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ua-monoma · 6 years ago

Text

.11.15.

It's a villain's quirk.

That's what Shinsou had always told him.

Monoma had always thought it the greatest tragedy. One of the most incredible quirks he's ever seen, squandered and dashed to nothing after an unimaginative society's constant and tortuous goading. The potential it has, to use a certain mentor's favorite word. The sheer ability to do so, so much good. In his eyes, Shinsou has always held back, daring not to cross too far into that darker territory, despite all the power he could have gained doing so. He'd always hated that.

In fact, he's always wished he'd had a quirk exactly like that. It'd be perfect. It would suit him, even with all the baggage and pain attached. Perhaps especially so. Honestly, at some point in his life, he'd truly thought it worse to be called powerless than to be called a villain.

Maybe he still thinks the same way.

Kaitou has his quirk now. He holds it in his hands, in delicate tufts of lavender hair. Unlike Shinsou, he's long since forgotten the fear of losing himself, to the dark, to the power, to anything. He's already lost. Already broken. What's left for the world to take from him? Not much.

But what is left for the world to give? Everything.

A smile trembles its way onto his lips. He bites it hard, forcing his expression into submission as he waits for him to arrive.

@v-deku

That entire day, MIDORIYA IZUKU had felt... off. He wasn't sure why- one of those days where a dark cloud clung to his mind that he couldn't escape. Maybe it was the night he spent with Hawks the other night- a terrible night it was.

But, these days... when are they not terrible? Ha ha.

Deku always holds an air of calmness despite his circumstances- when he sees Monoma, standing there silently, his first reaction is what he always gives- a smile. He puts his hands behind his back, eyeing him up and down as he speaks, trying to read him.

"...Monoma neito.

You look like you've been waiting for me."

Kaitou hates him.

Just the sight of him lances through him, old panic and terror, rotting screams slamming gnawled fists against his ribcage. The air decays with Deku's aura, reaching for him with ruining claws. He feels sick. He's so tired of being scared. Of being the victim.

Of not fighting back.

He tilts his head to the side slowly, considering the words. He hates hearing his name. It doesn't belong to him anymore, it doesn't fit right, it - itches. Yes. Itches and electrocutes, all at the same time. Slowly, he mirrors Deku's stance, his own loaded hands placed gently behind his back.

"And if I was?" he asks softly, giving the purple strands a squeeze. "You wouldn't mind that, would you?"

Deku considers the boy in front of him something special. He always has. And laying his eyes on him now, nothing has changed. He could feel the sinister energy radiating off of the other- the malice, the hatred. Every instinct in his body tells him to run- that he's in over his head. For real this time.

And yet.

He steps forward, breathing out a sigh before smiling.

"Of course not... you know how much pleasure your presence brings me.. love."

Kaitou scoffs, chuckling to himself, feeling something distant splintering off and away.

"Love," he repeats quietly.

And then he pulls him under.

He can already feel the power of Hitoshi's quirk as it surges forward and takes control. Floodgates seem to slam open and into place, his own will floods forward, strong enough to sweep away any individual thought Deku could have possibly had. He seizes his mind carefully, curling around it, savoring every second of the sight of his eyes going dead.

It's so much stronger than he's used to. Kaitou bites away another smile.

"Show me your hands," he murmurs to him, a simple order, just to test.

Love is the last thing he hears before his mind goes numb. Any thoughts, wants, or needs, are instantly forgotten. His vision blurs and crackles, everything darkening except for him.

His god.

Mouth falls open softly and with a blank expression and no semblance of emotion, he holds out his hands.

"..."

A grin splits across his face. Monoma reels a little, a giggle slowly and suddenly bubbling up.

"Ah... haha."

He touches his head, fingers digging to where he could still feel the whirrling buzz of a drill at night. "Hah... oh wow..."

His breath is coming out fast, hitching like he's winded, excited. There's this ecstasy, just from watching him, mixed with relief and sickness and something else. Something he's never quite indulged in, something he's chosen to never name until now.

"Wow..." Kaitou whispers with a small nod of his head. "I could kill you."

