#rushal and sevatar

[pallysuune]

Summery: Sevatar takes solace in his Raven when his psyker headaches grow to be too much. Literally.

Pairing: Sevatar/Rushal

Warnings: Smut, rough sex, blood, typical Sevatar and Rushal stuff.

A/N: I love these two toxic boys. Don't judge me.

Rushal knows the headaches are getting to be too bad when Sevatar grabs him and slams him too hard against the wall, forcing his mouth to slot over his. He doesn't blame him for the violence, never. Half their relationship is violence. It's what they're both made for, something they'll never get away from. But Sevatar has eased toward him with time, and so these moments stand out all the more. How Sevatar pressed against him like he's trying to drown in him. Like he needs him to survive.

It's just a balm, he knows. A salve. An attempt to drive away the pain that splits apart his mind from the inside out. He can't actually save Sevatar from what is slowly killing him, though he wished he could. This is the best he could do.

He relaxes pliantly under Sevatar's hands as the Captain kisses him, tongue stealing into his mouth, tracing the scars along the inside of his cheek, caressing the stump of his tongue. Rushal lets out a low sound, more a rumble in the air between them than an actual noise. Sevatar's fingers dig hard into his shoulders.

Hands scramble at his tunic. His own find purchase in Sevatar's shirt. Neither of them have much regard for the fabric in moments like this. The sound of it ripping is drowned out by a deeper groan from the Raven as Sevatar's hand palms him roughly through his pants.

The metallic scent of blood registers in his mind slowly. There's something wet on his lips. He rears his head back. Sevatar is looking up at him, tension at the corner of his eyes. His nose is bleeding. The red stands out starkly against his skin.

Rushal raises a hand toward his face.

“Leave it,” Sevatar barks, pushing forward to kiss him again. Desperate, barely contained. He rakes red welts across Rushal's chest, nails catching on scars. Small beads of blood rise to the surface of his skin in their wake. Rushal hisses, but doesn't try to stop him.

In a whirlwind of motion, the rest of his clothes are torn away, and he's turned to face the wall, pressed up against it by a heavy forearm against the back of his neck. He splays his hands across the cold plasteel and closes his eyes. Spit-slick fingers press to - and into - his ass. He lets a shapeless groan slip past his lips, his eyes slipping closed.

Sevatar does not allow him long, but Rushal doesn't mind. The burn as Sevatar finally pulls his fingers out and sheaths himself in him is familiar, almost welcome. A hand grips his hip, nails digging in roughly, leaving crescent shapes in his skin. The other arm is still laying across the back of his neck. Sevatar holds him in place and fucks him roughly.

And fuck, it feels good.

He's unbearably hard himself. He slips a hand down, curling his fingers around his length. Sevatar does not stop him. He's growling like something wild behind him, lost in it all, his only anchor the feeling of Rushal's body beneath his.

Rushal fucks his palm in the same rhythm as the buck of Sevatar's hips. He feels something hot drip onto his back. It rolls down his back slowly. Blood from Sevatar's nose. The feeling of it slowly running down the taut muscles of his back sends a shiver rushing up his spine.

It isn't long until Sevatar slams his hips against his ass, burying himself in him as he comes, cock pulsing as he fills him. He growls, feral and dark, before slowly relaxing. He slumps, his forehead resting against Rushal's back. He can feel the tickle of Sevatar's hair against his skin.

He has the honor of hearing words no one else likely ever would from the Captain as Sevatar whispers against him.

“I'm sorry.”

If the act itself was reminiscent of the darker time directly after his torture, that feeling is broken by just those two words. Rushal reaches back, tapping Sevatar's hips lightly. He gets the hint and draws back, slipping out of Rushal.

The Raven doesn't bother to finish himself. It isn't about him at the moment. Instead, he takes a ripped piece of his shirt and unceremoniously cleans himself up, grabbing another and moving to where Sevatar has slumped down onto his bed, sitting casually across it with his back propped against the wall. Using the same soiled rag, Rushal cleans him, before tossing it away. With the second, clean tatter of cloth, he leans close and gently wipes the blood from Sevatar's face. Already, the flow has become sluggish. It will stop soon enough.

