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Chapter Text

DabiHawks as Vigilantes (Originally posted March 26th, 2021)

Okay, new idea. We’ve all seen hero!Hawks and villain!Dabi and vice versa. But imagine them both as vigilantes. Hawks is very much a “I’m faster and more efficient than the heroes” type, whereas Dabi is a “I’m more ruthless against assholes than the heroes are” vigilante.

They both think heroes are overrated, though, and they end up bonding via an accidental assist and street takoyaki. Cue a vigilante team-up that has the villains running scared and the heroes sweating bullets. Really though, it’s just two powerful 20yos cleaning up the city while not-so-subtly showing off to each other 😂 Hello yes, I’m still here for friends to teammates to power couple dynamics 😂

Continued Dabihawks as Vigilantees (Originally posted March 26th, 2021)

Keigo’s first act of vigilanteism is the same that would have made him a hero in another world.

He saves six people from a four-car pile-up, but since no cameras catch it this time, he passes under the radar. Slipping through the cracks, like his feathers slip through locks when starvation becomes imminent. 

He’s not proud of it. Stealing to stay alive. And he vows, as soon as he can stand on his own, he’ll pay society back in spades. 

Five years later, he makes good on his promise by toppling a terrifying drug ring. 

People from all over the city find money repaid that they hadn’t thought about in years, accompanied by a single red feather. Meanwhile, the authorities scratch their heads, wondering where all the drug money went.

Touya’s first vigilante act is somewhat closer to home and occurs when he meets a man who calls himself Stain. Of all things, they get into an argument. Touya is 12 and still wants his father’s approval more than anything. Stain points out Endeavor’s motives for heroism are rotten at their core. Touya challenges him, quoting stats for Endeavor’s villain capture rate. Stain bites back with Endeavor’s civilian injury rates. It isn’t until Stain offers to show Touya the other side of heroism that the preteen reluctantly agrees, thinking he’ll prove the creepy sword freak wrong. 

Instead, he’s treated to the aftermath of one of Endeavor’s more violent fights. One that leaves buildings aflame and firefighters struggling to assist. 

Touya watches his old man throw barrage after barrage, and listens as Stain points out how so much of the damage could have been avoided. Shifted angles, less power, planning ahead to herd the villain into a less populated area. Touya listens, and for the first time, he sees his dad for what he truly is: a flawed human. Not the pillar of righteousness he presented to the world. 

It rattles him deeply. But not as much as when he hears a scream from one of the burning buildings. 

His feet move before he can think, and that day he performs his first rescue.

Years later, when Keigo has fought his way up to a sustainable lifestyle that no longer relies on crime, he dedicates himself to helping where he can. Even in small ways. Like when he finds a white-haired fire user getting doused in a back alley, for instance.

“Rain wasn’t on the forecast today!” He calls, yanking the water dude off the ground to hold him at eye level. Fifty feet in the air. 

Keigo recognizes him as a member of a local gang. 

“Oh, hey!” He says as the guy thrashes in panic. “How 'bout you stop trying to drown people and I don’t let my feathers slip up here? That sound okay?” 

The guy nods frantically, and Keigo beams before sending his feathers to drop the guy off on the most inconvenient roof they can find. Following that, he drops to the ground, where the fire user is still spitting up water. 

“Need a hand?” Keigo asks, offering one to the man while taking in his soaked appearance, his white hair, and his bright blue eyes, scrunched up with annoyance. 

“Didn’t need any help,” he grumbles, though he still takes Keigo’s hand and allows himself to be pulled up.

Keigo grins. “In the elemental game of rock, paper, scissors, I’m pretty sure water beats fire.” 

The guy snorts. “And fire beats air,” he returns, eyeing Keigo’s wings. The blond lifts a bushy eyebrow. 

“Not wrong about that. I hate fire quirks, no offense.”

The guy shakes his head, splattering water everywhere. “None taken. Feel the same about guys like that,” he says, nodding in the direction the thug had been whisked away. 

Keigo hums. “Why pick a fight, then? You two know each other?”

The guy eyes him. “I don’t associate with scum like that.” 

My kind of guy, Keigo thinks, grin widening. 

“Ya know, I’d drink to that. Right now, if you’re free?” 

The guy’s eyebrows raise. “You don’t even know my name.” 

Keigo shrugs. “So, what’s your name?”

“... Touya,” the guy - Touya - says. 

Keigo sticks out a hand once more, and Touya takes it with a mix of interest and reluctance. 

“Keigo,” the vigilante offers. “Now how 'bout that drink?”

Chapter Text

Originally Posted May 2nd, 2021

“Scoot over, you’re hogging the sink.”

“I’m sorry, me and my sixteen-foot wingspan can’t come to the phone right now.”

Dabi glares at the back of Keigo’s disaster bedhead, exhaustion fogging his brain. 

He doesn’t even have a good retort other than to flick his towel at the hero’s ass.

Keigo yelps satisfyingly. His wings also knock over half the products lining the countertop. Both hero and villain stare at the chaos with groggy expressions of despair.

“I’m not cleaning that up,” Keigo says with finality, though he does pull his wings in, letting Dabi join him at the counter. The villain snorts.

“Sucks for you, since it’s your bathroom.”

“Our bathroom.”

“Your bathroom.”

“Our bathroom.”

“Your bathroom."

“Fine, so I can get rid of the staples and disinfectants? Because they’re stealing space from my colognes.”

Dabi’s eyes narrow. That was a low blow.

“Lemme brush my teeth first, you fuckin’ harpy.”

Keigo bats him with a wing.

----

Dabihawks Domestic Doofuses Pt 2

Originally Posted June 3rd, 2021

Keigo wouldn’t actually yeet Dabi’s first aid stuff for his cologne collection, but Dabi seems to have this weird idea that Keigo is vain and self-centered.

So, Keigo plays into it a bit.

“And you need your wings preened daily... why?” Dabi asks, running his warm fingers through Keigo’s feathers in firm, smooth strokes. Keigo’s eyes roll back, but he keeps his voice even despite his chin being smushed into a pillow.

“Commission standards,” he gets out.

“And those standards entail..?” Dabi pries, actually sounding curious.

They’re laid out on the bed with Keigo’s left wing draped like a blanket across Dabi’s lap. The villain is sitting cross-legged, his long fingers combing through Keigo’s wings for the third time this week.

It’s only Monday.

Dabi doesn’t seem to mind. It’s almost like it’s as relaxing to him as it is to Keigo. 

‘Almost’ being the operative word here. Keigo’s bones feel melted and his muscles have unbound from years of clinging to each other in stress-induced desperation.

In short, Keigo’s never been a puddle before, but he’s pretty sure he’s on his way. 

“Pretty for the public,” he eventually replies to Dabi’s query. “That’s the standard. Beat up is acceptable too, but only after a fight. And only if I won the fight.”

Full sentences are getting harder for Keigo the more Dabi warms his hands. Then he notices them getting a bit TOO warm. 

“Dabi?” He asks, peeking over his shoulder to look at the villain. Dabi’s expression is stony. 

“Only pretty or in pain,” he repeats. “That’s fucked up.”

Keigo grimaces. He hadn’t meant for it to sound that way, even if it was true. Mostly he’d wanted an excuse for Dabi to preen him more often because it felt amazing. If Dabi thought it was for pretty privilege reasons, he could bitch about it.

If he thought it was a manipulation or abuse on the Commission’s end, though... that could spell trouble. For both the Commission and Keigo’s daily preening sessions. 

“It’s nothing outside the norm, you know...” he mutters quietly. “Lots of celebrities are required to keep certain standards.”

“Who told you being beat to shit was an acceptable standard?” Dabi growls low in his chest. Keigo can feel the anger practically vibrating through his feathers. Oddly, he feels touched. Dabi getting protective of him is... kinda hot.

New, too. Their arrangement thus far has been moving into scarily domestic territory, wherein affection and teasing are more the norm than aggression and sarcasm. Actual protective instincts though? That’s new. Normal Dabi would tell him ‘you’re the one with a thousand knives strapped to your back. You can handle yourself.’

So, call Keigo a little curious about this new turn of events. He arches an eyebrow at Dabi and contemplates how he wants to answer.

“It’s not like anyone told me it was ‘okay’ or anything,” he says slowly. “More like I was congratulated for good work by my media relations team after a hard fight. If I was looking less than my best without a fight involved, I’d usually get a politely worded email reminding me of public perception.”

Dabi absorbs that for a moment, idly stroking Keigo’s feathers. “No looking tired or pissed?” He muses. “I really would’ve made a shitty hero then.”

Keigo’s not sure he was meant to hear that last bit, but he does and it makes him blink.

“I think you would have made a good hero,” he counters, surprised to realize he means it. Dabi looks down at him in disbelief.

“Why the fuck would you think that?” he asks, voice sounding almost strangled. Keigo winces, hoping he hasn’t just poked a nerve.

“You’re passionate about taking down false heroes,” he says delicately. “Unwavering, really. And you fight even when the odds are stacked against you.” Before he can stop himself, he’s sitting up so he can face Dabi - more examples spilling from his lips unchecked.

“You pretend not to care for the League, but they all look to you when their own convictions waver. And they come to you when they need help.” Dabi tries to protest, but Keigo isn’t finished.

“You’re also really good with your quirk, even if it hurts you. Not many people have both power and control while knowing their limits, but I’ve seen you fight. You know exactly how much you can do before you have to fall back. I know a lot of heroes who could use a little less ego and a little more sense like that.”

Dabi stares at him with wide eyes, mouth hanging slightly open. Then he forces himself to laugh.

“That ‘control’ was learned the hard way, in case you hadn’t noticed,” he says wryly, gesturing to himself. “Unless they’re giving out awards for not wanting any more fucking burns.”

Keigo tilts his head thoughtfully. “That’s fair. It doesn’t mean that knowing your limits and following them isn’t a rare trait, though.” He shrugs when Dabi looks at him. “Forty-two percent of hero fatalities come from heroes biting off more than they can chew.”

Dabi is quiet for a moment longer before he jerks his chin, indicating Keigo to lay back down. He does, hoping that the surprisingly serious talk hasn’t killed the laid-back mood. But Dabi just resumes stroking through his feathers, smoothing out the vanes as he goes.

The silence stretches for so long, in fact, that Keigo is almost dozing by the time Dabi speaks again.“And how long before you bite off more than you can chew?”

Keigo blinks, heart beating harder inside his chest, not wanting to think about it. Not wanting to acknowledge that he’d already done so when he decided to play house with a villain, knowing it could only end in some kind of betrayal. Either of his career or the guy he bullies into making pancakes for him.

“Well, I’ll just have to trust that you and your common sense will set me straight, I guess,” he says, snuggling deeper into Dabi’s lap. The villain hums in response, his fingers simply playing with Keigo’s feathers now, seemingly lost in thought. 

Keigo lets Dabi drift, his own thoughts returning to how much easier this would be if Dabi were a hero. And how much he meant it when he said Dabi had the potential. It niggles at him. The realization that Dabi could have been in the same boat as Keigo. The standard of ‘pretty or pained’ combined by virtue of his appearance. 

It bothers him, he realizes. To have those standards applied to Dabi. To think of him getting those stupid emails because he looked tired.

Maybe, Keigo thinks, leaning further into Dabi’s warmth. Maybe Dabi’s right.

Maybe it is fucked up.

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 3rd, 2021

In the dark hours of the morning, Dabi snuck down to the PLF kitchen to infiltrate the kitchen.

Why the dark hours you might ask? 

Because the PLF was full of business people who woke up at 5:30 to have their health shakes and read the fucking newspaper. The only time that was safe was between 2:00 and 4:00, and even then, it was questionable.

Why did Dabi need to be safe, one might ask? 

Because Hawks, while not a business person, was the worst of the lot. He’d caught Dabi at 4:30 once - he just woke up that early.

What did he catch Dabi at, you wonder? 

His guilty pleasure. His one delight in his otherwise patched-up and tragic life. Stored in the back of the PLF pantry underneath four boxes of fibrous cereal that even the stuffy business people weren’t quite geriatric enough to eat.

A bag of gummy worms. 

And when Hawks had seen Dabi standing in the kitchen, a worm dangling over his mouth in a moment of caught-red-handed hesitation, the bird instincts in him had activated.

Dabi wasn’t sure which one he feared more now: early birds getting the worm, or early birds feeding him the worm. But as long as he never entered the kitchen after 4:00am again, he could avoid finding out. 

Chapter Text

Originally posted December 25th, 2021

Go out on patrol, Hawks. It’s just weather, Hawks. It’s not so bad, Hawks.

The fifteen-year-old mentally grouches at his handler while perched on a power line, observing the last-minute holiday shoppers.

“All Might’s balls, it’s cold,” he whines, wings shivering violently, sending cascades of snow down to the street below. He ducks into his collar when faces tilt to look at him. 

One face, though, is horrifyingly familiar. And so is her wide grin.

“Don’t even think about it!” Hawks calls as he sees her crouch down to a pile of fresh powder. The joke’s on him, though: Rumi never listens.

The first snowball he manages to avoid. The second smacks him right in the chin. He hears Rumi cackling even as he launches off in pursuit, face freezing and blood singing. 

By the end of the chase, he’s flushed, laughing, and, for the first time in weeks, warm.

Chapter Text

Originally posted August 9th, 2022

Set post-war/recovery. Dabi is mostly healed and is looking into workout routines. He’s tried jogging, weight lifting, rock climbing, martial arts… nothing is quite right, though martial arts comes close.

One morning, he walks by their workout room and sees Hawks practicing with his katana, and he pauses. He never wanted to intrude on Hawks’ practice time. It’s personal to Hawks, after he lost his wings - after Dabi took his wings. 

Hawks used to be able to do almost anything.

Now, he has to work for it. 

Dabi’s just about to turn and leave when Hawks catches sight of him in the mirror. 

He never had to use a mirror before. His feathers were his eyes and ears and - 

“Hey,” Hawks says, a smile tugging at his lips. “You wanna watch? You can come in.”

Dabi swallows down his doubts and enters the room, settling into a comfortable slouch against the wall near the door, feeling like an interloper. Hawks doesn’t seem to mind though. He goes back to his forms, still warming up.

The blades slashing through the air are hypnotic, lightning quick and deathly silent. Hawks moves through the motions, his shoulders flexing, his torso bending so fluidly that he looks like a dancer. Dabi finds himself transfixed.

He almost doesn’t notice when Hawks pauses, his golden eyes fixed on Dabi, expression too fond for an ex-hero looking at the guy who ended his career. He definitely notices when Hawks flips the hilt of one of his swords around and proffers it to Dabi. 

“Join me?” He offers.

Dabi looks at the offered sword, guts churning. 

“You sure?” He asks. 

Hawks smiles. “I could use a partner.”

Dabi takes the hilt in hand, feeling the weight of folded steel, almost as heavy as Hawks’ trust in him.

Hawks guides him into position beside him, showing him how to grip, how to stand, how to swing. And Dabi finally feels like he’s found what he’s looking for. 

Oh yeah, and a new workout routine, too.

Chapter Text

Originally posted August 20th, 2022

“You know how I know you’re not really a villain?” Dabi asks, voice low and taunting. Hawks’ talons flex inside his gloves, but he forces himself to give the villain a curious smile. 

“No, but I’m sure you’re about to tell me,” he returns. Dabi huffs out a laugh.

“That. Right there. You wanna rip my throat out, but you’re holding yourself back.” He leans in, his pointy elbow digging into Hawks’ shoulder. “If you were really a villain, Hawks, you’d be fucking terrifying.” 

Oh, Hawks thinks. He doesn’t know what he’s asking for.

Chapter Text

Originally posted on August 26th, 2022

Thinking about the different ways dabihawks  react to threats this evening. 

When they're both captured and the bad guys hurt Dabi, trying to get Hawks to talk? Hawks goes feral. Wrenching at the chains holding him down, snapping his teeth, wings sharper than folded steel.

As soon as the quirk dampeners wear off, it's a bloodbath when Dabi's the one being threatened. 

On the flip side, when the bad guys threaten Hawks to make Dabi talk? It's sheer desperation. Anger, too, of course, but the second Hawks cries out, Dabi folds.

"Whatever you want! Just don't hurt him."  

Then, when the dampeners wear off, Dabi's quirk rolls over the bad guys like a tidal wave. Inevitable, unstoppable. Breaking around Hawks only and leaving the rest as ash.

Chapter Text

Originally posted on August 30th, 2022

Dabi has this incredible ability to sleep anywhere in almost any position. 

Upright on the bare springs of a rusty bed? Yep, he’s out. Curled up in the corner of a shitty couch? Goner. Laid out on a hard rooftop while waiting for Hawks? Snoozing like a champ.

It makes Hawks, who takes forever to wind down, stupidly jealous. Like - what gives Dabi the right to conk out at the drop of a hat? 

It’s only as Hawks gets to know him that he realizes: Dabi also wakes at the slightest motion. If the air conditioning kicks on in a room, or someone sniffles too loudly. If a bird chirps outside, even. Brilliant blue eyes will open, alert and ready for a fight, even if Dabi makes no other outward motion. He’ll hold perfectly still, perfectly relaxed. Like a jaguar up in a tree, watching the wildlife move below.

Hawks asks Dabi about it exactly once. And he feels idiotic for not guessing the obvious response. 

“Living on the streets, you learn to sleep light or wake up with all your shit gone.” 

Well. Okay. Duh. Should’ve seen that coming a mile away.

The casual way Dabi says it though - with a shrug and a puff on his cigarette. Hawks hadn’t anticipated that. It’s like Dabi doesn’t care.

He finds out later, when he and Dabi begin sleeping side by side, that Dabi does care. And that his sleep isn’t as easy as it seems. 

There are nights when Dabi wakes up rigid, with blackened memories haunting the backs of his eyelids.

Those nights Hawks, still awake, can see those blue eyes blink open, full of pain. So he takes it upon himself to soothe what he can, and chase away what he can’t. He gives Dabi safety and care. Focuses on him. Lets the rest of the world drift away, until he finds comfort too.

It’s in those dark hours, when Dabi relaxes into something deeper than his shadow version of sleep, and Hawks follows him, that Hawks realizes they’re well suited for each other. 

In taking comfort, Dabi has learned how to really rest. And in giving comfort, Hawks has learned to let his body slow down. To match pace. To relax. When that realization hits, Hawks tucks himself under Dabi’s chin, smiling to himself when the villain doesn’t wake.

Then he lets himself drift off to sleep, easy as you please.

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 9th, 2022

I love the thought of both Hawks and Dabi being fully inexperienced in relationships. Neither of them have dated, and their relationship prior to the raid couldn’t be described as “normal” in any way.

So when Dabi gets out of prison and they start seeing each other… they’re a bit clueless. 

Hawks, the try-hard of the two, asks Dabi on a date. Dabi says “Sure, where to?” 

That’s when the realization hits Hawks that he has no idea how to date aside from what he’s seen in media. Couples in shows go on walks on the beach? They go to the movies? They laugh and hold hands and gaze lovingly into each other’s eyes?

Hawks looks at Dabi, scars faded and looking kind of self-conscious, and he realizes: that’s not them. 

So, what are they?

“Good question,” Hawks hedges. “I’ve never really dated, so I have no clue how it works for people like us.” Honesty, his therapist said, was really the best policy. Especially in a relationship that’d had so many trust issues in the past.

“People on TV go for like… picnics and shit,” Dabi offers doubtfully, shifting from foot to foot. Hawks assesses him. 

“Is that what you wanna do?” Dabi grimaces. 

“Grass irritates my scars and I hate ants.”

Hawks nods. Both of those are solid points. 

“Maybe we should start with what we don’t wanna do?” He suggests thoughtfully. “Like, anything in the water. I hate my wings getting soaked - they take forever to dry.” 

Dabi smirks. “And I’d just as soon avoid rusting.”

“Fair,” Hawks says, whipping out his phone and opening up the notes app. He types in the header ‘Hard Pass’ and adds ‘Anything in the water’ and ‘picnics’ to the list. 

Dabi snickers, looking over his shoulder. “Always so fucking organized, damn.”

Hawks, maturely, sticks his tongue out at Dabi. 

They spend the next twenty minutes adding things they don’t want to do out of all the dating tropes. As they chat, Hawks starts another list of things they wouldn’t mind.

