#hastur sejanus

[marsskop]

just Hastur's portrait from the previous post

[incorrect-primarchs-quotes]

Horus in his first meeting with Abaddon: Your resume says that you're creative, what do you create?

Abaddon: I-

Sejanus, sticking his head in: Problems.

[caiusmajor]

You know, for all that HORUS RISING and FALSE GODS tell us again and again that Hastur Sejanus is the most beautiful, perfect man Garviel Loken has ever seen (well, until he meets Fulgrim anyway), I don't think we ever get a physical description of him.

Anyway, he shows up in SIGISMUND: THE ETERNAL CRUSADER and is described as having dark skin and grey eyes.

It's not specified whether or not Sig finds him beautiful.

[castellankurze]

“Are you alright?” he asked in a soft voice. His fellow officer didn’t deign to lift his head.  “I am well, Ahzek.” Phosis T’kar’s voice was a throatier growl than usual, but despite the implicit warning - or perhaps because of it - the Chief Librarian moved to seat himself beside his friend.  T’kar grunted, but made no move to shoo the interloper away, and after a moment’s passing, Ahriman lifted an arm to offer the Magister of the Raptora a barrel-wipe from his cleaning kit. T’kar took the frail piece of cloth and stared at it. “It’s for your eyes,” Ahzek prompted gently. “Ah.”  T’kar hesitated overlong, but in time lifted the cloth and dabbed it to his eyes.  There was no tremble in his hands, Ahzek noted. “Your fellows of the Raptora should be with you,” he said in time. “It is nothing.  A momentary human weakness,” T’kar replied. “You’re human,” Ahzek pointed out.  “And it is not weak to grieve.  It would be far crueler a weakness if you did not.” Phosis T’kar blinked his eyes, and water shone from his cheeks.  “It is not right,” he finally said, his voice taut.  “It should have been at the height of battle.  Some grand bloody last stand.  At his primarch’s side, if at all.  Not...not this coward’s murder.” “It should have been,” Ahzek agreed with a nod. “He will be remembered,” Phosis said, balling his hand into a fist so that the edges of the barrel-wipe protruded from between his armoured fingers. “No finer figure in Mark IV plate,” Ahzek mused softly.

There was once more silence between the two, and in time Phosis T’kar unlocked a secured compartment on his belt to retrieve a remembrancer’s recorder, setting it to play.  The delicately-plucked strings of an old Terran instrument filled the air, accompanied by percussion and electronic noise.  Soon enough, voices filtered through the machine.  One was recognizable as belonging to the man that held the barrel-cloth.  The other might as well have sprang from the aether of the Great Ocean Beyond. The two men sat without speaking so that the air between them might prove home to another. For a little while longer.

[wolffyluna]

12, 15, 17, 25, 26 - for uh *realises she doesn't know any of your 40k Ships for sure* *EMBERASMENT INTENSIFIES* pick whichever makes you feel most awkward writing about :PPP

I was going to write about Horus/Sanguinius, but then you mentioned the ship I feel most awkward writing about. So now I’m obligated to write about The Ship I Shouldn’t Ship, Horus/Hastur. 

12. Is there a wedding? What was the proposal like? Any kind of honeymoon?

Unlikely, considering it is kept very secret, namely because Horus in denial that this is a terrible relationship, but is aware a lot of people disapprove, and Hastur does what Horus tells him to do.

15. How adventurous are they?

I don’t really understand this question. Like, they’re both part of the Adeptus Astartes, so they don’t exactly swashbuckle, but...

Yeah, don’t understand the question.

17. What would make them break up? Would it be permanent?

Third Party Intervention. Probably from Sanguinius. This is a relationship that really, really, needs to be stopped. Though the likely hood it does stop is low, especially if Sanguinius doesn’t find out.

25. How much time do they spend together? Do they share their feelings, or hold things in?

Neither of them have much free time, but they both work closely together, so they do spend a lot of time together. Horus shares all his feelings, because he is basically MADE OF FEELS, but Hastur doesn’t get a lot of opportunity to share his.

26.How do their friends feel about their relationship? Their families?

