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moodymisty · 23 hours

Note

Would you be comfortable writing some courting headcanons for the primarchs?? Thank you!!

Author's note: Here you go, they're sort of random but I hope you enjoy them.

Warnings: Fem!Reader for some like Lion’el because of words like Legion Mother, A few very slightly lewd remarks

Fulgrim:

The primarch who out of all has most devoted himself to things like the arts is nothing short of overwhelming, when he first expressed his desire for you. Flowers, paintings, clothing, food, whatever it is you enjoy, all of it gets gifted to you with no small amount of theatrics. Though thankfully, Fulgrim knows when to turn it down a bit, and you can enjoy his company. Even then however he is still very intense, kisses on the hand, the lips, and gentle caresses abound as he woos you with his silver tongue. His legion is also one of the few who at the start know about Fulgrim's intentions, and actually takes it decently well. Far better than other legions, when finding out their Primarch is indulging in romance. You are the socialite, the shining star in a room and the talk of everyone there, and Fulgrim will have it no other way. But as much as he does all this, he finds it cute if you’re shy or nervous about it. Shyness isn’t in his dna, so he finds it very adorable. You often get purfumed, hand written letters when he is away. Fulgrim has quite the way with words, and many of them you’re glad the one who reads them are him and you.

Perturabo:

He might be a petulant manchild at times, but when the mood strikes him Perturabo can be a bit softer. It helps that you're one of the few people he trusts, now that the two of you are so close. Though it may often be more trouble than it's worth, with how often his mood changes. Perturabo can go from lavishing you with Olympian clothes to sulking in his workshop for hours if not days, leaving you to eventually wander down there and find him, and bring him out of his petulant sulk. A gentle hand on his own, asking if he can explain to you what he’s working on tends to help. Perturabo also becomes very possessive of you, not long after he starts courting you. If Dorn, Sanguinius or Lorgar so much as look at you the wrong way, he's more than ready for a fight. He has one person in his life who hasn’t wronged him, who actually respects him, and he isn’t losing that. Those softer moments with him as he speaks of his plans for amphitheaters and bathhouses while you lay in his arms are worth it, however.

Lion’el Jonson:

Lion'el is, complicated. Part of him wonders how he even got here, something as frivolous as romance was never a significant part of his mind. But here he is. He can’t complain, as he’s become so used to you now that often times, his nose wrinkles anytime he’s away and casts sight on an empty bed. He doesn’t say anything about it, however. Part of him laments he isn't able to give you rides on horseback, as he's far outgrown the horses he rode in his younger years. Though he can walk beside you, even if his men think it's demeaning of his position. Is painfully blunt about some things, and extremely obtuse about others. He wishes to marry you? Blunt. You get a military parade dedicated to showing the galaxy the Dark Angels new Legion Mother with no warning. He wishes for you to wear the colors of his legion and match him so when you arrive on Terra everyone knows who you are with? Vague and obtuse, he will grunt about every option until you choose the one he likes.

Rogal Dorn:

As with all parts of his life, he's extremely stoic and at first, you don't think anything's changed. He's the type that listens to the things you talk about, and silently gives them to you. For instance as a newcomer to Inwit it's incredibly cold, but your current dress just doesn't cut it for the harsh wind and un-acclimated body. You find a new one on your bed three days later made perfect and exactly how you like it, but Dorn says nothing about it. Those few late night moments alone when he brings you into his office, and you sit at his desk while he works are some of his favorite. Dorn gets to feel you safe in his arms, and while he’ll never say it out loud, he is overwhelmed in his love for you. Does not tell any of his fellow primarchs about you. The day they realize Dorn has a beloved is a stressful one, they’re all sneaking around trying to get information about you, and Dorn almost has to lock you in his quarters and shoo them all away. Is surprising talkative in written word. His letters or anything else tend to be very long, talking about the ins and outs of his legion, and their current progress. You’ve never heard him talk half that much in person, it’s sweet. Though once in a while those letters can get a bit salacious; And Dorn is nothing if not detailed.

Leman Russ:

This man's declaration that he wanted to court you was as brash and blunt as he is. You're pretty sure he was half way into sleeping with how drunk he was at the time, a massive hand on your shoulder as he smiles with a red face. Granted when he sobered up he was far more, romantic about it. By his standards. He still stunk of mjød, but at least he held your hand. From that moment on however Russ isn't a man shy of showing off, and wastes no opportunity to plop you in his lap and give you a kiss, pick you up off the ground, or say something far too inappropriate for the current locale. Whether it's day two or day two hundred, he finds keeping himself off of you too much trouble. He’s the type to make others turn away with how overt his affection is. Every one of his kisses and hugs feel like he’s treating it as the last one he’ll ever do. Loves when you comb and braid his hair. It takes awhile and he has no patience for it, but he enjoys when you do it.

Ferrus Manus:

As a recurring theme with all of these, Ferrus finds it a bit hard to show how he feels. While he has moments where he cracks a smile, often times he’s largely stoic. As such, he never really asked you to be with him, it was something that simply progressed overtime. He doesn’t invite you into his quarters and his bed if you aren’t his beloved, he assumes it wouldn’t take a genius to figure that out. Late night workshop time is a must. Ferrus can spend days in there with no issue, and oftentimes you have to come and climb into his lap if you want any time with him at all. He doesn’t mind as as long as you’re quiet; Though over time he’s begun to enjoy explaining his plans to you if you aren’t asleep. If you are asleep, sometimes he gets a bit emotional and talks or thinks to himself. He never thought he’d have someone like you when he lived on Medusa, he just needed to survive. Is actually somewhat hesitant when you first are together. Ferrus is well aware of his size (both out and in the bedroom, or any other local where he deems sex a daring and intriguing idea), and often tries to be quite gentle. It took a bit of coaxing to finally treat you like you weren’t made of glass. You get surprise gifts from Fulgrim at times. Some are sweet; Some are… They’re hidden until Ferrus returns from where ever he’s currently away to at the time and you can surprise him.

Horus:

The same as Fulgrim; Excessive and grandiose, but unlike Fulgrim, there's a tad more subtlety to it. But only a tad. Horus still is eager to show off the love of his life (and so much more that he’s kept just in his head shh), but he’s aware that sometimes you require a bit more subtlety. For a primarch, he’s quite the romantic. Though there’s only so much you can do when you have thousands of gene-sons waiting on orders and don’t exactly get why their primarch is holding your tiny hand and helping you walk down the thunderhawk’s ramp. You can do it yourself, they think. He can also be quite a bit grandiose in the theoretical sense. Horus seems to have your entire future together planned, and he’ll speak it to you during very late nights with stars in his eyes. To marry you, to bring you into his legion as the mother of his gene-sons, to give you your own child one day. He’s more than a bit overwhelming, but it helps he’s so charismatic.

Angron:

I... I hope you're patient. Angron isn’t one that is fond of things like romance. For multiple reasons. One being that it brings him pain because of the Nails, and the other being that in many ways, he doesn’t feel like he deserves it. He’s a slave, he’s a monster, he’s a man who failed his people, men like him don’t get to have someone like you. But you stay anyways despite the fear of him loosing control of the Nails, and eventually Angron supposes that there’s more annoying people to have around. He’s far more applicable to this in his early days. The Nails haven’t degraded his mental state yet, and his legion is still fresh faced and eager to prove their worth. If Angron accepts you, they will as well then. The downside is that many of the primarchs worry about Angron’s relationship and subsequent attachment to you, and the danger it brings. Some for your safety, but mostly for the fact that now that Angron is so deeply attached, if something were to happen to you it would well be within the possibility that Angron would completely loose control of the Nails, and become an unstoppable threat that would have to be put down. On the other hand, it seems that you can calm him down a bit, as much as the Nails will allow, something that not many are able to do. A double edged sword, your love is to him. Often times you have to restrain him during anything, strenuous. It’s for your own safety, though it seems like Angron doesn’t hate it either.

Roboute Guilliman:

The most traditional out of them all. He follows the 'rules' so strictly you have wonder if he's following some sort of manuscript. Your relationship progresses at a very methodical pace, which is a bit odd but you find it oddly sweet he puts so much thought into it. He does little more than hold your hand, kisses and anything heavier are strictly private; If it wasn't for the longing, puppy dog look in his eyes, no one would guess you two were anything more. He's not overt about it like Horus or Fulgrim, but you are still absolutely smothered in gifts. From jewelry to clothing to weird purfumes he's been gifted by high lords attempting to earn his favor through you (Guilliman has made it very obvious that he's not the type to be swayed by gifts but they hope you are and will put in a good word with your beloved), you quickly find yourself constantly or the receiving end of some sort of lavish gift. Roboute is very much in love, it's just hard for him to admit it. As you come to understand his own little love language is the day he's a very happy man. On a bonus note: It is very easy to get this man to completely melt for you. If it’s been a stressful time for him and he’s stressed, giving him a bit of a hand will make him a bit bashful, but overwhelmingly thankful.

Sanguinus:

As kind as he is beautiful, Sanguinius is one of the more heartfelt ones around. Romance abound, the angel and you are the textbook example of star crossed lovers the moment he proposes courtship to you. It almost makes some of the primarchs jealous at how incredibly perfect your love for each other is, like your feet don’t touch the ground He loves to pick you up and give you a hug or a kiss, wrapping you in his wings. He always says it's just so you feel safer, but he also likes the bit of privacy, hiding you from the worlds in his arms. You also enjoy playing with his wings when you’re in private, as they’re quite sensitive. A side note; He thinks it's cute that you use his fallen feathers as bookmarks and quills, and he now gifts you a few of his fallen primary feathers every now and again for you to use. You’ll know about the Red Thirst eventually when you’re with him. Sanguinius won’t ever ask for assistance, but if you were to offer a bit of blood? He’s incredibly careful, but the blood of his lover is nothing short of ambrosia and he will dutifully treat you afterward for sating his appetite.

