#perturabo/reader

[mothiir]

hard at work

cw: free use, dubcon. sorry that this took so long @moodymisty

—

The whimpering and squealing of a baseline human would, normally, infuriate Perturabo beyond measure — he despises it when the noncompliant refuse to die with even a scrap of dignity, and he finds pleas for mercy irritating, as well as vaguely offensive. He is the Lord of Iron: what he has decided will come to pass, and no human’s mewling will dissuade him from his path.

This, however? This is whimpering of a different type; whimpering that he already knows he will have to hear again, and again. You have barely spoken a word since he scruffed you in the corridor and dragged you to his office. All you managed was a puzzled, “My lord?” before he flipped you face down into his paperwork and got to work preparing your cunt for his cock.

He had generously allowed forty five seconds out of his schedule to stretch you, and yet he ended up taking seventy four seconds. The feeling of your tight, silky walls around his calloused digits was far more pleasant than expected, and he indulged himself a little too much, petting around inside, enjoying the way your mewls peaked as he brushed against your clit.

Still: this is about his pleasure, not yours — he is the one who needs to remain at peak physical and mental condition in order to effectively march in the Great Crusade (not that anyone lets him do any marching — oh no, it’s hold this outpost Perturabo, tear this down, now let Dorn take over—)

Anyway. He saw you for the first time a few weeks ago, and had your schedule rearranged so you were often working near his quarters — that way, when there was a gap in his never-ending work, he would be able to have you with the minimum of fuss.

(He did not ask your permission for this, of course. Why would he?)

He pours a generous quantity of oil onto his cock, slicking it up, before rubbing the head over your dripping, twitching cunt. You squeal at the feel, and mumble something indecipherable.

“Speak up, woman,” he growls.

“I said — t-too big — “ you manage, and he grins. It is absurd, really, that such an obvious fact sends a pleasurable shiver down his spine. Of course he is larger than you. He is more than twice your height. His cock is wider than your bird-bone wrist.

And yet.

“Say it again,” he says, as he starts to push in. Your little legs kick helplessly.

“Too big,” you say. Your cunt resists his incursion valiantly at first, holding firm against the assault; but he is The Breaker, and every city will fall to the unshakable penetrating iron he wields. With an audible pop — and another pained squeak from you — the fat head of his cock wedges inside, where you are plush and warm and clinging.

“Again,” he orders.

“Big, too big —“ you stammer, the salt-scent of your tears sweetening the air. He thrusts in: shallowly at first, little pushes into warm flesh, working you open. You cry out with ever palpitation of his hips: wordless squeaks, like some small mammal.

How long has he got left? He checks the timer on his visor. He’s still wearing most of his armour, having removed only the bare minimum — but already he is planning to have you in his bed next time, when he can strip himself bare, and feel your breasts pressed against him as you bounce and squeal on his cock. He will have to shorten his sleep cycle to allow himself the time, but it will be worth it — he’s barely five minutes into the endeavour and already he is cursing himself for not trying you sooner. His normal shameful mastabatory sessions, conducted every other month to ensure appropriate functioning, pale in comparison to this.

“Too big,” you echo, this time without prompting, apparently having picked up on what he wants you to say. Such a quick learner! He grabs your hips, fingers overlapping on your stomach, where they feel the pulse of his cock beneath your flesh. He’s carving a home for himself, pushing your guts out of the way to make room for his cock. Your body will be forever distended around his cock, marked as his. “So big, I can — “

The breath is punched out of you as Peturabo begins to fuck you in earnest — he wants to draw it out, but alas, there is work to be done. Useless sons to forge into a legion worthy of his name. Siege engines to craft.

Your hands scrabble on his desk for purchase, displaying some of the flimsis. “I — I — “ you manage, each exhalation a sob, body slack in his grasp. He grinds deeper, the head of his cock pressed into what he knows is your cervix; warm, fluttering muscles grasping at him, clinging to him, begging for him. He cannot stop; he will not stop. He will have you in his bedroom, bent over and sobbing; he will split you open on his cock when this damn world falls, and he will fill you to the brim, fill all those empty spaces inside you, until you cannot move without feeling his release sloshing about.

Then, to his sheer astonishment, you gasp out another slurry of words, tightening around him — cumming. Climaxing. On his cock. On him. He’s fucked you into an orgasm, and oh it was not intended, was not needed, but the way your cunt twitches and grasps at his cock is what he needs to send him over the edge, emptying his balls inside you in a series of long staggering bursts. You’re too small to contain it all, and it starts leaking out around his cock before he even pulls out, pearlescent streams dripping down your thighs. He rocks his hips back and forth a few times, relishing the obscene squelching of his own spend.

“My — my lord,” you manage, and Perturabo drags his cock free, staring at the way your cunt gapes open in its wake, puffy and sore. He’s torn you, just a little, and he shoves a clean (ish) bit of rag into your hand as you swoon across his desk.

“Clean yourself up and get back to work,” he says. “I will send for you when your services are required again.”

You stare at the rag, and at him. Your face is almost as pink as your cunt, swollen with tears; ink smeared on your cheek. “Buh?” you say, and he glowers.

“I have to work. Get off my desk, get back to work. I’ll have you again soon.”

You remain splayed over his desk, his seed starting to drip down your thighs. He’s killed his own sons for acts of insubordination lesser than ignoring his direct order three times, but he is feeling merciful — besides, there is something vaguely distasteful about killing one whose womb is still stuffed full of your cum.

Instead of asking again, he shoves you off his desk. An average desk for a Primarch is a good distance to fall for a human, and you land with a sharp cry of pain.

Perturabo turns back to his schematics. The calculations, which had seemed so opaque before, blossom into perfect mathematical sense; destruction given glorious form. He knows precisely how to win this war — and precisely how to celebrate when he does.

[moodymisty]

I am back to ask for more peterturabo fics. He is a petty boy who i love dearly. Do anything you want i love all your warhammer fics so much

Author's Note: You had me at Perturabo, friend. Here's some writing of turbocunt, hope you enjoy. It's sort of a rehash of a drabble I did not long ago. But I'm kinda amazed how weighed my requests are towards chaos. Y'all are some horny heretics.

Summary: You feel like a creature on display, surrounded by curious Primarchs eager to learn about Perturabo's littlest warrior.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Perturabo's shitass attitude, General 40kness, Gossipy Primarchs because when you're emotionally stunted demigods stuck up in a palace or on a battleship someone getting laid is probably international fucking news

Word Count: 1255

"I see the littlest Iron Warrior has made a return to Terra; Was Olympia to your liking?"

The uniquely loud but gentle voice stops you dead in your tracks, and only after two distinct pairs of steps come thundering closer do you dare to turn.

It would take someone of extraordinary denseness or hermitic nature to not recognize the Angel Sanguinius as the source of one pair of footsteps, though his companion alludes you for a moment. He's almost as pristine as Sanguinius, but there's a particular aura around him that is distinctly different. When Sanguinius says his name to fully catch his attention, you remember.

Fulgrim, The Phoenician; Perturabo had spoken of him a sparse number of times, though most hadn't been the most positive. Then again, he rarely speaks of his fellow Primarchs in any other way than with sentences filled with disdain and pejoratives.

He looks right at you, through you, and you try not to completely melt under his gaze. You swallow a knot in your throat as you realize you haven't even said a single word, though you don't really get the chance to. You must have been the subject of a previous conversation, judging by the phrasing of his next sentence.

"She's not what I expected of him."

You dare to glance towards Fulgrim. Was that meant to be a snub? A compliment? Is he insulting Perturabo?

You had only meant to make it back to your chambers before it got dark, the chance of crossing not one but two Primarchs was an astronomically low one.

The Angel smiles, gentle and soft. Just like the pristine white feathers of his wings. He laughs, presumably at your apprehensive mien.

"Oh come now, we won't bite."

Sanguinus' smile is gentle, while Fulgrim scoffs. His smooth white hair slides down over his shoulder, covering a portion of the elegant purple cloth he's currently wearing.

"Says you," Fulgrim's expression is what you can only describe as cold, but not emotionless. He's controlled, elegant and pristine; Like a flower carved from ice. "I'm sure being around Perturabo hasn't helped matters. He isn't exactly the most amicable company."

You swallow that same pesky knot that stays in your throat again, and give a nervous smile.

"He has his moments."

Sanguinius' face lights up upon hearing your voice, perhaps a bit mischievous at the tidbit you'd spilled. Fulgrim is the one who speaks up, however- eyebrows raised.

"Oh really? Tell me; Does actually have a bone capable of a romantic emotion in his body, or does he just fiddle with machinery all hours of the day?"

You smile fades a bit, pursing your lips shut tight like you're attempting to lock them for a moment.

"I, don't think he would be pleased if i said anything more on the subject." Sanguinius wings shift.

"Then we won't keep you from him any longer." He looks to Fulgrim, and you dip your head as you move out of the way and they pass you by. You continue standing in the middle of the massive hall for what feels like forever, just staring at the gold filigree and ornate tapestries.

But once you manage to unstick your feet, you finally make it to Perturabo's private chambers. Iron Warriors pass you by, on guard duty while their Primarch stays in the palace. They grant you entry on his orders, but you can feel the energy coming from them isn't the most positive. But their gene-sire is Perturabo, afterall. You won't proclaim he has the most amicable personality.

When you enter the foremost room of the massive bedchamber, you see him slightly hunched over a worktable. You can't quite see what he's fixing from this angle, but it appears to possibly be something relatively small in comparison to him. He looks away from it to you, brow furrowed.

"What is with that expression of yours."

Brushing a chunk of hair behind your ear, you purse your lips. Tools are scattered across the table, stained with oil and scuffed from use. You still can't quite see what he's working on when you shift a bit to your left.

"I met Primarch Fulgrim and Primarch Sanguinius."

The change in his posture is immediate, and energy palpable. He doesn't ask where, so you assume he has a general idea that they crossed you on the way here. His brow is furrowed as he stares at you, thin lips tight.

"And what did they say, or did they merely try and pry as much information from you as they could get?"

Would it make him more upset to say they did one of those things, or both?

You purse your lips to one side, trying to find the right way to word it. Perturabo's eyes glance between you and his current project multiple times.

"They didn't say much of anything. Other than that I wasn't what they expected of you. I'm, not entirely sure what they meant by it." He makes a noise somewhere between a hum, and a displeased grunt.

You stand still for a moment after speaking, before coming closer to stand at his side. He moves his arm for you to come even closer, and silently assists with helping you into his lap. It's been something you've been doing more as of late; Perturabo is always working, and this is one way you can manage to steal a bit of his time. He doesn't mind it either. And if anything, he seems to enjoy when you watch him make things for you.

"I didn't tell them a thing. I didn't feel like it was something they should know." He continues working, but you know he's listening. You wring your hands and try to dislodge this feeling in your gut. Your feet dangle off his legs, feeling small in the shadow of his chest.

"I feel terrible because, they're Primarchs; But they aren't my Primarch."

Perturabo lets out a one note laugh.

"If their prides were so insulted that you managed to skirt around their questioning, then they can say so to me. I'm in need of the amusement."

You watch closer at his hands, and realize he's tinkering with something for you.

