I decided to use this one as a redraw because drawing muscular men isn’t my strong suit and I wanted to play with more lighting. I shall definitely learn more on how to do snow though. I was playing around with textures. Not exactly working but thats okay ☺️
I do like how this came out overall though. He still isn’t my favorite homunculus but he is quite unique. While drawing him, I felt like (facial structure-wise) I was drawing Demise from Skyward Sword. I may try drawing him one day.
It’s Christmas Eve and y’all know what that means-
Some fmab Christmas headcanons, featuring the homunculi!
Greed was the one to start the tradition. Mostly because he wanted presents. The others go along with it because hey, who doesn’t like presents?
Every year they pick out the BIGGEST tree they can find (usually around 20-30 feet tall). This is becuase Pride (and probably Envy) INSISTS that their tree has to be better than any human’s.
(Suggested by a friend) One year when the went to get a Christmas tree, they forgot the saw. It took them ages to pursuade Lust to use her nails to cut it.
Envy HATES Christmas music with a passion, but he sings along anyway to annoy the others. This has started MANY fights (one of which ended with Lust putting duct tape over Envy’s mouth).
Decorating the tree is chaos. Since it’s such a big tree, a LOT of ornaments are needed. Several fights break out over who gets to hang what ornament.
It takes all seven of them plus Father to figure out how to get the lights on. It takes at least an hour every year.
Pride tries to climb the tree to hang ornaments on the higher branches because he REFUSES to let any of the others pick him up.
Lust takes an absurd amount of time to decide where she should hang her ornaments.
Wrath doesn’t take nearly as much time as Lust, but still tries to make the tree look decent.
Sloth hangs a single ornament and leaves to take a nap.
Greed likes to hoard the ornaments. He hangs them like a normal person.
Envy could not care less where the ornaments go. He hangs them as haphazardly as possible, which annoys Lust and Wrath to no end. They usually end up repositioning them.
Gluttony tries to eat the ornaments. And the tree. And the lights.
Somehow, by the time they’re finished, the tree looks amazing (probably because of Lust and Wrath).
Envy is usually the one to put the star on top of the tree, since he’s the only one tall enough when he’s in his true form. The only exception to this is when Pride throws a big enough hissy-fit that Father lets him do it.
(Suggested by a friend) They do secret santa. Every year, they all get each other coal. Gluttony eats the coal.
Christmas day rolls around, and around 70% of the gifts are either prank wrapped or just prank gifts. Envy in particular likes to get everyone else glitter bombs.
(Second part suggested by a friend) Father has a large collection of “World’s Best Dad” mugs. He keeps them hidden. He’s lost track of how many he has, so Envy has taken to just grabbing one from the cabinet and re-wrapping it.
(Also suggested by a friend) Envy is the KING of re-wrapping stuff you already own. The only one who doesn’t fall for this trick is Greed, who has a list of everything he owns and WILL notice if something goes missing. So, Envy re-gifts him a plate or some other random object.
Everyone knows it’s useless to get Gluttony anything that isn’t edible. He’s just gonna eat it anyway.
One year Greed got everyone ugly Christmas sweaters cause he thought it would be HILARIOUS. Nobody wore them.
Wrath brings his wife over for Christmas dinner and they all have to act normal so she doesn’t suspect that they’re not human-
Wrath makes them all dress nicely. It’s a fight every year.
Father refuses to participate.
It takes the six others all day to convince Envy to put on decent clothes. (“I look fine!” “You look like a stripper” “YOU TAKE THAT BACK!”)
Envy. In. A. Suit. I can hear the fangirls rejoicing from here.
Do i even need to say that Greed and Lust would be dressed as fancy as possible? They’re probably trying to outdo each other.
They even manage to get Gluttony dressed up. He even has a little bow tie!
Pride and Wrath have no trouble dressing up, but Envy has trouble not laughing at Pride in a little suit and tie. (*pats Pride* “awww, so cute!” *pride smacks him*)
The amount of rehearsals they go through every year would rival any stage production in history. Wrath is a tough coach, and drills them relentlessly.
Wrath pretends to be his wife for said rehearsals. He talks in a high voice that sends Envy and Greed into laughing fits.
(Suggested by a friend) they give Envy cue cards to memorize. He feeds them to Gluttony when Wrath’s not looking.
Envy goofs off the entire time. Partly because he’s bored and doesn’t want to do it, and partly because it annoys Wrath.
