#escaping form houdini

[ah0yh0y]

friendly reminder that Audrey Rose  Wadsworth is poc and south asian specifically indian

#audrey rose wadsworth #cressworth #thomas cresswell #i cant not tag them both togehter i feel as if thomas will eb ver offended if i dont tag him wiht his wife #stalking jack the ripper #sjtr #escaping form houdini #capturing the devil #fanart #i just want to see poc audrey rose please in fanart #SHE ISNT WHITE #SHES BIRACIAL #south asian representation #desi rep

[youremyheaven]

Random Vedic Astrology Observations

Adele who is Ardra Rising and Lana Del Rey who is Ardra Sun both have a Paradise tattoo on the side of their hand

This is very interesting symbolism because Ardra nakshatra is preceded by Mrigashira nak which follows the fall from Paradise.

2. Pisces natives 🤝🏼 sculptures

L to R

Rihanna- Revati Stellium (including Moon & Rising)

Ava Gardner- Ketu in (1 degree Pisces) Purvabhadrapada

Bella Hadid- Ketu in UBP

Rosie Huntington Whiteley- UBP Mercury & Rahu, Mars in Purvabhadrapada (0 degrees Pisces) and Jupiter in Revati atmakaraka

Jin- UBP Moon

Isabelle Adjani- Revati Rising

Salma Hayek- UBP Moon

3. Jyeshtas really love jewellery

Vidya Balan- Mercury in Jyeshta (atmakaraka)

Rekha- Jyeshta Rising

Kim Kardashian- Jyeshta Rising

Nicki Minaj- Jyeshta Sun

4. I'd earlier made an observation about how Mars influenced men tend to go after older women and I thought I'd add a few more examples to that list!!

Sachin Tendulkar & Anjali Tendulkar have an age gap of 6 years and their wedding was hugely controversial when it took place in the 90s. Sachin was only 22 when he got married.

Sachin has Mars in Dhanishta atmakaraka and Moon in Purvashada amatyakaraka

Shikhar Dhawan and his ex-wife Ayesha Mukerji have an age gap of 10 years.

Shikhar is Dhanishta Rising, Mars in Chitra atmakaraka with Purvaphalguni Moon

Arjun Kapoor and Malaika Arora have an age gap of 12 years

He is most likely Chitra Rising

He also has Venus (amatyakaraka) conjunct Rahu in Bharani

I know that Bharani is Venus ruled but Bharani is the confluence of Mars & Venus energies and is ruled by the Mars ruled Aries and is another nakshatra that commonly appears in the charts of men drawn to older women

Aditya Pancholi is 6 years younger than his wife Zarina Wahab

He has Sun in Purva Ashadha, Venus amatyakaraka (in Jyeshta) Jupiter in Bharani and Rahu in Mrigashira

Karan Singh Grover is 6 years younger than Bipasha Basu

He has Moon in Dhanishta, Mars (amatyakaraka) conjunct Saturn (atmakaraka) in Chitra with Ketu in Purva Ashada

Vicky Kaushal is 5 years younger than Katrina Kaif

He has Venus in Mrigashira, Mars in Dhanishta, Jupiter (amatyakaraka) in Bharani, Ketu in Purva phalguni

Farhan Akhtar and his first wife, Adhuna Akhtar have an age gap of 7 years.

Farhan has Sun (atmakaraka) conjunct Mercury (amatyakaraka) in Purva Ashada and Saturn conjunct Ketu in Mrigashira

5.

idk if im crazy but i think these 2 women have similar features 😭😭

Zhou Xun is Chitra Sun, Anuradha Moon, Swati Mercury, Chitra Venus & Mars

Ning Ning is Chitra Sun, Bharani Moon, Swati Venus and Ketu in Anuradha

6. Rihanna has a tattoo of Goddess Isis on her chest

Rihanna is Revati Moon and Goddess Isis had powers like love, healing, fertility, protection, wisdom and magic. By virtue of her magical knowledge, she was said to be "more clever than a million gods". Revati nakshatra natives are endowed with divine spiritual wisdom and the deity of Revati, Pushan is the Sun-god in the form of Divine Guide and Nourisher, who helps us to find the right path and leads us to the right solutions.

Revati represents wisdom, empathy, unconditional love, fertility, growth, prosperity & spirituality.

7. Harry Houdini was a Hungarian-American escape artist, illusionist, and stunt performer, noted for his escape acts.

He has UBP Sun, Mrigashira Moon, Venus in Revati (exalted) and Ketu in Swati with Shravana Rising

Swati is connected to Maya or illusion so it makes sense as to why someone who has Ketu placed there would become notorious for hoodwinking the public.

Mrigashira nakshatra involves HEAVY themes of running away, escape and being trapped AND finding a way out. If you look at the mythology, its about Brahma's favourite daughter who takes the form of a deer to leave the heavens and run away to the earth to escape her father's sexual advances towards her.

Pisces rashi is almost always present in the charts of magicians or people who have some kind of illusory appeal on the public. Most mega successful celebrities have prominent Pisces placements, most supremely talented actors and singers do. The ability to put yourself out there yet remain completely mysterious and keep people under a veil is a uniquely Piscean trait.

Obviously with that Shravana Asc, he was basically born for this job. Moon dominant people are ADEPT at manipulation and making black seem like white or vice versa.

Dua Lipa recently released a song titled Houdini and she's Punarvasu Moon which I think is another nakshatra that is good at casting illusions.

#sidereal astrology #astrology notes #vedic astro notes #astrology observations #vedic astrology #nakshatras #astro observations #astro notes #astrology #astroblr

[biandbitheyearsgobi]

never made a post like this in my life and maybe never will but I just need to put it out there that I had a dream that Loki and mobius kissed. it was glorious. mobius couldn't remember his life in the tva so Loki kissed him out of desperation and at that moment everyone's memories of the tva came back and it was just glorious. I remember being shocked in my dream because I never thought marvel would do it. I'm devastated now because I know it most likely will not happen. dreams are a cruel form of escapism and baby I'm Houdini.

#loki #loki series #loki season 2 #lokius #mobius

[shiorimakibawrites]

The Escape Artist (Part 2 of Alley Cat)

Image Credits: kissthemgoodbye.net/Amber Kipp / Nathan Dumlao

Pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!Reader

Word Count: 1237

Summary:  Houdini is a sneaky sneak. You are (maybe) flirted at. You awkwardly flirt back. Sort of. Kinda.

Warning(s): Awkward flirting?

Series Masterlist

The Escape Artist

When you came home that night, tired after another long day at the office, you were relieved when Houdini didn't rush the door.

Instead he remained on the couch, looking like he had just woken up from a nap, and gave a soft meow of greeting. After setting down your bag and kicking off your heels, you picked up and cuddled your cat. His purring and soft, warm body was just the stress relief you needed. He grumbled a little when you put him back down but quieted after being given his nightly treat. He seemed content to remain, napping nearby while you made your dinner and ate.

It was only after your shower that you realized that he had been luring you into a false sense of security.

New York City was never quiet. There was always a hum of activity but you had been living in the city long enough for that hum to become white noise. There but not really noticeable unless it changed. A siren would start wailing. A car with very squeaky brakes might shriek by. Drivers would get into a short but intense horn-blowing contest. A shouting match would erupt. All perfectly normal.

So it took a minute for you to notice that those normal and expected sounds were less muffled than they normally were from inside your apartment. You frowned, looking around in confusion

So after you got out of your shower, it took a minute for you to notice that those normal sounds of the city sounded less muffled than they normally did from inside your apartment. You frowned, looking around in confusion.

And that's when you saw it. Your bedroom window – the one you knew had been shut and locked earlier – was open. Not all the way but certainly high enough for something like a cat to squeeze through. You darted toward the window, pushed it the rest of the way up, stuck your head out and looked down.

Sure enough, through the darkness and the grating of the fire escape, you could just make out the familiar form of Houdini already a couple floors down. How he managed to do that without falling off was a mystery but not one you were concerned with at the moment.

“Houdini, get back here!” You yelled. In typical cat fashion, he ignored you completely. You swore and contemplated going after him. However, there were a couple of problems with that idea.

One, the little bugger was really fast. You probably won't catch him before he got to the bottom and disappeared. Second, even if you did catch him, you'd have to figure out how to carry a squirming cat up the fire escape. Third, you were wearing neither socks or shoes and that slightly rusty metal didn't look at comfortable for bare feet. Taking the time to grab said foot coverings only gave Houdini more time to escape and he already had a head start.

You might be able to intercept him at the bottom, if you took the elevator to the ground floor. But that would mean going into the alley late at night. You looked toward the ground and bite your bottom lip – anyone could be hiding in those shadows. Daredevil was (probably) on patrol but he could anywhere in Hell's Kitchen . . .

A indignant yowl interrupted your train of thought. You were even more confused when that yowl was followed by a tirade of feline profanity. The mystery was soon resolved when out of the shadows came Daredevil climbing the fire escape with a rather irate Houdini tucked under one arm.

