#casual murder

[lifeisabaddream]

Do you ever just get the urge to kill someone?

[whyislenaluthorsohot]

Hope: It is more important to be a murderess than the one murdered.

[portable-saint]

Region concept: Shining Glade

Basically, it's like memory crypts but it's depressing

You would find Spearmaster's mummified corpse in one shelter and can eat it for 2 pips of food also maaaaaaybe Arti 's ghost if you bring slugpups. (CONSUME THE MESSENGER)

It's memory crypts but with ghosts and no Miros. There would be one room, similar to the karma 10 room in depths near the guardians, with graffiti of an Iterator with Saint's X Of death over them. It'd be assessable by a gate in Shaded citadel, requiring Karma 3 to enter.

If you go as Saint, it's blanketed with snow, and IMPOSSIBLE to survive without a lantern. The special room has a little secret. If you activate God mode in there, Saint will automatically start blasting the Graffiti, And reversed, yet very quiet Iterator sounds would play. If you're wondering, It's a reference to Challenge 70 because WHY NOT.

[inkribbon796]

Egotober 2022 Day 29: Ghosts of the Past

Summary: Wilford is in a foul mood, and every few people can stop him in this type of mood.

A/N: Inspired by: https://at.tumblr.com/erexart/hopeless-romantic/xo5ostiaq3s4 on tumblr.

Prompt: Ghost

Characters: Wilford, Dark (Celine)

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22, 23, 24, 25, 26, 27, 28, 29, 30, 31

He’d been having a bad week. Was it a week? A year? Ten years? He could never be completely sure. Time was shaky at best, and nonexistence at the most fun.

But Wil was tired of being pulled around, and he was a bit angry. His brain was buzzing with the dozens of altercations he’d had in the past. Ones that obviously didn’t end in death because death was a lie. If it wasn’t, then he would have actually killed people, and he would never.

Life was all a joke. And he was tired of this particular joke. He was looking for something, for someone, and he was frustrated by not finding it. Like chasing ghosts, unable to see them but haunted all the same. Their screams drove him mad more often than not.

“Freeze!” Someone shouted and Wilford was already pulling his gun out and shot.

The man dropped and started sleeping, because of course he was sleeping. What else was he doing?

“Wil!”

Wilford’s gun came up and he was pointing it at what looked to be a woman. Short hair. Dark eyes. Stern face.

And his itchy trigger finger locked up before he could fire. Before his eyes the face in front of him changed to a familiar one. A hauntingly familiar one.

A ghost from his past, but he couldn’t remember it and Wilford thought that was a tragedy.

“How’s it been?”

“Awful, he’s not the worst but he’s not helping.”

“I’m offended to call him my brother then, you deserve better.”

As Wilford stared at Dark, looking like her red soul, her aura shrill and angry at the destruction to her own territory. “Wil, if you needed to get back to the Manor you could have used a portal. You just left Bim at the station.”

Dark got closer as the gun came down, almost a reaction to her approach.

And then Wilford’s other hand came up and he gently took Dark’s hand in his and kissed the back of it. His gun disappeared in a puff of pink smoke and the crowd of officers and a couple heroes seemed to start calming down but they didn’t approach the two supervillains.

“Charmed, my dear,” Wilford said gently as he held onto her hand, not wanting to let go but not keeping the hand trapped. Then he looked up. More warm brown in his eyes than usual. “My name is Wilford.”

Dark didn’t pull her hand away. She was silent for a bit before trying to smile. “Dark. Nice to meet you too.”

Wilford smiled at Dark, as charming as Dark always thought he was. “Pardon me for being forward or taking up your time, my dear, but there’s this lovely diner I saw on my way into town and I would love to take you out for dinner.”

“Of course,” Dark smiled and kept a grip on his hand. Dark’s ringing was a little less shrill and trying to look more like Celine. “I’d love to.”

Wilford’s eyes began really playing tricks on him, seeing people and things he hadn’t seen for a long time and Wilford just let himself go. He’d long since stop fighting the pull or even try to make sense of it.

Then Wilford and “Celine” were at a diner. The same one that Dark and Wilford always went to. The atmosphere was as friendly as ever and Dark ordered the same thing she always did as Wilford ordered the first thing that looked nice to him paired with a fruity cocktail to go with it.

As the waiter took their menus after ordering, Wilford just looked at Dark’s face. “You’re very beautiful. Have we met before?”

“Perhaps,” Dark said and eventually drinks came out, the two of them got to talking and then Dark took Wilford back to the Manor. The next morning Wilford woke up his usual self.

