His father had stabbed Rose in this room. 
Phillip felt his blood broil over and he charged forward at his father.
He had sworn a blood oath not to kill, but as he lifted his sword, he thought that it might be worth it — how poetic, really, if he used his final breath to kill his father. Put an end to this vicious cycle and destroy the Knightley line in one go. 
He thought about it, too. He thought about it as his sword clashed against his father’s. As his father bared his teeth and spit in his face. 
But Rose was in the hallway. She wouldn’t last long without help. Rose needed him. Tom needed him. John needed him. Levi needed him. His mother needed him. Hell — Henry bloody Charming needed him. 
Phillip was more than just his father’s son. 
With a newfound passion, Phillip grunted and pushed forward, swinging his sword again. His father easily countered his blow and Phillip staggered backwards. Hubert wielded a two-handed great sword, and that combined with his strong figure and heavy armor meant that he was an impenetrable bastion. 
“This is a futile fight,” snarled his father. “You know I outmatch you. I have decades of experience. I know all your pathetic weaknesses.”
“Not all of them,” said Phillip. “I’ve picked up a few new ones.” 
They were evenly matched — Phillip’s agility making up for the fact he wasn’t as strong as Hubert. He was quicker and he managed to dodge a few of Hubert’s blows and sneak in a few of his own. But Phillip used this time to think. He couldn’t kill Hubert. He had to disarm him. He had to get away from him, had to neutralize the threat.
He glanced around Rosie’s room. His mother had kept it pristine and nearly shrinelike. Nothing had been touched since her death. Which meant that her tall and heavy bookshelf still stood at the entrance to her little reading nook, a narrower section of the room with a large window. And if Phillip could get his father there… 
Well, he’d just need to get the right angle.
With nimble footwork, he managed to get on the other side of his father. He used Hubert’s slowness to his advantage and in the time it took his father to turn around and raise his large, great sword, Phillip smashed his own sword into the side of a shelf. He used the blade to dislodge the books, so that they fell in between the two men, hitting the floor like heavy stones.
Hubert’s face turned from rage to confusion — then rage again. 
“What the devil are you doing, boy?” shouted Hubert. 
“Something-something the pen is mightier than the sword!” Phillip yelled and as his father stumbled over the books on the floor, Phillip shoved the full force of his body weight to the back of the shelf and it came crashing down. 
Hubert didn’t have time to move out of the way.
Now, to be fair, it didn’t hit him. It hit the wall parallel to it, creating a large, oak barricade between Phillip and his father. The shelf was just tall enough and the wall just far away enough from it and Hubert was just large enough that there was no way Hubert could step over it or crawl under it. There was now a large, rather immovable obstacle in front of him. Well, not totally immovable. Phillip knew his father would be able to push it eventually. But that just gave him enough time to dart to the other side of the room and reach for the magic lighter. He didn’t have time to say a prayer, to say sorry to Rosie’s spirit, wherever she was. He just let the flame catch onto the carpet and watched as it spread.
“You would do this?” Hubert cried. He pushed against the shelf, grunting as he began to move it out of the way. “You would do this to your sister?”
Phillip lifted his gaze up to his father. 
“She would want me to,” he spat. “If she knew what you really were —”
He didn’t let himself finish the sentence. The fire started to spread. Phillip felt the heat. Once again, he thought about staying behind. Making sure that this all finished. Making sure there were no loose ends.
It would be poetic. Ended in flames, in Rosie’s bedroom.
But no. Rose needed him. Tom needed him. John needed him. There were people who needed him.
“Get out before the flames get you,” said Phillip. “They spread fast.”
And without looking back, he sprinted out of the room. 
The great Knightley line would not end like this. Hubert swore it. Trapped by a damn bookshelf! Well, he wasn’t a foolish boy — he was a man, a Prince! He was in line to be King, once the Order dealt with this little skirmish. He’d rise up to the top. He was strong enough to push this shelf out of the way.
He began to cough.
He could see the flames on the other side. The smoke started to spread. 
He heaved his shoulder into the wood. The shelf didn’t budge. He raised his sword and started to chop at it. Brute force would work. He’d make this blasted slab of oak bend to his will! And he’d find that pathetic girl and kill her and make Phillip watch. 
HIs eyes started to water.
The shelf finally gave way, the wood splintering enough so that Hubert could shove through it. But he was met with red hot flames and a torrent of smoke. He coughed. He sputtered.
“Phillip!” he shouted. “BOY!” 
Everything was fire and smoke. The wallpaper in his daughter’s room had turned to ash. The curtains an inferno. 
“Rosie!” he cried out. “Rosie —”
His throat clogged up. He stumbled in the smoke, trying to feel along the wall and heaving his sword to get to the door. He assumed Phillip had been thorough and had closed the door and that he’d have to smash through it. And when he did, he’d make that boy pay — oh he wouldn’t just  kill him. He’d kill all his friends and save his pathetic excuse for a son, last.
His eyes stung from the smoke. But he could see the outline of something in the wall. With a grunt he smashed his heavily armored shoulder into it — glass shattered. 
Hubert fell.
You see, Phillip had actually left the door open. There had been no need to swing a sword at everything. But Hubert had done so anyway, because that was the way he’d been taught, the way he’d taught his sons. And because of that, instead of finding a door, he had, instead, fallen through the window.
— 
“Rose!” shouted Phillip. He skirted into the hallway and found her on the ground and without hesitation, he sheathed his sword and knelt at her side. “Oh my god —”
His head spun. He tried to remember his first aid — anything, anything at all. Keep pressure on the wound. He knew that. Rose was already doing that, but her grip was weak. Her face was pale. So pale. There was so much blood. So, so much blood. 
Phillip pressed his hands over hers.
“You’re going to be alright, Rose, you hear me?” Phillip said. “You’re not fucking dying on me now, okay? You’re tougher than that, yeah?” Tears stung at his eyes, but he shook his head and cleared his throat so that he could yell louder. “John! Tom! Someone help!” 
TOULOUSE:
This whole thing was bloody ridiculous, if you asked Toulouse. Which no one had, of course. No one ever did. He wanted the Order destroyed but this was messy and unpredictable. Battle was not the place that Lou should be. He didn’t have the stomach for violence. His vengeance was poison. Slow to take effect, but deadly. By the time one realized they had been poisoned, it was usually too late to reverse it. His was not an anger of fire and blood. 
Yet, he had come because San could not turn and Merida was grieving her father. (Why one would grieve such a man was beyond him but he digressed.) They needed magic on their side. They needed the wolf, his teeth and claws. 
Lou obliged, though he was not happy about it. He stayed on the sidelines, watching and waiting for if he needed to step in but Thomas seemed to have things handled. Lou did not like the man, if one recalled he had jerked around his sister, tried to kill his partner, and was a general nuisance. But watching him now the bumbling idiot that had broken his sister’s heart had melted into a capable warrior whose movements were so fluid, it looked as if he was dancing. It had been fascinating to watch from behind the wolf’s eyes. 
But now, as they rounded the corner and came upon the girl who had been stabbed, he was back to being useless. 
The wolf’s ears had twitched, nose full of blood and smoke, when they spotted the girl. He had waited, just a moment, to see if anyone would move to help and when they did not, he sprang into action. 
All at once the wolf was a man once more, pushing Phil’s shoulder back from where he was crouched over her so that he could look at the wound. 
“Let go of her,” he told Phil. “We need to lie her down.” The fire was crackling in his ears, a nearby threat, but he had to stabilize her before they moved her. His hand touched the inside of her wrist, which was cold and clammy. 
“I need cloth. Blankets. Towels. And water if possible,” he commanded calmly, peeling the fabric of her shirt back. The blood was still pooling in the wound. He pressed his hand firmly over it and with his other, he searched along the inside of her thigh until he found the artery, pinching the pressure point. 
“Knightley, hold her legs up above her heart. And I need you to hold where I am holding.” Lou took his hand, jerking it forward and showing him the correct spot. By then, Tom had come back with the towels. 
“You need to leave. We will be behind you but there is nothing for it. Go. Get the boy out of here,” Lou commanded. “Once you’re outside call 999. I don’t give a fuck about your Order secrecy; she needs a hospital.”
Tom hesitated, but like a good soldier, nodded and moved to grab Henry by the collar, yanking him down the hallway. 
Lou folded one of the wet washcloths and pressed it to the wound, another he lay gently over Rose’s face. The last thing he needed was to stop the bleeding only for her to die of smoke inhalation. He fumbled with one of the towels, wrapping it around Rose’s torso and tying it as tightly as he could. It took several more minutes, each second agonizingly slow. Then; he got his arms under her and lifted her up. 
“Keep her legs elevated. We have to get her out of here.” Moving her at the moment was not ideal. Without pressure on the wound, she was more likely to bleed out. However, they were all going to burn alive if they stayed. 
ROSE: While Phil crossed over her to put his father to rest, Rose kept crawling away. She didn’t know where she was crawling to yet, but somewhere more peaceful to die. She could taste the iron of her blood as she desperately pulled herself across the floor, her strength dwindling. Each shaky hand grab moving her less and less. And then Phil was at her side, and she thought maybe this was as good a place as any. Rose rolled over, and her muscles tensed, tightening around a phantom blade. 
“I’m fine,” she didn’t know why she said that as she lay bleeding in the hall. This was a mortal wound and she knew it. Phil knew it. What was the purpose in lying? Whose feelings was she saving in doing so? Who was she comforting by not screaming as the pain licked up her torso? By not complaining about how cold it was in this castle? She was raised as a soldier, and they did not scream or cry in the face of death. So she bit back the urge to kick and scream as men tried to handle her. 
She gritted her teeth and hissed in pain when he applied pressure to her gut. And then the wolf came along and started barking orders, assessing her state like it mattered. Wasn’t he with Tom and Henry? Where were they? She hoped they were doing better than her.
Rose blinked out tears slowly, she hadn’t realized she’d been crying as Toulouse and Phil worried over her. She yelped when the towel was yanked tighter around her waist. “Fuck!”
She’d been injured enough to know this was all they could do in the field. Though she’d always escaped with only the need for a few stitches, maybe a concussion or two. Never a sword straight through her. It was getting harder to focus, her blood was oozing slower, her eyes wanted to stay closed. But before she gave into that ghostly call, Rose clutched Phil’s hand weakly. “I’m sorry… about your dad… I don’t think I could have done it. Can you promise me something?”
She swallowed the crimson ichor that nearly leaked from her lips, “Promise me you’ll look after Henry. I know he fucked up, but he’s lost everything too… and if I,” die, “If I’m gone, I don’t know who he’ll have left…” 
Within the few minutes after, Rose faded out of consciousness. Her body barely keeping her anchored to this side of existence as it is carried out of the burning castle. 
PHILLIP:
He smelled the smoke and his eyes stung. Rose’s face was pale. With her eyes closed, she looked almost like — 
No. Phillip would not think of the past. Phillip would not think of the past, because it was burning down around him, quite literally. This was Rose, not Rosie. Rose who was using her last words to tell Phillip to look after Henry, which was a thought so ridiculous, he almost laughed. He instead coughed a little.
“You’ll look after him yourself, Rose,” said Phillip, though he knew that she couldn’t hear him. 
Phillip looked at the naked Lou in front of him and nodded. He knew enough first aid to know that they shouldn’t move her, not with this deep wound and the dark red blood spilling to the floor. But the smell of smoke was too strong to ignore and he could already feel the heat. Together, they managed to lift Rose and as best as they could, they made their way out of the hallway and down the stairs.
Phillip kept looking over at Rose. He kept hoping to see her eyelids flutter or her hand twitch or her chest raise — something, anything that would indicate she was alive.
But it was hard to tell with the smoke and the flames and the own erratic beating of his heart. 
Finally, they got outside. And just in time, too. The fire started to spread, consuming the walls of Phillip’s family home. He looked frantically around, but saw that Tom and Henry, John and Jane, and the rest of everyone were already out on the lawn, scattering to the winds. For the better, Phillip knew. 
It was just him. Well, just him and Rose and Lou. He heard sirens in the distance as he stumbled out of the house. His legs began to tremble in sheer exhaustion, the adrenaline rush wearing off. He took a gasping, shaking breath, his lung stinging from the smoke.
The sirens grew louder. 
It passed in a blur. Phillip somehow managed to get Rose to the medics. He wasn’t sure if he said anything about what had happened. He was shaking too much, his chest tight. They sat him in the back of the ambulance and gave him an oxygen mask, draping a heavy blanket over his shoulders.
His eyes stung. From the smoke. From tears. 
There were more sirens. More trucks rushing in. The fire raged on. The ambulance started to drive away, Phillip and Rose in the back of it. 
It might be poetic, Phillip thought, to look out through the window the flames. To watch his family’s legacy go up in smoke; he, the one who struck the final match.
But Phillip didn’t want to look back. Instead, he looked at Rose. He took her hand in his. He did not look back. 
The hallowed halls of Thornwood Hall crumbled to the inferno. The firefighters cried out, unable to fight back the flames, but curiously the moment the building fell, the flames pittered out, as if by magic. The carcass of the building remained, charred and black. In the breeze, a tattered and burnt tapestry fluttered, bearing what little remained of the Knightley family crest, the words valiant and true lost to the fire. 
