#warhammer story

[epireancrusade]

After the deafening noise of the firefight, the following silence felt unnatural. Skel slowly pushed himself up from the floor where he had thrown himself when all hell had broken loose. Two lasguns firing on full auto had turned the cistern's tight utility hallway into a slaughterhouse. Harkon was dead. He had taken the Sacred band's warriors first salvo to his chest and as a result he had been almost sawed in half by hailing fire from six autoguns.

After the deafening noise of the firefight, the following silence felt unnatural. Skel slowly pushed himself up from the floor where he had thrown himself when all hell had broken loose. Harkon was dead. He had taken the first salvo to his chest and as a result been almost sawed in half. However, his body had covered Skel and Jessup who had opened up almost immediately. Two lasguns firing on full auto had turned the cistern's tight utility hallway into a slaughterhouse. Six Sacred band soldiers were shred to pieces and were laying all around the floor and in the the pool, it’s water slowly turning red.

”What a fucking shitshow!” Skel exlaimed, after making sure nothing was moving in the room anymore. ”I thought this area was supposed to be cleared already”, muttered Jessup, slowly descending the stairs, weapon ready. ”Yeah, well, it wasn’t”, responded Skel, his voice filled with sarcasm. ”Put the glory boys in charge, and they’ll sweep through the enemy lines, straight to the top! But they sure as shit don’t care much about the dirty work. No, that belongs to the lowly shits of the infantry! Crawling through these Emperor-damned hallways and sewer tunnels, every corner hiding these fanatic bastards, all too happy to cut your throat from one ear to another!” Jessup grinned dryly. ”Well, that’s Imperial guard for you! Only in death does duty end and so on. What were these fuckers even doing down here?” Skel walked on the lip of the pool. ”I don’t know… but look at those two in the water. Not your regular jarheads. you saw the masks?” Skel prodded one of the floating bodies with his bayonet, turning the face-down laying body around. Golden pins on the collar proved her to be a higher ranking officer, and the yellow ceremonial mask on her face was filled with symbols that made Skel’s stomach turn. He pushed body away from him, grimacing. ”Shit. Yep. One of those damn chosen ones. The priests, you know? Like the ones we saw in …” ”Yeah, I was in the Hab 90 too, remember?” Jessup waved her hand. ”I saw what those bastards can do. What were they up to in here?”

Skel stepped in the water, quietly cursing as the cold water soaked through his trousers. ”What are you doing?” asked Jessup, but Skel didn’t answer. He raised his lasgun, pointing in the darkness of the opposite wall. ”There. There is something in there”, he said, stepping forward. ”Wait, Skel. I think we should call the backup. If there were priests here, it can only mean that there was something warp-related going on…” she trailed off. Skel had fished his flaslight from his pocket and his light beam was aimed at the back of the room. He only used the light for a second, but even that short glimpse filled both guardsmen with unspeakable terror. The whole back wall of the room was filled with unholy markings. The twisted glyphs were almost like living things, and even a glimpse at them made Skel feel nauseous. He turned the light off. ”C’mon, Skel”, Jessup pleaded. ”Let’s get the hell out of here. This is bad…” Skel lifted his hand as a signal for quiet. The still water in the pool had just…moved. There was something under the surface. Skel took a step back, his face turning pale in fear. ”T-there is something in the water…” he said, taking another step backwards, rising his lasgun.  

Everything happened so quickly. One moment Skel was standing in the water, finger on the trigger, and then he was no more. Only a widening circle in the water on the spot he had been standing on. ”Skel? Skel!” Jessup scanned the surface through her sight. This was all going down the shitter and fast. Images from Hab 90 all those yeasr ago in Kissia flashed through her mind with terror-fuelled speed. All that blood. The warp-magic peeling off the faces of her comrades. The piles of dead, warping, turning to something… ”Skel! Come on! Please…” Jessup was losing her nerve, and fast. Skel was her best friend, but the terror was quickly overriding all of her brain funcions. ”Fuck this… Fuck this. I’m going, Skel! I’m going to get h…” and the surface broke.

The thump of the frag grenade going off was regocnizable even when it was muffled by a copious amount of water. Reflexibly Jessupp threw herself to the bloody floor, just as Skel flew over her head, followed by a stream of bloody water and klumps of something meaty. All of a sudden a terrible stench filled the air, making Jessup gag. She struggled upright, only glancing at the water, where something was slowly pushing itself up from the water. Only a glimpse to it’s many eyes was enough for Jessup to empty her bladder. She scrambled towards stairs, almost tripping over Skel. His eyes were open. He was breathing. His right arm was missing and his clothes were torn. Blood was flowing freely from the stum as well as from the several smaller wounds across the right side of Skel’s body. Jessup wasn’t gone too far to not recognize Shrapnel wounds. ”G-got the bastard…” Skel was muttering. Blood was flwing out from his mouth and ears as well. ”W-whit the…fr-frag. Got my hand…” Jessup readjusted. Her wounded friend became a focus point, something to concentrate, something to do to keep the madness away. She grabbed Skel’s left hand, making him squel from pain. By the emperor, he was falling apart. ”Fucking leave me!” Skel shouted, gritting his teeth. ”G-give me your gun and I… I’ll hold th-the…”

Jessup didn’t say anything. She simply hoisted Skel up over her shoulders. No time to tend his wounds. They would be long dead before he would bleed out down here. Skel screamed, he was in agony. Jessup stole a quick glance at the pool, saw how tentacle-like appendixes were pushing towards her, and finally gave up to fear. Screaming, she ran towards the stairs and then up. A screeching sound came from below, like a scream of a thousand souls in agony. Jessup was weeping, reciting the litany of emperor’s protection between sobs. The stairs seemed to last forever. She could feel the cold grip of fear in between her shoulders. At any moment those unnatural, warp-formed tentacles would grab her ankle, and pull her and Skel down, to a fate worse than death. How many steps left?

