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sleepyfan-blog · 4 months

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Rotten Hope (2)

Author’s note: Part two of the Typhus x Reader fics. I blame you all for the botflies that have spawned because of this. this 4,595 words long. Why has this man infested my brain so much? HELP Previous

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

Warnings: dubious consent, attempted seduction, forced marriage (In that Typhus decides that you and him are married now), body horror, tentacles, oviposition, SMUT, mild cumflation, demon bees, please ask me to tag anything that makes you uncomfortable that I missed

Summary: You are brought to Typhus the traveler, herald of Nurgle, to speak with him. You get far more than what you bargained for.

You could keenly sense Typhus' presence upon this world. The powerful deamon marine of nurgle wasn't bothering to hide nor dim his curdling presence to your senses as you left the space port where your ship had been docked. Your ship - what used to be your ship - was a swift vessel that did have enough ammunition to defend itself against most pirates and would be attackers. Not that they could fend off the full might of a Gloriana class vessel, Her speed could fly circles around the much larger but slower vessel. You were also hoping that they would be focused on the suffering and agonizing souls were being ravaged by the plague, rather than a single vessel of healthy, un-touched souls.

As you make your way through the streets of the city, you watch as the plague marines and cultists go from door to door, bearing bowls of horrific looking and smelling liquid that bubbled and glorped unpleasantly. the ragged, sickly and confused mortals peering blearily at them, falling to their knees and thankful for the stew given to them, drinking gratefully as the foul substance seemed to soothe the ragged edges of madness that was part of the dreadful blight that had taken so many of the mortals of this world. You look away, focusing on moving through the streets of the city, hearing the grateful murmurings of the mortals around you, tears falling from your eyes as you knew that the horrid stew that they were gratefully drinking would bind them to the Plaguefather.

Ah... But you'd been the one to bring these bastards here. You'd been so relieved to have found an Astartes, you'd forgotten to check if he was chaos-tainted or not, having forgotten that not all of them followed the will of their creator in your desperate search for any kind of help... And you'd found help, as the violent madness did seem to fade from the minds of the afflicted as you carefully move across barricades, still in your hazmat suit, silently hoping that the uninfected mortals realized that Plague Marines had come to this world and they had ways to flee this world, this system before they were caught and either killed painfully or turned to Nurgle's side.

You knew that you'd been spotted hours ago, and stopped at the edge of the barricade that had been set up by the Death Guard and their accompanying cultists, despair and misery pulling at your heart as you see that the healthy mortals were being stripped of their protective gear and dragged across the barrier one at a time, being taken to where Typhus was. You swallow down the desire to flee, to hide. He knew you were on this world. You had no safe way off of this world, and if you willingly revealed your presence, perhaps you could have the remaining healthy mortals spared from the predations of the plague-ridden neverborn. You walk up to two of the guards as they glare down at the trembling, weeping mortals and call out as bravely as you can manage out "Excuse me -" Your eyes flicker over the corroded metal and twisted heraldry that both of the plague marines were wearing, searching for any clue as to what either of their ranks were. Aha! You spotted it, under the grime and muck "Sergeant, but I need to speak with your first captain, he is expecting me."

The Death Guard on the left leaned on his scythe a little, looking you up and down "The first captain won't see anyone in clothes like that, it's rude. He also said that he gave the one he's looking for a certain phrase to prove themself to be the eternal blossom he seeks?"

You swallow hard as you reach up and take off your helmet, doing your best to keep eye contact with the large marine, ignoring the horrified gasps from the mortals around you.

"No! Lady Trader, do not-" One of the scientists pleaded, running towards you and breaking the line that they'd been put in, trying to reach for your helmet.

Two of the cultists rushed the scientist who'd grabbed you and hauled them back into line, giggling madly "Now, now, don't be impatient! Grandfather is happy to bless all of you, you just need to be patient!"

"He said... He said that Typhus asked me, little Isha, to come to him while our minds touched one another." You respond, doing your best to keep your voice as even and confident as you can manage. Your grip on the hazmat helmet is tight, but you hope that they don't notice that.

Both Death Guards grin - their fused facial plates splitting open into needle-sharp maws with dozens of spiraling rows of teeth, and the mouths on their bellies opening up and laughing raucously "So he did, little blossom! Remove the rest of your protective coverings and one of our brothers will bring you to the Herald."

