#uriel ventris

[moulong]

9.1

uriel is my comfortzone

[magnifigal]

The Lord of the Unfleshed from the Uriel Ventris Novels. Big BIG thanks to Jackbolger18 on twitter for commissioning me and giving me the opportunity of letting me expand my skills.

[sjax001]

UltraHamsters and Guilliham

[mistermasochist]

and this horny art was drawn a week ago

I just created a special censorship for it

It`s even entertaining

you can imagine anyone but I had captain Idaeus in my mind

[casualevan]

I'm quite happy SpaceMarine2 is bringing in more fans and helping everyone realize the Practical and Theoretical of how cool the Ultramarines are. Welcome to Warhammer It is a grim and dark and terrible dystopia full of cosmic body War Horrors but that doesn't mean we can't have fun playing with toys in it.

[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.

[ladymirdan]

The fact that none of you degenerate monsterfuckers out there has been writing any Uriel Ventris/ Unfleshed fic is disgraceful.

[aqua-the-smiter]

Healing takes a long, long time. Who knows. It may never come. Cato Sicarius x female reader you are his only solace PART 3, APPARENTLY. I DON'T KNOW HOW THIS HAPPENED. Divider by @squishyowl . I'm sorry I keep @ing you but Cato is living rent fucking free in my head Song - https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0z53F9I-93M

Fall with me, come on and fall with me, into the dark and scary hole inside the bottom of the sea ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Things weren't perfect. But they seemed to be better, at least. Even if only marginally.

Cato was happier than you'd ever seen him in the weeks since you got together. At least, when he was with you. He was a surprisingly affectionate man once you got past his shell. He was still lonely, still in pain, but he had you, and he loved you. And he wasn't ashamed to show it either.

Some Ultramarines congratulated him on it. A few seemed a little envious. That one ambassador that Cato had had less pleasant dealings had glared at you like you insulted her mother. Overall though, the reaction was positive. Even Lord Guilliman seemed pleased, laying a hand on Cato's shoulder.

Astartes getting girlfriends wasn't common, but it wasn't entirely unheard of either. Most kept quiet about it. While he didn't trumpet from the rooftops about you, he wasn't afraid to kiss you or let you kiss him in public when you accompanied him, or allow you to hold his hand, or slip your hand around his elbow (as best you could) so the two of you could walk arm and arm together.

And flowers. You loved flowers, and every day when he came to you he'd present you with some, weaving them into your hair or tucking them behind your ears. You got the impression he enjoyed finding and giving them to you as much as you enjoyed receiving them, and you were filling out a whole book full of pressed and dried blooms.

He even had a pet name for you. Peahen, after the female of the numerous peafowl that inhabited Macragge. They had been brought over by early settlers and found a very comfortable niche for themselves. The males were especially pretty, with cobalt blue bodies and magnificent, long tails of green and iridescent eye spots that could spread out into a huge fan of feathers. The females were less showy, with plain brown and white feathers, but even they had a splash of bright blue and green on their necks. And the chicks were absolutely adorable.

The name always made you giggle. You supposed Cato was a like a peacock with his bright blue armor and plumed helmet. Your peacock.

For your part, you made up for things by being equally as affectionate as possible. It was pretty clear that he needed it. Giving it to him as freely as he did to you. You would let him scoop you up and carry you around just because he felt like doing it, or rest his head in your lap when he was particularly frustrated or put out. Stroking his hair, whispering to him softly that things would be just fine. He didn't seem like he believed it, but it made him happy to hear from you.

But...it was still pretty clear he wasn't doing well, and that irritated you to no end. You wanted to help him. You want to scream at everyone who made him feel like he had nobody to talk to about his troubles. And you would, too. You felt fiercely protective of him.

It was like he was in a hole. A deep, dark pit in his own head that he couldn't climb out of. Or he'd just gotten used to sitting in the dirt. Sometimes misery and pain could be awful comfortable if you lived with it long enough. Even if you didn't want it to be. Or if not that, then extremely hard to crawl out of. Like a tar pit.

And you weren't the only one who noticed his poor state, either.

Roboute Guilliman leaned back in his chair. In one hand was a mug of steaming mountain laurel tea. On a very small clear spot on his desk was a small plate that held some Eldar sweets Yvraine had brought for their weekly chat over tea. She held her teacup in the toes of her left foot, a plate in her right hand, and her gryrinx Alorynis tucked under her left arm. He kept trying to fling himself into Guilliman's lap, which he seemed to prefer because it was bigger.

