Feathers and Flame // Dabi x Reader x Hawks

29: Past

You thought of that photograph often in the days that followed. The tiny hand of bright orange flame and the blackened outline of a child. It felt strange to you to imagine Dabi as anything but what he was. Though knowing he was once so innocent made that wound in your chest bleed even more. There were a thousand possibilities for what his story could be. Was it as warped and dark as yours? Was he the tragic image of what you could have become — could still become — if you let go of that sliver of hope left in your soul?

Part of you wanted to.

Part of you wondered what would happen if you stepped out of your cage and tasted the wild freedom of insanity. If you owned your life and unleashed your darkness upon those who made you kneel.

But then your mind wandered to Hawks.

He was just as you were. But was he as bruised and broken by the things he'd done? Sometimes you believed he was. You ached for understanding as much as you ached for calamity. And sometimes he shone so brightly it pained you to look at him.

Are your wings stained crimson from all the blood you've spilled, Hawks?

Your emotions felt like shards of glass slicing you apart with every movement. To go from feeling so little, to feeling far too much, hurt more than you thought was possible. And the worst part of all of it was that you brought it upon yourself. Despite knowing it would end in ruin, you begged for it. When you closed your eyes, you dreamt of the cruel, beautiful slant of Dabi's mouth. And when you opened them, you saw the shimmering gold of molten metal and depthless emotion in Hawks' eyes.

What a pitiful creature you've become, Nyx.

The princess of shadow reduced to a simpering pile of mush incapable of controlling even basic emotions. Had that not been trained out of you already? Or had you opened Pandora's box with no hope of closing it?

You sighed aloud, rubbing your eyes with the backs of your hands.

It was only early in the afternoon and you were already bored enough that you'd begun contemplating your existence. How cliché. The alleyways were silent as you sauntered through them without any real final destination. Of course, you'd thought about going to speak to Hawks, but even the thought of him was making your chest clench for reasons you'd not dared to do enough introspection to understand.

Well, maybe you had a slight idea, though that was shaping up to be just as catastrophic as everything else.

You flipped a dagger in your hand, over and over, catching it by the hilt each time before tossing it up again. What to do...? There was always stalking Hawks instead of speaking to him, though he was getting pretty good at finding you each time you attempted that.

Your phone buzzed and you plucked it from your pocket, pinching your lips as you read the message.

Dabi🔥❌🫠☠️: where are you?

You rolled your eyes and began typing back a reply that started with none of your business and ended in a full stop. But before you hit send, you caught movement in the corner of your eye and the dagger left your hand before you thought twice.

A grunt of pain sounded from whoever had been intending on sneaking up on you, and you whipped around, knives in hand before another moment passed.

"I knew I smelled you," the man said. "We've been looking for you."

Your heart lurched as you caught sight of the man with the dog-like quirk who'd knocked you from your shadows only days ago. Behind him, three more men appeared, and you recognised them all from the warehouse that day. Behind you, a woman you'd never seen before and another lackey closed in.