#yandere space marine

[littledarknesgold]

Destiny Teeth

Warnings: Yandere, Obsessive, Possessive, Possessive behaviour, kidnapped.

One of your colleagues said that having Astartes chasing you is romantic. You wanted to punch that coworker in the face.

Even if you weren't a girl, you still felt uneasy with the feeling of eyes on your back on the street.

'Perhaps' you could have cared less about being a man, which is what your friends told you, and at first you didn't pay attention to it either, because apparently Space Marines only messed with women, but maybe at that moment you could have at least run away, but now no one will know.

You tried not to stay late at work and didn't take shortcuts through the courtyards, but you underestimated the determination of the top pursuer...

A huge armored hand covers your mouth and drags you into the darkness of the gateway.

Perhaps you really should have spent more time on this.

Now you wake up in an unknown place with no windows and only one iron door.

But don't worry! Now you have a new companion, who, by the way, locked you here.

[kit-williams]

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.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

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.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Dandelions and Yarrow (3)

Their deep root systems that allows them to withstand drought and poor soil conditions.

Amelia is finally home and gets to meet the newest space marine to settle in Gannet Point. Hurricane Alcyon storms the medical wing of the base. Erriox only wants to go home to his bonded.

**Dialogue in Gothic language is bolded and italicized. **

Author’s Notes: Previous Chapter, Three,

TW angst

Thanks @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan for letting me use Jophiel! Poor Erriox deciding to go through the medical wing on his way out was a poor decision.

Just a few points:

This takes place before Ben/Malaran “Orca” Blackspike storyline.

Amelia is bonded to Alcyon, a chaos Iron Warrior. These two share an intense bond that teeters on the point of becoming a mate bond.

Alcyon has a pretty good grasp of the english language. He usually communicates with Amelia in english and other Astartes in Gothic.

Thanks to @squishyowl for the divider image!

OCs: Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior), Amelia Plover

“Mom!” Amelia walks swiftly towards the older woman waiting in the airport and pulls her into a tight hug, “I missed you so much.”

Mara chuckled, hugging her daughter back lovingly, “I missed you too, fledgling. It wouldn’t have killed you to call a little more often, though.”

Amelia smiled sheepishly, “Yeah… sorry.”

Her adoptive mother patted her back before pulling away, smiling back at her, “I’m glad you’re here safe and sound. Ready to go?” She asked.

It was as if an invisible weight had been lifted off her shoulders. Amelia straightened as she walked alongside her mom to the car, “Let’s go home.”

They pulled up to Mara’s house where a very tall, rather handsome looking, armoured angel with large white wings waited at her aunt’s door. He looked at Amelia, then at Mara, and then at the luggage in the opened trunk, “I help.” He said, easily grabbing the luggage. Mara unlocked the door and the angel followed them inside the house, gently setting Amelia’s luggage down by the stairs.

Mara greeted him warmly, “Hello Jophi!”

“Thank you for your help.” Amelia said. She couldn’t help but smile. Recognizing that he was a space marine, she wondered if there were also other winged marines like him. He looked so young though, much much younger than Alcyon. Kind of adorable, really.

The winged Astartes smiled back, “You’re welcome.” He replied in stilted English. He then turned to her aunt, “Hello Auntie Mara! I am here for cookies?”

“Cookies? Ah… you mean these?” The older woman pointed at the cooled danishes and butterfly curls on the cookie racks. Jophiel nodded. Mira explained, “These are pastries. Cookies are the ones you ate in class.”

Amelia smiled, watching the space marine’s wings twitch and fluff excitedly, “Yes! I am here for the pastries.”

She helped her aunt pack a box full of the pastries then passed it to the marine.

“Your English is improving, Jophi!” Mara smiled, complimenting him. She then gasped, “I forgot introductions! Amelia, this is Jophiel, he’s been coming to my classes to learn english. He helps with heavy lifting around the house and baking sometimes. Jophi, this is Amelia, my niece and adopted daughter.”

“Daughter? Niece?… Cousin?” Jophiel asked.

Amelia laughed and said in Gothic, catching the winged marine in surprise, “You can call me “Cousin” if you wish. Did Mara adopt you too?”

“Yes.” He replied happily, switching to Gothic as well. Mara’s eyes crinkled with amusement and waved at the two, “You kids have a nice chat, I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me.” before leaving to package more pastry orders.

The two waved back before continuing their conversation. Jophiel gently touched her shoulder, pointing to the matching side on his neck, his voice serious, “You are hurt. An Iron traitor hurt you?”

She forgot how keen space marine senses were. Amelia wasn’t quite sure how to respond without the possibility of causing Jophiel to seek out Alcyon for revenge, “He is my bonded. We were rough with each other when we were mating.” She cringed inwardly at her own explanation, it’s like trying to explain sex to a younger sibling. A very big augmented younger sibling.

Thankfully, Jophiel wasn’t ignorant about what sex was nor did he ask for more details. He only looked rather confused and a little more than slightly concerned, “You wanted that?” He asked incredulously.

Amelia covered Alcyon’s bite mark hidden on her neck with her hand, ignoring the slight touch of pain from the tender spot, “Yes. I wanted it. Can we stop talking about this? This is embarrassing.” No, she didn’t want it, at least not at the time, but to preserve her own sanity, she was not about to have another Astartes thrown into protective overdrive on her ass about it.

Jophiel sighed, reluctantly dropping the subject. There wasn’t much he could do about his cousin being bonded to a chaos Astartes, especially when the chaos marine wasn’t present; it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t say nothing about it though. He thumped his chestplate and said, “If that chaos heretic hurts you and you need help, you let me know.”

While Jophiel’s attitude towards chaos space marines was very similar to her ex’s Black Templar, he was a lot more kind about it. Amelia smiled up at him, “I will. Thank you, Jophiel.”

