#and say hi to his old warband

[larperwithastaff]

happiness is knowing your character has a home now 💚

[circeius-invidioso]

I do not get why the Red Corsairs are not a popular choice.

Like.

Like here is the elevator pitch for the warband and then we can come to some justified conclusion.

What isn't there to love?

You want me to turn into an infomencial and make a top 3 reasons why the Red Corsairs are great?

Cause I can.

And I will.

The Diverse Working Enviroment

Here in the Red Corsairs we might have started as Ultramarines but the barrier for entry is on the floor. So anyone can join.

You are Night Lord with a bad rep and no ship.

Buckle up we got you covered.

You are a Fallen and have 20 Dark Angels all up in yo business? Trying to shoot down the boss babe you are?

Fear not, or in our case. Know no Fear. We are strapped and don't get clapped.

You are a traitor that likes their Legion but sadly you got in our way?

Tough luck buddy, you will join or die and your geene seed will join our cause. Nothing personal battle brother. Just business as usual.

Everyone is welcome as long as they follow Huron's guidelines and don't aggitate the topless sweaty Khorne worshipping Ultramarines in the basement.

Sustainability

Unlike the corrupt Imperium of man and the corpse Emperor our leader is powered by miracles (which is trully a miracle how he survived but that on the next section), and we use 0 psyckers to power our crap.

Our carbon footprint is also minimum as we use salvaged goods and don't indulge in toxic industries that destroy worlds.

The Red Corsair base of operation is in the Eye of Terror and from there we expand our scope. A place greatly known for its constant shifts, and horrible conditions but the tan our serfs have are spectacullar from all that cosmic radiation.

Finally we are commited to recycling. As in we take from our victims benefactors and put those stolen goods to some great use. Nothing goes to waste, neither mortal, nor static object. If something is not nailed on the floor we will take it.

In fact we might take the floor too and the nails used to set it in place.

Nothing goes to waste!

Unmatched Leadership

Last, but certainly not least.

The man.

The myth.

The Legend.

Huron Blackheart.

Aka Lufgt Huron.

Aka what would happen if we gave a compressed Guilliman a daemonic familiar and left him to ferment in a warp storm.

Not only the name is so edgy you might cut yourself by saying it out loud. But also it's complex enough that if you say it quickly three times without twisting your tongue theres is a chance furniture might start levitating.

The man has put his Ultramarine brain to use and amased enough influence and power to put the Black Legion to shame.

Huron went from 0 to 100 in no time, he is a self made Warmaster. With no daddy issues or troubles in the world, he goes into battle blasting Alestorm in the voxxcasters.

He does not care.

He probably wears this when he wants to relax.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

He has a biker gang specifically organized to hunt down those who have betrayed him.

They slap those things on their armors not for the usual biker reason

(which fun fact the meaning is, 99% of the bikers are law-abiding, where the 1% are not. That's where the 1% comes from. The more you know 🌈)

no they wear that 1% because that's how high are your chances of escaping from them are.

Is that a bit extreme?

Yes.

You think he cares?

He does not care.

The dude once gathered his buddies and decided...

to you know. Have a casual outing. Nothing too serious, it was a sunday afteral.

So they decided on.

Kidnapping Guilliman.

Which they almost did if not for a Fallen of all people getting in the way.

But still.

The mad lad took Macragge's Honour and went on a joyride/ mini civil war.

Who in the galaxy can turn and say.

Yeah, I stole Macragge's Honour, almost captured my old Primarch. Told a daemon prince they are irrelevant on my way there. Anyway after crushing a fool who thought he could take my crown as king of the space pirates, I went to the home planet of the White Scars and kidnapped and tortured their Chapter Master. What did you do this week? 💅

Who wouldn't want to be a part of that?

You tell me I can be an immortal, gorgeous chaos Ultramarine goth boy going on pirate adventures across the galaxy?

Where do I sign up?

I don't need ink for a signature.

I will use my own blood.

[mistfallengw2]

Dragon warband (1305 AE, 16-17 years old, at graduation from the fahrar)

Ardea Dragonblaze - Legionnaire, elementalist Aurelia Goredragon - Ardea's partner, warrior Sidonia Chaindragon - Ardea's older half-sister, guardian Odhran Dragonfly - Obsius's albino twin, mesmer Obsius Dragonprowl - Aurelia's best friend, thief Kouran Dragonheart - the mom friend, engineer Reeva Dragonblast - the one with the joke, engineer-ish Lupita Wilddragon - the quiet one, ranger Rorick Dragonbreath - the Orr nerd, necromancer

Can't believe I had them since late 2017, but years later they finally have a design! Now to draw them around 15 years later, and finish their small refs for their fullbody design... sometimes in the future, gotta catch up on the easy oc-tober challenge first (9 out of 31).

Some trivia from the wip, and some new trivia! - Having just gotten out of the fahrar, they're full of confidence and bravado. Granted, they're quite capable, more than their age shows, but they still have some important growing up to do at this point. - The necklace Ardea wears was made from an amber gem Aurelia found during training when they were younger. She gifted it to her because it was the same color of her eyes and Ardea had it made into a necklace. - When they became official, Ardea started braiding unruly tufts of her mane with locks of Aurelia's (she keeps it short anyway). - Sidonia is not only more buff and tall than most female charr, but she's also extremely fluffy, especially in winter. She doesn't mind it that much, and luckily her sister is always up for helping her out with grooming. - After Rorick, Lupita gets along the most with Obsius and Odhran. One wouldn't say so from how the twins mostly ignore her (she's always quiet anyway), but there's never been a team like them in the fahrar when it comes to kitchen raids and similar nighttime expeditions. - Reeva never really figured out what she wanted to be, which played heavily into her insecurities during the first years in the fahrar. Kouran helped her a lot after she stopped bullying him, and she became a bit of a jack of all trades. While she doesn't like calling herself an engineer, she considers herself a top-tier engineer assistant. - Rorick got quite fucked up during a spell gone wrong, months before he joined the fahrar when he was still figuring out his magic. The result was much uglier and zombie-looking for a while, as the spell had quite literally consumed life force out of his body, with his face and hands having taken the brunt of it, but after lots of healing his skin became just furless and kind of wrinkly (think of a sphynx cat, but less squishy because it is technically all scars). Too bad his fur remained thin and sparse all over, never regaining its full strength.

[kit-williams]

Hoof Care

Yes I was really thinking of Baldamort's voice for Drar (Watch his video on the Master of Executions and well you can probably figure out where I got Drar's voice from)

Husbandry tag list: @egrets-not-regrets @liar-anubiass-blog @barn-anon @bleedingichorhearts @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

thank you @squishyowl for the 40k themed dividers

It was that time of the month again where you'd get a call to go to them they paid you quiet a bit and of course you weren't the only person going... it was always a big big event. You head to the Iron Warrior's base near the city... most Chaos Space Marines' don't have bases but their loyalist counterparts do... though Iron Warriors are an exception not a norm. Though you weren't sure as the Iron Warriors didn't have too much friction with their "traitor" selves? You didn't understand nor really bother too.

The norm would be the fact that there is a Night Lord base being built somewhere given that there were now enough loyalist night lords demanding it. But you made sure your tools were sharp and everything was ready... you knew the only downside of the Iron Warriors was the fact that both loyalist and traitor elements kept pushing and vying for power within their own... faction?

As you backed your truck in and got out you could hear his crooning... he was old had that slightly withered lit to his voice as it croaked out of him as if he had ruined his vocal cords time and time again. "Missy so nice of you to join us." Drar the Warpcutter spoke and if you remembered he said he was the leader of a warband known as the Malefactors of Sin.

"Lord Drar... and hello Helios." You politely said as his Master of Executions followed. The big man behind him looked at you and you swallowed... you didn't get the feel good vibes everyone else got. Your eyes flicked to their weapons... to the skulls up their belt... and you had a feeling Drar enjoyed the fact you were afraid of them. "Where is Vasso..." You ask for the current "chapter master" and you watch Drar wave his hand.

"Busy. The child is going to work himself to death at this rate and I... took the liberty of playing host for him." He says with a grin, "But enough pleasantries... you're the final one to arrive." You flinch as his massive hand pushes against your back and you move into the hanger.

Chaos Space Marines of countless chapters and warbands were here all highly mutated. Heavy hooves clipped and clopped against the floor as centaurs made their way to the designated zone. You headed over to the other ferriers as Drar trilled his goodbye and Helios just gave a nod. You could see where other space marines were watching and learning how to take care of their mutated brothers and cousins as in the far corner you could see iron warriors guarding feral marines that took the offer for maintained care but do not want humans touching them. You could understand as it took you a long time to get over the wrongness of your clients.

