Quirks - A strange word that was a relic of the past, something not heard in decades. There were fleeting lessons in history of the great heroes who once protected society, and even regular, everyday people having some mind of miraculous ability that put them apart from others. They had been common, a uniqueness that everyone, ironically, shared. But years after the continuous breeding of quirk-wielding people, they all meshed into a glob of insanity, mixed powers and abilities that seemed to only get worse as time continued on. Quirks created monsters, horrible beasts who only caused destruction and chaos and they suddenly became feared.
However, much like they randomly sprouted into the world long ago, quirks had suddenly started dying off for unknown reasons. Populations of what used to be countless quirk users slowly decreased until after several long years, the number had decreased down to zero. Quirkless became the new norm and quirks, they were unheard of. Scientists claimed that because of so much mixed breeding and overpopulation of quirk genetics, something triggered quirklessness to protect the body from what it couldn't handle.
Deku and All Might - both names became a whisper of a memory, fading in the night. A hopeful dream that one could only clutch to their chest, squeezing their eyes shut and imagining them coming back. But that, that was a different time, that not even scientists could recreate. No, the only proof of their existence would be old broadcasts, memorabilia, and giant chipping statues among the ruins of what was UA. Now, those were preservation sites, a tourist attraction to a time where hope ran rampant, only to be looked on by bored teenagers and children begging their parents to go get ice cream just across the street.
Quirks were dead and that's how it should've been in the eyes of the new generation.
Until suddenly they weren't.
In comes, UA, the ancient hero school from history reopened in the form of a government quirk facility for surveillance and experimentation of quirk-users for the next twenty years. Though, after around thirty to forty years the slow increase of quirk-users now makes up around 20% of society and UA decides to break protocol to train future heroes to reintroduce into society, in hopes to form an accepted place in the world for quirk-users.
Years after Izuku's generation, after mixed breeding and overpopulation of quirk genetics mutating humanity, quirks faded into memories of the past. Quirks were dead and that's how it should've been in the eyes of the new generation. Until suddenly quirks sprouted into the world anew. Now, the quirk wielders are the outsiders, a strange concept of society that was once seen as the dominant species that a new quirkless world doesn't know how to cope with. With the reemerging of quirks comes a whole new generation of the 20 percent quirkusers figuring out just how to manage in a dangerous society. Just when the world starts to lose hope, in comes the newly reformed facility/ward for the quirkusers, UA.
A/N: Did someone call for an insanely vague prologue? Because here it is haha! I wanted a bit of mystery, so I went for the shorter, more vague version of an intro just to get the ball rolling and to give you all a little taste of what's to come. I do like to write very long and detailed, so this was kind of a new challenge for me with toning it down to an acceptable vague level, but this won't happen again most likely, and our next chapters will be very long and chock-full of description and detail!
Thank you to everyone who has shown interest in this story. It really means a lot for the support! I hope you will all consider submitting a character to this crazy story. I have posted all forms/applications to my profile, so go copy/paste those if you'd like to submit a character.
Much love!
Disclaimer: I do not own MHA, but if I did, you guys would be the first to know. ;D
Rating/Warnings: Language, mentions of death, angst, destruction, canon violence, adult themes, and gore.
Intro - Chapter 0
Year 3210
Tokyo, Japan
Glass was everywhere, like a broken montage coloring, otherwise what was a pristine living room in whites, creams, and black. Sharp shards glittering a translucent whitish blue, scattering the beige carpet and reflecting thousands of images of the tiny girl in front of him. The glass, he thought, could almost be beautiful if it wasn't filled with the crying, chubby-cheeked face and wide-eyed expression that stared hauntingly back at him, almost as if the images were trapping him - accusing him and he felt his breath hitch.
My daughter, my little girl.
"Now Iku, don't cry! Everything will be okay, I-i promise-" the man stammered out between a tight-lipped smile that did nothing to meet his wide eyes as he stumbled back like a drunkard. Feet tangling over themselves in an attempted to put as much space between him and the girl in the middle of disarray. Wow, how pathetic, he mused with a bitter grimace, I can't even bring myself to lie, huh? Too afraid? Nothing he said would even matter. It was inevitable, the situation was entirely out of his control, and even a child was aware of that.
Parents were supposed to be all knowing, right? At least, that's what he had always heard. They guided you when you needed help and always seemed to know exactly what to do in any given moment, but damn, that wasn't true in the slightest.