Basically only Tarik knows for certain, and he very much disapproves, but he can’t do much. If other people found out, about half would disapprove, to varying degrees, and the other half would consider Hastur ‘lucky’ *shudders*

[starcunning]

on reincarnating clone space boyfriends

[3/17/15, 11:42:08 PM] starcunning: “Hastur Sejanus is the second coming of David Bowie” would explain a lot. [3/17/15, 11:42:21 PM] castellankurze: it really would, wouldn't it [3/17/15, 11:42:26 PM] starcunning: And also make Chilson Hector the third coming of David Bowie? [3/17/15, 11:42:40 PM] starcunning: come to liberate the imperium through the power of ROCK [3/17/15, 11:42:42 PM] ivorytowerblr: FUCK YES

[marsskop]

Q: Did you ever notice strange glances from your brothers? Have you ever received compliments?

...don't trust him, he knows he looks good :)

Done for @/Warhammer ASK

[marsskop]

sometimes you just want a hug from your dad...

a very self-indulgent sketch

[marsskop]

"The dead walk among the living. The glorious Golden Throne was shattered. Now, the God-Emperor is lost, And in the night of Broken Astronomicon, the Avenging Son was the first to perish. Soon, the God-Emperor's sons claimed the Shards of the Astronomicon. The Warp infused the Materium, and the war from whence no lord would come was triggered. Arise now, ye scorched by Emperor's fire. Heroes ye or monsters. Abaddon the Despoiler, the last of the Black Legion. Cato Sicarius, the brave hero of the Ultramarines. Fabius Bile, the mutilating healer. Saint Celestine, the lost gold of the God-Emperor. And one other. The forgotten warrior of the thirthieth millennium. Cross the lands of Terra, the immaterial unity of the Warp and the Materium, To stand before the Golden Throne And claim the Astronomicon."

Someone prompted me to draw a crossover between the last played game (Elden Ring) and Warhammer40000 and place my precious wolf there, so here we are

[marsskop]

Hastur Sejanus, Captain of the IV Company of Luna Wolves, during a large-scale compliance. bloodthirsty. precious.

originally done for a Warhammer ASK in Vk

[castellankurze]

I know their is not a lot of information on him save a brief description of his features and of his personality, but could you do Captain of the 4th Company of the Luna Wolves Hastur Sejanus, Horus' favored Captain?

2-4 songs that are probably on their iPod

Hungry Like the Wolf - “The original wolves.”  He stresses the use of the word.  “We’re the packleaders.”  “Is there any reason I shouldn’t kill you for your insolence?” growls the primarch of the VI.  Sejanus smiles.  “You wouldn’t overstep your place.”  The arrogance would be overwhelming if it weren’t quite so endearing.  “You’re right,” Leman admits.  He shakes his head.  Sejanus winks.California Dreaming (Beach Boys cover) - “How can you stand to go without a helm, Sejanus?  Two minutes and my face feels frozen.”  “The warmth of springtime, Little Horus.”  “Springtime?  This world doesn’t rise above a hundred below, Hastur.”  “It’s springtime for us, Aximand.  Old Night was the winter of humanity.  The Age of the Imperium is coming as surely as summer.  Does that thought not warm the bones?”  “Hah…I suppose it does.”Move Along - “Play it at my funeral,” he says, laughing.Blue Moon - “A beautiful man,” Loken would say, building his tale, “a beautiful man adored by all.  No finer figure in Mark IV plate than Hastur Sejanus.  That he is remembered, even here among us, speaks of his qualities.  The noblest hero of the Great Crusade.”  That was how Loken would describe him to eager listeners.  “In future times, he will be recalled with such fondness that men will name their sons after him.”

the one place they sometimes end up falling asleep — where they’re not supposed to

Leaning against the arm of Horus’ chair.  He feigns wakefulness, leaving his helm on and resting his chin against his armored fist so as to look absorbed in the events.  Horus knows better, but lets the man sleep.  Hastur has campaigned himself into exhaustion - the rest of the Mournival will fill him in later.

the game they’d destroy everyone else at

The game of being an Astartes.  The companies of Sejanus, Sigismund and Raldoron were once cut off from external support by a massive onslaught of orcs.  The Blood Angels called for support after fifty-seven hours of solid fighting.  The Templars called for resupply after eighty-one.  The Luna Wolves’ Fourth Company, after two hundred hours of silence, replied to queries with a “fine thanks, how are you?”  Upon reuniting with their parent Legions, it was determined that the Fourth had suffered less than twenty percent losses, whereas his contemporaries had both reported upwards of fifty percent.

