#at least not to this extent

[kastalani123]

Trials of Ares: Post-BotL Ares's reunion with Hebe and Eileithyia (Ao3)

(Mortal Ares in SoM/TTC/BotL)

"Hera allows Her children one night together before they must part again. They spend it talking, and braiding, and crying.

Also known as, Ares loves his Sisters, they love him, and there is a lot of premature grieving involved in your divine Brother no longer being divine."

“You have the night. I doubt I can distract your Father for longer. Spend it well; only the Fates knows how long it will be before you meet again.” Mother smoothed a hand through my hair, and I loathe to admit that I preened at it, pushing my head into Her palm. It'd been a long time since Her touch had been so soft to me, and I begrudgingly cherished the lingering warmth She left behind.

And then I was alone with my Sisters.

I turned to them, saw Hebe’s toothy grin and Eileithyia's sweet smile–

And I fell to my knees, hands gripping the grass as I hung my head and tried to control the stinging in my eyes. 

I did not cry often. I had done it at the births of my Sisters and Children, at Aphrodite's wedding, after my release from the Aloadae’s jar, at Harmonia’s wedding and death. But I did not cry often, and I tried not to do it now. My Sisters didn't need to deal with that on the first night we were spending together in two years. 

“Ares!” Delicate hands gripped my shoulders, and a stronger one buried itself in my hair. Hebe shook me gently and Eileithyia tugged my head up a little, not forceful but enough to convince me to look up. Hebe cooed and slid her hands to cradle my face. My cheeks burned, but I leaned into her palm, shivering at her thumbs brushing the skin under my eyes — now that I think about it, she might’ve been wiping away whatever hint of tears had managed to squeeze out. Terrible.

“What’s wrong?” Eileithyia asked, crouched close enough to my back that her hair poked the back of my neck. Infuriating thing, that was. I never understood why she didn’t choose a form with softer hair, or at least styled it in a way that kept it from stabbing anyone who got too close. I can appreciate a good stabbing, but not from hundreds of needles while trying to hug my Sister. She continued, tone curious and teasing: “Is it your body? Mortal puberty messes with hormones a lot, drives their emotions all over the place. Is that it? You’re finally growing up, Baby Brother?”

That dragged an unexpected chuckle out of me, though it was drowned out by Hebe’s giggling. I should’ve expected this, their teasing about my physical age. Hebe appeared in her mid-teens like me, but Eileithyia looked two or so years older than us, despite having been born last. She must have appreciated the chance to gloat, and Hebe was encouraging her. I lifted a hand to bat at both of them, leaning away from Hebe, but not enough to make her let go of me. I scowled at them both, exaggerated, and my eyes stung against the air enough that I went to wipe them. Hebe giggled louder. I flipped her off.

“Shut up, brats,” I snapped lovingly, the words grating against my rough throat. “I just missed you.”

As I said it, I realized just how acutely accurate that was.

I had missed them, like injustice misses retribution, like a rebellion misses rage, like a sword misses blood.

I hadn’t thought about it much, up to that point. I had been all too aware of how much I missed Aphrodite and our Children, reminded of them by everything around me: Dite’s children, my children, doves, horses, perfumes, blood… I could hardly stop thinking about them. But I had only thought of my Sisters briefly: when one of the pegasi was giving birth, when I passed Hebe’s two kids, when Juniper forced me to make flower crowns with her… they weren’t on my mind a lot, preoccupied as I was with other things, like quests and…

A pit opened in my stomach.

I had forgotten them.

Not– not entirely, that would be– I wouldn’t allow that, I’d fight the Fates Themselves for my Sisters, but—

Which one looked more like Mother and which one more like Father, before they got comfortable making their own forms? What were their favourite flowers, foods? Which one patched me up more often? What song had Hebe been obsessed with for the past four decades, what game did Eileithyia always beat me in?

Bile rose in my throat and suddenly, their hands felt like they were burning me. 

What were their birthdays?

Birthdays aren't– they're not a big thing, among gods, especially not after the first millennium or so. I've certainly never had a big birthday after my first few. But they’re– good, as a date to set aside for someone. The Twins always spend theirs together, and Dionysus is more attached to his own than most gods — a habit most former mortals have —, enough so that he throws extra wild parties for it, and he does the same for his wife's. I don't care much for my birthday as my birthday, but it was one of the days in the year I always dedicated to my Sisters. The other two were their birthdays, and no matter how hard I searched for the dates, they kept dripping through my fingers like blood.

Shit. 

I hadn't even realized. 

We hadn't spent our birthdays apart in millennia. Certainly not since the Jar. And I'd forgotten them, hadn't even thought about missing them, like they weren't some of my favourite days in existence.

I swallowed heavily, painfully.

“I've missed you,” I repeated, quieter, then snapped forward, dragging Eileithyia with me, to wrap my arms around both my Sisters in as steel of a grip as my mortal body could manage. Hebe tucked her face into my neck and Eileithyia rested her chin on my head with a watery hum.

