#yandere space marine
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Yandere Magnus, Fulgrim, Corvux, Khan and Mortarion... please?
So uh I'm probably going to look at some of my earlier Yandere Primarchs (and Abbadon and the Emps) and redo them just so that everyone gets a small blurb
@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog
@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy
@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog
Yandere Magnus: I've mentioned somewhere that Yandere Magnus is a less intense version of a Yandere Emperor. He will still use the same tricks as his father no doubt. Shapeshifting into something alluring and pleasing to you... using his psychic gifts to find out everything about you. How you came into his notice... it could have been the most mundane thing you accidentally brushing up against him when delving into the immaterium if you are a psyker... if you are not perhaps it was just a thought you held onto tightly that just danced on by his gaze and he followed it back to it's source.
Regardless of who you are or how you caught his attention... he's looking now he's now interested! You might not have been in the dating market because things weren't going your way and the stress of trying to eek out a living was stressful enough. But soon enough things go your way and you feel like you might try to date again... and then suddenly this handsome man seems to waltz into your life... you're certain you saw him in a dream.
It practically makes your head swim with how much he knows and understands you! Fights seem to fizzle out as you've hardly met someone willing to talk through arguments like him... just everything feels so dizzingly perfect so perfect you can't help but feel blindsided when the ruse is up but by that point it's too late... but it was already far too late as you had sealed your fate with that first smile that reached your eyes as he gazed into what he considered a beautiful mind.
Yandere Fulgrim: Depend son when he is acting like a yandere... under the influence of the Leer blade is the most likely time he would indulge in those feelings he's been bottling up; that or he's always been one and each of his wives were each a darling. Fulgrim is going to try to slip a collar around your neck and hold that leash tightly so you can't leave him all while he just sweet talks you into submitting to him. All his wives had similar features to your own... they all held passion in their hobbies something you've only been able to recently indulge... You're going to LEAVE him just like they LEFT him! It wasn't fair! Why did you all have such horrifyingly short lives!
How DARE YOU! How dare they all wrap his hearts up with kisses and love and adoration holding it in their hands and EACH AND EVERYTIME THEY DIED IT DROPPED. His heart shattering every time his wives died. He swore off marrying again! But you oh his beautiful rose... he was willing to make an exception for you. Perhaps he didn't need to tie the knot in that way again he was a Primarch he could easily seduce you and just have you as his paramour... but that felt so beneath him... and unfair to you. People talk oh how they would TALK about how you would be nothing more then his fucktoy if all he did was use you for sex.
Fulgrim clenched his jaw as it was unfair you had such short blazingly BRIGHT lives. He considered killing you and preserving you so that you would never leave him. But then there would be no more smiles from you... no more soft laughs... no longer giving him the look as he gently explained things to you... you were odd...Fulgrim liked odd. Normal was overrated anyway... He could feel himself getting worked up more and more into a manic state.
Till your voice pierced the haze and he smiled at you as his mind was rolling... watching your lips move with each syllable you clearly spoke... his eyes flicked to the plain robes... those no longer would do... he'd dress you up in the prettiest of dresses and jewels like a perfect doll. "I might need to update your outfit my dear." He interrupts whatever banal thing you were telling him, "Won't you allow me to see how pretty I can make you look." He says stalking closer... oh yes he liked you... oblivious to his intentions... just the way he liked.
Yandere Corvus: He stalks as his primary method of getting close... he yearns and he silently pines for you to look at him with the same gentle looks as you give your friends and family. But the shadows are his friend and it comes less and less of yours... as you feel like you're going crazy... you feel like someone has been following you... like you're always being watched. Perhaps you shouldn't have fed those birds but its not the feeling of being watched that is driving you mad.
You can feel it in the dark... that someone else is there in the shadows... running hands over your body no matter how tightly you pull your blanket close to you at night. You feel fleeting touches in your hair, strands catching on something but there is nothing there to catch your hair... the worse one is the feeling of kisses on your skin. The whisper of your name sometimes it feels like something is trying to get your attention... other times you hear it moaned.
You even dared to get yourself checked out to see if you were a psyker but no you were not which you feel is much worse. You feel things start to slip through your fingers as you feel like you're going crazy... till you wake up one night to see something over your bed. The scream dies in your throat as you just feel so afraid to make a noise as lips ghost over your cheek "Shhh relax" is all he whispers before you pass out afraid. And unfortunately for you... you'll wake up somewhere new.
Yandere Khan: The Khan is hard to yandere because he's so normal... he's funny, he's polite, he's a bit of an ass as well, but he's also ruthless. But perhaps that's what makes him something that his brothers probably aren't... he's a successful yandere. He's successful in keeping his darling in the dark... successful in keeping his darling close all while in the background and out of sight his perversions are played out.
He holds you so tightly when he wants to be affectionate... the way he at times can drown you in affection that it's almost too much but the primarch tells you that he can't help it as his hearts get so full that he has to just show you how much he loves you. Other poetic motions that can easily hide the red flags that speed on past your eyes.
Yandere Mortarion: Sickly sweet until you try to pull away and then his selfish side comes out and you will be like a rabbit caught in a wire trap where the wire squeezes your neck tighter and tighter. Of course most of what he grows will be used to make chemical weapons but you can't help but be enamored with the beauty of the deadly garden. Though perhaps the caretaker of this deadly garden is enamored by you. He wants something nice... something soft... something sweet... and he starts off with giving gifts. He's not blind to mortals customs of courtship having more often then not been the companion that would listen to his friends, Calas mostly, tirades of not knowing what they were doing wrong and yet somehow it was himself that could point out the obvious.
It was the fact he wasn't to the standards of his fellows; apparently he was intimidating... he was ethereal... just what he would learn that there was apparently being far too attractive for your own good... at least for him on Barbaras; he knew he was skin and bones. But he liked to give you gifts from his garden... the wreaths he would weave of flowers that spoke of the depths of his love for you... how he would treasure and cherish you... how he wouldn't let you go... toxic flowers woven in as this was all done in the Barbarasian flower language. As sometimes his mind would fixate and he would realize a whole wreath was of one type of flower practically screaming out his feelings in that moment. Though he did his best to weave sentences but sometimes just he got stuck on how much he felt. Other wreathes he did not send were of all toxic and poisonous flowers... speaking of dark promises of rejected love and should another try to court you.
You were such a sweet and curious thing... smart as well but far too curious for your own good. It was really far too easy for him to lure you close with pretty flowers. Lure you in like a predatory plant... you were far too pretty to be some common insect far more like a mouse... prey too big for many to think to be caught by a plant. And yet you're lured in close with eyes wide open... and the jaws snap shut around the prey as you reciprocate with your own gift.
Just don't try to pull away... lest the vines start to suffocate.
#yandere primarchs#mortarion#jaghatai khan#magnus the red#corvus corax#fulgrim#warhammer 40k#warhammer 30k#tw: yandere#tw: stalking#yandere space marine
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A Brief Respite
Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive, Possessive, Possessive behaviour, Mention of blood, Mention of killing an animal
(Tired of all this sushi and hype around the Astartes, the man actively rejects the idea of connecting with the Space Marine who begins to hang around near their home)
You wake up again to rustling and scurrying sounds outside, it seems that even the fact that you bought a house in the wilderness did not help you escape from being stopped from being disturbed, but at least you were able to escape from something else, from this maddening fanaticism for these damn Astartes. Space Marines. Or whatever they are called? In short, from these creatures.
They came out of nowhere, speak an incomprehensible language, do whatever they want and most importantly, everyone is delighted with them (not everyone, but most people), even your shitty friends, in whom you thought you would find common sense, one after another got hooked on this shit.
You feel sick from this, you want to take a double-barreled shotgun and shoot yourself, but this is not the first time the world has gone crazy, right?
New rustling sounds outside force you to get out of bed and, throwing open the window, shout, "Get out, you garbage rat!"
For a while the sounds stop and with a feeling of deep satisfaction you wait back in bed, already closing your eyes you jump from the sound of broken glass.
Something flew through the window and slammed against the wall, falling to the floor, leaving a dark stain of blood on the wall.
You couldn't fall asleep until the morning. Only in the morning, in the light of the merciful sun, you saw a 'gift' (or a threat?) - a dead rat, or rather what was left of it after hitting the wall.
With disgust and revulsion, you threw the rat into the trash, washing the blood stain off the wall all day. You had heard enough about the manhunters among the Astartes, so the next night you slept fitfully, hugging your gun.
However, it was of little help when a huge shadow broke into your house.
#yandere headcanon#yandere male#yandere oc#yandere x reader#yandere space marine#space marine x reader#space marine oc#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#yandere#yandere warhammer#warhammer 40000#warhammer x reader#warhammer 40k x reader
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The Destiny
Summary: You desperately try to know if Gods exist. Chaplain Erebus wants to enlighten you.
Erebus/fem!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, possessive behavior, manipulation, noncon
Author's note: so it's finally happened... God-Emperor, forgive me (no)
Word count: 2666 (lol)
Song: Enigma - Sadeness (Part I)
Sade, dis-moi Qu'est-ce que tu vas chercher? Le bien par le mal? La vertu par le vice? Sade, dis-moi Pourquoi l'évangile du mal? Quelle est ta religion? Où sont tes fidèles? Si tu es contre Dieu, tu es contre l'homme Sade, es-tu diabolique ou divin?
The Imperial Truth is the only truth in the galaxy. All must adhere to it and bring its light to all corners of the universe. If anyone dares to resist or dispute it, then they are not worthy of living. Billions lived with this truth. You lived with this truth.
But for you, these were just words, a tyrannical law that all worlds were forced to follow. Perhaps there was something wrong with you, otherwise how could an ordinary citizen of the Imperium have such... heretical thoughts.
But what happened was. You did not say them out loud, did not try to change people's minds. You simply lived in your vacuum, a safe environment. Even when the Emperor announced the creation of the Order of Remembrancers, you felt nothing. Your talents could have been revealed with new strength, you could have become famous, glorified the Legion, but you did not want this. Why, when you do not believe in the truth.
If it was the truth at all.
And yet your Master Librarian gave you no choice and deliberately obtained permission for you. As if you were a slave without will. But your Master assured you that it was for your own good. It was your destiny to be part of the Crusade.
But you were not upset for long. When you realized that you had a chance to choose a Legion, you took it. Many remembrancers wanted to join the Luna Wolves or the Emperor's Children. Quite a few wanted to join the Ultramarines. But you had another goal. Although it was difficult to get to them, as the Legion refused to accept remembrancers for two years after the triumph at Ullanor. But in the end, even the Word Bearers opened their doors for them.