the emoticon they’d use most often

0=)

what they act like when they haven’t had enough sleep

Sejanus becomes withdrawn, quiet and a bit grumpy.  Abaddon once got smarmy upon noticing some rings under his eyes and commented that the great Sejanus was “only mortal after all.”  Sejanus shoved him hard enough that the First Captain of the Lunar Wolves, in his full cataphractii armor, tilted over and collapsed to the ground.  “Mortal, maybe, but Sejanus at one tenth is still enough to put a full Ezekyle Abaddon on his face,” the Fourth Captain growled.  Abaddon quietly apologized and asked Hastur for help in standing back up.  Hastur did.

their preferred hot beverage on really cold nights. or mornings. or whenever.

Cthonic tea.  One cup only - it has to last.  Especially with the way the Vengeful Spirit’s supply seems to keep dwindl-ALPHARIUS I SEE YOU SNEAKING THERE.

how they like to comfort/care for themselves when they’re in a slump

Reading.  The extended volumes of Recovered Writings of the Age Before Night are his favorites.  Sometimes he writes his own editorials on matters.  He claims to be working on a compilation of his own, one that documents the Warmaster’s rise.  Tarik ribs him about it a little bit.  He stops when Hastur threatens to leave him out.

what they wanted to be when they grew up

A warrior.

their favorite kind of weather

Midnight.  Still and silent.

thoughts on their singing voice (decent? terrible? soprano? alto?)

Baritone, and quite good.  He and Phosis (a tenor) did some singing after the Thousand Son lost a comrade who succumbed to some unnamed genetic defect.

how/what they like to draw or doodle

Ever since Phosis T’kar and his company served alongside his own, Sejanus has had an interest in the iconography of the ancient Gyptus region of Terra - especially after T’kar noted the presence of Horus’ name therein - and from time to time tries his hand at drawing in that style, with reasonable success.  At least one attempt came out well enough that he later had it transferred to his flesh.

[wolffyluna]

Well, it's halfway through Friday for me so, if you feel like it: the Mournival accidentally walk in on Horus and Sanguinius doing heretical things (level of detail is up to you) - their reactions would, I suspect, be priceless :P (I fully admit I recently read Horus Rising and need something to soothe my feels...)

Hastur checked the internal chron of his armour. “The meeting was meant to start an hour ago.”

Tarik had his ear pressed up against the wall of the Primarch’s quarters. “Maybe they’re fighting?”

“Fighting?” Abaddon asked.

Tarik shrugged. “I can’t really hear them clearly. I remember Russ and Horus had a fight when they first had a joint compliance. Though I’m not sure Sanguinius and Horus would fight...”

“I’ll check on them.” Little Horus opened the door and walked in. It slid closed.

After a moment, Aximand walked back in, white as a sheet. “They... weren't fighting.”

Tarik facepalmed. “I should’ve guessed that.”

Hastur joined Tarik in facepalming. “We all should’ve.”

Abaddon just grunted.

Horus slammed the door open, holding his pants up. “Er, sorry, my sons. Knock next time, please.”

Hastur’s hand was still over his face, not daring to look. “We did sir. Multiple times.”

“Oh.” Horus paused. “Next time, if we don’t answer, don’t walk in.”

“We don’t intend to,” Aximand said.

[wolffyluna]

His Edited Heart Series - Abaddon's POV

This is short and unedited and terrible and I'm tired and feel emotionally down so please excuse the terribleness and now I'm just rambling.

***

Horus stood behind Hastur and lay a hand on his shoulder. “Thank you for your reports.”

Hastur blushed and shrank. “It was my duty, sir.”

And Hastur didn’t blush. Never. Yes, he was pale, but blood didn’t rush into his face randomly. He had control over his emotions. And he didn’t shrink. He was Astartes. Astartes knew no fear.

***

That was too weeks ago. It’d only got more obvious.

It’d got obvious enough the Abaddon recognized it. It’d got obvious enough it didn’t need stating.

Sometimes things needed to be put in words for the wrongness to be apparent. This didn’t need words.

