#yeah no sorry I don't give a single fuck about your holidays. Your people kill queers for existing and then want to say THEY'RE oppressed

[justonefeather]

I hate christian holidays being so big in the usa like this shit is a cult + most people use it to excuse their bigotry + for a country supposedly founded on freedom of religion it sure is looked down on to not be christan in some form

#I don't wanna say I have religious trauma bc I'm not the one being forced into religion #But most of my trauma was done to me BY religious people and people who aren't religious but were raised as such and therefore hate LGBTs #yeah no sorry I don't give a single fuck about your holidays. Your people kill queers for existing and then want to say THEY'RE oppressed #The second someone says they're religious I become wary of them. Bc my first thought has to be: are you normal about trans people? #The answer is no at least 75% of the time. This doesn't even touch the rest of the gross shit they believe like pro-forced-birth lol #🪶.exe

[hotchscvm]

love me, hate me - part one

Warnings: swearing, angst if you squint, mild violence

Word count: 3.7k

Summary: Who knew Ransom would get so worked up about a few stolen beers?

Or: In which he's a sucker for you but those were his favorite beers.

He didn't know why he put up with your shit. If you had been anyone else, you'd be working at a dead end job that barely covered your bills instead of walking around the mansion in your brand new Lois Vuitton purse, Jimmy Choo heels that screamed for him to fuck you, and a tight dress he wanted to tear off.

You even had the balls to call him Hugh, a name he specifically reserved for the help. When he informed you, you had rolled your pretty powdered eyes, sneering at him for being an inconsiderate asshole before asking why he wasn't calling himself Hugh due to the massive help sign that was disguised as his cashmere sweater.

Ransom didn't know if he wanted to hurt you or make you his. He preferred the latter but with the way you were pushing him, he wouldn't be surprised with himself if you somehow found yourself in the backseat of his car, tied up and awaiting for him to fuck you senseless. If you had been anyone else, he would ruin your life without hesitation.

He tried to hate you, he really did and usually, it wouldn't be hard for him to hate someone. Most of the time it barely took him a glance for him to decide to loathe the person. But as he tried harder to hate you, forget you, and ignore you, the more you wiggled your way into his every thought. Even then he couldn't hate you. It made part of him want to ditch family gatherings where he knew you would show, being Meg's best friend, and another part of him was exhilarated.

You on the other hand dreaded being dragged into another Thrombey's family gathering where it all ended in arguments and racists comments. The only people you were able to stomach were Harlan, his adorable nurse, Martha, and of course, your best friend Meg. Whenever the conversation began to look like a shouting match, the two of you would sneak away to get high with the maid, Fran.

Ransom was an asshole, a hot, smoldering asshole with enough snarky remarks that would make any sane person hang themselves. You knew he wasn't a fan of yours, which was only good news for you; you hated him, too. The expression "there's a little bit of good in everyone." applied to everyone except him, not that you weren't surprised. Truth to be told, you wouldn't put it past him to kill a family member if they pissed him off enough.

With the number of jabs you made at his expense, you were shocked he hadn't ruined your life yet. Maybe you had a death wish dangling over you, or maybe you just liked pushing him but you made it your little mission to ruin his evening since yours would be the second he stepped in the room.

Meg nudged you with her elbow, leaving a sore spot on your ribs. You gave her a dirty glare, looking up from your Instagram feed. She motioned to the large mansion ahead, the car slowing. "Okay, the plan is to get drunk, but not enough for my drunk relatives to notice and once they're having one of their dumb-ass debates, we sneak off to Fran's room and smoke a few. That sound good?"

Stretching, you nodded, tucking your phone away. "Yeah, that's fine. Remind me how I ended up spending Thanksgiving break with you, again? What did I ever do to deserve such a punishment?"

"You crushed your parent's wishes on becoming a lawyer, instead became an Instagram model, and the holidays with them are too long for you to hear how their daughter could've convicted criminals instead of posting bikini pics," Meg replied, grinning at your sarcastic pout. She stopped the car right beside her mom's. "Come on, it won't be that bad."

"That's what you said last time. Do you not remember how that little reunion ended?" you asked, opening the car door and getting out. The little gravel on the cemented driveway crunched under your new heels, making you grimace.

