dabi x hawks story: Feathers

the night sky

****Trigger warning, mentions of suicide*****

I just sat on the edge of the building, a few cigarette butts sat next to me, the once empty bottle of liquor now opened. I pressed the bottle to my lips and took a giant swig. Something about the way it goes down, the warmth I feel in my stomach is comforting, usually I'd hate the heat feeling but this, this was different. It's what makes this shit so addictive.

I slowly stood up, tips of my boots hanging over the edge of the buildings ledge. I didn't feel any fear, I never truly did. This should make me afraid, and yet it feels welcoming, like my destiny all laid out infront of me. I reached into the jacket pocket, and slowly lit a new cigarette, covering the end from the wind.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

Breathe in.

Breathe out.

It really was a nice night, the kind of night teenagers dream of hanging out on, smoking weed, or just being a kid. Something I never was worthy of...never truly earned. I had missed out in so much, love, freedom, fun, and overall happiness.

I felt a laugh creeping up my throat, "God I'm suck a fuck up"
For some reason, it was the peak of comedy to me, "this just in a heros son is a villan and a fuck up!"

"Are you happy now dad? Are you finally fucking proud of me?" I screamed into the night, it wasn't like anyone could hear me anyway. It was just me, the darkness, and my thoughts. I truly am alone, always have been, always will be.

Just a good for nothing villan.

I always thought that was such a stupid word. Define hero and villan, good or bad? Truth is, even the top hero, people out saving lives, just because they do all that good doesn't mean they are truly good. Some may actually be, but others are corrupt, all the bad heros ruin it for the good ones who are actually trying to make a difference in society, fighting against me, people like me. Not all villans are bad, their image is painted by people who tell their story, not themselves explaining it. You are defined by your actions, people are always watching. That's why this world is broken.

I took one good look at the view all the way down to the pavement, almost as if I was fantasizing about what the fall would be like. Would I feel anything? Fear? Regret? Anger? That I didn't know, the feeling of flying...falling would be the last thing I would feel, and the pain below, the consequences of my actions. Maybe...maybe I should just test it...

Who cares even, it would just be another hated, feared person off the streets, the city would praise me for just ending it.

You know what...

"Fuck it"

And that's probably one of the heaviest chapters so far, I might go re write old ones, also have fun with that cliff hanger.