#ultramarine aspirants

[sleepyfan-blog]

Hunger and Thirst

Author's note: This is the second part of the Warp-cursed Guillilman fic. Original idea by @men-want-me-fish-fear-me. Masterlist is here.

tagged: @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @wolf-tail @men-want-me-fish-fear-me

If anyone else wants to be tagged, please ask

warnings: male lactation, non-consensual body modification via magic, discussions of medical experimentation, drinking questionable fluids, please ask me to tag something if I've missed it/something bothers you

summary: Four aspirants sniff out something delicious to drink. Afterwards, Asterios updates his gene-sire on the fallout of that.

“Do you smell that?” Mekanilus asked his best friend and Brother, leaning into the other boy’s slightly larger form, his body aching from the most recent surgery that he’d gone through. It was an honor beyond honors to be in training on Maccrage’s Honor, of course.. But still, the young aspirant hoped that one of the Medicae would come by to give them the all-clear so that he and Aklesius and the rest of their squad of Ultramarine-Aspirants would be allowed to go back to their shared barracks room to try and sleep off the worst of the surgery pains. If things followed according to the previous patterns, their physical training would be lighter until their surgical wounds healed…

But that meant that they would be drilled more ruthlessly on the logistical side of being an Ultramarine. How to fill out forms properly, different terms of address to the endlessly different kinds of nobles and other important kinds of officials within the Imperium. How to out-think one’s opponent and of course, how to uphold the honor of the Ultramarines, Ultramar and their Gene-sire.

“The burning-chemical smell? That’s the stuff that they use in order to keep this place clean.” Aklesius answered with a tired yawn, shrugging the shoulder that Mekanilus was leaning on “Oi! Don’t lean on me! I hurt everywhere too, and your additional weight makes me hurt more.”

“I know what that smell is. I’m talking about the new one. The sweet-creamy smell. Can’t you smell it? It smells like food and I’m so hungry…” Mekanilus grumbled, smelling the air again. His mouth was watering and he swallowed down his spit, his stomach grumbling loudly.

“What are yo- oh! I smell it too, now.” Aklesius answered, taking in a deep breath in through his nose. “Maybe it’s what we’re supposed to eat?”

“You mean the chalky tasting nutrient paste? That doesn’t have much of smell at all.” Jupitalin huffs, shaking his head a little. 

“Maybe we’ve graduated to better tasting food rations, since we survived this round of surgeries?” Amik offers, a hopeful expression on his face. 

“Hopefully. I wonder why the medicae suddenly ran off? It’s not like the emergency alarms went off, which would mean that the ship was under attack… and I don’t think anyone was scheduled to come back from a mission today…” Mekanilus sighed, yawning and stretching as much as his surgical wounds would safely allow before he stood up and followed his nose to the source of the wonderful scent, his squad-brothers following close behind him.

The four aspirants found themselves in one of the medical labs of Maccrage’s Honor. The source of the scent was some kind of milk, set on one of the counters in collection jars, for reasons none of the four aspirants could discern. It looked like regular grox-milk. It smelled better, though.

“Well, I dunno about you three, but I’m going to try it.” Mekanilus stated, walking across the lab and up to the collection jars. His hands were shaky from the painful surgery he had been out of for less than half a day, but not so shaky as to spill the bottled milk. It’s scent was even more intensely delicious when the lid of the bottle was off, and it’s sweet and hearty taste is easy for his pain-cramped stomach to hold. He drains half of the bottle before offering it to Amik, who is a step and a half behind him. “Here, try this. It tastes good and I’m already feeling better.” Some of the pain had gone away, and his breathing was already easier.

“... Are you sure that we’re supposed to drink this? It… There’s probably a reason why it’s in one of the medical labs.” Amik asked, staring at the milk in the jar, taking a small and cautious sip. His eyes lit up and he drank several large mouthfuls. “I changed my mind. This is really good!”

Aklesius has grabbed a second container of milk and drains half of it, before handing the rest over to Jupitalin as the other two talked. “Maybe it’s a new formulation of liquid rations? It reminds me of grox-milk.”

“Except Grox-milk tastes grassy. This tastes a lot better.” Jupitalin answered after taking three huge gulps to finish off the container. He put the lid back on and placed it back where Aklesius had taken it from. “Wow, whatever is in that stuff, I’m feeling a lot better. How are you three doing?”

“I’m feeling a lot better.” Amik answers, a broad grin appearing on his face. He over-stretches a little as he places the empty bottle back on the Astartes-sized counter… But finds that his stitches don’t ache in protest of the movement. In fact… His pain has faded almost entirely. “Like… A lot better.” He reaches up to cautiously prod at the surgical bandage, to see how his body would respond.

Before he can do so, however, Mekanilus gently grabbed his hand, stopping him from doing so “Hey, I know that I’m also feeling like no pain, but they told us not to go poking at our wounds while they heal. We should listen to them.”

“So you were listening, at least to part of what I told you. Did you forget that you were also told not to wander off from areas that you were explicitly told you were allowed in?” The Ultramarines chief apothecary rumbled, a small frown on his face. “What are you four doing in this lab?”

“We smelled something delicious, and since enough time passed after our surgeries that it was time for us to eat, and we were all really hungry, we found something to eat. Or… Err, drink, I suppose.” Aklesius answered, pointing to the two empty bottles of milk “We each had half of a container of that milk. It’s really good. The pain is almost gone and I’m full of energy - we all are. Sir!” He remembered to address the older Ultramarine as sir somewhat belatedly. Hopefully he wouldn’t notice.

“... You did what?” The chief apothecary asked, a flash of emotion crossing very quickly across his face before it went to a neutral frown once again. “Why would you drink something you found in a medical lab?”

Oh. Uhm. He kind of had a point there. “Because it looked and smelled like milk, sir? And I had a tiny taste before I drank half of it sir. It didn’t taste bad, nor did it trigger the poison eating gland so I figured it was safe to drink.” Mekanilus answered, shifting uneasily from foot to foot. 

“... And all four of you drank half a container of this?” The chief apothecary asks, looking each of them up and down assessingly, icy gray eyes narrowing a little.

All four Aspirants nod “Yes sir.” They know better than to lie to a superior officer, even as uncertainty and worry begins to gnaw at each of them. 

“Jamis, Meloc. I need you two in here now. Right. The four of you are going to come with me and will submit to a full physical exam. If you are dismissed, you are to report to the medical bay at the beginning of your next waking shift, and will do so every day until I instruct you otherwise.” The chief apothecary ordered, calling in two more of his fellow medical professionals. “The substance you consumed has… Comes from a unique source, but… Could potentially be very beneficial, if what the tests I have run on that substance hold true.”

“Yes sir…” Each of the four aspirants answered with an obedient nod, following after the chief apothecary, uncertainty pulling at their hearts.

~

“My liege, here are the results of the test that we have performed on the… Substance you’ve been able to produce for the past week. Additionally, These are the reports on the four Aspirants who got into the medical laboratory that held the liquid and each drank half a bottle of the substance.” Asterios reported to his Primarch, setting down the reports on the other’s desk. 

Guilliman’s eyes looked up at him, from where he had been studying recent battlefield reports on the eastern front against the Tyranid fleet, along with the reports of Eldar raiders and T’au encroachment. One of his hands had come up to rub absent-mindedly at his aching chest. He was currently out of the Armor of fate - as its additional bulk and weight caused his nipples to constantly weep the warp-cursed substance into his body-glove, and while the recycling system within the armor dealt with the liquid in the same way it dealt with his normal bodily fluids… Guilliman had decided to instead wear more casual clothes. At least, while he was upon Maccrage’s Honor. 

The Ultramarine blue toga was made of reinforced clothing that could withstand small to medium lasgun fire and every kind of bladed weapon available in the Imperium. But the cloth was much lighter against his aching chest, and its removal while he rid himself of the fluid that collected in his pectoral muscles was much, much easier than getting in and out of the chest plates of the armor of fate over a dozen times in a day. 

“Thank you for the reports. I thought that the tentative trials on the effects of this… Substance with others was to start with the captive renegade astartes held in the brig, not with aspirants of the chapter?” Father asked as he set down the report he’d been reading through and reached out for the lab results.

“As I mentioned earlier, sir. Four aspirants snuck into the laboratory that held some of the fluid you’ve been secreting. They apparently could smell the scent of the fluid and were drawn to it, my lord.” Asterios explains, keenly aware of the fact that his gene-sire was juggling much and may not have caught all of what he had said the first time that he had said it. “And as you can see, based on the results so far… The… Ah… Substance has high nourishing factors for Aspirants. Based on not only how the four aspirants were fairing before they consumed the… Substance, and after, along with how they compare to their peers, after they have been taking the substance for several weeks.”

“... I see. Have there been any signs that the substance potentially weakens the mind or will to the effects of Warp or The Arch-Enemy? Do they show any increased risks for potential mutations?” Guilliman asked. He remembered better the… Encounter he had with the entity that had gifted him with the ability to create breast milk in the first place.

Roboute found himself in a light and airy temple. Beautifully painted frescos depicting scenes of life, birth and the creation of such for animals, plants and humans scrolled across the walls. Despite the graphic nature of the artistry, it was surprisingly tasteful. Sunlight, golden and warm shone through the colored glass on the eastern side of the temple.

Flowers of every type and description grew in carefully maintained planters that surrounded the circular antechamber that Roboute found himself on the outer edges of. In the middle of the large room was a tall, radiant figure whose face was obscured by the burning golden sun behind them.

He did not know how he came to this place, and the air had a thick, not-quite-there quality to it that his dreams… And occasional visions of places that never quite were, or once had been did. The being in front of him shone with a lavender-pink light. 

The lord-commander of the Imperium cleared his throat and asked “Where am I? Who are you? Why have I been brought here?”

“Peace, Son of Anathema. I mean you no harm, nor your sons, nor the mortals aiding you. You did me a tremendous kindness, by routing the ever-hungering swarm from the worlds I care for. You work so tirelessly, and have so many children to care for. I cannot do much, but I give you a small gift. The ability to feed the many sons you care for.” The Lavender-pink entity murmured, walking towards Guilliman.