Meg shut her door, grabbing her purse. She waited at her side of the car and you both walked up to the door. "Actually, I don't. I'm surprised you can especially with all the weed you smoked."

Rolling your eyes, your mind wandered to the man who had killed your buzz. "Your asshole of a cousin ruined my buzz just by opening his mouth. He could be so much hotter if he never utters a single word ever again."

"Please stop talking about Ransom, it's making my lunch come back up." Meg whined, her feet trudging up the steps. Your heels clicked on the wooden porch. "Which reminds me, he kept asking if you were going to be here. Be careful, he might have a little trap to humiliate you in front of my family. If that happens, just knee him in the balls, and we can go to Cabo or something."

You made a face, cringing just thinking of Ransom asking about you, let alone imagining some kind of plan to embarrass you. "Ugh, what a dick. It's time like this that I regret not going back to my crazy family for holidays."

"You'll be fine. Hopefully. Let's go see Harlan." she opened the door, taking off the lush coat draped over her shoulders before placing it on the spacious coat closet by the entrance. She held her hand out for yours and you slid it off handing it over for her to hang up.

Martha greeted you before you could take another step, the Latina smiling at both of you. "I'm so glad both of you are here. The rest came in before you and they've been bickering since."

You both gave her knowing smiles, the loud discussion so heated you could hear it from all the way across the house. Meg sighed, snaking an arm around yours and Martha, pulling you towards Fran's quarters. "Looks like Harlan will have to wait. I'm not going in there sober."

Martha shook her head, slipping her arm out from Meg's grasp. "Sorry, I don't drink and I have to serve them before they get any rowdier. Between the three of us, I'd rather not see another fist brawl this holiday."

You let out a dry chuckle, fixing the hem of your dress. What were you thinking wearing such a tight dress to a party where Richard Drysdale would mentally undress you with his beady eyes. "We'll come with you, now won't we, Meg?"

She groaned, getting pulled by you, her feet dragging on the hard floor. "We're spending Christmas at your parents' house. You can suffer the family drama because I've had it up to here with mine."

"Oh, you big baby." you teased, following Martha to the living room with Meg in tow. You'd think with all the drama she endured from her crazy mother she'd be able to handle a little more from her crazy relatives. "Wanna mess with that racist, whiney troll?"

Meg's lips lifted into a smile. "That's why you're my best friend."

Martha took a turn towards the kitchen instead of the living room, leaving you and Meg to enter the roomful of crazies alone. Some heads turned but not enough to stop the little debate happening.

Jacob sat at the uncomfortable seat in the corner of the room, watching and tapping the screen in front of him, his eyes never tearing from the device. Linda and Donna sat side by side while their husbands had a screaming match with the other. Joni stood by the fireplace, sipping her wine, and occasionally input some random Pinterest inspirational shit. Your eyes landed on the man you thought would take his sweet time arriving.

Hugh Ransom Drysdale sat at his self-proclaimed seat, eating his Biscoff butter cookies, a smirk evident on his face as he watched you walk into the room. He tried to ignore the way his heart raced, blaming it on the cookies and his seven-month dry spell.

You broke free from Meg's arm, pouring yourself a flute full of champagne, swallowing every last drop before making your way to the plush couch, sitting beside your best friend. Your perfume whiffed in the air as you passed Ransom, making him sit up in his chair. You sat close enough for him to reach over and touch you, but he didn't.

Linda gave you the warmest smile she could muster, interrupting the men's argument to greet you. "Hello, darling. Glad you could make it. At least now there's someone in the room with half a brain."

Walt sneered at his sister before giving you a half-hearted smile. "Hey, kid. Your dad still adamant you become a lawyer?"

"Yup," you answered, pulling out your phone, seeing a bunch of notifications from said person. "Why else do you think I let Meg kidnap me, Walt? No offense, but Thanksgiving at the Thrombey's doesn't classify as peaceful or relaxing."

Ransom guffawed, earning glares from his family members. He smirked at you, biting off a piece from his cookies. "Finally, someone who speaks the truth. No wonder she's his favorite."

That subject launched another debate: deciding who was Harlan's favorite. It was no doubt, Martha was but you did come at a close second. Ransom knew, and he didn't want to miss an opportunity to watch his relatives fight. He was a dick that way. He glanced at you, seeing your phone light up as you whispered a secret to Meg. You ignored the phone call, turning over the phone.

