#fall of ultramar

[moodymisty]

so ummm. i also caught cato sicarius fleas. idk what happened but now i want to be bullied by the big arrogant blueberry. send help.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I hope this is what you meant by bullying cause uuuuuuuuuh -microwave noises-

Summary: Cato Sicarius tires of being your just your escort.

Relationship: Cato Sicarius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd but not nsfw, dubcon, bullying sorta, Titus is an Ultrachad™ and Sicarius gets jealous you like him and tries to show you who the captain of 2nd company really is (which is still Titus in my heart but in this case no) Nonconsensual kissing, Armor kink, choking kinda, Demeaning behavior

He is worth more than this.

Cato Sicarius is captain of 2nd company, one of the most honored Ultramarines in this millennium. He is worth more than guard duty, escorting around baseline humans. One of Guilliman’s prized diplomats perhaps might be worth more than a common guardsmen, but in his eyes, you’re nothing more than an idea he deems largely stupid.

His genefather had been collecting diplomats as of late. Sicarius sees little need in it, but as his Primarch insisted he grits his teeth and bares it. He must have ideas beyond his scope to understand, though it doesn’t mean that Sicarius doesn’t struggle to see the logic.

“Motion sick, Captain Sicarius?”

One of the younger marines dares to joke at his petulant expression.

“We are worth more than shuffling around diplomats,”

Sicarius spits out in response, and you speak up. You’ve been within hearing distance this entire trip, and even in the silence everyone could hear Sicarius seething.

“Your fellows don’t seem to mind.”

You’ve heard from them that Sicarius is more than a harsh captain; He’s a stoic, pompous man in need of a hit to his ego. Even by Ultramarine standards. Once you’d broached the subject, the men in 2nd company escorting you a previous time had been quite eager to complain.

The Thunderhawk lands and you can hear the engines kill off one by one, and the rear ramp falls. There’s a significant gap between it and the ground, and while the Ultramarines walk down as normal, for you it’s a hefty drop.

Lieutenant Titus, whom you’ve had multiple interactions with before at this point, turns just before you’re about to jump and reaches a hand outward. You accept his hand and take the jump off the ramp.

“Thank you, Titus.”

He nods, but says nothing. You follow beside him and for a moment realize you’ve lost sight of Sicarius, before Titus speaks up and distracts you.

“You’ve already spoken to Lord Gulliman?” You nod and cross your arms, entering the massive fortress and escaping from the harsh winds.

“Yes. Only to give me a few necessary details. I imagine he has far more to do than speak to me.” You laugh and gently pat the arm of Titus’ armor, fingers brushing against the dents and scratches.

“But we can only hope they’ll see reason," you say, referring to the planetary officials you're currently going to meet. "I’d hate for lord Guilliman to be forced on employing harsher measures.”

Titus nods in a gentle understanding, and you continue deeper into this fortress area you’ve been welcomed to. Sicarius elects to post himself outside of the room you’re delegated to have this meeting in, alongside two other of his men. The rest, including Titus, whose face he cannot stand anymore at the moment, will post inside.

With his hearing and the systems in his helmet he can just hear the goings on inside the closed room, hearing your lighter voice in contrast to the others in the room.

She's a useful and gifted diplomatic negotiator, Guilliman had said about you the first time he had placed Sicarius in charge of escorting you. Make sure she isn't harmed, her work is important to keeping Ultramar under control.

If the old planets of Ultramar don't wish to conform with Guilliman's return, they should be applying force to demand they submit, not touting around fellow baseline humans to placate them.

Sicarius', stuck in his own head, wrinkles his forehead and scoffs. A younger marine beside him looks for just a moment, before rubbing his nose with his gauntlet and looking away. Sicarius can hear you issuing farewells now, and since there was a notable lack of yelling, he assumes it went well enough.

Sicarius turns to the other marines beside him, his hand on the pommel of his chainblade. He turns just as the doors open, and gestures to his men while you stand behind them.

“All of you start returning to the Thunderhawk and watch our perimeter, I will escort her back myself.” They hesitate for only the tiniest moment, but do begin to take their leave. They have no ability to refuse their captain, no matter how odd the request.

You watch them walk past you, before Sicarius’ voice cuts the air like a knife and forces your eyes to him.

“With me.”

You don’t have any reason to refuse him per se, so you follow him with an apprehensive feeling, and expression.

"Shouldn't we return to the-"

"Quiet."

Your lip curls, though you're still apprehensive as you end up somewhere far from where you entered, and he stops your walking his a rough hand on your shoulder. Astartes are lightning fast; He doesn't it before you even truly realize. With said hand he pushes you against the wall, and knocks the air from your lungs, and his hand moves to your face instead. He presses your cheeks inward, your breath is harsh as your fingers try to pull at his gauntlet.

“What are you doing?”

You say trying to wrench yourself free, fear in your eyes. Such a task is impossible however, and Sicarius uses his other hand to pull off his helmet and hang it on his thigh. His short hair is messy, and his cheeks are flush red. With anger or something else you have no idea, though you know he is furious.

“You’ve gotten too comfortable with your lack of respect; Being Lord Guilliman’s favorite.” You lose any bit of snark when you realize Sicarius is deathly serious. An angry astartes isn’t something you ever want to face, and color drains from your face as you realize how tightly you're stuck between him and the wall.

"You're far too delicate and small to be walking around like you can order Ultramarines around. Titus only allows you because he knows he's being watched after his incident."

His nose wrinkles, and he glances away as his lips shift, trying to find the words.

“Why do I always get stuck with you,” He growls, speaking about how he shouldn’t be escorting around Imperium parchment pushers. You hesitantly look up at him, face red from his tight grip.

"I," You open your mouth just a bit, trying to find something to say that might calm him down, though it seems like he's mad at something in his own head, as much as he is you.

But you can't find the words, nor would you even have the time to say them, as Sicarius' face leans downward to smash his lips against yours, and freeze you in the sheer shock of it. You have no hope of pushing him away despite your effort and his gauntlet keeps your face firmly forward; You can feel his hot breath on your skin, and his even hotter skin against your own. His lips are rough, you can feel tiny scars rub against your own softer lips, his hand gripping your jaw forcing your mouth somewhat open. His kiss is so angry it doesn't feel entirely like one, when he moves his teeth brush against your bottom lip, and for a moment you think he's going to bite it.

When he pulls away you can hear the soft pop of your lips separating, and see the shine of your spit on his mouth.

“Sicar-“

He does it again, your hands grasp the collar of his chestplate for leverage to try and push him away, and to stay upright. He’s barely letting you breathe, and when his hand moves from your jaw you’re gasping for air. Though his hand simply moves to press against your collarbone, still keeping you pinned between the wall and him; It's just high enough that it slightly presses against your neck, and you can feel his one armored knee force itself between your legs. You smack his chestplate desperately for air, and he pulls his mouth away from you for a brief moment as you gasp.

He only returns moments later however, but in that brief moment you see his face had less anger than it had earlier. You feel his nose press against your cheek, how cold his armor feels as you desperately grasp it.

Your legs wobble as you groan into his mouth, and when he finally pulls himself far enough away from you and takes his supporting knee from between your legs, you crumble to your knees holding your chest and taking in air.

On the floor you're at height with his thighs, and he leans over just enough to grab your face gently.

“If you’re going to be in my company again, I’ll expect you to be on better behavior. You should act as soft as you look.”

His hand leaves your face, gently pushing as he does.

“Captain Sicarius, are you still returning to the Thunderhawk?” An astartes calls him with vox in his helmet, and Sicarius grabs it off of his belt. It'll help hide how red his lips are from how hard he kissed you, your own looking similar; He wipes his mouth with the back of his armored hand before slipping it on and responding.

“We are. I’ll be there in a moment. Just a small detour”

Sicarius casts a glance to you, out of breath with your hand on your chest, before grabbing your arm and gently hauling you up to your feet.

"Not a word about this."

He says, and you can feel his gaze through his helmet. You wipe your mouth with your hand, feeling your swollen lips and the spit on your face.

"Lead the way, Captain Sicarius."

[sleepyfan-blog]

In The Medbay

Author’s Note: This is the second part of Pallius’ in Husbandry. First. Other Black Templar adventures here. Thank you to @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me borrow her oc Zariel!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @i-am-a-dragon34 

Warnings: none? Please ask me to tag something if I need to.

Summary: Pallius wakes up. He’s surprised by this. This is only the first of many surprises in store for the young Black Templar.

Pallius was pleasantly surprised to find himself awake. Considering how badly He had beaten him, the young Primaris Marine hadn’t expected to survive it. He wouldn’t have been the first Primaris Marine to fall to Petras’ bad temper and lethal hands, though he knew that the medicae would do their best to stabilize him, if he was able to be found in time. How he had ended up on a world with civilians on it, when he had been aboard The Sigismund when the punishment Petras had been delivering unto him moments ago made no sense whatsoever. 

His wounds ached somewhat, but far less than he was expecting them to… Was… Was he being given morpha, to relieve some of his pain? Pallius’ eyes shot open, and the view of an astartes-sized and grade medical bay filled his vision. He spotted a couple of Ultramarine apothecaries tending to other patients, moving swiftly and efficiently between them. 

… How had he ended up on a world of Ultramar? The Sigismund had been deep in Imperium Nihilus, chasing rumors of a second Primarch's possible awakening… And the strange moments of The Dark Angels…

Well, stranger movements of the Dark Angels. That particular chapter of Astartes had always been extremely secretive and unwilling to explain anything whatsoever. The way they operated reminded him of the Silver Bastard Trainers back on Mars. The ones he wasn't supposed to talk or even think about very much.

Despite the odd mysteries before him, his mind wandered back to the young mortal who had first found him, upon this world. She had been scared for him, and so earnestly trying to help. Her light touches had soothed wherever they had landed, and her voice had been a soothing balm to his ragged, guilt-ridden soil. Pallius needed to find her.

The young Black Templar looked down at himself assessingly. He had an IV attached to a clear plastic bag that was dripping… Something into his veins. His wounds that needed it were bandaged and presumably cleaned beforehand, per proper protocols.

And if there was one thing Ultramarines were good at, it was following proper protocol. Most of them, anyways.

Pallius’ body was covered by some egregious thin and flimsy light blue smock-thing and a blanket. He wiggled his toes, finding them free of the Vile Abominations known as socks, and bare. He needed to find that baseline mortal and thank her for what she had done. It was as if someone had tied steel cabling to the deepest part of his soul and tethered him to that mortal girl. He found that he did not mind this tether, but the near-frantic urge to find her and keep her safe and happy was enough to force him up and off of the comfortable bed.

A wave of morpha-induced dizziness hit Pallius hard as he managed to silently heave himself off of the bed and onto his bare feet. His fingers clumsily tied the blanket around himself over one shoulder in a parody of a toga, but it was better than the gown-thing he was wearing underneath the blanket alone.