It's an automata, he calls it. Something that is powered by an unknown machinery inside. It just looks like a bunch of baubles and gears, to you. All you know is that each have a key that when you turn it, makes them move. You have many of them already, it seems this one is shaped like a small Iron Warrior.

Perhaps he just enjoys making the little things. Not much will ever be difficult to the Primarch, so maybe he just finds their simplicity and clumsy mimicry of whatever he's cast their silhouette in silly. They entertain you, at least.

Sitting it down onto the massive table, he closes it's back and winds it up, watching it stomp across the table in the pose of a proper Astartes march. When it slows to a stop, you lean forward to pick it up.

It's heavy, and while it looked small in Perturabo's hands, it's massive in yours; Around the size of your head. He watches you hold it from above, you can feel his gaze on you. You try not to smile as a bit of a mischievous thought crosses your mind.

"You should make one that looks like Sanguinius."

The Primarch lets out a surprisingly loud gauffaw. His left hand lands on your thigh.

"The next one, perhaps."

[floralynn-arts]

ONWARDS, MY SOLDIERS!

HOLDING THE PRIMARCH + THEIR DAD IS COMPLETE!!

THANK YOU FOR THE PATIENCE, I HAD FUN!!

[yagodnyizefir]

Magnus told him to be more romantic

[baldieboi]

You prank the Primarchs (wholesome pranks). How do you prank them and what's their reaction? Part 1

Note: I tried. Keyword is tried. I decided to make it into several parts because for some Primarchs I still have no idea. For those whom I already had... here they are.

@ghrgrsfdesfrfg

Perturabo

Perturabo scowled at the hololithic display in his workshop, fingers twitching over the controls. The schematics for his latest siege engine flickered then dissolved into a looping animation of tiny, cartoonish Titans dancing in a conga line.

A note fluttered to the floor.

'Even the mightiest walls need a break. Enjoy the show, Lord of Iron.'

His jaw tightened. His first instinct was to crush the projector in his fist but then against his will a snort escaped him. The absurdity of it, the sheer audacity of someone slipping past his defenses to do this…

He exhaled sharply. "Clever," he muttered. Then after a pause he added "But next time I will find you."

(He kept the animation saved in his archives. Just in case.)

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman’s stylus paused mid-signature. The document before him was wrong.

'Request for Immediate Deployment of Ultramarines: Operation Tea Party Diplomacy. Objective: Convince Ork Warboss to switch to chamomile.'

He flipped the page.

'Estimated casualties: One (1) teacup, shattered in the inevitable scuffle.'

His brow furrowed. Then slowly he pinched the bridge of his nose. "This is not how standardized forms are formatted," he muttered. But when he spotted the tiny doodle of an Ork in a frilly hat in the margin the corner of his mouth twitched.

By the end of the da the falsified document was pinned to his office door with a single red stamp: 'Denied. But amusing.'

Rogal Dorn

Dorn entered his chambers to find a small, intricate structure on his desk. A fortress. Made entirely of brightly colored plastic bricks.

A note rested beside it. 'Your move, Praetorian.'

He stared. Then with deliberate care he knelt to examine it. The walls were sturdy, the gatehouse functional, the towers… slightly uneven.

"Hmph." He adjusted a block. Then another.

Two hours later when his equerry found him, Dorn was still there surrounded by scattered bricks, his expression one of deep focus. "The foundation needed reinforcement," he said as if that explained everything.

(The fortress remained on his desk for weeks. No one dared touch it.)

Horus Lupercal

Horus unrolled the battle plan with a frown.

'Phase One: Deploy all forces in the shape of a smiley face.'

'Phase Two: Hope the enemy is too confused to fight back.'

'Phase Three: ???'

'Phase Four: Victory (probably).'

He blinked. Then slowly a grin spread across his face. "Oh, this is good," he chuckled, tossing the scroll to Maloghurst. "Find out who did this. Then promote them."

Maloghurst sighed. "My lord, this is a security breach—"

"And the first laugh I’ve had in weeks," Horus said, still grinning. "Worth it."

Lorgar Aurelian

Lorgar’s quill froze over the parchment. The sacred text he’d been transcribing now read:

'And lo, the Emperor did say unto His sons: 'Stop being so dramatic. Have a cookie.''

He stared. Then with a slow bemused smile he set the quill down. "A jest at the expense of divinity," he mused. "Bold."

He almost crossed it out.

Instead, he left it and added a tiny footnote: 'Editor’s note: The cookie was, in fact, delicious.'

Konrad Curze

Konrad’s claws flexed as he stepped into his quarters. The room was wrong.

A chalk outline on the floor. A fake bloodstain (paint, he noted instantly). And a note pinned to the wall with a knife:

'The Night Haunter’s greatest fear: A world without crime. (Also, you left your window unlocked.)'

Silence. Then a low, rasping chuckle left his mouth.

"Clever little thing," he murmured, plucking the knife free. "But next time… I’ll be the one leaving you a message."

(The next morning you found your bunk suspiciously filled with rubber bats. Progress.)

Alpharius – Omegon

You slipped into the dimly lit strategium of the Alpha, heart pounding. This was either the best idea you’d ever had or the last mistake of your very short life.

You left a single data-slate on the hololith table. The message was simple:

'We know you’re not Alpharius.'

Then you waited.

Hours passed. Nothing.

Then as you turned a corner in the ship’s labyrinthine halls a hand clamped over your mouth and yanked you into the shadows. A voice, low, amused, and impossible to place, whispered in your ear:

"Are you sure you’re not Alpharius?"

You twisted but the grip didn’t loosen. A second voice, identical, spoke from the darkness ahead:

"Or perhaps I am."

A third, from behind: "Or me."

You swallowed hard. This had not gone as planned.

Then as suddenly as they appeared the hands released you. A single, mocking laugh echoed down the corridor.

When you checked your pocket, you found a new note:

'Good try. But next time, leave a better trail. –A'

(You spent the next week triple-checking your own identity. Just in case.)

[druidwolf21]

HIIII LOVE YOUR WRITINGS! But I wonder how would the primarchs cuddle the reader?

AAHHH THANK YOU!! 🥺

You wanna know how they cuddle do ya?

We'll hopefully you like this!

A/N: are some of these out of character? Absolutely

Did I want to make this whole thing fluffy

ABSO FRIGGIN LUTLEY

Some of these are longer than others simply because I don't write the characters too often!

Cuddles with the primarchs

Lion El'johnson.

"Come here"

Your breath caught in your throat as lions deep voice rumbled through your chamber. He sat slouched in his chair, emerald eyes trained on you with each small step you took towards him.

"Yes, my lord?"

The primarch continued to watch silently as you stepped closer, before swiping out and grabbing your wrist. You yelped as he hauled you into his lap and buried his face in the crook of your neck, wrapping his great arms around you and holding you close to him. His breath was warm on your neck as he inhaled your scent and you laughed, wiggling your arms free to loop them around his neck and run your hands through his golden hair.

"If you wanted me to hold you, you just have to ask" you cooed, tilting your head allowing him to nuzzle into your collar.

"If I want to hold you, I will" Lion huffed, grumbling slightly and you fell into a warm silence. Straddled across his lap, you combed your fingers through the silken strands as he squeezed you to his chest.

"Of course, my Lion~"

Fulgrim

"Now where do you think you're going?"

You giggled as Fulgrim gripped your waist and hauled you back onto the bed with him, pulling you flush to his bare chest he wrapped around you. Silvered hair tickled your neck as he kisses over your cheek.

"Fulgrim stop we need to get ready"

The primarch felt hot as he hugged you closer, mumbling into your neck.

"They can wait, let me hold you just a little longer~"

Resignation set in and you sighed, scooting yourself backwards to press against him. His lips turned up in a smirk as he kissed along your throat.

"5 more minutes my sweet, then I promise we will get up"

Perturabo

"Did you think I wouldn't notice?"

Perturabo stood over you, leering down as you glared back at him.

'Did you think I wouldn't see that stupid face you were pulling? Trying to catch Dorn's attention?"

His scowl deepened when you rolled your eyes and waved him off.

"I was not making faces at Rogal Dorn, you're being ridiculous"

Barking laughter broke from him as he took a knee and grabbed your chin, pulling you to face him.

"Am I not enough for you?"

Perturabos voice was harsh as he spoke, but staring back at him you saw his eyes soften and his lips twitch, insecurity threatening to claw its way through the rage and boil and the surface.

"You are" you relented, reaching up to cup his face. "You're always enough"

His grip on your chin released as you wrapped your hands around his neck. Large hands found your waist and pulled you close, lifting you off the floor and clutching you to his chest.

"You're ridiculous" you sighed, kissing his cheek as he held you.

"If you ever do it again-"

Perturabo trailed off, squeezing you slightly as he spoke.

"I know. I know"

Jaghatai Khan

"It's freezing out here!"

You curled up against the Khan's broad chest as you sat precariously on the jet bike, hugging the chassis with numb fingers.

Jaghatai chuckled and leant over you, flicking the engine off with an easy movement. The roar of the engine cut instantly, but heat continued to radiate through the metal.

"It is not so bad" he laughed as you pressed your cheek to the rapidly cooling engine cover.

"Not for you, you're super human. I am just a normal human"

The Primarch hummed and reached down, prying your fingers off the bike. "come here then"

"No no no, it's warm please just let me warm up"

You whined as he pulled you from the heat and watched with wide eyes as he unbuttoned his coat, popping the front open to reveal his broad scarred chest.

"Come here"

He spun you and pulled you against him, wrapping the dense fur around you and pressing you to his bare skin. The difference was immediate, heat radiating through you.

"Better?"

You lent your head back, grinning as colour began to return to your cheeks. His chest vibrated beneath you when you nuzzled back beneath the jacket and he laughed, cupping your back with his hand.

"Oh yeh, much better"

Leman Russ

"Down! Get down!"

2 pairs of eyes gleamed at you as you struggled to rise from the bed, held flat against the mattress by a thick layer of fur and a mass of muscle on top.

"Freki, Geri, get down! I have things to do I can't stay in bed all day"

You pushed yourself up onto your elbows, wheezing and collapsing back down when a massive paw slammed into your chest followed by the wet drag of a hot rough tongue along your cheek.

Both wolves stood over you, ears pricked and tails wagging softly as they stared at you with vivid amber eyes whilst Freki's clawed paw rested on your stomach.

"Look I promise we can cuddle later, but I seriously have work I need to do-"

"Wolves don't bargain, they take what they want"

Leman's voice was rich and heavy with laughter as he stepped towards the edge of the bed shrugging a heavy furred cloak to the floor.

"I'm very quickly learning that"

He chuckled, reaching over the scruff his hand across the top of Freki's head.

"Alright enough, off"

With a low whine, the weight on your body lifted as the wolf released you, stepping back and settling on his haunches next to his brother towards the bottom of the vast bed. You sat up and groaned, stretching the ache from your back and watching as leman sat on the edge, pulling his snow trodden boots off and tossing them aside.

"Thank you, honestly I wish I could stay in bed but I have to UUFF-"

you promptly found yourself sprawled in your back again as leman lay next to you and rolled over, pinning you beneath a muscled arm.

"Are you serious! I have things to do! And you do! You're a primarch you can't spend all day in bed"

Russ grunted, pulling you toward him.