You nod, stripping out of the rest of the hazmat suit as quickly as you could force yourself to move, now dressed in the shirt, shorts and shoes you'd picked specifically because it would get very warm in the hazmat suit if you dressed too warmly. It was early spring in this hemisphere and in the blood-red dawn of day it was chilly, causing you to shake and shiver in the cold. "I have done as you asked."

"Darsas! Eleghra, the eternal flower has revealed herself at the gate and is prepared to meet Older Brother." One of the guards calls out.

Moments later, two massive, mutated plague marines walk up to you, one of them on each of your sides and pick you up bodily, walking you into the secondary area. You're set down before a half-dozen Nurglite cultists who begin to frisk you for weapons - as if you could physically stand up to the might of a standard marine, much less a favored chaos marine of one of the Four - before saying "She is ready to see The Herald."

You are physically picked up and carried over to a large, grimy tent where a massive marine is partially bent over a large table, speaking with the plague riddled governor and highest-ranking nobles of the half-dozen worlds under siege of this awful plague, each of the latter looking terrified and resigned. All of them look stunned to see you - and that you are whole and healthy, especially in the grasp of a plague marine. You should be in paroxysms of pain, gasping and spluttering as the infested flies that buzz around their supernaturally fucked up bodies devour from the inside out.

Despite his helmet hiding whatever facial expressions he might be making, you could feel the satisfaction and delight that Typhus oozes as his gaze falls upon you, dangled in the grasp of two of his brothers. "Excellent! I was hoping that you wouldn't be stubborn nor skittish, little Isha-"

At that... Petname? Lord Alleg'fel spluttered, his abhuman (not Eldar) pointed ears twitching a little, dark eyes widening in horror "L...Little what?"

"Mmm, I am surprised that you are unaware of the eternal flower in your midst. Such beings tend to be shy and hide themselves well, unless forced out into the open." Typhus purrs "While she is able to die, her soul returns to her mortal form swiftly, unable to truly die. She is blessed with psykery and an eternally youthful body. This lovely, shy flower was hidden amongst your worlds. Grandfather blessed me with her near location and we created this plague to bring all of you into Grandfather's loving embrace... And to bring her out of hiding. Grandfather noted that I had been... Lonely, wishing for a companion similar to the companionship He enjoys with Grandmother, and pointed us in this lovely flower's direction. You are dismissed. My little flower and I need to... Talk... Privately."

Slow burning horror and guilt would have caused you to crumple to the ground, despair and fury hitting you moments later. You'd done your best to stay out of the greater Game that was being played between The Four and Neoth, and had thought that you'd been largely successful. You hadn't realized that all of this was to trap you in one place, so that... What? You'd become a plaything for the favored pawn of Nurgle? As if you were going to lay down and meekly take whatever awful horrors he was going to do to you. A low, furious growl left your chest as your eyes began to flash the bright shining blue of warpcraft, your hands beginning to crackle with the power you'd long since learned to master, your voice booming with fury "IF YOU THINK-" you started to yell, the eldritch lightning sparking around your form painful enough to cause the two plague marines to drop you to the ground. You land on your feet, hissing wordlessly, ready to fight to your death over and over again.

But Typhus cut off your words "Come now, you asked for my help, little flower, and I have given it. Besides, I even ensured that the plague that ravaged these worlds did not affect the mortals you are closest to, despite them being exposed to it."

Horror hit you, cooling your fury like a deluge of ice on a lava flow "What.... What do you mean?"

"Come now, did you really think that mundane methods of infection prevention can actually stop one of Grandfather's plagues? Surely you're more clever - or at least not that naive, my lovely flower. Although it would be very cute if you are. they live healthy and untainted as a favor to you." Typhus crooned, all but teleporting in front of you. One of his massive, clawed hands cups your cheek. The stench of death and decay is nearly overpowering and makes you want to gag. It is not helped by the undercurrent of honey-sweetness that is, strangely enough, part of his scent as well as overripe fruit. "But if you try to fight me or my little brothers, I will remove that protection from them. I have brought an entire fleet with me. Your cute little ship cannot hope to escape my brothers in the void above us."

Despair and failure rip the fight out of you, and your eyes shine with tears. But you do know how to play coy, to bat your eyelashes. You can feel the desire and want radiating off of this chaos-twisted monster, and you desperately hope that you can use that to your advantage somehow. Which is why you lean into his touch, despite internally shuddering at that, locking your mental shields tight, so as to keep your emotions from the younger psyker. "Please don't harm my crew... they are as innocent of my nature as the mortals in these worlds, Lord Typhus. I..." You do not want to, but the false apology will likely stroke his ego "Apologize for lashing out earlier."

