#soon Murphy

[ariparri]

The Former Jack of Spades

HPHM Cardverse Masterlist

Tag List: @catohphm @lifeofkaze @eternalchaoschocolaterain @oneirataxia-girl

If you want to be updated on content for the AU, especially for the lore, let me know and I'll put you on the tag list!

Duncan doesn’t catch a break does he? I could have given him a good life, but no I like the angst.

I know I was struggling to pick a color scheme for his appearance. In the end, the brown hair and black eyes spoke to me more xD I also wanted to give him a lighter color scheme in contrast to Coby's dark one. It’s a nice contrast to their characters.

❌ NO REPOSTING ❌

———————————————————

Duncan Ashe, the esteemed Jack of Spades, also known as the Chancellor. Before his role, he was a mischief maker and enjoyed causing trouble alongside his friend, Coby McQuaid. Since they are good friends, Duncan acts as the voice of reason for the ambitious King Coby. They share a strong bond and both comrades can rely on the other in times of need. Even as Coby is the King, Duncan still refers to him by name rather than his title. Coby would even insist that their friendship shouldn't be treated differently due to their roles.

Duncan is a calm and flexible leader with universal capabilities. Praised for his determination and cunning, he does his best to inspire several of the younger members of his court, as he finds them to be the hope for their country should something happen to him. He carefully arranges his words to be as concise as possible; his eyes catch onto minute details; his actions are never wasted. Whenever a problem occurs, he acts upon the most efficient solution available to him.

Like with his second in command, Jacob Cromwell, Duncan also viewed Rakepick with suspicion and confided in him, "Patricia Rakepick is a person who does her actions on her own accord and will one day be someone who cannot serve under another." He then told Veruca to avoid the Ace at all costs after her brother's death. Rakepick and Duncan’s ideals would clash when it came to running Spades now that Coby wasn’t around. Duncan became worried when Rakepick was issuing stricter laws and rules over the country against his approval. His predictions of her character proved correct as she took full control not too long afterward.

There was too much tension between the Jack and Ace, the entire country could see it. And it wouldn’t be too long if Duncan had gained the support from the people to dismiss Rakepick from her position. Knowing he had to be dealt with immediately, Rakepick had invited Duncan to the clocktower under false pretenses that she was willing to let him handle human affairs. However, Duncan was aware of what Rakepick was planning and cut their conversation short by drawing his weapon. The two officials engaged in a duel, Rakepick having more experience in combat had no problems holding her own against Duncan. While he had more skills in marksmanship, Duncan was a decent swordsman. Rakepick commended Duncan for his insight, especially when he figured out what she had originally intended for him. Yet mocked him for thinking she’d be the one to deal the final blow. Duncan was caught off guard when he got stabbed in the back. When he finally sees who the perpetrator was, he is more than shocked to see the director of the museum, Verucca Buckthorn-Snyde brandishing a knife. The two women left Duncan in the clocktower. If the poison didn’t kill him, the blood loss would.

When it was announced that Duncan was assassinated, many of the people mourned his death. Some time after the civil war, and Veruca had claimed the throne, a monument was made as a memorial of Duncan. The country still celebrates his birthday with people placing flowers by his monument. Only a few people know that Duncan’s ghost haunts the clocktower. Rowan Khanna seeks Duncan’s advice on her position as the new Jack. Veruca, Olivia, and some members of Duncan’s court visit him just to keep him company.

[borgialucrezia]

TOMMY: where's arthur? LINDA: he went for a walk down the river. he said he's not good at farewells so he's decided to go and catch a trout instead.

peaky blinders — 6x06 created by steven knight

[kobadit]

Coin Trick Lesson Robocop / Detroit: Become Human Scene from the fic "Metal of Man" by jjdgssp

[sin-deciric]

I was waiting for these two to get together, according to me Megan had already suffered too much with her "boyfriend" and deserved to be happy with Charlie. I was left as 🤡🤡🤡

[pistachions]

Final stage of grief: acceptance (referring to mml s3 as 'if we got' instead of 'when we get')

[cillixn]

I'm gonna need Cillian edited as a cat lady

does this work for you

[sparethcsympathy]

PLEASE LIKE THIS IF YOU WISH TO BE MAINS WITH MY MUSES The only thing I do ask of you is that if there is a certain muse you want, please write in the comments on who you want. It doesn't matter how many you want. but least i know if i ever send memes, or starters for y'all i know WHO YOU WANT already.