“And if I refuse this gift?” The Regent asked, taking a half-step backwards before viridian vines bound his feet and legs in place, his arms locked behind his body.

“Come now. I can see into your hearts. You dearly, desperately wish to provide for those whom you love. To eventually live a life of peace and prosperity. While I cannot grant you that, I can grant you a measure of ability to nourish and strengthen your many sons.” The being murmured, their voice a sweet-hypnotizing choir of birds and bells. They reach out and touch his forehead in benediction, even as the ever-burning golden sun flares bright and hot, searing some of the outermost plants.

The entity sighs, shaking it’s veiled face “Your Father is quite possessive, Son of Anathema. But as I do not seek to harm or kill you, He cannot reach me in the seat of my power. This blessing I bestow upon you, Roboute Guilliman, Thirteenth son of Neoth. Of Humanity. Go forth and feed your children.”

He had blinked and found himself again in the ruins of the world that he had been fighting with his sons by his side and the astra millitarum supporting them. He had thought it a hallucination, or a brief, waking dream as he had been waiting for a report and had closed his eyes for a couple of moments to center himself as the last of the Tyranids had been killed and burned.

Roboute was… Fairly certain that had actually happened, given the sheer volume of fluid he was creating. While not enough to feed every single Astartes who claimed to be of his gene-line, he had filled enough containers to have roughly three gallons of the fluid available for consumption every day, since the fluid had started to leave his body. The primarch hoped that the fluid volume would not increase, as his chest and nipples already ached quite a bit as it was.

“I see. Please continue to monitor the four aspirants along with the rest of their cohort. If it proves that this… Fluid does continue to have such a marked positive effect upon them. I…” Guilliman sighed. It felt ridiculous to say outside, but if these results held true, he couldn’t ignore how useful the substance would be in lowering the rates of surgical rejection and mortality rates of aspirants “May authorize wider-spread use of the fluid in assisting the Aspirants, at least in the days following their surgeries, to better increase the odds of successful implantation and integration of the new organs and glands into their bodies during the process of becoming an Astartes.”

“... If I may speak frankly, my lord?” Asterios asked, waiting patiently for his lord father’s response.

“Yes, you may.” Father responded with a small wave of his hand.

“I feel that to do a proper study, more aspirants would need to be put on the warp-enhanced breast milk, sire. That way we would have a larger sample size, as four individuals is not nearly a large enough for a proper medical study for a substance like this.” Asterios paused for a couple of moments, steeling himself before charging onwards. Courage and honor. Even as his Primarch watched him with an inscrutable face and Sicarius vibrated silently at his left shoulder “I would also recommend we send samples off to close allied non-Guilliman line Marines for study in how their aspirants respond to the fluid as well, if possible. I would not inform them of… Of the precise origin of the fluid of course. Merely that it is an experimental supplement to be used in testing to see if it is beneficial to aspirants during their transition to Astartes, my lord.”

“... While your suggestion has merit, I am unsure if there will be enough to do a full medical study for multiple chapters of astartes. I am… Also concerned that… As this… Ability to produce breast milk was forced upon me by a Warp Entity, that there may be… Darker or Chaotic long-term effects that off-set the short-term positive benefits that we are currently beginning to see.” Roboute answered after several long moments of contemplation “There is also the fact that none of us are certain how long the breast milk can last before it sours. Or if it is Warp-touched to the point where it cannot be affected by normal bacteria. Which would raise other concerns.”

“As you say, my lord. Do I have your permission to do a study on our own aspirants, my lord? I will ensure that all proper safety protocols will be followed and ensure that they are monitored spiritually by both a chaplain and one of the Librarius.” Asterios asked, waiting patiently for a response.

“... You do.” Guilliman answered, sighing internally. If the warp-milk truly could do what the initial results were saying it could… It would lower the rejection and death rates of Aspirants significantly… At least for those of his own gene-line. 

“Thank you, my lord. I will send you weekly updates on how the participants of the study are doing, until they become full battle brothers. Or their autopsy reports, should they fail the process, my lord.” Asterios murmured, saluting his gense-sire. He paused to pick up the filled containers of warp-milk at the edge of the room before leaving. He would ensure that it would be a double-blind medical study for the aspirants involved, to hopefully not skew the data one way or the other.

[w-40-k]

Currently listening to Prists of Mars and we're introduced to Roubute, a ship captain from Ultramar.

First tought was 'neat, a guy named after a Primarch', then I remembered that the forges of mars omibus was located relativly early in that convoluted graph covering the Horus Heresy timeline.

Probably more likely that Roubute was simply a popular name at the time Konnor named his kid.

That got me thinking. People irl tend to name their children after idols, famous people and even saints. It wouldn't be a stretch to assume that people the people of Ultramar might choose to name their kids after their Ruler and Primarch.

There's probably been an uptick in kids named Roubute after Bobby finished his power nap.

To the point, since the Ultramarines are so closely tied to Ultramar (Calgar as Lord of Ultramar, Sicarious as Grand Duke of Thasalar), I could see a tradition where you name any sons you have after famous Ultramarines, or even if you have an Ultramarine as a patron. A way to honour their protectors.

(Also the picture of Sicarious at some charity function or another, being greeted by a whole cluster of orphans, those who have especially shown promise as future aspirants, whose orphanage he patronises, all of them on their best behaviour, awestruck and wide-eyed, trying so very hard to be good and not vibrate out of their skin with excitement because that's their Hero! and they share! a name! is admittedly adorable.)

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Uriel's subtle revenge

Past =-= Next

Author's note: y'all inspired me to make a Uriel Ventris chapter with the Serf Reader. I hope y'all enjoy!

Warnings: A bit of Bully Cato, let me know if I need to add more.

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @bleedingichorhearts @kit-williams @barn-anon @c-u-c-koo-4-40k

Tagged: @i-am-a-dragon34 @egrets-not-regrets , @gra93fruit-blog

‘Sometimes,’ Uriel Thinks to himself as he carefully tracks down one particular Serf that comes from his planet of birth from a farming community near where he'd grown up, “I think Captain Sicarius believes His own hype a little too much.’

While the Captain of the Second company is an exceptional fighter with few who could match him in sword, bolter, and tactics. His personality was something that rubbed others the wrong way, like stroking a cat's fur the wrong way far too roughly.

He spots the Serf dutifully tending to their tasks, their hair pinned up and out of the way as they diligently clean the room. They look up and around, feeling eyes on them. They look into his eyes briefly before they look down and properly Bow to him, pausing their work.

“Greetings, Lord Angel,” They say with very care pronunciation.

Uriel remembers when he had Pasinius were young Aspirants and they’d been with a whole barracks full of boys within the acceptable age range from every planet within Ultramar and the teasing and mockery he and his oldest friend had gotten for their ‘hick planet accent’.

Your particular version of their shared accent is really adorable in his opinion. Even when you are trying to hide it, which is a shame in his opinion.

“Greetings Serf,” he says, allowing his Calthian accent to come through.

Their head shot up and they stared at him wide eyed for a moment. Recognizing their shared accent.

“I hear you come from a place near where I used to live,” Uriel continued. “Have the grox-cheeses in the deep caves aged into the wine-dark musk that I remember?”

“Yes, and the festival of cheese wheels happened a few months before I left, Lord Angel,” you reply, your accent thickening back to what it was before you'd come aboard the space ship.

You knew that The Angels of Ultramar are from all over the planets under the protective Custody of the Imperial Regent. But you hadn't realized that one of the farm boys of Calth had actually managed to become an Angel, from what you can read of his Armor, he's a Captain, which is somewhat high ranking. Although at least as far as you can tell, it is.

Uriel and you talk about the various festivals and celebrations that their towns share, to mark the seasons and other important Holidays and events that are celebrated either for local planetary things, or for more important Imperium wide events.

Uriel is regaling you about one of the times he had done the Space Cooper's-hill cheese rolling and wake, one Of the few that he'd participated in before becoming an Aspirant.

You had started to smile and giggle as Uriel was describing something when a voice called out, haughty, And annoyed, “tch, must you speak in such a low way Ventris?”

Uriel's smile only faded somewhat, but his eyes sharpen at the way that you were slightly edging away from the sharp, sour tones of Captain Sicarius.

Uriel allowed himself to glance towards the older Ultramarine, noticing the way he was fuming and scowling at the pair of them.

Uriel stopped himself from smirking a little bit as he realized just how Annoyed the noble-blooded Ultramarine was.

“Ah, Lassie,” Uriel drawls, thickening his accent further, glancing down at you with an innocuous smile,“th’ Cap is fair steam'd.”

“Speak. Properly,” Cato hisses at his annoying younger brother. “You are the Fourth Captain of the Ultramarines.”

Cato clenches his fists and relaxes them a couple of times. He had been going in this direction for a purpose, but what that way flew out of his head when he had heard and seen Uriel speaking with you.

And realizing one of the things is that had bugged him about you. That deeply annoyed him, throne-Cursed Ventris is also from Calth. And the little snot likes to use that accent, which no one but him and his fellow country Bumpkins can understand.

He is ignoring the fact that part of the reason he's so angry is that Ventris got you to smile and giggle at him. He should go to an Apothecary because one of his hearts had started hurting A little to see you look at a different Space Marine like that. Then the bizarre hurt turned into welcome and familiar rage.

“If you aren't doing anything important,” Cato barks at the pair of Calthians,”stop blocking the hallways and get back to work.”

You started to curl in on yourself As a hot flush of shame has your cheeks turning red. You had continued to work, albeit At a slower pace as you spoke and listened to Captain Sicarius's word.

“I think you need to dislodge your sword from your scrotum,” Ventris snarks at Cato.

Cato feels a vein start to throb in his forehead at the younger Captain’s Words." You and I need to go to the sparring ring. Now.”

“Gladly,” Uriel says, giving you a nod before following after an angrily stomping Cato.

He was glad he was able to speak with you for a little while. There aren't many fellow Calthians that go off planet.

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Hey you seem to know a lot about ultramarine husbandry! Any tips for dealing with a stray colony? Neighbors say they are all neutered but now the colony keeps leaving marinelings In my yard.