While the rest of the family argued, you left Meg's side, getting up from the uncomfortable couch, and walked out of the room. Ransom watched you, licking his lips at the sight of sashaying, hips swaying, and heels clicking. The crotch of his pants grew uncomfortably tight.

Meg watched him watch you with narrowed eyes, suspicious by her cousin's behavior. He may be 33 but he still acted like a teen, and with her best friend pushing him, there was no telling what he'd do. "If you do anything stupid or remotely offensive to her, I'll make sure to send her your head for her next birthday. Maybe she'll have it taxidermied, and hang it up."

Ransom smirked, tossing the last of his cookie in his mouth, chewing as he looked down at his cousin. "That'll only give me a view of a lifetime. My, this college you go to doesn't seem to teach manners does it? Charming as ever, Meg."

She scowled at him, getting up in the middle of the argument. She couldn't stop whatever he was planning if she didn't know what he had in mind but she wasn't going to ruin this holiday for her best friend. Meg followed you to the kitchen, seeing you take a shot glass from Martha. "Drinking already?"

"Don't judge me. Lemme wallow in the warmth and love of the alcohol that your family isn't capable of," you replied, drinking the clear liquid, grimacing as it burned your throat. Martha handed you the chaser, her timid personality making her put a comforting hand on your shoulder. "Thanks, Martha."

Meg took the bottle of vodka, pouring herself a shot before offering it to Martha who had shaken her head. "You sure?"

She nodded, placing the bottle back in its place. "Yeah, I don't need to be drunk when serving those people. It seems like it's even worse out there than before."

"Thank Ransom. That bastard decided to start another fight just by opening his mouth," you said, sipping on a glass of water. Sniffing the room, you smelt the Thanksgiving dinner Martha had to cook by herself. You knew she had to make a special meal for Ransom since he wouldn't dare put the traditional food in his mouth. Too bad, it'd shut him up. "Why is he here, anyway? Isn't he usually the last one to get here?"

"Usually, but he came with Linda and Richard. Don't worry, you're not the only confused." Martha answered. The oven timer beeped and she opened it, taking out the pumpkin pie. She held it out. "What do you guys think?"

"Looks delicious," Meg replied, looking around the room. The sun was setting and soon you would have to face Ransom again, for dinner. "Do you need any help, Martha? We could help you set up the table or something."

"No, it's fine. I have everything taken care of," she said, nearly dropping the big turkey. Meg helped her, carrying it to the counter. Martha smiled sheepishly. "I guess I could use some help. Meg, do you mind stirring the gravy? And [Y/N], would you please place some knives at the table?"

Both you and Meg nodded, helping the poor nurse. Harlan must've let Fran have the day off or else she'd be all over this. Meg grabbed a plastic ladle from the drawers while you took a handful of knives, leaving the kitchen and walking to the dining room. The long table had been filled with plates, glasses, and napkins, the only thing missing was silverwares. Harlan would have to give Martha a raise.

You had just placed the first knife down when Ransom came in the room, leaning against the arch, arms crossed as he took you in. Watching you, he realized he might have a knife kink, only when it comes to you. You raised an eyebrow, waiting for him to make some kind of remark.

When he didn't, you sighed, tossing a knife onto a clothed napkin. "Yes, you pretentious asshole?"

He chuckled, pushing himself off the wood and walking towards you. "Hello to you, too. Why exactly are you doing that? Shouldn't that Mary girl be taking care of everything?"

Oh, the urge to stab a knife in his face--it was almost too much to resist. "It's Martha and unlike you, I'm nice enough to offer help rather than be a lazy prick who no one loves. Karma's gonna bite you in the ass one day, baby."

Ransom snorts, walking up next to you, so close you could feel the heat coming off of him. "You know, my dear cousin mentioned something about some prank she thinks I'm going to pull on you. Do you know what's going on in that stoned brain of hers?"

"Ransom?" you asked, making your way around the large table, placing knives where they belonged. Gritting your teeth into a smile, you turned to him. "I mean this in the best way possible: fuck off."

He would never dare admit it, to himself even, but that hurt him a little. Not enough to break his smug exterior. "Aw, I like you, too, sweetheart. Hurts when you don't admit you do, too. Want some help on the other silverware?"