[roseguidedarc]

@unbelovd​ ASKED,  𝒂 𝒌𝒊𝒔𝒔 𝒂𝒇𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒆 𝒉𝒂𝒔 𝒌𝒊𝒍𝒍𝒆𝒅 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓  >  𝒂𝒑𝒓𝒊𝒍 & 𝒘𝒆𝒅𝒏𝒆𝒔𝒅𝒂𝒚 : 𝒆𝒚𝒆𝒔 :

    ����𝐄𝐃𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐃𝐀𝐘 𝐃𝐈𝐃𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐀𝐊𝐄 𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎 𝐏𝐄𝐎𝐏𝐋𝐄 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐎𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐒, especially when it pertained to someone she knew. her human, to be exact.   he’d been told to back off, to go bother someone else, but in true male fashion he didn’t take the hint. he kept pushing, pushing,  &&  pushing until he’d worn the vampires patience thin—an anger rose inside of her chest, it simmered in her blood  &&  made her feel hot even though skin was ice cold.   jaw tightened, fangs behind lips threatening to   𝓫𝓻𝓮𝓪𝓴   skin,  &&  hands balled into fists causing long nail to draw blood on her own palms.    the bar has cleaned out for the night &&  the manage had stepped out . . it was just wednesday, april,  &&  this man who had been bothering them all night.   honed ears pick up one last slightly slurred comment, a derogatory comment about april, that sends her over the edge  !    body quickly, in a blink, grabs the man by the shirt collar in order to thrown him against the bar so hard that glasses fall over && shatter.   he groans, but just long enough for wednesday to grab him once more, but this time she places her hand on the back of his neck, body leaned back as far as it’ll go,  &&  swiftly, with force, slams his hand onto the corner of the bar. blood splatters on the counter, on the floor,  &&  even on the reflective mirrors   𝙱𝙴𝙷𝙸𝙽𝙳   the bar.  ❝  fucker !  ❞  she hisses before making her way back to april. a kiss is placed on woman’s lips, hand protectively on waist, before she moving them toward the door.  ❝  let’s go home. ❞

[dedfeesh]

Soooo I was just talking w friend abt casual murder (yknow how it is in these parts) and we were discussing being stuffed in a freezer

what type of stuff we wanted said murderer to have in freezer like nuggies, popsicles, etc

AND WOW I WAS LIKE REALIZING “MAN gojo would totally love to throw himself in just to check out if there was any sweets hiding there, cuz if he gonna get kidnapped he might as well just check the murder sweets”

what insane lovely personality he has

[chloesimaginationthings]

Gregory has it best out of the new FNAF protagonists..

[poirott]

Columbo + his basset hound named "Dog"

He doesn't look like a police dog. Well, he isn't. He's a policeman's dog. Believe me, there's a big difference.

COLUMBO (1968 - 2003)

[janecklyn]

They're drinking antifreeze with button batteries :D

[redvelvetwishtree]

Israel is expanding ground operations in Gaza and proudly announcing their murder plans while everyone watches because they have the full support of the US and other powerful governments. God save Palestine because we are literally seeing unimaginable horros unfold with Israel having a complete freehand in anything their vile brains decide to do.

[deadsetobsessions]

Gothic mushroom shaped candles. Danny picked one up, grinning. Sam would have love these on her alters. Very Sam, very Gotham.

It a bit bittersweet, now that he could think of her without being paralyzed by crushing grief. Her and Tucker both. Danny turned, keeping an eye on Tim as he glared into the case of used cameras.

Danny walked over and tried not to feel guilty about practically mooching off of a child. Even if the money he was using was actually the Drakes’.

“Like anything you see?”

Tim shook his head. Danny pondered over what little he knew of photography- all of which he learned from documentaries that were more focused on nature.

“I think there might be a camera store a couple of blocks down. We could get the ones that takes photos of animals, like the really big ones that takes photos of wildlife?”

“I guess. I mean, I don’t need it since we can…” Tim glanced around suspiciously. Danny willed his mouth to not smile at Tim’s antics. “Fly close,” the kid finished in a whisper.

“Okay, but what about when I’m not there?”

Tim hunched up on himself and Danny despaired inwardly. Uh oh, what did he say now?”

“Are you going somewhere?” Tim quietly asked, sounding hurt and upset.

“No,” Danny soothed, patting Tim on the head. I mean, what if I’m busy with stuff but you want to go take pictures without me?”

“You said to go get you whenever I wanna go out to take pictures.”

“Okay, yeah, I- well, we might as well get you a quality camera, right? To take really really good pictures of the… local wildlife. Like… the birds and the bats, and all that.” Danny winked exaggeratedly.

Tim blinked and giggled when he got the joke. “Okay, as long as you’re staying!”

Danny grinned, fangs and all. “Of course.”

——

At the end of their shopping spree, generously provided and sponsored by the Drake family and their heavy black card, Danny got a phone and Tim got a wild life camera that was a whopping $4,000 but was compact enough to not look absolutely ridiculous.

“It’s heavy!” Tim whined, as he grinned like a loon.

“It’s quality,” Danny plopped the shopping bags on the island in one of the giant kitchens Drake manor had. “I’ll make dinner. You figure out those settings and you can tell me about it when we eat.”

“Okay!” Tim hummed excited, quick fingers and laser focus already aimed at his new device.

