#can somehow adapt inhalation and hovering....

[das-a-kirby-blog]

I want dedede lore now. gRABBING him by the coat. your story cannot be that simple..we have figured out kirby, we are digging into meta knight's background, we can infer with bandana dee, we kicked magolor till he told the truth...now we need to know about you. I will not allow you to be more mysterious than meta knight...

[displacedcreativity]

There’s obviously a lot of chatter going on about Cruella and 101 Dalmatians and ooohhh my god errebody a lot of you don’t know the source material and I really. I really need to share a nut shelled version of the two novels (yes there’s TWO) because it’s absolutely wild from start to finish and it starts out innocent enough and then just escalates from there.  Copy pasting from my twitter thread cause as much as I love this roller coaster I don’t want to type it again HERE WE GO: To start in the original 101 Dalmatians novel, Mr. and Mrs. Dearly have that house because Mr. Dearly never has to pay taxes ever again and was gifted that house because he wiped out the government debt.  They also had two nannies - Nanny Cook and Nanny Butler. Pongo is still there, but the mother of his pups is a dalmatian named Missis.  Perdita is a dalmatian the family took in out of the rain as a 'wet nurse' to help feed the 15 puppies. Perdita apparently means lost. Cruella is also married to a furrier. Because of course.

  Perdita tells Pongo that she HAD puppies, by a dog named Prince, but her owner sold her puppies so she was out looking for them. After the puppies are stolen, and the Twilight bark reveals the location, Pongo and Missis TRY to tell the humans but fail cause they can't say S's.   Pongo and Missis go on the search for the puppies, and Perdita stays behind to watch the Dearly's. When they get to hell hall, there's 97 puppies and Cadpig is a runt and needs to be pulled along in a toy cart supplied by a 2 year old boy in order to escape. When the dogs get back to London, Cruella's PERSIAN CAT who wants revenge for the kittens Cruella drowned, lets them inside the house so the dogs can destroy Cruella's furs.  They return home and it turns out Perdita's puppies were the one's pulling Cadpig, Prince confirms! Since all the puppies were bought and paid for, and not stolen. No one is looking to get them back. Even Perdita's owner sells her to the Dearly's because fuck Perdita I guess smh. Cruella's cat is now HOMELESS because the destruction of the furs has forced Cruella to flee the country and put Hell Hall up for sale so the Dearly's adopt the cat as well. They then buy Hell Hall for their "Dalmatian Dynasty" with money earned by fixing another gov. debt.  They then adopt Prince because they see how much he still loves Perdita and Prince becomes dalmatian 101. TIME FOR BOOK 2. THE STARLIGHT BARKING. They're still living in Hell Hall and the Persian cats are married.  Cadpig now lives with the Prime Minister. Wholesome, right? Happy and cute what could the sequel to 101 Dalmatians possibly entail that's weirder than the first? MY FRIENDS. FAM. BUCKLE UP. The dogs awaken one morning to find out that not a single living thing aside from dogs can wake up. Doors, machines, etc all work on command and the dogs don't need to eat or drink or sleep.  Cadpig is now the acting PRIME MINISTER AND THE DOGS CAN COMMUNICATE VIA THOUGHT WAVES. They soon discover that they can 'swoosh' which is basically hovering over the ground at high speed. So, I mean, flying. They can basically fly. So Pongo and Missis SWOOSH to London with about 50 other dalmatians to meet with PRIME MINISTER CADPIG. But WAIT. Tommy, the kid from the first book, and the farm crew and the Persian cat from the first book are discovered to ALSO be awake because they were dubbed "honorary dogs" after helping the dalmatians in the first book. Because fuck the Dearly's I guess they're just PETS. The Persian cat thinks this is all Cruella's fault somehow so they pull together a team to go to Cruella's home to KILL HER. But she and her husband are both asleep like everyone else. She's now obsessed with metallic plastic and not furs. So they spare her life.  And then! A mysterious voice comes onto the t.v, alerting all dogs that they must all gather tonight by midnight under starlight. The Twilight bark and the TELEPATHY ensures all dogs get this message. Because of course. *INHALES BECAUSE NEXT PART IS A DOOZY.* All the dogs, including the honorary ones are gathered and waiting. Then! At Midnight! Euphoria! The terror! ....... As Sirius, the Lord of the Dog star appears and announces that he's lonely, and he wants to take all the dogs off Earth so they can avoid the future Nuclear War. But the dogs have to come willingly and in the morning he promises that the world will forget dogs every existed so they're not missed. Pongo is tasked with deciding the fate OF EVERY DOG ON EARTH.  Some stray dogs convince Pongo to say no to Sirius, because the decision to go would be unfair to any dog on Earth who is still hoping to find a loving family on Earth.  So Pongo says no, and Siris proud that the dogs are staying so loyal despite the promise of eternal bliss. Sirius lets all the dogs SWOOSH back home and of course they deduce he appeared everywhere in the world at once because he's a star and not bound by. Physics or something. Pongo gives one last message to Sirius saying dogs may leave one day, but for now they like being on Earth. Also in the second book. Lucky has a wife named Gay and they're secretaries to a poodle.  Patch refuses to marry because he doesn't want to pass down his eye spot.  Roly Poly teaches George, a boxer, how to swim and they bond over magical adventures in Paris. I PROMISE YOU nothing Disney makes with 101 Dalmatians can top the source material and honestly they’re cowards for not doing a perfect adaptation or the second book. (Apparently Disney wanted to do more things based on that author’s work when he was alive  and I’m sure he would have had he not died in 1966 since Starlight Barking came out in 1967. Just think, there’s probably a timeline where Starlight Barking is the first Disney animated sequel instead of Rescuers Down Under.)

[bellatrixobsessed1]

The Killing Cure (Part 19)

It is faintly entertaining to see those little fly beasts greet their mother. They swarm her, quite literally engulfing her in a cloud of flies. They haphazardly smack into her as though she is the only streetlamp on the roadside. Finally their frantic energy comes to a slow and they assemble themselves into their human guises. 

 Daniela throws her arms around Alcina first, enveloping her in a tight grip. He can see on her face that she is struggling to breathe and more so when Cassandra adds her own hug. “You guys are crushing her!” Bela scolds and they loosen their hold. Alcina exhales. 

 “Mother, you’re home!” Cassandra beams. 

 “Yes dear, for the night and then I have to leave again.”

 Daniela’s grip tightens once more. “No, mother!” 

 “I’ll be back before you can miss me.”

 “But we miss you right after the door closes, mother.” Bela pouts. Ethan’s stomach twists. 

 Alcina ruffles the girl’s hair. “Has the Duke been treating you well?”

 “Oh yes, he brings us the best food.” Cassandra answers. 

 “And we get to…” Daniela nudges Bela before she can finish. 

 “Before you can what? What does he let you do?”

 “Nothing mother!” Bela replies, earning herself an eye roll. 

 And Ethan’s stomach lolls again both with affection and sorrow. It is a delight to see Alcina smiling again--that soft, warm smile that she has reserved for her daughters alone. All the same it is growing harder and harder for him to imagine a future where he gets to hold his own daughter again. Harder for him to imagine a future where he will eventually get to scold her and ask her why she had been out so late or what petty teenage secrets she is keeping from him. 

If worse comes to worst, he wonders if Alcina would let him have moments like this with her daughters. It is better than not having them at all. 

 God, he hopes that his Rose is still alive. Alive and still Rose and not something that this damnable village has warped her into…

 “Manthing, come here!” Daniela shouts. 

 At least he knows that one of them would welcome him to the family if he had no other…

His tummy does another flip. He is thinking as if his daughter is already gone. He can’t afford to think that way. He tries instead to imagine a future where those fly beasts play with his daughter and give her their warped version of what teenhood and young adulthood is all about.

 Bela, he notices, still has not let go of Alcina. He isn’t sure that she will. 

 .oOo.

 “I should hate you, I should absolutely loathe you.” She pauses. “And make no mistake, I really do want to. I think about everything you’ve done to my daughters, how you’ve almost killed them, how you’ve hurt them. I think about what you’ve done to me.” She hovers her hand over the spot on her side. “I think about how terribly it still hurts.” He cringes but she continues, “oh, and it works, Winters, I want to flay you alive…” 

 He takes several steps back, somehow plenty assured that she would be able to find a way if she really wants to. “Then why don’t you?”