“You are Mara’s daughter so therefore my cousin, it is only right that I protect you too.” He gently grasped her hand with his own.

She gave his fingers a reassuring squeeze, “Thank you.”

The angel-like marine poked his head into the kitchen to say goodbye to Mara before taking his leave. Then waved at her before leaving through the front door. She waved back, going to join her aunt.

“He’s a very sweet young man. A little skittish and shy, but a very nice boy.” Her aunt smiled warmly, “When he first arrived, people around thought he was actually an angel until Nemoth corrected them.” She chuckled.

“I can see that.” Amelia answered.

“Nemoth is still around?” She asked curiously.

Nemoth, or rather Nemoth Bassanar, was a Primaris space marine of the Dark Kraken chapter, who appeared, injured and confused, near Gannet Point many years ago. The townspeople at the time barely knew what a space marine was, but nevertheless took him in and healed his injuries. He then integrated himself with the village and soon became a beloved member of their little community.

Nemoth held a great love for natural history and wildlife, and was fascinated by the creatures that could be seen in and around Gannet Point. He could sometimes be seen assisting the fishermen and biologists or leading guided tours to see the seabird colonies and the northern gannet colonies from where the town got its namesake; if not teaching forging and metalwork at the local community centre. To say the least, Nemoth had been an integral part of almost all the children who grew up in Gannet Point in the last two decades or so.

“Yes! He’s running the decorative metalwork class at the community center around seven tonight. You should go join. I’m sure he won’t mind. He’d be happy to see you. And you might as well help me deliver that box of pastries over there to him as well.” Mara smiled.

Amelia hugged Mara warmly, relaxing as her mother hugged her back, “Thanks Mom, I’ll go do that.”

**************

Alcyon stormed into the medical ward heading straight towards Eric, a fellow medical technician who Amelia worked with.

“Where is she?! Where is Amelia!” He demanded, looming over the reception desk. Eric jumped back in shock.

“She’s on days off. She’s not here.” The tech replied, confused and frightened, quickly reaching for the panic button.

“Don’t think I don’t see what you’re doing!” Alcyon growled, grabbing Eric by his front lapel and roughly lifted him up to eye level, ignoring the panicked reactions of the human staff and patients, “Amelia tells you everything! Where did she say she was going?”

Eric wheezed, trying to grab onto the chaos marine’s gauntlet to relieve the tension of his clothes strangling him, “I don’t know. She never said anything about that!”

The chaos Iron Warrior shook the poor medical technician, “Then where would Amelia disappear to?!”

“Disappear? Amelia’s gone?” The young man looked concerned and perplexed. He clearly had no idea that Amelia had left.

“LET ERIC GO RIGHT NOW!” Osteron's voice boomed.

Alcyon snarled irritably, releasing Eric from his grasp. The medical aide fell to the floor, rubbing his throat.

The chaos Iron Warrior bared his teeth, closing his eye briefly to stay the pounding in his head and ignore the ache in his chest. He knew it was from that tattered bond of his. He needed to find Amelia; her presence could fix this, somehow, or at least soothe this pain, this constant aching.

Where was Amelia? Why did she leave? The thrumming of his frayed bond called out to him to find her. Find his bonded. Fix what was broken.

How dare she leave and not tell him where she went! Didn’t she know how this bond affected him? Did she want to kill him? Did their bond and everything they had meant nothing to her? Where did Amelia go?! He needed her. He needed her to stay with him, to mend this bond. He can’t let this break. He’ll have to go home and restart his search. Once he finds her, he will never let her out of his sight. Keep her under lock and key if he had to.

Osteron knew something was very wrong with the chaos Iron Warrior, “Brother Alcyon, stay where you are!” He barked at him.

Alcyon ignored him and turned his heel to leave the medical wing.

“You two! Help me restrain him!” Osteron ordered.

Kalium quickly passed his bonded youngling to one of the nurses before going to capture the wayward chaos marine. Seeing that he was the one of the two Astartes that the apothecary was referring to, Erriox sighed and went to aid his brothers, his hope of going home to Lenora early quickly dashed.

Recognizing Kalium as the one who he’s seen being friendly flirty with Amelia and lingered around her unnecessarily (in his opinion) when she worked, Alcyon roared, “You! You’re the one who tried to steal my MATE!” and launched himself at the offending battle-brother, knocking them both down.

The other Iron Warrior tried to roll him off to no avail, “Don’t blame me! You’re the one who hurt her! That’s why Amelia left and didn’t tell anyone where she went! Wasn’t it?!” Kalium accused the older chaos marine.

Alcyon saw red.

“Everyone! Get into a room!” Osteron ordered. Doctors, nurses, patients, and techs scrambled to move to safety as a brawl erupted in the medical wing.

The chaos marine kicked Erriox off before turning his full attention to trading punches with Kalium. Metal screeched as Alcyon’s claw grazed his helm. Kalium managing to dodge the blow in the bare milliseconds the chaos marine stabbed down towards his face. His eyes widened in alarm when Alcyon used his claw with more dexterity than he ever thought possible, deftly releasing his helm and flip it off his head, the helmet skidding down the hallway before coming to a stop. Erriox quickly took advantage of their position and pinned the chaos marine, grabbing his metal claw to keep his battle-brother from stabbing Kalium with it. Osteron pinned his legs.

Alcyon switched to punching Kalium in the face with his other fist instead. A sharp sensation made him hiss as Osteron plunged a needle deep into his neck, injecting a strong tranquilizer into his system. Despite that, he managed to free one of his legs and back-kicked hard against Osteron, sending the apothecary to his knees.

“Say her name again and I will rip your tongue from your mouth!” Alcyon raged as he struggled harder.

Kalium grappled Alcyon’s one arm and leg from underneath him, keeping his other elbow under his brother’s chin to prevent the chaos Iron Warrior from biting him, snarling back, “You don’t deserve to be Amelia’s bonded!”