He giggles again, closer and closer to a manic peak. "I could - I... I've thought about doing that every night since it happens. I'm sure you know that. That's what you've always wanted, right? Hehe... I could do anything to you and you'll love it, isn't that right?"

He's rambling. Stalling perhaps. Savoring it. He laughs again, just a little, quiet little snickers that he curls into himself for, holding himself together before they shake him apart.

And then he raises his eyes, focusing on him again. "Break all the fingers on one hand," he demands suddenly.

As he gives the order, his mind buzzes and pulsates like a beehive. All he sees are words- they pop up like a flashy billboard in vegas. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. BREAK ALL THE FINGERS ON ONE HAND. They're insanely annoying, and they just keep popping up, one after the other. The only way to get rid of them is to do it. And so silently he goes, one by one. He grabs his thumb with his other hand, and - SNAP. A noise comes out of his mouth, but it sounds muffled. He holds his index finger, bends it back until... SNAP. He yelps, louder this time, like a frightened animal- as if being caught off guard by the action. He bends his middle finger back until- SNAP. Tears start to run down his eyes, his face still devoid of emotion. Ring finger. SNAP. He is breathing heavily now, hunched over, as if he just went on a long run. And finally- the pinky finger is the easiest. He bends it back until- SNAP. His knees grow weak and buckle, but he is still standing. Tears pour down his face and his left hand hangs there- limp and useless. ...And he waits for his next order.

Kaitou gasps at the first snap. "Oh-"

And the next and the next and the next following it, Kaitou's arms wrapping around himself tighter and tighter, trying to keep the laughter in but he can't. As tears start to flow down Deku's face, he starts to giggle again, feeling near blinded by a rapturous light that overtakes his mind. It's nothing like the martyrous anguish he's been living in. It isn't complicated like the twisting and violent masochism that coiled and clutched to his past victimhood like thorny vines. It feels so good he can't take it, overwhelmed, not understanding why he's ever tried to stray from this- this perfect feeling. That something else.

It's sadism. Pure. Simple. Addicting.

"Oh... wow..." he sighs out as Deku finishes. "Wonderfully done... Hey, are you awake in there?" he suddenly and excitedly asks. "I hope you are~... 'I need you to feel all of this...' Do you remember telling me that?"

He rocks on his heels, too elated to stand still. "What else did you say? 'No matter how much you beg'... Why don't you do that for me, mm?" His eyes flash with a sudden glee. "It's horrific, isn't it? Watching yourself do all these things? I want you to feel that horror... Yes. Beg to be free while you make yourself bleed. Ahaha... Oh! Use this!"

He snatches a blade from a nearby table, something almost harmless, a small pair of scissors that he shoves right into his broken hand. "Don't make it fatal yet, I want this to last..."

He is awake in there, but he wishes with everything he has that he wasn't. He stares, wide-eyed, at the blond as he laughs.

It was like... Looking into a mirror.

Something rests at the corner of his consciousness, a little pocket where all his emotions are forced into with nowhere else to go while he's in this state. They read, not necessarily in order; Fear. Anger. Shame. Guilt. Despair.

But fear- that's the biggest. The loudest.

As he shoves the scissors into his broken hand, on instinct he tries to curl his fingers around them, only to let out a strangled gasp, whimpering and crumbling to his knees. Slowly, his hand shaking, as if trying- somewhere in there, to fight it so desperately, he takes the scissors with his nonbroken hand.

His mind crackles and fizzes, and like a cage being opened just a crack- one emotion is allowed freedom from that pocket in the back of his mind- fear.

"P...please...."

His hand trembling, he begins to swipe at his left arm, thin lines of red forming along them in a nice even pattern.

"Pleas..e... let .. me go."

His voice comes out strangled- like a robot with low battery. His head is bowed, entire frame trembling as he works his way up his arm until theres simply no more room left on his arm to cut. Tears are cascading from his face now, snot bubbling from his nose as he sniffs, gasps, and cries from the pain.

"Pl...please... please....please....."

Inside, the buzzing gets louder. More intense. His chained up consciousness bangs and rattles at the bars of his cage, trying desperately to escape.

"Please. Please. Pl - e ase. Let me go. P. l . e a s ...e..."

"No."

