#chainaxe
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My local Warhammer shop had a "ten paint challenge" where you get a free miniature to paint, but you can only use the ten random paints you are given (well, buy, unless you already own them).
Here are my paints!
And the mini I got was a Khorne Jakhal...
Well, not the best selection, but here's how I got on!
I don't think he turned out so badly. If he makes it into the shop's display cabinet then I'll update!
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Chaos Space Marines
by Lewis Jones
#chaos#heretic astartes#astartes#cultists#black legion#daemon engine#warp#mutant#bolter#chainaxe#chain weapon#power weapon#grimdark#battle#lewis jones#40k
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Possessed World Esyer
#art#artwork#illustration#fanart#traditional art#armor#warhamer 40000#space marines#chaos#chaos space marines#world eaters#khorne#bloodforthebloodgod#chainaxe#rip and tear#possession#demon
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Khornate Champion
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Clowning the local WE player for these baby blue pauldrons on the heresy announcement
#wtf is this color#why is there no gratuitous blood spatter#where tf is his chainaxe#everything about this is just wrong lmao#they are cute tho ngl#warhammer#warhammer meme#warhammer 40k#world eaters#horus heresy
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The Ibiza is an evolution of the remote piloted vehicle concept in conjunction with the IPS-N Lamprey torpedo. Rather than using a comp-con or being controlled by a human from a command centre, the Ibiza instead relies on a more refined version of the Sekhemet NHP. This more advanced form comes with a greater risk of unshackling, however the standard use case of the frame means friendly fire which comes with the NHP is not an issue.
The frame is used an alternate loadout for lamprey torpedoes as opposed to standard lamprey subalterns. Fired from line ships, lamprey torpedoes careen into enemy craft and deploy a shaped charge, cutting through hull plates and linking the main payload tube to the interior of the enemy ship. The payload (in this case, the Ibiza) burst into the enemy ship with the intent of doing as much damage as possible, hacking at everything nearby with their chainaxes before anti-boarding teams disable them.
Once registered as non-functional, the Ibiza activates its explosive compound inserts as a final deathblow, usually dealing crippling damage to whatever ship system it managed to carve its way to.
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Good Afternoon, Mrs. Kit.
How about a secretly, chaotic darling/“owner” short?
—
“Not as bad as what is going on right now.” The darling reports. Scrolling through their phone.
“What you mean—“
Boom!
The friend of the darling jumps, and looks back outside. Then looks back at the Darling, looking shocked before rushing outside with the Darling just casually following behind.
“W-What did you do to their truck?!” The darling's friend yells out, astonished. Their hands combing through their hair.
“What truck?” The darling simply replies. Unbothered, as they watch the flames eat at the said truck that was white.
Until, she spots her Astartes(s) coming back from one of their weekly trips.
Huh, well sh*t.
—
I wasn’t sure about the Astartes type. So, free rein?
Couldn't think of something to go directly off of this but I'm gonna work with the vibe of it.
tw: abuse? Someone gets slapped. Then someone almost gets clapped permanently
"FUCK YOU!" They could hear walking back into their normally sleepy community. The most ruckus that was caused was mainly by the Astartes living there... and maybe the HOA.
"By the dark gods who is yelling?" A black legionary asks one who would have normally separated to head back to his human family.
"Carthax is that yours?" Someone asks
"I've never heard her yell before." The world eater says as the group of them round the corner and Carthax sees his human yelling at a male human. Sure they were bigger than his human but there was nothing-
SMACK
He blinked as he watched his human get hit. The nails dug in deep. His scream of rage was deep and guttural. "BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!" He ignored the distant bark back of 'Skulls for the Skull throne' as he ran.
"CAR DONT KILL HIM!" Is what he heard at the last second as his chain axe moved a few inches before its teeth ripped into flesh only sinking into the ground. Carthax was over the man... he wasn't focused on his screams... his twitching hand eased up on the lever for his chainaxe. KHORNE DEMANDED BLOOD! HE DEMANDED BLOOD. He looked to his human the rebreather over his mouth frothing as he twitched and snarled.
