#v. tag pending

[viciousgentlemen]

hellverse au

Mike perished in the fire caused by Henry Emily at the end of Pizza Simulator. After acting as manager of Freddy Fazbear's and as bait for the surviving animatronics, Mike refused to escape the blaze as his existence as a living corpse was no life at all. Burning to nothing alongside Henry, William and the lingering spirits of the Fazbear tragedy. (I'm ignoring that Security Breach made their sacrifice meaningless)

He woke up in hell. Still trapped in his decayed flesh but with... surprising additions. A mangled amalgamation of wires and organs. As if his body was still being worn by the machines.

Ironically enough he opened a pizza joint. In a way it's all he knows and there's comfort in the familiar. Especially when no one can sue you in hell. While maintaining his thriving business he hunts for his father who he knows has joined him in hell, his search thus far proven fruitless. Still driven mad with a need for revenge and for answers.

He's become a deal maker in the decades spent in hell. Owning the souls of some of his entertainers and employees. But he's by no means near the power of an overlord. Thus far he's been able to avoid getting bought by bigger brands like Wackford. He's got several franchise locations throughout Pride and even one in Gluttony.

[whereheartscollide]

"It is a very nice dick...."

[liistenwellallofyou]

@tenebrave liked for a starter

"Why, this is a pleasant surprise." Maleficent said, staring down at the young man. "Never though you would sough out to me willingly, child."

[deviillry]

s.c * @peoplcsrebel

❛  CUTE, METAL ARM --- ❜   it comes in  accented, drawl as cool as a river during autumn. DEMONIC energy surged like a tide in the space between them; the battlefield had been PURIFIED , consecrated in the blood from the very veins of the butchered and hellish beasts.

REMNANTS drip from the blades of their swords like heavy dew that weighs upon blades of grass come inevitable morning.  ❛  I have one, too. ❜ on cue silvery and precious the plates of mystic armor materialize , build and slot together like the pieces of a puzzle around her dominating arm, clutched to the hilt of her weapon.

MAGIK swings the SOULSWORD in an arch, a spill of red droplets glitter against it's blue-white glow until the motion comes to a halt against the shoulder of her pauldron to rest .

 ❛  see ? ❜

[shepcdr]

@weavrot ∗ first impressions.

PICKING THROUGH CORPSES FOR MEDKITS isn't exactly shepard's idea of a good time — it doesn't take long for him to kit up once he hits the ground. it's not so much entertainment as it is work, but years spent watching the games has its perks. he knows the sound of all the various ammunition types, the charging and cycling of individual guns ... how to identify what he wants from a distance or in the very midst of a sudden firefight.

most of the opposition had taken care of itself before he even showed up, but scouting ahead of his surviving squadmate did secure shepard a few kills of his own. the dozen or so bodies littering the dunes just outside skull town don't intimidate him in the least; he stepped into the midst of them, eyes quickly catching the glint of a prowler beneath a nearby corpse. he extracts it, turning it over in his hand. it's equipped with a select-fire receiver ... perfect. that was the sound that he had followed here and the gun he was looking for.

shepard holsters it and keeps digging through the bodies. despite his careful concentration, the sound of chatter starting up again reaches his ears. his eye twitches.

he doesn't know what the deal with this guy is. ( ... what's his name again? it was something that started with a g, right? ... or maybe a v. ) just that he looks like death, and so soon after drop.

and that, for some damned reason, he's not healing.

shepard knows well that qualifying for the games doesn't always equate to having common sense. but he's feeling non-judgemental today — maybe the guy's just lacking supplies.

shepard presses hands over the trouser pockets of a dead medic, pausing when he feels what feels like the telltale lump of frag grenades beneath the fabric ... two, three, four of them. jackpot. he slips them into his own belt, tugging on the medic's bag — yanking hard, with a hissed curse, when it catches under the man's head for a moment.

shepard turns, the medic bag balanced on one hand, and watches the other man. ( veil? no, that didn't sound right. bale? ... maybe. ) waits for him first to finish looting, and then for the talk to die down — whenever he notices shepard's unresponsiveness and the humourless stare.

the moment comes at last. shepard lifts the bag, packed with a handful of syringes and bandages, and tilts his head towards the squadmate.

" you need supplies? " the implication's clear. should have been ages ago, with how sickly the man's looking.

[tortoisesshells]

DS shitposting, part ???/???

