#emperor of mankind x reader

[ms--lobotomy]

@liar-anubiass-blog hi! Tumblr has a habit of deleting the very ask I want to write for when it is its turn. Here's your Emps being a bit of a silly billy.

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summary: you are a poor unfortunate immortal who the emperor happened to take an interest in before the whole imperium of man thing. have fun with that

word count: 1353

content warnings: a bit of gore, a bit of longing for death, a very yandere man (god?) thing, also this shit is TOXIC toxic so beware, also he uses female words so if youre not a girl just pretend he used masculine pronouns i guess

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It all started when you were minding your own business, crossing the street sometime in the 3rd millenium. It was late at night, and you were walking alone to your car, parked a little ways away from your workplace. You started to cross the street. A car barrelled towards you, moving haphazardly through the street. You barely had time to turn your head before it collided with you, flattening your frail body. Bones cracked open, flesh fell apart and blood poured from every opening.

After the offending car had frantically drove away, you felt your bones moving back to where they should go and fresh blood oozing back into your form. Soon you were standing up right where you had been before you were struck, work uniform and all. You raised a hand to your cheek. The blood was inside, where it was supposed to be.

You never told a soul about the event. After all, who would believe you? But this was not the only thing you found strange. As you grew older, you never aged. It was a little strange around your 30s or 40s, but you knew something was up once you hit 50. Faking your death was challenging, but you somehow made it work, ready to start life in a new city.

And city to city you roamed, never staying in one place for too long. You began to hate, loathe this curse that had been put upon you. One part of humanity that everyone else had shared was no longer yours. You wanted to die, you wanted it to end when your time was up. But time marched on, and so did you.

You'd moved onto your next city, ready and resigned to this process you had carved out for yourself. Get some crummy job serving slop to people who sometimes yelled obscenities at you, find a place to rent for a little while, and hunker down and hope your secret would be safe.

But something was different about this city, you felt a pair of eyes on you no matter where you went. You weren't sure where they came from, but you now walked a little brisker and you certainly now slept a little less soundly. You requested, you begged to work at the back of the seedy restaurant you worked at, a request which was never granted. So you toiled away at the front, ever cautious to remain inconspicuous.

But all of that would be for naught in the end. You were once again walking home from work, complete with a disheveled uniform. He was a taller man who hadn't had to do much to keep up with your brisk place. He was adorned with long black hair, honey-brown eyes and golden skin. His voice was deep and commanding.

"I know what you are." He put a hand around the back of your neck, his index finger tapping it lightly.

You froze. He stopped walking next to you, looking down on you. "Hell of an opener," you said after a few moments of silence. "Ever introduce yourself?"

"You'll know who I am soon enough," he replied. He tightened his hand around the back of your neck. How tall was he? Maybe around seven or eight feet? "Keep quiet and follow me or I'll snap it."

You felt a lump form in your throat. You'd been very careful to keep your secret from the outside world. If your neck was snapped in broad daylight and you somehow came back from it, there would be no more secrets to keep.

"Ready to go?" he asked.

You walked through the busy streets, never meeting the gazes of the city folk. Some of them looked at their feet when you stared back at them, some of them kept looking. "What a lovely couple!" exclaimed an older lady before meandering past the two of you. You thought your feet were going to fall off before the strange man turned into a more suburban area of town. "Not too far left to go," he said, the corner of his mouth turned up in a smirk.

As soon as you felt you couldn't do it anymore, he led you up the steps of a beaten-down two-story house. His grip was tight enough that you couldn't even consider running away. With his free hand, he pulled a key out of his pocket and inserted it into the door. As he turned it, his hand trailed town towards your waist, grip tight as ever.

"Welcome to your new home," he smirked.

"My rent is due tomorrow," you remarked.

"You're not going to need it ever again," he said, pushing you into the house. This strange man had a maximalist aesthetic, little decorations were crammed into every corner of the place. He closed the door and led you through the halls, going slow to let you take in every little bit of it.

"So you're kidnapping me," you said flatly.

"That's a bit of an unkind way to put it, don't you think?" he asked. He pulled you close to him. You felt your heart beating in your chest. Not now, you thought.

"Think about it this way. You have a secret. A secret that I have as well. Don't you want to hide? Don't you want to slip under the radar?" he asked again. His hand slipped off of your waist and he knelt towards you, taking your hand in his.

"Do I know you?" you asked. You tried to pull away, but his grip was so tight it was bound to leave a nasty bruise.

"You may not know me, but I know you to your heart," he replied. "I've seen all that I need to see. You working long hours at that dead end job all but broke my heart. Those customers didn't see what I saw. I saw a beautiful individual stuck in a terrible existence. I saw you before me, living in fear. Don't you think you deserve to be freed from that existence?"

Your mouth hung slightly open. "You were the one following me," you said softly. "How did you have the time for that?" You pulled your hand away from his, and this time he relented.

"You can't explain the day you died and came back, can you?" he asked. "It's a little bit like that, don't you understand? I'm like you. I can help you. I can save you."

Your expression softened. "How?" you asked.

He stood up. He towered over you still, casting a shadow over you. "How about we head upstairs," he suggested, grabbing your arm and tugging you up the wooden stairs.

His bedroom was just as cluttered as his house was, if not more. There may have been around a dozen pillows on his bed, partially obscured by silky curtains. Light filtered through a window on the side of the room, illuminating books and statues and other little pieces of art.

"Where did you get all of this?" you asked. His hand trailed down your arm to meet your hand, engulfing it.

"I've lived a long time," he replied, leading you to the bed. He sat on it, pulling you onto his lap. "Longer than you have. Longer than you could comprehend." You could hear your heart beating in your chest again as he wrapped his arms around you. He buried his head in the crook of your neck, and you sat there for a moment, still. The curtains to the window fluttered slightly, the light made its way onto the both of you.

You weren't supposed to feel safe. You'd never seen this man before today, he all but kidnapped you. But you thought of your old life, hiding in nooks and crannies that the world couldn't find. Even if you would have to leave this area one day, you knew you weren't the only person afflicted with this curse.

You leaned back into his touch. You relaxed, going limp in his arms. He turned and planted a kiss on your exposed neck, just above where your collar ended.

"Good girl," he said.

#warhammer 40k x reader #emperor of mankind x reader #emperor of mankind #reader insert #warhammer 40k #warhammer lobotomy #oops i went a little apeshit but thats ok #i kinda wanna write a sequel for this but its like 10 pm and im folded

[his-dedicated-sensei]

Anatomy.

A small musing on quiet evenings with the Emperor.

It's a simple affair to Him.

You rest there, body cushioned by velvet, head only slightly raised by the softest of cotton pillows. You don't question how He can manage this luxury with His grand ideas going on. But you rest.

His footfalls are what you know best. Each feels like thunder, yet, with the rhythmic timing of a metronome. You remember flinching when you first heard Him, in that armour of His, with all those mighty warriors by His side. You are as you were now - without fear.

His hands - ah, more His fingers - it's hard to explain. He begins to massage, just along your ankles, and shins. It does not take Him long - but He knows it intricately. The body, that is (and not just yours). You feel every moment, laying there, His hands working every muscle, every tendon. To Him, it was the simple idea of recounting anatomy in your being - how a human should be, how they were put together.

He works. It's silent, mostly, but exquisite - even your bones come to rest as you feel those hands of His move towards the knees, then to your thighs. Millennia of being with humans, you wager, is how He learned. A breath leaves your body, shaky, yet relaxed. He loves this body, you wager, for He knows it more than others. It's His favourite to diagram - yet, He'd never tell.

The Custodes paint you, sometimes. He guides them on the finer details of anatomy - your anatomy. After all, you are human, just human, brilliantly human. That's why, in these moments, away from the humans He saves daily, He turns to you.

You wager, as His fingers now graze along your hip - ah, there's another breath - you wager He does it to remind Himself. Not of what anatomy is, but why He cherishes it. Why - goodness, that's... a bit of a new spot - why He keeps fighting for our sakes.

You feel His breath, for a moment. This position, you see Him reflect a moment on your midriff, as if counting all the cells within you - all the blood running through veins and arteries - you gently shift your leg, finding the blush on your face too bright.

He looks to you. He moves back, softly, though you hear Him chuckle. Anatomy, after all, is simple to Him, in how it reacts. Perhaps, in time, He will help with other matters of anatomy - but for now, He takes your hand, and with a squeeze that could just as easily shatter stone like glass, moves his thumb along your skin, holding you like glass.

Simple matters of anatomy, where the bones in your hands can feel the bones in His. You only hope, in time, you know His anatomy just as well as He knows yours.