Your jaw dropped. You didn't know how to react. Again, of all the ways you thought you might encounter the Devil of Hell's Kitchen, this particular scenario had never entered your mind. Mostly because there wasn't even a hint of Daredevil being the rescue cats from trees type of hero. He was the put the fear of God into people kind of hero.

It didn't take the vigilante very long to get up your fire escape.

“Evening” he said before gesturing to the grumbling cat under his arm. “This yours?”

His voice was still deep and low but he was apparently far too amused to maintain the growling rasp.

“Y-Yes,” you answered. Then, because your brain-to-mouth filter had ceased to function, said, “I didn't know you also wrangled cats.”

“I'm a man of many talents,” he said and there was something about his voice that almost seemed . . . flirty. Was he flirting with you? That couldn't be right. Men this handsome didn't flirt with you. Ever. An average-looking person like you was practically invisible to someone so beautiful. And he was a superhero. While you had never meet any of the other heroes in the city, you were pretty sure that they didn't flirt with you either.

“I'm sure,” you said and fought the urge to cringe. That had come out breathier than you had intended because, despite the fact you were sure he wasn't flirting with you, it still flustered you. Still sent those tingles down your spine. Because you wanted it to be flirting. You wanted him to find you as attractive you found him. Which only made you feel even more awkward than usual. Because how likely was that?

His answering grin was all kinds of smug but he didn't say anything further, just held out the sulking cat.

“Hang on a minute,” you said before turning to grab a blanket. Houdini seemed calm but you knew from experience that he could turn into a ball of fur and razor blades in an instant. You flopped the blanket on the cat and wrapped him like a burrito before taking him back. Houdini accepted this state of affairs with minimal grumbling.

“T-thanks for catching him,” you said. “K-kinda of surprised you didn't get bit. Houdini isn't fond of picked up by strangers.”

“He tried,” Daredevil said. “Unfortunately for him, my suit is cat-teeth resistant.”

“S-special feature?” You asked. You weren't trying to flirt. You didn't know how to flirt.

He grinned again. “Yep, paid extra for it.”

There it was again, that definitely not-flirting tone, before he sobered and said, “I hate to cut this short but I need to finish my patrol.”

You were skeptical about this first half of his sentence. Awkward conversation with a stranger was no one's idea of a good time. But the second half was plausible.

“Yeah,” you said and tried to give him your least awkward smile. “Those criminals aren't going to catch themselves.”

It wasn't all that funny but he still chuckled. “No, they aren't.”

“Guess I'll see you later?” you said and then wanted to smack yourself. Stop trying to flirt, you told yourself sternly. You're bad at it and hitting on a guy this hot is asking for heartbreak.

“I guess you will,” he said with a peculiar emphasizes on you. Then snickered.

You had distinct impression there was some kind of punchline here that you were missing. But you had not time to puzzle it out as with acrobatic flip, he was gone.

*******************************************************************************************

Houdini did not take his defeat at the hands of Daredevil lying down. In fact, he seemed to have regard Daredevil catching him during his escape to be a challenge. And your Houdini was never one to back down from a challenge.

Apparently neither was Daredevil. So far the vigilante was winning.

#daredevil #fan fic #the alley cat series #matt murdock x fem!reader

[bluetapes]

The latest episode of the Blue Tapes musical history show, Music is a form of time-travel, is available to stream or download from Soundcloud.

Features early calypso, political salsa, warm techno, post-punk and more:

Wilmoth Houdini - Stop Coming and Come

Louis and Bebe Barron - Main Titles (Overture)

Willie Colón & Rubén Blades - Pedro Navaja

Before The Storm feat. Boyd Jarvis - I've Got The Music (zanzibar dub)

Atonal - No Escape

The Fall - Two Librans

Lau Nau - Poseidon

The Blue Tapes House Band - Yeah, Sounds Like You're Siding With Doro

#calypso #salsa #techno #house #post punk #experimental music #blue tapes #SoundCloud

[xalygatorx]

Worthy (2015) | Chapter 4, "The Lightning & the Storm"

Disappearing sporadically in public spaces quickly becomes Cora Dempsey's least concerning problem when suddenly she captures the attention of the forming Avengers Initiative, the World Security Council, and Asgard's fallen prince all in one week. And the universe is only just getting started with her.

Worthy is a slow-burn SFW Marvelverse (films) romance between Loki and a female OC. For additional details on what canon is used, see the Prologue post.

Summary: The Initiative operatives regroup with Fury after losing Cora and discuss the possibility of a second, similar being in the mix. Cora asks Loki as many questions as he’ll entertain answering and starts to understand who she’s dealing with.

Pairing: Loki x Fem!OC

Warnings: None

Word Count: 3k

"I thought you had this handled," Fury assumed aloud to Clint as the archer walked back into the conference room, Tony and Steve following along behind. Tony still looked irritated by the outcome of their mission; he wasn't saying much about it, which only served to illustrate just how miffed he was.

"I thought we did, too, sir," Clint noted as they all sat down at the table. "We might've if I hadn't called Thor into action; I claim full responsibility."

"So, what exactly happened?" Agent Maria Hill asked as she sat down near Director Fury, a frown on her sternly set face as she tried to understand how things had gotten so out of hand.

As requested, Clint began to explain the backfired mission's events, from when they'd spotted her on the curb, up until he'd fallen behind in their chase through the desert. Tony took over the narrative at that point, noting boredly, "While Rogers and I were on either side of her and she 'disappeared,' my systems started going berserk. Then she fell, I went to grab her, and she swung the hammer at me."

The impact of a pin could've been heard in the spacious—and now utterly silent—conference room, and the shock on Fury and Maria's faces would've been comical were it not for the severity of the situation.

"She…what?" Fury asked edgily.

"She picked up the mystical hammer and clocked me in the face," Tony murmured irritably. "No idea what happened after that."

"What did happen after that, Agent Barton?" Maria pressed.

"She vanished," Clint finished, frowning. "But I'm not sure it was of her free will."

"She doesn't seem to have a handle on her powers, it probably wasn't her choice," Steve supplied with a small shrug, glancing down the table at Clint.

"I don't mean that, I mean she skidded backward a little before she disappeared."

"She 'skidded backward'?" Fury repeated in disbelief. "You mean to imply that there's another motherfucking Houdini out there?"

Clint smirked a little, but the expression was half-hearted. "Who knows, there might be. Maybe they're just better at being inconspicuous."

"But what you're saying is," Maria began with slightly narrowed eyes, "that someone helped her escape?"

Steve took his gaze from Clint to the two SHIELD higher-ups across the table before replying, "I think what he's saying is that someone took her."

Given her abundant thirst for knowledge, Cora could only guess that it was a mixture of shock and fatigue from the stress of earlier that had kept her from tearing the warehouse apart to figure out where she was. It was reaching evening by the time she moved to her feet to scout out a switch, all after seeing the sunlight lessening from the windows high upon the concrete walls.

It felt surreal to move around in the unfamiliar space, like if she went just a little too far, the warehouse would disintegrate, and she'd be back in the desert all over again or maybe even back in her bed at her apartment in New York. However, even as that outlandish prospect came and went, Cora knew she wouldn't be so lucky that this might be a dream. She wasn't Alice and this was most certainly not Wonderland. That was punctuated by the amount of dust that collected on her fingertips just from touching one of the neglected shelves as she passed by.

Her captor of sorts had left about a half-hour ago, seeming to be glad to have a break from her questions and the amount of demand that came with them. She didn't feel badly about her persistence; the least he could do was fork over some answers. It bothered her that she didn't know who she might be helping, nor if she really had a choice. He came off as at least slightly reasonable, but she couldn't bring herself to trust that impression. After all, he wanted something from her—something he couldn't necessarily force out of her—and she'd been able to tell earlier just from the way his white hands had curled into fists even whiter with tension that his apparent tolerance was little more than a manipulative ruse.

Switching the hammer to her left hand, she pulled out her phone and used the light radiating from the screen to check her path. Despite her numerous distractions, she was still experiencing some nausea from the turnout of the day.

Superheroes. The government had sent actual superheroes, Iron Man included, after her. Did that make her a menace now? Just because she was different and not sure how best to hide that?

Her lips pressed into a thin line and she couldn't stop the combination of melancholy and anxiety that overcame her, despite subduing it quickly. Cora's eyes fell to the weapon in her hand and the symbols that riddled the surface, though she could barely make them out in the slowly consuming darkness. Trying to get her mind off SHIELD and the danger she was potentially in, she glanced over the engravings along the edges and the circular spoke on the top. They looked like runes, but nothing she'd ever seen before.

She turned her phone away from the etchings and started to open an app for Google until she gave that some thought and snorted. Yeah, good job, Cora, I'm sure you can just type these obscure symbols in for a translation. Too bad that's not how it works… However, Cora momentarily reconsidered that and figured maybe she could do a search for different types of runes in general, then match the ones on the hammer to a set that surfaced. She was keying that in when suddenly a chill prickled up her spine.

