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a-pretty-nerd · 4 years ago

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Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

Chapter 9

Premis:

When The League of Villains discovers that AllMight has a daughter, they are quick to snatch you up and hold you hostage. Shigaraki had a careful and thought out plan, but that was before you got there. Now you’re in the mood for some not-so-healthy rebellion.

Word count: 2,756

Warnings: Cursing

A/N:

Oh dear lord I'm slow at getting these out. Life's been kickin' my ass lately. But thank you to everyone who's been giving me feedback on my stuff, I really love to hear from you guys!

Taglist:

(So sorry, I forgot when I originally posted!)

@craftybean13 @babayaga67 @imjustverable

@bat-eclecticwolfbouquet-love

@kamenoyaki @hentaiqween101 @skzero-99 @justanotherlifeff

@witch-o-memes

Chapter 8 Chapter 10

Two months. You've been "missing" for two months now. The days flew by, your time occupied by quirk training Shigaraki insisted on but never told you why. The times you tried to ask he'd brush it off, or say something like:

"So you don’t throw another fit." His words were harsh but he said them with a flat and bored tone. Like it was a poorly acted line.

So now you had better control. You could move things on command, you knew basic combat, you certainly knew how to kick Dabi's ass by now, that didn't take too long. You were being allowed more and more freedom. Even allowed to leave for a convenience store runs with Toga once or twice. No one policed you, told you what you could and could not do anymore. You could have easily ran away by now. You supposed they really didn't need you either. For their plan to work all they would need was some blood and Toga could easily pass as you.

That idea sent a shiver down your spine. You're sure Shigaraki has thought of that already, so why hadn't he? Why was he training you? Would he use your quirk against the heroes in some way? Was he grooming you to turn and fight your father? You wouldn't. No matter what you wouldn't fight your father. Would you? You shook yourself of this thought as you walked down the ally to the back door of the hide out.

Toga unlocked the door and you stepped in, greeted by a dark and dingy back room. You made your way through the dark halls, following closely behind her as she led you up the stairs that finally led to the parts of the building with power. Soon you found yourself walking to the familiar living space where a few people rested. Dabi laid himself out on one of the couches, Spinner sat fiddling with his burner phone, and Twice had started yelling at the TV before you arrived.

"Luuuunch!" Toga shouted. Toga was often used as the errand girl, she brought back necessary supplies, oftentimes food. Today Toga asked you to tag along and help out, and there wasn't a single objection to the hostage going out on the town. You sat the heavy bags down on the coffee table, taking out the contents as you spoke.

"Where are the others?" You asked.

"Mr. Compress was sent on an errand of his own. And Shigaraki's probably pouting in his room. He'll come out when he's hungry." Dabi groaned as he took his meal from your hand.

"Oh. I'll just bring it to him." You said, absent-minded. All eyes turned to you, looking confused and shocked. "What?" You asked.

"Nothing! It's just-"

"He doesn't like to be disturbed." Toga and Twice spoke. You paused and looked at the box in your hand. It would get cold if he didn't eat soon, and besides, none of you had had much to eat lately, you were sure he was hungry. You knew you were.

"I'll just leave it at the door and knock. It'll get cold and then he'll be in an even worse mood." You told them. They watched you turn and walk up the stairs to his "room". You stood in front of the door, with such thin walls you could hear furious typing on the other side. Loud clicking of a mouse, and the sound of a computer's fan. You took a deep breath and softly knocked on the door. Suddenly the sounds abruptly stopped, followed by a bark.

"What!?"

"Foods here." You called back. You heard footsteps on the other side growing louder and louder until the door flew open. You stared up at the tall man as he looked down on you. His hair hung over his face, his eyes hardly visible. Your heart rate quickened the longer you looked at him. What the hell is wrong with you?

"Give it to me." He held out his hand, his pinky holding out in preparation to receive the box.

"You said you liked spice stuff, right?" You asked as you placed it in his hand.

"Yeah."

"We got you their spicy special. I hope it's not too much. The sign said 'caution' on it." He scoffed at you, turning the box and looking at the writing on it. He fell very quiet. Inspecting the box, you suddenly worried that something was wrong with it. That maybe you'd messed up somehow. But before your anxiety could reach its peak-

"Thank you." His voice was low and soft. You could hardly hear him. Then before you could respond he closed the door and left you alone again. Did he really say that? You never heard him say that to anyone. Granted, you hardly knew him but still, the way he said it, it made you feel... special in some way. You shook yourself from your train of thought and shuffled down the hallway, pausing when you heard movement and the door to Shigaraki's room open. You froze.

"Wait a minute." He barked. You turned too look at him. He hung out of the doorway to stare at you.

"W-What?" You asked. Shigaraki had a way of making people feel like they were in trouble. His ability to easily become an authority figure was something you were beginning to understand now.

"You...went out?" You nodded. He paused and looked away, his eyes shifting as the gears spun in his head. He turned back into his room as he spoke, "come here for a second." He asked. You slowly made your way to his room, the door left wide for you to peak inside. A dark room lit by portable light fixtures and a laptop computer which sat on an old desk. A cot thrown to the corner covered by the same old and tattered blankets the rest of you had.

"Am I... in trouble?" You croaked.

"What? No. Close the door behind you, you'll let in a draft." He ordered, seeming genuinely confused by your question. You closed the door behind you, leaving you completely alone with him in his space. Your heart raced.

You watched him turn and look up at the wall which he had decorated with plans. Pictures of heroes and villains cut out and pinned. Newspaper clippings, printed out articles and research essays. He was planning something, but what it was was difficult to determine. You did notice however, a cut out of an empty figure with your name on it pinned to the center of it all. You stared at it for a second before he broke you from your train of thought.

"Well?"

"Huh!?"

"What do you think?" He asked. His attention turned to his meal, he picked at it, taking a few bites.

"Of what?"

"...the plan." You looked back at the wall, puzzled you tried your best to gain any sort of information from it. Only being able to find bits and pieces. You knew it involved you, your father, and the take down of hero society. A cut out piece of article said something about the rise of villains, that more and more people were turning to villain work. How those rates have a correlation with classes. You slowly turned back to look at him.

"I'm sorry you're gonna have to explain this to me." You told him. He rolled his eyes and stood, directing his attention to his work as he spoke.

"This is the second part of the plan."

"What was the first?"

"Taking you as a hostage."

"Right. But, didn't you say the plan was to expose the heroes after they weren't able to rescue me and not only expose the faulty heroes but also my father as a neglectful and flawed individual not worthy of the hero title?" He paused.

"Yes."

"But that didn't go as planned."

"....."

"Didn't you say something about making a video to broadcast outing myself as All Might's daughter and causing panic? What happened to that plan?"

"It became leverage. If they attempt to come for you, then we'll go with that. But if we do that now, they'll come for you now and we'll be forced to fight."

"Isn't a fight...a good thing? You'd get news coverage and You'd no doubt gain supporters."

"Normally it would. But a fight isn't what we need right now. The heroes have us surrounded. If we make any move at all, we're in their hands. We won't be able to win."

"Not even with your quirk? Couldn't you-"

"Not with everyone here. As strong as I've gotten, I'm not strong enough to keep them from getting swept up and dusted too."

"Right."

"We're in a tight spot. One wrong move and we'll be wiped out."

"What about your supporters? Couldn't you get help from the outside."

"I could, but the heroes would see it coming. They have our signal tapped. Any sort of communication has to be verbal or written."

"Homing pigeon?" You offered. It made him smirk.

"Right now we're like a fox trapped in its own hole by hunters."

"So... we dig?" That made him smile, wide.

"Dig. If we could smuggle ourselves out of the city, we could reach a clear spot where we can call for backup to get us."

"Why not send one person to smuggle themselves out? Toga could easily disguise herself and leave."

"They have a barrier."

"What?"

"Part of the city is closed off until further notice. They know exactly where we are. If one gets out, they won't hesitate to come for all of us. We all have to get out at once and they can't notice until it's too late."

"But how the hell are you gonna do that?" His smile widened. He looked truly excited and happy. For the first time you saw your capture seem truly excited about something.

"We have a few secret recruits in the city. Spies." He turned his attention back to his meal box, reaching in to pull out the inner box that held the food, to reveal a piece of paper sitting underneath in the flimsy take out box. "I didn't know they were letting you out of the base now." He spoke as he opened and read the note within the box.

"I thought, you knew. I thought you were the one that said I could. Dabi said it was fine." He read the note and stood to pin it up on the wall before speaking.

"I've been too busy with this to worry about you. You shouldn't believe everything that Dabi says. I told him to make sure you just don't have another episode and cause a scene before we leave. I thought assigning him babysitting duty would keep him busy." He chuckled. "There's just one thing I don't understand." He turned back to you. "Why didn't you leave?"

"I...I..."

"You had the opportunity, but you're still here. Why?" You froze. Why? Why didn't you run?

"I was scared I'd be killed." You lied. He laughed at you.

"Don't lie to me. You lost that fear a long time ago. You know that's not true. If I wanted you dead I would have killed you a long time ago."

"You've kept me alive to use me as bate. To, to expose the truth." You argued.

"With Toga, we wouldn't need to." You swallowed hard. You knew he had thought about this.

"I'll tell you why I stayed, if you tell me why you've been training me." He scoffed.

"To keep you busy, to keep you from having another episode."

"That doesn't make sense. You could have drugged me, killed me, you said it yourself. But you kept me alive, you kept me busy. You could have kept me on my meds, unable to use it at all but you insisted I learn my quirk. You trained me yourself. Why?" His smile faded and his expression became dark.

"I asked you first." He growled. You looked away from him and thought for a moment before gaining the strength to answer. You knew the truth for a while now. You never wanted to say it out loud. You refused to look at him as you spoke.

"I don't wanna go back. But you probably already knew that by now. You just wanted to hear me say it, huh?" His smirk returned.

"Had a hunch." He snickered.

"Now you answer me."

"Why don't you wanna go back?"

"We had a deal. Answer my question now." You barked at him. It took him a long pause. A full minute of waiting in silence felt like agony.

"I thought it would help you feel better." He muttered in a surprisingly husky tone. "Keep you from asking me to dust you again." That's right, during your episode...

"I'm sorry." You blurted.

"What?"

"I'm sorry I... I asked you to kill me." You hid your face from him. He shifted and crossed his arms across his chest.

"It's not a big deal, I dust people all the time."

"No, I know. But like, I can't imagine being asked to by someone having a fucking break down happens all the time too. I kinda...kinda put you in a shitty position." When you looked up, he looked confused. Comically so. "What?"

"I took you hostage." He reminded you. You couldn't help but chuckle, that made him more confused.

"Shit, yeah, you're right. Guess I shouldn't be so hard on myself huh?" He looked away. "Still. My intentions weren't to upset you."

"You didn't upset me."

"It seems like I upset you." You toyed. His guard was down, he was vulnerable, and allowing you to be there.

"Shut up. You didn't answer my other question!" He shouted in an almost playful tone. You couldn't help but smile, only to have it slowly fade as you thought about your second answer.

"I don't want to go back because..." you stopped, the words getting stuck in your throat. You were unable to speak. He looked down at you, waiting for an answer. He seemed almost relaxed. He seemed normal. Like a normal guy leaning against the wall of his bedroom with his arms folded across his chest. Your eyes wandered up to his scarred neck, bright red scabs forming. Inflamed and fresh. He had recently scratched at it again, clearly in an upset state too. When he blinked you got a clear view of the scarring around his eyes.