Erriox was nearly bucked off the chaos marine at that statement.

“Damn it, Kalium! Stop egging him on! Calm down Alcyon!” Erriox yelled irritably from Alcyon’s other side, struggling to take off his prosthetic metal claw, “How long Osteron?!” He called out.

“Twenty seconds!”

Nowhere had there been someone calming down when being yelled at to calm down if his chaos battle brother, nearly throwing him off again, armour and all, was anything to go by. Erriox smacked Alcyon in the back of his head hard in retaliation though it seemed to do little to dissuade his struggling. Osteron scolded him, “Stop that! We don’t need to add a head injury on top of what is going on!”

His skull is hard enough to take it, Erriox thought crankily. Grumbling, the Iron Warrior threw away the metal claw he removed then forced all of his body weight on top of the thrashing chaos marine. It was so tempting to repeatedly punch him in the head to knock him out faster… but Osteron wouldn’t approve. Kalium, being very glad that he wore his armour today, finally managed to slip out from under Alcyon, and pin down his other side. Eventually the chaos marine struggled less and less until he went fully unconscious.

“Strap him into a bed and put him in Room Five. This tranquilizer only lasts thirty minutes at best.” Osteron urged as they hauled the unconscious Iron Warrior onto a bed and wheeled him into the room.

*************

Amelia took a deep breath as she opened the door to Nemoth’s classroom. The Dark Kraken dark eyes brightened as he welcomed her warmly, “Amelia! It has been a long time!”

“It’s good to see you again, Nemoth.” She smiled as she put down her mother’s box of pastries and hugged the Primaris marine.

He hugged her back, saying, “Welcome back.”

“Thanks. I brought the box of the pastries that you ordered.” Amelia gestured to the box on his desk.

“Yes, thank you. Your mother’s baked goods are delicious. Would you like to stay for this class? It’s decorative metalwork for beginners so I can’t see why you couldn’t join us.” The tall space marine asked her.

Amelia considered that for a moment and agreed, “I would like that.” She paused, “Would you be free to talk after class? I would like your advice on something.”

“Of course.”

That decision was well worth the experience. Amelia had taken a few metalwork classes from Nemoth when she was young, so his class was a wonderful refresher. After the class ended, the roomed cleaned up, and the students have left, Amelia stayed behind to chat with the Dark Kraken.

“Something troubling you?” Nemoth asked her. He could detect the scent of an Iron Traitor on Amelia and his sharp eyes could make out the dark bruising and light scarring on her neck that she hid under her makeup. The Dark Kraken frowned slightly, “Did a chaos Astartes hurt you?”

Her eyes widened and she stuttered in embarrassment, “Uh… no, not like that. My bonded is a chaos Iron Warrior and… we were rough with each other during sex.” She quickly ended, her face going red. It wasn’t the entire truth, but it wasn’t exactly a lie. And it was horribly embarrassing to explain it to the space marine who watched you grow up.

Like Jophiel, he asked with a worried expression, “And you are ok with this?”

“Yes. I agreed to it.” Amelia replied, blushing heavily, looking away from the space marine.

Nemoth sighed, his pale hand patted the seat beside him, “Sit beside me. I know it is not for me to judge what you do with your bonded Astartes, but I would caution to not let your Astartes be too rough, worse injuries can occur accidentally if he doesn’t mind his strength.”

“I will be careful.” Amelia said as she sat down in her seat.

“What do you want advice on?” The Primaris space marine asked, getting straight to the point.

Amelia told him the story about how her ex-husband’s Black Templar Astartes started to cut off access to her son once they had divorced, and how she had tried to remain in contact with her son, resulting in Alcyon’s eventual fight with the Black Templar which caused them to be banned from her son’s school, ending at the big argument that she had with her own Astartes.

The furrow in his brows deepened the longer he listened, “This is troublesome indeed.” Nemoth hummed, “I have two questions: One, did you contact your ex-husband to discuss this issue? It seems like the Iron Tr- Warrior acted on his own, so it is not entirely your fault. Two, your bonded Astartes, did he harm you too?”

“I’ve been in contact with him and while he understands my issue, he and his family still went ahead to file a restraining order against me. Safety reasons, they said.” Amelia spat bitterly. Her voice cracked, “They threatened to take Ben away! And that I’ll never see him again!” Tears ran down her cheeks as she started to bawl.

“I don’t know what to do! Where do I even start?”

A large warm hand rubbed circles on her back as she shuddered from the intensity of her crying, finally releasing so much stress and frustration held within her.

“It’s ok, let out your sorrows.” Nemoth said, handing Amelia a kleenex box, “It is a lot to keep inside. I gave your mother contacts for a few lawyers who specialize in Astartes and human law when she asked for help regarding your matter. Apologies, that is all I could do to help you.”

She wiped her face and smiled wanly at the Dark Kraken, “Thanks Nemoth. It’s somewhere I can start with. And to answer your second question, no, he did not.”

Nemoth raised a brow but did not push the issue, “If you ever feel that your Astartes is a danger to you. You can contact me. Alright?”

“I will. Thanks Nemoth.” Amelia affirmed.

He put his hand on her shoulder, worry seeping into his voice, “Be careful that you don’t fall into the same corruption that led your Astartes into chaos. The humans that have been corrupted in my time do not meet good endings. I don’t wish to see any of the children I’ve watched growing up become beyond saving.”

Amelia patted his hand, “I won’t, I promise.”

****************

Lenora quickly picked up her phone, hearing the familiar ringtone from her Astartes’ call, “Erriox?”

“Lenora. I will be staying at the base for several more days to keep watch over my battle brother.”

Her brows furrowed with concern, “Are you both alright?”

She heard a huff at the other end of the line, “I’m fine, my brother… is not well.”

“Alright, take care of yourselves. I love you.”

