weary travelers.

THINK HELPFUL THOUGHTS

There are no heroes coming to save him. Heroes aren't real, it's something everybody learns at one point in their lives (he just happened to have learnt it earlier). That there world revolves around both sides. If h/Heroes didn't exist, v/Villains would come to power, then what? They reign for generations, and at some point someone else takes control. It's an endless loop of manipulation; but life would be so much easier if a villain was in charge (not a Villain, though).

Sure, Villains are insane, but even those ones know suffering enough to deal with others. The other half, though (the villains), are decent people that are pushed and twisted to a path due to others views on something they don't have control over: quirks.

It's stupid, really, how a genetic ties that you have no choice in effects your entire life. And even if you don't have that tie, if it's been severed by the statistic in your pinkie toe joint; you break under the pressure of the world that falls around you.

How twisted has the world become, how brainwashed are the civilians that live normally, that the human―mostly human society believes that they are above those with scales and talons? Because he has seen―he lives through that, breathes the air that his not-right self shouldn't get a right to.

(His eyes are wrong, he learnt first, there is a black line that creases, so that he can see better in the dark.)

He saves the people whom have become too dependent on the ones they no longer see as one of them. They look at him as if he's an angel, as if the black of his nails won't disgust them should he rake his gloves off. As if the dotted feathers on the side on his hairline wouldn't cause them to turn their back on him.

(His hair, the edges are dotted with plumage, that's wrong too.)

If he wasn't this pretty, would they still see him as a human? Not the angel with bloodstained wings that he knows he is.

Hawks doesn't want to find out.

(He has to be less what he was born to send more of what they want him to.)

They saved him for a reason, to use him to the best of his ability. And so that's exactly what he does―he tears through skin and saves lives with nothing but a single, sharpened feather. It's life or death, he cannot afford any to make any mistakes.

They are heroes. (He wants to be a Hero.)

_

Tomura was never one to snoop, despite being raised to kill without remorse (fuck Sensei for messing him up on that one). He was decently respectful after Izuku taught him how to be. Izuku said that Sensei was wrong; that he was a liar and Tomura didn't believe him at first. He left him with a handprint on his arm; sometimes he wants to do it again, to stop the itching that etches itself onto his bones.

(Then he remembered that Izuku never lies for himself because that would be selfish and Izuku Midoriya is not selfish.

He's too self-sacrificing, too kind, Izuku does not view himself as someone to save―as something human―and it makes Tomura's gut boil.)

If he was selfish he wouldn't have given Tomura his dinner that night in the rain and he wouldn't have slept on the couch instead of the bed. He doesn't lie, because he wants to help. He doesn't lie unless the truth will save the other person; he doesn't want anyone to worry about him.

He would never do anything if it didn't benefit someone else. That's why Tomura likes him so much. Izuku Midoriya is not selfish; he strives to be a hero. Even if he can never be someone that millions of people look up to, he'd be satisfied by helping one, not that it would stop him from saving another. (And another, and another, and another. He saved so many, who is going to save him? He's in so much pain and no hero helped him. Not Sensei or All Might and he didn't expect anyone. Izuku just took the punches and wounds, giving out his bandaids to people on the streets). Izuku Midoriya is a true hero. (Fuck All Might.)

He was born to be the underdog and he will help those around him even if he has to set himself on fire. It was all in the name of keeping someone else warm, after all. He was never one to hold back because of fear. He was never one to flinch away at the prospect of getting hurt for someone else. He's numb to pain, his hands are stained with calluses.

(Tomura has caught glimpses of Izuku's elbow. Bubbled and red. It makes his neck scream, nobody like Izuku should ever have to deal with something like that. He shouldn't have a hand out-print on his arm under the burns, and every time that Tomura sees that he gets angry at himself.

He did that, he'd hurt someone good, he'd hurt his savior. Tomura does not want to be the villain. Izuku assures him that as long as he's sorry and that he won't do it again, he isn't a villain. Tomura knows Izuku is lying. There's no way Tomura can be a hero.)

So when he walks into Izuku's home only to find his green haired friend with bruises under his eyes and blue fingertips, he promptly freaked the fuck out. After he finished panicking, assuring himself that, no, Izuku is not dead (yet, if you were a second later, Tomura, he could have died―).

It's quiet, and Tomura revels in it, the voices in his head have zipped their lips. He grins as he watches his only friend sleep, covering Izuku with another blanket and moving the curls away from his eyes. 

He goes downstairs and sits on a barstool, he wonders how Airhead would react to this.

He wonders if she'd find Tomura as pathetic as he does.