#mothbos

anon asked for my BABY BOY!!!

bonus:

Phobos sat idly on the couch, paging through a book he’d found on the table that morning. Shuffling lower onto the couch, he kicked his legs up onto the opposite armrest and settled in. The morning had started out grey and rainy, and Phobos had left his helmet in his room, confident that the light levels would stay low enough to be comfortable. Words trailed by at a pleasant pace, telling of fantastic worlds and thrilling adventures, and Phobos found himself getting lost in the story. Every so often a joke or silly remark would float by and he would laugh silently, antennae twitching.

A muffled thumping sounded from above and down the stairs and -

“Oh, hey Phobos!” Sung appeared from around the corner, wearing his bright yellow track suit. “I’m about to go out for my morning jog, but hey, yesterday I read that some moths have proboscises that are longer than their entire body! Is that - do you…?” He waved around somewhat awkwardly but nonetheless was still smiling curiously.

Phobos blinked. “... Are you prepared for if the answer is yes?” He signed, staring now unblinkingly into the visor of his friend.

Phobos is careful with his wings. Scales don’t always grow back as they once did, and though he can’t exactly fly anyways, he’d still like to keep them as intact as he’s able.

He keeps his wings tucked away most of the time, using a small backpack-type covering that uses the same technology as the Commander’s weird snack pouch. It’s not the most comfortable thing, but it allows him to lay back against things and wear his jetpack without smushing his wings. Just generally keeps them out of the way. Better to flap in a small room-sized nothingness than to accidentally hit something with them when he’s been startled. Especially when that ‘something’ could range from a glass of water to Havve’s shoulder spikes.