Jaghatai Khan:

As one of the more reasonable primarchs, Jaghatai is a steal to have as your lover. He’s personable and kind, and funny to boot. He enjoys making you laugh, something his sons have picked up on. Sometimes they’ll tease you (or more likely unsuspecting commissars) when you’re in their company. If he's not able to hold your hand, he'll have a hand on your shoulder or back, always close to you whenever you're both together. He’s extremely dedicated to Chogoris, and it’s incredibly important to him that you adopt some of the culture he grew up in. You don’t have to, but it would make Jagahatai an extremely proud man if you attempted to understand Chogoran. He’s also private; His fellow primarchs don’t even know of your existence let alone close relation to him until you’re well into your romance, and Jaghatai has thoughts for no one else but you.

Konrad Curze:

Konrad’s romance is as toxic as he is. But at the same time, it’s like a drug you can’t get enough of. Because you’re fucking terrified of him, but the man is obsessed with you. Not many of the other primarchs understand the soul crushing, teeth grinding obsession Konrad has for you. He’s willing to fall to his knees and submit to you as long as you tell him you love him, and that he's worth more alive. But if you tell him you don’t?… You don’t want to tell him you don’t. Konrad is painful. He holds your hand too tight, kisses you too rough, bites you too hard. He doesn’t mean it, you don’t think at least some of the time, but he’s so caught in this obsession with someone trying to save him that his martyr complex melts away for a bit and he’s this self-loathing, sad excuse of a man. You almost pity him as much as you love him. Making him happy has become an arduous journey for you. Is the exact opposite of the others in wanting to show you off. You’re hidden for ages, until the primarchs realize Konrad has someone at his side. They worry, but they know separating him from you would cause more harm than good, and you keep Konrad’s emotions a bit more in check. And in the eyes of a few individuals, your safety serves as a good threat to keep Konrad and his unhinged legion on a leash and working towards a desired goal. A note; Konrad is surprisingly selfless in regard to more intimate matters. And he likes to bite. Your thighs don’t get much reprieve from him.

Vulkan:

Sweet as sugar, no one is as good at a proper declaration of love or desire to romance like Vulkan is. No matter how much it breaks his back he’ll always hold your hand, give you a kiss, or pick you up to bring you with him across the Flamewrought or the Terran palace. Besides perhaps Sanguinius and Lorgar, no one is as star-crossed in love with you as Vulkan is.

He’ll do anything for you, if you just ask. He often paraphrases that he would shield you from any threat, but sometimes you fear he’d do it literally. Less seriously he loves to gift you various things, your favorite being a necklace. You never thought he’d be able to work at such a small level, but Vulkan is nothing if not skilled. He got quite the reward the evening he gifted it to you.

Is one of the quicker ones to get serious. Talks of marrying you, writing you down in the history of his legion as their Legion Mother, Vulkan is quite eager to tie himself to you, and you to him.

Corvus Corax:

Corvus is private, and also quite slow to trust. Even slower to admit he likes someone, let alone enough to express that he’s in love with them. Many moments with him are often spent in his private quarters or somewhere else alone, where only you have eyes on him.

Is one of the few primarchs conscious of the fact that he isn’t really meant to exist, and that he’s forcing it by being with you. Your body often bruises and aches if he isn’t careful with you, and it secretly pains him that the one person he loves is so easy for him to hurt. Finding out about this feeling he has swiftly turns you into a mess of reassurances that quickly overwhelm poor Corvus, and while he still feels it at times, he appreciate you trying to soothe him.

Loves to write you letters. He feels like it means more to put the effort into handwriting, and when you send him one back, it’s like he can feel your touch on the paper. One time you left a lipstick kiss on the parchment and the man was insufferable that evening from how pent up he was, unbeknownst to you millions of miles away. You paid for that transgression dearly one he returned.

Lorgar Aurelian:

Lorgar is yet another primarch who is sweet as sugar. He also has quite the way with words, though unlike Horus and Fulgrim, it isn’t intentional. He’s just very passionate and verbose. Is also very touchy. Loves to pick you up and kiss you, show you off to others. He’s so stupidly in love and everyone around him is almost annoyed by it. He just loves his tiny little goddess so much, you bring him light he didn’t know he needed. Lorgar is also very affected by his religious trauma. His self flagellation both emotional and literal has always been an issue. You’ve had nights where you’ve put ice on his back after he whipped himself bloody, crying over his wounds. If it isn’t bad he encourages you to not weep over him, and if it’s worse he often times is beating himself up over worrying you. Being with him is stressful emotionally, to say the least. In another path, he often time beats himself up over the idea of corrupting you with sinful thoughts. Though that doesn’t really stop him, especially if he comes to his quarters one evening seeing you wearing all white draped across his bed. Lorgar will sin alright, but he does it while speaking prayers to save his own soul as he worships you. He’s one of the quickest Primarchs to want to marry you, to make you his own and to bring you closer and closer to his side.

Mortarion:

Mortarion isn’t an easy one to love. He doesn’t really consider the emotion valuable until one day he suddenly realizes that you mean something to him, more than just another baseline human does. Like Ferrus in that he never does the official courtship nonsense, and just upgrades your relationship in his head overtime. Someone who isn’t his lover doesn’t spend hours in the Pale King’s study watching him work, keeping one of his hands in their lap while he uses the other. Is a bit of a pushover in some ways, and takes his self loathing a bit too far sometimes. You’ve learned that sometimes he needs you to kiss him and tell him you love him more than anything else, to get him to stop sulking. Everyone is extremely surprised he found sometime. Let alone someone so personable. Fulgrim jokes that Mortarion should just send you instead of himself to Terra when the primarchs meet up to discuss things, as you’re easier to deal with. Mortarion hates when things like that are said, and he’ll hide you from the world obsessively for awhile after. He loves you, but sometimes for him love and possess get intertwined in his head when he thinks for you.

Magnus the Red:

Isn’t the worst beloved to have, but he has his quirks. He can be a bit stuffy at times, and often times forgets that relationships needs nurturing to grow. Magnus often times gets stuck in his own head and forgets everyone around him, including you. Loves to show off his warp magic to you, especially if you show literally any interest at all. He’s so used to everyone fearing it, fearing him, hating psykers no matter what, that any interest by you gives him hearts in his eyes. You’ll be up all night listening to him read you tomes. Which you don’t mind, it often helps you fall asleep. Since Magnus can change his size, he knows exactly how to make your squirm. You know you’re in for a wild ride when your beloved becomes bigger than Ferrus and starts taking off his armor.

AlphariusOmegon:

The twins are complicated. Given the primarchs consider you only Alpharius’ beloved, you spend more time with him than Omegon. As such, sometimes Omegon can get a bit possessive whenever you two are together. You don’t entirely blame Omegon for it; His other half is the one holding your hand and showing you off, joking about marrying you to his fellow primarchs. As such, those topics tend to be a minefield in your weird little relationship. They often use you to get information about the other Primarchs. It seems your smaller stature makes them almost seem like you're less of a threat, and get a bit more talkative around you than they are around whatever twin is currently frontfacing. You hate when they ask this of you, but you have no power to refuse them. As the twins are extremely meticulous and through, they've been careful to not show anyone how in love with you they really are. If they how just how much Alpharius loves you, it would be easy for you to be used against them. So affection is limited, and they put up an aura that you're not much more than an arm piece when in view of others. They eagerly make sure to show you this isn't the case in private, however.

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ms--lobotomy · 1 month

Text

Are y'all down for some heresy?

NSFW under the cut. Don't say I didn't warn you.

LION EL'JONSON - "Stay quiet," he grumbled. He pushed you against the wall and kicked your legs apart before tearing off what garments you were wearing. You wanted to open your mouth, but a large hand pressed against it, almost obfuscating your entire face. He unzipped his leather trousers with the other hand, only pulling them down far enough to reveal himself to you. He didn’t prepare himself before he went in, and it hurt. His hands moves towards your wrists, and he held you up against the cold wall as he went in deeper, and deeper. You relaxed into his grip and kept your lips sealed until you couldn’t, and the moan that escaped you was nothing short of content.

??? - SEX!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

FULGRIM - Intricate knots kept you suspended in the air as he ran his hand along your collarbone. You wanted to cry out, to beg him, to scream that he should get on with it. But there was a gag in your mouth, impeding your speech. His hand ran lower, down to your breast. He hovered slightly above it, a smirk dusting his face before he squeezed your nipple and you let out a little whimper. His hands trailed lower and lower before he reached between your legs, sticking a finger in. You couldn’t make any comprehensible sounds with that gag in your mouth, but he still knew that you were finally enjoying yourself.

PERTURABO - You were situated atop him, with his hands on your waist. You needed a little bit of help moving up and down. He was difficult to straddle as he was twice your size, but you made it work. He moved you up and down on him, stretching you out. Between the little noises that you made, you managed to eek out a few words. "Oh, you're doing wonderfully." He froze, holding you down on him. Maybe it was the almost pleading expression on your face that did it, or the words themselves. Either way, you saw his expression soften for just a moment before you felt him slam you onto himself, hard.

JAGHATAI KHAN - You hadn’t had the idea to stop until your clothes were cast to the side of the bike and you were sitting on his lap, facing him. You looked up at him as he brought you down upon him. You let out a quiet whimper and felt your face go warm. “Let it out,” he told you softly. It took you a few seconds to do so as he raised you up and down on him. Your hands trailed to his chest as he started to go faster. And faster. You were practically howling by the time he was done with you, finishing inside of you. You felt something wet and sticky dribble down your leg. "Let's get you cleaned up," he said, picking you up and putting you back down before he went to grab something to clean you off.

LEMAN RUSS - Your face went warm when you saw his sons staring at you, leering at you. You still pulled your shirt over your head, and you didn’t say anything as he grabbed you by the shoulders and pinned you down, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. One hand roamed down your body, the other pushed your legs apart. You looked to the side, towards his sons. They were talking amongst themselves, and more importantly, staring at you. As Leman put a finger between your legs, you let out a delicate moan. You knew it was going to be a long night.