Your jaw dropped, the knife slipping through your fingers and Ransom caught it quickly. He placed the knife on the empty, designated napkin. "You're fucking with me."

"No, but I sure would like to fuck you." he grinned, the hidden objective twinkling in his eyes. You rolled your eyes, returning back to the kitchen with Ransom following. "Can't a guy help out around here?"

Ransom grabbed your hand before you could push the kitchen door open. He gently led you to the dark, almost hidden hallway beside the dining room. You snatched your hand back, your elbow grazing the wall behind you. "What the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Spending time with my favorite person," Ransom answered, the smirk gone as he backed you to the wall behind you, leaving you no room to escape. Not that you wanted to. His eyes dropped to your lips, only to darken when yours flashed to his. "Why're you so special? Why do you keep invading my thoughts, my dreams, huh? What're you doing to me?"

That made you smile, amused he couldn't stop thinking about your body. You drag your manicured finger down his blue sweater, earning a shaky breath from him. "Glad to know you have wet dreams about me, Hugh. Hmm, what do you get off to, anyway? Degradation? BDSM? Or are you vanilla in bed? With the way you act, it makes me wonder if you even have a dick."

He growled, slamming you into the wall so hard your head made a loud thud. You'd be lying if you said it didn't turn you on a bit. You did like it rough. "Your a guest here, act with respect, [Y/N]. Close that mouth before you say something you'll regret."

"Wouldn't you like it if I used my mouth for something useful?" you breathed, hands resting on his shoulders, pulling him closer to you. His eyes drifted to your lips, tongue darting out to moisten his own. "Yeah, you would."

"What that mouth do, sweetheart?"

You heard the oven timer ding and you smiled, moving your lips to his ear. "Eat."

—

His thigh brushed against yours, a hand "accidentally" landing on your bare thigh, his fingers wrapping around the leg. You flashed him a hard smile before moving your thigh away, almost kicking his wife across the table. You scooted closer to Ransom, hoping to avoid his father's uncomfortable advances. If it wasn't for Linda, you would've stabbed the knife you were holding in his hand.

Apparently, you scooted a bit too close to Ransom for him to raise an eyebrow at you, the hint of a soft grin appearing. You glared at him. "Don't."

Ransom chuckled softly, moving closer, close enough for your shoulders to touch. "Now who likes my company?"

"I do like your company... said no one ever." you snapped, keeping enough distance from Richard's wandering hands. If you could, you would've rip his fingers off, but the Thrombey's were too powerful. Ransom threw you a glance, looking between you and the gap between your chairs. You grit your teeth. "What?"

"I didn't say anything."

You pushed away from the table, frustrated with everything about your situation. Tossing your napkin on your plate, you stood up, catching everyone's eye. "Excuse me."

Meg was in the middle of eating her share of the turkey, looking up with a piece of the skin hanging from her mouth. If you hadn't felt so uncomfortable, you would've laughed. She sat up, tilting her head in question as she covered her mouth. You shook you head, assuring her you'd be fine.

Ransom's eyes followed you as you walked by Harlan, giving him a gentle peck on the cheek and a hug before walking out of the dining room. He didn't think he'd ever be jealous of his grandfather. He waited a few seconds before following you, Meg's narrowed eyes watching him as he walked with purpose—he just didn't know what that was yet.

He heard your door slam before he could take a step up the stairs, leaving him confused on what to do. Ransom knew you would reject his company, not that he would blame you. Yet, he felt a little pang in his chest that he ignored, blaming it on the salty turkey. He'd have to go to the doctor soon, check out what was going on with his heart. It might be something serious like palpitations.

Sighing, he went to the kitchen, grabbing a beer and dragged his feet back to his room, trying to forget about the effect you had on him.

It didn't work.

—

Crawling out of bed, you tiptoed down the hall, careful not make a sound as you made your way downstairs. The stairs were loud and you cringed, hoping everyone was deep asleep. Meg had passed out after smoking Fran's stash, plopping down on her bed in your shared bedroom. She reeked of weed and that hadn't help you sleep at all.

