#Iron Guard

[surfingkaliyuga]

Members of Garda de Fier (The Iron Guard) carrying the caskets containing the bodies of Corneliu Zelea Codreanu and his thirteen companions slain by the order of King Carol II. Preceded by a two day vigil the procession left St. Elijah-Gorgani Church and the remains were transported to a mausoleum in the Green House, the Legionary headquarters (30.11.1940, Bucharest). 

[nehetari-of-szarekhan]

A Rare Moment of Peace

(More Perturabo x Nehetari fluffy stuff)

Perturabo took in a deep breath. The comforting scent of parchment, ink, freshly cut grass, and warm earth hung heavily in the evening air. His well-used drafting desk was one of his favorite places to be, and as a fresh breeze wafted lazily in through the open balcony window, he paused his sketching to look at the dappled evening sunlight filtering in. Birds were tittering outside, likely at their feeder, and their calls came accompanied by the soft swish-swish of ornamental grasses accenting the front flower bed.

This. This was what real luxury was like.

A slightly more insistent breeze slipped into the room, ruffling the drafting papers strewn about the worn desk surface. A misplaced fountain pen began to roll, and halfway through it's journey the primarch gently caught it, placing it back into its tattered old vase alongside the others.

Adjusting the pen in his left hand, Perturabo turned back to the sheaf of papers in front of him. The construction of the Mirror Palace's new wing was moving along apace, but it needed something to fill the half-courtyard formed where the new addition intersected with the east wing and palace proper. A natural pond sat just outside the area so, rather than waste time destroying a perfectly good water feature, a courtyard garden seemed to make the most sense. The Empress agreed.

The pen made a soft scratching sound as he put it to paper, and the plans for an elegant pavillion began to take shape in the ink.

He could have hardly asked for a more perfect time for this project. Crucius was currently away with Edon and the rest of the veteran Iron Guard. No doubt they were running drills, wrangling the new recruits into line, or getting harried by government officials in the capital right now. Empress Shatterspeare had been trapped in too many meetings to come invent more work for him to do, and the Psykers Guild hadn't had a catastrophe since the Necrons installed the empiric stabilizer. Or if there had been a catastrophe, it was either too insignificant to matter, or it wasn't worth risking the Lanky One's displeasure over.

And speaking of The Lanky One...

...Perturabo settled deeper into the large mahogany chair, lowering his head until his chin rested heavily on a crown of soft white hair.

Nehetari was just the right height for a chin-rest, and if she was just going to sit in his lap and take up space, she should at least make herself useful.

Not that it was difficult to work around her. She'd been there for a couple hours now. She wasn't sleeping, or even meditating (the depth and rate of her breathing told him this). She was just... ...watching him as he worked.

It had become... ...a sort of ritual for them on peaceful days like this. She would just appear, occasionally speak, sometimes offer skinship, but mostly just exist in a space near him. Sometimes he would be sitting in his large leather chair beside the bookcase reading, look up, and find her curled up on his bed asleep. Or scrolling through a dataslate. Or browsing one of his shelves for a new knickknack or gadget to inspect. Occasionally she would even sit down and make use of his easel. Though, despite her many talents, she was all thumbs the moment she picked up a brush or pencil. Conversation was never expected or missed, and Perturabo found himself deeply relishing the sound of soft footsteps approaching on carpet, or the gentle creak of a door being shut carefully as she entered.

Or in this case, it was the soft "thurrr thurrr thurrr" sound emanating from her at that moment. Of the various strange noises that her alien biology made, this was definitely one of his favorites. It always started with a soft "thurruk thuruk thuurruk," like someone was turning the ignition of a crate hauler covered in thick cloth. Eventually, the more staccato sounds would even out into long, low vibrations that would echo in her chest cavity, causing her whole body to vibrate ever so slightly. He learned that this was one of her "happy" noises.

The feel of the vibration against the muscles of his upper body was an utterly fascinating sensation, and the sound sent pleasant, tingling waves across his scalp and down his spine. Just as he started to relax, another swift breeze came barreling in from the open door, and Nehetari silently retreated from the cool air into the shelter of the primarch's body.

"Shall I close the doors?"

It was the first word either of them had spoken in hours, and the sound felt strange in the cozy evening ambience.

"Unecessary." Nehetari shifted, settling into her new position. "The wind is sparse, and the fresh air is pleasing. Are you growing uncomfortable with me sitting like this?"

Perturabo snorted, "Hardly."

She barely weighted anything at all (at least to his standards anyway), nor was she as skeletal she used to be. He'd carried her boney, squirming ass across a three hour trek of minefields, trenches, and halfway up the side of a cliff in the past. THAT was uncomfortable. This was nothing.

He was rewarded for his answer with a swift, affectionate lick from her spade-like tongue. It was warm and rough, like the tongue of one of the empress' large felines. The primarch grumbled half-heartedly and planted his chin atop her head again.

