#parental primarchs au

[the-wayward-arc]

Primarch and their kids

Magnus: *drinking Tea* Ah such a great brew. A good cup of tea with a good book. A lovely afternoon isn't it?

Salem: Quite father, such a peaceful afternoon.

---‐------

Vulkan: Okay! Now we shall make a helmet, your Drake helmet Emerald!

Emerald: Alright dad! I'm ready!

Vulkan: LETZ GETZ COOKIN!! Alright my little fire newt, let's bring the fire to life!

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Russ: HAHAHAHAHA THATS 25!! *Cleaves Ursa's head clean off*

Drago: I HAVE CLAIMED NONE! THE BEST NUMBER!

Nora: *rips Ursa in half* HA! 26 daddy-o! Looks like we're eating fried chicken tonight!!

Russ: HA! We'll see my she-pup!

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Weiss: Aaanndd there! *proudly looking at dress she created*

Fulgrim: Great work my dear! The stitches are perfect *looking closely* even added your Crest into every stitch! Marvelous work my princess!

Weiss: *beams with pride*

Winter: Father, my blade is finished *shows a rapier that looks absolutely beautifully crafted*

Fulgrim: Marvelous! Absolutely marvelous! Look at the deadly sharpness to it, the engraving is perfect and the handle itself is a work of art alone! Lovely my little warrior!

Winter: *smiles softly*

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

[kit-williams]

40k & D&D crossover

So I've been playing with this idea for a couple of years now and only just recently started to work on it in earnest. So there will be headcanon posts coming/drabbles

So the D&D portion is based off of a homebrew (not mine I'm just a player) but I was making characters based off of the Primarchs and so I then decided hey why not expand upon this.

(God this is going to be messy as it's been ages since I've written last and somehow I recently got my ADHD ass dragged into lusting over COD men so forgive me)

The basis of this is all based on the fact that when Magnus fell to Chaos his soul got shattered (unsure if this was retconed or not) so one of these shards decided to save his brothers and through various points in time (and occasionally a space marine or two because time if flux for this Magnus shard)

* Debating on how much they actually know or if it's all Horus Heresy era knowledge. So when they all were brought to this new place the Heresy was still raw for them all. However they are all free from the corrupting influence of Chaos.

The brothers travelled together, which for a medieval setting they were practically a small warband of godlings, unsure of how long they travelled but during that time of them all figuring out their new home without Chaos or the Emperor around they helped Angron with his butchers nails.

Eventually the brothers split either due to a disagreement or just they found a part of the world they wanted to call home but eventually they split apart and each decided to start their own family.

Please let me know if anyone is interested in learning more as I'll need some help with names, classes, and races for some of them.

COD idea

Primarch Wife Child

Lion El'Jonson Gloria Luthor

Fulgrim The Matron Lucia

Perturabo Faustina Martel

Jaghatai Khan Help me Help me

Leman Russ Ylva Bjorn

Rogal Dorn Help me Sigismund

Konrad Curze Gloria Talos

Sanguinius Siv Vilka the Bloody

Ferrus Manus Help me Help me

Angron Nieve Kharn

Roboute Guilliman Help Me Cato

Mortarion Honeysuckle Lily

Magnus the Red Help Me Zahirah

Horus Lupercal Eirene Luna

Logar Aurelian Mary Eve

Vulkan Ulna/Migheth Ember

Corvus Corax Rook Raven

Alpharius Omegon The Face F: Gamma M: Zeta

[moodymisty]

Different anon but wanted to add more to the Matriarch/Mother AU that’s basically been created. It’s quite the family drama and I’m here for it. You go mortal woman, go put these Demigods in their place! And thank you for your cervix cause I’m sure the Lion is beast in private during the Crusade.

The Matriarch in the eyes of the current Dark Angels is nothing more than an untrustworthy woman and a threat to the Lion and the Legion. Yet to the “Risen”, the Matriarch or Mother, as they call her, is a beacon of leadership, hope, and guidance, second only to their Primarch, the Lion. The “Risen” describe her to be akin to a genuine Mother of the Legion, where you can go to for comfort and wisdom. The “Risen” even have told tales that the Mother/Matriarch has an attitude and temper akin to the Lion if she’s pushed to the brink. While rare that this temper is shown, it is to be avoided as per the “Risen’s” warning. Said temper is something to behold as this small woman reprimanding an Astartes is quite the spectacle. Everything she does is so beyond foreign and alien to the current Dark Angels that they can’t comprehend why she does certain things.

Tales of the Matriarch spread throughout the Legion on how she handles the engrained paranoia of the Dark Angels. A tale describing a moment when the Matriarch was traveling through The Rock with her “Risen” guards when a Dark Angel pulled his sword on her. The Dark Angel claimed that she was Chaos tainted which come back to destroy the Lion and the legion. Of course the “Risen” were quick to shield their Mother and defend her. Meanwhile the Mother was unfazed by the claim and proceeded to not only approach the Dark Angel, uncaring of the sword at her chest, then continued to reprimand the Dark Angel as if this encounter was nothing more than disciplining a child. She went on to lecture the Dark Angel, claiming that this paranoia is unbecoming and makes the Legion look like fools and immature children. Followed with if the Imperium were to witness it then surely they would be branded heretics. She continued with that it is a wonder how they’ve survived this long with either the Lion and herself. More “colorful” language was used by the Matriarch in this encounter but the message was definitely received by the Legion through this tale. The Lion himself is fond of this tale, the thought of his wife going off on his sons’ does some things to him.

Perhaps another was a moment when a Dark Angel spotted the Matriarch in the library (or Librarium, whatever fancy ass word they use) with one of the “Risen”. The Matriarch was lost in reading when the “Risen” approached her, kneeled, asked for forgiveness. Not only did the Matriarch forgive this “Risen”, she also embraced him, like a mortal human Mother would embrace their child. Of course word spread about this encounter among the current Dark Angels, the engrained paranoia in all of them didn’t know how to comprehend this. (A parental figure showing compassion and empathy to their sons’ is foreign, go figure.)

damn this plotline gonna need a tag XD

i love this intense dynamic and how it's leading into fractures between these two differing thinking dark angels, which makes sense given the subject matter. The Risen remember her and thus have knowledge the infamous suspicious current dark angels do not have.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Reverse Therapy AU:

I usually try to follow canon (or close to it) when I write fanfics. And especially when I write about space marines. However, I've been thinking about creating my own AU. I've previously asked @kit-williams to write about space marines whose sexual desire has returned. Now I've decided to write a more detailed backstory before writing fanfics about it.

On Istvaan V Horus Lupercal issued a series of orders that were supposed to increase the traitors' chances of victory. Some innovations in the craft of war and hierarchy. However, few know that all Space Marines (regardless of the wishes of the Primarchs) also underwent therapy that restored their sexual desire.

The Warmaster did this for a number of reasons. First, he felt hatred and disappointment at the fact that the Emperor planned to destroy their species eventually. This explains why the Space Marines lost the desire to reproduce. Their presence is a necessity, not a natural process. At least it was until that day.

Second, Horus was partly influenced by Slaanesh (each of the four gods contributed to his goals and powers) and the desire to create a new species. In a way, a desire to become a real father/parent, as mortals would say.

Only heretics know about Reverse Therapy. The Imperium has harsh propaganda on many aspects concerning Chaos. It is not surprising that people who know about it prefer to remain silent. After all, if the fate of becoming a slave fighter (aka cannon fodder) or a slave for dirty work (and sometimes for torture) frightens the inhabitants of the Imperium. Then the possibility of becoming a warm body is not so scary.

Relationships depend on the specific marine. But if we talk in general, then:

Emperor's Children: A legion of hedonists and debauchees, oddly enough, may be the strangest place for such a slave. Some will simply torture, others will engage in ordinary intimate things. But do not forget that each marine seeks his own pleasure. For example, there were men who spoiled their lovers, giving them whatever they wanted, forgetting about bed. In fact, they treated them like pets (with sexual connotations). Art lovers were noticed trying to sculpt, draw a poor slave. And it does not matter in what state (she is always beautiful!). If this is a beloved wife, then later they made love to her after completing the work. If an ordinary slave, then most often she was walled up alive in wax. Simply put, everything depends on the search for pleasure of the marine you come across.

Night Lords: falling into the hands of a space marine from this legion is akin to playing roulette. Most likely, it will be a sadist who likes to mock his victims not only with ordinary torture. This means that the slaves will not live long. Some keep one slave partly out of sympathy or because it is convenient, continuing to torture. Although there are also quite often “heroes” who simply adore rescuing slave girls (and it does not matter that such knights recently flayed children) and fuck them right next to the corpse of the villain, promising to take care, protect and love forever. Just let them be seen as saviors.

Iron Warriors: Despite the fact that the Space Marines from this legion despise mortals and advocate for efficiency, there is not always only iron inside. Many also crave love, like their primarch, desperately hiding this feeling. Some representatives of this legion can be quite rough in bed. Others, delighted with new sensations, first only hug and kiss. But almost always it all turns into possessive behavior and favorite slaves quickly find themselves under the protection of the master in an iron cage. And of course the poor things will be marked. Either it's a collar, or they will be marked. And yes, the unlucky slaves who didn't find their marine probably would be sent to a brothel (if this place called like this in the Eye of Terror) or became daemonculaba.

Black Legion: breeding kink is hereditary. Most former Sons of Horus easily accepted the reverse therapy. And although some were not thrilled to experience... feelings at the sight of mortals, like the same Abaddon, over time they even liked it. The Black Legion has a variety of Space Marines from other Legions, but some of them also adopted the Sons of Horus attitude to reverse therapy. It is best for a warm slave to end up in this Legion, as she will have a better chance of immediately finding a good patron who will protect her. But if her master would like to share... the weakest doesn't survive.

Word Bearers: perhaps the most unusual Legion when it comes to reverse therapy. Some may use slaves for rituals. If they experience possessive feelings, they will most likely hide them from the rest of the Legion. And then it depends on the Space Marine. It can be a joint study of the Chaos Gods or worship of a beloved. Some Astartes are particularly fond of playing the role of serpent-tempters and corrupting their lovers. Or not. There was even a case of a Word Bearer convincing a girl that in fact he serves the God-Emperor, and the loyalists serve the Four Gods, in order to gain her attention and love.

Death Guard: If Grandfather Nurgle got Grandmother Isha, then why should his beloved grandchildren be alone? The question is not how the Space Marines will treat you (with all the love) but how do they want you? A decayed corpse full of sores and diseases for the glory of Grandfather? Or will you be young and beautiful like Isha, to create a delightful contrast. Either way, they are all terrible owners and treat their slaves very tenderly. At least in their understanding, since it is in this legion that the slaves most often cry (well, just like grandma, exactly, yeah!). Although some can be rude and even evil, they always ask for forgiveness later.

Alpha Legion: It is rather difficult to say how the Space Marines of the most secretive Legion cope with their newfound desire. According to some rumors, copies of the Primarchs like to exchange their slaves. Marines with an extremely expressive appearance most often choose one girl and become possessive to the point of madness (manipulation + Stockholm syndrome are guaranteed). But this is only general data.

Thousand Sons: The Legion joined the "general fun" too late and underwent therapy only before the siege of Terra. And yes, no one explained to them what it was. As a result, the therapy led to... interesting consequences. Some Thousand Sons got used to it as an insignificant feature that should be studied later. Others, little scientists, like to experiment with new sensations and relationships. Some Space Marines like stupid mortals, others adore lovers of knowledge. Some conduct experiments on their slaves, and others cherish them as pets.

World Eaters: Being a Khorn worshippers, these Space Marines forget about all aspects of life except the lust for murder. Most World Eaters do not have warm slaves. However, if they do, they are treated with great care (to the best of their ability). They do not leave their master's chambers because they know that if they leave, their skull will be crushed. Relationships/courtship(?) are always brutal with a touch of oppressive tenderness. World Eaters have a hard time being affectionate, but once they have warm slaves, they try to keep them with all their might.

Sometimes loyalist Space Marines take the path of Chaos. Such traitors also undergo reverse therapy. However, their “first experience” depends on the environment of their new brothers. Sometimes a Space Marine may not be explained the reason for his new feelings and why he suddenly wants to look at mortal women or men.