Like when Dabi says no to fair rides, but yes to roller coasters. 

“Fair rides make me sick,” he says blandly. “For some reason, roller coasters don’t.” 

“Weird,” Hawks laughs but adds ‘roller coasters’ to potential date ideas. On that list, they also have gaming, go-carts, rock climbing, and, to both of their embarrassed pleasure, dancing.  

“I’m always down for Netflix and chill, too,” Hawks says with a grin. “All of these are exciting, though.” 

Dabi hums with agreement, his chin dropping to rest on Hawks’ shoulder while he wraps his arms around Hawks’ middle. 

“Looking forward to trying out some normal shit,” he says, sounding pensive. 

Hawks turns his head, his cheek rubbing against Dabi’s until he catches the ex-villain’s blue eyes. He grins when he sees the small smile gracing Dabi’s lips. 

“Me too, hot stuff.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 21st, 2022

Hawks has this great party trick where he can eat the spiciest thing on any menu without batting an eye. He has, in fact, won more than one bet this way, never letting on that his quirk doesn’t allow him to taste spice.

Underhanded food parlor tricks, Rumi calls it. Hawks simply calls it winning. 

One day, on a date/meeting with Dabi, he decides to try out his spicy trick on Dabi. 

“Bet I can take the devil level spice,” he says casually, nodding to the bright red and black section of the menu.

Dabi looks at him narrowly. 

“This some kind of pissing contest?” He asks bluntly. Hawks shrugs casually, as if it absolutely isn’t a pissing contest. 

“I’m just saying, I think it’d be easy.” 

“Okay,” Dabi says, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Okay, bet.”

So the staff, after much exclaiming and disclaiming, bring Hawks a plate full of burgundy chicken wings and a pair of gloves. 

“Bring a bowl of ice cream for the bird, too,” Dabi tells the waiter smugly. “I have a feeling he’s gonna need it.”

Hawks smirks to himself, already savoring the look of shock that Dabi’s gonna be sporting. The bowl of ice cream lands next to the plate of wings, and then all eyes are on Hawks as he picks up the first wing, sniffing it experimentally.

He can practically smell the scovilles coming off it. From across the table, Dabi is leaning back from the plate like it’s a bomb. 

Hawks smiles. Then he takes a bite. 

The flavor’s a bit strong. Kind of tar-like consistency on the sauce too, so it’s definitely not his favorite.

The reaction, though, is totally worth it. Dabi’s eyes widen. The staff and other customers gasp. More than one jaw drops open in shock. 

“Not bad,” he comments, patting his lips with his napkin before picking up another wing.

“You cheated,” Dabi accuses, eyes narrowing. “Somehow, you got them to swap out the wings.” 

Then, before Hawks can stop him, Dabi reaches across the table and snags one.

“Wait, don’t-!” Hawks starts, feathers zipping forward to snag the food. But Dabi’s teeth are already sinking into the wing, and Hawks can only think: oh, no.  

Dabi’s eyes go wide, and he pauses with the wing still caught between his teeth. His upper lip is already turning red.

“Shit,” Hawks says as the wing drops from Dabi’s limp fingers. The red sauce smears like a crime scene across the table top. 

“Ice cream,” Dabi croaks, reaching for the bowl desperately. Hawks shoves it into his hands.

Then he watches in astonishment as Dabi takes the entire scoop and shoves it into his mouth. 

“Wait-!” He yelps once again, anticipating another food disaster on Dabi’s part. Instead, the villain sags with relief, a moan sounding from the back of his throat.

“Did you just,” Hawks starts as Dabi works the ice cream around in his overheated mouth. “Did you just eat a whole scoop of ice cream? Without brain freeze?”

Dabi nods, eyes closed as he lets the ice cream melt. He swallows and exhales, his breath cold from across the table. Hawks goggles at him. 

Somewhere in the crowd, someone says, “That might’ve been more impressive than the wing.” 

Hawks finds himself agreeing with the sentiment.

“Don’t feel the cold,” Dabi finally says, blinking open bloodshot blue eyes. “Never had brain freeze before.” 

“Huh,” he says, while Dabi scoops ice out of his glass and crunches on it obnoxiously. 

“Guess I’m not the only one with food parlor tricks.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 25th, 2022

They know who Dabi is, and they know why Endeavor’s eldest son turned to villainy. After all, they have the redacted files on what Endeavor’s home life looked like.

Between Touya’s burns, Rei’s mental break, and Shouto’s hospital records, there’s enough content in that file to ruin the new No. 1’s career. 

There’s enough content to shake Hawks’ faith in the system. The Commission’s system. 

And they can’t have that.

So Hawks is ordered to stay away from Dabi - to find his way in with Compress, or Toga, or Spinner, or literally anyone else. 

They don’t count on Dabi being unable to stay away from Hawks.

The fire starter is curious and persistent. He wants to know why Hawks wants to join the League - why he’s avoiding Dabi at all costs. 

“What’s the matter, birdie? Afraid of a little heat?” 

Except Hawks isn’t afraid.

No, he’s observant. And he’s seen the nervous looks his handlers exchange whenever Dabi makes it into his reports. He’s seen the way Dabi fights. He’s heard every remark Dabi’s made about hero society. Some of which… he shouldn’t know.

Hawks observes, and the conclusion he comes to is disturbing at best, criminal at worst. 

Fortunately, the one who can confirm it is already firmly on the wrong side of the law.

So when he shows up at Dabi’s doorstep, questions burning the tip of his tongue, it’s almost unsurprising when Dabi cocks his head, a sly grin stretching his scarred face. 

“Finally ready to find out the truth, birdie?” Hawks’ eyes narrow, but he nods without hesitation.

“Tell me why you’re the Commission’s big dark secret.” 

Dabi laughs, stepping aside to let Hawks in. 

“Hero, you have no idea.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 27th, 2022

Hawks is very casual about sharing thoughts, questions, and observations with Dabi, and it's kind of starting to freak the villain out.

Like:

“Hey, does this look infected to you?” 

Or 

“I don’t stink, do I? My nose is too cold to tell.” 

Or 

“What shampoo do you use? Your hair is so soft!”

Hawks touches base constantly, normalizing normal conversations with Dabi that aren’t all “moral corruption in the government” and “the virtues and flaws of hero society.” 

No, Hawks will pop into Dabi’s room to steal a sock because Toga just stabbed a hole in his.

Dabi doesn’t know how to handle it at first - the familiarity and open disregard for his status as a big scary villain. Even the League isn’t so flip with him, having a healthy respect for his fire.

So, Hawks casually swiping his fries? Hawks bringing him piping hot tea from his sidekicks? Hawks spamming him with grumpy cat memes, asking “is this you?” 

It’s all new and weird and unnerving.

And it comes to a head when Hawks starts making a list of movies they should watch together because “even when I have time to watch them I don’t wanna watch them alone - c’mon Dabi it’ll be a cultural experience for us.”

Dabi looks at Hawks, uncertain and annoyed by his own uncertainty. 

“You’re not going to get special favors by acting buddy buddy you know,” he points out stiffly. Hawks looks surprised. 

“I thought we were just hanging out?” he says uncertainly, red wings tensing behind him.

“No one just hangs out with a wanted villain, Hawks,” Dabi says baldly. Hawks’ expression clears. 

“Well, that makes two of us. No one just hangs out with a pro hero either. So - Godzilla or Death Note first?”

Dabi waits for the other shoe to drop, but Hawks just looks up at him expectantly… hopefully.

“Godzilla,” he sighs. Hawks breaks out into a grin.

“Excellent! Going by the cover, this one shoots blue fire, so y’all can relate.” 

“What the fuck, birdie.”

“Hey you think if you and Spinner were ever able to have like, kids or something, they’d -” 

Dabi throws a pillow at the snickering hero, disgusted but also, strangely, trying not to laugh.

Maybe this is what hanging out is like after all.

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 9th, 2022

When Dabi gets hit with a quirk that prevents him from telling lies, nobody notices for weeks. 

Spinner asks Dabi if he thinks Stain would be proud of the League, and Dabi's immediate response is, "Hell no." 

Toga asks Dabi if he thinks she'll ever find true love, and he doesn't hesitate to tell her, "We're villains - we don't do love." 

Shigaraki tries to pry into why Dabi hates Endeavor so much, and Dabi shoots back, "Because he's a cruel piece of shit." 

See, the thing is, Dabi's honest. He doesn't sugarcoat or hold back with anyone.

Or, at least, that's what he thinks, until he meets up with Hawks for the first time since getting hit with the quirk. 

"Hey Dabi, how ya doing?" 

Dabi means to tell him to fuck off and mind his own business. Instead, what comes out is: 

"My back hurts and I'm fucking exhausted."

Hero and villain blink at each other in surprise at Dabi's candidness, and it's only then that Dabi realizes: he does lie to Hawks because Hawks is the only one who asks him questions he doesn't want to answer. 

"Dabi," Hawks ventures. "Has something happened?"

Dabi can't lie. 

"Yes." 

But that doesn't mean he has to spill his guts, unless - 

"What happened, then?" 

Shit. 

"A quirk." 

Hawks blinks long-lashed eyes in confusion as if wondering why Dabi's being so difficult. 

"Okay... what kind of quirk?"

Fuck if he's answering that. Dabi turns on his heel, booking it toward the entrance. Blood-red feathers catch him by the collar, dragging him back to face the hero. 

"Dabi, what quirk?" 

Hawks looks concerned, and out of sheer surprise, Dabi answers.

"Can't lie."

Golden eyes widen, then narrow again into calculating slits. Dabi curses internally, prepared to bring his fire to bear if he has to. No way is he risking whatever questions Hawks might have. 

"Is that so," Hawks asks quietly. "Then tell me..."

Nope, nope, nope. 

Blue fire rises out of the ground between them, and Hawks drops Dabi in surprise. He calls out something but thankfully Dabi can't hear him over the flames as he makes his escape.

It's only later, when Dabi squeezes through the window of his room, heart hammering from all the running he'd done, that he thinks about why Hawks scared him so badly. And the realization he has makes him feel like an idiot.

Because Hawks would ask about the League's plan, the noumu, All For One, literally anything else... before he ever asked about Dabi's feelings for him.

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 14th, 2022

Dabi discovers fanfiction and it’s mortifying. 

He’s still recovering from using his quirk in the wake of the High End attack, and - sue him - he wants to know what people think of his first confrontation with his dad.

Doomscrolling takes him through news sites, through hero and villain forums, through fucking Twitter, until morbid curiosity has him clicking on some kind of archive. 

In his defense, the tweet caption said “okay but what was with that intense thing between Dabi and Endeavor? 😳”

Heart racing, he clicks on the link posted, only to land on a… story? Of some kind? 

It starts with, “Blue eyes clash over a swath of fire, furious and as intense as the surrounding flames.” 

A bit melodramatic, but okay. If someone wants to romanticize their fight…

He discovers, as he reads, that romanticize is the worst possible word he could have used. Because this person is telling a story of he and his dad - of them, two fire users from either side of the law - star crossed -

“Oh, fuck no,” he whispers to himself, trying to click the back button so fast he leaves a scorch mark on the screen. 

He misses the back button, instead clicking on his own name, which inexplicably opens another page, with “Dabi | League of Villains” as the header.

The page has, apparently, 389 works. Works? Stories? About him?? Him and his dad?? He’s almost afraid to look, but his eyes catch on another familiar name paired with his own. 

Dabi | League of Villains/Hawks | Pro Hero

He blinks at the combination for a second before he registers the other words that follow their names. 

Enemies to Lovers, did you see them at the nomu fight? the fires weren’t the only thing that were hot omg, don’t like don’t read!, real life people

Confused and a little freaked out, Dabi skims down to the blurb about the story, which is apparently an exchange between himself and Hawks that rings FAR too close to accurate, and feels himself go a little faint.

“What the hell?” he mutters to himself, scrolling to the top of the page and noting the site name “Archive of Our Own”. 

Further investigation reveals it’s for… fiction. Mostly of existing shows or books or anime or whatever, though apparently real people are fair game too.

That… doesn’t make sense, though. He and Hawks have only been seen in public together once, and Dabi was trying to kill Hawks. There’s no way someone could have found out about their other arrangements. 

Curious and overly invested now, he searches his own name again.

The Dabi/Hawks one he saw before is at the top of the page. Thinking it must work the same as when he tapped his own name, he hits the link for their combined names. 

The page refreshes. Now down to 276 results. Dabi’s eyebrows raise.

Over two hundred people thought there was enough of a connection between himself and Hawks to write stories about them? That was fucking concerning. 

And the more he skims, the more embarrassed and alarmed he becomes. 

“How the fuck do they know what I call him?” he mutters.

“What the fuck, I can’t bend like that.” 

“Shit, can he bend like that?” 

Dabi feels his face heat as he continues to skim. Damn, there were a lot of people invested in him and Hawks fucking, often with a secret romance mixed in. It was uncomfortably close to the real thing.

“I would never say that, though,” he grumbles to himself after fic-Dabi tells Hawks they should run off together. As if he could ever leave his revenge behind. As if Hawks would ever leave his job. 

The description of fic-Hawks smiling his crinkle-eyed smile though…

It gets Dabi thinking about the real thing. And for just a second, he lets himself imagine what could happen if - 

“Enough,” he tells himself firmly, exiting out of the site, his heart racing for no apparent reason as he brings up his text history with the hero.

‘Yo, chicken fuck,’ he types aggressively. ‘Who tf have you been squawking to?’ 

He hits send before he can think better of it, and is horrified to see Hawks text back. 

‘What have I been squawking about? 👀’

Dabi sits there for a long moment, struggling with how he’s supposed to phrase: ‘the fanfics I found about us are creepily accurate and I sure didn’t say shit’ 

In the end, he leaves Hawks on read for a week until the hero forgets about the odd exchange.

(Meanwhile, 276 fics get new hits on them over the course of a week).

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 19th, 2022

CW: Injuries

No one has ever seen Hawks truly furious before. Excited? Yes, frequently. Afraid? Rarely, but it does happen. Angry? Twice before, and his fans still whisper about his expression being both hot and terrifying.

But no one is prepared to see Hawks with his lips pulled back from bared and bloody teeth, his eyes pinpricks of fury, and his wings bristling spikes at his back. 

He looks 𝙛𝙚𝙧𝙖𝙡. 

All, presumably, because of the man wrapped inside his bloody coat, cradled in his arms.

“Is that who I think it is?” Witnesses whisper as Hawks vaults into the sky away from the smoking building that’s drawn such a crowd. 

“It can’t be,” others mutter, watching as heroes descend on the location, pulling out criminals trussed up in red feathers. “No way.”

Word spreads fast, though. Nurses, doctors, and patients, too shocked to think of the repercussions. Soon, it’s all over the news.

𝙋𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙚𝙧𝙤 𝙃𝙖𝙬𝙠𝙨 𝙨𝙚𝙚𝙣 𝙛𝙡𝙮𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙑𝙞𝙡𝙡𝙖𝙞𝙣 𝘿𝙖𝙗𝙞 𝙩𝙤 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙝𝙤𝙨𝙥𝙞𝙩𝙖𝙡. 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙖𝙧𝙚 𝙩𝙝𝙚𝙨𝙚 𝙩𝙬𝙤 𝙘𝙤𝙣𝙣𝙚𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙙? 

The Commission scrambles to issue a statement, but Hawks beats them to it. The fastest after all.

“He’s my childhood best friend” the tweet reads. “He’s been working with me this whole time on a dangerous mission. Today, it went sideways.” 

The internet 𝙚𝙭𝙥𝙡𝙤𝙙𝙚𝙨.

Theories, speculation, and disbelief crash servers across the nation. “Hawks” and “Dabi” top the trending charts instantly. People demand more information with increasing fervor, and the Commission is right there with them.

Hawks blocks it all out. He’s preoccupied with burying his nose against Dabi’s collarbone, the villain’s hand clasped gently between his own. 

Dabi looks small in a hospital gown, with an oxygen mask strapped to his face and half his limbs wrapped in bandages and bulky casts.

Hawks takes in the bruised eyelids, the shuddery way Dabi’s chest rises and falls, struggling against broken ribs, and he feels that fury and fear pulsing under his skin like a living thing. Doctors and nurses alike tread carefully, and police stay back entirely.

It isn’t until blue eyes crack open, hazy and disoriented, that Hawks’ feathers finally soften. His frame sags with relief when Dabi looks at him, clearly confused by his surroundings. 

“Wha’ happen’d?” 

Dabi’s voice is rough, like he’s been yelling. Hawks’ feathers sharpen again.

“You were kidnapped,” Hawks explains quietly. A doctor appears at the door, and Hawks dips his lips to Dabi’s ear, explaining fast. “You’re my childhood best friend. We were working together on a dangerous mission and you got hurt.” He holds Dabi’s fingers tight.

“Wha-“ Dabi tries, but the doctor is approaching and they’re out of time. 

“Trust me,” Hawks urges, placing a swift kiss to Dabi’s temple. “It’s the only way you make it out of this alive. Please.”

Dabi looks at him with an unreadable expression. Then he looks down at himself. At the room he’s in and the care he’s been given. His lips thin, but he nods infinitesimally. Hawks gives him a watery smile, then turns to the doctor.

He doesn’t notice the confused look Dabi gives their linked hands. Nor the way Dabi tightens his hold just a touch. As if he’s afraid to let go. 

In fact, he wouldn’t have noticed anything at all if not for his feathers. But they pick up the sound, so quiet it’s barely a whisper.

“𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘺𝘰𝘶.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 25th, 2022

Both Dabi and Hawks are a little weird about food, as they eventually find out. 

Born into poverty, and trained to be a weapon, Hawks isn’t used to large or elaborate meals. The pre-portioned packs the Commission stocks for him are sufficient for his needs.

Occasional takeout is a treat that he hams up for his fans - making sure to be seen with a big bucket of drumsticks after a patrol while sporting a goofy grin. And, to be fair, he’ll eat the whole bucket with relish. 

Hawks always clears his plate.

Dabi, on the other hand, can cook. It’s a skill he uses whenever he’s able, making things his stomach can handle. But when money gets lean and options dwindle, he makes do. Even when it’s fish. 

Dabi doesn’t waste.

When Dabi and Hawks start seeing each other, it’s not immediately apparent that they have similar hang-ups about food. Hawks will bring takeout to their meetings, or, when things get more intimate, Dabi will make them breakfast. 

Neither of them leaves scraps.

It’s only when Hawks is accepted into the League that their habits become obvious. Living in the PLF mansion, the League has their own kitchen and access to any groceries they want.

Dabi starts cooking meals with better ingredients, in larger quantities. And for the first time, with everyone sated on all the rich food, there are leftovers. 

Hawks and Dabi get up at the same time, both of them reaching for the food that remains.

“I was just gonna box-" Hawks begins at the same time Dabi snaps, “Don’t throw it away.” 

They stare at each other for a moment, both startled. Meanwhile, Spinner blinks a sleepy eye open. 

“There’s like four bites left. Why bother?”

Two pairs of indignant glares land on him, and Spinner ducks his head defensively. 

“What? We’ve got Re-Destro funding us now. We don’t have to worry about food anymore.” 

Again, Dabi and Hawks’ expressions are eerily similar grimaces. Spinner gives it up as a lost cause.

It’s quiet as Dabi and Hawks carry the dishes to the kitchen, neither of them mentioning it when Dabi gets out the Tupperware boxes and Hawks starts scooping leftovers into them.

Once the food is stored in the fridge, Dabi heads to the balcony for a cigarette, and Hawks follows, drawn by some kind of weird kinship he didn’t know he could feel with a villain.

Dabi offers him a cigarette without a word, and even lights it for Hawks as they lean against the cold railing, staring out into the dark sky and the glittering lights of Deika city. Eventually, Hawks breaks the silence.

“Was homeless for a while as a kid,” he says, somehow knowing Dabi will understand. “Even before that, food was never really a guarantee. I don’t think about it much anymore, but…” he trails off, letting out the smoke in his lungs with a soft sigh.

Dabi doesn’t look his way or otherwise react. It’s quiet for a minute, and Hawks thinks he’s going to get the silent treatment when Dabi finally stirs. 

