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natureisthegreatestartist · 1 year

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What’s this? Eucyclodes gavissima aka Oriental orange banded green geometer moth. Exquisite, yes?

#Animals #exquisite animals #winged creature #living art #living sculpture #magnificent moth #amazing animals #amazing moth

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nemfrog · 6 months

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The devil takes flight. France. 1780s.

Gallica

#devil #halloween #winged creature #goat feet #nemfrog #18th century

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lepetitdragonvert · 9 days

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What the South Wind Said

Artist : Zdenka Krejcová

#zdenka krejčová #oiseau #bird #little bird #feathers #plumes #strange creatures #créature étrange #winged creature

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toacody · 3 months

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Lava Beast

The reason you are hearing DOOM music.

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Creator: FeroxJ

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diamondzart · 2 months

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Winged creatures go brrrrrr

Birthday gift for Ocelotka, the winged bengal cat.

#my art #procreate #art gift #anthro cats #cat art #winged creature

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lemnalikoi · 1 month

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#my art #artists on tumblr #digital drawing #wings #still not oc #still thinking #i will keep this signature #feathers #winged creature #winged character

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voidheartkisses · 10 days

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the blood moon is rising

#digital art #digital painting #lamb #winged creature #moon

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cozycryptidcorner · 6 days

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Monster Match #6

Commissioned by a lovely, anonymous user!

I’m bi, afab, and my personality is INTJ-A, can act more extroverted when I’m around friends/other people. I’m average height and leaning a bit short, would love to have my monster tower over me ♡. Currently residing in an area with plenty of rain, which is sometimes a bit too much, especially in the winter when the sun goes down super early. On days like that, I like to stay nice and dry indoors with a mug of hot tea, extra kudos if the mug is made by Coco (´ ᵕ `). Other indoor activities I like to do are playing video games, reading, and going shopping if my budget allows. I also like to visit natural sceneries close by (such as a lake, a forest or the foot of a mountain) from time to time, just to chill and admire their beauty. I’m looking for a monster who is patient, quick-witted, and affectionate like a typical cat, and is okay with me being like a brat just sometimes (your girl needs some spoiling after working her ass off everyday Ծ‸Ծ).

Perī

You find them on the ground, branches overhead broken and scattered over the forest floor, like they fell through the foliage. The impact crater, if you can call it that, isn’t large, but you still have to slide down to investigate fully, mud and rocks clinging to your shoes and pants. The air smells electric, the tangy aftertaste of battery acid settling uncomfortably on the back of your tongue as you breathe.

It takes you a few moments to realize that the objects outstretched around their body aren't… fallen foliage, but bright, feathery wings. With a shaky finger, you touch one, the jewel-like, oil slick sheen glittering in the setting sun. Carefully, you look around, maybe for another creature, or any sign of where this one came from, but the forest is strangely silent.

When you look back down, you see that their eyes are open, irises a deep, quiet blue that you mistake for brown at first, until the clouds part for a brief moment. The sun flickers across their tawny brown face, their thick lashes fluttering as they blink against the light, before the clouds overtake the sky once again.

As they sit up, you back into the impact wall of broken roots and dirt, unsure of how to react, now that you’re certain they aren’t dead.

“Maybe you shouldn’t move,” you say, hesitantly, “we don’t know how-”

“We?” They ask, wings fluttering.

“-how injured you are,” you force the sentence out, trying to read their body language. “You- I assume you’ve fallen.”

“So I have.” They narrow their eyes, slightly, craning their neck to look upwards, lips pursing in a thoughtful pout as they regard the slip of sky breaking through the foliage. Then they look at you, with an intensity so severe your skin itches, scanning from your dusty shoes all the way up to the flyaways in your hair.

Then they hold out a hand, one that must have been gently manicured at some point, skin still soft despite their cracked and bloody nails. “Help me, child of man, and I will ensure your future generations will be blessed with riches.”

Well, you were planning on helping them anyways, so you suppose the promised riches are a nice bonus. You grasp their hand, pulling them up from the dirt, their thick, black curls covered in dust, leaves, and twigs. They stand tall, the top of your forehead barely meeting their chin, and they move their shoulders back and forth, testing their sore muscles.

A Parī is a creature of the sky, dimly related to the djinn. Some folks confuse the two, but this Parī is very clear that both are wildly different, their mouth twisting in impatient disgust. They served some kind of monarch, you’re not entirely sure the language translates correctly, but the monarch seemed like less of a king, more of a benevolent eternal dictator, ‘voted for’ by others in a council.

