#Bully Cato Sicarious

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

All Your Fault

Next

Author's note: I got the Bully Cato Sicarius Fleas. I've read the fics and they are good. I hope I got his character right.

Warnings: Bullying behavior, verbal bullying, Power Imbalance, Cato's Sparkling Personality. uh let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: You are just a Serf, and one day gain the attention of the Captain of the Second Company of Ultramarines. It's not a good thing. Just what did you do to upset him so?

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @egrets-not-regrets, @gra93fruit-blog

You were born and raised near your family's farm on Calth. You had grown up hearing about the Glory and Wonder of the Imperium and how very Lucky you and the other citizens of Ultramar are to have the protection of the Mighty and Noble Ultramarines. 

You had heard stories of how some of the stronger boys in your farming community were blessed with the chance to become Ultramarines. But that had been a few generations ago when the farming community had a poor harvest and they had to give people as part of the tithe more than finished and raw farming goods. 

You bite your lower lip a little as you continue to pull weeds and tend to the section of the fields You had assigned to you to work on. There has been a bad drought that has made the usually high yield farm rather lacking. You have heard your parents and the local town leaders talking about it. 

With the Tithe Coming within a few short weeks, and a lack of agricultural goods. They had been arguing over who to send as tribute and part of the tithe. As a farming community it was heavily encouraged to have multiple children for a variety of reasons. 

The families with more children got tax breaks and help from the centralized government for Healthcare, child rearing and daycare. As well as cheap, decent quality education and help with feeding and funding Children born and continued growing. You were one of seven children and are among the middle of the pack. 

You are full grown, but due to circumstances still stuck at the family farm, working on it rather than having your own place to live. While volunteers are preferred a lottery was going to be set in place for the whole community to gather and those of a certain age range were going to be the most targeted for the Tithe-ing. 

You are in that age range, you aren't sure if you want to be one of those chosen to go. Whether it is into the Astra Militarum, Chapter Serf, or into a different part of governmental service. If it happens, you will do your duty and say your goodbyes to your loved ones. 

The sinking sensation that you felt proved true five weeks later when your name was called as part of the Tithe to the Imperium. You were just barely able to say goodbye to your siblings. Before you were whisked off to be assessed and put into quarantine with your fellow Calth-ites. After quarantine and skills tested, you were given the uniform of Serf. 

And to your greatest joy and honor. The colors of the Ultramarines, denoting which holy chapter you had been chosen for. You whisper in gratitude to the God Emperor for his mercy and wisdom. You swiftly change into the uniform And follow after those who were chosen and head to the proper disembarkation point. 

One of the higher ranking serfs explaining the rules and consequences for breaking them. As you walk by, you and the rest of the Serfs have to flatten yourselves against the walls when Astartes in Blue and Gold Armor go walking by, you keep your head lowered out of respect, even as you peek at them from the corner of your eye as awe and dread grips your heart. You had only ever heard of the Angels of the Imperium before. And now… you get to serve them, what an honor.

Even if it makes you anxious, one of the Ultramarines brushes past you, he has a stern expression on his stunningly handsome face. You swear you feel his eyes flicker over and stare at you ever so briefly before snapping back in front of him towards where some of his fellow Angels are. 

Once they leave the hallway you and your fellow new Serfs are hurried along to their destination as the Serfs who’ve been there longer and are in charge continue to go over the rules, regulations and consequences of disobedience.

Over the next several months you learn of the complex social and political hierarchy of the Serfs. Or at least, you do your best to do so as it seems a tricky, complicated and almost arcane nature. Far more complex that a simple farm hand turned chapter serf could comprehend at times. Although you did your best to do your duties swiftly, promptly, quietly, and with as little impact on your higher ups as possible.

You are carrying some clothing from one part of the ship to another when you sense movement out of the corner of your eye. You stop and shift out of the way when you spot blue and gold ceramite armor and an Ultramarine Space Marine comes walking over. You dutifully flatten yourself against the nearest wall to give the massive man more room.

The Ultramarine pauses and stares down at you. It was the same one that had briefly looked at you all those months ago when you’d first come aboard the ship as part of a tithe.

“Serf,” He barks at you.

“Yes, Lord?” You say trying not to jump. 