“We've missed you too, you fool,” she said, the hint of a waver beneath her voice. “What were you thinking, going against Father like that, huh?”

“You know I can't resist a good rebellion,” I bit back weakly, trying to ignore phantom probing of my mind. I tried not to think about that period of my existence, when Kronos had his fingers too deep in my head.

Hebe hit me on the shoulder with her palm, pushing away from me slightly and scowling at me, though her lower lip was stuck out in a slight pout and her eyes glistened with unshed years. “You and your violence! Can't stay away from harm for more than a decade, huh? And even that's asking for much! I swear, it's like you're trying to find a way to be killed!”

Pan’s drawn but peaceful face flashed in front of my eyes and I glanced away from her, swallowing back bile. I had no idea if my Family had already been informed of his passing; I had made a sacrifice to Hermes, a sure way to get his attention, but that hardly meant the message had spread immediately. Godly messenger he may be, but keeping the information to himself for a short while would not be out of character — especially information about Pan. The boy had been his pride and joy, once upon a time, before he disappeared. Some certain, final grieving was in order. 

I pulled Hebe back in, this time burying my face in her shoulder. 

“Can we please not talk about that?” I murmured. “I'm mortal enough, and this is our only night together for the foreseeable future. I would rather hear of our Family's exploits, and your own.” I paused, then chuckled dryly, pressing my face harder against my Sister. “Or are you two out of the loop, for once in your lives?”

Eileithyia– cackled, messing up my hair roughly. I pulled away from both of them; still close, still brushing against each other, but no longer huddled together like defensive soldier formations. She grinned at me, silver drops clinging to her eyelashes. “Who do you think we are? Is your memory going already, old man? ‘Course we're in the loop!”

I shifted to lean back on my arms, legs crossed, and my Sisters also moved to settle in more comfortable positions, forming a little circle with the three of us. 

If the trees were a little shorter, the foliage a little thinner, the temperature a little higher–

I could almost pretend we were back in Thrace.

--------

“Little Eros has found a lovely boy to share with his wife,” Hebe cooed, clasping her hands together. I pulled her head back a little to get a better angle to arrange the strands of hair I was working with and hummed for her to continue. My Sisters had already stumbled over each other to recount Apollo's latest concerts, Hermes’s recent tricks, and Hephaestus’s experimental creations, among other things, and have finally started on the personal lives of my Family; Dite was playing around with a pair of actresses, my Twins were wreaking havoc as always, Eileithiya had been eyeing a nurse for the first time in decades, and on and on and on. Artemis’s chariot, more than halfway through its course, painted the forest in silver, and Eileithyia had set up several small, floating lights across the clearing to drive away the darkness. “They've been romancing him for the past month or two, and he seems very smitten! He's a potter with a darling little store, he makes lovely vases. His daughter does stained glass crafts, and she seems to be taking to our little ones well. They're Vulcan’s legacies, and very sweet. I think you'd like them quite a lot.”

“They sound very… charming,” I said, reproachful, scrunching up my face. They seemed very tooth-rooting — more Dite’s tastes than mine, and very fitting for our Son and Daughter-in-Law. I could approve, but that didn't mean I would necessarily like them.

Eileithyia snorted, coaxing another bunch of flowers from the ground to add to the wreath she was weaving. “She's forgotten to mention that the boy makes a good number of pots purely to throw and destroy them when angry or threatening, and the daughter is a sword dancer. Artists they may be, but that does not remove their proclivity for violence.”

I raised a brow with a faint grin. “That sounds more like it. They Clear-Sighted?” Hebe attempted to shake her head, but I tightened my grip to steady it. She giggled as I batted her on the head with a growl. “Don’t move, brat! I’m working here! A yes or no would’ve sufficed.”

“But it’s so fun to annoy you!” she chirped. I pulled her hair harshly, careful not to mess up the strands, and received a squeak in response. Eileihtyia laughed, the flowers almost coming undone in her hands.

“Want me to stop braiding?” I asked. Hebe whined, perfectly imitating a scorned pup.

“Don’t you dare, asshole!” She straightened up into a picture-perfect position: back like a board, shoulders low and pushed back, chin high, et cetera et cetera. “I’ll stay still if you can’t deal with the challenge of a moving model.”

I sucked in a breath through my teeth, hands tightening. She was baiting me, the little shit. The audacity. The gall.

The way I couldn't resist. 

I opened my mouth–

“Please don't fight, you two,” Eileithyia said, leaning over to rest her chin on my shoulder. I could see the pout on Hebe's lips, despite her being turned away from me. Eileithyia nuzzled against my neck, and I relaxed my shoulders, which I hadn’t even realized had gone up. “You can make up for all your overdue fights when Ares is back on Olympus, alright? No point wasting time on them now. Just let him braid in peace.”

Hebe sniffed haughtily but nodded the slightest bit. Eileithyia dug a finger into my ribs, so I mumbled my own agreement before focusing on braiding again. She shifted away with a satisfied noise, returning to her own handiwork.

It was nice. 

