Hawks - Tumblr Posts

DabiHawks speaks to me because they're adults in a messy and slightly professionally problematic situationship and AREN'T WE ALL

Getting back into MHA. Love this guy.

This is part 1 of 2 for a project I'm working on. Second part should be coming pretty soon (like, within a couple of days - soon).

And here is part 2. Turned out way cooler than I thought it would lol.

Just so they're in the same spot: here's parts one and two of the Freedom project.

Might end up coming out with a part three since I'm having fun with it.

can someone send me any hawks colored manga panels ? can't seem to find much 💔

A wild night! 🌙~ [Part 1]

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I just want to squish his little birb cheeks.

Ah yes. Me. My boyfriend. And his 4am zoomies.

POV: You're little Keigo's caretaker who is informed by higher ups he's on a strict diet.

Do not fall for his pleas.

Just as you were about to give in to the demons in your head, forcing you to drown in their despicable words, you heard it. The distinct sound that you'd recognise even if you were six feet underground.

You heard the unmistakable coo of your husband. Your Keigo. Your mate. At first, it got lost in the storm wreaking havoc in your head,  but the more your focused on it the more it got louder. Unable to ignore it, not that you would, you surrendered yourself to the mushy feeling it brought. Sometimes it stunned you, the power a simple coo held over you. To you it signified that you were not alone. You'd never be alone as long as Keigo could help it. Your spring sunshine that always chased away the storms.

The more you came to the more you felt it. Surrounded by the sweet sounds your husband made to calm you and in turn calm himself as well. The sweet and goey coos and chirps , that had your heart singing out of joy no matter how many times you heard it.

As you focused, you noticed you were carefully tucked away in his arms, almost glued to his chest as Keigo rocked back n forth , while coos , chirps and pretty clicks spilled out of him like a waterfall. If it were up to him, he'd nestle you in his heart,  hide you from the terrors of the world and of the mind. That you had no doubt about.

Overcome with the sudden emotions , you raised your hands to cradle his face. As you rubbed your nose across his, you find yourself wishing that could answer those pretty sounds of his with your own. To be able to convey your feelings with your own set of melodies but alas, you could only hope that you're able to get your feelings across through other means. But as you gaze upon his honey eyes you know that your love reaches him all the same.

your sweet spring sunshine.

You woke up to something soft, tickling your nose. At first, you tried swatting it away, but the feeling persisted. With a groan and finally accepting the fact that you were now awake, you opened your eyes to find the culprit who dared disturbed the sweet embrace of sleep.

You find a lil baby feather nestled in the sheets near your face and almost instantly all your irritation melts away.

You reach up to fiddle with the crimson culprit, relishing in how it glides between the tips of your fingers. You're always in a bit of awe at how these fluffly feathers could also turn into a weapon at a moment's notice. But to you, they were a symbol of warmth and love.

Unbeknownst to you, Keigo gazes at this scene with a soft smile of his own. Never did he think he'd be able to witness a small piece of heaven, just inches away from him. And although he wanted to bask in the love you bestowed upon his feather, just a bit longer, his quiet coos gave him away.

'traitor,' he thought.

As soon as you heard it, you narrowed your eyes at him, but your lips betrayed your feelings as they twitched upwards,

"Morning love, take a picture, it'll last longer."

And although Keigo flushed at your words, the twinkle in his eyes seemed to get brighter, "Hmm, maybe i should, but what good is a picture when you're right in front of me" as he snuggled closer.

Happy that you could get in some morning cuddles, you missed his feathers sneaking around.

Soon a loud shriek filled the bedroom , as you tried to wiggle away while Keigo's feathers tickled you, showing no mercy.

But as Keigo's giggles accompanied your wails for mercy, you find yourself thinking

You'd have it no other way.

A thud was heard, followed by cursing "KEIGO YOU ASS!!"

truly you'd have it no other way.

"I'M SORRYYYY! IT WAS AN ACCIDENT BIRDIE!! NO!! PUT THAT PILLOW DOWN!!"

Just as you were about to give in to the demons in your head, forcing you to drown in their despicable words, you heard it. The distinct sound that you'd recognise even if you were six feet underground.

You heard the unmistakable coo of your husband. Your Keigo. Your mate. At first, it got lost in the storm wreaking havoc in your head,  but the more your focused on it the more it got louder. Unable to ignore it, not that you would, you surrendered yourself to the mushy feeling it brought. Sometimes it stunned you, the power a simple coo held over you. To you it signified that you were not alone. You'd never be alone as long as Keigo could help it. Your spring sunshine that always chased away the storms.

The more you came to the more you felt it. Surrounded by the sweet sounds your husband made to calm you and in turn calm himself as well. The sweet and goey coos and chirps , that had your heart singing out of joy no matter how many times you heard it.

As you focused, you noticed you were carefully tucked away in his arms, almost glued to his chest as Keigo rocked back n forth , while coos , chirps and pretty clicks spilled out of him like a waterfall. If it were up to him, he'd nestle you in his heart,  hide you from the terrors of the world and of the mind. That you had no doubt about.

Overcome with the sudden emotions , you raised your hands to cradle his face. As you rubbed your nose across his, you find yourself wishing that could answer those pretty sounds of his with your own. To be able to convey your feelings with your own set of melodies but alas, you could only hope that you're able to get your feelings across through other means. But as you gaze upon his honey eyes you know that your love reaches him all the same.

your sweet spring sunshine.

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Heyyy!! I just wanted to ask will you ever be updating the fic 'Is this real?' Cuz that shit was DA BOMB !! Honestly I check that fic like every other week just to check if theres an update (i used to check it every day but then i just got sad T-T) anywaysssss just wanted to let you know your fandom ain't dead yet 🤧💖

Peace✌️

Thank you so much!

I am actually going through and editing chapters for errors like punctuation and grammar and such! I have four chapters written out to update and am planning to drop them soon! I aim to have them all posted by September since my bday is in September.

I am so happy that you’re still enjoying the story. I can’t express how grateful I am for this. 🖤😭

🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹🥹

Goldeneye Down

((banner by me! I don't own Horikoshi's characters/stories))

Pairing: Hawks x reader (quirkless!(gn)reader)

Words: 4.6K

Rating: T+ (canon-typical post-mission shenanigans, so it gets raw, kids.)

