Archive of Our Own

Cub-like whimpers flew frantically out of my mouth, tightly grasped by my slender, shaky fingers. My rosy pink cheeks shone against the perl-white dorm light, the glaze of tears and snot covering my face like itchy ink on a page. How could Horocoshi do this to me? How could I not even be SLIGHTLY involved in the main plot of an entire season? My now hard sepia bangs shook slightly as another burst of tears flew out of my vintage brown eyes, my back crashing into the creaky bed frame. It would have made so much symbolic sense for fucks sake! But no, I’m a woman right, all my character ark and personality for my one trait of crushing on Deku! My arrow eyebrows pointed sharply at the worn TV screen nestled on top of the jet-black TV stand, as the reflection of my beet-red face word and eroded with tears rose up, my arms clasping together as my elbows weakly split apart. My voice fell into a dry, hoarse plea as I desperately attempted to yell “Horikoshi please! Just please make me interested again, make me relevant, make me fight something! I don’t care how absurd it is, or what I have to do just please - make me fight!” My body crumpled onto the carpet, the dank scent of tears and sweat rising into my tired nostrils. I can’t take this anymore. My hand quickly scuttled towards the idle tissue box, slowly dragging it along the ground like a predator holding limp prey. My fingers gently glided the coarse paper towels along my face, the fuzzy outlines of the worn cardboard box becoming visible, the logo now replaced with bubble text, boldly reading ‘Bet’. I knew you were real. I knew my faith and all the bullying, all the abridged series, all the stereotypical teenage romantic interest behavior, was all for a reason! I KNEW IT I KNEW IT! GAME ON!

The sun crawled confidently through the metal borders of my window, streaks of orange and purple intricately painted across the morning sky. My blanket gently patted me as the itchy fleece rubbed me out of my bed, the flimsy wooden frame releasing a grouchy creak as I swiftly got up. You’ve heard my prayers Horokoshi. Now I just need to prove myself worthy! I propelled myself up against the mint-green wall as my My dusty grey eyebags twitched as I swiftly whipped a flurry of cold water against my face, the water crawling into my dry eyelids as I nimbly sprinted out of the room. I’M GONNA BE RELEVANT! I need to train those skills I’ve been developing the whole series so I can finally be USEFUL. I need to train before Deku wakes up, as I want at least a quick cameo, PLEASE!
My shoes pounded against the soft emerald tufts, their worn soles hitting the diamonds of dew like drumsticks as I flashed across the lawn, landing a flurry of kicks and punches at unsuspecting trees. I raced across the courtyard, like I’m starring in an episode of Haikyuu!, my legs flailing on the lime-green pathway as I raced the morning breeze that whistled in disappointment as rivers of sweat flew across my O2pods. I’m gonna be relevant, I’m gonna be powerful, I’m gonna be great. I’m gonna make you so proud of Horikoshi as your loyal child, and will be the badass female character you need for video essays for centuries to come. I will! I WILL! My legs extended in a desperate shove of my glutes as I tumbled across the ground as if i was playing broken bones 5. A dusty-yellow sausage stopped my tumbling figure, as he released a slow, mechanical growl. My teacher?!?! What the plot convenience fuck?
“Nerd” he quietly hissed “Why are you training at 6 am on a Saturday morning?”
Yknow what? I’m sick of this sheer disregard by the plot AND characters!
“Well what’s so bad about it huh” I yelled “It means I’ll be a better hero!”
His face turned, a derpy smile growing as a muffled laugh slowly grew louder until he was on the floor, arms reaching like a drowning child reaching for air.
“Y’know the cost of living isn’t that bad yet, and you’ll be able to afford a Hawaii trip as long as you graduate!” he chucked.
“SHUT UP WILL YOU JUST SHUT UP” I yelled “Like literally all you do is stand around to get stanned by the fandom”
Oh Horikoshi. I’m so so sorry. I stole his screen time. Forgive me.
“You must have had some of Shinso’s ‘Panadol’” Mr. Aizawa replied, his eyes narrowing like an elevator door.
“Let me take you to the staffroom and we’ll see what we can do”
How will you punish me, Horokoshi?

“Welcome to the staffroom” he stated, his raspy voice partly blocked by the blasting TV, a loud female voice screaming angrily in the new episode of keeping up with the Cardashians, as Mr. Aizawas eyes rolled towards the television.
“Sorry, I was watching that until I noticed you going through your winter arc” he cooly stated “So would you be interested in fighting a villain?”
Thank you Horikoshi. Thank you. Thank you.
“Now I know wha you’re asking” he slithered, followed by a long, quiet Kira laugh as he zestily waved his arms in the air like a hand model.
“Why well-”
“Why not Deku? Or Zuko? Or Bakugou?” he chided “Well because this villain well … does not fit their qualifications”
What does he mean… What is this villain? What are even my qualifications?

