shiyorin
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I'm just wondering how the High Lords of Terra will react to the Inquisitor's report on Yandere Astartes
Sure it won't end well but they know what to do.
+++ HIGHEST SEAL - HIGH LORDS OF TERRA
+++ SUBJECT: RE - INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED ADEPTUS ASTARTES GENEFLAW
FROM THE THRONES OF THE HIGH LORDS OF TERRA:
Let the record reflect that Inquisitor [REDACTED]'s findings have been received and carefully analyzed by this most esteemed conclave. We commend your diligence in identifying this supposed "Geneflaw" affecting our vaunted transhuman warriors.
However, we must respectfully disagree with the Inquisitor's dire assessments and recommendations. To advocate the systematic extermination of countless Astartes Chapters, and thus weaken our Imperium at so tenuous a juncture, would be unforgivably shortsighted.
Instead, we propose an alternative stratagem to weaponize and harness these new "urges" infecting the Adeptus Astartes.
Based on the documented cases, it is now clear these divergent behaviors all stem from overpowering obsessions and perverse fixations towards certain unaugmented humans. Whether driven by abhorrent lust, deranged infatuation or utter self-destructive piety, the underlying essence seems a primal, animalistic drive to "possess" these individuals.
We must accept this metamorphosis as an opportunity, not a flaw. Just imagine the vast strategic potential of such unwavering, all-consuming devotion!
If provided "regulated doses" of these subjects, we could conceivably drive entire companies of Astartes into suicidal frenzies of zeal and ferocious protectiveness. Their battle-disciplines would be reinforced through the biological imperative to defend their "Obsessions" from harm.
A theoretical approach is outlined below:
1) Identify and indoctrinate vast stocks of psycho-bombinally suitable mortal humans to serve as "Fixation Targets"
2) Embed these "Fixation Units" within key Astartes deployments as "Distress Bait"
3) When Astartes succumb to these new gene-coded hungers, allow "bonding" under highly regulated circumstances
4) Closely monitor Astartes unit efficiency and combat fervency, providing "Fixation Targets" on a reward-basis
5) Deploy newly dedicated hunter-killer Astartes squads to priority war zones reinforce as needed with replenished "Fixation Units"
Properly implemented, this "Obsession Doctrine" would transform our Astartes into perfect weapon of fanatical, borderline psychotic intensity.
Casualties from "casualties of passion" would be relatively minor compared to the renewed slaughter they could inflict upon our foes. Even if entire Astartes assets are spent in the process, their sacrifices would be accepted as the highest honors.
This is the price of victory. The tormented spirits of these unaugmented mortals are a small cost to bear for the future dominance of Holy Imperium.
[ATTACHED: Proposal for funding "Fixation Unit" indoctrination camps on feral, non-compliant worlds. Methods for triggering and reinforcing selected psychosis strains…]
Let the Imperium's enemies fear the consequences of our newly unfettered wrath.
For the Emperor, no sacrifice is too unthinkable.
The High Lords of Terra shall catalogue your counsel under the highest seal.
Thought for the Day: "The path of virtue is narrow and sown with graven thorns. It is our eternal struggle to walk its bloody miles."
-High Lord of Terra
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The Inquisitor knows about yandere astartes, it won't end well
Inquisitor [REDACTED] report on yandere Astartes (????)
+++ CLASSIFICATION: [LOCK]
+++ CLEARANCE: Obsidian
+++ ENCRYPTION: [LOCK]
+++ DATE: 327.M38
+++ AUTHOR: Inquisitor [REDACTED], Ordo Malleus
+++ SUBJECT: INVESTIGATION INTO SUSPECTED GENEFLAW AFFECTING ADEPTUS ASTARTES SUBJECTS ACROSS ALL CHAPTERS AND FOUNDINGS
+++ EYES ONLY HIGHEST TRANCHESINQUISITORIAL CASE FILE [EXCISED]
Summary of Findings:
Initial reports of this suspected "Geneflaw" first reached my conclave several terran years ago. Astartes assets deployed to war zones began exhibiting highly erratic behaviors and perverse compulsions unbecoming of the Emperor's finest warriors.
