barn-anon - Tumblr blog

[barn-anon]

I remembered hearing about Honsou. How he is such a monster, the worst of the worst. The most evil man in all of Warhammer. All the artwork of him portrays him as an ugly gargoyle-looking dude.

And then you read his books and he is an antihero. Had he not been given Iron Warrior geneseed, or even still, had he not been raised by a broken legion, he could have so easily been a hero of the imperium.

Honsou never revels in evil. He is just a determined guy, not letting things like morality get in his way. Mostly because he was raised in a world where concepts of morality don't exist in the first place.

Even Uriel can see it. And he isnt alone, the other Iron Warriors can see the Imperial Fist in him from a distance:

And sure, we can go on and on, talking about how badly his official artwork misses the mark, but the thing that is rapidly making him into one of my favourite characters is his personality. He is so filled with hope, so driven.

Honestly, if you didn't know this was the “most evil character in 40k”, you could have thought I wrote this. It echoes so much what I have been saying about the hobby these last few weeks.

(wait, am I evil? *shrugs* probably)

[barn-anon]

I saw your asks are open and SPRINTED over lol

Thoughts on AlphariusOmegon with a gender neutral reader with some semi-public, possessive voice kink? The Legion feels very Voyeur loving tbh which also brings up the thought of blindfolds or threesomes and -continues to talk for ten minutes-

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I snorted this request like crack thank you for sending

Relationships: AlphariusOmegon/GN!Reader

Warnings: The slight implication of lewdness, Voice kink, Does the implication of getting spit roasted by primarchs need a warning? Probably

You look around, taking a glance at Guilliman, at Sanguinus, before shifting slightly.

They don’t often meet in one place. Particularly more than two at a time. According to Alpharius, it often ends in little more than petty arguments and fuming tempers. When you put a bunch of men with egos and armies to protect in one room, all the sudden said room no matter how massive feels significantly tighter.

Some of them have brought others with them, but most are Astartes of their respective legions, commanders and captains; You feel a bit like the odd one out. Being the only one outside the military structure of the legions- and the only baseline human besides some high lords and members of the Militarium, and the serfs, doesn’t help.

“Nervous?”

You look up at him, eyes wide. It’s Omegon, you can tell. You don’t know how you can tell, but it’s something in him that can tell you the difference. The twins find it interesting, you suppose. They've tried to figure out what it is multiple times, and you assume it's so they can put a halt to it.

Omegon leans down closer to you to talk quietly, but not closer enough yet to be into your personal space. It's a bit difficult given the significant height difference.

“I feel a bit out of place. And lacking in usefulness.” Omegon laughs and shifts in his armor, the ceramite plates clicking against each other.

“If you’re worried about being useful, perhaps you can you speak dog to the Fenrisian?” You glance to Russ from across the massive hall and cough as Omegon cracks a smile; Though it fades as he then glances over to Guilliman and his accompanying Ultramarines.

The two of you stand close to one of the many balconies, just between being inside and out. Omegon ushers you just a bit more to the outside, under the stars, but still watches the primarchs inside. You notice his keen gaze is still on Guilliman, even after more than a few moments pass.

“What?” You ask, hands twisting each other as you watch his eyes glance between Guilliman and his captains.

“They’re talking about you.”

You hold in your surprise, lest you get reprimanded by Omegon for giving anything away. Omegon is either reading their lips or can hear them somehow through the various chatter, and you notice one of his captains glance at you for a moment. You avoid locking eyes with him, and back slightly more onto the balcony and out of sight.

“They’ve never seen you before. They’re suspicious,” Omegon trails off, before continuing. “They’ve agreed you’re too well kempt and demure to be a militarium commissar or commander.” You suppose they aren't wrong, but it still feels a bit stifling to know you're the current topic of conversation for another Primarch.

Stepping closer to you Omegon takes a hand and brushes the side of your cheek, before pulling your chin up slightly to look more upward at him. His touch is gentle even in his armor, and you notice his eyes have softened as he looks down at you.

