#oh someone’s committed a heinous crime? of course it’s gonna be a man

[doehoney]

Criminal Minds is so real for their “the unsub is a man until proven otherwise” mentality

[tb-gerschutz]

Chapter Fifteen

Word Count: 4,661

Trigger Warning(s): cursing, heated confrontations, mentions of a weapon (specifically a g*n), graphic depictions of violence, etc.

Summary: Whiskey and Veronica go undercover at a casino...

******

I have no idea how I made it this far in the war against Balor. Considering his genocidal tendencies and his eerie intelligence, I am utterly shocked that he hasn’t caught me and Whiskey yet. From what I could tell in my few clashes with him, Balor is a man of notorious renown. He’s known to wipe out anything and anyone in his path just to get what he wants, even if it means leaving ash and flames in his wake to do so. 

And he’s almost definitely the epitome of all that is evil and even more evil. 

There is absolutely no ounce of good that lies within Balor’s soul. In fact, there has never been any ounce of good in Balor’s soul. Such a monster like Balor Devlin doesn’t deserve to have the slightest ounce of good in his heart, let alone have the slightest shred of opportunity to redeem himself. He’s committed so many heinous crimes that he almost guarantees himself to several death penalties, or—at the kindest and very least—one death penalty. 

I had promised myself a long time ago that I was going to be the one to personally escort Balor to the deepest and darkest Hell known to man. And to this day…I fully intend on keeping that promise. 

The dark shadows slowly overtook the outside world, as the day turned into the evening. With each passing moment, my anticipation for me and Whiskey’s casino date rose immensely. Sure, it wasn’t your typical date night. No…it was a date night filled with work. The work we need to do for our jobs. 

I was in the bathroom, dolling myself up for the casino date. Whiskey, meanwhile, was by the bed, suiting up in a black tux. We wanted to look like a million bucks while our presence graced the casino. 

“So what exactly are you doing at the casino?” I asked out loud toward Whiskey, as I put in one earring in my right ear. 

“Well, sugar, some of Balor’s goons are gonna be there,” he answered aloud. “We gotta scope out information from them. Information about Balor and where the hell he’s at.”

I had put the other earring in my left ear and walked out of the bathroom to meet Whiskey, putting a couple rings on my fingers while doing so. Once I had come into Whiskey’s view, he immediately froze in his tracks. His jaw had dropped, and his eyes were glossed over with shock and amazement. I took that time to show off what I was wearing, and my God! Whiskey did amazing at picking out my outfit.

It was a black, strapless A-line gown with a slit on the skirt’s left side. Sparkly embellishments had randomly adorned the skirt part of the gown and part of the bodice. Overall, it was absolutely beautiful, and Whiskey did a damn good job of picking it out for me. 

“Hot damn!” he exclaimed. 

I smiled. Whiskey’s comments like that absolutely make my day. No doubt about it. “Like what you see, I assume?” I asked. 

“Of course I do,” he answered, biting his bottom lip. “I love every little thing about ya. Even the parts that you may not think you love…I love immensely.”

I relished that comment for a brief time. It made me feel as though someone out there loved me no matter what. And it makes me feel even more better that Whiskey, my guardian angel, is that person who loves me no matter what happens in life. Even if I’m completely off my rocker, Whiskey will still love me to no end. 

“I have to say, Whiskey. You did a damn good job at picking out my outfit,” I remarked. 

One of his eyebrows hooked upward after he hooked on his watch. “Really?”

“Oh yeah,” I responded. “Not only did you know that black is my favorite color, but it also fits me perfectly. I absolutely love it!” I paused to continue admiring myself in the gown. “Plus, I look hot in this! I mean, look at the color. Look at the slit here! Look at how the color pops against my skin! Oh my God!”

A corner of Whiskey’s mouth hooked upward, which showed all the wicked thoughts that circulated through his head. “And I can’t wait to rip it off ya later,” he sneered with dark mischief. 

A hoarse cough escaped from my lungs suddenly. Whiskey’s risque comment definitely caught me off-guard, and I definitely let that show in my reaction. 

“Damn you, Whiskey,” I said with a chuckle. “Damn you!”

After I grabbed my sparkling black clutch, I took Whiskey’s arm and walked proudly out the door with him, unaware of what might happen at the casino tonight.

* * * * * *

It was clear that our arrival had caught the attention of the others at the casino. Maybe it was because of the way we looked like a million bucks. Maybe it was the fact that they had never seen us before. 

“Remember, sugar,” Whiskey whispered quietly and sternly into my ear. “We’re here to scope out information from Balor’s goons. Specifically, information about where the hell Balor is. All we have to do is keep our cover, and everything should be fine.”

“That doesn’t sound very confident to me,” I whispered in the same tone. 

He continued to have a very tight grasp on my wrist. “Yeah. Well, we don’t know if shit will hit the fan or not. Just be prepared for that because it might happen.”

“Oh, I’m already prepared,” I responded. “I got one of my glocks underneath my gown just in case all hell breaks loose.”

“That’s my good girl,” he added in a low snarl. 

I started to scour the casino floor for Balor’s goons. “Where the hell are those jackasses? They gotta be here somewhere.”

“But the casino is extra busy tonight,” Whiskey answered, “which means it’s gonna be a bitch to find those morons.”

“You know what?” I added. “Let’s go to the blackjack table. I’m feelin’ extra lucky.”

“Can I at least escort you over there?” he asked, offering out his arm. 

I smiled, unsurprisingly taking his arm willingly. “You know I ain’t ever gonna deny that.”

As Whiskey and I walked over to the blackjack table, I caught a glance of the people who sat at the blackjack table. There weren't many people there—only three. Three young men. One of them, who sat on the far end of the table, looked oddly familiar. As soon as his piercing blue eyes locked with mine, my heart started to race rapidly. But I didn’t let that feeling become evident to the others. 

Like Whiskey said, we had to keep our cover.

The other two, with jet-black hair and eyes as black as Balor’s tainted heart, were definitely Balor’s goons. I knew that almost immediately. They looked like the products of Balor, having been brainwashed to be his puppets and carry out Balor’s order quickly and without hesitation. It’s such a shame that they succumbed to such brainwashing from Balor, but I can’t change the past. 

My focus now is on taking down Balor…and it starts here. 

Whiskey and I took our seats on the opposite end of the first man. The familiar man. I could tell already that tensions were starting to heat up, even in the midst of the silence between all of us. Deep down, I knew hell was gonna break loose. It was now just a matter of when it’ll break out. 

“You know, if you wanna spectate,” the familiar young man on the opposite end started, “you can’t say anything to your partner there.”

“Oh no! I’m playin’,” I responded with a half smirk. “However, I do appreciate your courtesy.”

Not breaking off his spine-chilling stare, the familiar man chuckled as if he couldn’t believe a lady could play blackjack. “A seemingly refined lady like yourself can’t play blackjack,” he said. 

“Well, Momma didn’t raise no passive bitch,” I answered fiercely. “So—here I am.”

The other men, including the familiar one, shrugged. They had already accepted the face that they were going up against a lady in this game. Their money was on the line. 

“I’ll bet three-thousand,” the first of Balor’s goons said, pushing his chips forward. 

The second pushed some of his chips forward. “Three-thousand for me, as well.”

The man who sat on the opposite end of me looked up at me, and I didn’t break my glance with him. In fact, I refused to break it. I can’t let him know that I break down at the slightest struggle for power. 

“I’ll go for six-thousand,” the familiar man said, pushing his chips to the center. 

Damn, I thought. How much money do these morons have? It was astounding to find out how much these jackasses were betting. It made me think about how much money they were receiving. Or, if we’re thinking logically—how much they were stealing or funneling into their accounts illegally. Knowing that these morons most likely know each other, it wouldn’t be a surprise if they all funneled money into their accounts illegally and wasted it on stupid shit like gambling. 

I know, I know. I shouldn’t be gambling, but I’m confident that I can destroy these dipshits in this casino game. A game that, even though I haven’t played before, I’m confident I can win at solely because of my codename. And no, Whiskey wasn’t playing. He was just there to scope out information and spectate. 

Go big or go home, I thought. 

That’s when I pushed all my chips into the center. “All in.”

Whiskey’s head whipped around, his eyes widened with absolute shock. I could tell that he was thinking I was completely off my rocker when I laid my bet down. The jackasses I was about to play against, however, seemed more shocked than I’d thought they’d be. At least, their expressions were much different than what I’d previously thought. 

Their eyes were wide with disbelief, but their demeanors did not shift out of the vindictive shadows they permanently lived in. After letting the twist develop in their minds, all of the men shrugged, accepting the fact that they have the opportunity to get a shit load of money. 

Little did they know that they ain’t taking that money. I won’t let that happen.

Of course, the familiar man started the round after the dealer shuffled all the cards and dealt them out to all of us. 

“Hit me,” he kept saying sternly repeatedly. The dealer then laid down an eight-of-spades, which made the familiar man think long and hard about his decision. “Stay,” he finally said, thinking no one could beat him. 

To no avail, the other two goons couldn’t beat him. The first one, who sat closest to the familiar man, had to stop at a total of seventeen in order to prevent him from busting. The second goon, who sat closer to me, wasn’t so lucky. He ended up busting at a total of twenty-four by getting a seven-of-diamonds added to a total of seventeen. 

“Hope you’re ready,” the familiar man sneered from across the table. 

One corner of my mouth hooked upward mischievously. “Bring it,” I said in a low tone. 

I already had a two-of-hearts and a three-of-clubs in my hand. It made me feel even more lucky to challenge the dealer and eventually get a payout bigger than the rest of the jackasses playing against me. 

“Hit me,” I said constantly until the dealer dealt me a five-of-spades. With my total now being at fourteen, I had a decision to make. Do I take a risk and go for it, meaning that I might lose all my bets to some jackass sitting across from me? Or do I stay and take this ordeal to another round, which also means that I might lose my bets to the jackass sitting across from me?

It was such a risk either way. 

I inhaled sharply, preparing to take a risk either way. “Hit me,” I said sternly yet in a low tone.

Once again, Whiskey’s head whipped around to me in complete shock. He couldn’t believe that I made such a decision. If he didn’t think I was crazy then, he definitely thought I was crazy now. 

Then, the dealer laid down a seven-of-clubs, which shocked all of us playing. But Whiskey—who was only spectating—and I were the most shocked. 

“Holy shit!” he exclaimed. 

“How the hell did that happen?” I asked in disbelief. 

The familiar man’s brows furrowed as he became overwhelmed with rage. Slow-burning, actually frightening rage. Sure, it frightened me, but I didn’t let it break me. I had to keep my strong, unbreakable poker face. 

“No way!” the goons and the familiar man exclaimed.

“We have to go another round,” the familiar man added. “There’s no way you’re that lucky. One more round, and whoever gets the better number gets everything.”

