#(Everyone throw stones at the brother killer)

[blakeshaw-oracle]

Max, excited that he's getting closer and closer to figuring out The Grabber's identity: Al, isn't this something? He's become what we in the investigating business call a "hot story".

Al, grabbing his axe: And you've become what we in the murder business call "next".

[talaok]

i loved the hickey fic🥵

can i request a role reversal fic?

reader marks up joel and is unashamed about it

Pairing: Joel Miller x reader

a/n: thank you love, hope you'll like this although its been so long you probably forgot about this. and if you're interested, this is the fic they were referring to

It was just you and Ellie in the kitchen this morning. You were laughing about another funny dream she had last night, this one involving Joel trying to tame a gigantic sheep so he could ride it or something, she didn't quite remember the purpose, not that it mattered.

But as you both quite literally felt on the verge of tears from the image the dream was painting in your minds, the main character of said dream, appeared in the doorway, throwing you both a dirty look as if watching two of the three people he loved the most in this entire world didn't fill his old heart with pure joy.

"It's too early to be this chipper" he grumbled, walking to you to leave a quick kiss on your cheek as he reached for the coffee pot behind you.

A gasp sounded from the other sound of the counter

"oh my god what happened to your neck?!" 

And it was then, that Joel Miller, the unafraid, stone-cold killer of a man that he was, turned red from hairline to neck.

"O-Oh fuck I-" His eyes widened, his hand going to cover your work on his neck, but it was all useless, because the second Ellie's eyes landed on the smirk plastered on your face, she knew.

"oh my god ew" she groaned, rolling her eyes, her focus going back to the eggs on her plate.

"You remember Janine, that woman I told you about?" you explained, talking to her

She laughed at that, remembering your conversation about that woman who's always flirting with Joel.

"you filled Joel's neck with hickeys because of her?"

Joel wasn't even red anymore, he was turning purple, his eyes were wider than a deer's caught in the headlights, and you suspected he hadn't taken a breath since he first entered the kitchen.

"this..." you smiled, trailing your fingers on Joel's neck "is my own little way of telling her to keep her hands off my man"

Joel choked, he literally choked on his own saliva and just then, just when he was about to have a heart attack, Tommy entered the house, his eyes immediately going to the image before him with more than a little amusement.

"What have I walked into?" he grinned, walking over to the kitchen "And why does my brother look a breath away from exploding?" he laughed, his hands gesturing to Joel.

"y/n here was giving me way too much information that I certainly didn't want to know" Ellie explained, looking at you pointedly for the last part of her sentence, making you chuckle.

"About what?" Tommy asked

"About the work of art I left on your brother's neck"

"wha-Ohhh" he breathed, smiling like a smug bastard as he understood what you were talking about "Janine tried something again I presume?" 

"You presume right" you smiled, giving Joel a little kiss on the cheek and stifling a smile at how terrified he seemed "for the last time"

"You ok baby?" you asked, stroking his cheek

His gaze was on Ellie, his mouth parted in shock.

"You still with us man?" she asked, giggling softly, making him shake his head to try and get his mind to start working again.

And then, then the words came tumbling off his tongue, filled with what sounded like pure panic

"S-since when do you know what a hickey is!?"

Everyone in the room except him laughed, but when the shock on his features persisted, and Ellie regained her composure, she answered.

"I'm not a kid Joel, I know what sex is"

Another pang to his poor heart, 

he felt all the organs inside him twist into a knot

what the fuck was happening?

Did she just say-

"sex!?" he cried, looking a second away from having a mental breakdown "I-I never said sex- H-how do you even know- I- You- You're too young- I-I"

"ok ok ok" you tried your best not to chuckle, intervening before his heart really decided to stop "How 'bout we go outside for a moment huh? Take a few deep breaths? How about that?" you murmured, soothingly drawing circles on his back 

He looked at you then, looking every bit as disheveled as he sounded 

"y-yeah" he swallowed thickly, "I-I think that's a good idea"

He looked back at Ellie for a moment to make sure this wasn't a nightmare and he didn't just make that up, before you both left the room.

And as if on cue, the second you did, Tommy and Ellie started laughing like maniacs.

"I don't think I've ever seen him so scared" Ellie laughed, as Tommy sat next to her, patting her back

"Neither have I" he chuckled, none of them saying anything before an idea came to his mind.

a hell of a funny one

"ten bucks if you tell him you know what porn is"

[nightmareishomophobic]

Okay so you don't even have to answer this I just wanted to show people my passive Nightmare design and lore dump abt him😭😭😭 there will be religious themes in this lore so you don't have to read if you are uncomfortable with that (as well as transphobia and bullying)

TLDR also at the end

Okay so I headcanon Nightmare as a trans man and also panromantic-demisexual. He also grew up in a hyper-religuous society where it was not okay for him specifically to identify as male (since he was made by Nim, who was heavily worshiped and everyone was like "no she couldn't make a.mistake like that when making Nightmare, she must be delusional and we shouldn't take her seriously) so like that's how the bullying for him sort of started, and it even got to the point that Dream was influenced by the villagers to not take him seriously, so throughout the years Nightmare just bottled up all that hate until he ate the apples and turned his brother to stone

Also Nightmare would go blind after eating the apples (him and Dream having sight was veiwed as a very big privilege, and he sinned by eating the apples so they took away the ability for him to see). This honestly makes it way scarier for Nightmare after he throws up all over himself and turns into the goopy guy we all know and love

Also passive for me is personally the same as corrupted Nightmare, just very clouded by hate and also scared

So after he gets corrupted and all that he only gets around by sensing peoples emotions and finds Killer who is like a seeing eye dog basically💀💀💀he helps him cause terror and protects him and in return Killer gets shelter and out of his AU. Same with the rest of the gang

So TLDR; Nightmare grew up in a religious society where they didn't like him being transgender and he ate the apples after he couldn't take it anymore, goes blind in the process. Bad Sanses are basically his service dogs who cause chaos for him

Sorry for yapping sm bro😭😭😭have a good day!

Hehejehrbehjehebehjehehejge

Second favrouite character unlocked >:3

[themsource]

Circus BSP AU

Soooo...had an idea that's been on my mind a while. Decided to share it because I know I haven't updated anything in a bit and I've been so busy with Secret Santas x_x

Anyways it's a long ramble from my ideas folder, not a real written piece, but I'm placing it below a cut ^^ This idea came to me while listening to Panic! At The Disco's cover of The Greatest Show a while back. I don't know if this has been done before but meh, just wanted to post my take on a circus au with the baddies

Rating: M

TWs: Mentions of torture, Kidnapping, Enslavement, Near Drowning

Nightmare and Dream own their own opposing circus rings. Dream recruits willing participants and their shows are always about love and positivity with graceful displays of athletics like ribbon dancing and aerial silk suspension, baton twirling and contortion, even godly fast speed painting with neon glowing soul magic to show an individual's ultimate dream even if they don’t know it themselves and store it in a personalized orb to take home as a memento for personalized viewing whenever you please. 

Nothing risky or seemingly life threatening/daredevil stunted. 

No, that’s Nightmare’s theme. 

In contrast he doesn’t recruit, he steals and binds individuals into contracts that can only be broken at his word or their untimely death should it occur. His ring has all the horrifying and thrilling shows that leave the audience anxious and on their toes, like sword swallowing/knife throwing/nail walking/fire breathing (Killer), Lions and Tigers - many dangerous animal performances (Horror), highwire/cannonball (Dust), and Motorcycle acts like the Wall of death and globe of terror (Cross). 

Nets and other safety precautions are ignored, this is the highlight and draw of Nightmare’s circus alongside the ability for one of your “nightmares” to be engraved on a stone tablet using soul magic so you never have to experience them again once the show is over.

Whereas Dream gives away positivity to spread through the worlds, Nightmare collects negativity in a personal vault for his own sustenance (the stone tablets) while still supplementing what he takes with the experiences his circus gives. 

This is the point of contention with the brothers. Dream doesn’t like how Nightmare still puts out negativity while also taking it away - it’s a selfish redundancy in his mind and perceived as unbalance, and Nightmare feels the same about how Dream puts out positivity with his circus but doesn’t take any away not only making his job more difficult to keep the flows even but causing him more suffering with how positive a world will be once Dream holds a performance.

The brother’s once owned a circus together but it broke apart with Nightmare’s downfall. 

Everyone was eager to see Dream perform but didn’t care for Nightmare’s escape acts and often boo’d and shamed him leaving the worlds they tried to equally balance always too filled with positivity. One day Nightmare almost died attempting to perform a dangerous escape stunt that he’d concocted to try and gain the audience’s approval, and just when it seemed to be working he ran out of magic (having not slept or ate well as he should’ve the night before when he’d been practicing) and nearly drowned. 

Dream was able to pull him free and save him but it took the last of their dead mother’s apples which proved too powerful and shattered Nightmare who was left horrified at what he’d become - a true reflection of ‘a demon’ as people called him, and led to him abandoning Dream to go his own way as the too much positivity started causing him pain and to go into frenzied breakdowns that he’d frequently black out through.

Since then Nightmare has not performed an escape act again and now solely plays ringleader. His innate trauma when it comes to performing is what led to him deciding to bring others into his fold to accomplish his goals, though he doesn’t let anyone know that. 

He contracted Killer, Dust, Horror, and then Cross in that order. Stealing them away from their own personal hells he found them in when noticing how fearless they were in the face of horrors far worse than what he had devised, and how equally terrifying their own appearances and auras were and would contribute to the overall effect he was going for. To get them to sign, he tortured them in never ending loops of nightmares, uncaring for how it affected them until they agreed. 

Killer was forced to experience going numb and filling with emotion on and off again repeatedly, the pain of switching so rapidly sending him into a spiral until he begged to be freed. 

Horror was forced to watch his fellow monsters dust and suffer the insanity inducing hunger wracking his frame as if fresh over and over as his brother kept mutating before his eyes. 

Dust had to watch his brother dust before his eyes repeatedly at his own hand no matter how much he fought against it, the pain of which was always too much each reset he experienced in his own world but in the nightmare without the time to breathe between each death and no goal of stopping the human in mind Dust cracked. 

Cross was sent into isolation, only it was so much worse as he didn’t have the ability to communicate with himself (even trying to think to himself and hold an imaginary conversation didn’t work) and could only experience the slow crawling of time as a sharp cutting sensation across his bones.

At first the gang all understandably despise Nightmare and what he forces them to do but he’s uncaring of it. However slowly the boys begin to find actual enjoyment in their work and bonding together as they come up with new routine ideas which they loathsomely try to share with Nightmare. 

Nightmare begins to feel impressed, even enthused though he doesn’t show it at their forwardness and makes recommendations for how to better execute their ideas while approving them. This causes the boys to begin feeling a sense of freedom and control they haven’t felt in years even before being stolen away but they still don’t soften to Nightmare even as Nightmare begins to soften just a bit to them at their willingness.

It isn’t until Nightmare and his trope encounter Dream and his that the boys end up feeling anything at all other than hate to the dark lord. 

They witness the exchange between Dream and Nightmare, the hostility Nightmare has when he and Dream argue over who has the right to be in this world first as Dream speaks in passive aggressive words about Nightmare’s awful decision making and unbalanced influence which Nightmare scoffs at before turning the argument petty as he remarks over Dream’s soft and impassioned performances. 

The second Dream comments about how his trope is a work of art while Nightmare’s is nothing more than ‘a glorified torture show’ the boy’s hackles raise - offended, not liking how Dream assumes they hate what they do (not anymore at least) which makes his trope’s performances more genuine and better since they’re willing. 

The boys witness the face Dream makes of regret at Nightmare’s bitter parting (dream’s words having surprisingly irked him) but don’t say a word. Instead they sneak in that night to watch Dream’s so called ‘better performances’ and are left feeling bored, and commenting on how it’s too bright, too sparkly and how they can do so much better. 

‘at least with us the crowd are actually on their feet.’ Killer huffs. ‘yeah, screaming too.’ Horror drawls. ‘I like the ribbons, not gonna lie.’ as Cross tosses back a handful of popcorn and earns amused scoffs from the others. Dust gives a rare smirk. ‘i have an idea.’ 