“I’m sure he’ll be upset he didn’t get to see you dressed like this.”

He’s referring to Alpharius; And to the beautiful teal accented clothing you currently have on. It matches The Twins armor near perfectly, as designed.

As while Omegon is hear playing the front-facing Alpharius, the actual one is off with their legion, working with their legion to establish more pockets of control outside of the knowing of the other primarchs. The twins don't trust any of them, and they want to make sure they have footholds that any of them can't kick out from under the Alpha Legion. You don't entirely blame them for such a mindset, given recent squabblings between multiple of the legions as of late.

Omegon leans closer to you, but given his height he quickly realizes he won't be able to get as close as he wants without kneeling. So instead, he simply picks you up at the waist and sits you on the railing of the golden balcony, just out of view of the other primarchs. Your legs dangle, knees just pressing against Omegon's waist armor. Shortly after he treads well into your personal space, his hands on either side of your hips; One grasping you to make absolutely sure you can't fall.

You watch him lean inward, his eyes gentle and hooded as his breath brushes over your skin, and he kisses your cheekbone. His lips feel surprisingly cool and once he pulls away, you can feel the ghost of the feeling left behind.

“Once he returns, we can both have our way with you.” He feels the way you instantly tense under his hand.

“Omegon…”

You say, reprimanding him in surprise at his sudden change in attitude as your face blooms hotter. His brow furrows in displeasure at you saying his name despite him currently playing as Alpharius, but he doesn't scold you for it.

The various other primarchs are still chatting among themselves, speaking with either each other or militarium commanders and high lords. Meanwhile Omegon and you stay alone. He spoke to Horus shortly a bit ago, Lorgar a bit too, but not much more after that.

His hand moves to your lower back, feeling the way you shiver under the sensitive feeling of him pressing on it. He forces your to lean forward closer to him, back straighter.

“They can look at you all they want, but you’re ours.”

Your lower stomach feels tight, neck hot, as you can swear you feel their hands on your body. It's a ghost of a feeling, an imagining of previous experiences, but it still feels so real. You swear he knows it's happening, that you're mind is half lost in a memory, as Omegon smirks at you knowingly.

"You seem lost in thought, did I remind you of something?"

You wonder how he knows you so well, to catch you like that.

Before he has a chance to take things any further, to seduce you further with implication and the deep, smooth tone of his voice, heavy footsteps approach your private balcony.

"Alpharius?"

Lorgar raises his eyebrows slightly as he takes sight of you both, mostly of you sitting on the balcony railing. Omegon stands close to you, but he pulled back to maintain a somewhat respectable distance before Lorgar caught sight of anything he shouldn't have.

"Ahh, Lorgar," Omegon steps away from you further, and you dangle precariously close to the edge, but Omegon's hand still stays close. "Forgive the unfortunate seeming position, I just find it easier to have a conversation without bending over so harshly to look them in the eye." Lorgar smiles and laughs, waving his hand to usher away any doubt.

"Oh no worries, I understand." His smile stays, as he continues. "But may I borrow you from your companion for a moment? I have something I wish to give you in private." Omegon has no reason to refuse, but raises one hand for a moment.

"Yes, just give me a moment and I'll with meet you shortly. Then I can promise you my full attention." Lorgar nods and walks off, his hands behind his back. Omegon turns back to you, and his gauntlet cups your jaw once more with that same gentle touch.

"I will be back once I finish with him." His large armored thumb brushes across your lips and pulls your bottom lip slightly, barely exposing your waterline.

"And once I am, we will return to the Alpha, and we will have our way with you."

Omegon sees the way your eyes widen and pupils dilate, and smirks before assisting you in putting your feet back on the ground, and then leaving you alone on the balcony.

