Content Warning: Violence, Sexual Themes, NSFW, Light Spooks
Chapter 1
The dim lights of the hall hum ominously, casting their sterilized white light in long shadows down the oppressive corridors of the administratum building. Eerily silent now, the whirling of machines meant to organize the innumerable stacks of endless paperwork having long since decayed. No scrawling of the autoquills against the vellum or the crackle of the loudhailer summoning forth the petitioners are heard, the only sound piercing through the darkness is that of ceramite boots and shallow breaths through the respirators of those fortunate enough to do the Emperor's bidding in this forsaken place.
Clare's eyes, a crackling violet hue, scan the dim light from the chamber ahead. The lights have gone from a dimness to flickering as the corridor enters into a open chamber, massive columns hold up the weight of the building responsible for the running of the planet's administration. She is certain one of the more poetic Battle-Sisters could find a metaphor in that. A sickly sweet stench hits her nose, smelling of honey, vanilla, cloves— but is just a little too poignant. Her respirator purges most of the scent but her nose still wrinkles. Her micro-bead squawks in her ear, the voice of her sister emanating both from the transmitter and behind her.
"Dominion Jezzarin. Auspex indicates anomalous readings within 100 meters. Proceed with caution and holy fury"
"Acknowledged, the enemies of the Emperor shall be purified from the premises." Comes the reply from Clare. With a practised click, the safety of her flamer engages, the pilot flame producing a righteous blue glint at the end of her weapon as her form surges forward, a rebellious strand of white hair swaying before her face. In a low ready she enters the chamber, beginning to navigate the labyrinth of narrow corridors, the thin passageways offering egress through the sea of knowledge and bureaucracy. Their orders are simple, investigate why the Administratum office stopped responding. An anonymous tip to the church claimed heresy abounded. The stench grows, but is subtly inviting, and after the initial burning of the nose seems to offer comfort and rest.
This illusion is shattered rather quickly, as exiting one of the claustrophobic passages between towering shelves as tall as buildings reveals a circular depression in the middle of the room. A half-flight of stairs leads into the depression. The sight is grisly, and is the stuff of nightmares. Papers are scattered across the floor, drenched in blood having soaked through the ink, leading to a slippery ichor staining the tiles. The scent is now pungent, and reeks of another horrible truth.
defilement.
Her eyes trail upwards to the figures in this place. Lithe, unnaturally skinned creatures with a lilac-pinkish hue tone glance their unnatural eyes over, their party having been interrupted. One of the creatures is face down inside of a rather corpulent bureaucrat's stomach, gnawing and tearing and consuming him alive as quivering moans come from him. One of the still alive humans laughs loudly as the crab like claw of this creature is tearing her apart piece by piece, her screams betraying both her euphoria and terror as she watches the claw snip off another one of her fingers, the creature purring.
There are many such sights. A quick assessment from her reveals there must be at least sixty of these things here. One of these creatures sticks out in particular— lounged upon a pile of records, a leg and spade-like tail wrap lazily around a man's waist, his body appearing dehydrated, his bones starting to poke through his skin as he withers away. With a simple flick of it's wrist, the creatures pushes the desiccated husk of a human aside, rising to it's hooves.
As the creature steps forward with it's unguligrade legs, it saunters, gliding rather than walking as their hips sashay to a rhythm demented and unheard. Draped over it's form are shimmering veils with colours that make the mind ache to comprehend, cloaking the perfect beauty sculpted by madness. It stirs something primal in Clare's mind, before twisting it to disgust, catching her in the limbo space between desire and desolation, corroding her very soul. The creature's face is a mask of perfection stretched beyond normalcy, lips opening into an exaggerated grin. The eyes, endless obsidian pools that drink in all the light from this world and consume it. Upon the creature's head rests a crown of amethyst and gold, twisting and gnarling in many directions as whispers in languages that teasingly sound like words on the tip of one's tongue beg to be understood.
Her mind screams at her to move. Having noticed the rapidly closing distance of those things, her bulky, six foot five form lurches down the steps, planting a power-armoured boot firmly on the ground to lock her in place. The trigger of the flamer is pulled. It is impossible to tell what roars louder, Clare or her weapon. The flames sweep through a wide swathe of the depression, flicking their purifying fire against the creatures of the warp and scorching the life-or-death paperwork of the administratum. Such a terrible… perfect… place for a flamer.
