#lorgar aurelian x reader

[moodymisty]

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author's note: Inspired by this post here. I only did one quick revise, so forgive any mistakes

Relationships: One sided Horus/Fem!Reader, Implied Lorgar/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Slightly yandere, Pregnancy kink, Tokophobia, Is this... is this kidnapping? Horus took you to punish Lorgar on Kor Phaeron's (and probably emps lol) advice, Male masturbation, Horus jacking it to you being his lover instead of Lorgar's because he is ~normal~, Very thinly veiled breeding kink, A very vague comment about reader being 'well fed'

So I beg of you, Warmaster Horus, help me right Lorgar before he goes further down this path. I truly believe you are one of the only men who can help him before he is truly lost. - Captain Kor Phaeron of the Word Bearers

A Luna Wolf captain stands having given Horus this letter- hand written. A odd act considering the ease of vox or other forms of Imperium communication, but perhaps the context of the letter gave the choice more sense.

“May I ask what the letter entails, Warmaster? The Word Bearer was quite insistent it be delivered with the upmost haste.”

Horus understands why. This is indeed something that needs fixing. Lorgar has gone down a path that is in opposition of their crusade. Things are corrupting his mind, and they need to be cut out like a malignancy before they take over him completely.

“...It is about Primarch Lorgar.”

The Luna wolf nods. He accepts that is all Horus will tell him, though if the Astartes says anything else, it is lost on Horus. He leaves moments after, hearing the sound of the door open and close. He doesn't look up to see, as his eyes focus on the material Kor Phaeron send with this handwritten letter.

The picts are small between his fingers, but the image is as clear as can be.

You are beautiful.

You are very pregnant.

As Lorgar’s beloved your dress is ornate and intricate, and does nothing to hide the swell of your massive belly. If anything it almost seems to compliment it- gold filigree dances around the edges of the fabric sewn to give way to your ever growing belly.

To see that they- the Primarchs - can have children is… It struck something in him that he can’t explain.

To have a child, an actual child; his own creation and not a spliced together genetic abomination related to him by science only. He can see why Lorgar has lost his way, and this needs to be corrected.

He’ll do this deed for Kor Phaeron; For The Emperor who is already concerned about Lorgar's lack of progress. But he's not doing it for them, not for the Word Bearers. It's because Horus wants to be selfish. He wants you.

On Terra it rains, droplets streaking down every bit of glass and metal. It pitter patters like music, covering the droll humming of machinery and shaking of pipes. You remain completely dry however, protected by the golden walls and ceilings of the Terran palace.

You've only just arrived, escorted to him from a Luna Wolf dropship. The trip was long are arduous, and he's thankful you survived it unharmed.

You look even more striking that you had in the picts Kor Phaeron and sent to him. The first sight he has of you, face to face, is enough to make him feel something in his chest.

Your skin is healthy and glowing, eyes bright. Lorgar has clearly been feeding you quite well, your hips are full and round.

Horus comes closer intent to greet you and watches the way you don't make eye contact with him, shaking and holding your hands together tightly. His guards he had requested to escort you have since left on his orders, leaving you both to have a moment of privacy.

“Do you need anything?” He says with a smile and a gentle tilt to his voice, warm and inviting.

And yet the look you give him when you glance up is absolutely fear stricken. He softly smiles, trying to blunt his edges.

"Perhaps I should've started with a proper introduction, instead of putting you on a pedestal so quickly. I am Horus Lupercal. Warmaster." His head tilts downward slightly, smile gentle. The pelt wrapped around his shoulders shifts.

"I believe you already know my brother, and quite well."

He takes a knee to stand at level with you, and he can see a marginal amount of fear leave you as he enters an area closer to your own headspace. He supposes it's understandable. You've only known Lorgar- he has made very sure the other primarchs were unaware of you - and in your current state, he can see why this would all be so overwhelming. Primarchs are not just anyone, they can overwhelm even the most stalwart of humans.

You aren't just a normal human however, as you've so easily demonstrated already.

“I apologize for, all of this. But Lorgar needs to calm down and be spoken to without distractions. I’m afraid your condition has blinded him to his own duties.” Horus smiles at you.

“You are a smart woman, I know you are. You know that Lorgar has things he needs to do for the sake of this Imperium you live in.”

You look away from him for a moment, left hand wrapping over your right wrist as they rest on your belly.

"I didn't know he was shirking his duties to you, if I did I would've..." You hesitate, conflicted.

Horus sighs.

Lorgar put so much on such a young, beautiful human, and now you has to deal with the consequences of his own mistakes. Even if you aren't the one who is being punished, reprimanded, warned, you- and your unborn child - are still affected by all of this.

Ever so gently he takes a risk, reaching a hand forward to cup your arm. You don’t wilt away and so he’s pleased, feeling the warmth of your skin.

“Please do not think you are a prisoner here. I merely wish to make sure you are the safest you can be while you are not with Lorgar."

You nod at him, giving him just the slightest smile as he pulls his hand away. But only partly, as it hovers in the air between the both of your bodies.

“May I?” That smile fades as you look at him confused, before realizing what he's asking.

“Oh, sure. I think they're asleep though, so you might not be able to feel anything.”

With your approval gained he puts his hand to your belly, and watches his palm cover so much of it. It takes a moment, before he can feel it. Even if your child is asleep, he can feel what a normal human cannot.

The soft movement against his palm, the shifting of your baby. The gentle thrum of it's heartbeat.

Something pulls at Horus from deep within himself, keeping his hand welded to your stomach until your eyes move from watching his hand on your belly, and he has to pull away to save face. He places the same hand on his thigh as he kneels, and gives you a wide, warm smile.

“Please, do not be afraid to tell me any of your needs. Myself, my Luna Wolves, and the serfs of the palace are here for you.” The declaration shocks you, a reaction he hadn’t entirely expected. He just gave you so much ability, and he barely knows you.

“Warmaster that is-“ “Horus, is fine.”

You purse your lips for a moment. You're so overwhelmed by this all he can tell. With time you'll settle though, he's sure of it. You're just tired and nervous from your long trip, and being so, so far away from Lorgar.

“I, I thank you for your support, I am forever in your debt.” Horus laughs.

Would you let him feel your belly again? Could he get away with asking to put his ear to it, to hear the heartbeat of a half primarch so closely?

“Nonsense, you are the beloved of one my dear brothers; I only wish to make your time here as comfortable as I am able.”

You let show an actual, real smile- your face glows. Horus sees what Lorgar has been distracted by; Horus would find himself having trouble as well.

Suddenly however you grimace, letting out a whimper and holding your belly. Horus becomes alight with worry, instinctively reaching a hand out to you that grasps your arm once again.

“Are you ok?!” He says, as you soon gather yourself and nod.

“Yes, sorry sometimes they just kick really hard.”

Horus recovers from the startle and laughs. He dares to lean closer, and returns a gentle hand to your belly. He does a few soothing, circling motions. You seem much less unnerved by him now, you smile a bit as he soothes your belly and speaks to it.

“You should be careful in there, little one. You are stronger than your mother, you might just hurt her.” Horus then soon tears himself away, and rises to his feet.

“I have other business to attend to; But please, don’t be afraid to ask the serfs for anything you need.”

Horus takes a brisk pace away, walking down the hall towards his own chambers. He doesn't make a single stop or even look in the direction of another soul, opening the massive door to his most private chambers. The door shuts behind him with a slam, and Horus lets out a breath now that he’s truly alone.

A part of him regrets agreeing to be the one to punish Lorgar; To take you from him and become the villain in this story. Another part of him is glad to, if not only to feel a part of his soul stir to life.

The buttons on the front of his trousers are easy to undo, and he can feel the outline of his own cock straining desperately against the fabric. It had irritated him the entire way here, no matter how hard he tried to ignore the way he ached against his thigh.

Once he manages to free himself, he takes a seat at the massive desk made custom for him and wraps a hand around his cock, feeling himself twitch against his palm at even the slightest touch. Precum leaks from the tip of his cock as he slides his hand against his shaft, groaning and using his other hand to grip the edge of the table.

You were so much more perfect than he imagined. Now he understands why Lorgar was so intent on keeping you hidden from them.

A selfish man, a shame he got to you first. Horus would make sure you got to see the world, meet all of his brothers and show them just how lucky he was. How beautiful and smart you were.

How you were so able to handle him, a primarch. Out of all of them, only Lorgar was the one to find love.

He can feel the the stickiness of his own precum leak on his fingers, slicking his cock. It's not enough though, and so he pulls his palm away to give an undignified, uncharacteristic spit into his palm before wrapping his hand back around his throbbing cock.

Lorgar! A selfish, whiny brat of a man who cares about paltry religions and gods rather than The Emperor's orders. How, out of all of them, was he the one to find someone that was able to handle being around a primarch?

His palm now slicker he groans at the way his hand much more smoothly rubs against his own shaft, toes curling his boots.

Horus isn’t jealous, he’s angry, he thinks. Angry that it turned out this way. If Lorgar hadn’t been a lying, secretive little snake, perhaps you would’ve had the chance to consider... better options. Horus would've been quick to charm you, to wow you with all the things he could give you and how he could make you feel.