We'd spent much of our childhood in much the same way, hiding away in Thracian clearings and meadows together, back before I'd been called back to Olympus to take my Throne and birthright. Afterwards, we'd shifted more towards parties and Olympus, away from the Earth Mother’s simpler pleasures. Even if we did choose to spend time secluded in nature, we usually brought along alcohol, or weapons, or a looking glass to spy on mortal affairs, rather than just bask in each others’ presence.

This was much simpler, and childish. We never should have stopped doing it this way.

I tied off Hebe’s braids with pink, silk ribbons she had produced for me, and stayed still, just looking at her, even as she turned her head to face me. She smiled lightly before shifting to climb into my lap and wrap her arms around my neck, losing a few years off her form to fit. I hugged her back, resting my chin atop her head with a hum and closing my eyes. I was safe and comfortable, my limbs pleasantly heavy and the rage in my veins softer than usual. This night was like a balm applied to a gaping wound, something my children had attempted to achieve but never could.

A weight was settled upon my brow and I lazily fluttered my eyes back open, just a bit, to look at Eileithyia, the flower crown she had been making gone — on my head, I knew without a doubt. She grinned at me, eyes impossibly soft, and shuffled over to lean against me. I closed my eyes again.

Father could have struck me down right then and there, and I would have been happy.

“Hey, Ares?” Hebe whispered, hesitant. She sounded like a little kid afraid of getting in trouble. I made a noise for her to continue. It was rare that either of my Sisters hesitated about anything with me, and a spike of worry fluttered in my chest. “You… are going to come back to Olympus, right?”

My eyes snapped open and I leaned back, untangling us so I could hold Hebe by the shoulders, looking at her face. It was so young, a preteen, and her eyes were wide and watery, her lower lip already bitten through to ichor. Eileithyia leaned over to place her head next to Hebe’s, also shifted to look younger than me, finally. Hers was less open, more serious, but her left cheek was ever-so sucked in, like she was chewing on it. I looked from one face to the other, then back again, and again, and again, heart beating rapidly enough that I could feel it — an unfamiliar and off-putting sensation that made me want to rip my chest open. My throat hurt, but I forced my mouth to open:

“Why wouldn’t I?”

Hebe made a strangled noise that sounded vaguely like an attempt at a “because”, but clearly, words were not cooperating with her at the moment. She looked at Eileithyia, wide-eyed and suddenly panicked, hands flying up to grip my wrists tightly; too tightly. I pursed my lips to keep from wincing, and I could swear my bones creaked — but I said nothing. She wasn’t about to break my stupidly fragile mortal body, so I could handle it. Probably.

I focused on Eileithyia’s attempt to speak; she opened and closed her mouth a few times before managing a weak: “Promise you won’t die, Ares.”

I sucked in a sharp breath, hands automatically tightening on Hebe’s shoulders. I stared at them, silent, and watched as their faces slipped and dropped and shattered; Hebe’s tears spilled over like they’d been threatening to numerous times that night, and Eileithyia raised her hands to grip my forearm, bruisingly tight. Finally, I snapped out of my stupor, and moved my arms to cradle Hebe’s face and start wiping at her tears, trying to shush her. Her tears burned my fingers, and I was careful not to touch the ichor beading on her lip.

“Hey, hey, I won’t die, I won’t die, it’s okay,” I said desperately, hardly believing the words. It was hard to, after having seen a dozen shrouds burned and my nephew fade into mist and the last of the Hecatoncheires nearly succumb to his own death. It was just… difficult to ignore, no matter how hard I tried.

Listen. I have always been familiar with death; the Keres have been familiar faces since my first battle, Thanathos as good a friend as any I’ve ever had, the mortals I trained and led to battle most often felled by blades and disease. Death had never been secret to me, never as unfamiliar as to most of my Family; I bathed in blood, I danced with corpses, I played with mortality. I entrenched myself in death by my very nature and domains, by how I mingled with mortal soldiers. Athena controlled battles from the general’s tent, the Twins sowed disease with arrows, Hermes led souls to their final destination — but I was up and personal with nearly every Death deity in the Pantheon. I have always been familiar with death.

But that never could have prepared me for the way my mortal body decayed and fell apart around me every second I spent in it.

I could feel it dying around me, constantly. At least when it was injury that plagued me, it was easy to rationalize and take care of — I’d been stabbed, so I was bleeding, so I was dying, so I needed to be patched up and heal. It was easy and predictable and temporary.

But mortal bodies are eternally, constantly on a trek into Thanatos’s arms, and I had never realized how accurate that was until I had been confined to my own. I was alive, so I was dying, and it was something I couldn’t ignore. It was always there, in the back of my mind, the way my skin was flaking, my muscles tore, my organs deteriorated.

And that was just my body while resting. Injured? It was so much worse.

Every drop of blood lost, every bone cracked, every bruise formed, I could feel, and I could feel my body attempt to stitch itself together for days, weeks, months afterwards. I couldn’t even help it along with nectar and ambrosia. I was weak, and squishy, and made of glass next to demigods, let alone gods. But my fight-addled mind never seemed to get the memo, tossing my body in the line of fire and pushing through injuries as though Hebe could draw me a bath afterwards, shake her head at me, and swipe a sponge over already-healed wounds.

