#primarch wives

[egrets-not-regrets]

This is so cute!

When your Husband is extremely tall, no nosense man, so you have to use work related issues to pspspsps him to your kissing level 😂

God I love these two so much...

[candyswirls]

Hi! Can I possibly get a one shot of Ferrah and Mortarion after they ascend as daemons? Particularly Morty trying to comfort Ferrah but it's extremely angsty and whatnot?

"It's okay," Mortarion soothed. "It's alright."

"No, it's not!" Ferrah sobbed.

Murky tears streamed down blistered cheeks. He tried resting his hand on her back. He smacked it away. Wet snapping sounded with it, and her arm bent oddly.

"Look at me!" She yelled. "I look like I've been out in the sun for days!"

"I think you're beautiful," Mortarion said softly.

She snapped, "I don't care what you think! You thought selling yourself to that giant pus toad was a good idea!"

She fell to the ground, breathing heavily. Dust flew in and out of her airways.

"You dragged me into this..."

"Would you rather my sons and I die?" He inquired.

She let out a harsh sob.

He moved to try and comfort her again.

"Yes..." She uttered. "Yes, I do. Then you would have died still a good man. You would have died for something. I hate this. I hate you right now."

"It was the best choice," he insisted.

She whipped around, and milky white eyes met his own, "You've turned into him. You've turned into Necare. I don't want to see you right now. Get out."

She went back to lying on the floor, crying. The plaguelord reluctantly listened to his wife, slinking out and letting decay eat at his broken hearts.

[duchessdollmace]

imagine if the one of the primarchs was horrendously down bad for you, the fucking dream

[incrediblethirst]

What is Hephexia doing in 40k? Well with Vulkan MIA she's mostly been cooped up on Prometheus/Notcurne as the Salamanders are ever more protective of their Legion Mother. However the second she learns about the black dragons and theyre potentially a sucessor chapter to the Salamanders, she is defending them with her LIFE. Those are HER wierd mutant sons and don't you fucking dare touch them.

Poor Guilliman getting bombarded with correspondence from her threatening to raise all kinds of hell if the inquisition makes a move on her new (to her) sweet precious boys.

"Lord Guilliman if they even THINK about declaring my sons to be heretics, then I swear on Vulkans left nut you will personally learn new meanings of heresy and chaos."

[nereidof40k]

Okay, here’s some actual Valentines content. Featuring Konrad Curze, though. Actually a bit of a follow up to the Konrad Curze to the rescue snippet.

One thing that always happened during the Great Crusade was meetings. They were mostly incredibly boring. Sanguinius hadn’t expected this to be any different. If a bit bloodier. It was the Eighth, after all.

But there, across the table, seated on Konrad’s lap, was a beautiful redheaded woman, richly dressed and apparently heavily pregnant. Fulgrim couldn’t have done better. Almost overshadowed the fact that Konrad’s hair actually looked clean and recently brushed.

She chuckled at the Angel’s flabbergasted expression. “Bat got your tongue?” He wasn’t going to ask why she flicked her gaze to Sevatar when she said that. Asking about Night Lord business always made Sanguinius wish he hadn’t asked.

Konrad shifted his grip protectively around his wife. “She stays with me where she’s safe and protected.”

She eyed a Blood Angel who was trying to reach for her. “I have to warn you, my husband bites.” Completely calmly, like she was talking about the weather. Then she turned around to press a kiss to Konrad’s cheek.

A little hysterically, Sanguinius wondered if she could shut up Lorgar as effectively. Pretty much everyone was stunned silent at Konrad acting like a protective, loving husband.

Just as he was about to try to continue the meeting, the door opened and a blonde woman with Nostraman black eyes slipped in.

Sanguinius’ eyes widened till they nearly popped out of his head when he saw the huge black wings on her back. What…how? He was as sure, as you can be with perfect recall, he hadn’t done anything with any Nostraman women, so how did he have a daughter? And where had she been? Why didn’t he know?

He made a noise like a strangled goose when she glided right over to Sevatar, greeting him warmly with a passionate kiss and sitting on him. Too frozen with shock to go feral on the First Captain for touching his child. No wonder he had commented previously about his wife looking like Sanguinius. Why didn’t he tell him? At least she looked happy and healthy…did she even know he was her father?

Konrad smirked at Sanguinius’ face. Hoping Talos had gotten that on helmet cam. Life was good with his love in his arms. Her giggles at the whole situation music to his ears. He’d burn entire worlds to make her laugh like that.

[druidwolf21]

Ambush

A silent sister struggles when her vows to the sisterhood comes into conflict with her own morality.

When push comes to shove, will she uphold her promises, or will she turn her back on her order ?

I hope you enjoy this short story introducing my OC Cala!

(if it's not clear, everything in italics is sign language)

TW: canon typical violence.

Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @lemon-russ

Cala crouched low, her shoulder pressed against the frosted stone of the cliff side as she peered into the cave, drawing the golden power blade from her back. Gauntleted fist wrap tightly around the hilt, she waved across the entrance to the other side of the cliff, gesturing to her sister in thoughtmark as she signed.