Finally, the day arrives. Wrath brings his wife and what happens next is always worthy of some cheesy comedy show.
Lust and Greed take care of small talk. It is an unspoken agreement that Envy is not to speak unless spoken to.
They show her around the house, which they actually just rented for the occasion.
(Suggested by a friend) they show her “family photos” that they took for the occasion, but that’s a whole other story.
Envy keeps out of sight most of the time. When asked any question, he responds with the strangest answer he can come up with. They explain it by saying that he’s just “going through his teen emo phase”.
Sloth sleeps through most of the dinner. Nobody questions it.
Whenever Mrs. Bradley isn’t looking, silent arguments ensue. 90% of these are started by Envy.
(Suggested by a friend) Mrs. Bradley asks what they do for a living. Luckily, Wrath has prepared for this. He’s assigned all the others fake jobs: Lust is a model, Greed is a bank teller, Sloth is a contruction worker, and Envy stays at home to babysit Gluttony.
As soon as Wrath, Pride, and Mrs. Bradley leave, everyone breathes a sigh of relief.
Envy immediately takes off the suit. As it turns out, he was wearing his usual outfit under it.
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Sloth was loyal to a fault. He worked his ass off nonstop for his ungrateful bitch of a dad despite not wanting to and gaining nothing from it. And while he doesn’t like thinking, he’s clearly good at it, given that he made a perfect circle out of a tunnel the size of a whole country.
“Once I kill you...then maybe...I can sleep.”
Olivier Mira Armstrong is facing a bit of a challenge. She’ll have no issue outpacing the brute, but every second she spends fighting him is one she can’t use to fight off the rest of the paper-white abominations attacking the Capital.
Then again...maybe she doesn’t have to fight him off. Won’t be the first time she’s baited him into inaction.
“No you won’t. Do you really think your ‘Father’ will let you off the hook just for killing one person..” She looks at the cooling corpse of her former hostage.
“...two people, when every loyal member of the military is fending off his assault?”
Any commander worth the uniform knows you do not waste the lives of the men under your command. But Father clearly isn’t that kind of commander, given the army of expendable Homunculi he’s throwing at them. The question is whether Sloth fits into the same category, and whether he’s able to figure that out.
Sloth freezes in place. Though it’s currently hidden by his jagged mop of hair, Olivier has no issue picturing his forehead wrinkling with the effort of thought.
“He made me...dig the hole. For him. Now...I have to fight. Such a pain...saying no. But...Uhh...”
Well, that ought to keep him busy for the next few minutes at least. Olivier directs her attention to the lesser Homunculi. She doesn’t need tank oil for them. If she can just get to a group of soldiers (preferably hers) with brains in their heads, she’ll have a chance at salvaging this mess. But the bastards she’s facing are too stupid to know fear. They press on, heedless of how many she cuts down. Which unfortunately brings her closer and closer to Sloth. Great. At least she managed to take a decent number out before the real fight-
Olivier feels a breeze at her back and sees a chain plow into the lesser Homunculi closest to her, hearing a familiar halting rumble as she turns. “Stop it. I’m trying...to think.”
He may or may not actually know that Olivier’s still there. Then again, she doesn’t care which of them he’s talking to, as long as it’s the other group that he hits. The living mannequins pause, likely in confusion that one of “their own” just attacked them.
But how on Earth had he closed the gap so fast when he spent the entirety of his accidental invasion of her base at shambling speed? She reaches the horrifyingly likely conclusion that going fast is simply too much effort for Sloth to bother with. Which had certainly made him easier to deal with back then, but the scheming bastard who’d made him must have been an idiot for giving him a power that he was too lazy to ever use.
As the mannequin soldiers begin to lurch toward Olivier again, Sloth seems to finally reach a conclusion.
“Such a pain...to dig that hole...and kill that general...and fight everyone. Father...doesn’t care. Just...tools. If I say no...I die. If I say yes...I’ll never sleep. I want...to sleep.” And with that bold declaration, Sloth turns to one side and charges straight through a wall at lightning speed.
Sure would have been nice if he’d charged through the lesser Homunculi instead. Well, back to work it is.
______________________
Sloth wanders through the building that someone called Central Command. But everywhere he goes is loud and bright. Maybe underground will have less fighting. All of this thinking is so much work, but he’ll finally get to sleep when he’s done. All he has to do is think and move a little bit more, and then he can sleep.
