#(but he is very much open to shenanigans- if; for example; killer were to pull him in hehehehehe)

[mblue-art]

💅 for @3dogbones's art challenge ! here's what i think lust sans could wear to @xpau-official's xmas party ! 😊💜

#underlust!sans #lust!sans #lustxpaudesign #xpau #xmaspartyau #mblue art #he may not be as extra in this but dang he ended up looking handsome here<333 💘 💘 💘 #he just wants to have a fun chill time with the others #(but he is very much open to shenanigans- if; for example; killer were to pull him in hehehehehe) #(i subscribe to killer+lust getting along/being friends headcanon no this cannot be taken away from me)

[ushioink]

(Part 1 of Careful,)

The world’s a little quiet today, or maybe she thinks this way because the AC is on full mode. Her earphones are pressed on her ears, and her fingers are running over the laptop keyboard in light speed. Everything she’s doing is an example of tranquility. She’s trapped in this sphere of solitude, and she loves it. The library is entirely empty, too, considering it’s early in the morning for torture. But whatever, she likes when things are clear and monotonous.

Of course, every good thing is bound to the burden of decomposition, and so her quiet is disturbed. At first, it’s just a body that’s hovering over her table. A large body. Enough to darken her desk and wide enough to block the cool air of the AC gushing over her. She’s intending to ignore it, but she’s not exactly good at that. So she takes off her earphone and pauses her monstrous clicking. She looks up, glare taking place over the dead shapes of her bitch face, ready to confront the person stripping her of her cocoon. Only, she doesn’t see a stranger.

It’s a man, and she’s not familiar with men - usually she’s just a virgin in all aspects of the opposite sex - but he’s not a face well forgotten. He’s one of the dudes that people whispered about in the hallways, and even her, an antisocial not-give-a-shit girl has heard about him. She’s a bit mortified about his sudden station over her table, but she forgets about her curiosity to resume her glaring. He winces a little because of her harsh glaring, especially when she pulls her earphones so she can hear the sound of her eyes going absolutely still in the dangerous motion. Besides him stands another man, a taller one, and he, too, sparks recognition in her well-organized mind. But she doesn’t give this other man attention; she only looks at the shorter guy.

“I have a proposition.” He says, trying to keep his voice steady. She’s a little - a lot - annoyed about his demanding tone, as if he’s used to dropping requests that take no for an answer. So, she scoffs.

“No.”

His eyes, which were narrowed down in a way to intimidate her (as if) widen a little, and he splutter. “You didn’t even hear what I have to say!”

“Don’t care, still no.” She returns back to her speedy typing, just to have something to do and to irritate the guy. God knows how well-versed she is in the effects of ignorance. She hopes he too, is immensely annoyed by it.

His narrowed eyes go a little wide, before he narrows them again. He looks down at the unoccupied chair across her chair, then at her, who’s still pretending to be immersed in her ridiculous writing, before pulling the chair out from under the table and plopping his pretty little butt over it. She doesn’t give him the attention he desires, not even when he releases a big sigh of relief. She keeps on clicking on her keyboard, completely unbothered. This makes him annoyed for some reason. No other female has ignored him like that when he graced them with his pretty, dark presence, and no other person has taken it so far to pretend he doesn’t exist, either. He’s damn well-aware of what he does to people, both genders, whatnot with his beautiful kohl-ridden eyes, his thin, pink lips that perfectly curl into a pout that’s deadly, and his killer body. What’s wrong with this woman? He actually came here by the stupid, stupid convincing tactics of his friend to beg for help, and he’s being swiped off like dirt? Ridiculous!

He curls a fist over his mouth like a fake posh man and clears his throat, making her look at him with her deadly, iridescent eyes. “What if I offered you ten thousand dollars for catching a mice trap in the Dark Dungeons?”

The Dark Dungeons is a place in the university’s library where everyone just pretends doesn’t exist for some reason - probably because of all the boring past researchers of the graduated students stacked there - and ultimately ended up being deserted. A lot of students are scared to venter there alone, recapping fake tales about pale ghosts and demons that are there to hunt them. She’s not afraid of such stupidity.

“Okay,” she shrugs casually, pausing in her rapid typing and closing her laptop. The student blinks at the quick gesture. “Pay it in cash?”

He’s dumbfounded; of course he is. He hadn’t anticipated his dumb proposition (which isn’t even real) to be met with such ease. He continues to blink, “But you just said no.”

She shrugs again, crossing her fingers over her laptop like a CEO waiting for a colleague’s destruction. The fist he’s holding against his mouth is put down on the desk. He wipes his expression clear of his flabbergast. She doesn’t allow him to say anything, though. “It depends on the proposition, really, and my capabilities in doing it. I can catch a mice trap in the presumptuous Dark Dungeons, and I will agree on it for ten thousand dollars. This is, knowing you, the only good offer you’ll be willing to give. I don’t want to hear the rest, because I know the rest, and I refuse the rest beforehand.”

“So you know who I am?” He sounds delightfully surprised. It’s the only thing he caught from her monologue, the fact she knows who he is despite only discovering about her recently.

She gives him a look as if he’s an idiot. Then, she returns to her work and opens the laptop. His cheeks flush at that look, still surprised that she’s not even remotely affected by him. He finally gives his companion, a tall guy who casually slipped on the seat beside him and practically occupying the entire space with his large body, a helpless look; and his friend merely shrugs disinterestedly.

“Hey,” he changes tactics by knocking on her desk with his knuckles, his eyebrows slightly growing narrowed as he frowns.

The man’s a little bit upturned by the mischievous twinkle that goes on like a bell on her eyes as she ignores him, a spark that would have gone unnoticed if he hadn’t been sitting close to her. But it’s strange nevertheless to see her, a woman so poised, a woman full of confidence and empathy, show such molecular emotion. Mind blowing

“Look at me. Hey!”

She looks up at him, the twinkle shifting into deep, rooted annoyance. “Yes? Is there anything of significance that you want to tell aside offering a proposition to a complete stranger?”

He’s dumbfounded yet again. “Is that a way to talk to someone? What a potty mouth you have! Do you use it to kiss people?”

She’s the one dumbfounded now, fooled at her own game of ignorance. “Excu.. excuse me! Potty mouth! Me? I’m a polite person, thank you very much. I’m just in tune with reciprocation at the moment.”

He sounds extremely frustrated when he says, “What the fuck does that even mean?”

The companion of the rotten boy clears his throat before she can retaliate, and she gives him her attention for the first time since he sat himself next to his friend. His face is long and droopy, lazy, and his eyes are squinted as if he’s trying to make sense of her tiny figure sitting across. When he speaks, his voice is husky. “Yah, don’t yell. We’re in a library.”

They glare at him, their eyes holding icicles. He huffs. “The last time I’ve been here, the librarian kicked me out for knocking one of his shelves. If he knows that I’m here again, which he will by your loud voices, I’m going to be staked. I don’t know about you guys, but I’ve seen a lot of vampire movies. Staking seems really hurtful.”

They shoot him disbelieved eyes. He puts a hand over his chest. “I have a sensitive heart. A wooden stake will make my delicate organ scar. That’s not good on my resumé.”

The first guy gapes at his friend, whereas she shakes her head in disappointment of being a part of this conversation. She goes back to her work while poking her tongue on the insides of her cheek, trying to restrain her growing fury.

“What?” The tall companion looks at his friend weirdly, “You haven’t seen the resumés I’ve seen online. They have applications out of this world. What if my beautifully intricate heart is required? Don’t want it marred!”

“Why the fuck would anyone ask for an image of your heart, Yeol? What job even requires the internal lookout of your organs?” His friend rebuts.

“How’d I know? I’m not logged in to alljobs.com!”

“Maybe you should, so you’ll be prepared to have a reasonable answer to your dumb shenanigans!”

“Will you both just shut up!” She snaps, smashing her laptop closed (again). They turn to her, blinking. “Why the fuck you’d even sit in front of a person you don’t know and have this conversation while they’re listening?”

They look scorned, cheeks going red. They regretfully look down at their laps, fiddling with their fingers.

“Now,” she exhales from her nose angrily, resembling a red-faced dragon (she doesn’t actually blush, but the running fury that’s gobbling her up leaves her face looking like a swollen tomato). “What the fuck do you want?”

The smaller man opens his mouth to say his demands once again, but she rudely raises an open palm up, squinting. “Speak gently. And slowly. And politely.”

He glares but complies. “I have something to ask of you, a proposition. Actually, you’re not a stranger, at least not as if now. I know who you are.”

She quirks a sharp eyebrow up, unrelentingly and very judgmentally. She’s not the type of person to be swayed over anything, definitely not over this man, too.

