#Jokers deck

[ramramdickman]

POKEMON X THE FIRST JOKERS DECK

[catsharky]

The Joker comic I talked about is finally here!

I can't lie, I was pretty disappointed with how the reunion with Joker went in ME2. Out of all the characters, his should have been the most emotionally impactful (he saw Shepard die!!) yet all we got was "Sup?" as though Joker wouldn't have spent the 2 years dealing with insane survivor's guilt. Well to that I say pthhbt. My Shepard would have been beside herself seeing him again for the first time, so he's getting hugged whether he likes it or not.

Also while this is technically part of my ongoing Shakarian comic, please feel free to interpret this as romantic as well as platonic.

Part 1 • Previous Part • Interim Comic 2

[strawberrybyers]

being a slut and mentally ill means i’d do really well as a patient in arkham asylum

[dcxdpdabbles]

DCxDP Fanfic Idea: Petal to the Metal.

It's starts off simple enough.

Tucker realizes that, with the map from the Far Frozen, there was a chance they could find an earth similar to their own within the Infinite Realms. The only difference? It would be a few years ahead of their timeline.

If they happen to pop over there and gather "helpful" tips, like "What were the lottery winning numbers in 2008?" or "What companies were the best to invest in the early 2000s?" then who would be the wiser? It's not like they were stealing anything.

They just put one foot in front of the others at the starting line. Some may say cheating (Sam) but Tucker prefered to be prepared. It didn't take too long for Danny to agree.

A way to guarantee wealth? Sucess? Heck, they may even be able to "discover" cures for deadly illnesses. It would be rather selfish of them not to use the map for the greater good.

Sam chose to stay behind, stating she was already rich and didn't need to cheat into more gold. Tucker personally thought she didn't understand the common folk like the two boys.

The plan was simple. They had already located the suitable earth; they would go in, spend a weekend sightseeing (and gathering info), and then return home. As far as their parents knew, they were going to a concert in another state, having bought fake tickets and hotel rooms to sell them. It took a lot of begging on both sixteen year olds part but eventually neither parent had denied them the trp and off they went.

Danny had even attacked a miniature portal ray to their beat-up car, having taken inspiration from the time Jonny 13 had modified his bike back in the day. He had blown it up after helping the biker win back Kitty, but he hadn't forgotten about it.

They hoped that a car like their own wouldn't stand out too badly in 2020, praying that people would just assume them to bepoor. How different could cars be in such a short time anyway?

The bags were packed, the car was filled, Danny had set the miniature portal, and the two drove out of the city limits to fire it up. It required a lot of speed, since Tucker's plain toyota wasn't a space ship design to travel the death diminsion.

Danny had offered to drive, seeing as Tucker hated being behind the wheel on long road trips, and once his parents could see them- Mr. Foley didn't like his son lending his car to his friends. One never knows what could happen with teenagers- he had switch seat with Danny.

Danny, who has Fenton blood, had him put the petals to the metal and had no problems raising their speed to the one hundred needed for the miniature portal to work. The plan was perfect.

The plan fell apart when the portal opened in front of a clown about to put on a show for a large crowd. They ran him over with their car.

"Omg! You hit a clown!" Tucker screams watching the body roll off the windsheild.

Danny's grip on the stirring wheel was knuckle white but his eyes were narrowed in satisfication. "Good"

"No not good! This isn't Freakshow! That was a random clown doing a show and we killed him!" Tucker screams as Danny puts the car in reverse and runs him over again.

"Danny!"

Outside the vechile people were screaming, lots of them pointing and one clear voice ran above the rest.

"They killed Joker!"

Danny reached down and flickered on his favoritedriving song as various people started to climb on the stage. Poeple dressed in strange clothing.

Was that a Bat?

"Hold on Tuck!" is his own warning before Tokyo Drift started blaring through the speakers as he slammed his foot on the petal again. They blew through some barrels of green liquid and drifted off the stage onto the road with Danny sining at the top of his lungs.

Tucker could barely hear himself scream as people jumped out fo the way unprepare for a Driving Fenton like Amity Park was.

Maybe Sam was right. This was a terrible idea.