"Of Course you'd get a fucking World Eater!" He man under him snarls and Carthax lightly squeezes his throat as a warning growling.
"Fuck You so much! I got a World Eater because I know your psychotic ass can't listen to a fucking restraining order!" You scream as Carthax could see the large red handprint on the side of your face.
"I could kill him." Carthax snarls out in Gothic. But he is certain you have an idea what he is saying to you.
"Car get off of him. He's not worth it." You say knowing that he'd probably would actually kill your ex and add his skull to that shrine in your basement... you still don't know where the blood is dripping from and how it's not just staining the floor... its very bizarre. "Now get in your fucking car and stop annoying my neighbors! And if you accuse me of fuckin him again I swear to... Khorne I will slap you!" You hated your ex as he was weird and paranoid about Astartes and what had set you off was him accusing you of leaving him to sleep with your Carthax; though you know if you had a boyfriend you were certain he would bring up cheating again. You turn away and go to head back inside.
"Don't you walk away from me!" He shouts before Carthax gets in-between him and you snarling and revving his chain axe as he just intimidates him back into his car and watches him drive off. The nails feel like they dig less as Carthax rushes inside to see you on the floor in the kitchen cradling your face.
"Get me the phone." You say sadly as you're not looking forward to dealing with the police and then them being all suspect of your world eater and it being a mess. You just lean your head on his arm as the phone is placed into your hand. "Did you have fun?" You start but Carthax shakes his head and taps the phone gently as you sigh. "You promise to tell me about it after?" You smile as he nods and just sigh as you once again file a report on your ex.
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A Warhammer 40K FanFic
Author's note: This is strictly for fun. I have my Warhammer-loving husband proofread and edit my chapters. If he says it is good, then it's good by the only person's standards I wish to meet. Lyra and Reid are our own characters based on us.
Chapter 1: Survivors
Roars and harsh scraping of metal erupted through the blood-red, dusty sky as a large number of grotesque soldiers clad in light armor, welding guns, and blades rushed the wide-open field littered with corpses and debris from an excruciatingly long battle. Blood pumped adrenaline into the opposing Adeptas Sororitas donned in power armor as she stared the enemy in the face, pulling the trigger on her bolt pistol and taking out what man she could. If she was going down, she was taking as many as she could with her. It was not until a split second later that she noticed movement several feet away on her side of the battlefield. Cutting her eyes, she saw it was an Imperial Guardsman, but she could not tell what condition he was in. All she could see from where she stood was a soldier whose olive-green trench coat was caked in blood whether it was his own or the enemy. Regardless, if he was still moving, he could still fight.
In a quick dash, she moved to her allies’ side giving him enough cover fire to get on his feet. It was as if he was bestowed a blessing he did not deserve as he stared up at her for a brief moment through his gas mask. It was clear what had happened now as he looked around at the massacre. Their entire squad was obliterated and they were the last two survivors. The Kriegsman jumped to his feet, snatched his lasrifle from the ground, and took aim. One, two, five, several men shot and downed but it still was not enough for them to back off. The woman noticed one of the opposing Ogryns ready his grenade launcher and the only thing she could think of was to grab ahold of the Kriegsman next to her and yank him out of the way behind some rubble. It gave them a moment to reload and reassess their options.
“Glad to see at least I am not alone in this,” she spoke boldly. “I know your reputation, Kriegsman, but do try to stay alive.”
The man looked at her and took a deep breath reloading his gun. “As you command, sister,” he responded almost regrettably with a curt nod. “I will fight with you ‘til my last breath.”
Once the break in the enemy’s fire had come, the Kriegsman and Sister rushed from behind the rubble and unloaded upon them once more. They could not make any advances and they could not really retreat. An attempt was made to contact the ship or anyone for that matter, but there was never a response. It was an assumption that the coms ceased to work or there was too much interference.
