#achilles is typing...

[derelictheretic]

Small update for those commissioning me at the moment my sibling is in the hospital so I can't work on anything today and probably tomorrow, thank you for your understanding!

[derelictdumbass]

My physical copy of Sacred Bodies just came in, I am so excited aaaaaaa !!!!!! My queer indie graphic novel collection grows 😤💕💕💕

[sandpapersandwich]

Adding on to the previous post: each protagonist's fighting style reflects their respective mentor character

Zagreus can tank a lot of hits, dashes into battle with little to no plan, just generally relying on brute force. Very similar to Achilles

Melinoe is calculated, taking shots where she can, focusing on maneuvering and taking occasional heavier shots. Again very similar to how Odysseus fought

I'm sorry I'm being a total fucking dweeb, I just think the story telling is cool

[lyculuscaelus]

I just realized that if y’all are picturing the Iliad with historically accurate armor, specifically, with the ones similar to the Dendra panoply, then Hector would not die the way he died.

During the duel, Hector was wearing Achilles’s old armor, which means it’s a Mycenaean panoply, and the most famous one looks like this:

As you can see, the neck is well protected by the cuirass, so the thing about Achilles finding Hector’s open throat exposed thus stabbing him through the neck—that’s not gonna happen. Achilles would not be aiming for his throat for this reason, with this outcome.

Such a historical Hector would not die an Iliadic death.

[moeblob]

Does anyone remember when I would draw Glenn being a lil shit to his dad? Anyone?

[koroart]

Look at how young and bright they are — boutta traumatize both of them soon ✨

Young Lambrigue for my Pacific Rim AU! I’ll draw them when they’re old….eventually ( tomorrow )

In case it’s hard to read, their Jaeger’s name is Llŷr Aegis! ✨

[justvea18]

I couldn't physically call Achilles and Patroclus boyfriends or lovers because their bond is something SO MUCH MORE than just that and I don't think we have the word for it. The closest I can think of is "Soulmates" and yet I don't think that's enough. They're so urgh that they can be platonic or romantic

[brainrotcharacters]

The silly thing about associating Deadpool and Wolverine with Patroclus and Achilles is that if the Greek gays had regeneration and nigh-immortality, they wouldn't have reached peak tragedy

[lady-forest]

I'm so in love with loving you

[derelictheretic]

Mutuals my beloveds it's the ockiss time again like this post or comment if I can draw our oc's smoochin'

[derelictdumbass]

my hair is harley quinn and deadpool mode :D

[melodyartist]

on your last art in the pic where meneody are talking these tiny pieces in the background they're sooo cute!! I've been zooming them to take a closer look and just staring at them for idk five minutes probably

they're pretty!!

Here you can see them more clearly👉👈 🥸

[spineless-lobster]

Patrochilles mood is hitting me HARD tonight lads I need them to be real I have to talk to them I have to hug them why can’t I hold their hands and frolic with them why must the world be a cruel place?

[alexnamuu]

A conversation between Diomedes and Odysseus that I imagine they had at the beginning of the Trojan War, when they were getting to know each other:

— Well, well, if it isn't the youngest King who ruled Argos that this council of war has ever heard of! The disciple with the silver eyes blessed by Athena, the war cry that terrifies the enemies! — The man's melodious voice pulled Diomedes back to reality. The young king had to hold back an irritated sigh that he would let escape his lips showing his discomfort at having someone close to him.

It wasn't a good day, in fact, since he stepped onto the Trojan lands and instructed his men to start setting up camp, he had never had a good day. Diomedes was used to the patterns of war, the dried blood under his nails, the bruises his enemies were lucky enough to inflict, the calluses forming on his already rough hand, he should stop by the medical tent and see if he could get some blister cream or something, he would do that later.

— It is good to see you again, King of Ithaca— He made no effort to look at the man who sat beside him, his gaze continued to focus on the fire. He expected peace and quiet, but it seemed like Lady Athena wouldn't give it to him anytime soon.

—You were splendid on the battlefield today, a true veteran, far more experienced than any of us— He had been warned about the ruler of Ithaca having a sweet tongue to persuade any man to get what he wanted. This made Diomedes shiver just for being a target of this "get what he wants by any means necessary" guy.

—That's right, thank you— He didn't know how to respond to flattery, maybe that's why he fell for so few. The King (His name was Odysseus, from what he remembered) didn't seem to be bothered by this fact.

— Yes, a real standout, I would say, with my audacity, that you would only lose to Achilles! Or you could even surpass him.

— Be careful with your words, Laertiades — Achilles' sharp voice cut through the silence, it seemed that the Best of the Greeks would rather be somewhere else, but Patroclus, his friend and healer (maybe something more) seemed very happy to enjoy the campfire and chat with Ajax the Great, who was Achilles' cousin, and at the beginning of the war, Peliades didn't seem to want to be away from his closest friend— Or you will be without your precious tongue.

