If I say something right now about the recent russian attacks on the objects of Ukrainian culture it's going to be a long post full of curses.
Instead, I will say this: next time you want to read a book from russian literature or praise russian culture, think about how much culture we will never get to experience because of russians.
It has to be a romantic story like there's never been before, with beef of Qu and drukharu Homunculus fighting over heart and flesh of Y/N reader and reshaping them in freaky way to show their lovely obsession.
Hey, guys, I had this comic for a while but just recently started to read it. And sometimes it's a weird to hold in hands comic book which is three times older than you, but anyway
What do you feel while holding old comics in your hands, hm?
I'm not a religious person myself... But I'm tired as heck of those bastards who again and again are trying to ruin my home and it's history, it's culture, it's architecture. Lavra is a really unique place. But russia and it's own "velikaya cultura" doesn't care. They are able only to ruin and to steal. Unfortunately the world continues to search something great and good in russia, "mysterious russian soul", tolstoy, dostoevky and other garbage.
Primarchs as mystical critters and monsters PART THREE!
To see part one tap here pls
To see part two tap here pls
I surprised myself that recently I am getting more and more active, lol.
Sanguinius – Strix. I mean, yes, angel could also fit. BUT. More dark side of Sanguinius should be explored too, and owl-like bloodsucking demon who originate from roman legengs suits perfectly. Yeah, I headcanon him as white owl.
Roboute – Kirin. My friend helped me with this one and I CAN SEE A VISION. You know, Roboute is quite balanced man, and kirins are being of harmony which can be tied with Roboute's love of order in world around him.
Jaghatai Khan – Centaur. Free spirited, mischievous and yet wise beings. In my opinion, it's 100% about Jaghatai and resonates with his love for wind, speed and freedom. Nothing else to add.
Lorgar – Potercha. Hear me out on this one. At first I need to explain. It's a feisty and cruel slavic spirit born from soul of child who was born dead or died in infantry. Or in later versions wasn't baptized. And in a few years can turn into Mavka(malicious forest cousin of mermaid) if not calmed down. I think it resonates well with him since he deeply intertwined with religion. In some way he also lost child led by pain and not helped by his parent and his only God. So he transforms into much more horrible being.
Rogal Dorn – Sermilissuaq. An aggressive spirit from Greenland, which looks like huge bear of ice and snow, who can easily devour a human. Considering Rogal's origin and his character of being bastion on two legs and kinda cold behaviour I can't see a reason why it's not him.(Couldn't find proper pic, sorry)
Magnus The Red – Sphynx. Egyptian riddle-liking entity who also quite knowledgeable and holds a path to a deeper secrets? Fits him well, since it both in aesthetics and knowledge liking reminds of Magnus.
Why does that scene between leman and Constantin in Prospero burns read like an overexcited puppy dog golden retriever boyfriend visiting his very serious important partner at work
Primarchs as mystical critters and monsters PART TWO!
Tap here to see part one!
The gap between posts is hideous, ik. But this time I decided to add pictures and I will update part one too.
Anyway, lets get to the bussines
Fulgrim – Phoenix. I think it's kinda predictable yet it represents him really well. Anything else need to be said here? Nah.
Mortarion – Morana. Slavic deity of life cycle, death, diseases and also of winter. I find it quite symbolical since Mortarion is a Nurgle's prince, and Nurgle is about stagnancy of a cycle of life and death aaand Mortarion's weapon is a scythe which is bith attribute of a Death and is about crops and time of them grow and being cut.(Yeah, I am yapper)
Horus – I(E)frit. Hear me, since I feel it matches well. Both are with fiery temper and origin and ifrits are prideful asf. And what was one of Horus weak spots? Yeah, his pride.
Vulkan – Cabeiri. Ancient deities of shady origins, though with connections to Hephaestus. Those are deities of fire and virility, also close with forge and respected in certain cults. (Couldn't find pic for him, sorry guys)
Angron – Tarasque. Huge and ferocious? Yeah. Dangerous to people around? Also true. I find it funny how Saint Martha is one who tamed beast and Lotara was one of few people he respected.
Perturabo – Chronos. Considering the planet where Perturabo came from, I think it fits well. Hateful toward his own father(s)? Yes. Hateful toward his own children? Also true. Circle of abuse ain't getting broken.
The Lion
He doesn’t play, he supervises developmental exercises. The child wants to play hide and seek and he agrees. They count to ten, turn around and he is simply gone, not behind the curtains or under the table, truly gone. Thirty minutes later the child is crying because they think daddy left forever until a shadow drops from the ceiling.
“I have won.”
The child screams and the Lion looks faintly alarmed. “…Wasn’t this the objective?”
Guilliman has to explain that hide and seek with toddlers is not meant to involve stealth doctrine or waiting in the ventilation shaft like a forest cryptid, the Lion takes notes. Next time he hides behind a chair with half his body visible.