"Mmm, I expected at least a little bit of bite and fury, my lovely Rose. Of course you have your own thorns. You merely needed to be reminded not to prick your beloved's brothers when in a pretty little temper." Typhus purrs, giving a silent signal to his brothers, who swiftly cleared the tent of anyone else. "You're so used to hiding and escaping... To have your true nature revealed would cause a fit of pique... As long as that doesn't happen again, I am willing to forgive you easily enough."

"I... I'll try... Would you please let my ship full of mortals leave without becoming ill? they are wanderers by nature and to trap them in one place would be cruel beyond words, my lord." You plea, batting your eyelashes up at him.

"Wouldn't you rather have them with you, my lovely flower? For you will be at my side now and for always. Won't you miss them if they are far from you?" Typhus coos down at you as he scoops you up and sets you down on the table, pressing in close to you as he does so. "When I found out that you're a rogue trader, I was rather expecting to you to be dressed in fine clothes, with pretty little gems accenting your lovely features..."

"Such things are not...uhm... Exactly reasonable to wear, especially in the protective clothing I was wearing over this, my lord. And I did not want to worry the mortals by wearing something... So flashy?" You offer, peeking up at h i m coquettishly, tilting your head a little before looking down "Besides... All of that artifice is... Tiring at times, not to mention ephemeral. And I'd rather my mortals be happy, if away from me, than at my side and unhappy."

"How sweet of you, my lovely rose... And I do like how simply you are dressed. It makes unwrapping you much easier. You are mine, as Isha belongs to my grandfather. We will become one, and you will be my pretty little wife." Typhus purrs, pressing you down on the table. You could hear something creak and shift in his armor before four tentacles slide out from hatches in his armor, each curling into part of your pants and ripping them off of you, as a fifth slid up between your legs and the tip rubbed against your core.

You gasp and squirm, trying to close your legs and shift away from the strange sensation, turning your head away from him as your face and neck burned in a blush that was revealed by more tugging tendrils to be a flush that spread down your chest and across your breasts "L-Lord T-Typhus! Does... Do... Right now? On a table? Is this... Is there somewhere more comfortable to... To..." You can't bring yourself to say the words that burned like acid in your mind.

"hmm? Would you like me to carry you to a bed, to ravish you properly, my pretty little flower? Is that what you'd like? I'll admit, that was my initial plan, but your sweet flirtation and compliance so far has worn away my patience. I try to emulate grandfather, but patience is not my strongest suit." Typhus purrs. You see him pull his face plat off, his face half rotted near to bone as he gives you a crushing, dominating kiss that tastes of over ripe fruit and dangerously sweet honey. When he pulls away from you, allowing you to catch your breath, you see that the sting of saliva that connects you to him has a golden tinge. "I could be... Convinced to take you for our first time together on a bed... But you'll need to do something for me, first."

You hadn't expected the bastard to be a talented kisser, nor to stir up long-suppressed wants. You blink up at him, feeling surprisingly hazy and warm from the kiss "What.. What is it, lord?" You ask, not having to feign the breathiness in your voice from the kiss.

"For you to taste a mouthful of the honey that my bees create. Considering your reaction to just the slightest taste of it, I suspect that you will enjoy more of it. But I get to share it so rarely with others, and my little darlings have plenty to spare." Typhus purrs, his hands lightly squeezing your upper thighs as he effortlessly pulls your legs away from one another.

You hate how much that casual display of strength turns you on, and the wetness that starts to drip from your core at that. It's been... A long time since you'd masturbated, and you hadn't had sex in... At least a century? Perhaps longer. "H...Honey?" You manage out, trying to focus.

The smug bastard definitely noticed, from the pleased hum and the smirk he's giving you with what remains of his lips - and he rubs one of his tentacles more firmly against your entrance "Are you certain you want to wait that long? You're already dripping for me~! And this table should be sturdy enough for me to fuck you properly on. I'd also be happy to feed you a mouthful of my honey either way."

"I... haah! Oh! Please... Hnngh..." You start to say, groaning as one of the tentacles that had been content to hold your arms down slid over and began teasing and squeezing one of your breasts, flicking it with the tip of the squirming appendage. His stench was overpoweringly awful, but somehow that did not help you focus through the embarrassing amount of lust coursing through your system.