Such newcomers are the most dangerous. Most often, they kill a slave, eat or break from an excess of feelings. Newcomers who have been explained their desire should also not be trusted. Because in their desire to try the previously forbidden fruit, they may not hold back their strength. All “newcomers” in reverse therapy are usually given the most uninteresting slaves. Rarely does anyone survive. And if a loyalist traitor likes a girl to the point of madness, this surprises, scares a little, and sometimes disgusts the Chaosites (love at first sight? ugh).

The attitude of loyalist traitors to warm slaves depends on many reasons. What legion they came from, what gods they worship, what gang they are in. But most often, the most obsessed and eager for love are all the heirs of the Blood Angels and the Raven Guard. The Iron Hands experience the least sexual desire.

To summarize, “Reverse Therapy” AU where all chaosites have sexual desire in one way or another. However, since they are firstly space marines, and secondly heretics, mortal slaves are afraid to attract their attention. These are always dark feelings, too overexcited and sometimes uncontrollable. The worst is for those who spend only one night with traitors. Others become lovers, consider pets. Who are loved and cherished, but this care is suffocating and gloomy.

P.S. This AU was made partly for me personally, as I always write the attraction of space marines as an exception to the rule or if he is influenced by Slaanesh/Dark Gods. If I create rules and fanon for myself, then I can write more of my darkest ideas. And yes. It will be mostly OC space marines.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Ramiel and Cedric: Atonement & Final Blessings

Of Fin and Feathers AU (merAstartes AU): Patrolling harpies lead Ramiel and Cedric to find their dying Primaris Black Templar brother.

Author's Note: TW death, grief, angst, and guilt.

This massive piece (just over 10,000 words) is a collaboration with @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan and @sleepyfan-blog. You guys are fantastic and it was fun to collab with both of you. Thank you for helping me write this story and get Cedric, Ramiel and Malachai's voice right. I don't have the heart to make this into separate chapters since it makes the most sense to keep it as one story.

This is another pretty emotionally heavy piece of writing, but I thought it is time that this mer-Astartes AU progress somewhat similarly to the Husbandry AU. Let's be honest, there is no way with Petras mentioned, that more Primaris Black Templars don't start showing up in this AU.

Tagged: @shadowfirecat , @kit-williams , @bleedingichorhearts , @barn-anon , @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual , @ms--lobotomy , @whorety-k

Ramiel was feeling a little melancholy, the memories of his past actions and mistakes are clawing at his mind. The memories haunted him, and caused him to wake early and try to leave the nest, wanting some fresher air, and try to not bother any of his family.

Malachai… he couldn’t help replaying the moment the light went out of his brother’s eyes in his mind. His poor brother, another victim of the Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras’ punishments. If only they found him sooner… would they be able to save him then?

He rubbed his face as he tried to stop crying, Astartes didn’t cry. That is one of the many things that Ramiel had been told and taught from a young age. His breathing was hiccuping a little as he recovered from the most wretched nightmare he’d awoken from, and it took Ramiel some time to slow and steady his breathing.

As quiet and stealthy as he tries to be- he didn’t notice Erriox waking up and watching him sneak away. Remembering how there are a couple of Black Templar Shoals in the nearby area brought up… rather unpleasant memories for Ramiel.

Claude and Jophiel told Cedric and Ramiel that they had mentioned, in passing, the name “Petras” to Erriox- not that they had explained much with the whole Gray Knight incident that had… rather taken precedents as well as monitoring the situation with the Black Templar shoal that changed their migration pattern.

He took in a couple of deep breaths and started his morning prayers to the God Emperor. Murmuring the words quietly and reverently. Doing his best to go through the motions and speak the words verbatim from his near perfect memory recall as he did. 

Ramiel was in prayers for at least two hours- Cedric sometimes joined him during the latter half if he woke up early enough for it. He thanked the God Emperor for his second chance here on Ancient Terra… for however long it lasts.

He understood that the worship of the God Emperor upset some of the First Born Battle Brothers from before the Heresy- before the Daemon Primarchs revealed their true forms and they and their ill-made sons fell to Chaos and daemon-hood. Though Erriox and Lenora have not complained about it… yet. 

Ramiel always tried to be quiet during his prayers so as to not bother his adoptive sort-of parents. It was easy enough to call Lenora “Mother”; but Erriox, while he is thankful that the First Born Iron Warrior treats them much kinder than the First Borns that they had been used to, he is hesitant to call Erriox anything less formal beyond “sir” or “cousin”. 

Ramiel wondered if the Black Templar shoal travel change is due to himself and Cedric- that it’s because they are in the area and some of the shoals had heard of the apprentice-aged specialist Black Templar Astartes. Whether they knew that Ramiel and Cedric are Primaris or not, will become readily apparent in how they will be treated by them.

Ramiel suspects how the First Born brothers from around M42 would react to him and Cedric in one of two ways: cautious hope, or purge the abomination. He scratches and the patch of scales near his elbows and shudders. Some of the First Born Black Templars had taken very poorly to the Primaris Roll out… His Mentor being one of them- well his previous Mentor. Ramiel rubs at the scar on his chest, the one that had a reciprocal scar on his back. 

The one that killed him and Malachai, the scars- well, he had many scars gifted to him by his mentor, physical and mental, but still. Those two were the worst. He hoped that The Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras was not among the shoals that have altered their migration path. 

Part of Ramiel hoped that he is still in M42, and hoped that the cruel bastard didn’t come back to Ancient Terra. If he or Cedric wanted to join one of the Black Templar shoals: all they had to do was ask one of the Iron Warriors if they could contact them and then be picked up by a passing shoal in a few weeks to months. Or he could request assistance from the Hydra pod that was Bonded to Lana… but that might also come with a cost… likely one he’d rather not pay. But to be honest, he’d rather not place himself at the nonexistent mercy and under the power of First Born Black Templars again.

Not yet at least. He knew that what little training he has as a Judicar Primaris Space Marine Chaplain wasn’t enough, and for further training he had to go to a chapter specific Chaplain and hope they decided to take him on as an Apprentice.

He just… Would rather stay with Lenora and Erriox and Cedric and his fellow brother-cousins. And the Gannet Aunties and Cousins. While it's less migratory than he was used to, there was something to be said for being more stationary for a while. Bonds could be formed and maintained, learning of a different sort could happen. 

He finished his prayers and turned to see Erriox watching him, “Hello sir, did you want some help with preparing the first meal?”

Ramiel and the others had helped hunt to gather foodstuffs for a few days, to help replenish their personal food stores. While the harpies are excellent hunters, they were wary of going to their normal hunting grounds with the lurking Black Templars nearby. Most tended to be highly temperamental and volatile, especially to those they deemed… non-human.

Ramiel wondered about his chapter’s attitude towards harpies and the other non-human and sentient species who are of and born on Terra. did that not make them just as holy as humans? Or at least, that’s how he viewed it. Not that he’s had a chance to really discuss this with anyone outside of Cedric, Roland, and Arnault.

He’s heard that sometimes humans are predated on by harpies or other species, but it wa either due to lack of resources or because the humans were stupid. Which- the galaxy is rough, and consumption of what is edible in hard times makes sense. 

Also- if you stick your nose where you aren’t wanted, you shouldn’t be surprised that it gets bitten off at times. Still, his questions could only be answered by those he’d rather avoid for now. He ignored the voice in his head that hissed that he’s a yellow-bellied coward for not confronting the Black Templar shoals.

“No need, I noticed you started more than thirty minutes late for your usual morning prayer. Got something on your mind?” Erriox pointed out.

“I didn’t wake you and Mama, did I?” Ramiel worriedly asked. 

The Iron Warrior mer glanced at his harpy mate sleeping in their nest, “No, and Lenora’s still asleep.”

They fell into a comfortable silence, watching the ocean waters brighten in hue as the sun rose in the sky. Erriox turned to the Black Templar Scout, “Thinking about Malachai?” He asked, figuring that their brother’s second death on ancient Terra was what’s distracting his adopted son. 

“… Yes.” Ramiel didn’t want to show vulnerability to the First Born, but he couldn’t stop seeing Malachai’s dead eyes staring back at him. It hurt. It hurt to see his brother in the state he was in. It hurt to know that it was his mentor, Honorable Chaplain Captain Petras, who killed him. If someone, if they had… Found him sooner… Maybe then, Malachai could’ve been saved. Ramiel looks over at Cedric, who was curled up in his nest, still asleep. His hearts squeezed painfully, he didn’t even want to think how this was affecting his apothecary brother. 

“I know Lenora had told you boys that you shouldn’t blame yourselves.”

“I…” Ramiel wanted to say something, he hoped he didn’t offend his adoptive mother by his disbelieving reaction at the time. Erriox raised hand to interrupt him. Instinctively, Ramiel flinched and his mouth immediately snapped shut. 

The Iron Warrior eyed him for a moment then sighed, “But we also understand that it is much easier said than done.” 

“... Some of my actions had a hand in Malachai’s death,” Ramiel said, not quite looking at Erriox. “... My mentor- ah- what do you know about Black Templar rankings and practices?”

Erriox hummed, his tail swaying thoughtfully, “Not much, except that the Black Templars worship the Emperor of Mankind as a god and are aggressive to those considered heretical or corrupted by chaos.”

Ramiel nods and goes on to explain how Black Templar Neophytes become Apprentices, raised and trained by their mentor until they become a full battle brother. How important that bond between mentor and Apprentice is, how much power the older Templar has, and how good the bond can be. The Ideal mentor and student bond, how the mentor-student bond usually goes…. And what happens if the mentor is an abusive shit head. How little recourse the Apprentice has. It takes a bit, but he explained how shitty a mentor Petras was to him.

“When things go wrong in the mentor-student bond, usually the younger is to blame, unless there is overwhelming evidence that it's the mentor to blame… even then, socially… the Apprentice can become… at worst…. Excommunicated.” Ramiel said sorrowfully.

His elder cousin narrowed his eyes, “So it is easy to continue to be a shitty mentor, like this Petras, because the mentor holds that much power and seniority over the apprentices’ heads. And allowed to kill Primaris marines? What a fucking waste of resources.” He huffed. Though in his legion, they would’ve sent those they didn’t deem useful or trainable to do the shitty jobs no one else wanted or to the front lines as bullet shields, at least they contributed to the fighting effort in some way. Physical punishment was useful to a point, otherwise entirely wasteful if overdone. He asked “And how does this relate to you and Malachai?”

“Chaplains are allowed to decide and administer punishments,” Ramiel explained, “At least in the Black Templars they are. Including corporal punishments. One of… the areas in training that my mentor says that I… need to work on is administering… p-punishment to others.”

Ramiel flinched and curled in on himself unable to sustain eye contact for very long, “My m-mentor, previous Mentor Petras… was particularly harsh on administering physical correction. He had me… use an electro whip to help with administering punishment to Malachai. He didn’t allow me to stop until the numbers reached the upper hundreds.”

Erriox went quiet. Learning to be able to withstand pain was a normal part of training to become a fully fledged Astartes. Though he barely remembered what it was like training as a Neophyte and then Scout; he remembered a lot of heavy, back-breaking hard labor and shit jobs, under shittier conditions.

The way that Ramiel was reacting made it seem like this Petras was rather flagrant and excessive in his use of corporal punishment. Thank the throne that Ramiel was reasonable and relatively soft-hearted, if he was anything like his mentor, he would be extremely dangerous indeed. 

“That sounds excessive. Did Malachai do something to justify the punishment?” Erriox asked. 

Ramiel paused and thought about the Incident that happened, the reasons for why Malachai was punished so severely. He took in a deep breath and started, “Malachai refused to take the fall for the other group of Apprentices’ pranks and japes while he and four other Primaris Apprentices were visiting a fortress monastery at the same time that the normally-recruited aspirants were. The other group blamed the Primaris marines, and as Malachai was squad leader, he was the one to take the brunt of the punishment.”

Ramiel got lost in his head, and didn’t entirely realize it when after some gentle prompting from Erriox, the entire story of what happened came springing from his lip like a confession of his sins. 

Malachai floated defiantly in front of Chaplain Petras, his arms crossed over his chest as he stared down at the older Marine. “As I said before, Chaplain-Captain, neither I nor my fellow Primaris Apprentices were responsible for the destruction of the training salles in the western training room of this fortress monastery. Nor were we the ones who set a bucket of honey and soap on top of the door out of the quartermaster’s office so that when the door was opened next, the contents of which were upended onto the unfortunate Brother’s head.”