Father will probably kill him when he finds him, like he killed Greed. Even though he dug a tunnel around the whole country for Father. He did so much work for Father, and Father gave him more work. But Father made him, so Sloth has to do what he says...but..Father made Greed, too. Greed didn’t do what Father said. Greed decided that what he wanted was more important than what Father wanted. And then Father killed him. Dying seemed to take a lot of effort for Greed. Sloth doesn’t want to bother with dying. But just like Greed, Sloth wants something that Father doesn’t.
And the blonde general had a point. Father would always find more work for Sloth to do. And never let him sleep. Even humans got to sleep when they weren’t working. That meant...that meant that the humans who told the others what to do also let them sleep. And Father was supposed to be better than humans...but that was what Father said.
And Father only cares about himself. If Father only cares about himself, why would he tell the truth? What if Father...was wrong? The souls in him seem to like that idea.That’s good. They used to scream a lot, and that was always such a bother. Now they usually want to sleep, too.
If humans let each other sleep, then they cared about each other. If they care about other humans, then maybe some of them will care about him. Maybe if he can find humans better than Father to tell him what to do...then they’ll let him sleep. If Father doesn’t kill him first.
Right. That was good thinking. He had ideas and information, and he used them to learn new ideas. It was like when he used the information in the tunnel to make it a perfect circle. But that’s enough thinking for now. It’s less bright underground. There should be a good place to sleep here. Just a little farther...
_________________________________
Sloth has seen babies. Or pictures of babies at least. Babies aren’t that small. That overly small baby...is that his brother? Oh. The small kid is talking.
“What?”
The small kid gets pointier around the edges.
“I SAID I just turned your big brother into a baby and there’s more where that came from!”
“Oh...No. I’m just here...to sleep.”
The small kid looks relieved but also angry and...some third thing. “Okay, yeah. Sure. Why not. You just...sleep here with your baby older brother, and I’ll...come back later or something.”
That was easy. There goes the small kid. Sloth looks at his brother. The brother that made him dig that hole. The brother that’s now the size of his finger. How little effort would it take to get back at him? Probably not much.
But...Pride did what Father told him to. Father wanted the hole dug. So Father probably made Pride make Sloth dig the hole. And saying no to Father was really hard for Sloth, so it was probably hard for Pride. All this thinking is hard, too, but Sloth feels like he’s close to something. If Father made Pride make Sloth work, then it’s Father’s fault. Pride was just being used, like Sloth was. Like all their siblings were.
Finally, the point. That was...less hard at the end. Maybe thinking is like digging: It takes less effort the longer you do it. But he’s done enough of both of those things for today. Sloth goes to sleep.
Father never gets the chance to kill him.
__________________
EPILOGUE
Mrs. Bradley did not expect to double her number of sons at the end of the Promised Day. But she also hadn’t expected to survive it at several points, so all in all things worked out fairly well. Being presented with one child the size of a grapefruit and a stranger the size of the tree the grapefruit grew on had been...surprising.
But Mrs. Bradley had thrived through decades of marriage to the Fuhrer himself. She wasn’t going to let a little thing like her son being a Homunculus accompanied by another, larger Homunculus get in the way of her duties as a mother.
The larger one, who seemed to be completely fine with the name Sloth, turned out to be very helpful, especially after he learned he’d get to sleep ten hours “every...single...night”. He considered Selim his “brother,” even though it took him a while to understand that Selim’s name wasn’t Pride.
Sloth ended up being Mrs. Bradley’s main source of information about the Homunculi, and the more she learned about their “Father,” the more she understood why Sloth insisted on taking care of his big brother (their respective ages being another surprise). Anyone who wanted to lay a finger on her...older...son would have to go through the both of them first. So far, nobody had been foolish enough to try.
And if he was slow to learn new things at first, then no wonder! The man had spent the majority of his life digging a giant tunnel. Father clearly didn’t deserve the name. Mrs. Bradley took it upon herself to make sure her steadfast new son got the education he needed, even if she sometimes had to chide him when he didn’t apply himself. He seemed to pick up on math much faster than other subjects, especially geometry.
As the proud mother of two Homunculi, she had no issue navigating the conversation when she had tea with Fuhrer Brumman.
“Of course humans and Homunculi can coexist. We already are. Sloth, dear, make sure your brother washes his hands once you’ve found a box for that bird.”