"Mmm? Please what, my cute little wife? Please take you now, on the table? Or would you rather I carry you to bed, holding you close as my tendrils work you open to receive me? There may be others out and about as I take you to a nearby bed, precious flower of mine. Not that I mind others knowing for a fact that you are mine and mine alone to tease and pleasure in such a way." Typhus rumbles, the sneaky bastard's hands coming up to cheekily squeeze your ass cheeks.

You’d rather not be paraded around naked for who knows how long it takes him to find a bed for all to see… But the table is hard and deeply uncomfortable as it digs into your back. “Honey please, my lord. I… Would I have to be seen by others like this, on the way to bed, sir?” You’re gambling on what his likely kinks might be, from what you’ve observed of other marines throughout your centuries of life. “Wouldn’t you rather be the only one to see me like this… Shivering and wanting for you and you alone, my lord?” You spread your legs a little, hooking your ankles around his hips as best as you can, pulling him in closer, one hand coming up to caress the tentacles teasing your breasts, making it difficult for you to think. But not impossible.

His gaze nearly scorches you with the intensity at which he looks at you, before a dark chuckle rumbles through his chest and he pulls you in close, giving you another searing, breath-stealing kiss. “You are correct, my lovely rose. Now open up, let me feed you my honey.” His four of tentacles have shifted, wrapping around your back, arms and legs to keep you in place, while the fifth keeps rubbing and teasing your entrance and clit, sending waves of guilt-laced pleasure shuddering through your body.

Obediently you open your mouth wide, going “Ahhh~!” as if you’re eagerly anticipating whatever foul substance he’s calling honey is being fed to you. Even if the substance kills you, it won’t kill you for very long.

A smaller tendril, several shades lighter in color than the others comes out from his body and presses it’s way into your mouth, and he orders “close your mouth around this and swallow once your mouth is full.”

A thick, sticky substance quickly fills your mouth, and you let out a little sound of surprise as you swiftly close your lips around the appendage, swallowing as much of it down as you could. Still, you could feel some of the surprisingly sweet and delicious substance trickle out of the corners of your mouth. The appendage in your mouth flexes and slides deeper, causing you to let out a muffled sound of surprise - the cry getting louder as the tendril teasing your entrance abruptly slid deep and fast into your core, as your walls fluttered and squeezed around the breech helplessly “Mmm-Hmmm!” You garble out around the tendril.

Typhus chuckles, his glowing red eyes dark with lust “That’s it, gorgeous, you like the taste of my honey, don’t you? Take another mouthful, and try not to spell my cutely messy little wife.” He accentuated his words with a thrust of the tentacle inside your spread open cunt. You really hoped his cock was the size of the tentacle shoving itself deep inside of you. You can’t imagine being able to take anything bigger.

Shamefully, the nod you give him when he asks if you liked his honey is entirely truthful, and you can’t help the needy whines that leave you when the tentacle filling your pussy slowly slides out of you, your walls achingly empty. You can taste another gush of warp-infused honey fill your mouth, which you do manage to swallow all of this time. The tendril in your mouth retreats to merely pressing against your lips. Hazy warmth begins to envelop your mind and causes a pleasant tingling sensation to spread throughout your body. “Sorry… Didn’t meant to spill first time…” You slur out, one hand coming up to collect the spilled honey off of your cheeks and neck, licking it off your fingers as you peer up at him. “Please… Husband… Take me, in bed, for our first time?” You peer up at him through your eyelashes, pouting a little as you press your naked breasts to his corroded armor.

The rumbling sound that Typhus made almost terrified you, if not for the insistent way he nuzzled your neck, leaving little kisses and bites all the way down, from just under your ear, to where your neck met your shoulders. You realized a moment later that he was purring, and the tentacle that had shoved it’s way inside your cunt earlier was steadily pumping in and out of you, prompting needy little gasps and moans to leave you as he presses you hard against the table. “OH… I understand now why Grandfather holds onto Grandmother so closely… Why she is such a precious treasure for him… Mrrr, you are a tempting little treat, but I did promise to fuck you on a bed if you tasted my honey, and I tend to try and keep my promises.” You could hear the buzz of his demonic bees that accompanied him everywhere he went at the end of his little speech..

“Ah! Hah… Please… Amngh! Ty-... Typhus! AH… My lord! Hah… the table… hurtss…. Please my lord husband! Ah! Hah… Please!” You plead, the fuzziness in your mind and the pleasure - somehow amplified by the warmth spreading through you threatened to break what little control you had over yourself and this situation into tiny little pieces. You deliberately squeeze as tightly as you can manage around the thrusting tendril inside of you “Please… bed? Now? Oh! You… You’re gonna… haha! Make me c-cum soon, siirrr!”