But she couldn’t. Because those wounds would kill me, and I hated being afraid of facing Thanatos or the Keres, but I was.

And we were headed into war against Kronos. How could I promise my Sisters that I wouldn’t die, when that was the sole purpose of the body I was trapped in?

“I’ll– I’ll be okay.” My voice cracked, throat tight. Hebe let out a choked sob and dove forward to hug me around the waist, harshly shoving her face into my chest. Eileithyia followed, though she wrapped her arms around my shoulders. I clung to them back, repeating the assurance as though saying it more would make it true, as though I wasn’t a powerless mortal child, unseen by the Fates if not for my past.

I would not put it past Them to let me die as penance for my existence, and the only reason I would begrudge them for it would be forcing my Family to grieve, the few that would.

The first rays of Apollo’s beloved chariot spilled between the leaves. We were out of time.

[euporie-art]

benbaro.... sigh....

[angerygoomba]

btw ive never stopped being the idiot of the world

[paleode-ology]

silly norwegian show got me full body sobbing at 10pm,,,,,, get me out of here

[thelaurenshippen]

watching bridgerton and obviously there were a lot of things wrong with the way socializing has worked in the past, but honestly the idea of a "calling hour" is so appealing. office hours for friendship. you can show up unannounced at my home between 1 and 3pm. you must leave by 3pm. I may give you a pastry. lets bring that back

[hinamie]

in spite of everything, I had fun <3

[nabexis]

So like. Did anyone else notice that Jayce doesn't immediately shoot Viktor? He only powers his hammer on AFTER Viktor has opened his eyes. Below is Jayce's reaction to seeing Viktor (his Viktor, from his universe, not the future version of him) for the first time after walking into the dome. For the first time in months. That's like. A look of wonder. Almost reverence.

Assuming the Jinx/Rictus/Vander fight is cut to real-time after Jayce has gone into the dome, he's staring at Viktor for like. 5 minutes.

My interpretation here, of Jayce's expression just before Viktor finally opens his eyes to see Jayce in the room with him, he's committing Viktor to memory, before he has to kill him.

Edit: I almost missed it but like. HE IS SMILING For like 2 frames it's an outright smile. He leans in towards him, too. I cannot handle this.

[ofswordsandpens]

its funny because Percy has been spiraling ever since pjo and whenever he has a particularly bad episode you have other characters actively worried about it and you think to yourself surely they're going to intervene, surely someone is going to talk to him about it, and then like no one ever does lol

[marzghost]

Ok so I know my two cents in the situation concerning skizz may not matter since I'm not trans but I still wanted to get this out there because if I'm being honest I hate how everything is going down right now. I am genderfluid so I can't say that him not saying trans rights didn't hurt a bit at the time but I got over it fairly quickly maybe because I feel like he's right in that he's shown that he supports the LGBTQ+ community time and time again by his actions or maybe because he'd worked so hard to create a place where people could be kind to each other and forget the harsh realities of our world and society. As much as we want our existence not to be "political" or "polarizing" the truth of the matter is that it is when it sure as fuck shouldn't be. I'm a hispanic afab genderfluid pansexual living in the USA south and the truth of the matter is that most 40+ year olds that support us don't even go as far to show their support like Skizz does. The fact that some of the fandom is calling to boycott him is just absolutely insane to me because why are you going to go out of your way to hurt someone who is a disabled ally, and yes he is disabled since he suffers from MS, and has expressed his fear over and over again about not making enough money for his family if he went full time content creator? He recently became a full-time content creator and just hit 200k subs on his main channel. You have a right to be mad, we all do, but to try and use tactics that are meant to be used on big time companies and such on someone like Skizzleman is absurd. By that logic Scar and other bigger more popular hermits should be boycotted because they love Disney and talk about Harry Potter. You can't pick and choose who you turn a blind eye too just because they're more popular or less known. If I'm not wrong Skizz lives in a red state so yeah he's a cis white male giving him more wiggle room than most but you guys have to realize he does have a family he has to protect and provide for. Skizz does not care what people think of him. He says this on multiple occasions but he sure as hell cares about his family and like it or not people have been killed for saying they support us.

As for the situation with his mods, we have to understand that those types of things take time. He's had those mods for a while with one being on his team for five years if I remember correctly, please correct me if I'm wrong, and can't be replaced overnight not to mention by now they're probably somewhat seen as friends. I don't think they've ever brought up their beliefs inside of streams or videos so maybe I'm crazy but I don't think that should be held against Skizz. He haired them to do a job and they did it pretty well despite their whack ass political beliefs. Yeah obviously he should fire them but damn give it a month or something don't go straight too killing the man before he can learn!

