#monster boyfriend
Alex Brightman as Beetlejuice is just ✨chef’s kiss✨
Just bought tickets to see this in April! I can’t WAIT
Crawling out of the wood work to post a single piece of fan art before I disappear once more into the void
Anyway Helluva Boss is so damn good and I can’t stop thinking about this stupid bird man
MerMay but in November
Hades and Persephone
Jersey Devil design!
Moth man character design!
More art inspired by Axiom’s End. I haven’t enjoyed a book this much in a while!
quick sketch of lafayette and nid before i go to bed!! i love simple styles.
also here’s laf’s illustration of nid for their personnel file (amalgamated constructs can’t be photographed well because they’re of demonic substance):
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sometimes i get so lonesome i can’t breathe
sometimes i get so scared that i can’t speak
sometimes i get so worried i can’t hear my heart beat
anyway, anyway
hi again everyone! sorry, ive been tied up by exams a lot recently and haven’t been able to draw much, but i managed to whip this up in firealpaca, i hope you like it! <:
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Human Men are Vastly Overrated~
Forget reality, the best guys only exist in fiction & they certainly aren’t human!
#boyfriend (//.//.//) - WiccaWrenのイラスト - pixiv
forgive me father for i have sinned.
in other words i opened a pixiv
Promise?
I finally understand what people mean when they were trying to write fluff and it turned into angst
After the dust had settled, Wren climbed from her knees. A sharp tang went through her as she put her weight onto her left ankle and she crumpled back to the concrete, clutching the ache to sooth the pain. What happen only moments ago didn’t feel real, and Wren was left to grasp at the threads of realty before she spiraled.
Her gaze drifts from her ankle to Orion’s hunched form. He was strangely despondent, more so than she knew him to be at least.
“Orion?” She said quietly, although she may as well have yelled in the silent alley, “Are you okay?”
He slowly straightens from his crouched position and looks to her, and then back to the three bodies in the alley. His brow scrunched, and then went smooth before scrunching again as he said, “They were going to hurt you.”
Wren’s stomach turned remembering the hands pushing her to the cold grey wall of the dollar store.
“Yes, they were,” Wren swallows the lump that had formed in her throat, “Can you help me up? Something’s wrong with my ankle.”
Orion’s feathers puff out at this and he quickly steps over to her in four long strides. He kneels down and holds a pair of hands out for Wren to grasp on to before pulling her to her feet. God, her ankle hurt.
Standing over him, Wren felt the breeze of November sweep through the alley, chilling her. with the sun hidden behind the city, her jeans and sweater were no longer able to keep her warm.
“I should’ve brought a jacket,” she tries to laugh, to lessen the crease on Orion’s brow as he watched he lean her weight on one leg. God, she wishes he wouldn’t look at her like that. Like she was about to break. What happened really wasn’t so bad, was it? She made it out alive. She knew others weren’t so lucky.
He didn’t say anything, only stared.
“Orion, I’m okay. I’m fine, really.” Wren tries again to smile, or laugh at how ridiculous he was being for worrying over her. Instead, the lump grew in her throat and heat built behind her eyes. She pinches her brows, trying to keep the tears at bay. “I’m fi-,” the wind came again, cutting Wren off as she shivers.
And then, there was warmth and Wren face trickles into surprise as she felt Orion’s hands on her back and his wings shelter them from the wind.
In that embrace, the girl’s heart steadies. The alley, the darkness, and the men in it disappear. She forgot rough hands and slurred words. She forgot the throb of her ankle.
In that moment, it was just her and Orion.
And she was warm.
Wren burrowed into the fur of Orion’s chest, and breathed. One breath, she registered the trace of pine and leaves. A second breath, she attempts to push back the pressure in her eyes. Breath, just breath. A third breath, a sob broke out and the dam burst.
Orion curled around her, pulling Wren into his lap. His hands began stroking her hair.
“They almost,” she chokes out, “I almost-,” her lips tremble. “If you hadn’t come…”
A soft rumbling was the only response she got.
Orion grabs the grocery bag full of ingredients and stands. He swiftly makes his way out of the alley onto the quiet street. Orion makes one, two, then three leaps before extending his wings and launching into the air. With Wren in his arms, he climbed above the lights of the rural town and towards the woods.
In minutes, Orion had the old barn he called home in sights. He circled and landed at the window of the hay loft and crawled inside.
Gently, Wren is placed into a nest of hay, pine needles, and quilts.
Her tears had dried now, all that was left was the red puffiness of her face. Wren wiped her nose on her sleeve, “Thanks Orion.”
Orion hummed and kneels near her ankle, staring at her.
“It doesn’t hurt as much now. I think I just fell on it weird.”
Orion looks at Wren’s ankle closely, observing it to make sure that her words were the truth. Then, he begins to loosen her shoe off her foot and pull off her sock before moving to the other one.
Wren was quiet. Vaguely she thought, any other day she would bat his hands away, insisting that if she wanted her shoes off she’d do it herself. Right now, her body sank in relief, the attention lifting the rock in her stomach.