2 notes · View notes
steveezekiel · 9 months
Text
ANOINTING ATTRACTS OPPOSITION 1
14. David continued to succeed in everything he did, FOR THE LORD WAS WITH HIM.
15. When Saul recognized this, HE BECAME EVEN MORE AFRAID OF HIM."
1 Samuel 18:14,15 (NLT)
Tumblr media
• The more God loves you, the more the devil hated you.
- Favour is a sign of God's presence in your life. God presence in David's life was the reason for his success. And that provokes envy.
- Your success is a threat to some people. Saul was threatened by David's successes: "When Saul recognized this [David's successes], he became even more afraid of him" (1 Samuel 18:15 NLT).
- The devil would want to stir some people against a believer who is succeeding or making progress in whatever he or she is assigned to do. However, If God is on your side, no persecution or affliction can abort God's purpose in your life.
THE main issue is, strive and endeavour to keep robustly your fellowship or communion with God.
• The presence of God in your life causes the devil to get jitters.
WHEN Saul realizes there is an anointing of God on David, he was afraid of him.
- Every battle encounters by you, prepares you better for the throne.
YOU may have to be taken through challenges that are necessary for your rulership—the work God wants you to do and the place He is taking you.
- What you pass through would shape and mould you. Your mind would be sharpened and your thoughts would be made focus on God. Also, you will have approved character (Romans 5:3,4).
- When it becomes a known fact that the presence of God is in your life. The devil, the Believer's enemy, would want to come around to test and challenge you:
"Be sober-minded; BE WATCHFUL. YOUR ADVERSARY THE DEVIL PROWLS AROUND LIKE A ROARING LION, SEEKING SOMEONE TO DEVOUR" (1 Peter 5:8 ESV).
READ: Job 1:9-12
- If you do not want challenges, attack of the wicked people, do NOT bother to desire or ask for the power of God. The presence of God unleashes power, and the power of God in your life attracts the devil and his Loyalists to try you.
- Be ready and prepare for challenges as the presence and power of God increase in your life.
• What are the mark or signs of God's presence and power.
- There is this mark, sign, or Aura on you that makes demons and those who belong to the devil recognize you.
- When those who operate with demonic power sighted you, they either run or attempt to attack you.
- There is a covering, protection, or an hedge made around you as a Believer (Job 1:9-12); But then, God may allow tests and challenges for you to be strengthened and equipped spiritually (2 Corinthians 12:9,10).
- Through the attacks from the kingdom of darkness, you learn about spiritual warfare (Judges 3:1,2).
- Samuel had anointed David for some time, but it was not made known or manifest to the people—the whole Nation of Israel (1 Samuel 16:13).
- David uses the anointing on him to kill a Lion and a Bear in the forest (1 Samuel 17:34,35), but no one knew he had the anointing of God on him: "So the child GREW AND BECAME STRONG IN SPIRIT, AND WAS IN THE DESERTS TILL THE DAY OF HIS MANIFESTATION TO ISRAEL" (Luke 1:80 NKJV).
THE anointing on him became known when he killed Goliath and won some other subsequent battles (1 Samuel 17:48-51).
- King Saul became David's enemy when he discovered the anointing on him, that God's presence was with him (1 Samuel 18:14,15).
• The truth is, God's anointing on you will attract opposition.
- Expect confrontation from the old prophets who may not want you to rise (1 Kings 13:11-24).
- It is not everyone who comes to you for help as a believer or Minister actually loves you or wishes you well (Micah 6:5,6).
- Some who are singing your Praises will later be the ones looking for your downfall. The same people who sang Praises of JESUS, shouting Hosanna, also shouted that He should be crucified (Matthew 21:8,9; 27:22,23).
- To become a general in God's army, you must have fought and won series of battles.
- In every battle you learn new things. David did fight physical battles, But the believers in the new testament fight spiritual battles.
- Believers wrestle with the power of darkness. Believers have the devil, the world, and the flesh to wrestle with:
"FOR WE DO NOT WRESTLE AGAINST FLESH AND BLOOD [human beings], but against principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the darkness of this age, against spiritual hosts of wickedness in the heavenly places" (Ephesians 6:12 NKJV).
• NOTE: The devil is the believers' archenemy, humans are not our enemy (Revelation 12:9,10). However, the devil would not operate without the assistance of human beings.
THE demons are disembodied spirits, they cannot operate on earth without a physical body, either of human beings or that of animals: "FOR WE ARE NOT FIGHTING AGAINST PEOPLE MADE OF FLESH AND BLOOD, BUT AGAINST PERSONS WITHOUT BODIES—THE EVIL RULERS OF THE UNSEEN WORLD, those mighty satanic beings and great evil princes of darkness WHO RULE THIS WORLD [2 Corinthians 4:4]; and against huge numbers of WICKED SPIRITS IN THE SPIRIT WORLD" (Ephesians 6:12 Living Bible).
* The Bible teaches us to love our enemies and pray for them, but does not teach us to love the demons (Matthew 5:44).
* If someone is operating with a demonic power, you would not say you love the person and not deal with the demon that operates through the person. Especially if the person is using the evil power against the person of you and what you are asked to do—your assignment (Acts 13:8-11; 16:16-18).
* If someone with demonic power is attacking you, you deal with the demon that is operating through the person. You bind the demon and tell him to desist from his Operation (Mark 16:17; Luke 8:29; Acts 16:16,17).
* You decree that the demon(s) behind the affliction, or whatever the problem, will not prosper in his manoeuvres.
- That said, Sin would be the undoing of a believer or any Minister, thus, avoid Sin in your life that you may not be a casualty in the hand of the enemy (Acts 19:14-16).
• You will not fail in Jesus' name.
Peace!
TO BE CONTINUED
Tumblr media
0 notes
godsbutterfly · 2 years
Text
“For we do not wrestle against flesh and blood, but against the rulers, against the authorities, against the cosmic powers over this present darkness, against the spiritual forces of evil in the heavenly places. (Ephesians 6:12)
Daniel faced tremendous political pressure from the members of the king’s court. Brought to Babylon at a young age, this Jewish exile earned the reputation of a man filled with “light and understanding and excellent wisdom” (Daniel 5:14). Unfortunately, Daniel lived and worked among jealous people who wanted to see him fail, though he did nothing to deserve their ill-will. He wasn’t looking for a battle; the battle came looking for him.
Joseph faced a similar battle, not with outside political enemies, but among his own family. Though he was promised in a dream that he would one day be a ruler, the dream was crushed when his brothers sold him into slavery (Genesis 37). Despite being an honorable man, Joseph was mistreated and falsely imprisoned. His battle was a battle of betrayal and family strife. Like Daniel, Joseph’s battle was won because he trusted the Lord to fulfill his promises.
Battles come in many forms. In the Bible, we have accounts of personal crises like Joseph’s family conflict, Hannah’s barrenness (1 Samuel 1), and Hezekiah’s illness (2 Kings 20). We also have accounts of national catastrophe like warfare, famine, and exile.
We face similar battles. We may experience seasons where enemies surround us, illness overtakes us, or conflict overwhelms us. In each of those cases, we can choose to fight the wrong battles, or like Daniel and Joseph, we can rest knowing God is fighting for us.
The Wrong Battles
I can easily get caught up fighting the wrong battles, especially when dealing with young adults. Traveling overseas sometimes brings out the worst in students, and I was bracing myself for a difficult and confrontational conversation with one particularly disruptive student. When I finally met with her, I started our meeting with a simple question: “Is there anything going on?” Secretly, I was loading my guns to hit her with my expectations, when her response took me by surprise. “I am SO homesick!” she blurted. Her eyes filled with tears as she confessed how much she hated being away from home. Everyone told her that traveling would be fun, but she was miserable.
I had no idea. I interpreted her behavior one way, and I came ready for a fight. I discovered the battle was something else entirely.
The night that Jesus was betrayed, Peter fought the wrong battle too.
Then Simon Peter, having a sword, drew it and struck the high priest’s servant and cut off his right ear. (The servant’s name was Malchus.) So Jesus said to Peter, “Put your sword into its sheath; shall I not drink the cup that the Father has given me?” (John 18:10-11)
Peter thought the fight was about Jesus’ betrayal and physical safety. Jesus, however, knew that the battle was for our souls, and he understood that fighting the wrong battle meant forfeiting the real one.
The Real Battle
Ephesians 6:12 reminds us that “we do not wrestle against flesh and blood.” In other words, the fight is not against governments or people or companies or circumstances. The real battle—the unseen battle—is our struggle in prayer:
For the souls of unbelievers
For forgiveness when we’ve been wronged
For peace in fearful circumstances
For holiness when sin tempts
For joy when sorrow comes
For trust when doubts assail
We battle for the hearts of those around us as we fight for them in prayer, and we battle for ourselves as we bring opinions and arguments in line with the knowledge of God.
For though we walk in the flesh, we are not waging war according to the flesh. For the weapons of our warfare are not of the flesh but have divine power to destroy strongholds. We destroy arguments and every lofty opinion raised against the knowledge of God, and take every thought captive to obey Christ. (2 Corinthians 10:3-5)
Paul fought the battle for “arguments and theories and reasonings” (2 Corinthians 10:5, AMP) as he prayed for and encouraged the churches in Colossae and Laodicea:
For I want you to know how great a struggle I have for you and for those at Laodicea and for all who have not seen me face to face, that their hearts may be encouraged, being knit together in love, to reach all the riches of full assurance of understanding and the knowledge of God’s mystery, which is Christ, in whom are hidden all the treasures of wisdom and knowledge. I say this in order that no one may delude you with plausible arguments. (Colossians 2:1-4)
Winning the battle leads to a heart filled with encouragement, close relationships with other believers, and the ability to understand truth. Like Paul, we struggle for others in the unseen world.
God Fights For You
We do not fight alone. We face physical struggles that threaten our homes, families, savings, our country, and more. And the unseen battle fought by the “spiritual forces of evil” is far bigger than the visible battle.
God is fighting for us, just as he did for Daniel and Joseph. The encouragement Moses shared with the Israelites can encourage us today:
And Moses said to the people, “Fear not, stand firm, and see the salvation of the Lord, which he will work for you today. For the Egyptians whom you see today, you shall never see again. The Lord will fight for you, and you have only to be silent.” (Exodus 14:13-14)
Daniel was able to calmly enter the lion’s den because he understood that no crisis would come near him that had not already passed by his God. Joseph was able to endure battle after unfair battle because he saw that though man intended evil, “God meant it for good” (Genesis 50:20).
The same God who fought for them fights for us. Christ fought the ultimate battle when he suffered and died for our sins.
But he was pierced for our transgressions; he was crushed for our iniquities; upon him was the chastisement that brought us peace, and with his wounds we are healed. (Isaiah 53:5)
Christ fought for us on the cross, and he won. His death and resurrection paid the price for our sins, and because of his wounds, we are healed. He continues to fight for us today. In our physical struggles and in the unseen world of arguments and ideas, we can answer with Romans 8:31, “What then shall we say to these things? If God is for us, who can be against us?”
-Source. By Nivine Richie.
Tumblr media
0 notes
ilyjohnb · 3 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
a/n: I decided to try my hand at a 3+1. I also started posting these on my AO3. FYI, JJ is not abused in this one and it does not follow any of the plot from the show.   **gif credit to @ptersparkers**
requester: anon “hiii!! :) could you do “Can I stay here tonight?” with john b please? :)”
summary: to simply put it, your home life sucks. you had managed to hide it from the pogues, until one night when things got really bad and you needed to stay the night at john b’s.
warnings: abuse, child abuse, swearing, slut-shaming
word count: 1997
Tumblr media
~~ONE~~
John B was the first one to realize that something wasn’t right with you and your home life. You were all 10, and it was lunchtime. You were all sitting down at the table. John B was on your left. Pope, Kie, and JJ were on the other side in that order. 
“I hate school. This place sucks ass.” JJ laughed.
Kie smiled. “At least the food is good.”
“Just barely though!” Pope shouted, making the other four laugh.
“I like school.” You mumbled and slightly frowned. You subconsciously rubbed the bruise on your left forearm that your mom gave you the previous night because you forgot to take the trash out. School was the only place where you didn’t have to worry if your mother was going to be drunk or high out of her mind, and it was the only time where you didn’t have to cook for yourself either.
John B heard you though, and he noticed the bruise when your sleeve moved up from you rubbing your arm. He could see it clear as day, on your forearm there was a nasty purple bruise the size of your hand that wrapped around all the way.
You didn’t notice John B staring, but you did notice the bruise peeking out. You quickly slid your sleeve back down and focused on your mashed potatoes.
~~TWO~~
He never confronted you about that time, he didn’t even know how he would start. He eventually began picking up on your signs that you were nervous. He may not be as smart as Pope, but John B was far from dumb. He noticed how you would tense at even the mention of your mom or home. His next major clue was when you all were 15. 
“Hello, Y/n.”
You nervously took a breath, trying to read the situation. “Hi, mom.”