He rolls his eyes. “You’re one of the smartest students in our batch, and I kinda have been going through a lot with one of my assignments, so this idiot here told me to ask you for help.” He points to his companion, who salutes mockingly using two of his fingers. “It’s about the aftermath of war, and the effects it leaves on the intermingled classes of eighteenth century China. I’m very bad at writing shit. I confuse my statements; I fail at rearranging my paragraphs; I suck at choosing intellectual perspectives; and I most definitely can’t be on the neutral side to the point of sounding extremely radical. Would you help me write my research? It’s worth a bit of my marks considering I didn’t take the midterm for, ahem, certain reasons,” there’s a soft hue of red that glows in his cheeks, and feeling his blush, he scratches them with his long nails awkwardly.

“No.” The cute color doesn’t deter her at all, and she begins to collect her laptop and books to leave. Or, pretending to. She does not have any thought about leaving, not even when there’s a handsome stranger trying to invade her tranquil space. But, regardless of her wants, such gesture made the man nervous. He snaps his head up, eyes wide, and pushes himself to his feet quickly to stop her from leaving.

“Why not?” He begins to be angry. “Is this because you know who I am? Does my... Does our reputation precedes us?”

She gives him a cooly leveled look. “I only give favors to friends. You’re not a friend. Very simply. I couldn’t care less about your reputation, which does in fact precedes you. People tend to talk about things they don’t understand. The juiciest the gossip, the more people want to talk about it.” She pauses a little, confusedly staring at them. “Don’t you guys know that? When you wear these clothes, pierce all parts of your body, flash all of your tattoos, and walk around intimidating people, they will talk badly about you. Huh, I thought you guys are smart enough to discover this much about the nature of people.”

Whereas he looks startled out of his way with the sincerity in her words, It’s the companion who takes the time to speak. He asks her, his eyebrow raised. “Why’d you think we’re smart?”

She smirks at him, and he’s surprised that it’s actually playful, not malicious. “It’s only those that rebel the constant demands of society that have their heads teetered towards either intelligence, or insanity.” She slings her bag on her shoulder, her face going back to its previous expressionless slate. “Bye now.”

She doesn’t leave. She merely just stands and watches them watching her. It takes the two university boys a second to understand the implications behind her words, and when they do, they groan. They stand up, albeit slowly, and the shorter one dares to shoot her a grumpy, malicious glare, before walking away. The taller one simply tilts his head downwards in a respectable nod before following his friend.

Once they leave, she smiles, and the curl of her lips makes her face radiant, a whole lot flowery than the actual blanket of monochromatic nothingness that usually sticks on her all the time. She sits back down on her seat, opens her laptop, and begins to type again.

-

Oh the long road. Oh the long road. She sighs in her head, her legs heavy and unbalanced, almost sending her to the ground with how weak they feel. After almost six hours in university, with three classes and breaks in between, she’s finally done with all the nonsense that she, daily, has to face. Actually, university hasn’t been on her mind before in high school when she was in her senior year for this exact reason. She is too lazy for something overloaded like university. But, if she is being honest with herself, she doesn’t see herself in any place besides university, especially if she wants to have a ‘decent’ job. So, she tries to succumb to the voice compelling her to move forward, and ignoring the one that tells her to fuck everything and flop on the ground, dead.

A sound calling her name stops her in her long, angry strides, and she turns to the back to see her friend, Sami, waving for her, smiling so preciously that actual stars appear on her eyes. She’s not oblivious to the crowd gathering behind Sami, all males (and some females) staring at her with eyes twinkling with hearts. She reluctantly wave back, and Sami comes running towards her, beaming once she’s standing in front of her.

“You’re heading home?” Her friend asks.

She hums without a verbal consent. Her friend beams again.

“Great!” Sami loops their arms together. “Lets go together, and while we’re on the way, buy me a cocktail.”

“Alcohol this early? And why should I buy you one?” She raises an eyebrow up in ridicule, even though she already knows the answer to her rather dumb question.

Sami rolls her eyes. “No, an actual cocktail, with fruits and all. And you should buy me one because I’m your humble friend who asks nothing of you at all.”

“You ask for things all the time,” she narrows her eyes, and points at Sami’s earrings. “I bought you those earrings,” she points at her bag. “And I bought you this bag. And those shoes. I might as well buy you a house to live in if I’m already this much husband material.”

Sami grins, beaming, and her grip over her arm tightens. “It’d be so great if my future husband actually pays for all of my things. I’ll be a pretty, studious, working housewife that do things for him and accommodate all of his precious needs. Aw, I miss him already.”

“You should be careful not to say this in front of another woman that isn’t me.”

Sami blinks cluelessly. “Why? I didn’t say anything infuriating, did I?”

She pats her head sympathetically, her hand calloused despite the gentle, sardonic gesture. “Not at all. Not at all.”

They walk out of the university’s large grounds with Sami the one doing most of the talking, the bouncing, and the gleeful intervals; her grip tight around her arm, and her soft laughter surrounding them whole. She wouldn’t say that she was entirely comfortable about the concept of having a friend, but it has been two years now since she knew Sami, and she began to understand that in order to enjoy something beautiful, you have to watch it burn first, which’s why she, despite not liking it, disposed herself of her antisocial behavior, and stuck around with Sami.

Upon the huge gates of the university, she catches sight of the two students who had interrupted her morning study with their obnoxious presence. They’re standing in front, one of them - the tall one - is leaning against the large beige wall beside the gates, and the nuisance - the one requesting - is crouching on the floor right beside him, a fake cigar made of paper in between his fingers. They’re already staring at her, anticipating her exit. When her eyes meet the dark ones of the crouching guy, he smirks, his pink lips thin and inviting. He puts the fake paper in his mouth, pretending to inhale, and then pulls it off to exhale loudly, his eyes suddenly half lidded. He’s staring at her. She stares back, then she narrows her eyes, ticking her chin to the side in a silent request for him to look away. His smirk widens, and he doesn’t look away; his eyes invading her soul to the point she feels something scratch at the surface of her skin, begging to be released.

She scoffs. And almost as if he’s hearing her, he waggles his eyebrows teasingly. She blanches, disgusted, and her facial expression catches Sami’s attention.

“Who’re you looking at?” Sami turns to follow her friend’s eyes before she can look away, furrowing her eyes upon seeing the two boys. She turns to her friend curiously; nervously. “Do you... do you know them?”

She’s quick to shake her head, “Nah, I don’t know them outside the rumors that I heard circulating about them. I think one of their names starts with a B? Or an H? Anyhow, I don’t know who they are.”

“Why are they looking at you?”

She shrugs. “Beats me. Probably think I’m a visible, touchable time loop or something. That’d be cool. Have you ever seen Doctor Strange?”

Sami stares at her as if she’s an alien. “What on earth are you talking about?”

She shakes her head. “Never mind. Let’s quicken our pace. Maybe we’ll lose them in the crowd.”

As if hearing their words, the two boys jump to their feet (the one standing merely bouncing around) and they follow after them like two little creeps. They don’t say anything for a while, like announce their already large presence, and she ticks her head backwards with raised eyebrows, meeting their amused - yet frustrated - faces. She tilts her head, silently asking them about what the fuck they’re doing, and the shorter one of the two shrugs, the taller one smirking a little, the cigarette roll that was wrapped around the other’s mouth now in his. She looks away.

Sami notices her friend’s head going forward and backward, and turn around to give them a funny look, a little nervous for some reason. She looks back at her friend and pulls at her sleeve, a frozen smile on her face. “They’re following us.”

“If there’s an ice cube, large enough to have legs and is following me, and the world is so flabbergasted by it’s appearance, but you’re only concerned about taking your way home without interruptions. Would something happen if I gave it attention? No, you know why?“ she leans closer to Sami and with her big, wide eyes, she whispers. “Because it’ll melt away.”

Sami shakes her head in exasperation. Even after two years of being friends with her; she’s never getting used to her random thought processes. Either-way, Sami doesn’t feel entitled enough to say anything against that, and although she releases a little grumble from her chest in irritation at the skin contact, she doesn’t remove her arm away. Smiling, she leans her head on her shoulder.

“Yah. You can’t just pretend we don’t exist.” The shorter one says, or yells really.

His friend scoffs, and it’s strangely shudder-inducing because of his low grating voice. “We’ll follow you home if destiny calls.”

Sami lifts her head to peek at them, then quickly looks at her calm, astute friend. “Are you not going to answer?”

“A bird could constantly peck on my window and I wouldn’t shoo it away. I���m too lazy.”

Sami’s eyes mellow down, and her lips smile. “But that’s exactly what you do, sweetie. You can’t handle disturbances, especially when it affects your general surroundings.”

“You’re right. I’m going to kick their ass.” She stops in her gait, turns around, and glares; Sami stopping next to her. The two university boys pause in their strides, blinking.

“Question, exactly why was I chosen among the high grades receiving bastards in our class?” She raises her eyebrows up. “Is it because you think I’m easy? Or I’m a woman? Is it because you think I’m nice?” She says nice as if it’s a heinous word created for her personal offense.

