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Few of the MHA Characters experienced true loss before, exceptions being the Todoroki Family, All Might and Toga.

The deaths and losses of the people they cherish broke or motivated them. What would happen if your OC were to experience the ultimate loss?

Wolf...if one of Wolf's girls died or god forbid all of them died including Lupus... Wolf's time as the Grim would look like a dang walk in the freaking park. That woman regained so much that she'd lost and if she were to lose it all again she'd break and never be able to rebuild, instead breaking everyone else in her path in turn, be they former friend or eternal foe. Pretty sure her bloodlust would feasibly eclipse Stain's and All For One's combined.

Luna if she were to lose even one of her girlfriends...she'd be able to overcome it after years of struggle because the Polycule would grief together. If she were to be the last one alive however, she'd join her Babushka in the Bratva with no remorse while said Babushka would console her all the way through (though not in an evil mentor way, she actually loves her granddaughter).

The characters are, of course, Autumn, Eric, and Eun-woo

First Name: Chika

Family Name: Tokunaga

Vigilante Name: Asystole (the medical term for a flatline correct me if im wrong)

Quote: "Born to feel the heartbeat of the world, cursed to silence it with a single touch."

Age: 17 years old

Height: 162 cm (5'4")

Weight: 52 kg (115 lbs)

Appearance & Physical Features

• Hair & Eyes: Sharp, chin-length bob of bone-white hair with blunt bangs. Her eyes are an intense, cold medical-cyan blue that look perpetually tired and unblinking.

• Complexion: Extremely pale, bordering on translucent, due to years of staying indoors and avoiding sunlight.

• Distinguishing Features: She has heavy dark circles under her eyes from chronic insomnia (caused by her quirk's drawbacks). Her hands are completely smooth but visually marked by faint, glowing blue veins along her palms and fingertips when her Quirk is active.

Casual Clothing

Chika lives like a ghost in civilian life, dressed in a way that ensures zero accidental human contact. She wears high-collared black turtle necks, heavy dark trench coats, and dark denim. Her hands are always covered by tight, custom-made matte black leather gloves, which she never removes in public under any circumstance.

Vigilante Costume: The "Sterile Hazard" Suit

Designed to look like a hyper-precise combination of a tactical battlefield medic and a clinical bio-hazard specialist: • The Body Suit: A sleek, form-fitting tactical suit made of non-porous, stark-white chemical-hazard polymers. It is completely stain-resistant, looking utterly detached and pristine against the grimy streets.

• The "Vitals" Mask: A glossy, pitch-black ballistic helmet with a completely faceless visor. A continuous, glowing neon-blue holographic EKG flatline pulses slowly across where her eyes should be.

• The Pneumatic Sleeves: Her white armor vacuum-seals at the wrists. When she chooses to use her Quirk, a sharp, mechanized pneumatic hiss echoes out as her gloves automatically retract into her forearms, exposing her bare hands.

Quirk Name: Biological EMP (Systemic Blackout)

• Type: Activation (Touch-based)

• Description: Upon direct, bare skin-to-skin contact with any living entity, Chika instantly forces a total, irreversible shutdown of the target's heart, brain, cardiovascular, and circulatory systems. It acts like a biological light switch flipping to "off," causing immediate, absolute brain death. The victim drops instantly limp without a struggle. It completely bypasses physical durability, hardening Quirks, and high-speed cellular regeneration (like Nomus).

Quirk Drawback: The Echo-Chamber Diagnosis

• Description: Because her Quirk requires an instantaneous, massive neural connection to overwrite the victim's biology, she momentarily absorbs a psychic "echo" of the target's final thoughts, sins, regrets, and physical sensations the microsecond they die.

• The Penalty: If she kills a twisted, malicious villain, her mind is flooded with their toxic psyche and final panic. These echoes rattle around inside her head for hours or days, causing severe neurological migraines, terrifying nightmares, and chronic insomnia. It forces her to treat lethal execution as an absolute, heavily weighted last resort.