The Kriegsman noticed a body with grenades still present just a few feet away and decided to make a break for it. The sister covered him as he did but ducked covering her head from another explosion. Managing to grab them, he rushed forward pulling the pins and tossing the whole belt as hard as he could. They flew through the air until they landed at the feet of the army exploding on impact and taking a massive chunk out of their line. Then it made its presence known. The huge suit of unholy power armor covered in blood moved through the army, a giant chainaxe in one hand, heretical combi-bolter in the other. For two people, it seemed a bit excessive for a Chaos Lord to present himself, but it was just their luck it seemed. They could not defeat that. There was no way to defeat that. Their fate might as well have been sealed but that did not mean they would stop trying. Cowardice did not know a place within the imperium of man. If it did, it was killed swiftly.
“KRIEGSMAN! GET BACK HERE NOW!”
There was no response, only a frozen man unable to move. At first, she thought he might have been frozen with fear and truthfully, she did not blame him. It was a logical and human response. Though Kriegsmen were known to be fearless, maybe this was a moment of truth to see just how fearless they really were when no one else was around.
The giant took many large steps toward the pair, closing the gap rather quickly until he was within arm's reach. He raised his blade ready to slice the man who swore to fight with her but then, nothing. The Kriegsman raised his fist and extended his fingers as if flicking water off his glove. A hole had blown straight through the Chaos Lord's armor and body so effortlessly that gore was strewn about the battlefield in an instant. The moment this gargantuan being fell over, the rest of the army turned tail and ran as fast as they could in utter fear as their champion fell. The Chaos Lord’s body exploded with empyrical energy, the explosion blowing the Kriegsman several feet away and into some metal rubble. The sister had no idea just what she had witnessed but it was certainly the work of the divine and maybe her prayers had been answered. He had fought until his last breath just as he had said and she was the last one standing, or so she thought. Out of reflex, she ran to him sliding across the mud and muck as he lay limp against the metal supporting him. His leg had been blown clean off at his knee, his mask had taken extreme damage resulting in the left side of his face terribly injured, and he was lucky he had a chest plate to protect his most vital organs. Those were the only obvious and noticeable injuries.
Leaning in, she felt for his pulse and was surprised he still had one after all that but his breathing was very shallow. The sister grabbed him, pulling him up into her arms to carry him to a much safer location to treat him. She could have left him to die, but if he was meant to die he would have been killed outright by that monster. Something was special about him and she was not going to let that be snuffed out so hastily.
After getting him to safety, she leaned him against the shelter’s wall and checked his pulse and breathing once more. He was still hanging on. She looked him over before taking some of the cloth from her garb to wrap tightly around his bleeding leg to slow the flow of blood.
“S- I- Lyr-” static came over her coms. “Sist– Come i-”
The sister opened her coms and began talking, whether they could hear her or not. “I’m here. This is Sister Lyra.”
There was still static but obviously, someone was trying to come through until the signal cleared. “Sister Lyra, this is Moz do you read?”
“Yes, Moz! Thank the emperor. I’m here. A guardsman and I are in dire need of your retrieval.”
“Understood. Send me your coordinates so that I may find you.”
Lyra leaned back for a moment and sent a signal to the pilot, Moz. “I sent them. Please, be quick about it. I need medical, immediately.”
She turned her attention back to the man in front of her and he was still unmoving. His chest rose and fell ever so slightly. Maybe if she just removed the mask, she could monitor him better. Lyra reached over and went to tug on his gas mask only for her wrist to be snatched in a panic. A single eye stared at her before realizing who she was and hesitantly let go of her wrist. Lyra pulled his mask off, tossing it aside for the moment. His face was nearly non-existent on the left as blood poured all over him as it was the only thing keeping his face intact. Taking yet another piece of cloth, she wrapped his head to stop the bleeding and keep what flesh on the left side together as she could. He hissed in discomfort but stayed still as she tended to him. He looked down at his leg noticing that it had been removed then felt the autogun wounds and bruises on his arms when he tried to move. He looked up at her curiously and she knew what he wanted to ask.
“How-” he started. “Sister, just leave me. I can be of no use to you. I'm sure I'll be disposed of once we're back on the ship…I didn't serve my purpose.”