All it took was one quiet, underhanded compliment that the monarch wasn’t supposed to hear, and the Parī was launched from the heavenly kingdom and plunged downward to toil on earth. Though they don’t think they were supposed to survive the fall.

Besides a couple of sprains, semi-mild cuts, and bruises, they’re alright. You clumsily manage to make them a brace out of an old sheet after watching a couple of youtube videos, and they heal a lot quicker than either of you expect. After a couple of exercises and two weeks, their arm was right as rain, and most of their bruises diffused.

Given the eternal nature of their damnation, they seem to settle into your home with little complaint. After serving such a demanding patron hand and foot, day and night, sharing space with someone who just wants help with household chores seems infinitely simpler, and they don’t seem to want to leave.

And there isn’t a lot left for them up above. They aren’t fond of talking about it, but it seems like they, so fair of face, became a servant at a young age. Traded, by their parents, for a few sacks of goods and quickly forgotten, growing up surrounded by opportunistic cutthroats. After a few weeks of carefully observing your behavior, unable to even sleep in fear of an unfamiliar environment, they begin to warm up.

Though they don’t seem to want to fly, their wings still stretch out first thing in the morning, catching the sun whenever it’s out. You assume they can use their wings, but don’t press the issue, especially since it seems sensitive. Maybe the fall created some kind of trauma response to heights?

You aren’t a threat to their safety, and all you want from them is some assistance making food and cleaning up. Though you aren’t swimming in riches, you still seem to treat them with a kind of unfamiliar respect that they stop jumping every time you unexpectedly creep into their peripheral vision… though the creeping is unintentional, you’re just quiet with your movements and don’t loudly announce your presence.

They start finding themselves wanting to do nice things for you, especially since you don’t expect much in return for your own kindness. And even though the dynamic is foreign to everything they’ve been taught, they find themselves wanting a more deep relationship than awkward roommates.

You don’t catch their strange emotional change for awhile. You’re too damn busy, going from work, to friends, to hobbies, coming back home and collapsing into your bed with a thud. And once you do take notice of their odd behavior, you don’t quite understand the meaning behind it. The flirting culture the both of you are used to doesn’t translate well, so you’re left confused by the gestures and they’re frustrated about the lack of response.

After a couple of bizarre conversations, it mentally clicks for the both of you. They understand that their ways are more alien to you than not, and you suddenly realize that they have romantic feelings that they struggled to express. And suddenly, suddenly, it all makes sense.

And even though you began to like them in that deep, warm, romantic way, you crushed those feelings inside of you because you didn’t want to make them uncomfortable. They’ve already been through so much that you didn’t want to add the odd pressure of your affection that you completely missed any signs of their own emotional struggle.

Now, though, the two of you can work on creating something a little more.

#monster match #winged creature

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silentkimiya · 2 months

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A very interesting character in a cartoon style with unusual proportions for me. I enjoyed working on it 💕 The sculpture was made to order, the character belongs to the owner.

#silentkimiya #meliodas #wolf #wolf art #dog #dog art #animal art #custom commission #custom creations #custom character #handmade #sculpture #figurine #figure #ooak #art #made to order #winged creature #wings

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ebaeschnbliah · 1 year

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Stroke by stroke they laboured on. In the darkness it was hard to be sure that they were indeed moving at all; but slowly the swirl of the water grew less, and the shadow of the eastern bank faded back into the night. At last, as far as they could judge, they had reached the middle of the stream again and had driven their boats back some distance above the jutting rocks. Then half turning they thrust them with all their strength towards the western shore. Under the shadow Of bushes leaning out over the water they halted and drew breath.

Legolas laid down his paddle and took up the bow that he had brought from Lórien ...

Then he sprang ashore and climbed a few paces up the bank. Stringing the bow and fitting an arrow he turned, peering back over the River into the darkness. Across the water there were shrill cries, but nothing could be seen.

Frodo looked up at the Elf standing tall above him, as he gazed into the night, seeking a mark to shoot at. His head was dark, crowned with sharp white stars that glittered in the black pools of the sky behind. But now rising and sailing up from the South the great clouds advanced, sending out dark outriders into the starry fields. A sudden dread fell on the Company.

`Elbereth Gilthoniel!' sighed Legolas as he looked up. Even as he did so, a dark shape, like a cloud and yet not a cloud, for it moved far more swiftly, came out of the blackness in the South, and sped towards the Company, blotting out all light as it approached. Soon it appeared as a great winged creature, blacker than the pits in the night. Fierce voices rose up to greet it from across the water. Frodo felt a sudden chill running through him and clutching at his heart; there was a deadly cold, like the memory of an old wound, in his shoulder. He crouched down, as if to hide.