The chubby-cheeked child in front of him wailed louder than the cars honking in the streets outside, her voice striking in pitch that could shatter glass, that ironically, was the issue... Doe-like brown eyes met his own, giant saucers of panic and confusion, fear wavering through them as large pools of tears leaked in an endless stream down her tanned cheeks. Her small form shook, racking with sobs and fear and he hated himself for the awful thoughts that pitted him, the debate in his mind that shouldn't have been there, but he couldn't decide whether he wanted to comfort her or sprint away…
His head pounded from all of the screaming noise, too much sound echoing around him and stabbing his eardrums, causing his skull to feel as if it was about to explode and honestly, at this point he wouldn't have been surprised if that happened. For he truly didn't know what to believe anymore. Humans couldn't belt such notes while wailing. It was nearly impossible for even an opera singer to even get to such pitches without years upon years of training and practically straining their vocal cords. But low and behold, he breathed in awe, here was his little girl.
"Daddy…" Iku hollered, a broken plea as cracked as the shards surrounding her and a pang of distress and despair struck his heart at the tone. Damn, she sounded so lost, so afraid - voice shaking like a leaf in the wind and the lanky man slowly felt his guard crumbling in. This was his baby girl, his child, and he didn't want to see such things happen to her. Of course, he would do anything to take away her pain -
Suddenly a crackling noise ripped through the brunette's cries, and his gaze immediately flew to the large, flat screen across the room and 'Fuck, no, not the tv!' He held in the curses that threatened to leave his lips as his heart dropped to his stomach, eyes zoned in on the source of the sounds just to helplessly witness their new tv screen suddenly spiderweb. Small cracks covering the surface like a snowstorm before completely shattering all at once, the sound sharp and piercing through his ears and he ducked down as more glass flew through the air, barely missing the child before trickling to the ground.
"Shit!" He screamed, jumping back behind the couch just in time before his wife's grandmother's china cabinet's glass screens could slice through his head. Slowly, like a symphony of noisy violence and white noise, the rest of the glass crashed down in a moments notice just as the little girl's wailing seemed only to escalate. Frantically, he waved his hands around, trying to placate the child before she could break anything else.
"Nonono, no, no! Don't cry! Just let daddy figure it out okay? Just..just calm down, dd-don't worry!" His voice shook even to his own ears, and he mentally cursed before trying to dodge what had been the glass-covered cabinets behind him as they literally shattered to the marble tiles all at once, the sound making his eardrums throb and thunder. The cabinets smashed to the ground in disarray, the newly remodeled kitchen resembling more of a warzone than the elegant, clean slate lines were before.
What could he do? What did you do when your daughter's sudden crying makes everything in their house explode?! This wasn't in the parenting manual, and he was fairly certain not common at all among any human being he knew. He felt so out of place, so numb to his surroundings as if it wasn't even happening. This had to be a bad dream, a nightmare he'd wake up from and tell his wife about, laughing as they watched their angel of a child play with her dolls with a gentle smile on her face.
Yeah, he thought, this was just a really bad dream.
"Daddy! What's wrong with me?" Iku screeched in horror and his heart nearly stopped at the sheer amount of fear in her voice.
Fear at herself.
Fear he felt too well, directed to his child.
'What is wrong with you?' He wondered.
This couldn't be normal, this just wasn't possible! Nothing about this held logic of any sort, no reasonable explanation for why his six-year-old could suddenly belt cries that shattered glass. This just wasn't possible. But here she was, doing it right in front of his eyes. His ears were bleeding from his eardrums being busted over an hour ago, red trickling down and trailing from his neck to the white of his shirt, staining it in the deep dreaded color of reality.
He felt bad, a sick feeling rising in his stomach at the actual terror he felt towards his own child. This wasn't right… no one was supposed to fear their kid. But the sweet little sunshine with her silky brown hair pulled into stringy pigtails on either side of her skull, the blue sundress that came to her knobby knees and the cute freckle on her cheek suddenly became a monster. Someone he couldn't recognize at all and felt the strong urge to run away from, to sprint to the master bedroom and hide under the bed, holding his hands over his ears and squeezing his eyes shut until she went away… but this, this was his child. This thing was his daughter.
You never know how you're going to die. Sometimes people ponder on the thought, maybe have some strange idea that they'll be able to figure it out before it happens. Though, everyone wants to die in a painless way - or maybe by being a hero, doing something so amazing and honorable that people remember you for years to come, write songs in your name and hold a special ceremony to honor you. He'd always hoped his impending death would be quick and painless, way later on in life after he watched his child grow up and get married, be a successful adult, and have a loving family. Maybe he'd be an old man, peacefully whisked away in the arms of his wife, sailing away into the abyss to the loving whispers of his family at his side, comforting him into slumber. But, a bitter grin rose over his cheeks, curling his lips nastily as a harsh chuckle burst free from his chest. He never would've imagined he would possibly die by his daughter's hand.
