You Can Find Me Where The Sea Pours Into The Stars
@gh0st-nebulae
Names Nebula. This has become a Warhammer side blog and a few other things sprinkled in there. She/Her, 31. 🔞 I follow from @nebulaegem I’m into x reader stuff and try to tag it but if it’s not your thing stay away ig Asks are open, request a doodle if you want.
I know other people have talked about this, but I was thinking today (while writing "Mother" pt. 2 of all things) about Sanguinius, and the weight he carries upon his grand shoulders.
Sanguinius is the golden child. He's the one everyone points to and says "Him, he's the standard we all should live up to. He is perfection. He is The Great Angel."
He's beautiful, warm, and kind, with a mixture of both intelligence and wisdom that makes him the perfect leader. Everyone looks up to him- even some of his brothers (whether they admit it aloud or not).
He is talented in so many ways, and the image of him with his great wings is so wonderous that no one could ever forget. Even if history was destroyed, Sanguinius would remain in humanity's memory.
He knows this. He carries this with him every day.
Sanguinius holds the impossible weight of even more impossible expectations and somehow still manages to succeed. And that only makes the weight heavier.
He has the love of his father and brothers, but these burdens cannot be shared. He cannot show himself to be weaker or Less Than, simply because he cannot be those things.
No one can see the edges of darkness that occasionally eat at him. No one can see the way he curls into himself when he's alone and struggles to breathe. No one can see how he pulls his own feathers out when overly stressed or anxious.
They cannot see how badly his thirst for blood truly is. And how he fears that if he lets go, his sons will let go, and he cannot have that happen. He cannot disappoint everyone like that.
Because their failure is his failure, and Sanguinius does not fail.
Sanguinius cannot fail.
Anyway, this all came from the idea that Sanguinius has panic attacks and would be the absolute hardest primarch to get to open up and be "himself" because he doesn't even really know who that is anymore.
He wears his mask of perfection every day and if he ever let it slip, he's left believing that the Empire would fall.
I've been enjoying the running theme of Angron being scared your free will would be taken away in one form or another. Would you consider writing a deeper dive into that? Either a ficlet or just some points maybe?
Hey @missmannequin, I can try!
Yeah, so for me, it all stems, cliché as it is, from the fact that Angron was a slave. Someone without any rights, forced into doing things he did not want to do. And he was surrounded by people who were forced to do the same thing. And perhaps those people had lives before, so he saw what it does to a person to have a life and then be forced into losing it. And I suppose it is one of his greatest fears.
Add the Nails to that, and it has been compounded, and it truly made him do something he regretted, something he had never wanted to do, and it leaves scars on the soul.
Plus, Angron is empathetic. If you read through the books, it is, well, at least for me, sort of a subtext that he was always meant to be an empath Primarch. So he still feels deeply, even if it is mostly rage and anger.
But now he found you. Again, cliché as it is, you are sole light in his life. He is scared that if you are taken away, this light will be taken from you and twisted into something different. Not necessarily darkness, but it just would not be you anymore. And selfish as he is, he does not want to lose you. Empathetic as he is, he does not want you to lose yourself.
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Hey! I now have more here! (and here)
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+Taglist (if you want to be added - let me know, I suck at not-direct communications): @beckyninja, @the-mysterious-detective, @randomlyappearingartist, @nereidof40k, @bookandyarndragonwritesdark, @renegadesyx, @incrediblethirst, @omg1wanttidd1es-sb, @stpdeletacc, @baldieboi , @acgames, @veryspecificreason, @jackalwolfsoul, @hopefully-grimderp, @acexsmhking, @trackerkitsune, @catabibaz0n , @subtlepoisonknowledge, @yyourmotherr, @riokunova, @marcela2000, @f1shz , @rogalist-of-dorns, @aggresivemenace, @passionofthesith, @t-boneless, @tea-ring, @nightlordlover, @lithiummoonfox, @warhorny-on-main, @candorarchives, @mehiwilldoitlater, @boxguy2bear, @pippinsquishums, @loverofbumblebees
I’d like to request seeing more perturabo and the slug cat he swore he did not want and does not like please! It’s always such a fun dynamic, keep up the great art!
It’s always a good day when somebody asked me to draw a Primarch cuddling a slug cat! Bo will spend large amount of time designing the perfect slug cat habitat, for when he could not personally be snuggling his precious new friend!
Also cute Nurglings and Beasts of Nurgle heal my soul.