DOING THIS BECAUSE if anything needs organization it's this damn blog. lmao. Hello yes, to have things going on this blog I think i gotta make it organized, and see who wants to do things with my muses. If we are mains it means i will work on our threads first, the memes you send me will be worked on as well. any ideas you want, you can throw it my way without an issue ! also forming ooc connections along with our ic connections. if you want to ship, we don't have to go through the process of friends,or strangers-- we can establish the relationship between our muses. I am doing this to be more organized on my blog, and seeing who actually wants to interact with any of my muses to begin with.

Please, I ask of you-- trust it's annoying I know lmao. but do leave which muses you want for your muses if you are a multi-muse. As much as you want. I do crossovers do please throw in something you always wanted to do ! and those who aren't multi-blogs well just comment on which muses you want for your muses as well. To anyone who wants to be my main you will be my priority !! All the edits, all the love and all the plotting we can work on together !! ooc chit-chats and forming many amazing dynamics ! Headcanons, you name it !!! So please like this, and comment on who you want. I will also list names of my muses below to make it easier for y'all. go nuts. toss your oc's at my muses. whatever you want.

boys :

twd male muses : rick , daryl , oc jack smith , alden The boys : soldier boy, homelander, a-train, boomer ( ppg adapted to the boys ) you male muses : joe riverdale male muses : jughead , sweetpea , archie horror series muses : chucky , ghostfact caos male muses : nick until dawn : mike soa : jax taller last of us : joel Got : ramsay

girls :

twd female muses : maggie , rosita , michonne, beth the boys : starlight, bubbles ( ppg adapted to the boys ) you female muses : beck , peach riverdale female muses : betty horror series muses : tiffany caos male muses : sabrina got : sansa

[katykatyykaty]

[wyvernquill]

Another Dreamling Anastasia AU Snippet

So, this AU somehow gained some new traction over the past few days, and I remembered I still had this in my drafts! It's a direct continuation from the last post - the first time their paths cross, though I think I'll save their actual first conversation (already written!) for the next part. Mostly a lot of background and exposition, but I hope it'll be enjoyable nonetheless! Thanks everyone for your enthusiasm for this AU!!!

(Masterpost here!)

(Tag list, let me know if you want to be added or taken off: @10moonymhrivertam @martybaker @globglobglobglobob @anonymoustitans @sunshines-fabulous-legs @dreamsofapiratelife @malice-royaume @kcsandmanfan @acedragontype @okilokiwithpurpose @tharkuun @silver-dream89 @i-write-stories-not-sins-bitch)

(I don't know why it just won't let me do the proper tag sometimes... I hope the people Tumblr refuses to let me tag will see the post anyway, I'm very sorry...)

---

There is a fight just about to break loose at the White Horse Inn.

It will happen because of a man; a pale, stick-thin skinny thing of a man, barely more than an ashen, grimy face under a mop of coal hair balanced on top of a ragged black coat, loitering close to the fireplace and trying not to be too obvious about soaking up its warmth. At his feet, half hidden beneath the torn hem-line of his coat, there is a bird, some sort of corvid, following the other guests - and their purses in particular - with its beady little eyes.

The bird’s master is watching, too, watching the inn’s staff collect coins and shove them into their pockets, watching the plates and bowls of food being carried about, hungry, starving-

And then he’s noticed watching, a barmaid muttering a word or two to the innkeep over by the beer caskets - and the moment the man’s eyes find the stranger, they narrow.

And in turn, the moment the stranger notices the hostile eyes on him, he seems to brace himself, something feral in the way his lips draw back from his teeth as the innkeep makes a beeline for him through the crowded pub.

Words are exchanged.

Words are exchanged, loudly.

An arm is grabbed - and the bird jumps up with an angry caw, beating its wings at the innkeep’s face, and the scullery boy runs over to help, as does the burliest of the barmaids.

(There’s that fight now.)

The stranger shouts and scratches and twists as he is dragged through the common room, towards the door, growling profanities in a hoarse, dark voice, while his bird squawks, wrapped in the scullery boy’s apron.