#Reader x Emperor of Mankind #Emperor of Mankind #Emperor of Mankind x Reader #fluff #suggestive #reader x character #Warhammer 40000 #WH40K

[wxnheart]

Привет🌻 У вас есть замечательная выдумка об Императоре и псайкере-чтеце. Это одна из моих любимых работ для всех фэндомов, и я часто ее перечитываю💖✨ Итак, можете ли вы написать что-то подобное? Может ли читатель возродиться во времена, предшествовавшие Ереси? Изменит ли это что-нибудь? Как отреагируют примархи?

𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐱 𝐏𝐬𝐲𝐤𝐞𝐫!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

I really wanted an excuse to use this GIF but anywho lmao.

You were born well before the Primarchs were even a twinkle in their father's eyes; people have tried to guess when to no avail but only you, Malcador, and the Emperor know.

He always said you were meant to be by his side. To date, you have yet to reveal the depths of his attachment to you. You've yet to tell even Malcador the lengths he went to acquire you. If only they knew of the destruction he left in his wake. And he hasn't let you go since. You were necessary. You were essential to his plans. You were his anchor. To what, you never could find out.

You were the hidden treasure, the "open" secret, guarded vigorously despite your capabilities. You've watched countless pledge their love and loyalty to the Emperor only to perish in the flames of his ambition. You've watched so many pass you by on the currents of time. Your heart could only harden so much to it, yet the Emperor assures you that it is all according to plan.

You remember the day you found out he had sons created, each meant to shine in the image of their father, each meant to guide Mankind to glory. You were suprised, doubly so because when did this happen? Did he not think of the last time he sought to defy nature? When you later found out they were scattered, one of the Emperor's greatest follies, you were beside yourself with... anger? You don't think you ever raged at the man so passionately in your long-lived life. He didn't even blink when you were done. He only reassured you. It made your blood run cold. Those children...

—Those men. You remember even clearer when he reclaimed them, just like he claimed you. Like prizes. Glittering trinkets. And they were men, now. Men of impressive stature and nature, men who had to adjust to a society that wouldn't even think about adjusting to them and you wondered how they would've turned out had you had a hand in their upbringings.

Just as they're enigmas to you, you're an enigma to them. You adjust according to their personality but some take to you more than others. Some like the favored son Horus are friendly but still wary while others tend to disregard you completely, too caught up in winning the Emperor's love and favor that they don't realize they're just as expendable as the rest. You wonder if Malcador mourns their fate as much as you do.

Despite the forlorn feelings, you try your best to help them adjust but it still wasn't enough. You tried your best to get the Emperor to acquiesce having seen things you weren't meant to see but all in due time.

And when the Heresy happened, the greatest of the Emperor's follies, you didn't rage like you could have. No. You had resigned yourself to your fate, resigned yourself to your forlorn thoughts because you figured you were just as expendable as the rest.

It should've come as no surprise, then, that you were the first to fall victim to the Emperor's Golden Embrace, and the Imperium would live on in his name still. All in due time.

You were necessary. You were essential to his plans. You were his anchor. And even in death did he still hold on to you... and you to him.

#request fill. #cutie 𝓠. #warhammer 40k #wh40crack. #emperor of mankind #emperor of mankind x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #yandere40k.

[2lim3rz]

Warhammer 30k Emperor x Reader is quite popular but think about 40k Emperor x Reader. Many have said how the emperor, despite claiming that he was a human and not a god, behaved so much like the latter. So consider him rising from his throne after so many centuries, weakened and well… horrifying. Did people really think he was going to return looking like a normal person? Because he didn’t. He of course still had his charming voice (though raspy after thousands of years of not using it) and his golden eyes. But it wasn’t as beautiful when paired with the body of a walking corpse.

At least that’s what you thought. Nobody else seemed to care, they gazed at him and praised him and welcomed their ruler into their lives. Nobody seemed to give a shit that he was 12 foot tall monster, wasn’t he exactly like the beasts and demons of heresy that the inquisition warned us about?? Why did your neighbours flock to him when he paraded around the streets, why did they grasp at his hands with awe (even when one of them was just bone), and why did he look towards your direction (how could you even know he looked at you? He was so far away and covered in so much fabric and jewellery), and why did you see him smile at you?

The beginning is a reference to a little thing I wrote eons ago! You can find it here! [ LINK ]

Some warnings: Mild description of a panic attack

He knows. He knows that you had seen his gaze even from so far away.. He knows that you felt the instant gut wrenching fear and worshipful mania all felt when in his physical presence.

Yet you know. Your sane mind knows he wasn't looking directly at you, surely. For he is the Emperor. The God Emperor and Risen Savior of Mankind. All quiver before him, even his one of his most beloved sons, Roboute Gulliman (oh how many stories have you heard of him?)

However your instincts truly have knowledge in what your mind is hoping isn't happening. The long pause in his parade. The staring. The flesh-not-flesh crinkling in a macabre smile before you ran.

Your dreams were nightmares of eldritch things. Of colors so unknown and unseen that everything was grey in them. Of swirling colors and shapes.. of things that did not act the way they should nor shouldn't function but did. Touches, sensations. Feelings that should not happen.. Before there was a flash of gold.. As if you were thrown into a vat of cold water. You could breath and when you awoken..

You could breath. You were alive. Your skin was on your flesh, your flesh was on your bones, and your bones were of biological what-nots instead of painful needles. You were you. You were alive. You were human..

You knew what the gold was. The flash of bone encased in undulating flesh as it tried to stretch over its framework. You knew the reason of why every breath you took it was a blessing.

So you walked. It did not matter that you were in your night clothes, that your feet were growing raw and blooded. You walked. It did not matter that the Palace was miles away and the journey was treacherous; you walked.

Only when day arose did you return home to cry. Why? You wondered. Why was the terrifying so heavily worshipped. Why was it hard to breath? Why were you so lightheaded?

These why's began to grow, to multiply. Becoming multitudes until you could do nothing in your tiny home (that did nothing but make you feel even smaller) but gasp for air.

The onslaught only stopped when you found yourself waking up. Neck hurting from the awkward way you had curled into the corner. Everything ached, everything hurt.

Yet you had to leave. You dressed hurriedly.

You threw what credits you had left. Tossing practically everything away to get yourself to a spot you could view him best.

And sure enough. After his grandiose speech (was the talks of taking the fight to the enemy always so daunting?), he turned his head (was.. it always so corpse-like?) and looked upon you (Were you always so.. small?)

You felt it. Felt him. Felt the presence of a god touching the mind of someone feeble. Akin to the touch so doubt an insect felt when it was grabbed by a human. Small. So small. Fragile.. too fragile. Miniscule. Nothing.

Go.

Was that your thoughts? You swore your instincts said to run away and scream. Yet you moved. You had too. For too long those nightmares plagued you; hurt you even.

So you moved. Onward and onward as if a servitor upon its track. Unwavering.

It took.. quite some time (was everything always so.. large?) until you found yourself frozen stiff. Until you found yourself looking up into the purest gold.

It was not warm, as the Emperor was always said to be in some cases. It was not forthcoming. It was nowhere near kind.

You realized then, that perhaps everything was a warning as you stared up from your knees. Practically breaking your back backwards to look up at him. Even as he stretched out his hands to encase yours and gently pull you up even if it felt as if ice was burning your skin away.

He is the God-Emperor of Mankind.

And he was not the savior you all hoped he would be.

#emperor of mankind #warhammer 40k #2lim3rz writes #emperor of mankind x reader #emperor x reader #x reader #reader insert #panic attack

[sculptorofcrimson]

Yandere! Valdor

Valdor, the most loyal, the greatest of the Custodes, a Primarch in all but name. Who else can obsess more than him, whose every function besides loyalty was beaten out? A/N: Playing “fucked up obsessive twinks” on easy mode here, aren’t I? I’m sorry, SCP-XXXX who requested this, but you told me Valdor was a twink, and evil twinks are the best kind of men, so therefore this is your fault! Full throttle ahead, let us be damned together! ψ(｀∇´)ψ

Relationships: Valdor/Gn!Reader, mentioned Valdor/Emperor Mentions: @kit-williams would you like some food?

Valdor does not love. 

The Custodes simply can not love. Their love perished beneath treachery and fire, ten thousand years ago, and they simply cannot piece the remnants that was a heart back together again. 

The Emperor took away their ability to love any but Himself, and what else could be left but a hollow void, an immortality without substances, a heart that beats while it lacks its other half? 

There was simply nothing left of him to spare when the Emperor had brought down his claws. His love, his joy, his dreams, all gone, wiped away like sand upon the sea. Leaving behind nothing more than a hollow without sustenance, a phantom vestige of a dream crushed long ago, its corpse entombed within perfected flesh and bone and blood. 

