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every-character-ever-poll · 1 year ago

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WEEK TWO LINEUP

Thank you all for a wonderful first week of this poll! As of posting this, I have received 457 submissions (which is a lot more than I was anticipating). Because of that, I've decided to make every week have 100 polls instead of the minimum 80 I had planned at the beginning.

Without further ado, here is our week two lineup!

Travis Matagot - Campaign Skyjacks

April Ryan - The Longest Journey

Sam Puckett - iCarly, Sam and Cat

Jade West - Victorious

Nicholas D. Wolfwood - Trigun

Vash The Stampede - Trigun

Meito Anizawa - Anime Tenchou

CATS - Zero Wing

Shin Amon - Yakuza, Judgment

Xue Yang - The Untamed

Lyman - Garfield

Marius Pontmercy - Les Misérables

Pierre Bezukhov - War and Peace

Netzach - Lobotomy Corporation, Library of Ruina

Ash Fox - Fantastic Mr. Fox

Sneeze - Fool's Gold

Max - Sam and Max

Alina Gray - Magia Record

Lloyd Irving - Tales of Symphonia

Agent John Bishop - Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles (2003)

TableTurf Card: Inkbrush - Splatoon 3

TableTurf Card: Aerospray MG - Splatoon 3

Marigold/Beth Parish - The Fairy Chronicles

TableTurf Card: Annaki Splatershot Nova - Splatoon 3

Thistle - The Fairy Chronicles

Warren Stone - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Hypno-Potamus - Rise of the Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles

Himena Aika - Magia Record

Tidy - The Little Trashmaid

Bon - Five NIghts at Freddy's High School

Tamaki - Mahou ga Tsukaenakutemo

Error!Sans - loverofpiggies.tumblr.com

Idia Shroud - Twisted Wonderland

Beetlejuice - Beetlejuice the Musical

Kotetsu T. Kaburagi (Wild Tiger) - Tiger and Bunny

Nikol - Xenoblade 3: Future Redeemed

Noel Gruber - Ride the Cyclone

Jack Fairy - Velvet Goldmine

Nightmare Knight - Cucumber Quest

Agent Olive - Odd Squad

Derrick Berg - Lord of the Mysteries

Yukine - Noragami

Father - Noragami

Hu Geng - The Tale of Food

Li Ling - Dislyte

Wylan Van Eck - Six of Crows

Naoto Shirogane - Persona 4

P03 - Inscryption

Gabriel - Ultrakill

Airi Momoi - Project Sekai

Myles Toyne - A Song of Ice and Fire

Jon Connington - A Song of Ice and Fire

Daemon II Blackfyre - Tales of Dunk and Egg

Buckshot (Bimbo) - Simba the King Lion

Maze Myers - Ebon Ward

Marcy Wu - Amphibia

Merry Nightmare - Yumekui Merry

Heiji Hattori - Detective Conan

Hapu - Pokémon

Cure Bloom - Futari wa Precure Splash Star

Mollymauk Tealeaf - Critical Role

Willow Rosenberg - Buffy the Vampire Slayer

Inigo Montoya - The Princess Bride

Cloud Strife - Final Fantasy VII

Aerith Gainsborough - Final Fantasy VII

Paruko/Harmony - Splatoon

dedf1sh - Splatoon

Arlan - Honkai: Star Rail

Ángel Valdivia - Detective Beebo

Nahyuta Sahdmadhi - Ace Attorney

Edmond - Nu:Carnival

Jupiter - We Know the Devil

Scarlet Witch - Marvel

Tobias Schneien - Ghost Eyes

Cure March - Smile Precure

Cure Diamond - Doki Doki Precure

Valerie - Pokémon

Alice Carroll - ARIA

Marika Kato - Mouretsu Pirates

Obi - Akagami no Shirayuki-hime

Nano Shinonome - Nichijou

Cure Butterfly - Hirogaru Sky Precure

Ran Mouri - Detective Conan

Houtarou Oreki - Hyouka

Yui Yumekawa - Idol Time Pripara

Kozue Kaoru - Revolutionary Girl Utena

Mew Ichigo - Tokyo Mew Mew

Last Order - A Certain Magical Index

Hau - Pokémon

Cure Melody - Suite Precure

Hannibal Lecter - Hannibal

Horibe Itona - Assassination Classroom

Puppycat - Bee and Puppycat

Momiji Binboda - Binbougami Ga!

Jim Lake Jr - Trollhunters

Romelle - Voltron Legendary Defender

Mai - Avatar: The Last Airbender

Vermouth - Detective Conan

Silver - Pokémon

#the week ahead #a lot of this weeks submissions did not have images or propaganda #in fact every submission after Cure March this week had neither #As a result i will try to add images I find myself. just to make the polls look nicer #not a poll

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deadelsewhere · 10 months ago

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I do!! I like uhh Slay the Princess, Minecraft, Roblox, someeeee UHM some others!! Endroll and Your Turn To Die are all pretty good :)

i have played end roll and also farethere city. those are both really good. i also liked omori and off, as well as some lesser known games like middens and gingiva. hylics and hylics 2 are also very good, i liked those.

then there's games like we happy few. it's not too good for game play but i thoroughly enjoyed the story. i wish i could dress like the characters in we happy few.

i like alan wake, along with the american nightmare but i have not played the new one. (X︹X)

i do like games with a lot of atmosphere. buckshot roulette has a lot of atmosphere but its a very simple game.

i want to play more minecraft. maybe it'll help with stabilization.

(X X)

#video games #dead heir #filmingintheforest

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thesopwithcamel · 1 year ago

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A hat in time: The Three Hats AU, Subcon forest part 2.

1HT Queen Vanessa:

dead

just...dead

no seriously Vincent fucking butchered her for fun, desecrated her corpse and resides in her ruined manor, also other things happened.

2HT Vanessa:

Vincent does not want to touch her with a 10 foot pole, wise guy.

Turns people into stone instead of ice

Vanessa's prince in 2HT was the Prince who later became the Moonjumper following a botched ritual.

Invicible to everything but buckshot.

Her manor has access to the third floor.

Natalie actually has several painful respawns here and later needed fucking therapy from Thor, Caitlyn then got sick of Vanessa's shit and butchered her with a mossberg 590 with a fucking axe head on it.

2HT Prince:

His soul still has limited automamy over his body but Moonjumper does most of the heavy lifting, doesn't help much when Moonjumper is a manipulative piece of shit who lies and schemes his way to power.

Moonjumper attempted to rid his soul once and for all but he was able to escape and hid out with Luka and Natalie for a while before they all confronted Moonjumper.

His physical body is destroyed but a spare Dweller doll saves him.

actually a very nice guy in life, just had horribly bad luck.

Moonjumper:

we here with evil MJ, fuck MJ.

just a fucking arsehole and an all around bad person

Manipulated 2HT Vanessa into performing the ritual to bring him into the world, was angry at her for failing so he removed the veil and let her see what she had done before goading her into things which would probably get me banned.

Was openly responsible for Vanessa's mother's death, proceeded to desicrate the grave and blame a servant who was executed later that week.

uses his abilities to grant him more power in the great Subcon terf war, attempted to manipulate Natalie into doing his bidding and recruiting the toilet of doom. Gets angry when things go south and attempts to control her which fails because Luka has balls, Natalie ignores him and does her own thing.

Genuinly scared of how powerful a duo Caitlyn and Luka could be if they get pissed off enough and Vanessa's death at the hands of Caitlyn solidified that, struck a deal with Vincent to try and lure them into a trap.

When defeated is so angry he tares the Princess body apart in a fit of wild rage, he is later found by Vincent and to say things went poorly between the two would be an understatement.

Dwellers: all versions are chill, nothing much here.

Some 2HT Dwellers can actually talk.

Both 1HT and 3HT Snatcher have minions, the two groups hate each other and regularly get into violent brawls, its a bit unfair when your enemy has access to a teenage alien with enough guns to overthrow a small goverment.

#a hat in time #hat kid #ahit hat kid #ahit headcanons #ahit au #hat kid with a gun #ahit prototype #tim the ceo of time #the snatcher #snatcher #ahit vanessa #ahit queen vanessa #queen vanessa #moonjumper #ahit moonjumper #Moonjumper is a bastard #the three hats au #forest dweller

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hikayeplays · 1 year ago

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An introduction is perhaps necessary, I'm Hikaye and as a child I was forbidden from playing video games. Of course I disobeyed but my forays in the gaming world were bite and run, mostly a farming web game and some time spent on an old secret Nintendo DS with a cracked cartridge with the 12 dancing princess platform games and some other random ones. When I went to uni I got minecraft and then made a steam account and got the Sims 4, CKIII, TW:Warhammer and played them for a lot, a lot of hours just simply dicking around and having fun.

So I decided to just, learn how to game and so, having never touched an action game i got Dark Souls and bought my first controller. I figured that if I was to start I may have as well gotten gud from the start.