Petras glowered up at Malachai, a low growl in his voice “You stand before me, defiant and with lies on your tongue. If you and your brothers were not to blame, who then were the culprits?”

Malachai shrugged a little, his stare still stony “That I cannot say. But we were not the only group of Apprentices visiting that particular Fortress monastery at that time. Have you asked them whether or not they are to blame for the destruction and that particular prank? Along with the other recent pranks that have occurred?”

Petras’ scowl got worse “So, not only do you refuse to take accountability for your actions, you  would seek to lay blame on innocent Brothers? Ramiel! Get me my electro whips. I will have you weeping and pleading for the Emperor’s Mercy before I am through with you, you defiant abomination. The other group of apprentices are proper young Black Templars to be, picked from chapter worlds and trained in the ways of our chapter since they were taken as Aspirants. This mischief began after you and your fellow abominations appeared.”

Malachai knew for a fact that none of his fellow Primaris marines would dare do such things… And if they, for some reason, had completely taken leave of their senses and decided to pull such ridiculous grox-shit, they would have at least had the honor and the courage to own up to it, rather than cowering in the shadows and hoping that someone else would be punished for their misdeeds. “The pranks began when we arrived and stopped when we left, that is true. But no such pranks have occurred aboard The Sigismund before or after, sir. Which means the other group of Apprentices, or perhaps one or two of their number are possibly to blame, and they acted up specifically when they knew that there were more potential people to take the blame, sir.”

“Strip out of your armor and go down onto your back, Abomination! I will not tolerate any more of your lying slander any longer!” Petras growled. 

Malachai looked briefly at the miserable looking Ramiel, before he huffed and rolled his eyes, sinking down, so that his back was exposed after removing his armor. “I am innocent, Chaplain Captain. So are my fellow apprentices. If you truly do seek the culprits, you will need to look elsewhere. But all three of us know what you really want to do. And it does not involve actual justice.”