He loves no one, not even himself. When the Emperor died ten thousand years ago, he lost his way. He lost his tether to life itself. And for ten thousand years he wandered for the corpse of his master. There was a poem once, a poem so long ago about the loyal dog that stood guard before his master’s bones, who licked the once-petting hand once, and laid down to die. 

Valdor’s loyalty is no weaker than that dog’s.

He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves the Emperor. He loves Him, so brokenly, so obsessively, so utterly insane in his adoration, the First Custodian would have let Him tear him apart if He wished. 

He loved the Emperor. 

And that is why he loves you. He thinks you to be his Emperor. If not Him, then at least a shard.

He doesn’t care who you were, he doesn’t care whether you were once a captain, a Chapter Master, a Thunder Warrior even. He thinks you to be his master, back from the dead, one of His shards caught in life and flesh. 

He thinks you’re Him. Or, if not Him, at least a fragment of His former glory.

Valdor calls you his Emperor, his shard, his beloved, he ignores any name you had once in favor of calling you his master. A name is only a word, after all, and you are nothing but his Emperor reborn, in his mind. A guardsman, an Astarte, a Thunder Warrior, you are all mortal beneath his eyes. He only smiles that cold, humorless smile of his when you attempt to correct him, when he brushes off your words with the same cold, humorless disinterest. 

Valdor thinks you to be his Emperor. And he doesn't care that you were once someone else, you were not always his beloved, you were not the master he imagined, that you are not the master he built from memories and bones. 

You were nothing before his master, he reasons, you will be nothing after his master, and you were his Emperor once upon a time. It is doubtful if he can even know love, if he had not projected his own delusions of his Emperor upon another. Valdor failed Him once and only now the fates have judged him fit enough to protect a shard of Him, one that is so frail compared to himself, so unspeakably mortal, his atonement for the master he failed so long ago. 

He failed the Emperor once, and watched Him die. He will not do so again.

Protection. You will never walk free again, never without his cold presence by your side, that effortless, confident stride as he accompanies his master. You will never know the taste of sunlight, the easy voice of another conversationalist before their words taper off into uncertainty, and then fear, beneath the jealous glare of your bodyguard. How their sentences trail off, how Valdor looms like some ancient, murderous harpy, his shadow constantly overcasting yours.

He knows nothing of love, of human emotion. But he knows protection. And he knows obsession. 

Valdor is not a passionate man. But he is neither a cruel one either. Of course, Valdor will never raise a spear nor blade against his adoration, to strike his master would certainly mean death, but he will slaughter your loved ones without even horror. He will whisper litanies of loyalty on his knees while his Custodes sink in the knives. He will speak ironclad promises and gilded oaths when they label your soldiers traitors and slaughter them upon the snowfields, when they hail for unity, and hear the blade fall. 

He seems to like walks in wintery fields. It reminds him of what he lost long ago, when the Emperor took him atop Ararat, and he enacted His first vengeance upon the Thunder Warriors. He sometimes brings you there, to altitudes higher than even what a Space Marine can withstand, and gathers you beneath his cloak, whispering memories that were never truly yours, asking for your orders, asking for your forgiveness, asking if you can remember what it felt like ten thousand years ago.

(Sometimes, you can nearly believe him when he says you’re a shard. It’s flattering, almost, to be under the eye of the captain-general.)

He can kill. There is nothing left of him if he could not. Nothing but the Emperor’s spear, a sharpened tool meant to kill and to serve, and to be cast away when its function is complete. You have nothing to fear from him, of course, he would rather end himself than raise a blade against his master. But he loves no other. He does not know how to love. And that makes him dangerous. You know it when you gaze into his eyes, you are sure you could imagine him covered in the blood of your loved ones, guardian spear flashing as he hacks through them without even the shadow of hesitation. He will take no fear, no regret, no relief, barely even satisfaction in the grim act, and yet that is somehow more profane than joy in slaughter. Not even a single hint of joy, wild and unfettered in the sheer cruelty, not even a single hint of an ambition for why he would lay such altars of blood before his master’s feet, only simply because He wanted it to be so, and simply because he loved Him. 

In his eyes, you are his Emperor. But he does not always obey you. He does not kneel as he would’ve knelt before his master. Because he knows, Valdor knows that to protect Him, to serve Him properly, sometimes he must smother Him for His own good. It’s the twisted rationale of a dog who has lost his master, whose death had rocked him so thoroughly he was willing to kill to save Him again. 

Valdor kneels, of course. He’ll kneel before you and speak his words of loyalty, he’ll give you his names one by one if you only ask. Valdor has never considered himself eloquent with words, but he’ll listen to you, he’ll even let you command him as the Emperor would have done. Rank be damned, he cares not if his Emperor had been reborn as a guardsman or an Astartes or even a Thunder Warrior. 

But he does not hide his obsession. To obsess is the only way he knows to love, after all. He’ll smother his beloved with his protection, with his adoration. He’ll hack his way to be their only protector, their only bulwark before the madness, the only man they can trust to defend them. Gaze upon his Emperor once, he’ll tear them apart. Love the Emperor more than him, and he’ll bury their bones beneath the snowfields. 

And be loved by the Emperor more than him….and he’ll betray them as he had betrayed the Thunder Warriors. He’ll sink in golden knives and golden spears in turned backs without even the hint of remorse, Valdor will remind his beloved that it is he who is the servant, it is he who serves to be praised for his duty. Valdor can take you from your family as the Emperor took him from his, he’ll so effortlessly ensure the utter protection of his new Emperor, all for himself. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

It is he who should be the favored servant.

No one can love you more than I, my Emperor.

He’ll croon those litanies of loyalty to you. He’ll whisper those promises of protection, of ambition, he’ll promise you an eternity while standing atop the frozen ashes of your loved ones. He’ll promise you a throne if you don’t cry, if you’ll love him as his master did. He’ll bring you a crown of gold, he’ll strangle the living storm for you, if only you promise to let him protect you, if you promise if you’ll be his Emperor. 

You died once. I will not let you do so again, my Emperor.

And his obsession would never be checked, and much less ended by the true power behind the Imperium.

You are his Emperor. In that mind He broke so thoroughly long ago, you are the Emperor, reborn. Heavy is the head that bears the laurel, bloodied is the hand that holds this mad dog’s leash.

It is Valdor who should be the favored servant. 

No one will protect you more than I, my liege. 

He will protect you. 

He will protect you, obsess over you, guard you with the hollow that is a heart. He’ll bring you a throne, a crown, an army, an eternity, if only you promise, if only you’ll be his Emperor. 

The Emperor died ten thousand years ago. And in turn, he casted you in His corpse.

#valdor x emperor #constantin valdor #warhammer 40k #yandere valdor #valdor x reader #warhammer 40k x reader #custodes x reader #wh40k #reader insert #reader #sculptor of crimson #warhammer #adeptus custodes #wh40k writing prompts #emperor of mankind #mentions of Valdor being Valdor #which means he’s killing everyone’s family #as he deserves #god i love him so much #he just like me fr #for legal reasons #that was a joke #just drukhari things #writing drabble #drabble

[anoliverbranch]

I hope u like this

#Warhammer #warhammer x reader #warhammer 40k #warhammer 40k x reader #fulgrim x reader #the emperor of mankind x reader #primarch x reader

[aerkame]

Prwincess Wookong & The Dark Prince Macaroni

Everyone is having a great princess tea party until things go rogue. Hopefully you can save the day. (Slight Wukong and Macaque x reader)

A pile of books fell to the floor as a heeled shoe stomped onto the table. "As your princess, I demand a fair trial-no-I ORDER you to give me a fair trial!" Princess Wukong brushed down his messy fur with his hand, it was a mess from lack of care, all of these responsibilities as a princess really wore him down.

Placing his teacup down in confusion, MK spoke "I haven't even said anyth-" "Ah bup bup. Not a word from you traitor!" Wukong held his tail to MK's lips to keep him from speaking. "I trusted you as my loyal lady in waiting and here you are, framing me for the murder of my own scholar!" He pointed to a now 'dead' Tang who was lying on the floor slurping away at noodles. "I simply can not stand this heartbreak!" He fell to his knees dramatically, bringing his hands together in the shape of an imaginary knife as he hit his chest with it before falling off the table, bringing everything else with him down to the floor. Pigsy sighed, leaning further into the couch. They were going to have to clean that up later. He looked down at the small child they were babysitting, at least she was entertained enough to stay still and quiet.

Reflexively looking over to you, Wukong gave a wink before continuing his over-the-top acting.

"If...if only there was some brave and noble knight that could take me away from this terrible situation." He brought his hand to his forehead in a woeful display.

Laughter filled the living room as the little girl kicked her feet happily while you had to stop yourself from giggling to stay 'in character'. You stride over to kneel at Princess Wukong's side, holding his hand. "I am here my princess." You smiled down at him, giving the most heartfelt look you could muster. Beaming up at you he continued "Oh my, I must have been blessed by heaven itself to have such a beautiful knight at my side! Please fair knight, take me away from this situation!" You were about to answer when another presence made itself known.