[puppyeared]

im so predictable

[see-arcane]

Cards with the Count

Thinking about how Jonathan is trying to pass the time during Vampire Hell Staycation with all the books in the library (a guaranteed Dracula Zone), no stationery (bastard), and a finite amount of secret pen ink and secret diary pages left at his disposal (shit). Reading and writing and art are all out. What’s left?

I like to think, in this order:

1)    He remembers that he has a pack of playing cards in the general luggage Dracula didn’t snatch. A gift Lucy had bestowed on him and Mina, a pack apiece, as she insisted that it was the best way to pass an hour in dreary company that wasn’t to do with gossip or politics.

2)    He doesn’t normally play, if only because he doesn’t have the coin to meet any real gambling stranger at a table. Just a ‘for fun’ thing.

3)    Fuck it. Solitaire. Card towers. It’s something to keep his mind off the…everything.

4)    He gets exactly one (1) day/evening of peace with this. Then:

5)    “Whatever are you up to, my friend?” 

(He didn’t even use the door to give Jonathan time to hide the pack. Misted in. No shadow to give him away. Fantastic.) Jonathan staples his smile back in place and rattles off something apologetic, so sorry, was he keeping the Count waiting? Let him just put this away, he wouldn’t be interested—

6)    Smash cut to the library. The cards are now unofficially confiscated/a staple of the Dracula Zone, alongside the fancy crystal chessboard the Count loves to crush him with on a semi-regular basis. Jonathan is walking him through the rules of sundry card games. Unsurprisingly, he latches onto the concept of American poker readily. The game is a soup of similar European predecessors that light up his eyes with recognition—primero, poque, brelan—sewn together with England’s game of brag into a medley of the initial rules, both written and unwritten.

7)    “A game of skill, then?”

“Skill, acting, and luck.”

Dracula grins as he produces a ransom of gold coins to use as chips. Jonathan deals. 

(What are the extra rules here? Does he throw every hand? Does he play in earnest and inevitably lose anyway? Does it even matter? It isn’t chess, after all. Not a proper strategy game. Cards happen. Guesswork happens. A winner and loser every turn. What does it matter?)

8)    Jonathan realizes two dozen hands later that what matters is, apparently, his face. One that, likewise apparently, cannot be read by the Count in this game. Out of those two dozen hands, Jonathan has won eighteen. Of those eighteen, his hand was the clear dud for nine. Through it all, Dracula’s eyes keep jumping from his own hand to Jonathan’s tired gaze. When Jonathan wins the twenty-fifth hand and the mountain of gold on his side of the table risks toppling off the edge, Dracula bites out a word Jonathan is sure is too caustic to have a spot in the lost polyglot dictionary.

9)    “You have a gift for schooling your face, my friend.” Every word is an icicle; each as sharp as the canines jutting out of the rictus grin.

“I don’t,” Jonathan says. 

And it’s true. Now he’s schooling his face—first lesson of anyone destined for the realm of serving others—but in the game, he’s barely thinking of anything else beyond the ticking of the clock. To punctuate this, he slides the heap of gold back to Dracula’s side of the table. 

“This is only a game for the fun of it. In a game with stakes, there would be something worth playing and worrying for. When you get to England,” his face is very, very schooled as he says this, “you’ll find a much more varied competition at gambling tables. The players who really train their expressions can do so with fortunes at stake, while novices reveal every victory or loss plainly on their face.”

10) Dracula considers this. And smiles.

11) “Ah, then there must be stakes before we can play the game properly. Still, you have won the bulk of these rounds, my friend—” his hand seems like it wants to be strangling something when it drums atop the gold heap, “—and done me the charity of not taking your rightful winnings.” He throws down his cards. Ace and deuce of spades. “I shall have to speak with the kitchen about producing a stand-in prize.” 

He leaves. Jonathan doesn’t blink when he hears the door lock behind him. A card pyramid is erected.

12) Paprika hendl for supper. As excellent as he remembers. Huzzah.

13) The next time he’s herded into the library, he sees what looks suspiciously like his travel paraphernalia flimsily hidden behind a bit of drapery. Dracula is shuffling the deck.

