Various BNHA X Fem Reader.
Sorta ocish character.
White hair and blue eyes.
Where an inauspicious girl meets her doom and ultimately gets transported into the chaos of My Hero Academia.
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SHIGARAKI HAD DECIDED on a change of plans that day. Originally, he was supposed to use the crowd of reporters as a distraction to infiltrate U.A. and steal All Might's schedule, but he found a far more tantalizing opportunity elsewhere.
Now, he stood in front of the modest Aizawa household, a twisted smirk playing on his lips. The security camera above the back door beeped frantically for a second before crumbling to dust beneath the caress of his decaying touch.
The lock on the door gave way with little resistance, the soft click drowned by the muffled noise of the city outside. As he crept inside, the house was quiet. Shigaraki's four fingers brushed against the walls as he moved up the staircase, his footsteps ghost-like, each touch leaving behind a whisper of decay that he withheld at the last second. He knew exactly where he wanted to go.
The door to your room creaked as he twisted the knob and stepped inside, blinking at the sudden brightness. The contrast from the dark hallway to your room was jarring; sunlight streamed through pastel curtains, illuminating the space filled with an almost sickening amount of plush toys and hero memorabilia.
His crimson eyes narrowed at the sight. Posters of All Might, Hawks, and other top heroes adorned the walls, their exaggerated smiles mocking him. The plushies, especially those of All Might, seemed to glare back at him with defiant little eyes. For a moment, he imagined reducing them to dust, but he held back, fingers twitching.
He moved toward your cluttered desk, eyes skimming over the papers and notes scattered across its surface. One page, in particular, caught his attention—a printed schedule with a red circle drawn around the upcoming Monday. Next to it, in your neat handwriting, was the word: USJ. Beneath it, the names of all your classmates and the supervising teachers were listed: Aizawa Shota and, most importantly, All Might.
A thin smile tugged at Shigaraki's lips, splitting the dryness there. This was it. The perfect moment to strike.
His gaze shifted to one of your My Melody plushies sitting primly on the edge of your bed, its stitched smile as innocent as ever. Shigaraki reached out, the rough pads of his fingers twirling the plush ear with a strange, detached gentleness. The contrast between its soft fabric and the deadly intent coursing through him was almost poetic.
