Chromaniac [Various!BNHA x Reader]

0: Prologue

What a wonderful world it was.

A wonderful world where humans could fly, shoot fire from their hands, and save the world time and time again.

Where you could be a hero, a symbol of peace, a savior to civilians.

Or a villain, shrouded in darkness, living a high life of crime.

Ah yes, wonderful indeed.

What was even more wonderful were the colors.

The world was filled with color. Every stripe on a hero's costume, every curl on your friend's head, every bright flash of red in the eyes of your enemy. Colors were everywhere.

Your life, however, were the opposite of colorful.

Devoid of color, I might say.

Being the daughter of two pro heroes: Monochrome and Sadako, you were born into a fairly well off household. Your parents were very successful heroes that worked in an agency just outside of Musutafu. Their popularity and efficiency as heroes placed them fairly high up on the Hero leaderboard; Your mother as the No. 11 hero, and your father as No. 20. With the money they racked in, all of your neighbors were sure that you had a luxurious and fun home.

Well, that home was, sadly, the most boring in the world. Your father Monochrome was colorblind, so he never saw the point in getting any colorful furniture. Your mother Sadako was an ultra minimalist, so your home barely had any furniture in the first place. The outside was painted white, and the roof was black. The flowers planted in the front were all white roses and camellias. The only thing that had some semblance of color was the little maple tree that turned pink and red.

Your room was black, white and grey. Your clothes? Black white and grey. Your toys? Black, white and grey. The (s/c) on your skin, the (e/c) of your eyes, and the (h/c) of your hair were the most colorful things you had.

Well what about your everyday life? The daughter of two high ranking heroes must have lots of toys and friends to play with, right?

Since your parents were often out on patrol or working, they were never home for very long. When you were a baby, your parents both went on a hiatus from hero work to take care of you. As soon as you turned 3, they resumed working and left you home alone. They were sure that you would behave "responsibly" by yourself.

You had little toys to begin with, so playtime was limited. All of the items you could cause trouble with were stowed away or placed higher than your small arms could reach. Likewise, all of the items that you could possibly injure yourself on were either baby-proofed or locked in your parent's bedroom.

So, for the majority of the day, you would aimlessly roam the house or attempt to read the books your parents had bought for you. They expected you to be able to read simple books by age three, since, well, the both of them had begun reading at a very early age. You were no different, right?

It seemed the older you got, the more your family expected from you. They were good people, of course. They had very strong morals and a strong desire to witness you succeed, but every once and awhile you wished they'd ease up.

Pressure often led you to push yourself over the edge. In the evenings you found yourself sounding out words and squinting at your Grandmother's cursive lettering. It was bizarre to see a child of your age studying, cruel even. But it was a necessary chore for you to do so. You had to catch up. You were the only pure-blooded (L/n) grandchild, the sole heir to carry on your family's legacy.

So, all alone in your big house, you studied on.

Well... you weren't completely alone. Your grandparents would stop by your home periodically to train you in proper etiquette and extra early-on schooling. They taught you how to address your elders, how to be polite and courteous, some basic addition and subtraction, words, so on and so forth. Your Grandmother was the one who acted as your primary teacher, so you were to be extra formal with her. Any casual language would make your lessons longer and more tedious.