Sevatar's closed eyes flickered slightly open when Rushal cleans his face, looking over at him with a grimace, before closing again. The corners of his eyes are still pinched from pain, but it seems to be fading.

With them both cleaned up, Rushal pulls Sevatar down to the bed. It takes a moment for them both to arrange themselves comfortably, in a tangle of muscular limbs and heavy bodies.

The door is locked. It is just the two of them in the darkness of Sevatar's quarters. Safe in a way neither wants to think of too hard. It takes a long time for Sevatar to finally sleep. Rushal knows from experience he won't sleep long. He can only hope the headache has eased the rest of the way by the time he wakes up.

[tagedeszorns]

Marine Meat Monday Special:

POV, you are Sevatar and this is your private time with Rushal.

[purplebutwarhammer]

Peepaw spotted

[viceroy-jericho]

For Warhammer ask. Q1: How did Rushal end up in your legion? Q2: Tell a tale.

*The original source of the poem is russian oral literature.

«The only one of them to remain silent the whole while was Rushal. The Raven’s white skin, bare without his charcoal plate, was criss-crossed with dozens of aggravated scars – marks of excruciation, inflicted through torture, not earned in honest battle. He watched Sevatar from across the cell, his posture mirroring the First Captain’s as they sat with their backs to the force screens.

Sevatar nodded to the Raven. ‘I just realised I was wrong,’ he said. ‘I promised myself I wouldn’t lose to the Angels twice.’

Rushal’s scarred, split lips twisted into the ugly smile Sevatar’s knives had left him.»

(Aaron Dembski-Bowden. Prince of Crows.)

[pallysuune]

It is such a shame we don't know more about Rushal and Sevatar. They're such a weird dynamic that it is genuinely one of my favorites.

Rushal only ever shows up in Prince of Crows, when he's already a sort of member of the Night Lords, and it's really only touched on in the background, iirc, that after Istvaan, when he either went to the NL intentionally or was captured, he was tortured severely by Sevatar and had his tongue cut out. Some time following that, he actually became very loyal to Sevatar, even backing him up during the unstable time when Kurze was comatose, and there was a bit of a power struggle among the Kyroptera.

(I say power struggle, but really, Sev had anyone who didn't agree with him killed, and instilled a new Kyroptera, which, amusingly, included Rushal.)

Last we hear of him is that he's one of the Night Lords with Sevatar when he got captured by the Dark Angels.

That, to my best knowledge, is all we know about Alastor Rushal. No background other than he's Terran, no insight, no understanding why he's joined the NL, nothing. But he does genuinely seem to like Sevatar, and Sev basically refuses to hear anything bad about him when making him a member of the Kyroptera, so there's some kind of complex relation there on both sides. Or one could make that argument, at least.

Sorry for ambushing this, I find Rushal and Sevatar fascinating, and my background character-loving heart hyper focused on Rushal hard when I found out about him.

Jago sevatarion aka the kink master dude was freaky enough to make a Raven guard marine his pet with just the power of his BDSM play

I'm sorry, WHAT

[kyroptera-more-like-chiroptera]

Prince of Crows is a comedy, actually.

(1)

Why does this read to me like Lady Violet and Lady Crowley in Downton Abbey as they jab at eachother over tea?

(2)

I too would like to offer insincere congratulations to people, Sev. We just don't say it out loud.

[yanagikou]

Happy Sanguinala from the heretical side!

[sharenadraculea]

There are definetly Night Lord Neophytes in 40k learning about first captain Sevatar and his prisoner of war Rushal, with whom he slept in the same bed for years exclusivly for security purposes. Sadly no one knows anymore why Rushal was such a valuable prisoner

[like-tears-in-rain-storms]

@purplebutwarhammer Dedicated to you, the inspiration from your post suddenly hit me like a ton of bricks.

[nereidof40k]

I found more Husbandry words. So double update day. Don’t expect it every day though.

=====

I’m back, hope you guys weren’t too worried. Yesterday was really quite bizarre, but ended really very well. I don’t think I will be able to walk straight today, but it was so worth it. I’m actually surprised the bed didn’t break. Who the hell made beds that survive an enthusiastic Night Lord back in the 800s or so? No, I didn’t leave out a number. This house really dates back to early Viking times or possibly even earlier.

