Y/n: Evil

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WARNING⚠️: PLOT TWISTS AND MAJOR FEELS FROM HERE ON OUT!! IF YOU'RE A LITTLE BITCH, YOU WON'T BE ABLE TO HANDLE THE GUT-WRENCHING, MIND TWISTING, FEELING SNATCHING CHAPTERS!1!1!1!

~
You were home. Back with Author in your apartment. She managed to convince—manipulate—the hospital to let you stay home during your rehabilitation. That's not all.
A metal bracelet was clasped around your arm. It was designed to keep you from using your quirk without the police's permission. You didn't mind that. It was only for two months, after all.

"Watcha feelin' for breakfast?" Author asked, opening the fridge.

"Whatever's in there," you replied.

"I have an egg."

"An egg?"

"Yes. One."

"Dude you need to get paid more."

"You're telling me."

"Uh, sure, I'll have it," you said.

"Scrambled, hard boiled, or fertilized?"

"Ooh, fertilized."

"Coming right up."

"Yeah, we know."

You looked down at your phone when a book on the seat across from you drew your attention.

"Is that yours?" You asked.

"Yep," she replied, "I can't have it hidden for too long, otherwise is will permanently disappear."

"Doesn't that make it vulnerable?"

"Nope. As long as I'm around it, I have absolute ownership over it. It dies with me."

"I see," you said, looking at your phone when it vibrated. "Shit, I gotta go."

"Why?" Author asked.

"I'm meeting with Tsukauchi to confirm what I'm going to do with my life here on out." You stood up. "Save my egg for later, please." You waved to her before bounding over to the door.

"Don't kill anyone!" She called.

"If they don't give me a reason to, I won't!" The door clicked shut behind you. Author sighed and turned, placing the cooked egg in a container before putting it in the fridge.

"So this is the book I've been hearing about."
Author whirled around to see Megumi occupying the chair you sat in. The leather bound book was held in her hand.

"How did you get in here?" Author asked. Megumi smiled.

"You gotta put screens in your windows, or something." Her eyes traveled to the book. "Also, you forget to mention something in your little explanation." Megumi held the book tighter in her grasp.

"If someone that is not the owner takes the book, you have to physically retrieve it. Why? Because your quirk relies on this book. No book, no quirk." The smile she gave was wicked. The bad kind. Author's eyes travelled to her neck. There was a small scar. An incision.

"What do you want, Megumi?" Author asked, her shoulders dropping to calm herself.

"You are a huge liability to Kamiko's plan," she said, "Not to mention, you took away her quirk." Megumi raised her other hand. Author took a step forward, but when Megumi's hand turned into a blade, she stopped short.

"One little hole is all I need to... end you, right?" She softly pressed the tip of the blade into the front cover. Author fell against the counter, holding herself up with nothing but sheer force.

"Oh dear," Megumi said, "Just a little poke and it does that?" Smile widening, she made a small cut in the front cover. Author collapsed to the tiled floor, hand gripping her chest. Despite that, the deep glare never left her face.

"Ooh," Megumi said, standing up, "This is going to be fun."

~
"Well, Miss L/n, if you haven't gotten into any trouble in the next two months, then I can allow you to go back to your studies," Tsukauchi said from across you.

"So I can't kill anyone?"

"Unfortunately no."

"No drugs?"

"No."

"Dammit."

"It was nice seeing you, Miss L/n," he said, getting up from his seat.

"Yeah, yeah, you too, Titty Nipple."

You walked out of the police station, fiddling around with your medal bracelet.

'Stupid quirk detector—drop dead.' You arrived at the apartment building and walked in. As you were passing the elevators, one of the doors dinged open. A woman walked past you, dressed in a red hoodie. You looked at her as she walked away.

'Hm. Author has a hoodie like that.' You walked into the elevator. When you got to your floor, you skipped to your door, sliding the card past the lock. It flashed green and you entered your apartment.

"Hey, Author!" You called, "I didn't kill anyone. You proud of me?" You walked into the living room. It's oddly quiet.

"Author?" You looked around. "Huh... maybe she's on a mission." Normally she would tell you.
You walked into the small bathroom to take a piss, but stopped dead. Lying in the middle of the room was a piece of paper.
Slowly, you knelt to pick it up, examining it.

'Weird.' You thought.

'Author hates it when a paper tears out of her notebooks... wait...'
With a horrifying realization, you ran out into the main floor.

"Author! Author!" You ran into the kitchen. Author's notebook was lying on the table, pages torn and front cover slashed to shreds. Slowly, you walked up to it, reaching out your hand and running it over the book. It felt like flesh. The clean cuts aligned perfectly with each other. Like a knife to skin.
You caught something out of the corner of your eye. Slowly—carefully, you tread around the table.
Red was what you saw first. It was a pool. Dying the tips of her black hair into the color she always wanted.

With a loud gasp, you went stumbling backwards, colliding into the wall behind you. You didn't feel the impact. Eyes trained on her, you didn't realize you stopped breathing until your burning lungs begged for a breath. With a slow inhale, you had some semblance of control over your body.
You got to your knees, crawling towards her like an infant would to their parent.

"Author..." You called weakly, grabbing her body. "Author please..." You slowly turn her head to face you. Her eyes were open. Staring, but lifeless. Wide, but empty.

"Please, don't do this to me..." Her blood soaked through your pants. Warm. She just died—or was killed.
You took her into your arms, still refusing to close her eyes.

"Don't–don't do this to me," you croaked, feeling the hole in her chest where her heart should be. "Don't leave me, I can't..."
Your tears mixed with blood, trailing down her chin.

"I can't do this without you, please..." Hands that held you up when you couldn't stand now laid motionless next to her, tips beginning to cool.

Sirens sounded from outside your apartment, but you didn't notice.
Pressing your head against her chest, you were hoping—praying—you would hear a heartbeat.

Silence.

"Miss L/n? Miss L/n, are you alright?"

"No..." You whispered, "... I'm not."






Ja ne!

{Ruby Red}

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