#yandere space marine

[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.

[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.

[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:

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.”

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝖁𝖎𝖙𝖆 𝕸𝖊𝖆

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Trying different POV's.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉/𝕴𝖓𝖘𝖕𝖎𝖗𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, Barn Anon, @egrets-not-regrets.

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: Be 𝐑𝐞𝐬𝐩𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐢𝐛𝐥𝐞 for/of yourself. Even it’s just a tiny cut. I also don’t ᴄᴏɴᴅᴏɴᴇ these 𝙰𝚌𝚝𝚒𝚘𝚗𝚜.

TW // Slight SMUT/NSFW? Yandere Themes, Two Google Translation.

Amadeus was not one to have an interest in having a human like his brethren, but that didn’t mean he didn’t crave for such a bond. Sometimes he loathed it because it hurt… To see that he’ll just be isolated for the rest of his aging, immortal life. Something he could have related to the Alpha Legion for as he also feels remorse for them.

He knows they cannot bond, and that's something he also takes into consideration. Is that he could possibly bond while they, unfortunately could not. Yet, never once, while he lived, did a bond manifest from his years of wandering. Not a single bond.

He huffed out at that word, “bond.” Silencing the annoying crickets of the night. Oh, he was tired of hearing it. Tired of just seeing everyone else around him cooing at their own bonded. If he could, his own eyes would burn out of his skull like acid had been injected in them just to avoid seeing their merriment. Why couldn’t he have a bond too? What made his brethren more acceptable to one? Was he not exceptional for one?

He was much older than his brethren, and they teased him about it, and it irritated him to no end. Saying things along the lines of “Sugar Daddy.” Earring a thunk to their chestplate. Amadeus wasn’t that old to not understand the underlying tone of the tease, but he was just a little uncultured to what it exactly meant. Something he’s been meaning to research on.

Though, perhaps that was the issue? That, the older you are the least likely you are to bond? It was never mentioned before, but it didn’t mean it won’t happen or never will, and that thought soured his mood.

He knows he might not be… beneficial in age, but it also didn’t mean he didn’t know how to tear someone's skull from their spine, or put a youngling in their rightful place. Even going out to hunt, and guard. He is an experienced veteran after all, an immortal at that. What else is he to do besides fight battle’s?

Oh, by the throne, he was longing for a bond wasn’t he? He was already thinking of ways to provide for his future bonded, and it honestly wasn’t his first time thinking about it. He wanted a bond, and it ate him alive that he didn’t get to have one. It ate him alive that he was to continue his battles, and not get anything out of it, but he knew that he wanted more than just a bond.

The thought of doing something more to his bonded made him shiver.

Sure, he was an older Astares that had experience in the acts of intercourse, but it never felt pleasing to him. It felt inappropriate, blasphemous even to do such acts without his true bonded. So impure that he would feed off his recent bed partner to their death. It was a reason why most did not choose a Blood Angel as a companion.

Amadeus didn't, however, bed with another after his third time. To… aggravated with the thought that it wasn’t his bonded that he wasn’t giving his seed to. It was wasteful, and sinful to him. Why waste his seed on someone whose just there to satisfy? To someone that doesn't care about him either. Not only that, but he also wanted to prove to his future bonded of how well he could be. How well his perseverance is. How strong his will is to evade such temptations, just for them.

Oh, how he would imagine their little form withering beneath him. Mewling up at him because it was all too much for them. Their hands desperately trying to find something to grip on. Their walls clenching around him, gripping at him, pulling him right back in to give them what they cried out for. The moaning of his name, and only his name falling from their lips. Begging him to fill them up.

Throne, their scent too. He could just imagine stuffing his head into their neck. Inhaling their comforting scent. Nipping at their soft flesh there. Claiming, and drawing their sweet blood onto his lips for him to savor again, and again on until they were just weak enough to depend on his safety.

Then, Amadeus stopped walking. His body realizing something his dreaming mind couldn't until it hit him like a dreadnought. He could smell them. He can hear them. They were here.

He didn't hesitate to dash forward through the night. He's been waiting too long for this moment. Too long without a bonded. Too long fantasizing the little blurred events in his head. He was not about to lose his opportunity now.

He stopped just before a tree-line. Spotting a group of human's up ahead. His instincts going crazy in order to figure out who was his bonded within the group. Using every single of his senses to pinpoint them out. His eyes settling on the female in the center and he knew that was his bonded.

