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thepenultimateword · 6 months

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Monstrous Part 2

Part 1

CW: Experimentation, injuries

Everything hurt. A thousand needles under the surface of Hero's skin, plunging deeper and deeper, into muscle, organs, bone.

She shrieked, surging against the many sets of hands pinning her to the gurney. Beakers and test tubes shattered; one of the monitors began to smoke. Hero caught a glimpse of hands over ears and the mess of blood and feathers blanketing the floor before being shoved back cheek first into the table.

"Where's my sedative?" shouted Dr. Penn. His familiar, harsh hands had Hero by the scruff of her neck, making her dizzy with the almost strangling pressure.

"I need stitches!" cried another voice.

"Shut up, Lancaster!" Penn barked. " You're the one at fault! Sedative then serum! How many times do I have to say it?"

"That thing attacked me!" Lancaster cried, voice as sharp as his blood on the otherwise sterile air.

A rush of rage surged through Hero's burning body, and she flapped her wings violently, breaking a few of her captors' hold.

"Will somebody bind those things down!" Penn said.

Another set of hands forced her wings into an expert fold, tearing loose a few feathers along the way, then wrapped the binding strap so tight it ached. "We should just cut the things off," the new scientist said. Dr. Sunfield. Hero shuddered involuntarily. The woman's threats were never empty.

"Yeah? And then how is she supposed to get around?" Penn snarled. "The bus? We all agreed on a mobility element."

Sunfield gave the restraints an unnecessary tug, causing Hero to shriek. "They weren't supposed to get so big. She looks like a blasted vulture."

"They're only going to get bigger. The rest of her too. Her growth plates are still showing on the x-rays."

Sunfield cursed. "This is a disaster."

"At least she's been useful data."

Something sharp and stinging plunged into Hero's neck, followed by a nauseating chill that washed from head to toe. The sedative at last. She wasn't sure whether to be scared or relieved. The pain would finally stop, but what else would they poke her with while she was under? The scientists loosened their grip, and she took advantage of that to swing her claws toward Penn's voice. Her limbs were already more sluggish than she'd realized. The doctor caught her wrist, giving her fingers a bone-cracking squeeze before stroking her limpening knuckles with his thumb. His other hand tucked her tangled hair behind her ears. "Besides, we were asked to give the city something to get rid of Supervillain, and that's what we did. She may be monstrous, but a monstrous masterpiece nonetheless."

"The city can't market monstrous. There's backlash from the citizens every day, and that cuts into our funding."

"Don't worry." Penn's voice seemed to slow and stretch, and he dropped Hero's arm with a dull thud. "The next ones will be heroes the city can trust."

Hero shot upright. A sharp pain shot through both temples, and the melty, slanted surroundings immediately slumped her back onto her elbows. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for her head to stop feeling to heavy for her neck.

"Oh! You're awake," came a drawling masculine voice. It sounded roaring. "How do you feel?"

Hero winced. "Floaty." She dared crack her eyes and squinted around the room. Shelves and shelves of alcohol and jarred olives glistened in the weak orange light. A faint electric buzz resonating from the metal door on the wall adjacent hinted at a refrigerated room. She rose slower this time, hoisting her aching wings shut and swinging her legs over the side of the rickety cot.

"Wait, wait! Don't pop your stitches; they're still fresh!"

A figure leaped up from the ground at the cot's head, and Hero slowly recalled his tangled hair and lean stature.

"Where am I?" she demanded, more threat than question.

The man held out his hands, the one she’d clawed now wrapped in bandages. Once again, he didn’t seem particularly put off by her behavior.

"Backroom at Foghorn. It’s a bar. Particularly for upstanding citizens like myself. People are always crashing here when they get into scraps. They have more medical supplies than my place. Better pain medication. That's probably what's making you feel floaty."

“You kidnapped me,” Hero snarled.

The man shrugged, a motion almost like rolling his shoulders, like brushing her off and getting ready to stand his ground all in one. “I hate to argue with a lady who could probably turn me inside out, but you did pass out in the middle of the street. So any 'kidnapping' on my part was really nothing more than a rescue effort."

Hero gave the man a hard look. Rescue effort? She wasn't buying that. People didn't rescue things like her. Not without a ten-foot pole. And this guy didn't look like the trimmed poodles the labs or the agency usually sent to spy on her.

“What’s your motive?"

“No motive," the man said. "I was in the area.”

“You said we’ve met?”