He’s the Warmaster; he could give you anything you ever wanted, and you’d never be safer. On Colchis, he was able to pluck you from your beloved with one stern talking to.

Horus groans as his lower body tightens, cock leaking all over his hand. He's so close, he just needs a bit more.

Thankfully it was him to take you. Not someone like Russ, or Konrad.

Horus can keep you safe, until Lorgar does what needs to be done without all of these distractions. If you were his, it would be a wonder if he wasn’t always thinking about that perfect, round belly of yours.

He fists his cock faster with each second, grip tighter. He chases the high- his thighs tensed- so close. His breathing is heavier, deeper, harsh breathes through his nose.

He doubts Lorgar will ever fix his problems, however.

That would mean you would stay with him permanently; He would have no issues with that, he can make the preparations. For the short and the long term. You're surely due to have that child any day now, he'll make sure not a thing goes wrong.

Horus can hear the table top crack underneath his grip, the cords of his neck tight as he finally cums. He keeps pumping himself in his hand through it, milking himself until he's groaning and gritting his teeth. It's been so long, he's never felt the need for this until now. The feeling of satisfaction is unlike anything else, as he lets out a few breaths of air through his mouth.

He'll love his little niece or nephew like his own in the absence of Lorgar of course. They don't deserve to be punished for the sins of their father. But when you're fully healed, he would love nothing more than to on day fill that space with something of his own.

[wxnheart]

Amāre Divinitatus: "...His love endures forever."

He never worshipped for worship's sake.

There was always a reason, conviction at the forefront of his mind, and his many treatises, reverence made material, paled compared to the visions of splendor that blessed his mind.

Those visions of splendor... the many wonders of you...

Beautiful.

His worship, once of the Father, had shifted. His words, reverence made material, rejoiced in honor of these dreams. The love that filled his heart in the aftermath was all-consuming, powerful, and he wished, oh did he wish...

Ecstacy. His body hummed with it.

He did not know exactly when and did not know exactly where, but he knew his meeting with you was imminent. And as he prepared, so, too, did he worship. So, too, were his treatises filled with your praises, and he supposes a love like this would last forever.

When your paths finally crossed, those marvelous dreams did you no justice. You were divine, heaven-sent, and it brought him to his knees in supplication. He took your hands in his, bowed his head gracefully, and kissed them adoringly, agony and ecstasy piercing his heart.

He never worshipped for worship's sake, and here he was, entranced by the many wonders of you.

And his love would endure forever.

— Lorgar Aurelian.

[coolestork]

Of Mortal Grace and Divine Devotion.

Lorgar Aurelian x Reader

-

Lorgar Aurelian had long believed that his purpose was to exalt the divine. He was the voice of faith, the messenger of the gods, a vessel through which the sacred flowed. But now, as he watched you move through the halls of his flagship, something stirred within him that no god had ever inspired.

-

It began as a whisper, a fleeting thought he could easily dismiss. You were human—mortal, fragile, a being destined to wither in the span of an eye blink compared to his eternal existence. And yet, something in your presence unsettled him. Perhaps it was the grace in your step, the quiet dignity with which you carried out your duties, oblivious to the grand destinies unfolding around you. Or perhaps it was the way you spoke, your voice soft but unwavering, commanding his attention in a way no mortal had before.

Lorgar had seen thousands, no, millions of human souls pass through his gaze. He had spoken to emperors and beggars alike, his words shaping their beliefs, their futures. But none had lingered in his thoughts the way you did. None had made his heart quicken with this... unholy longing.

And unholy it was, of that he had no doubt. He, the bearer of divine truth, the prophet of the Word, was now ensnared by a mere human. Worse, he found himself glorifying you in secret. You became, in his mind, a creature of rare beauty, a being not of flesh but of divinity—perfect, sacred, untouchable. He told himself it was wrong. He was a primarch, a god among men, and you were... mortal. But the more he fought it, the more you grew in his mind, a figure of reverence, an icon to be venerated.

-

In the stillness of his private quarters, Lorgar would let his thoughts run free, untethered by reason. His hands, which had once penned scriptures and crafted holy symbols, now traced your form in the air, committing to memory every detail he had seen, every expression that had crossed your face. He began to weave his own scripture around you, though he never wrote it down. In the depths of his mind, you became something sacred, something he could worship in secret.

He knew it was madness, but madness had always walked alongside faith.

Every time you spoke to him, whether in passing or when reporting to him directly, he felt himself pulled deeper into his obsession. It was blasphemy to desire you so intensely, and yet he could not stop. Your words echoed in his thoughts long after you had left, and your image haunted him in the spaces between prayer. The gods, he told himself, had sent you to test him, to see if he could resist this temptation. But the more he thought of it, the more he twisted that idea into something else. Perhaps you were divine. Perhaps you had been sent to him not as a test, but as a revelation.

-

Could he—should he—court you? The idea gnawed at him, growing stronger with each passing day. The rational part of him screamed against it. He was Lorgar Aurelian, a primarch, an immortal, the chosen one of the gods. To desire a human was beneath him. And yet, the faith in him, the part that glorified the divine in all things, whispered that this too was part of his destiny.

And so, he began to contemplate the unimaginable. What if you were meant to be his? What if the gods had woven your paths together, intending for this moment? It made sense, in a way only faith could make sense. You had been placed under his command, working closely, moving through his life like a subtle grace, unnoticed until it became overwhelming.

It was absurd. It was perfect.

-

The day he finally approached you, Lorgar felt the weight of a thousand thoughts pressing down upon him. His mind, usually sharp with theological debates and philosophical ruminations, was now clouded with uncertainty. As he stood before you, towering in his golden armor, he found himself, for perhaps the first time, unsure. How does a god confess his desire to a mortal?

His words, when they came, were halting, awkward in a way that did not suit him. "I... have watched you. For a long time." His voice, though rich and deep, faltered slightly. "There is something about you... something that stirs in me a reverence, a devotion I cannot explain."

-

You stood there, eyes wide, your breath caught in your throat. This was Lorgar Aurelian, the prophet of the Word, the one who spoke for gods—and now, he spoke to you, of you.

"I feel... as though you were sent to me," he continued, his words growing heavier with each syllable. "By the gods themselves. There is something divine in you. I have fought against this feeling, this... obsession. But I can fight it no longer."

He looked at you then, his amber eyes searching yours, seeking understanding, seeking... forgiveness. "You are mortal, and I am not. Yet... I wish for you to be more than what you are to me now. I wish for you to be mine."

Your heart raced. For a moment, the words hung in the air, unreal. The man you had admired from afar, whose very presence had always felt like standing in the light of something eternal, was now laying bare his own adoration for you. It was too much to process. But then, you found your voice, though it was soft, trembling with disbelief.

"I... I have always admired you," you whispered, unable to meet his gaze fully. "Since I first came under your command... I never thought... that you might feel the same."

The surprise in your voice startled him. You had always admired him? Lorgar, who had feared that his affections were one-sided, felt his faith shift, a new truth revealing itself. The gods had not only blessed him with this feeling, but they had ordained it, weaving the two of you together in ways neither of you had foreseen.

He bowed his head, the gesture heavy with both reverence and humility. "Then... perhaps, we are both meant to worship what lies between us."

-

For the first time in millennia, Lorgar felt the stirrings of something beyond divine purpose. It was something fragile, something mortal. And yet, as he looked at you, he knew it was sacred all the same.

-

AGHHHHHHHGHHH, I LOVE THE IDEA OF LORGAR FKING BEIGN A TROUBLED RELIGIOUS SIMP

this is the first of many fics to come, I'm afraid.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Sin and Holy

Summary: Lorgar wants revenge on Guilliman, but ends up becoming obsessed with his lover, deifying her.

Lorgar Aurelian/fem!Reader (Roboute Guilliman/fem!Reader background)

Warnings: yandere, obsession, possessive behavior, kidnapping, religious kink, foot fetish, voyeurism

Author's note: Blame our mind worms of "lorgar foot worship plotline".

Word count: 2017

Song: Pet Shop Boys - It's a Sin

Everything I've ever done Everything I ever do Every place I've ever been Everywhere I'm going to It's a sin

The end of the perfect city marked the beginning of a new and better world. But not one world, city or even house is built in a short time. Everything requires time and human will. Lorgar Aurelian understood this while he was looking for answers to his questions.

And even with the acquisition of true faith in Chaos, he knew that victory would only come with time. He wouldn't be able to defeat the Emperor right away. Bring the gifts of the four gods to the Galaxy. Just like he won’t be able to get you right away.

You immediately caught his attention. Roboute Guilliman's personal remembrancer, whom he took with him everywhere. The sightless would say that the mortal girl is too talented. Envious people would laugh at the fact that the primarch of the Ultramarines turned arrogant. But Lorgar knew who you were. Chaos told him.

Lover of Roboute Guilliman. A secret that his brother kept from everyone. Even from the Emperor. If Lorgar had been quick to anger, he would have told the primarchs about you. Would separate two lonely souls. But he did not dare to do this. It wasn't time yet. But soon he would make his brother grieve and suffer. He would have destroyed what was dearest to his heart, as he did with the Monarchy.

“I read your poems,” you carefully strike up a conversation with the primarch, clasping your hands. Your look is innocent and full of sincere kindness. Not admiration or awe, no. You saw him. His soul. - “They are wonderful. In truth, your poems calmed me in hard times.”