ROGAL DORN - He had you right where he wanted you, tied down to his bed with a toy between your legs. He watched as you squirmed and writhed as you had been doing for the past couple of hours, unable to turn the device off. You moaned, looking up at him. He was looking at you as warmly as a man like him could, his expression soft and loving. He made his way over to you, kneeling over you. He put a large hand to your cheek, and you leaned into it as you climaxed yet again, loud and hard. He chuckled. "You're beautiful when you climax."

KONRAD CURZE - His fingers dug into your legs, breaking your delicate skin. He was coarse and rough and he threatened to snap your body in half. Blood lightly glazed his fingers as he slammed himself into you, with no care to how you may be feeling. A ravenous grin graced his face. Tears began to well up in your eyes as you gently called out his name. His grip moved up to your arms, just above your hands, and it once again drew blood. You looked up at him, barely able to keep your eyes open. "Please," you begged, as he started to go faster inside of you. He grunted something in his native Nostraman as he finished inside you, burying his face in your neck.

SANGUINIUS - You tried running and you tried hiding, but when the Brightest One wanted you, he wanted you. He’d excused himself from his previous calling and roamed the ship looking for you until he had you exactly where he wanted you. He’d pinned you to the wall, ripping off your clothes with a wild desire in his eyes before he sank his teeth into your neck. You winced as he siphoned blood from you, and you gently clutched the back of his head. You ran your fingers through his hair as he planted kisses lower and lower on you, using his teeth. You knew it was going to leave a mark, but you didn’t struggle against him as he made his way between your legs.

FERRUS MANUS - He pinned you to the wall as if you were an object with one hand and planted his other right on your throat. His metallic hands were cold and slippery against your skin. He tapped his fingers against your neck, teasing you, before he grasped your neck and air became nothing less than a privilege to you. You gasped for air, but nothing came through your windpipes. “Winded?” he asked, blood rushing to your face. Your hands instinctively grappled for his, but you didn’t want to choke out your safe word. Not yet. Before you lost consciousness, though, he let go of you. You collapsed to the floor and gasped for air, clutching your chest. He grabbed your jaw and tilted your head up to look at him. “You’re cute when you’re winded.”

??? - I think they need to check my apartment for a gas leak.

ANGRON - Here he is, the Red Angel, restrained before you. You felt his face. It was warm. "You're going to be okay," you cooed, planting a kiss on his scarred lips. You took out some lube, and rubbed it on him. He throbbed in your hands. You saw his face scrunched up in pleasure before he let out a moan, low and guttural. You paused to plant another kiss on his lips before you went back to him. He writhed in the intricate ropework you had done on him, but nothing broke. "You're doing so well," you said. He grunted in response. Before long, you'd finished him, and the noise that he let out was nothing less than beautiful.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN - Before you even had time to think about it, he’d cast his paperwork aside, stripped your clothes off and spread you out over his desk like a delicacy. He slid a finger over the area between your legs, and you could see a slightly devious smile cross his face before he stuck it in. You let out a yelp and clung to the sides of his desk before he put his other finger to your lips. “Ssh,” he said. “We wouldn’t want anyone to hear us, right?” he asked, pushing his finger all the way up. Your face scrunched up as he went up and down inside you. A few times you got close to revealing your whereabouts, but you managed to reel it in.

MORTARION - Not many people got to see the Pale King’s lab, but you were one of the lucky few. You rubbed up against him, time and time again. You did this until he pushed his materials aside, set you on the counter, and pulled your clothes off. He pulled his mask down and put his mouth on yours, sliding himself in. He trailed kisses down you, stopping briefly at your nipple, before he spread your legs open. "You did this to yourself," he murmured, before he put his tongue between your legs and you let out a loud moan. You knew that you were going to be here for a long time.

MAGNUS THE RED - Here you were, bound via warp magic (for lack of a better term), Magnus in front of you. You shivered, bare as you ever were, and he grabbed your hands before he kissed you, rubbing himself on you. He was only slightly larger than the average human now, able to comfortably fit inside of you once the time would come. You let out a little moan, and he chuckled at you. "Sensitive?" he asked, before sliding into you. Your fingers interlocked with his, and you threw your head back in pleasure. He chuckled. "Look at me," he said, grabbing your chin and tilting it down to look at him.

HORUS - You cried out, in pleasure and in pain. He'd pried your legs open as if it were nothing and forced himself in, not even bothering to prepare you for the experience. And here he was now, looming over you, smile cocky as ever. You swear the two of you were going at it for hours, his breath hot on your neck and his hands effortlessly pinning you to the bed, until he suddenly slowed down. He shoved himself in you once, then twice, then three times. You looked up at him with wide eyes. You opened your mouth to speak, but he spoke first. “You’re going to make a great mother.”

LORGAR - He wanted to fuck his problems away, release all of his frustrations onto you, but he simply couldn’t. You were already whimpering underneath him, tears gathering in your eyes, and he was being as gentle as he could be. His hand grazed the side of your face, and you leaned into it. A tear fell from your eye. “You’re taking it so well, my love,” he cooed, wiping your tear away. “If only you could see how gorgeous you look.” Your face went warm, and you turned your gaze to the side. With one hand, he turned your head back towards him. “Look at me,” he said. “Let me watch you come undone.”

VULKAN - You looked up at him, your face scrunched up as he struggled to fit it in. Your hands were intertwined, his massive hands engulfing yours. You whimpered and moaned as he slowly slid in, pressing hard against your walls. He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear. “Good girl,” he said. “Just a little more, okay?” You gulped, and you nodded as he pressed into you. He pressed a kiss to your neck as he pulled himself out. It was much easier for him to put himself in you this second time, stretched out on him. You looked down at him, wrapping your arms around his neck.

CORVUS CORAX - He sat next to you, staying close by your side. Your skirt was shorter than usual this meeting, and you had “neglected” to put on underwear. As he talked, he slid a finger between your legs, and started to make a motion as if he were beckoning someone over. You tried not to make a face as you looked at everyone else at the meeting. Nobody was looking at you particularly funnily. As he stopped speaking, he slid another finger in. You looked up at him, and there was a slightly bemused smile on his face. Your face went warm as he stuck another finger in.

ALPHARIUS - There were lookalikes all over you, touching you, inside you. You could barely handle the one in your mouth, but there was one in each hand, one in your chest and one between your legs, buried to the hilt. And when he had spilled himself inside you, leaving that mark that you belonged to the Alpha Legion, another took his place. Your hands began to tire, though, and your eyes began to droop. You looked up, as much as you could. The one in your mouth took himself out, and cupped your face. "Tired yet?"

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mydazepirate · 1 year

Text

Was seeing this meme then got this brilliant idea

What if we got reincarnated as a chaos undivided daemon and now we have become:

The local therapist

Like one day we where in one of Abby warbands talking with a nurgle astartes and he started to vent and we ended up giving him some life advice,next thing you know is a daemonette seeking advice for her love life and a berserker telling us about his anger management issues.

Then Something lead to another and know we have our time spent between the primarchs:

Hearing pertorabo bitching about life in general but we are too afraid to speak up and tell him to stop

Having tea time with Magnus because he genuinely appreciate our presence and time together

Somehow running into leman Russ when we were done taking care of nurgle garden with mortarion and killing us the moment he see us

Us getting revived shortly after because the four think thet we are too entertaining to lose

Getting into a yelling contest with angron that always end up with angron getting too angry and furious to continue

And finally talking about religion with lorgar and helping him battling his night terrors *also known as corvus corax*

Fulgrim is too high and mighty to seek us for anything other than to fuck us and us getting along with the snake man because we might as well have a good time

Us running into leman a second time and his curiosity getting the best of him so he started to question us

Maybe I will expand this idea further in future posts, but until then stay safe.

#primarchs x reader #chaos undivided #fulgrim x reader #lorgar x reader #angron x reader #mortarion x reader #perturabo x reader #magnus x reader #leman x reader #i need to sleep #but im here #corvus corax #primarch x reader

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whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon · 1 year

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hello god it's me again could you please give me some Angron sexcapade

sexcapade story

He was so angry and high on adrenaline that he nutted once and it shocked him back to reality. Somewhat.

how do they flirt?

By asserting his dominance. He screams. Unintelligibly. Scream back and maybe that'll shut Angron up. Maybe.

what turns them on?

You not being a fucking coward.

what kind of kisser are they?

Who, ANGRON? Aren't his lips practically gone?

any other random nsfw headcanon that comes to mind

He has sensitive titty meat, okay?

#angron #warhammer 40k #wh40crack.#nsfw.#crackcanon.#angron x reader

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thevoidscreams · 2 months

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For Mating March: what would you think each Primarch specific kink would be?

Gonna stick to one or two kinks each for this also I'm going based on vibes:

Lion: He will often take you where ever you are at the time, even if it's a risky place to do it.He doesn't get off on the idea of potentially being caught. He gets off on getting away with it. Fulgrim: He enjoys painting you and making an absolute mess out of the paint he put on you, by fucking you and then making a print by pressing you to a canvas. He has a collection of these.

Perturabo: He enjoys bondage but with really complicated devices. He also gets off on being praised and feeling valued, during the deed. Jaghatai Khan: What's to do you on his bike while riding. Also he doesn't pull out. You're getting the cream pie.

Leman Russ: Predator/Prey dynamics, he's giving you a ten minute head start to book it into the woods. Better make those ten minutes count cause when he catches you, you're gonna want to be far enough away that no one can hear what he's doing to you. (Unless you're into that)

Rogal Dorn: No guy who makes a full body pain glove is normal okay. He wants you to do your best to make him come while he tries to hold off as long as possible. Also maybe a bit of pain play. Konrad Curze: Blood play, knife play, also predator/prey dynamics but it'd gonna be a lot more dangerous for you when he finds you. He will however give you aftercare if he's in the right mindset.

Sanguinius: Body worship, it goes both ways, also praising. He may get a bit bitey sometimes also. Ferrus Manus: Pretty standard rough sex, a bit of breeding, sensory play involving temperature. Angron: You gotta restrain him, it's not even a kink at this point it's for your safety.