He scowls at you and your heart sinks and you feel like you want to cry. “What the fuck is that accent?”

“I-I am sorry my lord?” You try as you carefully try to enunciate Low Gothic properly. 

One of his eyes twitch and he scowls down at you, “Speak properly or stay silent. Serf.”

You nod, even though you feel hurt, welling up, and confusion. He was the one to start to speak to you. “Yes, Lord.”

“Hrm. Barely better,” Cato sneers down at the country bumpkin now blessed to become a Serf of the Ultramarines.

They have the same fucking accent that, Prissy bastard Captain Ventris gets when he’s talking with his uppity giant bastard of a Sargent Passinius. He’d had yet another disagreement with the Captain of the Fourth Company over tactics and Calgar had barked out orders that the pair of them needed to break it up and cool off before coming back to the meeting.

He had meant to go to the training salles to cool off as he seethed in his wrath when he spotted that one far too pretty looking Serf that had come aboard McCragge’s Honor a few months ago. Not that he had noticed them at all. Or that he’d been, for some reason, tracking them from time to time. Not that he’d sought them out while he was in a temper because of Throne-cursed Ventris.

Their large eyes staring up at him, with tears starting to gather at the corners of their eyes. Tch. Pathetic. Even as something else shifts in his hearts at seeing their emotional reaction to him. He’d hardly said much and they were already acting like he was being a Bastard. So he scowls down at them some more and snarls that they need to be tougher to survive as a Serf serving Astartes.

"Leave," He barks and you bow and scurry off and away from him as you continue to do your duties, trying to figure out what it was that you did to upset the Second Captain of the Ultramarines.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Cato Sicarious you deserve this for being an utter bastard and a bully! Seethe, mald, suffer. Reader isn't yours. I love this rage-y dickhead so much. ><

I have another new idea for Cato Sicarius, so we’ve been talking about how Cato Sicarius bullies the reader and sends a truckload of mixed signals with each of their interactions. Now, Sicarius can afford to take this long and painful approach to ‘romancing?’ the reader because he’s doesn’t seem to have any active competition. But what if this wasn’t the case?

Just imagine it, Cato Sicarius sulking and stewing in a corner in rage, watching as another space marine compliments the baseline human and gets her blushing. Now because Sicarius is incapable of basic emotional awareness, he can’t understand that the reason he’s furious, is not because the human woman is wasting his time with frivolously bantering with another marine, but because this space marine is flirting with his human

Now as for the other space marine in this scenario, the obvious choice would be Titus. Because of his natural charisma and being quality husband material. However, you could also have it be a space marine from another legion, someone who’s on Ultramar to meet with Guilliman. Someone who would feasibly come across Guilliman’s favourite cute diplomat. A White Scar who being fun and flirty with the lovely human he just met. Or an Imperial Fist who’s genuinely impressed by the reader’s accomplishments and makes their interest known. Basically Sicarius looks on in envy as he cucked by his cousins

I love this lmao, any opportunity to make Sicarius cope and seethe is good in my books. I wrote this at like 4 in the morning while playing WUWA and keeping an eye on a very sick bird, so forgive any errors.

Warnings: Sicarius’ shitty attitude and being jealous, a dtf Astartes gets all flirty with you, the implication that Sicarius thinks you’re a little harlot for Astartes and really is he wrong?

The Ultramarine couldn’t stop his brother fast enough, speaking to Captain Sicarius through the vox channel connecting their helmets.

“This is going quite well.”

Both Ultramarines then suddenly freeze under the deathly stare of their captain, and they see his heartrates steadily rise in their helmet HUDs.

Higher and higher and higher it goes, as Sicarius’ helmet turns from them back to the scene in front of them. They’ve been tasked to stand guard for you as you greeted the guests aboard the ship, and stand in silence. At least the younger two marines do, the way Sicarius is boiling in his armor is anything but silent.

“Well little one, if you ever find yourself on Fenris, you’re in welcome company.”

A Space Wolf captain gives a wide, toothy smirk at you, and Sicarius turns up his nose at the nonstandard protocol on display at the marine’s red mane of hair. A mess waiting to happen- braids getting caught in armor, something to be grabbed.

“I’m glad to hear that!”