Cultists located. Reports suggest at least 5 hostages, multiple signs of chaos incursions, high possibility of ritual preparation.

She paused, cocking her head as she listened, before brushing her tawny braid back over the obsidian black of her pauldron.

Your orders, Hestia?

Her battle sister drew an axe and hefted the weight in her hand, Red hair streaming behind her as she raised her hand.

Purge the area, burn the taint from the earth, leave none alive.

Cala froze, ice wind whipping her hair and biting her skin as a frown creasing across her chilled face.

The civilians?

She could feel Hestia's scowl, despite the gorget that concealed her face.

Grant them the emperor's mercy.

Without a second glance, Hestia barreled forward, snow exploding around her as she charged, axe arcing through the air as it cleaved into a cultist. Blood sprayed across the snowy floor in a scarlet bloom as his body hit the floor, detached head following suit soon after.

Hissing, cala sprung up. The metal sung as her blade carved through flesh and bone, electricity dancing across the honed edge as she turned and twisted.

Their enemies dropped one by one as the sisters worked, spinning through the cave in a grim, silent dance. Cultists submitting to blade and bolter, climbing over their own dead in a frenzied rage to claim the glory of felling a silent sister, only to join their fallen brethren in a crumpled heap of shredded sinew. Over and over and over.

Until silence fell.

With a sickening crunch, Cala ripped her sword free from its gory prize and slowly turned. Ruby rivulets collected in small pools and dripped from the walls as she surveyed the aftermath.

Hestia stood a few feet from her, golden armour now flecked with splashes of ichor as it glinted in the dying Torchlight.

Ritual site.

She signed before gesturing to the ground beneath her feet. Arcane sigils, gouged deep into the stone, pulsed faintly with a deep violet light before sputtering and fading.

Demons?

Hestia nodded, kicking at the twitching corpse before her before kneeling.

Filthy heretics.

Reaching out, she wrestled a data slate from the cultists hand. Cold blue eyes trailing across the screen before she tossed it across to Cala.

Another ritual site, sweep this area before moving out.

Cala flicked her blade, discharging the current as she motioned to sheath it before she stilled. Glancing at her sister she followed her gaze to the back of the cave as a muted whimper echoed softly across the chamber.

Nodding to Hestia, she reached out, grasping a torch and wretching it from its bracket before tossing it into the shadows.

The baselines flinched at the flames as the shadows writhed and retreated, their eyes wide as they beheld the gore soaked women before them.

"sisters?"

A man shielded his eyes as he rose groggily to his feet, eyeing the pair cautiously before a smile cracked across his face.

"The emperor has blessed us this day! The sisters have come to rescue us!"

He reached down and began pulling others to their feet, shaking their shoulders and laughing as they stood. An elderly couple clutched each other, tears pricking their eyes and a woman clambered to her feet, hugging a child to her as she smiled.

"The sisters are here to-"

The man paused, mouth moving silently before collapsing forward as a bullet shattered through his skull.

Hestia stood behind him, smoke still twisting from the barrel of her bolt pistol before turning its muzzle on the others. The old woman screamed as her husband fell, her hands clutching the wound on his chest as blood pumped between her fingers.

"WHY? WHY WOULD YO-"

Bang

Her cries falling silent as a round found it's mark between her eyes.

Hestia finally stood before the young mother. Her knuckles white as she clutched her offspring desperately.

"please stop, please, she's just a child"

Cala stepped forward, her fingers catching the glowing muzzle of the bolter and tilting it upwards. Furious eyes met her own as she stood between her officer and the wailing woman.

No more.

She glanced down, the wide eyes of the girl meeting her own, pupils wide and tears streaming down her face.

I cannot watch you kill an innocent.

Hestia scowled, her mouth down turned behind her cage gorget as she wretched the gun upwards and grasped Cala's shoulder.

Then don't look.

Shoving Cala aside, the commander realigned her gun and fired.

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Cala sucked the cold air between her teeth as she stepped in line with her sister, brown eyes downcast as they left the cave behind them.

You will learn, sister.

She looked up, stopping as Hestia stood before her placed a hand against the golden aquilla emblazoned across her chest.

Those touched by chaos can be returned to the emperor's grace in death.

Releasing her, the woman turned and carried on, her bolter bouncing at her hip with each step.

Do not spare them your thoughts, we execute his will, nothing more.

Staring at the golden back of her officer, Cala sighed, casting a last glance back towards the cave before following.

The snow was piling high, muting their steps to a soft crunch as they approached the overpass. The ravine below them eerily silent as they crouched and surveyed. At the end of the deep passage, a purple hue flickered off the crystalline ice, dancing along the walls before dissipating into the frigid air.

Guards, Acolytes and tzaangors.

