#Primarch

[wh40kartwork]

Sanguinius

by David Ok

[xx-rabidpossum-xx]

Need Leman to whimper like a puppy to lure in his wife so he can catch her off-guard

Leman russ whimpering like a hurt puppy, luring whatever's running from him to come closer.

Lion mimicking squealing grots or guardsmen's vox static noises, like how cats chitter to trick prey

Vulkan's incandescent rage at eldars translates to how in some fantasies dragons fight elves and whatnot trying to steal their hoard. Humans are the Salamander's precious hoard and this tickles my puny self worth (oh, I'm worth keeping/kidnapping ectect heeheeheheegeheheehhdhdhdhd) so thank you Salamanders.

[green-square-anon]

@lemon-russ @ms--lobotomy

The Emperor canonically put animal dna in the primarchs.

Konrad Curze espcially is a feral bastard

Konrad Curze has never experienced true happiness, espcially not in a calm, content, manner.

Curze cuddling with his beloved being half asleep and completly relaxed, maybe resting his head on their chest, likely having his hair played with/pet or his back stroked. Experiencing this sort of content, happy relaxation for the first time and he just starts doing this low, deep rumble out of contentment. No, he didn't know about this beforehand either.

Turns out, Curze can purr.

It might not litterally be a cats purr. But in meaning and function he is purring. His voice is canonically deep and he's fuck huge (primarch and all) so it really is this deep rumble from his chest. The reader/oc/etc finds it cozy and sonerous listening to the deep rumble of his chest.

Apperently there's some differences in throat anatomy and meaning so it's not a true purr and apperently purring and roaring are mutually exclusive, but I watched a video of some big cat (lion or tiger) "purring". I can't find it, but just something about this sound that's so common coming from a being that just exudes power.

[beckyninja]

This is such a good one! (Not to mention one of the first fics that made me fall in love with Guilliman.)

AAAAAA COULD YOU PLEASE MAYBE WRITE SOME CONTENT OF DAD! ROBOUTE WITH HIS S/O AFTER THEY HAVE KIDS? I WOULD BE SUPER MEGA ULTRA GRATEFUL!! THANK YOU!!

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Here you go, enjoy some cute dadboute content :3

Relationships: Roboute Guilliman/Fem!Reader

Warnings: None really other than the implication of a dangerous pregnancy

“So, where is the little lady?”

Sanguinus crosses his arms casually over his chest, ignoring the sound of weapons clanking against each other. Guilliman does much the same.

“She is in our quarters resting still. The medicae insisted bedrest after he was born.” Sanguinus takes his words seriously, he was one of the only people Guilliman confided his worried about you in. However he also smiles, which Guilliman finds odd until he speaks.

“I imagine it must be a bit frustrating, having to be away from them.” Many of the Primarchs have struggled to contain their jealousy regarding Guilliman’s love, but Sanguinus is kind; He doesn’t doubt he’ll find someone soon.

“Believe me, I would much rather be there than here with you lot.”

Sanguinus smiles wider.

“Horus and Russ both have wandered off, I’ll keep a secret if you want to go see her.”

Guilliman doesn’t need it to be kept a secret, but knowing that Sanguinus will keep the other Primarchs at bay so he can enjoy a moment with his new son is more than appreciated. He gives Sanguinus a nod and takes his leave, the angel's eyes lingering on him for a few moments before looking away.

Each step closer to his quarters makes Guilliman just that bit more relieved, until he sees you in bed. Your child rests in your arms, asleep while you work on something on a dataslate. The medicae had specified plenty of bedrest for you as your body recovered, and he’s relived you’re taking it to heart.

He had also specifically said not to sleep with you for a while, nor get you pregnant until you were completely healed, which had embarrassed Guilliman greatly.

Hearing him enter the massive room you look up, setting the dataslate aside to give him your full attention. You do so gently to avoid shaking the baby in your arms, who does little more than make a few grumbles as you shift.

“You’re back soon, did things end early?” He comes closer and shakes his head, after kneeling at the side of the bed.

“I left for a moment to see you.” You smile, but it's coated in over-exaggerated suspicion.

“The Guilliman I know would never miss or skip out on a meeting. You must be an imposter.”