“Same to you.” Came Erriox’s warm reply, “I will come home as soon as this is over. See you then.”

[gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan]

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.

[kit-williams]

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

[shiyorin]

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]

[littledarknesgold]

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.

[kit-williams]

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."

[thevoidscreams]

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.

𝕾𝖚𝖒𝖒��𝖗𝖞: 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.

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Courtly Love

[Part 1], [Part 2], [Part 3],

Summary: You think about leaving the Great Crusade, but suddenly you become the personal remembrancer of a talented swordsman.

Lucius The Eternal/fem!Reader(Camellia)

Warnings: no for this part

Word count: 2383

Author's note: the story would be about the fell of Emperor's Children including Istvaan V so with every chapter there would be more warnigs.

Song: Depeche Mode - Sweetest Perfection

To be born into the greatest era of humanity was a miracle. Billions of people were blessed with it. But to become part of something powerful, to contribute to the history of humanity. Only a few could dream of that. To become part of the Great Crusade especially.

Your grandfather served for many years for the good of the Imperium. You were not drafted into the Imperial Army and lived as a civilian. Became a historian and, it must be said, quite successful in your field. And you were proud of such a life and did not ask for more.

And yet, when the Emperor announced the creation of the Order of Remembrancers, you were stunned by the news. Of course, as a child, you dreamed of becoming part of the Crusade and recording the history of the defenders of the Imperium. But your family told you enough stories for you to understand an important idea. Civilians have no place in war.

But your grandfather assured you that for this very reason you were the best candidate. Even without knowing war, you already understood the seriousness of the Crusade. Besides, you studied the history of war, and swordsmanship in particular. Were you unworthy of becoming a remembrancer? The order accepted anyone who was connected with the arts, even those who knew nothing about war.

So you applied for permission anyway. And not only was it approved, but you were also able to get on board with Fulgrim himself! Many Primarchs did not want to take remembrancers, and you understood their dislike. But the Phoenician opened his arms to all connoisseurs of art. You were awaited on the Pride of the Emperor.

Could your participation in the Crusade be the best decision in your life?

***

Now you regret your decision, sadly remembering the joy of stepping aboard the Pride of the Emperor. Only a month had passed, and you already wanted to return home as soon as possible. But to leave the Crusade so soon would be to show disrespect to Fulgrim, disappoint your family, and make yourself look pathetic.

And indeed, the Primarch had fulfilled his promise. Not only were the Remembrancers given La Fenice to create and share ideas, they were allowed to visit many places that were inaccessible to Remembrancers from other Legions! Some were even granted the honor of visiting the command bridge.

But you wanted to leave the Crusade for another reason. You were lonely. You tried to make friends with other Remembrancers, but these were pathetic and pointless attempts. Many of them were real talents, wonderful people who glorified the Third Legion in all forms of art. You were simply embarrassed and even afraid to approach them.

Others were vain and vicious enough that you found it disgusting to approach them. Although perhaps you were too harsh with other remembrancers. Too petty. As if you enjoyed stewing in your own sadness and loneliness, enjoying the suffering of the soul.

Little Venice was a wonderful place where people could be inspired by other people's ideas and inspire others. A place where their own little history was made. Poetry was written, paintings were painted and philosophical debates were held. And although at times some overdid it with arguments, alcohol and flirting, it did not reach full-fledged vulgarity.

Part of you wanted to be a full member of this cultural community, but your shyness (or arrogance, as the remembrancers who disliked you said) did not allow you to cross the line. So if you visited La Fenice, you mostly kept to yourself. Much more often you spend time in your modest quarters or in the library, absorbing as many books as possible.

But one day you decided to break your gray routine. The walls of your chambers drove you crazy, La Fenice was stuffy. And you did not dare to go into the library after one incident. When one man cornered you and gave you a flower. Shame still glimmered in your heart, fettering your limbs.

Perhaps it could have been romantic, but wandering eyes and a lewd smile betrayed the man's true intentions. But it was not the lewd vulgarity that forced you to seek a new refuge. But the words with which he gave you the flower.

"There are many beautiful roses in the area, but even a camellia can catch an eye."

Even. It is clear that your "admirer" rarely really courted the ladies, and did not immediately lead them to bed. The compliment sounded like a real insult. You were quite a pretty girl. Yes, you could not afford many cosmetics or high-quality augmentations as stars like Bekqua Kinska. But that doesn't mean you were worse.

Maybe you're even better. Maybe you deserve the best. And people like that remembrancer can't understand that. They can't even imagine how great your talent is. Unlike those ignoramuses, you at least knew something about war. Who do they think they are?

You stopped halfway, ashamed by your arrogant thoughts. No, you mustn't let envy and sadness consume you. Since you were aboard the Pride of the Emperor as a historian, you must fulfill that role. For a month, you helped the archivist with his work. But first and foremost, you must glorify the Third Legion. That was your task.

And you were going to fulfill it.

The remembrancers had access to many halls. Some required special status. But some of them were still accessible to the general public. Although many connoisseurs of art did not visit them for various reasons. Apparently, many of them thought that watching the Astartes training was boring. Especially since they were allowed to visit only some halls.

But this was just right for you. The very opportunity to witness the martial skill of the Emperor's chosen was intoxicating. You thought more than once about finally entering this part of the ship, but always retreated. You did not want to be intrusive, you were afraid to interfere. Should thank the bastard from the archive, because he pissed you off enough that you finally managed to reach the right doors.

Sighing, you slowly entered the hall, trying not to make noise. Part of you wished it was empty and you would return to your quarters. But another part of you rejoiced at the characteristic sounds of battle. After a couple of steps, you finally saw the whole picture.

Your depressed face lights up with reverent admiration. And all sad thoughts evaporate in an instant as soon as the beautiful warrior repels the attack of the battle servitor again. There was no one else in the room except for the two of you, and you rejoiced at such luck.