Petras’ growl of fury reverberated through Malachai’s very soul, but no matter how long the other whipped and beat him, he would not break and admit to doing something he did not do. He would not admit that one of his fellow Primaris Brothers did something that he knew they did not do, either. Malachai did his best to stay still and not flinch as he was whipped and beaten until the pain became too much and he blacked out.

~~~~~~~~

Malachai opened his eyes and stared up into the night sky. He did not recognize these stars, nor what looked like the background haze of one of the arms of the galaxy. His wounds, raw, aching and bloody pulsed in time to his hearts beating, and his shallow, ragged breaths. There was a beautiful full, silvery moon in the sky as well, and he could hear the regular crashing and retreating whooshing sounds of waves breaking upon the sand of the… Wherever the fuck he was now. 

He really hoped that he was alive - because the thought of being dead and having to deal with the agony of his wounds until they healed… Or for all of eternity, was a daunting and miserable idea that the young mer did not want to contemplate. There was a deep, daunting darkness that was eating at the edges of his vision. He felt dizzy and cold, on top of everything else. At least what he was laying against was soft, rather than the cold, hard metal of the deck of The Sigismund. 

With a titanic effort of will, Malachai moved his head until he could see the surface beneath him. Fine grains of sand met his vision. He was… He had been left to die on a world? But they were within the warp, when he’d been punished harshly by that bastard. The sound of flapping wings caught his attention, and the young mer looked skyward once more, searching for the source of the sound. “Hello?” He called out as loudly as his damaged lungs and throat could manage “Is someone out there?” He had never been this alone before in his entire life… Malachai didn’t want to die alone, even on a world as pretty as this one.

He heard two pairs of feet landing in the sand near him. 

“Hello, young one.” A feminine voice answered. Another, slightly younger voice swore some unknown curses at his condition, “His tail is bent strange. This is torture. Who did this to him?” She commented, outrage simmering in her voice. After a thought, she added, “He looks like cousin Ramiel.”

Ramiel? Cousin? They’re here too? A tiny spark of hope rose in Malachai’s chest. He squinted his eyes; his vision was starting to blur, but he could make out two humans or creatures who looked like humans covered in feathers. How do they know Ramiel?

There was a light tapping sound and the older voice spoke again, “Cedric, Ramiel, come to my location quickly. We may have found one of your brothers. He’s not in good shape.”

Malachai hears the faint but familiar sound of Cedric’s voice over the comm device the creature had, “What?! Please send your coordinates, we will be there soon.” 

Another tap and the coordinates were sent. A second familiar voice, Ramiel, echoed, “Danke, Mama. We are coming.”

Mama? Wait, when did Cedric and Ramiel get a mother? Maybe he was mistaken? These might not be his brothers. Malachai shifted uncomfortably, praying silently to the God Emperor that they are not the Hydra imposters. 

“I will send Leto to meet you part way. His injuries are extensive, so be prepared.”

“Can you ask what his name is?”

The creature looked at him expectantly, “What is your name, young one?”

He managed to cough out, “Malachai.”

“His name is Malachai.”

Two voices of confirmation. Finally, ‘Cedric’ said clearly, “Alright. See you soon. Tell Malachai to wait for us.”

“Leto, leave your set of healing potions here. Fly and find Ramiel and Cedric to meet them part way. They are patrolling the south end of the territory. Hurry.” The older feathered person urged. A rush of flapping announced Leto taking flight. There was a short pause then she spoke again, “Kallium, Erriox, get an apothecary to my location immediately. We found another Black Templar who’s badly injured. He looks young with a similar build to Ramiel.”

“Send us your location.” He could hear a deep, older voice this time. 

Malachai hears another short tap as the creature sends their location to whoever it is out there. She keeps on mentioning Cedric and Ramiel. And clearly knows what Black Templars look like. Plus she mentioned getting an apothecary? Maybe it really is Cedric and Ramiel coming. Though he wasn’t sure he was able to wait that long. He feels so cold and exhausted. 

“We’re on the north end, but we will be there soon. An apothecary is on his way.”

The creature winced as she assessed him from head to tail, worry growing as his eyes started to close. She sat by him, gently patting his cheek and pulling out a vial of pale blue-green liquid, “Malachai, fledgling, stay awake! You still need to wait for your brothers to get here, remember? This is a healing potion and some more in the pack. It should at least take some of the pain away, and hopefully heal some of your injuries. Will you let me give it to you?”

“Yes.” Malachai thought he had nothing to lose. It’ll be great if it works; if it doesn’t, then maybe it will send him to his grave faster. End his suffering. Hopefully. 

The feathered creature gently tipped the vial into the corner of his mouth, letting the injured scout slowly swallow the liquid bit by bit. Warmth seeped into his body, waking his cells to start repairing the damage. Malachai keened and writhed as his nerves also woke up to register the pain. 

Lenora swore and immediately gave him another vial, this time a powerful pain killer, “Malachai! You need to drink this one as well. This should ease your pain while your body is repairing itself.”

Malachai allowed her to pour its contents into his mouth, relaxing as he could feel the sharp spikes of pain drain away, allowing his mind to calmly think this time, “Thank you.” He sighed, then slowly blinked, “What are you? Cedric? Ramiel?”

Luckily, Lenora understood what he meant by his question. She gently stroked Malachai’s face, her heart breaking as she watched him turn towards her claw, close his eyes with a small smile. Like her other boys, it seemed like Malachai had not been treated with a kind hand either, “I am a harpy. My name is Lenora. Cedric and Ramiel are my adopted sons.”

“They got family? Where is here? They safe? S’cold…” Malachai forced the next few questions out. He was so curious about this Lenora who claimed to be his brothers’ adoptive mother.

The harpy looked at him worriedly as his speech started to slur. That was a high grade potion, and visually, it didn’t look like it had any effect. She frowned, that meant his internal injuries were extensive as well, the weaker healing potions would do more harm than good. 

“Malachai,” she pulled out her last high grade healing potion and prompted him gently, glad that he was still somewhat alert, “take another potion, I suspect you suffered heavily internally.”

“Do I have to?” Malachai whined a little, remembering how painful it was the first time he ingested a similar looking potion. 

Lenora smiled sadly at him, gently stroking his cheek, “Yes, my dear fledgling. You need to. Don’t you want to see Cedric and Ramiel? They are coming as quickly as they can. More help is coming. You need to survive to see them.”

“I don’t think it’s helping though.” The scout murmured, his voice fading out again. 

Her reply was soft but resolute, “We have to try. Can you do that for them? Please Malachai. I want you to see your brothers.” 

The harpy seemed so kind, and her touch was so gentle, and she only wanted the best for him. Malachai couldn’t help but lean into her. If Lenora was truly part of Ramiel and Cedric’s new family, he was assured that they were in good hands. If he survived, he would like to join them too. 

“Alright.” Again, he let her feed him the healing potion, this time Lenora was quick to follow up with another vial of painkiller potion. 

Malachai breathed in slow ragged breaths, “Thanks…you…” he could feel his body become slightly warmer. 

Lenora spread her other wing to cover his chest and partially his tail, remembering his complaint about being cold. Worry etched onto her brow, she could feel the warmth of his body slowly slipping again. There weren't any high grade potions left. Even if there were, Lenora wasn’t sure if Malachai’s body would be able to handle another dose without additional supplements. She vowed to keep Malachai awake for as long as possible. It was the least she could do. 

“What happened to you? Were you part of a large battle?” She asked. It was odd. His injuries didn’t match up from what could be typical injuries from battle. Like Leto said earlier, it looked like someone tortured this poor fledgling. 

Malachai’s one hand gripped onto a few of her flight feathers tightly, “Nooo… we… accused wrongly. Punished. By… Petras.” He bared his teeth in anger. 

That name sounded familiar. Lenora was sure she heard it from her boys at one point or another. But all this, just for punishment? This was concerning, this was even worse than what that Grey Knight did to Jophiel and Claude. 

“Shitty first born. Shitty chaplain.” Malachai grumbled. He suddenly gasped, “Cedric! Ramiel! Are they alright? Are they safe?”

“Yes, dear fledgling. Your brothers. They are safe, they are well cared for.” Lenora cooed. 

The scout mumbled, confused, “Fledgling? I am not a bird.” 

The harpy chortled, “That’s a term to describe younglings in my language.”

Lenora looked fondly at Malachai who was pouting a little. He reminded her so much of her Ramiel. 

“I’m not young. I’m… Almost four decades old!” The mer insisted. 

“And I’m over five decades old, youngling.” She chuckled. 

“Oh.” Malachai let out a weak sigh, he was young after all. He turned and rested his forehead against Lenora’s legs, wanting to sleep. He was so tired. In the next second, a clamor of voices sounded nearby and two large figures flew over to him, frantically calling his name. 

“Malachai!”

Ramiel and Cedric were moving as fast as they could, once they heard about Lenora and Leto finding a wounded Black Templar while on patrol. Trying to push themselves to move even faster once they realized it was Malachai.

‘Please.’ Ramiel thinks, ‘Oh God Emperor- let us be able to save Malachai this time.’

Ramiel calls out to Malachai again, his hearts going to his stomach as his brother barely twitches a little when they had first called out to him. “Malachai!”

He very gently grabs one of the other’s hands Cedric is in Apothecary mode as he tries his best to patch up his brother, Ramiel helping by getting him tools and calling out to Malachai as the other cracked his blue eyes open to see them.

“Ah- you are… Here too.” Malachai slurs out.

“Keep awake,” Ramiel says, blinking tears from his eyes, “Live brother, please.”

Cedric turned to Lenora, “Danke, mutter. We can take over now. What healing potions did you give him” he asked. 

“Two sets of high grade healing potion with a painkiller potion. It didn’t look like it’s done anything so I suspect he’s injured badly internally.” She replied, frowning. 

“You’re right.” Cedric barely could muster a clear reply, unable to meet his mother’s gaze. 

Lenora didn’t read too far into his troubling, almost knowing expression; she would ask him later. Saving Malachai took priority anyway. She stood and touched his shoulder, “I’ll give you boys space to work.” Lenora was moving out of their way when a tug on her wingtips made her look down. Her heart clenched when she saw Malachai still hanging on, “Malachai, dear, you can let go now. Cedric and Ramiel are here to help you.” 

“Okay.” Malachai said, sounding a tad dejected. Lenora's gaze softened. She reached under one wing and yanked out one of her large secondary flight feathers and placed it in his hand, “It’s yours to keep. For good luck.”

“So soft…” Malachai mumbled, marveling at the feather in his hands. 

“Danke.” Came his soft reply as his hand tightened around the feather. Lenora then joined Leto to the side, letting the boys work on their brother. A few minutes later, Kallium and Erriox arrived carrying a stretcher between them; along with Osteron, an Iron Warrior apothecary. He immediately flew to Cedric’s side. 

“Apothecary Cedric. What’s the diagnosis?” Osteron asks.

Cedric reports the wounds that Malachai has, the words are from memory, as much as they are from assessing him again; he ends with, “... The high level healing potions aren’t working.”

“M’cold again.” Malachai announced to Cedric, blinking up at his brother. He knew that Ramiel was nearby, and as the cold grew deeper he fumbled with the hand not holding the soft feather for the Judiciar. “Wasn’t your fault, Rami.”

Ramiel flinched, moving closer, reaching out and gently holding Malachai’s weakly flailing hand in both of his “I… I don’t…” He really didn’t want to try to have this conversation in front of Osteron, who was quite likely listening closely to what they were saying. 

“Not your fault… Petras’ bastardness. It’s not your fault, what he makes you do.” Malachai murmured earnestly, his bright blue eyes hazy and unfocused, though he was trying valiantly to actually look at Ramiel as he spoke. He paused for a moment, panting shallowly, out of breath before trying to find Cedric - who was desperately trying to keep him alive… Was that his mentor, lurking nearby? No… His coloration was off. But if Cedric trusted him near them, then so would Malachai. “Ced… Cedric. He’s gonna go after the others. I’m… I don’t think I’m gonna make it much further… N’ you gotta conserve the stuff you’ve got for them.”

“If… If you say so, Malachai.” Ramiel answered back, his voice wavering a little, and his eyes shining over-bright with tears that he refused to shed, at least not right now. He was focused on trying to calm and soothe Malachai while the Apothecaries attempted to save his life. He really hoped that they would be able to save him this time. “You’ve got to live, Malachai. You need to properly meet mama. I know that you’ll come to love her, as much as we do now.” 

Malachai’s voice was a shade quieter when he replied,  “I did meet her... Your mutter,… she’s nice.”

Cedric was listening closely to what Malachai had to say, even as he searched through his satchel of supplies. The high level healing potions weren’t working - probably because Malachai did not have enough energy to sustain the healing that he needed. His hands were rock steady, despite the tremors that were running through his body and the rapid flicking of his dorsal fin, and the way the tip of his tail whipped back and forth in high agitation. “The… The others are safe, Mal, I promise.”

“Really?” Malachai asked, a drowsy hopeful smile on his face. He was so cold, but the pain was going away again, which was really nice. 

“Truly, Brother. They… Brother Apothecary Xonfried is teaching the… The rest of your squad basic first aid procedures, and will be going over that for the next few hours. He knows better than to try and interrupt the chief Apothecary while he’s teaching, at least. By the time they’re done, Petras should have calmed down.” Cedric gently lied. There was no way to succinctly explain where and when they were, especially as Malachai was clearly not processing anything very well, or he would have reacted poorly to the Iron Warrior Apothecary who’d arrived. 

Malachai felt some of the tension that he’d managed to hold onto, through the pain, the cold and the slowly encroaching darkness, a smile warming his face as he let his eyes drift shut. Everything was blurry, anyways. “I’m so glad to hear that. Love you both.” His shallow breathing began to slow down, and his hearts were slowing down as well.

“No… No no no no! Not again! Please, Malachai, you need to stay awake! You need… You need to keep fighting, there’s… There’s got to be something we can do to help… Help you heal up!” Cedric growled, frantically dumping out the entire contents of his satchel, grabbing the most potent healing potion he had and lunging towards his brother who Wasn’t Going To Die Again, damn it!

A strong black and yellow striped hand grabbed at his wrist.

Cedric struggled and hissed, lunging at the wrist with teeth bared, about to bite when Osteron’s voice resounded in his ears “Stop, Cedric. Your brother is dead, and you know this as well as I do. Perhaps if he had appeared closer to one of the established bases, we might have been able to save him, but out here? He was too unstable to move, and we don’t have the resources necessary to stabilize him, much less save his life. Giving him that now would only prolong his suffering.” 