I chuckled, not breaking my stare with the familiar man. His ice-blue, piercing eyes are eyes I’ve seen before, and it’s a set of eyes that was many times before. In fact, if I recall with a sane mind, he was there whenever Whiskey and I had to bolt from certain places because Balor and his men had found us. It made me wonder: It had to be pure coincidence that this familiar man was there. It had to be!

“Alright then. I’ll take a bite,” I said smoothly, pushing all of my chips forward confidently. “All or nothin’ for all of us.”

“Whoever wins gets all of the money?” one of the goons suggested. 

The familiar man shrugged his shoulders and seemed to take a liking to the idea. “Then, whoever wins is gonna have a hell of a payout, then.”

I ran my tongue along the insides of my cheeks, thinking about the possible risk I might be diving head-first into. I could lose a shitload of money just by pure luck, which is extremely risky in itself. But then, I thought:

Wouldn’t it be fucking hilarious if I was the one who got the colossus payout?

I mean, I really don’t need the money. But I want it just to piss these other guys off. It would be fucking hilarious to see all of their reactions. God, I’m such an asshole!

“Fuck it,” I said. “Let’s do this. Y’all are goin’ down!”

“Don’t get too cocky now,” the familiar man said. “You may have won the first round, but that could’ve been pure baby luck. I have the confidence that this time, it won’t play out that way.”

I chuckled lightly. “You’re so full of bullshit that it ain’t funny.”

The dealer started to deal out the cards one by one, the cards perfectly laid out in front of all of us. I kept my exceptionally strong poker face as I watched each of my competitors keep betting the dealer. As the anticipation toward my turn grew closer and closer, my heart started to beat incessantly and so audibly that I could’ve sworn that Whiskey heard it clearly. 

But I didn’t let it affect me. 

I couldn’t show any signs of weakness in front of these jackasses. They’d eat me alive if they saw that I had a weak spot. Then again, they may or may not recognize me and Whiskey from all our previous clashes. But they might use all the tricks in the book to get me to break down. Well, that ain’t gonna happen! I’ll do everything I can just to make sure I can piss these guys off. 

“Well, young lady. I’d say that you’re almost completely fucked,” the familiar man said cockily. “I have twenty, and those two have eighteen and seventeen respectively. You’re almost out of luck.”

I shrugged. “Oh, I ain’t shit outta luck yet. You never know what could happen.”

The dealer started me with a two-of-hearts and a three-of-spades, which was a relatively low total to start out with. I felt confident enough to agree to being dealt cards, but only twice though. A five-of-diamonds, a two-of-clubs…those were my new ones. Now, I had a choice to make. With a total of twelve, should I go for it? Or should I not?

“Who knows?” the familiar man sneered. “Maybe the next card is a queen.”

I bit the inside of my cheek. “I highly doubt, dumbass.”

“Don’t get too cocky now,” he said. “You don’t want to lose a chance at that payout, now do you?”

“Oh, go shove a dick in your mouth to keep it shut, why don’t ya?” I mumbled under my breath. 

Apparently, my mumbles were loud enough for Whiskey to hear because he subtly elbowed me, letting me know that he wasn’t exactly pleased with my words. “Veronica Paige,” he sternly whispered in my ear.

“What? The bitch deserved it,” I said, trying to justify my response. 

“Just refocus on the game,” Whiskey whispered. 

Doing what Whiskey said, I refused my attention back on the game by looking at the cards I already have. And knowing how risky casino games are, there’s definitely a big chance I could lose my chance at the payout. A big chance to fuck everything up. I can’t let that pressure, no matter how unbearable it may be, get to me. Not when so much is on the line. 

Just like in here and this ongoing war against Balor. 

If I bow down to that pressure, the whole world—along with me and Whiskey—are completely fucked. We’d be more fucked than a slow-ass snail trying to escape the blast of one of J. Robert Oppenheimer’s bombs. It ain’t gonna end well if I bow down to the overwhelming pressure. That would spell certain doom on a widespread scale. 

“Hit me,” I said coolly as I exhaled a sharp, icy breath. 

As the dealer reached for the next card, the anticipation in my body skyrocketed to a new high. My heart rate sped up significantly and was running faster than an extremely energized toddler given even the slightest ounce of sugar. All of my money was on the line, and my chance at getting everyone else’s bets was slowly slipping away with each passing moment. But I didn’t let this get the best of me. To the very best of my ability, I forced myself to keep the ice-cold poker face strong. I had to show my opponents that I wasn’t going to back down without a fight. Just like with my fight against Balor, I wasn’t about to back down at the slightest push-back. 

I was determined to fight. 

The dealer then showed me the last card, which happened to be a…

Nine of clubs!

“What the hell?” the goons and the familiar man asked in disbelief. 

“Holy shit!” Whiskey and I exclaimed as we both sprang out of our seats. We couldn’t believe that I had this outcome. 

The goons who sat closer to me seemed angry at first, and it disappeared rather quickly after they realized that they’ll just get paid an abundant amount continuously. But the familiar man—the man who I could’ve sworn I’ve seen before—was especially pissed. And I mean, beyond pissed. 

How could I tell that he was pissed? 

Well, his face started to turn a bright red, which was brighter than a stop light. And his brows furrowed with a twist of anger. I know the look of anger all too well, and with the familiar man looking like he was about to throw hands, I knew that Whiskey and I were about to dive into a fight. 

“That isn’t fair!” the familiar man exclaimed sternly. “There’s no way that you could’ve won two times in a row.”

I shrugged. “Why do you say that? Has your baby luck run out too soon?”

“You definitely manipulated the cards,” he said. “You cheated!”

“Just like you cheated on many of the girls you’ve fucked?” I asked in a mumbled breath.

Poor Whiskey—poor, poor Whiskey—burst out laughing, mainly because my response was so unexpected and brutal. Of course, I felt proud of that, mainly because I successfully made Whiskey laugh and even pissed someone off. Then again, I don’t think it took much to piss off the familiar man. 

Speaking of which, I’ve seen him before. I swear!

His grayish-ice blue eyes were especially piercing, considering he was extremely pissed off. It was like there was a burning flame behind those soulless eyes. I’ve seen that before—an enraged fire attempting to burn through the ice-cold, piercing eyes of a complete monster. I’ve seen it with Balor. 

Then again, this man I’m facing right now is different from Balor. 

From what I could assume, this man’s Polish—or at least from Polish descent. People from Poland are usually similar to the Russians in regards to their intimidating looks. If there was a ranking to which ethnic group looked the most mean and intimidating, anyone from Poland would rank number two. Only the Russians ranked higher than them.

This man was no different. He was definitely intimidating, but not too intimidating for me. I’ll gladly throw hands with him if he tries to strike first. But I know damn well that I’m not going to engage him unless he takes the first swing. 

It’s like what my daddy taught me when he was teaching me and my twin how to fight:

Never take the first swing unless they instigate the fight. If they take the first swing, you have all the permission in the world to fight back. I don’t care who you get in trouble with, because it’s bound to happen. But you’ll know that you did the right thing by fighting back and standing up for yourself. Those motherfuckers will know that you have a backbone and shouldn’t be messed with again. 

And before y’all ask—yes! I definitely use that piece of Daddy’s advice throughout my war with Balor. I have that pressure to show Balor that I do, in fact, have a backbone. I am that kind of person that is bull-headed. Bull-headed enough to not back down in a tough fight. Even when almost all the world is against me, I have that added pressure to show that I’m not willing to back down. 

That’s all thanks to the advice my daddy would give me. 

I wouldn’t be who I am today without his advice. 

“You definitely cheated!” the familiar man exclaimed. “You did it just to get all our bets to yourself!”

I scoffed. “I call bullshit on that. There’s no way I could’ve manipulated the cards to my advantage. Y’all were here before me and my partner were.”

“Oh yeah. You and that worthless piece of shit,” the familiar man insulted. 

Before Whiskey could become angry enough to grow a desire to take the first swing, my anger had risen to the surface quicker than I had imagined. My daddy always said:

If someone insults your family or someone close that you love, it’s an attack on you. If that ever happens, you have an undeniable God-given right to stand up for them and for yourself. Show those morons that you have a backbone and aren’t willing to put up with their bullshit any longer. 

Now, I had the right to stand up for Whiskey, the man I truly love with all my heart. 

“What did you just call my partner?” I asked sternly. 

A wicked smile appeared across the familiar man’s face. “That your partner is a worthless piece of shit. Why do you ask? Are you gonna do something about it? Because I can guarantee you that you won’t. You’re too much of a pussy to stand up for your partner and for yourself.”

I rose from the table and swiftly made my way toward the familiar man, coming within inches of his face. I was more than ready to take a swing if it meant sending a message. The message that I wasn’t going to put up with his bullshit any longer. 

“Wanna bet?” I goaded, looking straight into this man’s piercing eyes. 

By this point, the man was laughing, making me believe whole-heartedly that he was the same man who was there whenever Whiskey and I would have to flee. Was this man really there in all the times Whiskey and I had to flee? I was starting to think that he was indeed. 

“I’ll bet everything I have,” the man sneered, “because you can’t take me out. I’ll just keep getting back up with every one of your hits.”

“Oh. I’ll knock you out with one punch,” I said boldly and confidently, getting so close to the man’s face that I was practically breathing down his esophagus. “And that isn’t a threat. It’s a guarantee.”

For what seemed like eternity, me and this man were staring each other down, with the two of us refusing to back down. He was trained to not let anyone beneath him take away his control, while I was raised to fight for what I want through any means necessary. I’m bull-headed like that…and there ain’t any stupid jackass that’s gonna stop me from being this way. I’m still gonna keep to my daddy’s advice and stand up for myself and those I love. Nothing’s gonna change that, and this man—this stupid, stupid man—isn’t gonna force me to do anything other than that. 

Momma didn’t raise no pussy of a bitch. 

“I doubt,” the man sneered. “You can’t fight your way out of this one. Just like you can’t fight your way out of Balor’s grasp. And just like you can’t fight your way out of the feelings your partner has for you.”

I shrugged. “Wow. That’s the smartest thing you’ve said so far. Wanna a gold star for all the bullshit you spew out of your mouth?”

I knew damn well that I was instigating that fight, but I didn’t care. There was no way in hell that I would put up with this man’s bullshit any longer. He fucking deserves to have his teeth knocked out, and I have that opportunity right now. Had I lost control several minutes ago when all this shit started, then this jackass would’ve been knocked out cold by now. 

While Whiskey was on his way to try and hold me back, the man tried to take a swing on me, but he missed wildly. I had luckily dodged it just in the nick of time before it landed on my face and gave me a black eye. Now, I had justification for taking a swing. 

Don’t make the first swing. Only take one if the other guy swings first, my daddy’s advice echoed through my head. 

This jackass was squaring up to try and protect himself, but he didn’t do it very well. Why? Because I landed a punch squarely on his jaw, and the shock of it knocked the man out. Cold. And I didn’t even shake my fist afterward. 

