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thunderheadfred · 3 years

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🤚The Second Worst (Pt. 1/?)🤚

Part 2 of my Shigaraki Thesis Headcanons. HC's // The Second Worst: 1 - 2

The half-mad ghost of Shimura Tenko is in love with you, and your life is about to become a tragic wreck. -- AKA here's when I gave up on bullet points and went off the fuckin rails

I'm self-conscious about writing so much, so uhhhh, please be kind, hahaaa. This is rather long and involved. Are these still even HCs or just a self-indulgent AU outline? There are some mysteries we may never solve.

This is on AO3 now, if you prefer reading there. Anyway. Minors do not interact.

- - - - -

You met Tenko before the League existed.

Believe it or not, there are a million ways it might have happened, but in the end: you were both bargain-binning in Akihabara.

You reached for a copy of a collectible bullet-hell cute-'em-up (near-mint! CIB!!!) and accidentally bonked hands with a complete stranger. He flinched about five million feet away from you. Ouch. You're just a nobody, quirkless and average, but you didn't think you were THAT repulsive.

(You're not. Hell, even if you were, this guy couldn't care less. He barely registers that you have a face.)

(Shigaraki is accustomed to getting in and out of this shop in seconds. He always comes in before anyone else and goes straight home. -- Is that really home? Is 'home' a real place? -- ANYWAY he's already pirated this shit, god, why does he even care? He doesn't need to be here. Father doesn't like it. Is that why he's here? Just to do something Father doesn't like? That's pathetic.)

He's had at least ten complete internal arguments with himself before he so much as looks at you.

You know in the tenth of a second he actually meets your eyes... this fucker is going to fight you to the death over this game.

- - - The death match ends in a draw. He was not expecting you to know the first fucking thing about this game. Nobody knows about it, even in Japan. Who the fuck do you even think you are? Oh, no, he's still taking it. But... maybe he can show you how to play it it. He'll give you a little taste, just to make you jealous. He's got his hoodie pulled down like he's going to commit an act of terrorism. What little you can see of his face looks twitchy and messed up. If you have any survival instincts at all, they're kicking in right about now. But... why not. You're not going anywhere with this dude unsupervised, so you suggest a crowded web cafe down the street. The cafe has the necessary console... but the retro gaming booth is laughably small. The TV is about four inches across and you end up having to practically sit in his lap. You were sure this guy was a nasty fucking creep, but he's................ only mostly terrible. Way too angry, for sure. Has no idea how to have a normal, friendly conversation. Inadvertently insults you every other sentence and seems to have a deep-seated persecution complex.

You'd prefer to be mad about the awful company, but... he's obviously deprived of human contact. When it's established that you two share a lot of media fixations, he calms down and starts treating you a little more like a human being. Or at least like a fellow elite.

Wherever he came from, he doesn't seem to want to go back. He keeps pushing you to play one more level, pretending he wants to beat your score. You feel kinda bad for him. You get the distinct feeling that his life is a disaster. He looks like he's never had a full night of sleep in his life. He trips your trigger hairs in that 'is he gonna follow me home?' kind of way, but... up close, he's a lot more depressing than scary. At the very least, you want to buy him a stupidly cute dessert. Just... as thanks. For letting you try out the game and stuff. It's not a big deal, so just pick a flavor, okay? The world isn't actually that awful, y'know.

It's not even that impressive... Definitely not a great cafe. But he takes practically a full hour to eat a single slice of strawberry cake.

When the hoodie comes down. He's all shriveled and dried out, like someone left him him in the desert to die. He chews on his peeling bottom lip and nervously scratches his neck. He doesn't thank you for the cake. Which is fine. It's not a big deal. Actually, you wish he would eat faster; you feel weirdly responsible for him now.

Under all that mess he's... gorgeous? His hair is stunning: a bright, gleaming silver that catches the light. His bone structure is flawless. If it weren't for all the scars and the misanthropic slouch, he'd look like a fairy fucking prince.

You were not prepared for that. In another life he could have been a model, the type of guy who would never even look at you. But something bad happened to him. Something... very bad. Do you even want to know? You have no idea how to ask. Has anyone ever been nice to him? It doesn't seem like it. Should YOU be nice to him? You sort of want to try. - - - This becomes a regular thing. This weird little secret. You should probably tell someone when you see him, just in case you don't come back one day, but you say nothing; how the hell would you explain why you want to see him so bad? You don't know his full name. Maybe he's on a watch list. When he gives you a long string of random numbers so you can schedule meet-ups (is THAT his e-mail, really?) he tells you to just... call him Tenko. Or whatever. It doesn't matter. (He sneaks out when Father is deep in his plots. As long as he comes home on time, it doesn't really matter where he goes, right?) He brings a different game every time. He has an insane collection. Where does he get the money for all this? You know he doesn't work. God, is it drugs? It's probably drugs. Wherever these hidden gems came from, he proudly shows them off to you, like he's never had an audience before. It's sort of cringe-inducing, the way he one-ups and rubs every little victory in your face, desperate for attention.

But at the same time, you are becoming too... something...to mind. Do you... like him? He's not funny, but he thinks you are. His mouth is huge when he laughs. He seems to hate everyone but you, and you've had to earn the distinction of being merely tolerable. Still, he gets really excited about random shit like the garage kit black market and haunted dolls and the price of weed on the dark web.

And... strawberry cake. The realization hits you both at the same time when the waitress brings one piece with two forks. God, what the fuck, are you... are you dating? Quick, think. You look forward to seeing him, and don't even mind sitting close to him anymore. Sometimes you push your leg up against him just to see if he'll still flinch away... and he doesn't.

You jealously notice the way he touches everything but you: with delicate precision, one finger at a time. His large, elegant hands always have a pinky up like he's aspiring for a fiefdom, and you wonder what his skin feels like. You go home and dwell on the way he plucks flowering weeds out of the pavement in front of the cafe. The way he stands rooted to the spot as you leave, just... looking at nothing, unsmiling.

You watch his lips too much, and not just because you want to buy him chapstick. You catch him gaping at you all the time. You thought he was just creepy like that, but maybe... Yeah. I guess you are dating him. Shit. - - - Okay, so, yeah. Bringing him back to your place was definitely a bad idea. You know you shouldn't trust him, even if he is... apparently... your boyfriend? Sort of? You still don't have his phone number. So. Um. What now? You order overpriced pizza and queue up a campy horror movie. What the fuck are you even doing. You don't really think he's going to murder you anymore, but... still. Is the suburban massacre scene gonna give him ideas? Turns out, no. He doesn't like gore, even when the blood is neon pink. He gets upset. Like, really upset. Shaky and green, like he might puke on you. He can't stop scratching that scaly spot on his neck.

Tenko, are you crying? Fucking hell, did you just trigger him? Of course he has a traumatic past, it's carved all over his face. You're so fucking stupid. You don't know how to make it right. You want to hug him, kiss him... anything. But he's never really touched you, and you're too afraid to push now. It ruins the whole night. He leaves without explaining anything. Doesn't even say goodbye. He just. Leaves. Maybe you'll never see him again. Maybe that's for the best. Your chest hurts. - - - He shows up at your door a few weeks later. You haven't heard from him since that disastrous movie night. You had pretty much accepted that you'd broken up with a boyfriend you never actually had. But no. Apparently not.

This time, he’s brought his own entertainment. He's holding a boxed set of some show you're not familiar with. You're distracted by these weird little half-gloves he's wearing, like a cyberpunk hacker. That's a new look, and even if it's a bit edgelord adjacent, he makes it look cool. You tell him as much. It's the first time you've let on how attractive you find him. He's wearing a tight black shirt with a deep, deep V-neck. That's distracting too.

He clears his slender throat and doesn't look at you.

You try to apologize for before, but he's acting like it never happened. What are you even talking about? Have you seen this OVA or not? Get out of the way and let him in already. You've watched three episodes now, but you still have no idea what this stupid anime is about. You can't pay attention to a single frame. All you can think about is how his arm has crept up behind your shoulders. A few inches more and he'll be holding you. Does he... want to hold you? You lean toward him so slowly your spine creaks. One molecule at a time. After a thousand years, your head slides nervously under his chin. His arm comes down, locking you in, fingers clutching your sleeve in a death grip. Even that snobby little pinky. His head tucks down into you hair. A sharp collarbone bites into your cheek. His heartbeat is hard, fast, and irregular. There's not a scrap of fat on him, and as you wrap your arm around his stomach, you think you see a twitch in his pants. Is that just you being desperate? Or... hopeful? This is really happening. --- Soon, you learn that Tenko is a clumsy kisser. It doesn't matter; the fact that he's kissing you at all is good enough for now. His lips are dry, but not half as dry as you expected. There's a slick of menthol helping things along; he's been using something medicated on his lips. Plus, his mouth tastes like he drank a gallon of mouthwash.

All this thrills you more than a little, because it means he came here wanting to impress you. Wanting you. Full stop. Underneath that minty sting is a strange, worrisome aftertaste, like something rotten. Your brain fires off an alarm. Stop kissing him. Right now. This thing will make you sick. But his hands nervously slide over your body... and you decide not to worry about it. Instead, you kiss him deeper. He makes a sweet, startled little noise. Your brain is a fucking liar. It occurs to you he's probably never done this before.

When you lace your fingers in his and try to pull one of his gloves off, he rips his hand away.

Don't. That’s the only explanation he gives.

No need to ask if it's a quirk thing or a trauma thing. Judging by how jittery he gets, it's probably both. You remember the way his hands almost float over objects without ever holding them. Maybe his touch is dangerous. Maybe that's why his face looks like that.

Maybe you should learn more about him before things go way too far...

No. It can't be that bad. Now that he's in your arms, everything frightening about him evaporates. He's vulnerable. He's alone. He's shaking a little. Has anyone else ever seen this side of him? You want to keep him all to yourself, just like this.

So what if he has to touch you with gloves on? You've heard of worse quirk-related inconveniences.

It's okay, Tenko. Do you want to keep going?

You put his hands back on you and wait for him to kiss you again. It doesn't take long.

---

You open his pants. He's long and thin, calloused even here. Every part of him feels untouched, unloved. You hold him tight and squeeze.

It doesn't seem to occur to him to please you in return. He looks afraid. Confused. You're sure you scared him earlier with the glove thing. Is this too much? No. He gasps and leans into you. The tiniest, broken please.

He cums in your hand right away, face buried in your shoulder, his eyes wet and hidden.

I have to go, he says. Over and over and over.

It's okay, Tenko.

You know he doesn't want to.

- - - - - (oops I wrote more)

#Shigaraki #Shigaraki Tomura #Shimura Tenko #Shigaraki x reader #Shigaraki x you #Shigaraki x y/n #gender neutral reader #shigaraki headcanons #mha #bnha #fred writes

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dontgotothenetherworld · 4 years

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i myself am cruel and unusual

one day i thought up the line, “lyds what is it you say? 'because i myself am cruel and unusual'?" and this story really blossomed around that one idea. this was really fun to write, and i went a bit outside my usual writing style, so i hope y’all enjoy this!

beetleb*bes, don’t touch this.