"Boss!" A familiar voice shouted from outside the door. "Boss!" Before you could move the door was thrown open, Spinner's wide eyes finding you standing there. He shook his confusion loose before turning back to Shigaraki who quickly changed his position to attention. "Come quick!"

You followed him back to the living space where the old television sat. The news playing loudly as everyone gathered around to watch in panic. Swat teams and heroes decorated the screen as shot after shot showed them surrounding your building. Fear ran from your toes to your head, making you feel nauseous and dizzy. Shit. Shit. Shit. They're here for you. But you...you weren't ready to leave. And what about-

"Not again! - We can take 'em'!" Twice shouted at it like a sport was playing.

"Tomura, what are we going to do!?" Toga asked, frantically bobbing up and down in panic. He watched the TV intently listening in.

"After receiving a tip from an anonymous source, police and heroes found missing tourist Y/L/N Y/N being held captive by The League of Villains in this abandoned office building. Officials are working now to safely rescue the hostage."

Suddenly a loud voice was heard both on TV and through the halls of the building.

"League of Villains. We have you surrounded. Please let Y/L/N go and no one will be hurt." A cop shouted through a megaphone.

"C'mon Shigaraki, what's the plan?" Dabi asked, clearly starting to get uncomfortable. Before Shigaraki could respond, you spoke.

"Well, looks like this is it for me." You began walking away, only to be stopped by a strong, four-fingered grip pulling you back.

"Where do you think you're going!?" He growled.

"The jig is up, Shigaraki! Let me go! I'm not useful anymore. All they want is me, if I'm out of your hair you'll be able to escape easier." His grip tightened, pulling you closer as his red eyes bore into yours.

"So long as you're here they won't dare make a move. You're still my most valuable player. You're staying right here."

#shigaraki x reader #shigaraki tomura #tomura shigaraki #Shigaraki #bnha fanfic #league of villians

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hanoella · 4 years ago

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Affettuoso- With Feeling (Part 3)

Pairing: Bucky x Pianist!Reader

Set after the events of TFATWS: In an effort to start over and make a home in Louisiana, Bucky meets a friend of Sam’s who ends up being his landlord. With only a driveway to separate them, he finds that he’s not the only one looking for a fresh start.

Series tags/warnings: Slow Burn, Eventual Bucky x Reader, Mentions of Domestic Abuse, Canon Level Violence

Part 3 Word Count: 3k

A/N: Can you tell I don't really have a posting schedule? lol. I also introduced links to the specific pieces I had in mind. I'm using soundcloud because I don't think everyone has access to spotify. Trying to be reader friendly! This can be read with or without the audio, as I do my best to still convey the thought in the fic. Though if you can, I highly recommend :)

Thanks again for all your support! Every heart and comment motivates me and is just so wonderful

Read Part 1; Masterlist

---

A few days had passed since the night that Bucky had overheard your troubles. It had been quiet since, and you hadn’t left the house. The curtains were opened during the day and closed at night, the only telltale signs that you existed.

Doesn’t she have to work? Bucky thought to himself. He speculated all the different possibilities as he used the riding mower around the property. Maybe you were an heiress? You seemed pretty down to earth though. Or maybe you sold a patented idea for a ton of money. All this land had to have been expensive. And to not request actual money from him?

He eyed up the width of the gate for your fence. The riding mower couldn’t fit so he would have to use a push mower for your fenced off yard. He hadn’t seen one in the garage. Maybe the old shed at the back of your yard had one? Bucky parked the mower in the garage, taking a moment to make a mental list of everything. Depending on if he found anything in the shed, he might need to buy a few basic tools and a chainsaw for that fallen tree.

He walked out of the garage and over to the shed. The leaves were changing color and it brought a whole new atmosphere to the secluded forest area. Opening the gate of the weathered white fence, he looked around to see if you were out. No signs of life. Entering the yard and closing the gate behind him, he started walking to the back. Halfway through, he stopped at the fire pit. The grey stone blocks were starting to crumble, with a few of the bricks having fallen off. It would probably be really nice if he got a little bit of cement mix and filled in the gaps. Bucky made another mental note.

The shed had no padlock so he was able to open it with no problem. Amongst the cobwebs and bags of soil, was an older green push mower that looked like it might work. He gave the gas a pull and got no response back. Looking underneath, Bucky saw what might be the problem. He’d have to take a closer look later. Putting the lawn mower back onto its wheels, he pushed it across the yard, pausing when he saw movement though the glass doors of the back patio.

Craning his neck to avoid the glare, he saw you sitting at your fancy full keyboard. The way the piano was against the opposite wall, your back was to him. You had big over-ear headphones plugged into it, so he couldn’t hear the sound but he saw the flurry of keys being pressed down. Whatever you were playing, you played passionately. Hands and arms gracefully moved despite the speed at which they were moving. Enhanced hearing coming into play, he heard the muffled clicks of the fluttering keys. Suddenly, you pressed down forcefully, holding whatever chord you had struck as your shoulders gently relaxed. A deep breath. Arm creating a graceful arc as if you had studied ballet, you pressed gently on another chord. And another. Bucky counted three more times you did this before you let your hands gently fall from the keys to your lap. Several moments passed before slid the headphones off of your ears to sit wrapped around your neck. Another deep breath. This time as the breath escaped you, you stayed slouched, head tilting up to stare at nothing on the wall.

A buzz broke Bucky from his trance.

“Call me, new mission” The text from Sam on his home screen said.

He pocketed his phone, glancing through the glass one more time. There you still sat.

Unmoving.

---

The roar of the plane’s engine was just loud enough to drown out Bucky’s thoughts without being annoying. If it weren’t for the adrenaline of the recovery mission under the cover of nightfall, he probably would’ve been lulled to sleep. Beside him sat Sam, looking on his phone for the exact coordinates of the politician they had been sent to rescue.

“Here it is. I’m assuming there’s some sort of underground base since there are no heat signatures anywhere within the radius where he was taken. It should take us about ten more minutes before we’re directly over it.”

Bucky hummed in acknowledgement.

Sam raised an eyebrow. “Earth to Bucky.”

“What does your friend do?” Bucky asked suddenly, sitting up straighter and turning towards him.

“… What?”

“What does she do? I’ve never seen her leave the house. Is she okay?”

“If you’re asking why she doesn’t leave the house, it’s because her contract doesn’t start for a while. She’s technically still supposed to be in physical therapy but she hasn’t found a place yet. You know, your whole routine gets messed up when you move.”

“For her shoulder?”

Now it was Sam’s turn to look at Bucky, trying to decipher the motive behind these questions. Bucky shifted his weight in the chair, antsy under the scrutiny.

“Never mind, I-”

“Yes, for her shoulder.” Sam said, cutting him off. He stopped himself from asking why Bucky wanted to know. There was an awkward pause before Bucky explained himself.

“I just wanted to know. I’m not used to seeing people so…”

“Similar to yourself?”

“I was gonna say isolated but fair point.” Bucky admitted. Sam leaned back in his chair, looking straight forward.

“She’s been through a lot… I know you heard some of it.”

Bucky blinked in surprise.

“I realized the window was open when I could hear you drive off.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s alright, it’s good that you know.” Sam said as he held up his hand to cut Bucky off.

“She’s just trying to get a fresh start. She’s in a raw emotional space and in the meantime is a little skittish. Just like someone else I know.” Sam jabbed his elbow into Bucky’s side as he enunciated the last sentence.

“Okay, okay, I get it. I’m trying!” He shouted as he held one hand up defensively and using the other to block the second jab Sam was trying to get in. Sam chuckled and then stood up, grabbing a parachute pack and tossing it at Bucky, who caught it without even looking.

“Figured you might wanna try an actual chute this time.”

Bucky rolled his eyes and mouthed Sam’s words mockingly with a grimace as he put the backpack on. Clipping it into place, he joined Sam at the side door of the plane.

“She used to play in an orchestra you know.” Sam said wistfully. “The piano. That’s actually how we met. She had volunteered to play a small concert before the dinner. It really helped raise a lot of money for the VA.”

Bucky stayed silent, prompting him to continue.

“Then that bastard she was engaged to beat her and then shoved her down a set of concrete steps when she tried to leave him. It was like a month after we all came back. She was in the hospital for a while. Broken ribs, broken shoulder, and a nasty concussion to boot. Neighbor saw the whole thing and called the cops but the courts were so backed up and the case fell through the cracks. Wouldn’t leave her alone after he got out. So, I pulled some strings and helped her move down here on the fly.”

“… That’s terrible.”

Bucky didn’t know what to say or how to react. They stood in silence, taking a moment to pay a respect of sorts to the trials you have been through. Then Sam broke the silence.

“She just needs time to heal in more ways than one. But she’s strong. Resilient.”

Putting a hand on Bucky’s shoulder, he squeezed it lightly with reassurance.

“Reminds me of someone else I know.” Sam said, finishing the conversation and pulling his goggles over his eyes, giving Bucky the opportunity to take the compliment without feeling too on the spot.

Pulling the door open, Sam shouted over the wind.

“Ready?”

Bucky nodded. Sam jumped from the plane and deployed the wings, the shield shining in the moonlight. Bucky jumped right behind him, using the glint of the silver star to guide his descent as he followed the man that gave the shield its meaning.

---

You laid with your head down on the kitchen table, letting the last golden rays of sun warm the side of your face. You were exhausted from going to physical therapy, especially since today had been the first appointment. All the measurements, all the exercises, all the stretching.

All the questions.

“So, how did you break your shoulder?” the young blonde physical therapist asked.

“Ah, I… fell down some stairs.” You said, looking down at your hands in your lap.

She didn’t look up from the papers, instead just raising an eyebrow.

“You also cracked some ribs and had a concussion?”

“… They were concrete.”

She looked up from the papers at you, analyzing. Her gaze softened and she asked no further questions on how these serious injuries had been obtained.

“Let’s look at your range of motion.”

You had practically stumbled into the house, kicking off your sneakers and plopping down at the kitchen table. Minutes passed by as you regained your breath, heartbeat steadying. The house was slightly cold since you had turned the heat down this morning. As your sweat cooled, you wrapped your arms around your legs in an attempt to keep you warm without getting up.

The sun feels so warm… You thought to yourself drowsily, feeling slightly less lonely. The sun was a cheap substitute for the warmth of a partner…

---

You jolted upright, the kitchen dark and cold. Neck and shoulder stiff from the awkward position you had dozed off in. Feeling the dryness of your mouth, you got up, stretching your neck gently while you walked to the fridge to get water. Chugging about half the bottle, you squinted at the clock. You had been asleep for about forty-five minutes. Groaning, you put the bottle down on the counter and walked into the living room to close the curtains. Grabbing one in each hand, you went to pull them together when you hesitated, noticing that Bucky’s apartment was dark for the third day in a row. The sleek motorbike that was usually parked under the slight overhang of the garage was missing as well.

He was probably on a mission, right? Not that it was any of your business. You shut the curtains and turned off the lights before lightly padded down the hall, stopping to adjust the thermostat. The heat kicked on, sending a puff of cold air your way. You shivered as you walked with a quickened pace to your room, shutting the door and heading into the master bathroom, turning the hot water on with just a tad of cold.

