#annie figure

[crystalclear97]

I haven't had time to show you...!!!! another (late) birthday gift from my friends 🥹❤️ two annies in just one birthday wow

[craigularory-joe]

Day 3

[formulanni]

The Pit Wall as The Wheel of Fortune:

Greater forces that are outside of human control are at work here. The same forces that govern the changing of the seasons, or the rising and setting of the sun is also the master of luck and the fate of individuals. Where it lands is as random as chance - you may find yourself at either the top or bottom, but remember that no matter what the outcome it may not last for very long, for the wheel always turns.

Remember: what goes up, must also come back down.

Tag list: @st-leclerc @rubywingsracing @saviour-of-lord @three-days-time @the-wall-is-my-goal @albonoooo @ch3rubd0lls

[thefloatingwriter]

the victors as complex characters will always be more interesting than making them amazing people.

like these are people who did absolutely everything in their power to survive something as traumatic as the games. most of them probably sleep with weapons in their hands. the thought on the forefront of most of their minds is survival. everything else—anyone else—can wait.

they sacrificed everything to crawl out of a killing game. their mental stability. their innocence. their childhood.

and after all of that, they realized that the games never really end. that they would sacrifice ever having a good night sleep without being plagued by nightmares. they would sacrifice their brains to help the capitol. they would sacrifice their bodies, something that should have always been their own, now snatched away from them. all for surviving a killing match that twenty-three children didn’t.

no victor is immune to this either. do you think cashmere doesn’t regret being so excited to go into the games after her brother after staying the night in a strange man’s bed that she doesn’t know? do you think gloss doesn’t regret not warning his sister about the horrors that await her after she wins? do you think brutus doesn’t sometimes wake up in a cold sweat after having yet another nightmare about being on the receiving end of his weapon, just as all of his victims were before everything faded to black? do you think enobaria doesn’t run her tongue over her sharpened teeth and wonder if it was worth it?

do you think beetee doesn’t flinch every time he sees lightning? do you think wiress doesn’t think of how if she hadn’t learned acrobatics that the 48th hunger games would have gone very differently? do you think finnick doesn’t see nets in the same way ever again, after he saw the girl from nine begging for her life tangled in a net he set up before he stabbed her with a trident? do you think annie doesn’t think about if she hadn’t spent all of that time on the beach growing up, playing in the water, that she wouldn’t have survived the dam breaking in her arena? do you think mags doesn’t think about how she left her district partner to die in the first ever traditional career pack? how if maybe, if she had been there to take the blow for him, there would be a different victor of the 11th hunger games?

do you think that blight doesn’t wonder what would have happened if the boy from two had looked up a little bit sooner, looked a little bit closer at the treetops above him, before the knife previously in blight’s hand found it’s way to the boy’s back? do you think that every time johanna picks up an axe, she doesn’t think about what if felt like to stab someone with it, what blood felt like when it splattered you? do you think she doesn’t wake up in a sweat, thinking the moisture on her skin is blood, that she’s back in the third quarter quell? do you think she doesn’t ever walk into her house in the victor’s village and think she sees a glimpse, a shadow, of her lost loved ones?

do you think that woof doesn’t use real knives anymore because every time he sees one, he remembers how it felt to stab blindly at the boy from seven? that even when he was seventy-five and the male tribute from eight for the third quarter quell, he couldn’t even look at the utensil and had to get cecelia to take it away from him? do you think cecelia can’t look at seashells anymore, that she could barely stand district four on her victory tour, because the girl from four was her last kill? that her necklace, a pretty one her sister made for her with a seashell strung through the string, was what cecelia used to choke the life out of her?

do you think that chaff doesn’t ever feel the phantom feeling of his hand? doesn’t ever touch the stump where it used to be and feel the phantom pain of it being sawed off like it was yesterday, even thirty years later? do you think that seeder doesn’t ever feel the hot sun of her arena on her body, doesn’t ever think she’s back, waiting for her death to come?

do you think that haymitch doesn’t start shaking every time a blowgun is provided at the cornucopia? do you think that he didn’t see the gold pin on katniss’ arena wear and have to sit down, remembering a very different girl with blonde hair and a quick witted humor with the same pin? do you think that peeta doesn’t hear foxface’s voice during her interview, over and over and over, until it’s so distorted he can’t even remember what she had actually said? that he doesn’t ever think of the girl from eight, a girl he might not have even known the name of?

