druidwolf21

[druidwolf21]

I am completely normal about this I swear

Liar

Pairing: Demetrian Titus x FemOC

Warnings: vague references to SA

Description: Titus battles guilt and rage in equal measure as Leandros does his best to twist the truth. Meanwhile, both Sera and Vesta struggle to heal.

Find the previous parts of this series on my Masterlist, comment and ask to added to/removed from the Taglist, and remember my Asks and DMs are always open!

“Lieutenant.”

Titus ignored the other Ultramarine. He stood next to a medical cot in the Apothecary, staring down at its single occupant. 

So small.

He remembered when he’d first seen her. In that nameless village on a backwater planet. When the rest of the citizens hid, she came forth. Trembling. Sinking to her knees before him and the other members of his Death Watch team. 

So small. So brave.

With a skill to rival the stealthiest Raven Guard, she’d climbed into his chest and made a home between his hearts. 

Before her… I was a dead man walking.

A raspy whimper locked his focus back on the tiny figure, dwarfed in a bed meant for warriors. Titus counted her heartbeats, measured the seconds between each rise and fall of her chest, calculated the exact temperature of her skin.

Too fast. Too long. Too high.

Apothecary Callistus had not bothered to conceal his concern. 

“Baselines do not do well in prolonged cold and damp, especially when unclad and lacking proper caloric intake. Even if it was only a few days, such conditions are ripe for illness. Her abnormal lung resonance concerns me.”

He hadn’t mentioned the bruises, the welts, the abrasions. 

The hairline fractures. 

Bandages wrapped Sera from her neck to the very extremities of her limbs. What skin Titus saw under the harsh Apothecarion lumens looked like the flesh of a corpse newly dead.

My fault. All my fault.

Another whimper. Her eyelids flickered, as if she fought the sedatives. Or nightmares.

“Lieutenant!”

The bark rang like a bolter shot. Sera flinched.

Titus snapped his head around. “Be silent!”

The Ultramarine, name unknown and unasked, recoiled. “The allotted time has passed…sir.”

Titus clenched his jaw. He calculated how quickly he would need to move to incapacitate the young Battle Brother, throw him from the Apothecarion, and seal the door behind him. His fingers twitched toward his hip… only to remember he carried no weapon. Captain Acheron had seen to that.

His guard tightened his grip on his bolter. “Now, Lieutenant.”

I cannot. I will not. How can I abandon her again?

Another set of heavy footsteps. “Nothing will touch her while I breathe.”

Titus stared at Callistus. Resentment burned in his gut. But the concern in the Apothecary’s tired eyes stifled his bitter words. He glanced at the bed next to Sera’s, where another tiny, broken female lay.

The old warrior understood.

The guard shifted. “I remind you, Apothecary, you are confined to the Apothecarion until further notice.”

Callistus grunted. “I am well aware, boy.”

He shot Titus another look. Titus nodded stiffly in reply.

He turned back to his guard.  “Let us go.”

Forgive me, Little Healer.

Eyes followed the pair as they marched through The Resilient’s corridors. Fellow Ultramarines knew better than to gossip out loud, but Titus saw the tension in their armored forms, the way helmets pivoted from side to side. The serfs had no such reticence.

“...broke into the Chaplain’s private quarters….”

“...heard from a Sacratium serf that the Chaplain was….”

“Lies! Such heresy could not….”

Every step became a battle as Titus fought the rage snarling within his chest. He saw Sera once again, his Little Healer, pinned beneath that-

You are an Ultramarine, damn it! You will maintain control.

Another door hissed open. Titus followed his guard into a rarely used briefing room. Captain Acheran paced before him, face set in a scowl far deeper than usual. Gadriel and Chairon stood together off to one side, each with his own Ultramarine guard.

Remain rational. A howling beast will not help-

Leandros stood behind the Captain. Fully-armored, back straight, arms crossed. Unrepentant.

The rage within consumed all else.

***

A Few Minutes Earlier

“These accusations are dire, Brother Chaplain.”

Beneath his skull helm, Leandros ground his teeth. Spittle dripped over his chin from the new scar bisecting his lips, courtesy of Titus’s fist. His eyes followed the Captain as he paced back and forth. 

Blind fool.

“I remind you, Captain, that you bore witness to the assault.”

The one-eyed Ultramarine made no response. He stalked once more across the floor of the otherwise empty room. Candlelight reflected off his ocular augmetic, making the lines and scars on his face stand out like an ill-carved statue.

“I also saw the woman.”

Every muscle in Leandros’s body stiffened.

The Harlot.

He’d had her in his hands, trembling beneath him. He could still smell her sweat, hear her pleas for mercy. 

I would have broken her.

His blood stirred at the thought.

“It is my right to cleanse any serf I deem-”

The door hissed open. The Sergeant entered first, eyes alight with zealous wrath.

Fool.

Then, Brother Chairon, with his bleeding hearts.

Weak.

They paused in tandem when they saw him. Leandros felt their hatred across the room, like the heat from a forge. Chairon made to step forward, only for his guard to growl a warning. 

Leandros smiled.

I will relish overseeing your punishment, weak-minded children that you are.

Then, the door opened once more. And the Heretic himself entered.

If Leandros had thought the hatred of Damocles Squad a fire, then the rage of the Lieutenant was an immolating inferno. He barely had time to raise his crozius before Titus hit him with all the force of a Carnifex charge. He staggered, forced to one knee, as Titus’s hands wrapped around the holy staff and pressed.

“Heretic.” Leandros spat.

Titus only snarled. Looking in his eyes, Leandros felt a thrill of something down his spine. The same thrill he’d felt when the Lieutenant and his minions had burst into his chambers hours ago.

But I… I… know no fear! 

“Restrain him!”

Acheran’s bellow launched the guarding Ultramarines into action. It took four of them to drag the Lieutenant away. He struggled like a wild beast as they forced him to his knees and clasped electro-shackles around his wrists. His hate-filled eyes never left the Chaplain’s. 

Leandros regained his composure with difficulty.

“Do you disbelieve your own eyes, Captain? Every action digs this traitor deeper into his pit of heresy.”

This time both the Sergeant and Chairon stepped forward. The guards raised their bolters.

“Enough!” Acheran rubbed a hand over his face. “I chose not to throw you all in holding cells. And this is the gratitude I receive?”

“Imprisonment is the least he deserves.” Brother Chairon snarled.

“I will be the judge of that.” The Captain snapped. “Accusations have been leveled. Before this becomes the talk of the ship, if it has not already, I wanted to hear what each of you has to say for yourself.”

Finally.

Leandros extended his arms as if delivering a sermon. “I accuse Demetrian Titus of heresy. His corruption twisted the minds of those under his command, culminating in their unpardonable attack upon my person. A crime against the Codex, itself.”

For the first time, the Heretic spoke. “If there is a heretic here, it is you, Leandros. Defiler of the Innocent!”

Leandros deigned to address him. “I, a defiler? Coming from you, what irony.” He took satisfaction in hearing Titus’s teeth grind, even more in the puzzled glances passed between Gadriel and Chairon. 

“He has concealed much from you, Battle Brothers, about the foul nature of his relationship with that… female.”

Now, the killing blow.

He coated his voice in stern sympathy. “After being properly chastised, she was only too eager to bear witness to his abominations. The simple-minded child then attempted to gain my favor the only way she knew how.”

A beat of utter silence. 

Leandros took in the expressions on his fellow Ultramarines’ faces. Acheron looked pained, his mouth set in a grim line. Horror shone from the Sergeant’s eyes. Chairon growled deep in his chest.

And Titus?

The Chaplain stepped back as the Lieutenant lunged to his feet, ignoring the pulses of electricity from his shackles. For a moment he stood there, chest heaving. The look in his eyes….

Leandros took another step back as a roar shook dust from the ceiling beams.

“LIAR!”

***

Vesta returned slowly to consciousness. Harsh lighting made her eyes water, harsher chemicals tickled her nose. She listened to the low buzzing of machines. The muted whispers of medicae.

Home.

One of the medicae, she struggled to recall his name, appeared beside her, fingers tapping away on a dataslate. He met her eyes and drew a sharp breath.

“Lord Apothecary!” His shout sent pounding through her skull. “She’s awake!”

The caustic reply brought a faint smile to Vesta’s lips. 

“Which ‘she’, Marius? There are two, if you had not noticed.”

Thunderous footsteps shook the cot. A craggy, scarred face loomed over her. A lifetime surrounded by the Emperor’s Angels had taught her to read them like few baselines could.

He looks so tired.

She tried to speak, but only a rasp emerged from her bone-dry throat. Something soft and relieved bloomed in the Apothecary’s sunken eyes. His voice filled the room.

“Out! Everyone out! No, not you, Cilla. Continue monitoring Sera’s vitals, and inform me immediately if anything changes.”

Sera…!

Again, an attempt to speak. Again, a failure.

“Hush, little one. Here.” 

A cup appeared at her lips, held between two armored fingers. She felt another massive hand slip beneath her neck and shoulders. It lifted her without effort, allowing her to swallow a few mouthfuls of lukewarm water.

“Uncle….”

“Shhh.” 

She heard the hiss of an uncoupling gauntlet. Warm, calloused fingers brushed against her forehead as she was lowered back down to the thin padding.

“Rest, now.”

Lethargy settled over Vesta’s limbs like a blanket. She longed to snuggle into it, to drift back into peaceful-

“No!”

With all the meager strength she could muster, she reached out and gripped her uncle’s forearm. Her fingers came nowhere near to circling the limb, but she hooked them into the seams of his vambrace. 

“Uncle… Sera, she-”

“I know, little one.” A deep sigh, followed by a resounding thud as the Apothecary took a knee at her bedside. “We found her.”

She felt her heart begin to pound in her chest, sending flickers of pain through her ribcage. “Is she… is she…?”

“Alive.”

Vesta burst into tears. 

“Thank the Emperor!” She sobbed. “I’m sorry, Uncle. I… I thought I could… h-help….”

“Shhh.” The rough hand stroked her hair like it had so often when she was a child. “You did.”

She stared up at him through tear-blurred eyes. “Then, you found the servo-skull? The recording? He was hurting her, Uncle. Uncle?”

He was no longer at her bedside. He’d lurched to his feet, striding across the room and out of her sight. She heard him slam something aside, grumbling all the while. 

“Fool! I am a Warp-addled fool!”

He stomped back to her bedside, something concealed in his remaining gauntlet. He glanced down at her.

“You did well, child. Rest now. I will return. Cilla!” He bellowed. “I trust you are capable of caring for two patients in my absence.”

Vesta let her head drop back against the pillow. She heard a door hiss open in the distance, then a familiar roar.

“Do not repeat your orders to me, boy! If you will not allow me to go to him, then get the Captain here. Now.”

Comfort flowed through her.

Uncle will take care of everything. He always does….

Just before she drifted off, another voice whispered from somewhere nearby. Soft, pained, fearful.

“Dem…Demetrian…?”

@solspina @sleepyfan-blog @moodymisty @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bispecsual

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[druidwolf21]

@beckyninja

I fear I have added to many ominous threats to my work and now people fear my fluff 😂😂

He just needs some reassurance that's all 🥺

Abandoned.

Leman Russ/ Reader

Short and sweet!

No tw

A/N: Based on a comic I've included below by pigeon gazette.

@angronsjewelbeetle 👀👀 a lil somethin somethin fluffy

Leman paced back and forth, ignoring the foreign feeling of anxiety that grew in his gut and gnawed at the edges of his mind. Every sound had his ears pricking and his head spinning towards the door, just to be met with the heavy march of his marines or the softer steps of a serf passing by.

