#hawks needs a hug

[cuspidgoddess]

My first baby, my first love will always be you ♥️

[stray-cattt]

The Rooftops That Cry at Night

A Boku no Hero Academia/My Hero Academia angst fanfic, hurt/comfort, lowkey vent fanfic, if you’d rather read it on A03, here’s the link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/45798712

Summary: Just because Dabi is a villian doesn't mean he's going to leave the #2 hero alone breaking down on the verge of a panic attack. He may be an ass but he's not a complete asshole. Might be a bit out of character but I don't really care, I started this fic at 3 AM because someone was playing the flute outside of my dorm and I couldn't sleep. I originally posted this on March 16th, I just forgot to put it here.

Content warnings: panic attack, break downs, and age regression a bit (as a coping mechanism)

 Hawks glanced at his alarm clock that read 3:21AM; letting a sigh leave his mouth he turned off his 4AM alarm for patrol before turning to his balcony. Dressed in his hero attire that he hadn’t taken off in the past two days he took a deep breath before jumping off the balcony and letting his wings spread. Hawks shivered as the brisk night air hit his face. It was nights like these where he flew aimlessly with no destination in mind, just flying to fly. Well not entirely, flying to stop the pounding in his head from his thoughts. The thoughts that were never ending swirling around in his mind. Hawks mindlessly scanned the terrain he passed, even though he didn’t have patrol for another hour he couldn’t find it in himself to stand still for a minute more. His body ached to move, to do anything, to be useful. If he wasn’t working, did he really hold any value?

 Tonight was quieter than normal, not much seemed to be going on, and it seemed that even the villains had laid down to rest tonight. Something that Hawks craved but remained out of reach. It’s not as though he hadn’t tried sleeping, but every time he felt too restless to stay still and allow himself to relax. Over the past week, he maybe got a collective 21 hours of sleep if he was being generous, lately, the commission had been on his ass with more missions and patrols barely leaving enough time for him to take care of himself. Not that he had the energy to in the first place.

 Hawks sighed, boredom seeping into his bones accompanied by a familiar sense of loneliness. The usual mind-numbing feeling that tended to follow him with these flights seemed to be absent as his thoughts continued to berate him. He felt his insides shake and decided he needed to find a spot to land before he lost control of himself. He landed on the rooftop of a building, unaware of a familiar figure sitting on the opposite side of the roof as his mind seemed to blur out the rest of the world around him. Hawks’ breathing started to rapidly increase as his emotions overwhelmed and enveloped him.

 His knees buckled and he ungracefully knelt down on his knees before hunching over and wrapping his arms around his torso. His body shook as his wings wrapped around himself, Hawks could feel the tears pricking at his eyes. As much as he tried to keep them within the confines of his eyes they fell and continued falling like rain onto the concrete roof. Shallow sobs left his mouth as his mind went into hyperdrive.

     Imagine if your handler saw you like this.  

     What would the commission say about this behavior?  

     Pathetic really how little it takes to break down like this,  

     I thought you were supposed to be a hero.  

 Thoughts continued to swarm him and rally up against him, but before falling into even more of a hyperventilating panic the sound of footsteps approaching him caused him to halt his sobs. Hawks tried to hold himself as still as he could while quieting his shallow breaths to the best of his ability. How long had they been there? How had he not noticed? Hawks cursed his lack of sleep slowly catching up to him, this wouldn’t have been a problem for any other hero, why is he faulty?

 “Hawks?” A familiar voice asked quietly, he would’ve described it as gentle had he not recognized who the voice belonged to. Hawks felt physically unable to give a verbal response back, and when he tried all that left his mouth was a pitiful whine.

 Hawks flinched as a hand lightly touched his wings, but slightly relaxed at the warmth it was emitting before quickly tensing again as he remembered who he was dealing with. Although Dabi had not given off any hostility so far, Hawks still felt on edge. He briefly forgot about the hand on his wings until it moved away, he held back a whimper as the hand was retracted and his breathing began to pick up once again, not realizing how the hand had been grounding him.

 Noticing this Dabi put his hand back on Hawks’ wing and began to pet it trying to comfort the other. Hawks’ feelings were conflicting with one another as he couldn’t tell if it was safe to relax. Safe. When was the last time he felt that, infancy? More treats began to pour from his eyes as tremors ran through his body.

 “Shhh, breathe birdy,” Dabi whispered, trying to get the other to calm down. Hawks’ hands moved from around his waist to clenching his pants as he tried his hardest to stifle the never-ending cries leaving his mouth. Slowly he got his breathing back to normal and all that remained of his tears were hiccups.

 After some time he managed to pull his wings away from his body, no longer shielding himself from Dabi’s gaze. Dabi repositioned himself in front of Hawks carefully noting the noticeable eye bags that weren’t as prevalent the week prior when they met for information exchange, well more Hawks giving information and Dabi giving nothing in return. He carefully swept Hawks’ hair out of his eyes and wiped a stray tear from his face before bringing his hand back. Dabi didn’t miss as Hawks slightly leaned into the light touches. After observing the other Dabi opened his arms for Hawks inviting him into his arms but not moving forward leaving the choice entirely up to the other.

 With slight hesitation Hawks crawled into Dabi’s arms, tears immediately brimming in his eyes as he now realized in full force just how touch-starved he was. Feeling the tremors emitting from Hawks, Dabi wrapped his arms around the other and began to comb his hands through the blond's hair.

 “It’s okay baby bird,” Dabi whispered to the other, Hawks whined in response and grabbed at Dabi’s shirt holding onto him as though he was a lifeline. The two sat there together in silence that was broken apart by sniffles every so often. Dabi hummed a song his mother once sang to him when he was young, a song he had almost forgotten but remembered in the moment.

 “Don’t wanna be a hero, just wanna be a kid again.” Hawks meekly spoke, his voice cracking slightly as he hadn’t used it in hours.

 “You don’t have to be a hero right now birdy,” Dabi replied, his humming coming to a stop. “I’ll take care of you, you need rest more than you need to be a hero right now.”

 Had it been colder that night Dabi might’ve been a bit worried about the other falling asleep on him, but the cold night air was gone now, replaced with air that felt like a light blanket surrounding the two. Not soon after Hawks’ cries died down, soft snores followed, his hands no longer clutching at the others' shirts. Dabi let a genuine smile adorn his face as he held the other now propped up against the wall of the ledge.