You seem in bright spirits joking and teasing him, but Guilliman knows well that the child of a primarch nearly killed you- and that you’re still more than likely in pain. He leans down to gently press a chaste kiss to your forehead.

“Perhaps I have been. And the others were none the wiser.”

Guilliman looks down at his child in your arms and gently moves his hand close, brushing a knuckle across his cheek.

"You should come back in an hour or two when he’s up to eat and put him back to sleep,” You say, and Guilliman gives you a sour look that makes you giggle.

Quite quickly you’ve learned that Guilliman’s voice seems to put your child right to sleep, something you’ve endlessly teased him about. While his voice is something you'll never tire of in its deep and dulcet tone, he can quickly become drone and monotonous depending on subject matter.

“Let me get a copy of this months expenditure for the Ultramarines and I’ll return to read it.” You would ask him to hold his child, but you know he’s still nervous about it. He’s still so small; Guilliman worries about his strength. You don’t push it, but you know he’s showing his love in other ways.

“Quite the bedtime story,” You look up at him as he cups his hand around your child’s side.

“You jest, but in my youth my father or mother would tell me about old Macraggian wars before bed.” Guilliman's eyes look away from his child for only a moment to see you scoff.

“Old battle tales are a bit different than a spending document, Roboute.”

Guilliman can’t help but soften his face. He’s so used to hearing his family name or titles; Guilliman, Lord Guilliman, Lord Primarch. He enjoys when he hears you say his name with such softness.

A knock on the door startles you, but you know Guilliman had heard whoever it was coming well before.

“Lord Guilliman? I apologize for the disturbance Lord Dorn is asking for you.” Guilliman sighs.

“I will be there momentarily.”

He looks to you and reaches a hand up to cup your face. You lean into it, smiling and enjoying the warmth of his palm against your skin. Leaning in he presses a kiss to your lips, and stays perhaps longer than he should have. He can hear you contently sigh until he pulls away, and leans to give a kiss to the top of his sleeping son’s head.

“You keep resting. Both of you.”

He looks harshly at you, almost scolding you preemptively. He glares at you as you roll your eyes, but there’s no true discontent behind his expression.

“Love you too, Roboute.”

[meangreennunseen]

Corvus, when facing death: "I fear not for your threats nor for my life. You are in the vicinity of a Primarch of XIXth. Son of Emperor of Mankind. Try your best to best me in combat."

Corvus, when Nix disappears on him and he cannot locate her: *in the corner hyperventilating into paper bag while taking fetal position*

[nightghoulz]

HOUSE LAYOUT (Hopefully final) - More under the cut! Warhammer frat house atp. Might write or draw something to go with it.

Sorry to the dudes that get the interior rooms; I was not about to make a whole third floor for two more rooms.

I’ve spent about six hours on this today and I got the shared spaces done. Building huge houses isn’t my strong suit, I’m much better with smaller houses, but damnit they are all going to live on one plot together. This is my third attempt.

Anyways story time!

Konrad and Corvus are still going to share a wall for the drama, as will Dorn and Perturabo. The others have drama or a bff next to them maybe.

It’s turning into a frat house and I’m not complaining. Warhammer college AU where nineteen half brothers reunite after magically going to the same university/college together. Emps needed money for textbooks way back when and figured out a good way to make money.

No clue how they afford the house with all the fancy ass furniture I’ve shoved in it, but hey it’s more fun to decorate clutter!

I’m also very proud of the greenery outside. I made them a pond so they can shove each other in it idk.

The hallways are stupidly done because I don’t give a damn about hallways. I just want to decorate their rooms tbh :’).

I’ll try to get headcanons out for this lovely new AU out although I don’t know much on some of them. So some stuff will just have to be stereotyped (sorry Gulliman, looks like you’re going to uni for accounting!)

Picture of outside! If you read all of this I greatly appreciate you and you all make my day better <3

[unfortunatelyfuckingstupid]

Vulkan is an Indian Mom

Ok so i was looking at this image of Vulkan in what i assume is what he wears while doing blacksmithing work

like the guy is basically just wearing a dress if you ever worked anywhere close to a forge you know that that while we all wish we could wear that not just for style points but also because the forge oven can actually get THAT hot... its a a guaranteed way to for a trip to the ER

For reference this is what you usually wear:

If your casting or welding something (which vulkan definitely does because why would he just not??????) you usually even wear leather pants and a leather jacket.