do you think that, years down the line, katniss doesn’t realize the fate that waited for glimmer if she had won? do you think that she doesn’t wonder what would have happened if cato was a little quicker to get to the cornucopia to save clove? do you think she doesn’t wonder what the girl from four was like, what her name was, what her parents were like, what she was like? do you think that she doesn’t think about what would have happened if marvel was just a little bit quicker with his spear than her with her arrows, what would have happened if she was just a little bit slower to get to rue?

the what-ifs plague them. their games will never leave them. they will never escape their experiences. their lives will never be their own, if they ever were, ever again.

[shingetsu-japex]

Armin Arlert from Attack on Titan, watercolor painting.

Shingeki no Kyojin.

[kayakima]

I will say something that I see on twt occasionally that bothers me about the fanon characterization of Pieck is this idea that she’s physically disgusting/doesn’t shower/doesn’t brush her teeth. Like yes she probably neglects her hair and is pretty rank right after being a titan for 2 months but I always interpreted the messiness as just a 24/7 bed head and her father not really knowing how to deal with her hair leading to her just not learning about the proper care of her specific hair type from lack of a mother figure, rather than “she’s a sweaty and crusty person with bad hygiene bc she doesn’t gaf”. I never saw her as the type to just be absolutely nasty and I wish that wasn’t such a popular take.

I really feel like if she was a titan for months at a time it would be the polar opposite once she got back to human form, and she would immediately shower to the point of rubbing her skin raw. Especially when Hange asks if she brushes her titan’s teeth and she’s upset that they even asked that question. Post-rumbling Pieck to me is the girl with like 5 different perfumes each for a different occasion because now she CAN be girly and pretty and traditionally feminine.

[phoenixtakaramono]

(Illustration drawn in 2022)

The Boys S4 Sneak Peek (2024)

*surprised Pikachu face*

[the1weird1pencil]

Day 8

I starting to notice that ever ballbuster i draw is somehow the poor scapegoat.

They shall receive praise in the next artwork (...or not).

[finnickeys]

FASHION OF DISTRICT FOUR — district fashion typically is made up of layered looks during the winter, and much more loose and light things in the summer. all throughout the year, clothing tends to be colorful, reflecting the blues and greens and yellows that the district is covered in. many items are quilted or woven, regardless of season.

you’ll often see jackets, coats, vests, sweaters, lace and linen tops. pants and bottoms, aside those for sea work, tend to be light in color and weight. working pants tend to be dark and thick, to hold up under all the labor and keep sailors warm when out on the sea.

jewelry tends to be on strings and ropes tightly braided and knotted, with charms and glass beads. occasionally, they’re also adorned with metal, carefully made into iconic shapes and images. a lot of the district’s natural resources go into the jewelry such as fish bones and shells.

[the-last-thread-of-my-sanity]

Little mini-Aruani fic that’s been *dancing* around in my brain

****

Armin rolls his shoulders as he shucks off his coat, the sound of his keys plinking in the bottom of the porcelain dish reminding him that he’s home.

There’s a chill in the air just behind the glass of the front door, but he can smell the lit fire from the den and somewhere in the house he hears a record being played.

Something orchestral and grand- different from the simple village folk music he grew up with in Paradis.

He smiles, peeking down the stairs into the lower floor of their brownstone style house. They had left it open, unfurnished- nothing but the waxed reclaimed wood floors and some sheer curtains on the window.

“Let’s discover what it can be,” he had said to Annie. “We can grow into it.”

After so long in small squalid living quarters, or in communal style barracks- having a house with three floors and a maid’s quarter seemed excessive. Two private bathrooms? A grand showy living area for guests and a private intimate one for the owners? A dining room with a table set for ten? It made him feel too self-important.

He was a soldier- utility made sense to him, not comfort. And certainly not luxury.

So, the empty space on the bottom floor felt right. It felt like an unanswered question. An ellipses at the end of the sentence.

He steps quietly onto the first few stairs beneath the landing, peering through the banisters until he can see Annie.

He stoops to a crouch, lingering.

She’s dancing, he realizes.

A few months ago, he had paid for a ballet instructor to offer her private lessons- as a gift. She was too fit, too flexible, too physically disciplined to be idle- but he wanted her to discover something about herself other than fighting.