You were not the best historian or iterator in the general sense. The thing is, you only studied what interested you. And if something stirred your feelings, you dove into it headlong. Your master once joked that if you had your way, you would conquer the world. Part of you wanted to say that you would.
But you weren't interested in material power, wealth, or the Imperial Truth. You were far more drawn to other things. Especially religion. Faith is an unshakable feeling, and the Emperor's desire to rid himself of it seemed almost comical. No, mankind will always seek to find God. The question is which Gods are true and which are false.
You knew that Lorgar's praise of the God-Emperor was not a rumor. This legend was not invented by evil tongues to spite the primarch. No, you knew that the Word Bearers were indeed bringing a new religion to the worlds. One that had long been ignored by the Emperor before he burned Monarchia. After that, Lorgar renounced the faith.
But even though you were not a believer, you knew that faith cannot be renounced so easily. You can't get rid of this feeling that torments your heart. Makes your soul sing and glow, fills with blessed light. You can renounce religion, but not faith. And if the God-Emperor was false, then there are other true gods.
Have the Word Bearers found them? Perhaps. You immediately thought of this when you learned about Cyrene Velantion. The Blessed Lady, whose eyes lost the ability to see after the burning of Monarchia. Some chroniclers had already met her. But it was just simple curiosity or simple politeness.
You wanted something else. To know the truth. You remember you were overcome with fear before meeting the Blessed Lady. Mercy and cruelty go hand in hand. As well as love and hate. Whatever the true deity was, it was not fed only by bright emotions. There is no order, only pure chaos. You were afraid to know the truth, for you were only a mortal girl. But you could not remain in sweet ignorance. Sooner or later the truth would come and it was impossible to prepare for it.
However, Cyrene Valantion did not preach, but listened. She could not tell the Truth, since she did not know it. And yet she listened to your fears, anxieties and doubts. She did not judge you and yet asked if you really wanted to meet the Gods.
And looking straight into the portholes you understood that no, you don't want to. But the divinity won't go away from this, it won't disappear. The Immaterium that opened before your eyes captivates your mind and you regret that you only decided to look at it now.
The battle with the traitors is approaching. Horus has rebelled against the Emperor and Lorgar, along with his brothers, must give the first and last battle. To bring down the Warmaster himself. Perhaps you should have been horrified by such events or proud that you ended up on board one of the saviors of humanity.
But you felt nothing. Perhaps Horus did the right thing by rejecting the Emperor. Or maybe you were completely lost in your doubts, justifying the traitor. You didn't know. You only knew that the troubles of the material world are nothing compared to what is happening in the warp.
"Beautiful, isn't it?" - a deep languid male voice cuts through the silence and you squeak in surprise and turn around.
You had never met him face to face, but you had seen him from afar. You had heard of his influence on the Primarch. Fortunately, it was not the old and burning with hidden malice and envy Kor Phaeron. But chaplain Erebus. There was something about the man that made you want to approach him like a lamb to a shepherd… but something about his predatory eyes and gentle smile repulsed you.
“Y-yes, beautiful.” Feeling uncomfortable, you turned away from the space marine, turning your gaze back to the Warp. You did not know why, but the space behind the ship seemed safer to you than the Chaplain’s proximity.
“In truth, I was disappointed when I returned from the Warmaster. And the remembrancers have arrived here. They scurry like rats through the corridors, reveling in their uselessness. Their only role in this story is to become bloody meat,” the man said the terrible words gently, as if lulling you.
You listened to him in confusion. Of course, you guessed that the Space Marines did not like the Remembrancers much, but you did not think that one of them would say it outright. Even if he was close to Lorgar. As if he did not care. Words and actions are unimportant, and you are meat.
“But I had to admit,” his voice echoes over your spirit and you turn sharply to meet his gaze. The man leaned in, almost breathing on your shoulder. “That your zeal to touch the Gods has excited me.”
“I-I,” you gasped like a fish, while Erebus enjoyed the spectacle. “It is not what you think, I, um-”
“No wonder the Emperor exalted men. You women are so weak.” - Erebus smiled at your indignant expression and you felt fear envelop you again. - “But it is the emotionality of your gender that most strongly pushes you to worship. Beautiful servants of the Dark Gods.”
Your heart was pounding like crazy and you swallowed, trying to step back from the chaplain. Not looking him in the eyes. While the words about the Gods screamed in your head, not allowing you to think rationally.
You wanted to know the Truth. And now it is revealed right in front of you. Did you really think that everything would be so easy? Alas, but it is the chaplain who will reveal the secrets of the universe to you. The one whose face is shrouded in such impenetrable darkness that it is surprising how it has not yet swallowed the whole world.
“P-please, please, I”
“Hmm? Asking to continue? Your desire is the law.” - Erebus mocks your request, circling around you like a beast preparing to attack. - “You don’t believe in the Imperial Truths, do you?”
“I-I do,” you trembled like a leaf in the wind, looking at the floor. - “B-beloved Emperor-”
“Don’t lie to me,” a whistle pierced the air and you watched in horror as a neat cut appeared on your palms. How? Where from? - “I am your confessor and I want you to speak frankly.”
You looked at Erebus with tears in your eyes. The man was not in armor, but in a robe. His face was gentle, while his eyes looked at you with a hidden heat. You didn’t even understand how he cut you. But you knew that he enjoyed your confusion.
“N-no, I don’t believe it,” you sobbed and the man smiled even more.
“Do you believe in the God-Emperor?”
“N-no”
“And in others that you know?”
“No”
“What if I told you,” the man almost whispers, but his words sound clear in your head like the sound of a drum. “That the Gods exist? That they watch over us, are a part of us, because we created them ourselves. Where do you think they are?”
The answer did not have time to form in your head, but your body already knew where the path lies. Your eyes flew up to the porthole, looking at the shimmering purple colors of the Immaterium. Only in such a place could the Gods live. The warp itself was a sea of souls for you.
“Clever girl,” a silent cry leaves your chest as you feel heavy, massive hands on your shoulders. The man's weight pressed you to the floor, turning you to the immaterial world. - “They are right there. In the Immaterium. Waiting for us to destroy the false Emperor. When we bring the Galaxy to the true faith, to”
“To Chaos,” you either ask or state. The man behind you falls silent, before a light laugh creeps through him. The grip on your shoulders tightens. You feel the Chaplain’s fingers drop to your collarbone.
“Yes. To Chaos. But serving the Gods is not at all scary, no. I can show you the truth. You can become one of many servants.” - Erebus leans down and breathes so hotly that your ears burn. - “The Skull God will grant you the desire to taste another’s blood. The Architect of Fate will show you a great future. Grandfather will grant you health, he will take care of you. And the Dark Prince will grant you sensuality, make you his concubine.”
Silence fills the hall. Short in the material world, but it seems like an eternity to you. Before your cheek began to shine with someone else's drool and a seductive promise. A tattooed hand cupped your right breast, stroking a nipple hidden under layers of clothing.
"But I would rather make you my concubine."
You break free from someone else's grasp, overwhelmed by emotion. You look into his golden eyes again. Now you know what heat was hidden there. Lust. And Erebus wanted you to see it. He let you escape because he wanted to.
"What?" - you don't even know how to weave the words together. Doubts, fears and misunderstandings wash over you from head to toe. You felt cheated. You were played with like an insect.
"I was given the power of the Astartes, but a pathetic attempt to correct my mind failed. I have never been loyal to the Emperor and never will be. I desired blood even before the ascension. Never will I be a simple soldier, but only a servant of the Dark Forces." - a deep voice fills the silence, not giving you time to come to your senses. - “And I will never stop desiring feminine beauty, as I do now.”
“You will be my concubine. My lover. My whore.” - the man almost purrs, squeezing his hands like an ancient monk. But his words are not full of holiness. - “The world will soon change, the Imperium will fall. The Chroniclers do not have long left, but you. You have always been an outsider. I will lead you to a new era. It is enough just to throw off the shackles of the old order… you will like your destiny.”
Destiny. Your destiny is to become part of the Great Crusade. So your master told you, so the Emperor called you, announcing a new decree. You did not believe that you could bring something significant to this world by becoming a remembrancer. You did not believe in such a path, you realized the lie and falsity of what was happening.
But listening to Erebus, to your horror, you realized that you believed him. You believe that this is your destiny. To accept the will of the Dark Gods, to become their slave. And to give in to the dark temptation, to let a man tempt you. For you will not be able to hide from the Ruinous Powers, and the Emperor will not take you back into his arms. You were always a heretic, you were born to satisfy your master, who deserved a small reward from the Dark Gods.
You blink, smearing tears on your face, trying with all your might to wipe away the uninvited water. No, these are not your thoughts, these are someone else's desires. You are confused, you are scared. You have no one to ask for help. And even though Erebus is a child of Chaos, he is the only one who cares about you, he will take care of you.
What? How do you know? You are talking to him for the first time in your life.
"These are not my thoughts. This is not me. I, I" - you choke, almost falling over the pressure in your chest. - "I can't think about this, n-no, this is not my fate, not my purpose."
"Are you sure? If so, tell me this straight to my face." - a velvety voice sounded very close and raising your head, you see golden eyes with horror. A deceptively gentle smile is snow-white, but you can't stop seeing blood in the corners of his lips. - "If this is true, you will easily reject me. Tell me that you don't want this."
Pain squeezed your vice. Your heart fluttered, and your legs gave way. You desperately wanted to run away, to hide in the bowels of the ship. You reproached yourself for wanting to touch the unknown. You learned about the existence of Gods. Did it make you feel better? Did you find salvation in the truth?
Unable to bear it, you fall to your knees. If before these tears were running down your face in small streams, now you were choking on sobs. Your hands desperately wanted to grab something, just to not fall into the abyss of despair. You clung to Erebus' clothes like a drowning woman, denying that he is your doom.
"See? It's not so hard to admit your place." - the man gently strokes your head, as if you were a funny little animal, before kneeling. Rough teardrop-shaped fingers softly outline your cheekbones and curve your lips. - "I have been watching you for a long time. I could have taken you for myself a long time ago. But I had to prepare my pet. All the pieces are in place, the second betrayal is approaching."
