Version A, Too | Boku No Hero Academia Reader Insert

XX: Armageddon

tw: canon level violence

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"You're finally awake." 

(M/N) is met with uncomfortably bright LED lights when she stirs, a pitiful comparison to her usual greeting -- a kiss from her husband at dawn, or the sight of the familiar windowsill that sits in front of her at-home office. She groans and tries to blink away the nuisance of such horrid illumination, but to no avail. Attempting to block the light with a hand, she's initially shocked to find that there is something, a rope, perhaps, restraining her from doing so.

She moves to examine her surroundings, but when she does, she almost doubles over at a prominent pain that jolts through her arm and strikes her heart, immediately pulling her from a drowsy state by drawing out a sharp gasp from her feeble chest. There is a chronic pounding in her head that worsens as she coughs when regaining her control of herself, her throat aflame and dehydrated, her lungs dry and unnaturally elastic. It was a miracle that she was event conscious, but due to the sporadic adrenaline spike, (M/N) was active for the time being.

Her head turns when she hears a voice speak from her side, distracting her from focusing in on her current state.

"I feel like I'm experiencing some kind of deja vu... the apple doesn't fall too far from the tree, does it?" Her eyes widen as a figure steps forth from the shadows.

"You-" (M/N) breathes, feeling her heart close with white anger, "You-!" Shigaraki laughs, slightly throwing his head back as he does so, arms wrapped around his stomach as he delights in the incredulous expression cast across his victim's face.

"Yes! Me!" he exclaims mockingly, "Oh, I bet you never even guessed that we'd be behind this, did you? Because of all the safety precautions the heroes took? How naive." (M/N) narrows her eyes and glares at the blue-haired male, trying not to let her wince show because she knows the moment she even suggests weakness it'll all be over. So she puts on a brave faces and leers at Tomura with a flushed face and furrowed brows, and a forehead that is completely drenched in sweat. 

"What the hell do you want from me?" (M/N) demands, "Compensation? Am I some kind of lure to here? Do you really think heroes will come?" The villain first looks surprised, then entertained when inquired about such subjects -- almost jesting in the fact that the older woman was so defensive and deflecting.

"Unexpectedly, you stole the words right out of my mouth." Shigaraki smiles warmly, then shakes his head. "But no, I don't think heroes will come. You shouldn't either." He starts to pace in front of his captive with a cocked head swaying from side to side. When he reaches a spot directly in front of her, he stops, then turns to face the female bound by tight restraints. 

"Do you know why I brought you here?" (M/N) scoffs at his question.

"What, so you can kill me? Lure heroes here? Get closer to my family?" Shigaraki can't help but start to laugh at the woman's response, finding hilarity in the simplicity of her replies.

"Ah, such worldly thoughts. As expected from you," he chuckles, a hand floating above his mouth, " But no. Instead, I was thinking I might be a little gracious and host a nice get-together." Shigaraki hums and grins as (M/N)'s face pales and he beckons forward a familiar face.

"Come meet your senior, Nakamura." Subsequently, Shioto emerges from the darkness with a bowed head and hands tightly clasped in front of her. Her figure is rigid, stiff, tense, forcibly commanded and unwillingly controlled. Her behavior is so unordinary, so pitiful (M/N) almost feels sorry even looking at her.

All that emotion is gone, however, when the brunette slides close enough to Shigaraki so that he is in his captive's field of vision once more.

"I can't believe you." There is no room for anything else but disappointment in (M/N)'s voice. Shioto seems to notice, and flinches at the frost-laden tone her senior now speaks to her with. She fumbles with her thumbs as her shoulders quiver, trembling under the invisible mass of the world, the burden of guilt and shame weighing heavily upon her back.