Racking his brain for something - anything to do, it suddenly hit him, and he sucked in a sharp breath. No, it couldn't be…. His hands shook at his sides, mouth going as dry as a dessert and a bitter laugh threatened to bubble from deep in his chest. Of course, he would remember this. Of course, this would come back to him. The news articles he thought were a joke, the posts on the internet of strange phenomenons he had written off and just teenagers pulling a prank. He was wrong. He was so wrong.
Quirks, they were back.
Year 3212
Tokyo, Japan
"If you have a quirk, keep it hidden."
The words echoed over and over again in his skull, playing like a broken record on repeat - a soprano of hisses and sheer dread, crescendoing into destruction that made his heart ache like a wound in his chest. He should've kept it hidden, he should've kept it to himself, he thought with a hiss, shaking his head in contempt. Should've hidden and played along, keep up the perfect little act that everyone expected with an innocent smile on his face so they were none the wiser. But it was too late, he knew it. A fear that he never thought he would experience slapping him in the face. The empty desk across the room and unread text messages told him exactly what he needed to know. A cold fear shot through his veins, freezing his body in an instant as a sick wave of nausea hit him like a ton of bricks.
Fuck, he was going to be sick -
No, no this couldn't happen. No, not to him. Not to someone he knows… It was always people from distant cities, sad faces on the news that he never gave a second glance to before heading out and instantly forgetting their existence. It was never someone he knew.
The boy's fists slowly curled around the edge of his desk, so hard that his knuckles slowly turned white and he worried for a second that he might accidentally chip the cheap wood off. His mind was a flurry of thoughts, a storm raging on inside that he couldn't calm no matter how hard he tried and he just wasn't there. Couldn't bring himself to focus on the meaningless lesson their teacher left them with before stepping out of the room to make more copies. Everything wasn't real, it was an illusion - a harshly unfair illusion. It just had to be - just, please...
"Did you hear about Hiroto? I saw it on the local news this morning. Can't believe it took them this long to find him."
"I know! It makes so much sense, though, he was such a weird kid. Should've known he was a quirk-user — fucking freak. I can't believe there was one in our school! I'm so weirded out."
"Kagome is neighbors with Hiroto, and she told me that last night this car showed up outside their house and these official looking guys knocked on the door and stayed forever. By the time they came out, Hiroto was dragged away in some weird jacket thing while his mom just stood there crying after him. Crazy, huh?"
"Serves him right. Quirk-users don't belong. They died out years ago, and they should just kill anyone else who winds up with one! Fuck that All Might and Deku crap. That's just stuff of legends."
Collective laughter rang in his ears in a swarm of sounds, cold and sharper than any knife, slicing right through his heart. His classmates, middle school students, had no right to sound so cruel and monstrous, but then again, he couldn't help but almost agree. Would he be as destructive as some of the historical quirk-users from history class? Like the ones who demolished entire cities, killing hundreds of thousands of people, like humanoid freaks of nature that went against every single scientific explanation in the book. No, no Hiroto couldn't do that. He- he wouldn't! Right?
Damn it! He gritted his jaw together so hard that his teeth audibly clicked, grinding the serrated edges down as a familiar swell welded up behind his eye sockets. No, he silently snapped, berating himself for feeling so weak and pathetic, he wasn't going to cry. Not here, not now. Not ever.
Hiroto - He thought, glancing at the empty seat at the front of the room where his best friend should've been no - he was no longer his best friend. He didn't know him anymore. Whatever they were before. Childhood friends, playing together in the sandbox, having sleepovers every Friday night and staying up late to eat his secret candy stash he hid away from his parents. Walking to school together every morning, without forgetting to stop for a pork bun at Mrs. Sato's shop on the street corner three blocks from school and trying to sprint the rest of the way before the bell rang, knowing they'd both be late despite the bright smiles on their youthful faces. Or when he experienced his first crush and rejection, Mikan handing back his love letter with an awkward smile and embarrassed blush on her cheeks but her green eyes shown with judgment, a hint of disgust he could never forget. Hiroto took him out for mochi that day, never once mentioning the group of girls laughing in his face in gym class as Mikan skipped away to join in on the soccer game with that blonde haired, blue eyed Ryuu who once smacked his tray on the ground for accidentally taking the last serving of curry at lunch.