Like all space marines, the man was tall and massive. And yet his body was built exactly like a swordsman, not a butcher. Not to mention the level of fencing. You watched with delight as the warrior's sword whistled like lightning, cutting through the air before delivering the final hit after a couple of blows.

The battle servitor falls with a crash, breaking into pieces. The young man, sweating just a little, swings his sword a couple more times. Steel cuts the air, sparks fly from the defeated servitor like fireworks. Clearly enjoying the moment of victory, the man almost gets into an appropriate pose. Before he turns his gaze in your direction.

Only at that moment did you realize that the only noise in the hall was the battle between the Marine and the Servitor. But you successfully disrupted it by starting to applaud enthusiastically. Embarrassed, you quickly stop and press your hands to your sides with force, as if they could continue to express admiration for the man's fighting skills without permission.

“Oh, apologize my lord. I'm one of the remembrancers. We were given permission to visit the training hall.” - your cheeks begin to burn as you fidget with your clothes, retreating to the saving exit. - “But I interrupted you, s-so sorry. I'll leave now-”

“Wait!” - the man hastily shouted and you stopped in place. With bated breath, you look at the swordsman, fearing anger. But seeing his face, you only gasp in surprise.

He was smiling. Not maliciously, not arrogantly. And like a little boy who saw a new toy. It was... unusual. All the Astartes exuded preterhuman, almost inhuman beauty, strength and just spirit. A different kind, which was in some way above mere mortals. But right now, one of the Emperor's Angels stood before you, smiling as a random passerby on the street might smile.

Does that mean that your idea of ​​​​Space Marines was wrong, or was the swordsman an exception?

“You liked it, huh?” - the young man only smiled more when you nodded. He immediately acquired a proud look and you couldn’t help but smile back, unable to resist his charisma. - “I am Lucius, one of the best swordsmen of the Third Legion. You are very lucky that you ran into me and not some amateur.”

You, impressed by the meeting, did not pay attention to Lucius’s arrogance. Even if he is a space marine, even immortal warriors like praise. You nodded before looking enthusiastically at the man’s exquisite sword. The familiar outlines gave away its origin.

“I recognize this style... Such swords were forged in the forges of Urals during the Unification Wars” - your voice trembled with delight, and your eyes were unable to tear themselves away from the unusually long hilt of the sword. You had only seen such weapons in books and were amazed to see that in reality they were even more beautiful than you thought.

Lucius blinks his eyes in surprise. He looks at you, at the sword, and back at you. And then he bursts into laughter as if he had heard the funniest joke in his life or seen a funny sight.

“I didn’t know that you, scribes, understood war. Or did the best of you go to the Emperor’s Children?” - your cheeks warm up from the man’s words. Pride takes over your entire being and the old doubts about your candidacy go away.

“Well, my specialty is the history of fencing, so I understand the art of war.” - you shyly fidget with your fingers, trying not to turn into a puddle. - “O-of c-course, the theory, uh. I’m not a warrior, but I would like to see all these techniques in practice.”

You froze from the words spoken out loud. The teachers were right, you need to think first and then speak. And you always followed this rule. But you forgot all about propriety the moment you saw the mastery of the sword. No, you didn't ask to be in the fighting. You asked to become his personal chronicler!

The Third Legion had assembled an entire army of remembrancers in some way. Many were much more popular and influential. Such individuals were given entire studios, not a small quarters like yours. And for a whole month, not a single one of them asked to become a personal remembrancer of a legionary. One could only dream of Fulgrim. Although if other primarchs did not bestow the attention of artists and actors, the Phoenician basked in the adoration of many of you.

And you dared not only to distract a space marine from training, but also asked to be his documentarian. You'll be lucky if he lets you go home and doesn't ridicule you. What a shame.

"Oh, sorry! I always speak before I think." - You feel your cheeks heat up, and your voice starts to tremble with shame. - “There are plenty of remembrancers on the ship, and many of them are worthy of becoming your personal chronicler. I-I was just so impressed by your swordsmanship that I stupidly blurted out-”

“YES!” - Lucius screamed so loudly and enthusiastically that you covered your ears in pain. But the swordsman didn’t even think of apologizing for the inconvenience. - “I need a personal chronicler! You have no idea how many of my exploits you’ll have to record. My brothers will be bad storytellers. With me, you’ll write the greatest book.”

It’s not like you were going to write a book, and you were more of a historian. But you didn’t want to upset the happy swordsman. Besides, you were lucky to be in the right place at the right time. So why not take advantage of this opportunity?

You bite your lip in embarrassment, looking at the completely smooth, scarless young face. Green, shining eyes resemble summer grass and you involuntarily admire the man. He is so handsome. Lucius probably knows this, but he could never understand what a loss it is that he became an Astartes, do he?

“It would be an honor for me.”

“And what an honor! Hey, so you know the styles of fencing?” - seeing your nod, the swordsman grinned from ear to ear. - “All right. I’ll use a couple of techniques now, and you have to tell me what school they are from.”

Lucius didn’t even wait for your answer. He didn’t care that you might have other things to do. If you became his personal chronicler, then you should have started your duties right now. But you were just waiting for this opportunity.

Giving in to his joy, you smiled brightly, already freely entering the training hall. You had already noticed the weapons that it would be a great lucky to study in the future. But for now, all your attention was captured by the young man playing with the sword like a toy, ready to show all the great capabilities of the Astartes for nothing.

A new combat servitor who entered the arena humbly waited for a new series of blows to be unleashed on him. Lucius throws his sword into the air, casually grabbing it, showing off his skills to you. Hearing your delighted sigh, he winks at you.

“I forgot, what's your name again?”

The Servitor falls from the first couple of hits and the hall bursts into applause again. Lucius looks back at you with delight, as if he’s happier than you are at this meeting. As if he’s been waiting for such recognition all his life. And you, enchanted by his talent, repeated your name as if bewitched.