The pleased growling rumble that provoked from Typhus you hoped was a good thing. “Such a good little wife I have… fuck! You are such a tempting little thing. Hold on close~!” He purrs. You feel another’s warpcraft weave it’s way across your body, and you fight the urge to resist with all your strength as Typhus teleports you and himself to somewhere else.

Wherever it is, it’s softer under your ass than the hard metal and glass table. Warmer, too as Typhus starts leaving more bites across the skin of the other side of your neck and shoulders, his tentacles teasing your breasts and bending your legs back and away, nearly folding you in half, as the tentacle fucking your cunt moves at a maddeningly quick pace, curling and shifting inside of you in all the right ways.

You hazily watch as he pulls away, his large hands fumbling with something at his waist - a metallic thunk of something hitting the floor. You're still keening and moaning at the way one of his tentacles is filling your core full when -

Something larger begins to press inside of you, while the tentacle is still inside. You realize after a moment it's Typhus' cock "Please! Husband... Lord... I... I can't take both at once! You're too big for me, I'll tear!" You plead tearfully, the pain coursing through your body so much more than the pleasure that had nearly sent you to an orgasm.

Typhus chuckles, kissing your cheeks and licking up your tears "Easy now, my cute little wife. You'll be able to fit in both, I promise. Just breathe through the pain. I'll move slowly, I promise... Though you are sinfully tight around my cock... Such a good little wife~! Good girl... Deep breaths... That's it..."

A tiny part of you hates how his praise does seem to somehow be helping you. Your breathing is jagged and shallow as the bastard continues to press in, his thick, long cock sliding in slowly alongside where one of his tentacles is already buried deep inside your cunt. It feels like it takes an eternity for him to stop pressing inside of you, and twice that for the pain to subside.

All the while, Typhus is purring lewd praises in your ear, nibbling on the skin of your neck, and drinking up your tears. "Such a good girl... My precious, eternal flower, taking all of me in... That's it, just breathe in and out as you submit to me... Good little mate. Are you ready for me to move?"

You nod weakly, well and thoroughly trapped beneath his bulk "Y-Yes, please move, lord..."

Typhus starts purring again as he alternates thrusting in with one of his tentacles and his cock, never not filling you with one of them, a filthy string of curses and praises leaving his lips as he fucks into you hard and fast.

You claw at his back, moving your hips in time to his thrusts as best as you can, the intensity of the sensations too much for you to do more than instinctually respond back, moaning wordlessly in pleasure, clinging tightly as your first orgasm hits you.

Typhus doesn't so much as slow down as your walls flutter and squeeze around him, the bastard as he continues to fuck you, somehow able to move even faster as he fucks you through your orgasm. He does, however, bite down hard on one of your shoulders, enough to draw blood.

You couldn't say how much time passed as Typhus fucked you over and over again, pulling orgasm after orgasm from your increasingly exhausted body. Eventually both his cock and the tentacle he'd been using to fuck you for what must have been hours at minimum deep inside your core at the same time, pressing up against your cervix (causing you a whimper of pain, which he ignored) flooding your womb with cum. You swore you could feel your belly begin to bulge outwards at the amount he pumped into you, prompting another whimper to leave your exhausted and chapped lips.

Typhus chuckles, kissing you again as you feel the tentacle press harder against your cervix, before feeling something other than cum begin to fill your womb, bump by bump.

"Wh... what is...?" You slur out, too tired to form the words properly, sending the sensation through the light mental bond that Typhus had formed with you during the sex at some point.

Typhus chuckled and purrs "Geneseed, lovely one. Which you will hold inside of you until it is ready to be implanted. You make a wonderful wife, my lovely little flower." He pats your lightly distended belly with an enormous hand, clearly pleased with himself. He holds you close to his body "Rest, little flower. You are safe with me."

You very much want to demand what the fuck he meant by that, but the psychic pressure behind his command - and your own exhaustion worked against you as you slumped into his embrace, sleep overtaking you.