Whiskey had finally intervened to try and pull me back, and he was especially gentle with it. He was careful not to vehemently pull me back. Rather, he gently guided me away from the jackass’s unconscious body.

“I still don’t know how your hand ain’t broken from that hit,” he said in disbelief.

I smiled, shrugging it off rather easily. “I’m a Crawford kid. We have iron fists made for fightin’.”

“You do that. I’ll be a gun-slingin’ cowboy,” Whiskey said as we headed back to our suite. 

I shrugged. “Hey. I’ll gladly save the horse and ride a cowboy.”

Once again, the familiar wicked smile of Whiskey’s appeared across his face. “Hey! Thanks for the friendly reminder,” he sneered with a sort of mischievous tone. 

And with that, Whiskey swept me off my feet, carrying me in his hugely muscular arms back to our room. Yes, he did carry me through the duration of the elevator ride up to our suite. Once we arrived there, Whiskey carried me over the threshold to our suite and slammed the door behind us. We only know what happened next…

[ziracona]

Hello! I have always believed that Michael needed better doctors and good treatment. He was simply billed as "Evil". Sometimes I think that at that time they were unaware or ignorant of mental illness, and that is why Michael did not recover. I wish it had been treated better. I would like to know your opinion about it ;v;

Oh, absolutely. Michael is a very tragic character, and what happened to him was almost entirely Loomis’ fault, secondarily the system and his parents’, and like onyl 0.8% his own. It’s true that mental health aid has historically been really bad in most places, and even today treatment and acceptance—even in specifically medical settings—tend to be abysmal. Of course people knew less than they do now about how psychological stuff works, but bias, cruelty, and superstition as well as a system that enables and even to degrees outright encourages that is to blame for the awful treatment people woth mental illnesses and personality disorders faced and continue to face, not just a lack of knowledge, and the history is really heavy and awful to look over. : ( It’s horrific some of the things doctors have done and do to people just trying to get help.

Like, in Michael’s case, we’ve had a name and understanding of psychosis since the 1800s. Canonically, by the time the poor kid was six years old, he was hearing voices telling him to do bad things to people. He told his parents, seeking help, and they did nothing to help him—just told him it was his imagination—despite knowing hos grandfather had suffered the same symptoms. If they had only taken him seriously and given him therapy and possibly medication too, Judith never would have died. (I am not goong to say it every time, but all this information is official canon) Michael’s reason for killing his family members is wanting the vocies talking to him to be quiet, because it’s agonizing. If you’ve ever had intrusive thoughts (stuff like “pull into oncoming traffic” or “break that and see what happens” and such that don’t actually compell or force you to do it at all, and are always things you as a person deeply do not want to do, but nevertheless are really annoying or distressing to hear in your head), imagine that cranked up to 1000, endless and constant, but from voices that seem to come from around you instead of in your head. Especially as a young child, with no understanding what is happening to you, this would be incredibly scary and distressing—doubly so when dismissed by your parents, whose sole job is supposed to be to love and protect you.

The voices say they’ll be quiet if Michael kills Judith, so Halloween night, he does. Important to note here Michael is recently six years old at the time, which developmental psych literally is not old enough to have a complete understanding what death itself is, let alone complex morality. You /cannot/ be evil at six, you simply don’t have a complex enough understanding of right and wrong or of consequence to /be/ evil. Also at this age, usually kids see death as a vague concept, but one that applies to people they don’t know only, not to them and their loved ones. In Halloween 1978, immediately after stabbing Judith, Michael looks away while he keeps doing it, and his breathing speeds up in a scared way. He barely looks at the body, and immediately goes down stairs to wait for his parents—probably for them to fix it—and does nothing to flee or hide what he’s done. He looks traumatized when they take his mask off. (Lots of little notes here like that Judith when she sees him seems annoyed but not very, and when he attacks her, tries to shield herself and call to him to stop, rather than fleeing or fighting back, which [appealing instead of fight or flight] is pretty exclusively something you only would use if attcked by someone you are on good terms with—I mean, Michael is six—if Judith had /tried/ to fight back, no way she would have died—so there’s less than nothing to indicate they had anything but a loving familial sibling relationship. But if I list all these I’m gonna launch into my six page Michael Myers meta so I will speed through the rest.)

Anyway! Sorry, I have many feelings. About...everything. Including Michael for sure. So, immediately after killing Judith, Michael stops talking. He also shows other psychosis and trauma readily recognized side effects, like catatonia, slowed movement. In Halloween 1978c Dr. Loomis claims he tried to treat Michael for eight years, then spent another seven trying to keep him locked up because he realized he was evil. This is a /blatant/ lie, as in film canon Loomis, by Michael’s review hearing I believe four months in? Six or less for sure, I believe it is four. Loomis has /already/ become convinced Michael is a demon in human form, faking his symptoms, and itching to kill again. The other doctors think Loomis is crazy, as does the other doctor who examines Michael, but they’re awful people so they let him stay Michael’s doctor anyway, even though they refuse to move him to Litchfield maximum security. By this time only a few months in, Loomis is canonically also threatening the six year old in his care and constantly telling him he is an evil being who wants to get out and terrorize again. (Also, I will die enraged the sentance Michael gets for killing Judith is to remain locked in solitary in a sanitorium for /15/ years, until he turns 21, at which point he will be tried as an adult for murder??? The fuck?? You CANNOT charge a 6 year old’s crime in adult court! ‘Tried as an adult’ is meant for like, when a 17 year old dismembers their family and eats them! It’s for particularly heinous crimes, committed by someone /very/ close to being legally an adult, and that /only/. The idea of waiting fifteen years to try someone as an adult for something done at age six is laughable and sick).

Okay this is already long, I get carried away rip. Uhhh, anyway, yeah. In Smith’s Grove, Michael is visited by mom and Laurie once, then never sees any of his family again, because his dad hates him and forbids the others—finds out because Laurie is four and talks that they went /one/ time, and physically beats four year old Laurie for mentioning his name until she trauma blocks out ever having had a brother. From then on, Michael spends /fifteen/ years and all the dest of his developmental stages of childhood in a sanitorium with Dr. Loomis—a man who on wild religious superstition grounds assumes by his own admission /on sight/ that Michael is evil, and no other human contact. According to canon, Michael spends at least four hours of /every/ day with Loomis, his /only/ human contact, who threatens him, promises to stop him, and endlessly barrages him with “You’re evil, you’re not human, you want to kill again, I /will/ stop you,” and nothing else. He also canonically keeps Michael overdosed on a type of antipsychotic that, while a fine drug if used normally, if overdosed can deeply worsen symptoms, and can cause permanent brain damage.

Honestly, if a six year old is exposed yo major trauma, none of their issues are explained, legitimized, or believed, and almost all of their developmental stage is spent with endless voices they don’t know the cause of suggesting murder and violence, one human being and authority figure telling them over and over and over for fifteen years with no other constant in their life or human contact period that they are a demon in human form who wants to kill and is /going/ to do so again...? How else was that story ever going to end? I’ve said it before, but that’s beyond conditioning; it’s lab growing a human child to one day walk out and murder Laurie Strode with a large kitchen knife.

I stand by Halloween is a greek tragedy more than a slasher, and Michael and Laurie are both victims. He’s the Asterios, she’s the Ariadne. Loomis the Minos, the real villain. (Or the Poseidon choose your poison).

Anyway, I 100% agree! If he had just gotten help from his parents, Judith would have never died. If he’d had good doctors, none of the events of 1978 would have come to pass, or anything after it. Loomis single-handedly causes the deaths in 1978 himself through years of cruelty, and bigoted bias towards a small child in his care who needed his help, not his abuse, but he chose to break as much as he possibly could despite his responsibilities as a doctor, an adult, and a human.

If you’re interested, I did a canon-deep-dive character study short story on Michael on AO3! Halloween is such a sad story but it’s fascinating. God, poor Michael and Laurie deserved so much better than they got. It’s a testament to Michael’s character that even after 15 years of Dr. Loomis, he really only kills his intented target(s) in search of quiet from the voices, and anyone who sees him/would be a threat, and not other people. Makes no attempt to kill any of the kids in Halloween 2018, and only kills Bob when he literally opens the door to his hiding spot and Michael is found and Bob becomes a threat to him. In H20, after Michael has had 20 years on his own, you get arguably the least brutal Michael, who intentionally passes on killing the mother and child, and the security guard he walks right past, because they don’t see him and thus he doesn’t /have/ to. Halloween II is less intentionally avoiding, but even then he still does the same multiple times too, like with the old lady making a sandwich, or the scene in the incubator room. Anyway he desevered better fuck Loomis all my homies hate Loomis.

[shaynawrites23]

Soulmate

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x reader

Moodboard is by the wonderful @heloisedaphnebrightmore, go check out her fics as well! They’re every bit as beautiful as her moodboards 😉 And like an idiot, I forgot about the asks I sent 😂 so the header that I’m still in awe of is by @pcseidcnsvoid!

Word count: 1225

Prompt: Soulmate AU

Written for @marvelouslytrekking’s writing challenge!

Bucky Barnes had never despised his soulmate mark as much as he did now. He examined his right hand, turning it round and round. The palm, his whole palm was pitch black. Before the war, before the fall, it didn't bother him.

Now the sight terrified him. For all he knew the reason his palm was black was because he would strike her, either by accident, or after a nightmare, or perhaps sometime when he was not entirely himself.

For that very reason, Bucky avoided meeting new people if he could help it. After all the heinous crimes he committed under Hydra's command, he couldn't bear the thought of harming the one person he was supposed to love- and who was supposed to love him unconditionally- with his own hand. If he had to live through that, he was sure it would kill him.

"Buck? We've got a new recruit, you coming?" Steve's head poked around the corner and Bucky felt a sudden urge to throw a pillow at his stupid, cheerful face.

"No."

The blond heaved a sigh, disappearing from his view and for a moment, Bucky actually thought he might've given up. Of course not. He should have known, Steve never gave up that easily.

"Buck, it's not good for you too stay holed up in this tower, barely seeing other people. Bruce was watching this documentary the other day discussing humans' social needs, and I caught some of it. It was quite interesting. Apparently we are social creatures, and we need contact with others in order to be health.... Buck?"

The man in question had tuned out Steve's speech, instead engrossed in a book. Or at the very least, pretending to be.

"I know you're not actually reading that book."

"And how do you know that, Steve?" Bucky's expression could easily be compared to that of a parent peppered with incessant questions from a toddler.

"If you were, you would know it's titled How to Meet Your Soulmate."

Steve burst into laughter as the brunet instantly dropped the book like he would a hot coal. He then found himself on the receiving end of the infamous Winter Soldier glare, but it didn't stop him.

"Fine, I'll go to your stupid meeting. Punk."