 “I can’t.” She mumbles. “You’re...thrilling, Winters. I haven’t met a human that has impressed me in a very long time. They’re all the same, mostly.” 

 He very nearly points out her humanity but he curbs his tongue at the thought of getting flayed alive. “I don’t know, I’m kind of just a man myself.” 

 “Not quite.” She murmurs. “You have...ambition. You have goals and determination.”

 He finds himself soaking the comments in like a sponge, absorbing them until they warm his soul and his cheeks. He doesn’t think that he should let him get used to them though. He imagines that he will say or do something that will earn him twice as many insults. 

 But the expression on her face remains rather soft. Kinder than he is used to. Truly he finds it hard to understand this woman. This woman who hates him one moment and then cherishes him then next. He wonders if she is like this with everyone she meets or if he makes her feel a special sort of conflict; habit and a comfort zone versus change and adaptation. 

 She seats herself at the head of the table. “Be a dear, Winters, fetch my daughters and I something to drink.” 

 Her daughters eye him with excitement.

 “What’s the magic word?” He tries with a lopsided smile. 

 “Go.” She points towards the wine cellar. He supposes that he should be thankful that she is permitting him to enter her treasured cask at all. He stands up and she flashes him one of her smug, self-satisfied smiles. 

 .oOo.

 Her wine doesn’t taste the same and it makes her sick in every way that it can--physically first and then emotionally, realizing that she can no longer stomach such an extraordinary, delectable taste. She supposes that she can still have herself a good blood bath every now and then, the texture is still pleasant, perhaps just not on her tongue. She rifles through her dresser for the most comfortable nightgown she owns. She might as well enjoy it while she has it. When she finds it she carries it to the bathroom. She supposes that she can fill it with the wine that she can no longer drink...

 “You used to sing!” Ethan declares from across the adjoining bedroom. Alcina’s face flushes, the man wasn’t supposed to have found that again, he wasn’t supposed to remember it.

 “Can you still sing?”

 “I haven’t done so in a very long time.”

 “You should give it a try.” He grins. 

 “Absolutely not.”

 “Come on mother!” Daniela perks up. “Sing something for us!” She isn't sure when the girls had come to join them. She sighs, having a feeling that her bath will have to wait a little longer. Probably becomes a definitely when The Duke find his way into her room.

 “You haven’t sang to us in a long time.” Bela agrees.

 “Girls…” She mutters through gritted teeth. 

 “Just one song, mother?” Cassandra requests. 

 “Now look what you’ve done.” She glowers at Ethan. But the man looks plenty pleased with himself. “I’ll sing if you can get The Duke to play the piano.” She folds her arms stubbornly across her chest. 

 “Gladly, m’lady.” The Duke replies. He strolls his way over to the grand piano and shifts in his chair several times until he finds himself a position that he finds to be both comfortable and optimal for reaching the keys. He plays a few test notes. “What are we singing, Miss D?”

 Alcina crinkles her noise. “That’s Lady Dimitrescu, to you Duke.” 

 The man gives a hearty chortle. 

 She tries to think of a short song, one that she hasn’t forgotten over time. “I will sing Vai Mindruto. You know the cords, yes?”

 “Most assuredly, m’lady.” He strikes the first few notes and Alcina inhales deeply. It has been so terribly long since she has sung even a note. Much less since she has sung before a crowd, nevermind that her audience is small and familiar. 

 .oOo. 

 What she no longer has in size, Lady Dimitrescu makes up for in presence, demeanor, and volume. With a voice like that she might as well be ten feet tall. Her vocals are smooth and her diction is flawless and powerful. 

 He had been expecting an uppity jazz number and she has graced them with an operatic ballad. He thinks that this might just be better than what he’d expected. She has a voice that transcends eras. A voice akin to sipping opulent champagne with his free hand clutching the  gold filigree railing of a  balcony. Her voice has likeness to the warm glow of a diamond chandelier throwing prisms around an otherwise dark and empty ballroom. 

It is haunting and elegant and haunting in its elegance. 

 He observes her daughters as they look upon their mother. Bela is falling asleep on Cassandra’s shoulder as she leans forward to have a better listen. And Daniela buzzes about in a slow, languid sway, dancing with a partner who isn’t there at all. 

 Alcina herself stands with her eyes closed and her head tilted up, perhaps imagining herself at another place and in another time entirely.  For the first time in a while she looks to be at peace. And just when he thinks that the song is reaching its peak, it reaches its end. He resents that it had been so short. The air is still charged with energy several minutes after the last ghost of a note tapers off down the hallway. Still charming even now that the room is fully silent. 

 Her hands fall back to her sides and she opens her eyes. Daniela gives several absurdly loud claps and Bela bolts upright with a disgruntled grumble. The Duke stands up and stretches, “it’s always a pleasure to do a number with you, Lady Dimitrescu.” He clicks his tongue. “A lovely voice for a lovely lady.”

 She clears her throat, “thank you Duke.” 

 “Why did you stop singing?” Ethan asks.

 She furrows her brows. “Mother Miranda says that it is a waste of time.” 

 The more he hears of that woman, the more he resents her. “Do you enjoy singing?” 

 Alcina hums as she ponders the question, that in itself is answer enough. Finally she nods, “well enough, yes.” 

 “Then it isn’t a waste of time.” Ethan flashes her a smile. “It makes your girls happy too.” 

It makes him happy.

[ajokeformur-ray]

Baby, you’re fucking gorgeous// Joker x Reader//

Okay, so this one wasn’t requested but I have to get it out of my system. Every time I look at Joker, I blush like crazy and I just know that smug bastard would enjoy the attention. And so, this little imagine was born. Hopefully it’s as good as the Arthur Fleck ones I’ve written, because I haven’t written for Joker before. Let me know what you think!

Summary: You’re still unused to Joker… his mannerisms, his physical appearance, and you. Can’t. Stop. STARING. He notices, of course he does, but he subtly teases you until finally, oh, finally, you just can’t take it anymore. Are you in for a long night? Oh, most definitely.

TW; swearing, smoking (Joker), err… soft smut, teasing Joker. Mentions of Arthur’s malnutrition in real terms; if it upsets you or may potentially trigger you, then please skip the asterisked (*) paragraph. The asterisks are placed immediately before and after the paragraph. No critical plot info. is in that paragraph! I will signal its finish with another asterisk at the end. 

word count: 1,560

Arthur Fleck/Joker:  @writings-of-a-gen-z @x-avantgarde-x @mapreza1 @insomniabird @mavalenovaninagavi @itwasrealenough @morrisonmercurymalek  @rand0ms-fand0ms @rafaelina-casillas @aclownthing @rebs-doom @vivft @help-i-am-obssessed @autumnaffection @taintednihilist @vladtoly @mg-woolf99 @misstgrey92 @that-s-life​ @dopey-girl-blogs​

 Wanna be added to the taglist? Let me know in a DM or ask, please - comments can be hard to track

Oh, help you. 

Arthur Fleck, your beloved significant other, had only just recently, in the last few days, completed his gradual but inevitable transition into Joker. You had come home one night expecting to see a bare faced, very weary and tired Arthur greet you at the door, but instead you had opened the door and before you had even shut it behind you, hands had grabbed your face and pulled you into a huge messy kiss; traces of greasepaint all over your face. 

You had stepped back to see an exuberant Arthur. “Hey, Arthur!” 

 Arthur had smiled softly at you, his eyes so kind and gentle, but he had shaken his head patiently. He had known that you wouldn’t know who he was, and that it would take time before you could tell his personas apart. “When I’m like this, call me Joker, darling.” Then he had burst into laughter, the sound loud and bouncing off the walls; it was freer and more genuine than you had ever heard him before. You had accepted this new persona without question, only wanting him to be happy, and that was that. Some days you didn’t know who would greet you at the door. It didn’t matter, though, so long as you saw your enigmatic love at each day’s end. 

Despite your bravado in front of Joker, you still weren’t acclimatised to him. You had seen glimpses of him over the months, flashes of his confidence had shone through Arthur and you had found yourself malfunctioning, blushing too badly to be able to look Arthur in the eye. It had excited you, though a deeper and easier to hide part of you had worried for the future of Arthur Fleck… would you still be a part of it? Would he still love you as this new person came into light? 