Nightmare is in his room, staring down at an old faded paper article that looks as if it might crumble into ash at the faintest breeze while he tries to ignore the pain in his chest from the positivity flooding the air. It’s a headline advertising his old act, the one that led to his transformation, when Killer walks in. Killer notices the article before Nightmare manages to fold it up and slip it into a breast pocket. It twinges something in him as he asks about it and Nightmare feeling a rare moment of openness blandly tells him of what happened. 

Killer is surprised and sudden understanding clicks but Nightmare dismisses it with ‘nothing more than childish hopes and pointless memories, what is it you want killer?’ 

Killer smiles.

It’s the first time Nightmare has seen that expression on Killer’s face and his socket widens. He feels something precariously close to a thrill race his spine as Killer hums, ‘me and the guys were talking…”

Dream and his friends are beginning to perform the big finale when suddenly the lights go off and Killer comes on over the intercom, ‘well as much as i love that hello kitty and fluffy rainbow shit like the next guy, how about we get a real party started?’ and the lights strobe back on in a kaleidoscope of flashing colors as Nightmare’s gang appear round the top of the stage. 

Killer flipping a jewel encrusted knife, Dust spinning an iron balancing rod as if it were a small plastic baton, Horror posed tall and looming with his one ear’d white lion and black tiger, and Cross on his sterling silver colored motorcycle revving the engine.

‘UH, DREAM? WHAT IS–” Before Blue can finish the boys are descending and taking the stage. Horror crowds them off with his animals as Cross races around the arena pulling shocked awes from the crowd and Killer blows fire setting the hanging ribbons up into a blaze of glory, Dust using his balancing rod to propel himself into the air and land on the lighting supports much to many surprised shouts of awe and worry. 

Dream can’t help but stare silently along with Blue and Ink as the show is stolen from them and negativity begins to seep in from the shocked and concerned onlookers who can’t bring themselves to look away, even clapping as Horror narrowly dodges being attacked by his own lion to allow the beast to burst through one of Ink’s paintings.

Nightmare watches in stunned surprise, amusement, and dare he even think it…

Endearment.

When all is said and done the crowd goes home excited and raving about the unexpected twist and Dream is left fuming as he goes off about how childish and inappropriate that was. Nightmare shrugs him off as he glances over his shoulder at his smug trope and comments about how it was no decision of his own making. Sure he knew, but he didn’t tell Killer no, but Dream doesn’t need to know that. 

When they go home Killer and the boys all gain a new bit of respect for their ring leader, and even a bit of fondness at how he let them do as they pleased. It’s a slow crawl from there. Each of them taking the time to get to know Nightmare a little better after also being told by Killer about his past, even asking him to join them for dinner one day where Nightmare finds enjoyment watching and listening to them go back and forth like a bunch of rowdy roommates. 

Horror introduces him to the animals, and manages to calm the tiger enough to let Nightmare pet it. ‘her name’s mira.’

‘...You named her?’ 

‘yep, her and bosco.’ 

‘Is Bosco the lion?’ 

Horror looks oddly fond. ‘heh, no, he’s the gator. the lion is kimba, killer named him.’  

Dust invites him to help him as he works on repairing and calibrating his canon, handing him tools and reciting blueprints. ‘need better bolts, these are starting to strip.’ 

‘I never knew you were so…hands on, Dust.’ 

‘cross’ fault. i saw him babying that bike of his and got tired of having nothing to do.’ 

‘I see.’ 

There’s silence, an uncertainty. ‘...i want to repaint it. i don’t like the colors.’ 

Nightmare considers. ‘...Alright, what colors would you like?’ 

Dust’s smile reminds him of Killer’s. ‘heh.’

Cross takes him for a ride and shows him just how fast his bike can go. ‘SLOW DOWN YOU HEATHEN! THIS IS NOT A SHOW!’ 

‘c’mon nightmare! live a little!’ 

Nightmare shivers at feeling Cross’s hand guide his to his waist, his voice reminiscent of a whisper into his acoustics. ‘i won’t let you fall.’ 

Nightmare averts his gaze. ‘Falling is not the point!’ 

Killer…killer brings him outside and sets him on a blanket beneath the only tree for miles as he sharpens his blades, handing nightmare one after the other and telling him what kind they are like a teenager. ‘and this is a messer! it’s german for knife but looks more like a dagger.’ 

‘Interesting. You’ve taken care of these well.’ 

Killer smirks. ‘i take care of the things i care about.’ 

Nightmare raises a brow as he echos. ‘Care about.’ 

‘i don’t have to feel it to know that i care about it.’ The shrug he gives is indifferent, but the look is another matter entirely, one that brings a foreign heat to Nightmare’s cheeks. It feels like a flirtation, but it can’t be, he knows where he stands with him - with all of them. 

‘An even more interesting notion.’ he whispers.

It isn’t until he stumbles upon Horror pining Dust to a wall in a small forgotten hallway with Dust’s legs around Horror’s hips as they kiss that Nightmare realizes there’s a deeper bond between the members of his trope that he never noticed. One that they’re starting to willingly let him see as he spots Cross and Killer not long after training together with Cross pinned to the knife board as Killer sensually traces patterns across his bones with the tip of a finely oiled blade. It’s shocking how they managed to get away with this, hiding the fluctuations in their emotions from his notice.

The understanding spurs something in him that’s…genuine. 

On equal footing.

Killer notices his staring and holds eye contact just out of Cross’ line of sight as he kisses the other skeleton. The emotions are there now, raw and unfiltered. Desire, want…teasing. 

It’s an invitation.

Nightmare turns away and hides in his room thinking. He doesn’t know what he feels, not yet. But he does find himself wanting to, maybe, get a little closer to them. To know them, just as they’re obviously trying to do with him. 

He likes watching Horror train his pets, he enjoys seeing Cross flip over ramps and twirl his bike beneath him mid-leap, he finds amusement in Killer trying to paint the sky with words made of fire, and he can’t resist staring as Dust pretends multiple times as if he’s going to fall only to stand back upright confidently and with poise. He can’t help wondering if this is what friendship is, companionship. He thought he’d known that once with his brother but he’d been wrong. The feelings are too different.

So he…takes the risk. 

The dinners continue, the quality time, with him contributing by inviting them to let him read aloud of his books and going out to explore the worlds now before performing, but it all starts to weigh heavy on him and this manifests in him one day suggesting as Killer and Dust put forth a duet idea to suggest they use netting…in case of an accident.

The boys go silent, staring at him. 

Nightmare feels judged, and it’s made clear that he is when Killer says rather carelessly, ‘since when do you care about our safety?’ It’s then made clear to Nightmare that no matter how hard he tries, and no matter what they open up to him and he them, that he can’t be more or get closer. 

They will always see him as nothing more than their owner, their master. 

‘Forget I said anything.’

Nightmare is left torn, does he put everything on the line by offering to release their contracts in the hopes that they’ll stay when it’s far more likely they’ll run if given the chance? Or does he hold on, and get left standing alone to watch as an outsider on the bond between them just as he’s always been to the universe at large.

He tried to run before he could walk. This is the obstacle between them and the first step that he knows has to be taken, the rest of the moments they share are empty so long as the contracts exist. And not only that but the leagues he’ll have to go to make up for what he put them through when he first found them, if they dare to even give him the chance.

There’s a bitter, terrifying, decision to reach. 

Nightmare is in unfamiliar waters as he feels the sting of indecisiveness that he hasn’t felt since he was a child.

[wipverse]

random facts edition #2

what is their relationship like? (part one)

Killer+Nightmare

Complicated. Being the first official member, Killer's had the most to get used to all the unspoken rules that come with living in the castle (through breaking every single one a million times each).

While he is loyalty personified when it comes to missions and other serious matters, he knows exactly how much he can(usually) get away with and loves to tow the line, especially with the others. Before anything and anyone else comes his cat, which has been tested by Nightmare when he first considered Killer, originally as a goon for throwing off Ink and Dream.

Nightmare employs a hands-off approach with Killer, for the most part, and doesn't go out of his way to interact more(or less) outside of missions. He keeps his "employee" in check as needed, though he becomes more lenient over time(as Killer settles down more).

His feelings towards Killer boil down to someone who got a roomba for efficiency.

Dust+Nightmare

Being recruited second, Dust had to settle in with already established dynamics, which wasn't too hard for him, since he didn't care about any of them nor how he's expected to fit into them.

His feelings towards Nightmare are pretty nebulous, but so are his feelings towards everyone(or so he insists).

He sees Nm as his boss and retains a purely professional relationship with him, which the Guardian is more than content with. Dust's loyalties lie with his brother first, and himself second, but surprisingly enough Papyrus and him agree more often than not. He gains, over many years, a sense of belonging and loyalty to the gang, but it's a very slow process.

Nightmare appreciates how quiet Dust is, and his business approach to working for him. He does not appreciate how often he has to pull Dust away from trying to, well, dust Killer.

Horror+Nightmare

Horror comes third, into what is, at first, just shy of a battlefield. He's brought in to mostly be Dust and Killer's keeper, at first, which he's scarily good at. He has his Role, and his home depends on him being good at it, so he does what he's always done and becomes what people need him to be.

He feels equal parts hate and gratefulness towards Nightmare, but regardless of his feelings he does his job without complaining.

He's the strongest physically, but the weakest overall when it comes to magic reserves. His scare factor comes in handy to making the other two skeletons listen.

His loyalty ultimately lies within the bounds of his home, and as such he is willing to do anything to ensure everyone's safety, even joining a multiversal war...against the multiverse.

Nightmare, although he would never admit it, finds Horror to be his favorite, even as the monster hates his guts. He appreciates his work ethic and the fact he can keep his other troublemakers in check. After he recovers enough from his starved state, he finds Horror to be an asset in spreading negativity throughout the aus.

Cross+Nightmare

Cross is the last main addition to the castle. He struggles heavily with finding his place in the relationships and dynamics already set in stone, and is more than a little awkward(which is more often than not read as antagonistic).

Cross swears loyalty to Nightmare and his cause out of a sense of duty, after the latter locates his empty AU through his negative emotions and helps give Chara and him new souls.

His feelings towards Nightmare are not exactly positive, but he carries on with his duties regardless. He mistakenly calls Nightmare "Your Highness" in his little allegiance speech, and the nickname sticks.

Nightmare is amused by this righteous knight, who so clearly hates his job yet does it anyway, in the name of a misplaced sense of debt.

[cyarsk5230]

Young Dolph Killer Justin Johnson Sentenced To Life In Prison, Brags On Social Media About Not Snitching

Noah Williams

Young Dolph – Source: Paras Griffin / Getty

Young Dolph’s killer was sentenced to life in prison Thursday after being found guilty of taking the life of the Memphis rapper.

Justice has been served in the murder of Young Dolph who was killed in Memphis, Tennessee in 2021. Failed rapper Justin “StraightDrop” Johnson was previously arrested in connection to the murder along with Hernandez Govan and Cornelius Smith. As the trial began this week, prosecutors laid out their case perfectly with undeniable amounts of evidence.

Goven and Smith also testified against Johnson giving a play-by-play of how this all unfolded.

One of the biggest bombshells revealed in court was that Yo Gotti’s brother Big Jook, who was murdered in January, ordered the hit on Dolph with a promise of $100K for the murder. Police evidence showed the alleged killers contacted Jook before and immediately after the shooting.

As previously reported the faux-assassins for hire revealed that despite being told they’d make six figures, they only received $800.

According to Rolling Stone, Johnson was found guilty of first-degree murder, conspiracy to commit murder, and being a felon in possession of a firearm. Johnson will now serve life in prison.

Young Dolph’s Fiancé & Sister React To Justin Johnson’s Guilty Verdict

Young Dolph’s fiancée Mia Jaye addressed the verdict on social media shortly after it was announced.

“This brings relief and restores my confidence in the justice system.” Mia Jaye said before thanking law enforcement, prosecutors and “everyone involved for their diligent work” in securing the conviction. “We are also grateful to the public for standing with us and advocating for accountability throughout this process,” Jaye continued. “The past three years, marked by the loss of Adolph and the events leading to the trial, have been incredibly frustrating. My faith has been tested, but Adolph’s tragic execution has only strengthened my resolve to fight – not only for him but for all Black men. This is just the beginning of our journey toward achieving full justice for Adolph, and we will patiently support the unfolding of that process.”