[aroaceleovaldez]

the dynamic of demigods thinking which other demigod is the most powerful is always amusing to me because. like, we know the big 3 kids are all the most powerful. That's just a fact of their universe. And then we know nearly every character views Percy as the strongest demigod, and most people are very rightfully intimidated by him.

and you look at the powers of the Big 3 kids and there's Percy, but then you realize Nico is just kind of objectively more powerful than him but simply chooses to hang out in Percy's shadow like he's Percy's scary dog privileges. Like, the two of them are pretty equally capable of causing multiple different apocalypses. Nico just also has like four different instakill powers and it's not like he doesn't use them. He very much uses them! Not infrequently, even! And they don't seem to take a significant amount of energy from him! And other demigods are pretty intimidated by both of them! But Nico makes a conscious point to keep his cards close to his chest and not let on exactly how dangerous and scary he can be if he wants to. People are already scared enough of him without knowing anything about him and he doesn't like that. Percy doesn't think about that nearly as much, and so usually just goes in guns blazing and that's part of why he's considered a wildcard. And then Nico himself puts Percy on a pedestal, so those who do know more about Nico's abilities then presume Nico knows something they don't about Percy that implies Percy is even stronger than him.

And even on a meta level Nico's narrative role requires him to be functionally more powerful than Percy, because he very often serves the purpose of getting Percy out of situations he can't handle on his own. That's just part of his function as a character! But also narratively he can't overshadow Percy so he just takes a backseat of his own accord and that's very amusing to me.

[krysmcscience]

It’s finally done, guys – five whole pages of Narilamb AU comic AND MORE be upon you! (If you have trouble reading any of the text, view the full-size! These pages are huge!)

Yeesh, this took forever. <:)

There’s probably a ton of inconsistencies and anatomy/perspective wonkeries, but this was mostly just comic practice, so Oh Hekkin Well, Lol <:D

(Yes, I am aware the Gateway’s door isn’t present in the Afterlife, and the actual way in is just a pentagram portal. Yes, I put the door in there anyway because Artistic License, i.e. it felt more impactful for there to be a prison door of sorts to walk through to freedom, rather than just a bland boring portal on the ground. 😠)

anyway, i hate backgrounds so much lmao

Alternate ending and a buttload of bonus art under the cut, followed by goofy AU rambles and headcanon stuff:

I’m calling it the Revival AU. It’s not all that creative a title, and someone else has probably used it already, but I am too lazy to really care, LOL

Alternate ending page, which you will Definitely need to view the full-size for, Whoopsie Daisy:

The alternate ending was actually the first ending I finished things off with, because I had a brief badbrain moment where I forgot the emotional beat I initially wanted the comic to end on, and I tend to write comedy, anyway. I later remembered and drew out the proper ending, but I preserved and finished this one, too, because it still makes me giggle.

They had to go back for the followers off-screen in the AU’s real ending. And by ‘they’ I mean just the Lamb, because they weren’t about to ask three newly freed cats to go back into what used to be their prison. The Lamb DID spend some time watching Narinder and the bois enjoying the outdoors first, though:

In other news, here’s the Lamb and me making fun of my anatomy-drawing ‘skills’:

Meanwhile, if you’re wondering why the Lamb is just a-okay with how things went down vis a vis Their Murder, this bonus comic should answer at least some of your questions:

Ah, yes, also this is how they get engaged outside of the alternate ending. Forgot to mention that bit. XD (I already refuse to believe that Narinder is capable of flirting normally, so why would his initial marriage proposal be any better???)

Oh, and before any of them get a chance to actually head back to the cult grounds, there is one potential problem:

And by ‘problem’ I mean something Narinder intends to ignore for At Minimum a thousand years. Cuz he’s a petty bitch like that. :D

what do you mean i drew the lamb too tall compared to the background? clearly they’re standing on top of baal and aym lmao, why else would you think those two aren’t in this one??? (aym and baal got way too excited about finally being outside, you see, and their silly modes are nothing to sneeze at)

And, speaking of heading back to the cult grounds, I’m sure y’all would love to know how the Lamb’s followers felt about the brand new change in management:

It all went better than expected. <:D Tiny ramble now, feel free to skip down to the next comic.

Before you ask, no, the Lamb does not have any actual powers anymore, other than the immortality Narinder definitely grants them. The Red Crown just thinks it’s funny to suggest otherwise, and Narinder does nothing to discourage this. Also, the Lamb and Narinder aren’t actually married here yet, but, uh. Pretty safe to say that particular ritual directly follows the events of this comic. XD

Given how quickly he mellows out in canon, Narinder probably chills out a lot in this AU once he’s in charge of the cult, too, if only because 1.) He’s finally free, and 2.) He’s equally smitten with and distracted by the Lamb. He’s definitely in charge at least 95% of the time, though, because the Lamb never actually wanted to be a cult leader and, now that their time as a vessel is done, they just want to be a normal(ish) sheep who’s wholly devoted to their hot new divine husband.