You don't flatter or mock him. Lorgar doesn’t need to glance around the room to understand that you approached him yourself. Without Guilliman's knowledge. The bastard who dared to smile at Aurenlian when he was forced to kneel humiliatingly. Anger almost covers the man, but your embarrassed smile dispels the rage like wind blows away fog.

"Thank you." - The primarch smiles softly, fascinated by your gentle influence. “The next time we meet, I will bring you a new work that no one has seen yet. I'm sure it will change the entire Imperium."

Aurelian was above mortals, he was a primarch and the chosen one of Chaos. And yet he was wrong. He could never hurt you. Because he loved you. Stronger than Roboute. Tighter. More furious. Almost to the point of obsession, consuming his soul.

You were beautiful. Your smooth movements were like a soft wind, and your voice was like the whisper of leaves. A soft, gentle light emanated from your soul. Like a ray of sunshine on the water. Your kindness and sincerity of words were like music or scripture. How can he wish evil upon such a beautiful and divine being?

And how can someone not notice your beauty? Not to value and treat as if you are worth nothing? But his brother exceeded all expectations. Through the warp, Lorgar watched as Roboute spent time with you like ordinary mortals. You talked heart to heart, laughed and sometimes even argued. And on special evenings, the man would please you while you gave yourself to him without reserve.

Your body bent on the silk like a reed in the wind, your skin covered in hot sweat. You moaned muffledly, holding onto the headboard with force. Lorgar couldn’t take his eyes off the sight, absorbing your figure, desperately trying not to look at Guilliman’s head between your legs.

While you two indulged in sin, Aurelian, with the help of the forces of Chaos, watched over you. Insatiably and greedily, feeding the laughing Prince of Pleasure with his torments. It seemed to the man that he would make a sound as soon as you opened your mouth in a pre-orgasmic state... but the miracle ended when Guilliman decided to stop and looked at your irritated face with a smile.

“You did this again! I beg you, please, one day finish it!” - you giggle and throw a pillow at the primarch, unable to be angry with him for long. Roboute defends himself from the attack with his hand and shrugs. His eyes sparkle with merriment and his smile is self-confident.

“Can’t help it. I love teasing you too much.”

Roboute leans on you with his whole body, and you continue to laugh into his chest, hugging his warm body tightly. Not noticing Lorgar's bestial gaze, full of black rage. But he could do nothing but continue to watch as Guilliman began to enter your holy gates.

It wasn't enough! You deserved better. Real worship, not primitive sentimentality. And Lorgar was eager to show you this. Longed to touch. Inhale the smell of your hair, feel your sweat and tears on your tongue. Feel the warm skin under his palms. Hear quiet moans.

He wanted you to let him love you. Wanted you command him to praise you, deify you and worship you. And he wanted you to beg him for ascension until you both burned in the fire of desire.

But you don't. After all, you are a kind and beautiful girl, whose soul barely casts a shadow in the Immaterium. But bright as a ray of sunshine, which he want to touch. You are too innocent and pure to turn your attention to a primarch mired in the mud. And so he has to act on his own.

Horus's betrayal came like thunder from a clear sky. What a pity for Guilliman that it was at this time that you decided to visit your family and went to your home world on the ship of the Rogue Trader. Lorgar kindly provided you with protection, assuring you that you would be safe on Fidelitas Lex.

And it was true. You weren't in any danger. Lorgal had enough strength to protect and hide you from all the horrors of the Galaxy. And to his delight, he has enough time to spend time alone with you. This is still a relatively calm time for now. To know you. To feel. To open.

“I heard about what happened on Khur. - you stammer, your eyes turned to the floor, full of regret. - I'm sorry. It's horrible. What you went through and how the poor people suffered. Roba- Lord Guilliman did not want to do this, he was following orders.”

“Let what is past remain in the past. I hold no grudge against my father and brother. - the primarch whispered half-truths like an insidious snake. Still, he was grateful to the fall of the Monarchy for leading him to the real truth. - And I don’t want you to be sad. This is between me and Roboute. It has nothing to do with you.”

You look up at him and Lorgar can hardly contain a sigh of admiration. Surprisingly, you, unlike most mortals, were not amazed by his greatness. However, this had the opposite effect. It was Urizen who was amazed by you.

“You are very kind.” - you smile softly, like a mother, seeing the child’s face for the first time. - “Even in this dark time, I am grateful to meet you. I will never forget this moment.”

And although you may now shake with fear at the sight of the primarch and the Word Bearers, Lorgar knew that everything would change. He believed that you would rediscover your love for him. Unfortunately, he had to use... force after the Drop Site Massacre. You were not a prisoner, but you will still have to be kept locked up for some time. For your own good.

He can’t help but admire your beauty, your radiant soul. How you are in only a white nightgown (Lorgar got rid of all the clothes with Ultramarines colors) after walking around the room, run onto the red silk bed. How your pure image merges with sinful chambers.

The man smiles softly and approaches you, forcefully squeezing a basin of clean water in his hands. He has waited so long for this day when you can become his. When a primarch can touch the greatness of a mortal girl.

“Lorgar,” you say his name quietly, trying to calm him down. But the man just clenches his teeth, feeling like everything in his lower abdomen is filled with sinful lead. - “P-please, don’t do this. I’m sure Roboute will forgive you, you are brothers after all.”

You no longer call him Lord Guilliman. You're still in love with him. What a shame. It's making his teeth hurt. But Lorgar, with tenacity worthy of a primarch, continues to smile at you, kneeling. He doesn't want to scare you even more. You are tender and fragile, he must take care of your holiness.

“The floor is dirty, and you walk on it completely barefoot,” - he himself took the shoes from you. A sharp impulse that the primarch himself did not understand. - “Please, let me wash your beautiful feet with clean water.”

His voice gradually becomes lower from the dark secret desire and you, whining, sit down at the very edge, dangling your legs. And like a righteous soul, you try not to tremble or make sounds as the primarch lifts your skirt, all the way to your knees, which he kisses in turn.

Lorgar sighs heavily, fighting the temptation to lick your whole legs. But he still takes your foot and gently massages it in the water. Alas, this action only inflames the furious heat within him. Those little feet, dainty heels and tiny toes. An absolutely exquisite and elegant piece of art. He is so absorbed in what he is doing that he almost doesn’t hear your voice.

“Please let me go. F-For him, duty comes first. H-he will protect Terra.” - you sob from the way Lorgar squeezed your limb. - “Roboute will not look for me, Lorgar. He won’t.”

The world freezes and even the Immaterium trembles from the overabundance of the primarch’s feelings. How terrible agony and destructive rage gives way to peace. Calmness. By grace. And it's all because of you.

"Yes. He won't save you." - his gentle words, designed to calm you down, only make you more sad. And the primarch cannot help but admire your suffering as a righteous martyr. Which only plunges him deeper into sin. - “And this is his greatest mistake.”

Lorgar carefully brings your washed foot to his mouth and kisses the tip of your toe Before wrapping his mouth around it, sucking gently with moan. His mouth filled with saliva, and a shiver of excitement and awe ran through his body at the fact that he was able to touch you. To your wonderful feet that carried you through this mortal world. He was ready to kiss every piece of ground you walked on.

But instead, filled with your blessing, he gently kisses your foot, licking and biting. Every toe of yours, every vein line on your skin. Lorgar bites your ankle lightly and foreign blood seeps onto his tongue. Tastes like heaven.

The primarch looks up at you pleadingly, studying your face, wet with tears. Is this a vision of the future, a trick of the eye, or is your soul shining brighter than usual? He didn't know. But Lorgar was sure that he saw a halo above your head, which his brother stubbornly did not notice, treating you like an ordinary mortal woman. But Lorgar is different. He won't allow you to be treated like that.

He was and will be a sinner. He was always blamed for everything. But you gave him hope. And he will fully thank you for the healing that you brought to his soul. He will put you on a pedestal above the rest of the world. After all, this is exactly what you deserve. You just don't know yet.

The words fall from his bloodied lips so quietly that they are almost inaudible. But you hear. You can’t help but hear and you cry, choking with tears. Praying for help from all the saints from the books you have read, denying that you became one of them for the primarch who kidnapped you.

“Let me worship you.”

[lxvvie]

Being in a relationship with Lorgar Aurelian would consist of:

Your relationship being the embodiment of Dating What Daddy (Kor Phaeron) Hates.

Learning to ignore Kor Phaeron's increasing frustration with Lorgar's refusal to leave you be. Erebus on the other hand finds this development amusing.

Lorgar initially admiring you from afar; interestingly enough, it took some time for him to approach you but when he did, it was a fast track into a relationship.

Having a very demonstrative lover in your Primarch. Especially when it comes to physical affection.

Lorgar practically worshipping you, especially because you aren't critical in the way his father and brothers are, which translates into...

Him sharing the drafts of his writings with you.

The Word Bearers venerating you just the same. Depending.

Letting Lorgar ruminate and philosophize freely in your presence. Depending on the topic, you may or may not contribute but the simple fact that he can do so without restraint endears you to him greatly.