Dolph’s sister Carlisa Brown also spoke with Rolling Stone after the verdict and said Johnson’s murder conviction was “worth the wait.”

“I’m feeling relief that justice was brought today. We finally got to see the full picture of what happened, and it’s going to help with the healing process,” Young Dolph‘s sister Carlisa Brown said. “We had reassurance it was a strong case, but we didn’t know everything,” Brown says. “Based on the evidence, it wasn’t a shock [Johnson was convicted]. The person responsible had to reap the consequences and get what they deserved. It was worth the wait.”

Brown also confirmed the family would continue giving back to the community through the rapper’s IdaMae Family Foundation.

“We need to keep moving forward and doing what he would want us to do,” Brown says. “With this three-year anniversary coming up, I’m going to continue doing what he loved doing, which was giving back.”

After receiving life in prison, TheShadeRoom reports that Johnson took to Instagram to clout chase and brag about “not snitching.”

“These n***as taking criminal responsibility I’m taking street responsibility regardless I’m foreva the biggest they can throw away the keys before I ever eat da cheese.”

Sent from my iPhone

[puhpuhpower]

Hi everyone, I have a big DC Project I've been working with my friend and my brother. We have been writing our own DCUniverse. This is our first chapter slate. https://archiveofourown.org/series/3659107

That's the link to our AO3 series page, now I will provide a synopsis of what we currently have out as well as a sneak peak of what's to come!!!

Story 1 - The Broken Bat

Batman takes in Dick Grayson as the two of them form the dynamic duo and try to bring peace to Gotham taking down one criminal at a time. However the Joker throws a wrench in their plans which changes Batman forever.

Story 2- Batman and The Red Hood

3 years after the first story a hesitant and overprotective Batman take in Jason Todd but doesn't let him in on his secret identity. Little does he know Jason has been acting as the Vigilante Red Hood behind his back to achieve his own goal.

Story 3 - Jor-El Superman

Instead of Kal-El escaping Krypton and becoming the superman we know his father Jor-El escapes and has to deal with his dual life and past traumas as he saves the world from Zod while creating a powerful enemy with Lex Luthor.

Story 4 - The Flash: A Hero From The Future

Flash very early on in his career learns about the Speed Force but also has to take on a new threat from the future which will turn his world completely upside down.

Story 5 - Green Arrow: The Trials of Prometheus

Green Arrow works to solve the mystery of the recent murders of the mayoral candidates. Meanwhile Speedy tries to break out as his own hero.

Story 6 - Suicide Squad: Power Struggle

Amanda waller forms a team of criminals to take down the attempted takeover of Bludhaven by Bane and Killer Croc who have formed an alliance smuggling in weapons and drugs from Gotham. However it's revealed there may be another reason why Waller is so interested in this duo....

Story 7 - Katana: Retaliation

This is a side story I came up with about Katana and how she eventually winds up in the suicide squad post Power Struggle.

Story 8 - Punchline: The Jokes on You

Another side story about a girl named Alexis Kaye who's obsession with the Joker grows day by day eventually causing her to get in over her head and join the Legion of Doom.

Story 9 - Justice League: Brainiac Invasion

Brainiac aims to take over the world as all the heroes up until this point join forces in a join effort to take down the alien. How will Jor-El react when the person who destroyed his first planet aims to destroy his new home with the people he loves?

Now from here on out are projects in development.

Martian Manhunter

J'onn J'onzz works to try and stop Desparo from reaching earth and destroying the newly founded Justice League.

Aquaman: The Destined King

A mysterious Woman from the future comes to Aquaman with some trouble about a man named Leron from the same dimension as her trying to take the throne. Meanwhile Oceanmaster lurks about.

Plastic Man

A side story about Plastic Man who idolizes the league and looks to become a hero worthing of joining them.

Cyborg: The First Titan

After a horrific accident permanently disfigured Victor Stone he is reassembled by his father and the recently awakened mother box. However his father is kidnapped by HIVE and the mother box is taken so he must work together with some new allies and put his grievances aside with his dad to get him and the motherbox back.

Green Lantern

The last story in chapter 1 centers around Jogn Stuart who gets a green lantern ring and under the tutelage of Hal Jordan becomes the Green Lantern of earth.

That's all of chapter 1! I hope some of you read this and are willing to possible join us for the joruney. I'm not an expert at writing and neither are my brother or friend but we are all trying our best to make great stories and character arcs for all our favorite characters 🫶

[nijjhar]

Luke 11v47-54:- Sons of Satan Jews stoned and killed the Prophets such a... Luke 11v47-54:- Sons of Satan Jews stoned and killed the Prophets such as Zacheriah and then they build Temples to fleece the devotees. The people of the Khatri tribe in India did the same. https://youtu.be/aenaMzC7yjs Holy Gospel of our Supernatural Father Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., delivered by the First Anointed Christ, which in Punjabi we call Satguru Jesus of the highest living God Elohim that dwells within His Temple of God created by the demiurge Potter, the Lord of the Nature Yahweh, Brahma, Khudah, etc., the Greatest Artist of all and it is called Harmandir or “Emmanuel” according to Saint Luke 11, 47-54. Christ Jesus is our Anointed Elder Brother or the Bridegroom and not The Lord that has slaves said: “Woe to you! You build the memorials of the prophets whom your ancestors killed. But when the people admired and honoured them, then to take the glory of their forefathers, they built temples to fleece the people. Such greedy people after death take the next birth and suffer leprosy. So, most of the lepers in Israel were greedy people and Prophet Elisha refused to cure such Saltless people. This nature was depicted by the nine lepers that Jesus cured and none of them returned back to thank him as the tenth Samaritan did. In India, it was worse than in Israel. As the people of the Judah tribe are Princes of Darkness, the people of the Khatri tribe are kings and Emperors of Darkness fleecing devotees to the very bones. Bhai Lalo’s dry bread came Milk whilst the rich Khatri Lord’s delicious food came Blood. Consequently, you bear witness and give consent to the deeds of your ancestors, for they killed them and you do the building. Therefore, the wisdom of God said, 'I will send to them prophets and apostles; some of them they will kill and persecute' in order that this generation might be charged with the blood of all the prophets shed since the foundation of the world by Abram, from the blood of Abel to the blood of Zechariah who died between the altar and the temple building. Yes, I tell you, this generation will be charged with their blood! Woe to you, scholars of the law! You have taken away the key of knowledge such as this Sukkot festival of repentance. You yourselves did not enter by making Jews outwardly unfaithful to Abraham and Yahweh for the sake of greed and you stopped those trying to enter as Prophet Elijah John, the Baptist was the “Cornerstone” of the Temple occupied by the crook Temple Priests." When he left, the scribes and Pharisees began to act with hostility toward him and to interrogate him about many things, for they were plotting to catch him at something he might say. Greatest Blasphemers and Killers Blair and Bush being considered by Anti-Christ Bishops for Nobel Peace Prize. Nobel Peace Prize should rather go to Assange and the Iraqi journalist Muntadhar al-Zaidi who threw both his shoes at the hypocrite Bush in Iraq. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=9qHdTpTXHvE&list=PL0C8AFaJhsWz7HtQEhV91eAKugUw73PW1 Blair and Bush’s blasphemies against Holy Spirit are bearing Fruit in economic chaos created by Virus https://youtu.be/0WBYOmpDuCs Shoe throwing at Bush by the Soldier of God Elohim, Allah, Parbrahm, etc., a HERO. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Bush_shoeing_incident#:~:text=%22Arab%20moment%E2%80%9D.-,Event,Bush. This is America - Israel in Disguise:- Grim American Jewish Reaper waving sickle to kill more in Venezuela as they did in Iraq, Libya, Syria, Ukraine, etc. www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/GrimReaper.htm   Beware of these robed people as everyone has to give his account to God. This is the Dark Age of Christs, the Innerman, in people. Holy spirit = common sense/Surti, shatters the fetters of the dead letters, the Scriptures. Why do people reject and ban my Videos? They see, and read the Scriptures but do not perceive the roots of the Scriptures = Oral Torah = His Word. If Nanak was the second coming of Jesus, then how can you say Sikhism has nothing to do with Christianity? Sikhism is the extension of Christianity and that is why I tell you things that hardly anyone knows but you reject me. Here is another piece of proof:- John, the Baptist, Angel of Israel Prophet Elijah, the Headstone of the Temple who was ousted by the hypocritical Temple Rabbis said I am baptising you in water and the one coming after me will baptise you in Holy Spirit. Then, tell me in whose name he baptised the Jewish men in the water? He never baptised a woman, Gentile or a Samaritan, the generation of Joseph. Why? The answer is written in the Bible but the once-born people of the Book called stones would not understand it. You need to be twice-born of Holy Spirit to understand the Tap Root, Oral Torah, of the My Kindle. ASIN: B01AVLC9WO Full description, www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/Rest.htm My Books:- ONE GOD ONE FAITH:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/bookfin.pdf Punjabi www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/pdbook.pdf John's baptism:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/johnsig.pdf Trinity:- www.gnosticgospel.co.uk/trinity.pdf

[shadow-trivia]

I recently stumbled upon a fanart of Diavolo as a mobster, and when I showed it to @undertaker-02, we began talking about a mafia AU. Of course, I can't just keep that to myself and not show y'all as well. Enjoy~

Masterlist

☆ Diavolo is the don of the clan. The leader that resolves disputes and keeps everyone in line, who hands out punishments and controls the flow of money. He's the one who makes decisions. The one who people whisper rumours of in the streets, too afraid to speak his name out loud for one never knows who listens in on their conversation. The don is rarely ever seen to make an entrance and when he does, it's never for a good reason.

☆ Barbatos is the don's hitman and messagero, the messenger. A word, a glance, a wave of the hand is enough to get the command across. He's as swift and clean as one need be when working alongside Diavolo. Barbatos operates in a highly planned, methodical and organised manner; his natural sense of orderliness and control round off the profile of a perfect killer, vigilant from the shadow his master throws.

☆ Lucifer is the consigliere, the advisor to the don; he who Diavolo trusts to a point where no game, no deal is decided on until Lucifer agrees to the plan, even if it tempts the young leader. Lucifer has seen his fair share of clans fall and ensures that his succumbs to no such fate. He further represents the don in important meetings both within and outside of the family. His pride allows for no mistakes, creating a stone cold but flawless reputation.

☆ Mammon is a loan shark and a con artist - he first lures the clueless victim right into his trap, watching with a carefully curated poker face as it snaps shut. Once he's got them where he wants them to be, the sweet words make way to frigid ones. Pay up, or pay the price. Mammon is dressed for the ocassion, charming and clever. He can either blend in our stand out, whichever the job demands, and bring out the worst in anyone once he's decided on them as his next target.

☆ Leviathan is a hacker and online expert. He thinks outside of the box and has a naturally competitive streak in him - the harder the defenses, the harder he strikes. He's incredibly fast and accurate when running calculations and plans ahead for every possible outcome. His skills come in especially handy when working with Mammon on his scams. After all, who would doubt a professionally set up website, seemingly legitimate certificates included?

☆ Satan is an information broker. He knows every corner, every name and establishment in the city and beyond. Always the first to know when a rival gang pops up or the cops plan a razzia, Satan is quick to know through his countless grapevines. They rake deep into the city's very foundation; nothing goes unnoticed by him. He's also the most reliable one in terms of contracts, balancing on the fine line that's a makeshift peace the mafia families rely on. This broker is the only one to traverse between territories without notice and return unharmed.

☆ Asmodeus is a smuggler. Be it fine arts, century old wine or jewellry: If it's illegal, Asmodeus is your man. He knows how to play his looks and charm to his advantage, got both the police and the CEO's wrapped around his finger. Asmodeus knows the underground like no other, and the underground knows him. However would they notice the bills flowing under the table when he smiles at them with sweet but false promises coating his lips like honey?

☆ Beelzebub and Belphegor are both the clean up crew and reinforcements. One needs both a strong stomach and detached nature to deal with such work - traits they easily bring along. They've seen their fair share of messes left behind by their brothers and yet not a single clue could be traced back to the infamous clan. Such work may be sporadic but the two are on call 24/7, seeing as business has no specific schedule.