He observed the group for a second more. Trying to decide if he should go in there and scare them away, or be at ease with them. His urge ever growing where he stood until he watched one of the group members pull at her making his blood boil as she turned quickly to face her offender. This wasn’t a friend group.

Coming forth from the tree-line he made sure to go light in his armor. He wanted to surprise the group. He wanted them to scatter. He wanted to watch them squirm in his beneath his gauntlet while he crushed their windpipe, and watch those eyes become dim, and lifeless. He wanted to stain, and drench the parking lot with their blood, and watch it trail down into a drain. He wanted to prove just how much he could provide right then and there to her.

Oh, but that would scare his little bonded, his viaţă wouldn’t it? He has heard, and seen that human’s were fickle little things. Some liked it, others did not. He didn’t want to get reported by her of all things.

So, he pushed his way through the circle. Almost stepping on somebody if they didn’t move away quickly enough. His gauntlet settling lightly on her shoulder.

He stared down into her eyes that looked up to him with such confusion, and wonder. Her pulse quickening underneath his sudden touch. Yet, he couldn’t bring himself to look away, nor pull his gauntlet away. She was finally in front of him. By his side.

He didn’t even bother to listen to the group as they took their hesitant leave. He was basking in her presence. In her long awaited appearance, and it made him giddy for his age. Does she know he has waited a millennia for her?

He internally scoffed at his obliviousness. Of course she doesn’t. She looked to be a young adult by human years. She wasn’t even born when he was around. Which is probably something he was thankful of. Not that he couldn’t provide for her then.

He felt her slowly pull away from him. Unsure if he would do anything to her as a soft ‘thank you’ left her lips while she went off into a direction that would no doubt be her home. His visor trailing after her before he realized he was just standing there like an youngling.

Oh, vita mea. For I have finally found you.

[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]

[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."

[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]

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."

[remembrancer-of-heresy]

Sweet pleasures (Part 2)

Summary: You accidentally capture the attention of Lucius the Eternal while your world dies under the oppression of heretics

Lucius The Eternal/fem!Reader

Warnings: yandere, obsession, kidnapping, noncon

Word count: 1941

Author's note: I finally pulled myself together and wrote a sequel. Just before publishing, I reread Part 1 and must admit that I write better with each post. It makes me happy. Although this is my least favorite work. I will write more about Lucius (I adore him). But there will be no part 3 to this story.

Song: The Sisters of Mercy - More

In his long life, he had seen many creatures of the warp. Disgusting and seductive, communicating pleasure and agony. There were mutants, too, but almost all could be placed according to a certain characteristic. One of the brothers once told him that he was raising such cattle for his table. Fabius even became a gene father for his “children”.

Yes, Lucius had seen a lot. But you were a breath of fresh air. He had never encountered mutants capable of charming mere mortals before. As Cesare noted, your pheromones work especially well when you feel fear. A kind of protection from predators.

Of course, the space marine was thinking about turning you into a substance. Turning you into a potent drug in your dying peak of agony and pleasure was a tempting idea. But it was pointless. You were already in your original form.

It was a stroke of luck that Cohors Nasicae and the other gangs had headed to your wretched planet. Lucius was frankly bored with the entertainment that came with the battles. But even the fights themselves were predictable and terribly empty.

However, your scent, intoxicating and seductive, filled the man from the fear he caused. Reminded him of a desire he had not often resorted to despite the mercy of Slaanesh... so why not indulge himself? He is the best swordsman in the entire Galaxy. Of course, such a valuable exhibit as you should go to him. Besides, he deserved it. In a way, Lucius could even consider himself your savior.

You were frankly lucky, but eventually the Inquisition had to get on your trail. And given the reaction you caused in those around you, they would clearly regard you as seduced by a daemonette. Even if it was not true. At least until now.

The Space Marine had many trophies. Be it painted pictures or the entrails of his enemies. Lucius collected everything that seemed interesting to him, turning the chambers into a dump. This wretched planet will quickly fade from the man's memory, you are unlikely to pass for a trophy. On the other hand, he never had a pet. Lucius is sure that you do not even need to be trained. You will be an obedient girl.

***

You dreamed of finding yourself in the saving darkness again, but alas, it was only a delay of the inevitable. To die under the rubble or from the sword of blessing. Many were unlucky and their bodies and souls were mocked for a long time. And yet, all the unfortunate eventually gave up the ghost. All who participated in the ritual who served the new masters for a short time. All.

