Self reminders since I can't remember things reliably. Those named after colours or things are simply unnamed but to help remind me of which legion/chapter they're from. Also one offs get their own tag
Pre-heresy
Gaius, Purple, Pale Green, Kaeso, Word Bearer Group (Hora, Nakir, Hakael)
You just moved your eyes slightly to meet the almost impenetrable one of the Iron Warrior in front of you.
Words like those would have been almost normal, calming even if the one who pronounced them had been someone else. But from an Iron Warrior? It was obviously a mistake.
Dantioch was…a difficult one to picture. He was different from his brothers in several ways. The particular one? He had always shown you a more…human side.
He had not shown you aside; there was not the same respect that he could have shown for his legion, but there was something else there. Maybe it was pity?
He had showed you several times that instead of a burden or a stain on their legion name, you were mostly just a fish out of water. He had noticed more than once the way his father treated you, how hard he was, and how you quivered at his side. He wondered if that was the right way, if he was the only one that had noticed and accepted that.
And, to his dismay, he found out that not only wasn't he the only one that had noticed, but many found the treatment of your persona not only justified but even entertaining. He had heard what his brothers said, how they hoped that his genesire would mold you into something more than a pretty face, or maybe just get rid of you.
Voicing his worries? Useless, he had lost his position and his status, and no one would even consider his thoughts.
It was when he had heard his father lashing out again, when he had to intervene before his hands could do the job that the words were only mentally doing, that he had decided.
If no one wanted to act, then he would have.
You raised your eyebrow, suspecting something from him.
"What kind of question is that?"
"Just answer, my lady…"
Not a single trace of malice or that kind of abrasive tone that Perturabo had somehow passed to his sons. You sighed, waving your hand dismissively.
"Never being more satisfied with my current position. My husband provides for me, and I'm proud to be the Lady of the Iron Warriors—"
"I know about what my father wishes you to say. But my own wish is to hear your own words, the ones from your heart."
You kept silent, opting to look at him like you were trying to read between the lines. Realizing that no, there was no actual second motive, the suspicious look became softer, deeper…sadder.
"…I cannot say… I wish I could, but I can't…"
"You fear that I will tell my father?"
"…I suppose."
He hummed, his eyes now to the window, the view of the deep space going on forever.
"…My lady," he said deeply. "Put on your cloak… Let's take a walk."
///
It was cold. Regardless of how many furnaces were lit, how many steamers erupted like small geysers around the hangar, or how many pieces of hot iron were moved like burning cinders, everything felt constantly cold to you. The only source of heat seemed to be your chaperone on this stroll around the Iron Blood. You have lived here for months, and still you haven't memorized any route or area, mostly because you preferred to stay far away from everything and everyone. Avoid the stares and mockery. Dantioch moved slowly, careful to not lose you around, always keeping you close, a few steps, never too far to wander nor too close to scare you. He would have handed you an arm, but it would have raised more questions than he wanted now.
You followed, observing the area. No matter how many times you saw the Stormbirds moving and flying in the deep space, it was always quite the spectacle for you. He had noticed, his smart eyes observing your eyes from the mask.
"The first time I tripped on the grate of the ship," he said with a rumble. "Everybody looked at me like I had been executed… But it was quite hilarious from my perspective…it was…funny, so I chuckled. No one laughed, so I felt stupid then."
"You were just human," you responded carelessly. "Humans do mistakes. You all can make them."
"Not from my father's perspective."
"He's… He's a different story." You dismissed "He cannot accept mistakes because he cannot accept that he can make them. And he does, many to my own account at least."
If anyone would have listened to your words, you would have shut out to keep your thoughts to yourself, even worse for the more devoted son. Dantioch just mumbled something, acknowledging your words, reflecting on them carefully before he could say anything.
"So you admit…that even your marriage was a mistake on his part?"
You stood there, your empty look now giving space to one full of suspicion. He was going somewhere, not only with his words but even with his walk. The place was almost empty, a part of the hangar that was silent, with the exception of the long-distant sound of the shuttles. He turned around, looking at you; the so common bluish eyes of your spouse were the kindest you could remember from anybody on him.
"I know it is. I may be his son, but I do not turn a blind eye when I can see that something is clearly wrong. I had listened; I even interrupted when things were going far too astray."
"…Even so, it is far more difficult." You sighed. "I cannot go anywhere… Olympia belongs to him, to your legion. Your legion is devoted to him, and even if just one of you, or you, speaks up for me, no differences will be made. I'm his wife and in an Olympian costume—"
"Means his property. I'm aware, my lady."
