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#john 8:47
graceandpeacejoanne · 2 years
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Revelation 3: Philadelphia
Jesus would not permit God’s adversaries from preventing God’s beloved entering God’s holy house. Jesus had opened the portal, and no one could shut it. #Revelation3 #Philadelphia #Alasehir
Then, to the angel of the assembly in Philadelphia write, “These things says the Holy One, the Trustworthy and Truthful One, the One Who has the key of David, the One Who opens and no one closes, and Who closes and no one opens: “I have perceived your works: Behold, I have given before you a portal which has been opened, one that no one is able to close, because you have little ability, yet you…
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Who is your father? (John 8:38-4)
Who is your father? (John 8:38-4)
Table Of Contentsshow‭‭The Passage‭‭Father Abraham‭‭Sons’ of the Devil‭‭Clear Image‭‭Wake Up Call John 8 38 47link ‭‭The Passage This week we will study ‭‭‭‭John‬ ‭8:38-47. Let’s read the passage, “I speak of what I have seen with my Father, and you do what you have heard from your father.” They answered him, “Abraham is our father.” Jesus said to them, “If you were Abraham’s children, you…
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sayruq · 22 hours
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World Central Kitchen announced that it will resume operations in Gaza on Monday, almost one month after seven of its aid workers were killed in an Israeli airstrike in the enclave. The U.S.-based nonprofit group, founded by celebrity chef José Andrés, suspended operations in Gaza for four weeks after the workers were killed on April 1, according to a statement. The organization identified the aid workers as Saifeddin Issam Ayad Abutaha, a 25-year-old Palestinian; Lalzawmi (Zomi) Frankcom, a 43-year-old Australian; Damian Soból, a 35-year-old from Poland; Jacob Flickinger, a 33-year-old dual citizen of the U.S. and Canada; Security team members John Chapman, 57, James (Jim) Henderson, 33, and James Kirby, 47, all from the United Kingdom, were also killed in the attack.
Before halting operations, the organization had distributed more than 43 million meals in Gaza “and accounted for 62% of all international NGO aid,” WCK said in a statement. “The humanitarian situation in Gaza remains dire,” said Erin Gore, the nonprofit’s chief executive officer. “We are restarting our operation with the same energy, dignity, and focus on feeding as many people as possible.” WCK has 276 trucks carrying almost 8 million meals that are ready to cross into Gaza via Rafah, and will send trucks into the enclave via Jordan too, it said in a statement. The organization is also continuing to explore delivering food with the help of Open Arms, a Spanish humanitarian organization, and the United Arab Emirates.
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fandom · 5 months
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Movies
Hi, Barbie.
Barbie
Spider-Man: Across the Spider-Verse
Goncharov
Nimona
Glass Onion: A Knives Out Mystery
Red, White, and Royal Blue
Lord of the Rings -3
Black Panther +24
The Addams Family
The Super Mario Bros. Movie -4
Knives Out
Puss In Boots: The Last Wish
Oppenheimer
The Hunger Games
Avatar: The Way of Water
Guardians of the Galaxy
Shrek
The Little Mermaid +15
Scream -1
Top Gun: Maverick -1
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles: Mutant Mayhem
Everything Everywhere All At Once +7
Saw +14
Twilight -13
Wendell & Wild
Howl's Moving Castle -6
The Hobbit -3
Five Nights at Freddy's
Enola Holmes
My Policeman
Deadpool -8
How to Train Your Dragon +12
Beauty and the Beast +16
Avatar
Scream VI
Bottoms
Mean Girls +6
Megamind -4
Metalocalypse: Army of the Doomstar
Spirited Away -10
The Batman -38
Rogue One: A Star Wars Story
Venom -34
Les Misérables
Encanto -44
Iron Lung
Coraline
The Thing
John Wick
Strange Way of Life
Blue Beetle
Indiana Jones and the Dial of Destiny
Legally Blonde
Frozen -14
Dungeons & Dragons: Honor Among Thieves
Ghosted
American Psycho -7
Princess Mononoke
Dune -49
The Princess Bride
Teen Wolf: The Movie
Star Wars: Episode III—Revenge of the Sith -21
Pacific Rim
Renfield
Shrek 2
Saw X
The Old Guard -29
Nope -47
Spider-Man: Beyond the Spider-Verse
Night at the Museum
Soul -26
The Mummy
The Nightmare Before Christmas
My Little Pony: Equestria Girls
Hellraiser
The Lost Boys
The Marvels
Emesis Blue
The Shape of Water
The Menu
My Neighbor Totoro
Shazam -40
Sonic the Hedgehog -66
Pirates of the Caribbean -48
The Hunger Games: Catching Fire
Elemental
Lilo & Stitch
Fight Club
The Dark Knight
The Hunger Games: The Ballad of Songbirds & Snakes
The Princess Diaries
The Incredibles
Halloween Ends
The Lorax
10 Things I Hate About You
Heathers
Kung Fu Panda
The Devil Wears Prada
Rise of the Guardians
Birds of Prey
The number in italics indicates how many spots a title moved up or down from the previous year. Bolded titles weren’t on the list last year.
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gallifreyanhotfive · 4 months
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Random Doctor Who Facts You Might Not Know
The Doctor has been known to keep a teddy bear in his pocket.
The Master's first TARDIS (Lolita) is the Doctor's TARDIS's twin.
The Eighth Doctor once had sex with a sentient planet.
Machiavelli, Richelieu, and Robespierre were all just different aliases for the immortal Hades.
The iceberg that the Titanic crashed into was actually the Monk's TARDIS.
Also on board at the time were several incarnations of the Doctor, the Decayed Master, Jack Harkness, John Hart, Ace McShane, and Bernice Summerfield.
The First, Fourth, and Fifth Doctors were all in London around when the Great Fire started in 1666.
The Eighth Doctor was briefly engaged to Queen Edith but ran away before the wedding.
Consecrated planets, moons, and asteroids cannot be mined under Galactic Law.
The Doctor used to make up imaginary enemies to play fight when they were a small, lonely child. One of these enemies was called Mandrake.
The Sixth Doctor once went back in time with Peri to kill a baby who would become an evil dictator but could not go through with it.
After Nyssa tried to fix the chameleon circuit, the TARDIS took the shape of a whale.
Tegan Jovanka is the Earth Ambassador to Gallifrey.
The First Doctor participated in a riot and became wanted by the CIA two days before running away from Gallifrey (although some sources dispute this).
While the Ninth Doctor witnessed Kennedy's assassination, the First Doctor witnessed McKinley's.
The First Doctor has been repeatedly eaten and regurgitated by a whale before.
Marilyn Monroe married both the Eleventh Doctor and King Henry VIII, who fathered Elizabeth I, who married the Tenth Doctor, and he had also been married to Amy Pond, who was also the Doctor’s mother-in-law through River Song. Talk about a confusing family tree!
The First Doctor fed a snapping wart fowl to Valyes's summer project, and Valyes has had a grudge ever since.
The Eighth Doctor once demanded to die naked upon being sentenced to execution.
All righty, folks. I'm very tired! Good night. I may add more later.
Part 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31, 32, 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39, 40, 41, 42, 43, 44, 45, 46, 47, 48, 49, 50
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blurredcolour · 1 month
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The Only Truth... | Part One
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
John "Bucky" Egan x POW Flight Nurse!Female Reader
While your journeys are very different, fate brings both you and Major John Egan to Stalag VIIA in Moosburg, Germany.
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Warnings: Language, Angst, Descriptions of Aerial Combat and Plane Crash, Reader Injury (2nd Degree Burns), Death, Blood, Gore, Angst, John Egan Injury, Forced March, Hospital Setting, POW Camp Setting, SS Officers, Mental Health Struggles, Inevitable Historical and Military Inaccuracies, Rating - 18+ ONLY.
Author’s Note: This is a work of fiction based off the portrayal by the actors in the Apple TV+ series. I hold nothing but respect for the real life individuals referenced within.
Word Count: 7531
-------------------------
January 8, 1945
A cacophony of thunderous explosions and shrieking metal shredded your restful state where you lay perched on the bottom stretcher in the back of a C-47, desperately trying to recover from the routine 0400 wake-up that came on mission days before your arrival at the advance airfield where some eighteen wounded men would come under your care. As the plane lurched and shuddered again, you bolted upright, cracking your head on the middle stretcher above you with a sharp expletive as the rows of jerry cans that you had helped load to fight off pre-flight jitters rattled against the floor where they were strapped down.
You had never experienced flak before. You had trained for the possibility of it at the School of Air Evacuation in Bowman Field, Kentucky, but the reality of it was something entirely different. Watching pinpricks of daylight appear through the alarmingly thin skin of the aircraft flooded your mouth with the bitter taste of adrenaline, your heart pounding violently as it prepared to fight or flee – but given that you were thousands of feet in the air, neither of those options were really available to you. Scrambling to your feet, you stumbled along the narrow path between the supplies that had been crammed onto the plane to be left at the front, to be traded for wounded patients on landing, and tried to get to the nose of the plane. Tried to get to cockpit where Major Roy and Captain Mercer were, pilot and co-pilot – the senior officers. They would surely know what to do.
Grateful for the decision to add your sheepskin flight jacket and gloves to your uniform of olive drab jacket and slacks with shirt and tie, a garrison cap pinned onto your sensibly styled hair, you still felt a shiver run through you despite the added warmth as you neared the radioman Warren and the brand new, baby-faced navigator Schmidt. With brown eyes wide as saucers and freckles splattered haphazardly across his face, you would not have believed the boy to be a day over fifteen. Given the fact that the plane had wandered into the range of enemy guns, your suspicions were growing all the more likely. Turning to see the back of your surgical technician, Fitzgibbons, blocking the entry into cockpit, you were about to tap his shoulder when a shower of wet, hot viscera splattered across you from the left – the only trace of Warren that remained, as a ragged hole in the fuselage now replaced his radio operator’s position.
You were vaguely aware of someone screaming, not realizing the haunting and horrified noise was emanating from your throat until Fitzgibbons grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you firmly.
“Lieutenant!” He shouted, seemingly exasperated with you. “Are you hurt?!”
