INCUBI

eyes-ore

i tried to keep it down…

another scene from Wren’s childhood i’ve always wanted to illustrate. trying to flesh out the roots of his adult “bloodlust” personality.

Wren hated hunting deer with his father the most. his father loved the taste of deer hearts warm from a fresh kill, and that meant Wren had to, too. but it revolted Wren and time after time, he always threw it up and “wasted” his father’s favorite cut of meat. the abusive aftermath of his anger was horrifying for Wren. he was finally able to eat an entire deer heart and keep it down after a year and a half of hunting, but he hated the taste.

five years later, Wren stalks his father while he’s out on a solo hunting trip. he tracks him deep into the woods and takes him by surprise with a bow and broadhead arrows, mortally wounding him and chasing him down like an animal. he carves out his father’s heart and eats it whole, the one and only time Wren ever eats human flesh.

Wren changes his mind about raw deer hearts- it becomes his favorite cut of a kill.

dare-i-say-asexual

The stories of women in my family who were forced into lives they didn’t want and didn’t utilize their passions breaks my heart. My grandma wanted to be a journalist and write about the injustices she saw inflicted on disabled ppl while she was volunteering at a state run institution as a teen. Her father decided that she was “too fat and stupid” for college and forced her to get married at 17 or else he’d make her homeless. As a kid she told me that she wished people believed that she had meaningful opinions on events around her. One of my great grandmothers wanted to be an artist but was pressured into marrying a man who beat her. She stayed up late each night when her children were in bed writing poetry and pasting it over elaborate collages she mad herself. We still have stacks of these notebooks she created but was never allowed to do anything with. My mother wanted to be an operatic singer and was considered a musical prodigy in her town because she taught herself three seperate instruments by 13. When she was 18 she met my then 30 year old father who emotionally manipulated her into giving up her dreams to start a family with him. As a kid I would hear her up at night playing the violin or doing vocal exercises until she became too depressed to practice anymore. Like idk y’all there’s a quiet type of violence in the way women’s talents are devalued and brushed aside in favor of bullying them into “traditional” roles that ultimately don’t fulfill what they wanted for their lives. We’ve lost so much art, music, writing, science, and happiness to misogyny.

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.