None of that mattered now. For Hiroto was a quirk-user, and he didn't belong in this world.
Year 3219
Japan
Not all people are born equal.
She knew this ideology like the back of her hand or the back of her brain. She learned this long ago, even before she could barely walk, had it forced down her throat by her parents, peers, and society. She saw proof of it everywhere she went, from the other girls in her dance class to the homeless huddled in the alleyways for warmth. People were not born equal. You were either better or not.
And Asuka was better.
She could still see her now. The rosy pink of her hair pulled back in a long braid cascading down her back, the shy slump of her shoulders and terrible posture, down to the everpresent half-hearted smile, and those muted yellow eyes that shown like the sun peeking thru on a stormy afternoon - not quite present yet still partially there. She smelled like a field of buttercups, and a slight twinge of sugarplum that twisted her stomach into knots and her skin was always radiant and soft looking to the touch as if she moisturized ten-times a day. She was curvy, yet on the shorter side, with slightly pudgy thighs and stomach, yet it never affected her. She could still hear the crunch of gravel as her feet scuffed the ground, tips of her shoes almost touching and turning pigeon-toed and Asuka hated it.
She hated every bit of it, didn't understand it at all.
She was brilliant, there wasn't any exception to that. Always made good grades and excelled in school and extracurriculars. She was also a member of the same dance school and had attended almost as long as Asuka. The other girls liked her well enough, paid her a decent amount of attention, and the teacher seemed to think she was kind and likable. She wasn't the best dancer, not at all really, she was more of a lowly talent who didn't take it seriously enough, and that irked her. Why participate if you didn't want to, Asuka always wondered. At least try your best, or there's no point.
She was always late, never made it on time to class or dance practice and she never looked remorseful about it. She'd always give that annoying half-hearted smile and bow her head at the teacher before casually walking to her seat, all the while never actually seeming apologetic. She brought the same bento every day for lunch and never finished it all, yet would always take extras offered to her by their other classmates. And she always wore a stupid, tacky silver charm bracelet on her left wrist, with a small silver star dangling down the delicate chain.
All of this haunted her like a ghost, never leaving the back of her mind. Even in slumber, she saw her face, smelt her scent, heard her voice, an almost emotionless draw that was pitched high yet a watery, murky volume that never seemed to raise in anger or fear, or even happiness. God, sometimes she used to wonder if she was a robot because it was just so unsettling the way she acted.
Or, that's what Asuka always told herself.
The last person Asuka had expected to see that day was Fuji. Didn't she just always show up at the worst times? She could have almost laughed, a bitter, hollow sound because, of fucking course, this was who it was. This was the person who was forced in the room. Asuka was always ready, she knew what had to be done, and it wasn't any different than any time before. It was always the same, and she was good at it. But that didn't mean she enjoyed it. She was always good at what she put her mind to.
The enclosed navy shaded metal of the room suddenly felt so small that day, so closed in like a tiny box that caged her, trapping her in reality and she could remember the squeezing burning sensation in her lungs. Asuka's burnt amber gaze settled on the girl in front of her, the fourteen-year-old looking the same as she always did with the new addition of the full black longsleeved jumpsuit that clung tightly to her body whereas Asuka's own was loose around her thinner, taller frame. She had seemed so small, standing there under the fluorescent strip lights doing nothing good for her skin moreso than washing the girl out. She was so much shorter, yet wider with that stupid fucking charm bracelet still danging on her wrist. Something about seeing the silver flashing sent a wave of irritation through her.
Why was it a fucking star? She asked herself this every day but never voiced the question because it was a strange silent notion that no doubt would get her a weird look. But she wondered why it was that because the other girl wasn't better. She was not equal to her, not in the slightest. And honestly, it didn't matter in the scheme of things. Why would a simple piece of jewelry make a difference? It didn't. No matter who wore it, it didn't matter a single bit.
Asuka could feel all of the eyes on them, could hear the choir of voices mixing together into a humming of white noise that, like everything else, didn't matter. She couldn't actually hear them anyways through the glass, but she imagined their voices many times in her head when she laid in bed at night, staring up at the empty navy ceiling and somehow that made it real. She remembered her eyes had fallen to the nametag plastered to Fuji's chest, telling her what she already knew, and something squeezed in her own heart making her insides bubble and curl thickly.
