hokusu

[hokusu]

Deku and Hawks interaction? It can be about literally anything, they are my two favorite characters I just wanna see them interact (Also I LOVE your art :P)

HI THANK YOU (*≧∀≦)人(≧∀≦*)♪

sorry it ended up looking a little rushed (colouring is like the bane of my existence, but I love to do it anyways)

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT ANON ヽ(o´3`o)ﾉ

[hokusu]

Hey everyone.

I'm not gonna lie, things are very hard financially here atm, and I really could use one or two commissions to balance things out. So, if anyone's interested, I have slots available for fully rendered commissions, flat colors, linework, and even chibis!

If you'd like to reserve a slot or get a quotation, check this link or DM me for more info!

Please please help me with a reblog so I can reach more people who might be interested! 🙏❤️

[hokusu]

Omggg it’s finally done !! Now let’s cry together 😭 I was supposed to draw this for his birthday, which was January 18th, but I ended up being a snail as usual 🐌 (btw my birthday is 5 days after him… it’s a sign ! Just kidding aaa) It’s been a while I haven’t been that ambitious about a drawing but Dabi is a character that inspires me so much… I’ve always had a thing for tortured characters, I feel like they allow me to tell their story through my own emotions. Might be too deep for most people but that’s exactly what I love about drawing. Now it’s your turn to spread all the love possible for Dabi and especially baby Toya 🥺 My heart broke a thousand times while drawing him...

I kept thinking about the person he could've been if he was given the love, support and consideration he deserved so much 💙

He wouldn't have been so self-destructive in order to bring his father and family's attention in his downfall...

... There are still so many things I'd like to express about him but this'll be for another time.

[hokusu]

friendships end. relationships end. fictional man whos doing even worse than you is forever

[hokusu]

A level-headed shield and a sharp spear.

[hokusu]

#dabihawks in post-war where things still get a little heated, a little 'you wanna fight or you wanna fuck' and they burn their house down every few years... only to build it back up from the grounds. 

For the first time in their lives, they deal with their feelings and the only two things that they know with certainty as they work through it is— it's love, in life or in death, and no one understands their specific level of trauma and insanity that they crave as each other. 

So they've got a lifetime of issues to work through, and more scars than they can count, but they love as hard as they fight and sometimes—in the heat of the moment, they burn down their house. 

And in those months, they'll bitch and moan about the house that they've burned down (again), about the time that they'll be outdoors, but there's mountains and rivers in the distance and the birds that chirp with them out in the open. 

Their breath evens out, the world and all of the raging inside of them slows and ebbs away like every fire eventually does. The sun will rise, in the wake of every storm. 

It's banter and digs, but it's also disgustingly fond and exchanged jokes like a secret, like love and–the sex is good. It always is. No one and nothing makes them feel more alive than when they're buried in each other, fucked over what's left of a desk, the smell of ash and cinders on their backs, their fingertips painted red, lips tracing desperation and the beating pulse beneath their skin. 

Through all the good, and all the worst—

They're alive. 

Right here. 

And whatever wound up mess of a feeling that's curled in their chest, whatever fucked up part of them that still exists, will always exist—Hawks dry heaving against an old wooden stump on what's left of their tree, or Dabi on the grounds, arm thrown over his eyes as he burns and cries but it's not blood—will have them come out better for it. Dabi's hand against his wings, brushing his feathers and holding him for all that he's worth. Hawks' gentle coos against his ears, feathers softly blanketing him and when the fire grows cold and the smoke goes out, all that's left are the stars above them. 

They breathe in the crisp cut of the night air. They scab, their wounds heal a little easier and the thought of their house—will always keep things interesting. 

A new layout. A cozier kitchen. Softer living room windows, an added study or lounge, something more aesthetic. Something ridiculous. Something straight out of a look book, or traditional. Childish, a tree house. More personal, more cottage core. 

They lay on a pile of rubble and sticks and stones, memories of the life they've built around them. It's nostalgic, it's insane. 

