#I would have rather lost all the speeches than any of the songs

[zaunitelabs]

Can I request dating headcanons for Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Silco, and Ekko with gender neutral s/o please?

Arcane Headcanons - Dating

Characters: Vander, Jayce, Viktor, Silco, Ekko

TW: none

Have fun!! Request are still open btw🫶‼️

.-.

Vander

Veryyyy gentle lover

A very soft spoken partner, loves to call you pet names

Words of affirmation are probably his form of showing affection

He’s not super touchy in public. It’s not that he doesn’t like physical touch, the opposite actually, he finds it sacred. In public he’ll only grab your hand, maybe caress your arm

When it’s just the two of you however, he cannot keep his hands to himself. You are in the kitchen? He’s hanging around like a lost dog behind you. You are reading a book? He’ll make you cuddle with him while you read

Vander would be incredibly protective of you, always making sure you are safe and well taken care of, but he’d do so in a calm and gentle way

He’s tough, but he never wants to make you feel small or incapable

SUCHHHH an old school loverboy. He’d be the type to open doors for you or ensure you never walk on the outer side of the sidewalk

Vander would prefer spending quiet nights together rather than going out. Whether it’s cuddling by the fire, cooking together, or just talking

Jayce

SOOOOOO needy

Love language is definitely physical touch, he cannot keep his hands off of you. From holding hands, cuddles, caresses, everything and anything that transmits his warmth to you

A terrible cook, not for lack of trying, but rather because he never has had the time to practice. Even so he tries to make you breakfast every chance he gets before he goes to the lab

His favourite way to unwind after work is to cuddle with you, his head on your lap or shoulder as you caress his hair as he rambles about his day

He loves to show you off at events. His hand never leaves your side, and if it ever for some reason happen his eyes would never leave your presence

As someone who values innovation and progress, Jayce would be incredibly supportive of his your ambitions, encouraging them to chase your dreams, no matter how big or small

He would prefer to separate his work like from his love life, opting to keep his lover away from the lab. He does however secretly enjoy whenever you pop in for a quick visit

Would try to make your life easier with the help of his inventions in any way he could. Known for loosing track of time? Jayce’s got it covered and will have an artifact to help you made in no time

Though he appears to be fairly stern and commanding, he’s the biggest sweetheart. He’s acts like a puppy in love when he’s with you, like the good boy he is

Viktor

A very reserved lover

While not the most physically affectionate, he makes his love to you known through actions. Always making two coffees, always grabbing a sweet treat on his way home to share after work, always bringing your scarf along if it’s cold outside

He isn’t overly expressive with words, but his actions speak volumes. He might not shower you with grand romantic speeches, but his presence and the way he looks at you convey his deep feelings. His physical affection could be soft but sincere, like holding your hand or brushing your hair out of your face

Cherishes and enjoys the quite moments he gets to spend with his partner like reading together

Will only go to fancy events if his partner wants to go with him. If he were to go alone he’d drink enough to be sent back home within an hour of the event starting, on purpose of course

Will remember all of the ‘insignificant’ stuff you have ever said. You like calico cats? Noted. Your favourite hobby as a kid? oh yeah he remembers. The song playing when you two had your first date? Constantly plays in the back of his head whenever he needs to cool down at work

Viktor doesn’t have time for drama or playing games in relationships. What you see is what you get, and he values honesty and directness

Just like Jayce, Viktor would encourage his partner and their dreams, doing everything he cans to help them accomplish them

While he might get absorbed in his scientific pursuits, Viktor would also make sure to carve out time for you. However, he might get a bit distracted when talking about his work, so you’ll have to find ways to balance both his love for invention and his affection for you

Silco

The most jealous out of the bunch. He cherishes his partner as though they were something sacred. In his eyes no one could ever be worthy to be in your presence

Possessive, but (surprisingly) not in a toxic way. In public his hand would be glued to yours, or placed around your lower back. He needs to make it known that you are with him

Would give you the whole world if you’d ask him to. Once Silco is committed to you, his loyalty is unwavering. He doesn’t believe in half-measures or distractions, and his devotion to you would be total. You’d always have his trust and allegiance, no matter what

While Silco isn’t one to shower you with words of affection, when he does speak, it’s sincere and impactful. His "I love you" would come less often but carry more weight. He’d show his love through the way he holds you—firm, unyielding, and always with the promise of safety.

With that being said his favourite way to address his partner would be by calling you ‘my love’ . No matter if it’s in public or in the privacy of your home, he’d proudly call you my love any chance he got

In moments of intimacy, Silco would be raw and intense, showing you a side of him that's often hidden from everyone else. His passion would be undeniable, and it would come with a fire that burns deep and leaves you feeling wanted and cherished in ways that few could match

Silco would start his mornings by making you coffee or tea just the way you like it. You’d rather have something else? He’ll move hell and earth to get it to you. Even on the most hectic of days, he’d take the time to make sure your first sip of the day is perfect, and he’d enjoy sitting with you in comfortable silence while you both wake up together

While Silco can be intense, he'd also show a lighter side through playful teasing. He’d make subtle remarks that get you to laugh, his way of showing affection through humor. He’d love seeing you smile, and sometimes he’d tease you just to make you blush

Sometimes, Silco would take you out for a quiet night under the stars, away from the noise of the city. There, he’d just sit with you, enjoying the calm and silence of the night, maybe even offering a rare, soft conversation about things he never talks about with anyone else. It’s a peaceful intimacy between the two of you that he cherishes

Ekko

The most emotionally vulnerable one. He’d go to great lengths to show you just how much he cares about you

Ekko might not be the smoothest with words, but he’d give you the sweetest, most sincere compliments. He’d tell you that you’re the most incredible person he knows, and he wouldn’t just say it to make you smile—he means it from the bottom of his heart

Love language would definitely be acts of service, doing his best at helping you out whenever he’s around

You’d be his favourite muse, always drawing you in his spare time and never forgetting all of the tiny details and stories that your skin has to share

When the world goes quiet, Ekko would enjoy staying up late with you, talking about everything and anything. From big dreams to small, funny moments, you’d get lost in conversations, and he’d listen with genuine interest, always making you feel like you matter

Whether it’s fixing up something around the house or building a project together, Ekko would love to get his hands dirty with you. He’d enjoy the teamwork aspect, and it’d be a bonding experience where you both get to learn and laugh together as you create something meaningful

Even when Ekko is busy with his own projects, he’d make sure you always feel like the most important person in the room. Whether it’s sending a quick message just to check in or looking up from his work to give you a smile, he’d make sure you know that you’re never far from his thoughts

Ekko would be the type to share his vulnerabilities with you late at night when everything’s calm. He might not be the most openly nostalgic, but with you, he feels safe enough to talk about his deepest fears, his past, and his dreams for the future. In these moments, he’d be incredibly honest, leaning on you for comfort as you listen intently, creating a quiet but powerful bond between you both

If you were ever feeling down, Ekko’s touch would be gentle but reassuring. He’d hold you close, running his fingers through your hair or gently cupping your face as he looks into your eyes. He wouldn’t need to say much; his soft presence and the way he holds you would be enough to make you feel safe and loved, as if you were the only person who matters in that moment

[feeeeeeeeeesh]

Corvus Corax and the Raven Guards: addressing some common misconceptions and lore [Part I]

Translator's note: This is a translation of a meta essay written by 沈某 in Chinese, originally posted on Jan 2024. The original can be found here, and I have OP's permission to translate and repost this here. The author can also be found on RedNote here. Any further translator’s notes and additions from me will be in purple. There is a second part coming up. The link will be added here once it's done.

Author's note: The characterisation of Corax and his Raven Guards in the canon novels and storyline is quite unique, which leads to the fandom having misconceptions about them. This is not an accusation of any kind, I too was mislead by some of Corax’s actions, but as I learnt more about them I realised there is a lot of contrast in the way they’re characterised, so here I am trying to voice some of my thoughts.

A brief summary

Corax is a depressed goth literature bro

Corax is withdrawn and has a gothic aesthetic, but he is neither depressed nor a literature bro.

2. Corax is a socialist, he is approachable, against class stratification, and promotes freedom

There can’t be any socialists in the Warhammer setting, Corax is against the oppression of the lower class, not the existence of class itself.

3. Corax is a naive baby that got manipulated by the evil tyrannical Emperor

Corax is not naive and stupid, he clearly understands the morality of the Emperor’s actions. He is willing to sacrifice everything for the Emperor’s vision of humanity, and believes that is the reason he was created. The Emperor also trusts Corax completely.

He is also not a hypocrite who serves a tyrant despite his hatred for tyrants. Once again the setting must be considered; Corax’s definition of tyranny is based on abuse of power rather than simply authoritarianism.

4. Corax hates Curze, and looks down on him

Curze thinks everyone hate him, so Corax must hate him too. Before the Heresy Corax did not much of an opinion on anything besides of the Emperor and the Imperium.

5. The original Terran Raven Guards does not obey Corax; he treats them poorly, and discard them when they are no longer useful

Even the Terran Raven Guards that were sent away on independent missions respects Corax greatly. He has already given all his sons enough support and opportunity, and only most obstinate ones died at Gate Forty-Two, and this also pained him greatly.

1. Corax is a depressed goth literature bro

This is a misconception brought about by TTS (If the Emperor had Text-to-Speech Device). TTS itself is a great parody fanwork but many characters that appear in there differs greatly from canon. As many people were introduced to WH through TTS, so it’s expected that there would be misconceptions.

But to be honest, other than the gothic aesthetic, none of the other points there! Are canon!

Corax never said he enjoyed poetry, reading or writing books, he only mentioned in Deliverance Lost that, once the war is over and he retires, he will write a book, and the book will explain the political philosophies he learnt as a child.

“He was a commander, not a governor, and if he had no more battles to fight, he could have happily spent his remaining years, however many hundreds or perhaps thousands that might be, in comfortable retirement; perhaps compiling a treatise on the political lessons he had learned from his mentors on Lycaeus.”

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 6

This is not the same as an author writing a novel, he just wanted to share what he learnt in the form of writing, and it is not stemmed from a love of literature and creation. Another thing is Corax’s final line “nevermore”, which is a reference to The Raven by Edgar Allen Poe, but it’s just a reference, and does not mean that Corax loves poetry.

“His mentors on Lycaeus had taught him of poetry, of rhyme and metre and cadence, but he had never quite been able to see the appeal. Poems reminded him too much of the work-songs the prisoners had invented to keep up their spirits while they had hewn with pick and laser drill at the unforgiving stone of the penal colony. The last three lines left Corax feeling disquieted, though, as if the Emperor had suspected that his Imperium could not endure any more than the great empires of mankind’s long history.”

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 7

This is Corax’s reaction upon seeing poetry written by the Emperor. He didn’t have much thought or emotion in response. He saw the poetry and was reminded of songs he heard before, that’s it.

I interpreted this passage slightly differently, but regardless, there is no canon evidence that Corax liked poetry.

If he had the time, he would’ve better spent it making new equipment for his sons

Shortly after his rise to Captain's rank, Kayvaan Shrike won the Contest of Shadows, a bicentennial trial of stealth and ingenuity. In victory, he was permitted to select any item from the Ravenspire's vaults, his to wield in the Emperor's service until his last breath. Such has ever been a generous prize, for Corax often laboured at the forge in the days after Isstvan V, seeking through the sweat of his brow to replenish an armoury so sorely denuded by the treachery of Horus and the unkindness of fate. Indeed, there even now remain many weapons crafted at the Primarch's hands which have yet to gleam in the flames of war, and it may yet be that many never will, save for in that last striving that one day comes to all warriors, where the enemy presses close and one final stand must be made before all slips into shadow.

Raven Guard Codex 8th edition, p.39

Corax busy making equipment for his sons as seen in the Codex

Also, he is not depressed not depressed not depressed, he really does not have depression. His natural tendency is to stay hidden in the dark, he is more comfortable like that, but he knows that others around him need him to appear sometimes, so when he’s not hiding he’s doing work, and when he does hide it’s more like he can’t be bothered pretending anymore.

Trigger warning: suicidal ideation, as appeared in canon

He did exhibit something similar to suicidal tendencies in Weregeld

“It was a mistake,’ he whispered, still kneeling with the Wolf King cradled close to his chest. ‘We were a mistake, brother, I know that now. I see it for myself, in my own blundering. I see it in the eyes of the mistakes I created, just as surely as the Emperor sees it in ours. There is no sense of guilt, only good intentions gone bad.”

Weregeld, Chapter 4

But this isn’t like the usual tendency of someone in great pain who is seeking an end to their suffering, he simply thought that primarchs are a mistake, so his existence as a primarch is wrong, and he should fix it by dying in battle.

His sudden change of mind was because he felt his duty has not ended so he can’t die yet.

TW over

Corax is a withdrawn man with a gothic aesthetic, and if he is truly mad he would not be bothered speak to anyone, but he’s not depressed and definitely not a literature bro.

2. Corax is a socialist, he is approachable, against class stratification, and promotes freedom

This is a bit more complicated to explain, but in Warhammer, human society hasn’t even reached the capitalism stage. All human worlds, no matter how good the living conditions, are still feudal societies with slavery. With that mind, there really can’t be any socialists.

And if we take a closer look, Corax is actually against slavers mistreating their slaves, the upper class wielding power without respecting each individual’s personal worth, and those who take pleasure in causing suffering. He is not against the idea and existence of class itself.

That much Corvus had understood, even if Manrus had spelled it out in no uncertain terms that such political imprisonment was immoral. To remove one’s enemies made sense to Corvus, especially if they could be turned to a more profitable endeavour. It was the condemnation of the families that Corvus had not fully understood. Again, he could perhaps justify the imprisonment of those related to the first agitators and demagogues, because there would be grounds to suspect a criminal’s beliefs might be shared by those around him. What stretched Corvus’s comprehension was the continued internment of those born and raised in the mines.

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 4

Corax can understand punishing dissenters and making them work in mines, but he thinks the prisoners’ descendants should not be responsible for the crimes of their ancestors.

If only it were that simple,’ said Corax. He had not worked out anything, simply remembered it. The Emperor had never attempted to create what Corax sought, and so there was no base of knowledge for him to recall. ‘That still leaves you with seventy-two different gene-strands to analyse.’ ‘A moment, please,’ said Orlandriaz, laying his hand on Corax’s arm as the primarch turned away. Corax glanced down in annoyance at the magos’s clutching fingers, noticing that the tech-priest’s fingernails looked to be made of a dull bronze. Realising his error, Nexin took his hand away and nodded his head in apology.

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 11

Corax has class consciousness; he values the individual worths of his subordinates, so he encourages free thinking and for people to voice their opinions, however not everyone can speak to him as casually as his sons.

The leaders of the Legion remnants assembled by Corax were a mix of line officers and sergeants for the most part, the odd lieutenant amongst them – warriors of higher rank tended to have been closer to their primarchs at the outset of the civil war. Seated around a long table brought into the grand hall for the assembly, they looked at the primarch with a mixture of hope, wariness and awe. He did not stand up, preferring not to overwhelm the delegates with his physical presence. For the same reason, he had not donned his armour but was dressed in a simple bodysuit of light grey beneath a long charcoal-coloured coat. Like the throne upon which he sat, the clothes had been made for him as a token of favour of Naima by Scaratoan craftsmen and women. It had been a long time, over two years Terran-standard, since he had worn much else other than his armour. He had wondered what it would be like, fearing that perhaps he would feel underdressed, but in fact it allowed him to think more like a civil leader than a general.

Ravenlord, Chapter 5

He opted for a plain appearance as to not imitate others so they could speak properly.

‘A thousand disparate pieces, each of purpose and value, brought together under the control of a single mind,’ said Corax. ‘We shall be the same. A machine, an organism. Of many parts working separately, but invisibly, silently bound by common purpose and thought. I do not ask you to swear loyalty to me, for there is no greater oath you have sworn than by your deeds in the name of the Emperor. I do not ask you to become Raven Guard, for the blood of other fathers and the customs of other worlds have shaped you. You are each what you are, individual – but together, indivisible, we will be even greater.’