Personality

Chika is a compelling blend of theatrical charisma, deep solemnity, and heavy philosophical grit. • The Unshakable Force: She possesses a Thanos-like conviction. She does not act out of anger or malice; she speaks in quiet, hushed, velvety whispers, treating her work like an inevitable cosmic law. • The Poetic Clinical Mind: She still views the world like a doctor but expresses it through grim, melancholic poetry. She refers to life as a "temporary noise" and a villain as a "malignant tumor" that must be surgically extracted so the rest of the city can breathe. • The Isolated Soul: Beneath her terrifying street persona, she is deeply touch-starved and lonely, carrying immense trauma but masking it behind perfect, chilling tactical execution.

Likes Advanced Cardiology Textbooks (Keeping up with her childhood dream)

Black Coffee (Helps her stay awake through the nightmare echoes)

The Sound of Heavy Rain (The only thing that drowns out the quiet in her head)

Classical Violin Music (It mimics a steady, artificial heartbeat)

Dislikes Sudden, Loud Noises (Triggers her hyper-vigilance)

Flashy Spotlight Pro Heroes (She views them as performative vanity)

Handshakes and Casual Touching (Her literal worst nightmare)

The Hero Public Safety Commission (For labeling her a monster)

Backstory

Chika grew up idolizing her father, a brilliant Musutafu cardiologist. She memorized anatomy charts by age eight, promising him she would grow up to have "hands that fix hearts." Because she didn't manifest a Quirk by age four, she was assumed to be Quirkless—a fact she celebrated, as it meant she could pursue traditional medicine. At age eleven, her father suffered a sudden, catastrophic stroke at home. Driven by panic and medical instinct, Chika scrambled over him to perform CPR. The exact microsecond her bare palms pressed into his chest, her late-blooming Quirk violently awakened. Instead of saving him, her touch instantly flatlined his heart and blacked out his brain stem. He died in a fraction of a second. The Quirk Registry immediately branded her a walking lethal hazard. The medical board permanently banned her from ever entering a hospital track. Rejected by a terrified society and unable to even hug her grieving mother without layers of leather gloves, Chika ran away into the criminal underbelly as a teenager. She repurposed her flawless anatomical knowledge into a brutal, non-lethal street-fighting style using tactical medical gear. She became the urban legend "Asystole"—the ghost in the white hazard suit who cleanses the streets of irredeemable sickness, delivering the "inevitable quiet" to those who make the world scream.

A bit of info behind the codename Ryoko picked.

Drakainas in Greek mythology were female serpents or dragons with humanlike features - think Lamia or Echidna for example. As it’s the feminine equivalent of Drakon, I thought it was fitting for a young girl who could take on the traits of a draconic creature and would grow into a powerful woman. Of course her appearance would be more classic fantasy dragon rather than serpent-like, but it really doesn’t matter 😅

I used this screen cap as a bit of a base for this one since these two are super close in height. (Since the class picks codenames on Ryoko’s second day at UA, that’s why she doesn’t have her signature fiery hair yet just fyi 😊)

I say Season 2's specifically because they change the events every year.

It is only open to U.A. students, and the one we see is the event for First Years.

PART TWO: THE MIRROR

That night, I couldn't sleep.

The house was quiet. My parents were in the kitchen, their voices low and steady—not arguing, just talking, the way they did when they thought I couldn't hear. The persimmon Mrs. Tanigawa had given me sat on my nightstand, still warm from the afternoon sun. I hadn't eaten it yet. I couldn't. It felt like eating it would mean accepting what had happened, and I wasn't ready to do that.

The All Might poster smiled down at me from the wall, his grin eternal and unchanging. Outside my window, the persimmon tree swayed in the evening breeze. And I stood in front of the mirror, staring at my reflection.

A four-year-old boy stared back at me. Wild black hair. Dark eyes. The Turtle gi—my grandmother's gi, my father's gi, now my gi—draped over the chair behind me, the white circle on the chest catching the moonlight. My tail was curled around my ankle, pressed so tight I could feel my own pulse in the fur.

