#this one took a lot out of me

[storms-path]

FFXIV Write 2024: Day 9 - Lend an Ear

This deep in the Noumenon, footsteps carried far. Even the gentle pattering of the mammet which had guided Stalwart down the winding corridors rang out through the hallways. Still, Stalwart found herself so engrossed in the musty tome she’d cracked open that she only noticed the familiar footsteps of one Y’shtola Rhul moments before she rounded the corner. No mammet guided her, Stalwart noted with a frown. Had she traced her way here through the residual aether? Either way, Stalwart was not particularly in the mood for company. Perhaps she could take this tome elsewhere and-

“Stalwart!” Y’shtola’s face split into a rare smile as she waved.

Stalwart forced a smile of her own. “Y’shtola. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Y’shtola hesitated, apparently lost for words. She glanced at the mammet, judging it safely out of earshot. “I won’t mince words.” A dark shadow passed over Y’shtola’s face. Her ears were flat against her head, her tail swishing slowly. She looked… afraid. Unusual indeed for one so composed. Just what was she about to say?

“I fear I have fallen in love with you.”

Ah. There it was. The conversation Stalwart had intended to avoid. She had realised, of course. It had been harder and harder to play off Y’shtola’s advances as anything but romantic overtures. But still, she’d hoped for a little more time. A little more preparation. A little more… “I see.” A cowardly response, but the best she could manage. She couldn’t find the words to describe the roiling, churning feeling in her gut.

Y’shtola was clearly not impressed, but she let the silence cut deeper and deeper until Stalwart finally broke it again. “I don’t know what to say. I’m sorry, I didn’t want to have this conversation at all, but…”

“Do you feel the same?” Y’shtola’s voice was calm, almost matter-of-fact. If it weren’t for the quiver. If it weren’t for the hammering of her heart. If it weren’t for a thousand other tremors and nerves and fears. She couldn’t see Stalwart’s face, only the impression of it, but her posture was that of a cornered beast. Without realising it, Y’shtola had backed Stalwart against one of the shelves. They were close now, so close.

“I…” Stalwart couldn’t look at Y’shtola, couldn’t bear the look on her face. Don’t make me do this. “Yes. But.” Say it. “We can’t. I can’t.”

Y’shtola knew it was coming, but she couldn’t do a thing about the floor falling out from under her heart. “I thought as much.” An effort of will kept her tone even and calm. A strong one, at that. “I understand. Thank you for being honest with me.” She stepped back, turned to leave. A hand on her wrist stopped her.

“Wait.” Stalwart didn’t know why she’d reached out. She didn’t know why she spoke. But she had. And the words spilled out. “I want to, truly I do! You’re kind, you’re intelligent beyond measure, you’re absolutely terrifying when you want to be. Who wouldn’t fall in love with such a woman? But I…”

Y’shtola smiled, pretending not to notice the quivering of Stalwart’s hand. “I understand, Stalwart. It’s alright. Thancred told me about your devotion to Haurchefant. He was a lucky man, to win your heart so.” Not that it didn’t rankle, to lose to a dead man, but-

“What? No. That’s not it.” Thancred? What did he know about any of this? “Yes, Haurchefant’s death hurts, more than I can put into words. But that’s not why I can’t do this!” Stalwart’s voice was rising higher with every word. Thankfully none could hear them, this far down. Except for a mammet bound to silence. “It’s you!”

Y’shtola wasn’t prepared for that. Confusion draped over her already whirling emotions. A heady and unpleasant mixture. “Me? What do you mean?”

Did she truly not understand? “How many times have you leapt into the jaws of death, ‘Shtola? How many times have I had to mourn you, only for you to re-appear as if nothing’s wrong? How many years have you burned off your life already, simply because you’re too proud to admit that you’ve been robbed of your sight? Have you given any, any consideration to how I feel? How much it hurts to have to keep losing you? How I’ve had to harden my heart against the very idea of loving you, just to spare myself the inevitable hurt when you don’t come back?” She was crying now. The dam of emotions had finally burst, drowning her in them. Forcing the words she’d held back for so long out of her. The anger. The fear. The sheer, absolute exhaustion of it all. Y’shtola was silent, clearly stunned. Good. Let her chew on that for a time, instead of coming up with another cutting remark.

“Hypocrite.”

A single word, cutting more than any snide comment. Fury rose in Stalwart, fists balling and shoulders tensing in a single moment.