Is this a sign they trust me for free babysitting or should I be worried? I honestly don't care but their scouts keep rooting through my trash and any anti marine lock I get they break in a week.

Extra info for those asking: no I have not handled the babies, they stay in the yard where they can hide themselves in bushes. I stay on my porch. Yes one member of the colony is with them at all times.

Are the scouts "only" going on expeditions to your property, or are they living there permanently?

If it's the former case, then these are badly trained Ultramarines--hell, they probably aren't trained at all. Ultramarines are an orderly, obedient breed. While they have expansionist instincts like all Space Marines, basic training should be enough to teach them to stick to their property. They won't allow their young to go on expeditions outside their territory.

If it's the latter case, then the colony is under severe distress. They're trying to save their young by sending then to new territory (your property) with more food sources (your trash). And no, eating trash isn't a typical food source for Ultramarines, who are known for their fastidiousness. If they're eating trash, then they're desperately hungry.

Frankly speaking, the fact that your neighbors have left them intact is already a bad sign. Juvenile Space Marines of any breed require a lot of space with plenty of enrichment opportunities. It's why all reputable breeders live out in the country--an urban setting just doesn't have enough space for aspirants and scouts.

tl;dr: Call the SPCA (Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Astartes), your neighbors are trash.

[moodymisty]

My thoughts on the ultramarines and their tragic lack of drip is that GW is missing out on something very obvious, they’re missing out on a really fun garment that the blueberries could wear over their armour during battle. And that is:

Togas.

Just hear me out on this!! Togas are basically large squares of fabric, which means they can be easily mass produced (so Robby doesnt have to spend lots of money on space marine clothes). And they’re super easy to customise since, again, its just a large square of fabric. So not only would it be accurate to the lore of the legion (Ancient Rome and whatnot). It’s also a plausible in-universe option for astartes clothes (cheap and can be easily replaced if battle brother Stevius flexed too hard and ripped his tunic). And it could also be used as an interesting cape alternative if draped over some armour, because normal capes are overrated.

Also heres a bunch of toga images because togas are cool

YES! Hello fellow comrade of 'space marines in culturally accurate clothing'!! i didn't even think about togas being something really cheap and easily made in mass for a large army to wear and wear through, yet another positive.

and yes, togas are cool. I like the different styles; I'm sure there would be some diversity in a toga for a neophyte/aspirant versus a full marine, versus someone like a captain.

one of my favorite arts of guilliman has him in a toga, i wish i could find it

[just-marauders-fics-i-think]

Starchaser / Sunseeker

(Supposed Enemies - mutual pining)

They were late. Very late.

James cussed. If Sirius hadn’t insisted on putting makeup on the four of them, they probably would have made it on time. But he couldn’t hold a grudge long. Especially not one when it was his best friend.

But, if he was completely honest with himself, James had to admit that they looked great. Even Peter, who was usually not very confident about his looks, looked happy. For Wormtail, Sirius had gone with “cute” vibes, which fit little Petey very well. Remus was also quite dashing, with blue eyeshadow, a silver moon crescent next to his right eye and blue and black clothes; matching with Sirius’ silver eyeliner and black clothes.

They would be the center of attention. Even more than usual.

Or so James thought, because the instant he saw Regulus Black and his friends, his mind went blank.

*** Regulus was bored. Very bored. Barty and Evan were too focused on each other to distract him, both trying to discreetly devour the other with their eyes, but Regulus noticed. Of course he noticed. Those two had been pining so bad that it actually hurt to watch.

To be honest, Pandora had outdone herself with their outfits, today. After all, this was probably one of their last nights all together. Barty and Evan matched, because of course they did; Dorcas was gorgeous (if Regulus had been into girls, he would definitely have been into her); Pandora looked… like Pandora, with a frilly dress and doll-like makeup.

However, Regulus was bored. It had been a while since the party had begun, in the Hufflepuff common room, and he was considering leaving. That is, until he saw James fucking Potter enter the room with his goonies (the term ‘goonies’ included Sirius).

Because such an annoying boy had no right to look that hot. Nope.

James Potter? Hot? Regulus had always thought so. But James was Sirius’ best friend. He was untouchable. And he was a self-obsessed prick who probably couldn’t tell Navy blue from Ultramarine blue.

But, by Salazar, he was hot. It was unfair. Terribly unfair.

Regulus clenched his fists when his eyes met Potter’s. It was as if time had slowed down. Damned be romantic clichés.

***

Wow.

James would have liked for this eye contact never to end.

“I could drown in those eyes”, he thought. Since when was Regulus Black this gorgeous? Obviously, he had the same genes as Sirius, but still. James would definitely hit on him, if he wasn’t supposed to hate the boy’s guts. But how could he hate this sarcastic, snarky, judgmental, dangerous and possibly murderous piece of art named Regulus Black? James often prided himself in not having a type, but, somehow, Regulus was his. If he was to be completely honest with himself, this wasn’t the first time he’d felt this attraction towards Regulus. It had also happened the previous day, crossing him in the hallway. And the week before that. And the week before that. Alright, it had been a year. A year crushing on Sirius’ younger brother. He should be ashamed of himself. But he wasn’t. Of course he wasn’t ashamed. He was James Potter, after all. Beloved by the entire school, popular, and funny. Nothing to be ashamed of.

But, Merlin, how he wanted to kiss Regulus Black…

***

This was bad. Very bad. Well, he’d actually been finding Potter hot for years, but anyone attracted to guys had to have crushed on him at least once. This was normal. But it wasn’t. He was Regulus Black. A Slytherin. A Death Eater. Someone who was the poplar opposite of who James was and aspired to be. It jut wouldn’t work. They wouldn’t work. The very stars were against them. Their fates were parallel lines, doomed to see each other and love from afar, yet never to meet. No matter how much it hurt, Regulus couldn’t love this boy.

But, Merlin, how he wanted to kiss James Potter…

[revenant-prettyboy]

HI HI

I’m Syra!!!!

I’m an artist + aspiring writer, and this is going to be my warhammer blog!

I have a lot of my lil guys who run amok in my brain, so I’m really excited to share my art here, and see everyone’s ocs too! I’m hoping to make some friends who appreciate the finer things in life (asstartes)

My favorite legion is def the Blood Angels + their successors, and I am partial to the Ultramarines, Raven Guard, and Thousand Sons when the inspiration strikes

ANYWHO I’m working on getting this blog up n running, it shouldn’t be too long now - adhd gods willing

[knightinkosherarmour]

Finally decided a name for my Emperor's Children loyalists that masquerde as sons of Ferrus Manus, the Ironsong Chapter.

This is what I am going to aim for a basic color scheme

Basic ideas about the Ironsong

They have no librarians, the OG EC viewed them as a mutation that was a flaw in the way of perfection and I think the Ironsong Chapter would agree

Their chapter master's title is Artificer. They similar to the Sons of the Gorgon have a close relationship to the Adeptus Mechanicus

The fact that they are sons of Fulgrim is only known to the ten company heads and the Chapter Master, as well as their Mechanicus allies from Deimos who watch their geneseed for taint.

They have a tidally locked homeworld, where one half is a forge world, and the other is essentially a paradise world. They view recruiting aspirants from both equally as important and always have two battle brothers inducted at once one from each half

Their chapter master rules the homeworld from a monastery in the part of the planet where the two halves meet. In the battlebarge they have, there is a throne made of old artillery pieces they have captured. They are no longer kept loaded after a friendly fire incident killed their first Chapter Master

They have friendly relations with the Iron Hands and their successors. The Ultramarines have mistaken them for chaos marines at one point and had their first interchapter incident.

The role of techmarine and chaplin have been ruled into one in this chapter

[thelastomnitect]

KNIGHTS NUMENARIE BROTHERS: A Tale of Treachery & Doom

A wip of the final Custom Chapter for my upcoming Space Marine Comic, BROTHERS: A Tale of Treachery & Doom!!

The Knights Numenarie were originally meant to reinforce an Ultramarine successor chapter, but it had been wiped out prior to the emergence of the great rift. When the call was put out for free chapters to reinforce the Watch Charybdis, the Knights Numenarie requested they be assigned to the task. Swordsmasters & scholars, the Knights Numenarie are unique in that they live alongside the people of their Chapter World, directly administering the government as statesmen, administrators, and governors. They build families, befriend mortal neighbors, and live alongside those they protect. Every 3 years, the Knights host a massive celebration on their world of Ascade, known as the Tournament of Blades. Aspirants across the world who seek to join the chapter practice their swordsmanship and compete in a series of bracketed nonlethal duels, with the top fifty aspirants joining the ranks of the Chapter. In battle, the Circles of the Knights Numenarie operate as a combined arms spearhead, the tip of their spears being ranks of swordbearing chapter elite, whose skill with the blade and broad shields crush infantry and armor alike. Supporting them are well drilled teams of brothers bearing bolt rifles, support weapons, and striding to war clad in the heavy chassis of Warsuits. Keep an eye out for more concepts before the First Comic drops in LATE OCTOBER!

[thegodemperorsmycopilot]

I am surprised that no one has created or published their own Space Marine Chapter named the Twilight Kings.

There're the Angels of Twilight and the Twilight Lords, as shown below, but no Twilight Kings. Nor Princes.

So, here's a random addition to the lists of homebrewed Astartes.

Twilight Kings

The Twilight Kings are a Space Marine Chapter of unknown provenance, rumoured to be a Chapter created in secret during the second or third Foundings.

The truth is that this Chapter's original core was made up of Night Lords Great Crusade veterans - loyal to the Imperium, Terra, and the Emperor of Mankind - left behind by their Legion to ensure continued Compliance and forgotten before the Heresy truly began. The rest were survivors from the Shattered Legions, lost Dark Angels, and excess troops from the Ultramarines & Imperial Fists.

Given a far-flung system on the edges of the Imperium as their fiefdom, and a protectorate prone to Xenos-induced rebellions and Old Night heresies, their tactics and culture evolved over the millenia as their geneseed did the same, with a little help from Mechanicus biologists.