Except you. And that was the most terrible thing. When half-dead slaves, stinking of fear and pain, brought you to reality, you were ready to kill them. And later you were ready to beg them to save you from your gloomy future. But all you did was quietly cry.

You would have laughed at the name of the ship if you had not been so morally exhausted. Diadem. Such an elegant name, more suitable for the crew of a spoiled and naive aristocrat. Once you pretended to be exactly like that to get to the ball. Although now you wonder if they really believed you. Or were they so enchanted by you that they decided to turn a blind eye.

It was probably the latter. You were beginning to doubt your talents. You had nothing to offer the Imperium but your charm. But you never will. The slaves made it clear to you that you had only one task now. To entertain Lucius the Eternal. The flawless and shining blade of the Emperor's Children. The greatest champion of Slaanesh.

It is such an honor, they said. Despite all the desire to fall into hysterics and spit on the slaves, you felt pity. These creatures are but a shell of what were once a humans. Now they are only convenient tools and pleasant flesh to cut and eat. Filled with nothing but feelings and desires, rejected by the God-Emperor.

And you will soon be one of them. You will drag out your miserable existence far from the light. You will forget your home and will begin to perceive this ship as an extension of yourself. Stained with blood and secretions, mangled and executed in the most wretched form. The Diadem was only a parody of beauty.

And although the slaves, furiously washing you, said that a different fate awaited you, you could not believe in the best. Maybe you will not blend into the crowd. Maybe you will have a better position. But for traitors, you are nothing more than a tasty piece of meat. Which should serve for a very long time.

Perhaps an eternity, given the nickname of your master.

Your small washed body in silks looks alien in this place. You were like a feather or a breath of wind. Inconspicuous. Insignificant. While bright colors and many trophies screamed about luxury and depravity. They were much more suitable for their disgusting master, who deigned to return to his own chambers.

At the sight of you, waiting for him, a carnivorous smile paints the man's face. So wide that some of the small scars open up, staining the pale skin red with blood. You feel sick just from the sight of it, but the worst thing is when the monster starts talking.

“You stink, you know that?” - the man runs his tongue over his lips, slowly removing the armor. The parts filled with human faces slide off his body on their own. - “Sickeningly sweet and sour. An incredible range of emotions. You would make an excellent perfume, sugar.”

You can no longer restrain yourself and begin to cry loudly. Only a scream leaves your lips. No matter how much you want to, you cannot speak, you cannot force yourself to beg. Even knowing your inevitable fate, you desperately cling to a non-existent hope.

“Well, well, my dear. I haven’t even had time to do anything, and you’re already spoiling me.” - the man moans, clutching his sides, sucking in air like a starving man. And yet his face twitches, either from discontent or from thoughtfulness. - “But fear alone is not enough.”

A completely naked, grotesquely pale and fleshy man approaches the wall before pulling out a sleek, thin sword. Lucius runs it over his tongue, cutting through the soft flesh. You cringe at the sight, glad that your stomach and bladder have emptied while you were being prepared. At least that way you won't embarrass yourself.

You don't even have time to breathe before the metal lightly touches your hand. Looking down, you see a thin, surgically precise cut. As the blood begins to show, you realize reality. And with it, pain.

Another swing and another scratch appears on your palm. A scream echoes through the room. It takes you a moment to realize that it's coming from your throat. A groan echoes above your ear. The man almost purrs, sinking down onto the bed next to you. His sword smoothly traces your side before cutting through the flesh. The process is much slower this time. And more painful. You burst into tears even more.

“Believe me, I don’t want to hurt you at all. I’ll force myself to.” - Lucius kisses your cheek softly before nuzzling your neck. - “I would have been less merciful with other slaves. Still, I had to know what you smell like when you’re in pain.”

A rough tongue gently traces a line from your shoulder to your cheek, leaving a bloody trail. Before invading your mouth. The Space Marine throws away his sword and you could breathe a sigh of relief if you had anything to breathe with.

Now with both free hands, the man touches you, greedily digging his fingers into your flesh, leaving bruises. For a second, you think that a little more and you will suffocate. But Lucius breaks away from your lips with a loud pop and you just can’t help but start gulping for air as if it will be taken away from you again.

“And this,” the man leans towards you, his velvety voice gently touching your ears. - “Absolutely amazing.”