He loved these meetings with her. They had become a weekly thing under the guise of "negotiation", and she was an accepted sight around the Fortress of Hera. It was nothing short of a relief to have her to talk to.

"Let him sit." Roboute said, amused as he watched the feline struggle.

"He'll get your lovely blue toga covered in sheddings." Yvraine said, sipping her tea. Placing Alorynis in his lap anyway. The gryrinx immediately curled into a happy ball, purring.

He stroked the creature's back, smiling. Although she could see it didn't reach his eyes. "I don't mind. I like cats."

"Robu, you're frowning again." She poked his wrinkled forehead. "What's on your mind this time?"

"Nothing unusual. I am concerned about one of my sons. Among other things."

"Which one?" She said, amused. "You have so many. I'm jealous."

He snorted. "Very funny, you unbearable xenos witch. It is Cato Sicarius."

"Ah yes. The one who never smiles."

"Most Astartes don't smile too often." Roboute pointed out.

"He only has two expressions from what I've seen. Grinding his teeth behind his lips, and a thousand yard stare."

"He's been happier recently. But that's because of his serf, I believe. The root problem is still there."

Despite her teasing, her expression was sympathetic. "What do you mean?"

"He used to be a very...arrogant man. He has gone through much humbling since, but I do not think all of it has been beneficial. I think he is as bad as he was in some aspects, but in the very different way. Instead of pride, it is pain that guides his actions. Although he adamantly refuses to talk about it to anyone."

"Have you tried asking him directly? He wouldn't refuse you."

"No, but forcing him to speak will do no good either. It will make him more evasive and mistrustful." He sighed. "I have asked, but only vaguely. I do not want to be overbearing to my Astartes, but I am worried about Cato. He pulls away from his brothers, and from me. He isolates himself, and wanders around in the night. There is no light in his eyes."

"Do you have any idea as to why?" Yvraine asked. "Maybe he just prefers to be alone."

"No. Some years ago, a ship he was traveling on got lost in the Warp. It was trapped for five years, aimless and constantly being invaded by daemons and Warpborn horrors. Many of his men died. I believe it has traumatized him."

Yvraine's ears flicked up in surprise. She looked sober. "I didn't know that was even possible. What does an Angel of Death need to see that will scar his mind so deeply?"

"It is very possible. Nobody likes to talk about it, but it is. Granted, it is also not common. In that you are correct. It takes a special kind of hell to leave that kind of scarring."

"But I suppose being lost in the Warp for five years is as special kind of hell."

"It is."

"He also doesn't seem to popular with your boys. I've heard some...less than flattering remarks."

"You probably hear everything with those ears." He said with a small smile. She snorted a laugh. "He is...a divisive figure. Many respect him. Many cannot stand him. I know one of my ambassadors really dislikes him."

"I've heard people calling him sexist."

"He is not. That rumor is stupid." Roboute said, thoroughly tired of it. "I thought my sons were more mature, but apparently not."

"Boys will be boys Robu." She pinched his cheek.

He sighed. "I wish to help him, but I don't know how. And..." He trailed off, uncertain of how much to share.

"Go on Robu. You know I won't breathe a word of it."

She read him like an open book. He loved that woman. "The mission I sent the Redeemed on. It is a success so far. If all goes well, I will be off to Medusa soon. If that goes well, I will need Cato then. And I will need him at his sharpest. Beyond, even."

The Redeemed were a...peculiar chapter of Astartes under Roboute's direct control. They were perfectly normal, except for the fact that it was entirely made up of former Chaos and traitor marines. He had a soft spot for them, and they were by far his best weapon against daemons and Warp spawn of all kinds.

"Ah. The thing with your brother?"

"Yes." That was the end of that train of discussion. "I know I cannot rush his healing, but I do not believe he has even begun to heal. His wounds still bleed. I fear if I try and intervene I will make things worse. I do not wish to hurt him."

"You said he had a serf he's fond of. It seems he's not entirely without comfort."

"He loves her. And it is good he has her. He does not trust his brothers with this. He does not trust me with this. Let him have her. Someone."

"I think you could reach out to him too. Don't force him, but merely inquire. Tell him you've noticed his change in behavior and be honest about your concerns. You are still his father, after a strange fashion. Maybe he could use some kind words from his Primarch. His Primarch certainly needs kind words too from time to time."