Mr.Aizawa slowly pressed the remote as a loud booming voice began to speak, the 10 news logo shining brightly behind the reporter as the voice slowly began to speak.
“Oh perfect, It’s just starting” the teacher grumbled.
“A new villain is on the rise, a man with a quirk that allows him to stretch his neck to extremely long lengths and change his size, but at the cost of his body being mutated into a toilet. This villain known as ‘Skibidi’ is currently classified as a high-level threat and should be avoided at all cost, with the cameramen hero agency currently working to stop them before they join a villain group where they can become even more dangerous.”
Hookoshi, what? WHAT?
The TV screen clicked into a smooth jet black surface as my mind spun with shock, my fingers trembling as my brain scrambled to find the right reaction. What do I do? Is this my destiny, or does Horokoshi have something better planned for me? Oh my.

My eyes spun around the room in shock, until my blurry eyesight landed on a newspaper, idly basking in the patches of sunlight shining through the window. What do I do Horikoshi? Tell me. My eyes slowly scanned along the front page, as I skimmed across the obscure story about Stain’s death and the latest grammys until my eyes land on a sentence in crismon bold text
“It’s it’s this or talk to- to- Mineta” I whispered.
Oh please not that.
“So” the teacher tiredly asked “Are you in?”
Whatever I’m signing up for will change EVERYTHING.
“Yes” I cooly replied.

Today I began helping the cameramen and finally make my debut. Today’s the day I finally become more than just comic relief and FINALLY do something other than watch everyone else fight.

“Thank you Horikoshi , even If I’m fighting for the toilets, at least I’m doing something” I whispered.

The phone pinged as my hunched back slowly unravelled, my nervousness flowing across my shivering body like blood. The building towered over me, the sun lighting up it’s azure windows like a computer screen, as I stared at the entrance. The twin towers shakily holding my torso almost crumbled as I felt a hand grip my torso.

A mysterious figure approached me, their tall, skinny physique bending like a spring as their arm firmly gripped my shoulder. The character’s head turned towards me in a single mechanical movement, their blank faces replaced with a bulging camera, approximately the size of a microwave, bulging out of their short neck.
“So the Cameramen part of Cameramen agency is literal?” I asked.
The man stopped for a brief moment, nodded slightly, and dragged me into a wide pair of automatic glass doors. Physics is weird. Poor guy probably interrupted some kind of major character moment. Could that happen to me? Like literally how is his posture so good with that Chibli ahh anatomy?

The marble walls echo a cool breeze towards the centre jet-black table, surrounded by cameramen sitting around the edges of the long oval, their tensed backs standing almost like additional table legs. The navy television screen flash a bright white explosion for a brief second, fading to uncover the words ‘Temporary intern: Uuraka, introduce yourself’ written in bold arial along the screen, their tan leather chairs twist in a sharp mechanical movement, pouncing with their pixel face-eye holes like snakes towards their prey, their nonexistent facial expression being well - unreadable. Everyone’s watching. Everyone’s watching me. I can make or break this dialogue. My fingers began to jitter sending waves along my scrawny arms which gently shook along my rib cage. My lungs began to pulse along with my panicky veins, pumping the taste of blood along my nose whist my mouth twisted a cacophony of Denial is a river breathing exercise noises. Crap! I can’t tweak out right now. Horikoshi, please help me. I'LL DO ANYTHING EVEN GET WITHIN 50 METERS OF MINETA WILLINGLY! My shoulders began to melt confidently into place, as my lungs slowly filled up with air.

“Hi, Im Occaco, also known as Uuraka and I’m here as a temporary intern to fight the villain Skibidi Toilet. I typically work with Ry-”
“Villan-S”
“What do you mean -they only show - on the news?”
“Welcome, welcome, dear prey” announced a snobby voice as he entered through the door “So you’re the new meat?”
The boy sat next to me, his tall but skinny figure holding up a golden jukebox instead of a camera or head, about fourteen years old, dramatically fidgeting with his fingers as he placed his feet on the chair.
“ You don’t know? ” he asked, in a sarcastic tone “They’ve been terrorising us for ages, reducing our like-entire kind from thousands to like - 2 of these rooms.”
“ We don’t talk about - it Radio, your disrespect towards the intern and our-” one of the cameramen stated.
“BOO HOO” he whined “Well she’s going to fight them with us anyway. Hopefully you don’t kill us all AGAIN with that stupid plan you’ve been making” he stated his voice stone-cold.
“No, we’ll finally defeat those monsters. And you can go to your dorm whilst we discuss it” a robotic voice replied “And show our intern around the place so you can do something useful instead of whining.”

