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Fuck! If he isn’t careful, Endeavor’s son is going to kill him.
And it won’t even be the one he expected to.
Shouto slashes at him again, switching smoothly from his ice breathing techniques to the fourth form of the flame style Hawks knows so well. Huh. Looks like the kid’s relationship with his dad is defrosting if he’s using the flame breathing technique again.
What else has changed since he left the slayers?
The green-haired kid lunges from his left side, using the second form of water style. His strikes are powerful and quick, but he’s only used the first three forms so far, marking him too much of a newbie to be a real threat. Hawks sidesteps him easily, grabbing the kid’s wrist—keeping his talons carefully away from the vulnerable veins there—and flinging him towards a tree. He resists a flinch when he hears the kid’s head crack against the trunk. Ouch.
The third slayer launches at him, screaming, as Shouto runs back in. It’s way too obvious that this group isn’t used to working as a team. Too bad for them.
Hawks is airborne with a single beat of his wings. The loud blonde tries to swipe at him before he gets far, but Hawks is too fast. He perches on one of the higher tree branches, talons digging in deep, observing the slayers as they glare up at him. His head tilts to the side, a little too far to look entirely human, and a smile grows on his face as they grumble below him. What cute kids, thinking they have a chance against a monster like him.
“Hawks!” the one he’d thrown against the tree coughs out, getting up from where he’d been crumpled on the ground. “What happened to you? Everyone’s been looking for you, we’ve been so worried! How did you—” He falters, throat bobbing as he swallows hard. “How did someone like you turn into a demon?”
This always was the issue with newbie slayers. Too damn naive, looking up to the pillars as if they were gods. Annoying, really. Hawks is the last person any of them should want to emulate.
“I guess I can answer a few questions, for old time’s sake.” He looks down at his taloned feet for a moment, flexing them against the branch. Disgusting. “You should know already that turning just requires a little blood from the demon progenitor. I had to spend a few months hunting the guy down, but once I found him—ta-dah! Here we are! He was thrilled to have a former slayer join his side.”
It was definitely not that easy, but the kiddos don’t need to to know about the weeks of fear he’d endured before being turned as he desperately tried to convince Dabi to introduce him to his boss, how he’d felt his heart nearly beat out of his chest every time the demon drew closer with those dangerous teeth. They don’t need to hear the gory details of how he’d felt his back splitting open as wings sprouted, how he’d watched in horror as his arm regrew with sharp black talons at the tips of his fingers, how his teeth ached as his canines grew into sharp points. They don’t need to know how he’d torn a man apart in his desperate hunger, even as his mind—and the man’s family—screamed at him to stop.
That’s his own cross to bear.
The slayers below him definitely don’t look pleased with the explanation he gave, though. Especially the teary-eyed water-breath user.
“What about Tokoyami?” Shouto puts a hand on Midoriya’s shoulder, but he shrugs it off. “He misses you! He looks for you on every mission! How could you just—” He cuts off in a choked sob. Huh. Who the hell trained this kid? The Slayer Commission would’ve kicked Hawks’ ass if they ever found out he’d cried in front of a demon. They must’ve gotten soft in his absence.
“Listen, I know what you’re probably thinking. How could he side with demons? All they do is kill people! But!” He pauses for dramatic effect, stretching his red wings and tail feathers out to make a bigger impression, and letting his wide grin show off his sharp canines. The kids’ eyes zero in on his blood-covered arms and talons, fresh from the kill they’d interrupted. “Demons are free! I get to do whatever I want now. No more endless training, no more missions that almost get me killed, no more getting screamed at by people who don’t understand what we do. Being a slayer was too much work. I’d take the life of a demon any day!”
“So it was voluntary. You weren’t turned unwillingly.” Shouto’s voice is just as blank as his face. So unlike his dad’s constantly fiery visage. Also completely unlike his older brother’s unhinged grin. Maybe he looks like his mom, but Rei’s been dead for years and Hawks never managed to sneak a look at the pictures Endeavor kept.
“Right on the money, Shouto. It took a little convincing to get someone to take me to Shigaraki, but I sure am glad it worked!” He gives another winning smile, almost laughing at how torn up the kids look. Hell, they didn’t even know him. What do they have to be sad about? He’d left a position in the pillars wide open for one of them to take. You’d think they’d be grateful.
The blonde with the fiery eyes finally speaks up. “I’m going to kill you. And I’m going to tell everyone exactly why they shouldn’t mourn your traitor ass.”
How cute. Hawks might be intimidated if the kid's attitude didn’t scream amateur.