                                            ~

He could hear the laughter in the common room before he even stepped out of the elevator. Steve, oblivious to his friend's inner turmoil, led the way into the group of Avengers circled around someone like pack animals do to protect their young.

The new recruit was a woman. Of course.

His eyes met hers and she smiled, extending her hand for him to shake.

"Hi! I'm (Y/N)!"

"Bucky."

When he made no move to take her hand, she put it back down, seemingly unbothered by his brusqueness.

"Hey, Tin Man, be nice to (Y/N), alright? She's gonna be your buddy on missions, what with you both being snipers and all." Tony slung an arm around her shoulders and she playfully shoved him off.

Great. Partners.

                                            ~

Despite Bucky's curt replies whenever she asked him questions or attempted to have a conversation with him, she didn't get bored and give up. On the contrary, she doubled her efforts to befriend him. On top of that, it seemed to be working. Bucky found himself warming up to her, and that terrified him.

                                            ~

You couldn't sleep. You had just returned from a mission, with Bucky as your partner of course, and as usual he hadn't uttered a single word more than he needed to. Funny, if it had been anyone else, you'd have stopped trying to approach them, but you felt a certain pull to him. Like... like you were meant to get closer to him.

Sighing, you slipped on a pair of socks and padded out of your room. Maybe a nice cup of herbal tea would help you drift off. You yawned, stepping into the elevator, thoughts swarming your mind.

Why was Bucky shutting you out? You knew what kind of terrible things he'd been through, and you knew he felt most comfortable with Steve. But why did he seem closer to the rest of the team than to you? Were you making him uncomfortable? Maybe...

Upon entering the kitchen, you quickly shielded your eyes from the bright light. Apparently you weren't the only one who couldn't sleep.

Blinking rapidly, you allowed your eyes to adjust to the brightness, scanning your surroundings for whichever one of your teammates was still up.

Oh.

You spotted a tall figure, his muscular back facing you. What was it with guys and walking around shirtless? You saw a flash of metal, the familiar whirring of the plates in his arm following soon after.

He turned around to face you and you gulped. You never denied how hot he actually was, but ever since you were young you vowed to save yourself for your soulmate.

"Hey, Bucky. Couldn't sleep?"

He shook his head no. You stepped closer to him in order to turn the kettle on and you didn't miss the way he shied away from you. Just slightly. But you noticed.

"Me neither. Somehow I'm never able to sleep after missions, so I always come make myself tea." You stood on the tips of your toes, reaching for your favorite mug. "It helps."

When he didn't reply, you turned to face him in concern. Bucky was leaning against the counter, staring blankly out the window.

"Bucky? Are you okay?"

“Huh? Yeah, fine,” he muttered, shaking himself out of his daze.

“Do I... do I make you uncomfortable?”

“What? No! Is that what you thought?”

You nodded, and he facepalmed.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you feel that way. I just tend to avoid people out of habit.”

“It’s alright. I just wanted to know.” You smiled at him, picking up your mug of tea. “It’s late. I should leave you alone. We can talk in the morning.”

You took a couple of steps in the direction of the elevator only to be stopped by a warm hand wrapping around your arm. It sent tingles through your entire body, like tiny electric shocks, though the sensations were rather pleasant.

Sucking in a breath, you turned back towards him. It was the first time he’d reached out to you, either to touch you or talk to you. Your eyes met his electrifying blue ones, eyes that portrayed the same shock you felt. His flesh hand remained wrapped around your arm and he didn’t seem inclined to let go anytime soon. If anything, his grip on you tightened.

“Oh my god.” You were the first to react, setting your tea aside on the counter and reaching up tentatively to brush a stray lock of hair behind his ear. He didn’t flinch at your touch like you thought he might and you mentally did a little happy dance.

“You’re my soulmate,” you both breathed in unison, the realization finally sinking in.

Bucky released his hold on you, examining his palm in disbelief. The black had given way to an array of colors, shining like the Aurora Borealis. He reached for you, as if asking for a hug and you gladly let him embrace you, your arms wrapping around his waist.

“I’m so, so glad I met you this way,” he murmured into your hair.

“Soulmate.”

Whoo I’m really on a roll here! I hope you enjoyed reading my sudden burst of inspiration!

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Could you please please please! Do Papas/cardiac and ghouls reacting to S/O being nervous to do anything because their trans, or coming out to them? (FTM and MTF)

First post in a long time and it’s not even my work! This is something @solofreakk answered for us FOREVER ago that I never even go around to pressing the 8 buttons to post it. How absolutely lazy can I be. But please enjoy (-kat) 

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

*cracks my knuckles* alright Oingos and Boingos and Those Who Are Neither i’m gonna do my best at this as a trans/nonbinary guy but i definitely don’t speak for everyone’s experiences, so… if you don’t like this i apologize. I want everyone to be supportive of you so if they sound repetitive I’m sorry! And I apologize in advance for not including MTF :( I just feel like trans women and men can have some similar experiences but in the end I don’t think it’s my place to write for them. If there are any trans women out there writing stuff for Ghost i would say Please Shamelessly Shout Yourselves Out In The Replies Ladies.

Papa I: He’s a bit too old for most activities that would reveal you being trans imo. A pride parade is too crazy for him, he doesn’t have the energy to go to the pool or something. If you did he’d just lay there in the sun with a ghoul waiting to open an umbrella when he’s about to start getting too crisp. So if you didn’t go swimming, or take your shirt off, it literally would not raise any questions. He’s not in the water. He might make an offhand comment about how you should enjoy yourself but you could very easily tell him you’d prefer to be sitting with him, and you melting his old man heart like that kills any other question he might’ve even had. If you do end up explaining it to him later, he kindly reminds you there’s nothing wrong with knowing who you are. Encourages you to feel comfortable around him, you shouldn’t feel like you have to hide who you are because of your past. No further questions asked. You can say what you’d like about yourself but he won’t press or get in your business.

Papa II: This man is totally comfortable with nudity. You being opposite is… weird. He’ll ask. Are you insecure? You can say it’s something like that. He’ll be able to tell that you’re kind of dodging the question and he’ll leave it alone. But you’ve piqued his curiosity now. He’s gonna watch you just a little bit closer than he did before. He’ll suggest you guys take a swim, or go to the beach, and when you shoot that down too, he’ll ask. “Is there a reason why?” You can try to make excuses, or be vague, or say a half-truth, but those mismatched eyes see right through you. He probably already knows. When you ask him if he does, he’ll just wrap you in a nice strong Papa II Rare Tender Hug™. “It’s nothing to be ashamed about, you know. It’s okay to decide you’re not what everyone said you were. It’s part of becoming your own person.” Would probably be more bold in asking what your future plans are for yourself. Later on quietly reminds you not to bind for too long, or helps you with shots, or is making sure you’re laid up in luxury if you get top surgery. Supports you even if you’re gnc and don’t bind or don’t plan to transition and would impart his death glare upon anyone who dared to misgender you or treat you poorly.

Papa III: Hope no one shoots me down for saying “Papa III trans man” but *eyes emoji*. He’s gonna recognize your behavior immediately. You sweat at the idea of going to the pool or the beach, you don’t wanna change in front of him, you get nervous if someone calls you pretty instead of handsome. He’ll see you very very discreetly tugging at your binder, or taking deep breaths. And he just knows. And he’s elated. He’s like “OH I AM GONNA MAKE YOU FEEL SO HANDSOME.” Immediately deploys plan “Compliment Anon ‘Til He Dies”. He’s telling you that your hair looks great today, your laugh is so masculine, I love the way your arms look, That shirt is so handsome on you, I’m lucky to have such a wonderful man in my life. Anything it takes to have you know how great you are. If you’re busy melting over the compliments, you might not immediately realize he’s caught on. You’ll probably think he’s just doing his regular Papa III schmoozing. Eventually, it clicks in your head. He’s lauding on you ‘cause he knows. So because he seems so cool with it, you finally work up the nerve to tell him. And he smiles at you and he’s taking his shirt off and whoa whoa WHOA HEY IT’S WORK HOURS MAN- oh. Oh. I see. That’s why. He buttons his shirt back up and pats you on the head and asks if you wanna get top surgery too, and if you say yes he’s literally writing you a check on the spot. He wants you to feel as comfortable in your body as he does in his and if you have any dysphoria woes he is all ears. He’s seriously like ride or die for you bro.

Cardinal Copia/Papa IV: He thinks your nervous behavior is totally normal, only because he is also nervous all the time. So he doesn’t even read into it. He’s totally clueless. You don’t wanna go swimming? Okay, yeah, actually he doesn’t really want to do it either. He’s pale, he’d just get burnt. Let’s stay inside all day in our pajamas. You don’t wanna put your pajamas on in front of him? That is also ok, hell let’s change in different rooms. You don’t even have to explain yourself, he just Gets It™. Eventually if you start wondering why he hasn’t asked about your odd behavior, you’ll just ask him. “Did you notice that I’m kinda… weird, about some stuff?” He’ll say he’s weird about stuff too, why should he pry into your personal business? So you press on and tell him you’re trans. You don’t want anyone else to know, for a myriad of reasons. You might start rambling about it, complaining about stuff, talking about what you want. And he’ll just… listen. Nod sometimes to let you know he’s hearing you, and you can keep going if you want. Finally you’ll end it with an exasperated and maybe slightly embarrassed sigh, but before you can apologize he’s pulling you into a hug. You are free to talk about it as much as you want, especially if you don’t tell anyone else. You’ve got all this stuff weighing on your mind and no one to vent it to, and he’s flattered you finally felt comfortable enough to let him know something so personal. 

Dewdrop: Dare I say it… I headcanon Dewdrop as trans too… He’s much more like me though, feisty and kinda gnc. Like III, he’s gonna catch onto your behavior immediately. He’s not gonna make any moves to let you know that he knows, though. Just quietly be in your corner. Well, as quiet as Dew gets. He’s gonna… violently be in your corner. If he finds out someone misgendered you or committed some related act he considers a heinous crime, they’re losing some teeth. He’ll take a chunk out of them if someone isn’t there to rein him in. Eventually when you confide in him that you’re trans, he’s telling you that’s cool. You ask him why he’s so chill about it and he’s just smirking at you. “What…?” You ask. “Seriously, what? Why- ooohhh…” You’re free to not bind around him because most of the time, he doesn’t. He’s not gonna judge you for anything. Whether you wanna be traditionally masculine or be lax about gender norms, he’s gonna tell you you’re cool as Hell no matter what. Admires your courage in coming out to him and will take your secret to the grave.

Aether: First may I start this off by saying I may or may not have asked Aether, like irl, if he said “trans rights”. To which Aether kindly and genuinely said, “Does [Aether] say “trans rights”? Of course trans rights!” So there you have it Fosters and Peoples. Mr. Quintessential Ghoul himself did indeed say trans rights and I’ve never been happier to have asked someone that. I digress… He’s not gonna focus too much on odd behavior or nerves. It’s not because he’s got his head in the clouds, it’s just because this is a Judgement Free Zone™. If and/or when you come out to him, expect him to say, “Hell yeah, you do what’s right for you!” He’s got your back. If you want help with something, say an outfit or you need a new binder, he’s gonna help you figure it out. If you ask him not to tell anyone else, his lips are sealed. 