#warhammer 40k #my writing #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #typhus x fem reader #perpetual!Reader #cw tentacles #cw dubious consent #cw attempted seduction #cw forced marriage #cw body borror #cw demon bees #cw oviposition #please tell me if I missed anything and I'll tag it #cw cumflation #Read the tags and ye be warned

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sleepyfan-blog · 22 days

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Meeting Interrupted

Author's note: This is the next part of Rotten Fate. Masterlist here. AO3

tagged: @ms--lobotomy @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

warnings: body horror, loss of autonomy, manipulation, unhealthy relationship, please ask me to tag something if I've missed it/something bothers you

Summary: You decide to interrupt Typhus' Meeting with the thousand sons. What's he going to do? Make your life worse? Hah.

Once your lust dies down to the point after you can think clearly again, you mull over your current options. Your shitty “husband” calls you little Isha from time to time. Referring to the fact that you are his captive spouse that he is unable to permanently kill, nor blight with the horrific plagues and poisons of his Patron, Nurgle. What he seems to be entirely unaware of (and, good for her) is the fact that part of the reason why Isha does not attempt to escape Nurgle - other than being relatively safe from the predation of Slaanesh… Is that Isha works against Nurgle’s plots and plans by whispering the antidotes and cures that are always effective against his plagues and poisons.

While you can’t do that - Typhus doesn’t seem to make new poisons and plagues as Host of the destroyer hive - what you can do is attempt to fuck up his plans, whatever those may be. You have no idea what his plans are at the moment, but he did ask you to stay put while he parlayed with his cousin. And you can waddle your way into causing Problems for him on purpose by interrupting the meeting.

You’re also hungry as fuck, and there is no food anywhere within Typhus’ rooms. His evil bees buzz menacingly as you approach the door that leads out of his rooms, but you glare at them “Fuck off, you ugly shits. I’m hungry as hell and he didn’t leave me anything to eat. And I’m eating for at least two with-” You pat your distended belly. You can sense the little mind growing within you. The little one does not feel tainted by Chaos… At least not yet. Part of you hopes that you’ll find a way to get the child to safety, somehow.

Between Typhus’ potent psychic abilities and you being a perpetual there is no chance that the child you’re carrying won’t be a psyker of potent ability, once you give birth to them. Whether or not they are going to be a Perpetual is ambiguous to you. Neoth sired more than a few bastards before deciding to rule Humanity as a whole - or attempt to do so. Some of them were psykers. Some were Perpetual. Most, however, were neither… Though that was long before psykery became more commonplace amongst Humanity as a whole.

The bees buzzed ominously, but apart from a full cloud of the ominous little fuckers flying around and behind you, they didn’t actually sting you this time. Which was nice, as you used a bit of psychic energy to flick the internal mechanism of the door open, through which you moved through…

The view of the hallway you were walking in was just as rank and dismal as the first time you’d seen it, having been picked up and thrown over one of Typhus’ shoulders unceremoniously… Weeks? Months? Years? Ago. You weren’t sure how long you’ve spent in Typhus’ captivity. You deliberately tried not to track the days, as the answer would only upset and distress you. You silently hoped that your crew was still alive and thriving.

You pass mumbling cultists and tiny daemons, none of whom take notice of your passage, as you are using a little bit of Psykery to go unnoticed by the beings around you as you waddle your way over to where your captor and his Very Important Guest are either talking, posturing at one another or fighting.

Or possibly a combination of all three of them.

You can tell that you’re getting close to where Typhus is, by the way that his Evil Bees have landed on the simple white dress that you’re wearing. It’s the only piece of clothing he’s given you - you haven’t been allowed even any under things or even sandals. Which made traveling through the unpleasantly biological horror of a ship that Typhus had been gifted by his Patron a wildly unpleasant experience.

You reached the door behind which was Ahriman and Typhus, along with at least a dozen of their brothers each. You drop the glamor, startling the four guards standing in front of it. You stare at the two Death Guard, ignoring the shifting and growling Thousand Sons. “I am going into that room, to talk to my husband. You can either step aside or open the door for me.”

“Who the fuck are you, and why are you dressed like that? How are you dressed like that and not -” One of the Thousand sons began to growl, reaching out to grab you.

You lean away from his touch “I would very strongly suggest you don’t try that again. My… Husband’s little helpers don’t like it when strangers try to grab me. I am a Perpetual, and unable to be affected by the…” You gesture to the filth, stagnation and decay all around you “All of this unless I explicitly allow myself to be, which I don’t. Dying like this seems like a misery.”

“What do you mean by -AAahhhh! NO no no no no! Get it off, get it off, get it off of me!” The grabby Thousand Son wailed as one of Typhus’ destroyer bees landed on his out-stretched gauntleted hand, stinger poised to plunged through the armored plate.