"Fenris is cold, little one. I'd hate for you to freeze"

He opened one icey blue eye and grinned.

"besides, didn't I just say you can't bargain with wolves"

Your retort was interrupted as, with an excited bark, the two wolves launched themselves towards you, sliding against your back and pressing into your legs as they curled up around you.

"Fine. Five more minutes"

Rogal Dorn.

"Rogal"

"...."

"Rogal"

"....."

"Roooogaaaaaallllll"

The praetorian sighed and dragged his hand down his face before looking over at you.

"Yes?"

"I'm bored"

He stared at you blankly, pen hovering over the diagram on his desk midway through writing.

"You interrupted me to tell me you are bored"

You nodded, smiling softly as he sighed again, tossing the pen aside and leaning back in his chair.

"You realize I have work to do? Important work"

"I know. But you've been doing it for ages, I think you need to take a break"

Steely eyes softened slightly as you stepped towards him and sat on his knees, leaning your back against his chest.

"I'm almost done" he muttered, placing a large palm on your waist and tracing a small circle into your skin with his thumb

You sat propped against him, dozing in his lap listening to the bellow of his lungs and the soft scratch of ink on parchment. His hand stayed present on your hip and his lips pressed gentle kisses to the crown of your head as he worked, enjoying the quiet companionship as he held you close.

You opened your eyes, blinking sleep from then as you looked around. The candles had burned low and the ink had long since dried on the schematics littered across the desk. You felt firm arms wrapped around you and you slid your head up, along the thick fabric of his shirt.

"Hey" he whispered, smiling slightly.

"Hi" you snuggled back down, relaxing into his arms as the last of the candle wick burnt down to cinders.

Konrad Curze.

"You're so small."

"Compared to you I am"

"And soft"

You leaned back and frowned at the night haunter, untangling yourself from his long arms with a scowl.

"Remember when we talked about things that sound good in your head, but are weird when you say them?"

"Yes"

"Yeh that's one of those things"

Curze flashed a grin, bearing jagged fangs as he pulled you back towards him. Hunched over in a dark corner in the bowels of the ship, the sound of ceramite and bellowing astartes was muted beneath tons of iron and the roar of engines.

"But you are. You are soft."

You conceded with a low huff and a roll of your eyes, allowing him to pull you back into his lap. In the darkness, you felt his hands run along your arms and his lips press to your temple, blind to everything except the flash of sharpened teeth. In the belly of the nightfall where light faltered and the noise was faint, Curze held you close, savouring the feel of your warmth against his bare skin.

"You are small and warm and soft"

He shook slightly as he clung to you, grounding himself and inhaling your scent.

"Soft and warm and so so fragile"

Sanguinius

"I'm sorry, I can't right now"

Sanguinius brushed past you into the room, tossing his cloak to the side. You gathered his cloak, struggling under the size and weight as you dragged it off the bed. You stilled as the heavy scent of iron hit your nose and a flash of scarlet across the fabric drew your eye.

Draping the material across a chair, you sat on the edge of the bed watching and waiting.

The angel stood near the window, the vast view of bhaal stretching out behind the frosted glass as he scrubbed his hands in a basin, the water slowly turning red. Tension was thick across his body, his shoulders stiff and wings puffed. He ran a soft towel across his hands and tossed it aside with a hiss.

"Sanguinius"

He glanced over his shoulder at your voice, watching you intently as you straightened the bed sheet before patting it.

"Sit. Please?"

With a heavy sigh, Sanguinius stepped over towards you and fell to the mattress, your body lifting as his weight hit the bed.

"Lay back"

Staring at you for a moment, he reluctantly slid backwards, spreading his arms wings across the silken sheets as he lay on his back with his legs hanging off the edge.

You shuffled, pressing yourself against him as you snuggled up to his side. Using his chest as a pillow, you ran your hand along the wall of muscle, tracing small shapes along his stomach.

After a moment, his own hand lifted and his finger trailed along your shoulder before gripping you and pulling you on top of him.

"Rough day?" You mused, pressing your ear against his pecs to listen to the dual beat of his hearts.

"Indeed"

"It's over now"

Sanguinius sat up suddenly, straddling you in his lap as his wings wrapped around you, shielding you both.

"yes. It's over now"

Ferrus manus

"What is this?"

"Not something you should be touching"

"what about this?"

Ferrus reached over and yanked the tool from your grip, placing it back on the table.

"It is not for you"

Rolling your eyes you folded your arms, pouting as the primarch continued to focus on his work.

"Ferrus'"

Silver eyes flicked to you before returning to the tools.

"Ferrus!"

With a growl he slammed the item down, rattling the worktop as he spun to you.

"What"

"You're the one who asked me to come here, so why are you ignoring me"

Ferrus Manus pinched the bridge of his nose, scowling and taking a deep breath before replying.

"You wanted to see my work, this is my work"

You softened, unclenching your arms. You had complained he left you alone too often, forgoing the limited time you had together to ticker in his workshop. You hadn't realized this was his attempt and making an effort.

"I know" you stepped towards him. "Im sorry"

Ferrus nodded, turning back to the table before pausing. With a grunt he lifted you, setting you down on a large stool near his worktop.

Stepping behind you he lent over your shoulder, his breath hot against your cheek as he spoke. Taking your hands, he moved them over each item on the desk.

"This is used to augment the cardiac valves in the astartes to ensure maintained pressure output from their heart."

He moved your hand to another device and his lips moved to your neck.

"This lens allows for increased optical resolution when sniping"

"and what's that?"

He scoffed, lips twitching against your throat.

"That's a screw driver"

"Oh"

He released your hands, placing his own metallic palms around your waist.

"Don't worry, you'll learn"

Angron

"Deep breath"

You knelt in the bunk as the primarch rested his head on your thighs, eyes crunched shut in pain. Running your hands along his cheeks and temples you slowly worked your fingers through the tense muscle.

"It's ok, I'm here"

Angron's teeth ground against each other as another wave hit him, the nails biting deep and flooding his body with rage. You moved along his jaw and down his neck, wincing as the muscle spasmed beneath your touch.

"You should go" he spat, wincing up at you.

"No it's ok"

The primarch head jerked and his fingers clenched at the sheets as another wave hit him.

"Im here, I've got you"

Angron's body shook and he snarled, spit flying from his jaw

"Why? Why do you stay. I could kill you"

"But you won't"

"I can't hold you" he whispered, twitching as he fought the nails.

"But I can hold you"

You bent over, cupping his cheeks as you pressed a soft kiss to his forehead.

"I'll hold you as long as you need"

Roboute guilliman

"Roboute?"

Guilliman blinked up at you as you stepped into his office, a large steaming mug gripped in both hands.

"I thought you'd still be working, so I bought you this"

You stepped up to his desk, sliding the recaff across the surface and smiling sadly at him.

"You should take a break, you're exhausted"

He shook his head, dragging a hand through his short crop of blonde hair before taking a large swing of the coffee and wrinkling his nose.

"Is there sugar in this?"

You shrugged. "you need your energy"

Reclining back in the massive chair, guilliman puffed out a heavy breath and gestured over the forms across the table.

"I'll finish these and then come and join you a little while ok?"

Shaking your head you clambered up onto the desk, sitting on the forms and missives as you placed yourself directly in front of him.

"Come here"

You spread your arms wide and waited. Roboute cocked a brow at you before sliding his chair forward. You took his head in your hands and pulled it towards your chest.

"what are you-"

"Shhh"

You held him there until the tension began to leave him, the weight of his head becoming heavy in your hands as he slowly began to relax. He wrapped his own arms around your waist and nuzzled against your chest.

"Better?"

"Better"

Mortarion

"You should see this mortarion!"

You lent against the guardrail, staring out of the port side window of the endurance as it floated in orbit around the green planet.

"I've seen it"

"No really, it's beautiful!"

You heard the heavy wheeze behind you before you felt his presence.

"Look! Isn't it amazing!"

You leaned over further, pointing out through the glass.

"Be careful" he coughed, cold hands gripping into the back of your shirt. "It's a long way down if you fall"

You flashed a grin at him over your shoulder, catching the twitch of the mask on his face as he smiled back.

"I'm not scared, besides if I did fall I'm sure you-"

Creeeaaakk SNAP

As if on cue, the railing snapped. You floated for a split second, still gripping the split railing as your eyes turned down to see the control deck far below. Air rushed around your face and you opened your mouth to yell.

Suddenly you were yanked backwards, Harshly tossed to the floor as mortarion stood over you, eyes wide and body tensed.

"What did I tell you?"

Before you could reply, the pale king dropped to his knees and hauled you against him, one cold hand clutched to the back of your head as the other dug into your back.

"Be careful" he hissed, coughs wracking his body as he fought the panic that had risen so suddenly.

Mortarion froze as you slowly lifted your arms and wrapped them around his neck, pressing your face into his collar.

"Thank you"

Magnus

Magnus lounged on the large chaise, one leg kicked up against the cushion and the other propped on the floor as he flicked through the tome in his hands.

"Magnus?"

He paused, looking up from the page as you staggered into the room rubbing your eyes.

"Yes? What's wrong?"

"I woke up and you were gone" you whispered. "I was worried"

He cocked his head, red locks falling about his face and sympathetic smile as he spread his arms wide.

"Come here, little one"

Still blinking sleep from your eyes you shuffled forward, falling face down across his chest and sprawling across him, tangling your legs around his.

"What are you reading?"

"Would you like me to read it to you?"

Magnus placed a large hand on your head, soothing you as he spoke.

"In the age of man, before the imperium-"

Horus lupercal

"well aren't you a sight for sore eyes"

You laughed, sprinting towards the warmaster as he pushed his way into your chambers

"Horus! I missed you!"

He chuckled as you flung yourself towards him, easily lifting you so you could cling to his neck, peppering his cheek with kisses.

Carrying you with him, he perched himself on the edge of your bed, falling backwards and rolling to pin you beneath him.

"I was so worried! I heard you were injured"

"Greatly exaggerated tales" he mused, pressing his forehead to yours.

Pressing a kiss to your forehead he sat back upright, draping his heavy fur around you and pulling you to his side.

"Luckily Chaplain Erebus was able to help me before things got too out of hand"

You snuggled against his side with a contented sigh, enjoying the feeling of his strong hands holding you tightly.

"I'm glad, it sounds like he looked after you"

"Indeed. All is well"

Lorgar aurelian

Lorgar sat on his knees before you. wide eyes and lips parted, he stared at you like you hung the stars in the sky.

"My love, my love" he whispered, over and over as you ran your hands over his shaved head and cheeks.

"Yes, I'm here lorgar"

He rested his head in your lap, closing his eyes with a blissful sigh as you danced your fingers across his skin.

"Hold me" he cooed, tilting his jaw to meet your fingers. "Bless me with your touch"

"Let me embrace you, lorgar" you hummed, your voice distorted as the world flickered around you.

"Yes, embrace me"

"Join me, Lorgar... Forget the imperium... And join me"

Vulkan

"You are welding that incorrectly"

You threw the hammer down, sweaty and irritated as once again the dagger warped in the heat. Vulkan laughed, watching you throw you hands up exasperated.