As the threat became more real to her, instinct and panic took over when she whirled around, her fist colliding with bone, causing a small grunt to issue from the receiver of her punch. Once she realized what she'd done a few seconds later, she held up the phone a little higher and the light washed over "Loki, of Asgard," lighting up his milk-hued skin and placing tiny reflective shimmers in his eyes.

His head was tilted slightly to the left and she could only infer that her fist had landed against his jaw when he reached up to touch that exact spot, his expression one of disbelief. She'd gotten landed with the pain, it seemed; her hand was positively throbbing. "Seriously?!"

"What?" he muttered, glaring at her. "You strike me and I am at fault?"

"You snuck up on me! Don't sneak up on me!" she commanded, the startled reaction his sudden appearance had elicited in her taking her vocal pitch a few notches higher. "I could've hurled this at you and really done some damage!"

"I do not 'sneak'," he retorted as if offended before staring down the sharp angle of his nose at her. She got the impression that he didn't like even the bare potential of being overpowered; then again, she didn't know anyone who did. She lowered her phone and heaved a small sigh that drew the tension from her muscles, her shoulders falling slack.

"What is that?"

"What's what?" she blinked, looking down before realizing he must've meant the phone. "It's a cell phone," Cora replied with a frown. At his blank stare, she elaborated, "It makes calls, sends messages, you can use the internet on it…?" After evaluating his still baffled expression she tilted her head and noted, "You really aren't from around here, are you?"

"No, I am not. As I stated previously, I hail from Asgard." Loki looked down at the gadget before asking, "So it is a communicative device?"

"Essentially, yes. That's right." His curiosity over something she found so commonplace was oddly endearing. "So, what's Asgard?"

"A realm separate from your own."

"And what's my realm?"

He arched a brow down at her before remembering just how obtuse certain aspects of human knowledge were. "Your realm is called Midgard." She nodded a little before he asked with some suspicion, "What were you hoping to accomplish over here, anyway?"

"I was trying to find a light-switch." He was silent for a long moment until she clarified with a featherlight, though jeering, tone, "You flip it and things go bright."

"You needn't speak to me as if I am a fool," he murmured and his tone was spitefully unappreciative again.

"I didn't say you were. Heard of sarcasm?"

He started to smirk a little, despite an effort to restrain it. "I have dabbled in such a practice, yes."

"Somehow I think you've more than just 'dabbled' in it. Looks like we found some common ground, 'Loki, of Asgard'," she smiled as she continued to look for a switch on the walls. "Speaking of which, as an Asgardian, you wouldn't happen to have night vision, would you?"

"Not exactly," he replied, but she noticed him move his hand and turned just in time to see a lit torch spiral out of thin air in his hand. "Ah, do not touch or the illusion will fade." His tone was surprisingly relaxed as he spoke of the illusory magic, though Cora was too intrigued by the trick to notice the change. She withdrew her hand and nodded for him to lead, putting away her phone so she didn't kill the battery.

"Can everyone from Asgard do things like this?" she asked curiously as she walked alongside him.

He shook his head. "No. Just myself and my…and the Queen."

"Interesting," Cora murmured thoughtfully, squinting at the torch to try and find some sort of break in its realism. Her eyes shifted to the hammer after she gave up. "What do these markings mean?"

Loki glanced toward the head of the hammer before seeming to reluctantly divulge, "It's Mjolnir's creed."

"Is that a person?" she inquired uncertainly.

"No, Mjolnir is the hammer."

"Oh." Cora looked down a bit sheepishly. "So, it's a prophecy? Kind of?"

"In a way."

"But what does it say?" she ventured to ask, holding it out a little so he could get a look at it. 

However, he didn't even glance at the hammer before reciting a phrase he seemed to know quite well: "He who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm."

She raised a brow. "Is this well-known in Asgard?"

"It is," he said quietly, his features twisted by something that may have been hatred. "It is a considerable weapon of equally considerable power. You have not even begun to skim the surface of its abilities."

"What else can it do?" Cora asked, looking down at the mighty hammer with renewed interest.

"It may command the storm," Loki repeated bluntly, earning a short glare from Cora before he answered more seriously, "You've already explored its concentration of strength. Should it leave the hand of its wielder, it may be recalled."

Cora raised a brow and asked, "Then why hasn't its owner taken it back from me?"

The man in green and black thought that over a moment before admitting, "Its loyalty may be torn. Because it rests in a hand it proclaims worthy, it may feel little need to go to another just yet."

"Then I'm keeping it from being recalled?"

Loki smirked and gave a short, dark chuckle. "I daresay you are. Oh, to see my brother's face as he fails to bring back his trusted crutch…"

"This is your brother's?" she asked in surprise.

Loki seemed to tense, his smile fading into a grimace of distaste. "It belongs to the fool I once called my brother, though he is not…"

Cora could sense some conflict there, so she sidestepped it for the moment, trying to work through this sporadic conversation in such a way that she'd get its entire worth of information. "So, why can't you use it?"

Loki's dark eyes, flickering a little from either the fire or the magic he was using to conjure it, turned down upon the hammer before he sneered, "It does not deem me suitable." 

Cora got the feeling as he answered her that their talk-time was wearing thin. She fell quiet and looked down at the hammer with consideration, mulling over his translation in her head. She was honestly shocked she'd gotten him to answer any of her questions, but then…

She looked up at Loki and asked warily, "One more question: why are you answering my questions?"

"We are presumably on the same side, are we not?" he asked coolly, no longer meeting her gaze. "I can spare a few insignificant answers for your entertainment, I suppose, while this…alliance lasts." In his head, he corrected his word choice to "allegiance." A mortal was not on the same level as him, not even close. No matter how strange a mortal she was.

Cora thought about that. Was she on his side? She wasn't even sure what his side was. And what would happen after she'd given him the aid he was hoping for? "I'm still not sure what you need my help with."

"Claiming my rightful place in Asgard. As its king."

Her eyes widened significantly. "King?" He looked at her thoughtfully; her lack of knowledge of Asgard and what had taken place there—particularly recently—was oddly refreshing. No Asgardian would accept him as a ruler because they were predisposed to Odin and Thor, no matter their own faults. He saw a clean slate in her gaze, waiting to be written upon. "But if you're the rightful king, why do you need me?"

"I don't need you. I said—"

"You know what I meant," she muttered a little irritably as she started to reach toward a panel on the wall, only to realize it was for a garage door or another similar mechanism. Still, she took note of where it was.

Loki's brows rose at that, but he explained vaguely, "There are some issues with lineage."

"Your brother?"

"He is not my brother," he growled down at her and Cora frowned back disapprovingly. He gave pause at seeing this, having seen a similar expression on his mother's face numerous times before. All the pain and anger of his discoveries in Asgard were still raw, but the memory was enough for him to recompose himself for the time being and civilly say, "His father wants him to be king in my place."

"Why should you be king instead of him?" she inquired, idly turning the hammer over in her hands.

"I am more fit to rule. He is the epitome of brutish behavior and thoughtless strength; that has not changed since his banishment."

Cora's eyes narrowed, "He was banished and he's still going to be king? What'd he do?"

"Acted like a brute," Loki stated as if it were obvious.

"By whose standards?"

"Mine and his father's."

"Are you adopted?"

Loki blinked and gave a reflexive, "What?"

"You slipped earlier and called this other guy, the one who's next in line to be king, your brother. But you refer to this other man, who I'm assuming is king right now, as his father. So, are you adopted?"

"I was misled by the King," Loki murmured coldly. "I was made to believe that I was a part of their family, that I was their equal, when I was no more than a consolation prize taken out of pity and politics."

"What would—"

The Asgardian prince interrupted her with an exasperated sigh before noting, "Need I remind you that you said 'one more question' approximately twenty questions ago?"

"More like six," Cora replied defensively, wrinkling her nose at him. "This is all new to me." He didn't have much to say to that and another inquiry sparked in her mind. "If—hold on, what's your not-brother's name?"

Loki squinted at her before murmuring, "Thor."

"Well, if Thor's been banished and deemed unfit to rule, why isn't your not-father placing you on the throne?"

Her terminology was oddly comical, but he replied with a bitter smirk, "I am not worthy in his eyes. Thor was always the favorite… Now I know it was because he is the sole legitimate heir."

"But you're still Asgardian. And a part of the royal family. Isn't that enough?"

He shook his head. "Not quite."

"Not quite, what?"

"That's enough, mortal," he murmured with a tone of finality, though a bit wearily, scratching at his left hand.

Cora sighed, but backed off, toying with Mjolnir. "So…where did you go earlier?"

Loki gave her a look so exasperated, she may have laughed were it not for her surprisingly dire situation. She had a feeling she was still in a bit of shock, repeatedly forgetting that a government agency was after her and this apparently alien king wanted her to help him put a foreign land under his thumb. "Out."

"C'mon, King Loki, of Asgard," she teased lightly, a smirk on her lips. "I'm pretty sure before I agree to help you—and I know I have to agree because this thing isn't going to move itself—I'm going to have to trust you a little."