Warnings: canon-typical violence, description of injuries/blood, mentions of medical trauma, anxiety, so many tears, mutual pining, HURT/COMFORT, angst with a happy ending

Summary:

If a kiss would fix him, he'd sooner never breathe again. If you knew it would work, you'd surrender your lungs and anything else for his comfort. He hardly gets tender treatment after a fight- and that shows by how tightly he's hugging your waist for dear life. Alternatively: three times you've witnessed your dashing Hawks masking his hurt, until he can't anymore. Each time is worse than the last- until you finally learn that you're the only one who truly asks how he feels after nights like this. Not 'how are your wings' or 'is he stable'... but it's you who takes the time to wipe his face gently with a washcloth: not to rid Hawks of the sweat and grit to make him presentable, but gifting Keigo the chance to feel clean for once.

A/N: Yall, this man is one of my favorite characters on this show, and I have so many writing plans for him-- so apologies for starting right out the gate with angst??? I love him I swear

For my My Hero Academia Masterlist, check it out here!

Read on AO3

The first time you ever saw Hawks shirtless was hardly the stuff fantasies or a perfume advert concocted. He was bandaged across one entire pec, around his middle, and up to his shoulder, after all.

Work as a writer took you to many glamorous locations, but also to the grittiest– recently, hero hospitals when there’s been a close call and you are in for an interview with either a dying hero for their final public wish, or a heartfelt op-ed about a rising sidekick’s latest stand against threat and evil. In either case, you’d wound up at the bedside of a darling rescue agent who’d had an incredible story to share despite their career-ending injuries. 

With a genuine word of thanks and a shared pudding packet, you were leaving the hospital wing in fairly good spirits until your stomach turned in shock at what awaited you in the hallway– a gravely bandaged Hawks standing at the nurse’s station in a half state of dress, locking eyes with you in the first instance where you’d ever caught him off his guard. 

Those gorgeous eyes flashed in nervous panic which melted into boyish charm awfully quickly- standard practice for the secret object of your affections-

“Well gosh, nurse, I thought you’d give a guy a warning if a guardian angel was going to be visiting today… I’d have been decent enough to put a shirt on~!”

It was a detour of hoarse-voiced flirting on his part and masked heartbreak on yours. Seeing the blonde numbed out and paler than you’d ever witnessed him out on the job, your veil of professionalism slipped enough to really see Hawks in this moment… and catch wind of an unaware attendant who slipped the hero’s last name in front of you. 

Said PA immediately recoiled upon seeing you -an extended member of the press- overhear the #2 Pro Hero’s legal name. Though at your insistence that you were here on business that didn’t concern him, Hawks visibly relaxed enough to give you his first name himself the moment the nurse left. 

‘Mr. Takami is far too formal to come outta you; don’t even think about calling me that, dove.’

Keigo Takami truly was a man containing multitudes, but for all the tough talk about how ‘you should have seen the other guy’, you worried about that man you’ve seen now without his gold visor that night when you went home, and wondered if he was sleeping ok with his chest bound like that. 

The next injury sighting took several months of continued text exchanges, private balcony sidebars, and continued endurance of Hawks’ public displays of blatant sweet talking for you to see him less than chipper again.

Your meeting with the HPSC Press Chair was running painfully long, but necessary given the content you were working on publishing for them as side work. It wasn’t doable for you to take on a full-time job with the Hero Commission, but in your philanthropic effort to unite the civilian world with those of high profile heroes, you took on these winded assignments with the promise of a pay bump… as well as a chance to see your darling flyboy. Not that they’d note or care about your budding affections for him. Thankfully, your tight lipped smiles at him were ironclad and his reputation as a charming star preceded him, even to his higher ups so the true feelings never fully sunk in so long as you were mindful.

Pulling a doubletake at your presence in the conference room from the glass windows led Hawks to hang a left inside to quip at you, fully interrupting your meeting despite the scowls he received from the suits lining the table.

“Well isn’t this a pleasant surprise~ hey there, lovedove. Aren’t you pretty as a peach today?”

“Hey there, yourself,” you turned to acknowledge him politely, but pointedly fixed on his eye that laid nearly completely blackened and the cheek scraped to a raw red.  “--aren’t you looking- purple.”

Hawks being sufficiently threatened to report elsewhere didn’t stop him from throwing you a dismissive wink and a smirk at your subtle worry,

 “Oh this? Nah, it’ll fade. I could use the blush anyway~ it’ll save me a trip for photos tomorrow!”

That charming show of optimism wasn’t a surprise as you turned back to your grumpily apologetic managers, though you never did quite forget how Keigo stayed in the entryway soaking in even your curt ending of the conversation. He had to be practically ushered out by some fellow training officers for him to go on his merry way. Your inspection of him had been lightning quick, and you were nearly certain he was black and blue in more places than his face judging by how he sidestepped out the door.

Would he ever take his pain seriously? Under all that swagger, you certainly hoped so. Or else you hoped someone would make a fuss over him. 

Hawks shows on your patio at 12:30 in the morning one day, knocking silly on your side door. It’s been weeks since you wrote another touching piece for the HPCS’s statement on civic protection, and too long since he’s taken a rooftop stroll with you. Hell, far too long that he's had you close. Keeping you at his side, tucked under his towering wing, shielding you from the night winds, peppering each other with soft-spoken words and some stolen kisses he swears mean more to him than a move ‘just for luck’. 

Hawks knocks three times... huffing. He glanced towards the ground, tucking what's left of his wings further in with a wince. He knocks four more times, each more insistent than the last, but mindful of the noise. He even shushes himself in the delirium, canvassing your living room for signs of life.

Your oven light was still on, suggesting you hadn't gone through your full nighttime shutdown yet. That single light bulb in your kitchen appeared to double the more he stared, and tried to blink the unease away. Shit. He's really in no condition to fly. The sidewalk below your floor takes his attention again at the cry he hears. The sound is only cat this time, but still makes him oh-so nervous.

Hawks moans his impatience coupled by the searing pain, begging you to come notice him at the sliding glass. He drops his head damp with sweat to the window (intent to apologize for it later) and just bangs on the window like the desperate man he is.

"Please be up, please be up, please..."

When he opens his eyes briefly, he sees a shadow before him approaching. You'd flicked on more light in your living room and were jogging up to the window with shock brightening your features to total wakefulness. He's never been happier to see you so panicked.

Your confusion is palpable behind the door as you push the blind’s interior locking rod aside and flip up the lock, sliding it-- and Hawks-- along with you.

"Who-ooah!! Hawks??" You whisper-scream.

Stumbling aside, he grips his still bleeding hip and winces at what that move causes for his back. Eyes screwed shut, he can't even quite manage a suave, sweet greeting; he merely sighs your name as an answer to prayer.

You take in this poor, disheveled shell of a hero as he looks every bit like he's come from a dogfight. Not only were his wings sparse and bony from overuse, but his left wing was seizing up and stunted at a poor angle you knew wasn't natural.

oh my God, those poor wings… You collected him up with ready arms- gingerly guiding inside through the center of the patio, wary of bumping either's span of the door. 

