ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ꜰʟɪɢʜᴛ.

        “i thought that was you ! hey, whats about you & i catch up. my treat !” 

           “ah. what's with that face?” the moment comes & goes, and still, hawks is barely holding back an amused grin. “c’mon kid, it can’t be that bad.” 

            “oh, well if it isn’t tokoyami. what are the chances?” all things considered, the chances were actually abnormally high, considering the fact that hawks rarely ever stepped foot on yuuei’s grounds. so, here he is. grinning down at his favorite birdman from 1-a. “how about some lunch --- it’s about that time, right?” 

@bannibrand   / WAS THIS A MEME ????? 

          sharp tendrils of PAIN lick through the membrane of his left wing. agony bleeding into his system from the ruthlessness of his best friend. oh, he can feel how EACH feather is yanked from their quick beneath her unforgiving fistful. it’s as if she forces the entirety of her weight into the action. digs in and in until there’s nothing left to latch onto and god, he can even feel the way they twitch under her palm, velvet feathers sluicing between her fingers at his mental command in a means to lessen the building pressure. 

          he won’t blame her for it. won’t complain.———because admitting or even vocalizing his betrayal could potentially compromise his entire position, and ultimately derail the mission. it really only left one option: endure. 

          miruko’s other hand presses flat to the body of his other wing. the warmth of her palm sending an involuntary shudder down the length of his spine; a sensation that had once been elicited in warmth and comfort now only brought forth a sense of foreboding. 

          hawks’ spine CRACKS. his face suddenly jolted forward as she FORCES HIM face first into the asphalt with a cry of confused ire sharp on her tongue. “WHY? ——–HOW COULD  YOU, HAWKS?” is seethed into the embrace of scarlet down. absorbed right into their plumage. 

          he can’t answer her, and they both know it. he won’t risk it. but the fact that she’s using her HANDS instead of pummeling him into the rubble with those legs tells him just how deeply his betrayal’s cut her. his nerves are set aflame as the cartilage fractures beneath the girth of her hand it sinks into his head like cotton. clouding his vision and stealing his breath. but, he takes that too. takes it with a swallowed grunt and a sharp intake of air through his clenched teeth. the abused wing in question quivers beneath her wake as it adjusts. 

                                but he’s had just about enough.

          he breaks her grasp / his wings unfurling to their full length with enough force to shift the cars on the pavement up onto the shoulder. he feels more then sees the release of her bulk on his person, and the second he’s free of her encumbering weight, he SOARS. slinks out from the cage of her hands and into the air. one hand automatically coming to hover above a primary. 

he’s your dad. boogie woogie woogie

the day hawks became a father at 22 / @boydazzle

…………………

A sigh is given before she shoves some pasta in her mouth, swallowing it with only a few chewing motions. “It’s alright. It comes with the job, I suppose. I like to have some time to myself away from work, though; it’s why I have a pseudo-undercover identity at all.”

She placed the fork down on her plate, the fingers on her cheek tapping with thought. “Though, I don’t see why you would need me of all people to talk to.”

@boydazzle , oh ! 

           it’s  not  subtle,  and  even  without  his  mental  link  to  each  feather  nestled  comfortably  against  his  back,  he  still  would  have  noticed.  not  that  he  minded  ------  far  from  it  in  fact.  hawks  turns  on  a  dime,  a  wing  quirking  up  over  the  boy’s  head,  caught  red  handed  ( ha,  get  it? ),  but  the  look  he  pins  the  aspiring  hero  is  nothing  but  amused.

          wings  of  crimson  fold  in  around  them  over  the  moment  he  lands.  a  shield  erected  by  mental  will,  and  while  he  can  feel  the  bite  and  cut  of  iron  wrought  bullets  against  steeled  feathers,  they  remain  nothing  more  than  a  plucky  annoyance  in  the  wake  of  it  all.  hawks  grins  down  at  her.  a  lopsided,  absent  thing  that  couldn’t  light  a  candle  to  the  sharp  prowess  of  his  stance. 

          he  shifts  her  closer  to  his  chest,  a  hand  finding  home  against  the  back  of  her  neck  ---  cradling  her  head.  “sorry  princess,  the  skies  are  a  mess.”  that  grin  of  his  slips,  and  his  gaze  lands  on  her  beneath  the  plumage  of  red  securely  encasing  her.  “how bad?” 

         he   shifts   ---  feathers  ruffling;  the  only  tell  of  his  brief  guilt  before  a  hand  falls  on  the  back  of  the  chair  opposite  of  her.  “well.”  he  starts,  pulling  the  object  back  far  enough  to  take  him,  wings  and  all.  &  he  drops  down  with  a  certain  grace,  and  settles  right  on   in. “i  had  reached  out  to  U.A.  but  you  know;  that  went  so  well.”  a  pause.  “still,  sorry  about  the  random  ambush,  kayama.” 

        so  he  wanted  to  fly,  huh?  not  that  he  could  or  would  ever  blame  the  kid  for  that.  not  when  the  act  of  flying  brought  forth  a  sense  of  freedom.  when  he  flew,  he  felt  at  home  ----  like  he  belonged.   hawks  grins,  and  offers  the  aspiring  hero  an  easy  shrug. 

        “ah,  well,  all  you  had  to  do  was  ask.”   &   with  that,  those  wings of   crimson  unfurl  /  feathers  catching  the  wind  as  primaries  and  secondaries  ruffle  in  absent,  habitual  preparation.  “don’t  scream.”  is  really  all  the  warning  hawks  gives  the  kid  before  he’s launching  from  the  ground  like  a  rocket  with  one  mighty  flap.

            a  favor  was  a  favor,  and  one  heralded  by  a  tag-team  duo  of  all  might  and  eraserhead  was  one  that  was  incredibly  hard  to  turn  down.  “mornin’  little  lady,  you  ready  for  the  big  day?” 

“ —- Help yourself.” It’s strange. He finds that he doesn’t have much of an appetite, but is more or less resigned / content toward the other’s company. Slowly, he sips at his tea before speaking once more. 

“I DISLIKE being off-duty for so long. Furthermore, I can’t stop thinking about that villain. The one they call Dabi. I need to track him down.” 

            oh,  he  does,  and  there’s  no  shame  in  the  way  that  he  drags  endeavor’s  plate  a little  closer  and  happily  digs  right  in  with  a  contented  noise.   it  was  a   MISTAKE   though;  because  the  second  he  shoves  another  gratifying  bite  into  his  mouth  is  the  same  moment  in  which  endeavor  decides  to  open  his,  and  it  turns  everything   SOUR. 

            “you’re  lookin’  good.”  hawks  comments,  even  makes  it  a  point  to  let  his  gaze  linger  against  enji’s  face  before  resigning  himself  to  look  elsewhere.  he  schools  his  expression  into  something  neutral  after  that  and  leans  back.  his  prize  now  abandoned  in quiet  disgust  on  the  table. 

Katsuki stopped his line of thought and stared at the PRO-HERO with a very serious stare. He did not understand the JOKE, and something in him was getting IRRITATED… was it that he didn’t feel any professionalism from him ?   (  probably, who knows.  )   he knew, it was that. It felt too INFORMAL for his taste.   “ Nothin’, sir. ”