Lorgar's very... sonorous voice putting you at ease. Or sleep. Or making you flustered. Or all three and some more. Lorgar, knowing that you find his voice so pleasing, puts this to good use.

When it comes to matters of the... physical nature, two words: corruption kink. From both sides. Lorgar is a very vocal, very cunning linguist in more ways than one.

Just like Sanguinius is protective of his significant other, so, too is Lorgar when it comes to you. You're not a secret per se but he would much rather you not be around his... extended family. Much. For a plethora of reasons. This is his way of preserving the sanctity of you two's relationship.

[2lim3rz]

Imagine being from a world in Warhammer 30k which was sort of like Lorgars world where they worshipped the Chaos gods, but instead of worshipping them the Reader and their clan instead have honed and perfected the art of summoning and subjugating the various types of Chaos daemons. Like to the point where Nurgle daemons are used to improve fertility in cattle/crops, Khorne daemons are used as guard/attack dogs, and so on. How would the Primarchs/Big E react to their s/o being capable of this?

This definitely fits with my sorta view that.. I mean, Chaos does have its inevitable place in the world. And it has been established that with the whole belief system, there are minor 'gods' that sort of exist. But Chaos is a culmination of everything (and it happens in grimdark dystopia that it all sucks)

But we have been shown good sides of Chaos (or at least told OF them). With Slaanesh's pleasure (and pain does have its place in the world) [with Steeds being a good example because.. I mean they don't really actively do anything malicious, they're just curious titty raptors that like to vibe]; Khorne's honor (and bloodshed, because he IS the Warrior god) [and most things I see of Khorne are low-key pretty mechanical as well]; Tzeentch is ambition and psychic powers (both of which are important in the society of 30/30k and general life); and Nurgle's mortality (as well as disease having its place) [as well as rot and decay i.e mushrooms having its belonging in the food chain]

I'd imagine there's an UNDIVIDED tribe/settlement (going with tribe in assuming this is also a nomadic world similar to Colchis) as well as a tribe corresponding to each separate god (I can elaborate more but tl:dr: the khornate god takes in exiles/willing followers and uphold the Dedications of the Blood in which they attack the other tribes while dressing themselves similar to the daemons this also aids [unintentionally] in keeping the population down)

In saying this, I'd probably say it'd function closer to this: Nurgle - Sacrificial uses are plant based and generally the end of a life (i.e composition n such) while not many of his daemons are used, he's certainly revered enough

Slaanesh - The arts generally, but daemons are used to aid in performances or even arcetecture however you spell it lmao. No sacrifices so much as dedications and performances

Khorne - Sacrifices and Dedications. Honor aspect is leaning towards upholding laws.. in a sense. Laws being more eye-for-an-eye in this case. Daemons are used to aid in combat and transportation

Tzeentch - Lowkey.. a lot of things sort of goes with Tzeentch. Daemons are very versatile with this one. Sometimes takes sacrifices, sometimes dedications. Very unsure?

Note: Just Leman, Magnus,and Lorgar this go around cause I just had ideas for them and for simplicity's sake, the planet is called.. Let's call it Asybor (a-SIGH-boar)

Your world.. was one of peace. Similar to many worlds and yet.. oh was it so different. For the taint of the warp was upon it, so they said.

You were a Fraslen; a Sky Speaker. Runes were both carved and tattooed into your body.. yet they were artful and done with precision. A curling ball of flame upon your head, a horned triangle of sorts upon your breast alongside three loops with three coiled arrows and upon your back was a circle with a semicircle arrow split in half with another semicircle. These were only the largest however.. All of them curling into each other like beautiful holding hands.

You were nearly barren of clothes this time of year. Loose transparent cloths floated akin to ghosts on your body, with golden sandals protecting the soles of your feet across the hard ground.

You heard it; the songs, the cheers.

You saw it; the blaze of piercing light in the air, the sight of something falling into your planet.

You felt it; as if you were dipped into one of the warming rivers in the northern passes, a feeling washing over your mind.

Something was there..

LEMAN RUSS

It's the great crusade and.. admittedly even this planet was a bit out of his reach. Yet something told him that he needed to be here. It had to be seen. It was a yet to be conquered planet and scans deemed it to be.. suspiciously empty. There were readings of some animals but little else.. and upon a planet so green and clearly rich with life? It was off.

Until he and his ship of Space Wolves landed. Of course, all you knew was that you had to welcome this.. whatever it was. And at first your eyes and your mind were at war with each other. In fact, you had fallen to your knees the moment you beheld the men in strange armors.. their height rivalled the Kortons, their regality was unmatched to those of the Slaniths.

They had surprise as well. Scans showed nothing of human presence; yet here one was.. bearing symbols that made the mind ache.. the soul wander dangerously. Leman Russ.. was having none of it

But.. he was curious. And Curiosity was a dangerous thing. Being the closest thing to the planet's ambassador, you would lead them. And gladly tell them of everything. Why should anything be secret to your brothers of the stars?

You were greeted with skepticism, when you had shown them the elegantly made tents of the Cliff Treaders with their mounts of great winged beasts, they were astounded. Even more shocked when the burden-beasts could even carry one of the warriors upon its back

Yet the Giant one, the Wolf as he called himself was wary.. if not interested in what you had to show. What dangers there were. The only threat upon them was a foolish pack of Kortons that had challenged them. It was a joyous moment to discover how similar aspects of your cultures were: myths, foods, the nomadic traveling of your natures, the worship of nature with respect and wary fear.

You spent most of your time with the Great Wolf; the Star Hunter, Leman Russ..

Enough to gift him with a hand painted figure upon a sky-stone. A gleaming figure of him with painfully bartered paints from the Slaniths. The gifts of Fraslens were extremely few since they had to be Neutral in most things. Especially upon a stone only taken from upon one of the Pilgrimages

There was pain in his eyes when he accepted it

And you couldn't fathom why as he turned his back upon you. Not knowing just how you and your planet's entire precious culture would have to be disintegrated, less they faced His wrath.

MAGNUS THE RED

The primarch that had arrived.. stole your breath away. Where in Leman's case, you were overwhelmed by the presence of such withheld ferocity and the appearance of primality contained.. with Magnus it is conflicting. Massive and regal, but at the same time something was innately Off about him. His soldiers were of similar..

Yet unlike the other primarchs (with exception to perhaps Konrad or Perturabo), with Magnus you felt.. as if there was a chance.

Magnus, and many of the Thousand Sons no doubt (tell me if this is wrong because I am not a Magnus expert) is a scholar. The usage of the.. Warp in natural day-to-day life was astounding! It was..

It was similar to his home. The feeling of.. magic everywhere. Permeating the very soils of the ground itself. Even if he had to get used to the fact that his first meeting with the inhabitants was.. very nude

You lead him everywhere you could, equally fascinated by the technologies he brought with him. He took great interest in the song-tales of the Slaniths, and the story-weavers of the Za'leech.

He was even more interested in the patterns across your body. Struggling to ignore the way that his staring eye made you want to shiver and hide yourself in the most curious of ways. Interested in how each rune, each symbol and picture.. was a testament of your trials and story. Everything from your birth to your current time was put upon you in excruciating detail

Fraslens held no secrets of who they were

So he was stunned when you offered yourself to be an 'Ambassador' of your people. You had already done so much, translating his alien words to your people (with the help of other called-upon Fraslens and exception to the Slaniths and Za'leech who seemed to already Know his words just as much as you did)

You would leave your planet? Abandon everything to represent your people?

It hurt Magnus. It tore him in two. He needed to bring this planet into compliance. To record it but- To do that would shred everything apart.. everything was so harmonious and.. why it was..

All planets took compliance differently. Some peaceful, some not. Some by force and some by underhanded means and.. Why did this world make him so hesitant? Was it the feeling of a home away from home?

Either way. It was a difficult choice. And one had to be made.

LORGAR AURELIAN

It was not the massive deserts of home, nor was it Khur but.. it was a beauty in its own right. Sprawling greenery stretched out before him, segregated by rings of mountains as though many hands eons ago had carved many bowls into its surface

You were the first to greet him.. and he was stunned perhaps just as much as you were. It wasn't every day that someone walked around naked and he had gotten used to the different culture of the Imperium.

Lorgar was silent through the first time he was lead about. Marching with ginger steps with Kor Phaeron and Erebus as you spoke. Multiple times he had to silence his compatriots.. well just Kor Phaeron. Erebus was silent. Lurking. Leering.. planning. His son was always.. off

You were showing him the peaceful and the wrathful. Explaining it all. The Kortons upon their metal-backed land beasts as they ravaged a splinter group that had sought to sow chaos upon the lands. Slanith performances in the evenings and celebrating.. everything; from the births of life, to even just the rains that the Four had blessed them with. The Norngat with their meanderings ponderous ways. Slow; displaying the dedications to caring for the land and unchanging will of nature. The Za'leech, with their mystery and intrigue cause of it. Sparkling the sky with elaborate displaces of wonderous images or serving as the wise soothsayers

Everything was a fascination to Lorgar. No blade of grass was left unexplained

Even if your time was unknowingly threatened to be cut short.. this.. this peace..

It couldn't be had.

It couldn't last.

Not if he could help it. Yet.. No.. he could always turn this further against the Emperor. To sate the lust his Gods had to ruin the formidable Enemy.