2271 words

cw: mention of murder

lydia lounged on the sofa, leafing through her novel, a gothic spanish mystery that she found behind a dusty stack at her local book store. it was quiet, with charles at work, barbara, delia, and adam out shopping, and beetlejuice attending to business in the netherworld, lydia had the house all to herself.

lydia wasn’t used to the silence. it disturbed her. between the off-putting difference in her normal surroundings, and reading about people being conveniently murdered, lydia was on edge. her shoulders were tensed. every few sentences, she’d glance around, searching for something else out of the norm.

she’d learned from the last time she was home alone. beetlejuice had said he was going to be out, but he hid. he played the long game, and after hours of blending into the background, he scared her, and he scared her good.

rather proud, lydia had gloated that she couldn’t be scared, and the afternoon was a chip to her ego that she’d rather forget.

lydia enjoyed reading, but often found it hard to focus, so she was cherishing this day. even though a little voice in the back of her mind telling her, “do your chemistry homework!”, she kept on.

a low popping sound made its way to her ears. lydia looked up to see the familiar pin striped suit.

”that was horrible. did you even try?” lydia closed her book, keeping her place with her index finger.

”try what?” beetlejuice had a distant look in his eyes.

”to scare me. duh.” lydia replied.

”i wasn’t trying to scare ya, lyds. anyway, if i wanted to, i definitely could.” beetlejuice said quickly. “by the way, what’s that thing that you usually say?”

”what thing?”

”y’know, the whole, uh, “because i myself am cruel and unusual” thing.”

lydia stared at him blankly. “this is a joke, right?”

”no, is it or is it not what you say, come on lyds i need an answer quick.”

”i say “because i, myself am strange and unusual.”” lydia said, her face in an expression of annoyance.

”thanks lyds! you’re the best!” another pop, and beetlejuice was gone.

lydia puzzled over why the ghost would need to know her catchphrase that she didn’t even say very often, before resolving in light giggles.

”cruel and unusual…” lydia muttered to herself before returning to her book.

now safely assured that beetlejuice wasn’t going to try to scare her, lydia sunk back into the cushions, and lost herself in the book. she kept reading, turning each page with vigor, desperate to see how the story ended. what did it all mean? how did all these little clues fit together?

lydia wasn’t able to keep track of all the hints toward the mystery, so she was solely relying on the pages to figure it out for her.

her eyes widened as-

”lydia! we’re home!” delia called from the front door.

lydia shushed her as her eyes skipped over the words.

”we got c-” delia continued, confused, before lydia shushed her again. she had to read as fast as physically possible.

lydia had to put her book down. she wasn’t yet finished, but she figured it out.

”as i was saying, we got cookies from that cute new place next to the bank. spoiler alert, i already tried one, and they’re delicious!”

lydia fake scoffed, “spoilers.” she said playfully.

adam peaked out from behind a wall, “where you referencing..” lydia nodded. “yes!” adam pumped his fist in the air.

delia asked, “what were you referencing?”

”i doubt you know it.”

”c’mon, tell me.”

lydia sighed, “doctor who.”

”who?”

”doctor who. more specifically, river song.”

”you’re just saying random words in a random order, you can’t do that just to confuse me! i’m onto you!” delia shouted as lydia, with book in hand, made her way up the stairs and to her room.

”i’m not trying to confuse you, delia! it’s a real thing!” lydia shouted back, before closing her door. she propped her pillow up against her headboard, and slipped her soundproof headphones over her ears, searching for that same serenity she had while reading earlier.

i didn’t quite work, she was still able to hear a bit of a commotion going on downstairs, but it was fine. she only had a few pages of resolution left anyway.

five minutes later, lydia hopped back down the stairs and into the kitchen, with one side of her headphones off her ear. “so,” she started, “i was told we have cookies.”

earlier and a week later to that day, lydia was practically buzzing. her birthday had been that previous wednesday, and she had only asked for one thing; to get her hair done.

now, in the hair salon, accompanied by delia and a ghostly adam, it was about to happen. her hair was presently a little longer than shoulder length and an inky black, with her natural brown roots showing slightly. lydia explained to the hairdresser how she wanted it; a blonde bob.

the trio was there nearly all day. which was a good thing, because charles, barbara, and beetlejuice were working away back home. lydia had claimed that she didn’t want a birthday party, but her family suspected it was because she didn’t want to have to invite any of her school friends. so, they were throwing a family-only party. a surprise party, decked out with as many black or purple decorations as they could buy, with quite a few handmade ones as well.

beetlejuice and charles were in charge of all the decorations, so to say the overall effect was eclectic would be an understatement.

barbara, who had recently discovered her passion for baking, was baking a cake. the batter was mostly chocolate, but there was a second, vanilla, batter throughout the cake, in an attempted spider web kind of look. it didn’t really translate until barbara explained it.

beetlejuice kept crossing through the kitchen to sneak some plum colored icing.

”have you put lipstick on?” asked charles to beetlejuice.

”no, why? do you think i should?” said beetlejuice. when he opened his mouth, charles could see his purple stained teeth and tounge.

deciding to ignore this, charles said, “oh, nevermind.” and went back to draping streamers, mentally calculating how long all of it would take to clean up.

the group of party planners met lydia and her entourage on the steps in front of the house. they all commented flattery as lydia showed off her new look.

”okay, now close your eyes.” said barbara.

lydia was confused, but obliged. barbara held her hand, and guided her through the door and into the home.

once safely inside, she dropped her hand, and ran to the kitchen. “don’t open your eyes yet!” she shouted as adam lit the last candle on top. barbara picked up the cake, and the couple walked back to the living room.

”you can open them know.” said charles.

lydia opened her eyes to see halloween in december. there were fake cobwebs and fake spiders everywhere. (at least lydia hoped they were fake. truth be told, the real things freaked her out a bit.)

”thank you! thank you guy so much!” tears were fighting to break away from her eyes. lydia gave everyone a big hug, except for barbara, who was still holding the cake. when she turned to the ghost, everyone began singing happy birthday, and lydia finally started crying full on tears.

she blew out the candles, all sixteen of them, in one breath.

”okay so important question; cake or presents first?” asked beetlejuice, who not so secretly hope cake was first.

”presents?” asked lydia, turning around. she finally spotted a small pile sitting where she normally resided on the sofa. “well, i have to get to those first.” lydia walked over to them.

”i’m just going to put this down in the kitchen, i’ll be right back.” said barbara.

when barbara returned, lydia gave her the hug that she owed her, before sitting down to inspect the presents.

”which one should i open first…” there were four relatively small packages. charles’ gift to her being the trip to the salon, of course.

”you should save the best for last, so not mine.” said beetlejuice.

lydia chuckeld, and started on her gift from delia. a black crystal necklace.

”you probably don’t want to know what it does, but i thought i would fit with your whole,” delia gestured with her hands. “vibe.”

”you got it just right.” lydia grinned. “you’ll have to rip it from my cold, dead body in order to get me to stop wearing it.” she said, as she fastened it around her neck.

delia tried to ignore the gruesome comment, but everyone could tell it bugged her.

”i hope you like it!” adam said as lydia began to rip open the gift he had gotten her.

she opened the cardboard box to find a lilac mug, with a ceramic cat at the bottom, and a seemingly infinite number of different teas.

lydia held up the mug and exclaimed, “just like your dog one! now we can be tea buddies!”

”only if you finally try my special earl grey.” adam pointed to a tea at the top of the pile.

”it’ll be a struggle, but i’ll get through it for you.” lydia joked.

moving on to barbara’s gift, and with beetlejuice getting a little impatient (maybe this whole “save the best for last” thing wasn’t really a good idea for this impatient demon), lydia got to the gift quickly. she held up the dark material. “a leather jacket!” lydia immediately went to put it on.

”it’s faux leather, of course. and it’s kind of boring right now, i know that, so i fully expect you to do your whole punk-y diy thing to it.” said barbara.

the jacket didn’t quite fit. it was a little large, but it didn’t entirely go over her hands. it was exactly how she wanted it. “thank you, so much, barbara! i couldn’t of picked it out better myself.”

barbara smiled.

”okay! best for last! open mine now, lyds!” beetlejuice shoved his, hand-wrapped, package into her hands. “read the card first!” he said as lydia inspected the questionable wrapping.

she carefully opened the bright yellow envelope. inside was a piece of light gray construction paper, folded in half to make a card. on the front was a crayon drawing of herself and beetlejuice, high-fiving. the two had sunglasses on, and lydia was saying, “because i myself am cool and unusual.” in beetlejuice’s sloppy handwriting. inside, was a message that read, “love u lots lyds happy sweet 16 & i promise i wont try to marry you again xoxo beeblebouse”

”beej, thank you s-”

”you haven’t even opened your gift, c’mon, open it!” beetlejuice bounced his leg impatiently.

lydia picked up the rectangular box and shook it a little. it felt like nothing was in there. lydia raised an eyebrow.

”open it!”

inside was a square piece of paper, with black words on it; “i owe u 1 kitty”

”beej, what?”

a pop and he had disappeared. the rest of the family looked around, confused.

another pop, and beetlejuice returned, but this time with multiple kitties in hand.

”i call this one sunshine, and this one bastard, and this one mary jane, and this one beans, and this one our supreme and almighty ruler.” beetlejuice pointed at the different cats. “but you can name the one you pick whatever you want, these are just ideas, anyway, pick one!”

lydia was attacked by the little animals. one kitty, a white one with a black spot over its eye licked lydia’s hand. she picked it up. “this one.”

”ah yes, beans. good choice.” beetlejuice said, although he murmured something about our supreme and almighty ruler underneath his breath.

”you should, “charles cleared his throat, “probably take the rest of these back to where they came from.”

”right! yes!” beetlejuice snapped and all the other kitties floated up. he went around plucking them out of the air until he had them all, and pop! went to return them.

lydia hugged beans to her chest.

”are you going to keep the name beans?” asked delia.

”yeah, probably.

”good boy, beans is.” said adam, placing his hand on lydia’s shoulder. and then after a moment, “beans is a boy, right?”

”as far as i know, yeah. but i don’t think cats can really communicate to us what their gender is.” lydia looked up at her ghost dad.

another pop and beetlejuice reappeared. “who’s up for some cake?” he lead the march to the kitchen.

”okay, so, it’ll taste great, it just looks kinda off.” barbara said, getting a knife out to cut slices for everyone. “it’s supposed to have spiderwebs on the inside, not because i think spiderwebs are your favorite thing or anything, lydia, it’s because i thought it would be easy. i was wrong.”

charles placed the plates on the table. “well, let’s dig in!”

barbara cut lydia her piece first, which was practically a quarter of the entire thing. “what are you talking about? barbara, this looks so good!” she shoveled a bite into her mouth and her eyes went wide. “oh wow it tastes incredible too.”

”thank you, lydia” barbara smiled.

once the others had their pieces, beetlejuice took the rest of the cake. it wasn’t a completely unreasonably sized piece so nobody stopped him.

they spent the rest of the night watching lydia’s favorite movies; an odd mix of horor, comedy, and disney.

lydia went to sleep knowing that her sixteenth year was going to be a good one.

@meangirlsx @meangirlmurphy @eliza-is-confused @boredomimi @book--butterfly

just by the way, the book lydia’s reading at the beginning is called marina by carlos ruiz zafon. i’m reading the english translation right now (hopefully the ending is good!) and it just feels like something that lydia would like.