Ravenlord, Chapter 5

3. Corax is a naive baby that got manipulated by the evil tyrannical Emperor

The variant of this I see more on Tumblr is that Corax is a hypocrite who, despite his hatred for tyrants, is still loyal to the Emperor, the biggest tyrant of them all, but I have seen both. While it’s not completely the same, some of the points here also address the issue on how Corax views the Emperor and why he remains loyal.

This is a very important point; Corax is not a naive baby, he is a primarch that grew up on a prison world. While most of his foster parents are political prisoners, it’s still a grim prison world, with prison guards that abuse the prisoners and gangs. While Corax was protected by his foster parents and friends, he still grew up surrounded by death.

Moritat-Prime Kaedes Nex A dark figure of gruesome repute amongst the tightly-knit survivors of Deliverance, Kaedes is seen as an ill-omen by his brothers. On Kiavahr in his youth he was known as the Blood Crow, an infamous murderer condemned to rot on the moon-prison. There he remained, until Corvus Corax offered him freedom and a pardon if he fought alongside the other rebels and limited his targets to those chosen by his new master. After enduring a painful late transformation to a Space Marine, it was only by the continued favour shown to him by Corax that he remained within the ranks of the Raven Guard, with few of his brothers willing to tolerate his macabre obsession with the hunt. Yet, in the grim shadow-wars fought by the Raven Guard in furtherance of the Emperor's grand plan, his murder-honed skills were employed with grim regularity. When the Raven Guard came to Isstvan V, Kaedes came with them, vanishing into the wastes to stalk the Traitors on his own terms. Nothing is recorded of his role in either the retreat from the massacre or the days that followed, and some maintain that not all of the Traitor craft to later leave Isstvan V carried only the followers of Horus, that Kaedes continued his private war in the shadows of the Horus Heresy.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermination, p.280

Kaedes went to prison for murder as a youth, and later, with Corax’s favour, became part of the Moritat, a unit that does the dirty work behind the scenes.

Corvus was half as tall again as the youths around him, and broader by far, but of all those who had met the guerrilla leader Nathian showed almost no fear. The prisoner’s stare matched Corax’s in its intensity. ‘That’s the boon I bring, ain’t it?’ said Nathian. ‘They think I can be trusted. I run the largest smuggling ring on the wing. A few bribes and words here and there will make it a lot easier for you to be moving stuff around, I’d warrant. And I’m no shirker in a fight. I’m dishonest, but I give you my word, for what it’s worth. I want out of this stinking hole as much as any of this lot.’ ‘He knows too much already – a curse on him and his prying,’ said Agapito. ‘Let’s be rid of him. We’ll put the body in the incinerators next shift.’ Nathian sneered, but did not look afraid. ‘No,’ said Corvus. He looked at Nathian closely, and saw the feral danger behind his eyes. A multiple-killer, aged only thirteen. It was not pleasant, but what Corvus had planned would sometimes need men of cold disposition, not just courage. ‘I can use him. Yes, Nathian – I accept your oath. And make no mistake, I will hold you to it.'

Ravenlord, Chapter 14

Nathian became a gang leader at age 13, and followed Corax during the uprising in Deliverance. Corax knew his moral character was not good, but he admires his ability and wants give him guidance, so he accepted him despite complaints from others.

And some voices, disturbing, demented voices that hovered on the edge of memory. He could not recall what they had said, but was left with an uneasy feeling of defiance and distrust.

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 2

Corax actually had high psychic potential, but he doesn’t delve into it or use it on purpose. In Deliverance Lost, the forces of Chaos actually noticed him before he left the incubation pod, and whispered to him, but he ignore it completely.

‘I speak not of you, but the Emperor. What makes his vision of the galaxy any purer than that of Horus, or yours, or the Mechanicum’s? You may have been the weapon the Emperor used against a galaxy of foes, but it was his power that wielded you, unleashed your Legion against those that opposed him.’ Again Corax was forced to think for a moment, to formulate his reply so that a knot of instinct and simple knowing could be unravelled into something more reasoned. ‘The Emperor is all the things he wishes to be. He has been both tyrannical and compassionate, merciless and merciful. But I have seen into him, and I have touched minds with him in a way no other can. And at the core of what others see is a man of humility and wisdom and learning. He is a man driven by the rational. A tyrant craves domination, but the Emperor carries his power like a burden, the responsibility for all of humanity on his shoulders. He is everything he must be, not out of desire, but from duty and necessity.’

Soulforge, Chapter 4

Corax’s retort against the opinion that the Emperor is a tyrant. He is not denying that the Emperor uses some questionable methods and insisting that he is a faultless saint, but rather stating that the Emperor is both cruel and merciful, but he does not desire to rule over everything, but rather view it as a duty.

Corax does not view the Emperor as a tyrant, as he believes the Emperor‘s methods are a means to an end. In his axioms, he defined tyranny as “force without justice”. In a similar vein to his view on class, he is not against the existence of authoritarian rulers itself but rather the abuse of this power to oppress their people. The setting must be considered when interpreting Corax’s political views. There is no hypocrisy in his loyalty to the Emperor because by his definition the Emperor is not a tyrant.

In yet another convergence of great events, it was in the immediate aftermath of the liberation of the prison moon Lycaeus and the opening salvoes of the atomic bombardment of Kiavahr that the Emperor arrived to reclaim his lost son. Unlike events surrounding so many other such meetings however, the Emperor came alone, and the next day left alone. While it is known that the Master of Mankind and the XIX Primarch spoke for long hours, what passed between them remains a matter of conjecture.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermination, p.133

The Emperor taught Corax to nuke Kiavahr after his arrival on Deliverance, and taught him that sacrifice is necessary in order to achieve his ideals.

In Deliverance Lost, the Emperor arrived after the atomic charges have been dropped in Kiavahr. Corax himself was reluctant to drop the bombs, out of consideration for the innocents, but after input from his friends and mentors, he gave the order in the end. Regardless of the order of events, and who prompted him to drop the atomic charges, this shows that Corax is far from innocent and naive.

He had been too focused on rebuilding the Legion and then striking back at Horus to quell the chattering, but now it was time to make certain truths known. Truths that had been revealed to him directly by the Emperor; truths that even now were hinted at in the recesses of his mind where the last memories the Emperor had passed to Corax still dwelt, like shadows at the bottom of a gorge. He trusted Agapito, and had done so since they had first stood together so many decades ago. Though hot-headed of late, he needed to know the nature of the foes they were now facing; all of the Raven Guard deserved that after suffering so much at their hands. ‘There are creatures that live within the warp,’ said Corax. Agapito nodded in understanding and was about to reply but the primarch cut him off. ‘Things not just in the warp but of the warp. The creatures that can consume a ship if its Geller fields fail. The creatures that the Navigators call the empyrean predators, and the Emperor calls daemons.’ Agapito muttered with distaste while a cruel laugh erupted from Vangellin. The other tech-priests listened with interest, seemingly detached from concern. ‘Yes, daemons,’ said Corax. ‘Beings not of flesh but of the stuff of the warp itself.’

Soulforge, Chapter 4

In Soulforge, The Emperor told Corax about the matter of the warp himself.

Also I just needed to say, most of Corax’s appearances are written by Gav Thorpe, but his primarch novel is written by Guy Haley, who made Corax an idealist with weak grip on reality to serve as a foil for Curze’s primarch novel also written by him. This is very different to how Gav writes him, so this book is a bad reference, due to the discrepancies. Of course there are also discrepancies in the parts of the story written by Gav, and I will mention those when they come.

For anyone who would like to know more about Corax, I strongly recommend you start on Deliverance Lost and not his primarch novel, due to the reasons outlined above. In fact, I would recommend looking at all the HH period novels and short stories first and the primarch novel last, if you are going to read it at all.

As mentioned above, Corax understands the dark side of human nature and of the Imperium. Corax knows that in order for the Emperor to protect more people he must do some things that aren’t very freedom and equality. There is always casualties in war, and Corax is against pointlessly throwing away the lives of soldiers, his goal been to achieve victory while minimising losses.

Sacrificing a small fraction of people to achieve victory is the baseline logic of Warhammer, you can’t say that others can do it but Corax isn’t allowed to because he likes peace and freedom.

Basically, everyone is a war criminal. Corax just has more regard for human life than some other war criminals in this franchise.

There’s also a bit of retconning in terms of Corax and the Emperor written by Gav. In the 40k Carcharadon novels, they mentioned that the Emperor gave Corax an artefact called the Void Glass, which can reveal everyone’s true forms. The Void Glass was first given to Corax by the Emperor, and then Corax gave it to the founder of the Carcharodon chapter for keeping.

Tangata Manu shook his head. 'I know the truth now. The Void Father gave the Glass into the keeping of the Forgotten One to take into the Void and keep it there. It was given to us to be lost, not used!’ The Librarian stared at the Void Glass but he said no words.

Carcharodons - Silent Hunters

This conflicts with the original story written by Gav, where Corax is shaken upon learning about his true nature born of the warp, but in essence still hints that Corax knew some secrets of the Emperor and primarch pretty early on, and shows that the Emperor trust him absolutely and believes he is reliable.

With the benefit of hindsight, some have claimed that the Emperor spoke to Corax of things men, even some other Primarchs, were not yet ready to hear; of the truth of those powers that seethe within the Warp and the darkness soon to come.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermination, p.133

Corax understands the Emperor’s thoughts, he agrees with the Emperor’s vision and is willing to give up everything for it.

4. Corax hates Curze, and looks down on him

This point came from Curze’s primarch novel, where he said he thinks all brothers hate him, so Corax must hate him too. But from the description, Corax was shocked at seeing him killing his sons but didn’t really make a comment, however due to Curze’s habitual defensiveness, he interpreted this as Corax humiliating him publicly.

'Brother,' said Corax. 'I come to you without violent intent, but please, explain to me what is going on in this city. His voice was soft like the Night Haunter's, though not as sibilant, and with a more measured tone. Sevatar refused to let it beguile him. The threat Corax made was clear enough.

Corax broke the silence first. 'What is the meaning of this, my brother?' he said, gesturing metre-long claws at the mess of the slain. 'What happened to your warriors?' Unable to help himself, the Night Haunter snarled. He caught it and turned it into a mocking smile, but not before all present had seen his anger. He was a predator challenged by something just as dangerous. For a moment, Konrad Curze exhibited weakness. 'I happened to them, said Curze evenly. Corax looked over the ruined flesh in the room in disbelief. 'What have you done?' Curze smiled blackly. 'An internal dispute, Lord Corax, he said airily. 'A Legion matter, that I have resolved. You must understand, there are many criminals in your Legion also. You have your ways of dealing with those who stray too far from the bounds of good conduct.’ He poked a blade of Mercy through the shattered eye lens of a helm and held it up for Corax to see. ‘This is mine.’ Corax's eyes lingered on the blood staining Curze's chin. ’Then perhaps you could tell me why you are bombarding this already compliant sector?'

Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter, Chapter 6

So here Curze realised some of his sons are bad and deviated from his idealogies. In order to cover up this crime, he decided to bombard a planet that is already compliant. Corax of course cannot accept this as it is a waste of the Imperium’s resources.

'I do not think anything about you,' said Corax. 'Other than the disgust I feel for your methods. Curze shrugged. 'You may join the line of all the others who feel the same. I don't care. I am exactly as the Emperor intended me to be. Are you really any better than I, Corax shadow-skulker? The Eighth are open in our murders. The Nineteenth are assassins. We are all killers. We are brothers in method as well as in blood.’ 'Our way of war is clean, said Corax. Sevatar found his voice annoyingly lugubrious. Such misery. They said he was raised in a prison, and that accounted for his saturnine demeanour. Sevatar wanted to hurl him into the deeps of Nostramo's hives, so he might better learn what lawlessness was. The primarchs were preening fools, self-obsessed, unable to see the truth for their own, aggrandised woes. Curze was lonely in being true to himself. He was a fiend, but at least he was honest. 'No war is clean. All of them come with a price,‘ Curze continued. 'Some are more obvious than others, that is all, and the price must always be paid.’ Curze sighed, shrinking into himself, bored. 'War's reckoning awaits you. Do you wish to know the cost?' Corax's black, unreadable eyes rested on Curze for several seconds. 'I will return to my ship. Stop this bombardment. The conquest is falling behind schedule. We risk turning the population further from the Emperor's light.’

Konrad Curze: The Night Haunter, Chapter 6

Still from Curze’s primarch novel, and from Sevatar’s biased “only Curze is perfect and always correct” perspective. Corax did not refute that he is a tool of the Emperor, and has the same awareness of the fact as Curze, however Curze’s feelings on this matter are more pointed. Curze minds that his father sees him as a tool, but Corax does not.

And also there’s a major problem here, in that there’s a discrepancy in Corax’s characterisation written by Guy Haley. He wrote that Corax said his wars are clean, but this contradicts every other novel about Corax. As mentioned previously, he does have his own specialised units and methods for doing the dirty work, and of course he understands that no war is clean, and that Curze’s fear tactics are a necessity, but should not be overused. Unless of course by “clean” they meant the battlefield is cleaned well afterwards.

So if we look at this passage carefully, what happened is Corax discovered Curze is doing something in secret, so he came to investigate, and realised Curze was killing a bunch of his sons. He didn’t say you can’t do that, but just asked him why, and also I wouldn’t do that if that was me. And to Curze it’s, you’re humiliating me.

Corax’s opinion of Curze was overall pretty positive pre-Heresy. He doesn’t like it when his legion is compared to the Nigh Lords, but it’s the behaviour not the person. No one likes it when people keep comparing you to someone else. Corax doesn’t like the image of “Night Haunter”, but he has nothing against Curze.

The general interpretation of what “Night Haunter” means to Curze in the CN fandom space is quite different to here, due to language structure, naming conventions and probably translation as well.

One characteristic of Corax is that he doesn’t have subjective opinions of individual people, he forms opinions on people based on their behaviour and then react accordingly. Corax dislikes Perturabo, because he saw how Perturabo has little regard for lives lost during his wars; Corax dislikes Horus, because he saw how there is hidden arrogance in Horus’ friendly demeanour, and how he was making things difficult on purpose for Corax’s subordinates. But Corax didn’t have such a reason to dislike Curze. Curze may be difficult to get along with, but he does everything for the Imperium, so to Corax he is a brother, just one with a different style who can be temperamental at times.

EX TENEBRIS Ex Tenebris is a masterwork bolter fitted with an incredibly sophisticated telescopic scope system. Chapter legend has it that the weapon was forged by Corax himself, as a gift for his wayward brother, the Night Haunter. But the Horus Heresy turned the two Primarchs’ Legions against one another, and Ex Tenebris was instead borne into battle by heroes of the Raven Guard.

Raven Guard Codex 8th edition, p. 58

Corax is not the type of person who would actively try and form close relationships with people. He prefers to act alone, and there is usually a clear purpose for his actions. Even for Guilliman whom he does like, it’s only on the level that he has a good impression of him and wants to learn about administration from him. So Corax actually wanting to give a gift to Curze can be interpreted as having a decent opinion of him.

People like saying that Corax likes comparing himself to Curze, but Curze actually does that more, and Corax doesn’t just compare himself to Curze, he also thought about his similarities to Angron. In his eyes they are all primarchs, and whatever flaws the traitor primarchs had he must have too, and that’s what concerned him.

Each of those parts that they put into me, I gave to each of you,’ the Emperor had said. Corax had asked who had put what into the Emperor but he had shaken his head and refused to answer, telling Corax that it was not important anymore. Reunited with his primarchs, he would be whole once again. The Raven Guard’s leader wondered what part of the Emperor had been put into a beast like Angron. He shuddered to think what Horus had promised the World Eater in return for his betrayal of the Emperor. Conquest, no doubt, and glory in battle. Angron had craved these things more than any other primarch, though Corax and his brothers had all been created with a fierce military pride. What else, Corax thought. What do you gain from this rebellion against the Emperor?