The wolfs frustration and unease grew with each passing moment. Your scent, once heavy and heady was now faint, hardly lingering upon the soft down pillow you rested your head on. The blankets had lost the warmth of your body and the hot tea beside the bed had long since stopped steaming, growing cold and congealing in the bottom of the mug. Lemans head dropped and he sank to the edge of the bed, his hand sweeping across the cold imprint where your body had lain. He sighed and dragged your favourite fur up to his nose, inhaling and biting back a whine upon finding your smell almost gone.

Still clutching the fur, Leman cast his eyes around the room. The fire had long since burnt low, its embers spitting and flickering pathetically as they grasped on to the last of the cindering timber. The candles placed around the room in wall mounted brackets had melted, dripping thick globules of wax down the tarnished brass and onto the floor. The only light in the room now was the cold light of the moon, seeping through the window, illuminating the bedroom with a cold silvered beam.

A whimper finally drew his attention and looked down. Laying on the floor, forlorn and aggrieved lay his pack brothers. Freki and Geri sprawled across the stone, huffing and groaning as they stared at the door.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do now...They're gone." Russ mumbled. The wolves snorted in reply, rolling their eyes and lolling their tongues out of toothed maws. Leman reached out to scruff his fingers across the wiry fur, feeling the low vibration of a whine building in the wolfs chest.

"You'll be ok" He rumbled. The wolf huffed and turned away, yellow eyes focused on the door.

Leman fell back across the bed with a resigned groan, throwing his arms wide and staring at the canopy of the bed. He had work to do, he knew he did. But the thought of leaving the room, where the last traces of you still lingered made him sick to his stomach.

"This is ridiculous" He growled, swiping his hand down his face, feeling the scruff of his beard rough against his palm.

"I am the great wolf, lord of winter and war. I will not be be laid low by-"

"I'm back!"

Leman and his wolves all jumped to their feet, hearing your voice as you slipped through the door. Kicking snow from your boots and pulling your thick cloak from off your head, you grinned, seeing the wolves and your primarch staring at you.

Freki and Geri got to your first, driving you to the ground with a high pitched yelp and slathering your face in hot spittle, their tongues swiping across every inch of skin they could reach. Their weight was heavy on your chest, pushing the air from your lungs they pinned you and nuzzled into you and howling.

Their joy was short lived as a massive hand reached into the fray and pulled you loose. lifting you over the wolves and setting you back down, you began to wipe the drool from your face on your cloak. Leman watched you, stony faced and scowling slightly with his arms folded across his broad chest. Finally getting clean, you tossed the cape aside and smiled, rubbing you hands across the two wolves head as they pressed their muzzles into your stomach.

"Hey" You grinned, rubbing between there ears and looking up at Russ. "How are my favourite boys"

"You left" Leman grumbled, his voice dangerously low.

you frowned, cocking your head to the side. "Leman i-"

He stepped towards you and in a burst of movement swept you up in his arms and buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

"You were gone for so long. I was worried something had happened to you"

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I was gone for an hour!"

He grumbled something unintelligible, holding you tighter.

"What was that?"

"I said, far. too. Long"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @kit-williams @iluminatka16 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @bookandyarndragon @thisuserislilsilly @absynthe-mind @saintsylestine

based on this:

[druidwolf21]

HE GOT HIS DADDIES HIPS

Look at him go

I MADE AN ANIMATION FOR THE FIRST TIME AND IT TURNED OUT REALLY REALLY GOOD IM SO HAPPY

[druidwolf21]

爱上狼王如呼吸般简单....

全图太大竟然发布上来，汤不热好菜啊

[druidwolf21]

imma level with y'all, i'm genuinely surprised no one has written sanguinius whump where his wings get cut off

[druidwolf21]

Abandoned.

Leman Russ/ Reader

Short and sweet!

No tw

A/N: Based on a comic I've included below by pigeon gazette.

@angronsjewelbeetle 👀👀 a lil somethin somethin fluffy

Leman paced back and forth, ignoring the foreign feeling of anxiety that grew in his gut and gnawed at the edges of his mind. Every sound had his ears pricking and his head spinning towards the door, just to be met with the heavy march of his marines or the softer steps of a serf passing by.

The wolfs frustration and unease grew with each passing moment. Your scent, once heavy and heady was now faint, hardly lingering upon the soft down pillow you rested your head on. The blankets had lost the warmth of your body and the hot tea beside the bed had long since stopped steaming, growing cold and congealing in the bottom of the mug. Lemans head dropped and he sank to the edge of the bed, his hand sweeping across the cold imprint where your body had lain. He sighed and dragged your favourite fur up to his nose, inhaling and biting back a whine upon finding your smell almost gone.

Still clutching the fur, Leman cast his eyes around the room. The fire had long since burnt low, its embers spitting and flickering pathetically as they grasped on to the last of the cindering timber. The candles placed around the room in wall mounted brackets had melted, dripping thick globules of wax down the tarnished brass and onto the floor. The only light in the room now was the cold light of the moon, seeping through the window, illuminating the bedroom with a cold silvered beam.

A whimper finally drew his attention and looked down. Laying on the floor, forlorn and aggrieved lay his pack brothers. Freki and Geri sprawled across the stone, huffing and groaning as they stared at the door.

"I know, but there's nothing I can do now...They're gone." Russ mumbled. The wolves snorted in reply, rolling their eyes and lolling their tongues out of toothed maws. Leman reached out to scruff his fingers across the wiry fur, feeling the low vibration of a whine building in the wolfs chest.

"You'll be ok" He rumbled. The wolf huffed and turned away, yellow eyes focused on the door.

Leman fell back across the bed with a resigned groan, throwing his arms wide and staring at the canopy of the bed. He had work to do, he knew he did. But the thought of leaving the room, where the last traces of you still lingered made him sick to his stomach.

"This is ridiculous" He growled, swiping his hand down his face, feeling the scruff of his beard rough against his palm.

"I am the great wolf, lord of winter and war. I will not be be laid low by-"

"I'm back!"

Leman and his wolves all jumped to their feet, hearing your voice as you slipped through the door. Kicking snow from your boots and pulling your thick cloak from off your head, you grinned, seeing the wolves and your primarch staring at you.

Freki and Geri got to your first, driving you to the ground with a high pitched yelp and slathering your face in hot spittle, their tongues swiping across every inch of skin they could reach. Their weight was heavy on your chest, pushing the air from your lungs they pinned you and nuzzled into you and howling.

Their joy was short lived as a massive hand reached into the fray and pulled you loose. lifting you over the wolves and setting you back down, you began to wipe the drool from your face on your cloak. Leman watched you, stony faced and scowling slightly with his arms folded across his broad chest. Finally getting clean, you tossed the cape aside and smiled, rubbing you hands across the two wolves head as they pressed their muzzles into your stomach.

"Hey" You grinned, rubbing between there ears and looking up at Russ. "How are my favourite boys"

"You left" Leman grumbled, his voice dangerously low.

you frowned, cocking your head to the side. "Leman i-"

He stepped towards you and in a burst of movement swept you up in his arms and buried his face in your neck, inhaling deeply.

"You were gone for so long. I was worried something had happened to you"

You laughed and wrapped your arms around his neck, pressing a kiss to his temple.

"I was gone for an hour!"

He grumbled something unintelligible, holding you tighter.

"What was that?"

"I said, far. too. Long"

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

Tags: @beckyninja @moodymisty @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @lemon-russ @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @incrediblethirst @kit-williams @iluminatka16 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @bookandyarndragon @thisuserislilsilly @absynthe-mind @saintsylestine

based on this:

[druidwolf21]

I AM BARKING AND BITING AND GNAWING AND BITING AND

BARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARKBARK

a gift for @druidwolf21 ... its fluffy because i couldnt help myself. Kicking off my event writings with a bang 🤭

Russ almost always starts by wrapping his arms around your waist, nuzzling your hair and making the loudest snort-huff into it you’ve ever heard,

He presses a kiss to your hair as you giggle before ducking down to huff against your neck, nosing at it with the tip of his inevitably cold nose, he smirks against your neck, just the barest brush of fangs you know are there,

One of his giant hands not-so-sneakily dips between the bottom of your shirt and your lower back, the tips of his claws just barely brushing your skin, making you shiver, 

He sighs deeply, inhaling your scent as he presses in closer, pulling away just slightly to lick his lips, tilting his head to scrub his stubble against your throat, just to feel you shiver and yelp at the scratchiness of it, 

Chuckling as his hand presses more insistently up between your shirt and bare skin, baring his fangs in a downright devilish grin, he murmurs something unintelligible against your throat, so deep you feel more than hear it, 

He brings you in closer to him, leaning back to drag you into resting your hands against his hairy, naked chest, he hums deep in his chest and you feel it like a rumble of thunder under your fingertips,

He removes his hand from your back, much to your chagrin, only to gently reach up and pull you in close, smiling as he hears your breath stutter, his smile only grows when you lean in to give his his battlescarred shoulder an ever-so-gentle, cherishing kiss… 

…and chuffs when you sink your teeth into the meat of it. His warm hand returns, one massive palm sliding up your back as his other wraps easily enough around your hip, and in a movement as smooth as a rolling wave, he drags you up against his lap, his cock hard beneath you, letting out an approving growl when you lean into it, 

He leans down, brushing your hair away from your ear as he moves in close, your teeth still sunk into his shoulder, his voice husky and his breath hot as he whispers “Harder,”.

When you inevitably oblige him, teeth pressing in sharply against his throat, he returns with a heated groan and sinks his own fangs into your shoulder to stifle it, his fat cock twitching under you.

[druidwolf21]

Damn you guys are horny

I have way too many things to put out:

[druidwolf21]

I am completely normal about this

What if instead of the Emperor of mankind he was called the FREAKperor of mankind. And instead of conquering humanity he f-

[druidwolf21]

SO PRETTY

[✏️] Drawing Oc's from Wh40K.

Eko — @floralynn-arts

I've been wanting to draw her for a while, I loved her design from the start!!

I'll probably end up drawing more of other people's Ocs because I really liked the designs!

✨💕

[druidwolf21]

How do the primarchs confess their feelings to the reader? (and maybe first kiss too)

aaahhh this idea is so cute i couldnt resist!

Hope you like it!

tw: mild jealous behaviour for some, possible dubious (but implied) consent for Konrad Curze (probably not, but better safe than sorry)

A/N: i went a little possessive with some of these, because we all want them to be a lil jealous. All gender neutral (hopefully, please let me know if i missed one!)

As always not proof read, it's too hot to think.

First kiss and Confessions of the primarchs

Lion El'Jonson

Lion El'jonson was not to be trifled with, either as a primarch or as a man. And when someone put their hands over what was his? There was going to be consequences.

The lion watched the governor press your knuckles to his lips and seethed, jaw clenched and blood boiling. You were his. who did this man think he was to put his filthy hands all over you.

It didn't matter that he hadn't told you all of this. You should know. Obviously.

Storming over towards, Lion gripped your shoulder and all but snarled at your would be suitor, relishing the mans abrupt and panicked departure. Watching the helm doors click shut, he turned to you with a scowl, finding you already frowning up at him.

"My Lord, how am I supposed to do my job if you keep scaring everyone off"

"He was too familiar. I didn't like how he touched you"

You rolled your eyes, gently shrugging his hand off your shoulder.