“Was on the streets too,” he offers, exhaling a stream of smoke that’s flecked with blue embers. “Those who wasted, died.”

“Yeah,” Hawks murmurs in agreement. They don’t say any more on the matter as they stand together, smoking in the darkness. 

And they don’t step inside until both cigarettes are ash.

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 31st, 2022

Dabi likes the temperature around 65 when he gets a choice about it. 

Hawks likes it at 75. 

This is just the first of their disagreements.

“Wear pants and a hoodie, it’s not that hard,” Dabi grouses, picking at his loose tank top as he cranks the AC down to 60 out of sheer spite. 

Hawks glares at the back of his head, disgruntled.

“I literally fly at altitudes that have me freezing all day. I refuse to shiver in my own house.”

“You’re free to leave,” Dabi snarks back, turning to face Hawks with a mulish expression that says he’ll guard the thermostat to the death.

Hawks’ glare turns calculating, then downright mischievous. 

“Okay,” he says. “I’m always down to compromise, hot stuff. You can keep it cold, so long as you’re keeping me warm.”

Dabi’s brows furrow in uncertainty. Then his expression clears with understanding as the feathers swoop in. 

“Oh, fuck you, Hawks!” he yelps as he’s swept off his feet and into the bedroom. Hawks follows leisurely behind, grinning to himself. 

“That’s the idea, firecracker.”

Least to say, they’re both warm a few hours later. And the next day, a thoroughly exhausted Dabi doesn’t even bother with the thermostat.

(It’s the first of a slew of issues they solve with rather unorthodox methods).

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 17th, 2022

One thing that’s oddly cathartic about hanging out with Dabi is that he’s experienced the harsher side of life just like Hawks has. It’s not something the hero actively notices until Dabi comments on it, though.

They’re meeting behind a movie theater, breathing in the stench of stale popcorn and old hot dogs. Unfortunately, Hawks is hungry enough for the stink to make his stomach grumble. 

Dabi shifts to look at him, and Hawks expects Dabi to ignore his discomfort like he usually does.

Instead, Dabi hands him the plastic bag that’d been dangling off his wrist. 

Curious, Hawks opens it and is hit with the rich scent of konbini meat buns. God, it makes his mouth water. 

“Are these for me?” he asks, glancing up. Dabi looks away.

“Since you forked over your lunch earlier,” the villain grumbles. 

Hawks’ eyebrows arch. He didn't know anyone had seen that. 

“Were you following me?” he pries, tugging out one of the steaming meat buns, blowing on it before he takes a bite.

He’d been in an alley similar to this one, using a shortcut to get back to his office after picking up a quick lunch of chicken tenders and fries. Usually, he didn’t mind mingling with people and signing autographs, but this time he’d wanted his food to be 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮 when he ate it.

Halfway down that alley, he’d spotted a homeless man leaning against a trash can. Looking between his meal and the man’s too-thin face, the decision hadn’t been hard.

How Dabi knew about it, though…

“Word travels fast in certain circles,” Dabi says with a shrug, still not looking at Hawks. His blue gaze is fixed somewhere in the middle distance, almost like he’s remembering something.

Hawks munches on his bun, thinking that the only circle that’d know of his good deed would be that homeless man’s contacts. So… 

Ah. Maybe Dabi wasn’t too far removed from that life.

“Thank you for the meal,” he murmurs, mirroring the homeless man’s words to him. 

Dabi shrugs again, and starts chatting business as usual. Hawks listens, his opinion of the villain shifting once more, adding a few facets to the remarkably reticent man.

𝘒𝘯𝘰𝘸𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘨𝘳𝘺, he thinks. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘥𝘰𝘦𝘴𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘤𝘦𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘵𝘴. 

He tucks those thoughts away, somewhere that won’t make it onto any report.

And if, at their next meeting, he brings enough food for the both of them? Well, that’s just how things work in their world.

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 22nd, 2022

For as competent as both Dabi and Hawks are at fighting and surviving, there are a few things their respective educations skipped entirely. 

Like learning to drive.

Dabi wants to learn, though. Even though it’s been years since the League fell and he did his time in prison, he still gets stares and freaked-out passengers scurrying away from him on the trains and buses. 

So: driving.

Hawks volunteers to learn alongside him, since he also never learned. It’s something new, he says, and one never knows when a skill might come in handy. 

That said, the process is rather nerve-wracking.

“Oh my god,” Hawks gets out, his claws buried into the ceiling, wide eyes staring out the windshield where the front bumper is mere inches from a brick wall. Dabi releases a weak laugh next to him. 

“Thought I had it in reverse,” the ex-villain says sheepishly.

Hawks turns to look at him as if to say, 𝘖𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺? 

Dabi arches an eyebrow, feeling defensive. “Which of us mixed up the brake and accelerator and almost ran our instructor over yesterday?” 

Hawks holds his silence. Dabi smirks. 

“That’s what I thought.”

Outside the car, said instructor writes another note amongst the litany of others he has on both Dabi and Hawks’ performances. 

Under the note, he adds a personal aside: 

𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘳𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

It’s only weeks later, when both hero and ex-villain are grinning for their driver’s licenses, that the instructor looks back on the note and scratches it out with a wry smile. 

(In his defense, he’s never had two students snark each other to the finish line before).

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 23rd, 2022

“How is it,” Hawks grunts from underneath the sink. “That you can hot wire a car, make a meal out of absolutely nothing, and blow up the government, but you don’t know how to fix a leak?”

Hawks can feel Dabi snickering since the ex-villain is sitting hip-to-hip with him outside the cabinet. From Hawks’ limited field of vision, laying on his back as he is, he can see Dabi reading over the instructions with a grin tugging at his lips.

“Practice,” Dabi remarks. “Had plenty of time to try the others. Never lived anywhere long enough to worry about the plumbing until now.” 

“That’s kinda morbid,” Hawks grumbles with less spice than before. He feels Dabi nudge his knee.

“Not all of us had a maintenance guy on call 24/7, number two,” Dabi reminds him. Hawks makes a face, half at the remark and half at the grayish water that’s just dripped onto his cheek. 

“In case you haven’t noticed, there’s no handyman here now.”

“How sad, little Takami Keigo,” Dabi says dryly. “Can’t use Commission lackeys when the Commission doesn’t exist anymore. Absolutely tragic.” 

Hawks mouths the words ‘𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘴𝘢𝘥’ mockingly at the pipes above him before he smacks Dabi with his leg.

“Make yourself useful and hand me the pliers.” 

“Yes, boss,” Dabi snickers, dropping the tool onto Hawks’ solar plexus, eliciting an ‘𝘰𝘰𝘧’ from the hero. Hawks snags the tool and goes back to torquing the pipe connector. Out of the corner of his eye, he can see Dabi peeking.

“I may be wrong,” Dabi says as Hawks puts his weight into the pliers. “But isn’t it ‘righty tighty, lefty loo-“ 

Before he can finish his sentence, the connector twists free, separating the two pipes. Hawks snaps his eyes shut as he’s positively 𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘥.

Sputtering and spitting out nasty grey water, Hawks tries to escape the stream and promptly beans himself on the pipe, making him curse. 

Meanwhile, outside the cabinet, Dabi is doubled over with laughter, practically laying on Hawks’ lap and further trapping him under the sink.

“Fu-uck you,” Hawks spits, wiping gross water out of his eyes and trying not to laugh himself. “If you think you can do better, you fucking try it.” 

Dabi’s snort echoes in the tiny space. 

“Birdie, I don’t think I could do any worse.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted November, 30th 2022

“Got the paint?” Dabi asks, looking over the checklist on his phone while tugging on a pair of gloves. On the other side of the furniture that’s stacked in the middle of the room, Hawks salutes. 

“Check!”

“The plastic for the floor and furniture?” Dabi continues, trying not to smile. Hawks switches to a thumbs-up. 

“Check!” 

“Paint tray? Paint brushes?” 

Finger guns accompany the “Check! Check!” and Dabi snorts. 

“Primer? Mixing sticks? Tape? Masks? Shoe booties?” 

“All check!”

Hawks does a ridiculous pose with a peace sign turned sideways next to his winking eye. He pops up a bootied foot for extra cute effect, and Dabi laughs outright. 

“Okay, well, we should be good to go then. You lay the plastic and I’ll tape the trim?”

Hawks nods an affirmative and tosses a roll of tape to Dabi before grabbing a big pile of plastic sheeting, which he spreads over everything they 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 want paint on. Between the two of them, the room is ready in no time.

“Bring me the tray and I’ll go ahead and open the can,” Hawks says as he pulls a pale of primer over to himself. 

Dabi does as he’s asked, then picks up the two brushes as Hawks pours the primer in the tray.

Seeing a final opportunity to snag a pic before he’s covered in paint, Dabi holds his phone in one hand and the brushes in the other, snapping a pic that captures Hawks’ concentrated pouring in the background. He sends it to Rumi, Natsuo, Shouto, and Fuyumi.

The caption reads: 

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 𝘸𝘦’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘺? 

Then he sets his phone down and turns to Hawks, tossing him one of the brushes. 

“Okay, let’s do this.”

Nearly four hours later, Dabi hears his phone buzzing on the floor beside him. He groans, unwilling to move from his prone position, his shoulders aching at the mere 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 of reaching for his phone.

“Hawks,” he grumbles. “Phone.” 

The hero grunts from the other side of the room, not looking up from his fetal position. He does send a feather to help, however, and Dabi painfully cranes his head as his phone is delivered into his hand.

He has about a dozen missed texts from his family and Rumi. All of which are in the same vein.

Fuyumi: 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘺𝘢, 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘰 𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘳𝘰𝘰𝘮 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴. 𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘶𝘱 𝘳𝘰𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘴? 

Rumi: 𝘉𝘪𝘨 𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬, 𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘺 𝘣𝘳𝘶𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘴 😂

Natsuo: 𝘏𝘰𝘱𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘛𝘺𝘭𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥… 

Shouto: 🫂

Dabi looks at the texts, then over at the two brushes poking out of the tray. He sighs.

“Hey birdbrain.” 

“Mmph?” 

“Next time, we use rollers instead.” 

“…mmmm.” 

“And we don’t tell my family or the rabbit that we fucked up. Got it?” 

A weak thumbs-up pokes out of the pile of feathers. 

“Mmhmm.” 

“Good.”

Dabi stares at the ceiling a bit longer. Then he picks up his phone and begins googling ‘couples massages close to me’. 

Chapter Text

Originally posted December 16th, 2022

“Your left knee is hurt.” 

Hawks isn’t sure why he says it. He and Dabi aren’t the type of people to comment on each other’s health, unless in sarcasm. After all, observing that the other is human is bad form in this dance of theirs.

Dabi pauses in putting on his sock, not turning around to look at Hawks. Not straightening up.

That’s how Hawks had noticed, actually. Dabi always re-dressed the same way. Boxers, socks, pants, shirt.

When he put on his socks, he lifted his right foot onto his left knee and slipped it on. When he put on his left sock, though, he bent down, even though it pulled the staples in his back. Almost as if he couldn’t bend his knee to reach.

Hawks had watched Dabi re-dress dozens of times now. Always with the boxers, socks, pants, shirt. Always with the bent right knee and stiff left. 

He still doesn’t know why he commented on it.

“Birdie, that better not be concern I hear,” Dabi says, looking over his shoulder. Hawks, still lounging in bed wearing nothing but the sheets, meets his gaze. 

“Just an observation.” Hawks shrugs. “Like how I know you broke your right index at the knuckle at some point.”

It was the way he held his chopsticks. Dabi was ambidextrous, and his left hand held chopsticks perfectly - index over top of the upper stick. With his right, however, he used his middle and ring finger. The index was too stiff to flex.

Dabi raises an eyebrow, twisting around to face Hawks and pulling his left leg, which barely bends, up onto the bed. 

“Now you’re just being creepy,” the villain says. “You watch me that much?” 

“I do,” Hawks says unashamedly. Dabi cocks his head. Silence falls for a long moment.

Dabi searches Hawks gaze and for once, Hawks lets him see what he’s thinking. Lets the emotions he feels play over his face. 

𝘐 𝘸𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘶𝘳𝘵. 

𝘐𝘧 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥, 𝘐’𝘥 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦. 

𝘐 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶.

Dabi looks away. Hawks represses a sigh. 

“I have a dozen bottles of ibuprofen all around my apartment. You’re welcome to any one of them.”

Dabi’s shoulders relax infinitesimally and he resumes putting on his sock. “Thought your feathers fetched everything for you. What the hell do you need so many bottles for?” 

Hawks smiles wryly.

“Sometimes even my feathers are too tired to move, hot stuff. Be like that.” 

“Sure,” Dabi snorts, standing up to fetch his pants, then his shirt. He takes care not to move as stiffly. “Well, be seeing’ ya, birdbrain.”

Then he’s gone, and the apartment is silent again, and Hawks realizes why they don’t talk about this kind of shit. 

Because Dabi’s scarred face had been open too, and his expression had been clear as day. 

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦.

Hawks’ chest hurts in a way that no amount of pain pills can help.

Chapter Text

Originally posted December 26th, 2022

“Why do you look like you have train tracks on your face?” Rumi asks, eyeing Hawks left cheek. “What, did you get in a fight on the way over here? That why you were late?” 

Hawks cups his cheeks sheepishly, rubbing out the staple imprints left from snoozing on Dabi’s beefy pec.

“Something like that, yeah,” he says. “Now how about we start with the karaage? It’s so good here, Rumi, holy shit.” 

Rumi complains loudly about his chicken addiction, like he hoped she would, and drops any further questions into the mysterious face marks.

𝘋𝘢𝘮𝘯, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘭𝘢𝘥 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘮𝘢𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘭𝘦𝘧𝘵, Hawks thinks, hiding a grin behind his coat collar.

Chapter Text

Originally posted January 4th, 2023

Hawks has been looking at Dabi weird lately. 

Mostly when they’re standing side by side in front of the bathroom mirror, getting ready for the day. Occasionally when they’re sitting next to each other on the couch. Hawks will play with a lock of Dabi’s hair and… stare at him.

Specifically, at his head. 

One morning, as he’s brushing his teeth and Hawks is styling his bird nest and shooting him glances, Dabi decides he's finally had enough. 

“What?” he growls. The effect is somewhat lessened by the toothpaste foam smearing the corner of his mouth.

Hawks blinks at him with wide, innocent eyes. 

“Nothing,” he replies, unconvincingly. “Just…” 

“Spit it out,” Dabi grouches, rinsing his mouth. “You’ve been staring at my head for days. What - I got a missing staple or something?”

“Noo, no no, I’d tell you if you did,” Hawks denies, waving his mousse-covered hands in front of him. His eyes flick back to Dabi’s head again. “I just have been thinking… and don’t you dare say ‘how unusual’ or something.”

Dabi, who’d been about to say just that, smirks, as Hawks continues to tease a bang into perfect springiness. 

“So what little seeds of thought have been rattling around in that birdbrain head of yours then?” 

Hawks sticks his tongue out at Dabi, but still replies.

“I wanna style your hair.” 

Dabi blinks, not having expected that. After a moment’s thought, though, he decides he’s not uninterested. 

“Any particular style you have in mind?” 

Hawks’ eyes light up and his baby wings flutter at his back as a feather zips out of the bathroom.

A moment later, it returns with a magazine, which Hawks catches in one hand. A few glossy pages flip under his fingers before he gives a small “aha!” and turns the page around for Dabi to see. 

The villain feels his eyebrows rise and his interest pique.

“I think your hair has gotten long enough for it,” Hawks says, peeking his eyes over the top of the magazine. The look on his face is pure delight. “You in?” 

Dabi licks his lower lip, letting his eyes flick between the picture and his reflection beside him, judging…

“Sure,” he says. “Why not?” 

Next thing he knows, Hawks is dragging a chair into the bathroom and lining up a whole slew of hair products on the countertop. For a moment Dabi tenses, but then Hawks’ fingers are in his hair, his nails scraping lightly over Dabi’s scalp. 

He melts.

An hour later, his hair is trimmed, and the majority is slicked back. A couple of locks fall across his forehead, which Hawks has called “cute” more times than he’s comfortable with. But the overall effect… damn.

“I look even more like a villain,” Dabi says, tilting his chin to get a better look. The long lines of his neck seem to entrance Hawks for a moment, before his blown out eyes meet Dabi’s in the mirror. 

“A very sexy gangster, really,” he says, voice husky. Dabi arches a brow.

“Oh, so that’s what this was. Preparation for role play.” 

Hawks bites his lip and Dabi lets a smirk tug at his lips, leaning further back into the chair, his shoulder brushing Hawks’ crotch.

“Do you want me in a black button-down shirt?” he continues in a drawl. “Rolled up sleeves? Tats?” 

“I have a pair of sapphire studs that’d look killer on you,” Hawks says in a hushed voice, brushing his finger over Dabi’s lobe. “And yes to all of the above.” 

Dabi laughs.

“You really did think this through.” 

Hawks grins slyly. “Been planning it for days.” 

“Figured,” Dabi snickers, reaching up to take Hawks’ hand, pulling it to his lips so he can place a soft kiss to his palm. Hawks’ breath hitches, eyes widening in the mirror.

Dabi holds his gaze, then sinks his teeth into the meat of Hawks’ palm. 

Hawks 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘢𝘯𝘴. 

Dabi smirks against his skin, then stands, still holding Hawks’ hand in his own. 

“C’mon, pretty bird. Let’s make your gangster fantasy come true.”

Least to say, Dabi keeps the hairstyle for the rest of the week.

Chapter Text

Originally posted January 11th, 2023

Hawks leaves his headphones behind at a meeting. Dabi gets curious. 

Slipping them over his scarred ears, mindful of his piercings, he’s pleased to discover how comfortable they are. Snug, but not squeezing. 

There’s no sound, but that’s not surprising. He digs out his phone.

Dabi: hey turn on ur music 

Birdbrain: u have more faith in my Bluetooth range than u do me. rude 

Dabi: as if you don’t have the most expensive tech on the market 

Birdbrain: … any specific genre? 

Dabi: put it on shuffle. wanna see how depraved you are 

Birdbrain: again, rude

A moment later, though, music sounds through the headphones, clear and surprisingly chill. Some kind of lo-fi? 

Dabi puts his hands in his pockets, strolling through the dark city, listening as the songs move from lo-fi to pop to punk to some surprisingly dirty rap.

Birdbrain: I can skip this one if you want 

Dabi: villain 

Birdbrain: right right - sorry, I forget sometimes 

Dabi doesn’t know if Hawks means he forgets Dabi’s a villain or if he forgets how to turn off being a hero. Probably the latter.

Hawks sends the occasional text, even into the wee hours of the morning, asking Dabi’s opinions or making commentary. Oddly, Dabi doesn’t mind responding. It’s the first 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 conversation he’s had in a long time.

Birdbrain: I actually saw them in concert, not that anyone knows 

Dabi: incognito? 

Birdbrain: nah, it was an outdoor venue. Just hovered above the crowd 

Dabi: didn’t even pay. some hero 

Birdbrain: oh no, are u gonna tattle on me? 

Dabi: walking into a police station rn, brb

Birdbrain: good luck with the metal detector 

Dabi: fuck off 

He snorts despite himself, pocketing his phone as another song - some kind of soundtrack? - comes on. 

The texts don’t trail off until nearly 4AM, and Hawks ends with a simple text. 

Birdbrain: enjoy the tunes 🪶🎵

Dabi doesn’t text back, but he does scroll back through the messages, seeing moments when Hawks had been excited, nervous, embarrassed… about how Dabi would react. It was surprisingly human of him. 

Another song comes on as Dabi walks along the docks. It’s slower. Sadder.

Eventually, he takes a seat on the end of a small pier, legs hanging out over the ocean, hands still tucked into his pockets. There’s a faint glow on the horizon, heralding the arrival of dawn in the next hour.

Dabi watches the sky brighten, feeling like his own eyes are opening as he listens to the music that gets Hawks through the day.

He doesn’t return the headphones, and Hawks doesn’t mention them either. But whenever he asks, music will filter in through the speakers, as different and multifaceted as the hero himself.

---

Omake

Dabi watches Hawks hit a window on YouTube. Shortly after, he sends a text. 

