#feat: accidentally becoming a cannibal

[incautiousdriver]

home from zee

wrote a hurt/comfort somethin for my FL and SSea characters featuring gay zee captains, orchids, british cuisine and good ol fashioned Cannibalism Trauma. enjoy!

Maril knows Allison’s returned the moment her boat graces London’s waters - call it intuition, perhaps, or just blind luck, but when the Captain of the Orchid’s Lie steps onto shore, Maril is waiting at the docks with a bundle of the boat’s namesake. Well, glass replicas, but a nice gesture all the same.

Usually Allison would smile, zee-worn and shaken but happy all the same. She’d start across the pier at a jog and, once Maril had laid whatever present she’d brought down, collapse into her arms, and whisper pleasantries and milder zee-stories and whatever else came to mind. They’d go back to Maril’s home and catch up, and make up all the time lost to the zee, and love.

Today Allison does not run down the pier to her lover. She does not smile at the orchids, or at Maril. She doesn’t smile at all. Her walk is slow. She’s got a limp now, her left leg carried slightly above the ground and almost buckling whenever she has to bear weight with it.

When she gets to the end of the pier she still collapses in Maril’s arms, but she’s silent save for the sobs.

They leave the orchids by the docks - Allison protested for a moment, but Maril needs both arms to fully support her - and make their way home. She’d had no tissues, so on the way there Maril rips a small square of fabric from her dress and dries the tears (and the blood, she notices with a sharp sting of newfound concern) from her face. They don’t speak. 

The couple reaches home a good 20 minutes later and by then Allison is practically being carried, near unconscious. They slump into the flat and Maril lays her on the sofa, gets that lovely flower shawl she crocheted a while ago and covers Allison with it. They’ll worry about changing clothes and getting out the smell of sweat and blood and fear later. 

Only then, in a safe, controlled environment, does Maril speak.

“I’ll fix us up some dinner then. Expect you must be starving - two months on those dreadful cracker things and not a steak or salad in sight would fester anyone’s appetite.”

There’s no response from the bundle of blanket, and Maril doesn’t expect one. She busies herself with getting out pans and oil and a long, fat strip of meat from the pantry. Out comes the potatos and the peeler, the flour, milk and eggs. Luxuries. She doesn’t cook toad-in-the-hole often, and admittedly it isn’t a proper one without sausages, but it’s Allison’s favourite.

She feels eyes on her back and turns, smiles at two dull eyes watching from the dark of the blanket. Allison gets in these moods sometimes - when it’s all been a bit too much she quietens, preferring to sit in one place, watch Maril intently and fiddle with her hands, or flap them as if drying them. Maril doesn’t mind one bit.

Maril beats the eggs and the flour together, humming, and preheats the oven. Her home starts to warm, and she can hear her love’s breathing relax. She brings out a knife, her favourite one, and begins slicing the meat into shapes reminiscent of sausages.

Allison sobs, sharp and violent.

She’s over there in an instant, peeling back the blanket and drawing her close, muttering comforts.

For the first time in two months Allison speaks to her.

“The meat.” She tries to say more, but her voice is swallowed up by the wailing, and all Maril can make out are 5 words, over and over.

“The meat and the prophets, the meat and the prophets.”

Maril stays there, holding Allison close and muffling the desperate mutters.

Perhaps they’ll go vegetarian for tonight.

[broken-balance-baby]

the sea has no custom, no ceremony

Hiya! Here's a little activity I wanted to do: For every week of MerMay, I post a Mermaid AU fic! these are all self-indulgent and ship-centric, but please heed the tags in the AO3 Mirror because these chapters get dark and really light in the last.

Without further ado, here's the first chapter out of four!

1/2/3/4

there is nothing that can console me

If you were to tell Ajay he would set sail among human brothers and sisters alike as the biggest pirate of the Indian Ocean back then, he would’ve laughed and returned back to where he’d been working, deep into the works of a white man’s mansion. 

Despite most of Europe’s attempts to capture him it was definitely a strange feat to become the very thing that people— his people— feared, but it was better than the nothing, the sorry state Kyrat was in, better than the edges of India and better than having to sail back as a slave into America. He killed his way out of there, he knew he could do it again. That was how his name earned respect. Pirates, bards and privateers alike had stories to tell about Captain Kalinag, the King of the Indian Ocean, ruler of Kyrat and somehow sailing through the valleys, how he was a king missing his people or how he belonged to a family of colored, rugged pirates who cannibalized each other and had to fight to survive every day for the rest of their lives.