"I'm sorry you feel that way, my lord. But part of my job is dealing with people like him"

"I don't like it. He should keep his hand off what isn't his"

You scoffed, lions eyes narrowing as you raised an eye brow at him.

"what isn't his? You make it sound like I belong to you"

"You do"

You froze. Watching with bated breath, the primarch knelt before you and took your jaw in his hand, squeezing your cheeks between calloused fingers. His lips hovered inches from yours and you felt his warm breath against your skin.

"You are mine" He muttered, closing the distance. "All mine."

Fulgrim

"You look radiant"

Fulgrim took a seat in a chair and beamed at you as you spun, wearing the new shirt he had gifted you, His legions colours in soft silk and gilded thread sat snuggly across your chest, showing a little more skin than you would normally be comfortable with.

"It fits you splendidly" he mused, leaning toward you and tugging the seams, nodding to himself. "And the colour does look very good on you"

You shuffled nervously, feeling his violet eyes raking up and down your frame. "But something is still missing. Ah!"

He reached into a pocket, pulling out a delicate golden chain, the primarchs winged sigil dangling from it. He moved closer, his breath ghosting the top of your head as he reached behind you to fasten the chain.

"I am very grateful, but don't you think its a bit much?"

Fulgrim paused, his fingers stilling just above the nape of your neck.

"what do you mean?"

"Oh, please don't think I'm being rude, I love it! its just... its a lot, just to give all of this to me. people might get the wrong idea"

"and what idea is that"

Heat rose in your face as Fulgrim's lips brushed you ear in a whisper

"w-well walking around in your colours, with your crest people might think that we're...that I'm"

"That you're mine?"

Fulgrim laughed as you blushed, placing his hands on your cheeks he tilted your face up towards him.

"I wouldnt mind if people thought that" He hummed, passing his thumb over your lip. "Would you?"

You shook your head.

"No" you breathed, closing your eyes and losing yourself in the kiss. "No I wouldn't"

Perturabo

"What are you doing"

You jumped, hearing Perturabo's voice echo through his work shop, reverberating around the metal walls before the room fell silent again.

"Forgive me, I was sorting this for you."

You gestured towards the work bench, rolls of blue prints and schematics neatly stacked in three different piles. Under his taciturn watch, you explained.

"One pile for in progress, one for under construction and one for completed"

Perturabo continued to stare at the neatened work top, eyes silently casting over the bench and then to you

"Why did you do this"

"I wanted to help"

Perturabo's brow creased in a frown. A muscle in his jaw twitched and suddenly he was striding towards you. Your face remained calm, but your body tensed, wanting to run when he scruffed you and sat you on the worktop.

"Where do you find the gall to meddle with my work" he growled, placing his hands either side of your hips and leaning in close. The smell of hot iron lingered on his skin, filling your nose.

"No matter how many times I, have you removed, you keep crawling back into my workshop, I've had men killed for less"

You looked the primarch straight in his eye, holding his heavy gaze and smiled.

"I know, my lord"

"Then what makes you think you're so special?"

You shook your head. "I don't think that my lord, i just-"

He cut you off midsentence, his voice dropping low "Because id love to know what is so special about you, that I keep allowing it"

"Do you...want me here?" you whispered.

Every thought left your head as Perturabo captured you lips, the kiss was heated and as forceful as the primarch himself, leaving you breathless and winded when he finally pulled back.

"You may return tomorrow" he coughed, turning from you and loosing himself in his work, regaining his composure despite the faint pink blushing his cheeks.

"Of course, my lord" You bowed, hiding the smile breaking out across your face and practically skipping from the workshop.

Jaghatai Khan

Oil dripped from your hand is thick iridescent globs, pooling at your feet. You dragged the back of your hand across your forehead and closed the small hatch on the side of the bike.

"I could have done this myself"

You turned, watching Jaghatai approach you and wave off other serfs. He stopped beside you and leant down, running his finger along the fresh weld.

"It is an impressive repair. Almost unnoticeable"

"Thank you, Lord Khan"

He smirked at you "But I still could have done this myself"

"I know, my lord. But if I let you do everything you wanted to, id be out of a job."

Jaghatai laughed, throwing his leg over the jet bike and testing the balance. He nodded approvingly and looked back at you.

"You always do fine work for me, you are a fine mechanic" He looked at you and then quickly returned his gaze to the bike. "And I enjoy your company"

Your heart jumped in your chest. "I enjoy your company too, My lord Jaghatai"

"Do you now"

His eyes remained firmly locked on the chassis of his bike as he replied, picking at something on the metal casing. You frowned and stepped forward, concerned you had made an error in the repairs.

As you reached out to run your finger along the metal, the khans hand shot out, gripping your wrist and pulling you up on the boke, straddling his lap.

One hand still clasping your wrist, the other caressed your cheek, tilting your face up to look at him. His lips brushed yours and you sighed into the kiss, your hands gripping his thighs for balance.

"Shall we go for a ride?" he whispered against your mouth.

You nodded, leaning in to deepen the kiss again "Absolutely."

Leman Russ

You watched, leaning on the wall in a a darkened alcove as tribesmen and warriors bustled past you, preparing weapons and armour for their departure. Leman stood towering over them, deep in conversation with the strange man clad in golden armour. After a moment, the stranger from the stars nodded and left, taking his shimmering, spear wielding guards with him.

Lemans blue eyes followed him, before casting about the room and alighting on you. You tilted your head in greeting and watched through a frown as he parted his army to approach you.

"I guess you're leaving then" you nodded towards the commotion and pushing yourself off the wall. "You're leaving Fenris?"

Leman nodded, rubbing his chin thoughtfully. "Aye, I am"

"I see. When will you be back?"

"I don't know"

You nodded, silently seething before replying.

"So you're leaving the rest of us behind?"

You made to push past the wolf king, jumping when you felt his calloused palm lock around your upper arm.

"I'm not leaving you" He growled, blue eyes gleaming at you in the dark.

"You are" You hissed "You're leaving us behind on the word of someone you don't even know"

"No, I'm not leaving you" He dropped to a knee, spinning you and forcing you to face him. "I am not leaving you here. Come with me"

"What"

"I want you to come along with me."

Leman pulled you forward, his lips crashing into yours and his hands clasping around your body. Distantly, you could here the whooping of tribesman, but all you could think about was how soft his touch was despite his battle hardened exterior.

Breaking the kiss, Leman pressed his forehead to yours an inhaled deeply before puffing out a hot breath that hung in the air.

"Please?" he muttered "Say you'll come"

Rogal dorn

Rogal Dorn was a stoic man. His brothers knew it, his sons knew it. He was as unyielding as the very walls of terra. So then why did every sly grin from you, every quite chuckle and stolen glance send every thought spinning out of his head and leave his firm hands shaking.

And when he watched another serf put his hand on your shoulder, he felt like the walls of his own unconquerable fortresses had been torn down to rubble.

No this wouldnt do at all.

That night, you slipped past his guard with a soft smile bearing fresh paper for his schematics and chiming data slates with pics and messages chiming on the fuzzy screen.

"The items you requested, Lord Dorn" you bowed. Placing the pile on his desk you blinked up at him, flushing as you found his gaze locked on to you. "Excuse me, my lord"

"No. You are not excused"

Dorn's voice rang clear in the quiet of of his workspace. not rising from his seat, he gestured you towards him, his eyes trailing you up and down.

"My lord? Have I displeased you?" Your voice shook slightly, but your back remained straight and unbowed, staring straight back at the primarch.

"I am displeased"

He raised his hand, hesitating for a split second before settling on taking your hand in his own. You stood frozen, completely thrown out at his hesitation and softness.

"I am displeased, because every time I see you I cannot think straight. Every time someone else touches you, I feel rage I cannot understand" He paused for a breath, squeezing your fingers before continuing "I am the Praetorian of terra, and yet I find myself distracted by thoughts of you. I find every defence I have ever raised brought low by your voice"

Breathless, you felt his hand slowly climb your arm, skating along your shoulder before gripping your chin.

"I don't not know how to do this." He muttered, leaning down towards you "But I know that I want you. Tell me what to say to make you mine"

"I am yours" you sighed, wrapping your arms around his neck as the kiss sent warmth through your body.

Konrad Kurze

confidence is key you told yourself, walking through the halls of the Nightfall and ignoring the haunting wails that echoed through the bowels of the ship. Night lord astartes watched you pass, the seal on their helms hissing as they turned to glare at your frail form. They cocked their heads, listening to something before slinking away snarling at each other.

confidence is key you told yourself as you turned and found yourself facing a hall with no lighting, darkness completely enveloping the corridor. Taking a deep inhale and steeling yourself, Back straight and eyes forward, you stepped forward and allowed the dark to consume you.

"Confidence is key" came the whisper in the gloom, cold hands gripping your shoulders, spooking you. "And you seem very confident"

You gasped feeling the night haunters breath ghosting your neck and his thin fingers brushing along your arms before vanishing.

"You scared me, My lord Kurze"

He remained silent. You knew he was there, you could feel him somewhere in the dark watching you. You waited, for what felt like a life time, until you doubted your instincts. Then he finally spoke.

"You have not visited me for a while, little serf. Have you grown bored of your Primarch?"

His voice was teasing, but you could sense a bite behind them.

"Not at all, My lord. Unfortunately I have had other duties that have kept me from your company"

"Hmm. I shall have those duties assigned to someone else"

His hand was suddenly on the back of your head, tilting your face upwards. His breath was warm on your cheeks and you grinned manically as his grip tightened.

confidence is key

"My brave little serf" He cooed from the dark "How I have missed your company."

"And I yours, my lord"

Konrad paused, flexing his fingers on your skin, considering your words.

"Did you?" He muttered. "Did you....Miss me"

You tangled your hands through his long dark hair, relying on touch alone to draw his head towards you. You pressed your lips to his in a chaste kiss, smirking when he pushed into the embrace.

"Mine" He rumbled into the kiss, grapsing at your body. "You are mine"

Sanguinius

"You look...amazing"

You blushed at the angels words. Smoothing the long robe and pulling the hood up around your head to shield you form the heat of baal, you turned and looked in the mirror.

"Thank you, Sanguinius. I hope my new husband thinks so too"

The reflection of his face changed slightly; a scowl creasing his handsome face before he smothered it with an easy smile. He knelt down behind you and tweaked the robe, straightening a crease from its length

"If he doesn't he's an idiot. I will tell him so myself."

You laughed and turned, wrapping your arms around his neck and nuzzling into him.

Sanguinius knelt unmoving, before reluctantly returning you hug. His breaths came sharper and you felt his hands twitch on your shoulder and waist. You stayed in his embrace, smelling the wind in his hair and feeling the warmth of his body on your own until the bell tolled, signalling the wedding procession.

You made to pull back, finding yourself pinned against him.

"Sanguinius i-"

"Don't do this" he whispered, clutching you to him. "Don't go with him"

"I don't understand"

"Be mine" He pulled you away finally and holding you at arms length.

"I love you." His eyes blazed as he looked at you. "I need you."

His lips crashed into yours before you could speak, his usual softness gone, replaced by fevered desperation to convey what he feared his words could not. You sank into the kiss, loosing yourself and you felt him soften with you.

"I'm yours"

Ferrus manus

You huffed at the screw, scowling when it refused to tighten any further. The palm of your hand was red with the effort of gripping the screwdriver and your fingers ached with the exertion, but still you fiddled and tweaked.

"What are you doing?"

The screw driver clattered to the ground and you squeaked, turning to find Ferrus scowling at the disregard to his tools. With a low groan, you slid from your chair and reached down to pick it back up.