☆ Solomon is a true neutral party. Albeit being lured with promises of position and power he never aligns himself with any of the syndicates. Someone like him disappears and reappears at random, but with auspicious, quite lucrative heists for sale. The man ain't cheap but his gigs are foolproof and real. He even offers his full assistance during the operation! Isn't he just the nicest? It's a mystery how he hasn't been caught yet, considering his name is on the Interpol's most wanted list in 198 countries. A magician never reveals the secret behind his tricks, does he?

[greyskyflowers]

As an older sibling, let me tell you why the whitebeard crew and Ace just hurt my heart and I will forever have a soft spot for them.

Imagine coming to save your little brother, taken from you by someone you trusted immediately after losing another brother.

He's so far away from you, even after you've come this far to get to him, chained up and looking so very small next to the men who plan to kill him.

They speak of justice and necessity. They say that they know best and best is the death of your brother.

The white of their uniforms is blinding in the sunlight and each speck of blood must be like a badge of honor. Why else would they wear something so pure to commit something so terrible.

And your brother, your so loved and so young brother. He is bruised, the various colors looking so out of place on his skin because he usually heals so quickly.

The dirt on him is black like the uniforms of his killers should be.

He is thin, lean build already wasting away and you wonder if he just wasn't given food or if he rejected it.

He doesn't look up at first, head hung low and shoulders curved like he would hide away inside himself if given the chance.

And you know he would rather have died alone, even if it meant more pain, to avoid this humiliation. To avoid the chance of people dying for him.

You know the thoughts going through his head, the same ones that have probably been living in his head since birth.

I deserve this.

This is what should happen.

I already had more time and love than I deserve.

And you all spent so long chasing those thoughts out of his head with love and acceptance. He was getting better. Less likely to let himself get lost in those thoughts or isolate himself. You didn't spend time he was alway on mission worrying that he would throw his life away on something silly.

You think of how polite he would be when he wasn't acting like a hellion, almost anxious in his desire to be someone they would want to have around. And how could they not?

Ace was warmth in all the literal and metaphorical ways.

You all loved him before he was even yours. As soon as Pops declared him his son, you loved him. Even through the cursing and fighting and reluctance, he was your brother.

And he was taken from you.

Taken somewhere cold, made of stone, and dark.

How dare they

How dare they take him from you and make a mockery of it all. Tell the world that your bother deserves this and they want everyone to witness it.

It's ironic that the monsters of the world wear white.

And after a battle that shakes hell like it does the heavens, he's so close.

Warm, free, and among family again, laughing and fighting next to the brother he loves to tell you about.

And happiness is a bubble in your chest because you did it. He's here and you want to hug him, feel his warmth and prove to yourself he is there. You see your siblings all itching to do that same.

But he gets ripped away from you again.

This time by a man insulting your family while dressed in a uniform of blood and fire.

There is no justice here. Or anywhere if this is what counts as justice.

This time there is nothing to do. There is no one to save while Ace bleeds out in his brothers arms and everyone watches in shock.

You think of Thatch dead and cold on the deck.

You hope that the magma burned away anything that could cause Ace pain. People will get cold as they die, as they shut down, and god you pray Ace is warm in his brothers arms. That he just kind of goes to sleep, fading quickly and painlessly because he deserves to go that way.

He didn't deserve any of this and the world owes you all at least that much. The peace of your brother in his last moments as he gets taken from you again.

You wonder if he would have recovered though. If knowing what his family sacrificed and lost, all the people who died on the small chance that they could rescue him, with the world knowing his sercret.... if he would have recovered or simply lived as a shadow.

If, in a horrible way, dying on a battlefield with his family was the best way this could have gone.

Maybe dying surrounded by people who love him enough to wage war was more than he could have ever dreamed of.

And god doesn't that ache something fierce.

[lulu2992]

My thoughts on Far Cry: Rite of Passage #1

What they got wrong about Vaas’ backstory, what they got right, and why it doesn’t really matter.

The first issue of Far Cry: Rite of Passage, The Power of Chaos, opens with Diego Castillo waking up on the day of his thirteenth birthday. To celebrate, his father Antón takes him on a journey to teach him an important lesson: “Peace and chaos, if you’re not careful, can become the same thing”. To illustrate it, he tells Diego the story of a man many Far Cry fans know very well: Vaas Montenegro.

When it comes to Vaas’ backstory, no risks were taken. The comic doesn’t try to explain why he and Citra have different names and accents, who were their parents, where Vaas’ scar comes from, etc. It is, admittedly, a little underwhelming, but Far Cry 3 has been out for almost 9 years and Vaas is an iconic character. Had they attempted to answer all the unanswered questions, not everyone would have been happy, so I believe sticking to what we already know was the right decision. The comics are an introduction to Far Cry 6 anyway, so expanding on Vaas’ background wasn’t necessary.

Now, even though nothing new is introduced regarding Vaas’ story, not everything we see in this first issue is accurate. The comic makes it seem (to me, at least) like Vaas left Citra and joined Hoyt because he was unsatisfied with a life he thought wasn’t rewarding enough, was arrogant, wanted power, was tempted with drugs, and ended up losing himself. It’s exactly the story Citra tells Jason in Far Cry 3: “He left me, the tribe, his birthright. Hoyt Volker lured him away with money. Drugs. He became a monster. But he was still my brother”. Except... this version of events isn’t the whole truth. Vaas didn’t leave simply because Hoyt offered him drugs and power, he left because Citra was manipulating him the same way she manipulates Jason in the game. He left her because she was toxic and abusive, because her goal was to make him the ultimate warrior, the man destined to father her child and be sacrificed. She is the one who used him and turned him into a killer in the first place, not Hoyt. The comic makes it seem Citra is the righteous path Vaas (regretfully) strayed from, but she was actually a danger he ran away from.

Antón is right when he says Vaas was conflicted, at war with himself, and that it eventually killed him. However, he isn’t tormented because he knows, deep down, that he shouldn’t have left, but because he was deeply hurt by what Citra did to him. When Michael Mando, who played and co-created Vaas, talks about his character, he says there is “a huge amount of pain that resides right under the surface of all that rage” and that he is “in pain because of love”. Vaas loved his sister, says he would have done anything for her, and wanted to protect her. But she broke his heart and he never healed. This is his chaos.

He was already broken beyond repair when he started working for Hoyt, whom he joined in an attempt to regain control of his life, to become the warrior he wanted to be... and especially the one she didn’t want him to be. But the tragic irony of Vaas’ story is that he escaped Citra’s spider web only to throw himself in Hoyt’s. He wanted to live his own life and just found a new puppet master. Part of him knows he is trapped, that the power he has and flaunts is an illusion, that he became a monster, but, at least, he chose this life. Hoyt gave him what he wanted, as well as the drugs that “help” him not to think too much about who he is and what he does.

Other parts of Vaas’ story as it is told in the comic are however very accurate. When Jason is mentioned, he is described as “another man with conflict in his soul”. Antón explains, “You are either the blade that is sharpened on the stone… or… you are the stone that sharpens someone else”. It is a perfect description of the relationship between the two men, of how Jason replaced Vaas in the eyes of Citra, and how killing him was a step he had to take in his journey to become the warrior Vaas had refused to be. Vaas’ destiny, as Antón puts it, was to be “the tool that changes someone else”. And, interestingly, this “someone” isn’t just Jason, it’s also Diego. Vaas indirectly teaches him an important lesson: the chaos in one’s mind must be confronted and tamed so it doesn’t cause one’s downfall.

We can even imagine (but it’s probably just wishful thinking) that Vaas’ story isn’t entirely accurate because Antón deliberately didn’t tell Diego the whole truth. His destiny is to follow in his father’s footsteps so it’s certainly not in Antón’s best interest to tell his son that Vaas ran away because he didn’t want to be the man his family manipulated him into becoming…

The comic ends with Antón telling Diego, who is conflicted because he is kind and he hates his father’s cruelty, that they are going hunting, and promising his son that learning how to be cruel will help him silence his chaos and find peace.

Even though the retelling of Vaas’ past in this first issue is imperfect, he isn’t the primary focus of the story. Far Cry: Rite of Passage is first and foremost about Antón Castillo and the life lessons he wants to teach his son Diego. In this regard, the story Antón tells, although partly inaccurate, works perfectly. And, in the end, it’s what truly matters.

[fanficsandfluff]

The Snyder Cut: Headcanons (mostly of the tickly nature)

Bruce Wayne (Batman) ~ Batfleck, my love

He’s such a lover boy, and I can say that though I don’t exactly know how to explain what I mean. You just gotta understand.

He cares so strongly about EVERYONE. e v e r y o n e. Alfred, fucking loves the guy, jokes with him. The fucking “This is Alfred, I work for him.” MY MAN, STOP!

I think he just really wants to get along with everyone and wants everyone to get along in general.

But he lowkey crushes on Diana (at least in his mind, he’s keeping it lowkey, but we all see what’s happening)

I love the idea of this big hunk of a man getting soft with someone like Diana. 

She makes him genuinely laugh this one time by saying something funny, and then they’re both laughing together. 

Bruce definitely has one of those laughs where he throws his head back and shit and you can see his like Adam’s apple bobbing and everything.

But that’s if he’s really laughing.

And he has loud “HA”’s that are like really short but loud and then he kinda just snickers to himself for a while, holding his stomach.

And dude, the scene in freaking uhh… i think it’s BvS I’m not 100% (maybe i fucking imagined it who knows) where she like comes over to him and is fixing his wound….. tickle scenario hand picked from the gods right there

I can see a whole, “Woah!” from Bruce when Diana traces her fingers on some sensitive skin. And that Gal Godot smile is on her in an INSTANT. 

Bruce will laugh if he’s with the right person. Like I headcanon that if he’s being tickled, he will laugh if it’s done by Diana or Barry, then like he’ll be forced to laugh if it’s Clark bc he overpowers the poor bat, but then he just has these hilarious bouts of angry growls and chuckles if Arthur is going after him. 

I can’t even write about Batfleck being a ler because I will literally explode, so I’m done here 

(((((butseriouslyifanyonewantstotalklerbatfleckwithmehmuplz)))))

Diana Prince (Wonder Woman) 

I know the GIF isn’t from ZSJL but just let me live, ok? (Also I couldn’t find the one of Gal wiggling her fingers YOU KNOW THE ONE I’M TALKING ABOUT)

First off, Gal is the most horrible queen of giggles. I’ve seen those blooper reels. My god, girl, how do you keep getting hired?

SHE HAS SUCH A BIG SMILE IT’S LIKE THE ROCK IDK HOW THEIR TEETH AND MOUTH GET SO WIDE LOOKING

Diana will start tickle fights without a doubt.

She’s already very trustful and I also feel pretty handsy with people, especially those she may feel close to. So if she’s playful, you best watch out.

Her favorite targets are Bruce and Barry. I will not take criticism. Diana attacking Barry and reducing him to panicky shrieky laughs is my #1 thought. It’s not even living rent free, I’m commissioning it to be there.

Diana is one to laugh with her victims. She will wreck them and have a great time doing so. 

She’ll be ticklish if she wants to be, but it isn’t often she gets pinned and tickled or anything like that.

The guys try to stay away from her or not go after her with tickles for fear of retaliation.

AQUAMAN, CYBORG, SUPERMAN, AND THE FLASH UNDER THE CUT

Arthur Curry (Aquaman)

So…. my man isn’t really ticklish. I really don’t think he is, I feel like his Atlantean genes make his skin a special kind of hard, if that makes sense?

THAT BEING SAID ARTHUR IS THE BIGGEST LER OMGGG

He’ll try and act all cool and ‘whatever’ around the League cuz that’s kind of his persona.

But he slowly gets to like them more and more and his playful side starts to come out.

He’ll tickle Barry out of pure annoyance. Like if Barry makes any kind of comment, he’ll just point his finger out and get that glint in his eye and Barry is sprinting for the hills.

Here’s my favorite headcanon: Arthur will tickle Bruce because he knows it pisses him off when he does it. Bruce will fight back and keep Arthur in his sights at all time and curse and growl at him. And Arthur thinks it’s hilarious.

Arthur as a ler will taunt and tease until the cows come home

“Huh, big guy? What’s that? Ahawww that’s what I thought!... Not so fast/tough/etc. now!... I will wreck you.”