After all... is Chaos.. is the warp really so bad if humanity could so clearly live peacefully beside it? Isn't this what Lorgar and the Cult preached?

[libraryshadow]

One word Drooling

The Annunciation

WARNING: VERY HEREICAL

Yes, the reader is pregnant.

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarch names from least moanable to the most moanable - entirely subjective.

Factors taken into account:

Name length

How easy it is to say

General vibes ('imagine having sex with a guy and having to moan gilbert')

I wrote this instead of sleeping. I don't know either. This is getting posted and I will probably never address it again if I don't delete it during my break tomorrow. I should not be given internet access past 11pm.

Perturabo

It pained me to put him all the way down (up?) here at the least moanable as I fear he may actually be one of my favourites, however... I am not delusional enough to ignore that not only is this a pretty long name, a good amount of people struggle not only to say it but to even spell it. Not at all dyslexia friendly. I would give it a good go but I feel like in order to enjoy yourself you kind of have to accept you will be calling him 'Perty' or 'Bo' or whatever you prefer.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius fans please spare me but this is a long ass name at 3? 4? syllables. I don't even know what you could call him for short instead. However, I don't doubt that it's entirely possible, I just think it would take a while to stop stuttering through.

Mortarion

Another long name. Are you sensing a pattern yet? I am. More moanable due to having less vowels than Sanguinius and less harsher (?) consonants like in Perturabo. Pretty middle of the road, easy to pronounce, could probably be easier if you just start calling him 'Morty' instead.

Alpharius / Omegon

Alpharius is again another longer name that I feel like I would trip over for a good couple weeks. I am NOT shorting it to Alpha. I must maintain my dignity, whatever crumbs of it remain. Omegon is an easier name - likely due to it having less syllables (3 rather than 4). However, I feel like the only way to shorten it would be 'Meg' and that would make me laugh and I would get distracted. Remember how I said this is subjective? This is why.

Jaghatai

3 syllables, easy enough to say, not a lot of vowels or harsher consonants to trip over. Incredibly doable, and I'm sure many have tried it. Hell, I'd certainly take a good stab at it.

Angron

Harsh G right in the middle, otherwise no complaints really. 2 syllables. Straight forward. You could certainly give it a good go.

Rogal

2 syllables - easy right? Wrong. Evil G right there in the middle again. Probably would have been higher (lower?) on the list if it was softened with maybe an H right after. Alas, it is not so.

Corvus

2 incredibly easy syllables. The V is a little evil (harsh) but with a relatively short name and a soft starting consonant I'm sure it's manageable. Best bird boy. Not much else to say.

Fulgrim

Although apparently a good chunk of people have given it a go - or at least his wives have - we're back to the G dilemma. Personally I'd suggest calling him 'Fulgie' - like Fergie but worse.

Konrad

Quite possibly the most normal name on the whole list. Konrad. Everyone can say Konrad. An easy two syllables with the harshest letter right at the start. Easy peasy.

Roboute

I actually don't know if this is 2 syllables or 3. I even went and looked on Reddit. Some people are saying Ro-Bou-Te, I've been reading it Ro-Boot. Either way these are easy, with the harshest sound being the T of all things. Either way I don't think moaning for poor long suffering Robert is too tricky.

Vulkan

Deceptively soft V and K. What a pleasant surprise. Anyone could moan this easily, and he'd probably be delighted.

Lion

Objectively this is incredibly easy, which is why it made it so high (low?) on the scale. However, I would argue moaning 'Lion' in full sincerity is somewhat hilarious. That sure is the name of an incredibly powerful (and unfortunately incredibly sexy) man.

Magnus

Easy to moan. Probably wouldn't mind if you gave it a go. Again, one of the easier names. I'm sure he'd be happy to tutor you on the subject.

Lorgar

Flows nicely, 2 short syllables, incredibly straight forward. Started mentally calling him 'Lorgie', never recovered.

Ferrus

Incredibly straight forward name. Ferrus, pronounced the same as Ferrous, like the iron tablets. Something something you should do it, it's medicinal.

Leman

Not at the top due to the time it took to decide whether it was Lee-man or Le-man (like lemon). Personal gripe, but if you've gotten this far down without understanding that I don't know what to tell you. Quick, easy, sure why not.

Horus

As much as I wish to be deeply spiteful and shove him somewhere unremarkable in the middle, I just can't do it. This is an easy name. Don't worry, if you struggle at all I'm sure he'd be willing to let you keep trying until you figure it out. Bastard.

[tanknode]

Lorgar and his *adorations* :)

[moodymisty]

𝕲𝖔𝖉𝖉𝖊𝖘𝖘; 𝕮𝖍𝖆𝖎𝖓𝖊𝖉

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Part 1 of ?

Author's note: Part 1! Realistically it'll probably be 3 parts, but it might be 4 depending on how my writing goes. This is all just boring plot, sorry i have to excuse my smut with gratuitous plot buildup.

Summary: During the Razing of Monarchia, The Emperor decides to take something of Lorgar's that will persuade him back to compliance; Though he doesn't leave the goddess of Colchis unmarked.

Relationships: Lorgar/Fem!Reader, nonconsensual/onesided Emperor/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Noncon/dubcon, Mind fuckery, Kidnapping, Abuse,

Monarchia burns.

Smoke billows into massive clouds that cover the skyline like a catastrophic storm, the sun being obscured. The battlefield is darkened over like it's about to rain, but the fighting is all but over.

Guilliman speaks to one of his captains, coordinating the conclusion and retrieval of all of his men when his eyes pull away from the Ultramarine.

The Emperor approaches. His golden armor shines opulently even in the darkness of the smoke choked sky.

He is flanked by two custodes, of which sport the ornate golden armor denoting the meticulousness of their creation.

The Emperor had only recently arrived, the battle having long since been concluded and Malcador having already spoken to Lorgar in length. Upon a degradation of those talks did the Emperor make an appearance, and Guilliman wonders if those talks bore any fruit. He didn't see the point in them, now that Monarchia was in flames.

Though hasn't seen Lorgar since, and Guilliman can only assume he more than likely never will. The blow that Guilliman has dealt to him with never be repaired. What little relationship they had is ash.

But what- who - The Emperor approaches with besides his custodes, is far more confusing.

One of those custodians holds by the arm a woman, you, barely able to keep on your feet. You seem tired, barely able to stand. It's like he's dragging you along. You only manage to right yourself once the Emperor and his retinue stop walking, and you let out a cough; Ragged and tired. He sees ash staining your skin on your hands and cheeks.

You look up towards him briefly for a moment, eyes red, and he looks back while glancing over your form.

The ornate clothing, the delicate jewelry...

Guilliman had heard through the others that Lorgar had taken a lover. But he had heard little more of it than that; He didn't need to. Guilliman kept his interactions with Lorgar brief, and strictly business. He had no desire to listen to Lorgar's ramblings- unlike Sanguinius, who found it all amusing.

You know he calls her his little goddess, right? The two seem like they're made for each other. Perhaps we should meet her one day, she seems interesting.

Your clothes are singed at the edges, the ornate trimming and delicate fabric seared and destroyed from walking through the hot ash and embers of your home.

Perhaps Guilliman shouldn't care. He knows the Emperor doesn't. But he feels something in him at that moment, though he simply buries it down.

They are doing as the Emperor orders, and they know this needed to be done. Lorgar needed to be taught a lesson, and his legion was simply the tool to do so.

"I see you are already beginning to depart."

The Emperor takes only a brief glances to the area filled with landed Ultramarine ships, before looking back.

"Yes. We will be gone within next few hours." Guilliman looks down at you again for a moment, and notices how you seem almost, absent.

"What do you plan to do with her?"

Guilliman says, trying to word it in a way that shows mere curiosity rather than suspicious prying. The implication that he already knows who you are obvious.

The Emperor looks towards the custode holding your arm, and a few moments later that custode begins to take you away. You get towed towards the ship that The Emperor had arrived in, and disappear into it as they continue speaking.

Guilliman's eyes follow for awhile, his men's as well, but they all leave return to the Emperor when he speaks again.

"When a child misbehaves, you take away their toys until they learn."

Emperor looks directly at Guilliman.

"When Lorgar rights himself and his legion, I will return her to him."

He wonders what words had been exchanged; Lorgar would never give you up willingly from the what he has heard, you more than likely had to be torn from his arms. It would explain the torn clothes, the tears in your eyes.

Guilliman isn't much of a fan of the idea. But Lorgar needs to be taught a lesson, to stop this nonsense of religion and worship, and Guilliman won't resist the Emperor's plans.

He takes one more glance at the massive golden custodes ship that is warming up it's engines, preparing to leave the wreckage of Colchis behind. Guilliman clears his throat.

"Very well."

The Emperor gives nary a farewell, and turns on his right boot to walk towards where his custodes had trod previously. Guilliman and his Ultramarines stay however, his men chattering in the distance to continue their extraction. They have men and machinery to count for.

"You seem unsure of something, my Lord."

Thiel approaches his commander with his bolter slung comfortably in his arms. Guilliman looks to him briefly.

Was he unsure? He has doubted the Emperor before, but those brief thoughts were kept firmly to himself. The Emperor has knowledge even he does not he's sure, questioning him isn't his place to tread.