You sob, tired of screaming and crying, while someone else’s hands begin to tear your clothes. “One day you will learn to enjoy pain, sugar. In the meantime, let me get it for you in a different way.”

“N-no.”

“Yes. You will like it, just relax.” - the man presses his right hand to your legs. Or what is left of it. The red tentacles are already quite wet on their own, and therefore easily pass inside you. You squeak, trying to move away, but someone else’s hand does not allow you to do this, pressing the narcotic drink to your mouth, which you are forced to swallow. - “I will take care of it.”

The madness of the flesh captured you. And if at first you resisted, then soon you gave in to the overwhelming feeling of pleasure. And yet, the worm of shame crept up in your stomach, not allowing you to let go of the pieces of your mind so easily. Especially when, under the veil of fog, you heard about how perfect you were. But you, broken and shattered, could not agree with it.

***

Eternity is a flexible concept. In the end, everything can become boring at any moment. And unprecedented suffering, which used to cause pain, could instantly turn into pleasure. Or at least you could get used to it.

This was your option. Your only release. The only salvation. Let the master enjoy your body, get drunk on drugs to make it easier. Get used to these chambers. Get used to the fact that the Diadem is your new home. Forever.

You get tired of looking in one corner and turn over on the bed, finding a familiar face. You can get used to all the horrors and inhumanity, but perhaps you will never be able to get used to the sleeping Lucius. At this moment, his face calms down and it is as if he turns into another person. Into the previous version of himself, forever lost and rejected by him.

He has always been a braggart. And he has always improved himself in the art of war. This was his identity, and it was this that began his corruption. But he once believed in the Imperium. Once he fought for humanity, not for the Dark Gods. You did not know that Lucius and you will never know.

And you did not want to.

Your broken part defeats you and you cling to his chest. In all the time you were on Diadem, he gave you so much. You could taste every part of the Imperium. From clothes and food to base entertainment.

You did not need to lie and get all this from different people. Only Lucius could give you everything. He asked for little. Yes, everything worked out well. You wanted to see the Imperium. And you saw it. And even more. You could have any pleasure you wanted. Except maybe freedom.

You gently wrap yourself around the man, putting into this gesture all the love that remained in your heart. Not noticing how the devil's eyes watch your slow decay. How in the depths of the doomed soul, sadness and shame, seemingly lost long ago, appear.

But being a slave to pleasure, he also cannot let these feelings go free. You two, like all slaves of Chaos, can only continue your torment, calling it happiness and blessing.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Dandelions and Yarrow (1)

Dandelions and yarrow are both tough, hardy weeds that can grow under harsh conditions.

Alcyon (chaos Iron Warrior) makes the mistake of nearly breaking his bond with Amelia, his bonded human.

Author’s Note: TW: smut, noncon, dubcon, angst. This chapter is all hurt, no comfort. You are warned.

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

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

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

The meaning of 'heartbreak’ had been all but foreign to him before, but now he understood what it meant as soon as he saw the shattered look in Amelia’s eyes directed at him. Alcyon knew that she had received the news about being banned from her son’s school. 

“Alcyon! Why did you do it? Why did you have to fight him? I told you not to!” Amelia didn’t know where to even start with him on this anymore. The news broke her. Meeting Ben at his school before her ex came to pick him up was the only way she could see her son.    

Crossing his arms, the chaos Iron Warrior bristled and gave a disgruntled huff, “I could have killed the Black Templar. By right of challenge, I would have won your boy back for you had they not stopped me.”

“But they did stop you from killing him and now we both are banned from Ben’s school!” Amelia’s temper rose. 

“You shouldn’t have challenged him! I told you repeatedly to not do this and make the situation worse! It’s not that simple!” she added angrily. Amelia had never argued with Alcyon like this. She never wanted to argue with him like this, but she needed him to see, to understand how much his fight with the Black Templar cost her. 

“How is it not that simple? We could have simply taken your son at any point and you can have him back”

“Human laws don't make it simple!” Amelia nearly yelled at him out of frustration.

“I am bonded to you! In the eyes of human law, I am, to some degree, responsible for you too! What they see is MY chaos Astartes going out of control, starting a fight, and nearly killing a loyalist Astartes at my son’s school!” Her heart hurt, her head hurt, she didn’t want to continue. Why couldn’t her Astartes understand this? 

The chaos Iron Warrior replied, “You don’t control me.” 