This was wrong. This was so so wrong, she thought staring back at the shorter teen and with a tan hand, carded it through her wavy dark hair with shaky movements she had silently prayed weren't noticed.
"Oh, it's you." Fuji had said, in such a whispy, murky tone that was so quiet Asuka had almost missed it, but the whisper tunneled back against the metal walls loud and clear in the crumbling silence and the tension stretched her insides. Fuji spoke as if she expected this, as if she knew her from ages ago, although they never really spoke that much or spent a lot of one-on-one time together.
But yet, after all these years, even at twenty-seven, she could remember it all, could remember that day for the rest of her life as if it was scarred into the fabric of her being. And honestly, who was she kidding? It was. This memory would probably even be her last on her deathbed. Asuka could describe it perfectly in every detail, paint a picture of her face, of her thin, slim face and button nose, of her slightly array eyebrows and her long lashes as well as the almost bored, empty look in those eyes. Those yellow, muted orbs that stared at her so deeply, so hauntingly - so fearless. Could it be fearlessness? She wondered, pursing her lips together endlessly, every time, even in the shower, at work, on the subway….She could still feel the churning of her stomach, the sick feeling inside of her that suddenly fizzled out to an overwhelming something. Something she couldn't place, some urge she couldn't wrap her mind around, and she didn't know or understand. Or maybe she didn't want to understand.
"Go on," She had muttered, a creeping whisper as she leaned closer with that empty stare, barely blinking in the silence and Asuka could swear the other wasn't even breathing, couldn't see or hear her breaths puffing out of her nostrils and thin, pink lips.
Asuka held her own breath, ears pounding with the blood that pumped viciously through her veins, the strange feeling hammering in her heart and filling her mind to the brim. Until it was all nothing. Just two girls staring back at each other, knowing but not really knowing. One with a pinkish rose colored hair and the other with a deep, rich brown, a cinnamon shade left hanging around her shoulders in medium-length waves and over her forehead in fluffy bangs. When Asuka didn't reply, she could see her moving forward, so slow, almost as if scared she'll disturb something unknown, cautiously stepping forward, the quiet thuds of her black boots against the ground, the ones that Asuka always thought didn't suit her, didn't suit her soft frame with those hard lines.
Fuji stops just a foot away from her, expression the same as always and Asuka sucks in a breath and tries to calm herself, calm the raging inside of her, but it seems the closer the other gets to her, then the worse the feeling gets. There's a screaming inside her head, a stern yell of her mind's voice to 'get yourself together,' but she can't seem to make it happen. Not as she swallows around a dry throat, and slips her eyes shut in a feeble attempt to distract herself.
'Come on, count to ten,' she mutters silently, squeezing her fists together at her sides helplessly for her hands want to do something, anything that she can't do and she knows it, knows that bubbling urge too well. 'Just count in your head until -'
Suddenly, a gentle, featherlike touch shocked her skin, barely rubbing against the top of her hand in a fleeting millisecond and if her whole body hadn't noticed the intrusion, she would have wondered if the feeling was made up. Asuka remembered her eyes flying open, a hiss on her lips and a sharp glint to her eyes, "Don't touch me!" screaming out of her mouth before she knows what she's even saying and Fuji has the audacity to give her that same, empty stare as Asuka yanks herself backward and away from the other girl's touch. But to her displeasure, Fuji doesn't waver, instead, she leans back in, the girl so close that Asuka can remember the smell of her toothpaste, and see the lingering pores on the skin of her nose from puberty. She's so young, so youthful but those eyes…
Before she knows it, Fuji says those words. The ones that haunt her every day, that stick with her in the night. The words that are tattooed onto her soul, and she remembers her fourteen-year-old self's eyes slightly widening as she tries to pull away to no avail.
"It's okay, I know."
And Fuji yanks Asuka's arms forward, eyes trained on her face and for the first time Asuka's heart wrenches in her chest, squeezing and surging as her breath leaves her body in a shocked gasp - for those yellow eyes weld up with shining tears. Tears Asuka had never seen before until that moment, and for a split second, Asuka almost thinks they're pretty, like jewels twinkling under the stars of her muted yellow gaze and it's too late. Fuji never shows emotion, what is this? Why?
"Why?" Why are you doing this? Asuka finds herself choking out, the words a bubble, a whisper of a sob that she has never used before and even surprises herself. She isn't weak. She isn't pathetic. She doesn't cry, her parents always told her crying was for the weak. The last time she remembered crying was when she was five years old and fell out of her cousin's tree in the backyard at their family picnic and broke her arm. But here she is, perplexed and floored by the girl in front of her who wasn't supposed to be here. Why was she here? She didn't belong here!