Behavioral divergences included:
Unnatural emotional outbursts and loss of emotional mastery
Uncontrollable sexual urges and deviant acts
Possessive, clingy behaviors violating sacred chains of command
Irrational self-destructive and anti-imperial actions driven by object fixations
At first, these cases seemed sporadic and isolated across different Chapters. However, as more deplorable incidents piled up, a clear pattern emerged. Something grievous had gone wrong on a fundamental level.
Excerpted examples of documented cases:
[REDACTED] - BLOOD ANGELS CHAPTER
Audio log of Sanguinary Priest [REDACTED]
"Some dark curse has been visited upon our Chapter. A growing number of my battle-brothers have become… afflicted with wanton hungers. No mere physical needs, but all-consuming fixations on certain mortals within our care."
"They will stop at nothing to "claim" these individuals for themselves, body and soul. Any attempt at intervention results in unthinkable acts of disobedience and violence…"
[SAMPLE ENDS]
[REDACTED] - BLACK TEMPLARS CHAPTER
Thought downloading from captured Chaplain [REDACTED] upon interrogation
"The time for restraint is at an end. I can bear this throbbing in my soul no longer! She must know the depth of my unfettered desire, the fever pitch of my infatuation. If she does not return these longings, I shall shatter worlds until the God-Emperor take pity!"
*Interrogator's Note: [NEUTRALIZE]
[REDACTED] - EXCORIATOR CHAPTER
Recorded pict-captures from helm-cams during incursion on [REDACTED]
-Extreme Battlefield Fraternization between crusaders and human auxiliaries
-Acts of exhibitionism and self-mutilation by crusaders
-Systematic execution of any battle-brother expressing disgust at above actions
-Final pict: [REDACTED]
The list of astartes goes on. Worse, there appear to be no patterns in age, founding, homeworld or even primarch genealogy. These repulsive behaviors are emerging across every Adeptus Astartes chapter at random. The Imperium teeters on the brink of an catastrophic, gene-coded crisis.
Research into potential countermeasures and remedies continues. However, my conclusions thus far firmly advocate an extreme response to contain this threat.
RECOMMENDED ACTIONS:
1) Immediate executions for any Astartes subject exhibiting Geneflawed behaviors. No exceptions.
2) Full and systematic extinction-level viral bombings against all potentially compromised Chapters and fleets.
3) Pre-emptive destruction of all Astartes gene-seed repositories, along with any Adeptus Mechanicus factions and forge worlds implicating in its creation or study.
Only through the complete erasure of this genetic stock can the essence of the Adeptus Astartes be preserved for the inevitable darkness yet to come.
The Emperor's work must be done, no matter how abominable the means required.
I await your tribunal's final judgment on this matter.
Thought for the Day: "There is nothing to be gained through mercy, only fleeting weakness and eventual damnation."
-Inquisitor [REDACTED]
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Hello! Is there a masterlist for your warhammer modern AU fanfic? I saw the art and I did read what I could on Poipiku but I was wondering if there was more? I didn't know there was a NL character, my apologies I couldn't find anything else on your AU
I only posted that fic on poipiku. And I haven't updated the new chapters on this. But don't worry, I will update it soon.
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hi! getting-to-know-my-fav-creators-awkwardly challenge is going for me lol so if it's not something that makes you uncomfortable, what's your first language? btw you def fall into this stereotype of "eng is not my 1st language" - > "art in its purest form" /pos
Aww, thank you. And my first language is Vietnamese. And I have to admit that the Cambridge Dictionary and the Saurus (and probably Google Translate) are my best friends.
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AHHHHHHH, they are so cute!!!