"It takes time to get this right, don't get angry"

"That's easy for you to say!"

Turning your back to vulkan, you stamped your tooth and seethed. Glaring at the glowing forge you kicked and the anvil, hissing when pain shot through your foot.

"Take a breath"

You stiffened as vulkan knelt and wrapped his arm around you from behind. The heat of the workshop was nothing compared to the furnace of primarch that pressed his weight against you.

"you'll get there" he whispered against your ear, gently stroking your arm.

"I know"

"Now try again. this time, like this" he slid his hand from your hip, up to your shoulder and along your arm, gripping your wrist and flexing it"

"got it?"

"Got it"

Corvus Corax

The room was dark, only a single streak of moonlight creeping through the fluttering curtains and painting a silver streak across your face as you slept.

Corvus stood wreathed in shadows watching you. Your lips parted slightly as you mumbled. Stepping silently from the corner, he slipped onto the bed beside you, brushing a curtain of hair from your face.

"I'm back" he whispered, pulling the sheet over your shoulder.

You muttered and twitched at his voice, but remained locked in sleep as he curled up next to you, reaching over to pull you against him. Placing a large palm across your stomach, he pulled your hips against his and curled around you, sliding his other arm under your head.

"I'm here now"

He froze as you opened your eyes. blinking in confusion you twisted slightly, seeing the raven lord curled up behind you.

"Oh, am I dreaming?" You yawned.

"Yes, just a dream"

You nodded like you'd heard a secret and rolled back over, rubbing you head against his arm and locking your fingers with his long slender ones across your stomach.

"I hope I don't wake up too soon"

Alpharius/Omegon

"you know how I can tell you apart?"

The twins both looked up at you, identical looks of amusement as you glanced at them over the table.

"Oh really?"

"mhmm. And I can prove it. Come here"

One of the brothers stood, chuckling, he strode over and took a knee in front of you. You rose to your feet and opened your arms wide.

"Hold me"

The primarch smile broadened as he wrapped both arms around your waist and lifted you, spinning you around as he squeezed you gently. After a moment he set you down and you gestured to the other to do the same.

With a confident smirk he approached you. Dropping to kneel, he wrapped one hand around your waist as the other tangled itself in your hair, tilting your neck as he brushed his lips against your pulse point.

After a moment, you stepped back and pointed

"You're Alpharius"

Pointing to the second twin.

"And you're Omegon"

Alpharius laughed, clapping his brother on the shoulder.

"Very well done. But what if we weren't to touch you?"

You tapped your lip in fake thought.

"We'll I suppose I'd have to slap a sticker or something on your back, just to be safe"

You giggled as they stared at you dumbfounded.

"Probably best you just keep hugging me yeh?"

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

[monalisahyperdrive]

Primarch names from least moanable to the most moanable - entirely subjective.

Factors taken into account:

Name length

How easy it is to say

General vibes ('imagine having sex with a guy and having to moan gilbert')

I wrote this instead of sleeping. I don't know either. This is getting posted and I will probably never address it again if I don't delete it during my break tomorrow. I should not be given internet access past 11pm.

Perturabo

It pained me to put him all the way down (up?) here at the least moanable as I fear he may actually be one of my favourites, however... I am not delusional enough to ignore that not only is this a pretty long name, a good amount of people struggle not only to say it but to even spell it. Not at all dyslexia friendly. I would give it a good go but I feel like in order to enjoy yourself you kind of have to accept you will be calling him 'Perty' or 'Bo' or whatever you prefer.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius fans please spare me but this is a long ass name at 3? 4? syllables. I don't even know what you could call him for short instead. However, I don't doubt that it's entirely possible, I just think it would take a while to stop stuttering through.

Mortarion

Another long name. Are you sensing a pattern yet? I am. More moanable due to having less vowels than Sanguinius and less harsher (?) consonants like in Perturabo. Pretty middle of the road, easy to pronounce, could probably be easier if you just start calling him 'Morty' instead.

Alpharius / Omegon

Alpharius is again another longer name that I feel like I would trip over for a good couple weeks. I am NOT shorting it to Alpha. I must maintain my dignity, whatever crumbs of it remain. Omegon is an easier name - likely due to it having less syllables (3 rather than 4). However, I feel like the only way to shorten it would be 'Meg' and that would make me laugh and I would get distracted. Remember how I said this is subjective? This is why.

Jaghatai

3 syllables, easy enough to say, not a lot of vowels or harsher consonants to trip over. Incredibly doable, and I'm sure many have tried it. Hell, I'd certainly take a good stab at it.

Angron

Harsh G right in the middle, otherwise no complaints really. 2 syllables. Straight forward. You could certainly give it a good go.

Rogal

2 syllables - easy right? Wrong. Evil G right there in the middle again. Probably would have been higher (lower?) on the list if it was softened with maybe an H right after. Alas, it is not so.

Corvus

2 incredibly easy syllables. The V is a little evil (harsh) but with a relatively short name and a soft starting consonant I'm sure it's manageable. Best bird boy. Not much else to say.

Fulgrim

Although apparently a good chunk of people have given it a go - or at least his wives have - we're back to the G dilemma. Personally I'd suggest calling him 'Fulgie' - like Fergie but worse.

Konrad

Quite possibly the most normal name on the whole list. Konrad. Everyone can say Konrad. An easy two syllables with the harshest letter right at the start. Easy peasy.

Roboute

I actually don't know if this is 2 syllables or 3. I even went and looked on Reddit. Some people are saying Ro-Bou-Te, I've been reading it Ro-Boot. Either way these are easy, with the harshest sound being the T of all things. Either way I don't think moaning for poor long suffering Robert is too tricky.

Vulkan

Deceptively soft V and K. What a pleasant surprise. Anyone could moan this easily, and he'd probably be delighted.

Lion

Objectively this is incredibly easy, which is why it made it so high (low?) on the scale. However, I would argue moaning 'Lion' in full sincerity is somewhat hilarious. That sure is the name of an incredibly powerful (and unfortunately incredibly sexy) man.

Magnus

Easy to moan. Probably wouldn't mind if you gave it a go. Again, one of the easier names. I'm sure he'd be happy to tutor you on the subject.

Lorgar

Flows nicely, 2 short syllables, incredibly straight forward. Started mentally calling him 'Lorgie', never recovered.

Ferrus

Incredibly straight forward name. Ferrus, pronounced the same as Ferrous, like the iron tablets. Something something you should do it, it's medicinal.

Leman

Not at the top due to the time it took to decide whether it was Lee-man or Le-man (like lemon). Personal gripe, but if you've gotten this far down without understanding that I don't know what to tell you. Quick, easy, sure why not.

Horus

As much as I wish to be deeply spiteful and shove him somewhere unremarkable in the middle, I just can't do it. This is an easy name. Don't worry, if you struggle at all I'm sure he'd be willing to let you keep trying until you figure it out. Bastard.

[thethronezone]

What do you think the Primarchs would want their wedding to be like?

This is assuming the Primarchs are marrying for love aka not an arranged marriage.

Mortarion - It's a small, very private ceremony held on his flagship. There's a few banners, the serfs have placed new candles, there's even a few flowers. Lowkey but it has a strange sort of earnestness behind it. Honestly though, Mortarion would rather just elope but for his beloved he will grin and bear with it. This is for them, after all. Maybe a dozen people invited, mostly to serve as witness as Mortarion says "I do" and his beloved does the same. Ditches the reception though and instead leaves with his spouse for their honeymoon.

Fulgrim - Since he's the kind of person to have planned his own wedding since he was like 8 years old, Fulgrim is very specific with how he wants it. He's a bit of a bridezilla, to be honest and will yell at at least a handful of people because they do something 'wrong'. It is a beautiful wedding though. A garden/paradise world, ice sculptures, delicacies from all over the galaxy, an orchestra playing both the classics and his and his beloved's personal favorites.

Angron - It barely counts as a wedding. Angron just kinda grabs his beloved and, in front of a bunch of his legion, states "From this day on, this is wife/husband/spouse. If anyone has a problem with it, speak now or stay silent." Of course, no one raises any objections, mostly because there's a look on Angron's face that promises a quick, gory death to anyone that does (it also helps that Kharn is glaring at everyone, urging them to shut the fuck up or else). Satisfied with the submission, Angron nods his head and dips with his, rather startled, wife/husband/spouse.

Magnus - Hope the guests likes the arcane cause that's the theme of this wedding. Magnus wants the wedding to be memorable and unique so he cooperates with his sons to create a magical display. Balls of light hovering in the ceiling, instruments that play themselves, magnificent fireworks etc.. Then there's the speeches. Because of course Magnus is going to have a lot to say during the wedding, both during the ceremony and the reception. He wants everyone to know how happy he is!

Perturabo - MEGA BRIDEZILLA. Don't get me wrong, it's an absolutely beautiful wedding with elegant decor and a scenic venue but dear god, Perturabo is acting like an absolute dictator as he tells everyone where to put things and where to go. Some poor serf is going to burst into tears when he starts yelling at them for using the wrong shade of white. He said eggshell white, not ivory! Alas, that is the prize of perfection. It's not overly pompous or so fancy that its distasteful, instead there's this subtle beauty to everything, the feeling that even the most minute details were considered and have a purpose.

Alpharius - There's no actual wedding day. Instead, the 'ceremony' takes place over a prolonged period of time, weeks and maybe even months. Small instances of sincerity, small tests of devotion. Their beloved is not told of the significance of these occasions or that they pass whatever test they are put through. All they know is that one day both Alpharius and Omegon start referring to them as their husband/wife/spouse and that's that. Congrats.

Lorgar - It's a very, very long wedding, with lots of speeches and ceremonials. Lorgar feels the intense need to thank god for giving him his beloved and make sure that their union is blessed. Seriously, he can't stop thanking god. There are tears in his eyes the entire time, he's so emotional. There's lots of hymns and songs, candles and incense everywhere. It's also a very traditional wedding though it still manages to feel very sincere and there's a genuine feeling of love.

Horus - Of COURSE the wedding takes place in the Imperial Palace, Horus would not have it anywhere else. And all his sons are there. And most of his brothers. Maybe even the Emperor. To Horus, the guest list is the most important part of the wedding (after actually getting married, of course). He finds it important for people to witness it, to partake and celebrate this union. Otherwise he's pretty happy to leave the rest of the wedding planning to his soon-to-be spouse.

Konrad - One word; elopement. Sorry not sorry but Konrad would rather rip off his own nails one by one and shove them up his nostrils than stand in front of a crowd and confess his feelings and vulnerabilities. It would probably end with a massacre, with his nerves geting the better of him. Instead Konrad wants a quite, private thing, just him and his beloved promising to be together forever. Some secluded location where no one can hear his whispers of devotion and promises of undying loyalty.

Sanguinius - Surprisingly hands off with the wedding planning? His sons practically beg him to leave it all to them and to just spend time with his fiancé. Besides, they know what he wants. Lots of light, a place with a high ceiling and great accoustics, a bunch of flowers (roses, duh!), live music and a wedding cake as tall as he is.

Corvus - Here comes the blushing bride! And by bride I mean Corvus. Mostly leaves the planning to his partner because he has no clue where to even start and is more focused on not getting cold feet and bailing. Does however request that it's a small wedding and that they only invite people that both of them know. Wants it to be intimate and happy, not some kind of pompous display.

