Hualian Art

SOMEONE DO IT

what if someone made funko pops of nevermore?

This is heartbreakingly beautiful I love it

You, and not the state of you

Thank you for another year.

Some thoughts:

This year has been a bit rough haha at least the second half of it has definitely been tough. There's a few things I want to hopefully achieve next year, including doing more commissions and also drawing more original art.

I also want to start streaming again (although I've been saying this since like.. July) and I hope people will be willing to watch what I do.

Thank you for supporting me and sending nice comments. It really makes my day to see people happy. I hope everyone has a nice new years and I wish for everyone to have a good 2025 too.

Thank you ❤️

I CAN'T FUCKING BELIEVE I HAVE TO SAY THIS AGAIN

MY ASK BOX IS FOTR ART REQUESTS AND FANDOM STUFF

No I will not elaborate on how many fandoms I'm in it's too many to count

A knife?

What I love about Hualian is that they are both so in awe of each other's love. They have both walked the earth for 800 years thinking that no one would ever love them. They both adore the other, but they both feel like they are undeserving of the other's love. So the idea that their love is mutual, that the other loves them back and adores them just as much, is such an overwhelming thought for both of them.

It's like:

"Wow, this person is so great! I'm nothing compared to him. He could never love someone like me. Just being able to stand next to him is more than I deserve, but it makes me so happy just to be in his company."

And that thought could come from any one of them.

To realize that the other feels exactly the same way must be such a stunning and wonderful feeling. And I love that! It heals so many wounds and they both deserve it so much!

just. gotta get these out

I need this omg

Btw look what arrived a few days ago

there was an achingly long moment after breaking into the facility and tracking down 258-a in which the two men simply stared. rimbaud at verlaine and verlaine at the experiment. there was an odd look in verlaine’s eyes, as he gazed at the dark-blueish black liquid in the cylinder. he seemed to watch silently, quietly, as if what floated inside truly was a child and not a product of research. rimbaud grew tense, at the threat of the workers who were but seconds from discovering the break-in, and the way verlaine felt miles away.

“paul,” rimbaud whispered, in an urgency he hoped was perceived. “we have to hurry, there’s only so much time.”

and verlaine listened, at least. he brought a hand up to the glass. he hesitated. then he let it break, let the liquid pour out and the child slump into his waiting arms. rimbaud told himself that the tender way verlaine held the prototype was purely extra caution, and not related to how the edges of the blue eyes softened. they began to run.