At least they behaved better than horses, the massive hooves were clipped and trimmed even polished if they wanted too. The utterly massive Black Legionary stallion... Troc was his name, he would have been such a pretty black horse, brought his own shoes... shiny brass things. He liked his hooves painted a nice solid black.

You could hear Adamatar bellowing as the white minotaur had hurt one of his hooves and so trying to get him to behave enough to put a block on his hoof was feeling like an impossible task. You could spy long tails wagging as fur coats were being brushed... a canine centaur of a Night Lord was half asleep as he was getting his jet black fur coat groomed and nails trimmed on his paws. You trimmed the frog of Troc's hooves just shaping his hoof as he was currently gushing about his bonded... a little girl who had a habit of calling him "pony" or "horsey" when she got overly excited and also calling him "Truck".

The shiny iron horseshoes of a bulky draft of an Iron warrior caught your eye. They certainly liked to feel pretty.... you shiver as a heavily mutated space marine lumbers past... organized chaos of it all and you're getting paid enough that it makes you not have to worry about the slower times of the year.

You could see someone with their body leaning into a massive stomach maw just cleaning the teeth of the marine. You stop looking as you hammer in his shoe and work on cutting the nails and then applying the black hoof polish.... rinse and repeat.

Sure they cooperated more then an actual animal but it was still a lot of hard work. "Hey!" You snapped at someone's apprentice. "Don't just walk behind them!" You said pointing out the fact that they were just walking right behind the centaurs. Which if he was working with actual horses was bad practice.

"They won't kick." They countered back.

"Yeah but they still can't see you and when you work with an actual horse they will kick if you walk right behind you. Give them the same berth as you would an actual horse because if one of these boy's kicks you're going to die." You huff as you resume working on the hooves of the Iron Warrior as someone was working on his horns... it was sometimes easier to do multiple tasks on the same marine as they kept still.

Lunch was provided and it was nice... it felt normal to have that lull in working as you grabbed a coffee as you worked in shifts... went around inspecting other's techniques... watching how some of them were teaching their apprentices, in various fields, or how they were teaching the Astartes on how to take care of their own. Sometimes a feral marine would be brave and try to get taken care of by one of us "mortals" but you never volunteered you had plenty of Astartes asking for you to work on them personally.

But the day blurred on by till you were getting handed a stack of cash of a few thousand dollars with the hope that you would come back same time next month and as well as the cavate that if something changed they would inform you. Again you see Drar as you head back to your trunk and a cup of coffee, that looks so small in his hands, is given to you. "What's this for?"

"Job well done?" He croons.

"Ah yes the usual hush coffee so I don't tattle on Vasso of you playing chapter master huh?" You say ignoring the scowl on his face as you sip the coffee, "or... is it hush coffee to keep me from tattling again to Vasso because you enjoy scaring people?"

"Mouthy little mortal aren't you." He hisses as you cow slightly, far too tired to not be filled with dread as he moves far too smoothly for something so big. He spat to the side, "But something like that."

"And like usual I'm going to be the last one to leave because you like chatting." You say tiredly as you drink the hot brew that made you feel tired. You had enough for a hotel in the city for tonight though... beds were always available here at the fortress. "I have a feeling you're going to chat me up so long I might just have to spend the night."

Drar laughed, it was hardly a pleasant sounding thing... it was dark and ominous... it was downright an evil sounding thing that ended rolling in his chest till it quieted. "You look exhausted."

You just drank the coffee to prevent yourself from making a 'captain obvious' joke, "I might stay tonight or at least get a few hours of shut eye."

"Then let me play the good host once more." He crooned and you just locked your car after placing your tools inside... just a few hours of sleep then you'd make the drive home.

[thevoidscreams]

Let’s do another one, shall we? This one might be a little more…freaky.

(Any Chaos Astartes)

*Your Astartes been more affectionate lately. Slowly persuading you into his “nest” where he finally has you right where he wants you. Stuffing you full of his clutch.

*You don’t even realize whats happened until you’re whimpering out in ecstasy. Too drugged up on his scent/pheromones.

*Oh, you’ll make a wonderful mother to his brood.

(Too freaky?)

Day 16

I am frothing. I love oviposition.

Pairing: Pumpkin chaos astartes oc x reader

Warnings: oviposition, sex pheromones/ chemically induced arousal, space marine husbandry with full sized astartes

Making the warnings bigger so yall dont miss it. But I'm gonna say it's all consensual I'm going to make more for this in the future I think

When I'd found him out in the wilderness I hadn't expected to bond with him so strongly. I couldn't even really tell what legion or chapter he'd been a part of.

Chaos, that was what the apothecaries told me and I was instructed to move forward with caution. I called him Pumpkin as a sign of affection. It was the nickname my mom used to call me. He liked it alot. Answering me eagerly when I called for my Pumpkin. Perhaps I should have tried to learn his real name first, now he won't tell me what it is. He only answers to Pumpkin.

But I liked him. He was a good housemate, keeping tidy and he was affectionate for someone I found in the woods.

He took up the old room I gave him, and it quickly became a cozy place as he scrounged old furniture from curbs.

I made him clean them thoroughly before he could bring them in. But it became a really sweet set up.

After he was done with all that he seemed to shift. It was nearly imperceptible at first. Just more touches here and there. Going out and bringing back fresh foods he'd foraged with him. 

Checking in on me, marking dates on the calendar with little stars. As if he was tracking something but he wouldn't tell me what. He spoke in broken English, but he was still learning the language, and I had learned just enough of his High Gothic to communicate.

I thought about going out to acquire another astartes. The forums said if you could have more then one they learned new languages quicker.

When I brought it up with him, he absolutely lost it. Yelling “No” in more than just two languages.

I was shocked but dropped it. But he was oddly distant after that, taking his dinner to his room to eat alone.

That night I went to the forums and tried to find out more.

[Hey all. My chaos astartes is strictly against me getting another astartes. Why,]

NewlyChaotic: 

“Hey all, 

I ‘adopted’ my chaos astartes about five months ago and everything has been great so far, but I had been wanting to open my home to another perhaps. But when I brought it up to Pumpkin (it's what he likes me to call him, I don't know why)

He lashed out badly and wouldn't talk to me for hours and went to bed.

I only brought it up after reading that astartes learn and operate better in groups generally.

Even chaos aligned.

Any advice would be greatly appreciated, I feel so lost and just want my Pumpkin hugs back. ;^;

I wanted and soon my thread had a response.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

Hey @NewlyChaotic,

Sorry to hear about your troubles. It happens sometimes that astartes grow bonded to their baselines and just don't want to share. He might feel like you'll replace him if you bring another astartes into your home.

As for the chaos aspect, what legion is he?

NewlyChaotic:

I'm not sure, his armor looks like it was scrubbed clean of paint and he has no livery that I can discern. He's normally very sweet and I love him to pieces, I could never replace him.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

I get that. I love my boys to bits and wouldn't ever want to hurt them.

Maybe he left his chapter/warband.

Also my friend @ShadowyMistress has a few chaos boys. She might know some things.

ShadowyMistress:

I have been summoned?

Yes I have many different chaos astartes. They're really sweet when they actually like you lol. :p

NewlyChaotic: 

So is his behavior normal?

ShadowyMistress:

Seems it. However you should look out if he starts to make “nests”.

Some mutated astartes begin to take on more animalistic traits.

He might try to breed you. Which, I mean if you're down for that then Godspeed.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

It's pretty rare, but romantic connections can happen.

I would know.

I let that digest for a minute. Turning to look towards Pumpkin's door.

My heart thumped harder at the thought and I felt uncomfortably warm.

My love life had been pretty lackluster. Hadn't had a date in a hot minute. 

I shook my head, I'm sure it wasn't that.

NewlyChaotic:

Thanks for all the help guys. I have a lot to mentally chew on with his.

Salamander_Sheila🐉:

Talk to him, as best as you can.

If he's not proficient at English it's okay. Astartes are good at sensing intent and feelings. 

Be open with him and if you mean it, tell him you don't plan on replacing him with anyone else.

Good luck with Pumpkin, and you can shoot me or Shadow a dm if you need. We're usually around at this time.

NewlyChaotic:

I will. Night guys.

I logged off and shut the computer down.

The side table lamp was on and I knocked on the door softly. He wasn't an early sleeper so I knew he'd still be up.

There was a soft “Yes?” From the other side, I cracked the door open and called in.

“May I come in?...Please?”

I waited, my chest feeling tight for some reason.