Rough hands gently undress you, gently stroking the exposed areas of skin. And you listen to what Erebus says, wondering how quickly you fell into despair. How easy was it for you to break and turn human knowledge and arts into a slave? Were the boundaries allowed, or were they always blurred, and you were just waiting for them to finally be erased? Whatever the answer, you knew that in any case, Erebus like a boy played with you.
"We must praise all the Gods." - a tongue full of poison licks your ear before Erebus's eyes are fixed on your lips. - "But for now all the worship will go to the youngest of them."
Your kiss is sensual and tender like the sting of a scorpion.
#yandere space marine#space marine x reader#erebus x reader#tw: yandere#tw: obsession#tw: noncon#tw: manipulation
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Flowing Sea
Author's Note: More of Zariel and his brothers in Living Waters AU. Thank you to @sleepyfan-blog for letting me borrow Cedric. Thank you to @kit-williams for letting me borrow Arnault, Roland. Thank you to @egrets-not-regrets for letting me borrow Erriox, Lenora, and Mara, and helping with editing and stuff for this chapter!
Summary: Zariel and his brothers, amongst a temporary warband of brothers have gone to find and rescue Claude from the Clutches of a Grey Knight.
Warnings: Canon typical violence
Past =-= Next
Tagged: @barn-anon, @bleedingichorhearts, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @egrets-not-regrets, @kit-williams,
Tagged continued: @sleepyfan-blog, @whorety-k, @ms--lobotomy @bispecsual @thevoidscreams
Tagged continued: @i-am-a-dragon34, @gra93fruit-blog
It takes a week of tracking and hunting- and magic woven spells to find them. Lana finds Claude first- knowing the shape and feel of his soul and magic much better, having known him for months. Zariel and his brothers had listened to the plans the rest of the Space Marines had come up with and agreed to support them, while also making their own plans and how to survive this encounter.
“Knight of Grey,” Erriox growls out- projecting his voice, using his external vox to get the other’s attention.
He sees the way Claude looks at him- half hopeful, half terrified. The rest of the motley crew of Astartes nearby, the rest of Claude’s brothers were in tactically protected locations, for now at least. Cedric ready with some of the other Apothecaries that they brought- not just for Claude, but should this fight turn on them- to help patch up and pull them back, if need be.
Zariel eyes the poor Scout- his Apothecary training chiming in with the damages and wounds that are visible- and how long it’s going to take to fix the poor boy. He mentally tuts- that’s not how you train a Scout. Well- you could, but it would only breed resentment and terror, would not ensure loyalty and actual obedience and trust in the Scout.
“Warrior of Iron,” The Grey Knight says, eyeing him briefly, waving a dismissive hand, “begone- you are unneeded here. Leave before I decide to kill you.”
“You have Claude- he’s one of my shoal, one of my sons,” Erriox continues, his fins flaring aggressively, “Give him back.”
“This chimeric whelp has no Iron in him,” The Grey Knight says, with a dismissive wave of his hand. Claude flinches and tracks the movement of the Grey Knights hand, curling more in on himself, and pressing more into the floor of the ocean.
“That doesn’t matter,” Erriox retorts, “I have claimed him as mine, and you shall return him.”
“Or what?” The Grey Knight says with a sneer in his voice, “it’s not like you can defeat one such as I.”
“Not on my own,” Erriox says, grudgingly, “But I and my Champions will find a way to defeat you. How much blood and pain you suffer, depends on how stubborn you are in returning my son Claude to me.”
“I doubt all of you together could beat me,” The Grey Knight says, the dismissive sneer returning to his voice.
“How about we make a wager?” Zariel says slyly. “If we manage to take Claude from you in this battle of arms and might, we get to keep him. Should you manage to keep him from all of us, then… we will have to back off for a time.”
“How long would I have to defend the whelp from your pathetic attempts?” The Grey Knight asks, for some reason, he wants to humor these impudent lesser astartes. It’s been a while since he’s had a challenge. Perhaps they might even be amusing.
“Four hours,” Zariel says, “A battle for four hours, or until one of us manages to steal Claude from you.”
About the length of a sleep cycle- very well, The Gray Knight has been in battles for far longer and with far worse odds and has succeeded. He hums a little, “very well then.”
“Let's start in, 3, 2, 1,” Zariel says, almost singing a song- mostly to annoy the Grey Knight.
They had allowed Erriox to be the spokesperson for the group- as Claude was his son that had been stolen. And Also the Iron Warrior and not-so-slowly been losing his mind the longer it has taken to find and rescue Claude from the clutches of the Gray Knight.
Zariel is glad that the Scout-ling is still alive- if badly damaged. Jophiel had confided that Claude could be stubborn about things, and didn’t like using his Psykery. Which was understandable- it’s a dangerous gift that if it’s not done properly could have catastrophic consequences.
There had been a wealth of information given to him by Jophiel, Cedric, Catius and Ramiel about this Gray Knight- and they’d briefly mentioned a lesser threat, a Petras- or something like that. They will have to deal with that as well- but from the way Roland and Arnault had reacted, they were going to watch what the Older Black Templars do to that one with cackling commentary.
It's really fun to watch Black Templars tear into a bitch, so long as it wasn’t you or yours. Dramatic, loud, and expressive. Which is interesting, for Sons of Dorn can be, and are Stoic and difficult to parse out, unless their tempers are roused- then they have a volcanic fury that can topple star systems in a blink of an eye.
They focused more on the Gray Knight, who has kidnapped poor Claude- but they will circle back to that Petras person and get more information from the boys about that person and how dead, or something else that person needed to be.
Zariel makes sure to focus on the present- a battle is starting and he can’t be distracted by fascinating information that was tantalizingly dangled in front of him. He has a Known Threat in front of him to deal with. Perhaps after this the Primaris Squad will be more trusting, or willing to trust them after rescuing their brother-cousin from the clutches of a personal Nightmare of theirs.
Arnault is the first to charge in, making sure his sword is chained to his hand as he and Roland Charge forth, swift and fierce. They will deal with the reveal that Claude is also a Witch at a later point in time. Being Warp-cursed could happen spontaneously and it’s not the poor boy’s fault that he was in the clutches of an uber-witch and likely tortured, and was told it was ‘training’.
The Grey knight raises his glowing blade and blocks their attacks, and the rest of them swarm the giant silver and gold colored bastard. The battle is fierce, there are almost a dozen of them, against one opponent. It should be more favorable to the many, versus the one, but the boys weren’t kidding when they said that Grey Knights are comparable in might to a Fucking Custodes.
The next two or so hours are a blur- even with their own stamina and strength, fighting against this ghastly opponent who wielded physical and psychic might aplenty was really difficult. Cedric and one of the other Apothecaries has already dragged several of the Iron Warriors out of the fray, frantically tending to their critical wounds. The Grey Knight is going after the Chaos and Renegade Space Marines for the kill or crippling blows first.
While the Gray Knight is thoroughly distracted by an onslaught from three of the Black Templars- Ramiel wielding his- Tempermortis, finally able to get into position to activate it. The flow of time slows around the Grey Knight, allowing them room to breathe and fight more swiftly the glowing bastard in fancy armor.
Zariel sneaks around the edges of the battle, he and the rest of the Alpha legionaries are not close combat, or long range combat specialists. Their field of battle is in subterfuge and weakening the enemies through political chaos and intrigue, not this kind of fighting. He finds where Claude is curled in on himself. Heavily wounded and slowly, slowly trying to move himself away from where the Gray Knight had tossed him. Good lad- trying to help them, by trying to get out of the bastard’s side of the battle field.
“Hey,” Zariel hisses, Claude whirls to face him, eyes wide and slightly off-coloured- but Psykery can change the color of a person’s eyes briefly while in use, so he might be trying to use it, “Stop that- I’m trying to get you out of here. One of the ways we could win is grabbing you and getting you out of here. I can move you faster.”
He reaches out a hand- as much as he wants to lunge forward and drag the Scout with him. As badly hurt as he currently is, trying to grab and drag him without the other agreeing to his aid will be difficult as Claude is really large and his thrashing will gain the notice and wrath of the Gray Knight. Claude looks hesitant, but between him- and looking towards where the Gray Knight and the rest of the rescue force are, something flickers, and resolve set in his face and hesitantly he reaches out and grabs Zariel’s hand.
Zariel feels something warm spread through his hearts and mind at Claude’s touch, he’s pleased that Claude is finally giving him some sort of trust as he swiftly pulls him in close and tugs one of Claude’s arms around his shoulder and he securely hikes the youngster up into a fireman’s carry.
Then he moves as fast as he can, aiming towards the sky and activating his Flight ability as he calls out, “Lana, Zenaid, Lenora!!”
They fly towards him, and light up when they see who he’s got, although quickly are worried by how wounded he looks. The harpies fly down to meet Zariel up in the middle to help grab Claude- and fly him away from the battle.
#warhammer 40k#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#adeptus astartes#warhammer#mermay#mermay 2024#mermay 40k#Living Waters AU#oc: Lana#oc: Zariel#oc: Zarius#oc: Orlys#oc: Zeed#oc: Talos#oc: Erriox#oc: Roland#oc: Arnault#oc: Draco Kai#the Grey Knight#yandere#yandere space marine#yandere gray knight#oc: Lenora#oc: Mara#poor unfortunate souls
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Looks at the darlings...
Looks at Ophelia
Okay maybe
writer culture is creating a sunshine character and then making them go through so much trauma that they're unrecognisable
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The Inquisitor knows about yandere astartes, it won't end well
Inquisitor [REDACTED] report on yandere Astartes (????)
+++ CLASSIFICATION: [LOCK]
+++ CLEARANCE: Obsidian
+++ ENCRYPTION: [LOCK]
+++ DATE: 327.M38
+++ AUTHOR: Inquisitor [REDACTED], Ordo Malleus
+++ SUBJECT: INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED GENEFLAW AFFECTING ADEPTUS ASTARTES SUBJECTS ACROSS ALL CHAPTERS AND FOUNDINGS
+++ EYES ONLY HIGHEST TRANCHESINQUISITORIAL CASE FILE [EXCISED]
Summary of Findings:
Initial reports of this suspected "Geneflaw" first reached my conclave several terran years ago. Astartes assets deployed to war zones began exhibiting highly erratic behaviors and perverse compulsions unbecoming of the Emperor's finest warriors.
Behavioral divergences included:
Unnatural emotional outbursts and loss of emotional mastery
Uncontrollable sexual urges and deviant acts
Possessive, clingy behaviors violating sacred chains of command
Irrational self-destructive and anti-imperial actions driven by object fixations
At first, these cases seemed sporadic and isolated across different Chapters. However, as more deplorable incidents piled up, a clear pattern emerged. Something grievous had gone wrong on a fundamental level.