Waiting for the shower to warm up, you leaned over the sink and looked into the mirror. Dark circles under your eyes. Small scar on the bridge of your nose. Running your hand through the roots of your hair, you felt for the scar where the stitches had been. When was the last time you had a haircut? Or put on some makeup?

Some higher being must’ve felt pity for you since the steam from the shower fogged the glass, preventing you from tearing yourself apart any further. Stepping underneath the warm stream, you let the warmth seep into your muscles, then bones, filling every fracture and break with a temporary sense of wholeness until the emptiness of your heart and home caused it slowly to drip out until it, along with you, was gone.

---

The next morning, you weren’t motivated to do anything. You lounged around the house, sipping on coffee and browsing on your phone for furniture, clothes, even sneaking a peak at some pianos. Wanting to invest in one you’d use for the next several decades, you had put off buying one until the money from your contract with the orchestra started in a month. You were still well off, nowhere near struggling and probably wouldn’t ever be unless you decided to buy a mansion (which was a no). You just wanted to be careful.

In the afternoon, you popped a pain killer and muscle relaxer in preparation for the few hours you wanted to practice. Thirty minutes went by and the ever-present ache in your shoulder calmed enough to let you practice with relative peace. Sitting on the bench in front of the keyboard, you pondered what you might play to warm up.

Hmm, maybe a Chopin prelude? Short, emotional, familiar.

Your left hand held the soft deep chords as your right hand softly flitted around the higher notes. Breathing in and out with the music, you tried to ignore the ache that start to surround your shoulder.

Playing the last few notes, you paused before reaching over to the bottle of painkillers.

---

Shortly after finishing up, you dragged a small table outside next to the wooden bench swing that was hanging on the porch. Bundled up in a soft sweatshirt, long-sleeve shirt, wool lined leggings, fuzzy socks and slippers, you brought out your hot tea, several blankets, a pillow, and a book you had been meaning to read for months. You were determined to do something besides practice, watch TV, and scroll on your phone.

You settled onto the bench, wrapping the blanket around you, nice and toasty from the layers trapping in the heat of a thorough practice session. The extra medication had really helped keep the pain at bay. Tentatively sipping the steaming cup, you closed your eyes to further appreciate the sweet tones of peach and honey. Setting the cup in your lap with one hand, you used your other hand to flip open to the first page.

---

Bucky hadn’t expected the mission to get so complicated. Finding the base was one thing, navigating in and out of the expansive maze was another. It took a few days to successfully get the target out and back to the embassy. He hadn’t properly slept during that time due to taking shifts with Sam. Not that it was any different from how he slept at home.

The sun was letting its last few rays bless the earth when he turned onto the driveway. Taking it easy on the gravel, he eased his posture and slowed the bike. He put pressure on the brakes as he made it past the final wall of trees that hid the water that was reflecting the last bit of color left in the sky. Rolling casually into a stop, he parked and let out a deep breath, shoulders sinking.

A stray bird calling out turned his attention in the direction of your house. The porch light was on. That’s new, he thought. Squinting his eyes, he saw a bundle on the porch swing. Was that you? Quietly walking over while taking his leather gloves off, he confirmed his suspicions. There you were, lying on your side propped up by a large fuzzy pillow. Eyes closed and breathing rhythmically. Scanning the scene, he noticed the mug on the side table, empty except for the used teabag. Your book was closed, the page you were on marked by one of your fingers. You must’ve fallen asleep while reading.

“Hey…” Bucky said gently. No response besides a small nose scrunch.

He repeated himself a little louder, squatting to be at eye level while gently setting his hand on your arm and shaking you lightly. You groaned this time, eyes fluttering open, taking a moment to focus. You squinted and pushed yourself up into a sitting position, losing your place in the book and attempting to blink the heavy drowsiness from your eyes.

“Bucky?” You questioned hoarsely as you met his eyes. He was still crouching so you were looking slightly down at him. Brow furrowed, you searched the blue of his eyes before looking around to see how dark it had gotten. As you turned your head back to him, he stood back up, scratching the back of his neck just to occupy his hands.

“It’s starting to get cold. I didn’t want you to spend the rest of the night out here.” He explained, choosing to look out at the water, now dark. When he turned his head back, you had also turned your head to look at the water, exposing the side of your neck, the tendons and clavicle accentuated by the strain. Bucky swallowed and your eyes met his, oblivious.

“Ah, thank you. I must’ve fallen asleep reading. I just started going back to physical therapy so I’ve just been so wiped… Anyway,” you said, dismissing yourself mid-thought. He didn’t want to hear about all that. “…did you just come back from a mission?” You eyed the diagonal cuts of leather on his jacket, noting the missing sleeve that exposed the glint of the metal.

“Yeah. I was gone for a few days.”

“Okay. I’m glad you’re home safe.” You mindlessly said, picking up the book and other various items strewn about.

Home safe. What an unfamiliar phrase.

As the words echoed in his mind, you had opened the door and stepped in, turning your head slightly to look back at him.

“Thanks again… Good night.”

“Good night.” Bucky replied, watching as you shut the door softly behind you.

Slowly walking down the porch steps, he crossed the driveway to the garage. Turning his head just in time to see the last light turn off in your house, he stood with his hand on the knob, meditating on the effect that one short sentence had on him.

Glad you’re home safe. Was this what it was like when you had someone waiting on you at home? The tired eyes and gentle smile. Would that be what it was like when he came home in the middle of a night from a mission when he had someone to share a bed with? Gently shaking them to let them know he was home? Or would he try to sneak into bed without waking them? He tried to imagine what that sort of intimacy would be like as he entered his apartment and then his room. Unzipping his jacket and tossing it over a chair, he stripped down to his boxer briefs and climbed into bed, wondering what it would be like if it was already warm.

#bucky x y/n #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes x reader #bucky x female reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky x reader #bucky x you #bucky imagine #SoundCloud

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myheelsdontmatchmysweatpants · 4 years ago

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This is my first collab fic and I could not be more excited! I'm so thankful that I can be part of the group!

The AU for this month was Sex Work. The Masterlist for this collab can be found here. Please take some time to check out everyone's contributions! There are other fics and amazing art!

That being said here is my fic, big BIG shout out to @doinmybesthere for being an amazing beta reader and sweet angel bb. ily Emme!

Please please please read the warnings. They are there for a reason!

Warnings: consensual noncon, mentions of being burnt, stabbing and blood; no prep penetration, disrespectful use of the word "whore", blackmail, psychological abuse?, Mineta (nuff said) he gets what's comin to him

You’re in the doctor’s office getting a regular checkup when you overhear the nurses in the station next to you talking.

“Look! They posted the new hero rankings today.”

“I forgot those were today, too bad they can’t have the conference during the pandemic. I miss seeing Deku all cute and blushing.”

“FUCK” In your brief moment of panic you forgot where you were. You cringe and look at the nurses, trying your best not to look like you were gonna be sick. “Sorry ladies, didn’t mean to yell.” No point in offering an explanation. You wouldn’t be able to tell them anything anyway.

As you very impatiently wait for your blood results to come back you check the tacky red cell phone you have to keep with you at all times. You had put it on silent since you were in the doctor’s office and you were glad you did. Taking a quick look at your screen had your stomach dropping into your ass.

M.M: Gonna move my appointment up to today.

M.M: You better get ready. I’m not happy.

M.M: I’m sure you saw the postings. Number 36.

M.M: I made sure to pay for any accidents in advance.

M.M: I’ll see you tonight.

Why does he have to be so fucking horrible? Accidents my ass.

The messages make your skin crawl, you should have figured the hero rankings would piss him off but honestly you never paid enough attention. With a heavy sigh you opened up your web browser and pull up the list.

“Number 36...number 36…. Number 36…” When you finally reached the hero you were looking for, you let out a sigh.

Hero Ranking Number 36: The Rainy Season Hero Froppy

Well at least you had her outfit already, for some reason she was one your client asked for a lot. Not that you wanted to ask him why, not with the way his black eyes looked whenever he saw you dressed up like her.

I don’t know if I should feel glad that he isn’t actually taking this out on her. Or upset that I’ve had to deal with this for months.

“L/N, Y/N?” The doctor walks up holding their clipboard and closing the privacy screen. Your file almost too much for the metal clip at the top. “Your test results came back negative and your burns seem to have healed very well. I would tell you that any strenuous activity should be avoided but we both know you can’t do that.”

Their poor attempt at humor had your stomach rolling. “Haha anyways Doc, I think I’m gonna need another medkit to take home today. I can schedule my next appointment online, right?”

You can’t handle the thinly veiled pity in their eyes and look down, reaching over to your side to grab your purse. You hear them moving around and a dark blue plastic box is put on your lap.

“If I remember correctly this is your favorite color, right? You are able schedule an appointment online but if you would like I can schedule it for you. How about in two days? Afternoon work for you?”

You look up after clutching the kit to your chest, you know they are just trying to be nice. All of the nurses are especially nice to you and as endearing as it might be to some people, to you it just feels dirty.

“Afternoon is perfect, thanks Doc.” You get up and walk towards the privacy screen. Before leaving you stop for a moment “Blue ismy favorite color.”

As you make your way back to your living quarters you scroll through the internet looking at every picture of the Pro-Hero Froppy you can find. Your quirk can project a person’s desires onto your body by reading them in their eyes. It’s easier when the person has a clear view of what or who they want. However, your client’s desires are such a jumbled mess that it’s easier if you know what it is beforehand.

Hopefully, I can act like her enough that I don’t have to look at his desires this time. I can’t stand how disgusting they make me feel.

You pass by a few familiar faces on your way back to your rooms but don’t pay them any mind. They in turn leave you alone, most of them knowing that when you have that look on your face you were in a mood.When you first were offered a position at the brothel you thought it would be easy money. You had been stripping for several years, known for how you looked different to everyone who saw your dancing. The beautiful, enchanting, flexible Erised. You had built up your quirks ability to be able to project almost a full clubs worth of desires. Sure, it caused extreme fatigue and chronic migraines but the money you raked in was well worth it.

A few months ago

After an especially successful night a patron walks up to you after you leave the stage.

“I have a job opportunity for you, courtesy of my employer.” He hands you a card you read “Heroes Consulting Agency” in bold silver letters.

“I’m a stripper hun, not sure I can do the type of consulting you’re looking for.” You go to hand it back, but they put their hand up.

“I’m afraid I must insist, why don’t we treat you to lunch and you can listen to our proposal?”

You put your hand back down and study them. They are dressed in a white button up with a vest, definitely out of place in a strip club. You would look in their eyes, but they didn’t really have any, their whole body seemed to be made of dark smoke. You don’t work in the nicest of places so someone with their kind of full body quirk isn’t unusual.

“Alright, I give. I’m not really one to pass up free food.” The rational side of your brain is telling you that you have more than enough money to buy your own food but the stingy part telling you to take it while you can is a little louder.

“Excellent choice Miss Erised. Someone will meet you at the address on that card tomorrow at around 5pm? Should give you enough time to recover from the side effects of your quirk.” They give a slight bow and walk off towards the exit, a large something getting up from a seat and following closely behind.