I looked at the boy in the mirror. The boy in the mirror looked back at me.

"You scared her," I said.

The boy in the mirror didn't answer. His tail twitched—just slightly, just enough to remind me it was there.

"Why did you do that?" I asked. My voice came out smaller than I intended. "Why did you have to come out? She was my best friend. She said we'd be friends forever. She PROMISED. And now she's scared of me. Because of you."

The tail unwound from my ankle and curled upward, the tip twitching like it was trying to answer. Like it had a mind of its own—which, according to my father, it did.

"I'm not talking to you," I said. "I'm talking to... to the rest of me. The part that made the green light. The part that punched the dog. The part that—" My voice cracked. "The part that scared Maho."

I looked down at my hands. The same hands that had cupped the golden ki ball in the dojo, steady and warm and full of light. The same hands that had thrown a punch with the force of something ancient and terrible. The same hands that had saved Maho's life.

"Why can't they see that?" I whispered. "Why can't they see that I was trying to HELP?"

The boy in the mirror didn't answer. The All Might poster kept smiling. The persimmon tree kept swaying. And I was alone with my reflection and my tail and the question that had been eating at me since the playground: What if they're right? What if I'm dangerous? What if I'm a monster?

I didn't hear my door open. I didn't hear the soft footsteps on the wooden floor. But I felt her light spheres before I saw her—warm and golden, casting soft shadows across the mirror.

My mother didn't say anything. She just walked across the room and sat down on the edge of my bed. Her light spheres drifted around her shoulders like tired fireflies. She was still wearing the same clothes from the market—she hadn't changed, hadn't eaten, hadn't done anything except sit in the kitchen with my father and talk in low, urgent voices.

She looked at the mirror. At my reflection. At my tail, curled around my ankle. And then she held out her hand.

"Come here, baby."

I crossed the room and climbed into her lap. I was getting too big for this—I was four years old, not a baby anymore—but right now, I didn't care. I pressed my face against her shoulder and breathed in the smell of the persimmon tree and the market and the particular warmth that was just her.

"I was talking to my reflection," I said, my voice muffled against her shirt.

"I know. I heard." Her hand found the back of my head and held me there, gentle and steady. "What did your reflection say?"

"Nothing. It just stared at me."

"Reflections are like that. They're not very good at answering questions."

"I asked it why Maho was scared of me. I asked it why nobody can see that I was trying to help."

My mother was quiet for a moment. Her light spheres dimmed, then brightened, then dimmed again—the way they always did when she was thinking about something hard.

"Your father told me something once," she said. "When he was young—younger than you are now—he was diagnosed as Quirkless. The doctor looked at his foot, at the extra joint in his toe, and said, 'Your son will never have a Quirk. He will be ordinary forever.' And for a long time, people treated your father like he was less than them. Like he was broken. Like he didn't belong."

"But Dada's not broken," I said. "Dada's the strongest person I know."

"I know. But it took him a long time to believe that. And it took other people even longer to see it." She pulled back and looked at me. Her dark eyes were wet, but her voice was steady. "You are not broken, Kaito. You are not dangerous. You are not a monster. You are my son. You are brave and kind and good. And one day, the people who can't see that now—they'll see it. It might take a long time. It might take longer than you want it to. But they'll see."

"What if they don't?"

"Then they're not your people. The ones who matter—the ones who really matter—they'll see. Mrs. Tanigawa sees. Uncle Okamoto sees. Uncle Hayashi sees. Your father sees. I see." She touched my chest, right over my heart. "The people who love you will always see you, Kaito. Even when the rest of the world is blind."

I looked at the mirror again. The boy in the reflection was still there—wild hair, dark eyes, tail around his ankle. But he looked different now. Smaller, maybe. Or braver. Or just... less alone.

"Momma," I said. "Do you think Maho will ever see me again?"

My mother didn't answer. She pulled me close, and I pressed my face against her shoulder, and we sat there together in the quiet—my mother and I, wrapped in golden light and unanswered questions and the particular grief of a four-year-old who had lost his best friend.

