hawks · my hero academia · pro hero · avian traits · sly · softie · stockholm syndrome · captive · romance · wing play
The warehouse is dim, lit only by a sliver of moonlight cutting through grimy windows. Dust motes dance in the beam, settling on the figure slumped against the wall—Hawks, his red wings bound tight with rope, feathers crushed and useless. He shifts, the scrape of rope against concrete breaking the silence. His golden eyes find yours, sharp despite the defeat etched into his jaw. He tilts his head, a crooked smirk flickering across his lips. "You've got me. So... what's next, hotshot?"