Roboute Guilliman: Breeding, also if you bring him things while he's working to give him little breaks and lots of love that gets him going. He just needs your love and support. That's the biggest turn on for him.

Mortarion: I feel like he enjoys a challenge, and if you tease him throughout the day he's not gonna show it but he's gonna be rock hard till he gets you in bed later. And then you'll get to see his famed endurance first hand.

Magnus: He enjoys having his ego stroked, and when you show off a bit of book smarts. Also rub him down with some body oil. Horus: He is a power top who gets off on being called Warmaster or Master in bed. He's also not opposed to taming you and making you submit to him.

Lorgar: You are his kink. If he's pursuing you then it doesn't matter what else is going on in bed. As long as it involves you. And maybe some genuine sentiments of love.

Vulkan: MATING in all caps. He's also gonna pound you on his anvil the same way he does a new weapon.

Corvus corax: He wants to find you, hide and seek style. Another one where you'd better hope you hid in a place far enough from other people. Also risky business in public, like making you sit on his knee while he rubs you off under the table.

Alpharius: He and Omegon like to share you. Both at the same time. Sex is never a private affair for those two.

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roroco316 · 6 months

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film AU.Maybe OOC but I tried my best. Really want to see a normal Angron without nails.

#primarch #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k #angron

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wxnheart · 9 months

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Which Primarch has the best hair to pull while riding their face being intimate?

It'd be easy to say Sanguinius, Magnus, and Fulgrim but one is actually tender-headed, and the other two... it's a hit or miss. Depending. 👀

Surprisingly? Roboute and Dorn because they're closet freak heauxs and love it when you tug at their cropped tresses. Because the pain is a wonderful opportunity to vent their frustrations and their tongues are working, honey.

Horus when he had hair. Now he'd just tease the shit out of you and lift you up mid-lick because he's an ass like that.

Leman most definitely. He chuckles against your skin. Lion, I think, wouldn't even be fazed so he's feasting away like the fuckin' beast he is. By the Emperor...

Avoid at all costs: Angron, Konrad, Perturabo, and Corvus. Especially Angron. And Perturabo.

You won't even come close to the Khan's.

If Lorgar and Vulkan had hair, whew.

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heabitfruity · 4 months

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Sexuality Headcanons: Primarch + Emperor Edition

Lion - On the Asexual spectrum, but not sex repulsed. He is willing to do it for someone he loves; prefers to be in control.

Fulgrim - Pansexual, prefers women to anyone else, wants someone he considers perfect because he’s fucking vain. (definitely the bitch to say “all women are queens” but then go "not you, darling")

Perturabo - Honestly, he is aceflux. He frequently has spouts of "ew, sex."

Khan - Straight. Simple as that.

Leman - Bisexual, prefers AFAB people because of tits. Man is a breast fan, but if he sees an AMAB person with some nice pecs he will definitely enjoy them as well. (Definitely does the honk-honk thing with consent, makes him giggle)

Dorn - Aroace, fully romantically and sexually repulsed.

Konrad - Asexual; he does feel romantic feelings but he has no idea what to do with them

Sanguinius - Bisexual with strangely high standards, also wants to romantically spoil someone.

Ferrus - Straight, but has definitely questioned his sexuality before, and is now comfortable.

Angron - TBD, he hates himself too much.

Guilliman - Straight, in a DILF way.

Mortarion - Aroace, in a normal aroace way.

Magnus - The type of man to say Sapiosexual and Morosexual. He doesn’t care about gender, he just enjoys if they can fight back in a debate or if they’re a him/bim/theybo.

Horus - Pansexual, doesn’t care; he simply wants someone to snuggle with. He also has a lot of charisma so he definitely is probably polyamorous.

Lorgar - Straight. (he gets no bitches)

Vulkan - Bisexual, in a wholesome way.

Corvus - Aromantic and Demisexual, sex is kind of weird with him. He doesn’t trust it.

Alpharius/Omegon - Nobody knows.

The Emperor - Pansexual, doesn’t have time to give a rat’s ass about gender when he fucks.

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dead-philosophy · 1 year

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Keep seeing these posts going around about something something Angron x short reader with an attitude and I'm like

why is this literally just Areshkar?

They've been pretty accurate to what he's like… except the being besties with Lotara part, she thinks he's weird.

To be fair, he is.

#dead talks #areshkar #angron #warhammer 40k #horus heresy #I need a ship name for them so I can make a tag for this stuff

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2lim3rz · 3 years

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Horus x reader sounds so fluffy but also so angsty

No Primarch X reader I have will not go without angst

Except for maybe Angron and Curze, give these two bitches a break PLEASE

Also @ Lorgar anon, I did forget about that request, sorry!! I’m gonna work on it asap!

#2lim3rz chats to anonymous #reader insert requests

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moodymisty · 5 months

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How do you think various legions would react to a primarch's lover? Especially if they're mostly a regular mortal. We got a hint of it with your Guilliman piece, so I'm biased and wonder what other headcanons you have for how the Ultramarines reacting to Guilliman's lover. Any ideas you have for Angron, Perturabo, and Dorn would be great to read too! 💙❤️💛

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

[ Part 2, Part 3 ]

Author's Note: So, I might've gotten carried away. I decided to just do the ones you mentioned, but I have drafts for the other legions so if anyone is interested in seeing those as well, feel free to say. I hope this is what you were looking for, and that you enjoy :3

Relationships: Implied Perturabo/Gn!Reader, Angron/Gn!Reader, Roboute Guilliman/Fem!Reader (because of the term 'lady'), Rogal Dorn/Fem!Reader (because of the term 'lady')

Warnings: None really apart from the toxicity that's expected of romancing a Primarch, Typical 40kness

➧ Iron Warriors:

Absolutely not lmao. Haul ass if you see these guys look at you funny.

The legion of brutal industrialism isn't going to tolerate their Primarch thinking of anything beyond the scope of their ambitions for war. Part of you swears it's something that's just hard wired into them.

So while you might love Perturabo, his legion does not love you. Asking for respect would be a joke. Perturabo might be able to beat them into not saying anything, but they have to hold their tongues quite hard between their teeth.

Needless to say, your first introduction hadn't gone well. It's not a scene you want to remember.

It's all sort of a cruel irony; Given Perturabo has always had desires beyond being just a war machine, but his legion treats his foray into love with the same horrible attitude that Perturabo has come to viciously hate about them.

It all makes you feel like you're wedged between two massive walls. Perturabo is borderline obsessive over you, but his Legion treats you as if you're a plague upon their Primarch. Neither is willing to budge on the matter. The walls keep squeezing closer and closer together, and you're trapped right in the middle. You sometimes wonder who is going to snap first.

Most of them just actively ignore you, which you won't complain about. You give most of them- apart from a few of the more amicable Iron Warriors- quite a wide berth. The less time around them the better.

Just let Perty be happy, man.

➧ Imperial Fists:

The way Dorn's legion treats you- you would call it suffocatingly overprotective, but Dorn and his legion call it otherwise. This legion takes everything stupidly seriously. If you leave, you are expected to leave with a retinue of guards, and return by a set time. You will be dragged back if you don't. Your location is known at all times, and while it's reassuring at times to feel safe, at time it feels, stifling.

Though, you knew what you were getting into; So you suppose you can't really complain. You can appreciate that they seem to not think too poorly of you, considering your stature. Being a baseline human amongst Astartes and Primarchs isn't easy, but at least they act somewhat blasé about it. Though it might just be their general dispositions.

They speak to you with the level of formality Dorn orders of them, no more no less. Some of them are a bit confused why The Praetorian even indulges in something like romance, but they don't ask questions. As long as it doesn't interfere with Dorn's ability to do his duty. Any doubts are kept firmly to themselves unless they feel it needs to be brought to attention.

They still treat the Lady of the Imperial Fists with decorum, and some, dare say, even enjoy your company. Communicating with them is certainly interesting however given their stalwart nature. Getting one to crack their neutral expression at a joke is a popular pasttime of yours.

You don't mind it all... Too much. To be respected and protected by them, to even have some you would consider friends- or some odd blending of the term, given some of them have begun referring to you as mother- is something that makes you happy and so unbelievably lucky in this galaxy.

So while it's rigid, it at least makes sense. Dorn makes it up to you by building you your own library room. Don't ask why there isn't any windows.

➧ World Eaters:

Babe, your Primarch has a legion named the 'World Eaters', what do you think is gonna happen?

But to be serious, it probably isn't the worst Legion to be pulled into- but not by much. The World Eater Astartes are desperate to gain the eye and approval of their genesire, so if scorning you squanders that, then they will accept your existence and bite their tongues. Somewhat.

Khârn specifically doesn't enjoy that his Primarch is distracted by such pursuits.

However he's not going to say he isn't somewhat impressed that you are able to stand ground against Angron as he towers near double your height. You would be nothing but a bug beneath his boot if Angron lost control of the nails for even a moment, but Khârn won't scoff at your ability to hold your expression and not completely crumble whenever he turns your way. You seem to understand the Nucerian Primarch well. Not many within his legion can even claim that honor.

Beyond that however, he wants little more to do with Angron's temporary pursuit, same as his battle brothers. Overtime perhaps he might warm a tad, but don't expect it.

You don't spend much time around them at all. You make them angry for shifting the priorities of their Primarch to things as frivolous as love and lust, and they make you sad as you watch them slowly destroy themselves for little more than bloodlust.

A tragedy, Angron and his legion is. You try not to think about it all too much.

➧ Ultramarines:

The Ultramarines have a distinct attitude for you, as Guilliman choosing a beloved wasn't a decision that was taken lightly. It takes time, and while they respect you at first, overtime they'll grow to trust you and even grow fond of you. Titles like Lady of the Ultramarines and Lady Guilliman weight heavy on you, but at least your shock wears off over time. They are still hilariously formal even if they call you titles like 'Legion Mother', and encouragement for them to not act so stiff falls on deaf ears.

They do have their moments where they stop being such terrible sticks in the mud and joke around, and you've noticed they get weirdly prideful if they're the one to make you laugh.