As such, you had a problem. Only days before had you met Joker, and now with you sat on the sofa watching Joker dancing without music, his own eerie but liberating rhythm playing on a seeming loop in his complex and twisted mind, you were mesmerised. You were caught like a fly in a web. You hadn’t been able to look away from him all day. Arthur was devastatingly beautiful but Joker… oh, Joker was ethereal. You loved him. To love Arthur was to love Joker, he was the same man, and you had been conflicted about loving Joker initially but, like all other potentially bad decisions in your life, you had chucked yourself down the rabbit hole head first. You could only hope that Joker would catch you, just as Arthur had.

As Joker turned with stilted movements, he spotted you staring. He raised an eyebrow, winked at you and then carried on dancing like nothing had happened. You quickly grabbed the nearest cushion, burying your face in it to muffle the strange noise that left your throat, but also the blush that spread like wild fire across your face. He was fucking gorgeous.

You squeezed the pillow just a bit harder on your face, biting your lip to further muffle the second squeak that left you. Arthur had been able to make you blush with just a straight face but Joker… Joker knew what he did to you without even trying, and it seemed as though he had already figured out that this new persona, his truest and freest self, was your greatest weakness.

You inhaled the scent of cigarettes and your love as you released the cushion and stood, intent on going to the kitchen to get some food for yourself and Joker. Even now, he took very poor care of himself, but he lavished you with everything. It was frustrating, but you supposed that you could take care of the two of you. Joker already worked so hard to support you as a small family, so the least you could do was to do your share.

*

You turned to the barely stocked fridge, thinking of what kind of meal you could make with what was in there. You had the ingredients for a basic pasta bake, so that was what you set your mind to. Arthur couldn’t eat much of anything at all, his body so used to starvation and malnourished from such a young age that even slightly rich foods could make him sick; his body unable to digest it, and you had quickly had to adapt to his body’s needs.

*

You turned to the oven, your mind still fixated on the haunting images of Joker dancing to music that was in his very soul, and began to make dinner. A soft, low humming had replaced the silence in the apartment, and you found your body reaction to Joker’s music. Your hips wanted to sway, your head wanted to tilt up towards the ceiling so you could listen better, and as you set the pan down for the pasta bake, large hands seized your shoulders; spinning you around into a dance.

You were too preoccupied with the way that Joker’s eyes stared into your own to notice what he was doing with your body; turning it this way and that, spinning you, and dancing with you like Fred and Ginger. 

“Like what you see?”

You blushed as Joker winked, and he laughed. There was a tinge of hysteria to his laughter, but you didn’t mind. Laughter was better than sorrow, and you had long since learned the different emotions behind every laugh that Arthur had.

Two could play at the confidence game… Arthur and now Joker were able to read your body language with a single glance in your direction, so intuitive was he. If he could tease you, knowing exactly what he was doing but being less suppressible than Arthur so he could enjoy what he did to you, then you could use a little bravado of your own. You made yourself, with the low stirrings of lust mixing with love and affection in your gut, look Joker full in the face. You allowed the blush to rise, resisted the urge to cover your face with your hands, and let Joker see.

 You even squeaked again, much to your mortification and Joker’s amusement. You cleared your throat, drew some more strength from that familiar touch you swore you could feel even in your dreams, and said, “Baby, you’re fucking gorgeous!” 

“Have you started dinner yet, kitten?“ 

You shook your head. "No. Just about to st -" 

"Save it. I know what I’m hungry for and it’s not pasta.” Joker gave you that look and you made a mental note to clear tomorrow’s schedule. You’d be walking and sitting funny for the rest of the week, if memory served you well. Last time he had looked at you in that way, with such blatant want and fire in his eyes, you had had sex multiple times in one night… every time you had started to drift off, he had woken you up with a demanding kiss and praises whispered in your ear.

“Hey, uh, J-joker?” You stuttered over his name, your eyes still on his, and he winked at you, his smirk widening. The cocky bastard was not helping you at all and he fucking knew it. 

“Yes, dearest?”

“Do you even know how beautiful you are?”

Joker’s smirk widened to almost ear to ear (though his makeup made that illusion even stronger) and one arm slipped around your waist, pulling you tightly into him. His other arm gracefully came up and over his head, his fingers dangling loosely in the air. and he slowly lowered you into a dip. Where had this strength came from? Hovering above you, Joker’s eyes softened and he almost looked like Arthur again. It was a close enough resemblance that it made you want to cry. Where was your sweet man? Where had he gone? Did he still love you? You would never stop loving Arthur, no matter who he turned into, but you couldn’t confidently say the same about Joker. 

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted to kiss him badly. Joker must have read it on your face, for his eyes flickered down to your lips and his smirk faded as he just stared at you. 

“Joker?” He was starting to make you nervous, and you got up to move, to leave, but his fingers dug almost painfully into your hips and his lips descended upon yours messily. His kiss was greedy, his tongue pushing its way past your lips. He kissed you like it was the last time he’d ever get to kiss you, and it was with a surprising show of strength that he murmured, “Jump”, against your lips, and lifted you so that your legs were wrapped tightly around his waist. 

Without breaking the kiss, Joker somehow managed to carry you seamlessly through the flat, unfaltering in his step despite how your body obscured his vision. It was with great faith in his muscle memory that he navigated the two of you to the bedroom. He roughly shoved you off him and you landed on the bed. Your body didn’t cease bouncing before he was on you like a lion pouncing on his prey, and his lips seized yours again, his face paint smearing all over yours.

You were in for a long night.

[a-world-in-grey]

For @secret-engima because both of us are still sick (I think I bruised my ribs. From COUGHING. How the HELL-) so here, have a few rambles. One a fusion, one a cross over.

.

-Nox doesn’t meet Sola until later, because Regis had showed some forethought and forbade his strong-willed eldest from meeting her newest brother until Nox was alright with it.

-(Which sent Sola into a fine mood. That’s her BROTHER. Who saved their Littlest Brother because Sola wasn’t there to protect either of them.)

-(In the four days Nox spends unconscious, Sola displays her Displeasure by joining the Kingsglaive training and all but Daring her father to stop her. And meeting Ardyn and dubbing him Uncle because her brother is his nephew and that makes him Uncle. Case closed.)

-(No it’s not because it makes her father and Uncle Cor and Uncle Clarus twitch and her new Uncle Cid wheeze with laughter. Why would you say that?)

-So Nox first meets Sola when Sola brings dinner to Nox and Ardyn (and maybe their father doesn’t know she bullied the tray off the servant assigned to bring it to them, Regis having decided to let Ardyn and Nox settle without the stress of Regis and Noctis being there, but Sola will apologize to said servant later but Nox agreed to stay and Sola wants to meet her new Little Brother since Littlest Brother got to meet him earlier.)

-Nox’s first meeting woth Sola is her knocking on their door but opening it before either he or Ardyn can get up from where Nox is huddled into Ardyn’s side. Nox looks up and nearly inhales spit down the wrong pipe, because there’s a girl his age with red hair and blue eyes, magic emanating from her in a casual way Nox doesn’t ever remember a Lucis Caelum doing, but that lets him feel how smug-pleased-love-love-love-family-brother-gratitude-regret-protection-mine-mine-mine-

-While Nox gapes at the girl, Ardyn cheerfully greets her as Fiercest Niece, and his fellow redhead - and holy crap Nox can see hints of resemblance beyond their coloring, but thank the Six that she apparently takes after their mom otherwise there’d be no hiding Ardyn’s lineage - and she responds with ‘Uncle’ and pleased and possessive curl to her magic that shows absolutely no negative feeling to being claimed as family by the Chancellor of Niflheim.

-Then while Nox is still gaping, because when did- what? The girl turns to him and greets him with ‘Little Brother,’ no hesitation or disdain, just that same fierce love, the possessive mine to her magic that reminds Nox of a dragon guarding what is Hers.

-And Nox... doesn’t really know how to react. To a sister he’s never had before coming and claiming him (claiming both of them) despite being more than old enough to know about bastards (and wait, does this mean his sister is the Crown Princess?) and Niflheim and that Izunia means the Chancellor of Lucis’s enemy.

-As they eat, and as Ardyn fills the air with chatter (his new sister - Sola - isn’t much for words apparently, making it up for the near empathic communication she manages trough her magic) and teases Sola for terrorizing the Kingsglaive with her temper, Nox slowly lets his magic out into the air and tangle with Sola’s.

