Dabi Always Serving Cunt

I'm not sure which lighting I preferrrrrrrr but it's my first time redrawing an actual scene :'D

I honestly prefer Fuyumi to have gray eyes instead of turquoise.

It makes a perfect contrast between her and Touya/Dabi since Fuyumi is deemed as the family's peacekeeper at a young age and Touya/Dabi wants to be the one to further cause the family to spiral downward.

Natsuo has nightmares.

Not memories as far as he knows, A old dream that grew up with him since that day.

Little one shot bellow. (Short as heck)

He is nine, His older brother is gone, Touya is gone, he won't be coming home, His body was never found, There's only a picture. He looks so dumb there, why was he so mad on the photo day? Natsuo doesn't remember well, He couldn't help but sob a little.

Maybe he should have complained less of the late night visits, But what he could do if Touya was sad?

What he wouldn't do to see him again?

(...)

It's Touya birthday, he isn't here, the kitchen table is empty where should have fifteen candles and a cake. He hasn't come home, never will.

maybe he is playing hide and seek and he just has to search around for longer than anyone! He doesn't mind the looks Fuyumi gives him

No one let's him go outside today.

He falls asleep in the kitchen floor, That night he dreams, Touya is here again, calling him for dinner, Mom made soup, he doesn't like all the veggies, He eats anyway, Touya is besides him. They're talking, Here, okay, fine.

Maybe it was all a bad dream.

He wakes up. Touya is ____

Gone.

...Maybe if he goes to sleep again? Such a nice dream.

(...)

Mom is gone. Sick Dad said.

He still sees her once every year, maybe that's good, he won't tell anyone though, That would make Fuyumi and Shouto jealous! Wouldn't it?

His chest hurts a bit more when he wakes up in the morning.

(...)

Natsuo is twenty, It's Touya's birthday, He doesn't sleep, not at all, His eyes ache, been burning for a while. Burning, what a strange thing to say

He is tired, did Fuyumi turn on the lights?

He looks up, Touya gives him a hand up. Invites him to the table, eyes narrowing as he refuses to stand up right away.

Why would he? He knows.

It's nightmare.

Touya is dead.

had to colour the cuties, drawing them is literally the only way i can cope </3

i love seeing posts where its dabi and hawks but its switched in a way where

people think dabi is the stone cold silent type while hawks talks talks talks and loves people when IN REALITY

dabi his theater kid attention lacking ass goes public w his shit and is a dramatic mf while

hawks has been shoved in the spotlight too often too much and needs to be nonverbal sometimes and genuinely hates doing flashy things because its too much work

que dabi mumbling to hawks about the shit he went through when he was homeless like "this drunk girl just kept crying on me!" and hawks laying on dabi on tummy cooing to show hes listening <333

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?

i might be... a little delusional..

GUYS-

Band au Toga playing this????

Crackfic Idea:

30-year-old Zuko gets randomly flung back in time to his 16-year-old self. For a couple of hours at a time. At the most random times imaginable. Imagine the potential.

Zuko assumes that it's a dream or a vision, but definitely not real. He tries not to freak everybody out too badly, but he's also fully enjoying himself and seeing all of his friends as their young selves.

ZUKO, as he and Aang circle each other at the South Pole: I've spent years preparing for this encounter. Training, meditating. You're just a [Spirit Shwoop Sound] ... baby Aang!

AANG, confused: Well, more like preteen Aang. How do you know my name?

ZUKO, looking around: Wait, where are we?

AANG: Um... this is the-

SOKKA: Don't answer him! He's trying to get information out of you. You can't give away our location!

KATARA: Sokka, he's standing in the middle of our village. I think he knows.

ZUKO: We're here? This is so weird. I was just here for the Annual Penguin Race.

AANG: THERE'S AN ANNUAL PENGUIN RACE?!

ZUKO: Well, yeah, it was your idea... you gave a whole speech about cross-cultural cooperation and friendship, but I know you just wanted to go penguin sledding with a bunch of people...

AANG: Well, I-

SOKKA: Stop giving him more information! He already knows about the penguins!

Everybody else is confused, bewildered and even befuddled except for Iroh, who assumes that it's Spirit Shenanigans™️ and just fully accepts that his nephew likes tea and hugs and Pai Sho sometimes while being his usual shouty surly traumaball self at others.

ZUKO, stepping into the cabin: Hi, Uncle. I brought you some ginseng. How about a game of Pai Sho?

IROH, tearing up a little: I would love that, my nephew.

ZUKO: I wish we could do this more often, but you live so far away...

IROH, mentally calculating that he lives exactly three doors away from Zuko, and nodding sagely: The rat-viper may never climb the mountain that a hog-monkey can, but the monkey does not know what lies underneath it.

ZUKO, sighing sadly: I know, Uncle. I do appreciate my position in life, even if it has disadvantages.

IROH: Hmm. Your move, nephew.

The crew of Zuko's ship is terrified by the fact that whenever it happens, Zuko is somehow even more hyper-competent, seems to be weirdly calm about everything, and most unnervingly of all, he's polite.

SOLDIER: Here is a report on the best teahouses within three days travel of our current location, Sir. And, uh, Commander Zhao sent a messenger hawk.

ZUKO: Excellent. Thank you very much, Sergeant. I think we can ignore whatever Zhao has to say. In reply, I want you to send him a list of the most famous officers in Fire Nation history, and point out that none of them had sideburns. I want to see if he shaves them.

SOLDIER, sweating nervously: O-of course, Sir.

As a matter of fact, the whole fic could just be Zuko trolling Zhao. It would be glorious.