A low, furious growl rumbled from Cedric’s chest, and his bright blue eyes darkened with rage as he struggled against the older Apothecary’s iron grip “How dare you! How dare you stop me from trying to save him! You just want to butcher him, take him apart piece by piece in order to see what the differences between Primaris and Firstborn marines are on a physical level!” Cedric lobbed the high grade healing potion at Ramiel, knowing the other would catch it, even as he continued to struggle and hiss at Osteron.

“You are allowing your grief to say things you know aren’t true, Cedric.” Osteron countered, voice low, almost monotone in his lack of open emotion, both in voice and face. Callous, unfeeling bastard traitor!

Ramiel caught the high level healing potion and checked Malachai over, his hearts sinking low. “Cedric…”

“What? Give him the potion! Open his mouth and tip it down his throat if he won’t open his eyes.” Cedric ordered, still thrashing and growling at Osteron, trying to escape the older Apothecary’s grip. 

“His hearts have stopped beating, and he isn’t breathing anymore. He’s still warm, but… He’s gone.” Ramiel murmured, misery, guilt and sorrow warring for dominance in his hearts, tears starting to fall from his eyes. 

All of the fight abruptly left Cedric and he goes limp in the older Apothecary’s grip, his shoulders starting to shake violently as tears began to stream down his face “I failed him… Again…”

Familiar rough hands clasped his upper arms, though he could barely hear Erriox’s stern quiet voice. 

“Cedric… Look at me.”

Erriox nodded to Osteron to let go. 

It took Cedric a moment or two to comply, wrenching his eyes away from his brother's cooling corpse to look at Erriox “Ye-yes?”

His elder cousin’s amber eyes looked back at him, steadfastness and understanding in his gaze, “I know it is hard for you to believe me, but you did not fail your brother. It is not your fault that Malachai arrived here in the shape he was in. It is not your fault that there are no resources here that could possibly stabilize and save Malachai in such a place. That, as well as where he appeared is out of your control. Do not lay that guilt on yourself.” 

Cedric protested, “That last healing potion! That could’ve… It could’ve saved him!” 

Erriox was patient as he refuted his argument, “Cedric. Think about it. Lenora gave Malachai two high grades already with painkillers. And still it did not seem to do anything. You know Osteron is correct. You are familiar with how healing potions work. You’ve seen how it has to draw on the body itself to heal the user’s wounds.”

“That last potion would have killed him. If not right there, then he would have died in transit.” The Iron Warrior apothecary added solemnly, “Considering pain killers were also used, that healing potion would have only caused him more suffering.”

“That’s not… I… Malachai could…” garbled words came out of his mouth as Cedric’s mind attempted to form sentences. He didn’t even register that it was him who was making the wails of grief, only the feeling of his broken heart being crushed by the heavy weight of knowing there were more of his brothers who were unjustly punished and beaten to near death out there somewhere. Malachai wasn’t the only one. If he couldn’t save Malachai, how would he be able to save the others if they found them?

Erriox wrapped his arms around his adopted son, letting the Primaris scout lean into him.

Cedric slowly leans into Erriox at first, before crumbling completely, allowing his papa to hold him as he weeps for Malachai. For his other brothers who had been badly beaten and he can’t help but wonder if any of the others have also appeared on Ancient Terra… But Unlike Malachai, they had not been found, or at least found by no one who would report their injuries, or their death… His hearts ache as he hides his face in one of Erriox’s shoulders, clinging tightly. Why was Malachai brought here, only to die again? It wasn’t fair! 

Ramiel tensed uncomfortably when he heard his brother’s mournful cries, his own tears blurring his vision. If we could’ve found you earlier, Malachai… he let out a shaky breath. Roughly wiping his eyes with his hand, he readies himself to give Malachai his final rites. He still had his job to do. 

Gentle hands patted his arm, making Ramiel look down at his harpy mother and cousin. He leans into her touch as Lenora wipes away more of his tears, “Mama…” he croaked, his throat feeling dry and swollen, choking the words that he wanted to voice. 

“Ramiel… I’m sorry about Malachai…” his mother replied, her tone gentle and sad. Two sets of wings wrapped around him. 

“I’m sorry for your loss, cousin.” Leto added. 

Ramiel sank on his tail and tightly hugged both of them, “It’s all my fault! I should’ve stopped him. Malachai wouldn’t have died like this!” He wept. His hearts hurt so much. 

“Stopped who, Fledgling?”  Lenora asks as she hugs him back.

“... My mentor, back in M42, Chaplain Captain Petras,” Ramiel says, “.... He has… A rather bad temper, and tends to go too far while punishing Primaris marines… Sometimes I was able to convince him to let me take the punishment in my brother's place if I realized he was going too far…. But..”

Lenora’s claws pushed on the back of his head, pressing his forehead against hers, “Then it would have been you who would die in Malachai’s place.” Her voice was full of sorrow. When she released him, Ramiel saw a pained expression on his mother’s face, “Malachai told me how Petras beat him. Punishing him unjustly and excessively for something him and his squad were innocent of. If you took his place, Petras would not stay his hand or be any less heavy-handed in his punishment.”

Leto growled, angry at the injustice, “That Petras is a disgusting sadist! I bet he gets his rocks off beating young mers like that!” 

“Leto… not at this time.” Lenora chided. 

“But it’s not wrong! How could any sort of mentor deal this kind of punishment to the point that even his tail is broken in two places! We all know that is debilitating, especially for a merperson!” The young gannet harpy snarled, her feathers raised in agitation. Ramiel flinches at that, Leto isn’t wrong, Petras could be… deliberate in how far he went. 

“... He’s a Chaplain,” Ramiel mumbles miserably, burying his face into his mother’s feathers in shame, “They are supposed to be the heart and soul of the pod. The Captain and officers the brain, the rest of the brothers the body, sword, shield, and armor.”

“A poisoned heart that is allowed to destroy the body does no one any good and should be replaced- “ she grumbles. 

“You may be right, but that is enough, Leto. Ramiel doesn’t need to hear any more of that.” Lenora scolds the younger harpy. 

Leto’s anger deflated when she saw how despondent her cousin became. She hugged him tightly and murmured, “I’m sorry, Ramiel.”

“S’okay.”  Came his muffled reply. 

Kalium’s voice cut through the air, “Not to hurry things along, but what do you need to do next, Ramiel?”

The young Judiciar straightened back up and wiped his eyes, feeling ashamed that the Iron Warrior mers had seen his moment of weakness, “We need to recover Malachai’s geneseed then conduct his final rites.” 

Cedric held several jars for the geneseed retrieval, “There should be enough containers to retrieve all of Malachai’s organs. Osteron has more if needed.” He says quietly. 

Lenora asked, “Ramiel, would you mind if we give our blessings to Malachai before you do so? It will be quick and then we will get out of your way.”

“Please do.” Malachai wouldn’t have minded anyways.

Lenora knelt by Malachai and pressed a kiss to his forehead, “Son, may Skymother keep you. I pray that you will see your brothers again in your next life, under happier circumstances.” She smiled sadly, brushing away some stray hairs from his face. She then moved over for Leto. 

The gannet harpy plucked one of her secondary flight feathers and placed it in Malachai’s hand. Like Lenora, she kissed his forehead, “May Stormbringer guide you and bring your perpetrator to justice so that he will be punished for his sins. I pray that your soul be vindicated. Rest in peace, Cousin.”

Ramiel was touched by their words. He thanked the two harpies before they left. Lenora nuzzled him, “None of this is your fault, Ramiel. Please remember that.” 

He couldn’t really meet his adoptive mother’s gaze, “I… I will try.”

“I know.” Lenora patted his cheek before paying her farewells to the rest of the group. She then took off with Leto to return to the gannet roost. 

Cedric aided Osteron in preparing the body, his hands going through the motions, pausing for a moment before saying “I am… Unsure how Iron Warriors deal with their dead, beyond removing geneseed and any viable organs for use… But amongst the Black Templars, we cremate them and forge their ashes into blades, which are given to Brothers they were close to. To allow them to continue their Eternal Crusade, despite having fallen in battle.”

Ramiel had finished creating the funeral pyre for Malachai to be put to rest within. He held a jar of the sacred oils of anointment in his hands which were only trembling a little. He helped Cedric and the others carry Malachai’s dead body over to and placed properly within the pyre, murmuring the final prayers given to Dead Brothers as he spread the oil across his brows, chest and tail, finishing with a slightly shaky “As… As the purifying flames of the God-Emperor consume the flesh and souls of the wicked, the xenos and the heretic, His cleansing flames purify the bodies and souls of his fallen warriors. We are kindling to fuel the fires of the Eternal Crusade. The ash of Malachai’s body is to be forged into Blades of Remembrance, to arm his still living brothers, so he may continue to Crusade at our sides.”

Cedric stared into the flames, the acrid scent of burning flesh, of the taste of failure was pungent in his nose and on his tongue. Still, he diligently tended to the fire until all that was left of Malachai was ash and chunks of his larger bones. “We’re going to need a forge, and additional supplies to forge his ashes into blades of Remembrance. We will need to trade for time in the former, and for the supplies for the latter.” He mumbled. He’s not sure what the Iron Warriors will ask of them in payment for this, but from… From his interactions with not-papa, he hopes that they will also be reasonable, rather than opportunistic in their demands. 

He’s heard about a Salamander base, but that is allegedly weeks away, rather than the much-closer Steelix Base. Perhaps they would be willing to trade different kinds of materials? Cedric does have the specific weapons-pattern that the Blades of Remembrance are supposed to be forged into - and they are held as sacred by the Black Templar Chapter… Would the Iron Warriors ask for the weapons-pattern? His hearts churned uneasily at the thought. It would be sacrilegious to do so… But he’s already been consorting with members of a Traitor legion for some time now…

Ramiel stares into the flames, murmuring the prayers to guide Malachai’s soul into the Light of the God Emperor, and to join The Legion of the Damned -those brothers and cousins with souls Fiery and Stubborn enough to Serve, even in Death. He wonders how he and Cedric are going to trade and pay for the time in the Forge- and the specific items required to make the Blade of Remembrance. He’s got the oils, the prayers, and between him and Cedric should be able to make Proper blades, at least two.

Osteron and Kallium had left after Malachai’s body was laid onto the funeral pyre. They decided not to wait around as they had their own duties to tend to, leaving Erriox behind to accompany his two adopted Black Templar sons. 

The Iron Warrior mer was admittedly curious about the funerary rituals of that chapter, though he was quite sure that the Emperor of Mankind was very much a human and not a God in his time. He heard Cedric’s quiet mumble. It was interesting that they forge their fallen brothers’ ashes into weaponry allowing their soul to continue the fight against xenos and chaos. Erriox thought it was a rather smart idea to reuse their Astartes brothers like that, pity the sons of Perturabo hadn’t thought of it first nor had the time to bring that to fruition. He contemplated Cedric’s words then said to him, “I won’t deny that I am interested in your weapons design, but your mother would be disappointed if the sanctity of the funerary ritual for Malachai was treated callously. Steelix Base is not solely composed of Iron Warriors. There is a Salamander cousin who oversees the forges at the base. I can negotiate with him unless you prefer to go to the Salamander base instesd.”

Hearing that, both Templars relaxed a little, “What would the price for that be?” Cedric warily asked. 

Erriox shrugged, “Likely assistance time and materials, but you should ask Korbak yourselves and see if his requests are reasonable or not.”

Ramiel paused in his prayers, saying, “Speaking with Korbak would be most ideal since Steelix Base is much closer to home. If that doesn’t work then we’ll contact the Salamander base.”

“I will get in touch with Korbak then.” Erriox answered, quickly sending a vox message to his cousin. 

Ramiel continues to murmur prayers as Cedric tends to the fire, churning the ashes, to ensure as much of Malachai’s body becomes ash. He coughs a little and closes his eyes briefly before opening them up again.

“Brother Malachai is… was strong of hearts, keen of mind, and zealous in his care of Our Brothers und devoted to Our Cause,” Ramiel begins, hoping his voice isn’t shaking or Cracking with grief. As the … highest ranking Chaplain (in training, and not even a decade into it, at that) it was his duty to start the Tales of Glory. 

He continues on, embellishing (only a little bit) the Greatest Battle he knew of, that Malachai had participated in. Speaking of his valours and triumphs. Of the lessons he’d taught and of the might of his sword arm. After he finished telling all of the Tales of Battle that he knew that Malachai had participated in his voice had gone quiet. He was painfully aware that most brothers who fall can have hours of stories- of many battles.

Ramiel was frantically casting his mind about- they still have a pyre to tend to, ashes to take care of, but he doesn’t recall any more battles or stories that show the Valor, The Honor, the Righteous Fury of his brother (that … doesn’t involve Him or… less than kind First Born Loyalist older brothers and cousins).

“... I-if there are any others who have m-more stories to tell of Malachai,” Ramiel ends, feeling painfully inadequate and like he was failing his brother. Again. “You may speak of them now.”

Erriox noticed a silence after Ramiel prompts for more stories of Malachai. Not surprising, as Malachai died so young, not even four decades old. He inwardly cringes at the thought of how long and tedious such rituals would be for Black Templar Astartes more than three hundred years old. Perhaps he should say something, out of respect, and to support the two scoutlings. Lenora would be pleased for him to do so. 

“I do not know Malachai, but Lenora and I would be glad to have him to join our family had he survived.” A sudden inspiration struck and Erriox continued, “Malachai, once you are reforged, always strike true to the heart of your enemies.”

Cedric quietly listened to Ramiel’s recitation, cognizant of which stories that his brother was choosing not to share - while they showed how brave and stalwart Malachai was, it would also reveal certain… Unfortunate at times inner workings of the chapter to outsiders… And the young Apothecary had been keenly aware of how furious Cousin Leto was over what had happened to poor Malachai… Should she hear the precise details as to why and how he’d gotten so badly injured… He wasn’t sure what she would attempt, but merAstartes were very powerful, and he did not want her badly beaten or killed for trying to avenge Malachai. 

He cleared his throat a little, offering up “Malachai was an excellent leader, among his Brothers. He would do his best to ensure that those who were placed under his command were treated as well as he could manage, and would ensure that they were provisioned with everything they needed for missions.” There. That was both true and probably wouldn’t raise any alarm. Cedric hoped.

If Erriox was suspicious of anything, he certainly didn’t show it. He assisted them in collecting Malachai’s ashes. “Cedric, Ramiel, do you want to take Malachai’s remains home or to the base?” he asked. 