As time goes on I'll add more to the list, hoping to find good titles along the way:

1. 404Sight: done! 100% 6/10

2. Alice: Madness Return

3. Antenna: done! V cute! 5/10 100%

4. Arx Fatalis: DNF

5. Assassin's Creed: done! 8/10. holy hell Maria is a difficulty spike.

6. Assassin's Creed II

7. BE-A Walker

8. A Bird Story: 2/10 100%

9. Black Desert: DNF

10. Bloody Hell: done! 6/10

11. Buckshot Roulette: done! 7/10

12. Celeste

13. Crusader Kings III: 7/10

14. Dark Souls Remastered: in progress

15. Deadly Premonition the director's cut: in progress

16. Desperados wanted dead or alive: DNF

17. Destiny 2

18. Disfigure: done! 7.5/10

19. Doom 64: in progress

20. Dr. Langeskov, the tiger, and the terribly cursed emerald: done! 8/10 100%

21. Elden Ring: in progress

22. Frostrain: done! 100% 8/10

23. Half-Life 2

24. Half-Life: BLue Shift: DNF

25. Half-Life: Opposing Force

26. Hellblade: Senua's Sacrifice

27. Helltaker: done. 6/10 100%

28. Homefront: The Revolution

29. How Fish is Made: done, 1/10

30. Isop0dissey: done! 100%! 2/10

31. Lara Croft and the Guardian of Light: in progress

32. Left 4 Dead 2

33. LET IT DIE

34. Lofi Hotel

35. Mandagon: done! 7/10 100%

36. Martial Law: done. 6/10 100%

37. Maui: done! 6.5/10 100%

38. Metro 2033 Redux

39. Metro Last Light Redux

40. The Mirror Lied: done! 4/10

41. Monster Hunter: World: in progress

42. The Monster Inside: 100% 4/10

43. The Murder of Sonic the Hedgehog: done! 8/10

44. My Singing Monsters: 7/10

45. Pineapple on Pizza: 100%! 6/10

46. The plan. 100% 0/10

#gaming #so here is where it all starts #git gud #i guess

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malcolmschmitz · 10 months ago

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Hey, @lightdrizzel - I get where you're coming from, and it does suck how difficult it is to get anything remotely weird through traditional publication channels these days. But we are living in an absolute golden age for niche media-- you just have to look a little harder for it.

Like, okay. If we want to talk cartoons?

"Hullabaloo" is an indie steampunk web cartoon about a spunky adventuress with a tricked-out automobile. The animation style is classic Disney- which makes sense, the animation team is mostly Disney alumni- and it's got a fun adventure feel.

Betsy Lee's "No Evil" is an indie fantasy web cartoon loosely based on Mesoamerican mythology, set in a world reminiscent of the American Old West, with an anthropomorphic animal cast. The animation style is a bit anime and a bit furry.

"Sirenetta: Part-Time Mermaid" is an indie animated short film about a 'former mermaid princess' who has to save the ocean from a wicked witch; the animation style is reminiscent of 2000s 'girl cartoons', and the voice cast is largely made up of drag queens.

"Pride's Misfits" is an indie animated project about a girl who wants to become a demon hunter, with heavy influences from anime and from Indian culture. It's early in development, but it looks cool.

... and this is ignoring the indie stuff that everyone's heard of, like Lackadaisy, or Helluva Boss, or The Amazing Digital Circus. Or the artsy, depressing indie animation that lives in the film festival circuit.

Or, heck, you want to talk about video games? Ditch steam and check out itch.io instead. On the front page of my itch.io, not even looking particularly hard, I found:

"The flies' choreography amplifies my longing for the void. (Drawing down the moon)", which the creator describes as "A transcorporality prototype for cosmic omnicide." and seems to be an experimental horror game about perceiving the world as a bug.

"Buckshot Roulette", a game about playing Russian Roulette against a messed-up machine monster in an industrial nightmare world, casually risking your life for funsies.

"Sprout Valley", a cute lil life sim game in the vein of Animal Crossing- fix up an overgrown farm and furnish an island.

"Galactic Foodtruck Simulator 2999 (GFS2999)"- The Galaxy hungers. You own a food truck. Feed Everyone.

Again, that's not counting indie stuff that people have actually heard of- Fear and Hunger: Termina, Who's Lila, Touhou, and Baba Is You.

Listen. Mass media has always been dominated by dreck produced for the widest common denominator. The reason you're seeing less and less niche stuff get through mass media isn't that there's less niche stuff being made. It's that it's way, way easier to just publish your own niche stuff than it is to try to get it through a publisher. You get to keep total creative control and don't get all the hard, weird, jagged edges shaved off in the name of making it "more relatable".

If you want to find new stuff that's creative, and niche, and weird, and not sterilized or corporate, you have to go looking for it. But it's out there, and there's so much of it you couldn't get through it all in one lifetime.

Anyway speaking of niche indie media here's the Amazon page for my latest short story, about an autistic plague doctor veterinarian, unicorns, and cats:

But yeah, seriously. I promise, if you want to find the weird stuff, you'll find the weird stuff.

it's fucking me up how tv shows, movies, and even video games can't be "niche" content anymore

#on writing #niche media #i have seen this post cross my dash like five times now. i said nothing. i have too much to do #but by gum.#support indie artists #and authors #and cartoonists and musicians

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ginwhitlock · 4 years ago

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Southbound ch 1/ ch 2 / CH 3 : Null Wind

After the Cullens leave her behind, Bella is left to pick up the pieces by herself. A year after her eighteenth birthday, a split second decision lands her in her truck, running far away from everything she has ever known. She decides to go south. What will she find in San Angelo, Texas?

I’d never felt so warm.

The golden light streaming through the open windows heated up the room in a dry embrace. I could see the filtering haze over every piece of honey-lacquered furniture piece in the living room. Bookcases lined up and down the walls on either side of the front door, highlighting a sitting area around a hand-tooled turkish rug. The dining room to my immediate right looked unused but tidy. For some reason, the live oak table looked like it could comfortably seat four. Who else did Peter entertain?

A drawn-out wind carried through the windows. I’ve had to learn that Texas breeze is just that-- a breeze and nothing more. Had I not already had to endure the minimum eighty-five degree heat shield for the early majority of my life and not to mention the last two months, my jeans would feel like I was carrying steel wool up a mountain.

“Here Bell-- if I can call you Bell,” Peter started, arm still resting on the bronze door handle leading to the outside behind me, “go ahead and kick up your feet on the sofa and I’ll getcha somethin’ to simmer down this blasted heat.”

I could hear his wooden heels click on the tile as he retreated into what I could only assume to be the kitchen, being that the floor was formatted like a doll house. Walls dividing the arid space without exception.

Esme would have been horrified.

The thought of her heart-shaped face made my heart flip, the stoney exterior cracking and shifting in my chest. The brick wall I’ve put up started to claw its way out of my throat.

I slunk over to the dusty-looking brown chair in the corner, its position allowing me to see the front door and the kitchen opening to my right with ease. All my exits are straight-legged in front of me. If I bolted before he came back in, I could make it to the door handle in just enough time. But god, what would I do then? If the truck is on it’s last leg-- if on any legs at all-- I’m sure it's hardly worth a likely buckshot in the ass.

As my back pockets touched the softened hide my brain went into full overdrive.

What do you think WERE doing? We should be on the road, basting Lynard Skynard in some southwestern dry county, not act like you’re meeting a boy’s parents for THE SECOND TIME EVER! Do you not have any common sense? What would happen if Edwar--

“I hope you like sun tea.”

A rough-knuckled hand held out a glass filled to the brim with squared off iced cubes and murky brown liquid. The cup glittered with a department store shine.

They must’ve been his special ones. Guess no one gets guests out here.

My hand slowly reached out and took it, a tentative sip following, my fingers sliding on the chilled surface. It tasted like roses and honeysuckle, a contrast to the red dirt lining my soles and the open air around everything here.

It was only then that I realised he had taken off his hat.

His eyes were beautiful. Mahogany stained, hand-sanded, fired art. The swirling of reflective speckling nearest his pupils brought out the darkened freckles on his cheeks. His sandy blonde brows shaded his lashes in a trimmed fence line. Peter looked the part of a country, fair haired, Marlon Brando, and I realized in that moment my stare was reflecting in his eyes in a glass-like mirror. My brain swam to the surface, focusing on the change in his facade.

His mouth set in that same childish grin, matching his soft, playful features. “Again with the staring. Do you do much else darlin’?”

A beet red blush spread across my cheeks like margarine. I could feel the long forgotten heat spread down my neck and onto my chest.

As I was about to speak, something changed in his whiskey-soaked sightline. His almost boyish features hardened into a grimace. His hand fisted my own, setting the tea on the coffee table at the crease of his calves.

Finding my tongue growing heavy in my mouth I spoke, “Pe-ter is everything okay?” My eyes raced to his hand as it rose to his collar.

In an instant his face physically uncramped, the smile coming back to features, wolfier now more than ever. But his eyes gathered into slits in a humourless way.

“You just have such a pretty blush, Bell, you flush like a schoolgirl, ya know that?”