— Don't be so skittish, Peliades, it was just a foolish comparison, forgive me — He made sure to emphasize — But you were still magnificent, young Diomedes.

— Do you need something from me, Leartiades? — Diomedes didn't like mind games where he had to put his wits to work and try to decipher dirty tricks, not after a long day. He would prefer the silence and not having to talk for the rest of the night. So anything that would make Odysseus move away, he would be happy.

— Straightforward, isn't it? — Odysseus didn't seem to mind, staring at the helmet still in Diomedes' lap. — I need a favor from you, something small, nothing extravagant.

— I don't do favors — The young King said — Much less for strangers.

— Come on, we are war companions now and the same Goddess guides us, I think we are not so strange after all — The warm touch of Odysseus's palm came into contact with the skin of Diomedes's arm, a friendly, innocent touch, nothing more than a form of bargaining. But for Diomedes that was like a burning coal, the field reflexes came into action and he slapped the other's hand away from his arm. The most serious expression now on his indifferent face.

— Don't touch me, Laertiades — The young king's voice was low, threatening — And I already said, I don't do favors for strangers, much less those who have very big tongues and words that flatter too much.

Diomedes stood up with his helmet in his hands, putting on the piece that completed his armor, his eyes staring at Odysseus with cold indifference — Do not look for me to demand favors, King of Ithaca, from what I hear, you seem eager to get back to your wife and son.

Diomedes heard a provocative whistle, perhaps it had come from the mouth of the sweet Patroclus who was known for his good heart, but had his attractions for a good fight. He decided to ignore it.

— Gentlemen — He said in farewell, starting to walk towards his own camp. With luck, that would have been the only and last interaction with Odysseus and he would only need to see the man in meetings and on the battlefield.

The distant hoot of an owl was his doubt and likely his condemnation of what would come from then on. Odysseus' sweet tongue would still convince him of many things.

[junaofaulis]

he loved dogs and horses and hunting with the myrmidons and looked like nestor and paid no attention to his hair and didn't even lose his pleasant manner in battle and

[kit-williams]

No Longer You

The next part in the Legion Mother Lost in the Warp Series. One of his prophetic sons comes to the Iron Lord with worrying news while the Iron Mother receives worrying news as well.

Male Lead: Perturabo Female Lead: Penelope Song on repeat: Epic the Musical - No Longer You Cw: Song fic, pov switching

@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy

@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog

Perturabo went over her words again and again and again in his mind... his mind churning so much that his body destabilizes and he felt anger flare up at how worked up he was getting over a possible warp ghost or worse yet a trick. He buried that part of himself... buried all these emotions tied to her when he burned Olympia... when he killed Calliphone... when he needed her tender heart to hold back his wrath... a wrath that ultimately was tainted by his grief. His breaking down after Olympia was just as much of him mourning her death in equal measure to his regret bubbling up. Would she have agreed? Perturabo wonders as maybe she could have stayed his hand upon his sister... upon Olympia... he knows for a fact that he wouldn't have followed Horus as long as he did... Nelly wouldn't have let him.

Ajax was one of the few things he could hold over his brothers of something he had and they did not... hindsight either paints his thoughts or gives him insight into how certain brothers of his had grown far too interested in Penelope once she was carrying Ajax... and many of them had turned traitor. Perturabo pauses in his tinkering as he lets ancient thoughts return to the surface as he wonders.... what she would have said to get him to stop following Horus, if he ever started to follow him in the first place. He blames himself for her death, he called her to Olympia when he caught wind that the corpse that was once his Father and the frail Malcador had expressed interest in meeting Ajax... catching wind in wanting to summon her to Terra without him. Once more Perturabo lets his thoughts wander... what would have happened... anxiety flairs inside his gut at the brief thought of sieging the imperial palace and not knowing where she was... or even if Father would keep her alive for that long.

He exhales, his nostrils flaring like a grox-bull's, as he focuses on melding the metal in his hands; Ferrus was always better at making the metal into surprisingly delicate shapes... when he wanted to. Perturabo looks at the metal in his clawed hands as it is another shell... to replace the one that had fallen into disrepair from his neglect over the millennia. A rare smile flutters across the lord of Iron's face as he looks at the iridescent metal shell. His eyes flick over to a screen as there was a rare thing... someone that was not one of his warsmiths was requesting an audience... His tongue moves over the fangs in his mouth, reminding him of his brothers Leman and Konrad with their fanged maws, as he thinks and looks at who dares seek an audience with him. One of his Sorcerer sons... Tiresias Korpanos... the Korpanos were a rare set of psyker twins that had survived the trials of the Iron Warriors, Perturabo remembers telling Magnus of his sons and how excited the Sorcerer king had gotten. Psyker twins were always more powerful together but he remembers that the twins willingly separated as his brother... Morpheus went with Penelope.