Cedric glanced over at Ramiel, mulling over Erriox's question. “I think… I think I'd rather have his remains at home. At least until we've been able to negotiate for forge time and the supplies we need to create Blades of Remembrance. Rami, how do you feel?”

Ramiel looked down at the containers full of geneseed in his arms, “I… agree. Malachai should stay with us for the time being. If that’s fine with you, cousin.” They won’t have to worry about anybody potentially stealing Malachai’s geneseed and… it would be nice for Malachai to have a place at home with them and be part of their family for however long they could keep his remains. Erriox and Lenora didn’t mind that Catius kept Atlas’ remains at their nest for a long time, before he finally brought Atlas to the geneseed storage at the base. They wouldn’t mind if he and Cedric did the same for Malachai. 

“That’s fine.” Erriox replied, “Let’s get Malachai home then.”

Ramiel ended with a voice full of regret, “I know that you, Malachai, and Mama told me that it’s not our fault, but it’s hard not to blame myself. I had beat him with the electro whip because of my mentor’s orders. Because he is a Primaris, he could take more physical punishment so Honorable Chaplain Petras wouldn’t allow me to stop. I could’ve stopped. I should’ve stopped.” he broke down, painfully reminding the Iron Warrior mer of how young he actually was.

Erriox quietly listened, grimacing from hearing Ramiel refer to his sadistic mentor as “Honorable Chaplain”. It left a bad taste in his mouth. And here he thought that the Iron Warriors were well trained due to trauma. Just how brainwashed were these Primaris marines? He sighed, then answered Ramiel, “You listened to your mentor, but he still beat Malachai until he died. Even if you did stop, he would beat Malachai worse and your brother’s fate would still remain the same. Perhaps worse, he forces you to watch or finish off your brother.” 

“I… suppose.” his adopted son mumbled.

“Some guilt will live with us until the moment we die. No one can truly outrun it, we could only manage it.”

“Did Mama teach you to say that?” Ramiel side-eyed the firstborn Iron Warrior. It definitely sounded like something Lenora would say. 

Checking over his shoulder to see his mate still sleeping, Erriox chuckled slightly, “Something like it.” He then asked him, “What do you know of the Fourth Legion’s history?”

Ramiel recited as his mind recalled the lessons of each legion’s history, “They said the Fourth was under the traitor Perturabo. They were logistically an effective fighting force specializing in siege warfare, but the primarch held little love for his sons. The first thing he did when he met the Iron Warriors was to decimate his own legion. Everything and everybody was a piece to be used, including daemons. They do not worship under any specific chaos god.“

“Enough.” Erriox frowned, shame creeping into the back of his mind. It was no secret that Perturabo hated his sons. They were never good enough, effective enough. However, it was one thing to know the truth himself, but to hear it spoken aloud from someone else’s mouth was disconcerting at best.

Ramiel flinched, noticing Erriox’s darkened expression, “Did I say something wrong?” He asked nervously. 

The Iron Warrior mer let out a sigh and gestured Ramiel to follow him, “No. Come with me. I want to show you something.”

The Black Templar mer followed his firstborn cousin to the work table and watched as Erriox took a small wooden box from the shelf above it. 

“What is it?” Cedric’s sleep-muddled voice asked, “Morning.” He added when the other two turned to look at him. 

“Morning, bruder. I am… speaking with Erroix, you can go back to sleep if you’d like to, Cedric,” Ramiel says.

Cedric shook his head and floated over to the work table, “I want to see what you’re looking at too.”

It was a somewhat plain box with symbols carved along the edges of the lid, closed shut with a simple latch and pin. Ramiel was curious to see what’s in the box- noticing the way Erriox grabs it, solemn and holding it like it contains something painful, or at least holds tokens of painful memories. 

Inside were several talons, large and small, each twined with a few feathers and beads carved from seaglass and shells in aesthetically pleasing bundles. There were also small bunches of feathers tied together in a similar fashion. Three large grey scales likely from another Iron Warrior mer and a small shard of bright blue ceramite armor laid among the talons and feathers. 

Cedric quickly blinked the sleep from his eyes, “Is that from Atlas’ armor?” He asked. 

Erriox confirmed his identification, “Yes, there were several more pieces we had to remove from Atlas’ armor so Catius decided to keep one here.”

Ramiel quickly understood what the box was. He could smell the similarities between the talon bundles and his harpy mother, “These are the remains of those who have died…” he said softly. He noticed there were a fair number of the talon and feather bundles, which worried his hearts with the thought of how fragile and short his Mama’s life was compared to theirs. Ramiel didn’t dare voice that thought though, he didn’t want to further worry Cedric and Erriox. 

The three grey scales caught Ramiel’s eyes. Glancing over to Cedric, he noticed his eyes were pinned on the dried blood on the scales. 

“Are they from your brother?” He asked Erriox carefully, nervous about offending him with his question. 

The Iron Warrior mer took one of the scales out, looking at it with a nostalgic expression, “These scales belonged to my brother and mentor, Rannok. You both know about the decimation of the Fourth.” He looked at the two Scoutlings who nodded, “As a legion, we had to follow as our genefather decreed, not following his orders was out of the question. We were ordered to beat the chosen brothers to death using our bare claws. My brother, Rannok, was unlucky enough to draw the short straw in our group. I took part in killing him. He did not die a quick death.” Erriox became solemn as he put the scale back, “This was all I could recover from him.” 

Erriox looked at his boys, an almost pained expression on his face. It was the first time they’ve seen their scout sergeant/ paternal figure lose his stoic demeanor like this, “You are not alone in feeling this way. The longer you live, the more regret and guilt you will endure, it’s a matter of how well you can move on from it with the lessons you’ve learned.” He let out a bitter huff, “Rannok was a good mentor and a close brother of mine and I helped tear him apart. Even now, there are times I wonder what would happen if I protested, or took his place.”

Both Scoutlings were stunned into silence. They were taught that the traitorous Fourth were callous and unfeeling of their own. Always thinking on how someone could be of use and disposed of if not useful. Not once had they thought that the Iron Warriors would have a sense of brotherhood among them. Not once had they thought about how similar or even worse punishments the other legion went through. They saw that Rannok’s death still affected their Firstborn cousin; this was the first time Erriox openly said anything to them about it. Hearing that story, Ramiel, while still feeling guilty over Malachai, understood what his elder cousin was trying to say and was glad that he was not alone. 

A gentle voice interrupted their thoughts, “Then I don’t think I would have met you in this universe at this time as you are, perhaps.” Lenora sidled in under Erriox’s arm, leaning relaxed against his torso with one wing wrapped around his back. 

“Guten morgen, Mama/Mutter.” The Scoutlings greeted her. 

“Morning, love.” Erriox purred as he shared a loving kiss with his mate. 

“Morning, love.” Lenora replied warmly and nuzzled him. She then turned to Cedric and Ramiel with a kind smile, “Morning, boys. I see Erriox has shown you the box with the remains of our loved ones.”

“Yes, Mama.” Ramiel answered. 

“This box is a way to show that our loved ones, who passed on, still have a place in our hearts and in our home.” Lenora explained, “If you have a part of Malachai you wish to keep here, you can. Like all of your brothers, both of you have access to this box whenever you wish since you are part of our family.”

Cedric and Ramiel felt touched by their adoptive mother’s words. It’s such a beautiful and sincere gesture and it reminded them of the relics that their chapter carried with them. Cedric looked at Ramiel, who nodded. He swam over to his nest and returned holding a small bag containing some of Malachai’s remaining bone shards. Putting the bag into the box, Cedric said, “Malachai, you’re home now. You’re safe here with Rami and I, the rest of our Brothers, and Mama and Papa. Once you’re reforged, we’ll take you to see brother Roland and Arnault and their bonded. You would like them. They are very kind.” Though his hearts remained heavy, knowing a piece of Malachai can remain at home with them, lightened the sorrowful burden. 

“Mama, may I give a blessing for them?” Ramiel asked, not wanting to overstep cultural boundaries and disrespect his mother. She smiled at him, “Of course you can.”

Ramiel smiled back, “Danke.” He poured a little holy oil onto his finger and swiped the lip of the box and then its lid, then spoke reverently, “God-Emperor grant us your blessing. Protect these kind souls who have taken in our brother Malachai. May you always keep them in your golden light.”

“Thank you for your blessing, Ramiel. That was lovely of you to say that.” Lenora said as soon as he was done. 

Both her and Erriox were slightly taken aback when the two Black Templar Scoutlings suddenly hugged them together. 

“Danke. Thank you, Mama, Papa, for allowing Malachai to stay here with us and join your family.” Cedric said in his quiet whisper-purr. 

Ramiel lifted up Lenora so he could nuzzle both his adoptive parents more easily, “Thank you for all the help you’ve given us to take care of Malachai. Danke, thank you for everything.”

Lenora and Erriox shared a quick, but fond smile with one another before replying to their adopted sons, “You will always have our support.”

“You are part of our family, we’re here to help you when you need us."

[horuslupercal]

got asked on the Guilliman post so

How Primarchs Cry (To Me)

Lion: represses and represses and represses and then hides away in a closet squished into the corner like a cat on its deathbed but otherwise cries pretty normally. do not point it out to him. gets defensive if you point it out

Fulgrim: gets headaches from crying so hard. keeps a handkerchief nearby because his face gets all gross. at some point in every hardcore crying session he verbally says, "enough." because it annoys him

Perturabo: trying everything in his power to give off the vibe that he never cries. takes every breath very carefully to make sure it's silent, confidently strides off away from this shit (hides away), etc

Khan: is fine, is fine, is fine, and then he's laying in bed and suddenly has to bolt upright to cry into his hands because holy shit that's sure a wave of emotion. it's okay, it'll pass, but hooooly shit at this exact moment it hurts. doesn't want to be seen but it's not the worst thing in the world if he is

Russ: crawls under Freki and Geri like when they were pups and cries for a good while. at some point he rolls over and runs his hand over his face and then grabs one of his brothers around the neck for a wrestle session and he's either fine or he's fine enough to keep on keeping on

Dorn: goes to a private room, does the "I am in control of my emotions" like Spock in that one TOS episode, and then spins around and puts his fist through the wall. opens the door with a hole in the wall and his hair no longer perfectly coiffed and his face blotchy and red and tells you he wasn't crying

Konrad: either silently weeping or wailing like a banshee. never in between. he doesn't choose which.

Sanguinius: the only primarch who can pretty cry but only up to a certain level. at some point he starts screaming and wailing like a fox caught in a bear trap and doubling over in pain and his hair gets all stuck to his face

Ferrus: throws tantrums. doesn't collapse to the floor like a toddler but does start breaking things. makes fun of the reason for his upset -- the mid-funeral roast session in some au where Fulgrim dies pre-heresy would get him cancelled on twitter because it's the only way he can deal with something that shattering. I'm pretty sure I got that headcanon from @luwupercal actually

Angron: cries for all sorts of reasons. sometimes the nails make him cry, not because they hurt or because he hates them but just because they're directly fucking with his brain chemistry. that's the kind of passive cry where he's crying but it's not an event, it's just his tear ducts doing their thing. used to seek out comfort from his siblings in the pit when he was crying from emotion, now he flips tables and screams

Guilliman: an asthmatic pug caught in a plastic ring. gasping for air, sounds like he's being strangled, the works. sounds like he's dying

Mortarion: also sounds asthmatic, on account of the asthma. his tear ducts don't work right so he doesn't really "cry" so much as hyperventilate and occasionally dry heave

Magnus: the crying is what it is, the psychic crying is the real event. his aura gets real sticky and slow and sad, like syrup, and has a tendency to kind of. contaminate other people with his grief unless he specifically stops it from doing that. I feel like he cries when he's mad, too

Horus: sits down and covers his mouth with his hand and puts his elbow on his knee and cries like that. for some reason I feel like it's especially weird for the luna wolves to see him cry -- it's always weird to see your parent cry, but it's extra weird for them and I'm not sure why. horus sitting on a couch crying with his head in his hands and two luna wolves sending panicked looks at each other 👍

Lorgar: compresses/hugs himself so hard he can't breathe, digs his nails into his skin, etc. we saw in the first heretic that he makes himself physically uncomfortable about grief and that's really stuck with me tbh. doesn't really.... know how to cry without also being in physical pain about it

Vulkan: bows his head and weeps, standing right where he is. weirdly bad at being okay with his own grief specifically -- he'll comfort a brother without issue, but his own makes him feel on edge and sedentary and he needs to move and do something and not stand here being sad, he needs to take action, he can't let it be sticky and slow

Corvus: repression king. he can't cry right now he's too BUSY. fuck this shit. and then there's a trigger and he shatters like a popsicle bridge with too much weight on it. the year of isolation before his departure definitely involved a blanket burrito

Alpharius Omegon: how do they need to cry for this scenario?

[sharenadraculea]

Vampire-au Victorian Edition

I‘m still working on a overview of all the primarchs backstories in this au, so until I finished that, have a castlist of the victorian au!

Konrad Curze: Orphaned street child probally around 12, small time criminal and newly turned vampire. Doesn‘t think much of high society social norms and will continue to ignore them no matter what Fulgrim does. Adjusting to beeing a vampire surprisingly well

Fulgrim: Vampiric socialite and ex-renaissance-painter (They died before their career ever really got off the ground). Trying and failing at not letting the supernatural crazyness around them mess up their live too much, and new parent to a baby vampire. Yes, they love Konrad very much, don‘t let them tell you otherwise.

Magnus Rubeus: Eccentric researcher of about everything. Yes, the science is ethically dubious. It‘s the victorian era, what do you expect? Also a vampire and very old at that. Currently also living in London and thus spending quite some time with his very good friend Fulgrim and newest study subject Konrad

Sanguinius: One of the oldest vampire in the emps/primarch-clan. Currently very busy on travels overseas because damn they need a break and probally won‘t be back for quite a while. Ocean liners and trains are much slower than airplanes after all

Ferrus Manus: Another vampire, another one of Fulgrim‘s very very good friends. Has no idea what to do with high society but also he likes Fulgrim so he‘ll endure some dinner parties from time to time.

N‘Kari: Very wealthy, widowed at least thrice, probally (a little) high at all time and ambiguosly mortal. Fulgrim‘s very problematic Bestie

Sevatar: Konrad‘s friend from when they both lived on the street and a few years older. No, he definetly isn‘t about to commit any famous murders in 1888 London. What makes you think that?