Several of the daemonettes let out unnatural shrieks, not immune to the sheer determination of Sister Jezzarin. Her hair flicks forward, temporarily obstructing her vision as a bolter round, then another, sails past her, the battle-sisters having joined the fray. Her arms steady, the bulk of her heavy flamer not a bother for her as her painting of the canvas of war is smooth. And beautifully she does paint, as within the first few seconds of combat several of these unholy abominations lay dead.
"The master of man demands your death, spawn of the unholy! Be purified in the flames of his righteous daughters!"
Clare yells, the contents of her flamer now empty.
With expert precision and disciplined speed, she smacks the canister, release it and clattering it against the ground with a metallic clang. She reaches for her reloaded canister only to be shocked—
They move so fast is all her mind is able to register as one of the creature's claws slams into her flamer, grasping the weapon and wrestling her for it. Catching it between the bumps of it's wretched claw, with a sickening crunch, her tool of war cracks— but this leaves her foe open. Her hand shooting forward, an armoured gauntlet grabs the back of the daemonette's head, the thumb of her gauntlet pressing directly into the creature's obsidian eye, and with a growl and spring of her back foot, the combination of her grip strength and body mass pierces the skull through the socket with a satisfyingly righteous crunch.
The time for her minor victory soon passes as another one of the foes leaps from a table toward her. She reaches to her scabbard and draws her blade, white-knuckling the hilt and squeezing the lever as hard as she can — even harder than her first training — and the chainsword revs, catching the daemonette's implanted blade of obsidian-like bone. It yowls a hiss at her, cursing in it's dark-tongue, making her head ring. Clare remembers her training, drowning it out with the mantras to the holy Emperor.
The sharp hooves of the creature landing on her, She is pounced upon, but, with a grunt, withstands the blow refusing to be knocked over, refusing to be the one to faulter. The scorpion-like tail of the daemonette attempts to stab her, with the only recourse being able to grab the tail of the warp-spawn and hold it back. Their blades locked as her chainsword revs. Beads of sweat— both from the innate terror a human feels facing creatures that attack the soul, and of pure exertion— run down her skin. Unfortunately the sister fights dirty, and tips her weight forward, a risky strategy that does ultimately pay off as the daemonette is smashed into the ground by the collapsing, power armoured sister. She savagely starts to beat on the daemonette, grasping at it's joints and succeeding in ripping it off, taking the same obsidian limb blade once used to threaten her and jamming it directly down the daemonette's throat.
Such victory comes at a cost. With a thunderous crack, her eyes widen in sheer terror, and pain wracks her body as the herald, the one that wore the crown, has unfurled a wicked whip. It drools and slathers and makes the most disgusting of noises as it flicks against her, the energies of the warp cracking out from it like a sonic boom. When it hits her, it also licks against her power armour, the acid melting through the ceramite, causing her to drop to the ground. The second blow is far worse— the sharp barbs at the edge of the tongue-whip dig into her skin and wrap around her spine itself. She shrieks, howling as— with a wicked, sickening pop— several of her vertebrae and her lower spine snap, being wretched out of her. It is only through the Emperor's grace that the top half of her spine remains, her vision going black, as what can a mortal do against such horrid wounds?
When she wakes— God-Emperor, why did she have to wake?— the sight before her is horrible. Many of her sisters lay dead, and the ones that still live wish they had perished. She can hear their screams and sobs as they are tortured in the ways that only the servants of the prince of 'pleasure' can. She is unable to move her body, laying in a pool of her own blood. The only thing her paralyzed body can feel is dread.
Nineteen remain. Their vile forms are visible in the glowing red silhouettes of the prey-sense module. Calculating their nearest trajectory, an estimated thirty seconds to contact. Friendlies in the vicinity: Three. Those that can be redeemed: One. Standard mercy protocols shall suffice for those lost in body to the Emperor, their souls to be freed. The lumbering footsteps, a portent for his arrival. Deep breaths hissing as hydraulics begin to activate. Battle shall commence momentarily. Deploying motive-force countermeasures. 01010100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01110010 01101111 01110011 01100101 01110100 01110100 01100101 00100000 01110011 01110101 01100110 01100110 01100101 01110010 01110011 00100000 01101110 01101111 01110100 00100000 01110100 01101000 01100101 00100000 01100100 01100001 01100101 01101101 01101111 01101110 00100000 01110100 01101111 00100000 01101100 01101001 01110110 01100101 00101110.