"carefulcarefulcareful–"

"eh, it’ll-- nnngh!!" Hawks doubled over-thankfully right into you- "I got'kicked in the back-- right under...ahhhh~ "

Not only that, but despite the blackness of his under armour and gloves, you noted now by movement and smell that he was bleeding elsewhere. Besides the hobble, he sports a busted cheekbone and lip– which he likely bit himself.

This was a hard state to see him in and truly frightened you by the blood loss alone. Worse than any other time you’d seen him after a mission by far.

Primal, parental  instincts filled you and spilled out before you could stop yourself.

"Honey, we gotta get you to Dagoba General; it's closest--"

"I can't-" Hawks stopped you with a vice grip on your wrist while he hobbled along, "s'too public."

-Not allowed, even in an emergency. This you remembered from his earlier run through of policies about heroes needing medical attention; where in the city he could go, how it should be handled privately, and out of civilian's eyes.

"oh shit-- well, how bout the hero hospital, the one by that high school? Can't you call- or I can call! Let me-"

"No~" hawks moaned miserably. "I jus' gotta sit."

“Aren’t you -uh- supposed to have your legs up? You can lay back, it’s ok,” you try to guide him, but he only wavers- set on sitting up. His still-sure sights canvassing the room tells you he’s in a protective, alert headspace here in new surroundings. He might need more direction from you to break this..

"Hawks-- this is beyond what I can do,” You tried to reason with him, grappling a random throw blanket semi draped on the couch before he could sit down. “I told you I worked in refugee centers, I only know basic first aid- but this is more than I can help you, honey! They can get you fluids, a transfusion if you need it, pain meds stronger than what I have from the corner store if you’d just- where's your phone, I can call for an ambulan-"

Hawks fired up right away-

"NO!!" He begged, "no- they, they can't.. I don't wan'.."

Helping him sit, you knelt carefully trying to hear through his clear pain-rattled rant.

You assume he doesn't want the trouble of an ambulance or worry it wouldn't get here in time- which scares you more is debatable.

"We’re working against time here, hot stuff.." you tried for levity, caressing his hand. While he took it shakily, he bit his groan back.

He looked at you seriously, but pouted back in a way you'd normally giggle at, "No 'wee-woos'."

"I know you don't want ‘wee-woos’, but I think we're past that now." 

You cup Hawks’ cheek which successfully transfixes his attention right on your face, while you blindly try his jacket's inner pocket for his phone- closer than yours that’s clear in the back bedroom on your charger, 

"Look, I'll even talk for ya, okay? You don’t have to explain a thing about what happened tonight. Let's just get you help-"

"NO!! I can't hav' 'em find you here!"

His outburst startled you so you pulled back from his jacket entirely- at a true loss, "Can’t have who find me?"

"I won' let 'em," Hawks shook his head, pressing into his side, "I-- they don' know I'm here- they can' see only the pinpoint. Not ell'vation. Ahh. Don't wan'em know.. where you live, f’they don’ already."

You fought to keep up. He's clearly distressed- but you're surprised it's by the thought over your residence being found out. Who would be upset at the fact of him being here enough to have him shaken from even emergency services finding out?

Then you realize, he’s on the clock. He’s gotten hurt at work, and he’s not patrolling anymore. ‘The asset is damaged,’ and he’s laying low effectively out of sight.

"Your.. what, your bosses? Is that what you're worried about right now?"

Hawks was fighting for some deeper breaths. Some old instincts finally kicking in, he’s pushing air out forcefully though his lips in a decent try to slow himself down. He knows you know that much– how his work is essentially divvied into two piles: the stuff you hear about on the news, and the stuff you don't. The HPSC handles both, but primarily involves him in one. Thankfully, he knows you're quick enough to know tonight is a night of the latter and one that you know you shouldn't ask too much more of, despite your clear desire for understanding. 

But he’s bleeding on your sofa and he is about to damn near break or bleed out and you feel drawn to his heart and feel a selfish urge to know.

"I don't understand- why, ... why come here if you were worried, Kei?"

"I was.. close,” he offered with some huffs again.

That answer felt too loaded, but you were too groggy yourself to reason with such a clammy man dealing with who knows how much blood loss.

He forced as much clarity to his vision as he could, while watching you get up to close the patio door up. You shut the blinds for good measure too before debating whether to run back to the bathroom and  grab what gauze and antiseptics you had. For both the sake of time and to keep the poor man from following you throughout the apartment like you knew he’d try to do, you settled on wetting a few washcloths by the sink and came back to him.

"Your fight was close to here?" You kept him in the moment while attempting to get off his coat. He sat forward to help in this, but his eyes shut hard as it forced his shoulder blades together, to feed the gap over the wings.

Through steeled grunts he manages it, then strangles out the basics for you, "Y-yeah.. small.. weap'n traffic ring. But we had intel they'd.. Had a hit out on’the magistrate."

You set the bloodied jacket to the ground- torn between looking at his pained face and getting a look at the hip he was leaning into.

"They hadda few tough quirk users," Hawks gritted, separating his hand at your insistence. The shirt peeling back sticky was the least of his worries when you laid the wet washcloth at his side, "one had blades for legs, n’the other had a kind of whip-AHH!!"

Only water, but it burned like hell. Burned through the mess he'd made of himself. Proof he'd been sent in there outmatched-- 5 to 1 so he says, but even for the #2 Hero, the odds were stacked against him for a covert attack. You whispered a gentle apology over the sting.

You hated hearing the challenge and clear surprise of the incident that caused this version of your hero to be brought to the surface, knocking on your door like a kid trying to sneak back into the house in the middle of the night.

"So they nicked you here– and your back?" You asked gently, "Anywhere else?"

"They were gonna take out the block--"

You heard the panic rise in him again, the tremor in voice and wings.

"Haw-.. Keigo."

"They were gonna-- they didn't even know you lived up here.. you of all people.. but they were gonna do it. I had- said I hadta stop em, whatever it took.."

You set the first soiled cloth aside, centered between his spread knees, and cupped his face in both hands now. He's trembling all over and pulse is going wild under your fingers. He locked onto your necklace- avoiding your eyes in anger, guilt, and a messy, gnarled ball of exhaustion while you cleaned his face.

It wasn’t clinically necessary, but you wanted to.

 "But you stopped them," you reminded, "You said you got 'em, right?"

Something flitted across his face that looked hollow- like a younger side of Keigo Takami was looking for help finishing his thoughts. Like he was reverting to a shadow self that was about to cry just feeling you cool down his neck with the clean side of a washcloth.