-The change is near instantaneous. He can feel Sola’s emotions so clearer now, can feel her regret at Nox getting hurt, her anger at herself for not being their to protect BOTH her little brothers, and her determination to never let something like that ever happen again. And Sola’s delight when Nox tangles his magic with hers, soothing his uncertainty and fear away with nonverbal reassurance (silly Little Brother) that somehow works far more than words ever could because Nox can feel Sola’s sheer brazen certainty and protectiveness and he can feel from that alone that anyone badmouthing him or heir uncle within her hearing is... probably not going to like what comes next.

-Nox sends his magic to curl around Ardyn as well after a moment, and the rest of dinner is... pleasant. Enjoyable even.

-Even when an exasperated Regis comes by to scold Sola for not waiting for Nox to meet her and Sola’s completely unrepentant smirk, Nox can only smile from where he’s curled into Ardyn’s side.

.

-When Cor’s magic flares in confused panic, there are a few things Regina is prepared to encounter. The Citadel’s been feeling odd the entire day, in a distinct manner Regina rememders from her days as Skull that always precluded Reborn-instigated Chaos.

-A red haired bby!Cloud napping on her Murder Child is, admittedly, not one of them.

-Murder Child is not pleased when Regina whips out her phone to capture the adorable moment, and in that time her magic gets a second, closer look at the bby!Cloud.

-Oh, a bby!LC Cloud. Her bby?

-Her bby. Her sick bby.

-Regina scoops the toddler out of Murder Child’s lap. The little girl grumbles a bit, magic curling out with only semi-conscious disgruntlement at being moved when she wants to sleep, but latches onto Regina like a limpet and Regina coos. Her baby is so cute! She has Ardyn’s hair and magic!

-Well, not entirely hers. Her from another dimension and Regina goes to hunt down her dimensional counterpart before anyone overreacts to the bby!Cloud’s disappearance. And so she can learn her little girl’s name.

-Regis, S!Cor, and S!Clarus are somewhat alarmed when, in the middle of searching for where Sola’s newest hidey hole is, trip over thin air and the world sort of... Glitches. Well, Cor is more annoyed than alarmed, but he’d also been in the middle of checking the top of a shelf and landed flat on his back, wheezing.

-Regis is more alarmed when Sola finds him, or rather when a woman he’s never seen before finds him carrying his sick daughter curled up and latched onto the woman in a manner that will make prying Sola off... difficult. And probably requiring a crowbar.

-The woman - looking far too much like him, the hell? - peers at him before lighting up and bouncing over. Regis is caught completely flat footed when she introduces herself along the lines of, ‘Hi, I’m Regina, your counterpart from this dimension and can I know the name of the daughter I’m going to have?’

-Regis would like to sit down.

-Then Clarus and Cor show up, along with their older counterparts and S!Clarus is just as freaked out as Regis is seeing their youger selves. S!Cor doesn’t react until he sees Sola in Regina’s arms, at which point he scowls and Looms threateningly, but Regina merely chirps delightedly that Murder Child turns into Murder Adult and Murder Adult is a fantastic choice as godfather, she applauds her other self’s good sense.

-Regina learns Sola’s name (and agrees that Sun is a perfect name for her little fire-haired healer baby) and spends the rest of the visit fussing over her little girl while both Cors hover in the background (S!Cor with possessive disgruntlement and Murder Child with curious fascination) and Clarus gets Weskham to help Regis and S!Clarus adapt to the sheer insanity that is Regina. And then Ardyn and Titus show up and Regina shows off her not-daughter to her husband and Uncle. Titus Melts, and Ardyn immediately flips into Healer Mode over his Cloud-Niece, and whoops, Regis and S!Co learn that Ardyn is a Lucis Caelum and does that mean the Chancellor of Niflheim is one too?!

-Sola naps through the whole thing, snoozing away on Regina’s shoulder. Regina gets ALL the pictures.

[70swonderpoisonstark]

Wait, you survived? ( V )

// You and Steve survive the plane wreck and end up seventy years in the future. Everything’s different and the only person that understands the confusion and pain of losing your entire world is your now dead husband’s best friend. When the two of you are forced to adapt to the world around you, things can get complicated. //

 “If you love someone, tell them.

                         For hearts are often broken 

   by words left unspoken.”

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Buildings were falling, crashing onto the streets. Aliens flying everywhere. You and Steve were helping civilians get inside or underground. Trying your hardest to keep everyone safe while also fighting for your lives. Your shots were dead on, head shots killed aliens just as effectively as they killed Nazi's. You went down the streets, rushing people away from the action while aiding the team with killing down the numbers. You'd lost Steve at this point, you'd been running up and down the streets, listening for the sound of Tony's blasters as you vigilantly fought the hoard of creatures that had been released through a giant portal in the sky. You were in the main part of the city, at the center of the action, punching, kicking, flipping through the air as you avoided being dusted by the alien weapons.

Steve watched helplessly as you were cornered time and time again by the horde that was unleashed on the city. He tried to fight his way over to you, but they kept coming, pulling him away from you. There were too many, they'd never make it out of this alive if they kept coming at this rate. Giant centipede-from-hell creatures filling the skies with fury, destroying everything in their path, releasing more aliens onto the ground. It was hopeless, but you kept on fighting, with the rest of them.

Energy blasts were coming from every direction, time itself seem to slow as you dodged blast after blast, shot after shot. Pure adrenaline forcing every move you made. Instinct driving you to fight, kill, survive. A crash a couples miles away lead you towards the rest of the group. You circled up, watching as more of them came out of the giant blue hole.

Steve ran off, helping the local police align their plan with his own. Saving the people was what mattered right now and he had to focus.

You fought alongside Natasha and Clint, dropping alien bodies as quickly as they came. Thor made an electrifying entrance, and Steve finally made his way over to you. He looked you up and down, checking for any obvious injuries and silently panicking about you being non-enhanced and not an assassin. He couldn't stop the fight to physically check you over, but by God that would be the first thing he did when this was all over.

Dr. Banner had finally showed, driving on a beaten down motorcycle. His look of shame had been replaced with strength. He seemed ready to do what needed to be done, and make up for his past mistakes in New York. He was ready to be the hero he had always been.

"That's my secret Cap, I'm always angry." A devastating blow demolished the skull of whatever armored alien whale, causing it to fall literally head over heels onto you guys. Steve covered you and Natasha as it came crumbling down. Igniting a fury in what was left of the aliens as they screamed their battle cries at the top of their lungs. Steve took the lead, shouting out a plan as the group fanned out. You, Steve, and Natasha stayed on the ground, taking out as many aliens as you could, bouncing creatures between the three of you as you tired out, working in unison as you ripped throats out. Natasha bounced, clasping onto one of the hover machines being flown by the aliens, flying off to God knows where. You and Steve stayed behind, throwing each other looks as you fought side by side, fighting memories as you kicked ass. They'd redone both of your original suits, his was more vibrantly star spangled and yours a much more abstract collection of dark navy, maroon and gray. It was hard not to imagine the two of you doing the same thing all across Europe before the fall as your moves synchronized together. Every crippling blow, every strike of the feet and hands, it was impossible not to see the symmetry you possessed on the battlefield; mirroring each others move without even a glance.

Steve focused on his fight, shield, punch, hit, uppercut, roundhouse. Fighting his way through squadron after squadron of evil. How was he reminiscing and battling at the same time? Aliens mirroring HYDRA goons time after time, the howling commandos behind and around him, you and Bucky on either side, taking down foe's with ease. His heart ached for the old days when the whole team was together, he'd have something smart to say to Dum Dum, only to be reminded that you were all he had left. He had to adjust to the times and realize he was fighting aliens, not Nazi's.

"Captain, the bank on 42nd past madison. They've cornered a lot of civilians in there." Clint radioed. He looked at you, torn between leaving for another fight or staying here with you.

You grabbed two aliens by the back of the head, breaking their necks in one swift pull forward as you looked at Steve. "Go! They need you, I can handle myself."

After a brief hesitation, he left to defend the civilians, all the worry for you pushed to the back of his mind as he found another clan of invaders. Silencing a bomb as he resourcefully kicked tables and mantles to take the aliens off their feet. Taking the full force knocked him out the window, and shortly he found his way back to another fight.

You looked up just as Tony had flown into the belly of the beast, shortly blowing himself up and flying out into the street.

"Try not to die, Tony. I haven't had a chance to clown your tech yet." You shouted as you continued to fight. He'd smashed into a few signs, slightly injuring himself but accomplishing the task at hand.