Dabi: to the window, to the wall 🎵

Birdbrain: I’m revoking ur music rights 😠🚫

Chapter Text

Originally posted February 2nd, 2023

One thing about growing up obsessed with training, being burned alive, going into a coma, surviving on the streets, and then becoming a supervillain, is that it doesn’t leave much time for hobbies.

Dabi discovers this when he’s looking over the list of prescribed activities the jail provides.

“Pottery,” he reads aloud, the list crumpling slightly in his nervous grip. “Painting, library access, flower arranging, gardening, workshop, if I prove trustworthy around tools…”

He frowns. “What the fuck is basket weaving?” 

His counselor clears his throat. “Pretty much what it sounds like. You learn to make baskets by weaving plant materials together.”

“Why?” Dabi asks, looking up. He’s unused to the clear view, but part of being processed meant his bangs - and his hair - had to go. Buzz cuts were the only allowable hairstyle in max security.

“Some people prefer working with their hands but don’t enjoy the mess of paint or clay,” the advisor says mildly. “We like to provide a variety.” 

“Huh,” Dabi says, looking back down at the list. Part of him wants to throw it in the counselor's face.

The rest of him knows this is going to be his only break from prison monotony for the foreseeable future. “Am I allowed to switch if I don’t like something?” 

“Of course,” his counselor says. “All you have to do is ask.” 

How… easy. Dabi’s not used to that.

Reviewing the list, he tries to decide if any of them look remotely appealing. What use does he has for a misshapen bowl? Or a crappy painting? 

𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘧𝘶𝘭, 𝘳𝘦𝘮𝘦𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳, he thinks.

His therapist reminded him at every session that things didn’t have to be useful to be appreciated or loved. 

Tentatively, he points at ‘pottery’ on the list. “Can I do this?” 

His counselor smiles slightly. “Of course. I’ll add you to the list.”

Dabi grimaces. “I meant… with my hands…?” 

Both of them look at the blue stitches that’d replaced his staples. His counselor hums. 

“I think we can manage some gloves for you, don’t you worry.”

Over the next weeks and months, Dabi fails a lot. He’s never scolded, never ignored. The pottery instructor shows him where he went wrong and then happily gives him more clay to work with.

Dabi hates to admit it, but he expects to be removed from the class after every failure, and every time he isn’t, it’s a surprise.

“So my issues are 𝘥𝘦𝘦𝘱 deep,” he confides with his therapist when they say this reaction is understandable given the rejection he experienced early in life. He’s almost gratified when his therapist chuckles.

In between therapy and pottery, Dabi gradually begins receiving visitors. Natsuo first, then Fuyumi and his mother. Shouto… after a while. It’s hard, but they keep coming to see him. Keep giving him chances. 

Like getting more clay to work with, without having to ask.

One day, his therapist lets him know that he has a new visitor request. From one Takami Keigo. 

Dabi sweats about it the entire week leading up to the meeting.

The morning before the visit, he has a pottery class. Oddly, when he arrives, nothing is set up. Instead, his instructor is standing by the shelves, looking over the finished pieces that Dabi and the other inmates had done in the past few months. He looks over when Dabi enters.

“Thought you might be a bit jittery today,” he says. “C’mere, though. Want to show you something.” 

Dabi approaches warily, his own gaze tracing over the lumpy, misshapen bowls he made over the past few months. They look childish compared to the pieces of those who’d been in the class longer.

“Just thought I’d give you a nugget of wisdom my instructor gave me back when I was in your shoes,” his instructor says quietly, surprising Dabi. “Growth, change... they take time. And it’s not gonna look like much at first.”

He nods toward Dabi’s very first attempt, which could generously be described as a lump. “But give it time and patience, and you’ll have something that works.” He picks up one of Dabi’s most recent attempts, which was a perfectly serviceable, if plain, bowl. He hands it to Dabi.

“Don’t worry about the first attempt,” he says, patting Dabi on the shoulder. “It’ll work out if you keep it up.” 

Dabi isn’t sure if he believes it, but he takes the bowl with him anyway.

And when Keigo asks about it, curious and unsure, Dabi hands it through the little gap in the plexiglass.

“It’s not much,” he says awkwardly. “But I’m trying.” 

Keigo’s gaze softens. “I - yeah. Me too.” 

Their eyes meet and dart away just as quickly. They’re both smiling though.

And when Keigo leaves, it’s with a bowl and a heart full of fragile hope.

(Meanwhile, Dabi returns to his cell and tries not to combust with embarrassment.)

Chapter Text

Originally posted February 16th, 2023

No thoughts, just Dabi “idgaf who sees me” Todoroki picking up groceries, take out, coffee, whatever, in the flimsiest disguises imaginable, giving Hawks grey hairs in the process.

“You could have been seen!” 

“I was seen. Four little middle school fucks spotted me picking up onigiri.” 

“Oh my god?? What happened??” 

“They ran off to look for a hero and I finished checking out.” 

“I - what?” 

“You know what would’ve been hilarious? If they’d grabbed you.”

The joke’s on Dabi, though. A week later he’s spotted again and Hawks is the only hero nearby. Thus goes the weirdest fight ever seen, full of cheesy one-liners and barely-dodged attacks. Finally, Hawks has to end it. 

Dabi still bitches about the black eye though.

“Coulda aimed for one of the places I’m already maimed, fuck.” 

“What’ve you learned though?” 

“That you’re a mean little bastard, that’s what.” 

“You learned I could wipe the floor with you if I put my back into it. So, will you be more careful?” 

“Fuck you.”

He is more careful. To only get caught when Hawks is in the vicinity. It’s hilarious to watch the hero fight him without being able to catch him. 

Soon, there are new compilation videos of their “near misses” calling them the new Batman and Catwoman.

(Dabi thinks it’s hilarious until Hawks comes home with a pair of cat ears for him.)

Chapter Text

Originally posted February 17th, 2023

Of all the things it could’ve been, it’s Hawks’ 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 bill that nearly gets them caught. 

The call comes on a Sunday morning, while he and Dabi are lazing about in bed.

“𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴. 𝘞𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸?” 

Hawks is barely listening. Whatever his handler is looking at can’t be as good as his view right now, which is Dabi, relaxed and naked, playing with one of his feathers.

It’s quite distracting if Hawks is being honest. 

“Hm?” he hums into the phone as his feather skims over Dabi’s warm and weathered skin. 

“𝘐’𝘮 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘰𝘱𝘺 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘮𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘩𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘭. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘵𝘶𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵 𝘰𝘧𝘧?”

Heat… Dabi… warm skin keeping him nice and toasty all night long. Hawks blinks, not quite comprehending the question until his handler sighs loudly.

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘵𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘺 𝘵𝘰𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘱𝘰𝘳. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘻𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴. 𝘌𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯.” 

Dabi looks up from the feather, one eyebrow arched. Hawks bites his lip.

“Ah, sorry,” he says with false cheer. “I forgot to tell you I got a, um, bed warmer.”

Silence echoes over the line for a long moment. 

“𝘈… 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳. 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴, 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘦𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦?”

Dabi’s lips quirk into a knowing smirk. Hawks has to look away before he can answer. 

“No, no, nothing like that. Just uhh… one of those heated blanket things. Yep.” 

“𝘐 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘦𝘦 𝘢 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘰𝘧 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘴𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵.”

“Hmm,” Hawks says. “It was a gift…?” 

“𝘞𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘨𝘪𝘧𝘵𝘴, 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴.“ 

“Oh, I got it when I was shopping.” 

“𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘥𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘱.” 

Hawks grimaces and Dabi laughs silently at his struggle. He gets tickled with a feather in retribution.

“I do too,” he counters. “I ran out of umm…” he casts his eyes around for inspiration. They land on Dabi’s lap. “Bananas.” 

“𝘚𝘰 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘸𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘤𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘴𝘵𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘣𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘴. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘨𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘦𝘵.”

“Yup, that about sums it up,” Hawks says. He has to cover Dabi’s mouth with his feather to smother the villain’s snickers, but he’s sure his handler can still hear them. “Did you need anything else?” 

“𝘑𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘮𝘦, 𝘪𝘴 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳… 𝘤𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘯?”

Hawks eyes Dabi dubiously. Morally? Psychologically? Physically, after their early morning exertions? No. Not at all. 

Sexually? Considering Hawks was his first… yeah. Definitely clean. 

“Yes ma’am. Absolutely pristine.” He bats his eyelashes at Dabi. “Like a snowflake, even.”

Dabi hits him with a pillow. On the other end of the line, his handler sighs. 

“𝘝𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭. 𝘌𝘯𝘫𝘰𝘺 𝘺𝘰𝘶𝘳… 𝘣𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘮𝘦𝘳, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯.” 

“Thank you, ma’am,” Hawks says with a grin. “I will.” 

With that, he hangs up and tackles a laughing Dabi into the sheets.

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 2nd, 2023

“Does your person have a tacky-ass costume?” Dabi asks, looking up from the custom-made Guess Who board. Hawks gives him a deadpan stare from where he’s lounging, one hand pressed into his cheek. 

“That describes half the people on our boards, Dabi.”

Dabi looks down at the array of hero and villain headshots they’d taped to the old game tiles and feels inclined to agree. Even Shigaraki, with his black shirt and pants, still sported hands of all things. 

𝘈𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘬𝘺, 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩? 𝘖𝘳 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘨𝘳𝘰𝘴𝘴?

It had been a slow night at the PLF mansion, and someone, at some point, dug up a handful of board games. Hawks had given Dabi a significant look when he snagged “Guess Who?” from the pile, and Dabi had followed him from the room, intrigued by what the hero had in mind.

Turns out, he has the best ideas sometimes, and they’d spent twenty minutes snickering, printing out various villains and heroes to verbally abuse in their boredom. 

Hawks had called it 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘶𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘴𝘩𝘪𝘵-𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨. Dabi just called it a casual conversation.

“Fair point,” he concedes to Hawks’ fashion observation, eyes trailing over the mugs of Mt. Lady, Spinner, Re-Destro…. 𝘎𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯. “Different question then: is yours an unbelievable douchebag with delusions of superiority?”

Hawks snorts. “Still not as specific as you could be, given who we’re working with but…” he eyes his card. “Going by who 𝘺𝘰𝘶 consider a douche? No, guess again.”

“Damn,” Dabi says, flicking Geten’s image down. After a moment’s thought, he also flips down Re-Destro, All For One, and Best Jeanist. The last one is purely based on vibes and the fact Hawks picked him as a target for death.

If Hawks hated someone enough to off them, they definitely had to be a douchebag. 

“My turn,” Hawks grins, wings flicking with amusement behind him. “Is yours even remotely subtle?”

Dabi looks down at his tile, featuring the beaming face of All Might, who was about as subtle as a beach umbrella at a funeral. 

“No,” he says dryly. 

Hawks squints at his board. “Worth a try,” he says, flipping down only two tiles.

Probably Eraserhead and Sir Nighteye, going by the people Dabi can see on his tiles. Hah, served the bird right for trying to knock out ninety percent of the board in one fell swoop.

Gazing over his remaining heroes and villains, he bites his lip to hide a grin. This question should clear half the board one way or another. 

“Is your person a villain?” Hawks makes a face. 

“That’s cheating.”

“Yes, well, we already know 𝘐’𝘮 a villain,” Dabi says smugly. Hawks flips him the bird. 

“Yes, my person’s a villain. You suck.”

“And I swallow, too,” Dabi cackles as he flicks the tiles for Mt. Lady, Kamui Woods, Snipe, Eraserhead, Sir Nighteye, and a handful he doesn’t really remember the names of. Hawks pouts adorably across from him. “You’re no fun. Next round no asking ‘villain or hero’.”

“Fine, fine.” Dabi waves a hand dismissively, eyeing his remaining ten tiles. “Your turn.” 

Hawks purses his lips, wings twitching at his back. His fingers drum idly against his cheek, then pause as a sudden wicked grin pulls at his mouth. 

“Could they beat me in a fight?”

Dabi freezes, staring down at All Might, whose heroic smile beams back at him. Fuck, the number one hero could flick Hawks into space if he could catch him. 

𝘞𝘢𝘪𝘵, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘶𝘮𝘣𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩!

“No, you could take them in a fight,” Dabi says innocently. 𝘐𝘯 𝘈𝘭𝘭 𝘔𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵’𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘺 𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘮, 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺, he thinks privately.

Hawks arches an eyebrow and purposefully doesn’t move to touch a single tile. Belatedly, Dabi realizes Hawks could take 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 on the boards. He laughs incredulously.

“If you wanted an ego stroke, all you had to do was ask, pretty bird,” he says, trying to sound smooth because no, that’s not hot. Not even a little bit. 

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬. 

Hawks just arches his brow further. Then, without warning, he reaches out and tips his tiles over in rows.

All except one. 

“You have All Might,” he says with certainty, beaming at Dabi’s look of surprise. “I saw you hesitate, hot stuff. Too bad we picked pics of All Might in his prime, huh?”

A feather darts over and plucks up Dabi’s card, dropping it onto the floor face up between them. Hawks’s grin is almost as wide as the former number one’s.

“Better luck next time, Dabi,” he says with an obnoxious wink, rising from his laid-back position to stretch. Dabi scowls at the hero’s gloating until Hawks leans across the boards and presses a kiss to his cheek.

“I do appreciate the confidence in me, though,” Hawks murmurs against Dabi’s skin. Dabi feels a flush heat his neck. He swallows. 

“Only reason you could take all that kindling is because I’m not on the board.” 

Hawks huffs out a warm breath and pulls back. His gold eyes glitter.

“That’d be too easy, though,” he points out, tapping one of Dabi’s still-standing tiles. “So many questions could rule you out. Like, is your person hot? He’s not? Can’t be Dabi then…” he tips the tile with a loud 𝘤𝘭𝘢𝘤𝘬.

“Do I have a major crush on your person? No?” he tips another tile. His eyes are so intense. “Am I meeting him in his room in the next five minutes?”

The question lingers for a moment before Dabi realizes Hawks expects an answer. Shakily, he nods his head, and Hawks grins slyly, pulling his finger away from the tile he’d been threatening.

“Must be Dabi, then,” he says sweetly before rising from the ground. He gives Dabi a look that’s anything but innocent as he turns to the door. “If Dabi knows what’s good for him, at least.”

Dabi blinks owlishly as the hero saunters out of the room. Then his brain catches up and he’s scrambling in Hawks’ wake, the game forgotten behind him.

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 3rd, 2023

Hawks is doing his early morning pushups while Dabi heckles from the couch. 

“Bet you can’t clap between each one.” 

Hawks gets three claps in. 

“Bet you can’t do them with your fingers.” 

Hawks goes up on two, just to show off. 

“One-handed?” 

Hawks does one 𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘦𝘳.

Dabi’s eyes widen, and even though Hawks is the one working out, Dabi’s the one starting to sweat - especially when Hawks smirks up at him. 

“I can do this all day, sweetheart.” 

Dabi licks his lips. “What about with someone on your back?” 

Hawks grins. 

“I got a better idea.”

Before Dabi knows what’s happening, feathers have scooped him from the couch and deposited him flat on the floor. 

Underneath Hawks, who bites his lip, holding a perfect plank over Dabi’s body, his palms bracketing Dabi’s head. 

“Think I’ll call this move the ‘kiss up’.”

Then Hawks lowers himself down, perfectly controlled, and presses his lips to Dabi’s. They’re salty with sweat, soft, and warm, and Dabi’s brain goes offline for a moment. Then Hawks is pressing up, breaking their kiss, and Dabi’s left with tingling lips and hot cheeks.

“If you’re kissing up,” he manages. “You’re gonna have to do better than that.” 

Hawks smirks, dipping down to kiss him again. 

“Oh, don’t you worry,” he whispers against Dabi’s lips, their chests barely touching. His arms aren’t even shaking, the fucker.

“We’re just getting started.” 

(Barely ten reps later, Dabi breaks and pulls Hawks into a full make-out session 😌)

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 10th, 2023

Hawks getting hit by a de-aging quirk but it doesn’t turn him into a kid. No, he’s 16 and confused as hell as to why he’s in some dark warehouse in the middle of the night.

The villain who nailed him with the quirk runs for it when he realizes he hit the number two, and not the League recruiter he was lying in wait for. 

So Hawks is left alone, in too-loose clothes, debating calling his handler, wondering if this is a new test, when Dabi arrives.

Dabi sees this gangly, quiet teen, and almost turns around. Not his monkeys, not his circus. But Hawks perks up when he arrives. 

“Are you part of the training, or…?”

That gives Dabi pause. “Training?” 

“Yeah - with the Commission. I figured you were a trainer…?” He suddenly looks uncertain. “Right?” 

Dabi gives him a flat look. “I’m not with the hero commission.” He looks Hawks up and down. “You are, though. You should call them.”

Hawks blinks, then his eyes narrow. “Right.” 

Dabi arches an eyebrow. “You don’t believe me.” 

Hawks folds his hands behind his back, military style. “Last time I woke up somewhere new, the test was to see how long I could last before I called for help.”

Well, that’s a fucking lot to unpack. 

Dabi looks at this teenage version of his part-time enemy, full-time puzzle, and he presses his lips together. 

“Yeah, I know a thing or two about waking up somewhere new.” He turns to the exit, nodding for Hawks to follow.

“C’mon, you’re with me.” 

Hawks snaps to attention with a salute, then scurries over to Dabi’s side as if his report card depends on it. 

“This should be interesting,” Dabi mutters under his breath.

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 14th, 2023

Dabi doesn’t know what the hell compelled him to take this scrawny, scrappy version of Hawks under his wing, but he’s fucking regretting it now. 

Or at least, his food supply is.

“How much do you 𝘦𝘢𝘵?” he asks incredulously as Hawks puts away the last plate of food that was in Dabi’s meager fridge. The teen freezes at Dabi’s words, looking up as if caught doing something terrible.

Dabi takes in the horrified expression and feels something shift as Hawks puts down his chopsticks and bows his head in what appears to be 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦. It’s not a posture he would’ve ever expected from the cocky number two hero.

“I’m sorry,” the teen says, fists clenching on his too-baggy pants. Dabi still hasn’t figured out what to do with the kid’s oversized clothes. Fuck, he hasn’t figured out what to do with the kid 𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘭.

A thousand thoughts crossed his mind when he saw a teen version of Hawks waiting for him in the warehouse instead of his older, smarmier self. The first, of course, had been ‘fuck no, this isn’t my problem’. The second had been ‘what the fuck is wrong with the Commission.’

The fact that Hawks thought waking up in a random warehouse with only a villain for company was 𝘯𝘰𝘳𝘮𝘢𝘭 was severely fucked up. And Dabi couldn’t help remembering waking up to white walls, creepy kid’s drawings, and a face he didn’t recognize in the mirror.

It’d probably get his villain card revoked, but the flash of sympathy from his own 16-year-old self was what made him decide to take Hawks in. 

Not how useful he could be without his older self’s memories, not the potential for turning him to villainy while young and gullible.

No, it’d been looking into Hawks’ wide eyes and seeing his own fear reflected from seven years ago. 

𝘕𝘰𝘸, of course, he’s had all those thoughts. What use teen Hawks could be to his cause, how best to turn this fucked up situation to his favor.

If only the brat would stop making it difficult. 

Dabi gazes down at Hawks’ bowed head and the last bites of week-old yakisoba that even 𝘩𝘦 wasn’t desperate enough to eat, and he literally can’t bring himself to fuck this kid over.

“Don’t - “ Dabi grimaces. “Don’t make that fucking face. Eat however much you like.” He pauses. “Well, of that at least. Shit, we’ll need to go shopping.” 

Again, wings and golden head droop slightly. 

“I’m sor-“ 

“I needed to go anyway,” Dabi says firmly, cutting Hawks off.

He slumps into the seat across from Hawks, trying to ignore the way the teen fidgets with his chopsticks. Finally, he runs a hand down his stapled face, covering his frown as he gives Hawks a long look.

𝘏𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘥𝘰 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘢 𝘴𝘮𝘰𝘰𝘵𝘩-𝘵𝘢𝘭𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘺? He wonders, eyes narrowing. Hawks looks up and meets his gaze. 

“You’re really not with the Commission,” the teen says with quiet certainty.

He doesn’t sound as scared as he should. Dabi files that away as something else that’s completely off about this situation. 

“I told you I wasn’t,” he says, arching an eyebrow. “What changed your mind? Me being 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 to you?” 

He says it sarcastically, but Hawks’ jaw clenches.

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭. 