Victor Stone (Cyborg)

Unfortunately… not ticklish. :(

But this boy has the sweetest laugh you will ever hear, and I will die on that hill. 

Now that he has friends (superpowered friends, no less), he can slowly come alive and be himself. 

I can see Victor not getting involved in tickle fights at first, but at a certain point he’ll be all like, “Okay, step aside so we can do this right” and just PIN THE SHIT OUT OF WHOEVER IS BEING TICKLED. His extra robot arms are killer!

Okay, when he laughs for the first time in front of the group, there’s that cliche moment of pause where everything stops and everyone just stares and listens to him. It’s so rare to hear him laugh because the poor kid barely even smiled around them in the beginning. 

He SMIRKS

Now hear me out on this…

Okay, so half a face. Great. Weird. We love it. But you can see all of mischievous Victor when the guy SMIRKS. You see his eye squint and you can swear his robot eye gets a gleam of a different color. 

Wait honestly as I was writing that, the thought of Victor’s eye and like his apparatus changing color based on his mood is golden.

Me sitting here, lowkey wishing Victor’s robot body had some kind of cuddly mode like Baymax lmfaoooo 

Like the defense mode his body went into when he was around resurrected Supes, but for cuddles and being cute.

Clark Kent (Superman)

I was debating even including any headcanons for Superman bc I don’t care about him much, honestly.

I am v happy they kept in the whole ‘him staring at Flash through the speed storm’ scene bc I laughed so hard at that the first time i saw Josstice League in the theater. 

Also I didn’t really like the black superman costume??? I’m not a comic buff, so I’m assuming that’s why. I am like the one person who missed the color from the Josstice League cut. Don’t miss the stupid red sky in the finale, but I miss every other ounce of color that was just SUCKED right out of the Snyder Cut.

Clark and Bruce are besties now, I don’t make the rules. Bruce bought the man his house back. By buying the bank. He’ll take care of him.

And I’ve always simped for those two ever since BvS, bc I’ve already written like two fics where they tickle each other. 

Clark overpowering Bruce to tickle the shit out of him makes me so happy lol. Big strong boy Batfleck looking thiccc over here… but put him against Superman and he’s donezo. Because as mentioned earlier, I do think Bruce is pretty ticklish. 

But Clark can have his lee side when he’s feeling nice

He’s got that mighty chuckle, almost like how Thor might laugh. 

And he really likes getting involved in tickle fights with the League. He knows all of them are sorta afraid of him on the daily anyway, but have that power added to a tickle fight and it’s fun as hell. 

He’s gotten taken down by them ONCE. And I mean exactly (1) O N C E.

They all teamed up. Bing, bang, boom. Pinned him to the floor and they each took an area of skin and fucking SQUEEZED AND WIGGLED. They were trying to incapacitate him as quickly as possible. And dangummit, he laughed a lot! Like Clark realized just how ticklish he could feel if he wanted to feel it. 

And don’t even get me started on Lois, he’s big on getting her to giggle and she likes toying with him and running her hands all over his body (bc who wouldn’t?)

Barry Allen (The Flash)

I waited to write about Barry last because I have so much to say about this character....

and then I fell asleep and waited until the next day to write anything down about him so now I’m totally not in the mood and I forgot all the salient points I was planning on making.

fuck you, michelle.

I got a weird relationship with this character. He was mad annoying in the Josstice League. Thank goodness they trimmed his bad jokes down.

But now....

when he got hurt at the end and he was like crying and shit oh my god I wanted to hug him

His character got so... good

And I’m now at the right age where I can think about myself in a relationship with this character with no changes or shame

We both out here trying to find that one good job after college and everything

BARRY JUST WANTS FRIENDS, GUYS

HE’S THAT CUTE

And then he got this whole found family schtick with the Justice League!!! Lookit him!!! Thriving!

He has total little brother energy

like, pesky little brother. Bothers everyone, looks over people’s shoulders while they’re deep in thought or concentrating on something.

Asks a lot of questions.

All the more reason for the gang to want to tickle the shit out of him.

Barry just reads like a super ticklish lee. Like his whole character.

Maybe touch starved because he said he needed friends, and I don’t think he has siblings??? (sorry if i’m wrong about that, comic fans)

I already named some of my fav headcanons about him getting tickled by like Diana and such, and I’m sticking with it.

Barry does flee. He runs away with super speed.... but sometimes he just kinda wants the tickles so he lets them have at him. 

The chase is all part of the fun with tickling Barry, though. That’s what makes it so entertaining. And Barry isn’t afraid to be a little shit about it either. He will super-speed around his pursuers and poke their sides and tickle them back really quickly before they even know what’s happening. 

Barry doesn’t exactly hold back his laughter lol. He’ll protest and scream and squirm like crazy, but once he’s actually tickled, he loses it.

Pure boy. With funny ass facial expressions.

And it really doesn’t help that I never realized just how hot Ezra Miller is, even though I heard he’s not a great person irl. Oh well.

THAT’S ALL FOLKS!

Please please let me know if y’all have things to add, to squee over, to question me about... please. anything. i’m here for you. thanks for reading, guys!

[enapouyou]

My little stone guardian

(Sorry if there are spelling mistakes, english isn’t my language. The story is translated from French )

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

He had succeeded.

Well, almost...

Puddles of paint littered the floor, their various colours contrasting with the black that was slowly taking over the place. The gentle warmth of the universe gave way to a cold, icy wind, making the bones of those who dared not move tremble. But was it really the cold that made them tremble... ?

A thud broke the silence, the sound of a heavy object falling to the ground. Then came the sound of footsteps, slow, uncertain. They seemed to go on forever, as if the goal to be reached was constantly receding. And finally, a scream, a howl, tearing apart the time that seemed to have stopped. A scream, a single word, a single name...

- DREAM !!!!!!!!!

Frozen in the middle of what used to be their battlefield, amidst bones stuck in the ground, paint soaked into the grass, blasters that had come to rest, the guardian of positivity had returned to a state no one thought possible.

Arriving first at his side, Ink's hands were shaking, slowly coming to rest on the cheeks of a stone statue, feeling a few tears slide down the cold surface. Behind him, Blue stood still, replaying the events, trying to understand how this umpteenth battle against the bads sanses could have ended this way.

On the other side, a laugh finally rang out. That of the brother of the new stone statue. Nightmare hadn't planned this, wanting instead to kill his brother to get the golden apple, but... Now that he thought about it, it had taken his brother two hundred years to come out of the stone the first time. So he had plenty of time to plunge the world into chaos. Plenty of time to create a world full of negative feelings. Plenty of time to prepare to welcome his brother back and come up with a plan to finally catch that apple that was currently trapped in the stone as well.

Beside him, his three faithful henchmen were also staring at the scene, exchanging a few glances. They too did not think that this time their fight would surely be the last. They were pulled out of their thoughts when Nightmare snapped his fingers, looking at them with a huge grin before opening a portal to DreamTale, inviting them home to celebrate. Dust and Horror did not hesitate, passing through the portal with their boss, but Killer remained still for a moment. He watched as Blue joined Ink and mourned their friend's condition. Within him, the feelings were quite contradictory as he looked at the guardian of the golden apple, frozen with his arms open and that sweet smile on his face despite the tears, having tried to reason with his brother again... Without success... A call from the portal snapped him out of his thoughts, turning to Nightmare who was staring at him, ordering him to return with a single dark look. Killer felt his soul clench, taking one last look at the stone statue before rejoining the gang, the portal closing just as he passed, the sound of Ink's threat of revenge.

~

In the distance, he watched his colleagues fighting. Once again, their mission was to go and fill a universe with negative feelings and once again, stars sanses had come to try and stop them. It was becoming a habit, a game... But a dangerous game. The attacks were real and their intentions were to really hurt them... But still, stars sanses continued to just want to reason with them, only attacking in case of major force and always with the aim of immobilizing them, with the least damage possible. And he knew that it was Dream who asked them to do this... Because Dream really believed he could save them.

- Don't you fight, Killer?

The voice had sounded behind him and without even turning around, the madman knew that the guardian of positive feelings had arrived behind him.

- I don't feel like it. He replied calmly. I already know how it's going to end. It's getting boring.

Not detecting any aggression in the skeleton with empty eye sockets, Dream approached to level with him, observing in turn the four others fighting nearby.

- Why do you keep obeying Nightmare then? Dream tried.

Beside him, Killer remained silent for a long time, his gaze fixed on his colleagues.

- Because he saved me. I owe him, whether you like it or not, little Guardian. Maybe if you'd been the first to come for me that day, I'd be with you.

He turned his gaze on the golden-pupilled skeleton, who felt no dominant emotions. He seemed neither happy nor sad that Nightmare was the first to take him out of his world when he wanted to RESET him by erasing himself from his own world.

- This war is none of your business... Dream whispered. This is between Nightmare and me... You should be neutral to all this, but he had to make you feel like he saved you to get you on his side...

Deep down, Dream blamed himself for not being the first to find them. That he couldn't have saved them otherwise. But while he was lost in his thoughts, Killer laughed beside him.

- You're wrong, little Guardian. We don't just do this out of debt. We love it too.

Dream remained silent for a moment, watching Killer with a feeling of contradiction. He felt nothing, not even a little joy. His voice was neutral, tired, without much conviction.

- Is it true?

- Of course it is. Look in front of you. Dust and Horror take pleasure in knocking you off your feet.

- No, Killer. I was asking for you. Are you really enjoying this?

~

Time seemed to be getting longer and longer. Each day was repetitive, boring. Since Dream had become a stone statue again, the days were boring. Nightmare was at full strength, making Ink and Blue's fight almost futile.

They beat them every time, watching the last two stars retreat to avoid serious injury. And that was every time they crossed paths. It had no interest, no flavour anymore...

But on the other hand, as Killer watched his colleagues, he saw himself as the only one who found the moments boring. Nightmare was getting stronger all the time, Dust loved to go out and attack universes, and Horror was happy to have more time to go hunting for food. But Killer was bored... Taking no pleasure in attacking others. He just wanted to get away from those darned repetitive days.

Many universes had sunk into fear, hatred, the inhabitants no longer having any remorse to fight to maintain an illusion of security for their families. Bads sanses were names that made more and more people tremble, causing chaos and terror. And despite Ink and Blue's best efforts, the number of universes controlled by fear grew steadily, as if hope had vanished.

Everything was too easy.

Sitting on the bed in his room, Killer played with his dagger, twirling it on his knuckle before throwing it to catch it by the handle. He let out a long sigh, beginning to lose interest. The missions had no flavor anymore, Ink and Blue were a shadow of their former selves, too weakened by their search to save their friend.

Eventually the madman dropped his knife and got up to grab his jacket, slinging it over his shoulders and walking out of his room. As he moved through the corridors, he dodged the Papyrus of corruption that were the servants and that were growing in number, witnessing the growing power of their master. These lifeless puppets did not interest Killer either. He was too bland, far from being able to fill his boredom.

Through the window, the round-souled skeleton could see the red sky of DreamTale growing stronger and stronger. The shadows were also taking more ground, turning the place a little more into a universe where negativity was king.

He had won...

Eventually exiting the castle, Killer opened a gate, wanting to take a moment to wander off. Yet, while he was sure he had no idea, as he passed through the gate, his gaze fell on the stone statue.

Dream had not moved. Too heavy but at the same time too fragile to be handled by Ink and Blue. Even Nightmare didn't want to break it, fearing he would lose the golden apple if he killed Dream like that. So he stood there with his arms open and a welcoming smile on his face. Only his tears had disappeared since that famous day.

Killer stood still for a moment, staring at this being trapped in the stone. The images of the fight of that day came back to him. He could hear Dream's pleas for peace, for change. Then came the attack, sharp, almost invisible. No one had seen it, but the sound of stone beginning to freeze Dream had stopped everyone. The guardian had first looked at his feet and then straightened his face towards his brother, holding out his arms and smiling at him despite the tears.

Killer had to give him that. Dream was strong, much stronger than they were. He hadn't been afraid, not for a moment. And even as he turned to stone, he continued to hold out his arms, his hand. The same hand that Killer had gently agreed to take from time to time, when Nightmare wasn't looking.