And yet, somehow, that hadn’t really been true. His crew of pirates were those of simple people once, those who wanted nothing more than to be fishermen or hunters or just people who wanted to live, caught up in the seams of crime that will forever follow them. It was hard not to notice when many of them used their skills to kill people; animal hunters who knew where to shoot with bows and arrows, fishermen who gutted throats as easily as you could rip paper, and combat hadn’t been on the paper when it came down to it all, but the beloved Captain Kalinag was named that way for a reason. He was their warrior. He was their savior. And Ajay accidentally made a promise to help them, after all. 

As they stopped by the ports in Algiers he parted from his crew for the night to take a walk of his own into the island. Algiers wasn’t really an expected stop, but he appreciated the oversights from his crew no less. Pirate havens came far and few and many of them were home towards the west— the place they were supposed to leave. They would keep traveling far into the East if they had to, the ends of the Earth would stretch for miles and miles before they’d all end up back where they started. Ajay promised a dying girl once that he would find a place for them all, a land far from the history of blood they faced, and he meant it. Deep down in the sea there was no home for humans, but he would try his best to welcome them into the ocean just as Kyra did with the rivers and lakes that connected to its body. 

As he took a swig of whiskey he felt the twitch of his gills flare from the heat before it finally got used to it— the air always knew Ajay and Ajay always knew it back. As he breathed he would remember how he could feel the gateways of his lungs part to welcome oxygen and wait for water when he would later be dehydrated, forcing him to jump from the ship in order to take in what he’d been lacking. He was lucky that his crew kept secrets; that he was not among humans but swam along with the merpeople. That he sings to eat, that they starve for his voice until he feasts into their flesh. Hurk, Achal, Banhi, Balin, Natesa, Gopal, Pavitra and Pranav; a small team, but powerful altogether, they kept this secret tight like titanium and only spread the words that Captain Kalinag would eat the organs of his enemies just for the satisfaction of it. 

Perhaps it was a good thing to be feared. 

It was easy to get the drinks his crew wanted, to tell the stories of what the great Kalinag would be doing next; the pirates in the havens parted like the red seas as Hurk went up the tables to warn them of his presence, before the captain would drink and let the tavern celebrate it instead. The cozy feelings of the bar soon drifted away from him, the warm light and the faint sound of music nothing but faded as he continued to drink, drifting on the soils as his boots pressed against sand and earth. He stopped at his tracks as he heard the rustling of leaves. Had it been an animal, he would’ve smelt it, the smell of flesh or grass fresh and new, but instead he realized as they stood upright that it was a human, smelling of alcohol and iron. Tilting his head, feeling the empty feeling in his stomach claw its way up to his throat, he followed seamlessly. 

The human moved, trudging along and drifting up north the island, where foliage became thicker and the forests became deeper, but knowing the makeup of the island he knew he would be quite alright knowing he could simply dive from the cliff and swim back to the ship. For this human, however, they would be ready to meet their end in a matter of minutes once Ajay delved close enough. 

All the way through, he let his throat open, and it clicked as the voice crawled out of his throat. It was a soft, high pitched thing, layered with bass from his chest as he started to sing, making sure the human was following the sea close by as he was with them. Stepping through branches, snapping on twigs and nearly sliding on rocks, he finally made it to the top with them, finding a mass of thick hair on this person’s head and a tall (but not as tall as he) stature. She was a woman, if the hips and the weakness of her body would allow him to guess, and the faint breathing followed by a soft mumble further confirmed it. Ajay began to sing louder, leaning closer towards her until his chest pressed against her back. His songs were of drifting notes, floating in the air, filling both their ears as he slowly sifted his fingers through the back of her head, untying a ribbon at the back of her shirt, wrapping his fingers around the edges and pushing it open until it met the edge of her corset. From there, he loosened it as he sang, leaning his head onto her shoulder and breathing in her blood and feeling the corset snap. 

Topless, the woman’s breath hitched, his singing continuing almost endlessly as his hands drifted down to her hips to push her skirt, her underwear down to where it fell around her ankles. Soon, his song faded, just like the rest of the world, as his fangs formed, as his claws sunk into her skin, but instead of expecting her to fight back she accepted death swiftly. 

“Go, do it, devour me,” her voice was shaky, “I have no reason to live beyond this now.”

He stared at her for a moment. Then, pulling her by her hips he pressed them again together so he could lean in and see her face. 

She was a beautiful woman, face framed by an oval shape and graced with an arched nose. Her eyes were sharp and so were her cheekbones— she had been a little older than him, he was sure. The thin skin riding over her face was riddled with gradual wrinkles, and as he let his fingers drift upwards he felt the tenderness of her breasts that were lined with stretchmarks. 