 “Sometimes all you need is to be held.” Dabi smiled once more before letting himself fall asleep with the other.

[silvfyre-writings]

Aizawa Cares Pt. 11 (MHA Fanfic)

One day I will understand that tumblr is more than posting work. But that day is not today. Enjoy the next part!!!

If there was one thing Aizawa hated more than villains, it was the stupid parties that the Hero Public Safety Commission organized. Not only were these events busy and loud, they were a massive target for the villain organizations that had the guts to attack a large group of heroes. Yet the HPSC seemed more than happy to ignore that in favor of cramming a bunch of heroes into a large room together. Heroes with a wide variety of quirks and personalities. It was a recipe for disaster and he was surprised that something hadn’t happened sooner. Although it had come close last time when a newbie hero had openly mocked Endeavour, and the fiery man had almost set fire to them all in response. It was lucky he’d been there to erase both party’s quirks before things escalated.

Maybe that was why he was always invited to these parties.

So naturally, when he received an email with an invite to one such event, his first reaction was to sit and stare. Once he’d actually processed the email, his head dropped, hitting his desk with a loud thunk, and he let out a groan.

“Everything alright, Shouta?” Hizashi’s hand appeared on his shoulder, squeezing it gently, and despite his friend not saying anything, he knew that his friend was reading the email. “Ah. I wonder why they keep inviting you to these things.”

“It’s to make me suffer at this point, I swear.” Aizawa grumbled into his desk, frustrated that the people in charge of heroes didn’t seem to understand that the whole point of him being an underground hero, was that he stayed out of the spotlight. Never mind that he just hated crowds in general. “Did you get an invite?” Having Hizashi with him was bound to make the event so much easier to handle.

He heard Hizashi hum from beside him, hand still on his shoulder, as he pulled out his phone and checked his own emails. “Yep, I got one! I’ll ask and see if anyone else was invited. Did you want to go together?”

“Sure.” Aizawa sighed, finally lifting his head. “Find out if anyone else has been invited. I need to know if I have to arrange for another teacher to stay at the dorms while we’re gone.”

Aizawa sunk down in the seat of the car as he and Hizashi approached the building that the party was being held in, wishing more and more that he’d had the guts to just refuse the organizers. Already there were plenty of heroes, dressed up in fancy suits, dresses, and other types of formalwear walking into the massive hall that had been decorated for this event. Some of them Aizawa recognized, but most he did not. The downside to being an underground hero.

“You okay, Shouta?” Hizashi asked from beside him, dressed in a nicely pressed black suit, hair styled in a half-bun, and regular glasses on his face instead of the flashy ones he usually wore. He looked nice. “Who did you get to watch the dorms while you were gone?”

“Ectoplasm.” Aizawa answered, reaching up to readjust his tie, even though he knew it was perfectly done. After all, Hizashi was the one that had dressed him and if there was one thing that his friend was good at, it was fashion. If he hadn’t had interfered, then Aizawa probably would’ve just gone in his hero costume. And that wouldn’t have gone well. “The kids asked if he could be the one.”

“Well that’s good! Means they’re trusting in their teachers more.”

“I suppose.”

“But you’d still rather be the one to look after them, right?” Hizashi grinned at him.

“Yes.” Aizawa huffed, only slightly annoyed at how well Hizashi could read him. Only slightly because it certainly came in handy at times, like if Aizawa got angry and tried to fight someone when it clearly wasn’t the best decision. He really was blessed to have such a good friend.

Silence fell upon the two heroes, Hizashi navigating his way into the nearest carpark. Aizawa took a deep breath to steel himself before climbing out of the car. Tonight was certainly going to test his patience. Thankfully the media that was hanging around the entrance was more focused on Edgeshot, who had just arrived, giving Aizawa and Hizashi the chance they needed to slip through unnoticed. Momentarily blinded by the bright lighting once they got inside, Aizawa stopped to blink until his eyes adjusted. He looked around the room, taking in the decorations, and the massive amount of heroes already crammed into the space. It had him wondering how many sidekicks were being left to man the agency’s so that their bosses could come to this party. The answer was; probably a lot.

He recognized many of the heroes that were gathered in groups, quietly chatting amicably amongst themselves, everyone being polite and cordial, even if they didn’t usually get along when working. A few of the heroes spotted Hizashi and promptly flocked towards his friend to speak with him. Aizawa stepped away, not wanting to get dragged into conversation, but stayed close enough that if he was needed, he’d be there. Although his friend was quick to catch his gaze and wave him away, signaling that he’d be fine on his own. So with only a slight amount of hesitation, did Aizawa quickly walk off to find the quietest place possible that he could observe from, if there even was such a place.

Salvation came in the form of the bar that only had a few heroes lingering around. Probably because the drinking would come after someone announced the party had officially started. Aizawa sat himself at the bar and quietly ordered himself a drink, not intending to get drunk, but also wanting a bit of alcohol in his system to handle the party. Next time, he was rejecting the invite. A sudden, excited yelling from the entrance had Aizawa looking up, and immediately frowning as he recognized the massive form of their Number One hero. And just behind him was Hawks, the mans bright red wings tucked so close behind him, it almost looked like he didn’t have wings. Great… Aizawa turned back to his drink and slouched. He doubted the two heroes would take the time to come bother him, although he wouldn’t put it past Endeavour to harass him about his son, especially since the kid was currently ignoring his father’s attempts at communication. And if Aizawa had encouraged that decision, he wasn’t going to admit it.

“What kind of event is it this time?” Aizawa asked the bartender, downing the rest of his drink in one go. He didn’t ask for another.

“It’s a unification event, I believe.” The bartender reached over to take the glass. “The HPSC is trying to get heroes from all over Japan to form connections with each other, in order to help curb the spread of villainy. Another?”

“No thanks.” Aizawa refused the offer of another drink. “And they think a massive party is the way to go?”

The bartender shrugged, serving a few other heroes that had discovered where the bar was. The man called over his shoulder. “Apparently. I just work where I’m told, sir, so I don’t pretend to understand the motive behind these events. But even I think it’s not the best of ideas. I hope your quirk doesn’t end up being required.”