"Not unsure, Sargent. Just thinking." Thiel hums and adjusts his grip on his weaponry.

"Is it about that woman? Who was she?" The marine probably wonders what baseline human is worth enough to be toted by custodes, Guilliman imagines. He won't disagree that it was an odd scene.

"That was Lorgar's wife."

Thiel doesn't hide the furrowed brow of confusion on his face. Not many had even considered the possibility of any of the primarchs marrying, even far less knew one actually had.

Lorgar had defied odds it seems, though it only seemed to cripple him in the end.

"The Emperor has taken her to Terra until Lorgar corrects his legion's path, it seems." Thiel looks towards the custodes fleet as it rises up into the sky and departs, leaving the Ultramarines alone on this hot, sandy planet.

"And do you think that's a good idea?" Guilliman ponders the man's question for a bit longer than he thought he would.

Would it actually motivate Lorgar to abandon all of this nonsense? To return to the Crusade rather than fooling around with the worship of gods and deities? Guilliman doesn't quite know. He doesn't know Lorgar well enough to have the answer.

"I guess we will see."

Guilliman swears he hears screaming in the distance, but chocks it up to the whipping of the wind against crumbling stone and turns to leave.

[ms--lobotomy]

Maybe you celebrate Easter. Maybe you celebrate Trans Day of Visibility. Maybe you celebrate both, or neither. I am here to make those holidays infinitely worse or better, depending on how you look at this post. Special thanks to @squishyowl for giving me the parameters to calculate their (hard) schmeat sizes.

Without further adieu, Primarch cock descriptions. and also kind of how they fugg

LION EL'JONSON- 11 inches, 27 cm. Untrimmed and uncut. He shows a godly amount of restraint to you. Behind closed doors, he's much softer than he lets on. As far as girth goes, he's in the middle of the road... for a Primarch. He may not be the most experienced of his brothers, but he's going to do a thorough job anyways.

???- Dick fell off.

FULGRIM- 10 inches, 25 cm. Long and slender. You may expect a piercing, but he does not want to mar his natural appearance (at least before the Heresy.) Shaves religiously. He likes when his partner can't move, when they squirm underneath him, though he'll have a hard time admitting this.

PERTURABO- 7 inches, 18 cm. The smallest cock on the list, but he more than makes up for it while he is using it. He's got a bit of girth to him, but he can still fit in your mouth. Somewhat. His hands engulf your head as he pushes you down on him. Once he's out, tell him how good he feels.

JAGHATAI KHAN- 13 inches, 33 cm. The fastest one out of the Primarchs as far as each thrust goes. It curves up when erect, not unlike a scimitar. Veiny, but not strikingly so. Even though he's exceptionally fast, he likes being ridden. Especially on his bike.

LEMAN RUSS- 14 inches, 35 cm. He's uncut and hairy down there, he's never shaved his bush. He's also girthy. But what's most remarkable about him is his knot. This makes it hard for him not to breed his partners, where applicable. He'll hold you down and lock himself in on you, holding you down on him with his massive hands.

ROGAL DORN- 10 inches, 25 cm. He's circumcised and he keeps a clean shave. He's girthy, but not unbearably so. He enjoys tying up his partner and watching them melt as he goes down on them. Ever stoic, his expression rarely changes as he plows through you. Also a fan of doing it in his office.

KONRAD CURZE- 9 inches, 23 cm. Veiny, almost paper white, and uncut. He's not a gentle lover, especially considering his size. Usually there will be blood involved, and usually it is yours. He doesn't normally just use his cock; if he can reach you, he'll be biting you. And if not, he'll draw blood anyways.

SANGUINIUS- 8 inches, 20 cm. Surprisingly girthy, with low-hanging balls. He's uncut, but his bush is usually trimmed. He doesn't just use his cock, he bites where he can and envelopes you in his wings. He's gentle... for the first five minutes. He'll leave the most marks out of any of the Primarchs, prompting you to cover up the day after.

FERRUS MANUS- 17 inches, 43 cm. Lord have mercy. He is the most well-endowed Primarch, with balls to match. He'll hold you down with his cool silver hands as he pushes himself in. He's gentle, far more than he lets on, but he is still a Primarch. He's become quite the aftercare giver.

???- Penis serious, Penis delirious. Penis in the woods, call that penis mysterious

ANGRON- 9 inches, 23 cm. The arena had not been kind, as he is scarred in several places around it. Fortunately, no blade has ever found its way there. He isn't gentle, not one bit, even if he is chained down. The Nails eat at his head, screaming for bloodshed. He thrusts faster in a vain attempt to block out the agony in his head.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- 8 inches, 20 cm, and girthy. Despite his size being closer to normal for a baseline human, it's harder to fit it in due to his circumference. With some lube and determination, though, you can make it work. He likes putting it in you and watching you try to keep your composure before you inevitably slip up.

MORTARION- 11 inches, 27 cm. It's long and gaunt on him, but it's still massive in your hand. He's one of the more sensitive Primarchs, but he'd prefer if that fact were kept under wraps. Gentle touch gets him going like nothing else. And once he gets going, you'll get to bear firsthand witness to the endurance he's known for.

MAGNUS THE RED- The bastard can change his dick size on a whim. He already knows what size would make you feel best, and he can open up more than one hole at once using the Warp. He doesn't even have to touch you to open you up, turning you into an incomprehensible mess in front of him.

HORUS LUPERCAL- 12 inches, 30 cm. The most striking thing about it is the Prince Albert that adorns it, a simple iron thing with a dull shine. Even if by some miracle you're on top, he'll always be the dominant partner, and if you have the ability you are most definitely bearing his children at some point.

LORGAR AURELIAN- 11 inches, 28 cm. You weren't expecting the second shortest Primarch to pack so much, were you? Golden tattoos come close to it, but he hadn't the will to cover himself there. You'll spend a lot of time with him; he'll use his tongue for hours on end before finally gratifying himself.

VULKAN- 10 inches, 26 cm. He's warm all over, and below the belt is no exception. In the cold reaches of space, he's a great comfort. Even if he's not the biggest of the Primarchs, he likes watching you struggle on him. He's girthy, and he likes to choke you with it too. Gives the best aftercare.

CORVUS CORAX- 11 inches, 27 cm. He's long, slender, and he keeps a close shave. He's a gentle lover when you're properly going at it and not hiding your risque behavior while in public. He'll hold your hands and whisper praises into your ear, even if he has to bend himself at an uncomfortable angle.

ALPHARIUS- 8 inches, 21 cm. He's hairless, circumcised, and his balls are almost unnaturally even. You've seen many an Alpha Legion cock, and they all look similar. He likes to finish in his partner, leaving no trace that he was there except for the slightly odd hobble you have the next day.

[coolestork]

Of Rituals and Yearning

Lorgar x Reader

Note: Another Lorgar fic for the religiously traumatized girlies. No NSFW this time either, just flaying and inner dialogue from the primarch. Enjoy :)

Warnings: Heavy Religious themes, Pain as corporal ritual, Implied sexual desires.

-

The sanctum was dim, lit only by the pale flicker of candles casting shadows that danced along the cold stone walls. The air was thick with incense, sweet and heavy, its scent mingling with the earthy musk of old parchment and ancient tomes that lined the walls. It was here, in this solemn, secluded space, that the ritual would unfold, one that demanded silence, discipline, and an unbreakable resolve. Lorgar could feel the weight of its purpose as if it was woven into the very stone beneath his feet.

He studied her—a human girl, kneeling before him with an awe that struck him somewhere deep, more than he would have dared to admit. There was a reverence in her gaze that was almost painfully beautiful, and it awakened a conflict within him, a duality that threatened to unravel the sanctity of the moment. But he forced himself to keep his expression neutral, withholding anything that might betray the tumult stirring within.

She bowed her head, her frame dwarfed by the towering figure before her. The holy connection they would establish tonight was not to be trivialized, nor diluted by worldly desires. Lorgar reminded himself of that again, silently reciting words he had memorized from long hours of meditation.

Still, he found his gaze lingering on her fragile form, on the curve of her neck, the softness of her hands clasped tightly in an effort to still their trembling. She had chosen this path willingly, he reminded himself. It was her faith, her devotion, that brought her here to endure.

“Are you prepared?” His voice was low, carrying a resonance that seemed to echo within the hollow chamber.

“Yes, my lord,” she whispered, a tremor in her voice that betrayed fear and determination alike. The duality of it resonated with his own internal struggle, intensifying the strange pull he felt towards her.

With a measured hand, Lorgar raised the thin leather cord, a tool not meant for pain, but for purification. He knew he would need to be cautious, painfully so, his strength barely restrained as he let the whip land across her shoulder with a lightness that belied his power. And yet, even that slight touch was enough to make her flinch, a quiet gasp escaping her lips.

The sound sent a ripple through him, tightening something within his chest. He focused on his breathing, willing his mind to remain clear, but the quiet sob that followed forced his eyes to her again, drawn by the shimmer of a tear slipping down her cheek. She was crying—enduring what little pain he had inflicted with a faith that only added to her fragile beauty. There was purity in her suffering, something that both honored and unsettled him. It was the vulnerability he was witnessing, the rawness of her devotion, that made her seem almost too delicate to bear.