[barn-anon]

My favorite thing about fanfic authors is they can identify any gap in a canon timeline where characters are offscreen and exploit the ever living fuck out of it

They see a time skip of any length and go

[barn-anon]

The best part of 40k

[barn-anon]

just learned about aquilan shield custodes... oh to have a huge golden bodyguard following you like a scary dog 24/7, not even leaving you alone to sleep... it'd be a shame if he got a little too possessive, even more so than his duty could justify... a shame if one of the emperor's finest found himself utterly besotted with his ward, wanting things that custodians aren't made to want... a real shame if you became the prize and obsession of your big golden boy, knowing that there was basically no force strong enough, not even space marines, to keep you away from his affections... 👀

Having a Custodes get attached to you would be a weird fucking thing. I mean most of them are super stoic even more so than Astartes, but they are capable of emotion. I mean in Saturine Valdor smiles at a guardsmen making a joke about stripping naked and running into battle, and in another book I can't remember a few custodes joke about another having a stick up his ass.

An Aqulian Shield being placed in change of protecting a particular human and having to spend so much of his time protecting you, perhaps you don't even know he is there at first, until he eventually reveals himself to you. You know he's always watching now, always making sure nothing ever happens to you. You're his charge, his one and only to protect and make sure the future comes to pass.

He doesn't know what love is, but surely this feeling in his chest in that, yes? His overwhelming desire to keep you away from everything, to keep you in his light. Can Custodes love? He's heard of Astartes tempted by such a thing, but could the Emperor give him such a flaw? He doesn't know, but he knows he wants you.

[barn-anon]

i forget who posted it but my friend brought up the primarch cock post again. will it ever end

[barn-anon]

Hi I'm 6'5 could I see the lion please? Also if it's possible demon Angron?

uhhhhhhh well. size difference is definitely up there

lion at 9'10 (299 cm) and daemon angron at 56' (17.06 m)

[barn-anon]

so ummm. i also caught cato sicarius fleas. idk what happened but now i want to be bullied by the big arrogant blueberry. send help.

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Author’s note: I hope this is what you meant by bullying cause uuuuuuuuuh -microwave noises-

Summary: Cato Sicarius tires of being your just your escort.

Relationship: Cato Sicarius/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Lewd but not nsfw, dubcon, bullying sorta, Titus is an Ultrachad™ and Sicarius gets jealous you like him and tries to show you who the captain of 2nd company really is (which is still Titus in my heart but in this case no) Nonconsensual kissing, Armor kink, choking kinda, Demeaning behavior

He is worth more than this.

Cato Sicarius is captain of 2nd company, one of the most honored Ultramarines in this millennium. He is worth more than guard duty, escorting around baseline humans. One of Guilliman’s prized diplomats perhaps might be worth more than a common guardsmen, but in his eyes, you’re nothing more than an idea he deems largely stupid.

His genefather had been collecting diplomats as of late. Sicarius sees little need in it, but as his Primarch insisted he grits his teeth and bares it. He must have ideas beyond his scope to understand, though it doesn’t mean that Sicarius doesn’t struggle to see the logic.

“Motion sick, Captain Sicarius?”

One of the younger marines dares to joke at his petulant expression.

“We are worth more than shuffling around diplomats,”

Sicarius spits out in response, and you speak up. You’ve been within hearing distance this entire trip, and even in the silence everyone could hear Sicarius seething.

“Your fellows don’t seem to mind.”

You’ve heard from them that Sicarius is more than a harsh captain; He’s a stoic, pompous man in need of a hit to his ego. Even by Ultramarine standards. Once you’d broached the subject, the men in 2nd company escorting you a previous time had been quite eager to complain.

The Thunderhawk lands and you can hear the engines kill off one by one, and the rear ramp falls. There’s a significant gap between it and the ground, and while the Ultramarines walk down as normal, for you it’s a hefty drop.

Lieutenant Titus, whom you’ve had multiple interactions with before at this point, turns just before you’re about to jump and reaches a hand outward. You accept his hand and take the jump off the ramp.

“Thank you, Titus.”

He nods, but says nothing. You follow beside him and for a moment realize you’ve lost sight of Sicarius, before Titus speaks up and distracts you.

“You’ve already spoken to Lord Gulliman?” You nod and cross your arms, entering the massive fortress and escaping from the harsh winds.