Mountain: He is so used to being taller than everyone else so if you’re a short king (like me 5’3 man gang rise up [but not too high]) that does not make him ask any questions. He’s also out of your business when it comes to how you dress, or messing with your shirt, or not wanting to do certain activities, etc. He just… it’s not that he doesn’t care, it’s that he’s chill about everything. So chill in fact that eventually one day you just casually mention it. And he’s like, “Neat, you have lore.” Which is hilarious. He’s probably likely to ask if you’re making sure not to wear your binder for too long. He wants you to take good care of yourself, y’know, you’re really cool and you should treat your body kindly. He’ll ask if anyone else knows and if you tell him you’d rather they not find out immediately, he’s already giving you a thumbs up and making sure any question directed at your gender is immediately shot down.

Swiss: Swiss is too focused on having a good time and being good to everyone who deserves kindness to worry about why or why not you don’t want to go to the pool with them. You’ve got your reasons and that’s enough, although he’ll sorely miss you because he could use the extra help in fending Dew off in the water gun fight that most definitely will end in bloodshed if Aether doesn’t step in. Eventually he’ll convince you to maybe go, but not before you cave and tell him you can’t be seen with your shirt off. He’s smart enough to know what that means. No worries! And you know what? In solidarity he just won’t take his off, either. Will support you regardless of how you choose to present yourself and will sometimes casually gift you a new shirt or something, “because I think you’d look really handsome in it.”

Rain: Tender boy. He literally would not pry or push you to tell him anything you didn’t seem like you wanted to say. If you come out to him, that’s completely on your terms. I think he might eventually have a feeling, but he’s not going to make assumptions about you and will let you tell him when you’re ready, and even if you never do, that’s ok too. When you do tell him, he’s completely supportive and won’t make you feel any less of a man about yourself. Is a bit sad to know that you may struggle with dysphoria and he wants you to know that you’re a wonderful person, inside and out, even if you don’t always see it.

Cirrus: She notices your odd behavior, but she’s polite and chooses not to say anything about it. She doesn’t want to make you feel like she’s judging you or scare you or make you uncomfortable. She probably doesn’t flat out make assumptions about you, but she does think about it occasionally. Eventually when you come out to her, she completely understands. Sings her praises about how nice it is that you trust her enough to tell her something so personal about yourself, and says she’s thankful to have such a great person in her life. Also she’s always been your protective mom friend, but if you need anyone to get punched for saying anything transphobic, just let her know. Mama bear has got you. Mama bear has got claws. Hell, Cumulus will even help beat someone up. She doesn’t even need to know the reason. If Cirrus is verbally or physically abusing someone that’s good enough reason for her. You now have two powerful and protective mom friends, use this power for good.

Cumulus: She’s not gonna notice if you’re acting nervous or weird about anything. She’s focused on hanging out with you and having a good time and making sure you’re having a good time and that fun things are happening. If you go to the beach and don’t take your shirt off, not weird. Neither of you are even in the water, you’re probably making an impressive sand castle on top of a sleeping Mountain. If you’re at the pool, she’s okay with sitting on the side talking your ear off about anything under the sun (which currently includes all the other ghouls as it was a family trip to the pool). She wouldn’t notice if you tugged at your binder or had a higher voice or anything someone might think would be conspicuous. If and/or when you eventually come out to her, she’s like “Ooohhh, okay!” And honestly? She might forget. And then remember. And then forget again, and remember again. It’s just another thing about you, like your hair colour or what music you like. Doesn’t make you any less wonderful to her, and wouldn’t change anything about your relationship.

- @solofreakk

[spacesuitsforemergency]

Oops!...I Did It Again

Word Count: 1.8k

Requested by @must-be-ryan: Oneshot idea (maybe?): Music Meister learning he has a kid in their early teens who just discovered their powers and followed in his footsteps

A/N: I tweaked it slightly so that he already knew his daughter. And btw her powers are so that she can speak and people will do as she says. Singing too, but just talking will do the trick. Also I’m literally the dumbest person on earth, I kept misspelling ‘sandwich’. I wrote this while listening to the High School Musical soundtracks

Music Meister Tagging: @silverdecepticon93

“Dad!” You shout in panic. “Help me!”

You watch as your dad comes barreling down the grand staircase of the mansion (which he had used his powers to “buy”), nearly slipping on the marble floors. It was way more hilarious because he was still in his pajamas, and had shaving cream on half his face.

He looks around the foyer, expecting to see danger, but everything looks normal. The only thing that tipped him off was his daughter standing in the front doorway, and the mail man was passed out on the porch.

“What happened?” He asked, joining you in the doorway and peering down at the dude.

“I don’t know! The guy told me to have a nice day, I said ‘drop dead’ and he just fell!” You gesture down to the man you potentially just killed.

“First of all, when someone says ‘have a nice day’, the proper response is ‘you too’.” Your dad corrects. “Second of all, is he actually dead?”

“I don’t know! Why do you think I yelled for help?” You raise an eyebrow at him.

Dennis reaches down and finds the mail mans pulse, sighing in relief when there is indeed one.

“He’s not dead...” he stands back up. “How did you do that?”

“What part of ‘I don’t know’ do you not understand?” You cross your arms, frustrated because you’re freaking out and he’s not helping so far.

“Is that sass, Missy?” He puts a hand on his hip.

“Dad! You’re not helping!”

“Okay, okay!” He nods, racking his brain for ideas. Then it hits him. “Oh my god, my darling! You must have developed your powers!”

“What? I thought you said I was too old to get them anymore?” You ask as he wraps you in a bear hug, picking you up and twirling.

“Well I guess that was one of the rare moments I was wrong!” He cheers joyfully as he sets you down. “Okay, tell me to do something.”

“Uh...make me a sandwich?” You shrug.

Nothing happens.

“Try to add a little...emotion. Show me some urgency!” He snaps his fingers. “Give me some pizzazz!”

“Make me a sandwich!” You yell at him, making sure to pour out your frustration.

He suddenly looses emotion in his face, and at first you’re kind of freaked out. Then he robotically moves to the kitchen, opening the fridge and cupboards as he gathers sandwich ingredients. You watch with your jaw dropped as he actually makes you a sandwich, and he blinks as soon as it’s finished. He looks around in confusion, staring at the sandwich in his hands.

“Why am I making a sandwich?” He asked after a minute.

“Holy shit! I did it!” You shout in glee.

“I have taught you better manners than that, but holy shit indeed!” He mirrors your excitement as he runs back over to you. “My baby girl is all grown up!”

“Now, what do we do about the mail man?” You point to him.

“Hm. I’ll take care of this. You go eat, you need some energy for the day we’re going to have!” He grins.

“What are we doing?” You ask.

“My dear, darling daughter, we are celebrating!” He sang. “I’ve been waiting for this day for 15 years! You are getting proper attire for villainy, and we are planning your first heist tonight!”

“Aw! Dad!” You groan in disgust when he kissed you on top of the head, his shaving cream getting in your hair. “Thanks a lot! Now I have to wash my hair again!”

•

“So what color scheme are we going for?” Your dad asks.

“I am not wearing your hideous green and purple.” You mumble as you stare at the stuff he already picked out in resentment. You were currently in some department store, picking out your new villain fit with your dad.

The past couple hours were almost torture, your dad just wouldn’t stop fawning over you. He was so excited and proud though, you couldn’t even get angry at the guy. He was thrilled to begin passing the torch down to you, and both of you were eager to get started.

“Um, I think you mean the gorgeous combination of lime and violet?” He scoffs, clearly offended. “It is one of the only things me and my dear friend Edward can agree on.”

“Well you and your dear friend Edward are wrong.” You shake your head.

“Y/N, it is not rocket science. Just pick something. We still need to give you a name.” He shoved the rack of clothing at you.

“Oh, I picked that out when I was 9.” You say, finally actually looking through the clothes, despite already knowing you wouldn’t like any of it.

Even after your father gave you the news that you would most likely not develop powers since you had passed the age he had received them, you still wanted them. You wanted to become just like your dad, he was your idol. You of course would never tell him that, his ego was way too big already.

“You...you did?” His voice cracks, a smile making its way to his face as he tears up.

“Are we really getting sappy right now?” You sigh.

“No!” He quickly wiped his tears. “No, of course not. What is it, dear? Tell me.”

“Siren. Hypnotic powers through voice? What do you think?” You grin.

“It’s fitting, dramatic, mysterious, threatening. I love it!” He hugs you for about the millionth time today. “Honey you have no idea how happy I am to hear that!”

“Hear what?” You wheeze from the tight hug.

“To hear that you picked out a name! To hear that you’ve wanted this for so long!” He finally let’s go to let you breathe properly. “Now, Siren, have you choosen your attire?”

“Yeah yeah. I hate it though.” You say sarcastically, pretending to be disgusted by the color combo.

You stuff the clothes into your bag, both of you getting ready to slip past the workers. You hear someone clear your throat behind you, and see Karen the Manager. The worst villain of all.

“I’m calling security. Don’t think I didn’t see that.” She sniped at you, sneering at the both of you before saying into her com; “We got a couple of lowlifes trying to smuggle some merchandise.”

“Lowlifes, Karen?” You glare at her. “You can just drop dead, lady!”

Then she falls to the ground.

“Oops, I did it again.” You wince.

“Lesson Number 1, you have got to stop saying that to people.” Your father shakes his head at you. “Not to worry! But we should get out of here before-“

“Hey! Stop right there!” A mall security guard shouts from the entrance of the store.

“Dad, what do we do?” You ask, panicked at this point.

“This is perfect practice! Siren, if you will.” He gestures to the guards coming for the both of you.

“What?!” Your eyes widen.

“Go on!” He nudges you, like a mother bird kicking its hatchling out of the nest. “Lesson Number 2, come up with it on the spot!”

“Stop!” You shout at the guards, and they freeze. “Okay uh...let us go. This never happened.”

“This never happened.” The 3 men nod, still frozen.

You and your dad creep past them, then book it out of the department store. You race down the hallways of the mall, shoving people out of your way. More mall cops pursue you as you dash towards the doors.

“Get the car! I’m right behind you!” Your dad pushes you through the doors.

“But I can’t drive!” You protest as he tosses you the keys.

“Lesson Number 3, go with the flow, my dear!” He grins before turning to deal with the guards.

You reluctantly rush to the car, not really sure how to even start it. You quickly figure it out, then drive to the entrance. Your dad sprints out a moment later, practically falling into the car.

“Step on it!” He screeches as police cars pull up from behind you.