Excerpted examples of documented cases:
[REDACTED] - BLOOD ANGELS CHAPTER Audio log of Sanguinary Priest [REDACTED]
"Some dark curse has been visited upon our Chapter. A growing number of my battle-brothers have become… afflicted with wanton hungers. No mere physical needs, but all-consuming fixations on certain mortals within our care."
"They will stop at nothing to "claim" these individuals for themselves, body and soul. Any attempt at intervention results in unthinkable acts of disobedience and violence…"
[SAMPLE ENDS]
[REDACTED] - BLACK TEMPLARS CHAPTER Thought downloading from captured Chaplain [REDACTED] upon interrogation
"The time for restraint is at an end. I can bear this throbbing in my soul no longer! She must know the depth of my unfettered desire, the fever pitch of my infatuation. If she does not return these longings, I shall shatter worlds until the God-Emperor take pity!"
*Interrogator's Note: [NEUTRALIZE]
[REDACTED] - EXCORIATOR CHAPTER Recorded pict-captures from helm-cams during incursion on [REDACTED]
-Extreme Battlefield Fraternization between crusaders and human auxiliaries -Acts of exhibitionism and self-mutilation by crusaders -Systematic execution of any battle-brother expressing disgust at above actions -Final pict: [REDACTED]
The list of astartes goes on. Worse, there appear to be no patterns in age, founding, homeworld or even primarch genealogy. These repulsive behaviors are emerging across every Adeptus Astartes chapter at random. The Imperium teeters on the brink of an catastrophic, gene-coded crisis.
Research into potential countermeasures and remedies continues. However, my conclusions thus far firmly advocate an extreme response to contain this threat.
RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:
1) Immediate executions for any Astartes subject exhibiting Geneflawed behaviors. No exceptions.
2) Full and systematic extinction-level viral bombings against all potentially compromised Chapters and fleets.
3) Pre-emptive destruction of all Astartes gene-seed repositories, along with any Adeptus Mechanicus factions and forge worlds implicating in its creation or study.
Only through the complete erasure of this genetic stock can the essence of the Adeptus Astartes be preserved for the inevitable darkness yet to come.
The Emperor's work must be done, no matter how abominable the means required.
I await your tribunal's final judgment on this matter.
Thought for the Day: "There is nothing to be gained through mercy, only fleeting weakness and eventual damnation."
-Inquisitor [REDACTED]
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Once this is all over
@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog
@thevoidscreams @barn-anon @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @squishyowl @ms--lobotomy
@nekotaetae @sleepyfan-blog @remembrancer-of-heresy @felinisnoctis
Ferrus removes the metal from his arms.
This is Yan Ferrus and the reader is the one he put in the forever box.
This is also to make up for the noncon fic I had recently wrote with something nicer
The scarring on his arms and hands were going away as it was a long time coming... the Great Crusade was over and he could finally remove the metal from his hands. She had been in recovery for some time as long cyro takes some time to have the body return to normal. But their reunion was what he had hoped for... to feel her hands slowly glide over his arms. Gently touching where there was still a seam in his arms but just one where the metal once was but that did not matter.
What mattered was the sensation of her fingertips gliding along the pale skin. In time it would match the same tan as the rest of him but he could feel the minute way her fingers pulled on the skin of his arms. His face gave no impression of the arousal he was in as his cock was pressed into his thigh throbbing angrily as she babbled but his superhuman mind was focused on her hands touching his naked arms.
Tiny fingers gently press against the veins in his wrist as she is not as talkative as she once was... he knows he is partially to blame as he was selfish and took her but he also knows she is still recovering... but he wants to feel her body now and watch her writhe with pleasure as his hands move over her flushed form just as he did the last time he held her.
Her hands touch his palms again as she once more chirps about the lines in his hand... but he isn't paying attention as he feels his cock jump each time she moves her fingers over his palm, feeling the way she cups his hand. She looks confused for a moment as his ring finger just touches her lips... he doesn't know why he touched but his face heats up and he pants hard as he watches her wrap her mouth around his finger. The way her cheeks hollow and how her tongue moves against the skin.
He bites the inside of his cheek as he needs just a bit more but he's so close. He can spy her eyes looking down at the bulge against his thigh and when again her tiny hands just put pressure against the bulge he cums. He won't apologize... he breathes heavy as he comes down from the high... he wont apologize for anything as his hands cup her face delicately as he can feel her warmth through his hands no metal between them.
"When you recover..."
"Yes Ferrus I'll gladly join you in bed though... I can still join you now."
Hardly a beat passes between them, "I'll have you moved in right away."
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Delusional
Warnings: yandere, mention of murders, persecution, obsession, possession, description of something unpleasant, somnophilia, non-consensual sex, mention of impregnation, smut.
Heavy hips rose and fell carefully, trying to contain the desire to speed up the pace, but he couldn’t do that otherwise his owner would wake up and then his plan wouldn’t work.
The Astartes bit his lip, clutching the sheet with his hands, suppressing moans and sobs full of lust.
He couldn't risk this chance to finally get what he had wanted for a long time.
The sheets beneath him became damp and covered in a sticky whitish liquid - a symbol of his love and devotion to his human.
He had never wanted it so much with anyone other than his human. He had purposefully rejected other Astartes even when in heat. His netro yearned for his true mate.
Unable to contain the last impulse, a deeper groan escaped from his throat, and a new portion of semen covered the sleeping human's stomach, but even this noise did not wake him. The Space Marine chuckled. This was the result he was looking for, the sleeping pill was working, that was a good sign.
Having cleaned up a bit and hidden the traces of his crime, he curled up around his man, purring like a contented, well-fed cat.
He buried his nose in his human's hair, closing his eyes and already imagining his master's surprise when the Marilenlings were born in a couple of months.
Art belongs to this author: @vthestalker
And thanks again for this to my best assistant in the world)
#yandere x reader#yandere male#warhammer 40k x reader#warhammer x reader#warhammer 40000#x reader#yandere drabble#yandere warhammer#space marine husbandry sentience#space marine husbandry#dark sentience#yandere space marine#space marines
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I still love this.
He's so cute and turtles are so good
I would like to gift Hydra the finest turtle plushes.
𝕿𝖚𝖗𝖙𝖑𝖊 𝕻𝖑𝖚𝖘𝖍𝖎𝖊𝖘
𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Hello there little Anon! I'll' have you know that gifting something without them knowing is hard, especially Hydra.
𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets.
𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒𝖆𝖗𝖞: You gift Hydra turtles plushies in hopes to stop him from stealing anymore.
TW // None.
'Your packages have been delivered.' My phone said, surprising me with the notification sound as I stopped in the middle of the hallway to look at it.
Confused for just a moment, I don't remember getting anything because the Hydra's always knew what was on the list, and they would either remove or add something on there to make me even more confused. So, I stood there, thinking a little bit until I remembered what I bought without the Hydra's noticing. A smile forming on my face.
Oh, Hydras' going to love this.
Hurriedly making my way to the front door and opening it. I saw the big package waiting on the steps with two other ones just behind it.
A questioning coo came from behind me, then a nuzzle to the top of my head. Reaching my hand behind me, I slid my hand against his armor, and grabbed hold of his gauntlet and tugged him outside with me. A purr coming out of him as I did.
"These boxes here." I stated, letting go of Hydra and gesturing to the boxes. "Are for you."
The Hydra chittered, his helmet tilting, looking back and forth between the boxes before making a move to open the closest one to him. His gauntlet ripping open the box with ease.
His helmet shot up at me in surprise. A trill-like sound coming from him as he took ahold of the item inside and lifted it up for me to see. The pristine green and brown colors of a plushie turtle greeting my eyes as well as the plushies beady eyes.
"It's so you stop stealing the real turtles." I pointed out, watching as he grabbed another, and another from the box before moving to the next one, ripping them from the box too. Stuffing his arms with them.
He tried to pick up the most he can in him arms, but untimely failed. Some falling off the mountain he has created in his arms. A whine coming from him as he tried to reach for one that dropped from him.
Walking over, I picked up the plushie and stashed it back in his arms, a loving rumble, then whine coming from him as more fell off because of his rumble.
"You know your spoiled, right?" I asked, picking up another turtle plushie and wiggling it at him. Receiving another purr before I, myself, was engulfed in the mountain he has created. His arms wrapping around my body, picking me up while he settled himself down on the ground. His helmet nuzzling into my neck as we sat in a pile of turtle plushies.
"I do hope you know that hurts a little." I huffed, not wanting to outright refuse his gratitude.
He rumbled before he took off his helmet. His head going right back to my neck, giving it a little nip. "Gah! That hurts too, you know!"
He chuffed, his arms pulling me closer as he thought of more ways to steal more turtles. Thats what his little serpent saying, right? That she wants more turtles?
Yeah, you did find more real turtles the next day. The plushies don't stop him.
#warhammer 40k#space marine#space marine husbandry sentience#yandere space marine#x reader#yandere#fanfic#fanfiction#not my oc#oc: hydra#alpha legion#not my writing
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Sweet pleasures (Part 2)
Summary: You accidentally capture the attention of Lucius the Eternal while your world dies under the oppression of heretics
Lucius The Eternal/fem!Reader
Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, noncon
Word count: 1941
Author's note: I finally pulled myself together and wrote a sequel. Just before publishing, I reread Part 1 and must admit that I write better with each post. It makes me happy. Although this is my least favorite work. I will write more about Lucius (I adore him). But there will be no part 3 to this story.
Song: The Sisters of Mercy - More
In his long life, he had seen many creatures of the warp. Disgusting and seductive, communicating pleasure and agony. There were mutants, too, but almost all could be placed according to a certain characteristic. One of the brothers once told him that he was raising such cattle for his table. Fabius even became a gene father for his “children”.
Yes, Lucius had seen a lot. But you were a breath of fresh air. He had never encountered mutants capable of charming mere mortals before. As Cesare noted, your pheromones work especially well when you feel fear. A kind of protection from predators.
Of course, the space marine was thinking about turning you into a substance. Turning you into a potent drug in your dying peak of agony and pleasure was a tempting idea. But it was pointless. You were already in your original form.
It was a stroke of luck that Cohors Nasicae and the other gangs had headed to your wretched planet. Lucius was frankly bored with the entertainment that came with the battles. But even the fights themselves were predictable and terribly empty.