“Of course I don’t, but that’s not how the human lawmakers see it.” Amelia breathed a vexed sigh trying to calm down. This argument was getting tiresome, she couldn’t remember the number of times they’ve talked about this. She knew her Astartes had done this on her behalf but she warned him time and time again not to, “I don’t even know why we’re still arguing about this. It’s too late for that now.” She grimaced. 

Amelia straightened out the order that she held crumpled in her fist, despairing as she read through the damning letter again. What was she to do now?

“We’ll have another chance to get your son back.”

His words locked around her chest tightly. She grit her teeth, trying hard not to cry from the whirlwind of emotions inside, “We won’t have another chance. Even if there was, you won’t be helping me.”

She could hear Alcyon’s quiet growl building, “What did you say?”

Amelia whirled on him, eyes blazing with fury and angry tears sliding unchecked down her face, “I said, ‘Even if I had another chance, I won’t be asking you for help!’”

The volume in her voice rose as she continued, “You lost my last chance to see Ben again, because you didn’t listen! How could I even trust you to not mess up next time?!” 

“Mess up?” Alcyon snapped at her, “Mess up?! I only took action because you kept crying about being stopped at every turn because of the laws and that damned family of his!”

“That’s exactly why we couldn’t meet them with violence! Because they are spiteful enough that they will throw the law at us and now they have the excuse of saying you are a danger to Ben due to your fight with his father’s Black Templar. Moreover, the law will always be biased against chaos Astartes and you are no exception! Why couldn’t you understand that?!”

Alcyon’s frustration grew the more Amelia said. It wasn’t his fault that the Black Templar and that family of hers kept her son away. He was the one who had supported her from the time she had accepted that he had bonded to her. And now she didn’t want his help because he made this one mistake? 

He sneered, “Don’t you dare blame me for that son of Dorn keeping your son away from you.”

“You are partially to blame! If you didn’t fight and nearly kill him, we wouldn’t be banned from the school! I wouldn't be in this mess!” she spat, too emotionally exhausted to keep her temper in check. 

“Then you shouldn’t have kept complaining about the inept human laws that you like to play with! At least I did something about it!” the Iron Warrior retorted.

Her anger boiled over, “I didn’t need you to do anything about it! I didn’t want you to do anything about it! Sometimes I wonder why I’m even bonded to you in the first place!” Amelia’s eyes widened and her expression turned pained, even she couldn’t believe the harsh words that came out of her mouth, “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean…”

Ignoring her stuttered apology, Alcyon snarled back at her, “I didn’t ask to be bonded to you. If I had a choice, I wouldn’t be bound to a simpering weakling like you!”

He knew that his words hurt. Judging by the agonized expression she wore, his words stabbed in all the right places. She didn’t want his help? He’s the one who’s taken action to get her son back! He’s the one who gave her the chance to visit her son again! How dare she be so ungrateful! Alcyon angrily ignored the voice in the back of his mind screaming at him to stop, that they won’t be able to walk back their words after this. So occupied by his resentment and anger, he couldn’t feel their bond slowly come apart, thread snapping by fragile thread.

Amelia felt her heart crack and regrets started to bleed from it. 

“I never asked for you to be bonded to me either. You could’ve left me alone, you should’ve stayed away!” She wiped her eyes angrily, “None of this would’ve happened if you hadn’t shown up in my life!”

Another thread snapped. 

“You’re the one who accepted our bond! You wanted it! Had you not, you’d still be that lonely little human woman yearning for a big Astartes save her and warm her bed at night, because her own husband wouldn’t bother to fuck her!” Alcyon resentfully pointed out. 

Amelia glared at him, speechless with anger and mortification. 

“I heard what they said about you… the whore who prefers the company of chaos demons rather than her own family.” He sneered. 

“I do not…!” She spluttered in embarrassment, “I am not a whore!”

The Iron Warrior looked infuriatingly smug despite the hurt, “That’s not what you moaned when I fucked you.”

A few more threads loosened. 

Feeling humiliated beyond tears, Amelia growled low, “Get. Out.” 

“No. This place is mine as much as it is yours.” He replied stubbornly. 

“Fine. Then I’ll go! I can’t deal with you right now.” Amelia knew this was going nowhere and immediately yielded. She started walking away only to be roughly yanked back into place, plastered against the wall. Her arm, held tightly in his claw. Amelia froze, not daring to struggle lest the metal claw cut into her flesh. 

