***(Y/N) POV***

My head felt like it had been beaten in by a golf club.

I had been conscious for a fair amount of time, but opening my eyes just seemed like too much effort. The last thing I could remember was some creepy black haired man standing in front of me, then I had woken up wherever I was now.

"Oi, kid..." I involuntarily flinched as a coarse voice broke through my thoughts. "I know you're awake. They do, too..." It was vaguely familiar, and that was the only reason I decided to open my eyes. A bruised pair of ankles were the first things I focused on, telling me that I was just sprawled on the floor. Forcing myself to venture my gaze upwards, I found a little more energy once I realised who had addressed me.

"Y..You're Giran..!" I gasped, pointing out the obvious beflre taking notice of his bloodied hand. At least, that was what it used to be. "Oh my crap, what did they do to you?!" My head spun when I sat abruptly, using the broker's knee as support. It was then that I became aware of the chain around my wrist.
"Just some old fashioned torture. I didn't think they'd take another ho-"
"So glad to see that you're finally awake!"

Flinching, I slowly turned to see who addressed me, irking when my hazy sights fell upon a very sketchy looking man with spikey orange hair. My eyes gravitated to the two dark moles on the left side of his forehead, and quickly decided that the guy was more than just a little bit of bad news. Not simply because of his blemishes, but because he was no doubt the one who had subjected Giran to such horrible things.

"L..look, whoever you are...I don't think you should go getting all cocky...The League will-"
"Rescue you? Sweetums, what's a measly gaggle of seven going to do against thousands?" The man gave me a closed-eyed smile, and I felt myself blanch. He rattled on for the longest time about who he was, what he stood for, and I honestly believed I was going to throw up. Their views I could understand, to a degree, but the fact they wanted to kill the league; my family, was too much to process.

This is...bad...

"I have nothing against you, though, little (L/N) (F/N). You're young. Impressionable. How were you to know an option such as us existed? Your face has been all over the news, you know? The poor, sweet animal heroine, who was brainwashed by the bad guys. I thought maybe you would join us? It would be much more comfortable than moping around in shackles." The Re-Destro guy motioned to the steel around my wrist, and my temper began to bubble.

"Like hell, Needlenose!" I had intended to activate my quirk so I could escape, but nothing happened. My (E/C) eyes grew wider once I figured it out, but the pointy-schnozzed maniac still felt the need to give me an explanation.
"Quirk restraints, sweetums. As long as you're wearing that, you're nothing but a quirkless little nobody. Pity, you would have been a nice addition." Waving me off with a limp wrist, he turned away and began to walk off, his sword of a nose sticking in the air. "It won't be long now until they arrive, so be patient. You'll have quite the view of the show from up here. Geten, keep an eye on them."

Somebody in what appeared to be an eskimo parka shuffled out from the shadows, bowing their head in understanding. Once Re-Destro had left, I ignored the hooded figure and turned my attention back to Giran.
"I'm so sorry...If we'd have known..." All I could do was stare at the bloodied stumps on his hand, praying that there would be no infection.

"Nah, not your fault, kid. You lot've been busy. How's it going, by the way?" Pain was evident in his voice, but he was trying to act unphased. Shrugging, I shifted, bringing my knees up to my chest.
"Hard to say. Not bad, but definitely not the best..." I revealed, hyper aware of that Geten person pottering around elsewhere in the room. "That's the least of our worries, though..."

Giran nodded, trying to wet his parched lips with a dry tongue.
"Yeah, we're pretty screwed. Fuck knows which heroes they have tucked under their belts..." My teeth began to grind together as my anxiety built itself up, thinking of Dabi. Of Tomura, Mustard, and the others. Therr was no way everyone would come out in one piece if Re-Destro hadn't been bluffing.

"That guy's nose is dangerous...He could've poked an eye out..." I mumbled, resting my chin on the broker's knee. Of course, I was terrified, but I had to remain calm. Panicking wouldn't do anyone any good. A loud clang made both of us flinch, and I stared at the metal bowl a foot or so away before looking up into the eerie black of Geten's shadowed face.

"Water." His voice was low and monotone, but I could tell he was ticked off. Cautiously, I stretched my leg out, using my foot to drag the bowl towards us instead of crawling forward. Once I looked into it, I deadpanned, shoulders sinking ever further.

He...froze it...

As I tapped at the icy surface, Geten released a short, bland laugh, turning away to linger by the doorway. He had obviously heard what I had to say about Re-Destro. Either that, or he was just a rude person in general. It wouldn't have surprised me. Sighing, I began to scratch at the icy slick inside the bowl, gathering frosty slush against the rim.
"Here. This should keep you going until it defrosts..." I took some in my palm, holding it up to Giran's lips. He looked a little sceptical at first, but eventually opened his mouth, allowing me to tip it in.

"Thanks, kid. You ain't so bad." He thanked me with a weakened smile, and then we fell into an age of silence. We both knew that whatever would transpire over the next day or so could very well spell the end of the League of Villains. Even if they hadn't been run ragged by Gigantomachia, they still didn't stand much of a chance against such numbers. I feared for Mustard, who could barely hold his own in a fight. I feared for Shigaraki, who had been working harder than all of us combined.

But most of all, I feared for Dabi. Despite being an excellent liar, I knew he was struggling. He had to be stupid to think I hadn't noticed the burns on his skin worsening - growing - or the way his hands shook when hanging idly by his sides. The man wasn't built for prolonged fighting, and that scared me.

The Liberation Army had heroes. They had experienced fighters up the wazoo. We had a gang of misfits. Re-Destro hadn't been wrong about that. We would be going in blind, but they knew everything about us. Our strengths, our weaknesses, and god only knew what else. Giran's hand was proof that they weren't messing around. He wasn't even an actual member of the league, so what were they preparing to do to us?

I can't lose anyone else...Big Sis Magne was already too much...

For a fleeting moment, I found myself wishing I had never gotten caught up in everything. If I had never been nosey and stuck my head into that playground cubby, then I probably would have been back home, binge watching some sappy slice of life anime, shovelling (F/snack) into my face.

No.

That wasn't the life that was written for me. Dabi was my life. Shigaraki was my life. Mustard, Toga, Twice, Spinner, Mr. Compress and Giran were my life. The League of Villains was where I was meant to be. That was the path laid out before I had even come to exist. Even if I wasn't a little scrambled in the head, that wouldn't have changed my thoughts on the matter. I was (L/N) (F/N), aged eighteen, member of the League of Villains and wanted criminal.

That was exactly where I needed to be.

"Hey...Giran..?" I called out softly to the man, and he lifted his head slightly.
"Mmm?" Even his hum was broken, and I hated it. Everything apart from his spirit had been crushed.
"Do you...think we stand a chance..?" He didn't respond immediately, and that told me all I needed to know.

"Honestly..? I doubt it." He sighed, breath crackling like scrunched up paper. "We're tough, but we ain't one hundred and sixteen thousand five hundred and sixteen level tough. If I were you, kid...I'd start mourning early..." I knew he was right. Even if they barely managed to scrape through, there was no way casualties wouldn't be suffered. I didn't want to imagine it, but there it was in my mind. Their pale, gored faces. More crimson than any other colour, dripping and pooling upon the earth.

Please, Dabi...Tomura...Hisoka...Guys, don't come for us...Please, just leave us behind...

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***Me, early manga: There's not a single character I hate!

Me, reaching this arc: Fuckin needle nosed prick faced liver spotted lanky ass cocky shitheaded BITCH

Also Giran is papi don't @ me.

Next Time: Front row seat***