The boys share a confused look. Then, the tall one clears his throat, readying himself for the paragraph he’s about to spout. “I’ve never once thought you’re easy, and neither have Baekhyun. We’ve seen the way you talked back to the teachers, and man, do you have a temper. I’m actually a bit shaky right now because I’m asking this favor of you. I’m not a misogynist, man. Why’d you make me something I’m not. love women. I love all wonen. Perhaps a little too much,” Baekhyun, the short guy beside him, is nodding his head sadly, “I’d have told Baekhyun to choose Dahyeon if I thought she was as responsible as you are. But the girl’s a klutz. She ruined a paper of mine once. Won’t let her do it again,” he then tilts his head, his confused face getting graver. “I’m sure as fuck you’re not kind, or nice. I wouldn’t have already been going through emotional trauma just by the thought of approaching you, yet, here we are.”

“Here we are.” Baekhyun spreads his arm with a surrendering look flashing on his handsome face.

Sami turns to her friend and analyzes the stone cold expression on her face. She hesitates, for a second, before she says. “They do have a point. You’ve traumatized half of the population in this university.”

“We still have two more years for you to traumatize the rest.” Baekhyun comments cheekily. When she shoots him a glare, he winks. She’s a little surprised. She hadn’t met anyone who winked at her deadly stare-offs. People are terrified of her, not amused of her.

“How many pages do you want your assignment to be? Mine’s going to be a minimum of eight, considering it’s only a meager homework, so I’ll try to shove your own pages between my breaks to save time.”

Their eyes go wide. Baekhyun actually gulps, unprepared for the challenge. “You write eight pages for an assignment worth ten marks?”

She raises her eyebrows. “You’re here begging for help for this stupid assignment, so I guess we’re both pulling up our shits, right?”

He shuts up.

It’s the tall one that answers. “Any page number is fine. Take your pick.”

She nods, “You’ll have five pages, then. I take breaks in between my classes. I have two-to-three classes for five days aside Saturdays and Tuesdays, so we’ll write two pages every week until its due date in three weeks’ time,” she takes her phone and shoves it in the chest of the short guy. “Give me your number so I text you the hours I’m free on. I don’t give a shit if our schedules overlap. When I tell you to come, you come, with your laptop and all of your writing necessities with you. One mistake and you’re out, get it?”

Baekhyun sweats, especially since her expression is deadly serious and her hand, which is still clutching her phone on his chest is cold, deadly so. He gulps anyway and nods. “Thank you, really. Appreciate it. Is there anything I can do for you to repay the favor?”

She smirks, and pulls her hand off of his chest after he accepts the phone. “A bad boy who knows how to say thank you? That’s a new one. And keep the favor until after you deliver your assignment. I’m not sure you’ll wanna give me any favors after I’m done with you. Say, are you willing to pay money?”

He pales. “I’m poor as fuck, ma’am, expected of a university student, right? Please say yes.”

She smirks again, amused of the panic in his eyes. “Relax, idiot. Just wanna check something.” She turns to the tall one. He’s staring right back at her, eyes wide and brown hair fluffy. For a bit, she’s taken aback by the actual fact of how gorgeous he is. Wide, almond eyes, soft hair, tall girth like a skyscraper, and she fucking loves skyscrapers, the taller, the better. He’s wearing a weird mesh of jeans, a t-shirt, and a jacket, but he’s also wearing a sweater on top. He must be sweating in there. His wide eyes turn a little confused when she merely gapes at him, and she notices. She clears her throat, and rolls her eyes so the spectators don’t notice she’s a weird bitch.

“What’s your name?” She asks coldly. There’s a strange warmth circulating her body, but of course, she ignores that.

“Sorry?” He splutters.

She lifts a sleek eyebrow up, holding herself from smirking widely. “Your name,” she points at Baekhyun, who’s blinking down at her phone like it’s a foreign industrial scam. “This moron’s Baekhyun. Kinda noticed you mention his name. What’s your name? I’m a bit curious to know about the chaperone’s name, considering they’re always so ignored and unappreciated in movies.”

He looks a bit flustered, as if he hasn’t noticed he has been a chaperone all this time. He wipes the slight vulnerability that flashed earlier, twirls the paper stick in his mouth, and gives her a mock salute. “Chanyeol, ma’am, but don’t bother memorizing it. We wouldn’t be seeing each other enough for the need of that.”

She doesn’t comment on his words even though she’s curious. She merely tells herself he’s as weird as she is, probably a little arrogant, but of course not as her. No one’s as arrogant as her. She sits on the throne of arrogance. Her parents once thought she had narcissistic syndrome, those assholes, but dismissed it later on when she gave them enough evidence she wasn’t. She pays attention to Baekhyun, coughing to alert him of the actual fact he has been taking too much time typing gibberish on her phone, and not his phone number. She swears to God he probably failed to reach her contacts. He looked like a dumb loser up close like that, but she didn’t want to judge him so severely. A guy who winks at her instead of shit his pants must be a dumbass, but again, she doesn’t want to judge.

Baekhyun looks up from her phone upon her cough, smirks his annoyingly attractive smirk, and juggle the phone towards her (after locking it, for some reason) she tries catching her phone, and thankfully she succeeds. She glares, about to scold him about the degrading act of her precious gadget, when he all but announces.

“We’ll go see our own way now. Thank you for such precious moment. Perhaps we’ll be able to create more while avoiding chopped heads, from your part, of course. May the grounds open up to present you with a fortunate gift,” he does a whole theatrics of bowing, while simultaneously taking a step back, bumping into an unamused Chanyeol. “Adios, my lady.”

He turns around to Chanyeol, who whispers something to him. They begin to walk away, and Baekhyun says something to the taller guy, in retaliation, which earns him an eye roll. Not taking this lightly, Baekhyun jumps - to reach the tall giant - so he can wrap his arm around his neck, and pulls him into a headlock. Chanyeol doesn’t fight. He lets himself be dragged like a deadweight doll, like he’s used to such abuse, and she shakes her head. Chanyeol seemed cool with his indifference, but perhaps he isn’t the one in total control here.

Sami calls her softly, and forgetting her only friend for a bit - the two boys have extremely large presence - she turns to her. She offers a small smile, showing a dimple to her left side, and Sami beams.

“I’m not even going to ask what the heck just happened,” she offers her a hand, Sami; and she looks at it weirdly. “Ready to go home?”

Sighing, she accepts the hand, and agrees to be dragged home. Sami looks down at their hands; and thinks a little, her brows going all intersected. She shrugs, cooly intertwining their fingers together. She doesn’t even blink at the gesture, having been used to it. Out of character, the only thing on her mind at the moment is those two, strange university men.

-

Author Note:

So?

We haven’t got anything grounded yet. We still have a lot to cover! The personality of ChanBaek is beautiful, stick to see our dumb yet gorgeous boys.

Also, if you haven’t noticed already, our OC is freaking DANGEROUS! Chanbaek are in for a ride!

#chanyeolxreader #chanbaekxoc #chanyeolxoc #baekhyunxoc #baekhyunxreader #baekhyun #chanyeol #exo #fluff #comedy #romance #love #passion #poly #polyandry #reverseharem #fluuuuuufffff

[chemicalmagecraft]

The Gamer Hero, Deku Chapter 27

A/N: Completely totally random fun fact: Five-card Mao is a fun card game where you're not supposed to tell people the rules, except for, I believe, the fact that if you win a round of Five-card Mao you may create a new rule for the game.

xoxoxo

After getting back from Yuuei, the first thing I did was show my mom the paperwork Shuzenji-sensei gave me. We cried tears of joy together and hugged, then she signed it and I decided to go talk to Kacchan. I figured it'd be a good idea to fill him in on my new powers.

"You can what?" Kacchan asked.

"I can copy Quirks now," I answered. He stared at me for a while. "Are you okay?"

He sighed very loudly. "You know what, why not? You can copy Quirks now. Cool." He stuck out his hand. "How do you do it?"

I grinned and made sparks from my hand. "It's a little finicky, though a bit less thanks to an exploit I found out about, but if I fulfill the right conditions I get a copy of a person's Quirk that I can 'buy' from a new menu."

"And those are?"

"I think it's supposed to be just from either beating someone in a fight or potentially from quest rewards, but one of the rewards for the sports festival quest I got was a choice of two Quirks from a pool limited to people from Yuuei. One of the Quirks I picked was a copying Quirk, which thankfully gives me a copy too."

Kacchan nodded. "Yeah I remember that guy. Kind of an asshole. So what was the other one?"

I felt a sting in my eyes as I activated it. My hair felt weird, and while I couldn't see them I assumed my eyes were glowing red. "Try to use your Quirk."

He snorted. "I know what Aizawa-sensei's Quirk looks like, asshole." I laughed and turned it back off. "So you just... have a bunch of Quirks now?"