Invasion of Morentos VII was a success, but the events in the shrine-hive of Evelior soured the mood across the crusade fleet. The holy shrine of St.Evel, the ecclesiarchy temples and the monuments had to be destroyed by an orbital bombardment. The Sacred band, realizing they were losing their grip on the world, had conducted dark rituals all accross the holy city, infesting the city’s water supply with warp-born horrors. It was a small wonder that the imperial forces were able to retreat before it was too late, thanks to a duo of soldiers, who were able to escape after wthessing the birth of one of the creatures. After a short period in the inquisitioral custody the two guardsmen were released and trasferred to the Kissian 78th. Almost all of the Kissian units who had suffered through the ”horror” during the Noctis aeterna had proven to be quite resilient to the warp-taint, and the inquisition officials decided that further purges for the units involved was not necessary. Morentos VII was liberated, and the construction of a new shrine-hive was commissioned. The crusade headquarters could only find solace in the fact that the whole world was not lost to the taint.

A few billion more dead, a shrine destroyed, another world brought back to the imperial hold. The Epirean crusade kept grounding on…

[inquisitor-edgelord]

There is no truth in flesh... only betrayal

A Vox in the Void's most recent gut-punch, grimdark horrorshow with Cronenberg fever dreams of body horror and adeptus mechanics shenanigans.

[kasienda]

My three year old daughter came home with a Minnie Mouse figurine, distraught. The plastic toy was missing an arm, and my daughter insisted she couldn’t play with it because it was broken.

I told her that she could still play with it! That some people were born without an arm or that they might get hurt and lose an arm, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t still play or have fun. I explained that some people might get a prosthetic or just have a stub. And she asked what a prosthetic was. I showed her a picture and she was like, “oh! A robot arm!”

When my husband came home, she thrust the toy at him and told him, “Minnie needs a robot arm.”

He was very confused, but he prints and paints miniatures from various table top games. My daughter refers to them as “daddy’s statues.” She knew he could help Minnie. So he dutifully printed her out a robot arm from a warhammer 40k model on our 3d printer, and then they painted it pink and purple together.

All of this to say, look at Minnie Mouse and her new prosthetic!!

[Image description: three photos of the abovementioned Minnie Mouse figurine. One hand is the classic giant gloved  Minnie Mouse hand: the other is a robot arm, palm upraised toward the viewer, clumsily painted the same bubblegum pink as the rest of the figurine. /end ID]

Image ID courtesy of @wanderingthunderstorm

Here’s a post about how to create smoother miniatures for the anon. It’s about your printer. (Includes more typical examples of my husband’s miniature painting).

[solanj]

LOVE ME Proper context for this scene would take an essay to explain, so I'll only provide this: not long before this episode Heinrix left her. With an extremely good reason. (Well, he stayed on the ship since he's still under XC' orders but ceased all communication except what's strictly necessary for business) Silence copes with it (and her guilt) very, VERY poorly

[nevesmose]

The crowd found this amusing. Perturabo scowled at them. He had not intended to be funny.

Perturabo: The Hammer of Olympia by Guy Haley.

[sharenadraculea]

Thinking about a Dungeon Meshi x Warhammer 40k Crossover

Some ideas I allready have:

-Marcille is absolutly like „I will sell my soul to chaos to bring Falin back. I will resurrect the dead gods and if that doesn‘t work, I will create a new one. Not even the laws of reality will stop me from getting my girlfriend back!“ (Not much of a change there)

-Laios beeing a Space Marine and not understanding that regular people can‘t eat literally everything.

-Senshi figthing Tyranids and just beeing like „Yeah, I do that every thursday, they taste very good.“

-Chilchuck killed at least a dozen Comissars, because they made the working conditions intolerable aka treating the canonfodder army as canonfodder. Also he is maybe from Catachan but doesn‘t tell the others because Laios would want to eat the animals from there

-Izutsumi beeing Izutsumi

[mr-kench]

Theirs something brought to my attention about Helldivers that I don’t think many thought of but the Warhammer Fans pulled through again with the comparisons. For a bit of back story let me explain to you the most valuable Cannon Fodder that exists within Warhammer 40k. Everyone thinks of Space Marines when they think of Warhammer but they’re actually rare on a battlefield with most wars being preformed by their normal army, typically known as The Imperial Guard. Within the Guard is a Corp (or as they call themselves the Korps) Called the Death Korps of Krieg, or Kriegsman for Short. Long backstory made short they’re a group of Loyalistic Fanatics that were in Civil war for so long the planet turned into a nuclear wasteland and resorted to nothing but Trench Warfare. The winners surprised the Imperium by not only returning to the Imperium but already having a large contingent of Soldiers ready to enlist in the Imperial Army. Keep in mind that the Empire wrote them off as dead centuries ago and just abandoned the planet.