#beetlejuice #beetlejuice musical #beetlejuice broadway #beetlejuice fanfiction #lawrence beetlejuice shoggoth #lydia #lydia deetz #adam maitland #barbara maitland #delia #delia deetz #charles deetz #fic

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marchioness-caprina · 3 years

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*:..｡o○Ruishiro Takizaku○o｡..:*

Basic : Ruishiro Takizaku a 18 Year Old Hero Apprentice who Works under the Under Hound Agency. He has a height of 6'2 with a lean and muscular build, He Prefers to Be Called Rui instead of His First Name. His Hero Name is ' Morphicus '

Appearance : He Is a Rather intimidating Young Man; if his Height and Build isn't enough to scare people then The Sharp and seemingly permanent glare he'd usually show would do the trick. He has a pair of Transparent eyes which reflects the Purest Color of an Amethyst, Short Ashy Blue Hair that's usually Styled in a Messy and Lazy Manner. He has Ear Piercings on both ears and his Fingers are filled with stainless steel Rings. His usual attire consist of a Black Button Up shirt, Black Jeans and a High Collared Jacket and finally Heavy Combat Boots. His Expressions are Rather complex but the most prominent Expression he wears is the usual Death Glare that never seems to disappear or the infamous ' Stone cold Bitch Face '

Personality : Though He may Seem Cold and Distant at First especially with his Intimidating Expression; You Better hope it stays That way because he is actually an Asshole at Heart. He's Sarcastic, Brutal and Cruel with his Words and He wouldn't even care what that person's Status is may it be a president, the no. Hero, a Family Member or His Lover, It wouldn't matter. This Trait of His Gets Him into a Lot of Unnatural Trouble since it's his Nature to be argumentative and Hostile and he seems to have a hidden world of Remarks to match his Wits. But during One of the Very Rare moments where his Asshole meter has reduced half way he is actually very Sweet but has an odd way of showing it. He lives for the chase and it's one of it. Generally he is like any human being, Complex. But if the situation calls for it he is polite and respectful to those People he hasn't formed a solid opinion for yet. If you want annoying then go To Rui; He Tests People's wits and Irritates them unconsciously just to see where their True Feelings Lies; He has a big brain so his analytical skills is beyond average, he is observant and knows How to Manipulate a situation that's being laid in front of him. So being an actor, lying and charming his way in is not a big deal.

Quirk : Umbra Morphology; The Ability To Morph into Something Inhumane By the use of Darkness or Any objects that Holds the Color 'Black'. When the Ability is used; Black Sticky Viscous Substance will crawl onto the User's Chosen Body Part for Transformation and slowly Consume that Body Part while Forming the desired form of the User. But the color stays on and unchangeable.

How it was acquired/ Small backstory: in the First Place He was deemed Useless by Society and was lesser than Trash Meaning; He was Quirkless. His Family was surprisingly accepting of his current state but He Himself did not Like how low he had stood with the constant Mockery of those people who had quirks. He wanted to acquire his own Quirk. He wanted to acquire Power for Himself and Show everyone that he was worth something and because of this selfish desire of His He began to search desperately; He searched up the Black web and Looked for any possible ways to acquire power without Having a Quirk. Sure there were sites that offered to use his body as a Lab Rat but that may possibly get him killed. So he kept searching and searching until he stumbled onto a site that offered a Mystery Box. It was Cheap; Too cheap that it was suspicious but he was curious. He wanted to know what was inside, could it be a gadget that could grant him Power? Could it be body parts instead? Whatever it is ; something urged him to buy it. And that's where he slowly began to ruin his own Life.

Fast Forward to a Few Days; The package arrived and to his utter Disappointment it was a price of Paper in a Box. He paid for something like this. A paper.... No a contract, a Black eerie paper that had letters written with white ink. He later decided that the Site he bought it from was a scam because when he searched it up again; There was nothing. He didn't bother reading the paper at all. And one night when he was answering his Assignments, his eyes drifted towards the black paper on his desk and when he took a closer look the words were not in the language that he spoke of. It was an ancient language; that's all he could confirm but judging by the output it really was a contract . So thinking that it would be fun he signed the contract and that's where things began to get scary ( I'll skip the other stuff)

He Later found out that The contract he signed was a Contract to be a Vessel of The Demon Of Darkness Umbrachus, A demon that had forced Rui To Accept it in his Body now his Body isn't his own. Sure Rui was happy to know that he had a 'quirk' now but later when he found out what price he needed to pay was the cause of his mass destruction. He had plunged himself on his own demise. The Demon craved the Flesh of and Blood of Humans and it forced Rui to eat Raw Flesh. Umbrachus was a demon associated with Wrath, Pride and Greed so if any of those emotions are triggered by Rui then there's a high chance of Umbrachus Gaining Control of his body. The Demon was Toying with Rui; Umbrachus Started Manipulating Rui's surroundings and giving him Hallucinations. Rui feard sleeping because Umbrachus could gain Control over his body whole he was passed out. And Finally Rui had enough when Umbrachus had nearly Killed His Younger sister due to Hunger; With the incident taking Place Rui Fled. He Fled and Lived in the streets, He fought the demon with all his might and when he was at his wits that's where Hellhound appeared to his rescue. Hell Hound runs a Hero Agency called Under Hound. And this Agency isn't just associate with heroes. They are also Masters of the Occult so Hell Hound who was in a similar situation as Rui took Pity on the Boy and Took him to His Agency where Rui was Given Proper Training to Control the Demon. And soon Rui was given a chance to become a Hero; not a Hero for the public or media but a Hero of The Night. A Hero Who Kills Villains not arrest them.

Trivia Facts

* He Has a Very Bad Sweet tooth And is a Fan of Spicy Food.

* He Was Given a Choice to change his name but he Kept it That way because he Thinks Being called Rui is Cool

* Has a Soft Spot For Dogs

* After Umbrachus Forcefully shared his Body he lost the ability to use Chopsticks and whenever he tries to use them he gets frustrated since it always slips.

* He may Not Look it But he is actually a Big Fan of Sappy Love stories but after Umbrachus entered his Body he started liking Hard Core Gore.

* He used to be Slender and Lanky but Having a Demon inside him had it's Perks.

* He prefers Convenience Store Food Over 5 star Meals.

* He is Bisexual

* He May Have Sadistic Tendencies . He blames it on Umbrachus but Umbrachus spoke otherwise.

* He's an Asshole But He respects Independent women; He was raised by only his Mother being present so he was Disciplined strictly .

* It is mentioned that he is a Fan of Sappy Love stories so surprisingly he is actually very romantic and loving if he ever finds a Lover.

* He is a Master of Lying but He prefers the Truth over lies since he is used to Saying unfiltered insults Opinions.

* A Seafood addict

* He may or May Not be Into Witchcraft

* Can speak Fluent Bullshit

* He can Form Umbra Claws, or even sink himself into the darkness to come deal his presence so he is mostly sent on stealth missions because of this advantage.

* Babies Creep Him out. Don't Ask. It just Does.

* He can't smile for shit and when he tries it comes out as a mocking smirk or a sadistic grin.

* Has Perfect control. Over his Facial expressions but tends to keep it Monotoned and Bitch-Like.

* An actual Dork and Goes to Animal Cafe

* a Fan of Musicals Especially Phant of the Opera.

* Surprisingly has Good Singing Voice

* If he's not pissing anyone off then he's flirting with someone without noticing it.

* Can Cook a whole feast but eats Cup noodles instead.

* Owns 2 large bookshelves filled with Books he never reads. Or even has the patience to read one.

* Has a Dog Named Cat.

* He claims to be allergic to the cold so his clothes are mostly sweaters, jackets, hoodies, anything thats warm. Even if it's in the middle of the summer with everyone sweating bullets you'll see him walking around casually with heavy clothes on.

* He has a mild Disdain for overconfident brats with flashy Quirks.

* Shameless with his Opinions

* Likes Blueberries

* Fast Food is his Only Food.

Note: I don't Exactly Have a Drawn Picture of Him since I'm still Contemplating a Few Details but I did make a Rough Appearance Idea of Him in Picrew. This Picture is Not Mine To own I'm just showing you guys what he'd Mostly Look Like. The art belongs to a Talented Artists with a Bright Future ahead. If you know them. Then give them my regards and Thanks ^^ . I Repeat This is Just an Example ^^ the Picture is NOT mine.

Extra Note : If You Have a Few Questiona for him then Don't Hesitate to Mention Him in your Ask ^^ . You are Free to Interact with him.

#Rui Answers #Rui #Marchioness's Oc #Persona #Ruishiro Takizaku

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darkestangel1326 · 4 years

Text

Prologue - This was real life. Right?

Hey lovelies. So I know it is likely no one is going to read this but me but I just had to write this anyway. For me. Posting for the same reason! Fic under the “Keep reading” cut, but here’s how I got here:

This all started when I wondered what would happen if MC was a scientist. Or a science grad student. But then I thought, what would be enough to compel a scientist or science grad student to stop their sciencing realistically for any amount of time? Because as my previous PI says, every scientist becomes a mad scientist at least in one point in their careers for their research - this is especially true for grad students.

Then, I just never understood the whole returning a phone excuse Unknown gave MC to lure her into Rika’s apartment. Like MC, with her own phone, is gonna return a phone she doesn’t even have, just because Unknown was persistent? He even says he’s a student in the States who will eventually return home so what was with the urgency to go to find the owner? If he really wanted to return the phone, he could’ve mailed it since he has the address right? We know he does because he sends MC there. It just always bothered me.

Finally, I wanted to slightly self-insert to make the MC (Emme C.) a bit more human so that it even if you couldn’t change her choices, it would still be entertaining. I heavily relied on second person, to help give it the mystic messenger vibe though I’m not sure it works.

This prologue is some character building for Emme C. (Actual name: Emme Cee), brief OC appearances and, for my sanity, this is all taking place in the US. TBH I’m not even sure how deep I want to go with this story. I just know I needed to write it.

So without further ado!

“My biggest fear and why? Hmmm,” you mulled it over and took another sip of your beer, after your lab mates glared at you for an answer.

Or former labmates - you were leaving for grad school in a few weeks so this was kind of your farewell social. Even with your general distaste of beer, even you had to admit this one was really good.

You closed your eyes and sheepishly rubbed your neck. “This is gonna sound weird but a time loop,” you answered hesitantly. “It just makes me uneasy to be stuck in never-ending cycle, replaying the same scenario over and over again with no end in sight.”

“True but we are in academic research!” Marie answered, a teasing lilt to her voice that transformed into a chuckle.

“Yeah you might have to deal with it during your Masters program, especially the thesis stage.” Whitney continued, joining in with a laugh.

“Don’t remind me,” you giggled as you took another sip - a longer sip - of your beer. “But that’s not exactly what I mean either” you persisted, a bit more seriously.

I’m afraid of replaying the same day, the same events, the same interactions over and over again, not knowing why or how to stop it,” you finished more seriously. You took another sip of the fizzy drink and felt your equilibrium teeter a bit.

“You mean like that movie Groundhog Day?” Aurora quietly inserted.

“I haven’t seen that movie but if it’s like what I said, then yes, that’s it,” you answered, your fizzy drink now gone.

“Sorry wait. Why are you afraid of time loops? I think I missed that part. Wouldn’t replaying the same day and seeing how your choices change events be a good thing?” Sally asked. Technically, she was completely right - repeatability was one of the sacred ideals of science after all. Plus, If you really thought about it, you hadn’t actually said why you’re afraid of time loops, just that you are.

“I’m afraid of never moving forward - of never progressing, no matter how hard I try or work. A time loop means, yes, I’ll know what my choices would entail, but not how to escape or what the triggering event for my release could be. I could replay the time period of the same few weeks but for years without knowing how to escape and move on. And, I guess, since it took me so long to even start my Master’s and I felt like I might never be able to, this fear was just born,” you admitted, pouring more beer for yourself.

I mean an actual time loop where every single thing happens the exact same way, down to the underlying rhythm of conversation. And where you can’t escape until you figure out the common problem then fix it. How would you escape it? And what if you mess up, in different ways, forever? Who would want that?!