My wonderful man updated you yesterday, it seems, so there is not really much for me to tell.

My Night Lord has gone to clear out the orchard, getting rid of the undergrowth and weeds.

It is good he is so indefatigable. Nothing would have gotten done today otherwise.

While I am sitting here, I did some research about the pendant. It’s really curious how it responded when the clown attacked. It felt like pure ice. But didn’t hurt at all.

I haven’t been able to find out how yet. But the symbolism is interesting. Going by local beliefs, a mistletoe arrow would be Baldr, specifically his death.

And the snake is clearly Jormungandr, the World Serpent. The combination points to Loki Laufeyson. Norse trickster god. I’m more confused than ever, frankly. I wish there was a better library in this house. Maybe down in the maze. Ha. We’re not in a mystery story, are we?

Oh, my dear man came in, said he had something to show me, then swept me off my feet. I will be back in a few.

=====

Raven here, again. While the two lovebirds dig up more weirdness, I will keep you updated on other goings on.

First off, Altani and I are fine. Don’t worry, they have both been as attentive as ever before.

She is a sweet girl, I’ve been reading to her, trying to make sure she doesn’t watch too much TV. Though I have to admit there’s some very nice programs. I’m learning a lot about this time period and other ancient Terran history. I’ve even found a considerable amount of information about the area I myself came from. Shit, I’m starting to sound like Magnus.

The poachers are complaining to the news about being denied bail. I think it’s for the best. They should be too scared to leave jail. I guess they need to be frightened more. Might need to hint to the grandmothers about that.

Still more Astartes getting new homes and being reunited with their families.

Which leads to something I have been wondering about, given how much free time I have while recovering.

Compared to the rest of this time period, this place seems a bit … stuck in the past. I can’t explain it better than that. Not a bad thing though.

Raven out.

=====

Gods, when I saw what Raven had written, I swear my brain rebooted. He has a very good point. Modern society is so busy and uncaring. But not here. It’s like we’re living in one of those stories about an idyllic past. What is going on?

As for what my man showed me, I can’t believe it.

While most of the trees in the back part of the orchard are a total mess, he found one apple tree that looked just perfect. Practically dripping with big, juicy glowing apples. Yes, glowing. It’s also a bit early for them to be fully ripe.

Yet when I tried one, it was so ripe and sweet it didn’t seem real.

I swear any lingering soreness disappeared, and I feel like I’m millennia younger, if that makes sense.

My sweetheart also said the same. What even is this place, and why does it feel so right that things are like this?

We took some apples back to Altani and Raven. Same thing happened to them, they’re both running around like little kids in prime health.

First Loki, then these apples. If a Jotunn shows up next I might scream.

One second, emergency radio broadcast.

=====

Dear fuck, those apples came at the perfect time.

Some of the fuckers from the fighting ring managed to break out. And they’re out for blood. Altani immediately went out to grab more apples, I will join her as soon as I finish this.

My boys immediately started fortifying the place, mentioning it would have been very good to have someone named Rogal Dorn around, but he’s not here sadly.

Also the Grandmothers called. The entire town and its outlying farms are preparing for war. They shall not find us wanting.

For some reason the boys found that phrase funny. No time to explain now though.

But I will update you later, I have a little girl to protect. Though my sweetheart said she is extremely powerful, I still worry. Even with all the weirdness I haven’t been this happy in ages.

[the-sharena-draculea]

Sevatar playing dress up with Rushal. Yes, it is very important that Rushal is wearing a perfectly ironed dress uniform with a elaborate braided hairstyle while Sevatar is still in his pijamas and hasn‘t brushed his teeth in way too long

[tagedeszorns]

Marine Meat Monday: Alastor Rushal and Jago Sevatarion and their fucked up power dynamic. Again.