The Kriegsman are notable for the fact they do not fear death and instead embrace Death. They’ve been raised since birth to treat their own lives as expendable just to win a Centuries Long Civil War and that every death was worth it for just a few inches of land. Whenever a War Front gets too perilous and turns into a Meat Grinder the Empire says “Send in the Kriegsman” they’re thrown into hellish fights almost exclusively because they’re borderline suicidal and will do anything to complete a mission even if it means climbing on the bodies of their fallen comrades.

Helldivers are Kriegsman. They consist of the most Fanatic Among enlisted soldiers. Helldivers aren’t thrown in to win wars. In fact you’re not expected to survive your mission. Your thrown deep into enemy lines with no other support but your Fellow Helldivers, you Sabotage, Distract, Destroy Points of Interest and evacuate priority targets. Even if you die it’ll be considered a successful mission if you complete your goals. You’re Cannon Fodder given the illusion of being the best Super Earth has. You’re just there to jam the gears while the real fight takes down the enemy forces. You surviving is just a happy accident and you get to be more experienced Cannon Fodder for the next fight.

[transmechanicus]

Personal pet peeve in 40k novels or fan concepts is when a faction or subfaction has a generally well established influence in how characters are named and then a given author completely fucks it up. Tech priest names are broadly derived from the Russian Orthodox Church, Italian scientists, and/or scientific technical terms. The Death Guard commonly have monosyllabic names, are pronounced as they’re written, and tend to avoid the letter “I”. Blood Angels are named for Italian artists and biblical angels. Space Wolves are named like Orks name themselves. The Iron Hands have a naming scheme that is impossible for me to quantify but I can tell it’s there and someday I’d love to ask David Guymer about it. Like yes, maybe I am picky or my pattern recognition goes Brrr too hard, but if you slap a generic roman name on one more character who’s not an Ultramarine I promise you I will not read another word I’m sorry.

[dnd-smash-pass-vs]

They're elves of the shadowfell, normal human height. They specialize in teleportation and invisibility, with the casters among them throwing in confusion and fear and illusion. Be careful though, as any trained in combat start making non-elves slower and worse while within 10 feet. From depression, from the sound of it. Their angst about being more ancient and timeless than you wordlessly attaches to you like a parasite, slowing you down. Good for if you enjoy concepts like-

Shadows, but like DARKER than shadow, that lash out when they're moody

looking beautiful unless in shadow, in which case they're corpselike

ignoring pointless things like "comfort" and "morals" and "rules"

being the chosen of the Raven Queen, and on her behalf collecting dark tragedy, sorrow, and feelings of loss.

being corpse pale with jet black hair, pure black eyes, and covered with tattoos/piercings/anything that would make a generic white suburban mom in the 50's scream in terror.

Lumping them all together because they're all the same outside one having mage hand and such. Idc what weapon they're holding.

[lonesilverw0lf]

My take on the RWBY/40K idea. It’s not a ‘Jaune is a Lost Primarch’ that @guardsman-of-remnant or @the-wayward-arc have, or as thought out as @weatherman667 Astartes Chapters.

Juane was a normal guy who’s planet was destroyed. Then he decides to do something about it and potentially changes the course of the galaxy.

Jaune’s early life and world was dealt a bad hand. On a planet considered backwater, ruled over by incompetent lords, an over paranoid and self-righteous Inquisitor, continually and unrightfully drained of resources, repeatedly denied aid and due process, castigated for things beyond their control, and so on. Punished for ‘refusing to pay their tithe’ despite the fact they did pay the tithe but it was attacked by pirates. There was even a time when an enterprising farmer designed a better water pump, really all he did was find an older and better model and made more. Yet somehow the Mechanichum got wind of it and declared it Technoheresy. They destroyed every model and glassed a good swathe of the planet. Those are just a couple of many examples that Jaune was alive to experience. When everyday looks like hell, the Warp starts looking pretty good. Well between a Chaos uprising and a surprise Ork Waaah, alongside the possible threat of a Tyrranid fleet, the planet was declared hopeless and Exterminatus was ordered.

However instead of dying with the rest of the system’s population, Jaune was whisked away to another dimension. A pocket realm in-between the Materium and Immaterium. This realm was reined by a goddess yet not a goddess, who also sits in a weird in between with the materium and immaterium. Said goddess was an entity from another galaxy before the War in Heaven. She started off as just another galaxy conquering dragon, but after a few zillion years that got boring. Seeing the Old Ones and their creations she decided to observe. She’s got nothing but time, so why not? Over time she became loving, a gardener, a collector, a teacher. She doesn’t interfere with the Materium much because of her overwhelming power, and her control over the Immaterium is mostly spent keeping her corner of the galaxy protected from everything else. She’s pretty hands off and lets everyone else do their own thing, hence she didn’t take part in the War in Heaven. Or much else for that matter. She likes to watch the galaxy spin and all its different paths.