"I got em." He barely whispered, new frustrated tears flooding his eyes and forcing his brows together. "I did it. I did-- what they wanted me to."

The way he says it is not a victory. It's guilty, not even proud in a sense of justice. It was forced; not unlike a militant following orders.

"The safety commission, keeping folks safe at all costs," you answered for him, forcing his eyes to blink at the name. What crimson feather remained ebbed and rustled on impulse.

Suddenly, he frowned down at his own hands, suddenly wrenching himself free of his damp, tainted gloves, like they were burning him alive the longer they stayed on his fingers. 

"Cost them," Hawks croaked, "Wanted t’take ‘em in, make them pay the way we always do. But then they said they're taking the block out- and I couldn't let em- I couldn't let them get you or anyone else--I shoulda felt like a damn hero they say I am."

Hawks shook his head pathetically, nearly collapsing forward at the feel of you raking his bangs back, before he sobbed,

"but I didn't want to. They begged. Couldn’a run when they knew they couldn't win, so they begged. I don't wanna do it this way, don't want it to come to this. I can't keep ending it all just because I can!! I’m no–"

Hawks wipes harshly at his eyes with the heel of his palm, his anger at a tipping point.

Your heart sobers and breaks altogether. He's confessing to you because he knows this whole ordeal is going to be painted so differently by the media in the morning. Heroes have to make impossible calls- and you know his handlers don't make it easier on him when it comes to completing these covert assignments. They’ve essentially given him a license none others do- allowances that dance in the world of grey.

Hawks and heroes like him have been granted permission to take lethal measures. But it’s a grim, fell thought that when you’re in the moment- the choice to kill or stay in your armed hands. The pressure is bound to weigh anyone, make them crack and doubt their sensibilities.

Any bystander would call Hawks heroic for saving more lives than taking them- but fear is what forces him to kill. Fear of loss, of the catastrophic unknown that he continues to fight for faster and faster. 

You leveled with Hawks’ sightline, forcing terrified eyes to yours. While the sight of this confident man worn down grieved you, schooling your face and brows to be strong was an easy ask when he needed you.

"I know you didn't,” you affirmed all he said, “You were so brave, Keigo. You were really brave, no matter what. No matter how these fights end. You always are brave."

Keigo listens and heaves an ungodly sound at your words. 

Suddenly, he's pulling you close and crying into your chest and you meet him all the way. You lock your grasp around his shoulders gingerly at first afraid to hold too tight. Cradling his head to you and hushing him seems to work for now, since he’s able to speak again after more schooled breaths. 

But this reaction from him is far from assured; he’s afraid. Unheard. And it seems with you, he can finally air these harsh truths without outside ears listening in stopping his tongue.

"They don't care how hard it is. They don't care. They just push and push and push me, and 'm tired and it hurts!!"

All you can do is hold him.

"I know, baby,” you barely speak, “I know it does, I know it hurts..."

“It always hurts,” he sobs, “It does every time. When you saw me and you looked at me, and you asked me if it hurt, I lied because I had to. But shit, this hurts…”

Hawks’ heated hands grasp at you: the contour of your body is the altar he's kneeling at- from this very spot of your couch. He's wailing now- half in pain, half in misery of being failed over and over again and only now -in secret- ever receiving someone to listen in return. The sound barely makes noise as its buried in your middle, but it rocks you where you kneel up straight to keep him close.

You let him grieve and hold space for every bit of it. He's never once been this vulnerable with another soul in his life, you’re convinced, and he sounds just so grateful to have your hands on his. Grounding. Giving him relief he's been starving for since you first paid attention to him across that crime scene where you first met.

Once he began mimicking your pronounced breathing he finally starts to feel more calm. 

To give him air, you robbed one hand from around him in order to push back some hair from his face and check his temperature. He could actually feel how cool your hands were once he started getting color into his face from his spot at your chest. Drained and pliant, he mumbles something at your sternum, and you ask him to repeat it gently,

“Hands’re cold,” he whispers.

“Oh, m’sorry.”

“No,” he shuts his eyes. "Feels good. You feel so good. The other docs, they're just so-- clinical.. They don't- they aren't gentle. No one feels as good as you do.”

Softness seeps from the very pit of you. What you won’t give to protect this hero now. 

You see a slumped pillow at his side and think to use it as a bolster until his back spasms lessen.

"Here, babe. Let's get one of these behind you. You can lay back a bit-"

Hawks chips his chin up to you, a bat of his eyes pleading, ‘don’t go’.

It’s official: you love him.

"I won't go,” you coo down to him, “I won't make you get up. I'll be here. Right here." 

You kiss that hot, flushed forehead, and he wants to crumble again by the way you hear him swallow. 

“I-” Hawks tries to recover from his overwhelm, "...I need you..."

Your answer would never deny him, "What do you need, pretty bird."

"Need you– hold on t'me." Hawks nuzzles your neck in relief.

"I've got you. I've got you this time. You always have everyone else; now I have you."

This is the way you’d keep him, if he were all yours. After a day of things he’d rather forget, you’d replace them all with kind words and soothing touches that settle his restlessness. To his nature that never stops moving, you’d make it your mission to bring some stillness and comfort to the forefront of his burdened mind.

While you’d love for reality to keep on pause, a flash of movement at the window gave you hope rather than alarm, 

“Hey, Kei. Lookie there. You've got a little pile waiting for you~” you nod back to the patio, catching some blips of red near the unobscured vertical blinds. “Would having them back on you help? Make you feel more steady?"

Interest piqued, Hawks sounds pleasantly surprised seeing them with his own eyes. 

"Ah. Yeah."

"Wanna rinse off, too? You can; use my shower, get yourself a lil more fresh?” the offer is true and comes from you easily. Happy to offer whatever healing measures possible to him while you wipe away leftover tears from a set of perfectly golden eyes. “I can’t promise I have something that fits you super well, but let’s see what I got.”

You knew the hot water would likely sting his wound, but would also buy him more time before he's  ready to fly again and go get checked out more formally.

Still wilty, Hawks gives a comical grimace in the face.  “I’d sure hate t’bleed all over your stuff.”

“Stuff can be washed; there’s only one you.”

And at this, he finally looks back up to you like the Keigo you know and sinks at the idea, giving in to the tempting idea. He nods. Any trace of boiled over bitterness in his aura has faded to a low simmer, and has left a warm, comfortable, gorgeous-looking man to peer up at you. 

You help him up, open the door once more, and Hawks is able to stand a bit better on his own now with a wingspan full of settling feathers preening themselves into place. Once face to face, he finds his hands are still seeking out your waist, and his face furrows– unwilling to let go fully of his personal painkiller.