The Crusade promised to be the best chapter in your life.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Dandelions and Yarrow (2)

Despite the arid conditions and the hardened ground, these plants are still able to survive.

Amelia calls her mom and decides to go home. Alcyon rages out on a mission then goes home, only to find a note and Amelia missing.

**Any dialogue in the Gothic language is bolded and italicized.**

Chapters: Previous Chapter <<<< Chapter Two >>>> Next Chapter

Author’s Note:

Goodness, this chapter took a while to write, but finally it is done! There is more to come.

TW angst, threats, some lewdness (Slanneshi Blood Angel, what else can I say?)

Just a few points:

This takes place before Ben/Malaran “Orca” Blackspike storyline.

Amelia is bonded to Alcyon, a chaos Iron Warrior. These two share an intense bond that teeters on the point of becoming a mate bond.

Alcyon has a pretty good grasp of the english language. He usually communicates with Amelia in english and other Astartes in Gothic.

Thanks to @squishyowl for the divider image!

Song Inspiration: Take me back to Eden by Sleep Token

OCs: Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior), Amelia Plover

Tagged: @shadowfirecat, @kit-williams, @bleedingichorhearts, @barn-anon, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@sleepyfan-blog, @c-u-c-koo-4-40k, @bispecsual, @ms--lobotomy

Amelia dialled a number which she hadn’t dialled for a very long time, “Aunt Mara? Mom?”

“Amelia? Oh sweetie! I haven’t heard from you in so long! I missed you so much... Are you alright?” Mara stopped when she heard the hiccups in her adopted daughter’s voice, “What happened dear? It’s okay to tell me. I’m here for you.”

Amelia started sobbing, “Mom, I fucked up so badly!”

Mara cooed soothingly, “It’s okay. You can tell me what happened. We can figure it out together…”

She heard Amelia struggle to steady her breathing, blurting out words in between punctuating sobs, trying to tell her the events culminating into the massive fight she had with Alcyon short of their physical altercation.

Mara’s heart broke for her daughter. Niece, if being technical, since Mara had adopted Amelia after her sister’s and her brother-in-law’s death in that car accident so many years ago.

Mara knew Amelia didn’t have the easiest time in her marriage and she wasn’t too happy about her daughter being in such close proximity to her in-laws to be honest, snooty bunch ultra-religious coots they were. But it seemed that her son-in-law had broken out of the religion and they were happy enough, and happier still when Amelia gave birth to Ben.

Luckily, Mara was able to see Ben grow up for a while. Despite the distance, their little family had made a few yearly visits to Gannet Point, and she visited them whenever she was able. All that stopped about three years ago when her son-in-law bonded with a space marine. She had met him once. He was a Black Templar, big, quiet, polite enough, but wholly cold and intimidating, so very different from Nemoth Bassanar, the Dark Kraken space marine who had taken residence in her hometown. Mara wasn’t quite sure what to think about the templar, but she hoped that he was kind and a good addition to their little family.

Unfortunately, the appearance of the bonded Black Templar marine started what seemed to be a series of events that led to the divorce. The fact that the Black Templar had bonded with her son-in-law had only increased the in-laws' religious fervor, demanding that Ben be raised in the ultra-religious household. It was rather unfortunate that her son-in-law seemed to cow to his family’s demands and rarely stood up for Amelia. Mara completely disapproved of that attitude, but was helpless to do anything else.

Then things started going further downhill when a chaos Iron Warrior followed Amelia home one day. Which had Mara actually getting into a nasty argument with the in-laws on the cruel things she overheard them say about her daughter when she visited. Needless to say, she wasn’t allowed to visit any more. Amelia and her ex divorced eventually, perhaps all for the better, but it hadn’t been easy as the family was convinced that she was going to corrupt Ben because she bonded with a chaos Astartes. It didn’t make sense, there were plenty of people who had bonded with chaos space marines who had no issues whatsoever.

As for the chaos Iron Warrior her daughter bonded with, Alcyon; Mara hadn’t met him yet. The one time she visited Amelia after her divorce, he had been on a mission. She just hoped that he would treat her daughter well and be her protector.

This whole mess of events made just seemed to be the culmination of everything that happened within the last year. And it broke her heart knowing that this would mean that they may never see Ben again. Perhaps Nemoth may have some suggestions on how to deal with this issue or point them in the right direction? It also wouldn’t hurt for Amelia to be around some friendly familiar faces. She’s been trying to get Amelia to come home for a while now.

Mara gently suggested, once her daughter had finished her story, “ Why don’t you come home to Gannet Point and stay however long you need. You know home is always open for you.”

Amelia smiled, quickly using the tissue in her hand to blow her nose, “I… would like that.”

***************

This mission couldn’t have come at a more opportune time. Angry and frustrated at what just transpired between Amelia and him, and irritated by the aching of his torn bond; Alcyon was just set to explode. Destroying wreckage, training and sparring with his brothers let off only so much steam. Everyone around him noticed Alcyon’s volatile mood and the fact that he was spending most if not all his time on base, though no one was dumb enough to comment after one of his battle brothers joked about him being locked out of the house after a lover’s spat during sparring and was sent to the medical ward with a broken arm and a bad concussion posthaste.

They had been tasked with bringing down a blood den that some fallen Blood Angels had formed. A blood den in itself wouldn’t have been an issue. The fact that Blood Angels require drinking human blood was pretty much an open secret at this point, it wasn’t exactly a well-kept secret with how much baseline humans liked to talk about it, given how common it is to see bonded Blood Angels.

Most blood dens that were set up tend to have baseline humans and the occasional Astartes going there seeking pleasure and/or relief and in turn being drunk from; like a well-run pleasure business. Keep customers satisfied and they would return for more, which in turn kept the Blood Angels fed and sane.