Cala tossed her binoculars across the Hestia, pointing to a crevice in the opposing wall, hidden well behind a curtain of icicles. Shifting behind the ice, huddled with weapons in hand, was the faint distorted shape of the falcon headed demons, skin pale and pearlescent, even against the white sheen of the walls.

They must be expecting an attack, we should remain cautious. Immunity to demonic possession and the warp is NOT immunity to claw and bolt.

Cala nodded, eyes fixed on the gorge as a flash caught her eye. Taking back her binoculars, she trained her sights to the mouth of the valley, twisting a small bronze dial until they came into focus.

It's not us they are expecting, sister.

Passing the lenses back, she watched as surprise flickered across Hestia's face.

Astartes? And Space wolves no less.

She rose to her feet, brushing snow from her greaves.

It makes no difference, our mission is clear, if they join us at the ritual site, we can accept their help, otherwise, allow them to deal with any stragglers.

Cala rose to join her, gesturing furiously.

There is an ambush, sister! We need to warn them.

They are the emperor's angels, if they fall to the demons, they are not deserving of that title.

Cala blaunched, blinking dumbly as Hestia strode towards the encampment, preparing to drop in from above. Stepping after her, she grabbed her shoulder guard, spinning the older woman to face her again.

Sister! We need to tell them! If they survive, they can help us prevent a summoning, we need to-

Hestia grabbed Cala's hands, metal grinding under her tight grapes.

Enough! How would you even warn them? They will not notice you up here. We have our duty, cease this at once!

Icy eyes stared into Cala's as they stood in tense silence. Fat lazy flakes drifting down and settling into the creases of black and gold vratine armour.

I will not sit idly by.

Wretching her hands from the iron grasp, Cala spun and sprinted, diving from the edge and skidding down the rocky slope. Behind her, she could hear the pounding steps of her brethren following her rapid descent.

Waving her hands furiously in the air as she stumbled and skidded before hitting the bottom, she sprinted towards the approaching pack. The Marines stature growing larger as they walked to meet her.

AMBUSH, CHAOS DEMONS, ARM YOURSELVES

The leader raised a fist, hailing their approach. Thick fur rippled around his shoulders as the yellow of his sigil glinted with the motion as the unit halted behind him.

"Well met sister, we did not expect to see imperial agents out here"

DANGER, HERETIC, TRAITORS.

The captain's visor flashed as he cocked his head, amused as Cala flailed her hands.

"does anyone understand this?" He queries, turning to his men. He was met with a resounding grumble and nonchalant shrugs as they looked amongst each other.

Throwing her hands up in frustration, Cala turned, hopeless as she watched Hestia slow to a stop, having finally caught up.

They don't understand!

Hestia shrugged, eying up the space wolf before answering.

I told you it was a waste of time, next time, listen to me before wasting everyone's time.

The space wolves began to shift, uncomfortable with the silence that sat heavy around them. The captain hefted his bolter and stepped forward, the Ceremite boot sinking into the churned slurry as he stepped around the women.

"sisters, we will be taking our leave, join us, or do not, emperor protects"

The wolves began to step around the silent warriors, emotionless helms turning to stare at them as they passed. Cala jumped forward, pressing her fists into the captains chest, her feet sliding beneath her from the exertion as she gestured up at the cliffs.

STOP, STOP.

Hestia reached out, grasping her wrist and pulling her to side, nodding to the captain as he grunted and passed, heading towards the ritual encampment.

Towards the ambush.

Panic rose in her throat as a gun barrel snuck between the ice, it's sight trained on the shimmering grey of the captain's head, each step taking them closer to a dishonorable demise.

The grip on her wrist became excruciating, Hestia's eyes boring into her as her body trembled.

Motion at the end of the gorge, the camp was alerted as Acolytes and horned demons emerged from the shelter of their base. At their head, a bald man, garbed only in a stained loin cloth and the twisting glyphs carved into his skin, a staff raised high over his head as he shrieked.

Rifles and chain swords raised as the wolves howled, baying for heretic blood.

Unaware.

"AMBUSH"

The words ripped from Cala's throat, hoarse from misuse as she broke free from the iron grasp and charged forward. Pistol raised high she fired as she ran, felling the wrenched creature from its vantage point, it's body twisting and snapping as it fell at the feet of the Marines before dissolving into lilac ash.

A blood claw snarled as she reached their group, following her aim as he raised his heavy bolter and rained down iron and gunpowder, churning through the sniper's nest with bloodthirsty glee.

Following their lead, Cala charged forward, flitting amongst the clashing giants as she wove through their shadows. Hestia's axe crackled amongst the frey and the smell of iron and burning keratin filled her nose as the battle consumed the area. Blood thundered in her ears as she searched, hacking through human and demon flesh.

"captain!"

The soldier turned, crushing a cultists head in his fist before tossing the carcass aside, his stormy armour slick with gore.

"found your voice at last, sister?" He bellowed, firing a bolt through a tzaangor as it screeched towards him.