[purplebutwarhammer]

The only good thing to come out of this heatwave is imagining my faves suffering through it

Sevatars melted into a puddle in the bottom of his armour, he’s sunburnt and miserable but will not admit that he was wrong about being able to handle the humidity

Rushals in one of those Hawaiian shirts and a pair of shorts, he was the only one to pack extra sunscreen and water he also brought sunglasses

Curze retreated to the vents that supply the cooling systems and is currently thriving, he won’t be seen until the heatwave has passed

[viceroy-jericho]

[sharenascribbles]

Drawing Rushal, Sevatar and Tovac Tor because I‘m currently obsessed with them. Like more than usual

[pallysuune]

Summery: The Raven takes you to his master - who's your new master too! You're just happy to be alive. But then you accidentally walk in on the two of them having some "private time"

Pairing: Sevatar/fem!Reader/Rushal

Warnings: Dubcon, little bit of blood, Sevatar and Rushal being Sevatar and Rushal. Smut.

A/N: Here's that part 2 for you all! I'm so glad you enjoyed the first one, and I hope you'll enjoy this one, too.

The Raven took you out of the maintinence corridor, pulling you by the hand. You even resorted to trying to grab a pipe to keep him from pulling you out. The Astartes sighed, reaching past your body to gently, but firmly, pull your fingers from around the pipe, one by one. You gave a desperate little sob as you were forced to let go and he began to lead you away once again. It wasn't long until he was pulling you out of the hatch to the maintinence tunnel and into a larger hallway where he could stand up fully. The Raven straightened, looming over you.

"I-" you started, the word halting sharply. You didn't even know what you were going to say, but your voice crumbled in your throat as he looked down at you. His expression was blank, but all the scarring turned it into a gruesome looking frown. You shifted uneasily back away from him, but he still had a hand around your wrist. You couldn't get away.

He paused for a moment, just looking at you. Then, the Raven sighed, bent down, and yanked you over his shoulder. You let out a startled squeal. Any idea of escape was shattered as he curled an arm around your thighs, clamping them in place. You were left hanging over his shoulder, staring down at his ass.

Not a view you ever expected to get, frankly.

The Raven carried you through the halls. You heard a few deep snickers from Night Lords you passed, but any serf kept their heads down, not even daring to look at you or the man carrying you. As you hung over his shoulder, you realized that you didn't actually know his name. A serf wasn't important enough to be told about new recruits, even when that recruit was a defector from another legion. And you'd only ever overheard Night Lords calling him 'the Raven', and sometimes talking about his relationship with the First Captain.

"Um..." you started.

He turned his head slightly toward you. You watched the sway of his long hair.

You figured you were going to die soon anyways, so why not go for it? "What's your name?"

He just looked forward again.

Well, okay then, you thought.

You spent the rest of the trip in silence.

The Raven brought you, unsurprisingly, to the private room of the First Captain, Jago Sevatarion. The one man you were trying to hide from.

Sevatar was out of his armor, sitting in a large chair and looking at a data slate that was immediately put aside when the door closed behind you and the Raven.

"Found a little mouse for me, have you?" Sevatar purred.

The Raven nodded, and then slipped you off his shoulder. You were set on your feet just in front of him. Large hands settled on your shoulders, holding you in place.

Sevatar rose from his seat and stepped close to you. Your heart pounded at being sandwiched between the two of them. You were trapped, ever instinct in your body screamed that you were in danger. Sevatar reached out, taking your chin between his fingers and tilting your head up to look at him.

"Are you afraid, little mouse?" he drawled, with a smirk that was absolutely wicked.

One you found inappropriately attractive, considering the circumstances.

His thumb pressed against your bottom lip softly. "I know you are. I can smell it," he smirked. His eyes held yours. He drew his thumb down so the nail pressed into your lip. It was uncomfortable, but not painful. But your heart raced all the same.

"Rushal," Sevatar said. You were confused for a second, before your scattered mind realized he was addressing the marine standing behind you, his hands still on your shoulders. Sevatar's gaze was still boring into yours. "What do you think we should do with our little mouse here?"

The hands on your shoulders tightened slightly. Sevatar finally looked away from you, lifting his head to look at the Raven. You were too afraid to look back at him, so you had no idea what Sevatar saw in his face, but Sevatar smirked. He released you, turned, and strode back over to the seat he had been in before.