“Yes. Only to give me a few necessary details. I imagine he has far more to do than speak to me.” You laugh and gently pat the arm of Titus’ armor, fingers brushing against the dents and scratches.

“But we can only hope they’ll see reason," you say, referring to the planetary officials you're currently going to meet. "I’d hate for lord Guilliman to be forced on employing harsher measures.”

Titus nods in a gentle understanding, and you continue deeper into this fortress area you’ve been welcomed to. Sicarius elects to post himself outside of the room you’re delegated to have this meeting in, alongside two other of his men. The rest, including Titus, whose face he cannot stand anymore at the moment, will post inside.

With his hearing and the systems in his helmet he can just hear the goings on inside the closed room, hearing your lighter voice in contrast to the others in the room.

She's a usual and gifted diplomatic negotiator, Guilliman had said about you the first time he had placed Sicarius in charge of escorting you. Make sure she isn't harmed, her work is important to keeping Ultramar under control.

If the old planets of Ultramar don't wish to conform with Guilliman's return, they should be applying force to demand they submit, not touting around fellow baseline humans to placate them.

Sicarius', stuck in his own head, wrinkles his forehead and scoffs. A younger marine beside him looks for just a moment, before rubbing his nose with his gauntlet and looking away. Sicarius can hear you issuing farewells now, and since there was a notable lack of yelling, he assumes it went well enough.

Sicarius turns to the other marines beside him, his hand on the pommel of his chainblade. He turns just as the doors open, and gestures to his men while you stand behind them.

“All of you start returning to the Thunderhawk and watch our perimeter, I will escort her back myself.” They hesitate for only the tiniest moment, but do begin to take their leave. They have no ability to refuse their captain, no matter how odd the request.

You watch them walk past you, before Sicarius’ voice cuts the air like a knife and forces your eyes to him.

“With me.”

You don’t have any reason to refuse him per se, so you follow him with an apprehensive feeling, and expression.

"Shouldn't we return to the-"

"Quiet."

Your lip curls, though you're still apprehensive as you end up somewhere far from where you entered, and he stops your walking his a rough hand on your shoulder. Astartes are lightning fast; He doesn't it before you even truly realize. With said hand he pushes you against the wall, and knocks the air from your lungs, and his hand moves to your face instead. He presses your cheeks inward, your breath is harsh as your fingers try to pull at his gauntlet.

“What are you doing?”

You say trying to wrench yourself free, fear in your eyes. Such a task is impossible however, and Sicarius uses his other hand to pull off his helmet and hang it on his thigh. His short hair is messy, and his cheeks are flush red. With anger or something else you have no idea, though you know he is furious.

“You’ve gotten too comfortable with your lack of respect; Being Lord Guilliman’s favorite.” You lose any bit of snark when you realize Sicarius is deathly serious. An angry astartes isn’t something you ever want to face, and color drains from your face as you realize how tightly you're stuck between him and the wall.

"You're far too delicate and small to be walking around like you can order Ultramarines around. Titus only allows you because he knows he's being watched after his incident."

His nose wrinkles, and he glances away as his lips shift, trying to find the words.

“Why do I always get stuck with you,” He growls, speaking about how he shouldn’t be escorting around Imperium parchment pushers. You hesitantly look up at him, face red from his tight grip.

"I," You open your mouth just a bit, trying to find something to say that might calm him down, though it seems like he's mad at something in his own head, as much as he is you.

But you can't find the words, nor would you even have the time to say them, as Sicarius' face leans downward to smash his lips against yours, and freeze you in the sheer shock of it. You have no hope of pushing him away despite your effort and his gauntlet keeps your face firmly forward; You can feel his hot breath on your skin, and his even hotter skin against your own. His lips are rough, you can feel tiny scars rub against your own softer lips, his hand gripping your jaw forcing your mouth somewhat open. His kiss is so angry it doesn't feel entirely like one, when he moves his teeth brush against your bottom lip, and for a moment you think he's going to bite it.

