#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.

[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…

[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

[bracketsoffear]

Sacré Bleu: A Comedy d’Art (Christopher Moore) "The story surrounds the mysterious suicide of Vincent van Gogh, who famously shot himself in a French wheat field only to walk a mile to a doctor’s house. The mystery, which is slowly but cleverly revealed through the course of the book, is blue: specifically the exclusive ultramarine pigment that accents pictures created by the likes of Michelangelo and van Gogh. To find the origin of the hue, Moore brings on Lucien Lessard, a baker, aspiring artist and lover of Juliette, the brunette beauty who breaks his heart. After van Gogh’s death, Lucien joins up with the diminutive force of nature Henri Toulouse-Lautrec to track down the inspiration behind the Sacré Bleu. In the shadows, lurking for centuries, is a perverse paint dealer dubbed The Colorman, who tempts the world’s great artists with his unique hues and a mysterious female companion who brings revelation—and often syphilis (it is Moore, after all). Into the palette, Moore throws a dizzying array of characters, all expertly portrayed, from the oft-drunk “little gentleman” to a host of artists including Édouard Manet, Paul Gauguin, Georges Seurat, Claude Monet, Camille Pissarro and Pierre-Auguste Renoir."

Fibble (Dale E. Basye) "When Marlo Fauster claims she has switched souls with her brother, she gets sent straight to Fibble, the circle of Heck reserved for liars. But it’s true—Milton and Marlo have switched places, and Marlo finds herself trapped in Milton’s gross, gangly body. She also finds herself trapped in Fibble, a three-ring media circus run by none other than P. T. Barnum, an insane ringmaster with grandiose plans and giant, flaming pants. Meanwhile Milton, as Marlo, is working at the devil’s new television network, T.H.E.E.N.D. But there’s something strange about these new shows. Why do they all air at the same time? And are they really broadcasting to the Surface? Soon Milton and Marlo realize that they need each other to sort through the lies and possibly prevent the end of the world—if Bea “Elsa” Bubb doesn’t catch them first.

The Fauster twins are caught up in yet another apocalyptic scheme as hellish figures plot to stoke a ratings war into a holy war, using elaborate lies and propaganda to provoke the end of humanity itself."

[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.

[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).

[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.

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

Death? Not Today F*ck You!

Next

Author's Note: Karlsor's debut in Mermay and Poor Unfortante souls.

Warnings: Karlsor swears a lot, some hints of violence. Also NIGHT LORD. Let me know if I need to add more

Summary: Karlsor lands on Terra and finds a Budding Blight Garden, not that he knows what that is. And makes the decision to not go near it.

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

Tagged Again: @sleepyfan-blog and @whorety-k

Karlsor is a Proud Night Lord, and one of the lucky, or unlucky bastards with enough Psyker abilities that were noticed early enough that he was dragged into training by the Libarius before the Heresy. He'd barely finished his training as a Librarian, their training exacting, harsh, demanded and with each step forward, sacrifice of blood, pain, sweat, tears, and mental health (whatever the fuck that is) was demanded of him. He's no coward, never has been, to have survived the Hell that is Nostramo, and to have been...

Either Lucky or Unlucky enough to have been grabbed by the Night Lords to be flung into a cage with a bunch of other boys around his age, some older, some younger, and then dragged into the Hell that was being an Aspirant of the Night Lords. He had never been the kindest of souls, being born and growing, surviving the fucked up hell that is Nostramo killed the weak, and beat the kindness and every good thing out of a person, until just the pure, raw, naked desire and need for Survival was all that was thought of.

Even when Lord of the Eigth Legion and the Imperium had fully taken over Nostramo, things have still been shit. There was just more technology and shit for the people to fight over. At least that's what he'd heard from the old folks who's complain and hiss about things. Fighting against the uppity Ultramarines as Father had decided to attack the holier-than-thou Primarch of the 13th legion had been a lot of fun, waking up after what had felt like had been a killing blow had been both pleasantly and unpleasantly surprise.

Pleasant, because he still is alive, unpleasant because his ribs really fucking hurt and he's in agony and likely in a cell with uppity Ultramarines ready with snide words and smug bastard-y words to lord over his failure. His tail lashes out in rage as he looks around frowning. Where the fuck his he? He's not on McCragge. Oh fuck shit. As he's dying he's getting a vision. Or something. Goody. Or he's hallucinating a Nicer Thing as he dies? What the fuck is this shit. He slowly starts moving, activating his ability to swim through the air, which is infinitely safer than trying to crawl back to the waters. Seriously.