The man grinned whipping a business card from the inside pocket of his shirt and rolling it over his knuckles and--with a bowing flourish-- into her hand. “Villain. You killed my old boss.”

She blinked at the unimpressive piece of cardstock, blank but for a nicely typed name and a phone number. His words sank in slowly.

Ah. A criminal. And one of Supervillain's mess. She'd taken out all the big players, so he must have been telling the truth about being in the background.

“You want revenge then?” she said. That made more sense. Watching her die in the street would have meant nothing to him. He had to save her and break her himself. Inflict the same pain she inflicted on--

“No, we threw a nice little party after you left." Villain plopped crisscross at her feet. He rested his cheek in his hand and stared casually up at her. "Honestly, the boss was suffocating, but what can you expect from someone with a chokehold on your life."

"You...wanted me to kill him?"

"You mean did we want rid of the giant gun at our heads?"

Hero bristled a little at the sarcasm. What did she know about villainous politics? She was just given a problem, and she got rid of it.

"With Supervillain it was black or white," Villain continued. "Ally or enemy. And you did not want to be an enemy. So ally it was. Pawn is closer to the truth. No, we can finally spread our wings--if you'll excuse the analogy--without being seen as competition."

He leaned in conspiratorially.

"If I may be so bold, I think I've had a little crush since the moment I saw you."

Hero slammed the cot against the wall with a metallic crash as she stood, looming darkly over Villain's bony curled-up frame.

"Shut up."

Villain's brow knit together. "Of course, I don't expect anything from that confession, I simply wanted to say the way you just ripped into him was fantastic. And your voice. That precision! You were--"

"Shut. Up."

This time Villain did flinch. Hero took some satisfaction from that. It was a little frightening when the tired and true defenses didn’t work.

“I can take a beating. They make jabs about me every day on television, and that's fine. But I will not be made fun of. I won't be the butt of your sick, simpering jokes. Or are you trying to manipulate me? You think you can flatter me, and I'll fall over myself to help you? I am not an idiot."

Villain opened his mouth, and Hero braced herself for more lies. Maybe her guard showed on her face because slowly he shut it again, fixing her in a steady hazelnut stare. Eventually, he tipped his chin at her. "I'll get some ice for that wing."

Hero turned her head over her shoulder. The aching wing had begun sliding back toward the floor. She attempted to lift it against her back again but a sharp electric pain stopped her short.

"Here." Villain touched her lightly on the shoulder, drawing her out of her wince. He held out a frozen pack of fries from the refrigerator room. “It’s not much, but better than nothing.”

Hero glared but snatched the pack from his hand. The cot creaked as she dropped back on the edge and slowly extended her wings to the dusty concrete. Her feathers pulled a little against the dried grime, and she had to strain to press the cold to the aching joint where wing connected to back, but it did help.

Villain's eyes still didn't stray away; they actually looked more focused glued to her wings. What was his deal?

"Your wings," he said slowly. "Does it bother you... I mean...would you like something to clean them with?"

Hero glanced at greasy, blackened ends, dredged with oil and refuse. She fought down a grimace. Yes, it bothered her. It was sticky and crusted and uncomfortable, but it wasn't the first time she'd dealt with this sort of discomfort. At least it wasn't blood.

"I'm used to it," Hero grumbled. "They're always hard to keep clean."

"Can't you get them wet?"

What was with all the questions? If he really had no motive, why didn't he leave already?

"Yes... But most showers aren't exactly big enough for a full wingspan. And public shower rooms are not an option when you look like this." She gestured at herself brusquely. "The labs have a sanitizing room when I really need it."

Villain nodded slowly.

“I had to do the stitches to save you," he said. "But I didn’t want to touch you any more than I had to without permission. But if it's bothering you, and if you don't mind... You can tell me if it's too uncomfortable but..." He pointed to the dirty wing. "May I?”

Hero's first impulse was to blow up again. To shout a resounding no and ask what his real intentions were. Maybe he really was a spy, just biding his time before he incapacitated her. It was certainly up Sunfield's ally to force the labs' hand at retiring her. But then again, he could have done that when she was knocked out.

“Whatever.” Hero turned to the side so the grimy wing drooped more fully on the floor.

Villain hopped to his feet a little too giddily. "Don't move, I'll be right back." He skirted past the storage shelves and pushed out into the business side of the building, a sliver of the loud chatter and clinking glasses slipping inside before the door swung shut again.