Snapping your mouth shut, you smeared your hands across your face and down your body, shaking your head as the acrid smell of fuel flooded your nostrils, returning your senses to you. You quickly looked to Schmidt on your right, worried he might have been in the line of fire, and frowned to see him trying to yank a sizeable piece of metal from his shoulder.
“No, don’t!” You shouted firmly and grabbed the first aid kit from the wall above him, quickly padding the penetrating object with gauze and wrapping it, finding the purpose and procedure of it steadying. “It’ll keep the bleeding slow, ok? Keep it in, Schmitty.” You offered what you hoped was a reassuring smile, but with the remnants of Warren, mixed with the contents of the fuel tanks, splattered across you, who was to say what image you presented in that moment.
“It’s all my fault. It’s all my fault Ma’am, we shouldn’t even be here, got lost in the clouds an…” He began to blubber, and the plane shuddered and lurched again as Mercer tried banking out of the hail of flak, fairly dumping you into his lap.
“Easy now, easy…” You cleared your throat as it began to burn with irritation, lifting your head to see smoke billowing in from the hole in the fuselage.
“That’s it, we’re bailing out!” Roy yelled from the cockpit as he hit the bailout bell and Fitzgibbons quickly collected your parachutes, but you insisted on sending Schmidt down the aisle and out the door behind the wing first, given that he was injured.
“You know what to do Schmitty, try not to land on that shoulder.” You nodded firmly as you strapped your parachute on, fumbling slightly due to shaking hands and your thick gloves, but the repetition during your training paid off with your eventual success.
“Yes, Ma’am.” He nodded before seeming to vanish out the side of the plane.
“Sergeant.” You turned to Fitzgibbons, but he shook his head.
“You may outrank me Ma’am but you’re still a lady.” He muttered stubbornly, gesturing insistently toward the door.
“Get a move on!” Came Mercer’s impatient cry from the now-distant cockpit and you glared at Fitzgibbons.
The smoke that had been curling around you ignited then, a wall of flame licking through the air, fixing to separate Fitzgibbons from the door. A look of pure terror crossed his face – in a plane loaded with fuel, carrying dozens of jerry cans and tanks of oxygen, fire was certain death. Gripping the doorframe tightly with your right hand, you flung your left forward in advance of the encroaching, fierce heat, somewhat protected by the leather you wore, though the searing pain on your wrist assured you the flames had still found a way through. Grasping the surgical technician by the collar, you yanked him toward you just before the oppressive wall of fire sealed off the front half of the plane, checking that he nor his parachute were alight before shoving him out the door. You did not wait long to follow him.
Tears were streaming down your cheeks as the sleeve of your jacket was smoldering, the leather hardening and shrinking, the fleece on the inside trapping agonizing heat against your flesh. But your first priority was gravity. Yanking on the ripcord, you cried out at the sharp jolt from your midsection as the parachute caught the air and flung you upward before you began a gentle descent. Then you were able to begin frantically smacking at your coat, trying in vain to stop further injury. But it was not the leather itself that was burning, rather the fuel that coated the surface of it, and it refused to be put out. You had to get the damn thing off.
At last the disorienting cloud gave way to mercifully flat Italian farmland, the ground rushing up to meet your feet. You punched the harness free from your chest, yanking off your gloves, and wrestling free of your coat before stumbling forward toward the sound of a nearby stream, collapsing onto your chest to submerge the screaming flesh of your arm into the icy water. The relief of it drew a soft sob from your throat. The sliver of skin that had been exposed between your sleeve and glove was already starting to blister, would surely scar. You could not see the rest of your forearm trapped beneath your uniform sleeve, but it might have faired somewhat better.
You could have happily lay there for all of eternity, numbing the agonized nerve endings in your arm, but the sharp press of a rifle muzzle between your shoulder blades brought an abrupt end to your moment of bliss.
“Up.” A sharp command was issued in an angry, accented voice and you carefully, if awkwardly, raised up onto your knees with your hands in the air, turning to face the man.
The German soldier’s eyes widened, and his jaw hung slightly open for a moment, his shock more than evident as you revealed yourself to be a woman, before a hardened mask fell over his features once more. He gestured sharply with his rifle for you to rise to your feet and you were quick to obey. He stepped forward, reaching out as if to search you and then stopped, once again looking to your face.
You had read a pamphlet once, on what to do if you were captured. At the time, the situation had seemed utterly preposterous and unlikely, but standing face to face with a German solider in the middle of occupied Italy, you were suddenly grateful you remember something of what to do. You gave him your name followed by,
“Second lieutenant. N-741432.”
“Leutnant?” He muttered, nose crinkling, but his gaze moved to the gold butter bar on first your right shoulder and then your left, the second lieutenant’s insignia. His eyes narrowed further to see the silver wings on your left breast with the prominent N denoting your status as a Flight Nurse. “Schwester…”
The first bit of German was easy to extrapolate, sounded very much like the English version of your rank, but the second sounded like ‘sister’ more than anything else and you were not entirely certain what he was trying to communicate. He seemed finished with the conversation when he motioned to the left with his rifle.
“Go.”
And so you went, keeping your arms raised despite the arching protest of the left, past the still-smoldering remains of your flight jacket and your gloves, past your parachute tumbling across the field on the icy breeze, towards a group of two more German soldiers who seemed equally shocked as your face came into view. You supposed the slacks and loose fit of your jacket made it difficult from a distance to determine that you were a woman, but each of them was quick to smother their reactions as soon as they were revealed. One of the new fellows, so blond he barely had eyebrows, motioned for you to drop your hands and you were barely able to conceal your pain in doing so.
A flurry of Germany left his lips, making your eyebrows furrow in confusion before he gestured at the wet sleeve of your jacket. “Hurt?”
Nodding emphatically, you swallowed, pulling the fabric up slightly to reveal some of the blistered skin. The three men turned to one another, and a rather heated debate ensued, or at least that was the impression you gleaned from their tones of voice and body language, before the loudest among them seemed to prevail.
“You, come, medic.” He grasped your uninjured elbow and led you through the field on a slightly different vector toward a semi-ruined barn where several German soldiers were receiving treatment.
A soldier bearing a white armband with the Geneva cross came over when your guide beckoned and after their brief exchange, gestured for you to take a seat on an old barrel. Taking a pair of scissors, the medic carefully cut through your jacket and shirt, revealing angry, blistered skin all the way up to your elbow. Very gently, your arm was bandaged before he offered you a couple of pills that you did not recognize, and you refused them with a soft shake of the head. He shrugged and tucked them back into his pocket.
“Go, schwester.”
You frowned and pointed at yourself. “Schwester?”
The medic nodded and pointed to your golden nurse’s Caduceus insignias pinned to the lower lapels of your jacket and your eyes widened in recognition. “Oh, nurse.” You muttered quietly and stood. “Thank you.” Nodding to the medic, you followed the soldier out of the farmhouse as you rolled up the ruined ends of your sleeves to keep them from flapping obnoxiously.
What followed was a seemingly endless amount of walking, your entire body beginning to shake with cold and shock, as the soldier sought out his commanding officer. Everything felt surreal, the sound of battle so close at hand, German soldiers all around you, casting repetitive glances your way – it felt as though you had stumbled into the wrong side of a John Wayne film. When, at last, you plodded into the correct house on the outskirts of a small village, you were unspeakably grateful for the fire roaring in the hearth behind the desk of the imposing German officer who glared down his nose at you.
“Too bad you’re a woman…” He muttered in startlingly good English, making it your turn to look on in shock as your legs threatened to give out. “I suppose you also only know name, rank, serial number?”
Clenching your jaw, you nodded stubbornly, trying not to let your face betray the way your heart lurched hopefully at the word ‘also’ and he exhaled a long-suffering sigh. “You can put the contents of your pockets in here.” He held out a small burlap sack and you frowned, but obediently surrendered your favorite tube of lipstick, the four spare hairpins you always carried around, and your change purse – things all stored in your uniform jacket as you found the pockets of the flight jacket too unreliable for storage anyway. Satisfied you were carrying nothing more, he nodded to the man behind you and issued an order in German.
It was difficult to convince your legs into motion again as you were led down to a grimy root cellar with a dirt floor and only one window letting in little light. You had never seen a more welcome sight in your entire life as Schmidt and Mercer lifted their faces to meet you, their equally grimy and worn-out but elated expressions quickly blurring behind tears of relief that mortifyingly flooded your eyes. Dabbing them away, you quickly moved to Schmidt’s side and frowned to see he still had the remnants of your hasty bandage job and the piece of shrapnel in place, seemingly not afforded the same medical care you had been.
“Shit, Schmitty, they didn’t do a thing for you did they.” Kneeling beside him you began to unravel the bandages and gauze. “This needs to come out, then. Captain, would you mind holding him still, sir?”
“I’ve got him.” He nodded and grabbed the boy’s hands as you took a steadying breath.
Wrapping your fingers around the protruding end of the warped, jagged piece of metal, you began to carefully pull it from his shoulder, angling it forward as an uneven, wider piece was revealed on the end. Schmidt did an admirable job of relegating his protests to whimpers and murmurs of ‘oh god,’ only letting out one great yelp as you pulled the last of it free. You would have preferred to flush the wound with something, but there was no water available. Encouragingly, though, there was no great gush of blood.
“You did so good, Schmitty.” You smiled broadly and frowned a moment at the filthy bandages you had removed from him before beginning to unravel the relatively clean ones from your own arm.
“M…Ma’am!” He protested, voice cracking as he saw the state of your skin.
“You’re at much higher risk of infection than me, Sergeant, I won’t take any argument.”
“I don’t suppose I have any say in this?” Captain Mercer arched one of his rather elegant, black eyebrows and you swallowed.
“I’m sorry sir, but not when it comes to medical treatment. Besides, they went out of their way to bandage me once, maybe they’ll do it again.” You muttered and tied off the dressing on Schmidt. “Let me know if it gets hot or more painful, ok?”
He nodded quickly, settling back against the wall and you followed suit, feeling quite fatigued, sore, and to your surprise, hungry. Resting your throbbing arm atop your knee, you leaned your head back against the bricks of the foundation, closing your eyes to listen to the scuff of jackboots across the floorboards above you. Your mind wanted to whirl like a top, to turn questions over and over like ‘Where are we?’ ‘What will they do with us?’ ‘How long will they keep us down here?’ ‘Where are Fitz and Roy?’ but it would just be a waste of energy. Your fate was no longer in your hands and what would happen next would come no matter how hard you dwelt upon it.
