criquette-was-here

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Don't be so blue

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More of our sonas - just chilling

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oh no....the full moon...you have to run, i won't be able to control myself once i tr-AUGH....GRRRRRRRAAAAAUUUYGGGGHHHHHH *painfully contorts my body and my bones crack and when my scary transformation is complete i am a little rabbit sitting peacefully on the ground*

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I need a giant monster to pin me down so I can’t move. Not for sexual reasons, I just think it’d be good for my mental health.

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[WIP] drawing hella trinkets for a commissioned character design

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really like it when a monster is normally incredibly soft and gentle and then they get some kind of sensory input that sets them off and they shift entirely into “i have to breed that womb and nothing on god’s green earth is going to stop me” mode

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The Chronicler Saga, Book I: CONSTRUCT - Arteche

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keep an eye out for the wolf 👀

Support me on Patreon!

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Hunky merman 🧜‍♂️

…I’m just gonna keep the fact that I wanna draw monster romance book covers on the table 👀

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Halloween in Hanbok. These illustrations are featured in my 2025 Wall Calendar available in my shop now! 🎃🎃🎃💀💀💀

SHOP

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Not gonna forget ✨ Orctober ✨

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They call you the Stitch Witch. Because you form little bits of magic in every thread you use. Every loop, weave, and piercing of the needle sparks a bit more into what you're fixing.

It begins with a ghost. Only remembering the shroud marking them as dead, they come to you as a simple sheet. After some thought, you get hair donated and use it as your thread, embroidering patterns and attempting to pull memories from the ether. They become humanoid, but remember there are more, wandering and lost.

Always the same, sheets marking them as dead. They beg for your magic and memory retrieval. You explain to your village, and soon many are donating their hair to help in your endeavor.

Some only need a few stictches and are on their way into the afterlife. Some are nearly a new tapestry when you're done, and you've guided them through unfinished business.

The Guide brings more to you, but never asks for more so they can pass on. You entertain them as a good host should, offering them a polite cup of tea and offerings generally reserved for the dead. They seem happy and appreciate all you do, giving small things like messages and news from other parts of the world.

Sometimes families of the deceSed come by and offer their gratitude for helping identify their loved ones and putting them at rest. It's not much, but it's honest work.

Years pass, and you have a small gap in clientele for the first time in seasons. Your hair has started to go white, and calluses have long formed on your fingertips.

Others have picked up your craft, spreading awareness and assisting many around the region. Of course, you're still the one many go to. And your first client always brings in new customers.

But today was different. There was a stillness in the air, the air finally taking on autumn's chill, but a few shuddering breaths of summer remained.

The silence curled through the air like the steam rising from the tea cups. The Guide sat and stared at your latest project, a combined tapestry of nearly a dozen types of hair, forming a rich forest scene.

"Are you ready to move on?" The words were out before you realized.

They shook their head, hovering a few finger widths above you.

"I have unfinished business."

"Let's stitch some memories." You pull out a spoon of dark hair, curly and thick, and cup you hand under the edge of the shroud, pulling it toward you. While the edges are frayed, some having faded into the ether , you see a few white ones that seem fresh.

"And try to make sense of it all. Finally make a map of your unfinished business "

"I'm afraid I can't." Translucent hands form and take yours. Your skin tingles, like it's fallen asleep.

"why not?"

"Because I know what it is." Hands squeeze yours once, twice. Three times.

"There is one soul I want to make sure I guide to the other side. But they aren't wrapped in a shroud. Until then, I will remain. Creating memories and mapping out this life."

And freezing lips press toward yours, the cloth barrier making it rough, like the faintest hint of scruff on a chin. Lips form, but are like chiseled marble, too hard and unmoving. When they pulled away, threads moved across their shroud, twisting into braids and knots that just as quickly untied themselves.

"Who I was before doesn't matter." They assure you. "I feel like these threads pulled us together for a reason, and it would be a shame to damage this work of art by cutting them."

Your lips still tingled at the memory of their touch. Reaching up, you pluck a few hairs from your scalp, slipping them into a small pouch.

"Then I expect you to be there and ready to guide me when my time comes. And I'll finally get to see your true face."

You reached out and touched the shroud. Pins and needles went up your arms. Not unpleasant, but certainly... Different.

The places your hands traveled formed under your fingers, memories of a body allowing it to form.

You kissed Guide again, a chill going through your being. Closing your eyes, you blew into where their mouth would be. And for an instant, the limbs formed and arms wrapped around you.

"I've wanted to do this for years." They whispered in your ear. "To feel your warmth in this icy world."

"Do it as long as you like." You leaned into them, a smile on your face.

You had been one another's constant, and knowing it would continue into the next journey gave you a bit of comfort, and you could already see the memories forming, creating a small picture in your hearts.

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Weretober Day 1 - Wolf

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I imagine orcs snore super fucking loud. Like a chainsaw, but worse. It damn near shakes the ground everytime they do. Keeps the predators away, at least. Like the growl of a feral beast every time they breathe in and let it out.

Of course, when they see you bleary eyed the next morning, they help make some earplugs for you. But just in case they need to run in the middle of the night, they take you into their arms and let you sleep on their chest, not complaining when you have to use a little bit of fur as a pillow.

While your ears are plugged, the gentle raising of their chest, and the vibrations help lull you to sleep, along with the shared body heat, and soon you're up every day well rested. Of course, this means on mornings when you do look sleepy, everyone knows you fucked nasty the night before.

Of course... The primal grunts and growls coming from your tents may have been a clue...