“Yes.” 

I let out a breath I didn't realize I'd been holding and stepped in.

Pumpkin was at his desk. It looked like he'd been watching a nature documentary on the laptop I'd gotten him. I was happy he'd been enjoying it.

The words of the girls on the forum flashed in my mind. ‘Just talk to him..he'll understand the intent.’

“Hey, I wanted to apologize about earlier, I didn't mean to upset you.”

He looked at me with green gold eyes that seemed to understand what I was trying to convey.

Perhaps he understood more of my language than he could speak.

He turned to me fully and put out his hand. I took it and shivered at the contact. His hands were so warm.

“I don't want you to think I'm trying to replace you, not at all. I care about you Pumpkin. I just read that you astartes tend to do better in groups. And I was worried that being here with me wouldn't be enough to make you happy.”

I hadn't meant to spill that fear to him, but it was out now and I couldn't take it back.

He pulled me into his arms. Hugging me with so much understanding and affection. It felt amazing to be held like that.

“You are…enough. I am.. I am happy with you.”

He had to think through his words as he spoke and I returned the hug.

“I'm so glad. I just want you to be happy and healthy.”

He nodded and kissed the top of my head, it made me giggle.

I let him go and he did the same. But he raised his hands and gently touched my chin.

“I love you.” He chirped on High Gothic and I wasn't sure what he'd said but I didn't press.

“Well, I'm gonna get to bed. I have more work to get done in the morning.”

I hurried out, feeling a tad bit light headed. His touch had left me feeling hot for reasons I couldn't explain.

I was going to need a shower. Probably a cold one.

I watched her go, my hearts pounding. Too little, I noted. My pheromones hadn't built up enough. I opened up the journal on the miniature computer system my beloved had gotten me. 

I needed to record this interaction. It would be important to show our sons in the future. After they were here of course. 

It hurt to lie to her. I loved her, but I couldn't risk her finding out I knew everything she'd said. 

And if she brought an intruder into our home, our nest. My cover would be blown and our children's safety compromised.

I loved her, but she could be so silly.

Standing, I shutdown the computer and chuckled. No incense needed, no fancy oils. I liked these little machines. 

It was late and I needed to finish touching up the place where I would make our family, my new warband of sons, a reality.

It was such a shame that the old one lacked vision. That they refused to accept the gifts of our patrons.

Our numbers would have grown and we would have been unstoppable. Able to take anyone we pleased to grow our numbers.

I had had to do it, to cleanse them from existence. They turned me away, called me disgusting. A shame to kill so many brothers and cousins.

But what if they told others? 

I'd rid myself of their colors, their symbols, their outdated ideals. I was my own man now. I would have a warband that was loyal and not full of naysayers and old ruins.

The prince of pleasure and the changer of ways had given me such wonderful gifts.

I just had to have my little darling here with me in my nest. My pheromones were the strongest here. And she'd been too busy to notice that I moved my couches to block in the corner.

This would be the most comfortable place to fill her with my clutch.

I rearranged the pillows again, and pulled more blankets I'd gotten into the pit.

Perfect.

Her door was never locked. A good thing really, she was so beautiful in the moonlight. Dreaming soft dreams.

Were they of me? I know what few dreams I had were of her.

They had been since I'd first seen her in the park. Plotting how I would find my way to her. The whispered promises of my patrons in my ears.

But then, she found me first. It was fated. Truly it could not have been any other way. I had to be hers. She had to be mine. They told me so.

I liked the new shampoo she used, it smelled like desert flowers….like home.

“I love you.” I whispered again. My fingers brushing over her still damp hair. I would feel it more when I took her tomorrow. I would let her work while I made ready our love nest.

She would be mine. And her body would hold our sons. The prey I brought for her to feast on had been nutrient rich and her cycles had proven that. Tomorrow was the perfect time, peak fertility.

Oh so many clutches would her body carry for me.

I kissed her lips softly and slipped back to my room.

Soon darling. Soon.

The alarm I'd set woke me and I stretched rolling out of bed.

The smell of food wafted to me as I stepped out into the hall.

“Pumpkin?”

There was an answering grunt from the kitchen and my astartes came into view. Cooking up a balanced meal, as was his habit.

“Anything fun planned for today?” I asked, knowing he likely wouldn't reply.

“Well I have to finish up that last chapter and get it sent in. My editor's been on my butt all week over it.”

I felt his eyes fall on me. But he didn't reply verbally, just bringing me food without asking for anything in return.

I smiled and took the plates.

“I don't deserve you. You're too good to me.”

I was surprised when he wrapped me up in his arms, hugging me and nuzzling the top of my head.

He'd been doing that more and more often.

“Thank you, Pumpkin.” “You are welcome.” He sighed happily. “You remembered the response. That’s great.” I looked up and our noses touched briefly. Just to be a stinker I kissed the tip of his nose. He shivered and pulled away to look at me, he looked a bit confused and oh so adorable. I giggled, I couldn't help it, somehow the towering mass of muscle was just too cute. “Sorry, it was simply too good an opportunity to pass up.” 

He nodded and leaned down to kiss my nose in return. I giggled again and he went to his chair. I told him about my chapter and the climatic finale I had planned and how those plot points would lead to the next book. He listened with patience and nodded, even if I wasn’t sure he understood all the details. He took my empty plates and put them in the sink. “Have a good day.” He hugged me and I hugged him back. “I’ll do my best. Just for you.” His eyes lit up at that. She was becoming more affectionate in return. My patrons must be right. It had been too hard to pull myself away. But I needed time to continue to make the nest perfect with the final rituals. I retreated to my room, several bags of snacks ready for the trap I had set. At around 1:30 I finished up my last edit and sighed, saving my document again for the thousandth time and sent it off to my editor. I heard Pumpkin’s door open and went to see what he was doing. WHen he saw me his eyes lit up and he waved me over. “Hey you, guess who officially finished their book?” I gestured to myself. “It’s me!”

I stopped at his door and he took my hand. The lights in his room were dim and comfortable. “What’s all this about?” 

He’d rearranged his furniture making a blanket and pillow bowl. He’d set up his laptop with snacks and the show we’d been watching together. The room smelled strongly of him and something sweet. I was going to question what he’d used but suddenly I just didn’t mind. And hell, I could use a break and a treat for all that work I'd done. I let him take me to his blanket pit and climbed over the couch. “So what’s on the menu today?”

“You my beloved.”

I pressed play and pulled her down into my lap. She obliged and I had to once again fight to simply have her then and there. She fit perfectly against my body and I could feel myself getting hard. I needed to calm down. To let her find herself naturally ready to mate. I could smell it on her. Her fertility. The episode was good, but I kept losing my focus on it and looking down at her. After an hour she seemed a bit woozy. Like she had been after that party. She’d worried me then, but now I knew what clouded her mind and it wasn’t any drink. I smiled, it must have looked deranged for as much glee and anticipation I felt. It was impossible to focus now, I was so needy now that I had half a mind to just leave and take care of myself. But I didn’t want to. I wanted to be close to Pumpkin. I wanted to pet him and kiss him deeply. He was so handsome, nothing like what those forums said about the chaos chapters. “Pumpkin?” I breathed, my head felt light as I looked up at him, his green gold eyes boring into me. “Yes?” Mmm, his voice, gosh I could listen to it all day. I turned in his lap and did something I never thought I’d do. I kissed him, full on the mouth. He flinched with shock and my brain shorted out. The world spun and I was under him. The blanket pile smelled like him and I buried my face in it. Something nagged at the back of my mind but I ignored it in favor of space marine smell. Pumpkin moved away and I whined, making grabby hands for him to come back. My body was being shifted, although I wasn’t sure why and I felt him return the heat of his skin on mine making me moan. His hands took hold of my thighs and something pressed at my entrance. I was too giddy to look down, the instinctual part of my brain hollered again and I knew what, but I found that I didn’t care. She yielded to me so beautifully, her body was ready and I slipped in with a groan and she let out a silvery little cry under me. Her hands clawed at my chest, trying to pull me down closer to her. I let her, and took her chin in my fingers, holding her as I pressed her down into the blankets, kissing her hard. The mother of my sons. Too perfect, too warm and tight. I wondered if she would accept me forever. I would happily make her my little wife. She could write her books while she tended to our sons. I pulled out, rutting back into her. My cock was perfectly tailored to allow me to push the tip into her cervix without hurting her. Just one of the design choices that the changer had gifted me. It would allow me to cum in her and not waste any of it. That cum would prepare her body for what came next. My clutch, those seeds that would mature and grow till she was able to lay them. It would only be a few of them. BUt soon I’d be able to fill her. Her body would grow accustomed to them. But for now, I loved her body with my own. It was like heaven, his body moving against me, and in me. The warmth of his body over mine and his lips stealing kisses. I cried out again as he pressed in deeper, every thrust was pure delight. His cock brushing over every spot conceivable that might make me see stars. My nails racked over his skin, leaving angry red scratches behind, he moaned and it made me want him even more. It was like candy to my brain, a sugarly sweet addiction.