He seemed to be warring with himself over this, but exhaled slowly with a roll of his eyes. "There is a power source here I am interested in using to my advantage. I have been checking on it."

Cora nodded and closed the interrogation for the time being, looking at the leather-wrapped handle of the hammer with undying interest. Loki's eyes moved back to her briefly when she finally found her light-switch before he shook his head at himself and how this impulsive detour was turning out. He also began to wonder who was really in charge here.

Back at headquarters, after extensive deliberation, Tony, Steve, and Clint all filed out of the conference room, leaving Agent Hill and Director Fury alone at the table. Fury wore a decidedly grim expression and Maria noticed when she glanced over, asking, "So, now what do we do?"

"I don't know," Fury sighed as he stood up, looking none too thrilled. "But Big Brother isn't going to like this."

Next chapter: Chapter 5, Matters of Change

#loki laufeyson #loki x fem!oc #loki x oc #loki fanfic #loki fanfiction #loki fluff #thor odinson #thor movies #thor the dark world #avengers #marvel cinematic universe #angst with a happy ending #slow burn

[toyybox]

Spiderwebs #2: Firecracker

Masterlist

content: lab whump, kidnapping, gun violence

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

This is what I get for being nice. 

Jackie had a splitting headache, it was dark, and he couldn’t move much. That was something, at least. It was not comforting information. He was one of those people that saw the benefit in optimism, saw the use of it, but simply could not let go of dread. Dread, after all, kept you alive. Fear didn’t let you sink into complacency. Oh, comfort, that lovely lie. Things could always go wrong, even if he tried to close his eyes and shake it all away. And things had indeed gone terribly, horribly wrong. 

Well. It could be worse. At least he was in one piece. It would probably all be over soon, right? She would kill him sooner or later. Unless she was planning something worse. Then he was screwed. 

Shit. What had he even done? Jackie didn’t recognize the woman who’d put a gun to his head. He didn’t know much about kidnapping. Usually, the only people that went missing were young children and those involved in crime, gang members and the like. Perhaps that was a narrow worldview, but he thought it was generally true. He certainly never felt afraid of being tied up and gagged in a—what was this? A box?

Jackie looked up. There was a rod on the ceiling. He looked down. The gap beneath the door lent a thin light. A door. He looked straight forward. A doorknob. This was a closet, then. He looked side to side. There wasn’t much to take notice of, just white walls and the smell of unuse. The scent of a hotel room, or perhaps an empty venue. Pleasant but unfamiliar, and therefore unnerving.

 All this moving about set a wave of nausea flowing through him. He screwed his eyes shut and went still until it subsided. He wanted to think of an escape plan, but thinking felt like looking through boiling water, trying to grasp what lay below the bubbling and rising steam. All he wanted was to go home. Go to bed. He didn’t want to play the clever Houdini, or the victim, or whatever that lady wanted from him. 

It wasn’t like he had a choice. He felt the knots on wrists, binding his hands behind his back. They were tight. Yep. Hard, taut rope. No chance of getting that off. 

Then what?

He would wait, he decided. The moment the door opened, either he’d die or he’d find something to escape. Nothing to it. Bob’s your uncle. The cops would find him eventually, even if he was six feet under by that point, and this sudden burst of violence would not amount to much in the world. 

Luckily, he didn’t have to wait long. Another burst of nausea clawed at his head as the door opened, spilling bright light into his face with wasteful abandon. He didn’t notice the gun in her hand until it was too late.

The sound of a gun is incredibly loud, especially in enclosed spaces, and that was what startled him before the pain. Only when focusing his gaze at the barrel did he realize that a bullet had gone straight through his skull. The force of it had sent his head reeling back, knocking against the wall.

Well, then. He turned his eyes heavenward. Goodbye, cruel world… He let out a long exhale. Hm. It takes an awfully long time to die, doesn’t it? Ouch. That really hurts. Is it supposed to hurt?

The universe answered him in the form of another gunshot. 

Again, he didn’t have much time to react. It didn’t hurt any less. This really was not helping his headache. That wouldn’t be a problem for long, though…

He felt a hand at his neck, checking for his pulse. “Oh.”

Another gunshot. Then another. Then another. This lady was wasting a lot of ammo on him. He made a muffled attempt to speak, which prompted yet another gunshot. Rude. 

He made his best effort to focus on his killer. Her face was round, and her eyes were a soft shade of sable-brown, but that made them no less intimidating. Her features were packed into a scowl. Smoke was beginning to overflow from the gun's muzzle. He could smell it, an acrid metal scent, overpowering all unfamiliar niceties. He was afraid, yes, but unsure of what was scaring him. He was dead. Or dying. Halfway there, no looking back, no crossing the Jordan river. 

Her gun lowered. Her eyes fluttered, went all wide. Her scowl was still there, but not as intense—more of a slight frown, really. 

Jackie closed his eyes. He took this as a sign that things were over. He’d given life a try. He had a good run, but it was over. Nothing left to say. At least, that was what he thought before he felt a hard pain strike his head.

He let out a muffled, indignant shout. Was this woman not done? What—she was holding a baseball bat, a metal one. A real slugger, a firecracker-red thing wound with black tape that was starting to peel off. He barely had time to read the words printed on its side—Washington Whackers, how charming—before it came down on his head again. His muffled shout was louder, but no less indignant. 

A hand seized his shoulder. She was kneeling in front of him, staring straight into his eyes. 

“Why won’t you die?” she hissed.

Jackie shrugged, then flinched as the bat came down again. He could smell the blood now, and he knew the closet was probably trashed at this point. What a shame. 

She finally let the baseball bat topple to the ground. It rolled away unceremoniously. She shut the closet door, stomped away. Jackie’s headache didn’t even have time to fade before she returned.

“See this?” She shoved a jar of something glistening and red in his face. Jam? No. That was a heart. Still raw and bloody. Veins and arteries hacked away from the body, the aorta thick as a pipe, the wet and bulging outline of chambers and ventricles on its surface. His own heart skipped a beat. Looked like he wasn’t the only unlucky victim.

“Tell me,” she continued. “Can anyone live without a heart?”

He shook his head. What was her point? Was this a threat?

“Then tell me this. How did I remove your heart without killing you? Hm?” That last syllable trembled with rage. “I cut you open! How the hell are you breathing without a heart? Are you a fucking plant? How?”

Jackie wasn’t sure why this was his problem. This woman was just batshit crazy. Then again, he’d just been shot four or five times. Despite an awful headache, he was alive. Maybe he had really thick skin? Not that thick skin could stop a bullet. He’d always been quick to recover, sure, but nobody had ever shot him before. He’d never even thought about the possibility. There were cleaner methods, after all.

She pulled his gag out. It appeared to be a thick silk scarf. That couldn’t be cheap. “Answer me now, or I’ll blow your brains out.”

He moved his jaw, trying to stop it from aching. “Why’d you wanna remove my heart in the first place? Or bring me here?”

“Irrelevant.” She picked her pistol up again. “I’ll give you three chances.”

“Listen, lady, are you sure that’s my heart? Because as far as I can tell—”

She pulled the magazine out, reloaded another set of bullets while he spoke. “Two more chances, Jackie.”

“How do you know my name?”

“I’m a psychic,” she replied dryly. “Now. One last chance.”

“I—I don’t know, okay?” He glared at her, then at the pistol’s muzzle, yet again pointed at him. “I have no idea what the hell you’re going on about! Stop shooting me, for God’s sake. Maybe your bullets are cheap. That’s not my fault.”

She lowered the gun again with a sigh, as she stood up. Jackie took this moment to inspect his surroundings. The lady attempting to murder him—now pacing around the room—didn’t look particularly powerful, for sure. He could probably take her in a fight. Her apron was splattered with blood, and her silky hair had been tied back in a rough ponytail. Behind her, he could make out the fuzzy outline of a bedroom. Nothing special. A bed, a nightstand, a lamp, a single-seater sofa, a few empty rodent and bird cages, what might have been a bookshelf, and a lush white rug. All the furniture was expensive-looking, though, and very neat. 

“So.” She glanced at him.

“So.” He looked up at her. “Can I leave now?”

“And go straight to the police, right? Very funny. Just shut up. I’m trying to think.” 

The stranger had a pleasant voice, despite all the rather unpleasant things she spoke of. Pleasant like a hospital room is pleasant, polite without any sign of sympathy. Was she a hitman? An assassin? Jackie tried to avoid making enemies, but he did piss off a guy on the bus that one time. Some people just found him generally annoying. Annoying enough to kill him? It was a possibility.  The fact that she apparently removed his heart pointed towards organ trafficking. Or maybe she was a serial killer. Ooh, spooky. Jackie hoped he’d get his own podcast episode, if nothing else. 

She stopped pacing around and turned to Jackie. “Is your name Jackie Rockwell?”

Jackie narrowed his eyes. “No.”