He smiled at that. "Not inaccurate. I will see what I can do. Maybe talk to his serf as well."

"See? There's the Robu I know. Always making plans." She patted his head. "And you are still as infuriating as ever." "Shut up and drink your tea before it gets cold." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It was a beautiful evening. The light of the setting sun was golden, the day was warm and the breeze was cool. It was nice enough that even the Ultramarines took notice, spending their small amount of free time outside in snatches.

Cato sighed. The wind made his robes ripple and flutter. He'd received a note inviting him to share a jug of wine and some small talk with a few other officers. His first instinct was to refuse, but then he remembered he was trying to retain some semblance of normality. So now he felt obligated to show up. He would have brought you with him, but you were fast sleep in the sunshine. Instead he'd covered you up with his cape and let you nap. You were cute like that anyway.

He found the others sitting in the shade of an old willow tree, the wind rustling the long branches. It sounded like rattling bones. Marneus, Uriel, and Demetrian were scattered across the benches around the trunk. They all looked unusually relaxed and in good spirits.

"Sicarius."

"Cato."

"Cato."

He sat on the edge of the bench Titus was on, who promptly handed him a clay cup. The liquid inside was a dark red, dry and sour tasting.

"Chapter master, Uriel, Titus." He nodded to each. "I wasn't expecting an invitation. Did anything special happen?" He asked, keeping his tone neutral.

"Can't we just want to enjoy your company?" Titus asked, smacking his shoulder.

He snorted. "Nobody enjoys my company. I thought that was established."

"That serf of yours seems to enjoy it. Congratulations on that." Uriel smiled at him. "I never would have guessed you to be the type to seek out something like that."

Titus nodded. "It's very rare, but not unheard of. I know the Chapter Master had a girl once, when he was young and attractive."

Calgar raised a grayed eyebrow. "What do you mean was?"

"Well...you are old." Uriel offered.

"Brilliant observation Ventris. It's that tactical genius that made you captain of the fourth."

Uriel and Titus both snickered at that. Cato offered a small smile at the Chapter Master's witticism. He took a sip of the wine to offset the fact that he wasn't laughing. A small one, though. It was starting to look a bit too much like blood for his comfort.

Then Marneus's gaze turned squarely on Cato. "But I'm not so old that a replacement needs to be considered yet. Sicarius."

He nearly choked on his wine. "Who, me? Absolutely not. I don't want to be Chapter Master. Keep your chair."

The thought was utterly laughable. He had aspired to it. Once. Not anymore though. he'd already proved himself too incompetent for that seat.

That earned him three raised eyebrows.

"What happened to you, Cato?" Uriel asked. "I thought you were counting down the days until Calgar was unavailable."

"I was. When I was young, and still had hope." He replied, then seeing the looks he was getting, "But it doesn't look like our venerable Chapter Master will be abdicating anytime soon." He added, forcing a joke.

"1st Captain Severus will be pleased to hear it." Titus told him with a grin.

"Seems I get a break from young upstarts for a while." Calgar said wryly.

"And when the time comes may someone worthy take your place."

He held up his cup in salute to the chapter master. Hoping that they believed his words were true. Because they were. Someone worthy. Not him.

The others raised their cups in return before taking a swig.

"Maybe one of you two." He added.

Titus shook his head. "I think I'm happier where I am."

"I never considered it." Uriel admitted. "I try to keep my aspirations reasonable."

"You would be a good pick though." Titus mused, agreeing with Cato.

He nodded.

"You have the track record." Calgar nodded slowly. "If you're not dead by the time I am, and if Agemman doesn't want to job for some reason."

"You're a hero, Uriel. The things you have accomplished go beyond even our line of duty." Cato said. "I believe you have a lot of qualities the Primarch likes to see in us as well. That might make you more a favorable choice."

"Don't sell yourself short Cato. You have done a lot of good too. Lord Guilliman wouldn't have made you captain of the Victrix for nothing."

The wine was starting to acquire an oddly metallic taste. Like iron. "Everything I have done has come off the heels of a spectacular blunder."

"I got sent off to Medrenguard because I didn't follow the Codex Astartes. Remember?"

Cato shook his head. "You did what needed to be done. I sent my men to their deaths."

"The Emperor's Will was not your fault, Sicarius." Calgar interjected. "Blaming yourself accomplishes nothing."

"And what about the losses at Damnos? Or Black Reach? I have proven time and time again that I am not a good commander."