And he'd discovered an entirely different Dream. A guardian consumed with worry, fear, but not of dying, no... Fear of losing those around him. Even those enemies.

~

- Why do you want to help us?

Killer sat atop a hill in a nearly destroyed universe. His legs dangled in the air as he watched the last of the survivors being pulled out by Ink and Core!Frisk. Behind him, Dream had sensed his presence and had joined the madman, knowing full well that he was not responsible for the state of this universe. For once, it was only the game's fault.

The question posed by the madman had caught the little guard off guard. How had he guessed that he had come for this? Wasn't it because Dream was talking to Killer more and more and Killer was getting to know him well.

- Is it because we're destroying the world you want to protect? Killer continued. You think it's better to save us than to destroy us, don't you?

Once again, Dream remained silent, unsure of how to respond. But he finally sighed, slowly coming to sit beside the madman, looking in the same direction as him.

- Of course I don't want to destroy you. Because that's not my role.

- So what is your role, little guardian?

-Bringing joy... Just being there and letting people be happy with my presence.

For the first time, Killer had sensed sadness in the guard's voice, but also deep resignation. He had not done this for himself for years. Had he ever done it for himself...

- And what would you like to do?

This time, Killer had turned his head, looking at the smaller man next to him. The latter lowered his head a little, as if unable to answer. At least, unable to answer without thinking, without searching for words.

- I don't know... I would just like to find my brother... Not to have to fight him anymore because he wants to kill me and not to have to face him because the inhabitants of the universes are waiting for us to come and save them.

Slowly, Dream lifted her head, planting her golden pupils in the madman's eyes.

- I would like more moments like this... More moments where we can talk without having to fight... I'm sure we have a lot in common that we could share.

~

Killer had finally approached the statue, his gaze lost in front of those hands stretched out before him. He knew they weren't meant for him, but he really wanted to take them...

He was right... They had a lot to share. Much more than he had expected. How many times had they found themselves away from the fight, talking about their common weariness to fight. How many times had they ended up talking about something else, slowly opening up to each other. How many times had they lowered their weapons in front of each other, refusing to fight the one who brought them a little novelty in these repetitive confrontations.

Far too many times... And yet, now that he was facing this stone friend, Killer regretted never having told him how happy he was to have spent so much time with him.

~

- Did you know that Nightmare loved to tell stories when we were kids?

- For real? Then again, I once heard him talking to himself at night in his room. Like he was actually telling something. Of course, he flatly denied it when I asked him what he was doing.

~

The sound of their laughter filled his memories, prompting him to come a little closer to the statue, placing a hand on the outstretched one. The coolness of it contrasted with the usual warm hand, but Killer had no desire to let go of it now.

~

- Yesterday I saw a cat near the castle. I would have kept it, but Nightmare doesn't allow animals...

- It's a shame, I'm sure you'd take good care of it. And even if Dust and Horror are your friends, having a furry friend could be good for you.

~

Slowly, Killer curled his knuckles against the stone one, looking at it sadly. Thoughts raced through his mind, reminding him of all the sweet moments that had seemed timeless. Like a little moment just for them, away from everything.

~

- Killer... Your soul... It has taken on the shape of an inverted heart!

- ...I haven't seen it like this in a long time.

~

He placed his second hand on the guard's, passing his empty gaze from one hand to the other. It had been so long since he'd had a moment with him... In addition to his petrification, which must have lasted for the better part of a year, Killer had been distant with him for the past few months. He had felt a real change coming on with Dream and he had been afraid that Nightmare would eventually see them. So he had distanced himself, but in the end, now that he was facing that stone statue, he regretted it.

But what he didn't know was that far away, someone else was regretting this situation too. Not for the same reasons, but for a lot of things that everyone else didn't know. For many things that he kept locked up, refusing even to admit to himself. But this doubt, however small, was present in his heart and for a moment the spell wavered.

Unaware of this, Killer let his hands slip from the stone guardian's, his gaze dropping to the ground. His arms fell limply to his sides, drained of all energy, filled with the weariness and remorse he could no longer change. Slowly he turned, preparing to leave, telling himself that he would come back tomorrow and praying that he would not tire of coming here either.

- You're leaving already... ? a voice whispered behind him.

For a moment, Killer felt the voice come from his mind and he shook his head, needing only to speak, even to a hallucination.

- There's nothing more I can do... I could have prevented this... I should have prevented this. He didn't deserve this...

- I already told you, Killer. The voice continued. You didn't have to get involved in this war, so you're not responsible for what's happening.

The madman took a long breath, really feeling that the voice was real, but he knew it... Nightmare's spell was powerful enough to last for centuries... But even if it was fake, hearing that voice did him a lot of good. Much more than he thought it would, and he couldn't help but say:

- I miss you...

The voice seemed to have disappeared, and Killer felt his soul clench. Not even a hallucination seemed to believe him. What would happen if he told the real Dream? He didn't even want to imagine that.

Yet, as he was about to leave, he felt two arms go around his waist, squeezing him gently as a head rested on his back. The presence startled him and he was ready to attack. Until he looked at the two arms, seeing the two yellow gloves with their jade bracelets. His soul stopped beating for a moment, not daring to believe that this could be possible.

- At least have the courage to say it to my face, Killer.

Against him, the arms tightened a little more, pushing him to turn around, to see for himself that it wasn't a bad dream. And it wasn't... When he turned, his gaze met the golden one, making his soul purr softly.

- I... I missed you... Killer repeated.

Gradually, a smile came over the guard's face. A sincere smile, far from the many, many fake smiles he had taken in his life. And that smile was contagious, causing Killer to return it as he put his arms around the body that was slowly regaining its warmth.

- I missed you Dream... Killer whispered again, wanting to anchor that sentence to show her how serious he was.

Small black tears rolled down his cheeks, but soon he felt Dream's thumbs come to caress his cheekbones, banishing the worry that had been eating away at the madman. Killer closed his eyes for a moment, enjoying the moment, feeling the little guardian's body snuggle and warm against him. Then when he opened them again, one of his empty eye sockets had regained a small gleam of a white pupil, gently confronting the golden one that wouldn't let go.

They were so happy to be together again, but no more words came to them. Gestures were enough. There was no need for more, they understood each other perfectly. So much so that when Killer felt the hands on his cheeks gently tugging at his face, he let himself go. Without needing a single word, they brought their faces closer together, granting each other something they had dreamed of on the other side but never dared to speak. But this time they knew they could, and in sweet silence their teeth sealed together, stopping time around them, making their souls beat as they had never felt before.

The kiss lasted only a few seconds, but it seemed like an eternity, but also too short for them. The closeness of their bodies made them feel how sincere the other was and they couldn't help but blush when they looked at each other again.

But this moment was short-lived. The guardian's awakening had taken its toll and they were soon separated by the sound of portals opening. Behind Dream, Ink and Blue had just arrived, while behind Killer, Nightmare had arrived.

The two sanses stars grabbed their friend, coming to hide him behind them as they began to insult Nightmare, the latter growling that his spell hadn't lasted long enough. But Dream and Killer didn't seem to care about the quarrel, not taking their eyes off each other, smiling at each other.

The guard was then grabbed by the arm by Ink, wanting to take him to rest, and he didn't object, following his friends to the portal. Nightmare had also summoned a portal, shouting at Killer to return, as the war was about to start again.

But before leaving, Dream and Killer took one last look at each other. They were looking forward to the next battle. They were looking forward to the next battle, looking forward to slipping away like before, even though from now on their time together would have a completely different flavor.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

English is not my language and if you understand French, I encourage you to read the story in its original language : here 

I hope you liked the story

[freddyjoncs]

𝙲𝙾𝙾𝙻𝚂𝚅𝙸𝙻𝙻𝙴 𝟷𝟿𝟿𝟻.

t a g g i n g : fred jones sr, judy reeves, brad chiles.

t i m e f r a m e : summer 1995

l o c a t i o n :  coolsville

n o t e s : zulema said it’s finally time to expand the coolsville cinematic universe. for more insight to the foolery read freddy’s self-discovery para. 

when the town of coolsville comes to mind you don’t think of the white picket fences, family barbecues in the summertime heat or pleasantville USA. No, you think of the deaths, the monsters, the mysteries that run deep within the town. for years, mayor jones has tried his best to bury the past. He wanted to present this squeaky clean image. a town you could raise a family in, after all, his family was the mold. perfect mayor & father and perfect son. 

and if he couldn’t do that, he would just bank on how marketable the town was.

not everyone could keep up with the joneses after all.

judy reeves knew that all too well. her curiosity is what ultimately lead to her demise. had she only stopped digging perhaps she could’ve had the white picket fence dream her boyfriend always dreamed for them and their son.

being a coolsville native, judy always knew there was something off about the town. bad things always happened to coolsville inhabitants. the neighbouring city of hallow falls seemed to have the same luck, not as bad, she thought. sure, they had the myth of the sanderson sisters but at least people didn’t die every couple of years in their town. coolsville didn’t have that luck. she could tell you the stories of each killer by heart. she had memorized them, found an interest in it like every teen had.  

captain cutler, miner-forty-niner, creeper, fireball mcphan, ben ravencroft, jonathan jacobo, lena dupree and most recently tommy lomis. all infamous for the crimes they had committed against the town. all now stories told to scare children. but judy knew there was more to it. these weren’t stories or just random happenings. it was a curse.

coolsville was cursed.

over the years the stories no longer struck fear into the hearts of the people of coolsville. the last spree had happened in 1978 at the now demolished camp Grimwood. The Jones family had seen to it that the camp would be gone in hopes for the town to move on. They had healed now. it felt right to go back to a life or normalcy. it’s what brad had wanted for them - especially when their son robbie came along.

judy reeves and brad chiles, high school sweethearts turned young parents had always been stuck to each other’s side through thick and thin. Judy a bright girl with an extraordinary future before her. at least, that’s what everyone said. valedictorian,  prom queen, top of her class and just over all a wonderful girl. everyone believed she was going places until she found herself shacked up with brad chiles, the boy from the other side of the tracks who was nothing but trouble. they all said the moment they met her life was over. when she got pregnant her senior year of high school everyone believed it to be true. another waste of a perfectly good future. it’s why the elite of coolsville stayed on their side. 

but Judy had never been like them. she wasn’t a classist asshole like her parents. Brad wasn’t some fun little side project either. she genuinely loved him and their son who game into the world on graduation. she didn’t need fancy titles, nice cars or riches to make her happy in life. the family she had created with brad was enough. life was perfect in her eyes

that is until her brother murdered innocent people. 

it was a late summer in june. Brad’s brother, Jacob, who worked at the local mall was on a closing shift. He was supposed to return home just like he always did but instead they received a call from sheriff stone. Jacob was dead. Not only that he had murdered five people at the mall including his best friend, Alice May. The only way to stop him was a shot through the head.

Judy couldn’t believe it. She refused to believe it. Brad’s brother would never do such a thing. Jacob was a good kid he wasn’t capable of murder. there was only one reason as to why he would behave in such a way.

the curse.

it had to be the curse. Judy was so sure of it. There was no way Jacob could ever do such a thing. 

“There has to be some knowledge about it.” Judy said as she looked through books in the local library. 

“babe, it’s late. we’ve been at this for hours. we’ve found nothing.” which is exactly what brad expected. he didn’t have the heart to tell his girlfriend to stop. nor did he have the heart to tell her that trying to place a curse on his brother’s actions didn’t help the grieving process. 

“brad, I know there has to be something here. everyone chants about that damn curse and spit it in your face. they write it on the walls, for christ sa-” a hand fell on judy’s hand during her tangent.

“our son is at home.” was all brad said and judy stopped to look at him with sad eyes. as much as her stubbornness wanted to keep pushing for answers Judy knew that Robbie was waiting for them at home. Another day, she thought. another day she’d try it again. for now, she would go home and take care of her son.

.....

as much as brad wanted judy to stop her wild goose chase he knew she would never stop. by the end of june he had enough of it. they fought more about her trying to break this silly curse than anything else. he had made peace with what happened with his brother why couldn’t judy just leave it the fuck alone? 

“there is no curse judy!” he yelled, pinching the bridge of his nose in frustration.

“Yes there is, brad! Why do you think bad things keep happening to this town? consistent murders don’t just happen like they do here.”