It was lean meat.

He was hungry. 

It was only until a gunshot fired in the distance, right from his spine and into his stomach, that he had to stop. Snapping his head back, he noticed the stance of a white man dressed in loose clothing and button ups as he held his pistol up, and just as Ajay began to taste the iron in his mouth, he unhinged his jaw, pulling open the skin of his cheeks as he roared, eyes sharp and wide before he pulled the woman with him down into the cliff before another shot could go off. 

And from there, his wounds healed as the salt water filled him and his lungs, the woman remaining naked as she refused to fight against the ocean. As his tail shaped itself he pushed against the water and hooked his arm around her stomach swimming them towards where the water had met the earth. 

They gave her clothes and tied her down to the railing of the ship as soon as they left the island. They prepared the tools and planned out the methods of torture, but Ajay found himself looking at her up and down again, pitying that they might have to ruin such a pretty face for some petty answers. 

Still, he knew that man. Captain DePleur, the once sturdy leader who once served the Royal Navy in exchange for the safety of his family was turned into a mercenary ever since his predecessor had taken the fleet down and separated him from them. Whoever his boss was now, up to Hurk’s words he would’ve known they would be due with their lives by now if they found out what he was doing. Hunting down Captain Kalinag had apparently been one of his jobs— and his jobs included this woman. 

She made no intention to defend herself, to fight back. She was drained off life and Ajay pretended not to know what kind of eyes they were. Pranav took her by the chin and forced her to look up, demanding an explanation before she said, “I don’t think it matters.” Her voice was quiet, “just kill me.” 

And so they tried. That is, until he grabbed Pranav by the wrist and stepped forward. 

“Why do you insist on dying?” Ajay asked, kneeling down on one knee. “We still need answers, badi.”

He tucked a lock of hair behind her ear, hand drifting down to her chin and tilting her face upwards to meet his eyes. Tears welled up in her eyes, and she sobbed, but Ajay ran his thumb over her bottom lip and kept her face cupped for his crew to see. 

“Kill me!” She demanded, rocking forward and trying to hit her head against Ajay’s to tempt him. 

“What do we do, boss?” Hurk said, drawing his machete from his holster. 

Ajay raised his hand to stop him. 

“Answer our questions first,” Ajay told her gently, then let go of her face. “Then we’ll free you.”

Her name was Noore; once a slave under DePleur she was tricked into working for those under Pagan Min’s mother, resulting in them getting killed. She worked for Captain DePleur since, having thought that she could be reunited with her once living family. 

The plan had failed. So had her promise to die. Ajay pitied her, but he told her that they’d plan an honorable death for her in a week’s time. For now they need to find DePleur and kill him before the news spreads that Captain Kalinag was a mermaid lest the royals be involved. She was shocked, to say the least, insisting on killing herself just to get it over with, but Ajay had insisted that she’d be useful in current directions with the way they’re going now. They were heading up North— a huge risk, but it was a place that Noore was found to be familiar with, and so they made the deal. 

She dies within a week; and within the week they come to DePleur and erase him. 

He swims along the seas, patrolling for opposing ships that could come their way before he knocks against the wood of his ship and asks to be hoisted up. He’s still wet by the time he’s offered out, unable to walk, before Noore had gotten up to ask to be untied. 

“Boss?” Achal tilted his head towards Ajay. Confused, suspicious, he agreed, and Noore approached him, taking her shirt off to wipe Ajay dry. She presses the cloth against his cheeks, his gills, his sides and his legs, until Ajay is fully naked with his legs finally reformed from the drought. He reached out, thanking Noore, as she puts her shirt back on and offers her hands to be tied again. 

“No,” Ajay said, getting up to get his clothes on, “don’t limit yourself to the binds anymore. Walk freely.”

“And if I die of my own volition?” she asked. 

“We’ll see if you do.” Ajay simply said. Facing the horizon, his eyes flickered back to her for a second before walking off to man the ship.

He didn’t notice how she looked at him in disbelief.

He was enthralled, to say the least, as he traversed the stormy oceans with the crew. Hurk had thrown up, Achal nearly tossed off-board had it not been for Noore’s suggestion to tie everybody to the ship. She was useful to the crew, it would be a shame if anything could happen to her even before what they were supposed to prepare. He also learned how he was an intelligent woman despite her status, a scholar of medicine where she was taught by other women who helped her treat the wounds of the slaves around her. She was used to the smell of blood, the desires of carnage that ran deep among the pirates, and she was never new to this violence. She indulged, to say the least, and with this being her last week alive he decided that she would join them in battle the next time they come across an opposing ship. Banashur’s mighty drums struck the waters with his thunder, and as everyone sought refuge inside they grew hungry and decided to have their dinner. 