The whip fell again, even gentler this time, but she gasped once more, tears tracing new paths down her cheeks. He was meant to find beauty in this, to see it as her sacrifice, her offering to the divine. And he did, yet there was something else—a flicker of attraction, dangerous and alluring in all its wrongness. This wasn’t what the ritual demanded of him; it wasn’t what his purpose dictated. Still, the way her eyes lifted to meet his, the silent plea in their depths…

Is this wrong? The thought struck him like an iron bolt, harsh and undeniable, cutting through his disciplined resolve. His jaw tightened as his mind recoiled, battling against the intensity of his reaction. Anger flared within him—not at her, no. The fault was his own, his weakness a willing betrayal of the ritual’s sacred intent, an affront to the spiritual purity that was supposed to guide him. He was a Primarch, a being molded by divine hands, chosen to uphold purpose and honor. How, then, had he allowed himself to stumble, to let the basest of desires cloud his vision?

The whip dangled loosely from his fingers as he wrestled with the surge of emotions twisting inside him. It should have been easy—simple, in fact. This ritual had been performed countless times by disciples of his Word, a purification through submission, pain as a bridge to the divine. He knew that. Yet, in this moment, he felt like a trespasser, as if he were betraying not only his purpose but her as well. She deserved a leader, a guide, not a man whose thoughts were tainted by something as trivial as lust.

He gathered himself. When the whip came down again, the touch so slight it was barely more than a whisper, and he watched her shoulders shudder, her lips parting in a soft cry that lingered in the air between them. It was pain, yes, but it was hers, a voluntary gift in her quest for something transcendent, something that connected her to his divine purpose. He respected that, and it was perhaps this respect that drove him to continue, to press forward, even as he questioned his own heart.

“Why do you look at me that way?” The question escaped him unbidden, a whisper that betrayed the uncertainty he had so often buried. He hadn’t meant to ask it, hadn’t meant to even let the thought cross his mind. His voice, usually steady and unshaken, faltered.

Her lips parted, though no words came, only a soft breath that left a fragile silence between them. Her eyes shimmered with a mixture of reverence and vulnerability, as if she were seeing beyond the warrior, beyond the Primarch. It was a gaze that unnerved him more than any blade, one that challenged him to confront the man within the mantle he wore.

With renewed force, he forced his gaze back to the ritual, to the rigid purpose he had clung to for so long. Lorgar tightened his grip on the whip, drawing his breath in slow, measured lengths, as if doing so could extinguish the conflict raging inside him.

He could feel it, sharp and undeniable, like a crack splintering across a once-impervious shield. The question remained, coiled in his chest—a slow, searing burn.

Is this wrong?

-

Note: Hell yea, I love me when fine shyt is heavily conflicted by the undercurrent of desire. let me know what u weirdos think

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Resistance (Roboute Guilliman, Lorgar)

Summary: Roboute doesn't want to let you go, but he does it… not suspecting that you will end up in the hands of a monster.

Roboute Guilliman/fem!Reader, Lorgar/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession

Word count: 1192

Song: Muse - Resistance

Roboute turned out cute. It is a pleasure to prescribe him, but very sad. However, Lorgar… oh my ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°) 

Roboute immediately singled you out from all the remembrancers. Not for your talent or ability to hold yourself. Not for your courage and especially your beauty. Everything was much simpler. Guilliman remembered how he got bored at one of the official events and began to look around the room. Everyone was engrossed in conversation and art, except for you.

You looked directly at the primarch. Stared openly. The primarch was already ready to prepare for you to approach him. You would try to start a diplomatic conversation or ask to serve him. Or you'll talk endlessly about how great he is. But instead you...

Show your tongue. You made a face.

Roboute couldn't help himself but choke on laughter, barely holding back so as not to attract attention to himself. You just smiled with satisfaction, looking at this picture. And turned away. You continued the conversation with the chronicler.

Guilliman himself sought a meeting with you.

“Your face brightened up my evening. And yet I have to ask why you-” - Roboute hesitated, not knowing how to describe your outburst. The event had already ended and it was deep night. But still he managed to find you in the corridor and be alone with you.

“You looked so sad. I wanted to somehow cheer you up.” - you shrug your shoulders easily as if nothing special had happened. As if you were not standing now with the primarch of the Ultramarines, the son of the Emperor, but with... an ordinary person.

You talked for a long time that evening. And in the following days. Guilliman didn't think he would admit it to himself, but he was fascinated by you. Tarasha would probably be delighted. He immediately remembered how his mother selected brides for him on Macragge even before he met the Emperor. But not a single meeting went well. But you were the exception.

After some time, Roboute invited you aboard his spaceship in hopes of spending more time with you. He had finally found you, no wonder he didn’t want to let you go. But you did not smile at his invitation like other remebrancers. You didn't joke in your style that you would find time for Guilliman in your schedule.

You frowned apologetically.

“Lorgar Aurelian has already invited me. He liked my knowledge of history. So I agreed. This was before I met you. I'm embarrassed to refuse your brother, it would be wrong. And then-"

"I see." - Roboute interrupted you gently. He nodded and you felt relieved from this conversation. - "Everything is fine."

No. Nothing was fine. He wanted to be with you, he wanted you. You so unexpectedly and rapidly burst into his life, colored his existence and reminded him of his humanity. And now you're slipping away. And of all the brothers, of all the primarchs, it was to Lorgar.

Roboute did not like Aurelian. He was weak. All his campaigns were ineffective and he was astonishingly slow to annex worlds to the Imperium. Not to mention the fact that he created conditions for them that suited him, and not the Emperor. His ideal cities were imbued with religiosity. Fanaticism. Old traditions that had to go.

Guilliman did not want to bring down his father's wrath on the inhabitants of the Monarchy. But an order is an order. He was not pleased to see his brother on his knees. But it was his duty. A modicum of pity for Lorgar filled Guilliman's hearts, but it was not enough to make him love his brother. Who now sought to indulge all his father’s words than before.

And still he was not happy. He wanted you to be with him. But the only thing worse than envy was a feeling vaguely reminiscent of fear. Warning. Roboute felt that if you set foot on Lorgar's ship, he would never see you again... but he did not believe in premonitions. And with pain in his hearts, he lets you go.

And his hatred hostility towards Lorgar will only grow stronger.

***

You were almost a goddess to him. He valued remembrances and yet he immediately noticed you. How you spoke with interest about the religion of the ancient peoples of Terra. With what zeal you explained old traditions to yourinterlocutors. They all listened to you with bated breath. You could be a great diplomat with such oratory skills.

But as you later told him, you were more interested in history than real politics. Power over other people's lives was not close to you. Lorgar felt his hearts flutter and his breathing quicken. They saw a different role in you, but you chose a different fate. He was not a warrior either, he was a priest... only he could not refuse the Emperor.

For now.

You were strong in spirit. In your opinion, you were strange. But Aurelian knew you were special. You didn't cry or faint next to the primarch. Didn't feel inspired or awed by his presence. No, you looked straight into his eyes and talked about human existence. About how human destiny is woven. The primarch himself did not notice how fascinated he was by your voice. Sweet and inviting. This is exactly how mortals feel when they open their souls to a preacher. And he wanted to open his soul and body.

“I’m not a believer, don’t think about it” - you make excuses and babble like a servant of the Imperial Truth. False Truth. “But while studying all these stories, I couldn’t help but think about what it would be like... to believe. In part, I even envy the ancient inhabitants of Terra... b-but I certainly don’t strive to believe in gods.”

No, you are striving. You desperately want to let them into your heart, Lorgar knew this. You were simply studying ancient false gods. But he could show you the truth. The primarch could kill for you for the glory of Khorne. Conduct conversations about the existence of the world for the glory of Tzeentch. Grant you eternal life for the glory of Nurgle.... and wallow with you in lust for the glory of Slaanesh.

Squeeze your fragile perfect body in his bulky hands. Hear your voice sing into the Warp. How you open up and lay bare before his eyes like a book. How you record his story, his torment and agony on your skin. The way you kiss his forehead in a motherly gesture. Until you move on your lips like a temptress.

...You are an amazing woman. You cannot be a Chaos Goddess. No. But your thoughts, your vision of the world, your unusual behavior with the primarchs pointed to your originality. You are a saint. And you must bear his word. And you will.

Lorgar feels a shiver run through his body as he sees your eyes blink in surprise when he asked you to become his personal remembrancer. The way your lips part and your chest heaves... Before the primarch opened the soul of Slaanesh, he could not even imagine such a thing as lust. Love? Yes. He felt it for you. But lust... it was a new feeling for him.

And he liked it.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Aaaaahhhhh!!!! I love this! What a lovely husbandry setting! ❤️❤️❤️❤️

“Our family”, “our sons”,…. You sure it’s really a slip of the tongue?

Can’t wait to read more of this!

Room for growth

Chapter: 1 Warnings: none so far (Lorgar might get a bit clingy in the future)

"Do you have more of this series here?" The voice, buttery, rich and warm, washed over me, and I hummed into my tea. Turning, I saw Lorgar holding the first book in a series I had enjoyed as a teen.