One of his hands flew over to and grasped the IV pole, allowing himself to steady against it. Some clever soul had attached wheels to the base of the pole, which meant pushing it and the IV attached to him a lot easier. His wounds all protested simultaneously at the movement, but Pallius ignored them with all of the grit and determination that he could muster.

Pallius allowed himself a couple of seconds to breathe silently through the pain before taking a quiet step toward the medbay doors. Then another. Then a third. The young Black Templar moved slowly and with caution, so as to not aggravate his still-healing wounds to the best of his abilities, willing none of the Apothecaries to come over and bother him.

He had a (self-imposed) mission to complete, and by the God Emperor Himself, Pallius would see it done, or die in the process. Nothing and no one would be able to stop him on this righteous quest. Pallius continued to make his way to the medbay doors, and reached about three-quarters of the way there from the bed he’d woken up in, when an amused voice drawled out from behind him.

“Just where do you think you’re going, Scout?” One of the Ultramarines called out, an amused expression on his face and mirth shining in his blue-black eyes. 

“I need to find the mortal who first helped me. She was so nice and worried and I… I need to reassure her that I have survived. Do you know where she is?” Pallius asked, having partially turned to explain himself to the Apothecary before returning to his task of Leaving The Medbay.

“... And you want to find the mortal who helped you dressed like this, do you?” The Ultramarine asked, sounding very judgmental and amused.

Rude bastard. “Do you have any better ideas?” Pallius huffed, scowling (not pouting! He was a space marine, damn it) down at the older but shorter Astartes. “Or know where I may borrow some better clothes?”

“The answer to both of those questions is yes.” The Ultramarine Apothecary answered, still clearly laughing at him silently. “But first, please sit down. There is much to explain to you, and I daresay the explanation will help.”

Pallius blinked, obeying the tone of command without thought. A sigh of relief left him and the gray that had been eating at the edges of his vision faded. The pain ebbed and hey, he could breathe better again. “Will the explanation include how I arrived on a world of Ultramar?”

“Considering who you see in the medbay, I understand why you’ve guessed that. But no, we are not within the Realm of Ultramar. We are on Terra.” The Ultramarine revealed.

The Primaris Marine physically recoiled a little in shock and surprise, a silent gasp leaving him, his eyes widening as he tried to process this information. “H… Holy Terra? But… But I was many years from the Sol system, even by Warp Travel… And I thought that Terra’s atmosphere had long since become thin and heavily polluted. That is what we were told, sir.”

“In M42, this is true. However -” The Ultramarine - who introduced himself as Apothecary Zariel - explained the utterly wild and nonsensical tale of time travel that apparently every Marine currently on M3 Holy Terra had somehow undergone. Allegedly Zariel was from M36. He talked of the alliance, of bonds, of many fantastical and heretical things, ending with “And, as I can tell you don’t believe most of what I say -not that I blame you for that young one, this is a tale I would scarcely believe myself if I did not have proof of it, there are a few other Primaris Marines from M42 on base. I have asked two of them to join us. Cedric - who is an apothecary, and Ramiel, who is a Chaplain-in-training. Both of them are also Primaris Black Templars.”

“... Could you go over what these bonds are? How do you know if you have a bond? They… They aren’t heretical, are they?” Pallius asked, light blue eyes widening in surprise and recognition of the names of two of his Brothers.

Zariel smiled and gently patted one of his shoulders, having sat down partway through the long-winded lecture of absolute nonsense that he’d been trying to feed him. Why the other was trying to lie to Pallius so much, the young marine couldn’t begin to guess. All the other had to say was that it was classified for him to know where he was, and Pallius would have accepted that from the other. “Most commonly, a marine bonded to a baseline human feels the need to protect and care for that human. To ensure that they are happy and loved and that they know this. It is also common to want to spend as much time as possible around the human one is bonded to, and to feel a sense of anxiety or concern when away from one’s human for one reason or another.”

Pallius’ eyes widened and he fidgeted with his hands a little, looking away from the older Marine “And… And these bonds, they are… They are good things?”

“Yes, lad, They are wonderful gifts. Is there a particular reason why you ask?” Zariel asked, and he could hear a smile in the other’s voice.

“I think. I think I have a bonded human. The blue haired human who helped me until medicae got on the scene. I feel… I need. I need to find her. I need to make sure that she’s okay. I want to see her smile and laugh and be happy. I-I need to let her know that her care and concern weren’t wasted on someone who died, or does not think of her concern as the precious gift it is.” Pallius explained, a desperate desire to explain himself rising up within the young marine. “Please… I… I need to find her. To see her again.”

“Easy… Easy… Deep breaths. Follow my lead, lad.” Zariel instructed him, breathing in the manner that he wanted Pallius to copy. “Once you’re in a bit better shape -”

Pallius shook his head, his eyes wide and pleading “No! No, I need to see her now! I can’t… It can’t wait! I… I need to see her again. I will leave this medbay and find her on my own, the moment you leave me alone. Please! Her presence was a soothing balm. I know that I would do much better, heal faster, were she around.”

“Do you want your bonded human to see you half-dead from your wounds and half-delirious from both the morpha and blood loss?” Zariel asked, a sharpness in his voice, but a gentle understanding on his face. 

A chill ran through him. Would she see him as an ill-fitting protector, if she were to be brought to him while he was so injured, so frantic? The urge to find her was nearly all-consuming… But the idea of her rejecting him because he was a weak mess of emotions and injuries was enough to get him to stop dead in his tracks, both literally and metaphorically. “I… No…” He answered, his voice small and meek. “I don’t.”

“That’s what I thought. Now, I’m going to help you back to your bed. There are some gentle exercises that I will be happy to teach you that will help you heal better, but you must listen to me. You also must not push yourself, or you will strain your injuries and cause them to take longer to heal.” Zariel rumbled, a stern expression on his face.

Pallius ducked his head, shame burning in his hearts “Yes sir… Sorry sir…”

The stern expression on Zariel’s face softened somewhat. “I understand your eagerness to meet your bonded again. I, too have a bonded human. They are a wonderful companion, however the baseline you are bonded to would be distraught to see you in such a weakened state. Not because she’d judge you for being so badly hurt, but because she’d worry as to how you got into such a state. M3 is much more peaceful, and isolated from the horrors of the Galaxy. You want to be at your best when you meet her properly, yes?”

“Yes sir!” Pallius answered, nodding. He still felt the desire to go find the human he was Bonded to, but was able to temper that desire with the knowledge that he did not want to find them, only to collapse into a puddle of pain and bloodied meat before her feet. He obediently followed Zariel back to his bed and laid down, a sigh of relief leaving him, his eyes closing as he was stunned by how exhausted the short distance he had moved had made him.

Zariel untied the blanket he’d been wearing and tucked him into bed, running a gentle hand through his hair. “Sleep well, young one. Try not to sprint for the medbay doors when you wake up again, mm?”

“Yes sir…” Pallius yawned, letting himself settle into the comfortable embrace of sleep.

[kit-williams]

Chaos Tulio: Superbeast

This is a Loyalty swap for Tulio. Not based off of any fan heresies a lot more work goes into those and I'm not willing to build from the ground up an alternate Horus Heresy. However all of the boys (Except Tyberos and other actual 40k characters) will be getting a Loyalty swap. There will also be a "Falling to Chaos" version for the Loyalists and (tentatively) a "Rising to Redemption" for the Traitors.

Also Psychi in this story has descriptions due to the more... graphic nature of this one to lessen any ick someone might feel about a reader insert

Word count: 3542

Tag List @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts

@liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon @sculptorofcrimson

Thank you to @squishyowl for the dividers

tw: sex ahoy, dubious consent, will also tag as noncon as well, yandere, Tulio is his own warning

Readers Discretion is Advised

The traitor realm of Ultramar was the largest holding of traitors outside of the eye of terror. Controlled by the fallen Primarch Robute Guilliman; it fell overnight following the charismatic leader that was the primarch of the 13th legion. The realm was a beautiful hell... a hell where they knew exactly how much worth you had in you the moment you were brought into their clutches. For a thing of Chaos... even the Chaos was calculated and planned for... for the Primarch hated surprises.

Tyranids were a surprise that the Lord of Ultramar despised and thus he dedicated several thousand of his sons to dealing with it and the profane rituals to insure that they could protect the realm of Ultramar. Profane rituals blessed these sons of Ultramar as to defeat their seemingly endless xenos foe... they chose to become like their foes. To become the beasts.

Lieutenant Tulio Sydo had secured a large victory for his Primarch, at the cost of thousands of his men, a few warp drives, and his fellow Lieutenant... the Hive Fleet barreling towards Macragge was no more... the splinters of the hive fleet would be hunted down but for now he was told to recuperate... to relax... to partake in revelry... as his worship of the four was far too lopsided according to the chaplain... the youngest deserved his worship.

The room smelt of sweat and sex as concubines bodies moved against mutated flesh. The four armed and eight eyed Lieutenant was watching the depravity... they couldn't be too rough given theses were the modified concubines... surely someone's seed would take. His lounged as his digigrade legs were spread open, his cheek rested on one of his hands, another held a goblet of wine, a third resting near a weapon, and his fourth hand laced through the blonde hair of his once favorite concubine as she took his cock in her mouth. He was fused to his armor in certain locations... his thighs, the tops of his hands and arms, and from the nose up was now twisted with a large singular horn coming from his forehead.

He could smell her... his black tongue lazily swiped over his needle like teeth. His eyes closer to the back of his head could watch her... his Psychoula. Comparing her to the concubines they looked far prettier... healthier... with a glow to their skin. His eyes darted to the symbol of the Prince on his former favorite's tongue just working her best to please him. Psychi feared him... he could see it in the way tears gathered in the corners of her eyes... those plain brown things. How thin her dirty brown hair was but oh what a rich chocolate brown it could be when cleaned. He had the pleasure of seeing her look good once... once again when his favorite was failing to make him feel alive.

Slaanesh wasn't his favorite of the four... Khorne was his main patron and it was hard to drag him back to the center of worship that being so high up in his father's good graces required. So Tulio had to... excessively indulge in Slaanesh to balance out his souls humors. Yet this... neglected looking thing drove him to feel such licentiousness desires. His eyes, the ones that could see her, focused on her as he churned his hips. Hand gripping the hair tighter as he closed those still green eyes of his just picturing those sad looking brown ones looking up at him.

He grew to dislike his erstwhile concubine when she had caught sight of her, of course ignorant of his interest in the feeble little thing, and simply upturned her nose to the poor little thing. But, her mouth was a good replacement until he could get those pale lips to wrap around his own cock one day soon. Oh yes orgy first then rewards for his men as they had all chosen their desired pitiful creature to have as theirs and theirs alone and he could tell they all were watching, or trying to not watch, nervously. He sees her tense as he catches her eyes dart over and notice how he looks at her and what is going on between his legs. Tulio can't help but grin as he lets out a groan letting the whore between his legs drink it up.