“But I don’t know how to fight,” she said as she helped out in the kitchen. She cut open the throat of three fishes with one swing and Ajay had leaned on his hip, watching with intent as blood spilled down the wood of their ship. 

“Think of your enemies as simple fish,” he said, taking another fish from their basket and throwing it at her, for her to retaliate with a slash into its stomach. Naturally, blood had rained over them, but Ajay took the blood by Noore’s lips with his thumb and pulled it back to lick it off. “It wouldn’t be so hard if you did.”

“Are you sure?” Noore said, glancing over his shoulder. It prompted Ajay to follow her eyes but he turned back to find a knife to his throat. 

“Are you really sure, fish?” She asked. 

Ajay stared back at the dark of her eyes, then to the ridge of her nose and down to the swell of her lips. He grabbed the knife by the blade, sweeping her feet off the floor and pinning the knife above her head where she fell back against the table. Looming over her, he grinned with the shapely fangs, dragging the knife against the wood before moving it to her throat.

“I’m very sure.” Ajay said, before pulling back and fixing his shirt. “Train with what you have, Noore. We always stay on alert.”

The thunder rumbled in the distance. He had a feeling something came afoot. 

Later, when two ships would collide in battle, Noore fought like she danced. She slashed open throats and slipped under the swings of swords, but her defensiveness was low and it showed with the way her body was almost lacerated to the touch by the time they were done. Banhi caught her before she could collapse onto the floor, and Ajay removed his shirt to tie it around the woman’s bleeding waist before having to stitch the rest together. 

She moaned in pain, all the way through, but Hurk had gotten her a bottle of whiskey that they forced her to down as Ajay stitched her sides shut. He took her in his arms and lowered them both down to the waters below as the enemy ship burned from behind them, where he ran his fingers over her wounds and let the salt water close the wounds with a soft blue glow. 

When they were finished, Noore had fallen unconscious. Ajay took her to bed and waited until she would awaken.

He thought of how pretty her hands were as he held them in his own hands. Something so distinctly human compared to the scales that decorated his hands permanently; the webs that threatened to unfold between his fingers and the fins that wrapped around the edges of his wrists, forcing him to wear his gloves at all costs except now. It was the one thing that didn’t change about himself. The particular things that got his hands cut when he tried to work as a child, the things that made his hands rougher than they should have when it would later handle things like weapons or pure heat; the water always by his side to heal him. 

Still, healing never really means undoing it. 

He couldn’t undo the damage that she had done unto herself, and he pitied her for it. 

He was born to the rivers that flowed far and wide into the sea. 

He swam with his mother, occasionally falling asleep in her arms as they drifted lazily among the ridge between saltwater and freshwater— the brackish waters, his home. Later, when King Min had stepped into power despite being of mixed blood, his mother was taken away from him when he was young and he had never seen her again. Despite the defenses that his father held up, none were truly safe by the hands of the colonizers, and so the scars of growing with invader after invader began to count themselves one by one. On his hands, on his back, his body… he had known war before he ever started it across the sea.

That was the story he told Noore as she rested. 

“I could hazard a guess that this will be your only chance to know your captors. Others will consider this a parting gift, being at the mercy of Captain Kalinag,” Ajay rambled, “but really… I like your attitude towards me. I hope you take my healing as thanks.”    As he faced away, Noore’s hand had squeezed onto his grip before he had let go of it. 

If you’d like, I wish to know you more. 

A week is almost ready to pass by the time night will fall. They drew near to the North West, where everything started and threw Ajay to the bottom once.

He will never let that happen again. 

It was a strange tactic, but by the time Ajay was finished he had wondered how long it had been since he’d hunted like his true nature intended; singing to lure them in, to kill. 

It was already a week and DePleur was a corpse turning into acid in his stomach, and he looked at Noore in the eyes and realized they were supposed to follow through with the promise. 

“Stay with us,” Ajay tried, cupping her face in his hands as she prepared herself for death. “Please.”

“What am I to do with you?” Noore asked, but she had not fought against the touch. 

But she shook her head. She smiled, leaning into him, breath in breath and lips barely touching, only for her gasp for air. Ajay clawed through her throat with his bare hands, and she had not fought against it. Her body fell into the ocean, and his desires to follow in with her were restrained by the way he knew his people needed him more.