You snort and scoop up the angry bee, booping it on it’s snout “No. Bad bee! He didn’t do anything to try to hurt me, and stopped trying to grab me when I told him to. No stinging guests!”

The Destroyer bee buzzed unhappily in your hands, but did not sting you. You roll your eyes and settle it back on one of your shoulders. You go back to looking at the Death Guard at the door “Let me in to see my husband right now. Or I will escalate things. The Emperor of Mankind didn’t want me to stay on Terra after I left the Astartes project for a number of reasons. Do you want to find out what those are personally?”

“... No. It’s just… Oldest Brother is in the middle of delicate negotiations and -” One of the Death Guard tried to explain.

Adorable. You kind of want to pat his helmeted head. Bless his gross, bloated hearts he’s trying. You reach up and pat one of his gauntleted arms gently “Don’t worry. I will handle my husband. I”ve done quite a few negotiations, you know. During my time as a Rogue Trader and before that. I remember what it was like during the Dark Age of Technology, though those memories are dim and distant now.” You sigh, shaking your head a little. It was a shame how things had gone to such heights, before crashing and burning so spectacularly because of the Eldari being too bored and horny so they decided to try and make a new powerful warp entity.

“... As you say, Lady of Mercy.” Both of the Death Guard murmur, opening the door for you.

You blink a couple of times as you enter the main conference room of the massive spaceship. Lady of Mercy, hmm? That’s a new one. Did Typhus give it to you? Or did some of the others, now that you were here to distract him from some of his crueler pursuits at times? “Good boys.” You murmur distantly, patting them on the armored arm once again as you pass by.

Typhus and Ahriman are standing on opposite sides of the table, pointing and yelling at one another at considerable volume. There are a lot of very tense mutated astartes on both sides watching their eldest brothers having a go at each other, in regards to centuries if not millennia old slights and petty squabbling.

Ah, family. Such a messy thing it often is.

You teleport onto the table in a flash of cyan warp light, making sure to make enough sound and light to catch the attention of everyone in the room.

The yelling blessedly stops as you appear on top of the table, heavily pregnant and half-covered in Typhus’ bees. The unadorned white silk dress that fell just above your knees, the hem plunging down just far enough to give a peek at your cleavage and sleeveless, the thin straps starting to fall off of your shoulders. The pregnancy bulge of your belly quite prominent as the soft silk clings to your body,

For several seconds, there is a profound silence as the assembled Astartes process your sudden and unexpected arrival.

You allow yourself to giggle, smiling up at both Ahriman and Typhus, before demurely hiding your smile behind a hand. Your other hand coming up to cup your swollen belly, knowing that the motion would catch the attention of many in the room. “Greetings, First captain Ahriman of the Thousand Sons. I do apologize for Ty’s behavior. We were a little… Mm… Busy, when you stopped by for a visit.” You allow a demure blush to spread across your cheeks as your voice dips into a coquettish purr, your eyes going half-lidded for a moment.

The destroyer bees that were resting upon your body begin to stir and buzz, likely in response to the shifting and heightening emotions of their Host. They are the only sound being made in the room, to your unending amusement. Your incongruous presence and statements seemed to have stalled their allegedly enhanced minds. Then again Chaos rots even the best of beings.

Before things can escalate in ways that you don’t want them to, you walk over to where Typhus is standing, needing to go up on your tiptoes to kiss his corroded helm. You stage-whisper, knowing that the enhanced hearing of all of the Astartes present will allow them to hear you, if they aren’t deaf or otherwise hard of hearing, leaning into Typhus “Hubby, dearest, the baby and I are hungry… And you never told me where you keep the safe food.” You give him what you hope is a flirty pout “So I had to come find you. Your little friends were only a bit naughty.” You murmur, gently plucking up one of the ominously buzzing bees and pressing a faux-affectionate kiss to it’s unpleasantly furry and matted body before letting it go.

It buzzed back over to Typhus, swaying and flying as if it was drunk. Your amusement only increases.

No one else has yet to do or say a single thing. It’s as if they’ve all turned into very strange statues. You know they haven’t as you can sense their rapidly shifting minds and emotions plainly, but none of them have yet to actually react.

It’s very funny. It’s quite possible that none of them have seen a woman in thousands of years, and even longer since they’ve seen a pregnant one. The poor dears are dreadfully caught off guard and deeply, deeply confused. At least the Thousand Sons are. The Death Guard are mostly worried.

