#and the scarf he deserves

[zkoh001]

Some people give the collector a palisman in fanart/fanfiction, and they are all different. I've seen moth, wolf, and different birds before.

If I had the chance I would give him a fox. A regular, red white fox.

Why?

Because the little prince had a fox, and I'm way too hung up on paralells.

If there is a little prince fandom, I've been implicitly apart of it since i was 7, since this story refuses to leave my brain, and has influenced me, and my writing so much.

[clownsuu]

I guess you could say Wally has the eye of the tiger- (sorrynotsorry)

So uh, It is done! I wanted to thank you and other Welcome Home fan artists to be frank. It made me want to create fanart as well but I just recently came out of a 4 year art block and the only thing that really stuck was abstract drawing, which I still love, but it doesn't help anatomy-wise. So thank you, A LOT (and other artists) for getting me into drawing anatomy again!

FUCKIN

K I B B Y

[newts-and-bones]

Papyrus doodle sheet (+ 2 sans guys)

[lakesbian]

alec's specific brand of trauma is Really Something because it's like. having a father who only interacted with him to scare the piss out of him for any perceived slight and/or with the explicit intent of psychologically breaking him: pretty bad. being groomed into hypersexuality & child prostituted: also pretty bad for his mental wellbeing. but being forced to torture and/or murder people, being coerced into a state where he's capable of unflinchingly raping people before he's thirteen--being groomed into becoming his father--is like. a Very Specific Level Of Issue. systematic stripping of not only physical and sexual autonomy but ethical autonomy, being turned into nothing but an extension of the violence enacted by the person he hates most. full ownership over his body and mind.

like, when you're 12 and shooting someone because daddy said if you don't he's going to shoot you, you do the action first, you alter your mind to be Okay With It afterwards--because if you're not okay with it you're going to break--and then there's nothing of you left because it's all been taken away or changed so you could survive. just sort of utter nothing-matters nihilism by age 13 because he wasn't allowed to have anything for himself, not even the most basic moral compass, not even the ability to walk away and tell anyone about what happened to him without being seen as rotten himself, an abuser first and a victim second. no one will ever talk about what happened to alec without the caveat of "but." the caveat of "he was just a kid, but he still..." he doesn't get to show himself to anyone without the awareness that he's going to be seen as some form of fundamentally bad just by virtue of being a vasil, of having done the things that vasils do.

literally no wonder one of the only times he's ever even remotely visibly upset by something is when taylor--literally one of the only people he has in life, part of the closest thing he has to a family--insinuates he might want to turn out like his father, when the most core aspect of his trauma is not what was done to him but what he was turned into. if there's one thing that can upset him, it's the idea that he's still seen as that 13yo kid who was more of heartbreaker's weapon than he was a person, or that he's seen as wanting to be that way. he spends the first 13 years of his life having any attempt at establishing any form of his own identity razed down before it can even begin--as of story start, he's had all of 2 1/2 years to become his own person, because everything before that belonged solely to his father. so he is sort of ridiculously well-adjusted given the circumstances. but awful by any other metric--and there's the caveat, of course, the But, because the ability to make decisions that don't result in people saying But was very intentionally taken from him.

and when he does finally find something (someone) to care about, when he reclaims the ability to have his own strong emotions and desires and moral compass, he cares about it so much he dies for it. he's been waiting his entire life to have something he's allowed to care about and when he finally gets it, when he finally has that autonomy, he chooses to do the most unselfish possible thing with it. it's a single moment of refutation against everything he was molded to be--everything he still doesn't know how not to be, sometimes--where he realizes that, fuck it, he just wants to do something good for what he cares about. wants it more than he wants anything else on the planet, more than a million dollars or any amount of fame. he's finally in control of his body and his mind and his feelings, after 13 years of being a marionette and 2 years of slowly learning how to cut off the strings, and he decides that what he wants, now that what he wants actually matters, is to give all of himself to doing something good because he cares. in the end, he finally got to define himself by what he wanted to be instead of what he was made to be, and what he wanted to be was a good friend.

it's a good character arc okay. i like it.

[sysig]

Gift (Patreon)

[marzinstarz]

IN HONOR OF THE MAN IN QUESTION THIS MORNING:

LOOK

[souptomatobasil]

Nick Valentine with a Scarf, a rq from Fern!

[strawberrus0da]

[bobsquatley]

they are on a date 💛❤️

[un0vian]

Happy Birthday Silver :)

[hikarinokusari]

He stole another scarf of mine.

[cerise-on-top]

hi!!! :3333

so to answer your questions, I’ve never had him drawn before, but I might in the near future since I REALLY love him ♥️ I’ll show you if I do!! And he used to have some jealousy, mainly as a kid being surrounded by other flying moon moths. but not as much anymore, sometimes when he sees a chance to get involved in something, but can reach it from ground level. He got his nickname from the fact that he has brown fur with dark stripes that has been so fascinating that it has caused many to find him attractive (like a blonde bombshell. Basically it’s a term for someone who is really gorgeous) I’m curious about Arya!! Was she born a demon? You said she had a human form, was she a human that transformed into a demon?! And if so, why is she a moth? ARE HER SIBLINGS MOTHS?! What are they like?!