"we need to find the offering and kill him before he completes the ritual" she yelled back, ducking as a spear sailed past her head, bouncing harmlessly off the skull helmet of a wolf priest. "If he opens a gate, he could -"

A pulse rippled through the air, slamming the cultists to the ground and flinging the avian beasts aside. The marine held firm, their servos groaning under stress as they braced against the force, buffeted as they strained to stay upright. Cala clung to the captain as he forearm shielded her from the worst. Peering behind her, she spotted Hestia shielding herself behind the width of the wolf priest, her axe embedded in the frothed soil. Their eyes met for a brief second as her companion raised her hand.

Oathbreaker

Unable to hold her gaze, Cala turned back, fighting to peer over the massive vambrace that supported her.

The body lay contorted and twisted in broken curves, the pulse of the runes etched into his skin reaching a crescendo as a rip tore open. Thin at first, it hung in the air, leaking hazy fog and the thick stench of ozone. A ripple passed through it, before it began to fracture, cracks emanating outwards as a hole tore open in the center, spewing indigo smoke and sparks.

A clawed hand erupted from the portal, talons long as sabres and just as sharp as they carved deep into stone, reaching for purchase as a head followed through the tear. Six glowing blue eyes stared back at Cala as a beaked maw opened and screamed, reverberating through her skull. The beast heaved and scraped at the snow, trying to squeeze its massive feathered form through the rip, its body too large as it fruitlessly swiped its arm for grip.

"GREATER DEMON"

The warning came too late as a marine was cast aside in a fell swoop, body cleaved apart and discarded as the lord of change battled to escape the immaterium. Toothed beak snapping and claws dismembering any who came to close as it heaved and squealed.

"get me close"

The captain did a double take, staring wordlessly down as he ejected his spent magazine, sliding a full one back in its place.

"I'm a Null, a blank. Ican send it back, but you need to get me close"

Around then, the wolves yelled and hollered as they rolled and fired, diving from blasts of warp magic before retaliating with the biting sting of bolts and lasguns. Hestia stood back to back with an apothecary as swarms of lesser demons began to swarm from the warp rift, the ride of battle was turning fast as overwhelming numbers fought to escape the realm of tzeench.

Grunting, the wolf threw down his emptied gun and hefted his chain sword.

"together then, sister"

"Cala. My name is Cala"

"...jarl Sturvek."

Cala smiles grimly, testing the weight of her blade as she braced.

"A good day to die, Jarl Sturvek"

The man hummed, a chuckle reverberating in his chest.

"Hiljah kah uhtganjen mev tarvahettan. Greet the end with courage, sister"

Together they ran, charging headfirst through the throng, the honed edges of their swords sliding through skin and bone effortlessly, feathers and iridescent blood flying into the air with each swing. The demons recoiled from the null field of the blank as she ran, only to be felled by bloodied soldier as he cleared her path.

The demon lord shied from her as she approached, screaming as it's connection the warp weakened with each step. With Sturvek at her back, Cala expanding her null field, watched as the rift undulated, phasing through unimaginable colours as it began to recoil and dissolve.

"How long, sister? We cannot hold here"

The demon wailed as it began to retreat into the warp, its head lashing from side to side in fury as it finally lost its battle and fell back into the void.

"just one more ah-"

"CALA"

A single swipe of flailing talons caught the blackened armour near her throat, casting her down and dragging Cala into the warp.

Order/chaos,

Decay/Rebirth Endings/Endless, Destiny/fate

Lies

Falling

Falling

Falling

🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀🥀

Cala woke with a start, whispers fading to silence as she jolted upright. Her chest heaved with exertion and her head pounded like a wardrum as she swing her legs off the bed.

Wait, a bed?

Blinking, she looked around. The snow and cold mountains were gone, replaced by metal walls and an oversized bunk. A large fur spread across the floor beneath her feet, coarse but warm between her bare toes. Gone was the armour, replaced by a soft metal grey robe, a snarling wolf embroidered on the breast. The blood has been washed from her, leaving only bruises and a dull humming behind her eyes.

Standing, she swayed for a moment, before shaking her head and stepping towards the weight iron door. Swinging it open, she peered out suspiciously.

The walls were slate grey and peppered with wooden etchings, furs and tapestries, many displaying endless snowbound forest, patrolled by wolves with eyes of ember fire and fur black as soot. Fires sputtered in brackets, dimly lighting the passage as she stalked towards a massive door at the end. The smell of salted meats, drying herbs and fur perforated every inch as she hugged the wall, head swivelling as she watched for motion. Underneath it all, the ever present groan and sighs of a Gloriana engine.

Voices became louder as she approached the end of the hall, arguing loudly. Pressing an ear to the cold metal, she listened.

"she said that the girl is a traitor so she should be punished"

"Groxshite is she"

"she said, the girl broke her oath"

"To warn us!"

"she is a sister of silence, not a space wolf, it is not up to you to decide"

"well you're a-"

A deep voice over the squabble. Heavy fenrisian tone, thick and warm like spices mjord it commanded attention, undivided and rapt.