You still his hesitation with a mouth’s warm press to his cheek followed by a gentle kiss on the lips. His palms go lax and a moan leaves him softly.

“I'll hold you all you want when you get out,” you whisper gently to him. “No funny business, I promise. Yeah?"

As if he held any true worries. 

"Wouldn’t ever mind if you did, dove. But yeah– I’d like that."

With another lingering kiss, you do your utmost to take things as quickly as he can manage for the sake of getting him to rest quickly… but by the way Hawks eyes you from all your puttering about the apartment, he holds no urgency or rush. To the contrary, he's happy going slow and steady while he’s with you. 

His hand catches yours any chance he gets until he’s ultimately able to lay his head to rest on you at the first idle moment of the evening. Its in these, the wee morning hours, that he’s eager now to remember this as the first night you got to help him heal and not just recover.

"You sure you aren't rushing it?" the slight worry tinges your sleepy morning voice in just the next few waking hours. All you both had was a glorified nap given his late arrival.

The song of your concern obviously pleases your loving company, as the edges of Hawks’ eyes crinkle at your worry. 

"I gotta report in by six. I'll stop at my place, change before I go in, heat up something to eat. And I’ll text you when I get there."

The checklist of answers is sweet and characteristically Hawks, but you hope Keigo hasn’t checked out of your bubble yet.

"Okay. But.. take some time if you can. Come see me if you still need me."

A noticeable fondness settles across Hawks’ devilishly handsome smile, and comes over to cup your face for another coffee-masked kiss. 

"I always need you.” Thank you. For everything. "I'll see you soon." I love you.

"See you soon." I love you too.

Weeks pass with Hawks’ semi-regular visits to the apartment, holding you in the kitchen like the lovesick boy he is at heart. ‘Talking work’ he claims, when his higher ups ask him about the delays, but he’s more inclined to slack and slip into far more personal matters as he guides you over back towards the barstools and sits back on one.

A curious mind makes you question why he's pushing the limits of his absence until he pulls you in to completely become flush with him and realize he wants your attention before anyone else’s. He sinks in how you set your hands on his shoulders, smiling like a sweet dope, looking up at you while you check him over.

You know he’s tired from a day on patrol in full sun, but the faint burn across his cheeks doesn’t seem altogether too painful. Just needs a decent aloe blend. Still, you ask as you always do, 

“How you feelin’, pretty bird?”

And he truly answers honestly now, no bravado for handlers to scoff at or bystanders to placate:

“Better now.”

TAKE MEEEE PLEASE!!!! 😭😭😭🩷🩷🫶🏻

could i request a Drabble or a one shot of hawks with a very touch starved/touched deprived s/o? ;; maybe y/n doesn’t like being hugged or is kinda new to that kinda stuff? maybe they have different ways of showing affection and have a hard time opening up? ; ~ ; I think it would be very sweet for them both to try and learn to trust each other little by little,,, I love your blog!!

AWWW ANON

I’m sorry I haven't gotten to your request ;-; BUT IM GLAD I SAVED IT :D

. . .

Hawks would be concerned at first, if you don’t flat out tell him. 

If he goes in to give you a hug, to touch you, or to give you a kiss and you flinch, he’s immediately concerned.

He’s very good at reading people, so he’d probably figured it out before you tell him.

No matter what, he’ll always give you the space you need, he loves you and wants you to feel comfortable around him.

If you do ever decide to tell him, he’ll be understanding, he wants you to be comfortable around him after all.

That being said, Keigo is a very lovey person, he wants to hold his angel, he wants to kiss you and hug you so tight that he feels suffocated by your love.

Most of all, he just wants to feel you. 

Keigo also has a lot of trauma, so if you don’t want to do things like touch/hold him, you’re gonna have to do something else in order to make him feel better.

Say how much he means to you, how much you adore and love him, how much he means to you and how good of a boyfriend he is.

He’ll never admit it, but some days he feels unworthy of you, so reassurance is key for him.

Both of you will need to come to a nice, well balanced rhythm, being able to show eachother love, while making sure you both feel comfortable and safe.

All he wants is for you to feel safe around him, that's all he cares about.

But once you finally let your walls down and let him love you, this man will be all over you.

Hugs and kisses, love bites, wings draped around you both, anything, he just needs you and that’s it.

He’ll spend mornings wrapped tightly in your arms, nuzzling his face against you, kissing anywhere he can, just loving you so deeply.

He’s glad he can be there for you, no matter what.

QJWGQKSYSJECEUWGAAAAAAAAAAAA IM COMBUSTING 🥹🥹🥹🩷🩷

It Goes Both Ways

Keigo Takami x reader

~ Keigo swears he never gets sick. But when he comes home from patrol with a bit more than a sniffle you call him out.

WC: 1.6K

Warnings: Keigo not being good at accepting help from others, feelings, a few tears, happy ending, sickness.

~This is one of the requested prompts for My Emoticon Expression’s Event; check out the masterlist On my welcome page.

For a hero known for his speed, Keigo is certainly running late today.

Him being a few minutes late usually wouldn't bother you, but with date night reservations just over an hour away, you hope he hurries up. After all, you know how much time he takes getting ready in the bathroom.

Tonight's date, in particular, is very special; the two of you signed up for a private cooking class with a Michelin star chef Keigo has been gushing about for months. Every time he mentions eating at her restaurant, his wings flap in anticipation at the chance to try her food once again.

He's not the only one excited; after binge-watching a few of her cooking shows, you can hardly wait for this very tasty date night.

There hasn't been anything crazy today on the news, so you are wondering why it is taking him so long to get home, especially since he has been nonstop talking about the lesson all week long. Honestly, if he calls you a Poussin (a young chicken) one more time, you might make him sleep on the couch tonight.

You pace back and forth in your shared apartment, occasionally glancing out the window for any sign of the Red-Winged Hero. Finding only the familiar sight of the cars below stuck in the usual rush hour traffic. 

Your phone buzzes on the coffee table behind you with a message from him

Sorry I'm running a bit behind schedule today, Angel; it's been a weird day. I'll be home in just a few. Can't wait to make something tasty with you <3

His cheesy message makes you smile, but you hate it when he texts and flies; you'll have to scold him about it once he has his feet on solid ground. 

Turning your attention back to the window, you spot a blur of red swooping toward the balcony. Keigo's wings outstretched, getting closer and closer to you. Suddenly his whole body seems to jerk roughly to the side in mid-air, almost crashing into your freshly cleaned windows.

You'd laugh if you weren't so worried about him.

He lands safely on the terrace, and you breathe a sigh of relief. He moves slowly towards the door, moving as if every one of his muscles is sore and knotted.

