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[wxnheart]

Amāre Divinitatus: "...His love endures forever."

He never worshipped for worship's sake.

There was always a reason, conviction at the forefront of his mind, and his many treatises, reverence made material, paled compared to the visions of splendor that blessed his mind.

Those visions of splendor... the many wonders of you...

Beautiful.

His worship, once of the Father, had shifted. His words, reverence made material, rejoiced in honor of these dreams. The love that filled his heart in the aftermath was all-consuming, powerful, and he wished, oh did he wish...

Ecstacy. His body hummed with it.

He did not know exactly when and did not know exactly where, but he knew his meeting with you was imminent. And as he prepared, so, too, did he worship. So, too, were his treatises filled with your praises, and he supposes a love like this would last forever.

When your paths finally crossed, those marvelous dreams did you no justice. You were divine, heaven-sent, and it brought him to his knees in supplication. He took your hands in his, bowed his head gracefully, and kissed them adoringly, agony and ecstasy piercing his heart.

He never worshipped for worship's sake, and here he was, entranced by the many wonders of you.

And his love would endure forever.

— Lorgar Aurelian.

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Domestic Radahn headcanons! How he is with his partner! What he does in his personal downtime! ANYTHING! 😳🫣

Starscourge Radahn, Domestic Headcanons:

Despite his immense popularity, Radahn is very selective about his inner circle and doubly so about his potential consort.

He is not one for dalliances. His relationship is meant for the long haul. To Radahn, marriage isn't a suggestion, it's an expectation.

Once Radahn finds his other half, however, he's absolutely obsessed with them.

Is the demigod who is almost always under his consort. If Radahn doesn't have other obligations to attend to, you two are inseparable.

He's very much a scholar at heart, too. It's not out of the ordinary to find you two in the personal study or library together, you busy with your devices and his nose in a scroll or book.

Of course, he also likes to keep you occupied in... other places, too. 👀

He's incredibly protective of you, too. Rennala and his siblings were the first to meet you. It was some time before you met the rest of the demigods. You can count on one hand the amount of times you've even stepped foot on Leyndell.

A hopeless romantic through and through. Once, when you two were watching the stars, he always told you to look to them whenever he's away because he'll be doing the same, looking to the sky and thinking of you.

Your first kiss happened under the stars as well.

He enlisted the help of the Redmanes to help propose marriage to you. Jerren officiated your wedding. It wasn't a large affair, just enough that all present could celebrate your love.

Your transition to married life with Radahn is pretty damn smooth (one of the smoothest among the demigods actually). Nothing really changes other than the titles you inherit and Radahn's increasing pride in the fact that he's your husband now.

An aside, but Radahn thinks you're cute when you're angry. You could be arguing your little head off and your giant of a husband is looking down, a serene smile on his face because he's absolutely besotted with his little firecracker consort. Has also kissed you mid-argument, too, because, again, you're so cute.

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"the thought of a blushing Konrad is more terrifying than his Batman Who Kills schtick."

Jokes on you, the "hung" Konrad ask you called wholesome and every soft Konrad thing I've said he was intended to be blushing.

He's so pale, you just know it shows up clearly. And I want the reader insert to tell him this to his fucking face.

Wait this blog stanned blushing Dorn. So blushing Dorn is cute but blushing Konrad is unnerving? LMFAO.

Okay, yeah. Write it all out.

Konrad and Dorn are like apples and oranges, though, and Konrad's level of unpredictability varies, so a blushing Konrad would throw me off more than The Batman Who Curzed. Doesn't mean it would objectively be unappealing.

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As horrifying as it is to think about Godwyn being aware in such a state, it’s also terribly fascinating and has that BB style of terrifying care. Do you think he can see through the Prince of Death talismans PC/Consort can pick up? Does it comfort him to have them hold even this broken, terrible fragment of himself? And do you think he cries if the PC/Consort leaves the Depths?

(Giving myself nightmares of how bad this could go, him roused to being “awake” with them going to leave, but you have me Hooked.)

Regarding the Talisman, that's rather wholesome in a terrifying way. What if he could? 👀

And if his consort were to leave, I can envision more Godwyns popping up throughout the Lands at an increasingly alarming rate. What if having the Talisman in his beloved's possession is what's making this happen more often?