In her Library Jaune finds out the truth of the Horus Heresy, along with many other Heresies and major calamaties from alternate timelines that brought the Imperium to its knees and eventual demise. Horus Heresy, Robutian, Dornian, Lion, Erebrun, each and every Heresy and their potential variations. In a desperate bid to prevent these calamities, Jaune convinces his goddess to send himself and a motley collection of volunteers back in time to just before the Great Crusade. A Suicide Squad consisting of those that the Imperium would execute on the spot: Mutants, Abhumans, Heretics, Traitors, Xenos, Abominable Intelligence, and more. I’m sure Big E would get a laugh out of the irony.

Jaune knows that he can’t do half of what he wants to do. They can’t deal with anything big, like E’s journey into the Warp, the creation of the Primarchs and Astartes, the scattering of the Primarchs, the Great Crusade, etc. He can’t just go and tell the Emperor or Malcador about this. They won’t listen first off, and then they’ll just kill him for knowing too much, trying to play with things he has no business in, or just because Jaune refuses to kiss their asses.

He can’t just go out and pick up all the Primarchs and raise them like his own sons post-scattering. They’re scattered too far apart, their homeworlds need them in some fashion, the worlds are too big and dangerous to be looking for them, the Crew is always on the move which would be bad for their personal growth, each of them are too intelligent to not notice something’s different, they grow too fast for their limited resources, and more. Not to mention the unwanted attention they’d bring themselves from Chaos and Big E. That would spell doom in no time.

What they can do is use their knowledge of what happened and what could be to alter small yet key moments. A quick bombing run to eliminate the Butcher’s Nails factories, ensuring Corvus makes it to the surface, eliminating Kor Pheron, erasing Erebrus from the equation, keeping RG’s family alive from the deamon(Robutian Heresy story), warn and prepare several civilizations of what’s coming, plant a few bugs into each of the Primarchs’ flagships regarding certain orders, and more. These guys do not get a day off. They have to move in relative secrecy because who’s going to believe them? And those who may will likely have him killed for ‘interfering with the Emperor’s will’.

He’s met with relative success in his endeavors. Angron wasn’t implanted with the Butcher’s Nails, but with a different kind of device of similar purpose. This new set wouldn’t turn Angron’s brain to soup like the Butcher’s Nails did, this set gave him a form of split personality in the same way that Bruce Banner has with the Hulk. So Angron can be either the Stalwart Paladin type he was meant to be, or the Raging Barbarian type from canon. It’s a flip of the coin with him. Give the guy some more complexity than just rage rage rage.

It eventually comes to a point where he’s too far into the game to know what to do next. He’s changed too much to know the right call. The Primarchs are all gathered and conquering systems, so trying to do anything to them is out. Chaos has to know about his meddling by now, probably the Emperor as well. Despite the anti-aging tech, he's getting too old. His entire crew has fallen one by one. He’s the last man standing in this crusade.

Out of resources, options, ideas, allies, full of desperation, Jaune decides to throw one last Hail Mary. He calls in a favor from his Goddess, and through means that I haven’t decided on, gathers all the Primarchs in one room, locks the door, glues them to their seats, and lays it all out on them.*

He explains who he is, what his mission is, the nature and rise of Chaos, large parts of the Emperor’s plan, and all that. He tells them of all the potential futures, all the Heresies, the one where E decides to make Eye of Terror 2.0, one where all the Primarchs go balls to the wall mosh pit civil war, how each of them could/did fall, the War of Heaven, the Tyrranids, Necrons, Tau, many other subfactions, potential allies, those that would’ve been very helpful but were butchered, allies in one but not another, what E has done and his potential plans, their own half Warp entity souls, lots of history, lots of secrets exposed, what Jaune and crew have done, and so on.

He doesn’t hold anything back either. He rants on about how badly humanity has fallen, how logic and reason are replaced with fanaticism, progress with stagnation, the hypocrisy, the injustice, the stagnation and corruption of the Imperium, the bloated and rotting corpse of a once great civilization, the works. He even has a nice little partial Abominable Intelligence helping him out. It puts up all sorts of data, photos, videos, recordings, etc. to supplement Jaune’s rants. Just a little guy that gives intel like how Astartesanonymous, Majorkill, Isyanderandkoda, Livefromtheblacklibrary, Wes, and them give lore explanations.

 “But it’s only one guy who did a cute trick of keeping us in our seats and talks a lot, why should we believe him?” Sorry to do this to you Sanguinius, but he just casually drops the fact that your legion suffers from the Blood Thirst in front of everyone. The thing that you fought so hard to keep quiet from everyone and only a few even within your Legion knew about? Yeah that’ll get your attention, along with everyone else’s given how badly you react. Dropping a couple less dangerous secrets from the Lion’s assortment of secrets is also on the table. Pretty sure Alpharius wouldn’t mind getting pointed out as the actual first Primarch recovered, #sarcasm. He drops a little skeleton from each of their closets in front of everyone.

Suffice to say he isn’t going to be invited to any family cookouts after this.