The Twilight Lords are now akin to knights of noble orders with the capacity for brutality that is only exercised for the most savage and demanding of foes. The mutations in their geneseed leave them with alabaster skin, fully white eyes, and a propensity for clairvoyance, which has led to the Chapter's Prognosticars, a unique combination of Librarian & Chaplain.

However, the geneseed is challenging for aspirants' bodies to accept, and their Chapter's numbers have been dwindling for some millenia.

Bellisarius Cawl's Primaris reinforcements were a miracle for the Chapter, bringing much needed numbers and a legacy to impart.

However, rumours circulate that the Twilight Kings' Primaris geneseed may actually be of Night Lords' stock, despite Lord Guilliman's decree.

The Twilight Lords are on the very edge of Imperium Sanctus, dealing with the Imperium-splitting Warp rift on their very doorstep as well as a Tyranid splinter fleet they've marked as Chimaerae.

Allegiance: The Imperium of Man

Faction: Adeptus Astartes

Heraldry: The Chapter's symbol is a gold crown, with subtle lightning bolts creating its pinions, on a midnight blue background. Companies are indicated on their right pauldrons by half skulls of ivory stamped with their company number occupying the aft halves and Noxean runes for squad designation & number in the bottom forward halves over a midnight blue background.

Colours: Deep purple with dark blue highlights and bleached bone accents.

Iconography: Veterans of the First Company wear suits of bone & ivory. Assault troops bear crimson helmets. Leadership positions are denoted by crimson vambraces/gauntlets and blood drops on helm and/or pauldrons. Banners are crafted from the flayed hides of their enemies and hung from squad & hero backpack poles. Symbols of death, such as bones & skulls, adorn their armour.

Homeworld: The Twilight Lords have a fortress monastery and facilities upon the moon Nyxes, which is one of three moons that orbit the planet Noches, the system's namesake. However, the Chapter's forces are stationed on defense facilities within the massive asteroid rings that surround the system itself.

System: Noches

Protectorate: The Quartraghast Nebula, Upper Eastern Fringe

Motto: Crepusculum in caligine. = In twilight shroud.

Colours (hexcode) :

- #59003e Ford Purple

- #0d407f Citadel Macragge Blue

- #ffecc1 Bleached Bone

[the-wayward-arc]

In the Main Primarch au, is Jaune a loyalist or traitor?

Confused what’s the actual canon version.

I honestly haven't settled on it, original ending had him go renegade and die, so here are the old notes copy and pasted from the document for the original ending.

"Jaune and about 80% of his legion die on Remnant along with most of Remnant population. Once the heresy was finished, the Great Scouring commenced immediately and a great forced was mustered against Remnant due to how Jaune set about the defenses. Jaune had already started the planet wide evacuation of Remnant, recalling all Remnant Citizens off world home to evacuate. By the time the evacuation was well underway, the fleets of the Ultramarines, Space wolves and White Scars attacked but were meant with the Remnant Fleet. Unfortunately the fight spilled down onto Remnant, with a planet wide assault. Jaune, his legion, and Remnant Guard held back the assault as best as they could as the evacuation continued. Jaune ordered aspirants, young marines, a handful of Dreadnoughts to escape on the Juniper. They were the Legions future now.

Only about a 1/3 of the population was able to escape, his friends, and Pyrrha along with their children escaped on the Juniper and other ships jump into deep space with their recently created Light drives, which while slower than warp travel, is much safer. They vanished to places which not even the Imperium would find them again.

Jaune would be killed by Leman Russ, but his death would then activate a weapon on Remnant that gases the whole planet with an immesnly powerful viral weapon. The remaining population, his remaining marines died and any Loyalists unable to get off world died. The entire planet consumed by the deadly fog that made it impossible for anyone to land on, from space marines to even the adeptus mechanicus, all would perish save for the ecosystem itself. Nature would retake Remnant. For 10,000 years, the Imperium would Station a chapter of Astartes to watch the "dead" world, as if waiting for something."

This idea basically opened up a sequel story with Remnant Knights returning during the great rift, taking back their Ancestral homeworld. However it wasn't a good return, the remaining Remnant Population would revere Jaune as a god over the course of generations, a twisted version of truly happened becoming their religious canon. Due to the loss of the dreadnoughts overtime, much of the Legion history was lost and what was saved just became a war like doctrine for their "god". The Sons of Jaune are treated as literally Demi-gods of war who lead the armies and fleets in a holy crusade to avenge their "god" and ancestors. They basically just became the Imperium 2.0? Or word bearers? Idk all I know is that what she was going for I guess.

I'm kinda exploring this with "The fall of Remnant" art pieces but not the whole Religious crusade for revenge type deal. Remnant Knights would come back but only to retake their homeworld and that's it, stay away from the wider galaxy as a whole.

[sleepyfan-blog]

On one hand, the reader having to carry whatever Typhus put inside her is a horrifying concept. But on the other hand I am a little bit curious if this whole thing will lead to her having his kids (since I’m pretty sure that’s what’s being implied in the fic). Because while there’s definitely the possibility of the reader’s child being some kind of horrible warp daemon in the guise of a newborn. There’s also the possibility of the opposite happening, the reader is a perpetual, which is something that can canonically be passed on from parent to child. So imagine a rotting, decaying, plague ridden Typhus hanging out with his kid, who is just completely normal. No diseases no infections no nothing, a perfectly healthy child who is unfazed by all the nurgle horror going on around them

These are some fun hypotheticals, anon! While perpetual!RT!Reader is carrying Something Else in the fic, Typhus would be... So Normal about his wife bearing him one/multiple children. So have a couple of non-canon snippets of Typhus, his child and perpetual!Reader!

warnings: body horror, kidnapping, lying

"Easy, Caeran, steady. Breathe in deeply, let your mind and hearts be still." Calas murmured to his child.

They held the training sword in both hands, trembling with effort, having tried and failed to overcome the shambling poxwalker that father had summoned for them to use as a training partner. "Yes papa." They panted out, leaning into one of his legs. They were frowning adorably in concentration.

An affectionate smile warms his face and Calas kneels before bending over and giving them a kiss on their forehead. "My fierce little warrior-priest." They had been blessed with their mother's eternal nature and had shown some additional psyker abilities. They were also, in his entirely un-biased opinion, the most wonderfully precious and precocious Aspirant to ever exist. Only a handful of his most trusted Brothers were even aware that Caeran was his son. Most of the others believed that he was merely a talented and very young psyker whom Calas had been led to by Grandfather's Will.

Caeran giggled and kissed their papa back on his cheek before returning to the sword-forms that they were learning. Several of papa's bees buzzed around them and landed on their head, watching and listening.

~

"But.. Why can't I play with the other aspirants, papa?" Caeran asked, a pout on their lips as they fold their arms over their chest, mimicking Typhus.

"Because you're stronger than they are, and you, like me and your mama, have psychic gifts given to you by Grandfather. The others do not, and psykery is often thought of as scary, especially from the awful world that I rescued them from." Typhus explained. He was not going to be moved by their adorable mimicry, nor their pouting. The newly acquired aspirants had been liberate from a corpse-worshipper world, and had yet to truly acclimatize to their new surroundings and liege lord. Ultramarines, even very young ones, were self-righteous and stubborn as fuck.

He had no desire for their foolishness to infect his child - especially as Caeran's healthy body and vibrant mind would make the soon to be converted Ultramarine Aspirants assume that they were also held captive aboard his fleet until they surrendered to Grandfather's Will.

Which wasn't true, but they had no way of knowing that.

"Mama said that it was fine if I played with them! So why are you saying no?" Caeran huffed, pouting more up at Calas.

He was not going to give into their pouting… And it seems he had a mischief-filled wife to gently scold. "Because they are confused right now. You will be able to play with them later."

"Awww… When is later going to be?" Caeran whined, looking up at him pleadingly.

"I can't say for sure. But I will tell you when you are able to… In the meantime, will you help me count the Little Lords who are wandering around on the upper decks? More of them have shown up recently." Calas asked, trying to divert his child's attention.

Caeran beamed and nodded "Yes I will papa! I love playing with them!" And they ran off to go chase the nurglings, giggling as they pitter-pattered away.

~

"-nd that was how I was able to convince the governor of Ablenshwein to join the commonwealth I once ruled over." Mama explained, smiling a little in the memory.

"If you have a commonwealth, why don't we ever visit any of those planets? Why are we always stuck on papa's ship?" Caeran asked, tilting their head a little up at you "I wanna know what grass feels like beneath my feet! I wanna know what it's like to be outside. How come we never get to leave?"

Mama's smile faded and she felt very sad for several moments before scooping them up and hugging them tight to her chest "I… Your papa is very protective over the two of us. He worries that if we go to a planet, we'll be lost to him, and he doesn't want that."

"But… But Papa says that you and I can't die. That we can't get sick, or be afflicted with the gifts of Grandfather Nurgle, like other people, which is why we look the way we do, rather than like papa or his brothers and the cultists." Caeran pointed out a confused frown appearing on their face. "How could papa possibly lose us, if we can't die?"

Mama was sad again, though she was still smiling at them. "There are other ways to lose people, other than death. He's worried that you and I would get separated from him. That he wouldn't be able to reach us."

"But that's silly! Even if papa isn't with us, some of his bees are, and he knows where all his bees are at all times." Caeran pointed out, still confused.

"Planets can be much larger than this ship, and his bees can only go so far away from him before they vanish back into the warp. Now, how well have you been able to sneak around, my heart?" Mama asks.

Caeran giggled "I was able to sneak through the vents for hours and no one noticed! I was also able to talk to the new people on papa's ship. The ones that felt scared and unhappy, like you told me to. They were really surprised that I was there, just like you said they would be! Their armor kind of reminds me of papa's, except that they're different colors and they didn't smell."

"Very good, Cae! Were you able to tell them what I asked you to?" Mama pressed, her eyes wide.

Caeran nodded "Uh-huh. I told them every word of what you told me to tell them. They thanked me for the message and were pretty confused about it. But I think that they'll listen."

"Good job. Now, you know that this is a secret between you and me. No telling papa or his bees or anyone else who obeys papa." Mama reminded them.