Falling through a shadow behind you, The Dark Prince, Macaroni made himself known. "Not so fast my sweet knight." Your face grew hot as hands were upon your waist within seconds, pulling you away from the princess who was now fuming. "I, Dark Prince...Macaroni...can not let you ruin my plans!" Macaque didn't like the name, but everyone agreed to just go along with what the kid wanted. He twirled your body around to face the kid on the couch "Prepare yourself, for you must face my terrifying dragon if you want to save your princess!" Before anyone could say anything, a green dragon popped out from behind the couch to attack you, pelting you with it's deadly pillow breath, it's cardboard tail flailing around as it moved.

Observing the knight and dragon fighting, Macaque let the smallest of smiles grace his lips... which promptly disappeared when Princess Wukong gave him a small push with his tail, having gotten off the floor to stand near him.

"Oh. Hey 'Prwincess Wookong." Mimicking the way the kid talked, the dark-haired monkey gave a push back, ignoring the small glare aimed at him. Silence fell between the two as the rogue tea party continued on in the background. "I thought I made my intentions clear the other day." Wukong was first to break the silence. "And I never agreed to stop my pursuit." Macaque shot back. Stretching a bit as he picked up a stray pillow, he threw it onto the Monkey King's face chuckling...until it was thrown right back at him. "wha-Hey!"

Looking around the couch area, both you and Mei searched for more pillow ammunition but found none. You looked at MK and the others who were now seated by the TV for help, they pointed to the opposite side of the room where your gaze followed. The two celestial monkeys were now having their own pillow fight, wrestling on the floor once either of them ran out of something to throw. A stray pillow managed to knock off Wukong's plastic tiara, leaving the monkey man offended. "How dare you! That was my favorite tiara-" Another pillow nailed him in the face, cutting off his sentence. "That's your only tiara dumba-" Now it was Macaque's turn to be cut off with a pillow to the face, this time by you.

Sitting up, both monkeys calmed down enough to face you. Wukong stood up to embrace you, nuzzling his face into your side. "Oh my dear knight you have to save me from this terrible, evil, man! I simply can not bare to have my feelings tortured like this!" Before you could answer, another more rougher hand grabbed yours, pulling you into a close hug. Kneeling down in front of you, Macaque smirked at the princess's glare. "Sweet knight, you have bested my dragon and landed a daring hit on me. Truly, no one greater or better suited than you exists to stay by my side. So will you do me the honor of becoming my future queen?" The room went silent, Wukong went ape mode.

#Lady Bone Demon forced me to write this #Imagine Wukong wearing high heels and a princess dress #this is canon in another universe to me #No beta we die like The God Emperor of Mankind #monkey king #six eared macaque #I used up all my braincells today writing this #Princess Wukong #Dark Prince Macaque #crack fic #shrek x reader #lmk #lego monkie kid #sun wukong #lmk macaque #lego monkie kid mk #lmk mei #lmk pigsy #lmk tang #lmk redson #lmk monkey king x reader #sun wukong x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lego monkie kid sun wukong #lego monkie kid monkey king x reader #lmk macaque x reader #macaque x reader #lmk six eared macaque x reader #monkey king x reader

[bleedingichorhearts]

𝕯𝖎𝖛𝖎𝖓𝖊 𝕲𝖆𝖑𝖆𝖝𝖞

𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗: Had this type of scenario going around in my head.

𝕿𝖆𝖌𝖌𝖊𝖉: @kit-williams, @egrets-not-regrets, both advise me if not wanting to be tagged here. I don’t remember.😭

𝕬𝖈𝖐𝖓𝖔𝖜𝖑𝖊𝖉𝖌𝖊: I’m new to this lore, and learning on my way of writing this. I think I just have some basics down. This is also not a… logical story. This, in no way, fits into the Warhammer 30k or 40k universe. This is purely just for enjoyment. Not proofread.

The Suberb Cathedral of Cologne | Their structures look like this right?

TW // None, I think.

To discover a new dimension was… interesting to say the least.

The new dimension. The new world was- is structurally prettier than our modern world. They have built grand structures that would have “The Suberb Cathedral of Cologne” be minuscule next to them. Their structures much stronger, taller, and wider. Covering acres of the land. The land they called “Terra.”

Which was a similar name to “Earth.” Just in Latin, in our world. A similar planet too, that was just more… advanced and polluted than anything. They also called their moon “Luna.” Which was named almost as regular as anything else besides the hulking, men in armor.

Those were interesting beings. They were taller, enhanced, and thickly armored human beings that called themselves “The Adeptus Astartes.” Or in other words a “Space Marine.”

The “Adeptus Custodes” were the first ones I've met. It wasn’t a peaceful meeting either. How could it be? I was sent through an unbelievable portal, not expecting to visit some huge, gold ridden throne room. I'm sure they weren't expecting it as well with how their spear-like weapons surrounded the two people I came in with like a flash. Their towering golden armor casting a shadow over every form. Leaving no chance to escape.

Not like anyone could. It was clear of how much power these Custodes held just by looking at them. Feeling how the area shifted with a more dangerous one, and one of the stupid people tested that theory, booking it when they thought they had an chance, but got quickly picked up by the collar of their shirt like a kicked puppy. It didn’t even look like an effort was made to do so. The Custodes just seemed more annoyed than anything.

Furthermore, for one of those reasons. These Custodes moved, more like shoved the whole group into a cell block so far down into the structure that it had the other person whining about how their feet hurt.

The custodes didn’t say nothing while they closed us into a cell. Putting “The ShadowKeeper” on duty to watch the cell. Which I think is a specific type of Custodes for this job. Concluding how the guy just stood there up for hours and had to listen to the many, many, many complaints of the two people in the cell with me. I don’t even know all of the people well, except for the girl.

She was someone I was quietly extracting from point A to point B. Nothing hard to do besides her constant whining and her “heroic” boyfriend that was trying saving her from me. I honestly was about to put a bullet in the guy's head for disrupting my work until that portal showed up, throwing all of us in there. I might have done her father something good for doing so though. She was not allowed to be around “men” at all anyways. It was stated in the contract.

Though, I was lucky enough that I was not fully dressed up in gear to be presented to this new world that could have been more hostile for all I know. Could have sliced me into two right there in that thrown room in seconds if I had my gear on, but they didn’t and I don’t know if that was the better alternative or not, but it usually wasn’t.

Nevertheless, the days in that cell passed like a dream where the only parts you got were the unimportant ones. The whiny duo wouldn’t stop begging at the Shadowkeeper to let them out, or at least give them a shrivel of attention. The boyfriend of the girl wouldn’t stop trying to fight me, and the two would eat the food given to us by Custodes that I wouldn’t dare to eat, and still wouldn't dare to eat after the other two scavenged my serving like they hadn't eaten the day before. Something the ShadowKeeper notified his superiors about. I know they did, it was a warden's job.

That’s how the cell was visited by their leader, this man, this deity? I not to sure what he was, but his golden eyes swept across the cell, scanning it before landing on my own figure sitting crisscrossed on the stone cold cell floor, his eyes never once leave my own. His towering form overthrowing the Custodies with amazing ease. It left the other two in the cell shocked, just how big was everything in this world?

It was almost freakish in a way. His intimidating gaze felt like a heatwave to be underneath. Pulsing into my skin to see the sins beneath. To boil me alive from inside and out. It was wired. Never was there ever a person to feel like they were crawling under my skin, but this wasn’t a person was it? This man…thing was something else.

When he spoke, he sounded calm, and gravelly, but judging how the other two looked like they swooned over him, like he spoke honeyed words to them, I couldn’t be so sure of that. Were they hearing something different than I was?

Sudden whispers attacked my hearing as I looked away from the… man. Seeing the portal was summoned from out of nowhere. It's swirling vortex calling me in. The relief of not having to look at the intimating man coming off my shoulders.

Standing up from the floor, I looked back at the man dawned in gold for a second more. Questioning if it was he that controlled these portals or not. It wouldn't be unusual for a man in his stature to do something impossible like that considering that he was about the size of a two story building.

I’d expect them to rush into the cell and try to deprive me of going back to wherever this portal might take me, but they didn’t, they held back. The man’s golden gauntlet stoping the Shadowkeeper from proceeding any further. Does this mean he knows something I don’t?

Perhaps, he knew that I would come back again. Not purposely, of course.

It was almost nearly undeniable to reject the portal. It whispers to you, it’s unintelligible words calling you in like some sort of chant. Even if you did reject its whispers, it would forcefully pull you through by an unknown force.