Noore had a life, once. A family. She will return to that once more, but he shall swim for his. 

[the-wotog-collection]

current (4/27/2020) list of aus

so! we have one overarching universe (wotog) that almost everything falls under, with the exception of the chromatica crew and the Project 83 kids. and, because we have so many kids and so many ideas, naturally, we’ve come up with (entirely too many) alternate universes to put them in. designated tags for each au are after each description.

this is also gonna be really long so i apologize in advance. everything is under the cut.

pirate: this is actually set somewhere in the beginning-middle of True Canon, after the og crew (minus anne and viren) went around the continent, witherhurst, and decided “yknow what? there’s nothing else to do here, let’s go be pirates i guess” so they proceeded to steal a pirate ship and go be pirates. #pirate au

ccak: cats, coffee, and kink. this is the generic modern au, and i love it so much. to me, this is True Canon but for the modern aus. set in fantasy-modern new york city, it’s basically slice of life as the kids just kinda exist together. #ccak

flowers: ah yes, the soulmate au. [redacted] actually came up with the idea for this one: everyone is born with at least one soul mark. they have one that’s their own, and it takes the shape of their favorite flower somewhere on their body, and is filled in with the actual colors of the flower. but, because this is a soulmate au, most people have more than one mark. okay this is gonna be a little hard to explain so. person A has a rose on the back of their left hand, and that’s their soulmark. they have a romantic soulmate, person B, so they might have a red lily on their right forearm (or wherever it is on person B). they also have a platonic soulmate, person C, so they have a blue daffodil on their leg, and a familial soulmate, so maybe a green peony on their back. and a person doesn’t know what kind of soulmate they’ll have until they meet their soulmate and their marks start to fill in. a person’s personal mark goes gray if they go against destiny and love someone who doesn’t share a mark with them, and their mark fades almost completely when that corresponding soulmate dies. (in addition, fantasy races don’t exist in this one, and if i remember correctly, magic isn’t a thing either.) #flowers

wings: this one is pretty straightforward. everyone has wings (and everyone is human, rather than fantasy races), and it’s great. #wings au

wolf/vamp: so in this one, everyone is human, but can be turned into (or born as, i guess) a werewolf, a vampire, or, in some rare cases, a cross between the two: a vaewolf. this one is kinda grittier to me, but that’s just the impression i personally get from it. #wolf au #vamp au

outbreak: the obligatory zombie apocalypse au, feat. low magic and a very soft magic system. Zombies are made of a mix of magic and disease, so a cure is virtually impossible. Typical gritty ‘everyone’s depressed and just doing their best to survive’ apocalypse shenanigans. #outbreak

hanahaki: self-explanatory. a modern au, i’m imagining it as similar to ccak, but in which the hanahaki disease is a thing and occurs. #hanahaki au

fae-u: a modern-ish au, in which mythical creatures exist! has heavy ties into japanese folklore and myths, with some more western ideas as well. this one is pretty xander-centric. #faeu #fae u

pantheon: the kids are deities! based more on greek mythology, and takes place in ancient greece, if i’m not mistaken. #pantheon

vigilante: heroes and villains are a thing, and where there’s heroes and villains, there’s vigilantes! this one is mostly centered around xander, hatch, and glo. #vigilante #vigilante au  

reaperverse: set in a world where reapers come to collect souls when they die, one stubborn woman (spoilers: it’s eve) simply refuses, and forgets, to die, and shenanigans ensue. #reaperverse

prince and the gardener: based on a tumblr post i'll look for later, the palace gardener falls in love with the prince. they are, of course, none other than hatch and xander. they have therai, palace guard, and eve, reluctant queen, on their side, and life is good. #prince and gardener

warrior cats: the guilty pleasure au. (for me, anyway.) the kids, but set in the warrior cats universe, so they’re all cats. sue us. (actually please don’t, neither of us have any money.) #warrior cats au

dark carnival: Based on the vocaloid song Dark Woods Circus (i lost the link im so sorry), this au is Pippin-centric. Focuses on Pip as they’re dragged to a twisted hell by a demon that goes by the name of Ringmaster (Intem). Everyone in the carnival is a sinner, who was sent to hell for crimes they committed in their lives. Eve and Vik are the twins (Also based off ‘see no evil speak no evil’), Dante’s the deformed diva, and Therai is the blue beast??? He’s the cannibal guy. There’s a happy ending I promise. #dark carnival au

accidental summoning: based on the fic Twine (x) by CrunchyWrites on ao3, hatch is a witch and accidentally summons xander, a demon. they kinda fall in love, but also stuff happens. you’ll see. #accidental summoning