It’s not his problem. It’s not. But he remembers a time when he felt guilty for existing, for taking up space. For not being what his father wanted. 

If Hawks felt guilty over 𝘦𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 of all things…

“Tell you what,” he says conversationally, tapping the table to get Hawks’ attention. “We go pick up food, you pick out whatever you want, and we come back here and chat about your handlers at the Commission.”

It’s a compromise with himself, he knows. If Hawks’ situation is shit, then Dabi gets to light some people on fire. Balance restored. 

If Hawks is just in some kind of teen rebel phase, then maybe he’ll actually be open to villainy. Balance restored again.

Just… anything to stop this empathetic yanking on heartstrings Dabi had long thought snapped. 

Hawks blinks huge eyes up at him, hesitance clear in his expression. Even now, he weighs his options carefully. But he surprises Dabi by nodding. 

“Okay, deal.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 18th, 2023

Hawks knows why he was chosen for this mission. Everyone did. He was the perfect candidate, after all. 

“Go back in time. Stop the League before they even form.” 

Hawks accepts, and the remaining heroes thank him. He tells them he won’t fail. 

Hawks also lies through his teeth.

For the first time in his life, he doesn’t put the greater good first. He lands inside his 21-year-old body and he hands in his resignation, leaving the position of number three hero behind. 

His handlers protest. Then they threaten. Finally, they manipulate.

“How many will die, if you leave?” 

Hawks doesn’t let the pang in his chest stop him. “A lot, probably. But there are other heroes.” 

Still, he tries to arrange for a few of the events he knows will happen. The earthquake. The building collapse. He can’t 𝘯𝘰𝘵.

But that’s the extent of his hero efforts. After that, he has one, singular focus. 

Finding Dabi. 

Which is… way fucking harder than it needs to be. It’s almost like the villain just 𝘢𝘱𝘱𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 one day and joined the League, even though Hawks knows that’s not true.

Dabi came from the haunted halls of the Todoroki mansion, he was resurrected on Ujiko’s surgery table, and then he went underground. 

So that’s where Hawks goes, too. 

He chases rumors of a patchwork man, rumors of blue flames.

It takes him months. But Hawks finally finds him. Bundled up to hide his scars, helping unload crates of fish from a boat. 

With his razor-sharp vision, Hawks can see Dabi’s nose wrinkle above his scarf and, unbidden, he remembers Dabi mentioning that he hated fish.

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺. 

He waits in the alley across from the docks until Dabi’s shift finishes, content to watch Dabi move, to see him breathing and cursing and sweating and 𝘢𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦. It sends his heart thundering against his ribs like it’s aching to meet its match.

But as the doors to the truck are closed and Dabi chucks his gloves into a pile with the other workers, Hawks swallows hard. It’s now or never, he knows, and his palms are sweating. 

𝘠𝘰𝘶 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘩𝘪𝘮, he reminds himself, wings rustling with anticipation.

𝘋𝘰𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘥𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘯𝘰𝘸. 

With that thought, he steps out into the pre-dawn light creeping over the docks. Dabi clocks him immediately and hesitates for just the slightest second. As if debating if this is the day he confronts a pro, or if he lets it go once more.

Hawks smiles at him, aiming for disarming, rather than terrified. 

“Hey,” he says, and he can almost feel history changing its course around them as Dabi cocks his head suspiciously. 

“Do I know you?” Dabi asks. 

Hawks’ smile trembles.

“Keigo,” he says. “Any chance I could buy you a cup of coffee?”

Chapter Text

Originally posted March 20th, 2023

“You’re softer than I thought you would be,” Hawks says to the ball of fluff in his arms. “Not that I’ve actually thought about how soft you would be or anything, but like, you know. Staples.”

The black bunny in Hawks’ arms doesn’t say anything. It just glares up at him with big blue eyes and its menacing teeth bared. 

“Right, I’m calling reinforcements.” 

Fortunately, Hawks has Rumi on speed dial. Unfortunately, she takes offense to being his ‘feral bunny resource’.

“He looks like he wants to bite me, though!” 

“Frankly, 𝘐 want to bite you. You don’t see me calling when I have bird problems!” 

“Name one bird problem you’ve ever had.”

“You, right now, asking me 𝘣𝘶𝘯𝘯𝘺 questions. Also that one sparrow that kept trying to break in my window last spring.” 

Hawks pauses, wondering if he’s willing to risk death. 

“So, you don’t know what I should do with a rabid bunny?”

Rumi makes a threat. Hawks apologizes. And Dabi, in rabbit form, bites him. 

Hawks adapts quickly over the next couple of days. He buys more vegetables than he’s ever purchased in his life, he acquires a little bathroom area, and, on the advice of the pet shop employee who was so eager to help him, he gets a leash.

For Dabi. As a bunny. God help him. 

“It’s supposed to be good exercise!” 

He tries to reason with the bite-happy rabbit crouched on his couch. He’s pretty sure Dabi hisses at him. He didn’t know rabbits could hiss.

“C’mon Dabi, let’s just get out of the house for a bit?” Hawks pleads. “I’m tired of being cooped up.” 

Dabi launches himself at Hawks’ guts. They go down in a flurry of feathers. 

Eventually, they do learn to cohabitate. They kind of have to when Hawks finally figures out what quirk Dabi was hit with. Apparently, it can last anywhere from two weeks to a month, and is called “Bunnification”. 

So Dabi will hop around the house, following Hawks as he does his chores. Hawks thinks it’s because he’s bored out of his little bunny mind.

When Dabi’s not following him, he’s munching on veggies or sleeping. It’s a bit unfair how cute he is when he sleeps because he freaking 𝘱𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘴. Hawks sneakily picks Dabi up a couple of times, settling the villain rabbit in his lap so he can pet Dabi’s soft fur without risking his fingers. Dabi usually doesn’t wake and Hawks is usually able to put him down before he’s caught.

𝘜𝘴𝘶𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺.

One night, though, Hawks is petting Dabi after pulling a double shift. He blinks blearily, yawning so wide that tears prick the corners of his eyes. Dabi shifts and Hawks swears he catches a peek of blue eyes, but the villain doesn’t otherwise react, so Hawks keeps petting.

He must have fallen asleep that way, though, because when he wakes up there’s a 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 heavier weight on his lap. 

Carefully, he opens his eyes, blinking when he sees a very human Dabi looking down at him, expression unreadable.

“Oh,” Hawks says. “You’re not a bunny anymore.” 

“How observant,” Dabi returns sarcastically. “Are you going to let go of me?”

Hawks looks down. The hands that had been innocently cupping a bunny when he fell asleep are now not-so-innocently cupping a whole new set of buns. Also Dabi is 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 naked. 

“Oh,” Hawks says again, much fainter. He looks up at Dabi’s expectant expression. “Uhhh.”

“Tell me hero,” Dabi says thoughtfully. He makes no move to get off Hawks’ lap. “Was the leash really for exercise or do you have some kind of collar fetish?” 

“Umm.” 

Dabi ticks an eyebrow. Hawks swallows.

“Not as a rabbit but like…” Hawks looks down again, eyebrows climbing his forehead at the sight of Dabi’s… carrot. “I would not be opposed to anything you wanna do right now.”

Dabi smirks. “Oh? Be careful, birdie.” He leans in close, lips brushing the shell of Hawks’ ear. “Bunnies 𝘣𝘪𝘵𝘦.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted April 12th, 2023

Hawks isn’t usually a hand-to-hand fighter. His feathers give him distance and fucking swords - no need to go busting his knuckles on every third-rate villain that comes his way. 

Doesn’t mean he can’t throw a mean left cross, though.

“You’re a fucking asshole,” he tells Dabi, who’s currently spitting out a staple. The villain laughs shakily, blood dribbling from his lips. 

“And you’re a vicious bastard,” Dabi returns. “Pot, meet goddamn kettle.”

Hawks scowls, sitting back on Dabi’s stomach, taking pleasure in the villain’s wheeze. The floor around them is covered in shattered glass from the window they’d crashed through anyway, and Hawks isn’t about to kneel on that shit when he’s got a perfect idiot cushion.

“Help me out here,” he says with faux confusion that covers the fear and anger still pulsing through his veins. “At what point did I indicate I’d catch you if you got thrown off a building? This isn’t just blowing my cover, it’s fucking it raw in a back alley.”

“Sounds kinky,” Dabi snickers weakly. “And as if you gotta worry. You just tell people you moved without thinking or whatever. You kept me from becoming concrete lasagna - ain’t like anyone will blame you.”

There’s probably a subtle ‘thank you’ buried in that little spiel, but Hawks is too pissed to hear it. 

“If you ever do anything like this again,” he growls, jabbing Dabi in the chest. “I will happily watch you eat shit.” 

Dabi snorts. 

“Sure, hero. Keep telling yourself that.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted April 13th, 2023

Dabi has to do a LOT of digging to figure out where Hawks came from - who his mother was. Like, fangirls have nothing on Dabi’s level of research. 

How does he know this? 

Because he reads all the most rabid Hawks blogs, looking for clues.

It leaves him with a lot of useless knowledge, like Hawks’ waist size and his preferred brand of cologne. 

He knows exactly which underwear brand sponsors Hawks, and that his hero name is a nod to the Fukuoka SoftBank Hawks baseball team.

He finds that Hawks never talks about his family and rarely talks about his childhood, which many of his fans respect - assuming he has some older parents to protect from the press or some shit.

Dabi knows that Hawks is one of the most-sighted heroes in Japan, and reads the breakdowns given of Hawks’ supposed schedules with interest. Some fangirls have even speculated that there’s a cloning quirk at play because like damn - when does the guy sleep?

Digging further, Dabi finds forums comparing hero contracts to pop idols’ “slave contracts”, where they’re expected to perform through injuries, illnesses, and mental health crises. Hawks is the most referenced hero in these comparisons. 

Oddly, those forums never stay up long.

He tries not to let the shit he digs up sway him, but it’s hard not to pay closer attention to the hero afterward. And what he sees is disturbing. 

Hawks just… never stops. 

He’ll be out at the crack of dawn helping rescue people from a sinking boat in the harbor. Then he’s patrolling the city for hours on end. Presumably, he stops to do work at his office for a bit, because he’s seen landing outside his agency. He gives a few autographs, gets to work, and then is seen again in the evening, running patrols and preventing traffic accidents.

On top of that, he meets with Dabi at midnight, and they spend an hour going over police records for a few of the villain groups in the area - determining if it’s worth making contact.

Dabi won’t make contact. He would never give Hawks that kind of heads-up. But he wants the hero’s analysis anyway. And he wants to see what Hawks looks like after working from 6am to midnight. 

The answer? Rough.

Hawks has concealer on. Dabi can tell because it’s partially covering his eye-markings - probably from the hero knuckling his eyes tiredly. 

His wings are also drooping. He keeps lifting them, trying to appear alert, but it’s easy to tell when Dabi’s looking for signs.

The term ‘slave contract’ comes to mind again, and Dabi tries to harden his heart against it. Tries to remind himself that Hawks asked for this. 

Except, after another week of digging, it becomes apparent that he didn’t.

The forum is buried deep, and they don’t use actual names. Probably how they’re still active, unlike the sites Dabi had perused in weeks previous. And he reads with extreme interest as they outline their theories.

𝘉𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘫𝘦𝘤𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘏’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘤𝘵 - 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘯𝘰𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘴? 𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘩𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘳𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘢𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘑𝘢𝘱𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥’𝘷𝘦 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘴𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘺 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘥𝘶𝘢𝘵𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘭𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦. 𝘐 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘪𝘯 𝘊𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘒𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘢, 𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘧𝘭𝘶𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘢𝘨𝘦𝘴.

𝘔𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘢𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘨𝘪𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘺 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘴𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘺 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦. 𝘖𝘯 𝘵𝘰𝘱 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵, 𝘸𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘰𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘊 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘯 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘣𝘶𝘵𝘦𝘥. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵? 

𝘓𝘪𝘯𝘵𝘓𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘳19 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘧𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘏 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘦 𝘍𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘰𝘬𝘢𝘯 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘴 𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘶𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘥𝘶𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘴. 𝘍𝘶𝘳𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦, 𝘔𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘢𝘢08 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘥𝘶𝘨 𝘶𝘱 𝘴𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘰𝘭𝘥 𝘴𝘰𝘤𝘪𝘢𝘭 𝘮𝘦𝘥𝘪𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦 “𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘭𝘦 𝘥𝘶𝘥𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴” 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘢 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘍𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘰𝘬𝘢. 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘳𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘏 𝘨𝘳𝘦𝘸 𝘶𝘱 𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦 𝘍𝘶𝘬𝘶𝘰𝘬𝘢 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦 𝘶𝘱 𝘶𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵. 

𝘐 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘸𝘰 𝘢𝘥𝘥𝘪𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺. 1) 𝘏 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘱𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘣𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘊 𝘢𝘧𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘳 𝘢𝘤𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘵 𝘢𝘯𝘥 2) 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘮 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰.

𝘞𝘩𝘺? 𝘉𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘦 𝘢𝘵 18, 𝘧𝘶𝘭𝘭𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘮𝘰𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯 𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴 𝘵𝘸𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘦. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘨𝘰 𝘵𝘰 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘴𝘤𝘩𝘰𝘰𝘭, 𝘢𝘴 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘸𝘯 𝘪𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘺 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘣𝘰𝘰𝘬 𝘰𝘯 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥. 𝘚𝘰: 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘏𝘊. 𝘞𝘦 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘳𝘶𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘷𝘪𝘴𝘪𝘰𝘯𝘢𝘭 𝘭𝘪𝘤𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮 - 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘶𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘧 𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘤𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘪𝘮𝘢𝘨𝘪𝘯𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯 𝘢 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰? 𝘐𝘵’𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘰𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦𝘴 𝘴𝘦𝘯𝘴𝘦. 

It does make sense, and Dabi makes sure to save the screenshots referencing the little winged child. Because if he can track down the posters, find where they were saved…

He sets those thoughts aside and focuses back on the fact that Hawks was likely 𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘴𝘦𝘥 by the Commission. 

𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘩𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘢 𝘥𝘰𝘨. 𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘯 𝘵𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘦.

It solidifies the fact that Hawks is a liar in Dabi’s mind. But oddly, it makes his chest tighten at the same time. 

Hawks the traitor. Hawks the hero. Hawks the man who’s going to burn out under the heel of his masters. It’s a fucking shame.

𝘈 𝘴𝘩𝘢𝘮𝘦, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘱𝘳𝘰𝘣𝘭𝘦𝘮. 

He has his own shit to deal with.

(It’s not his problem until months later, when they’re both recovering, and Hawks asks how Dabi found his name. Dabi has to admit how many hours he spent on fangirl accounts, learning Hawks trivia. Curious, Hawks quizzes him and, to his chagrin, Dabi knows every answer) 🤭

Chapter Text

Originally posted April 16th, 2023

Hawks has been made a weapon in many ways. From his wit, to his training, to the 56 ways he can end a person with his feathers. He’s used them all to devastating effect. 

But there’s one weapon he’s never been trained to use. 

The puppy dog eyes.

Unfortunately, the same can’t be said of Dabi. 

“Of all the things you’ve ever done,” Hawks mutters under his breath as he brings the villain another blanket. “𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 should be the most illegal.” 

Dabi just gazes piteously up at him until the blanket is forked over.

Then he smirks. 

“Shoulda grown up with siblings, hero. You’d be immune to this shit.” 

Hawks’ eyes narrow. 

𝘖𝘩, 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺?

Ever the perfectionist, Hawks takes it upon himself to learn the art of the puppy dog eyes.

It just so happens that the only siblings he knows well enough to study are the Todoroki siblings. And he gets his opportunity to watch the puppy dog eyes in action when he’s invited to their family dinner less than a week later. 

(Shouto, in particular, reminds him of Dabi).

𝘏𝘶𝘩. 𝘞𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥.

Many coincidences and inferences later, and Hawks has not one, but TWO new weapons in his arsenal. 

Which means that when they meet again, Dabi’s not expecting Hawks to turn the most doleful eyes his way and asks: 

“Can we get KFC tonight, Touya?” 🥺

Chapter Text

Originally posted April 24th, 2023

Teen Touya on the streets, trying not to be seen as vulnerable. Trying to survive. 

It’s both harder and easier than he thought it’d be. 

His quirk levels much of the playing field, since not many people are keen on getting scorched.

His temper, on the other hand, gets him into constant trouble. He’ll find a job, work it quietly until someone makes a pass at him, or mentions Endeavor, or generally pisses him off. 

Then it’s up in flames all over again.

His reputation begins to precede him, and he’s sought out for his quirk. Some people can handle the heat longer, but all of them eventually get out of the kitchen. Touya’s just too much of a wildcard. 

Until Giran.

“You got all these lowlifes tuckin’ their tails,” he says lazily, blowing smoke into the air. “Makes a guy interested, ya know?” 

“I don’t play that game,” Touya bites out, flames dancing along his knuckles. Giran just chuckles.

“Got better prospects than your scrawny ass, anyway, kid.” He leans forward to stub out his cigarette. “Could use a cannon in my contacts, though. Plenty of jobs for ya, from discernin’ customers. You interested?”

Touya narrows his eyes. 

“What kind of jobs?” 

It’s the beginning of a beautiful partnership, between a broker and his tank. Touya - or Dabi, as they decide on - thrives on being useful, and Giran enjoys having a bit more firepower behind his name.

He also enjoys watching the kid grow into his own. Dabi had a reputation as a short fuse, but as the kid gets older… Giran is amused to notice some emulation happening.

Dabi considers his responses more. Looks for what he can get out of people. Leans back instead of leaning in. He even develops a sarcastic drawl that Giran would recognize anywhere. After all, he usually hears it in his own smoke-crackled voice.

It’s funny, but he never brings it up. The kid needed to survive the streets, and his temper wasn’t gonna cut it. Might as well let him pick up some healthy habits. 

Imitation was the sincerest form of flattery, or whatever, right?

Dabi doesn’t mention the mannerisms he borrows, but he is aware that he’s begun mirroring his mentor. Giran just had a way about him that made people pay attention - made them wary, without having their guns out.

And Dabi likes the power that comes with appearing relaxed in a standoff. He likes people watching him from a healthy distance. 

(He likes that he’s no longer that stupid crybaby kid, chasing after a father who didn’t want him).

Maybe Giran chuckles at him occasionally, but he’s comfortable enough now to tell the old man to fuck off.

(At least Giran never gets angry with him).

Chapter Text

Originally posted June 6th, 2023

Hawks has three days to grow his wings back after the High End incident and, as always, he spends them productively. 

By trying to figure out what the 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘭 Dabi was thinking. 

“Comes into my town, fucks up my city,” he grumbles aloud, knocking back a painkiller with coffee.

He’s in sweats and fuzzy socks, his bedraggled wings draped over the low back of his couch. His laptop warms his thighs as he scrolls ever deeper into the Internet, trying to validate his gut feelings. 

Dabi had something personal against Endeavor, and Hawks is going to prove it.

Fortunately, the Internet seems to be on his side. There’s speculation everywhere about yesterday’s fight, and why Dabi would show up at the end only to fuck off again without doing any more damage. 

Miruko’s fans have the obvious answer, but Hawks thinks it’s deeper than that.

And he’s not alone. 

𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘩𝘢𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘯𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘢𝘭𝘺𝘴𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘈𝘔𝘑𝘳𝘕𝘰1 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘨𝘪𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘵𝘳𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘦𝘷𝘪𝘥𝘦𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪’𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦𝘴 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘵𝘰 𝘬𝘪𝘭𝘭 𝘰𝘯 𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘤𝘵. One poster writes. 𝘞𝘩𝘺 𝘥𝘪𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘩𝘦 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘢𝘭𝘭 𝘵𝘩𝘳𝘦𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘰𝘶𝘵?

Another poster points out: 𝘔𝘪𝘳𝘶𝘬𝘰’𝘴 𝘣𝘢𝘥𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯 𝘴𝘩𝘦 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘴 𝘵𝘰 𝘭𝘢𝘯𝘥. 𝘊𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘥𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘧𝘭𝘰𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘴 𝘭𝘢𝘷𝘢.

An excellent point. 

𝘋𝘪𝘥 𝘢𝘯𝘺𝘰𝘯𝘦 𝘦𝘭𝘴𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬 𝘪𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘦𝘪𝘳𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘺𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘌𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳’𝘴 𝘤𝘪𝘷𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘢𝘯 𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦? 

