Try Me, Bitch |BnHA| |Reader Insert|

Y/n: Move

"Miss Author," a woman said from the shadows of the back alleyway like all cliche villains.
Author stopped and looked behind her, seeing the backlit person.

"Miss Fortune," she greeted back, "Why are you here?"

"Your wanted poster is all over the media. 'Alive or dead', it said." The woman walked out from the streetlight and into the moonlight.

"You are in no better position," Author shot back, "I'll ask again. Why are you here?"

"It seems as though you've grown closer to my daughter. Uncomfortably so."

"And? What does that have to do with you?" Author turned her whole body. "You left her years ago. Why is she of your concern?"

"She is still my daughter and my right," Kamiko said.

"You are a criminal, like me," Author emphasized, "We have no rights. Not as people, not as citizens, and sure as hell not as parents."

"My husband died!" Kamiko stomped up to Author, getting all up in her grill. "You dare tell me how I should react? We all can't be cold-hearted sociopaths like you."

"You dare tell me the appropriate response was to go kill dozens of people, abandon your kid, join in the same league as villains, then vow to kill any heroes that stand in your way?" Author retorted, lifting her chin.

"I did it for my husband."

"No, you became the exact kind of person who killed your husband."
With an angry snap of her fingers, half of the universe was wiped out. Perfectly balanced, like all things should be. (Sorry I'm IW trash.)
A cheetah and a leopard appeared by her side.

"It would be wise to watch your tongue, Author Red," she hissed, "It would be a shame to kill off a very powerful quirk."

"And it would be a shame if you suddenly could no longer use yours."

The back alleyway flashed bright green before a scream.

~
You stayed close to the shadows, hugging the alleys like a lifeline. You were a dumbass, but not a dumbass dumbassy enough to get yourself killed.

"Where are you going, Doll?" A voice called out from behind you.

"Trying to find the nearest drug dealer."

"What are you exactly?" He asked. You stopped walking.

"What's that mean?" You turn your head to see the burnt eggplant-onion hybrid love child.

"You aren't a hero, but you don't seem like a villain either. What's your plan?"

"My plan is survive as long as I can free from the authority's grasp," you replied, "If that means bouncing from place to place like porn stars in an orgy, then so be it." He seemed mildly amused by your analogy, but you couldn't tell.

"So you're just fooling around then?" Dabi asked cautiously.

"This ain't a one night stand, Nipple Boy," you said, "Don't take it personally. So long as it doesn't affect you, you shouldn't have any problems."

"I have problems when people don't solely stay within one spot."

"Sapnu puas."

"... this is a verbal conversation, how did—"

"See you later, Nipple Boy, I'll remember you in therapy." You waved over your shoulder, beginning to walk away from him. A flash of heat is all you got as a warning. Blue flared up in your vision, and you barely managed to dodge it. Your arm got badly burned from the flames.