Archer White @archerwhiterp - Tumblr Blog

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Archer’s Bio (its old and possibly quite out of date)/ AO3 / Break down of OC’s and ODIB / Rules: 18+ no minors, feel free to send asks, mutuals only

shapeoftheday

restless spirits

nebulations

[ID: Animated rendered art of multiple pinned butterflies in a frame. Their wings shiver slightly, and spectral white butterflies flap their wings along the edges of the frame. Shadow cuts over one corner of the frame, making two of the three butterflies glow brightly in the darkness. End ID]

missingonpurpose

07/15/2026 9:37pm

lamignonette

darkaeldari

If I had a time machine I'd go forward in time and dig up my own bones.

.....for what purpose

yamibree

they're mine

darkaeldari

ah I see. reclaiming the Self

requiem-on-water

by Brendon Burton

nickcutler

nihiladditaenihilperdidi

He was certain he had overstepped. Not the constant holding of Archer’s hand, no, but wanting to wipe away the horrors of his memories for something better. Dragging the reality of one memory into another – he was relieved the gun hadn’t reappeared in Archer’s hand, as it had once already. His nature had nearly cost them the peace.

And immediately, he missed the warmth and roughness of that hand. But… that was his secret.

The handkerchief, smudged with a bit of muddy color, was wadded between his hands, held tightly for a moment and opened to reveal a gray moth with soft, rounded edges. Was gray the color of war, he wondered? They could each have a winged familiar. His own stretched its wings and circled his shoulder, looking rather impatient but reluctant to fly.

“My mother would sit me in her lap when I was little, then beside her. I would watch her for what felt like hours. There’s one she plays often when she doesn’t want to think. Just… exist. What is it…” He took a seat at the bench and stared for a moment. The beginning melody was simple enough; he had seen the motion of her fingers more often than he could count. But within moments, they keys took on a life of their own. Was this too much? More than a new world, materialized butterflies, and the envious cleaning of war-torn clothes?

“I had lessons on the cello. I played until my fingers callused. It just… didn’t interest me. I loved reading more.”

archerwhiterp

Archer gasped in delight as the handkerchief transformed into a fluttering friend of it's own. He reached for it gently but did not waste too much time on his fascination. They had moved on and the piano was before them. Leaving him little time to question his surroundings.

He enjoyed the bliss and peace. Whatever this place was it was far better than reality. He found himself gripping onto the dream so tightly, desperate to keep it from slipping away. His fears and anxieties were soothed by the gentle melody that echoed from the piano, even as it continued to play itself.

"The Saloon in my town has something like this." He laughed. "You turn the crank and it plays the paper-And you can pick the song!" He interrupted his own thought in his excitement.

"Is the cello like a banjo?" He tilted his head. Piano's he knew, Cellos felt so foreign. Perhaps it was a local thing. "Ooooh you know how to read?"

He gasped excitedly and plopped down on the edge of the piano bench beside Hector. Digging through the pockets of his now clean pants, he pulled out a torn well read book. It's pages were barely held in place and the hard cover was so scratched you almost couldn't read the title.

It was a collection of works by Mark Twain.

"My Sergeant gave this to me. I learned how to read from it, while we were in the hole." It was a moment of joy in an otherwise hellish experience. His hands grazed over that beaten cover and pointed out a harsh indent. "Even caught a bullet for me."

#ah yes before Archer became introduced to all the things he loves and defines himself by

oldmanpusspuss

I can't watch a television show until a demon possesses me and compels me to do it

nhyhu

sticker/graphic i made for my friends who don't go to sleep

philcollinsenjoyer

explained to an 8 year old that once a fruit is ripe you only have so much time until it rots so you have to eat it soon and she said so i'll never be able to keep it perfect like this forever? no and there are about a million pieces of art for you unrelatedly