—————————————————————————

You awoke with a sigh, realizing you had that dream again. Or was it a flashback since this happened a few weeks ago? You shrugged your shoulders and got to work sorting boxes. You were set to start on-campus work in a few weeks so you were just trying to do the bare minimum research wise. Plus, you wanted to really focus on decorating your new apartment and get acquainted with the town since you’d be living there for the next few years.

After a few hours of scrambling and organizing, you sat on the floor (you were still in the process of buying furniture), and looked at your emails.

One in particular caught your attention, so much so that you took off your glasses and rubbed your eyes, almost laughing at such a cartoony response. The subject line of this email was what confused you. It read “missing research paper - need citation”. It was an unfamiliar email, moreover, it was sent to your previous college email, which was linked to your past research publications.

Curious, you bit the inside of your cheek and read the email.

“Dear Emme,

Hope this email finds you well. I am a student from XXX University and have been working on a research project concerning XXX. Your research was one of the most recent and prominent examples as to why this area needs further study, however, I have not been able to access the paper I saved as a bookmark in my web browser. After extensive searching, I have been unable to find the original paper or even one of the articles that referenced it - almost as if the article has completely disappeared from existence! Is there a reason the research article is gone? If not, could you provide me with an idea of where it is and the proper citation for my research article?”

what. whAT. WHAT!?

Your research couldn’t be gone! This didn’t make any sense! Yes it was a few years old, but it couldn’t be gone from the web! There are research papers from the 1960s that are archived and accessible online for goodness sake!

You had to calm down. Take deep breaths. You continued trying to breathe as you pulled out your research flash drive. You looked for the paper on your there and found it, sighing in relief. It grounded you, reminding you that your work did exist. Just as you were set to attach the file and corresponding citation to the email, your internet stopped.

Scratch that, your entire laptop stopped.

You groaned. Yes, this was an older, refurbished model, but it’s been working fine. The screen distorted for a second, as if the extra pixel boxes emphasized the frozen nature of your screen. Before you even had time to process it, your laptop unfroze and you breathed a sigh of relief.

Thank heavens. You had just moved and weren’t sure you could realistically afford a new laptop anytime soon. As you look over your screen, however, your relief shifts to panic.

omg. oMG. OMG!

It’s gone. Your research files. The ones on your laptop and on your flash drive. The email is gone. Before you can refresh the page you get logged out. You can’t even log into your old email account - Error 404 Not Found.

Your heart races. Then, it aches. You worked so hard on those projects. They were part of your scientific fabric and now both were just gone. Your years of work, gone in seconds.

You felt like crying. But you decide not to, at least not until you’re in the shower where the tears can blend in with the cascading liquid as you sing emo music.

For now, you decide a quick walk and some fresh air are what you need, so you grab your keys and head for the mailbox. You’ve only lived in this apartment for a week but you check the mail constantly in an effort to get in the habit rather than because you expect something.

But today, you did get something. A small parcel with no return address. Curious, you take that and the grocery flyers to your apartment and open the package there.

A phone? It’s from the same company as yours, just a slightly older model.

You blink at it, almost telepathically asking it what it’s doing in your mailbox. You decide to turn it in to the mail service and are about to put it back in its envelope when you notice a note.

“Charge me”

“What the hell is going on today?” You mutter as you pull out your charger and plug it into the phone.

You sit on the floor with this new phone in hand and sigh. “Why am I even taking orders from a mysterious note for anyway?”

Just then the screen lights up. There’s no passcode so opening the phone was super easy. The phone’s screen and minimal app selection almost made you think it was new, but the lack of setting it up told you that wasn’t the case. Who would buy this phone and not use it? And why did they send it to you?

There is one app that calls to you, mostly because you’ve never seen it before. And because it was unlike the rest of the default apps on the screen.

RFA? What’s that?

Just then, the screen turns dark and green characters zoom up through the screen. You sucked with all tech but even you knew this reaction was abnormal. You swore you didn’t press the app but seeing the phone continue reacting, you become less confident.

“Hello?”

You stare at the screen. ‘Unknown’ was messaging you.

You respond. Stupidly. Naively. And without thinking about the consequences.

Because this was real life. Right?

What’s the worse that could happen?

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

I’m debating taking this next part a few routes...we’ll see what I decide...

If you, by any chance made it all the way down here, can you drop a reblog or something with your thoughts? Was Emme Cee likable? Did the flow make sense? Do you like where this is going? Let me know!

#mystic messenger #mysme #mysme fic prologue #DA writes #This was Real Life. Right?

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danielradcliff · 4 years

Text

those dark web unboxing videos piss me off bc besides the fact that they’re so clearly fake they’re not even like 10 percent real like these people aren’t even buying them from scammers with bitcoin after watching a few I was like ‘there’s a business opportunity here’ and so I tried to see if I could sell my own fake mystery boxes to dumbasses on the internet but there’s not even a MARKET. the DARK WEB MYSTERY BOX MARKET ITSELF is fake. I cant even make money off these shit videos... the people who post the youtube videos control the industry...

#:^(#but god knows I tried #if you want a dark web mystery box dm me I take bitcoin and monero #to clarify the main youtubers OBVIOUSLY make their own boxes and post them #im trying to make money off the COMMENTERS who BELIEVE IT #nevermind actually realizing now that if you believe them then youre probably too stupid to use bitcoin #time is a flat circle

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fmpheidi · 4 years

Photo

Upon doing further research for my Fmp, i have decided on aiming to create a dark web mystery box filled with cursed items and completed with decorations on the outside. Here are some photos that interested me alot, and what i’ll be taking some inspiration off for creating the aesthetic to my box. I’d probably have to invest in halloween decorations like crime scene tape for the outside of the box, and this whole project has a budget of £20 to create. I can either invest in creating my own stickers or buy cheap ones from online, but i want this to look as real as possible.

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zenonaa · 5 years

Photo

Read here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18444209

Comments: Commissioned by @matrioshka a while back. Thank you for your patience!

***

Aloysius Pennyworth came from a family of butlers. His father had been a butler, and his father’s father had been a butler, and so on, back through generations upon generations. Though Aloysius had admittedly been somewhat unruly in his early years, mixing with the wrong crowds and at one point getting acquitted of a double murder, he didn’t regret returning to his roots and dedicating the rest of his life to assisting others as a butler.

In any case, being a butler could be just as eventful as being a gang member, especially when one was the head butler of a fourteen year old billionaire.

The door to Byakuya Togami’s bedroom opened, leading into a space that could fit a bungalow inside of it. Such a large room was necessary, after all, as Byakuya required a place that could accommodate all of his possessions, like his piano, violin, pool table, king-sized bed, computers and books upon books upon books, just as a few examples. Everything was neatly arranged on a dark wood laminate flooring bordered by off-white walls. Byakuya’s mother had instructed that the room be furnished with warm hues and wooden accents, but the potted plant in one corner had been Aloysius’s idea. A nice splash of green.

On the other side of the room, Byakuya sat at his desk, and on hearing the door, he turned around on his swivel chair with his hands steepled. Aloysius approached, revealing his withered face to the other, and strode forward with his pale blue eyes fixed on Byakuya.

He stopped a short distance away.

“You wanted me?” asked Aloysius, holding his hands down in front of himself.

Byakuya gave a nod and turned his chair back around so he faced his computer again.

“I need you to sign up for an eBay account so I can buy something from it,” Byakuya told him.

Here lay a pause.

“e...Bay?” repeated Aloysius slowly, drawing his face into a frown that added more wrinkles. “I think I’ve heard of that. It’s a dating website, is it not?”

“What? No. It’s not.” Byakuya’s brow creased, and talking matter-of-factly, he explained, “It’s a website that deals with auctions and consumer to consumer sales. I wish to purchase something on the website that someone is selling.”

Aloysius raised his eyebrows a little.

“What is stopping you?” he asked.

Byakuya pursed his lips.

“Age,” he replied.

At his young age, barely in his teens, Byakuya had amassed a vast amount of money, not just from his family but from his own ventures too. It couldn’t, however, buy some things, such as years that he could add to his age right now so he could legally sign up to an American multinational corporation.

Aloysius studied Byakuya’s earnest face.

“This sounds important,” said Aloysius seriously. “What is it that you wish to buy?”

Byakuya didn’t hesitate for even a second.

“Genocider Syo’s scissors,” said Byakuya.

Ah, yes. That unidentified serial killer murdering all those men. Their scissors. Aloysius stooped down and pulled out his reading glasses from his shirt pocket. He put them on and squinted at the screen.

“You may need to assist me in signing up,” said Aloysius, resting a hand on the back of Byakuya’s chair.

“Fine. Let’s do it now, before someone else buys it,” Byakuya demanded, and Aloysius watched him open up the necessary tabs on his internet browser.

Now, Aloysius wasn’t the most tech-savvy person but he could work a computer, and he had an email address, though he let Byakuya fill in a form using Aloysius’s personal details. Besides, Byakuya could type faster anyway, and Byakuya only paused when he came to a box asking for a password for the account.

“You choose something,” said Aloysius. “I don’t think I will be using the site for myself, so it’s not important that I remember it.”

Byakuya flexed his fingers. A multitude of passwords were available, yet that abundance of choice made it harder to choose just one. He scraped his teeth against his lips in thought and after some deliberation, he typed in a certain star from a constellation, with various symbols and numbers thrown in that would only mean something to him... and Aloysius.

With a final click on the mouse, the page on the screen changed, now showing a lot less text, and Byakuya straightened up.

“You will have a confirmation email in your inbox,” Byakuya informed him. “You need to click a link in it. Then I can start using the account to shop.”

“I shall open it swiftly,” said Aloysius. He stepped back and asked, “Would you like a snack?”

“Coffee and kołacz,” said Byakuya, still facing his computer.

“As you wish.”

Aloysius bowed then left the room. Byakuya opened the tab with the auction page again and stared at the photograph of the scissors. There had been a few bids placed on it, but he planned to forego that tedious process and purchase them at a certain high price. After he bought them, all he had to do was wait for them to arrive.

And that he did.

They took four weeks to be delivered to this mansion. Not ‘his’. ‘This’. The Togami Conglomerate owned several around the world, of course, and the mansion he currently lived at was the one closest to his private school. While he waited for it, Byakuya went about his usual things. Attending classes, participating in extra lessons at home, reading through cold cases, playing on the stock market, attending meetings with other billionaires and listening to aspiring businessmen pitch him possible investments... the usual sort of thing.

Hearing someone rap on his door, Byakuya uttered a curt, “enter,” and the door to his room opened. Aloysius came in with a box. It was paper brown with a sticker slapped onto it.

“I assume that this is your order,” said Aloysius, walking over. “For the past week, I have had emails from the eBay website telling me to leave feedback. It has been quite persistent.”

Aloysius handed the package to Byakuya, who picked away at it until he got it open. He extracted the contents slowly. Swathed in thin layers of foam paper were the scissors, presumably, though he could only feel the general shape of them for now, and he pried the wrapping apart to get to what was inside.

His eyes widened a bit. They looked like scissors. Custom-made scissors, to be precise, with large, curved finger rests. At some point, they must have been cleaned, because there weren’t any blood stains on them. None that he could see, at least.

While Byakuya examined the scissors, Aloysius spoke again.

“I know I said that I doubted I would be using the website for myself, but I was looking at it today and there is a seller who stocks doilies enmasse that have taken my fancy,” confessed Aloysius.

Byakuya didn’t reply, still inspecting the scissors. Aloysius tilted his head to one side.

“Young master?” he said curiously.