I shrugged. "There's a limitation. If I have too many Quirks out then it lowers their effectiveness. But yeah, I have a bunch of Quirks now. I got the Quirks of the past One For All users, there are the two I just said, Super Regeneration from that Nomu thing that I bought because it's a passive boost to healing, the Quirks of everyone I beat in the tournament as another quest reward, and my cat's Quirk, which I tested Copy on."

"Damn. And knowing you, you got some other stupid good thing during the sports festival."

I nodded and pulled out my phone, using Technomancy to turn it on and open my pictures without actually pressing any buttons.

"Showoff," Kacchan muttered, then looked at the picture I took earlier. "Is that a fucking tower?"

"Yup. I got a new spell called Imaginary Architect after that last attack in our fight."

"When you threw fucking swords at me?" Kacchan asked.

"Because I threw fucking swords at you. It's an improved version."

"How the fuck is an entire tower an improved version over being able to make some swords?"

"Now I can make anything out of magic, if I have enough power."

He thought for a moment. "Yeah I guess that makes sense."

I switched to the second photo where the tower was dissolving, the only indication that I was interacting with my phone the blue, circuit-like lines that glowed to life on it and my hand when I did. "And this is what happened when I stopped using Imaginary Architect. Pretty, right?"

Kacchan nodded. "Yeah, it kinda is. Don't suppose you've got enough of an understanding of it to teach it to me yet?"

I shrugged and made a small sphere. I tossed it into the air a bit, then dissolved it mid-throw and replaced it with a small cube. I tossed that cube around a bit, added spikes to it, then dissolved it. Next I made a lab coat with a lot more concentration due to how complicated it actually was, actually making it around my body. I managed to make it a lighter shade of blue than the other IA constructs, but in the end it was only almost white. It did, however, behave exactly like a lab coat made of cloth should, down to how it ripped when I pulled one of the sleeves off. Even breaking a part of the construct didn't destabilize it, which was a failing in most Quirks and spells that made temporary objects. Even my Skill Grimoir worked like that. It was that self-contained... "Yeah, I think I should have a good enough grasp on it now. It's a bit complicated, though."

"This isn't gonna be like Meditation where it just doesn't work, is it?"

I shook my head. "No, from what Todoroki told me Meditation has an aspect to it that my Quirk reproduces automatically."

"How the hell'd he know that?"

"Apparently he can sense magic."

Kacchan twitched. "How the shit does he do that?"

"Beats me. Still, the biggest hurdle to you learning Imaginary Architect should just be that it's really complex. You might want to start out with Bound Blade first."

He sighed. "Ugh, fine."

xoxoxo

I spent the rest of the day (and night) switching between grinding both Imaginary Architect and Item Enchantment and reading up on basic architecture. Around midnight, I decided to check out the hero news. I opened up the website I normally used for hero news (not even using my hands, Technomancy was fun) and scrolled through the articles. One caught my eye.

Pro Hero Ingenium Critically Injured by Hero Killer Stain

"That was what you overheard, wasn't it Sonia?" I asked. She nodded quietly. "Well, thanks for giving me a heads up. Come to think of it, I don't suppose you'd be willing to tell me anything you hear about that you think I might need to know? Nothing personal about other people, unless you think they're going to get hurt or something, but stuff like explosions or villainous plotting?"

She smiled. "Yeah, I'll do that!"

"Thanks." I clicked on the article. Yeah it did not look good. "I don't need to tell you to keep an eye on Iida, do I?"

"Nope."

"Thanks..."

I was glad that I was using Technomancy to use the computer, because that freed up both of my hands. My left hand started to glow green with Healing Hands and my right hand glowed purple with Draining Hands to give it something to heal. While I was at it I switched Super Regeneration off. I didn't know if I would be able to help with Iida's brother at all, but it was a reminder of why I got Healing Hands in the first place. I wanted to heal people, and Healing Hands still had its limits even in the nineties.

xoxoxo

I stopped practicing my new skills around noon of the next day to check out one final thing that I had gotten recently that I wanted to mess with. Enlightenment had recently leveled up enough to unlock its next ability:

Allows the user to access their own subconscious mindscape through Meditation.

It would probably be more obviously useful if not for the fact that The Gamer already prevented any form of tampering to my mind, but at the very least it changed Enlightenment from (Passive) to (Active and Passive), meaning that I could hopefully level Enlightenment up at least slightly easier by exploring my mindscape.

I created a perfectly generic object with Imaginary Architect, automatically enchanted with that one slowfall enchantment I'd stumbled upon earlier (though not the floating one), and used Singularity on it. I floated over the construct with my legs crossed in the stereotypical meditation pose and pulled it into the air, adjusting my pull on it when it was halfway between me and the ground so that it just hung there, my 'gravity' pulling on it as much as Earth's. I closed my eyes and let my skills guide me deeper within my own mind.

xoxoxo

I felt like I was falling backwards for what somehow felt like both an instant and an eternity at the same time, scenes from my life flickering in and out of my vision. After that interminable time, I found myself in the foyer of what looked like a hero museum. It felt familiar, and from the looks of it combined some elements from some of the hero museums I'd been in before, though maybe with some other aspects as well. I suppose that made sense, it was my mindscape after all...

The central figure of the foyer was a larger-than-life statue of All Might in a triumphant pose raised on a pedestal.

...

...

Fair enough...

The statue had a spiderweb of large cracks on it, exactly where the real All Might's wound was. "I know this is my mindscape, but is everything in here going to be so on the nose?" I muttered. I shrugged and picked one of the hallways leading out of the foyer at random, one labeled 'Magic,' and walked through it.

"Whoa," I said. The giant room on the other side looked something like the library of a medieval fantasy magic school, instead of the museum theme of the foyer. The walls were lined floor to ceiling with bookshelves packed with books, there were moving models of various moments scattered around the room, an ornate pedestal with a large book in the middle with a large spiral staircase around it, and balls of light floated around the ceiling to provide light. I walked over to the closest model. It was the tower that I'd made yesterday. As I watched it dissolved like it had when I stopped supplying it with energy, then reappeared after a few moments. I walked away as it looped itself and examined another one. This time it was the flurry of blades that I'd used to finish off Kacchan. Not all of the models were mine, though most of them were, but every example was an example of magic that I was impressed or amazed by. For example, Kacchan and Uraraka's fight, the time I destroyed Todoroki's iceberg, the cavalry battle, the first time I cast Halcyon Wing, those shenanigans with Yang, the Wild, Wild Pussycats' cat spells I'd seen on TV that one time, my fight with Nomu, that one time Kacchan pulled me out of Illusion Barrier to punch me in the face, my first time using the elements with Kacchan, and the first Mana Bolt that started it all were among them. It was nice to see them all memorialized like that, even if it was only in my own head.

After I was done looking at the pretty displays, I checked out a section of one of the bookshelves. It had a label on it, 'Lightning,' with little lightning bolts on it. I pulled a book out at random and opened it to a random page. Most of the text was garbled for some odd reason, but I could make out one passage.

Lightning Bolt

A simple lightning spell. The user gathers electrical energy with lightning mana and shoots it in a burst at the target.

It was almost exactly what my own skill entry for Lightning Bolt said, but without the cost and everything. I frowned and flipped through the pages. I couldn't make out any of the other entries, but to be fair I didn't know too many lightning spells. I really needed to fix that, and with the other elements too. I closed the book and it flew back into its spot with just my intention to return it. I thought about Lightning Aura and Lightning Embodiment, and a dash-like lightning spell I'd made with the hope of creating a flying lightning spell called Arc Step. Those were my other three major lightning spells, so they should probably be somewhere in the lightning bookshelf. Again, my thoughts caused the books to move on their own. Two books pulled themselves out of the bookshelf and floated in front of me.

I plucked one of them out of the air and opened it to a random page. It had Lightning Aura and Lightning Embodiment on it, with one spell in between them. I stared at the passage. It was almost like it was constantly shifting, like some sort of selective but cripplingly bad dyslexia, but I felt like I should know what it was. I almost caught a glimpse of it... I checked one of the other passages that I couldn't read. I didn't have that feeling of recognition, but I still caught a flash of what it might be. Filing that away for later, I turned my attention back to the familiar passage. What could it...

Maybe a lightning version of Kacchan's Fire Ignition? As I thought it, the shifting of the slowed to a stop. The description was still a blur, but I could at least read that I was right.

Lightning Ignition

Maybe it was because I knew what the spell was, but didn't know it? If that was the case... I put the lightning books back and summoned an air book. Yup, Air Aura and Air Embodiment were there with their descriptions, but with a passage for Air Ignition in the middle that I couldn't read the description of. I put them back and looked at some of the other sections of the bookshelves. Aside from the elements, there were several books on healing, enchantment (apparently Elemental Aura and Elemental Ignition, but not Elemental Embodiment, were enchantment-type, plus my buff spells), illusion, offensive, defensive, sensory, movement, mind, summoning, and even more books of magic. There were so many books, most of them almost completely indecipherable. I supposed it represented the sheer scale of what magic could do. Heck, there were even a few bookshelves that I couldn't read the titles of.