Kaitou sneers with the rejection, and then suddenly he's surging forward, leg lifting up, heel suddenly coming down hard, right into his face. He kicks Deku's down from his knees, onto the ground, smashing his shoe down and grinding his head harder into the floor as he pins him there, and then he lifts his leg again and brings it down, again and again as he shouts.

"No. No, no, no! No, I won't! I won't! Hahaha!"

He suddenly places his foot right on his neck, delicately perching right against his throat as he just barely presses down, pausing as he hopes to continue to hear that same stream of strangled, rattling pleas. Humming in satisfaction, he tilts his head again, placing a hand to his chin as he suddenly thinks.

"My... Hitoshi-kun's quirk is impressive, isn't it?" he mutters with distant praise for his friend. "You must be in agony right now and this control over you hasn't broken for even a second! He mentioned cutting your tongue out once before, didn't he? What a tempting thought..."

He tilts his head over in the other direction, twirling a lock of his growing hair around his finger. The action seems to spark his next thought, as he pauses with a light gasp then opens his fingers, remembering the clump of hair he still holds.

"... Hmmm..."

His eyes drift over to his other hand, which he opens as well, revealing another clump, near identical to the first.

"... I wonder..."

He smiles dazedly. "There's so much value in utilizing different samples... Every alternate is different, aren't they, Midoriya-kun...? Some of them have worked so hard to become powerful..." The true Izuku flashes to mind, a bitter tinge in the memory of inky tendrils suddenly destroying everything they can reach.

"You know..." he murmurs, voice lowering. "Your quirk has always disappointed me." He lifts a hand, showing him what he holds. "Would you like to see what this other one is like? Tell me, what are you thinking right now... Should I?"

Deku's vision goes white as he's knocked back. Mangled gasps try to free their way from his ribcage as he sputters blood- as he's SLAMMED by a foot. His consciousness rocks back and forth, comes to only to be slammed back again and again and again and again and again.

By the time it's over, his nose is broken, and he's missing his front tooth. He sobs and cries, and as Monoma brings his foot down over his throat, they bubble in and out pathetically, voice raspy and barely audible. "P...l...e ....a...se....."

Inside, a memory plays- like a tape recording; old, dusty, forgotten. Two voices- one is his own; much younger. And the other- his late mother. He can't see her face ; it's as if it was blurred out- censored.

"They're bad people, Izuku!" "They're not! They're just trying to fight for equality! Ever since I was little... I've been treated like g a a a a ar bage. Quirks are - st upid." As the memory plays, it's harder and harder to hold onto, almost as if it's being ripped from him. It sounds like - a broken record. And it skips ahead. He still can't see her face, but he can tell she's on the floor, sobbing. "P _ lease don' --t d o.. this . Yo u can... Y_ou c _a _n .. s t i ll go bac-"

Back in the world, Deku chokes on blood, and sobs, his eyes blank, but still full of fear. When he opens his mouth to speak, his voice is broken and weak.

"I a m thin...king... abo...ut... n..no... " He tries to swallow another sob, before he opens his mouth again.

" P _le.ase.. don't d..do ..th..is.. Y ou can- you c..c can still . go > bac > & k&.... pl ease . please. please. p le ase. p pl ease. p p pl p p pl e ase.

PLEASE!"

It's a little too easy, which almost takes the fun out of it. He switches Hitoshi's quirk off, releasing its hold on Deku and freeing it from the trap of his own body, right as Deku's bloody lips part to speak. Then he grins with pleasure, pressing the second sample to his smile in a firm kiss, clutching onto this new and warped quirk that he drags into himself, holding onto it with unabashed greed.

He's so excited. The blue of his eyes dull rapidly into a ravenous gray as his control over him slips around Deku's brain anew, worming into every crevice. It's almost terrifyingly intimate, how much stronger this connection is. He wonders if Deku could feel him now, reaching in.

"Oh..." he says softly, voice coming out a shaky whisper. "What are you saying...? Go back...?" A dry laugh, barely audible now as he trembles. "To what? I haven't... changed... I'm still..."

A hero, that forbidden concept that tastes wrong, twists and curdles, pulled away with the hooks of an old promise.