“Guess what you didn’t do? You left here for two days and didn’t even clean the dishes before you left.”
As she stepped closer to you, you could smell the alcohol. “I’m so sorry, I’ll get started right away.”
“Punishment first, girl.”
“Mom, please. I’m sorry it was an accident and it won’t happen again.”
She just smiled evilly. “Nothing to do now or take it. You get it now, or it doubles.”
Your hand began to shake. “Yes, ma’am.”
She walked over and punched you right in the stomach. Your eyes squeezed shut, and you bit on your lip so you could hold in your whimper. She kicked you this time and shoved you to the floor. She punched you one last time in the eye before grabbing you by your hair, using her knee to hold down your right arm.
“Open your eyes. Now, do you remember what you said earlier?”
You nodded, before opening your mouth to speak, a hoarse whisper came out that you barely even recognized to be your voice. “It won’t happen again.”
After that, you washed the dishes, before going to bed. You waited until she left the next morning to sneak out. You had promised the Pogues a day on the boat. It would be John B’s first time to drive it without his dad, Big John, there too. You quickly looked at yourself in the mirror. 
A big bruise was prominent on your stomach, another on your eye, and one more on your forearm. You put on the one two-piece bathing suit that you owned with a huge oversized shirt over that. You tied your bandana on your arm to hide that bruise. For your eye, you’d just have to come up with some lie.
You didn’t live that far from JB, so you took a nice walk. It was nice until you got to John B’s. You walked in the door, expecting to see all of your best friends, but the only person was Big John. He was sitting on the chair, so he saw you walk in.
“Y/n! How are you doing?” You loved John B’s dad. He reminded you a lot of Heyward, Pope’s dad. They both adored you, and you and your friends treated them as if they were all your dads.
“I’m doing pretty good.” You smiled, lying.
“Oh yeah?” You nodded. “Then what happened to your eye.”
“You know me, I got into a fight. Where's everyone at?”
“They’re in the boat, waiting for you. See you all when you get back. And for the love of God, don’t let my son kill you all.”
“Yes sir!” You laughed and went out the back door. You quickly stuck your head back in. “See you Pops!”
You started running down the dock, smiling at your friends. “Is that a wild Y/n/n I see?”
“Yes, it is, JJ. I’m a wild spirit who refuses to be tamed.”
He smiled back at you, holding out his hand to help you in the boat. You saw his eyes flick up to your bruised one. He didn’t ask any questions. You went and sat down as John B steered you all into swimmable waters. He put out the anchor, and then everyone didn’t hesitate to throw their shirts off and jump in. All except you and John B.
“Not getting in, Y/n/n?”
“Not feeling it today. You’re not getting in?”
“I went surfing this morning, so I’m a little sore. What happened to your eye?”
“Fight with a kook.”
You looked down at your bandana and noticed that it was becoming loose. You waited until you were certain he looked away before taking it off and refolding it. You were in your own world, trying to match the folds up exactly. He looked over and saw the bruise. He was almost certain that he knew what was happening to you. He thought it was what happened to you at home, but a fight with a kook was extremely possible too. He looked away quickly and didn’t mention it.
~~THREE~~
By this time, he knew. He may not have gotten confirmation with you, but John Booker Routledge knew that his best friend was getting abused by her mom. He knew he’d have to confront you eventually. He wanted to help you get out of that situation.
This time happened six weeks later. He dropped you off at your door with the promise that he’d walk with you in the morning, to take you for breakfast.
“See you in the morning John B.” You don’t know what came over you, but you leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. You turned and walked in your front door before he could see the small blush that was creeping up your cheeks.
“So now you’re a slut? Makes sense I only see you hanging out with those three boys. Didn’t I raise you better, Y/n?”
“I’m sorry?” You asked, genuinely confused. Wrong move on your part.
“I think you heard me loud and clear. I saw you kissing that boy, you slut.”
“Mom, no. I swear it was just a friendship thing.” You lied, you did have a crush on John B but your mom didn’t need to know that.
She had enough, shoving you back into the wall. You don’t know what came over you, but you did it. You finally did it. For once in your life, you fought back. You kicked out your leg, knocking her down. She reached over and hit you in the eye, grabbing at your neck. She began to try to choke you, but you brought your leg up to kick her square in the chest. She let you go, the wind knocked out of her.
You took the opportunity and ran. You put your hood up and kept your head down. You didn’t even have to look up, it was like muscle memory at this point. You walked around the house to his window, before knocking.
“Y/n?”
“Hi John B.” You weakly smiled, urgency evident in your voice. “Can I stay here tonight?”
“Yeah of course Y/n/n, come on in.”
He helped you in his window before quietly tiptoeing out of his room. You awkwardly sat down on his bed, and he soon came back with a bag of ice.
“For your eye.” you almost forgot. “I know what happened.”
“Yeah, kooks are vicious at night and-”
“Y/n,” He cut you off. “Stop lying. I dropped you off at your house at 11:30, and you don’t typically go out after that. At least not by yourself. I know you. Just let me help you, me and dad can help get you away from your mom.” He pleaded.
“I came here to stay the night, not be met with false accusations.”
“Are they really false though?” He asked.
You sat there, opening your mouth in search of an answer. He had that look on his face, the same one he made when he won. You didn’t want him to win, at least no right now. You stood up and walked towards the window. Tears were gathering in your eyes. You quickly choked out and answer. 
“I’m going to stay at JJ’s. Good night John B. Thank you for the bag of ice.”
He didn’t know why he let you go, but he felt horrible. He was so close to getting the truth out of you, but he was worried if he kept pressing he’d scare you away. He decided he’d wait extra time before asking you again.
~~ + ONE~~
You had finally decided that you had enough. You didn’t want to deal with your mom anymore. 12 years. That’s how long your mother used you as a punching bag. It started after your dad left when you were 4, and you were 16 now. You had waited until your mom drank until she blacked out before you tossed as much stuff that you could into your duffle bag, packing more in your backpack. You tied the laces of your one pair of sneakers together and threw them over your head. You slipped on your flip-flops and left, with your head held high and not looking back.
You texted John B, asking if you could come over. It was 2 am but you were ready to go. As if he could read your mind, John B said you could. You ran faster than you’d ever had. When you got there John B sat with his window open, waiting for you. He took your bag and helped you in the window. You slipped the shoes off your neck and sat down on his window sill.
“You were right.” You told him.
He was holding your face in his, searching for injuries. “About what, bubba?”
“My mom and my home life. How long have you known?”
“I first noticed when we were 10. We were at lunch, you said that you liked school after we were all complaining about it, you had rubbed your arm and your sleeve rolled up and I saw a bruise. Why did you never say anything before? I could’ve helped you get out of there so much sooner.”
You sighed. “I knew it was bad, but I was embarrassed. Do you remember that one day on the boat like a year ago? When I wouldn’t go swimming? It was because my mom beat the absolute shit out of me the night before. And then there was that day I asked to stay the night, I was all sweaty from running and my eye was bruised. It was from my mom, but that was the first day I fought back. I left tonight because of you. Thank you John B.”
You were both staring into each other’s eyes, and he slowly leaned in. You leaned in too, to speed it up. And you kissed. You eventually told the other pogues, your mom got arrested, and you and JB started dating. You finally got out of the home all thanks to John B.
218 notes · View notes
rivers-rambles21 · 3 years
Text
The one where Bucky comes home
Part 13 of The one where Bucky has a cute neigbour series!
Pairing: Bucky Barnes X Reader (f)
Summary | Reader and Bucky become friends after he saves her from  a creep in their apartment building. Each chapter explores a different point in their friendship - very slow burn!
Warnings | 18+ only !!Smut!!!
Chapter 13 | Chapter 12 | Chapter 11 | Chapter 10 | Chapter 9 | Chapter 8 | Chapter 7 | Chapter 6 | Chapter 5 | Chapter 4 | Chapter 3 | Chapter 2 | Chapter 1 | Masterlist
I’ll be continuing this fic for a few more chapters before starting on my Mafia/Mob Enemies to Lovers Bucky X Reader fic! Thank you for all the notes :) x
Everyone you knew had seen the video of John Walker killing an unarmed man in Latvia. It shook you to your core as you recalled your brief meeting with the former soldier outside the police precinct and wondered just how fucked up the mission had gone for him to commit such a crime. You'd caught a brief glance of Bucky and Sam in the video you had watched and had been worried they were somehow involved in the altercation but those concerns were swiftly shut down when you got a text from Bucky letting you know they were okay and he was returning to Brooklyn. 
You'd not spoken to one another on the phone since your last call and hadn't really texted either apart from his brief text so you had no real idea of when his flight would be arriving. 
After a quick visit to the grocery store you made it back to your apartment with the intention of cooking a meal ready for when Bucky would arrive home. You let yourself in, not having locked the door on the way out, knowing you wouldn’t be gone for long. Throwing your purse on the side table, you began unpacking your items, humming to yourself as you did. 
“Hi doll” You screamed in shock, your hand going to your chest as you spun on the spot, dropping the apples you were holding. 
“BU-! You almost gave me a heart attack!!” Your heart practically beat out of your chest as adrenaline ran through your veins; your voice shrieking with the shock. 
He smirked at you as he leant against the couch arm, his jacket discarded and arms bare as they stretched across his chest.
“C’mere” Opening his arms he flashed you his boyish smile, laying on the full Bucky charm as he did. 
Without hesitation you ran towards him and leapt into his arms, not thinking twice as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his neck with joy. 
You remained like this for a few moments, both wrapped up in each other as Bucky held you close to his chest. He enjoyed the feeling of you pressing up against him before you slowly pulled back from him, faces impossibly close as your eyes dropped down to his lips, just as he did the same. 
Neither of you could say who moved first but within a second your lips were upon one another, desperately fighting for dominance over the other. Bucky won as his right hand found the back of your neck, holding you against him as his other hand grasped the back of your shirt, resting just above your ass. 
You kept your arms wrapped around his neck as the kiss deepened, both caught up in the moment and intensity. 
A moment of realisation suddenly hit Bucky and his soft lips left yours, a gasp escaping your mouth. His eyes sought yours, as his hand moved from your neck to your cheek, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. “Doll” His lips quirked into a small smile as his eyes bored into yours. “You have no idea how long I’ve been waiting to do that” 
“Oh I have an idea” You murmured back, your eyes setting back on his lips before kissing him again. Your fingers threaded into his hair, pulling on it slightly which earnt you a groan from the soldier. The sound dampened your already wet panties, your cunt throbbing with need as you started to guide you both towards your bedroom. 
Bucky’s lips moved from yours and started trailing kisses along your jaw before reaching your neck, greedily nipping and sucking as he did. 
“Bedroom” You gasped as he bit on a particularly sensitive area, fingers finding his hair again as you tugged at it desperately. Your other hand snuck down to his jeans and pulled at his belt, urging him into the direction of your room. You felt your legs hit the back of your bed before you fell backwards, pulling Bucky on top of you. 
His lips left your neck as he rested his weight on his metal arm, hovering above you as his crotched pressed against your clothed core. His bulge felt heavy as you anticipated what laid beneath, your cunt throbbing with need. 
Your hands made quick work of his belt before your fingers descended on his jeans, fiddling with the buttons. 
“Hold on a second doll… I want to take my time with you.” He whispered, kissing your nose as he did. Moving back onto his knees he glanced down at you, eyes raking your body before slowly sliding his hands up your waist and grasping your tshirt; guiding it up your stomach. His head bent down as his lips descended once again on your bare skin, his lips dragging up your torso as he eventually reached your bra. “I’m sorry” he grunted as you raised your head, wondering what on earth he was talking about before you heard a rip as your shirt was pulled apart along with your bra. Your breasts sprung free and Bucky delved in like a man possessed as his tongue flicked your left nipple, his right hand pulling on the other.
“Oh god” you panted, your fingers tugging on his hair, pressing him against your chest as your pussy throbbed. 
Bucky was in heaven, with every suck and flick he earnt a moan from you beneath him. His cock somehow grew even harder with each noise that left your sweet lips. Despite wanting nothing more than to sink into your wet cunt and pound you into oblivion he wanted to pull an orgasm from you before giving into his desires. Settling for thrusting his groin against the bed he squeezed your breasts before moving his lips further down your body, eager to have a taste of your sweet nectar. 
“Bucky - you- you- you don’t have to” Your fingers tugged on his hair, trying to lift his head away from your body.
His head suddenly shot up, his eyes reaching yours as he raised an eyebrow, almost mockingly before popping the button on your jeans. He hastily pulled them off your legs, throwing them over his shoulder. Yanking your legs, he pulled you towards the edge of the bed as he knelt down, tugging them over his shoulders. “Fuck doll, you’re soaked.” His thumb brushed over your damp panties, teasing your core with every gentle stroke. His eyes were transfixed on your clothed cunt, his tongue licking his lower lip in anticipation.
“Bucky please” you whined, desperate for some friction. 
Feeling generous, Bucky complied with your wish and gave your panties the same courtesy he gave your top before throwing them over his shoulder to join your jeans. 