His voice came out hushed. Slow as molasses on a frigid winter afternoon. Like each word was a connecting jigsaw puzzle and he was looking for the next piece. In response, saliva ran down my throat like I had had a cold, the heat rising through the air and into my head. The knot in my stomach felt like it was tightening, closer and closer to snapping if he leaned any farther into my face.

A rogue wind blew through a set of copper windchimes on the front porch.

Peter’s stare disconnected as he rushed to pop open the button of his collar in a quick flick of his fingers. A true smile replaced the earlier one and spread over his upper lips and into his eyes. His mouth reminded me of a slow, murky river. The kind no one should go into without a life jacket. But the kids still try it, and all you hear is shouting from a town over, nothing coming from their mother’s lips but sobbing for the next forty-odd years.

“Oh lord-- sorry lil Bell, didn’t mean to get in yer space like that, the south winds here are just…” His voice hardened, “just wash somethin’ over the house… over me today.”

His feet, still clad with his cowboy boots, shifted around the stump of a table and to the couch he had mentioned before. It’s long back almost obscured the front door with his added height.

Without the coffee table, with our feet outstretched, we could’ve touched.

I calmed down my breathing enough to speak coherently, “No… I get it. Definitely… get it.” A swallow followed to bring the collection of spit back down.

Jesus Bella could you have gotten that out any less freaked out? Something is thoroughly wrong with this man PLUS whatever the hell ‘winds’ he’s talking about, you could very well be putting yourself in more danger than you ever had in Forks. He could be plotting to dump your body out in the desert for god sake.

Or he just thinks you’re pretty. Maybe this is just how cowboys act, huh? This could be what you’ve been wishing for for months, Bella. Some cowboy to take you away. Wait... how does that song go? A bastardized voice came from the back of my skull. The same sickly-sweet tone that turned off my blaring alarms around…

“So what brings you to San Ang?”, Peter rolled out, his feet landing on the table, his hands stretched out behind his fluffy blonde halo. A small sliver of pale skin could be seen right above his belt. I looked to the floor before answering, only adding to the stupid blush which hadn’t left.

“Just traveling. Relationship went bad. Could even say it nuked my life.”

The oddly reassuring nod from before came back in full force, a stark contrast from the baited silence he blew across my face what seemed like just moments before. If he tries something, what does it matter if I tell him the rest of the story? I sighed, my body curling forward to grab the glass again. “He just sort of left me. He took my heart with him, you know. For a year I wandered around my hometown, numb to my core, just looking for anything he left behind. I even had a friend try to pull me out of it. I think I ended up pushing him away before I left.

“So now I’m here. Came into Texas maybe a month and a half ago. Just followed the road signs,” My eyes snapped up to his, “there aren’t any on this road.”

Peter’s brows quirked up in a laughably adorable way-- am I really calling the potential nutbag adorable?

Almost as if he felt my mood change, he laughed. A full belly, hands on his chest, forehead wrinkled like the Sunday morning newspaper, laugh.

The sound eased away my present fear and outrage just a hair.

“My lil Bell-- don’t you get what private property means? You’re smack dab in the middle of abouta’ hundred acres of nothin’, missy. The mud you found yerself on was just a walkin’ trail through the land.”, Peter belted out, body leaning forward, his hands lowering to his knees.

My thoughts raced, but only one sentence formed in my mouth, its edges familiar window glass, “It’s Bella.”

A snort started his response, “C’mon. A little girl like you don’t wanna be referred to lika singin’ cartoony princess? You gotta be shittin’ me darlin.” He blew out a harsh stream of wind through his teeth. I could almost visualize him sitting on a porch somewhere spitting out peanut shells, dust coating the tops of his jeans.

“Listen I don’t need your sympathy or your criticism of my ability to navigate. I’ve been doing just fine on my own, just let me see a phone and I’ll get outta your hair.” My body became heated with a different kind of feeling, the anger rushing through me at his insult. I stood up, my jeans ripping away from the leather seat.

His form didn’t move an inch. His eyes rolled into his head and went to stare right back at me.

“Bell,” I pinched my eyebrows together at the nickname but he continued, “I’m not insultin’ ya, I’m proud that you got this far south on yer own two feet. I have to say I didn’t expect much from a girl sleepin’ in her own truck in the middle of some one-way backroad, but you’re surprising’ me in a lot of ways.” His eyes swept to the kitchen for a quick second.

“Oh and Bell, The nickname works. Trust me on it. It’s that voice of yers. Sounds like Christmas carolin.”

My face constricted in a dumb-found expression, the observation rattling me to my core. I’d never thought of my voice as anything other than dull compared to the Cullens. Some lifeless monotone of a teenage girl. His face looked sincere, the braziness fading behind his eyes. He looked even sweet as he said the last few words. Like there was a memory he wasn't sharing in between them.

I managed to get out soft ‘thank you’ as my anger faded to a null ache. My hands climbed up my hips to my collarbones as I held myself in a self-cradle.

I could almost hear a piece of the cement around my heart cracking in the nonexistent wind. I had left my light jacket in the truck, and yet, I felt as if I was hiding behind another barrier, a straight jacket around my collapsing sanity. Their memory, their mob horns tic home and their sing-song voices and their obviously faked investment into my life trying to weasel its way out.

“Sweetheart you’re rocking.”

Looking down at my posture I could see the slight sway to my stance, a mechanism I had developed just nights after He left me in the forest, Charlie had said it was a self soothing technique. I just thought it was proof that I may be actually losing my mind. “Oh, Sorry.” My legs brought me back down to my seat in a slow collapse.

His smile widened, his pearly-white teeth showing themselves off for the first time. I expected a crinkle to appear around his eyes, but it never did. I wondered what it did look like when the lines overcame his face in the night, what kind of beauty showed through when he was alone.

“Nothin’ to be sorry about Bell, I get what you’re doin’.”

I nodded my head, almost not present in the conversation. My eyes glued to my lap.

“And about that phone… I called my brother earlier, he’s on a huntin’ trip not far from here. He should be home soon and I’ll have him fix up your truck. No worries darlin’, no worries.” His hand found hovered over the bridge of my knuckles making my eyes drift up into his. I found a genuine kindness in them, and something else I couldn’t identify. Again, there was something about the words as they curled through his mouth. Like he knew something I didn’t.

Peter’s hand slowly retracted to his belt, the shine of the metal highlighted by a beam of sun through the windows. It bounced back onto his skin, creating a shimmer.

My thoughts captured that and put it into the back of my mind for later. “When is he gonna be back?”

A determined gleam sauntered into the quirk of his lip.

“Tonight my lil Bell, he’ll be back tonight.”

For some reason my stomach twisted at his words, and not just at the warm butterflies the nickname started to ignite.

#southbound #my writing #writing #twilight fanfiction #bella swan #peter whitlock #peter twilight #jasper hale #jasper whitlock #bella x jasper #bella swan x jasper hale #maybe some.....#peter x bella #mine #twilight fanfic #fanfiction #jasper/bella #peter/bella

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headoverhiddles · 5 years ago

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Matrimony - Pope x Reader (Let Me Make You A Martyr) [Part II]

Synopsis: Tensions rise with Pope, but you both have a common goal. Or, you believe it to be common.

Notes: Second part of three! Enjoy loves.

Tagging: (ask to be added) @peachynun @elrosew @livelifewondering

PART I

PART III

You wake to the sound of your alarm. 5:30 am.

You get out of bed, and pull on your jogging clothes. A run should clear your head. On the way down, you sneak one more look into Pope's bedroom. You can't see much through the dark, but the bed looks empty. He must be downstairs skulking around somewhere, unless he enjoys a nice refreshing jog before the sun comes up... which you doubt.

Out on the path, the sun starts to rise through the pine trees. You jog along the road that you arrived on, smart enough not to jog in the direction of Pierce's cabin alone. Slipping your earbuds in, you listen to Marilyn Manson's Odds of Even, the thunk of the beat in time with your steps.

You’re not thinking about Pope that way. You’re just interested in him. Interested in the idea of him. He’s an interesting man! Who... you’re interested in.

So, you've got feelings for Pope.

Not feelings, per say, but... an intrigue. And there's definitely a physical attraction there, though you can't tell if he returns it. Probably not. Sex and romance probably weren't even blips on his radar. All he probably thinks about is killing people, disposing of their corpses swiftly and without hassle, and jacking off when and if he feels lonely.

You bite your lip. Damn, that's hot to imagine. Why do you always fall for people who either hate you, want to kill you, or just plain aren't nice?

If you even mess up a little on this hit though, he'll kill you. Literally. He will not hesitate to take you out as well if you fuck up. But you're not going to fuck up. You may not be a hitman, but you deal with creeps like Daegland Pierce all the time in your job. You know how they think, and that's an advantage Pope doesn't have.

You return to the cabin, breathing heavily. A thin sheen of sweat covers you, and you look around. Isn't there a river somewhere near here?

You approach the rushing brook, grateful for the already cool mist rising from it. You peel off your top and bra, and do the same for your shorts and panties. There's no one out here in the brush, so you don't have to worry about that.