Raven’s Flight

‘We have been touched by forces beyond the Emperor’s own design – you know this, brother, as well as I do. No good comes from that which in evil is born, no matter the purpose or cause. I look at Curze and see myself. Do you find Angron in your reflection? How thin is the veneer that keeps us loyal, keeps us civilised? But for chance, it seems, any of us might now have crossed that line. Does the line even exist, or do we simply draw it in front of us as suits our own vanity?’

Weregeld

‘He made us what we are, but I cannot divine his purpose any more,’ said Corax. ‘Do you think we have failed?’ ‘We conquered the galaxy in his name, brother. We brought humanity into the light from the darkness of Old Night. He created us for that purpose and no other.’ ‘The Emperor also created Horus and made him Warmaster,’ countered Corax, unsettled by Dorn’s words. ‘He brought the likes of the Night Haunter into his plans.’ ‘What else could he have done?’ said Dorn. ‘Curze is one of us, though perhaps a victim of circumstances none of us can even imagine. I know better than anyone exactly what he is capable of.’ Corax nodded grimly. ‘The likes of Curze and Angron were broken from the start. You know the ultimate sanction open to the Emperor. He could have–’ Dorn raised a hand before he could finish. ‘I find your doubts disturbing, brother.’ The wrinkles on his forehead deepened further in annoyance as he gazed across the shuttle port, his fists clenched by his sides. ‘It is still the Emperor’s will that mankind become the masters of the galaxy.’

Deliverance Lost, Chapter 7

This part is when Corax and Dorn discuss their brothers in Deliverance Lost. On the surface Dorn seem quite calm, and Corax is very aggressive calling Curze and Angron broken, but that’s because this is after the drop site massacre, and while Dorn knows what they did at Isstvan V, he wasn’t there to witness it.

From Corax’s perspective, the primarchs are tools created by the Emperor, and if a tool rebelled against its master then it’s a failed work, he didn’t meet the Emperor’s expectations so he’s also pretty much failed. So his main point isn’t actually hating Curze or Angron personally, but rather than he should’ve recognised the problem earlier and dealt with it.

5. The original Terran Raven Guards does not obey Corax; he treats them poorly, and discard of them when they are no longer useful

This is a more complicated problem, and we first need to address the story before.

Before Corax’s return, the XIXth legion was managed by Horus. Horus managed the legion for 140 years, but there’s only around 80 years between Corax’s return and the Heresy, so for those legionaries who have served longer than their primarch, it’s expected that they would have different opinions about Corax’s orders. Not just on the issue on experience, they may be older than their gene-father in age.

With that in mind, while there seems to be come conflict between Corax and many Terran Raven Guards, with him sending them away to distant sectors, but there is no novel actually saying Corax hated them and left them to their own devices, instead he gave them enough supplies and trust to let them complete their missions.

Corax knelt beside the body of a Raven Guard, his chestplate rent open, his ribcage splayed. His armour bore the markings of a veteran, one of those that had come from Terra and made Deliverance his new home.

Raven’s Flight

There isn’t a large population on Deliverance for recruitment, so even by the point of the Heresy, most Raven Guards are still Terran recruits. And by this point there isn’t such a large rift between the Terran-born and Deliverance-born; the Terrans see Deliverance as a second home.

The main issue with Corax’s treatment of Terran Raven Guards is at the Battle of Gate Forty-Two. Here Horus was clearly trying to suppress Corax’s influence, because Corax was the only primarch who disliked him before the heresy. Perturabo also took this opportunity to fan the flames, and in the end Russ told Corax he should listen to the Warmaster, as the Warmaster represents the Emperor.

In answer, Perturabo accused Corax of seeking to avoid battle, a crime verging on dereliction for a Primarch of the Legiones Astartes. The two very nearly came to blows, with only the intervention of Leman Russ staying bloodshed. The Wolf King counselled Corax to heed the words of the Primarch who the Emperor had set above his brothers. Russ urged Corax to smother his bitterness, but not to extinguish it, and from that guttering flame kindle the fire to carry the battle through. Taking his leave of the council, Corax mustered the Raven Guard before Gate Forty-Two. Knowing their particular demeanour would carry them forward, Corax assigned many of his Terran-dominated companies to the van, in particular those whose captains appeared the most willing to play their part in the Warmaster’s plan.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermimation, p. 135

Corax didn’t want to waste the lives of his warriors in a frontal charge, but he still accepted the views of those Terrans who are used to being under Horus’s command, and he charged at the front with them.

The assault that followed was hailed as the Legion’s darkest hour, a grim honour that, tragically, would be displaced just a few years later at Isstvan V. At the height of the battle, the assault companies decimated and the attack faltering in the face of overwhelming fire, Corax himself led the forlorn hope, his battle cry firing the Legion to such efforts that the breach was carried and Gate Forty-Two taken. The honour of slaying the Unsighted Kings was claimed by Horus as Warmaster and at the moment of their execution, the xenos’ hold over the population was dispelled. The Akum-Sothos Cluster was delivered and the Warmaster’s prize was reclaimed. The cost was terrible however, for not only had countless millions of hosts been crippled in mind and body, but thousands of Raven Guard, the bulk of them Terran-born, had given their lives before the shattered walls. Though the Battle of Gate Forty-Two was counted a victory by (and indeed for) the Warmaster, its effects were far reaching. The Legion’s numbers were sorely depleted, leaving only 80,000 Legionaries under the Primarch’s command and making it the smallest of the Legiones Astartes. Corax removed himself and his Legion from his brother’s command, swearing bitterly never to serve alongside the Warmaster again.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermimation, p. 135

Horus commanded Corax to sacrifice his sons at the front and then stole the kill, and even if some Terran Raven Guards did gave their lives willingly, Corax was greatly pained by this, and he certainly did not sending them to their deaths on purpose. Corax doesn’t like certain slaver behaviours seen on some Terran Raven Guards, usually commanders, but normal Raven Guards to him are all good warriors, and should not die in vain.

One last consequence of the Battle of Gate Forty-Two lingers still. In its aftermath, those line officers who, before the coming of the Primarch, had served for so long under Horus’ command were gone, and so the Warmaster was able to exert little in the way of influence over the Raven Lord’s Legion. Many of these Terrans had been inducted into the warrior lodges, and with their deaths these unseen bodies all but vanished from the Raven Guard. It has been claimed by his detractors that in assigning the Terranborn Legionaries to the assault wave that would suffer the greatest losses, Corax did his Legion a service, consolidating his power and paving the way for a future more in line with his own vision. As a result, the Legion was largely spared the wave of insurrection that was transmitted through so many of the Legions by the hidden auspices of the lodges.

The Horus Heresy Book III Extermimation, p. 135

From another perspective, even though there seems to be so much conflict between Corax and Terran Raven Guards, there weren’t any Raven Guards that chose to defect to Horus during the Heresy. Most Terran Raven Guards, upon hearing the news, chose wither to return and defend Terra, or sought revenge from traitors because they thought their primarch is dead. If Corax was really so cold-blooded, then most of the Terran Raven Guards would’ve chosen to follow Horus during the Heresy. The Raven Guards are assertive and knew who was good to them, so even the Ashen Claws, who were on very bad terms with him, chose to go renegade instead of following Horus.

After addressing the issue of Corax‘s treatment of Terran Raven Guards, I will address the idea that, because Corax was too nice to his sons, he lacks authority and cannot manage them.

Firstly, Corax returned very late, and by the time he has returned, the XIXth legion already has a terrible reputation, with problems in many areas. Corax needed to manage his legion in the Great Crusade and trying to fix all of the problems of his Raven Guards. Under this condition, the fact that there wasn’t a rebellion within the legion during the heresy is a pretty remarkable achievement. Some people will use Sanguinius as a rebuttal against this, but Sanguinius is supposed to have outstanding charisma. And if you are using Sanguinius as the standard for legion management, then any legion where there is anyone not listening to the primarch also fails, not just Corax.

Secondly, Corax is a primarch that values the individuality of his subordinates and respects their personalities. He wants every warrior to have self awareness and independent thought, that way in the absence of a leader they can quickly regroup and continue the battle. A feature of the Raven Guards is that they can quickly split up, fight in groups, and then regroup at a key moment, still in sync. So Corax would listen to the thoughts and ideas of all his subordinates, then give them an overall direction.

‘And what is strength?’ ‘True strength comes from knowing one’s own value is dependent upon the value of others,’ said Arendi. It had been only a short time since he and the other survivors of the primarch’s guard had arrived, but already he showed signs of returning health. His face was filling out, eyes brighter, skin smoother. ‘It is recognising the bond between us all and acting together for the cause of all.’

‘A thousand disparate pieces, each of purpose and value, brought together under the control of a single mind,’ said Corax. ‘We shall be the same. A machine, an organism. Of many parts working separately, but invisibly, silently bound by common purpose and thought. I do not ask you to swear loyalty to me, for there is no greater oath you have sworn than by your deeds in the name of the Emperor. I do not ask you to become Raven Guard, for the blood of other fathers and the customs of other worlds have shaped you. You are each what you are, individual – but together, indivisible, we will be even greater.’

‘Perhaps for the Raven Guard,’ said Damastor Kyil, an artificial lung wheezing as he drew in a breath. ‘Not all of us grew up in a prison, nor spent years fighting far from the command of our primarchs. You take that culture for granted, Lord Corax.’ ‘I do not,’ the primarch replied. ‘You will soon each have first-hand experience of the fighting I describe. And you will have close acquaintance with those that have been terrorised into submission. I demand no promise or oath beyond that you accompany us on our next attack and learn from the Raven Guard how to wage the war we must now fight. After that, you are free to go your own ways, to attempt to return to Terra or other home worlds as you choose, or to remain under my command.’

Ravenlord, Chapter 5

Corax teaching the followers at hand, from Ravenlord. Corax’s style has always been to lead the people into battle, giving them strength and knowledge in the process. When he is sure they can progress on their own, he will release his grip on them, and let them move forward on their own.

It’s the principles of “Give a man a fish and you feed him for a day. Teach a man to fish and you feed him for a lifetime.’, which is how he’s always educated his sons. So the more he trusts them, the more likely he will send them away. By 40k, the Raven Guards also use this method to manage the worlds they’ve liberated, leaving after ensuring that the people can defend themselves.

The precise means of liberation vary from world to world. If the corruption is centralised, the Darkened Blades employ the lightning assaults common to the Adeptus Astartes, mustering overwhelming power against the unready foe. More often the oppression is endemic, however, and must be confronted on a continental or even planetary scale. In such cases, the 6th Company divide into subformations and mount fast-moving guerrilla actions to make optimal use of their limited numbers. Meanwhile, local resistance forces are trained in those aspects of the shadow arts that any Imperial citizen can grasp, so that they might support the Raven Guard operation and contribute to their own deliverance. The Raven Guard cannot remain on a world forever, and their desire is to leave a liberated populace who can look to their own defence.

Raven Guard Codex 8th edition, 6th Company “The Darkened Blades”, p. 17

[aziraphales-library]

Do you have any deaf/mute/blind Aziraphale fics?

I’ve found some fanfics where Gabriel punishes Aziraphale and takes his vision or hearing away (temporarily). But I have already read all of them and I can’t seem to find anything else.

Here are some blind Aziraphale fics along with one where he's mute and one where he's deaf...

Ringing Clear by Adoring_Eggsy (G)

Over the past 500 years, Aziraphale had noticed that his hearing was changing. At first it had been subtle, missing little snippets of conversation, and then people turned muffled, their words mumbling together to Aziraphale, like their speech was foggy mist. At age 6052, Aziraphale lost his hearing for good.

Beauty is in the Ear of the Listener by Sani86 (M)

Aziraphale would always remember the first time he heard the music, tendrils of song winding through the night air like a droplet of ink spilled into water, gently reaching out, probing, spreading until it seemed to fill the entire world. He followed its beckoning call.

How Love Feels by Coxy77 (M)

In the early 1860's, young Aziraphale, who has always been blind, comes in to his inheritance, a bookshop. However, rather than just being an ironic twist of fate, he finds love there and with the introduction of a new way of reading, the help he needs to unlock all the stories he can find and the means to bring his love of stories to others in his situation.

Love is Blind (Seeing Eye Snake) by Bfly1225 (G)

Had Aziraphale, for a second, had any brain power to spare, he’d have been entirely furious with himself. Though one doesn’t have much brain power to spare when all of it is being used to wallow in despair, this is a thought worth sharing. ALSO KNOWN AS Aziraphale meets an unfortunate accident in which he is rendered blind, but he is terrified of Crowley seeing the result, and hides from him instead.

When the morning stars sang by hapax (M)

As an immortal child of Typhon and Echidne, monstrous rebels against the rule of Olympos, Crawley didn’t need to eat, or drink, or sleep, or even breathe, not really. And some things they simply couldn’t do. Like love. Or cry. Or … Crawley pulled a stray serpent out of the corner of their mouth and tucked it behind their ear and hissed at the square white sail framed against the dawn. Or be left alone. Crawley, a self-exiled gorgon, couldn't imagine how their life would change when a ship-wrecked Aziraphale washes up on their island. But both harbor painful and dangerous secrets; and there is nowhere to hide from the cruel caprices of the gods.

A Quiet Place by NightValeian (T)

Once upon a time, a silent angel and an outspoken demon met on a wall. Over time, they manage to find some common ground.

- Mod D

[aestheticvoyage2025]

Day 85: Thursday March 27, 2025 - "A Long Way To Get"

Of the 30 odd some Bob Shows, this was the first in Tucson, where I've now spent roughly a fifth of my life. He came and sang on the stage in the plaza at Hotel Congress where Audrie and I danced on our wedding night, and after he affirmed that it indeed had been a minute (or 7) since we saw each other last, I was happy to tell him that story. The one about how I married a Tucson girl that I met after leaving him in Austin and while he's seen me out and about in a few different places since then, my life is starting to finally settle out - maybe a bit like his own, and I handed him an Amor Fati coin as I thanked him for all of it, over these last 20 years. Ive grown up with him, and now, knowing what we do, that meaningful music hits different and makes so much more sense. Big Blue Sea, Long Way To Get, Changing Your Mind, King of The World, Losing You. The soundtrack that made a cheerful Borderline stomp his feet, or pat his heart, and keep going. I hugged him and told him that I was thankful for most was that he always reminded me to not take any of it too serious - to dance, to have fun, be playful, to live life anyway. Amor Fati. I think thats what it means. I think maybe he taught me that, before I had words for it.

Of all the "important places" - this is one thats not on a map. Its anywhere out there, in front of a stage, plugging into this man's art - his dent in the universe - letting it dent me, all that pain and energy and happiness and love pour out of him and through me. so blessed and grateful he can still find me - almost 20 years on from when I first tuned in; I am so blessed that my band has stayed together.

Audrie will joke and remember tonight as the one where we pretended we were 29 again and drank every Gin and Tonic in Tucson, mixing it with the spicy Chicken Ethiopian that we enjoyed with inspirational talk about family before the show. Indeed, I made good friends with the Bar Tender, and Audrie made friends with the other Bob lover ladies that just wanted to dance at this rather tame showing. We both were somewhat uncomfortable the aging audience in our hometown, and what that means for us. And thats ok. Not only is the music genreless, its timeless - though aged. We're a long way from the Duck Room. But it was a nice welcome back, and I fell in love with some new songs that I have no clue what they're called, and remember nostalgically some of the old songs that I now understand on such a deeper level. So many great memories of being happy. I spent a lot of time swaying, hold my mala beads next to my heart. Moved. Instead of a middle finger for Changing Your Mind - a deep regret - I raised an I love You Sign with my fingers and I held it there long enough for him to see it and know. Time to find all that old frunk. He hasn't lost a single step and I love him more than I ever did. So glad that he found us here finally in Tucson and hopefully thats a sign that he'll be back. I told him itd be a pleasure if it was him that would teach my son to cuss. Audrie gave him a teary drunken speech to make sure it would indeed be a Bob Night we'd remember, then we had a rowdy night cap in the Hotel Congress Bar. Memorable not just for the music and the hangovers, and the heartburn, but also for the romantic shift we're finally having -for the hope in the future, and for the love that we shared. The most fun we've had together for a long time. And thats why you show up. Collecting mile markers on our journey and this man continues to sing the music of my life. There are a few things that are uniquely me. And my long love affair with this man is one. I am sorry that I had forgotten for so long, just how happy seeing him makes me and that was behind every intention when I promised him, it wouldn't be long before you'd see us dancing and smiling in front of him again. Especially if he puts Tucson on his regular map knowing we're here now!