You watch him push open the double doors, stopping in his tracks when he notices you watching him. An embarrassed look on his handsome face. "Heh, you uh saw that. Didn't you?" 

"I did," you nod, "what happened on that landing? You ask, stepping a bit closer to him, Keigo may be one of the most beautiful people you know, but you can safely say that today he looks rough…

His fair skin looks visibly paler, and his unusually droopy eyes are empathized by some very dark circles you don't remember seeing this morning. Paring all that with slight shivering, he desperately is trying to hide you come to one conclusion. 

Keigo is sick…

He laughs off your concerns; the sound sounds much more stuffy than usual. "Allergies, all this pollen in the air makes me sneeze. One second I'm great, and the next, I throw myself off course. You know how sensitive these wings can be."

"So it's just the pollen?" you ask skeptically. "You don't look too good."

"Ouch," he winces playfully, his golden gaze looking just a bit foggy as he winks at you. "I guess that means I better start getting ready for our date then. I gotta make my little Poussin swoon tonight."

He flashes you that magazine-cover smile and turns towards the bedroom. It takes one step to send him off balance, he stumbles slightly, and his hand reaches out, gripping the back of the couch so that he can study himself.

Allergies, my ass. He's not being honest with you. "Kei?" you rush towards him to make sure he hasn't hurt himself; your wide eyes and downturned mouth tell him that you don't believe his excuses for a second.

"It's nothing; just tired that once I get me a cup of coffee for the road, I'll feel much more alive," he lies, looking so, so ashamed. 

Keigo has never liked showing his vulnerabilities, even to you. To tell you the truth, he feels like shit. 

But if he were to say it, how would you respond?

Tonight is supposed to be special; he will not ruin it.

"Yeah…no, we're not going anywhere tonight. "You say sternly, your voice loud and lips pursed, but your eyes shine with tender care and compassion. At this moment, you don't give a damn about the cooking class, or anything else for that matter; Keigo needs you. "Obviously, you're sick."

"What? Come on, Angel. It's not like I have the bird flu." he says, laughing at his own joke. This proves to be a mistake that sends him into a fit of coughing that shakes your poor Hero down to the tips of his feathers.

"Was the pun really worth it, Birdie?" you ask, reaching over to gently scratch his back with the tips of your fingers.

"Absolutely," he sighs, relaxing under your touch. "But I promise, we can still go. It's just a little cold. I can take some medicine, and we can be on our way."

The heaviness in your chest intensifies at his words. He doesn't seem to care about his own well-being at all; he looks miserable but still wants to go to make you happy. 

"Keigo," you say softly, looking directly into his glassy eyes, "We are staying here tonight. And I am going to take care of you, 

"But you can't," he blinks, taking a nervous step away from you, "It's not right; I should be the one who takes care of you."

"It goes both ways, Keigo," you say, once again closing the space between you. Your eyes become glassy with the heart-wrenching emotion you are feeling for your Hero. "I love you, and I want to make you feel better. Will you please let me help you?"

Between your pleading, sincerity, and tearful gaze, something clicks in Keigo's mind. 

He's not alone…

You want to help him…

As a lone tear trickles down his perfect cheekbones, he relents. "I-I don't feel that great. I think I want to lie down."

He's cooperating; it's enough to make your chest swell with pride as he wraps his arms around you. "Thank you for telling me, Keigo; what doesn't feel good?"

"My stomach, my head, all over, really." he sighs, giving you a little smile, "I guess I'm really falling apart on you?"

"Nothing we can't handle," You giggle, placing your lips on his forehead.

Your poor Birdie, He's burning up. 

"How about you go and change out of your uniform, and I'll bring a few things into our room," you say, already making a mental list of everything you need to grab for him. Pills, tissues, compresses. 

"T-thank you," he rasps, "I love you so much." 

It takes a bit more coaxing to get him to leave the comfort of your embrace, but once he and his droopy wings disappear behind the bedroom door, you get to work canceling the cooking class, grabbing thermometers, medicine, hydration packets, tissues, and anything else your Bird Boy might need in his recovery process. 

Your arms are overflowing with goods, and just for a moment, the thought passes your mind that you're going a bit overboard. But Keigo deserves to be pampered, and so, you open the door with your foot.

Keigo is already tucked under a mountain of blankets when you walk in; his wings are pressed tensely against his back. You have never seen him look so small in your life. The visual tugs at your heartstrings as you begin to unload your haul. 

"Do you feel a bit more comfortable?" you ask, handing him three tabs of gel ibuprofen. And a glass of chilled water. He takes the pills eagerly, swallowing them down with one gulp of water.

"Thank you," he exhales, placing the glass on the nightstand with a shaky hand, "I'm feeling a bit better."

"I'm glad," you beam, folding a washcloth and dipping it into a bowl of cold water, hoping that you can help reduce his temperature a bit before he goes to sleep. "I brought you a lot of things, so if you need anything at all, let me know."

"M' sorry about our date; I really wanted to do something special with you," he murmurs as you place the cold compress on his feverish forehead. 

"Nothing to worry about," you hum, brushing a few strands of damp hair out of his face, "I get to spend a whole night at your side; that sounds pretty special to me."

Something akin to a whine slips past his lips as he grabs your hand, bringing it down onto the fluffy sheets. "You're too sweet to me sometimes," 

"You'd do the same for me." you say honestly, "Probably more."

"Can I ask you something?" 

"Are you feeling up to making requests now, Kei?" you tease, the comment making the both of you chuckle as one of his feathers weakly brushes against your cheek.

"Just one, can you stay with me?" his voice is hesitant and small, almost as if he is a child asking a parent to check his closet for monsters after a nightmare. How could you possibly say no to him?

"Is that all?" you ask, lying down on the bed next to him. 

"For now," he smiles, giving your hand a squeeze. "I just want to hold you for a bit." 

How could you refuse?

I've been reading lots of humans are space orcs, humans are space Australians, humans are deathworlders fics but ofc the MHA edition. So, here are some prompts inspired by them!!

Humans are Space Orcs, Deathworlders, Space Australians, MHA Edition

EDIT: Pleeeeaaase don't forget the difference between sapient and sentient!! GOOGLE DEF: The main difference between sapient and sentient is that sapient means wise or full of knowledge, while sentient means having the ability to feel or sense.

What if space and Earth had heroes?

What if for training they send human class 1-A to train with the otherworldly hero students?? In space.

You could either have the alien hero school on a spaceship, a planet, or a moon– you pick, your decision!!

I would have Shinsou replace m*ne*a the grapist.

Quirks can exist or not either way it's fun. Though they may be a little too OP if you follow the narrative of other fics like this. Or you could have it be where the humans still struggle against opponents and do so more realistically while still being the top dog or apex predator lol

Do your aliens have abilities like quirks regardless if humans do or not??

