#wraithwolf

[thecrowsteeth]

I’m back with my Witcher shenanigans

I read ‘The Crossroads of Ravens’ recently and wraithwolf is consuming me

I don’t usually go for the mentor/mentee dynamic, but twink Geralt and daddy Holt are a slam dunk for me so obviously I had to start drawing them

[azulla-art]

A fanart of a Wraithwolf, a creature from my friend's webcomic, Fallenmist Phoenix, which you can go read at fallenmistphoenix.co.uk!

[4thdevil]

t-poses in the doorway

heavy sigh .

          ‘   ... there’s tea already made in the kitchen .   ’

[destructivour-aa]

❛     keep starin` LIKE THAT,  and i`ll gouge your damn eyes out.     ❜

@wraithwolf

[bladebloom-blog]

❝ i think it belonged to someone in my family, ❞ the comment's passive enough, and it seems he has no qualms opening her hands to leave the item in question with her: a silver chain that's seen better days attached to a vibrant, sapphire pendant. ❝ but i also think it'd be safer with you, so... ❞

Widened eyes gleam downward, first at the two worn hands clasped affectionately around her own, and then to the precious gift sitting everso delicately between. ‘ it’s beautiful ‘, the thought passed near immediately through her mind, nearly pushing itself past her lips before coming to a halt just behind her teeth, her petite jaw clenching taut with some difficulty. as if she’d openly give him the satisfaction.

However, her attempts at hiding her own pooling happiness failed, a rather tender smile slipping itself past her hardened facade, leaving her true joy left out foolishly in the heavy air between them for a brief moment.Of course, years of knowing, years of BONDING allowed her to see right through him, a rather easy feat, thus gifting her patience and insight on his careless words & blatantly feigned intentions. Nobume was anything but a fool when it came to him. Her single thumb brushed lightly against the warm stone, lovingly caressing it as she pieced together the bittersweet truth behind the gift. Lifting her once dulled eyes, now full of vigor and purpose, she pulled her hands away, slipping the gift into her pocket with a false sigh of exasperation. He was not going to be the only one playing it off.

      ❝ You always force me to carry your things. Soon I’ll be a walking pocket. ❞

[wasthevirtuoso-blog]

IM DYING IM DYING IM D

[deadeyc]

❝ i’ve never seen things so clearer than i do now. ❞

        “ it’s liberating, isn’t it?”

the kid understood. how life had it’s pretty little way of toying with your head. he knew what it felt like. to be wading through an ocean of blood, trying to make sense of it all. to find just one thing to cling to and make it all worth it.

the deadeye takes a few steps closer, the tattered cloak seems more like dark limbs than cloth. he’s a ghost, floating closer to kayn. 

   “ finding your true purpose in life. accepting yourself as you are. nothing can come close.”

kayn was a wolf. but he was a rabid dog. driven only by his own hunger. he didn’t care who he had to destroy, so as long as his hunger for violence was sated– that was all that mattered.

from behind the scarf, he offers kayn a feral smile– akin more to a wild animal baring its teeth.

   “ the truth is you’re a killer. that’s what you are. that’s what you’re good for. and that’s what people will value you as. no amount of pretty ideals is going to change that. throw roses over a corpse all you want– it’s still rotten to the core.” 

[goldenkiller]

pours him a cup of tea. he made it himself :-)

   he had not expected such a gesture. jhin had long grown used to isolation-- though he was surrounded by the members of the elite, he’d perhaps never felt more alone. the cold had made home in his bones for so long, that he’d forgotten what warmth felt like. 

    he returned from yet another mission, an assassination in the name of the cabal. something to strike fear and awe into the hearts of their enemies-- this was his talent. in it, he sought meaning. something to perhaps fill the gaps of his broken soul. and yet, with each mission, with each assassination, jhin’s heart chipped away. the last vestiges of humanity that he clung to slowly began to slip from his hands. 

   he almost began to forget why he started to do this in the first place. almost. 

the boy sitting before him reminded him. reminded him so much of a time before the virtuoso-- before the golden demon, when he was the artist. the simple dancer filled with naive dreams of a beautiful world-- the world was a garden of roses then, vivid and beautiful. not the ashes and thorns that surrounded him now. 

  akara smiles. it’s tired and small, but around the boy. it’s nothing but genuine. he carefully grasps the cup with his flesh hand, and sips. the warmth seeps into his body, as if he’d crawled out of the snow.  this boy is the last bit of warmth in this cold world. 

he clings to him too tightly, he knows this.

  “ you’re improving, kayn.” 

he whispered, his voice is warm now.