#pertuarbo x reader

[nightscythe]

primarchs and their unbalanced love

adapted this request slightly so it wasn't just a sentence and focused more on them. if this didn't meet what you wanted anon, please let me know!

pre-heresy, tw on curze/alpharius for yandere like behaviour // your relationship with the primarch would always be unbalanced because you're just a human. you reach your breaking point and end things.

lion: you’d noticed the looks, sat quietly as another questioned why you were there and the lion chose to glare rather than defend you, seeing it pointless to explain – it had been luther who told you to run far away and never look back, promising that staying within reach of the primarch would never end well for you. he’s stood upon the allure of the fortress, staring down at the people who praised him. loved him, even, seeing the primarch as a saviour to all they knew. though he was never blind to the criticism of the people when it came to him, especially when it’s voiced so clearly to him. he scans the crowd, slowly, taking every face in until he finds you; watching him already, expression numbed, eyes dull, the hint of your soul already faded. he recalls the last words you said to him as your hands clasped gently over his, the universe was not made for our two souls to be together. he’d grabbed your wrist, tried to stop you from walking away from him, but he never got the chance to tell you. then i will strip the universe bare until it allows us to be. instead you saw anger, rage, a vengeance you knew he was capable of, but he never allowed you to see before. his final words were a promise, leave now, before i remind you why the universe wouldn’t allow us to be together. this was his punishment, your eyes finding his whenever he left the four walls he knew you could never enter, a constant reminder of what he never had.

fulgrim: you’d ignored it at first, what some people were willing to do for the primarch, how they’d have killed for him, to be with him, or even just to hear his voice in person – and one person can only overhear so many discussions on how people plan to kill them before they decide a change is needed, even if it hurts more than anything. the seat at the head of his table felt shameful. all eyes on him, wanting, requiring more from him than he was willing to give. he hadn’t looked up from the embroidered and lace-trimmed placemat that his fingers played with in minutes, avoiding the conversation around him. there weren’t many things that could bring him to silence, let alone people. yet you had managed that. likewise, you’d managed to do the impossible and capture the heart of a man made to never have feelings. when he finally looks up from the placemat, eyes darker than before, the room falls to a sharp silence. the only person he can find the strength to look at is you. across the room from him, dressed in the colours he told you looked perfect, though every other part of you was concealed from him. your eyes never leave the floor, even as the silence continues. of course i’m afraid, you had told him when he approached you, cowering from his larger frame. the image was burned into his mind, torturing him each hour. i would protect you from everything, he reassured you, there is not a thing on this earth that could harm you whilst i still live. he can still feel the way your hand slipped out of his as you turned your back to him. from your father? you had asked, voice hollow, from yourself? fulgrim never answered. the room eventually starts to speak again as fulgrim looks back down to the placemat. only then do you dare to look back at him. 

read more

perty: it was never that you didn’t trust him, but you knew he would never believe that – you’d learnt of what he had done to those who failed him, asked him one too many questions and seen the side of him that everyone had feared but you hadn’t yet seen. he believed he’d ensured that you were erased from every record related to him. believed he’d never see your face again, never hear your voice, embrace your smile, or enjoy your laughter filling the halls. weeks had passed without any part of your presence, and he believed he needed it, yet every step he took his soul felt lonelier than before. he’d thought he’d heard your voice a few times, chased the sound down empty hallways to find nothing but the ghosts of his memories. he believed today was no different when he heard your call from one of the rooms; one which sounded so real it stopped him in his tracks. he waited, listened, wanted to hear more – a wish which was fulfilled within seconds and has him tracking down the source. he almost stumbles through the doorway where the sound is loudest, catching himself on the stone frame but still garnering your attention. you don’t speak, not even as the woman opposite to you bows and offers her apologies. but the longer your gaze is locked, the more his nostrils flare, the tighter his jaw tenses. leave, he tells you, coldly, lest i remind you how quickly i can have you removed for good. you only nod, slowly, stepping back from him quietly and dragging your eyes down to the ground. he waits, watches, hears your voice tell him how you felt unsure of your place within these walls. when you look up to him one last time, he feels the snarl at the back of his throat. if you did not feel safe then, why would you feel safe now? he questions. why would you trust me now? 