However, your scent, intoxicating and seductive, filled the man from the fear he caused. Reminded him of a desire he had not often resorted to despite the mercy of Slaanesh... so why not indulge himself? He is the best swordsman in the entire Galaxy. Of course, such a valuable exhibit as you should go to him. Besides, he deserved it. In a way, Lucius could even consider himself your savior.
You were frankly lucky, but eventually the Inquisition had to get on your trail. And given the reaction you caused in those around you, they would clearly regard you as seduced by a daemonette. Even if it was not true. At least until now.
The Space Marine had many trophies. Be it painted pictures or the entrails of his enemies. Lucius collected everything that seemed interesting to him, turning the chambers into a dump. This wretched planet will quickly fade from the man's memory, you are unlikely to pass for a trophy. On the other hand, he never had a pet. Lucius is sure that you do not even need to be trained. You will be an obedient girl.
***
You dreamed of finding yourself in the saving darkness again, but alas, it was only a delay of the inevitable. To die under the rubble or from the sword of blessing. Many were unlucky and their bodies and souls were mocked for a long time. And yet, all the unfortunate eventually gave up the ghost. All who participated in the ritual who served the new masters for a short time. All.
Except you. And that was the most terrible thing. When half-dead slaves, stinking of fear and pain, brought you to reality, you were ready to kill them. And later you were ready to beg them to save you from your gloomy future. But all you did was quietly cry.
You would have laughed at the name of the ship if you had not been so morally exhausted. Diadem. Such an elegant name, more suitable for the crew of a spoiled and naive aristocrat. Once you pretended to be exactly like that to get to the ball. Although now you wonder if they really believed you. Or were they so enchanted by you that they decided to turn a blind eye.
It was probably the latter. You were beginning to doubt your talents. You had nothing to offer the Imperium but your charm. But you never will. The slaves made it clear to you that you had only one task now. To entertain Lucius the Eternal. The flawless and shining blade of the Emperor's Children. The greatest champion of Slaanesh.
It is such an honor, they said. Despite all the desire to fall into hysterics and spit on the slaves, you felt pity. These creatures are but a shell of what were once a humans. Now they are only convenient tools and pleasant flesh to cut and eat. Filled with nothing but feelings and desires, rejected by the God-Emperor.
And you will soon be one of them. You will drag out your miserable existence far from the light. You will forget your home and will begin to perceive this ship as an extension of yourself. Stained with blood and secretions, mangled and executed in the most wretched form. The Diadem was only a parody of beauty.
And although the slaves, furiously washing you, said that a different fate awaited you, you could not believe in the best. Maybe you will not blend into the crowd. Maybe you will have a better position. But for traitors, you are nothing more than a tasty piece of meat. Which should serve for a very long time.
Perhaps an eternity, given the nickname of your master.
Your small washed body in silks looks alien in this place. You were like a feather or a breath of wind. Inconspicuous. Insignificant. While bright colors and many trophies screamed about luxury and depravity. They were much more suitable for their disgusting master, who deigned to return to his own chambers.
At the sight of you, waiting for him, a carnivorous smile paints the man's face. So wide that some of the small scars open up, staining the pale skin red with blood. You feel sick just from the sight of it, but the worst thing is when the monster starts talking.
“You stink, you know that?” - the man runs his tongue over his lips, slowly removing the armor. The parts filled with human faces slide off his body on their own. - “Sickeningly sweet and sour. An incredible range of emotions. You would make an excellent perfume, sugar.”
You can no longer restrain yourself and begin to cry loudly. Only a scream leaves your lips. No matter how much you want to, you cannot speak, you cannot force yourself to beg. Even knowing your inevitable fate, you desperately cling to a non-existent hope.
“Well, well, my dear. I haven’t even had time to do anything, and you’re already spoiling me.” - the man moans, clutching his sides, sucking in air like a starving man. And yet his face twitches, either from discontent or from thoughtfulness. - “But fear alone is not enough.”
A completely naked, grotesquely pale and fleshy man approaches the wall before pulling out a sleek, thin sword. Lucius runs it over his tongue, cutting through the soft flesh. You cringe at the sight, glad that your stomach and bladder have emptied while you were being prepared. At least that way you won't embarrass yourself.
You don't even have time to breathe before the metal lightly touches your hand. Looking down, you see a thin, surgically precise cut. As the blood begins to show, you realize reality. And with it, pain.
Another swing and another scratch appears on your palm. A scream echoes through the room. It takes you a moment to realize that it's coming from your throat. A groan echoes above your ear. The man almost purrs, sinking down onto the bed next to you. His sword smoothly traces your side before cutting through the flesh. The process is much slower this time. And more painful. You burst into tears even more.
“Believe me, I don’t want to hurt you at all. I’ll force myself to.” - Lucius kisses your cheek softly before nuzzling your neck. - “I would have been less merciful with other slaves. Still, I had to know what you smell like when you’re in pain.”
A rough tongue gently traces a line from your shoulder to your cheek, leaving a bloody trail. Before invading your mouth. The Space Marine throws away his sword and you could breathe a sigh of relief if you had anything to breathe with.
Now with both free hands, the man touches you, greedily digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving bruises. For a second, you think that a little more and you will suffocate. But Lucius breaks away from your lips with a loud pop and you just can’t help but start gulping for air as if it will be taken away from you again.
“And this,” the man leans towards you, his velvety voice gently touching your ears. - “Absolutely amazing.”
You sob, tired of screaming and crying, while someone else’s hands begin to tear your clothes. “One day you will learn to enjoy pain, sugar. In the meantime, let me get it for you in a different way.”
“N-no.”
“Yes. You will like it, just relax.” - the man presses his right hand to your legs. Or what is left of it. The red tentacles are already quite wet on their own, and therefore easily pass inside you. You squeak, trying to move away, but someone else’s hand does not allow you to do this, pressing the narcotic drink to your mouth, which you are forced to swallow. - “I will take care of it.”
The madness of the flesh captured you. And if at first you resisted, then soon you gave in to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. And yet, the worm of shame crept up in your stomach, not allowing you to let go of the pieces of your mind so easily. Especially when, under the veil of fog, you heard about how perfect you were. But you, broken and shattered, could not agree with it.
***
Eternity is a flexible concept. In the end, everything can become boring at any moment. And unprecedented suffering, which used to cause pain, could instantly turn into pleasure. Or at least you could get used to it.
This was your option. Your only release. The only salvation. Let the master enjoy your body, get drunk on drugs to make it easier. Get used to these chambers. Get used to the fact that the Diadem is your new home. Forever.
You get tired of looking in one corner and turn over on the bed, finding a familiar face. You can get used to all the horrors and inhumanity, but perhaps you will never be able to get used to the sleeping Lucius. At this moment, his face calms down and it is as if he turns into another person. Into the previous version of himself, forever lost and rejected by him.
He has always been a braggart. And he has always improved himself in the art of war. This was his identity, and it was this that began his corruption. But he once believed in the Imperium. Once he fought for humanity, not for the Dark Gods. You did not know that Lucius and you will never know.
And you did not want to.
Your broken part defeats you and you cling to his chest. In all the time you were on Diadem, he gave you so much. You could taste every part of the Imperium. From clothes and food to base entertainment.
You did not need to lie and get all this from different people. Only Lucius could give you everything. He asked for little. Yes, everything worked out well. You wanted to see the Imperium. And you saw it. And even more. You could have any pleasure you wanted. Except maybe freedom.
You gently wrap yourself around the man, putting into this gesture all the love that remained in your heart. Not noticing how the devil's eyes watch your slow decay. How in the depths of the doomed soul, sadness and shame, seemingly lost long ago, appear.
But being a slave to pleasure, he also cannot let these feelings go free. You two, like all slaves of Chaos, can only continue your torment, calling it happiness and blessing.
#warhammer 40k x reader#yandere space marine#space marine x reader#lucius the eternal x reader#emperor's children x reader#tw: yandere#tw: obsession#tw: kidnapping#tw: noncon
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This came from a joke between me and my friend. And it is heretic :v
#Yandere chapter space marines? Yeah….
#Blood Angels, Flesh Tearers and Lamenters.
#Don't ask me, I don't know what I'm doing.
Blood Angels
You awoke with a start, heart pounding. Another nightmare, yet this one lingered behind closed lids, elusive yet unsettling. Rubbing sleep from eyes, moonlight filtering through stained glass recalled where you lay, guest of the Blood Angels once more.
Rising, soft slippers padded silent halls as restless feet sought solace. Marble gleamed ethereal, statuesque giants flanking your passage like solemn sentinels. A turn, and shadows shifted, was that movement ahead?
"You should not wander so late, mortal." Brother Varrael's rich timbre sent shivers down spine, lips curving a lover's smile yet eyes hooded, intent. "These halls hold memories better left undisturbed."
His massive hand enclosed your smaller one with surprising gentleness, leading unresisting to familiar chambers. "Rest, and I will stand guard over you." Lingering kiss upon brow held an edge of desperation you dared not know.
Days passed in diligent company, recording heroic epics for future generations. Yet unease grew, visions' shadows slipping between waking and dreams. Hands grasped where none should be, voices crooned foreign desires in loved tones warped.
Heart seizing, you fled, only to collide with Varrael's towering form emerging from shadows. His strong arms imprisoned your struggling form against massive chest as velvet words whispered of dark devotion no lips should know. Livid scars criss-crossing pale flesh spoke of daemons conquering will through flesh alone.
Days blurred into restless nightmares, reality twisting beyond recognition. Every interaction held veiled intimations too intimate to comprehend, too blasphemous to accept. Yet denying the truth invited madness.
His helm obscured his features, but you'd know Varrael's scent anywhere. Hot breath whispered your name against your ear as his other hand pinned your waist possessively. You shivered, seeing not fury but desperation in his stance.
"Varrael, please..." Your plea was lost in a needy kiss, tastes of blood and longing upon his tortured lips.
His mind swam in a crimson sea, torn between devotion and rage's call. Your light soothed the beast within, yet each parting fed its hunger for your touch alone. When next you stood together on the field of battle, survival instinct blurred with a need to shield, claim, destroy.
Days passed in blissful torment, stolen moments reaffirmed devotion, yet bloodlust simmered nearer the surface for him. Try as he might, control was fleeting against the curse's tide. And when passion overcame his iron will whilst lost in your embrace, fangs slipping to graze your throat in ecstasy.