It’s a right mess, but perhaps not an unusual one - the White Horse makes quick work of unruly drunkards (and those who are here to pilfer money rather than spend it), and even as some guests are following the fight in fascination and with half a mind to join in just for the pleasure of throwing a punch, most of their clientele barely spares them a look. Soon, the stranger will be cast out into the cold and the night again, far away from the warmth of a fireplace, or the smell of food, or opportunities for thievery. Nothing special. Soon, it will be just a quiet evening, like any other…

If it weren’t for the fact that, over in the far corner, a familiar man, and a familiar something-altogether-else still managing a rather sound impression of one, have been nursing their drinks for a good hour already, trying to drown their failures in ale.

(The humans have robbed Destiny of his powers, torn his realm from him, burned his book - but destiny still shapes the lives of mortals and immortals alike; and it is that power, which makes Robert Gadling look up from the sad remains of his beer, and, for just a fraction of a second, lock eyes with the vagabond currently in the process of being removed from the premises.

That is enough.

With just one look, the wheels of fate are already set in motion, and our story can begin in earnest.)

"Hey, Gil." Hob nudges Gilbert's arm, not taking his eyes off the struggling, furious stranger. "Over there. Look."

"Hm?" Gilbert blinks owlishly, following Hob's nod to the commotion behind him. "Oh, yes, yes. Ghastly, isn't it? Disgraceful, that some hoodlums cannot conduct themselves in public houses with the appropriate decorum - in my days, I tell you, when the Endless were still-"

"No, look!" Hob cuts him off. "The hoodlum. Look at him, really look."

"Hrmmm," Gilbert makes a sound of polite displeasure, and fiddles with his circular little glasses, peering through them and across the room, where the haggard stranger is spitting abuse at the innkeep even as he is in the process of being shoved out of the door.

And then, "oh, good lord!" Gilbert gasps, and drops his glasses.

"You see it too, then?"

"I… yes. Gracious, yes. Like a ghostly apparition." Gilbert gropes for his glasses with one hand, eyes never leaving the stranger. "The physical resemblance - most uncanny. A good deal more malnourished and, ah… rather grimy, it seems… and yet, overall…"

"A dead ringer for Dream of the Endless, isn't he?" Hob finishes, nodding. “Better than any of the men that auditioned for us, certainly.”

“Heaven help,” Gilbert’s voice is weak with emotion, “even knowing it isn’t him, I feel like… ah, Robert, if he were only given a bath, some better garb… it would be as if His Lordship walked again!”

“Would be?” Hob’s grin is bright and hungry, like a hunting dog smelling his prey, as he pushes himself up from his seat. “Will be!”

“-and if I see either you or yer blasted bird thievin’ in here again," the innkeep snarls, tossing first the haggard stranger, and then a squawking bundle of black feathers, out into the snow. “I’m callin’ the coppers! Y’hear?”

The word the stranger spits back, gathering all his limbs and his dark coat around himself as he staggers to his feet and off into the night, is so filthy even Hob would blush upon saying it. A bit rough around the edges, this man, not exactly the model of a fairytale king - but such things can be taught, can’t they. Hob’s seen a production of Shaw’s Pygmalion, years ago, and if Higgins can make a fine lady out of a flower girl, then Hob and Gil can make a Dream Lord out of some vagabond.

“Begging your pardon, good man.” Hob leans against the doorframe, watching the stranger’s dark shape angrily stomp off through the snow, bird hopping along at his side. “Howsabout this, a shilling for anything you can tell me about the man you just tossed out of your establishment.”

“Whot, Murphy!?” The innkeep blinks. 

Holds out his hand.

Hob dutifully deposits one of his last few shillings in it.

“Thank you kindly, sir, much obliged.” A tip of the hat, and the coin disappearing in the innkeep’s pocket. “Murphy’s one of the local beggars. A filthy thief, too, and no mistake. He’s trained that raven of his into it - heard the city even pays him some little pittance to control the birds in the area! They wouldn’t do it if they knew what he was doing with ‘em. I don’t like seein’ him around the Horse, not with the trouble he’s causing. Stealing leftover scraps from tables I can forgive, might even give him a full meal now and then in the name of charity - but if he goes for the pockets of my regulars, the regulars don’t come back, understand? Can’t have that.”

“Course not.” Hob agrees readily. “Bad for business, a pickpocket.”