Also i dont think i need to mention this but touching your work straight from the forge oven is ALWAYS a very bad idea. Thats what you use tongs for

Now i do get that hes Primarch doesnt affect him cause super human that and all and thats not what im here to argue (although i do think Vulkan butting heads with imperial OSHA would be a conceptually very funny crack-fic )

What i am here to argue is that Vulkan forging and doing generall metal work is like an Indian Mom making rotis.

now if you never had the experience of an Indian mother making you rotis its basically a fact that they don't use their bare hands for everything: they will form it, trow it on the pan, turn the hot roti, get it on your plate all without burning themselves somehow. Meanwhile everyone else has tried this at least once failed and proceeded to use a spatula.

Now my personal headcannon is that that is exactly what Vulkan is like in the forge: he will straight up just reach into to the hot forge oven with his bare hands to get something quickly to show how its done and is somehow fine meanwhile everyone else around him is in full safety gear using thongs to while trying not to get burned (as far as i understand the salamanders forges are way hotter than average). and hes just out here winging everything not even wearing gloves and remaining oblivious of the casual show of "fuck all-ness" he just gave.

My second headcannon is that Vulkan is the only one who can do this (big E doesn't count he can just reality to do what he wants) no ohter primarch has ever gotten close to this level of winging it in manufacturing . I can imagine Dorn or Perturabo probably tried at one point but it just ended with burning their hands. Vulkan remains the only true incarnation of spirit of Indian moms.

[c-u-c-koo-4-40k]

Hmmmmm.....

First of all, how dare you.

Second.

Intriguing. At any rate I Don't think that ring beacon is going to go unused. So Diplomat probably isn't Dead.

I mean regardless Gilly Chick believes she is so...yeah her family are gonna get their spines ripped out.

I'm assuming Victor didn't think that far ahead.

I mean is the coup even Real? If Grammy is as deceptive and cunning as prophesied i wouldn't put it past her

Plz tag me in the next installment.

Rude Awakening

Pairing: Roboute Guilliman x FemReader

Warnings: Sexual content, MDNI

Description: The Reader sends a long awaited message to her home world, only to receive a very unexpected reply.

Plot, lore, and spice in this one folks! (Also, please excuse the very cliched name I decided to use for the Reader's home world.)

This is a continuation of my Guilliman/Reader series. To read the previous parts, check out my Masterlist.

“Transmitting in one minute, Lady Heir.”

Guilliman watched you sit even straighter than before, if that were possible. You’d changed out of the light, flowing dresses he’d grown accustomed to seeing you in these past months, and back into the corseted gown you’d worn upon your first meeting. Your hair was pulled back into a severe bun, your hands tightly clasped on your lap.

Every sinew in your body radiated tension. He resisted the near overpowering urge to go to your side.

“No, Roboute. If I’m to be seen to be acting independently, in the interests of my world, I can’t sit in your shadow.” You’d leaned against him in the Thunderhawk during the flight to your ship, “No matter how I might wish to.”

When he made it clear he intended to be present for the event, and therefore his Ultramarine guards as well, Captain Takahashi suggested they move the whole operation to the spacecraft hangar. Glancing around, Guilliman understood why.

It had been ages since he’d existed in a space not built with giants in mind. Even the towering ceilings of this hangar seemed somehow claustrophobic after the sheer massiveness of The Macragge’s Honor. And that was not the only difference.

Not a candle in sight.

The air still smelled of fuel and chemicals, but the cloying aroma of incense was absent. Captain Takahashi must have driven her cleaning crew hard, for every surface gleamed clean and starkly bright under the artificial lighting.

It all looked so… new. Even the crew, standing at attention in their clean uniforms.

He heard his Ultramarines shifting in their armor and couldn’t blame them for their unease. The differences in culture and technology between your people and the Imperium had never been so obvious. The clash to come….

Guilliman’s gaze returned to you.

You feel it too, the mounting pressure. If we are to avoid bloodshed, you must walk a razor’s edge.

Again, the urge to go to you. His jaw clenched.

***

Your heart felt as though it was about to beat its way out of your chest. 