Flesh Tearers
You knew accepting this assignment with the Flesh Tearers meant danger, yet how could you refuse such a historic opportunity? Now you regretted agreeing as the Astartes' unhinged nature was laid bare.
The Astartes spared you no glance. Except one, Tahareil especially unsettled you, his ice blue eyes tracking your every move with disturbing intensity. When allies fell in battle, his enraged howls shook the very foundation, an unearthly sound that raised primal fears.
In coming weeks, your recordings captured noble Astartes in acts of valor against xenos and heretic alike. All performed duties with grim resolve. And Tahareil, who revelled in slaughter's ecstasy with abandon that chilled your soul. His thirst for blood appeared unquenchable, beyond duty's call.
"Be at ease, mortal." he rumbled softly. "No enemies shall reach you whilst I stand vigil."
His protective claim should have reassured, but an undercurrent chilled your blood. When had a simple recording become so fraught with subtext unspoken?
When battle was done, you worked alone editing recordings in sequestered chamber provided. Yet lingering unease persisted you were not alone. Sometimes catching fleeting glimpse of shadow beyond the chamber's edge, scent of musk and iron lingering where none walked. Paranoia's creeping fingers closed about your mind, were you truly an observer here, or had another thing found you?
One night exhaustion took hold, dropping guard enough to drift to fitful dreams.There terror's form coalesced, hulking figure looming over helpless prey pinned trembling in grasping claws. Feral grin split nightmare's maw as it dipped to sample sweetness on quivering flesh, revelling in lifeblood's rich perfume.
A gasp tore your throat awake, soaked in cold sweat upon rumpled pallet. But no, the nightmare lingered still, a shadow stirred beyond veil, eyes glinting some primal madness barely leashed.
"Pretty little thing, almost forgot your scent..." Tahareil's rasp caressed your fears incarnate, large hand capturing trembling wrist to draw you against him. "Tell me mortal, did you use your witchery on me?"
He inhaled your racing pulse, claws tracing your quaking form with possessive. Lips parted to protest yet words died, transfixed by the scare blazing beneath visored dark.
"Let me taste it." his growl reverberated, "See what witchery makes me like this."
His grip was iron, struggling futilely. Gauntleted claws rent flesh baring pulsing artery, raging beat filling bestial senses. Jagged fangs plunged deep, agonizing ecstasy flooding nerves as blood flooded.
Lamenters
You awake with a start, the shadows of another nightmare slowly slipping away. As consciousness returns, you become aware of a light pressure around your wrists and ankles. Panic rises in your throat as your eyes adjust to the dim light of phosphor stones.
That's when you see him, sitting vigil at your bedside. Chapter master Malakim Phoros of the Lamenters looks exhausted, the dark circles under his eyes a sharp contrast to his pallid skin. But his gaze, as it falls upon you, holds only concern.
"Forgive me," he rasps, voice rough from disuse. "The others thought it best until you'd rested. They mean no harm, only to keep you safe."
You struggle to calm your racing heart. Abductions were not unknown, with the Lamenters' curse of ill fortune. But Malakim had always watched over you with a devoted, tender care unlike the others.
His guilt-wracked smile is gentle as he administers sips of water through a straw. "The night terrors will find you. We could not risk you wandering in such a state.”
You nod weakly, the adrenaline fading. His haunted eyes hold only relief at your return to lucidity. His love for you is palpable, yet shaded by a darkness borne of endless suffering and self-loathing.
In time your bonds are removed, though Malakim remains at your side. His brothers drift past your cell-like chamber, gaunt faces lighting momentarily at glimpses within. They meant only protection, you know, but their shattered minds leave little room for trust beyond their brethren.
And you, their one ray of light in an ocean of gloom. Their luck, as Malakim whispers reverently whilst stroking your hair, sent to lift their cursed spirits from the depths of madness and despair. A blessing too precious to abandon to fate's cruelty, whatever the cost.
#shiyorin's writer#wh40crack#tw: yandere#cw: yandere#yandere au#warhammer 40k x reader#reader insert#space marine x reader#Heretic but I think it fun :v
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Oh we waltzed right into that trap but I mean he couldn't let us just go and be taken by someone else... I don't think his little blueberry heart could take that... take that someone else could love us like he could.
God I can't wait till we're just tied to the bed and really just used to be vented at.
part 1 of 2
Author's note: Hi! So multiple of you, COUGH @bispecsual COUGH incited the yandere Guilliman brain fungus, so here. This first part is mostly build up, the second half will have all the romance I just didn't want to make this some massive blob of a post with tons of timeskips. Enjoy.
Summary: Guilliman falls for the one person who's treated him like a man, and wants nothing more than for you to never leave him.
Relationships: Guilliman/Fem!Reader
Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive relationship and Guilliman using his power to manipulate and trap you, I don't have to tag age difference do I?
Word Count: 1837
Guilliman looks over the morning skyline of Macragge and takes a deep breath, before sighing.
He's pleased that it still looks familiar, after all of these years. Even if so much of the galaxy he once knew is almost unrecognizable. However he can still feel that even Macragge has also been brushed by the necrotic touch of this modern Imperium. It's inescapable now.
At least the view is still so peaceful. He enjoys this moment of quiet, before he becomes bombarded with every aspect of his Legion, and of the broader Imperium. He's surprised they've yet to begun doing so already.
It's just endless, all of it.
He can hear the hum of machinery and the droning noise of people speaking even at this early hour, and he partakes in it a moment more before he hears tiny footsteps behind him. Odd, no one comes to this area that he knew of, it's why he chose this spot.
When he turns to investigate, you spot him at the exact time he does you.
He doesn't recognize you; You're wearing ornate clothing befitting of someone of a higher stature, but your face is completely foreign to him. You completely freeze in place, and Guilliman supposes it's understandable. Your neck doesn't have to arch as severely to look him in the eyes from such a distance, though you still have to slightly.
Guilliman glances over you once more and notices you holding a myriad of parchment and other things in your arms. Study material.
He's stolen your spot, it seems.
"I should've supposed this place was already taken," He glances away for a moment and back towards the horizon. "It gives a good view." You look up at him, and he assumes you're surprised by his speaking to you. Many are, it makes even the most basic of communication frustrating now.
"...Yes, it does." You watch as he shifts slightly to the side, allowing you to come closer- if you choose.
As with most other humans in this modern Imperium he expects you to vehemently apologize for some imaginary offense against a god, to prostrate and kiss the floor before leaving him alone with his thoughts; Which leaves him surprised when you do not.
You hesitantly step closer, enough so that you can touch the railing that he also has an armored hand rested on. The Armour of Fate's gauntlets are ungainly and monstrous in comparison to your own hands, even as they rest so far away. Much of him is that way, towering over someone of the same species as him as he looks downward.
"I imagine it must be nice to see it again, after so long away."
He doesn't answer right away, and instead thinks for a moment.
He does miss many things, most of which are long gone- His mother, his real father, his brothers- but at least he can still enjoy the sunrise of his home after all of this time.
You however seem to take his silence as some sort of offense, and quickly begin to revert into speak that Guilliman has become more used to hearing from others in this recent time.
"I am so sorry Lord Guilliman, I-" He cuts you off before you have a chance to scurry away into a nameless mass of faces who have never given him this time of day.
"By all means, continue. I," Guilliman pauses for a moment. "I appreciate the casual conversation. It has been many years, and I would like to continue, if you don't mind."
You freeze for a moment, before Guilliman can see you noticeably relax. The fear of repercussion is gone from your mind, for the time being.
"Then, Lord Guilliman," You purse your lips for a moment, wetting them. You look out towards the sky, and he almost follows your gaze before he looks towards you upon hearing your voice.
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
Guilliman shifts in his armor, and for a moment laments that he still feels tired from his last attempt to take it off, before becoming lost in thought.
He never ask where you were from, that day. Or any of the meetings after. He had been so distracted by just enjoying his moment of humanity, that he'd forgone asking. To think he would be so distracted by such a menial thing, so drawn into someone who gives him something seemingly so simple.
As it has become a routine, and you've gone from nearing shivering from nervousness to smiling at him and laughing. He says plenty that is amusing to you, it seems. There isn't many moments now where you chest isn't shaking with silent laughter. He comes to you feeling at the end of his rope, and then leaves the place you both have claimed as your little secret smiling.
He oh so enjoys each little moment. He feels human. You just look at him, you don't look at his creation and his so called divinity.
He feels like Roboute. Not Lord Regent.
It's when he's leaning over this holotable, glancing around at thousands of little dots of interest, that he speaks the question to the man closest to him. Where you're from, your history. He wants to know anything there is to know.
When Guilliman speaks your name and description for clarity, of which he recollects perfectly, the Imperium priest is confused for a moment. He doesn't dare question why Guilliman is so interested in someone so seemingly random, and eventually collects himself enough to speak.
"Well, Lord Regent..."
Your father is in Macragge's high court, he says. He says his family name, but he can't put a face to it. They've either never met, or he put too little impression on him to bother remembering. Either way, he hums.
"Bring her here. I have something I wish to ask of her."
He freezes once more, for a moment. Though Guilliman takes rare enjoyment in his perceived godhood that the priest doesn't dare question such an odd request, and quickly scurries away to go fetch you.
In the moment of solitude, Guilliman continues looking at the holotable despite not absorbing any of it's information.
He is not going to let this opportunity slip him by.
Out of his short while in this new Imperium, he has found no one able to give him even a fraction of the feeling you've shown him. Even in this short time he knows that you are the one he wants beside him as we wades through all of this horror and mess, and he'll give you whatever you desire- or do whatever it takes- to keep you there.
He refuses to let this slip him by. He refuses to let you slip him by. If the universe won't give him his happiness, then he will take it himself. He deserves to be selfish just this one singular time.
He can hear the multiple footsteps before the door opens, and he's prepared himself to see your face again.
He needs to stay the way you know him. Any slip could mean you back away from him, and he doesn't know if his heart could take it after you've given him so much hope.
You stand between multiple guardsmen, your hands knit tightly together at your front. You look more on edge than when you'd first met, and he supposes he shouldn't be surprised. They probably just demanded you come with them to meet the Lord Regent and told you little else.
You could be going to your execution, for all you know. These guardsmen and his men in particular, whom you will be dealing much with shortly, lack the gentle finesse needed to treat someone like you properly.
He will treat you properly. He will make anyone you know pale in comparison, make the suitors you surely have fall to the wayside, once he bestows upon you a position and the respect you deserve.