Danny picked up his new phone and dialed a number he knew by heart. As it rung, Danny held it up to his ear and began prepping the ingredients. At least

“Hello?” His sister’s cautious voice came through the phone. Danny’s shoulders relaxed.

“Heya, Jazz.” He could see Tim’s ears all but perk up in order to eavesdrop. His mouth quirked up in amusement and Danny turned away. He probably shouldn’t be encouraging that kind of behavior… but it was funny.

“Danny! Are you okay? I- I heard that they chased after you and I was worried sick! Are you safe? Any injuries? Do I need to pick you up?”

“I’m good. Promise. Not bleeding out or dying. It’s actually pretty nice right now,” Danny paused before turning back a little more so he could watch Tim’s reaction peripherally. “Hey, listen, can I adopt a little brother?”

He watched Tim sit up straighter eyed flickering up to him and back down again, a secretly pleased look on his face as he figured out that Danny was in fact talking about him.

“Danny, what the hell?” Jazz huffed, audibly relieved to know that Danny wasn’t on his merry way to becoming a full on ghost. “Who, why, and what kind of trouble did you get into now?”

“Hey, this was me getting out of trouble. Those people don’t even know where I escaped to. Tim helped me out a lot,” Danny said in the tone that meant ‘and there’s more to it but I can’t tell you right now.’

“His name’s Tim?”

“Yeah, you wanna say hi?”

Tim looked terrified as he heard Danny’s side of the conversation. Danny could relate.

“Alright. But you’re explaining everything later, got it?”

“Sure thing, boss.”

Danny turned to Tim, abandoning the peas he was shelling and rinsing off his hand to hold the phone.

“Tim, my sister, Jazz, wants to say hi. Are you cool with that?”

“Uhm! Yeah! Yeah, sure.” Tim, honest to ancients, squeaked. Danny’s enhanced hearing could pick up Jazz’s already melting heart. He taped a button.

“Jazz, you’re on speaker.”

“Hey, Tim. I’m Jazz. Thanks for taking care of my little brother!”

“Uh, hi, Jazz! I’m Timothy Drake! And, uh, you’re welcome! Anytime!”

Tim glanced at Danny for reassurance, relaxing a bit when the halfa threw him a double thumbs up.

Jazz went quiet.

“Jazz, you good?” Danny asked.

“We’re adopting him. Danny, you better make sure knows about everyone. Hi, Tim, I’m Jazz, your new big sister.”

“Uh- I have parents.”

“That can be fixed,” Jazz casually brushed off. Tim looked like a deer in headlights, so Danny took his sister off speaker and went back to cooking. He made sure to smile at Tim.

“Don’t worry, we won’t adopt you if you don’t want to. But it wasn’t a joke, we’re very serious.”

“I’ll think about it?”

Danny shrugged. “Good enough for me.”

“So, where are you?” Jazz asked him, rustling coming through on the phone.

“Gotham.”

“You are so fucking lucky I love you, dumbass. I’ll be there tomorrow at noon.”

“Playing hooky, are you?”

“Fuck off, little brother, before I show Tim your toddler pictures.”

“Thanks, Jazz.”

“Bye, Danny. Don’t get killed again when I’m not there, got it?”

“Sure, sure.”

Danny smiled and returned to his agenda of stuffing as many vegetables into one meal as he can. At least the food isn’t trying to tear out his face.

——

Robin hasn’t heard the eerie giggles around lately, but he’s been practicing his own. It’s weird though, because there’s always a glint of something in the corner of his eyes.

“Robin, muggers.”

“On it, B. Shall we, Batgirl?”

“Let’s go, Boy Wonder.”

[comradekatara]

no because it actually is so funny how sokka is unrealistically smart like just. inhumanly intelligent so they had to counteract that by nerfing him in one million different ways. no he can’t bend no his sister never listens to him no he isn’t charismatic or convincing yes he has one million different mental illnesses. every single mental illness known to man, in fact. and that somehow balances out the fact that he is a genius the likes of which the world may see like. once in a century. because does it even matter if he just keeps taking L after L and is so fucking miserable and constantly self-sabotages due to being too insane and neurotic to even function half the time and his highest aspiration in life is literally to be murdered. no, seriously, does it??? incidentally, this it is also the central tension of a little show called . “malcolm in the mildle.”

[jay-wasstuff]

[arkashas]

We talked a lot about how to style Margot in that, uh, she as a victim of terrible terrible abuse would probably have some sort of armor like aesthetic to her wardrobe. So high collars, sharp shoulders [to show] that she is a in perpetual state of defense. - Su-zakana audio commentary

+ bonus:

Margot wearing loose, revealing clothes around Alana.

[ego-meliorem-esse]

My late contribution to the beautiful bride and ugly groom trend

It pained me to make François the beautiful bride but by god and all his angels The Rat is just not it

[dysfunctional-heterosexual]

Does anyone ever want to kill someone, but in a non-violent way? Just casually run someone through with a beautiful sword while standing there? You know, like kill them without the struggle and the fighting.