"... a god, unless you claim me mortal now, I'm still as I've always meant to be. I'm still... giving you... a villain," he laughs, "what he deserves... Mm..."

He tightens the coil, wondering. It's strange, it feels so strange, he suddenly wants to... press down... and squeeze... His foot applies more pressure on his neck, his smile growing, his body shaking all the more as he tightens his grip on the sample.

"... You should thank me..." he whispers, power dripping from every word. "This may very well absolve you yet. You feel very ashamed of yourself, right? Thank me. Apologize. Repent. Feel it with every fucking cell of your body, Midoriya."

For a split second, he saw freedom. The buzzing ceased, color returned to his vision, he saw Monoma fully, in all his glory. Above him.

Where he belongs.

And then- just like that; it was gone. And the buzzing was back this time, but this time, it was different. When Monoma speaks, it's like he's speaking from inside his own mind, his voice bouncing off skull, surrounding him, enveloping him, piercing him.

"I' m.... "

He chokes out pathetically, straining to speak with a foot over his windpipe.

"I'm s ssorry y .. .. I'm s s s s or ry... "

Another memory clouds his vision- this one is also broken, and painful; his first kill. There is a man on the ground. Middle aged, plain looking. Nothing special. His throat is slit, and there is blood pooling underneath him. He is dying, slowly. Except, he can't hear any voices this time, just the sound of his own thoughts- back then.

It has t o be done. It has to be done. He is bad. I am good. He was bad. He was bad. He did bad. He d i d bad. He is a v i l l a i n. I a m a h>ero . I AM A HERO.

The memory is gone, replaced by his own mangled sobs- the irony being that he's in the exact same position that man was.

"I .. d d..des s.ee r ve. T_ his. I d>] es erv , e this."

He struggles to breathe as his form begins to write underneath him, like a worm. He can't cry anymore- he swears he's out of tears. "T ->hank .. y&ou... "

"..."

The smile slowly starts to fall. Strangely, like he's almost forgotten to continue holding it in place. Kaitou grips the sample tighter, removes his show from his throat, stares at him, expression almost mystified.

"I wonder if you still love me," he whispers.

Love me, his thoughts repeat. It's a command, impaling itself into place within Deku without even needing to be said.

"I wonder... Have you ever felt so awful?"

Love me.

"I wonder why..." He pauses, contemplating the feeling as he allows the vicious pump of endorphins to ravage Deku's brain and body. Twisted, perfect masochism, the same as he's ever felt, better. He pours it all into him, his own face blank as his control tightens around him even more.

"You're so sure that we'll die together. Why is that? Tell me... Do you know something I don't?" He laughs without humor. "Can you even say it?"

He falls silent. What comes into his mind next is less of an idea, less of a conscious thought, almost a dream in a way, one of the last few technicolor images before one opens their eyes back to reality. He follows his ghost of an urge automatically, unquestioningly, swept up in his own trance of power.

Puppet strings seem to tug at Deku's hands in that instant, demanding.

...

Bring the blade to your throat.

His thoughts swirl with visions of Monoma, next. Image after image fills his brain. Monoma, above him, under him. Monoma happy- sad, nothing, everything.

"I do love you."

He squeezes out with no hesitation, as if it's something he was dying to say. I love you, I hate you. And everything in between.

When he demands Deku to tell him what he knows, his face breaks into a smile. Broken. agonized. And he feels the endorphins pumping through him; his body screaming for more. For more pain, more despair- this is what he wants. This is what he NEEDS!

Slowly, his hands come up to hug himself, laughing softly- though it's hard to tell them apart from sobs.

"Ever since I met you, I ... can't explain it. It's like I've seen you before, but I don't know where. .. A voice... in my head told me the steps necessary to make you into.. a god . I didn't know why I needed to do it. I just.. haha.."

He coughs up blood, it splattering disgustingly out of his mouth.

"I knew I had to. I've .. seen you before. Not here. In .... hh .. s .somewhere else. I never wanted to be .. connected to you like this. It doesn't .. even.. make sense. And . I've seen things .. in my dreams. Visions of you.. becoming .. this. And other things , all .. involving you. And.. a ..and me . At different times , d...dd...d different ages. In different places. I don't c.. claim to understand it."