khan: you’d watched men die, seen how expendable life was with your own eyes, and seen how quickly he had moved past it, leaving only one thought on your mind – that you must have been just as expendable as everyone else he stood over. the hardest part of all was accepting it. he sat with a handful of his sons around, none daring to look at their primarch who had scarcely looked beyond the spot right in front of him for the past two days. all he did was think. about this, about him, about you. it could never go beyond that though, he never was able to find peace in his own thoughts nor in the conversation with others. but you had come on your own volition, hearing of the primarch’s unusual silence amongst other gossip from the crowds, and when he saw you in front of him, slowly coming to rest on your knees, it was the first time he found the right words to say out loud. you’re wrong about everything, he says, not giving you a moment to speak. you nod, once, though you do not speak. he fills the space between you with more necessary words. i would not make a promise so lightly if i did not know it could be fulfilled. but i assure you, with everything i could offer, that your life will never be in danger so long as i live. your silence is excruciating, the throbbing in his body getting quicker and quicker as he waits for your answer. but it never seems to come. but if you cannot trust me that i will make true on my promise, then i shall not ask anymore of you, but to remember how deeply i cared for you.  

leman: he had tried his best to keep you separate, despite the loyalty his sons offered and how deep their bond went – but when you’d started to understand why he was called the executioner, why his legion was known to be so deadly, and when you discovered everything he had been responsible in the name of his father, you realised that you would never have been spared. his body ached. he’d thrown himself into any situation he could, begged that the all father would bless him with something that could knock him out cold and give him some breathing room for just a few moments. every single one of his thoughts was about the same thing. doubt. of himself, of his capabilities, of anything he had ever considered a strength. each time raised his weapon and bared his teeth, your words took over his mind. you will never be enough. his mind falls silent to what you had actually told him. you do not have it in you to stand up to your loyalties over a mere human. you could not betray everything you know, everything you stand for, just because they disagree with me, or do not want me, or think i am unworthy. he didn’t want you to be right about it. and as he stood there, broke another man’s bones without even thinking, he realised he still couldn’t argue against you. the thump of a body hitting the ground forces him to tear his sight back to reality, focus shifting from the cheers around him, to the man laying before him, to your eyes at the back of the room, never looking away. you would never be unworthy, he’d told you before, a sentiment still felt, i wouldn’t care what anyone said about you, it is only me who gets to decide if you are worthy to be at my side. you’d smiled softly then, just as you are now. only until someone tells you i can’t be. 

dorn: you had gotten used to all his quirks, you’d grown to love it over time, and it was nothing in particular that had pushed you to your limit other than time – when you looked at him one day, you allowed yourself to wonder for too long what it might look like if he stopped loving you, and there was no space at his side for you. it took him longer than usual to process your words. far too long, in fact, because by the time he’d looked up to you, you were already walking away, your bow in his direction and a mumbled apology lost within his conscious thoughts. he watches you walk away from him, only taking a few steps towards you when you near the end of the long room, but freezing immediately when you turn back to him, only looking over your shoulder. you should know that i will always love you, you tell him, sigh leaving your lips as you turn to face the exiting doors once more. you take a step, slower than before, and that’s when he decides to finally speak. i will try harder, he promises, moving towards you again, whatever you need from me, say the word, i will do it. because i… he stops, both his words and his movements. you turn back to him again, this time fully, lips gapped and eyes clouded. his jaw tenses for just a moment as he finds the words, knowing already that they weren’t enough. i would do anything for you, to consolidate the love i have for you. won’t you let me have that chance? you shake your head slowly; you’ve already told him it was out of his control. won’t you at least let me try? he asks again. it wouldn’t have mattered, even if you did. not many things in the world made him feel powerless, other than you. 

curze: there was always whispers of what he was capable of, always a forgotten story of what he had done before, and you’d still fallen into his charm with open arms – realising soon that the real enemy within was the legion he had also grown to hate, but that didn’t mean you were able to leave . the room was cold, dark. everything he loved to have, especially seeing as you’re sat on the floor in the corner, wide eyes watching him with your knees pulled into your chest. he can’t help the way a grin creeps back onto his face as he approaches. did you miss me? he asks, gently, stopping only a foot or so away from you. he crouches down to your level, reaching out a hand to trace over your own. he sighs, content as you don’t pull away from him this time. i thought of you every moment. i wondered if you were thinking of me too. he leans forward, face closer to yours, hand reaching for your chin when you try to look away. i made a promise to you, my little dove. do you recall? he waits, though never expects an answer. not when your lips are quivering, body shaking. he only smiles, reaching around to drape his cloak over you as if it was the cold causing your reaction. i promised you that i would make this work. that you would never need to leave me, that you did not need to fear for anyone near me any longer. and where are we now? another silence falls between you. one enjoyed, revered. you’re with me, and you’re safe from any harm. he’d chosen to ignore himself in that equation, though. 