Art for my friend's warhammer morden AU fanfic. These are her OCs. @shiyorin
Reader x Custodes oc Trahaerus x NL oc Shikath
Shikath: He bullies me. (Pointing at the
Custode cooking in the distance)
Reader: Be good, be good (I was thinking about the skull dog I saw recently, and almost laughed out loud)
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Well, I was just wondering what kind of virus could make primarchs sick. Because you know, with all the super genetic enhancements of the primarchs. If they actually got sick, I think anything that affected them would be incredibly dangerous to us, too. Because if they could get it, just imagine how much worse it would be for the rest of us.
But think about the angst and fluff potential. The Primarch became seriously ill and were forced to quarantine. He doesn't want to see you and forbids you to come close to him for your own good. And you understand that, even though you are extremely worried, the only thing you can do is pray for him. The two of you can only communicate via Vox. He said he would come back to you, and you were sure that he would come back to you.
And when his condition improves and you are allowed to see him again, he will probably panic and scold you for disregarding your own safety and seeing him. Or he will be extremely clingy and act like a child and want to be with you. And you know no matter what happens you will take care of this big man-baby.
@kit-williams @barn-anon summoning all the primarch x reader enjoyers i know bc ya'll need to hear this idea:
Primarch Sick Fics
There's something very appealing about the idea of such a big, strong, powerful man suddenly finding himself all weak and feverish, skin burning up and barely able to stand.
Having to convince him to step away from his work and wrangle him into bed, and having an excuse to fuss over him and give him lots of attention.
Perhaps he's uncharacteristically needy and cuddly in the depths of his illness?
I need to know what ya'll think
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Actually it come from my 30 days challenge. I will post full when I finished.
#You said Dorn is cooler than Perty.
#TW: NSFW, Primarch x Reader, Perturabo x Reader. Reader is Imperial Agent. Reader is dom (actually not)
1.
Perturabo's personal chamber were about as austere and utilitarian as you'd expect from the lord of the Iron Warriors. A stark grey cube of polished ferrobetон bulwarks and recessed weapon lockers, with nary a hint of ornament to disrupt the almost severity.
Not his current... companion seemed to mind in the slightest.
Sprawled across the primarch's chest like some cat, you let out a languid sigh of contentment. Most would find such casual liberties taken upon the personal space of a being as dangerous as a primarch to be the height of folly. Then again, 'most' didn't boast the Imperial Agent's unique... qualifications for reckless audacity. You seemed to relish in making Perturabo's cold immensity your own personal lounging spot, almost daring him to object.
Not that he ever would, of course. Despite himself, despite all his cold, Perturabo couldn't resist the instinctive urge to reach out with giant and gently comb his fingers through your hair.
You hummed in pleasure at his touch. Your lithe body practically melted into his frame, as though seeking some unforeseen reservoir of warmth within.
It was... disarming to say the least. Beyond even the simple fact that he, the remorseless master of the unbreakable IV Legion, would allow such intimacies to breach his sanctum sanctorum. No, what disturbed Perturabo to his gene was the contented serenity it sparked, despite all logic's demands that he extinguish such incendiary trivialities.
But somehow, the lord of Olympian bolters and siegecraft simply couldn't maintain his usual emotional partition when confronted by your inexplicable allures. Not while your warmth and intoxicating pheromones embraced him with such lascivious intimacy.
"My Lord?" you spoke with an almost playful lilt, eyes glittering up at him with impish amusement. "Did you hear what I said, or were you too busy woolgathering again?"
The primarch blinked down at you through narrowed optics. "My hearing remains uncompromised, agent. I simply saw little worth acknowledging in your words."
"Oh really?" you chuckled, turning on your side to press even more tantalizing expenses against his bulk. "Because it sounded to me like you were most diligently endeavoring to ignore me."
"Tks." Perturabo favored you with a disdainful look as his fingers resumed their unconscious ministrations through your tresses. "As if I have any cause to willfully disregard your prattle. I trust you are not about to assault my equanimity with any more of your tiresome... antics?"
A wicked grin suddenly blossomed across your features as you arched one insolent brow.