“I’m not done with you!” Alcyon growled. A dark desire in him wanted to see her fight back so he would have reason to scorch her in return. 

A number of threads singed and sizzled as it burnt away.

“What else do you want from me? To be thanked?” Amelia asked, indignation and hurt seeping into her voice. 

She snapped, “Well thank you for losing the last chance I have to see my son again!”

“Don’t take that tone with me!” He roared back.

Amelia screamed when Alcyon’s heavy metal claw slammed into the wall a few inches from her cheek. Sharp metal tips dug deep into the plaster; a stark frightening reminder of how dangerous Alcyon actually was. The red lenses on the chaos marine’s face glowed with a malignant energy as he loomed over her.  

“Good. You should remember to be afraid.” Alcyon leered at her, a sense of dark satisfaction washing over him as he watched terrified tears run down Amelia’s face. 

Another few threads broke. 

“You act as if this one mistake of mine is a world ending tragedy and wipes away everything else I had done for you!” He hissed disdainfully. 

Not even giving her a chance to reply, Alcyon continued, “Everything I had done up until now had always been for you! Always!” Spite and anger built in his chest, “And you dismiss me like some misbehaving pet?!”

“I never treated you like that! If you feel like I treat you like some pet, take off your collar then! Leave me! I can’t stop you!” She spat back, “I won’t stop you!”

She was right. He knew he could leave. He knew she couldn’t stop him. What could Amelia even do? She was such a weak creature. But something stopped him, did he actually want to leave? 

“We already said we don’t want to be bonded to each other. Then we don’t need to stay in whatever this.. this… whatever this is then!” Amelia angrily cried. 

To break this bond tethering him to Amelia’s existence seemed completely abhorrent to him. Even if he didn’t have a choice in who he was bonded to, the thought of her not wanting to stay by his side made Alcyon’s chest feel tight. 

“I can’t believe I loved you.” She said hoarsely, sorrow cracking through her voice, “I thought…”

Several more threads from the bond snapped.

His hearts shouldn’t have clenched like that when he heard her say it. The Iron Warrior dismissed the feeling with a scoff, “You’re delusional. There was never love. We are bonded. You are simply just mine.”

She glared at him through her tears, “We may be bonded, but I am not yours.”

That sentence echoed in his ear. 

More strands broke. 

“You don’t mean that.” Alcyon hissed through gritted teeth. The defiance in her words made something twist and shear inside. How dare she say that. She was his. She was his. Amelia was bonded to him and him only. She was his! That thought ran rampant in his mind.

“You don’t mean that.” The chaos marine suddenly pinned his human to the table, one hand trapping her wrists above her head, his teeth caressing her throat. Amelia cried out from the impact, her body spasmed in pain. 

“Tell me you don’t mean that.” He growled. Amelia idly wondered if Alcyon would tear her throat out if she told him otherwise. 

More threads strained and snapped. 

“Say it!” He snarled and bit down hard. 

Amelia mewled, her body instinctively reacting by arching into his. Instinctively wanting more. Her skin prickled at their heightened sensitivity. A weak moan escaped her as he sucked on the tender mark. 

“Tell me, Amelia. Tell me, you are mine. Your body certainly knows it.” She could feel him smirk against her flushed skin. She tried to bite back another whine at the heat and pressure of his body pressed flush to her own, her hips pushing back when he started rolling his hips against hers. It always started like this… she thought as her mind started to fog. 

Appalled at her own reaction, Amelia panicked. She twisted her hips away, bringing a knee up to push his body off her. Her arms strained to free themselves from the tight clasp of his hand.

She started screaming, “NO! Get off— mmngh!” He silenced her with a rough kiss, his tongue wrestling down her own. A frustrating rage in him grew at her defiance. She kept denying that she belonged to him. She was his as he was hers. They were bonded. He won’t allow her to deny the fact any longer. He’ll remind her who she is bonded to. 

“No.” The chaos marine sneered, his grip holding Amelia’s wrists together tightened, his claw grabbed her leg, easily moving it back to the side of his hips, forcing her to lay on her back facing him once more. She winced in discomfort. 

“Your words deny it, but your body and soul remembers. I will make you remember!” He angrily growled into her mouth, the vibration from it causing another unwanted arc of pleasure to course through her body. In one quick movement, Alcyon’s metal claw effortlessly shreds through her clothing. The torn clothes fell apart, leaving behind thin bleeding welts where his claw swiped against her bare torso. 