Radio gently shut the door, his posture slouching sadly as he heaved a shaky sigh. He gently grabbed my arm, as if I was some clearance sale item from shein and could break at any moment, as he gestured with his radio- head to follow him. Well, this is going to be a while. But It’ll actually be five minutes. We awkwardly paced around as he pointed to the tall, steel doors lining the almost-infinite labyrinth of rooms,as he concisely described what each room is used for.

“And lucky last, this is my room” he stated cooly.
He shuffled me inside as I bit my lip, as flashbacks of the boba-pearl hair abomination flashed in my head.
“Why do you look so scared, you’re just like everyone else, huh” he growled softly.
“No” I mumbled “I-i-i just”
“So It’s either me or the Skibidis right”
No It’s what Horikoshi might do to me. But the ‘Skibidis’ too, I guess.
“It’s the latter” I whispered.
“Well, when quirks were first born, one scientist made us. A whole new species of humanoids. We had families, neibourhoods, joy, yknow all that nice stuff. But we also had a mission to fight the Skibidi Toilet, but for hundreds of years, as we grew, the Titan Skibidi also grew his children”
What in the mpreg crackfin fuck Horokoshi. THis universe certainly belongs on archive of our own or something like that.
Radio paused, his catching the slight glint of emotion in his voice as he sighed.
“Then we fought. And we lost. And I was forced into this ugly ass hunger games looking building to call home”
“Ok thanks but-” I said
“Now It’s time to leave” he grumbled “Bye now”
“Thanks” I said as I closed the door and walked towards my room.
Woah. What a story.

You’d think we're in district 13 from how dystopian this ‘family dinner’ is. Really It’s more like more of a military base camp cafeteria.

I walked up to the winding line of stiffly standing cameramen holding large grey trays, their faces expressionless because well….. But their tensed mood was visible from the way their fingers dug into the tray holders, as their feet shuffled along the straight path. A cameraman sat at the end of the line, handing out identical servings of stale-looking quiche with stray bits of spinach and a side of water. Each domino out of the stack of hungry individuals gruffly collected their food and slid over to one of those metal picnic tables filled with other cameramen, who mostly ate in silence with the occasional tidbit of chatter.

Before I knew it, the lunch-cameraman silently slid me my dinner and gestured for me to go, as I mouthed a quick thanks, which left her face a contortion of confusion and gratitude. I blankly searched for a spot to sit, most tables being about ninety percent full, but Radio man gestured in a stoic wave for me to join him, at his lonely corner, avoided like Diddy at a prison. I slowly sat down across him, as I unwrapped my cutlery while he awkwardly smiled.
“So, I guess we’re best friends now” he grumbled in a deadpan voice “And you’re the only one to talk to, so tell me something I guess?”
Has he ever felt the warmth of sunlight? Felt the sensation of grass?
“Such as” I asked, somehow unsarcastically.
“What made you want to become a pro hero maybe?” he replied.
“Uhh I’m trying to become a pro hero, and I know this sounds selfish, but I want to help my parents get rich” I replied nervously “What do you want to do with your life?”
“I want to get out of here the moment I turn eighteen, then I’m becoming a musician” he chucked “Cuz like the head!”
Dang. So funny.
“And the moment I get rich, I want to get away even further and buy a property in Egypt.”
“Why Egypt?” I replied. Why Horikoshi? Why-Egypt ? That’s so specific.
“The dry climate will stop my radio from getting damaged” he paused “And It’s amazing what they do for you there” .

“Dinner over! Leave all non-personal belongings except I-pads at your tables and leave the room immediately!” a voice boomed. Everyone swiftly stood up as they walked towards the residence chambers, the crowd moving calmly and evenly as If they rehearsed it. They probably did. The deathly silence was swiftly broken by Radio who muttered something about everyone staring, as I replied with a swift nod. Horikoshi, this better not be a cringey romance where it’s like a Deku or this guy - ahh thing.