[konohadaddies]

Continued from HERE with @thetoaddaddy

Serving his clan was always Hiashi's focus, or at least he tried to make it be so, which meant even though he hadn't slept in three days he had still requested the Sanin's presence to help with some papers. The Hokage had rejected some of the scrolls he'd turned in on the clan's behalf and he had hoped that the older man might be able to help him reword things well enough for her to accept. Though he did suspect it was simply that they were suggested betrothals that she was balking and that he wasn't sure could be fixed but he had to try before taking a failure back to the council of elders.

It had gotten later and later in the day, to the point Hiashi had started to think Lord Jiraiya wouldn't show up and had been about to head to his quarters, when the white haired man finally showed up. Because of course the man would have the worst timing and arrive just as Hiashi was about to reach his limit to his self-control. The clan might be used to being asked to wait for an hour for him to calm down, even if they all believed it to be anger issues still lingering from his teenhood, but that didn't mean he could ask the Sanin to wait on him.

So he'd welcomed the man in, tried to ignore the way only the purposeful tension in his shoulders kept shivers from racing down his spine at the other's voice, the way that smile made him want to return it, to be the reason for that smile. Why must be always be punished by life?

He had done well keeping himself together and presentable... for the first fifteen or twenty minutes. Then Lord Jiraiya had gone to grab a scroll at the same time as him and their hands overlapped for a moment. Even that he would have made it through, but the white haired man had turned his hand and swept it up his forearm, his skin actually bare to the touch due to his sleeve catching at the edge of the table they were using.

Mind flooding with need, with want, at the touch, his lack of sleep left him running on instinct before he could gather his brain cells again. The words that bubbled past his lips as he grabbed at the older man didn't even register on his mind, the honesty in his plea leaving his voice at the cusp of breathless. But before he'd managed to gather his self-control again, to make himself pull away from the Sanin that he knew he had no right to touch, it suddenly seemed that Lord Jiraiya was...

Agreeing?

This time, the brush of fingers to his skin did send a shiver down his spine, the surprise causing him to relax just enough to allow it. Watching the older man, Hiashi didn't know how much of his excitement, and nervousness, showed in his gaze, but he made himself release the man's arms, praying that something did actually come from this.

He set one of his hands down on the small seal on the corner of the table and sent a quick pulse of chakra through it to activate the privacy screens in the walls. While there wasn't a lot that fully blocked the Byakugan, there were many rooms in the compound that were crafted to allow the interior to be hidden. It was the only way he could risk this without dragging the man clear back to his rooms, as they were sealed as well, and he wasn't positive he could keep himself together enough to walk to his rooms right then.

Still leaning across the table towards Jiraiya, his hand on the seal balancing his weight, he hated himself for how soft his voice was as he spoke, "Please..."

[antiibow]

s.c from 500 years ago * @gviirus

❁ ❜ . * ❝ ...NOW THAT WE'RE DONE RUNNING AROUND, we need to talk.❞ tired, haggard, but gravely serious, sheva slumped into the nearby chair of her her office. HQ bustled with agents and in house staff, phones rang off the hook. it had only been a handful of days since they'd left Wesker to rot in the heart of an active volcano - she could still feel its HEAT if she closed her eyes, and the dry burn in her lungs still lingered. she coughed into her arm, her face screwing up in distaste as she reached for her bottle of water at her desk. ❝ its about Ms. Valentine.❞

[ama-ships]

Am I thinking about H/ux? Am I thinking about H/ank?

Maybe :3

[ruinouss]

@amused-bouche

With Hellboy, Liz, and Abe currently on an important international job there was a lack of special talent agents in their Newark base. Their absence wouldn't have become an issue if it hadn't been for the increasing attacks on humans and the disappearance of two human agents. With the danger not yet evaluated, Faye, a special talents agent from New Mexico had been volunteered to assist with the investigation prior to recalling Hellboy's team.

It was always exciting for her to be sent to a new sector and she was quick to pack a bag and hop on the earliest flight. Though, part of her wondered if this mission also doubled as a test run to see if this branch would be more suitable for her. It wasn't the first time she'd been sent to a new B.P.R.D. base only to be told it wasn't a temporary gig. She had a habit of stirring up trouble with her lack of filter and impulsive personality. And with so many mature and veteran agents her superiors were probably hoping they'd be able to reign her in and straighten her out.