That didn’t mean it couldn’t be stopped with words. He may not have been an orator, but he could try.

He knocked on the door to the Warmaster’s quarters.

There was a pause.

He waited, glaring at the keypad as if it could be convinced to open.

Horus opened it. He was shirtless, and flushed. He scowled at Abaddon, giving back as good as Abaddon gave him. “Yes?”

Abaddon heard a whimper. It was Hastur’s. Damn it. This was worse than he thought. This was past his words. “I need to know our fleet deployment. Sir.”

“Talk to the bridge.” Horus slammed the door.

Abaddon turned and walked away. He wished he could so something, but what? Support Hastur? He sighed. Supporting Hastur wasn’t a bad choice.

***

Another things become obvious soon afterwards.

Tarik and Hastur had got together.

For every move on Hastur Horus made, Tarik made his own. They were often subtle, or delayed, but they were there. Hastur and Tarik also spent a lot of time together. A lot of private time.

Well, he had to be supportive.

He found Hastur in a corridor. “Sejanus, a word.”

Hastur looked up. “Yes?”

Abaddon crossed his arms. “Has Tarik been treating you well?”

Hastur tilted his head. “Yes.”

Abaddon nodded. “Good. If he ever doesn’t, tell me and I’ll break his spine.”

“It probably won’t come to that.” Hastur smiled, genuinely, for the first time in what felt like ages. He turned on his heel and left.

Abaddon grinned. He got Hastur to smile genuinely. Well, it looked like he was smiling genuinely. Still, that was good. Reason to be proud.

[wolffyluna]

Hastur/Tarik WIP

This kind of unedited. It feels like somethings missing from it, so if you know what that is, please tell me.

I'll probably put the complete and edited version up on ao3.

***

Tarik expected the knock at the door of his quarters. Hastur had taken to telling him when a ‘private meeting’ was happening, so Tarik could be prepared.

He threw the paperwork onto the floor and rolled off the bed. He stood up. “Who is it?” Not that he needed to ask. It was obvious.

“It’s me.” Hastur’s voice was hoarse and broken, and he sounded like he was crying. He didn’t sound like the Hastur Tarik had known. He didn’t sound like he was yelling across a battlefield, leading a glorious charge. He didn’t sound like he was joking with friends, all smile and restrained joy.

It was a pity he was getting used to the voice.

There was a sound of someone trying to punch the door code in through tear blurred eyes.

“Hang on.”  Tarik walked over to the door, and pressed the open button. The door slid into the recess.

Hastur stood outside, still trying to punch the code in. Yellowed bruises marred his fingers and shoulders. Tarik tried not to stare. He’d never gotten used to the idea that these had come from the Primarch. He couldn’t visualise. Horus was fair. He listened to his sons. He’d never hurt them. But there were the bruises, and Hastur’s eyes were red.

Tarik cleared his throat.

Hastur looked up from the keypad. He blinked a couple of times, and pushed past Tarik into his quarters.

Tarik let his through. No point questioning why he didn’t notice the door opening. He already knew the answer.

Hastur collapsed face first on to the bed, his shoulders shaking.

"Do you want to talk about it?”

Hastur just shook his head.

“That’s okay.” Tarik inched over towards the bed, watching for Hastur’s reaction.

Hastur rolled onto his side and stared at the aquila on the opposite wall.

Tarik lay down carefully on the other side, chest just brushing against Hastur’s back. “This okay?”

Hastur nodded. “It’s fine.” He paused. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.” He patted Hastur’s cheek with his knuckle.

“Doesn’t have to be yours though.”

Tarik lifted himself up onto his arms. “Hey, look at me.”

Hastur glanced back.

“You need to have someone to support you, and I’m okay with you choosing me. I would’ve told you if I wasn’t. Okay?”

Hastur nodded. “Okay.”

Tarik lay back down, and Hastur pressed against him. Tarik wrapped an arm around him.

Hastur’s eyes closed, and he sighed.

***

Hastur stood outside the strategium door, rocking on his heels and knitting and unknitting his hands.

Tarik walked up to him and laid a hand on his shoulder. “Everything alright?”

Hastur dipped his head to side. “I’m just nervous. It’s not private, but--”

“--Horus is going to be there.”

Hastur nodded.