"Brother Cyrus." Tulio started as he was being cleaned off. His second also appeared to be boredly watching the festivities but really Tulio knew his eyes were focused on some one armed black haired waif. Such a tiny looking frail thing... Tulio might have been tempted to lust over such a cute looking thing but his Psychi caught his eyes first.

"Yes Lieutenant?" He replied with a bored sigh.

"You want a go at this?" He gestures to the concubine in his lap who looks at him confused. Cyrus looked over clearly uninterested before Tulio purred out, "Might make sure you don't... break your little waif... if you get some of that eager passion out. Whole point of this orgy really... don't need any of my closest men sobbing about breaking their new toy."

They ignored the concubine trying to get an answer to beg for her master's affection and Tulio could have ignored her but he looked down at her boredly, "You were always on loan to me my dear. I just tend to get possessive of my things." He says grabbing her chin and pushing her lips together, "However, I'm about to get a tight new toy..." He says before brother Cyrus grabs her and drags her into a side room.

The wine ran down his throat so smoothly cleaning away the acidic feeling from gorging himself earlier. He looked at the empty goblet holding it to the side and just gently rolling his hand as he watched his timid little Psychoula come over to fill the glass. Her cheeks flushed from the debased acts and the pleasured moans... perhaps glances from the women to entice them to join in and enjoy.

"What do think about this my dear?" He trilled to her watching confusion crawl across her pretty face slowly like a body divided below the waist... refusing to die and dragging it out like intestines across the ground.

He watched her mouth open slightly a few time as her eyes darted around trying hard to look away but knowing that she had to maintain eye contact with him. "I... I... its... it's not exactly... my first choice?" She tried her best not to stutter and if it was anyone else he would be offended at the lack of respect given to him. Tulio knows he'll teach her better manners she's just not use to his divinely gifted aura yet. Few mortals could manage to not be intimidated or struck with fear the first few times meeting him.

"Oh?" He cooed to her moving to him now lounging on his side giving her his attention. The saliva clinging to his cock has dried off and he was eager to replace it with something else. One of his hands began a languid stroke, "What brings you such hesitations Psychoula?" Tulio did his best not to have a predatory grin as he could see the other rewards looking at her with pity and fear as they tried to ignore the mewling and moaning throng in the center of the room.

His eyes dilated for a moment watching her pink little tongue wet her dried and chapped lips. His eyes wandered down to the front of her stolla where the fabric revealed the tattooed symbol of the Ultramarine's on her collarbone like all slaves. "It... it looks rather violent." She just says uncomfortably, he could tell she wanted to beg to be dismissed but she was trapped.

"Oh it is. But," He pauses taking a drink, "they are modified to handle such carnal appetites. Only the prettiest things can become like them..." Tulio leans in watching her start to shake but like a good girl she doesn't move, "I think you're pretty enough to become one." He whispers into her ear pulling back to watch her stiffen with fear. Those tears gathering in the corners of her eyes as she whimpers just biting on her bottom lip resisting the urge to beg for mercy.

Tulio stops playing with himself and sets his goblet down as his clawed hands grab her feeling the barest of resistance as he pulls her into his lap. This lower set of arms pulls on the low quality fabric apart causing her to start crying as everything below her waist was now revealed... he could feel how boney she was. One upper hand retrieved his gobelt... the other upper hand worked on throwing the last bits of her ruined stolla away... one lower arm was groping her ass, his cock twitching with excitement, as his other worked her breasts.

"You're so small zoi mou." He stated as her breasts were small from lack of food... lack of nutrition... oh they wouldn't do. Two of his hands rushed down and grabbed her ass with a smack causing her to yelp as he felt up the slightly boney thing, his cock leaking again with excitement at her being in his grasp and his hands felt up her body. "This won't do at all." He said tutting softly as he grabbed her chin. He loved to watch her cry... it stirred something noble feeling in his chest. She was a soft and frail thing that needed someone to protect her and he was going to be that one to do so.

"You'll fatten up soon enough and have breasts as enviable as any of the other concubines getting ravaged here." He made her look at one of the women face down on the floor with a pleasured look on her face as cum oozed down her thighs while one of the battle brothers was roughly rutting with her. She was too speechless only making whines of pleasure... he could smell the shameful arousal from Psychi... "Fat breasts for me to grope and hold," he whispers in her ear, "fattened hips for me to grab and feel my balls clap against." He turned to have her look at him, "You want to be in that position, dont you?"

He watched her shake her head and just chuckled, "I can smell you." He poked her nose like some amused child and not a being of twisted transhuman dread and the simple dread of the profane gifts he has gotten. He pushes her against his cock and she jerks in his grip.

"Please you're too big my lord please! Mercy!" She finally sobs and Tulio shivers, one of his hands gathering up his cum on some fingers.

"Hmm you're right... how about we change that." He leans her back slightly pouring the far too rich wine into her mouth. She lets out a sputtering noise as his cum covered finger pushed into her. She pushed the goblet away and coughed as the red wine stained her skin and wetting her hair as Tulio worked his finger in and out of her at a fast beat smearing just a light coating of his thick cum into her unprepared sex.

She felt her body relax and react to the way his finger moved in and out of her quickly and filled her with a thickness akin to a cock. Tulio's barbed tail twisted and coiled around itself in its own way to express its master's twisted glee. "Yes," he dulcetly crooned, "be a good girl and relax for me." A clawed hand moved over her stomach... claws gently tapping against those visible lower ribs of hers. Tulio loved the way she cried... the pitiful expression she wore just stroked something in him. Tulio felt that same sentimental twinge itch in the back of his mind... was this what loyalists felt over their charges?

He drags out a gasping moan as his index joins his middle finger. He pulls her dirty hair free of the frazzled braid and watches it spool out over the lounging chair. His eyes all focus on her... drinking in the full picture of her pleasure... his hands dance over her body. He held a memory covetously close to his wicked hearts... having seen her smile. Having seen her express a pure spark of joy even in hell. Her smile made such a frail looking creature like herself look radiant and glowing.

She whimpered under his ministrations as she writhed on the large lounging chair unable to stop squirming. Her eyes screwed shut as she was torturously close... Tulio leaned in as his long thin black tongue glided out of his mouth like some predatory beast and it moved into her... finding her clitoris... she squealed as she orgasamed and she tasted like he was expecting... unhealthily... but he wasn't a fully selfish lover... she'd taste like dark chocolate to him one day... that delightful bitter and salty combination mixed with an essence uniquely her's.

He knows she should have asked if there was anything else he needed... but his answer would have been a yes. His hooves touched the stone floor as he grabbed her by her upper arm and dragged her to another room, her legs seemingly failing her. She caught those pitying looks from the others but they would soon have to worry once the concubines were sent away with cum filled cunts. The sexual frenzy of his brothers would end soon... but he was going to indulge in his reward first.

Pressing her hands against the wall in the second room he rocks his cock against her back as he takes his time letting his eyes meander and wander over her body... again far too thin for his liking... he'd find out what fruits and sweets she'd like and help her indulge... oh he certainly was feeling the high that others got from the Prince of Pleasure. She was surly placed in his path by him to keep Tulio from giving it all to Khorne... just as the Weaver of Fate kept his mind sharp... and the loving Grandfather kept him hearty and hale... he would return to balance with his now continued indulgence of his dear Psychoula.

He tossed the empty metal goblet away as all of his hands moved over her body, two hands grabbing and squeezing her breasts on the edge of being too much for her body he could feel her try to flinch away but she was very much well trained... hardly flinching away at all. "I'll enjoy breaking you in... have you begging for my cock again."

She whimpered choosing to remain silent... Tulio clicked his tongue feeling a bit ignored. The way her eyes widened in horror as his palm talon shot out and punched a hole into the metal wall. How her body trembled against his as Tulio leaned in whispering, "I expect you to answer when I tell you something zoi mou. I'm being oh so very nice," He hissed into the shell of her ear, his hands on her breasts shifting to let his nails dig into her oh so frail flesh... "I could rip your flesh right off your body." That got a sob out of her, "Answer honestly my dear..."

He savored with sick delight as her mouth opened and closed as tears were flowing down her cheeks like rain. "Please just don't make it painful." She managed to squeak out of her without sobbing.

"Awww, zoi mou, is that what you're worried about?" He said grabbing her chin and having her look up at him. Of course, she'd be pain adverse for their first time together... perhaps they would work up to that... or not... Tulio just wanted her to be begging for his cock. To see her smile at him with a coy lustful grin in his bed as she wiggled her ass and bare sex to him just wanting to fill her. "I will do my best to make this a moment you want again." He kissed her temple.

She could feel the pointed head of his cock force its way between her prepared folds... it started out thin but got thicker towards the base. She pressed her forehead against the wall, forced to the tips of her toes as Tulio sunk inch after inch into her. Tulio on the other was clenching his jaw trying his best to not just break her and rip her apart for his first time with her. He had to be gentle...

His eyes snapped open, he didn't realize he closed them all, he licked the inside of his mouth as he adjusted his hips and began the slow thrust in and out of her divine sex. It's how he didn't burn himself out... he savored each time he had sex keeping them far enough apart that it made it feel so wonderful and new... he probably would be indulging so much more often if this is what was waiting for him.

Psychi whimpered as he picked her up, hands still on her breasts on the edge of being so painful. The way he wrapped his arms around her... she could feel him starting to squeeze... more and more. Her moans became less and less sure as the distraction of the sex was waning and the impending dread returned.

Tulio tilted her back and started to squeeze causing her to thrash around him, her walls fluttering around his cock causing him to groan as those tears rolled down her cheeks, "Lord Sydo! Lord Sydo please!" She screamed fearfully as she has seen what an Astartes can do to normal human flesh...

"Tulio." He hissed, "Call me Tulio... moan that out for me!"

"Tulio! Tulio!" She screams trying to moan but she just sobs as she can feel the pressure against her body... she was going to die.

"You say my name so sonorously how I am compelled to listen." He trills to her before tossing her naked body onto the bed in the room . He watches her try to recover but he is upon her swiftly and he plunged his cock back deep into her as once again she feels it dance on the edge of painful but Psychi can't help but moan slightly.

Tulio has been a kind lover... as he is certain she has orgasmed at least 4 times since he started giving her attention. The soft whimpers as his cock gently grinds against her cervix... perhaps he lied a little promising that this time wouldn't hurt... it would hurt a bit... one of his upper arms traps her in a headlock, he watches those eyes look at him with fear.

He promises zoi mou! Just let him breed you right now! You will come to love this! He thinks deliriously as his body suddenly floods with the right cocktail of chemicals and neurons firing. The tip of his cock pushes against the very back of her being... Psychi feels something move inside of her before she feel the pressure and she starts to just scream as it hurts. She claws at those ceremite ridges on his arm holding her, she's thrashing as she feels something move inside of her as Tulio's profane biology goes to work flooding his system with hormones as he lets out a soft groan as he finally releases inside of her.