You speed forward, barreling down the road. Your dad grabs the wheel to help guide you, while also looking back every so often to watch the police cars in pursuit.

“This is a lot of trouble for the ugliest outfit ever!” You yell in alarm as you nearly rear end someone, but your dad quickly swerves.

“It’s for the drama, darling!” Your dad beams, turning the radio on. “Plus the publicity!”

“Ew, this song is awful.” You scrunch your nose when he doesn’t change the station.

“I’m a little busy at the moment!” He yells, taking out his music staff and shooting music beams at the police from the sunroof.

You finally lose the cops after awhile, your dad plopping back into the passenger seat. When you make it to your house you stumble out of the car, shaking from the adrenaline rush.

“I’d say that went pretty well for your first crime.” He says after a few moments of silence.

“I think I’m gonna be sick.” You groan.

“Wasn’t that such a thrill?” He ignores you, strutting up to the door. “How do you feel?”

You respond by throwing up in the well trimmed bushes, Dennis cringing as his daughters’ retches. He inches towards you, awkwardly rubbing your back in a weak attempt to comfort you. When you finish he guides you inside and to the table, quickly grabbing you a glass of water.

“You’re okay right?” He asks, concerned. “I didn’t freak you out, did I? I’m a horrible father, I shouldn’t have dragged you into this. I’ve scarred you for life! I am a disgrace! An imbecile! Wretched! Diabolical! Heinous! Wick-!”

“Chillax, drama queen.” You giggle. “The only thing I’m scarred with is the fear of driving ever again.”

“So...you’re okay?” He asks timidly.

“Of course, that was awesome!” You grin. “Did you see me beat Karen? And the cops? And when I almost hit that one guy crossing the road but I didn’t? I just committed my first felony!”

“Hell yeah, you did!” He cheered, giving you the most over the top high five ever. “So I didn’t give my baby any emotional trauma?”

“No, dude! That was so cool! I’m so ready for the next heist!” You give him your best evil grin.

“Thank god, because I already got these custom made.” He pulls a case out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a pair of visors identical to his.

You smile up at him, and this time you initiated the hug. You thank him and kiss him on the cheek, before taking the visor and putting it on. You look in the reflection of the wall length window, then turn to your dad, who has a proud smile on his face.

“How do I look?” You ask.

“You look all grown up...” Dennis sniffles, tearing up once again.

“Dad!”

“I’m sorry! I promise I’ll stop crying one of these days!”

[hercleverboy]

🧩! i’m minoring in sociology so i’m taking criminology this semester (i haven’t taken any soc. classes before, because i was og going to minor in criminal justice), but i have loved (i don’t think that’s the right word, interested? idk) true crime forever and ever!

one of the cases i’m interested in is ted bundy (i know, i know), but the way he was able to blend into society, and get away with those murders? oh my god. and the movie with zac efron? it’s one of my favorites, and i’m eh about them romanticizing serial killers, but i thought zac portrayed him in a way that he wasn’t romanticized, esp. with the victims at the end?

n e way, congrats on 1k, my love! you deserve it!

muah!

🧩 let’s talk about unsolved murders/cases!

hi there rose! thank you so much, and thank you for participating!

and it’s cool to hear you’re taking criminology, you’re gonna love it. I’ve always loved true crime stuff too (I’m sure ‘loved’ is an okay word to use), so I’m glad you picked this one to ask!

so, ted bundy; (i apologise in advance for the damn near essay i’ve written you asddjfhk)

tw: murder, animal abuse, domestic violence, child abuse. 

bundy is of course one of the first names that comes to mind when we talk about serial killers. he’s as notorius as jeffrey dahmer, john wayne gacy, and even richard ramirez (la’s very own ‘night stalker’). 

one of the most interesting things serial murderers is that there’s this widespread idea that they were born that way. i’d heavily disagree and instead argue that serial killers aren’t born, they’re made. 

when you look into bundy’s childhood and home life, you’ll see that the environment he was raised in likely hugely impacted him. he never knew his father, and was raised by his maternal grandparents for the first three years of his life so that his mother could avoid the backlash she’d recieve for having a child out of wedlock. bundy resented his mother for never telling him the true identity of his father, though many family members claimed that his father was actually his abusive grandfather (though this was never proven.)

in interviews, bundy spoke warmly of both his grandparents, particularly with how he looked up to his grandfather, samuel cowell. this seems a nice sentiment until you find out that cowell was not a good role model for a young impressionable boy. he was described as a ‘tyrannical bully’, and often abused his wife and the family dog. 

with cowell being the only father figure in bundy’s life, it isn’t difficult to see why he became what he did. (although let me make it clear that his childhood traumas in no way excuse the crimes he committed, nor the horrid fashion of them. but it has to be considered whether these events set bundy up for a life he couldn’t have escaped from) 

when you consider the environment he grew up in, and the behaviour he learned from a man he looked up to, you have to wonder how he ever could’ve been anything else? children learn from and immitate behaviour they see from their superiors, so being raised in such an envrionment would of course effect bundy psychologically.  (i’d look into bandura’s social learning theory if this idea is interesting to you) 

ted’s behaviour is what i find the most interesting. he was charasmatic and handsome, and those traits alone would explain why he blended into society so expertly. its a common myth, the idea that serial killers all have to be dysfunctional, incapable of living normal lives. this is not the case. they hide in plain sight, and because they blend in so effortlessly, they are often overlooked by law enforcement and the public. 

(for example the BTK killer dennis rader, who killed ten victims in and around kansas, was married with two children, had served honourably in the us air force and was employed as a local government official.)

then of course if you take into account how he entrapped his victims- by pretending to be injured or disabled- they never would’ve seen it coming, not when he was held to such a high standard in the community. 

and then eventually, after nearly a decade of denying his role in the murders, he confessed to thirty murders before his execution in 1989, though the real number of murders is believed to be much higher. if you watch the docuseries on netflix (the ted bundy tapes; which i would highly reccomend), you’ll see that hundred’s gathered outside to sing, dance and even set of fireworks outside the prisonhe was being executed in. (you could even hear them chanting ‘burn, bundy, burn’) 

i really liked zac efron’s portrayal of bundy, and i agree with you on how they didn’t attempt to romanticise him or his crimes. and rightfully so, because while i’m fascinated by serial killers such as him, and am so interested in the reasoning behind why someone would commit such heinous crimes, we can’t forget the victims and the famillies who suffered such tragic losses. 

Much love to you, rose!

kate’s 1k celebration 🦋

[project-ml]

Project: Scrapbook — Like Ladybug (Part One)

Project: Scrapbook Masterpost (tbp)

Comic By: @chalala-chan & @trinity-nevermore

Written By: @jezzicabell​ & @megatraven​

Beta’d By: @panda013​

Summary: During the events of Lady Wifi, Chloe finds herself with enough time to think about her actions and her hopes for the future.

Words: 2310

Another day at school, another day of having to be the best. If Chloé was being honest, sometimes it could get tiring, being the best. She couldn’t let anyone else think they were the best, oh no, that wouldn’t do at all. Sabrina’s attention and presence helped, she supposed. She already knew who the best was and didn’t usually need to be reminded.

The people she did have to remind, though, often came in the form of other students who were too confident for their own good. It really was a lot of work, and it kept her on her toes, but as she stepped out of the limousine, she set right to work.

She handed off her bag into the arms of Sabrina, who was waiting for her, per the norm. “Hey there! Hi! You look totally fab!” she exclaimed, waving her hand and looking at nowhere in particular. The students nearby looked at her in surprise before she continued, “Uh, no, not you. Hey, it’s still a month from Halloween, you know?” She said this matter-of-factly and marched on, not waiting for a reaction.

Without looking back, she knew she’d captured the attention of everyone present. Their gazes lingered after her, just as they ought to, or her name wasn’t Chloé Bourgeois.

“You see, Sabrina? If people won’t realize how great I am on their own, I’ve got to tell them. Afterall, everyone loves me, and it’d be a shame if they forgot it,” she said with a smile.

Even as she smiled, though, she found herself a tad distracted. Sure, maybe her tactics weren’t the best way to get the job done, but they worked all the same. As long as people gave her the attention she deserved, then she was content in what she did. She didn’t need to be a ‘better person’ if she found herself to be the best already. Not to mention that she never really committed to the promise she almost made the day Stone Heart attacked.

I’m perfect just the way I am, Chloé thought as Sabrina and her separated. They walked to their respective lockers and Chloé opened hers, checking to make sure all her valuables were still there.

Just as she was content with everything inside, she heard a crash sound by the locker next to hers.

“Oh, uhhh… Ladybug! Look over there!” Nino yelled out behind her. Chloé turned to see what the big deal was. Seeing as it was just one extremely nervous looking Nino she rolled her eyes. If there was one thing she knew how to look for it was nervousness. What with Sabrina always around, it was a pretty easy emotion to catch in other people. Plus, it was a super easy way to get people to do what she wanted them to do.

“What kind of lame joke is this?” she asked impatiently tapping her foot.

“Well, uh, that was... Did you see Ladybug yesterday? Isn't she amazing? I wonder who she really is,” Nino responded.

Chloé wasn’t quite sure what he was suspicious of, but he was in her personal space and this was not acceptable. Placing a hand to his face she pushed him away before turning to her locker. Quickly she reached for her pump of antibacterial gel to rid herself of whatever bacteria she had managed to collect.

“Uhh... were you up too late DJ-ing, Nino? Obviously you didn't get your beauty sleep,” she replied scathingly as she rubbed the gel into her skin. There was the sound of a camera to her right and she hears Sabrina gasp.

“Chloé! Alya’s looking into your locker!” Sabrina called from where she has been talking to Kim about who cares what.

Chloé glanced at everything visible in her locker before turning to glare at Alya. There was no way this voyeur was going to get away with this. It was simply inexcusable that anyone thought they could get away with stealing secrets from her.

“Th-that’s a lie! I so was not!” Alya retorted while shifting so that her phone was hidden behind her back.

Chloé was disappointed that the girl had even tried to pretend she hadn’t been caught red handed and was ready to cut her down to size when Kim reached out and snatched the phone out of Alya’s hands. At least someone was being useful.

Chloé smiled victoriously as Kim held the phone out of reach.

“Hey! Give it back!” Alya complained jumping up in a futile attempt to reach her phone. Holding her hand out for the device Chloé was very happy to see Alya back off. It was good to know someone was learning. Nino had abandoned her a while back to watch from a safe distance.

Working quickly she closed out of the camera app and opened the albums. Opening the newest picture she held the phone up for everyone to see.

“Who's the little liar now?” she asked Alya with disdain. Turning to Kim she put on her nicest smile. “Kim would you be a dear and escort me and this criminal to the principal's office? I don’t want to be left defenseless with such a fiend.”

“Yeah, sure. Whatever.”