“Pilot Moz is coming, you’ll be taken care of, and you’re going to live whether you like it or not. Do you understand?” she replied curtly.
Looking slightly taken aback by her tone, he agreed with a grumble. “Yes, ma’am.”
“You served your purpose. I don’t know what happened, exactly, but one second you were frozen solid and the next the beast was dead. I believe you were touched. That means you still have a fight left in you, and you're meant to live. So throw a fit, kick, and scream, whatever you like, you’re alive until further notice. What’s your number? Or.. name if you have one. Do Kriegsmen have names in the 83rd regiment?”
The man shifted and sighed. It certainly was not exactly what he wanted to hear but at least he did her a great service by keeping her safe with whatever he did. He could not remember.
“Reid Caldwell…Might I know yours, Sister?”
“Lyra Mickeal.”
The sound of a carrier hummed and shook the ground as it landed nearby. Two veterans left the ship to assist the pair returning to the ship as quickly as possible. As soon as they had returned to the ship, the Kriegsman was taken away for medical treatment following Lyra's orders and she was left writing the report noting every last detail of their mission and the disaster that had followed.
#warhammer fanfic#warhammer 40000#Warhammer 40K#Kriegsmen#death korps of krieg#adepta sororitas#Sister of Battle
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So I had these sitting around for a bit and didn't have any use for them, so i just decided to clean it a bit and then post it. So here, two snippets of a nailsremoved!AU to be balm on the wound of the inevitable tragedy that is Angron. Apologies about any incohesiveness due to it's rough nature. I'm trying to get more confidence in my own writing and posting more of the ideas that I don't spend 80 years on.
Relationships: Angron/Fem!Reader (an AU of my 'stolen historitor' saga)
Warnings: None really apart from typical 40k talk and Angron's general existence
Snippet 1
The only word you can use to possibly describe it, is euphoric.
Never in a million years, in all of your hopes and prayers and desperate pleas, did you ever think it would even be possible. Even he hadn't; Though as with much of his life, he'd accepted his inevitable fate with the same despondent anger as with much else.
You shouldn't be awake, but you can't help but watch him for a moment.
Angron sleeps sitting. Perhaps its a remnant of his time in the gladiator pits. That would make the most logical sense to you, watching as his chin presses against his collarbone. He has one leg bent and one straight out, his left elbow resting on the bent one. He's prepared to fight, even in his sleep. Even his chainaxes are still within reach. You know if you even shifted towards them, they'd be in his hands within the blink of an eye.
But it's still odd to you, not seeing them. The nails were such a poignant, overt part of Angron's silhouette, that their removal has been an adjustment. It feels like a part of him is missing; In an odd sort of way.
You accidentally shift, and he opens his eyes. You smile at him.
He grunts. You snuffle closer to him and lay against his side, content to stay there for the time being. He doesn't remove you, so you assume it's fine.
You’re happy, but it’s bittersweet.
You know that while Angron no longer feels the full punishment of the nails against every other emotion but rage, that portions of the nails that couldn’t be removed; The pieces that replaced parts of his brain will always give him pain. To say that he is cured is laughable as like some sort of sick curse, he can have no relief in his life. A more accurate description would be that they neutered the Butcher’s Nails to give Angron some breathing room.
"Does it still hurt?"
You say softly, feeling his massive hand flop on your hip.
While there is no longer any nails for you to soothe, he does still feel as if your company gives him relief. Perhaps that's just another human emotion he's only just now been able to taste.
“No.”
You don’t know if he says it because it’s true, or he merely mistakes the neutering of pain as full relief it would make sense, given how long he’s lived with the nails; The pain becoming part of him and even its slight removal could feel like it was gone.
He could also just be lying. Though perhaps it would be more accurate to say refusing to show weakness. Someone like him won't simply admit that pain is affecting him. He'll never show his stomach to anyone, now matter how close you may be to him.
He stares at you. Hard. It’s always impossible to tell what he’s thinking until he inevitably says it.
“You worry too much.”
Your lips purse, and Angron grips your face not too hard, but hard enough to make your cheeks empty of air.