“Daddy! I found you!” The child gasps.
“Impossible.” The Lion is emotionally wounded by the tactical failure but spiritually healed by their joy.
Fulgrim
Fulgrim’s child wants to play dress-up, within twenty minutes there are ribbons, pearls, tiny gloves, seven kinds of silk and Fulgrim has turned an innocent game into a full imperial runway production. The child toddles out wearing a sparkly cape and a paper crown, Fulgrim drops to one knee as though witnessing the birth of art itself. “Exquisite. Revolutionary. Trully daring!” he says.
The child demands he wear the pink tutu and Fulgrim does it, he doesn’t merely wear it, he serves. The child claps and Fulgrim spins dramatically. “For you, my little muse, I would shame empires.”
Perturabo
Perturabo’s child wants to build a pillow fort, he hears ‘siege architecture practical exam’ and begins by asking them about load bearing points.
“I want the blue blanket.” They reply and he nods solemnly.
The pillow fort starts small then Perturabo brings in measuring tools and a diagram, after an hour the living room contains a reinforced multilevel pillow citadel with crawl tunnels, curtain walls, snack storage and a moat made of plush animals.
“This is my castle.” The child says as they crawl inside with a juice box.
“Yes.” Perturabo, standing outside with a clipboard.
“You can come in too.”
He crawls in very carefully, knees sticking out, shoulders destroying one side wall.
“You’re too big.” The child pats his face. Perturabo stares at the collapsed section devastated until the child hands him a stuffed bunny. “You can guard.”
Perturabo spends the next four hours guarding the pillow fortress with murderous seriousness.
Jaghatai Khan
Jaghatai’s child wants to play ponies and he agrees immediately. Within five minutes, the ponies have names like Wind Breaker and Thunder Hoof and are racing across the furniture. He makes tiny saddles out of napkins and begins narrating a great migration across the living room carpet. The kid is delighted. “Again! Again!”
The next thing anyone knows they are both riding actual horses through the palace garden. Malcador sees them pass by a window, the kid is shrieking with joy and Jaghatai is laughing, there is a toy pony tied to his saddle like a sacred war banner.
“THIS ONE IS FASTEST” the child screams.
“THEN SHE SHALL LEAD THE HOST” Jaghatai answers.
Later the Emperor receives three complaints, two property damage reports and one drawing of a horse with lightning legs titled Daddy’s Friend.
Russ
Russ' child wants to play wolves, they crawl around the floor growling at each other.
“I’m the biggest wolf” the kid says.
Leman immediately drops onto his back. “Aye, you are the alpha.”
They climb onto his chest and howl, Russ howls back so loudly that three nearby windows crack, the kid laughs until they hiccup.
Then they decide he isn’t a wolf anymore but a mountain so they climbs him. Russ lies still on the floor while this tiny child scales him by grabbing his beard, armor straps, hair, nose and dignity. Every time they reach his shoulder he gently rolls over and says “Avalanche!”. The kid squeals and falls into a pile of furs. This repeats forty six times and at the end they fall asleep on top of him.
“No one move.” Russ whispers, he remains on the floor for six hours. Several Space Wolves enter, see him pinned by a sleeping toddler and treat it as a sacred vigil.
Dorn
The child wants to play blocks and Dorn sits down. He is prepared, he has blocks, patience and a plan. They stack three blocks, knock them down and giggle.
Dorn nods. “Demolition testing.”
They stack them again, sideways this time.
“Interesting.” Dorn’s eye twitches.
They put a triangle block at the bottom and a square on top. Dorn visibly suffers but he says nothing because they are happy.
“You build, daddy.” They hand him a block.
Dorn builds a perfect miniature fortress in six minutes. It has towers, gates, symmetrical walls and no unnecessary ornamentation. The child looks at it and places a tiny duck on the battlements.
Dorn stares at the duck. “The duck isn’t defensible.”
“He lives there.”
He nods after a long pause. “The duck is now the governor.” From that day forward every fortress he builds for them includes a duck tower.
Perturabo questions it once and Dorn replies dead serious.
“The duck is load-bearing.”
Konrad Curze
Konrad’s child wants to play tea party. He is sitting cross legged on the floor in a room full of dolls, tiny cups and one very suspicious teddy bear. The child pours imaginary tea and he accepts the tiny cup with both clawed hands. “Thank you” he whispers.
The doll beside him has been sentenced to death for treason.
“No, daddy, Mr. Buttons said sorry” the child says.
Konrad slowly turns toward the doll.“Did he.”
The child nods and Konrad leans very close to the doll. “I am watching you.”
The tea party continues and the child offers him a fake wooden biscuit. He pretends to eat it and the child beams, this does something terrible and unfamiliar inside his chest.