"Enough. Why not let her speak for herself."

Cala froze as the silence became overwhelming.

"I can hear your breath, your heart is running faster than a hunted doe, come in and speak"

Steeling herself with a steady breath, Cala pushes the door open, stepping into the room swinging it shut behind her with a creaking groan.

The room was warm, flames from a well fed fire heating the spacious area as it burned in an intricate hearth. Above it hung a spear, huge and golden it glinted as sparks twisted into the air. A huge fur sprawled across the metal paneled floor and large desk sat at the center, data slates and paperwork scattered across its oaken surface.

Hestia stood at one end of the wooden table, arms crossed and eyes furious as she stared, a small seed standing beside her with downcast eyes. On the other end stood a marine, red hair wore long with several braids, A long scar across his face, closing a yellow eye. A familiar helmet tucked under his arm.

"jarl Sturvek?"

A toothy grin appeared, as he nodded.

Movement caught her attention, darting her eyes after the shifting figure sat behind the desk.

In a large ornate chair, sat Leman Russ.

He lounged in the chair, slouched with his chin propped in a large hand. Blonde hair braided and swept back from eyes as clear as ice. A lazy smile crept along his face as he watched the woman.

"I have heard a lot of opinions today, now I will hear it truthfully from you"

Cala held his gaze, tilting her chin up definitely as she stepped forward towards the desk. The primarch's eyebrow twitched as his smile grew larger, sharp canines appearing as he grinned.

"I am no traitor, lord Russ. I may have broken my silence, but had I not, your pack would be short a few good men"

Cala sucked in a breath, feeling dizzy under the intensity of the primarch's presence.

"everything I have done, I have done for the imperium. I have walked the sanctum imperialism and I have laid low it's enemies across the galaxy, my voice has not changed that"

She stood tall, turning to her sister as she spoke.

"I am sorry, sister, but I will not regret my actions"

Hestia paused, glancing between cala and leman before signing. The serf stepped forward, nodding at the motions.

"she said; you have dishonored you vow and dishonored yourself, tainted with chaos. Will you not at least repent?"

The wolf king leaned forward in his seat, interrupting before Cala could respond.

"I heard you were dragged into the warp, yet you don't seem particularly cursed to me."

He sat back again, running a hand along his jaw.

"tell me, what did you see?"

The beginning, the end, fire and water, space and time spread before you

"I am.. unsure, my lord"

He nodded, seemingly lost in thought.

Sturvek stepped forward, clapping a scarred hand on the young woman's shoulder as he scowled at the sororitas.

"My lord, the girl has more bite than her sister, she -"

Leman waved him off as he rose to his feet, stepping round the desk he towered over Cala, staring her down for a moment before leaning down.

"perhaps we should kill you, to save the headache of trouble later"

"Hiljah kah uhtganjen mev tarvahettan, lord Russ" she replied simply, repeating the same chant the jarl had said to her earlier.

"HA! well said, little maiden"

He rose back to his full height, laughing as he slapped a hand on her shoulder, ignoring the way her knees buckled slightly under the impact.

"I have heard enough! Sister, you may take your leave off my ship. This one is mine now"

He returned to his seat, elbows on the desk as he propped himself upright.

Hestia's face contorted, before she bowed and spun, casting one last unreadable look at her battle sister before exiting the room.

"Sturvek"

The marine shot to attention, back stiff as he fought to smother the smirk etched on his lips.

"yes, my lord?"

"make sure the witch hunter is off my ship within the hour"

"yes, lord Russ" helm hissing sealed, he turned on his heels and strode after the silent sister, nodding one last time at Cala, and slamming a salute to his chest as he left.

"now, little doe"

Cala turned, her breath catching in her throat as she came face to face with the wolf king crouched in front of her. The smell of spice, pine and winter berries was heady and strong as he stared, eyes predatory and reflective in the guttering fire.

"let's have a chat, shall we?"

[stargazing-sapphire2]

Hello! Can we have some cute facts for your Primarch x OC ships?

I'll be doing one for Mortarion and Ferrah, as I'm currently fixated on them and another one shot in the works!

Ferrah has a condition where her skin will rash and blister when exposed to sunlight, so she is often covered up head to toe or stays indoors most of the time. Mortarion always ensure she has the finest and softest of clothing that's comfortable. He won't allow his wife to be in discomfort on his watch.

Due to this, Ferrah is extremely pale, and due to her eyes being an extremely pale gray, she's earned the moniker "The Pale Lady", although it often comes off as mockery. But Mortarion always ensures to tell her she's beautiful the way she is, and anyone caught insulting her...disappears under mysterious circumstances ;).

I like to think Mortarion is an extremely soft and vulnerable lover once you get him to open up, and he only ever expresses this attitude to Ferrah. And even more when their daughter was born. He may be the Lord of Death, a son of the Emperor, but he is a father and husband first and foremost, for all of his flaws...even if Ferrah doesn't necessarily agree with some of his more extreme opinions.