If humans do have quirks maybe you can mix them up for fun and try to adapt their backstories and personalities to them?? Like Shinsou, having Explosion would be easy and you really wouldn't have to change anything. Bc Explosion is destructive and could be ignorantly viewed as villainous just like his original quirk is. While Jirou having Engine would change everything I'd think.

ALSO don't forget that human behavior, mannerisms, and emotions are complex and can be contradictory. Like we can laugh and smile when pissed off and cry when we're happy. Aliens or some at least may be confused by this.

Maybe class 1-B can be the aliens??? Or you can mix them up where some are the aliens and some are the humans in 1-A.

You can do a crossover and have aliens from other fandoms/franchises where they can be the aliens or you can flip it and 1-A can be the aliens.

REMEMBER (or keep in mind) that numerous certain things may be or are inherently human and earthly things. Such as particular phrases like ‘pissed off’, technology like fans, several foods, familial structures, pack bonding, art, concepts like sarcasm, inventions like movies, animals, or clothes for humans.

Reverse Human Are Space Orcs

Where an alien is either abducted by humans or crash lands on Earth. Or trafficked by evil aliens, escaping with a pod and crash landing on Earth. Either way they are saved by UA heroes and class 1-A.

They would probably also need to be a deathworlder just maybe not the same caliber as humans? I mean how else would they survive? Maybe deathworlds aren't a thing and humans are just space orcs??

The space government could allow them to stay there to train. If they train to become a hero? I would think that would be the idea lol

They could run through the plot of MHA with class 1-A.

Midoriya would love to study them and ask several questions but would also be happy to help them understand human (and Japan's) customs and culture

Again, I would have Shinsou replace m*ne*a the grapist. Or maybe Shinsou is the alien and a deathworlder who was treated horribly by other aliens who are different species and he thinks Earth will be the same until he's proven wrong??

Or maybe you can have someone else from MHA be the alien like a younger Mirko, younger Ryukyu, Toga (same story as Shin above), younger Mirio, younger Spinner (same story), or younger Magne (same story)

OH or Eri!! And maybe the Shie Hassaikai can be evil aliens?

Maybe a younger Hawks was sent to spy on and infiltrate Earth but they grow on him and he helps them instead. Maybe he's supposed to sabotage them by being able to travel space or just gather their weaknesses or both???

Maybe it's more than just one alien? A teen and an adult? Maybe Eri too?

Free Falling

includes: Dabi, Hawk, Endeavor

warnings: Mentions of suicide, nightmares

length: 1,082 words

There was a gleam in the blue eyes as they gazed over the city from above. The bottom of Dabi's long jacket fluttered against his scarred ankles as the smokey breeze whirled around him. The gut-wrenching smell of decay and burning body's turned the air stale, and his mind numbed as he thought about what he had lost.

It was happening again, history repeating itself as he was left with no solution.

The all too familiar pain, fear, and soul-crushing hopelessness coursed through every fiber of his being while he watched his world burn. 

A snarl sounded from behind him, the demanding voice making his body tense even after all of these years. "Your base is nothing but rubble, your boss is dead, your friends have been locked away in the most secure asylum this side of the world. You have no one else on your side, no more hideaways left standing for you to flee to. Surrender, Dabi."

Dabi chuckled softly, but the sound appeared to be unsteady as he turned to face the person he despised. Blazing blue eyes locked onto the number one hero, his father, Endeavor. 

"Have I ever surrendered to you, Enji? Even after the endless days of training, the beatings, the insults… Have I ever given up?" Dabi breathed, fingers twitching by his side as he started to mentally prepare for the pain his godforsaken quirk brought. 

Endeavor's face hardened and the beard of flames on his face seemed to flare up furiously. 

"Who are you?" Endeavor practically demanded an answer as he stepped closer to the villain. Dabi took a step back towards the edge of the building, determined to keep the distance between them. 

“Isn’t that a shame,” Dabi muttered with a scoff while his hands clenched into a fist. “Can’t even remember what your fucking son looks like, can you? You never did bother to care about such trivial things anyway.”

Endeavor froze almost instantly, his facial features violently contorting into mixed emotions of confusion and something Dabi couldn’t quite place. Was it fear? No, Enji couldn’t possibly fear anything. Dabi had learned that lesson a long time ago after personally putting his father through hell. 

“Touya,” Endeavor’s quiet realization was cut off suddenly by his son's sharp tone.

“You don’t have the right to speak my name,” he spat, blue flames sparking in the palms of his hands for only a second. He grimaced, never breaking eye contact as he spat out blood from the corner of his mouth. “Not after what you’ve done to me.”

Endeavor swallowed around the lump in his throat before moving closer, abruptly stopping when Dabi moved his heels to the edge of the building’s rooftop.

“Take even a step towards me, old man, and I’ll jump,” Dabi threatened, eyes narrowing almost daringly.

And suddenly, Endeavor remembered the frantic, fearful, yet determined look that Touya used to always glare at him with. A heavy sigh left him as he stood tall, not moving an inch as he watched his son closely.

“I thought I had lost you for good,” Endeavor admitted under his breath, watching as Dabi snarled like a rabid animal. 

“You have,” Dabi remarked without missing a beat. “Touya is gone, all thanks to you and your god damned dream for me. You’ve killed him, and nothing you can do will change that.”

“And you’ve killed countless innocent lives,” Endeavor growled. “What did they do to deserve death?”

Dabi gritted his teeth as he forced the tears from his eyes by sheer will. “What did I do to deserve you as a father?! What unspeakable evil did I commit before I was born to get you of all people as a parent?! Mom didn’t do any wrong- I didn’t do any wrong! So why,” His voice broke as he bared his teeth. “Why was I unfortunate enough to have you shove your goals down my throat after you couldn’t achieve them yourself?”

Endeavors throat felt dry as his eyes followed the trails of blood seeping from Dabi’s staples and scar lines. The sudden outburst had torn his burned skin. Endeavor didn’t know it, but this happened quite often, though typically when Dabi was alone.

“I needed to make you stronger,” Endeavor said coldly. What did Dabi expect? He knew his father was heartless.

“So I could fall into the mindless and shitty lives of heroes? I’m glad I passed,” Dabi swallowed thickly before a wicked smile spread over his features. “Tell Shoto to kick you in the dick for me.”

Endeavors eyes widened as Dabi outstretched his arms and fell backward without a second thought. Dabi saw his father’s large hand reach out to grab him, to stop him, and, by everyone else’s definition, save him. Yet Endeavor was too late. Dabi was free falling to his death.