He calls out each of them on their critical failures, dangerous shortcomings, hypocritical mindests, how easily they fell to Chaos, all the ways Papa E screwed up and is still screwing up, and more. All while calling them the stupid nicknames the Crew used. Mufasa, Simba, Long Johnson, for the Lion. Rowboat Girlyman, Bobby G, Robot Gorrillaman, for Robute. Fido, Balto, Scruffy, for Leman. And so on. He only calls them by their proper names once, at the very beginning when he was introducing himself and being respectful.

Is it smart to insult a room of the most powerful people in the galaxy and their daddy? Or talk down to them like the emotionally immature people they are? No. If it weren’t for the Goddess favor pinning them to their seats and disabling their gear and abilities he’d be dead and he knows that. They try to use their Primarch Aura on him, but after however long serving his Goddess he’s relatively immune to it. And he’s in such a IDGAF mindset that the most they get out of him is a raised eyebrow. It’d take one of the Chaos Gods’ or the Big E’s aura to really make him shake.

However pointing out flaws without a solution is just bitching. He gives credit where credit is due. He offers help and suggestions to a lot of their problems. He asks everyone to start appreciating Perty a little more, tells the Prophecy duo to get together and speak with some Farseers about their visions, commends the achievements of the Builder Brothers and ways to make their stuff even better, etc. He gives them self-help books, some psychiatric care books, and some insights from various sources to help out with some of their more human problems. God knows E isn’t helping them out with any of this.

Jaune had the foresight to make volumes of his findings. He drops many encyclopedias worth of books in front of them, all scaled up in size for their convenience. They hold everything. Names, dates, quotes, specifications, supply lines, blueprints, maps, numbers, persons of interest, items of interest, planets of interest, deamons of interest, xenos of interest, xenos that are beneficial to the galaxy and the Imperium, xenos that Leman can have fun exterminating, xenos that must be protected, xenos that can be uplifted, xenos that are up in the air, events that could happen, things that Jaune prevented from happening, nothing was left out. Not just books pertaining to the Primarchs and their dealing with Chaos, as both opponents and slaves to it, either. He also dumped books detailing events from the various futures for the next 10 millennia. Greatest victories, worst defeats, the breaking of the Legions, Successor Chapters, betrayals, redemptions, plots, plots within plots, the power of Faith, the detriments and benefits of groups like the Inquisition and Ecclesiarchy, the strength of character in Xenos races, and on and on and on. The Primarchs have quite a bit of reading to do.

Don’t worry Lemon Rush, you can still have your fun hunting down Xenos. Here’s a stack of books detailing all those filthy Xenos that are detrimental to the Imperium and galaxy at large! This lists where they are, what danger they pose, what their biology is, how best to kill them, and so on. Have fun!

Guilliman, here’s a stack for you regarding Xenos that are good guys that could use a hand. Vulcan, here’s a buncha worlds that could really use your more human touch. Horus, these worlds are major players so will be better won with your diplomacy. And so on.

So what is the Primarchs reaction? Do they accept the things he’s said? Do they bring this intelligence to the Emperor and Malcador? Do they take a hard look at themselves and decide to do better? Do they throw themselves at the feet of Chaos? Do they slow down the Crusade to better reinforce the reclaimed worlds? Do they help each other overcome their weaknesses and petty grievances so Chaos has less of a foothold on their souls? Do they exacerbate their flaws? Do they watch each other’s backs for Chaotic influence? Do they start training their Sons in Astartes vs Astartes combat? Astartes vs Chaos combat? Do they purge the corrupt members of their legions? Do they decide to eradicate the dangerous Xenos while uplifting the benevolent ones? Do they go hard in ways to better the Imperium? Do they become the mindless tools that E wanted them to be? Do they start to stand up to the Emperor and call him out on his shit when he needs it?

Jaune has no idea what they decided, or what any of their thoughts were. After he drops everything on them, gives them the books and AI, he walks out the door. His only thoughts were getting blackout drunk and working on the next step after the hangover. That particular conversation never left that room as far as he’s concerned or aware. He’s fully expecting any one of them to turn him into a red mist for his attitude, or a visit from the Banana Squad for a ‘chat’. He doesn’t even care what happens to him now.

He doesn’t even manage to find a bottle before he’s in trouble. He’s hit from the side, a mortal wound that kills slowly and painfully. However his attacker isn’t anyone from any branch of the Imperium. A deamon has been hunting him and his crew ever since he came back to the past. This is the thing that’s been orchestrating the deaths of his friends one by one. It’s very proud of its work and monologues like a cartoon villain. He just saved Jaune for last since he’s the leader. Something about helplessly watching as your friends are picked off as you can do nothing.

Taking this as confirmation that Jaune was doing the right thing he gets up for one last go. As noble as he is he can be a spiteful little shit, so he’s not going down without a fight. Jaune uses a single word of Enuncia to banish the demon, however his previous injuries and the power of the word kills him at the same time.

This is a good ending right? Did everything he could, gave those who hold the galaxy in their hands everything they need to keep things going right, gave a big middle finger to Chaos, the Emperor, and the demon, and died an unsung hero. Good place for retirement right?