At that, Aizawa looked up. It wasn’t often that civilians recognized him after all. “You know who I am?”

The bartender noticed his confused expression and explained. “I work in the shitty part of Musutafu. I’ve seen you in action.”

“Ah.”

An entire hour had passed before Hizashi managed to make it back to Aizawa’s side, the man quick to order himself a drink as he leant against the bar. Aizawa watched him with a bored expression. The event was in full swing now, all the invited heroes having arrived and greetings been exchanged. Since most of the heroes in attendance appeared to be young adults, the HPSC had catered for that, having loud pop music playing over speakers and a dancefloor on the other side of the building. Thankfully, the bar was as far from that as possible, meaning it was blissfully quiet… well as quiet as it could be at least.

“I thought you liked socializing?” Aizawa smirked as Hizashi knocked back the drink and asked for another. He quickly tacked on a drink of his own to the order, happy to enjoy sipping on one with his friend.

“There is socializing. And then there’s that.” Hizashi huffed, sliding into a recently vacated seat. “I think they invited all the young heroes who’ve recently debuted. And I will admit, I don’t even know who half of them are. Is that bad, Shouta?”

“You’re doing better than me. I don’t think I know anyone other than the top ten. I’m amazed they’re all here actually.”

“Jeanist and Musha aren’t here. So not, the entire top ten.” Hizashi pointed out.

“One. Jeanist is on medical leave still. Two. Can you imagine Musha coming to an event such as this? The man has better things to do.” Aizawa argued. He couldn’t picture any of the top ten willingly attending an event like this, except for maybe Hawks and Mirko, but he wasn’t going to tell Hizashi that.

“Touché. Are you going to hide here all night?” Hizashi asked. “Because if you are, I’m going to go enjoy the dancefloor.”

“Going to put all these young heroes to shame?”

“That or embarrass them.” Hizashi laughed as he finished his drink and got ready to leave. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Aizawa grunted and went back to his drink. There was absolutely nothing that would drag him from this chair before the time came that he could leave. Although, he figured that the least he could do was keep an eye on his friend, in the event that something happened. Despite the amount of people that were in the building, he was still easily able to see Hizashi, although that probably had more to do with his friend’s chosen hairstyle than the amount of people in the building.

In keeping an eye on his friend, Aizawa was able to observe the rest of the room. He spotted Endeavour in the corner of the room that was as far from the dance floor as possible, looking like his typical angry self. Although it appeared the man was at least trying to be sociable and was talking with some other heroes, one of them being Mirko; if the rabbit ears were anything to go by. Looking past the group, he spotted the quieter heroes, such as Manual and Kamui Woods, hanging and quietly chatting amongst themselves, many of them with drinks in their hands.

A commotion from the dancefloor drew Aizawa’s attention over to it, and he frowned when he noticed that something had knocked over a bunch of people. Yet despite the felled people, others were still trying to get at whoever, or whatever, was at the center of it all. It was behaviour that didn’t belong to heroes, yet was the behaviour that happened when alcohol was involved. That was when he noticed the bright red wings that were tightly wrapped around their owner, which was enough to send Aizawa to his feet.

Navigating the crowd with ease, he pushed past everyone that dared to walk in his path, ignoring their complaints and exclamations in order to continue on his path. As he got closer to the dance floor, the noise increased to the point it was starting to make his head pound. How could these people stand such a racket? Pushing aside his discomfort, Aizawa forced his way through the crowd, snapping at anyone that dared to try and shove him back, until he was standing beside Hawks’ curled up form.

“Out of the way!” He snapped, elbowing someone that dared to touch the hero who very clearly, did not want to be touched. Honestly. No situational awareness at all. How did these people become heroes? The crowd didn’t take to his dismissal and began to get even rowdier than before. Aizawa noticed Hawks visibly flinch and that was all it took for anger to fill his entire body.

Salvation came in the form of his best friend.

“Hey, hey, listeners!” Aizawa heard Hizashi’s voice echo from elsewhere in the room. It was hard to tell from where, but it was appreciated all the same. “The bar would like to remind you all to stay hydrated and is offering a free drink of your choice to everyone in the building, but only for the next twenty minutes! So let’s stop the dancing and get some drinks into you all!”

And just like that, the crowd’s attention was drawn and began to disperse, although some still lingered on the dance floor. But it was empty enough that Aizawa felt that he could breathe again, and he only hoped that Hawks felt the same. He knelt beside the Number Two hero, unsure of what could be ailing the man, but knowing that he needed to get him off the floor and away from prying eyes.

“Hawks, it’s Eraserhead.” Aizawa’s made sure his voice was calm and quiet. “I understand you don’t want people touching you, but I’m only here to help. I only wish to move you somewhere quieter.”

Silence followed his offer, and he almost thought the young hero hadn’t heard him at all, when finally, a slight nod came from Hawks. And that was all Aizawa needed. Quickly, he hooked his hands underneath Hawks’ shoulders, and dragged the hero to his feet, finding himself supporting Hawks’ weight almost entirely as the man fell against him. Stumbling back a few steps, Aizawa quickly righted the both of them before dragging Hawks in the direction of the building’s bathrooms. No one followed them, and the moment that they were inside, Hawks shoved him away and once again, collapsed to the ground. Aizawa scanned Hawks’ body in case of a hidden injury, yet noticed nothing out of the ordinary other than the heavy tremors that wracked the man’s body. He could hear Hawks’ breathing picking up, the hero’s chest heaving as he gasped for air.

A panic attack.

Aizawa pulled out his phone and quickly shot a text to Hizashi, telling him where he was and to keep everyone away from the bathrooms until further notice. Once that was done, he shoved his phone back into his pocket and focused all of his attention on Hawks. He wasn’t the best at dealing with panic attacks, that was a job more suited to his friendlier co-workers, but he knew the gist of how to handle them, and had dealt with many—both his own, and his students—before. So he drew on those experiences in an attempt to bring some comfort to someone who was in desperate need of it.

“Hawks.” Aizawa crouched beside Hawks, who curled up into an even tighter ball, red wings thrown to hide himself from view. Aizawa simply let it happen. “Hawks, I need you to breathe, okay? Even just a single one.”