Chloé nodded sharply before turning around to close her locker. Still holding Alya’s phone, she easily led the procession of four back through the school corridors. She smiled in satisfaction as any lingering students quickly moved out of her way.

Arriving promptly at the principal’s door she knocked sharply before pushing the door wide open and entering the room anyway. Mr Damocles looked up at the interruption before moving his paperwork out of the way with a sigh.

“What is it that I can assist you with, Miss Bourgeois?” he asked.

“I want justice,” she said sharply. “This fiend,” she continued as she pointed accusingly at Alya, “has been caught doing wrong by me!”

“Why don’t we all have a seat and you can both explain to me what happened,” he said calmly and indicated the two seats in front of his desk.

“You would have me sit next to this perpetrator? Preposterous,” Chloé exclaimed before turning to look at Sabrina who quickly moved forward to separate the two chairs before standing dutifully behind Chloé’s. Chloé calmly perched herself in the armchair with every ounce of dignity she had.

“Now Chloé, could you please explain to me what it is that you are accusing your classmate of, exactly?”

“Of course sir, I will tell you with all honesty what tragedy has befallen me this afternoon,” she states resolutely as she places Alya’s phone on the desk. “She's guilty of invasion of privacy! I have proof!” There was no way so was going to lose this battle. Her pride was on the line.

“What?! Seriously! All I did was take a measly photo!” Alya spluttered from her seat.

“I'm sorry, Chloé. But there's no school policy on invasion of privacy,” the principle interrupted before Chloé could respond. Chloé paused for a second. This wasn’t going to float, not one bit. Time for a new angle.

“Then... then breaking and entering!” she responded angrily.

“I didn’t break into her locker! It was open!” Alya retorted from her seat angrily.

“And nothing was stolen?” Mr Damocles asked as he looked between the four teens in his office. Chloe pounced on the opportunity.

“Only my very soul! My locker is my secret garden! He who enters uninvited burglarizes my inner being and steals my life force!” she cried with faux desperation, letting herself curl into a position of grief.

“Right,” the principal said before turning to Alya. “An hour of detention for you, Alya.” Neither girl looked particularly happy at this but Chloé was absolutely livid.

“Are my ears failing me?” Chloe almost growled. “Did I hear you're giving one miserable hour of detention to a... a heinous criminal? Sabrina!” Sabrina quickly stepped forward.

“The school rules clearly state that any student guilty of theft should be suspended for one full week,” she rattled off in a quiet but clear voice. Chloe smirked before settling her features back into neutrality and sitting up once more to face the principal.

“Yes, but she’s hardly stolen anything,” the principal states firmly. There was no way Chloé was going to let Alya get away with this crime because the principal didn’t see what the problem was.

“I’m not sure that my father would share your point of view,” Chloé says calmly as she pulls out her own mobile phone already opening her list of speed dial numbers. Watching the principal out of the corner of her eye she smirks internally as the man begins to look uncomfortable.

“Uhhh, well, now, Chloé, let's not bother your father, I mean, the honorable Mayor with a minor locker situation…” he says, on the verge of nervous rambling as Chloe hits the call button. “Ehhh… what I mean is, you're suspended for a week, Alya.”

“What?!” Alya screeches as Chloe hangs up but keeps her phone ready to go. “That is so unfair! I am so gonna protest this on the school blog!” Chloé frowns and raises a single eyebrow in the principal’s direction with crossed arms and when he looks in her direction. She smirks she she sees the look of resignation.

“The school blog is hereby suspended as well,” he counteracts with a low sigh and Chloe finally tucks the phone away in her handbag, feeling rather satisfied.

“She's no superhero, she's super-psycho!” Alya screeches angrily before storming out of the room and slamming the door behind her.

Now that was completely uncalled for. Chloé carefully keeps her face a mask of success and calmly leaves the room with Sabrina on her heels and a reluctant Kim tailing behind. Once safely away from the office Chloé turns and faces Kim.

“Thank you for assistance this afternoon Kim,” she says, not quite as sharply as she would’ve liked. With a barely noticeable nod she turns around and continues on her way back to her locker. She doesn’t quite miss Sabrina’s quiet thanks and Kim’s wide smile as she turns and stalks her way back through the now deserted hallways of the school.

Stopping in front of her locker she easily opens the door and begins to pull out the things she would need for the afternoon. Her homework had already been passed off to Sabrina after class and her bag of Ladybug essentials were tucked safely under her arm. She would need the distraction today.

“Chloé?” Sabrina asked quietly.

“What is it Sabrina?”

“You.. uhh… you shouldn’t listen to what Alya said,” she says in what’s probably her quietest voice all day. How was it that Sabarina always managed to see right through her? Chloé found it very frustrating. How was she supposed to be the best if people saw her weaknesses? It just wasn’t acceptable. Even if it did feel nice to know that at least someone could.

“Why would I listen to her? All she sprouts is utter nonsense,” Chloé replied. Closing and locking the locker she begins the walk to the car that would be waiting for her at the front of the school. “Did you hear last week how she was talking about the top five indicators that Ladybug and Chat Noir are a couple? I can’t believe anyone believes it. They’re obviously not dating. I should know, I see them way more often than she does.” Chloé kept talking about all the ridiculous things that Alya had spouted over the last few weeks until she was in the car and driving away.

If she was the only one talking, no one else could ask questions she didn’t want to answer.

It had been a regular afternoon for Sabrina. Catch the bus home, cook dinner for when her dad got home from work and do homework. She was almost finished with all the homework, too. Maybe she would have enough time to finish reading that novel today.

If only she could get these last few troublesome maths problems out of the way.

There was a faint ringing as her phone rang from her bag. She pulled it out, believing it to be either Chloe with a fresh complaint about something or her dad saying he was going to be late. Seeing the unknown number, she paused for a second before putting the phone down and just ignoring the call to go back to her homework. A few seconds later the phone stopped buzzing, but not long after that it started up again.

Who would be trying to call her? Had Dad forgotten to take his phone with him? Had Chloe gotten a new number? Had her mother finally deigned to call? Well probably not that last one but one could always hope. Deciding that she wouldn’t know until she answered the call she waited for it to ring for a third time before answering the call.

As soon as she had answered the phone vibrated harshly and glowed a vibrant pink that was painful to look at. Dropping the mobile on the table with a harsh clatter Sabrina pushed herself away, stumbling as the chair tipped over backwards and she knocked her head harshly on the floor.

“Third time’s the charm after all!”

Sabrina looked up with blurry vision having lost her glasses in the fall. There was somebody standing on her desk. She had all of a second to react as something pink flashed in front of her eyes and suddenly she couldn’t move anymore.

“Oh would you look at that, I don’t even have to get passed the lock! How fortunate is that! Let’s see… Contacts.... Here we go, Chloé Bourgeois, I’ll take that number. Thanks for taking my call.”

With another flash of light it was quiet again.

Oh, why did Chloé keep attracting all these akuma?

[aion-rsa]

The 16 Worst Things The Joker Has Ever Done

First introduced in Bob Kane’s “Batman” #1 in 1940, the Joker is a psychopathic clown with a twisted sense of humor and a talent for murder. His purple suit, white skin and ghoulish red smile have become a staple in Batman’s pages, and readers can’t get enough of his crazy rampages.

RELATED: The Worst Things Lex Luthor Has Ever Done

The Joker is one of the greatest villains in all of comic book history, partly because he’s so insane, but also because he’s so ruthless. He’ll often come up with a crazy idea and will stop at nothing to pull it off, shrugging off logic or motive in favor of anarchy. He’ll kill anyone for any reason, and even for no reason at all. This has led him to commit a lot of heinous acts, but some stand out above all others. Here are the 16 worst things the Joker has ever done.

JOKER KILLED ROBIN

The first crime we’ll cover in this list is one of the few things the Joker has done at the instructions of the readers. In 1988, DC published “Batman: A Death in the Family,” a four-issue miniseries written by Jim Starlin and pencilled by Jim Aparo. In the story, Robin (Jason Todd) went on a search for his real mother, unaware that the Joker had blackmailed her into betraying Todd. When the Joker got hold of Robin, he beat the Boy Wonder ruthlessly with a crowbar and left him to be blown up by a time bomb.

The impact of Robin’s death was huge, scarring Batman for years afterwards because he felt responsible, and left him unwilling to take on new sidekicks. It also caused Batman’s feud with the Joker to become much more personal. Among fans, the death was controversial because it was triggered by a 900-number set up by DC for fans to vote on whether Robin lived or died. Jason Todd eventually returned in 2005’s “Batman” #638 as the Red Hood, but the scars on Batman have remained.

JOKER KILLED HIMSELF

The 1986 graphic novel, “The Dark Knight Returns,” by Frank Miller, was about an aging Bruce Wayne in the near future forced out of retirement to confront new and old enemies alike, including a Joker who had been declared sane, but was actually crazier than ever. In a final fight in the sewers under Gotham City, Batman broke the Joker’s spine, but refused to kill him. The Joker, knowing the police were on their way, pushed his own neck to breaking point until he killed himself.

It’s hard to imagine someone having the willpower and physical fortitude to break their own neck, but the Joker is just crazy enough to do it. Batman would have been happy to be rid of the Joker without getting his own hands dirty, except the police found the Joker’s body and launched a manhunt to arrest him for murder. This, of course, was the point of Joker’s machinations and gave him his final revenge on The Bat. Even with his death, the Joker got the last laugh.

JOKER TURNED GOTHAM INTO ZOMBIES

Written by Scott Snyder and pencilled by Greg Capullo, “Batman: Endgame” was a six-issue miniseries published in 2014 that followed up on the Joker’s attack on the Batman Family in “Death of the Family.” In “Endgame,” the Joker released an airborne disease in Gotham City that made everyone it infected into a violent Joker-faced maniac. If that wasn’t bad enough, he kicked off his “Endgame” by using a custom toxin to warp members of the Justice League into making them try to kill Batman. It took all of Batman’s skills, technology and indeed patience to escape and subdue his friends.

“Endgame” was nothing less than the Joker trying to turn everyone against Batman; something, in many ways, he succeeded in doing. Having to fight the entire Justice League and the people of Gotham was one of the hardest challenges Batman ever had to face, and the Joker made it even harder by using his knowledge of his secret identity against him. In the end, the Joker and Batman had their memories wiped, but the Clown Prince of Crime wasn’t done yet. Neither are we. In fact, we’re just getting started…

JOKER ELECTROCUTED HARLEY QUINN

“Oh, I’m not gonna kill you. I’m just gonna hurt you really, really bad.”

With those words, moviegoers were introduced to the new Joker, played by Jared Leto, in the trailer for the 2016 movie, “Suicide Squad.” Until the film was released, we didn’t really know who the Joker was talking to, but we all found out the hard way when it hit theaters. In a flashback, we saw Dr. Harleen Quinzel (Margot Robbie) as the Joker’s psychiatrist, who fell in love with the criminal clown — much in the same way she did in the animated series and then the comics. It seemed like a match made in heaven… until the Joker escaped.