“Bucky!” You protested, leaning up on your elbows to shoot him a glare. However, every thought suddenly left your mind as he licked a stripe from your dripping hole to your clit. 
Your hips thrusted upwards as he began his assault on your soaked pussy, alternating between dipping his tongue into your aching hole and flicking and sucking on your clit. You threw your head back as pure bliss overcame you, your back arching as your cunt fluttered around nothing.
 Bucky’s metal hand suddenly pressed down on your stomach to keep you in place, the cool metal providing some form of relief as he continued his ministrations on your core, pulling moan after moan from you. 
“I need-I-I-” You panted as you tried to keep control of your legs which had started to clamp around his neck.
“I know doll, I know” He cooed as he thrusted a finger inside your cunt, almost cumming in his pants as he felt your soaked walls flutter around it; sucking it in further. 
“Oh fuck” You panted, grabbing hold of your own breasts, pulling and plucking on your nipples to help pull you over the edge sooner. 
“Ah ah ah” He tutted as he swatted your hands away. “Eyes on me” 
You were too blissed out as your eyes were screwed shut, overcome by the feeling of Bucky's finger stroking your walls to hear what he said. 
A light slap to your thigh and a curl of his finger caused your eyes to shoot open before his lips descended on yours, his tongue pushing into your mouth as you tasted yourself on him. A second finger slipped inside as his lips left yours, curling against your most sensitive spot. 
“Eyes on me” His voice came out rough as he fought down the urge to thrust harder against the bed, seeking friction. 
You nodded your head, unable to form a single word as another sinful moan left your lips, only growing in volume as he returned his mouth to your dripping core; your eyes never leaving his piercing blue ones. Your first orgasm was nearing fast as you felt your coil tighten, your legs shaking uncontrollably. 
“Come for me doll” He mumbled against your clit before sucking hard and pumping his fingers into you, almost erratically. 
Your body did as commanded and you tingled all the way from your head to your toes as your orgasm overcame you. You rode wave after wave as Bucky continued thrusting his fingers, gently slowing down as he carried you through your high. Your eyes had closed on instinct but Bucky didn’t mind, he was utterly transfixed with how wrecked you looked. He wanted to make you this way time and time again. He was a man obsessed. 
“Fuck” You muttered as you felt your soul return to your body, your legs going limp. 
You opened your eyes just in time to watch as Bucky slipped his fingers out from you and popped them into his mouth, licking your juices clean. It was the single most erotic thing you’d ever witnessed. Heat flooded your chest as you squirmed on the bed, eager for further relief. 
“You did so well doll” He praised as he slowly crawled his way back up your body, rolling your nipple between his fingers as he did, his eyes transfixed on your chest. 
Taking advantage of the distraction, your legs circled his waist and you pushed your body weight to the side, rolling him onto his back with your soaked cunt pressed against his jean clad crotch. 
“Off” You ordered, tugging on his shirt before returning back to his jeans, pulling them down his strong legs along with his boxers as Bucky removed his top. 
You gulped as you took in the sight of his engorged cock, the head dark and angry, precome leaking down it. 
Sensing your nervousness Bucky sat upright, his feet planted on the floor as he sat on the edge of your bed; pulling you close to his chest. Your legs slotted either side of his as his hands caressed your thighs, slowly making their way up to your ass, squeezing your cheeks as they did.
“We don’t have to” He murmured, nuzzling his face into your neck, kissing every inch he could get his lips on. 
“I want to” You gasped in response, your head tilting back to give him more access as he made his way down your chest. “It’s just been a while” 
“I’ll be gentle” He had every intention, he really did but when you lifted your hips and slowly sank down his length, your tight cunt squeezing and sucking him in, he nearly lost it. 
“Y/n” he groaned, sweat forming on his brow as he used every ounce of will power he had not to thrust up into you. 
A whimper left your lips as you finally took his entire length, his cock bottoming out deep within you. The pain was undeniable, although he’d gotten you as ready as you could’ve been, the stretch wasn’t something his fingers could prepare you for. You felt as though you were being split open as you took inch after inch of him. 
But, the pain soon dissolved and turned into pleasure as you felt an uncontrollable need to move - to feel the drag of his thick cock rub against your velvet walls, hitting the spot you’d been able to reach only a handful of times before. 
Slowly, you lifted your body, gasping as you felt his cock twitch inside of you; never before had you felt so full. “Bucky!” Your fingers threaded through his dark locks, pulling tightly as you sunk back down, the pain that was there before suddenly gone and replaced with wave after wave of bliss. 
“Doll” He choked, his fingers digging into your ass as he remained still beneath you. Unwilling to move until you’d given him the all clear. God, it had been so long since he’d felt a woman wrapped around him, but he was positive no one had ever felt as good as you did.
“Please, please!” You begged, not quite sure what you were asking for as you continued to bounce on his cock. Taking charge Bucky’s metal hand moved from your ass and gripped your chin as he pulled your face towards his. Lips smashed together as his tongue invaded your mouth, pulling yet another moan from you. 
His hips started to lift, meeting you thrust for thrust as his flesh hand cradled your back, keeping you close to his chest. 
Your lips left his to catch your breath just as his cock dragged along a particularly sensitive spot. A high pitched moan left your lips before you began chanting his name, his fingers having found your bud between your legs, the coldness of the metal adding to the intensity. 
Bucky’s grunts beneath you only brought you closer and closer to the edge once again, his brows furrowed as his eyes flitted between your face, chest and where you were both joined. 
“Come for me pretty girl” He breathed, his hips rutting against you harder than before, the sinful sound of your bodies slapping together filling the room as your juices dripped down his cock. 
A yelp left your lips as stars erupted behind your eyes, your soul nearly left your body as Bucky fucked you through the aftershocks, speeding up as he felt his release near the instant your juices drowned his cock. 
He couldn’t hold back any more and his thrusts became erratic before he groaned upon release, his hot cum squirting up into you, coating your insides. 
It took a few moments for both of you to catch your breaths, your chests crushed together as you came back to earth. His cock softening inside you brought you back to reality and your legs suddenly became very uncomfortable in their position, aching from riding the man beneath you. 
Sensing your discomfort, Bucky tucked his hands beneath your thighs and gently lifted you off him before turning you on your side, propping you up on his lap. 
The evidence of your activities made itself known as it trickled out of you and onto his thighs. The realisation suddenly dawning on Bucky. “Shit Y/n, I didn’t think” he panicked, his hands clawing at his hair as his mind ran a thousand miles per hour. 
He’d certainly thought about what a future with you would look like, how you’d look carrying his children, mothering your offspring and a selfish part of him wanted his seed to take. 
However, he knew it was wrong, something this huge should’ve been a joint decision, but he’d been too caught up in the moment, too wrapped up in the feeling of being wanted by you.
“Hey, hey” you cooed as you gently stroked his cheek, thumb rubbing over his stubble. “It’s okay, I’m on the pill. As adorable as it would be, there won’t be any mini Bucky’s running around causing chaos any time soon” You tried your best to reassure him and peppered his nose and cheeks with light kisses as you did. “I’ll be right back.”
On unsteady legs, you rose from his lap and headed into the bathroom. After relieving yourself you took a moment to stare back at your reflection. You truly looked a mess, your hair was sticking up in all sorts of directions and your neck was littered with light bruises from where Bucky’s lips had assaulted your skin. A giggle left your lips as you left the room, high on the happiness that bubbled in your chest.
Tag list: @iamtheonewhocares @indigo123789 @xpurpleglitter
It’s been a while since I’ve written smut so any feedback would be greatly appreciated!
66 notes · View notes
ibis-gt · 3 years
Text
moooore boxer au, directly following my little drabble from last night. there's good reason boxer cam and boxer laz haven't fought before, cos 6'8 heavyweight cam and 5'6 welterweight laz aren't even close to the same weight class, but laz is confident-leaning-to-arrogant enough that he thinks he can land some solid hits and dodge enough of cam's to at least not suffer a knockout loss in this supposedly-friendly spar.
he is wrong. 3600 words. warnings for a little blood and violence, disclaimer that i literally only know boxing from anime and webcomics so some of this is gonna be Incorrect Terminology
~~~
Laz and Sal step into the gym's arena and see Cam chatting animatedly with a short, curly-haired guy. Cam glances over his shoulder when he hears the door open and somehow lights up even brighter. He waves and calls out to them, then plants a hand on the turnbuckle and vaults over the top rope, easily swinging his 300-some pound bulk in a graceful arc clear. 
Laz's throat tightens and his already racing heart starts working overtime. This guy shouldn't be anywhere near as nimble as all that. He's an aging slugger whose most famous matches involved him sitting still and tanking hits.
He's just showing off, Laz reassures himself. It's an intimidation tactic. Let's see him three rounds into the match when I've given him a couple straights.
"Hey, great to see you!" Cam's voice booms out as he crosses the gym floor. "I'm so glad you took my offer. I've been watching you pretty closely as of late - you've got real skill! But I just had to find out how you are firsthand." He extends his hand for a shake, then pauses as he sees Laz already has his gloves on. Cam laughs, a short, booming sound that seems to shake the room. "Okay, down to business already, huh? That's fine! Let me get changed and I'll join you." 
He settles for slapping Laz on the back, which nearly knocks him over, and offering Sal a fistbump, which Sal returns shakily. Cam ambles off towards a changing room. As he passes by the mat, he holds up a hand, and the curly-haired guy tosses his gloves at him, which he catches deftly. Then he stops on his heel and whirls around, clapping a hand to his forehead.
"Oh! How rude of me. You probably don't know Luther, he's my boyfriend and occasional second.'' 
Luther waves. "That's me! Nice to meet you." Laz nods, and Sal waves back. 
"Lazarus...'' Sal begins, but Laz cuts him off. 
"Don't worry so much. Just a friendly fight, right? That means he'll take it easy, and I'll knock his head off while his guard is down.'' 
Sal can't help but laugh, a high-pitched, almost frantic giggle that explodes out of him without warning. Laz is always so keyed up, like he turned the dial to 11 and snapped it off. He's deadly serious of course, but he’s not bothered by Sal's laughter. He starts to bounce on his toes, swaying side to side a little, then takes a swift step to the left, back to the right, circles an invisible opponent, and - onetwothree, quick jabs in succession that trail down his phantom foe's body, no doubt leaving them stunned.
Cam comes back out of the changing room, now outfitted in a pair of black shorts and classic red gloves. He smacks them against each other a few times and beams at Laz.
They climb up into the ring together. Sal hovers behind one corner, while Luther calls out from the other side.
“We’re goin’ three rounds, one minute between each! Standard ten count, three downs in one round is a TKO. Keep it clean, fellas! And go!” He dings the bell to start the round and leans on the turnbuckle, watching intently.
Laz moves side to side, keeping his eyes on Cam. The larger man has a gentle smile on his face. Well, he’d soon wipe that clear. Laz just needs to wait for an opportunity and slip inside his guard. They’d see how that legendary endurance stacked up against Laz’s counter.
Cam moves forward and closes the distance, leading with a jab. It’s almost offensively lazy, clearly just testing Laz’s reflexes. He dodges around it and lets out a huff. I’m not going in on something that obvious, he thinks to himself. Give me something real, old man, this isn’t kindergarten.
Cam grins as though he can hear Laz’s thoughts. He lets loose with a quick combo, faster than Laz would have expected from a slugger his size. Laz dances around the first hit, blocks the second, and steps in under the third, landing a hit on Cam’s stomach. It’s his first sign that he might be in over his head. It’s like punching a concrete wall. That layer of fat must hide a solid slab of muscle. Cam barely moves, even though Laz put most of his weight behind the blow. Laz dances back out of his reach as quickly as he can, narrowly avoiding a right hook. 
Okay, okay, okay. Your opponent’s bigger and stronger than you, he’s got the longer reach, and he can take what you’re throwing at him. Stay on the defensive, don’t let him get you riled up. Laz tosses his head to get his hair out of his face - how many times had Sal urged him to wear a headband? Well, too late now - and starts circling, trying to get a better angle. Cam turns with him. That smile from earlier has settled in and kicked its feet up now. It’s going to take some doing to wipe it off his face. Laz can feel his temper start to rise. It’s something he’s struggled with his whole life - he just gets so angry sometimes. He’s usually able to channel it into something productive, cool anger instead of burning rage, but something in Cam’s demeanor is starting to set him off. Cam’s guard isn’t fully up. It’s like he’s taunting Laz - you’re so small, your reach is so short, I bet you can’t even hit me up here. Try it. Laz slows his breathing and focuses on Cam’s hands instead of his face. Try and knock his head off and you’ll only prove him right. You’ve got to keep it together now and explode later when it won’t get you clobbered. 