“You’re the princess.” the child says.
“...No.”
“You’re the princess.”
Konrad looks at the tiny plastic crown then at their hopeful face. Ten minutes later Sanguinius walks past the room and sees him wearing a glitter crown, sitting among plush animals, speaking in a rasping whisper. “The princess has seen the future, the kingdom falls by dawn.”
“No, daddy, the kingdom has cookies.” the child says.
Konrad pauses. “The kingdom may yet be spared.”
Sanguinius
Sanguinius’s child wants to play flying, he picks them up gently and lifts them into the air, wings spreading like sunrise.
“Higher!” They scream with joy.
“Not too high, little heart.”
“Higher!”
He gives in immediately and glides through the garden, slow and safe, their tiny hands buried in his hair.
The kid demands they rescue the stuffed rabbit from the “tower” (a table), Sanguinius approaches it with full mythic seriousness. “Fear not, noble rabbit, salvation comes.” He carries both the child and rabbit in a heroic arc through the room, everyone nearby stops to watch because it is objectively beautiful.
Horus watches from the doorway. “That child could ask him for Terra and he would give it.”
“She asked nicely.” Sanguinius replies.
Ferrus
The child wants to play dolls. Ferrus looks at the dolls and sees that they are poorly jointed and weak.
“These arms will break.”
“Her name is Princess Sparkle.” the child says.
Ferrus takes Princess Sparkle with grave respect and within an hour it has reinforced limbs, articulated fingers, a tiny metal spine and a faceplate that can withstand a hammer strike. The child loves it, Ferrus tries to look indifferent but fails.
They ask him to make a bed for the doll and Ferrus makes a bed, a chair, a tiny forge and a full working miniature workshop. The doll now has better equipment than some Legions.
“Daddy, she needs a friend.”
Ferrus looks at the remaining dolls and they are weak too. “Bring them all.” By evening the playroom contains an army of upgraded dolls with chrome limbs and terrifying durability. The child hugs his arm and Ferrus quietly makes Princess Sparkle a crown… It’s made of iron.
Angron
Angron’s child wants to play tag. “You run and I will chase slowly.” He kneels down and says with enormous seriousness. They run and Angron follows at the speed of a depressed refrigerator. “Raaah” he says carefully and the child shrieks with laughter. He reaches for them, misses on purpose and ends up smashing his hand through a table.
“Daddy, you broke it.”
Angron looks at the table then down at his own hand. “I did.”
They toddle back and pats his arm. “It’s okay, we can play gently.” He sits on the floor and the child shows him patty-cake.
Angron, who has killed armies, now sits cross legged learning how to clap hands softly. He gets it wrong the first time and claps too hard, blowing a cushion across the room. The child laughs anyway, by the end he is whispering the rhyme with deadly concentration.
Guilliman
The child wants to play office because they have seen Guilliman doing paperwork and have mistaken it for entertainment. Guilliman is devastated but supportive.
“What is your decree, my regent?”
They scribble on paper. “More cookies.”
“A popular measure but logistically complex.”
The child stamps the paper with a wooden block. “Approved.”
He reads it (it’s mostly spirals) and treats it as legally binding. Soon the entire household has been reorganized according to toddler law.
Guilliman starts drafting an implementation framework and the child puts a sticker on his forehead. “You work for me.”
He smiles softly. “I always have.”
Later, someone asks why there is a formal memo titled Household Edict Regarding Mandatory teddy bear Attendance.
“It passed through the proper channels.” Guilliman replies.
Mortarion
Mortarion’s child wants to play garden and he takes it extremely seriously. They go outside to a patch of stubborn soil and strange herbs, he shows them which plants are poisonous, which are medicinal and which ones bite back if you insult them.
He lets them wear tiny gloves and dig holes, the child names every worm and Mortarion remembers every worm name.
“This is Sir Wiggle.”
“Sir Wiggle is strong.” Mortarion says gravely.
They make him wear a flower crown and he stares into the distance like a man enduring public execution but doesn’t remove it. A Death Guard marine sees him and immediately looks away with survival instincts.
“You’re pretty” the child says.
“Unlikely” he mutters.
They add more flowers. He sits there, enormous and grim, covered in daisies, holding a watering can the size of a teacup.
“The garden smells nice.” the child says. Mortarion, who has never once been associated with a pleasant smell in his life, quietly decides this is the finest garden in the galaxy.
Magnus the Red
Magnus’s child wants a bedtime story and he is delighted. “Once, before the first turning of the empyrean spheres-” He begins.
“Princess.” They interrupt.
Magnus adjusts. “Once, before the first turning of the empyrean spheres, there was a princess-”
“Dragon.”
“-and a dragon, who represented the eternal hunger of hidden knowledge-”
“No, daddy, silly dragon.”