That happened on my umpteenth time coming back to the world. I was too busy trying to get stuff done within my world, I got sucked into the portal.

Moreover, within these questionable timings of the portal. It became a regular thing in their world as the portal put me in the same place before, the throne room. There was always an Custodes posted there to await my untimely arrival. Ready to escort me throughout the maze of the structure, or if ordered, to my own “personal quarters.”

That wasn’t something I particularly liked at first.

Sure, it was nice to have a personal bodyguard. To have my own luxurious room decorated with softest, silkiest sheets I have ever touched in my life, but it wasn’t what I was used to. It wasn’t my lifestyle. It was different, unfathomable; shouldn’t be happening.

Non of this should be happening.

I shouldn’t be in the world of gods, and demigods. I shouldn’t be even meeting with them sharing the same ground as them and it wasn’t out of their divinity, but it was because I don’t belong here. This wasn’t my world. It wasn’t my universe.

This whole thing… just wasn’t right, but who to say anything to practical gods? Who’s to say anything against a cursed portal?

Not that “heroic” boyfriend. His blood stains the ground of the cell for… talking too much.

#warhammer 40k #fanfiction #x reader #reader insert #snippet #introduction #Yandere? Yandere. #the emperor of mankind #adeptus custodes #and more

[whatdoyoumeanitsnotcanon]

You met him once while you were alive.

He was kind, smiled at you and thanked you for bringing him tea.

That was the first and last you met in life.

Time passed. You both died. You of old age.

Him by his father's blade.

You met in the warp. Or rather, you and a fragment of his psyche. The only thing left after the Chaos Gods took their foul gifts back.

He wept, and only had you to comfort him.

Millenia passed, the two of you hiding in your oddly stable section of the warp. Swapping stories of your lives, happier times. Sadder times. Experimenting with your new forms in this strange place. Tasting food and drinks you never could in your old lives. Doing things you never could. Seeing. Hearing.

And when the time came, feeling.

"I love you," Horus murmured. "I do I really- hm."

You silenced him with a kiss. "I love you too." You murmured to him.

It was not long after that you discussed marriage. For no reason other than to experience another thing you could not in life. You even found a priest, one horribly scarred by burns, but a priest nonetheless.

The two of you summoned an altar, clasped hands and stared into one another's eyes. For an instant you could see the great wedding Horus wished for you. Had he known of your existence sooner. Had he not doomed you both by his actions. Had he-

(Insert Emps crashing the wedding here. The priest is Uriah.)

The Emperor crashing the wedding TTS style. "Yey."

An awkward silence ensues.

Big Daddy E:

#warhammer 40k #horus lupercal #Fucking Horus™ #wh40crack. #emperor of mankind #Fucking Horus™ x reader

[queers-gambit]

Save Me From Myself

prompt: ( requested ) in a moment of unparalleled anger, you learn what Joel really thinks of you.

pairing: Joel Miller x female!reader

fandom masterlist: The Last of Us

word count: (short as hell at) 1.9k+

warnings: very mild spoilers, there's probably cursing, oneshot (no part two), hurt no comfort, mild angst, shorty shorty short short shorty! author is disappointed in this one, she wanted to give much more.

browse Clingy Baby collection masterlist here

"Gimme that," you grunted at Ellie, picking her backpack from her shoulder with ease as the shorter young lady protested with a small growl.

"I got it - "

"Take a break," you smiled at the kid, shouldering her pack. "Tell me another one of those shitty jokes you love so much."

Ellie smirked and whipped out her book, flipping through a few pages, scanning the pages, then deciding on one. "What... Is Beethoven's favorite fruit?"

You shrugged, "No idea."

"Ba-na-na-naaaaa!"

You laughed, you couldn't help it. "Goddamnit. That's a good one," you praised, eyeing her for a moment as she silently read down the page. You wondered, "You know, I meant to ask, but why that book in particular?"

"My friend gave it to me... It was a present," she explained softly, seeing your head nod of understanding. "What did one ocean say to the other?"

"Nothing, they just waved," you smirked.

"You shithead," she tisked. "Okay, okay, here's a good one. What's brown... And sticky?"

"Oh, Ellie, don't be gross - "

"A stick."

There was a long pause.

"Oh, you know what? Fuck you," You laughed heartily. "I gotta remember that, I like that one."

"You'll like this one, too. Why should you never trust stairs?"

You knew the answer, but humored her, "Why?"

"Because they're always up to something."

You chuckled, "Good one, kid, yeah. Okay, okay, wait, I got one."

"Lay it on me."

"How do you cut a Roman Emperors hair?"

"How?" She grinned, ready for the punchline.

"With Caesars."

Ellie paused, offering a confused look, "I don't get that one."

You both stared at one another for a long moment, still walking through the cold, dead field.

"You don't know Julius Caesar?"

"No? Who the hell is that?"

You chuckled, "You know what? Just as well, who fucking cares about the Roman Empire when we're living in the end-of-days?"

"It's a decent joke," Joel spoke for the first time in hours; holding his rifle protectively as he lead you both through the wilderness, "for what it's worth."

You smirked at Ellie and teased, "Told you I was funny."

"You used the term punny."

"Both are accurate."

"I think you're just an idiot."

"I think you've got a helluva mouth on you."

Ellie grinned and flipped through her book, your gaze trailing to Joel and eyeing him for a long moment. You've known him since you were 19 and hired to babysit his daughter, Sarah. Joel was everything you could've asked for - loyal, sweet, protective, respectful. You had been at their house, doing coursework for your university program when the Outbreak happened. You did what you could to help protect Sarah, but in the end, nobody was safe, nobody was immune, and Death stretch His hand unto all of mankind alike.

He left only select few, you, Joel, and Tommy being amongst the survivors.

The past twenty years had been anything but easy, and while you had gone into this pandemic together, you and Joel didn't actually stick together the whole time. When you settled in Boston with Tommy, Tess, and a few other nomads, you were exhausted from the brutality you were forced to survive in, and so, first chance you had, you broke away.

Technically, you and Tommy broke away. But still.

Joel turned to a life of shadiness with Tess at his right hand (and on his cock). The two of you becoming estranged, until he saved your ass from a pair of FEDRA agents harassing citizens.

He didn't just distract your assailants, but put them in the dirt, helped pick you up, dust off, check for injury, then escort you home. Once at your apartment, he ensured you weren't hurt and was truly okay, and after that, he was back in your life - like the snap of fingers.

You hated to admit it, but it felt nice having a constant back in your life. Joel was your tether to reality, and without him, you felt akin to a kite with the string cut - useless and drifting away.

After that, you came around a little more to see how much your old neighbor had changed in your time apart. Joel was familiar, he was family; had always been something of a source of peace for you. He was usually protective of your wellbeing - even if he had a strange (and borderline unhealthy) way of showing it - creating a bubble of safety.

You eventually left the Fireflies and met Bill and Frank, venturing out and about with Joel and Tess; the latter of who simply despised you for just existing. She was never fond of you, more so now that Joel was obviously attached to you.

Joel never let her argue about you; he never cared for her opinion nor what assumptions she had. He kept you close, he liked your close; and if she sneered any hateful slander, Joel was swift to push her away in favor of you.

One time, he even literally locked her out of the apartment because she was rude to you and told you to "get lost!".

How could you not feel safe? Comfortable? Secure?

When you made it to Jackson and found Tommy once more, you were overjoyed by his familiar face and scent, but quickly pulled him aside to voice your concern for Joel.

"He's been clutching his chest, walking slower than I've seen before," you whispered to Tommy. "I don't think he's havin' a heart episode, but somethin' ain't right, Tommy. He's not doing the best."

"I'll talk to him," he assured.

You believed him, there was no reason not to. You (willfully blindly) believed Tommy would go about this subject with sensitivity and wouldn't mention your words of concern, but you were wrong. Very wrong. Joel had a known temper and if he caught wind that you spoke his name, even in passing, he would lash out, so, truly, you thought Tommy wouldn't tip Joel off.

The moment you returned "home" (to the house you, Ellie, and Joel were offered), you were met with a fuming Joel and an awkward looking Ellie. "What's going on?" You felt worried, fearing for the worst, asking, "What's wrong?"

"You," Joel snapped. "You're what's wrong."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Joel," Ellie tried with a frown, "she just walked in 0 "

"You had a word with Tommy now, did'yah?" He demanded, ignoring Ellie to focus his glare fully on you.

"Well - yeah - I mean - "

"No," he seethed with narrowed eyes and furrowed brow, "where the hell you get off talkin' to my brother like that? Huh? You worried 'bout me, you say somethin' to me - otherwise, the hell you talkin' for?"