He breathes out a wheeze as he brings his blade up to his throat, his hand trembling. His smile falters, and falls.

"It's not that we die together . That can happen. I'd rather that.. happen. But usually..."

He presses the blade to his throat with a gasp as blood starts to trickle softly. And then he closes his eyes- as if accepting it.

"Y.. you.... kill me first."

"Huh..."

Kaitou crouches besides him as he listes, resting his chin against his hands as he props them on his knees. He doesn't react to the sudden spatter of red that splashes his face as Deku suddenly coughs up the blood he's been drowning in. As he finishes, he just looks - vaguely unimpressed.

"You ruined me for such a stupid reason as that..." He reaches out, touching a finger to the scissors he still holds. "Dreams," he drags his touch over the first loop, "visions," he moves over the second. "... Delusions..."

He wants to crush him. He wants, practically feels, practically tastes the leak of red as he keeps squeezing and coiling through his mind, wondering what would happen if he just...

"... I will kill you. It's your own fault..."

... keeps...

"... Dying like this..."

... squeezing...

"... is a mercy."

As the other talks, Deku begins to tremble again. His visage shrinks, lower and lower. He suddenly has the urge to bow beneath him- bow so hard HE BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF BREAKS IN HALF. He --wants-- to needs to worship him. Love him, worship him. Worship him. Worship him. A strangled gasp gurgles from his throat as his eyes pop open in a last burst of sudden adrenaline that he can't do anything with- so tragic. TRAGIC.

"It'-s . My own fault . .. ."

He can feel the other's will crushing his own, choking it- suffocating it. "P l..e eas e... " Blood flows from his mouth like a waterfall. His body convulses and twists unnaturally, letting out a loud scream as he tries desperately to free himself- a bird thrashing around recklessly in a cage. "LET ME DIE."

The sudden shriek from him makes Kaitou jump, dull eyes widening, pupils shrinking to nothing as he shakes with the feeling, his own soul throttling Deku's from existence--

He------------

...

... flinches, watching the blade suddenly jerk in Deku's hands and gouge a shallow line right across the side of his throat.

And - and and and and and.

Deku chokes, and gurgles, as blood spouts from his throat in a sea of beautiful red.

He feels the hold on his mind suddenly release and his consciousness come through- and all he can do is scream, and cry. He falls to the ground, holding his throat, trying desperately to hold the blood inside his body. His pupils are flitting back and forth wildly before landing on the blond. "I - " He sputters out in between sobs, rocking on the ground softly, hands to his throat. His voice is filled with malice, pain, heartbreak. And again- fear.

"... I hope .. you're happy."

Kaitou is further soaked in hot crimson, then. It soaks into his hair, covers his face, paints every inch of his skin. Life sparks in his eyes again as the connection suddenly breaks. He watches Deku crumple and break and cry and break and break.

"Ah..."

It's awful.

"Ahaha...."

He fumbles, nearly stumbling back, then crawling closer, clutching at himself, suddenly searching-

"Aha... HAHA haha..."

A camera whips forward.

"Hehe... .heheh..." Kaitou starts a frantic recording of what's in front of him on his phone, biting down on his fingers with his free hand as he fights a delirious fit of laughter, making clip after clip. As he forces another few seconds of calm in him, he suddenly clutches at his hair as glee seems to burst from him wildly, a hideously loud cackle leaving him before he's finally able to shudder towards silence again.

He smiles, biting shakily onto his lip. "I am... I am! This-" His breath hitches as he giggles again, hysterical at the sight. "This is the happiest day of my entire life!! Hahaha!!!"

Monoma's voice fades in and out, in and out again. He looks at the phone pointed at him with dying hatred in his eyes, unbroken hand clawing at the ground, broken hand still over his throat as he tries, and fails, to keep the blood in his body.

... One last memory flashes through his mind. It's - a picture , clear as day, of him. As a child, no more than let's say... 6 years old. He sits in front of the TV screen. The smell of food being cooked wafts in from the kitchen. On the TV screen is the words INTERVIEW WITH A VILLAIN. A man, locked up in high security, speaks to the camera calmly as someone else asks questions.