Magnus pauses, this is advanced literary critique. He changes course, the dragon now wears a hat, the child approves. He conjures glowing images in the air of castles, stars, moons and tiny dancing frogs. The child keeps demanding more frogs, the story becomes less about destiny and more about frog politics. Magnus is deeply invested.
“And thus the princess declared that all frogs should have equal access to cake.”
The child nods already sleepy.
“Good.” Magnus lowers his voice. “The kingdom rejoiced.”
He keeps whispering the story for another hour because he wants to know what happens next.
Horus
Horus’s kid wants to play king, dangerously charismatic dad mode activated.
The child puts a blanket around his shoulders. “You’re the king.”
He bows his head. “And you?”
“I’m the boss.”
Horus laughs so hard he nearly falls over. “Of course you are.”
The child immediately begins issuing commands and Horus obeys all of them, the warmaster of the great crusade crawls across the floor pretending to be a horse. The Mournival walks in and Horus is wearing a blanket cape, carrying a stuffed animal court and negotiating peace between two dolls.
Abaddon opens his mouth and Horus points at him.
“Careful, the boss is in a decisive mood.”
The child points the spoon at Abaddon. “Dance.”
He dances. Horus has never been prouder.
Lorgar
Lorgar’s child wants to play school so they line up the stuffed animals in rows and give Lorgar a tiny chair. The chair is made for a child so he sits on the floor instead, knees folded, enormous and reverent.
The child points at him with a crayon. “You are the student.”
Lorgar clasps his hands. “I am ready to receive wisdom.”
They draw a circle on paper. “This is the sun.”
“A symbol of illumination, revelation, and divine constancy.” Lorgar nods solemnly.
He is given homework, he needs to draw a cat. Lorgar draws an anatomically perfect feline surrounded by radiant script, golden halos and seventeen lines of devotional commentary.
“No, daddy, the cat is supposed to be silly.”
Lorgar takes this correction with the seriousness of a condemned prophet and draws a second cat. It has crossed eyes, four whiskers on one side and legs like noodles.
“Good job!” The child beams.
Lorgar’s soul nearly leaves his body. No sermon, no conquest, no cathedral, no burning truth whispered by gods has ever struck him so deeply as his kid saying good job. He carefully tapes the silly cat drawing to the wall.
“My lord, is this significant?” Erebus sees it later and asks.
Lorgar turns slowly. “It’s my finest work.”
Vulkan
The child wants to play kitchen and Vulkan immediately puts on a tiny apron. It doesn’t fit and looks like a napkin tied to a mountain.
“We make soup.” The child gave him a wooden spoon and a plastic bowl.
“What kind?”
“Rock soup.”
A single pebble is placed in the bowl and he looks at it with deep respect.
“A hearty meal.”
They add leaves, buttons and one toy lizard. Vulkan stirs carefully with his huge hands, moving like he is handling sacred glass. Vulkan pretends to taste and the child's eyes widen.
“By the fires of Nocturne, it’s incredible.”
The child declares it perfect, climbs into his lap and feeds him imaginary soup for twenty minutes. Vulkan eats every spoonful and says thank you each time.
Corvus Corax
The child wants to play shadow puppets, finally a game made for him. They sit in a dim room with a candle, Corvus makes a bird with his hands and they gasp. He makes a wolf, they clap. He makes a bat, a dragon, a tiny dancing man and something that may be a symbol of imperial oppression but the child thinks it is a bunny so it’s a bunny now. Then they try, their puppet is just a blob.
Corvus leans close. “A perfect raven.” The child beams and he is destroyed.
Later they play sneak up. Corvus hears it every time, the child is breathing loudly, giggling and stepping on every creaky board but each time they jump out yelling boo Corvus throws himself backward dramatically like he has been mortally wounded.
“You have slain me.”
They cackle and poke him. “Again.”
Corvus resurrects. This continues until they fall asleep on his cloak.
Alpharius Omegon
The child wants to play guessing games.
One of them stands in front of her. “Which one am I?”
They squints. “Daddy.”
“Yes, but which Daddy?”
They point. “That one.”
“Correct.”
The other twin, from behind the sofa: “How?”
The kid shrugs. “You smell like sneaky.” Both twins are delighted and offended.
They decide to play with dolls. Every doll has a secret identity, the tea party has three false locations, the teddy bear is a double agent and the stuffed duck has been replaced by an identical stuffed duck. The kid follows none of this and simply feeds everyone pretend cake.
Eventually the child grabs both of their hands. “No tricks, play normal.” The twins look at each other horrified but they obey. For twenty full minutes, no one lies, swaps places, creates a decoy or claims to be someone else,it’s the most difficult operation of their lives.
The child kisses both their cheeks. “Good daddies.”
“Worth it.” One twin whispers.
“This never happened.” The other replies.: