Finally Have All 4 Life Stages Let's Gooo

Some good sibling dabi au to heal my soul

i wonder if they ever met again

something about touyas scars makes him so pretty and ugh it's so satisfying to draw

also we don't talk about hawks' hair okay it was like 4am and I thought I was cooking (*ToT)

#DabiHawks Thinking about Hawks posting a snapshot of his hand holding purple scarred ones to his socials with matching bracelets on April 1st.

Multiple outcries break out:

1. The public has only ever seen Hawks with gloves on before & yet here is a clearly defined naked wrist decked only in trademark Hawks jewlery and a blue bracelet

2. Is that red bracelet against those scars and staples notorious villain Dabi's hand?

And finally,

3. Surely that's not a relationship going public... right? Right? It's gotta be an April fools joke.

The joke isn't really a joke, even with Dabi's raised brow at the antic that he's pulled, the lazy drawl of, 'And what of your reputation, little bird?' that he throws behind the pretense of uncare.

Hawks hides a smile against his skin, face burried against Dabi's neck and all the warmth and smoke that he inhales. It's so cute when Dabi pretends not to care, when he does always care—so, so much. Maybe he fooled him once before, twice, but never again.

Hawks brushes it off, mouths a kiss against his jawline, careful fingers pulled across his back as he pulls him closer, and exhales out a laugh, breathlessly hot against his ears, the promise that he's got it all under control.

"Nothing to worry about, hot stuff," Hawks murmurs, like he sees right through him, the brush of his wings encasing him too. Like this is all part of some plan.

So who is Dabi to complain about being claimed for the world to see by Hawks himself, when the most eligible bachelor of Japan has him all wrapped around his feathers?

He's never shied away from attention, he's not about to start now.

The aftermath never really settles. The drama, the mystery, the uproar never answered. Hawks dodges a real answer in the way he does best — the glint of his eyes bright and full of mischief, charming little smile against his lips as he tilts his head and hums like he himself doesn't have the answer.

"I wonder," he muses, every time he's asked—does he have a boyfriend? Is he taken? Is it, against every impossibility, Dabi?

Hawks laughs his way through every reporter and scheduled interview, the joke that isn't a joke, that he carries on and no one can ever tell if he's serious, if he's just hard set on selling the joke.

But this is Hawks' persona too, always has been, so there's no fault they can find with him. No further evidence, no signs that point them to any truth.

And if every "What's on the agenda today, Hawks?" that turns into a curl of a grin and "Dabi" as an answer, that's just his little secret that the public has to speculate on, the meaning of Dabi's name thrown around.

They almost expect, any day now, for the villain Dabi to come around and reclaim his name, to set them all on fire—the joke on them.

But whatever it is meant to happen, whatever pro-hero Hawks throwing Dabi's name around is supposed to mean, the public will just have to wait and see.

Exactly a year later, on the first of April hits again. There's another post on Hawks' official. Another snapshot.

The same pair of hands entwined, the same bracelets a little worn with love and time, but there's something else to the image. Something different than the backdrop of passing time. Something more than another shot of allegedly, Hawks' bare hands exposed for the world.

An innocuous little band of metal sits on his ring finger. Blue flame gem against silver that matches the exact shade of staples against scarred hands and its complimentary ring. All gold, red wing gem at its center.

The caption is predictably empty, devoid of any explanation. Devoid of any answers. April 1st.

Two years in a row. Is Hawks just the worlds' most committed jokester? Or is he just indefinitely and irrefutably Dabi's?

The question hangs in the public, louder than any celebrity scandal, louder than any heroic feat.

As loud, as the beat of Dabi's heart thudding against his chest when the ring slips onto his finger. Question murmured against his cheek, Hawks' fingers threaded through his.

A promise to be his.

And Dabi's head spins, noise just as loud as the cry of the public, torn between defending Hawks' happiness and the lost yearning for a love that will never be theirs.

But it is Dabi's. This love will always be Dabi's.

And Dabi doesn't really get how Hawks' relationship—engagement—reveal can go this way. That Hawks has somehow managed to have it all.

But Hawks' feathers preen every time he so much as glances at his hand. Their hands.

The question burns against his tongue as he opens his mouth.

"Baby bird," he exhales, in wonderment, in disbelief. Only a bird with a lifetime of training in deception and calculations could pull this off.

"You plan this all along?"

Hawks turns back to him, dreamy smile against his lips as he tilts his head and Dabi thinks he knows the answer before he even let's it out. Before Hawks throws his head back and laughs, the one just for him.

"Who knows?"

Dabi knows.

"A ghost of the past."

… There's a dead boy in my room

He's turning cold, his lips are blue

Don't leave me behind

Know it's too soon, what'd it go to?

