#hawk // threads.

[hokusu]

#DabiHawks Sleepy holiday Hawks

Hawks doesn't take days off, of course not. But that doesn't mean the bird inside of him doesn't yearn to hibernate in the winters, when his limbs grow heavier and the weather turns colder.

Especially nearing the sleepy days of year end, when the world seems to hum in a slow post-Christmas haze and pre-New Year festivities. The streets are quiet and low with energy, like everyone is taking it easy.   

And Hawks would agree as he makes his rounds of patrol, a bundle of red wrapped around his neck and his face buried in the soft of its wool. If he's not careful, he'll doze off in midair. 

So maybe, when the snow begins to fall and the last hour of his patrol rolls around, he'll start heading home early. Shoot off a few feathers to fly through the city and complete his patrol for him instead.

He knows if anything really happened, he'd fly there in no time, but for now... just this once... he's going to cheat a little.

When he lands on the floorboards of his balcony and slides open the doors to a warm house by no other than his very own heater, he doesn't feel bad at all.

Not when a sleepy body lazes against his couch like he was made for it, a pile of pillows propped against his back and a throw blanket thrown askew. That thought turns something warm inside of him whenever he thinks about just months ago, no one ever used that couch. Nothing more than a piece of furniture growing cold. But now... the eyes from the couch follows his movements and murmurs in amusement, "Aren't you home a little early?"

Hawks puffs his cheeks as he shuts the door and shakes the chill from his wings, pulling the scarf off his neck. "I don't know what you mean."

"My, am I a bad influence on you?"

Hawks exhales a laugh. "What, coming home early is where you draw the line? Too much for villains?"

"You're a workaholic," Dabi replies flatly.

"And I'm sleepy," Hawks replies back matter-of-fact. Like that has ever stopped him before. "Birds are made to hibernate." 

Dabi's laughter rumbles low in the back of his throat as Hawks peels his fluffy coat off his shoulders and shuffles himself forward, until the cold of his wings brush up against Dabi and Dabi stops lazing on the couch to make room for him. But Dabi tuts at him. "Shower first. You won't get up, once you sit."

Hawks isn't the only one who thinks about the changes in the last few months. Dabi does too, and thinks about how strange it is that he knows all of Hawks' tendencies now. That the little Keigo in him that grew up becoming a germaphobe means that sometimes, he's just that—a delicate little bird. Dabi remembers the first time he trekked into Hawks' home, boots and all and Hawks had stared at the beige of his carpet the entire time, discomfort rippling through his wings as his feathers picked up every speck of dirt that had come inside.

Dabi had never done it again. And he knows better now, that Hawks hates dirtying up his home. That includes, when his golden eyes shine with the desire to be comfortable, but knows he's too dirty for his couch after an entire day of heroics.

Hawks sighs as his wings droop just by the edges, just centimeters from climbing on to the couch. "I know," he breathes. "But you look so comfortable."

Dabi hums, running a heated hand through his wings as he makes to get up from his comfortable pile. Only Hawks can ever get a lazing Dabi to get up. "Come on birdie, we can laze around after."

Dabi drags him off to the showers and Hawks, doesn't need to say it, but he's grateful all the same.

And when they're both freshly cleaned from as hot as the water will go, steam emitting from the bathroom and fogging all the mirrors, Dabi will drag an even sleepier Hawks back onto the couch as promised, the lazy night just before the new years settling in.

"You gonna nap until the new year?" Dabi teases, as Hawks settles against his arms, the faux fur of their throw wrapped snugly around him and the pillows piled next to him.

"If only," Hawks mumbles with a yawn.

He'll get up again for tomorrow, he'll complete his heroics through the eve and new years. He knows that, but for now... he'll take a sleepy night in like the rest of the city.

[frcmbelow]

location: outside of hawk's skate shop probably

closed starter for: @hiddenxrituals (jovi)

"are you aware that it's below freezing out here and that waiting around for some greaseball could cause you frostbite?" the question came out in a laugh as hawk approached jovi from behind, announcing his presence so as not to scare her. yet he still reached out to catch her wrist and spin her around to face him, a mischievous smile spreading on his features. the two had only been together for a few months, and yet he couldn't ever stop thinking about her and he never wanted to be away from her. he was an obnoxious boyfriend.

"your poor little nose is all red," he muttered, lifting his free hand up to cradle her face in his palm. "and i must warm you up immediately. how about some hot chocolate at the diner? nobody makes it better."

[biancadavri]

justice for my man Dougal Gavorn honestly 🫡 All he did was Nobly trying to scam a rich asshole (Hawke) but oOoooOOOooh Bioware just HAD to take a hard stance against that

[cringefailkralie]

does the yelp review incident imply that demetri is a callout post maker

[thesupernaturalhouse]

Hello! With the hawk feather au, do you think Emily will end up falling? Cause at this point I feel like all it would take is a particularly bad outburst or two from Sera for Emily to say screw it and hurl herself out of heaven. At least that way she won’t have to be confronted with the horrors of it all.