Strange, how quickly emotions could change. In the days since confessing your family’s sordid history to Roboute, you’d felt… lighter. Unafraid, for the first time in years. 

When he held you, all your grandmother’s torments and scheming seemed insignificant. You were untouchable. Safe.

The folly of such thoughts crashed upon you as you stared at the transmitter. An entire world’s fate rested on your words, on a diplomatic mission no one thought would succeed. 

A diplomatic mission some had done their best to ensure would not succeed. 

Will Grandmother listen to reason? Will the Grand Council? The Military? The Church? 

You squeezed your eyes shut, fighting a rising tide of panic.

Am I leading my people down the path to annihilation?

“Connection established.” The technician’s voice sounded loud in the silence. “Transmitting in ten…”

Light guide me. Protect me against the chaos of the Void.

“...eight…”

Reveal my path and grant me wisdom to protect my people.

“...six…”

Illuminate the minds of those I speak to, that they may see the Truth.

“...four…”

I can’t do this! I can’t!

“...two…”

Your eyes flashed to Roboute. His burning blue gaze met your own. Strength. Courage. Love.

“Transmitting now.”

You lifted your chin and breathed deep. “Honored Matriarch, Grand Council, People of TerraNova, I speak to you today of a new dawn for our people. Six standard months ago, I set out upon a diplomatic mission to propose an alliance with the Imperium of Man.”

Calm settled over you with each word. “I am overjoyed to report the complete success of my mission. Roboute Guilliman, Lord Regent of the Imperium, has accepted our proposal. He has agreed to ensure our continued autonomy in exchange for technology and resources.”

And now for the bombshell.

“To seal this alliance, I have agreed to take the Lord Regent’s hand in marriage.”

***

“... I await your response so that a meeting between the Lord Regent and our beloved Matriarch may be arranged. May the Light, and the Lord of Light, bless the joining of our people. Thank you.”

Guilliman felt pride swell within him as the technician cut the transmission. He strode forward, boots thundering on the metal flooring. 

“You were magnificent, my dear.”

You looked up at him, face pale. “I pray it was enough.”

He reached out a hand, gently taking your tiny fingers in his own, and helped you to your feet. You swayed slightly.

Captain Takahashi appeared at your side, a glass in her hand. “Drink, Lady Heir. You did well.”

Guilliman made eye contact with the Captain as you drank.

She nodded. “I mean it, my Lord. Our leaders will be hard pressed to deny the logic of such a statement.”

He placed a steadying hand on your shoulders. “I have seen diplomats with lifetimes of experience fail to make so compelling an argument.”

“From anyone else,” you murmured, “I’d call that flattery.”

“I am not accustomed to praising the unworthy.”

“I know.” You smiled, face regaining some color, “Still, Void take me! I’m glad that’s over.”

Guilliman chuckled slightly. “How long before we can expect a response?”

Captain Takahashi shook her head. “Hard to say. The message should have been received almost instantaneously, but our leaders will need time to formulate a reply.” She hesitated. “Though, the Matriarch is known for her decisiveness.”

His armored hand tightened on your shoulder at the mention of your grandmother. “I am… eager to meet this woman.”

He sensed your tension returning. “Let us return to The Macragge’s Honor, my dear. We can-”

“Captain!” A shout from the technician drew everyone’s attention. “Incoming communication!”

Captain Takahashi strode to the console. “A recorded transmission?”

“Negative, Ma’am. Live.”

“Oh, Light….” Guilliman watched you wilt once more.

He pulled you against him. “From your homeworld, Captain?”

“We’re too far for a live message.” The Captain’s eyes remained fixed on the screens in front of her. “No. This originates from one of our naval vessels.”

“Lord Guilliman.” Sicarius spoke for the first time since entering this ship. “Transmission from The Macragge’s Honor. Long range scanners have picked up contacts exiting the Warp.”

He faced the Ultramarine. “Details.”

“Five ships of similar make to this one. One significantly larger. Numerous smaller vessels. All approaching rapidly.”

From the scowl on Sicarius’s face, Guilliman knew he expected an ambush. “Have we received any attempts at communication?”

“Negative, my Lord.”

“Captain?” The technician looked toward Captain Takahashi. “Do I answer?”