"I really liked that kitchen nook," Hawks muses against his chest, hands clutched against what's left of Dabi's shirt. Dabi's heart has evened out beneath his ears and Dabi is temptingly warm. 

Dabi hums, tracing his fingers through Hawks' wings, brushing ash from the tips, the stars a little brighter tonight, or maybe he's just finally looking up again. The promise is easy, "I'll build you another." 

"Let's put in another oven," Hawks voices, too. 

And Dabi can hear he's pleased in his voice. Can hear that this is Hawks' words for—I know what you want too.

Of course he does. 

And they'll be camping until they get their house back up, but they're laughing after the initial 'oh shit, we really did that again' and they have each other, will always have each other now, and that's the real home they know will never disappear. 

Because as everything they've always been, flammable and damning is an old habit they haven't learned how to curb past, but they'll make it work. And this grounds them. 

Burning it all down, again and again, a lot like burning out the old parts of them with the memories they don't want to remember, with the scars still beneath their skin, and it feels like carving a future out of their ashes. 

"I love you," one of them will voice. An apology, a promise. 

And the reply will always come, quiet and understanding. "I know." 

Love you too—implied, irrefutable, forever.

// tbc in a full fic 😭

(inspired by that unhinged ao3 tag post 'not so slow burn. its more like they set the house on fire and then pretended not to see it' and also I've been re-watching fma...)

[hokusu]

in the spiritualed hotspot. straight up "losing it". and by "it", haha, well. let's justr say.

[hokusu]

Omg jean 🤯

[hokusu]

Can I just draw every mha character as women...I love women 😔

[hokusu]

honey lemon soda // 07

i won't tiptoe around your feelings anymore, so you better not, either. love kai openly and proudly.

[hokusu]

keigo vs touya at the worst moments of their lives. + a confrontation of apathy. if only i had known you better. if only i had known you more.

if tumblr ruins the quality here i’m ending it all

anyways prob never going to be over this. could talk for hours. perhaps one day i will

[hokusu]

#dabihawks in post-war where things still get a little heated, a little 'you wanna fight or you wanna fuck' and they burn their house down every few years... only to build it back up from the grounds. 

For the first time in their lives, they deal with their feelings and the only two things that they know with certainty as they work through it is— it's love, in life or in death, and no one understands their specific level of trauma and insanity that they crave as each other. 

So they've got a lifetime of issues to work through, and more scars than they can count, but they love as hard as they fight and sometimes—in the heat of the moment, they burn down their house. 

And in those months, they'll bitch and moan about the house that they've burned down (again), about the time that they'll be outdoors, but there's mountains and rivers in the distance and the birds that chirp with them out in the open. 

Their breath evens out, the world and all of the raging inside of them slows and ebbs away like every fire eventually does. The sun will rise, in the wake of every storm. 

It's banter and digs, but it's also disgustingly fond and exchanged jokes like a secret, like love and–the sex is good. It always is. No one and nothing makes them feel more alive than when they're buried in each other, fucked over what's left of a desk, the smell of ash and cinders on their backs, their fingertips painted red, lips tracing desperation and the beating pulse beneath their skin. 

Through all the good, and all the worst—

They're alive. 

Right here. 

And whatever wound up mess of a feeling that's curled in their chest, whatever fucked up part of them that still exists, will always exist—Hawks dry heaving against an old wooden stump on what's left of their tree, or Dabi on the grounds, arm thrown over his eyes as he burns and cries but it's not blood—will have them come out better for it. Dabi's hand against his wings, brushing his feathers and holding him for all that he's worth. Hawks' gentle coos against his ears, feathers softly blanketing him and when the fire grows cold and the smoke goes out, all that's left are the stars above them. 

They breathe in the crisp cut of the night air. They scab, their wounds heal a little easier and the thought of their house—will always keep things interesting. 