"What made you lash out like this?" "What do you mean?" Well, everyone has a story, right? What turn of events led you to becoming a villain? Did something bad to you happen as a child?" "I had a rather excellent childhood." "So then... what was it?" " I think.. you misunderstand. This is the problem society faces today. The people you call 'villains'- they don't require a tragic upbringing to do the things they do. Morality like that will get you in trouble. See, what one might view as inherently a bad thing, someone else might view it as a good thing. And vice versa." "I.. I don't understand." "Of course you don't. Barely anybody does. Humans are fine tuned to view everything as either black or white- barely any room for gray areas. Gray areas like me. And, if there's anything I learned, it's that no man is created equal, despite what anybody might say. And that's why... I'm going to keep fighting."

The boy in front of the TV studies the face of the man on the screen- he swears he's seen him before.

"Izuku! T- turn that off! It's time for dinner..."

The memory fades. Slowly, Deku takes his hand off his throat, going limp, accepting defeat as the blood now flows freely from his neck onto the ground and his vision begins to fade. As it does, he gives Monoma one last look, before uttering, brokenly:

"I.... HATE you."

Monoma's face falls. He lets his phone drop, not even caring as the screen gets wet with the spilled blood covering the ground.

He watches Deku going limp. Life fades from him. The pool of red around him grows bigger and bigger.

He tilts his head, thinking.

"... You lied to me."

He frowns. "You told me you'd love me no matter what. I do one thing to you... One thing..." A hiccup of a laugh leaves him, another miserable burst of giggles interrupting his words. "And suddenly that's what you say to me...? You've wasted your last words on that...?"

A sulk reaches his lips as he winds a lock of his hair between his fingers. "How unfair...Ah, that's so unfair... That's not what I... wanted..."

He grits his teeth, expression hardening as he continues to twirl and twirl that lock of hair around. All the glee inside him is poisoned now, tainted, he hates this... hates....

Frustrated, he finally lets out a loud huff, searching his clothes. Eventually, he draws out a silvery hair, coiling it tight around his finger. "Fine," he snarls out, though his expression softens with his decision and he sighs as this soft new quirk settles inside him, loving and caring and kind. "Fine... Deku-kun..."

He leans in, a curl to his lips as he approaches the gaping wound in his throat. "I'll do my duty... and let you make it up to me instead..." He smiles. "Then I can just kill you and kill you again until you get it right... doesn't that sound nice? Aha..."

He brings his lips to his neck and lets his body figure out the nightmarish strain it takes to form a gnarled, scabbing scar right into place, sealing the rest of his reformed blood in. He pets his hair after, kissing it again without the power attached, and again and again, sighing with pride as he waits for Deku to awaken again.

He was so close. For a split second - for once, he felt ... at peace. A warmth engulfs his body, briefly.

Briefly. And then, jarringly, he's forced back into consciousness, in the arms of the boy who he thought- he swore killed him. And all he can manage to get out is a weak "No..."

He doesn't have the energy to cry. This wasn't supposed to happen.

Weakly, the boy lifts his arms, trying, pathetically, to push the other's face away from him.

"Let.. me... die."

Kaitou hums to himself, ignoring his struggles as he nuzzles back into place. His arms coil around him tight, clutching onto him like a monster seeking to drain every last bit out of him.

"I'll let you die when you earn it," he murmurs happily, lost in the rush of it all. "Until then, spend every second like this... in... my... debt... Haha..."

And he's so happy.

As Deku lies there, limp, he stares at the ceiling- eyes empty; devoid of any color- of anything.

Nothing runs through his mind- not a memory, a thought, some fucked-up, twisted defense mechanism his brain came up with to shield itself- comfort itself, soothe itself.

It's just... cold. And dark.

There's.

Nothing.

Left.

All he can feel is the pure malice radiating off of the one who saved his life- this...

...hero.

#monoma.docx #dead end.arc #deconstruction.arc #v deku #captivity.arc #apotheosis.arc #[[ hwow ]]]

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ua-monoma · 6 years ago

Text

END.p3

@v-hawks

The hideout is... disgustingly familiar.