Ferrus - A small, private ceremony with only a couple of his most trusted Iron Hands there to serve as witnesses. Oh, and Fulgrim of course. The ceremony proceeds quickly. A few vows and promises of loyalty, an exchange of rings and finally them writing their signatures on an Imperial document, making their marriage official. It's all over within the hour. Fulgrim is lowkey horrified by how simple and uneventful the whole event was but that's how Ferrus wanted it. He just wants to be married.

Rogal - He wants the wedding to take place either in the Imperial Palace or in one of his fortresses, partially because of safety reasons but also because of the symbolism. By getting wed here, he's proving to everyone that he's capable of sheltering and protecting his spouse. Very involved in the wedding planning and is, surprisingly, a bit of a bridezilla because he wants it a certain way and won't be dissuaded. There's a strict schedule to be followed and a dress code. And there will be cannons going off instead of wedding bells. Because cannons are more impressive.

Vulkan - Big wedding! Lots of guests! Vulkan wants everyone he knows to be there so it most likely ends up being an outdoor wedding. His sons are very involved in decorating the venue, making most of the decorations by hand. Vulkan himself makes the wedding ring. There's a live band but most of the music is going to be the guests singing wedding songs.

Lion - Super formal and traditional, more of a ceremony rather than a celebration. That doesn't mean that Lion is not happy and doesn't want to celebrate but that comes afterward, in private. To him, a wedding is more of a public spectacle meant to prove commitment. Still, he's got a reputation to uphold and so it is actually quite a beautiful wedding. Not cozy but elegant. Lots of banners and torches.

Leman - The wedding lasts for three days. First day is the exchange of vows and all that jazz but the rest of it? That's the wedding reception and it's straight up one big party. Lots of eating, drinking, dancing and telling stories. And so, so many toasts. It feels like every five minutes, some rando stands up from their seat, raises their cup and calls out a toast for the merry couple. And the longer the reception goes on, the drunker everyone gets and the toasts gets more and more, well, rowdy.

Jaghatai - Traditional Chogorian wedding, complete with all the customs, clothing and food. He's very proud of his culture and wants to share that with his spouse, invite them to take part in something he feels is very important. Of course, their own culture is also taken into account and implemented. Expect lots of guests, with White Scars, different tribes and family members. Magnus is definitely there.

Roboute - Very traditional, very formal yet honest and heartfelt too. Like, there are so many small little details that to most people, mean absolutely nothing but have some sort of meaning to Roboute and his beloved. So while it's a very formal event, he expresses his true feelings of love and devotion through these small details that only they notice. There's going to be lots of guests (even though Roboute would rather have a smaller wedding) but he's going to make sure that only those he actually likes gets seated close to the two of you.

[nightscythe]

Hii can i request how the primarchs would react to making reader laugh for the first time???

Tyy<3

primarchs when you laugh because of them for the first time

i need to preface this by saying i'm not funny, so dont' expect the primarchs to be either. pre-heresy antics

your smitten primarch becomes even worse after you laugh ᴗ͈ˬᴗ͈

lion: minutes into him trying to explain the importance of grip when you had a sword in your hands, something you mostly had ignored in favour of biting the inside of your bottom lip and nodding along sweetly with the gentlest smile, he’d made the beginnings of an innuendo that you’d not caught onto immediately. keeping your hand firm, gentle motions, you’d rezoned in at that point to try and understand exactly what he was trying to say it. he'd rambled on, but there was something about his delivery, how he continued like it hadn’t even occurred, that made you laugh. a little snicker at first, then something more. he'd stopped, almost immediately, blinking wordlessly at you with the slightest frown. you’re laughing at me, he’d grumble, not amused by your laughter. well, not until you told him you were laughing because of him. you’d just caught the slight blush over his cheeks as he turned away from you and cleared his throat to continue. he’d reference it again later, hoping to get a similar reaction. 

fulgrim: he’d noticed you’d been quiet most of the evening, even with his attempts to wow you. call him lovesick, call him hopelessly in love with you; he’d do anything to see you smile. so when you’re sat beside him, watching him carefully as he explains a story to you in great detail, he catches you completely off guard by impersonating his sons’ voices with near-perfect accuracy. and when you respond with a giggle, leaning into him without really thinking about it, you make his entire year. his eyes shine brighter, his grin gets wider, and maybe his ego gets a bit bigger. you’re so cute when you laugh, he tells you, reaching for a loose piece of your hair, how do i make you laugh all the time, i wonder? of course he makes it his life’s mission to see you happy at all times, especially if he’s the direct cause of your laughter and happiness. 

perty: company was never best placed with him, unless it was you. he could sit beside you for hours, watch you out the corner of his eye as you got on with whatever you needed to and accompanied his silence so beautifully. but this night he’d been so focused on what he was doing that he’d forgotten you were near him, subjected to his mumbled complaints over how the wires in his hands were far too small for him to work with and they were misbehaving as usual. his personification had got to you – just a smile at first as he spoke, then a laugh under your breath as you tried to continue with your own project. his eyes snapped to you immediately, his heart thumping in his chest as the sound replayed over and over in his head. the stare doesn’t cease for some time as he brings himself to accept what he was feeling; that was the moment he fell in love with you. 

khan: you’d not been part of the conversation, but as you always did when you stood by his side, you were listening. some banter between him and his sons, it wasn’t even that funny, but he laughed, then continued laughing, and you’d tried to stifle the laugh at your lips so not to give yourself away from eavesdropping. but a slight sound, the littlest breath escaped your lips, and he’d turned directly to you. do that again, little one? his question is voiced as he steps towards you, taken back by your unexpected, shy gesture. he leans down to you and gently continues, so sweet, aren’t you? i think i need to hear that again. and of course, he doesn’t care if you were eavesdropping on any of his conversations, so long as he gets to hear that again. 

leman: he was never quiet, especially not around you. but when he’d noticed your despondence when he spoke, how you barely seemed to pay attention, he didn’t take it personally. he offered you a place to rest, curled up on his chest, eyes heavy as he stroked your hair and wondered just how he’d been so easily tamed by someone so… soft. never being one for complete silence, he started telling you stories like he was around a fire with his sons, something ridiculously exaggerated from the depths of fenris and his childhood. he doesn’t even know what he’d said that got you, but when he felt you laugh on his chest, the soft vibrations as you curled into him, his smile could only widen. he swears you do it on purpose, make him fall for you even harder every time you do something new in front of him…

dorn: he’d been contemplating humouring you for a few days now. there were opportunities he could have said something intentionally bad to gauge your reaction, but it seemed like a risk to him. especially when one involved how structurally sound your bedroom would be with him. but when you’re walking beside him, a gentle silence between you both, he stops beside a poorly placed slab of concrete, and he tests the waters without any warning. an uncalculated risk (really it was nothing but he’s overthinking). i suppose that one was placed by my brother. you stop to look at him, pause for a moment, then chuckle before walking on. it didn’t matter to him; he’s practically beaming as he catches up to you. shall i make you laugh more often? like he needed permission – but you may regret saying yes when the jokes just seem to be more sleep-deprived rambles. regardless, in his lowest moments, it’s your laugh that replays in his head. 

curze: sometimes his humour came always naturally, and he wouldn’t realise he was saying anything that might amuse you. so when he heard you laugh behind him as he read over reports that really didn’t matter to him, he stopped immediately, hand mid-page turn. he turns back to you with his brows pulled together, almost cracking when he sees the grin still on your face. he can’t even meet your eyes as he asks you, was that because… of me?  though there was a touch of hesitancy before you nod, because sometimes with him it’s a guessing game of whether that was a good or bad thing, he hums and returns to what he was doing. it was nice, do it more. you wouldn’t need to be asked twice. 

sanguinius: he lays beside you, his golden curls just brushing your cheeks from how close you are. he usually found a smile gracing his lips whenever he listened to you, completely simping enamoured by you. you’d been telling him a story, one that seemed to get more dramatic as you went on about something you’d seen years ago. it was one of those ‘you have to be there’ stories, but he still listened, fingers idly brushing against your hand, still infatuated as you reach the climax of your story and end up basically snorting at your own words. your hands immediately fly to your face, embarrassed. but he just laughs along with you, pulling your hands from your face so he can coax you to continue. why do you hide? he asks, warm laughter still in his voice. just makes me love you even more. 

ferrus: he’d been hammering away when he’d stopped to inspect his work, not noticing you approaching. as he turned the metal between his fingers, he hummed, grumbling something about fulgrim’s poor interpretation of metallurgy, words not really registering with him as he focused more on the sword. but when he heard you laugh, it caught him completely off guard. he doesn’t even look at you as his cheeks become hot and he tries to bury himself in his work one more time, mumbling under his breath, that wasn’t meant to be funny. and it wasn’t, but he was cute. especially when he tried to hide his enchantment from how you’d reacted, peeking back at you from the corner of his eyes. your smile just made him even shier. are you trying to kill him?

angron: it was the first time he’d noticed you, actually. really noticed you. his humour, typically dry and unfiltered, wasn’t for everyone, but when he frankly explains that the past hour with an admiral could have been spared with one simple punch, you can’t resist the huff of laughter, and he catches it immediately. especially the way you try to hide the following laugh behind a cough and a stare down at the ground. he returns to what he was doing but only pays half attention to the conversations that followed. he thinks about it for days actually, every time coming back to the look in your eyes and the carefree sound. the logical conclusion? he’s in love with you. oh no. he’d taken blows that could kill him before, but somehow this was even worse. 

rob: he’d huffed something as he sat down at his desk, just beginning to acknowledge everything else he had left to do that evening. it was about magnus, he thinks, that his powers would be beneficial to sign a few thousand documents without getting a papercut. when you found amusement in his words though, he looked up to you, watching as you tried to hide your face and recompose yourself in front of the primarch. his intrigue prevented him from looking away. awe, fascination – he’d felt it all in that moment. he wasn’t usually dramatic, but it felt like everything else around him faded, you were the only object of his affection – and always would be from that moment on. 

morty: your hand just touched his as you laughed softly, head falling backwards as the grin widened on your lips. he just watched you, frown a little more prevalent. i didn’t mean to make you laugh, he tells you, nonchalantly, as though it was meant to convince him more than you. he didn’t think he was that amusing, especially complaining about the taste of disappointment, but you’d somehow found entertainment in it. his mouth feels a little drier as he tries to explain himself away, it wasn’t… there was nothing to indicate a joke. i do taste disappointment. when you laugh a little more, he maybe finds some humour in his words and lets his demeanour fall just a little. 

magnus: he was always assured of everything he did, except when it came to you. he could have a whole audience bent over laughing and find pride in it, but when you burst out laughing from his comment on how his brothers are yet to understand what impulsive behaviour truly was, he was completely frozen. he’d not expected you to laugh, and he stutters over his own words as he stares, eyes wide. i didn’t mean… he pauses as he tightens his jaw to prevent his lip from trembling just a little, did i sound stupid? his heart thuds in his chest for a moment until you say no, a sigh of relief as he laughs a little himself. he’d never truly get over his underlying anxiety around you, even when you were married with kids – cause he wanted to be perfect for you always, of course.  