She couldn't do it, Asuka just couldn't bring herself to do it. She knows how many people were staring down at them that day, how many onlookers were expecting the usual something, yet she didn't want to do it. Before she didn't mind, she didn't like it, but it was easy enough if she just got it over with. She hated the feeling later on when she was actually faced with the reality of what she had done for those stupid experiments…. But faced with someone she knew, a familiar face suddenly put a wrench in her carefully constructed persona, and she didn't want to do it.
Although, it didn't matter what she wanted because Fuji had already moved on her own and placed her hands to her own, yellow eyes burning holes in her head as she whispered those final words. She could hear that voice like a bad dream, like the soundtrack to her life. She could hear it so loud and clear as if it was the only sound she had ever heard. She could still feel her skin, as soft as she had always pondered, as it slowly melted away down to nothing. The braid that her pinkish rose-colored hair had always been tied back in blackened, like a burnt flower crumbling under the ash and dancing away in the wind. Her eyes seemed to be forever opened, a portal until another horrifying world that Asuka didn't want to know but didn't have a choice in before they sunk away.
The silver charm flashed in the light and Asuka couldn't help her fascinated stare glued to it as the silver slowly melted into a puddle beneath her feet until the start shape was no more than a blob on the floor.
"Because if it has to be someone, I want it to be you."
No, people weren't born equal. No matter what she had thought before, they were not equal. Asuka had always thought herself to be better, above average, but Fuji was better that day. They might not have been equal, but Fuji could read her mind and knew when to give up a losing battle that she had no place in.
But Asuka, as another first in her life that day, was the one who came out of it as the loser.
Flashback to be continued...
End of Intro
The theme of this story will be a quirkless society in the future of the MHA universe in Japan. Izuku and crew will not be around, for they lived decades ago. Suddenly, quirks are emerging and quirk-users are thought of as terrifying menaces to society. Our new students are forced to attend the new and improved UA for quirk training and containment away from a discriminating and fearful, unaccepting society. Heroes are no more in this world, although they are slowly starting to make a reappearance gradually over time. But, good cannot exist without evil and not all quirk users are valiant. When new villains appear from the shadows, power-hungry for an overthrow of society to adapt and bow to quirk-users, what's an outcast quirk student to do?
Rules -
1. Submit your OC through PM only. Your PM title should be, "OC Name, Quirk, and affiliation (Good, evil, etc.)" This goes for any OC you submit. If you submit two characters, then send them each on their own PM. Also, please only use my form for sending a character. Other forms for different stories will be DENIED.
2. Please follow the story so you can keep up with updates.
3. Active readers only! So try to keep up with chapters and review at least every few updates.
4. No Gary Stus or Mary Sues. Understand that everyone has faults, so that includes your OC. If your OC's persona is "perfect," I can understand that, however, give them some faults for development.
5. This is a future fic, so Izuku and crew aren't around anymore. So please do not let your OC be related to any canon characters for this timeframe.
6. You can't reserve a spot for your OC. However, this isn't first come first serve. Everyone has a fair chance of getting accepted. I need a minimum of 16 students, and several teachers, villains, etc.
7. No OP characters, give them weaknesses and make them realistic. Copies of characters or quirks are not acceptable. Try your best to be original. I know there are a lot of characters in BNHA so I won't be too hard on this but try not to directly copy a character. Remember that in this future, quirks are rare genetics that have just sprung back up in the gene pool, so not everyone will have quirks in this world. Think of it like maybe 20 percent have quirks, the rest are quirkless.
8. JAPANESE NAMES ONLY! This fic takes place in Japan, so PLEASE make sure your OC fits this for plot purposes. Your OC can be another ethnicity under the pretenses that they have a realistic reason for being in Japan. Thank you.
If you're submitting a student, teacher, pro hero, or villain, copy/paste the application/form on my profile!
How are you all? I hope everyone is doing great and having a wonderful week. I'm not new to SYOCs, I have a few of my own that, after a personal hiatus because of a death in my family, I have decided to return and continue my fics and even start this one. So thank you from the bottom of my heart for checking this out. This story will be different from the typically lighthearted fics out there, so prepare for some darkness as well as some soft fluffiness too. I'm not afraid to get down and dirty with some gory fics.
Thanks for reading! And if you guys want to chat or anything, PM me!
Much love.