You toss your stuff on a nearby log, and get into the stream. Oh yeah. Yeah. That's nice. You float for a moment, staring up at the sky and listening to the birds. Then you hear another noise. A much closer noise.

You get your ears out of the water, and listen... then you nearly drown in fear as you hear a loud thwack right behind you. Whipping around, you turn to see--

"Holy shit!" you scream.

"Morning," Pope says. He brings an axe down on another piece of wood.

"I'm...! Oh my god, you didn't say anything, you--"

"Well," he pushes up his glasses, "I figured I wouldn't bother you in your morning activities, and you won't bother me in mine." He gestures to you with the handle of his axe. "You do have some pretty tits, though."

"Jesus fuck," you whisper, covering your chest. "Don't... look!" Pope shrugs, and goes back to splitting wood. "Why are you even out here?!" you demand, trying to swim back to the shore inconspicuously.

"I'm sorry, is this restricted land? Do I require a fuckin’ permit?"

"You-- just, what are you doing?!"

"It's cold at night here," he mutters, "And any sensible person would seek warmth during the dark hours."

"Excuse me?!"

"You're excused, you know I don't mean whoring around with you."

"Right. If I came into your bedroom at night, opened up my bra and sat on the edge of your bed, you'd tell me to fuck off?"

Pope smirks. "Aww. Princess doesn't like the thought of that, does she?" You gasp, crossing your arms. You stop crossing your arms when it's apparent that just makes your boobs look even better. "Look, kid. Unlike you, I didn't come out here to screw around. I came here to kill a motherfucker, and get paid. That's what I do, that's what I intend to do."

It's futile arguing with him, and any headway you made tolerating each other last night at dinner (however small) had now been wiped clean. You'd show your worth on your own-- and you've got nothing to prove. Not much, anyway. There is zero part of you that wants any validation from Pope at all. Or praise. Or a... a "good girl." A "good... good little girl... yeah, babygirl, just like that..."

Shit.

---

"Do not make one wrong step. He can't know we're here."

You follow closely behind Pope, trying to get his attention.

"Hey. Hey! Why are we doing this now? Why don't we wait until--?"

"You have to get to know everything about a person's environment before you kill them. You need to know any possible traps they've set up, any kind of security or backup they've hid up their ass."

"B--"

"Stop speaking, no speaking. Shh. For once, shhh." He holds up a hand, then when he's sure the coast is clear, he beckons. "Follow me."

You do. He points to the other side of the house, but you're already ahead of him, back to the painted wooden panels. It's a better looking cabin than yours, obviously furnished and newly renovated with millions of dollars in dope cash that should've gone to home growers like the business you work for.

You snake around the back of the house, and check the window. It's cracked open an inch. Looking around, you push it open a bit farther, and carefully, ever so silently, you climb in. Pope is already in the house, in the living room. He's got his back pressed to the wall, and his head tilted to look up the stairs.

You're about to turn to check the kitchen, when you feel something in your back. You turn slowly, preparing to meet the barrel of a gun and your untimely demise, but you just find the end of a dirty wooden spoon in a soapy pot.

"Oh," you breathe, putting a hand on your chest. You hear a gun cock at the back of your head.

"What the fuck you doing in my house?" You look behind you, and maneuver around. It's him. It's Daeg. And he's in his bathrobe.

"Hi!" you suddenly say, the first thing popping into your head the option you're going with. "You must be the neighbor!"

"What?" Pierce growls.

You wave to Pope, who's staring at you with some mix of contempt and confusion. "Honey, come here!"

"What the...?" Pierce mutters, and points the gun at Pope as he reluctantly walks over to join you. "Who are you people?!"

"We just moved into the cabin next to yours! We're Mr. and Mrs... Warner!" You pick a name off the top of your head. You grab Pope's hand, and the death grip you get back tells you he's not in support of this tactic. But, there's no going back now.

"Yeah," he grumbles, "This is my wife. Ain’t she a sweet little piece of ass?"

You give a giggle for good measure, tightening your grip on his hand in warning, and this guy looks so utterly dumbfounded, it's hard not to laugh.

"I'm gonna ask you this again, you stupid shits. What the FUCK are you doing in my HOUSE?!"

"Looking for sugar," you say.

Pope falls into his role. "Yeah. My wife here was... baking."

"I tried to tell him he gets enough sugar at home, but he wouldn't listen, the scoundrel!" You slap him lightly on the arm.

"Well. Just can't get enough of the girl. But that river flows both ways, don't it?"

You shudder slightly, but keep your smile up. Then it hits you. Ingredients... baking! You know just how you can get put of here without an ass full of this guy’s buckshot!

"Now, the reason we found your place, was..." you move in a little closer to Pierce, "I was looking for a certain kind of ingredient. If you know what I mean."

The man's demeanor changes. He looks around, tucks his gun. "How do y'all know about that?"

You wink. "I know lots of things."

"Now, sweetheart." Pope tugs you back, a little too roughly. "Remember to be modest. At least for my sake." His hand travels down to your ass, and you bite your lip.

"Of course, honey. Of course."

Is he getting a little too into his role?

---

You both can't believe you were able to make nice with Pierce long enough to get out of his house. It was a life-saving idea, but it also posed a problem. The two of you had been invited back for dinner the next night, to supposedly buy some of his ‘stock’.

"It's perfect! That's when we kill him!" you hiss, as Pope walks ahead of you through the bramble.

"The tone of this whole thing is fucked up. It’s not right. This isn't how things work."

"What, not used to having a fake wife along for the hit? A little imagination can save your life."

"Don't talk to me about life," he mutters, "I'm ready to end yours."

"Yeah. Fine. Threaten to kill me."

"Oh, I'm not just threatening."

"At least we didn't get shot to bits by the most notorious drug dealer in the American midwest."

"I do things my way," he replies calmly, "I don't need a little brat like you telling me how it's gonna be." You ball your fists and beat against a tree. He's infuriating!

"Will you at least show me how to cut the wood you were chopping this morning? You're right, we should stock up." He looks back at you, that same indifferent expression back on his face.

"You chose to come out here and bother me. Make yourself scarce, or I swear to God or whatever the fuck, I'll drive you out to the middle of the woods and leave you for the wolves."

With that, he walks inside, screen door banging.

You sit down on a log by the car. After a minute, you get up, start the car with the keys on the seat, and turn the radio up.

More honkey tonk wailing. Whatever. Maybe country was good for the soul, and all that.

You lay down on the log, and watch the forest flora sway around you as Hank Williams croons through the open air.

---

You open your eyes. It's dark out.

The car radio is still going, and you're not sure quite what time it is.

You hear footsteps behind you, and look up to see Pope walking over to the car. You sigh, rubbing your eyes and waiting for his complaints. "Sorry," you murmur, "I should've turned it off before I--"

"It's fine," he cuts you off curtly, and you give up trying to explain yourself, waiting for him to disappear again. This was such a mistake. Coming out here with him, wanting to be a part of this. You wanted to see the job done, sure, but maybe you are out of your depth. Christ, the guy is an expert sharpshooter, with the lack of mercy of a navy seal and the personality of a hermit. It's time to give up.

You look up again when you don't hear the door close. He pauses, walks over to you, and sits down. He takes his cigarettes out of his shirt pocket, puts one in his mouth, and lights it. He tilts his head up to look at the stars, and takes his glasses off, setting them down beside him.

"C'mere," he whispers. You sit up, frowning, and follow his line of sight. You inch closer to him in confusion, and settle in next to him to watch the sky too. He takes another drag of his cigarette, the embers glowing in the low light. You find the scent of him, along with his presence out here, comforting.

The night bugs grow in volume around you, and soon, you begin to hear coyotes in the distance.

"They're beautiful," you murmur. He hums.

"They’re dangerous."

"Like someone else I know," you whisper. If he hears you, he doesn't let on. He just exhales smoke toward the sky, and listens to the noises of the night. His voice, low and gravelly, rises above the sounds.

"You ever heard of a Wendigo, kid?"

"No," you tell him.

"It's an old legend my grandfather told me. He says there are skinwalkers out here in the forest. They can shapeshift, take the form of whatever they want. Animals, people. Strangely odd. Just a little too odd to be considered human."

"You think those coyotes are skinwalkers?" you ask softly.

"Nah. The only things here pretending to be something they're not are you, and me."

---

You wake up in bed, not quite certain how you got there. It's still nighttime... you don't know exactly what time it is, but you don't want to reach for your phone. You stare out the window for a minute, and frown. The scenery outside doesn't look quite right, like it’s too foggy to see.

There's a slight creak in one of the floorboards, and you see a shadow eclipse the dim lantern light from the hallway.

You roll over in bed, and see Pope standing by the door. He hasn't got his glasses on, and his hair looks a little messed up, as if he's been sleeping.

"What is it?" you mumble, trying to sit up, "Something with Pierce? Did he... is everything okay?" Confusion fills you as he walks toward you, but it's replaced by desire with every step closer he takes. He looks like he's been kept awake by something. "Pope?"

"Shh." He sits down, making an indent in the comforter. "I want you, sweetheart."