After looking through a few books, I decided to check out the book on the pedestal in the middle. For it to be in the middle of a library full of magic, it had to be something impressive, right? I approached the pedestal and... it was just an oversized version of the Skill Grimoir. The pedestal had a counter on it that looked like it was showing me how many Skill Fragments I had at the moment. "Status," I said to check.

The menu didn't open. I frowned. "Menu." Nothing. "Skills." Nothing. "Skill Grimoir?" The giant Skill Grimoir was summoned to my hands, not the one that I could make from my Quirk. I guess it made sense, Quirks being a part of the body, that even if part of my Quirk affected my mind I couldn't use some parts of my Quirk within my own mindscape. Heck, now that I thought about it the only part of my UI that was still was the minimap. "Does that mean my magic won't work?" I asked myself. I created a simple little Magelight and added it to the floating lights. I cast the spell, yes, but even though it felt almost exactly like it did when I did it in real life, it didn't feel like I used any energy in it. "Weird."

I shrugged and looked at my Skill Grimoir. I wondered what it would look like to use it in here. I clearly could, otherwise why would the pedestal have an SF count on it to make up for the fact that I couldn't check my status screen? I flipped through the book for a skill that I wouldn't mind using SF on. There was a decently cheap skill called Shock Sphere that I was fine with. I confirmed the purchase. The words peeled off the page as usual, but when they dissolved into light they didn't go directly to me. Instead, the light split and streaked over to books in the lightning and offensive bookshelves. There were no text boxes, but I knew how to use Shock Sphere when the last of the light entered the books. I summoned both books to see that yes, there was a completed passage for Shock Sphere in them.

"That's... something..." I muttered. I guess that the books were a representation of my skill list? I moved onto the last feature of the room, the staircase. It was made out of floating strips of the same stone-like material as the flooring, but with small bits of red carpet on them. I walked up the staircase to see what was up there. The staircase was long and the tower that it went up was hollow, meaning that I could fly around there with a lot of room if I felt like it. The room at the top of the staircase looked like... maybe it was supposed to be the top of a wizard tower? The large room was circular, with eight large windows that lined up with the cardinal and ordinal directions on my minimap. There was an empty bookshelf, some tables, and a few training dummies and targets by the walls in between the windows. Creepily enough, the space outside the windows was just a blank white void...

I jumped out the window to see what the outside looked like, but realized when I tried to use Float that my copied Quirks weren't working either. I fell for a few meters in surprise before casting Halcyon Wing. The base of the tower was just a part of the circular staircase, instead of the library at the bottom. I tried to fly under the tower to see what would happen, but bonked into a perfectly white floor. There weren't even any shadows, which made sense when you considered the fact that there was also no light. I looked around the white void.

"I wonder what this is supposed to be?" I muttered. "Maybe it's supposed to be something like visualization of magic? I can use my magic in here, plus there were those dummies, so maybe I can use this place like a training ground for my magic. It'd be a bit nicer if it wasn't just this blank white void..." I had an idea. "If this is all in my head..." I closed my eyes and imagined the forest I used to play in as a kid. Soon the image in my head felt almost real and I realized that my eyes had opened at some point. I flew back up and surveyed the new forest. It probably wasn't exactly accurate, even aside from the giant wizard tower that stayed in there when I replaced the void, but it was still a forest in my head.

I flew around the forest for a bit, seeing how it looked. It kind of looked like it was randomly generated with my memories of the forest, because it didn't look like it was exactly the same as the real thing. Certain areas seemed to repeat too. I also checked what would happen if I destroyed a tree or something. It just smashed like a normal tree. Not sure what I expected to happen there. After that, I wondered if I could create NPCs in there. I imagined a ring of bokoblins, like from Breath of the Wild, around me. Before they could attack me I tested out my new skill on them. Shock Sphere, fittingly enough, reminded me a bit of the electric lizalfos from Breath of the Wild. At least, that electrical explosion that they could do. A sphere of lighting magic centered on me enveloped the bokoblins, causing them to convulse. When I ended the spell (which seemed like I could continue it just by supplying more MP), they all fell down and faded out of existence. I hoped it wasn't that deadly in reality...

With the training grounds tested out, I flew back into the tower and jumped down the stairwell. I didn't even feel any impact when I fell on the floor, and the floor didn't look damaged either. I got up and finally walked through the exit hallway of the magic room. I suddenly found myself back at the foyer of the 'museum,' standing exactly where I had been when I first entered my mindscape like I'd teleported there.

"That was interesting. Let's see another room." I walked up to a hallway, which had a sign that said 'Memory Lane.' This time, the room was just a long hallway with paintings hung all along both sides. On the left side I saw memories that were, generally speaking, negative. Fear, anger, sadness, every picture evoked emotions like that in me. Meanwhile every memory on the right was positive. When I looked at the left side it felt like it was longer than the right side, but when I looked at the right side it felt like it was longer than the left. Only when I didn't focus on either side and just stared down the middle did I see that the two sides were equal.

Does that count as a metaphor? I feel like that's a metaphor.

I kept my hand on the wall of happy memories as I walked down the hallway. My hope was that it'd serve as a reminder not to linger on the bad memories. As I walked down the hallway reminiscing, I noticed that some of the memories on the happy side were also on the negative side, just in a different light. I got to the end of the hallway having only cried a few times. Like the last room, exiting it brought me back to the beginning.

I looked at the hallways around the foyer, wondering what else could be in them. "One more," I promised myself, and went through a hallway labeled 'Heroes.' The large room was filled with statues and pictures of various pro heroes. The ones I admired more had more prominent statues, with All Might's being the centerpiece of the room. I noticed with pride that while there was a statue for Endeavor, it was destroyed. Only the legs were intact, with the rest of him just being a pile of rubble with demeaning graffiti on it.

However, I quickly noticed that there was something completely out of place near the All Might statue. A party of seven, who by the way I had never seen any of before, sat at a cheap folding table in cheap folding chairs. And because this was in my mindscape I apparently couldn't see their titles. There was a man with long white hair, a woman with a short, spiky ponytail that kinda reminded me of a pineapple, a blonde man with red eyes, a white-haired man with a large scar over his left eye, a bald man wearing an opened leather jacket with no shirt under it and a pair of goggles on his forehead, a black-haired man in a coat with a collar so high it covered his mouth, and a motherly-looking woman with a beauty mark under her mouth. It looked like they were about to play some sort of card game.

The man with long white hair, who looked like he was the dealer, shouted "Five-card Mao is not in session!" and threw a card at the man in the coat, who was the only one holding his cards. The man picked the card up and added it to his hand, which was currently about twice the size of the others'. The long-haired man said "Five-card Mao is not in session!" again, and threw another card at the other man. They repeated this several more times, the white-haired man's shouting getting more exasperated each time. Soon the man in the coat was holding all the cards.

"I win," he said smugly.

"That's not how Five-card Mao works!" the white-haired man protested.

"How does it work, then?" The man looked through his numerous cards.

The white-haired man slammed his hands on the table, rattling his five cards. "I'M NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL YOU!"

"Then how are we to play the game?" the man asked smugly as he set most of the deck down.

The white-haired man sighed. "You figure it out. That's supposed to be part of the fun..."

"Um..." I said, and all seven of them turned to stare at me in unison. "What are you people doing in my head?" I asked.

"The kid's here," the bald man said. "How is the kid here?"

The motherly-looking woman got up. "I suppose some introductions are in order. Sorry for alarming you, Midoriya. We're... the past users of One For All, the Quirk you have now. My name is Shimura Nana."

"Oh," I said. "So I guess One For All takes some kind of copy of the user's mind?"

The bald man shrugged. "Probably something like that. Name's Daigoro Banjo. Sup."

The man in the jacket nodded. "Hikiishi Jiroku."

"Hello, Midoriya," the scarred man said. "My name is Honenuki Shikotsu."

The blonde man waved at me. "Hello," he said with a small Russian accent. "I am Sokolov Kyousan."

The woman with the ponytail smiled at me. "Hello, Midoriya. My name is Kaizen Futaba. It's nice to meet you."

Finally, the white-haired man got up and shook my hand with an apologetic grin. "And I'm the reason you're in this whole mess, sorry. Shigaraki Ichigo." I gasped. Come to think of it, he looked a bit like that hand guy, Shigaraki Tomura, if he wasn't so... crusty. He winced. "Yeah, like that hand kid you fought. I think he might be my nephew, but I kinda don't like the idea of my brother procreating. He wasn't a very good brother and I doubt he'd make a great father either. You can call me Ichigo, by the way. I understand if you wouldn't want to call me Shigaraki."

"Um... So if you're all here then where's All Might?" I asked.

"Oh, he's in the closet," Shimura said.