“Yes.”

Guilliman looked down at you in surprise. You reached up and placed your hand over his gauntlet on your shoulder, your expression determined.

“I will answer, Captain Takahashi. Put it on screen.”

A moment of silence, save for the persistent beeping of the console. “Very well, Lady Heir.”

You tried to pull away from his grasp. “Roboute-”

“No.” He walked with you, hand remaining on your shoulder. “This time, we stand together.”

***

You leaned back against Roboute, partly annoyed, partly grateful. In truth, you felt drained. A mere moments ago you’d wanted nothing more than to return to your quarters on the Imperial ship. Quarters that had rapidly begun to feel like “home”. 

No time for further thought before a figure appeared on screen. It was not who you expected.

The angular face. Hair that curled to his shoulders in defiance of every military regulation. Eyes that never seemed to rest in one place for more than a moment. All familiar, except for the red scar bisecting one cheek.

“Victor?!” 

“Hello, cousin. And, ah…,” his eyes moved behind and above you, “Lord Guilliman, I presume?”

The lack of decorum brought a flush of shame to your cheeks. You felt Roboute’s hands tighten ever so slightly on your shoulders.

“Lord Regent, may I introduce Prince Victor, son of-”

“Another prince, who was the son of a Patriarch, who was the husband of our beloved Matriarch, and so on and so forth. Second in line to the throne of TerraNova. Lord of the Fleet, etc.” Your cousin waved his hand dismissively. “Very pretty, very inconsequential titles.”

Void damn him! He hasn’t changed.  

“Victor, this is-”

“Quite possibly the most powerful man in the galaxy, yes I know.” He grinned, the expression twisted by the scar on his cheek. “And your intended! Congratulations, by the way.”

“An unexpected pleasure, Prince.” 

Roboute had once explained his multiple organs to you. Now, you felt him expand his third lung, giving his already deep voice an inhuman resonance that sent shivers across your skin.

Even through the screen, your cousin couldn’t remain unaffected. You felt a tiny thrill of satisfaction at seeing his cocky smile quiver.

“Unexpected for me as well… my lord. My fleet’s interception of my lovely cousin’s message necessitated this intrusion, I’m afraid.”

You stiffened. “The message? Did it-”

“Don’t fret, my dear. I’m sure our beloved Matriarch is frothing at the mouth as we speak. Unfortunately, she no longer has the power to act one way or the other.”

Dread pooled in your stomach. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, that she’s currently a prisoner in her own palace, cousin. Courtesy of the only other living member of our dynasty.” 

“Conrad?” The magnitude of the disaster struck you hard. “Oh, Light.”

“Clear the deck!” Captain Takahashi snapped.

You heard the retreating of many feet, and glanced up toward Roboute. He stared at the screen, mouth set in a grim line. The Ultramarines likewise remained.

“Victor, perhaps a more private-”

“What’s the point, sweet cousin? Your fiance and his…ah…warriors may as well know what kind of mess they’re about to sail into.” 

***

Guilliman could see why you disliked your family.

The nonchalant mockery dripping from every word this boy said, set his teeth on edge. He showed no regard for the devastation his little speech wrought on you, never once used your proper title. And something in the way he looked at you….

“So, there has been a coup.” He didn’t bother to hide the growl in his voice.

“Indeed.” The boy avoided his gaze. “Grandmother and what’s left of her personal forces are holed up in the capital whilst Conrad, bookish little Conrad, and his army lay siege.”

Guilliman felt you sag against him. “The Military?”

“Apparently they think he’ll be easier to control that dear old Granny, or me, for that matter. And they thought you were dead until a few minutes ago. So they’ve made him their figurehead.” He shrugged. “I don’t really even blame Connie, locked away in that monastery for so many years, he never did learn how to think for himself.”

“The Grand Council?”

“Ran off to the Eastern Continent. Putting up a decent fight, actually.”

You seemed to gather yourself. “So there’s still hope. Wait. They thought I was dead?”

“Oh, yes. Grandmother seemed certain of it. Was almost ready to announce it to the people.” A grating laugh. “I can only imagine her expression when your message came through. I know it shocked the Void out of me.”

Guilliman spoke again. “You called yourself ‘Master of the Fleet’. This implies you have control of your world’s naval forces.”