When he pulls away you can hear the soft pop of your lips separating, and see the shine of your spit on his mouth.

“Sicar-“

He does it again, your hands grasp the collar of his chestplate for leverage to try and push him away, and to stay upright. He’s barely letting you breathe, and when his hand moves from your jaw you’re gasping for air. Though his hand simply moves to press against your collarbone, still keeping you pinned between the wall and him; It's just high enough that it slightly presses against your neck, and you can feel his one armored knee force itself between your legs. You smack his chestplate desperately for air, and he pulls his mouth away from you for a brief moment as you gasp.

He only returns moments later however, but in that brief moment you see his face had less anger than it had earlier. You feel his nose press against your cheek, how cold his armor feels as you desperately grasp it.

Your legs wobble as you groan into his mouth, and when he finally pulls himself far enough away from you and takes his supporting knee from between your legs, you crumble to your knees holding your chest and taking in air.

On the floor you're at height with his thighs, and he leans over just enough to grab your face gently.

“If you’re going to be in my company again, I’ll expect you to be on better behavior. You should act as soft as you look.”

His hand leaves your face, gently pushing as he does.

“Captain Sicarius, are you still returning to the Thunderhawk?” An astartes calls him with vox in his helmet, and Sicarius grabs it off of his belt. It'll help hide how red his lips are from how hard he kissed you, your own looking similar; He wipes his mouth with the back of his armored hand before slipping it on and responding.

“We are. I’ll be there in a moment. Just a small detour”

Sicarius casts a glance to you, out of breath with your hand on your chest, before grabbing your arm and gently hauling you up to your feet.

"Not a word about this."

He says, and you can feel his gaze through his helmet. You wipe your mouth with your hand, feeling your swollen lips and the spit on your face.

"Lead the way, Captain Sicarius."

[barn-anon]

So momrad wants to give y'all descriptions of the boys

HOWEVER

I don't really like/can use those sort of character profile stuff because reasons my ADHD ass refuses to tell me

So what is the bare minimum that y'all want/need for a descent description of the boys and the oc girls

[barn-anon]

ugh i LOVE cato sicarius so much he's the WORST. i like to think he's the type of guy who'll meet a nice sweet girl and develop a super intense crush but doesn't know how flirt with her beyond being a bully and maybe showing off his muscles. likes pushing her around to hear all the cute noises she makes but god forbid he admit he's got a thing for a pleb. asshole (affectionate)

All of Sicarius’ subordinates thought he was insufferable enough, but now that he’s gotten all ‘sweet’ for one of the refugees they’ve been hauling or whoever else, he’s unfuckingmanagable.

Random Ultramarine: Um Captain, why are you staring at her?

Sicarius: I hate her, why can’t we be rid of her already? -his face his red-

Random Ultramarine: Rent free…

[barn-anon]

Here is a fanfic for u all, i feel good about this one lmao.

Background context: This is the pov of my lost primarch oc Almach. He is the missing 2nd primarch and is a blank with the ability to "consume" or hold onto souls. In this timeline, he does not get killed and wiped from history, and so lives through the heresy. I hope u enjoy, i have more writings featuring him, if yall like it i may post some more.

Warnings: Violence and death

@ms--lobotomy ik you wanted to read this so hav ping :).