Time passed and the cozy quiet reigned once more. Evening faded into night, and eventually Perturabo did get up and close the balcony doors, but only after he made sure the poor fried goat wouldn't freeze without her post-human internal furnace. The primarch watched her with no small amount of amusement as she waddled towards the washroom in a cocoon of blankets, looking like an even stranger xenos than she already was.

The rest was like clockwork. She would sleep here tonight, just like she always did. Maybe they would wake up together to another calm day. Maybe she would wake up first and drag him out of the house on some fool's errand. Maybe he'd wake up to Crucius hurling shoes and expletives at him, Lanky up and swatting them aside like training projectiles. Hell, maybe they'd wake up to every single Iron Guard librarian storming the house, begging them to come fix some hole the Psyker Guild exploded in reality. Maybe even some strange combination of the four; he'd given up on trying to predict chaos a long time ago.

Perturabo only had a few moments to settle himself before the body-heat snatcher returned, invading the sheets and his personal space. He wrapped his arms around the princess and squeezed, feeling her slowly calm and then slip into that meditative state she called sleep, but was more like a waking dream state. Even as her breathing evened out, the primarch could still feel her consciousness being... ...aware. Still slightly unsettling, but that was part of what helped him sleep soundly - it kept the paranoia at bay.

Satisfied, Perturabo closed his eyes... ...and sank into a warm, dreamless slumber.

[septentrrional]

Next 3 weekends - yes, 3 - we have elections in Romania. First tour of presidential elections, then parliamentary one, then again presidential elections final tour.

Well, seems I've reached a point in life when I'm going to vote for the far right and campaign for them.

2 years ago I would have said fuck no to this, but it seems that Romania, Europe and society in general reached a point where I feel that we are doing wrong on a number of topics and we are deepening in that.

Voting for the current establishment would make us sink even deeper and it seems the most likely to challenge the landscape is the far right (not saying they will, but its the only kind of credible option to change).

My hope is that either they win and have to come to more moderate terms, or that they win and the opposition - so the current establishment - will provide a left or in any way moderate alternative worth voting for next time.

Anyhow, this will be a rough ride. Buckle up!

[psycho-claw-blog]

art dump of some furry historical figures. mostly kings and dictators lol. I also finished my harpy hare storyboard which I will then animate. The two characters in the storyboard are Josip Broz Tito and Nicolae Ceausescu no i am not joking. Is it questionable? yes was it fun to do? also yes, will I continue to work on it? yes.

pictures of gifs of said historical figures because why not

[that-random-chaos-entity]

This is 200% what Nehetari would say to Perturabo.

Except she wouldn't say it awkwardly - she's way too confident for that. She'd say it just like how a person of a different linguistic background might directly translate a term from their language into another, not realizing that the direct translation sounds ridiculous.

She'd also say it in some random place, probably in the mess hall of the Iron Reforged, irrespective of whomever is around (since Necrontyr have almost no inhibitions when it comes to sex-words-funny: to the Lanky One, that's just a normal compliment).

Perty would laugh at her strange syntax for about .005 seconds until the words sank in, then he'd die of embarrassment. Crucius would die laughing. Edon would probably choke on his meal or scold her. The rest of the hall would lose their minds and/or pass out, and Nehetari would become confused.

100% confidence. 0% smooth.

just multifandom imagines: you're flirting with your fave but instead of saying "nice ass" you awkwardly say "the booty is round".

[immaculatasknight]

They're green and they're mean

[wh40kartwork]

Primarchs

by Mauro Belfiore

[galacticsabc]

yeah bro, can you guess who Jarvis is romancing?

[saintsupertramp]

something insane, something furious….

[goblin-enjoyer]

Had chaos warbands on the brain today. saw this post and had to make a funny.

[nightwonder7]

Since Fool's Gold is made of magnetic rocks, how much you want to bet a bunch of tools get stuck to him, again?

Bet it probably happens all the time. To everyone's dismay.

[surfingkaliyuga]

“Corneliu Zelea Codreanu” Amelia Jakubowicz 2018

[nehetari-of-szarekhan]

OC Quotes Out of Context:

"...You know that feeling when you've been mocking your least favorite music with your Audiomancer pal, mostly by singing the stupidest lines in the most obnoxious voice you can think of, and then you find out you've been on the open vox channel the whole time? Yeah, it's THAT awkward."

-Crucius Yemnat, First Captain of the Iron Guard (formerly known as the Refored Iron Warriors)

[nevesmose]

✨️ TRAITOR PRIMARCHS x SCOTTISHPEOPLETWITTER ✨️

Loyalists + Bonus

[tagedeszorns]

All of them.

They are available as stickers/shirts/on mugs/whatever in my Redbubble-shop.

[shittyutmv]

Hmmm maybe Ink just needs to be ironed out

ok got it. whats the next step? (context) ink by comyet //+ scrapped ver. under the cut!

blue/swap by popcornpr1nce dream by jokublog core frisk by dokudoki