Song: Tom Waits - Long Way Home

Quote: Never trust a musician who plays with their eyes open All the good stuff happens when they’re closed You gotta give yourself the shivers before you can give ‘em to someone else ~John Craigie

[mapsofnonexistentplaces]

7, 22, and 23 for ulises !

7 favorite animal? why?

she’s a horse girl through and through it’s like. might be a niche experience but you know those people who have like a huge phase of getting into cat breeds and genetics as a kid. yeah she’s like that but she can tell you all about specific horse colourations and shit like that. i think it was just kind of an arbitrary animal she latched into in all honesty but maybe she had like some experience with horseback riding as a child that endeared her to them greatly hah….

she also likes most dogs, especially ones on the bigger side :+) similarly to the potential horse thing but actually textual is that she had like a border collie as a kid. definitely fond of those kinds of ‘herding dogs’

22 do they sleep well at night?

hmm she has a very tilted sleep schedule wherein for the longest time she just relied on random naps throughout the day to keep her going, which was maintained until she noticed demeter was often uncomfortable at night, thenceforth deciding to return to a more uniform composition of rest to both be there for them and “set a good example” for them…. i imagine that’s contributed positively to her overall liveliness and attentiveness in conversation but earnestly she was very used to pulling allnighters and utilising things like coffee to stay afloat. so her choice to sleep a bit better was entirely done to support her partner rather than arising out of any major problems with exhaustion or whatnot….

23 how would you describe their voice? can they sing?

most important facets of ulises' voice to me are 1) very nasally, kind of has a lighter 'layer' of speech under a coarser one 2) pace varies a lot but tends to be quite quick, occasionally taking awkward pauses before launching into a lot of really fast wordage as if making up for lost time hah. in the past ive also described her voice as being the type thats like. "good for telling a campfire story" like when she's very focused on what she's saying she can really use pacing and timing to add effect to her speech....

i think ive also made it canonical that her singing voice is kind of awful but shes very enthusiastic HAH she can sing things that are like. about midrange fine but if a song goes really high or low her voice starts wobbling a lot

[dollarbin]

Shakey Sundays #21:

Time Fades Away, Part 2

So. I headed north as promised last night, straight into L.A., Neil's very own uptight city in the smog (city in the smog), to see my famous brother make some very grown up music.

It was amazing and upsetting. Amazing in that Prairewolf are, for our current moment, what Booker T and the MG's were for 1967.

But it was upsetting in that my famous brother and his almost as famous bandmates did not obey my directive and perform Neil Young's Yonder Stands the Sinner with a generous dollop of their own wordless cosmic white man cowboy jazz funk slathered on top. Rather they played songs from their first two records.

I made some videos but have no idea how to paste them in here. If I could figure it out, you'd hear me grooving and hollering and jostling about as everyone in the room blissfully lost their minds amidst the rowdy crowd action and psychedelic vibes.

Naw, it wasn't really that kinda show. Even though Dr. Demento himself was allegedly in the room everyone just sat and nodded with appreciative thoughtfulness while they played. My buddy Greg points out that we probably looked a lot like the studious white folks in the Booker T clip. The band made no speeches and pensively sipped at their Tecates. The projected images behind them swirled and danced in time with my brother's patient yet nimble fretwork. I was filled with intensely mellow joy. Then I drove home.

It was awesome.

And yet, because Prairiewolf didn't bust out a single Time Fades Away cover, I do need to issue the following apology: yesterday's post had nothing whatsoever to do with Neil Young's reckless live album of entirely new songs from 73. Please accept my humble apologies and send all your angry feedback to my famous brother at doomandgloomfromthetomb.

I didn't understand Time Fades Away on any level as a teenager. Neil sounded cranky throughout; the pace was frantic until it was dull; there were no noticeable guitar solos (somehow I didn't notice the fairly groovy interludes on Last Dance); and even at the tender age of 16 I wanted to find David Crosby and punch him squarely in the nose for smugly interrupting the record to announce that what followed would be "a little experimental".

For reasons that are not well-founded or clear I've always associated Crosby with my middle school woodshop teacher Mr Halferty: he would not let us touch any wood in his classroom. Rather, we made keychains and sugar scoopers (as if any of had sugar barrels at home that needed accessing a la Laura Ingall's Farmer Boy) outta plastic and he drove an El Camino. On the last day of school we surreptitiously placed all our finished projects around the wheels of his sweet ride gleefully figuring that as soon as he peeled out there'd be shattered plastic everywhere.

The plan was to hide in the bushes and watch it all go down. I don't think we followed through on that part of the plan. But I felt it then and I feel it now: neither Mr. Halferty nor Crosby have any business on a Neil Young record of any kind post Deja Vu (unless they're glowing unobtrusively in the background as in Through in My Sails).

And so I didn't dig Time Fades Away as a kid.

But it's over 30 years later and I now carry Neil's cranky frantic energy on the record around with me just about everywhere I go. I berate my 11th grade students whenever they enter the classroom more than 6 seconds late or act like their phones are their friends. I drive either way too fast or way too slow. I dream of punching Donald Trump, not David Crosby or poor old Mr. Halferty, squarely in the nose.

So, these days Time Fades Away is right up my alley.

Let me count the ways:

The title track sounds like it's played by angry, drunk monkeys. I mistakenly had my turntable turned up to 45 rpm this weekend when I first dropped the needle; aside from the fact that Neil sounds like a bubbly chipmunk at that speed the song sounds basically the same: terrifying, and good.

Neil must have issued 48 different live versions of Journey Through the Past in the last decade and a half. They're all good. But on Time Fades Away's original take Neil is more plastered than on all the other versions combined.

And you know what they say when it comes to Shakey and Freezermen concerts at Vassar College in 01: the drunker, the better.

As Neil works towards and through the last chorus I feel the room spin wildly around him. It's terrifying, drunk and bleak; it's awesome.

Yonder Stands the Sinner is one of the most unhinged tracks in Young's entire oeuvre. It does not sound experimental, David Crosby; rather it sounds wonderfully insane. At 16 years old I just scratched my head and thought about playing The Joshua Tree or something else instead. Today I feel like Neil is reading the words inscribed on my very soul:

Neil Young: he calls my name without a sound.

Up next we've got L.A. I grew up there. It was alright. But this song is way better: Neil borrows much of the hook from Come on Baby Let's Go Downtown and slows it way the hell down. He's already finding his Tonight's The Night sound and groove here with Ben Keith alongside him, the steel guitar throwing shadows on every available wall of the theater. This is probably my favorite song on the record.

Love in Mind, like The Bridge on Side 2, is just lovely. Neil could nail a ballad like no one else at this point. Everything is fragile and quavering. You want to give the poor guy a hug and recommend a good therapist.

My nearly 80 year old mother talked after the show last night about how seeing her son on stage in Prairiewolf was the opposite of all the Kris Kristofferson shows she saw around LA before Kris became a household name. Seeing her drunk, vulnerable, potentially doomed and beloved cousin play live was utterly stressful. She saw that Kris was not well but that he simply had to make earnest art anyway.

I think it would have been similarly stressful to have been an alive and well Neil Young fan in 1972/3. (I was born in 76 and encountered Young as he entered his 90's heyday.) Fans on the Time Fades Away tour must have worried about whether he was even gonna make it through the show without keeling over.

Folks my age and younger have never been properly stressed out by any of Neil's Ditch era; we encountered all that wonderful music with the knowledge that he survived it all; indeed, we knew that he spun the whole era on its head and made it the foundation for his greatness rather than the soundtrack for his demise.

When it comes to great art like this record, time doesn't fade away. It morphs, it swells and it alters perspectives. Kinda like the lights and sounds I saw on stage in LA last night... And check it out: I figured out how to put in a video of it all which captures... almost nothing. But take my word for it, it was awesome!

[grandhotelabyss]

Thoughts on the Justin E. H. Smith/Justin Smith-Ruiu Generation X essay in Harper's?

Generations must be real, because, though I'm "old" too, I didn't relate to most of it, except for a few inarguable points (e.g., his denunciation of the tech monopolies for their threat to free speech). I think it's credulous to cite the 1960s as he does:

My own grievance against the boomers is that they betrayed their earliest intuitions, that they went and corporatized rock music, that they stopped believing in the revelatory power of the visions they had while on drugs, that they stopped defending the libido. My grievance against the millennials and younger is that they don’t seem to know, or care, that for a brief moment in the mid-to-late twentieth century these forces seemed to be delivering on the long-held hope—a hope held ever since the Ranters began ranting and the Quakers began quaking and all kinds of utopians went and founded their communes and got naked and dreamt, with Charles Fourier, of someday being able to play the piano with our feet—the long-held hope, I was saying, for human liberation.

This well oversells the drugs and the libido and the music as socially emancipatory forces rather than radically individualizing ones, for worse and for better. It might be an overcorrection to adopt the too-paranoid Weird Scenes Inside the Canyon view—taken to its Pynchonian-Lynchian apogee in that famous scene from the otherwise rather forgettable Under the Silver Lake—but what about Joan Didion?

Such utopianism leads him to a still-Adornian over-pessimism about the present as absolute dystopia, even though he seems to think he's outgrown Adorno. Nobody ever would have heard of lower-middle-classers like either him or me without present communications technology; for this reason alone, I can't endorse nostalgia for the broadcast era in any of its cultural phases. And is there really more philistinism now than there ever was? Or is it just more visible because it's invaded previously commanding institutions like the Ivy League and the New York Times at the very moment when they've lost some of their prestige?

A big shift away from the moralism he cites as destroying art is already underway, as evidenced, among other things, by his essay's being published as the cover story of Harper's. He should talk to some Zoomers. For example, he mentions Crumb. The first time I ever taught Crumb, in 2014, there was almost a riot in the classroom. The last time I taught Crumb, in 2020, the students told me "the previous generation" (they meant my own) thought he was offensive, but they just found him intriguingly odd.

I despise Crumb, by the way. My own petit-bourgeois bêtise manifests itself not as all-encompassing negativity toward the great world but rather as a tacky cubic-zirconia overvaluation of the superficially lovely. In other words, I don't like ugly art, no matter the sophisticated theoretical justification. I never went through any phase when I would have a said a word against Rumours, which I found as a kid in my parents' record collection, just as Smith found it in his. Adolescent Smith deprecated Nirvana as too easy, but they were always a bit rough for me. I couldn't appreciate the generational anthem "Smells Like Teen Spirit" until I heard Tori Amos's cover: there was the structure of it, beautiful as anything, but I needed the blatant ornamentation of the piano before I could see it. ("That song was not written on distorted guitar," according to the aforementioned Under the Silver Lake.) Anyway, here's the crux of the matter dividing us:

We were inspired by Theodor Adorno’s idea that if music is to be considered art, and is to be a veracious witness to its era, it must ipso facto be difficult. We ordered CDs from labels in Maastricht and Berlin that promised us “clicks and cuts,” “sonic rhizomes,” and something they called “glitches,” which were for a while hailed as the equivalent to turntable scratches, but unlike scratching vinyl, which made early hip-hop continuous with the deconstructive aesthetics of the cut-up, the manipulation of a damaged compact disc sounds like nothing but an error, like a new technology that has gotten stuck. It is hard to say when exactly this haughty farce came to an end and my current sensibility set in, a sensibility that declares, quite simply, that all music, insofar as it is music, is good. Nirvana is good, Santana is good, and Kylie Minogue is good when you’re in the back of a taxi at night in Baku (for example). It’s all good, for it all comes down to us from a higher world.

See? Too negative and too positive. Good music is good insofar as it's good, not insofar as it's music, and comes down to us from a higher power—I believe this too—also only insofar as it's good. And if he really means this, then why's he so mad? If all music—all art—is good, then what could "philistinism" even mean? Best to keep a lookout for what's good and try not to be too consumed by what's bad. Even identifying and attacking the bad—a necessary task, like taking out the trash—should be approached as a constructive activity: a way of clearing a space for the good to flourish. But then I would say that, wouldn't I? I am a Millennial. Oh well, whatever, never mind.

[windofmist]

I agree that Athena's interference influenced Odysseus to turn back to the cyclops, and if she hadn't Odysseus would have continued on his way, but I think that rather than out of spite, his speech to the cyclops is more Odysseus' typical MO for defeated foes and her words just made it occur to him to talk about mercy (as he was already doing so anyway with her). As he also makes a long speech and 'teaches' the sirens their mistake in Different Beast as he did with the cyclops in Remember Them.

Whether or not Athena knew who the cyclops had connections to isn't really stated one way or another so it is possible, but it's also possible that she didn't (and there is no way to know every single person who knows a person who knows a person that's powerful). I think it's understandable for Athena to have emotional reactions or act the way she did, but with regards to what she could have done- if she wanted to (which she didn't then) I don't think she would have any qualms about working against Poseidon, considering the gods often do so in greek mythology, especially with regards to heroes, and especially because she and the other gods were working in opposing goals recently in the trojan war.

I agree that in the long run, Odysseus loses much more than she does, but I was speaking only of that point in the song. The song also specifically says 'this day you lost it all' and even if we don't account for any time happening between Remember Me and Storm, there's a full nine days in just Keep Your Friends Closer. Unless she has future vision, she would not know about what else he would lose, and because it's not confirmed that she knows about the cyclop's connections, based only on the songs, I don't think it can be taken into account because it can't be argued either way as it isn't textually referenced. And my main point of loss for Athena was not ten years, but in her mission vs Odysseus' mission, their attitudes towards it (at that point).

In terms of the conflict between Odysseus and Athena in My Goodbye

Athena is correct in the assessment that Odysseus turning back to the cyclops and revealing who he is was reckless

'that's not a teaching of mine' so abandoning the student you've mentored and helped that you've invested more than ten years into, your stated singular mission, in a moment of anger and disappointment is... not being reckless, I guess

Odysseus 'growing soft' has nothing to do with his friends being killed (at this moment). None of his friends died when he lead with peace, and none of them died until part way through the battle when the cyclops started using a weapon instead of his bare hands. If Odysseus had immediately jumped to fighting the cyclops, then he just gets to the part where he loses his friends faster. If Odysseus hadn't trusted the lotus eaters and raided them, they would end up with a lot of lotuses, and without the lotus' information, he wouldn't find any safe food on this island for his starving men. *

Put your emotions aside, she says emotionally

'This way, when all is over you'll keep yours and I'll keep mine'/'This day, you lost it all' Technically, as of this point, Odysseus still has his main mission and is on route to completing it, whereas she lost her strongest lead on completing hers so... not from her own perspective, but from my perspective she lost more

*the only thing he could have done for better results is if he had asked the lotus eaters more questions about it, ie what is this food exactly, does it have any effects, is it dangerous, are there inhabitants there, if so what are the inhabitants like, etc. and been more prepared/had a thorough plan going in. Which, it would have been being more cautious, but it doesn't have anything to do having or not having a heart

[thefirstknife]

Since a lot of people have been talking about possible antisemitism and racism in Bungie's writing I wanted to add something that always bothered me.