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You know what I've been thinking about, Morgott or Mogh being challenged by a tarnished but after receiving a heavy blow their helmet falls to the floor revealing that they were someone that would sneak into the sewers centuries ago just to check if Mogh and Morgott were alright.

(apologies for the English, it isn't my main language)

— 🐀

Wait, this reminds me of the found family ask I got some time ago.

What if each of the twins carried a memento of their Tarnished caretaker?

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Feels like everyone on tumblr likes Konrad for the yandere horror stuff meanwhile I'm a sap desperately craving this mans relationship being one long hurt/comfort fic with a person who comforts and doms him with him also also displaying geniune care for them to show that it is not one sided, followed by loving sex with a blushing virgin Konrad.

Rip.

-🟩

Well, why don't you write it? Be the change you wish to see.

[wxnheart]

Now that you're back from your long hiatus/password loss there are two lines I've been wanting to ask for clarification on in your old writing.

In that Lorgar list where he looks down and sees his "shame made manifest" does he just have an erection or did he actually come?In that primarch hairdresser ask with Konrad "He refused to let you trim it. It actually needed to be cut" This might be a stupid question, but do trim and cut mean the same thing here? Like "he refused to let you cut it even though it needed to be cut" or "he refused to let you trim it a little bit like normal, but it was such a birds nest you had to cut large chunks out like a matted dog". And was it only sevatar who actually benifitted from this or did it help Konrad emotionaly a little bit too?

Tbh I think Konrads real fitting punishment for all he's done is going to be finding a loving home, but they have to brush out his hair in one setting….

-🟩

To answer your questions:

Whatever you think it is, it is.

Nope, trim and cut are two very different things.

[wxnheart]

I always was curious what Smasher be like if he found out his potential interest had a baby, not his obvs, but from an ex or whatever. How that might change his attraction to them

Even though Smasher ain’t kid friendly in the slightest, it wouldn’t really change his attraction. It takes some getting used to the kid, though.

Of course, said kid thinks Adam looks cool as shit and climbs all over him.

And Adam, surprisingly, sits there and lets it happen.

His head is not a fucking bongo to play on, though. Still, he lets it happen.

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Hi! Hope your doing well, Sorry if my question botters you but I recently read amaré divinitatus and im a little lost could you explain a little the fic? Is the same reader or in every part is a different one? It's ok if you ignore this :3

Hey and no, your question doesn't bother me at all. I'm happy to clarify.

Simply put, the premise of the Amāre Divinitatus AU is that the Emperor of Mankind had visions of and found his soulmate long before the Imperium's inception. When the Primarchs were created, this psychic phenomenon was something they inherited from their father.

And to answer your second question, it's a different reader in every part.

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Amāre Divinitatus: Iron Heart, Iron Hands.

These hands that have destroyed, forged, and destroyed again yearn for something else entirely.

They are a blessing and a curse, symbolic of his ruthlessness, the excitement of war simmering beneath his skin, and under normal circumstances, he would have gladly welcomed it.

You, however, are no such thing.

The metal coating his arms gurgles with the thrill of your defiance. You excite him in ways that past dissidents could not. You challenge him when others would not even dare, and if this were anyone else, he would have crushed them long ago.

But no... no... Not you.

It will never be you.

And so his hands, the architects of his success, hands that have destroyed, forged, and destroyed again yearn for the simplicity of holding and being held, of molding and enmeshment, of touching and being touched, the honor of carrying your iron heart, and brandishing the hammer of your defiance.

He had known long ago that something fated awaited him, had felt it even as he forged his homeworld into his own likeness, and as it stands bravely before him, the metal of his arms bubbling with excitement and thinly veiled wrath at your noncompliance, he wonders how it would feel to carry the weight of your heart in his hands.

He wonders how it would feel to mold the stoutness of it in his likeness.

— Ferrus Manus.

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Amāre Divinitatus: "To thine own self be true."

He cared little for dreams that could not be made reality.

Let insight be your guide. That is what his beloved grandfather taught him.

And so insight guided him to the stars, expanding and creating for the greater good, and those dreams, the many made reality, had shifted.

He envisioned a pair of figures, their shadows joined together under the resplendent light of the galaxy, and indefinite though it seemed, insight drove him to make it a reality. And so he continued to create and expand amongst the stars, the stalwart embodiment of his Father's will, an expectation he had of all under his command.

You had risen to the challenge without a moment's hesitation.