“Capital P, Polaris, exclamation mark, hash, lower case B.T. comma, the number thirteen,” said Byakuya in monotone without lifting his gaze. He heard Aloyisus’s footfalls gradually recede until the door shut as Aloysius made his exit.

As for Byakuya, he leaned back in his chair and turned the scissors over in his hands.

Somewhere, in the world, was the original owner. A serial killer who eluded authorities, time and time again. Even the prestigious Kirigiri family of detectives failed to identify who Genocider was. Byakuya thought, if he had access to all the information that the police had about that killer, he would have been able to solve the mystery. Yet, despite being heir to the Togami family, he had been denied access, and when he made a request to his father, his father sent a message demanding that ‘the heir’ not waste time on such matters.

He stroked the scissors with his thumb gently, having only seen them before now in the photo on the seller’s page and in grainy images that he managed to obtain of the crime scene from the dark web.

G.S. was engraved into the upper blade of the scissors.

“Genocider Syo,” he said to himself quietly, and he promised himself that he would be the one to unmask the killer.

It would start with these scissors.

***

The scissors remained in his possession for the next several years. Most of the time, they stayed in a sliding drawer storage box with a matte laminate surface, black and sleek, which Aloysius bought him for one of his birthdays. When he pulled the scissors out, he would study them for a while, trying to imagine their owner. Some internet sleuths theorised that the killer was a ‘he’ and either a high school student or a college student, and they would post photographs of people they thought Syo could possibly be, some dead, some not.

All of them turned out to be wrong.

Byakuya found that out personally.

“Those ain’t mine!”

He flinched. The girl standing opposite him, a head shorter, pierced him with her bright eyes. She grinned as she waved the scissors bought all those years ago that turned out to be fake. Fraudulent. Counterfeit. Never having once belonged to Genocider Syo, or even a lesser known serial killer.

And this girl would know... after all, she was Genocider Syo.

Keeping to his word, and though it took him years, Byakuya learned the identity of the murderer dubbed Genocider Syo. However, the discovery had not turned out like he anticipated. He hadn’t expected to be locked up in a school with fourteen other students, and he hadn’t expected a visitor, a stuttering girl with owl-eye glasses, a shifty gaze and a hunched posture, to come into his room and tell him that she had an alter who was the person who had captured Byakuya’s attention for many, many, many hours.

Her coming to his room? Understandable. That girl followed him around everywhere. But to tell him that she shared a body with a serial killer? Even he felt like she wrenched a rug from beneath him.

The aforementioned alter stood in front of him and flicked her long tongue that always seemed to hang out of her mouth. She tossed the fake scissors that he presented to her over her shoulder. They landed on her bed.

Syo had shown off her actual scissors earlier, during the last trial orchestrated by their captor, an anthropomorphic bear, and she did so again now, taking a set from the leather pouch affixed to her thigh. Her eyes gleamed as she brandished the scissors, her scissors, a thumb and a finger tucked through the metal rings.

“I told you, but in case you don’t want to look up the exact quote, to summarise, all my scissors are handmade,” said Syo. She tipped her head to one side, leaving a beat of silence, and furrowed her brow. “Except the first set. I stole those from a store the same night I murdered that bit character in Shikoku, only for Gloomy to hide them. So I had to make my own from then on, right?”

Byakuya let her continue uninterrupted.

“I didn’t want to keep stealing them,” Syo explained, and she folded her arms over her chest, suddenly sombre. “I’d be like Bobby Leach, doing all that crazy shit and then slipping on an orange peel and dying. If I’m gonna hit the big house, it’ll be for murder, not for stealing, so I made my own, yeah? Like Akina Nakamori has her huskiness, I have my cute trademark too!”

A wide grin lit up her face and obnoxious laughter burst out of her. Byakuya’s eardrums twinged and he shot a glare at her. The first person she mentioned was a British stunt artist from the early twentieth century and the latter person, Byakuya didn’t know, but he assumed she was a celebrity. An idol or an actress. That kind of person.

He slowly pushed up his glasses, not breaking eye contact. After so long, he had Genocider Syo in front of him, and this opportunity to talk to her wouldn’t last. In this mutual killings scenario, there would only be one winner, and so she would perish along with the rest of their supposed classmates. Either she would be killed, or she would kill.

With this in mind, he had come to her room. She wouldn’t be able to get away with murdering him if he was killed here, where she would be the first suspect.

Well, she could still kill him, but he liked a little danger sometimes.

Byakuya just wished she would stop getting sidetracked.

“They’re fake, but those scissors you got are initialled... That’s real corny!” Syo threw her head back and laughed again, clutching her sides. When she flushed that out of her system, she fixed her eyes on him, smirking. “I didn’t come up with the name. Saw it in the papers first and it struck a chord. Until then, I didn’t have a name and had to use Gloomy’s.”

“The police were under the assumption that you were male,” Byakuya told her, watching as Syo swayed restlessly.

He wished she would keep still too. Everything about her gave him a headache.

“That’s because the police are morons, but can you blame them?” she said. “My parents and even the doctor who held me up like I was a cartoon lion when I was shit out of someone’s vagina thought I was a boy.”

She stopped rocking from side to side and eyed him.

“But Gloomy’s a girl, wouldn’t you say?” she added.

“Undeniably,” said Byakuya without having to think.

Syo studied him some more.

“Seems like you’re a real big fan of me,” she said. She raised her scissors, opened them, then shut them again. Her grin broadened, full of teeth. “I can imagine you bent over your desk, pictures of my work all around you, one of your hands on the edge of your desk and your other hand underneath it, blanking your blank!”

Byakuya felt a jolt. His chest clenched. This woman had no filter at all. He glowered and spoke through his teeth. “Whatever you’re insinuating is incorrect.”

“Never said it happened! Just that I can imagine it,” she chirped as she wiggled her chin at him. She smacked her hands onto her cheeks. “Gloomy’s not the only one with a boundless imagination! How about instead of this stuffy interview, we get to the chase! You want to know about my crimes? How about we reenact it? You would look so cute on my wall! I don’t normally do this, but I could even give you a BJ! It’s the stuff of fanfictions!”

His face grew hotter. “We will not do that at all,” he said, his voice cracking as he raised it despite his efforts to not show any heightened emotion around her.

Only she could get under his skin like that. Not even the mastermind managed it like Syo did. And oh how he hated it. The difference between Touko and Syo was stark. While Touko mumbled and fidgetted and had a passion for novels, romance and classics in particular, Syo squawked and danced about and seemed like the sort of person who spurned novels and drooled over trashy yaoi.

“Saving yourself for marriage?” she said, simpering, and she flumped back onto the bed. “Or did no one ever teach you how to get dirty? I guess because your dad’s seed got planted up your lady in a lab, he never learned. Bet he was a virgin.”

Byakuya hesitated. It was true that his mother had been artificially inseminated with his father’s sperm in a private Togami-owned clinic. This was something that he didn’t go around telling anyone, even her, as if that would have deterred her from her advances.

But she also used past tense, like he stopped being a virgin, or he died.

He pinched his lips together. Whatever. Most could have come to the same conclusion as her.

“You’re so hot even when you’re pulling faces!” she crowed in delight, and she drummed her heels against her bed. “Argh, do me do me do me, Byakuya-sama!”

Syo hugged herself, shuddering. He refused to dignify any of that. She settled down a bit. Her eyes flitted to him.

“You got any other questions for me, Byakuya-sama?” she asked.

“Why did you start killing people?” he said, peering over at her and not approaching the bed. “Your victims are all men. You said they were attractive, but is that really it?”

“Eh? Why does an artist paint? Why does a singer perform?” she retorted, like talking about the weather or something equally mundane. “Why does a sister dedicate herself to her twin sister even if she’ll get stabbed in the back or skewered by spears in the end? It’s a feeling. Passion.”

Byakuya tried to speak, to request her to elaborate, but Syo sat up and talked over him.

“Hey, hey. You’re an interviewer. A sexy interviewer, but an interviewer all the same, not a freaking psychiatrist,” she said firmly. “It’s who I am, okay? Some people are born with red hair, and some are like me, killers.”

Syo motioned toward herself. He stared at her.

“There is no one like you,” he told her plainly.

She didn’t react at first. Then she snorted and flailed happily.

“Aw, you’re making me blush! You’re overthinking it, Darling.” Syo steadied herself, and while she still grinned, there was an edge to it. “Listen, if I wanted to tell my life story, I’d go to that sister of yours, Shinaboo-boo the bear.”

He inhaled through his nose but otherwise betrayed nothing. To name his half-sister like that... a half-sister that he didn’t make public knowledge... how could she...?

“Though, she’d probably change some facts, right?” remarked Syo thoughtfully, tapping herself on the chin. “It’s not beneath her. Whatever it takes to uphold the family name. Skip over all the killing, and maybe not mention you being Polaris. Some people would get real mad, trust me.”

Byakuya widened his eyes and let slip a small gasp.

“How do you know that?” he asked. He never told anyone about that. He never would. Especially not someone he had only read about, otherwise a near stranger. A serial killer.

She laughed.

“Tell me!” he demanded, louder.

Syo laughed more, shaking, then tipped her head forward with that same, same grin.

“You think I’m in a glass case on display,” she said. It could have been a question, but he doubted she meant it to be one. “Maybe I am. And you can see in, but I can see out, y’know?”

“What?” he said heatedly, raising his fists. “I don’t have time for your inane metaphors. How do you know this about me?”

“You don’t remember?” she asked, and he really did not. She resumed her laughter and realising he wouldn’t get anything more out of her, he left her room, feeling like he knew less than he did before.

***

How she knew about what she said to him became clear within the next few weeks. Painfully clear. The whole Togami Conglomerate... had been wiped out. Murdered. Byakuya didn’t feel emotional loss from that. Never had. For people with families, he supposed, they might feel saddened, and while the conglomerate had his surname and people he shared DNA with, like his father, he didn’t consider any of them family. Just business associates. People would call him heartless for only being concerned that a group he considered strong, the strongest, had been annihilated, and not because his father begged for his life on live television before being shot by an imposter dressed as his biological son.

Byakuya’s fiancée put it best when the conversation once came up during lunch and Aoi Asahina asked him about his lack of emotion. He wasn’t the one who was heartless - everyone around him while he grew up had been.

At that point, Byakuya and his now soon-to-be wife hadn’t been dating. Back then, Byakuya wouldn’t have believed that he would plan to marry someone not chosen for him by someone else, like his mother had been chosen to marry his father because of Byakuya’s accomplishments. Had someone told him years ago that he would have chosen his own wife because he cared for her in a way that he, at the time, mocked and scoffed and considered to be a weakness beneath him, he would have blanked out their existence for the rest of his life as they clearly had nothing of worth to say.

How things changed.

He adjusted his tie, staring at his full length mirror, and heard the door open.

“There you are! I knew if I followed the scent of sex, I’d find you!” came a voice behind him.

His reflection grimaced.

And how some things didn’t change. He held in a sigh and looked over his shoulder. Just as expected, there was Syo, dressed in a satin purple nightdress. She sat down heavily on their bed, one leg crossed over the other, vibrating with energy.

Byakuya regarded her coolly.

“Is the stove on?” he asked.

“Dunno!” she said with a shrug. “Didn’t check. I think Gloomy was adding pepper to breakfast and got a whiff of it, or something. So here I am! Da, da, da!”

She threw out her arms, beaming.

It had probably been switched off then. Syo focused on him.

“What’s with the suit? It’s even sexier than usual,” she said playfully as she stretched out her legs.

He frowned and turned around completely to face her.

“Did you think to check the calendar? It’s the day of the wedding,” he said.