14) “A true prize on the table this time, my friend. I know you are one to appreciate the splendor of our beautiful country, just as I know it is, for your own safety, quite impossible to go exploring alone in the wild. Too many wolves about. But if you win the majority tonight, I shall see to it that my driver takes a leave from his own many errands to escort you beyond the castle for a time, if you so wish.”

“…And if I lose the majority?” He can’t help it: “I’m sure there’s little from me you’d be interested in.”

Dracula grins.

“We shall think of something, I’m certain. Here. Deal.”

15) As expected, Jonathan’s face isn’t effortlessly unreadable in its misery anymore. He has something to play for, even if his trust in Dracula’s dangling carrot on the stick is nigh nonexistent. He loses more. He struggles more. He worries more…

16) …But the wins and losses remain surprisingly even. On into the dawn they play, matching victory for victory. Even the Count seems puzzled. Jonathan is just tired. He was never going to win. The ‘driver’ will fall to some mysterious ailment, his possessions will disappear the moment he’s sent out of the room ahead of the Count. To Hell with it.

17) “I forfeit. We remain tied, so neither has to lose.” A sour smile curls. “Besides, I have kept you up too late again.”

“One more.”

“We can say you won—,”

Dracula gives him a Look.

Jonathan sits again. Plays again.

Wins again.

Dracula hisses several words the polyglot dictionary would be scandalized to translate. Jonathan feels the first genuine smile he’s wanted to make in a month and a half try to creep up on his lips, and stifles it.

18) Dracula turns over his cards and thumbs though the deck as if looking for a conspirator. He even scowls at Jonathan’s forearms, both bare through the whole game as he’d rolled up his sleeves. Still grumbling, his thumbnail finally hooks a card that makes a cloud pass over his face.

19) “What. Is this?”

Jonathan looks.

“Oh, that’s just a Joker.”

“Joker?”

“Yes, I thought I’d taken him out. He’s not a usable card in this game, but he’s sometimes used as a trump or wild card in others. That is, he’s there to turn the tide for whoever gets to play him.”

Jonathan reaches for the card to tuck it back in the box. Dracula pulls it out of reach, walks to the fireplace, and flicks it into the flames.

“Say what you will, but I recognize a symbol of sabotage when I see it. It should not be in the deck at all!” Still watching the little harlequin turn to cinders, he flaps his other hand at Jonathan. “Go rest, my friend. Take that infernal game with you. It is not a respectable pastime for men of our like.”

20) Jonathan gathers up the deck, gives his travel kit a last mournful look, and leaves for his bedroom, knowing not to ask after the walk in the forest as he goes. In his bed, he empties the deck into his hand again and thinks on four things.

Skill.

Acting.

Luck.

And…

21) He turns the deck’s neglected second Joker over in his fingers, the impish face seeming to hold a secret in its grin.

22) When he wakes next, he isn’t surprised to find the deck has been stolen. It doesn’t trouble him. Somehow, it even produces a tired grin on his face. It nearly matches the painted thing hidden, wild and powerful, in the pages of his journal.

[corgiplays]

@minafeu I blame you lovingly.

Little synopsis: Chloe is bonkers and kills King Beast brutally to prepare Auradon as the perfect gift for Red.

⚠️Trigger Warning ⚠️ Blood, guts, gore, and the illusion to possible cannibalism (?)

King Adam, or really former king, his son is currently at the seat of the throne wherever he is, was a tyrant. No matter how much he tries to paint Bridget as some crazed tyrant of Wonderland he takes the cake.

To talk about what's her's like she's the scum of the earth, Chloe had half a mind to just kill him there in her parents meeting room. But Chloe Grace Charming was taught better, she knew how to dismantle a kingdom from the inside, fear.

"I still do not understand why you haven't killed the bastard yet." The spectral wolf person says as they float next to Chloe who's hanging on a windowsill, rain battering the dark leather jacket she has on.