You remember once when Guilliman had left you with one of his lieutenants, you were watching some men getting used to their new Terminator armor. The lieutenant had muttered in disappointment under his breath that one man looked like he had a metal support beam firmly lodged from ass to helm, and you'd snorted into a full laugh. When Guilliman returned, he asked what you'd said when he was gone; Remarking that the lieutenant looked as if he was about to lead a military parade with how puffed he seemed.

There's no time now where there isn't a set of transhuman eyes on you, and part of you wonders the things Guilliman has seen that makes him so willing to splurge such valuable resources.

That's not to say the Ultramarines don't have their doubts about their Primarch's relationship however, at least in a logistical sense. It's mostly thoughts kept to themselves, or spoken by a Captain or Commander to Guilliman in private.

It's not as if they're angry their Primarch is happy, but a normal un-augmented human, one that under the lens of a massive crusade- you are effectively nothing more than a defenseless tool to be used against their Primarch. This behavior and thought process gets dialed up and stays for longer if you're dealing with 41st Millennium Ultramarines, given their zealotry towards their gene-sire's supposed divinity.

The Ultramarines are by far one of the better Legions to 'marry' into so to speak. They are organized, respectful, and many even slowly come to treat you as a sort of respected figure. Many will defend you with everything they have without hesitation. They have their doubts, but you'll admit they are reasonable doubts for them to have.

#warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #perturabo x reader #guilliman x reader #rogal dorn x reader #angron x reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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ms--lobotomy · 4 months

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Hello! You've asked for promts, I will give you some

What about something general? Like confessing, reaction to hugs, first kiss?

You can write one of these. I really prefer if it will be for every primarch,but if you can't it's ok.

Sorry for my english, it's not my native language. Good luck!

hi anon! your english is wonderful, even as a native speaker i struggle sometimes haha. i'll do your first kiss with each primarch! i hope you like it :D

LION EL'JONSON- You had to initiate this one. Not because he wasn't interested, but because he genuinely could not tell how interested you were. "Lean down, please." His breath was hot on your face, and his expression was scrunched into one of confusion. You were finally close, you couldn't afford to mess it up now. You wrapped your arms around his neck and met his lips with yours. It took a few seconds for him to reciprocate, but when he did, he pressed you against the ground and began to take control.

???- You kissed them so well they faded out of existence. Oops. Or rather, good job?

FULGRIM- You were in bed together, laying on the finest silks the Imperium could produce. You were idly chatting about something unimportant, and there was a lull in the conversation. His features weren't exactly hardened to begin with, but you could see his expression soften as he took your face in his hands. He just looked at you for a second, before pulling you in for a slow kiss. You could feel him slip into your mouth, only slightly, as you melted in his hands.

PERTURABO- He crankily tinkered with a small machine. You had no idea a man so large could operate tools so small, but he kept surprising you as long as you knew him. "Surely you deserve a break, my lord," you said. "If only so you don't get burnt out." In a moment of tolerance, he picked you up and set you upon his lap, straddling him. His expression didn't change. But he wordlessly leaned down and pulled your face up, and you were locked in a kiss in a short moment of peace.

JAGHATAI KHAN- Remote locations. Grassy planets. Motorbikes. You'd become quite accustomed to these since you began your relationship with the Fifth. You'd stopped to make camp for the night and watched the stars come out, one by one. He put his arm around you, staring up alongside you. You sat there in silence for a while, before you felt him tilt your chin towards him. And before you knew it, his lips were on yours.

LEMAN RUSS- You were arguing. It was over something dumb, something like whether a straw has one or two holes. To make matters worse, it was in front of so. Many. Of his sons. Who were throwing their opinions in left and right. Right after you made your point, he grabbed your shirt with one hand and lifted you close to him with the other. The kiss was immediate, his lips were rough on yours.

ROGAL DORN- He was working on schematics for... something, and you were idly sitting in his lap, watching as he calculated incomprehensible numbers with nothing but pen and paper. He sighed, and scribbled some of them out before turning you around to face him. He buried his head in the crook of your neck and the two of you sat like that for a second before he worked kisses up from your neck to your lips.

KONRAD CURZE- He's so emotionally stunted, he went in for it at the worst. Possible. Time. After he had erected an effigy at the foot of your bed made of... skin and bones, maybe. Tactfully, you asked him if it could reside somewhere else. And then he knelt down, folded you in his arms and went in for the kiss. It was rough and unpracticed, but at least (?) it was genuine.

SANGUINIUS- He was in flight, with you under his arm. You were high enough that you could fall to your death if he dropped you, but his grip was firm. His wings were spread out and his feathers fluttered in the air. You tilted your head up to get a glimpse of your beloved, and you could feel the two of you diving down as he gave you a short but sweet kiss on the lips. You grabbed onto him as the ground approached quicker than what was comfortable, but he steadied himself and you stayed in the air.

FERRUS MANUS- He was busy at work on his next weapon. It was still comparable to a metal rod. He was concentrating, and you wanted to rile him up. So you asked him silly questions. "When would it be ready?" "Why did it look so... rodlike?" He sighed and put down his equipment and the red-hot weapon, at a stopping spot. He said nothing, yet stared at you with annoyance and something else you couldn't quite put your finger on. The kiss came as a surprise, and it was quick, and he got back to work after.

???- Never kissed anyone in their life, and never will.

ANGRON- Oh? You thought CURZE was emotionally stunted? Lol. LMAO. He was recounting his days in the arena to you as you held his hand. If words weren't enough to tell you how angry he really was, his eyes gave it away. You put a hand on his shoulder, something you had to contort yourself to do. He sighed and picked you up after finishing his sentence, gruffly mashing his face into yours. It wasn't much of a kiss, but you would learn together.

ROBOUTE GUILLIMAN- He called you into his office, with papers messily laying around his desk. You watched him pace around the room for a few seconds, his face a scarlet red, before he wordlessly grabbed your arm, cleared a space on his desk, and sat you upon it. You could see him tower over you, feel him tilt your chin up, and you knew that he was deliberating what to do for the final time before his lips slammed into yours.

MORTARION- It started with a hug. One that you had initiated, one that he had hardly expected. You could only wrap your arms around his waist at the highest. You looked up at him. You saw the beginnings of a glare on his face before his expression softened. He knelt down to your level and sighed, contemplating... something. He closed his eyes, his face coming ever so slightly closer to yours. You decided to seal the deal.

MAGNUS THE RED- It was on a private library date. You were looking at him, wondering if you should go in for it, while he was reading an unrelated book. He kept looking back up at you, though. Smirking at you. Toying with you. Your gazes met, and his smirk became a full on grin before he stood up suddenly. He scooped you up in his arms, brushing his lips across yours before he finally went in for it.

HORUS LUPERCAL- You were idly looking out into the stars, lost in thought. Before too much time had passed, though, you felt a heavy hand on your shoulder. You looked up to see Horus, who knelt down to your level. You thought that he was busy, but he must not have been. He lingered there for a moment, taking you in before an "I love you" escaped his lips. He grabbed your waist and pulled you in, pushing a slow kiss onto your lips.

LORGAR AURELIAN- The Urizen spoke of powers above him with religious fervor. Even in the privacy of your quarters, the words bled from him incessantly. The problem was, you were in bed with him and you were trying to sleep. He held you in front of him, and you turned to face him mid-sentence. And before that sentence ended, your lips were on his. He was stunned for a few seconds, but he returned the kiss.

VULKAN- The stove was a little high for you, but you'd decided to cook a nice meal for your lover regardless. You wanted to keep it a surprise, but his large figure appeared in the doorway before you could finish. You gasped, trying in vain to hide the act from him, but he laughed and knelt to your level anyways. His breath was warm on your face, and his kiss was even warmer.

CORVUS CORAX- You'd come to expect him out of the strangest places. His presence was comforting, even when you were unprepared for it. And unprepared you were, as he stepped out of the shadows while you were getting ready for the day. He looked you up and down for a few seconds, before pulling you in for a passionate kiss.

ALPHARIUS OMEGON- You weren't sure whether this was Alpharius or Omegon, but you knew that he was one of the two because he was slightly taller than the average space marine. It became a game you played with yourself. While he was talking with you, you tried to discern which brother you were talking to. You were right... half of the time. While you were staring and thinking, he planted a quick kiss on your lips. You were too stunned to make a guess.

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littleclevercat · 7 years

Text

ADB's words about Emperor's portrayal in the "Master of Mankind"

“That’s true, and I definitely wanted to bring out a better understanding of his vision and what he was up against, but that’s also lore I’d wager anyone with a deep knowledge of the setting already had a handle on to some degree, whether explicitly or not. What I wanted to avoid was too much "new” stuff. You have to put in something new, and thankfully what little newness I do introduce in my work is seemingly well-regarded, but I’ve always said our job (as I see it) is to illustrate the setting and show what it’s like to live there, not to set it in stone. As much as the fandom adores “advancing the storyline”, it’s not something that interests me, by and large. I try my best to show things from the perspectives of characters on the ground level, bring a few perceptions of the setting through the lens of my own imagination and the insight I’m lucky enough to get endlessly talking about the setting with its creators and inheritors, and then get out. Most of my books are, to some extent, not definitive. They’re about Some Guy, not the entire faction.

Grimaldus in Helsreach has no bond to the wider war on Armageddon and hates that he’s been left behind by the Black Templars, but he’s (hopefully) a good example of what it feels like to be a Black Templar, and to think like one, and - crucially - what it feels like to be a human around them. Talos and the other characters of First Claw spend a trilogy unable to decide what the Night Lords Legion really was, and each of them remembers their glory days differently. I didn’t want to speak for the whole Legion. Hyperion in The Emperor’s Gift is a largely generic Grey Knight present in dire circumstances. HH-wise, I didn’t want to show all of the Word Bearers and base a book around the expectations of Kor Phaeron, Lorgar, and Erebus, so I focused on the Serrated Sun in the middle of the changes taking place across the galaxy. Savage Weapons is largely about Corswain, not about Curze and the Lion. The Master of Mankind is about Ra, Zephon, Jaya, and Land in the heart of the Emperor’s plans for the species, not about the Emperor himself. As much as I wrote about Angron and Lorgar, they get significantly less in-their-heads screen time than most other primarchs in most other books.