I can't breathe! Is Psychi's last thought as it's too much for her... the racing of her heart... the painful pressure... his arm around her. She cannot hear the bellowed order from Tulio then the screaming from the "gift" mortals. No she gets no closure... as it all... fade... to ... black.

For the first time in her miserable short life... everything feels quiet... everything feels safe. She can feel sleep languidly pulling away from her but whatever she is on is soft. A gentle clean breeze kisses her cheeks and she can feel a gentle warmth on her skin that feels so comforting like a babe's blanket. She does her best to ignore the gentle light that dances across her eyelids occasionally.

She lets out a contented sigh and feels like all of that hardship... it was all a dream and she was finally dead. Something rustles behind her and a warm voice... strong... assured of itself... but it whispers to her, "Welcome Home." The voice says before gentle kisses are pressed against the back of her neck coaxing her back into the deep slumber. Home... what a funny word to here but if this was home... then she never wanted to leave.

Tulio Sydo Lieutenant of the Tyrannic division of the Traitor Primarch Robute Guilliman's Ultramarine legion... sighed contently watching his new wife, consort, concubine, possession. Return to her sleep as they were back in the Ultramar system and he was back home. He once more pressed kisses to the back of her neck as he thought how she would be modified soon... for now he would just enjoy finally having his zoi mou all to himself. His tail lazily swayed behind him as he closed those grass green eyes of his and trilled contently.

[ladymirdan]

I am having a brain rot that Guilliman is just Eldrad Ulthwe’s rebound after Fulgrim.

*Eldrad gets visions from the Aeldari gods*

Gods: “You must go and warn the humans, they are about to do the same mistakes as we did. They are falling for the allure of chaos. This cannot happen.”

Eldrad: “who do I warn?”

Gods:” I dont fucking know, the blonde one with the roman inspired legion.”

Eldrad: “Check. Also, isnt it kind of funny how every civilisation have their Roman period?”

Gods: “I know right, I think there was a Star Trek episode about it.”

Eldrad: “yeah I saw that one. Also, the orks got so weird with their second one.”

Gods: “shit, dont remind us about that.”

Eldrad: “well, off I go.”

*a few moments later*

Eldrad, screaming: “that did not go according to plan!”

Gods: “what do you mean? You haven't even talked to him.”

Eldrad: “oh I did, it did not go well. He got a Slaaneshi sword and everything.”

Gods: “what? No he doesnt, he is literally over here doing nothing” *points to the Ultramar system*

Eldrad: “shit. I got the wrong brother. I didnt know there were two blonde romans... I’ll guess I’ll go again.... And also, can I borrow another Avatar of Khaine?”

Gods: “WHAT DID YOU DO?!?”

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Rising

Previous =-= Next

Author's note: Ramiel in Husbandry. Thanks to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Ash'val and Cedric.

Warnings: None that I can think of ? Let me know if I need to add any warnings....

Summary: Ramiel is Hunting Traitor bastards down- and gets stopped by a Salamander Captain. He is. Confused.

Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,

Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k

Ramiel had been chasing after the cowardly Chaos Traitor bastards, out of the forest, and into a suburban area, they were swearing at him and while he suspects they may be leading him to a trap or where more of their ilk may be lying in wait to harm him.

He will do his duty and kill as many of this bastards as he can before falling. For it is his duty to die for the glory of the God Emperor and to protect humanity until his death. He hears a voice call out to him and he slows down and tilts his helmet to the side and spots a Salamander Captain calling out to him and he slows down to a halt, snapping to attention.

Even as he feels the adrenaline flowing through his body as he almost vibrates with the need to continue moving- to hunt after the traitors.

"Steady there, little cousin," Captain Ash'val says half ordering, half calming the Large- hm… In armor he's larger than Cedric, likely out of it he's the same size.

Ah- another Primaris Black Templar. This one with full kit. Oh dear. At least there aren't any Black Templars nearby with vox for him to call and bring the wrath of that overzealous and rigid Chapter down on the heads of Chaos and Loyalists alike. Ash'val explains where and when he is.

As well as how he's not supposed to slay, or harass Renegade and Chaos Astartes, to which he rears back a little in alarm, due to the treaty that they have in place between the larger war bands and chapters that have come together upon this most Holy places, Ancient Terra, long before humanity has reached for the stars and settled upon other planets.

"But… heretics?" Ramiel says tilting his head to the side, unintentionally looking like a confused pup.

"Yes, but there are so few of us that fighting amongst ourselves isn't feasible," Ash'val says as he slowly guides the other to Imperial Fist and Salamander base. "You will need to be checked out by an Apothecary to see how well you are doing and what you might need for healing. I see that a sword had gone through your armor and body."

Ramiel can't stop the way he flinches and curls in on himself as he remembers the wound that he had thought would kill him. One of his hands going up to his chest where the dried blood was. He follows after Captain Ash'val he hears what the other is saying, but the words flow through one ear and out the other without making much of an impact.

he makes the appropriate noises as prompted, and he'll be able to recall the words the other has spoken and be able to comprehend them better later. He also started recording Ash'val as he realized he'd started going into that numb state where all he could do was move in the direction that he was ordered to go to silently. For if he made a noise he'd not be able to stop screaming. Or Crying. And neither option was good, First Born Brothers did not like such ridiculous antics.

His mentor the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras was quite firm on what was Appropriate and Inappropriate behavior, even for such creatures as he was. He sits in the waiting area of the medbay quietly waiting to be tended to. The Apothecary on Triage heads over to him and almost seems to do a double take when they realize which Chapter he's of and he answers the questions they ask him through numb, hazy lips, hoping that he neither stutters nor speaks to fast or slow.

Or too loud or too quietly. He's not actively dying and he's not in much pain, Captain Ash'val says that he's to be processed as new arrivals are to be, so he's not an acute case. He can wait. The Ultramarine First Born peers down at him for a moment or two before heading off. A

nd he … drifts even as he remains in his body, carefully, slowly breathing in and out. He hears a familiar voice call out and he gets up. Ramiel blinks and suddenly he's clinging to Cedric and his helmet's off... How? When did that happen. They are in an exam room and he feels something drip down his cheeks and he doesn't point out to Cedric that his Apothecary Brother is silently crying.

Cedric's got a soft heart, besides Cedric is doing his duties as an Apothecary and it's just the two of them, so Ramiel doesn't have to say anything, so he won't. He never wanted to be one of the hands that punished his brothers, but by the commands of his mentor the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras, he had to, or worse things would happen and make him wish he'd obeyed promptly.

"Are we both dead, then?" Ramiel says to Cedric, after the check up is over tilting his head inquisitively to Cedric. "after all, I thought the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras would be… wise enough not to piss off your mentor. Not after what your mentor said he'd do to others if they tried to harm you."

Cedric reiterates what Captain Ash'val said about them being on Ancient Terra… and how as far as anyone can tell they are all still alive. Just here and not where they were before. Cedric's eyes flicker and he hesitates before telling Ramiel that his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras had been punished.

As had those who'd sided with him when their Chapter Master put his foot down and declared that the Primaris Marines aren't Heretical and/or Abominations to be purged. And who had decided to challenge, and fail and suffer the consequences (death) for doing so. He's quite surprised that his mentor, the Honorable Veteran Chaplain Captain Mephisteil Petras had been one of the ones to challenge, and fail to win.

[b00mrang]

I've been a 40k fan since I was like 8.

I'm honestly so glad that so many people are finding the hobby and the universe for the first time. I hope people fall in love with the franchise like I have.

....Unless you're a heretic.

....or Xenos.

Show no quarter,

Glory for Ultramar.

[the-wayward-arc]

Arael remembered when the halls were beautiful and full of life. Seeing servants, aspirants, Remnant Guard and his brothers walk these halls, conversing and going about their day.

He longed for those days, but they were gone. Now The hallway leading to his Primarch's sanctum were decrepit, falling apart and covered in ancient dried up blood. What made it more disturbing as he walked was the fact that the hall way was still active; specters of the former inhabitants linger. Some crying in the corner eternally, soldiers running by only to disappear in an Unseen explosion, specters of crying children huddled in a corner crying out for their parents that will never come. Down other hallways, he could hear screaming and yelling. They all screamed and pleaded for one thing; the return of the legion to save them from this Fate.

He did his best to ignore all the specters as he neared his Primarch's sanctum. The doors guarded by the corrupted Paladins as their power lances crackled to life.

"I need to speak to our father, another Bastard of Horus is waiting to speak to him." He explained, both Paladins looked at the other, before letting him pass. The doors opened, revealing only darkness within the room with a small light in the distance, walking in, Arael stood as the doors closed behind him. Leaving him darkness save for the far away light.

"What do you wish to speak of my son?" Came a voice that seemed to come from everywhere. The far away light flickered with each word.

"My lord, we have confirmed the Lion has returned and that the bastards of Horus again demand to speak to you."

The Light flickered a bit.

"Hmm, so another of my brothers return. Heh, seems like a family reunion will happen soon."

"Lord Magnus wishes to know if you will join him however, he intends to assault the Fenris system once more."

"No, we have our plans that need to be acted upon. I can feel my legion growing restless, the souls are growing more louder with each passing day. I believe it is time we begin."

Arael was surprised by this proclamation.

"My lord?"

"Ready the legion, we leave our world soon."

"What of the Black Legion?"

There was silence as the light flickered again before disappearing.

"Bring him in."

Within Minutes, a Sorcerer walked in, looking at Arael as the the doors closed behind him.

"Where is he?" He asked, Arael simply looked towards the darkness.

"WHERE IS H-" light flooded the room, the darkness receding away, screaming as it did. The sorcerer tried shielding his eye, as the light was blinding it bypassed the mechanisms in his helmet that blocked such things. Arael simply watched as the light began to form into a being, an armored being that took step towards the blinded Sorcerer.

Thousands of years in the warp have changed Jaune, long did his mortal form break away to reveal his true warp form; A light that burned away the darkness. The Sorcercer screamed in pain as not his flesh and armor were being burned away but whatever was left his soul as well with each step Jaune took towards him until he finally stood in front of him. Jaune was light, light that burned away the Sorcerer.

"We go to the Ultramar realm."

[shiyorin]

Hi. How are you? I hope you are doing well, I wish you a good and easy summer🏵️🌺 Can I have something with Roboute Guilliman? Before Heresy. Let's imagine that Roboute married (for love, they love each other very much) the reader even before the Emperor found him. She is his adopted cousin (niece of Conor's adoptive father). And here is Roboute's surprised and uncomprehending reaction to the fact that he is the only one of the brothers who is married. Well, the shock of the rest of the primarchs that the reader really accepts Guilliman with all the features of his life as a primarch. Something like this😅 but as always, you can change everything so that it is convenient for you) The request is public, there is too little content on the primarchs in the world. I hope this brings someone some pleasure.

Here you are.

In the far future, everyone still loves romcom

0.