"You will be my personal serf from now on," he said over his shoulder, casually. "You'll remain here with me, there's no need for you to report to anyone other than me now."

"Wait, what?"

He turned to look at you as he sat down, arching a brow. "Was I unclear?"

You shook your head so quickly and frantically, you probably would have fallen over if Rushal didn't still have his hands on you.

"Good. Now go fetch some armor polish."

You hurried to scramble out of the room.

*~*~*~*

Despite your initial fears, things turned out to be rather uneventful as Sevatar's personal serf. He preferred tending to his weapons himself, as well as the skins that decorated his armor. You were left to clean his armor when it needed it, straighten his room, and fetch things for him. You also tended to Rushal somewhat. He'd never had you clean his armor or anything, but you brought food or drinks for him as well as Sevatar. After several days, you realized you were less likely to be hurt or killed by the Astartes, and more likely to die of boredom when left to your own devices.

There was one thing that was certainly not boring - over the few days you had worked for him, Sevatar had made it quite clear that he wanted you.

You hadn't yet figured out if that meant sexually, or if he wanted to eat you.

Most of the time, you were in his room, working or passing the time, but he did allow you to eat one meal a day with the other serfs, letting you have some social interaction. Theoretically. Except, since you had become Sevatar's personal serf, none of the general serfs wanted to interact with her. It was as if they were afraid that they would draw the attention of other Night Lords. As if your status was somehow contagious.

One night you got tired of sitting and eating by yourself and decided to just finish your meal in Sevatar's room.

You opened his door and shut it behind you before turning - and promptly freezing, dropping the plate of food you'd brought with you from the mess. The clatter of it hitting the floor made both men glance at you.

Rushal was sitting, naked, on Sevatar's lap, his back to you, giving you a surprisingly lovely view of his back and ass, all impossibly pale skin and hard muscles and the glint of metal. He blinked at you, unashamed, but surprised by your presence. His lips - and Sevatar's - were smeared with red from where Sevatar had bitten his lip and drew blood.

Sevatar himself was lounging on the chair like a king in a throne, wearing only a pair of shorts from what you could see. His skin had only slightly more color than Rushal's, and his normally neat hair was a mess. His hands were still resting on Rushal's hips. He watched you intently with a look you could only describe as hungry.

His lips stretched into a grin. You could see blood on his teeth.

The sight snapped you out of your shock and you jumped, spinning around to put your back to them. "I'm sorry, sir! I-" You cut off, not sure what else to say.

You heard a deep chuckle behind you. "Are you? There is a way you can make it up to us, you know," Sevatar purred.

You felt heat rush to your face immediately. Your heart skipped and stumbled over itself.

"I know you want to. I can smell it," he continued.

He was right, you couldn't deny the thought had set off and fluttering tingle of arousal all through you.

You hestiated, and then turned slowly toward them. They were still sitting exactly as they had been before, watching you. You wet your lips.

"How?" you asked softly.

Sevatar smirked wider and held out a hand to you. A silent order to come over. You slowly stepped closer. As you reached them, Rushal slid off his lap, stepping back. It took a great deal of effort not to look over at the Raven, who moved to stand just to your side. Still naked.

You stopped in front of him and Sevatar leaned forward, grabbing your arm, pulling you into his lap. You gasped, your legs forced wide by the size of him beneath you. You could feel the hard press of his cock against you, impossibly large, separated from you only by thin layers of cloth. You squirmed on his lap, trying to get more comfortable, drawing a deep rumbling from his chest. He yanked you forward, his lips slamming into yours. His tongue shoved into your mouth, filling it with the coppery taste of blood.

Rushal's blood, you remembered.

The Raven pressed against you from behind, as silent as he ever was. He was kneeling, his chest pressing against your back as he reached around you to grasp your shirt and unceremoniously rip it open. You gasped, startled, while Sevatar only chuckled against your mouth. Someone's hands, you couldn't be sure who's, cupped your breast, squeezing it gently. A rough thumb rubbed over your nipple. Rushal's scarred, rough lips pressed against the back of your neck.

You knew then that you were done for. These men were going to kill you. Just in a very different way than what you'd expected.