I was exhausted from the long day, first beginning with our typically emo teacher cheerfully wishing my luck before dropping me off at the military-base-like agency while listening to Melanie Martinez. Then she got to listen to her new unofficial buddy explain the reason we're fighting a horde of toilet supervillains followed by hours of battle training and dinner somehow more pathetic than my parent’s salaries. And now I need to check my new ipad for what to do tomorrow. The ipad is coiled in a plethora of wires winding around it’s silver exterior, barley held in by a black case-box thing with a grip below it, allowing me to hold the ipad whilst checking her duties and apparently summon a ton of explosives, which by the way like - what can I even use them for? Horikoshi, like - seriously? What is the plot even about at this point? Or are you doing pot? Although I should be grateful, at least I’m not a side character or some maid-outfit hero.

Anyways before this internal monologue I was like - about to check what I have to do tomorrow right? I slowly clicked the home button as I swerved from the walking horde of cameramen into my dorm, opening the cool silver handle as I stared at the screen while I waited for the probably unrealistically high amount of data loaded into the ipad. You know, so far this has been one of the most mentally disturbed comedic relief adventures, like I mean, I’m fighting a literal toilet army. So would it make sense to sacrifice some of the story’s believability, or how absorbed the fans are or something for comedic gags? Like would It even be surprising if the wallpaper was two toilets kissing or something? Or..

I paused for a moment, my eyes widening as her mouth quivered in a contortion of emotion.

What If Horocoshi enjoys doing this to me? What is this isn’t even Horocoshi, so here I am becoming a brain rot version of Saiki K instead of being sexualized? WH-H-AT?

The realization flew towards me like a massive plane, collapsing my pair of thin, tower-like legs as tears began to flow out of my not-blue orbs as my sticky skin began to shiver. Then I’ll stay strong. I’ll take this role with pride and dignity. I’ll do this for my happy ending. For my parents, for myself, for women in media to finally have hope of having a somewhat okay representation. Skibidi toilet, watch the fuck out!

I stood up in a flurry of adrenaline and shock as I took my ipad, resolve pumping through my veins as I opened tomorrow’s timetable, as this - this- I can finally .. matter? Make me - or my parents - or Horikoshi or whoever took me to the cameramen agency - Proud?

The ebony white screen showed a timetable, carefully articulated rows of schedule, as I swiped sideways until I reached tomorrow, zooming into the outline of the day, where in bold arial writing it wrote ‘ Train with Radio - Pick up from school at 1 pm, St. Alpha’s shinto college.’

‘They don’t care if I’m alive or dead they just wanna keep me busy’, was that emo ass motherfucker serious? Like I’m all ‘kindness matters’ but he’s gotta be tweaking to not be happy about this.

Like, I know this is a religious school and that It was going to be wayyy nicer than what my parents can afford but, like, woah. Why is there an archway with the school name and logo in boogey millennial cursive, with metal decorations AND a courtyard in front of stairs that are RIGHT NEXT TO AN ELEVATOR. I bet I can’t even describe the entrance in a single cohesive sentence.

I walked down the concrete stairs, where to the side sat a modern looking cafe, as I remembered the stern instructions to get ‘something to eat’ as he handed me a credit card whist he poured a cup of lithium batteries into the top of his head. I slowly approached the cafe, quickly swerving towards the tub-box filled with ice cream, fishing my cold hand into the freezing pool of popsicle packaging like a cartoon bear going ice fishing.

“Hi, can I please get this” I mumbled to the cashier, as I hand her a cookies-and-cream popsicle packet “And do you know where to find the secondary office?”
“That will be five dollars fifty and the secondary office is along that long pathway and to the left” the cashier mumbled “And why are you dressed like a drag queen anyways? The school’s pretty strict about uniform” she asked.
“Oh, I’m not a student here, I’m just a hero course student here to do some training with a peer, It’s ok I understand such a mistake” I rambled “But sadly I can’t pay that price for a single confectionary item, has there been a price increase or do you know any other place I can get cheaper ice cream? I don’t mean to be rude!” I nervously asked.
“Well that's because of a mid Labour government who cannot manage an economy” the lady replied “Still you better not vote for Dutton, because I still want to go to TAFE someday because eventually the cost of living crisis will force me into a third job.” she mumbled angrily.
“You’re right” I announced, my voice higher than usual “I think I’ll vote for Trumpet of patrio-”
”That's worse. You know the Greens are an option right?”
“I was being sarcastic” I said happily “Glad we still have hope, but I have to go” I sadly explained.
“Aww. Hope I see you soon!”
Maybe we’re not cooked.