You snuck into the kitchen, the soft counter lights bright in the dark room. Walking over to the fridge, you pulled it open, seeing Ransom's alleged "best" beer right at the front. Rolling your eyes, you grab one, popping the cap off. You took a sip, agreeing with the asshole; it was great beer.

Unfortunately, he chose that right moment to have a midnight snack. The kitchen door opened and Ransom was greeted by the sight of you drinking his beer in your tight tank top and booty shorts. It was enough for him to lose it.

Angrily, he walked up to you, snatching the beer from your hand, some of it dripping on the floor. He held it up in front of you with a sneer on his face. "What the hell do you think you're doing with my beer?"

You flinched when he threw it across the room, the shards sprinkling out on the floor. If his yelling hadn't woken up anyone, that certainly would've. Rolling your eyes, you sighed, crossing your arms. "Don't you mean Harlan's beer? It's not like you bought that beer from your own pocket since you don't do shit."

"Oh, I don't do shit? Unlike you I don't depend on horny men and lesbians for likes in order to keep a roof over my head." he spits, pushing you back against the counter.

"No, you just take money from mommy and daddy." you fired back, amused by his anger. You decided then you had a death wish. Or maybe it was just hot seeing Ransom so riled up. Either way, you weren't complaining.

Ransom growled, hands gripping your waist so tightly you were sure it would leave bruises. "Shut up."

Smirking, you lean towards him, lips hovering his. "Make me."

Before he could kiss you, you shoved him away, took another beer from the fridge and walked away without giving him a second look. Ransom stared after you, gripping the kitchen counter.

This wasn't over.

part two

#chris evans #chris evans fanfiction #chris evans masterlist #chris evans x reader #ransom drysdale #ransom drysdale x reader #knives out #steve rogers #captain america

[a-pretty-nerd]

Chapter 8

Tomura Shigaraki x AllMight!Daughter!Reader

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: 2,214

Warnings: mentions of sexual assault (sexual assault does not occur). 

A/N: 

This took so long for no reason, I am so sorry. I hate the holidays, I’m always so busy and can’t do anything I enjoy and it just drained all my time and energy. I’m so glad it’s over. Anywhoo, I hope ya’ll like this chapter! 

Chapter 7 Chapter 9

You starred up at the ceiling, nodding off into space as your mind wondered. The cracks in the ceiling painting an abstract paining, giving you much to ponder on. You had been thinking about Shigaraki. The man had plagued your thoughts. You knew very little about him and it bothered you.

He subverted every expectation you had about villains. He was ruthless and driven, yes. Crude and dastardly, of course. But the glimpses of kindness he showed you, made your mind spin. Why was he so kind to you? Why was he training you to use your abilities? And why, on God's green earth were you attracted to him?

It made your head spin to think about. About him. His eyes. It was those red eyes. So bright in color and deep in thought. The way he looked at you, like he saw you. When was the last time someone had looked at you that way? Reality would soon sink in after these thoughts. Reminding you that you should fear him, hate him even. That you should be working to get yourself free. But, you hadn't made a single attempt to escape. What was there to escape? You weren't in any immediate danger. In fact, you were being taken care of.

A knock at the door shook you from your train of thought. Without waiting for an answer, the man you knew as Dabi walked in, and closed the door behind you. His glassy blue eyes watched you as he moved. He stood up against the wall adjacent from you, watching you, leering over you. Maybe you were wrong. Maybe, this is where your torture begins. Wordlessly he looked away to pull out a pack of cigarettes, place one to his lips and then look back at you.

"You don't mind, do you?" He asked. You shook your head. He turned away to use his quirk to light the thing and then silently take a few drags as he looked off into the distance. Was he going to rape you? This was the perfect opportunity for him to. You were honestly shocked you hadn't been by now. Normally, kidnapping victims were sexually assaulted in some way. But no one seemed interested, until now.

Would you have to fight him off? Could you fight him off? If you screamed would anyone come to help you? Would he kill you?

"What do you want?" You asked after a few minutes of silence. He looked back at you and raised a brow.

"I just wanted to smoke in piece. It's raining outside." He told you before going back to his smoking. "I do have a question for you though."

"What?"

"You really the big guy's daughter?" He took another drag.

"Yeah. Why?" He shrugged.

"The way you talk about him. Sounds like you don't get along." You shrugged.