"Yes mama. I know mama. It's a secret surprise that you an' me are working on." Caeran huffed, rolling their eyes a little. Mama could be so silly about these things. Of course they were keeping this a secret from papa. Papa would scold him for going near the new people and causing mischief.

[corvusspecialartist]

Caring for Your Raven Guard: (Origins and Habitat)

Origins:

The Raven Guard breed initially started as the Dusk Raiders breed and were more aggressive and ruthless. At this time, the breed was similar to their Night Lord cousins, yet all the differences was the locations of the potential Marines. While, the Night Lords origins were of mixed breed, (gaining from the various criminal elements of Terra) the Raven Guard were gathered from one specific tribe. At this point, any owners could say that Raven Guard were just "pure blooded Night Lords"

However, this all changed when, Corax, the progenitor was introduced to them. Through his influence.. the breed made massive changes. While they still maintained their stealth, their mindset were changed... and while the more angry breeders say that they have "gotten softer" or "weaker" I personally think, that two breeds of Marines with VERY similar stealthy operations and temperament is too much.

Yet, this came at a deep cost, with few exceptions, there was a permanent split between the Terran and the newly introduced Deliveran type. The Terran bloods were exiled from the pack and some say that they are the forefathers of the Carcahadons breed. But others say that Corax purposely sent them off to be killed in battle. I do think that both of these equations can be true.

Currently, the Raven Guard breed are a smaller breed which some offshoots such as the Death Specters, Raptors, and others. Due to the Codex Breeding Act. This has made the breed even more rare. While, they don't have as many offshoots as say an Ultramarine breed, they almost have had lower numbers compared to their cousins. Another factor if the breed's rarity was the progenitors attempt to alter his own gene-seed, after a vicious culling from other Legion breeds. Due to internal sabotage in disguised Alpha Legion, the attempted creations were horrifying monsters, in which the father had to kill his newly created litter.

Habitat:

This breed is originated from the moon Deliverance, which orbits planet of Kiavahr. Most of the aspirants come from this planet, which while it is a Hive World, it has vast differing landscape types ranging from mountains to oceans. There's even a blighted area on the planet that where the progenitor tried to improve his chapter, but that area is cursed.

On the moon, however is where the real magic happens. After the progenitor's revolt so long ago. He took over the former masters long and black tower as a home for him and his men. This is the primary home of the Raven Guard breed.

The tower is on the moon, and is rather heavily fortified... if you wish to have a true Raven guard Marine, you MUST either A. be of rank enough of rank to have Marine guards or B. Find a traitor Raven Guard and convince him to join you. (which is highly illegal).

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Requesting Aid 2

Tagged: @sleepyfan-blog @c-u-c-koo-4-40k @i-am-a-dragon34 @ms--lobotomy @gra93fruit-blog

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @felinisnoctis @bispecsual @whorety-k @bleedingichorhearts @thevoidscreams

Tagged: @jaghatai-khock

Author's note: Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Anrir. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric & Ash'val. Thank you to @c-u-c-koo-4-40k for collaboration on writing this behemoth of an arc... and it's only still at the start and letting me borrow Khopesh. Lol.

Kerubiel had given so much, pushed himself in Every aspect of his training. Aspirant to Neophyte to Scout, watching his lessers die off one by one. Asserting (comforting) himself that He was Better. That He would survive (Praying himself near sleepless that he would survive). 

That their passing was a Mercy to them because they wouldn't survive what he could- Because he would be the Best. He exceeded expectations, and when he didn't he took his beatings, scraped himself up, and kept fighting! Showed just as much promise in Every Mission and Every Training. Pushing himself to the limit of his enhanced body, Every! Single! Day! (Because anything less would mean he'd not be worth keeping.) 

And Yet!

...

“Why wasn't I enough…?” Kerubiel asks, muffling his sobbing into Olly's shoulder. 

“...” Olly doesn't know how to respond. “I don't know.” He eventually says, but he knows he could say something better, and is aggravated with himself that he can't think of it. 

“You were always enough.” 

Both Primaris whip their heads back to see the old Dragon Approaching once again. Soon, Ash'val stands before them. 

“You…you heard?” Kerubiel asks, feeling an embarrassed blush come over him. 

The Salamander nods. “Salamanders may not Prefer Gothic but most of us can speak it.” He explains. “Also my Gothic may be pre-heresy but the language really hasn't changed that much in your time it seems.”

Olly responds with a slight embarrassed “Ah…alright then.”

“But back to the point. You two were Always enough.” Ash'val insists. 

The Scouts look away, clearly not believing him, so the old Dragon decides to try a different angle. 

“Have you heard the tale of when our Gene father Vulcan, long may he Live, rejoined our Legion?”

“...” “I know Vulcan was described to us as one of the Holy Primarchs of the Imperium.” Olly replies while Keru stays silent. “But wait…are you saying, you've actually Met a Primarch!? In person!?” The Ultramarine gasps. 

Ash'val nods. “In the obsidian flesh, here, sit with me and I will tell you.”

Both Primaris do as the old dragon says and he begins the tale. “We Salamanders had been devastated by a long conflict. Our numbers were depleted, our casualties counted in the thousands. What ships we could spare were sent with civilians and what supplies came back never seemed to be enough. We were at our end, but then…he came.” Ash'val's recollection takes on a legendary sort of awe. “He, and the forces he handpicked and armed, cut down our Xenos foe. The enemy we faced for months was burnt to ash in what felt like hours. And at the end, when the battlefield was finally quiet, we of the old Guard faced what we were certain was our replacement.”

“You feared that you would be…discarded?” Olly asks. Kerubiel remains silent, he…he had never heard such insecurities from a First Born. 

Ash'val nodded. “What more could be expected? We held our own, but clearly our betters outmatched us in every way. So…we bowed. To honor our father, and the brothers who would take our place at his side…but do you know what he did?”

The Primaris shook their heads. 

“He demanded we get up, that we stand proud because we had…given so much and saved so many…that We should not bow. Then He…he bowed to Us.”

Olly almost felt a gasp escape him. A Primarch! Bowing low to mere Space Marines!? If his own Gene Father was to bow to him he'd…he'd…

Well he doesn't know what he'd do but the very idea makes him feel like he's about to pass out. 

“And then he Took us in his arms and said we would ALL be his sons! LIKE THIS!” Ash'val says joyfully, and surprises the two Primaris by swooping them into a tight hug! 

“Woah!” “Hey now!”

Salamander strength is really no joke considering Ash'val successfully lifts Both of them in armor, even if only for a moment. He continues once he places them both down. 

“And ever since then, we Salamanders have Always accepted our new recruits with open arms. Terran, First Born, Transfers from other Legions, and the Primaris.” Ash'val explains. “Which is what I wish happened for you, and your brothers…”

Kerubiel bites his lip, “It…wasn't your fault.” He eventually says. 

“Perhaps,” Ash'val responds. “But clearly, more care will need to be taken with integrating Primaris that arrive here. They should feel welcomed, and that whatever abuse they faced in their pasts will not be tolerated by the Alliance, least of all in a territory under My protection. ”

Kerubiel and Olly both feel…stunned. But Ash'val simply claps them both on the shoulders. “The dragon rises on a New Day! Now, let's continue as we were! 50 laps! I'll give you a ten second head start. You both better keep up with this old drake or you'll both be in for barracks cleaning duty!”

“Yes sir!” “Sir yes sir!” Kerubiel pulls out his hydration ration and chugs it properly before getting a move on with Olly. 

Ash'val watches the boys fondly, but his expression does shift as he glances back down at his vox. 

‘Dark Angel Apothecary retained at Clinic. Possible involvement with attempted kidnapping of the Primaris known as Kerubiel. Administering truth drugs as soon as Anesthesia reaches appropriate level.’

Ash’val is glad that he’s able to watch over a pair of the Primaris Marines- especially one of the ones that had been almost-kidnapped. Would be thieves were going to be punished. If the younger cousins do not want to be taken, then they won’t be.

Ash'val grimaces, and seems he will need to remind the other Astarte leaders of this world what happens when you intrude upon a Dragon's nest. 

“10 seconds up! You'll be left in the dust if you don't pick up the pace, old man!” Kerubiel shouts, now much more like himself. 

Ash'val's grimace melts instantly into a challenging grin. “OH-HO-HO! I'll make you eat those words scout!” He replies, doing as promised and picking up a run after his charges. 

Kerubiel had a fierce, but a small smile on his face as he continued to run- making sure to pace himself. He and Olly were running, keeping ahead of Ash’val- for now at least. Primaris Marines are faster than most First Borns.

The more he learns about the boy’s story the more he understands why they are reluctant to reach out to their older brothers- and superior officers. The reluctance to put themselves into the hands of those who, in their time and era have proven themselves unworthy of their trust and obedience.

Still the more Ash’val learns of M42, one thought keeps going through his head is this ‘What the fuck? Why? What is wrong with M42?’

…

“And then the boys came back to reality, and we called the others to tell them.” Lullaby explains to Nanael and Atlas as they show the new arrivals the full image that Claude and Jophiel's vision had produced. 

“...” Neither of the new Primaris speak for a moment, but eventually Nanael produces one… 

“I see…” That doesn't have any curses or promises of violence he Desperately wants to include. Nanael's expression is serious, and even slightly disgusted. His wings are reminiscent of Jophiel's when he'd first seen Lullaby's … interesting looking warp presence. 

“But…What does it mean?!” Lullaby asks plaintively, “Why are they Doing this, Why do they Want to do this?! He's done nothing to them!” They feel another painful spike in their emotions and their psychery, and force it back down so it doesn't cause trouble. They still feel tears pricking at their eyes, and they wipe them away quickly. Not the time for weakness. 

“It will be Alright.” Atlas assures Lullaby. “We've already received double confirmation that Kerubiel is safe with Ash'val and Olly.”

“And Khopesh will be back before you know it. Though he may have to check in with Anrir first.” Claude supplies, giving Lullaby a gentle side hug.  

Lullaby nods. “I know. I just don't understand why…anything with this.” They say tiredly pinching the bridge of their nose. “And I Hate that.”