“Pumpkin.” I squealed as he wrapped his arms under my back and hugged me tight to him, leaving barely enough room to breath. His hips jack hammered into mind, making cohesive thoughts impossible. But what should matter to me? It was an otherworldly level of pleasure. No one had ever made me feel this good. The force of his thrusts and the pure bliss sent me over the edge, It felt like my body was twisting inside as my eyes rolled back and my back arched almost painfully into him. The noise that came from me didn’t sound like one a pleasure i’m sure, but my body burned with even more need, the need to be filled. Her nails cut into my thick hide, drawing droplets of blood and I felt even more in love with her. So strong for someone so small. I could feel her loosening and the tip of my cock slipped an inch into her womb. The perfect place for my clutch. I came into her. The thick ropes of my love conditioning her for the final stage. The prince promised me that it would make her body accept my clutch, giving her the feeling of being pregnant. So her body wouldn’t reject my sons. They moved down from their place of holding in my abdomen and I groaned deeply as I felt them pass from me and into her. I petted her hair as she gasped and writhed under me as the eggs stretched her. “There, there. Soon my love. You will bring forth our sons.” I soothed her kissing her cheeks and temples while three lemon sized eggs were deposited into her. I stayed inside her till she fell asleep in my arms. A soft smile gracing her lips. “My love, you cannot imagine the joy you have brought to my life. And the joys you have yet to bring.” I rolled onto my side making her comfortable as she pressed into me. I placed a blanket over her. I had a journal entry to update. My Dearest sons, You were conceived today. And your mother was more perfect than I could have ever dreamed.

[bigsnaff]

The Old Way

The Commander and Rytlock go on a little trip. It doesn't quite go as planned. Set between IBS and EoD. 1.5k words. CWs: injury, alcohol, descriptions of blood

"You ever been hunting the old way?"

Rytlock throws his shot back, and the whiskey burns his throat just about as much as the setting sun does his eyes. He leans back on his stool and gives her a look.

"Sure, few times." Just about every charr had, at least once or twice. Usually something reserved for the youngsters. Get that pent up energy burnt in a way that no morning drill ever could. "Been about a decade." He scratches behind a horn. "Or two." 

Strip off your plate armor and go running. Sink your fangs in. Bring back a fresh kill that your warband could fight over the best cuts of over a spit fire. Wasn't something he ever got too much into, really. Wasn't as much of a fan of gamey meat. But he knew Cyna was a different story.

She matches his position and leans back, her own drink long emptied, a look in her eyes. "Talked to a merchant yesterday. They made mention that some of the wild dolyak herds are finally migrating west of here. Wouldn't mind some help."

"Y'ever hunted dolyak?" Rytlock hums.

"No. You?"

"The wild ones? Big bastards. Meaner than the pack ones. Norn will take a whole party for just a couple of 'em. You aren't taking one down by yourself."

She grins, pointing between them. "No, but we can."

He has to laugh at that. "If you'd asked me ten years ago, maybe. But nah; I'm out for the count on crap like that anymore. Go ask Braham 'r something."

Braham was a sore spot, still. Rytlock wasn't even sure why he brought him up; the kid was still recovering. Physically. And mentally. They all were.

"I'm not asking Braham," Cyna says firmly, "I'm asking you."

He huffs. If one really needed the meat, then a gun or bow was just more efficient, plain and simple. But in this case, neither of them did. It wouldn't go to waste either way, sure, but Rytlock knew why she was ultimately asking. It was the same reason they were drinking together right now; more fun with company.

He swirls the contents of his fourth shot, looking down at the amber bubbles with a low, droning rumble in his chest. Not a good time to negotiate something like this. Mind addled.

He finally looks back up, catching Cyna's hard eyes. "And Reeva already said no?"

Her teeth grind a little as she looks away. Another sore spot. "Didn't ask. Won't ask."

"Right." He places a hand down on the table and leaves behind a few silver, sliding his remaining shot Cyna's way. She gives him a side-eye before her fingers wrap around it.

“So,” she brings the glass up to her lips, “what is it, Tribune?”

“Why the hell not.” Not like she hasn't pulled him into considerably worse. He'd even ask Crecia to come along if he knew she was so inclined. It was more of a warband activity, anyway. But he already knew what her answer would be, so he'd save it. “When were you planning on it?”

She flashes him a toothy smile. “Couple days from now. I can hold back longer if you need.”

“Nah, that sounds good. Was getting too stuffy here, anyhow.” He'd have to sharpen his claws. Maybe do some stretches; wasn't too fond of throwing his back out again. 

But yeah, it was time to get out of Grothmar.

------------

She'd been kicked in the head. If she wasn't charr, she wouldn't be here anymore. 

As it stood, charr had very hard skulls. Had to. Headbutting was practically a sport among them. But a kick from a yak was still a different story. Cyna looked like she'd been in something a little worse than just a fistfight. The red drained down her face and into her ashy fur, speckling the snow beneath. By the time Rytlock helped her shamble to their makeshift camp, the bleeding had only just started to wane.

“Taste copper…” she croons as she looks around aimlessly, like she didn't realize her nostrils were faucets for the blood. Rytlock takes her snout in a hand and looks her in the eyes. She just laughs and pats his arm. “Rytlock. Your fur.”

“Shut up.” A growl drones from his throat as he shoves her back — not harshly, but enough that she almost tips on her already unsteady feet. She has a concussion. He didn't really even need to look to figure that out. “You idiot. I told you to leave that one.”

Her lips slide back to reveal more red as she gives a wide grin. “Wuz the biggest meat.”

The adrenaline and bleariness would wear off soon and she'd be a real hydra to deal with, so he'd just take her ramblings for now and give her the lecture later. As if it would do much. She had an elaborate history of instances like this before they'd even met — back when Rytlock was given more than a few reports regarding a certain soldier under his command that had a penchant for ignoring orders and almost always suffering some sort of bloody consequence for it, in the most literal sense. 

He thought it was a good riddance when she and the rest of her warband fled from Blood to Ash. Until Duke Barradin.

Cyna absently hums an old marching melody as her tail thrashes to the rhythm in the snow. Rytlock finds himself humming along as he grabs his pack and pulls out Sohothin, poking it into the embers of their nearly-spent campfire. 

“No weapons, no nothing — just fangs and claws,” Cyna had insisted before their outing. That was just for the hunt. But Rytlock would sooner shave his fur than go this far into the Shiverpeaks without some kind of weapon. Not for the dolyaks, but anything else that lurked around the corner. Icebrood still haunted the territory, even if their puppetmaster was now nothing more than spikes of ice spraying across Anvil Rock. 

Soon, the campfire crackled anew but still hungered for fuel. He sheathes Sohothin at his belt and sits back, looking over toward Cyna again, who had the wit about her to shovel some snow up to her snout — the chill evidently numbing some of whatever pain must be becoming more apparent. Her bloodshot eyes screw shut with the pressure of her hand and a quiet hiss weaves through her teeth. He lets a chuckle escape him. Just the small one that he won't feel too bad for, because he knows that this entire trip won't amount to much of a lesson anyway after they head back — at least until Dokks catches sight of the new crook in their commander's nose.

Rytlock sighs and pulls his pack to his feet. “Y’hungry?” he asks. She doesn't give any indication that she heard him as he rifles through his cargo and pulls out some jerky. His stomach growls, but only because his mind wanders back to the dolyak and whatever fresh meat they could've been roasting over the fire right now instead of the plain and dried strips he's chewing. 

Maybe he'd try fishing instead. 

He could count on one hand the amount of times he'd gone fishing in his life and actually caught anything. But it couldn't go any worse than this.

After adequately nursing her nose, Cyna soon turns to him. “Do you have any—”

“No.”

“The hell was I going to say?” she growls, though the noise sounds less intimidating through her injury. He continues chewing and doesn’t look at her gnarly features. Hopefully the snow will keep the swelling down enough for them to actually do something about it soon.

“I’m not giving you any damn booze.”

“So you did bring some.”

Rytlock gives her a plain look. “You gonna fight me for it?”