The amused glow on Syo’s face dimmed. Surely, she must have known. In the past, Syo and Touko hadn’t shared memories, but with support and therapy, they had learned to do something called co-fronting, or they could be aware of what was going on while the other fronted at the least.

“That thing,” she stated in monotone, and Byakuya had a suspicion that she had known the whole time. She forced herself to perk up, but it was like she had two lights in her and only one was turned on. “Why don’t we bail on that stuffy show and have some fun? Just you and me... and maybe Hiro-kun. God, you need to get hotter friends.”

His expression didn’t soften.

“I’m not skipping the wedding,” said Byakuya. “You know that.”

Syo groaned and flung her head back.

“Bor-ring!” she said loudly. “Weddings are boring!”

“I’m aware of your feelings, but you’re not getting married,” he said. “I’m marrying Touko.”

She kept her head angled back and pouted.

“You’re going to want me to switch out, aren’t you?” she asked, and he didn’t answer. Her head snapped forward and she beckoned to him with her hand, her lips twisted tightly. It could have been a smile, but Byakuya doubted it. “Well, if you give me a good fuck, I might consider it!”

He narrowed his eyes. “Syo.”

Her face sobered. She clicked her tongue and hunched her shoulders, turning her head away.

“I can see you’re not gonna be swayed,” she grumbled, and she slouched even more. “Ugh, you’re lucky that Gloomy loves you so much, because I’d have killed you by now otherwise.”

Byakuya inclined his head to one side. Syo’s eyes were averted away from him.

“You have claimed that you and her share feelings,” he noted. “But... I wonder, if that’s really it?”

She tensed, still not looking. “Eh?”

He cupped his chin.

“I’m wondering if you have come to care about Touko,” he said. Syo twitched and shot him a cold look.

“Care? Listen, I’ve never hated Gloomy, even though she barely tolerates me. Most of the time, she hated my guts...” She slapped a hand against her cheek, pretending to swoon, but she spoke harshly. “Oh, Genocider has killed my crush, oh woe, woe... Can I really be blamed though? I’m a ruthless stone cold killer! It’s like telling a baby not to cry!”

“You’ll probably find that a lot of people blame you,” he deadpanned.

Her brow quirked.

“You’re arguing back?” she said. His face didn’t quiver.

“I’m just saying,” he told her, and she lowered her gaze.

The room fell silent. Syo twiddled her thumbs, kicking her legs gently over the side of the bed. Seeing her like this, contemplative and reserved, reminded him more of Touko than of Syo, though Touko’s confidence had improved a lot since they first met. She hadn’t styled her hair this morning and it was unruly around her, not yet tamed into one or two braids, but her signature glasses sat on her nose.

Usually, Syo wasn’t hard to read, blurting any and all thoughts as they entered her head, but right now, Byakuya could only guess what thoughts passed through her mind as she stared intently into space.

“Tell me,” said Byakuya, watching her closely, “did you hate yourself?”

Syo blinked. Wavered. Looked at him. “What?”

“If you share emotions, such as your love for me, then when she hated you, did that mean you hated yourself?” asked Byakuya.

She looked away again. “It doesn’t work like that.”

“Why not?”

“It just doesn’t!” Syo snarled, stomping a foot. Byakuya’s features gave a calm tremble like someone blew gently on his face. “I love being me! Why wouldn’t I?”

Her eyes blazed with an inner fire.

“Anyway, I thought I was the cute ditz!” Syo hissed, thrusting out her chin. “You’re getting sidetracked. I said I was going to let you get married. That’s what’s convenient, right? I’m sticking around for plot points, and then - ”

She trailed off. Some of her fervour ebbed away, and she balled her hands into fists.

Byakuya frowned.

“You know, you don’t have to be ashamed of caring for someone,” said Byakuya quietly.

Syo went slack, then cringed. Obviously, she heard what he said, but she abstained from answering him. That didn’t stop him from talking though.

“I was of a similar mind to you,” he told her. “I thought caring for someone was a weakness to be exploited...”

Byakuya walked over to her. He tucked his fingers under her chin and pushed up. Syo’s brow puckered as their eyes met.

“... but thanks to your alter, I know it doesn’t have to be that way,” he finished. “And I can’t say that you don’t get some strength from your feelings either. I heard that it gave you strength to back down from your chase of Monaka Towa, not just your love for me but your friendship with Naegi’s sister too.”

The tension in her face didn’t subside. Byakuya lowered his hand and stepped back. She touched her chin, feeling where he had held her. A faint blush dusted her cheeks.

“Tch,” clucked Syo, and she dropped her hand from her face. Very pointedly, she trained her eyes on her lap. “You’ve lost your edge, Darling.”

“Judging by your sudden meekness, I think I’ve still got it,” he said, feeling a smirk rise to his face.

“I should kill you,” she said in a light tone, still not making eye contact.

His eyes widened a bit.

“Do it,” he said, just as hushed.

With lightning reflexes, she whipped out a pair of scissors from the holster she still wore on her thigh. Before he could apprehend what was happening, she had him pinned to a wall and she held the blades of her scissors to his neck.

Byakuya breathed slowly, staring, and she stared back. With a tiny bit more pressure, she could nick him. Get him to bleed a little. Squirm.

Time crawled by. The scissors declined and eventually fell to her side without making a single mark on him. Syo aimed her gaze at his chest. Not at his eyes.

“Do you want to see the dress?” he asked casually, like she hadn’t tried to kill him. Because she hadn’t. They both knew that.

Syo gave a stiff nod and shrugged. He stepped past her and crossed over to the wardrobe, feeling her eyes burn into the back of his neck as opened it and revealed the dress. The white textured bodice had a sweetheart neckline with ruffled off-shoulder sleeves and a lace cape decorated with silhouettes of butterflies, and the same fabric as the cape was used for the outer layers of the skirts, reaching far enough to end at the feet.

“Western, eh...?” said Syo, craning her neck a little. “Just like in movies. I knew it. Gloomy’s so predictable.”

“Do you want to try it on?” he asked.

She recoiled. Hard. Jerked her head back.

“W-What?” she barked, and she couldn’t even pretend to laugh. Her shoulders shook like she was laughing though. “Aren’t you worried I’ll get blood on it? Though, it could do with a bit of colour, don’t you think?”

Syo ended her question with a grin. He didn’t reply, waiting for her to answer his offer properly, and she noticed. Her smile slid off.

“I told you, marriage ain’t my thing!” she huffed. “It’s Gloomy’s!”

Byakuya didn’t respond still. She rolled her eyes and exhaled loudly.

“Alright, I’ll humour you,” she groused. “Geez.”

Neither laughed though. He helped her into the dress and once it was on her, he stepped back and let her examine herself in the mirror. Syo didn’t speak, barely moving save for pushing back a bit of hair, adjusting her glasses, wringing her hands. Little restless fidgets like that. They shared the same body, but for the first time, Syo’s mannerisms were like that of Touko. For the first time, Syo looked like Touko.

“It’s girly...” Syo muttered.

“That’s your gender, isn’t it?” he said, unable to take his eyes off her.

“Hell if I know.”

Syo scrutinised her reflection for a while longer, strangely quiet, until finally she turned to Byakuya and hiked up her skirts. He knew what she was searching for, and indeed, she found the leather pouch of scissors like he expected, but then she fiddled and removed the pouch completely.

Then, stranger still, she held it out to him, as if she wanted him to -

“ - take them,” she said.

Byakuya peered at the pouch, at a loss for words.

“Listen,” said Syo, strengthening her grip. The pouch creaked in her hand. “A long time ago, I made a promise to Naegi. I said that I wouldn’t kill again if I could be with you. You’ve always been different, Darling. Gloomy has had her fair share of crushes on boys and girls, but you... her feelings go deep.”

Therefore, Syo’s ran deep.

“Like the chocolate coating at the bottom of a glass that held ice cream milkshake,” she added, whatever that meant, but Byakuya thought he understood.

She jiggled the pouch, as if reminding him to take them from her, but he didn’t budge.

“I mean, who can blame her?” said Syo, trying not to smile but failing. A thin one oozed out. “You’re fit. Hot. You’re really smart, but other times, you’re really dumb but it’s always in a cute way. You’re fun to tease, especially when you scowl, and...”

He grabbed her shoulder suddenly. Syo tensed, and before she had chance to process what was happening, he leaned in.

Her breathing suspended as he pecked her lips. Their glasses clacked together.

“If you just shared feelings with Touko, you wouldn’t have been able to say that,” he said as he straightened, feeling his face burn.

Unlike when she said lewd things, however, it wasn’t so bad this time. Syo had her own unique charm that excited him like no other, unpredictable and captivating even now. His heart skipped as he gazed at her.

“Also... thank you for taking care of Touko, all this time,” he said, hollowing his cheeks as he tried not to smile. He failed, much like she had.

She blinked, then laughed that grating laugh of hers and rubbed her knuckles against her eyes.

“Wow, you worried about stinking or something?” she said. “You’ve put on enough deodorant for both of us. It’s making my eyes sting.”

A snort escaped her.

“Yep, I definitely hate weddings. Too mushy. I think I’ll let Gloomy take over,” she said, almost babbling. “You shouldn’t see the bride in her dress before the wedding, you know. I better go take it off.”

Before he could reply, Syo hurried into the bathroom and shut the door behind herself. Byakuya stayed where he was.

There was a sneeze from inside.

“W-What’s going on?” asked Touko, rustling. “Why am I crying?”

Apparently, Syo had chosen to front by herself.

“You’re getting changed. Our friends should be here soon to do your makeup and hair,” he said calmly, used to having to fill in blanks for them.

“Oh, okay,” she said, faltering a bit, still confused. “Thank you, Darling.”

He smiled, adjusted his glasses and left the bedroom. Once through the door, he gave his eyes a quick wipe and headed for the stairs.

They had a wedding to prepare for, after all.

#syogami #togafuka #danganronpa #byakuya togami #genocider syo #syotogafuka #sfw #fanfiction #touko fukawa #aloysius pennyworth #one shot #i actually had most of this written some time ago #but i took a break to focus on tofu week

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pi-cat000 · 6 years

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MSA time travel idea (part 8)

Summary: Arthur falls off a cliff and lands in the past.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Vivi POV

Part 9: here

“Are you sure about this one. It says to keep out,” Arthur gestures at the several, poorly constructed, wooden signs hammered into the ground outside the gaping maw of the ridiculously creepy cave.

“So have half the other places we’ve visited,” Vivi points out from where she’s poking about in the equally spooky tree line which rims the cave’s entrance, “We’ve never let that stop us before.”

“Yeah, and I remember getting chased through a forest by a bunch of machete-wielding, red-cloaked wackos. Sometimes, there’s a good reason for the keep out signs,” he calls at her, watching her disappear momentarily behind a gnarly tree.

“I’m sure that was a one-off,” Lewis comments, walking up, putting him in line with Arthur. Mystery comes snuffling along in the grass at his feet, and he bends to give the dog a scratch behind the ears. The action calms his nerves.

“There are no rumours of a cult this time,” Vivi pops out of a nearby bush, causing Arthur to start nervously and pull away from Mystery. She shoots him an apologetic glance.

“Great,” Arthur mutters, rubbing his chest to calm his steadily increasing heart rate. Is it just him or is the inky back cave entrance emanating an increasingly ominous vibe? The hairs on his arm stick upright while a wave of unease sweeps up and down his limbs.

“We’ll be fine,” Vivi reassures, approaching so she is next to Lewis, “We’ve been through a ton of caves. The worst thing that could happen? We, maybe, get swarmed by some bats.”