"There is no leader of men who has only victories. Not even Lord Guilliman can claim that. You have failed, and you have failed hard. That is certainly true. But you have learned from it since. I doubt you would make the same mistakes again. Would you?"

"Of course not."

"There you have it then."

He felt a warmth in his chest for a moment before the doubts he held to be truths reasserted themselves. He had missed this. This fellowship. It was like he had been gifted a taste of the brotherhood he had lost, and he hadn't realized how bitterly he had missed it.

"That is something easier said than applied." He countered, and before he could stop himself, added. "Some things still haunt me."

It eve smelled like blood now.

Uriel nodded sagely. "I still think about the things I saw on Medrenguard sometimes. Although time has sanded the edges a great deal."

"Yes, of course." He said, a little too quickly. "It always does. But it's still unpleasant."

It didn't. He thought. Everything is still as sharp and painful as ever. Do you still smell the charnel reek? Do you still hear the screaming and moaning of the poor wretches of the Daemonculaba? Is your sleep full of daemon music and rot? Do you see Tyranids in every shadow and Iron Warriors in every doorway?

Time hadn't healed any of his wounds. He could still feel them, deep in his mind, pulsing with pain and oozing infection. That's how he felt. Like an infected wound. He had simply gotten worse and worse over time. That's why he was in this state now. Both his honor and his mind in pieces.

He wondered why they had asked him here in the first place. His hand shook, and he put the wine cup down. It all tasted like blood anyway. He wasn't like them. They were all heroes. They were everything an Ultramarine was supposed to be.

Maybe that's why he was here. So he could see everything that he wasn't.

He fell silent for the most part after that, listening to the other three and occasionally answering yes or no to some question or another. As quickly as that moment of warmth had come it was gone, and he felt hollow again.

Eventually he stood up to take his leave.

"Wait." He turned to see Titus holding out a few long sprigs of mountain laurels. Clusters of beautiful, star shaped white, pink and red flowers.

"Take these to your lady. I notice you've been bringing her flowers all the time." He said with a smile. Cato took them with a nod of gratitude.

"She likes them. Thank you."

"Good luck with her." Titus called after him, before his expression turned stony.

He was going to have to talk to someone about this. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Peahen." Cato called softly, opening the door to his quarters.

You were awake, sewing up a few ragged edges on his broad red cape. Looking up, your face broke into a wide grin when you saw him, and the gorgeous flowers he had for you. Putting your sewing down, you sprung into him like a rabbit into a trap. He gathered you up in his arms and held you tightly. Tucking the laurels into your hair.

"They're beautiful Cato. Thank you so much." You beamed at him. Cupping his cheeks in your hands, you pressed a soft kiss to his lips.

He smiled. Feeling all his earlier distress draining away as he held you close. You could see his expression soften, the tension drop from his shoulders.

"One of my brothers suggested them." He said.

"He has good taste." You ran your fingers gently over the petals. "You know you don't have to bring me flowers every day." He sat down, pulling you into his lap. "Maybe not. But seeing your eyes light up every time I present you with some makes it worth doing. I like making you happy."

You snuggled against him, as content as a cat with a stolen fish. "I appreciate it. You know I've saved every single one. I'm filling a book with them."

"Really?"

"Yep." You nodded. "I dry and press them. It's like a record of sorts. Since we...became and item."

He took your small hand in his and squeezed it.

"I want to make you happy too." You told him.

"You make me happy just by being here."

He kissed your cheek.

"You are my solace."

You pulled one of the springs of laurel from your hair and tucked it behind his ear. "You look so handsome Cato."

"I love you." He whispered. Holding you close. ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ "Titus." Roboute greeted his son as he walked into his office.

"Lord Primarch." He returned. "Am I interrupting anything?"

He sighed. "Nothing out of the ordinary, lieutenant. Is something wrong? You look troubled."

"Forgive me if this is nothing, but I felt that I needed to speak to someone about this." Titus began. "I...believe there is something going on with Cato."

To his surprise Roboute's expression darkened almost immediately. "Tell me." ------------------------------------------------------------------------------ Hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, hole-dwelling, you’re just like me

[robot-roadtrip-rants]

Uriel Ventris handles forced birth extremists by setting daemons on them. Be like Uriel and fight for the right to choose!

[mournivaldisco]

The things you find while tidying: a first edition Nightbringer, complete with artwork that is certainly, uh, this -

[maddyaddy]

ONE NOVEL.