"But of course, my dear lord primarch," you said. "I was merely mentioning that I shall be departing shortly on a brief... operational liaison with the Imperial Fists."
You watched in gleeful silence as Perturabo froze, eyes widening ever so slightly as your words fully processed. After several protracted moments, his mountainous bulk stirred, expression automatically reassuming its usual adamant sternness as he looked everywhere in the chamber but at you.
To his steadily mounting disquiet, Perturabo was abruptly revisited by impulses long thought absent. That same gut-gnawing, piloerected revulsion which used to grip his psyche back on Olympia, whenever one of the better pit fighters bested him for the favor of his adoptive father's eyes.
Hissing isotopic vapors briefly bloomed across his knuckles before Perturabo managed to regain sufficient autocontrol. A distinctly petty, almost atavistic part of him rebelled at the thought of you ... You become an 'assistant' to another of his vaunted brothers.
But wait, what was he even thinking? He frowned. Why did it even matter to him what this mortal did or whom you followed orders from? Their association was that of pragmatic expediency, nothing more...
"So..." you continued, seeming to weigh your next words with exquisitely exaggerated care. "I mean, you two are brothers after all. So it only makes sense that lord Dorn would seek out other... capable assets to assist him during his sojourns. Don't you agree?"
Perturabo found his jaw clenching tight. Almost against his will, every word grated through corrosive impulses and came out laced with a petulance.
"So what," the primarch ground out "That has nothing to do with-"
He broke off at the sight of you delicately arching brows. Before he fully realized what was happening, his hand hold tight around behind your waist, pulling you closer to him without exerting anything like his full strength.
"I don't care what you do," he growled. "Just... don't expect me to miss you."
There, Perturabo had said it. Even as the words tumbled forth, he felt part of himself fracture in disbelief at their naked desperation. For a long moment, you stared back at him, inscrutable and perfectly still save for the faint up-and-down rise of your breastcage. Then your eyes blazed, and you unleashed a tumbling chord of throaty, utterly genuine glee.
"Now why do I need that?" you chuckled, breaths causing your exquisite flesh to ever-so-slightly press against his chest. "Especially when lord Dorn is so... much... cooler?"
Perturabo shifted uneasily as your lithe form draped itself upon his body like a silken shroud. His hands itched to caress the delicious curves barely contained by wisps of silk, yet still he hesitated.
Your mischievous grin spoke of conquest achieved as you felt the mighty bulge stirring against your belly. He hissed between clenched teeth, torn between outrage and desire as always where you were concerned.
"You insolent..." he growled, though made no move to escape your bold caresses. His hands remained fisted at his sides even as his manhood swelled eagerly under your ministrations.
You nuzzled the muscled column of his throat, nipping playfully at the rapid pulse point. "Come now, my lord, is this any way to treat your faithful agent?" Breathy laughter ghosted across sensitized skin, eliciting a ragged groan.
For all his fearsome might, this... remained a strange, uncertain territory fraught with vulnerabilities he loathed to expose. But you had a way of chipping away even his thickest armor, burrowing past defenses to the needful beast beneath.
Your lips grazed the shell of his ear, hot breath sending shivers down his spine. "My lord... let me care for you." Nimble fingers trailed the sculpted planes of his chest, lingering on scars both new and old.
He grunted noncommittally, though already his body betrayed treacherous interest pressing against your core. Even through layers of fabric your eyes darkened at the impressive size and heat radiating from within.
Slowly, not giving him a chance to refuse, your hand closed upon the growing bulge. A hiss escaped his clenched teeth at the gentle contact, muscles tensing beneath your palm. Your touch was exquisite torment, stoking fires only you could quench.
"Please..." you breathed, nipping along his jaw. No one had ever pleaded so sweetly for his favor before. How could he deny such a request?
Slowly, never taking your eyes from his, you sit up to your knees. Steel eyes smoldered as your fingers found the laces of his pant, loosening them with practiced skill.
His cock sprang free, rigid stalk flushed deep purple and weeping droplets of need. Even now, the sight of his magnificence never fails to quicken your own passions.