I think that Saint-14 as a character is at least influenced by some pretty anti Slavic stereotypes. He's the only major character of Slavic origin (accent) and he just so happen to embody the stereotype of "Slavic brute". He's strong and kills hordes of enemies not showing almost any remorse. And the Season of the Splicer even managed make it worse! Even when he's portrayed as having some deeper thoughts and agency he's still constructed as being unable to be subtle with his words (despise speaking English)

I really like Saint as a character but it's unpleasant to see that he's clearly created as a stereotype

I respectfully disagree. I've seen this line of thinking around A LOT, especially during Splicer, and I don't understand where it comes from outside of people being unable to treat non-native English speakers right. Source: I am Slavic. Not American with Slavic heritage, I am a Slavic person living in a Slavic country and English is not my native language.

Saint is as far away from a brute as possible. Ever since he's settled down in the City, he is dedicated to protecting, not attacking. He feeds birds and sings songs with the children of the City. He dedicated his time to learn to bake cookies for the Eliksni and was considerate to find a recipe that is specifically for Eliksni. He fights when he has to, but has largely settled down and would rather plough fields and plug holes in the wall than fight. He is incredibly emotional and emotionally intelligent and understanding. He is aware of his own and other people's emotions and he's open about it unapologetically.

He is so non-aggressive to the point of many in the community, including big lore youtubers, wishing for Osiris to DIE, just so they can see Saint being angry and aggressive enough to go on another bloody rampage. Because Saint is too tame for them. Too passive, too peaceful. Where is he a brute right now?

Saint has been "brutish" before Season of Dawn, because we never saw him anywhere outside of a couple of lines. He essentially didn't exist as a character until Season of Dawn and the only thing we knew about him was that he was a legendary Titan who went on a crusade against the Eliksni and killed many of them. That's definitely brutish!

When we met him in Dawn, we met him in the middle of his crusade, at the time where he lost countless innocent people to Eliksni in the middle of the horrible conditions of the Dark Age. He is... rough, and angry. Reasonably. He just got to Mercury to save civilians and he lost them and he almost died. He thinks in black and white terms; Eliksni bad, humans good. He is harsh and lost.

But, that's when we find him in a bad position and when he's yelling on comms because he's under fire. He also speaks in broken English and with an accent. People are prejudiced when they hear it and immediately assume less subtlety and less eloquence. That's not on Bungie. That's on the prejudiced audience.

In written text, he speaks perfectly fine. Observe this and this. The issue arises when he speaks out loud (with an accent) or when he's talking to friends casually or when he's making jokes. I don't know why people expect him to speak like he's giving a speech at all times. He can speak perfectly fine, but for non-native speakers, that can be exhausting. He is allowed to drop the eloquence in a more relaxed situation.

Pointing out Splicer is incredibly strange to me because in Splicer he made the biggest possible turning point when he was confronted with how other people see him as a brute. The cutscene where Mithrax tells a story about how the Eliksni view him as a monster shook him to his core. He has been on a path of redemption ever since and dedicated his time to gently protecting Eliksni. He even started learning their language and culture.

I would understand saying that Saint started off as a brute, because he did. But Bungie pulled the biggest flip of a switch on us when they showed us that Saint is actually a huge softie, a gentle man who was pushed to war only to protect, someone who lives for peace and quiet. He is good-natured, trusting, perceptive, kind and empathic.

How is this man a brute (this is just a small selection of his idle lines):

Food reserves are dwindling. New land must be ploughed. I can do this! / Everyone is so accommodating, I- I will think of ways to give back to them. / Shaxx, ugh. Glory is for the selfish. We fight to end the fighting. / To hear the children laughing. This is the peace we fight for. / The city breathes, ships flow through its veins. There is life here, and it is thriving. / I walked the City walls, plugged holes. Every small act brings us closer to peace. / The Traveller teaches us in these quiet moments. We are not defined by our scars. / The Light does not make us heroes, friend. Power is only good when it is used for good. / I am glad to see birds still nest in these old walls. / This life can take its toll. Come to me if you need to talk. / Yesterday, a child came to me. He carried a painted shield of paper. I turned to him and he threw the shield at my head! A young Titan, I love it! [laughing]

Saint-14 is the gentlest man in the whole damn setting. Bungie said "fuck toxic masculinity in particular" when they decided to treat us to a Saint so kind that people in-universe are surprised to learn that's THE Saint-14, the one who fought at Six Fronts and led a crusade against Eliksni. Eva's assessment of this:

"That's right," he said, spreading a little more birdseed. "It is a pleasure to meet you, Eva."

We sat a little longer together, watching the pigeons and the clouds, before I finally had to excuse myself to go back to my work.

As I said, I'd heard the legend of Saint-14 before. Many legends of remarkable Guardians make them seem like mythical figures, so far removed from anything the civilians of the City will ever see or experience. The legendary Saint-14 does not seem that way to me at all.

In fact, I think he is a very nice young man.

Saint is deeply ashamed and regretful of his violent past. Because he DID have a violent past, much like pretty much every Lightbearer. Saint and Shaxx discuss this, as well as Shaxx and Mithrax. But as much as he fought and as powerful he is, Saint does NOT enjoy war or fighting. He endures it because he knows that sometimes you must take up arms to protect those who can't protect themselves, but if he had the option to be sure that the City will stay safe without his aid, he would hang up his armour forever.

I've talked a lot about how much I appreciate that Bungie took a big powerful manly man who went on rampaging crusade before and presented him to us as a gentle and kind person who loves children and birds, who prefers domestic tasks over war and who is deeply emotional and thrives on kindness. It's quite strange to see people saying that he's a "Slavic brute stereotype." He is literally the opposite of it.

If there are specific instances in lore that someone thinks are stereotypical and brutish, I would love to see them so I can address them in context. I'm also not sure what "subtle with his words" means exactly, but if there are examples of this that you'd like addressed, I'm happy to investigate. Bungie is obviously not perfect so there could be instances where they messed up, though I can't currently recall any in regards to Saint and the fact that he's Slavic.

[juniaships]

As much as I want to ignore Shrek the Turd I think it's a lot rewarding to address its flaws than take the easy way out. So here us a list of what I would've changed had I wrote the movie.

Harold's death

- the choice of song is rather out of place

- only serves to push a dramatic moment/shove Artie into the plot

- I actually like Harold :/

How to fix it:

- Harold doesn't die. Instead he gets an old man crisis & Lillian decides to take him on vacation to recuperate; naturally leaving Fiona and Shrek in charge

- Harold does die but the moment is treated with actual respect.

- Harold doesn't die BUT there is a death: Artie's father. The Royal Family go to Camelot for the funeral and meets Uther's estranged son Artie. That way Artie's daddy issues has more purpose in the story bc he truly can't reconcile with his dad, and Shrek a more sympathetic reason to steps up as a father figure.

- Alternatively, Artie's mom dies and he is sent to live in FFW bc his father doesn't want custody. So Shrek AND Fiona has to deal with a teenager and both have fear of parenthood byt still wants to give Artie the best. This also allows Fiona and Artie to interact with each other

Artie

Problem: suffers what I call Chicken Little Syndrome, he's kinda bland and we don't know much about him. Also his bullied nerd background Only serves to make him sympathetic cuz everyone is so mean to him! Beyond being kind and kinda dramatic Artie doesn't have much else

How to fix it:

- Everyone has beef with Artie because of his father's reputation. Perhaps Uther had a bad spending habit which left Camelot in financial ruin or his habit of flirting with women left a lot of illegitimate children now they're all fighting over rightful inheritance and puts down Artie bc he's the youngest/weakest

- Camelot has a very warrior like society but Artie is more diplomatic/soft, which makes him look weak in the eyes of everyone else. Eventually his softness saves Camelot

- Artie has a legitimate flaw (his trust issues) which makes him unable to properly communicate with others.

- Artie has a few true friends who are outcasts like him. But their support drives him to pursue a career in politics so he can help them and ppl like them (giving his speech more credibility)

The Princesses

Problem: most of them were boring at best, unlikable at worst.

How to fix it:

- Give the princesses more likable personalities: say they WERE strong and capable but got so caught up in glamor bc they don't want to remember the painful past

Problem: Charming and Rapunzel

- Comes right out of nowhere

- doesnt make since given Charming's arc is all abput becoming villain why would he date ANOTHER princess?

How to fix it

- Rapunzel's new motivation is she doesn't want an ogre on the throne, or she got tired of the princesses bullying her for her baldness. Or that she's jealous the princesses still have their princes yet Rapunzel lost hers. Or maybe Charming DID save her and she's working with him as a favor.

- However she discovers Charming is not as cool as she thought bc he still treats her (and any princess) like objects and not their own person

- Keep Rapunzel in the princess group and create a new character from scratch

- this new OC is a part of the villains not because she is one herself but because they're the only ones who accepted her for one reason or another. This makes her a foil for Charming and Godmother's relationship. She's wants to help them & save the Poison Apple from closing.

- however Charming is very bad at being evil so she teaches him how to be more assertive and this sets up a romance.

Issue: Arthurian myth

Problem: Aside from being retooled as a school campus, the Arthurian mythos doesn't have much prominence in the story

How to fix it:

-change the main goal to finding Excalibur or the Holy Grail (kiddie Monty Python)

- or have it where Camelot is in a crisis of succession so an election or tournament is held to decide the new king. Noblemen from all over participate (introducing us to the Princesses). Shrek and Fiona helps Artie while Charming joins so he can finally get his own kingdom

- Artie turns out to have magic instead of Merlin (who is just a wacky alchemist/scientist) but he lacks confidence

- At the end have it where Artie forms the knights of the round table (with some of the characters and villains as members)

- Maybe make Charming "Lancelot"

Girl Power Message

Problems: They were sidelined most of the movie, preventing Fiona from truly delving into her responsibilities as Queen. Also most of the girl characters like the Princesses & Guinevere were portrayed as shallow b*tches or not having much relevance

How to fix:

- Make Fiona the focus character this time and her story is juggling queenly duties and her trauma in the tower

- Have the princesses be an underground guerilla force they help her take out Charming during the movie

- or have it where the tower was actually a school to train princesses-to-be and Fiona's Kiss was part of a sceret test of character to see if she really is fit to be Queen; accepting her ogress form means she accepts EVERYONE, so she passed the test

- Fiona demonstrates her leadership skills by planning and carrying out targeted attacks, & taking care of civilians

- MAKE ARTIE A GIRL it makes a cool twist fitting for a franchise like Shrek. Or give Artie a female companion/love interest who accompanies him on his quest (perhaps Guinevere or a new character)

- instead of Merlin they meet Nimue/Lady of the Lake who takes the role of the kooky mentor

- Like I mentioned, explore why Rapunzel betrayed the team; perhaps make her have a change of heart and help her ex friends escape.

- Or like giving Charming a new love interest one who is a caricature of the Evil Sexy Villainess or YA Novel Girlboss Protagonist (have her learn it's okay to be vulnerable)

- have Shrek puss and Donkey be the ones in danger and fiona and her princesses are the ones to go on a journey to save them

Puss and Donkey's subplot

Problem: it doesn't do much to serve the story but for cheap comic relief. Donkey is a father himself but doesn't seem to do much to help Shrek and Artie

How to fix it:

- make Puss absent of stay with the princesses to help them

- Donkey talks with Shrek about his experiences as a father

- Remove the body switch entirely

- or have a subplot where Donkey and Puss still aren't getting along and Merlin switches them so they can learn to see from a new perspective.

- Maybe have Puss admit he doesn't have a good relationship with his own dad or something, or is actually great with kids (stunning Shrek and Donkey)

Shrek's arc

- Issue: we don't delve much into his backstory, he only wants to shirk his royal duties instead of doing the smart thing and actually confronting them

How to fix:

- introduce more Ogres or Shrek's dad. Have it be a family reunion or Shrek's dad finds out he married into royalty and that sets up the overall conflict

- Have the babies born before the movie and the plot is spent with him being a stay at home dad or caring for them while in Camelot while Fiona is tbe working parent

- also sets up an arc where Fiona struggles to balance mother hood and her job

- artie gets more used to ogre (children) leading to a realisation he has to step up to make a better future for their sake (again a more sympathetic reasoning)

The Villains

Issue: Charming is just Farquad 2.0, the rest seem to be props in their own story, Rapunzel

How to fix

- Make a new character who represents the villain side we get an intimate look at how society treats outcasts

- Give the villains more screentime like say we follow a group of them during theur trip to capture Shrek. They eventually have a confrontation and in the fray Artie ends up helping a villain much to their shock. They realise Artie isn't a threat. Or have it set at the play

- give Hook or Doris a prominent role

- or a new major villain; make it Charming's dad who takes him under his wing under the guise of wanting to help his son but is just manipulating him for the throne

- Make Charming struggle how ti adapt to being a villain due to his upbringing

- make some of the villains less open to wanting him in his group or have it where they try to help him be more evil (setting up potential jokes)

- Have Charming and Fiona have an actual moment with Fiona pointing out she did dream of a prince but is happy with Shrek and warns Charming that he still wouldn't be happy even if he did get everything

- Give Charming an actual villain love interest as a foil to Shrek and Fiona

- Don't include Charming at all (marry him off to Doris even lol) and create a new villain inspired by Arthurian lore. Maybe the Black Knight? Mordred? Morgan le Fay?

- Or even Artie himself! he wants to use his new position to enact revenge on his bullies

- Instead of the villains taking over it's the other fairytale heroes led by a jilted Charming and Shrek teams up with the villains to save FFW

- Make Uther the main villain

[mountswhore]

𝐟𝐥𝐮𝐟𝐟 𝐚𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭 — mason mount

if you have any requests, just ask! i’m all ears. if you wanna know who i write for, check this post.

admiration (what do they absolutely adore about you?)

Mason adores everything about you. But to be particular, he adores your compassion. Even before you guys had gotten together, and were just friends of friends at a party, he’d watch you take care of some of his teammates who’d had a little too much to drink. You’d be jumping between getting to know Mason and assisting someone to the bathroom to throw up. It was hard for him to hold back a giggle as he saw you take your heels off, excuse yourself politely and run after a drunken Grealish.

body (what is their favorite part of your body?)

Again, he loves everything about you. But if he had to choose, it’d be your eyes. They’re the first things he notices when he comes home from an away game, full to the brim with tears as you shout out how much you missed him. In the middle of a sleepless night, when the outside lighting makes your shiny eyes visible, he’d get lost in them. During a match, whether it be for the National team or Chelsea, the second he is on the pitch he would notice you close to the goal, in perfect view to watch him score. They’re what he looks into just before he kisses you, and he melts watching your eyes as you speak to a friend or family member, seeing them talk with your mouth.

cuddling (how do they like to cuddle?)

Mason’s favourite pastime is cuddling, outside of his career, of course. He’ll get home from training and you’ll be cozied up on the couch, practically inviting him into your warmth. He enjoys the cuddles with you on top of him, your head in his neck and his arms tightly around your back. But he loves laying his head on your stomach, smoothing his hand over your thighs as you massage his shoulders lightly. He loves cuddling you, but he’s a sucker for being cuddled. It’s a trick to get him to doze off pretty quickly, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

dates (what does their ideal date with you look like?)

He’s a busy man, but when it came down to seeing you and wanting you, he made time. He wanted only the best for you, so it was a fancy restaurant, being driven around in his nice sports car, treating you to whatever you wanted. He’d soon come to realise that both of yours ideal date is ordering a Chinese, playing a few fifa matches, and watching a comedy together.

emotions (how do they express emotion around you?)

Due to your compassion, you’d often spot when Mason was feeling down, angry, or just upset. So keeping it from you rendered useless. Now, if he’s ever in a shit mood, for any reason, he’ll find you and talk to you about it. You always end up making him feel better too, and giving him a different perspective on it. He couldn’t ask for a better girlfriend.

family (do they want one? If they do, when?)