Hero closed her eyes for a moment and imagined the bustle going on just on the other side of that wall. It was probably the closest she had ever gotten to a place like this, at least, without crashing it. How would they react if she were to step out? Would they leave? Would they try to finish her off?

Another bit of cacophony escaped through the swinging door.

"Ooookay!" Villain called. He set a large bowl of soapy water and clean washcloth on the ground and settled down beside it. As he outstretched his hands, he hesitated. "You're sure? You're not going to claw me to death or anything like that?"

"I only claw criminals who cause me problems," Hero said. "So you're safe. For now."

"Goody," Villain grinned. He carefully dragged the wing into his lap, squeezed the excess water from the washcloth, and gently got to work on the worst patch or street gunk.

Hero looked straight ahead.

Warm water trickled between her feathers, triggering a shudder that set each one on end. She fought the urge to close her eyes against the gentle rake of his fingers. She hadn’t known someone could touch her without pulling or prodding.

"Ok?"

"Mm," Hero grunted with a short nod. This wasn't just a quick swipe of the rag; he was sifting through each and every feather. A cleaning like this, by hand, could take hours. Hero never signed up for that. She didn't have that time. But for now--she fought another shiver--it was fine.

“I wasn’t making fun of you earlier,” Villain said quietly, dunking the rag into the bowl again. “I’ll shut up about it if you want me to, but I hate there being a misunderstanding. I really do think you’re beautiful. Like an angel.”

“More like a demon," Hero scoffed. Maybe the doctors had been right all those years ago. She was a disaster. Nothing like the pretty heroes in the limelight these days. She was only good for slaughter, and she hadn’t even done that right tonight. The agency would be mad when they found out her target got away, and her injured in the process.

“I don’t think so." Villain lifted a chunk of feathers with the back of his hand and wiped gingerly at the undersides. "Maybe everyone is just too narrow. And you need the space to fly."

Hero snorted. "Wooow, clever that one. Take you long to think it up?"

"As a matter of fact, it came right off the top of my head. I’m full of clever thoughts. With Supervillain gone, I’m going to use them for myself. Soon enough, I won’t be able to get off your radar even if I try.”

“And you’re excited about that?” Hero finally looked back him. He looked far too pleased with himself. “You know if I’m the one after you it usually means death, right?”

"Well…it would be nice to see you. Maybe you’ll change your mind. Or maybe I’ll escape.”

Hero crooked a disbelieving smile. “Not likely.” She abruptly withdrew her wing, pulling the numbed joint in so it folded properly against her back. As she stood and took a couple steps a new wave of dizziness rocked the floor but she shook it away. “Well, wing’s feeling better. I’m leaving."

“What?” Villain scrambled to his feet. “You shouldn't be flying on a sprain. Besides, there're all sorts of creeps ‘round these parts when it’s dark. You should stay here at least til sun up.”

"Creepier than you?"

“Ow, you don’t want to hurt my feelings, do you?”

“I’m pretty sure I can handle it.” Hero took a few more dizzying steps toward the door, but Villain jumped in front of her, arms spread.

“You have fresh stitches; moving around to much will be a bloody mess. That means no fighting. I forbid it.”

Hero rolled her eyes. “Well if a complete stranger says so, I guess I better listen.” She tried to dodge around Villain, but he echoed her steps with only a quarter of the sway.

“You’re not an idiot. You know I’m right. You shouldn’t fight in your condition, and if you go outside it will end in a fight.”

Hero hesitated, and Villain took the opportunity to press on.

“I might have said we appreciated what you did, but not everyone likes you like I do. So just a few more hours. When it’s light, it’ll be clear to go.”

Hero stared into his determined eyes. Really, what was his deal? She didn't even know him, so why did he care so much? Especially when he should see her as an enemy. But...he was right. She didn't really know where she was, and flying on this wing did not seem like the greatest idea. And she'd had enough scrapping for one night. Plus, the room would not stop tilting.

"Fine." She stormed back to the cot and rolled onto her side, cramming her wings against the wall behind her. If what Villain said was true, she didn't trust turning her back to the door. "I'll wait until sun up. And then what?"

"I'll escort you."

"Suit yourself." Hero squeezed her eyes shut, effectively ending the conversation. After a moment, she heard the rustle of Villain settle back down at the head of the bed.

She only meant to close her eyes for a moment. Just until Villain stopped looking at her. But before she knew it, she was sinking into the dark folds of sleep.