reputations au: ah yes, an au based on an au. this one is based on the fic Reputations (x) by Tromper on ao3. two empires have been at war for the past ten or so years, and it’s been a bloody one. until! each side decides to have their best warriors marry each other as a sort of peace treaty, and it’s a slow burn enemies to husbands to friends to lovers. #reputations au

class swap: basically, we were like “hey what if everyone swapped classes” so! this was born. gotta remember who swapped with who. vik and pippin switched (vik is now a rogue and pippin is a bard), therai and tal switched, i think eve and intem switched, and xander and maybe hatch switched? i think. #class swap

merfolk: everyone is a merfolk! their society is essentially made up of lesserfolk, higherfolk, serpents, and leviathans. anyway it’s life under the sea and it’s great. #merfolk au

pokemon: a pokemon au! we came up with our own region for this one, based on alaska, and it’s actually really good and a lot deeper than i thought it would be! #pokemon au

fairy au: different from FaeU in that everyone is a fairy, instead of mythical creatures. this one is pretty straightforward too. #fairy au

a pirate’s life for me: okay so we were both involved in our school’s production of the musical A Pirate’s Life For Me ([redacted] was cast, i was crew) and after a couple showings we were like “hey new au idea” so. this happened. long story short: eve is a lady, bored of noble life, and decides to go become a pirate to spice things up. her suitor, tal, is heartbroken and says yknow what! if it’s a pirate she wants, it’s a pirate she’ll get! so he goes and becomes a pirate too. eve runs into the notorious Captain Scars (intem) and Captain Vex (vik), and carves a place for herself in infamy as the pirate queen. #pirates life au

warrior princess: [redacted] came up with this one and it’s really cool actually! so, eve is a warrior princess, a role she filled after xander, the kingdom’s warrior prince, mysteriously vanished one day. she fills this role quite well, even if she isn’t particularly happy with her life, until a ~mysterious stranger~ offers to whisk her away to the feywild, so she can be free. (spoilers: she goes with him.) #warrior princess au

the witcher: this has been our hyperfixation for the past couple of weeks (at the time of writing this). marlowe and i decided to watch the witcher netflix series and said “hey new au idea”. i read copious amounts of fics and [redacted] is consuming frankly scary amounts of witcher media, so, this au was born. therai takes the place of geralt, and where would he be without his bard, eve? #witcher au

[warsofasoiaf]

Next primarch question. This time, it's the fabulous golden hawk boy himself, the conflicted Imperator Regis of Imperium Secundus. What have you to say about Sanguinius?

becauseforoncethisisme said: I don’t even read or know anything about W40K but I’m dying of curiosity about Sanguinius because you offhandedly mentioned that he was attacked by radioactive cannibals and I was all wait WHAT now?      

The Great Angel. The Bright One. The Son Too Good for This Sinful Galaxy. Sanguinius was, by Horus’s estimation, all of the Emperor’s qualities rolled into a single being, and the better choice for Warmaster. In the modern galaxy, Sanguinius is the martyr who saved the Imperium at the cost of his life. He put the chink in Horus’s armor that the Emperor used to obliterate the Arch-Traitor. What can be said about him that hasn’t been said already? Quite a lot, actually. Sanguinius in the Horus Heresy novels shows a rich, deeply-conflicted character. One of the gentlest souls, yet one of great power when roused, and ultimately, saved through faith in his sons.

Sanguinius rose on the irradiated Baal Secundus, guided by a tribe known as the Blood. Radiation tainted the planet, and the people of Baal lived in the ruins of a planet once great during the Dark Age of Technology, hunted by packs of mutant cannibals. Sanguinius himself was not spared mutation, upon emerging from his pod he had a pair of small wings on his shoulder. This nearly ended him, the Blood understood that mutation was danger and death, yet the mercy of the people won out, the infant himself bore no other abnormality. This would change quickly, he grew at a rapid pace and quickly became the hero that the Baalites needed. At a year old, he was a young adult, and he could do everything that his people required, and those tiny cupid wings became a majestic wingspan capable of bearing him aloft, inspiring his people.

Yet it was not just his mighty wingspan, Sanguinius was a fearsome warrior. When attacked by a pack of mutants, Sanguinius slew them in a terrifying rage, so spurred on was he by the danger his friends were in. This marked one of Sanguinius’s most notable dichotomies: brave and calm in the face of personal danger, driven to acts of terrifying strength and fury when those he cared for were threatened. This was the mark of Sanguinius, and one of his greatest strengths and flaws. He was capable of dramatic, amazing action in defense of those he wished to defend, but that instinct could lead him to make rash decisions as well. Also key to Sanguinius were his visions. Like Konrad Curze, Sanguinius was tormented by visions of the future, especially his own grim death. Yet where Curze succumbed to fatalism, Sanguinius bore the grim fate with noble bearing.