“Just so, sir. He’s been in the London area for… oh, eight, nine, maybe ten years? Hasn’t got a trade, not very willing to do an honest day’s work in any case, can’t hold down a job for the life of him as a result. Still thinks himself better than the rest o’ us, anyway. I’d leave him alone, if I were you - he’s vicious as all Hell, bit the kitchen boy once and the lad needed to get his arm stitched up afterwards. And that raven - the thing’s a demon, swear to God. A familiar, like witches have. If we were livin’ in a less civilised age, they’d’ve strung old Murphy up for witchcraft and devilry years ago!”

Hob hums thoughtfully. “Do you know if he has fallen in with that crowd? Not idle hearsay, mind, but facts. There’s still some men in London who practise the Old Arts, does he meet with them?”

(Hob has heard that the old Magus of Wych Cross died perhaps a year or two after his greatest accomplishment; for all his powers that tore Endless spectres from their lofty thrones, in the end he couldn’t defend himself against his own son finally snapping, smothering him in his sleep, and running off with the gardener. Good riddance to the old goat, in Hob’s opinion - but he had a good handful of supporters in every major city, and they can’t all have died with him.)

The innkeep takes his time answering, staring out into the softly-falling snow.

“...not that I know of, sir.” He finally says, cautiously. “He doesn’t meet with anyone, really, ‘xcept the birds. Solitary type, is our Murphy, with no family, and no-one to miss him if he freezes himself to death some night. But.”

A pause.

“There’s something wrong about that man, if you ask me. He has a look in his eyes… whatever it is, it’s not natural. Might be magic. Might be madness. I really couldn’t say.”

“I see.” Gears are turning in Hob’s head, puzzle pieces slotting into place, plans unfolding.

A man sleeping rough, with nobody to miss him or know much of him, fierce and angry and constantly on the brink of starvation, looking just like Dream. A diamond in the rough, and quite possibly desperate enough to actually agree to their mad plan just for a few weeks of guaranteed food and a roof over his head.

Dear God. He’s perfect.

“One more question, about Murphy.” Hob beams, half-giddy. “Where do you think I could find him, say… tomorrow?”

The innkeep’s eyebrows rise up into his hair.

“Can’t see why you’d ever want to,” he mutters into his beard. “But very well. On your head be it.”

He names a nearby small park, where Murphy often goes to feed his birds, and is rewarded for it with another tuppence; and then Hob saunters back to his and Gil’s table, already feeling like he can almost taste the promise of eternal life on the tip of his tongue.

(“We cannot know for certain that he will agree, Robert. He sounds like a most prideful young man - he is much like His Lordship in that regard as well, I suppose.”

“Oh, he’ll agree. I’ve been where he is, Gil, and there were times I would’ve sold my own mother to the devil for a warm meal and a bed to sleep in. Not that the devil would’ve taken the old bat even if I’d paid him, of course, but it’s the principle of the thing.”

“That hardly makes it much better. We’d be taking advantage of the poor man’s unfortunate situation!”

“Everyone’s situation is unfortunate these days. And we’d be improving his, on the whole, along with ours.”

“Let it be noted, dear fellow, that I am voicing my ethical and moral quandaries.”

“I really don’t think our plan to scam the Endless is very ethical in the first place, Gil.”

“...now that I cannot possibly argue with.”

“There we are then.”

“However! You will have to be the one to suggest it. I will help you instruct him and present him to the Endless if you do convince him - but for now, I wash my hands of the matter.”

“Fair enough.”)

[querido-eh-dump]

End of May or early June..

(June, it's june as always i'm late) Happy Pride everybody [:

[connorjared]

connor and evan are foils to each other in the book. connor is a sheep in wolf's clothing and evan is a wolf in sheep's clothing

[everett-fornow]

mw when i remember my skrimbly skroinkies run a torture ring

ignore my excessive use of red gradients

[hallucinateonpaperspines]

Hello there! *lightsaber noises in the background*

I hope you have a wonderful time! (hehe TIME :)) as in “Of Timelines and Trolleys” *wink wink* which I love with all my heart and soul and simply can’t wait to read more of)

Disclaimer: I want to state that I will wait as long as necessary and this isn’t an attempt to rush you to post cuz I know you have a real life and you do this out of the kindness of your heart (although our poor tormented blorbos might disagree on this part)

That being said I just wanted to let you know that I am soooooooo grateful for your fics! I love the way you write, it makes me laugh and connect and really immerse myself within the narrative!