Sam, one of the waitresses walks up to you with a tray filled with drinks. Her normally short stature elevated with high heeled leather boots. “Did you know that person Y/N?”

Oh man, I do not have the energy for this.

You turn to her and survey the tray before grabbing something that looked like a fruity cocktail. “No, but they offered me a job. Gonna go have lunch with them tomorrow.” Sipping from the glass you tuck the card into your bra, making sure to not show it to the girl.

“That’s weird, don’t they know you’re a stripper? What is someone dressed that nicely want to hire you for? Also did that person look familiar to you or is that just me?” Any normal person wouldn’t be able to keep up with her unending questions, but you had known her for years. The tray in her hands tips dangerously to the left but she balances it out without a second thought.

Guess she does have to be quick on her toes to be a waitress at a strip club.

“They were here for my dance so yes they do know, either way I’m getting free food so…”

She huffs, aware of your attitude for anything “free”.

You finish the drink and place the empty glass back taking a couple bills from your bag and tucking them into her apron.

“Thanks for the drink Sam, but I gotta leave before my headache hits.” You walk off before she can say anything further. You really wanna be nice to her but her endless energy really gets on your nerves sometimes.

By the time you make it to your modest apartment, you can feel the pain starting behind your eyes. You drop your stuff by the door without turning on any lights and walk to the box safe hidden in the kitchen. After you make sure all the money is secure you grab a glass of water and head to the bedroom. The bottle of pain killers already set out on your nightstand. You should really take a shower but for now, you strip down, take a few pills, drink the whole glass of water, and lay down. It takes a while for the pills to kick in but once they do you finally fall asleep.

When you finally wake up the next morning your headache is gone, and you have to piss like no one’s business. You grumble as you stretch your tight sore muscles and get up to go to the bathroom. After taking care of business, you get into some light clothes and walk into the kitchen to make some food. Thankfully, you had some leftover rice and spam in the fridge, so you pop that in the microwave. You put the kettle on for some green tea and down another glass of water as it heats up.

Remembering the offer from yesterday and the promise of free food you pad over to your pile of things by the door and grab their card. It’s sleek looking with a plain black background and silver lettering. The address isn’t something you recognize right away so you look it up on your phone.

“What the fuck?” Why is this place in a business park?

You scroll down and check the street view; the building is a high rise surrounded by a mostly empty parking lot. The entrance of the building is blurred, probably to keep the privacy of anyone entering or exiting.

“Well, I guess it’s a nice gig. Better dress the part.” Or maybe you’re gonna get murdered.

“Wow, I really have to stop watching all those true crime shows.” You put the card in your wallet and head back to the kitchen. The microwave beeps and the kettle whistles shortly after. When you’re done eating you put the dishes in the sink to soak and head to the bathroom to finally take a shower.

By the time you have finished showering the whole bathroom is filled with steam and your body has a pink flush to it. You open the door to air it out and finish cleaning up for the day. Your outfit consists of your nicest jeans with ankle boots, a long sleeve blouse and a dark cardigan. You grab one of your smaller over the shoulder purses and leave your apartment.

One of the things you allowed yourself to really splurge on was a car. Public transportation was not as reliable as it could be and with your hours not the safest either.

By the time you make it to the building the sun is starting to set, giving the sky beautiful pink to blue coloring. As you park and get out of your car a young woman walks up to you.

“Welcome Miss Erised! Please follow me and I will escort you through the building.” The woman’s blonde hair is in two messy buns, her face childlike. Her voice was high pitched enough to grate on your nerves a bit, but you ignored it.

As you follow the person through the lobby you take a glance around. Looks like a high-end hotel lobby. There is a front desk area with a marble counter top, women that are dressed in matching button ups with their hair up in buns or ponytails. Random potted plants and small trees dot the area, and a nice chandelier hangs in the middle of the ceiling. No one besides the women at the front desk are in the area.

“Doesn’t seem to be busy right now.” You didn’t even really mean for her to hear you, but she did, and you sounded like an asshole.

They turn their head slightly with a knowing smirk. “It would seem that way wouldn’t it?”

Conversation halts while you stand in the elevator which you were thankful for. They had chosen a floor close to the middle of the building, which gave you just enough time to rethink your life choices.

By the time you got to your floor you are tired of the silence. Normally you hate small talk, but you figured you would give it a shot. “Do you like your job?”

The woman turns to you and smiles, here canines peeking out a bit while shrugging her shoulders. “It keeps me busy, plus I get to make so many friends.” The gleam in her eyes flashes menacingly for a quick second, you decide to pretend you didn’t see it.

As you get to the end of the hall, she opens a door and gestures you inside, closing it behind you. There is a nice desk to the left of the door, other than that the room is sparce. The person sitting in the chair has quite an eclectic look about him. Grey hair parted to the side, shrew eyes behind circular wire rimmed glasses, a gold chain peeks out from the slightly open white button up with a purple blazer. He reeks of cigarette smoke the evidence of his habit tossed into the half-filled ash tray on the desk.

“So nice of you to join me Miss Y/N. Why don’t you have a seat, we can talk about your new position.” He gestures to the only other chair a smirk on his face that shows of his missing tooth.

“I haven’t accepted the job yet Giran, and I thought I told you I don’t want to work for you.” You aren’t used to seeing him in this type of place. But you do know him so there is no need to put on a show. You lean back in the chair and cross your arms.

“How rude of me, you won’t be working for me, but I have been given authority to hire for this company.”

You don’t bat an eye; most large companies use outside help for hiring. “What is this position you would like offer me?”

“This company provides heroes with a way to alleviate their… desires in a safe and discrete way.”

“So, you hire prostitutes for heroes to have sex without worrying about anyone telling the press about it.”

“That is correct.”

“I don’t know if your just stupid or if you forgot but I’m a stripper not a hooker.” You sit up in your chair fully ready to leave the room.

“They would provide you with a fully furnished apartment, medical coverage with 24/7 access to their fully trained medical staff. Any cash given to you by your clients you can keep, however they would take a percentage out of the money they initially pay for your services.”

“Let’s say I’m a little interested, how much is the initial pay for my services?” You want to deny the offer, nothing wrong with having sex for money but it isn’t really your thing.

Giran doesn’t answer right away, instead putting out what is left of his cigarette only to pull another one out of his blazer and lighting it up. “The starting hourly rate is $2,500 an hour, they would take 30 percent from that.”

Holy shit, that’s as much as I make in a day and I would be making it an hour? You keep your face neutral but something in your eyes must have tipped him off.

“You would start tomorrow; most clients keep a contract with their favorite employee and we actually have someone lined up for you already. He has extremely specific tastes and you are the perfect person to fill in.”

“I’ll have to talk to the club owner; would it be possible to start later?” You don’t want to seem to eager, especially not in front of him.

“I don’t see that as a problem, they can give you one week but that’s it.”

You stay silent, making it look like you’re thinking about it. After a moment you lean forward in your chair and stick your hand out. “Sounds like a deal to me.”

Giran grabs you hand and gives it a firm shake. “If you ever need help or have any questions call the number on the card. Now I believe you were offered dinner, let me take you to one of my favorite places.”

You let his hand go and rise from the chair. As Giran comes around the desk and walks towards the door, he stops for a moment and turns to you. “Welcome to the team.”

Dinner was actually genuinely nice; the food was good, and you were able to have a comfortable conversation with Giran. Of course, he didn’t tell you anything about himself, but you had no problems with that, you didn’t wanna share anything to personal about yourself either. He dropped you back off at your car after dinner and shook your hand again before driving off.

By the time you got home you had decided what you were gonna tell the club owner and mentally packed your apartment. Not wanting to take all of your things you moved most of it to a secure storage facility. Having had it for a few years already in order to store the overabundance of clothes you owned.

After the week was up you had quit your job and packed all of your belongings. You realize you don’t know where you are supposed to go so you pull out the card and call the number.

“Hello, how can I assist you?”

“Giran never told me where I would be moving my stuff to. Could you give me the address?” You pick at your nails while waiting for him to answer.

“Of course, Miss Erised. Will you be needing any assistance for your move?”

He sounds so polite; I wonder if he is always like this.

“No, I’ll be fine on my own thank you.”

He gives you the address and let you know that you can call if you need any additional information.

“Good luck Miss Erised.”

When you get back to your apartment you immediately go into the shower and wash up, using the tea tree oil that Froppy had said she uses in an interview.

I don’t understand how people can like this stuff, but he gets easier to handle if I smell like those women.

When you are done you towel dry your hair and make sure to lotion your whole body. When your hair is dry enough you straighten it and leave it down. He likes it better when its down.

You go to your closet and rifle through until finding the very skimpy version of Froppys hero costume. All it really has in common with the original is the tan harness and the green with black and yellow stripes. Otherwise, it is a one-piece bikini without a crotch. You grab your black leather over the knee boots and get dressed. After checking the time, you give yourself a moment to mentally prepare.

I hate this, I hate him. Disgusting filthy little bug. A false hero, a plague. I can’t wait to leave this place.

Standing in the middle of your room you close your eyes and take deep breaths, allowing your consciousness to drift. You have found that the best way to endure these sessions is to detach yourself from the situation. Only focusing on the absolute necessary and maintaining the effects of your quirk. Giving yourself another minute to get into character you walk to the door joining your apartment to the “service room”.

Thankfully, he hasn’t shown up yet, you shut the door hearing the lock click into place, the door seamlessly vanishing into the wall. Sitting on the edge of the bed you face the door that Mineta will walk through and wait.

No matter how many times we do this I never lose the feeling of wanting to vomit while bathing in bleach.

When he walks in you see that he is wearing his hero costume, as atrocious as it is. He never really deviated from the original design. You immediately start your performance.

“Mineta? What am I doing here? kero” You clasp your hands together in front of your chest and look around frightfully.

“Hello Tsu, what a pleasant surprise to see you here.” He walks up, taking off his gloves and throwing them to the side.

“I don’t understand, do you know where- “Your sentence is cut off, pain in your cheek sharp and hot.

“I don’t believe I gave you permission to talk Miss thirty sixth hero.” He stands there with his hand still up as you cup your cheek and look up at him, the tears in your eyes real. He pulls his hand back again as if to slap you and you flinch.

“Good girl, now finish taking off my outfit for me.” Mineta walks back a few steps and holds his arms out. Your fingers are clumsy as you take it of piece by piece.

Mineta abruptly grabs a fist full of your hair and yanks your head back. You grab his hand with both of yours trying to ease his grip.

“Do you think if you do it slow enough, I’ll get bored and go away?” He pulls harder. “Huh? You really think you’re gonna get out of this don’t you.” He tosses you towards the bed and you scramble to get back on your feet.

The tears in your eyes have started to spill over and you start babbling. “Please let me go Mineta, I don’t know what I did but please pleasejust forgive me kero. I won’t tell anyone about this just please don’t hurt me kero.”

He doesn’t answer you, just finishes taking off his outfit before he is walking towards you again, a vicious gleam in his beady eyes.

You back up until the back of your legs hits the bed. You open your mouth to speak but before you can utter a single word, he slaps you again.

“I told you not to speak unless I told you to once already. Now I’m gonna have to punish you, aren’t I?” He shoves you onto the bed and follows, using his knees to push your legs open he sits up and gives himself a few pumps.” No need to prep you, I want this to hurt.”