Guess they'd all see.

Arriving at the base, she was directed onto the elevator where she began her descent. A thrill ran through her, eager to meet her guide and new partner. Geo? She was fairly certain that was what her superiors said his name was. And that was all. She could have received a full dossier to learn a bit more (much like one on her had been given to them) but that ruined the fun and she didn't like the idea of a piece of paper having any sway over her first impression.

"You must be the guy," Faye grinned when the elevator reached the bottom and she came face to face with a stranger. Instantly, she shot her hand out for him to shake. "Name's Faye but I'm assumin' they at least gave ya that."

[ancient-pokehistorian]

I stare into the screen. ToR muses overloaded with Terastal energy— what could possibly go wrong?

Also LTH Falk + SwSh Darkest Day (hey do you think a hybrid could be modified to produce energy like a bootleg legendary or store energy/act like an energy range booster hehe)

Not forgetting Saburo in Alpha state, but imagine it happening in the middle of a crowd of people he was trying to befriend/protect, only for him to turn on them.

Go into my inbox and tell me a situation you’d love to see my Muse go through.

((So you're looking for disaster. Which is great, bc I love disaster (if you haven't noticed). >:)c

Terastalized ToR (including Val) could easily still happen. Overall it probably wouldn't be the worst thing-unless they had a target for their respective emotions. Then it's gonna get scary.

That's an interesting theory-I doubt LTH Falk could Dynamax, being still partially human, but the idea of further modifying a hybrid to act like a Wishing Star...that would certainly be a new level of angst. @profprincess wrote some great Dynamax headcanons (here), so I feel compelled to ask their opinion and exactly how fucked up this could get.

And that's something I've wanted for Saburo from the beginning. Just complete angst.))

[viciousgentlemen]

"I'm so sick of pizza." Said while shoving a slice into his mouth.

[whereheartscollide]

@palidinus | from here

"Some.... girl that called herself Aerith. She liked to come around and mess with me a lot. That's all she did, too, just mess with me. Like all the other ones that used me did."

[liistenwellallofyou]

@multif0rmed

"Master Xehanort, it's been very long since I last saw you. Still doing your research?"

[prcttyinpcnk]

"Oh! Oh oh! Phiona! Open mine next!!"

Phiona giggles, taking the big box that Beau was struggling to carry. Poor thing.

"My box is bigger, that means I love you more!"

Phiona couldn't help but roll her eyes and giggle at that statement. Of course, she knew Beau was kidding, but she was starting to think that maybe she would be a bad influence on them. As she opened the box.

Oh. Oh, there was a lot in here. Phiona turns to Beau, bewilderment in her eyes.

"I... didn't know what to get you, so I just made you a whole bunch of stuff. Called it, uh... blind box! A birthday blind box!"

Well, that's one way to put it. The box contains a multitude of new knickknacks and oddities that just tickled Phiona pink! Sound-erasing pointe slippers and sneakers, perfect for sneaking around! Stickers with location tracking glyphs on them! Ah! She'll never lose her things again! The cutest dolly that acted as both a companion and a camera! An indestructible baseball bat....? Okay. Good for baseball, and if she's caught off guard in her room at night... She guesses. Oh! A paddle brush that can dye her hair with ease! Whether it be gradients or streaks!

After going through the contents of the box, Phiona turns to Beau and embraces them in a tight hug.

"Ooooh! Thank you, Beau! You're the best!"

[tortoisesshells]

the world, which seems To lie before us like a land of dreams (extremely soft M, D.ark Shadows, Roger Collins/Victoria Winters/Burke Devlin, ~2700 words, AU post Laura Collins/The Phoenix arc)

Roger makes his unwillingness to sit quietly a pressing problem for Burke & Vicki on the drive back from Bar Harbor,

or,

“Pull over, Devlin,” Roger was saying, irritably. Drowsy as she was, Vicki was aware of his hands on the seat behind her, the noise of skin on leather. “If you’re going to be sick –” “I’m sick of sitting back here, like a naughty child.” Her husband played dumb. “Well, sure. The road’s not that busy, but you’ll find another way home. You know how to thumb a ride, don’t you?” “Don’t be ridiculous.” Vicki glanced up, the moonlight playing across Burke’s face. He had a face for it – moonlight. His jaw worked for a moment. “You’re not driving my car, Roger.”

Read the Rest on AO3!