A broken laugh sounded through the air as Dabi relaxed, watching the blood from his wounds fall with him through the air. Smoke was surrounding him as he quickly grew closer to the ground, blurring his vision slightly. 

Someone yelled incoherent words below him, followed by demands of where to stand. Yet Dabi didn’t pay enough attention to understand. The sweet embrace of death he wanted was so close he could almost taste it. His eyes shut gently and he smiled wider than he has before in his short life.

Dabi gasped sharply, bolting upright as his eyes shot open, his fingers twisting in the blanket. He was hyperventilating, body shaking as he failed to get his bearings. The tired grumble next to him slowly brought him back to reality.

“Touya?” It was Keigo, and concern was blending with the fatigue in his voice. “Hey, c’mere… It was just a nightmare. Let me hold you, Staples. Calm down for me, yeah?. I’m right here.”

Dabi swallowed thickly, running a quivering hand through his hair as he slowed his breathing. “Okay,” He whispered, earning a gentle hum from his lover. “Okay,” He repeated, this time more to himself than to the person next to him.

As he laid back down on his side, Keigo threw a protective arm over his waist, and he gazed blankly at the wall. His boyfriend started humming sleepily, making a good attempt at lulling Dabi back to sleep.

Dull eyes started to blur as he laid there limply, the humming failing to distract his mind as he thought. 

What have I done to deserve any of this? The good or the bad, why me?

Feathers

Haha! So, you know how I promised some Aizawa fluff? That’s still on its way, so have some pain in the meantime. 

includes: Keigo, Tokoyami, Aizawa

warnings: Angst

length: 670 words

Keigo was never taught how to cope with the death of a hero.

He was always told that murdering a villain was justified and that it strengthened heroes. That's what the Hero Commission has drilled into him since the first day of training. How would he know any better?

An exhausted huff rocked Keigo's body while he climbed to his feet. Stepping over a piece of rubble, he looked across the settling battlefield. Most of the fires had been put out, and the rescue squad had just now begun their search, despite starting incredibly slow.

The hero didn't blame them though. He didn’t have the right to. The League's attack happened out of nowhere, so no one was prepared. Though, they could stand to work a bit faster.

Most of his feathers had been lost in the fight, Dabi's flames being the main cause. Some were crushed while moving injured civilians to safety, and a few were scorched by Endeavor’s overzealous attacks. He never did receive an apology, but he cheered up by telling himself the man would say sorry later on. 

Oh! That reminded him- He owed Tokoyami cold Yaki Soba for suddenly dragging him into a massive fight.

Where was Keigo’s little apprentice anyway?

Hawks ignored how he swayed and faltered as he walked up a large pile of rubble. He refused to acknowledge the stream of blood running from a gash on his hairline and over his left eye as well. 

From across the destroyed lot, Aizawa found it ironic that Hawks was perched like a bird. The teacher wanted nothing but to flop over and take a week-long nap, but there was still work to be done. Nothing Aizawa could see from this spot could explain why Hawks had stopped working, that fact holding his attention and making him curious.

What was left of Hawks’ wings suddenly gave a powerful flap, sending him dive-bombing towards whatever he had found below. Aizawa decided to investigate, starting his long journey through the wreckage.

Keigo pushed through how lightheaded he felt as his feet touched down on probably the only solid piece of concrete around. He crouched down, knees to his chest and wings folded against his back.

“Feathers?” Keigo’s voice had a questionable lift to it as he addressed Tokoyami.

The high school student was laying on his stomach, one arm stretched out like he was reaching for something, the other limp at his hip. Keigo noticed a small streak of blood leaking from his intern’s beak. Other than the fact that the kid wasn’t moving, Hawks didn’t see any issues. Not that he could see well with all the blood in his eyes.

“Feathers, get up you lazy ass-” Keigo cut himself off briefly with a chuckle. “Sorry, kid, I meant lazy bones. Forgot to watch my mouth, as always”

There was no reply, not even a movement from the limp body. 

“Look, kid, I’m sorry for swearing. Just get up already,” Keigo grumbled, the hero’s arms wrapping around his knees as he leaned in a bit.

“Hey…” Hawks swallowed around the lump in his throat. “Hey, Feathers. You’re starting to freak me out a bit,” A nervous chuckle left Hawks. One of the only fully intact feathers he had left started nudging the boy. “C’mon, get up.”

As the feather continued to nudge Tokoyami, Keigo noticed that the red he was seeing didn’t all belong to him. Tokoyami was laying in a pool of his blood.

Keigo’s eyes widened, pupils practically turning into slits as he flipped the unresponsive boy onto his back. 

“Th-That’s not right... Hey, kid, what happened?” His voice trembled more than his body as he stared at the gaping hole in Tokoyami’s side. 

It was one of the most gruesome things Keigo has seen, and that’s saying something considering all he’s been through. Streaks of pearly white ribs contrasting against the sea of varying shades of red, clumps of organs unnaturally curved around the large rock buried into his flesh and bone.

“You can’t be dead- Heroes don’t die. They just can’t,” Keigo wore a frantic smile as he shook what was left of the teenager’s right arm. “You gotta get up, Feathers. We won… W-We kicked their asses, so- so wake up.” 

Keigo’s voice cracked as he spoke, shaking arms holding Tokoyami’s mangled body close to his chest. “C’mon, kid,” A broken laugh weighed Keigo’s chest down more than the boy he was holding. “Scold me for cursing, like you always do. Call me immature and then apologize f-for being disrespectful. You gotta..! You got to do something- anything!”

“Hawks,” Aizawa’s voice cut through his panic, the teacher’s voice sharp but shaky.

Keigo didn’t realize how loud he was getting before broken eyes looked up at Aizawa. Hell, Hawks didn’t even realize he was sobbing until he was torn from his trance. 

“Eraser,” Hawks pleaded, shuffling on his knees to be closer to the other, the kid being dragged along. “He’s not dead, right? This is all just another test from the Commission, r-right? Yeah,” A broken laugh tumbled from Keigo’s lips as Aizawa fell to his knees. “Just another test for me to pass. Like- Like always.”

Keigo buried his face into Tokoyami’s hardly intact chest, shaking like a leaf in a wind storm. “You can stop now,” He begged, too caught up in his head to notice how Aizawa gripped his black hair so tight it threatened to rip out of his skull. “You can stop the test, kid.”

 The teacher had lost a student- one of his students. The kid wasn’t even 18 yet. He hasn’t lived- and he would never get the chance to. A scream ripped through Aizawa’s throat, emotional agony swallowing him up until it felt like he couldn’t breathe.

“Please… Make it stop, Feathers.”

Tired Chicken Tender Time