Cam comes at him with a few more jabs, putting on some pressure. Laz slips them each in turn, backing up and watching him whiff. He’s starting to catch on to Cam’s rhythm. It’s pretty simple - two jabs with the left, one with the right. Two left, one right. Two left, one right. Laz is trying to keep the ring in mind and not let himself get backed into a corner, and that’s why Cam’s sudden change in rhythm takes him by surprise. One left, and suddenly a right that catches him just as he’s shifting to anticipate the second left. He blocks it - he’s no rookie, he knows to keep his guard up - but it shudders through his body like a cymbal crash. Jesus - if I'd taken that straight on - but there’s no time to think about the hypotheticals. He’s stuttered in his movements and Cam is closing in on the opening, backing him up against the ropes. Laz ducks left, right, blocks another hit that makes his arms ring with pain, and then ducks right under Cam’s arm and spins around him, dancing away with quick hops. By the time Cam’s turned to face him, Laz is bouncing in the middle of the ring again.
“Good!” Cam calls out, and Laz wants to hit him so bad he could scream. “You’re slippery as all hell. That little trick’s won me a match or two, y’know.”
Laz grits his teeth and resumes his defensive stance.
“More of the strong silent type, huh?” Cam says conversationally. “I like a little chatter myself. Good to touch base every now and then. Anyway!” He makes a sudden lunge forward, winding up for a devastating straight. Laz sees his opening and takes it.
He slips under Cam’s punch, using his short stature to his advantage. Just inside Cam’s guard, he crouches low and explodes upwards, slamming an uppercut into Cam’s chin. Cam stumbles back, head tilted to the ceiling. Laz closes on the opening, landing blow after blow now that his guard is down. He’s about to go for a straight when Cam’s head snaps back up along with his hands. Laz doesn’t have time to slip or dodge, he’s already committed to the punch, and time seems to crawl to a halt as Cam’s right glove speeds towards his face. Red fills his vision and he has time to think: ah, fuck.
He gets up. He does not start swinging just yet, opting to hang back a moment and take stock. Cam looks a little ruffled, a few hairs loose from his immaculate bun, some red marks on his body that will no doubt bloom into bruises later on. He shifts his jaw from side to side and licks his lip, which has split open, letting a trickle of blood down his chin. Laz is much worse for wear in their exchange. Sweat drips down his forehead and nose, and his cheek is throbbing with pain.
Lazarus has been punched in the face many times before; getting your nose broken in practice a few times is how you learn to block your head. Cam’s right couner feels like all those nose-breaking punches joined together Voltron-style to fuck his specific shit up. It connects with his left cheek and eye, which almost immediately begin to swell. Laz staggers backwards, head reeling, trying to keep lucid enough to avoid a follow-up. Cam hangs back and watches, which is almost worse for Laz’s pride than if he’d kept trying to beat Laz into the mat. Cam is breathing hard, though, and clearly he felt some of those blows. Laz leans against the ropes and tries to see through the haze of pain that’s settled over his vision. His head feels like it’s been encased in concrete. God dammit, push through, he growls in his head. You’re not made of glass. Get up and get swinging. Show him why he should take you seriously.
The bell dings. Round one is over.
Cam grins and heads to his corner, where Luther is waiting to give him a kiss and fret over his injuries. Laz slumps back against the ropes again, letting out a heavy sigh. He trudges to his corner, where Sal is biting his thumbnail down to a stub.
“Well, how’m I doing?” Laz asks.
“I’m surprised you’re still standing!” Sal quavers. “It looked like he was going to smash you into dust! I mean, did you see that counter? I could hear the impact from here! And the way you fell back, I thought for sure you were going to hit the canvas. Lazarus, you’ve got to play this safe!”
“Encouraging as always,” Laz grumbles. “I’m not doing that bad, c’mon. He’s only landed the one hit. Y’know, if you don’t count the ones I blocked.”
“Sorry, I just - you know you have the Leeroy match coming up, and he’s no pushover. It’s really important if you’re trying for a shot at the title, and I can’t have you getting injured here. But you’re doing really well at slipping his jabs and you’re clearly the faster and more maneuverable fighter. You just need to know when to quit. I could see him recovering from a mile away, and his core’s really strong. Those gut punches aren’t going to do much good unless you can land a hit on his solar plex, that’ll take anyone out of commission for a moment. The punch to his chin was good, keep an eye out for his slower swings and try to slip inside his guard a few more times. You’re not going to win this by knockout, probably not even by downs, but you can give him something to think about at least.” The longer Sal talked, the calmer he got. The gears had started spinning in his head, grinding the raw anxiety into the grist of innovation. “Frankly, I don’t think you can win this fight,” he said, voice steady and sure now. “I mean, you’re simply outclassed in weight. Best you can do is stall it out and go for a tie. Just as long as you don’t go down, you’ll be fine.”
Laz tilted his head to one side, thinking it over. “Not too optimistic, there.”
“It’s just a friendly,” Sal said weakly. “And he’s several weight classes above you. Don’t take it too seriously? Please?”
“Fine,” Laz sighs, conceding at last. But you mark my words, I’m gonna give him at least one more hit that cleans his clock. He smiles too much.”
“This is exactly what got you in trouble in the Miyata match,” Sal groans.
“No it’s not! It’s nothing like that! And anyway, I’m still proud of that match, I don’t know what you’re talking about, ‘trouble’,” Laz lied. “Look, one more good hit. That’s my goal for this round, and then I back off and play defense til the bell rings.”
Sal doesn’t look convinced, but their minute to talk shop is up. The bell rings for round two, and Cam strides forward, smacking his gloves together with a loud thwack. Laz rises to meet him, jaw set. One more good hit. He’ll wait as long as it takes. That anger is back but it’s cold now, no longer the bubbling cauldron in his gut, rather a cool composure settling over his mind. His objective is clear, his goal is right in front of him, and he’s got all the patience in the world.
That is, he had all the patience in the world, right up to the point when Cam winks at him.
What the fuck is that supposed to mean? Winking? Winking?! Who does he think he is? Who does he think I am? Well, he’ll be winking permanently when I drill him in the eye so hard it closes up for good.
Cam actually laughs as Laz lunges forward, sharp jabs bouncing off of Cam’s raised gloves. But it’s the laughter that clues Laz in. Cam is toying with him, of course he is. He can’t take the bait, he’ll only play right into Cam’s hands. He has to relax. The angry boil is reduced to a simmer as Laz’s calmer analytic mind takes over. He’s no fool and he won’t rise to the bait. He backs off again, dancing out of range. Come and get me, big guy, he thinks, and when your sloppy footwork betrays you, I’ll nail you between the eyes. 
Cam advances, not willing to let him out of range. He seems a little more cautious now, though - he won’t forget that uppercut in a hurry. They trade careful jabs, each blocking or ducking the other’s strikes, and for a moment it seems like they’re both playing it safe. Then Cam goes for a sneaky gut shot that Laz deflects, and Laz slips in under Cam’s guard and lands another shot on his chin. He slips back out as quick as he can, not wanting to get caught committing again, and Cam presses, shaking his head sharply to clear it. Laz notes with satisfaction that Cam is no longer smiling. He doesn’t look upset, though, merely focused. Good. Take me seriously.
Cam starts up his rhythm again. He’s been pressing a little more aggressively than Laz had expected all match. It makes some sense - a swarmer is a good counter to Laz’s more careful fighting style, and having to fend off constant attacks doesn’t leave him much room for mistakes. But Cam is a slugger, used to ending fights quickly with a few punches, and the strain of keeping up this offense is starting to show. He’s just a little slower, and the blows that land are just a little lighter. A bubble of excitement rises in his gut. If Cam keeps trying to overwhelm him, he could potentially wear him down and win this. He’d agreed to stall, but… 
There it is. Just for a moment, Cam’s guard goes down. Laz steps in and drives a straight right at his nose, but Cam gets a hand up and it glances off. Laz bounces back, dodging a wild swipe, and goes for a body shot while Cam’s still in the followthrough. It lands, and Cam grunts. Laz is starting to sport a grin of his own. Finally, a sound out of the big guy that isn’t snark. He skips forward, aiming jabs at Cam’s head. The relentless pace is really taking the wind out of Cam’s sails; he eats punch after punch before he’s finally able to get his hands up and defend again. He staggers back in a defensive position, and Laz presses hard. He’s not about to let Cam get a second to breathe, if he can keep the pressure on and land some good hits he could actually win -
Too late, he realizes Cam’s game. It happens again. He commits to a straight, just in time to see Cam’s right coming for him. He gets his hit in first, the advantage of his proximity and speed closing the gap before Cam can, but a split second later Cam’s glove knocks into his chin enough to lift him off his feet. He feels one brief moment of weightlessness before he sinks into darkness.
~~~
“Ten!” someone shouts.
“Whuh,” Laz says, opening his eyes. For some reason, he’s lying down. And his face hurts really bad. Then it all comes flooding back and he sits up, his vision blacking out in protest. “Fuck.”
“Oooh, just missed the count!” Cam says, walking over and holding out a hand. “Good show, though. For a zippy little pipsqueak, you sure can throw a punch! I was seein' stars for a minute there. How’s your jaw?”
“Fuckin’ hurts,” Laz says. “How’s your ribs?”
“Fuckin’ hurt!” Cam laughs. “C’mon, let’s get some ice on that and talk shop.” Laz takes his hand and tries to pull himself upright, but his legs don’t want to take his weight. Cam takes notice and kneels down, getting Laz’s arm around his shoulder.
“Up we get,” he grunts, straightening up. Then he looks down and sees Laz’s feet dangling a good six inches off the ground and bursts out laughing. “You really are tiny,” he guffaws. “Why the hell’d you agree to fight me?”
“Why the hell’d you offer?” Laz grumbles.
“Well, to tell you the truth,” Cam says, walking the two of them towards the corner, where Luther and Sal have stepped onto the mat. “I hate retirement. I miss the ring. I wanna get back into the game somehow, so I figured I’d see how the up-and-coming competitors are doing. And frankly, kid, you’re not half bad.” He unslings Laz’s arm from his shoulders and guides him over to the little chair set up against the turnbuckle. Sal holds a bag of ice to the swelling on his eye and cheek. Cam sighs as though admitting defeat. “So fine, I’ll do it. I’ll train you.”
Sal and Laz gape at him for a moment. Luther clasps his hands to his chest and sighs dreamily.
“I already have a trainer,” Laz sputters. “And there’s nothing I want to learn from you. No offense or anything, but look, you’re not - “
“You’re in shock,” Cam said, nodding solemnly. “I get it. It’s fine, take a few minutes to really let it sink in. Cam Mersharc, five time world champion, agreeing to train you, I mean, it would throw anyone for a loop.”
“Listen, you deluded old man,” Laz starts to growl, but Sal puts a hand on his shoulder.
“What we mean to say is, of course we’re flattered and thrilled by the offer, but there’s a contract, you see, so it’s really legally out of our hands…”
“Oh, sure, no problem. Luther, honey, you still friends with that lawyer?”
“Sure am,” Luther chirps. “I’ll give her a call, schedule a chat, we’ll have you out of that in no time.”
Sal glances at Laz and shrugs. “Could be useful just to see what he has to offer..?”
Laz scowls and glares up at Cam. “Okay, old man, what’re you thinking?”
“Obviously your footwork’s impeccable and your speed is top notch. You’ve got a brain in there, too, I could see it working the whole time. Your strength is okay for someone your size, and your endurance could use some work. You train with me, I’m gonna round you out. Technically and physically,” he says, playfully tapping Laz’s chest. “Put some meat on those bones, tighten your core, bulk up those arms. Don’t give me that look, you won’t move out of your weight class. Just a little extra padding so when someone gives you one of these - “ His fist stops a half inch from plowing right through Laz’s gut. He’d barely seen Cam’s arm move - had he been holding back in the fight? Or was that head injury messing with his vision? “ - you don’t fold like an omelette. Whaddya say?”
Laz weighs his options. It never hurt to round out a little. It almost sounds like Cam’s offering to shift him towards being a boxer-puncher instead of an out fighter.
“Well… can’t hurt. But if I think you’re full of shit, I’ll tell you to your face. Don’t expect me to start fawning and kissing the ground you walk on just ‘cause you beat me.”
Cam laughs and slaps Laz on the back, nearly knocking him to the mat again.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, pipsqueak! Now, get down and give me twenty.”
“What? Now? I still have my gloves on.”
“Sorry, was I not clear? On the mat. Twenty push-ups. If you’re doing them wrong, I’ll make your friend sit on your back. Go.”
Laz drops to the mat, cursing up a storm. Cam nods as he watches him bob up and down.
“Oh, yes. This is going to be the start of something wonderful.”
20 notes · View notes
fandomsnfluff · 3 years
Note
Scenario 11 with sentence starter 5, with MC/reader and literally anyone you want I just think this is cute ~
no problem anon!! i chose mc and levi bc our otaku boyo needs more tickles 🥺
Tumblr media
tickle prompts/scenarios
5: “Keep your arms up!” 11: tickle games
◦◦,`°.✽✦✽.◦.✽✦✽.°`,◦◦
"Levi! Can I show you this really cool game that I made up?”
You burst into the third-born’s room rather unprompted, and he nearly jumped out of his gaming chair, turning around to meet your gaze with an annoyed glare.
“Does it have to be now?” he sighed. “I was about to start the boss for this set of levels.”
“Well, it seems like I came at a good time!”
He truly didn’t seem amused with you right now. But you giggled, continuing.