“I had never felt more souless than when I watched my brother Angron die, I had just slaughtered my favorite brother in cold blood, and doing that broke me. I watched Sanguinus rip the nails from Angron’s skull and he immediately collapsed to the floor, dead. I ran over to him, desperately trying to comfort him in his final moments, but he was already gone. I grabbed his soul in a vice grip, refusing to let go, like I had done for Lorgar, but now, another presence fought me for it. The god of blood and skulls, Khorne. I stood my ground before him, the concept of violence and death made manifest, and I prepared to fight him for my brother’s soul. I did not back down, I assumed anyone else in my position would have gone mad from the sight of Khorne, but not I. This was my purpose, and not even a god would stop me. We fought, not as mortals do, but as gods, revealing our forms as to melt the other in horror. Khorne, realized that I could not be swayed by his incomprehensible nature, relented, and in our parting, tore my brother’s soul in half. I had won, for without the rest of it, Angron could not be tormented any longer. I came back to reality, Sanguinus was gone, I pulled myself up, and raced after the sounds of a duel, I was too late by that point, I watched as Sanguinus died, once again, unable so save or even comfort a brother I loved. My rage was all consuming, all encompassing, there was nothing but grief and rage in my heart. I abruptly realized that, in said rage, managed to rip the souls out of many soldiers, and daemons as well. That action may have saved some of my other brothers, but I was not concerned about that. I watched father kill Horus, I watched father die in turn, my other brothers dragging him away to the golden throne. I remained, I felt nothing, the great emptiness I was, the emptiness I always will be. I left the ship, calling for my sons, my vox system had broken at some point, I do not know when. Even so, one of them heard me K’inich, my strongest son. He was gravely wounded, missing half of his arm, but still, he limped towards me, I ran to him, as he collapsed in my arms. We said nothing, nothing needed to be said, I was crying, from grief, from anger, and strangest of all, joy. The simple joy that my son was alive, that even though I had lost much, I still had my sons. That I could return to them, that I didn’t die. I picked K’inich up, I carried him to where my other sons were, I found another one of them, also injured, and I carried him as well. I was reunited with my legion, and we left the smoldering ruins of terra, there was nothing we could help with. We went home, back to Kanian 4, once again, safe in the trees.

[barn-anon]

@kit-williams Zul ❤

I can't wait for my mental image of Zul to be completely incorrect from how you see him 💀

[barn-anon]

Mermay!

Guess who is participating in Mer-may?

It's meeeee

Yer boys are going to be mermaids since I cannot draw warhammer to save my life!

[barn-anon]

is Torc a continuation of the Horror 3 part you wrote? It gave me such brainworms about the lamenter that was mentioned, If the old loyalist prejudices about them being cursed still exist in this new world.

how /Horrible/ that a poor human would have such a CURSED bonded. the smallest bad luck to the worst occurrence would be heaped on him as his fault.

I wonder if some of the other chapters blamed him when their bonded were taken along with his human. It's not the human's fault of course that their marine brings such Wretched Calamity wherever he goes, they've tried to tell her to drive him off but she doesn't believe in such superstitious stuff like curses

So I never really thought about it (I knew I had a story about loss but I've written about 150 husbandry stories I think so it gets kinda muddled) However he is now from that event... he lost his 2nd human in that Event. Troc has had 3 humans... his first whom died to a human killer... his second whom again died to human killers... and his current (as of now unnamed) little girl. (Again emphasizing that after your bonded has died that is not the only one; also a reason why False Bonds are a thing because sometimes you just enjoy hanging out with people)

That thought might have crossed their minds when they saw that a lamenter was in the bunch. However, he would adamantly refuse to be driven off because his bonded needed him. Surprisingly enough his bonded faired rather well and he took some horrible wounds but of course he doesn't mind.

[barn-anon]

Chained

Author’s Note: This is Joth’s first fic! I hope you enjoy it :D Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts

Warnings: mild body horror, ask me to tag

Summary: You meet your newest foster.  He’s grumpy and injured.

"He's not… The most friendly…" Lieutenant Ollias started, the Ultramarine's hands at his side as he shifted awkwardly on his feet, looking down at you, a worried frown furrowing his brows.

You look at the Astartes he's referring to. He's a Chaos Space marine - and from his colorations, he's a World Eater. You can see the Nails buried into his skull, and he's growling at you - with both the mouth that is likely fused to the armor he's still wearing, as well as the secondary mouth on his chest, needle-sharp teeth snapping in warning at you. You had been fostering feral Chaos Space Marines for some time, and had dealt with initially hostile Chaos Marines in the past. With your years of experience, you make sure to shove the initial, instinctual panic of seeing such a large, powerful and hostile being in the furthest corners of your heart. "You don't say." You hum, going for a light-hearted tease back, managing to smile. "Is there a particular reason he's been restrained like this?"

