#slaughter gun

[zaharrhea]

Slaughter gun GIF I made in blockbench lol

[serpentface]

Interview Question for Etsushir:

What was the vibe like as a foot soldier during the suppression of the North Finn Rebellion? Did it feel doomed from the start or did it only fall apart once the Odomache was assaulted and killed?

[quirkle2]

zombie apocalypse (no powers) au where mob is turned but ritsu isn't ready to give up on him, so he simply takes him with him to find a cure. there's a Lot here to summarize, but my favorite part of this au is how ritsu slowly but surely starts to resent most humans and suddenly he's the lunatic kid who's on the zombie side of the war. more info in the tags where i don't shut up ever

[spaceyaceylesbianart]

“And then one day, I suddenly have this thing that takes all that rage, and it holds it, tells me it’s right, that it’s me. It didn’t stay in my leg because of some ghostly master plan. It stayed because I wanted it.” Melanie King, MAG131 - Flesh

[getyouanearthygirl]

Some rockstar for you to thirst over who aren’t (to my knowledge) horrible people

Bc I’m tried of seeing people obsess over Tommy Lee. He doesn’t deserve it and you deserve better. I included lesser known guys and different genres to accommodate your thirsting needs.

[magnusthepuppet]

MY TMA SONA ‼️

since tmp is coming out soon (plus another secret reason) i wanted to post my magnus archives sona ! they’re not very fleshed out story-wise, but the general gist is that they joined the mexican army and became more and more obsessed with martyrdom as time went on. unfortunately, his skill on the field meant that nobody from the enemy troops could land a hit on them…she would go into battle and fall into trances of utter massacre. what was the war even about? they couldn’t remember.

one day during these meaningless battles, she just snapped. if they couldn’t die, then his troop would have to know the honor of facing death. long story short, she now appears in random wars around the world in order to force martyrdom onto whatever troop they deem worthy.

[elementaskylos345]

Dread Within the Cabin

An Island of the Slaughtered fanfic

In an effort to seek temporary sanctuary from the torment of Wawanakwa Island and its restless and angered spirits, Chris McLean falls head first out of the kettle and into the fire.

|TW| firearms, disassociation |TW|

Chris slammed the door behind him, breathing heavily as he backed away from the door, eventually bumping into a workbench and leaning on it. His eyes flicked to look towards the busted window - wisps of thin light crept around the side closest to the door. All then fell silent.

The light then faded, leaving Chris alone. After at least a minute he finally let go of the breath he was holding, lightheadedness swimming in his skull.

“Fucking hell…” He murmured as he fell to the floor. He groaned and shifted himself, resting his arms on his knees, staring at the ground. His face was dirty, bruised, and cut while his hair was rugged and unkempt. He'd spent… two or so days lost and unable to find his team. Even where he knew they'd be, they weren't there. It's as if the island itself was keeping him away, tormenting him with spirits.

He left them here with a killer, he knew he did, but he was coming to save them now. Doing the right thing in the end is what matters, right? Like living a life of sin but turning to Christ - God will forgive.

He let out a stressed laugh. Then a chuckle. And then more laughter.

Chris didn't believe in God. But he was still right by coming here and rescuing the remaining teenagers. Hell, maybe after they all get through this he could do some interviews and finally get eyes back on him-

Chris jolted as a TV in the corner flicked on. Its screen was cracked and bloodied… as well as the cart it sat upon. He squinted as he slowly stood up and inspected it from afar, not daring to get any closer. It wasn't just blood that was on the TV there also seemed to be… hair… maybe a bit of flesh… on the corner. Chris felt sick to his stomach.

Death was all over this island now yet he hadn't grown numb to it. Maybe it was the constant terror, maybe it was his mind still not being caught up.

Through the static Chris saw… something. A face maybe? Glasses? He couldn't quite tell, not at this distance. The screen then turned off before flicking back on again. He tilted his head in confused suspicion, taking in the now clear image. It was an image familiar to him. A hint of nostalgia surrounding days in the arcade came to mind.

The familiar green vector graphics on that black background with the angular text. Battlezone. He'd spent far too long in the arcade playing this - it was very impressive back then. He snapped back to reality and to the fear he should be feeling. Chris squinted his eyes and slowly approached before stopping, looking out the window… he felt the need to block that off… he just felt eyes on him from over there. Be it Beth or Justin he didn't care either way he didn't want anyone looking at him without his knowledge.