“Really.” She gave him the most piercing look she could fathom, which was very piercing, to be fair. “Do you know what happens to captives that lie?”

“They get sent to bed without dessert?”

“They get their bones broken, that’s what. Then their eyes are gouged out. Then their tongue, their fingers, their teeth… should I go on?”

“No, I get the gist of it.” He gave her a nervous smile. “I’m Jackie Rockwell, yes.”

Her expression softened. “Right. My sincerest apologies, for all this. I don’t intend on letting you go. That doesn’t mean we have to be enemies.”

“Yeah. Right.” He supposed that laying low would be ideal. Striking out of the blue. Catching her off guard. “If I have to stay here, can’t you untie me?”

“No.” She smiled coldly. “Again, apologies.”

“Then I guess I’ll just...“ He glanced around at the closet again. It was absolutely covered with blood and bits of something he didn’t want to think about. “I’ll just hang around, yeah?”

“You’re taking this entire situation very well.”

“Thanks.” He managed a weak grin. Dread was wreaking havoc on his mind, truth be told, but he had a way of hiding it. “I don’t have to go to work, at least?”

“Who do you work for, pray tell?”

Pray tell. She’s one of those people. Rich girl with a rich vocabulary, huh? “I’m a waiter. Not great for the lower back. It would be nice to have a day off.”

“Good. Keep that optimistic spirit. It will help.” 

With that incredibly ominous piece of advice, she shut the closet door.

#yayy chapter 2 #stay tuned for chapter 3 tomorrow #whump writing #lab whump #lady whumper #my writing #whump #immortal whumpee #Spiderwebs Toyybox

[olliethescribe]

Hi everyone, I’m completely insane. I was rewatching The Clothes Don’t Make The Turtle to make a future chapter of Only Brooches more accurate (I’ve gotten a lot incorrect about The Magic Townhouse, unfortunately). This is my master list of details for TCDMTT - thought y’all would like it too.

The Magic Townhouse hosts an annual ‘Night of A Million Secrets’ - hence the masks and fancy attire. This is the year they happened to get Houdini’s journals.

So they weren’t always under TMTH - this is a new addition 

Leo would bring up that they have Houdini’s journals this year. Ron would know as every magician that works there is aware of it.

Back of ticket: “Exclusive private clubhouse for members of The Magic Townhouse. All members and guests are required to dress in evening or business attire that is conservative, formal & elegant. - The following are ALL prohibited: Casual wear or athletic attire, denim, work boots, sandals, flip-flops, shorts, rompers &” it cuts off there ):

In my AU: Ron gets his top hat from Madie (Madam?) Hats, a magician who works exclusively with animals and animal magic 

Hypno replaced so many fucking posters with his own face and visage in this - it’s hilarious 

He also depicts himself with five fingers, which is odd considering he only has four

There are several secret doors and panels - which imply multiple routes in and around the townhouse (keep in mind for Potluck - Warren doesn’t have to get trapped in a broom closet. He could get stuck behind a magic bookshelf) 

Leo is very informed on magic - is aware that Houdini is the ‘greatest illusionist in history’ and that Hypno can ‘alter the very fabric of reality’ or ‘something even cooler’

He also knows all of the secrets of the townhouse and can name the busts of each magician - knows about every secret passage (just not how to activate them)

All of the turtles have a passion for fashion - only Leo seems to be kinda chill with Hypno 

Despite all of them enjoying fashion, the turtles are typically naked

For the AU: Donnie should be the one that gives Ron advice on the magic boom box - I feel like they’d have a good time collaborating on this 

There’s a Mezmer Ron poster on the wall (:

In fact, it calls him ‘The Magnificent Mezmer Ron’

Magicians as pointed out by Leo: John The Kaiser (inventor of the pinky shuffle) - Leo is also a massive fan of his - John is not a fan of Hypno (calls him an amateur despite Hypno being established, called him a thug. This is starting to feel kinda racist /hj) - guess this bitch is also at the Potluck 

Why the fuck does every magician have an accent? 

There’s a secret vault 

It has a secret password that Leo refuses to hear

Hypno’s just stuffing those journals into his arms like a pro 

“I was so close! How did you get out of my ingenious fashion trap?” “Did you learn the power of self love in order to break free?” (He smiles when he says it)

He also smiles in a really cute way as he waves goodbye after bending reality 

“What is it with magicians and their hatred of normal doors?!” - Raph (I don’t think he’ll ever come around to like Hypno)

“Pastor-rayna” - spell that shoots cards, also traps the victim in a card

“Asotherio!” - Spell that makes paintings come to life and beat up a teenager /hj

“Deli-anais” - allows the user to escape into different containers of varying sizes and shapes 

Hypno doesn’t say a spell with Leo, is literally performing a trick for him where he saws himself in half. It’s really sweet until the other turtles show up 

Venus DeMagic - the queen of quick change - according to Leo

Love how it’s easy to tell which posters Hypno added after the fact since they’re his human form with his villain name

Hypno woke up the second those shadow hands grabbed him - he wouldn’t have screamed otherwise 

#Is there something wrong with me? Yes #Oh well - he’s my special interest - I’ll be weird if I want to be #hypnopotamus #hypno potamus #the clothes don't make the turtle #rottmnt #episode notes #no crime only brooches #this isn’t hippoworm but it does lead to hippoworm #rise hypno #rise of the tmnt

[webbywatcheshorror]

Cube (1997)

Another old fave, Cube is a movie about a group of people who wake up in a strange facility full of traps. No, not Saw 2, I said Cube. This one predates Saw, actually, which makes me wonder if it played any part in the inspiration for my other favorite trapped room related movie. If I somehow ever meet James Wan or Leigh Whannell then I’ll ask. Right after I pick my jaw off the floor.

Anywho, beasties and ghouls, let’s get to it- Review (and SPOILERS) under the cut!

I have no idea how old I was when I first saw this one, but I’m reasonably sure it was sometime in my last year as a teen or in my early twenties, so right around the time I was finally able to start dipping my toes into the world of horror. I have no doubt that if I’d seen this any younger it would have been on that list of movies that altered my brain chemistry.

This one’s a lot more psychological than Saw, in my opinion, as it’s less about seeing people mutilate themselves and more about seeing people break down to their most fundamental selves in the face of terror and paranoia. It’s the kind that sticks with me for a long time afterwards, making me wonder at who I’d become if I were stuck in The Cube.

The First Kill, played by the delightful Julian Richings, in this one is super effective at showing us what the cast will be dealing with, and as others before me have noticed, there are similar scenes in later movies (the first Resident Evil, for example) that seem to be inspired by it. If the strangeness of the opening room hadn’t already hooked me, this kill would have. Dude fell apart so fast. (ha ha because he got chopped into pieces by some kind of insanely sharp wires ha ha I’m funny)

The setting is simple: you’ve got a group of strangers in a square shaped room with six doors, one on each side, and each door leads to another room that only differs in color. And if you go in the wrong one, you die. How can you tell which one’s the wrong one? Well, probably because you’re about to die, because there’s no obvious tell.

Our cast starts out with five people- Quenten, a cop who skeeves me out in like the first few minutes of his introduction; Holloway, a doctor who is also a conspiracy nut; Leaven, a college? girl who understands numbers in a way I could never dream of; Worth, a self-described ‘just some guy’; and Rennes, a French escape artist who is taken from us far too soon. Later we get Kazan, a man with an unspecified mental illness that makes him difficult to communicate with and prone to unpredictable behavior, but has the superhuman abilities that media loves to give mentally disabled people, in the form of being even better at numbers than Leaven. (Astronomical!)

Rennes is my favorite but he has the least amount of screentime, since he gets to be The Example. He’s escaped multiple prisons, and knows what to look for. He gives the crew hope that they can beat this thing, and figure a way out, tells them to stop overthinking it and just keep moving, makes a joke about being ‘Harry fuckin’ Houdini’, then he fucking DIES. Acid to the face by a sensor he couldn’t detect. Oops! Morale obliterated.

Leaven is my next favorite, because I love when girl geniuses. She starts out delighting in the attention she gets from Quenten for figuring out a way to find out which rooms are trapped, based on numbers assigned to each room; she is, however, still a kid, so I can’t really fault her for trusting him to start with. I don’t understand math well enough to know if her reasoning is sound, but honestly, I don’t care if it is. She deserved to make it out.

Holloway is an older woman, age not provided, but she’s equal parts likeable and irritating to me personally. She’s a doctor at a free clinic and the first and only one to treat Kazan with any decency. She’s also a mega conspiracy theorist and enjoys blaming Big Government for running and ruining the world. She holds the group together for quite a while, maybe because she’s not afraid to call Quenten and Worth out on their bullshit. I respect that.