“Those personally loyal to me, yes.”

“Your mercenaries?” You shook your head. “Victor, they’ll turn on you as soon as you can no longer pay them.”

The boy’s expression turned dark. “They’re loyal, little cousin. Ever since I saved their asses from Grandmother’s order of execution. You can count on that.”

Guilliman didn’t care for his tone. “What are your intentions here, prince?”

He ignored him, darting eyes settling on you. “You need to come home, cousin. Immediately. With me. The people are confused and divided.”

“We need to present a united front.” You nodded slowly.

Guilliman tightened his grip on your shoulders.

“You always were the smartest of us.” Your cousin smirked. “I’ll send a transport immediately.”

Captain Takahashi joined the conversation. “I will gladly transport the Lady Heir on board this ship, my prince.”

“Ah, the ever loyal Captain! You know we all thought you dead too? I appreciate the offer. But we both know my Predator is faster than your little cruiser. And speed is paramount.” He waved a hand. “You can follow along at your own pace.”

“A third option.” Guilliman tried to make eye contact with the prince, but his gaze kept sliding away. “The Lady remains aboard my flagship, and we follow you to your homeworld.”

“Cousin, would you like to explain to your fiance why that won’t work?”

You gave him an apologetic look. “For me to arrive with an Imperial fleet-”

The boy interrupted once again. “It would certainly look like a conquering horde, now wouldn’t it? Unless, of course, that’s your intention.”

“Victor!”

He leered. “It would be clever. Take advantage of our weakened, divided state and swoop in to add us to your collection of worlds. Your marriage to my cousin would give you just enough legitimacy to preserve your image. Assuming, of course, that you Imperials care about such things.”

“I gave my word to the Lady that this would be an alliance, not a conquest.” Guilliman managed to catch the boy’s direct gaze and hold it. “I intend to keep my word.”

He paled and, once again, his eyes darted away. “Well, well. How noble.”

Your hand reached up and grasped one of the gauntlet’s on your shoulders. “Do not make such an insinuation again, cousin.”

A corner of Guilliman’s mouth tipped up at the indignation in your voice.

“Still,” you murmured, “an Imperial fleet, much less the flagship of the Lord Regent, arriving at this time could cause widespread panic.”

And undermine any hope of peaceful compliance.

He never desired unnecessary bloodshed, not even in the days of the Great Crusade. The idea of attacking your homeworld appealed to him even less. Still, to send you alone into the hands of this arrogant princeling… into a war zone….

“Should she agree to this, the future Lady of Ultramar will be accompanied by an Ultramarine guard.”

An astounded murmur from the Ultramarines behind him. Your head snapped up, mouth opening in shock.

The boy remained silent for a moment, blinking. “I…ah… of course. Of course! You want to protect your investment. I understand.” He made a show of peering at the Ultramarines. “I suppose we’ll make them fit somehow.”

You turned back to the screen. “Give me one standard day, Victor. Then send your transport.”

“Agreed. It will be ever so nice to see you in person again, cousin. I’m sure we’ll get this mess sorted in no time.”

The transmission ended.

You pressed your face into your hands. “Void damn it all. Just when things were going so well.”

Guilliman looked down at you. Sometimes he forgot how young and inexperienced you were. You’d learn soon enough.

Nothing ever goes to plan.

***

You stood in the midst of your quarters aboard The Macragge’s Honor, and tried desperately not to weep. 

A fool. I’m a damned fool.

You thought back over the last months. All your life, you’d heard horror stories of the Imperium. Its cruelties. Its fanaticism. How ironic that the best moments of your life so far had been spent here, onboard its flagship.

With him. 

You’d told yourself it could last forever. That all would be well.

Damn you, Conrad. Why? Why now?

You bent to pick a piece of clothing off the floor, only for your corset to tighten further around your chest. Sudden rage filled you.

“Off, get off!”

It had taken two attendants to help you put the thing on. Tears of frustration filled your eyes as you clawed at the hooks and laces to no avail. 

“Void damn it!” 

Behind you, the door hissed open. You recognized the presence even before he spoke.

“Are you all right, my love?”

You didn’t dare turn around, face burning with embarrassment. “I’m sorry, Roboute. I just… I can’t….” You sniffled like a child.