Ash is such a round character with conflicting emotions. Poor baby is doomed by the narrative even though she is definitely fighting tooth and nail to undoom herself.🙃 Honestly I’m team Ratchet and feel the urge to wrap her in a blanket burrito and hold her forever🌯

So without ranting for too long thank u goddess for feeding us and take care of yourself! You are loved by strangers on the internet (cuz that’s not creepy at all:)))))

And since I’m here I am going to go for it and humbly beg of you for a little tinny winny sneak peek 🥺 (my love and appreciation are not conditioned by it but I would giggle and screech with joy if you would bestow upon me such a treat)

✨THANK YOU!!!✨

*walks back and disappears into oblivion while waving and blowing kisses*

Awwwwwww, thank you that's so sweet!😅😁

The next chapter is like halfway there and I'm hoping to post it sometime this week. I'm really proud of how it's turning out (a lot is happening here) so I do want to keep it close to my chest for now.

That said, I am a sucker for you guys, so here's some sneak peak dialogue!

Spoiler content ahead!

“You remember- I told you about the science fiction club?”

“Yes, Jack, I remember. Raf and that exchange student the Smiths are housing are part of it right?”

“Miko. And there was someone else.”

“The ‘cousin’ Serria asked me about?”

“-cousin?”

“Cornered me in the produce aisle, right next to the carrots. Serria asked me about her, something about colleges and when she’d be back in town. Nosey girl. I thought you were hiding a girlfriend from me.”

---

“Well. Thats that, then. She’s dead. See to the family, Bill, and make sure nothing like this happens again.”

“If it does?”

“We cannot set a precedent for leaving behind deceased civilians as well as property damage. It happens again and you will be terminated from your position and any witnesses will be reallocated immediately. The aliens do not get a say in government matters.”

“What do I tell the family?”

“She’s a runaway and they won the lottery. Simmons can help you with the details. Just keep it quick and simple. This would be easier if we had a body to stage something. Leave your files with Murphy, Donna’s out on maturity leave. And Bill…”

“Sir.”

“See if you can see what the Moore Family knows.”

---

“What’s the matter Bulkhead? Lose your edge now that you don’t have a fleshy to hide behind?”

“Where is she?!?”

“Oh, I think you know where. You bots know how to pick ‘em, I’ll give you that. The bug didn’t even scream. Wonder if your other pet will.”

---

“W-we have a hostage. The Decepticons could trade.”

“And why would MECH be interested in that?”

[thcbclter]

"what is the point of having security if they let anyone in who flashes them a dazzling smile and happens to have a $50 bill in their pocket?" akila sighs as she sees the blond approach her. setting her book down, she crosses her bikini clad legs and pushes her sunglasses to the top of her head. "if you're looking for finn, he is not home." // @bruiscdmouth

[z0mbie2b0y]

Sincerely three, my beloved

[its-haughty]

Here are the main antags who are currently tracking down Jessie AND Ernest after the cyborg goes rogue and decides to ditch the mission

Basic description lol: Murphy is an Anomaly currently being contained at PIE but for the sake of the mission, he’s allowed out as he is one of the ONLY few people in Vivacity with the power to stabilise Jessie’s powers/gimmicks- this is because while Jessie has supernaturally good luck, Murphy has supernaturally bad luck. If the two were to be in close proximity, their gimmicks would cancel each other out!! It seems as though Murphy has a personal vendetta against the man too, but it’s unclear why…

Shane, currently working at PIE as a bounty hunter, is linked up with Murphy to make sure they don’t attempt to escape. Unlike Ernest, Shane is a whole lot more detached. He isn’t lonely and is severely damaged during an undisclosed incident involving the forceful removal of his voice box and right eye… Murphy and Shane are very mysterious characters indeed oooooooh…!!!

Extra trivia under the cut!!!!

Murphy

Murphy’s gimmicks make him a Chimera, he’s a harbinger of catastrophe!!!

Murphy’s special interest is natural disasters- finding them personally really interesting. Their interest also includes rigged games and specifically the enjoyment of beating the odds and Winning: which translates to a really bad gambling addiction before they was contained by PIE

It’s design has elements of animals that symbolise bad luck (cat tail, crow wing, bat ear) and fortune when it comes to gambling/animals related to gambling lol (elephant tusk, pigeon wing)

Shane

:D