Kazan is, if you don’t consider the sequel movies, the saddest character. Why in the hell would you put someone like him in a death maze. What kind of evil do you have to possess to think ‘yeah I’ll put a mentally handicapped person in a confusing trap filled prison with strangers, at least one of which is violent when pressured’. What the fuck. This is a movie from the 90s so I’m not gonna say it’s like, good rep or anything; what is accurate is how he gets treated by everyone but Holloway. He’s an obstacle, he’s a liability, he’s not even considered a person. I’m so glad they didn’t kill him. (If you do consider the sequels, however, the way you view his character is completely different, since it’s implied that his brain has been surgically altered to make him this way. it’s a whole thing.)

Worth is also one of my favorites, but doesn’t start out that way. He’s unhelpful, snarky, and seems about ready to just give up at any given moment. When he confesses that he had a hand in making this Minecraftian nightmare, it’s understandable why. Trapped in the very thing you helped create, even if you didn’t realize what it is you were actually making. Makes a good punching bag, apparently. When push comes to shove, though, he steps up and that’s when he becomes the version of himself I like. And then of course he dies, because every character I like dies.

Which just leaves Quenten. He’s... a cop. He starts out obnoxious and overly aggressive, but that could be attributed to waking up in a weird dangerous place with unknown people; when Leaven’s number system fails and he gets hurt, his attitude changes real fast, and he’s outright hostile to everyone from that point on rather than just pushy and bossy. He treats everyone like shit unless he deems them useful, and at his core is violent and controlling. He kills Holloway for daring to accuse him of hitting his kids (guess she hit a nerve), then kills Leaven and Worth just as they reached the exit. There was no reason for this other than the fact that he clearly lost it. Also, attempted to seduce Leaven, an established minor. Absolute garbage person. (I’m not really qualified to dissect it, but it rubs me the wrong way that the one black character is an aggressive, violent psycho...)

Cube touches on one of my fears: the unpredictability of other people. There is no provable way to tell what someone really feels or what they’ll do. Everyone is different, and what indicates something like, say, rising anger in one person, could only be a sign of mild irritation in another. Being in a situation where your survival is reliant on strangers, especially when the environment is designed to stress you out and break you down, is absolutely terrifying to me.

Something I really like about Cube (again, only if you don’t consider the sequels) is that it doesn’t explain SHIT. Why was this place built? Why were these people chosen? What was the point of any of it? Cube says it’s not important. In a way this movie feels a bit like watching an ant farm, observing the way people change when they’re pushed to their mental limits. Why they’re there in the first place isn’t the point.

The end is both triumphant and depressing- While our last living protags are (for some reason???) staring out the door to their freedom, which is only available for a short time, Quenten catches back up to them and murders two of them, with only Kazan escaping. The cop at least gets what he deserves- the red smear on the inside of the Cube’s shell is a nice touch. As is his leg just sticking into frame as the camera shows Worth and Leaven, being shuttled back down into the maze.

There’s two moments that are similar to one another that I enjoy- when they realize they’re back in the room where Rennes died, and it breaks them. Worth is hysterically giggling, Leaven is in despair, and Quenten slips further into his breakdown. The second is when Leaven figures out that she’d been right the whole time- they should have stayed in the first room they gathered in, as it would have eventually been the room that led to the exit.

All that pain and death and anguish, only to wind up back at square one. I wonder if they wrote it that way for the pun, or if it’s just one of those coincidences? Speaking of puns, I give this one three squared outta ten ghosts (that is in fact nine. I had to make sure before i committed to the bit. I’m serious when I say I’m terrible at numbers.) It’s not a perfect movie, as one of my pet peeves is when characters decide to celebrate before actually confirming victory. Had Leaven, Worth, and Kazan simply left the cube the minute they knew it was the exit, they would have all survived.

Though it likely would have deprived me of that satisfying blood streak. Unacceptable.

#cube #cube movie #cube 1997 #horror movies #movie review #webbywatcheshorror #webbyreviewshorror #david hewlett

[aethershroud]

A bio for my main character, The Traveller!

Basic Information Full Name: Markus Caldwell Pedersen Nickname(s): The Traveller/Traveller/MARK-01/"Marissa" (Female persona) Preferred Name: Traveller Brief Bio: Originally lost by the machinations of The Event, The Traveller was revived by Karsum to continue his legacy, and to do some good in a wilder multiverse.

Physical Information Age: 25 Height: 6,3ft Weight: 160lbs/11 stone Species: Human/Inkling (alternate form)

Gender: Genderfluid (Male Presenting, alternate Female Persona)

Eye Colour: Red with black sclera Hair Colour: Dark brown Noticeable Features: Red beanie, navy blue jacket, black trousers, boots with steel foot caps, fingerless gloves, scar on right side of mouth, massive red scarf that wraps around face and chest

Mental Information Basic Personality: Incredibly cold and aloof, sometimes angry, but not above some forms of levity and jokes, and can lose his "cool" rather quickly Likes: Red Velvet cake, dispensing justice, killing evildoers Dislikes: Karma Houdini's, Karsum, Warmongers in general Personal Problems: Hair trigger temper, extreme self-loathing, identity issues, post-traumatic stress disorder Fears: That the multiverse may one day be overtaken - or worse, destroyed - by Warmongers Goals: To protect the multiverse from his mistakes, and perhaps one day end the Warmonger Condition once and for all

Powers and Abilities Innate Abilities:

Incredible strength

Fast reflexes

Impressive marksmanship

Special Powers:

Hysteria Form: When truly enraged, Blade "takes over" to deal with the problem. In this form, Traveller glows white with pupilless eyes and bloodied limbs, and his strength and speed go up tenfold, but it drains his life energy and can cause his body to break apart if used too long.

Inkling Form: Given by an unknown third party, Traveller can call upon Aether energies to temporarily transform him into an Inkling, with all the strengths and weaknesses that comes with.

Elemental Blast: Through channelling an element through Blade, Traveller can fire blasts of fire, lightning, water etc from his hand.

Strengths:

Incredible fighting prowess

Immune to later Warmonger abilities

High sense of justice

Weaknesses:

Fragile physically

Easy to enrage or distract due to poor temper

Incredibly bad social skills

Biography

The life of The Traveller is long and pained. Before The Event, it was him picking up the Blade of War and Turning after the death of his sister and led to the multiverse suffering heavily for it. This eventually concluded in The Event; a multi-person operation involving a Genesis Wave Device designed to wipe Markus, the Blade and Warmongers as a concept off of the map. The Event eventually did happen, resetting the multiverse and erasing any possibility for a Markus to even exist...or so they thought. Somehow, the spirit of the mangled Markus crashed into the Dark Aether, overtaking the corrupted body of a Keeper and becoming Karsum.

As the Warmonger Condition was re-established, as it flourished through the realms, Karsum realised that the multiverse still needed someone like Traveller. The light to balance the dark. To that end, he used human materials and Aether magic to create a new Traveller, a separate body built in his image. However, Traveller was horrified to find that the condition they literally ended the multiverse to snuff out was back and better than before, and he defected from Karsum and went into hiding.

Years passed while Traveller was off the grid. He found another War Lilac and travelled with her for a while, became human, struggled with his identity and trying out a number of alternate personas. Eventually he escaped to an old mining town and "retired", but not without telling War Lilac where to find him if he was ever needed again. And sure enough, it wasn't long before he was found by the War Splats. Now out of retirement, he fights alongside his "mistakes" in order to protect the worlds at large, ensuring nothing as bad as what he did ever happens again.

#warmonger #warmonger au #splatoon #inkling oc #gmod #garrys mod #the traveller #original character #oc #character bio #artists on tumblr

[penhive]

Journal Dated September 15th 2023

Sun light clinked cheers through the slit of the wall. I am introducing porngasm (from porn and orgasm) and it’s a pleasure of watching porn. Also there is pornphoria (from porn and euphoria) and also porntasy (from porn and ecstasy). A kiss is the language of flowers. Another term that I have made is clitorotatics (from clitoris and tactics). I am reading Russell’s History of Western Philosophy and I am fascinated by the Greek culture that espoused orgiastic, drunken, bacchanalian revelry. The cult of ecstasy is so carnal and sensual. Their mental state is one of orgasmosophy (from orgasm and philosophy). I am still hooked on to travelogues and since I don’t have the resources and I am window travelling. I am longing for the nights of drunkenness and sex. Yes I am a creative beatnik. Do all the cherubs created in art match those whom God created? The highest form of awareness is realization. In order to write one must read books. But I don’t read books fully and it’s a habit that I should discard. Literature is a painting of words. Legend has to shift from the status of a celebrity to self-actualization.  I am longing to escape the cycle of being broke. My wallet has to become the Houdini of money. The prodigal life is interesting and challenging. I won’t like the prodigal son squander my resources but invest them wisely. Kafka marooned the mind into an abject depression. Flesh fornicates in sin and is carnal and earthly. Mutiny  is the angst with the cannon of optimism. A fart made a faaaaaaaaaaaaaatr sound. Grass smiled at me in Green happiness. I am a mix of Prometheus and Prospero. I would love to eat the colors of the sun.  I am living life to love it. My existential philosophy is life is the celebration of meaning. Pot, Booze and Sex are cravings for the flesh. There is nothing noble about me. Whoever gives me love I double it in return. I am sad that my teenage lover ditched me. I am a staunch Christian and yes I have messed up my life but God still loves me. I am honored to be loved by God. I wish I am winning windfall bonanzas. Let travel be a muse that gives my opportunity. My philosophy of sex is sexistianlism  (from sex and existentialism). I wish to visit all the art galleries of the world. Art has given me more experience than reading. Reading is Kafkaesque. Poetry is the rhythm of life. Let the muse be my writing companion. My son was reading the Bible passage where Jesus was baptized by John. What struck me was when Jesus was baptized, the heavens opened and a dove descended upon Jesus and the heavenly voice uttered: this is my son whom I am well pleased. This phenomenon can be called as beatific aesthetics. There is a principals conference and I have begged my wife to take me. The reason is not my inclination to attend the conference but with the privacy, I can make love. I am a guy who did not have a honeymoon as when I was being married my father was fully in debt.