Master Taglist:

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#hero x villain #creative writing #heroes and villains #heroes and villains community #writblr #writing snippet #villain #monster hero #winged hero #writeblr

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the-modern-typewriter · 2 years

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Something about a winged hero, maybe the villain threatening to or actually grounding them in some way? Winged characters in general are amazing. I love your writing!!

"There's a security system around the whole compound," the antagonist said, as they knelt on the courtyard floor, fiddling with the cage door. "If you try to fly too high, you'll burn those gorgeous wings of yours beyond repair, and wouldn't that be a shame?"

The protagonist watched them, coldly.

The antagonist let the sparrow fly free. It soared up, up, up in a panicked flutter of wings - sensing escape - only to collide with a previously unseen barrier just above the topmost tower. There was a flash of sickly light, and then only singed feathers floating back down to the floor.

One charred, tiny feather landed not far from the tip of the protagonist's wing.

The antagonist offered them a faint smile, from where they knelt on the floor. "Do we understand each other?"

The protagonist said nothing, their attention on all that was left of the bird.

"Judging by the look in your eyes," the antagonist said, straightening, "I think we do."

The protagonist turned to look at the antagonist. They wondered what the antagonist's eyes might look gouged out. It was not, after all, always wise to trap oneself in with a winged creature and consider that safety. People used to know better.

"That was unnecessary," the protagonist said.

"You speak."

"I bite too."

The antagonist grinned back at them, sharp and delighted. "So do I." They took a step closer, and the protagonist couldn't decide if their lack of fear was stupidity or something else. "Don't worry though, I didn't lure you here to hurt you."

"I am not worried."

The antagonist laughed. "No, I imagine a creature like you fears very little, least of all a mortal." They stopped, a metre away, rocking giddily on the balls of their feet. "You can learn to though, I am sure."

"You didn't lure me here to hurt me. But you are capable of it."

"Gosh, you're smart. Did you know that half the people I consulted told me you were feral?"

The protagonist mimicked the antagonist's grin. Their own teeth were much, much sharper. "Maybe I am."

The antagonist gave an admiring sigh. "The other half were more cautious, which is why my employer hired me in the first place. Don't get me wrong, I'm happy to provide you something to attack, for enrichment. But it won't be me."

The protagonist's gaze roamed over them, searching for some other ward that might burn them at a touch.

The antagonist winked at them.

"Of course," the antagonist said. "I knew you were smart. I know exactly what you're capable of. I've seen your angelic work."

"I am no angel."

"You safeguard the weak, even as you terrify them. Horrify them. What could possibly be more divine than that?"

"And you wish to prevent this safeguarding."

"It's nothing personal." The antagonist held their hand up, placating. "I'm not one of those monsters who envies flight so keenly that they would clip another's wings purely out of jealousy, or so no one else will ever witness something so exquisite."

"No," the protagonist said. "I imagine this is not personal for you."

The antagonist's head tipped, questioning.

The protagonist ached, itched, yearned to fly. Their wings rippled, gusting a matching threat of wind across the courtyard. A crack appeared in a far wall.

It was personal for them, the second someone threatened their wings.

The antagonist sucked in a breath, but they still did not look frightened. They looked giddy, eyes gleamed. They stood, impossibly unmoved, even against such force.

It was the protagonist's turn to pause, to consider the antagonist anew. No one had simply stood like that before.

"Take it all down," the antagonist wet their lips, hungrily. "Go on. You still won't be able to fly away. You'll just have to sleep in the rubble."

The protagonist took a step back.

"What are you?" they asked.

"What do I look like?"

"Looks can be deceiving."

"So true!" The antagonist laughed, good-natured and amused, all over again. They reached down to pick up the small token bird cage, clicking the empty cage door shut. "But it doesn't matter what I am. It doesn't even matter who I am. Not to you. It won't save you."

"I'll kill you before I let you leave me here, on the ground."

The antagonist bowed their head. "You'll try. That is your right."

"Maybe I'll fly up anyway. How would your employers feel about that?"

"They wanted me to kill you, so," the antagonist shrugged, "I doubt they'll mind. But I'm more of a put the spider in a cup, kind of person, you know?"

"Do you imagine you are the first person to ever try and hold me?"

"Oh." The antagonist widened their eyes. "Not at all." Their eyes returned to normal, and something utterly cold slithered politely across their face. "But I will be the last. Sing if you need anything, little bird! I'm making tea."