Nanael's expression takes on a different intense look. He and Cedric will have bastards to Hunt down soon enough. After all- harm given, is harm to be repaid. If those Dark Angels were planning on doing that to Kerubiel. Or whichever other Primaris they got a hold of, well, self defense, even a more active version of it so that those bastards don’t hurt him, or others is understandable. 

And if a portion of the Dark Angels was planning on brutally killing one of his brothers for curiosity. Well then, he’ll make them drown in their own blood. They were going to kill someone he Cherishes. Or may even go after another Primaris, should it prove too difficult to get Keru. 

Threats must be dealt with, and well, there was something in the codex about that, Ruthlessness is mercy upon one’s self. Yeah. Nanael knows he’s not fully of the Lamenter variant of the Son of Sanguinius, what else he is, he doesn’t know, Nor particularly care to find out.

“Jophie, Claude, if we point out the figures do you think you can recall more about their appearances?” Atlas posits. 

Jophiel and Claude look to each other and to Atlas, “Perhaps? I’d like to try to see if I can get more clarity if you do have pictures.”

“It can’t hurt to try.” Claude says. 

“I'll grab the paper and colored pencils!” Lullaby announces. “If we can do a Perp Sketch it could help Kerubiel and Khopesh avoid them. Especially if any of the Dark Angels had scars or other recognizable features.” They say, voicing their understanding of what Atlas was getting at. “And it will help others find them so they can be stopped…”

“They can be stopped…right?” Lullaby asks hesitantly. “Like they intended to kidnap Kerubiel, and even if This crime technically didn't happen I mean…there's got to be Something we can do right?” Lullaby asks. 

Atlas puts a comforting hand on the baselines shoulder. “We will make sure our friends do not come to harm. You have my word.”

Lullaby smiles. They know there's only so far a promise can go, but the words soothe them regardless. 

Squeak Squeak! A chirping bat call ringtone sounds on Lullabys phone and they scramble it out in a flurry. “Khopesh?! Can you hear me sweetness?”

“I am well, dear one! I am just letting you know I have Arrived back at Stone Flame but I must report to Anrir first.” Khopesh explains. 

Lullaby’s entire frame immediately uncoils most of its tension. “Thank Goodness. Also…”

“Yes my Love?” 

“I'm really happy to hear your voice.”

“Awww!”

“But! Once you're back in my arms you're also going to Tell Me Exactly how you got involved with this Dark Angel debacle.” Lullaby says without leaving room for argument. 

Nanael raises an eyebrow. “You mean he didn't brag to you about biting off a Dark Angel's arm when they tried to take Kerubiel?”

“HE DID WHAT?!” 

“NANAEL DON'T TELL THEM THAT! HOW DO YOU EVEN KNOW THAT!?”

“Cedric heard it through Zariel I believe.” Nanael smirked. “It was for a good reason, but still I Think you should have informed your partner appropriately, brother cousin.”

“YOU DID WHAT!?”

“You are getting it the next time we train, little brother cousin!” Khopesh responds through the phone to the still smirking Nanael. 

“You are coming straight back Here after you see Anrir.” Lullaby says strictly. “And you are going to help us construct the sketches of the Dark Angels so you and Kerubiel can avoid coming within 10 Miles of them until they're dealt with!”

“Yes Lullaby.” Khopesh sighs. “However, I Did have a good reason.”

“Yes, and I won't say it wasn't deserved.” Lullaby responds. “But next time just Punch the offending bastard's jaw off! DO NOT! Leave behind teeth marks, and crap tons of mouth DNA for them to find you with!”

“That!...That is fair.” Khopesh allows. “Even better, next time I will make it look like an accident. No witnesses.” He growls slyly. 

Lullaby let's out an amused huff. “Again, not saying they wouldn't deserve it…especially if they’re involved with these bastards.” Lullaby responds, shooting a dirty look at the vision image. 

Ziztz! The light above Lullaby's head flickers for a moment before they pull themselves back again. Atlas doesn't know about…that side of them, yet. 

And if anymore Marines learn about their abilities they're fairly certain Anrir will turn Grey. His hair, they mean, his skin is already pretty much that color. 

“I'm sorry our art day has been impacted in this way.” Jophiel apologizes to Lullaby and Claude as the group seats itself and prepares to make the perpetrator sketches. 

Claude smiles. “I would rather this happen, then we go forward not knowing.”

Lullaby nods, and continues to pass the colored pencils, and paper so Jophiel and Claude can draw the images of their potential enemies. Nanael and Atlas continue to examine the vision image to determine how many unique figures are present, and thus how many Dark Angels they'll need to identify. 

And thus how many graves will need to be dug.

…

“How is our Patient fairing?” Anrir asks his fellow Apothecaries. 

“Vitals are stable, we'll be ready to on-board the Sodium Thiopental in about two minutes.” Hura replies. 

“Dosage is ready when you are Apothecary Hura.” Cedric replies, having just drawn up the syringe. 

“Excellent.” Hura replies before shifting his attention to his vox. “Apothecary Zariel, how are our Other guests fairing?”

‘Sour and surly, but being complacent otherwise… for now.’ Zariel responds. ‘Best to hurry this along if possible though. No telling when they'll decide to burst in and steal back their apothecary.”

“Understood, Cedric,” Hura announces. “Get the Sodium Thiopental on board.” 

“Injecting now.” Cedric replies, double checking his syringe for air bubbles before pressing the mind altering drug into the Dark Angel's IV. 

“Mrph-mm…” The Dark Angel twitches and begins to stir, but when his eyes open they are unfocused and glassy. Perfect. 

Anrir leans over the table, “Can you hear me?” The Nightlord asks in flawless Gothic.

“Yes,” The Apothecary answers, with little to no emotion in his voice. 

Anrir nods. “Good, first of all, Who are you?”

“I am Apothecary Brother Sargent Noctis Aramais, of the Dark Angels,” He replied flatly.

“What is your current mission?” Hura asks.

“To capture alive and as intact as possible a Primaris Space Marine,” Noctis Aramias replies.

“Why have you been sent to capture a Primaris Space Marine alive?” Cedric asks, one of his hands clenching into a fist before unclenching his hands.

“The orders have come from our Chapter Master, Sammath Togroth.”

The tension in the room shifts, and Cedric finds himself stunned for a moment. A Chapter Master had ordered this? That…that would complicate things. 

If Anrir finds that information strange he does not show it. He simply continues the line of questioning. “Why does your Chapter Master want a Primaris?”

“The Chapter Master wants to see how strong and what the differences are between a Firstborn Space Marine and a Primaris Space Marine.”

“And how would this be determined?” Hura presses.

“First examine, open the body cavity and study the biological mechanics…”

“But that isn't all, is it?” Anrir prompts. “What about anesthesia?”

“No…no anesthesia. Only…hypno drugs, Chapter Master Togroth, wants…the Primaris awake. To measure stress response…Cut and take till there's...nothing left. Record findings till the Primaris expires…Collect and store usable organs as normal.” The Apothecary drones on.

Cedric feels his hearts pick up and a hot searing knife of rage cuts through him. He has to firmly hold himself back from latching his hands around the Fucking Bastards NECK and wringing it till his eyes pop out and it Snaps in his hands. 

What Cedric doesn't realize is that Anrir is not far behind him, after all if this is what they planned to do to a random Primaris, who's to say what they'd do to Khopesh who had actually offended them. But the old Nightlord is much better at keeping his emotions unseen. 

“What happened when you attempted to take the Primaris known as Kerubiel?” Anrir prompts. 

“Scout disobeyed, was antsy but…almost had him…just had to…apply the hypno drug but then-” A small amount of panicked lucidity comes back to the Dark Angel, but not enough to wake him fully. “Wretched monster with a grinning scarred mouth…lept from the trees, Teeth sinking into my Arm. Snapped it off. Get him off! GET HIM OFF KILL HIM BROTHERS! RIP HIS ARMS OFF AND WATCH HIM BLEED OU-”

Shink! Anrir jabs another dose of knock out juice right into the near thrashing Dark Angels neck, not gently at all. But the Apothecary does go limp a moment later. 

“I've heard Enough.” The elder Night lord surmises. “The amnesitics will ensure he does not recall Any of this. As for the Other issues at hand…”

“A band of rogues is one thing, but if his words are true, then we are dealing with a Far Worse conspiracy.” Hura adds. 

“No Primaris is safe…” Cedric mumbles, his tone belying the sheer overwhelmed Panic he feels. “Even if I can keep those who are already Here informed…Any new arrivals could be- They could be taken. I can't…”

“Cedric?” Hura asks, seeing the emotional outburst coming. 

“THRONE DAMMIT ALL!” Cedric snarls slamming and tossing the tray of used surgical items into a wall. (Thankfully avoiding the other medical equipment.)

“CEDRIC!?” 

“I SWORE! I-SWORE! That I wouldn't-!” Cedric feels an angry sob threaten to break through. “That I wouldn't, Let them be hurt again!” 

Both elders look on, they know a meltdown like this will need to run it's course. 

“And NOW I learn…that a fucking CHAPTER MASTER, wants to cut open one of my brother's like a fucking science experiment!?” Cedric continues to rant. “WHAT THE FUCK AM I SUPPOSED TO DO!?”

“Is this a bad time?” 

Cedric whips his head around to the door opposite to the one that lead back to the waiting area with the other Fucking Dark Angels, only to see a familiar dark eyed face staring back…

Carrying a bunch of grocery bags. 

“Khopesh, good to see you have returned.” Anrir greets his son, the relief just barely detectable in his tone. 

“But do Not step any closer, this Is meant to be a sterile zone.” Hura adds quickly. 

Khopesh snorts but does as he's told. “That's rich coming from you Death Guard. Anrir would you like me to drop these off at your quarters instead?” Khopesh lifts the bags filled with cleaning supplies, and Anrir nods. 

“In a moment. First of all…” And with surprising smoothness and speed the old Nightlord wrenches the still Very drugged Apothecary up into a sitting position so Khopesh can see his face. “Do you recognize this one?”