One Stormbird entered the empty hangar. It wasn't its presence per se that caught your attention, but the bright yellow and the fist insignia on its side that somehow put you off.
"My father will send me away in…days, now. I'll be forced to move to Lesser Damantyne, fortified by the garrison. As you know, I have lost not only my position but also his own respect and… I fear that without me around there would be no defense against him."
The Stormbird did not stop its engine even when the port opened. From its insides, a giant of a man, even bigger than a normal Astartes, came out. Blond short hair, grey piercing eyes, and the strong features of the sons of Dorn are usually shown with pride. There was a moment of panic, remembering that every interaction with that legion had always led you to more conflict with your husband, but everything came to a halt when Dantioch headed towards the other men and greeted him.
"Barabas Dantioch, I presume…" the Imperial Fist spoke first. The ex-commander nodded.
"I'm Alexis Polux. I came under the request of my Primarch…" His attentive gaze has fallen under the questioning looks on yours.
"You must not worry about any of my brothers knowing about your presence, Polux," spoke Dantioch more calmly. "The area is covered; no one knows you're here, and no one will know what you have taken away."
"… I'll follow orders as always, but I must ask now: are you sure of what you are doing?"
"Let me just ask you a question: would you allow your father to harm an innocent while professing his love for them?"
Alexis did not speak; he just stared for one solid minute at his feet. Then he gestured again towards you, motioning to come closer.
"We must leave, my lady; my father waits for you."
You took one step back, one that Dantioch followed. His hands rose, trying to calm you down.
"Please, this is your only chance."
"He'll—he'll go mad! He'll kill me himself!" You started to tremble. "Dantioch, don't make me do this; if he hasn't killed me before, he'll do it now!"
"He'll do it if you stay, or my brothers will! Either way, there's no chance of getting out of it. Rogal Dorn has been moved; he guaranteed your right of asylum!"
"I cannot! The rules… Olympia…everybody, I can't—"
His hands grasped you; the metal did not harm you like you had always worried; it was warm and smooth. He held you there on the ground, forcing you to stop trembling, to make you reason.
"Without proper soil no life can grow. You are not one of us; you are delicate, made for light and for gentle care. You are not made for the roughness of our legion; it was preposterous to believe you could adapt."
He took a moment, his knee touching the ground, allowing himself to look you in your eyes. You were right; they were gentle. Even despite the mask he wore, they were clearly kind and with a foreign softness.
"Please, Mother…please leave before the worst can happen."
Alexis shifted in his boots, looking around, more concerned that the delay could put his position at risk and cause some grave actions against his legion. You looked at him, then at Dantioch again: he wasn't the only one to put his own well-being at risk, but the men on the Stormbird, Rogal Dorn himself. They did it, making you feel, for the first time in these years, that you did matter, that your life wasn't there just to calm down a Primarch that could not control his own rage. You felt it bloom in your chest: hope.
You grasped his metal mask with the same gentle touch that he had always felt when you thanked him, and your lips met his forehead. A kiss from a mother as gratitude for her son's good heart.
While seeing the Stormbird departing, Dantioch felt the heaviness in his chest leave him. His departure was scheduled for the next day; Perturabo would have connected the dots, but there was no proof that he would be the one behind your departure.
For once, being in the back of his father's mind seemed like a blessing.
😁😅🙂😭🌋 My gorgeous gigantic favorite Primarch best amazing wonderful gentle kind soul who can see through walls and in the dark and make clocks that slow down the aging process in humans— You need better ambient lighting.
Vulkan is perfect and had Never done Anything Wrong (discreetly kicking dead eldar child to side) and probably has The best smiles and hugs in the Galaxy, but MAN Why You Must scarouse people like that, that One poor remembrancer Lady still starts sweating everything she sees Green, dude.
These are 2225x3000 100% digital fanarts and sketches of Vulkan, AKA THE BEST PRIMARCH OF THE BEST LEGION/CHAPTER and If ya disagree with me I WILL gently respect your opinion, because this guy makes me Love Humanity
It was a part of courtly etiquette - a respectful kiss on a lady's hand. But the moment his lips touched her skin, all the noise of the ballroom faded for them, leaving only the loud beating of their hearts.
A warlord with 30+ years of war making and battle expertise under his belt, and a freshly integrated primarch whose biggest opponents up until then were cancer ridden mutants and giant scorpions.
Gene-blessed superstrength and expert tacticians by birthright, yes, but im sure the difference in experience meant that San got his ass beat a couple of times <- poorly explained self indulgence
Now, a bunch of zoom-ins, flats, and no speechbubbles
Ohhhh my god these zoom-ins look utterly dubious, ohhh god have mercy