horus: he’d been trying to make you laugh with poor excuses for dad jokes all night. every time he delivered one perfectly, then the final one he wanted to try, why did the picture go to prison? you’d looked up at him through your lashes, not flinching despite his obvious grin. he was framed. he laughs at himself, and you barely break a smile. didn’t help he’d been at it all night. oh, come on, he says, nudging your shoulder as if it would somehow make it funny, you know i’m hilarious. and as if all the times you wanted to laugh that night but didn’t, secretly enjoying his pathetically good attempts at it, you look away and exhale into a snort. you’d think he’d conquered the galaxy with how happy he is afterwards. worth every shameful moment, he tells you, cheeks almost hurting from his grin, same time tomorrow?

lorgar: humour wasn’t his thing. but somehow, as he’d run his hands over your body reverently, caught every nook and imperfectly and blessed them nonetheless, you’d laughed. gentle, shy, a reflection of your love as he told you that he’d accept the punishment of heresy for you. he wasn’t sure if it was a nervous reaction to his truth, but it didn’t matter – it showed him another piece of you that he could love with everything he had. his chest ached, his throat burned. he watched you, held you so carefully you’d think that without him, everything would be broken. but when he whispers against your temple later that he’d tear down worlds to hear that sound again? best believe it’s not a lie.    

vulkan: he’d joked about actually being fireproof, a relatively harmless joke that wasn’t really that funny, but given how you were looking up at him with huge heart eyes, you would have laughed at anything he said. he watched curiously as you looked down to the ground, lip pulled between your lip as tried to stop the coy giggle behind it. he reaches for your chin, tilting your head back up towards him as he leans closer. don’t hide from me, he says, smile drawn onto his lips, i’d like to hear that more often. he hums as he presses a kiss to your cheek, that’s everything to me. 

corvus: you’d been watching him carefully when he almost rolled his eyes and asserted that if everyone else learned to shut up, he’d have all the messes in his life sorted quicker (and therefore could spend more time with you). you’d laughed softly, looking away from him as you turned the laugh into a hum. when you look back, his eyes are wide, and you can’t help but laugh again. what did i do? he asks, suspicious of your amusement despite the way his pulse was racing. when you ask him not to look at you like that, all soft and wary, it somehow draws the shyness back in. he starts to smile, not meaning to glance down at your lips, but you’re the prettiest thing i’ve ever seen. your cheeks burn as you avoid his gaze. cutest, too, he adds, shifting closer to you, don’t think i could ever look away. 

alpharius: his hand held onto yours like you’d slip away if he took even an ounce of attention away from you. i have a tracker for your happiness, he says, eyes bright as he admits a secret he probably should have kept to himself a little longer, you’re on a ten-day happiness streak. luckily you think it’s a joke, so he gets away with his real-time tracker being hidden another day, not that he was thinking about that after hearing your laugh. he can’t help the burn in his chest and the way his lips curl. i made you laugh? he’d have to start a tracker for that too. do it again. please? and he’s still holding your hand, not prepared to let go until you just do that one thing for him. please.

this was unnaturally soft for me... i've got to write yandere sanguinius now to balance it out. i hate the word snort. this is peak sunshine and rainbows in 40k type shit. why did i make ferrus soft and shy? who knows. he's cute.

[heretical-cogitations]

Some Primarchs and what happens when they are rejected

Ft fulgrim, perturabo, horus and sanguinius

My brain tossed this at me randomly like 10 mins ago, so it's rushed, a lil yandere, a lil bit angsty, and probs ooc

Fulgrim

Genuinely things you are joking and when he realises you're not he leaves immediately. Then, he locks himself in his room for a week. In shock and disbelief, you must've been unwell and not felt up to saying yes , it's not him, you have to like him! He crashes out big time. You're the first person to say no to him, and once his sadness has passed, he resolves himself to make you see sense.

Perturabo

His anger flares in the moment and he says some pretty regrettable things (think nice guy well I never like you any you whore, I just wanted to give you a chance). Sees the look of pure digest on your face and realises he's completely fucked it now. Storms off straight to his room, and stress paints to avoid breaking things, muttering to himself the entire time about how he needs to fix this mess.

Horus

The dazzling smile that accompanied the confession twitches, and his face also starts twitching, which is honestly quite strange. He looks like he is trying to keep a straight face whilst eating something awfully sour. He is, in fact, going through the stages of grief in record speed and trying not to lose his composure. He was so confident you would say yes to him he had begun making preparations for you moving into his room. His mind is going a mile a minute, but the main thought is how can he get you to say yes what does hehave gp do and when can he start. You will be his, and he is willing to play the long game.

Sanguinius

gives you the saddest smile, but ultimately accepts it in the moment , asks that you don't see him any differently, and that things don't change between the two of you. A little bit of tension leaving his wings when you agree. He is beside himself. When he gets back to his chambers, he paces nonstop. His vision of the two of you together couldn't have been wrong, could it? He has pined for you for what has felt like a millenia, and the vision was the conformation he needed to act, so the reject made his world shattered. Now he is alone picking up the pieces, hoping that down the line, things will change, thinking if there is any way to experdite the growth of your affection for him .

Just going to slip in a lil bonus unserious corvus

Corvus turns off ur perception of him. You're not even sure if it happened. He is bawling, though.

[a-40k-simp]

Some one suggested to make a Perturabo next, so there it is:

If you think that sleeping with Peter Turbo here would cozy and wholesome, you are wrong.

You suggest to sleep together to have a moment between you and him, and take him away from work for a while. He begrudgingly accepted, only to show up with a computer that can be operated via connecting the user directly with the CPU trough cables.

But I can assure to you, he is extremely happy. Spending time with you in complete silence, while he do his work without any of his brothers to annoy him?

This is heaven to him!

Ps: I don't know a lot about Perturabo, so wrote this base mainly on vibes. I apologize to all Peter Turbo stans if I made some mistake.

[moodymisty]

Hi, if you're still taking requests for warhammer, would you be willing to write an x Reader with peterturbo or knorad?

Author's Note: Ok, so I decided to go with Perturabo, simply because as fun as it would be for me to write a Konrad fic because I enjoy writing horrible bloody angst, I didn't know if you'd be comfortable with that damage, anon. But then again... You did request him. (I also have no right to diss tastes in primarchs I love Angron lmao)

Anyways, ✨ Perturabo ✨. Enjoy. He's a raging cunt. But I love him uwu

Summary: Peturabo learns of Dorn's ascendancy to Praetorian of Terra, and you attempt to flee the boiling rage.

Relationships: Perturabo/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Perturabo's shit fucking attitude, Romance mixed with toxicity, Yandere!Perty if you squint real hard, General 40kness aka mentions of war and death, This would probably classify as an abusive/toxic relationship lmao, Witnessing Peturabo's slow descent into chaos IRL

Word Count: 1095

The library aboard the Iron Blood is monstrous. Any library you perused as a child has always paled to such a degree, that you need not even bring it up in comparison. Shelves tower over you that even looking fully upward doesn't show their full height, and behind them massive stained glass windows showing the unforgiving void of space. Stars glitter in the distance, or the occasional planet. Be it inhabited or not.

Little servo-skulls buzz overhead, most of them holding some form of parchment as they go about their secular duties. There's a Tech Priest fiddling away with their business that looks in your direction for a moment, before going back to their work. You can hear the faintest humming coming from them- mumbling in what you can only guess is machine language.

You could get lost in it all. Which is partly the goal.

You're avoiding him.

You had the moment you heard it, mumbled by Astartes having just felt their Primarch's own wrath.

Rogal Dorn, Primarch of the Imperial Fists, has been cast to construct the Imperial palace of Terra.

The moment you'd heard that news coming from the lips of a battered Iron Warrior, rattled physically in his armor to such a degree that he seems to have some form of brain damage, you knew you'd hear it from Perturabo's own booming voice if you didn't run. To be at the end of a Primarch's own barely contained rage, not even considering the idea of physical violence, is enough to make you scatter to hide from him. There's no amount of love that could smother that primal fear.

In the shadowed alley between shelves and shelves of tomes, your eyes cast towards the floor.

You remember one night when he was listless, he had knelt at your bedside and took your hand in his own- speaking of his plans to build a palace so obscenely grand all else would pale in comparison. Bath houses, amphitheaters, training arenas, it was like he was there himself, in the vast ambition of his own mind. Denied ambitions for Olympia mixing with his endless ambition for the future.

He promised you some of them that night; Saying things so grandiose you found yourself nearly crushed underneath the weight of them. He was promising you so, so much, gifting you a gilded future with a stern, far off look in his eyes and his fingers now tight around your jawline. Your own fingers had gently laid against his hand, so much smaller and softer than his own.

To have that dream shattered, so suddenly and so wretchedly by the man who's been Perturabo's similar in a way that infuriates him to no conceivable end; You know just as well as anyone else aboard the Iron Blood that he was to be avoided.

As when Perturabo is angry, there’s almost always a layer of bitterness underneath. A gripe, vile taste in his mouth, defeat from once again being assigned a role he seems hateful of. Or a role he's been denied.

The book bindings feel cold against your fingertips. These are largely battle logs, transcripts of recent battles created by the Tech Priests aboard. Most knowledge about the Iron Warriors history is stored much more safely in the chapter's Librarium. It's not to say these aren't interesting however; As someone who's duty is to the collecting of this information, you find the whole thing to be intriguing. But perhaps now isn't the time to take such interest in it.

You hear footsteps. Far too heavy to be any rank and file Astartes, and they hammer down with a level of anger that has your head shrinking into your neck.

You barely have time to pull your hand away from the tome binding you'd just been fondling, before you see him. You're instantly in his shadow, the light between these massive isles far dimmer than what is in the central area. And unless you were to try and dart right between his legs, you've nowhere to run. It's not as if you want to run from him, you love him, but you know how he can lose himself at times.

"You are avoiding me." You can see the barely contained anger on his face. You don't know if it's at Dorn, or at you.

"Why." You hold your voice firm so it doesn't crack, refusing to allow it to.

"I thought you would want your space." His brow furrows. The scars across his face shift, the one across his lip most so. You can always feel that one in the rare moments you kiss him.

"So you know." How couldn't you? The entire Imperium is privy, something this significant has spread over vox and every other form of communication at disposal. They all know Dorn is the Praetorian of Terra, not Perturabo.

Damn them to the Warp. He doesn’t need any of it. All he needs are the plans in his head, and you.

He kneels before you, and it takes everything within you to not do a back step. But when he reaches a hand out towards you, you gently take it. Your feet move of their own accord as he pulls you closer to him, until his armored shin is nearly touching you. Peturabo has always been massive- he's a primarch, but his armor adds so much bulk that it makes him nearly inhuman.

"I will give you all of that which I promised you."

Your eyes catch his, pools of brown looking down at you. His warmth is in there somewhere, you think; Can you find it? Or is it already gone?

You try to whisper his name, whisper Bo- but it comes out so quiet that your voice doesn't even sound out, your lips just forming the silent word as a fruitless, pathetic effort. His hand is tight around your own, it almost begins to hurt. You doubt you'd be able to yank it from his grip if you'd even wanted to.