"I was just fiddling" you replied sheepishly.

Ferrus covered the distance to you in an easy step and grabbed you wrist, twisting you hand upwards and staring at the raw skin. His steely eyes flicked between your palm and the workbench before releasing you.

You shrugged off the contact and made your way back towards the table, lifting your creation up to show him. A small pendant, simple and silver, hanging from a ceramite chain. The gorgon took it in his hand and turned it over before going to hand it back to you. You shook your head and reached towards it, taping a small button on the side. A hologram popped up, showing the planet of Medusa and its surrounding stars.

"You made this?" he rumbled, tracking the spinning solar system in his hand.

"Yes. For you"

"I see"

His face remained passive and you panicked.

"Oh i know its not very good. I dont have your talent, my lord. I just thought-"

The breath was pushed from your lungs as ferrus picked you up and sat you on the workbench, towering over you and pressing his lips to yours as his silvered hands caged you in. You squeaked and then relaxed, the familiar smell of molten metal lingered on his skin and the taste of salt on his tongue.

He finally broke the kiss and pulled back, leaving you dazed.

"Don't push yourself for me again" he growled, looking back down at the pendant still in his grasp and you watched him slip the chain over his head and stash it beneath his apron. Finally looking back at you, he softened.

"We'll do it together next time"

Angron

Angron's hand smashed into the wall, denting the steel and causing it to groan under the impact. He roared and raised his fist, hammering into the metal again. Behind him he could hear the fleeing footsteps of serfs as they bolted from the room in panic, no doubt whispering warnings and curses about him.

"Angron is losing it"

"Angron is a monster"

"Angron is an animal"

"He is needs to be put down. He needs-"

"Fresh towels, and clean water. you, bring bandages, NOW!"

Your voice cut through the bite of the nails, pulling him out of the red mist he found himself ensnared in. You stood to the side, pointing and shouting orders, grabbing serfs as they ran past.

His little serf, so loyal. Always right there to bandage up his wounds and soothe the angry shrieks of the neural implants eating away at his humanity.

His chest tightened and he stilled, feeling the fury ebb out of his body, leaving him tired, but calm. You glanced over, noticing the silence and rushed to his side, ushering the remaining servants out.

"My lord its ok, im here. what do you need"

"You-" he croaked, his voice cracking. "You are still here"

you cocked your head, curious. "Of course i am"

"Why"

You considered your words carefully before responding.

"Because...you need me."

Angron reached for you, brushing his finger along the line of your jaw and down your throat, nodding to himself.

"I need you..."

You lurched forward suddenly when he snagged the front of your shirt and pulled you towards him. His eyes were wild as he hooked his hands under your arms and pressed your back to the wall, your head inches from the dent in the hull. You reached a trembling hand to his face and held his cheek.

"Yes" You whispered "You need someone to look after you. You're not a monster, Angron"

His mouth was on you in a second, inexperienced and still flushed with adrenaline, the kiss was messy and heated. But deeper he pushed, the quieter the nails were.

and you were so soft in his hands.

"Yes, yes i need you"

Roboute Guilliman

Cato Sicarius was certain of many things. One: that he was the best damn fighter in the Ultramarines. Two: That the glory of the imperium and Ultramar came before all else. And three: That he had NO idea what was going on in his Primarch's head.

He stood stock straight at his genefathers side, helmet tucked to his side and bolter and blade holstered watching with mild concern as Guilliman paced back and forth. Cato marvelled at the strength of the marble floor, surprised there wasn't a deep furrow from the lords constant footfall.

"Tell me Cato, what would you do in my position."

The marine snapped to attention, frowning slightly at the question.

"My lord?"

Guilliman leant on his desk and sighed, rubbing his temples.

"If you had to choose between providing information that could drastically improve a situation, or render it completely void with no chance of reconciliation, what would you do"

Cato considered the question, looking for any hidden meaning behind it. Finding none, he shrugged and answered.

"My lord If I may speak frankly, a chance of improving any situation should be grasped with both hands. Those who choose otherwise are not worthy of your time nor effort"

The primarch seemed genuinely surprised at the marines answer, mulling over his response. They stood in silence for a moment longer before a sharp knock at the door interrupted. Sicarius watched as decades of stress and age left his lord face, Roboute perking up at the noise.

"Cato you may leave, send them in on your way out"

Cato flashed the aquilla across his chest and made for the door, propping it open as the little baseline hurried past him with a radiant smile.

"Thank you, Lord Sicarius" you beamed, stepping under his arm.

Cato chuffed, making his exit and trying to smother his ego as you congratulated him on his many battle merits.

"He'll need a new helmet if his head gets any bigger" chuckled Guiliman, pulling you up a chair.

You laughed and took a seat "Oh leave him be" you stifled your laugh and looked at Roboute "Its nice to see you laughing. it does me good to see you looking happier"

The thirteenth froze, halfway through pouring you a glass of wine, shaking himself from the sudden weight he felt at your words, he handed you the glass.

"I suppose I am happier.."

He held your gaze, hoping you would catch his meaning and put him out of his misery. Instead you sipped your glass before placing it down beside you.

"Good, I want you to be happy"

a chance of improving any situation should be grasped with both hands

Steeling himself he knelt in front of you, grabbing your hand and holding it between both of his massive ones. He looked you in the eye, ignoring the startled look jumping across your face and braced.

"I'm happier because I have you" he blurted, heat building in his cheeks, matching the own pink staining your face. "I love you and I want this to be more than it is and I want to do this properly-"

He was cut off as you kissed him, the taste of sweet wine on your tongue sent his body into overdrive, your fingers locking into his blonde crop to pull him towards you.

"Just kiss me already, Roboute"

Mortarion.

"Its ok, i know it hurts but we're nearly done"

Mortarion paused outside the door, listening to your voice float through the cracks. Peering through the gap, he watched you wrap a bandage around the young girls hand and then kiss her knuckles.

"See? All better. You're so brave!"

The child laughed and slid from the medic table. Mortarion watched the girls mother grab your hands and thank you, tears in her eyes when you pressed a medical bundle into her hand with a smile.

Pulling back, the primarch gripped his chest, feeling an odd tension behind his ribs when he watched you pick up another child and swing them around before setting them on the table and pulling more wraps free. Suddenly, as though sensing his presence, you turned towards the door, catching a glimpse of him as he ducked away.

"I'll be back in just a moment, you stay here" You tapped the child on the nose and walked towards mortarion, slipping through the door and closing it quietly behind you.

"My lord, did you need me for something? If you are injured I can come and attend you in your quarters like I always do" you stepped towards him, blinking up at him looking for fresh wounds.

"No I am not injured"

Your eyes moved to his hand, still laid on his chest.

"IS it your chest? Take a seat, Let me listen" Before he could protest, you ushered him onto a bed, ignoring the bunks groan under the primarchs sheer size.

"Really i am-" Mortarions heart began thundering behind his ribcage as you pressed your ear to his chest, your small fingers locked around his wrist monitoring his pulse.

"Your heartrate is up" you murmured "Is something bothering you?"

"You are" he cracked, the words coming out shorter than he intended.

"Forgive me, Lord. I didnt realise i was bothering you"

"No i just mean" he stumbled over his words before grabbing your shoulders and pulling you into a kiss. His breath was hot on your skin and he trembled slightly when your lips moved against his. Breaking free for air, you gasped at the pale king, sitting dumbstruck on the medbed.

"is...that... what was bothering you?"

He nodded, reaching for you again and recoiling at his own actions.

"I have...wanted to do that for some time" He placed his hand back over his hearts. "It feels...good"

You reached up and cupped his cheeks with both your hands, gently pulling him back towards you.

"Then I should do it again" you whispered, going in for another kiss "Doctors orders"

Magnus

You reread the note in your hand, watching the ink swirl around the yellowed page.

Meet me in the library. Midnight. Come alone.

A hand alighted on your shoulder and you shrieked, smothering your mouth with your palm as you spun away from the contact.

Magnus chuckled, reaching for you again.

"Did I make you jump" he mused, his eye twinkling in the filtered moonlight seeping through the arching doors of the balcony.

"You know you did" you huffed, clutching your chest like your heart was threatening to jump out. "did you drag me out of bed just to scare me?"

"Of course not, I have a matter of great importance I need to discuss with you"

Taking your hand, he led you out to the balustrade.

"Magnus its too cold out here to-"

Your voice was lost as you looked up at the night sky. Blue, purples and greens danced across the stars in a swathe of ethereal light, painting the streets of Tzica in a curtain of ethereal colour.

"Oh Magnus its beautiful"

Magnus put his hand on your shoulder and pulled you close to him, watching your eyes light up with every flash of new light.

"Be mine"

"what?" you looked up at him, at the easy smile playing across his face and the wind dancing through his scarlet hair.

"This is all for you. I will do this for you every night. I will paint the sky in whatever colours you desire. I will bend worlds for you, give you things you cant even imagine"

"You don't need to do all of that Magnus"

The primarchs smile faded slightly, confusion apart on his face.

"I would do anything for you" he pressed. "I can give you whatever you desire-"

you laid your hand over his and squeezed.

"I just want you"

Magnus picked you up and pulled you close, the heat of his kiss pushing the night chill from your body as he held you beneath the painted sky of Tzica.

Horus Lupercal

Horus was the epitome of confidence, strolling up to you and casually taking your hand like he had known you for years.

well, he had. But things had changed. In the 4 years since you had last seen him, Horus had risen to warmaster. Gaining fame and glory in the name of the imperium, he had grown larger than life.

And yet.

When he had returned for you; taking your hand so softly between his, kissing your knuckles and smiling that same self assured grin he always had, maybe not much has changed at all. He was still your best friend, the same mane you knew.

But for Horus, everything had changed.

4 years apart had done nothing to quell the need for you that coiled in his gut. And Horus was a conqueror, when he wanted something, he took it.

"Horus, what is this?"

You had entered his chambers to find the lighting dark, illuminated instead by the low flickering light of candles upon a laden table. Meats and fruits sprawled across the surface and a pitcher of wine sat in the middle. At one end sat Horus, grinning at you over the rim of a goblet.

"I'm winning you over, isn't it obvious" He laughed, rising to his feet to pull out your chair. It was so infectious you found yourself chuckling back.

"You've already won me over" you allowed him to help you into your seat.

"Not in the way i want" his voice was low, whispered into your ear as he bent and tucked your chair in. Shivers crawled up your spine and a pleasant warmth bloomed in your body at his words.

"Oh? and what do you want" you cooed back, falling into his flirtation far to easily.

"You" he shot back, relishing how easily you became flustered.

"Do you plan on conquering me, war master"

It was Horus turn to pause, his smile spreading as he pulled the chair back out and spun it, pushing the chair onto its back legs as he balanced his hand on the back rest and lent close.

"Perhaps I do" he purred "Unless you are ready to discuss the terms of your surrender"

"And what would those be?"

The taste of fine wine and gunpowder coated your tongue as Horus silenced you with a kiss. It was, as all things the war master does, far too perfect and far to easy to fall into, his tongue running along your lip before he pulled back.

"I like these terms, war master"

Lorgar

"This is far too much, Lorgar"

Lorgar slumped, holding the book of poems and litanies in his hand. Written inside were works dedicated to you, his love for you, what he would do for you.

"What is wrong with them" he cracked, gesturing for you to take them again "This is for you, its all for you"

You shuffled backwards, shaking your head.

"Lorgar its too much, i dont want this"

The primarch fell to his knees before you, reaching for you, only to stop himself before he could brush against your skin. He stared at you like a holy icon, something so tantalisingly within reach, but to profound to grasp.