"Joel - "

"You overstepped," he shook his head and pointed a scolding finger at you, "and my health ain't your concern - "

"Of course, it is! Fuck's sake, how can you even say that? I get you're mad, fine, okay, you know what? I get it, I'm sorry if I overstepped by telling Tommy how worried I am, but for the love of God, Joel, I am worried about you because you're not the same man you once were!"

"Are any of us?" He huffed.

"You don't think we've noticed the way you've slowed? How you clutch your chest? I'm allowed to be worried - "

"You know, if you weren't so Goddamn clingy all the time, you wouldn't feel whatever compulsion this is to concern yourself with something that ain't got shit to do with you."

You blinked in shock, feeling disarmed by the harsh tone and bruising words he offered. "Joel, we're both worried about you,," Ellie stepped in again. "Don't be such a dick, she's just looking out for you."

"By involving those that don't need to be involved?" He sneered, glaring at the girl before rounding on you. "From now on, you stay in your place - enough with this - this fucking - this protector bullshit you think of me as. You cling any fucking tighter and I'll suffocate, so back the hell off."

You nodded slowly, watching him storm off; door slamming after him hard enough to make both you and Ellie flinch. "I, uh..." You cleared your throat, "I should... Um, uh, you know what, I'll jusy - uh, yeah, no, I can just... Yeah, I should - yeah."

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

"You didn't do anything."

"No, but that wasn't very nice of him to say."

"No, I suppose not," you smiled ruefully, giving a hearty, heavy sniffle. "I should, you know, go and find somewhere to crash - "

"Why wouldn't you stay here?"

"I don't exactly like to linger where I'm not wanted," you mused, keeping your tears at bay. "I just need to clear my head for a bit. Go for a walk or something. Maybe he just needs some space, I don't want to be here and upset him more... You two have a mission at hand," you tried to smile, "that's bigger than us all, and whether I see the end of it or not doesn't matter now - what matters is you, Ellie. This petty squabble will pass," you lied, "because you're all that matters. I won't risk further upsetting Joel, gambling with this already sketchy-ass plan and put everything we've worked towards so far at jeopardy."

You both smiled ruefully.

"I know when to walk away," you ended softly.

She nodded, opening her mouth but closing it instantly; knowing you were stubborn enough that she didn't even attempt to stop you. So, she did the only thing she knew she could do: offered her joke book.

"Oh, Ellie, no," you breathed, "no, no, I can't take that, it was a gift."

"And now I'm gifting it to you," she shrugged, holding the book out. "C'mon, just take it, it'll make me feel good knowing you're cracking shitty jokes to yourself - or whoever will listen."

"I can't take this," you whispered.

"Just make sure you stay alive to give it back," Ellie compromised.

"Deal," you smirked, opening your arms and embracing the girl the moment she rushed into your chest. "I'll miss you," you whispered. You promised to see her as soon as you could (so you could return the joke, of course), kissed her forehead, then grabbed your bag, which had yet to be unpacked, and left the house.

You managed to find lodging in the old cantina, and you'd never know that when Joel got back that evening and saw your items gone, he breathed a sigh of relief. In his head, with you gone, it was one less painful reminder of Sarah, the life he had before; and while his mind played tricks into thinking he saw Sarah in town today, he realized you were the constant trigger.

The single strand that kept him in the past.

Constant reminder of who he was, who he wanted to be.

Prevented him from truly moving on.

Though not done in the best or most respectful way, in his heart, Joel knew he needed to shove you into the mud to get you to let go; you saw too much "good" in him. You saw him in the same light as Sarah, and he couldn't handle that; could not fathom that there was anyone left in this world who saw anything remotely humane in him.

So, Joel did what he did best: made his own life infinitely harder by pushing away those who loved him.

requesting rules and masterlist

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#joel miller #joel miller tlou #joel tlou #tlou joel #joel the last of us #the last of us joel #tlou joel miller #joel miller x reader #joel miller imagine #joel miller fic #joel miller x you #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller angst #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller x female reader #joel miller x fem!reader #the last of us #the last of us hbo #the last of us x reader #the last of us fanfiction #hbo the last of us #tlou fanfiction #tlou #tlou hbo #tlou x reader #tlou x you

[his-dedicated-sensei]

In Vino Veritas.

Meals, wines, and fragility.

It's a quiet evening. You're not too sure the day, but that doesn't trouble you much. You rest, as you usually do, upon a chair built just for you - tailored to your shape, crafted exquisitely from the luxuries accrued from the reunification. Your hand idly traces the edge of the cushioned armrests and where the lavish, lacquered mahogany meet in a masterwork of carpentry and joinery.

You wager two Custodians were the craftsmen, given how eloquent and regal the design is. You gaze upon the vaunted ceilings - the countless support beams, holding this place, your home, intact.

A plate rests in front of you before long. Marble, you wager - perhaps porcelain? The Custodian by your side seems eager to serve your food in particular. Your mind briefly ponders if the Blood Games are on. You aren't ever really apart of them, but you have promised to play as the kidnapped victim from time to time.

You see Him enter, coming to rest by your side. It takes Him a moment to settle - to take in the scent of the food, to rest His hand over yours.

"Do you like it," He starts, the voice rolling over your body like a wave breaking across rocks, "the selection for the evening?" His gaze is to the meal but a moment (you feel He is grading it silently), before turning to gaze at you.

"Every meal is delectable," you respond softly, smiling (it's impossible not to), before He carefully pours the wine into your glass. It's red, a deep red. Fulgrim's selection? He raises the glass to you, and you take in the rich bouquet. Definitely Fulgrim's, you wager, as your hands slide in His.

This must be the galaxy to Him, as your hand overlaps His own, twigs compared to logs - the fragility of your hand, and the brittleness of the wine glass, held in the way an artist would hold the finest brush. Humanity in His hands, humanity as the fragile glass that holds blood-like-wine. You take a moment, as He helps you drink it. It's supple, spiced... yet, a moment more, and you feel the complexity rush across your throat, changing to something more... elegant.

"A vintage," the Custodian besides you states, "to pair with the roast." It takes you a moment as the alcohol warms your form, as He moves to sip from the same glass. You wonder, briefly, if He did so to taste your lips indirectly, or wished to try the wine in the same environment.

"It should be chilled more," He finally responds - though you can see the faint smirk curling His lips. "An excellent choice, however."

Soon, His plate rests before Him. How much more He must need, yet, He eats as carefully as He commands. You, in turn, require so little, yet, all of it is important. One could be picky with food, push aside greens, or ignore the wine. He, however, has made sure the meals are properly prepared for you, to the exact amounts, to ensure you would be cared for.

You gaze at the wine a moment as your fork rests. How fragile were you, even surrounded by walls and buttresses and pillars and warriors and He Himself?

You did not think long, as His hand rests atop yours. "You are safe." He assures. "Safe, here. Safe no matter where you travel." Your fragility was tested then, as His hand gently squeezed yours, feeling the warmth of His skin. Nothing broken. Nothing damaged. Just... a moment where you finally relaxed, your head resting upon His shoulder, as you took the wine glass in your hands.

In wine, there is truth. You were fragile, yes - but deserving of the love and protection He cushioned you with - nay, strengthened you with. All of humanity, you wagered, would one day find this peace. It was a hope you shared with Him.

If only the wine wasn't so strong - you laugh after a moment, and He shares it with you, as the evening light fades, and the fragility He has is cushioned by your love.

#emperor of mankind #Emperor x Reader #Reader x Emperor #warhammer 40000 #wh40k #fluff #romance

[wxnheart]

𝙰𝚙𝚎𝚡 𝙿𝚛𝚎𝚍𝚊𝚝𝚘𝚛 - 𝐄𝐦𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐨𝐫 𝐨𝐟 𝐌𝐚𝐧𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐝/𝐏𝐫𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐡 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫 (𝟐/𝟑)

Your shoes and clothes are stained red with the blood of the fallen, all who fought valiantly in the name of the Imperium; so-called sons, expendable, pathetic, weak. Failures. Would they have had but a tenth of the talent of his brothers and sisters. Would they have had but a tenth of your courage. It was a futile effort but still, you stand strong in the face of his fearsome rage, one he had so desperately wished to quell. It was a rage that would be your undoing. It was a rage borne from your rejection. You dare say no to him? AGAIN?! In favor of that tyrant you call the Emperor?! You will know true strength... and you will die in its embrace.

Angron

It seems there is no end to the corruption, greed, and ineptitude that plagues the Imperium. Once he could look at it proudly but now... what a shell of its former glory. The loneliness and emptiness plague him, battling side by side with duty. He would rather it and everything it represented burned in the fires of Horus' ambition but dutybound he was and dutybound he would remain. He sees in you the idealism of ten millennia past, something that beloved Konor would've commended. He sees in you a kindred spirit, and he is lonely. Oh, how he's so lonely. But dutybound he is. And dutybound he will remain. And so, too, will you. Right by his side.