“Ah…yep,” Khopesh affirms, smiling in that unsettling way. “His bones made the most Satisfying crunch when I tore into them. But wait… if He's here, does that mean…?”

Cedric nods. “The other Dark Angels are through the opposite door.” He says stiffly. “You Cannot under any circumstances let them see you! Do you understand!?” 

“Cedric,” Hura calms the Black Templar from going into another spiral. “I suggest you leave the way you came, and avoid the more…public areas of the base until you receive word that our Guests have departed.”

Khopesh nods. “No worries! The only other place I need to go is the art rooms. Lullaby has asked me to come see the vision images, so that I may, ’go no closer than 10 miles to the Dark Angels until they are dealt with.’” Khopesh shakes his head a little, but he still smiles. “How am I meant to hunt them if I cannot get Close to them?”

Cedric chews his lip in response. Anrir and Hura don't respond either, and this makes Khopesh curious. 

“Hey, I'm not hunt stealing if that's what you're worried about. Kerubiel did say if these were the brainwashing type of first borns, that he'd Like me to take care of them and make it …why are you all looking so dour?” 

“Because a retinue of grabby Dark Angels are only the tip of the spear that is our problem, my son.” Anrir responds, approaching Khopesh. “The one wielding that spear is someone of higher importance, someone who will not be so easily snuffed out given his position.”

Khopesh leans in, listening intently.

“If the words of this…patient are accurate, it is the very Chapter Master of the Dark Angels, Sammath Togroth, that has given the order. An order which then spurred the events that caused You to become involved.” Anrir announces solemnly. “I'm afraid I will have to deny you your right to hunt in this case my son. We cannot move forward until we better understand how to approach our enemy.”

Khopesh's frame deflates, but surprisingly he doesn't whine or argue. “You truly believe that is all we can do? All I can do?”

Anrir smiles wryly. “I Know you are capable of much more. But I will not risk losing you to some bastard who thinks himself a man of science, when he is truly a mere sadist. And a wasteful one at that.”

Those in the room turn their attention back to the sleeping Dark Angel, each of their minds mulling over their options. That is until a ping comes over Hura's vox. 

The Death Guard reads, and an interesting smile begins to pull at the corners of his mouth. 

“What is it?” Cedric asks. 

“It is Ash'val, he is on his way to drop off the Primaris with their fellows, and wants to know what We have found.” Hura hums, and casts a look at Anrir.

Anrir's wicked smile cracks across his face, and Khopesh copies his mentor. “You've got an idea, haven't you father?”

A chuckle from the old Nightlord almost makes Cedric's stomach twist in knots and ice run up his spine. “Send the recordings we have obtained to Ash'val. Spare no detail. And make sure he sees the vision image. We want to share Everything we have found.”

Cedric feels the realization dawn. “...You're planning on siccing Ash'val on Sammath? Will that work?”

Anrir hums. “Those who think they are above justice will always try to prove their delusion my boy. What Ash'val can do that we cannot, is ensure our prey Knows there will be consequences if his paws wander too close to the Dragon's den.”

“In other words,” Khopesh supplies, “High level prey needs a high level hunter. Use a Chapter Master to Beat a Chapter Master.”

Anrir nods astutely. “Quite right. This evidence can also push him to open an investigation, which will also give Sammath pause. I'm sure he'd prefer his reputation remain untarnished, lest he bring the anger of the alliance to his doorstep.”

“So…he will be warned? Is that it?” Cedric asks incredulously. 

“For the time being.” Anrir replies dryly. “After all, we're not able to play with our prey Directly given the circumstances. We'll have to play politics first.” Anrir sighs. “Loathsome business, but if we play our cards right, we can indeed entrap our prey.”

Hura puts a comforting hand on Cedric's shoulder. “Protecting your brothers and ousting Sammath will have to be a long game, my apprentice. But take comfort that it is not one you will be playing alone.”

Cedric mulls over his next words, unsure what to say next. “I know…you are right. But I still don't like it.”

“That's bureaucracy for ya!” Khopesh chortles. “The most tedious of necessary evils, as my Lullaby says anyway! Speaking of which!” He says turning on his heel. “I've got bags to drop off and my Lullaby and other Little Brother-Cousins to see. I'll catch up with you all later~! And Cedric,”

The Black Templar perks up, and listens. 

“When you eventually get to rip those Bastards’ spines out, save a few for me, kay?” The Nightlord asks cheekily. 

Cedric, despite his worry, finds himself smiling at the Nightlord's humor. “You have my word, Brother Cousin.”

Khopesh giggle-cackles at that. “Perfect!! Kay Byyyyyyyy!” And with that the Nightlord departs the way he came. 

Cedric will link up with the other Primaris Marines, and see what they have managed to glean from the vision. As well as inform them that they have to wait on finding grave sites for the Dark Angels who had tried to steal Kerubiel, and those who had issued the order. 

The others won't be pleased about the evil necessity of bureaucracy… Well maybe Atlas Or Olly would appreciate it somewhat. But Nanael is going to be a tough one to talk down, same with Thressl. The Space wolf and the Dark Angel have rather bonded with each other hard. 

However, they will be rather pleased that Captain Ash’val will be sent to *remind* the Dark Angel Chapter Master about the Alliance between not just Chaos and Loyalist. But also between Loyalist chapters and why trying to pull some twisted shit to sate curiosity is a bad thing and that reprisals and consequences will occur should such a thing happen.

Captain Ash’val receives another message. He reads it and nods. He was just finishing The last lap with Oleandros and Kerubiel.

“Alright, come with me.” Ash'val says assertively, “training is over For now.”

The two Primaris were indeed challenged by the old Drake in their run, and they pant when they come to a stop. Where they have strength, Ash'val has experience and stamina built from years on the battlefields of the Imperium. 

“Alright- But where are we going?” Kerubiel asks. 

“To the Second Floor Art Rooms, I am going to make sure you are escorted to your fellow Primaris safely.” Ash'val clarifies, knowing it is best to be as honest with Kerubiel as possible. “We also Cannot go the direct way as certain…Guests are currently in the clinic.”

“Guests?” Kerubiel questions the emphasis put on the word. “Wait…you don't mean?”

Ash'val nods seriously. 

Kerubiel's face drains of color. “Oh…no. No no NO!” 

“Keru…” Olly puts a hand on Keru's shoulder. 

“I will Not allow them to harm you.” Ash'val swears. “If they tried I would Crush them underfoot. However, that conflict could cause collateral damage, so I would prefer to avoid that.”

Olly nods in understanding. “Right, of course.”

“Why are they even Here!?” Keru hisses, they shouldn't have any idea where he resides. 

Ash'val, despite himself, cracks a smile. “Well because their Apothecary was afflicted with a certain…malady, that he was unable to repair himself.” Then his expression shifts to one more serious than before. “Although, now that you've mentioned it, perhaps they hoped to do some reconnaissance by bringing the Apothecary Here for treatment.”

“UuuuuuAurrgh! Dammit!” Kerbiel snarls. 

“Keru…please,” Olly pleads. 

Kerubiel whips his gaze to meet Olly’s and…he softens. He forces himself to breathe. “I'm…I am alright. And I believe you, Captain.” He says, pulling himself back into order, and even stands at attention. “What is our next plan of action?”

Ash'val nods. “We will take the back way to the second floor, and meet with the other Primaris. Apparently two of your fellows received a vision, which had something to do with your run in with the Dark Angels currently stinking up our Clinic.” He explains. “You will be delivered to your fellow Primaris, and we will examine the image your brothers have drawn of the vision. Then we will plan our next move from there.” Ash'val concludes, picking up his pace again and leading the way. “Let's move out!”

“Sir yes Sir!” Both Primaris say in unison as they follow the Salamander.

…

The Art Room door opens with a creak and Lullaby whips their head up immediately. The other Primaris take notice, and stand as if to intercept a threat. 

“At ease Scouts, it is only me,” A familiar Salamander enters the room. “And I have brought your brothers.” Ash'val gestures as the two other Primaris follow his path. 

“Keru! Olly!” Lullaby books it over and immediately starts checking them for injuries, though most of their questions are aimed at Kerubiel given what they've seen. “Are you okay? Did they hurt you? Did any other Dark Angels see you?”

“Ack! I'm fine…why is it always hugs and touching with you?” Kerubiel grumbles but doesn't push Lullaby away. 

“Ash'val led us safely, we were not spotted.” Olly replies, smiling as he's fussed over.

“And what's this about a Vision?” The Dark Angel Primaris asks. 

Lullaby bites their lip and glances back to the table. “You better go see for yourself.” 

Nanael nods affirming that statement. “Indeed, this is something you Need to see.”

Olly and Kerubiel do as instructed. Leaving Lullaby and Ash'val for a moment. “Thank You, Captain” They say, sincerely. “For getting them here safely.”

Ash'val hums. “No thanks necessary, it is my duty. And my duty here is nowhere near its end.” He replies. “I also want to see this vision image.”

Lullaby nods. “Of course, but if I may ask…have you heard from or seen Khopesh? I know he's back on base…I'm probably just worrying too much.”

“I know that Khopesh is going to arrive back here soon. Anrir informed me that he's finished his delivery of requested items.” Ash'val says kindly to the concerned human, then turns attention to the Primaris and joins them.

And indeed the sight before him on the page makes his mouth twist in disgust, but he tamps it down. “How many hostiles are we potentially dealing with?” He asks. 

“We have counted at Least seven to possibly ten unique individuals in the vision, not including Kerubiel of course.” Atlas responds. 

“And we have done our best to draw individual sketches of each.” Jophiel adds.

“No vision is perfectly clear, so these are our recollections as best we could manage.” Claude says 

Ash'val nods. “I will need copies of these. And the originals will be archived for evidence.” He declares. “And None of you should approach any wandering or unfamiliar Dark Angels until this is resolved.”

“Why?”

Ash'val's attention turns to Kerubiel, who has been painfully silent ever since he laid eyes on the vision image. 

The Dark Angel Primaris's eyes are full of fire. “It was me they wanted, why do All of us need to take precaution?”

Honesty. He must be Honest for these Scouts’ safety. “Because we have reason to believe this goes deeper than a rogue group engaging in kidnapping and torture.” Ash'val responds, and then pulls up the audio logs from Anrir. 