You breathe out, and after a second, you lean forward slowly. He meets you halfway, reinforcing the kiss, and you moan softly against his lips. His hand comes up to cup your cheek, and he lays you down, resuming the kissing once he's got you against the pillows. "Couldn't get you outta my mind," he whispers, "Couldn't get this... outta my head."

"This feels strange," you murmur, "You hate me."

He doesn't respond, just moves a hand down beneath the covers to stroke between your legs. An exhaled prayer of his name falls from your lips, and he presses a kiss to your chest, tongue swiping out every so slightly. You look down at him again, and reach out, starting to unbutton his shirt, all the way down. With each button, more tattoos are revealed, even though they appear blurry to you, as if your mind is trying to fill them in for you. Must be the dark.

"You're so fucking sexy," he whispers, and pushes your panties aside.

"Please," you beg.

"Let me give you what you need, baby girl. That's it." He looks into your eyes with his own dark orbs. "Trust me now?"

Your chest rises and falls quicker as he adds another finger, rolling your clit with his thumb as he pumps in and out. He's making soft noises as he does, grinding his erection into your thigh on the bed. You start to gasp as you feel your orgasm coming on.

"I'm... P... Pope, oh god, I'm... c-c--"

He strokes you just right with those rough fingers, and just as you come undone, your eyes open.

Pope is gone. You're alone, in bed. You stare at the headboard, realizing you're on your stomach. Shit, you've been grinding into the mattress. You regain a little more consciousness, the events of your dream all fresh in your mind.

Giving a disoriented moan, you flip over, lying on your back. Your hips wiggle, and you tug down your panties, dipping your own fingers into your soaking wet heat. You didn't think he had this kind of effect on you.

You moan to yourself softly as you quickly curl your fingers in a hurried motion, hips arching slightly. Yeah... yeah, like that. You gasp, and finally cum hard thinking of Pope on top of you like that, kissing you, touching your body, sending you over the edge.

You come down to earth, head spinning in the cold, dark bedroom. You can hear soft snores from the other room. He must have brought you upstairs and put you in your bed before turning in. If any of that outside was real. What if that was part of the dream?

No. You can still smell the faint scent of Pope's lingering cigarette smoke on your jacket, which is still on. You shake your head, taking it off and tossing it on a chair across the room. All you need is a good night's rest.

#pope x reader #pope let me make you a martyr #let me make you a martyr #marilyn manson #marilyn manson x reader #brian warner #brian hugh warner #brian warner x reader #reader x marilyn manson #reader x brian warner #reader x pope #marilyn manson fanfiction #marilyn manson fandom #mansonite #mansonites #marilyn manson imagine #marilyn manson imagines

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shadowproxy22 · 5 months ago

Note

*Shadow blushes some more at the mention of buckshot*

Yeah, he does watch over me. I mean, I’m not a princess or anything. It’s just something princess Celestia tasked him with doing.

And Warden just mainly watches over all the prisoners under his care. Some minor ones like thieves, or pickpockets. On a rare occasion he does get someone who was an actual threat to Equestria.

*There’s a faint blue glow coming from Abe’s office, when Abe looks in he’s in for quite a shocking site pony with a horn and wings*

Hello? Anypony here?

*The strange creature seems to be levitating a small blue crystal next to them, and is admitting a light from their horn*

Abe was in the middle of taking a swish from a bottle of whisky when he saw the horse. “Oh that definitely enough now.” He closed the bottle and looked at the pong in question.

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valorxdrive · 4 years ago

Note

1, 7, 9 for the character questions

1. Death is an inevitable part of life. What is your character’s experience with death? Have they had someone close to them die? Have they ever killed someone? How did these events affect them? Have they been able to move on? What do they believe happens to people when they die? And why? How does your character feel about death? Do they feel at ease, or uncomfortable with the idea of dying?

For Sora, the concept of death gained a much more intimate meaning once he found himself forcefully venturing from the world of Destiny Islands. During the more sensitive years of his childhood it was known in passing for people but much more when it comes to animals. Food that he eats, pets of friends that passed on and in more rare instances the grandparents of said friends, the true impact of it had never struck deep at this point.

At best it remained a distant fear, a wary subject as he understood that death was meant to be avoided for himself, the people he cares for and all for his island home in general.

Fast forward to the days of when he becomes a wielder of the Keyblade and it changes exponentially. His first days upon Traverse Town and he practically watches the heart of some poor sucker get ripped clean from the chest. Death was both wielded by his hand and constantly drawing it’s cold edges upon his neck through ever possible attack made by the foot soldiers of darkness to actual people. Heartless managed to hold less of a critical dent in terms of slaying them. They were unnatural forces of one’s heart, some malevolent energy given form, his conscious hadn’t suffered nowhere as much in knowing he’s slaying beast compared to flesh and blood humans.

Skip forward a bit more and now he’s doing exactly that. For Sora the first kill (even if he hadn’t brought down the final strike) would be against Clayton from Tarzan’s world. He’s both sustained a more naturally made injury through buckshot and also come to see a human drawn into depravity basically get crushed before his eyes. For my interp this specific end had led Sora to be sleepless for days on end. It was the first genuine lesson in holding the weight of a life within his hands. Despite how despicable, how deplorable and just plain sick they were in their goals, it never changed who he did vanquish in order to save a world.

It was through these same intense feelings of both knowing the loss of life deeper than before, to let that blood be on his hands, at the same time come understand the crucial aspect in protecting it had allowed Cure magic to be fostered in the depths of his heart.

Sora genuinely needed time and the support of others during that time, from Jane, Tarzan alongside of Donald and Goofy to help pick himself back up on his feet. While it was never truly solved nowhere close to completion, they managed to instill the resolve through both reasoning of why he did fight, what he was also continuing to fight for in order to give him the strength to continue.

In the aftermath of the first he found the aspect while chilling, understandable in the cases where it has been performed. By no means does he EVER resort to killing as the first option when endless alternatives can come to be.

Follow through the journey of Kingdom Hearts and it’s witnessed that he’s never two steps away from it. From slaying Heartless, battle with Organization XIII and coming to learn of Nobodies, Sora lives a life of peril and this element he’s come to accept if he intends to truly make things right. In a way the more he’s come to refine the art in the name of necessity, he’s grown to be substantially desensitize to people drawing the worst of their powers and weaponry in order to tear him apart. He’s not ignorant to fear, he simply gained the courage to keep a strong and steady heart in the face of such adversity.

In terms of having those close to him die? Yes and no. Sora’s previously conceived ideas throughout his adventures that through death, you come to create a Heartless and Nobody is given a hard shake of truth. Somehow this is just some wayward method of reincarnation if you get slayed by either a Heartless or torn through with a Keyblade. The real path to death does exist as he’s come to learn within The Final World. Through the guidance of Chirithy he’s come to learn about how you can even face oblivion down to a conceptual state. Him alongside all the Guardians really could’ve bit the dust.

For Sora this was a point in his life while he needed the strength to go on, he’s faced an incredible abyss of despair. Even with the foreknowledge that a certain someone was keeping him and herself tethered to reality, the fact they’ve been torn apart down to these spiritual remnants deeply disturbed him. However facing the brunt of all that would do more harm then good at this time. While a chance hung in the balance, he needed hope and belief to bring himself back onto his feet, to bring him back up even as death’s kiss remained a fraction away from claiming him and all of his friends. Receiving this harsh lesson truly emboldened his selfishness when it comes to prevent death from befalling those that he cares for if it’s within his power.

This is what leads him to outright abusing the Power of Waking. He didn’t have to think twice on the idea of giving them a second chance of life if it’s within his power. Beyond that? There was a whole universe that also hung in the balance, newly made friends he knew were going to be next on the chopping block of the keyblade war. It would be the Princesses of Heart next upon Xehanort’s list and he refused to let these abominable acts to continue.

On one hand while he has obtained a degree of courage to face death directly within it’s eyes. His fear hadn’t went away, he doesn’t want to lose his life any earlier then he has too. If the motto of an ‘Eye for an eye’ reaches out in the name of saving another however, he won’t hesitate. If Sora knows there’s a method where there isn’t no sacrifice involved to save another, he’ll instantly go for it. However like in the case of Kairi, if this dangerous, volatile if used wrong power is the only way to ensure to can continue living on?

He’s going to face any price to ensure you’re okay.

In the end he accepts that with life, there is also death, he’s simply in the park that people can live long and happy lives before having to make peace with that part of living. As it currently stands he feels incredibly uncomfortable at the idea of dying when there’s so much to live for. This is a big reason too as to why he fights.

#blackasteriia #| Bottle Mail #| HCs #| Meme #GINA I CAN'T DROP A MEGA WORDBOMB OUT HERE. lol #I might have to take in one number a time per post with these #death tw

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saidelia-draconis · 5 years ago

Note

Write Saidelia as a hunter! 🔄

A gentle gloam played across the extended branches of the trees in the still air. The evening breeze swept through the brush, taking leaves and leaving the rattle of bushes in its wake. Alone, the hooded woman slipped through fronds and grass, seeking concealment with each quiet gust. She slid a finger through the mud, testing for the density of the earth. The tracks she had been following were fresh, the ground soft and pliable.