"Nothing is too much for you" he whispered "Nothing will ever be too much for you"

you stepped towards hi, reaching out and tracing along the intricate tattoos across his face. He shuddered under your touch, fer and euphoria alighting on his face.

Tell me what you want, I will give you anything, everything"

"I just want you, Lorgar. Only you"

You gestured to the scattered pages littering the floor around you.

"I dont need any of this."

"Then what?"

"Kiss me

Lorgar was on you in a breath, hands trembling as they gripped your body and his lips pressing into yours with delicate restraint, holding himself back from desire he considered to base to indulge, but all to willing to dive into at your demand.

"Take me, lorgar. Make me yours"

Vulkan

Vulkan watched quietly as you tidied around his forge, sweeping old ash and molten metal into a neat pile before moving on to organising his tools. Half were far to heavy, too long or too cumbersome for you to carry, but still you persevered.

Great care was taken with everything you did. Delicate hands polishing the dust from his anvil, refilling his oils and checking the stock of his ore. A list was laid on the side, your hand writing gradually filling the page as you made a note of everything his was low on.

A contended warmth grew in the salamanders chest, making his chest and throat feel tight. His fingers itched, aching to hold you close, to show you the same care you showed to the hammer that shaped his swords as you ran your fingers over it, checking for damage.

He'd watched you do this for weeks now, quietly slipping from your bunk to attend to his workshop when you thought no one would see you. Each time left him feeling like a secret shard. But as your visits. continued, so did the feeling in his chest.

The first time he had approached you had left you weak at the knees and fearful, but each night you relaxed a little more and each night Vulkan left feeling like he was closer to something that left him feeling hotter than his forge.

"How long have you done this?"

You jumped, reeling as the primarch emerged from the shadow.

"My lord i didnt see you there. I should expect you after all this time, but you still make me jump."

HE shook his head, asking again "how long have you been doing this? cleaning up, checking my inventory?"

"Only a few hours, my lord"

"I meant in general"

You shook your head "I couldn't say, Lord Vulkan. One day i passed and noticed you were low on Prometheum. I had a barrel brought up and from there..." You faded off.

"You've been keeping it filled for me" He rumbled, running his hand along the polished anvil. "And expecting nothing in return? why?"

"Because its for you"

The quiet smile on your face left the primarch feeling weak, his chest tightening again. His crimson eyes burned into you, but you stood firm, ignoring your body as it screamed at you to cow beneath his Prescence. He knelt in front of you and brushed a piece of iron lint from your shoulder, warm hands brushing across your jaw as he reach out. He froze, feeling your own feeble warmth beneath his burning temperature, feeling the softness of your skin beneath the callous of his knuckles and felt his restrain snap.

Before he could think, he had pulled you against him, bringing your face up to his and capturing your lips. the kiss was soaked in burning desire, hot and heavy he left you panting beneath his touch.

"Let me know you more" he whispered, sliding his hand down your back. "Let me know all of you

Corvus Corax

"Its just the dark, its just the dark. There's nothing to be afraid of"

You whimpered to yourself, edging your way along the dark bowels of the shadow of the emperor. The ship groaned and creaked in the vast expanse of space, but offered no reprieve.

"Its just the dark its fine, you're ok" You continued to babble, trying to stem the tears that had begun to flow down your cheeks.

You hadnt meant to get so lost, but the ship was dark and the jump from the immaterium into real space had left your sense smothered and confused.

"Help me" you croaked, collapsing to your knees and sobbing. "Help me please"

"I'm here"

Corvus' voice sounded behind you, and you lurched to your feet groping outwards until his hand closed around yours. With a choked cry, you fell into him, nuzzling against his stomach.

"Corvus!" you wailed "Corvus you came for me, i was so scared"

"I know" his tone was low, gentle as he consoled you, running his hand along the top of your head "When i saw you were gone, i had to come find you. i had to know you were safe"

"Please don't leave me" you cried into him.

"I wont. I wont ever leave you"

He sank to the floor with you, clutching you to his chest and allowing you to cry in the dark, smearing your tears into his cloak. The steady tump thump thump of his hearts and the smell of fresh ink gradually soothed you and you slowly hiccupped yourself into silence.

"I meant it" Corvus spoke, breaking the peaceful quiet. "I wont leave you. Ever. If you want me. If you will have me."

His long hair tickled your skin as you tilted your head up, finding his lips already waiting for you. His kiss was soft, gentle and quiet as the night, leaving your head spinning and your heart settled. After claiming your lips, he kissed the tears from your cheeks.

"Im always here"

Alpharius/Omegon

"You should eat" you placed the tray down on the table beside the primarch "It wont do anyone any good if you waste away.

Alpharius glanced at you before looking away.

"I have already eaten" He gestured to the empty plate sitting next to the fresh tray.

"No, your brother has eaten, you havent"

Alpharius grinned at you, watching you roll your eyes exasperated.

"How can you be so sure"

"I know you" you replied simply, pouring him a glass and offering it to him alongside a small plate "Now please? At least have something"

"You are a marvel" he laughed, taking the goblet and quaffing it in one swift mouthful. "I think you're the only one to tell the difference"

"Its not that hard" You shrugged, "you're both so different"

"Oh?"

You nodded.

"Omegon has a sweet tooth, you prefer savoury. Omegon sit a particular way in that chair, but you recline back more. Your smile is softer than your brothers, it reaches your eyes-"

You stopped yourself, blushing furiously.

Alpharius cocked his head and grabbed your wrist, pulling you to straddle him in his chair, the plate falling to the floor with a clatter.

"You know me so well" He sighed, his mouth pressed to your ear like he was whispering a secret.

"Maybe i should get to know you?"

You squirmed, heat rushing around your body as the door opened and Omegaon slipped in. The twin took one look at the precarious situation you found yourself and grinned.

"Oh, we've decided to make a move, have we?"

You glanced between them "Wh-what?"

"Ive seen how you look at us" Alpharius laughed.

"Seen the way your eyes linger" continued Omegon, moving behind the chair and grabbing your chin to look at him.

"We want to know you better"

Omegon's lips brushed yours, tenderly, teasing as his brothers mouth found your throat. You gasped and Omegaon released you, only to find yourself pulled into a kiss by Alpharius. Firmer, more dominating, his tongue pushing in to taste you.

When he finally released you, you head was reeling. The Brothers laughed and you gazed between them from beneath wet lashes.

"Lets see what other differences you can find..."

Tags:Tags: @beckyninja@moodymisty@jaghatai-khock@echo-of-damnation@laura-naruto-fan1998@lemon-russ@astrohymn@gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan@incrediblethirst@kit-williams@iluminatka16@cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond@bookandyarndragon@thisuserislilsilly@vithralith@absynthe-mind@saintsylestine @meervalv0 @ilisteria

[druidwolf21]

Summary: As your work as scribe-lawyer in Cardrean intensifies, both you and Xavier can't get each other out of their heads. This is bound to end badly

Genre: Drama/fluff/slice-of-life/SMUT/ DUBIOUS CON/NON-CON

TW: Foul language, violence, usage of drugs, DUBIOUS CON/NON-CON/TOXIC RELATIONSHIP/READ AT YOUR OWN RISK BE CAREFUL

Pairing: You x Xavier (Cardrean gang member)

Goblin tag squad: @cardinalcanis @finchly-tintinnabulation @artemisareia

@echo-of-damnation @meervalv0 @jaghatai-khock

@druidwolf21 @beckyninja @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

@absynthe-mind @sylestine-redacted @saintsylestine

@xx-rabidpossum-xx @justeverythingnothingelse

Prev

Hate to love you

The incident of that accidental meeting with the High Axe had slipped from your mind under the piles of work you still needed to do. For as much as you had convinced yourself those kind of documents and ceremonies wouldn't be a common thing for you from now on, it seemed as so the Concord had gotten an eye on the fact that your peace treaty with the two gangs had been one of the few events that hadn't ended I a bloodbath between the two sides; they hadn't even gotten any more complaints about that subject since your intervention in it, which meant that slowly but surely more and more peace negotiations and signings of deals started to come by your desk on the Tower, to the point you had reluctantly accepted your fate of dealing with the "lowlives" of the gangs from now on.

The job had left you with one upside though, more free time for yourself since your new position left you with so much stress on your shoulders. That day you had found yourself lying in bed, reading some data slate about the Yarish trade wars that had occurred about two millennia ago because you had to understand the trade of said hallucinogenic flower for an incoming arrangement you needed to settle between the Houses of Nobles that handled the "legal" distribution of the drug. It was kind of interesting, despite the crude and touchy subject of your reading; the First Yarish trade war lasted six brutal years of nothing but combat over who controlled the cultivation and distribution of the psychoactive plant, yet the aftermath with the involvement of the Concord to legalize the plant and control the distribution rights allowed for Yarish to become some sort of cornerstone in their culture. The plant passed to be currency, part of their meals or ingredient in their dishes, at some strange point it became a reflection of Cardrean people just as much as any other sacred item or folklore tale, something that was entirely theirs.

You were already by the sixth slide of the datasheet, the one with a particularly raw holopictures of the riots and actions of the four gangs, when you heard a knock on the door. Sighing, you grabbed whatever shirt you had close to the bed, disregarding the formal robes of your profession and getting some skinny pants to wander around the house.

"Coming!" Your voice came slightly deeper than your normal tone due to how long you had been silent in your apartment

Adjusting your hair into a little knot in the back of your head, you nonchalantly opened the door without too much attention as to who was waiting from the other side; you thought it was Esmah, your friend who you had agreed to meet up later to go to a local disco, arriving early to maybe gossip about the cute guys she had met in her job or one of the million of events that could happen in the trains connecting the sectors of the Hive. Although the silence and sudden burst of energy that came from the other side made your entire body to experience goosebumps.

Without as a hello, Xavier pressed his whole body in the door as soon as you unlocked it; the Axe had a smile upon his face, his yellowed teeth showing in all of the little splendor they could have, there were a few ones missing at the back of his mouth due to the countless fights he had been on his life. Something that could and should had put out of your mind the idea of being close to him, but you couldn't lie...the broad shoulders and chest compensated whatever bad hygiene due to the Hive's conditions he could had.

"I missed you" He said in a whisper, helping to pick you up and not letting go.

You noticed the change, how the help turned to be possession, to be a prison that locked you in place like a predator would corner their prey to the last moment; in a blink of an eye he kissed you, deeply, introducing his tongue on your mouth and moving it at every inch of your inside. It was good, too good for your mind to connect the dots and know this was wrong, but you couldn't pull out, not yet, you wanted to be tasted just a bit longer.

He advanced on you, pinning you to the wall right next to the door, slamming it to have some privacy and then starting to pry upon your clothes. He hadn't even said hello, not even a hint of just preparing you for it; it was so raw you were left there standing speechless as your top flew across the room, then your bottoms with a guttural growl coming from his throat. He persisted in the kiss every time you tried to pull away to collect your mind and your clothes.

His head started to go lower, kisses coming with some bite in them, like he was just one of the many beasts of the world and wanted to have his way with you; that unstoppable force, that acknowledgement of the inevitable washed over you and gasps escaped from your mouth. His name was a prayer in your lips, a contradiction that wanted to make the man stop but also encouraging him to go deeper and go hard on your pussy. Hands tangled with all of the hair you could grasp and directed the man to your most sensitive areas; he did not needed an indication, a word of encouragement or anything else.