“Let me.”

“You don’t have to- ah!”

A wrench and the sound of tearing fabric. The corset fell away. You gasped, catching it against your breasts. Your mind went blank.

A thud behind you made the floor shake. Then, hot breath on your bare back. The heat seemed to spread across your skin, burning away the rage and frustration, until only longing remained.

“Roboute….”

Lips pressed against the back of your bare shoulders. Impossibly large hands circled your hips, holding you immobile. 

“It seems our marriage will be delayed.” His deep voice resonated within you. “But, by the Throne, I will have this.”

You could only whimper in reply as the lips traced across your shoulders, your neck, and down your spine. The hands on your hips slid upward until they met the corset you still clutched to your chest.

Light forgive me.

You let the piece of clothing drop to the floor, and gasped as the hands covered your breasts. 

“So soft.” He rumbled.

No one had ever touched you like this. You whined as he began to squeeze and knead, calloused skin against your nipples sending shocks of pleasure through your body. Liquid warmth pooled between your legs.

You felt yourself yanked back into a hard chest, only then realizing he’d sunk to his knees. His forehead came to rest on your shoulder. One hand continued to play with your chest, while the other spread down over your belly.

“Tell me to stop.”

“No.”

I want this.

He groaned, and the hand on your belly moved lower, fingers dipping beneath the waist of your skirt and underclothes. You suddenly found it hard to breathe.

“I heard you last night.” He rasped. “I heard you touching yourself, calling my name as you climaxed.”

“Oh, Light!” You should feel ashamed, but his words only stoked the fire within.

“I almost went to you. Throne, I have wanted to go to you every night since the first. Now you are leaving me, and I cannot….” A deep, gasping breath. “I cannot hold back anymore.”

You moaned his name.

“Show me how to bring you pleasure.”

You reached one hand behind you, carding your fingers into blond hair, feeling the massive demigod shiver at your touch. With the other hand, you guided his hand lower, until his fingers met your wet center.

Both of you hissed at the sensation.

“L-like this….”

Spreading your legs a little wider, you pushed his fingers until they brushed against your nub. Your back arched at the sudden sting of pleasure.

He caught on quickly, beginning to rub circles. You ground against his hand, revelling in the wantonness of your actions. Enough with decorum. Enough with following the rules. You wanted him.

You wanted your husband.

“Roboute, faster!” 

He obeyed. And you writhed, no longer recognizing the sounds that came out of your mouth. You heard only his deep, panting breaths against your shoulder. You felt only his fingers against you. Nothing else mattered.

As you leaned back against him, you felt something hard against your rear. You’d felt it before, when he held you down atop his desk. Without hesitation, you rubbed against it, and he let out a strangled growl.

“Yessss….”

His hips began to move. Even as he rubbed you, his massive hand also pressed you back against him. You felt him hard and hot through his tunic. And big. So big. It should have frightened you.

Instead you felt the tension inside you grow tighter. 

“Roboute, I… I…!”

“Give it to me.” He snarled. “Only to me.”

The tension snapped. You opened your mouth, but no words came. Your vision went white. 

Hot and wet and so so good…!

The sudden sting of teeth in your shoulder. A muffled roar. Scalding liquid against your lower back.

And then all was soft, melting warmth. You went limp, and he caught you against him. You felt the swelling of his chest, the thunder of his double heartbeat.

“My love…mine….” He turned your boneless body until you looked up into his sweat-streaked face. “Forgive me.”

You snuggled into his chest. “There’s nothing to forgive, my husband.”

He shuddered at your words. “My beautiful little wife.”

For a moment you stayed there, keeping the outside world at bay.

“Just a little while longer, Roboute.” You whispered. “And then I’ll never leave you again.”

***

Guilliman remembered your words as he watched the transport depart. In the end, only one of his Ultramarines had gone with you. The ship your cousin sent simply couldn’t fit any more.

He hadn’t been surprised when Tarchus volunteered for the duty. He believed, in his own way, the Ultramarine had grown rather fond of you in the past few weeks. And the man was capable. He’d keep you safe.

Still, what I would not give to be the one at her side.

The previous night with you in his arms had been an indescribable joy. Whatever the Ecclesiarchy might have to say on the matter, you were bound to him now. Even if he hadn’t had you fully. Not yet.