She huffs and whips her head away from him like a cub. The quick action must’ve smarted because she hisses again and her hand comes up to her temple. He actually would give her some alcohol to pacify the pain, but he wasn’t about to let her pair that with a concussion of all things. The snow would have to do for now. He takes another bite of jerky and tosses a piece to Cyna, who just gives a grunt of thanks in lieu of anything else.

It didn’t feel like it did when he was younger, when it was only ever for the rush. When your claws dig into the dirt and you put all your weight behind that leap. Your teeth sink in for the death strike and blood rushes to meet your tongue. He didn’t get as far as that last step but it didn’t really matter to him anyway — because maybe that’s what living at the helm of apocalyptic scenarios innumerable will do to you. It all tastes like ash.

Or maybe the remaining embers were all but spent at Anvil Rock.

With a groan Rytlock gets to his feet, feeling his age. He thinks he’d be content to laze here in front of the flickering flame for another hour listening to Cyna mope and complain, but the fire needs fuel. 

[sleepyfan-blog]

Offer

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-trai’s fic! 

Previous.

Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel @bleedingichorhearts

Warnings: mild yandereness, worshipful speech/thoughts, Trai is So Normal:™: 

Summary: Trai has a brief chat with his lovely goddess. 

Trai was grateful beyond words that the little goddess who had rescued him from the torments he refused to tell her about in detail (not wanting to burden her with the miseries she had freed him from) had not only freed him from his literal chains, but upon learning that he could barely move, weakened by months if not years of near-starvation in addition to the wounds that his captors had inflicted upon him, had brought him to a large, well-lit facility that tended to sick and injured sea life. He had been... Wary of the human doctors who had approached him, the instruments they held far too similar to what others had used to torment him with - but you, his beautiful goddess had noticed his agitation and reached out, cupping his face and murmured words of reassurance. Explaining that they were there to clean his wound and patch him up to the best of their abilities. 

The fact that baseline analgesics and pain relievers were so effective on him, as they put him to sleep and worked on his badly injured body only spoke to how badly he had been injured by his previous captors. Trai also tried to bury the shame that he'd felt after waking from nightmares that he had once more woken up in the cruel hands of his captors, and that his little goddess coming to save him had been nothing but a pleasant if cruel dream and that he would never be rescued. Trai tried to pretend that part of him wasn't hurt that his previous warband hadn't tried to rescue him - for he would not go to them once his little goddess said that he was strong enough to return to the open oceans. He had let out a distress call, activated his emergency distress beacon. His armor had been recovered alongside the rest of him, and Trai had been graciously allowed by his lovely goddess to go through his things.

His captors had not deactivated the distress signal. He had asked if any other mers had been captured by those who had held them in their cruel grasp. The answer had been yes - a Lamenter had been recently captured, along with a semi-feral World Eater. Neither of them had been part of his old warband. Trai intended on doing whatever he could to prove himself to be an excellent devotee to his beloved, lovely little goddess. Baseline humans led such fleeing lives, but there were ways a mer could extend the life of a human. When he had the strength to do them, he would ask her if she wanted such a boon. 

His beautiful goddess worked in wildlife restoration, of helping the weak and the sick gain strength in safety and return them to the wilds from which they had been taken from. Trai found that you doing such a thing was incredible - and entirely fitting within your benevolent and kind nature. He just hoped that he would be able to prove to you that he would be an excellent addition to the team. He didn't need to breathe air as you and your fellow baseline humans did, and once he had the energy to do so, he called for you to watch as he crooned to a sick sea tortoise whose size and stubbornness made treating the creature nearly impossible to do so safely.

With the abilities granted to him by his genesire, Trai sung sweetly to the sick tortoise, putting the creature into a docile state. He followed the directions you gave him to the letter when it came to bandaging the damaged flipper and tending to the awful cracks in its' shell, smiling brightly at her as he finished tending to the beast and saying "Do you see, my lady? I can help you, as you have helped me. I have no wish to return to what I had been doing before I had been captured. Please let me stay at your side."

You blink in confusion and mild concern as you reach up and cup his face "But don't you miss the open waters? These healing tanks aren't meant for long term habitation."

Trai shook his head, leaning into your touch. While it wasn't against the letter of the laws that the alliance had hammered out, it certainly went against the spirit of those rules laid down, to explain what Astartes were. What they were created for, and why they patrolled the seas of Ancient Terra so faithfully. "I do not, my lady, and I am unlikely to miss them while you are here. I just want to help you, as you have helped me. Besides, I can do this now that I am better fed and am no longer at death's doorstep." He concentrated and began to swim through the air, bringing you up into his arms, eyes shining bright as he fights the temptation to kiss your stunned and fascinated face. "I can hold my breath for a very long time - and in my armor, I can survive the depths of space itself for prolonged periods of time."

"You... You can what?" You ask, a confused and curious expression appearing on your face. 

"I can swim like this through the void of space." Trai explains, a pleased grin appearing on his face "I am as at home in the air as I am in the sea, and I was made to withstand the sea of stars above. To-" He bites his lip and looks away from you, realizing he was saying more than he should.

"To... To what? Are you from outer space? Is there a reason why you chose Earth to live in? Why are you all so heavily armed most of the time? Is there some secret space war I don't know about?" You ask, equal parts curious and mildly nervous. 

"No, no.  We... Ah, I am not supposed to say, it is against the rules that the bossy ones have laid down to tell you... But if you ask me again, I will tell you alone, my lady." Trai murmurs, his voice dropping low "But I do warn you, it sounds... Very strange, and you are unlikely to believe me."

"Please tell me, I do want to know. We.. So many of us are so curious as to where you all came from. Sure there have been legends about merfolk for centuries, but no one had a credible account of seeing any of your people until about forty years ago or so." You ask, the curiosity is too much for you to not ask. Not with how Trai dangled the information in front of you.

"For reasons none of us can fathom, each of us suddenly wakes up somewhere on your world, waking up in a place that we've never been before. Most of the time we are in the water, but not always. As near as we can tell, it is peaceful in this solar system, although we do wear armor in case we are attacked by dangerous forces.  But your world is safe, it is protected. We will not let any enemy lay a hand on any of you. Not that those enemies are aware of your existence, and we do our best to ensure that stays true. You give us shelter and kindness. In return we do our best to protect you from dangers that would consume you, body and soul. Please ask me no more, I have sworn not to reveal more...  Unless..." Trai would be thrilled and honored if... Ah but you had your own life to live on land, and he wasn't like the greedy cousins and brothers who would force the change on their precious human, stealing them away from all they loved and knew. 

"Unless what?" You ask, curious.

"There are several ways to turn a human such as yourself into a being similar to myself. I... am not yet strong enough to do such a thing, and I would not turn you against your will. We merfolk live for hundreds, thousands of years without aging as humans do. Our bodies are strong and our minds keen. I... Intend to offer you this sort of immortality when I recover enough, but the decision is yours, and will be yours to decide as long as you live. I must caution you however. the transformation is permanent and one-way,as far as I know." Trai explains, looking at you with open adoration and care. "If you became like me, I would be able to explain everything."

"I... I see..." You were overwhelmed by the enormity of the offer, and while you desperately wanted to know what the merfolk (apparently merfolk from Space, holy fuck!) and their whole deal was about... Was your curiosity worth losing your humanity over? "Wh... Why would you offer me this? I'm just a sea life conservationist."

"You saved me from torment and a slow, miserable death, my lady. a fate that the... Group of merfolk I had been traveling with and considered as close as brothers did not attempt to do. Not even once. How could I not offer all that I can in repayment, my lady? I owe you my life and sanity, my lady. There is nothing within my power I wouldn't offer you, should you want it."Trai explains, his honey-brown eyes glowing softly, as were his many tattoos.

You... Hadn't realized just how intense this merman was and you were definitely struggling to figure out how in the fuck to respond. You could hear the near-manic edge of worship in his voice, and the open awe and devotion with which he looked at you.. It made your mouth run dry. Just what had you gotten yourself into? "I.. That's... That's quite the offer, Trai. I... It's not a decision I'd make lightly. Please give me time."

"As you wish, my lady." Trai croons, smiling sweetly down at you, still leaning into your touch. His honey brown eyes warm and filled with trust and.... An emotion you weren't sure you wanted to name. 

"You should return to your tank, Trai, some of your stitches are starting to pull." You point out.

The large mer blinked, looking down at himself and nodding "You're quite right, my apologies. I wouldn't want to ruin the careful work you did on helping keep me in one piece." He retreated back to his tank as your mind tried to process his offer... And the information he'd given you.

[telltalecoyote]

💌⚙️⚰️ for the OC(s) currently in your mind!