Under his leadership, the Baalites no longer were wandering tribes clinging for survival in a blighted hellscape, but a united force of humanity, clearing vast stretches of territory to gain a chance at a true civilization, and the people flocked to his banner. As evidence of that, the people built an amphitheater on Mount Seraph, and there Sanguinius gave a speech to his people, at the culmination of which, the Emperor showed himself among the audience, beaming with pride at his son. Sanguinius swore allegiance immediately, likely due to his psychic visions giving him portents of the future which would include his father. Soon, he was ready, at the head of the Ninth Legion: The Blood Angels. Many of his brothers loved Sanguinius, and he found ways to bond with each. He shared Fulgrim’s love of art, he liked Jaghatai’s study of the Warp, he bonded with Russ’s controlled fury. He could talk to Guilliman about state-building and Dorn about duty. Though above it all, Sanguinius was closest to Horus, both were effective commanders, both looked to surgical strikes, both were amazing warriors. When Horus became Warmaster, Sanguinius heartily supported his brother, and swore to provide him all the aid he could.

Much like Sanguinius himself, the Blood Angels specialized in aerial assault and close combat. They take on high-risk, high-reward missions to secure strategic points and eliminate key enemy figures. The Angel used his wings, his gene-sons would use their jump packs, and always exposed themselves to the riskiest part of the battle, as Sanguinius never was one to shirk danger due to fear. The Blood Angels also harbored a terrifying secret, they shared part of Sanguinius’s terrible fury. Known as the Red Thirst, it was a gradual decline of faculty and control, growing thirstier and thirstier for blood until reason began to fail them, restraint became ineffective, and the Blood Angel would drink deep of the fallen’s blood. Sanguinius was horrified, and kept the flaw a secret from his brothers and father. He feared his father purging the Blood Angels, he feared the lost standing in the eyes of his brothers, and he labored to find a cure. Few learned the truth, Horus being one, who swore to keep his brother’s secret.

Yet this secret, and the love and trust Sanguinius had with his brother Horus, would plant the seeds of ruin. After his corruption, Horus would send Sanguinius to Signus Prime, using the hint of a possible cure or method to control the gene-flaw to properly motivate Sanguinius, as well as isolate his legion from seeking any fellow Astartes support (even though Horus knew Sanguinius did not suspect his treachery, he was almost always methodical in his planning as befits a Warmaster). Horus set Sanguinius into a trap, using the denizens of the Warp to push the Blood Angels beyond their limits. The two Chaos leaders differed over the plan. One idea was to corrupt Sanguinius, with the Keeper of Secret Kyriss the Perverse, the other was to kill him with Bloodthirster Ka’Bandha, an idea shared by Horus who secretly feared being surpassed by Sanguinius and eclipsed and forgotten (the feat that helped push him in the first place). Meeting the latter first, Sanguinius dueled the Bloodthirster, who crushed the Angel’s legs and used his inability to move to slaughter hundreds of Blood Angels, mocking the hero as the psychic pain of losing his gene-sons overwhelmed his mind, and the rage began to overwhelm his sons. Yet thanks to his Librarians, Sanguinius was revived, and charged back into the fray, impaling Kyriss and tearing Ka’Bandha’s wings off and kicking him into a pit. Kyriss then showed his plan, offering the ragefire to Sanguinius, to take in the rage of his sons and save them from it, at the cost of himself. This was carefully crafted to appeal to Sanguinius. Ka’Bandha used the link between Sanguinius and his sons to knock him out, but Kyriss used the love he had to corrupt him. Much like with Tzeentch and Magnus, Chaos needled its way to strike where it hurt the most, but Mero stopped Sanguinius by taking a third option, sacrificing himself instead so that Sanguinius could slay the Keeper of Secrets and save the Blood Angels. This would be a running theme in the Blood Angels: sacrifice.