Some followers do still have some valid concerns about these two being together, though, which I’m sure at least a few of you might share…

Unfortunately for any such concerns, the Lamb is a bonafide masochist in this AU. :D

They’re also 100% a sub, obviously

Anyone at all: Your relationship is problematic and potentially toxic

The Lamb: fuck yeah it is, it’s so hot~ OuO

Here’s just the last panel, made transparent for whatever nefarious purposes y’all might have for it:

Additional exchange Narinder and the Lamb have at some point, probably after the Lamb does a fatal whoopsie while out on a mission trip or in response to things getting a little too sadistic in the bedroom, ahaha:

Look, there is a very important distinction between life and death, and if you don’t understand that, then you’re probably not worthy of being the God of Death, anyway. (At least, according to Narinder, and ONLY Narinder.)

Last but not least, have these shittens:

~Such creative naming conventions I have utilized, lololol~ :D Anyway, there's a few deets on them in the rambles down below.

The rest is all ramble, so before I get to that, I’ll just say – likes and especially reblogs are very much appreciated!!! :D If you happen to really really REALLY like my stuff, meanwhile, I do have a link in my bio to my ko-fi page, where I’m accepting commissions and donations if you’re especially generous… ÓuÒ

Now, BE FREE IF YOU AIN’T DOWN FOR READING MY GOOFY RAMBLES

First ramble is re: Baal’s question of ‘Did it really work?’, since I didn’t feel like expanding on it in the comic proper, and it’s arguably pretty vague? He doesn’t ask because he doubts Narinder or his capabilities, exactly, but because neither Baal nor Aym have ever actually seen their god at full power before (he’s still technically not at full power here, either). It’s not expressly stated how soon the brothers were brought to Narinder after his imprisonment, but whether it was early on or after a length of time for Shamura to (somewhat) recover from his attack, he must have already been weakened, since I have no doubts that there was a huge battle that accompanied the Bishops working together to trap him. So, between that fight with all four of his siblings, sharing his power with a variety of vessels over time, and being chained immobile for a thousand years, he must have been severely weakened by the time he lent the Red Crown out to the Lamb, which would have only weakened him further.

I like to think this is how the Lamb is able to defeat him if they refuse to be sacrificed, despite how it took all four Bishops working together to subdue and chain Narinder in the first place.

All that aside, the three cats have been trapped in the Afterlife for so long that Baal also wanted verbal reassurance that they are all, indeed, actually able to leave it now – something that I headcanon isn’t possible without a significant amount of power (i.e. the Red Crown’s cooperation with its bearer/vessel).

(On a semi-related note, I don’t headcanon Aym and Baal as twins. I like sweetheart big bro Baal and snarky little goth bro Aym too much to have them be that close in age.)

Ah, teeny thing: If you noticed I switched up the art style for Narinder on the second page, that was intentional. It's sort of a visual indicator that there has been a Big Change for him - that being, how much power he has after sacrificing the Lamb. As for why I changed up his arms in the grass rollin' pic, I don't really subscribe to the notion that his arms are spooky bones because they're horrifically injured (beyond chain-chafing scars, that is), but rather just because he's the Bishop of Death, so he can change how normal-to-spooky they look at will. At some point I might doodle out how I imagine his appearance to range between least to most eldritch... 🤔

Next ramble, regarding Narinder’s feelings towards the Lamb...he was initially too focused on being freed from his imprisonment to form any real attachment to them. They were a tool for his use, first and foremost, but he did notice their intense devotion towards him. It was impossible not to notice, because the Lamb was always very happy to see him, even if it was because they died during a crusade (yet again). He wasn’t originally planning to revive them once he was freed, either, because he saw no real point to it – after all, they were already dead when they first met him, just as any other mortal would be when meeting him in the Afterlife, so death has very little real consequence in his eyes. But, once the chains were off, and it really sank in that he stood to lose the most devoted follower he’s ever had, he decided…why put their soul to rest for good or leave them stuck in the Afterlife when he could just as easily revive them again? And why not reward them for their hard work, anyway? Not only would it cost him nothing by comparison, but the future devotion that could come of it would surely make up for his (bare minimum) effort in reviving them.

He wasn’t expecting to get a full dose of that devotion and a smiling face so soon after killing them, though~ :3c (because the Lamb is a bonafide freak, and not-so-secretly into the fucked up power dynamics going on here, lol)

I should mention here that I am firmly of the belief that any non-god/vessel who crosses through the Gateway and into the Afterlife just straight up dies. So, Aym and Baal? Also straight up dead, from the second Shamura brought them through. Their souls were just never put to rest so that Narinder could have some company – if only according to Shamura. Narinder kept the two around mostly out of bewilderment, because honestly, who are these kittens, and what is Shamura’s game here, anyway??? They never even explained anything, they just tossed these kittens into the Afterlife and LEFT!!! At any rate, Aym and Baal being dead is how I explain why their souls apparently become lost in the void if they’re killed, along with the added complications required to revive the two because of it.

So, with those deets in mind, and given a bit of time, if Narinder hadn’t chosen to revive the Lamb, and also hadn’t chosen to put their soul to rest, they still would have woken up at some point, despite being as straight up dead as Aym and Baal. Who, don’t worry, were also properly revived while Narinder was waiting for the Lamb to wake up. Because I am also firmly of the belief that, first, the dead cannot leave the Afterlife without the use of a ritual/relic (and can't stay in the living world for long regardless), and second, dead followers’ devotion isn’t anywhere near as potent as that of the living, given how much more the living stand to lose.