However Jaune’s not done! The word quit doesn’t exist in his dictionary, especially when he knows that he was making a difference. Or was at least enough of a thorn in Chaos’ side to warrant a personal Demon after him. He reject’s his Goddess’ offer of a peaceful afterlife to go back for more. He’s a sucker for suffering sometimes. He crawls his way through the warp to be reborn in an Avatar type way. His DNA is identical, he holds the same kind soul and indomitable spirit, but he’s a fresh slate in everything else. The ‘current Jaune’ doesn’t know anything about the potential futures, his past lives, or any of that. The most that his original past self, the ‘original Jaune’, can do is subconsciously nudge him in what should be the right direction. Eventually the Demon, which I dub Little Timmy, comes back from the Warp to kill him again. To which Jaune’s original soul takes over in a sense, like how Ozma fights alongside his current host and body, and the two die in a draw yet again. Then he crawls back through the Warp to be reborn yet again, and so the cycle repeats.

Jaune does most everything during this series of cycles. Was an Astartes for each of the legions at least once even the Lost 2, guardsman, Commisar, Rouge trader, mechanicum, planetary lord, bounty hunter, Psyker, Blank, anything and everything as long as it wasn’t under E’s direct oversight like the Inquisition, Assassinorum, Custodes, and the like. Not to say he hasn’t tangoed with and against such organizations over the cycles.

Despite having the same face and dna, he’s missed completely by those in the know. Besides the fact his Goddess is blocking certain figures’ sight from recognizing him properly, think how just a piece of fabric over the eyes works for most heroes identities, he’s just one guy in trillions of trillions in that particular sector. They might have an idea of ‘that guy seems familiar’ in a déjà vu kind of way, but easily dismiss it. How common are blue eyed blonde dudes? The only confirmation that the Primarchs get that Jaune has been reborn again is during or after his fight with Little Timmy. Jaune leaves a message or calls them or whatever, and the original soul makes sure he calls them by one of the stupid nicknames from the chew out session. Who else would have the balls to call Ferrus Manus Tin Can Sam, or can tell the difference to know which TweedleTwin he’s talking to? Not like they can do much by the time/if they get the message, he died in the duel again. They’re lucky to find parts of his body from the fight. Little Timmy tends to desire a lot of collateral whenever possible, and Jaune isn’t always the roided up transhuman super soldier to trade blows so he has to get creative when he fights.

*As everyone else is stuck to their chairs, Jaune is standing on the table to look them in the eyes and move around easier. Also allows him to move close enough to the Primarchs to drop the reading material in front of them, but not close enough to be grabbed. It’s a funny image, but couldn’t find a spot where it would fit so here it is.

~

I have no idea where some of this should go, but I know that it should be a mess of things anyway because it’s 40K. As much as I don’t want any of the Primarchs taken by Chaos now that they have guidebooks on what to look out for and just how fucked that would be if they do, I can see a few of them falling anyway. Fulgrim for instance. I can see him taking the Laer Blade just to try and show Jaune that ‘Oh look, I guess you were wrong and I am strong enough to carry a demonic blade and not get corrupted!’ That’s the reason he talked down to you like a child, ya Purple Nurple! I love the idea of Snakegrim and Clonegrim duking it out, a duel of both loyalties and ideals. Although from what I hear from the various fangroups I’m in we probably won’t see that. Dangit GW. You’re missing a trunkful of easy money.

I’m not sure how the other Primarchs should be affected by Jaune’s meddling either. Angron was just an easy picking on how to change things up.

[relax-and-read-on]

I finished my session!!! To celebrate....

Primarch, and what they would have written in my literary creation class

(yes this is highly specific, no idc)

Lion: minimalist poetry done so that no one can say that he didn't do the assignment. There is 109 words spread on 8 pages. One of said page literally just say "I am Myself."

Mortarion: write a short story about a lil robot being basically condemn to die by an evil all powerful ai. Everyone miss the metaphor and start arguing about who the narrator is.

Roboute: Report a series of incidents of people seeing a black monolith ovni in the shape of Ohio, of all thing. Actually based of a real incident

Horus: Explain how many daddy issues he has. Pretty funny text, the 3 way in the middle of it was highly unnecessary.

Ferrus: the worst scifi short story of all time. Zero talent. One sentence goes on for 11 lines. Get called out for making a teluric planet the size of a gaseous one and walk out.

Fulgrim: poorly hidden self insert recounting his sexual exploit. Has the most graphic scene ever involving masturbation and a vacuum. Read it out loud to all.

Rogal: Describe a trip he took once. It's 8 pages long of beach descriptions. Seem to have a slightly weird obsession with crabs, and describe in great detail the battle between two.

Angron: write a scene where he basically explain how he day dream of a murder plot against an old colleague. Suspiciously well written, will avoid the police.

Sanguinius: a 3 part non-linear story about live, loss and death, beautifully written, that hint at a secret. Forgot to put the big reveal in the fucking final text.

Perturabo: write a story about childhood trauma and daddy issues. Violently infodump on everyone. Someone ask if the "I" instead of "he" in the middle of the text was voluntary. Refuse to answer. ,

Jaghatai: Write a long form prose poem that turn out to be the lyric to an instrumental only piece. Said piece is 6 minute long. He insist to play it in full for class.

Konrad: Write a self insert isekai fanfiction into Age of Sigmar. Surprisingly violent and sexual. Terribly written. Will probably become a succesful YA author.