Y’shtola wouldn’t be cowed by the larger woman. “Do you truly think I do not fear for you, whenever you and your companions ride off to face some existential threat?” Were she able to truly see, she’d find herself blinded by tears. But Stalwart’s form being taken aback by her words was as clear as it always was. “Every time, every time, I find myself praying to the Twelve that you return to us safely! And my heart prepares itself for the fact that you may not! Being able to finally face a Primal with you was more of a relief than I dare give words to! And less we forget, you rushed in to face oblivion with Urianger and I without a second thought in Ultima Thule!”

“Because I couldn’t bear to live without you!” The words were out before Stalwart could stop them. This time it was Y’shtola’s turn to be taken aback. “I knew that Arashi would need me, I knew that she would struggle to face Meteion alone, and I didn’t care! Because a world where I had to watch another person I loved with all my heart die wasn’t one I could stand to live in!”

Silence reigned for a spell, broken only by tears splashing against cold marble floor. Stalwart’s tome lay abandoned on the floor. The mammet was torn between its duty and breaking the icy quiet. Then, at last, Y’shtola took a step forward.

“We truly are a pair of fools, aren’t we?”

“Yes. We are.” Stalwart likewise stepped closer. “I… I don’t know if I can do this, ‘Shtola. I don’t want to hurt again.”

“But you will.” Y’sthola’s voice was as matter-of-fact as if she was discussing the weather. “I’m older than you, and burning my life away, as you say. One day, sooner or later, you will lose me.” She took another step forward. “Or I’ll lose you. I’m prepared to accept that, if it means we can try making something worthwhile out of our feelings.” Are you? She wasn’t brave enough to give voice to the words. Not yet.

Stalwart hesitated at the crossroads of her life. She had rushed into love with Haurchefant, let it envelop her, embrace her, blind her with its brilliant passion, and then rip out her heart without warning. She couldn’t do it again. But gods, she wanted to. So badly that it hurt. And then there were Haurchefant’s last sentiments, in the Lifestream. He had known. He had given her his blessing.

“Three rules.” Stalwart couldn’t stop the shake in her voice. “Firstly, you promise me that you don’t throw yourself into the Lifestream the moment things look dire. Second,” she jabbed a finger at Y’shtola to stress the point, “You let yourself be vulnerable and drop your aethersight every once in a while.”

“Agreed,” said Y’shtola without even waiting to hear the third rule. It was the most certain she’d felt in years.

“And thirdly,” Stalwart continued as if she hadn’t heard Y’shtola’s all-too-ready agreement. “Thirdly… Don’t call me Stalwart. That name… isn’t really mine, not any more.” It was time to let go of the childhood hero that had guided a young Steely Hart towards self-discovery. “Only one other person has heard this name before you. I told him as he lay dying. My name, the name I’ve so badly wanted to say…” She couldn’t do it. She couldn’t say it. The moment she tried, she leapt back to the Vault, to the walkway, to Haurchefant’s cold, cold body. It was a mistake, all of it, she should never have-

A warm hand took hers. Y’shtola looked at her with a warm, soft smile. “I’ll wait, if you need me to. Take your time.”

A gentle hand rested on her shoulder, just for a moment. A breath of hot chocolate, perfectly heated, tickled her nose. A ghost of a smile danced in front of her.

“Tender Star.” She breathed it, more than said it, finally letting the name out. “That’s my name. Call me by that.” Y’shtola was closer than before now, but Tender didn’t want to run any more. Without really thinking about it, she looped an arm around Y’shtola’s waist, suddenly hungry for her warmth. Y’shtola stretched up to reach Tender’s lips. Their first kiss was witnessed only by a mammet, currently awakening to a great deal of things it would later be able to describe as “emotions.”

After an eternity, Y’shtola pulled away. Her smile was starlight, her eyes shining with unshed tears. “Tender Star,” she whispered, and all was right with the world.

[something-tofightfor]

.

First draft of Competing For Christmas 8 is done. 

It’s 11.6k, and it definitely needs some editing - but it’s coming this week. 

[inkskinned]

having good & true friends will literally save and protect you in a million unfathomable ways. like okay we have written so many times about lovers. but the way a platonic friend laughs and cries with you. the way they hold your hand at 14 years old and at 34. the way they keep a little silver tie to you, touching base over and over and over. how you can go years without talking, only to re-meet and discover: oh shit! you're still cool!

there are people who have been in my life for more than half of it, and i have loved every version of them. do you know how fucking beautiful that is. yeah love will save the world. but the way friends love you is gonna save the you.