You are sobbing at this point, your hands covering your face when you feel him push into you. A scream rips out of your throat and you reach forward to push him away.

“You know Tsu, these meetups have been the best. I’m thinking next time I will find the REAL you and have even more fun.” He closes his eyes a leans his head back, fully immersed in only getting himself off.

To engrossed in his own world, he doesn’t realize that you have gone still. Your tears have stopped, and you have pulled your hands back from him.

DISGUSTING

“Find the real me?”

VILE

You break character, bringing your full consciousness back. You voice is just a whisper at first, so he doesn’t hear you, doesn’t stop thrusting.

FALSE HERO

“Find the REAL me?!” You are screaming at him now.

He finally stops, hearing you the second time. For a second you see fear in his eyes before they fill with rage.

MONSTER

“Hey! You better start doing the job I paid you for, I don’t come here for you to question me.” He lifts his hand up, as if to slap you again. Before his hand comes down you grab it, squeezing until he yelps in pain.

This job is over, he isn’t worth keeping around anymore.

“You think I give a shit about a little piss ant like you?!” As you sit up, he yanks his arm away and pulls out of you. Stumbling back, he starts shaking a finger in your direction.

“You can’t talk to me like that! You’re just a whore!”

You dart forward before he can put more distance between you and grab him by the neck. As you pick him up you snarl and let your quirk fade away.

“I may be a whore but I not a monster like you. You are just a fake hero, a plague on this world and I will get rid of every single one of you.” You throw him onto the ground still holding on to his neck and squeeze.

“In other news, Minoru Mineta also known as the pro hero Grape Juice has gone missing after several videos of him have gone viral. He was last seen leaving a brothel that has requested to remain nameless. The videos contain triggering scenes of the pro hero having relations with a prostitute while she is dressed in various hero suits the resemble his old female classmates. He even refers to them by name. The videos contain triggering images, and it is recommended to not seek them out. The original videos have since been taken down but are reuploaded onto the internet on several other sites. The prostitute shown in the videos has also gone missing. Any information on the whereabouts- “

The T.V. turns off, the voice of the news anchor no longer filling the dimly lit bar. The people present remain silent for a moment before a man with burns all over his body starts to laugh.

“You could have really fucked that up Doll. Good thing we got enough evidence.” You sneer at him, making sure you change your appearance to match your own desire. He flinches when he sees his own face.

“I wish you had cut him! There wasn’t enough blood to keep his appearance up for awfully long!” The young woman with two messy blond buns in her hair twirls a knife around.

“I’m terribly sorry Toga, but I didn’t have anything sharp with me.” You pick at your nails and look over at Kurogiri, who is busy pouring a glass of whiskey for Dabi. “Do I get a break after this one or do you and boss man have another gig for me?”

#lillith masterlist #lillith writes #lilliths writing

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missjessefantastico · 4 years ago

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I've seen the same post about sensory issues reblogged like eight times from you. Is everything okay? I'm a little worried. It seems... stressed? Frustrated? I hope you're okay.

Hi! Thank you for your concern. I am indeed stressed and frustrated, but the things I can control are okay. However, I'm going to take this opportunity to explain why I am doing it, and I'm going to work under the assumption that you know nothing about Sanders Sides for the sake of making clear where I'm coming from.

Sanders Sides (from now on TSS) started as little goofy videos trying to explain and help resolve relatable internal conflicts such as learning new things, discovering who you are, analysing the origins of your favorite movies, etc, etc.

With time, they started to tackle more complex topics, involve bigger research, use a bigger production and became longer than 20 minutes each. No problems here from my part besides some quality concerns that have nothing to do with this and I will not talk about right now.

In the video Learning new thing about ourselves (LNTAO), a clear and timely warning due to flashing lights was emitted. By this I mean the warning was made at the very beginning of the video, it stayed on screen around five seconds in big bold letters, giving the exact timestamp of where photosensitive issues may be triggered and offered an alternate version for the clip on the description.

As an epileptic person who has ocassional photosensitive reactions myself, I was beyond happy because these kind of warnings, although necessary, are weirdly issued on time on mass media (see Incredibles 2, Into the spiderverse, Lalaland, and almost every Netflix original), even less offer alternate safe versions before health problems arise.

I saw this as a small scale big step to accessibility in media, I would give it as an example to anyone who would listen to my endless rants about the need for warnings about these effects. I still use it as an example sometimes. Because not only there was a warning and an alternate version, they were around three very light flashing sequences with appropiate spacing in a time frame of 43 seconds. It was a warning, an alternate version, and it followed the safety guidelines. One of the most amazing things I have seen in matters of seizure accessibility.

Why am I so angry then? Well, let's fast forward to the video Putting others first (POF). The link you saw me reblog so much was a compilation made by @yeet-ceit detailing every instance of potentially triggering material in regards not only of seizures, but any other sensory issue, as well as a brief explanation of why this is concerning. There was a rough 12:23 minutes of potentially triggering material in 51:09 minutes video. In other words, 23.93% of the video was damaging to people with ADHD, autism, epilepsy, chronic migraines, anxiety, etc. This video had no warning at all.

As I said, my epilepsy is ocassionally photosensitive. Only ocassionally. Yet, after five minutes of watching the episode, I couldn't remember most of it. I remember there was a song, I remember the name reveal and the angsty ending. The rest is a blur.

Memory loss is a part of some types of seizures, and seizures imply brain damage.

How did we go from the accessibility wonder that was LNTAO to memory loss on POF? I can't remember and I don't want to risk watching the video again just to understand fandom memes.

That is still NOT my main concern. TSS may be known as a @thatsthat24 youtube show, but everyone in the fandom knows that @thejoanglebook basically runs the show.

TSS would not be the main attraction of the channel without Joan's intervention. Naturally, they were asked if the next TSS will be more sensory friendly, they replied they didn't know why last video was an issue and later apologized for coming out as harsh.

I have no problem with them not knowing why it was damaging. However, I have a big problem with them not showing no signal of wanting to learn. The replies to their post went without acknowledgement and when yeet-ceit tried to give them the link to the post with the explanation the result was the same.

Why am I spamming Joan with the link now? Because I don't want any excuse for not knowing in the future. I understand they can't possibly see everything that is sent to them, but by heavens above, I can try.

#thomas sanders #thatsthat24 #thejoanglebook #sanders sides #anonSinCorbata #askjessefantastico

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static-fanatic-1 · 4 years ago

Text

Test To Stay

-| Stuck at a StandStill |-

StandStill: Chapter Two

Word Count: 4.3k

Warnings: Mineta is part of the story sadly.

Today's the day! Today is the day Aiko will head into class 1-A and make a name for herself. Her confidence as of lately has been at an all time high, never before had she felt so ready for whatever would come her way. The air smelled faintly of cherry blossoms and the weather was just perfect. Nothing would stop her!

A hand clasped harshly onto her shoulder, once again making her jump out of her skin and whip around. Her nose was practically touching Komori's because of how close he was. "Guess who got into the Hero Course, Sweetheart." His rave black hair swept in the wind, it's messy appearance complimenting the thick glasses hanging off his button nose.

She hated that nickname, he gave it to her long ago and for some reason it still stuck. Besides, what should she even say to that? Surely he will be in class 1-A with her when the bell rings. Better save herself the pain and let him figure it out himself. "Good for you. I'm proud of you."

Komori lifted a brow, the smaller girl sounded so genuine with her words, yet there was still a hint of something beneath those encouraging words. Something he couldn't exactly place. Still, the words gave the black haired boy a thing of punk on his tanned cheeks. "Well then, if that's all you have to say I'll see you at lunch. And don't worry your pretty little head, I'll tell you all about the Hero Course." He leaned down and patted her head with a heavy hand.

Aiko furrowed her brows and scooted away, Komori strutting his way into the school grounds. Her tense figure relaxed a bit, moving to the front to dispose of her outside shoes and placing her clip-on roller blades in her book bag. She shuffled a few things around and turned to find her class, but luck have it, she bumped into someone. "Sorry!" She quickly exclaimed, hands up in defense.

The figure she bumped into was tall and broad for his age, and when she looked up she noticed a familiar face from just a few days ago. He adjusted his glasses and straightened out his silver school uniform. He raised one of his hands, almost as if he was about to slap her. She flinched. "It's fine. People make mistakes."

Sighing, Aiko examined the student further. As stated he was broad shouldered and tall for his age, with thin glasses resting on his nose. His face and jaw was strong, defined, and his eyes were a beautiful navy blue that matched his short yet neatly parted hair.

He shut his locker, which was opposite of hers, and turns back to her. "What class are you going to?" His hand pointed at her, palm facing up.

"Oh! Um—Class 1-A. You?" She asked carefully.

A pleased grin stretched across his cheeks. "Class 1-A, If you and I are going to be classmates, how about we exchange names? I am Iida Tenya." He extended his hand in a mutual form of respect.

"Takahashi Aiko, I prefer Aiko though." She gave a gentle grin and cocked her head to the side. "Nice to meet you Iida-kun." Her small hand was engulfed around his own, and in contrast against her gentle nature, his shaking and grip was iron.

"Well, Iida," She tasted his name on her tongue one more time to make sure she didn't mess it up. "We should probably get to class before we are late."

He whipped his head toward the fancy watch he wore on his wrist. "You're right! Let's go." With an almost robotic walk, he led the way to Class 1-A.

"Do you know where you are going?" Aiko questioned before thinking about her words. Was asking that rude?

"No!! But we can follow the signs they placed for the first years." He kept walking, turning his head just a bit to make eye contact with the girl. "If we go up the stairs to the second floor and turn right we should be there."

Her silver eyes glanced over at the signs and posters on the wall, a few being the ones from before but many were signs posting to classes. "Oh, my bad."

"Don't worry about it."

The two students traveled up the stairs and stayed right. Many different students passed them, each one making their way to their classes. A certain figure passed them though, one Aiko was too focused to not notice.

His wings flared behind his back, why the hell was she going right? The General Studies and Business Courses are on the left side, did she somehow get into the Support Course? Komori's dangerous, plum eyes watched her walk behind a guy with engines in his calves.

He kept walking behind the pair, watching and waiting to see where they end up. Is that guy a friend or something? Aiko and the tall guy stopped in front of a large door, one that towered all the way to the high rise roof. Inscripted on the side of the door in bolded, white letters screamed 'Class 1-A'. No way, no way in hell did she get into that class.

Komori accidentally bumped shoulders with another student, this one having blonde hair and a smug look on his face. "Pardon me." He snapped through gritted teeth.

The blond glanced at the two disappearing figures, scoffing and placing his hands on his hips. "Class 1-A, they have nothing on us." He bitterly exclaimed, waving his hand in a dismissive way. "This year, Class 1-B will be the ultimate hero Course!" He chuckled maliciously.

The bat man with black hair cocked his head to the side. "You're in Class 1-B?"

"Truly! Class 1-A will finally learn what it is like to be second best! None of them will come close to being strong enough to face me!"

Komori quirked up a brow and grinned. "I think you and I will be great friends." A clawed hand extended toward the cocky blond. "Komori." He introduced.