“people are monsters. what do you expect? it can’t all be sunshine and rainbows. I know the north side taught you that it was.” there was a silence that fell over them.

“I didn’t mean-” fuck, but he did, didn’t he? he resented judy at times because she came from privilege because she lived in the land of white picket fences and green lawns and he came from the side of the town where your brothers killed innocent people. 

“I know that I had it much easier than you. You don’t have to throw that in my face. but why can’t you just believe me? The stories-”

“they’re just ghost stories, judy.” 

she turned away from him, not wanting brad to see the tears welling up in her eyes.

“but they’re not.”

.....

it turns out her relentless searching wasn’t for nothing. on her journey for the truth she discovered two of her classmates, Cassidy Williams and Ricky Owens, were believers of the curse as well. in fact, they had a uncovered more clues than judy had alone.

the curse, was believed to be brought upon by annabeth fier. a witch from hallow falls. it was said she cursed the town for hanging her and every so years she came and exacted her revenge on coolsville for what they had done to her. 

for the first time it made sense. a town full of mysteries and this had to be the biggest one of all. Ricky and Cassidy held the biggest clue of all - an occult book with information on the curse and a path to the witches mark. it felt like a long shot and maybe it was but it was also the closest judy had gotten to the truth. she couldn’t give up now that she was close. the truth was being dangled before her. if she could prove that the curse was real maybe she could also break it as well. 

although things were tense between her and brad he had promised to accompany her on the journey. not without a price of course. if this turned out to be a hoax, as he believed it to be, he made judy promise him this is the last that she’d ever bring up the curse. it was the deal judy had agreed to. she would do just about anything to bring back some normalcy between her and brad again. she knew he was mostly going for his own peace of mind since he didn’t trust the stranger leading judy on her wild goose chase.

the four of them were going to uncover the truth of coolsville.

......

The witches mark was located until the coolsville mall which is where the grimwood camp massacre took place. the mall was reopened now that a month had passed after the murder. judy could tell brad was tense sitting the the driveway. the pain would never go away, the wound was still too fresh. there was a wave of guilt that washed over judy as she stared at the building before her. 

Cassidy’s uncle worked as a janitor for the mall so they had access to the place after dark. the only way to get under was to get in. after strategic planning the four made their way into the building once closed. From the looks of the map the closest entrance was a grate near the emergency exit. it was a tight squeeze but the four of them managed to get in.

it was dark and cold. the underlying tunnels under the mall were cave like. the further they ventured the more the air in the channels seemed to shift. there was buzzing in the distance of what seemed like flies and a pounding? why was there pounding in caves. It sounded like a heart, beating rhythmically in time to theirs. it seemed to grow louder, faster the four swore the ground beneath them was vibrating. as they continued the once barren cave was now grown with red moss, littering every inch of the walls around them and soon they found themselves at the heart of it all.

etched out before them was the same symbol in the book cassidy was holding. the witches mark. The four of them stared at it in awe until ricky’s voice broke the silence. “Yo, guys y’all might wanna see this.” the trio turned to see giant slabs of stone before them with writing present on each one. judy got closer to see what was written before her.

 captain cutler, miner-forty-niner, creeper, fireball mcphan, ben ravencroft, jonathan jacobo, lena dupree, tommy lomis and jacob chiles.

all the names of the coolsville killers.

“Every single person written here went on a killing spree.” Ricky said softly as he began to reach out to touch the stone but was abruptly stopped by brad.

“So what does that mean someone’s playing god and forcing people to do this shit?” brad spat, his eyes staring intently at his brother’s name.

“Close.”

a voice called from the distance. 

“I wouldn’t call it god.” from the shadows of the tunnel appeared Fred Jones, the mayor’s son. coolsville’s golden boy in every single way. The Jones family was one of if not the wealthiest family in town with immense power in their hands. the way he was staring at the four of them left judy’s stomach uneasy.

“how do you know about this place?” she asked, pretending to not hear the latter part of his statement.

“better question, why are you and how did you get that?” he said, nodding towards the book that cassidy was now holding close to her chest.

“Don’t make me ask you again or else-” judy started but was promptly cut off. “Or else what? you’re going to cry curse again? my god, Judy, you’ve turned into the town nut. who’s going to listen to a word you say? after you’ve lost your status shacking up with that southside trash no one is going to care what you think. I mean, if you dump him maybe they would but with that brat of yours....” and as if on cue another figure emerged from the shadows carrying a sleeping robbie in their arms. “no one will ever believe you again.”

At the sight of their child, Brad began to lunge towards Fred but was halted by a raised finger and a a string of tsks. “You wouldn’t want to wake the baby now would you?”

“What do you want, Fred?” Judy croaked out, her hand placed on Brad’s arm as she tried to keep her boyfriend at bay. she was barely keeping her own composure.

“I want the book. It belong to my family. I also want your compliance. The four of you know too much. I can’t have you silly little wannabe sleuths exposing the truth. So i want you gone. All of you are to leave coolsville before sunrise. that is, if you’d like to live of course. Give me any problems or tell a soul about any of this and i’ll make sure brad’s name is right under his brothers.” he paused to look brad dead in the eyes who was now looking as pale as a ghost. “you’ll only remember bits and pieces of killing them, Bradley but I know you’ll remember the sound of their screams and their blood on your hands.” the wicked grin on fred’s face struck fear into the very core of all four of them. 

“and to make sure no funny business occurs. i’m keeping him. for collateral.” Fred added as baby robbie was placed into his arms. and at that the four of them were being escorted out of the cave by fred’s goons. judy doesn’t remember much. the entire situation was a haze of emotions. the next thing she remembered was driving away in brad’s van, an unsettling silence hanging over them as tears streamed down her face. the sunset before them was a sign that day was here once again. how could she begin to think of a new day when her entire world had been shattered in an entire night?

she should have listened to brad and stopped searching for answers in ghost stories. 

that’s all they weren’t after all.

stories.

......

looking down at the child in his arms fred’s brows furrowed as his index finger caressed the smooth cheek of the child. It caused the baby to stir but never waking up. Fred almost found it endearing. almost. There was no time for attachments. There was a prophecy to be continued. the baby in his arms was the key for their success. 

“Dad always said I needed an heir. you’ll be just perfect won’t you, freddy?”

......

freddy looked down at the book in front of him. when he searched his father's belongings he had found the book hidden next to his files. after the monsters had attacked freddy looked to the book for answers. he was going to show the gang but with all that was going on how could he bring up coolsville mysteries when they were fighting for their lives? he knew how to read a room.

so now here he was alone in his room looking at the book. he hadn’t dare open it since he brought it back. what laid within it scared freddy more than anything but if he was going to get answers about his father he needed to start here.

why else would his father have this if it wasn’t important?

so he opened it only to find that the curse was true. the one he had heard stories of that his father said was nothing but bullshit. just like his pretend mysteries. 

the only way to break the curse was to unite hand with body. 

[elephart-hi]

The Mortal Maiden: Witch!Jude

Chapter 4: A Trip Down Memory Lane

summary: Jude slapped herself hard. Her ears ringing from the blow. She furiously wiped the hot tears that had fallen, telling herself that she didn’t need the memories, that they made her weak. Jude was not one for nostalgia. She never would be. With her heart locked back in its armor she mounted her riding toad and kicked it to a start.

Rating: Mature but not explicitly till later chapters!

AN: this is a shorter chapter! it was supposed to be the end of the last one but it was too long so I extended it.

also no beta for this chapter tee hee

Ao3 Chapter 1 2 3 You are reading Ch 4

The stairwell let out at the stables just as Darnel had told her it would. She could tell by the color of the sky that it was late afternoon already and that dusk would be only a few hours off. She still needed to get to the spy’s keep, report to Dain, and then back into her bed before Tatterfell came to wake her for her classes.

She was running out of time.

Jude hides behind mounds of hay and horse feed as she waits for the stable hand to get near. Impatient, she throws a pebble into one of the horses’ pens, and the steed whines out. The half-fae immediately comes over to see what’s wrong but Jude gets him in a headlock before he can, pressing down on a pressure point. She holds him till he stops struggling and passes out, then drags his body behind the hay where he will either wake up or be discovered.

Jude eyes the horses wearily as she leaves, recalling the time in the mortal world when she was seven and was thrown from a horse the first time she had ever ridden one. The whole ordeal had left her scared of riding the beasts. At the time hadn’t been an issue since mortals used cars and public transit to get to places. Once she came to Elfhame, however, her slight phobia had become an issue since they were the main means of transportation. She can ride a horse fine now, but she still gets unsettled when they go too fast or get agitated.

As she makes her way into the woods, towards the fallen tree where she had hidden her riding toad, she thinks of how silly it was that her fears from her childhood remain with her even after she had grown accustomed to the horrors of fairyland. Jude could poison herself nightly, stand face to face with cruel princes and live in the same house as her parents’ killer without faltering… but she couldn’t ride horses too fast nor she couldn’t stand the sight of cockroaches. She can’t even get close enough to one of the bugs to kill it yet she has taken a life before!

Jude laughs to herself as she recalls a memory of her cowering on a table in the stronghold demanding that Oak kill one for her. He had looked at her like she had grown a third head and then became equally terrified of the bugs himself. He claimed that if Jude was scared of cockroaches then he absolutely wanted nothing to do with them; convinced that they must be creatures of unimaginable horror to be able to frighten her. Oriana had been furious at Jude for the whole debacle, claiming that she had planted the notion into his head and was purposefully trying to frighten him. Taryn and Vivi had laughed themselves hoarse at the whole thing as the mighty Grand General Madoc had to come to squash a bug for her. He helped her down from the table while eyeing the nub on her left hand, chuckling, ‘You can lose a finger and not say a word but you can’t squash a bug, my dear?’ She had laughed and placed a kiss on his cheek then asked if he was going to dip his cap into its guts to claim his kill. The whole family laughed together, Vivi had to wipe tears from her eyes. Once they were done laughing till their stomachs ached they had made their way to dinner. For a beautiful moment, they were all able to pretend that they were a normal family.

It was one of her fondest memories in fairyland; her heart squeezed at the warmth it brought her.

Jude started, wondering why she had even thought of it. The memory brought joy but always ended bitterly when she remembers why they will never be a normal family. She wasn’t one for nostalgia; more often than not it brought her nothing but pain and heartache. The stars must truly be in a foul mood tonight to make her remember.

She reached her riding toad, and pets the creature fondly; it was far more her speed than any horse would ever be. Jude had no problem riding one of these. Even when their large leaps and bounds were, by all means, more frightening than the steady trot of a horse. Jude would actually argue that riding one was thrilling, the terror making it all the more terrific. The toads did not frighten her… but horses still did.

All because of that one time when she was seven and her family had taken a road trip to a ranch…

Memories from the trip threatened to bubble up and consume her and Jude tried to force them down. She didn’t want to think of how her late parents had comforted and fussed over her after she fell. She didn’t want to think about all the fun her family had had, or how she and Taryn had counted how many cows they saw out the window to make the drive go by faster, or how Vivi came up with backstories for the cows while their parents chimed in. That time of her life hurt too much to think of.

Jude felt her throat constrict and her eyes sting.

“Ahhhgg!’ Jude screamed at herself. Why did the stars hate her? Why must they make her think back on all of these painful memories?

Jude slapped herself hard. Her ears ringing from the blow. She furiously wiped the hot tears that had fallen, telling herself that she didn’t need the memories, that they made her weak.

Jude was not one for nostalgia. She never would be. With her heart locked back in its armor she mounted her riding toad and kicked it to a start.

The toad leaps through the woods, over boulders and dodging trees with grace and ease. Jude, however, gets jostled and knocked around from its back, far less grace being felt as the rider.

As they raced towards the spy’s keep, Jude distracts herself from her past with the knowledge she gleaned from the mission. One thought chiming in time with her heartbeat.

Magic, Magic, Magic.

Maybe Jude could be more than a mortal, or swords master, or a spy…

Maybe she could be magic.

Maybe she could be a witch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cardan bends down and picks up the peculiar object from the floor. It was one of the mortal things that had fallen from Jude’s pocket. The label read, ‘colored contacts: yellow.’