Roboute Guilliman

And with his father's parting words has an illustrious age ended, leaving his foundation shaken. Vengeful. The bitter bile rises in his throat. He would have said more, would have demonstrated the depths of his ardor. Perhaps things would be different, perhaps the bitterness wouldn't have consumed him so. But they aren't, and it does. Many things have been lost to him. It cannot be you, too. And most certainly not to him. He prepares to fight to the death. His foundation—your salvation—will be restored.

Rogal Dorn

He was a believer once. Of his Father, an ideal he strove to impart to the masses, he was a believer once. Words adorned with praise, extolling the virtues of Man and he was to be His messenger, oh, how he was a believer once. And even then, to the moment his greatest glory died a fiery death before him did he he believe, truly believe in the Father. And now in fire and brimstone does the Son pay for sins of the Father, sins that taste like brokenness, foolishness, and reverence against your lips. He believes again. In you. And so begins the fall of Man.

Lorgar Aurelian

You are important to his brother. This he knows unequivocally. To have the upper hand in a time of such upheaval and witness the Praetorian fall at last? Glorious. Finally, he would be vindicated. Much has been taken from him; much has been owed to him, and finally—FINALLY—he would have something to call his own and rightfully claim the spoils of war: you. And if he could not have you, Dorn most certainly couldn't, either.

Perturabo

It is said that only in death does duty end, but yours is everlasting. For a thousand lifetimes, He has loved and for a thousand more lifetimes He loves still. You have felt the weight of each and every one of them, and no matter how many times you've run, there He was to find and love you still. Shackled. You have become shackled to Him, an ornate chain that no matter how hard you pull cannot be broken. No matter the circumstances, it remains intact. It is said that only in death does duty end, but yours is everlasting. And when He spoke his last and transcended, with you made to go with him, did you realize that your duty had truly just begun. And even in death would He love you still.

The Emperor of Mankind

#cutie 𝓠. #warhammer 40k #angron #roboute guilliman #lorgar aurelian #rogal dorn #perturabo #the emperor of mankind #primarch #primarch x reader #emperor of mankind x reader #wh40crack. #yandere40k. #these were the templates i'd written that became the basis for yandere40k.

[2lim3rz]

hy i saw a somewhat old post of yours about yandere 40k while i was going through the emperor of manking tag, if it's not too much hassle, i have an idea and i would like to shre it, basically is the idea of the empror raising from the golden throne and going full yandere for the only baseline human citizen of the imperium that doesn't believe he is a god and i would like to ask what kind of hell this citzen would suffer because of that.

Y'all're just big fans of yandere 40k, huh? But hmm

Well I'll give some pros and cons of this:

PROS:

Well, congrats you can literally have every comfort you ever wanted in your life

It's a GOD thing, seriously I- Bro you have any idea what could happen between the two of you? A lot. That's the answer

No one but honestly Chaos itself could mess with you because let's face it, you're the most protected thing

Congrats on your mandatory faith meetings!! And conversion!

CONS:

You're fucked.

I- I can't emphasize this, you're just fucked

The Emperor has lost what little about himself he had in the 30th millinium, you're- Dude. D-Dude. He's really not beyond just taking your mind, shattering it into little bits until YOU are his perfect prize

Magically escape? Congrats. The entire Imperium of Man will capture you again and take you back

GOOD LUCK Turning to Chaos for safety and help, you're going to get mega-tortured because you were the Emperor's plaything

#emperor of mankind #warhammer 40k #emperor of mankind x reader #x reader #50 shades of youre screwed #volatile hearts au #vha

[sculptorofcrimson]

Valdor(NSFW edition) + Yandere

Valdor x Gn!Emperor Shard (or rather, if Valdor assumes they're an Emperor shard.)

I bring MORE brainrot! My thoughts on nsfw Valdor, some yandere parts!

@kit-williams I bring another carcass to feast.

He's gentle. So damnably gentle. He would never raise a hand nor claw against his master. Unless his beloved is a Thunder Warrior or particularly hardy Astartes, he refuses to engage in penetrative sex at all, without far too much preparation, even for a Custodes.

He’s gentle. He doesn’t press. He doesn’t insist. It’s only a physical exertion for him, after all. 

The Emperor made it so that he would never speak against Him. Instead, He put his tongue to better use. Have you ever been eaten out/sucked off by a Custodes while reigning on a throne, as he purrs, pleasantly swallowing cum with that same, obsessive loyalty, gazing up with nothing but worship, thanking his beloved reborn Emperor for accepting him? 

Valdor insists on calling his beloved his Emperor. He calls them his master, his liege, his lord. His Emperor shard. He’ll use no other name. He’ll accept no other name, that broken mind of him will accept nothing else. 

Laurels. He loves laurels. Or rather, he loves what they once meant, he loves the Emperor that wore the crown. Valdor will insist his beloved relive these memories with him, even if the memories were never theirs to begin with.

Only a servant. Only a servant, and nothing more. He obeys. Whatever his beloved wants from him, he obeys. He’ll listen to any command, no matter how degrading it may be for him. But never to hurt them. Never. Valdor would never hurt his master, of course.  

Thrones. Thrones and worship. He loves to kneel. If there is any place he prefers, it’s upon a Throne, worshipping the body of his reborn Emperor. 

Top or bottom? Valdor does not care. He’ll be whatever the Emperor demands of him. He could be used as a cocksleeve and cast aside, and he’d still thank Him for the treatment.

He doesn’t feel arousal the same way a human might. For him, it’s simply a physical exertion. Even sensations are different, they’re…more dulled. Less sharp, less primal, less human for him. He derives no pleasure from pleasure itself, he only derives pleasure from pleasuring another. Valdor’s a servant. He exists to be used. 

Valdor doesn’t feel pleasure the same way a human might. He doesn't pleasure himself. The only sensations he understands are only satisfaction, and failure. He cannot fail. He will not fail his master. He exists to serve, to please and to satisfy. He takes no pleasure in anything, he finds no satisfaction except in seeing the exultation in his master’s eyes.

Valdor doesn’t care, so long as it pleases his master. He himself doesn’t need to be pleased. He loves no one, not even himself. But he loves Him. He finds pleasure in His pleasure, simple as that. 

An Astartes, a Sister, a guardsman, it doesn’t matter. He finds pleasure when the Astartes that was the Emperor reborn gasps as he comes in his mouth, as hands skate across his neural interfaces, holding him close, the Custodian purring around the cock in his mouth, lapping at the warm fluid dripping across his immaculate features. He finds pleasure when she cries out, the Sister of Battle who had been so ready to believe she was the incarnation of the Emperor, when she pumps her hips into his face and he lets himself be ridden. Valdor finds pleasure when he is kneeling, grinding up against the pressure upon his hips, feeling the slide of skin against his, feeling his newest version of his master pleasure themselves with his body, coming apart in his arms. It’s not truly the physical sensations, of course, such primal instincts have been lost to him. But it's servitude. It’s his duty, his obsession, of doing well that brings him joy. 

Finally, it’s not precisely masochism, this obsession with pain he has. But pain doesn’t deter him. It is only a sensation, after all, and a sensation Valdor has learned to associate with his duty being accomplished, with hurling himself in front of blows meant for his Emperor, as is the duty of a bodyguard. He’ll let himself be hurt in bed, without even the shadow of hesitation. It hurts, and so what? What if he enjoys it? What if he enjoys hurting, by his master’s hand? What if he enjoys being reminded he’s nothing more than a dog licking the boots of his master? What if, in some broken part of him the Emperor ripped apart so long ago, he likes the degradation?

Yandere

Sex. It’s one more chain to add. One more chain to keep them close to him, to make sure they can never leave. Won’t they love him? Won’t they love him through these expressions of love and adoration, the meaning of emotion and connections lost to him, but the act itself still remains? Valdor may not understand why such bonds are formed from what is - to him at least - nothing more than an exercise, but it’s a weapon, it’s a spear he can wield to drag them back and chain them to him, to chain his beloved down and make sure they can never leave.