He's in need of a diplomat. Or anyone that can adequately serve the role. He has little care of if you come from a family of such, you have the eloquent speech and attitude he needs for such a role. Your interest in languages and kind smile will help him momentously in repairing Ultramar in it's currently fractured state.
At least, that's what he tells himself. He knows that if he doesn't get you now, you might end up elsewhere, tasked under someone else and lost in the sea of the Imperium.
And he refuses to let you go.
"What do you need of me, Lord Guilliman?" He looks to you, and it's hard for him to keep his stoic expression.
"I suppose since we are familiar with one another, I can forgo the formal speech." He looks to the men that stand beside you, and the astartes that stand guard in the room as well.
"You all may leave. I wish to speak in private." The guardsmen leave without issue, but his men look at him oddly for a moment, before nodding their heads following suit. Once the door behind them closes, you step closer without the suffocation from his men all staring at you.
"I hope you do not mind the change in scenery; I know this is quite different than where we usually meet." His waroom is legions different than the gentle balcony where you both usually meet, though he hopes sending his men away calmed your suspicions a bit.
"But now that we are alone, I wish to speak with you." Guilliman glances away for a moment as he formats his words, trying to find the best way to voice his thoughts without startling you away. He has you so close, you can't pull back now. He won't allow it.
"I am in need of a diplomat. One that will serve at my side. In our conversations you have shown to be nothing short of the intelligent and kind woman I would need for such a role."
Your eyes are wide, and he sees the knot in your throat bob as you swallow. "Will you accept the offer?"
He knows you won't refuse it. He phrased it as a question, but no one would ever deny such a offer from him. He knows from your private conversations, you telling him of your passions and dreams, that you've longed for such a role. He'll give you exactly what you desire, and it brings you all the closer to him.
"I, I would be honored, Lord Guilliman." The moment those words leave your lips, Guilliman resists the urge to sigh in relief. Even though he had not a doubt in his mind you would say yes, it still makes his heart race.
He knew you were the perfect person for this, the perfect one for him- he would've hated having to use force in order to show you such, he doesn't want you to fear him the way others do.
"That is good." Guilliman smiles softly, and gestures for you to come closer with his left gauntlet.
"Then we have much to go over, if you would stay with me for awhile."
#roboute guilliman x reader#warhammer 40k x reader#primarch x reader#yandere space marine#yandere#yandere ultramarine#ultramarines#yandere primarch#primarch#robute guilliman#I'm so glad I could help too.
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I think Leman, Horus, Lorgar and Emps would be terrifying yanderes.
They all are terrifying Yanderes and like the others I'll point out why!
Yandere Leman! He's cunning! He plays the roll of the idiot brutish barbarian king who rather you all think he is something that he isn't. So either he can start the relationship off between him and his darling with deception just playing the fool while he is pulling strings in the background (I mean he's also a strong psyker in his own right as well). He's probably also less squimish in using force with his darling. He snarl and snap his jaws at her to get her to obey... to herd her where he wants her to go. I also see him being very reward based... he's going to train his darling on how to behave.
Yandere Horus! Oh he's the ultimate honeytrap! He'll lure you in with sweet charming words and his charisma... the darling might not notice anything is wrong as he bottles up his obsessive nature... he stores it all inside how paranoid he feels when other men look at you with lustful jealous gazes... how easily he could butcher an entire room of mortals for you! And once he starts falling to Chaos... he starts to say the silent part out loud.
Yandere Lorgar! @moodymisty has literally the best Lorgar piece and I can't see this man just not absolutely worshiping his darling. Loving every crevice of her and part of her just was basically made for him to love. Oh this man will croon and go on about how you two are clearly soulmates and it's meant to be... even if he's telling you this while tears are running down your face after he's taken you after slaughtering your family. You just were trying to broker peace but you aren't in charge of anything... the imperium's mercy can extend to your planet through you and Lorgar's favor through you as well. He'll happily kiss those tears away!
You know something like that for Lorgar.
Yandere Emperor! I have said my piece several times on why this man terrifies me. He is the ultimate yandere. You either change for him or he will change you. You might not even realize what is happening because of just his psychic might just changing the way you think and act perhaps becoming something completely unrecognizable to who you were? But as with how I've been writing the 40k yandere's we're saying they're in love with who their darling is already. Few delusions of how you'll act because they're all super smart and probably have been stalking you so they already know how you'll be. For the emps... he just has to look at you... tug a thread of you floating around in the inmaterium to know everything about you and I'm certain if a man like him finds someone that he likes he follows the thread.
He literally could be living a double life all the while being a warlord... his darling completely unaware that the poet (or really anything) she is seeing is in fact just some psychic manifestation of him or something (shit also apply this to 40k emps with the star children or his souls/other obscure lore) but just the fact he can be whatever he wants... he's the perfect bait to lure his darling in. He's someone who knows how to play a role to get what he wants and perhaps that role lasts until he ensnares them or until they die... its up to him how long he wants to pay a game.
I have a lot of thoughts about the emps...
Weirdos who like to hear my thoughts: @bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog @thevoidscreams @barn-anon & @sculptorofcrimson because I said yandere emps
#warhammer 40k#yandere#male yandere#yandere male#yandere space marine#yandere primarch#yandere emperor#yandere leman#yandere horus#yandere lorgar
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Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive, Possessive, Possessive behaviour, Mention of blood, Mention of infanticide
The small bundle in his arms barely moved as he took it into his large, armored hands.
The fabric had slipped slightly, revealing the sleeping face of a newborn who had recently been screaming loudly, causing his human to fuss around his cradle.
This crying was driving him crazy, he wanted to shut up this little loud throat, it would not be difficult, but it would make his human cry and get upset.
Stupid, stupid his human, why does he worry so much about something so useless and pathetic like this baby when he has him? Isn't he better than this ugly, demanding little larva? He's better than this in every way.
Oh! His poor, narrow-minded human simply hasn't realized it yet, but there's nothing to worry about, he'll take care of everything and then his human will see.
A wet, soft crunch filled the nursery. The previously soft-colored blanket in which this was wrapped had turned crimson.
The previously moving lump in the blanket fell silent...forever.
As if nothing had happened, he wrapped what was left of the newborn back in his blanket, rocking the bundle soothingly so as not to attract the attention of his human. He slipped out of the nursery and then out of the apartment with silent steps.
He had long ago noticed a quiet place in the park where his human used to often walk...so it was time to add some fertilizer to the soil.
#space marine husbandry#yandere headcanon#yandere x reader#space marine husbandry sentience#dark sentience#yandere oc#yandere male#mention of infanticide#space marine x reader#space marine oc#yandere space marine#space marines
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The Eternal Night (Part 5/Finale)
Summary: After the destruction of Nostramo, Sevatar gets emotional and wants to see you.
Jago Sevatarion/fem!Reader
Warnings: yandere, power imbalance, violence, predator/prey, stockholm syndrome, noncon
Word count: 2581
Song: She Wants Revenge - Sister
Still he pulled back the sheets And said, "You better lie down, 'cause the angels are watching," She closed her eyes and said, "Quit the talking You can hurt me, do whatever you like,"
Sevatar had long since left the captain's bridge. The legionnaires lowered their heads, trying not to look at the man. The serfs, almost crying and trembling with fear, fled to their holes. Even the most fearless brothers tried not to get in his way, feeling the wrongness and creepiness. It was as if his dark soul had found a way to spill out. The air shook with his Gift, which he could not contain due to strong feelings.
There was little that surprised or awed the First Captain. His mind worked differently. The man still remembered the Zoa Tower, which Shang called beautiful. Sevatar could not understand how one could define something or someone as beautiful. However, now he could fully realize this when he saw the destruction of the world.
Nostramo, a world without sun and law, was destroyed no more than an hour ago. But Sevatar still saw the destruction of the universe before him. What was created by the Galaxy over millions of years disintegrated in a matter of minutes. How the threads of life were cut, tectonic plates shifted, and magma flooded the planet like blood.
It was a wonderful sight.
A sight that haunted him even after the world was left in ash, the ships set off far from their home system. Even when the first captain gave the order to kill every dissenter at Nightfall. Be it mortal or space marine. The primarch's order was law and they had to obey.
His family had long since died, and distant relatives served the Night Lords right here. Besides, he never liked his hometown. Tall mines in which one had to work until exhaustion. The smell of adamantium and black clouds full of toxic rain. The only thing he will miss is the crows.
Sometimes the man regretted that he had not taken them with him on the ship the last time they were on Nostramo. But years of self-control and meditation helped him cope with the consequences of the Gift. And with you, he completely forgot about his curse for a while.
You. Your image immediately appeared in his head when the red glow of the burning world disappeared from his black eyes. Sevatar immediately realized that he wanted to share this moment with you. He wanted you to feel the same way he did. A man wouldn't risk taking you to the porthole. He only liked to see you in his chambers. But maybe you can see it in his eyes?
Sevatar slightly opens the door to his quaters and remains on the threshold, not daring to enter. You sat at the very end of the room, legs crossed and ears covered. Rocked like a child, hoping to calm down. You felt Nightfall being torn apart by the countless number of weapons that were used. Heard the despair of the planet being destroyed.
If you were a psyker, did you hear the screams and tears of the dying?
You feel how the air in the room is changing, how your hair is electrified from a strange sensation. As long as you dare to look at the returning man. Your eyes, filled with fear, light up with a spark of hope.
“Is it over?” - much to the space marine's disappointment, yes. Apparently his face spoke for him because your eyebrows immediately furrowed. - “Sevatar, are you fine?”
The last time anyone showed concern about his condition was his mother. Huh, Sevatar didn’t think about her for many years. It's not that he misses her. But you appeared and images of his mother hugging him in the hope of easing the pain began to emerge in his mind. You did it better.
“Yes, little mouse, I’m fine.” - the man succeeds before going inside, locking the door. - “Now finally help me take off this armor.”
You quickly jump up and rush to the space marine, attentivelly and extremely carefully helping the man remove the second skin. You are too weak for such weight, but your delicate fingers easily cling to the necessary parts, giving the man the opportunity to remove the armor. You both are silent, each thinking about your own.
“That chronicler that we hung at the entrance. What did she do? - the words cut through the silence like water through a stone. Sevatar was about to leave, having discussed all important matters with the primarch, but a question arose by itself. He didn't even understand why he asked it. But worst of all was Konrad Curze's smile.