Leman: Write an essay about his dog and how much he love him. It's actually quite touching. Even put cute pics of his dig at the end.

Alpharius Omegon: wrote a fake wikipedia page about a species of carnivorous lamppost walking around and eating people.

Corvus: Write a poem so completely confusing, there is a 20 minute debate on the subject. Ideas are: Death, sexual assault, prostitution, religious cults or drogues. The poem was actually about autumn and migratory birds.

Lorgar: write an in dept essay about the history of the first Rabbi in town. Somehow trackdown the surviving family member for an email interview. Completely bust the page count.

Vulkan: a very cute memory piece about being born in a large family and the hardship of it. Casually mention an unsolved murder. Everyone is disturbed.

Magnus: that 25 pages, 3 part essay/poem/experimental narrative text on the myth of the minotaur, feminism and the importance of myth. It was borderline unreadable.

[magistralucis]

Viridian [Trazyn/Orikan Fanfiction]

The stars are right, my lord.

———

A cryptek's sanctum is the closest thing to home, a sacred abode, their secret. Trazyn receives a little night invitation to Orikan's. A warm and indulgent glimpse into a lovers' tryst, as well as the homes they have to offer.

Trazyn/Orikan, Necrontyr AU. Orikan POV. Three-parter. Pre-biotransference headcanons. NSFW in future chapters.

[Part 1 published 01/05/2024 - AO3 link here.]

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕭𝖑𝖚𝖊 & 𝕽𝖊𝖉

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: This one was a roller coaster to come up with.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, @bispecsual, @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan.

TW // None.

“Thanks Joe, you’re the best.” I sighed, tippy toeing up to take the warm cup of coffee from the older man in his trailer. 

“Ahh, don’t worry about it!” He said, waving his hand at me. “It’s on the house yeah?”

I hummed, settling back down on my feet and carefully took a sip out of the disposable cup. Groaning when the warm liquid ran down my throat, warming up my body. The bitter sweetness sedating my morning hunger.

“You are still the best.” I huffed out, seeing my breath in the crisp, dawn air as I brought my lips back down to drink the liquid once more.

“Hey, slow down with that!” He waved at me. “Don’t want you to have a stomachache now. You’re one of the best here!”

“Awww, is Mr. Holder admitting something?” I teased him, taking another sip out of my coffee, but slower. Taking his words into consideration. I really wasn’t in a mood or position for a tummy ache.

“Aaah, I swear you guys are addicted to those things.” He huffed, preparing another order for someone else while he flipped some food in a pan as it sizzled.

“Geez, I hope not.” I said, looking down at my cup like it cursed me. My radio giving me some static. “But you do make the best coffee around.”

“Don’t flatter me, youngster.” He countered, putting ketchup on the order. “You know I make the best coffee.”

“That you do.” I agreed, raising up my cup for him. Taking yet another sip out of it and answering my radio. Getting details of an ‘old wild lady’ that's been refusing to get back into her home with her nurse.

“Well, I guess I'll see you around Joe.” I sighed, putting my hand in my jacket pocket to find the car keys. “Duty calls.”

“I’ll see you around, Sergeant!” He yelled out to me while I made my way towards the police car. Finally, getting the keys out of my pocket and unlocking the car with the keys and a beep.

Opening the driver door, I plopped right down in the seat with another sigh and placed my cup in the cup holder before closing my door and putting the key into the ignition. The vehicle starting up with a soft rumble.

Rubbing my hands together, I blew into them and shivered before turning up the heat in the car and moved the vents towards me. Geez, who decided this morning was going to be this cold?

Putting a hand on the wheel, I put the other hand to shift my gear into ‘reverse’ and looked backwards before pulling out smoothly. Turning my torso back around to look in front of me, I shifted my gear to ‘drive’ and slowly drove up to the stop sign to get out of the parking lot.

Flipping on my blinker, I looked both ways. Watching for a clear spot before driving off onto the mainroad and made my way to the old lady’s address. Picking up my cup and taking a sip out of it while I was at it. Warming up my body once more.

Stopping behind another police cruiser. I put the car in park and observed how this situation was playing out for a moment. Shifting and preparing my vest.

There was, in fact, an old lady dressed in a white floral shirt with a light brown crocheted denim-jacket and a beige crochet skirt with beige tights and black loafers on, waddling up and down the sidewalk. Cursing up a storm to a cop I never saw in the division. His hands coming up in surrender as the old lady stalks up to him, waving her wooden cane at him.

It honestly was an amusing sight to see. Well, until she started wacking him with it.

Stepping out of my car, I closed the door behind me and walked towards the very agitated granny. Shifting my vest more comfortably, resting my hands on the neckline of it.

“Whoa there Ms. Would you mind not hitting my fellow recruit here? It is a crime you know.” I stated, stopping just short of her, not wanting to get thwacked by her cane next.

The lady huffed, glaring at the young man and settled her cane back to the ground. Grumbling underneath her breath.

“You see, that man!” The lady started, lifting her cane back up and pointed it at a man on her house porch that was getting talked to by another officer. “He’s not supposed to be here!”

“I’m your nurse!” The man suddenly yelled back. “I come here every Monday, Wednesday and Friday!”