In his hands, it’s a weapon.

~~~

Valdor would stand there, so easy with his dancer’s grace, poised like a perfect ballerina, body all lean muscle and elegance hidden beneath silk, waiting only for a command.

There is no arrogance in his voice, sonorous, confident, and heartless. No fear, no emotion, simply sheer, unrelenting duty. He was always a cold, cold man, but he is also a beautiful one, as graceful as a killer in the night. 

He’ll strip if commanded to. He’ll fuck himself with any array of instruments if commanded to. He’ll set himself ablaze and slaughter your enemies and feed their carcasses to eagles, had he been commanded to.

All he waits, is a single word.

Slowly, without hesitation at all, a cold smile spreads across his lean features. His silk robes rustle as he advances, and slides into a kneel, bowing his head before you. The silk pools across his muscled limbs, hanging around his waist and torso. He holds himself with a ballerina’s grace. 

“Your commands, my master.”

#warhammer 40k #wh40k #sculptor of crimson #warhammer #constantin valdor #adeptus custodes #warhammer x reader #adeptus custodes x reader #emperor of mankind #valdor x emperor #valdor x reader #mentions of #light masochism #light degradation #master x servant #yandere valdor #male yandere

[the-fiction-witch]

Pendragon

MOVIE THE LAST LEGION COUPLE ROMULUS X READER RATING ADORABLE!

I sat on the small wooden chair close to the similarly made wooden table, with its red embroidered runner over it and a bowl of apples from the local orchard. My knife in my hand several others of various sizes laid out on the table as I worked on this. "Daddy?" Sammia smiled as she sat on the floor by my feet in her little brown dress, her sweet blonde hair up in a long braid wrapping twice around her head her small peg dolly in her hands 

"Ummm?" I asked deep in my concentration

"Would you tell a story?"

"A story?" I smiled "alright" I laughed, putting my work down and offering my arm. She happily jumped up into my arms so I picked her up and sat her on my leg letting her lay on my shoulder. "What kind of story?" 

"A big epic story!" She giggled

"Alright, I know a big epic story" I laughed " go get your brother and I'll tell it" I told her so she happily ran off outside frenching her brother who had been outside… I don't know what he was doing, fighting imaginary dragons most likely, he did seem to like playing that. They both ran in excitedly sitting on the floor with their toys "alright, it began on a dark and stormy night" 

"Ooooooooohhh" they both smiled 

'a dark and evil storm raged over britannia, and in a small village worked a master blacksmith. People would come from all corners of the earth to seek his works and skills. He was the most masterful blacksmith in all the world. And as he closed up his little shop for the night he looked up at the stormy sky. And to his surprise he saw a bright shocking light!' 

"A DRAGON!" Arthur yelled

"No Arthur." I chuckled 'he saw this bright shocking light falling from the heavens. A star had fallen to the earth crashing into the earth Infront of his shop. He saw what this star was made of and knew using his skills he could form it into the greatest weapon known to mankind. So he took it into his shop he worked it over for four days and four nights without a moment's rest to even drink and when he was finished the legendary sword was born. When a coven of witches and warlocks who had been tracking the stars path in order to try and hardness its potential magical powers they saw what the master blacksmith had done and they betrothed apron the sword a legend and a profercy.'

"Daddy? What's a warlock?" Sammia asked

"A boy witch darling. Or other magical man"

"Oh" she nodded 

"So, they gave the sword a profercy. One edge to defend. One to defeat in fair britannia was I forged to fit the hand that is destined to rule. So of course every man and his mother began to fight over the sword believed they were the ones the sword was meant for but knowone ever was. When Rome rose high the sword was sent to the conqueror Juliar Cesar as a trophy of the wars he had one. But he was murdered shortly after receiving it. The sword became a symbol and heirloom of the Cesar's passed down from emperor to emperor until it reached Tiberius. He was a vengeful, evil man. He built the fortress of Capri, a huge palace on an island far from anywhere and when the sword came to him. He brought witches from Rome to his palace, he demanded his future be told and revealed that of course he was the one of the swords profercy. But he was not. The witches could not show him these lies so one by one he executed them all. But those witches cursed him and his family that all Cesar's born after him would suffer terrible fates. And all his sons died before birth. His daughters caught infections luckily on survived and the family continued to rule when he died he sealed the sword away hoping to end it's mythos, but the family were often struck by tragedy by this time Rome began to fall and fail the Cesar's began to loose control."

"Ooooh no! What happened daddy tell us!" Sammia smiled

"One day many many years later after the sword had long since been forgotten the generations passed so long the blue blood had long been watered down. Rome had lost four emperor's has quickly as it had gained them until one last boy remained. Romulus Augustus Cesar. He was crowned emperor of all Rome and her empires when he was merely a small ten year old boy he ruled Rome for a breif time when the goths attacked!"

"Ahhhhhhh!" They both screamed 

"Yes they did they laid waste to the city and captured the emperor. They sealed the young Cesar boy in Capri as an island prison to live out his life alone. But while there he discovered the sword. Having been sealed away all those many years in the palace, he took the sword. And he battled his way single handedly free from Capri. Luckily a boat of Roman loyals came by to help him. They tried to find him sanctuary but the empire was an awful mess due to the goth invasion. So the young emperor ordered the loyals to Britannia where they all would be safe from the turmoil and in hope that if he returned the sword there perhaps the witches curse would be lifted from the sword. They went and even found the great Roman wall and the last Roman legion who protection itong since having abandoned Rome living a Celtic life, But once arriving in Britannia evil found them still"

"No daddy no" Arthur worried 

"Yes it did! People even still after all this one believed truly in the profercy and in knowing the sword was back in Britannia attacked villages in the hope of finding the sword. When the young emperor found them attacking at the wall he lead his loyals, the last Roman legion and an army of britannia men against these evil cultists and they were vanquished"

"Yay!" They both giggled 

"But then… what happened to Romulus? And the sword?" Arthur asked 

"Well he gave up the sword and sealed it in stone in hope to end the fighting, curses and other darkness it had caused the world. And the sword was no more."

"And Romulus?" Sammia asked

"Well. Knowone knows for sure what happened to him. But I think, he likely found a beautiful Britannia girl, that he loved dearly, settled down with her and had beautiful little children of his own, giving up the crown's and royal ways to have a wonderful life with the people that matter most" I explain

"No. I think Romulus is still out there with his cool sword fighting all the world's evil! Battling dragons and mermaids!" Arthur laughed 

"No I like that he would settle down that sounds nice. Do you think he has a pretty wifey daddy?"

"I'm positive he does. And beautiful little children" I smiled trying not to laugh I was about to speak but the door opened y/n stood there in her long grey dress with her little brown corset belt, her bag of herbs over her shoulder, her hair in a sweet braid she saw us all and smiled 

"Arthur and Sammia Pendragon, what are you two still doing up?" She warned them S she came inside

"Daddy was telling us a story mummy!"

"Alright, off to bed both of you or no walks in the woods with Merlin tomorrow" she told them giving them each a hug, I gave them both a cuddle too wishing them good night as they hurried off to their bedrooms. 

She sorted her things from her walk in the woods and I smiled at her 

"Hello sweetheart"

"Hello." She glared

"What?"

"I heard the story"

"Ohh did you like my story?"

"You over exaggerate" she warns tidying up a little

"Am I not allowed to exaggerate when I tell them stories?"

"You can just not that much" she laughed "single handedly out of Capri? Maybe I should go ask Merlin about that?"

"No. I'm allowed to exaggerate sweetheart. For the sake of storytelling"

"Alright. Just don't seem ridiculous" she giggled "besides I'm sure they'll learn how the story really ends someday. Right Romulus?"

"One day. I'll tell them how it ends." I smiled getting up and giving her a soft cuddle "that Romulus settled down in a little Brittany village, met the most beautiful Celtic witch and married her on the hill. Changed his last name to Pendragon and had two beautiful children with his lovely wife." I smiled pulling her head into my chest and giving her some kisses 

"Ummm, I'll be three by the time you them" 

"It might, or maybe four or five"

"I'll consider it, come along then to bed Mr Pendragon or no strawberries tomorrow" 

"Alright. Come on let's get to bed" I smiled giving her lips a kiss, the two of us shutting the house up and heading to bed ourselves. 

#tbs #thomas brodie sangster #thomas sangster #tbs smut #thomasbrodiesangster #tbs imagine #tbs imagines #thomas sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster imagine #thomas brodie sangster smut #the last leigon #thelastlegion #romulus smut #romulus imagine #romulus augustus #romulus

[aerkame]

Warhammer 40k Fic ideas

I think we can all agree that Warhammer 40k has an insane amount of lore and it's hard to pick just one topic. So, I decided to just make a poll and ask from a list of topics that you guys would want to see written in as a fanfiction.

Now, there is a full fanfiction I plan on writing already based on a one shot fic I already wrote, but aside form that, I am not sure what other topics to get into.

For my usual readers, yes, I am still writing that finfolk fanfiction and Alive AU

Some of these are reader inserts for a reason (or at least, I just don't know how I could write an x reader for it) for the sake of staying in character or maintaining their image. The Emperor *cough cough*-

I love the custodes in case you could not tell. :]

#warhammer 40k #emperor of mankind #wh40k reader insert #wh40k #space marines #warhammer 40k x reader #primarch x reader #wh40kcrack #fanfiction #adeptus custodes #adeptus astartes #aeldari