You felt the man yank you by the thighs, how his face completely buried itself in your lower body and then the most hauntingly painful bliss you could've imagined came to your nerves. He wasn't pleasing you, he was pleasing himself with bites, with his nails digging into your skin and drawing some blood, how he unceremoniously introduced his tongue in the most unapologetic and invasive way possible. It was in the blurry line between pleasure and actual pain, you felt your body torn in two as you wanted to have some moment of gentleness, of kindness, by the Emperor all you wanted to ask for was a second to collect your feelings and if this was in any shape or form right, if this was something you should had been pushing off from you and going for a gun.

It was not romantic, but neither was done in a respective way; the way he growled, he gasped for just enough air to have in his lungs but not letting too much time pass as to make the feelings go away, how he still had certain boundaries only known to him that he did not cross. It was caring, in a twisted sort of way, because, you realized, that was the only way he knew how to do it.

"XAVIER-!" You finally screeched, breathless and exhausted

"Shut it, you know you wanted this to happen" He finally pulled away, looking up at you like a emberhound ready to pounce "You wanted this too, since the first moment you saw me, since I couldn't stop appearing in your dreams, come on, just admit it so we can stop pretending and just do it!"

His voice was deep, breathless as he stared you up and down, biting his bottom lip just at the sight of the mess both of you were at that moment. By the Throne he hadn't even started with you yet it already felt much more than any other experience he ever had with others; High Axes weren't exactly "adepts" at having sexual encounters with each others and had way too many codes for basically anything that could amount to relationships; his previous relationship with a Sister, although way too intense, it had meant merely a transactional relationship for the woman, she just needed to get pregnant as to carry the next in her "lineage" and basically had forced the intercourse to happen with him for then later completely ditch Xavier as soon as that rush was over. But you....you were real, you felt it when he touched you, your body recoiled, moved, reacted to his every move that had been learnt by his past experiences; he had treated you like just another opportunity to have a relationship, but you were genuine.

That, that was different. Gentle, delicate, meaning no harm to him or wanting to take advantage of anything he could be of use.

"I..." He blinked, the realization of your recoil sent his thoughts on a turmoil

"Just get out...." You mumbled, then grasping at some internal valor you threw a pillow at him "Get out!!!!!"

Xavier didn’t move at first. Not when the pillow bounced off his chest, not when your voice cracked with the heat of fury barely keeping your tears at bay. He just stood there, a statue of muscle and rage and want, breathing hard, eyes blinking in rapid succession like something in his head had misfired and he was only now registering the full blow of how you had taken his advances.

Now he looked small. Not weak, but disarmed. And that made you even angrier, because you could feel your body still buzzing from his touch, still aching in all the wrong ways, still begging in the most shameful corners of your mind for more; seeing him so confused just reflected the inner war within you, the one over why had you liked and wanted this.

He opened his mouth, shut it. Opened it again.

“I-I didn’t mean to…” he mumbled, voice far too soft, as if the thing he had just done was a spilled drink and not a boundary torn apart.

You grabbed the nearest jacket within reach and shoved it into his chest. “I said get out.”

Xavier stumbled backward a step, gripping the jacket, jaw clenching like he was about to bite through it. His eyes searched yours again, but you had nothing left to give.

“Fine,” he spat, turning on his heel like a kicked dog trying to act like he hadn’t been hurt.

The silence after was unbearable. You stood in the middle of your room half-dressed, chest heaving like you’d just survived a firefight. You weren’t even sure what part of the last ten minutes hurt the most. Your body? Your pride? Your naivety, for thinking a High Axe could ever be anything more than a savage that only knew how to take or destroy things?

You sank to the floor, tears didn't roll, but you sat there thinking. And it was worse. Crying would've been easier. But instead, your mind kept replaying how good his hands had felt, how your mouth had opened on instinct, how a part of you did want him.

Toxic. Addictive.

You picked up your pants. Got dressed slowly. Carefully. As if reclaiming your space, your skin, one piece of clothing at a time. You went to wash your face and put on a different make-up; deciding to wait for Esmah outside of your apartment, in the hallway of the Hive spire's residential wing.

You sat on the railing like a wayward spirit, elbows on your knees, the glow from the security light above painting your cheeks pale gold. You’d redone your eyeliner sharper than before, lips painted plum to hide how bitten they’d been by him, or by you, you weren’t sure.

You just needed the night to not be about him.

The lift clanked into place five levels down and slowly groaned its way up, each stop echoing like a slow drumbeat to your rising tension. Then, finally, it arrived with a cheerful chime that mocked your mood, the doors parted to reveal Esmah in a fury of metallic pink and translucent layers.

She was all dressed in the finest and most stylish clothes she could afford for these sorts of meetings, with some luck she could had passed for a disgraced noble that had ended up with everyone else down there but was still clinging to the "diva" persona, her eyes scanning the floor and spotting you in an instant. Her smile faltered just a millimeter.

“You look like you wanna kill someone,” she said, stepping out and pulling you into a one-armed hug that smelled like orange mist and hair dye. “Please tell me it’s not a boy. Or worse...a gang boy.”

You said nothing.

“Throne spit,” she hissed, “it was him, wasn’t it?”

Your silence stretched.

“You said it was a one-time thing. One peace treaty and done. You were so proud. Honey you just shared apartments”

You finally looked at her, your lips twisting into something bitter. “Yeah. Well. Fuck that guy.”

She didn’t press. Just nodded. Wrapped her other arm around you, head gently resting against yours.

“Well,” she said after a moment, “that’s why I came with backup.” From behind her, like summoned spirits, two more figures emerged from the lift: Zeyna and Alrik, both from the local radio station in Sector Nine that helped your department on the Concord by connecting calls or just letting you choose a song for whenever the days stretched for eternity. Zeyna looked like she’d been born under a disco ball and Alrik was already chewing some strange spice that made his teeth glow blue.

“We’re going to burn that memory out of your miiiiiid,” Esmah said flourishing the last word, gently grabbing your wrist. “Come on. You need noise, lights, and three drinks none of us can’t pronounce.”

You didn’t protest. You let her pull you down the corridor, past sleeping units and neon graffiti that still smelled like ozone. At the corner, she tugged a small chrome mirror out of her bag and handed it to you.

“Look at yourself,” she said. “Say it.”

“Say what?”

“You’re too good for him.”

You stared at your reflection. At the sharp eyeliner, the hollowed cheeks, the faint red marks near your collarbone.

“I’m too good for him,” you repeated, though your voice didn’t quite believe it yet.

“Damn right you are.” Esmah gave you a wink. “Now let’s go let the bass scramble your brain before you start romanticizing this crap.”

The walk to The Spiral Dead was fast, filled with too-loud conversation and the occasional bump from passing late-shift workers ending their cycles. The club was carved into the bones of an old elevator shaft that had collapsed centuries ago and been repurposed into something far too alive for its rusted surroundings.

By the time you reached the threshold, you could already hear the pulse, low, hypnotic, like the party had started hours ago and you were just barging in the middle of it. The line outside twisted down the block, people wrapped in work attires, or with old cloth that had been used too many times to retain their original color, or cybernetic implants almost as big as the person was, cybernetic eyes gleaming under the violet lights scanning the line or whatever their augments were displaying in their brains. You realized, slowly, that this was part of the Tech Lunatics territory.

Esmah turned to you just before the bouncer waved you in.

"Here's your pills hun" She passed you a tablet with four blue pills, no label in the package nor it's content

"I'm not sick" You raised an eyebrow as if it was obvious

"Because of the frequencies bestie! The frequencies" Alrik rolled his eyes "We don't want ya to lose your pretty ears to some internal bleeding caused by the music right?"

"No..." You mumbled, swallowing one while closing your eyes, it tasted sour to your mouth

And it hit you.

Like falling into the Warp, or another dimension.

The sound wasn’t music in the traditional sense; it was a full-body assault, an orchestrated electronic chaos. A thousand synthetic layers dancing in impossible time signatures, twisting in and out of harmonies that shouldn't exist but felt like they did anyway. Somewhere, buried under the cyclone of sound, was a beat that moved like a heartbeat, as if the earth below your feet itself was alive and beating. The bass hit your eardrums like if it was going to smash them, not fully letting you register the decibels in which it was operating but making you feel like you just wanted to lose your body completely to the sound

A choir of distorted voices chanted nonsense phrases that made more sense the less you tried to understand them. Every few seconds, the tempo skipped a note or passed to a different time signature, like the entire club had skipped a beat in time, only to come slamming back in with double force making a mess of all your senses. Your stomach was about to spat everything you had eaten on the day to the ground, but the effects of "the pill" held you just in the threshold.

Lights carved impossible shapes across the thick industrial air, bouncing off bodies moving in ways that barely resembled dancing. A woman floated midair on magnetic stilts, rotating slowly like a satellite. Someone else was suspended in an exoskeletal rig that pulsed with strobe lights from under their skin. Above it all, projected against the spine of the club’s ancient shaft wall, was an AI-generated saint with a hundred twitching eyes and a mouth looping the word “Yes” in eight different tones. You could barely tell if this was real or a product of your euphoria-driven imagination trying to make sense of it all.

Esmah turned back toward you once you were inside, already swaying to the sound. She leaned close so you could hear her through the pulsating chaos.

“Welcome to the club, darling.”

Zeyna was gone, absorbed by the crowd like a splash of gloomfruit in a whirlpool. Alrik was busy bartering garish for drink with a man whose beard you perceived was literally on fire. Esmah took your hand again and led you down a spiraling catwalk that circled the club’s massive open pit, once a freight elevator shaft now totally repurposed to be a dancefloor. The further down you went, the more the air shimmered, thick with drug haze and sweat and some kind of incense that tickled your sinuses with the most exotic vapors you had ever inhaled.

You felt the second wave from the pill kick in about halfway down.

The first thing to go was your balance; not lost, but altered. Everything felt light. Your limbs didn’t move so much as they flowed. Sound slowed and then sped back up, colors bled into each other like melted rainbows, and your heartbeat synced with that impossible off-beat rhythm.

Esmah turned, her face split into a manic grin that you could see twice, once where it belonged, and again as a glowing echo hovering behind her head.

“You feelin’ it yet?” she asked, voice slurred by distortion and echo.

You tried to answer, but you were laughing.

And then the spiral opened into the main pit.

The lights flickered red and the crowd erupted as a fresh set started. The bass dropped like a planetary impact. The saint above began mouthing something new, it sounded like one of the prayers from the Lectio Divinitatus but so twisted and passed through so many filters that felt alien in your ears.

You grinned from ear to ear, lifting your arms to the air and completely allowed the flow to take you.

Bodies collided and broke apart in a tide of limbs and light, a sacred chaos where nothing mattered but motion and sensation. You moved with them, your mind peeled open like a flower caught in the radiation of some forgotten sun. People you didn’t know reached for your hands, your waist, your shoulders. You were just a comet streaking through their perception. Your plum lips twisted in an open grin, your laughter half-swallowed by the hum of the track, and you gave yourself over to the pulse entirely.

For the first time in what felt like years, your body belonged only to you.

There was no Xavier. No Concord paperwork. No fragile truce talks or inner wars. Just the floor under your boots, the heat of unfamiliar skin brushing past you, and the holy, terrifying freedom of letting go.

Esmah grabbed your wrist again at some point, pulled you against her so she could speak near your ear, but you couldn't or wouldn't make out a single word. A scream. Joyful. Feral. A shared euphoria. You screamed back.