IM GONNA USE DUSTY, MY BELOVED OLD MAN

💌 - First crush/love

Back before Dusty got lost in the Mists and was known as Tribune Dawnbringer, he knew no reprieve from his duties-- nor did he want one! He loved working, he loved fighting, it made him feel fulfilled, but the only event he made time for was going down to The Bane to watch his close friend and warband member, Akhilleús Dawnpiercer, fight ferocious beasts and fellow charr. Dusty would say it's because he loved seeing fierce fights and the adrenaline that came from them, but the notes in his journals showed otherwise, the long faded sketches of Akhilleus and his spear, the detailed doodles of his musculature... it's all in the past now

⚙️ - Coworkers/boss (krewe/other charr outside of warband)

Dusty was all but forced to reclaim his position as tribune by Crecia herself, he had no desire to do so, but for his greater vision of the legions he begrudgingly realized that this would take him one step closer to doing so; leading to an awkward work relationship with Crecia herself, even she can see through his flat demeanor to see his discomfort in all their meetings.

⚰️ - Someone they lost (not necessarily dead)

After returning from the Mists, Dusty was painfully unaware of how much time had passed, which memories in his head were real-- which ones belonged to the REAL Dusty of this timeline, but one thing was certain, his warband was nowhere to be found, the only member to have been memorialized was Dusty himself, even if he was no longer recognizable to the charr he passed by on the daily. While he claims to have been unaffected by this, unflinching in his newfound duties, he feels a deep pain knowing he'd never see his old warband again; especially Akhilleus

THANK YOU FOR ASKING ME, I LOVE THESE THINGS

[bhuerracus]

My GW2 Main OC: Luphom

i realized i haven't posted my gw2 oc / toon yet. her name is Luphom! i was going to draw her for this post but drawing armor is so hard, but i promise ill give you a drawing later with a more accurate physical appearance. she's my main character and is a bit of a self-insert, not 100% of course but still be kind. i do have other OCs i am working on but they need more time in the oven.

also, i still have to complete the story, so all of this is before she becomes the Commander. i have to think if i want the GW2 story to be canon to her storyline. so far im thinking no, but we'll see. im kind of new to this sort of thing so im still getting used to fan fiction, OCs, RP etc. in general. so, if i am missing some CWs, tags, etc. please let me know!! i do not wish to make anyone see something they do not want to see.

with that out of the way click the "Read more" to learn more about her!

Content Warnings: tragic backstory (bullying, CPTSD (neglect and abuse), no specific details are given beyond what i just said), redemption.

name: Luphom

age: old

basic personality: the fun grandma who would give the grandkids cookies even when the parents beg for her not to do so. tries to be nice to everyone. angers and gets mean quickly when she feels wronged, but she's working on it. big "HIS PRONOUNS ARE THEY/THEM!!!!" energy, she does her best. will be the first to defend anyone she feels is being wronged, the first to notice when someone is trying to say something but can't get a word in, and interrupts everyone to let them speak.

physical appearance: a white and grey Charr. fat! has lots of tufts of fur on her face. fuzzy. totally covered in scars, some missing teeth.

gender: transgender woman, transitioned late into her life after repressing it for a very long time.

sexuality: says she's heterosexual, loves big strong men, but also, she is one big strong woman away from finding out she's bisexual.

basic backstory: after childhood neglect and abuse at the hands of her birth family, and then bullying in the fahrar, she found the one thing that gave her the positive attention and affection she craved and stopped the abuse: power.

she learned to be mean and brutal, and trained constantly so that no one would treat her poorly and give her respect. it worked. she was a force to be reckoned with.

however, as an adult, when this was no longer necessary and she could stop pretending to be a Cold and Cruel Badass, she realized the people she was surrounded with were all just as cruel as she was, but they weren't pretending.

she felt trapped, having to choose between being lonely, or being someone she was never meant to be. it took years, and as she slowly began to return to the kinder, softer person her childhood self was, the bullying began again, this time as an adult and from her friends and peers who looked down on her "new" "weakness". to them, she slowly became a completely different person. a spineless coward.

after self-reflection, a couple of hard choices, A Life-Changing Experience, and then finally the realization that she is a woman and always wanted to be but was never allowed to, she threw away her skills as a Warrior, her warband, and her past achievements on the battlefield to be happy and become her true self: a lady who loves to dress up, spoil loved ones, and get silly with it.

she is currently a Ranger who is looking to learn about all the animals that exist on Tyria.

likes: talking and chatting, puzzles, cooking, Snargle Goldclaw books, animals (especially ones she feels are mistreated like bugs), changing outfits weekly, bird-watching, giving affection, spoiling people silly, flirting (but will explode if you flirt back), art, being kind to those she sees no one else is kind to

dislikes: being ignored and ignoring others, reading, bigotry of any kind, arguing, the constant nightmares which haunt her every waking moment, boiled vegetables

[commanderhorncleaver]

📎 ✨ 💎 for the old man

Ask Game

📎 - Siblings/close family

Gaius is closest to his sister Lucasta, and his cubs Augustus and Raevik. As discussed before, he had SOMETHING of a paternal role for Lu-- after they recommence contact and begin to interact, they spend very well most of their time around or in direct contact with one another. This presents challenges for them as they grow and age over the course of story, especially during IBS and the time after. Gaius loves her, and is proud of her, but at its base, they are both extraordinarily emotionally stunted, and due to their VERY different upbringings, struggle to show how they care, or do so in unhealthy ways.

Augustus is Gaius' oldest cub, at almost 25 during personal story. It would be accurate to say that Gaius' insights from his interactions with his son in the fahrar, and later on stepping in to keep him from being discharged as gladium (or worse) have shaped how he views younger soldiers. Raevik is a week younger than his older brother(s-- August does have a twin, who is not nearly as interested in the family). Raevik first meets his sire circa LWS3 and begins to hang around, initially--largely-- spying and looking to learn about Gaius and his warband. Gaius for his part is eager and excited (or as excited as he can be) and pretty openly allows Raevik the time and space, for he genuinely seems interested in learning how and why Gaius is successful, and who Gaius and the others are. In turn, he begins to take after the Horns as well.

✨ - Children (current or future)

Gaius... is a prolific sire, and has a good many cubs. However, the most notable--he does keep track, and there are methods for guessing if he named them or not-- are Augustus Silverhorn, Fulvius Smokelash, Raevik Flowscryer, Brutus Quietflame, Malcolm Boneslake, Gloryana (she's like, 3.), Almorra, Magpie, Jackdaw, Regulus...

💎 - Chosen family (including warband)

THE HORNS!!!! He adopts children like no tomorrow, and many can't take on the Horn name, but among them include Pythus Swifttail, Kudo Pyrehorn, Phlunq Blighthorn.

[brightwingedbat]

Pyraxus on brain time for some Flame Legion boy lore

Pyraxus Wrathscald, then Searcull was originally the leader of the Cull warband in flame, alongside his fellow Magus Aethercull among other warbandmates.

Pyraxus had a mate back in flame called Lucia, but it was kept on the down low, due to the history between flame female charr and shamans.

Eventually, this relationship was found out, about 7 years before Personal Story. And without Pyraxus' input, other shamans deemed Lucia a criminal who attempted to 'tempt Pyraxus away from the Flame Gods' path' and sacrifice her to the flame.

Needless to say Pyraxus becomes enraged, his eyes opened, and many flame shamans burn at his own hand before he makes his escape from the legion. Full of rage at what they're doing, full of guilt that he's been spending his life doing the same.

With a want to atone, and to make the Flame Legion pay for all they did, not only taking Lucia from him, but that the smoke cleared that Lucia isn't the only one subject to it.

He betrays to Ash, believing that Blood and Iron would kill him on the spot. He weighs his Flame Shaman intel for a place in Ash, and is accepted into Ash Centurion Igna Earthvein's warband as Pyraxus Embervein.

From here until Icebrood Saga, he would act as an Ash soldier, and learn Guardian magic to enhance his fire attunement. Life as he knew was completely different, and he had a harsh time as an ex-shaman. Thankfully Igna being an elementalist herself kept the warband he was in from pressuring him much about it.

He would respect the charr women more as equals in his time spent here, which adds further guilt to the way he saw Lucia as 'his alone.' Even if that was how she was comfortable with it being back then.

Come Icebrood Saga, and Efram Greetsglory creating a New Flame, Pyraxus was sceptical. And as part of Ash began to monitor them, he had the best chance at fitting in due to being ex-flame.