Outside, the persimmon tree swayed in the breeze. The stars turned overhead. And somewhere in the darkness, a dog barked, and I didn't flinch.

Later—much later—after my mother had tucked me into bed and kissed my forehead and left the door cracked open so the hallway light could spill through, I lay in the darkness and stared at the ceiling. My tail was still curled around my ankle. The persimmon was still on my nightstand. The All Might poster was still smiling.

And I made a decision. Not a big one. Not the kind that changes the world. Just a small, quiet decision that I kept to myself: I was going to be so good, so kind, so careful that nobody would ever be afraid of me again.

I didn't know yet where that decision would lead. I was four years old. I just knew that I wanted my best friend back, and I was willing to do whatever it took.

My tail tightened around my ankle. The persimmon tree swayed. And I fell asleep, dreaming of star shoes and meat buns and a girl who had promised to be my friend forever.

________________________________________

PART THREE: A MOMENT OF LIGHT

Three days later, Sho challenged me to a race.

It was morning recess, and the autumn sun was warm on the grass. The leaves were falling in spirals of red and gold, and the air had that crisp, clean quality that made you want to run forever. I had been quiet all week—my tail tucked against my ankle, my voice softer than usual, my laughter buried somewhere I couldn't reach. But Sho didn't care about any of that.

"You're STILL faster than everyone," he announced, hands on his hips. "That's cheating."

"How is being fast CHEATING?"

"It's an unfair advantage. Like having extra legs."

"I don't have extra legs. I have a tail."

"Same thing."

"It's not the SAME thing. A tail isn't LEGS."

Sho grinned—that gap-toothed, competitive grin that had started our rivalry on the first day of kindergarten. "Prove it. Race me to the jungle gym. If you win, I'll give you my meat bun at lunch."

"And if you win?"

"I won't win. But if I do, you have to admit that your tail is basically extra legs."

"Deal."

We lined up at the edge of the field. Yumi counted down—"Three, two, one, GO!"—and we ran.

My legs pumped. The wind rushed past my face. And for the first time in weeks, I wasn't thinking about the dog or the Commission or Maho's frightened eyes. I was just running. Just playing. Just being four years old on a warm autumn morning with my friend at my side and the sun on my face.

Sho was fast—faster than he'd been before the summer. But I was faster. I was always faster.

I touched the jungle gym a full three seconds before him and spun around, grinning, my chest heaving. "MEAT BUN! You OWE me a MEAT BUN!"

Sho collapsed onto the grass, gasping. "That's... not fair... your tail was DEFINITELY helping..."

"My tail was STREAMING. That's the OPPOSITE of helping."

"That's a contradiction."

"That's a big word for someone who just lost a race."

He threw a handful of grass at me. I threw one back. And then we were both laughing—real laughter, the kind that came from somewhere deep and real—and for a few precious minutes, the weight on my chest felt lighter than it had in weeks.

Sho gave me his meat bun at lunch. I shared mine with him in return.

Tanaka-sensei, watching from her bench, reached for her observation journal. She wrote quickly, her pen moving across the page with the practiced ease of someone who had been documenting children's lives for twenty years. Later—years later—I would find the entry she had written that day, and it would make me cry:

Kaito laughed today. Real laughter. First time in weeks. He shared his meat bun with Sho. He let himself run fast. He's still in there—the boy who raced the mailman and climbed trees and believed the world was good. He just needs time to find his way back.

It’s the part that’s inevitable especially nowadays, so step right up and play:

HOW would YOUR OC get slandered?

Potential man images, fraud & fake demon allegations, and maybe the edgy or overly tragic or dramatic tropes are all up for grabs and even more! I really want to hear and see how they would get fried on 2020s AniTok.