The sound of the door at the top of the stairs scraping across the worn floor had all three of your heads snapping up as three sets of feet tromped down into the cellar. It was difficult to hold back your smile as Fitzgibbons peered out from between two German soldiers, the first gesturing for him to join you all on the floor while the other set down a tin plate of thick slices of dark bread covered with thin smears of margarine and four mugs of bitter smelling, black coffee. The first soldier crouched down and pointed at your arm, speaking in German.
“I needed bandages.” You pointed at Schmidt, and he frowned, either not understanding, or unimpressed. Perhaps both.
He straightened with a huff before digging around in his woolen jacket to produce a thick, rectangular bundle, tossing it at you. The two of them then retreated upstairs, shutting the door firmly behind them. Fitzgibbons was on you almost immediately, grasping the folded bandage to unravel it curiously.
“This does not look good, Lieutenant.” He looked at your arm pointedly and you huffed.
“Schmitty was worse off, Fitz, needs must.” You muttered but held out your arm without further protest as he quickly familiarized himself with the foreign bandage and carefully wrapped as much of your burn as he could.
“Thank you for what you did, Ma’am.” He murmured, voice barely audible, and you shook your head quickly.
“You’d have done the same.”
He lifted his eyes to meet yours, gaze filled with a vulnerable uncertainty, and you squeezed his shoulder with your free hand.
“Let’s eat something you two.” Mercer chimed in once he had finished bandaging you and the four of you descended on the plate of food, which tasted a lot better than it appeared. The coffee was just as bitter as it smelled, but was hot and that was entirely welcome.
After the plate was emptied, Fitzgibbons looked to Mercer slowly. “Roy?”
The Captain shook his head and you swallowed your gulp of coffee painfully – of the six of you that had left the airstrip outside Rome that morning only four had made it. Two of you were injured, and your journey had most certainly only just begun now that you were captives of the German army.
As the slim shaft of light that penetrated the cellar began to fade, your companions were fetched one by one for individual questioning by the German officer who had greeted you upon your arrival. When it at last came to your turn, the sun was well set, and though you tried to pay more attention to the detail of the rustic country house, it was hard to pick out much in the low light of the sporadically placed candles.
There was a chair waiting for you opposite the desk this time and you sank into it gratefully, every muscle in your body tight with pain as it felt distinctly like someone was rubbing sandpaper over your superheated flesh with every movement you made.
“I’m terribly sorry about your radioman and pilot, must have been horribly shocking to see such things. What a terrible day you’ve endured Lieutenant.”
Shifting quietly in your chair, you shook your head as he offered a cigarette from a pack of Lucky Strikes – surely confiscated from one of your crew members as they were not so readily available in occupied Italy.
“Is there anything I can get you to ease your discomfort? Blankets? A coat? More bandages?”
Pressing your lips together in a thin line you dropped your gaze to your lap, focusing on filling your lungs to a count of three before slowly exhaling, then repeating the process. Each offer of comfort, each word of kindness was horridly tempting and yet the source also filled you with revulsion.
“It’s a far cry from Lido De Roma where you’re going, no beaches or sea air…” Your head jerked up in shock and a slow, devious smile curled onto the German officer’s thin lips as his mention of the 802nd Medical Air Evacuation Squadron’s posting finally garnered a reaction from you. “I hope you like the Alps, Lieutenant. You will see them on your way by.”
Tears of shame pricked the corners of your eyes, and you blinked them away furiously, looking to the side. Slamming his leather-clad palms flat onto the desk, you jumped and eyed him warily as he stood slowly. “If you have nothing of value to add, then?”
Inhaling slowly you repeated your name, rank, and serial number one last time – much to his ire – before he barked out an order to have you removed from the warmth of his office and returned to the cellar. This process was repeated several times at random intervals throughout the night, the four of you taking turns resting and watching for the unfriendly arrival of an errand boy soldier to haul you upstairs for another ‘chat’ with their English-speaking officer. Sometimes he was friendly, other times he was intimidating. Once he simply sat opposite you in the near-dark and glowered.
Eventually, time or patience ran out and just as the grey light of dawn began to permeate the misty winter morning, the four of you were marched as a group up the stairs and loaded into the back of a canvas-covered truck partially filled with crates. Wedging yourselves into what open spaces you could find, you had barely sat down before the vehicle lurched into motion and began its long and jolting ride to your next destination. The sun was much higher in the sky by the time you arrived at a small train station, emerging into midday, the mists long burned away. Herded across the tracks towards a cattle car, you were startled to see a group of other American soldiers – infantrymen, being loaded in.
“Up.” Came the command from the German soldier at your back and you reached up gratefully for the broad hand of corporal already in the car who helped hoist you inside.
“How the heck did you wind up here?! Ma’am…” He quickly tacked on, and you could not help but laugh a little at the bewildered expression on his face, shuffling further into the car as the last of your comrades were loaded in.
“Well the long and the short of it is, we ran into a bit of trouble during our flight…”
Captain Mercer scoffed as he came to stand behind you. “You could say that again, Lieutenant.”
The space was suddenly plunged into darkness as the door was slid shut and barred closed. You nearly toppled over as the train jostled forward, thanking Fitzgibbons as he steadied you. You embarked on a seemingly endless journey in darkness as the train ascended and descended, stopped and started, climbed and came down across unknown landscape. It was nigh impossible to see through the thin gaps between the slats of the car itself, but you knew from your ‘conversations’ with the officer that you were crossing the Alps. Could feel the air grow cold as you huddled closer to the men around you for what warmth you could glean as your breath hung from your lips in foggy exhales.
Your bladder ached until you could no longer deny needing to use the squalid bucket in the corner. Mercer, Fitzgibbons, and Schmidt formed a human wall with their backs to you, loudly clearing their throats as you took quite possibly the longest piss in the history of womankind. With that basic need met, the ravening hunger set in. Those slices of bread were long digested by the time the train came to a stop and disgorged the lot of you, blinking into the daylight like mole-people, squinting for signage.
“Moosburg.” Mercer muttered under his breath, and you hugged your arms tightly around yourself as you stumbled through the snow to form two lines as instructed by new soldiers whose uniforms sported the double lightning symbol of the SS.
You would had never thought it possible to envy a dead man, but standing there shivering in the snow as cruel-faced men in well-cut uniforms marched up and down the lines with their snarling dogs, you wondered if perhaps it would not have been better if that piece of flak had taken you out at the same time it had struck Warren. You were not entirely certain if you were strong enough for what was to come.
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April 11, 1945
Every step was an agony. It was remarkable, really, how many injuries two goons had managed to inflict on Bucky’s body in the brief moments between Buck’s escape and Lieutenant Colonel Clark’s intervention. At least two of his ribs were cracked by the butt of that rifle, severely hampering his ability to breathe properly. Then there had been the sharp kick to the back of his calf, wrenching his knee. The coupe-de-grace had been the left hook to his jaw, shredding the inside of his lower lip across his teeth and flooding his mouth with blood. If Clark had not called them off with the threat of riot, Bucky was not entirely sure he would have made it out of that village.
As it was, he had barely made it off the floor of the church the next night, requiring a great deal of prodding from DeMarco. Teeth gritted against the raw ache in every limb, every joint, he had risen to his feet through sheer force of will, knowing the alternative was a bullet to the brain. Somehow even though Buck was well on his way back to the American lines – by god he truly hoped so – Bucky could not face the thought of disappointing him by dying like that and so he had persisted. Had kept putting one foot in front of the other as they had trudged through the mud, crossing the Danube, putting another twenty kilometres between them and Nuremberg.
It had not made it any easier to keep up, however. Bucky had felt himself slowing, felt his body refusing to keep pace with the rest of the men. Every time he had lifted his eyes from the boots of those in front of him plodding through the endless muck, he had been surrounded by different faces. As he had neared the back of the group, lightheaded from pain and lack of oxygen, he had taken a second glance as he realized the faces around him were those of Brady, Cruikshank, DeMarco, Murphy, and Hamilton – all men from the Hundredth. All had been keeping pace with him.
“We’re almost at 20, Bucky.” Brady had murmured quietly under his breath, glancing back at the pair of goons bringing up the rear.
“Keep it up.” Cruikshank had nodded encouragingly.
By some miracle he had made it into the half-collapsed warehouse, crawling into a corner that was still partially covered by its patchy roof and had promptly fallen asleep. There had been a gentle prodding against his shoulder sometime later, daylight filtering in through the dust motes drifting thickly in the air and an offering of bread had been waved in front of his face. He had pushed it away clumsily before falling back asleep. Bucky’s next return to consciousness had been with his arms slung across the shoulders of DeMarco and Brady, a great amount of protest falling from their lips about the size of him.
It had been dark again. Darkness meant more walking and so he had awkwardly planted his feet. Relieved sighs had filled his ears from both his companions as the three of them worked together to propel him out of there and down the muddy road. Night had yielded to the hazy light of dawn and at last a sea of barbed wire fences, clapboard buildings and canvas tents came into view. Bucky had quite honestly never been so pleased to see a Stalag in his entire existence.
“Almost there.” Groaned Hamilton, who had since switched off with DeMarco, though the stalwart Brady had yet to budge from beneath his right arm.
As they stepped through the gates into the main courtyard, Bucky lifted his head to eye Clark blearily. “Guess they’re not gonna process us.” His words were slightly slurred as he tried to present his usual level of joviality, but the man’s brows only furrowed deeply in response.
“Get him to the hospital immediately.”
There was a chorus of ‘yes sirs’ and some hesitation before Hamilton and Brady got their bearings, but then they were on the move again. Bucky’s legs were barely responding by this point, toes mostly dragging through the incessant muddy landscape that seemed a consistent feature of every Stalag he’d had the misfortune of visiting thus far. As his vision began to go fuzzy, black dots eating away at it while it simultaneously began to dim at the edges, Bucky began to worry this might be his last camp.
“Put him right there please.”