"Patients, there is a reason why we're waiting and you know it." Chloe snaps. To anyone else it would look like she's talking to nothing, but herself. For the last eight years Chloe has seen this wolf, it guides her, tells her stuff she wouldn't have noticed, telling her when someone is moving in on what's her's. She shakes herself as the last servant leaves Adam's study, leaving the "king" alone. Chloe climbs up higher to where a window, just high enough for the beast to not spot her shadow in the moonlight.

The window creeks in time with thunder as Chloe slips in, clicking the window shut behind herself and slinking into the shadows. Chloe remembers learning about the beast's curse, how he still has heighten sense and the strength of a beast left enough though he was cured making close combat a problem.

Chloe slipped from shadow to shadow, staying downwind as she moved behind Adam. Chloe's hand reaches for the danger on her side, grasping the cool black metal with a red hilt in her hand as she takes a step closer.

Torture him.

Make him suffer.

The wolf's animalistic voice whispers into her ears, curling around her soul as she lunges stabbing Adam just right before where his cervical spine ends. His body goes ridged and falls onto his desk with a thump.

Chloe walks around to the front of the desk with a sinister smile as she watches Adam try to move any part of his body.

"It's pointless, I severed your cervical spine just so were you can still breath, but not move." Chloe practically snarled as she crouches down to Adam's head.

"You're insane!" Adam snarls back, his body immobile as Chloe drags him from the desk with surprising strength.

"No, I'm not. You're the false king who wants to wage war with Wonderland again. Isn't one lose enough for you?" Chloe snaps holding the king by his hair. Something about her was unnatural to him, the way she moved and spoke was like there was an echo that followed her voice. Chloe took her dagger back out, and stabbed the king above his sternum, the dagger slicing through the fat and muscle like butter as Adam gasps and tries to yell before Chloe covers his mouth with a bloody hand.

"Shh, you don't feel anything you're spine is severed remember." Her voice has a surprisingly amount of sincerity as the crack of thunder and the snapping of his rib echo at the same time.

By the time Chloe finishes breaking away Adam's ribs from his sternum the false king is barely conscious, his heart exposed and beating weakly as Chloe wonders around his office leaving bloody hand prints on various pieces of furniture.

"Oh Adam, I wonder if anyone will miss a beast like you." Chloe rasps out loud as the king tries glaring at her. "Your kingdom will be the perfect engagement gift for my girl." Chloe says with a smirk as she crouches back in front of Adam tiliting his chin to look at her.

Adam's last breath is taken staring into possibly glowing eyes before any life leaves him.

Take his heart.

The wolf's tone is convincing as Chloe pulls the heart out with ease, the light of the moon peaking in the night sky.

---

That morning the news is buzzing with fear and conspiracies.

King Adam Found Dead

His body found cut open, ribs pulled out, heart missing, and intestines hanging out while his body was nailed to a wall in his study.

The kingdom plunges into irrational fear while the Charming's sit in silence when hearing the news, they know exactly who killed the king...

[rudamaruda520]

and finally last but not least

the jokers 🃏

[poofmalyakaet]

BIG ACRYLIC SH⭐️P update!

Limited stock for everything! Link: CLICK HERE

[sirhinkjinks]

bonus:

[ghosted-draws]

Third eye is a joker thing! He needs to see every angle, to always be able to know that path forward. but considering the personas general tendency of completely exhausting their users i don’t imagine living with that vision is very nice. Its even available in the real world, unlike any other persona abilities, so he carries a piece of the metaverse with him. Sometimes it’s just too much, too many, for one person.

[achirding]

SatBK Week 4: Tapestry

The Queen Of Hearts - Christina Georgina Rossetti 

How comes it, Flora, that, whenever we Play cards together, you invariably,    However the pack parts,    Still hold the Queen of Hearts?

I've scanned you with a scrutinizing gaze, Resolved to fathom these your secret ways:    But, sift them as I will,    Your ways are secret still.

I cut and shuffle; shuffle, cut, again; But all my cutting, shuffling, proves in vain:    Vain hope, vain forethought too;    The Queen still falls to you.

[lukeskywhiskers]

i must entertain

[pulpsandcomics2]

Deck of Cards - Diamonds

[arctixout]

body jewelry

[chelshiart]

professionals, these two