With the odd feral (usually of fallen to chaos Blood Angels) blood den, there are usually a few missing people involved, sometimes those lucky enough to be let go reappeared in some random place: weak, dazed, and confused. But this particular den of fallen Blood Angels had started targeting bonded humans.

They were psykers, not powerful ones (luckily), as reports noted, and were under the influence of Slannesh. Indulging in lust and pain of killing a hapless victim wasn’t enough once they discovered the effect of killing a bonded human. To feel the psychic backlash that a broken bond causes to both bonded parties and to its breaker was an overload of pain and sensation. It was like an addictive drug to them.

With Steelix Fortress being the closest base to the den, Alcyon and his chaos-aligned battle brothers were sent to exterminate them as these Blood Angels were deemed too far gone to be worth keeping alive.

Of course why not use chaos to fight chaos? At least that’s what it felt like, when they were given that assignment.

His squad of chaos battle brothers largely stayed out of his way as they each were let loose with their own heretic Blood Angel to hunt. There were no human serfs or thralls as the IXth Legion would call them, luckily. Otherwise it would have been a much more messy affair.

Alcyon arrived at one of the Blood Angel’s lair. The first thing his sight honed in on was the woman the fallen Astartes was drinking from. Was she… She looked so similar to…

Amelia.

The broken bond pulsed, causing the muscles in his back to seize slightly. He let out a low growl, “Let her go.”

He stared intensely at the claw and bite marks all over the woman's body. No, those were not his marks. That was not Amelia.

The woman moaned weakly. Still alive.

His tormented mind heard Amelia’s voice.

“Let. Her. Go.” His growl grew louder, more threatening, his rage building.

A wide grin came over the Blood Angel when he looked at who the Iron Warrior was staring intently at. “Oh her? Is she yours? She’s beautiful by the way, and her blood is most appetising.”

The woman whined in pain when the Blood Angel sucked on the open wound in her shoulder. He chuckled, “Her despair was incredibly satisfying. That look of betrayal when she realized the friendly Blood Angel is nothing but a farce is such delicious inspiration. These baselines are so easy to fool.”

“And your bond…” he breathed deeply, “It tears in the most delightful way, the pain from it was so profoundly stimulating.” He groaned, palming his crotch.

Alcyon stood there, silent, letting the Blood Angel monologue on, but inside, he was seething with anger.

Annoyed at the lack of reaction, the Slanneshi Blood Angel’s face fell into a petulant pout. He carelessly dropped the woman to the side, who collapsed into a boneless heap, “You Iron Warriors, are all the same: dull, boring, with no sense of art or flare.”

He then stared straight at Alcyon and started laughing hysterically, “Oh… I see now… Your bond is torn! Just not with this woman!”

The Blood Angel got up from the couch and stalked towards him with a predatory grace, “What happened? Your woman not satisfying your needs? A lover’s spat?” He said, grinning, not missing the way Alcyon’s fist tightened around his chainsaw handle. “Perhaps you’re the one not satisfying your bonded’s needs… Maybe I can assist with that… surely she would delight in someone who can take her beyond the limits of their pleasure and pain.”

Alcyon grit his teeth hard, furious at the Blood Angel’s audacity. The ache from the bond pulsed in his chest. He just needed the bastard to come within his reach; fuck using the chainsaw. That would just be a waste.

The Slanneshi Angel licked his lips, his eyes lighting up in anticipatory pleasure, “To watch the two of you suffer, watching each other as you lay dying and while I get to ravage her. Feeling your bond break and taste your despair. Oh, your final pain would be glorious! I can already taste it!” He pounced.

Alcyon had been anticipating that from him. Twisting to one side, he dodged the corrupted Blood Angel, quickly sweeping his leg causing the Blood Angel to trip and fall. He brought his heavy mechanized leg down on to the fallen chaos marine, hearing a satisfying crack as Alcyon’s full armored weight came bearing down with full force onto the vulnerable hinge of the Angel’s leg, breaking the ends of the bones attached at the knee joint.

Already half drunk from feeling the backlash from nearly breaking his earlier victim’s bond apart, the Angel only moaned in pain and ecstasy, then laughed; an ugly noise, “Jealous? I can teach you how to better use that mouth of yours. I bet she makes the prettiest noises with my tongue in her cun— grkh!” The heavy impact from the Iron Warrior’s boot to his gut drove the breath from his lungs as he was rising up.

“Shut up.”

Alcyon gave him no quarter, pinning the Slanneshi marine by the head and back, and tore into him, his metal claw ripping off the ceramite armor pieces and stabbing into the vulnerable flesh of his shoulder below. Blood gushed as muscle and sinew tore apart, the Iron Warrior’s claw digging past the scapula and to grab the humerus where it connected to the shoulder girdle. With a great heave, he ripped the arm right off the Slanneshi Blood Angel.

The Blood Angel roared in pain and flailed as he attempted to escape, splattering blood in every direction. Alcyon kept his full weight on the squirming Blood Angel and smashed his head into the ground, snarling, “Did that wake you from your drunken stupor?”

The Slanneshi marine hissed and bared his fangs at the chaos Iron Warrior, “You forget honour…”

“What honour? You have long sullied that, indulging Slannesh’s embrace!” Alcyon sneered in disgust, smashing his head into the dirt again.

The Blood Angel spat out dirt and blood, in pain, but grinning madly, “Yet you’re the one who sullied your own bond. What did you do, Iron Warrior? Did you…” he was cut off before he went into more lurid detail

“Do not. Insult me. You overindulging. Drunken. Psyker. Piece. Of grox shit!” Alcyon roared out, pounding the Blood Angel’s face harder and harder into the ground with each emphasis, not stopping, his grip tight on his scalp, his sight zoned in on the battered face.

“Brother Alcyon. Brother Alcyon!”