Final ramble, regarding the Lamb’s feelings towards Narinder, and why they’re so devoted to him…

Well, you don’t spend most of your life on the run with your steadily-dwindling herd, trying to evade the ongoing genocide of your species, without becoming a little fucked up in the head. Maybe a lot fucked up in the head. Life is suffering, so might as well have fun with it, right? Maybe start finding death and pain to be kind of hilarious, even a little bit hot, once everyone you know and love is dead and gone, leaving you all alone? And maybe after that, there’s something comforting in how, despite the cold, cruel uncertainties of life, at least you can always count on the inevitability of death, patiently waiting for you until your very last breath? Who knows. Either way, as soon as the Lamb was killed, and they learned that the literal God of Death was offering them a second chance at life and vengeance via effective immortality, they were 100% ride-or-die-devoted all at once. Turns out death is kinder than life – go figure. (Of course, it helps that Narinder is 100% their type.)

They weren’t put off by Narinder’s thinly-veiled sadism or manipulations, either – they’re not too different in those regards, albeit opting for vastly different methods. It’s a very ‘two sides of the same coin’ sort of deal. In order to stay alive once they were made the last of their kind, the Lamb had no qualms with using others to their advantage, and that did not change once they were revived and expected to run a cult. They didn’t care for the position of authority, though – being a sheep and all, they’re much more of a follower than a leader, and thus greatly appreciated Narinder’s need for control. With how they had to keep on their toes for so long, the Lamb was also pretty good at reading people by the time they died, so they could recognize that a lot of Narinder’s posturing was just that – posturing. Dude’s 95% bluster and only 5% bite. He could obviously be vicious when he wanted or needed to (the Bishops' injuries were clear proof of that), but underneath his outer layer of cruelty was a generous layer of tsundere, and underneath all THAT was a soft squishy middle sibling velcro cat in desperate need of attention and affection.

(Which, for the record, he Did Not feel comfortable getting from Aym and Baal – Narinder still has no idea why the fuck Shamura sent them to him, beyond acting as keepers at best or trying to sabotage his attempts to escape at worst. Which, he thought HE sabotaged in turn, by guiding the kittens into being his devoted disciples instead. He thought he was very clever for it. ‘I outsmarted Shamura!’ he thought, despite that there was never anything there to outsmart. ‘What do you mean, Shamura sent your kittens to me for company?’ he demands of Forneus later. It may or may not lead him to pull Shamura out of Purgatory just so he can shake them and scream about how they should have Fucking Explained that!!!)

But, getting back on track as to why the Lamb was so willing to be sacrificed, I cannot stress this enough – if you pay even a minimal amount of attention to what he’s saying, Narinder is REALLY NOT SUBTLE about his intentions. ‘Death is of little consequence.’ ‘Followers are for you to use to your advantage.’ ‘Sacrifice a follower to absorb more power.’ So, yeah, the Lamb knew exactly what would be expected of them once the other Bishops were dead. They knew Narinder would expect them to die for him one last time. But, after all, death is of little consequence (not to mention hot), so when the time came, they wanted to see him freed, even if it meant oblivion for them in the end.

He’d given them a second life, and the ability to avenge their kin, and they felt indebted to him for that – so, while they were still pretty glum about the possibility that they might not get to see him free of his chains, nothing beyond their devotion and debt to him mattered. They never wanted all the drama and expectations that came with the Red Crown’s power, anyway, so, better for Narinder to have it back so that he could deal with it. What he did with the Lamb afterward would be up to him, and seeing as he was their god, they’d accept his decision gladly.

Were they in love with him by that point? Oh, obsessively so, but only in the devotional sense – romance was nowhere on their mind nor radar. That is, until he unexpectedly revived them again, told them he still needed them, and then offered down his hand to help them up.

The Lamb fell HARD for him in that moment. :3c

And now, a tiny shitten ramble. Lu and Li are twins, because sheep tend to have those a lot, and are conceived not long after the Lamb and Narinder’s marriage ceremony. Lu is the minutes older one, but Li is much more mature. I have put no further thought into these two, other than that they are utter menaces, birthed by the Lamb, cling hard to both their parents but especially Narinder (who spoils them rotten), and they are both genderfluid, using whichever pronouns/names they feel like at any given time. They are also both intersex, same as the Lamb, who was initially infertile up until Something Something Vague Magic, which I have also put no further thought into ¯\_(シ)_/¯

oh, and before anyone tries to suggest i headcanon this AU’s lamb as trending more female due to them giving birth or whatever, no, no, a thousand times no, they might have a vag, but they've also got a dick, and even if it's not as big as they'd like, they still know how to use it

Finally, the very tentative name for the Lamb in this AU is Yazdi, which is really just another name for the Baluchi breed of sheep XD (Not that the Lamb is this specific breed, I just didn’t like any of the other sheep-related names I found, ahaha...)