"No matter how many planets I have to level, or how much blood I need to spill,"

This isn't for you; This is for his own endless ambition, his own need to prove he's everything that he says he is and so, so much more. His hand finally lets go of yours and cups your jaw- but the metal is cold and unforgiving like iron, so unlike the rough, scarred but warm skin underneath. He's promising you the future but you don't want it, you just want him.

"You will have it."

[solspina]

Rating primarchs based on how good of a boyfriend they would be

full send no context

─── ⋆⋅ ♰ ⋅⋆ ───

Horus : 8/10

He’s a nice guy for the most part, very charismatic and though very goal focused he’s also kind and open to those he’s closest to. Outwardly, he’s very straightforward, stern, and absolutely ruthless to his enemies. There’s humanity within him though, and he won’t keep his friendly, loving demeanor away from those who deserve it. Find him at a celebratory event, drunk with Sanguinius, moments in which he’s full of nothing but laughter and love for his brothers and the one who stands beside him. His love language is quality time.

Leman Russ : 4/10 (negotiable)

Though he knows love, it seems to be quite strictly familial. He’s described often as ruthless and barbaric, naive and braggish. If you can put up with things like that, I’m sure he would be a fine boyfriend. Similarly enough though, he’s had many women try to court him all at once, and successfully. I can’t promise his loyalty if someone better looking comes along, as no one ever taught him the importance of that. Outside of the constant, lingering fear of replacement, he can have his caring and understanding moments, occasionally bringing you gifts from crusades and sieges on other planets. Maybe his loyalty to the emperor would apply to his lover too, if you tell him what it means to you. His love language is gift giving.

Ferrus Manus : 7/10

Rage is his fatal flaw if we’re being honest. Not towards you, but towards battle. Toward you I imagine he would be more straightforward and honest, though trustworthy and strong willed to make your relationship work. Loyalty will never ever ever be an issue with him, but it seems like he spends more time with war and battle than he does you. He spends time with you when he can, though, and he truly does care. Points off for his temper. He gave his brothers personalized gifts, and i’m sure he would go through many lengths to do the same for you. His love language is gift giving.

Fulgrim: 6/10

He’s constantly trying to be perfect, and he wants whoever he’s with to be perfect too. A lot of the time, it gets to his head. He can be incredibly ignorant quite often, and isn’t very considerate of your feelings. You’re more of an idol to him, a model. You’re human, so he sees you as perfect, something he and his people should strive to be like. Youre idealized, and under rose tinted lenses, this looks a lot like love… Lots of acts of service and gift giving.

Vulkan : 10/10

The only man you will ever need point blank period. He’s patient, he’s empathetic, he’s kind, he’s humane. He’s incredibly easy to love, and he truly is beloved. The Salamanders love you too, sometimes listening to your commands as if they were his. You’re respected as long as you’re under his arm. He wants to understand the way humans feel, especially understand the reason they wrap their arms around each other and sleep with their bodies entwined at night. His love language is physical touch.

Rogal Dorn : 6/10

He’s incredibly loyal, and also incredibly honest, but his seriousness can get in the way sometimes. You love him, very much, but there are times you get into petty arguments and he has to go consult Horus and Sanguinius for advice on what to do. He’s also very reserved at times, a lot like a single dad who’s just doing his best to keep his job and go about his day. Acts of service would be his love language.

Roboute Guilliman : 9/10

Guilliman is a great boyfriend, a great tactician, a great warrior, all of the above. The only reason i’d take a point off is because I believe he may be a little arrogant at times. He believes that his way is the right way, but he’s usually willing to listen to you and your concerns. He’s incredibly intelligent, very sympathetic and understanding of human trials and concerns, and he’s a lot like we are modern times. I think he would look for comfort in a significant other, and his love language is likely acts of service.

Magnus the Red : 3/10

Another man that I don’t recommend being with. He’s more arrogant than Fulgrim. When I said Guilliman believes his way is the right way, Magnus takes it a step up. He thinks he’s ALWAYS right. He cares, and he means well, but he’s way too much to put up with. Highly manipulative and self absorbed, don’t put yourself in that situation. He values knowledge more than he does you.

Sanguinius : 10/10

Besides the fact he’s a vampire, you’re probably the most safe with him. He genuinely cares for you and your well-being, and sleeping next to him at night with his wing draped over you is an absolute dream in a universe plagued by war. His sons may fall to their bloodthirst when they’re on the home ship, and Sanguinius is fast to wrap himself around his human partner and protect them from any and all harm. You hold him through his sorrow every time a mass of humans or his sons lose their lives, and you watch him kneel to offer you his loyalty and unconditional love rather than you offering it to him. He gives both physical touch and words of affirmation.

Lion El’Jonson : 7/10

Of course he has his moments where he can come off as aloof and paranoid, but that’s for the most part only on the battlefield. Outside, he’s incredibly charming and charismatic, but in a noble way. When his paranoia gets to him after an argument, he seeks out Sanguinius and Horus for advice, wanting nothing more to fix your relationship and solve whatever went wrong. He become more secretive as time goes on, but old habits die hard. I believe he’d offer acts of service.

Perturabo : 6/10

He’s incredibly smart, but finds relating to you and your human tendencies incredibly difficult. His moods can shift and change rapidly and violently, but I believe he means you no true harm. He would never hurt you intentionally, often opting to back away and give himself space, sometimes for days. He never returns to you without a mechanically engineered gift, though, one of his design. Alongside a very gentle hug and a conversation about how you care about him, what he loves. You love him, not for his usefulness to the emperor, but for him. His love language is definitely gift giving.

Mortarion : 8/10

He’s very confused as to why you would choose him. He’s disgusting, an abomination, he hated everything from psykers to his oppressors, what did anything matter if he would be left to the mercy of another oppressor anyways? All thoughts he had until he met you. He was cold and hateful to you at first, untrusting, and yet you showed him kindness. You showed him kindness over and over again. For once, it wasn’t just a one time thing. You’re the only thing in this universe who sees him as more than a warlord, more than the embodiment of death itself, so for you he has a soft spot. He hates the idea of having a human curl up next to him, absorbing his warmth and disease alike… and yet you do. You remind him that his touch is not deadly, and he too is capable of humanity. He will be more considerate of his decisions, because for once, something matters. His love language is physical touch, because he’s been deprived for so long, you’re the only one who allows him that piece of humanity.

Lorgar : 5/10

Does he love you? Does he not? No… He needs you… Maybe he just needs space actually.He loves you, he really does, and by god he tries his best, but when you’re as impulsive and indecisive as he is, it’s hard to know sometimes. If you’re okay with it working 50% of the time, maybe more maybe less, I’m sure you’ll be fine. His love language is… uh… well?

Jaghatai Khan : 7/10

Loyal, decently humble, and a relatively peaceful man. Outside of war, he has potential to be great to you. When war is his focus, however. Expect no attention, he’s a fierce warrior and needs to focus on his allegiance to the emperor, that’s what comes first. You follow very closely after, though! He’s quick to praise you for the things you do well and gently remind you of a better course of action when it comes to the things you don’t do too well. Acts of service enjoyer.

Konrad Curze : 2/10

DO NOT DATE THIS MAN. Konrad is a walking red flag. The self loathing, the anger, the angst, the general belief in humanity as a fallacy. He’s also incredibly violent, and may cause you serious harm if you ever managed to anger him. He’s a primarch, and you’re a human. Don’t you dare piss him off. I don’t know why anyone would realistically want that. Please continue to paint him as mean angry babygirl with a soft spot in your fics though. If you think you can fix him, you can’t. The emperor already tried.

Angron : 4/10

Before his conversion to chaos, Angron would’ve been a great boyfriend if we’re being honest. He was kind, compassionate, encouraging. He loved you when you were enslaved beside him, but once he became a primarch and lost everything, his beloved included, he became one of the most ruthless and cruel people out there until he succumbed to Khorne. He doesn’t remember you. His love language was words of affirmation.

Corvus Corax : 4/10

A very melancholic and depressed primarch. He’s very angsty and honestly a major drag to be around. He and Konrad, i feel like, would be better boyfriends to each other than either of them would be to you. Corvus isn’t as violent as Konrad, but he definitely carries on the hatred, the sorrow, and the bitterness. He’s also very sensitive, so expect to be met with either violence or a breakdown if you try to leave. 2 extra points because you may get to keep your life, his love language is words of affirmation, always followed by self deprecation.

Alpharius Omegon : 7/10

He’s they’re a great boyfriend to be honest, though very secretive, and that raises many questions. You don’t know that there are two of them. It’s a secret, not even one that you’re allowed to know the answer to. Alpharius is obviously the more dominant brother, the one who you think has a soft side. He doesn’t. That’s not him, that’s Omegon. Omegon is much more gentle, quiet, and quite honestly a little more touchy. Why? because you make him feel seen. Alpharius is used to the spotlight, so giving him every ounce of your attention feels like the usual, though he still enjoys it very much. Alpharius expresses love through acts of service and gift giving, while Omegon expresses love through words of affirmation and quality time. They make up for everything the other lacks, as long as you don’t know the massive secret they’re keeping from you…

[diabolicalevil]

No context handing a Primarch a cat

I'm thinking about the freaks again,,, love those guys

Lion El'johnson: grabs it by the stomach and immediately tosses it to the ground. he knows it will be fine cause he's also a kitty

Fulgrim: if its a siamese, ragdoll or one of those expensive ones he'll start fawning over how gorgeous and elegant it is. other breeds he'll be very confused and a little intrigued. if it's a black cat he'll point at it and go "that's you" to ferrus manus

Perturabo: do not hand this man a cat he will hurt it!!!! on accident. and he'll be self loathing about the only thing he knows how to do is destroy until the end of time. and you're like yeah ok whatever but we gotta take that thang to the vet man

Jaghatai Khan: deeply amused, he thinks it's cute but will pass it back to you. unless it visibly has zoomies. "a fine warrior!" he will proclaim as it runs around

Leman Russ: dog person, doesn't like cats at all but he's experienced enough w animals to hold it properly. frowning so hard and puts it down quickly but gently

Rogal Dorn: he's holding it two handed like its a really big subway sandwich. very confused, just so baffled. if he let's it stay and it walks over his desk he talks to it very sternly about how that is Not appropriate behaviour. it does it again

Konrad Curze: DO NOT GIVE THIS MAN AN ANIMAL TO HOLD. he scares it away with his freak aura, for the best tbh

Sanguinius: curious but amused. the cat is going AT it trying to attack his wings but he's holding it very nicely I think sang loves animals

Ferrus Manus: annoyed I'm afraid. he's also worried he'll hurt it and passes it off to someone else. under no circumstances is that "someone else" someone from his legion, they cannot be trusted

Angron: another do not give this man an animal. its cute to him however ☝️ he is aware he might hurt it and is very quick to let it run off

Roboute Guilliman: confused but he's so tired everything is confusing him. he just treats it like another Thing to Handle and puts it on the stupid useless paperwork pile. if he ever locks back in to reality I think he'd find it very cute. it lives in his office now

Mortarion: annoyed. he doesn't like animals as much as plants but if it's a rarer breed of cat he'll quietly observe it like a bug for a little while. otherwise he's shoving it back to you immediately

Magnus: MAGNUS CAT DAD PROPAGANDA he has ten squillion cats in his library and this one is coming home with him too

Horus Lupercal: laughs, he thinks it's very amusing. handles it clumsily but he's doing his best

Lorgar Aurelian: extremely unfamiliar with animals, they're not allowed in the temple so he doesn't know what to do with it and hands it back to you

Vulkan: the best cat holder on this list. any confusion is not relevant he's holding that thang as if he personally gave birth to it

Corvus Corax: not interested and thinks it's weird you'd hand it to him, hands it back by the scruff of the neck

Alpharius/Omegon: kitty gets too confused and runs away

[baldieboi]

I decided to try writing some Primarch x reader content. Here's my first try.