A keening noise was the only response he was given, the tremors increasing. Aizawa’s worry increased, knowing that if he didn’t get Hawks to control his breathing soon, the hero would pass out.

Aizawa decided in that moment to take a gamble, and moved to the one gap between Hawks’ wings and the floor. If this didn’t work, then he had no doubt Hawks would either shut down completely or lash out at him, neither option being the man’s fault. He sat on the floor and stretched himself out, just barely being able to see Hawks’ face. One hand reached out beneath the gap and gently touched the back of one of Hawks’ hands. Golden eyes flew open, and Hawks’ body stilled immediately. The hero wasn’t breathing at all now.

Aizawa tapped the back of Hawks’ hand with one finger. “I’m not going to hurt you, Hawks. I just want you to take a breath for me.”

Hawks continued to stare at him, unblinking, for several seconds like he was waiting for something. Aizawa took an exaggerated breath to try and coax Hawks into following, pleased when he saw the man take a nice deep breath, which was all it took to bring Hawks back. The man’s eyes blinked, and he slowly moved his hand to grip Aizawa’s own, the grip bone-breaking tight. Aizawa hid the wince that tried to break out, and just squeezed gently. He continued to breathe evenly; his own gaze fixated on Hawks’ chest, watching it rise and fall. Who knew that you could shock someone out of a panic attack?

Silence blanketed the both of them, yet it wasn’t an awkward silence, or even a tense one. It was the type of silence that happened when words weren’t needed. Aizawa watched as Hawks looked away from him and finally moved his wings to that they weren’t hiding him from view anymore, and watched as Hawks’ body slowly began to relax. Although the stress grip on his hand remained.

“’m sorry…” Hawks rasped. “You can go.”

“No.” Aizawa was quick to shoot the suggestion down. No way was he going to leave Hawks on the bathroom floor. “I’m not going anywhere until you’re alright. Present Mic’s running interference to prevent anyone from coming in here, so take all the time you need. Besides, you’ve trapped my hand.”

“Oh. Sorry.” Hawks just blinked at that, like he couldn’t believe that someone actually wanted to help him. It had Aizawa remembering that the Number Two hero wasn’t that much older than his own students, and that Hawks hadn’t gone to a hero school like most heroes. He’d been picked up by the HPSC and who knew how they trained heroes.

“It’s fine.” Aizawa soothed, speaking to the hero like he would to his students when they were distressed. “Do you need anything?”

Hawks shook his head, still refusing to look at Aizawa. “I’m supposed to be stronger than this.”

“Everyone has their moments of weakness. There’s no shame in that.” Aizawa squeezed the hand that was still gripping his own, finally drawing Hawks’ eyes to look at him. “The trick is knowing that it’s okay to ask for help when you need it. So I’ll ask again. Do you need anything?”

Hawks was silent for a moment, clearly thinking over Aizawa’s words. But it appeared that whatever he’d been taught was stronger than Hawks’ own needs. “I’ll get in trouble if I’m gone too long.”

“Forget the Commission.” Aizawa huffed. “They aren’t here right now, and if they say anything, I’ll take responsibility for—”

“Why?” Hawks interrupted; his voice small. “Why are you doing this?”

“Because I care, Hawks. From my point of view, you were forced into a situation that overwhelmed you into a state of panic. Which is a cruel and heartless thing to do to someone, regardless of how popular they are as a hero. You’re allowed to say no, Hawks. You’re allowed to ask for help.”

“Oh…” Hawks’ eyes gained a distinct shine to them, which Aizawa avoided staring at lest he make Hawks feel self-conscious. “Um… you’ll help… me?” The question was hesitant and quiet, as if this was the first time Hawks was truly asking for someone to help him.

Aizawa nodded. “Of course.”

“How?”

That wasn’t what he’d expected to hear. Aizawa blinked and spoke carefully. “Well, you can talk to me about what happened. Or if you want to leave, Present Mic and I can get you out of here without anyone knowing. Or I can just sit with you if you think you’ll be able to handle the rest of the party. It’s your choice, Hawks.”

Hawks looked both thoughtful and uncertain at the same time, and Aizawa had the feeling that this was the first time that someone had truly offered help to Hawks. And it hurt a little to know that the hero felt the need to hide this vulnerable side to him, especially when all he’d ever seen before was the energetic, carefree persona that Hawks showed to the world. He wondered what Hawks’ life had been like before he’d become a hero, although he wasn’t going to question the man about it tonight. Not when he was still recovering from being overloaded.

Finally, Hawks answered. “I want to leave.”

“Okay. I’ll call Mic.”

It took a lot of maneuvering and careful diversions, but Aizawa and Hizashi successfully managed to get Hawks out of the building with no one the wiser. It had been difficult, when Hawks had flinched away from all forms of physical contact, which Aizawa didn’t fault the man for at all, yet Hawks had apologized all the same. So he and Hizashi had waited for Hawks to get his legs underneath him, and they’d thrown a jacket over the wings that were tightly tucked against Hawks’ body. Although the moment the jacket had touched the feathers, Hawks’ face had paled, and he’d looked like he was about to pass out, so Aizawa had made the execute decision to cause Hawks some distress in order to bring relief, and dragged him out of the building and towards the car. It wasn’t something he’d wanted to do, and it pained him to cause someone deliberate harm, but at that moment, he hadn’t seen a better option.

Hawks practically flew into the backseat of the car once they’d made it, curling up as far from Aizawa as possible, and staring at him with a look of betrayal, body shaking once again. Guilt filled Aizawa’s body, and he threw the hero an apologetic look as he climbed into the passenger seat, but remained silent otherwise, knowing that words weren’t going to help in this situation. Hizashi quickly situated himself into the driver’s seat, and after shooting their unexpected passenger a concerned look, started the car and pulled away from the party. Thankfully, his friend had the sense to keep the radio off, and although slightly awkward, the silence was appreciated.

The entire drive home, Aizawa kept throwing looks over his shoulder at Hawks just in case the hero’s condition changed. The sudden, but subtle change in Hawks’ breathing pattern when they were halfway home had Aizawa tapping the seat just in front of the hero and silently offering his hand once golden eyes were looking at him. Hawks blinked once, looking much younger than he was in that moment, and tentatively reached out to grab Aizawa’s hand, and then latching on tight. Aizawa ignored the discomfort, just glad to bring some comfort to the other.