[hinamie]

unconditionally

[starry-bi-sky]

I am loudly pushing the batdad agenda i am loudly pushing the— DPxDC Prompt

“Woah. You look like shit."

Granted, that’s probably not the first thing Danny should be saying to the guy that just bit the curb, but in his defense; he’s not running on 100% right now either.

The man -- tall, towering, and broader than Danny is tall -- whips around on his heel, black frayed cape flaring out impressively. Danny would've whistled in appreciation, but he takes the time instead to wipe the back of his hand across his mouth, smearing the blood running from his nose across his cheek.

"Sorry." He blinks widely, not even flinching as the man with the horns zeroes in on him. "That was rude of me. I have a really bad brain-to-mouth filter; Sam says its what always gets me into trouble."

And she's not wrong either, per say. His smart mouth is what landed him in this situation -- with blood blossom extract running through his veins and cannibalizing the ectoplasm in his bloodstream. Thanks Vlad.

The man grunts at him; a short, curt "hm" that shouldn't make Danny smile, but he does because he's somewhat delirious and probably concussed. The man keeps some kind of distance, sinking towards the shadows of Gotham's alleyway like he dares to melt right into it.

If it's supposed to scare Danny, it doesn't work. Danny's never been afraid of the dark; he's always been able to hide himself in it. He blinks slowly at the mass of shadows.

"You look hurt." The shadows says, blurring together around the edges. Danny squints, and licks his lips to get the blood dripping down his chin off. Ugh, he hates the taste of blood.

"I am." He says, "My godfather poisoned me. M'dying." The agony of the blood blossom eating him from the inside out looped back around to numbing a while ago, so all he feels is half-awake and dazed.

"Hey," Danny stumbles forward towards the man, a bloodied hand reaching out to him. "You-- you're a hero, right? You're not attacking me; which is more than I can say for most costumed people I've met." Maybe it's a poor bar to judge someone at, but he's already established that Danny's not in his right mind.

The man makes no change in expression, but Danny realizes blearily that it's hard to tell with the shadows on his face. He stays still long enough for Danny to latch onto the cape -- stretchy, but almost soft under his fingers.

He looks up blearily into the whites of the man's eyes. "Can you help me? I don't-- I don't wanna die." Again. He doesn't wanna die again. He blinks slow and lizard-like. "I mean- I'll probably get to see mom and dad again, but I told them I'd at least try and make it to adulthood."

There's a clatter down the street, and Danny's ghost sense chills up his spine and leaves a bitter, ashy taste in his mouth. He immediately knows who it belongs to even before the deceptively gentle; "Daniel?" echoes down the way.

"Daniel? Quit your games, badger, Gotham is dangerous for children."

Danny's mouth pulls back, and blood spills against his tongue. "Please." He rasps, and grabs onto the shadow's cape with both hands. "Please. He's going to kill me. Please--"

"Daniel? Is that you?"

His lips part, dragging in air to plead with the darkness again. He doesn't need to, the whites of his eyes narrow, and the cape whirls around him before Danny can blink. Soon swaddled in shadows, the Night lifts him up, and steals him away.

[professorcalculusstanaccount]

the most anticipated comic from this blog: White Boy Goes Dancing (follows directly from this)

Everyone's been sending me asks for this! I have a second part to this planned for the future. Watch this space!

[viarayy01-blog]

whatever you choose to be

[reds-skull]

Both me and price looking at that pic of them sleeping: do it for them...

(This was supposed to be like. 2 panels rip)

[bookalicent]

yeah so this was insane

[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)

[mienar]

stillness in these waking hours

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[hinamie]

close again and closer still

[yuviur]

Summer vacation, 4am.

Tons of easter eggs in this one! Click the image to find them (and for better quality ofc)

Close ups and process shots under the cut, description in alt text

[killjoy-prince]

House M.D. but it's when Wilson says House's name

[benevolenterrancy]

May your hardened heart be woken By the soft and distant song Of all you left here unspoken All the shards we keep stepping on - Take this body home Take this body home Call the wind, and let her know Take this life outgrown Take this broken soul Call the stars, call them all And take it high, take it far, take it home

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Welcome to the Dungeons of Fear and Hunger.