Monoma eases the door to it open slowly, listening to the creak. Nothing is left behind as he pulls away from it, the blood on his hands already too caked and dried to leave much of a mark.

Time has passed. He can't tell how much. It had been light when it had happened. And the hideout is dark.

It's quiet.

Monoma looks around for a few seconds. Then his breath hitches and he just sinks down where he's standing, curling up just besides the door with his dirtied hands covering his dirtied face. He doesn't move.

Hawks hears the door open from another room. It's nothing abnormal, everyone was in and out all of the time, but it still always catches his attention.

Especially now. Especially with how slow the door opens. How careful.

He slips out from where he had been, looking around the corner. Seeing Monoma sink down. It's sad, and pitiful, and just like Monoma. His head tilts to the side to rest on the wall, still watching, a relaxed smile on his face. He felt at home. He's silent and undetected for a long while, admiring the blood covering his boy. What he must have gotten up to...

That thought is what makes him push off, approaching him on light feet, sitting beside him so he can pet his hair.

"Hey."

Voice as soft as he could make it, he brushes dried blood away, revealing the beautiful color underneath.

Monoma flinches at the first touch. "Nh."

In an instant, red wings burst from his back again, thrashing violently. They settle within the second, curling up around him. Shielding him for the most part from Hawks as he curls up all the more, burying his hands in his dirtied hair next.

His mouth moves. No sound comes out.

"Ah..."

Hawks frowns as the wings bat at him and shut him out, forcing him to move away as they calm down and shield Monoma. Sighing gently, he stands, observing, only to sit back down in front of the boy and pet one of the wings carefully.

"Are you okay?"

His fingers are kind as they brush across the softer feathers, down to the longer, bigger ones at the end, toying with them gently before moving back up to start the cycle over.

Flinching again, Monoma moves to hug himself. The feathers grow stiff and sharpen under Hawks' fingers with a little ripple, unconsciously resisting the comfort.

"... You were right," he croaks out after a moment. The wings disappear, replaced by a sudden flurry of green scales that stretch over his fingers and along his hands, glittering and sharp. Without a second thought, he pierces into his own arms, blood gushing into dirtied fabric. He doesn't wince, continuing in a low whisper.

"I'm... I'm not a hero anymore..." His eyes widen and he digs the claws into himself harder. "I can't be a hero anymore. I can't be a hero anymore. I can't be-"

"Neito.." Hawks breathes, reaching forward again to hold his face when his wings have fallen away. He's leaning over him, in his space, but still trying to be non-threatening. Small. "Neito, it's okay..." His free hand moves over the one digging into Monoma's arm, trying to allow him to let go of himself.

"It's okay... you're okay," he brushes a thumb over the back of his hand as he starts pulling it free, kissing him before he could say another word.

Monoma drops his mantra to whimper a little. When Hawks kisses him, he makes another little jolt of a sound as the claws are pulled from his skin. The green vanishes with his firm touch, wings flashing back into place again, shuddering and tense and drooping low. He holds himself still, not reciprocrating, eyes only widening, body trembling like an animal trapped.

Hawks pulls away a moment later, sad to lose the taste of blood from Monoma's lips. He always enjoyed it, especially from his boy, who had practically addicted him to it.

But he isn't going to push too hard if Monoma doesn't want it. He doesn't want to scare him off. Instead, he lays his head on Monoma's shoulder. "I'm sorry," is all he says before he lets silence take over, waiting for Monoma's next move.

Monoma shivers under Hawks' weight. He feels Rin's scales rustling under his skin, begging to be released again. His whole body burns with it, this urge to force Hawks' blood to join the rest of the teeming mess on his skin. Everything itches. He feels so dirty, so dirty, so, so, so...

His breath hitches again, escaping in a little shudder before he sucks in a sharp inhale. "But you're happy-"

He wants him dead.

"You're happy I can't go back-"

He wants to die.

"I can't go back and you-" His breath hitches again. "It's all your fault. It's-" His breath hitches, he's hyperventilating. "My fault. I- I did this- I want to go back-" He starts to cry softly, tears dribbling down his cheeks. "I want to die, I don't want to be like this..."