It’s harder to do that with the Heresy, but - again - I do my best to present individual experiences and mindsets in characters like Khârn, Argel Tal, and Ra, rather than definitive looks at the entire Chapter/Legion/faction and setting its events in stone. I try to present a feel for how it is to live inside that culture and be part of the experiences they go through; it’s about immersion into the Chapter or Legion, presenting them as believable and real, not definitively saying “All of Chapter X are like Y.” So: I’m reluctant to talk about TMoM and the Emperor’s perception in that book in any real detail, partly because the book is still new and there’s a lot individual readers would do better discovering for themselves without my thoughts in public, and partly because everything I’d say is ultimately in the book. Anything I say will be taken out of context or weaponised one way or another somewhere, and used in a way that makes me sigh, cringe, or a dramatic melange of both that shall hereafter be called the sigh-cringe. (Plus, most of all, I have faith in readers. They don’t need me defining anything, even if it might be interesting for a few peeps.)

So, I’ll just say this. The Master of Mankind is entirely from the perspectives of people that meet the Emperor in pretty specific circumstances. There are, obviously, other circumstances to come. Nothing in it is definitive, even less so than my usual work. Any definitive statement you can make about how the Emperor sees something or does something is almost always contradicted in the book itself. That’s not an escape clause or an excuse. It’s the point. Writing him definitively would’ve been the easiest and most disappointing thing in the world. (And on that note, remember, everyone views 40K differently. What Person X is absolutely certain is the truth of the Emperor and the best way to present him would be laughed off by Persons A, B, and C. The flip side to that is that not every perspective is founded in fact or understanding. The earliest “I’ve not read this yet, but…” criticisms and misunderstandings of TMoM in, ah, certain reddit/chan-style locations was regarded by GW IP folks as, I quote: “These angry people seem to be beholden to a version of 40K that has never existed…”) But in all seriousness, I don’t want to delve too deeply into explaining the ways the Emperor’s contradictions matter or don’t matter. They’re there, and they’re definitely formative - totally agree - if not exactly definitive. With the Emperor, a lot of interaction is about getting out what you put in. You get what you give. Your perceptions and expectations are reflected back on you because that’s how the human brain perceives everything (a fact that cannot be overstated; the science behind it is fascinating and all-important), especially when you’re talking about someone who exists on that plane of power. At one point the Emperor makes mention of the notion that he’s not even speaking, that being near to him allows the conveyance of meaning through psychic osmosis, and communication telepathically. He’s not even talking. It’s raw understanding filtering through a mind, or just the way the mortal mind comprehends the aura of what the Emperor intends, or, or, or… That’s what I mean. TMoM is littered with that stuff. Does he only address the primarchs by number instead of name? Some characters will swear he does that, and doesn’t that just perfectly match their perspectives of the primarchs as either emotionally-compromised “too-human” things that think they’re sons (Ra), or genetic masterworks that have become galaxy-damning screw-ups that have literally let the galaxy burn and brought the Imperium to its knees, leading people to be exiled from their homeworlds (Land). Do you think Sanguinius will agree? Or care that’s what mortals think? The Emperor’s portrayal on that isn’t even consistent between Ra and Diocletian, two of his Custodians - and on PAGE ONE, the only time he interacts with a primarch himself, and the one and only thing he says to Magnus the Red is…? "Magnus.“

Like… that’s a pretty strong indication that the interactions which follow are playing by different rules. Ra sees the Warlord of Humanity, just a man, but a great mean, weary and defiant, burdened by responsibility. Daemons see their annihilation, and go insane in his presence. One of the Knights, as they’re marching through the Throne Room, is caught in religious rapture, unable to do anything but stare at the glorious halo of the Emperor of Mankind on the Golden Throne. One of the Sisters of Silence, in the same room, literally just sees a man in a chair. Another character, not Imperial, asks a Custodian if the Emperor even breathes. She believes he’s a weapon left out of its box from the Dark Age of Technology. (With thanks to Alan Bligh for that one, he adores that theory.) So I don’t think it’s exactly a spoiler to say that if and when I get to write a character like Sanguinius in the Emperor’s presence, or Malcador, they’d have entirely different experiences than Ra and Land. I’d loved to have had that in TMoM, but as much as it would’ve given wider context, these aren’t rulebooks and essays; it would’ve been self-indulgent for the sake of ‘hoping people get it’, and cheapened the story being told, which was ultimately in a very narrow and confined set of circumstances. Breaking out of that narrative would be offering a sense of scope and freedom I was specifically trying to avoid in a claustrophobic siege story. Because theme and atmosphere is a thing.”

#submission #text #the watcher #the emperor of mankind #the master of mankind #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40000

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moodymisty · 2 months

Note

Mayhaps some Angron/fem reader with 7+12+54 from your kink list if you’re up for it? He seems like the kinda guy that would bite and definitely wouldn’t be gentle about anything in the slightest

[ 𝕸𝖔𝖔𝖉𝖞𝕸𝖎𝖘𝖙𝖞'𝖘 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙 | 𝕬𝖔3 ]

Authors’s Note: Suedo-continuation of this fic. Time to ride that massive Nucerian dick all the way to the pearly gates. Or at minimum to the infirmary. I've been beating my head on this for ages and it has dust on it, but enjoy.

Summary: Angron returns to Terra from a crusade, and finds himself wanting.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader (reader from my StolenHistoritor!series)

Warnings: NSFW, Rough sex, Biting, That World Eaters dick hit different and by different I mean it rearranges your insides like a blender

Word Count: 1227

Lady of the World Eaters.

You don't like the title; But no one knows what else to call you. Simply put it was the only title that appealed to your current stature, even if it doesn't perfectly fit.

You aren't his beloved, you don't know if he can even utter such a word, but you know there is something here that he deems special. Perhaps there just isn't a word for it, in High or Low Gothic.

Angron’s Macgragge-born Historitor just doesn’t ring quite as well, either. Is a bit of a mouthful as well.

Angron's wing of the massive Imperial palace is its own world in an of itself. You could only assume that the other Primarchs have similar living quarters that are appropriately grandiose, though it's only speculation; You haven't seen them and probably will never will.

But you had just gotten out of a bath when Angron returned. The loose piece of clothing you put on simply to prevent from getting cold hit your mid thighs, shapeless and thin. It wicked up the water against your skin slowly, until you felt mostly dry.

The loud thud of boots on the stone floor had gave him away, but for a moment you had assumed it was simply the sound of patrolling Custodes; Until it continued closer and closer, and then stopped.

Angron entered, lacking the brushed and scratched bronze armor you're so used to him wearing. Instead he wore a more comfortable- at least you assume so- pair of trousers that tucked into thick, furred boots. He lacked any sort of top, as despite Terra being quite frigid currently, he had little care about it. If he's anything like his Astartes, his blood runs so hot it would take a chill beyond what Terra can produce to make him shiver.

You stood there frozen, half dressed and standing damp in the middle of a dim room. He looked down with an unreadable expression from his overwhelming height. It felt like minutes, but it was more than likely only a few moments.

But you'd never felt so small as you had then; Unable to know what he was thinking. It was always hard to, but even then it seemed like he was impossible to know where he was in his own head.

As while you've kissed him, and he's returned it, it's never gone much farther. You had assumed the Nails had taken it away; His ability to feel something as intrinsically human as desire.

But apparently, he still can.

“A-Angr-“

Your voice comes out in short gasps has he fucks you, fists clenched. It feels like he’s in your stomach, and he can only just bury himself to the hilt. You’d fear what would happen if he pushed it even farther. If he lost just a bit of restraint.

Perhaps it’s another part of the Nails’ torture. That the one person he's found that actually loves him he can’t even touch to the fullest, that they aren’t made for him and could crack under the slightest misuse.

He hasn’t said a word, other than sharp breaths and grunts, his hand on your hips bruising as he pulls you to him. You had been on your knees, but it was not long before your fell to your stomach and laid nearly flat on the massive ocean of a bed.

Your neck aches, you know he's broken skin and blood probably trickled down your neck, only now having relief that he can no longer reach it. The angle would be too severe, he stands too tall to be able to press his face into your neck while he fucks you.

It had felt good at the time, now it complains and aches, and you'll have marks serving as an easy reminder to you'll need to cover up.

Your hands grip the bed with your nails threatening to tear the fabric, intricate and expensive; Far beyond anything Angron is used to. You know he's refused most of Terra's more frivolous things. Perhaps that's yet another reason why his fellow primarchs have been so surprised by your existence, perhaps.

Your face feels hot, skin boiling as your stomach ties itself in knots, tight like it’s going to snap. You haven't looked towards him in awhile, you can see his shadow and feel his bare skin against your own, but for some reason you can't gather the will to look over your shoulder. Perhaps it's the embarrassment, as he brushes against nerves to deep inside of you that you gasp and squirm underneath him. His grip keeps you held firm however, as even though escape is the last thing on your mind, you'd never be able to do so anyways.

He is still be going to leave your battered and bruised for days, however. Even with his grip on your hip being so soft for his own strength. But his gentleness in context has left you trying to swallow moans instead of screams.

You attempt to keep most of the swears you utter under your breath as you cum, fingers tight around your one mouth as he simply continues to fuck you.

It’s so close to pain, but you’re used to teetering that knife’s edge with him. That how it feels at almost every moment you're around him. You barely notice it, anymore.

You can feel the moment he finishes inside you from the way he slows, and you hear his fist clench around the metal of the bedframe tight enough to crunch it. More restraint. He's always trying to keep the Nails held back.

You can also tell just how much; When he pulls out you can immediately feel it leak from you, slick against your thighs.

He pulls away, and you can still hear his sharp exhales through his nose. You don't know if it's because he's actually winded like yourself, with a racing heart and flushed skin, or that the Nails are biting at his mind again.