The banquet hall echoed with laughter as the Primarchs partook of the party. Guilliman conversed politely but wished to return to his work. As he made to depart, Russ clapped him on the shoulder.

"In a hurry to get home, brother?" Russ teased. "Wife waiting for you in bed?"

Guilliman smiled "Yes, she will be wondering where I am."

Russ laughed heartily, thinking it a jest. But Guilliman simply smiled and took his leave. The other Primarchs continued their celebrations, taking no note.

Minutes later, realization dawned. "Wait... Roboute has a wife???" Russ exclaimed in shock.

After a few moments, realization dawned on the Primarchs. Exclamations of surprise and wonder echoed through the hall.

"Roboute? Married?"

"Who is the woman insane enough to tie herself to him?"

"I didn't even know he had an interest in such things!"

1.

Guilliman was confused. "Have I not told you all about my wife?" he said.

The Primarchs exchanged glances, admitting they had thought Guilliman's remarks the previous were in joke. Many had assumed he was "married" only to his duties, with the Ultramar itself as his bride.

Guilliman was astonished. "My wife has been by my side for centuries." he said. "How could you not know of her?"

His brothers exchanged looks of surprise. "We thought you were joking the whole time." Horus said. "A primarch, married? It seems so..."

"Strange." said Dorn.

Guilliman's brows furrowed. "Is it so strange that I would want a life beyond duty?" he asked.

His brothers shook their heads. "It is not strange." said Sanguinius. "Only unexpected. We had not realized you look like someone will get married."

Guilliman softened. "My duties consume much of me." he said. "But when I am with her. She gives me more than this. I feel like I'm.. just alive.... You know."

His brothers listened in silence, pondering the power of this woman can soften even the hardest heart of their brother.

Horus' curiosity got the better of him. "Tell us of this wife of yours, Brother." he said. The other Primarchs gathered round, keen to hear this tale.

Guilliman sighed. "Must you all behave like children wanting to hear 'how I met your mother'?"

Russ laughed. "You cannot leave us in suspense now! Out with it man, tell of this woman who has tamed one of us all."

Guilliman shook his head in amusement. "Right." he said. "If you must know."

Horus leaned forward. "Tell us how you met this woman who stole your heart!" he said. The others made noises of assent.

Guilliman remembered the day he had first seen her, this woman who had brought so much light into his life. But where to begin that tale? There were so many things he loved about her, her keen wit, her fierce loyalty, her calm counsel,... so many things.

He leaned back in his chair, surveying his brothers' expectant faces. "Very well." he said. "How I met your mother..."

2.

Guilliman stood stoically overseeing the teeming masses of Macragge. His gaze swept the scene as it had hundreds of times before, hardly registering anything new.

Then he saw her. A slight figure hunched over scrolls and parchment at waist. Her quill moved nimbly, hair falling around her face as she worked. Guilliman found himself staring, transfixed.

Their gazes met and for an instant, the world stilled.

He felt an unfamiliar warmth bloom within his chest, a pull that defied reason or logic. In that one glance, something irreversible had been set in motion.

There was something in her stirred his soul, maybe the graceful ease of her movements, maybe the sharp focus of her mind at work, he doesn't know. He watched her for what seemed like hours, drinking in even the smallest details, the tilt of her head, the arch of her back, the dart of her eyes as she scanned the parchment.

And yet he knew nothing of this woman who had so suddenly ensnared his attention. Who was she? What work demanded such concentration? He longed to know, however hesitated to disturb her peace.

The woman finished her tasks and left, unaware of the Primarch's regard. Guilliman silently chided himself for this strange captivation over a stranger. Yet as he turned back to his duties, the memory of her sure hands and thoughtful gaze lingered in his mind.

3.

Russ laughed heartily. "Roboute had estrus for his wife at first sight!"

Sanguinius gently corrected. "You mean love at first sight, brother."

Fulgrim eyed Guilliman curiously. "And what happened next? Did you speak to her?"

Guilliman sighed. "She is the niece of my father. I think he sensed my feelings and arranged for us to meet."

The primarchs listened intently now. Lion asked dryly, "And the date? I assume it went well."

Guilliman's face reddened. "Well...not exactly. I planned everything perfectly. Dinner at the finest restaurant, a walk in the gardens..."

Russ roared with laughter. "Did you recite poetry? Wear a new cloak?"

Guilliman glared at him. "Everything seemed perfect! But then..." He trailed off, embarrassed.

Fulgrim leaned forward. "But then what?"

4.

Guilliman had planned every detail of this evening, the restaurant, the conversation topics, even the words he would use to impress you. But none of his plans accounted for how truly stunning you appeared when you arrived.

Your beauty overwhelmed him, leaving him momentarily speechless. He struggled to find the right words. "You look beautiful tonight," he finally managed.

"Thank you." You replied with a smile.

An awkward silence fell as Guilliman's mind went blank. Then suddenly he doesn't remember his plan. "Have you heard about the new tax reforms?" he asked eagerly.

"I heard a little bit." You are curious to see what he has to say.

Guilliman talked animatedly about his tax reforms, gesturing with his hands as he outlined the various proposals before the Senate. And yet his mind barely registered the words coming from his own mouth. He spoke at length about the new tax reforms.

"The changes seek to simplify the existing tax code and broaden the tax base."

You nodded politely. "That does sound sensible."

All he saw was your face, lit by the soft glow of the restaurant candles. The curve of your lips as you politely smiled at his explanation. The way a loose lock of hair fell across your cheek, begging to be tucked gently behind your ear.

He launched into more details about bracket adjustments and closing loopholes.

"We estimate this will generate an additional 10% in annual revenue."

You replied "That could fund many important programs."

Guilliman droned on about commercial import tariffs and industry subsidies, even as his thoughts wandered to what it would feel like to hold your hand in his own. To softly brush that stray lock of hair from your face and gaze into your eyes.

"This will incentivize investment and innovation."

You responded "A balanced approach."

His voice maintained the confident, professorial tone he used addressing the Senate, reciting statistics and projections about GDP growth and revenue collection. And yet underneath it all, a much simpler truth shone through: your beauty had enraptured him, leaving him longing for little more than to spend the evening quietly basking in your presence.

You said "You've certainly given this a great deal of thought."

Guilliman glanced at you, your eyes meeting briefly before he continued talking.

"With the Senate's approval we could implement most of these changes within the year."

You smiled gently. "What an ambitious goal."

Guilliman returned your smile, your attentive responses brought him back to the present just enough to continue the conversation. His heart remained lost in the simple joy of looking upon one so fair, and wishing for nothing more than to remain lost in your gaze.

5.

The primarchs burst out laughing as Guilliman finished his tale. Even Dorn and Lion chuckled and shook their heads.

"The next day, my father looked at me with a disappointed expression." Guilliman said ruefully. "As if to say 'Really Roboute? Really?'"

Fulgrim smiled. "But still, she agreed to a second date. How did you win her heart?"

Guilliman sighed. "It was a very, very long process."

"Skip that boring part!" Russ said. "Tell us how you finally confessed your feelings!"

The others nodded in agreement. Guilliman smiled, remembering.

6.

When Guilliman finally confessed, he brought out a long, neatly written scroll and began reading everything he had carefully drafted to say to you.

You raised an eyebrow and remained silent when he finished. Guilliman noticed your expression and sighed. "I'm sorry, I'm wasting your time. I'm so boring and obnoxious, you must have endured me a lot lately."

But you just simply said "No, I'm just surprised. How could I hate a man who does what he loves with such passion? A reformer who helps so many. You are not boring or obnoxious."

You took the scroll from his hands. "Keep it short."

Guilliman took a breath. "Will you marry me?"

You confused but smiled "No, but we can go slow."

Guilliman breathed deep, the fragrance of hope blossoming within him.

You saw the change come over him, a light dawning in his eyes. The rigid lines of duty softened into curves of grace.

Guilliman smiled. "Then let us walk this path together, one step at a time."

You took his hand. "Slowly." you agreed.

You and him had found each other, though the road ahead wound long and slow. But patience now walked hand in hand with possibility. And where love lights its gentle flame, all things become possible in time.

7.

Sanguinius sighed romantically. "True love blossoms in the most unexpected ways."

Several others nodded in agreement.

Fulgrim asked excitedly. "But what of the wedding? I'm sure it was a beautiful ceremony!"

Then Magnus interjected awkwardly. "I have a question." He leaned in and whispered. "How do you, um, deal with the size difference?"

The room fell silent. Magnus hastily added. "Asking for a friend, of course!"

Guilliman's faced flushed. "Such matters are private."

Russ laughed. "Magnus doesn't need to know. No woman wants a nerd!"

Magnus flushed angrily. "I know more than you! I've read about it."

Russ scoffed. "Books? I know from experience. Just push hard!"

Magnus frowned. "Push what hard?"

Russ stared, then turned red. "Uh... Nevermind."

Mortarion sighed through his mask. "Admit it. Except for Roboute, we're all virgins."

The room fell silent. Mortarion spoke the truth they'd all avoided.

8.

Ferrus coughed, looking awkwardly "I wish to know as well, brother."

Even Dorn spoke up, hiding his shame behind stoic face."Tell us."

Corax shyly raised his hand.

Guilliman sighed in embarrassment. "Really brothers? Must I?"

They nodded eagerly.

Guilliman reluctantly. "Human's body is...extremely flexible. I do not know why, it just is."

The others absorbed this bizarre knowledge, eyes alight.

One thanked Guilliman profusely and rushed from the room, the others following hastily. Soon Guilliman was alone. He sighed, not wanting to know what his brothers intended.

9.

Guilliman looked up as you entered, stacks of reports in your arms. He and you smiled at each other wearily.

"My dear," he said warmly, rising to greet you.

You returned his smile. "I bring you news from Macragge." You laid the reports on his desk.

"More work?" he asked. You nodded.

Guilliman sighed. "It never ends."

Your smile turned wry. "No, it does not."

He looked at you, beneath the weight of duty and responsibility. Then took your hand and kissed it gently. "Stay awhile. Your presence is enough for now."

You smiled softly. "I will gladly remain."

Weariness clung to both their bones, duty's demands unrelenting. But in each other's arms, he found ease. In each other's eyes, hope rekindled.

For though the path ahead stretched long, you and him walked it side by side. And sometimes, that was enough.

10.

In the far future, romcom still exists.

[captainblacklobster2]

For Ultramar and for duty,

For past and for future, For Terra and the Emperor, No brother falls forgotten.