Painting heat effect on the lava too, fun! Using coal brush for the taxic gases? A walk in the park. Sticky goat's milk is slightly less fun—
We shall not mention Sadako/Samara or The big Sheep Lion Cow thing. Also, Lorgar's Daemon form is a pun. He is a Sheep, easily misled, but Also a predador, a Lion, and a Cow, a sacrifice and a Golden Bull. A good friend suggested he should have like grey paper like skin covered in scribbles, and now I need to do that next— but for now this works.
Still hate him, though.💅🏾
Also a God of War Ragnarok Reference!
These are more simple and easy to read than my usual renderings, but were a Delight to draw. Simple composition, abstract bamboo and all. They are all 2625x3500, done 100% on Ibis Paint X!
I have had a dream with Lorgar again 🧍♀️(I wrote it down in my notes app before I forgot lol) warning that my dreams have no coherent transitions from one thing to another so they literally just morph into different scenes
So it was another late to work dream but this time I was actually trying to get to work. It started with my brother taking me to work in his car but we were weirdly far from where we needed to be?? He did a lot of illegal shit trying to get me there that it stressed me out. It evolved into us being on an absolutely huge travel bus that was functioning as a public bus. The bus was extremely packed and my brother was still with me but we were sharing a seat with Lorgar. He was between us and I was on the aisle seat. The bus ride itself was achingly slow but not for what you expect. We were traveling through caves, jungle and medieval streets but the bus driver was also fighting with monsters and Dinosaurs???every couple blocks. All while in the bus too and trying to get us to our destinations. The fights were very much like a video game.
Anyway I was still stressing out because the fights were taking so long and all the while Lorgar is next to me chatting at me about how it would be fine. Towards the end of the trip he started getting cuddly by holding me around my middle and nuzzling into me with his big ass head. Did not think much about it cause I was worried bout how late it was lol. It did feel nice. At some point the ride morphed into me back in my room because I realized I hadn’t CHANGED to go work. Lorgar was still with me and offering to take me there instead. (He was not in the room while I changed) I woke up because I got too frustrated trying to put on my clothes.
Before the salt burns your eyes (Mer!Vulkan x reader): Chapter 7
This fic is crossposted on AO3.
Chapter Masterlist.
Word Count: 3k
Summary: You have a great sleep! And also other shenanigans with Mercedes.
Chapter 7: beam me up, biscotti
Your eyelids are slightly sticky with salt as you open them again. It's warm in your little nest, and you decide to close your eyes again. You wriggle in the sand to get comfortable again, until your back hits against a very solid wall. You pause, taking in the temperature change, and realize that the wall is, in fact, breathing.
Your eyes shoot open, and you crane your head backwards to see that Vulkan has partially entered into your nest. You're curled up against his chest in the sand. He's not looking at you, instead he's watching your surroundings, and relief washes over you. Along with a rising blush, because why are you tucked against his chest.
He finally looks down, and in a tone you can only describe as tender, he quietly asks, "How did you sleep?"
Rubbing your eyes, you move to sit up a little. You feel incredibly well rested, despite the fact that you just took a nap in a sandy hole.
"I slept well, thank you," you say, before your eyebrows scrunch in confusion, "Not that I'm complaining, but how did you end up in here?"
Vulkan's eye membrane blinks, and he responds, "You were shivering. I promised to watch over you, and that includes being cold. It seemed the most efficient method."
Oh! Well that is…very kind. Your brain is currently blue screening while you process that information. Obviously, you decide, Vulkan doesn't understand the implications of you waking up against him. It was a lovely feeling though— you felt very cared for.
You dip your head, and smile, "Well, thank you. I feel a little better now."
Vulkan smiles, and his tail swishes in the water. You stare at the sky, and realize that you've been sleeping for a much longer time than you'd thought. Then your hear the distinct sound of a truck pulling in at the top of the cove. Vulkan's head moves quickly to scan around as you scramble up, sending sand fly.
You whip around and hurriedly explain, "I think my friend Mercedes is looking for me. I'm going to go before she spots you— thank you again, I'll come back tomorrow!"
Your mer-friend nods, and you begin brushing the debris off your clothes as you walk away from the shoreline. Mercedes' red hair is easily spotted as she rounds the edge of the trail and sees you. Her ponytail bounces as she strides down to meet you. You suppose, given the lack of reaction, that Vulkan has hidden. You wave at her, and she smiles back.
"Hey," you greet, "You good?"
She looks you up and down, then snorts, "Apparently not as good as you— what did you do, roll around on the beach?"