The AI-saint above you split into four forms and then folded into one again, cycling through faces like shuffling a deck of faces your mind pictured as people you had known in your life passing by.

The intermission slapped you back to the present; rhythm slowing down, pupils reducing from the dilated state they were in. The DJ that up to now you had pictured as the artificial intelligent patron Saint of the club announced through a filtered voice module to take a breather for a couple of minutes; that was the chance to meet at least someone. With some luck you could find people to enrich your knowledge about the Yarish wars or other topic relevant to your work

At a table near the stairwell, three elders lounged beneath a pulsing shrine-light. One wore a cloak stitched with ghostvine flower embroidery, the purple fronds curling like smoke across her sleeves. Her hair was grey, her eyes aglow with dull implant circuits, and her hands moved constantly as she spoke to the younger woman next to her, in a binary code you did not recognized.

Beside them, a middle-aged man with a prosthetic spine and a breathing mask tapped a glass filled with something murky and red.

"See I told the kid that nochtmire (Omen, either good or bad in Cardrean language) was just not good for 'im; poor lowbright (idiot) got loomed (marked for death) by the Mutes probably"

You stepped forward before you could overthink it.

“Excuse me,” you said, your voice just loud enough to cut through the murmur. “I don’t mean to interrupt, but I’m trying to understand what really happened during the Yarish Wars. Do any of you know about this...?”

The woman with the embroidery looked up, eyes scanning you like a hawk, pausing at the plum of your lips, the sweat on your brow, the Concord sigil still faintly etched into the side of your neural-link collar. Something flickered in her gaze, amusement, contempt, it was hard to say.

“Offbright,” she said, the others giggled

“I...am yes but I am a...uh...pen-dog,” You replied, remembering a term you heard someone call you before

That got a chuckle out of the man in the mask. “Finally, one of you admits it.”

The man gestured to the bench. “Sit then, Concord. Listen. Both your owners sonen love to tell different versions of it. None want to get butt-hurt by admitting their fuck-ups.”

You nodded, slid into the seat, and tapped your neural recorder just enough to save the audio discreetly, not transmit it.

You felt fingers suddenly crawling through your hair, like little serpents zigzaging between the strands and pulling you hard backwards, yanking you until you were looking up at Xavier features.

"She's my girl" He stared at the gentleman you were just talking to "Xa-" You groggily mumbled, still under the pill the concert had bystanders had given you "Shut it" He growled at you, his grip slightly tightening "I'm talking to the junt (weakling) fuck here"

The man with the breathing mask didn't flinch, his glowing eyes barely narrowed. The woman in the ghostvine cloak raised one brow, as if watching a drama she'd seen too many times to care for the ending. The younger woman beside her leaned back without saying a word, though her fingers subtly tapped against the table’s edge in that same strange binary rhythm.

Xavier stood behind you, his hand twisted into your hair like it belonged there, like you belonged to him.

“She's my girl,” he repeated to the elder man, voice low and drenched in threat. His other hand hovered near the blade holstered at his hip, thumb tapping against the latch.

You tried to speak, but your mouth felt numb, like it was under anesthetics. The pill still danced in your veins, colors swam at the edge of your vision, and sound was muffled, like you were half-submerged in deep water. But your body remembered. It remembered the pressure of his fingers, the way his breath smelled when he got too close, the jagged violence of his affection.

"What are you doing-?"

You tried to say it. It barely came out. The man in the mask gave a wet, rasping chuckle.

“One move and this whole place turns against you lowbright, don't be such a hothead.”

“You think I care?” he growled at the masked man. “I’ve killed before in rooms just like this. Danced in the mess after. You wanna sonen go?!?!”

“Xavier,” you said, throat dry, lips slow to form the word. “Let go. Please.”

His eyes darted back to you, and for a moment, just a moment, something human flickered there. He loosened his hold by a margin, the hand in your hair becoming a cradling touch rather than a grip. It was an apology dressed in ego, a gentleness wrapped in wrath.

You placed your hand on his wrist, pleading. Your voice still trembled when you spoke, but it came out this time, softer.

“It’s not what it looks like. I’m working, just listening. I don’t do these places unless there’s something I need to know. He wasn't telling me anything”

You saw the way his jaw twitched. The silent calculation. The push and pull between instinct and possession, rage and want. Xavier was trying to leave some room to believe you, to let go and admit he had gotten the situation all wrong.

“Just like that?” the younger woman at the table muttered, still tapping her rhythm. “Didn’t think you High Axes fell for collars.”

Xavier snapped.

He stepped forward, releasing your hair only to slam his fist into the metal table, hard enough to rattle every drink on it. Glass trembled. The old woman’s drink rippled into her clothes, she did a little jump as she looked at herself and then at Xavier.

“You wanna repeat that shit again, tin-head?” He barked, spit flying off his mouth, snarling like an animal. “You think you know what we ‘fall’ for? She’s mine. Not the other way around. So shut your vox before I rip the data-babble right out of it!”

Your breath caught instinctively. That sick, twisting part of you that responded. Not in agreement, not in disapproval. Because Xavier’s madness had gravity, and even as you recoiled, some fractured part of you wanted him to speak like that. To burn this whole club down for you. To tell everyone he wanted only you.

It was more potent than any hallucination the pill could ever give you.

You reached up slowly, standing now, moving between him and the table. You placed both palms against his chest, feeling the heat of him even through his flak jacket, the thundering of his heart.

“Look at me,” you whispered. “Please.”

He didn't. He just pushed you aside and you could see the moment where his fist did not connect with anything and the knee of the old Tech Lunatic went straight towards his stomach.

The old Tech Lunatic’s knee found its mark before Xavier’s fist ever swung, sharp, brutal, driving the breath right out of him. Xavier’s eyes went wide, his world narrowing to a single anvil of pain in his gut. He reeled backward, clutching his midriff, skin paling as the air rattled out of his lungs.

He staggered, off–balance for the first time, and one of the elders slipped in beside him, the young Lunatic planted a hand on his shoulder, her grip surprisingly firm, and shoved. Xavier pitched forward, his brow colliding with the edge of the metal table in a sickening crack. Glass shattered; liquid splashed across the floor in a slow, glittering rain.

He hit the ground hard, breathless, his cheek pressed against cold steel. For a heartbeat, the club paused, the pulse of the music slowed to a ragged heartbeat beneath the thud of his fall. There were mumbling, but not before the music resumed and everyone went back to their trance.

Your heart thundered so loudly it drowned out everything. They continued to kick him a few times before you couldn't stand it anymore and lunged at his battered body, raising your hands at the Techs. They stopped, spit to the fallen Axe and went to find another table to sit in.

You dropped beside him, barely aware of the spill soaking your knees or the ache in your voice as it tore from your throat.

“Xavier!”

He groaned, not words, just pain. The kind that didn’t have the dignity of noise. His face was smeared with blood and alcohol, a thin gash on his temple leaking red down into one eye. His hands curled reflexively into fists, but he didn’t lift them again. You grabbed the hem of your sleeve and wiped the blood from his eye, your breath shaking as you tried to coax him upright.

“Why did you come here?” you whispered, voice cracking. “Why like this, why now?”

Xavier chuckled...or maybe it was a cough. It sounded like something caught between the two.

“I’m not...I’m not good at this.” His voice was fading again. “Didn’t know how to say I am sorry without sounding like an idiot.”

Your hands shook as they rested against his chest, feeling the ragged thump of his heart beneath all the broken. And still, still, that awful part of you clung to it. To him.

You should have left him there. You wanted to. But instead, you brushed the blood from his eyebrow, pulled his head into your lap, and sniffed. He looked up at you again, dazed, the blood starting to clot at his temple.

“You...still mad?”

You didn’t answer. Instead, you wiped with your thumb the blood falling on his mouth.

"Let me take you home"

Xavier blinked slowly, lips parting like he wanted to say something stupid again, maybe a joke, maybe another sorry; but the look on your face made him stop. He just nodded, weakly, and winced as you helped him sit up.

You stood with him half-limp against your side, his weight almost too much, but not enough to make you let go. Your arms wrapped around his middle, his shoulder pressed into yours. The closeness of your bodies made the tiniest blush to appear in your cheeks. His blood had soaked into your sleeve. You didn’t care.

You glanced over your shoulder toward the dancefloor where the lights had returned to full strobe, where bodies were back in a rhythmic trance, and where your friends were probably still riding their own chemical waves.

Esmah was dancing with someone whose arms had been replaced with two claws. Zeyna was perched on the catwalk railing, eyes closed, face to the fans. Alrik? Nowhere to be seen.

You could stay. You could tell them what happened. You could stay and shake Xavier off like the bad trip he was supposed to be. But instead, you turned away from them and toward the lift at the back of the club, dragging him with you.

He didn’t speak. His breathing was shallow, his skin hot with adrenaline and the last of the pain, and you could feel it radiating through your side. He leaned on you like he trusted you. Like you were his anchor, the one thing pulling him out of the bad life he had chosen for himself.

The elevator ride was slow. Claustrophobic. You pressed the override to your level and leaned him against the wall while the lift hummed and shook upward through the shaft. You didn’t look at him. You couldn’t.

But his hand found yours. Trembling.

You held it.

Because you were angry. But not enough.

Because you were tired. But not enough.

Because you still loved him. Too much.

When the doors opened, you pulled him down the corridor, past the flickering hall lights and rusted-out pipework, to your apartment. It wasn’t far but dragging him made it feel a eternity. He stumbled, groaned, leaned against you harder, but didn’t complain.

Your door unlocked with a soft chime, and you kicked it open with your foot, hauling him across the threshold like some cursed weight you couldn’t set down.

The door slid shut behind you with a hiss, sealing the world out.

Your apartment was quiet, dimly lit by the low amber glow of a wall panel near the kitchen. The silence hit you both like if the temperature in the ambience had dropped drastically, the only thing audible were the whistling breathing of Xavier chest.

He sagged against you, one last stumble making the two of you crash gently into the wall just past the doorway. You caught him again, hands curling under his arms, and for a second, just a second, his forehead leaned into the side of your neck.

Not a move like in the morning. Just a moment of raw exhaustion.

You steadied him with a hand at his lower back. The muscles there tensed beneath your touch.

“You need to sit,” you murmured, almost afraid to break the hush.

He nodded against your skin, the stubble on his jaw grazing your collarbone. His hand slid away from yours but not far, he kept brushing your fingertips like he wasn’t ready to let go entirely.

You led him to the couch, easing him down. His jacket clung to him in places with half-dried blood, and you grimaced as you knelt beside him, starting to unbuckle the thick straps. He didn’t stop you. He just watched, eyes soft and unfocused, like he didn’t believe this was happening.

You stripped the jacket off carefully and tossed it to the floor. Beneath it, the bruises bloomed in full now, dark and angry across his ribs, his side. You reached for the med kit under the coffee table and cracked it open, the scent of antiseptic filling the room in sharp contrast to the sweat and pill-haze still clinging to your skin.

As you patched the wound near his temple, he flinched slightly from the care you were giving him. Like it hurt more to be touched gently.

“You don’t have to do this,” he whispered, eyes meeting yours.

“I already tried that,” you said, not looking up. “Didn’t work.”

You applied another patch, slower this time, and his hand brushed your thigh, then stilled.

The moment stretched.

There was no music now to drown it out. No hallucination. No reason to pretend this was just another mistake waiting to happen.

“I didn’t come to the club to fight,” he said, barely audible. “I swear. I saw you there, and...something in me just snapped. I didn’t know how to handle it.”

You looked up at him, the last of the gauze slipping from your hands.