If there was one thing Mason will not shut up about, it’s having children. Even his mates tell him to have a day off. You secretly find it cute, that he’s so ready to become a father and thinks of you as a suitable mother to his children. But Mason knows you’re not ready, with his career at the height it is right now and your age, you think kids aren’t on the cards right now, but you’re definitely wanting a few. Mason is absolutely okay with waiting for you, as he always mentions that there’s nobody else he’d rather do it with.

gifts (how do they feel about gift giving? What are their habits when it comes to this?)

Mason gets a bit too excited when it comes to your birthday. He’ll go all out on gifts every year, topping the one before, and dotting them around the house in places you don’t look. Like the boot of his car, the electrical cupboard, the back garden shed, he’s thought about it strategically. And his giddy attitude is never something you question, you usually pass it as his excitement for an upcoming match or just that fact it’s your birthday soon. It would take everything in him to keep it a secret, almost spilling a few of your gifts. He’d accidentally asked you to grab his cleats from the boot of his car, immediately stopping you once the door was open. And you were none the wiser.

holding hands (when/how do they like to hold hands?)

Whenever you’re both out with yours or his family, it is quite a large group, which usually meant a large outing. And being significantly shorter than him, he likes to hold you close. As you walk down a busy street, he won’t let you out of his sight, even if you’re talking to his mum, he’ll hold your hand tightly or have an arm around your shoulder. His family always thought it was cute, questioning why he does it. And he always responds with a joke, to hide his sloppiness. Something like, “she’s too short, can’t let her get lost.”

injury (how would they act if you got hurt?)

If you came home through the front door limping, he’d be all over you. Carrying you to the kitchen, observing the injury, calling the shots on what you need to do for the evening. Which usually consists of having a bath, resting in bed, texting him if you needed him. It was adorable, despite it being just a twisted ankle from the gym or something.

But on a serious scale, if you came home bawling your eyes out after an awful encounter, that’s when Mason loses all of his silliness and smiles. He’s cradling you on the floor of the living room, talking over what just happened and how you felt. He wouldn’t leave you for the rest of the evening, always making sure you’re feeling better and giving you tight squeezes before he goes to get you anything.

jokes (do they like to joke around with or prank you? how?)

Being an avid tiktok user, you’ve seen quite the pranks on there. And mason not yet having a tiktok, made it perfect to carry these out. You’d often spend hours on the phone with Declan, another avid tiktok user, sending prank ideas back and forth. Mason was quite the gullible person, either that or you were a brilliant actress, so your pranks were always going smoothly. And posting it to tiktok, you’d read through the flood of comments together, laughing about how deflated he looked when you swerved him from a kiss, or how in shock he looked when you told him the tower of Pisa had finally fallen over. It was a laugh you had every day.

kisses (how do they like to kiss you?)

It varies. If Mason is tired from training, the kisses would be soft and almost non-existent, it would just be Mason’s face incredibly close to yours and then moving away a few seconds later. In any good moments, he’s always reaching for a kiss. The second he sees you after a win, his lips are on yours and aren’t leaving any time soon. Mason’s favourite type of kiss is the kiss you give him every night. It doesn’t lead anywhere that often. But it’s a deep kiss, it’s saying you love him without actually saying it. It always leaves Mason in a haze, going to bed with a love struck smile on his face.

love (how do they show you they love you?)

Mason shows he loves you in many ways. His love language is acts of service. So waking you up in the morning before work with a tea, bringing you into the shower and washing your hair for you. Attempting to make you breakfast, driving you to work, letting you choose dinner and he pays, driving to the local supermarket if you’re in dire need of something. He couldn’t do this everyday with his schedule, but whenever he could, he did.

memory (favorite memory together?)

By far, his favourite memory of the both of you was your first time at Wembley. You were shaking in your shoes at the amount of people in the stadium, but Mason managed to get you the closest seats to the pitch with your family. It was the game he scored two goals in, rushing straight over to your side and blowing you kisses. You soon settled in to the crowd, cheering with everyone else. He’d rush over at half time, giving you a quick kiss before leaving you again. And Mason brought you back to the changing rooms to meet the team, keeping you close to him at all times.

nightmare (what is their worst fear?)

Mason’s worst fear is losing everything he has now. He’d be happy to admit he has everything he wants in life, an amazing career, a lovely list of family and friends, as well as someone he will soon have as a wife. He’s had a nightmare that he’d lost you before, the police broke the news to him and he woke up crying, holding you close for the rest of the night.

oddity (what is one quirk they have?)

It’s not so much of a thing now, but it definitely still happens. Before you were together, and Mason was still in the wooing stage, every time he spoke to you, he’d stutter. You found it adorable and took your time with him. You’d never rush him or look away bored, you’d just look into his eyes with a small smile and it’d make it worse. He’d trip on all of his words, trying to compliment you or ask you out. Even now, sometimes if you’re looking extra pretty or he’s just in a really lovey mood, he’ll slip up on his speech every now and then.

pet names (what do they like to call you?)

His go to pet names for you were baby, honey, and sweets. They just randomly caught on one day and never disappeared. But they make your stomach do flips every time you hear them.

quality time (how do they like to spend time with you?)

Being in your company was enough for him. But it’s the mundane things he loves the most. It’s a weird one, but food shopping. For you, it’s an hour of stress. Manoeuvring past other shoppers, trying to find everything on your list, do your back in as you put everything on the belt, and pack in in record time. But for Mason, he’s following you round in a haze. Like a cartoon character in love. Asking if he can get some stuff, which you always agree to, and seeing you in conversation with random shoppers. Finally getting back to the car with the shopping littered in the boot and back seat, Mason’s hand stays in yours as you rest in the passenger seat.

rhythm (what song reminds you of each other?)

You have a shared song, and Mason vows for it to be your wedding song. Easy by Ella Mai. It’s slow, it’s something you both slow danced to when you were drunk out of your minds in your own living room. The party was over and the song just randomly started playing, a frown on your face as you look up at your boyfriend. It wasn’t his usual taste, which is why it was so random. He told you, “I heard it for the first time the day after I met you. And I thought it was so good. So now it reminds me of you.

secrets (how open are they with you?)

The only thing he keeps from you are your birthday gifts, or big surprises for you. And even then, he’s so eager to just tell you. But he shares even the littlest things with you — like Declan falling over at training, about how he shooed away a bunch of girls when he went to buy dinner. You both trust each other and Mason will tell you every last detail about his day if he could.

time (how long did it take you to get together?)

Mason knew almost instantly you’d be his girlfriend, even joking to Chilly that you’d be his wife someday. And you were an oblivious person, so you were none the wiser to his plays, which is why it took a few months to get together. Mason always comments that if you actually noticed he was flirting, you’d have been together within a few weeks. But now you laugh it off after having been together for so long.

upset (how do they act when you’re upset?)

He drops everything to help you when you’re upset. A bad day at work, an argument with a friend or family member, or even just a day where the world is against you. He can usually tell by your quiet demeanour, giving him tired answers, and not wanting to cry around him. He’d catch you in the bedroom, flopped onto the bed and huffing. He’d join you, rubbing your back as you go off about your day. He’d listen to it for hours if it meant you were okay, but he’d just run you a bath and tell you he’d be back with dinner shortly.

vaunt (what are they proud of? Do they like to show you off?)

1000%. He’s the one to tell your family that he’s surprised he bagged you. He’s always saying you’re out of his league, posting you on his Instagram all the time. Showing you off to his friends and family, sending them pictures of the two of you dressed up nice. They all find it adorable — and they know just how much Mason loves you.

warrior (how do they feel about you fighting? Would they fight for you, beside you, etc?)

It’s on sight. If another man does so much as graze your shoulder, he’ll be on it for you. On the pitch, he’s okay with some confrontation, but anything regarding you, he’s not having it. You’re his and he would beat anyone who questioned it.

Usually, if it’s just a quarrel with a friend, he’ll listen to your side of things and give you some words of encouragement. But if it’s really nasty, he’ll be stepping in and having words. He has a lot of patience, but won’t let you be stood on.

x-ray (how well are they able to read you?)

Like a book, now. But when you were first dating, you hid your emotions well. At least, you thought you did. All it took was one touch from mason, and you were crying like a baby in his arms about your horrible shift. You thought you held up a tough front, but staring up at his eyes, as he looked back at you with concern laced among his features, it told him how you really felt. Now he knows the telltale signs, and he’s there to help.

yes (how would they propose to you?)

Mason thinks about this question a lot. He wonders it in the shower, making you your morning tea, during his downtime at training. He’s even scrolled endlessly through a bunch of rings, asking the opinions of his mum and sister. The question had come up between the two of you, and you’d said how you’d felt about marriage. You wanted it, but big events for a proposal were detested by you.

If it was up to Mase, he’d take you on holiday. Buy you a gorgeous summer dress, take you to the beach and declare his undying love for you. But he’d take a small proposal in bed at 2am, too.

zen (what makes them feel calm?)

As mentioned before, Mason was a sucker for domestic things. Watching you do the shopping as he trails behind you was his idea of spending good time together. But getting home from a long day of training, and smelling whatever dinner you’d concocted for the evening. It was as if your front door was the very gates of Heaven. No matter what happened during the day, the second he smells his dinner and greets you happily, nothing is ruining his mood.

if you guys want me to turn some of these into longer requests, just ask! i’m in the mood to write for mase🥺

[rose-from-ashes]

Though Emelian was not privy to Morganaux's thoughts or emotions, he was a clever and experienced man. He knew that just because Morganaux had lowered his glamour, it did not mean he was comfortable. In fact, in all likelihood he was distinctly uncomfortable. One who wore a glamour for their facial expression of all things, that would be someone who was very particular in both how they were perceived and how they perceived others. Someone who would observe small details, someone who knew that they had tells for their truths and wished to conceal them. The knowledge that he had took the step to lower it didn't erase the fact that it had been there in the first place, nor did it erase all the things that such a glamour said about him.

And thus, Emelian surmised that Morganaux was likely already longing for that safety again. An impulse of respect would not erase the caution of his character overall. And though Emelian wore no glamour of his own, he was a kindred soul. His golden eyes tracked every fidget, every subconscious flutter of aether. Logged away patterns and details, his delicate mannerisms- he was already picking up on the way that Morganaux used his treats as a way to carefully delay speech long enough for him to compose himself and prepare his next words, for instance. A convenient method, and once he'd admittedly abused himself from time to time, though half of such actions were taken in the form of wine rather than snacks. Ah, how he loved the stuff.

Oh, and how he loved humor, too. Admittedly, it could distract even him sometimes. He made no effort to hide the smile that split his face wide in response to the playful dramatics, showing carefully cared for white teeth, nor stifle the chuckle that bubbled forth from his chest as he sat forward a bit and responded with a lament of his own.

"Ah, but a work of the arts of any kind must be shared, no? I pay a lot of money as patron to those who sing, hum, strum, and drum a great many tunes- what's an extra few? And besides, such a glorious tale and visage as yours ought to be shared and appreciated by many. I could see it- forty paintings and fifty tales told on every street. A waltz composed for you alone swelling from my bustling ballroom. You'll simply have to get used to the praise and song, my dear. Unless you make my silence worth it. After all, I would loathe to be parted from the very source of that inspiration."

Much as he denies Morganaux's wish, it is clearly all play- the flattery in all it's inherent charm at least seems to have some glimmer of genuine intent somewhere in there, but the imagery he spins is all hypothetical dramatics, full with grand gestures as if he were an actor on an empty stage laying out the scene. After a short pause, a glance to Morganaux to gauge his reaction, he slips in a playful, flirtatious comment- "Then again, I do see the perks in keeping you all to myself. Ah, possibilities and prospects- we'll have it figured out in due time."

As Morganaux returns to the proper subject, the wide grin relaxes into a simple, small smile, and Emelian once more sits back, light and easy as he accepts the tart offered, by hand rather than mouth. He has a mind to tell him of Thavnair- until Morganaux poses his hypothetical, and the smile fades from his face entirely. Not even the spark of humor and interest that had been in his eyes from the start, despite Morganaux's own lightness in asking- for a moment, Emelian seems very, very old, sad and empty, and a little... Haunted. Not in the way of a frightened new tenant in a possessed old home, but in the way of a widowed old man longing for the ghost of his passed wife, unable to see her next to him and unable to say his farewell. Oh, how he longed to say he would go home.

As he draws in his next steady breath, though, it fades, and his lips find that small smile again, though his eyes have still lost that spark. He leans back and tilts his head up, closing his eyes, and the weight seems to slowly drain- with those sad eyes closed, he seems normal again. It was gone for a mere moment.

"There was a place I knew once where the people were happy. They bustled street to street not in hurry for their jobs but in excitement to reach the next place. They lived lives of logical debate and joyous creation of a million things in a day, great or small. Children played in the streets and everyone was fed and kept well by expert hands. The seasons brought beautiful blooms and lovely cool breezes. I often walked the streets with my friends just to talk to them. So very unlike this place where the cold and wind bite at every exposed hint of skin and the people's word bring the next spear to shortly follow. It was peaceful, happy, vibrant, and whole.

... Unfortunately, the calamity ended it. The ruins are there to wander, but the people were what I loved, and they are gone. Only a few individuals left, and they are all very different to how I knew them before. I would go back to that place. To those people. Stay there in that moment as long as I could." It isn't a lie. A calamity did end that place. Just... Not the calamity that Morganaux would believe he meant. It was as close as he could get to the real truth.

He opens his eyes and lowers his head to level once more, and his gaze has lost that haunted quality. Once more, he seems just a friendly and light wandering nobleman, albeit a little more ragged in some undefinable way than before Morganaux had asked.

"But you did not ask for a tale of my personal grief. I'm sure you wanted something lighter. In lieu of time travel, I would likely head to Thavnair. Do you know of it?"

Ah, how wistful Morganaux appeared. He played the part of an exotic songbird in a gilded cage terribly well, with his eyes cast lost on some nonexistent feature, his posture so graceful. Emelian could almost see the painting one could make from the sight if so inclined, and the thought brings a small smile to his face. Painting wasn't something he was terribly inclined to do, but he dearly loved to collect them. In Garlemald, his favored painter to commission had been a man named Arhems, who had made such delicate and powerful paintings, full of life and care. Perhaps he would find someone similar in Ishgard. And if he did, well... It was only customary to get a few paintings of one's spouse, no? Something to consider.

"How unfortunate... But you managed regardless. And what an inspiring tale you spun. Both to leave, and on your return- why, I'm sure there are ballads already. Of course, I've only heard it after it passed the ears and lips of some twenty others in all likelyhood- I'm sure the truth would be far more rousing."

Emelian watches Morganaux take a breath and compose himself, listens to his words. How easily his walls were coming down. Not unlike taking a hammer and chisel to his facade, with just as much care and attention paid to the angle and force used, only to find the rock was softer than expected. Not a bad thing, by any means- in contrast, he was fascinated, being given just enough to prompt further action, and not so much to grow bored with lack of effort. Oh, this would be a fun one.

And as if in confirmation to the thought, Morganaux leans in and teases, and Emelian gives a bright laugh, quiet but still clear in pleasant surprise. "Ah, such high offers! I am honored, truly. And I will take a macaron, but not-" He punctuates with lightly plucking one from the tray, "- your last. A proper gentleman would never be so brutish, to shamelessly take one's final macaron. Indeed, perish the thought."

He takes a neat bite, and shifts in his seat, making himself more relaxed. "What would you like to know?"

[its-all-just-ink-man]

I am pleased to announce that I officially have a new Bendy oc!

Behold Soulless Alice. Look upon her, and run for your life.

why yes i did take inspiration from Borkis from BATDS why do u ask

Cw: this gets kinda gruesome

She is a ruthless killer who can't be reasoned with. A bit twisted, she enjoys games of cat and mouse that end with her killing whatever or whoever she's been chasing. She prefers to eat the bones of whatever she kills but she'll take organs every now and then, so she doesn't often go for searchers and prefers to pursue anything that clearly has a skeletal structure. Lost Ones, Borises, the Butcher Gang, the occasional human that wanders in... But even she knows better than to pursue the Ink Demon. She won't try to attack him because her instincts tell her he can easily kick her ass, but she does like to mess with him by trying to get him to chase her and then hiding from him. She's like a cat in that she clearly lacks humanity of any sort, but she knows what crime is and she does it on purpose.