Hawks sure thought it was weird. Dabi had only ever used derogatory nicknames for heroes around him.

He scrolls through hundreds of takes, most of them pointing out the fight’s oddities. Very few with speculation on why they occurred. 

Hawks’ eyes are glazing a bit by the time he finally comes across something interesting.

𝘋𝘦𝘬𝘶𝘍𝘢𝘯14 

𝘏𝘦𝘢𝘳 𝘮𝘦 𝘰𝘶𝘵: 𝘐 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘢 𝘸𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘺. 

𝘊𝘰𝘯𝘵𝘦𝘹𝘵: 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘸𝘰𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘦𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘥 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴. 

𝘈𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘳𝘯𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘴𝘶𝘨𝘨𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘴, 𝘐’𝘮 𝘢 𝘧𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘧 𝘋𝘦𝘬𝘶 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘱𝘰𝘳𝘵𝘴 𝘧𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘷𝘢𝘭. 𝘔𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘭𝘺 𝘣𝘦𝘤𝘢𝘶𝘴𝘦 𝘐 𝘳𝘦𝘭𝘢𝘵𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘪𝘮. 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘶𝘴 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘨𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘢 𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘰𝘨𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?

𝘞𝘩𝘪𝘤𝘩 𝘪𝘴 𝘸𝘩𝘺 𝘐 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘶𝘺 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘵’𝘴 𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺 𝘪𝘴 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘭𝘦 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬.

Hawks nods as he reads. The Commission had already guessed as much, but he wants to see where this person is going with the theory. 

𝘐’𝘷𝘦 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘵, 𝘢𝘴 𝘪𝘵 𝘦𝘧𝘧𝘦𝘤𝘵𝘴 𝘮𝘺 𝘥𝘢𝘺-𝘵𝘰-𝘥𝘢𝘺 𝘭𝘪𝘧𝘦, 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘸𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘦 𝘣𝘢𝘤𝘬 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘱𝘢𝘱𝘦𝘳 𝘸𝘳𝘪𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘣𝘺 𝘋𝘰𝘤𝘵𝘰𝘳 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘢, 𝘥𝘦𝘵𝘢𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘰𝘸 𝘰𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘴 𝘤𝘢𝘯 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳.

𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘦𝘹𝘢𝘮𝘱𝘭𝘦 𝘩𝘦 𝘶𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥, 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘢 𝘋𝘦𝘬𝘶 𝘧𝘢𝘯, 𝘮𝘺 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘴𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘰𝘧 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘢𝘨𝘢𝘪𝘯𝘴𝘵 𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰. 𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘵𝘩 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬𝘴.

𝘖𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘧 𝘴𝘩𝘦𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘶𝘤𝘬𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘶𝘳𝘪𝘰𝘴𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘐 𝘨𝘰𝘰𝘨𝘭𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘩𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳 𝘰𝘳 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘐𝘵 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘰 𝘣𝘦 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬𝘴. 

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘪𝘴: 𝘩𝘦 𝙙𝙤𝙚𝙨.

𝘏𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘯 𝘰𝘭𝘥𝘦𝘳 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘮𝘰𝘮 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘥, 𝘸𝘩𝘰 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥 10 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘳𝘴 𝘢𝘨𝘰. 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 𝘧𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘥 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘣𝘰𝘥𝘺. 

Hawks is paying full attention now. There’s no fucking way…

𝘕𝘰 𝘸𝘢𝘺, 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵?? 𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘯… 𝘸𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪’𝘴 𝘣𝘦𝘦𝘧 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘌𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳? 𝘞𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢𝘣𝘰𝘶𝘵 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘤𝘩𝘦𝘴 𝘶𝘱 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘰𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘴 𝘋𝘳. 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘥?

𝘋𝘳. 𝘛𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘢𝘴𝘢 𝘴𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘧𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩 𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳. 𝘛𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢 75% 𝘤𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘤𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘢 𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘰𝘳𝘯 𝘧𝘳𝘰𝘮 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘪𝘤𝘦 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘣𝘪𝘭𝘪𝘵𝘺, 𝘪𝘯𝘤𝘭𝘶𝘥𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘤𝘰𝘭𝘥-𝘵𝘰𝘭𝘦𝘳𝘢𝘯𝘵 𝘴𝘬𝘪𝘯 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘸𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘢 𝘧𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬. 𝘐 𝘮𝘢𝘺 𝘣𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵 𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵𝘴 𝘴𝘰 𝘸𝘦𝘭𝘭 𝘐 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥𝘯’𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘪𝘵 𝘢𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘦.

𝘚𝘰… 𝘺𝘦𝘢𝘩. 𝘛𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩𝘵𝘴 𝘰𝘯 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪 𝘣𝘦𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘚𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘵𝘰’𝘴 𝘭𝘰𝘯𝘨 𝘭𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳? 

Hawks is thunderstruck when he reaches the end of the post. He can’t even bring himself to read the replies. The number of upvotes on the post shows that people agree.

Well, shit. What now?

Chapter Text

Originally posted June 26th

Dabi isn’t a nice guy, but he keeps unintentionally doing nice things for Hawks, and it’s driving him nuts. 

It starts like this: 

“Oh my god, I could kiss you.” 

That’s how Hawks greets him one night, practically skipping into the abandoned warehouse Dabi had picked.

Immediately, Dabi’s on guard. 

“What the hell are you talking about, hero?” 

Ignoring the fact that Dabi’s been fantasizing about kissing Hawks for quite a while, this is very weird for the hero. Especially when Hawks beams at him, eyes all glittery.

“You’re the one who took out the Makara gang, right? All the reports mention the blue fire and I remember you talking about meeting one of their leaders last week.” Hawks clasps Dabi’s hand between his own. “They’ve been a fucking thorn in my side for five years.”

Dabi stares at him, wide-eyed, and says the first thing that comes to mind. 

“They tried to give me a girl in exchange for League protection.” 

Shit, that was probably a bit too noble a reason, fuck - 

“Doesn’t surprise me,” Hawks says, more serious. “I’m glad you took them out.”

Dabi shakes Hawks off and stuffs his hands in his pocket, feeling flustered. 

“Yeah, well. Don’t count on it being a regular thing. Still a villain.” 

Hawks puts his hands up in mock surrender, still too amused for Dabi’s taste. 

“Got it, hot stuff. Just a hero in 𝘮𝘺 book.”

“Whatever, birdbrain.” 

—— 

Things go back to normal for two weeks, until Dabi calls Hawks on short notice, as is his wont. 

He doesn’t even need the bird, but you’d think Hawks’ tail feathers were on fire with how quickly he bursts through the skylight less than ten minutes later.

“Oh my god, how did you 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸?” 

Dabi crosses his arms, his pithy welcome dying on his lips. “Know what?” 

“That I was about to die of boredom at that gala,” Hawks whines, slumping pitifully against the wall next to Dabi’s knees. “Was going to make up an emergency when I saw your text.” 

Dabi rolls his eyes. “Oh how sad, being subjected to all that good food and booze.” 

“And paparazzi and handsy fans,” Hawks adds without humor. “Seriously, my face was gonna fall off if I had to force one more fake grin so… thanks.”

The hero offers him a small, genuine smile that does something horrible to Dabi’s insides. So he scoffs and looks away. 

“Yeah, yeah, happy coincidence, pigeon.” 

—— 

Dabi can’t help but think of the Gala Incident the next time he sees Hawks being interviewed, his wings tight and his smile plastic. Which is why the villain purposefully does 𝘯𝘰𝘵 call the hero to bail him out. 

Unfortunately, an overeager recruit decides to challenge Dabi to a duel to earn his place in the League, and the resulting firefight summons Hawks from his interview regardless.

“God, I love you,” Hawks whispers directly into Dabi’s ear when he lands at Dabi’s side. 

(Dabi still has goosebumps even after Hawks leaves with the trussed-up recruit in tow.) 

—— 

The last straw comes when Dabi is genuinely not paying attention.

If he’s daydreaming about Hawks’ smile, that’s no one’s business but his own. 

The point is, he’s not counting the number of onigiri he’s making. It’s a repetitive process - wet hands, gather rice, fold in filling, press into a triangle, wrap with seaweed, and repeat.

He’s made double what one person could eat on their own when a hopeful voice pipes up behind him. 

“Are some of those for me?” 

Dabi startles at the question, turning to see Hawks with his wings perked up and his golden eyes begging shamelessly for a morsel.

He literally can’t say no. 

“You’re a villain, right? Take what you want.” 

Hawks blinks in surprise. Then an entirely different kind of hunger fills his eyes. 

“What I want, huh?”

Dabi’s unprepared for Hawks to step into his space, and all he can think is 𝘸𝘰𝘸 𝘩𝘦 𝘴𝘮𝘦𝘭𝘭𝘴 𝘯𝘪𝘤𝘦 before Hawks cups the back of his head and draws him in for a swift, breathtaking, kiss. 

𝘖𝘩. 

It’s better than he dreamed. Soft and hot and 𝘸𝘰𝘸 that’s 𝘵𝘰𝘯𝘨𝘶𝘦.

Moral of the story? 

Maybe doing nice things isn’t all bad.

Chapter Text

Originally posted June 27th, 2023

Hawks - who flings himself through his morning routine, hair mussed and running late because of a certain arsonist - grabs the wrong boots. 

Thick-soled and goth as fuck, they clash with his golden outfit enough for 𝘮𝘢𝘯𝘺 of his adoring public to notice.

Unfortunately, that means headlines. 

𝘗𝘳𝘰 𝘏𝘦𝘳𝘰 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴 𝘮𝘪𝘹𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘱𝘰𝘱 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘱𝘶𝘯𝘬! 

𝘊𝘰𝘮𝘦 𝘵𝘰 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘥𝘢𝘳𝘬 𝘴𝘪𝘥𝘦, 𝘸𝘦 𝘩𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴. 

𝘞𝘩𝘰 𝘪𝘴 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴’ 𝘦𝘮𝘰 𝘨𝘪𝘳𝘭𝘧𝘳𝘪𝘦𝘯𝘥?

It’s mortifying. Especially when he gets a text from Dabi halfway through the day. 

It’s a picture of his black jeans, ending in a pair of puffy chicken slippers. 

𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘴𝘦 𝘢𝘳𝘦 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘵 𝘧𝘪𝘵. 𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘥.

Fatalistically, he goes all in on his reply. 

𝘐𝘧 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘴𝘩 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘤𝘳𝘦𝘴𝘵, 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘺 𝘣𝘰𝘬 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘺𝘰𝘶! 

Then his courage fails and he stuffs his phone in his pocket, ignoring the numerous texts buzzing through.

He has a job to do, after all. 

Which is the excuse he uses when anyone asks about the shoes. And between reporters, curious sidekicks, and overzealous fans, he does a lot of excusing throughout the day.

Still, when he has a villain encounter in the afternoon, and he kicks a gun from their hand with the steel tip of Dabi’s boot, he contemplates keeping them. 

Even more so when he goes for his mid-afternoon coffee in the break room and he can reach the mugs on the third shelf.

“Wonder if he really has an inch on me after all,” Hawks mutters to himself as he sips away, delaying his fate. 

Sadly, the end of his shift comes far too quickly, and he flaps his way home with the mien of a man on death row.

(Pictures later emerge of this reluctant death flight, proliferating the meme of Hawks entering his “emo phase”.) 

Hawks doesn’t know this. Just like he doesn’t know Dabi’s been scrolling Twitter all day, inhaling fanart of Hawks decked out in black and chains, thirsting hard.

He figures it out pretty quickly when he lands louder than normal on the balcony, an excuse already forming on his lips, only to be stopped in his tracks by Dabi’s burning gaze. 

“Boots off,” the villain orders, voice almost a growl.

Hawks obeys without question, stomach jolting with sheepishness and hot anticipation. Dabi, smiling salaciously, doesn’t disappoint. 

“Now everything else.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted July 5th, 2023

Dabi’s minding his own business, laying low after the whole Kamino Ward incident, when the town he’s staying in gets struck by an earthquake.

He’s on the subway when it hits, and there are cave-ins on both ends of the tunnel, trapping him and all the other passengers underground with no signal, not much air, and continuous tremors threatening to crush them all.

As a villain, he’s not one to wait for a rescue, and none of the other sheep are comfortable using their quirks because they’re not 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘦𝘴. So he pushes to the front of the crowd and just starts melting through concrete, pipes, and debris.

It’s grueling, sweaty work but the other trapped passengers start cheering him on, encouraging him and offering him water, which he declines. If he takes his mask off, he’s not fucking dealing with the screaming and panic from a bunch of civilians.

An hour later, and they can finally see light. Dabi’s on the brink of collapse, but after his quirk has burned their oxygen so low, the fresh air is a relief. 

Just as the hole opens wide enough for a person to pass through, a concrete chunk comes loose and cracks Dabi in the head.

He falls to a knee, clutching a bleeding ear and cursing a blue streak. When he pulls his hand away to see how bad the blood is, his mask falls away, and the fussing voices around him fall silent.

Because Dabi, from the League of Villains, is kneeling in the only beam of light in the whole tunnel, plain for everyone to see. 

He climbs to his feet, head aching and seams blistering hot from overusing his quirk, and waits for the first scream. 

It never comes.

Instead, a little girl near the front of the crowd steps forward, holding a hand towel out to him. 

“You have an ouchie,” she says seriously. Dabi stares at her, uncomprehending, until she reaches up and takes his too-hot hand, pressing the towel into it.

“Aiko-chan,” a lady calls from the crowd, her voice shaky. “Come back here to mama, okay sweetheart?” 

Dabi’s jaw clenches. 

“Thanks, kid,” he says quietly. The girl beams up at him. 

“You’re welcome, hero-san!”

The urge to sputter hits him, but he represses it as she scampers back over to her mother, chattering loudly about how she met a hero. Dabi’s stomach twists, and he turns a glare on the rest of the civilians, daring them to comment.

None do, but a few of them do nod at him in thanks, and that’s bad enough. 

He ducks through the hole first, walking fast to get away from the oppressive weirdness in the tunnel.

The girl’s hand towel remains clenched in his hand the whole way to the surface.

Later that day, stories break that, amongst the tragedy of the earthquake and the terrifying experiences so many had during it, a group of forty-three civilians had experienced a miracle.

Trapped in a subway tunnel that would fully collapse mere minutes after they escaped it, all passengers report the same strange tale: that the villain Dabi, from the League of Villains, was the one to lead them to safety.

That he worked tirelessly amongst shifting debris, continued tremors, and backlash from his own quirk in order to get through the blockage. 

One girl’s video clip goes viral, and it does more damage than the Hero Commission could ever undo.

“I hope hero-san is okay,” she says into the reporter’s microphone. “Mama says he’s a bad man, but he said thank you when I gave him my princess towel, and only nice people say thank you.”

Dabi doesn’t know anything about this, having crawled back into his apartment, with all his shit scattered across the floor from the quake, barely coherent enough to press an ice pack to his aching head.

He doesn’t know, until he gets a text from Hawks that simply reads: 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘮𝘺 𝘫𝘰𝘣, 𝘩𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘶𝘧𝘧?

Chapter Text

Originally posted July 13th, 2023

Dabi expected Hawks to be pissed after the High End attack. He’d been chipping away at the hero’s facade for weeks already, and he was ready to watch it 𝘣𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘬. 

What he hadn’t expected was for the hero to not show at all.

He looks down at his phone, noting the time he’d sent and the read receipt from Hawks. It’s already twenty minutes past their meeting time, and Hawks is never late. 

Dabi won’t text again - it’s no longer in his nature to reach out more than once - but still… he’s disappointed.

“Thought you really might be worth it, birdie,” he murmurs to the empty warehouse before pocketing his phone. 

He doesn’t notice the feather slipping through the window and burrowing into the gap of his left bracer.

Hawks follows through the night, having to move on foot because Dabi and his fucking noumu made sure he had no feathers left. It’s just fortunate that the Commission trained him with and without feathers to an almost relentless degree.

He knows that at any moment, Dabi could call on his contact - someone named Ujiko, if he heard correctly earlier - and the villain would disappear in a cloud of black goo. But he has a good feeling that Dabi wants some time to think today. 

After all, he’d just faced his father.

How does Hawks know this? 

It’s entirely Endeavor’s fault. 

As they’d packed the big guy into the back of an ambulance, Endeavor had been mumbling deliriously into his oxygen mask. Hawks is pretty sure no one else heard, but with his sensitive feathers, he’d made out the words.

𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘺𝘢’𝘴 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬, 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘺𝘢’𝘴 𝘦𝘺𝘦𝘴, 𝘣𝘶𝘵 𝘪𝘵 𝘤𝘢𝘯’𝘵 𝘣𝘦, 𝘩𝘦’𝘴 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦, 𝘨𝘰𝘯𝘦… 

Hawks hadn’t become #2 just by being fast and pretty. He’d declined medical treatment and had gone immediately to the nearest library. 

Public access. No bugs.

No interference when he entered “Touya” and “Endeavor” in the same search. 

An obituary was the first result, with a cute, somber kid’s picture staring out of the screen and into Hawks’ soul. 

𝘛𝘰𝘥𝘰𝘳𝘰𝘬𝘪 𝘛𝘰𝘶𝘺𝘢, 𝘴𝘰𝘯 𝘢𝘯𝘥 𝘣𝘳𝘰𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳, 𝘱𝘢𝘴𝘴𝘦𝘥 𝘰𝘯…

Hawks skimmed quickly past the fluff until he saw the cause of death. 

Quirk accident. 

𝘚𝘢𝘮𝘦 𝘲𝘶𝘪𝘳𝘬… 

One quick search later confirmed that, yes, Todoroki Touya had an incredibly powerful fire quirk. A fire quirk that apparently killed him.

𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪’𝘴 𝘤𝘰𝘷𝘦𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘸𝘪𝘵𝘩 𝘣𝘶𝘳𝘯 𝘴𝘤𝘢𝘳𝘴… Hawks thought, feeling ill. 𝘈𝘯𝘥 𝘴𝘶𝘣𝘤𝘰𝘯𝘴𝘤𝘪𝘰𝘶𝘴𝘭𝘺 𝘢𝘵 𝘭𝘦𝘢𝘴𝘵, 𝘌𝘯𝘥𝘦𝘢𝘷𝘰𝘳 𝘤𝘰𝘮𝘱𝘢𝘳𝘦𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘵𝘸𝘰…

Just to be sure, Hawks searched other pictures of Touya. There weren’t many, but the few that existed were enough for someone who’d met Dabi multiple times and had an inkling of the truth. 

Blue eyes, perfect teeth, skin tone, face shape… hell, even the thick eyelashes.

𝘚𝘩𝘪𝘵. 

Just then, Hawks’ phone pinged. Somehow, he knew who was demanding his attention. 

Which is how he came to be following Todoroki Touya, not-dead son of Endeavor, strolling through the city until the concrete gave way to a small, private plot of land.

Hawks has to tread carefully then, without shadows and buildings to hide behind, but Dabi doesn’t seem to be paying much attention as he meanders through… 

Oh. Gravestones. 

Hawks swallows, then creeps closer, straining to hear through the feather in Dabi’s sleeve.

“There you are,” he hears the arsonist murmur as he pauses in front of a headstone. “Hello, Touya.” 

Hawks’ heart clenches. He was 𝘳𝘪𝘨𝘩𝘵. 

“I faced dad today,” Dabi continues quietly, going carefully to his knees before the grave. As if he’s in pain. “Almost got him, too.”

Confusion rattles through Hawks’ brain, but he continues to listen, his eyes straining in the dim light. This definitely meant Dabi’s grudge against Endeavor was personal… 

“Next time,” Dabi promises quietly, reaching out to touch the stone with Touya’s name on it.

“He won’t get away with killing you.” 

Hawks’ feathers stiffen in alarm. Before he can react one way or another, though, he hears Dabi sigh. 

“Ujiko-san, I’m ready for pickup.” 

There’s a pause, then a rush of black goo pours out of Dabi’s mouth, consuming him. 

Then he’s gone.

And Hawks is left rooted to the spot, trying to process all that he’s learned. 

Eventually, he comes out from his hiding place and approaches Touya’s grave. There are old flowers placed at the base. 

Proof that someone is still visiting, though not regularly.

Hawks stares at the headstone for a long moment, taking in the date of death ten years prior. Touya would’ve been thirteen. 

“I don’t know what’s going on,” he tells the grave, resolve hardening. “But I promise I will find out what happened to you, Dabi.”