[quietbluejay]

Unremembered Empire 1

Ghost time

timeline datum: nearly 2 years since Calth

hey I'm proud that's an actual rational thing to do here

rational character actually acting in a rational manner when encountering the supernatural

lol he's repealed the edict of nikaia

heh

that's a take on Hamlet, I guess

okay WHAT i thought the Emperor explicitly told them nothing about the mere existence of Chaos

there is a LOT to unpack about Rob here

where do i even start

guilliman is extremely stabbable. Probably why people keep stabbing him!

with the implication that, he thinks his brothers have been found wanting

also i know everyone talks about this guy as best marriage material out of the primarchs but this man should NOT become a father without some serious character development

okay you know what i am going to seriously evaluate every primarch and see who has the least/most red flags

[the list has been redacted on account of me already getting clowned on on discord but maybe I will post it at some point. I stand by 40K Lion being the best option and Perturabo being the worst of the guys with all their brains]

moving along!

yeah this is really Guilliman's way of coping, huh

THE EMPEROR DIDNT HAVE A FALL BACK PLAN idk can we call guilliman's relationship with the emperor "guilliman gaslights himself into thinking the emperor is much better than he actually is"

AND YOU ALSO DID NOT FUTURE PROOF ANYTHING EITHERRRRRRRRR note from future bluejay: and that really is one of his biggest problems isn't it

this is kind of cute though he calls her "mam"

no one expects the Iron Warrior Inquisition!

oh it's a specific dude I've heard of this guy also warhammer chronic illness character strikes again!

so he's calling them from another planet

that's a very exact number

and more than 2 years

a traitor named Barabas huh also, Iron Warrior with a spine

I do feel as if Dantioch is looking forwards to it, despite nominally being on the same side as the Fists

OwO

squints nine months and now it's born maybe i've just spent too much time in transformers this better not become a Thing Abnett I really do not want to have two nickels here for mpreg I swear if Guilliman knocks up a planet I'm going to throw hands (okay I'll be honest I am joking around here, of all the things I didn't like about MTMTE the pregnancy stuff did not bother me nearly as much as most of the other things it's just kind of a funny background detail. Except the Overlord birth scene that was absolutely cursed)

so his adoptive dad wanted to Make Ultramar Great Again

and guilliman did lol so it's just a cycle of reconquering the five hundred worlds lmao (looks at dark imperium)

so the Pharos is a weird thing built by aliens and they couldn't figure out what it did

technobabble time

oh huh over to some Space Wolves

fun

so like what happened to their gellar fields

you know if i had a nickel for every time i read a wh40k book where an iron hand was besties with someone from another legion i'd now have two nickels

interesting

Abnett's writing has definitely become less clunky

ngl this guy (Kleve) seems like one of the most well-adjusted Iron Hands I've run across

me reading Ahriman novels

:) :) :)

Image limit hit once again! TBC...

[lumi-klovstad-games]

The Rise and Fall of the Wardens of Tamasa, and the Doom of the Euphoric Ravagers

In the Grim Darkness of the Far Future, there is only War.

This Darkness and Conflict has a way of testing the souls of all men, and unfortunately many are found wanting in the end.

The Chaos Marine warband known as the Euphoric Ravagers are a cautionary tale, and a tragic example of how even the best and brightest might fall into corruption and heresy, and the greatest tragedy was that their fall stemmed from their genuine desire to serve the God-Emperor of Mankind and to live righteously.

Initially founded some time after the 34th millennium, the Wardens of Tamasa grew into an Ultramarine successor chapter of great repute. Their assigned sector in the Segmentum Obscurus was regarded by many as “a little Ultramar”, with a dozen worlds noted for their high populations, excellent standard of living, and exceptional degree of safety relative to other nearby sectors.

Having tempered their armor against Ork invasions and Khornate Cults, the Wardens developed a reputation as a noble chapter who could break even the sharpest blades turned against them. Steadfastly rooted in the teachings of their Primarch, Roboute Guilliman, they were driven by a strongly held deep desire to emulate his greatness and honor his legacy.

As the centuries passed, they became warrior philosophers who carefully studied the history of their Primarch and the deeds of their Ultramarine sires and their brothers in the myriad Ultramarine successor chapters. They sought to be the epitome of discipline, order, and strategic brilliance — a star for other Chapters to fix their course by and chart their way to greatness and glory in turn.

And, for a time, it was good. Very good.

By the 39th Millennium, the Wardens of Tamasa had become heroes known far and wide, household names celebrated throughout the Segmentum. Imperial Guard Regiments were proud to serve alongside them, and other younger Space Marine Chapters looked to them for inspiration. The worlds of their sector were called “The Jewels of Tamasa” and were both prosperous and patriotic. Their Chapter Master at this time, Uraius Goremman, led them with unwavering devotion to their cause of emulating their Primarch, and was regarded by all as a wise and just leader much as Guilliman had been.

But they had been noticed by a gaze apart from the adoring eyes of the Imperium of Man. A terrible unsleeping eye in the Warp had caught notice of something stirring in the hearts of the Wardens, a weakness the chapter was unaware of, and one that could be exploited for dreadful purposes. The Wardens of Tamasa had unknowingly acquired the interest of Slaanesh, the Emperor of Excess, Prince of Pleasure, Duchess of Desire, Lord of Lust, and Countess of Chaos.

It started benignly enough: friendly rivalries emerged between the Wardens and other Ultramarines chapters. These were encouraged by Chapter Master Goremman, as these rivalries inspired his men to do better and accomplish more. But in time, the chapter became less concerned with simply living up to Guilliman’s vision and more obsessed with becoming “Ideal Sons” of the Primarch. It was not enough that they live up to his vision and embody his values, they had to be better at it than the other Ultramarine successors, and perhaps even better than the Ultramarines themselves. 

The Wardens’ obsession with perfection began to take root and consume them, their once-noble and healthy pursuit of being better scions of Guilliman transforming into an unhealthy fixation on order and discipline, and a firm belief in the preeminence and supremacy of their Chapter over all others. The seeds of Slaanesh’s corruption had taken root, nurtured by the Wardens’ unquenchable desire to mirror their Primarch. Unknown to the Wardens, Slaanesh had seized upon this opening, this weakness that formerly was their strength. The God of Obsession and Prince of Perfection entangled their minds with visions and dreams of grandeur and glory, and promises of unspeakable power to enforce their will upon their sector. The whispers grew louder, growing into sweet and haunting melodies that gnawed upon the Wardens’ subconscious and dominated their dreams. Their obsession with discipline and order grew ever more engorged, and their need for precision and perfection, though it produced ever more glorious results upon the battlefields of the Segmentum Obscurus, gradually alienated their friends and neighbors as it became more and more of a liability.

The rivalries grew more tense and strained, as they became less about pushing chapters to mutual excellence and more about proving the Wardens’ superiority. They started to treat their allies more dismissively — such allies served little purpose but to enable the glory and perfection of the Wardens of Tamasa, after all. This conduct gradually worsened as the Wardens treated any failure to uphold the Codex Astartes harshly, and any who failed to fight exactly as they perceived Guilliman would have were punished severely. As their micromanaging and perfection complexes grew, both their non-Astartes allies and the other Chapters became distant from the Wardens, dooming them to become even more entrenched in their darkening spiral as Slaanesh and its daemons subtly fed the Wardens' darker natures, pushing their obsession further and further.

The Jewels of Tamasa began to lose their sparkle, as the glittering worlds fell into the fundamentalist tyranny of the Wardens; the planetary governors obviously couldn’t be trusted to keep order adequately, so the Wardens literally replaced them. As the Jewels fell to the growing Military Junta of the Marines who once ensured their safety, the vivacious standard of living once known on those worlds and celebrated throughout the region diminished and was replaced by a totalitarian state who ensured order through fear and the harshest punishments for any infraction, as any crime or misstep, no matter how slight, became a blasphemy against the God Emperor and the memory of Roboute Guilliman. Every flaw had to be stamped out by force, because the Wardens had seen the true nature of humanity and realized that what they were doing was necessary, essential even, to realize the visions of their beloved Primarch and the God-Emperor of Mankind. Despite their brutality towards the populace, the Imperium of Man did little to respond; the Imperial Tithe was still being honored, and the populations held fast to Imperial Laws, and so the Wardens were permitted to manage the Jewels the way they best saw fit.

It is not known precisely when the Wardens of Tamasa had become irrevocably doomed to their fate, but the time of their fall into darkness is well known. Their push towards perfection damned them in the final decade of M39, as their habit of placing the Captain of one of their 10 Companies as the governor of each world of the Jewels led to an impasse — twelve worlds, but only ten captains. Chapter Master Goremman held council with his Captains as they strove to understand how their Beloved Primarch had failed to arm them for this eventuality and how to proceed. 

What followed broke the Chapter in two.

Chapter Master Goremman, having long held himself to be the paragon of Guilliman’s virtues, was the most vulnerable to Slaanesh’s insidious and corrupting influence. What had been whispers in the beginning were now a heavenly chorus guiding him at all hours, pushing him to seek answers in forbidden knowledge and rituals that promised him the strength and perfection he now constantly craved. In his desperation to attain what he most desired, Uraius Goremman sealed his own fate, and that of his chapter: Goremman decided that the words of the Codex were Absolute, sacred law. There were not "too few Captains" to govern the territory. There were simply too many planets.

With all the compassion and empathy of a raw blade swinging hungrily for the neck of an innocent, Goremman ordered "the surplus" to be "dismantled and redistributed"; two whole planets of the Jewels were to be destroyed after they were stripped of anything of value. This decision horrified the younger captains, who as far gone as they were still acknowledged that their Primarch would never destroy something so practically valuable as two whole Imperial worlds, especially heavily populated and productive worlds, to correct a math error. This disagreement swiftly led to fracturing in the chapter between the younger idealists that made up the Guilliman Loyalists and the older, more experienced (and much more thoroughly corrupted) Goremman Hardliners.

Goremman initially appeared to cede to the Loyalists logic, but their victory was short-lived and trivial, as Goremman emerged after a short period of seclusion and meditation in which he had consulted the heavenly chorus in his mind how he should proceed, and the music had answered. He ultimately declared what just a few months earlier might have been blasphemy in the chapter: Guilliman had been flawed, and not the Icon they had thought him to be. The Chapter Master “reconsidered” Guilliman to be “a flawed but well-meaning prophet”, a great and mighty but ultimately “lesser figure meant to kindle greatness in those who were truly destined for perfection”, namely, the Chapter Master and those who shared his views. It was up to them to “finish” the Codex Astartes by purging it of its imperfections and expanding it as needed to best accomplish their mission, including the establishment of as many companies as would be necessary to ensure the Chapter’s domain — and already it was obvious that the Chapter Master was anticipating expanding his realm further, turning greedy and lustful eyes to the neighboring and technically still-allied sectors as the music in his mind sang of how he could bring those neighbors closer to perfection as well. While the veteran companies agreed with Goremman, the younger Captains and Companies were incensed at the idea their Primarch and his Codex could have possibly been imperfect, and this insult to his memory and his magnum opus had proved the final straw.

Fractures in the chapter which had been developing for years over matters of orthodoxy, culture, and policy finally cracked wide open, and the Wardens of Tamasa split apart, roughly along the lines of older radicals loyal to Chapter Master Goremman, and younger idealists who felt the ideals the chapter stood for were more important than any individual leader, especially as Goremman's instability had been visibly growing. Someone needed to make a stand.