sanguinius: despite his sweetness, how he touched you as though you were the softest feather, you knew what followed behind him – when you became a target as well and realised that your life was in danger unless you were always at his side, you knew it had reached its limit. it never mattered that he’d commanded armies, that he’d survived impossible feats, that he was beloved by the imperium and treasured by all as the great angel that was impossibly perfect in all ways. something inside of him had broken, snapped clean in two as the weight of every emotion fell to him at once, overwhelming him beyond anything else he had felt. don’t walk away, he called, halting your steps with the tone of his voice alone. you turned, slowly, faced by his figure that approached you far quicker that you could ever run. is my love not enough for you? do you desire more? every part of me is yours already, yet you still choose to leave me? his voice shakes, words falling rather than being spoken. he drops to his knees before you, never reaching for you, yet begging with eyes that were bloodshot and shattered. i could protect you from anything this universe has to offer, he affirms to you, hands clasped together, i would stand before anything in existence that posed you harm, but that is not enough. he feels the corners of his eyes prick with a feeling unknown, and only then does he reach for your hand and bring it to his cheek, his own hand placed over your own. tell me what more i must do to prove to you that this isn’t a mistake. 

ferrus: his obsession with perfection had sat with you for far too long – you were human, weak, easily killed and willed away, so you knew that one day he’d turn you into something he considered stronger, better, even if he didn’t realise what he was doing. he’d found himself alone far more often since you’d gone. sometimes when he reached for tools on his bench, he expected to feel you instead, sometimes he’d hear the door open and look expectedly as if you were the one walking through the door. though it never was you; not your hand reaching for his when he was trying to do something else, not your cheerful greeting as you approached him. your missed presence was something he understood, but with each day that passed he only wanted to isolate himself more from others too. it all reminded him of you. especially those words that tormented him the most. i am just another weakness that will need correcting. he slams down his hammer harder than before, the sound running your voice straight out of his head. he could have told you that you weren’t a weakness. he could have denied it entirely, but he knew it would be a lie. others could perceive you as such, others would look upon the human at their primarch’s side and wonder why. instead, all he told you was that he wouldn’t correct you, not when he saw nothing for him to change. he let you go, let you walk out of the last space where you felt any safety around him, without telling you what he truly felt. you were already perfect, he speaks to no one, unable to find the strength to continue his work, i never wanted to change a thing about you. though he knew at the bottom of his heart that he may have needed to. 

angron: his mind fracturing wasn’t something you had no awareness of, and you believed that somewhere along the way you had been able to help – but the time he had killed another in front of you was the turning point, even if you claimed it was the whole legion. he had seen the way you always approached corners with caution, how you kept your voice quiet, how seeing you when doors were locked from the outside world was entirely different to having you stand amongst a crowd of people who claimed their support for him. it was his naivety or arrogance that led to ignorance each time, opting to let it pass without issue or never ask what caused it. not until you’d told him, quiet with him for the first time since he knew you, avoiding eye contact and hiding yourself when he drew near, that it was all too much for you. it could never happen, he tells you, pleading as he approaches you, i would never allow a soul here to touch you, to even look at you without welcome. he didn’t understand it fully still, how you believed such harm could come from those around him. or perhaps he did now, and again it was ignorance in the way. what is worse is that you did not come to me about this before, that you waited until the very end to speak a word of your worries and gave me no time to fix them. he sighs, still intent on changing your mind, ready to wage a war in your name if he had to. as he approaches you, reaches his hand towards your shoulder, he notices the way you flinch away. his brows furrow, eyes drifting to his hand before falling on you again. he didn’t understand, because he never realised the extent of it all. it is not just them, he speaks quieter than before, realisation a slow but heavy hit, you find reason to fear me, too.

rob: it wasn’t a quick realisation, but something that built with time; he was never committed, despite what he claimed to feel, and he never reciprocated past your hidden meetings away from the world he lived the rest of the day. he wasn’t mindful of how long had passed since he’d made his way outside to feel… something. he wasn’t sure what he needed, but staring at screens and seeing your reflection, sitting in thrones and wondering if you would approach him, it wasn’t helping. he remembered the last time you stood beside him, watching the stars quietly, you both enjoying company more than anything. but in a moment he wished to declare something forbidden in the eyes of many, you’d looked up to him with the most delicate of smiles and carried their views. this cannot continue, you’d whispered, softly, echoing the thoughts that had first crossed his mind, if i could make a wish for anything, it would be for this, for us, but… he’d reached for your hand before you could continue, noticed the way your eyes became glassy. let me make that wish come true, he’d offered, as sincere as he could be, it will not be easy, but i will make things as they need to be to ensure that this does not need to end. your privacy, your safety, it will be kept through every moment, i can ensure you as much. your smile began to fade as you answered, i don’t wish to be hidden, not at your detriment. he wishes he’d have tried harder, stopped you from walking away, or just confessed to you that this was more than just affection. it was never a detriment, not for someone i love. perhaps you’d hear his unspoken words when you looked at the stars, too. 