She kneeled in a bush, watchful stare focused upwind towards her quarry. She could nearly hear the words that she had heard ad nauseam from when she was a girl. “Leave no trace.” The pathfinder flitted into the next overgrowth when the wind took up once again, stalking like a mongoose. Her pale blue eyes periodically swept through the forest, behind, ahead, above, lateral, ahead. The lessons of the Silver Covenant had not been lost on her. She was methodical in her approach, expecting nothing less than her goal.

She continued to slip her way through the woodland until the wispy bellows of smoke tumbled overhead. She cast her eyes upwards, scowling. What little coverage there was in the clearing was thin, and did not lend itself to a vantage. She would make do. She crept silently to the edge of the clearing, drawing up a mottled green hood over her visage, peering out through the bottom of if, chin hidden by a thin layer of muck. Four. The party had set up camp for the night, under the cover of the trees, trying to cross the border. The woman stared impassively. She recognized no borders, no jurisdiction.

Saidelia watched silently as they drank, a roughly-butchered stag on the spit they had created. The best was enormous, its body riddled with the marrings of buckshot. She seethed silently, fingers playing along the curve of a bow slung across her back. Soon. She spent what felt like an eternity watching as they carried on. The largest of the group, a brutish-looking Orc with a crooked grin finishing off the last of his third tankard. He patted his pelvis, uttering something she didn’t quite care to listen to, slinking off to the tree cover. Her eyes lit up.

She slipped seamlessly from thicket, to path, to tree as she pursued him further and further into the overgrowth, just at the end of the firelight, wreathed in shadows. At last, he finally stopped, gazing at a tree as he started to clutch his mail links at the hem of his tunic. The woman recognized her chance. She palmed a stone, tossing it towards the far side of the man. He paused, glancing towards the source of the disturbance. He whistled softly, trying to draw out whatever he thought had made the noise. Silence. He scowled. Shortly thereafter, another stone landed in the bed of leaves, another rustle. Slightly alarmed, the orc slung his gun off of his shoulder, wandering out towards where the stones had landed.

“Whatever you are, you’re about to be in pieces.”

With his back turned, Saidelia leapt up from her hiding place, nocking an arrow. With a whoosh, it hurtled forward, felling him instantly. He slumped down into the brush, bleeding. Saidelia slunk to his side, ensuring his end and collecting his gun from the ground. She inspected it for a moment, grinning. A short ways away, she took aim, firing off into the night. She heard what was left of the party arguing beside the fire.

“What in the fuck does he think he’s doing? Does he understand what quiet means?”

“You know he’s an orc, right?”

“Don’t get cute with me, kiddo. If he draws attention to us, you’re as fucked as I am.”

After a few moments, and some fresh powder, Saidelia fired another shot towards nothing, hearing the markedly more irate now-trio arguing. She could discern the impatient cadence and accent of a goblin, and the coarse, gravelly dialect of a forsaken woman.

“Fucking… How does he screw up taking a piss! Go quiet him down!”

“Piss off. You just said I’m as important as you. Do it yourself.”

“I said we’ll all die if we’re discovered. I’m important. You don’t have a damned idea where we’re going. I’m also the only mook here who doesn’t know how to shoot if he’s in trouble.”

“Fucking princess…”

The woman shouldered her rifle, wading through the flora, searching for the cause of the disturbance. She seemed much more adept at her role than the ranger’s first quarry. Saidelia scaled a nearby tree as swiftly as she could, perching above the orc and watching. She huddled up on the branch, looking not unlike a growth of leaves. Her keen eyes watched as the unliving woman managed to isolate the orc’s position in a matter of minutes. She leaned down, performing the assessment she needed to determine his fate. She stiffened up, making ready to call out.

“Pathf–”

Before she could finished, the scout pounced, knives out. The other woman broke her fall. They tumbled down into the dirt. With the upper hand, Saidelia slashed across the chain links in her armor, accomplishing little. The woman’s rifle laid beside the two, along with the orc’s. Without conventional weapons, she swung her fetid claws at Saidelia, attempting to rend her. The scuffle lasted seconds, Saidelia finally managing to silence the forsaken with her dagger. She laid motionless beside the orc.

At the camp, what little of her message had reached the remaining two. The goblin ran towards one of the pitched tents, quickly kicking it over, his voice growing shriller, with obvious signs of panic.

“Get up you fat, lazy prick! We’ve got a pathfinder up our ass!”

A hobgoblin slowly crawled out of the remains of his tent, glancing around with a dull, empty expression. It silently hefted a massive club, wandering off in the direction that the goblin had indicated their fellows had been. Saidelia had hardly watched as she set about with setting a variety of traps as quickly as possible. Wires, claws, poisons, and all. What little she had gotten up was only half-ready by the time the brute lumbered towards her location. She slipped away silently, waiting with bated breath to see what was to happen next.

Shortly after the lumbering oaf had stomped through the trees, she heard the snap of a bear trap, accompanied by the piteous moan of the simpleton. When she peered out of her hiding place, it was attempting to dislodge itself from a bear trap. She smirked, taking pride in her quick work. She fished a few darts out of a bag, tipped with spider’s venom, tossing them into its leathery hide.

She left the giant to its unpleasant fate as she slipped from the shadows, pointing to the goblin. The terrified little man made a desperate break for it, receiving an arrow through his calf. He howled in pain, collapsing to the ground as Saidelia rolled him onto his back, knee on his sternum. One hand held his wrists while the other bound him. They gazed into each other’s eyes with mutual contempt. The goblin spat at her.

“Sadistic bitch! Who are you? Who sent you? Whatever they’re paying, I’ll double it! I’ll triple it! Whatever it takes to let me go!”

She lifted the goblin to his feet, throwing him on his face at the feet of the table. On it, an enormous stag trophy. Its antlers were larger than the man, its majestic visage frozen in horror. She drove him into the dirt again.

“No… No, no, no, no. Please… It’s just a stupid moose. It wasn’t like it was useful to anyone! Come on, have a heart!”

“You cannot weasel your way out of this affront. Let the forest claim you.”

(Thank you, @madame-miersae!)

#Writing #Asks #Prompts

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sceptilemasterr · 6 years ago

Text

MW Act 1, Scene 6 - Analysis

Title: Most Wanted: The Hollywood Killer (A CIU Screenplay)

Main Pairings: Dave x Sam

Other Pairings: N/A

Genre: Full Rewrite

Rating: PG-13 for violence, blood, swearing, alcohol, and sexuality

Summary: While talking to the crime lab’s eccentric trio, Sam and Dave learn more about Tull... and each other.

Previous Scene: The Other Case

Masterlist: Link

INT. L.A.P.D. STATION - CRIME LAB - NIGHT

The crime lab is a scene best described as “organized chaos.” Pop music blares from a speaker sitting at the workstation of a man with short black hair, glasses, and a blue cardigan, spinning idly in his chair. This is NIKHIL MANTHA, forensic specialist. Opposite him at another workstation is a man with messy brown hair and a patterned sweater, gritting his teeth in annoyance as he stares at his computer screen; this is REZA FASSIHI, data analyst.

HAYLEY ROSE (ON SPEAKER) (singing): Sirens flickering in your tail lights, your long-lost love’s your only flaw...

REZA: Nikhil, can we please turn that off? This wasn’t a good song four years ago, and it’s still not good now!

NIKHIL: But that’s the point! Pop princess Hayley Rose experimenting with a contrived club album with a hokey country twist? “Outlaw” is incredible in its American awfulness.

REZA: How does that make any sense?!

As the music plays in the background while they continue, the third occupant of the room ignores their argument entirely. MIRASOL BAUTISTA, criminal profiler and psychoanalyst, sits at her own workstation, frowning at whatever she is reading on the screen. She wears a white blazer and has her dark hair tied back into a bun.

NIKHIL: ...it isn’t my fault your tastes are embarrassingly mainstream-

MIRASOL (muttering): The contrarian hipster act, clearly a false front meant to get on people’s nerves. Typically seen in those with low self-esteem and-

NIKHIL: Ouch. I heard that, Mirasol.

MIRASOL: Oh, I know.

The door swings open, and Sam and Dave enter. Sam blinks in surprise at the music. Dave doesn’t bat an eye as he strides up to Nikhil’s workstation and hits the power button.

DAVE (deadpan): Oops.

NIKHIL: Hey! Excuse me, Dave, we were listening to that-

REZA: Correction: you were listening to that.

NIKHIL: Mirasol secretly enjoyed it!

MIRASOL: Excuse me, what?! I will murder you, Nikhil.

REZA: She’s not kidding, Nikhil. You weren’t here for the time she brought a live grenade to work, but-

DAVE: Look, as entertaining as this conversation is, right now, we’ve got a killer to catch. And more importantly, we’ve got company.

Mirasol, Nikhil, and Reza all look up and notice Sam for the first time.