“It may seem a bit strange at first,” you introduced. “But at the same time, it can be a fun and easy way to bond with your friends and family. Which is why I made this!”
You held out your hand to show him a nine-sided cube that you called a die, and one that you folded yourself. Now he seemed interested; he reached forward to grab it and inspect it for himself. “Did you fold this yourself?”
“Yep! Asmo helped me.”
“Huh...” Levi turned the dye around in his hands a few times. As he observed what was in his hands, he started to frown, looking genuinely confused, before turning to you. “Why are there body parts written on all the sides?”
“That’s where the nature of the game comes in! The reason it’s a bonding exercise slash game slash whatever you want to call it is because you have to tickle the person in the spot on the dye that’s facing up after rolling it.”
Levi’s eyes widened, and you could have sworn you saw him flinch at the idea of the game involving tickling. You remembered Mammon telling you about how ticklish his younger brother was, and one evening, when you both were feeling particularly sneaky, decided to gang up on the poor otaku and tickle him until he cried. That’s when you discovered how ticklish he was, and, naturally, you decided to try it out on him first. You wanted to bask in the glory of getting to know about the brother which seemed to be the most ticklish demon, and alone, of course.
“Wh-why tickling, though...?” he asked, somewhat off-handedly.
“Because it can be a bonding activity.” Then you frowned, not sure if it was such a good idea to go ahead with this. “If you’re not interested, I can always--”
“No!” Levi blinked, a bit surprised at his own sudden outburst. He then cleared his throat and looked you in the eye. “I’ll try it out with you.”
“Okay, sweet! Basically, we have to set a timer for ten seconds while we tickle the person in the place that the die suggests. You can do this for as many rounds as you want, as long as you keep track of the amount of time the person being tickled can go without laughing. But I think for a test run we should only do one round, because you’re in the middle of a game. But do be warned, though, because the person who loses, a.k.a. the person who laughs the most according to the recorded seconds, has to undergo a special kind of punishment.”
You heard and saw Levi gulp, and you weren’t sure if he was paying attention to everything that you had just said, only the part about there being a special punishment. He blinked a few times before urging you on. “...Like?”
You smirked, half to yourself, suddenly thinking of the perfect victory strategy. It was really mostly to mess with Levi, but it would still just be fun nonetheless. “You can do whatever you want, but in this case, the loser has to get tickled.”
Levi blinked, flinching at your suggestion, and his gasp was just audible enough for you to hear. You had to fight back your laughter; you couldn’t help but tease him with his ultimate weakness. It was no secret that the demon was extremely ticklish, and you were more than happy to exploit this from him in any way you could. “B-but that’s already the point of the game, isn’t it?!”
“Right. But it would be a rather fitting punishment because of the nature of the game, no? And it would only be for thirty seconds!”
“Fine!” Levi huffed, a slight dusting of a blush tracing across his face. “Just know that I won’t lose, then!”
“All right, you’re on.” You had to fight to roll your eyes, knowing deep down that you were going to win. “Why don’t you go first?”
“Huh?!!” The exclamation came out as a shrill shriek, and you chuckled at Levi’s adorable response to your offer.
“No, no, you roll the dye first and you tickle me, just to see how it works out.”
“Okay...” Levi grabbed the self-made cube of paper that had body parts scrawled out on every edge. You couldn’t work out if his jumpiness was due to his seemingly naturally high anxiety levels, or if it was due to his nervousness about the prospect of being tickled. So you just assumed that it was both.
Levi rolled the dye, which was more like a shaky throw, and it landed with the sided written “ribs” face-up.
“You have to tickle my ribs now,” you prompted the demon when he didn’t respond within the first few moments.
“Huh?! O-oh, right.” Okay, so it probably was shyness. You knew that the demon was very touch-shy, and physical contact often made him anxious or restless. It took a few moments for him to get the handle of, but as soon as he strung up the courage to start his timer set to ten seconds, he quickly reached up and dug into your ribs.
You gasped, not expecting his nails to be so long and so...tickly. You fought the urge to squirm when his fingers got dangerously close to your armpit, and you nearly choked out a full-on belly laugh when he dug between the bones. It had already been at least five seconds and you didn’t laugh yet, and you knew that at this point your win was in the bag, knowing that Levi would barely be able to last a second. However, you did lurch forward in an attempt to escape the grabby and persistent fingers once they returned back to your lower sides, a high-pitched squeal beginning to rise in your throat just as the buzzer went off.
“Oh god, I don’t want to do this...” you heard Levi groan as you swapped places. You were now sitting on the floor, and he had resumed his earlier position of leaning against the back of his gaming chair. Smirking to yourself, you rolled the die, and it quickly landed with the side showing “feet” facing up.
Levi groaned, whispering a barely-audible “oh god” before you set up your timer. You grabbed his ankle and reached over to start the timer, but he kicked away from your grip with a squeak of alarm just milliseconds before you started the timer. “Wait!” he called. At first you were a bit annoyed, but you laughed half to yourself once you realized what was going on.
Levi was covering his face in his hands, and you could see that there was a blush spreading from his neck all the way to the tips of his ears. “I’m not ready for this,” he mumbled.
“Oh come on, it’ll be fine,” you encouraged him, gently taking a hold of his ankle, but he kicked away from you, and you breathed out another laugh.
“MC, I...” Levi was finding it hard not to laugh too. “I...can’t...”
“Yes you can! I just took some pretty rough bullets from you!” This time, you refused to let him escape, and you reached over to quickly start the timer before beginning your rather ruthless attack on his socked soles.
A scream of laughter rung throughout the room, and in an instant you knew that you had won. However, you didn’t want to stop there; you wanted to see how ticklish the demon really was. Levi was cackling pathetically and desperately as you spidered your fingers all around the arches of his feet, and you heard a bang behind you as he came toppling down to the floor, kicking his legs out to try and get you away from him. You weren’t sure if it was because you had mistimed your tap on your D.D.D., but you didn’t hear the timer buzz even after what felt like ten seconds.
“MC!” Levi screamed, letting out a sudden squeal of alarm when you got the good spot underneath his toes. “LET GOHOHO STAHAHAP!!!!”
Yep, the ten seconds surely passed. You had to hide a snicker as you stood up, helping him. “Guess we know who won, Leviachan,” you teased him, poking his nose.
“S-seriously....? Wait, why did I even agree to do this?!” He sounded truly exasperated, and you turned your head to try and control your laughter before he could see you.
“Okay, okay, I’ll go easy on you,” you told him, but would you? It depended on your mood. And how merciless you were feeling, of course. After all, Levi was extremely cute when he was being tickled.
“Sit back down on the chair,” you ordered him. “I want to test something else during your punishment.”
“Okay...w-what?”
“I want to see how long you can keep your arms up.”
“What?! Nonono, that’s WAY too many surprises in one day.” Levi turned his head away from you, frowning and crossing his arms.
A poke to the side was enough for his entire body to jolt, and he let out a squeal, holding the part of his lower side that had just been assaulted. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” you offered, teasingly wiggling your fingers at him.
“Okay okay, I’ll do it!” There was a true note of desperate panic in his voice that time, and he slid away from you in his chair. Well, as far as he could with the wall blocking him in the direction he was headed.
You sighed, lacking the patience for his antics. However, at the same time, how jumpy the demon was at so much as the mere prospect of being tickled was absolutely adorable. You approached him, and he put his arms up while you set the timer for thirty seconds. You counted down for from three before starting the timer, and your sneaky little fingers immediately went for his exposed underarms.
For the umpteenth time that day, Levi let out a squeal of laughter that filled up the entire room within a matter of seconds. His arms immediately shot down to his sides, and he curled into a ball, exploding into laughter.
“Keep your arms up!” you ordered him, trying not to laugh yourself.
“NOHOHOHO PLEEEEHEHEHEASE!!” he cried, thrashing and kicking and nearly bowling the chair right into you with insurmountable strength.
“Oh, now you’ve done it,” you hissed. With his weakened strength from the tickling, you were able to bowl him to the ground and wrap him up in your arms, knowing fully that the move wasted at least a good six seconds on your timer. However, this was a much more advantageous position, for you could basically tickle the demon as much as you wanted now. Your hands traveled up and down his sides, digging into his underarms and making him scream and thrash from side to side, kicking at your legs and slapping at your face.
"PLEHEHEHEASE I’M GONNA PEEHEHEHEE!!!” Levi screamed, his laugh reaching a completely different octave as you pinched at the baby fat around his stomach. At this point, he had grown so tired from the tickling that he was losing the energy to laugh; you could tell in the way he heaved and rasped for breath, barely producing any sound except for the occasional hiccup or wheezy inhale as he fought to laugh uncontrollably.
The timer buzzed, and you let him go. “I am the victor!” you declared, standing upright and pumping your fists in the air as you observed a truly tired Levi curled on the ground, looking as if his soul had left his body for a considerable amount of time.
“You okay there, buddy?” you asked him.
A few moments passed before he responded. “No...” he mumbled. “I’m gonna die here...”
“Oh, don’t be so dramatic. Should I motivate you to get up?”
That earned you a glare. But all the same, you knew deep down that you had won. At least, until he could get you back.
43 notes · View notes
Text
I CLICKED IN EVERY LINK WORD IN THE BOOK OF MARIO THOUSANDS OF DOORS PLOT SYNOPSIS, AND THIS IS WHAT I FOUND
Things of note:47
Let's go
1 Book of mario probably takes place 7 years after the Main events in BoM64 (not the Epilogue, the Epilogue is very close chronologically to BoMToD ) because of one of Karl marques  dialogues
2 Mr krump's daughter died in the war because of an atrocious food shortage caused by the war 
3 the 10 nautis want to use the glass stars to win the war  
4 "Considering that Cortze had been trapped on his boat for 1,000 years, this means Mr. Krump is over a millennium old, making him one of the oldest characters in the series" ex-fucking-cuse me???? He's more than a thousand year old? What?
5 10 nauit culture lacks sweets
6 FUCKIN GOOMBA are from Thailand and probably fought in the war
7 goombell has sulfur in her brain, i don't know how bad is that, its pretty bad but how much?
8 prof honesty is against the Persian empire and tells mario to destroy prince peach
9 "The first 6 Glass Stars were collected for thousands of years, the 7th Glass Star, the Stars Star, is only five years old. The Glass Stars had a chance of becoming a demon, that could only be stopped with a singular Glass Star, creating a weird situation" thats interesting 
10 coffee is toxic to smooths, meaning drinking high amounts of coffee means they won't attack you since they attack by sucking blood 
11 koopley was gone for 10 years, since the war started about 7 years before ToD it means he has no idea about the war
12 hocktail house won an Oscar!
13 Mr mowz is one of few people from ToD who know mario is a female (he was male in BoM64 but he's a she after that) 
14 goomb from BoM64 somehow ended up eaten by hoko saba wich caused him to die (goomb not hoko saba)
15 the 10-nauti are n#zi's and since they're the only one (that we know of) who have a moon base, meaning were literally fighting space n#zi's
16 "According to TEC, Grodan is full of "computers you do not care about." This could mean that Grodan is a robot, but that does not matter" a great , he's a robotic space h#tl$r 
17 somehow peach got TEC pregnant? How do you have a baby with a computer? He got cyber aborted so no weird prince robot baby in this story, I swear the lore gets more crazy the more I learn about it
18 the punnies are fighting the British in the big tree but that is unrelated with the war
19 viviana apparently lost her baby
20 Belda has a wife
21 sir snow is male, even tho he's like the only character with boobs in the history of mario
22 don piano owns the European union and the plant association, even tho he owns the EU, most of it is still Persian empire territory, wich mean he's just one of the leaders of the persian empire (or he's just an allied nation?), maybe the reason the princess of peaches went to rogueport is to talk with Don piano because politics 
23 "Piano's two bodyguards aren't fathers, thus not making them targets to Carbon." WHY IS THAT SO OMINOUS (butchered that word)
24 piano gave the plant association to frankie, he may or may not have turned it into a sugar cookie company (cookie clicker flashbacks)
25 the winner of the glitty pit competition is awarded the prize of being grubbas son,.........WOT?
26 hawk green tried to abort Maria's son by giving maria poisoned cake
27 "It's implied that Hawc Green was raped by Grubba at some point, since he later sends an email to Mario talking about "the blue cock" and how it makes him feel rage" I did not expect that
28 "It's implied in Section 8 that Yoshi Kid might have an N-Word Pass." Thats one way to put it
29 afternoon city is known for its great pudding 
30 the queen of shadows is supergod, meaning its more powerful than gods, browser is also a supergod (since he was in command of the Christian god) but as you know he died and the current one is a glass clone
31 cortze is mr. Krumps dead son/daughter who died in the war, since she's the ghost pirate it means she was in the marines
32 bob seems to hate the irish
33 boat rent is located in the shore of Pennsylvania USA, right on koop territory 
34 don piano gave maria ownership of the world famous train named MORE-COFFEE-MACHINES! 