[staticymaticyyourlifeisatravesty]

Also made Irves' mother Zaya! She's a Draconic Warp Creature that Jaghatai met in the Webway!!

She's very sweet, and is deeply connected time and fate. Where the hell she comes from or even her age is a great fucking question.

[beckyninja]

Lady Guilliman: "Baby, the paperwork's all done."

Guilliman: *more aroused than he's ever been in his life*

I think we can all agree on Guilliman being the best pussy eater. Without a doubt. I’ve thought about this entirely too much to be considered sane or insane but here we are.

I imagine Guilliman returning from yet another mundane meeting with Nobles, praising the return of the God Emperor’s son, claiming him to be some blah blablah blah. He’s tired of it, he just wants to get out of his armor and sleep. With his wife in his arms of course. But there’s still so much work to be done…it’ll just have to be done with the rest of copious amounts of other logistics and strategic planning the following day. Perhaps once he’s out of his armor and in his personal quarters, he finds his lovely wife already dressed for bed, a welcoming sight to behold after a long day of boring meetings. Guilliman simply falls to his knees and rests his head in his wife’s lap, feeling her fingers run through his hair, a welcoming massage to be sure. But he complains that tomorrow will be a longer day since there’s still so much to be done, he foresees he’ll he spending many nights in his office to get all the work done. But just then, his wife tells him all of said work is done. A bewildered Guilliman is now stood at his knees to meet her gaze. All of the work is done? She did all of it? Herself? She saved him the headache he’d endure and did every last bit of work? A laugh escapes her as she confirms it, she simply wanted him to rest so she did everything while he was in the meetings. He does not deserve this woman. To properly thank her, he straight up no holds barred devours her pussy. The calm and collected Primarch is now nothing but a feral beast in heat practically. His beloved wife can’t handle it, orgasm after orgasm AFTER orgasm. Guilliman isn’t slowing down nor intends to, it would be rude to leave his wife unsatisfied.

Oh she’s desperately trying to push his head away to catch herself? No.

Oh she’s trying to close her legs to escape? Nonsense.

Oh she’s desperate begging him just for a minute to let the overstimulation go away? Heresy.

He’s going to hold her hands down, prevent her from closing her legs and continue eating her, after all, what better way to thank his wife than to basically worship her. Once he eventually withdraws that mouth of his, it’s time for the main event, he’s going to pound that wife of his into the bed.

She’s going to be bedridden for days if not weeks. But at least Guilliman can rest, right?

God, i don't have anything to add to this other than holy shit i'm dying.

please let this man do this to me, I'll be good i promise

[meangreennunseen]

I'm very curious about Kaira and Rogal's relationship? How did that arrangement even happen?

It is quite a mishap of the story.

In truth Primarch of 7th was set to marry daughter of planetary governor as showcase of good faith from Imperial Fists and Imperium. Kinda to prove Dorn recognised that worlds he conquered as their own governments as long as they complied to wider Imperium and his Father's rule. He accepted the porposal in full hopes it will be just formality and won't interfere with Great Crusade and his work. If anything Rogal knew he will outlive his wife and probs won't even meet her. Ever.

What nobody expected however, was governor's daughter refusing the idea. But not being able to decline, she came up with a plant to get her assistant (who hated her job btw) to stand in for her. Both Governor's daughter and Kaira were brunettes so it was easier to blend in as long as Kaira kept her head down. And even if Kaira hated the idea, she had no other choice. Besides as her Lady ensured her 'he'll see he is about to marry wrong woman and he' ll refuse you and you will be free".

So Kaira bit the bullet, while real bride to be fled. It so happened her fiance did not even bother showing up to ceremony, instead one of Imperial Fists astartes was a stand in groom, so there were no refusal and Kaira got herself in worst case scenario.

Lucky to her not many knew how new Legion Mother of 7th had to look like exactly, so she passed as such and was taken to Inwit, where she almost froze her ass off (Kaira was born on volcanic world, so moving to ice world was drastical change). For almost two years she lived there, eventually just taking more and more duties on, because she was that bored. Until one day her 'husband' cared to show up impressed by reports of all the work which been managed by his new wife. Sure, Dorn knew right away that is wrong woman, but he did not care as he found this one way more useful. So he moved Kaira into Phalanx and made her his assistant and two instantly find agreement over working together, even if whole marriage deal was awkward between them for years. Kaira hoped for a divorce for quite some time, but grew to like her work and even her boss/husband even if he was freak of nature in physical size, while Rogal was not one to back down and he knew him asking for divorce would make him seem weak in eyes of his brothers so he chose to endure.

Eventually both develop feelings towards eachother but it does not progress much as Heresy happens soon after.

[candyswirls]

Can I request a one shot of Corvus trying his best to do something nice for Sol's birthday well knowing she won't have many left? Maybe Corvus trying to persuade Sol to let him help and save her life, but her being fully alright with idea of death. Something bittersweet like that? Thank you!