She likes playing with her food before killing it, and leaving behind signs of her presence like leaving a corpse with several bones or other parts torn out of it and a halo roughly drawn on the wall above said corpse in ink or blood. She also enjoys music. She can be distracted by turning on a radio or record player. She'll stay there listening to it until the song ends, and she'll hum/sing any song she hears enough times to learn, but typically just a few measures of it over and over rather than the whole song.

She hates losing her prey and having to settle for eating searchers when she can't find any vertebrates to prey on.

She was a first and failed attempt at creating a real life version of Alice Angel, and one of the deciding factors that future creations absolutely NEEDED a soul. Unlike the Ink Demon, she was hostile from the start, immediately attempting to kill Thomas Connor the second she laid came out of the Ink Machine and laid eyes on him. Lucky for Thomas that he's a big strong guy and was able to fight her off and lock her up before she could hurt anyone else.

She can mimic human speech(and noises made by other ink creatures in the studio), but she can't actually understand it. She can remember words and if she hears a word she's heard before, she might say the last sentence she heard that used the word in question, but it's all just sounds to her. However, she understands some sounds mean different things, and has figured out what words/sounds to make in order to lure prey. When she was locked up in the infirmary, Thomas had to figure out how to soundproof the room because she wouldn't stop making noise that sounded like screaming laughter, and once she learned the words "help me" and figured out it would get someone to come to whoever said it, she started using it. Some hapless soul once made the mistake of answering her call for help and opening the door, and they were found on the floor later, torn to pieces, with a halo drawn on the wall above them in their blood mixed with ink. Thomas had to catch her, lock her up once more, and muffle the room so it wouldn't happen again. At some point she got out again, but by then she'd figured out how to hide so she wouldn't be caught again.

Like other ink creatures, she doesn't have much object permanence and you can hide from her in a little miracle station. Just be quick to get the hell out of the area when you leave so she doesn't find you again.

Uhh yeah. If you're wandering in Joey Drew Studios and you see this... RUN.

[xxdragonwriterxx]

🔥Where Is Your Rider?🔥

A/N: HEY EVERYONE!!! So, I just wanted to thank you guys for the massive amount of support you guys have given me recently, I just managed to reach a pretty significant follower count!!! I don’t want to specify the number because I don’t want to make this into a competition, but I’m so happy and grateful for all of you guys and the love and support you have shown me! As promised, I plan to celebrate with a face reveal! I’ll specify when I’m going to do it (as I don’t know when I won’t be busy, lol) but it will happen soon! For now, enjoy this super angsty short one-shot I have written for you guys! This was supposed to be a really short drabble but because I have no self control whatsoever, this ended up being nearly 3,000 words instead of the 500 I planned for it. Also, this was inspired by the two songs, “Where is Your Rider?” and “Pale White Horse” by the Oh Hellos! I hope you enjoy, and again, thank you guys so much!!! ❤️❤️❤️