35 Pennington seems to hate luigi (lewis) calling him a whore
36 the engineer is constantly on drugs and has mood swings, not the type of guy you'd want to control a train
37 when mario asked the engineer for an autograph he gave mario AN ENTIRE FUCKING AIRPORT
38 ghost T. Is the holy spirit and can stop the war at any moment, however he refuses to do so
39 Darknesses are bumpies that over the years became purple 
40 the moon has oxygen (since mario and co. Stay outside and don't die) it is 10-nauti territory and is great for discoveries 
41 posko farh were probably involved in the war, if they have a giant powerful cannon that can blast spaceships into the moon it can also probably blast giant holes in enemy bases
42 goldbob (not to be confused with general goldbob white house) is the only person in posko farh with acces to weapons making him a powerful man
43 general white left posko farh because of the bad wifi connection 
44 "Master of Shadow Darkness...Popular Stones...Seven Run...So we're perfect...Be restored to stone again...Know stars. Let's be alone...And that's the shoe...But the stars are balanced." Were gonna need an expert to decipher this one, its probably something about the stellarrvinden 
45 representative is hoko saba's brother/Girlfriend, yes, girlfriend AND brother, incest is in the air and it smells like rotten fish
46 grodan sealed the devil in his rocket, thats a good idea, let's send the devil into space
47 "According to Queen of Shadows herself, her Spirit Form, aka her true self, is a child" woah, very informative, she's 1000 years old wich is certainly not a kid, however she's a supergod and since they're immortal it makes sense that 1000 years old is still a child, it also mean that the disaster caused 1000 years ago was probably an accident, give a baby powers even gods can't counter and you can bet your ass it will create a few disasters by accidents 
@boom-fanfic-a-latta i expect you to see this
Tumblr media
Is, is that fucking belize?
21 notes · View notes
musicremixer2015 · 3 years
Text
DREAM SMP THEORY LISTS ALL ARE BASED ON WILBUR’S STREAMS SO ADD INFORMATION IF YOU HAVE ANY PLEASE
THEORIES BASED ON THE 11/6 STREAM
Dream is siding with Jschlatt.
One of two things is going to happen. 
At the last minute, he’s gonna side with the Rebellion instead of Schlatt. Dream will kill Schlatt in a battle that will either be so anticlimactic its sad, or in a battle so epic you shit your pants.
Dream will continue to side with Schlatt, and, if Technoblade stays with the Rebellion, Dream and Technoblade will have an epic duel, and SAD-ist will make yet another animation that is basically a gift from God.
Wilbur is going to do one of two things.
1- he’s going to try to blow it up
Everyone will try to convince him not to, but they have no chance. Wilbur is determined, and has been since he had the idea. He won’t let anybody stop this from happening- if he can’t have L’Manberg, no one can. 
He will get everyone except for him and Schlatt out of L’Manberg. They’ll refuse at first, but he’ll keep begging with tears streaming down his face, pleading with them to let him go down with the ship he built, the nation he created. They will reluctantly leave, and watch as it burns down with Wilbur and Jschlatt inside.
2- They will convince him not to blow it up, and/or he won’t blow it up.
Wilbur will stand there with his shaking hand over the button, tears streaming down his and everyone’s faces. They’re all shouting, begging him not to do this. He keeps saying he has no choice, but he keeps faltering, keeps hesitating, until he finally destroys the button.
Wilbur will try to blow it up. He will go absolutely feral, he says he’ll blow it up, and he gets close. But Dream intervenes at the last minute. He’s seen how L’Manberg is special, how it’s affected people for the better and the worse, and he’s decided it’s too good to lose. Dream will tell him to step away, but Wilbur will not. Dream or Tommy will have to go in, and kill him to keep L’Manberg alive. 
So, what happens if L’Manberg blows up?
They rebuild- This is their home. They fought for it, many of them died for it, of course they’re going to built it to it’s former glory and greater. They are going to make it great. 
They let it die- The nation is finished. The land is destroyed, there’s nothing they can do anymore. If they perpetuate the dream, it’ll only make things worse. 
What happens if L’Manberg is intact, and Jschlatt is taken down?
The Rebels won, and the land is theirs- They can now recover from everything that has happened, and rebuild their walls and do what they originally intended. Run their nation without outside interference, and live in peace.
They abandon the nation- Too much has happened, and there’s no way they can make it work anymore.
Who becomes leader of L’Manberg after Jschlatt is removed?
Wilbur- He was the original leader, he started the nation. This was his dream, and he fought hard to gain it back after he was banned from the land. 
Tommy- He was a part of the original group, and as Wilbur said, “Tommy, you will never be President.” He will prove Wilbur wrong, because he had faith in L’Manberg from the beginning. He never wanted to blow it up, he never wanted anything to get in the way of that. 
Niki- Niki has been watching this play out from the beginning. She knew that Schlatt was evil from the beginning, but stayed to actively fight and make things better. She’s watched her nation come from hell and back.
Tubbo- he died for his nation when Schlatt found out he was a traitor. He basically had the same sentiments as Tommy. 
136 notes · View notes
snowe-zolynn-rogers · 3 years
Text
Pairings: Past Aizawa/Mandalay, Pre-Bakugou/Kirishima
Word Count: 2,006 Words
Summary: The Sports Festival, part 2.
Warnings: Fighting Mention, Cursing, Fire Mention, Bullying Mention, Trauma Mention, Injury Mention, Teen Pregnancy Mention, Pregnancy Mention, Partial Nudity Mention, Death Mention, let me know if I should tag anything else.
Usernames: Existence Is A Prison   Aizawa: feral cat dad, Aoyama: gay salt, Hagakure: ranch flavored jello, Tokoyami: foil-mecha, Shinsou: farmer toshi, Kuroiro: life is a nightmare, Shiozaki: saviour, Tsunotori: schrodinger better run, Honenuki: pure, Monoma: nat20, Yamada: President Megaphone, Bakugou: deku-deck-you
Notes: Bakugou doesn't get chained down because fuck that part of the canon. The League will just go after him because he's powerful.
Aizawa, We Agreed No More Cats: Chapter 9
11:50 AM
Existence Is A Prison
gay salt: Yaoyorozu is amazing.
ranch flavored jello: She can bench press me anytime.
gay salt: To be fair, you'd let any strong lesbian bench press you.
ranch flavored jello: You're not wrong but you don't have to say it.
life is a nightmare: She did really well, I'm glad she's advancing despite that Tsubasa guy cutting her up with his glass.
deku deck-you: I think that guy might be related to one of my old friends before UA.
foil-mecha: What happened that you aren't friends anymore
deku deck-you: Tsubasa Ryuu? He got kidnapped or something during a break and I never saw him again. My other two friends? They were fake. They ditched me after the Sludge Villain incident.
nat20: I'll kick their asses for you.
deku deck-you: I wouldn't stop you from burning Aldera Middle School to the ground. For Deku's sake, mostly, but also because I hated those teachers.
feral cat dad: What happened at Aldera Middle School?
deku deck-you: Well, you probably know from Deku by now that I wasn't always easy on him or even this easy to get along with. From the time Deku was misdiagnosed as quirkless, I bullied him. Let's be honest, my reasoning wasn't important because I made his life a living hell just because mine was a living hell at home.
deku deck-you: We talked about everything the day after I moved into the dorms, so don't worry, there's no hard feelings and we're working through all the shit I did to him.
deku deck-you: But, anyway, the teachers at Aldera tried to fail Deku constantly because of his 'quirklessness' but I'd vouch his grades for him once I realized they were trying to flunk him out of the school. And, after the Sludge Villain happened, they began doing the same thing to me because they thought I was influenced by a villain even though I'd told them so many times that I was basically a hostage.
feral cat dad: Looks like I'm opening a formal complaint against Aldera Middle School after the Sports Festival.
deku deck-you: Don't, me and Deku just want to leave Aldera behind us.
feral cat dad: Fine.
feral cat dad: Oh, they had a draw while we were texting. Jeez, that was fast.
deku deck-you: Don't you dare underestimate Kirishima.
ranch flavored jello: Someone has a crush.
deku deck-you: Don't you dare speak of this. I'll launch Deku at you.
ranch flavored jello: Jeez, fine. Feral Deku scares me.
deku deck-you: Good. I gotta go.
12:20 PM
Existence Is A Prison
farmer toshi: Wow, Kats. You did great.
deku deck-you: Can't talk right now. She's in pain and won't let go of me.
deku deck-you is now offline
feral cat dad: Fuck, she overstressed herself.
farmer toshi: I want so badly to check on her but I need to fight Tokoyami now.
1:15 PM
Existence Is A Prison
farmer toshi: Katsuki, you're coming back soon, right? I mean, your match is next after Todoroki and Yaoyorozu.
deku deck-you is online
deku deck-you: I'm back, who's won?
farmer toshi: Kirishima won against Tetsutetsu in their rematch, I won against Fumi, Midoriya won against Toru, Kiyo won against Shizuka, Kaminari just won against Fujioka.
deku deck-you: Okay, good.
ranch flavored jello: I'm down by the entrance to the field. What's wrong with Yaoyorozu?
ranch flavored jello has started a video chat
[Yaoyorozu is shown fumbling around a bit in the ring and Todoroki is in a fighting stance, but drops it when she's facing the wrong way]
Yaoyorozu, why are you stumbling? -Unknown
Shut up and fight me, Todoroki! -Unknown
Something's wrong with you, I won't compete if you're hurt. -Unknown
Just fight me! -Unknown
[Yaoyorozu is shown collapsing and Midnight goes to check on her.]
Yaoyorozu cannot compete due to a previous injury, this match goes to Todoroki! -Unknown
ranch flavored jello has ended the group chat
gay salt: Mon dieu. Is she alright?
ranch flavored jello: She's muttering about her eyes.
ranch flavored jello: Oh god, there's glass in her eyes.
feral cat dad: Get up here, Toru. Now, you don't have to see that.
ranch flavored jello: I won't leave her alone without anyone she knows. I won't. She can't see, Dad.
feral cat dad: Okay, keep her company. But please be aware, they're probably going to do surgery to try to save her vision.
ranch flavored jello: It must have happened when she made that smoke bomb and Tsubasa couldn't see her.
feral cat dad: They're already having Katsuki against Kirishima to ease the tension in the stadium. Clearly, Katsuki's winning already.
2:00 PM
Existence Is A Prison
feral cat dad: Yeah, Katsuki won. So did Shinsou against Midoriya, Kiyo won against Kaminari, and Katsuki won against Todoroki.
ranch flavored jello: At least there's some good news.
deku deck-you: What good news? Icyhot wouldn't fight me with his fire and we spent like ten minutes yelling about trauma before the fucker got blown back so hard when his fire hit my explosion that he's now got a concussion.
feral cat dad: I understand you're angry, but you didn't do anything wrong, Katsuki.
deku deck-you: I know, I just feel bad. Now two of the people I've fought today are out of commission temporarily and I feel responsible.
feral cat dad: I know, and I also know they'll both forgive you. You went off with Uraraka for almost a hour and you didn't mean to injure Todoroki.
2:20 PM
Existence Is A Prison
feral cat dad: I'm so proud of all three of you.
farmer toshi: Katsuki, you're helping put my shoulder into place as a punishment for pulling it out. Recovery Girl already said it was fine.
deku deck-you: A punishment I'll accept fully for doing it in the first place. After I'm done visiting Pink Cheeks again.
deku deck-you is now offline
feral cat dad: My chaotic sons.
ranch flavored jello: Alright, I'm back. Momo can't leave the hospital tonight and she's been instructed to have Recovery Girl heal her in two days.
feral cat dad: There's my daughter. It's a good thing you kids are off for two days after today because you need time to heal after all that.
feral cat dad: Nezu's already insisted Yaoyorozu stay in the dorms because he doesn't want her too far from campus and her parents live in Tokyo prefecture and he feels it's too far for an injures student to travel.
feral cat dad: Tokage is already getting spoken to by Nezu, so she'll likely be added to this chat soon enough. Toru, can you turn on Yaoyorozu's screen reader for her so I can add her to this chat.
ranch flavored jello: Done!
feral cat dad has added Yaoyorozu
Yaoyorozu: Hello everyone!
foil-mecha: Hi, Momo!
Yaoyorozu: Hello! I'm going to take a nap, the surgery was very taxing so I'm quite tired. I'll message you all later when I wake up.
ranch flavored jello: I'll stay with her, don't worry!
Yaoyorozu is now offline
feral cat dad: You haven't changed her username yet, Hitoshi.
farmer toshi: I figure she probably doesn't know our usernames yet so I'll do it later after we tell her ours.
deku deck-you is now online
deku deck-you: Nezu's with Uraraka so I can't visit her right now.
farmer toshi: Is she okay?
deku deck-you: I don't know if I'm allowed to say. Honestly, if it were me and someone told other people I didn't know well without me knowing, I'd call it an invasion of privacy.
feral cat dad: Nezu said Uraraka should be fine. There's no need to worry about her, Recovery Girl is nothing if not adamant on the care of her patients.
deku deck-you: Alright, I'm allowed in now that she's asking for me.
deku deck-you is now offline
life is a nightmare: I wonder how badly hurt she is to want Katsuki there for comfort.