THAT’S ALL FOR NOW (collapses into an exhausted pile of goopy limbs)

[joyfulhottubfuntik]

There's something in the fact that Stan, the unwanted and "extra" twin, the one who Filbrick was disappointed in and who he disowned, was also the one to inherit so much from his father.

It's his daily attire, both the suit and the fez, his jokes, his ways of treating children and "teaching" them, even his name, really. Because "Stan" was the nickname their father originally used for both of the twins. Ford chose to stop using it, Stan didn't.

And it's also interesting that most of these things were originally meant for Ford, who didn't have much of an appreciation for them. And that's what I'm fascinated with: the "favourite", the golden child, the pride of the family, didn't seem to care that much for his father, or at least clearly not as much as Stan, the disappointment and the outcast, did.

[hallwayheart]

honestly sims 4 just feels like it's running a marathon desperate to implement all these unique features that the previous games had Because EA is so hungry for money & ts4 is it's ever-lasting cash cow. that ea either fails to realise (or doesnt care..) that what we really want is just a life simulator...yes its cool and fun to have werewolves, vampires, fairies, etc. but girl my sim cant push a baby in a stroller. girl my sims cant have physical disabilities. girl my sims cant be representative of EVERY real life group of people & EVERY long-living culture. they cant even go grocery shopping.

yes these are all different aspects of life Some clearly more important to implement than others But they're all real, and i just sit and think to myself that EA doesn't want to make a life simulator game At all they want to make a twisted version of sims 2 & 3 because whoever is sat at the table of EA looked at the success of sims 2 and sims 3 and Saw the wacky charm, the innuendos and the popularity of it among younger people and just...did not age with their audience. They went down this weird, cartoonised, PG route Like their advertising is so goofy, quirky, weird. the game itself has such a strange utopian feel to it that it's almost dystopian but not in the ts2, uncanny valley, Dead end street of gothic suburbia and 'something is off here' vibe It went THE OTHER direction where it just has this dead, brainless feel to it. like there's no substance. Like dead mobile games. and the thing is it genuinely wouldn't be hard for EA to do a full 180 and say okay we hear you, then take more time to focus on each pack, re-fresh other packs, make quality of life improvements to existing gameplay features and bug features but yeah Money money money. the desperate, capitalistic approach EA takes to making this game is the most real thing about it.

[uncanny-tranny]

I think it would really benefit people to internalize that mental illnesses are often chronic and not acute. Some of us will never be able to jump the hurdle of managing illness, much less sustaining a sense of normalcy. Many of us will never "recover," will never manage symptoms, will never even come close to appearing normal - and this is for any condition, even the ones labeled as "simple" disorders or "easy-to-manage" disorders.

It isn't a failure if you cannot manage your symptoms. It isn't a moral failure, and you aren't an awful person. You are human. There's only so much you can do before recognizing that you cannot lift the world. Give yourself the space to be ill because, functionally, you are.

[themoderatespeaks]

America needs MAX PARTICIPATION for the economic blackout this Friday. This thing is snowballing fast because so many reasons are popping up for why people are doing it (including some "what it's really about" lists). A short list:

-inflation/the egg thing

-protesting the trend of corporations getting bigger and richer and more powerful while normal people are finding it harder and harder to keep up with the cost of living

-protesting corporations who heard Trump say diversity is out and went "Oh thank God" and immediately dropped (sorry, "didn't renew") their DEI policies, their support for the LGBTQ+ community, all of it

-protesting consumerism/huge corporations in general

-Trump giving a giant chainsaw of power to Musk and they are literally having fun with it

-the giant, reckless cuts Trump is making in general

-Jon Schwarz started a grassroots movement for government accountability and corporate reform and is going to make a million bucks this week selling Tshirts of his Blackout Tour

-moderate Republicans, Trump leavers, and even Trump supporters are starting to realize that Trump needs reining in from every angle possible because wow.

IT DOESN'T MATTER, at least not on Friday. The point is that the energy this has gathered is part of a wider pool of protests, boycotts, spending freezes, etc. that are gathering steam fast. And that's a good thing, because this Friday, Feb 28th, has become a productive, nonviolent flashpoint. There is so much anger and fear building right now in America and this is a good, healthy way for it to emerge. But if participation is too spotty, it will lead to absolutely nothing.

So please, less gatekeeping and more welcoming. Honestly, for the sake of max participation, if even one of these reasons matter to you, or matters to people that you care about, please participate.

Tl;dr: What is Friday really about? It's about momentum. Please, participate.

[ladystoneshart]

seriously when I first started reading asoiaf i really wasn't expecting the only couples I'd get invested in would be the most popular ship in the fandom (which happens to be a blond on blonde HETEROSEXUAL beauty and the beast enemies to lovers ass couple) and the toxic old men yaoi where the men aren't even that old but I caught myself GIGGLING at both braime and stavos while reading asos that's never happened before

I'm having to outsource my lesbians from the prequel show dawg look at the sad state of the world...