When Sanguinius reached the 500 Worlds, it was completely by accident, the Warp wrecking havoc and the Pharos Beacon illuminating Ultramar. Yet despite the accidental arrival, it fit directly into Guilliman’s plans, to make him the Emperor of Imperium Secundus to pre-emptively end any leadership conflict with the Lion. Yet Sanguinius made sure to divide his power, entrusting Guilliman with the state-building and the Lion with the defense, building themselves into a power that could match the Traitor Legions in unity until such time that Terra and their father could be confirmed. Here, he showed his leadership, holding himself to the high standards he held his brothers and tormented by the visions of his death and the reality of the situation upon Ultramar. When the Lion returned to claim Curze and deliver the truth, to Sanguinius’s eternal credit, he ceded Imperium Secundus immediately, and looked to redeem himself for any perceived treason and meet his destiny.

The Warp would surely test him. His visions of his death made him wonder about the nature of Fate, and the path through the Ruinstorm showed him the stakes of the galaxy should Chaos win and existence be tainted. The path through the Ruinstorm was the 40K equivalent of Jesus going to the desert, where the whispers of Satan became the whispers of Madail the Undivided, Daemon and Preacher of Chaos Undivided, who had come with one goal: convert Sanguinius into the Angel of Ruin that would bring about Chaos’s final victory. Here, Sanguinius was presented with the ultimate decision between two terrible choices, his destiny was not set in stone. He could slay Horus at the last minute, but end up being a greater champion of Chaos than Horus, or he could accept his fate and the psychic pain would curse his sons with the Black Rage, the second of the two terrible flaws of the Blood Angels. From a literature perspective, this is a masterfully done decision, to present a character with two absolutely unacceptable options to illuminate more about them, to show what they are in adversity.

“Because as long as one single Blood Angel lives, he will be the master of his spirit. He will not let the abyss that lies in the hearts of us all take him into darkness. That is the truth you did not understand, the truth that Horus has forgotten. It is not the descent toward the shadow nor the rise toward the light that makes us superior. It is the endless struggle between the two that greatness of character lies. We are tested, and we do not break. We will never fall!”

His choice speaks to his character, a man of unyielding faith, not in himself, but in his sons. It was his victory in Fear to Tread and comes back in Ruinstorm. His choice gives his sons the Black Rage, but he believes in the spirit of the Blood Angels, that they will take the darkness and endure it, to become the greatest that they can. This is the promise of the Astartes, to take on the dangers that which only they, in their gene-crafted bodies, can handle to protect humanity. And when Madail attempts to pin him, it is his gene-sons who come to his aid again, with Alatron pinning him in place and birthing the Warp-entity as the Sanguinor, the literal embodiment of the brotherhood and sacrifice of the Blood Angels into an actual entity that comes in the time of their greatest need. Yet even the mighty Sanguinius had his limits, and Konrad Curze finally broke them with all his rampant torture and murder. He shows Konrad that there might have been a way to avoid his fate, before sealing him in a Stasis Coffin and sending him off, saying that even if his father forgave him, Sanguinius himself could not and because of his own actions, Curze would never even be given the chance to achieve it. Thus, he would drift in that coffin until his own prophecized end. That one-two punch, that all of Curze’s awful actions could have been for nothing (since if his fate was not set in stone, then his First Great Thesis and reason for being is gone) and that he would have to drift until his end in a hell of his own making broke him. Even if the Emperor was the tyrant Curze believed, even if everything he did was vindicated, it was never always destined, and that was a stunning refutation and acceptance of destiny.

Speaking of destiny, it is no wonder then, that when the Dark Angels, Ultramarines, and Blood Angels emerge, it is the Blood Angels who are picked to stand on Terra, while Guilliman and Lion give him the cover he needs. They understand the journey and have accepted the destiny of their brother, just as they worked together in the Warp, their brotherly bond allowing them to reach their brother in a way that their gene-sons couldn’t match (the Warp is metaphorical like that). When Sanguinius stood on Terra with Dorn and the Khan, he knew his fate, but still fought to defend humanity, to give time for his brothers to arrive, for the golden future that his father promised even though he knew he would never see it. When the Emperor said that it was time to go to the Vengeful Spirit, it was the tolling of the bell that Sanguinius accepted. He was at peace with his fate, and though he would go down fighting, he still did what he was as Sanguinius. He offered his brother mercy, and when it was refused, he offered him his blade. And when Horus broke his back over his knee, his destiny was fulfilled at last, the visions he saw since his birth coming full circle.

He went into his doom willingly to save as much of the Imperium as he could, and he sent that light down through his gene-sons, his brothers, and the example he set in life and death. He was a deeply complex man, a man who nearly was pushed to his ruin more than once, yet stabilized himself by remembering his humility and humanity. He gave it everything he had and handled his death with a rare dignity, leaving the galaxy with a legacy of a hero.

Thanks for the question, For Once and Calagon.

SomethingLikeALawyer, Hand of the King