DAVE: This is Sam Massey, U.S. Marshal. Massey, meet the Three Stooges. That’s Reza, our data analyst and resident computer nerd.

REZA (frowning): “Nerd?” Excuse you, Dave, I’m a data analyst and digital security consultant and a moderator for the Crown and the Flame official fansite... Okay, I may be a ‘computer nerd.’

Sam nods, clearly not understanding most of what Reza is talking about.

SAM: ...Pleasure.

DAVE: Over there is Nikhil, forensic analyst and card-carrying hipster.

NIKHIL: Nice to meet you, Marshal. I have to say, this ‘thing’ you’re doing with your outfit? Talk about defying the mainstream L.A. look with your rough-and-tumble style. Such a middle finger to the masses.

Sam crosses her arms, frowning.

SAM: I’m not trying to do a “thing.”

NIKHIL: Exactly, right? Everyone else is always trying too hard. But you get it!

SAM: Uh...

Dave shakes his head in amusement before moving on.

DAVE: Anyway, the cheerful one over there is Dr. Bautista, our criminal profiler and psychoanalyst.

MIRASOL: Just call me Mirasol. These two clowns don’t go by fancy titles, why should I?

SAM: I can respect that.

DAVE: Right, well, that’s the introductions. So, what have you all got for us?

NIKHIL: Perfect timing, actually. I’ve just finished my initial run-through of the forensics. Don’t have much to work with, but I was able to analyze those bullet casings you found, plus the autopsies and ballistics.

SAM: Let’s hear what you’ve got. I’ve got a hunch I want confirmed.

They walk over to Nikhil’s workstation. Nikhil swivels in his chair to face them.

DAVE: How’s it look?

NIKHIL: The autopsy and ballistics reports indicate an abdominal wound from a sawed-off shotgun, fired from approximately three feet away. Casings confirm standard double-aught buckshot. (shakes head) Can’t have been pretty.

SAM: Point-blank, straight to the gut. Tull’s specialty, the sick bastard.

DAVE: Anything else?

NIKHIL: Well, I’ve got an educated guess on the type of shotgun he used. It’s hard to tell for sure, but from what we could get from the camera footage, I’d say an old-school Easton 850, sawed-off.

SAM: Wait. Did you say an Easton 850?

NIKHIL: Why, does that mean something to you?

Sam gets a faraway look in her eyes, staring at a point on the wall. She says nothing for a long moment. Finally, she shakes her head and turns away.

SAM: No. You just... don’t see those every day.

From her station, Mirasol watches Sam with a calculating look. Dave notices and walks over to her, Sam following.

DAVE: Dr. Bautista, what do we have?

MIRASOL: I’ve told you not to call me that.

DAVE (smirks): Why do you think I keep doing it?

Mirasol rolls her eyes and turns away from him, facing Sam.

MIRASOL: Beckham had your file sent over, Massey. Frequent physical altercations. Questionable use of force. Repeated altercations... fascinating stuff.

SAM: Alright, alright. Let’s cut to the chase. What have you got?

MIRASOL: Let’s see... Propensity for violence and hot-headedness, such as when you brought in a fugitive with multiple broken bones. Then the report of you telling a fugitive with hostages to, and I quote: “Grow a backbone, dirtbag.”

NIKHIL: Ooh, I want that on a shirt.

MIRASOL: And then there’s the raid on the New Flores Cartel, where the massive property damage perfectly showcases your flagrant disregard for-

SAM: Okay, okay, we get the idea! Lemme rephrase: what have you got on Tull?

MIRASOL: Oh, don’t worry. I’ve already put together his profile too, or at least a preliminary one from what little we know.

DAVE: Perfect. Let’s hear it.

MIRASOL: He’s a hired killer, but he’s brutal when he doesn’t need to be, even when it makes his job harder. Clearly enjoys inflicting pain. He’s clever but unstable, with textbook signs of egocentrism, obsessive behavior, and possible narcissism.

DAVE (sarcastically): This guy just gets better and better.

SAM: Anything else?

MIRASOL: Just that... look. I’m not easily disturbed; hell, I read the profiles of psychopaths for a living. Sometimes even for fun. But this guy... he scares me.

Sam nods in understanding.

SAM: Then we just gotta be scarier.

She turns away from Mirasol and heads over to Reza’s station, Dave following close behind. As she approaches, Reza springs awkwardly to his feet, accidentally knocking over his chair as he offers an excited handshake.

REZA: Wow, a Texas Marshal, surrounded by L.A. glitz and glamour! Love it! The fish-out-of-water thing is a classic trope in the industry, y’know.

Sam shakes his hand, looking puzzled.

SAM: The... data analysis industry?

REZA: What? No, the entertainment industry! I’m also an aspiring screenwriter, you know.

NIKHIL: Emphasis on the ‘aspiring’ part. He’s never actually finished a script.

REZA: Shut up, Nikhil! Anyway, my point is that I’m a bit of a film buff.

SAM: Huh. Sounds like that might come in handy in this town.

REZA: Yeah, I know, it’s not really... wait, what?

SAM: Hey, from what I’ve seen, Hollywood’s a special kind of crazy. Might help to have someone who speaks the language.

REZA: Ha! Boom! How’s that defeat taste, Nikhil? Someone actually appreciates me for once!

Nikhil groans and rolls his eyes as Reza picks his chair back up and sits down.

REZA: And speaking of ‘Hollywood’ and ‘crazy,’ by the way, I’ve pulled up some info on the main victim.

DAVE: Gavin? Could be a lead. But what about Tull?

REZA (frowning): Not much. From what I can tell, he surfaced suddenly about a year ago as a paid killer. Other than that, I could barely find anything.

SAM (frowning): What do you mean he ‘surfaced suddenly?’ Where the hell was he before that?

REZA: It’s the weirdest part of this whole thing. Far as I can tell, he emerged from thin air last year. His first kill happened in rural Montana, and before that... the guy just vanishes.

DAVE: Fake name, maybe?

REZA (shakes head): Nothing I can find. But I’ll keep looking. Gavin, on the other hand... with how much he’s posted about himself online, the guy practically did my job for me.

Reza swivels his monitor. Sam and Dave look at the screen, which is displaying a celebrity blog site titled “Dirty Hollywood.”

REZA: His personal blog is plenty already, but the real interesting part is this one. “Dirty Hollywood.” It’s a celeb gossip blog, and with the things he’s posted, he’s made quite a few enemies.

SAM: Could lead us to whoever hired Tull.

DAVE: Agreed. So, who’s on the list of Gavin’s potential enemies, then?

REZA: Honestly? Literally everyone he’s posted about. I can list all of them for you, but we’d be here all day-

DAVE: Give us the three most likely, then. Anything in the past week or so

REZA: Well, let’s see... he leaked some emails from screenwriter Josh Neely, exposing him as a plagiarist.

DAVE: Hold on. I spotted Neely on the tape, just before the murder. He was arguing pretty fiercely with Gavin!

Sam raises her eyebrows.

SAM: Damn. We’ve got our connection, then.

DAVE: Not so fast. Lots of celebrities were at that party, it doesn’t mean anything on its own. Reza, who else?

REZA: Gavin also posted evidence that Ryan Summers was making large, discreet payments to an unknown woman. Sure, Gavin never actually says she’s a call girl, but he sure as hell implies it.

DAVE: Huh. Ryan never mentioned that...

SAM: First-name basis with Ryan Summers? Really.

DAVE: Yeah, he’s a good friend of mine. We play poker on the weekends.

SAM: I’m not sure what’s harder to believe: that your poker face is that good, or that you’re actually telling the truth.

REZA: Anyway, the third suspect is pretty timely, considering Nikhil’s taste in music. Gavin leaked some of Hayley Rose’s, uh... illicit photos from her personal phone.

SAM: She’s the singer you were just listening to? How did Gavin get all this?

REZA: Whatever it was, it definitely wasn’t legal.

Dave sighs, shaking his head in disgust.

DAVE: Typical. Thanks for the leads, though. Let us know if you can find any more on Tull, okay?

REZA: You got it.

Sam and Dave step toward the door, out of earshot of the analysts.

SAM: So what the hell does any of that tell us?

DAVE: I admit it’s not much to go on. What about the gun?

SAM: What about it?

DAVE: You seemed familiar with that specific model when Nikhil mentioned it. Do you know something?

SAM (muttering): Ugh. Of course. Goddamn detective.

Dave raises an eyebrow.

SAM: Nothing that would help the case. Look, Tull’s a killer for hire, right? So, first things first, we should look into the people he offended. Find out who hired him.

DAVE: That’s fair. It’s as good a place as any to start. Let’s go; I’ll drive.

SAM: Hope you drive fast. Every second we waste is another second Tull’s out there, a free man.

Sam heads for the door, but stops when she notices Dave hasn’t moved. He studies her, frowning.

SAM: ...What?

DAVE: Look. If we’re gonna be partners on this, I need you to level with me. Why are you really here?