Bucky tried to swing his head towards the most musical sound he had heard in over a year, but Hamilton and Brady were turning him to lay on his stomach, rambling about the broken ribs on his back and all he could see were worn wooden floorboards. Until suddenly your gorgeous face flooded his vision as you knelt beside his cot, your shockingly feminine fingers cradling his face to gently turn it and ensure he was not smothered in the pillow.
The style of your hair, the lashes framing your eyes, the cupid’s bow of your upper lip – the unmistakable womanliness of you; it made his heart ache.
“Must be in heaven…” He slurred as there was certainly no way he could be alive anymore. Women did not exist in this reality of underfed men and murderous goons.
“They got you good, Major, but you’re still very much with us.” You smiled warmly up at him, and he groaned out a laugh, eyes crinkling at the corners.
“You’re killing me, angel face.” He wheezed, lips clumsy and barely responsive, before promptly blacking out.
------------
Your heart plummeted as you watched his eyelids fall, shuttering those stunning, if exhausted, blue eyes, terrified you had lost another one before you even had the chance to try and save him. Fingers delving beneath the collar of his shirt, you were greatly relieved to find his strong pulse. Holding your cheek in front of his notably plush lips, the bottom one all the more pronounced by his recent injury, you were even more encouraged to feel the caress of his steady breathing. Sitting back on your heels, you nodded up to his mismatched pair of friends reassuringly.
“Did he just call her ‘angelfish?’” The blond one with angular features and a mouthful of gold muttered as they watched over their friend protectively but also seeming shocked, as everyone before them had been, to find an American woman in a POW camp.
“Maybe he was going for ‘angel face?’” The brunette with sturdy eyebrows replied in a hushed voice.
“Are you gentlemen in need of anything?” You asked, fighting hard against the amused smile that wanted to break through. They were truly a distraction when you had a patient in need of attention before you.
“No, Ma’am.”
“Thank you, Ma’am” They shuffled off to leave you to your work.
Taking a moment to assess the length and breadth of your patient, you carefully worked off his leather flight jacket before untucking his uniform shirt and undershirt to reveal the deep purple bruises on his back. His friends had been very right to be worried about broken ribs – at least three by the span of the contusion. Kneeling back down you looked over his face once more, gently lifting his head to inspect both cheeks and confirm the bones were all intact. There did not appear to be anything in need of bandaging. It was most likely that undernourishment, the march, and the broken ribs all compounded to extreme exhaustion.
“What do we have here, Nurse?”
You looked up as Major Chalmers, a British surgeon, and head of the hospital emerged from one of the exam rooms. He had been a resident POW of Stalag VIIA for nearly eight months when you arrived in January, happily surrendering one of his exam rooms to become your separate quarters in return for your work in the camp hospital. It was an arrangement that benefited both of you, kept you safe and out of the male population and occupied the long and lonely hours that seemed to pass at their own pace in this place.
Chalmers had done what he could to care for your burned arm, re-bandaging it daily. However, by the time he had been able to start giving it proper care, the damage had already been done. The skin was now permanently mottled by scars, unnaturally smooth, with a texture akin to crumpled cellophane. You were always very mindful to keep your mended sleeve down to your wrist. It was not all that difficult to cover your shame when the rest of your wardrobe consisted of standard men’s POW wear from the Red Cross – the sweaters draping over half your hands and the winter coat blissfully warm but nearly swallowing you whole.
It was only due to Chalmers’ temerity that anyone walked away from the camp hospital at all. With supplies chronically low, men were dying of the most preventable and treatable things. All you could do most of the time was put on a brave face and hold their hand, give them a little comfort at the end. Even Schimdt, despite your best efforts, had found his shoulder wound quickly beset with infection in the less than sanitary environment. Penicillin was non-existent here and he had faded fast, lost in a feverish delirium as you held tight to his hand, watching the light fade from his burning eyes. Your brave façade was second nature to you by this point, showing itself more often than your real, bedraggled self who only showed her face in the cold isolation of your locked exam-room-turned-solo-combine at night.
“Newly arrived American Major, force marched over eight days, beaten two nights ago. At least three broken ribs, damage to lower lip, abrasions to the face and contusions to the back but nothing else I can see. Pulse is strong, breathing is steady, but lost consciousness almost as soon as we laid him down, sir.”
“Hmmm.” Chalmers made a noise of displeasure at the last and conducted his own exam, digging out one of the makeshift charts to add some notes before glancing at his watch. “Do we know when he last ate?”
“No, sir.” You shook your head.
“Alright, I want you to sit with him and keep an eye on his vitals. Hopefully, he’s simply sleeping this off, but I want you to get some water and broth in him as soon as he wakes up alright?”
“Yes, sir.”
Collecting the requisite liquids, you settled onto the sliver of floor space between the Major’s cot and his neighbor’s, working at folding some boiled and dried bandages, now ready for re-use. The actual hospital itself was unspeakably crowded, men nearly stacked atop one another around a small cast iron stove. Originally built for 10,000, the camp’s population had been well over that when you had arrived in January and seemed to multiply every week now. Things had become so dire, a tent hospital had been erected adjacent to the building you lived and worked in to allow for the treatment of more men. It was crowded and ripe, and even surrounded by all these humans you still felt alone as the sole representative of your sex.
As you pulled each strand of once-white fabric from the basket, carefully rolling and tucking the ends to form neat bundles, you studied the unconscious man’s face. Errant dark curls were dangling across his tall forehead and the most absurd and yet endearing dusting of hair graced his upper lip. Clearly, he was going for a Clark Gable, but it was not quite there. Even with one ear poking a mile out to the side, however, you swallowed tightly as you realized you would not change a thing about him. Taken individually his attributes seemed odd, yet combined to make an incredibly handsome whole. Not to mention his feet were dangling off the end of his cot, his shoulders barely contained by the sides of it. If he woke up, no when he woke up, he was going to be a devastating sight to behold.
Reaching the midway point of your task, you slid forward onto your knees to check his vitals, pleased they were holding steady and noting so on the chart, before settling back onto the floor. You had nearly reached the bottom of the basket when a pair of boots entered the hospital. Not German, you had long since become familiar with the way jackboots reverberated across wooden floorboards. Most likely American or British. Peering around the end of the bed your eyes widened as you caught a glimpse of a silver oak leaf – a Lieutenant Colonel! That was the highest rank you had yet to encounter in camp.
Struggling to disentangle yourself from your laundry and not kick over your patient’s waiting fluids in the process of trying to rise to your feet and accord the man the proper greeting that his rank entitled him, you looked up startled as he addressed you first.
“At ease, Nurse.”
He was the first man to seem utterly unfazed by your presence and you somehow found that unspeakably reassuring.
“Thank you, Colonel.”
“How is Major Egan?” He peered down at the still very much asleep man.
“Major Chalmers, our Surgeon, is certain it is no more than a case of exhaustion and he will recover with rest and fluids upon waking. He’s just down the hallway behind you there if you’d like to speak to him yourself, sir.”
He nodded thoughtfully as he glanced over his shoulder before looking back to you. “The Red Cross knows you’re here?”
“I filled out the card when I arrived in January, sir.” You nodded.
“Where have they put you?”
“Converted one of the exam rooms, sir. I eat, sleep, bathe separately.”
“Good.” He nodded in return, seeming quite satisfied with your answer. “Name’s Clark, please find me if you need anything.”
“Thank you very much, Colonel.” You smiled warmly, feeling strangely fragile as the warmth of it actually emanated from deep inside you rather than a mask plastered on for the comfort of the recipient.
Dismissing himself from your presence with one sharp nod, he turned to follow your directions down the hall, most likely in search of Chalmers. Turning back to eye your patient, Major Egan, you sighed a little as he remained blissfully unconscious, lips parted against the thin pillow to allow heavy exhales to fall rhythmically. There was little change to his condition as the sun made its way across the sky before hovering at the horizon, preparing to set. Your dinner was delivered to the bedside and there was a rather heated exchange between Chalmers, Clark, and a few of the guards before they conceded you could remain unlocked for the night to keep an eye on your fragile patient. This Lieutenant Colonel was obviously not someone to be trifled with.
You waved off Chalmers when he asked if you were up to the task, taking advantage of his presence to make a quick bathroom run and fetch a blanket before returning to your post. It was your first night spent amongst others in months, their soft snores and nightly noises combining with the sound of rain pattering onto the ramshackle roof to do their very best to pull you under into sleep. The downward slide of your eyelids was halted abruptly by the first vocalization from Major Egan since his contested term of endearment – angel face? Angelfish? Whatever it had been, silence had since reigned over his mouth until he began to mutter and emit soft sounds of protest, his features tense and furrowed. Shifting up onto your knees, you lay one hand over his clenched fist, trying to smooth the crease in his brow with the thumb of your other.
“It’s alright Major Egan, you’re safe.” You soothed in a hushed whisper, hoping to dispel whatever unseen terror was plaguing his thus far peaceful sleep.
He shifted slightly in response, lips smacking a little as his hand moved with alarming speed to engulf yours in a tight grip and hold it close to the side of his chest. Barely smothering your gasp of surprise, you held your breath a moment until he stilled completely, features relaxing and breath evening out as he slipped deeper into sleep once more. Exhaling slowly you gnawed on your lip a moment before shifting to sit on the floor with your back against the cot, hand still very much held captive by his. Allowing yourself to drift a little more, quite certain any movement on his part would now alert you to his wakening, you barely noticed the hourly checks the goons were making on you – clearly uneasy about having you roam free amongst the hospital patients, but for whatever reason Clark’s demands had been honored and it was a refreshing change around here.
It was just before dawn of the following day when Major Egan began to shuffle and groan behind you, your hand slipping free from his. You straightened stiffly, turn to watch him roll onto his uninjured side and take stock of his surroundings.
“Good morning, Major, have a good rest?” You asked quietly, hoping not to wake the others sleeping around him.
His head immediately snapped down towards you and he eyed you in bewilderment once again. “I thought you were a hallucination.” He rumbled, voice roughened by disuse.
You smirked slightly and nodded. “I got that impression. Thirsty?”
He bobbed his head in a small nod, and you slid to your feet, grasping his elbows to help him sit up. Grabbing the mug from the ground, you offered it to him, only allowing him to take a small sip before pulling it back. He blinked at you sluggishly for a moment before you offered him the mug again. After three limited sips, which he clearly found frustrating, you allowed him to keep hold of the mug as you wrapped your fingers around his thick wrist to track his pulse.