Though Tiresias had grown wildly eccentric in the millennia that had followed their damnation. His nose wrinkled at the thought of dealing with this gibbering sorcerer or at worst would be speaking in vague poetics. He was feeling nostalgic today as he could remember Nelly listening to the prophets poetics with baited breath and always trying to decipher what they mean or the look in her eyes when she realized some portion of the vision had come true. He could stomach Morpheus' presence and she liked Tiresias but alas their loyalties were not to be... it must have been nostalgia guiding him as he accepted the request.

Penelope looked away from the curly haired Ajax in her lap shoving a bright yellow toy into his mouth as Antioch had told her of his reservations to allow Morpheus Korpanos to see her. He insisted his reservations were only as Morpheus was uncertain of the message he was delivering and as Antioch passed along it was 'vague and ominous'.

"Well, I am not Perturabo who only demands certainty." Penelope said before kissing the young Iron heir as she handed him to one of her handmaidens.

"His message sounds like it comes from a hermit oracle." Captain Antioch said.

"Pity then as I enjoy the old stories," Penelope smiled as she sat in her seat with learned authority, "I will see my son Antioch."

"Yes Legion Mother."

Tiresias twitched at unseen shadows in unreality as they were simply the immaterial tendrils of his genesire drawing far too close for comfort. The Lord of Iron looked at him with a loathsome look in his glowing eyes that flicked between a fiery orange to the icy blue that his eyes were in life. Perturabo was as deadly as any warp predator and perhaps even more so. His genesire simply gestured and so Tiresias began, "I am the prophet with the answers you seek," Perturabo frowns at that, "I see past and future running free... there is a world where I help her get home... but that's not a world I know."

"What?" Perturabo's voice was harsh as he did not like the oracle like delivery but Tiresias was tied to the warp and he remembers how Magnus explained that sometimes delivery would sometimes be roundabout.

"I see a song of past romance," Tiresias said louder and more confidently, "I see the sacrifice of man!" His voice swelled, "I see portrayals of betrayals," There was pain in his voice, "And a brother's final stand..."

"I see you on the brink of death," Morpheus says somberly, "I see you draw your final breath," he says as if in pain from what he sees or feels, "I see a man who gets to make it home alive," His conviction returns, "But it's no longer him."

Penelope sits there surrounded by her iron honor guard as there is concern on her face as she looks at Morpheus. She could see why Antioch was so displeased with Morpheus' revelations. Antioch clenched his jaw at the revelations made as it was his and his brother's duty to guard the Iron Mother, even more so now given what Lord Guilliman had told him about the Lord of Iron.

"I see your palace covered in red... Faces of men who long believed you dead..."

Tiresias voice was quiet and fearful for the next part of his vision would surely displease his genesire, "I see your wife with a man who is haunting," The room became painfully silent as he could see the immaterium condense into a point, it was as if Perturabo had pulled his entire demonic being back into this room and focused his entire being onto Tiresias, "A man with a trail of bodies..."

"Ẃ̸̠̞̆͑H̷̳̩̻͚̀͒͋O̷͇̾͂?"

Perturabo bellowed as the Lord of Iron was done with this game. His claws reached out into the aether and grabbed a part of his soul.

The twins screamed out in utter agony as they could feel their souls being pulled back from their form... they were being ripped open slowly. Antioch and the rest of the maternal guard sprang into action as he gathered Penelope into his arms and rushing her out of the room and away from the potentially unstable psyker; Tiresias could feel his twin and still chose to bear the brunt of what their genesire was doing. The warp began to bend like metal and crack like glass and yet as the Primarch pushed and from what his brain could interpret... it liquified around Perturabo. They could feel the burning of claws sinking into their souls and the burning pressure of his gaze on their souls and the writhed in agony. But, Perturabo finally got to what he was looking for and was assaulted with images that Tiresias had seen but was unable to directly say.

~A song of past romance...~ Violet eyes looked into his own icy blue eyes... Fulgrim in all of his depraved glory grinning at him as in two of his arms he cradled a broken body like a perversion of a lover as he drank the soul right out of the defiled thing... perverse pleasure and so much pain came from the writhing mutilated thing in his arms... Perturabo felt something sick gather in his chest as it looked like Curze had gotten a hold of it... gotten a hold of her as it she reached out to him with a broken, bloody, mutilated hand... all the while Fulgrim was slowly drinking her soul away leaving poisoned and acid filled kisses on ruined skin... that gloating look in those violet eyes as he ripped his eyes away to meet the thing's gaze in his brothers arms... it was Penelope.

