Azrin Till and Crow
Comission for @cinereys ✨💖
two awoken naked in a puddle because I can
this took so fucking long
I uh, might've went a little overboard with trying out a new style
there's no way I'll be able to recreate that in the future ಥ‿ಥ
grabthekitties reblogged
souhdestiny2
Extra:
Ngl this last story mission makes me wanna only draw wholesome happy stuff. So I’ll put off the edgy stuff for later lol
Now I’m picturing Crow getting jealous because of memory Uldren and Val or Koa asking “Hold up- wait a minute…. Are you jealous? Of yourself???”
ey yooo it mermay have a mercrow
what is a consistent artstyle
Also, freshly showered bby (less weird this time)
WIP
"just a quick lineart" I said, 3 hours before existential dread caused by realizing that crow has more scales on him than a dragon settled in
POV you just came back from days-long patrol with your newest friend and told him he can use your shower
you total and utter fools give crow a new haircut
grabthekitties reblogged
lovebirds;
okay I am posting this after all :D because I have so many feelings, and I imagine Crow and the Guardian would try and comfort Saint after the whole ordeal!
The corner of Saint-14's residence is a soothing place. Comforting lights, that hang from the wings of his ship, tinkle quietly against the many decorations from Mercury.
Yet even in this place of light and warmth, a gloomy shadow is hanging.
Saint sits on a low stool, and on either side of him, perched like birds, are Crow and the Guardian. They seem almost tiny beside the legendary Titan, but he, too, has diminished with confusion and sadness.
"He always has a plan, Osiris does. I have learnt to trust him, even if half of what he is saying sounds like gibberish in my ears."
There is endearment in his voice, tainted only by the subtle shake in his hands.
Crow, inspired by his own compassion, reaches out to cover Saint's hand with his own.
"He will come back. The City needs him, and he needs us," Crow says quietly.
The Guardian looks up. Saint mourns a lover, Crow mourns a mentor. The Guardian? Well, they haven't decided yet. But Osiris is important to them, a friend at least, and his disappearance poses one too many questions and concerns. Not a single answer in sight.
"I know. I suppose what comforts me is that us, the Guardians, don't have to worry about waiting. When you are immortal, waiting is a part of your life. I waited long enough in the Vex labyrinths to know what that's worth."
Crow smiles a little, squeezing his scaled-gloved hand on Saint's. The Guardian reaches over and, too, rests their hand over the others.
"You, lovebirds, don't have to worry about me. I'll be fine. Osiris will be fine. You worry about you!" Saint says, the deep velvet of his voice rattling from the helmet.
"Lovebirds, duh," Crow scoffs, but his eyes say everything - he likes being called that.
"Oh don't you try and fool old Saint-14, I have seen how you make out every waking moment. And sleeping moment, too, I presume," Saint waves him off, booming laughter in his chest. "You remind me of Osiris and I in our... younger days, if you can say so. He would talk hours on end, talking and talking until I would quiet his mouth."
"Is that so," Crow laughs, looking up at Saint-14 who clears his throat.
"Yes. But you don't need to know the rest," he adds, and the Guardian can't help a little smile, too.
Yoooo finally managed to draw something again
Imagine someone in 2000 years digging up a box with Sanrio merch
grabthekitties reblogged
Anonymous asked:
crow trying to take care of a incredibly drunk yw
ahh this is soft, I hope you like this :D
also on ao3
“You are so... pretty.”
Crow looks at the Guardian, a bemused smile on his face. After hours of quiet conversation with barely a word out of the Guardian, and this is what they choose to say?
Of course, Crow wouldn’t blame them. They’ve gone through almost two bottles of wine, and by the last red drops the Guardian could barely move their tongue. They drank with dedication, as if seeking some kind of catharsis on the bottom of that bottle. Whatever the wine was there, it has certainly unzipped the Guardian’s quiet mouth.
Did they really just call Crow “pretty?”
“Let’s get you somewhere else,” Crow says quietly, savouring the sight of the Guardian’s dreamy face. They smile as if they see an old companion in him, an old friend. Their arms wrap around Crow’s neck as he picks them up, relying purely on the Light’s strength.
It doesn’t go unnoticed by Crow as the Guardian touches his neck, that spot that makes Crow blush with a wave of pleasant sensations. He shakes his head, brushing away the thoughts. He would much rather the Guardian does this again in a state more sober than now.
Carefully, Crow carries them to their apartment. It is not a long trek from their chosen spot of getting drunk, but it is an effort. Avoiding gazes of other citizens and Guardians is an effort of another kind.
A brush of keys, a click, a turn - and the door opens.
The Guardian makes a noise and inquires if Crow is sure this is the right place.
“I’m quite certain,” he says, carefully laying down the Guardian on their bed. They stretch on it, hugging a nearby pillow, their eyes full of drowsy pleasure. Crow watches them, somewhat fond, somewhat weary. It is a pleasant kind of weariness, too, and he lets it settle. This is oddly... domestic.
He pulls up the blanket and throws it carefully around the Guardian’s shoulders.
“Good night,” he says quietly, but no response comes. The Guardian is sound asleep.
Crow rests a glass of water on the bedside table and sits on the edge of the bed.
The Guardian turns, their head pressing against Crow’s thigh. He can’t help a smile and can’t help but gently run his fingers over their head.
He doesn’t sleep that night. But watching over the Guardian is worth it.
"It is awfully nice of the Guardian to gift you some of their old clothes, but... Why does that hoodie have no sleeves? That makes no sense!"
Glint how else is he supposed to show off that arms
I think I found my new favorite brush for sketching in procreate