But it turned out that Efram's flame really wasn't anything like the old, Pyraxus was very quickly found out to be an Ash spy. And yet, this very thing manages to turn his wants. He doesn't want to be stuck in Ash, still dealing with the prejudice of being an ex-shaman.

He would join Efram's flame, beginning from the bottom. Working his way back up, eventually even making Centurion quickly as his dedication to this New Flame being exactly what he sees Flame should be.

It's also here he meets his old warbandmate Magus, still leading the rest of the band he abandoned. Magus' face is scarred and his eyes blinded, as it turns out he ended up taking the blame for Pyraxus' betrayal.

Despite them both now being on the same side again, Magus never stops holding a grudge on Pyraxus. And Pyraxus never asks for forgiveness, he doesn't want it.

And on that note, Pyraxus just does not think he should be forgiven, despite his path to atone. To be forgiven is to forget what he did, and he needs that to stay on his path of atonement. Just the same, he has no care for ever getting into a relationship with another charr again, for none could replace Lucia to him.

[diamond-dangeresque]

The mess hall was the busiest room in the Grothmar citadel today, soldiers pouring in and out to dine on meals in comfort and privacy. Far away from strangers to the land, further still even from the Charr of other Legions. Conversations held from the earshot of overly observant centurions. Whispers and murmurs held in the sanctity of a room without any Ashen spooks.

Which makes Chihiro's presence all the more unwelcome in the hall.

Some of the Charr in the room break from their meals to look at the Human. They stare. The skinned warhound acting as a mantle draws attention, brings alight bad memories of "old Ascalon relics" found in the ruins of the former capital. They whisper amongst themselves, the absurdity of a mouse watching them through a blindfold, arms crossed with a selfsure grin. Many chuckle. Some grumble. A few perform something akin to a self-ward with their hands, the performers chided by compatriots around them for their superstitious behavior. He's just a mouse in a blindfold, they'd say in a manner of paraphrase, we're not dealing with a Flame shaman here. A few humor the idea aloud of throwing a dagger or firing a pistol at the mouse, see if he reacts at all. (Chihiro would love to see them try. Even if any claims of "self-defense" or "fuck around and find out" would fall flat in a place like this.)

Standing at his left is the presence of Kalla Scorchrazor, her gaze scanning over the room just as Chihiro's is through the cloth. She had previously admired the statue of her likeness just behind the Herald, noted its composition of "Searing Cauldron bronze," approved of the good use of metal. But this place was a shitshow, and this mess hall was a pretty little microcosm of that. Blood soldiers purposefully, willingly, kept separate from other Charr. Non-Charr "encouraged" to stay in more public areas, outside of the Keep and especially away from "Charr common rooms". Corralled outside, in the open, where others can watch from afar and with scrutiny. In the open: nothing but respect and honor and tact. Behind closed doors: about three steps from belting out slurs and hateful rhetoric, because it's "safe" over here. No judging eyes. No ethics violations.

Chihiro had respect for the ways the Legions trained their Charr. He was now reconsidering such a notion.

She had seen through the Herald's eyes what fruit the seeds of this Human-Charr peace treaty had wrought, what peace it had allowed the Charr to experience. It was a peace she envied dearly for her living years, something to gift to her cubs if only she had it. And to imagine someone willingly tossing that all away, to cling to old self-destructive ideas and memories of long-gone days, to fan flames that long should have been doused...it was the Flame shamans and their uprising all over again. She could already smell the burning fur as she thought of it.

As for Chihiro, he's fought Renegades before: the large, disparate warband started by those who didn't believe in the treaty of peace between the Kingdom of Kryta and the High Legions of the Charr. They broke off in droves over decades. Entire families raised and trained in the life of killing humans to hold up a war rapidly losing its last legs. Brainwashed into blind hatred, ignorant malice, fearful paranoia. Renegades kill some Humans, they make some Separatists out of the survivors; in turn they kill some Charr, they make some Renegades out of their survivors. A pair of snakes each devouring the other's tail. It wasn't going to end for them unless one side was just a mountain of corpses. These Renegades, they didn't seem to care. The bodies were the point of their exclamation mark: better dead than in league with mice.

"What do you think?" Chihiro asks Kalla, head turning to further scan the room. "Any of these fellas seem...backstabby to you?"

"Not particularly," Kalla answers, snout twitching and dragging part of her upper lip with it. Her ears twitch, trying to hone in on any interesting conversations held within the aisles of the mess hall. "Talks of recruiting cubs and greenhorns into traitorous ranks so casually held in this room don't give me any confidence, all being said."

"They think I can't do jack about what they're saying." Chihiro chuckles. Some of the Charr nearest to him turn their heads slightly. "That it's their word, their superior's word, versus mine and the Pact's. We'll see about that." He begins to walk towards the doorway, some of those nearest-to-him Charr spooked at the sudden peep he had let out after who-knows-how long he had held his tongue up until now. "Oh. Whoops~✨"

"That wasn't a slip," Kalla chides.

"Can't prove or disprove it either way," Chihiro chuckles, shrugging as he passes Brokenstone at the door. "But we've got good intel. We can rejoin Kasmeer and Efram at–" He notices the warband general's shoulders tense up. Tail stiffened and swishing. "...You good?" Brokenstone leans forward a touch, eyeing the Human talking to himself. Weirdo.

No. Frankly, never. It was bad enough seeing the Flame Legion persist centuries after their fall from power and grace. To see them grovelling back to the Legions? To plead for acceptance, forgiveness, after everything they've done to the Charr as a whole? Nigh unforgivable! "Let's move on, Herald." But that wasn't her choice to make. And it wasn't her place to judge the actions of modern Charr by antiquated standards; the so-called Renegades do enough of that as it is.

"Roger, ma'am." Chihiro kept tabs on Kalla's touchiness towards Flame Legion; he knows of the Scorch warband's history well enough, yeah, but he didn't anticipate a response as undisciplined as this. Then again, this whole "party" had been one conga line of surprises after another. He didn't expect Aurene to crash the party the way she did. He didn't expect the Blood Legion Imperator to be a snobby politician with fascistic goals in his horned head. He definitely didn't expect the party to be a cover for a mass levy attempt, and he absolutely didn't anticipate Rytlock's boy to be in the center of this spiked web.

But, despite being deprived of his precious and rare alcohol, the flavor of this mission's intrigue kept him going. He wanted to see this through to its end, in whatever shape that took. "I'll call in Kasmeer; I think we need to go undercover for this."

[bolters-and-rivets]

the following is putting out a call for like minded folks willing to do some spitballing with me

I'm asking for help in fleshing out my iron warriors warband. any ideas would be apreciated but I tend to struggle most often with names and labels. I've never done OCs for warhammer, so this is like training a new muscle for me.

For the name of the warband I'm thinking The 391st Grand Battalion, informally referred to as The Trench Breakers.

the flavour of the warband is, for lack of a better term, a "liberal" Iron Warriors warband. They still have the cold bitterness that defines the legion, but they're a bit softer round the edges than one might expect for a warband of the 4ft legion.

don't expect any warm comradery, but the fond sharing of war stories around camp, commiserating over ones lot in life, and perhaps the occasional firm but gentle words of advice from a grizzled leutennant to a fresh recruit, are the order of the day for down time among The Trench Breakers.

there would be a strong sense of comraderie, a sense of pride, around being a member of the 4th legion, that would seep right down to the most lowely cultist, that other 4th legion warbands would send to die without a second thought:

"Every warrior who has heard the thunder of guns, or seen the breaking of the sky is an Iron Warrior at heart. Every person who has raised a blade, who has spilled blood, was an Iron Warrior. And every one of us has been lied to, used, broken, bled and forgotten"

In fact, one might look to the hords of cultists and renegade militarum of the 391st and find a surprising number of abhumans, mutants, and even zenos; if you can hold a lasgun or a blade, then all are welcome equally under the banner of the 4th legion in the 391st Grand Batallion.

their brothers among other Iron Warriors warbands would look at them and think they've gone soft, that they are too human, but any Astartes of the 391st will tell you that those legionaries have forgotten the tactical advantage of recruiting soldiers and giving them something proud to fight for over rounding up the latest batch of captives and pointing them at the enemy with a bolter at their back.

to quote an old terran warlord:

“Regard your soldiers as your children, and they will follow you into the deepest valleys; look upon them as your own beloved sons, and they will stand by you even unto death.”

The Trench Breakers have spent time studying the ascended units of other, more corrupted, legions and decided their effectiveness in combat worthy of inclusion into their own ranks, even at the cost of ones physical purity, which is to say that Nurglite plague marines, Tzeenchian Rubrics, Khornite Bezerkers, and Slaaneshi Noise Marines, demon possesed astartes, and demon engines are all used in abundance, 4th legion colours notwithstanding.