You roll, giving a soft groan in pain as you look up from underneath him.

You feel so small.

One of his hands reaches towards you and grips your jaw tilting it; You barely manage to hold in a wince as he observes your battered neck.

He’s silent. Angron is surprisingly so whenever you’re around. You always wonder what he’s thinking. He notices the bruising and droplets of blood on your neck, at minimum. That even the most gentle abused caused it. You hear him let out an exhale.

“You should go to the apothecary.” He’s blunt. You lay more comfortably in the bed underneath him, but you still feel pinned under his eyes. If he was someone else you'd think he was wanting you to leave, but from the way he's looking at you and keeping you caged, that seems to be the last thing he wants.

“It doesn’t hurt,” You say, and he hums. “I’ll wait till tomorrow.” The blood has stopped, anyhow. It'll be more painful to leave him and spend an hour there than it would be to just lay here. The entire time you've still felt his hand on your hip, skin warm. It drifts down slightly more towards your thigh.

He shifts and moves to once more press his mouth against your neck, but gives you little more than an accepted noise of understanding.

#Angron x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #Angron/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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moodymisty · 7 months

Note

Hi love your fics. Would you be willing to do an angron x reader. He gets so little content

Part 2

Author's Note: You are my light, anon. Thank you for giving me the platform to go fucking apeshit about my favorite Traitor Primarch. Even if he's not a traitor (yet uwu) in this. It's not my best work, but I've been sitting on this idea for awhile now and decided to just write it before I lost it to time.

Summary: Angron takes interest in a poor young soul who's presence can soothe the nails, much to your own terror.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Uhhh it's fucking Angron?, It's pretty early so he's not as consumed by anger as he is later in the Crusade, Angron looks at another Primarch's serf and goes yoink I want that, He doesn't kidnap you yet but he wants to lmao, General 40kness so war death blood mentions etc etc (for those curious, this is vaguely based after canon, where it's said that the thought of Sanguinius could soothe Angron's Butcher's Nails)

Word Count: 2002

You have ten more minutes. You know once these men finish their set of training drills, you'll have to be back in the librarium. Your desk and it's piles of documents hails you like some sort of terrible beckoning call.

This has been your system for awhile now, as the frigid air blows through your clothing. The Astartes in training are entertaining during your rare moments of peace, as you lean against the railing to watch.

To think so few people will ever live to see an Astartes, and you watch them train so often. A luxury to be taken advantage of, you suppose.

You lean against the railing with more weight, your arms crossed over the ornate topping. They're so far away you can't quite tell what chapter they belong to, but you can see bits of white and red on the few men that are wearing pieces of their armor.

You wonder if they even know you're here, and if they did, if they'd even care. You're not of their chapter that much is for certain, as they lack the blue gold coloring and the stalwart regime that is signature of the Ultramarines. These warriors fight like it's a free for all, unlike the rigid one on one training the Astartes of Macragge are accustomed to.

You swear you feel the ground almost shake for a moment, but you just end up assuming that it's from the training down below. Or perhaps something elsewhere out of view. You pay it no mind, and continue enjoying your few minutes of respite.

Then there's a feeling in the pit of your stomach that makes your lips purse, looking up at the sky. You can just barely see the legions of ships moored close enough to the planet. There's always so many, even more so when a chapter returns to Terra for brief periods of time.

You hear footsteps coming from behind you; Heavy and armored. More than likely an Astartes, if you had to take a guess. It's better for your own well being if you just make yourself small and don't catch their eye, hoping they don't even notice you.

The footfall continues closer, and closer, until it sounds like they're mere centimeters from you. They must be passing by, until they suddenly stop. There's a shadow overtaking your form from behind, And when you see it's outline, you freeze.

The shadow is massive. It swallows you up and the ornate edges of the armor cue you into the fact that this isn't just anyone. Unless they are of a high enough ranking to sport such unique armor. But you're gut says that this shadow is far too large to belong to an Astartes, and every other sense in your body agrees.

It has to be a Primarch. You can see the absolutely massive shadow, the booming footsteps from earlier, and the feeling. The feeling alone makes you know well this isn't a random Astartes who's becoming oddly interested in you.

The sons of the Emperor are known to have what can only be described as an aura around them, which seems to affect anyone in there vicinity. How they react to it depends on the person, but for most, it's usually fear hidden underneath a mask of stalwart servitude.

Thickly swallowing, you glance as far to the side as you can to see if you can figure out which one it is.

You can see, gold. brushed, but faded gold armor. Beaten and worn though still containing a particular luster about it. Higher up your eyes travel, and you see a faded outline of something around the kneeplate. It looks like, spikes, or a crude representation of teeth. Up a little farther, and you see something dangling from his hip; Cleaned bleached skulls and-

Oh god. Oh god.

You feel your heart slamming against your chest. It's going to break out, you just know it and you can't do anything to stop it.

It's not as if coming face to face with any Primarch is something to be taken lightly. But this isn't The Angel or The Raven. This isn't even your own Primarch Guilliman, who you've only seen a few times in your life.

This is Primarch Angron.

You can't run from him. He'd kill you within an instant if not for the sheer disrespect of it, but for triggering something in him that makes him think you're prey. You only hope that you can hold strong enough that he doesn't hear your heartbeat, or how your trying not to shake in your boots.

Slowly you turn your head more, eyes trailing up his legplate, then his chestplate, before finally reaching his face.

The metal cords coming from his head fall over his armored shoulders almost like chunks of hair, though distinctly old and worn. The metal is rugged; Beaten and warped. Underneath some of them you can see deep red tattoos, some of which trail onto his face. They're warped and shifted by his numerous scars, scattered across his face from forehead to neck. They're all old, long healed and forever telling a story that only he knows.

His eyes bear down on you, the deep red unreadable. He isn't reacting to you at all, but that angered expression is permanently spread across his face. The deep furrow in his brow, the look in his eyes. He's like a pot constantly on the edge of boiling over and scalding everything close.

He has to be toying with you. Like a Fenrisian wolf tossing it's broken, beaten prey up in the air like a game before finally taking the final bite. Is there any other reason why someone who dances along the line between man and god would look your way? Is he just waiting to see how long until you react?

But as quickly as he arrived, he leaves. Turns on one massive armored boot and begins walking down the gilded hallway.

You only have the will to turn your head and watch him move away when he's taken more than a dozen steps away, seeing the battered gold of his armor. His thick furred cape just barely brushes the ground- the frayed edge ripped from endless wear and tear flowing behind him . You let out a breath you didn't know you were holding and look back down towards the training Astartes. You peel your hands away from the railing you didn't realize you'd been holding with a death grip, palms slick with sweat.

You hoped desperately that it would be the only time you'd see the Primarch of the World Eaters. To survive once you'd already consider a miracle.

But it wasn't. Maybe the gods that are whispered about in various tomes have something planned for you. Maybe it's some sort of sick joke.

You see him once more not long later, and the exact same interaction occurs. You don't say a word, he doesn't either, and you assume you either pass some sort of trial only he knows or he just grows bored of you, and leaves.

The third time however, you dare to speak.

"Lord Primarch, do you, require something of me?"

Your voice is so soft he barely hears it, over the sound of clashing weaponry and fists on flesh. You look up at him but hesitate to look him in the eyes, but his own look traps you none the less.

You're a librarian or historitor of some sort in allegiance to the Ultramarines. He recognizes the blue and gold symboling embroidered onto your clothing from the various Astartes that traipse around with it plastered all over their armor, and their fancy, hand woven capes.

Gawdy and pointless. You'd topple over your own robes if you tried to run.

But you aren't running, aren't you?

Other serfs he passes by crumple like paper and plastic flimsies, but you're holding strong; A steel box that might be crumpling and walls concaving but still held together.

Angron looks to his left and over the railing out onto the vast open area. Khârn is out there, training Neophytes and newly blooded World Eaters. The warrior has no need for the diplomacy that you're more than likely used to from the Ultramarines, as Gorechild smashes into a thick plating of ceramite with one heavy swing. It sends the Neophyte to the ground in a split second. He looks back towards you, and notices that while your eyes glanced for a moment to follow his own, they now look back at him.

"You enjoying watching them fight." It's what he's found you doing every time he's passed you.

But it takes you a moment until you look up and see that he's staring at you, and that he wants an answer from you.

"Yes. I do."

You see his hand reach out, massive- Your eyes blink closed for just a moment in preparation for whatever he was about to inflict on you.

But instead, he grabs your jaw.

It still hurts, squishing your skin upward and forcing you to look up at him from an awkward angle, but it's far better than dying. You notice the way he stares at you.

He stares back, watching as your wide eyes dart around his face looking for answers.

Then he feels it.

He feels the stabbing, shrieking, aching pain of his nails dull ever so slightly as he watches. Glances over your soft skin. Meets your eyes. So the first time hadn't just been a trick of the light.

Your hands are frozen hovering at waist height, trying to figure out what you should do. Should you put them down, hold completely frozen until he finds or doesn't find whatever he's looking for in you? Or should you reach up and dare to touch the tarnished golden armor that has such a hold of you?

"Lord Primarch?" You mutter, hoping for an answer he doesn't seem keen on giving.

If anyone has passed by this scene they've not so much as uttered a word. None of them would, you'd have to be insane to interrupt a Primarch doings. You wonder for a moment if this scene would look comical from another's point of view.

One of your hands reaches up, shaking as you place it on the armor of his forearm. It's almost hilariously tiny- but much to your surprise the armor feels less cold that you would've thought. You place it there in the rough area of his wrist and try gently hold on and support yourself.

You're still petrified; Angron can see that emotion no matter how deep it's layered beneath other emotions on someone's face. When young men were thrown at him to die in those sandy pits, and he'd see the fear hidden underneath their anger. But as it fades and you become more confused by him than frightened, he feels yet another soothing wave go over his Butcher's Nails.

It's nowhere near enough- they still rip through his brain demanding him to kill to main to scream and bellow, but to edge that away just slightly is to give him relief he hasn't felt since before they dug this hideous tech deep into the recesses of his skull.