“Can you kill me, little slayer? You didn’t seem able to manage it earlier. Has something changed since five minutes ago?”
“The name’s Bakugou, asshole!” At that, Bakugou jumps towards the green-haired boy, who crouches down to let Bakugou use his shoulder as a launching pad to reach the branch Hawks is on. Hm. Maybe he’ll re-evaluate his earlier thoughts on their teamwork.
Bakugou swings at him, both swords flashing in the moonlight. Hawks needs to finish this quickly, before the sun becomes an issue. And before any other demons come running to the smell of human blood.
The swords miss his body, but strike cleanly through the branch he’d been balancing on, sending him right back to the ground. The woods around him are too thick for a clean take-off into flight, so he uses his wings to slow his descent instead.
He manages to land almost directly on top of the other two slayers trying to kill him.
“Midoriya, now!” Shouto shouts, and the green-haired kid—Midoriya, apparently—strikes upward, landing a lucky cut on Hawks’ arm. Little shit. Hawks hisses at the feeling of his skin knitting back together.
Before he can get away, Shouto swipes at him with another form of ice breathing, leaving Hawks with no choice but to bat him away with his wings. He tries not to think about Endeavor’s reaction to him attacking his youngest son. Unexpectedly, Shouto grabs his wing, fingers digging into the bone and feathers, and Hawks looks up to see Bakugou jumping down at him, swords in hand, ready to reduce his number of flight limbs by one.
And between the choice of forever disabling his hero’s son with sharpened feathers or having his wing sliced, it’s not really a contest.
But that doesn’t stop his wing from hurting like hell as the serrated blades cut through it.
He lurches forward, dragging Shouto with him, and Bakugou’s swords only manage to slice through the top part of it. Hawks screeches, the damnably inhuman sound making all three boys wince. Fuck, he knows they got something important based on the way half his wing is hanging limp now. Dumbass kids.
Kicking out at Shouto, he grabs his injured wing and pulls it from the kid’s hand before taking off on foot through the woods.
It doesn’t take long for him to realize that trying to run with a bum wing does shit for balance and speed. He pushes through the trees and brush with his bird feet, flinching when his still-outstretched wing hits trunks and branches freely.
Well. This isn’t working.
He hasn’t had to regenerate any part of his body since he turned, but he’s assuming it’ll work just like it did the first time. If it doesn’t, well… it’s not like he really likes the wings anyway. Makes finding nice shirts hell.
He shoves his wing against the trunk of a tree and kicks it hard, snapping the large bone near the base with a crack . Then, pressing his clawed foot into the soon-to-be-stump, he grabs the outer half of the wing with one hand and uses his claws to rip through it, gagging slightly at the wet squelch of the innards of his wing being sliced apart. He doesn’t really want to repeat the process with the other side, but if his balance was fucked before, only having one wing would make it even worse.
Snapping the large bone of his wing against the trunk of a tree before ripping it off and repeating the process with the other wing? Painful. The look on Shouto and Midoriya’s faces when he chucks his dismembered limbs at them? Priceless.
The surprise doesn’t buy him much time, but it buys him enough. He manages to lead them to the edge of the forest just in time for the sun to start peaking up past the skyline.
“Hawks, there’s nowhere for you to run,” Midoriya starts, voice oddly sympathetic. “Come back with us. Maybe we can find a way to fix this.” No way this kid honestly felt bad for a demon. Seriously, what the hell was the Commission teaching kids these days?
“The way I see it, I’ve got a nice path right back through the forest. You just need to move out of my way.”
He’s got to look absolutely horrifying right now, blood dripping from his wing stumps onto the long tail feathers and eventually into the ugly, scaled legs that lead to his clawed feet. It’s painfully clear just how mutated he is without the trees and plants of the forest to obscure his body. It should be intimidating, but instead the slayers just grip their swords tighter, clearly intent on stopping him from escaping into safety.
Oh well. He tried.
He lets loose another scream as he charges, and as the boys flinch, he rakes his talons up Bakugou’s chest— careful, not too deep —and flits behind him to kick him from the cover of the trees into the open field in front of them.
“Kacchan!” Midoriya screams. He runs towards Bakugou immediately, leaving his back vulnerable and forcing Shouto to guard while carefully following him out of the woods.
The sun is up.
Hawks watches carefully from the shady cover of the forest as Midoriya and Shouto surround Bakugou, fussing over his wound. It looks worse than it is; his claws hadn’t even pierced into the muscle. Midoriya gets busy patching him up, assured by the safety of the sun and completely unaware of what a stupid move he just pulled, but Shouto turns his gaze towards Hawks.