This was all unfamiliar territory to Aizawa. While still young, Hawks wasn’t one of his students and that meant that he had to treat the situation with delicate hands. If this had been one of his students, Aizawa would’ve known exactly what they needed to overcome it. But he didn’t know Hawks all that well. All he’d seen in that moment on the dancefloor was someone in desperate need of help, with him as the only one offering it. Was it because Hawks was the Number Two hero? Or was it the Commission’s influence? Either way, it made Aizawa’s hatred for the rankings grow even stronger. Heroes should never have started being ranked. It just caused more problems in the end.

“We’re here.” Hizashi’s voice was quiet and subdued, yet soothing at the same time, as he turned the car off. “I’ll head inside and get the couch ready.”

“Okay.” Aizawa waited for his friend to shut the door before shifting in his seat to look at Hawks. “Do you feel up to heading inside?”

Hawks’ grip on his hand tightened before the hero let go of it, his own hand thumping against the edge of the seat. The man looked exhausted. “I guess.” Was all Hawks said.

“Do you need help?”

“I’m not a child.” Came the slightly annoyed response.

Aizawa ignored Hawks’ tone, used to worse from his students when they were in a bad mood, and just shrugged. “That’s fine. But you can’t stay in the car. It’ll be warmer inside.” He climbed out the car himself and waited by the entrance for Hawks, watching as the man seemed to have some kind of internal battle with himself before emerging from the car, much steadier on his feet than he had been when they left. Aizawa opened the door and ushered Hawks inside before entering himself, stepping past the hero when he stopped in the entryway.

“The living room is through that door there.” Aizawa pointed to the door on the left. “Bathroom’s the last door at the end of the hall. Would you like to have a shower?”

Hawks quickly shook his head. “No. But I’d… I’d like to get out of this suit.”

“Here.” Hizashi appeared from around the corner, a bundle of the softest and fluffiest clothes in his arms that Aizawa knew his friend adored. “You can borrow these while you’re here. I made room for your wings as well.”

“Oh… you didn’t have to do that.” Hawks’ eyes were wide as he carefully took the bundle from Hizashi. His eyes grew even wider once he realized how soft the material was, running a finger across the shirt in awe. “Thank you.”

“It’s no problem at all!” Hizashi gave Hawks one of his signature smiles before gently shooing the hero towards the bathroom. “Go get changed, listener, and don’t be afraid to take as long as you need.”

Once the door shut behind Hawks, Hizashi turned towards him with sad eyes and opened his arms. Aizawa sighed, but still stepped forward to let his friend embrace him. It wasn’t something he engaged in often, but physical contact was one of the ways Hizashi would calm himself down after something upsetting happened. It just so happened that Aizawa was almost always the one closest when it was required.

“He’ll be fine.” Aizawa said quietly.

“I know.” Hizashi sighed. “I’m just sad that he was put in such a position that we had to essentially rescue him. Is that what the Commission’s really like?”

“I don’t know. We don’t deal with them much.” Aizawa pulled away and made his way into the living room. “Not much we can do other than be there for him when he needs the help.”

“Aww, Shouta, are you adopting him?” Hizashi teased as he followed Aizawa into the room, making is way to where the extra blankets for the couch were stored.

Aizawa glared at his friend, not even bothering to dignify his friend with a response. Instead, he took the blankets from Hizashi and got them settled on the couch, ready for Hawks to use. Afterwards, he left the room, heading towards the storage space where they usually kept the spare beddings—pillows included. It seemed that Hawks was partial to soft things, so Aizawa made sure to pick out the softest of the pillows he owned. Making his way back to the living room, he could hear Hizashi’s voice speaking quietly, although he couldn’t discern what was being said. And upon re-entering the room, he was greeted by the sight of Hizashi, his arms wrapped around Hawks, who was now dressed in the clothes he’d been leant. His friend was talking about nothing in particular, his voice being kept low and soothing in the way he usually did when dealing with the victims of villain attacks. Aizawa noticed that Hawks’ shoulders were shaking slightly.

“Everything alright?” He asked.

“Yep!” Hizashi smiled over the top of Hawks. “Just some emotions running their due course. Which of course, hugs help with! So, we’re hugging.”

“I see.” Placing the pillow on the couch, he moved to place a hand against Hawks’ shoulder. “Do you need anything?”

A single eye glanced towards him. Hawks shook his head and pulled away, sitting down gingerly on the couch. “No, I’ll be okay. I… appreciate your help. I’m sorry I lashed out at you before. You were just trying to help me.”

“It’s fine.” Aizawa sat on the armchair across from Hawks. “You didn’t want to be touched and I ignored that. If anything, I should be the one apologizing.”

“Ah… no, it wasn’t your fault. I let myself get overwhelmed in the first place.” Hawks sighed.

Aizawa frowned. “You didn’t let yourself get overwhelmed. Sensory overload isn’t something you can control.”

“Sensory… overload…?” It was Hawks’ turn to frown, although it was more of a confused look.

“It’s when your senses get overwhelmed out external stimuli.” Hizashi explained. “It’s different for everyone, but the experience is similar in most cases. Touch, sight, hearing; they can all get overloaded and that causes your body to just shut down basically.”

“Oh…”

Sensing what Hawks was thinking, Aizawa was quick to speak. “Overload can happen to anyone. It doesn’t make you weak if it happens to you. It’s quite common for it to happen in crowds, though. And it’s okay if you don’t handle it well when it happens.”

Hawks just nodded.

“I’ll leave you both for the night. Night Hawks, night Shouta.” Hizashi waved at the both of them before leaving the room, leaving the door open.

Aizawa watched as Hawks shifted on the couch until he was lying down, head resting against the pillow, and drawing the blankets up and over his body, effectively hiding himself from the world. Aizawa bit back a chuckle at the child-like behaviour, instead turning the lights off and getting himself comfortable in the armchair, fully prepared to watch over Hawks for the night, just to make sure that the hero was safe.

“Eraserhead…?”

“Hmm?”

“Thank you.”

[ryuichifoxe]

Reunion

[theflamesofruin]

I can't be the only one who wants to give this guy a hug right?