The blond glanced up at his taller classmate, the mischievous grin on his features twisting into a pleased expression. "Monoma, pleasure to meet you, Komori."

~~~

Aiko's pink lips stretched into a soft smile at the other students already in class. When she entered half of the entire class was already in their seats. Some of the more extroverted people talked to the students next to them, like Kaminari talking to the guy in front of him. Wait, did that guy have a tail?

Speaking of the blond, when he saw a familiar set of silver eyes and pale pink hair, he stood up and enthusiastically waved in her direction. Aiko waved back with a questioning yet polite look, shuffling over to take an empty seat in the back. She put down her bag and picked out her sketchbook, last night she was designing her costume but it wasn't approved, so she had to play around with her sketches to figure something out. Maybe more skin?

Every time a new student entered, Aiko couldn't help but anxiously await Komori, when was he going to show up? He would have probably showed up by now, right? Still, when a certain ash-blond entered with his hands stuffed into his pockets, she couldn't help but stare at his pursed lips. Why does he always look so pissed off?

Bakugou collapsed onto a chair and threw his feet onto the desk. Aiko cringed, and Iida, oh poor Iida... it was almost like he had a sixth sense for stuff like that. He strutted over to Bakugou, his entire body filled with momentum as his hands waved around in disapproval.

"Remove your foot from that desk! Such an action is insulting to those who came to U.A. before us as well as the craftsmen who made the desk!!" His hands pointed to the desk and the boy.

"Like I care." The delinquent leaned closer to Iida's face. "What middle school did you come from, you extra?"

Aiko's concerned gaze shifted to the newest student entering the class, his face was difficult to describe. Almost like he was disturbed but too polite to fully express it. Her attention returned to Iida, one hand now over his heart.

"I-I'm from Somei Private Academy. My name is Tenya Iida."

"Somei?!" The blond snapped. "A stuck-up elitist then? I should blow you to bits then."

Iida backed off in surprise... or was it disgust? "You're aweful. Do you really want to become a hero?!" Without fully finishing the conversation, Iida noticed the broccoli haired boy and wondered over to him instead. "I'm from Somei Academy...." The tall male introduced, hand outstretched.

The boy from the sludge villain incident tensed up and waved his hands in front of his body. "I heard you before! Ah... I'm Izuku Midoriya. Pleased to meet you Iida."

They talked a bit more, though it was more of a hushed conversation. Aiko tilted her head at the green haired boy, could he have been hurt to the point of making him skittish? Through her experiences, Aiko could only guess.

The door creaked open behind them, a sweet looking girl with brown hair, chocolate eyes, and a smile just as sweet as sugar. "Ah! That curly hair!! The plain looking boy!!" She pumped her fist in the air. "You got in! Just like Present Mic said!! Makes sense though!! That punch was awesome!!"

His entire face flushed a bright red, his hand covering as he turned away. "No! I-I mean...! I have to thank you for speaking on my behalf... I... well...."

Aiko found the transaction cute, a shy boy and a girl that seemed too sweet to be normal, so she returned to her sketches and kept her mouth shut. Until everything was suddenly quiet.

She glanced back at the door, the same scruffy teacher from the entrance exam huddled into a yellow sleeping bag. A small pouch in his hand that he sucked on. "This is... the Hero Course."

'Huh?'

He stumbled out of the bag, letting it fall to the floor as he entered. "I'm your homeroom teacher, Shota Aizawa. Pleased to meet you." Although his words were professional, his tone said otherwise, like he was beyond bored to be here. He lifted up his bag and grabbed something within, pulling out a classic U.A. training uniform you would see during their tournaments. "Quickly now. Change into your gym clothes and head out to the grounds."

The entire class was split, some were jumping from their desk in excitement while the other half stood with a nervous hesitance. Aiko was part of the nervous group, but one at a time everyone took their issued gym clothes.

The girls rushed into the locker room, a certain pink skinned girl with curly horns on top her fluffy, lighter toned hair, beamed in excitement. "What do you think we are going to do?" She asked, turning to face the small group of girls with a beaming grin.

The brown haired girl from earlier smiled, her chocolate eyes sparkling. "I don't know! I'm nervous though." Her rosy cheeks adding another level of cuteness to her overall appearance.

Small bits of chatter danced around the room, introductions being made and clothes being replaced. Each girl, with a sense of nervous excitement coursing through their veins, introduced themselves.

Momo, an insanely beatutiful, young girl with black, silky hair pulled into a ponytail.

Ochako, the cute girl with a permanent blush and short chocolate hair, she seemed nice.

Mina, the pink haired girl who started the conversation. Her skin seemed to match her personality and style, bright and frilly, kinda like a girly Tom-boy.

Tsu, a girl with a cute accent, almost like she had a stuffy nose. Long green hair ending in a bow and intelligent eyes makes her comfortable to be around.

Hagakure, a sweet girly-girly personality wise, but other than that Aiko didn't know how to describe her. Maybe invisible would work? She hoped that wasn't too mean to think.

Aiko listened intently, simply trying to buy time by examining her new gym uniform and shuffling it around in her grip. When it was her turn she rushed with her introduction, stating her name and a little something she likes. Drawing, she chose drawing to be the thing she likes.

"Oh!" Beamed the pink girl, a enthusiastic smile stretching across her lips. "You'll have to show us your drawings!"

Aiko glanced away with her cheeks flushing a rosy red. "Ma-maybe. They aren't anything too impressive though...." her words trailed off into a quiet mumble, before she remembered she actually had to get dressed. "Excuse me, I have to go to the bathroom."

Swiftly, the white-haired girl's exited the conversation, shutting the bathroom stall door just a little too quickly in the process. Taking a deep, shaky breath, Aiko calmed her nerves. As much as she loved making friends, the over ecstatic girls made her a bit uncomfortable.

Though, them being excited about her art made her lightly blush.

~~~

The principle climbed his way into the room, the smaller form of All Might judging a price of paper in his boney hands. A deep set look of thought was etched onto his face, so much so he didn't notice Nezu entering and beginning to brew some tea.

A small ding alerted All Might of the new presence, and with a startled jump he turned to see who it was. The mighty hero sighed and examined the paper. "Aizawa is going to be harsh on the students."

Nezu pored the tea into two cups, took hold of both of them and handed one to Toshinori. "He's always hard on his students, I believe he would be good for your successor."

All Might turned and joined Nezu on the small desk. "He doesn't like me, Nezu, he'll defiantly see too much of me in him."

The principle smiled and took a calming sip of his tea. It was slightly sweet with a hint of mint, warm against his tongue as the steam tickled his nose. He sighed and kicked his legs in the chair. "That could be a good thing, besides I'm sure he will see potential in him much like you did."

All Might leaned forward, letting the steam warm his sunken face. "He expelled his entire class last year."

"That won't happen again, we've told him off for that last year." Nezu commented with a laugh, sighing and carefully handling his tea on his lap.

"But he can still expel someone, right?"

The mouse-like principle lightly chuckled. "Technically."

The two of them halted their current conversation, opting to change the subject on another issue All Might noticed. "You place twenty-one students in each hero course this year, why?"

"The batch of aspiring heroes seemed especially good this year. I wanted to give them all a chance."

"Won't there be some problems?"

"I've already thought ahead, don't worry. We will have the teachers follow the curriculum as usual, but whoever the extra person is, we can have the students who need more training get another chance." Nezu glanced over, taking another long sip of his tea. "Did that make sense?"

Toshinori hummed, his forefinger and thumb holding his chin in thought. "Yes, it does." The mighty hero sighed and stood, thanking his friend for the tea. "I'm pretty sure Aizawa is already testing them."

Nezu laughed. "Probably. It was nice to talk to you again, Toshinori."

"It was nice. I'll see you later, Nezu."

~~~

The entire Class 1-A stood in a field, a shot put field from the looks of it. Aizawa stood in front of them, taking in their forms like he was already deciding to give up on them. 'How optimistic', Aiko thought sarcastically.

He started talking, something along the lines of how U.A. allows independent teaching, and something about quirk prohibitions in society. "Bakugou, how far could you throw in middle school?"

"Sixty-seven meters."

"Great. Now try it with your quirk. Do whatever you need to do, just don't leave the circle." He handed the ash-blond a small ball. "Give it all you've got."

He smirked and mumbled under his breath before throwing the ball with a massive explosion behind it. "DIE!!" The sickening sound echoed through the field.

Air and smoke swept through everyone's hair, Aiko covering her face with her arms and squinting at the bright light. 'Die?' She glanced up at the sky, the ball only being a small spec in the vast ocean of blue. Slowly, it descended back to earth with a trail of smoke tailing behind each weak bounce it made.

Aizawa turned back to the group, his shoulders hunched and relaxed. In his hands, dressed with callouses, was a small device with the illuminated numbers 705.2m on the small screen. "It's important for us to know our limits." He began with a bored tone. "That's the first rational step to figuring it what kind of hero you'll be."

Aiko shivered at the slightly threatening words from the teacher, but everyone else cheered with delight. After all, this is a chance to prove themselves as the future heroes of Japan! To fight villains and save lives! Taking a quick glance at her classmates, she clenched her fists with a confident face.

Yeah, she would stop villains too! She would become a hero!

"'Awesome you say?'", Aizawa repeated, a bit of malice echoing under his disinterest. "Hoping you are going to become heroes after three years here... and you think it'll be all fun and games?"

'Huh?' Aiko's sudden confidence dwindled like a dying candle, and her posture slumped. 'Oh god, whats happening?'

"Right. The one with the lowest score across all eight events will be judged hopeless... and will be expelled."

"E-e-expelled?!" She suddenly yelped, the entire class screaming their disbelief. 'Holy shit! He can't do that?! Can he?!'

"Your fates are in our hands." Aizawa trailed his hand through his messy, black hair. "Welcome, this is the Hero Course at U.A."

'That-that wasn't welcoming.' Aiko worried, hurrying along with the other students to the chopping block. They huddled up like cattle to the slaughter. The first challenge: 50-Meter Dash.

Two at a time, the students dashed as fast as they could, a race to the finish line. Aiko was paired up with a red head with sharp teeth. He grinned at her, a soft smile and a thumbs up. "Do your best." He added, bending down to prepare the sprint.

Aiko bent down too, blowing her loose hair out of her face, and patiently awaited the signal.

The dark haired teacher blew his whistle, and the two students were off! Aiko propelled herself forward, launching her body as fast as possible. The wind brushed past her hair, and she was subconsciously holding her breath with each step. 'A little farther!' She thought, the red-head beside her already past the finish line.

'When did he finish?' Aiko's foot passed the finish line, the camera off to the side blaring her score. "6.56 seconds." '6.56! That's better than middle school!' Suddenly, the red head finishing first didn't seem so bad.

Speaking of which, he was wondering over. A small bit of sweat coated his brow, and his toothy grin beamed brightly. "Good job!" He cheered.

"Th-Thanks, you too." Aiko kindly replied, fixing her gym shirt and taking a few deep breaths.

Next challenge: Grip Strength. She frowned, grip strength would be a tough one to do. Maybe her constant drawing would make her stronger than normal? Or maybe that was wishful thinking.

Yeah, it was wishful thinking, 36 kg wasn't that good.

Third Challenge: Standing Long Jump. Knowing each student could use their quirk, Aiko wondered if there was any way her quirk would be useful.

Fourth Challenge: Side Stepping. This would be an easy one, obviously as she finished almost last. Second to last to be exact, pretty good if she had to say so.

Onto the next challenge: Sit-Ups. Easy, eighty-eight and fourth to finish.

Sixth Challenge: Seated Toe-Touch. Also easy, Aiko stretches every morning before skating to school.

Seventh Challenge: Distance Run. Nope, was one of the last to finish, hopefully this wouldn't ruin her score that badly.

Finally, the Final Challenge: Throwing. Besides the eventful Aizawa vs Broccoli Boy vs Explosive Blond back to Aizawa, Aiko didn't do that good.

The reveal was upon the students, a horrifying set of numbers that would decide someone's fate. Aiko related her own score, if they went by a number system she made up, then she should be okay. If each student was put into the position they ended in, and each student was given the respective amount of points, then the people with the least amount of points would be at the top. Aiko wouldn't be at the top, but she shouldn't be on the bottom either.

There was a small beep, and with a deep breath, Aiko glanced up at the screen Aizawa held. Momo, Todoroki, Bakugou, Iida, etc... Aiko. Aiko Takahashi! In 14th place behind Tsu!

Her shoulders slumped and she let go of a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "I made it!" She quietly exasperated.

Though she paused, immediately being overwhelmed with guilt at whoever was in last place. Midoriya Izuku, that's the green haired boy right? Silver eyes glanced over at the boy, his head hung low. Should she go comfort him?

"Your total scores simply reflect your performance in each of the events. Explaining the process would be a waste of time, so all you get are the final rankings." His tone wasn't any different from before, he must really not care about them. "Also, I was lying about expelling someone."

Another sigh of relief.

"That was a rational deception... meant to bring out the best in all of you." His cheshire grin reeked of mischief.

The students shrieked in disbelief, the shy girl shuffling away from the front of the crowd. "Anyway, were done here." Your documents about the curriculum and such are back in the classroom, give them a look."