And then, they sauntered away towards the cracked doors, without a care in the world.

#heroes and villains #winged hero #writing #story #short story #fic #creative writing #fiction #villains and heroes #hero #villain #hero x villain

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gingerly-writing · 1 year

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Prompt #3362

“Oh hero, I do love your wings. It’s so lovely to have an extra pair of limbs to break.”

#prompt #my prompt #wings #whump #heroes and villains #winged hero

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tsademcxo · 1 year

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Happy Birthday Hawks! 28/12

Here's a Vampire Hawks I Drew :) Enjoy!

AVAILABLE IN MY ETSY SHOP!

(Link in bio)

#hawks #my hero academia #artbyteesa #mha #bnha #boku no hero academia fanart #my hero academia fanart #boku no hero academia #manga #huion #anime #mha hawks #vampire hawks #takami keigo #keigo takami #winged hero #pro hero #kohei horikoshi

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avvail · 2 years

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Hiya! I was wondering if you could write something about a winged hero who gets kidnapped by supervillain, who clips their wings. Maybe also some Villain who adores hero's wings walking in on it? If you don't feel comfortable doing this than you don't have to obviously, thanks!

tw: captivity, body torture, blood, brief suicidal thoughts/dialogue

Anybody in the building could hear the hero’s screams.

The horrific noises coming from their throat, carrying the pain of a thousand worlds. It wasn’t uncommon to know that nothing could compare to the pain of having your wings clipped. It was a horrible fate for Hero’s kind, one far worse than death. It brought shame and humiliation, as well as pain nobody could imagine.

It was so blinding that Hero wanted nothing than to die. Anything to end their suffering, to stop that scorching agony invading their shoulder blades, spreading through their body like wildfire. Their throat was raw from screaming and their face wet from sobbing, but nothing eased the pain.

Nothing made it stop.

Even when their back was bare, covered in blood and weightless, the hero was still sobbing. The pain lingered on and on and they simply let themselves hang off the chains, knees digging into the ground and arms suspended above them.

Villain watched, and that was all they could do.

They weren’t meant to be in here, Supervillain had made that clear, but they had been unable to stay away. It had been torture hearing the hero’s gut wrenching screams, and it was even worse seeing those wings being brutally detached from their back. Their grief struck the villain hard, and their heart ached seeing the beautiful things go.

Supervillain simply smiled, wiping their hands of their blood, before circling around them, and catching their jaw in their hand.

“Pretty little bird,” they purred, but the hero only whimpered, too afraid to move. “Do you understand now?”

Their chest stuttered with each breath.

“Don’t worry, though,” they chuckled, waving some of their henchmen over. “I’ll take good care of them. Find a nice glass cage for them, something flashy. Display it in my office as my most treasured prize.”

Hero continued to weakly sob, unable to bear hearing anymore. Supervillain seemed satisfied with themself, leaving the hero in chains. They passed Villain, cold eyes meeting theirs, but they didn’t say anything. The criminal was already rushing forward, ripping the chains from Hero’s wrists and catching them before they fell.

The poor thing was trembling and shaking like a leaf, and Villain was afraid to hold them too tightly, for they seemed as fragile as glass.

“Kill me,” they choked out, hands clinging onto Villain’s clothes. “Please, kill me.”

They pinched their eyes shut, shaking their head. “Don’t say such things.”

“Villain!” The desperate tone made their heart squeeze. “Please. Please, I can’t take it, I can’t...”

Villain held them close, refusing to let them go. “I’ve got you, okay? I’m here. So please don’t give up.”

Hero sobbed relentlessly onto their shoulder, fingers grasping weakly at their clothes. They barely even had the strength to keep themselves up, dazy with pain.

“It hurts,” they moaned.

Villain held them close. “I know. I know it does.” Their stomach felt sick with grief. “I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

They were beautiful. Villain had never seen something so mythical and gorgeous in their lifetime, and Supervillain had ripped them away. They had been so enamoured by such things, that they themselves could feel a string of vengeance beading in their stomach. The hero was shaking in their arms and Villain wouldn’t stand for it.

They pressed a soft kiss to their temple, but Hero had already shut off. Their eyes were dull and their body was becoming weaker by the second.

Careful of their back, Villain scooped them up into their arms, preparing to take them someplace safe.

And when they woke up, Villain was going to bring them their wings back.

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veg-hotwings · 2 years

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Hawks, Shigaraki and their abuse

I was thinking about Hawks (what a surprise!) and how much people tend to mischaracterise him and minimise the abuse he went through at the HPSC since he was fucking six years old.