"I can shut the portal down." Natasha yelled throughout the comms.Finally, victory was in sight.

"Do it!"

"No, wait." Tony exclaimed, his voice strained from all the damage he'd taken.

"Stark these things are still coming!"

"I've got a nuke coming in and it's gonna blow in less than a minute." Was the last thing you heard before you saw a hundred pound nuke being flown into the sky by none other than Tony Stark. He barely missed his own building, and you heard the cheers of the city as the nuke passed through the wormhole. You and the team knew it was a one way trip, but they didn't. They hugged their coworkers and their families as you watched Tony sacrifice himself for the world. You couldn't move as you watched the portal collapse with Tony inside, as the opening narrowed slowly, Tony's armor nowhere in sight. You wanted to cry, but forced yourself to have hope that somehow he'd show up. The aliens around you powered down one by-

You inhaled sharply, knowing the intense feeling too well, one of the Chitauri had managed to stay up long enough to sneak attack you, driving a blade clean through your abdomen, the blade sticking out the back, you tried to radio for help, but just as the alien soldier fell, so did you.

Steve and the team moved to corner Loki in the tower, you weren't responding, but your coms may have been damaged in battle so there wasn't anything to worrisome about that. Thor handcuffed him with asgardian cuffs, and shortly after muzzled him. The team was given assignments and handed equipment off to other agents as they slowly cleared out the room. Thor kept Loki guarded, with the magic that was entwined in his cuffs he wasn't going anywhere, but nobody was willing to take their eyes off him regardless. Steve went to coordinate search and rescue making his way down the stairs, starting with the Stark tower to look for any survivors. He wandered around the city in a two block radius from the tower, knowing eventually you'd make your way there even with busted comms. After his check he asked the team if anybody had seen you, told them to scan around and see if they could see you walking around lost. Nobody had seen you since Tony fell the first time. A gut feeling told Steve something was wrong, and he frantically searched the surrounding area, praying you were only mildly injured, even though the voice in his head was telling him otherwise. Clint was the first to speak, and his words froze Steve in his tracks.

"Cap. I found her, but you're not gonna like it." And just like that Steve's heart stopped, his blood chilled as he listened, no details nothing as he sprinted to the nearest window. Clint gave him your location and Steve found you immediately.

"Tony. (Y/N)'s down. I need medics on 40th past the deli." Tony didn't bother radioing back as he quickly armored up and flew to where you were, he collapsed next to you, taking his helmet off as he felt the sting of each of his own injuries. He checked your neck for a pulse, hearing the sirens and knowing Steve was on his way, you had to be alive. He held his two fingers on your neck, praying to feel something, anything bounding around. He was dizzy himself from his fall, so keeping focus on something as simple as seeing if you had a pulse was hard when he could feel his own beating his skull. Tony used all his strength to to focus on you, pressing deep down onto your carotid. His head dropped, nothing. With the puddle of blood around you it didn't shock him, but he knew it would unravel Steve. He'd lost hope knowing the reality of the situation was heartbreaking, and then he felt it. Nothing strong, but he felt a slight pressure against his fingertips. You were holding on, barely, he heard the sirens getting closer but they needed to get there soon.

Steve's knees hitched as he saw you, blade impaling your side. You're unconscious body laying on its unaffected side, the sword holding you up unevenly.

"Is, Tony is she.." Steve couldn't breathe, the sight in front of him made him dizzy, he ran five feet and threw up, staring at your pale body he doubled over, hands on his knees. He couldn't force himself to believe the sight that was so real in front on his eyes. He dropped to his knees, grabbing your hand as he watched your chest with scrutiny. You were struggling, but he could see your breathing, it was definitely not as much as it should have been, and your chest shook with every half breath you took, but it was something, right?

"Tony, tony, she, she's not, she's gonna be." He pushed your hair out of your face, you'd taken a beating and a half and still you were the most beautiful woman in the world. He held back the tears he so desperately wanted to cry.

"Steve, it doesn't look good, but let me handle this, I promise I'll do my best." Steve couldn't let go, you were all he had, you were everything, and now you were dying in his arms. He was helpless yet again, watching another person he loved die before him.

Cheeks stained with silent tears, you used what was left of your strength to squeeze Steve's hand, he knew you loved him, he was your best friend, but you couldn't leave him, not like this. Stark pulled you from him and disappeared into the sky. Blasters the last thing Steve saw before he broke. Sight going black, the last thing he see's is Natasha running his way.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

//There goes Tony being the most selfless person on the planet like ALWAYS(Tony Anti’s will be blocked SNS) You’re kind of a badass huh? Who knew, oh wait, YOU DID BECAUSE YOU’RE FUCKING AMAZING AND I LOVE YOU SO NEVER DOUBT YOUR SELF WORTH BECAUSE YOU ARE ALWAYS IMPORTANT, ALWAYS LOVED, AND ALWAYS HAVE A PURPOSE AND A REASON TO BE HERE AND ALIVE NO MATTER WHAT. FIGHT LIKE HELL, BECAUSE AFTER YOU SURFACE AGAIN NOTHING AND NOBODY CAN FUCK WITH YOU. BE PROUD OF YOUR SMALL VICTORIES AND NEVER DOWNPLAY YOUR EMOTIONS. YOU. ARE. VALUABLE. AND NOT BECAUSE OF WHAT YOU CAN DO, JUST BECAUSE YOU’RE HERE, ALIVE, AND BREATHING IN AIR. YOU MATTER, ALWAYS, AND FOREVER. Sorry for the all caps rant but my own personal anxiety/depression has been kicking my ass so I know there’s others who may need to hear that. If anybody reading this needs to talk to somebody, or just vent to an unbiased person I am MORE than willing to be your sounding board. No issue is too big or small. Message me, please. I know what it’s like to have all these feelings and emotions and not have nobody to tell them too because they wouldn’t understand or you don’t wanna be a bother or it’ll go away eventually. SO TALK TO ME, if I can’t help you’ll at least be able to get it out.//

//You guys are going to love this! This is such a fun story for me to write, and all the positive feedback is really helping, so thank you all for your likes and reblogs, every one of them brings a smile to my face and makes my day. Let me know what you guys think, what you’d like to see, what you don’t wanna see, and some crazy vocab words and I’ll write accordingly, thanks for the read, and HAPPY SPOOKY SEASON!!//

[aion-rsa]

Dune Opening Sequence Puts Focus on Zendaya and Arrakis

https://ift.tt/eA8V8J

“It is pure cinema,” actor Josh Brolin says while describing the look of Denis Villeneuve’s long-anticipated Dune adaptation. “There’s an aesthetic to this film that’s just different.”

When a performer talks so glowingly about a movie they’re appearing in, especially during a prerecorded sizzle which kicks off an extended preview of said blockbuster, journalists might assume they’re indulging in a bit of hyperbole. Yet when paired with more than 15 minutes of Dune footage, including the upcoming epic’s opening sequences, that bit of high praise rings surprisingly true.

Presented in breathtaking digital IMAX—as seemingly all of the film’s desert sequences are shot in—our initial brush with Dune’s ambitions is stunning. Arguably not since Lawrence of Arabia have desert landscapes been filmed with such romance and awe-inducing ambition. At a glance, the sci-fi adventure’s opening on sandy vistas echoes Star Wars, yes, but Villeneuve appears to be reaching for something grander and more majestic in his artfulness. Could the film be every bit as sweeping as Frank Herbert’s influential (and allegedly unfilmable) novel, even as it makes tweaks to the source material?

It seems possible. 

Arrakis and the Fremen

Beginning with a crash course in the brutal realpolitik of the planet Arrakis—the lone rock in the known universe to produce a highly coveted narcotic called “spice melange”—the early moments of Dune are not presented from the perspectives of either House Atreides or House Harkonnen (the ostensible good guys and villains of the Dune saga). Rather we view both through the gaze of Arrakis native Chani (Zendaya).

Zendaya narrates the opening scene by saying, “My planet Arrakis is so beautiful when the sun is low. Rolling over the sands, you can see the spice in the air.” She then pauses as darkness descends on the screen. “At nightfall the spice harvesters land.”

Across brutally real sand swept landscapes, we see digital red spice floating in the air. The material is a byproduct of Arrakis’ unique desert ecosystem, and it produces hallucinogenic experiences that extend a user’s lifespan. But as helpfully explained by the Dune movie in the first few minutes, the spice also allows navigators of the Spacing Guild to enter the drug-fueled headspace necessary to “find safe paths between the stars.” Without spice, interstellar travel is impossible. It is therefore the most valuable substance in the galaxy.