“I can give moral support. I’ll hold your hand and everything.” He joked, trying to lift Hastur’s spirits. It had worked in the past. Sort of.

“That sounds lovely.”

Tarik flinched. He didn’t expect Hastur to take him seriously. He knew Hastur didn’t want to show it, had told him as much. Still he had offered, and he didn’t mind. If this would help him, he’d do it. He took his hand off Hastur’s shoulder and threaded his fingers through Hastur’s.

Hastur squeezed his hand, and they walked through the door, Tarik still a little surprised.

***

Abaddon cornered Tarik in a corridor.

Tarik glared up at him and puffed out his chest, trying to look at least a little bit as tough as Abaddon. Not that it’s fool anyone, especially with the First Captain still in his Terminator plate. “What do you want?”

Abaddon stared down at him, and stood chestplate to chestplate. “I want to know if you’re romantically involved with Hastur Sejanus.”

Tarik screwed his face up. Did Abaddon really think that? “No!” I wouldn’t take advantage like that. Then his memory finally kicked in, and slapped him over the head. The hand-holding, the cuddling, the general intimacy, that was romance, right? “Yes. Maybe. I’m not sure.”

Abaddon huffed out a breath. “I’m just making sure you’re not taking advantage of your position of soft landing.”

“I’m not a soft landing.”

“You’re helping him when he’s hurting, and you’re involved with him romantically. You’re a soft landing.” He turned on his heel and stalked off, leaving Tarik to wonder whether he knew about Horus.

*** (Some time later)

Tarik woke up, and checked the chron read out. Still night time. He blinked and rolled over.

Loken lay next to him.

Tarik smiled. Loken looked cute when he was asleep, all blonde hair and soft face and--

No. No, he’s a different person.

Tarik wrapped an arm around Garvi’s waist and pressed himself against his back.

His brain flitted back to the memory.

No. He’s not Hastur 2.0. They’re different people.

Loken’s not a soft landing.

[wolffyluna]

I'm just about to start editing Acacia into submission (again), but i've got a plot bunny I really want to write, but I can't work out how to start it.

Basically, it's part of the Horus/Hastur series. Tarik ends up being to go-to conforter/shoulder to cry on for Hastur. Eventually they end up in a romantic relationship. There's no sex (Hastur wouldn't be comfortable with that, and even if he was, Tarik would feel like he was taking advantage), but lots of cuddles.

[wolffyluna]

"His Edited Heart" -Hastur/Horus

The complete version! You can also find it on AO3 here.

Horus laid lazy kiss of Hastur’s lips. “Thank you.” The pressure was just right, just like everything Horus did. “You’re good, you know.”

 I just wish I wasn’t. I wish at least half the times we were ‘just going to talk’ contained only talking. I wish I didn’t keep falling into bed with you. Sons shouldn’t do this to fathers. Fathers shouldn’t do this to sons.

Then Horus nuzzled his neck and Hastur’s train of thought disappeared. You couldn’t stay mad at Horus when he was touching you in the places that made your body sing. You couldn’t say no when you looked into his eyes and saw the desire there. You couldn’t do anything but get swept away.

Part of him just wanted to escape. Wanted him to flee forever, for him to shout out that this wasn’t right. But then Horus came near and that little voice got subsided in the rush of others who just wanted to serve. Who wanted to please their primarch and father, because how could you be happy if your primarch wasn’t?

***

The Mournival had a meeting. Not a formal one, a friendly meeting between brothers. Wine flowed relatively freely; Tarik was still annoyed that he couldn’t drink thanks to an injured shoulder and painkillers.

Tarik tipped back his seventh lemon lime and bitters, playing at being drunk. “So, Hastur.” He pointed “Horus has been having a lot of private meetings with you. Are you fucking him? Because if he, you’re going to tell us if he’s good.”

Aximand whooped and nearly knocked over his wine glass. Abaddon righted it and rolled his eyes.

Do I tell him? Do I keep it secret? Hastur stiffened. “No, I’m not ‘fucking’ our father.” He tried to put as much laughter into his tone and face, but it rang false.

Tarik obviously caught Hastur’s expression. He dropped the subject, no further jokes made. Hastur hoped he hadn’t given it away.

The evening wound down, and Abaddon dragged a very drunk Aximand back to his quarters.