[agent404-storm]

[feelingpure]

Grateful that Hawk transitioned from "hanging around a bunch of queers" in the 1950s, "guys like you" re Skippy 1960s, "homosexual" in the 1970s, guess he would say he is "gay" after what he told his daughter about Tim. Grateful for personal growth.

Watching the personal growth of both characters has been really interesting, for different reasons. And how they influenced each other's growth. 🥹

But Hawk's battle with/rejection of who he is was something that stuck out in the 60s/70s era. When Tim replied to him "you mean men like us" in the E6 post-shower scene, and how he responded to the whole homosexual vs gay thing in E7. It highlighted how Hawk tried for so long to remove/distance himself from others of the same sexuality.

And I wonder how much of it was sub-conscious, and how much was conscious self preservation. He was quite calculated about a lot of things, so I'm sure most were fully conscious (like the 70s convo). But after rejecting it for himself for so long, some comments were probably just said as a reflex without much thinking.

Him being honest and open with his daughter in those last moments of E8 felt like a breakthrough. It's of course really heart breaking that that didn't happen earlier on, but I'm also really grateful for his journey. ❤️

There are many times I want to grab Hawk by the shoulders and shake him while crying, but then other times I do wanna reach out and just hug him. 🥺

[squash1]

declan/ronan just dropped and i am destroyed.

i will never be over these assholes.

[thedragonagelesbian]

thought too hard about how cyrus sustains his sense of self through his physical intimacy with others and i

[definitivelynotanalien]

Dragon Age 2 spoilers ahead!!

Imagine trying to do what's best for your baby brother even if it hurts you, you give him his space and then you allow him to come with you on the expedition you've been trying to fund for months because he wants to and you won't tell him no, your relationship is so strained it borders on hatred and resentment but you love him so so much you might die for him

And then you come back alone.

How do you tell mother?

How?

You're supposed to keep moving, but your world has shattered, your want to allow him freedom has led him to his untimely end

It's your fault

You keep going, barely. You'll never be yourself again, you're scared of letting go of your friends, you'll follow their every step, you haunt the halls of your own home because the house is more alive that you ever were and ever will be

and you try to act like normal

your friends can tell, they choose not to talk, afraid you might shatter

but the world keeps moving

it's scarily empty

and yet so terrifyingly filled with people you care for

you could loose everything

and it will be your fault

[cuspidgoddess]

@tellingandyelling this is for you: Gotta follow the brain rot 🍭🧟‍♀️ 

[slightly-teambuilding]

Make for «fandom Moon Knight 2022» to «Fandom Kombat 2022»

[silvfyre-writings]

Clipped Wings (MHA Fanfic)

This was an effort to write and I still don't like it much. But I hope that y'all do!

The first thing that Hawks became aware of on his fight back to consciousness was pain. It was a burning pain that reached deep. He could feel his muscles and his bones aching fiercely from the pain and quickly decided that he didn’t like it. Hawks tried to move, but found that he couldn’t; he couldn’t even twitch a single finger. It was then that the rest of his senses seemed to come back online, although everything was foggy. He could hear muffled voices surrounding him, feel what must’ve been hands touching his body, moving his limbs and wrapping something around his skin. Bandages. His mind supplied, finally letting out an involuntary twitch as the material irritated his already hurting body. The voices stopped and he felt someone run their hand through his hair, the normally soothing motion leaving a burning sensation in its wake. He couldn’t help the whimper that escaped him, his throat protesting the motion entirely.

“Hawks? Are you back with us?” He heard someone ask. At least, that’s what he thought they’d asked. His mind appeared to still be struggling to process everything, so the words didn’t quite register with him. Even if they had, Hawks wasn’t sure he could respond. The pain was just too much. It was all he could focus on, yet a part of him was telling him to try and focus on literally anything else. But he couldn’t. The burning was overriding all of his senses, demanding his attention. It was growing, spreading, like he was on fire again. He felt a single tear drip from his eye, the liquid agony against his burnt skin. No more tears followed, leaving Hawks to question whether his tears had been burnt away, along with his wings.

Oh god, my wings. It was his first conscious thought, and that was all it took for his mind to focus on the fact that his wings were no longer on his back. The familiar weight of his feathers was gone, and all that was left was the deep burning sensation that he couldn’t escape from. He couldn’t even feel the little nubs that were usually left behind whenever he used all of his feathers, further reminding him that what had happened was far from a ‘normal’ situation. He’d been burnt, badly. Hell, he’d nearly been killed by the blue flames he could still see from behind closed eyes. Yet somehow, he’d survived, although right now he wished he’d been killed, if only to escape the pain.

Relief came in the form of something pricking his skin, and then he was floating away into the darkness, finally free of pain.

The next time Hawks regained consciousness, he found that he was still blissfully free of pain, and that he could actually open his eyes—well, one of them—this time. His right eye blinked slowly, refusing to open more than halfway while his left remained closed, refusing to obey his commands. An irritating beeping noise made itself known to Hawks and he slowly shifted his gaze to the side to see that he was hooked up to one of those machines that hospitals used to measure someone’s vitals. I’m… in a… hospital…? Hawks’ mind was still running at half the speed it normally was, a layer of fog making it hard for him to recall what had happened for him to have ended up here.

“It’s good to see you’re awake.” A familiar voice came from where Hawks couldn’t see, but when he went to make an attempt to move, a hand was gently placed on his shoulder. “Hold on a second. Don’t move.”

Hawks just blinked. He didn’t think that he could move even if he wanted to. His body didn’t really feel like it was there, and considering the amount of effort it was taking him to keep one eye open, he didn’t even want to think about how much it would take for him to turn his head. He could hear shuffling before the bed dipped and a familiar face appeared in his line of sight. Someone he hadn’t seen since he’d ‘killed’ them.

Best Jeanist.

Hawks let out the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he recognized his fellow hero, who thankfully looked relatively unscathed in the aftermath of the war that they’d all just been through. Best Jeanist continued to sit there on the edge of his bed, just staring at him with that all-knowing look the hero always wore. It was unnerving to have it turned against him, like his entire being was on display. Hawks suddenly felt the need to speak and tried to force his mouth open to speak. To say anything at all. Yet all that came out of his throat was a weak croak.

A hand touched his own. “Don’t force yourself, Hawks. You were badly hurt.”