[moulong]

I realized I haven't post this out.

So here is a short outline of the Uriel Ventris/Honsou storyline in Chapter's Due

[relax-and-read-on]

*crawl out of my hole to drop a fanfic that has been two years overdue for an update.*

Hey! Who wants to read the chapter 3 of my Uriel/Honsou arranged marriage fic :D??

[sjax001]

My headcanon Ultramarines+

[mistermasochist]

I had to redraw this cute meme x) Because its typical Ventris/Pasanius problem

[fnaftalexreader]

I'm assuming you meant my baby boi Satan, which is going to be VERY interesting... @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Uriel Ventris getting tortured by Satan (headcanons)

Angel, demon, or God Satan would definitely have their own ways of torturing him-

Before the Fall

Hoooooooo boooooooi

Satan as an angel was very... dense. And very VERY childish.

Time in Hell

While the torture would be unintentional, he still would look like a grown man acting like a little kid.

Look at this man, he's HUGE-

He doesn't look like it, but he's a toddler. A 15-foot toddler. And he would torture him in the same way a normal toddler would.

"Can I touch your armor?! Can I have your weapon?! Do you have any battle stories?! DO YOU WANNA FIGHT ME?!" *literally vibrating with excitement*

He is basically a more violent "do you have games on your phone" kid, and will. Not. Shut. Up.

A bolter to the face won't even intimidate him, because he's never seen a gun before. He's like... 7. And VERY sheltered.

He'll latch onto Uriel's tiny leg (in comparison to him, it's tiny), and just ask millions of questions, till he sees the next poor space marine to harasss.

He has no social boundaries, as angels don't have boundaries with each other. So, the moment Uriel gets fed up with Satan's behavior, it will result in this poor angel crying. He's a sensitive guy, despite his love for all things war.

He's also very much danger prone, and I could see Satan getting Uriel in trouble a LOT by accidentally making him abandon his troops.

"Look at this weird puppy! Can I keep him?!"

"...you heretical magnet of an angel, that's a flesh hound- put it down, it's dangerous!"

He's also surprisingly quiet when he wants to be, and will give the poor man a heart attack every now and again-

Thankfully, he struggles with reading. Why is this a good thing? Uriel could lie to Satan, saying if he reads the codex front to back, he too can become a space marine (or at least an honorary one, if he doesn't want to crush the poor guys hopes and dreams with false promises.)

This might work for a few days, but after a while it will get too frustrating, and he might try to rip up the poor thing out of frustration.

But before he can, Belphegor, Lucifer, Andras, Metatron, Gabriel, or someone else that likes to read will start reading the codex like a bedtime story for him.

Till their father tries to burn it, seeing it as "evil" since its knowledge outside of his own. He doesn't like his kids learning anything.

But this is pretty much how baby Satan would torture him. He'd push Uriel's flexibility to its limits with his childish nature, huge stature, and inability to understand ANY social cues, human or space marine.

After Ascension

Ah shit, here we go again.

He doesn't really change much in personality, but he is partially blind, occasionally hears voices challenging him or calling him weak, and at this point, he makes daemons of khorne seem more patient.

VERY irritable, and constantly scared, he's more like a frightened animal than a malicious demon.

But he still looks like demonic scum... if you squint, he looks like a bloodthirster. So he's chaos enough.

Satan wouldn't really attack him unprompted, let alone actually torture him.

But if he hurt other demons first? Mercy is not Satan's first thought-

"You fired at a LAMBTTEN?! I WILL RIP OUT YOUR ENTRAILS AND STRANGLE YOU WITH THEM!"

He's very overprotective of the denizens of gehenna, and-

Huh...

Now that I think about it, and what I've researched...

Satan is just demon Uriel.

They're both warriors, they both think outside the box, they're protective of the innocent...

Satan is just Uriel with anger issues, crippling cptsd, and anxiety.

I could see Satan torturing him over a misunderstanding, like Uriel attacking demonic children, thinking they're chaos scum.

Or him attacking Satan, thinking he's hurting civilians, when he's trying to protect them too. Leading to another fight that doesn't go in Uriel's favor.

At this point in his life, Satan is not strong. Not by a long shot. But he is CRAZY. He's willing to do everything and anything to protect the innocent, even it means hurting himself or others in the process.

Though he'd eventually find out what a good person Uriel is for the most part, and feel REALLY guilty for hurting him. He can respect a warrior protecting their own, he just forgets that not all who hurt children are villains.