“Oh, she took part of the report on Piamen joining the Imperium. To make a list of questions and write a book. But without asking my permission and taking away important documents, theft was committed. The criminal deserved her punishment.”
Sevatar raises an eyebrow at the primarch's excuses. Not that he regretted the death of the annoying remembrancer. He didn’t care, besides, an order is an order, it must be carried out. It was just that he was partly amused by Curze's attempts to justify his thirst for violence as a noble act. The Night Lords were justice, but there was no point in denying their dark desires.
“Be that as it may, everything turned out only in your favor.” - pointed teeth stretch to their full length, like a crescent moon. - “No more keeping track of a useless crew member. And you began to sleep more often, didn’t you?”
“Are you scared?” - you nod confusedly and the man chuckles. He shouldn't have asked such an obvious question. Even though you were safe and began to perceive Nightfall more as a home, you were still an ordinary serf girl. For whom Cheraut Incident is akin to the end of the world.
The fact that Konrad Curze almost killed his brother, after which he hastened to hide in his native system, raised trepidation among mortals. The Night Lords were only too happy to mock their cousins, but even they were surprised at such a sharp attack from the primarch.
All the time on the way to Nostramo, the ships languished from human fear and the gloomy anticipation of the space marines. Opportunities to bring justice to their home world. Final and irrevocable judjment at the cost of billions of lives.
“The whole planet was thundering. And people screamed so much. I think I can still hear them crying. Or maybe my imagination is running wild, I-I don't know. I never would have thought that one of the worlds of the Imperium would fall in this way.” - you pull your head into your shoulders, putting the last detail back in place, realizing what you just said. - “Beg your pardon, my lord.”
“Hmm, it’s even a pity that you were hiding here. Seeing the whole world die is an unforgettable feeling. Especially if you came from it. Imagine if Terra was also destroyed.” - Sevatar grins, enjoying your surprised look.
“B-but that won’t happen, the Emperor won’t allow it.” - you were so frightened by the very thought of destroying the heart of the Imperium that you began to contradict your master. But Sevatar was in a good mood and he even liked your hope, flimsy as dirt.
The first captain doesn't answer you. Doesn't know what to say to this. If the Emperor so wishes, Terra can be destroyed in a matter of minutes. Or, on the contrary, the Legions would line up to protect the planet. But first and foremost, Sevatar served Konrad Curze. He was ready to carry out his orders first and foremost. Like now they have already destroyed the world. Their former home.
The man sits down on the bed, not taking his eyes off you. You fiddle with your hands, not daring to approach Sevatar until he gives you an order. Obedient girl. As you promised, you served him well and he appreciated it. Maybe he should have sent you to bed or touched your tattoo again as usual.
But today Sevatar was overwhelmed with feelings and he realized that this was not enough. He needed more. He didn't know what exactly he wanted from you. However, the desire to devour you took hold with incredible force as soon as he remembered the death throes of Nostramo.
The man pats the bed next to him. Sevatar chuckles as your eyes widen. Just like a crow. It's not that you were afraid, but the first captain's behavior was unusual. Even if he cares about you, the unknown is always scary. Especially on the Night Lords' ship.
You purse your lips and hesitantly approach the bed before lowering yourself onto it. The air filled with heat. The man continues to study you, not knowing what to do with you next. Until an idea comes to mind. Spontaneous and foreign, but it’s just right for a space marine. After all, why not satisfy his curiosity.
“Take off the top.” - you shudder, unable to understand the order. But your hands still reach for his shirt, as soon as Sevatar frowns. His voice drops, almost sounding like metal scraping. - “I won’t repeat it. Strip.”
You quickly remove the cloth, trying not to anger your master, looking at him carefully. Waiting like little prey to see what the predator's next move will be. But the snap of man's fingers pull you out of thoughts and you almost whimper, removing the fabric covering your breasts. You want to hide from the examining gaze, hug yourself with my arms. But you don’t do this, unable to move.
And Sevatar looks at you, unable to understand his train of thought. And why did he order you to do this? The body is like a body, ordinary mortal skin, on which it is easy to leave bruises (he can already see a couple) and easy to remove. The flesh is soft in comparison. Two bulges that reveal your femininity. Nothing special, he had seen naked bodies more than once in skinning pits.
But he can't turn his back on you. Something about you touches him. Sevatar clenches his teeth, almost growling. You cower, finally covering yourself, as if in one moment the man will tear you apart. In part, that's what he really wanted to do. Sink his teeth into the flesh, tear out pieces of meat, bury himself in your hair and remain in your scraps for an eternity.
Hearts sound loud and fast, echoing in a man’s head as he moves closer to you. Unwanted thoughts take over the mind, throwing all irrationality to the wind. He must touch you. He must tear you apart. Should kill you. Must be inside.
You can hardly breathe when a heavy hand touches your shoulder, caressing the tattoo. But this time Sevatar doesn’t turn you around with your back to him. Quite the opposite. With his other hand, the Space Marine throws your arms off your breast and presses your waist to him. The little heart is beating fast like a mouse caught in the clutches of a beast. The cheeks warm with the realization that the man is wearing only a loincloth.
The silence is abruptly interrupted by your short scream as Sevatar sinks his teeth into the line connecting the shoulder and neck. He was too cautious and careful so that you wouldn't break. But it still hurt you. The man licks your wound, enjoying your sobs. He fixes his gaze on you, hoping to see your suffering. And freezes.
Your eyes are wet, your mouth is slightly open. You were hurt, but there was something else in your face. Soft and gentle, long forgotten and buried in the depths of the minds of the Night Lords. But even as a mortal boy, Sevatar cannot remember a similar look. Only his mother looked at him like that, but still there was a difference. You didn't see him as a son.
You raise your hands and run your fingers over Sevatar's shoulders. Tender, fragile fingers that have never known hard work, have never held a weapon in their hands. Until you finally lock them behind his neck. You press your whole body against him so that he can feel your breasts.
For the first time in a long time, the man's breathing becomes unbearable. But not from pain, as usually happens in battle or because of the Gift. Sevatar would even say that he feels better than ever. His hearts began to beat even faster, and heat rushed through his body. You hissed in pain, feeling the hot skin beneath you. But you still clung to him.
“I can break you.” - he won't kill you. He won't let anyone hurt you. Any man who dares to look at you or speaks to say goodbye to his life. - “I am your master. And you are mine. You’re mine, aren’t you?”
He didn't like to share. Never lived in the slums of the night city. Not now, when he took the place of first captain. If he wanted something (and this rarely happened), he devoured it without leaving a trace. The Terminators were loyal only to him. And you. You should have given yourself to him too.
Sevatar watches with a sigh as your eyes fill with tears, rolling down your cheek. He instinctively licks them, touching your cheeks with his tongue and lips. Your eyes. And your lips. The last part of the body especially touched his nerves, but the man restrains himself so as not to rip out your lower face with his teeth.
“Do whatever you like.” - you pronounce the cherished words with a breath and a groan. Before fearfully and hesitantly rushing towards the pale face of the killer holding you captive. Your lips touch the scar on your chin. - "I'm yours."
You're a good girl. You are very very good. It’s even a pity that you fell into the hands of a beast who can barely control himself. Which knows only how to kill, cut and torture. But he will learn. And may it always hurt you, you will enjoy it just like now.
Sevatar tilts you until your head hits the pillow. The man settles on top of you, squeezing your waist and shoulders. He runs his fingers over the tattoo. He remembers, no, he studies what has eluded him all these years. What he was deprived of as an Astartes.
His hand lands on one of your breasts and squeezes, making you squeak, digging your nails into his shoulders. A bloody grin runs across Sevatar’s face, causing drops of your own blood to fall on your face. His hips move against yours on their own, as if imitating a process erased from his code.
This is only an imitation perverted by chemical treatment. And even so, Sevatar realizes a simple truth. He wants to be inside. He wants to take his sword and plunge it into you up to the hilt. He wants to fill you up so that liters of blood pour out of you.
Sevatar peers into your face before burying his nose in your shoulder with a groan. The whole body and mind are overwhelmed by a contradictory feeling of peace and rage, merging into a strange symbiosis. There is a confession on the tip of his tongue that he wants to say, but he can’t because he doesn’t know what the words are. Only one thing comes to mind.
“Call me Jago.” - the man almost closes his eyes from the coming sleep. Ahead there was only eternal night .
“This means?”
“Yes.”
#warhammer 40k x reader#yandere space marine#space marine x reader#night lord x reader#jago sevatarion x reader#sevatar x reader#tw: yandere#tw: obsession#tw: violence#tw: noncon#tw: stockholm syndrome
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Hot damn, void!!
@kit-williams
Rating: M
Warnings: Bro rubs one out. In the shower no less.
I adore this metaphorical (and in this case literal) wet beast. Thank you for letting me write this I hope I did his justice.
Hot water poured over Tulio's back as he leaned into the back wall of his shower stall. His forehead pressed to his forearm, which in turn was pressed against the wall.
He choked down a little groan of delight as his hand eagerly worked his length. His eyes were shut tight, blocking out any visual distractions as he brought the image of his beloved to mind. The curves of her form, even fully clothed, drove him wild with need. But he could never bring himself to force that need on her. He loved her too much. She was everything to him.
His panting grew steadily as he breathed in lungfulls of steamy air. The frustration of being alone in the shower instead of with her was killing him.
He bit his cheek and silently chided himself. He was an Astartes, not some hormonal teen boy.
Still, his longing to feel his darling's naked skin against his was driving him mad with need.
He moaned her name into the sounds of the shower. Quiet and desperate, as if speaking her name would summon her forth for him.
He knew he could demand her presence, and she would he brought to him. But he needed her to come willingly to come to him with desire in her eyes and need in every breath.
"She will." He assured himself, "Soon she will be mine, fully and completely." His hand picked up speed as he worked himself closer to completion. Lamenting somewhere in the back of his thoughts that this load would be wasted when it would be much better spent in her. Where it could sow life and make her his even more thoroughly.
Tulio bit his lip as he began to spill his seed onto the floor of the shower stall. It's pale off white thickness mixing with the water and washing down the drain.
He stayed there a minute longer, just panting and thinking. He should bring her with him into his chambers tonight. He could read to her from that book of poems she liked.
Reaching for the water, he shut it off. Yes, that would be how he showed his love for her tonight. And soon, he turned to watch the last of his seed slither down into the piping. Indeed, very soon, he would show her all the other ways he loved her.
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