More threads were sliced from the bond. 

Amelia's eyes widened with fear as she started to struggle in earnest, “No! Alcyon! Let me g-!” His mouth was on hers again in an instant, cutting off her protests. She tried to turn her head away. He bit hard onto her bottom lip, warning her to be still. She whined in response before he promptly stole her breath again. 

“Stop, Alcyon! Please sto-!” Amelia begged as soon as their mouths parted. 

She could see every scar in detail around the lens implant as they stayed nose to nose, “Even if you deny it, you know that you’re mine.” Alcyon harshly whispered, “You will always be mine.”

He grabbed her hair and pulled her head to one side before biting down hard onto an old mark, drawing blood. Amelia keened wordlessly, tears leaking from her eyes as the pain added to the heated pleasure within her own traitorous body. She knew that this was a natural reaction, but she couldn’t help but wish that her body didn’t betray her like this. 

With a pleased growl, the chaos Iron Warrior licked the blood from the wound then kissed her. An unbidden moan left her throat as the bitter iron salt of her blood passed between their tongues. 

“Your body is more honest isn’t it?” Alcyon laughs sardonically against her lips. He could smell his human’s arousal right when he pinned her under him, the heady scent getting stronger as he continued to mark her. His teeth nipped and worried her sensitive skin down toward her breast, soaking in all her involuntary gasps and twitching muscles as he laid his claim onto her flesh. 

Amelia flushed with shame and regret. She wished she had never had slept with Alcyon, if only so that he would not know her body as well as he did. She regretted that she allowed her relationship with the Iron Warrior to become this intimate. She regretted that she had fallen in love with him. 

More threads dissolved. 

He bit down hard onto her breast, his sharp teeth sinking into the soft tissue. Amelia bit her lip to stop another whine from escaping, her hands stiffened into claws as Alcyon’s tongue licked up the blood that had beaded up from the wound.  

He gave the same treatment to her other breast, further sucking and teething her nipple into a hard peak. 

“No..! Alcy— ohhhn!” Her throat was tight as she let out a strangled moan, her pussy clenching around nothing. Amelia flattened her back against the table and tried to curl into herself, trying to shirk away from his touch. The chaos marine let out a feral, displeased growl. He grabbed her thighs and slotted her roughly against him, forcing her legs to spread wide to accommodate for the width of his muscled bulk. His metal claw dug into her back, the pain forcing Amelia to arch her spine, pushing more of her breast into his mouth; her breath shuddering and her hips thrusting involuntarily, rubbing her aching core against his pelvis as he sucked and nipped bruises onto her sensitive flesh. 

“No more… please Alcyon.” Amelia begged.  Shame filled her being as she could feel her cunt becoming slick with her juices. 

Alcyon ignored her pleas and groaned at the scent of her deepened arousal mixed with the iron in her blood, his own cock hardening within his pants from rutting against her hot wet core. He could feel the twitches of her muscles and hear her near silent moans and involuntary gasps as Amelia tried desperately to stop reacting to his touch. He will make her fall. He will make her remember. 

This time he will leave his marks so others could see who she belonged to. Alcyon bit her neck again, sinking his teeth just below her jawline. 

Her shame and regret flashed into anger. “Stop it!!!” She snarled, whipping up a freed hand to strike his face. 

Alcyon caught her hand and roughly forced it onto the table again, “Say it, Amelia. Say that you are mine.” He demanded, his eye darkened with feral lust and possessiveness heavy in his voice. 

She was beautiful, pinned helplessly below him, glaring at him with rage simmering under the surface. He could see Amelia’s heightened pulse flutter underneath her fragile skin. Bruises forming where he marked over and blood beading out from marks that broke skin. Her breasts heaved as she struggled to steady her breathing.

Amelia bared her teeth at him in anger and contempt, “Leave me alone! I can’t stand the sight of you! I hate you.”

He felt it then. It was as if someone reached into his chest and grabbed a bundle of threads that made up the core of his bond and brutally ripped them out. Sharp agonizing pain stabbed into his hearts as each thread snapped and broke, as if they were once attached to them. Alcyon stared at her, reeling from the sudden shock of pain. Amelia took the chance to slip out from under him and ran into the bedroom, locking the door behind her. 

The chaos warrior shook himself out of it, that shock of pain quickly settling to a dull ache as resentment soon took over. Alcyon turned to follow his human when the shine of the intricate metal fish on the table caught his attention. It was a gift he made for Amelia that she treasured. Eyeing the fish figurine with spiteful hostility, he crushed it in his hand and flung it against the wall, shattering it into pieces. 