"Finished already?" It had taken me days to get through the first book, but Lorgar had only had it since that morning. It was just getting to early evening.

His cheeks tinged red, and he set the book down on the end table by the comfortable recliner I'd gotten for him off Craigslist.

"It was quite a good read, I will admit. Perhaps a tad bit predictable... but I can see why you enjoyed the story so far."

That made me smile. I got up to go to my room, the books were all in boxes in the back of my closet.

The apartment wasn't very big, especially with two people now. But with the new position I'd taken at work. The idea of actually owning a house was looking like a really good idea.

Especially with all the financial aid the government had recently rolled out to families with Astartes and Primarchs in their homes. I had loved having him in my home. Even before the financial aid. Bringing him into my home had made my life fuller. It had made me wonder if maybe Lorgar would enjoy having one or two of his sons to keep him company when I was away. And as I understood it, primarchs were meant to be with their astartes.

I brought out the second volume and went back to the living room.

"So Lorgar.. can I ask you something?"

The short, tan warrior looked up from the place he'd settled and smiled at me. "Of course."

I fought the urge to go to him and scoop him up in a hug. Gosh, he was cute. I mean, if he'd been a normal man, I... I shook my head clear off that notion quickly.

Lorgar waited patiently for me to continue, his vibrant violet eyes watching me.

"You know how I recently got that promotion? Well, with it came a significant bump in my pay, and I was doing the budget yesterday. I think we could stand to have a few more house members. And if we're going to be looking for a proper house here in the near future, I thought that having more rooms might mean we could bring home some of your sons. If you're alright with the idea. I think it'd be nice for you to have some of your gene sons with you."

Lorgar all but leaped out of the chair to bowl into me. Nearly knocking me from my feet.

"That would be wonderful! My hearts have been so heavy without my beloved sons. This would bring me no end of joy." He exclaimed, his face buried in my stomach.

I wrapped my arms around him and froze slightly. As an odd sensation of what I dared to call wrongness rolled over me.

Lorgars' face was buried in my stomach. Just above the highest point of my ilium.

Lorgar sensed something immediately and retracted. "My apologies, I did not mean to cause you discomfort."

I felt a deep need to rectify the situation and did so, taking Lorgar by the shoulder. "Hey, no, I was just startled is all.. are you.. taller?"

Lorgar looked at me quizzically, then down at himself and seemed just as confused as I was.

"I am.. unsure."

I ran the tip of my tongue over the back of my teeth and sank deep into thought.

It was obvious he was, now that I really looked at him. When he'd first come to live with me, his head only reached up to the bottom of my hips. The top of his head had been just a hair above where my leg connected.

"Well. I'm sure it's nothing. I'm gonna get dinner going."

Lorgar nodded, and he gently took the book I'd been holding. He seemed equally lost in thought.

Dinner was quieter than usual, and I spent the time on my phone, googling.

'My primarch is taller than I remember?'

The search came up with multiple results of other adoptive families worried that their Astartes had suddenly shot up a few inches in height.

So I wasn't the only one.

I scrolled till I saw a blog posted by someone I had been following for a few months.

[Hey yall, I gotta say I think Sanguinius and his sons are getting taller!!?!?! And I know I'm not tripping cause the beds I had made for him and his three sons (even if they hardly use them) are actually a bit cramped for them now. Am I the only one having this problem? If he gets any taller I might be looking at having to buy a new house. I don't have the space for three full sized astartes and ESPECIALLY not a full sized primarch. 😑 😰

But I won't give up on my family. I love them so much even if I have to buy a mansion to keep them with me. Please does anyone know what's going on?]

I went to the message tab and found a ton of replies of concerned astartes families sharing much the same sentiment.

I looked over to Lorgar, who was eagerly consuming his second plate of dinner. He ate a lot for someone his size already. I bit my lip.

I'd already offered to bring one of his gene sons into my home. I couldn't take that away from him now.

The next tab I opened was my email and began one to my social worker, Tabitha.

[Hey Tabitha,

I recently found myself with a new position at work in a decent pay increase. I know Lorgar has been lonely while I'm away, and my boss has been cracking down on people bringing astartes (and primarchs) into the office during our busy season. I wanted to know if you could connect me with a potential WordBearer who is in need of a placement. I can provide any financial documents you need just as I did before.] I sent it and got up to put my dishes in the sink. "How's the dinner Gar?" Lorgar hummed around a mouthful of food, nodding his delight of the dish. His violet eyes glittered in appreciation. "Glad you like it."

"May I have the rest?" He asked, always polite when asking more of anything, as if he understood just how much mire he required and felt guilty about it. "Of course you can." And I for my part found it impossible to deny him. After dinner I decided to head to bed early. In the shower I thought about all the posts, that I'd seen and began to worry. After toweling off and getting dressed in something comfortable I got into bed and opened the realtor app on my phone.

I needed a better house, something that Lorgar would be comfortable in, I scrolled for what felt like an hour, ruling places out as I looked for the perfect spot. The door creaked open and I lifted the corner of the blanket, Lorgar got into bed and got comfortable next to me. He rarely used his own bed anymore.

"I emailed Tabitha. I asked her about any of your sons that might need a placement."

Lorgar wrapped one arm around my chest and hugged me as best as he could. "Thank you."

I kissed the top of his head gently. "Of course. You don't need to thank me Gar."

"But I wish to, so I shall." He peaked at my screen. "What are you looking for?" "A new place. If we're expanding our family we may need more space."

He nodded. "That is true. I know you will find us the best space for our family." He yawned and rested his head on my chest getting ready to nod off. "Our sons will need plenty of room." It took me a minute to register his words. As I inspecting the land size of one property that looked promising. "What was that?" I asked. But as usual he was asleep almost immediately. I envied that ability of his. "Must have been a slip of the tongue." I reasoned, it happened occasionally.

I set my phone down and plugged it in. I had the next day off and wanted to take Lorgar out to mingle with his brother. Magnus and his placement family lived nearby and Magnus's placement person had called, asking if we could meet up as his brother was missing him. It was going to be a surprise, but I also wanted to ask If they'd noticed anything about Magnus that was unusual as of late. Yawning I turned into Lorgar, hugging him close. It would be a tomorrow problem.

[wxnheart]

What is cuddling with the primarchs like. (And no just writing morty off with a stank joke plz)

Horus - Very affectionate, complete with quips and kisses. Loves to hold you in the crook of his arm. His tits are wonderful pillows.

Leman Russ - Leman is quite the cuddler, especially because he really likes skin-to-skin contact when you two cuddle. More than likely, you'll both be naked. To your surprise, horizontal loving doesn't happen as often as you thought it would.

Ferrus Manus - A bit stilted but he's got the spirit. His arms are of great interest to you so it's not out of the ordinary to marvel at them.

Fulgrim - Cuddling with Fulgrim has an 85% chance of leading to... other things so yeah. Cuddling also includes a very elaborate primping session.

Vulkan - About as vanilla and saccharine as it gets. Doesn't usually last long because the giant teddy bear is a walking furnace.

Rogal Dorn - Also a bit stilted with him, too. If anything, you'll be tucked under him and engaging in conversation over his latest project. His voice, though he doesn't believe it, is quite sonorous and lulls you into a peaceful doze.

Roboute Guilliman - You're the one sitting in his lap while he's busy doing paperwork or the like. You like to tease him and he'll chuckle and tell you to behave; this is said rather suggestively, too. 👀

Magnus - Funnily enough, you're cuddling and playing with his hair while nestled comfortably in one arm while he's busy reading a book or perhaps the latest treatise his brother Lorgar wrote.

Sanguinius - Just as saccharine as Vulkan's, complete with you being enveloped in his wings just as much are you are in his arms. Touching his feathers will make him rouse his wings, though.

Lion El'Jonson - LMAO.

Perturabo - You're begrudgingly (read: happily) nestled against him and he begrudgingly (read: ABSOLUTELY) accepts it.

Mortarion - The clingy koala of the group, even with the scowl on his face. If he had his way, he'd never let go. Don't you dare tell his brothers or sons, though.

Lorgar - The one who cocoons himself around you. He absolutely, positively adores your cuddle sessions. It's a wonderful retreat away from his obligations and foster father.

Jaghatai Khan - You're holding on to him for dear life while he goes fast so there goes your cuddle session. He's really the one who has no objections to cuddling but he doesn't actively seek them out, either.

Konrad Curze - Does looming over you smirking like a deranged gremlin count as cuddling? If so, then... nice!

Angron - One of the many reasons he has to hate the Nails. Wants your touch. Yearns for it, actually, and if he didn't have them, he'd have Mortarion beat as the clingiest koala to ever cling. Instead, he has to contend with thought and you have to contend with the crazed way he looks at you. Cheers, darling.

Corvus Corax - Cuddling him is like being enveloped by the comfortable darkness. Whenever you're surrounded by it, you're secure in his arms.

Alpharius - You cuddle one, you cuddle them all. Cuddle pile!

[slaaneshisass]

I wonder what weird / incredible dangerous parenting thing the emperor did to get him banned from babysitting like what would be his "oh I just put the baby down for a nap face down in a crib with blankets and pillows" or "what do you mean I can't give him wisky to help the baby while they're teething" the guy was born in the stone age they probably had some wild child care rules