“Sooo,” Darnal drawled at him from where he had locked Cardan in his chambers, “what did I miss while I left the two of you alone? Clearly some good came of my meddling”

Cardan gave him a look. Did he really think Cardan would fill him in after what he did?

Cardan turned his back on him, tucking the mortal object into the pocket of his riding cloak. Perhaps he would use it as an excuse to speak to her tomorrow at school. He heaved a sigh, knowing he wouldn’t. She would probably stab him if he tried to, or she would tell everyone what happened.

‘How will Balekin react to you sullying yourself with a lowly mortal like me,’ she spat at him. Cardan didn’t want to think about it. He wondered if Balekin would move past threats and actually cut off his tail for it. He felt it wrap around him in comfort, now freed from his pants since Jude was gone.

Darnal heaved a sigh and spoke once more, his face moving to a door closer to Cardan’s field of vision, “You know why I helped her escape, Cardan. I had to after I heard you speak of witchcraft.”

Cardan knew this. He knew why Darnal was cursed to guard the manor.

“There was a time when no one turned their head up about caring for mortals you know. It is not a bad thing to care for her,” Daral continued when Cardan said nothing.

“That time has long past my friend,” Cardan said. The door was his friend Cardan thought. Probably his only genuine one, but the doorknocker only stayed and treated him kindly because he was trapped in Cardan’s home. He didn’t doubt that Darnal would want nothing to do with him if he was free from his bonds. Cardan sighed thinking of the course of events that had taken place five centuries prior that led to his entrapment.

“I’m sorry about your lost love,” Cardan said as he made his way under his covers.

Darnal’s dead lover was the reason that mortals were no longer welcome among the folk. She was the reason that the age of witches belonged to the past…

Truthfully, Balekin was more to blame than anyone else. But the victors were the ones who tell the stories, not their victims.

“She looks like my Elith, your Jude,” Darnal says quietly, Cardan can hear the heartache in his voice that hadn’t diminished in more than 500 years, “She has the same fire in her that Eli did,”

“Does it pain you to see us together then?” Cardan asked, knowing how he and Balekin resembled one another.

“Some,” Darnal admits. After a beat, he adds, “but not much. I like to think you would care for her better than Balekin cared for his wife. You are far better than your brother, Cardan.”

The words bring comfort but not much. The prophecy from his birth says that he will be far worse than Balekin.

“Good day, my door,” Cardan says after a long pause, closing his eyes to get a few hours of rest before school, his stone heart heavy in his chest.

“Sleep well, my prince,” was the last thing Cardan heard before he drifted away.

Ao3

Previous ch 3

[fanficteen]

Old Friend

deucalion x reader

“(Y/N)?” Rafael’s voice crackled on the other end of the phone. “McCall?” “I need your help.” Sirens whirled in the background. “You what?” “There’s a hunting problem.” That cleared absolutely nothing up. “I’m an author, not a cop, McCall.” “At the shipyard,” he continued, as though he hadn’t heard you. “Remember I told you about the Hale attack?” “McCall,” you heard, muffled, on the other end of the phone. “Name’s a little too close to home, ain’t it, Ferrell?” “Please.” The line went dead. “Hale attack? That was a fire.” Your heart plummeted in your chest. “Hunters.” You scrambled for the door, not even bothering to lock it as you ran. You’d heard about them coming, heard about the new pack, the True Alpha. Hell, you’d even helped once or twice, when Melissa or Argent called you in. But you hadn’t made the connection between McCall and Scott McCall, the tiny, chubby little kid you’d looked after while his mom worked.

Guns were already firing when you reached the shipyard, and someone was crawling for cover. Or, trying too. He was far too old to be Scott, even as his eyes flashed red, claws extending to drag him across the ground. Three teenagers were scattered around the yard, another man crouched behind a steel beam. You waited, as the Hunters moved forward. Then the barrage ceased, though they kept their guns raised. You launched forward, then, and cut off three from the back with ease. You grabbed a fourth by the throat and tossed him into another, finally drawing their attention to you, as you managed to grab the wounded wolf and bolt in their confusion. “Made a new friend, Scott?” That voice sent chills down your spine, blood-soaked memories clawing their way from the pit of your mind. Your parents – human parents, dead on the floor, just for protecting you. “Just in time to bury them.” You swept through the group to the woman speaking, throwing her to the ground. She spun to look at you, as she landed, but you were already moving, surging towards her. Through the corner of your eye, you caught sight of one of her hunters moving towards the stone column, where Scott was crouched, and you changed courses, knowing you wouldn’t get there in time. Then an engine revved, and suddenly there was a Jeep spearing into the shipyards and the Hunter went flying from the impact. You felt a bullet shatter your shoulder and growled, turning back towards Monroe as two new faces joined the fight. She glanced at you, then behind her, and took off for her car, her men following behind her. Half of you wanted to go after her, but Scott needed you more than you needed revenge. Scott’s pack soon grouped up around where he was struggling, vainly, to stem the blood flow of the wounded man. You pushed him aside, lightly, kneeling in his place. The man ignored you, still focused on Scott. Something about Gerard and knowing he couldn’t win. His breath cut off. “It’s really started, hasn’t it?” None of them stopped you, but you could feel them staring as you leaned forward, eyes flashing black, as you buried your claws in the back of his neck. “Hey!” The late werewolf – a Hale – grabbed Scott’s arm as he protested. “She’s a Grim,” he breathed, as the man’s flashed open and he gasped for breath. “She just – she just brought him back from the dead, right?” Stiles asked, jaw dropped. “I’m not insane?” “She just brought him back from the dead,” the redhead agreed. “He wasn’t quite dead,” you corrected, immediately darting out of the way as the man swung onto his hands and knees, choking in mouthfuls of air.

“Who – wait, (Y/N)?!” “It’s been a while, pup.” He stared as you rubbed the back of your neck, awkwardly. “Pretty impressive pack you’ve gathered. A handful of Hales, a Banshee, another Alpha…” You glanced at Stiles. “…the Sheriff’s son. Very human, very smart. You’re taking good care of him, right?” You carefully placed your foot on the wounded man’s back as he moved to stand. He swung his head around to glare. “Sorry, but you should stay down there, sir.” “Gonna introduce us, Scott?” the late Hale prompted. “Oh! Yeah, sorry,” Scott gestured between you and the pack, “Everyone, this is (Y/N). She used to babysit me as a kid. I did not know she was supernatural. (Y/N), this is Derek, Peter, Malia, Lydia, and you know Stiles.” You tilted your head, surreptitiously, towards the recovering wolf. “That’s Deucalion.” “He’s who?” you questioned, earning a half-hearted laugh from the man on the ground. “Can I get up, now?” he requested, lightly, his voice still rough around the edges. You hesitated, then offered your hand. “You have to let me help you, though.” He glanced from your hand to your face, then sighed and took it, letting you help him to his feet, supporting his aching body. “Nice to meet you, oh Mr Demon Wolf, Destroyer of Worlds, pep-talker of my favourite kid.” He chuckled, lowly. “Nice to meet you, Miss Death-Defier, Beacon Hills’ Grim, babysitter of the True Alpha.” The others were all staring at you, wide-eyed, when you both looked back at them. “We should leave.” “I want to take him to Deaton,” you added, as they all nodded. He sighed, and you all waited for him to protest. “What?” he challenged, letting you help him towards your car, “I’d rather see the Druid than die.”

The roar echoed through the school, reverberating in your chest – pain, anger, hurt. “Scott?!” Before you could take off, Deucalion grabbed your arm. “You don’t know how to fight it.” “Scott’s hurt!” “He’ll be more hurt if you’re dead.” You sighed, but nodded, mutely. “Let me go ahead.” He offered you his hand. “Unless I squeeze your hand, don’t open your eyes. It knows how to trick us.” “Don’t you need that?” You glanced at his hand, and he offered you a lopsided smirk. “If I do, I’ll just throw you with my punch.” You snorted, but took his hand anyway. “Give me some warning, I’ll even put my claws out and actually make myself useful.”

“Bobby?!” The Coach spun at the sound of your voice. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you hurt?” “Just looking after my players,” he answered, brightly. You raised an eyebrow. “Some asshole thought he could get away with touching my boys outside my office. I mean, sure, Jackson and Ethan aren’t my team anymore, but they’re still –” “Bobby, are they okay?” “What? Of course,” he huffed, folding his arms. “I hit him with a lacrosse stick.” Deucalion raised an eyebrow. “Not all of us have fangs and claws.” Then he paused for a moment. “Hang on, you’re the asshole–“ “Coach?” You heard a clatter in the nearby entrance hall, as Scott appeared, but just surged towards him. Deucalion headed for the noise. Blood still stained around his eyes but he smiled, offering a soft laugh, as you checked him over. “I’m fine.” “You blinded yourself?” Horror coursed through you. “He what?” Bobby demanded. Jackson and Ethan appeared, from the same direction Bobby had come. Ethan did a double take, but Deucalion held up his hands in surrender, and the boy approached, warily. “Coach, why are you here?” Stiles questioned, still entirely bewildered. “He just saved us,” Ethan admitted, making Derek raise an eyebrow. “Malia?” Peter crashed through the doors behind them. “Malia– you’re okay.” The girl in question smiled, brightly, crushing her father into a hug. Peter froze. Derek kicked Stiles before he could snicker. “Coach saved you?” Stiles asked, returning his attention to the boys. “No need for that tone, Stilinski.” “He beat a hunter unconscious with a lacrosse stick,” Jackson explained, and Stiles’ jaw dropped further. “Wait, do you know about this, Coach?” Scott asked, brows furrowed. “Of course I know. That’s my sister fussing over you.” “She’s your what?” “I’m adopted,” you assured the baffled teenagers.

Deucalion cleared his throat, summoning your attention. He held up Monroe by her collar. “She’s still alive.” “You won’t kill me,” she sneered, “McCall won’t let you.” “McCall’s not my Alpha,” Deucalion responded, eyes flashing red. “Yet you still deferred to him.” Deucalion snarled, but looked back to Scott. “This is your territory, Scott.” The boy hesitated. “But it’s a war for all of us.” They hadn’t even seen you moving before her heart dropped to the floor. “(Y/N)?!” “What the hell?!” Deucalion didn’t speak through the teenaged chorus, just discarded the body, unceremoniously, curious gaze fixed on your face. “A woman after my own heart.” Malia elbowed Peter, cutting off his muttering. “Was that her?” A sob tore from your throat at Bobby’s question, raw and ragged, but you nodded. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at your brother, or at Scott, afraid of what you would see there. So you just held Deucalion’s gaze, as if begging him to understand… something. Anything. Even you weren’t sure what. The man was a killer, after all. You didn’t need to justify yourself to him. You could hear Bobby explaining, behind you, but still didn’t dare look back. You flinched when Deucalion finally broke the impasse by taking a step forward, but didn’t move away. He continued forward, slowly, until he had closed the distance between you, a warm hand coming to rest on your shoulder.

“Are you alright?” The question was stiff, awkward, but you couldn’t say you expected any different. Before you even registered what you were doing, you slumped forward, burying your head in his chest. He went stiff for a moment, but you soon felt his arms inch around you, one hand coming to your hair. Your sobs began to fade, breathing falling into sync with the soothing fingers trailing through your hair. “Am I seeing this right– ow, Derek!” A low growl rumbled from Deucalion’s chest, vibrating through your body, and Stiles fell silent. With a shuddering breath, you pulled away and looked up to meet the eyes of the Alpha of Alphas. He raised an eyebrow, but his expression was gentle. “Sorry,” you mumbled. “You just single-handedly destroyed a well-manicured, decades-old reputation.” There was no anger in his voice. “I think you did that when you started practicing pacifism,” Peter drawled, making both Scott and Deucalion glare at him. He shrugged, but didn’t try to take it back. “Can I suggest we leave?” Lydia piped up, quietly. “I don’t know about you, but I could do with a shower.” She looked down at her dust-covered hands, the stains of blood and sweat on her clothes. Murmurs of agreement followed, and you all headed for the doors. “Scott, if you see your father, tell him I’ll be by tomorrow.” Scott raised an eyebrow. “You didn’t think I just magically realised you were about to die, did you?” You didn’t bother listening to their mumbled responses, just made a beeline for your car. “Call me tonight!” Bobby shouted after you. You waved your agreement.