She resisted at first, insisting she wasn’t poised or graceful enough. But her instructor, an aging man who smoked thin cigarettes and spoke with a crisp and lilting accent, adored her. He spoke effusively of her ‘lines’ and her core strength.

But Armin had never seen her dance. The instructor came and left while he was at work in the government office down the street- only running into Armin on the sidewalk as they were coming and going.

Now, he watches, his breath slowing and his heart stilling.

She looks as though she’s floating, he thinks. Weightless. Just an ephemeral being gliding across the floor as though she’s skirting on the air.

She pirouettes and leaps and moves her arms along gracefully unseen lines, her eyes closed and head tilted as she gets lost in the music.

Armin swallows- feeling a heavy sensation sinking into his chest. It’s awe, he knows, but also something else.

Gratitude. That she’s alive. That she’s here with him now. Dancing, moving, breathing, sighing… instead of frozen in time and in place.

He’s so grateful that she has this life.

He doesn’t feel the same way about himself. He drags his perceived debt to the world, to his parents, to Mikasa, to Hange, to Erwin.. to Eren.. everywhere he goes.

He could never be as light as Annie looks right now.

But it’s not his job to be, he realizes.

Finally, she stops, and he can see her breaths moving deeply in and out, her ribcage visible in the thin dance clothes. He looks at the arch of her spine as she holds a pose- and then she drops it, shoulders sagging, rolling her neck on her shoulders.

She clears her throat, stretching her arms above her head as she walks over to lift the needle from the record and the music stops.

She turns, and stops short with a little yelp when she sees him on the stairs.

Armin can’t help but laugh.

“You watched me?” She asks, accusing. “I made so many mistakes.”

Armin shakes his head, rising to stand and walk down the stairs. “How would I know? I’m no dancer.”

“Neither am I.” She says, bashful as she looks away from him out the window. The wind is swirling the sycamore leaves from outside along the sidewalk, filling their view of the street with bright yellow shapes catching the late afternoon sun.

“Nonsense.” He says, opening his arms for her to walk into his embrace. She folds into his chest as easy as any other reflex. As easy as blinking or breathing.

He smiles, leaning his cheek on her head as she buries her face into the collar of his shirt, inhaling deeply. Her daily ritual- breathing him in like it was soothing to her lungs.

He understands, he thinks, as he runs her silken hair through his fingers absently. It’s not enough just to see her or hear her alone. He needs to fill his senses with her to reassure himself that she’s truly there.

“So that’s what this bottom floor is now? Your dance studio?” He asks conversationally.

“For now,” she says, tilting her head back to look at him, “until I decide that it’s something else.”

Armin’s lips quirk into a small smile.

“Still want to leave things open-ended, then?” He jokes.

She hums, and he extends his arm up for her twirl underneath it playfully. “I just want to take our time.” She says quietly as she stills.

He nods in understanding, pulling her close again to press a kiss to her lips.

She can be whatever she wants to be. A dancer one day. An artist the next. A musician. A seamstress. A connoisseur of baked pastries…

Just as she was a fighter, first, and then a lover.

Certainly Annie can be anything in the world… as long as she is his.

[crystalclear97]

I haven't had time to show you...!!!! another (late) birthday gift from my friends 🥹❤️ two annies in just one birthday wow

[bonniecupcake]

READY TO FIGHT!

[kerizaret]

I've recently re-found some old saved screenshots from my chats with some friends that i thought were funny and couldn't resist making prsk memes out of those

[thefigureresource]

Pop Up Parade L Annie Leonhart : Female Titan ver [Attack on Titan] non scale from Good Smile Company coming April 2025.

[everythingwasalreadypicked]

Something something Thalia and Alabaster sharing a fatal flaw... something something childhood bestfriends Annabaster... something something Thalia being made Artemis's lieutenant to satisfy her thirst for power and to get her off Olympus's back, Luke promoting Alabaster to General for the same reasons...

Something something Thalia renouncing the kid she knew and cursed the gods with all these years, and not recognising both him and the child they took in anymore

OHHH I'm having thoughts and Unwell no one stop me

[deimosatellite]

ahh sorry mentally ill hours heres my silly raskolnikov and alyosha karamazov fuckass manga idea creatures again