So Chris took a few minutes to crudely cover the window with a nearby tarp, using a few nails quietly hammered into place to keep it up. It wouldn't last but it would do. As he stepped off of the ladder he nearly had a heart attack when he noticed the cart and TV had moved to be next to him. The ladder clattered to the floor in response to him practically jumping off of it. He took a moment to breathe, staring at the ominous mechanical box before him. The days old blood that lined the left side of the TV and pooled at its base made him uneasy.

Chris huffed as he finally gathered himself, more closely inspecting the TV while still not daring to lay a hand on it or the cart. The first thing he noticed was the atari controller sat gently on top of the box TV, inviting him to pick it up and begin playing. His eyes followed the cable downwards to the atari console. Then the consol plugged into the TV. All was well so far.

But the TV wasn't plugged in. It didn't have a cord to plug with and this shack currently had no power.

Chris shuddered at the realization. As if the situation couldn't get more supernatural. His eyes fell onto the controller and how it beckoned for him. It insisted. It was for him. He nearly picked it up… but hesitated. If he's going to be distracted he needs to be able to defend himself… that's partially why he came here in the first place - to arm himself.

So he left the TV and moved back over to the workbench. There were what you'd expect - hammers, saws, screwdrivers, the like… but there were also a few firearms. Hunting rifles and a shotgun. Damn. He'd forgotten to move them into his home before filming… or maybe this was one of the restricted shacks used for set building and such? It didn't matter now and he didn't care to remember. He just picked up a crowbar and walked back over to the TV to grab the controller.

…

“What am I doing?” He asked himself before stepping away. Yeah, what WAS he doing? He huffed. “Playing a clearly haunted game on an island full of ghosts that want to kill you, good job McLean.” he scolded himself before turning his back to the box and moving to the door.

The moment he laid his hand on the handle a sheer noise erupted from behind him, like the dying wails of a beast put through so many filters it came out like garbled static. He whipped around and swung the crowbar, wracking the TV right on its side with a resounding thud. He stared at the TV and the TV stared back, a faint static hum in the air. Sweat rolled down Chris’ brow as he swallowed the lump in his throat - he could swear he saw eyes behind those pixels.

He then noticed the missing controller. He eyed the surrounding area before realizing that the controller was at his feet… this spirit was no longer asking but demanding. He stared into the vector graphics for a moment before finally nodding in agreement.

“Alright… alright… I'll play.”

He shakily picked up the controller before gently pushing the cart back about a foot so he could sit with his back against the door and still see the screen. He was below the TV screen but he had no idea how long he'd be kept here so he might as well get comfortable. He laid the crowbar across his lap and pressed the button on the controller, starting the game of Battlezone.

Chris immediately noticed that the environment was off. A scene of distant mountains and green squares and triangles as obstacles was no more. The background was all but gone and the obstacles now resembled infinitely tall rectangles. Immediately the hair on the back of his neck rose but he nonetheless familiarized himself with the controls.

Not only had it been several decades since he last played but he was used to the arcade cabinet and not the atari version. The arcade cabinet had two joysticks that controlled the two treads of the tank the player drove, using the position of the two joysticks to determine how the tank moved. All that was now condensed into one joystick.

You'd think that would make it easier but all the skill he built up all those years ago was severely hampered. He turned his attention to the top left to see where the enemy tank would be.

[Enemy is to th rigleft]

[Enemy in rangeft]

[Enemy is to the lefange]

[Enemy ]

That was very helpful. His eyes went back to the battleground. He began to scan the area to his left, deciding that maybe the word left showing up in most of the messages might’ve meant something. The background scrolled as he turned, revealing more of the nothing and nonsensical line placements. He also saw more infinitely tall rectangles… but no enemy tank. He also didn't hear any missiles coming. So he continued spinning.

The radar feed in the top left continued to spit out nonsensical garbage as he turned. As he spun around to the right he could finally see some geometry that made sense - a large mountain off in the distance, much like the one on Wawanakwa. He'd now scanned the entire area and still didn't see the enemy tank and his nerves were at a fever pitch. He took a moment to look at his surroundings to see if perhaps all of this was a distraction.

Then he heard the sound of something firing in the game. He jolted and began reversing and his eyes snapped back to the screen, hoping he was being shot from the side. He witnessed the bullet whiz, by the front of his tank. He sucked in some air and began to strafe to the left - where the bullet came from. More bullets flew past the front of his tank. As he continued to strafe he began to dread more and more what the enemy tank might look like, unable to tell if horrifying vector graphics would look better than… whatever else might show up here.