#Journal #Literature #Art #Aesthetics #Drabble #Flash fiction

[caljordan]

I've been thinking about Trucy bonding with everyone and finding ways to learn from them an incorporating that into her magic like you have larry  who is a very crafty person  like he built a clock that you twist and it tells time   he and trucy could workshop some tricked props together and he teaches her how to make them

then you have kay...  what does a magician and a thief have in common? Houdini  the two of them practicing escape tricks together   would like to see

hypnotism and mentalism make use of psychology  (simon and athena)

a lot of magic tricks involve chemistry (ema)

from nicole (aai2) she can learn camera tricks and editing tricks  for video form magic

so many things she can learn from her peers and then incorporate into her tricks   trucy doesnt just rope people into her found family she also ropes them into being her mentors

#trucy wright #phoenix wright #pwaa #ace attorney

[clavissionary-position]

Fic Idea Dump, volume 1.2

Vol 1.1

Today's installment is going to focus on the Historical AU prompt from Mo and Julie's AU challenge ^^ Just another set of ideas I'd brainstormed but didn't get around to writing before the deadline.

(minors dni) (contains some very literal bathroom humor o.o) (some spoilers for Vlad)

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ Chevalier Cold War-Era Submarine Captain

I think Chevalier is a powerful candidate for this setting. Submarine commanding officers are some of the most badass, stoic, unflinching people, who have to make split-second decisions under tremendous pressure (no pun intended). Do I have a kink for throwing Chevalier into do-or-die situations and making him problem-solve his way out? Yes.

While this idea was initially inspired by some incredibly tragic stories of servicemen (not just US) perishing in horrible submarine disasters after putting up a valiant fight, I don't want to romanticize those tragedies in any way. To that end, I'd like to create a unique, fictional (but reality-based) scenario for Chevalier and his crew to deal with. This, of course, will require much research. Ultimately, like with my astronaut AU, I'd like to show off Chevalier's superhuman intellect in a tangible way. I like to joke that while everyone plays 3D chess or even 4D, Chevalier plays 20D XD

Who knows maybe I'll throw Gilbert in there as an enemy commander and then bribe myself to watch Das Boot (although that's set in the WWII era).

Ooh and then maybe tell the same story again but from Gilbert's side? Seeing smart people do smart things is sexy.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ Jean 19th-Century Lighthouse Keeper

Yes, I'm cheating by having Jean remain in the 19th century and calling it a historical AU haha ^^ I've toyed with the idea of putting him in an earlier time period, but it's harder to find research material for lightkeepers the farther back I go.

I'm still trying to work out what I want the story to be for this one. But there has to be scenes of Jean doing daily physical upkeep of the lighthouse. Some shirtless manual labor here and there. Some feeding of the seagulls. I also really like the idea of the fic being epistolary and telling it in the form of logbooks written by Jean.

There's an inherent poetry to lighthouses and their keepers. There's ample space for mystery and horror as well.

(Forgive me, Jean)

What happened to Jean on that lighthouse? Where did he go? What happened to Mitsuki and his child? I hope to answer these questions and more in the alternate universe where I post completed fics instead of idea dumps : )

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ Silvio Gladiator

Initially I had Napoleon for this role, but I think many of us want to see Silvio, and he honestly feels easier to work into this setting. It also gives me a chance to explore the Silvio behind the extravagance and wealth.

This might be my debut combat sequence in a story XD But I literally thought of this today, and my gladiator-knowledge is even less than lacking, so I have no further details at this time.

Except I just did a quick google and have decided that I need Silvio to woo the reader who is the spouse of a high-ranking politician.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ Vlad Houdini-Era Escape Artist

Initially it was going to be Jean, then I changed it to Gilbert, before I remembered one of Vlad's catchphrases, and then it just clicked for me. The casual pureblood arrogance, the certainty that he can't be killed. To pair that with a career of death-defying acts is too cool to pass up.

But it's a lot more fun if he's 100% human in this. So I need to develop his god-complex from that foundation. The celebrity of being an escape artist is an easy-enough analogue for other aspects of that complex. I have a couple other thoughts on this but it would stray too much into spoiler-territory for his route.

What's so intriguing about Vlad's god-complex is that, even if he were a human, the way Vlad carries himself, he can make you believe in his death-defiability. He has such overwhelming presence in that way.

The reader in this story would be an assistant-turned-spouse. And I need them to stand with the audience, and watch what happens to him until the very end.

＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿＿ Shakespeare Medieval Groom of the Stool

Except! This position was also super highly-sought-after. I mean, yes, you probably saw some truly unholy things during your career, but you also had the monarch's ear during shitting hour and could influence them. People would apparently try to lobby(?) the groom of the stool to pass on their political agendas to the big man.

In other words, this job is perfect for Shakespeare. Yes, it's rather mean to him, but he's just trying to climb his way up the social ladder and make a name for himself in the English court.

I really want to make Comte the king but I also don't know that he has funny-enough bowel movements for this important role. But that's the power of every fanfic writer: obscene and offensive creative license.

That being said, I don't want to offend fans of Shakespeare or Comte :( Let me know if you feel this story would be too mean to them!

---

All in all, though I like to strive for some degree of realism, please expect both intentional and unintentional historical inaccuracies of these ever get written :') Thank you for reading and I hope you have a sterling day!

#ikepri chevalier #ikevamp jean #ikepri silvio #ikevamp vlad #ikevamp shakespeare #ikepri gilbert #chevalier michel #jean d'arc #silvio ricci #gilbert von obsidian #atelier writes ikeseries #tinm

[magicjesuscup]

Joel Thoughts

Spoilers below for Grayson's Book 1.

Joel is possibly the biggest karma houdini I've ever seen. I don't think we were told what his punishment was (I’m hoping that’s in Grayson’s book 2), but we know he escaped execution (and note to self: capital punishment is a thing in Invidia), which seems weird to me considering all the things he's guilty of (or at least I think he's guilty of).

In general

Two Counts of Procurement, Possession, and Use of a Magical Artifact

I'm counting this as two since the magical artifact came in a pair.

In Avari

Unknown Counts of (probably first degree) Murder

No one can convince me that Grayson was the first person Joel used his magical artifact on. He seemed to have too good a grasp on how it worked for that to be his first time. So who else could he have used it on? We're told he was stationed in Avari before coming to Colde, so I'm guessing he practiced on Avarian thaumaturges.

In Colde

Two Counts of Destruction of Property

He dropped two buildings.

Unknown Counts of Assault and Attempted Murder

I think the first building he brought down was a test. I think he wanted to see if he could do it and then tried to cover it up by pretending to be the hero. Students and possibly instructors did get injured in that, hence the assault. The second time though? I think he was trying to kill the people inside.

Happened in Colde, but is probably more important to Invidia

Possibly 1 Count of being Absent Without Leave

This depends if you believe Joel was legitimately sent to Colde. I don't for a few reasons:

If Roy's parents were sending a second valet, I imagine they would've sent a woman to look after Sherry, or at least pick up the stuff that made Grayson uncomfortable (washing Sherry's underwear for example).

MC found Joel wandering around the woods. If it were an official assignment, would've someone have given him directions and told him where to go? Better yet, told Grayson to meet him at the pier? Which brings me to my next point...

I think somebody would've told Roy, Sherry, or Grayson (especially Grayson) that a second valet was on the way rather than just surprise them with Joel.

At the very least, Joel should've had paperwork or some kind of proof of his new assignment. When he was first telling Roy, Sherry, and Grayson about being the new second valet, I was expecting him to pull out a document or something and say, "Look? See? I'm not making this up." But he didn't.

A bit unrelated, but I'm equally concerned nobody checked. Nobody in their right mind would've blamed Grayson for sending a letter asking, "Hey, did you send a second valet? Because I didn't hear anything about that, and Joel doesn't have any of the required paperwork." Roy or Sherry could've also sent a letter to their parents saying, "Thanks for sending a second valet. Joel's a good friend." The response would've been, "You're welcome," or, "What are you talking about? We didn't send anyone." Either way, they would've had their answer.

One Count of Attempted Murder

He tried to kill Grayson.