“How long was I out?” He asked once you were finished noting your findings on his chart.
“Almost a day. Seems as though you really needed the rest. Ready to try a little broth?” You smiled as he nodded once more and picked up the other mug from the ground. “I saved you some, I’ll get it warmed up.”
He slowly lay back down as you took the mug of broth over to the stove in the centre of the room and set it on top, swirling the liquid until it was steaming and then decanting it into his now empty water mug so it would not burn his hands. As you returned to his bedside, he leveraged himself up with barely concealed, painful effort and you frowned as you set the mug in his hands.
“I’m here to help with that, Major.”
“Please,” he took a sip of the steaming liquid, “call me Bucky.”
You smiled and introduced yourself properly as well before your lips tugged into a mischievous grin. “But do feel free to keep calling me angelfish, I certainly haven’t gotten that one before.”
He choked a little on his next sip, giving you a rueful albeit lazy smirk. “Kick a man when he’s down why don’t ya, angelfish.”
You were unsuccessful in smothering your answering giggle, several of the men around you muttering and tossing restlessly as you had accidentally woken them. Bucky pressed a long finger to his lips teasingly before turning back to his broth, slowly finishing it before setting the empty mug on the floor beside the low cot.
“I uh, am sure the facilities are lacking but…” He raised an eyebrow meaningfully and you swallowed, gesturing for him to follow you, and assessing his movements with your medically trained eye.
It was of course a test, of his balance, pain level, and energy to see how he moved across the floor and into the rustic patients’ washroom. You, of course, left him to his own devices in there, but walked him back to the bed, noting how he grew stiffer with each step.
“I’m sorry we don’t have anything for the pain.” You whispered when he lay down once more on his stomach, small grunts of discomfort escaping him.
He shook his head. “S’fine, angelfish.” He mumbled softly, sleep tugging at him again already as you tucked him in with the worn blanket.
“Rest then, Bucky.” You soothed, relieved that he was quite cognizant, able to keep his food down, and resting well.
This one might make it.
-------------------------
Read Part Two
The Only Truth I Know Is You Masterlist
Tag list: @gretagerwigsmuse, @luminouslywriting, @softspeirs, @sunny747
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v-akarai · 4 months
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References in Servamp
Arabian mythology
Jinn. Ch. 16
Greek mythology
Elpis. Ch. 75
Moirai. Ch. 108
Pandora. Ch. 130
Pygmalion. Ch. 123
Pandora's Box. Ch. 97
Japanese mythology
Gashadokuro. Ch. 129
Kitsune. Ch. 3
Raijin. Ch. 85
Norse mythology
Baldr. Ch. 39
Freya. Ch. 65
Frey. Ch. 131
Gleipnir. Ch. 101
Hati. Ch. 91, 131
Hod. Ch. 39
Hliðskjálf. Ch. 96
Idunn. Ch. 65
Loki. Ch. 15
Mimir. Ch. 29
Mjölnir. Ch. 53
Ragnarök. Ch. 101, 122, 131
Sigurd. Ch. 101
Thor. Ch. 41
Yggdrasil. Ch. 42
Biblical references
Abel. Ch. 8
Adam. Ch. 128
Boaz and Jachin. Ch. 42
Eden. Ch. 21
Eve. Ch. 1
John the Baptist. Ch.122
Lucifer. Ch. 135
Nod. Ch. 29, events
Hinduism
Asura. Ch. 57.5, 89.
Tarot
The Fool - Mahiru. Ch. 50
I. The Magician – Night trio. Ch. 41
II. The High Priestess – Mikuni. Ch. 42
V. The Hierophant - Shuhei. Ch. 77
X. Wheel of Fortune - Junichiro. Ch. 53
XII. The Hanged Man - Tsurugi. Ch. 50
XV. The Devil – Shamrock. Ch. 72
XVI. The Tower - Touma. Ch. 47
XVII. The Star - Iduna. Ch. 73
XVIII. The Moon - Yumikage. Ch. 69
Literary references
 "Alice's Adventures in Wonderland" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 3, 4, 7, 19, 98, 122. Misono, Lily, Dodo, Mitsuki, Yamane, Hattori, Mikuni, Bad B and Good B.
"As You Like It" William Shakespeare. Ch. 10, 38.5. Mikuni's spell.
"My Fair Lady" English nursery rhyme. Ch. 10 Mikuni's spell.
"Dracula" Bram Stoker. Ch. 12, 30. Hugh.
"Romeo and Juliet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.
"Faust" by Johann Wolfgang von Goethe. Ch. 29 Johannes.
"Through the Looking-Glass" Lewis Carroll. Ch. 29, events. Mikuni, Johannes.
"Julius Caesar" William Shakespeare. Ch. 23 Hyde.
"Strange Case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde" Robert Stevenson. Ch. 23, 37. Hyde, Licht.
"Macbeth" William Shakespeare. Ch. 24, 31. Kuro, Saint Germain, Mahiru.
"Night on the Galactic Railroad" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 26. Higan.
"The Little Prince" Antoine de Saint-Exupéry. Ch 30, 67. Kuro, Mahiru, Sloth demon, Gear, probably Jeje.
"Hamlet" William Shakespeare. Ch. 33, 34. Hyde, Ophelia.
"The Phantom of the Opera" Gaston Leroux. Ch. 36 Licht and Hyde technique.
"Peter and Wendy" James Barry. Ch. 44, 56, 74. Tsurugi, Touma, Mahiru.
"Ring a Ring o' Roses" nursery rhyme. Ch. 53 Junichiro's spell.
“Peter Pan in Kensington Gardens” James Barry. Ch. 53, 75. Tsurugi, Touma.
"Death in Venice" Thomas Mann. Ch. 55 Gilbert technique.
"Total Eclipse" a play by Christopher Hampton. Ch. 55 Rayscent's technique.
"The Morning of the Last Farewell" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.
"Spring and Asura" Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 57.5 Tsubaki.
"The Catcher in the Rye" Jerome Salinger. Ch. 62 Shuhei.
"Four and Twenty Blackbirds" Agatha Christie. Ch. 62 Shuhei's spell.
"Metamorphosis" Franz Kafka. Ch. 62 Shamrock technique.
“The Nighhawk's Star” Kenji Miyazawa. Ch. 62, 76. Shamrock technique.
"Rock-a-bye Baby" an English lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.
“Schlafe, mein Prinzchen, schlaf ein” lullaby. Ch. 70 Touma's spell.
"Who Killed Cock Robin" an English nursery rhyme. Ch. 70 Yumikage's spell.
"The Wonderful Wizard of Oz" Lyman Frank Baum. Ch. 70, 88. Tsukimitsu brothers’ spells.
"Daddy-Long-Legs" Jean Webster. Ch. 74. Dark Night Trio, Touma.
"The Divine Comedy" Dante Alighieri. Ch. 118, 120, 121. Niccolo, Ildio, Gluttony demon.
“A Brute's Love” (人でなしの恋) Edogawa Rampo. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.
"Coppelia" ballet Leo Delibes. Chapter 122 Mikuni, Lily.
"Salome" Oscar Wilde. Ch. 122 Mikuni, Lily.
"Turandot" opera by Giacomo Puccini based on the play by Carlo Gozzi. Ch. 129. Lily's technique.
"The Tempest" William Shakespeare. Ch. 131. Licht and Hyde.
"The Old Man and the Sea" Ernest Hemingway. Ch. 134 Hugh.
"Flowers for Algernon" Daniel Keyes. Ch. 135 Hugh.
"Jane Eyre" Charlotte Brontë. Ch. 136. Hokaze.
"Madama Butterfly" opera by Giacomo Puccini. Ch. 136. Lily.
"Hansel and Gretel" the Brothers Grimm. Ch. 140. Faust and Otogiri.
Music
"Für Elise" by Ludwig van Beethoven. Ch. 34
"Jesu, Joy of Man's Desiring" by Johann Sebastian Bach. Ch. 125
Movies
"It's a Wonderful Life" (1946). Ch. 131
"Life is Beautiful" (1997). Ch. 131
I believe this list can be expanded. Somewhere I’ve written only chaps when some reference was mentioned for the first time and omitted all further mentions.
Special thanks to hello-vampire-kitty, joydoesathing and passmeabook, because some works wouldn’t be included in the list without their observations.