3:00 PM
Existence Is A Prison
gay salt: screenshotofurarakaslatestinstagramphoto.jpg
ochako&baby.jpg
Liked by blastyboykats and 57 others
uraravity Welcome to the world baby boy, despite being unexpected.
View all 15 comments
minabeana Oh my gosh, that baby is so cute. I love him already.
winniepie He's so cute.
kiripima Aw, welcome to the world, little guy.
sparklegirl He's cute, Ocha, mon ami!
michipeachy 🥰🥰🥰
farmer toshi: Does Uraraka have a baby sibling?
foil-mecha: Last I heard she was an only sibling.
nat20: Maybe her mom had the baby today?
feral cat dad: Alright, Uraraka is good now, not that I need to tell you since Aoyama apparently stalks people's accounts on everything.
gay salt: Hey, she gave me her account name willingly! I have all the other girl's accounts.
feral cat dad: Anyway. Tokage's also done talking to Nezu. Here's the girls of the hour.
feral cat dad has added Uraraka and Tokage
Uraraka: Hi, guys.
gay salt: Ocha, are you okay?
Uraraka: Oh yeah, Nezu said me and my baby can stay at the dorms.
gay salt: Quoi? Your baby?
Uraraka: Yeah, didn't Katsuki or Aizawa tell you all? That's why I'm moving into the dorms. I went after my match in the Sports Festival with Katsuki and they had to end up doing an emergency C-Section because they weren't finding a heartbeat. Thankfully, my idiot daughter is fine, just chaotic.
gay salt: What's her name?
Uraraka: Uraraka Emiyo.
gay salt: I will spoil her.
foil-mecha: How cute is she?
Uraraka: katsukicryingholdingemiyo.jpg
foil-mecha: Truly a glorious child. I assure you, us 1a students will assist you in your raising of dear Emiyo as best we can.
ranch flavored jello: I'm not good with baby-babies but I'll try.
Yaoyorozu is now online
Yaoyorozu: I'll help as well, once I'm able to.
Uraraka: It's okay if you don't want to, Momo.
Yaoyorozu: I don't believe you were there for it but, in the second rounds, I had to forfeit the match to Todoroki because, in the first round, Tsubasa Yuudai accidentally got glass in my eyes. My win in the first round was a fluke and I was running only off instinct when I got him out of bounds but, since taking the glass out can't fix the amount of nerve damage, I'll likely be blind for the foreseeable future.
Uraraka: Oh gods, Momo, I'd come give you a hug but I can't move around much yet.
Yaoyorozu: It's fine, Uraraka. It was an accident after all, he didn't mean to do that but the smoke bomb I made obscured his vision.
life is a nightmare: If either of you need anything, just text us, someone will get it to you.
Yaoyorozu: Thank you, but I have Toru for now!
Uraraka: Thanks. I'm good, I've got a Katsuki.
nat20: You say that like you've roped him in or something.
Uraraka: Well he's been proclaiming that he's Emiyo's uncle for the whole thirty minutes she's been in this world.
schrodinger better run: To be fair, is he not her uncle by now?
Uraraka: He is. He's the first besides my parents and me to hold her. He's definitely her uncle.
pure: Has he even put her down yet?
Uraraka: katsukiasleepwithemmiyoinhisarms.jpg
Uraraka: No, he hasn't. My mom's about to pick her up though. She's worried she'll fall and I have to feed her and all so he'll be temporarily losing holding rights anyway since I have to make him leave to feed her.
gay salt: He's sleeping, Ocha. Plus, I thought you knew he was 💅
Uraraka: He's gay?
gay salt: No, he's trans, Ocha, us girls had a whole meeting on including our ftm classmates on girl days if they're comfortable with it and you forgot?
Uraraka: Oh yeah, in that case I'm whipping out the titty so my mom can show my how to feed a baby.
Uraraka is now offline
feral cat dad: You kids are going to give me a heart attack one day and I'll put all your names on my tombstone as a reason I died.
@everythingisstardust 
16 notes · View notes
joezworld · 3 years
Text
Silverliner Cults and Pet Cars
So this is what happens when @rise-comics and I are left mostly alone in a discord server.
Most of this is canon.
Tumblr media
I like to think that the one speaking english is the metroliner cab car
[12:15 AM]and all the acelas speak french just to annoy the rest of the NEC
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:18 AM Buzz(in a Roz voice): I have not a goddamned clue what y’all are saying
📷@Jz1 and all the acelas speak french just to annoy the rest of the NEC 📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:19 AM Then they meet the one Charger who sounds like Arnold Schwarzenegger
📷@Jz1 Every charger has a different accent, which really does not mesh well with the rest of Amtrak, most of whom were built in Pennsylvania or Indiana and therefore have the blandest accent possible 📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:21 AM It’s called variety
[12:22 AM]- The one Long Range Charger, currently drunk off their ass(edited) 📷Jz1 — Today at 12:23 AM It's called One train with four accents. They send a Genesis to pick up the new Chargers and he spends the entire ride home regretting ever making fun of the Acelas because at least they don't speak with an accent jesus christ this isn't in english
[12:23 AM]He gets to beech grove and is visibly twitching
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:24 AM When they’re at Chicago, the Genesis has started contemplating murder
[12:25 AM]Until one of the chargers offers up their stash of acid as a bribe
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:25 AM "No one would blame me" [Queens accent from the back] What? "Nothing!" [California Accent from the back] Sounded like something man.
📷@Rise Comics(she/her) Until one of the chargers offers up their stash of acid as a bribe 📷Jz1 — Today at 12:26 AM There's not enough acid to make this bearable
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:26 AM At some point, there probably has to be trolling involved, from the POV of the genesis
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:27 AM By the time they pass through Iowa the Genesis is spreading baseless lies about how Amfleet cars work
Jz1 — Today at 12:27 AM
The Chargers take him at his word and start setting up shrines
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:31 AM Oh god, Amfleet shrines
📷@Rise Comics(she/her) Oh god, Amfleet shrines 📷Jz1 — Today at 12:32 AM [Chargers] - We must leave offerings to THE SILVER FLEET
[12:32 AM][SEPTA Silverliner parked nearby] - The what now?
[12:33 AM]That acutally would be even funnier - they have no idea what an Amfleet looks like so they Cargo Cult the Silverliners
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:33 AM [The NJT F40s watching this happen] - dying of laughter, hard enough to derail without moving(edited)
Meanwhile the ACS-64 fleet is growing more and more CONCERN with each passing day
[12:34 AM]it is unclear whether they feel that the Chargers are nuts, or if they've missed a memo Jz1 — Today at 12:35 AM
They try to worship one of the Metroliners. It ends badly
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:35 AM
The Genesis that instigated it is either laughing, terrified, or both
Jz1 — Today at 12:36 AM That Motherfucker hopped on the first Empire Builder west and made this mess someone else's problem
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:36 AM Lol
NEW
[12:38 AM]Then an F59 just gets fed up enough to pull strings and get that guy back into Philly to beat his ass in the most Philly way possible. Jz1 — Today at 12:40 AM Poor sap arrives in Philly and the Entirety of Philly yard is like the locker shrine scene from MIB2 except they're all trying to worship some poor silverliner who is scared out of his mind(edited)
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:41 AM I can only imagine how scary it’d be to be in that situation(edited)
[12:42 AM]Or how funny it is for the SEPTA AEM-7 watching this happen(edited)
📷@Rise Comics(she/her) Or how funny it is for the SEPTA AEM-7 watching this happen(edited) 📷Jz1 — Today at 12:43 AM The entire AEM-7 fleet is laughing so hard they reverted to Swedish
[12:44 AM]The Acelas are laughing in French
[12:44 AM]The entire yard sounds like a fucked up version of Ellis Island
[12:44 AM]A single CSX engine rolls by on the bridge that goes over the yard, stops dead in his tracks, and runs the other way
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:45 AM Lmao
[12:45 AM]Woe be anyone who has to be in the yard at that moment
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:46 AM At that exact moment a Northeast regional shows up with a trainload of Amfleet coaches and a schism forms
[12:46 AM]An vainglorious RDC tries to get his own cult
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:46 AM Lol
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:47 AM No work is accomplished on this day
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:49 AM
Ah yes, the Amfleet Cult incident of 2016 is one acid trip of a comedy
Was Franz Kafka one of the staff?
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:50 AM He only wishes he was
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:51 AM Lol
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:51 AM From that point on, The Charger deliveries were done by BNSF
[12:51 AM]Surely this will cause no problems ever
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:52 AM It’s either four different accents or everyone sounds like a slightly different surfer
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:53 AM It's either very german, very california, very New York, Or very Florida (because brightline)
[12:54 AM]I also like to imagine that the brightline engines turn into Florida Engine the moment they crossed the state line
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:54 AM Yep lol
[12:54 AM]Complete with alligators
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:54 AM Fought a Gator (and won)
[12:54 AM]Fought a Gator (and lost)
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:55 AM Lol
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:55 AM Florida Engine does 'industrial quantity" of Methamphetamines, breaks land speed record Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:56 AM Florida Engine swims across port
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:56 AM Florida engine learns to swim, fights boat
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:57 AM Florida Engine accidentally kidnaps entire Panama City Police Department
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:57 AM Some guy in Lake Okeechobee says he doesn't like trains - the water bubbles and a Charger erupts from the water "I heard you were talking shit"
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:58 AM Lol
[12:58 AM]Florida Engine busted for selling fake golden bricks
📷Jz1 — Today at 12:58 AM Florida Engine arrested for selling stolen fake golden bricks
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 12:59 AM Florida Engine derails, orders Wendy’s in a nearby drive thru
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:00 AM Florida Engine steals his own wheels, puts himself up on blocks Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:02 AM
Florida Engines accidentally welded together in one consist.
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:02 AM Florida Engines try to recreate Baldwin Centipede, accidentally create a different kind of Centipede
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:04 AM Florida Engine gets drunk, tries to fly
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:04 AM Lmao
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:05 AM Florida Engine vows revenge on airplanes - claims "they've had it too good for too long"
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:05 AM Florida Engine arrested for attempted arson via spaghetti
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:06 AM Florida Engine arrested for screaming about "noodle incident" at 4AM
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:07 AM Florida Engine consumes too much NOs, recreates 2 Fast 2 Furious
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:07 AM Florida Engine jumps drawbridge - claims it was late for court
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:08 AM
Florida Engine breaks world record for fastest and longest sustained multi track drift
📷Joseph R (he/him) — Today at 1:09 AM and hits a signal
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:09 AM Florida Engine steals house - claims fourth amendment
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:10 AM Florida Engines steal shed to avoid rent(edited)
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:11 AM Florida Engine crashes off end of line - claims he was going to Orlando to "see that rat mickey"(edited)
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:12 AM Florida Engine bites gator - claims it tasted like chicken
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:13 AM Florida Engine invades NASA Cape Canaveral - swears vengeance against SpaceX and Elon Musk
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:16 AM
Florida Engines steal SpaceX rocket, dunks on Musk
Jz1 — Today at 1:16 AM Florida Engine Hacks Elon Musk's Twitter, Causes Dogecoin Pump and Dump
NEW
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:17 AM Florida Engines block port of Miami in world’s longest consist Jz1 — Today at 1:18 AM Florida Engines claim this act of sabotage was to support the container ship Ever Given "in her hour of need"
[1:19 AM]Florida Engines seemed unaware that Ever Given was freed two months ago Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:21 AM
Florida Engine spills fruit train, creates jam
Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:22 AM Florida car cosplays as train, wears cone as a hat
Tumblr media
Jz1 — Today at 1:24 AM Florida Airplane lands on Train Tracks, offers Florida Engine "a fair fight"
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:25 AM Florida Engine and Florida Plane fight in world’s largest Wawa, Florida Boat wins
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:25 AM Hahahaha
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:26 AM A gator was shoved where the sun don’t shine
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:26 AM Florida Engine attacks John Deere Dealership, fights gators
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:28 AM Florida Engine throws pet gator at John Deere dealer(edited)
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:29 AM Florida Engine steals Car, claims he was 'adopting it'
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:31 AM Florida Engine sells stolen cars as ‘pet cars’ 📷1
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:32 AM Florida Engine and Florida Boat conspire to traffic in exotic "pet cars"
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:34 AM Florida Semi-Truck roped into exotic ’pet car’ scheme by Florida Engine and Florida Boat.
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:35 AM Florida Crane arrested in increasingly-large "pet car" bust
[1:35 AM]Florida Submarine also under suspicion
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:38 AM Autoracks stolen by Florida Train
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:38 AM Florida "pet car" bust increases - multiple Florida Engines suspected
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:39 AM Florida East Coast Railway Indicted In ‘Pet Car’ Scandal
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:40 AM Florida Plane denied bail in "pet car" arrests - deemed a flight risk Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:45 AM Florida Train acquitted on all charges relating to ‘pet car’ scandal, still fined for public exposure.
📷Jz1 — Today at 1:46 AM Florida Train thanks Florida Lawyer for proving innocence - Florida Boat and Florida Crane to go to trial next week
📷Rise Comics(she/her) — Today at 1:48 AM Florida Boat was actually Egyptian fishing trawler. Florida Boat still at large.
28 notes · View notes