He'd let his siblings heal him up, while he himself lays on the ground with guts between his fangs, whimpering like a bad dog who got caught ripping up the couch.

I could see them coming to an agreement in secret, like with the demon engine. Though it would be more mutually beneficial. Demons help protect the empire from chaos, and they get food for the Lambttens in return.

This would DEFINITELY get him checked for heresy again, but thankfully working with demons from gehenna doesn't corrupt your mind. You only get weird, if you already are weird. You won't have urges to fuck your mom, or murder puppies any time soon. The demons of gehenna don't want you to do that either-

But Uriel might get a little too close to being executed for heresy as again, Satan is blind. Out of all the demons, he's one of the few that would get caught a LOT due to his disability. He can "see" mainly through hearing, so the marching of an army sounds like he's already surrounded, unless he's more focused.

They might have to give him and his chapter refuge at that point, and that would slowly lead things to end up kinda like how the angelic interaction would go.

"...so can I have your bolter? I won't do anything with it, I just want to feel it-"

Uriel will not know a day without this demon fanboying over the emperor's children, if he dares to answer any of the demon's questions-

At this point in Satan's life, he has finally matured.

He's basically like Khorne, if Khorne had a zen garden.

He is a god of wrath, but also patience. A god of war and peace. A god of violence and mercy.

His domain reflects this weird balance between blood and serenity. Part of his temple is dedicated to training in all forms of combat. While another part is dedicated to meditation. There are decorative infinity pools full of blood, with an enchantment to keep the blood from rotting and stinking up the place. The air has a mix of iron, smoke, and incense filling it with their unique and oddly pleasant smell. Satan's own room has bubbling rivers of blood, zen gardens, actual gardens, and a small training area where he keeps his favorite weapons in a display near his meditation spot.

All in all, he's fucking weird.

At this point, he's a god, but he's able to take a healthier version of his demonic form. With black fur and white wool.

He's a lot more patient, as already stated, and THAT would be what tortures Uriel...

...and possibly getting accused of heresy, AGAIN-

Satan would take Uriel in, given the chance, to give him tests and challenges in an attempt to think even more outside the Codex Astartes, and whatever boxes he has in his mind in general.

He wouldn't be any real danger. Buuuuut, it would be like waking up in a saw trap, unaware that it's a normal escape room.

Satan, at this point, would torture him purely on accident. Sure, he'd wish to scare him and give him pressure, but he doesn’t want to drive the poor man mad-

If the puzzles get to be too much, Satan would give him a break, which could get mistaken for a trick of chaos.

Satan wouldn't want him to convert away from the emperor, he's just made it his life goal to help any and all warriors to be their best, most honorable selves.

I could see him and the emperor having a fight in the warp. Not a full on battle, more so an argument over Satan kidnapping warriors to train and send back out with better strategy skills-

At this point, getting tortured by Satan would just be bizarre...

But if you want headcanons on ACTUAL intentional torture, it's the same as when he was a demon. Hurt the innocent, and you get mauled.

He wouldn't care for the "kill all xenos on sight" rule, even if humanity has a good reason for it. A child is a child and must be sheltered from war, even if they are your enemies' blood.

Thankfully, Uriel's sense of honor might save him here, as the only time I've read about him threaten the innocent was when he was threatening to kamikaze a planet so the tau would back off.

But if he hurts a Lambtten, out of reflex from fighting daemon scum-

He is in for a WORLD of hurt-

Because, unlike Khorne, Satan is extremely patient at this point... sure, he could have his followers maul him as a sacrifice. But he could also make a small slit in his skin, and have him bleed to death, one milligram of blood at a time...

Is it inefficient? Yes. Will it probably take months or years for it to kill him? Probably. But Satan can wait for Uriel to beg for death, either to end his boredom or to get his agonizingly slow execution over with.

It will also give him time to think about his actions and apologize.

But surprisingly, dying from a tiny cut in your foot or hand would be Satan showing mercy in a backwards way.

If Uriel REALLY pissed him off at this age? Dude would just eat him.

Just depends on whether or not the Lambtten is just wounded or dead. If the Lambtten dies to Uriel's hand, he's getting eaten. If they're just hurt, he gets the ridiculously slow execution and plenty of time to apologize to the god and possibly the child he hurt.

I had to go to the wiki a few times and watch a whole video on him, so this might not be perfect. But I did my best with what I got :3