"I knew it!" I said.

"Oh no, I meant that closet," she said, pointing to a literal broom closet in one corner of the room. Why was that even there? "Toshinori's openly bi, or at least he was in school."

"Oh, so did you know him when he was in school?" I asked. "Or I guess you would know anyway if you were in his head too..."

She nodded. "I did end up in his head eventually, but I was his teacher at Yuuei."

"Wait, why is he in the broom closet? I asked.

"See, the thing about that is..." Daigoro said. "Maybe it's best if you see for yourself."

I shrugged and walked over to the closet door. I could see something under the crack, but it didn't look like a pair of human feet... I opened the door, revealing a hazy yellow silhouette that was roughly All Might-shaped, but didn't look like an actual person. He didn't react to me opening the door. "Oh," I said.

"Yeah, he kinda creeped us out after a while, so we just stuck him in the closet," Ichigo said.

I waved my hand in front of his face. He didn't react at all... "Is he... conscious?"

"We don't think so, or at least we hope not," Honenuki said.

"We don't remember our times as that strange half-shadow, but at the same time most of ours were short," Hikiishi informed me. "At the very least, he doesn't react to anything and won't until the real Toshinori dies."

"I see," I said. That was kind of disturbing... "So are your real souls in here? Is that how it works?"

Sokolov shrugged. "It's best if you don't think think about it, existentially."

"Okay," I said, closing the door. "Would it be possible to get another chair for me?" I asked. "Actually how did you get those chairs?" I turned around to see that there was an extra chair right next to Ichigo. "Right, mindscape." Ichigo patted the empty chair.

I sat down as Ichigo shuffled his cards really fancily. I didn't even know you could do some of those those things to shuffle a deck of cards.

Or it was just mindscape logic...

"So do you wanna play too, Midoriya?" Ichigo asked me.

I nodded. "Yeah, thanks." When he dealt my cards I almost picked them up, but remembered the whole thing with Hikiishi and stopped myself.

"Five-card Mao is now in session!" Ichigo said as he flipped the top card of the deck over, the two of hearts. "I figured we'd do this in the order of what bearer we were, and we could say a bit about ourselves to Midoriya. I'll start." He placed the eight of hearts down on top of the first card. "I was the first bearer. Our enemy, All For One, is.. was my brother. He kinda snapped when our father killed our mother, which to be fair was pretty dang traumatic, but that doesn't really make anything he did cool. We had a few arguments, he locked me in a room for months, then he tried to control me by giving me a powerful Quirk. Still don't get what his plan was there, even with the chance of brain damage. Plus I mean even then we already knew that Quirks could be genetic, so he should've figured I could've been even a little bit more compatible with his Quirk than some random schmuck, so-"

"You're rambling again, Ichigo," Kaizen interrupted him.

"Right. Thanks, Futaba-chan," he said. I guess they knew each other. "So yeah, I used the Quirk he gave me to escape him and join what may have been a precursor to those pro hero organization things, though obviously without the overt government support. Speaking of, I think that's when you come in, Futaba-chan."

Kaizen nodded. She put down the eight of diamonds before speaking. "I was Ichigo's sidekick. He took me under his wing after he couldn't dissuade me from being a hero and showed me ways to use my Quirk that I would have never thought of. When he was on his deathbed I promised to continue the fight against his brother and was the first to have One For All passed to me. If I may, Midoriya, I would like to advise you to not underestimate the power of my Quirk, Mending."

Sokolov nodded. "My turn." He put down the three of spades.

Ichigo picked up the card, took a card off the top of the deck, and tossed them both to Sokolov. "Bad move. Try again."

Sokolov grunted. "What about this, then?" He put down the seven of diamonds. "My mom lost her Quirk to that bastard Hisa-"

Hikiishi threw a card at him. "Watch your language, there's a kid present."

Before Sokolov could pick up the card Ichigo swiped it up and threw it and another card at Hikiishi. "That's not a rule," he said.

Hikiishi picked the cards up, took another one from the deck, and threw all three at Ichigo. "You said can make new rules if you win."

Ichigo glared at him. "I'll give you that one, but only because I agree with the rule." He turned to Sokolov. "Continue."

Sokolov nodded. "My mom lost her Quirk, so I decided to melt the brain of the person responsible. I suppose if we're saying what our Quirks are, I should say mine's Fear. Luckily Kaizen got to me before I could get to him, and she made me her successor."

Honenuki threw his card down next. Seven of spades. "Believe it or not, but I used to be one of All For One's allies. Was born into it, actually. In fact, the Quirk you got from me, Skeletal, was a combination of my birth Quirk, Spike Growth, and a Quirk called Bone Armor. One day, though, I made the... well, not mistake, but I questioned him." He tapped his scar. "How I got this. Kyousan saved my as- life and I didn't really have anywhere else to go, so he basically adopted me."

Banjo slammed down the jack of spades. He shrugged. "Honestly I became a hero because I was bored and liked using Blackwhip. Don't know what Honenuki saw in me, but to be fair he was dying and the other guy was an even bigger jerk. Not really much to say."

Hikiishi looked at his cards for a bit. "I was always good at using my Quirk, Magnetize. I was heavily encouraged to become a hero, so I went with it." He put down the jack of diamonds. "I suppose Banjo saw promise in me when we worked together, because he gave me One For All."

Shimura played the queen of diamonds. "I also became a pro hero because of my Quirk, Float. Well, I really did want to help people too, but having a Quirk that let me fly played a factor in my becoming a hero too. I only ever met Hikiishi a few times before I... well, when he gave me One For all he was about to die. I became a teacher after that, hoping that maybe my successor would be spared the traumatic circumstances of my getting One For All." She laughed wryly. "I'm honestly not too sure I was able to do that for Toshinori..."

"For what it's worth, I'm sorry," Hikiishi muttered.

"I don't blame you," Shimura assured him. "Now it's your turn Midoriya."

"Okay," I said. I looked at my cards. If I understood the rules right, the only card I had that would work was the queen of hearts, so I placed it on Shimura's card. "My name is Midoriya Izuku, as you know. I think the Quirk I was born with was actually Singularity, but it's really weird and didn't even show any sign of being there until a few months ago, when I got The Gamer. I know I'm not very experienced, but I hope to make you all proud."

Banjo grinned at me. "You're doin' great already, kid!" he shouted.

"Yes, I'm proud to call you my successor," Ichigo added with a grin.

The rest of the former bearers echoed the sentiment. I laughed and rubbed at my suddenly wet eyes. "Thank you."

xoxoxo

A/N: Sorry about dumping a bunch of names on you at once, bit that was kinda the only way I though of for how this could go down...

Also sorry for the kinda long wait. I had writers' block for a bit with the OFA scene and then had an awesome idea for the card game that unfortunately involved reading a lot about the minor tarot arcana (I know it was a minor detail, but I thought it was really cool and I just kinda go wild for tarot motifs okay). By the way if anyone's looking things up, remember that most playing cards are the same rightside-up as upside-down so it could be either upright or reversed ;3. Plus I had a lot more irons in the fire that I had to tend to.

Elemental list: Midoriya: Halitus, Dune, Rayne, Blaise, Juniper, Mifuyu, Raimon, Iggy, Sonia, and Claude Bakugou: Pyra and Leaf Tokoyami: Corvo Uraraka: Nebula and Ion Hagakure: Lucy Tsu: Bubbles Aizawa: Charlie and Cassiopeia All Might: Seth O'Scope

#fanfiction #bnha #bnha fanfiction #the gamer #The Gamer Hero Deku #Gamer Hero Deku #GHD CH27

[johnnymundano]

Paganini Horror (1989)

Directed by Luigi Cozzi

Screenplay by Luigi Cozzi and Daria Nicolodi

Music by Vince Tempera

Country: Italy

Running time: 82 minutes

CAST

Daria Nicolodi as Sylvia Hackett

Jasmine Maimone as Kate

Pascal Persiano as Daniel

Maria Cristina Mastrangeli as Lavinia

Michel Klippstein as Elena

Pietro Genuardi as Mark Singer

Luana Ravegnini as Rita

Giada Cozzi as Sylvia (child)

Elena Pompei as Sylvia's mother

Donald Pleasence as Mr. Pickett

Paganini Horror is a terrible 1989 Italian horror movie set in a decrepit Venetian villa where a terrible (mostly) girl pop group film a terrible video for a terrible song based on the terrible idea of using cursed music by Paganini. The aural nonsense these tinsel wits conjure summons the cranky spirit of the deceased composer to dispatch them one by one in imaginative, but seriously underfunded ways. And probably to stop them screaming, because, hoo boy, do these ladies scream. If you are a massive fan of women screaming Paganini Horror is the movie for you, my unusual friend. Much of the running time of Paganini Horror involves neither Paganini nor horror but rather women running around what seems like one corridor and three rooms screaming. Occasionally they all meet up and scream at each other in the same room, or that one bloody corridor. I swear at some points they bounce up and down and flap their hands while screaming like overwrought teenagers at a pop concert.