I walked up to the previously-described secondary office, where Radio slouched against the pillar holding the roof of the entrance, his body in a pose that can only be described as if Bakugou and Aouyama somehow had an mpreg child, which also sums up his personality unsettlingly well.
“There you are” he exclaimed “I’m slightly elated to see you, but Ms. White didn’t let me play games while waiting”
The teacher cast me a glance, her fanfiction-blue orbs flashing me a cold and expressionless gaze.
“Well” I mumbled “We need to go train so do I check you out or do we just go?”
“That was already planned” Ms. White nonchalantly murmured “You both have the front oval to use, and I have been sent to make sure he and you conjoin in your training so now I should leave” she paused “And the camera guy also told us to pass the message ‘The final battle is tomorrow, no more time, will fight at Shibuya’”

The world froze as everything began spinning, the artificial turf blurring into a flat poorly-animated indie game denim texture, my arms trembling towards my neck as I gripped the silver cross wrapped around my neck, my mind filling with desperate pleas to Horikoshi -no, the author to help and to protect me.

Why am I worried? This is what I’ve been begging for. A chance to matter. Just one last training session with the kinda emo kid and one battle against a villain I already know about. I just need to imagine how proud they will be. How happy they will be. How they will finally see me. Truly see me.

I stiffened my body as I robotically turned towards Radio, his radio buttons slowly glazing like a glass filled with ice water, his breathing turning short and laboured like the pomeranian he is. His left hand slowly slid towards his right shoulder, as he pulled the short sleeve of his white t-shirt embedded with the school logo, relieving a large patch of scarred flesh, covered with small, symmetrical slits that looked less than a day old. Radio quickly flinched as If awaking from a nightmare, as he quicky gained composure and cleared his throat.

‘THis means we have enough training and personnel to finally fight” Radio mumbled loudly, then taking a long gulp and his eyes flashed a brief glance of fear “We’re gonna fight tomorrow, Uuravity.”
“May the creators be with you” Ms White joyfully exclaimed as she faded into the patches of garden and building.
May they, no matter who they are.

“Nice catch cheer” a wiry kid screeched, as he ran across the lime green patch of artificial turf.
“Not my name quarterback” a shorter but stockier kid replied “And the meme is dead you bloody youtube shorts watching nerd.”
Radio and I slowly approached the group as Radio began fidgeting with the side control settings of his head,his speakers releasing a sound so load It would make President Mic proud, assaulting my ears like a cringe Bakudeku audio.
“Can you get off the court, you’re not meant to ditch class anyway and we reserved it” the speakers screeched across the court.
“Erm-actually … ermm.. Shut up nerd! Be a good boy and fuck off, do your shit somewhere else” the taller boy yelled.
“At least we have parents, yours never seem to be around ” the shorter kid replied.
“Yknow what” Radio yelled “Usually I’d shut up or tell you that doesn't allign with our hashtag Lebron strong values or some shit. But I’m sick of it. Sick of either being a burden or weird if I take up space. Sick of listening to you scream snow globe and orphan like you’re tuff. So you know what? I will die tomorrow anyway so I’ll finally fight back!”
“You can’t fight us, my great uncle worked here as an english teacher once” the taller boy yelled.
“Well then” Radio mumbled “Can’t snitch considering you say ‘not lebron terminology’ on a regular basis. Ochakko, I don’t want to hurt you so cover your ears.”
It can’t be that bad.
“By the way” Radio said “This involves your friend with the anger issues”

I froze.

Oh no. Ever since we’ve become celebrities we’ve developed fans. And those fans .. they think of Deku as …
“Uhh let’s just run” the taller kid whimpered “It’s that whiny bitch from UA”
The boy took off running, his legs desperately flailing like Deku chasing a rare all might figure of a fishing line, the other one quickly followed suit as they both began to bland into the military green trees splattered along the school campus.

“Well now they’re gone” he exclaimed “Let’s train!.”
“All right. Do we practice agility to manoeuvre around the large necks of the villains? Anything else would be stupid, like what else Is there to do, they’re slow, bulky and kind of useless. I can’t imagine how an agile person could possible get injured-”
“Yes” he replied solemnly “But we also need to work on speed”
“Are you okay? You seem to have gotten like - really angry in the last couple of seconds. Like I was just stating the obvious”
“WELL THAT’S THE MISTAKE MY PARENTS MADE AND LOOK WHERE THEY ENDED UP-” he yelled, his face almost slamming into me.

NO. NOT AGAIN. NOT THE MOMO TREATMENT. NOT THE CHARACTER SEXUALIZATION. NOT THE PLOT IRRELEVANCE. THIS CHANCE IS MINE.