Which fucking planet is he on? This is planet has pollution, he can smell it, but it's not the worst planet he's been on. It's almost pretty, but pretty things often hide something worse underneath. Finding the ocean took several hours of swimming through the air. At least there's only one sun in the sky, even if the sunlight is way to fucking bright in his opinion. He prefers the darkness and shadows, where the light doesn't burn his skin and eyes. Even with being an Astartes with a tougher body, he burns like a whore in church after a few minutes in the sun.

Which is going to be so delightful to feel once he's back in the water. At least he's alive to recover from his injuries and the sun trying to fuck him over more. He is really glad to get into the ocean waters, which is salinized and he almost bites through his tongue trying not to scream as his skin protests being in the ocean while being sunburnt enough that his regenerative abilities has yet to heal it and he's entirely red from where his armor doesn't protect his scales.

He swims in the ocean, healing and trying to hunt for something to eat, easily hunting a school of fish and eating the wriggling creatures whole. He has some nutri-paste but he needs to supplement it with organic matter, which is a damned pain. He also needs to figure out where the fuck he is and where some of his brothers are, as much as they are a pain in his ass and are more than half likely to try to murder him, either through straight up stabbing him or being more circumspect about it.

Psykers are viewed as being super unstable and mistrusted in the legion. Honestly, he'd commented before that it's like calling water wet, they are all unstable, lunatic murderers. The younger members of his legion are... not kinder, no one is ever really kind in the Eighth legion, but are more stupid, and ignorant, since they are younger and haven't been through as much fucked up shit as the older ones have. Getting older can be hard, especially with how much fighting they do, against the enemies of the Emperium, and at times, each other.

Still, he's glad that he's alive, in general, and its better than not being alive. That damned Ultramarine only nearly killed him. Which reminds him, he's going to find that Ultramarine and make him suffer for his failure. He hears something and slowly starts swim-stalking and he carefully stalks whatever is making noise and tilts his head from one side to another. That is the ugliest and weirdest looking reef system that Karlsor has ever seen in his life. It looks really sick and fucked up.

And there is something about it that screams WRONG at his Psyker senses. He hears demented echoing giggling. Which is. Fucking Fantastic. He's not going anywhere near the fucked up reef system, it looks cursed as fuck. While he's got an Astartes Immune system, he's not going to tempt whatever the fuck is going on with that to go after him. He's no Apothecary or specialist in Environments, but he knows that is Super Fucked and Warp-craft went into fucking it up and continuing to fuck it up. So yeah, as a trained Psyker and since no one has asked for his help, either way, and he doesn't want to go near it any way, he's going avoid that creepy ass dying reef and go somewhere hopefully a lot healthier. It's a shame, the biodiversity of the oceans of this primitive planet are almost beautiful and he's totally not stared at the plethora of vibrant colored fish swim past him in schools of hundreds.

[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

[lgbtqmanga]

New Releases Dec 26, 2023

Cherry Magic! Thirty Years of Virginity Can Make You a Wizard?! vol. 9 by Yuu Toyota

Adachi and Kurosawa are engaged, and everything’s going well. During these peaceful, happy days, Kurosawa looks back over his time with Adachi...

Meanwhile, novelist Tsuge makes a once-in-a-lifetime love confession to Minato, a younger aspiring dancer. However, Minato ghosts him?!

Even Though We're Adults vol. 7 by Takako Shimura

Though they joke that they don’t exactly have a lot to reminisce about, Akari and Ayano agree to go on a short trip together. Is it a date? Only time can tell. Back home, Wataru attempts to navigate the aftermath of the divorce and Eri struggles with her feelings for a married man.

Futari Escape vol. 4 by Shouichi Taguchi

FINAL VOLUME

Kouhai is hard-pressed by deadlines (what’s new?) and is looking (as she always is) for ways to lighten the mood. The difference? This time, she and her unemployed partner-in-crime Senpai are embarking on a journey to escape the realities of adulthood—with the help of her editor!

Mitsuka vol. 1 by akabeko

Leo is host at a nightclub, and he always thought he had no interest in men — until he slept with Takahiro, a sex worker who introduced him to pleasures he'd never felt before. Now, sex with women doesn’t satisfy him, and after begging Takahiro to sleep with him again, they agree to a “friends with benefits” arrangement.

But just when Leo thinks he may be falling in love, one of his best customers asks him to sleep with her. Takahiro catches him in the act, and things take a dark turn…

My Ultramarine Sky by Nagisa Furuya

From their first year of middle school to their second year of high school, Kai and Ren have not only always been in the same class—they’ve also always sat next to each other. But in their last year of high school, the boys are assigned to two separate classes, and with each passing day, Kai feels as if he’s slipping further and further away from Ren… One day, when Kai finds Ren sleeping in a classroom after school, he whispers the feelings that he can’t bring himself to say out loud… and Ren hears him. Will Kai’s confession draw them further and further apart, or will it be the spark that brings them back to each other once more?