Clare's attention is torn away from her impending doom, hearing the hulking footsteps approaching from beyond— the ground creaking, stone cracking, before there is silence, and the lights in the building flicker and die, plunging the cavernous room into pure darkness. No windows to shine clarity, no emergency lightning, the only source of light is the daemon's glowing weaponry, and suspended from between two of the megalithic shelves —it has to be suspended, it's about twenty feet up— two central red eyes in a humanoid layout burn with malicious intent before being joined by a dozen others floating ominously in the void.
The darkness is pierced violently by three glowing orange, almost magma like rings, that spin for a brief second before coalescing into three separate beams, firing into the darkness. She watches as it hits the daemonette closest to herself, the lilac flesh of the daemon combusting into ash and jetting fire from her ichor. Two more fall in the same manner, and that brief flash is enough to illuminate the figure. Two mechadendrites stretch, having embedded themselves into the shelving units. Ten more mechadendrites hang free— three of them hold volkite weaponry, while the others have flexible, knife-like pincers that blossom like flowers on the end, spinning in a circular motion ominously. Set within each of the artificial limbs rests an ocular implant— a glowing red eye.
The figure is cloaked from head to toe in dull-red robes of the mechancium, the colour having long since faded and wearing no badge of rank. The stranger moves quickly. His steel parts begin moving with preternatural speed, launching himself into the darkness, the light from the volkite weapons fading fast. She can follow him in the dark with her eyes. The mechadendrites with blades seem to glow in impossible colours that make her head hurt once more to look at, but she cannot bring herself to tear away her gaze. She watches this hulking steel monstrosity move with mortifying efficiency and ruthless grace, the blades hacking and tearing into any of the daemons unfortunate enough to get close.
One in particular is rather gruesome, the daemon jumping at him as a mechadendrite shoots out, spearing it in the abdomen as the others descend, stripping her of her flesh to the bone like she had been picked clean by carrion birds, before being banished back to the warp. Ichor stains his clothes like purple ink as the herald challenges him. The air splits and cracks with violent intention and the power of the warp. The herald of Slaanesh strikes toward him with reckless abandon and haunting grace. Flowing like a mighty indomitable river, her whip flies… only to be caught on the refractor field, repulsed in a spraying shower of sparks that befuddles the mind and blurs the vision— but not enough to conceal one of the mechadendrites pierce the side of the herald's head and expand outward to it's full blossom, spraying chunks of daemon across the room. Two more volkite shots fire, instantaneously delivering mercy to the two damned souls.
The attention of this mechanical man now focused solely on Clare, the low flames of the vellum burning from her earlier contribution to the purge let her view him. His form is large, bulky— far too massive to be called a tech-priest. He stands at around seven feet five inches, his augmented legs clearly visible from the bottom of his robes, the feet replaced by talons. He speaks, his voice a low rumble, emanating from his diaphragm before being carried the rest of the way by his vox, infusing it with a gravelly electronic hiss.
"Throne-daughter. Do not be afeared, for you are now in my exquisite hands."
He lifts up his arm, sliding it out from under the bulky robes. It is a mixture of sinew and steel. What flesh is there is bulky, and one can easily imagine that these steel-tipped extremities of his fingers were once the fleshy digits for a hand that could be described as a bear-like paw. Several of the mechadendrites move in tandem to lift her as she passes out once more, the adrenaline having worn off.
There will be smut here! I am unwell about 7 - 10 foot tall superhuman mutant soldiers!!
Hi I'm Cat! Worms are in my brain and control my limbs, forcing me to write smut and draw pictures of superhuman mutant soldiers! I'm 30 and work in tech from home, where I doodle and write when I'm supposed to be doing Job (tm) ✨️
I have ADHD and Dyslexia, so my updates likely come in waves of a whole bunch of content and then nothing for a while, and I work really hard to reread and use spell check programs on my work but spelling and grammar mistakes will get through.