Dabi thinking 'what's the catch' each time Hawks goes out of his way to do something heroically nice for him, a villain...

Something so terribly close to care.

Or impossibly like 𝘭𝘰𝘷𝘦.

(When Hawks can't care)

(When he doesn't get love)

A hero laced in gold and too bright wings can't be anything but a nefarious spy with impure intentions, waiting for him trip and fall.

Only to find out the catch, when he accidentally stumbles a little too close to the edge of the tallest skyscraper, the streets of oncoming traffic hundreds of feet before him flashing precariously across his eyes, his own life coursing through his veins, is just that—

Hawks catches him.

Without any pretense, without a moments hesitation.

Gloved fingers wrapped against the back of his neck and pulling against his wrist, his erratic pulse like a freight train beneath the stretch of fabric, and golden eyes boring concern into his own.

And there's nothing there but openly raw affection.

There isn't any other catch.

"Don't leave this world before me," Hawks murmurs, painfully close to his ears, wings curled against his back shielding him from the fall, as if his strength alone wouldn't be enough.

And the manic feeling of insanity and disbelief and wonderment exhales out of him all in one breath.

𝘖𝘩.

another lazy sketch… i added the blood for no reason.. sorry edited it bc i didn’t like the color!!

I live for vigilante hawks ♪ヽ(´▽｀)/

#dabihawks Hawks, who's not the fastest hero who sits at number two, but the people's fastest vigilante, who crashes hero galas and every overly lascivious extravagances and press conferences that top heroes hold, to steal the food and all of their riches to distribute to the poor. His prime target, the number two flame hero.

And rising pro-hero Dabi, who watches him do it without fail, every time. Something between annoyance but impressed and confusingly fond, another purposely slowed step to not catch him.

(He could catch him if he tried, is what Dabi tells himself.)

But it is his father, so maybe vigilante Hawks is on to something. He's never approved of the waste that top heroes spend. Most definitely not his father's annual celebrations, so if he turns a blind eye, there's really no harm here, right?

And if Hawks lounges against a table at the annual bash, no eyes' on him except for Dabi's, as he bites into an apple, Dabi can't deny that he looks good doing what he does.

"Here to rob the poor old man again?" Dabi greets, for the hell of it. Not because he's not already sure of the other man's intentions. Innocent until proven guilty... except Hawks is always guilty.

Hawks snorts as he throws out a hand and props up a knee, leather pants stretching against the pose and Dabi's eyes stray too long between his legs. His hand dangles off the knee as he waves, "This what you guys call poor?"

Dabi laughs, sloshing the liquid around the glass of champagne in his hand. "Nah, but someone's gotta give him a little pity. He'll be bled dry someday if you keep coming for him."

"Will he?" Hawks muses lazily and takes another bite of the apple, the crunch of the fruit catching its juices against the corner of his mouth. Dabi licks his own lips. "And what of the people outside, already empty? I rather think I'm not bleeding him dry fast enough."

Dabi agrees, he does, but he's also a hero who's supposed to discourage criminal behavior. And yet the words don't come out that way.  "So work faster," Dabi offers. "You're the fastest out there, aren't you? Or is that name just the press getting it all wrong?"

"Who knows?" Hawks' lips quirk into a grin. "But if I didn't know any better, I'd think you're encouraging stealing, Dabi."

"I'm a hero," Dabi repeats flatly, but it sounds weak even to his own ears. He doesn't move to arrest Hawks. He doesn't step in to stop him, not even with the chance that presents itself. He doesn't have an answer either, to generational poverty and the poor that don't have enough to eat. He wished he did, wishes Hawks, wasn't right in his own fucked up way.

Hawks jumps off the table, finished apple core tossed into a nearby bin. And then he's at Dabi's side lightning fast, blink and he'd miss it, voice sliding temptations like the gravest of a deadly sin against his ears. "Guess I'd better get to work, lest you get any other ideas. But if you're ever having a change of heart, you could... join me."

Dabi blinks and there's a whirlwind of feathers and a gust of wind, something more than the beat of his heart and the twitch of arousal that's distantly confused. Hawks is gone, a single feather left behind. His glass of champagne and the wallet against his pockets, missing.

The entirety of the banquet table too, stripped bare. All that remains, the polished wood but not a single bite.

The crowd in the background break out in gasps and uneven chatter between shock and disarray at the sudden lack of food, their missing wallets and expensive jewelry. As if they'd attended without noticing the annual reputation that these events often held now. Daylight robbery, from theirs truly.

Join Hawks.

That's crazy talking though, isn't it?

yeah

post-war married dbhwks family,,,, UGHGHHHG

The name of her daughter is Kuon and she is quirkless :3