You tilt your head up and reach for Typhus’ helm, giving him a look of mock-concern. “Darling? Husband? Sweetheart? Why aren’t you responding?” You pout more as your nimble fingers find the catches on his helmet, pressing them in before twisting and removing his helmet, revealing his face. You set it down on the table before you close your eyes, going up on your tiptoes once again and press a kiss to his flesh-cheek. You lean against his armor -which is eternally cool to the touch and wrap your arms around his neck, batting your lashes up at him, peering through them as you ask “Husband? Typhus? Ty-darling?”

Typhus continues to stare at you with glowing, rotted eyes, seemingly transfixed to the spot. He hasn’t breathed in minutes -though you’re not sure that he needs to, given his long-ago transformation into the Herald of Nurgle.

“Who are you?” Ahriman demanded, his voice strangled and deeply confused.

“Hmm? Oh me? I’ve gone by many names, and held hundreds of titles over the course of my very, very long life. I’ve died a few times as well, but it doesn’t stick, as I am a Perpetual… After the Unification of Terra, I found myself working directly with Him for a time. As soon as the Sol system was fully conquered and He started the Rogue Trader program, I was off to the distant stars, with my first retinue in tow. I did that for several thousand years… Until honey-sweet Typhus here decided to capture me in his clever web of death and sickness. Since then I’ve been his wife, per his decision.” You sigh.

“You… A perpetual… One who has worked alongside the Carrion Emperor? How much… How much knowledge of Psykery do you possess? What could you teach those of us interested in the Arcane arts? Surely you would rather be around more psykers, rather than the fetid stink of Nurgle’s chosen Bastards?” Ahriman breathed, avarice in his voice “I would be more than willing to play the role of -”

“Don’t. You. Dare finish that sentence, you two-faced deceiver!” Typhus growled thunderously, two of his tentacles swiftly slid out from wherever he usually keeps them and wrapped securely around your body, carefully supporting the weight of the baby in your belly. He pulls you tightly to his chest, making sure not to squash your belly against his armor. “I have listened to your endless whining and plots about finding some ridiculous library that may not even exist for too long! Begone from this ship, you will have no aid from the Death Guard. If you refuse to leave, I will have you removed by force.”

Ahriman’s glare intensified “I was not speaking to you, Typhus, but the Psyker you are holding captive. Gods above only know why she seems to actually be sweet on you, though I suppose that honey of yours can addle even the greatest of minds.” His gaze shifts to you “Should you wish to leave this fetid, stinking bastard and his army of undead thralls, call for me and I shall whisk you away from all of this pungent suffering and treat you in the way that a psyker of your age and experience should be.”

With that, the first captain of the Thousand Sons sent out a psychic pulse. A moment later he and all of his brothers vanished from Typhus’ ship.

“... Awfully dramatic fellow, isn’t he?” You murmur, an amused grin appearing on your face as you look up at Typhus, trying to get a read on his emotional state. It’s difficult, with the walls that he’s put up.

“... You wouldn’t leave me for him would you?” Typhus asked, his voice surprisingly small and unsure.

You blink, throw your head back and laugh “Go with him? Please. The endless machinations of his Patron and underlings would have me in a murder-loop within the week. Would I rather be able to wander freely throughout realspace on my ship, the one you took me from? Yes. But him? Hahahaha. No. His patron is far too capricious for my tastes.” You give him a little kiss on the cheek, for emphasis.

“... I see. You mentioned being hungry, my flower?” Typhus rumbled, sounding calmer.

“Yes! Also, hand please. Unarmored.” You instruct, grabbing at one of his hands, which he gives you. It takes you a moment to take the gauntlet off, and you carefully grab the fleshy fingers of his hand, pressing them against your belly.

The little one in your belly gently kicks against the press, and Typhus gasps.

“Oh! Hello, little one. I am your papa… I am so excited to meet you, when you’re ready to enter the world.” Typhus murmured, his glowing eyes widening with awe and delight. He clicks his fingers and points at one of his brothers “Pestilan, get my wife food. The rest of you, clear this room and check to make sure those treacherous sorcerers didn’t leave any nasty surprises left for us to find for denying them their wants.”

“Yes sir!” The other Death Guards murmur at the same time, swiftly leaving the room.

#warhammer 40k #my writing #reader insert #female reader #typhus #ahriman #death guard #thousand sons #chaos space marines #typhus x fem!reader #cw manipulation #cw body horror #cw loss of autonomy #cw unhealthy relationship

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