Feel free to drop ideas or questions or anything in my asks :) drawing and writing requests are listed as open or closed below. DM me if I miss a tag or anything too!
Enjoy being Unwell (tm) with me
-Cat
REQUESTS (for art)
[OPEN]
REQUESTS (for writing)
[CLOSED]
ASKS (for HCs, Questions, Ideas etc)
[Always OPEN do not be shy :)))]
𝓜𝔂 𝓒𝓸𝓶𝓹𝓵𝓮𝓽𝓮 𝓜𝓪𝓼𝓽𝓮𝓻𝓵𝓲𝓼𝓽
TAGLIST REQUEST LINK
Ao3 :: Non-WH40k Art Blog
Bluesky :: Twitter
Linktree with discord, instagram etc. links
Main blog- if you see mostly-cats following you that's me hello :)
✦ Hello! I'm Misty. I'm an constantly exhausted Software Engineering student and luster of men in varying types of armor, with a love for writing and drawing in my spare time. I have a deep love for video games, so many things here will be in that area.
Writing gets posted around once or twice a week, but it might be more or less depending. I also tend to post things that aren't in my main wheelhouse to Ao3, so feel free to go give that a look if you're interested in some more niche content.
- Requests are closed. Any formal requests are getting deleted.
✦ 𝕸𝖞 𝕸𝖆𝖘𝖙𝖊𝖗𝖑𝖎𝖘𝖙
𝕬 𝖋𝖊𝖜 𝖗𝖚𝖑𝖊𝖘…
✦ Please be respectful here: My goal is to keep my blog a positive place, so be polite and avoid sending in unironic character/media/fic hate, 'ship discourse'', or any other fandom wank. I don't care about any of it.
✦ Any and all material will be tagged accordingly, please exercise discretion with content you don't want to see. If something isn't tagged and you believe it should be, please comment on the post.
✦ I cannot do/am not inspired by every request, sometimes I will take awhile, and sometimes I may not do something exactly how you want. Please remember I am a human writing for fun between work and college.
✦ BE 18+. Even if all my stuff isn't NSFW, I don't feel comfortable having underage users here, I ask you to respect that. If I catch you following, interacting with my works or trying to chat me up, you will get blocked.
✦ All in all, just behave. This is a nice little library, so I ask you to be on good behavior and not make a mess of the place.
✦ Current fandoms that are circulating around here are Darksiders, Warhammer 30/40K, and Elden Ring. Will there be random things? Yes, but this is what I'm into most at the moment.
✦ Common tags:
[Misty's book club] For asks about various headcanons, scenarios, or just chitter chatter about characters.
[mywriting] Is self explanatory.
[For the Library] Writing that isn't mine that I really enjoyed.
I also tend to tag any long conversations and musing between all of us with a specific tag so people can go back and read the HCs. For instance our musings about Lorgar and his beloved vs Kor Phaeron is [The Lorgar Aurelian Family Drama Plotline]. Getting Bullied by Cato Sicarius timeline and The Emperor ‘Droit du siegneur’ plotline are other examples.
Hello & welcome to my new and improved swanky MAIN blog oooOOoo! You can call me Pear or Specs! I post my own writing irregularly but boy am I consistent with my reblogs and tags. Not doing requests at this time, but I might later. Inbox is open for fun & shenanigans tho if you wanna drop any in there!
This is a strictly 18+ blog and I'm trusting all my visitors to respect that. If i find out any minors are interacting with my posts I will block and that's final, please respect this boundary.
Look around, enjoy some fics, look at my old side blog, but mind the warnings, friends!
My old archive blog is @bispecsual-archived in case you wanna see my old posts!
⟣⟢◯⟣⟢Warhammer 40k⟣⟢◯⟣⟢
⬩Dress to Impress: Blood Angel/Fem!Remembrancer Reader
within the warp, anything is possible. the mind is a webway of its own. this is simply a documented recollection of happenings within the great unknown, a place to remember and relive - a guide to solspina’s blog
requests: CLOSED
waitlist: 7
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i have decided to reset my blog, and therefore have reset my asks as well! because of this, i will be opening my inbox to requests. please send something in! i’d love to write your ideas out :D
please read the rules before requesting from me, and please be kind when asking!