There was nothing to do but lean into it. You kissed Sevatar back, leaning into him. One of them pulled at your pants, ripping them and your panties. You tensed as a finger brushed along your sex. Warm and rough, it traced along your lips, spreading them, and grazing your clit. You gave a shuddering sigh against Sevatar's lips.

A thick finger worked it's way into you. Fucking you slowly. Sevatar's finger, judging from the palm that pressed to your sex and ground against your clit as it did. You moaned, breaking the kiss to tip your head back, panting. Another finger teased your entrance from behind before Rushal slipped his fingers into you, too.

Both of the Astartes fingered you. You could barely comprehend what was happening at the moment. Not that you were doing too much thinking, at the moment. The sensations reeling through your body were just too much, too potent. Teeth nipped at your throat had enough to sting. Fingers pinched your nipple.

You were pushed to the edge. Your body was theirs to play with, and there was nothing you could do about it except grasp on to Sevatar's shoulders and hold on, screaming out your pleasure as you came around both of their fingers.

Hazy, you slumped back against Rushal as both of them slipped their fingers free. Sevatar reached out, snatching up Rushal's wrist and pulled his hand to his mouth, sucking your essence from his finger with heavy lidded eyes. You felt the soft moan that rumbled through Rushal's chest behind you.

Releasing his lover's hand, Sevatar sat up, pulling himself free of his shorts, and reaching for your hips. He lifted you and pulled you over him. You felt the velvet-smooth press of his cock head at your entrance, pressing into you, as he pulled you down onto him. You gasped, stretched around him, filled more than you could ever have thought possible.

Sevatar groaned, biting down a little harder on your neck this time, beginning to fuck you deeper and rougher with each moment. You mewled and moaned, your hips rocking desperately against his, lost in the muddled mix of pleasure and pain.

Sevatar's lips trailed up your neck, nipping at your earlobe. "Don't you think you're forgetting someone?" He purred.

Before you could respond, his fingers curled roughly in your hair and yanked your head around. Your eyes fluttered open to the sight of Rushal standing just beside you. His eyes were hooded, heavy as he looked down on you bouncing in Sevatar's lap, his hand curled around his cock, stroking himself. Your eyes trailed down the tense, trembling muscles of his stomach and abdomen, locking on his manhood. Your breath hitched. Without thinking, you leaned a little closer to him, opening your mouth as wide as you could.

Something sparked in his eyes, and he shifted closer, guiding the head of his cock to your mouth. You wrapped your lips around him, tongue teasing over the tip before you dipped your head, taking more of him. He groaned deeply, remaining still, letting you take him at your own pace.

Sevatar's hands dropped to your hips, gripping right enough they would surely leave bruised. Rushal's hand took their place in your hair instead. Sevetar bucked up into you roughly, where Rushal gave only the slightest flex of his hips. The contrast between the two of them was enough to drive you wild.

The three of you found a kind of rhythm, with Sevatar fucking you, and you bobbing on Rushal's cock. It was heady, intoxicating, the air filled with the scent of sex, and all three of you making the most obscene sounds. You couldn't last like that forever, pleasure pushing you to the limit once again until you felt like you were going to shatter into a million pieces. You whimpered around Rushal, your eyes squeezed shut. Tears beaded on your lashes. You came again, your pussy squeezing tight around Sevatar's cock, your keen of pleasure muffled by the one in your mouth.

Sevatar growled beneath you, and you could feel him throb inside you as he came, pumping you full of his release.

At almost the same time, Rushal pulled himself free of your mouth, taking himself in hand again, closing his fingers around the cockhead, grunting as he came into his hand. Your eyes fluttered open just in time to see, and you watched, mesmerized by the sight.

Hands slid from your hips to wrap around your waist and Sevatar pulled you down against his chest, still buried deep in you. You sighed, letting yourself relax on him as you felt Rushal step away from the two of you. Drowsy, you barely noticed when he returned a few moments later, and rested lightly on the arm of the chair, leaving back toward Sevatar. One of them was stroking your hair, but you had no idea who.

"Sleep," Sevatar rasped, amusement in his voice. "I'm sure we'll have more for you to do later."

You didn't doubt him in the slightest, and decided to take some time to rest while you had it.