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ohdorothea · 1 month
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hoax: a web weave - part one (part two)
1. hoax 2. ME! 3. the 1 4. All Too Well 5. Babe 6. Better Man 7. Paper Rings 8. High Infidelity 9. Maroon 10. Dress 11. right where you left me 12. Maroon 13. cowboy like me 14. Hits Different 15. King of My Heart 16. willow 17. Tell Me Why 18. Teardrops On My Guitar 19. I’m Only Me When I’m With You 20. illicit affairs 21. ‘tis the damn season 22. hoax 23. Getaway Car 24. Look What You Made Me 25. Call It What You Want 26. Look What You Made Me Do Music Video 27. Tell Me Why 28. Daylight 29. The Archer 30. Run 31. Better Man 32. Slut! 33. Say Don’t Go 34. Foolish One 35. I Don’t Wanna Live Forever 36. cardigan 37. Tell Me Why 38. hoax 39. Forever Winter 40. Style Music Video 41. It’s Nice To Have a Friend 42. This Love 43. Out of the Woods 44. Hits Different 45. coney island 46. Anti-Hero 47. ME! Music Video 48. The Archer 49. Haunted 50. ivy
51. hoax 52. right where you left me 53. this is me trying 54. Nothing New 55. The Way I Loved You 56. King of My Heart 57. evermore 58. coney island 59. Hits Different 60. exile 61. champagne problems 62. All Too Well 63. betty 64. hoax 65. Death By A Thousand Cuts 66. willow 67. So It Goes… 68. Cruel Summer 69. Tell Me Why 70. Bad Blood 71. Say Don’t Go 72. closure 73. long story short 74. High Infidelity 75. Daylight 76. tolerate it 77. Death By a Thousand Cuts 78. hoax 79. Daylight 80. The Archer 81. I Bet You Think About Me 82. 22 83. Treacherous 84. Wonderland 85. Better Man 86. Message In A Bottle 87. hoax 88. Would’ve Could’ve Should’ve 89. Change 90. ivy 91. Getaway Car 92. State of Grace 93. Maroon 94. The Great War 95. The Story of Us 96. Cornelia Street 97. Wonderland 98. Anti-Hero 99. So It Goes… 100. Dear Reader
101. False God 102. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince 103. Afterglow 104. evermore 105. my tears ricochet 106. hoax 107. Holy Ground 108. ivy 109. Dancing With Our Hands 110. Look What You Made Me Do111. Wonderland 112. right where you left me 113. Tell Me Why 114. mad woman 115. the lakes 116. The Great War 117. Cold As You 118. I Knew You Were Trouble 119. hoax 120. long story short 121. Don’t Blame Me 122. this is me trying 123. Red 124. Jump Then Fall 125. seven 126. This Is Why We Can’t Have Nice Things 127. gold rush 128. the last great american dynasty 129. hoax Lyric Video 130. the lakes 131. hoax 132. Is It Over Now? 133. Clean 134. Teardrops On My Guitar 135. Wonderland 136. seven 137. The Outside 138. Tell Me Why 139. illicit affairs 140. Come In With The Rain 141. Dancing With Our Hands Tied 142. Cornelia Street 143. champagne problems 144. The Other Side of the Door 145. Getaway Car 146. champagne problems 147. cardigan Music Video 148. Cruel Summer 149. hoax 150. If You’re Anything Like Me poem
151. mirrorball 152. White Horse 153. False God 154. I Knew You Were Trouble 155. Cornelia Street 156. False God 157. Love Story 158. Style 159. ivy 160. End Game 161. cowboy like me 162. White Horse 163. Ours 164. The Great War 165. False God 166. ivy 167. How You Get The Girl 168. coney island 169. Hits Different 170. Innocent 171. Look What You Made Me Do 172. You’re On Your Own, Kid 173. It’s Nice To Have a Friend 174. White Horse 175. Don’t Blame Me 176. betty 177. hoax 178. …Ready For It? Music Video 179. Hits Different 180. Forever Winter 181. All Too Well (10 Minute Version) 182. Everything Has Changed 183. Dress 184. Cruel Summer 185. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince 186. Paper Rings 187. Afterglow 188. The Archer 189. Lover 190. Dear John 191. State of Grace 192. Starlight 193. hoax 194. Bejewelled 195. Question…? 196. peace 197. Miss Americana and the Heartbreak Prince 198. Forever and Always 199. Say Don’t Go 200. Hits Different 201. Bigger Than The Whole Sky 202. Wonderland 203. Lover Music Video
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trickricksblog08 · 2 months
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𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗚𝗶𝘁𝗺𝗼 𝗟𝗶𝘀𝘁: 𝗧𝗵𝗼𝘀𝗲 𝗪𝗵𝗼 𝗕𝗲𝘁𝗿𝗮𝘆𝗲𝗱 𝗧𝗵𝗲 𝗨𝗻𝗶𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗦𝘁𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗔𝗺𝗲𝗿𝗶𝗰𝗮
Where They Go One They Go All
1. Hillary Clinton
2. Bill Clinton
3. Nancy Pelosi
4. John Podesta
5. John Brennan
6. James Comey
7. Maxine Waters
8. Adam Schiff
9. Hunter Biden
10. George W. Bush
11. Dr. Anthony Fauci
12. Huma Abedin
13. Bill Gates
14. Anthony Wiener
15. George Soros
16. Lindsey Graham
17. Mitch McConnell
18. Kevin McCarthy
19. Chuck Schumer
20. Kamala Harris
21. Robert Mueller
22. Mike Pence
23. Joe Biden
24. James Clapper
24. Lloyd Austin
25. Dick Cheney
26. John Kerry
27. Alexander Soros
28. Loretta Lynch
29. Andrew McCabe
30. Peter Strzok
31. Lisa Page
32. James Baker
33. Eric Holder
34. Tony Podesta
35. Susan Rice
36. Harry Reid
37. Paul Ryan
38. Debbie Wasserman Schultz
39. Sally Yates
40. Mitt Romney
41. Jerry Nadler
42. Klaus Schwab
43. Michelle Obama
44. Sally Yates
45. Andrew Cuomo
46. Herbert Raymond McMaster
47. Deborah Birx
48. Mark Zuckerberg
49. Nikki Haley
The17Letter
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longwuzhere · 10 months
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Here are some cool Easter eggs that I found the newest My Adventures with Superman episode, "My Interview with Superman" Links to my first two easter egg posts for episode 1 and 2 are here and here.
Link to my episode 4 easter egg post is here
Link to my episode 5 easter eggs post is here
Link to my episode 6 easter eggs post is here
Link to my episode 7 easter eggs post is here and here
Link to my episode 8 easter eggs post is here
Link to my episode 9 easter eggs post is here
Link to my episode 10 easter eggs post is here SPOILERS if you have not seen the episode of course:
We start off the episode with an Amazo Tech blimp crashing into a building in Metropolis
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You don't see a lot of blimps in Metropolis. Gotham is usually the one with a lot of blimps flying around. If you saw the episode on Adult Swim when it premiered on air you'll know that the next episode involved Professor Anthony Ivo and Amazo Tech. Throughout the previous episodes and this one, the Amazo Tech brand is shown to set up next week's episode. After the scene we go to a break in at Stryker's Island (more on that location later) as we see one of the villains for the episode Mist...
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and one of his partners...
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Rough House who are trying to break out...
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Shiobhan McDougal. If you know your Superman comics, you'll also know here as Silver Banshee.
Kyle/Mist is a VERY old DC supervillain from the 1940s who first appeared in Adventure Comics #47 (1941) as the arch villain to Starman. Mist's design in the comics is RADICALLY different from the show.
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MAwS modernized Mist's design compared to here in these comics panels (W: Alfred Bester, P&I: Jack Burnley, C: Raymond Perry, L: Betty Bentley). In the comic Mist's power allows him to turn his body into a gaseous form thus the name. MAwS uses Mist as someone who can turn himself and objects invisible (lowkey when Mist showed up I was like "is that Luminus from Superman the Animated Series?") Fun fact in the comic, we don't know what Mist's last name is. All we know is that his name is Kyle and in the show that is what Rough House calls him on accident but at least he has a last name, McDougal in MAwS.
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Rough House makes his first appearance in Adventures of Superman #544 (1997) (W: Karl Kesel, P: Stuart Immonen, I: José Marzán Jr., C: Glenn Whitmore & Digital Chameleon, L: Albert DeGuzman) where we see him rip open a door with his bear hands as a member of Intergang (more on them later).
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Siobhan McDougal aka Silver Banshee makes her first appearance here in Action Comics 595 (cover by John Byrne). In the comics Silver Banshee's powers are a lot different than how MAwS does it. Comics Silver Banshee has the Banshee Curse giving her powers like flight, super strength, a death stare, and of course her signature thing, the Death Wail, a sonic scream that can knock someone into a coma or it outright kills them. The version in the show gives Silver Banshee her signature sound manipulation powers through a mask...
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which kind of invokes her comic counterpart's skull face design.
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Mist and Rough House break into Stryker's Island to free Mist's sister Silver Banshee (in the comics Mist and Silver Banshee have no familial connection). Stryker's Island makes its first appearance in Superman #9 (1987) (W&P: John Byrne, I: Karl Kesel, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) where Joker arrives in Metropolis to challenge Superman. Stryker's Island is supposed to be a stand in for Riker's Island in New York even though there is a Riker's Island in the DC Universe because Metropolis is often a reflection of New York City.
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The next Easter egg is the scene after where Lois name drops Waid's Cafe as a reference to...
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Mark Waid, one the best writers in the comic book industry. In terms of DC work, you might recognize his writing credit on Flash with artist, Brian Augustyn (we miss you Brian), Kingdom Come with painter, Alex Ross, and Superman Birthright with artist, Leinil Yu (highly recommend checking out all three titles). He's also currently writing for Batman/Superman: Worlds Finest with artist Dan Mora, which I also HIGHLY recommend reading. Fantastic writer, super nice person if you ever meet him at a convention.
Later, Jimmy is heard screaming "back you monsters" and we see some more of the Daily Planet staff...
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From left to right its Cat Grant (doing the anime high society lady laugh), who runs the celebrity and gossip side of the paper, Steve Lombard, who reports on sports, and Ronnie Troupe, the investigative journalist on the team. Their names were mentioned in the previous episode after taking Lois, Jimmy, and Clark's credit for the Superman piece.
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Cat Grant make her first appearance here in the Adventures of Superman #424 (1987) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: Jerry Ordway, I: Mike Machlan, C: Tom Ziuko, L: John Costanza) as a potential love interest to Clark to shake up the Clark-Lois-Superman dynamic. You might've seen her in the live action CW Supergirl show. Like in MAwS, in the comics Cat does the gossip columns writing for the Daily Planet.
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Steve Lombard makes his first appearance in Superman #264 (1973) (W: Cary Bates, P: Curt Swan, I: Murphy Anderson) as a foil to Clark Kent. Steve acts very brash and rude to contrast Clark's mild manner and friendly demeanor. Later iterations of Steve give him the mustache that becomes part of his signature design.
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In MAwS, Ronnie Troupe is a gender swap of Ron Troupe in the comics who makes his first appearance in the Adventures of Superman #480 (1991) (this page specifically, W: Jerry Ordway, P: Tom Grummett, I: Denis Rodier, C: Glenn Whitmore, L: Albert DeGuzman). Like his MAwS counterpart, Ron is an investigative journalist and very level headed. He was the first to break the story about Cyborg Superman meeting the then PoTUS, Bill Clinton.
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A news report on TV in the Daily Planet shows Bethany Snow of Channel 52 News reporting about the break out in Stryker's Island. The logo for Channel 52 News reminds me very much DC's 2005 logo.
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As for Bethany Snow and Channel 52 News, Bethany made her first appearance in the New Teen Titans #22 (1982) (W: Marv Wolfman, P: George Perez, I: Romeo Tanghal, C: Adrienne Roy, L: Ben Oda) as a news reporter and follower of the Brother Blood cult.
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Later iterations and retcons had Bethany Snow as just a reporter where she does the Channel 52 news in the back end of DC comic titles in 2013.