The Chaos Space Marine's growls intensified as Ollias spoke explained "We found him while out on patrol. He was covered - and still is - in the gore of several animals. When we tried to speak with him, he attacked us. So we restrained him and brought him back to the base. When we had the apothecaries look him over, we found out that he's got several injuries - which explains the additional hostility. There's only so much room we have on the base… And if you're willing to foster him as he heals up, we're hoping that he'll agree to the Nail Removal surgery."

You hum again in thought, looking at the still snarling Chaos Space Marine over thoughtfully, and address him directly "Do you understand this language? Or do you only speak whichever Space Languages you know?" Some of the aggression might be indignance that he's not being included in the conversation. You knew it would piss you off if you were being talked at and around by a Known Enemy and Some Random Stranger.

The World Eater growls again at you before rumbling out "I speak little. Understand more. You think to handle me, human?" He bared both sets of teeth at you, as a clear threat display.

You were entirely unimpressed by his posturing. "Would you rather heal up chained to the wall and being lectured by Ultramarines all day and all night long?" You liked Ultramarines, but most Chaos Astartes really didn't.

"What is… Fostering?" The World Eater asked after several seconds of internal contemplation, head tilting a little as he asked.

"You would live with me, in my home and recover. We'd interact with each other at your pace. You'd have your own rooms and be able to come and go as you please - as long as you come back to my home every night and don't maim, kill or harm other sentient beings. If you want to go hunting, or need to spar, I know of several Astartes-grade sparring facilities that host both loyalist and Chaos marines. I also know of several nearby parks that stock prey for hunting. Both terrestrial and aquatic-based prey. They also semi-regularly release flight-based prey, but those are on special days, so that the birds don't escape and mess with the local ecosystem. You'd stay with me until the fostering period was up and you've fully healed from your injuries."

"And after? What then?" The World Eater inquired, his helmeted gaze focused firmly on you.

"You'd be free to do whatever you wanted - short of random murder and other illegal things." You explain honestly. You wouldn't be surprised if some marines did do illegal things after they were fostered, but that wasn't anything you could prove… And honestly, as long as they weren't hurting anyone without their explicit consent, it was none of your business. "I know that there are several Chaos Warbands in the area, who might be willing to take in a new member, or you can wander around on your own. Those are just a couple of options for you."

"If this is a trick, I will kill you." The World Eater threatened.

This was far from the first time that you'd been threatened by a potential foster. Chaos Space marines were a heavily traumatized lot, and many expected treachery and duplicity at every turn. It was one of the challenges of fostering Chaos Marines that you'd long grown used to. You knew that patience and showing that you were someone trustworthy, someone who wouldn't turn on them, they tended to open up to you, at least a little. "I understand that." Reassuring him that you meant no harm, that you weren't trying to trick him was unlikely to help. Especially while pinned to the wall of an Ultramarine base and unable to move. "Do you want to come with me? If we don't click as foster people, I know several others who'd be happy to take you in who have different set-ups and fostering styles."

The World Eater seemed to mull over your words as he tried to glare the Ultramarine lieutenant into submission. He eventually answered with a quiet "I go with you, little human."

You smile warmly and nod "Alright. Lieutenant Ollias, how do we get him down from the wall?" You also tell the World Eater your name, inviting him to use it to call for you, if he wanted to.

He just grins down at you and says "I'll keep that in mind, little human~" as Ollias pressed a button, undoing the World Eater's restraints.

For a moment, it seemed as if the World Eater was about to lunge for the lieutenant, but he seemed to reassess. He walked over to you, helmet tilted downward to keep you in his sight line "Let's go. Too many corpse-worshippers here. Bleh."

That was also something that the Chaos Marines accused the loyalists of. You never could get them to explain what that meant. "Alright then. Are you hungry? I've got some snacks in my bag, as well as water, if you're thirsty."

"Food? Yes! Food is yes." The World Eater trilled, moving closer to you as you lead him out of the base.