𝘓𝘦𝘵’𝘴 𝘬𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘨𝘳𝘢𝘷𝘦 𝘦𝘮𝘱𝘵𝘺.

Chapter Text

Originally posted July 16th, 2023

Dabi being forced to do community service as a part of his plea deal and getting harrassed by an overgrown pigeon while he's at it. 

"I'm not harassing, I'm helping!" 

That's what Hawks 𝘴𝘢𝘺𝘴 at least. Dabi begs to differ.

"𝘐 was supposed to paint this," he says, gesturing at the school behind him. There are approximately two hundred volunteers crawling all over it now, wielding paintbrushes and waving at Hawks. "It won't count toward my hours if all your sycophants do it for me."

Hawks scratches the back of his head sheepishly. 

"Oops?" 

Dabi's not impressed. 

"You're the one explaining this to the judge. And stay off fucking Twitter next time." 

Hawks gives in, laughing as he does.

"Okay, okay. I'll find you a new volunteer thing, fingers crossed. We can make it a date!" 

Which is how Dabi finds himself being buried under puppies alongside Hawks when they volunteer at a shelter the following week, cursing and laughing in equal measures under the assault.

(Spoiler alert, it does not stay off Twitter, and Dabi has to deal with thousands of people cooing over him petting puppies and booping their noses when he thought no one was looking)

Chapter Text

Originally posted August 18th, 2023

Hawks gets it. He flies around all day and mentally controls a thousand feathers. He knows what it’s like to be tired. 

Still, Dabi sleeps a 𝘭𝘰𝘵. 

It starts when Hawks invites him to spend the night the first time.

Dabi scoffs, but the lull of a full stomach and a sated body gets him in the end. Hawks almost laughs when he realizes Dabi’s “just gonna wait for the rain to let up” turns into light snoring. It’s ridiculously cute.

Apparently, when Dabi finally wakes in the morning, unscathed and well rested, he decides Hawks’ invitation to spend the night is an open invitation. 

Hawks doesn’t mind. Dabi brings snark and cooking skills and sex with him, filling Hawks’ evenings in a way he’s never had before.

And, if he’s honest with himself, Hawks also sleeps better with Dabi’s warm body and soft snores at his side. 

Dabi always leaves after breakfast, citing villain business to get to. Hawks likes to imagine what kind of villainous activity he gets up to with such vicious bed head.

It isn’t until a few weeks into their arrangement that Hawks feels Dabi reentering his apartment during the day. And he knows it’s Dabi because the villain tells his alert feather directly. 

“Oi, no shanking. It’s just me.”

Across the city, Hawks drops down onto a roof, brows furrowing in concentration as he makes his apartment feather form the shape of a question mark at Dabi. 

“Just here for a nap, hero. Go back to work.”

And indeed, the feather reports Dabi walking into the bedroom and collapsing on the bed. Within five minutes, his breathing has evened out to the familiar rhythm of sleep that Hawks has become so accustomed to. 

Huh.

Hawks keeps an ‘eye’ on him throughout the day, but Dabi barely stirs until Hawks starts heading home. Then the villain drags himself out of bed and into the kitchen, yawning and cursing while he turns on the rice cooker.

Landing on the balcony a few minutes later, Hawks confirms the sight with his own eyes. A very sleepy Dabi is pawing at his tired eyes while he gets dinner started. 

𝘏𝘶𝘩. 

“Hey, hot stuff!” Hawks greets with a smirk. “Didn’t realize I wore you out so bad last night!”

“Fuck off, Hawks,” Dabi grumbles, flipping him the bird. Hawks laughs and doesn’t think too much of it, content to pester Dabi into making him karaage. 

Until it happens again a week later. 

“Just me, birdie,” Dabi rasps at Hawks’ alert feather. “Heading straight to bed.”

And he does. 

Every other day, for weeks, until Hawks finally breaks down and asks about it. 

“Are you not sleeping well at night?” he asks over a fresh poke bowl. “Am I like - snoring? Slapping you with feathers?”

Dabi looks up from his own bowl, eyebrows arched. “What are you talking about?” 

Hawks gestures vaguely at him and his nap-rumpled clothes. “Your catnaps. Just worried I’m fucking up your sleep at night.”

Dabi’s chopsticks pause above his bowl, then he sets them down. Hawks worries he might have offended the villain somehow until Dabi sighs. 

“Y’know how you gotta eat more because of your quirk?” he asks, gesturing at Hawks massive bowl. “‘S like that.”

“Oh,” Hawks says, surprised. “I didn’t think about that. Your quirk wears you out?” 

Dabi hums in agreement, not looking at Hawks. “Usually just ignore it.” 

Oh, that’s a loaded statement. If Hawks ignored his quirk’s needs, he’d starve. Which means Dabi just… runs on fumes.

“Well, no need to ignore it here,” he says before Dabi can get defensive. “Nobody but me is gonna bother you.” 

It’s the most laid back way he can think to say, ‘𝘠𝘰𝘶’𝘳𝘦 𝘴𝘢𝘧𝘦 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.’ 

Dabi’s lips quirk. “You are kind of a bother, aren’t you?”

And maybe Hawks is imagining it as he squawks in mock indignation, but he thinks that’s Dabi’s way of saying, ‘𝘐 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸.’

Chapter Text

Originally posted August 22nd, 2023

Okay hear me out. Dabihawks meet cute with their dogs. 

Keigo is a rescue worker who walks his canine companion every morning in Ohori Park. 

Touya is a burn victim with a recently graduated therapy dog.

They run into each other at the park, and their dogs hit it off. So, you know, cue them becoming walking buddies. 

Morning walks become morning coffees, then become lunch plans, and later turn into doggy play dates because why not?

They get along great. “Like a house on fire” as Keigo puts it, at which point Touya has to admit to something embarrassing. 

“Speaking of houses on fire,” he says sheepishly. “You pulled me out of mine. You probably don’t remember, but I recognized you that first morning.”

Then it’s Keigo’s turn to be embarrassed. 

“I recognized you too,” he admits. “Never carried someone with motion sickness before. I’m better at it now, for what it’s worth.” 

Touya almost throws himself into the lake in embarrassment, but Keigo laughs, and honestly it’s okay.

He enjoys laughing with Keigo. Enjoys having a reason to laugh after the accident. And it just gets worse when Keigo starts explaining in detail the dummy he had to princess-carry around with utmost delicacy as part of his retraining.

At their feet, the dogs just continue to play, never questioning that their owners would like each other. 

After all, they know what their people smell like when they’re happy.

Chapter Text

Originally posted September 1st, 2023

“Gentlemen, is this going to be a conflict of interest?” Judge Nedzu asks lightly, looking between Todoroki Touya and Takami Keigo, both facing him from either side of the aisle. 

“No, your honor,” Takami says respectfully.

“Not even a little bit,” Todoroki echoes.

Neither of them look at each other.

“I don’t believe you,” Nedzu says cheerfully. “Pick who stays so we can assign a new counsel to this case.”

Todoroki bristles and Takami goes still. Nedzu gestures for them to approach the bench, which both do without hesitation.

“Feel free to use my chambers to discuss in private,” he tells them, looking between the pair with amusement. “In the meantime, I’ll mark this case down as postponed until a new counsel can be appointed.” He beams. “Please don’t burn my office down!”

Takami and Todoroki glance at each other, clearly disgruntled, before they pass through the gate to his private chambers without complaint.

——

The door shuts behind them, and Keigo heaves a relieved sigh.

“God, I really thought if anyone was going to catch us, it’d be Nedzu. The man is freaky smart.”

Touya laughs, collapsing into the red leather chair in front of the judge’s desk. “I swear he could smell the fear. Felt years shaved off my life.” He casts Keigo a smile. “Worth it though.”

Keigo beams back, stepping forward to catch Touya’s hand so he can intertwine their fingers. Neither of them are wearing their rings, but Keigo runs his thumb over Touya’s bare finger like it’s still there. 

“It is kinda funny they still think we hate each other to the point of impartiality.”

Touya drops a kiss onto the back of Keigo's hand, lips warm and lingering. “Better than all the shit we’d get for liking each other despite being on opposite sides.”

Arching an eyebrow, Keigo says, “Only liking ?”

Touya looks up at him from under his eyelashes. “You know what I mean, counselor. Don’t try to twist my words.”

Keigo hums, circling the chair until he’s standing in front of Touya, still holding his hand. “Isn’t it the defense’s job to twist things? I’m just calling it as I see it.” He runs his eyes up and down Touya’s all-black suit, letting his hunger show. “And I like what I see.”

“Only like?” Touya echoes, smirking as he draws Keigo down into his lap.

“Mmm, I like it a lot,” Keigo agrees, hooking one arm over Touya’s shoulder while the other tugs at his tie. “Seems a bit uptight, though.”

“They are supposed to think we’re fighting in here,” Touya breathes against Keigo’s lips. “I can think of a few ways to let them draw their own conclusions.”

Keigo grins, slipping his hand to cup the back of Touya’s neck.

“I’m all ears, counselor.”

Chapter Text

When Hawks gets hit by a young girl’s quirk, he doesn’t realize the implications at first.

“I’m so sorry,” her mother explains. “Whatever emotion you were feeling when you were hit will be amplified for the next day.”

“That’s fine, Tanaka-san,” Hawks says kindly. “I was just telling your daughter how brave she was during the power outage. Shouldn’t be a problem.”

His smile is genuine, encouraging, maybe even a little goofy. Tanaka bites her lip and nods.

A sweet Hawks couldn’t cause much harm, right?

Wrong.

“I never realized how sassy you were until you decided to be human cotton candy,” Miruko comments later that day as Hawks waves goodbye at a group of thieves being escorted away by the police. All of the criminals look confused as fuck. Probably because Hawks had just encouraged them all to be better and get out of jail soon. 

He’d even complimented how smart they were with the plan they’d cooked up.

“Those guys could probably turn it around if they try,” Hawks returns easily. “A kind word can’t hurt, you know?”

“Sure,” Miruko says, bemused. “You wanna grab something to eat? Your shift should be over now.”

“It is!” Hawks agrees happily. “Already have dinner plans, though. Can we catch up next time?”

Miruko shrugs. “Yeah, no problem. Catch you later, Hawks.”

Hawks beams at her. “Thanks for understanding. And for what it’s worth, I think you’re one of the only heroes who could catch me.”

Miruko’s trying to decide if she should take his genuine compliment at face value or kick his ass on principal, when Hawks tips a wing to her in salute, and flies away.

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 15th, 2023

Dabihawks AU where Dabi was going to leave the death eaters for Hawks, even knowing that leaving would get him killed.

They planned to meet under the clock tower to run away together, but when Hawks finally shows up, Dabi is devastated to see Hawks has taken the dark mark.

“You didn’t think I’d just let you get killed, did you?” Hawks asks, wincing at the fresh pain of his mark. Dabi traces the skull and snake with shaky fingers, unable to comprehend what Hawks has done.

“If we leave… they’ll hunt us both.”

Hawks smiles at him.

“It’s too late to worry about that, Dabi. We’re in this together.”

“But All For One-”

“We can take him,” Hawks says, lacing their fingers together with a determined expression. “We can do anything together, remember?”

Dabi grips Hawks’ hand, half exasperated, half daring to hope.

“Stupid Gryffindor,” he chides. Hawks beams back at him.

“Good thing I’ve got a clever Slytherin to balance me out, right?”

“If we die, my ghost is haunting your ghost.”

Hawks laughs. “Looking forward to it, hot stuff. In the meantime, are you ready to take down a dark wizard?”

Dabi sighs, cupping Hawks’ cheek so he can press their foreheads together.

“Yeah,” he whispers. “Let’s go kill an immortal.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 16th, 2023

Rival TouKei AU where All Might ends up sponsoring young Keigo while Touya gets pulled into his dad’s agency as Keigo’s rival (bc Endeavor is super unoriginal).

Blah blah blah the teens get pitted against each other by the media, but no one knows they’re dating on the sly.

Touya, deadpan to the media: "Oh, Keigo caught six criminals last night?"

Touya later, texting Keigo: you were catching criminals ON OUR DATE??? 

Keigo: I have feathers I can control with my brain what do you want from meeeeee!!

Touya: I’m breaking up with u

Chapter Text

Originally posted October 26th, 2023

Dabi’s lounging at Hawks’ apartment in style. Wearing his comfiest sweats, with bougie socks on, and his favorite mint tea steaming at his elbow, flipping through the channels on Hawks’ giant TV.

He’s not looking for trouble, he’s just looking for the food channel.

He’s not looking for Hawks.

And yet there he is, with a reality show host gesturing at him as Hawks waves cheekily at the cameras, wings flexing at his back and visor pushed back into his windswept hair. He looks like he just came off of patrol.

“So that’s why he hasn’t answered my texts,” Dabi grumbles.

He turns up the volume, rubbing his fuzzy-socked feet together as he settles in to watch the hero perform for his fans.

“Thanks for joining us today, Hawks!” The host is saying, gesturing Hawks to a chair. “Your agency says you just came from a villain capture, right?”

Hawks takes the seat gratefully. “Yeah, just a small-time crew, so nothing to worry about. My sidekicks are still cleaning up, so avoid Block 2H if you can!”

He shoots a pair of finger guns at the camera, and Dabi rolls his eyes.

“Glad to hear it was an easy job!” The host laughs. “We were worried it was the League of Villains when we first heard.”

Dabi snorts. “We’re not even located in Fukuoka.”

“Ah, we don’t believe the League is near Fukuoka,” Hawks says, easily, echoing Dabi’s comment.

“Not that you’d be worried regardless, right Hawks?” The host says, sucking up. “The number two hero can keep us safe!”

Dabi watches Hawks’ smile become fixed, and he leans in, intent on the hero’s answer.

“I don’t want to give a false sense of security to people,” Hawks says, voice more serious. “Or open Fukuoka up to attacks if I say the League members would be easy opponents. Because they wouldn’t be.”

“Well,” the host simpers. “I understand the modesty.”

“It’s not modesty,” Hawks says, jerking his thumb toward his wings. “These are flammable. And I’m not immune to being stabbed or disintegrated. Any one of the League members could spell trouble, so they’re not to be taken lightly.”

Dabi grins at the admission, feeling - of all things - a little flattered by the hero’s assessment of their threat level.

Deep down, he knows it’s probably a ploy to keep his fans from inviting retribution with stupid statements, but still. It’s nice not to be underestimated.

"… what do you think makes a villain?” he hears the host ask, clearly having switched tactics. “Do you think it’s because society has rejected them? I know if I saw Dabi coming my way, I’d take off running the opposite direction!”

Dabi stills, unaccountably stung by the remark.

It’s not as if Dabi hasn’t heard it before. The shitty remarks. The screams from young mothers as they drag their kids away from him. He’s used to it.

Or at least… he was, before Hawks.

Hawks who praises his pretty piercings. Hawks who worships his body at night and cuddles it after. Hawks who can’t keep his hands or eyes off Dabi whenever they’re close.

Dabi forgot, momentarily, that Hawks was the exception, not the rule.

Hawks goes rigid at the remark too, his wings sharpening. Dabi watches numbly as he stares the host down until they squirm in their seat.

“I don’t care for commentary on people’s appearances,” Hawks says, voice quiet. “Dabi’s covered in burn scars. Do you think he wanted those?”

Dabi swallows roughly, his heart pounding painfully in his chest as Hawks continues.

“Do you think staples in your skin are comfortable? Would you enjoy being covered in open wounds? No? I didn’t think so.”

The host dithers over an answer, but Hawks is already standing.

“Sorry, I have to be getting back to work now! Let’s try not to judge people on their appearances alone, okay?” 

He pastes on a cheerful smile before he exits the stage, leaving the host in open-mouthed shock behind him before the program suddenly cuts to commercial.

Which gives Dabi plenty of time to process what he just saw. Hawks defending him, on live TV, for no other reason than some idiot pointed out Dabi was ugly to look at.

“What the fuck, birdbrain,” Dabi whispers to the still air. “You always talk about your cover, but that was…”

That was stupid. And more kind than anyone’s been about Dabi’s fucked up body in a long time.

Dabi’s still staring at the asinine ads when his phone buzzes.

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗲: hey im off work early today! wanna do a late lunch?

Dabi stares at the message, a lump in his throat.

They have ingredients in the fridge, courtesy of Dabi’s nagging, and honestly… he’s feeling generous.

𝗗𝗮𝗯𝗶: sure. chicken okay?

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗲: god yes - your chicken is the best 🤤 

Dabi snorts, but his smile is fond as he types back.

𝗗𝗮𝗯𝗶: yeah yeah see u soon

He moves to set his phone aside - to get up and start lunch - when it buzzes again.

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗲: for no particular reason, do you prefer roses or daffodils?

That makes Dabi laugh, in the most pathetic, lovesick way he’s ever allowed himself to be.

𝗗𝗮𝗯𝗶: rindous actually

𝗕𝗶𝗿𝗱𝗶𝗲: perfect! see u soon! (^з^)-☆

Dabi’s shoulders curl in a bit as he cradles his phone. Suddenly, his socks aren’t the only thing that are warm and fuzzy.

“𝘚𝘦𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶 𝘴𝘰𝘰𝘯, 𝘱𝘳𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘺 𝘣𝘪𝘳𝘥.”

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 4th, 2023

Dabi is not known for his athleticism. Between the scarring and the shitty lungs, he’s a fast walker at best if he’s not trying to fuck himself up further.

Which is why everyone is surprised when he tackles Hawks off a roof.

Video footage later will show that, in the midst of the hero/villain tussle, a bullet blows a crater into the concrete right where Hawks had been standing. And at that point, Japan is forced to come to grips with the fact that a villain just saved their number two hero.

Hawks has to reconcile with the fact too, especially because, in the mid-air tussle, with one of his wings pinned by Dabi’s death grip and the ground racing up to meet them, Hawks had almost dropped Dabi.

𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵.

“You could have 𝘥𝘪𝘦𝘥!” he growls, pointing a shaking finger at Dabi, who’s laid out in his bed with an ice pack on his whiplashed neck. “And my cover is 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 blown. No coming back from a villain rescue.”

Dabi doesn’t say anything to the tirade - just stares at Hawks, trembling slightly, like he’s in shock. He probably is, given the forty-story drop they’d both just experienced.

That’s when Hawks realizes he’s also shivering. And that he’s never been more terrified in his life.

“I’m supposed to do the saving, hot stuff,” he says quietly, taking unsteady steps to the side of the bed until he’s able to sit by Dabi’s hip. Without another word, he takes the villain’s hand in his.

The strength of Dabi’s grip tells him all he needs to know.

Dabi had seen the sniper, and he’d forced himself to sprint at Hawks, tearing staples and the hero/villain status quo, just to save Hawks’ life. 

And when Hawks had finally pulled them out of the free fall, mere feet from the ground, Dabi’s heart had pounded against Hawks’ own.

𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥, Hawks realizes, stroking his thumb over Dabi’s knuckles. 𝘏𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘢𝘧𝘳𝘢𝘪𝘥 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝙢𝙚.

“It’s okay, Dabi,” he whispers, clutching him just as tightly as he leans down to kiss his windswept hair. “We’re okay.”

Dabi leans into the kiss and doesn’t reply; he doesn’t have to.

After all, actions speak louder than words.

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 13th, 2023

It’s not funny. It’s actually a bit gruesome if Hawks thinks about it too long. But still… of all the things his superior eyes have been called upon to find…

Not a bomb, not a speck of a person lost at sea. No.

A nose stud.

“And you think you dropped it somewhere here?” Hawks asks, crouching by Dabi’s sink, eyeing the speckled tiles. There are still faint streaks of blood on the floor from when Dabi’s nose had been actively bleeding everywhere.

“Yeah,” Dabi’s stuffy voice comes from the bedroom. Hawks glances back at him and sees him holding an ice pack to gingerly to his nose. He looks annoyed. “Was trying to put it back in but…”

But Dabi’s nose was swollen to twice its normal size after his recent fight with Geten, and the hole had been tiny. He’d missed the mark. 

Which is how Hawks ended up stud-hunting in the bathroom.

Apparently, Dabi had taken his studs out to wash the blood off of them, and one had rolled off the counter. Hawks had heard Dabi cursing from the hallway and had come to inspect.