Amelia’s sobs were quiet and muffled, but even they couldn’t escape from his keen hearing. Every cell in his body was compelling him to respond to his bonded human’s sorrowful cries; to comfort her, to apologize, to rebuild the threads of the bond that’s been broken. Alcyon ground his teeth hard, fighting against the compulsion. The Iron Warrior ignored it all and stormed out of their home, slamming the door so hard it nearly took the door off its hinges. 

Alcyon was long gone by the time Amelia crept out from the bedroom. Teary-eyed, but fully dressed again, Amelia cautiously made her way back to the living room, still wary that the chaos warrior was still lurking somewhere in their home. More and more cracks formed in her heart as she looked at the evidence of their fight: the gouge marks in the wall, the scratch marks, the torn strips of her clothes that laid on the table. She whimpered and hissed when her own body reminded her of Alcyon’s cuts and bite marks on her. But that hurt couldn’t compare to heart wrenching pain when she found the shattered remnants of her beloved fish figurine. 

Amelia remembered Alcyon had made it for her: a beautiful and surprisingly intricate piece of art that came from his rough and metal hands. She loved it so much. It reminded her of her son’s favourite creatures… and what she mistakenly thought was Alcyon’s love for her. Tears started to roll down her cheeks again as she painstakingly picked up the remains, piece by shattered piece.  

A particularly sharp fragment of the fish sliced into her finger, the sudden shock of pain causing her already shaky hand to drop the pieces she just collected. Sliding down the wall, her hand fisted around the pieces that didn’t fall, Amelia curled into herself in anguish. Letting out a grief-stricken wail, she wept bitterly. 

[bleedingichorhearts]

literally your tiny astarted series https://www.tumblr.com/yourlocalmemepriest/745804071088357376/meme-archive-belongs-to-the-adeptus-memeticus?source=share

Literally!😭 They cute, but feisty little things! Might explode upon touching too…

Though, I can’t help, but think if that one should continue or not. I have ideas for it, just never really put it in order. Maybe I can a do a remake of it? Put little bit more oomph in it. I have the power to do so.

Keep in mind, these little guys won’t stay smol’ for long. A lil’ turd out there is messing around. It is under the “Space Marine Husbandry Sentience” tag for a reason.

“Miniature Marines, Miniature Marines II” Link. There is only two of them.

[egrets-not-regrets]

Hot damn, void!!

@kit-williams

Rating: M

Warnings: Bro rubs one out. In the shower no less.

I adore this metaphorical (and in this case literal) wet beast. Thank you for letting me write this I hope I did his justice.

Hot water poured over Tulio's back as he leaned into the back wall of his shower stall. His forehead pressed to his forearm, which in turn was pressed against the wall.

He choked down a little groan of delight as his hand eagerly worked his length. His eyes were shut tight, blocking out any visual distractions as he brought the image of his beloved to mind. The curves of her form, even fully clothed, drove him wild with need. But he could never bring himself to force that need on her. He loved her too much. She was everything to him.

His panting grew steadily as he breathed in lungfulls of steamy air. The frustration of being alone in the shower instead of with her was killing him.

He bit his cheek and silently chided himself. He was an Astartes, not some hormonal teen boy.

Still, his longing to feel his darling's naked skin against his was driving him mad with need.

He moaned her name into the sounds of the shower. Quiet and desperate, as if speaking her name would summon her forth for him.

He knew he could demand her presence, and she would he brought to him. But he needed her to come willingly to come to him with desire in her eyes and need in every breath.

"She will." He assured himself, "Soon she will be mine, fully and completely." His hand picked up speed as he worked himself closer to completion. Lamenting somewhere in the back of his thoughts that this load would be wasted when it would be much better spent in her. Where it could sow life and make her his even more thoroughly.

Tulio bit his lip as he began to spill his seed onto the floor of the shower stall. It's pale off white thickness mixing with the water and washing down the drain.

He stayed there a minute longer, just panting and thinking. He should bring her with him into his chambers tonight. He could read to her from that book of poems she liked.

Reaching for the water, he shut it off. Yes, that would be how he showed his love for her tonight. And soon, he turned to watch the last of his seed slither down into the piping. Indeed, very soon, he would show her all the other ways he loved her.

[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.