Hence the rest of Chani’s narration about the outsiders who bring their clanking metallic machines out at night.

House Harkonnen

“They ravage our lands in front of our eyes,” Zendaya says. “Their cruelty to our people is more than I can stand.” The ravagers in question are in the employ of House Harkonnen, an obscenely rich family situated at the top of an intergalactic feudal system. As filmed by Villeneuve in their hovering dragonfly-like aircraft and in tight fascistic formations when armed for battle and transportation, Harkonnen forces look like brown shirt variations on Stormtroopers in Star Wars. This is of course by design. After all, Herbert’s Dune was a major influence on George Lucas (and just about every space opera written since 1965).

And yet, as framed in the 2021 film, there is something newly subversive about the message. Fans of the novel will note that much of the book is framed from the vantage of Princess Irulan, the daughter of the Padishah Emperor, who many years later is looking back at this story as a significant sea change in the dynamics between the universe’s patrician class. In Dune ’21, however, our narrator is one of the Fremen of the Arrakeen desert, nomads who are stepped on by the elite of every stripe. Hence images of Chani and other Fremen shooting at, and blowing up, Harkonnens’ spice harvesters.

The implications of Arrakis being an allegorical stand-in for the Middle East, and the spice representing the oil that great powers will kill over even in the face of political destabilization, is more pronounced here than even in the novel. As star Timothée Chalamet also said during our presentation, “[Dune] really is a story of civilization. It is about planet Earth and the clash of cultures.”

House Atreides

Perhaps that’s why the soldiers of House Atreides, the heroes of the film, also look faintly like Stormtroopers, both from history and Star Wars. Or as Chani says of them in Dune, “Who will our next oppressors be?”

Much of the rest of the opening is about introducing us to Paul Atreides (Chalamet) and life on his home planet of Caladan, which in Dune appears luscious and green but perpetually damp and overcast—so a little bit like Villeneuve’s native Canada. It’s there we learn Paul is having prophetic dreams about Chani and the Fremen people his father, Duke Leto Atreides (Oscar Isaac), has been tasked with ruling over in the Harkonnens’ absence—the Emperor has ordered House Harkonnen to vacate planet Arrakis.

With a visual aesthetic which appears to mirror both western and eastern noble houses on Earth, the Atreides live in splendor on Caladan. Fans of the novel will also be happy to hear a portrait of the past duke and a statue of a certain bull are present. Despite such opulence, teenage Paul is already being trained for leadership, even over the breakfast table by his mother, the Lady Jessica (a superbly aloof Rebecca Ferguson). 

Lady Jessica, the Bene Gesserit, and “The Voice”

The scene is also our first introduction of Lady Jessica’s order the Bene Gesserit. Something of a cross between Jedi and a coven of intergalactic witches, the Bene Gesserit’s powers are made explicit much earlier on screen than on the page, with Jessica urging Paul to practice “the Voice” and command her to give him her water glass.

After several attempts, Paul almost finds the proper Bene Gesserit inflection. For a moment, it sounds like Chalamet’s voice has been stretched into a needle across the audio track—or the noise made by a violin string pulled too tight—and overlaid with Ferguson’s own vocals. Functionally, his command for Jessica to hand him the glass is the same “Jedi Mind Trick” we’ve come to know fondly from countless Star Wars movies, but in Dune it feels more ominous and witchy.

Oscar Isaac as Duke Leto 

If the scene is our introduction to one side of Paul’s family tree, we soon meet the other via Oscar Isaac’s proud Duke Leto. Standing before legions of his black uniformed warriors on another gray day, he along with Paul, Jessica, and aides Gurney Halleck (Josh Brolin) and Thufir Hawat (Stephen McKinley Henderson) await the arrival of a royal imperium ship, which travels all the way to Caladan to seal a foregone formality: House Atreides will take over control of spice production on Arrakis from the shady House Harkonnen.

“We are House Atreides,” Isaac roars. “There is no call we do not answer, there is no faith that we betray! The Emperor asks us to bring peace to Arrakis! House Atreides accepts!”  His men then chant the “Atreides!” name like it’s their religion. The sequence is somber but strangely grand in its bleakness and sense of dutiful resignation by the Duke.

Hans Zimmer and the Music of Dune

As the music swells, an unsettling alien-sounding affectation emerges in the score. Hans Zimmer, who also participated in our Dune preview, similarly hinted at the otherworldly music he’s conjured here.

“I don’t really want to call Dune a science fiction movie,” Zimmer said, “but nonetheless whenever I saw a movie about empires far, far away, other planets, et cetera, I always heard trumpets and french horns, and cellos playing. And I’m thinking, ‘Wow, they’re all these amazing civilizations in different galaxies in different times, and they have the same instruments as we do.’ So I thought it’d be interesting to go and invent our own instruments.”

With sounds that appear to meld the buzzing synths of electronic-sounding harmonicas and the vocal wails of traditional Middle Eastern music, Dune sounds decidedly unlike other Hollywood sci-fi spectacles.

The Sandworm

… And it again somehow looks original, too. This is confirmed by every moment we’ve seen of Dune set in the deep desert, including one of the major scenes from the movie’s first act. It’s already been teased in trailers: The moment where Paul and Leto first lay eyes on one of the massive sandworms that prowl Arrakis’ deserts.

In the scene, Leto and Paul are taking their first survey of the deep desert, alongside Freman leader Dr. Kynes (Sharon Duncan-Brewster). To many it appears like a wasteland, yet for Paul it looks strangely inviting.

It’s Leto who first spots the sandworm from their aircraft. They’re flying above a newly Atreides-acquired spice harvester, which is now a sitting duck for the enormous worm. So Leto makes the courageous call to try and rescue the entire crew of spice harvesters by rushing them onto his own aircrafts.

Yet as Paul exits the back of the ship to help lead spice harvesters out of harm’s way, his feet touch sand for the first time and his nostrils finally inhale spice. Suddenly, he’s lost in reveries. Again he dreams of Chani and a future among the dunes. But as he falls to his knees the worm grows ever closer, with its mouth appearing to be miles in diameter as it closes around the very land the Atreides aircraft and harvester are resting on. If you’ve seen the first trailer, you know how this impressive sequence ends.

But as experienced on an IMAX screen, it appears much like the sandworm itself: gargantuan, godlike, and, yes, like a piece of cinema that in spite of its familiar source material seems removed from anything we’ve ever seen at a movie theater. Whether or not Dune ultimately handles the weight of its sizable ambitions, one thing is already certain: this isn’t a spectacle to be experienced from your couch.

Dune opens in theaters and on HBO Max on Oct. 22.

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from Den of Geek https://ift.tt/3zlLckf

[veliseraptor]

look, behind you without a sound, 1.4k, horror, blood, gore, other good things. @portraitoftheoddity gives me the best ideas.

Apparently the new slogan that they should be operating under was “if something falls out of the sky, call the Avengers.” The last time, it’d been a meteorite, and the time before that it’d been a piece of a satellite.

This time, according to the garbled call that had, for some reason, gone to Pepper, it was a dead body.

Steve brought the new team along, though they still didn’t feel like much of a team. They hadn’t quite cohered, yet - Sam and Wanda worked well together, and Sam and Rhodey were pretty well matched, but Vision didn’t seem to be meshing with anyone except maybe Wanda. Natasha was adaptable enough to work with anyone, which at least was a relief.

And this time Tony was joining them, which was a whole other variable in the equation. He’d claimed to be bored. Steve thought he was lonely. Wanda didn’t say anything, but he got the impression she wasn’t exactly happy about it.

Steve held in a sigh. They’d figure this out. The original Avengers hadn’t exactly started out as a perfect team either.

The area around the impact site had been cordoned off, some local police hovering nervously nearby. Their relief when the Quinjet landed and the group of them disembarked was nakedly visible. Tony eyed the tape and looked toward the tarp presumably covering the body.

“You’re a long way away,” he noted. “It’s just a dead body, right?”

One of the cops shook his head, looking uneasy. “There’s something not right,” he said. “Just…”

“All right,” Steve said, “we’ll check it out.” He ducked under the cordon, walking over. He felt what the policeman had meant as he approached - a strange prickling on his skin that made his hairs stand on end, a charge in the air. Sam stepped up next to him.