Corvus smoothed back her hair and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

"Good morning, my love," He whispered. "Happy Birthday. What would you like for breakfast?"

"T' sleep 'n," Sol mumbled, eyes still closed.

"Porridge it is then," he whispered. "I'll be back."

***

"What is that smell?"

Corvus tried to hide the charred remains of the pot.

"Birthday porridge," he answered. "It's not quite ready."

Sol burst out laughing.

The primarch tried to hide his embarrassment, "I'm not the best cook."

"You're not!" She wheezed.

Sol's laughter shifted into a harsh coughing fit. Corvus was next to her in an instant, allowing her to lean on him.

"I'm fine..." She assured. "That... was funny."

She stood on her tiptoes, and he lowered his head to her level. She kissed him on the nose.

"Let's make something together," she offered.

"It was supposed to be done by now," he sighed. "I had the whole day planned..."

She placed her hand upon his arm, "I would love nothing more than to just spend time with you. It's all I want."

Corvus stared into her eyes, "You won't have much time left, though... I could fix that. I know I can. I just need to... I don't know. I have time to be able to do something, though."

She cupped his face, "Corvus, I will always love you. No matter what. I want to cherish the time we have together right now."

"How can you accept this?"

"I've always known. I've come to terms with it. You will, too, one day."

He rested his head upon her chest as he wrapped arms around her waist. He wasn't going to cry on her birthday. He would ensure today was a good day.

[duchessdollmace]

Out of curiosity, what do ya'll think the primarchs jobs would be in a modern setting? Totally asking for a friend, no nefarious reasons

[incrediblethirst]

Hephexia and the other primarchs

Lion El'Johnson - not friends, but they won't kill each other. Lion finds Hephexia annoying as hell and too loud about unimportant things, but in that primal instinct way, he does recognize her as a predator in her own right. If Lion is.. well, a lion; then Hephexia is a honey badger.

Fulgrim - low key friends. They're not having girls night or anything, but when there's gossip in a specific area or around a specific person of interest to the other, the information will be passed on promptly and quietly... and likely with some snark about the gossip itself.

Perturabo - They've never spoken. Vulkan did introduce them, but they simply had a long, straight faced stare off for about a minute before they both decided they had zero interest in each other. Absolutely indifferent.

Jaghatai Khan - Polite. They don't have all that much in common, but if left in a room together, they'd be alright. One of Chogoris' "noble pursuits" is telling ancient tales, and Hephexia does love a good story.

Leman Russ - Leman thinks Hephexia is fun to watch. He's seen her climb a Salamander in order to get closer to a primarchs height on multiple occasions, and it cracks him up every time. She doesn't drink tho so that's a bit of a bummer. However he finds immense joy in riling her up and watching as she ends up off on a rant about one thing or another.

Rogal Dorn - It took a while for them to even know the other existed and even longer to find a reason to speak. They don't have much in common either, but Hephexias interest in the natural world(s) has given him valuable defense information before. They get on all right.

Konrad Curze - Its probably a very good thing that they don't get along. Hephexia loves the dark and horrifying parts of nature. Compound that with everything that Curze is, and it makes for a very dark pairing. Fortunately for everyone, the immutable fate thing, pisses Hephexia off to no end.

Sanguinius - friends! Who doesn't get along with Sanguinius? But also they rarely are left alone because they bring out the bastard energy in each other. They're truly out here sharing one brain cell and lacking any and all impulse control.

Ferrus - Begrudging friends. This is a divorced couple without the marriage. They will never admit that they're friends bc they're too busy BICKERING. It has been suggested that they should just get it overwith and fuck already. (I might be planning a fic about that.. )

Angron - Is as indifferent as he can be with the nails in his head. He may have thrown her through a wall at one point... it's a very good thing Hephexia is a perpetual.

Roboute Guilliman - not friends per se but friendly. Hephexia is surprisingly organized in certain aspects and can appreciate a good spreadsheet. However, her impulsive nature and general disregard for station and propriety gives him a headache.

Mortarion - They've never even met.

Magnus - friendly. Hephexia has a thirst for knowledge in some areas. Magnus is always ready to listen to her info dump, as long as she returns the favor.

Horus - He gives her the ick. She refuses to be alone with him ever and offers only the politeness required of her. Horus is... Horus. He's a damn flirt and will not stop trying to win her over. Not for any romantic or sexual reason, it just irks him that for whatever reason, his charisma doesn't work on her.

Lorgar - He also gives her the ick, but in a different way. Even before the imperium and her meeting Vulkan, Hephexia and her people held no real religious beliefs. Lorgar doesn't appreciate Hephexias humor, specifically when she says "it's true! I saw it in the codex myself". He knows she did NOT see it in the codex and is upset that she would dare use it as part of her joke.

Vulkan - That's pookie. Beloved. Her everything.

Corvus - I want them to be friends. Idk how that would work with the saddest Boi, but they're friends.

Alpharius/Omegon - doesn't remember they exist and that's the way they like it.

[nereidof40k]

Thoughts?