"I don't know him enough." Dabi scoffed before finishing his cigarette and stomping it out. He licked his lips and kicked his leg as he shifted his weight. His eyes darting back to the door before looking at you again.

"You ever wanna be a hero?" He chuckled.

"No." Your voice firm and decided. He smiled.

"Why?"

"It's a shit job where I'm from."

"It's a shit job here." He remarked. You nodded.

"I know. Heroes are shit." You shared a few smiles with one another.

"With a quirk like yours, you could really do some damage."

"I know."

"Something tells me this isn't your first time off your meds. It can't be."

"It's not."

"Care to share-"

"No." You barked. The idea of it made your stomach turn and your heart ache. You worked so hard to push that down you weren't about to have that break down in front of a stranger. Dabi raised his brows and threw his hands up in a mocking motion.

"Alright, fine. None of my business." He scoffed.

"What do you want?" You asked again, not satisfied with his previous answer. He sucked on his teeth for a moment before answering.

"Shigaraki asked me to over see your training while he's out."

"He's gone?" You asked softly, maybe a little too softly.

"Afraid so. So it's just you...and me..." He smiled. You held your legs up to your chest and pulled them close. He looked you over and then scoffed. "Don't worry, kid, I'm not that kind of villain. Now get up, I'm your trainer for now and I'm not nearly as forgiving as the boss." He turned and opened the door, waiting for you to follow.

"Do you know why?" You asked as you laid your feet flat on the concrete floor. Dabi looked back at you with an emotionless expression. A face he often wore, it screamed "auto-pilot." Like he wasn't really all there.

"Why what?"

"Why he's training me. I don't understand. Why waist time with a hostage like this? Isn't he worried I couldn't fight back and escape?" You asked. Dabi thought for a moment as he watched you pass through the door and out into the living room.

"What goes through that lunatic's mind is beyond me." He closed the door behind you. "But if I had to take a guess, I'd say he's planning something using your quirk."

"Like what?" He shrugged and walked passed you, turning a corner into what used to be the building's break room, now a make-shift kitchen where temporary supplies were being stored.

"Fuck if I know." He muttered as he went about his business. He opened and rummaged through the fridge before turning back to you. "You hungry?" He asked.

"Um...no." You lied. He starred at you before turning back.

"That's a pity. You need to eat. Keep up your strength. You can't use your quirk properly if you don't have the right fule. Here." He threw a small blurry package at you. The lite weight objected bounced between your hands for a moment before you finally grabbed ahold of it. Instant noodles. Right fule huh?

"This is fule?" You asked.

"What? Were you expecting the fucking food pyramid? Do we look rich to you?"

"No, I just...the way you were talking. Like we were gonna chug raw egg yolks, it's just funny." You smiled. You made yourself the sad excuse for a meal and sat at the small plastic table and ate as Dabi made his own disaster. You watched him. By all accounts, he was a relatively normal guy. It always shocked you, how normal everyone was. How they moved and acted. Not like the villain characters you'd imagined in your head. But just, people.

As he sat down across the table from you, he set down two canned sports drinks, sliding one over to your side without a word. You took it and popped it open before taking a sip. You furrowed your brow.

"Sugar free?" You asked. He looked up at you, as if you had interrupted something important.

"What? Sugars bad for you, makes me bloated." Your smile widened. He relaxed his shoulders and leaned back in his chair. "What the fuck is so funny?" He barked. It only made you laugh.

"I'm it's just...I don't know.."

"Just what?"

"It's just so normal!" You flashed a dazzling smile without even trying. "Everyone here is just so...I don't know, human. Nothing like I expected. They paint this big scary picture on the other side but, everyones just so normal. Even nice at times, yknow?" He brushed you off and went back to eating. "So what's the plan right now?" You asked, picking at your food.

"What?" He asked, annoyed.

"The plan, the big scary villain plan. Now that the plan with me clearly failed. What's the big picture?" Why were you so happy? What's with that smile, those eyes. Dabi looked you over, trying to figure you out.

"Are you serious?"

"Yeah! I wanna know."

"Why?"

"Because." He looked at you like he was waiting for you continue. You starred back blankly.

"Because?"

"Because."

"Oh my god."

"C'mon."

"Eat your food." He ordered.

"Please?"

"Shut up and eat."

"Are you gonna use my quirk to blow up a hero agency?"