"I'm not the only one. I'm just the only one who admits it." The gladiator makes a disgruntled, irritated face and looks away.
Snippet 2
What an odd moment in time, Sanguinius thinks.
To imagine that out of all of his brothers, the one hailing from Nuceria would be the one to change so drastically. And to think they'd almost thought him lost.
Such is the nature of life, he guesses. For things to change so quickly. Even in their long lives it doesn't seem to slow down in the slightest.
Sanguinius looks across the massive room, watching the World Eater's Primarch interact with the only human he's given time of day. A question must've been asked, as they look up to him with a curiosity and Angron glances down to give an amused scoff.
It's barely there, but he sees it. It's just barely noticeable in the slightly softened look in his eyes. But the angel is keen, and catches it. He speaks up to either of the men in his presence, to neither in particular.
"I've never seen that man crack even the smallest smile. And it's been, what, three hundred years?"
Sanguinius' wings are fluffed, comfortable in the presence of two of his closest brothers. They've even seen Konrad smile; Though context proves to be a valuable marker in regards to him in particular. Magnus crosses his arms and looks towards Horus, not having heard him when the two of them exchanged an amused chuckle at Sanguinus' observation. Odd, for the Warmaster. Normally whenever he's in the Angel's company on Terra, it's hard to keep a laugh off of his lips.
"Have you, brother?"
Horus looks towards his brothers with a soft, charming smirk, one that fades ever so slightly as he looks to Angron. He thinks back, trying to remember a moment where the man hailing from Nuceria had ever shown anything but rage boiling just beneath the surface.
He lets out a soft chuckle when he comes up completely empty, and shakes his head.
"No, I don't think I have."
With all three in agreement Sanguinus makes some sort of lighthearted jest to Magnus at Angron's expense, looking away from the Warmaster for a moment. He doesn't let his perfect veneer drop, as he sees the old gladiator speak words not audible to him at you.
Horus watches for a moment longer, and then walks away.
#not putting it in all the main tags because it's just a blurb#angron x reader#reader insert#reader#mywriting
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First real clear! Finally!
Tactics were extremely simply, everyone just held on for dear life and threw their bodies (and crabs. So many crabs... Beanstalk is legit really good guys) into the breach while Kal'tsit's murderous Spine Monster walked up to the boss, growled "1v1 me, scrub!" and slowly tore it to pieces.
The right flank was the most perilous as while Gavial is a beast, without any healing, I could only hope (and drop Surtrs) that the boss would not do it's line attacks over there because if Gavial went there'd be nothing stopping the enemy mages from smoking Funny Trench Warfare Jerboa and then just walking into my base. Thankfully Gavial is indeed a beast and as can be seen, lived with just a sliver of health as most of the mages stepped on a carelessly placed landmine and then while stunned, were introduced to the business end of Gavial's chainaxe.
The left flank was only a problem very early on as Beanstalk does not clear ice tiles quickly so I let a dog slip before I got space to put "Roadblock" Cuora and Leizi down. After that, nothing got past.
Schwarz started off in the middle using her S3 to quickly clear space for Nightingale and Leizi and then when the boss killed her she got to help out at the left side as Kal'tsit can kill the boss on her own.
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with the news about t'au crisis suits being split into three datasheets with specialized loadouts, i realize now my problem with this strategy of GWs is less the reduction of options for units and more so that the specialized units themselves are often too simple.
the space marine infernus unit for instance. flamer specialist marines aren't necessarily a bad concept, but all they have going for themselves is slightly stronger regular flamers. that's lame, why not give them them option of fielding with hand pyreblasters and say chainaxes as well, or let one of them lug around a massive fuck off heavy pyreblaster. hell why not let em pull out specialized incendiary grenade launchers, or dual wield pyreblaster pistols. it might be stupid but it'd look cool and give some variety within these hyper specialized units themselves, play to the themes. but no. you get pyreblasters or nothing on infernus squads.
so if your gonna quarter of fusion blaster crisis suits to the sunforges, atleast let em carry some stupid fun options. fusion grenade launchers? long or short fusion blaster options? fusion blades?!?!?!??? get creative.
