Pekikjjjj
BNHA X READER
They called her cursed.
Born quirkless in a world defined by power, she was nothing more than an afterthought-a forgotten shadow, a blemish on the pristine facade of a perfect society.
But when death reached out to claim her, carried by sharp tongues and cruel hands, something ancient stirred in the void of her despair. It offered her a choice-or perhaps a curse-the weight of the world and the power to judge humanity as a whole.
Now, in a world that worships quirks, she exists as something far beyond their comprehension. She doesn't see humanity in black or white, only the crimson stains of guilt and the heavy toll of consequence.
Some beg for her forgiveness.
Others plead for her destruction.
She prays for nothing-because even the dead must pay their dues.
"Call it justice, call it vengeance, call it the poetry of suffering. In the end, it all tastes the same."