You ran your hands admiringly along its thick girth, marveling as always at how such an organ could exist. As expected, your lord was indeed a god among men, his every attribute enlarged to match his power.
Leaning in, you flicked your tongue lightly across the broad head, gathering the salty fluid onto your tastebuds. A shudder wracked his massive frame at the exquisite torture.
Your eager lips parted to accept Perturabo's generous girth, though your mouth watered in anticipation rather than dread. No matter how many times you enjoyed this divine union, his size never ceased to astonish.
Wrapping your small hand around the hot, velvet steel of his cock, you pumped slowly, eyes alight with challenge and desire. His answering growl stirred your own appetites as ever.
Flicking out your tongue, you teased the broad, flared head, savoring the bead of saltiness that welled from the slit. Your lord's body tensed deliciously, and you knew he fought to restrain the savage thrusting such exquisite torment provoked.
Opening your lips as wide as you were able, you took the broad crown past your teeth, chin stretching almost painfully at the intrusion. A groan shuddered from your core at the exquisite fullness even this shallow penetration invoked.
Inch by straining inch, you took more of his girth into the tight velvet glove of your mouth, cheeks hollowing to ease your task. Your jaw ached gloriously with the effort of stretching around him, the musky scent of his arousal stoking your own to a fever pitch.
At last you could progress no further, your mouth stuffed so full only the barest hint of tongue could caress his engorged flesh. Your throat worked futilely against the invasion, saliva dribbling past stretched lips to soak his base. His fingers wound tightly into your hair, forcing your movements.
You bobbed rhythmically, hollowing your cheeks to heighten every sensation. His ragged moans spurred you to fresh efforts, swallowing around the bulbous crown as it hit the back of your throat.
Gazing up with eyes bright with unshed tears and lust, you sucked strongly, rewarded by Perturabo's grunts. Your name fell from his lips in a prayer and curse alike, massive hands urging you to continue your exquisite debasement.
His release came with a roar that shook the very walls, jet after jet pulsing down your willing throat. You drank deeply of his essence, milking him through every last spasm.
Only when he softened did you release him with an obscene pop, smiling up at glazed eyes heavy with release and wonder alike. "My lord, was that... satisfactory?"
.... It was worth any pain to see him come undone...
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I finished portrait of Ahzek's PTSD source twin brother 💀✨
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The Annunciation
WARNING: VERY HEREICAL
Yes, the reader is pregnant.
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What I wanted to write was fanfic but what they forced me to write was medical records.
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#You bully that dreadnought... On Slaneesh way.
#Don't ask me why. Blame my sadistic ass.
As Dreadnought drifted up from the embrace of restorative stasis, his hyper-intuitive mind immediately perceived something was… Off.
Firstly, his enhanced biorhythms, so finely calibrated to solar cyclicities that he could track planet's orbital procession to the nanosecond - seemed utterly out of sync with the chamber's illumination cycle. Rather than preprocessing the new Terran day's data overload as he typically did, an uneasy lethargy still clung to his humming catalytic synapses.
Secondly, as the veteran astartes ran a condensed lifepulse through his modification suite to jog the lingering reactivation virages, his tactical displays lit up with… anomalies. Physiometric feedback cascades infiltrating his cogitator stacks from some unknown external vector. Intrusion countermeasures were in place, but being unable to triangulate the invasive source set his soul to slow burning.
This… this was entirely outside established parameters. And for one of the Imperium's most brilliant veteran, having his personal boundaries violated in such way was utterly unacceptable.
As he fought through the last clinging tendrils of false-sleep fog, the final sensory intake to kickstart sent a jolt of pure electroglutamic shock through his entire catalytic physiology, a reflex as potent as it was primal.
Something soft and warm was pressed against him. Something whose lithe, slender contours radiated the faintest whisperings of an electromagnetic aura achingly familiar yet utterly alien at the same time. Before his hyper-rational consciousness could even process the dissonance, that same sensual presence began to…shift.