“Ah, how about a cave in?”

“No seismic activity in the area, I checked,” Vivi declares as she marches forward a few steps, turning to call back, “You boys coming or what,”

Mystery bounds off to follow Vivi, leaving him and Lewis. Arthur watches them disappear, swallowed up by the dark, and shivers.

A comforting hand falls in his shoulder, “If this has you really worried we can always wait out here while Vivi takes her supernatural readings.”

Arthur sighs, very tempted to take up to the offer, “No. It’s fine. Probably best not to let Vivi go spelunking with only Mystery as back up,”

“Probably,” Lewis laughs, “Okay, then just sick behind me. I’m sure this will be just as boring as all the other caves we’ve walked through.”

Arthur cracks a smile, “Yeah. Boring…alright, lead on then,”

He waits for Lewis to step forward.

Lewis doesn’t move. Seconds tick slowly by.

“Lewis?”

No response. Fear craws its way down Arthur’s arm from the point of contract, freezing him in place. Lewis’s hand tightens.

“Lewis? What are you…” his sentence dies when he turns. Lewis’s hand is wreathed in bright purple flame.

“ARTHUR!”

Lewis snarls, spinning him around, grabbing the front of his shirt. Flames erupt around him. He’s burning now, suffocating in the intense heat. Lewis’s expression is full of furious hate, matching the raging fire around them. Everything is scorching hot, burning away the scenery till there is nothing but dancing shadows. The fire spreads down his arm, eating it apart and turning it to lose ash. Arthur watches in acute horror as the ash disperses, disintegrated and consumed by the raging inferno.

Lewis wrenches him into the air, roaring like the blaze overwhelming his form.

“THIS IS YOUR FAULT!”

Arthur lurches awake, fighting against the blankets and smothering heat pressing down around him. He’s burning! Half awake, he manages to fling the bedsheets off to the side, freeing his arms and legs. Where’s Lewis! His bedside lamp crashes to the floor, taking his full water glass with it. Suddenly, the air is rent by the sound of glass breaking and scattering across the floorboards. Water hits him in the face, and he flinches back almost toppling over and off the opposite side of his bed. He flings out a hand to grip the headboard, using the other to clench the loose shirt around his chest. A few seconds of breathless wheezing pass by without incident.

Quiet stillness is restored to the room. Arthur’s eyes dart around, scanning his desk and various bookshelves. Frantically, he clutches at his right shoulder, feeling for its organic warmth. He fumbles for his phone, the only object remaining on his bedside table, switching it on. Soft artificial light illuminates his darkened room. He exhales a long breath of relief. There’s nothing out of the ordinary. The date is still 2014. His arm is fleshy, unharmed and still attached to his body. Everything is fine.

Slowly, the adrenaline pumping through his limbs fades, leaving him physically exhausted. Arthur collapses back onto his pillow to stare at the dimly lit ceiling. He brings his phone up, squinting at its bight screen. It’s four in the morning. Arthur runs a hand down his face, rubbing his eyes and pinching the bridge of his nose. Now his heart isn’t trying to beat its way out of his chest he’s feeling oddly twitchy and jittery. What was that? Three hours sleep? Better than nothing, but not great.

He exhales again and turns his head to the side to peer at his window. The small piece of horizon visible through the frame is turning a faint pastel blue, silhouetting the desert, making it an inky blob against the sky. There’s no way he’s getting back to sleep now. Not after that. No matter what he anticipates, the nightmares catch him off guard every single time. His brain coming up with increasingly creative and shitty scenarios for him to live through.

With a long yawn, Arthur sits upright, glancing over the side of his bed at the floor covered in glass shards. The lamp appears to have survived its impact with the ground, and Arthur hoists it up, flicking it on so he can navigate without cutting himself. Sluggishly, he manages to collect all the shards together in a pile, ready to be swept into a dustpan. One of the only upsides to having a metal arm had been the ability to pick up dangerous stuff without worrying. Not much of an upside but it was- or had been- better than nothing

Another yawn. Arthur misses his old tools. It’s times like right now that he would be tinkering with his arm or some other device. Now he’s got several hours of waiting before he can go down to the workshop. With little to do, he sits at his desk, glaring blearily at his computer screen, idly scanning the web and re-familiarising himself with all the technical and limb-related scientific advances of his current time. It’s a relaxing habit.

An ache of general fatigue settles around his shoulders like an unwelcome houseguest. He's going to need to do something about this Lewis Situation. A few more nights like this and he’ll be well on his way to recapturing the magic of his older body. What he’s currently doing, which is nothing and hoping that it’ll miraculously get better by itself, isn’t working.

Arthur stands abruptly and sways over to his book shelve, pulling down an old box from the top and getting a mouthful of dust for his troubles. In it are his old anxiety meds which, at this point in time, he hadn’t used since high school. He shakes the bottle. It is either empty or the tablets have melted to the bottom, making them unusable. He sighs in disappointment. A new prescription is probably in his best interests, as much as he wishes it weren’t.

Moodily, he moves to stand in front of the window, careful to navigate the pile of glass and the corner of his desk. He can’t go to the local doctor. One, because there was a 50% chance that the doctor he’d be seeing would be Vivi’s dad, and two, he doesn’t want the whole town knowing he’s back on anxiety medication. Which means he needs to go to the slightly larger- but not that large-town an hour and a bit drive away. While he’s at it, he can pick up sleeping aids and some tinkering equipment.

Since waking up in this time, he’s been in the workshop pretty sporadically, playing up a spate of migraines and nausea to dodge his Uncle’s increasingly pointed comments. It’s been a balancing act of pretending to be sick and the needing something to do to keep himself distracted. If he stays cooped up in his room too long ‘resting’ his mind turns into a trap, dragging him from one pained experience to the next until he’s caught in a horrible loop. Equipment or a project to work on would help with that.

On the horizon, a lighter yellow peeks over the dry landscape.

It’s around five thirty heading to six. His Uncle usually awoke between six and seven. Lance would probably buy the excuse that he needed a day off though he might find it strange. Either way, he wasn’t going to ask permission, just leave a note on the kitchen counter. Far easier than trying to explain stuff. If he left now, he would arrive in the neighbouring town at six or seven give or take, meaning he would only have to wait about an hour for a majority of the shops to be open.

Decision made and with a new goal in place, Arthur quickly throws on some clothes, tiptoeing across the landing and down the stairs past Lance’s room. A few minutes later and he’s pulling onto the main road.

Arthur relaxes back, letting the engine’s vibrations travel through his limbs.

Note: No fanfic is complete without a mentally scaring nightmare sequence amiright. On a somewhat related note, Arthur heads off into town in search of the plot. No timeline for a part 9 at this point.

#fanfiction #fanfic #mystery skulls #msa #mystery skulls animated #arthur kingsmen #nightmare #time travel #hmm going to put a warning for possible disturbing imagery #burning alive

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pikapandie · 5 years

Video

youtube

Liked on YouTube: BUYING a mystery box off the DARK WEB !(WEIRD)! https://youtu.be/50z0ayT7c84

#YouTube

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blessuswithblogs · 5 years

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2018 Game of the Year Top Ten List I guess

2018 has been an interminable mire of exhausting miasma and quite frankly I feel like it has been longer than the entire stretch of 2010-2015 combined. I also didn't play many games released this year because, like last year, I'm still poor. I'll see what I can dig up.

10. Sunset Overdrive PC edition: It's a fun open world game by insomniac. The PC Port is actually balls but like. It's a good game with a unique emphasis on how you traverse the game world, where you can grind and bounce on just about anything and indeed to do so is the only way to not get totally chewed up by the hordes of mutants and scavengers and robots you have to fight. There's also some pretty fun and out there weapons to use, like a gun that shoots vinyl records or one that deploys little auto-turrets kept aloft with propellers or one that shoots out a bowling ball at terminal velocity. The base game didn't actually come out this year (I dont... think it did...?) but it was an XBone exclusive so I didn't play it then. It's got some weird problems with narrative tone and some kind of out of the blue racism but the M rated Nickolodeon toy commercial aesthetic is charming in a weird way. I guess.

9. The Forest: I think this got an official release this year? I don't know I can't fucking keep track. Speaking of a game with weird problems with racism, if you can look past the garbage "main quest" and really deeply uncomfortable racial politics where you murder and steal from cannibal mutants, The Forest is probably the best cool treefort building simulator I've ever played. This game has a love affair with lumber and I respect that. Shouldn't you be looking for Timmy, you ask me? Shouldn't you be shutting the fuck up before I put this airplane axe in your skullmeats? Gazebos are nice. I guess.

8. Spyro: reignited trilogy: haven't actually played this yet but let's be real the spyro games were fucking dope back in the day and giving them an HD coat of paint and packaging them all together is a real standup thing for insomniac to do in between slinging webs and making questionable pc ports. Also its like Dark Souls so it has to be good, right? Everything old is new again. I guess.

7. Super Smash Bros. Ultimate: haven't played this one either but like. I know that I am a smash-enjoyer. I even liked Brawl. This is the biggest, smashiest one yet and it's also on the switch which means it could also be portable if I decided I never wanted to leave my bed again. I'm probably going to find some money to get it soon. Should be fun. I guess.

6. The Quiet Man: look no game that is THIS hysterical can be all bad alright? Didn't play it. Won't play it. It's awful. But it's so fucking funny like oh my god. Still better than Fallout 76. I guess.

5. Dark Souls Remastered: was this even a good remaster? I don't fucking know. It's Dark Souls. It's better than 90% of released games by default. I miss Solaire of Astora. I guess there's Shadows Die Twice to look forward to. I guess.

4. Subnautica: I wrote a lot about this actually. Subnautica is great. Just fantastic. A wonderful, visually stunning (mostly) (when it works) journey under an alien ocean to unravel an ancient mystery behind a deadly plague. Building seabases is so much fun (when it doesn't hard crash your computer) and the peaceful playstyle you adopt where you really only kill things for food until you can grow your own, much more efficient produce is a welcome change of pace from everything else. Leviathans are scary, especially now that your cyclops is mortal and not indestructible. This game actually Came Out this year so it deserves to be on the spot. I guess.

3. Dragon Ball Fighterz: Honestly I'm hell trash garbage at fighting games that aren't smash but this was a very well put together, visually impressive as all hell fast paced tag fighter where you can have 3 gokus on the same team fight 3 other gokus on the same team. Goku density alone makes this game worth recommending. The eSports scene that has popped up around it is fun too. I guess.

2. Dead Cells: Another game that gets to be on the list by virtue of it actually coming out this year. Wait, was this on last year's list? Let me check. Ok good it wasn't. Early access is a fucking trip. It's fun, stylish, challenging, has a great deal of variety in ways to play, might have erased my entire save because it became obsolete and I'm definitely not bitter, and it has that classic rogue-lite replay value to give you some bang for your buck. There was that one review plagiarism scandal. I guess.

