#Ciaphas Caine

[championsandheroes]

I'm actually making some progress on the Ciaphas Cain books and there's just something awkward about reading his memoirs as edited by his girlfriend, when he's very much a kiss and tell sort of a guy with a girl in every harbor/ship/planet/moon until he meets Amberley. Exactly how many explicit details has inquisitor Amberley removed? We will never know (until a particularly suicidal clerk dig through the original documents).

Points for correctly guessing which of the descriptions were how he actually described colonel Kasteen's butt.

Over at Patreon and society6 there are butts, rears, buttocks, and even the occasional cake.

[the-random-hamlet]

Not Mine. Thought to Share.

[commissar-yarrick]

the boiz being boiz

[ppkukel]

Some sketches with Cain. Again! (pt2) Now with a try to color!

[blazingcakes]

scribbling...

what did he say to gramps?

[beethereal-knight]

The very hero of the Imperium, doin' his best

[madame-helen]

[zoshbox]

I’m going to make everyone look at my bad takes.

[shampoopheasant]

X上的1000粉点图

[frogblast-the-ventcore]

[fyxestroll]

False Divinity

pairing: sanguinius x reader (fem.)

warnings: non-sexual nudity

notes: possible ooc. fell face first into warhammer and getting sad about sanguinius. haven't written a story in a while so ig this is writing practice

Exhaustion had been more than evident in The Angel’s body the second you set your eyes on him. From the slight sag on his wings and the poorly wiped-off scuffs on his golden armor it had been more than obvious.

At your behest, a bath was drawn.

And that led to now, the both of you staring at each other like predator and prey, wary and waiting for the other’s actions. 

You break eye contact first, unable to take the tension.

The Angel is bare and you are not. To speak of that feels inappropriate but you don’t make a move to leave either for the same reason. So you stand there back ramrod straight and eyes cast down on the floor as you pray to your ancestors for guidance. 

You doubt they’ll answer.

You failed to perform the proper rites. They’ve abandoned you as you’ve abandoned them the moment you entered this marriage.

The only hope for salvation it seems is yourself.

“My lord…” Your voice is small but it echoes all around the chamber.

Splash! 

“Yes…?” He sounded hesitant?... No that’s not…

Oh.

 You look down at yourself and then back at The Angel. His wings were spread out and your dress—your favorite, the heirloom passed down from your mother as it was passed down from hers was soaked. 

“I…My…” You could only let out stutters in disbelief.

You’re soaked.

Your favorite dress is soaked.

before shame could settle a flurry of apologies reached your ear and you found yourself staring at The Angel wide-eyed.

His brows are creased in worry, wings quickly tucking inward in what looked like a hunch in an attempt to make himself smaller. His apologies spin-off to promises of making it up to you and of jewels and other finaries.

It takes you a second to realise.

He feels bad.

The very thought of that is laughable but here he was. The being that soared the skies of your home in shining armor of gold untouched by even a hundred volleys of your world’s most powerful artillery, the one whose voice boomed for all the capital to hear as he spoke of an Imperium beyond the stars and the one whose ivory wings had cast a shadow on you that fateful day.  

It was impossible.

Him.

The man—no, the Angel that had come from beyond the sky and turned your world upside down apologising?

Impossible.

But here he was apologising and promising like his life depended on it.

There was only one reaction that felt right at the moment.

You laugh. 

You laugh hard like a young girl with no manners, like a young girl with no worry.  

It’s the first time you’ve laughed in a long time.

The Angel looks at you thoroughly confused.

You can’t help but let out a smile at his expression. Wiping a stray tear of laughter you speak with mirth. This man, inhuman as he may seem was still human after all. 

“It…It’s alright, My Lord.”

You could not describe what you felt when he replied with a smile of his own.

notes: need warhammer moots PLEASE

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

Who is the biggest Chad in Warhammer 40k?

Jurgen was an unwashed porn addict who was also a null and had the two jobs of making tea and carrying a giant blowtorch around for the express purpose of incinerating things at his own discretion. He never elaborated on anything in his life and died of old age. That motherfucker won 40k, as far as that setting goes. Absolute gigachad behaviour the entire time.

[commissar-yarrick]

[ppkukel]

Some sketches with Cain. Again!

[stainlesssteellocust]

Concept: What if Sulla’s dull and purple-prosed memoirs are actually just as bullshit at Cain’s official propaganda, and she’s just like him fr fr.

She (wrongly) believes that a Hero of the Imperium has the utmost faith in her and can’t bear the consequences of failure should she not live up to his high expectations (which he doesn’t have) and masks it behind her eager soldier persona so hard that even Cain doesn’t see it. And then when she becomes famous a whole generation of Militarum girls read Valhallan Valkyrie at a formative age and start thinking they need to live up to her. Just an endlessly recursive loop of imposter syndrome.

Like what if in For the Emperor when she leads her command squad in a risky flanking attack and nobody is quite sure afterwards whether she was being brave or stupid and she hyped the whole thing up in her memoirs, what she actually wrote in her private diary was:

Obviously the last thing I wanted to do was leave my nice safe command vehicle, which could shield me from the heretic lasbolts until His Majesty got down from the throne, and head out into the open where they could cut me to bits. But the only reason I had a command vehicle at all was because all the real officers had been torn to bits by Tyranids and I’d been shoved into a position I didn’t deserve. It had been made clear that our commanders were counting on me, and if I showed myself to be unworthy I could expect to be back on the frontlines within a week, if not in a penal legion.

Worse, an honest-to-the-Emperor hero had put his trust in me. How a man such as Ciaphas Cain didn’t see at once through my ridiculous persona I will never know - but if Cain had one weakness, and as a woman who had the honour to fight along side him for many years, I think I know better than most his hidden heart - it is that he was perhaps overly trusting of the men and women in his command. Such a noble warrior could not imagine that a regiment such as ours could hide a coward as craven as myself, and if there was anything other than the Emperor’s own grace that forced me out the entrance ramp that day, it was the need not to bring our company shame in his eyes.

Besides, if I didn’t live up to that utterly undeserved faith there’d be no more commands for Jenit Sulla, and I’d probably dead within the year. The only way to keep myself out in danger going forward was, ironically, leaping feet-first into it today. And so, cursing myself every step of the way, I fixed the old “Valkyrie Warrior” expression back onto my face, stepped out of my Chimera, and gave the order to advance.

[sorormaior]

@xx-rabidpossum-xx asked for “sopping wet cat of a man (any primarch).” But i misread the prompt and instead drew ciaphas cain, the imperium’s saddest wettest man, my apologies, top g