It was a slow process but he eventually moved backwards enough to see the enemy at the left side of his screen. It was a lot tamer than he was expecting as it was just a corrupted tank model. That being said, considering how simple the graphics are this felt like an abomination from hell.

Nonetheless he was still in a terrible position. Like first person shooters after it, in Battlezone you can only fire from the center of the screen. The enemy was to the left. Not good.

Thankfully, he hadn't fired once in this whole process and there's a firing delay, about half a second. It'd be tight but he might be able to turn the tank after the enemy fired and hit it before it can shoot him. It's far more likely he'd die but it was worth a shot. He then backed into an obstacle and died. He blinked. He forgot that could happen.

Once he respawned he turned to the right and saw the corrupted enemy model. He made sure there were no obstacles in the way before lining up the shot and fired. However, the enemy moved out of the way. He hummed and moved forward to make chase. Now that he was in the prime position he was able to close the distance and destroy the enemy, causing the enemy “tank” to explode into corrupted vector chunks.

With his death and the death of the enemy tank leading to no horror brought him some comfort. A small part of him considered that maybe this spirit just really wanted to play some Battlezone. So, the back and forth continued. Playing against an intelligent being was certainly very different from playing against ai. There was even a moment of peace where the two of them “danced” by driving forward and reversing rapidly before continuing the battle. It was… nice.

After constant torment this moment of peace and, honestly, fun was refreshing. He'd almost forgotten the danger he was in, the nostalgia and newfound comfort in the game lulling Chris’ anxieties.

Honestly, after a while, he was convinced that this spirit - who he figured was probably Harold - just wanted someone to play with. It was so strangely wholesome… though, he should probably leave soon. He'd lost track of the time and still had to find out how to get back to his crew.

But he just couldn't pull himself away from the game, enthralled by the activity, he and Harold now trying to see if they can shoot each other's projectiles.

Shoot

Shoot

The image of one of the hunting rifles popped into his mind, almost as if he was looking at it at that moment. He blinked, a fuzzy feeling filling his mind, causing him to lift his thumb off of the controller and stop all movement in game. He groaned and rubbed his eyes… his hands felt full… like a weight was in them. He looked down at the controller then past the TV to the dark environment around him. It suddenly didn't feel real.

He rubbed his eyes again and shook his head, fully dropping the atari controller. What the hell was going on? He felt detached from himself and from the things around him, like he was floating in a void. He looked back to the screen only to be met with the barrel of the enemy tank, his eyes half lidded and confused. He waited for the tank to shoot.

Shoot

Shoot

Chris blinked into awareness, his body once again feeling like his own. He was standing in front of the workbench, staring at the ceiling. He furrowed his brow and looked around to catch his bearings. Everything was as he left it - tarp on the window, tools displaced from his rummaging, haunted TV in front of the door to the outside… but one of the hunting rifles was missing. He looked down at his hands, quickly dropping what was held within them.

Well, he found the rifle. He was holding it to himself, clearly with harmful intentions. Chris just stood there for a moment to catch his breath. How close was he to death just now? Was Harold just toying with him?

After a moment he steeled his gaze with a huff before turning to leave. He grabbed the cart with the TV and thrust it aside, just barely throwing the TV to the ground. Turns out he'd lost at some point while he was hallucinating. Chris waved his hand dismissively towards the box and picked up the crowbar before leaving, slamming the door behind him.

As he left he reminded himself that he was doing the right thing. He was saving who was left. The police were here combing the island for the killer. This anger was justified - maybe - but his conscience would be clear. These spirits would NOT kill him.

They would NOT be the end of him.

He refused to die on this island.

[whatitshouldvebeen]

‘m so sad bc I think I missed the Johnny slaughter wave here on tumblr 😞 it ended before I could even begin to write for him 😪 my husband fr

I blame GUN media for handling their game terribly. When they stopped cross play they lost tens of thousands of players and never recovered (+ the hackers never stopped, ofc). Their game maps are basically puzzles that — once solved — become very repetitive.

Couple that with poorly handled expansions + patches including:

Releasing Black Nancy at the same time as one of the most anticipated killers of all time (Chucky) was released in their similar-genre competition Dead by Daylight.

Nerfing the killers too harshly like how they massacred our boy Johnny until picking him would make other killers leave the lobby to not be hindered by his dead weight. Sissy and Cook have also received similar nerfs, and Leatherface's revving sprint was stealth nerfed as well.