What's that? Iron Warriors don't worship chaos? The warsmith can't hear your complaints about warp taint over the sound of you being torn apart by a possesed space marine, feel free to deposite your complaints into the provided trash recepticle at his feet before succumbing to your injuries

and this is about where my imagination runs out

Iron Within! Iron Without!

[lysblack]

Alright, now for the important question:

Nere enthusiasts, how do we headcanon our evil failure boi to have been stuck on the surface? Is he an exile, and why? Did he screw up and got cast out/abandoned by a warband? Maybe he failed to assassinate his superior and had to flee?

This might also be linked to the reason why he got to survive in Menzoberranzan up to a certain point without being killed, even if he's canonically a chronic failure. (Also it may be tied with the fact that he's an absolute - pun intended - fine snacc and he can exploit that to his advantage).

Asking for fanfic purposes, this drow needs more love (and many more other things, but we'll just say "love" to keep this post sfw).

I think I'll go with the old failed assassination thing on his superior while on a warband on the surface, he barely fled and got taken in by the Absolute cultists (maybe it started with him wanting to use them to his advantage but then got tadpoled and royally screwed - not in a fun way) but I'm open to better and more interesting ideas!!

[kit-williams]

First "I Love you"

This fic will have multiple short POVs of both the male lead which will be by name and also the female lead which will be denoted by their pet names/nicknames Universe/AU: Warhammer 40k/Yandere Space Marines Canon Status: Yeah boys this be canon (unless I contradict myself later)

(If you all want the rest of the boys not included here feel free to ask)

Palion He thinks it as soon as he sees her scars and the fear in her eyes as her old master goes to put her down like some unwanted creature. He holds it close to his chest until he sees his Muse smile at him... a genuine thing she gives to him without expecting something back. It falls from his lips like a bottle of wine shattering on the floor... an accidental thing to smash out on the white marble. But it is not rejected and the stain of that spilt confession remains stained into the white marble.

Muse She doesn't know when she first thought of her feelings for Palion became love. But she remembers when she first tried to tell him that she loved him. He stopped her halfway through saying it... somehow he knew she didn't fully mean it. He would stop her every time she would try to say it... but finally one day... she hardly remembers what led up to it but it was after he had given her something handmade... she loved it and it slipped out that she loved him too. It was when she learned when Palion truly cried he was an ugly crier.

-----

Harram He firsts thinks it when he sees Ori hold her baby just cooing to Farum and Harram feels a desire well up inside of him that he wants to see her holding something of his... seeing Farum and this non existent baby just be siblings. He nearly says it after she begs for him to leave his touch where the xeno's left their own touch. He finally tells her when she tries to head home to leave him alone and she asked why she couldn't and he blurted out that is was because he loved her... and much to his surprise... she stayed.

Ori She is surprised when she thinks it... when she sees Harram holding Farum when he is fussing somewhat fiercely. Harram having the same somewhat calm face that her husband once held even if he was in pain or annoyed just that calm smile. She tells him after he confesses it to her... after the sex they have after he tells her is when she tells him and it hurts because the way his eyes sparkle remind her of her man... but he was never one to want her to dwell on the past.

-----

Ghosk He cannot exactly remember when he first thought it... it just happened... the way she would sleep against him no matter whenever they would go she no longer struggled when wrapped up in his wings. He remembers more of when he first said it... him keeping her warm as she slept cold to the bone a tiny fire popping as the rain outside trapped them in some hovel. He had made an enemy of the last warband he was apart of... they really needed to stop trying to touch his rabbit. But he was holding her closely before he realized he was kissing her neck and it just slipped out. How ironic he was the first to let it slip and like a typical Night Lord he was a coward about it... telling her when she couldn't reject his confession. He told her when she was awake after she told him but he always knew he told her first.

Rabbit She doesn't remember when she thought it but remembers when she told him. He had gotten himself so very hurt that he was with the apothecary of the warband they were with for a long time... she just remembers it slipping out when her came back and she hugged him because she had gotten scared he had died. She was happy he didn't tease her for her impromptu confession.

-----

Spaseniye She first thought it one night after drinking... the way his arms wrapped around her tightly and with how warm he was. She almost slurred it out but he stopped her. She slurred it out without thinking as the two of them laid together panting in the heat post sex some other night. She didn't realized she had said it nuzzling his soft chest feeling the black carapace just underneath the layer of fat... not seeing the look in his eyes.

Zul He thought it when his Spaseniye had first said it... as the sweat of a long built up desire finally broke free rolled down their skin. He nearly said it back but he didn't. He was something that didn't deserve her love. He finally said it after their second child together after she tried to figure out what they were and he reassured her what they were. He still tells it to her in the moments no one can steal from him or use them against him.

-----

Tulio He thinks it when he sees her again. He so wishes to boast it was love at first sight... Tulio realizes when he looks for her and sees her he knows he's seen her in the market and by that fountain so many times... He can't pinpoint when he had first glanced at her face in the crowd or how often he would see her in passing but he only started observing her. He says it the first night she is truly his and he finds himself unable to stop.

Psychi She thinks it after a picnic... after the buzz that his mouth brought to her... how she laid under him just blushing and dazed from his kisses. And the amber necklace he ties around her throat all of that dazes together. She says it after he pours his heart to her feeling truly valued.

-----

Zhur He tells Dolli that he loves her after Thallos is born. Years of work and lives spent to get to this far and finally he tastes the fruit of his experimenting. There was a tiny wriggling life in his hands... he looks to her pale and sweating as her eyes keep looking at the baby and when offered she takes him without a thought. This is when Zhur feels it on his lips. He finally says it to her when she is asleep as Thallos sleeps on her chest, her aquilia wrapped around her hand that rests on the baby's back. He knows he's a coward for whispering it to her now when she is asleep... but he eventually does tell it to her when she is awake and she looks at him like he is insane with the way he told her. He laid a heart bare to her... and while she didn't eagerly take it... she didn't stab it and that was good enough for Zhur.

Dolli She would like to have said that she never told Zhur that but she did. She thought it after Naxos was born and seeing the large man coo to the babe when they were safe behind closed doors. She said it when sobbing on the bathroom floor when she was pregnant with Zekyr as she was held by him trying to calm her down. Thallos and Naxos crying in their room as another space marine laid dead in the threshold of the bathroom. Zhur's blood dripping into her hair and smearing on her skin. He replied with "I know" at first before it hit him what she had said and he got her to repeat it. And he vowed to always keep her safe.

-----

Bäckerin She thinks it when she still back on her planet as she watches Roland protect her from one of the Xeno's leaping at her. Watching the creature slam into his shield before he drives his sword into the beast. She nearly screams it when she is caught in the shelling with Roland as he is above her crooning words to soothe her. She finally says it when he comes back from his month of penance for his sin of stealing her away.

Roland He thinks it when he is praying to the God Emperor about the mortal that smells of memories long forgotten. He prays for her death to be quick and painless... but he prays that should she survive that it be the sign. When he says it... he says it nearly every day of his month long exile and separation from the rest of the black templars... when he tells her? When he returns letting it slip out in tandem with her confession... he never stops saying it... chanting it as he loves her that very night.

Fluffuary taglist: @bispecsual @the-californicationist @egrets-not-regrets @libraryshadow @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog

[whining-ylthin]

Sometimes I remember Mike Brooks' "The Long Promise" and I go absolutely batshit.

Solomon may have as well proposed to Tulava when he grabbed <redacted spoiler for "Harrowmaster"> and went to that Deathwatch outpost BY HIMSELF to <redacted spoiler for "The Long Promise">. That was absolutely saying "I love you" in Space Marine, and DOUBLY SO FOR AN OTHERWISE QUITE PRAGMATIC AND CALCULATING ALPHA LEGIONNAIRE WHO BY HIS OWN ADMISSION PUTS THE GOOD OF THE LEGION AND THE WARBAND ABOVE HIS PERSONAL GOALS. You could have just rigged that station to explode and shut down all emergency escape systems so the otherwise kind of unimportant target wouldn't get away, but no, YOU HAD TO GO AND DO IT ALL IN PERSON, AND IT WAS ALL FOR *ONE MORTAL WOMAN*. You've made far greater personal sacrifices to fuck over the Inquisition and get <redacted>, but then you make one little promise to old auntie Tul over there and suddenly you're putting your own life and an absolutely priceless artifact on the line for it.

Peak wifeguy behavior, I love this absolute madman.