No fewer than 4 Counts of Treason

He tried to kill Roy in the cave. Joel also tried to kill Sherry 3 times. Once when he took down the building she was in, a second time when he realized that attempt failed, and a third time in the cave.

I'm surprised he wasn't considered a criminal internationally and tried in multiple kingdoms. Aside form the stuff that may have happened in Avari, students from all over Salagia were in the buildings he caused to collapse. He also fought with Fenn and Lynt. I imagine that should have consequences, even if was just community service.

#Joel #Grayson Hotz #Roy Invidia #Sherry Invidia #Court of Darkness #NOT FATE RELATED

[brooklynislandgirl]

@lokitheliesmith  {{xx}}

Beth has been owned for years now by a cat of her own, her not so little escape artist she named Houdini. Her lap is designed to be a perch. She wills herself to be as comfortable as possible, and while she does stroke the sleek black fur, she is careful not to overstimulate or push the established boundaries between them, regardless of what form Loki inhabits in the moment. This one she understands more than any Asgardian physiology xe might wear. There are times when Beth finds herself too full of the world of people and seeks a simpler existence while freely running on deer legs, or seeking her serenity beneath her Mother’s waves as the mano niuhi that she could have been naturally born as.

Her hand settles about his shoulders, deep rubs that are slow, not scruffing, whereas a one slender finger occasionally seeks out his throat, stroking from chin to chest. This is one of the endless commonalities between them, one that needs no explanation, and she will be nothing but respectful while afforded this privilege. A single brow-rise is all that she allows to express the sudden annoyance she feels toward his golden brother. On one hand, Thor reminds her of a golden retriever; all enthusiasm and lack of awareness. On the other, there has always been a casual seeming cruelty ~granted, it stems from viewing the world through Loki’s gaze~ that makes her wonder how terrible it had been growing up in the Thunder God’s shadow. Were the situation different, Andy would never let her languish in what amounts to a pampered cell, nor would he simply expect her cooperation. But is Loki telling the whole of the truth? Does he care about his home or kin? She can understand why he may not want to, but she thinks there’s more to it. Then again, what had they or their world ever done for him? “Might have been a chance to stretch ya limbs and brea’d fresh air, but I undahstand ya reluctance. In your position, wouldn’t wanna help, eiddah. I…I was t’inkin’ about seein’ if ya wan come take a walk on da balcony, feel a bit of sun on ya skin but if ya prefer, we could sit heah in companionable silence, maybe you could get some rest. I’d gladly make sure no one woke ya or disturbed ya peace.” There’s a subtle threat in the tone of that last bit so at odds with her normally passive demeanour.

#lokitheliesmith #Only A Cat of a Different Coat|Feline!Loki #And Not A Soul To Hear|Feline!Loki and Beth #Beyond Thunder|Thor AU #Blood Ties|Avengers AU #Brooklyn Stories|New York

[musings-of-a-lovesick-fool]

Hope

Character/s: Ethan Winters, Darius Lupan, The Duke

Summary: Darius Lupan, a bioweapon mercenary, reflects on his time with Ethan Winters.

Darius watched Ethan in studious silence, red eyes inspecting he and the Duke's faces as Ethan handed over crystallized skulls to the merchant. His eyes lingered on the bloodied bandages on his hand, two fingers lost to a Lycans never satisfied belly never to return. Darius flexed his gloved hands in the pockets of his coat, he wondered if he could march on so unbothered if he lost any of his dear appendages. 

Ethan Winters wasn't anything special, not on the surface level at least; not from what Darius could see. He was a normal man, with awful one-liners to boot, but Darius could feel something was bubbling just under the surface. He had felt it the moment he laid his eyes on his target, there was something off about him and it made Darius curious. He should have ignored it, curiosity killed the cat after all. 

But, in that same vein, satisfaction did apparently bring it back. 

He wasn't satisfied in the least thus far, more questions piled on top of each other as he accompanied the father through the village. He survived things humans shouldn't be able to, got up when he should have just stayed down. Darius was intrigued by the lords of the village but he could figure out their predicament rather quickly. Unfortunate souls kidnapped by a powerful woman willing to do anything to get her baby back and turned into monsters themselves. 

Monsters was, perhaps, too harsh. And hypocritical. Many would call Darius a monster, he would even agree with them but not for the fact he was a 'bioweapon' as they so called him. That alone didn't make him a monster but his line of work however could in fact throw him in with the creatures deserving of a swift death. A mercenary, paid to kill and he did so efficiently. What was he to care, innocent or guilty, humans were all corrupt in one way or another. Needlessly cruel and abhorrent in their own right. He was just doing what someone else would have eventually further down the line, in a much more merciful manner. 

Usually he would prefer the company of creatures such as the lords and indeed in the times he could leave Ethan unsupervised he found himself conversing with Donna Beneviento and Salvatore Moreau. They had been startled by his presence at first, his ability to freeze time and seemingly appear out of nowhere could be nerve wracking for most. After the initial shock they managed to have semi pleasant conversations—admittedly it was in attempts for Darius to further understand the situation he'd gotten himself mixed up in but he would admit they were endearing to entertain. 

Alcina Dimitrescu had no patience for him, his first greeting being met with her three daughters attempting to slice him to shreds with their sickles. He had made a second attempt in the form of a letter, which he saw her swiftly throw into the fire. Her reply had been heard loud and clear. A shame, he would have been interested to hear about her own experiments but his morbid curiosity would have to go unsated. 

Karl Heisenberg had been tricky to navigate, one moment grinning welcomingly the next caging Darius in metal scraps and all but interrogating him or, more accurately, less than subtly threatening his life. Maybe he garnered some interest from being able to escape the metal cage but Karl still had reasonable distrust for him, which Darius didn't help by being willfully cryptic. Their interactions thus far had been mostly hostile yet playful, Karl seeming determined to figure out Darius' apparent teleportation. Or 'Houdini Act' as he had been calling it. 

His visits with the lords made Ethan uneasy and he let Darius know, an annoying amount if Darius was being honest. He knew when it was coming at this point, Ethan would furrow his brows and his nose would wrinkle slightly as he shifted from foot to foot and glanced from Darius to whatever weapon he had in his hands at the time. Then he would continue to remind Darius he didn't trust him and Darius would boredly remind him it was for the best he didn't. 

Ethan wasn't aware Darius had a hit on him, perhaps had a suspicion but he never voiced it. He knew he was a mercenary, his nervous habit of asking too many questions as they were exploring an unsettling area of the village led Darius to answering more of them than he'd usually entertain. One of them being admittance to the fact he was only helping him because of his daughter. Darius couldn't claim to be morally correct or even bothered by morals to begin with, but he had his limits. 

Hurting children was one of those limits. 

A defenseless baby, human or otherwise, was not deserving of anything as cruel as what Ethan's daughter was currently enduring. Darius had shuddered at the knowledge of what was in the flasks each Lord held on to, he supposed that's one thing he couldn't share in common with the Lord's. He could never bring himself to be so nonchalant about such a thing. Perhaps this was a reason Ethan didn't mind having him come along, despite the blood on his hands Darius had a heart. 

Well he didn't, he would remind Ethan, much to the man's chagrin, that his heart was currently locked away in a box. But that was besides the point. 

"Darius I'm going now, are you coming?" 

Darius snaps out of his reminiscing at Ethan's tired voice, weighed down by the situation and worried for his daughter. Red eyes locked onto pale green ones and he nodded wordlessly, pushing himself off from the tree he had been leaning against and following after the blonde after bidding the Duke goodbye. Ethan was quiet as they walked, the ever present crease in his brow tighter than ever as he trekked towards Beneviento's territory. 

Darius couldn't help but be a tad bit anxious himself, ridiculous as it was. He'd barely managed to keep Ethan from slaughtering the Dimitrescu family, admittedly he had every right to do so but Darius couldn't help the empathy he felt for them. Thus, he kept Ethan safe and though there were a few close calls the mother and daughters were still safe in their castle. As enraged as they were about his escape, Darius knew Alcina would not chase them around the village and her daughter's were simply unable to do so at all. 

Darius found Donna more accommodating so he hoped he'd be able to keep the Lord alive as well as the frantic Father. He didn't know if it was wise, what he was doing. Watching Ethan's back with a steady gaze he knew there was a chance once they had all the flasks Mother Miranda could simply summon the Lord's upon the both of them. On their own they were easy to dodge and escape but all at once may prove more challenging. 

But for some reason or other he was willing to risk that and see this out to the end. 

Ethan Winters wasn't anything special, but his love for his daughter was extraordinary and Darius admired it. He didn't fool himself into thinking this would be any type of redemption for himself, one good deed in a sea of bad meant all but nothing. But despite that, as he walked side by side with the jumpy man, Darius was hopeful.

#Resident Evil Village #resident evil oc #Ethan Winters #Darius Tag #Oneshot Tag #REV Series Tag #Realised I posted this to ao3 but not here whoops #was looking at old fics and re-read this recently so