How each Primarchs would react when they hear about your (their wife) pregnancy?

Lion El’Jonson

The Lion would be stunned, his usually unreadable face betraying a flicker of disbelief. He’d question the logistics first. How could this happen, given his engineered nature? Once convinced it’s real then he’d become intensely protective, almost to a fault. He’d worry about his child inheriting his burdens (the secrets of Caliban, his own inner darkness).

He’d build a fortress of security around you, ensuring no harm comes to you or the child. He might struggle to express joy openly but late at night, he’d rest a hand on your belly, silently vowing to shield his family from the galaxy’s horrors. He’d also secretly dread being a distant father, fearing he lacks the warmth a child needs.

Fulgrim

Fulgrim would be ecstatic, seeing the pregnancy as the ultimate expression of beauty and creation. He’d view the child as a masterpiece in the making, a perfect blend of his and your essence and a testament to the heights humanity can achieve.

He’d shower you with affection, composing poetry and music for the unborn child. He’d design an exquisite nursery, obsessing over every detail to ensure it’s flawless. He’d talk endlessly to the child in the womb, promising to teach them art, grace and the pursuit of perfection while ensuring your every need is met with elegance.

Perturabo

Perturabo would be conflicted. Part of him would be overjoyed at creating something not meant for war while another part would fear failing as a father. He’d overanalyze the situation, worrying about the child’s safety in a galaxy of conflict and whether he can provide the emotional support they’ll need.

He’d build an impregnable nursery-fortress, complete with defensive mechanisms (just in case). He’d also craft toys and tools for the child, wanting them to inherit his intellect. He’d be gruff but protective, awkwardly trying to comfort you while hiding his own insecurities about fatherhood.

Jaghatai Khan

The Khan would smile broadly, seeing the pregnancy as a new journey to embark on. He’d be thrilled at the idea of passing down the traditions of Chogoris, viewing fatherhood as an extension of his role as a protector.

He’d take you on gentle rides across open plains (if possible), wanting you to feel the wind as he does. He’d tell stories of his homeworld to the unborn child, hoping they inherit his love of freedom. He’d also craft a small talisman for protection, a nod to his cultural roots.

Leman Russ

Russ would let out a booming laugh, sweeping you into a bear hug (gently, of course). He’d be over the moon, seeing the child as the start of his own pack. He’d boast to everyone about becoming a father, unable to contain his pride.

He’d insist on teaching the child the ways of Fenris as soon as they’re born, already planning mock hunts and survival lessons. He’d be incredibly hands-on, always near you to ensure your safety, and would probably howl at the moon in celebration when the child arrives.

Rogal Dorn

Dorn would be quietly stunned, processing the news with his usual calm demeanor. Inside he’d feel a surge of protectiveness and purpose: he now has something more personal to defend than the Imperium itself.

He’d design the most structurally sound nursery in the galaxy, ensuring it can withstand any threat. He’d be a steady presence for you, offering quiet reassurance rather than overt affection. He’d also begin planning how to instill discipline and honor in the child, though he’d worry about being too rigid.

Konrad Curze

Curze would be horrified at first, fearing his child will inherit his cursed visions or dark nature. He’d struggle with the idea of bringing life into a galaxy he sees as doomed but a small part of him would cling to hope that this child could be his redemption.

He’d become obsessively protective, lurking in the shadows to guard you from any perceived threat. He’d whisper grim lullabies to the unborn child, torn between warning them of the galaxy’s horrors and wanting to shield them. Fatherhood would be a battle between his darkness and his desire to be better.

Sanguinius

Sanguinius would be overwhelmed with joy and sorrow. He’d see the child as a beacon of hope, a chance to create something pure, but he’d also fear passing on the curse of the Red Thirst or foreseeing their suffering.

He’d be endlessly tender, cradling you and speaking softly to the child about a better future. He’d craft beautiful things for the nursery, wanting the child surrounded by light. He’d also pray to the Emperor to spare his child from his own burdens.

Ferrus Manus

Ferrus would be conflicted: part of him would see a child as a potential weakness, a distraction from duty, but another part would feel a surge of pride at creating life. He’d struggle to reconcile these feelings.

He’d approach fatherhood like a project, ensuring every need is met with mechanical precision. He’d craft cybernetic toys (perhaps too early), wanting the child to be strong. He’d be distant at first but would gradually soften, especially if you help him embrace the emotional side of parenting.

Angron

Angron would be overjoyed in rare lucid moments, seeing the child as a chance to build a family he never had. The Nails would make him fear his own rage, worrying he might harm those he loves.

He’d be fiercely protective, vowing to shield his family from slavery or harm. He’d struggle to be near you at times due to the pain of the Nails but in clearer moments, he’d sit with you, speaking softly of a life free from chains for their child. He’d rely on trusted warriors to guard you when he can’t trust himself.

Roboute Guilliman

Guilliman would be thrilled but immediately start planning. Fatherhood would be treated as a new campaign and he'd want to ensure everything is perfect for you and the child from resources to safety.

He’d create detailed schedules for the pregnancy, ensuring the best medical care and nutrition. He’d read every text on parenting (even writing his own Codex Paternis). He’d be supportive but overly formal at first, though he’d melt when feeling the baby kick, showing a rare vulnerable side.

Mortarion

Mortarion would be quietly moved, seeing the child as a chance to defy the suffering of his upbringing on Barbarus. He’d view fatherhood as a way to create a life untainted by the horrors he endured, though he’d worry about his ability to provide a gentle environment.

He’d be a silent guardian, ensuring your health with an almost obsessive focus on cleanliness and safety, fearing disease or poison might harm you or the child. He’d speak little of his joy but would stand watch over you, determined to protect his new family. He’d plan to teach the child endurance, wanting them to survive any hardship.

Magnus the Red

Magnus would be fascinated and overjoyed, seeing the child as a new mind to nurture. He’d be thrilled at the prospect of teaching them the wonders of knowledge and the Warp, though he’d worry about the inherent dangers of psychic power influencing them.

He’d surround the nursery with protective wards and spells, ensuring no psychic harm comes to the child. He’d talk endlessly to the unborn baby about the mysteries of the universe, eager to teach them. He’d be incredibly attentive to you, using his knowledge to ease your discomfort.

Horus Lupercal

Horus would be elated, seeing the child as an extension of his legacy and a symbol of hope. He’d view fatherhood as another way to inspire and lead, thrilled at the idea of shaping a new life with the same care he gives his Legion.

He’d be a doting husband and expectant father, rallying his Luna Wolves to celebrate the news. He’d spend time with you, sharing stories of his campaigns while promising the child a galaxy worth fighting for. He’d want to instill leadership and courage in them, preparing them to stand tall among humanity.

Lorgar Aurelian

Lorgar would see the child as a divine gift, a sign of the Emperor’s favor. He’d be overwhelmed with emotion, viewing the pregnancy as a sacred event that reinforces his faith in humanity’s purpose and his own role as a spiritual guide.

He’d write hymns and prayers for the child, wanting them to grow up steeped in belief and reverence for the Emperor. He’d be endlessly devoted to you, seeing you as a holy figure for bearing his child. He’d plan to teach the child the power of faith, hoping they’ll share his vision of enlightenment.

Vulkan

Vulkan would be overjoyed, tears of happiness in his eyes as he embraces you. He’d see the child as the ultimate expression of humanity’s worth, something to protect at all costs.

He’d craft beautiful, functional items for the child: cribs, toys, even tiny armor. He’d be incredibly hands-on, always near you to help with anything. He’d teach the child kindness and strength, wanting them to be a light in the dark galaxy.

Corvus Corax

Corax would be quietly moved, though he’d worry about bringing a child into a galaxy of war. He’d fear failing them as he feels he failed others but he’d vow to protect them.

He’d be a shadow around you, always watching for danger but rarely speaking his fears. He’d build a hidden, safe space for the child, wanting them to grow up free from oppression. He’d teach them independence, though he’d struggle to open up emotionally.

Alpharius/Omegon

They’d react with calculated curiosity, intrigued by the implications of fatherhood. They might even question if the pregnancy is part of a larger scheme (paranoia is their nature). Still, they’d feel a rare personal attachment.

They’d ensure the child’s safety through layers of secrecy and misdirection, hiding their family from any threats. They’d be unpredictable fathers, sometimes distant, sometimes surprisingly involved. They’d teach the child to question everything, preparing them for a life of intrigue.

[aggresivemenace]

Physical consequences of sex with primarchs pt 1.

Pt. 2:

Bite marks: Russ, Sanguinius, Curze, Lion.

These guys LOVE marking you this way.

Sanguinius is the most gentle of all, always asking for permission before taking a little bite of his beloved wife. He hardly ever drinks your blood, only if you ask him yourself. He cherishes the taste: warm and a bit sweet, but refuses to associate you with mere sustenance.

Russ tries to be as careful as possible, but sometimes, he just can't hold himself back. If he draws blood or you complain afterwards, he’ll always apologize, then soothe the bite marks with his tongue to ease the soreness.

Lion openly enjoys it. He never draws blood, but he leaves his marks - ones you'll have to hide later. You are his woman, and in his eyes, that gives him every right to claim you.

Curze always draws blood, relishing the way you squirm and whine as his teeth sink into your delicate flesh. But when it’s over, he's an aftercare expert—rubbing alcohol into your little wounds while murmuring something dark and gruesome that, in his own crooked way, counts as a love confession.

Hickeys: Perturabo, Khan, Fulgrim

They like to kiss you, but sometimes get carried away...

For Perturabo, this feeling of control over you is absolutely intoxicating. When he presses his lips against your neck and feels your heartbeat through thin skin, he feels so damn significant. Significant for his wife, the woman he adores.

Khan leaves a scarlet mark on every part of your body that he likes, reminding you of his endless love. And since he adores you from head to toe, there will be many.

Fulgrim sees these marks of kisses as art. You are both his muse and his canvas, while he is your artist - obsessed and in love with his mesmerising nymph. In his eyes, your body is a magnificent meadow, which he paints with flowers: first in crimson, then blossoming into shades of yellow, blue, violet, and pink. His own pattern, his imagination in the form of colour.

Surprisingly, he does not see these traces of love as imperfections. Just as he marks you, he allows you to cover his neck with little hickeys or even bites. His shamelessness knows no bounds - he might even casually remark the next day, "Ah, my neck? My wife was particularly passionate last night!"

Pregnancy: Horus, Big E

YOU HEARD ME

*refuses to elaborate*

*leaves*

2 pt. with other bois is coming btw