"No."

"A military target?"

"A what?"

"Government building?" He rolled his eyes and stomped his foot.

"I don't know! Alright!? I don't know." The room fell silent for a moment. You ate a few more bites before finishing and waiting for him.

"So Shigaraki doesn't share everything with you, I take it?" You interjected.

"No he doesn't."

"So you trust him?" You asked.

"No."

"But you still follow his directions regardless?" You poked.

"Our agendas line up, that's all you need to know."

"Mh, okay. What are your agendas exactly? I have a vague idea of Shigaraki's and Toga's but I don't know yours."

"Why do you care?"

"I...." you thought about it for a little while. "I'm just trying to make sense of it all. Why, things are the way they are." He starred at you for a while. His blue eyes piercing your flesh.

"You already know why."

"Wait? Wait? What do you mean, wait!?" Your mother shouted furiously across the meeting room table. Rows of tables lined with pro-heros watched her out burst.

"I know you're concerned, but with all due respect ma'am-"

"Concerned!? Concerned!? I'm beyond concerned, I am livid! We finally know where my daughter is being held captive and you want to wait!?" She cried.

"Mrs. Please, we understand your concerns and believe me, we're going to get her as soon as we can but we can't just bust in there like last time."

"Last time?" Xavier piped up. "This has happened before?" The heroes looked at one another with a puzzled expression. Your father gave an exhausted sigh.

"A few years ago, a student of mine was kidnapped in an attempt to recruit him. Thankfully we were able to rescue the student, but it cost us. A run-in with All for One, Shigaraki's old mentor, nearly killed Best Jeanist, and led to my retirement. Since then, Shigaraki and his followers have become much more of a threat. We can't risk starting an all out battle again. They've positioned themselves in a very populated area. If we aren't careful, Shigaraki alone could decimate everyone and everything. We have to be careful about this." He explained.

"This isn't just about Y/N's safety anymore. We have to find a way to get her out of there without endangering the city around her." Eraserhead noted, looking down at the papers he held in had hands.

"If that's the case, shouldn't we be sending in heroes who specialize in stelth? If we can get her out there without anyone noticing, we won't have to fight. That way, we have time to evacuate everybody in case of an all out fight." A young voice suggested.

"I could see how that would be effective, Deku. But in order to pull off a mission like that we'd need more information. At this rate, even a stealth mission would be a rash discussion." Bubble Girl stood to attention at the projection on the screen.

"What about the girl herself? She didn't say anything about their numbers or the hideout itself?" DynaMight asked, his brows furred, eyes starring off into space in thought.

"Unfortunate no, and theres no way to contact her further at the moment. It's too dangerous." Eraserhead answered.

"Ugh, Heroes. Useless." Xavier spat, throwing himself from his seat and storming out of the room. Toshinari watched him and then turned back to your mother who sat there with her head hung low. Her dainty fingers shoving tears away from her face.

"This is all your fault." She muttered before standing and following Xavier out of the room. Your father sat there, frozen, unable to process or move or speak. She was right. It was his fault, he thought. If only he had asked you to stay that night. If only he took better care of you, if only he spent more time with you, if only, if only, if...only...

"Um, uh...meeting adjourned. You're dismissed." Your father shuffled out into the hallway, his head hanging low.

"Um...A-All Might?" A soft voice spoke. He slowly turned to find young midoriya standing there. His eyes sparkling as they always did. They never lost their sparkle, after all he'd been through.

"Young Midoriya..."

"...I...I never knew you had a daughter..."

"You weren't supposed to. No one was." He answered with a blank and flat tone.

"Right. Of course. I just...well...she doesn't have..."

"No. One for All isn't genetic so it's not passed on to a user's children. Why? Are you worried that Shigaraki might still be after it?" Deku nodded. Toshinori sighed and looked off in the distance. "You heard the phone call. She seemed fine...she even laughed. I haven't heard her laugh since..." he trailed off. Since she was a child. He hadn't heard you laugh since you were little. The revelation tugged at his weakened heart, shattering it to pieces.

"Sir?" Deku asked.

"Promise me something young Midoriya."

"What is it?"

"The world needs dedicated and strong heroes," Deku looked up at him with a determined furrowed brow, "but don't let it rule your world."

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