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Freddie E. Williams II is the artist for these as Channel 52 was way to let readers know what is happening in other DC titles that they might want to check out with other DC characters reporters accompanying Bethany as seen in the promotional art with Vartox, Ambush Bug, and Calendar Man. Obviously MAwS redesigned Bethany Snow but they at least kept her occupation.
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A quick one but we see Lois call Clark "Smallville" a nickname that has been used in various media involving Clark and Lois.
After news report on TV, we cut to Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House in their hide out where they name drop their group name, Intergang.
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In the comics and other media, Intergang is a world wide crime syndicate who is supplied with powerful high tech weaponry from the evil New Gods of Apocalypse, if you know your DC universe, that is everyone is Darkseid's circle. Intergang first appeared in Superman's Pal, Jimmy Olsen #133 (1970) created by LEGENDARY artist Jack Kirby.
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Here in Forever People #1 (1971) (W&P: Jack Kirby, I: Vince Coletta, L: John Costanza), you can see they have direct contact with Darkseid. Originally led by Morgan Edge, later versions of Intergang had leadership change from Joe Danton to Max Danner. Post-crisis, Intergang is led by Bruno Mannheim (the Intergang boss that I am familiar with), his father Moxie Mannheim would later lead Intergang. Current continuity in DC has Bruno still be the leader of Intergang.
In the episode we learn that MAwS version of Intergang is very small time. Siobhan, Kyle, and Rough House rob convenience stores and make smash and grab runs. But maybe MAwS will move Intergang in the criminal syndicate direction in the future who knows.
After the Intergang scene we cut to Lois, Jimmy and Clark walking up to the front of Stryker's and Jimmy mentions something interesting about convincing the warden to spill on the government's... (read Jimmys quote in the screenshot to complete the sentence)
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The term meta-human has its roots in the DC Universe if you did not know! The term was first used here in Invasion #1 (1988) (W: Keith Giffen and Bill Mantlo, P: Todd McFarlane, I: P. Craig Russell, C: Carl Gafford, L: Gaspar Saladino)
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In the comic, the Dominators discover that certain humans have what is known as the meta-gene which grants them powers when under a lot of duress and so to test this they rounded up a group of humans and experimented on them with only 6 surviving who gained powers. The Dominators conclude that the human population must be eliminated or there will be a rise in meta-humans on Earth.
How does the government, according to Jimmy, connect to all this. is a possible nod to one of the plot points in Doomsday Clock where the idea that 90% of DC's meta-humans are from the US and they have been engineered by the government. This conspiracy, in the comic is known as the Superman Theory.
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This here is one part of the back matter you can read at the end of Doomsday Clock # 5 (2018) (W: Geoff Johns, P&I: Gary Frank, C: Brad Anderson, Back Matter Design: Amie Brockway-Metcalf). Later the trio, specifically Lois, steals the warden's ID badge and were able to access where Siobhan was kept. On the ID the warden's name is Agatha Zorbatos, who's first appearance in the comics was in Batman #23.4 (2013), as the warden of Blackgate Penitentiary in Gotham
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Obviously her design in the comic is drastically different from how she looks in the show. The one on your right is from Batman Eternal #4 (2014) (Story: Scott Snyder & James Tynion IV, Script: John Layman, Consulting Writers: Tim Seeley & Ray Fawkes, P: Dustin Nguyen (my favorite comic book artist of all time), I: Derek Fridolfs, C: John Kalisz, L: Rob Leigh).
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At the climax of the episode we see more of the alien crystal that Superman encountered last episode from the tech that MAwS Intergang used and it strangely looked familiar. I wouldn't be surprised if the animation team were fans of Neon Genesis Evangelion especially with the way the robots were designed in the first part of episode one and here how the crystal reshapes itself like the angel Ramiel. Also since I'm at my 30 image limit here and I can't post anymore, I also want to point out that the poster that Siobhan has in her cell was a cat with the words "Believe it" over its head I like to believe that is a Naruto reference because the dub has Naruto say "believe it" all the time. I guess I'm gonna be doing the Easter Eggs and references for each episode so expect this to be a weekly thing. I hope you all enjoy my doing this If you made it down here and want to see my first two easter eggs and reference posts for episodes one and two are here and here.
My post of episode three's easter eggs is here
My post of episode five's easter eggs is here
My post of episode six's easter eggs is here
My post of episode seven's easter eggs is here and here
My post of episode eight's easter eggs is here
My post of episode nine's easter eggs is here
My post of episode ten's easter eggs is here
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girlbloggercher · 2 months
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how to read the Bible
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this is in order!
1. John
2. Mark
3. Matthew
4. Luke
5. Genesis
6. Exodus
7. Leviticus
8. Numbers
9. Dueteronomy
10. Romans
11. Galatians
12. Colossians
13. Proverbs
14. Ecclesiastes
15. Job
16. 1 Peter
17. 1 Corinthians
18. 2 Corinthians
19. Ephesians
20. Philippians
21. 1 Thessalonians
22. 2 Thessalonians
23. 1 Timothy
24. 2 Timothy
25. James
26. 2 Peter
27. 1 John
28. 2 John
29. 3 John
30. Jude
31. Psalms
32. Joshua
33. Judges
34. 1 Samuel
35. 2 Samuel
36. 1 Kings
37. 2 Kings
38. 1 Chronicles
39. 2 Chronicles
40. Ezra
41. Nehemiah
42. Jeremiah
43. Lamentations
44. Ezekiel
45. Joel
46. Amos
47. Obadiah
48. Nahum
49. Habakkuk
50. Zephaniah
51. Haggai
52. Zechariah
53. Malachi
54. Micah
55. Hosea
56. Luke
57. Esther
58. Jonah
59. Song of Solomon
60. Acts
61. Titus
62. Philemon
63. Hebrew
64. Isaiah
65. Daniel
66. Revelation
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howtofightwrite · 2 years
Note
This is probably not the right blog to ask, but I'm not sure where else: is there a way to write a convincing hitman? Any obvious do's or don't's?
Well, first off it's important to remember that most of the assassins you're familiar with from pop culture are pure fantasy. There's no real world analog for characters like John Wick, Leon (The Professional), Vincent (Collateral), or 47. They belong to a theoretical tier of professional assassins that (probably) don't exist.
I'm going off a 2014 article from The Howard Journal of Crime and Justice, but unfortunately, it's been pay walled sometime in the last 8 years, so this is going to be mostly from memory. The authors classify assassins into four groups: Novices, Dilettantes, Journeymen, and Masters.
Novices are the amateur assassins and hitmen. These aren't really killers for hire, so much as just people who like the idea of getting paid for killing someone. When novice hitmen have ties to local criminal enterprises, it's really easy for police to identify them, because they generally don't travel to commit their crimes. Everyone in the (criminal) community, usually has a pretty good idea who the killer was, and no real interest in protecting them.
Novices who manage to pull off a couple contracts without getting caught graduate into Dilettantes. Again, not a lot to say here, these guys come from a mix of backgrounds. They're not really professionals, but they do commit the occasional killing for pay.
Journeymen are professionals. They may be ex-military, or they may simply be career criminals. As with Novices and Dilettantes, they're likely to stay close to home, which, in turn, makes them relatively easy to identify during criminal investigations. When you're looking at organized crime hitmen, they're likely to fall into one of these three categories. Street level soldiers who get tapped to carry out a killing are usually novices or dilettantes, a criminal enterprise might have some journeymen further up in the organization, at their disposal.
Masters might not exist. These guys have military, intelligence, or specialized backgrounds, they travel some distance to kill their targets, and then they disappear and head home. Here's the problem. All realistic investigation of professional assassins is based examining the failures (something, mentioned in the referenced article.) This means, if someone doesn't screw up, avoids detection, and escapes capture, we don't know anything about them. We only know about the assassins that are stopped or caught. So, let's look at those four fictional characters for a moment.
Wick is a pure fantasy character. He exists in a world with a massive conspiracy concealing a secret society of assassins, that are so well entrenched they mint their own currency. Keanu Reeves is worth watching (in the first film) for his movements, dude moves like someone with a serious combat background. The actual assassin component of the story is just thin connective tissue to tie one fight scene to the next. It's visual art and absolutely worth watching, but not because the writing makes sense.
Leon (Jean Reno, The Professional), is in the range of a journeyman. He operates exclusively in New York, and while it's not (completely) clear how he came to become a hitman, he illustrates some of the problems associated with staying in a specific geographic area. At the same time, not a terribly realistic character, and the idea that the more advanced you, the closer you get to your target is just goofy. It makes for some excellent film, but, if your job is to kill someone, you're not getting paid more to garrote them, than to put a round of .308 through their skull from two blocks away. In fact, you're probably getting paid much less, because your odds of getting out after things go sideways are almost nil.
Vincent (Tom Cruise, Collateral) is probably the most realistic prototype for a master on this list. Through the course of the film, we never get a lot of information about his background, but what little we know is that he travels. His preferred MO is to set someone up as a fall guy for his killings. He arrives in a city, receives his weapons, and intel on his targets, runs them down, and then gets out of town. He has some kind of military, possibly special forces, background. Given he's creating a reasonable cover for his activities, and given that he's getting in and out very quickly, it's plausible someone like that could exist. The most unrealistic element is just that he could carry out so many high profile killings in a single night, multiple times.
47 (David Bateson, also Timothy Olyphant and Rupert Friend, Hitman... all of them), is a bit of a nightmare scenario, but he illustrates something very interesting that has some theoretical realism to it. Now, for those who are unaware, 47 (sometimes Agent 47, or Codename 47), is the player character of the Hitman game series. (Olyphant and Friend played him in the film adaptations.) You can play the character as a complete psychopath, gunning down everyone in your path. There's not much realism in that approach. Beginning with the second game, the series started integrating a scoring system which prioritized killing as efficiently or creatively as possible. Now, creative kills were in the first game, but the only incentive was that they were often far easier than running and gunning. In it's current incarnation, the series has a strong emphasis on finding ways to eliminate targets in ways that appear accidental.
So, we have an assassin who specializes in getting in and out undetected, killing their targets in ways that appear accidental, and travels all over the world. Do you have any how hard it would be to prove someone like that existed?