He had plans for that. Some customs he couldn’t quite bring himself to disregard. Such as the matter of a ring.

“Roboute, it’s beautiful!” You’d gasped as he slipped the gold and sapphire band on your finger.

“And long overdue. It belonged to my mother, one of the few things I have left of her.”

Your eyes had widened. “Are you sure-?

“I am.” He’d smiled down at you. “She would have liked you, I think.”

“I’ll treasure it.”

“I have added one thing.”

He’d shown you the device embedded inside the band. “Captain Takahashi graciously gave me this. I intend to take my fleet to the asteroid belt her star maps show lies just beyond your system. If you need me, press the largest gem in the ring. A beacon will activate.”

He’d grasped your chin, ensuring you looked into his eyes. “And I will come for you.”

He would, he vowed. Even if he had to carry you off like the barbarian warlord your people thought him to be.

“My Lord,” one of the baseline crew suddenly spoke up, “something’s happening.”

His eyes never left the departing transport. “Yes?”

“One of their fighters seems to be malfunctioning. It is moving erratically.”

“More power to the forward void shields.” Captain Sicarius barked.

A tiny ship, smaller than a Thunderhawk, appeared in the corner of Guilliman’s eye. It twisted and bucked as if the pilot had gone mad. And yet….

The crewman continued. “If it keeps its current course, it will not impact any Imperial ships, my lord.”

A horrible revelation flashed through Guilliman’s mind. “Fire on that ship!”

“My lord?”

“Now!” He lunged toward the hangar opening, as if he could reach out and strike the ship down himself. “NOW.”

He heard the crewmen frantically issuing vox orders, and yet knew they wouldn’t matter. It was too late.

The fighter screamed toward your transport.

“No.”

Your pilot must have seen the threat. He jerked the ship away, but the fighter followed.

“NO.”

Impact.

Guilliman dropped to his knees as all the light left in his life went out.

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[slippi-the-magos]

I remember curly hair being a beauty standard in ancient Rome.

So I offer you Guilliman and Sanguinius hogging the primarch grade curling iron

[yanagikou]

My lovely pandas, a big fat THANK YOU for your overwhelming and absolutely positive support over the past couple months. Since becoming part of the Warhammer community, I have met many beautiful, talented and kindhearted people who have elevated this experience to new heights ♥️🐼

I love reading and seeing all your creative output, and appreciate the effort you put behind it. Please do continue to enrich the world of w40k with your creations ♥️🐼

Thank you all again!

Love, panda-lady.

Art prompt by @jackalwolfsoul

The scanned version is above, the photographed below. Your choice which you like best :)

P.S. we are closing in on 200 followers O.O

P.S.S. the broom has struck again (if you know, you know) 🐍

[vipervagner]

Fem. Corvus Corax

[w-40-k]

Ooh, eye spots!

The very nature of the universe should punish me for drawing Mortarion as a pony.

[magicalduck21]

[incorrect-primarchs-quotes]

[meangreennunseen]

I know Primarchs are numbered and it's probs the order they were created, but also the order of how they were found makes me think who are older and who are younger brothers by vibe (or how they see eachother in that regard). So here's my hcs for their in-relationship hierarchy.

Older Brothers: Horus, Sanguinius, Lion, Vulkan, Khan

Middle Brothers: Magnus, Perturabo, Rogal, Fulgrim, Ferrus, Leman, Mortarion, Angron,

Baby Brothers: Lorgar, Guilliman, Corvus, Konrad, Alpharius/Omegon

[slippi-the-magos]

What I mean to say is: who would be born must first destroy the world. A phoenix was expected to emerge from the egg, but instead it was a snake. (funnily snakes also symbolize rebirth) In either shape, Fulgrim has reshaped (reformed or broken) his world (chemos and the imperium) and I think that's very interesting, because his demon planet is named after his home(?) on chemos. I wonder what he'll break next.

Thinking about symbolism and all that, and the Chaos gods. In this case, about Fulgrim.

Fulgrim constantly compared to a phoenix. Phoenix this, phoenix that. Bird bird bird.

So which Chaos God does he become a prince of? The Bird God?

WRONG

SNAKE