The vision mercifully shifted... ~ the sacrifice of man... ~ Roboute stood in front of Penelope as she was holding Ajax in her arms, his brother looked so tired yet there was a hopefulness in his eyes. He could tell years dragged by in this vision and he watched how over this vision of twenty years how the Lady of Iron's heraldry was replaced... the yellows, blacks, and iron colors were slowly replaced piece by piece with gold, white, and blue... the Iron Warrior heraldry replaced with the omega. The sad look in her eyes as Perturabo glanced seeing Ajax shift from an infant to a man... her hair with streaks of grey as Roboute returned to the forefront and he watched his brother drag touches against her skin. Gestures becoming far too intimate as he cupped the side of her face and once more the warp around him became sharp and angry as he watched Robute trail kisses from her ear to her-

Perturabo felt rage. Perhaps a fraction of what he was told of the rage that Sanguinius carried. How dare Roboute touch his wife... his Penelope... his Nelly! How dare he raise his son! As his form churned the vision blurred... ~ portrayals of betrayals... ~ His anger became frozen as once more his gaze met the dull eyed gaze of the corpse of his wife. Her outfit stained red as she laid in a pool of blood. Perturabo looked up seeing Magnus looking down at Ajax in his arms as the cyclops' gaze returned to the body and there was a look of pity and sadness for a moment before he vanished in a whirl of magic.

Before he could finish processing it his icy blue eyes met forest green eyes... Lion's eyes... ~ and a brother's final stand. ~ He glowered at Perturabo as his sword was held to the side, blood dripping from the blade... and by the blade tip curled protectively around a bloody body... Distress crawled over the Primarch as not only in this vision his wife was dead but also his son... Despair and anger fills him as he watches a phantom version of himself charge the "eldest" Primarch...

"Morpheus!" Penelope cried out.

Perturabo exhaled once more hearing her voice, his eyes darting to the tether that linked the twin souls and as much as he could use it to appear to her to be there once again... Perturabo removed his claws from their souls. The Lord of Iron needed time to prepare... time to prepare a place for her... to prepare to bring his wife home. The twins collapsed as blood wept from their eyes and noses. Tiresias took the brunt on his soul gaining new mutations as his left hand was clawed and he could feel a mouth press against the body glove under his right arm. Morpheus was relatively unscathed minus his teeth all being sharp and the new eye on his right cheek... but those could be taken care of.

Captain Antioch walked over to the entrance of the Librarium as Brother Chaplain Achilles walked out, a sigh leaving the vox on the skull helm. "He continues to say disturbing things Brother Captain," He paused for a moment looking at the hard gaze that Antioch was giving him, "things about the Legion Mother's survival... things about Father. Antioch how much stock do you put into his vision?"

Antioch looked at the grim specter that was Chaplain Achilles, "Father is a monster now. As far as I am concerned we are all that is left of the legion."

Achilles hummed, "Lady Penelope is adamant that she spoke with Father. To a pitying degree..."

They were silent for a moment, "There are creatures that can mimic voices," He says knowing what to tell the Iron Mother in her inevitable desperate plea, "we must get her to safety."

"Agreed. She and Ajax must survive lest the morale of our brothers crumble." Achilles tone is firm as a decision has been made.

Castor watched the protective shielding peel back with a thunk as layer upon layer revealed more and more of the starlit void as they left the warp. Olympia floated in the distance... still a dead world thanks to the Primarch of the Dark Angels. But, he was not here to be sentimental about home no he was here for something else. Screens and images flickered to life as in the green light the Gloriana was brought into view. The Iron Amarantos draped in the heraldry of the Iron Warriors and in the unique heraldry to denote that it was the Iron Mother. For the veterans it was as if they were looking into a time capsule, for the Amarantos was a flower compared to the brutal ships they were use to... it was a piece of art.

Castor grinned at ship on his display as he felt as giddy as a Scout again. The memories of the Legion Mother were still clear in his mind as her warm smile was a balm... she was the heart and the hearth of the legion and he felt joy that she was still alive! The ship shifted to high alert as the Amarantos' defenses kicked in as their machine spirits were probing and starting their attacks to cripple them... already locking on to their position but they had the proper codes to feed to the ornery spirit and assuage its demands.

Father had demanded that confrontation was off the table... and rightfully so given there was around five thousand Iron Warriors aboard the vessel and countless security measures all handmade by Father to protect Mother. Castor had to approach this situation delicately but he could not deny the desire to see Mother dearly... to feel her warmth again... the feeling of her hand on his head... and the softness of her voice. He missed the warmth of the iron hearth and would not fail Father.