Suddenly the great bow of Lórien sang. Shrill went the arrow from the elven-string. Frodo looked up. Almost above him the winged shape swerved. There was a harsh croaking scream, as it fell out of the air, vanishing down into the gloom of the eastern shore. The sky was clean again. There was a tumult of many voices far away, cursing and wailing in the darkness, and then silence. Neither shaft nor cry came again from the east that night.

After a while Aragorn led the boats back upstream. They felt their way along the water's edge for some distance, until they found a small shallow bay. A few low trees grew there close to the water, and behind them rose a steep rocky bank. Here the Company decided to stay and await the dawn: it was useless to attempt to move further by night. They made no camp and lit no fire, but lay huddled in the boats, moored close together.

'Praised be the bow of Galadriel, and the hand and eye of Legolas! ' said Gimli, as he munched a wafer of lembas. 'That was a mighty shot in the dark, my friend!'

'But who can say what it hit?' said Legolas.

'I cannot,' said Gimli. `But I am glad that the shadow came no nearer. I liked it not at all. Too much it reminded me of the shadow in Moria - the shadow of the Balrog,' he ended in a whisper.

'It was not a Balrog,' said Frodo, still shivering with the chill that had come upon him. 'It was something colder. I think it was -' Then he paused and fell silent.

'What do you think? ' asked Boromir eagerly, leaning from his boat, as if he was trying to catch a glimpse of Frodo's face.

`I think - No, I will not say,' answered Frodo. `Whatever it was, its fall has dismayed our enemies.'

`So it seems,' said Aragorn. `Yet where they are, and how many, and what they will do next, we do not know. This night we must all be sleepless! Dark hides us now. But what the day will show who can tell? Have your weapons close to hand! '

Sam sat tapping the hilt of his sword as if he were counting on his fingers, and looking up at the sky. `It's very strange,' he murmured. `The Moon's the same in the Shire and in Wilderland, or it ought to be. But either it's out of its running, or I'm all wrong in my reckoning. You'll remember, Mr. Frodo, the Moon was waning as we lay on the flet up in that tree: a week from the full, I reckon. And we'd been a week on the way last night, when up pops a New Moon as thin as a nail-paring, as if we had never stayed no time in the Elvish country.

`Well, I can remember three nights there for certain, and I seem to remember several more, but I would take my oath it was never a whole month. Anyone would think that time did not count in there! '

`And perhaps that was the way of it,' said Frodo. `In that land, maybe, we were in a time that has elsewhere long gone by. It was not, I think, until Silverlode bore us back to Anduin that we returned to the time that flows through mortal lands to the Great Sea. And I don't remember any moon, either new or old, in Caras Galadhon: only stars by night and sun by day.'

Legolas stirred in his boat. `Nay, time does not tarry ever,' he said; `but change and growth is not in all things and places alike. For the Elves the world moves, and it moves both very swift and very slow. Swift, because they themselves change little, and all else fleets by: it is a grief to them. Slow, because they do not count the running years, not for themselves. The passing seasons are but ripples ever repeated in the long long stream. Yet beneath the Sun all things must wear to an end at last.'

`But the wearing is slow in Lórien,' said Frodo. `The power of the Lady is on it. Rich are the hours, though short they seem, in Caras Galadhon, where Galadriel wields the Elven-ring.'

JRR Tolkien, The Lord of the Rings, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Great River

#the lord of the rings #the fellowship of the ring #the great river #jrr tolkien #anduin #aragorn #boromir #gimli #legolas #frodo #sam #winged creature #nazgul #movie pics #peter jackson #left out scene #black and white

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art-emys · 5 months

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This is starting to look like a fixation.

#artwork #character design #drawing #lycaon #oc #original character #wild animals #fantasy character #winged character #winged creature

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nemfrog · 2 years

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A winged lion with the head of someone with a beard holds onto a banner with the name “Marcus” written across it. The history, principles and practice of symbolism in Christian art. 1892.

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#emblem #symolism #marcus #winged creature #nemfrog #1892 #19th century

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dogisarting · 7 months

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A little girl from church peered over my shoulder to see in my sketchbook. She saw Felix and must’ve really liked the way he looked. The next time I went to church she came up to me and asked if I could draw “that dragon” for her. I asked her what dragon and she said “the one with all the wings”. So I told her “oh, that’s Felix, and I can certainly draw him for you.”

I really hope she likes it! I think it turned out nice.

If you like my art, please check my pinned post for commission info :>

#oc #art #ocs #original species #winged creature #fluffy dragon #fluffy creature #fictional creature #traditional art #open species

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steinntroll · 1 year

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Wolfdragon poseability demo