The sight of Dabi with a blood-streaked bare chest and a rag pressed to his nose hadn’t been what Hawks expected, but he’d been even more startled when the villain pulled the rag away to tell him to fuck off, and he’d seen the missing studs.

Something about the sight of Dabi’s naked, reddened nose got to Hawks a bit. Like he was seeing him without armor, which was ridiculous.

It’s just that… the villain’s jewelry was so intrinsic to his appearance, along with his staples. Hawks could strip Dabi bare, and he’d still be 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪 because of the glittering metal decorating his body.

The thought has him glancing in the mirror again, watching as Dabi prods his nose gently. The villain winces, and he looks so adorably annoyed that Hawks has to repress a smile.

Dabi without jewelry came off so much more boyish; Hawks could almost imagine him as a civilian.

Some cute university student majoring in theater, maybe.

𝘏𝘦’𝘴 𝘥𝘦𝘧𝘪𝘯𝘪𝘵𝘦𝘭𝘺 𝘥𝘳𝘢𝘮𝘢𝘵𝘪𝘤 𝘦𝘯𝘰𝘶𝘨𝘩 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘪𝘵, Hawks thinks, snickering.

“Did you find it yet?” Dabi calls out, sounding pissy. Hawks casts his gaze back down to the tiles, eyes pinning.

Then he spots it, half covered by the warped baseboard.

“Yep!” he calls back, using the tip of his talon to roll the little stud out from under the board. “It’ll need to be sanitized, though!”

“No shit, Sherlock,” Dabi grumbles, even as Hawks plucks the stud up and prepares a small alcohol bath for it in the lid of the disinfectant.

Meanwhile, he glances at Dabi in the mirror, noticing that the villain is rubbing at his temple, clearly still hurting after his fight.

It’s why he exits the bathroom with an Advil and a disposable cup of water, which he offers to Dabi without comment.

Dabi grunts, but knocks the medicine back anyway. Then he flops back on the bed, wincing as he does.

“Maybe don’t fling yourself around with a broken nose,” Hawks says mildly, watching Dabi unabashedly as he takes a seat next to the villain.

“Not broken,” Dabi says in annoyance. “Busted, though. Gonna ash that bastard one day.”

“Mmm,” Hawks hums, uninterested in initiating another Geten rant. Instead, he asks a question that’s been on his mind since Dabi opened the door. “When did you get your nose pierced?”

Dabi rolls his head to squint at Hawks, looking suspicious. Hawks shrugs, pointing at his lobe.

“Got these done when I was sixteen, against the Commission’s will. I’m just curious, hot stuff.”

Dabi eyes him a moment longer, then does a one-shoulder shrug.

“Sixteen too. Made me look older.”

Hawks files away the implications of that for later and offers Dabi a smirk.

“I bet - you’ve got a cute nose,” he teases, resisting the urge to tap Dabi’s. The villain scowls.

“Noses aren’t cute,” he says in irritation. Hawks arches an eyebrow.

“Maybe not to you. Yours is cute to me.” He grins. “Though not as cute as your forehead, or your lips, or-“

“Fuck off, birdbrain,” Dabi interrupts, shoving Hawks from his position lying on the bed. It’s ineffective, but Hawks still laughs.

“I mean it,” he says, turning to brace on one hand so he can smile down at the villain. “Your face looks different without the piercings.”

“I look like I’ve got a tomato in the middle of my face,” Dabi deadpans.

“It’s a very cute tomato,” Hawks insists. “Though I do miss your shinies. They suit you.”

Dabi flushes slightly, which is just too fucking cute, and Hawks can feel his wings flapping lightly at his back.

“Shut up,” Dabi demands, averting his gaze. “Stop looking at me.” 

Hawks blinks slowly.

“Mmm, nah. See, I’ve got these great eyes, and I wanna put them to good use.”

“Ugh, that was so fucking corny,” Dabi groans, closing his own eyes. Hawks takes the opportunity to lean close.

The kiss to the tip of Dabi’s nose is feather light in deference to his injury, but Dabi’s eyes still snap open. Hawks meets his gaze.

“Couldn’t help myself,” he whispers. “Wanted to kiss it better.”

Dabi’s cheeks burn red, and he opens his mouth. Before he can tell Hawks to fuck off again, Hawks captures his lips and proceeds to kiss Dabi breathless.

It’s easier than normal, with Dabi’s nose so stuffy. Still, it’s very rewarding to feel Dabi panting as he dives back in.

Any remaining complaints from the villain die out as Dabi gets his hand into Hawks’ hair, dragging him deeper into the kiss. Almost like he’s taking the chance to keep Hawks from complimenting him further.

Hawks grins at the thought.

𝘔𝘢𝘺𝘣𝘦 𝘐 𝘴𝘩𝘰𝘶𝘭𝘥 𝘵𝘩𝘢𝘯𝘬 𝘎𝘦𝘵𝘦𝘯 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘭𝘦𝘵𝘵𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘦 𝘨𝘦𝘵 𝘢 𝘨𝘭𝘪𝘮𝘱𝘴𝘦 𝘰𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘋𝘢𝘣𝘪, he thinks, shuddering as Dabi’s other hand finds his feathers. 

𝘉𝘶𝘵 𝘰𝘯𝘭𝘺 𝙖𝙛𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝘐 𝘬𝘪𝘤𝘬 𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘢𝘴𝘴 𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘰𝘶𝘤𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘮𝘺 𝘮𝘢𝘯.

Chapter Text

Originally posted November 16th, 2023

Keigo lives in the south for a reason. Fukuoka rarely sees snow, and even then, it’s usually gone in a week at most.

So, being called in for an avalanche search and rescue? Way outside his norm. 

But he’s already in Hokkaido for a hero conference, and nobody else has vibration-sensing feathers attached to their backs, so here he is: shivering his ass off as his only source of warmth spreads out in a grid across the fresh powder, sensing for movement.

Wings barren of feathers, Keigo huddles in the cold, tugging his jacket closer to his lean frame. He hadn’t bothered with winter gear since he was going to be in a hotel conference room all day. 

He’s regretting that now.

“Who plucked you?” a sarcastic voice asks behind him. Keigo jumps, not having sensed the person’s approach. When he turns, though, his jaw drops.

“Dabi, what are you 𝘥𝘰𝘪𝘯𝘨 here?!” he hisses, looking around to make sure the other heroes haven’t seen him. Dabi grins lazily.

“Saw you on the news, freezing your featherless ass off to save a bunch of snowed-in idiots. Figured I’d pop by.” He raises a hand, letting flames flicker over his fingertips. “Just tell me where to aim, birdbrain.”

It takes Keigo a full ten seconds to process that Dabi is offering to 𝘩𝘦𝘭𝘱 doing something 𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘰𝘪𝘤. When he does, his eyes narrow.

𝘛𝘩𝘪𝘴 𝘯𝘦𝘦𝘥𝘺-!

“Is this because I rescheduled our meeting tonight?”

“Maybe,” Dabi says carelessly. “Time’s ticking, birdie.”

And much as Keigo hates it, Dabi’s right. In situations like this, every second matters. He doesn’t have time to sit here arguing with Dabi.

“Okay, follow me. And for fuck’s sake, don’t be seen.”

“Roger that, hero,” Dabi drawls, picking up the pace until he’s at Keigo’s side.

That’s when Keigo feels Dabi’s fingers touch his own frozen ones, and the warmth alone has him shuddering with relief.

He wants to reach out and hold Dabi’s hand more firmly. To feel that heat radiating up his arm into his shivering body.

But at that moment, one of his feathers pings, signaling movement beneath the snow. Keigo’s eyes snap in the direction of the feather, and he takes Dabi’s hand for another reason entirely.

“C’mon, Dabs - time to get to work.”

(They end up rescuing fourteen people from the snow, and mysteriously, none of them mentions the melted snow in their interviews afterward.

Even more mysteriously, Hawks accepts no rewards other than a giant carafe of hot chocolate and a night off.

No one questions him - after all, he deserves a break after a full day of heroics.

Some of them 𝘥𝘰 question the hickeys he shows up with the next day, but not to his face 🤭)

Chapter Text

Originally posted January 15th, 2024

Todoroki Touya had a guardian angel.

He didn’t know what to call the winged man the first time he saw him in the garden behind his house. Between the tears clouding his eyes and the darkness outside, he’d almost missed the man crouching like a gargoyle on top of the garden wall. 

𝘈𝘭𝘮𝘰𝘴𝘵. His father had taught him to be observant, though, so the barest flutter of red feathers in the evening breeze immediately had Touya alert.

“Who are you?” he called at the stranger on the wall, orange flames bursting out from his fist. He tried to hide how much it stung, but his face twisted with pain, and the winged thing leapt down from the fence, landing with his hands up in a ‘woah there’ gesture.

“Hey, kid, don’t hurt yourself. I’m a hero, okay?”

Teeth gritted, Touya held the flames steady. “Oh yeah? What rank are you? I don’t remember a wing quirk in the top 100.”

The guy snorted. “I’m not ranked 𝘯𝘰𝘸, but one day I’ll be the number two.”

Touya’s eyebrows furrowed. “What kind of hero 𝘸𝘢𝘯𝘵𝘴 to be second place?”

A choked noise this time. “Isn’t your dad the number two hero?”

Touya’s flames flared up with his annoyance. “He’s going to be number one! And if he can’t, I will!”

There was some shuffling, and then the man stepped into the light of Touya’s fire. He didn’t look amused anymore.

“That’s a big goal for such a little guy,” the man said quietly, assessing Touya with his hands shoved into his pockets. “You sure you don’t wanna be second place? It’s a lot less pressure.”

Touya stomped his foot. “I’m gonna be number one if it kills me!”

The man was silent for a long moment before he went down to a knee in front of Touya. His yellow eyes looked super serious.

“But I don’t want you to die, kid. No one does.”

“Well, it’s my dream, not yours!” Touya pointed out, blinking sweat from his eyes. His hand was really beginning to hurt. “You’re just like Mom and Yumi. You don’t get it.”

“Oh yeah?” the man said, moving to take a seat. He pulled a phone from his jacket and turned on the flashlight, pointing it at the ground. “Why don’t you turn off your flames and tell me about it?”

“I - what?” Touya asked, his flames going out from sheer surprise. “Tell you what?”

“About your dream,” the man said quietly. “You wanna become number one - do you have a hero name picked out?”

Touya’s heart clenched painfully. He did have some names picked out. He’d tried to tell his dad, but… he was busy. He’d been busy all month.

“You promise you won’t steal my name?” he asked the man, trying not to get too excited. No one 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 listened to him, after all.

“I pinky promise,” the man said, holding his hand up, pinky extended. Touya made a face because adults 𝘯𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘳 did pinky promises. It was weird.

Still… he didn’t know any better way to confirm an oath.

Reluctantly, he linked pinkies, squeezing the calloused finger before letting go.

“Okay,” he said, plopping down in front of the man, determined to impress. “I’m gonna be Supernova. Or Fire Star. I haven’t decided yet. But they’re both mine until I figure it out.”

The man smiled. “Those are pretty cool. Do you know where you want your agency?”

Touya snorted. “With my dad, of course.”

“Really?” the man mused, cupping his chin. “You wanna be stuck in Musutafu with your old man? What about Fukuoka or Hokkaido?”

Touya did like the snow, and Hokkaido was supposed to be 𝘳𝘦𝘢𝘭𝘭𝘺 snowy. But that wasn’t the point!

“I’m gonna work with my dad,” he declared, puffing up his chest. “We’ll fight bad guys and hang out every day!”

For some reason, that made the man blink really hard, like he had something in his eye. His next question came out a little choked.

“Okay, so you’re gonna kick butt with your dad as Fire Star/Supernova. That’s pretty neat, you know?” He tapped his chin. “Say, do you think I could train to be your sidekick? I think that would be more fun than being number two.”

Touya’s jaw dropped.

“You wanna work for 𝘮𝘦?”

“I mean, yeah,” the guy rubbed the back of his head. “You seem pretty cool, and I really don’t wanna fight for the top spots with you.” He flexed out a soft-looking red wing. “I’m kinda flammable, see?”

“Oh,” Touya said. “I guess that makes sense.”

“I’m old, I have to make sense sometimes,” the man joked. “So, would you wanna train together? Doesn’t have to be anything crazy. But I make a good target, and I’ve worked with a lot of fire quirks.”

Touya glanced back toward the house, thinking hard. It couldn’t hurt to train with another hero, could it? Especially while his dad was busy.

“I - yeah. Yeah, you can train with me,” Touya said, trying to sound assertive. “But you can’t tell Fuyumi, or she’ll blab to mom.”

That got him another chuckle. “Deal. But no training tonight, and if you wanna train tomorrow, you should put some burn cream on your hand, okay?”

Touya glanced at his hand where he’d held the flames for so long. Sure enough, the skin was pink with fresh burns.

“Fine,” he grumbled. “But training can’t be here. Mom gets mad.”

“Sekoto Peak, then?” the man suggested, making Touya snap to look at him. The man shrugged. “I’ve heard there’s a good stream in case you catch me on fire.”

Touya huffed, looking away. “I won’t hurt you.”

“Of course not, I’ll be too fast,” the man said with a stupid wink. “Now, why don’t you tell me about your hero costume?”

Touya perked up again, and the man smiled when he began to describe the cape and bracers he wanted. And it was… nice. To have someone listen, and nod, and give suggestions for cool features. The man even pointed out that black would look good with his white hair.

Over an hour passed that way, and Touya began yawning. Which is when the man insisted he go off to bed, saying they would meet tomorrow anyway.

“Oh, and Touya?” the man said as Touya opened the sliding door. He looked sheepish. “Maybe don’t ever agree to meet with strangers in a secluded area. That’s super bad.”

“But you’re a hero?” Touya said, confused.

The man looked past Touya, toward the house, and his expression darkened. “Not all heroes are good, kid.”

Then he brightened again, as if nothing had happened, and gave a jaunty wave. “But I’m not half bad! So I’ll see ya tomorrow!”

Touya returned the wave with only a touch of confusion. Then he went inside and began preparing for bed, knowing that there was a good chance he might not sleep from excitement.

Because someone finally told him he could be a hero, and Touya believed him.

Chapter Text

Originally posted February 22nd, 2024

“Go 𝘢𝘸𝘢𝘺, Hawks,” Dabi snaps, trying to slam the door in the hero’s face. Hawks’ hand catches the door, though, and he holds it with a strength that doesn’t show on his pouty face.

“But Dabi, I haven’t seen you in like a 𝘸𝘦𝘦𝘬,” he whines, lip sticking out childishly.

A snicker sounds from the other end of the hallway, and Dabi’s blood pressure skyrockets when he sees a couple of PLF members grinning knowingly as they exit their own suites. God, Dabi hates them.

Not as much as Hawks, though. The fucking menace.

“Why do you need me?” he hissed, annoyed and embarrassed because good god, he’s gonna have to stomp down more rumors after this. “Isn’t Twice your 𝘣𝘦𝘴𝘵𝘪𝘦 now?”

Hawks tries his luck pushing the door further open. Dabi braces his boot against it. The pout redoubles.

“Twice is a great guy and a helluva laugh to hang with, but I miss our trash-talking sessions,” Hawks confesses, batting long lashes at Dabi as if the puppy dog look will work on him. 

It does. A little. And Dabi feels steam coming off his scalp at the indignity of it all.

“I’m not your friend, Hawks,” Dabi points out. “Go shit talk with someone else.”

“Who? Geten?” Hawks snorts, wings flaring at his back. Dabi tries to hide his affront at the idea. “He doesn’t have your ability to cut Re-Destro down to size.”

Reluctantly, Dabi considers the dangling carrot Hawks is waving at him, because god does he love mocking the shit out of Re-Destro until his ego is thoroughly punctured. 

But giving in to his pettiness means giving in to 𝘏𝘢𝘸𝘬𝘴, who he’s been avoiding since the rumors began.

“What is that windbag up to now?” He asks grudgingly. Hawks lights up like a Christmas tree.

“He’s got this whole spiel going about where Stain went wrong, and is being 𝘴𝘶𝘱𝘦𝘳 pretentious about it.”

Well. Damn. Never let it be said Hawks didn’t know his audience.

“Fine,” Dabi agrees, pulling the door open, trying to avoid Hawks’ delighted expression. “Can’t let some nepo fucker talk shit about my hero.”

“Aww, I thought 𝘐 was your hero!”

“Do not let people hear you say that.”

Hawks laughs happily, falling into step beside Dabi as he pushes into the hallway. Dabi spies another pair of PLF fuckers watching, interest painted into their expressions, and he grimaces because hell - he just made Hawks 𝘭𝘢𝘶𝘨𝘩.

“Just… shut up,” Dabi grumbles, cheeks burning. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Just enjoying time with my favorite arsonist!” Hawks says 𝘴𝘰 𝘥𝘢𝘮𝘯 𝘭𝘰𝘶𝘥𝘭𝘺.

“What did I 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 say?” Dabi growls, despairing internally.

“Something about how you love spending time with me, I’m sure. Now, let’s go!”

Grumpy, embarrassed, and annoyed, Dabi trails behind the happy hero, knowing this is just gonna add gasoline to the fiery rumor that Hawks actually 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦𝘴 him.

𝘈𝘴 𝘪𝘧, he thinks, staring at Hawks’ wings bouncing jauntily with each step. He refuses to acknowledge how disappointed the thought makes him. But…

𝘐’𝘥 𝘬𝘯𝘰𝘸 𝘪𝘧 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦 𝘸𝘢𝘴 𝘴𝘰𝘮𝘦𝘵𝘩𝘪𝘯𝘨 𝘵𝘩𝘦𝘳𝘦.

(In fact, everyone knows 𝘦𝘹𝘤𝘦𝘱𝘵 Dabi, who is dense as fuck. A reality that Hawks laments to anyone who will listen. Poor thing 😂)

((It takes a direct love confession that the entire PLF helps facilitate before Dabi considers the fact that Hawks might actually like him.))

Chapter Text

Originally posted February 28th, 2024

Dabi is not a ‘kiss and tell’ kinda guy. Especially not when the ‘kissing’ involves a hero.

But, unfortunately, Dabi 𝘪𝘴 a petty soul who likes to be right.

Which means that when Toga started pestering Giran for info on Dabi’s new recruit, and Giran’s description included “the kinda guy with a girl in every city”, Dabi had scoffed loudly enough for everyone to hear.

So now he’s got everyone’s eyes on him, and Giran’s got a ‘prove me wrong’ expression on his smarmy face, and honestly - fuck it.

“He’s bi, for one,” Dabi grits out. “And for two, I can say with confidence his dating game is shit.”

It’d have to be after their disastrous first kiss. Hawks’ face had been a violent shade of red, and he’d almost passed out when their lips met. It was cute as fuck, but didn’t speak of much experience.

Not that Dabi can 𝘦𝘹𝘱𝘭𝘢𝘪𝘯 that.

“C’mon now, sparky, you can’t stop there,” Giran goads, expression full of mirth. “Or are you gonna make this broker figure out on his own how you know the guy’s preferences? Pretty sure you won’t love the rumors that’ll stir up.”

“It’s none of your business,” Dabi scowls, his cheeks heating against his will. 

“But Dabiiiii~” Toga whines while Spinner arches a brow at him, equally askance. A glance at the others shows that Compress, Shigaraki, and Twice are all eavesdropping too.

Dabi shoves his hands in his pockets, pretending nonchalance.

“His dating game is shit because I’ve seen him try and get shot down multiple times.”

𝘉𝘺 𝘮𝘦.

“Now ain’t that somethin’,” Giran muses. “And you were just… out on the town with him to see all that?”

Belatedly, Dabi realizes his mistake, but before he can make up an excuse, Giran rises to his feet.

“No need to answer, kiddo. I think I got it figured.” Giran winks conspiratorially at him, and Dabi grimaces as the man takes his leave.

Because in his wake, he’s left a curious League, and they’re all looking at Dabi like cats at a downed sparrow.

𝘍𝘶𝘤𝘬.

(Later, Dabi has to tell Hawks that the League knows about their ‘situationship’, as Toga called it.

Hawks blinks in confusion.

“Is that why the whole underground is calling me a daBIsexual?”

And that’s when Dabi quietly adds Giran to his hit list, right beneath Endeavor.)