Ohh, I see! Sorry, I genuinely didn't know what the term Bomshell meant! I always thought a bombshell was just the outer layer of a missile or something! But thank you for explaining! And please do have them drawn! I'd love to see them in all their glory :D It makes sense that he'd be jealous, you can do so many more shenanigans when you can fly, but he can be a menace without being airborn as well! You said that he specialized in dark magic, what kind of magic does he do in particular? Were they different as a child? Like, were they more shy and became more mischievous as a result since their family gave them up? :o Also, you mentioned he's tall, just how tall is he? Because Arya, in her human form, is also pretty tall for a "woman"! In her demon form she's roughly two and a half meters tall! And yes, Arya was born a demon! She was born to a royal family who rules over some parts of hell and has 12 siblings! She's the oldest out of all of them, however! Her parents were moth demons, so she took after them! Arya really does love her family, she has a good relationship with them, she's just a bastard by choice! And yes, her siblings are also moths, though they're much younger than her! Arya is roughly 236 years old, even if she is still very young! But then again, time works differently in Hell, so in our world she'd be maybe around 24 years old! So her siblings are anywhere between 30 and 210 years old! It's a bit difficult to tell you what all of them are like since there's so many of them and since there's such an age discrepancy, but generally speaking, they're not too bad! They're not downright cruel as the children of rulers, but they do use their privileges from time to time if they can! However, they wouldn't go out of their way to ask their parents to incarcerate someone just because they got the last piece of candy! The younger ones act more childish and immature than the older ones, but they normally do behave! Arya often takes care of her siblings when she can, but she's also out and about more often than not, going on adventures and seeing the world!

[starryeyedadmirer]

✨Belly, belly, belly!!!✨

[tangential-hooligan]

my son boy deserves to be happy 🥺💖

[thephantomtheory]

Earl Grey, Lavender, and a Bow | Levi x Reader

notes: alright... i'm back after a mini hiatus for my love's birthday. here's a lil drabble.

content: levi x reader, canonverse ig? just you being sweet for levi's birthday xx

cw: sfw, but really mild mentions of grief/loss if you squint

-

Levi never knew how you learned his birthday. He’d managed to keep that information unwaveringly private, despite Hange’s desperate attempts and sleepless nights wildly digging through archives to uncover it. He suspected that, perhaps Erwin knew, but if so, never said a word, which went much appreciated by Levi.

Levi’s birthday was something he’d rather not acknowledge. He never did like a fuss, or an excess of attention, or spirited social gatherings. He didn’t see the point in celebrating another year while so many of his comrades would not… could not…

In fact, the first year he’d known you, he’d honestly forgotten about the occasion himself. It was a quiet day and frigidly cold, as it always was that time of year. The sun set early, pale orange and icy blue hues loosely sinking beneath the edge of the Walls, the remaining faded light sparkling over the new layer of snow.

It crunched like muffled sighs underneath his shoes as he walked back to Headquarters from the local tea shop. He’d restocked on Earl Grey and crushed lavender, but he’d been hoping to find a rare blend, black and earthy leaves specific to the season, but unfortunately left empty-handed.

The wind picked up and Levi pulled his scarf tighter around him. Three young children threw snowballs at each other in the middle of the street, their cheeks pinched rosy from the cold, while their laughter swelled innocently and bright into the evening. It was simple. But it was everything. He walked on.

By the time he made it back to Headquarters he had buried his nose into his scarf and his black hair was decorated with a white dusting of flurried snowflakes. The building was more quiet than usual, as everyone had a few weeks off and whoever had families went to spend time with them. Of course, there were many members who had learned to make a family out of their fellow soldiers, including a select few from Levi’s own squad, and they milled about in the dining commons while Levi passed by as a shadow, on his way back to his office to prepare for tea with you, a nightly routine that the two of you had fallen into much like snowflakes fall to the earth; effortless and weightless, but falling nonetheless.

He unlocked the door to his office, leaning back against it until it clicked closed, sighed. He unwrapped his scarf from around him, peeled off his mittens and placed them neatly on his desk, setting his coat on the back of his chair. He went to light the fire and then began to prepare the tea. He turned again to his desk, where he’d left his packages, and spotted something red just on the corner.

He blinked. A subtle red bow. Atop a grey-blue tin box. Right next to his mittens. How did he miss this?

Levi picked it up, analyzed the print on the front of the box, and realized it was the tea he was unable to find earlier.

He ran his thumb over the velvet of the bow, and then he remembered.

He felt the soft fabric under his skin. And then he realized.

He didn’t have to ask who’d left it. Just the other week, he’d mentioned he was looking for this tea during one of your late night conversations. And you always listened.

Not much later you were sat across from him, sipping the tea he’d just poured for you. You brought the cup to your lips, tasting, and mused,

“Mm, new blend?”

“Just got it today.”

“It’s nice.”

The fire crackled beside you. He eyed you.

“How’d you know?”

You smiled into your cup.

“Know what?”

A small grin pulled at the corners of his lips, which he hid as he sipped.

“Brat…

Thank you.”

©2022 thephantomtheory | do not repost my work anywhere, and do not plagiarize (reblogs much appreciated)

[agent-gladhand]

The primal urge to make tired, sad men warm and comfortable.