morty: he’d never changed, and you had loved it for him once, until you understood that mercy had never been something he wanted to offer, nor would learn to – and it reminded you that he was someone to be feared. he’s stood in a doorway watching you. hasn’t moved in minutes, maybe longer, never letting his eyes go further than just past where you’re sitting. if he moved, if he spoke, if he dared to even breathe every part of him would shatter in the reality that you had brought to him. no asking, no talking, just the simple words that he trusted you to never say to him, because you’d always promised him that he was enough. please try to understand, you say gently, eliciting nothing more than a scowl in response, i’m worried, i feel fear just treading the ground around you, afraid someone may take it the wrong way or see me in a different way to how you see me. he looks down from your eyes for merely a second, just long enough for everything inside to crumble. do you not think that’s selfish? he doesn’t move closer, doesn’t try to approach you. do you not think that you could have tried harder, just for me? his chest burns as you look away from him sorrowfully, but unlike him, you never look back. it never ceases to amaze me how similar all you humans are. he still doesn’t turn, even as his words turn sour. do you not think i worry too? i see your vulnerability, i consider it with every decision i make, every step i take, and you still wouldn’t believe that was enough. his laugh is bitter, a frail cover for the emptiness within, something only you had been able to fill, and seal away by a promise he wasn’t sure he could keep. go, but know that if i ever see you again, you will be treated no differently than everyone else, then you will truly know fear.  

magnus: you knew of his power, understood what he was capable of, never once feared for your life around him – but the whispers in your dreams telling you to move on only became louder, and so did the vision of your death at his hands. the only room he can sit in without memories beginning to haunt him is one you never touched. a small room that had been filled with old books and relics, now cleared so he could sit inside and feel freedom for five minutes of the day. your absence caused him more pain that he could admit to, let alone handle, but he had forced himself to leave you to the peace you wanted in the hopes that maybe you’d understand what it was like without him. his allocated five minutes of freedom are over before he hopes and he’s forced back into the emptiness that the rest of tizca brought him. as he walks the halls, he replays fragments of your words to him. i do trust you, beyond anything, but this is far bigger than just you or i. he’d contemplated the consequences of giving everything up. you could not prevent fate, even if you wished to. but he would always try. love was never meant to exist between us. those words stop him completely. his hands are curled into fists at his side, breathing deepening to the point where he can barely feel reality around him. he doesn’t have time to realise what’s changed, not until he can feel you with him, presence alluring as he feels your discontent, your sadness, filling every crack of time and space between you both. he’s not there, not physically, but he sees you turn to him as though you know he’s there. let me try to make it work between us, he asks, quietly, never expecting a return. it never could work, you answer, we were not made for each other. 

horus: of course there was talks about it, you’d heard of the intention to make him warmaster the second it had reached prying ears – and it was in that moment, you realised you could never stay with him. the feeling didn’t sit right with him, not when he knew you were right there yet entirely untouchable to him. he could bring planets to heel, he could crusade in the name of his father, but he couldn’t convince you that love was enough. it had sat on his mind for days as he tried to come up with a speech to change your mind, have you fall to your knees and accept him like he always wanted. the speech never came, the opportunity to approach you never manifested, not until he saw you speaking with a face he didn’t recognise within the grand hall one evening. weeks of stewed emotions and feelings seem to hit him at once as he approached you, ending your conversation as another person bowed to him. i don’t know how to change things, he tells you, honestly, eyes never leaving your own despite how they dart around the room. if i couldn’t convince you then, i won’t be able to convince you now. but that doesn’t change how deeply my love burns for you. he doesn’t care if others heard, but he knows you do. so tell me how i can make this work. what do you need from me?  you can’t answer him immediately, swallowing hard and breaths quick. you open your lips just a little, then shut them once more, looking down to the ground. he knows your answer; you’ve told him before. i need you to not be you.  