18+ preferable. I mostly write fluff and do not take requests for explicit smut, but NSFW themes may be requested and incorporated into certain works
be respectful. im all for being a chill and laid back blog, but not tolerate any harassment toward myself, others, or this community. we are here to have fun.
I write mostly in 3rd person. i say this because i would like my work to be accessible to everyone! whether it be self insert or OC insert. if you want specific pronouns used, ask!
be specific! i want to produce works that YOU enjoy reading! because of that, please be as specific as possible when requesting, and i will do my best to give you the elements you ask for!
Masterlist
Space Marines
omission in angelism - luis dante
absolution in angelism - luis dante
into good night - mephiston
Primarchs
where is a line for justice drawn? - magnus the red
never again will i be gone - roboute guilliman
Bonus
curze thread
Taglist
for those of you who wish to be tagged in new works!
Hi decided to actually make a masterlist because it's probably for the best.
Things to know: I will write from a mainly female pov/perspective and it will for the most part be monogamous hetro relationships (in the terms of genitals) I won't do fxf or mxm or trans because that's not how I grew up and I'm god awful at writing homosexual sex (genderbend I can do)
Another no: Adultry/cheating/spouse(or partner) thievery
Asks are open
Come buy me a coffee
Number of asks waiting to be answered: 15
My Ao3 (I havent updated a story on there since like 2016 I'm scared to even let ya'll see it but I might post the AU on there)
So I mainly write Halo, Runescape, and Warhammer 40k but here I've only been posting my Warhammer 40k and D&D au
So expect a lot of polls because it helps focus my ADHD ass
Also Fanart is ALWAYS allowed! Just Tag me!
PLACE WHERE YOU CAN ASK TO BE PUT ON TAG LIST
Poll Storage
Pheromone Spray poll part 1
First kiss part 2
Pheromone Spray part 2
Husbandry lewdness poll
First Kiss part 3
How to tag the lewd poll probably going with carnal bond
Should momrad include skin tone
WIP poll
Help momrad focus on what to write
Ones ready to be typed
Adhd helper poll
WIPs
Warhammer 40k
The D&D AU
The Yandere Black Templar and Flesh Tearer
The Yandere Space Marine Masterlist
Story Vault until I know where to put these stories/how to categorize them
The boys and their darlings
This is not Canon mini masterlist
Primarchs masterlist
Pheromone Spray 1 2
Bonus Zul Spray
Song Inspiration
First Kiss 1 2 3
Typhus fleas 1 2
Baseline hitting on the darlings
Varial the insatiable
Lamenters devouring
Raven in the belfry
Child in the Eyrie
First Words Can Damn You
The black rut
Lucius the Eternal plus art
Warhammer Fantasy
Dangerous Druchii pending
Warhammer 40k & COD
The COD Integration mini-masterlist
Demon Prince/Bloodthirster Graves
The 40k au
How does Horangi spend the thrones? Horangi focused
Lieblings König focused
Spirit Halloween Ghost focused
Hey Kiddo Price focused
Where do babies come from reply
Hail to the King Black Templar König
Everyone is space elves
COD
The mud pit cope fic
Hot Chocolate cope fic König focused
Missing the Bairn cope fic Soap focused
Zombie cope fic Ghost focused
He scares me Nikto focused happens before the Soap one
It's a wonderful life CODHoliday2023 fic angst-comfort Ghost
Age hcs/boys ages
Random romantic thing I wrote
Tanz mit mir Regency Au songfic
Halo
Most of it is on my Ao3
Random
The eventual bringing over that one non con I wrote pending
I have to edit it
The #I wrote something for my tumblr can help too
Sentience base off of lancer but I really just like the Balor
Baby fluff
barn anon/Tales from the Barn/Space Marine Husbandry Sentience
I will rename this when I can sit and think of better titles for them
Space Marine Husbandry Sentience Plot Beats
Space Marine Husbandry Sentience Mini Master List
51 more Space Marine Husbandry Sentience & Tales from the Barn
Hey Look another Space Marine Husbandry Mini Masterlist
s-u-f-j-a-n-s-t-e-v-e-n-s
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andulkaphoto
amandla
germansingergirl
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izzy806
turnnoffyourmind
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