You smile as you pull out a bag of jerky and an astartes-sized water bottle out of your bag, tearing open the bag "Here you go! Beef jerky - I've been told it tastes like dried Grox - whatever that is."

He carefully took the bag of jerky from your hands and shoved it - plastic and everything - into the mouth on his chest, barely chewing it before swallowing. The water bottle followed after. You weren't surprised that he'd eaten the packaging, as other Chaos Space Marines had done that before, and had been fine. You figure it might be some sort of mind-trip thing they try to pull. You blink as you see a flash of movement behind your newest foster, noticing for the first time that this World Eater also had a tail - which was wagging ever so slightly. "More!… Please?" The World Eater asked, looking down at you hopefully. "No food while captured…" He said sorrowfully, a low whine leaving him.

"I've got a couple more snacks, and we can stop by a fast food place on our way home. What do you like to eat?" You ask, wanting to know more about your foster - and to know what you should stock your fridge with.

"I like food. Anything I can eat is good." The World Eater answers after several seconds of thinking "Rations are… bland. But I will eat whatever. Jerky good!"

This answer is also unsurprising, though you suspect as he gets to know the cuisines available to him, and the fact that there's quite a bit of fresh food available, his answer will likely change. "Alright, let's hit up a fast food place and order a bunch of things off the menu. I bet you can eat a lot, yeah?"

The World Eater nods, tail wagging faster.

[barn-anon]

That salesman...

I looked up Astartes stores in the area. There weren't any nearby so I drove to the nearest one about 40 minutes away.

Guys, there's a ton of things there! From all sorts of food to all sorts of enrichment items, even large ones like sand pits! The salesman wanted to hear all about Mangy Little Marine and he kept oohing and aahing throughout.

Apparently Night Lords really enjoy leatherworking, on top of other forms of arts and crafts, the salesman mentioned they seem to have a special feud with martens for whatever reason. What's up with that? They also make for great guardian pets, even better than Ultramarines if properly trained, no intruder gets past a vigilant Night Lord. It seems the little guy I have near my yard is a slightly older marine, based on how weathered and beat up his armor is. He could have decided to abandon his group or he could have gotten kicked out.

Anyway, since the salesman said that if a Night Lord has been spending this much time in a place, it's his home now, I guess I have a Night Lord now. That is how I am justifying the fact that I bought a ton of food (mixed nuts will probably go over well!), a leatherworking kit, armor polishing paste and cloths, and even a bed! It's an ingenious little thing, you mount it in a tree or on some beams (he advised that one as opposed to a burrow style) and the marine can climb in it and sleep whenever he likes. Can't wait to mount it!

So, after thoroughly torturing my credit card, the salesman said that Mangy Little Marine needs a better name than Mangy Little Marine.

I am stumped. I didn't even name Prince, my boyfriend at the time joked that he'd be living like a prince at my place so it stuck.

Does anyone have any suggestions for the name of our little marine?

[barn-anon]

You’re crying and begging Inigo to wake up, just wake up please. His broken and bloody corpse now motionless beneath you. Please just wake up, you need him.

Inigo, Inig-

Someone grabs you and you open your eyes. Heart racing as you tremble. Soft fabric. You’re in your Alpha Legionaries’ massive bed. Sitting up, you find two sets of eyes looking back at you. Inigo and Zeel. Right… they rarely get free time together and wanted to spend it with you.

Concerned warbles as Inigo shifts closer, bad dream? You instantly close the distance and latch onto him. Even louder concerned warbles from Zeel. Inigo wraps his arms around you, purring soothingly. You can feel Zeel nuzzling you from behind.

Blankets are pulled up and pillows are shifted as Inigo and Zeel get you settled down between the both of them. Both purring loud and strong enough that you can feel it in your chest. Inigo presses a small kiss to your forehead. They’ll keep the bad dreams away.

Tagged: @kit-williams • @egrets-not-regrets • @bleedingichorhearts

Continuation of the earlier one. To make it better