“Make sure you tell the other slayers about me, alright? I’m counting on you three to spread the word about big, bad Hawks! Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go find a meal now to help me regrow these wings.”
Shouto’s brow furrows, and Bakugou gives an audible growl, but Hawks is already turning around and walking further back into the darkness of the forest.
Hope you three toughen up before you have to face any real demons.
“We were about to send a search party after you, slayer. Where were you?”
Dabi’s blue eyes glimmer at him in the dark of the house, promising violence if he answers wrong.
“Aw, did you miss me? I was just catching up with some of your family, Touya.” He winks, and dodges out of the way when Dabi sends a rush of blue flame his way. Temper, temper.
“I’ve told you before that the old man is mine.”
Hawks rests a finger on his chin, tilting his head to the side as he pretends to think. “Aw, don’t tell me you forgot about your poor little brother already.”
That makes Dabi pause, staring at him with curiosity in his eyes. Interesting. “You met Shouto?”
“Yep. Kid’s grown up a lot since I’ve seen him. Could’ve taken my head off my neck if I wasn’t too fast for him to catch me.” There’s a fifty-fifty chance that bringing up Dabi’s little brother could go very badly if he isn’t careful, but the opportunity to get under his skin is just too good to pass up. Even before he’d been turned, the guy had always had a weird complex over Shouto. It almost makes Hawks grateful he doesn’t have anyone he could call family.
Dabi stalks toward him slowly, black boots clunking against the floor. Hawks keeps still and calm, watching him with an easy smile. Dabi gets close, too close, and brings a hand up to touch Hawks’ neck.
“What a shame little Shouto isn’t faster.”
Hawks chuckles as Dabi’s hand warms just enough to border on painful, then drifts upward, running up his cheek to touch the blood red markings Hawks knows are on his face. Dabi claims they look like feathers, like the ones on his wings and the earrings he wears. Hawks wouldn’t know. He’s avoided his reflection since turning.
“So, what do you need me for this time? I’m assuming I got called back to this shithole for a reason.” He tries to pull away, but stills immediately when Dabi puts a hand on his newly-regrown wing. No way in hell he wants to regenerate it again so soon if Dabi decides to burn it off.
“Looks like he wasn’t that slow, judging by all the blood on your clothes. Where’d they get you?” Hawks’ wing flutters unconsciously in his grip, and Dabi grins. “Aw, did the little bird’s wings get clipped?”
Hawks shoves him away, refusing to answer. It’s obvious what happened anyway.
“I was wondering why you smelled so bad.” Dabi says. “You ate another old man to help heal it up, didn’t you? I told you to stop doing that. It makes you smell like shit. Why don’t you go for something fresher?”
“Maybe I do it just to piss you off,” Hawks snarls.
Dabi stares for a moment, but doesn’t shoot back. “Boss says he needs someone to check out some rumors up north about that blue flower he’s so interested in. You’ll get there faster than any of us will.”
“Of course. What would you do without your perfect messenger pigeon?” Hawks flutters his eyelashes at him, and Dabi snorts.
“He wants you to see him before you head out. Think he’s planning on gifting you some more blood.” There’s an edge to Dabi’s voice now that’s definitely jealousy. Hawks has only been with the demons for a few months, but he’s already been given several rounds of Shigaraki’s blood, making him considerably powerful. Meanwhile, Dabi’s been banned from having any more since he nearly imploded after his last round. Hawks eyes the silver metal holding the seams of his body together.
He can’t decide which of them is unluckier. Dabi, who wants more power but whose body can’t hold any more without bursting apart, or Hawks, who hates how his body mutates a little bit more every time he sees Shigaraki for this.
Too much more of this, and he’ll lose every part of himself that resembles a human.
“Well, I’d better be off to see him then. Can’t keep the big man waiting too long.” God, but he wishes he could. Anything to stave off the force of Shigaraki’s will, crushing his own desires under his heel. Anything to avoid that burning pain as more demon blood is forced into his body. Anything to stop the scales and feathers from appearing.
“Good luck. Try not to explode. I think Toga’s been in the mood for fried chicken lately.” Ugh. For someone with such a big stick up his ass all the time, Dabi sure does love making shitty jokes.
Hawks waves him off and trudges down the hallway where Shigaraki’s presence is the strongest. He feels like he’s walking to his own execution, but if that were true, he’d have died many times over by now.
If all goes according to plan, Hawks will be the last demon left standing at the end of this war.
And when it’s over, he’ll look for a sunny spot in an open field and walk directly into it, smiling as he burns alive.