What was the first thing the Joker did once he was free? Did he give Quinzel a kiss and tell her he loved her? No, he strapped her down on a bed and gave her electroshock therapy. She said she could take it, came out of it just as crazy as the Joker and turned into Harley Quinn, but it was still a cold-blooded thing to do (and hugely problematic to a lot of moviegoers and fans).

JOKER SKINNED HIS EX-PARTNER

Written by Brian Azzarello and illustrated by Lee Bermejo, 2008’s graphic novel “Joker” told the story of the clown’s release from Arkham Asylum from the perspective of one of his henchmen. As he’s driven around by the henchman, the Joker is focused on settling old scores, one of whom is a former lackey named Monty, who the Joker follows into the backroom of a strip club, ostensibly to “discuss” what’s happened since his incarceration. Minutes later, Monty stumbles out, skinned from the neck down, and collapses in a fleshy heap.

The Joker may be crazy, but not when it comes to his businesses. He needs money to pull off his “wacky” schemes, and his organization is one that employs a lot of people to do terrible things to get it. Monty learned the hard way not to trust the Joker and never to cross him. The Joker is a lot of things, but a forgiving person isn’t one of them.

JOKER KILLED PEOPLE FOR PRACTICE

Written by Ed Brubaker (with art by Doug Mahnke, colored by David Baron), “Batman: The Man Who Laughs” was released in 2005, and retold the story of Batman’s first battle with the Joker. Adapted from the original story in “Batman” #1, the one-shot comic showed the Joker committing crimes by predicting them beforehand. The police raced to try to stop him, only to discover the Joker had plotted devious ways to kill his targets and steal their valuables, and ended by trying to poison Gotham’s water supply.

The story was set shortly after “Batman: Year One,” and showed a Gotham City trying to adjust to a world of costumed heroes and villains, but the Joker took things to a whole new level. He even killed nine people with his toxic venom just for practice, and when he began his real murders, Batman felt helpless to stop them. It was the beginning of the Joker’s career as a crazy supervillain, and he got off to a great start — or a terrible start, depending on your point of view.

JOKER KILLED GORDON’S WIFE

Sarah Essen had a long history with Commissioner Gordon, starting in 1987’s “Batman” #405, when she had a brief affair with him. She began dating him after Gordon’s divorce, and he married her shortly after. Unfortunately, that’s when the Joker stepped in, to end their happiness. In “Detective Comics” #741 (written by Devin Grayson and Greg Rucka, penciled by Dale Eaglesham and Damion Scot in 2000), the Joker kidnapped dozens of babies and hid them in the basement of the Gotham police station. When Essen pulled a gun on the Joker, he tossed a baby at her. We repeat, he threw a baby at her. When she caught the baby, he shot her in the head and left her with the baby crawling over her bloody corpse.

As messed up as it was to use a baby to kill someone (and it was), it was who he killed that makes the death so horrible. The Joker killing Gordon’s wife threw the commissioner into a rage that made him shoot the clown in the leg. It wasn’t even close to making up for the pain the Joker caused, but he had a good laugh.

JOKER KILLED 19 POLICE

In the New 52 reboot of the DC universe, the Joker had arranged to have his face cut off and disappeared for a year. In the 2012 story arc “Death of the Family” (by writer Scott Snyder, drawn primarily by Greg Capullo), The Joker returned in the worst way. As Commissioner Gordon worked with his police, a figure appeared in the door of the station that he immediately recognized as the Joker… just as the lights went out.

As Gordon frantically tried to restore the lights and find the Joker, the madman went through the station telling jokes while snapping necks. By the time the lights came back on, Gordon huddled in the police station alone, surrounded by 19 dead bodies. The deaths of the police officers were just the beginning of the Joker’s reign of terror, and he had much worse in store for Batman and his team. But these murders stood out. He took on the protectors of Gotham and showed how none of them could stop him.

JOKER RAINED BROKEN GLASS ON GOTHAM

Written by Michael Green and penciled by Denys Cowan, “Batman Confidential” #11 in 2008 showed one of the Joker’s most brutal and vicious crimes. The Joker was free, and thinking how he could make more people like him. After deciding Gotham needed a dose of medicine, he sent a blimp over the City and blew it up… but it wasn’t filled with explosives. It was filled with broken glass tainted with his Joker venom, raining shards onto the terrified city.

It wasn’t the first time the Joker had killed with his poison that forces a grisly smile on its victims, but it seemed more horrific to be trapped in a rain of broken glass than sprayed with a squirting flower on the lapel. The only problem was that Batman was holed up in the hospital at the bedside of his girlfriend, Lorna Shore. With all the people he killed, the Joker was really just trying to get Batman’s attention, and didn’t even succeed.

JOKER BLEW UP A SCHOOL

In 2009, Kevin Smith, Walt Flanagan and Sandra Hope collaborated on “Batman: Cacophony,” a three-issue series about a battle between Batman, the Joker and Maxie Zeus. In the series, the Greek madman Maxie Zeus was combining the Joker’s venom with ecstasy to create a new street drug called “Chuckles.” The Joker didn’t take kindly to his deadly poison being used by partying kids and wanted it stopped, going so far as starting a gang war. To make his point, the Joker met with Maxie Zeus and blew up a school full of kids.

The deaths of so many children would rank high on many lists, but not with the Joker. Much like some of the other murders in this list, it’s the casual way the Joker killed that made it so horrible. He really blew up the school as the end of a joke. For the Joker, death is the best punchline of them all.

JOKER POISONED BEAUTY PRODUCTS

Up until the 1989 Tim Burton “Batman” movie, the Joker was best remembered by the public as the chortling prankster played by Cesar Romero in the 1966 TV series. Jack Nicholson quickly erased those memories with his twisted portrayal of a homicidal Joker with a permanent smile, and he did some pretty horrific things to get there. One of the worst had to be his contamination of hygiene products in Gotham City with a chemical toxin called Smylex.

The fact that the Joker killed people with beauty products was all part of his ugly obsession with his own disfigurement. Since no one knew which items had been poisoned, everyone just stopped using them. That left a city too afraid to put on makeup or even deodorant. His transformation into a hideous clown made him decide to make everyone else as ugly as he was; but in the end, he showed the truly ugliest one was himself.

JOKER GAVE AWAY POISONED COTTON CANDY

As we’ve seen before, the Joker doesn’t shy away from killing anyone, and that includes children. Let’s go back to Frank Miller’s “The Dark Knight Returns” for another moment, where the Joker had executed his final plan of convincing the world he was sane enough to show up on a late-night talk show, only to poison everyone in the room and make his escape. From there, the Joker set up a booth at the county fair to hand out free (but poisoned) cotton candy to 16 Cub Scouts, killing them all.

Killing hundreds of people in a TV studio was a terrible thing to do, and should have been really high on the list, but somehow the poisoning of children (Cub Scouts, no less) was much more horrifying. Imagining the joy on the kids’ faces, quickly turning to agony and horror is enough to turn your stomach. Batman stopped the Joker from killing more with a batarang to the eye, but not in time to save all the kids of Gotham.

JOKER TRIED TO COPYRIGHT FISH

In 1978, “Detective Comics” #475 (written by Steve Englehart, pencilled by Marshall Rogers, colored by Jerry Serpe), the Joker committed one of his most bizarre crimes ever. When Gotham City discovered fish in the harbor that had a ghoulish smile, the Joker announced that he wanted to copyright them, only to be told that fish couldn’t be copyrighted. The Joker went on to kill city officials to try to force them to meet his demands, but since they literally could not, a lot of people died.

It’s the senselessness of these murders that ranks it so high on the list. The Joker didn’t target anyone who could actually let him copyright the Joker Fish, making the whole exercise just an act of torture, and another example of how the Joker’s actions seem so meaningless. This story was later adapted into an amazing (but kid-friendly) episode of “Batman: The Animated Series” in 1993.

JOKER DESTROYED SUPERMAN

“Injustice: Gods Among Us” is a 2013 fighting game that pitted DC heroes and villains against each other, transcending the game and becoming a massive hit as its own comic. In the game, the characters from the mainstream DC universe crossed over into an alternate reality where Superman and the Justice League had imposed totalitarian rule. The event that pushed Superman over the edge was caused by none other than the Joker.

In the “Injustice” comic book, it explained how the Joker stole a nuclear submarine and dosed Superman with a kryptonite-laced version of the Scarecrow’s fear gas. The gas made Superman see and fight his enemy Doomsday, only to discover he really fought his pregnant wife, Lois Lane. Even worse, her death triggered the detonation of a nuclear bomb in Metropolis. The shock of losing Lois and Metropolis caused Superman to kill the Joker and take over the world, which was what Joker wanted in his twisted way all along.

JOKER ATE CHINA

In 2000, Superman found himself in a bizarre and twisted world where his enemies were the heroes and the heroes were the villains. Created by Jeph Loeb, Joe Kelly, J.M. DeMatteis and Mark Schulz, the nine-issue crossover came to be known as “Superman: Emperor Joker,” where the Joker stole the reality-altering powers of Mister Mxyzptlk. The Joker used his god-like powers to make twisted versions of the superheroes, kill and resurrect Batman daily… and oh yeah, eat China.

That’s right, the Joker ate the entire population of China, which is home to over a billion people. The worst part is that he just did it so he could make a joke about Chinese food. As far as body count, it’s hard to top that one. The only thing that keeps it from being number one is the fact that everything Emperor Joker did was reversed, so it never actually happened. But the memory of mountains of skulls still lingers for many fans, as does the fact that we all know the horrors of which Joker is capable, given enough power.

JOKER PARALYZED BARBARA GORDON

Of all the crimes the Joker has ever committed, there’s one that rises above all others, and has even triggered debate outside of the comic world about his mania. Written by Alan Moore and illustrated by Brian Bolland, 1988’s graphic novel “The Killing Joke” was a dark and twisted story where the Joker tried to drive Commissioner Gordon insane by shooting Barbara Gordon. The shooting left Barbara alive, but paralyzed from the waist down.

While the Joker put Commissioner Gordon through a twisted ride showing nude pictures of Barbara — more than implying that he assaulted her on various, horrendous levels — the Commissioner managed to hold onto his sanity. By this estimation, then, the Joker ultimately failed, but Barbara Gordon’s paralysis remained, leaving her unable to continue as Batgirl. She eventually used her computer hacking ability to become the secret crimefighter Oracle, and the New 52 reboot retconned her paralysis, but the focused cruelty and intimate viciousness of the attack brought up debates even outside the comic book community on whether the Joker, as a character, went too far.

What’s the worst thing you think the Joker has done? Let us know in the comments!

The post The 16 Worst Things The Joker Has Ever Done appeared first on CBR.com.

http://ift.tt/2ivMrqh