1. Monster Hunter World: If you really want to know what I think of this game my previous piece on it is a good place to start. In addition to everything said there, MHW is just a fun game. The loop is satisfying and, later on, quite challenging. The combat system takes some genuine getting used to and some monsters like Nergigante actually literally cheat but for the most part the game's unique fighting style, spread across several unique weapon types, is rewarding to learn because it demands some effort be put into it and the dividends of fighting well are very cool, like just knocking a flying monster on its ass with a single mighty swing of the hammer. When a game is hard in any capacity games journalists get dollar signs in their eyes and start drooling uncontrollably because they can immediately declare that Farm Sim 2020 is the next Bloodborne because they somehow managed to roll their tractor into a ditch, but MHW is actually quite similar in style and execution to deliberate Souls combat, but the comparison is made in reverse. Dark Souls is quite similar to Monster Hunter, the first game of which was popular and a couple of years old before Demon's Souls was even a twinkle in Miyazaki's eye. There's a lot of parallels between fighting a big ol' rathalos in monhun and going for the toes against a dragon in Dark Souls, but I think MHW actually does that kind of fight better. There are a lot of modern conveniences present in MHW that are a godsend to newer players, making the game pretty easy to get into if you're willing to try. It was my favorite game of the year that actually came out in 2018. I kind of wanted to put Warframe in this list but it's been out of early access for years now. I guess.

There were a lot of games this year that I wanted to play, but couldn't. I don't think 2018 was a weak year for video games. It wasn't as strong as 2017 but it had some hits, I just couldn't afford to play them all. Maybe next year I'll be able to give a better list. I think that the whole industry is in for some hard choices and major restructuring of how things get done and how they look at the end result. Stocks continue to trend downward - not just for Bethesda but for most mainstream, prominent AAA developers like EA and Take2. Given the well documented volatility of "The Shareholders", I imagine that they would be most displeased by downward trends even if they were still making a modest profit.

The situation has been likened to an economic bubble ripe for bursting. Games as a cultural institution have come a long way since the catastrophic days of Atari's warehouses of unsold copies of E.T., and I don't believe that we're in any danger of a complete collapse of the institution, but the fact absolutely remains That Something's Gotta Give. The increasingly predatory practices that game developers put in place as they pathologically attempt to Make Every Money Ever are intrinsically unsustainable. People are willing to forgive and overlook the now ubiquitous microtransaction if a game is good enough to overlook it, or if it's the game's only real way of actually making money. Warframe's microtransactions, for instance, are reasonably priced, platinum is often heavily discounted as a login bonus, and you can make large amounts of it without ever spending money thanks to the game's surprisingly robust trading economy. So. Yeah. They get a pass. Warframe is also good on its own merits, despite being free to play. They also listen to their community about pricing. Go check out Warframe. It's free. It's free!!! Warframe is my unofficial top spot.

Sorry I got a little bit distracted. So there's only really two instances where people will tolerate microtransactions and lootboxes in the contemporary sense: either a game is good enough and polished enough and the lootboxes are unobtrusive enough that you can just sort of shrug your shoulders and say "it sucks but what are you gonna do" or it genuinely relies on those microtransactions to support itself. When these tenets are violated, people WILL get mad. People raised absolute hell about Battlefront 2's scummy monetization schemes, enough to get EA to back off. Fallout 76 is getting lambasted in no small part due to its utterly overpriced "cosmetic" shop where you pay ten real dollars to get your power armor to look blue. You can buy fullfeatured, critically acclaimed games for half that price and you already dumped $60 on this lemon of a game. Destiny 2 got into hot water for being cagey about how its exp values were calculated and how the previously free and user-friendly shaders became one-time use items you could only get from rolling the dice. The public is getting positively irate about all of this nonsense, and if Fallout 76 (and evidently battlefield V?) is any indication, we are fast approaching a breaking point where shareholder demand for profit will outpace the consumer's ability to provide it and the developer's ability to skinner box it out of us.

Of course Nintendo continues to march on to the beat of its own drum seemingly unaffected by all of this garbage. Not out of any moral superiority, I imagine. More likely it's just a consequence of that company still being in the process of being dragged kicking and screaming into the 21st century. Maybe a few years down the line when everyboy else has abandoned microtransactions Nintendo will pick them up, put a cute Mario motif on it, and we'll be back to square one. Time will tell. We're in a volatile time for games and the timebomb keeps ticking. I just hope the explosion isn't too messy. I guess.

#goty #2018 #monster hunter world #subnautica #dead cells #gamedev

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pineapple-crow · 6 years

Text

OPENING BOXES FROM THE DARK WEB

YOU KNOW WHAT I HATE?

YOU KNOW WHAT I MOTHERFUCKIN HATE?

THOSE FUCKING DUMBASSES WHO BUY THOSE FUCKING MYSTERY BOXES AND THEN TAKE NO PRECAUTION BEYOND "OH HERP DERP LETS PUT ON SOME FUCKING GLOVES!! THAT WILL PROTECT ME FROM EVERYTHING!!"

Dear fucking God

First and foremost, The DEEP web and the DARK web are not the same! The Deep web is basically anything that can't be found by conventional search engines. Usually, super specific data that isn't necessarily illegal. The DARK web, however, requires specific software to gain access to, where everyone and everywhere is kept anonymous, and is usually where the illegal stuff happens. To remember easier, the Dark web is a tiny part of the Deep web; it's the house cat of the feline family, only much deadlier and highly illegal. Here's a more in-depth explanation.

Second.

IF YOURE GOING TO OPEN A STRANGE BOX, YOU NEED TO MAKE SURE YOU DONT FUCKING CONTAMINATE SHIT! Holy fucking hell. Wearing just latex gloves is a good precaution, like making sure your phone or wallet are on dry land before you go leaping over a cliff and plunging into the ocean with literally no other fucking protection.

First and foremost: those boxes and their contents could be rigged with ANYTHING. They could be COATED in ANYTHING. Not even focusing on all the fucking potential evidence you're mucking up, you're seriously, SERIOUSLY risking your well being by just going in with FUCKING LATEX GLOVES.

My recommendation, if you're fucking dumb enough to order AND THEN OPEN a fucking MYSTERY BOX FROM THE DARK WEB, is to ensure you have full body protection. Can't afford the snazzy full body suits that criminal investigators have? Have no fears, I'll help your fucking dumbass self out!

Face mask. Could be the dust filters for construction, or a surgical mask. Or alternatively, a bandana

Safety goggles. You can get these for cheap but, if you absolutely can't, then safety glasses work too

Closed toed shoes. CLOSED TOED SHOES! WITH SOMETHING COVERING THEM THAT YOU CAN EASILY TAKE OFF! Like plastic bags or smth

A bandana or scarf to protect your neck

A t shirt, and then a hoodie. A long sleeve hoodie. And make sure the hoodie zips up. This is for several reason. 1. You can put the hood over your head, making sure none of your hair gets mixed with the evidence, and also protects your head from anything that might go flying out and possibly kill you (in terms of pathogens and whatnot). 2. You have long sleeves that can protect your arms just in case, and 3. It's easy to remove in case you get something on the hoodie, and you don't have to run around with a bare-ass chest.

LONG PANTS! Preferably with long johns underneath! Same reason as the hoodie: it'll protect your legs, and if something gets on them then your dumb ass won't be flashing your fucking buttcheeks to the world.

DOUBLE UP THOSE MF GLOVES. You seriously don't know what could happen.

But you know what the ultimate protection is? DON'T OPEN THE FUCKING BOX TO BEGIN WITH!

Secondly, OPEN THE BOX IN A RELATIVELY STERILE ROOM! JFC If there's pathogens or shit in there then that's gonna get all over your room! And if it's in your fucking house, then it could spread! In fact I would recommend doing it in a closed environment that ISNT your residence, and use a disinfected table + a brand new table cloth. Why a new cloth? Well if any trace evidence falls out, the cloth will catch it and then you don't have to worry about handing Grandma's handed down table cloth to the police so they can rule out contamination BECAUSE YOU FINALLY CAME TO YOUR FUCJING SENSES AND REALISED THAT SHIT IS BETTER LEFT TO THE FUCKING AUTHORITIES!

Meanwhile, if you're handling the stuff in the box? DON'T BE TOSSING THAT SHIT ON THE FUCKING FLOOR GODDAMN! Do you know how much trace evidence a person leaves?? Spit, dead skin, hairs, sweat, fingerprints, oils, blood, etc?? And even if not from a person, regional things like dust, pollen, dirt, soil, maybe plastic particles that only come from a select few factories??? All sorts of shit! AMD YOU JUST TOSSING THAT SHIT AROUNF LIKE ITS A GODDAMN BEANIE BAG IS GONNA RUIN THAT FUCKING SHIT! Which means, when you finally come to your senses and TURN THAT SHIT IN INSTEAD OF PUTTING IT IN THE DUMPSTER, the police will hardly be able to do JACK SHIT because your dumb motherfucking ass has contaminated and destroyed everything!!! EVERYTHING!!!

AND DONT JUST BE REACHING IN ALL HERP DERP EITHER! Latex gloves don't protect against sharp objects I REPEAT: LATEX GLOVES DO NOT PROTECT AGAINST SHARP OBJECTS! Whoever thinks otherwise is a FUCKINHG idiot and nothing you say will change my mind on that. Seriously! If instead of handing the box OVER TO THE AUTHORITIES LIKE YOU SHOULD, you decide to open it like a fucking DUMBASS, don't just reach in!!

You could jab yourself on a hypodermic needle, or a knife, or literally anything else capable of piercing skin, and then ya know what's gonna fuckin happen? 1. You've now contaminated the fucking evidence 2. YOU'RE NOW AT RISK TO CONTRACT A BLOODBORNE PATHOGEN AND/OR FUCKING DIE! Holy fucking God, use a flashlight and a pair of tongs for God's sake. A STERILIZED pair of tongs because again: CONTAMINATION (and also you're probably gonna have to hand those tongs over too since they came into contact with everything, so might as well buy a brand new pair you're not sentimental over).

Also! Since this apparently needs to be said: DO NOT TURN ON ANY ELECTRICAL DEVICES YOU ARE SENT, AND DO NOT PLUG ANY ELECTRICAL OR TECHNOLOGICAL DEVICES OR ITEMS INTO YOUR COMPUTER! I'm looking at you, Fuckwits-who-see-a-thumb-drive-and-think-its-totally-save-to-just-plug-it-in. Seriously! First and foremost, the devices like phones could have tracking software, meaning they could be relaying your location to somewhere the moment they're powered on. Which btw I hope to GOD if you're dumb enough to order one of these, you at least have it sent to a PO box and NOT YOUR REAL FUCKING HOUSE! AND! Phones have cameras! They could be taking your photo and posting it all over the fucking web!! And thumb drives? You plugging that in could end up installing some sort of virus or malware that can seriously jeopardize your safety and/or ruin your life! The dark web isn't called the dark web because everyone who uses it is a philanthropic saint who throws fucking flowers everywhere!

Also! Fuckin evidence! Again! Both phones and thumb drives could have self-destruct programs that erase any sort of evidence if the proper steps are not taken, which means you fiddling around with this shit WILL ONCE AGAIN RUIN EVIDENCE AND HINDER THE POLICE IF A CRIME HAS INDEED OCCURRED! So just fucking turn it in once you get it!!

And for the love of God. If you're finally deciding to turn this shit in, buy brand new rolls of sheets (it is HIGHLY recommended that most if not all evidence is put into some sort of breathable material, preferably paper bags, NOT plastic, or fresh, unused metal paint cans for arson evidence), put everything (and I mean EVERYTHING) back into the box, then triple fuckin wrap that bullshit, then drive it to your police station and tell them EVERYTHING, every FUCKING step from the moment you decided to PURCHASE the box, and hope to God you didn't just help some perpetrator get away with his crime.

But the #1, 100% fail-safe and idiot-proof way to avoid getting hurt from anything inside a mystery box from the dark web is...

DON'T FUCKING ORDER A GODDAMN MYSTERY BOX OFF THE WEB IN THE FIRST PLACE!

#long post #tw cursing #lots of cursing #those stupid unboxxing videos piss me off #YALL ARE DUMB

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