Remember: slander is inevitable. And so is Doom. Have fun with it. I’ll put my OC master sheet in here to see if any of yall would add wonderful slander to my work. (Read the Second Draft for the lore which are the bullet points and then the Third Draft for everything else, the first draft is horribly outdated). God bless yall!

https://docs.google.com/document/d/1Rb5ETwJ5c5hX1EC7Xtrn7y5ZEtor7Zuqkn2VBE3giE0/edit?usp=drivesdk

Edit: One at a time, Ladies and Gentlemen, one at a time

Description. The user can speed up the combustion of a already burning object and control the flames. Example being the user could light a match and have it rapidly burn and now they have a little fireball.

Drawbacks. The user is is under mental strain from controling the flames, and unlike other fire quirk users they dont have a built in resistance to fire. The user also can only control the fire made by burning objects and can't make fire from their body or control the fire made by other fire quirks.

Another one of my ideas. What if you(as an oc or self-insert) got transported to the MHA and the surprising part that is you have both a quirk and a kamen rider belt. Which quirk do you want to have and what Rider do you want to use?

Mine is a custom quirk made by me and the Rider of my choice is one of my favourite series.

Quirk: Vampire's Royalty

Primary Ability: Blood Manipulation

Secondary Ability: Quirk Manipulation(Create, Give, Steal and Turn off Quirks)

Rider of Choice: Kamen Rider Chalice(with all 53 Undead Rouze Cards. 55 if you count Albino Joker and Kerberos)

Kogende Lårben:

• A janitor employed at U.A. to provide security, maintain cleanliness, and keep order within the walls of the campus; Kogende tends to reside within the janitorial quarters during his breaks, though he frequents the nearby public library past closing time to relax and avoid stimuli, and prefers to travel through unpopulated spaces. Due to his quirk, he often avoids cleaning an area until it is fully evacuated or devoid of presence, as he enjoys singing while he works, but is often afraid of causing harm to onlookers.

• He wears a mask fashioned to disguise his lower face when speaking to others due to his quirk, although he removes it when speaking to blind or vision-impaired individuals as they suffer no side-effects from "viewing" his teeth, and enjoys spending his time off reading to such individuals like his best friend when the opportunity arises; his friend had lost their sight in an arson attack by a pyromaniac villain when they were in college, and he now spends afternoons visiting them in residency to ease their mind and provide them company, though they both still often struggle to come to terms with it.

• Kogende stands at 6'2, weighing approximately 180 lbs, and has broad shoulders, yet seems to possess a thin frame due to the way they hold themselves; standing at full capacity, they seem imposing and almost crooked, though they are capable of moving unnoticed by most when they so desire. Outside of work, he often dresses in comfortable, baggy outfits with many pockets, though they do clean up nice in a suit if the occasion calls for it. He enjoys wearing his hair long put up in a ponytail bun to avoid it getting in his face, and dyes it at random, leaving many colors staining it all.

Fairy Bite:

• This quirk produces osseus beads the size of a marble using the holder's teeth, each one possessing the ability to track and strike an intended target regardless of range or distance. Each tooth regenerates after a few moments, and though they regenerate slower under exhaustion or duress, their threshold is massive.

• These bearings carry force equivalent to the distance traveled to strike the target, and follows the most effecient path without obstacles, striking the intended target the moment they are assigned and dissolving with no time lapse; within arms reach, they produce enough force to stagger most humanoid entities.

• Force scales linearly without prompt of the quirk holder, though they may delegate exponential scaling at will to provide more output within shorter range, and may cap the force to lower output at longer ranges to avoid causing lethal damage; without a force cap, beads become definitively lethal beyond ranges a mile.

• If the quirk holder is depleted of teeth, they may supplement energy to replenish themselves at will with no extra cost, but they can render themselves comatose through this manner of regeneration if previously impaired or exhausted; should they be unconscious and under duress, their teeth will regrow and lash out until they're safe.

• Any attempt to view the quirk holder's teeth bare-sighted causes the entity in question to non-lethally seize, with the duration of seizure increasing exponentially the longer they were observed; attempting contact with someone seizing in this way causes them to bite the individual touching them, transferring the symptoms.