The resulting civil war tore the Chapter apart. After six years of hell, the damage done to the former Jewels of Tamasa was catastrophic. As the pro-Goremman Hardliners exterminated the Roboutian Loyalists, they succumbed to the pleasure of punishing the unworthy and the imperfect with brutal treatment, torturing them in hellishly delightful and horrific ways before taking the ultimate pleasure in executing the infidels. With the extermination of over half the chapter and their subsequent devastation of the worlds they once watched over for failing to live up to their impossible standards, their fall was now complete, and the Chapter was declared Excommunicate Traitoris by the Inquisition. A task force was hastily reassigned from any nearby Space Marine deployments and sent to wipe out the Wardens. Consisting of two companies of the Iron Hands successor chapter the Dawn Stalkers, one company from the Raven Guard successors the Mentors of Deliverance, and a company and a half from the Ultramarine successors in the Azure Magisters paired with the Astra Militarum’s Ephriosian Deathtalons and the Picicrean Black Hawks, the task force departed on a retaliatory Crusade that ultimately saw the Wardens of Tamasa cut and run rather than face destruction, with the now heretic chapter fleeing into the Eye of Terror, not to be seen for over a century.

What emerged from the Eye was not what went in over a century prior. While the Wardens of Tamasa had been corrupted, they had still ultimately desired the best for the galaxy, if only as they saw it in their narrow and murderously dogmatic view. However, the hundreds of Chaos Marines of the Euphoric Ravagers that revealed themselves were a different and even more dangerous beast. While within the Eye of Terror, Chapter Master Goremman had utterly surrendered to Slaanesh’s chorus in his mind. The tendrils of corruption snaked and wormed through his psyche, reforging his mind and soul into something beautiful and terrible: the Chaos Lord Argathes, the so-called “Lightbringer of the Violet Expanse”. His transformation had marked the Wardens’ final descent from well-intentioned extremists into blasphemous anti-crusaders who had eyes on establishing their OWN Imperium of Man, one free of the imperfections of the current system and where instead every soul with the power to act seized on their OWN sense of law and order. This blasphemous Imperium would have at its height Argathes himself, a twisted high priest to impart Slaanesh’s love, wisdom, and adoration to the people.

Donning garish colors and obscene symbols that marked them as Slaanesh’s devoted warriors, the Euphoric Ravagers became a force of unspeakable violence and debauchery. Their once pristine and gilded power armor was now adorned with the garlands of excess and perversion, reflecting their new allegiance and their disdain for the imperfect disciplines of the Imperium. Under Argathes’ leadership, the Ravagers stormed across the Segmentum, indulging in their newfound hedonistic desires, corrupting and devastating all they touched. Their acts of barbarity and perversion became the stuff of nightmares — men, women, and children fell to their knees, driven to howling madness by the overwhelming sensations and displays the Ravagers unleashed, and no one would be spared.

These veteran warriors’ obsession with perfection rendered them an implacable foe, as they had been driven by their madness to become the apex of the warrior's craft — their movements upon the battlefield were well drilled, and hypnotic in their perfect dance-like coordination. Each soldier’s form in combat was beyond reproach, with every shot and strike delivered with nanometer precision, the way they bobbed and weaved to avoid enemy attacks beautiful and graceful beyond compare. Countless of the Emperor’s faithful failed to so much as make a mark upon their glorious and ruined armor and flesh before being slaughtered in new ecstatic and rapturous ways.

So unstoppable and undefeatable were the Ravagers that they were not stopped for good until the Indomitus Crusade, when Roboute Guilliman, returned from the grave, heard what had become of his wayward successors. Despite the righteous fury that he rightfully felt towards the Ravagers and all that they had become and done, he also mourned them. He could not help but feel partially at fault for their fall, even though he fully admitted to his own errors. They had idolized him, and what he represented, and that had pushed them down a path from which the only redemption was death. Perhaps if he’d been more humble, or admitted to his imperfections more in his Codex… but Guilliman pushed these thoughts from his mind, for they would do him no good. He'd seen enough good men fall into darkness and corruption to know that in the end, it was the Wardens of Tamasa that had created an entirely unreasonable and distorted image of him to follow, and their fall had been their own doing. Now, they needed to be stopped, no more and no less.

And Guilliman knew exactly who to send to accomplish this mission.

Despite his initial wariness regarding the young chapter, the Redemptor Roses — a young chapter of Astartes that was crafted from leftover gene-seed from Guilliman’s fallen brother Fulgrim as an experiment of sheer desperation by the Imperium a few years before Guilliman’s return — had recently proven themselves at the Second Fall of Cannaey against a numerically far superior and far more experienced force of their “brothers” from the Emperor’s Children, and the Roses had not only emerged victorious, but had handily butchered the Slaaneshi Marines present on Cannaey to the last man. Even though the Imperium was unable to retain Cannaey at the battle, the Redemptor Roses had proven themselves both loyal and resistant to Slaanesh’s influence, and had already pledged themselves to eradicating the dark god’s influence wherever it could be found. Furthermore, they proved they had the skill and discipline to defeat Slaaneshi Marines who possessed superior numbers and experience, even in situations other chapters might have considered risky or hopeless.

When the Ravagers re-emerged, this time attacking the Fortress World of Agorus, Guilliman called for the Redemptor Roses to answer — and Chapter Master Gautier Boudreaux heartily answered, mobilizing over three hundred warriors to wipe out the Ravagers once and for all. Accompanied into battle by Agorus’ own Imperial Guard — the Iron Dragoons — with High Judge Archus Landaelian and his 2nd Court from the Ceramite Gavels lending their support, as well as the Sisters of Battle of the Order of the Valorous Sigil, justice was finally served upon the fallen Marines. Completely outnumbered and outgunned, with all escape routes cut off, the Euphoric Ravagers gradually realized that their quest for perfection had finally led to them biting off more than they could chew. Their deaths were assured.

And yet, in that moment, realizing that the end had come, something of the Wardens of Tamasa may have reasserted itself. It is said by all who remember the Euphoric Ravagers' destruction that their Last Stand was a PERFECT expression of the combat strategies laid out in the Codex Astartes — literally a textbook example. As justice for nearly 2000 years of blasphemy and depravity finally arrived and ended their reign of terror, they gave one last battle so beautifully executed it would have made Roboute Guilliman himself shed a single tear of appreciation.

Their last act had culminated in everything that they had originally pursued: the perfect example of Guilliman’s warrior values.

The fall of the Wardens of Tamasa serves as a grim reminder of the dangers of obsession and the treachery that may lurk in even the most noble aspirations. Their tragic fall and transformation into the Euphoric Ravagers is a testament to the cunning of the Ruinous Powers, as they were used as unwitting pawns in Slaanesh’s grand game. Their tale reminds all that no matter the purity of one’s intentions, vigilance must ALWAYS guard against the seductive whispers of the Warp.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Religious Excerpts

Author's note: this is the first part of the Fem!Guilliman in 40k AU fic! I hope that you enjoy it! Next

tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

warnings: religious writings, deification,

summary: A small collection of snippets from a collection of writings on the demi-goddess of the Imperium, Roberta Guilliman

She had asked for a brief synopsis of how she was most likely to be seen as, by different parts of the Imperium. She had sent out hundreds of intelligence gathers to move stealthily throughout the Imperium, including within Ultramar itself.

Her sons had been eager to follow her every order, the worshipful way in which they interacted with her bothered her tremendously. But she had been handed a dataslate that was a collection of poems, psalms, prayers, and fables written about The Lady Of Ultramar, the Daughter of the Emperor, Roberta Guilliman. If known, the date of creation and the author’s name has been noted down, though many such details have been lost to time.

Ballad of the Risen Primarch - written by Frater Matthew, Militant Apostolic, M42.076

The Lady with her sword aloft

Charges into  the fray

To hunt down the vile traitors

And bring them true dismay

From deepest slumber, she arose

And she answered our prayers 

While we were lost and desperate 

Showing us that she cares

She scoured Chaos from Imperial Worlds

And chased them from our space

The Avenging Daughter protects us

From Chaos and disgrace

From deepest slumber, she arose

And she answered our prayers 

While we were lost and desperate 

Showing us that she cares

The xenos quail before her gaze

And fall before her might

Orkz, Aeldari, Tau, Tyranids

Failed to survive the fight 

From deepest slumber, she arose

And she answered our prayers 

While we were lost and desperate 

Showing us that she cares

Her divine light shines so brightly

As does her wit and charm

She rules with a just and fair hand 

She protects us from harm

From deepest slumber, she arose

And she answered our prayers 

While we were lost and desperate 

Showing us that she cares

She guards us from internal strife

Corruption, decay, lies

All are placed into cleansing flames

She is Evil's demise 

From deepest slumber, she arose

And she answered our prayers 

While we were lost and desperate 

Showing us that she cares

This was written by Frater Matthew, the current Militant Apostolic working alongside Primarch Guilliman herself. He was inspired to write this poem after spending a number of months in her holy and robust presence.

She could feel a familiar headache starting to build in the back of her mind, and a low, frustrated growl threatened to rumble through her chest. She had picked Frater Matthew as he was an orator of some skill, and able to rally mortals and Astartes alike to his cause. But this... Travesty was annoying to read through.

Mother's Psalm - Author unknown. Suspected to have been written somewhere in the mid-M35s.

The sacred temple lies

The saintly Mother, who's eyes

Watch over her sons’ endless toil

At home and on foreign soil

The stasis field keeps her here

Away from the reaper's spear

Traitor's poison will not take

The fortress’ walls will not break

As Mother does, Maccrage stands

Protected by loving hands

And a sturdy wall of blue

Made of sons, loyal and true

One day, Mother will awake

With her, a new dawn shall break

She'll lead us out of shadows

And send evil to the gallows

This Psalm is found to be commonly sung by serfs of Ultramarines as well as their successor chapters, along with the civilian populations of Ultramar itself. The Psalm is also sung by the Auxilla of Ultramar, though they tend to prefer singing war songs in praise of The Avenging Daughter as she leads them to battle in Righteous fury against foul xenos and traitors alike. 

A soft sigh left her as she finished reading the psalm. At least this was less overtly religious in tone, though the fact that this was marked as a psalm did not improve her mood in the least. She was starting to realize just how wide and deep the Adeptus Ministorum had a stranglehold on the Imperium of Man as a whole... This was going to be a misery and a half to slowly and carefully untangle... If she could.

Prayer for Information This prayer was written sometime in the early M37s, by a Historitor whose name has been expunged from all records by the Ordo Hereticus.

Oh great Lady of Insight and wisdom, Maiden Mother of fair Ultramar, I come to you, humbly, on bended knees and clasped hands.