SAM: It’s my job-

DAVE: Massey, I’m a detective. Half my job is knowing when someone’s lying. We do have Marshals in California, y’know. Something made you get on a plane and fly halfway across the country to nab Tull yourself. Something makes you look like you’re gonna punch a hole in the wall when you think about him.

Sam sighs in defeat.

SAM: Alright. Fine. It’s personal.

DAVE: There. Was that so hard?

SAM: Look. Tull killed someone close to me. I’d rather not say any more right now.

Dave nods and opens the door to head out of the lab.

DAVE: That’s fair. Listen, Massey: we’re gonna get this bastard. That much I can promise you.

SAM: Damn straight.

Next Scene: Good Cop, Bad Cop

CIU Tag List: @brightpinkpeppercorn @endlesshero1122 @bbaba-yagaa @acidsugar0

MW Tag List: @griselda1121

#most wanted the hollywood killer #choices most wanted #choices stories you play #most wanted rewrite #ciu project #choices interconnected universe #fanfic #reza fassihi #nikhil mantha #mirasol bautista #sam massey #dave reyes #john tull #error 404: es references not found #but wow are these three fun to write

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officialleehadan · 6 years ago

Text

Masterlist 09/02/2018

Hello Darlings, here is the updated masterlist as of 09/01/18

If you want to blacklist these posts, which will update every other week or so, the tag is Lee Hadan Masterlist

All the stories here are arranged by series, and the stories are arranged chronologically within their series. If there’s only one story in a series, I already have continuations written (or planned) and more will be coming soon!

EDIT: There seems to be some technical stuff going on, on Tumblr’s end, because the links here are not posting up on the Desktop version of Tumblr. I’ve already submitted a report about it, but if you’re having trouble seeing links on this post, that would be why.

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Support me on Patreon

My Tip Jar

Books on Amazon:

Goblin Armor

There has never been much in way of peace between the Faerie Realm, and the Shadow Wold of the Goblins. Generations of hostility and mistrust will do that. Still, for two generations, the border has been quiet, and the fearsom Goblins hidden away deep in their dark forest. Until now. With the Goblins on the march, and Princess Snowbell’s king-father flying to meet them, it is all Snow can do to keep her family, and her Realm, from falling to treason, and murder.

Return Again

I thought my father was normal. The kind of dad who deals with work, and homework, and the troubles that come with being a single father to a seventeen-year-old girl. I didn’t know he went to a different world when he was a teenager. I didn’t know he was the Chosen One of a magic sword. I didn’t know he saved a whole kingdom, maybe their world, before he was twenty. That was thirty years ago. Now they need him back, and I’m going with him.

The Idol of Astre: ($2 a month on Patreon)

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

The Unsettled:

Handful of Salt

Critter Jar

Appropriate use of Craft Glitter

Unafraid

The Ghosts of Pinewood Estate (Patreon-Only!)

This Old House:

Experienced Home-Buying

Living Negotiation (Patreon-Only!)

White Roses and Deck Railings

Twins Together:

Brothers Apart

Sanctuary Always

Twins in Crime

Twinning Disagreements

Bond of Brothers

One Mind, Two Heads (Patreon Only!)

Deities and Demigods:

Boredom

Inconvenienced

Luck’s Chosen

Golden Apples

Brewer’s Glass (Patreon-Only!)

Apocalypse:

Come Again Another Day

Invasion from Below

War-Beasts

Four Horses

Four Horsemen

Horsemen Four

Mercy Mercy Mercy

To Save a Bird

Together Time (Patreon-Only!)

Breaking Waves:

After the Storm

Winter Wind

Storm At Sea

Uncollected Faeries:

Faerie Ring

Glitter Poo

Skitter

Wine-Dark

The End of Indian Summer

Purple Handed

At the Sign of the Silver Rose:

Cold Iron Buckshot

Troll Market

Selkie Skin:

Seal Coat

Over the Sea (Patreon-Only!)

Uncollected Dragons:

Exploration by Wing

Iced White Wine

Mine to Hoard

Hoard of Memories

Uncollected Witches:

Best Served Cold

Casual Friday

Exotic Components

One Eye on the Other Side

Spelled Cooking

Thyme can Heal

The Lightning Witch:

Static Charge

First Strike

Black Lightning on the Horizon

Storm Breaking

Copper Pipes

Crash Down

Husband to the Queen

When the Wolf Star Rises

Treebrothers:

Snow Elf

Wild Roses and Birdsong

Bare-Handed

Spider-Eating Elves:

Beauty is in the Eye of the Beholder

Introductory Trouble

Lady of Grace

Lady of Stone, and her Girlfriend

Lady Retrieved

Monsters on the Wing

Spiderwebs and Cookies

Royal Match

Lines in the Sand

Worldbuilding Essays:

Blood Magic

Elf Forest

Green Magic

Forge Magic

Thread Magic

Dragons

Light and Dark Magic

13 Moons

Frost Moon

Blue Moon

Jasmine Moon

HGE - Human/Alien Relations

Get That OUT of Your Mouth

Medical Attention

Claws

Ingenuity

War and Peace

Echo-Folk

HGE - Invasions

Invasion Denied

Blood Will Tell (What Waits in the Dark)

No Moon

HGE - The Others

Through Shattered Glass

Sea and Sky

HGE - Mismatched

Death Valley Sand

HGE - Conflagration

Fire District

HGE - Smoke before Fire

The Legend, The Rumor

Deep Water and Scales

Black Scales and Open Spaces

Screams in the Dark

Warning Lights

Into the Wild

Nobility and Flames

Packmates

HGE - The Maw

Back Room Handshakes

New Understandings

Poker Face

Brassy Secrets

HGE - Learn to Fly, Learn to Breathe:

Red Sun

Red Baron

Red Prince

Red Sky

Stone and Intuition:

Pack Hunters

Attack Droids

Dragon Bones

Dream of a Desk Job

BulbasaurBot

Explosive Foolishness

Inferno Grenades

Married Life

The Hand of Bone:

Death’s Kiss

Death’s Glow

Supers Beyond

Card Shark

Heroic Rescue

Housekeeping Before Villainy

Jet Fuel

Lobster Bisque

Opposing Elements:

Cold Front

Elemental

Reality at Will

Altering Reality

Reality Bent

The Pen is Mightier

Will of Fire

Chinese Pepper

Firepower

A Moment’s Peace

Burnout

Doctor Rimeheart (Supervillain Coffee Shop)

Handicapped

Power Rests in the Eye

Nuclear Option

Incidental Villain

Second in Command

Cut a Deal

First Summon

Even Supervillains run from Fangirls

The Blackest Coffee

Deal with the Devil

Opportunity for Advancement

Fear and Coffeegrounds

Personal Space

Broken Countertops

Christmas Cookies

Revealed

Wannabe Wannabes

Home Life

Shadows Unleashed

Old Villains (Patreon-Only!)

Higher Being Housemates

Bright Red Panties

Black and White Feathers

Demonic Comfort

Demonic Intervention

Unwanted Attention

Magpie Wings

Don’t Fall

Sparklers and Demon Smiles

Holy Words

Uncollected Demons:

Accidental Oops

Bloody Mirror

Brimstone Portal

Burn My Body and Bury Me Deep

Holy Protestation

On Repeat

The Gunsmith

The Wrong Victim

Over the Edge

Sinners

Seven Sins

House of Demons

A Deal Once Made:

You Scratch my Back

Contract Lawyer:

Blue Frosting

Fine Print

Uncollected:

Awaken History

Command.Awaken

Isle of Monsters

One Punch Man

Stonebreaker Caldera

Hot Potato, Hot Potato

Vigilante Vampire

Crawlspace

Blood on the Walls

Between Us Girls:

Surprises Abroad

Uncollected Fantasy:

Below the Fog

Glitter Bold

God-Touched Tide

Into the Darkness

Turn Me

Wolf Moon

Blood Moon

Hallowed Halls Memorial

A Kiss to Heal a Broken Heart

Cursebroken

Nothing but Trouble

Build a House of Paper

Unspoken Words

Imagine Reality (Patreon-Only)

The Mistlands:

Foolhardy Errand

Letters Sent

Desert Glass:

Spellborn Lost

Smoked Glass

Books and Shared Experiences

Burned and Blasted

The Rise to Power:

Behind Closed Doors

Two Minds as One

Political Assassination

Gates Torn Down

Heaven’s Gates

Counter-Code:

Code for Magic

99 Shiny New Bugs

Blood Magic:

Blood Fire

At the Last Moment

Healing Touch

Unbound, Unbroken

Student Discovered

Claimed as Ours

Never Free:

Round and Round Again

Mistaken Step

Spinning Wheel

Stronger Together

Tea and History

Girl Talk

Golden Scales:

Tigerfish

Riverside

Blood and Passion:

White Marble

First Negotiation

Blood Summit

Blood Claim

CovenHold

Wolf Club

Blood-Traitor

Slow Burn:

About-Face

Dancing Lessons

Guiding Stars:

Procyon Moon

Altair Chariot

Vega Dignity

Secondhand Souls:

Partnership of Flames

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#Lee Hadan Masterlist

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