A new layout. A cozier kitchen. Softer living room windows, an added study or lounge, something more aesthetic. Something ridiculous. Something straight out of a look book, or traditional. Childish, a tree house. More personal, more cottage core. 

They lay on a pile of rubble and sticks and stones, memories of the life they've built around them. It's nostalgic, it's insane. 

"I really liked that kitchen nook," Hawks muses against his chest, hands clutched against what's left of Dabi's shirt. Dabi's heart has evened out beneath his ears and Dabi is temptingly warm. 

Dabi hums, tracing his fingers through Hawks' wings, brushing ash from the tips, the stars a little brighter tonight, or maybe he's just finally looking up again. The promise is easy, "I'll build you another." 

"Let's put in another oven," Hawks voices, too. 

And Dabi can hear he's pleased in his voice. Can hear that this is Hawks' words for—I know what you want too.

Of course he does. 

And they'll be camping until they get their house back up, but they're laughing after the initial 'oh shit, we really did that again' and they have each other, will always have each other now, and that's the real home they know will never disappear. 

Because as everything they've always been, flammable and damning is an old habit they haven't learned how to curb past, but they'll make it work. And this grounds them. 

Burning it all down, again and again, a lot like burning out the old parts of them with the memories they don't want to remember, with the scars still beneath their skin, and it feels like carving a future out of their ashes. 

"I love you," one of them will voice. An apology, a promise. 

And the reply will always come, quiet and understanding. "I know." 

Love you too—implied, irrefutable, forever.

// tbc in a full fic 😭

(inspired by that unhinged ao3 tag post 'not so slow burn. its more like they set the house on fire and then pretended not to see it' and also I've been re-watching fma...)

[hokusu]

some straw hats silliness

[hokusu]

me n the homies robbing some back alley convenience store for goods

[hokusu]

🏴‍☠️Captain Dabi/Touya🏴‍☠️

My boyfriend is currently playing "like a dragon pirate yakuza in hawaii"🤫

Fun facts

The three feathers mean everything to him. They are mementos of Hawks, Rain and Kaji when he's at sea

His bounty is a numbers game in which his birthday plays a role

My moral supporters

@tiny-roki-todoroki | @alexandhisstuff | @doumadono | @unhinged-bratty-boy | @within-eyesight | (@cybersvoid)

I mention accounts that my works ❤️ and 🔄. If anyone no longer wishes to be mentioned, please let me know.

[hokusu]

Villain Hawks

The thought of a quiet evening vanished as darkness welcomed you home. The light switch didn't respond. A power outage? A soft sigh escaped you as you reached for the flashlight on the shelf next to you and cautiously walked down the hallway. Your footsteps echoed muffled on the floor, but there was something else. A sound so quiet it almost blended with the breath of the night.

Your heart skipped a beat. The flashlight jerked around, bathing the room in an unsteady cone of light that wandered through the shadows for a moment until it fell on a figure.

There, on the sofa.

He sat there, with a deceptive nonchalance, as if he'd been there for hours. One leg crossed loosely over the other, one arm resting loosely on his knee. The dim light made his golden eyes glow, as if they were peering down at you from a dark depth. Red wings spread behind him, darkening the wall, while his fingers lazily stroked the fabric of his trousers.

"You're late," he finally said, calmly, almost amused.

Your throat felt tight, as if constricted. Every warning signal in your mind screamed, yet your feet were rooted to the ground.

"What... are you doing here?" you finally managed to say, but it sounded weaker than you had hoped.

His lips twitched almost imperceptibly. Then he leaned forward, and suddenly the deceptive serenity was gone. The light from your flashlight fell on the thin scars his cheek, on the slight twinkle in his earrings, the calm in his eyes – a calm more dangerous than any threat.

"The better question would be..." His voice was deeper, darker now, while his wings stirred gently. "What, are you going to do now?"

✏️Image created for Ev1lHawks on Twitter/X

[hokusu]

For day 3 of that fem dabihawks event 🙏 fantasy au this time