[stargazing-sapphire2]

A small snippet I wrote for Ferrah and Mortarion, finally bringing them out. Hope it's liked!

"Hold still."

Ferrah's sobs tore at his hearts, but he pushed up her sleeves. Ugly bruises started to form on her arms, the once pale skin reddening and welts marring her complexion.

White, hot rage shot through Mortarion, but reluctantly, he pushed his anger back for her sake. She was in distress enough as it was, and he had no desire to upset her further.

Retrieving a salve one of the other women had handed to him prior, he gently began to apply it along the marks on her skin. Ferrah winced, attempting to tug her arms away as pain lanced across her skin.

"Stop," he snapped, his voice coming out harsher than he intended.

Ferrah froze, staring up at him with thinly veiled fear in her pale eyes. Tears trickled down her cheeks, and she squeezed her eyes shut.

"I'm s-sorry..." She whimpered, her voice coming out in short, terrified gasps.

Mortarion's face softened, and guilt coursed through him as he saw how frightened she was.

With a deep breath, he gently wrapped her arms up, sliding her sleeves back to hide the marks, to hide the evidence of the abuse Necare inflicted upon her.

Necare.

Mortarion's eyes narrowed, and he resisted the urge to spit in disgust.

With great care, he pulled Ferrah close, wrapping her within his arms and holding her to his chest. He rested his cheek on top of her head, closing his eyes.

"I'll kill him for this," he murmured. "I'll kill him for you and free all of us from his torment."

I promise...

[beckyninja]

This is so soft and sweet and 😭.

I desperately need a giant, gentle (at least with me) primarch husband.

Another primarch husband again :> I can't stop myself from making this about them being husbands so here we are. When their wife can't sleep due to their primarch husbands not going to bed with them and busy on their duty at night...

You sit up from your shared bed, feeling restless and unable to sleep. Something is bothering you, or perhaps it’s simply the absence of your husband beside you. They are in their office, diligently tending to their night duties. You respect their responsibilities, but sleeping without them feels unbearably lonely.

Sighing, you rise from the bed, take a candle holder, and step out of the chamber. The hallway is dim, the flickering candlelight barely pushing back the darkness, but you continue walking, your bare feet silent against the cold floor.

When you stop in front of the library door. You slip inside, carefully closing the door behind you to avoid alerting any Astartes, Serfs, or even your husband to catch you awake. The room is lined with towering shelves filled with books you smile to see your source of comfort. Reading often helps you drift to sleep, and you hope tonight will be no different.

You search the shelves, fingers trailing across the spines until you find the book you looking for. With it in hand, you settle near the fireplace, lighting it with your candle before placing the holder on a small table and blowing the fire on it. The gentle glow of the fire warms the room, casting dancing shadows across the walls.

Rather than sit on the stiff chair, you grab a small pillow, place it in your lap, and cross your legs on the carpet. The familiar weight of the book in your hands, the scent of old paper, and the quiet crackle of the fire soothe you.

After a minute still, you are wide awake you can't help it as you try to read more but nothing to make you fall asleep, You end up shifting, lying on your stomach to read, but the position strains your neck. Frustrated, you rest your head on the carpet, eyes still tracing the words on the page...

Footsteps echo down the hallway, growing closer. You lifted your head, and relief washed over you as your husband appeared in the doorway, their brow furrowed with worry.

“Oh, Throne, I thought something happened to you, my love,” they said, walking toward you. “I checked the chamber and panicked when you weren’t there.” As they looked down at you, eyes full of concern. “Why are you lying on the carpet? You know it’s not clean. I don’t want my wife getting sick.”

You slowly sat up, rubbing your eyes. “I couldn’t sleep. Something’s been bothering me, but reading helps,” you admitted softly, your gaze drifting back to the book. You don't want them to be worried about you...

“Did I do som-”

“No,” you interrupted, offering a tired smile. “It’s not you. It’s just... me.”

Without another word, they gently scooped you into their arms, holding you close as you gasped and instinctively clutched your book to your chest. They settled onto a small sofa, cradling you in their lap like you were the most precious thing in the universe.

You relaxed instantly, comfort blooming from their warmth. They took your book and placed it on the side table.

“You don’t need that,” they whispered. “I’m here now.”

Those words unraveled the last threads of tension in you. You nestled your head against their chest, listening to the steady rhythm of their heartbeat. Their fingers combed through your hair in slow, soothing strokes, the firelight casting gentle shadows across the room.

The warmth of their body, the sound of the crackling fire, and the tender way they held you finally coaxed you to sleep. Your breathing evened out, and your body grew limp in their embrace.

Your husband watched you, guilt flickering in their eyes for not being there sooner. Duty had kept them away, but at least now, in this quiet moment, they could give you what you needed most their presence.

They pressed a soft kiss to your forehead, holding you even closer as their exhaustion caught up to them. And they didn’t care if they both fell asleep in the library, as long as they were with you.

As long as you were close, safe, and sound. That was all that mattered.