~~~

"Oi!" A shriek like yell burst through the comforting conversation of the after school pack up. The surprise made the small girl jump and slam her locker closed. "Aiko right?"

When she turned around, the electric blond from earlier. "Uh, yeah? Um, Kaminari right?"

"Yup!" He pulled over two other figures, a purple haired boy from the bus ride and the red head you raced against. "You know Mineta, and this guy right here is Kirishima." His arm hung over their shoulders, a little awkwardly she would admit, and his thumb pointed to the sharper tooth kid.

"Nice to meet you guys." Small, slightly shaky, hands reentered her locker code. "Uh, I'm glad we all made it? Mr. Aizawa seems pretty... intense?"

"Oh, geez. Tell me about it! I thought I was going to fail!" Kaminari yelped, planting his palm on his forehead. "There wasn't even anything I could use my quirk on!"

Kirishima sighed. "Me too, hardening isn't exactly good for stretching." He joked.

"Hardening? That's your quirk?" Aiko asked, the smaller, purple haired student shuffling from side to side anxiously.

"Yup," He raises his arms and flexed them, the once soft flesh changing into hardened, jagged pieces. Like rock. "It makes it harder to move."

"I can harden too-." Burst Mineta, though he was quickly interrupted by Kaminari.

"I can manipulate electricity, I can't use too much of it though, fries my brain." He swatted his hand in the air. "Hopefully later on I can really show off my skills!"

"Do you want to know what my quirk is?" Aggressively, Mineta tried to butt his way past the other two boys. "My balls-."

"So what's your quirk? I didn't see you use it either."

"Oh, it's called pause." Aiko began, doing her best to unite Mineta. "I can freeze—pause objects in time. It gives me bad headaches though." She tapped her temple and shifted her gaze across from her locker, still grabbing the few things left in there. Across form her, Iida waved goodbye with a small smile. She returned the action before turning back to the boy's. "It wouldn't have helped me."

"So," started Kaminari, but replaced his interest with the skates in her hands. "Oh! You skate?"

"Oh yeah, my transportation." The white haired girl waved them in the air before putting them on. "Sorry, but I have to go. Mr. Takahashi wants me to get some food on the way back home."

"Mr. Takahashi? Your dad?"

"Huh? Oh, yeah... my dad." Aiko realized how weird that might sound, after all she used to say mom and dad. "Anyway, I'll see you guys tomorrow!" She smiled and dashed off and away from the situation. "Bye!"

Her hair brushed past her shoulder, and everything else became a blur. Warm air tickled her nose and played with her school uniform. This was freedom, this was relaxation. No matter what happened, no matter who yelled or hurt her before, skating around the city was always relaxing. Always a way to clear her mind of any worries.

After a day like this, she needed it. After all, Komori and Aizawa scared her beyond believe today. Taking a detour wouldn't end the world.

#aiko takahashi #fanfiction #mha fanfiction #mha oc #my hero academia #mha #bnha #iida tenya #bokugou katsuki #midoriya izuku #komori suzuki #I hate Mineta just sayin

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kingdeku-queentoga · 5 years ago

Text

Garou

OK so I'm back with another character, I want to talk about and why he is my favorite so far in the whole one punch man series, it is garou aka the hero hunter, I know I'm probably just saying stuff that everyone already knows but just in case, I want to get people to see him in a different light, the same way I did with King (hunter x hunter) and Yuga Aoyama (my hero academia). I know I'm late to this but none the less, I still want to do it, also I basing this straight off the anime, not the manga so keep that in mind, thanks.

Garou is first seen calling himself a monster before taking out a room full of villains and 3 hero, single handedly. His second appearance is taking out tank top master and muman rider before taking out tank-top master followers, beating them within a inch of their life, and it was clearly shown how talented and skilled he was in fighting.

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Now I not going to list all his fights, but I'm just trying to prove my point so bare with me for a little bit, thanks

Now I had notice 2 things about him when near the end of the series, the first thing I notice is that even though he had beat a lot of hero's within inches of their lifes, he didn't kill them.

Second thing I noticed is that he don't hurt kid's, in fact he is actually nice to them and willing to protect them so they don't get hurt, and here my proof.

The first kid is the kid with the hero book, tareo

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and next is metal bat little sister, zenko

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zenko, metal bat little sister had stopped the fight between Garou and metal bat, telling garou about their family rule, which garou could of had easily ignored and killed the both of them because metal bat was at his limit but he had left them alone, he had even saved the 2 in secret because a slime monster was about to get them but couldn't because Garou had killed it

When Garou had to fight 7 A-rank hero's, he was desperately trying to protect the barn because the herobook kid was in there, so he did everything in his power to draw the hero's attention away from the barn, he had even blocked all of Death gatling bullets from his "death shower".

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When he was fighting Silver fang and bomb he had a sense that he was actually going to die which trigger flash backs of his childhood, and seeing his childhood had shown why he is the why he is.

As a kid, Garou had figured out that the world was unfair, that the rich and popular would always be able to step on the weak and poor without being punished. On top of that when he was at home watching a super hero cartoon, he didn't cheer for the hero but instead he would cheer for the villain, only for them to lose but he knew the villains was just trying to protect what was important to them, yet none of the other kid's had saw it like that so that had made him more of a outcast.

Even when he tried to stand up for himself because he was tried of being a punching bag for the popular kids, his classmates had took the popular kid side over his, even the principle didn't listen to a single word Garou had to say, so it was clear why he wanted to became a monster, why he wanted to go after heros, he was the embodiment of what happened when the weak get tried and fight back against the world cause they are tried of being abused by the world.

I would of had posted a video of his childhood but I couldn't find his whole childhood, just random clips, so my bad about that

Now I will leave a quote that fit him "why should I apologize for being a monster? Has anyone ever apologize for turning me into one?" ~Juuzou Suzuya

#anime #one punch hero #one punch 2019 #one punch man #one punch season 2 #garou the hero hunter #garou mark of the wolves #garou densetsu #one punch man garou #anime clips #anime video #anime fight #action #quotes

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bruiserelliot · 7 years ago

Conversation

Shamchat wouldn't let me post this, so yeah

This is a conversation between Pidge and yourself, Lance.

Lance: Lance walked into the green lion's hanger, seeing Pidge hunched over a computer, the screen's light reflecting in her glasses."Have you been here all night?"

Pidge: She glanced up at him briefly, then went back to looking at her screen. "Are you surprised?"

Lance: "Not really, but it was a good seg-way for this." He put himself between her and the computer."C'mon Pidge, you haven't been sleeping alot, don't try to deny it, your eyes have more baggage than Keith."

Pidge: Pidge sighed and reached around him for her laptop. "I'm busy, Lance. And I can take care of myself."

Lance: "You're always busy, you always have been busy, and you refuse to take a break." He replied, blocking the way to the laptop."One of these days you're gonna overwork yourself!" He crossed his arms as he finished speaking

Pidge: She stood. "Maybe. And it's none of your fucking business if I do. /Move/."

Lance: "Yes it is!" He retorted."You're my teammate, more importantly, my friend and I don't wanna see you hurt, especially because of yourself." He said. It was one of the most serious things he said to her since Shiro had gone missing.

Pidge: Pidge slowly closed her eyes. She didn't expect him to get it. "Lance, just fuck off."

Lance: Lance narrowed his eyes. He hated himself for what he was about to say, but then again he already hated himself for so many other things, and it was also probably the only way he'd get her to listen."What would your brother say if he knew you were overworking yourself?"

Pidge: She laughed humorlessly. "If I ever see him again, I'll ask him."

Lance: Lance's expression softened."Pidge don't say that." He sighed."Look, you're smart, definitely the smartest person on this ship, you're gonna find your family, but you still need to look after yourself."

Pidge: She put her hands on her hips. "And you need to stay out of it. Now get out."

Lance: Lance matched her pose."Not until you promise me that you'll at least get some sleep tonight." He retaliated.

Pidge: Pidge rolled her eyes. "Sure, Lance. Now leave."

Lance: Lance leaned forward."I'm being serious here for once, that should show just how much everyone's worried about you, they're just all scared of you blowing up at them if they say anything. So, please, promise me, for real this time, or I'll bring Hunk in here and he'll use the puppy dog eyes."

Pidge: Pidge groaned. "Okay, I don't have time for this right now, we'll talk about it later or something, just /move/."

Lance: Lance sighed."Fine..but we are definitely talking later." He told her as he got out of her way. The hunk threat was emptier than the healing pods at the moment, but he had thought she would have stopped fighting at that point. He put his hands in his pockets, glancing at her screen. it was the footage of Matt she'd found at the prison.

Lance: He stalked out of the hanger, closing the door behind him. He turned around, seeing the others hovering outside the door."Well?" Allura pressed. Lance sighed."She said we'd talk about it later. I don't think she meant it though." He frowned. Keith growled."Why is she doing this?" He refrained from punching the wall. Lance looked at him."Well what would you do if you had a lead on Shiro? Probably the same thing. Look, just, I'll talk to her later, she's gonna have to come outta there some time.

Pidge: Pidge went back to reviewing all five seconds of footage she had for the billionth time, the futility of the situation hitting her again. She'd analyzed everything there was to analyze. Twice. Unless she was missing something, there wasn't anything more she could do. It was /hell/. Sure, she knew he was alive, or he had been not long ago, but what then? Maybe he was safe, maybe he was being held captive, maybe the group who broke him out had pumped him for information and killed him. It was impossible to know and she had no way of figuring out where they'd taken him. At least with the Galra, she'd had a vague idea of what he was going through. Meanwhile, she hadn't found anything on her dad at all. The situation was bleak and she was exhausted and they'd lost Shiro and everything was a fucking mess and there was nothing she could do but pore over the same stupid clip over and over again for hours at a time. Lance was right, she'd have to come out some time, but not for a long while.