Stir.
As if in slow-motion, he felt the silken texture moving in languorous serpentine coils around his heavily armored limbs. Goosebump paresthesia blossomed across his tertiary plexus intakes as naked skin glided along the articulated grooves of his war-plate like molten metal. And all the while, his body registered the steadily mounting crescendo of a biomantic scent signature utterly unique yet vaguely…human.
"Oh dear, it seems you're awake," murmured a contralto from the dreadnought peripheral blind spot. "I do hope my little indiscretion didn't disrupt your circadian realignment cycles. That would be…tragic."
The flaring familiarity of that deceptively dulcet tone sparked a starburst of synaptic flashes across his nervous rictus. Instantly all tactical augurs recalibrated and his external ambiopulse defenses came online in a heartbeat.
You.
Who let you into this chamber? During the tortured nanocycle it took to recompile his disparate thought processes, he very nearly missed your next sibilant words.
"Rest assured, my emissions won't be affecting your precious vigor too profoundly. I calculated their dilative saturation thresholds to precisely… enervating parameters."
Something sinuous and searingly warm began undulating tighter around the Dreadnought's immobilized form. Each time the lithe coils shifted closer, his tertiary cortices ignited with phantom paresthesia, as if psychoconductive lightning were tracing arcane sigils up and down his ossified neural clusters.
He gritted his teeth against the maddening sensation while attempting to regain enough body control to break the embrace. He may not have been psychically gifted like psyker… but damn his soul to the warp's most obscene corners if he didn't recognize a psychokinetic trap when his enemy sprang it!
But for all his preternatural willpower and unmatched self-discipline, every synaptic impulse to leverage free of your grip dissipated like mist. Even his pinnacle physiology couldn't resist the achingly sensual pull gradually overpowering his every conditioned response.
"While I admit this evening's intimacy was… rather ungracious in its execution," that surgically-sculpted voice crooned amidst the frenzied synaptic backlash. "After all… You aren't the first transhuman to capitulate to pleasures of the flesh."
There was that damned smile again, stretched across the your rapturously serene expression like the crescent corona of a newborn pulsar. To his mounting dismay, he couldn't deny the understated beauty of your features, chiseled cheekbones, bow-curved lips, eyes that smoldered like binaric black hole's event horizon.
Refracting off that obsidian perfection, the latest of Imperium chromium-steel dawns birthed fiery amber halos that exalted every elegant line and curve, casting dramatic facets of shadow across your corded musculature.
As much as him railed against admitting it, some baser part of his transhuman psyche couldn't help but acknowledge the sheer flawlessness of your synthetic form. Every plane of your, every tantalizing valley was precise to several decimalized fractals of perfection. More a living work of art than merely engineered flesh and bone.
It was only when you leaned closer still, nearness forcing his to hyper-focus on your features, that he realized the danger he was truly in. Whatever genetic mastery had gone into crafting your physique was but a microcosm compared to the sheer otherness lurking behind that dangerous.
"Relax, Ancient one…" Your aura swelled and ebbed like a cosmic heartbeat.
A drift of shadows coalesced across your features, drawing out the deepest folds of obsidian corruption barely constrained beneath that timeless synthetic epidermal expanse. Within the umbra's ephemeral flicker, he thought he caught a glimpse of hooked talons that may or may not have been claws.
Then, in a voice grating with gleefully damned malice, you concluded in a whisper so quiet yet simultaneously deafening that it threatened his:
"Let me show you… beginning with the punishment of being brought low."
#shiyorin's writer#wh40crack#space marine x reader#reader insert#warhammer 40k x reader#lol#actually i don't think it's romantic
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Want to bully a dreadnought? On Slaneesh way? ( ͡° ͜ʖ ͡°)
Of course, you want.
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Because someone asked me, I put some unfinished Warhammer fanart here. I'm too lazy to finish them all. XD Repost or leave some like and comment please if you enjoy them,I would be very happy
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