“You don’t know how to handle anything,” you replied softly.

He looked ruined in that light. Not just physically. All those layers of anger, of bravado, stripped bare. Just Xavier now, in your apartment again, the same boy who never learned how to love someone without clawing at them or watching his back.

“I’m sorry,” he said again, voice cracking this time.

You didn’t answer. You just sat beside him, thigh to thigh, shoulder to shoulder, breathing the same space. And when he leaned into you, just slightly, just enough to make you feel it, you didn’t push him away.

You told yourself he might needed something to get his pain off from his mind. That whatever you may do now was to calm him down, to make him relax. It was a good excuse anyways, a measured lie whenever your hand slid past his thigh, traveling upwards to his member, which at your touch was starting to throb.

"Please...I.....-" He sighed, with the spark of a moan at the end of it

You had one eye inspecting his reactions, guarding yourself in case he became violent again; your hand was gentle, caressing, going up and down his shaft feeling the throbbing continue, his veins starting to get visible and palpable in your thumb. He relaxed, throwing his head back and moaning softly. It continued until the position bothered you enough to slide into your knees, pulling his pants even more down. The erection now was in full swing, some cum starting to flow to the tip of his cock.

"You're so...sonen gentle" He whispered, like cursing you for being so different.

It didn't take long until you had it in your mouth; pushing his cock down your mouth and into your throat; by the Emperor you wanted to feel him, to tear down the walls and convince yourself there was kindness inside of him, that there was some part of a gentleman still on that man's mind. The pace became faster and faster as you began to get lost in the moment too, wanting more of him, needing more of him, perhaps even handing him the same discomfort and pain that he had brought to you before; your hands gripping his thighs and pushing him harder and harder into your mouth, choking on it with so much relish.

Now he screamed, he wailed for you to stop, he became a moaning whimpering mess as you drained him of everything he had inside of him to the point the little strength he had after that bloody fight was completely lost and turned into a panting little man on your couch. His breath was hoarse and ragged, he could barely move his eyes to look at you, let alone speak. His eyes slowly drifted into closure, holding on to consciousness for dear life because he didn't want to leave you there as the one who had gotten revenge, the one who had gotten their satisfaction over the other. It was your vendetta.

You spat what you couldn't swallow, cleaned yourself up and stood up while seeing Xavier drift to slumber. You felt proud, satisfied, powerful...in all the worst way possible. You enjoyed this, at the end of the day this is what you thought you could get used to. This evil, this toxicity, that shroud of violence and death that followed the Cardrean everywhere he went.

As the night rush ended, slipping into your bed and slowly losing consciousness, an overwhelming sensation of comfort and peace overcame you when your body naturally started to shut down little by little to rest.

That peace would be what, years after, you would yearn for in another planet, another job, after you had proven to be a good scribe and pulled out of Cardrean. You will sigh as the day of the news about Xavier death will arrive at your station, in a tiny footnote at the end of the news datasheet of the day; he will die the way you knew his story would had ended, a high stake shootout will go wrong, he will drag himself up to the door of your apartment block and he will die there, his face serene and happy; looking at the sky, happy to have been able to pull you out of that world even if it meant losing you beside him.

That day would come soon, but tonight you rested, creating that memory for your future self, the one who will thank Xavier for the love, the action and the bad that you lived in Cardrean.

[druidwolf21]

Called TF out

[druidwolf21]

You mean

People actually read my stuff 🥺

Forever grateful for all of you 🥺♥️

when you gain a new follower and they spam your notifs with likes and reblogs

[druidwolf21]

I have way too many things to put out:

[druidwolf21]

This is so friggin cute

Me: getting all the paperwork ready so that we can get married, making sure all the information is correct and that everything is ready to go

My soon to be husband: isn’t it funny we met on tumblr and now we’re getting married

[druidwolf21]

I love the idea of the ultramarines keeping anything from old seals to photos or battle memorials in their codex's!!

Idle motions.

Malum Caedo/ GN reader

based on the idle animation from boltgun

summery: What if it wasn't the codex malum was looking at...

A/N: thanks to @xx-rabidpossum-xx for instantly hopping on this idea with me. Also yes, I tried to use some of the taunts from the game. As always not proofread

TW: Fluff, Smut, Canon typical gore and violence, sexual content.

NO ANGST I SWEAR

Caedo sneered through the crimson lens of his beaked helm at the demon on the floor, spasming in its last death throws until its body fell apart into a pile of spent meat. Uttering a low snarl, the marine slashed his chain blade threw the air and with a sicken splatter, freed the blade of the rivulets of blood and stringy flesh that churned in the metal teeth along its edge.

"For the Emperor. For Ultramar"

Hefting his bolter and sword, Malum surveyed the room. Abandoned warp flesh and astartes corpses littered the ground, degrading in growing pools of crimson ichor that seeped across the cracked stone floors and dripped from the crumbling walls. Prowling through the battle field, he fired a few deft shots into a number of the corpses, confirming the kill and drawing grim enjoyment as the slabs of traitorous muscle and armour exploded with the impact.

Satisfied he had purged the area of heretical filth, the marine relaxed. holstering his weapons. Grunting, he slid his hand across his visor, smearing blood across his vision and flicking it away with a twitch of his wrist.

"Filthy vermin" he growled, wiping his hand on a towering support pillar before leaning heavily against it. Sliding his back down the concrete with a screech of metal, he seated himself on the floor, back pressed to the stone.

Reaching down to his hip, he demagnetised a clip, pulling his copy of the codex free. He stared at the book for a moment, swiping his palm over the striated cover and flipping it open

"The emperor guides my sword" He muttered, leafing through the yellowing, dog eared pages until he found what he was looking for.

"But you guide me home"

He pulled out a few small squares of paper from between the pages, newer and less stained, the photos were still creased from the touch of callused fingers.

You, smiling up at him as you straightened a creased purity seal on his hip. Taking care not to smear the ink you moved carefully, gently tugging and bending until the crease had all but vanished.

"You should be more careful, what if I'm not here to tidy them for you" "You're my serf, you will always be here to straighten them" You had shrugged, patting the seal in place and stepping back to admire your work. "You should still learn to do this yourself" Caedo had snorted, crossing his arms. "I am Malum Caedo. I have more important things to do than play with paper" You shook your head and laughed. "We'll Its a good thing I'm here then isn't it" Caedo softened slightly. "Yes, I suppose it is"

Malum shook the memory away and picked up another candid shot.

Again, you standing next to him, this time hugging his helmet to your chest.

"You don't need to see me off every time, I am perfectly capable of holding my own helm" he patted his leg, showing you the magnet hold for his helmet to sit comfortably on his hip. "I know, I wanted to come." you offered it to him. "I need to make sure you have everything" "Of course I do" "Of course you do" you repeated back to him lowly. you studied his face, watching him seal his helmet before continuing. "Don't die out there, please?" Caedo froze, unsure how to process what you said. "I am proud to serve and proud to die" he finally replied. "I know. But I'd miss you if you did" Malum watched your back as you turned and left, an odd feeling settling in his chest that he couldn't quite place.

The ultramarine stared at the pict for a long while, wondering if that was where it had all started, or if in his obliviousness, he had missed something before.

He shook his head, and flipped to the next one.

This one was blurry, one he'd taken himself with a camera confiscated from the remembrancer who had given him the first two picts with a wink and a smile that was far too knowing.

Faint light from a single candle in a bracket on his chamber wall illuminated the fuzzy image of you sat on the edge of his bunk, eyes creased and laughing.

"What are you doing with that! Give it here" You laughed, reaching for the camera. Malum held it out of reach, reclining on his bunk until he was propped up only on his elbow. "You dare order me about?" he huffed, lips twitching at the corners. You clambered over the bed towards him, settling between his legs and putting you hand on his stomach, you leaned over his chest. "That doesn't belong to you!" "I have taken this camera for the glory of Ultramar" You laughed and then froze, suddenly realising the position you were in; arm stretched past the marines head, one hand placed firmly on his abs and your face inches from his, almost laying on top of his body. You opened your mouth, presumably to apologise and made to move away. His body acting without thought, Caedo dropped the camera and grabbed your wrist pulling you back towards him before crashing his lips against yours. His hearts hammered in his chest, adrenaline coursing through him harder than it had in any battle. The kiss was messy, unpractised. But the feeling of your fingers clutching his shirt and your lips moving with his had him falling flat on his bed as his hands palmed your body.

Suddenly his ceramite was beginning to feel stuffy, too tight in places it had fit comfortably just moments before. Malum inhaled deeply, half debating stuffing the memories into the ratty pages of his codex and rereading it back to front to clear his mind.

But he didn't.

Instead, he slid the last photo free.

A sheen of sweat coating your body, you lay naked on your back on his bunk, eyes half lidded and lips slightly parted.

"ah, ah mmm malum~" Caedo grunted, driving himself into your heat. Fuelled by your breathy moans and your fingers dancing across his bare skin. "Right there- please" Caedo's hand gripped your waist and slid to your thigh, lifting your leg and rutting himself deeper "Ah fuck! Malum!" Your body clenched around him, muscles rippling with your peak. Back arching in pleasure, you cried his name, digging your nails into his forearm as he continued to fuck you through it. One hand gripping your skin, the other clenched white knuckled into the bedsheet by your head, Malum growled as he felt your legs lock around his hips. "This is not in the codex" he thought bringing his lips to your throat and lathing his tongue across your pulse. "This is not in the codex" He thought, tasting sweat and arousal on your flushed skin. "This is not in the codex" he thought, bringing you into a heated kiss and feeling your tongue push past his lips. "Damn the codex" he thought, feeling the knot in his stomach snap as he came.

Your voice had cracked when you felt him finish, pushing himself deep inside you and groaning. His hips continued to move, pushing his spend deeper in a moment of feral instinct, Huffing at the overstimulation but unable to stop himself.

Tears had flooded your eyes and spilled down your cheeks by the time the marines sense had returned to him. Sweat coated your body in a glistening sheen and spit shone on your lips which rested in a contended but tired smile. Caedo stared down at you, struck dumb at the unfamiliar wave of emotion that washed through his body. The camera sitting nearby caught his eye and reluctantly pulling out of you, he reached over and grabbed it, turning back quickly to snap a photo of you.

"Malum.." "Please. I want to remember this"

I need to remember this how it is right now, I need to see you like this in more than my minds eye.

You considered him for a moment, finally nodding and closing your eyes. Malum climbed on to the bed and pulled you up with him, gathering you against his chest. You whined, feeling the aches starting to spread across your body, but settled quickly in his arms with your head on his chest listening to the bellows of his lungs.

"I don't know what this is" he said, breaking the comfortable silence. "That's ok" you murmured, placing your palm over one of his hearts. "You don't have to. We can just enjoy it" He pressed a kiss to the crown of your head and sat with you buried in his embrace long into the night, his mind running wild with a million thoughts.

Malum shifted uncomfortably, feeling stifled in his ceramite as he fought to quell the feelings clawing their way to the surface. He was helped along by the sudden piercing squeal of a demons battle cry and the distant thunder of footsteps. Brushing his finger over your face with a lingering touch, he pushed the pictures back between the pages and slammed the codex shut, reattaching it to his hip as he rose to his feet.

"Whilst I draw breath, I stand. Whilst I stand, I fight. Whilst I fight, I prevail."

Drawing his weapons, he rolled his shoulder and hefted the weight of his blade and bolter. A feral grin plastered on his face and the image of you waiting for him set firmly in his mind, he lifted his sword and charged forward.

🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒🌒

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