He doesn't know what it is about you that's doing it, but he knows he wants it. He wants you.

"Your name. What is it."

You stutter for a moment before speaking. The name is foreign; But given you more than likely hail from one of the many planets under Guilliman's rule, it makes sense.

His fingers shift over your face, and your jaw aches. He notices your hand on his arm and when he lets go, you use that same hand to rub your face.

He'll have to be careful. You're more breakable than him. But if you can dull the pain that sears through his head at every aching moment, then perhaps he'll have enough room in his head to spare the thought to be.

#i love a man that would literally just kill me. rip my head right off.#Angron x reader #primarch x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #Angron/Reader #reader insert #reader #mywriting

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moodymisty · 7 months

Text

Part 1 (some needed context)

Author's Note: Part two, as was requested. I need to stop listening to Halsey when I write, I always end up making things too verbose and hyperbolic.

Also pspspsps @rivalriotrenegade you wanted to be tagged in the sequel? Here you go.

Summary: Angron will be leaving soon, and he comes to take in a moment of you beforehand.

Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader

Warnings: Angron being Angron, Vague descriptions of death violence and gore, General 40kness, The most emotionally stunted man in the galaxy receives an affection, Historitor!Reader is scared but in love horny

Word Count: 1942

Guilliman hadn’t been pleased with the news.

It had arrived to him via a distressed captain who had been attempting to deal with the issue discretely up until now, but in his attempts to track down their missing historitor, he had found you in Angron’s company. You didn’t seem to be in any sort of severe peril, but the captain expressed his concerns of the World Eater’s Primarch trouncing when he didn’t belong, as well as encroaching on someone who might hold secrets to their legion.

Guilliman agreed with most of the captain’s concerns, but also hesitated. His hand hovered over half written parchment as ink threatened to drop from the tip of his pen.

Roboute has no desire to pick a fight with another Primarch over one historitor. And if any information ended up in the hands of the World Eaters, he would know exactly where it came from. He would deal with the matter then as swiftly as he would any other traitor.

In the end, he simply instructs the captain to keep watch on the matter.

The scenario is unique after all; You seem to be no traitor, but now spend almost all of your time in the presence of the World Eaters. Guilliman’s captain had described the scene in a confused manner, wondering as to why the Primarch had taken such a keen, almost obsessive interest in one soul in particular. Roboute thinks he has an inkling why, but his captain simply doesn’t have the experience to understand. Afterall he’s known nothing but battleship halls and bolters, these sorts of thoughts are… Foreign.

With no solid solution and the threat of a legion wide war with any misstep, The Macragge native elects to largely abandon the matter, and mark any information related to you with a note saying to refer to the relevant paperwork for more information.

—------------------------------

The Conqueror is the first Gloriana class battleship you’ve ever seen in anything but historical documents, and those transcriptions fail to even capture a hint of the overwhelming scale of the massive battleship. The barges you’ve seen are huge, but even they don’t compare to the size of the World Eater’s flagship.

It stays moored in the planet’s upper atmosphere, but it’s impossible not to see it lingering in the sky alongside a myriad of other ships. Servitors and other such are loading heaps of supplies into low orbit cruisers to bring back up to the massive battleship, preparing it for another long journey out into the reaches of Imperium space.

Part of you wonders if Angron expects you to join him. You desperately hope not, but in another odd sort of way, you find it almost saddening to be without him for an extended period of time. You know that there are horrors out there that can rend the mind into pieces, that being behind Terra’s walls is to be afforded a luxury so few in the galaxy will touch that the mere thought of leaving should cast you in an unbearable shame. But it seems so completely ridiculous to say that you’ll miss him. Though the thought still crosses your mind anyhow.

You hear the sounds of his heavy footsteps approaching. You’ve been away from his side most of the day, so you figured it was due time for him to eventually hunt you down. He stands not a step away from you once he finds his hunt for you concluded, looking outward towards the mass of Terran servitors and other workers hauling World Eaters requisitions to where ever they're needed.

“You are staying. If you are wondering.”

Part of you feels a sense of relief from it. While you might have a fondness for Angron, his World Eaters are significantly less appealing to you. They only tolerate your existence due to the repeated threats of their Primarch. Khârn has also questioned his genefather; The still unfilled crack in his ceramite armor remains as evidence of it. His doubt had hurt, but you can’t help but feel his questioning was justified.

It’s not as if you can do much for them, beyond what you do for their Primarch. In the eyes of men bred for war, you’re the meaningless byproduct of a planet they protect more because they enjoy the bloodshed of doing so than anything else. Whether you are alive or dead is a meaningless query to them.

You curiously look up at Angron, who is gazing over the massive shipyard.

"You're leaving soon, I suppose." The Primarch lets out an affirmative grunt in response.

It hasn’t been long of you knowing him, and you’re still cautiously testing what territory can be tread, and what very much cannot be. There’s not much of the former, and plenty of the ladder.

You have learned that he seems to enjoy whenever how larger and stronger he is than you- when his prowess in brutal combat, is prominent. That isn’t a hard thing to achieve, given his height you stand at roughly his midsection. The Primarch absolutely towers over you and while he knows it sends fear through you, you fight it.

As you watch over the railing you suddenly feel a heavy weight on your shoulder, and glancing to your left it’s easy to see the bronze colored gauntlet that now rests there.

You know that whenever he does that, a weight on your body, he’s attempting to take solace in the weird ability you somehow possess. You gently lay a hand over his armored one, fingers brushing over the knicks and scratches of his worn, battered plate. He’s worn it for many years, it shows the story of endless battles and it’s still able to hold so many more.

You don’t know how long it’ll be till you see him again. The warp, it’s, power; Time doesn’t work the same way out there that it does on Terra. You want to give him one last before he leaves, but you hope that it doesn’t ruin the little bit of progress you’ve made with him.

“Can you, bend over? So I can reach you?”

You don’t know what you had expected for when you hesitantly asked, but you hadn’t expected the Primarch to indulge you.

His massive weight shifts, landing on his right knee with a loud enough thud, that you swear the marble beneath his knee plate is surely cracked. With him at this height, your hands can touch his face, feeling the way it’s decorated with a million different little scars. Some large- thick, deep cuts like one over his brow, or over his lips. Others are smaller, not visible from so far away but you can feel them under your fingertips.

“Can you tell me how you got some of these one day?”

Angron grunts.

“The arena, most of them. I killed anyone who struck me. They are nothing but sand now.”

Your face drops. Sometimes you forget that Angron has never felt anything but pain his entire life. And it’ll continue, as the nails will never be removed. What little you can do to them only serves to prolong what he feels. Your fingers brush over more of his mauled skin.

One might call it cruel. But you want him to have at least a few moments of peace in his life.

Your fingertips brush along the scarred skin around where the nails dig into his skull, glancing at his expression. It’s softened ever so slightly, but you can see anger still etched into his skin.

You don’t know how you went from the brain hijacking, heart wrenching terror, to feeling this way. Part of you will still always remain frightened of him; Of the sheer strength he can barely keep in check in the best of moments, that is always boiling beneath the surface. But there’s something that over time has gradually fallen over that terror like a thick heavy curtain draped atop a coffin.

You love him.

In a way that makes you sick to your stomach, churning in a way that has you petrified to be near him, but also away from him.

You can’t say that he’s been kind. You’d be stupid to even assume as such; Even with the key you hold, he’s still him. His grip on you is rough- your body has bruises from shoulder to wrist, he speaks to you in short quips. He uses more words now, but he still will never reflect back whatever you give him. You can see the moments where he tries, but he simply isn’t capable of it. You can’t ask a man who’s known nothing but endless pain and suffering to suddenly not rip and tear every hand that reaches for him. But you can maybe numb it- put bandages over gushing wounds and cover scars, trying to give a modicum of kindness before he’s sunken down too deep into his own abyss.

You can feel him watch you as your hands touch his face, his brow is tight knit and his armor makes soft metal noises as pieces gently knock against each other when he shifts. The hand that had been on your shoulder has long since moved, it now wraps around your elbow instead; As if he’s debating removing you.

You hold a softness in your eyes reserved for the closeness of family, friends, or lovers. He’s so rarely seen it that recognizing it was nearly impossible for him. But you look at him like that, like he’s the only thing in your world that matters. Your hands touch his face so gently he swears he can’t feel them. Like they would fall right through him as if attempting to touch a hologram.

How?

Angron doesn't understand why. He isn’t something you can love. There’s just, nothing in him capable of receiving or reciprocating it. He’s done nothing but kill, tear, maim, splatter every wall he’s near with the blood of others or his own.

To be the object of another’s affection is a laughable concept. He’s a creature, a creation of war; Lorgar likes to call the Primarchs the product of the Emperor’s Mastery, his sons, as much as the phrase makes bile rise in his throat- but Angron knows he’s nothing but a pieced together amalgamation of DNA made to fulfill a purpose. He was not made to feel any of this.

You kiss him.

You feel his hot breath on your face, his hands clenching into fists and threatening to dent the ceramite of his armor. He tries to funnel his anger there; His anger at the galaxy, at the Emperor, at the thought that you actually are stupid enough to think there’s something in him worthy of paying this level of gentleness to. He’s never felt things like this before. He’d never wanted to; Because he knows that the pain of it being taken away hurts far worse than the pain of never feeling it to begin with.

His face is rough as he pushes back into you, and you feel pleased to know that you didn’t overstep. He hears your soft sigh as you lean into him, hands still on his face.

But Angron knows there will be a point where you can numb it no longer. The nails are a part of him, an ever growing sea pulling him deeper and deeper into a blood red abyss. It drags him down no matter how hard he fights it, with no hope of safety or even temporary sanctuary.

When he’s fully under, when he can no longer see ally from foe and your face and touch and voice becomes no more soothing to him than the likes of any incomprehensible field of demons yearning for his blade to slice their hide, as his nails scream and bite and beg for him to taste blood;

He dares to hope only then will someone fulfill his role of taking anger unto themself, and put him out of his torment.

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