To you, I confess that I have not been sending my daily morning prayers to Him on Terra as I should be. Instead, I have been researching what I can of the history of our Great Imperium. I know it is a sin to try and learn of the past beyond what is taught in school… But my curiosity pushes me onwards nonetheless. Surely this knowledge will not cause harm?

You have my deepest thanks. For I and many others upon the world of [REDACTED] owe you our lives. Because if your auxilla and Astartes had not come to our rescue against the [REDACTED] we would have all been killed and our souls consumed by the forces of [REDACTED]. 

I humbly ask you to grant me entry into the library within the Temple of Corrections, where I would be able to continue my research and studies. I feel that if properly understood, our past could teach us many things. I patiently await your response.

Your humble servant,

[REDACTED] 

There was quite a bit of fierce debate as to whether or not to include this particular prayer to Lady Guilliman, as it has heretical elements in the prayer. Ultimately, this shows that even otherwise stalwart and obedient citizens can be heretical, and that one must always be vigilant.

... Since when was knowing the history of the Imperium illegal? Father damn them all. Those who did not learn from history were doomed to repeat it. She buried her face in her hands for a moment, unable to read on as she swore viciously in every tongue she knew. Considering what the Inquisition was like... She could guess that this poor Historitor's fate was a gruesome and miserable one indeed. She also hated that this letter had been phrased as an Emperor-damned prayer.

Psalm of praise - written shortly after Lady Guilliman’s interment into the stasis chamber, perhaps three hundred years past that event.

I will extoll the Lady at all times; her praise will always be on my lips. I will glory in HER; let all who hear rejoice. Glorify the Lady of Ultramar with me; let us exalt her name together. I sought the lady, and she answered me. She delivered me from all my woes.

This Psalm is frequently murmured by serfs and similarly ranked civilians who often work under Astartes. Particularly while the Astartes are preparing for a particularly vicious and bloody battle. 

After reading the first psalm, she decided to skip the rest of the section, the blood boiling in her veins as the grip on the dataslate caused the device to creak in protest. She would rather not have to request a new one with this information on it, because she had broken this one in her fury.

A Lesson in Obedience- This fable was written sometime in the early M34s, and presented without the artwork to shrink the file size.

The world that The Soldier was going to be deployed to protect was one of hundreds if not thousands like it. A small yellow gem of a world with over ninety percent of the available aland devoted to growing a singular crop that fed the loyal and true citizens of the Imperium. It was this soldier’s first deployment, and excitement thrummed just below the surface of his skin as he walked over to where his mother was busily working.

His mother with her honey-blond hair and clever ice-blue eyes was carefully working at her desk a dataslate in one hand, a stylus in the other as she swiftly worked. She looked up and smiled warmly as her son walked over to her. She set down the dataslate and hugged him tightly, murmuring “Good morning, my wonderful son. How goes your training?”

“It goes very well! Mother, I have good news to share with you!” The eager, blue-clad young man explained, happily hugging his mother back as he beamed with joy. 

“What news do you bring to me my son?” His mother asked, reaching up and ruffling his dark, curly hair with one hand, still hugging her precious son. 

“Like my older siblings before me, I am benign deployed to fight foul xenos! I am being sent to fight Orkz who threaten one of the worlds that grow crops, mother.” The soldier explained, still beaming up at his mother “I will be the one to kill the most of the vicious brutes of my entire battalion! I will decapitate the Ork Warboss and rip his tusks from his mouth. I will carve them into combs for your hair, mother. As a trophy!”

A soft sigh left the Mother as she hugged her over-eager son, pressing her forehead to his, before looking into his dark eyes, hoping that her words reached his heart and resonated within his mind “I don’t need an ork-tooth comb my son. As with your older siblings, all I want is for you to serve our great Imperium with honor and grace. Fight and win the battles set before you, but do not seek glory for it’s own sake. Rushing to grab glory with your own hands will only get you killed first, my son.”

“That won’t happen, mother~ I am too strong and too swift for the Orkz to be able to kill me.” The young soldier protested, shaking his head a little “My armor is too sturdy for their shoddy and broken weapons to damage.” His armor was indeed well-polished. Shining a brilliant blue and bright gold. 

“Orkz are -” The soldier’s mother tried to warn him, but the young man stepped out of her embrace as his vox began to buzz loudly.

“That’s The Captain, mother! I have been taught how to fight Orkz and other filthy xenos. I will come home victorious and with a chest full of accolades before you can start to miss me!” The young Soldier boasted as he ran out of his mother’s office, ready to take on any threats, big or small. “I must answer the call to war! Goodbye for now, mother!” 

~

Years of training and months of waiting and sparring had led to this moment for the young Soldier as he stared over the incoming horde of Orkz. They were a disorganized tidal wave of hooting and hollering green, and he double checked his bolter before he started to level his weapon at them, taking in a breath and letting it out as he prepared to fire.

“Hold your fire.” The Captain ordered. “I need you four to help complete the evacuation of the civilians from this world.” He pointed to the young soldier and three of his fellow warriors. 

“But… But sir, the Orkz are almost upon us! Shouldn’t we start to fire?” The young soldier asked, a confused expression appearing on his face.

“Are you questioning my orders, soldier?” The captain asked, his words underlined by the roar of artillery fire as they steadily flung shell after shell at the oncoming Orkish horde. “They are too far for you to hit reliably. Get going, soldier!”

The young soldier grumbled to himself as he dutifully got up and followed his squadmates over to the landing pads where several other groups of soldiers were -

She put down the dataslate, unable to force herself to continue to read the fable. She could guess as to where the story was heading, and the likely ways in which it would end. It was not worth the space it would occupy in her brain to continue to read through it. She hid her face in her hands and let out a low scream, trying not to alert the guards outside her office as to her distress.

There was a brief knock on the door before one of her brasher Captains barreled into the room, sword in hand as he did a visual sweep of the room. He didn't see any threats, so he removed his helmet and approached her, a look of mild concern on his face "I heard your yell, Mother. Is something bothering you?"

Roberta couldn't help but smile a little at his concern. Cato was rough around the edges and brash, but his boldness meant that he was the least anxious of her officer-sons to interact with her directly. "I was reading through the collection of legends that have sprung up about me, in my absence."

"Ah." Cato rumbled, briefly glancing at the dataslate on her desk, before looking back up at her "You are widely revered and held in great awe, as are all of the Holy Primarchs."

"Mm, but who we truly are has been lost to time. If Sanguinius found out how the masses - and perhaps his own sons believe him to be now..." Roberta sighed. The majority of the Imperium had come to believe that Sanguinius was a tragic, gentle-spoken martyr, whose death at the hands of the Vile Arch-Traitor was the final proof of the utter depravity that Horus had sank to. They seem to have forgotten, or been made to forget, from whom the Black Rage that afflicted most if not all sons of Sanguinius stemmed from. “His reaction would have been… Spectacular.” Throne on Terra, she missed her siblings. 

Cato nodded, looking uncertain. “Is there anything you wish of me, mother?”

A small smile appeared on her face “Only your company, if your duties permit it. I am… Finding it difficult to adjust to this new time I have woken up in. Please tell me of the battles you’ve participated in.”

Cato’s eyes lit up as he begun to talk about his past exploits, gesturing occasionally for emphasis.

[djmqt]

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[weatherman667]

Final Opinion on the Badab War

They wanted to write Huron as a magnificent bastard, so that when he falls, it’s more impactful.

The problem is they wrote him as a hero.  He does more for the Imperium, and more specifically the PEOPLE of the Imperium than anyone else.

You would think, maybe the Salamanders, because they actually care about the people, but they managed to look the other way as the Inquisition completely depopulated worlds simply for having the temerity of having to exist on the wrong side of the civil war.  Or sending an entire world into 12 generations of slavery because the Imperium caused them to starve to death, and they had the temerity to want WATER.  You see, an Inquisitrix showed up, and decided to investigate the world for heresy.  Well, probably a lot of discontent on a world that was fracturing into warring gangs to fight over scraps of food.  The Inquisitor then took over the only source of clean water as she tortured her way through the population to find wrongthink.

Small tangent, but it definitely seems like the Salamanders got shafted hard by the Badab war.  Like they wanted to pull in one well known chapter.  They then put them on the good side, so you know which side to root for.

This is because the other size was 10,000% morally superior.  So, you are writing a Start of Darkness for a no good evil villain, but you made him too good.  So, what do you do?  Give him him the villain ball and shove him down the slippery slope.

Well, that solved the problem, didn’t it?

No, it doesn’t.  If we take the Tyrant of Badab, he started using tactics that made no sense, and were a complete anathema to the tactics he had previously been using.  The short version is using poorly trained troops as Human shields.  His entire schtick was using extremely well trained and motivated troops, in combined operations.  Using poorly trained troops against Astartes just created piles of bodies.  Oh, you might say, he’s a villain, he didn’t care about his troops.

Doesn’t mean he stops caring about using tactics that work.  Not only did he not need to use slaves, but slaves make terrible soldiers.

Does it make sense for Huron to have secret recruitment and Astartes development in the outskirts fo the Maelstrom?  Yes, because he had previously conquered it.  Does it make sense for him to use feral mutants?  No, not in any way, shape, or form.  He had billions of fanatically loyal Legionary Auxillia to choose from that would LOVE to have the chance to get upgraded to Astral Claw Astartes.  Does it make sense for him to do evil, no good Human experiment to try and corrupt the gene-seed?  Absolutely not.  As if he doesn’t know what the dangers of corrupt gene-seed are.  He has literally been doing this for centuries.  That’s how he was able to get the numbers into the thousands.  He could, and should, have had multiple laboratories, getting up to the very capacity of his gene-seed collection.  He could, and should, have acted like he created a founding, by having five central sources of his Astartes.  His goal was to become a new Ultramar, afterall.

Now let’s get to him stealing gene-seed.  Until the very, very, very, very, very stupid incident where his lieutenant, Arch-Centurion Commodus tries to take-back the accepted surrender just so he can be a colossal villain and raid the Salamander’s gene-seed vault.  Before this, he was recovering gene-seed that would have otherwise been lost.  It is utterly impossible that the chapters didn’t notice the bodies of their fallen didn’t have their gene-seed.  Which means he collected the gene-seed from the ones that would have just been left to rot on the battlefield.  This, by itself, was far, far less morally questionable than what most of the loyalists did.

So, what do they have to do?  Have the chapters get pissed off at him hogging the gene-seed, anyways, as it’s an emotional point for all Astartes chapters.  This would have the emotional impact.  By adding the evil experiments that make 0 sense all they do is remove the visceral impact, just to prove how evil he was ways.

There’s also the minor issues of the fire hawks and minotaurs depopulating dozens of worlds, the insane actions of the Inquisitor, and the Administratum itself that caused the whole incident.  There’s the fact that slave raids to make more Astartes are actually considered standard procedure for some chapters, (e.g. Imperial Fists).  Putting explosive collars on your legions is incredibly inefficient, and would likely take more manpower for the shear logistics of it than you would get from the actual combatants.

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