He was literally groomed to be a weapon, grew up alone with no friends, forced to use his quirk in an unnatural way (you can't tell me this picture is not disturbing, that this is not abuse), ripped of his own name and identity, guilt tripped into being ashamed because his father was a villain so much he apologised for it like it was his fault, and probably do some pretty dark shit too.

Plenty of people argue that Twice was his first kill, but I doubt it. He desperetely tried to save Jin because he thought he was good and he admired him for it, implying that Hawks doesn't think the same of himself. After all Lady Nagant was his mentor, and she was a sniper. It's said multiple times in the manga he was raised, among other things, to be her successor, so he should have been able to take down high profile villains etc. Let's not forget that he freaking aimed for All for One's head as soon as he flew on the battlefield. He wasn't trying to block him, he was trying to kill him. Killing is engraved in him.

He says "If corrupting myself is enough to put everyone else at ease, then I will gladly take on this job" while mockingly bowing to the HPSC President, like he is resigned to this life, to his role.

At the same time, he fails to recognise he was abused, because he just doesn't know any other way to live. He hasn't known anything else apart from the HPSC and violent parents back in Fukuoka.

He didn't even dream of becoming a hero (he didn't know they were real in the first place!), the HPSC just took advantage (again, isn't this abuse?!) of him saving some people from a car crash to mould him in the perfect asset, the golden hero to embody everything Stein and Dabi hate: something fake, a facade.

A proof of this is his actual wish: doing some good while enjoying life around the 20-30th placing in the hero ranks.

The HPSC played so much with his mind he thinks he wasn't alone in this when he was, when his "not being alone" was just holding a fucking stuffed toy of another abuser. Isn't this just fucked up?

Psychological abuse IS abuse as much as physical abuse is.

All of this IS abuse, I won't accept other opinions on this matter.

Now, to Shigaraki.

I realized he and Hawks have a lot in common.

Plenty of people loathe Shigaraki. That's ok, he's a villain and of course did some pretty bad shit.

At the same time, they seem to forget that hasn't even been Tomura himself for plenty of chapters now. That's not him, it's All for One.

This doesn't justify his previous actions, but it's still an important thing to bare in mind (here for a deeper analysis).

Most of all, I think I've never read anywhere that he was abused in the same way Hawks was. And of course, since people fail to see Hawks' abuse (and he's a hero), understanding the same happened to a villain is just too hard.

(It applies to Dabi too, 'cause yes, there are still people thinking he just threw a tantrum because "DaDdY diDn'T GiVe Me AtTeNtiOn!!11!1!". That's concerning, honestly, but I'm not going to talk about him now).

Tenko grew up in a household that hated heroes because his father believed Nana abandoned him. He already had health issues, which piled up with the frustration and fear he felt towards his father, who couldn't accept his dream of becoming a hero, of his grandparents ignoring the fact he was beaten for this, and his mother and older sister who failed to protect him.

When he unleashed his quirk for the first time he was terrified and calm at the same time, but it was such a traumatic experience his mind just closed up on itself and made him forget about it (a typical trauma response).

Then, while roaming alone, ignored by everybody while pleading for anybody to help him, he was found by fucking All for One because life is just that fair, who exploited his fear and anger to mould him in the perfect weapon to use against All Might and the hero society.

Do you see the resemblace? He was ripped from his name and groomed by AfO after escaping somehow a violent household the same way Hawks was ripped from his name and groomed by the HPSC after escaping a violent household, just with a different objctive.

Cherry on top, when he finally got the power to destroy everything he loathed, to give his companions what they wanted too, AfO took over his mind. I'll say it again: isn't it just fucked up?!

Tomura is unable to free himself from his grip yet the same way the HPSC teachings are so engraved in Hawks he believed killing can be accepted if it's for a superior cause, that he believes he is responsible for his father's crimes.

I really really hope Horikoshi will grace these two with some justice.

I hope that Hawks will finally realise what his life really was and get some peace and rest, and that Tomura will free himself from AfO's grip and reunite with his friends before or after the end.

Thank you for coming to my TED Talk.

#thank you for coming to my ted talk #character analysis #ranting #tenko shimura #tomura shigaraki #all for one #league of villains #dabi #touya todoroki #hawks #pro hero hawks #winged hero #keigo takami #hpsc #fuck the commission #fuck afo too

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