“GET AWAY FROM ME YOU POORLY DEVELOPED EXTRA! WHY DON'T YOU GO BACK TO YOUR ROOM AND NOT RUIN ANYTHING FOR A LITTLE WHILE WON’T YOU ”
Radio stumbled back, his radio buttons slowly leaking as his arms trembled, as his back slowly curled downwards, avoiding my gaze as he croaked.
“I want to matter too.” Radio gruffly stated, followed by a long and awkward pause.
“My mother was a cameraman,who never wanted to fight. But she had to, until she met my dad. She left her family and had a family instead with my dad and me. We were happy, like stereotypical suburban gated community baseball-on-the-driveway happy,, when there was someone to hug when I was sad. But the toilets didn’t care if she fought. They attacked us and the cameramen, who I never even met before but we were outnumbered. My parents fought, with my father manoeuvring towards the head to kill the thing and my mother protecting me but it was too fast. The last time I saw her is when she threw me away into a safe corner, as It caught up and snapped her like she was Eren Yeager’s mother or something, It even bit my shoulder so at least I still have a bit of her left and I ’ ShOuLdN’t Be sO dRaMaTic’. He mocked In a robotic voice.
“I’m so sorry” I murmured.
“And maybe one day If I get rid of those monsters I’ll get revenge and maybe someone to care about, someone to care about me too” he tearfully explained.
“I’m the one who’s sorry” I replied “I-I- thought..”
“Well we’re cool now” Radio forcefully smiled “Freinds then?”
“Freinds” I replied as I flashed a grin.
And I mean it. I didn’t realize his lore was that .. sad and he still keeps it together.
“So battle training and running?” Radio asked “And playing LeBron music is non-negotiable. “
“Why?”
“My king never makes a mistake, we need some of his greatness in our lives because otherwise, well, we’ll all be as emo as me”

After a long but surprisingly fun training session, me and Radio both sat on the bench beside the court, panting as we gazed upon the glittering white moon.
“Why didn’t you tell me all of this earlier? You’re actually pretty chill” I absentmindedly asked.
“Well because why would you care about me and my feelings?”
“I would have and I do”
“You’re a good person, Gravity Girl. I hope you get your relevance tomorrow”

He… He doesn’t think I’m crazy? Or greedy?

“What about you Radio, what happens to you after?”.
“I wanted to furfill my wish. For a friend. But I’ve found one.”
“Me too”
Please authour. Or Lebron. Or Horokoshi. Or whatever. Let tomorrow let us be happy.

Overstimulation clawed at my ears, the clanging of porcelain echoing loudly over the poor-quality blasting battle cry of the toilets, adrenaline alone numbing the mind-numbing bellow of ‘skibidi dob-dob-dob’ as I ran across the battlefield, trying to touch every toilet like a youtuber among a bunch of middle-school girls. My feet flew across the pitch-black gravel road, my costume getting drenched with blood as I ran towards the toilet bowls, whose necks were twisted in knots, worthy of and just as dreadfully scarring as the omegaverse. The necks thrusted uncanny faces that looked like they were a toy left with a five year old chased me, their eyelids pulled open as their ebony teeth clamped against their slobbery swinging tongues. My hand desperately reached towards the pearl-white glossy toilet base, gripping against it with my life as I slammed the now-weightless villain into the ground, crumbling the base just before it’s neck flew towards the ground like a whip, sending the monster’s skull cracking onto the infinite-void black domain of the battle, spewing out blood like a broken egg. Radio nimbly jumped off the neighbouring Toilet, a bomb flying from his arm after he threw the weapon into the limp Skibidi, his body almost reaching the ground before a worn grey rope caught him. Wait. It can’t be. Ceramic pelted my skin as I flew into the sky, the smell of public bathrooms drifting into the surrounding humid air, the explosion of blistering red and yellow attracting another gigantic horde towards us.
“C'mon Uuravity” Radio yelled “Touch us!”
A collection of dramatically diving silhouettes dives towards me, consisting of radio, two melancholy cameramen and my teacher, my hands desperately poking each person as we floated from the deep blue sky back onto the ground. One of the cameraman dramatically gestured for us to follow him, leading us across the usually crowded crossing, now deserted other than the battling horde of toilets, cameramen and heroes. We collectively sprinted down the winding mazes of underground stairs and tunnels until we ended up at the train platform, the train line hastily blocked by scrap metal and caution signs by the evacuation team a few hours earlier.

“Eraserhead, you go find the head of the cameramen and tell him the specific words ’job application’, and come straight back” the cameraman sternly ordered.
“From what I’ve seen we’re severely outnumbered with 1 toilet for 3 of us” he replied, while nodding and beginning to leave “So Is a job application meant to imply hopelessness?”
“Yea” Radio replied “But what do we do now CC?”
“But we planned this perfectly right?” I desperately pleaded.
“We didn’t expect the mother-toilet. Those creatures have the ability to spawn from her and she has the power to create more instantly as their leader.”