“What!” He snarled at whoever was calling him off his prey. The sound of buzzing insects filled his ears. The Death Guard in his squad, Polistes, stood by his shoulder with the unconscious woman in his arms, staring at the twitching body under the Iron Warrior’s heels.

“Half his face is sufficiently cracked if you intend to make scrambled eggs from his brain.” came Polistes’ joking comment, “We’re done here. I have the injured woman; finish up and let’s leave this place.”

“Fucking Slanneshi Psykers!” Alcyon spat as his heavy boot came down on the dying marine’s skull, splattering brain matter all over the ground.

Where’s Amelia? Was she hurt? Was she safe? Amelia. Amelia. Amelia. Amelia. His mind chanted as they left the blood den.

She’s fine. Probably still angry. There is no need to call… She’s not fine. What if… she’s fine… I don’t know that… Amelia… Alcyon could feel his bond pulse, his anxiety need to confirm her safety winning out. He called Amelia over vox, their fight be damned.

“Alcyon? What do you want?” Her voice, sounding exhausted, came over the channel.

“Are you safe? Are you home?” He blurted out. Alcyon knew should’ve said something to apologize perhaps, but couldn’t. In hindsight, he probably should have.

“Safe? Yes?” She sounded so confused.

“Good.” The Iron Warrior ended the call, the aching from his bond slightly abated. He needed to go home as soon as this was over. He needed to see Amelia in person and make sure his bonded was safe. She better not have changed the locks to their home while he was away… What was he thinking? Alcyon grumbled, even if she did change the locks; he could easily break in the door. Must be this aching that’s distracting him.

****************

Amelia looked at her phone strangely after Alcyon curtly ended the call. What was going on? A small part of her was glad that he checked on her, but the aches and pains in her body reminded her still to be wary of him.

She had planned to go to Gannet Point for a week and a bit to visit her adoptive mother and see the rest of home. Amelia missed her family, much more so now. It would be nice to see friendly familiar faces again. She called the base, telling the head tech that she needed to take time off to recover from the aftermath of getting banned from Ben’s school and to figure out what to do next. Which they had graciously granted.

Not wanting to risk another confrontation with Alcyon finding out where she was going, lest he decides to trap her here given his mood; she called the airport to book her ticket for the next flight out to Gannet Point.

Amelia then turned her attention to the damage on the wall and table. Sighing at the gouges, she diligently repaired the wall and the table, filling in the holes with wall putty and wood filler. She robotically moved from task to task: cleaning her home, throwing away her torn clothes, using up whatever food was left in the fridge, and packing a small suitcase of clothes and supplies for her trip.

After all was said and done, Amelia took a quick shower and sat in front of her computer. She pulled out a piece of paper and started writing a letter to Alcyon. Outside of letting him know that she’ll be away for a week and a half, Amelia wasn’t sure what else to say.

She did not want to tell her bonded Astartes, if they were still that, where she was going. Her birth home was her safe haven that she kept near and dear to her heart. The last thing she wanted was for Alcyon to come charging in to take her away and get into a fight with Nemoth, the Dark Kraken space marine who practically watched her and other children grow up at Gannet Point. Amelia’s heart felt sore; she was so tired and confused. It felt right for her to just get away from it all; go somewhere safe to lick her wounds and recuperate, and figure out what to do next. Yet guilt tugged at her chest, as if telling her that she should stay and work it out with Alcyon. Tears started to drop on the letter she was writing.

The sun just broke over the horizon when Amelia prepared to leave for her flight. She looked forlornly at the small box containing the pieces of the broken fish figurine, and in a last minute decision, packed it into her suitcase. A ping sounded as a text on her phone notified her of her taxi’s arrival. Amelia placed her letter on the table and left, locking the door behind her.

****************

Alcyon sensed something was off when he arrived at his shared home with Amelia. Her presence was fainter than normal, as if she hadn’t been home for at least a day.

His nausea started to build as he checked every room of their empty home. Everything was neat and tidied. There was no signs of a struggle nor signs of anyone else that may have snuck in. Alcyon stared at his claw marks in the walls and table that were filled and sanded. Even the fish statuette that he broke was cleaned up and likely thrown away. It was only then he realized that Amelia had not changed the locks on him. It was of little consolation when she herself had disappeared.

Where was she? Where was his Amelia?

A letter on the table caught his eye. His world narrowed with each neatly written gothic word he read:

Alcyon, I will be leaving for ten days. Don’t worry. It is safe where I am going. I just (the ink blurred there. He could smell the remnants of her tears) need to be away, to think about what I need to do next. I promise I will return. I lov- (she had scribbled out the last sentence.)

Amelia.

His lungs froze as if he had been struck by a beam from a Helfrost pistol. She left. Amelia left him. A chaos of emotions whirled uncomfortably in his gut.

No. She promised she will return in ten days. He only needed to wait ten days… what if she didn’t want to return? Bile rose in his throat. The Iron Warrior doubled over, throwing up into the kitchen sink. His metal claw dug into the counter, supporting his shaking shoulders as he turned on the faucet to wash his vomit down the drain.

Suddenly feeling suffocated by his heavy armour, Alcyon quickly stripped out of it and made his way to Amelia’s room. He hacked into her computer, searching through her emails, online messages, search history; searching for anything that would give him a clue, something, anything that could indicate where his bonded may have gone.

There was nothing. The Iron Warrior wanted to punch the computer through the wall in frustration, but had enough sense not too. A strange wave of exhaustion washed over him, a feeling he had rarely felt unless he had not slept in weeks. He was sure he had slept recently.

Alcyon looked at Amelia’s bed, a place he had shared with her plenty of times. It looked comfortable. It smelled like her. He laid down on her bed, falling asleep while breathing in her scent.

[shiyorin]

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.

[kit-williams]

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."

[littledarknesgold]

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)

[kit-williams]

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