Hawks gave a slow blink, confusion on his face. His memories surrounding the war were still foggy, although he remembered enough to know how he’d ended up in the hospital bed. He would’ve been a fool to not know. The faint burning of his skin that he could still feel despite the painkillers he was no doubt being pumped full of, was enough to remind him. If it wasn’t the burning, it was the turquoise eyes filled with rage that he saw every time he closed his eyes. He was never going to forget those eyes.

Thankfully, Best Jeanist seemed to understand his unasked question. “Would you like me to explain what has happened since you were brought here? Blink once for yes, twice for no.”

Hawks blinked once. He wanted—no needed to know what had happened since his fight with Dabi. He hated not knowing whether his fellow heroes were okay, he hated not knowing who had been killed in the battle, who had been injured. It was obvious that they hadn’t won the fight, otherwise he was sure that he would’ve awoken to more than just Best Jeanist in his room.

So, he listened.

He listened as Best Jeanist explained how he’d been rescued by Tsukuyomi—bless his intern for not leaving him to burn—and taken to medical. He explained how he’d arrived on the scene to Dabi trying to murder Endeavour and Shoto—his own family, god he couldn’t believe that Dabi was the supposedly deceased Touya Todoroki—before the villains had unfortunately fled. Hawks continued to listen as Best Jeanist told him about all the injuries and casualties that had happened, how several of the UA students had been injured, some nearly killed, how one of the teachers had been killed and another crippled to the point he would no longer be able to use his quirk—Hawks’ breath stuttered at hearing that, the news hitting close to home. He tuned out at that moment, instinctively trying to move the wings he no longer had.

He heard Best Jeanist stop talking, and moments later felt his bandaged hand being held gently. “Hawks." His fellow hero waited until Hawks looked at him before continuing. “Give yourself time to heal before you think the worst. They may grow back yet.”

Hawks could appreciate Best Jeanist’s words, he really could, but he couldn’t help but keep thinking the worst. After all, his entire hero career was built upon his wings and his speed. Who was he if he couldn’t fly? How would he ever save people if he couldn’t send his feathers off to help? The answer was that he wouldn’t. Never again would he be able to save people. He knew that there were plenty of people that would reassure him, tell him that he just had to give himself time, but he knew better. Even if they grew back, his wings would never be the same again. Sure, he’d had encounters with fire quirks before—they were quite common after all, but he’d never dealt with flames as hot as Dabi’s before. Dabi’s flames had burnt his wings right off in an instant, down to the very base that they sprouted from. The villain had burnt him until there was nothing left. It left Hawks wanting to see Dabi again, if only to question whether he would’ve actually killed him that day, or if this was what he’d intended from the beginning.

With all his strength, he tightened his grip around Best Jeanist’s hand, injured muscles trembling from the effort. He opened his mouth and despite the agony that followed, he spoke. “Thank… you…”

 There’s nothing more we can do except wait, I’m afraid. The doctor’s words rang throughout Hawks’ head repeatedly as he sat on his bed. The last of his bandages had been removed, baring his scars for the world to see. The skin on his back felt tight and uncomfortable, the stretches he’d been told to do not helping in the slightest. But that wasn’t the worst of it. No, the scars he could deal with, it was the fact that even the doctors had given up hope that his wings would grow back. There’d been no sign of growth since the war, not even a single feather to show that things would be alright. And it hurt. Deep down, he knew that the chance of his wings returning was almost nothing, yet he couldn’t stop the hurt from crushing him, reminding him that he was nothing without his wings.

But there wasn’t any time for him to grieve. The villains weren’t going to just sit and wait for them to recover before making their next move; the Tartarus outbreak was proof enough of that. So instead, Hawks had to plaster a reassuring smile on his face and go about playing hero, even though all he wanted was to curl up in the corner and have the breakdown he so desperately needed. He tried his best to focus on what was happening around him; the press conference with Best Jeanist and Endeavour, and their subsequent team up in the mission against the Tartarus escapee’s. Every time the three of them met up, Hawks could feel their eyes on him, the silent pity doing nothing to help his situation at all. But he pushed it all aside. There were more important things to focus on.

But then a miracle happened.

Hawks had caught a glimpse of his back that morning in the mirror and frozen, staring with wide eyes at the budding red feathers on his back. And that was when he broke, all the emotions he’d been repressing since the first war rising to the surface and bubbling over. Tears slid down his cheeks as his legs gave out and he sobbed into the bathroom floor, curling himself into a ball. It was the first time since he’d woken up in the hospital that he let himself feel hope that maybe things would start to go well. There was still no guarantee that his wings would be like they used to be, but at least they were there. And that was all Hawks could ask for.

As the days passed, little by little, his wings grew. Once it was obvious that he would have wings again, he proudly showed them off to his teammates, both of them giving him pleased looks. It’d been hard to keep the smile off his face and remain serious, especially when they’d been called to help Midoriya fight against villains, but he managed, only letting the smile grow on his face when they were all safe and resting. His happiness affected the other heroes as well, giving a much-needed boost to morale. It was during this time that Hawks could let himself forget the damage that had been done to him, and let himself believe that one day he could be a hero again.

But then they stopped growing.

Hawks had been tracking the growth of his wings since they’d first reappeared, so he’d noticed the moment they stopped, and his stomach dropped. His wings were nowhere near their former glory, instead very much resembling the wings of a flightless bird, his feathers patchy and missing. Best Jeanist had taken notice of his mood and cornered him, waiting patiently as Hawks broke down in front of him about his dilemma. His fellow hero simply held him close and stayed silent as Hawks cried, and it was only when he’d stopped that Best Jeanist suggested giving Recovery Girl a call to see if the healer could do something that the doctors hadn’t been able to. Although Hawks didn’t have much hope that anything could be done.

“So this is as healed as they’ll get?” Best Jeanist asked, arms crossed as he leaned against the wall of Recovery Girl’s office. Hawks was sat on one of the beds, staring at the ground with dead eyes, struggling to keep his emotions under control.

The elderly woman truly looked regretful as she nodded. “I’m afraid so. If my healing can’t restore them, then there’s not much else that can be done.” She turned to face Hawks. “I know it’s not what you wanted to hear dearie, and I’m sorry I couldn’t give you good news.”