We’re gonna lose, aren't we author? Or is this the climax where a solution is magically created? Please be that. I don’t want anyone getting hurt.

“But that Isn't all bad. If we kill the mother-toilet all the other toilets will die. The only issue is she isn't easy to hurt, nevertheless lethal injury.”
“More like impossible’” Radio muttered.
“Correct” the other cameraman meekly muttered “This seems to be the end.”
“Goodbye guys” CC horsley mumbled ‘’Ï’m sorry we were always so mean to each other. We spent all our lives more concentrated on beating an army that’s about to kill us instead of each other.”
Ï’ve always wanted to hear that” Radio sniffled “But I’ve been taught the Alpha ways, and I know Lebron will same us when we need him most so I just can’t lose hope yet”
The entire group tearfully rolled their eyes white Radio walked away from the circular huddle.
“None of us ever knew why you or your father believed that crap” CC mumbled.

Radio sauntered approximately ten metres from the rest of the group as he took out a container labelled ‘Ín case of emergency’, opening it as delicately setting down a piece of stale fried chicken beside a chunk of watermelon that he kept inside the container, as he bowed down and began humming.

“Lebron, Lebron,
The Lakers you’re on,
Without you we’de be gone.
Please be summoned by this song.”

The whole subway glew an ethereal white for a split second, the light fading as an imposing figure appeared behind Radio. A square, slightly pudgy face smiled kindly at us, as the mahogany brown hand landed gently on Radio’s back, the golden speakers emitting whimpers of joy mumbling ‘Lebron’ like an mystical chant while he embraced Lebron, burying his head in Lebron’s daffodil-yellow shirt.
“Woah” CC exclaimed “This Lebron legend is real?’’
“Yea. I told you, I knew I was right..” Radio breathily exclaimed, with a hint of pleasure that would have seemed different If he was gay.
“But how is he gonna help us defeat the Mother-Toilet?’” CC asked.
Lebron slowly turned towards the curious cameraman, his expression turning sour as he began clearing his throat.
“Äctually I do. Back In the 20th century, I was created by this place known as Area 51 to be the embodiment of perfection itself, and hide my purpose through the likes of basketball. That same lab is also where the Skibidis and Cameramen were both created, because of a popular kid’s show at the time. But when the experiment went wrong and thay accidentally created quirks, they gave me the malware drive to permanently shut down the Skibidi kind as a whole, but we need to get it to the Motherskibidi herself.”
“Wasn’t the first quirk child born in China?” I asked.
“The country in possession of the facility was ruled by who is rumoured to have had the actual first quirk of unnatural orange skin, but that Is a lie as that mutation originated from him being half alien, and when quirks were created he sent the first genetic sample to China due to his prejudice”
“Why was he racist if he isn’t even human?” Radio inquired.
“Because he really liked money” Lebron replied, as he patted Radio’s back pridefully.
“We understand LeBron, and we are grateful for the inforation and help” CC replied “But what exactly could harm that basically immortal thing?”
“Intelligence” Lebron James emphasized “The sound of logic or employment alone feel like blistering flames to any Skibidi’’
“Then …” CC mumbled, whilst calculating potential ideas and counting with their fingers.
“But” Radio exclaimed “We’re of the same variety, and we’re allergic to those things too!”
“Actually no. Well, only me and TT should be affected, but I've always been more planning and less fighting.”
“Doesn’t mean I’m stupid” TT snarkily mumbled.
“But the emo rope guy and Uravity should be fine and Radio would be a gamble that we might have to take”
“For now, let’s wait for Eraserhead to get back and then we’ll follow you Mr. James” I suggested, followed by a prolonged awkward silence.

A figure ran into the room, sticky red blood seeping from the right half of his face, hardening on his jet black hair and dripping onto his costume, a set of black pants and a long-sleeved ebony tee. His arms flew into the air as his face contorted into a psychotic smile, lips almost reaching to the end of his skull as he took a deep breath and began to yell as his eyes glowed with almost every emotion.
“I JUST FELT LEBRON’S PRESENCE. WHAT THE HELL IS HAPPENING IN SHIBUYA!”
“Look, Lebron’s been summoned and he’s going to save us okay?” I announced “We just need to get inside a giant Toilet first”
“All of them are big” he replied.
“This one is like the leader-mothership one” Radio yelled “We’ll explain on the way, just follow me.