The room goes silent as the ‘interview’ plays. Lullaby is the only one who doesn't understand because it's primarily in Gothic but again they parse certain words. 

Cut…Examine…Take…Expires…KILL, BLEED! RIP!

And they can see the horror and disgust and Rage the others feel as the message goes on. 

They'd even say they can almost Feel it. Nanael's expression actually makes it feel like cold blood it racing up their spine, it's just that chilling. 

“None of us are safe.” Claude murmurs. 

“Are you saying…they're going to try to do This,” Lullaby asks, gesturing to the image. “To someone else?”

Atlas nods grimly. “If they can capture a Primaris, be it any of us or a new arrival, I have no doubt this is what they have planned.”

*ZzztZtztz* The light flickers overhead again, as Lullaby's breathing and heart rate pick up. “They can't…” They say, trying desperately to hold in their spiraling emotions. 

“Lullaby…” Claude says worryingly, but the baseline doesn't hear him, not really. 

They're going to take them away. They're going to steal your loved ones in the night and rip them inside out…

They're going to hurt your family. 

The psychers in the room sense the shift. But before they can think of a way to diffuse the tension (And keep Lullaby from blowing their secret in front of Atlas.) Lullaby speaks again with an honestly frightening finality behind their words. 

“I Won't Let Them…”

“They Are a Nasty bunch aren't they?” The sound of a door opening and another familiar voice cuts through the tense air which seems to knock the baseline from their trance. 

“Khopesh? Khopesh!” They cry, running to their tall dark scarred love. They practically jump into his arms and kiss him, finally relieved. “You weren't seen or followed, right? They didn't hurt you?” The baseline asks, gently running their hands over his face. 

Khopesh responds by…purring. He Loves the feeling of his Lullaby's warm hands. “Rrrrrrrr, I am whole and well. But I Do find myself Drastically low on kisses.”

“...I just kissed you bat-winged Dork!” Lullaby retorts with an incredulous laugh. 

“Mmm no, Ghosk is the one with Bat Wings. Oh No! My Lullaby has forgotten me! I will have to just keep holding and Kissing you till you remember!” Khopesh cackles, as he starts peppering Lullaby's face.

“Ack! Be serious!” Lullaby can't help but giggle due to their ticklishness. 

Meanwhile the others in the room watch with varying degrees of Aw to Ew. 

“They truly are an odd pair aren't they?” Atlas hums. 

“They're a bit…overexcitable.” Nanael shrugs.

“Khopesh is over-excitable, period. It makes sense he'd find someone like that.” Jophiel responds. 

Olly nods. “They do have a tendency to amp each other up. Not a negative per se just…observing.”

Ash'val doesn't reply, simply smiles at the Scouts' reactions as they are rather funny. 

Lullaby does pull themselves together to firmly but kindly say. “But for real, there's something Awful that…didn't happen but Could still happen??” Lullaby sighs, clearly frustrated and anxious. 

Khopesh looks to the rest of the room, before bringing himself over to look at the vision image and- “Curze shit Damn that is VILE, Brilliant but VILE.” He growls. “And So fucking Wasteful to use it on anything less than the Worst of bastards. Definitely should have made those fucking Scout snatchers swallow their own fingers! Or used that severed hand to dig out their intestines or-”

“Khopesh,” Claude chimes in politely, but insistently. 

“Ahem! Ah right…” He hums awkwardly at getting too into retribution planning…again. 

No one in the room necessarily disagrees with his statements, but they do need to focus on Defense for the time being. 

“As I said. Unfamiliar or wandering Dark Angels are to be Avoided at all costs, and travel is Never to be undertaken without a Battle Buddy, even for short distances. That includes you little one.” Ash'val says to Lullaby, “They're looking for a Primaris and the Nightlord who slighted them. And there is no feasible way to separate your scent from his.” He explains. 

A more angry rumble starts in Khopesh's chest. He wraps a protective arm around his mate's shoulders. “If they even Try to lay a hand on you, I'll make them Wish for the mercy of the grave. Might take some inspiration from their own playbook…”

“...I know you would. But for now we should focus on not letting ourselves be ambushed.” Lullaby replies solemnly, and squeezes Khopesh's hand to calm him. 

“Indeed. I also need to discuss something with Anrir and Hura. Cedric should be coming around soon.” Ash'val states. 

“Do you know where Thressl is?” Olly asks. “He's been… Quiet. Recently.”

“Thressl is on Patrol.” Ash'val Replies. “He should be back in three days.”

“Thank You sir.” Olly replies with a polite nod.

Ash'val nods back and heads to the Apothecarium where the five problems are. You wouldn't know it by his stoic face or his measured stride but he is furious, absolutely seething but he's also not a fool. The words of a drugged Dark Angel and the vision are...not enough for a Conviction. They need something more.

But these items are enough to convince him to take extra care around those Dark Angels and the Chapter Master especially. Added security and sending out a warning to be wary, as well as starting an investigation on the down low.

For now he promises to commit himself to helping the Primaris feel more of a belonging. 

But first, he'll have to schedule a certain…visit. He manages to get to the room where Anrir, Cedric, Hura and Zariel are. 

“When the Dark Angel awakens, I will accompany you in seeing him and his squad off the premises.” Ash'val addresses the Apothecaries leaving no room for argument. 

“We were going to request your help in this matter,” Hura says with a smile, his tone is professional, but the edge of satisfaction sets Zariel’s teeth on edge.

“The Dark Angel should be waking up soon,” Zariel informs Ash'val.

There is some noise and arguments, the Interrogator Chaplain is snarling at one of the other Astartes who is manning the front desk. The Chaplain is trying to loom over the Iron Hand and use his rank and specialty to bully the battle brother.

“In the system it says that he's still waking up from anesthesia.” The Iron Hand says in cold apathetic tones. “Please go back to your seat or security will *remove* you from the premises Interrogator Chaplain.”

“And I am telling you, that it's taking to long!” The Interrogator Chaplain growls out.

“Surgery time can take longer, depending on if there are complications.” The Iron Hand retorts. “Please go back to your seat or leave.”

“I will not-.” The Interrogator Chaplain hisses out. Cutting himself off as he looks towards the area where his Apothecary had been whisked off to.

The argued over Apothecary is being helped by a large Salamander, with Captain markings. The Interrogator Chaplain frowns a little bit. 

“What are you doing with one of my pride?” The Chaplain asks.

“The Apothecaries who were tending to him requested that I help guide him back to his squad. Once he was mobile enough to move he insisted on being returned to you.” Captain Ash’val says levelly as he eyed one of the others involved in something unwise.

He keeps his thoughts, and Rage hidden deep within His hearts. The rest of the pride of Dark Angels approach and look over their Apothecary. Ash'val helps guide them out of the base.

“Just a random question, Salamander,” one of the battle brother Dark Angels ask, “have you seen any younger brothers of the 1st recently?”

“Perhaps, why do you ask?” Ash'val asks levelly.

“Because they need to be sent to our Base, especially if they seem… overly large, training And socialization with their brothers is important.” The Chaplain says smoothly, “and we have… concerns that a Night Lord might be trying to corrupt One.”

“That is concerning,” Ash'val says. “If … such a thing is happening. I will speak with the younger cousins.” The Dragon lies through his sharpened teeth, which he then turns into a smile. 

“In fact I think I would like to speak with Sammath, Chapter Master to Chapter Master.” Ash'val states. “So we may be certain all relevant issues are being…appropriately handled. I will of course send him a message myself, but I know his schedule is likely to be Very busy. If you could mention it in your next report to him. I would be exceptionally Grateful.”

The Chaplain seems to mull over Ash'val's words before replying. “Of course Chapter Master. We will deliver your message.”

Ash'val smiles, were he a real dragon the smoke twisting up from his maw would give him away. “Thank You. I so Appreciate, your cooperation.”

“Was there anything else that you needed?” The Chaplain asks.

“For the meeting with your Chapter Master Sammath, to be Within the month if possible.” Ash'val says pleasantly.

“We will send the message along.” The Interrogator Chaplain says with annod as they head off.

Ash'val watches them leave and wonders if they will actually go back to their base or wait for their wounds to heal and then try to steal Kerubiel or one of the others. 

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

I was looking up stuff about the Ultramarines on the Lexicanum and found this:

Now, I am perfectly willing to believe that Ultramarines are willing to literally throw babies into the wilderness. But why are they trying to recruit infants? You can't do anything with newborns, they just lie around and burble at you until their brains grow big enough for them to start doing things--and that takes years. You can't even implant organs into them, they're way too small. So basically you'd have a bunch of """"aspirants"""" sitting around doing nothing for years on the Ultramarine dime. If you waited a couple of years, then you'd have recruits ready to begin training immediately. Baby recruitment is incredibly inefficient. Guilliman would be ashamed.

[kabrumithrun]

New Fic: Ultramarine

https://ift.tt/E73jOD4 by Anonymous "Alas, all dreams end in waking. And I'm afraid today marks my time to rouse."  Mayhaps he'll grow taller, still. Tallmen are fickle like that. Infuriating with how their height and stature naturally command the stage. Unfair, is the fleeting thought crossing his mind. Though just for the briefest of seconds. The Laevigata Royal School of Theatre and Arts is exclusive to the most dedicated and hardworking of aspiring elven actors—his presence, his existence, his very breath is a contradiction. But those teakwood doors had opened for him once before. Ultramarine, cloaked behind the curtains, dimmed in the wings. "Farewell." Ultramarine, at its most vibrant, showered in dustlight and fresnel.  Words: 1042, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English Fandoms: ダンジョン飯 | Dungeon Meshi | Delicious in Dungeon Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Categories: M/M Characters: Kabru (Dungeon Meshi), Mithrun of the House of Kerensil, Milsiril of the House of Tol Relationships: Kabru/Mithrun of the House of Kerensil Additional Tags: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Boarding School, Alternate Universe - Theatre, Theatre School, Not Canon Compliant, Non-Linear Narrative, Based on Twitter fanart https://ift.tt/E73jOD4