“Why isn’t he supposed to not be here ma’am?” I asked, shifting my weight as she turned her sights back onto me.

“My Marine doesn’t like him!” She said, wobbling a little in her shifting steps. “Been seeing things that were there, but now they're gone. Stolen!”

“And you believe he’s been stealing from your home?” I questioned, watching as another police cruiser pulled up to the sidewalk behind the lady.

“I know he’s been stealing from my home! Necklaces, bracelets, rings, all gone!” She grumbled, stomping her cane into the sidewalk. “That hoodlum has been stealing from me ever since he was hired!”

“I have not!” The man yelled back, throwing his hands up in the air. The officer over there giving him a verbal warning.

Sucking on my teeth, I watched the officer from the cruiser jogging up to the little group.

“Hey, I can take over for you two. Figured you needed some time to get your new boot situated.” Officer Duran said. Wait, new boot? Looking to the younger male to my left, I observed him more closely. It was no wonder I didn’t recognize him the first time.

He was a young male possibly in his early 20’s or 30’s. No taller than a teenager. Brown eyes and golden brown hair in the style of an undercut. Clean shaven too, but boot? Since when?

“Yeah, Sargent Zavala picked you as a candidate.” Duran informed me, turning her attention to the lady as I gave a ‘huh?’

Shouldn’t he have come to me beforehand and ask me about it? Did I accidentally agree to something I wasn’t aware of? No, Zavala wouldn’t do that, would he? Only one way to find out.

“…Come on then, boot.” I gestured to the recruit to follow me. “Let's get you properly set up.”

“Really? You don’t look too thrilled to have me as your recruit though.” He speaks, quickly following me to the cruiser.

“I’m not.” I huffed, pulling open the driver door by the handle.

Briskly entering the doors of the department. I headed straight for Zavala office. Nearly bumping into several people and Astartes alike.

“Sorry there big guy.” I grumbled, sliding past a blue ultramarine and into Zavalas’ office where he sat, looking through some files as gently as I could, closed the door behind me.

“Since when was I to be assigned a boot?” I immediately started, folding my arms. “I don't recall signing up for one.”

“That right, you didn’t.” Zavala confirmed one of many of my concerns, plopping the files he had in his hands on the desk.

“Then why did I get a recruit assigned to me?” I asked, leaning all my weight to one side. “I’m a Sergeant not a training officer.”

“I know that, but a recruit was assigned to you because I believe you can train him well.” Zavala spoke, leaning forward in his chair to place his arms on his desk. “There were also more recruits that came in and they need their training.”

I huffed, not liking that he was right as he made a rather good counter on that one. Can’t leave the recruits untrained. It doesn’t make the department or the people inside look good.

“And Xerxes is to accompany you on your patrols.” Zavala said, pointing past me.

“Who? What?” I questioned, turning to look out the window the Sergeant pointed at, spotting the Ultramarine that I swiveled to get into here. “A Space Marine? Why?”

“Considering your latest… lost. He’s to monitor your health.” He responded, picking up another pile of papers on his desk and tapping them on his desk. Stacking them nicely off to the side.

“You think, assigning a Space Marine and a recruit to me is to help me?” I scoffed, unfolding my arms. “To replace that?”

Did he think I couldn't take care of myself? That I wasn’t capable of this job?

“I am not asking you to replace what once was. I am asking you to train a recruit and watch your health.” Zavala sighed, standing up from his desk. “Don’t think I haven’t seen you pulling extra.”

“I fought in battles. What makes you think I can’t overcome this one too?” I asked a little too quickly for my liking. My eyebrows scrunching up at the many thoughts going through my head.

“This is not about fighting battles, Sergeant.” Zavalas’ tone dropped, his chestnut eyes sternly looking at me. “This is about your health and your job. Not a war, not a battle. Your job.”

I couldn’t say anything, knowing he was right. Yet it still hurt to think I must be babysat by a Space Marine. That I looked like I couldn’t take care of myself. Though, it was my problem.

“I just– .” He sighed, closing his eyes, coming over and placing his hand on my shoulder. “I don’t want our best to fall.”

Those words should have soothed me down, and they did slightly, for being the “best,” but I kept thinking that he could find somebody else to do it. Find someone else that was better. That he could do their own damn dirty work. That I know I wasn’t the best, but at the same time it was my whole career. It’s all I ever known and be best at.

I twisted my tongue and bit down on it, shutting myself up to avoid anymore of my stupid thoughts. I know I wasn’t in the best of health. How could you not? How could I not?

“Go and meet Xerxes and give your boot a chance, Sergeant.” Zavala said, patting me on the shoulder, telling me that I was dismissed despite us being the same rank as one another.

“I’ll be watching your progression.”

[nevesmose]

Somehow the idea of Curze whispering poison in his sister's ear repulsed Perturabo most of all.

[explaining-warhammer-to-my-gf]

Hey, we have a tumblr now! Hello everyone!

I'm Ava, and my partner's name is Kari. We're two lovebird nerds who adore sharing our hobbies together. Sometimes it's a little overwhelming to start learning about a hobby with so much lore and content within it, so we've decided it would be easier to help each other through it!

Join us as we work through the grimdark world of Warhammer 40k, the magical lands of Warhammer Fantasy, and much, much more!