Honestly, to me? Yeah, I think she would end up falling in the au

Now it just depends on how, does Sera end up causing her out? The elder angles? Does she fall herself? Honestly, all of them are equal possibilities

Thoughhh, the elder angles using Emily as a scape goat for why the exorcists 'ran off' and stuff is an interesting possibility

(@sunsetcougar)

[warrior-of-storms]

The art block is killing me but I managed this, here

If it isn't the best siblings in DC <3

[shieracarter]

Nighthawk and Cinnamon in Superman (2023) #9

[visceralprayers]

hawk hadn't totally registered what happened, not really, she'd been silent since they left the hall, and only now did her steps linger when she saw one of sol's men moving around the home of her boyfriend. their home, she supposed. she blinked a couple times, then looked down at the bloodied dog tags in her hand. people died all the time. she knew this. she'd lost many people, this was no different.

[fan-dweeb]

Hawks: Bro people are shipping us together

Dabi: To where? Do I need to kill them??

[thedaddycomplex]

I'm on Threads, y'all.

UPDATE: I am no longer on Threads.

[draphrawrites]

Dabihawks Domestic Doofuses Pt 2

Twitter Threads Pt 3 || Prev Next

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 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.

Twitter Threads Pt 3 || Prev Next

[seamonstera]

Fanfic asks open!!!!!

Okay, I am burnt out and I have no fucks to give and no joy in life, as I sit back and watch my country spiral into an authoritarian hell hole (and no, I am not an American).

So, to relax a little, I have decided to start writing cute little drabbles like I did a loooooong time ago (my birth year DOES start with 19).

Your favourite ship has no new fics and you tired of ChatGPT SUCKING????????

Just give a call to your friendly fandom elder!!!!!

For the small price of NOTHING I will write cute (or angsty!) drabbles for these fandoms: Discworld, Witcher, Dragon Age, RENNAISANCE ITALY (Machiavelli, I will write about Machiavelli), Castlevania, Bungo Stray Dogs, Name of the Wind, and a lot more (my current hyperfixation has absolutely deleted all the other things I like from my working memory, I am sorry).

I do NOT write straight things (UNLESSS it's an OT3. I fucking love OT3s)

[fereldensheroesa]

@nightsongs didn't ask for a Marie, but gets one.

The woman's fingers tapped against her knee as she watched the bustle within the Gallows. Every day, refugees. Every day, more restrictions on mages. Marie-Jeanne Valet didn't quite know how to pull away from it. How to relax. She sat there, fletching arrows with practiced hands, listening carefully.

[cr4shout]

# INT. TOO LATE. TRACKING CONFETTI & MISCOMMUNICATION AROUND THE APARTMENT. @2vain

THERE IS EASE IN RITUAL: KNOWING THAT YOU COULD RETURN TO SOMETHING ⸺ SOMEONE AGAIN, AND AGAIN. that they would not turn you away, not immediately. it's a terrible thing to be kept like that: in rotation. because again, this was not a constant. they were ships in the night, this was merely the procedure of a tide raise. pushing them closer & higher, further from dry land. even so, this tableu is one of all the trappings of domesticity, though they each remain suspended within this frame, ever off-kilter yet wanting so desperately to fit together. too comfortable, they exist in their most organic state: in the dark ⸺ front-lit by the soft violence of a magnum p.i. rerun on the television screen. bambi sat in the spot she'd made so usual that a slight dip had worn into the cushion, cross-legged & half dressed, cereal bowl balanced in a palm while the other held a spoon tracing slow deliberate circles in the milk. she wasn't hungry. and she wasn't watching tv either ⸺ no matter how short tom selleck's shorts were this episode. she was watching hawk. " you're quiet. " because feeling her watching him had not been enough. it was an observation: he was not only being watched but they were seen. " it's not the race ⸺ is it? "

[thisgusting]

"don't wanna alarm you... but i gotta," not the best thing to say when entering the room, but the other must deal with that. the information hawk is about to share is too crucial for pleasantries. usually, she'd use a different approach, but... standing there like an npc who's about to give someone a quest, holding a tiny packet of fries would have to do. "these sly cunts are planning something sinister — you know, how they always need to spice things up by the end of a drama ??" a rhetorical question. she doesn't even bother waiting for an answer. "oh, i'm fucking livid !! i may have heard a lil' too much, and found out they're trying to do some editing magic with a sprinkle of spreading rumours, to make us seem like we hate eachother's guts, for some reason..." mouth talking faster than the speed of light, hawk's brain cannot keep up. the usual. "thought i would let you know none of it is real, and i'm actually quite fond of you, yeah ??" right. because that will make this situation any better !! "we're sticking together... — we must find a way to be extra petty and show them who's actually the damn star of the show..." // @wcvensouls

[dionadaiir]

Lol, I was just sitting on this and debating whether I should send it or not.

the answer is: Yes always send it in! <3333