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Mr. Arian?
What are your brother's views? And who are they?
They want to know who we are. Isn't that nice? Yes, it is. Or do they want to know who we were? Arrian, tell them who we were! Tell them about Terra! Yes, what was it like on Terra? Arrian, tell me about Terra, the memory is so hazy. Red memory. Warm memory!
Tell me about chainaxe eating skulls! How ceramite cuts into bone and shreds skin. And the soft mass beneath …. as it shines in the sick light of the most beautiful of worlds.
Sing a song of how we were brothers. Yes, born not of one mother, yet begotten of one father. Not seen on a common world the sky and yet closer than peas in a pod.
Make verse of it, Arrian!
Was not that a time when brothers were always murderers? Did we not see the black sands where the phoenix cut his lover's neck? Demigod spine torn from the darkness - so beautiful! Ah, black sand! Soft mire, sinking knee-deep in blood. Brother …. that was another word for prey. Back in the day. Wasn't it, Arrian? Wasn't it?
And yet we were always somehow left. We were always the ones who spilled blood. And you were there. Always. For us. Us. Good word - Squad. Brothers without a mother. Brothers without a father!
Forge songs about us, Arrian! Make your lips bloody for us. Tear them open and break your jaws for us! So will he who sits on the throne we build for him. Out of the marbles at the top, will you not?
Serve him, whether you like it or not. Honourless? Gloryless? No.
To cut us down like grass. On the throne world. So much pain in your eyes. Filled to the brim with grief like trees in autumn. Taking us with you. Why? Why not let us sleep in Terra's soil?
Sing of it, why! Didn't tuck us in at night. Kissed us on the forehead with hot ceramite. Thought you were doing the right thing! Right? Opposite of wrong? At that time? In that place?
Thought death was better than madness. Hubris, my brother. Who are you to decide?
And now here we are. With the man who is so much a non-believer that he himself is a little god. And you his disciple. With us. For we are always here. Always with you. Whispering. Laughing. Loving you as the saint loved our father in the fire of the homeworld. So much!
We are here, rattling hollow, seeing without eyes.
And you, Arrian?
Do you sing for us, brother?
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Corsairs vs Chaos Marine
by Lewis Jones
#chaos#heretic astartes#astartes#eldar#eldar corsairs#anhrathe#xenos#bionics#chainaxe#battle#grimdark#lewis jones#40k
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i guess it's time to actually introduce a few of my ocs
This is Lucy
She's both my comfort character and probably my most well-written one
She's clinically insane and kills people.
She also can't feel pain, and has a cursed cleaver lodged onto her head.
Usually, cursed artifacts tend to cause extreme pain to the body, though since she can't feel any of it (or even acknowledge it's there) she's able to have its power with no downsides. Not like she knows how to use said power anyways
Her weapon is called the "Chainaxe", is it, as the name suggests, an axe-shaped chainsaw. It's been rigged to be powered by magic, which has made it strong enough to tear through rock
You can't remove the cleaver itself from her head, but it does highly increase Lucy's mana capacity, although she's constantly bleeding.
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Transphobes and TERFS absolutely addicted to following my hot and funny ass lol, fuck off and die i wish gladiatorial combat was real so i could bury a chainaxe in your skull💕❤️💕❤️💕❤️💕
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Have you ever paid attention to how frequently the word “chain” appears in “Butcher’s Nails” and “Betrayer”? These Heresy books seem to use this word much more often than other books in the series. Chains on wrists and on weapons, chains wielded as weapons, renowned chain harpoons, chain-fights and chain-brothers, numerous metaphorical chains, and naturally billions of chainblades, chainswords, chainaxes, chainsaws, and so on. Even Word Bearers seem to enjoy wearing chains. I guess the use of "chain" as a keyword in World Eaters' books is rich in symbolism. No matter what, the chains - a sign of slavery that Angron forced upon them, whether willing or not - will always bind the XII Legion.
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