🐉 Song Recommendation: “Pale White Horse” By: The Oh Hellos 🐉

Word Count: ~2.8k

~~~

Levi braced his hands on his knees, panting so hard his throat burned with dry fire. That had been close. Too close. To say that the expedition had been a nightmare would’ve been an understatement. It had been an absolute disaster. What was supposed to be a simple mission to retrieve some supplies from an abandoned battle station outside the walls had turned into chaos quicker than anyone could’ve ever anticipated as abnormals had surrounded them on all sides. Levi had tried his best to protect as many of his soldiers as he could, but even Humanity’s Strongest Soldier had been overwhelmed by the vast number of titans. Erwin had called for the retreat only minutes into the expedition, and yet they had still lost more men on this mission alone than they had during the past six months.

Levi closed his eyes, willing the tears back against the images of his fallen comrades, their broken bodies and screams of his name as they were devoured right in front of him. He had to stay strong, just for a little while longer. As soon as he got back within the walls and was able to retreat to his office, he would be allowed to break, to let loose the torrent of emotions that threatened to overwhelm him. But for now, he had to be the pillar of strength that his remaining soldiers could look up to for hope and reassurance.

He sighed deeply, forcing down the bile that rose in the back of his throat, and raised his head, his eyes still closed as he prepared what he was going to say to his squad. When he finally felt ready enough to face them, he turned with his head held up high to the pitiful number of soldiers left on the field. He opened his mouth to talk when all of a sudden, he noticed something.

Her squad wasn’t back yet.

Levi’s eyes widened almost imperceptibly, his mouth hung open as the words of his quickly prepared speech were immediately thrown out the window, his mind clouded with worry.

“Where’s Captain (Y/N)? And her squad?” Levi asked, prompting the men around him to stop what they were doing and look to their raven-haired superior. It was obvious that Captain (Y/N) and Captain Levi were together, that much was apparent from Levi’s subtle favoritism and soothed demeanor when she was around, but their relationship was often overlooked due to the professional manner in which they regarded each other when working during the day. Nobody was privy to what occurred behind closed doors - the clingy, loving nature that Levi adopted around (Y/N) when they were alone.

Levi felt a cold tremor trickle down his spine when nobody answered, some of their faces paling as they suddenly remembered their Captain’s relationship, panic laced in their eyes when they realized that nobody could answer Levi’s question. “Did anybody see where they went? Or could make a guess on which direction they could’ve gone?”

Levi tried to keep his voice steady when silence once again answered him, only the soft murmuring of the cadets asking each other for information filling the space. His breathing quickened and shallowed, making him feel light-headed, but he shook the feeling away. He needed to stay focused if he was going to find her. She was going to be alright, she had to be. He wouldn’t accept any other option.

“Alright then, everybody stay here. Commander Erwin should be arriving with the rest of you in a moment. When he gets here, someone tell him that I’ve gone to look for them.”

He whirled on his heel when he was met with murmurs of acceptance, aiming for his horse until a quick flash of movement caught the corner of his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks when he realized it was the movement of a horse racing for them, its hooves striking the ground with every beat as it galloped for them in a panic. Cold dread washed over Levi as the horse got closer, immediately recognizing the silvery white coat of (Y/N)’s stunning mare.

Levi was frozen in fear for the first time in his life as the horse came barreling towards him; riderless. He managed to snap out of it and quickly moved to intercept the horse, using his hands to jolt the frantic horse to a stop. Levi cooed at the mare, murmuring soft words of comfort as he approached her as slowly and non-threateningly as possible. When she had finally calmed down enough for him to touch her, Levi carefully curled his fingers around her reins and stood back to get a good look at the animal.

Her nostrils were flaring with every harsh breath she took, panting with both fear and exertion. Her eyes were wide enough to flash the whites around her irises at him, her gaze darting all around them as if expecting something to jump out at her. Levi felt his stomach clench hard enough to rip a whimper from him when he saw that her once gleaming silver coat was now soaked in sweat, mud, and fresh blood. Levi took a shuddering breath, his eyes closing.

“Danika, where is your rider?”

The mare’s only response was to jerk her head in panic, her ears pinned as she tried to rip herself from his iron grip. Levi bared his teeth, a few stray tears sliding down his cheeks. “WHERE THE FUCK IS YOUR RIDER!?”

He knew shouting would only make things worse, but he couldn’t help himself, his fury and paralyzing fear driving him to the edge of insanity. Where was she? She had to be here, he wouldn’t accept this, couldn’t accept this. She was alive and well and perfectly fine, her horse was just acting crazy. It had to be some kind of trick, some kind of illusion meant as a punishment for the lives of the men he had lost.

He rubbed his eyes but to his horror, the image of blood soaking Danika’s fur didn’t disappear. He wanted to believe that it was Danika’s blood, that the poor animal had just been clawed up in battle, but he knew it wasn’t hers. She had no external wounds to speak of and the blood was pooled on top of her saddle and splashed along her flank rather than gouged from her flesh.

More tears started to stream down his face, the air in his throat hitching with every shaky breath he took. It wasn’t possible. No. She was alive. (Y/N) was alive. The love of his life was alive. Levi hung his head, his hair falling to curtain his expression as he choked on another sob. “Danika, please. Please. Where is your rider? Where is (Y/N)? She was with you, right? She has to be around here somewhere…”

He knew he must look deranged, talking to a horse and muttering to himself, but he didn’t care. All he cared about, in that moment, was finding out where the fuck his lover was. Another sob ripped through his body, his eyes squeezing shut even harder as more tears fell from behind his lids. He didn’t want to accept it, he couldn’t accept it, so why was his heart shattering as if he already had?

The sudden touch of a warm muzzle brushing against his face made him flinch and look up, only to be met with the sight of (Y/N)’s silver mare, watching him with a deeply sorrowful expression that mirrored his own, as if she too was grieving the loss of her rider. Levi wanted to scream, wanted to chase the mare into the woods, wanted to slash titans until his body gave out, but he knew he couldn’t do any of those things. It wasn’t the horse’s fault, no matter how much he wanted someone to blame.

“Please,” he whispered, his fingers coming up to curl against Danika’s soft muzzle. “Please tell me she’s alive. Tell me she made it back with you, you just got scared and left her behind. Tell me that she’s going to be okay. I-I can’t live without her, please.”

He was begging now but he didn’t notice. He just wanted some damn reassurance, some comfort, some support - all of the things that (Y/N) usually provided for him when he felt helpless. But (Y/N) wasn’t with him and he was floundering. His eyes were glossy with tears as he looked deep into the mare’s eyes, begging with both his voice and his gaze for the horse to give him something, anything to work with.

“Levi,” the deep voice right beside him made him jump, too lost in his hysteria to notice that Erwin had slipped up next to him, his face dark and grim. Levi’s eyes were frantic as they searched Erwin’s gaze. He knew the Commander had seen (Y/N) last, her squad had been flanking his during their initial departure. Erwin swallowed. Hard.

“Levi, I’m so sorry but…” The Commander dug around in his pocket until he found what he was looking for and pulled out a small piece of fabric with (Y/N)’s name written on the back. It was (Y/N)’s wings of freedom patch. Levi carefully took the patch in both of his palms, tears flooding his cheeks as his whole body started to shake.

“S-She saved her squad, Levi. They were being chased by a hoard of abnormal titans and she darted off to act as bait. Her p-plan was solid, but there were just too many of them and they overpowered her,” Erwin said, his jaw clenching when he stuttered a few times, fighting back his own tears. He lifted a hand and rested it gently on his friend’s shoulder, squeezing once. “Levi, s-she’s gone.”

Levi immediately shook his head violently in response, refusing to believe it. She wasn’t dead, she couldn’t be. She had promised him that she would stay alive, that she would never leave him alone, especially after all he had lost. She promised. Erwin walked forward, hands outstretched to keep Levi from doing something rash, but he wasn’t fast enough as the raven crashed to the ground, collapsing under the weight of his grief.

A loud, miserable howl tore from his throat and filled the valley, making the soldiers around him flinch as they silently mourned, a few of them even beginning to shed tears as they watched their normally stoic, steadfast Captain break for the first time since they’d met him. Levi ignored everyone as he sobbed out for the world to hear, his head buried in his hands and his body shaking violently with the force of his sorrow.

He didn’t want to accept it, didn’t want to acknowledge what everyone was telling him was fact. He didn’t want to think about anything but getting her back in his arms as soon as possible. It was all he wanted, to feel her warmth pressed lovingly against him, to hear her murmur gentle words filled with more love than he’d ever expected to receive in his life, to see her eyes light up brightly whenever she saw him. Without her, he was nothing. He knew that if he accepted this, that he would be accepting the loss of his very soul. It was too much for him to handle, he had finally been broken.

The pain was unbearable, he couldn’t take it anymore. Without (Y/N) by his side, he had no will to live. Fuck fighting the titans, fuck finding a new, better world, fuck being Humanity’s Strongest Soldier. Fuck everything. None of it was worth it if (Y/N) wasn’t wrapped safely in his arms.

“Levi…”

He heard Erwin coo at him, his hand outstretched to guide Levi to his feet, but the raven quickly ripped his arm from the Commander’s grasp, his eyes filled with an icy fire that would make Death itself shiver.

“Lead the retreat, take my men back to the walls.”

“Levi, what are you-?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Levi snapped aggressively as he tore his cape from his back and draped it over Danika’s blood soaked saddle.

“Levi, (Y/N)’s dead. You need to come back with us, if you don’t, you won’t make it.”

“That’s the point,” Levi said as he pulled himself into the saddle, once again avoiding Erwin’s attempt to grasp him.

The blonde’s eyes widened to the size of saucers, his jaw dropping at his Captain’s words. “If you think for one fucking second that I am going to let you kill yourself over some girl-”

“Don’t you dare speak about (Y/N) that way,” Levi said, his voice a deadly calm. “She is not just ‘some girl’. She’s the love and light of my life and I’m not leaving without her. I’m going to bring her back, no matter what it takes.”

Erwin opened his mouth to argue, but wasn’t even able to get the first word out before Levi had kicked Danika into a gallop, aiming right for the forest she had come from just minutes earlier. Nobody could do anything but watch as Humanity’s Strongest Soldier tore off into the woods, dread settling in their stomachs at the thought of having to fight without his support. Because they all knew, even if Levi made it, he would never be the same. Unless (Y/N) was somehow magically still alive, Levi would never be the same man he once was. His responsibilities and future didn’t matter to him anymore, not if they didn’t include his love.

Erwin sighed and shouted for his men to retreat, knowing that sending more men to retrieve Levi would only end in more casualties, by both titans and Levi himself. All he could do was trust that his friend could hold his own and would make it back. The soldiers of the remaining squads did as he asked without hesitation but the air was thick with tension as they galloped back to the walls, unsure of how to process the loss of their two strongest Captains.

[devilslinks]

# 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔 !

— 𝗖𝗟𝗨𝗕 𝗙𝗘𝗩𝗘𝗥 | 𝗡𝗘𝗦𝗦𝗔, 𝗧𝗢𝗣 𝗠𝗔𝗟𝗘 𝗥𝗘𝗔𝗗𝗘𝗥.

wc; ( 3.2k )

synopsis; your best friend, raihan and you find yourselves eager to get intoxicated in one another's company. what better place than a night-club, dim lights, the overwhelmin' musk of the various alcoholic beverages; it's every guy pairs wet dream. that is until raihan gets shit-faced and excuses himself to the restroom while he pukes up his spiked guts. only to return to watch his sister take you balls deep, down her throat.

a/n: no brain, only nessa and her magical throat 🤝

warnings. MINORS DNI, NSFW CONTENT, family!au, raihan and nessa are siblings, club sex, intoxication, dirty talk, the name princess, deep throating, oral (m receiving), throat bulge, throat fucking, cum eating, flirty!nessa, jealous!raihan, exhibitionism, voyeurism.

euphoria.

that was the only word that came mind when raihan and you got involved in recreational activities like you did. galar was a go big or go home type of region, and the two of you stayed true to that motto. the itchy, messily thrown together suits that matched all the way down to the type of socks you had on— the overexcessive amounts of booze, and the loud music which just barely drowned out the fits of laughter and discussion littered throughout the packed club. as soon as the doors opened, flooding your senses with nothing but the sickly sweet, aroma of sex and other intoxicating chemicals; that's how you knew the had night begun.

the two of you had been indulging, before you arrived on the scene— time seemed to blur together with head-spinning speeds or come to a full halt at the worst of moments. you don't even know how long you'd been locking eyes with the transparent shapes and manufactured blurbs dancing across the wall a good, twenty, maybe thirty feet adjacent to your seat at the drink counter. the weight of something too heavy for your alcohol infused mind to register until the bar hostess was practically brewing with irritation at your non-compliance with her attempts to have you regain control of your dazed state; sat lazily in-between your pointer finger and thumb, respectively.

hell you don't even remember waddling over to the bar with the company you had brought with you. but you didn't mind, the painfully challenging to recall memories mattered not when there was already another drink swirling around the rim of your shot-glass. raihan's shifty frame wiggling in and out of your peripherals as you tug the half-empty cup to the skin of your lips, craning your head back to knock down whatever liquid remained at the bottom. the delicious burn of toxins coated the lining of your throat, trails of steamy fluid leaving their mark as the mystery liquor made it way down your esophagus. whatever it was, it packed a punch and wasted no time forcing your lips to curve into a bitter sneer— eyebrows shadowing your face in a sour demeanor, as you used the hem of your suit sleeve to whisk away any spilt mixture that tarnished your cherry red lips.

you hardly have the chance to open your mouth for a second time to address the swaying body, huddled closer the counter than it is to your own. raihan is a total mess, loopsy, and feverishly hot skin to compliment— he's stained a harsh, sickly green against his natural melanin tone. doubling over in either pain or the sudden flow of too many drinks pooling in his system; whatever the emotion he was enduring was, he wasted not a second longer before hustling off into the large gathering of people. disappearing before his lips could slur the final word, missing from his dialect.

“hh..h fuck- my stomach is gonna explode, i'll catch you-” his gravely tone churning into the backdrop just as quickly as he initiated the conversation; the familiar hum of lyrics to a song you couldn't quite place your finger on replaced whatever words raihan had previously gargled out before dashing off towards the public restrooms.

your head feels like it weighs a metric ton this late into the night, threatening to tumble forward as if your neck had lost any and all of it's support. your eyelids pulling down roughly over your eyes like window shades before the sudden wave of loneliness hit you like a truck. fiddling with the collar of your dress-shirt was entertaining enough to fill the void that was the now empty stool, where your best friend once resided. but that quick fix subsided rather easily and the once overwhelming presence of boredom had returned to take a seat.

and then, so did she.

“shit, rai- back so soon? you alright?” your vision was foggy and adorned with blurry bits here and there— but it was still evident enough to make out that, whoever was indeed now in your friend's seat, was not the person you had chauffeured to the club with.

“damn, do i really look, that bad? it's me, y/n. the painfully better looking sibling. what did that idiot put in your drink?” the speech is followed by a laugh. it was a warm and inviting chuckle, one that seemed to relax every muscle in your liquor tense body the moment she parted her spit silken lips. you had been in her company earlier that evening, which made it a tad easier for your incoherent mindset to process it. but nevertheless it was hard not to distinguish who the women paying you a visit was at this point, even if you hadn't engaged with her previously; nessa was infamous for those enchanting looks. and in your dumbified state, those gorgeous navy locks tied together by aquamarine highlights were one of a kind and stuck out like a sore thumb amongst the room of normal presenting citizens. though your brain didn't want to pick-up any of your surroundings, you found it quite easy to fawn over her in that ebony dress and the way it hugged her curves in all the right places.

“fuck.. nes' when'd you get so.. so.” you couldn't even find the energy or hell, the words to cough up the remainder of the sentence, you were so taken aback by how stunning she was, even behind your bleary, drunk eyes. but nessa wasn't oblivious— you were sure she had picked up the hint you had layed out so bluntly, and the warm palm slowly inching up your clothed thigh secured that suspension for you.

“not even so much as a greeting? you didn't even buy me a drink first; asshole.”

her words are firm, yet so light hearted at the same time; but just enough to set your arousal over the edge. your headspace so vulnerable to teasing that you're certain she knew what she was doing to your conflicted mind and body. her sly fingers are enough to coax you to shuffle your bar-stool closer to her's— not a single word wriggled around your throat in response, instead the tangy after-tase of alcohol still heavy on your tongue distracted you and you were sure the whole bar could acknowledge your intoxicated musk.

her features held so many different emotions at once, as she pryed you for a reply— trying to tell you each one obscured behind that pretty face, way too quickly for you to decipher. her brows furrowed quizzically, one tilted slightly higher than the other as her half lidded doe-eyes stared up at you like prey at a final stand off with their predator; just humbly surrending their body to the circle of life.

“hah, you're one to.. talk, nes' just because 'm out of it- doesn't mean my numb skin can't feel your heavy hand toying with my waistband.” the both of you swiftly changed direction, heads leering down at nessa's free hand. you were infact correct, you observed as the woman swirled shapes into the expensive leather of your belt. pulling bits between her fingers now and then as she silently struggled with the metalic buckle. your groin swelled tightly, gripping your boxers closer to the fat bulge behind your suit pants; it would take an idiot not to take notice of the wrinkled fabric secured around your aching dick. her skin felt like a furnace, contrasting your slightly cooler temperature— but with her body pressing so desperately to yours, you were sure the warmth from her melted over onto your feverish flesh. the damp, sheen of anxious sweat made the fabric of your suit, dewy. sticking slightly against your hellish skin.

“mm, i guess i was wrong about the greeting part— hello there, you look happy to see me.” not a hint of shame obscured her voice, you're miserably watching nessa shift her weight as she now palms at the mound between your legs. you've seen countless renditions of this night loop in your head, but now that the scenario is a reality; it's agonizing to try to contain your primal urges, face to face. it's a chore not to profess all the vile things you wanna carry out with her, but she's already one step ahead. that glare is dangerous, it makes you feel like she's trying convey that the two of you are already in on something devious.

“let me take care of you.. y/n.”

“let me treat you, nessa.”

the both of you drawl out in what would be perfect unison if your mind wasn't foggy and running slower than usual. you had both finally voiced the elephant in the room, the one which was just positively dripping with thick tension up until this moment in time. you're still squirming under nessa's grip, she can feel you whine and pant everytime she gives your cock a light squeeze between her fingers and it's not long before the two of you are absent from the bar and clawing at one another's linen around the corner. closest to any vacant area within eye-shot. well, as vacant as a small room seperated from the bustling club-life can get.

did you think the night would come to a close with your friend's sister skillfully sucking the soul out of your sloppy cock? not in a million years, but you'd be damned if you didn't want it to end on any other note. nessa fell to her knees before the two of you even made it out of view— planting herself in-between your thighs like she was a trained professional; no flaws in her technique as her tongue slid obediently from her mouth and latches onto the moist fabric masking her mouth's destination. nessa's fingers are long and slender, as they snake up your hips and meet at the belt tangled around your waist. you can feel your cock pumping against the seams of your pants, the uncomfortable sensation making it appear as though you'd rip through the cloth if your cock was imprisoned a second longer.

with the head-splitting atmosphere of the club playlist stretching and stuffing your ears to the brim with fast pitched edm that made your skull pound and jitter. as well as the added hum of the gym leader whispering inaudible nothings against your bulge as she at last pushed your pants down, and past your ankles; material getting caught on the fancy design of your shoes. you felt like you were on the brink of death, but the enticing appeal of hooking up with your best friend's relative kept your iron-will alive long enough to rough it out and pass the irritation that came with being black-out drunk.

your storm of worries fizzled just as quickly as they sprung up, maybe it was the alcohol but you swear this girl had the hands of the divine; you were washed away into infatuation once more. nessa's teeth hike up your boxers until they meet the waistline, pulling down on the hem with a familiar aggressiveness as she relishes in the way your big dick pops to life and looms over her lustful features; all chubby 'n decorated with veins fer' her viewing pleasure.

“shit.. i'm gonna have so much fun with your cock. you wanna make your stupid slut already? my mouth is just asking for it.” the first piece is low and almost voiced as if it was meant for her ears only— but the second half is most definitely directed at you; as she tilts her head to plant a few delicate lovebites along the base of your shaft. fingers looping gracefully around your hilt as she admires the girth you carry.

“fuck..” you hiss, cock twitching violently as you pleaded with sinful eyes. she had barely started her reign over your dick before guttural groans and mewls slid past your lips. the sensation of her tiny tastebuds as they trailed over the little glob of pre-cum that drooled from your cockhead was insatiable. the sudden action sent your hips forward almost automatically, like they instinctively acted on impulse; it felt so right. merely a few inches breached past her lips but there was enough speed and prowess in your thrust to drag a surprise gag from the mouth attached to your dick.

impatience was on the horizon, the buzz from copious amounts of alcohol had knocked down a few pegs. you were now fully aware of the figure positioned at your feet like she was praying for a god, and soon you'd make her chant like she was being fucked by one as well. broad fingers clamped down, squishing both sides of her jaw while simultaneously easing your length deeper, and deeper down her gullet like your dick was her last meal on earth. you throw your head back before letting it fall forward against the wall, watching those desperate dark iris' pool with puddles of lust that seem to be neverending.

“come'on princess, you know how badly you want this-- you gonna let me ruin this pretty throat?” you thumb over her warm cheeks, eyes glossy and threatening to ruin the simple makeup she applied before she arrived. the uncomfortable stretch of her esophagus molding as your cock fills the empty gaps in her throat with every inch you have; is one that isn't unfamiliar to her. dragging your pulsating veins along the dip in her mouth, her tongue greedily laps up any and all of the skin yet to be consumed by her.

“jesus.. fuck, oh fuck. take it, nes'. shit.” your cock fully slips into her, heavy and swollen as it spears her right down the middle; eyes rolling back into her skull as it's just too fucking big. bigger than anything she's previously had inside of her, anyway. your core bleeds with spots of warmth as you take the time to bask in the way every individual wall in her mouth feels as it constricts you almost painfully. sucking you in before she slides you back out of her throat once more; repeating the tedious cylce that has the two of you in a heated frenzy.

despite all the sudden and erratic pain, nessa bobs her head in sync, coaxing you to go as deep as humanly possible. rocking your hips as they snap against her face with every good fuck you give her— watching yourself grow rapidly from the outside of her neck, the moist skin now holding a curved bump near the middle. nessa takes the initiative. removing a hand from one of your thighs, she uses four fingers to lightly push and stroke the bulge; almost as if she was jerking you off while you ravaged her inards.

she knew exactly what she was doing, and it had you riled the fuck up.

you picked up the pace, delirious from the amount of stimulation your precious cock was receiving. with your erection fully encased by her face and your dick bouncing off the gummy walls of her gullet, you could tell her throat was already forming bruises with a throbbing soreness to compliment, time come the morning. your rough hands dig behind the back of her head, hands feeling lost amongst her ocean of hair— beautiful locks just perfect for pulling. you yank her face forward, lowering yours as well to not only established authority but to get your point across to the cockdrunk slut mindlessly slobbering all over your messy shaft.

“mfph-- please, cum.. i want- all!” you can just barely string together what sounds like whines for more— i guess she can sense just how close the knot in your stomach is to bursting because she grips the back of your thighs and tugs them forward with whatever coherent muscle strength she has remaining. just in time for the tension in your core to coil tighter and tighter, the lowerhalf of your body trembling with all the signs of an incoming orgasm.

“does my dumb little girl wanna be fucked, that, bad? hah, fuck nes' what would your brother think?” you mock so cruelly, totally disregarding the fact that there is a slim possibility, raihan is searching for the lost pair. and it just so happens that nessa's poor little brother had been observing for a little over half the engagement. fist wrapped around his pathetic cock, suit collar pulled between his fangs, ocean blue eyes fixated on you; your hip strength, the way you rolled and plunged balls deep into his sibling. his body felt so empty, only riding his high off the two of yours', praying he'd finish before you caught him lurking like a sleaze. it was so unfair, why did nessa get to taste your sultry cock before he did?

you can feel the bass reverberate in nessa's throat as her lips nip at your hilt, impatiently trying to babble out a response adequate enough to your liking. her mind is flying, no correct sense of direction as it attempts to form a reply, but all that breaks past the barrier is a few pitiful mewls. her nose is burried in your pubes and she's lost all feeling in her throat, only motivating her to show off the lump on her neck even more. you watch as your length disappears into the depths of her mouth for the hundredth time that night, hands pushing down the lacy strap of her dress in a last ditch effort to find something other than her hair to latch onto for support. her scalp is on fire and she can only accept the stinging sensation as the roughness of your thrusts increase in magnitude.

the club is filled to the brim with lewd moans and needy pants; those of which included raihan's. every inch of her esophagus is being used— you happily ram your cock down her throat a few more times, your balls were quivering wildly. contracting and spasming, boiling with a fat wad of potent seed all ready to venture inside of her. nessa squeals, feeling a thick bulge travel up the length of your cock, up to the head and straight on her tongue; some spurts flowing down her neck while the rest collected in her mouth. painting her insides a translucent white that would surely stain.

just for good measure, nessa deep throats your empty dick with a few simple strokes; a white, sticky ring forming around the base of your shaft after she detached from your dick. a lewd pop, followed by a line of stringy saliva connected her lips to your bottomed out cock before she ruined the trail by letting her tongue lull from behind her teeth. letting you get a nice overhead view of her empty mouth, watching as the last bits of your load traveled down her throat and out of sight for good.

“god.. such a g'girl. you sucked on my cock so nicely, princess. wasn't that a way to end the night?” a blissed out smile creeps over your face, marveling in the aftermath you caused. you gave the right side of her face a few taps from your cock— dried tears and sloppy makeup tainting her cheeks. cum dripping from the corners of her mouth, as a cocktail of her own spit and your semen coats the back of her throat. it was all one big look of;

euphoria.

[forbidding-souda]

Forgive me if this is random but could I have some hhhhhh Kaito X Leon relationship headcanons?

Kaito Momota x Leon Kuwata relationship headcanons

yolo my godfather bought me carls jr and the carls jr barbeque sauce tastes so much different and it's in a new package. why. it's kinda yucky. why change it. i'm lost.

-Mod Souda

❤ Kaito is three inches taller than him I would just like to say that off the bat.

❤ Kaito would give him cheek kisses all the time. He's also probably the type of guy to grab his partner by the back of the neck to bring them into a kiss (such a manly thing).

❤ Leon is more interested in the astrology about space rather than like literally anything else. He is the type to wish upon a star (perhaps Kaito could tell?).

❤ Kaito being all into space and stuff makes it so much easier to write songs about him.

❤ In term of sports Kaito will suddenly turn into a team manager and start giving him advice as if he's not literally the SHSL Baseball player. "When you train your form is awful!-"

❤ Whenever girls walk up and flirt with Leon, Kaito just stands there awkwardly and his first thought isn't even jealous it's "why won't they flirt with me, too?".

❤ It'll be hard to get Kaito away from that man. Oh he's at a game? Kaito is watching it. He's at a concert? Kaito is there too. He's sick? Kaito doesn't care, he's still going to be hanging out with him.

❤ Kaito does push-ups with him on his back lol.

❤ Imagine Leon waking up and Kaito is just on the floor next to him in a plank position lmfao.

❤ Kaito is much more likely to lose house keys compared to Leon but I think a few times both of them have lost them and there was no access to the inside of the house.

❤ ^ Leon would have opted to break the window and Kaito wouldn't have stopped him.

❤ Kaito would give dramatic speeches trying to encourage him to go to practice.

❤ Leon does not "hold him back" at all - Kaito is still completely free-willed, as he has found somebody with the same amount of passion and prerogative as he has.

❤ With Kaito, Leon doesn't really have any more need to impress girls, so his motivation towards being a musician has dwindled a little (Kaito might present a like slideshow about how he shouldn't give up on his dreams).

❤ Kaito is extremely nice and open-hearted, which Leon is extremely attracted to. He loves somebody who is supportive (and sexy as fuck-).

❤ ^ Kaito also being oblivious so sexual topics is something that Leon likes a lot since Leon is canonly into like. "pure hearted" people.

❤ Even though Leon is mildly hot-headed, once Kaito gets close to him, he stops being the victim of his outrages. Leon finds a soft spot in his heart for him and would start to feel bad if he ever said anything upsetting (especially with that sad looks Kaito gets on his face).

❤ I think these two are a really good match. Leon has this whole like ulterior motive thing going on with the careers he wants to take, and Kaito is good at analyzing people, so Kaito could just like break Leon's whole aura down in a blink of an eye.

❤ ^ Which he probably does and then Leon gets hella irritated with him LMFAO.