You smile back at him, completely wooed by the Wolf’s obnoxious boisterousness. He’s also massive; Sicarius can see plates of terminator armor blended in with the standard make Astartes armor. The three Space Wolves behind him are smaller, around his size.

The youngest Ultramarine that had nievely commented is visibly confused by his captain’s behavior, while the others, though also confused, have dealt with it for longer and stand in silence. None of them have the command to doubt Sicarius unless there are concerns of him breaching Ultramarine protocol or committing some form of heresy, and so they keep their mouths shut.

“Ahh, but we never realized that the Ultramarines kept such funny little maidens on their ships. Maybe they aren’t as stuck up as we all thought.”

Sicarius seethes; The disrespect on display against the Ultramarines, their primarch, and you! They didn’t even say your proper title, how dare they-

You laugh more, crossing your arms and conveniently accentuating your chest. Sicarius nearly fogs his visor from the heat of his breath. You smile, and the disgusting things that enter his mind at the thought of you and this Space Wolf sicken him. You’ve never displayed the female proclivity for idle chatter so much, he thinks.

Do you, like them? You never act like this in his company. Unless it’s Titus.

“They aren’t as bad as they seem I assure you, they just are very by the rules.” The massive Space Wolf chuckles, before tapping against the bottom of your chin with a knuckle. Sicarius’ heartrate makes a jump, watching you give the wolf a smile with gentle, lazy eyes. He would call them wanton.

Are there no Astartes safe from you? Titus, Helix, half of his men, and now this Space Wolf. He would utter what he thinks you are if he wasn’t dedicated to standing here in silence.

“Alas we should return to our ship. Fenris calls. But we’ll owe you and your Ultramarines a good deal for this assistance. We will not forget this, should you ever call on us for aid.”

Your Ultramarines?

Sicarius swallows a knot in his throat. You do not own him; If anything, Primarch Guilliman owns you, though Sicarius doesn’t understand still why his primarch deems it so valuable. Have you wooed him all the same?

No; His primarch would never fall for such a cheap display of whorish charm. Never. He will not falter either, unlike Titus.

You smile warmly again, face warm at the wolf’s tender touch.

“Then we wish you all safe travels on your return to Fenris.” The space wolves leave, and you turn around to face them all, including Sicarius. You’re much more composed now, smile much smaller and contained. Proper and respectful, unlike moments before.

“That went well. I should report all of this to Guilliman.”

Sicarius doesn’t say anything more than an irritated grunt, turning away.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Which of these fuckers should I write about?

[kit-williams]

Ah yes the time honored tradition of "Country Accents piss off the city boy"

Ventris would probably think our accent is CUTE

All Your Fault

Author's note: I got the Bully Cato Sicarius Fleas. I've read the fics and they are good. I hope I got his character right.

Warnings: Bullying behavior, verbal bullying, Power Imbalance, Cato's Sparkling Personality. uh let me know if I need to add more.

Summary: You are just a Serf, and one day gain the attention of the Captain of the Second Company of Ultramarines. It's not a good thing. Just what did you do to upset him so?

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog, @i-am-a-dragon34, @egrets-not-regrets, @gra93fruit-blog

You were born and raised near your family's farm on Calth. You had grown up hearing about the Glory and Wonder of the Imperium and how very Lucky you and the other citizens of Ultramar are to have the protection of the Mighty and Noble Ultramarines. 

You had heard stories of how some of the stronger boys in your farming community were blessed with the chance to become Ultramarines. But that had been a few generations ago when the farming community had a poor harvest and they had to give people as part of the tithe more than finished and raw farming goods. 

You bite your lower lip a little as you continue to pull weeds and tend to the section of the fields You had assigned to you to work on. There has been a bad drought that has made the usually high yield farm rather lacking. You have heard your parents and the local town leaders talking about it. 

With the Tithe Coming within a few short weeks, and a lack of agricultural goods. They had been arguing over who to send as tribute and part of the tithe. As a farming community it was heavily encouraged to have multiple children for a variety of reasons. 

The families with more children got tax breaks and help from the centralized government for Healthcare, child rearing and daycare. As well as cheap, decent quality education and help with feeding and funding Children born and continued growing. You were one of seven children and are among the middle of the pack. 