“Is this really what we should be doing?” He asked.

“They called,” Steve said. “I thought we should at least check it out.”

“Weird team-building exercise, Cap,” Sam said. Steve just shook his head and knelt down next to the tarp, drawing it back.

He stopped, his throat closing. It’d been three years but you didn’t forget a face like that, even if half of it was ripped to shreds. Sam swore.

“Jesus,” he said. “Poor bastard.”

Steve said nothing, mute, and just pulled the rest of the tarp off. The rest of him was in about the same condition as his face. If anything, worse. Whatever had happened, he’d almost certainly been dead before he’d hit the ground.

Natasha caught up first, and hissed in through her teeth.

“Steve,” she said tightly. “That’s…”

“Is that Loki?” Tony said, too loudly. Steve half turned toward him where he’d stopped several paces away, looking like he was about to throw up. That got everyone’s attention, all of them staring. Wanda made a small noise and covered her mouth with one hand, her eyes wide.

“What did this?” Natasha asked, her voice tight. “And how...Thor said Loki was dead, but this is...recent.”

“Oh, fuck, Thor,” Tony said. Silence fell.

Recent, Steve thought. Natasha was right. There was blood on the ground under Loki’s body-

Fresh blood. Red, not dried. It’d been hours since they’d gotten the call.

Loki’s body jerked with a rasping, gurgling inhale. Steve recoiled. “Holy shit!” Rhodey said, and Steve had to agree, because somehow Loki was breathing, horrific, wet sounding like his lungs were full of water (blood, full of blood, how, he hadn’t been breathing, how.)

Blood was starting to seep out from underneath him, welling up fresh, slow and then faster. Steve heard someone stumble away and vomit. Steve realized numbly that he needed to turn Loki on his side if he wasn’t going to drown in his own blood and moved him. He heaved out what looked like lungfuls of blood, his first clear inhale a rattle.

“He is going to die again,” Vision said, his voice calm but faintly troubled. Steve turned to glance at him and found Wanda with her back turned, Vision’s hand on her shoulder. “He’s bleeding too much.”

Die again? There was a sentence that didn’t make sense, but Steve could feel it too, Loki’s ragged breathing slowing, the blood pumping out of him slowing as well as his heart stopped.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Sam said, his voice shaky. Steve stared down at Loki’s body, his blood smeared uniform.

“We’ve gotta take him back,” he said.

“Oh, fuck no,” Tony said, spitting and looking anywhere but at Loki. “You’re not seriously going to bring a, an undead alien back to HQ-”

“Would you rather leave him here?” Steve said. Tony didn’t answer.

**

Loki died twice more on the way back to New York.

“I think we need to try to - to fix him. At least enough that the accelerated healing can kick in,” Steve said, after the second time. “I don’t think...this is supposed to be happening. Whatever’s going on...I think he’s supposed to get better. Not just keep dying again and again.”

“So you’re saying we have an immortal alien on our hands and you want to get him back to fighting fit,” Tony said.

But he found a Stark Industries surgeon who took one look at Loki and said, “I don’t work on corpses.”

“This is a special case,” Steve said. “We’ll pay double your usual fees-”

“Double?” Tony said. “What, do you think I’m made of money?”

“And if you could...make it fast,” Steve said, ignoring him. “It’s...time sensitive.”

“Time sensitive,” she said. “Is he going to get up and go somewhere?”

Tony started laughing, a little hysterically. Steve sat down outside the operating theatre, where Natasha joined him, eventually.

After about an hour or so, he heard a scream from inside and jumped to his feet, racing into the room. The surgeon was crouched behind one of the carts with her attending nurse.

“He’s alive!” She shrieked. “He was dead and now he’s alive!”

“Great timing,” Natasha muttered, but she was already over next to Loki, who was indeed alive again, spitting blood, half his chest still laid open to bone, a nightmare vision. This time his eyes were open, though. Or one of them, at least, wide and frantic, and Steve could see his throat working like he was trying to talk.

Instead he just started screaming.

He didn’t stop until Wanda knocked him out.

**

Loki stayed alive.

He was healing, now - it was visible, eerily, wounds closing over and flesh reforming. Wanda kept him unconscious because whenever he was awake he just - screamed.

He did stop, eventually, and just lay there, eyes closed, perfectly still.

“I should try to talk to him,” Steve said.

“That sounds like a terrible idea,” Sam said.

“We need to know what happened,” Steve said. “What if Thor’s in trouble? Clearly there’s...something even nastier than Loki out there.

“And if he tries to kill you?”

Steve frowned at Loki, still unmoving. “I don’t think he will.”

Sam threw up his hands. “All right, fine. I’m not going to convince you. I’ll just be here ready to save your ass when you’re getting it kicked.”

Steve gave Sam a crooked smile and unlocked the door, letting himself in. Loki twitched, but otherwise didn’t stir.

“Loki?” Steve said. Nothing. “I’d like to talk to you,” he tried. Still no response.

Maybe he couldn’t, it occurred to Steve. Maybe he’d just...snapped.

Loki’s eyes opened abruptly, and he turned his head to look at Steve. He started, but Loki didn’t move more than that, just...looking at him.

Steve glanced over his shoulder at Sam, who was standing there with arms crossed. He looked back at Loki. “You’re, um...you’ve been…” dead. Steve started over. “What do you last remember?”

Loki twitched, almost flinched. He licked his lips and swallowed, looking like he was about to sleep. And said something, but it was too hoarse to be intelligible.

“I’m sorry,” Steve said carefully. “I couldn’t understand that. Can you repeat yourself?” It must be the screaming, Steve realized. Leaving his throat raw.

He didn’t want to feel pity, but he still did.

Loki cleared his throat, coughed, and said three words, desperate, hollow-voiced, anguished. “Please kill me.”

Steve rocked back, horrified. “What happened to you?” He demanded. Loki laughed, and kept on laughing, like he was never going to stop.

[archivesdiveronarpg]

Congratulations, LUXE! You’ve been accepted for the role of MACBETH. Welcome back, Luxe! You have no idea how happy I that you applied for Macbeth once more. I don’t know what else I could say that I haven’t said before: you play at his best and worst qualities and it’s wonderful. You always get me hooked from the interview, to the para sample, to the extras that you made. The para sample, in particular, is what really clawed at my heart. He’s a beautiful, broken thing and you’ve captured that perfectly in a couple of paragraphs. We love our tragic man and I cannot wait to see him on the dash once more. Please read over the checklist and send in your blog within 24 hours.

                                                                             WELCOME TO THE MOB.

OUT OF CHARACTER

ALIAS | Hello loves! I’m Lux. Guess who’s back, back again? Maybe?

AGE | Twenty one.

PREFERRED PRONOUNS | She/her please!

ACTIVITY LEVEL | I’d like to consider myself a solid six or seven? I do have quite a lot of free time as my schooling is online and I only work part time. I find that even when I can’t find time to get on the dash, I try to plot pretty constantly so that my muses aren’t just sitting stagnant. However, I might have to start on a very small semi-hiatus, should I be accepted. Only for a week, and I won’t be absent the entire time. I just have a terrible case of strep throat and three classes to finish before the end of the year.

TIMEZONE | PST.

IN CHARACTER

CHARACTER | Mikael Falco, also known as the great and terrible Macbeth.

WHAT DREW YOU TO THIS CHARACTER? | I fell in love with Shakespeare from a very early age; I went from an illustrated and abridged collection of Shakespeare’s greatest plays when I was six to inheriting my mother’s The Complete Works of William Shakespeare that she’d scrawled all over in college courses. I deigned it absolutely vital to my educational experience to lug that massive volume back and forth to school every day when in sixth grade Honors English I was finally given an excuse to read Shakespeare. Macbeth has always been my favorite story of the great bard’s. I can still remember being weirdly unfazed as a small child, reading Macbeth and seeing specifically the image of the floating dagger, dripping in blood and hovering just out of Macbeth’s reach as he followed it, arm outstretched and chestnut curls clinging to his face. So, with all of that being said, Macbeth was naturally the very first character I looked at when I found Diverona. Seeing my beloved Macbeth as an Italian mafioso with such a beautifully adapted backstory led me to know that there was no point in looking any further. And, truth be told, Milo Ventimiglia is so well-suited for the role so he did have a bit of an impact on my decision.

WHAT IS A FUTURE PLOT IDEA YOU HAVE IN MIND FOR THE CHARACTER? | Oh goodness, I feel as though this is a bit of a loaded question? Obviously you lovely admins have plot progressions in mind and I have no idea how Mikael will fit in with particular portrayals of the characters, but here goes nothing! Mikael is an obvious suspect for the murder of Alvise. Too obvious, in fact, which leads me to believe it couldn’t have been him. He’s too careful to have slipped up now when so much is at stake for him. So, under that pretense, I imagine he’d take some interest in finding out who really was responsible. Of course, his main goal is to seize whatever scraps of power he can in the midst of all this chaos and hoard them away, somewhere the light can’t touch them, where not even Lucretia can get her hands on them. Some smaller goals of his, side quests if you will, include continuing to mess with Matthias, seeing how much more pressure it’ll take until he finally snaps, and, though I really don’t believe it happened with Alvise, I would love to see the classic plot of the Scottish Play go down in Diverona. It’s just too fun to pass up.

IN DEPTH

WHAT IS YOUR FAVORITE PLACE IN VERONA? |

Dark eyes narrowed at the question.  The answers which immediately presented themselves weren’t exactly the most APPROPRIATE.  STUCK SOMEWHERE INSIDE MY OWN DAMNED HEAD was too vague,  too foreboding.  Didn’t fit with the PERSONA.  IN MY WIFE’S BED was too VULGAR.  He forced himself to toss that one out as well,  tongue darting out between his lips as he thought.  Finally he found an answer spilling out of him,  though he wasn’t sure how TRUTHFUL it was.  ❛   The CATHEDRAL.  Obviously.❜  He chuckled,  fingering the cross at his neck a bit nervously,❛   Isn’t it EVERYONE’S  ?  Or have you been FORGETTING to go to confession,  my friend  ?  ❜  It wasn’t entirely untrue.  Nighttime found him on his knees,  apologetic words of ATONEMENT ripping themselves from between clenched teeth,  falling to the silk sheets like HOLY WATER TEARS.  Prayers,  yes,  but he knew no gods.  They were sacrificial words offered on a silver platter to the only ruling force in his life apart from his own bloody ambition  :  LUCRETIA.  And they never seemed to be ENOUGH to satiate her hunger for burnt offerings.

WHAT DOES YOUR TYPICAL DAY LOOK LIKE? |

The question sent LAUGHTER rumbling through him and he readjusted in his seat,  deep thought gone,  replaced with amusement and an urge to RECLINE comfortably.  ❛   That’s on a need to know basis.❜   he waited a beat before continuing,  smile still curling at. his mouth,  ❛And you don’t NEED TO KNOW.  Security reasons,  of course.  You understand,  don’t you  ?  I telL YOU where I’ll be Tuesday at three o’clock,  then you tell a FRIEND and suddenly my Tuesday is cut short by a BULLET to the head.  Now,  I don’t know about YOU,  but I prefer to spend my Wednesdays BREATHING.  And every other day,  of course.❜

WHAT ARE YOUR THOUGHTS ON THE WAR BETWEEN THE CAPULETS AND THE MONTAGUES? |  

❛   I THINK,❜  he began, eyebrows raised. A bemused expression had settled gracefully onto the hard lines of an age-worn face,  and he was trying very hard to mask the thought behind his response,  swirling the contents of his glass and staring deep into the liquor as it sloshed in the crystal,  ❛   I think war makes men afraid,  and fear makes them SLOPPY.  ❜ Though ever so carefully preceded by an assurance that the words which drip like honey from chapped lips are merely thoughts,  flickering ideas and nothing to be taken SERIOUSLY,  his tone conveyed quite the opposite.  It was a FIRM assertment,  the practiced answer of a man who has lain awake asking himself the same question too many nights to count.  ❛They make MISTAKES,  and then other people are left to clean up the mess.  Step into their shoes.❜  He took a swallow from the glass before setting it back on the table at his elbow,  savoring the BITE as it flowed scraping down his throat like glass finely ground.  Remembering himself,  Mikael forced a chuckle and leaned back in the armchair,  legs spread solidly apart,  offering up a crooked smile.  Lucretia tells him the half of his mouth that’s always stuck,  FROZEN in place,  reveals his true nature.  His true INTENT.  That it gives him away,  no matter how hard he might try to play into the contented disposition he’s crafted for himself to wear in the daylight.  He’d never tell her,  but it’s moments like these he thinks she’s RIGHT.

IN-CHARACTER PARA SAMPLE |

❛   Forgive me,  Father,  for I have SINNED. ❜   The words tumbled from his lips before he knew what he was saying.  His heart had suddenly become a ticking time bomb,  threatening to shatter his ribs and send pieces of him splattered across the cement.  Trembling head to toe,  Mikael stumbled backwards a few steps,  eyes black and WIDE as they surveyed the growing pool of blood at his feet.  She was so YOUNG.  As ice cold and steely as he had made himself,  collateral damage sometimes had the ability to WRENCH the bubbling tar pit hidden away in his chest where a heart should be.  He swore loudly and forced himself to turn from the crime scene he’d just created,  shaking hands rising to smooth back already perfect hair.  A nervous habit if he ever had one.  

❛   FORGIVE me,  Father,  for I have sinned.  ❜   The sentiment presented itself on his tongue once more,  and he spat it at the grimy brick wall,  slamming his palms against it as hard as he can manage,  stifling both a scream and the BILE rising in his throat.

It seemed an eternity later before he finally turned back to the girl lying dead in the alley.  Not a death she deserved,  but this wasn’t ABOUT her.  No,  it was about sending a MESSAGE.  The message,  at the moment,  appeared to be that his guilty conscience was turning his stomach into a VOLCANO.  Faintly,  the realization hit him that his hands were bleeding,  palms bruised and BROKEN from his outburst.  

❛   SLOPPY,  ❜   he chided himself angrily,  hands rising to his head once more,  grabbing handfuls of dark hair and TUGGING with a nervous ferocity the likes of which he had never known.  Mikael felt lips lips moving of their own accord,  saying a whispered Hail Mary as his eyes squeezed shut so tightly his eyelids threatened to POP.  Still somehow,  tears managed to curl under thick lashes and streamed quietly down his face,  fists now pounding at his temples.  He had been warned that the first kill was the WORST.  But THIS  ?  This ravaging GUILT that threatened to crack him open from the inside and send whatever FRAGMENTED soul he had spiralling into the dirt  ?  He FORCED himself to bite his tongue,  stop spewing whatever religious nonsense he knew he hadn’t believed in YEARS.  

He inhaled shakily and tight fists unwound from his own dark locks.  Calloused fingertips pressed into his eyes before sliding down his face,  collecting hot tears and flicking them away with a disgust yet unmatched in his repertoire of emotion.  He allowed himself one last GLANCE at the poor young thing on the group,  eyes wide open and GLASSY.  Allowing himself one more show of emotion  —  he was ALONE,  after all  —  he strode to the girl’s side and carefully knelt beside her.  Tugging the handkerchief from his breast pocket,  Mikael wrapped the cold silk around one hand and PLUCKED his father’s crucifix from where it sat,  clutched in the lifeless hand of his very first VICTIM.  

❛  DAMN.  ❜   The clasp was broken,  though he suspected it could be fixed.  It would reside in his pocket until then.  As he was about to stand,  Mikael had a THOUGHT.  He stuffed the kerchief back into his pocket,  the idea now taking root in him and steading his resolve anew.  Brow furrowed and head cocked to one side,  a smile crept across thin lips as Mikael gingerly dipped one thumb into the puddle of blood at his feet.  With it he made a delicate,  CRIMSON sign of the cross on the girl’s forehead before careful fingertips ghosted over her eyes,  shutting them.  

❛  You can have PEACE now,  ❜   he murmured,  halfway jealous of the girl’s departure from whatever troubles she had left behind in life,  ❛   The Lord has taken possession of your soul,  and you are FREE.  ❜  There were no GODS.  It was a fact he had always known.  Perhaps the first step to becoming a god himself,  he thought,  was this.  After all,  KILLING must feel good to God,  too.  He does it all the time.

EXTRAS | Unfortunately, I wasn’t able to do as many extras as I normally like doing, but I did make A PINTEREST BOARD as well as A PLAYLIST for my love Mikael! I also couldn’t help myself and I did SOMETHING A LITTLE ON THE SILLIER SIDE.