“It’s fine.” Hawks croaked. It wasn’t like he didn’t know that this was going to happen. He could pretend all he wanted, but the truth would catch up to him either way. “Thank you for trying.”

Recovery Girl nodded at him before leaving the room. The moment the door shut behind her, Hawks buried his face in his hands, curling his fingers into his hair and pulling. A whine escaped him before he could stop it, and that was all it took for Best Jeanist to approach him. Slender fingers tugged Hawks’ hands from his hair before he could tear any out, and the taller man lowered himself so that he was in Hawks’ line of sight.

“You can still be a hero, Hawks. Wings or no wings.”

A bitter laugh escaped from Hawks. “As if. I’m nothing without my wings Jeanist.”

“That’s not true—”

“Isn’t it?” Hawks interrupted, pulling his hands free and wrapping them around himself. “My entire hero career has revolved around my quirk. It’s the whole reason I was even able to become a hero in the first place. If it weren’t for my wings, I would still be on the streets. Not even that, I’d probably have been long dead.” His voice began to crack towards the end. “What am I without my wings, Jeanist?”

“You are Hawks.” Best Jeanist murmured. “The man who risked everything to infiltrate the League. One of the smartest people I have ever known. A dear friend to us all. A good person. That is who you are Hawks, and even though your wings may have opened the doors, it was you that walked this path.” As the man finished, he carefully reached out and drew Hawks into a gentle embrace. Hawks simply let it happen.

“The villains aren’t just going to sit by and wait for my wings, you know.” Hawks mumbled into a denim clad shoulder.

“I know. But we’ll figure something out. Together.”

“Okay.” Hawks sighed. He knew that his recovery wasn’t going to be as easy as a few reassuring words. It would’ve made it so much simpler if it could’ve been like that. But there wasn’t anything he could do about it right now other than focus on the coming battle. A battle that he had no idea if he’d be participating in to begin with. He’d be there for the meetings and the planning, but the actual combat? How could he when he didn’t even have his main weapons?

His wings had been clipped and there was nothing he could do about it.

[lady-delamort]

Yes, but Fuyumi always giving in to everything she wanted for the sake of someone else, always thinking of someone else before herself, but when she meets Keigo, she doesn't want to give up on him no matter what anyone tells her. ❄️🦅🥹🥰

[veg-hotwings]

Thinking about how relieved and light Hawks must have felt after waking up postwar and realizing he wouldn't have to follow the HPSC orders anymore.

As much as I would have loved for him to break his shakles himself, he was finally free. Still trapped inside his own mind, his guilt, bottled up emotions and responsibility, but free to do what he wanted to do at his own accord: saving people, bc he couldn't care less about himself, even if he's been crippled by the person closer to him.

Stupid, selfless, beautiful man.

[marauderundercover]

Hawk in the Night (Madds Buckley)

If I could draw, I'd make this song into an animatic with this general set up for the lyrics. Tim would always be on one half of the screen, and Damian on the other. Anyway, enjoy this blurb thingy

****

"Oh baby bird, I'm glad you don't cry anymore. Be brave; one day you’ll fly, you'll soar. But dont forget where you come from, the vultures that watch your back"

Tim's parents standing eerily behind him, making sure he's perfect and Tim is just trying so hard

Damian, tiny, having the entire League watching him, waiting for him to make a mistake

"Oh baby bird, I'm glad that you quit your chirping, that songbird shit was worthless. And no one would've heard you hacking up a tune"

Tim, left alone in Drake Manor, not making noise anymore when he's hurt or sad. Learning to cry quietly because no one is coming for him.

Damian, being taught that crying is weakness and he can't have a weakness. There are too many enemies looking for just that.

"Sharpen your talons and fight. Claw at the world as it claws out your eyes. We raised you right, hawk in the night"

Tim's parents accepting Tim's good grades (something he has only because he's worked to achieve greatness, lost sleep over it. Because he has to make them proud)

Damian becoming a skilled fighter much too young (because he's lost sleep over it, stayed awake for hours perfecting a sword move in the hopes of making someone proud)

"Oh baby bird, I'm glad you don't smile anymore. It means you're strong, the weak never have their wings unfurled. You know your place. At least you're not fighting for scraps"

Tim, a practiced gala smile on his face when the situation calls for it. Because Janet was upset when he actually smiled. Too expressive. Too easy to exploit. A Drake is unmovable.

Damian, scowls quickly replacing toothy grins. Toothy grins were only for undercover missions, not real life. They are unbecoming of an Al Ghul. Of the son of "The Bat".

"Oh baby bird, I'm glad that you quit your laughing; it's too loud. That awful bubbly sound that would happen when you were a child"

'Too loud, Timothy. Children should be seen and never heard.' A phrase ingrained into his head; quiet voice, quiet hands, quiet life.

'Silence, Damian. Weapons of the League move swiftly and silently.' Silent, swift, secluded.

"Oh baby bird, the nightingale can't soar like an eagle; its wings are much too fragile. It's weak like its ego, but us child, you and I, we've got pride on our side"

Tim, chasing the Bats around Gotham. Just watching, but hoping, in the back of his mind, that he'll be caught. But he's not. And he wakes up in Drake Manor the next morning. Alone. A Drake.

Damian, hoping he'll do well enough to earn something about his Father. Anything. But he doesn't. And he can't. He goes to bed with an empty feeling in his chest. "The Bat".

"Oh baby bird, the hunting birds can live their lives alone. Who needs friends? A dead weight's all that other birds are made off. So fight the world, screech like a hawk in the sky"

Tim, alone in a too big manor, no longer waiting for the phone call that he knows won't come. Trying, desperately, to convince himself that he doesn't need anyone else. That he's fine alone. (Janet Drake's speech about his 'school chums' being beneath him weighs heavily on his mind. He doesn't need friends either)

Damian, outwardly unflinching at the blood on the floor. Inwardly, screaming the loss of his first (and, he swears, only) friend. There's not time for friends in the League.

"Sharpen your talons and fight"

Do as we say, Timothy

Again, Damian

"Claw at the world as it claws out your eyes"

Tim, trying to get someone to hear him

Damian, trying to get someone to see him

"We raised you right"

Tim, alone

Damian, alone

"Hawk in the night"

Robins