“Lebron, I trust you with all my heart, I’ve stayed with you no matter what but I’m still so confused” Radio faltered.
“That’s okay, young Radio. Jesus has sent me to help you, as the sin of unemployment has been forgiven, but greed and the poorly managed government had created a new mutation, a new kind, you, who will not save the world from your skibidi counterpart.”

What poorly done worldbuilding. So Lebron was sent by you, author to save us? And why so many prolonged backstory monologues? Are you unemployed yourself, writer? And what does that say about the audience?

“They are” Lebron replied, as he stared at me with an unreadable expression “But in the twenty-second century, when these creatures were created and the experiment reigned out of control, I was given the malware drive and where to put it. And an oath which required me to be ready to sacrifice myself by dunking the drive into the Toilet’s mouth”
“And we’re hidden right next to the base of the beast” Eraserhead mumbled “I can probably throw you up there.”
“I can’t let you die, Lebron. You're too important. All The times I cried myself to sleep next to my shrine of you, all the years I’ve spent praying and hoping and thanking for you. You were the only one there for me when my parents died, when I got bullied and neglected. “
“Not the time for origin stories lil bro” my teacher snarked “Quit that problem child angst”.
“The point is dunk me in instead. And spread greatness on behalf of me, Lebron. You continue doing great things.”
“I will. Now tell your parents I said hi, kid. They’ve been waiting.”

“Alright, launch in three- two - one” CC screamed.
Aizawa’s rope flew across the sky as Lebron powerfully jumped, his naturally perfect and oily muscles contracting, as if for the tiktok gooners, with Radio standing on his shoulders, the malware in one arm as he prepared to be dunked into the mother-skibidi mouth. I quickly poked myself as I jumped alongside them to join, all of us being carried by force and my anti-gravity quirk. Bittersweet claws grabbed at my heart as adrenaline sent me pouncing through the air, chasing the rope-like neck of the beast, sending it chasing against me like a cat chasing It’s prey.
This is the moment. We’ll all get our glory, all be heroes, all be true sigmas. But I don’t want to be a sigma without Radio. I already have a romantic interest, and the found-family dynamic of UA, but Radio was a choice. A choice at first I saw as an obstacle, but then realized that I care for. We both fill each other’s voids without being romantic. A void that fame or plot relevance can’t fill. A realization that to be honest, I made when Radio’s love for Lebron was destined to cost him his life. But now I dont want it… any of it… Authour, you are truly an asshole.

Lebron James’ thrusted Radio into the psychotic smile of the beast, a massive version of the Skibidi toilet head but with long, drag queen eyelashes, accidentally swallowing Radio whole as It attempted to swallow me.
It’s gaping mouth flew open as It began to choke and stutter, Lebron and I desperately gripping onto her Jennifer-Lawrence thick lips as Radio used the malware to climb up her throat, reaching the top of her mouth as he held it down, both of their mouths beginning to foam Crimson red.
“Goodbye guys” Radio stuttered “Thank you for making me happy when you could.”
“But what about your property in Egypt, your -” I cried, my voice being blacked by my throats useless attempts to suppress tears, “Your dreams-”
“You made my wish come true yesterday” Radio weakly mumbled “And Lebron gets to continue slaying because of me, and I’m even useful to the cameramen now. I’ve done everything I need, and the meme is dead anyway”
Radio’s speakers began glitching, a blood began seeping out of every crevice of his left body, just before It blew up completely, a cacophony of overheated metal and warm, slimy organs flying across the creature’s mouth like a poorly recreated Nanami death scene. My body froze in shock as intestines wrapped around my leg like a hungry and unusually wet leech, my skin scraping and burning with the sharp slices of Metal quickly coated with blood. My pulse grew stronger as cold blood ran through my veins, a strong grip pulling away my body as I lay in Lebron’s arm like a ragdoll while I watched the Mother-Skibidi explode, every last remnant of Radio gone, his legacy remembered by the chain of explosions and robotic cheers that followed. My face stayed still, every corner of my body frozen and rigid, my ears pulsing my eyes shut as a tear slid out of my unconscious body.

“You’re finally awake” Mr. Aizawa remarked “It’s been like two days and all the news outlets already want to interview you.”
“What about Radio” I asked, already knowing the answer as the scent of dread and serialisation wafted into my nostrils.
“I asked all the cameramen to give him five big booms” he replied “I figured you’d appreciate it as well as your newfound fame.”

Appreciate it. At first I thought I would appreciate having this over with, appreciate finally getting rid of the supposedly annoying kid, appreciate finally getting some attention. But I don’t appreciate watching everyone suffer.I don’t appreciate having to see such a nice person die. So author, from now on I want to stay a side character. And I want you to get a fucking job.