Which is ironic since they are a pop group themselves. They are the kind of fantastically talented (mostly) girl band who do the female cause no favours at all; the kind who play their guitars by keeping their fingers immobile and flat on the strings while provocatively moving their hips about while pulling faces which suggest they are experiencing a sexy form of menstrual cramp. The singer, Kate (Jasmine Maimone), doesn’t have an instrument because she is too busy prancing about, trying to see which she can open wider, her eyes or her mouth. The token bloke, Daniel (Pascal Persiano), is stuck behind the drums because no one wants to see his exposed belly button. I think they sing Bon Jovi’s terrible “You Give Love a Bad Name” but it’s kind of hard to tell. Anyway, they are so bad the movie doesn’t give the band a name (I think; I don’t really care), so we’ll call them The Chilblains. Whatever song The Chilblains are excreting, it isn’t good enough for their producer Lavinia (Maria Cristina Mastrangeli) whose ears apparently work,  so Kate and Lavinia shout at each other, and things get so heated that Kate almost pushes a stool over but Lavinia arrests its fall just in time. Rock and roll Babylon! The Chilblains need new material to get them another million seller, and fast!

Daniel, the male drummer, sources some groovy material which will get the band back on track by, apropos of nothing, meeting a twitchy Donald Pleasence in a disused warehouse and purchasing a lost Paganini composition. Apparently, actually writing some decent music fails to occur to Daniel. The girls go wild for the fab synthed up sounds of groovy Paganini, and Lavinia books them into a spooky old house Paganini once passed water in, now owned by Daria Nicolodi’s Sylvia Hackett. The idea is to get top horror director Mark Singer (Pietro Genuardi) to make a smashing pop vid and get The Chilblains back shifting millions again. Unfortunately the video is shit. Even more unfortunately the restless spirit of Paganini is so upset by his music being co-opted  by talentless chancers that it starts knocking them off in unintentionally amusing ways. You haven’t lived until you’ve seen a woman burned alive in a poorly constructed giant violin case, baby.

Niccolò Paganini (b.1782) was a real person who probably didn’t live to see a woman burned alive in a poorly constructed giant violin case, but he was a legendarily amazeballs Genoan violinist. While Paganini Horror is hardly a fit cinematic tribute, he is a good choice for a spooky killer. Much like Cher, he is purported to have consorted with the devil, selling his soul in return for prodigious talent. Back then, see, there were no video games or movies for unimaginative reactionaries to blame everything on, so in desperation bits of wood that could make sounds such as the violin were considered the “devil’s instrument”, indicative of poor moral character and likely to cause an excess of excitement. And so extravagant was Paganini’s talent that it was thought only a satanic source could explain it. Or, y’know, he was talented and practiced a lot. Your call. Paganini died in 1840, possibly from mercury poisoning from being treated for syphilis. Maybe from tuberculosis. I don’t know, what am I, a historian? Paganini’s spookiness survived after his death to the extent that he wasn’t laid to rest until 1876, when priests finished debating what they should do with him. Priests apparently had a lot of time on their hands back then. None of that matters since all Paganini Horror is bothered about is Paganini was very musical and a little bit eerie.

Unfortunately looking up Niccolò Paganini on The Internet turns out to be a lot more exciting than watching Paganini Horror. Particularly finding out that all his teeth fell out from his syphilis treatment. But if you are inclined towards terrible Italian horror movies Paganini Horror has the odd slender wisp of a delight. There’s the ever twinkly Donald Pleasence, being all sinister and stuff; and you get quite  a bit more of him than I was expecting, which is nice. Unsatisfactory Italian horror movies form a  magical late stage in Pleasence’s career, where he basically rocks up acting in a movie which exists only in his head, and ends up being the most interesting thing in the movie outside of his head. Although genre legend (and co-scripter) Daria Nicolodi is intermittently to be seen acting, mostly she just goes with the whole screaming thing. Michel Klippstein as Elena is the best thing in the movie, but not for her acting. Unfortunately it’s because for the bulk of the movie she wears a nasty green lycra jump suit studded with a nonsensical pattern of holes. It’s kind of fascinating in a wholly abysmal way. Paganini Horror isn’t always terribly interesting so you may often find your mind wandering, wondering just how sweaty Michel Klippstein’s get-up got. I bet they had to burn that outfit once the filming stopped. Ew! In the interests of decorum I shall draw a discreet veil of “mostly adequate” over the other performances.

About on a par with the less than impressive acting is Luigi Cozzi’s relentlessly apathetic direction which exacerbates rather than disguises the clearly near lethal budgetary constraints. But would any more money have helped a horror movie helmed by someone so determined to so cluelessley fart away every death scene? Probably not. Make no mistake, Paganini Horror is not only terrible but, worse, it is often quite boring. This is quite a feat since the killer wears a gold mask and looks like a low budget musketeer prancing about and, as comically awesome as it is regrettably underutilised, there is also a gold violin with a spring loaded blade in the base. It’s like Cozzi has accepted a bet to make everything as tedious as humanly possible. In theory Paganini Horror has some clever ideas and creative slaughter, in practice however it is a drearily slow crawl punctuated by tedious screaming and hilariously cheap-shit SFX shenanigans. The best (i.e. worst) example is “The Invisible Barrier” which elicits some fantastic (i.e. rubbish) mime action as our cast pretend to be pushing against something that isn’t there, it also has a car crash into it but…off-screen! and a character is crushed to death by it, which just means the crew press a sheet of glass onto her face to distort it. Eyerolling never had it so good.

Be warned, sensation seekers of all ages, sure, Paganini Horror all sounds very camp and cheesetastic, but it is neither campy nor cheesy enough. It takes some  weird anti-talent to render dull a movie which has a record producer who can identify a fungus by sight as being one used in the 18th century to give Stradivarius violins their unique sound. (I believe Kanye West has the same ability.) Don’t be fooled if any of that sounds fun; Paganini Horror is fun, but not fun enough by far. This Italian mis-fire is fit only for masochistic die-hards like myself rather than your average horror punter up for a good time. Ultimately then, not so much a case of Paganini Horror, but rather Paganini Torpor.

#Paganini Horror #Movies #Horror #Italy #The 1980s #1989 #Luigi Cozzi #Donald Pleasence #Daria Nicolodi

[ryouverua]

A Certain Lab, Reprised

lab get lab get lab get lab get LAB GET

Everything around us is either exploding or on fire so Sweetcheeks and I are going to retreat to our space safe, investigating

am I talking about the school exploding or tumblr

we just don’t know

Speak of the devil!

“I AM HERE!!!”

“K1-B0 THeRE WAS AN OPEN WINDOW OH MY GOD, THERE’S GLASS EVERYWHERE, OH NO -”

“OH YEAH!”

Didn’t really wait at all tbh 8′D

Actually all jokes aside Sweetcheeks is right, it was hella cool - and also thank god he was in the hallway and far away from the window! K1-b0 keeps asking if Shuichi is okay but is being incredibly reckless at the same time - what if Shuichi had been showered with that glass? He wouldn’t come out of that unscathed. Was that just K1-b0 taking more of his uncorked anger out on the school?

... Hm, though I guess calling it ‘anger’ isn’t quite right. Or, at least, K1-b0’s fluctuating between ‘anger’ and sort of... more... ‘grim determination’.

Yeah, he didn’t even flinch at being complimented. He’s got serious tunnel vision right now.

Damn.

LMAO SHUICHI’S SCREEN -

There’s only one other place I can think of that qualifies...

DON’T YOU DARE SHUICHI WE FINALLY GOT HERE AND I HAVE QUESTIONS

Oh thank god I want to satisfy my curiosity about the library as much as you do but RANTARO’S TALENT FIRST

Again - damn, K1-b0.

Whoa -

..... This has a very YGO Season 0 vibe. Sorry, that’s a weird comment. Maybe the better way to describe it is that the words ‘punishment game’ immediately come to mind? Some sorta wheel/puzzle thing in the back, cards hanging from the ceiling, some sort of... table...? Kinda reminds me of a poker table, though there’s no center to it... Maybe he... really did specialize in death games...?

Actually, if Celeste had an Ultimate Lab, I feel like it would have a similar aesthetic ~

IT’S HIS SOUL ROOM WE’RE IN RANTARO’S SOUL ROOM

“Yeah so I never shared with you all, but part of the Ultimate Detective status includes the ability to shoot spirit energy from your finger like a gun -”

I don’t think that’s completely wrong but I feel like the actual talent name is going to be x100 times more ominous. 8′D

MAN end-game Himiko is so different than early-game Himiko! Nice to have you onboard - wait, I just realized we’ve got a magician sidekick helping us in an investigation. Is this the right time to make an Ace Attorney reference, or -

Okay, huh. There’s actually way less to click on than I thought there would be. WHAT IS WITH THE MOST CRYPTIC PEOPLE HAVING THE LEAST INTERACTIVE ROOMS, COME ON DRV3 -

Okay, that laptop first:

Empty laptop.... okay, let’s set that aside for now.