“Little Horus is going to be over the moon when he wakes up.”

“He’s an Astartes. He can shrug off a hang-over.”

There was a pause. “I’ll be going now,” Hastur said. He stood up, but Tarik caught his shoulder with his good hand.

“That’s actually happening, isn’t it?”

Sejanus turned around. “What’s actually happening?”

“You, Lupercal, intimate relationships, that sort of thing.”

Hastur sighed. No point being coy about it. “Yes. The private meetings do involve more than talking.”

Tarik’s expression turned serious for once. “Look, if you want advice, or just want a listening ear, I’m here. I’ll be there if you need me, ‘kay?”

Hastur nodded.

Tarik grinned and punched Hastur on the arm. “Just spare me the gory details.”

“I intend to. But thanks for the offer.” He walked away for real this time.

 Tarik waved a hand and shouted at him. “No worries!”

***

 Hastur talked to Horus on the phone. It was easier that way, only hearing his voice and nothing else. Not that his voice wasn’t entrancing and commanding. Not that he could never disobey words spoken by him. “How secret was this meant to be?”

 There was something that sounded almost like a growl from the other end of the line. “Who did you tell?”

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. He couldn’t work out why. Horus barely said anything. He shouldn’t be crying. The weight of the primarch’s disappointment was too heavy to bear. How much disappointment could there even be in just four words? “I didn’t tell anyone, I swear! Torgaddon worked it out.”

Horus growled again. “Don’t tell anyone else.” His voice softened. “They wouldn’t understand. They would think I was taking advantage, think I was hurting you. I’m not, am I?”

“No, of course not.” He put down the phone, and resisted the temptation to slide down the wall and curl up in the fetal position.

***

Tarik sprung on him after training. Hastur nearly jumped out of skin. “You seem kind of upset and off-kilter. Heck, I saw you nearly in tears talking on the phone.” He laid a hand on Hastur’s shoulder, and Hastur shrugged it off. “Is something wrong? Has this got to do with Horus thing?”

Hastur didn’t speak.

“You can talk to me about anything, you know that, right? I’ll keep it in confidence.”

“Even from the Primarch?”

Tarik paused, like he was doing mental calculations. Finally, he nodded. “Even from Lupercal.”

“Follow me.” Hastur turned around and marched off to his quarters, Tarik following him.. Hastur checked every corner, making sure Horus wasn’t following him (Which was silly. Horus would never stalk him. There was no reason to, was there?), and Tarik tried to work out what the appropriate amount of physical contact for this was (he settled for fingertips resting lightly on Hastur’s shoulder.)

The door opened automatically for Sejanus and they stepped in. Hastur sat down on the bed, sinking into the mattress and gripping the sheets to give his hands something to do.

Tarik flopped down next to him, shoving a pillow off. “So what’s the problem?”

Hastur took a deep breath, and tried to gather his thoughts into something resembling sense. Just talking about this had the same terrifying, dream-like quality doing it had. “Whenever I’m near him, I can’t stop. I go to speak to him, and before I even have time to think, before I can get a word out, I find myself--” he paused. Spare him the gory details. Right. “--in his bed. There’s nothing I can do to to slow down.”

“Can’t you tell him to? Surely he’d listen if you tell him you want to do slower.”

“Have you tried talking to Lupercal?”

“I’m part of the Mournival, of course I have--”

“While you can feel his breath on your neck?”

“No.” He paused, looking at his feet. Hastur drew up his knees, hoping he didn’t get the sheets dirty. “I probably couldn’t. Have you tried? I mean, before he gets neck breathingly close?”

He shook his head. “Can’t. Could you try saying no to a primarch?”

“I’m sure he could take it--”

Hastur found himself on his feet before he knew what he was doing. “But what if he doesn’t? What if I manage to squeeze the words out, but he takes it as an insult? What if he rejects me? I couldn’t cope; I’d fall apart.” He turned to face Tarik. “Could you try to disappoint him?”

Tarik played with his hands. “I can’t think of anything else other than talking to him. I’m sure he’s understand. He’s reasonable.”

“I’ll try my best.”

***

Hastur knocked on Horus’ door, and it opened.

“Sir, I think we need to tal--” Horus smothered the words with a devouring kiss, and all of Hastur’s thoughts flew away from him.