Lance: ~le magical timeskip to a few hours later~

Lance: Lance sat outside the door, looking at the green headphones in his lap. Back when they had first come, it had been much harder for him to get to sleep since he couldn't listen to his music without headphones. So, Pidge had given him her headphones, saying that since she could get a primary source of information, she wouldn't need them anymore. And god it had helped so much. He wanted to do something like that for her. He didn't want her to feel the way he did. She was too good for that. It's not like he could get her family back, but he did wanna show her that she had another family here on the ship, even if it was a little broken at the moment. He considered knocking on the door, but figured that would just end the same way it had that morning. It would be better to let her come to him.

Pidge: Hours later and Pidge couldn't focus anymore. She also hadn't eaten in... awhile. Oops. Totally exhausted and a little defeated, she decided it was probably time to eat breakfast (lunch? dinner? what time was it?). She yawned, stretched, then finally left Green's hangar.

Lance: Lance jumped as he heard the door open and turned to see Pidge."Uh..hey." He stood up and handed the headphones to her."I figured you might wanna hear Matt in better sound quality." He smiled a little bit, but it dropped a few seconds after."I-I'm sorry about earlier, I was probably just being annoying and that was definitely not a good way to go about trying to help." He rambled.

Pidge: Pidge hadn't really been expecting anyone to be waiting for her and she blinked at him as her brain caught up with the situation, then pressed her headphones back into Lance's hands. "Thanks, but you can't hear him anyway." She started off for the kitchen again. "Don't worry about it."

Lance: Lance smiled a little and put the headphones around his neck and followed her."So, no luck yet?" He asked. He already knew the answer, but if he got her talking maybe she'd consider trying to sleep.

Pidge: She tensed, just slightly. "No."

Lance: Lance frowned, then considerably brightened as he remembered the morning meeting Pidge had missed."Wait a sec, Coran mentioned something earlier about an overtaken galra base, what if he's there?!" He exclaimed.

Pidge: She shook her head. "That wouldn't make any sense. The group that took him was clearly well-organized. You'd have to be a fucking idiot to take over a Galra base and stay there. The Galra wouldn't stand for it, they'd annihilate the place."

Lance: Lance frowned at that."Oh...yeah, you have a point." He sighed as he opened the door to the kitchen, but jumped back as he saw everyone staring at him and Pidge. There was a second or two of silence, then everyone rushed forward, glad that Pidge was finally out of the hanger. Lance sort of stood to the side. He looked at Coran, who was doing the same."You're sure that base is still there?" He hissed. Coran shrugged."Dunno, we haven't received another message yet." Meanwhile, Hunk and Allura were practically Pushing Pidge to the table, while Keith laughed his ass off at their pushiness.

Pidge: Clearly, she'd timed her break incredibly poorly. Lance had been more than enough company on his own. She was /really/ not in the mood to contend with all of them all at once, especially when they were so eager. In truth, it all struck her as a little overdramatic; she'd been working, it wasn't a big deal. But she let herself be herded around and pretended to listen as they spoke, not saying much herself.

Lance: What Pidge probably hadn't realized, was that she'd been working for three days straight. It was hard to tell in space when you didn't have a perfectly timed sun. Lance had just happened to be the first one to notice. Said boy sat down at the table."C'mon guys leave her alone, you guys have done just as worse things before." He said, gladly shoveling in the food goo. Hunk looked at him."Oh yeah, name one time!" Lance swallowed, then looked up."When you slept in the kitchen for a week to figure out a new recipe." Allura laughed at that. Lance looked to her next."When you tried to reverse the gravity of the pool after Pidge changed it for us. It took you 9 hours to quit." He looked to Keith."And this one once spent two days in the simulator at the garrison." He was about to turn to Coran. "Alright alright, save me the embarrassment." The ginger replied.

Pidge: Pidge at her food goo without really tasting it and let the conversation swirl around her without actually joining in. Part of her brain was still back in the hangar, trying to work through anything else she could possibly be doing. Once she'd finished eating, she took care of her dishes and left for the hangar again. Maybe she'd take her laptop and move her base of operations to the lab. As much as she appreciated Green's company, it might've been time for a change in scenery.

Lance: The others watched as the youngest member of their team left. Keith turned to Lance."Does that count as a break to her?" He blinked. Lance shrugged."I guess so. But we'll just have to take what we can get." He stood up, shoving his hands back in his pcokets.

Lance: pockets*

Pidge: Pidge did wind up moving to the lab after all. She settled in and got to work, but only made it a few more hours before she finally passed out. Despite her best attempts, she was still only human.

Lance: Lance walked down the halls, looking for his young friend. He suddenly heard snoring, and followed the sound. When he found her in the lab, he chuckled and shut down her equipment, knowing she'd kill someone if they let it overheat. After that, he picked her up and, since he didn't know where her room was, took her to his room. He put her down on his bed and draped the covers over her. She heavily reminded him of his own little sister back on earth. He laid down on the floor, figuring that if Pidge could sleep sitting up, draped over a desk, he could deal with the floor.

Pidge: ((gotta go, sorry!

#voltron #lance #pidge #matt holt #sad

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onisionhurtspeople · 8 years ago

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so i'm curious, how did you first encounter onision? why do you run this blog, how did you get involved in all this?

wew laddie. You’re asking me a bit of a story. Well, not really, I suppose; but I do have to delve into some personal information here in order to answer this question. So, get ready for a tl;dr.

The very first thing I ever saw or heard of Onision was in, I believe, either late 2011 or early 2012. At the time, he and Shiloh were still together; and, in fact, that’s the only reason why I noticed him. I had pulled up the main screen of YouTube one day when I noticed a picture of Shiloh with some guy, and I did a double-take. I was surprised to see her on YouTube - because you see, at the time, she was an up-and-coming relatively famous singer in my country (Canada), and this was essentially at the height of her popularity and fame. So, my interest was piqued.

Then my eyes roved over to the face of the man sitting next to her in the video, and - I shit you not - the hair on my arms literally stood up on end. I just had the most intense and inexplicable wave of intuitively-driven dislike for him the second that I saw his face. I caught a very strong vibe from his expression and mannerisms that he was a narcissist, or a sociopath, or some type of cluster B disordered personality. I just didn’t have a good feeling about him.The man in the video clip was, of course, Onision.

Out of curiosity to understand why this teenage girl who was famous in my country was sitting next to someone like that, I clicked the video. And started watching. And watching. And watching. By the end of my binge, I didn’t just have a feeling that he was a narcissist; I knew that he was a narcissist.

Now, I have to divulge some personal information about myself if I expect you or anybody else to trust in the validity of my opinion.

I’ve been around cluster B types all of my life. (For reference, ‘cluster B’ refers to ‘cluster B personality disorders’, a classification defined by the DSM-5 as the ‘dramatic personality disorders’, as distinct from cluster A and cluster C. They include borderline personality disorder, histrionic personality disorder, antisocial personality disorder (also known as psychopathy), and narcissistic personality disorder.) My entire family is riddled with them: my mother has narcissistic personality disorder (diagnosed). My stepmother has borderline personality disorder and c-PTSD (diagnosed). My brother, although he has not been diagnosed, scores very high on the Hare Psychopathy Checklist (28/40 - a score of 30/40 is required in the U.S. and Canada for a diagnosis of antisocial personality disorder. In the UK, it’s 25). I grew up learning how to navigate the emotional instability brought on by living in close quarters with narcissists and severely unstable and abusive borderlines*. Needless to say, I possess a bit of a sixth sense for people who are emotionally unstable in that way, and have learned to give them a wide berth when I encounter them.

Now, as to the reason why I decided to start this blog.

I’ve been a long-time lurker in the anti-Onision community - I think about three or four years off and on. I’ve never really been a huge contributor; just kind of read the posts by eoliveson, d0ntstandsoclosetome, and vividoolittle, scoffed, and submitted my opinion here and there.

What changed it for me was when I saw Joy Sparkle BS beginning to make a huge splash on YouTube because of her criticisms of Onision, accruing over 21,000 followers in four months. Now, I know that Joy is a controversial figure in the anti-O community, not least of which because she makes us look a little psycho due to the fact that she has made over 40 videos about him in the span of four months. But when I saw that Onision was so bothered by Joy and Jaclyn that he was willing to debate them live, it ignited something in me. Jaclyn is clearly highly intelligent, versatile, and logical, a talented debater who Onision found it difficult to corner with his manipulative twists of “logic”. Joy’s strengths lie in her positive attitude, her deep intuitive understanding of the way that other people operate, her personal experience and street smarts, and her extraordinary ability to sway people over to her side by presenting her argument in a way that is palatable and easy to understand. However, what I felt was missing with both of these two women’s arguments - although they’ve both done a phenomenal job, in my opinion - were them refuting his claims with cold, hard, undeniable facts that he cannot twist and wiggle his way out from.

As Onision announced on his Twitter that he was willing to debate his followers, I found myself beginning to make lists and lists of points that I wanted to refute, screenshots of Twitter posts, YouTube videos, and credible citations from various organizations to factually counter his claims. I surprised myself with how eager I was to debate with him - even still, to this day, I will occasionally jot down some note or another that I want to confront him about should I ever have the opportunity to debate him.

Of course, I realize that I’m probably never going to have that chance (especially since his ego is still so bruised from his stunning defeat at the hands of Jaclyn), and so I decided that this blog is the next best thing.

At the end of the day, I created this blog not only to offer rational, well-sourced, fact-based refutations of Onision’s claims and behaviors, but to give his victims a voice. Not just the Skyes, the Shilohs, the Laineys and Billies and Haileys and Eryns of the world; but the dozes, hundreds, or perhaps even thousands of people who have been negatively affected by his words. This blog is for all the friendships that have been ruined, all the girls who have hated and judged their bodies because of him, all of the trans kids, the cutters, the abuse victims, the meat eaters, and the bisexuals who have ever felt guilty, “less than”, lost, or loathed themselves because a man who they looked up to told them that their bodies made them disgusting, that their sexualities made them undesirable, that their genders made them invisible, and that their scars and trauma made them unlovable. This blog is for them, and all of the people who will come after.

*Please do not think that I mean to suggest that everybody with BPD or NPD is violent. I don’t think that at all; in fact, my boyfriend has BPD. I am merely describing my personal experience with BPD and NPD sufferers who were abusive, as a means of lending credibility to my observations about Onision’s behavior.

Also, please don’t think that I just go around diagnosing everyone and their mother of having a personality disorder, because nothing could be further from the truth. Apart from the above examples I’ve provided, I have encountered maybe two other people in my entire life who I strongly suspect suffered severely from a personality disorder - one female friend with histrionic personality disorder, and one male.. acquaintance.. with narcissistic personality disorder, who had a hand in nudging my best friend over the edge until she committed suicide. But that’s another story, so we’ll save that bit of unpleasantness for another time.

#onision #anti-o #anti-onision #personal

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