You are full grown, but due to circumstances still stuck at the family farm, working on it rather than having your own place to live. While volunteers are preferred a lottery was going to be set in place for the whole community to gather and those of a certain age range were going to be the most targeted for the Tithe-ing. 

You are in that age range, you aren't sure if you want to be one of those chosen to go. Whether it is into the Astra Militarum, Chapter Serf, or into a different part of governmental service. If it happens, you will do your duty and say your goodbyes to your loved ones. 

The sinking sensation that you felt proved true five weeks later when your name was called as part of the Tithe to the Imperium. You were just barely able to say goodbye to your siblings. Before you were whisked off to be assessed and put into quarantine with your fellow Calth-ites. After quarantine and skills tested, you were given the uniform of Serf. 

And to your greatest joy and honor. The colors of the Ultramarines, denoting which holy chapter you had been chosen for. You whisper in gratitude to the God Emperor for his mercy and wisdom. You swiftly change into the uniform And follow after those who were chosen and head to the proper disembarkation point. 

One of the higher ranking serfs explaining the rules and consequences for breaking them. As you walk by, you and the rest of the Serfs have to flatten yourselves against the walls when Astartes in Blue and Gold Armor go walking by, you keep your head lowered out of respect, even as you peek at them from the corner of your eye as awe and dread grips your heart. You had only ever heard of the Angels of the Imperium before. And now… you get to serve them, what an honor.

Even if it makes you anxious, one of the Ultramarines brushes past you, he has a stern expression on his stunningly handsome face. You swear you feel his eyes flicker over and stare at you ever so briefly before snapping back in front of him towards where some of his fellow Angels are. 

Once they leave the hallway you and your fellow new Serfs are hurried along to their destination as the Serfs who’ve been there longer and are in charge continue to go over the rules, regulations and consequences of disobedience.

Over the next several months you learn of the complex social and political hierarchy of the Serfs. Or at least, you do your best to do so as it seems a tricky, complicated and almost arcane nature. Far more complex that a simple farm hand turned chapter serf could comprehend at times. Although you did your best to do your duties swiftly, promptly, quietly, and with as little impact on your higher ups as possible.

You are carrying some clothing from one part of the ship to another when you sense movement out of the corner of your eye. You stop and shift out of the way when you spot blue and gold ceramite armor and an Ultramarine Space Marine comes walking over. You dutifully flatten yourself against the nearest wall to give the massive man more room.

The Ultramarine pauses and stares down at you. It was the same one that had briefly looked at you all those months ago when you’d first come aboard the ship as part of a tithe.

“Serf,” He barks at you.

“Yes, Lord?” You say trying not to jump. 

He scowls at you and your heart sinks and you feel like you want to cry. “What the fuck is that accent?”

“I-I am sorry my lord?” You try as you carefully try to enunciate Low Gothic properly. 

One of his eyes twitch and he scowls down at you, “Speak properly or stay silent. Serf.”

You nod, even though you feel hurt, welling up, and confusion. He was the one to start to speak to you. “Yes, Lord.”

“Hrm. Barely better,” Cato sneers down at the country bumpkin now blessed to become a Serf of the Ultramarines.

They have the same fucking accent that, Prissy bastard Captain Ventris gets when he’s talking with his uppity giant bastard of a Sargent Passinius. He’d had yet another disagreement with the Captain of the Fourth Company over tactics and Calgar had barked out orders that the pair of them needed to break it up and cool off before coming back to the meeting.

He had meant to go to the training salles to cool off as he seethed in his wrath when he spotted that one far too pretty looking Serf that had come aboard McCragge’s Honor a few months ago. Not that he had noticed them at all. Or that he’d been, for some reason, tracking them from time to time. Not that he’d sought them out while he was in a temper because of Throne-cursed Ventris.

Their large eyes staring up at him, with tears starting to gather at the corners of their eyes. Tch. Pathetic. Even as something else shifts in his hearts at seeing their emotional reaction to him. He’d hardly said much and they were already acting like he was being a Bastard. So he scowls down at them some more and snarls that they need to be tougher to survive as a Serf serving Astartes.

"Leave," He barks and you bow and scurry off and away from him as you continue to do your duties, trying to figure out what it was that you did to upset the Second Captain of the Ultramarines.