Literally Has Js Been A Few Hours Since I Last Posted, But It's 1:30 AM And It's December 28... SO THAT

@ratsrunningaround

its midnight and i'm bored outta my mind-

GUYS PLS. I NEED TO READ SOMETHING CUTE WHILE STUDYING FOR FINALS, IF ANYONE KNOWS, WHATS THE FIC WHERE ITS HAWKS X READER AND READER ACCIDENTALLY TAKES HIS COFFEE AND ITS RLLY CUTE???

hmmm I've been having post raid rr!dbhwks on the mind lately

I made it

Mood: gay

oh lawd he comin!!!!!!

what if i made a slowburn hawks x reader fic..... 😞✊ but.. BUT I SHANT!! I STILL HAVE TO WRITE FOR [ COME ON ANGEL, COME ON DARLING ] RHEYAGGDHSNSNANKFJSAMDMSMSKDJJDJNSNDNFNDNSN !!

Mutually Assured Destruction

1k hurt/no comfort desert duo angst. Mild mentions of death, almost like domestic abuse but like, flavored funny. Idk. I don't believe in betas so if this is bad I'm sorry. Anyway!! Enjoy!!

The first death was an accident, the second was revenge. 

Grian was more than happy to share his monopoly with his soulmate, At odds constantly or not, they were still soulmates, and business partners at that. So he shared the sand, and he was even excited when they crafted tnt together. It was a new era, a dangerous era. The other soulbonds better watch out. There was something oddly nice about creating weapons of mass destruction as the strings connecting you pull back and forth. It was almost peaceful. Maybe he could share his life with Scar after all. 

This thought was ripped away from him when he stepped on the block. There was no indication he’d done something wrong, no click, no pressure plate compressing, not even the sound of a rail cart. Just a hiss and darkness. 

Well. Not quite, before the darkness came the pain, came the ground being ripped from underneath him and the searing ever present sensation of being ripped limb from limb. His wings had opened, attempting to pull him from the blast; they had not opened fast enough. Every feather on his wings had singed and burned. He felt every single fiber, sending shocks through him. He felt only the shock and surprise coming from Scar’s end. He did not have time to process anything other than the burning before the dark screen came. 

He stared at the message in awe, dropped into a random spot in the world. It was nearly nighttime. 

Grian Blew up

GoodTimeWithScar died

The chat was filled with messages, asking about traps and what happened. How did Grian explain that it had been in his own base? There was only one other pair of red names on the server, and they wouldn’t do this to him. Surely not. Big B was his secret soulmate. He wouldn’t hurt him. 

Besides, he was the only one with enough tnt to do something like that. Well him and . . .Scar. How could Scar be so stupid? Setting a trap where he knew Grian would walk. He would almost think it was intentional. He stewed on that for a while, as he made his way back to the base. Trying not to die to a variety of mobs. He sent and received a variety of minor hits. Nothing too serious, but enough to let each other know how stupid they had been. 

They met at the base, down in the crater, trying to look for anything that hadn’t exploded. Grian was hoping to recover some of his armor, his weapons. Just something. He was out of luck, at least their valuables (the sand and tnt) were safely stored away. Scar looked incredibly embarrassed, especially considering the mess the trap had made. He had apparently swung by where he had died to retrieve his armor and sword. 

“Sorry Gri!”

“Why did you trap our base!” Grian couldn’t help the anger and indignation that colored his voice.

“It was meant to just be a test! I wanted to see if it would work. How was I supposed to know you’d come back to the base before I could get a sheep to set it off?” The edge of annoyance in his voice only made Grian angerier. 

“You could’ve warned me Scar!! We’re yellow now because you.”

“Me? You stepped on the trap. You blew up.” 

There wasn’t anything sheepish or shy about Scar now, he was angry, reaching for a weapon. But that little part of his mind that could still care pulled him away from it. Grian didn’t have a weapon, didn’t have armor. He ripped his off with a speed that must’ve been practiced, he shoved the current item in his hand into his inventory. This would be an even fight, if only for the sake of proving his point. 

“You gonna hit me Scar? Like a child? Go ahead. It’s your life too.”  There’s a look in Grian’s eyes, a sort of burning, that tells Scar this won’t be a one off thing. This is war. 

So he swung. Because war was something. Was some sort of turn of events, was a way of dealing, a way of breaking the tension. The sound Grian made was almost satisfying, a huff of air and a small gasp of pain. Scar squared up, and it was oddly reminiscent of a very different battle. But they were allies then. They meant something to each other, there wasn’t this well of unspeakable anger. There wasn’t this uncrossable void. He feels the pain through their line, a single heart of damage, still enough to sting. 

Grian pulls back to swing and the move pulls Scar towards him, putting him easily in range. Scar could curse that string. It’s supposed to be a safety net, pull your soulbound out of danger, protect them at any cost. The hit comes when he’s too busy thinking to get out of the way. 

Another heart, how many more is Grian worth? 

He pulls on Grian’s fist, turning a little as he does so, dodging, but also yanking him around. Grian’s bird bones make him fragile, slamming into the wall comes with a sound not unlike falling through twigs in a tree. He squawks loudly, one wing hanging uselessly against his body. 

His screech is blood curdling, and he lashes out with sharp claws, raking them across Scar’s face, reopening long closed wounds. The pain was dizzying, knocking them both half a heart from death. He wonders if he should plead for his life, but the vindictive look on Grian’s face tells him there will be no mercy. He doesn’t deserve mercy after all. 

What has Scar ever done to deserve mercy? 

There is a moment where he thinks Grian will stop. Perhaps he thinks there will be some hesitation. Surely there would be some hesitation. Is your life worth destroying your enemy? Inevitably linked at the cost of your own soul. Does Grian value it all so little that he would destroy himself in the pursuit of destroying Scar? 

It never should’ve been a question, the answer has always proven yes. 

The Last blow doubles and triples, rebounding back and forth in waves of inevitablity, in waves of shame and barely restrained emotions. It bounces around the empty tie like a screensaver, like a constant reminder that this device is on. Do not forget. Do not burn out the battery and leave it alone. 

GoodTimeWithScar was slain by Grian

Grian died

Scar opened his eyes alone, his heart red like the cord attaching him to his enemy. They were meant to be friends. At least there was one thing he could always count on. No matter how close they were meant to be, Grian and Scar would always destroy one another.

Ugh ugh ugh I love hawks. I LOVE hawks. Guy who beams about how much he loves people, who says that he would kill people for people. Guy with so much survivor's guilt it doesn't even register as guilt anymore, he just tilts his head like a cat. Because why would he feel survivor's guilt when it's HIS fault he's the survivor (it wasn't his fault). Extremely perceptive guy who understands everyone but himself.

Hawks literally in the comics swings the door open to his empty home with no furniture, singing "I'm home!" to absolutely no one and sits on the fucking floor.

GUY WHO REMEMBERS HUGGING A PLUSH TOY ALONE SURROUNDED BY TRASH AS A LITTLE BOY AND SAYS, WITH ALL SERIOUSNESS: "I wasn't alone in all this. 😇" LIKE HIS FUCKING IMAGINARY FRIEND COUNTED. HE'S 23 FUCKING YEARS OLD. I AM GOING TO KILL MYSELF.