Ignoring things that made the game experience painful to play. For example, the car on the gas station that the survivors could just crouch in forever took something like 8 months for them to block. As someone who's worked on game environments, adding an invisible block would take about thirty seconds. And how grandpa would screw everyone over waking up, that was only recently fixed. Oh, and stunlocking the family forever with doors, that was fun...

And let's not forget GUN's rudeness toward their fans such as:

Responding to shipper's posts by vehemently denying that their ship would ever be canon.

Being sassy about people asking for alternatives to having to play leatherface every game by removing the requirement but not adding any new or fun ways to fulfill the leatherface role (sledgehammer Johnny? Mallet Leatherface?) + leaving barracades up with no way to destroy them.

Insinuating those of us asking for shirtless Johnny were being thirsty hoes for asking (and we were), making us have to fight for him to be shirtless, then being rude toward the people who then asked for thirst skins for Julie/Connie/etc. Most of their player base comes from dead by daylight, we are all thirsty and no one should be shamed for asking for skins they would like to look at.

Let's not forget the extremely overpriced Nicotero Leatherface skin that both had broken audio on release and who's chainsaw is significantly quieter giving a very real advantage to playing him. Also, covering half the main screen with an ad for it was very desperate IMO.

Lastly, the killers to victims ratio is outrageous, something like 1 killer to every 25 victims. Yet they keep making playing killer worse and worse (cough, like by adding Danny who's skill is still broken af, cough)

All these factors combined spelled certain doom for poor ole Johnny. While some people like myself are still loyalists, the fact of the matter is, GUN killed their boy. In a perfect world, Johnny would be added into a TCM movie to revitalize interest in him. But I think the game has no hope.

[xo-myloves]

Hey, so I’m doing a thing and I could really use your help. Since GnR were such major clotheshorses of the Sunset Strip, could you point out a few specific examples of the band in what passed for glam metal winter-wear? I mean, even hot guys with slutty little waists still get cold.

I’m genuinely having a hard time finding specific concrete examples of what folks wore for winter on the Sunset Strip in the 80s.

well if you’re a chick, leg warmers and gloves, I could show you photos, you could wear them as a guys too, but for the winter, it’s mostly leather jackets and long pants, most glam clothing is winter clothing, that why on stage they would change, I would say for bands though besides GNR, Mötley crüe, wore a lot of good clothes for that, same with other I will list below!

Cinderella

La guns

Hanoi rocks

Ratt

Def leopard

Slaughter

Warrant

Poison

Scorpions

Quiet riot

White snake

Fasterpussycat

I HOPE THIS HELPS 💋🖤

[spacerose747]

Instead of jerking it to real serial killers I propose:

Rock stars!!

Perks!!

#1: Most of them are criminals but (probably) haven't killed anyone!

#2: Sexy!

#3: There's a variety of them

#4: Some of them aren't stinky like hot garbage!

#5: Some ARE stinky like hot garbage (whatever you like)

#6: Rockers are just hotter than average men

#7: They're all pretty tall and some would probably step on you if you asked

#8: Sex.

This has been my Ted talk, thanks for coming

[locomotive-complicity]

try to guess the pattern with (some of) my favorite male vocalists. level: impossible /j

[ar3s-r4t-qu33n]

My offering to the TCM Fandom 🙇 please accept me into your community I have run from TikTok and their censorship and I've been lurking for months PLEASE-

Also credits to: Gun Interactive for the trailers and Petals, Max:3 and Anasigmaflores on YouTube for some of the clips in-game, all Maria Flores footage at the end is my own

[fox-guardian]

thinkin about entity dragons again....

[doomedclockworkdotmp3]

oohh my goodness would you look at that. its the tristamp version! at last!! ill admit- this has been all but finished for uuhhh weeks! its been weeks. the only thing ive needed to do is the ampersand. that lil "&" that you see? thats the only thing i needed to do. i just didnt want to.

BUT ITS DONE!! its done and if you want heres the links to the tri98 version and the trimax version

[thebrottenthusiast]

What if I killed your favorite characters? Wouldn't that be so funny?

Anyway hi, dropping this in. We need more ROTI IOTS content so here is my very loose very vague revenge of the Slaughtered AU haha feedback would be really appreciated it might ooc and this is my first time writing angst specifically whump so yeah 🤗

CW: guns, blood, graphic depictions of violence, mental breakdowns, angst, hurt no comfort, character death both major and minor.

[keiachi-chan]

The one day of the year I don't talk about wanting to fist fight him