Hawks pulls away, concern fallen on his face as Monoma starts to ramble, dragging himself down into his thoughts again. It happened so often, and all it did was sadden him more. He was such a mess. Such a mess...

He shakes his head.

"No, no..." He whispers, "No.. I've told you before, I want you to be happy..." He isn't touching Monoma anymore, sitting back, letting him have his space. "If this isn't what'll make you happy you can leave. I promise, I'm not trapping you here..." His gaze drifts to the side before it comes back to Monoma. "I love having you around, but I don't want you miserable. I just.. want you to be comfortable... If you leave I won't even tell anyone what happened."

Monoma listens, shutting off inside again as Hawks goes on. He hates how it feels, emotions suddenly damming up inside him, making the tears still sliding off his cheeks feel especially disgusting and wrong for continuing to flow nonetheless. It makes him feel crazy, all this internal back and forth. He shudders, wings curling around him all the more.

"... What happened..." he mumbles, "... is that I can't... pretend to be a good person anymore. I can't. And I tried to... " His breath shudders out of him in a sad chuckle. "I tried to fit in, be like everyone else, show I could be worthy of adding something good to the world, too. But it never mattered. Fate wouldn't have it. I've always been..."

He pauses, staring off. "I've always been doomed to this. I thought, maybe if I became a hero..." Another little laugh. "But that- that doesn't matter either, does it?" He clutches to his hair, raving again, fast and frantic. "Even those lauded as beacons of light and hope can't escape the depravity of the world. Is it just me-? Is it- all of us? Just unable to stop ruining and destroying each other, I'm so sick of it. Sick of hurting, hurting people-"

Monoma stops suddenly, relaxing.

He stares down at his hands, then brings them down to pet one of his wings, mimicking the way Hawks had caressed them earlier. "I'm trapping myself here," he murmurs, blank eyes following his fingers as they travel down and up, red moving along red. "Here, I'll get what I deserve." His hands slow, resting along a hollow bone. "I'll be the only one hurt," he concludes and grips down until he snaps the bone in two.

Hawks listens, saddened by the overwhelming thoughts Monoma was listing off. It's always hard, having to watch monoma as he seems to rapidly cycle through everything he could possibly feel. Every paranoid thought. Trying to keep up with him enough to adjust reactions properly makes Hawks sit back and listen, concerned, and quiet, waiting for Monoma to spin down and stay somewhere.

It ends up being somewhere he doesn't want him to be at all.

He gasps, reaching out to hold his hand just as it snaps the bone. "Neito-" The sound it makes has his wings fluttering, like they could feel it as well. "Hey.. hey," He tries to calm his own voice down, make it softer "...let me help you..." He tentatively repositions, hand out for his face instead, gauging the reaction, seeing how far he can go. "Let me help..."

A few soft whines leave him, like a wounded dog too scared to yelp out. Monoma tenses slightly as he's reached for, clinging harder to himself, unwilling to let go. His grip only tightens, slowly crushing the broken flesh and feathers he holds as the whines get a little louder, a little more urgent as the pain sinks and bites into his nerves, before he finally relinquishes it to grip onto him with bloodied fingers.

He looks at Hawks, a little frantically, a little blank, a memory of ripping playing once more in the back of his head, and then he leans into his touch once he's close enough with another tiny whimper.

"... kiss..." he mumbles vaguely, closing his eyes. "Can you kiss me..."

Monoma crushing the bone harder under his fingers makes Hawks frown, trying to keep his hand steady as he waits, because he knows. Knows very well that Monoma is going to reach out, hold him, desperately, if he gives him enough time.

And he does.

Desperately.

Of course.

He's beautiful.

Hawks grips his hand back, just as hard, feeling the blood smear onto his own fingers, looking into his eyes as he stares into him, and Hawks knows he's so scared, looking for answers. Looking for him.

He smiles at the request. Quickly leans in to catch his lips before he can even finish, sweet as he squeezes his hand, mumbling a soft "of course," as he moves his mouth with Monoma's, lovingly.

#v hawks #monoma.docx #END.arc #dead end.arc #corruption.arc #dismemberment.arc #integrity.arc #darkness.arc #cursed.arc #[[ so many arcs... came together... in this thread... wow.. ]]#kaitou.docx

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