lorgar: you had been warned by many, knowing the threat you posed to their regime, knowing that you had taken the primarch’s attention away from what should truly matter – and revenge was promised. he believed this was his punishment. he had let his devotion slip and focused his attentions elsewhere, and his reward was replaced with a love that could never be returned. he kneels at an altar as his eyes fall shut. immediately he’s tormented by the ghost of your hands on his skin, pressing over his shoulder, skimming his chest; or your lips pressed softly against his neck. then he hears the echoes of a whisper, what was left of your presence in his world. i could never love another as much as i love you. his lips curl at each word. he’d replay it a thousand times over and over, never to be sick of the sound. but then it falls eerily silent, his mind pushed to another time he had tried so hard to hide. you cannot love me, you’d told him, words cutting through any remainer of the faith he held, not in the way that i love you, not in the way that anyone could love you. he opens his eyes, darkness of the room around him a greeting he wished never came. but your words don’t stop. your life has never been decided by you. he can feel how you sat in his lap and whispered it to him. i was never to be part of your life. i’ve become a variable that they cannot control. if i stay… you had never finished, but he knew. he’d watched you walk away, he’d reached out his hand to stop you but never called. was it better this way? he asks, call to the void ignored by all around him. do you truly believe love is only dictated to me? his world may have been controlled by others, but what he felt for you. 

vulkan: an offhanded comment was made, not by the astartes, not even by anyone close to the primarch, but a serf who was yet to know their place – and though it should mean nothing, the mention of your humanity is a harsh reminder of how separate your worlds were. the silence looming through the room was unnatural. if anyone had entered his private chamber, they’d have known he was mourning; not someone lost, but something gone. quietude was a welcomed guest around him for some time, the only break offered being a forced schedule or something he wished to not attend. but he knew his duties were not to be missed. do not think for a second i doubted you, he recalled you telling him, stood no more than a few feet from where he now sat. your love is true and i know that, but i also know that you are more than i could ever be. he hated how all he did was listen. how he agreed; how he let you walk away from him with little more than a kiss to the back of his hand and a request of a promise for him to try to understand. he did, somewhere beyond the depths of his emotions, but he also knew that to him, you were everything. you would never see that though. you would never have believed him when he told you that he would make sure your authority matched his, that no one would ever stand up to you or question your place. in every other lifetime we’d have found each other, he’d spoken quietly the last time he felt your warmth, i’d have given all of those away to have a chance to be with you in this one. 

corvus: you’d first noticed the way his attention seemed to always divert to you, but the moment you watched him make a mistake because of you, it was obvious your time at his side was limited. at first he was worried you’d be able to feel his presence. he wondered whether you’d see him in the corner of your eyes, hear his footsteps you knew so well, understand that your shadow wasn’t the only thing that had been following you this whole time. he shouldn’t be here, he should have given you the space you wanted and left you to what you had chosen, but the temptation was far too high for him to ignore it. whether you were doing the simplest tasks or something he chose to pay no attention to, he wanted to see it. he wanted you. and he truly thought he had gotten away with it, that his cover in the darkness of night and shadows was enough to keep him hidden away, prevent you from noticing the fear that lurked beyond. but as he turned into the alley where you had walked only moments ago, it was your smaller frame that stopped him with a hand held up to his chest. this only proves my point, you say to him, glare harsher than he expected, this is what i was afraid of. he only reaches for your hand to take it off him, chest already filled with anticipation and regret. i promised you your safety, he tries to tell you, his excuse meaningless. it was never that which you cared about. you were caught off-guard by a mere human in pursuit of me. the longer i’m around, the more of a danger you are to yourself. he never said you were wrong. he just didn’t want to admit you were right. 

alpharius: you’d found the collection of information that the alpha legion had on you, and believed there was no way you could ever live your normal life again – but you hadn’t stopped to consider if it really was the legion you were at risk of. watches you closely, head tilted slightly to the side. your happiness has faded, he can see it in the way you carry yourself so rigidly, tensing whenever anyone comes near. he sees the way your eyes scan the room like you’re waiting for something to surprise you; someone to be there that you were trying to desperately to avoid. he feels the smile falling onto his lips as he begins to approach, cautiously, truly believing that his surprise would be welcomed. as the room fell silent, you froze, and the grin that manifested on his lips only grew. are you okay, my love? he asks, hand on your back, tensed under his touch. you didn’t look to him, but he could feel all your attention on him already. i must applaud you on how convincing this all was. i did truly think that you had left. no one would dare question him, no matter how much fear was in your eyes. when you told me you were leaving, i’ll admit i was worried. but that i remembered that everything you said to me, how you were worried of what my father would do, or what my legion may say, or what my brothers might have done to you… it was all wrong. he reaches for your cheek, turning you to face him. his thumb ghosts your skin. he hums gently as he breathes in. it was an interesting way to test me, i will give you that much. perhaps not even a test of my loyalty, but this connection between us. i just wonder, my love, when did you realise that the only person you needed to fear was me?

i am getting on top of requests i promise, i've been very distracted with both catching pokemon and the nameless king, whose love i have rediscovered through nightreign, but the corvus fic is almost done ^^