Now, before I go on, I should point out, there's an inherent absurdity to the games. 47 is a 6'2” tall bald white dude with a bar code on his neck, and no one ever notices when suddenly the sushi chef gains six inches, loses his hair, changes ethnicity and happens to be the last person to be seen near the target who suddenly died of fugu poisoning. It's a running joke in the series that 47 can flawlessly blend into any crowd so long as he's wearing the right outfit.
At the same time, the hilarious thing about that joke is, it's real. When Tom Cruise was preparing to play Vincent in Collateral, something he did as personal prep was to disguise himself in a UPS uniform, and deliver packages in public. This included getting into an extended conversation with someone, without being recognized. This was in 2004, in Los Angeles, he was already a household name at this point. So, while Hitman turns the costumes swaps into a joke, there's a disturbing level of reality to that mechanic, if you look like you belong, people tend to assume you belong.
The original Hitman did have an interesting touch that the later games moved away from: You had to repurchase the weapons you wanted to take with you on each mission. So, there were no forensic ties between his guns from one killing and the next. There's a slight irony because the 1911s 47 carries are a semi-rare variant (AMT Hardballers, usually called Silverballers in game), so he's regularly discarding some fairly expensive, high-end, handguns. At the same time, he's getting paid enough to cover that, though, maybe, a slightly more common 1911 variant would probably be less conspicuous.
So, yeah, master assassins probably don't exist in the real world, and most of the assassins we know about tend to stay close to home, but if an assassin does travel, it would make identifying them significantly harder. Also, be instantly suspicious if your gardener suddenly turns into a 6'2” bald, white dude with a bar code on the back of his neck.
-Starke
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konigsblog · 9 months
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NSFW prompts for call of duty (modern warfare 2)
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characters i write for; simon ghost riley, john soap mactavish, kyle gaz garrick, john price, alejandro vargas,. rodolfo parra, philip graves, könig, horangi)
if you're going to submit a request, mention which character is included. [“they” = character name]
minors dni // mentions of kinks, scroll if you're below the age of 18**
༉‧₊˚. **please give credits if you use my prompt list** ☄️
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you have an oral fixation
they have an oral fixation
double penetration
having wax used on you (wax play)
using wax on them (wax play)
praising them
being praised
degrading them
being degraded
cockwarming
armpit sniffing
spanking
choking them
being choked
slapping them
being slapped
giving them a blowjob
having them eat you out
hair pulling
teasing them
being teased
shower sex
exhibitionism
dacryphilia
being fingered
giving them a handjob
katoptronophilia
sex tape
pet play
voyeurism
fucking them with a strap
cock worship
body worship
face fucking
stomach bulge
tentacles
somnophillia
glory hole
loss of virginity
taking their virginity
cock & ball torture
size difference
dumbification
orgasm denial
pussy slapping
primal play (you're the hunter)
primal play (you're the prey)
mommy kink
daddy kink
brat taming (brat)
brat taming (tamer)
gun play
knife play
discovering you have a breeding kink
WRITTEN ⭒
frank woods (8, 9, 13, 14, 15, 16)
ghost and könig (3, 28, 35, 43)
könig (9, 24, 28, 39)
könig (35, 36)
simon ghost riley (24, 37, 53)
captain mactavish (50)
sergeant mactavish (54)
könig (1, 24, 26)
könig (35, 39, 42, 43)
john price (14)
simon ghost riley (40)
john price (9, 14, 34, 44)
könig (21, 43, 44)
simon ghost riley (24, 43)
john price (42, 11, 25)
valeria garza (45, 48, 51)
könig (12, 17)
gaz garrick (11, 29, 59)
sergeant mactavish (5, 47, 28)
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message me if you want anything added, but check my boundaries on my ‘about me’ beforehand, otherwise it'll be ignored or deleted. 🎀
– KONIGSBLOG ༉‧₊˚.
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80s-music-tourney · 3 months
Text
Polls list for the 80's music tourney
Round One
1. Walk This Way vs. Maniac
2. In The Air Tonight vs. Private Dancer
3. How Soon Is Now? vs. Never Ending Story
4. Just Like Heaven vs. Never Gonna Give You Up
5. Birthday vs. Holy Diver
6. With Or Without You vs. Fuck Tha Police
7. Karma Chameleon vs. Radio Ga Ga
8. Gold vs. Falling
9. Dancing In The Dark vs. Just A Friend
10. You Got It (The Right Stuff) vs. Ashes To Ashes
11. Eighties vs. Dear God
12. Hungry Like The Wolf vs. Jump
13. Love is a Battlefield vs. Once In A Lifetime
14. Rock The Casbah vs. Fast Car
15. Take On Me vs. You Spin Me Round (Like A Record)
16. 99 Luftballons vs. Nasty
17. Under The Milky Way vs. Ghost Town
18. Invisible Touch vs. One
19. Ghostbusters vs. Cloudbusting
20. John The Fisherman vs. Livin on a Prayer
21. Eye Of The Tiger vs. Head Like A Hole
22. You’re The Voice vs. Ace of Spades
23. Come On Eileen vs. Wrathchild
24. Beat It vs. Chariots of Fire
25. Walk Like An Egyptian vs. Personal Jesus
26. Money For Nothing vs. It’s The End Of The World As We Know It (And I Feel Fine)
27. We Didn’t Start The Fire vs. Sweet Dreams (Are Made Of These)
28. Never Tear Us Apart vs. Back In Black
29. Paradise City vs. Dead Man’s Party
30. Fight For Your Right vs. Whip It
31. Who Can It Be Now? Vs. Rebel Yell
32. Smooth Operator vs. Wake Me Up Before You Go-Go
33. Free Fallin’ vs Sledgehammer
34. Blue Monday vs. Blister In The Sun
35. Mickey vs. Everybody Wants To Rule The World
36. Call Me vs. Don’t You Want Me
37. Holding Out For A Hero vs. I Wanna Dance With Somebody
38. Can I Kick It? vs. Peace Sells
39. Raspberry Beret vs. Where Is My Mind?
40. Breaking The Law vs. Kickstart My Heart
41. I Melt With You vs. Epic
42. The Killing Moon vs. Cities In Dust
43. Teen Age Riot vs. Pour Some Sugar On Me
44. Girls Just Wanna Have Fun vs. Raining Blood
45. Don’t You (Forget About Me) vs. Push It
46. We Built This City vs. Relax
47. I Wanna Be Adored vs. Kokomo
48. Libertango (I've Seen That Face Before) vs. Dare To Be Stupid
49. Hip To Be Square vs. Every Breath You Take
50. Africa vs. Love Shack
51. Faith vs. Plastic Love
52. The Look vs. Self-Control
53. It’s Raining Men vs. Flashdance…What A Feeling
54. 9 To 5 vs. She Drives Me Crazy
55. This Corrosion vs. Nazi Punks Fuck Off
56. Valerie vs. Our House
57. Owner of A Lonely Heart vs. Heaven Is A Place On Earth
58. Like A Virgin vs. I’m Gonna Be (500 Miles)
59. Ahora Te Puedes Marchar vs. I’m Coming Out
60. Out Of Touch vs. Sunglasses At Night
61. West End Girls vs. Every Little Step
62. Scarface vs. Simply Irresistible
Bonus Round 1
Bonus Round 2
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johnsbleu · 1 year
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hold my hand masterlist ♡
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warning: Hold My Hand is an explicit work of fiction, and is intended for audiences 18+
Under the cut are all of the chapters of hmh so far, along with Instagram edits and playlists. I will be adding to it with every update. BOLD indicates newest chapter. AO3
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Chapters:  1 2&3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20  21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 32 33 34 35 36 37 38 39 40 41 42 43 44 45 46 47 48 49 50 51 52 53 54 55 56 57 58 59 60 61 62 63 64 65 66 67 68 69 70 71 72 73 74 75 76 77 78 79 80 81 82 83 84 85 86 87 88 89 90 91 92 93 94 95 96 97 98 99 100 101 102 103 104 105 106 107 108 109 110 111 112 113 114 115 116 117 118 119 120 121 122 123 124 125 126 127 128 129 130 131 132 133 134 135 136 137 138 139 140 141 142 143 144 145 146 147 148 149 150 151 152 153 154 155 156 157 158 159 160 161 162 163 164 165 166 167 168 169 170
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Instagram AU: 1 2 3 4 5  6 7 8 9 10  11 12 13 14 15  16 17 18 19 20 21
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Playlists: HMH playlist John’s bookbinding playlist
AO3
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Blessed Are the Forgiven
A Maskil of David.
1 Blessed is the one whose transgression is forgiven, whose sin is covered. 2 Blessed is the man against whom the Lord counts no iniquity, and in whose spirit there is no deceit.
3 For when I kept silent, my bones wasted away through my groaning all day long. 4 For day and night your hand was heavy upon me; my strength was dried up as by the heat of summer. Selah
5 I acknowledged my sin to you, and I did not cover my iniquity; I said, “I will confess my transgressions to the Lord,” and you forgave the iniquity of my sin. Selah
6 Therefore let everyone who is godly offer prayer to you at a time when you may be found; surely in the rush of great waters, they shall not reach him. 7 You are a hiding place for me; you preserve me from trouble; you surround me with shouts of deliverance. Selah
8 I will instruct you and teach you in the way you should go; I will counsel you with my eye upon you. 9 Be not like a horse or a mule, without understanding, which must be curbed with bit and bridle, or it will not stay near you.
10 Many are the sorrows of the wicked, but steadfast love surrounds the one who trusts in the Lord. 11 Be glad in the Lord, and rejoice, O righteous, and shout for joy, all you upright in heart! — Psalm 32 | English Standard Version (ESV) The Holy Bible, English Standard Version. ESV® Text Edition: 2016. Copyright © 2001 by Crossway Bibles, a publishing ministry of Good News Publishers. Cross References: Genesis 19:16; Genesis 24:48; Exodus 15:1; Leviticus 26:40; Judges 5:1; Ruth 1:13; Job 30:11; Psalm 7:10; Psalm 18:16; Psalm 22:1; Psalm 25:8; Psalm 31:10; Psalm 46:1; Psalm 64:10; Matthew 6:12; John 1:47; Acts 13:11; Romans 2:9; Romans 4:7-8; 2 Corinthians 5:19; James 3:3; 1 John 1:9
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