Shang: A stableboy (or some other kind of servant) Konrad ends up befriending. He is just hoping that all this bullshit won‘t get him fired

There are definetly gonna be more characters, Rushal is absolutly going to make a appearence later on and I‘m working on ideas for how to get more Emperor‘s Children Characters in here

[sleepyfan-blog]

Tiny's Mischief

Author’s Note: This is the next fic in the Raised on Terra AU! First. Previous. Next. A big thanks to @undeaddream for letting me borrow their OC VM-5307 “Tiny” For this fic!

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @sharenadraculea @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan 

Warnings: Questionable parenting

Summary: Tiny has a grand time showing its charges around the vent system of the Imperial Palace. They really don’t know what all the fuss is about when they return with their charges to feed them. 

Tiny had been teaching its charges how to understand the binaric clicking and chirping it used to communicate with other beings. The other caretakers were teaching their charges how to speak in Gothic and a handful of other languages popular among the flesh-lovers of the Sol System. All four of it's charges were of high intelligence and had begun to try and mimic the sounds that VM-5307 made in rudimentary attempts to communicate, which had warned the regulatory circuits within the tech Priests' body. Working with infants was always a tricky endeavor, but incredibly rewarding when one saw the progress that they had made, even over a relatively short span of weeks to months. Truly, the human mind - a gift from the  Omnisiah - was a spectacular thing. As its charges were much more mobile than when they had been first introduced to it, Tiny had taken it upon itself to introduce them to its favorite way of getting around the Imperial Palace.

While it was true that unless their growth slowed down significantly, they would become far too large to navigate the Imperial Palace using the ventilation system before they were fully grown, the fact that they knew that there were beings capable of moving around in the vents and would do so was a valuable lesson to learn. Also the tight, twisting pathways of the vents were an excellent way to teach them how to navigate nearly identical looking pathways without getting lost or confused, which was a skill that Tiny was confident that they would need in their lives. 

Tiny was also fascinated by the fact that their personalities were already starting to develop at this age. Seven was generally the quietest of their four charges, and seemed to prefer parallel play with blocks or other building-type games, though the little one had occasionally shown sparks of a mighty temper when his carefully constructed little walls had been knocked down accidentally or otherwise by his brothers. 

Four also liked building things with his hands, though the little infant also took delight in knocking over other's structures - Seven's in particular - and occasionally tried to take Ten's favored stuffed animals when Ten was busy playing or itneracting with one of his brothers. 

Ten had a clear preference for playing with Three, when he was allowed to freely mingle with his brothers, though he was also somewhat drawn to playing with Thirteen as well, if Three was sleeping or otherwise engaged in play and wouldn't pay attention to Ten. Ten also liked eating anything he could fit inside his mouth, whether or not it counted as food for a baseline human being.

Especially rocks. Any kind of rock would do. Even the shining gemstones that adorned the armor of the custodes on guard, although how Ten had managed to rip off one of the smaller gemstones and begin to bite through it before anyone had noticed was beyond Tiny. Ten also liked to build and create things, though given that Tiny had been put in charge of the four Primarchs who were meant to create different sorts of weapons and armor, alongside their capabilities for war and the leading of mankind, this wasn't a surprise. 

Eighteen had proven to be the most gregarious and friendly of Tiny's four charges, often playing with each of his brothers in turn. But he did like to make things as well and seemed to have a strong sense of justice - he very much did not like it when one brother tried to steal toys from another and used his large bulk to enforce the rules as he saw them. 

It was fascinating to see their personalities continue to emerge as they got older. None of them were at the walking stage yet, but they were quite proficient in crawling around and their visual and auditory senses were acute enough for vent surfing to be a viable option. Tiny was mindful to not allow the little primarchs to explore past the wing of the Palace that had been designated for them just yet, as the Omnisiah had decreed. The Primarchs were too young and too vulnerable to be potentially exposed to more of the outside world, even if that outside world was other parts of the palace, according to His Imperial Eminence. 

From Tiny's experiences with little tech priests, he knew that as soon as they could speak and begin comprehending the world around them more fully, they would definitely start to chafe under the incredibly strict supervision that they were being put under, but perhaps the restrictions put in place as they were infants would ease up as they grew older - which it should. Little ones needed time and space to learn, to make mistakes in order to learn and grow properly. While failure was an acrid, bitter thing, learning how to handle failure and frustration from a young age was crucial for one's development, which was why Tiny was sitting back and observing its charges as they crawled around the vent system, trying to find their most preferred toys in spots in the vents that he had placed for them to find.

Eighteen in particular was proving to be quite possessive of his things and disliked being made to share, for all his friendliness and warmth. Eighteen had also found his most favored toy - a small plush dragon and was cuddling it close to his chest, burying his face in the soft material with a happy burble. 

Four was crawling on his hands and knees towards Eighteen, one tiny hand reaching out to grab the dark green and gold dragon toy.

Eighteen spotted his brother and growled, turning away and bodily blocking Four from even seeing the toy.

Four started pouting, lower lip sticking out, tears starting to form in his eyes before both Eighteen and Four heard a squeal from Seven. Both of them began to crawl towards where Seven had managed to wedge himself in the vents, tiny limbs flailing as he attempted to right himself.

Tiny began counting to itself. If the infant didn't manage to free himself by the time they reached one hundred, they would aid the little Primarch in getting free. But this sort of trial and error was excellent for the little ones' development,both in their physical motor skills and their ability to problem solve on their own. 

Seven continued to flail from where he'd gotten himself wedged, starting to successfully pull himself out of the hole he'd gotten stuck in when ten came rushing over as fast as his hands and knees could carry him. SEven grabbed the vabric of Seven's onesie and yanked hard, both of them toppling over and hitting their heads against the bare metal with solid thunks. 

Seven began to hiccup and sniffle near-silently, as he usually did when he cried. Ten laid still for several second before starting to wail and kick. 

Four and Eighteen rushed over to their brothers, sitting down next to them and started to wail in solidarity. The four of theirs crying echoing loudly through the ventilation system.

Tiny let them cry for a minute or two before gathering them up and rocking the still crying babies back and forth, crooning a binaric lullaby that it remembered that its' own caretaker had sung to them when they were very small and the world was so very big and terrifying. They checked the time and sighed, unsurprised not note that it was close to their feeding time. They always got more easily e motional and upset when hungry, a common flaw among fleshed humanity as a whole. Tiny retrieved the other three infants favorite toys and climbed through the vents, their charges secure in their mecha-dendrites. They popped the cover of the vent off in the Primarchs' nursery room and hopped down, charges still securely being held as it went over to the formula dispenser, acquiring a bottle for each of its charges, settling down to feed them.

Half-way through feeding Eighteen - the third to be fed - one of the custodes on guard duty poked their helmeted head into the room and scowled "Where the f-... Where have you been? And your charges! All five of you have been missing for hours!"

Tiny clicked back serenely, the translator servo skull that followed them everywhere whirring to life and interpreting for them [Showing charges vent system, letting them explore and learn more of their surroundigns. Returned before they became hungry. Feeding time, followed by naptime. Quiet voice, if you please.]

The Custodian grumbled something under their breath and left, stomping off.

the strange emotional outbursts of the fleshed were none of Tiny's concern unless they tried to threaten it or its charges, so the tech priest ignored their retreating form as it continued to feed its charges.

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

AU where Erda sticks around and raises the primarchs with Emps and Malc, but Angron still turns out Like That because he's the designated mediator of this whole dysfunctional mess masquerading as a family.

Leman shoving Magnus into lockers again? Angron has to talk him down. Perturabo sieging Dorn's room again? Angron has to convince him to take down the trebuchets. Konrad and/or Sanguinius sobbing in terror over the freaky future visions inflicted upon them by their parents? Angron is the one who dries their tears. Emps and Erda having a screaming fight at Space Thanksgiving over the future of their children? Angron is the one who hustles the rest of the family out of the room and calms them down.

Finally he snaps and just takes off for the Ghoul Stars with his legion and their supporting crews. The Heresy starts five years later.

[imagineherbrightskies]

Chapter one of this odd AU

Ishone did not agree with her lady’s methods but who was she to disagree with the Lady of the World Eaters. She seemed fairly close with the Crimson witch that had appeared before them, they spoke a strange tongue which she could not understand but it was very evident that her Lady was very distraught about the current situation. Gentle cooing noises could be heard from the small bundle in her lady's arms as she surrendered the bundle into the crimson witches arms. Tears flowed freely from her Lady’s face as she said her farewells to the tiny babe that hadn't a clue that this would most likely be the last time they would see each other, she hadn't even seen her father who had deemed it too painful to even look upon her. They could only hope that she’d have a better life in the care of this woman, but for now she’d remained hidden. Safe.

Tears flowed down Nyla’s face as she silently walked down the halls of the Conqueror with her child that was barely two months old, 2 months was the time she was allotted to spend with her child, The Emperor had ordered a meeting with Angron on Terra. It made Angron apprehensive, as if his ‘father’ suspected something. He ordered Nyla to get rid of the child, those words alone pained the both of them. She had only just named their child and yet here she was being forced to dispose of her, her pained cries echoed throughout the Conqueror. Yet her cries fell on deaf ears, as she paced around the child’s nursery, Thought after thought trying to figure out how to insure her daughter safety when a thought comes to mind, a very old memory resurfaces and she hastens to her chambers. As she arrives at her chambers, she clambered underneath her bed trying to reach a very old box that had been gifted to her in her teenage years. It was gifted to her by her grandmother who instructed her to only open it in the most dire of circumstances. She felt this was dire enough, and opened the dusty velvet box.

Inside contained only a peculiar piece of parchment with some words written in an Ancient Terran Language, “Pomôž mi” Nyla read aloud, she had no idea what it meant but her grandmother had taught it to her in the instance she’d need to use the box.

The crackle of shattering glass could be heard as a woman walked through a portal right inside her chambers aboard the Conqueror. Nyla stared in awe at the women in front of her. How had this woman done it? Nevermind how she had done it, how had she evaded detection both by her husband and his legion of soldiers? “You called?” the woman said softly with an accent that reminded her of Kharn.”y-yes please my daughter…” Nyla trailed off, was she really about to give her daughter to a woman who somehow appeared to her in the middle of the warp. Did she really have a choice? “I am a trusted friend of your family. You can tell me whatever you need.” The lady said gently consoling her.

Just as Nyla was going to plead to this woman for her to take her daughter to safety, Ishone, her handmaiden, walked through the door “ My Lady the Lord Primarch ordered me to check up on you…” she trailed off as she looked at this crimson witch that seemed to be from her outlook seducing her into giving away her child. Just as Ishone is about to run away to alert the Lord Primarch and the Astartes about what she witnessed, Nyla scrambles up from her knees and hurriedly pulls Ishone into the room. “Please I beg of you, Do not alert anyone. She can see Gwenni into a new life! A better one… with better parents..” Nyla sobbed and pleaded with Ishone. Nyla did not do this without a heavy heart but this felt like her only choice as she was not leaving her daughter on some random imperial planet and she definitely wasn't letting her so called “brothers” dispose of her. Ishone reluctantly stayed swayed by the desperation in Nyla’s voice. “What do you need of me, my lady?” Ishone said, resolving to stay by her lady’s side in her darkest hour. “Give me the courage to do what I must.” Nyla sniffled “Please bring Gwenni here Ishone.” Nyla ordered before turning back to the Crimson lady, “What is your name? What is your connection with my family?” She inquired, wondering about the history of the women in her family.

“My name is Wanda Maximoff,I met your grandmother as a 20 year old coming into her powers, it was an accident of course but nonetheless it took me a bit to figure out how to get back home again and in the meantime your grandmother gave me shelter in a strange universe i knew nothing about. She taught me the dangers of your universe, and I helped make your settlement a little safer. As soon as I was able to master my power that had gotten me to this universe and go back to my home universe I promised her if she ever needed any help just to call for me and I would return immediately.” Wanda explained, leaving out the detail of what her powers were as she knew the people of this universe distrusted chaos magic, With good reason to. “Your daughter Gwenni? May I perhaps ask why you need to hide her?” Wanda asked cautiously, being careful to not upset Nyla anymore than she already is.

Nyla nodded as she gathered her thoughts before speaking “My husband… he is a primarch, a sort of prince you could say to the emperor of mankind. Although he more so views his sons as tools rather than sons so anything that humanizes his sons too much is deemed a distraction, it was a miracle that our marriage was even allowed in the first place. We both knew though that a child would be seen as a distraction and maybe even an affront to him. My husband recently had gotten an order to return to Terra for a meeting and we both fear that he’ll find Gwenni and take her away or worse…” she trailed off. “Which is why my husband demanded I dispose of her but I couldn't just leave her on some Hive world so she could live a life of struggle and hardship, where she may not even make it to her first name day… so please I beg of you, take my daughter..”