Here’s the real question - what came first? The K1-b0 we knew for the first five chapters or this K1-b0? Which one should we consider to be the ‘true’ K1-b0? I think the game is implying that this is the real K1-b0, and the one who we knew up until now was a ‘controlled’ version of him - but at the same time, if the antenna was built in with him, could it be considered part of the original design and therefore part-and-parcel of K1-b0?

omfg I just realized the implications of a white-haired boy hearing a voice (that he literally calls ‘voice’) in his head who may or may not be controlling him behind the scenes be still my heart you’re getting distracted

WHELP THERE’S REALLY ONLY ONE OTHER THING TO CLICK HERE SO -

Like a safe?

......... Omfg it says ‘B’ and ‘A’ on them and it has pictograms on them. Is... this going where I think this is going...

Okay Himiko is being our in-game tutorial and noting that the zodiac is on one side and astrological signs are on the other but honestly I’m fine to skip all past it tbh because there it is, there’s our fucking ‘horse a’ and ‘twin b’ is gemini, Kokichi himself was a gemini, this was where we were going with those hints??? Rantaro’s lab?! idk I just don’t find puzzles like this hard I kinda thrive off of symbolism and mythology in general 8′D

Wait.... doesn’t that mean Kokichi couldn’t have been the one to leave those messages behind?!

Okay this was pretty cute so I left this in ~ but straight up two minutes later it was just a string of KACHUNK KACHUNK KACHUNK until I got it open immediately -

.... the symbols are weirdly cute though, hehe ~

Don’t worry Sweetcheeks, the only life-threatening time-waster we’ll spend all of our time on is fluff text!

Aaaaaaand done. Thanks Kokichi!

MAN I LOVE THESE TWO SPRITES TOGETHER FOR SOME REASON

Ah, so they’re talking about the stone with ‘horse a’ written on it - which... does make me curious, honestly. I think the existence of this safe pretty much confirms that he didn’t write the original message... right?

When did the letters start appearing aside from ‘horse a’? Chapter 3? Was that around the time he concocted that particular plan, then?

H-Hey now, he’s also the reason we found the second clue. 8′D I mean, it wouldn’t have been terrible to go through 12 different combinations with ‘horse a’ determined, but it wouldn’t have been ideal.

i bet you can buy that, that is literally perfect DR merch

IT’S

THE VIDEO

THE VIDEO!!!!

yeah I’m totally going to pull up my old post to see what matches and what doesn’t

“Oh god I forgot how absolutely stunning he was.”

OH I thought that was an abstract red background, silly me - 8′D well, that was probably the point. It might give away the game if we saw something more concrete behind him way back in... what, Chapter 4?

Anyway, more importantly, Rantaro shouldn’t have had access to this place... except he clearly did. So... he... must have been here before. And he knew more about the killing game, or seemed to intuitively know more, than anyone else. He... must have done this before. Except he had made it all the way here last time??? So there is a loop of some sort? Though it can’t be an outright time loop because otherwise there would be no need to record a video (unless like I considered it’s a ‘simulated’ time loop, aka VR-style like last game)...

This makes me wonder how we saw the video the first time. Was it just another flashback/tease like the meteorites were, before we saw the flashback lights?

I mean, I guess it’s kinda hard for recording!Rantaro to prove, but we’ll have to take him at his word here I suppose. 8′D

OH

OKAY

WE’RE JUST GOING STRAIGHT INTO IT THEN

are you telling me you were the protagonist in the last killing game

DIDN’T YOU HAVE LIKE, TWO AHOGES TOO

Man, what an asshole move??? Like, okay, Monokuma’s creating the puzzle of the safe which would unlock this video. Fine. But almost half of the class would have to be dead in order for him to get to it! There’s no way for him to even start the puzzle at this point, because he wouldn’t know it existed! What a huge handicap!

......... Something.... he had.... since the beginning............. Hm. I’m drawing a blank. I don’t remember anything in particular that stands out....

My dead boy, that is an understatement.

AHAHAHA ABOUT THAT....

Now this makes me wonder if he is the only one repeating it or if anyone else is? Well, maybe the mastermind - but like, maybe everyone is repeating it, but only those who ‘won’ were able to have better memories, or were just able to retain the memories of the last game better than the others?

Or, hell, if I want to go along with my previous theory about downloading the memories of students, maybe... Rantaro can remember more about his real self? Or something? But everyone else can’t?

And if he’s really someone who won the previous one (along with one other person, I suppose), then he knows that for a fact.

???!?! Aaaah this part got cut off last time too - so it was actually cut off in the video, and not just in our flashback?!

“You’re also dead, which may make things a little bit more difficult, but I still believe in you!”

That at least I expected -

WHAT

OH GOD THERE ARE SO MANY LAYERS TO THIS

like the dramatic irony I’m sure the fandom has done to death, for example

What about the second person??? Is there a second Ultimate Survivor???? I guess there can’t be since everyone else knows their talents but -

wait, if you’re the Ultimate Survivor because you won a killing game, who were you in the last game????

Does this really give him an advantage though??? I guess the information would have been nice but I mean, it obviously didn’t do him much good because he got taken out so quickly!

Man this makes me wonder if Kokichi had any inkling of this...

jsyk since I have the screenshots side to side, his expression is different in this video compared to the last one

~ fun facts ~

Yeah, see, the ‘he wanted’ part is throwing me off. He participated, sure, and he didn’t say he wanted the original one, but he came back for round two and said he wanted it.... but why???? That implies there’s a purpose to it, and he was okay to gamble his own life - but also, as a person without his memories of this, he wanted to stop the game. If the chip he bet is his own life, the reward must be huge, right? He won these supposed perks for this game, but what did he win for his life outside the game? .... Assuming there is anything outside the game? Is there anything for him outside the game?

HIMIKO DON’T BE RUDE

Yeah, she didn’t know the identity of her target. 8′\ Also I’d be sad if it was Kaede in the end. Second also! I know that she ended up being the first chapter killer and I’m one of the people got taken by surprise by that, but we were in her head for that whole chapter! Her motive made sense - but for her to end up being the mastermind now? That wouldn’t make sense, based on what we know of her, memory shenanigans aside!

That would require the mastermind to have knowledge of Shuichi and Kaede’s plan then, right? So they would have had to draw Rantaro to the library somehow, so he would get caught in Kaede’s trap...

It... should be one of a kind, considering the circumstances...

Yeah I’m still wracking my brain and not coming up with anything there. Could it have to do with his necklace? It did make me think of that ‘soldier tag’ present, about remembering someone who they lost. That would be an incredibly appropriate, if not cruel, ‘survivor’s perk’ present for someone who survived a killing game.

Man are we going to get a new flashback for every place we investigate???

OH SHIT IT’S BACK

FLASHBACK LIGHT!!!

you can pry the flashback light animation from my cold dead hands

?!?!?!

Immediate thoughts - generic students. But, are they? Is there any chance that they look generic on the face of it, but are actually representative of people in the class? I don’t see anything that could be an immediate match (Korekiyo = masked guy, Kokichi = small guy with similarly shaped hair/short stature/face, Kaito = tall guy, maybe), and they seem to have different VAs - hell, is that Jounouchi (or for the proper DR character, Munakata)’s seiyuu?

...... or the guy with the sick mask could just be sick lmao

Ah, so this is from when the virus began to ravage the population...

That seems like an understatement 8′D But at least we know for sure when in the timeline this takes place! Shuichi doesn’t seem to know they’re going to be the only survivors yet, but they’ve already been presumably screened for the Gopher Project which means it is well under way.

Calm down Sigma Klim -

Shuichi hasn’t told them he swings both ways, huh.

OH GOD RIGHT IN THE KAITO

DO YOU GET IT YET SHUICHI, YOU ARE THEIR HOPE

Don’t mind me, just wanted to make sure Shuichi didn’t miss the cryptic message left for him in these memories -

Not only that, but these aren’t memories meant to act as a reward for completing a stage like the other ones or even one they found - this was literally forced on them. It’s supposed to be Monokuma’s weapon against them. So... similar to the motive from the last trial, it’s trying to make them take action...?

And it’s clearly working!

... Maybe it isn’t the necklace then. I mean, he was wearing it when he died right??? And his body is gone...

Oh man unless just like everyone else there were copies of it along with the rest of it in his room - except there are 15, one for all the participants for the last game or something -

It might be 50/50 right now??? There’s something screwy going on, I just don’t know what.

#Shuichi Saihara #spoilers #drv3 spoilers #Himiko Yumeno #Rantaro Amami #K1-b0 #Kiibo #Keebo #Ryou plays drv3