Struggle after struggle may have shaken your resolve but you were never truly broken. He greatly respected your tenacity, even if it sometimes veered into obstinacy, and over time he had come to rely on you in ways he didn't for his brothers and sons and that's when he knew.

And he let insight be his guide.

It was you two, your shift long since ended, lone figures observing the Imperium's latest conquest from the Phalanx. It was a planet once in disarray. You spoke with clarity and purpose and you were proud of your work. You were proud that the people would live to see a new day under the Emperor.

You turned to him, eyes bright with conviction, and it drew him even closer to you.

You could not have prepared yourself for what came next. Wordlessly, his towering frame bent down, and your words faded into the embrace of his kiss, firm and surprisingly gentle. It did not take long for you to return it, and every fiber of your being resonated with its rightness.

And two shadows became one under the galaxy's resplendent light. A dream made reality.

Insight.

It had not failed him yet.

— Rogal Dorn.

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Amāre Divinitatus: That which is good and receives favor.

He dreamt of you happily surrounded by texts, scrolls, and data-slates. He dreamt of you ensconced in blue and protected by his faithful sons. He dreamt of you wreathed in laurel, his crown glory.

He dreamt of you... and he was ten thousand years too early.

But still, he searched. Even as he fought and served and ruled, he searched for you, and at the end of his fruitless journey was death, disappointment, and despair.

And he fell just as Man did.

It is ten thousand years later and the yearning lingers still. The loneliness persists and he is an anomaly in a sea of gilded glory but still, he fights. He fights, he serves, he rules, and he searches. He never stopped searching. It is only by happenstance that he finds you one day in the Imperial Palace, happily surrounded by texts, scrolls, and data-slates, diligently recording Man's history past and present, and everything falls into place.

You look up from your work at him, surprise turning to curiosity to reverence, and yes, he supposes a laurel crown would suit you wonderfully. He smiles, more to himself than anything, and his journey, once fruitless, is over.

And after ten thousand years, Fate favors him still.

— Roboute Guilliman.

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Amāre Divinitatus: "...And the darkness comprehended it not."

Even with his foresight, there were things in this galaxy he found incomprehensible. You were one such thing and he did not know what to do with you.

You permeated his mind since he could remember. You were open and inscrutable. You were entrancing and revolting, all things dark, full of potential, and doom-driven. All things him.

He laughs hollowly at the irony of it all.

He never makes his presence known to you but still, he watches and observes. He sees what could be, laments at what should be, delights in what is, and treading through the vast sea of bloodshed, corruption, and filth left in his wake pales in comparison to the many wonders of you.

And he falls deeper into his madness.

He watches you from the dark, stalks you like prey amidst the bloodshed, and bides his time. For his sake or yours, it doesn't matter anymore.

But vengeance will be mine.

— Konrad Curze.

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𝓚.

[wxnheart]

Amāre Divinitatus: "And the light shineth in darkness..."

He, too, dreamt of you. He, the crown jewel of his Father's virtue.

It was a dream sundered by doom and covered in blood; of his or yours he could not tell. And yet, he found solace in it all.

He held the visions and yearning at bay and no matter how tempted he was to give in, he could not. Not for Man's sake and certainly not for yours, and how the shame tore him in two. That yearning, one he sensed so strongly within his sons, grew stronger with each passing day.

And when he saw you at last, he could contain it no longer.

You were unaware of Fate's pull and too caught up in the throes of war to realize what had befallen you. You came to in the embrace of majestic gold and blinding white, the softness of his hair brushing against your grime-covered face.

He held your wounded hand in his own. He brought it to his lips, savored the metallic scent and, licked.

Baptism by blood.

The joy it brought him was immense. He knew then to cherish the little time he had left with you and then... and then...

When he died, it was with your name on his lips, imprinted in his mind.

When he died, his beloved sons were blessed with fated love.

— Sanguinius.

[wxnheart]

Are you still accepting requests for our favorite psychopathic, oversized battlebot, Smasher?

Sure. What's on your mind?

[wxnheart]

Hello there! 🧡 I've been following your work, admiring from afar, for a long time and finally got the courage to write to you myself! However, before sending the request itself, I wanted to clarify, are you in the spirit of writing something about Bloodborne right now?

Hello, hello. ❤️

I've got a Bloodborne request sitting in my asks right now so sure, what's your fancy?