Wren grabs the waist of her jeans and slipped them off, setting them to the side as Orion brings the huge puffed blanket she had crafted for the colder weather and lays it over her. The pine needles rustle under the weight of Orion climbing in the nest with her. The two laid close, and Wren felt the heat of the creature next to her start to warm the space under the blanket.
“I don’t think they will tell anyone,” Wren’s voice mumbles under the blanket, “They’d have to admit to committing a crime. No one would believe them anyways.”
Wren curls tighter into Orion, “If I were like you,” she hesitated, “if I had your strength…” Her head came above the blanket, eyes turning squarely on the far wall of the barn. The trees rustled outside, an owl called out before going silent.
“I would have torn them apart,” Wren continued to look through the wall, into the alley, “I would have killed them.”
Slowly, Orion brings a hand to Wren’s cheek, “I’ll stop you,” came his quiet voice.
The girl gave a half hearted smile. “That won’t be hard,” she scoffs, curling under the blankets.
Orion said nothing, he didn’t yet know the words. What words could describe the acid in his throat? How does he explain the burning in his head? The vision of Wren surrounded in the alley swam in his vision. He could feel the ghost of their flesh under his claws, their screams ringing in his ears. They would never be able to hurt anyone again.
His spine tenses. Orion controls himself before his claws can grip into the quilts underneath him, surely shredding them. A soft snore from the girl next to him shakes him from his thoughts.
No, he thought as he looked down at her.
He wasn’t sure he would be able to stop her
You know what’s fucked up? I could be dreaming about Mothman EVERY NIGHT. Instead, you wanna know what I dream about? FILING my TAXES
country roads, take me home
POV: you fucked up
Wren’s back is warmed by the afternoon sun that seemed to tint everything around her in a yellow haze. A gentle wind runs over the field of flowers that she currently sit in, giving relief and stirring up the petals of the wildflowers that surround her.
Orion dozes in a patch of clover to her right, his chest rising and lowering with an occasional snore escaping his mouth.
Satisfied with what she has collected, Wren brings her bunch of flowers over to Orion and sets them on the ground. She scoots closer and begins running her hands through a lock of mane that runs over his chest. She brushes it out, pulling the worst of the knots from it before she begins to pleat it. Wren’s practiced fingers weave the hair to its end, then reaches next to her for a delicate pink flower with a long stem and places it the braid. After two white blossoms and a yellow bloom, she moves to the next section and starts from the beginning.
Orion continues to snooze, not at all disturbed by the soft tugs at his fur. Wren isn’t surprised. It had been a long day of practice flying and by the end Orion was so tired he laid down right where he had landed, stretching out like a cat before curling into the daisies.
Done with the bulkiest part of his mane, Wren moves on to the shorter hair near his face. She works on intertwining the tuffs into a french braid.
Her eyes are caught as she reaches down for another flower, on Orion’s arm and how the new muscle had settled on it. She can’t help but think his hours of holding himself in the air had done him well. Her face burned as she imagines running her hand down his arm and to his hand, nestling hers into it.
Wren shakes her head, cheeks still warm, and continues her work. Steel meets flame as she stares into Orion’s open eyes.
Wren’s face freezes in surprise, eyes blank.
“The flowers,” were the first words to fumble out of her mouth, “Which one?” She held a fist full of flowers in his face.
Orion gently shifts his gaze to poke at a pink bloom in his fur with a claw while Wren tries her absolute best to keep her face as straight as possible. She watches him gaze over her work in anticipation, still holding the bouquet in front of her with an arm as stiff as a rod. Wren couldn’t help but feel a bit embarrassed at her indulgence.
A large hand engulfs hers and she drops the flowers as Orion brings her hand closer to him, her wrist brushing those same tuffs near his face. Her eyes widen when Orion presses his cheek to her palm. His face feels like velvet under her fingertips. She rubs her thumb over his cheekbone, relishing in the softness of it. Before she can relax, Orion twists his head to bring his lips to her palm and presses a kiss into it.
Wren nearly jerks her hand back at the sensation of butterflies in her stomach, electricity racing down her spine so hot she nearly misses the words that come from Orion’s mouth.
“It’s lovely,” he whispers into her palm.
His words do nothing to calm the tingles in Wren, but she’s able to push out a small, “Thanks.”
Orion let’s go and sits up. Wren brings her hand to her lap, the kiss burning a hole through her palm.
“Am I dreamy now?” Orion questioned.
Wren looked up at him with a start, “What?”
“The book did that too. You called it dreamy.”
At this, Wren recalled a picture book featuring a knight and princess that illustrated a kiss on the back of the hand. She read that book to him three weeks ago though. Was he holding onto this for that long?
Wren had to laugh. She couldn’t believe Orion could be such a freaking dork.
Orion doesn’t seem to mind her outburst at all. In fact, his eyes brighten as he looks on.
“Yes, super dreamy Orion,” Wren says as her laughter dies down, but the hug grin on her face left her cheeks aching.
They look at each other, crickets starting to sound as the sun fall behind the trees.
Somewhere in the back of Wren’s mind, she thinks she in trouble.
Хорошо, когда хищ большой и мягкий.
Дженька и Память после перемирия. Видимо, сяду за новую главу…
Breaded
Webtoon Canvas twitter having a theme day of genre swap for your chars so being normal I chose sports.