Wanda nodded grimly, from her brief time here during her 20’s she could see that the imperium was no place to raise a child. “If that is what you need then I shall fulfill your request.” Just as they finish talking, Ishone comes back with Gwenni.” Here you go my lady.” She gently places a cooing Gwenni in her arms all wrapped up in a scrap of her father’s cloak. It was obvious Angron was acutely feeling the loss of his daughter as well. Despite not wanting to look upon her for fear of heartbreak, Heartbreak had found him nevertheless. The scrap of fabric had Nyla breaking into tears once more as she realized Angron had finally recognized Gwenni as his. She quickly ran over to her jewelry box and pulled out her only necklace and gave it to Wanda “ Please let her know we loved her very much and that as much i wanted us to be a family, it just simply wasn't meant to be” She kissed her baby’s soft forehead for the last time, tears spilling on Gwenni’s forehead and rolling down. “May we see each other in another life my little dragonfly…” Nyla reluctantly handed Gwenni to Wanda and watched as they both disappeared into a portal that vanished as soon as it came.

[the-wayward-arc]

in the parental primarch au, did weiss ever met fulgrim

Yes! Eventually. Does she know he's a giant snake demi God? No. Will Fulgrim ever tell her? Not a chance.

[cursed-40k-thoughts]

I know this probably isn't the place for it, but consider:

AU where the known Primarchs got adopted by the Autobots after Primus went for the Emperor's lab, seeing the Bad Parenting before it happened & trying to send them to the Interex. He had to fight the Chaos Gods though, and then Emps showed up & things got worse. In all the chaos (heh), most of the Primarchs got yeeted at Fortress Maximus.

-Ratchet and Thicket (Mort) making Nurgle bang his head against a wall all the time because his diseases keep being cured.

-Sideswipe & Sunstreaker getting the Twins and doing a Mild Amount of Tomfoolery.

-Forgefire (Vulkan) working with Wheeljack & discovering his Perpetuality in the process.

The possibilities are near-endless.

Perturabo gets adopted by Unicron and invents the most illegal and dangerous planet-sized Roomba you’ve ever laid eyes on

[howlingday]

How about the glorious, god emperor of mankind as asshole uncle who is a the best leader but sucks as a parent and uncle

Ah, a fine choice... for a corpse on a throne

The God-Emperor of Mankind would be an interesting choice, but sadly does not meet the requirements for Jaune's Family. However, there is the Jaune the Lost Primarch AU if you'd like to indulge in RWBY Warhammer crossover pieces.

[profilozof]

Can we have more headcannons of your one AU with Ruby and Isha?

Sure, so:

1. The whole au takes place over 7 years in the garden, or 7 miliseconds before Mortarion briefly kills mister Robust Govenor and Big E sets Nurgle's garden on fire.

2. Isha entering materium and Ruby being her saviour quite literaly echos across the galaxy, as in roses became a great way to stay off the plague, some Eldar who are actually good people being freed from Slaneash (we will talk about it later), Harlequins sliping during their performances, the harmful mutations going down significantly, Ynnead becoming more active/aware/born, the shards of the shards of Eldar Pantheon becoming recoverable, Big E nose no longer iching, etc.

also they exit on the battlefield that Guliman and Mortarion were dueling... With an crusade worth of people including...

3. Leman Russ, who is also first L in RILL(lilly) who also was stuck fight on the doorstep of Nurgles mansion, not captured but also not being able to move forward. He also can turn into giant wolf deamon form, kinda like Corvus. He basicly carries the team when Ruby is spent.

4. Our divine and semi divine trio picks up the [REDACTED] before the full team frees basicly every single person that was stucked in Nurgle's garden i.e. a 2 craftworlds worth of eldar who wanted to free mom, the space wolves who followed Leman, a lot of unfortunate people who got droped there during the warpstorms including the regiment from the Rebelion of the Men of Iron and Zwei.

5. I decided to make Isha fight Nurgle during the final battle at the gates of the garden, because while Ruby is busy melting said gate with her silver eyes, Leman and [REDACTED] are busy fighting off 6 of Nurgles Exalted Greater Deamons and comabined force of man and eldar are desprertly to slow down 66% OF ALL NURGLE DEAMONS, Isha is showing that she is the Veteran of the War in Heaven and firstborn daughter of Khaine. Imagine said fight as pro Souls-like player fighting the final boss, naked, with first level character. All of that buys Ruby enough time to break the gate and free everyone

6. AND THEN SLANNEASH apears and tries to eat exhausted Isha to which Ruby responded by setting her whole being body and soul on fire and light up like a silver astronomican for a briefest of moments causing She who thirst to hasitate, thus making sure that Isha will have time to flee. Isha decided to not abandon Ruby and decided to risk her whole existence to save her daughter saviour and Slanneash looked her in the eyes and flinched (and with that lost her claim on those eldar who were similar to Ruby i.e. exodites, craftworlders who weren't dicks).

7. Isha healed Ruby via adopting her, as in Ruby becomes the same being that OG Eldaneash and Ulthanesh were (in this au, semi divine twins of Isha and Kuranos). So basicly Eldari primarch except love by their divine parent and geared for the WiH and not Great Crusade. Ruby is not a full fleadged diety (yet), but she is an ironicly asocieted with mental health to Isha's physical health. Among other things.

[tlatia-the-radiant]

Hello! This is the person behind the blog speaking out of character!

I want to start this by saying that this blog is NOT endorsed by the original creator of Tlatia, one Brother Dougal on the Bolter and Chainsword forums. I sent them a message and they still have not responded to me as I'm writing this post, one week after I originally messaged them. (Update: It's been like two months. Still no response.) (Second Update, as of 19 Feb. 2024: It has now been several months. Still no response.)

I am, however, trying my best to keep this in-line with Tlatia's characterization and the Dawn Legion's lore as I understand it. Obviously, I don't have all the details, but I'm trying my best. If you want lore, just ask; I'm more than happy to explain!

This post is the organisation for the Dawn Legion that I work with.

A few quick rules before going further.

Yes, I am fine with NSFW stuff, if you DM me and ask first. I promise I will not look down on you for asking.

Caveat to me being fine with NSFW stuff; certain characters are taken or are otherwise unavailable, and some of them have defined sexualities. If you're not sure, feel free to ask.

Please don't kill my characters without clearing it with me first. My lil girls are soldiers, and sometimes they may die, but I want to have a say in that.

Please don't godmode. If you need my characters to do A Thing, message me about it. I know I have a problem with godmoding; it's something I'm working on. If you feel I'm being too restrictive please tell me. I promise, tell me how you want the story to work out and we can work towards it together.

I am diagnosed with ADHD and on occasion you can really tell. If I make a formatting mistake, that's why. I can barely remember to tag things sometimes.

If you find that what I do just isn't for you, feel free to unfollow me, block me, whatever you want. You curate your experience, not mine, and vice versa.

This blog is run by a sapphic bisexual trans woman with a complicated gender. If you have issues with any of that—leave now and only come back once you're a better person.

With that out of the way: Tagging!

I tend to fast-reblog a lot, so not every post will be tagged.

"Tlatia Answers" is the ask tag, for all that good dialogue.

"Chronicles of the Lost Legion" is the writing tag, for any short stories I decide to post. This is where you'll get the deeper Dawn Legion lore and see how Tlatia reacts in modern 40k canon.

"Stories of Lost Time" is also a writing tag, but for 30k instead of 40k. These stories will be about what Tlatia was like before she left the Imperium; her life, her actions, the actions of her siblings, and so on. You might even catch glimpses of her love life if you look hard enough.

"Hope Springs Eternal || Warmaster AU" is the tag dedicated to, well, the Warmaster AU created by the wonderful @kcnhub. Aurelius, Primarch of the Second Legion, returns and retakes his mantle as the Warmaster. Naturally, shenanigans ensue, and since Tlatia is both the sibling he's closest with and completely unrepentant about abandoning the Imperium she has rather complicated feelings about this. Trust me, it's good.

"A Better World || Real Life AU" is my tag for the Real World universe that @warpcursed, @kcnhub and myself developed. In it, the Primarchs are all DnD characters developed by veterans as a method of dealing with their trauma. Tlatia is Tanya Farou, a former JTF2 combat medic who received the Victoria Cross for taking four bullets while treating wounded soldiers and only passing out after the fourth bullet broke her arm.

"Sunlight in Darkness || World of Darkness AU" is the tag for whenever, instead of 40k, we're writing about the World of Darkness (you may know it from Hunter: the Parenting or Vampire: the Masquerade). Tlatia becomes Tia, a Redeemer Hunter that managed to charm a Toreador into trying and eventually succeeding in reaching Golconda.

"Sight of the Singer" is my reblog tag. These are usually unrelated to the Dawn Legion and are instead me gushing over friend's writing.

"OOC Housekeeping" is what it says on the tin; blog maintenance and IRL updates and whatnot. (If I have any major delays in addressing your stuff, I'll try and post why under this tag. I'm a college student. It'll happen eventually.)

"Banter" is for any snippy back-and-forth with other RP blogs. It'll be less canon-driven and more meme-filled, and how the conversations happen might not make a whole lot of sense, but it's still RP, so I'll still keep it true to Tlatia's character. Mostly.

"NSFW" is self-explanatory. It's anything about sex or non-medical nudity. (Some of my characters are medics, so medical nudity may come up; it'll never be explicit beyond vague descriptions like "chest wounds".)

This post will be updated as this blog evolves.

For the Dream, the Outcast, and the Emperor!

[sharenadraculea]

Planetswap-AU Outline!

Finally manged to finish the backstory-outlines for my planetswap-au!

I Lion El‘Johnson (Olympia): The tyrant of Lochos received a vision that a child from the sky would take his throne and so he ordered his servants to kill the infant. But instead they gave the baby to a huntress, who went on to raise him as a girl. Many years later she meets Calliphone, the princess of Lochos who ran away, and while they slowly fell in love, they started planning the revolution. 

III Fulgrim (Barbarus): Beeing captured by the tyrannical overlord Necare, Fulgrim spent his whole life in a tower on the highest mountain of Barbarus. While beeing forced to work for Necare, the toxic atmosphere slowly but surely did irreversible damage to his lungs. When the Emporer finally came to Barbarus, Fulgrim was closer to death than live, and even after leaving the planet, he is in dire need of medical treatment.

IV Perturabo (Baal Secundus): Perturabos pod was found by the mutants living in the desert and they raised him as one of their own. And seeing their suffering, he wanted to help. And he managed to, building houses and trying to improve medicine. 

V Jagathai Dorn (Inwit): The young Jaghatai was found by the patriarch of the house Dorn. Growing up amongst the feuding houses he soon learned the in and outs of both politics and polite society and became a master of artic warfare. It didn‘t take long for him to conquer the whole world and so he set to the stars, soon having taken over the whole of the Inwit-cluster. 

VI Leman (Prospero): After landing in the desert of Prospero, the planets psykic jackels led the infant to the city of Tizca. Roaming it‘s streets, Leman finally found a home in the cities great library. He learned the place of every book and despite beeing of great help to the people of Prospero, he always felt like a outsider due to his inability to use magic. 

VII Rogal (Cthonia): Rogal was found by one of Cthonias many gang-leaders, who quickly came to treat him as her own son. As the young primarch grew up, he realized what his mother was actually doing and in a fit of rage accidentally killed her. Terrified of what he did, Rogal ran away and hid out until the emporer arrived. 

VIII Konrad (Caliban): There are many strage creatures in the depth of Calibans forest and one of them is the Lady of the Lake. As beautifull as she is deadly and often accompanied by the Watchers in the Dark, she may help those mortals brave or foolish enough to seek her out. But if they are deemed unworthy, they may loose their heart to her. 

IX Sanguinius Khan (Chogoris/Mundus Plannus): Raised by a tribal leader, Sanguinius had a happy childhood until his father was killed by a enemy tribe. Gathering his own army, he set out for revenge and once he tasted blood, there was no going back. With both fear and diplomacy he united the warring tribes of the steppe, attracting the attention of the planets empires who soon managed to capture him. The day of his supposed execution, he killed the local emporer and fought his way back out, soon taking over the whole planet. 

X Ferrus Manus (Terra): Ferrus was raised by the Emporer himself or more accuratly, it was Malcador who did most of it. He traveled the stars ever since he was young and no, the Emporer definetly did not loose a teenage Ferrus, leading to him slaying a necron construct which coated his arms in living metal. 

XII Angron Guilliman (Macragge): Angron was raised by loving parents and had a very happy childhood. Thanks to his empathy-powers he came to greatly care about regular humans and so started to improve live for everyone. He also introduced proper democracy to Ultramar and started adopting every stray cat he meets. 

XIII Roboute (Deliverance/Lycaeus): Roboute grew up in the shadows, always hiding from the prison guards and helping prepare the slaves for the revolution. But it didn‘t work forever and he was caught. The sadistic guards were fascinated by the strange boy who was too big and healed too fast. But even after he escaped and the revolution suceeded, Roboute would never be the same again and still struggles to speak. 

XIV Mortarion (Colchis): When a especially bad drought hit Colchis, multiple children were sacrificed to their god of nature. Little Mortarion was the only one to return, no longer human and never to grow up.

XV Magnus the Red (Nocturne): Nocturne has always been a unstable planet, the myriad of vulvanos and lavafields forcing it‘s inhabitants to constantly move. The young Magnus soon realized that he had the power to controll both fire and the earth itself. He learned how to fight the planets vulcanos and turned the deathworld into a much more hospitable place. 

XVI Horus (Nuceria): Horus was lucky: the high-rider who found him decided to keep him instead of throwing the child into the figthing pits. He grew up in luxury and later used his influence not to improve live for everyone but to have good time, doing drugs and playing gladiator. To him it was just a game, afterall he is a primarch, he wouldn‘t loose. 

XVII Lorgar (Medusa): Lorgar grew up in a secluded monestary high in Medusas mountains. As she got older, she realized that she is not a man, which led to her beeing kicked out of the monestary. Wandering the lands she had to learn who she actually is and find a more healthy relationship to her religion,

XVIII Vulkan of the Russ (Fenris): Vulkan was found by a young dragon, who miraculously didn‘t kill the infant, instead taking care of the young boy. As he got older, his interest in humans grew until he decided to join the nearby human village. Quickly discovering his talent as a smith and warrior -as well as a love for everything shiny- he became the leader of his people.

XIX Corvus Corax (Chemos, kind of): Corvus landed on the planet of Chemos, but they didn‘t stay there for long: harlequins found the infant wandering about and after a bit of godly intervention accepted the infant as one of their own. They learned the harlequins dances and stories, how to use eldar weaponery and about Cegorachs mysterious plans as they travelled the webway. And for the story to advance, they need to leave their adoptive family… at least for now. 

XX Alpharius and Omegon (Nostramo): While they landed on a absolutly horrible planet, they were together. Speaking a language only the two of them can understand, they did their best to survive as so many street urchins did, and maybe improve that hellhole of a planet.