You shrug, "Yeah, pretty much."
Her eyes soften, "You feeling better? I saw you left your phone back at the house and I wanted to come check on you."
You hum, then respond, "Yeah— loads. I got a good nap in."
Mercedes reaches over to tug at a lock of your hair, which causes sand to dump all over your shirt. Snickering, she says, "I can see that— I think you're more sand than person right now."
"I feel more sand than person," you retort.
She slings an arm over your shoulder, "Alright then Sandman, what do you say to showering and then we go out to eat? A regular night out on the town."
"Hell yeah," you shoot back, returning her gesture by slinging a sandy arm over her as well, "Where are you thinking?"
She sighs at the dirt on her clothes, "I was thinking that new place on the boardwalk— Captain Clark's?"
You raise an eyebrow, "The burger joint?"
"Yeah! Supposedly they have some killer seafood too— those fried oysters are calling my name."
The two of you make it back up to the top of the path, and you glance back. All you see is a familiar fin going in lazy circles in the water. Smiling, you face forward and climb into your friend's truck as the two of you discuss your evening plans.
You shower, and laugh to yourself about the amount of sand that comes out of your clothes and undergarments and gets on the floor. You'll have to vaccum that up later. You scrub your skin clean, and feel light as your step out of your steam-filled shower. It's like the weight that was on you had drained away with the water. You pick an outfit that's a little nicer than what you might normally wear. Not date nice, but better than a tshirt. It's a cute sundress with seashell print on it. You don shell jewelry just to stick with the theme.
Mercedes finds your ensemble incredibly funny as you emerge from your room. She attempts to hide it by covering her face, but you can see her shoulders bouncing.
"What?" you ask, looking for something on your outfit.
"I thought you were leaving the mermaid getup at your job?" She comments.
You toss your hair and wink, "Being a mermaid is a full time gig. I could never leave it behind."
The drive to the restaurant is uneventful, the two of you sitting in casual silence as the radio plays a local station. Captain Clark's restaurant winds up being a busier place than you'd expected. There's so many people milling about in there that you shoot a longing glance towards the mostly empty pier before Mercedes drags you inside.
Inside, it's a lovely affair. There's big windows to one side that show off the ocean, while the massive bar that has bottles that glisten in the low lighting. Somehow they've managed to balance upscale and casual, and you can't help but stare at the coral themed chandelier that hangs directly in the center of the main dining room. Whoever opened this place must have some money to back it, because as you're seated you see custom carved chairs and dinnerware.
The menu is extensive, but not (as you'd previously assumed) expensive. The two of you get drinks. Mercedes goes with a cocktail, while you wind up with a mystery mocktail that tastes slightly fruity with a bubbly texture. You play with the umbrella that came in it while looking around the room. The wallpaper is gorgeous, but your eyes land on the massive aquarium on the far wall.
All the fish in it are staring at you.
You stare back, face wrinkling in confusion. Mercedes stops mid sip, and turns around to see what you're looking at.
"Uh," she starts, "Do fish normally do that?"
You blink, "No. Not that I'm aware of."
"Are they… looking this way?"
Fiddling with the umbrella, you mutter, "Yeah, I think so."
The two of you quit looking when your server arrives, and you place your entree order.
Sliding your chair a bit, you go to stand, saying, "I'm going to investigate."
Your friend shakes her head and you pause.
"What?" you ask.
She sighs, and stirs her drink idly, "Have you ever noticed that you have a bad habit of checking out weird stuff?"
"I wouldn't call a fish tank weird," you sniff, still halfway between standing and sitting, "And I don't do that!"
Mercedes fixes you with a hard, unimpressed stare, "Yes you do."
You start, "Name one time-"
Apparently it's been on her mind, as Mercedes cuts you off and begins counting on her fingers as she rattles off events, "The sandpiper, the sharks, the netting with dragged up. The fishtank. And that's just the recent stuff— not to mention the entire vibe of that cove you go to. It's so weird."
Well, maybe she has a point. Unfortunately for everyone involved in this conversation, you're in the business of doubling down.
"It's not weird," you snap, half because the cove is your space, and half because you feel the need to speak up on Vulkan's behalf.
Her eyebrows lift, "Dude. You cannot tell me that place isn't creepy. It gives me the heeby jeebies every time I go down there. I have no idea how you slept there today."
"It's not-"
"I feel like something is watching me whenever I go there," she hisses.
Squaring your jaw, and becoming uncharacteristically serious, you state, "Mercedes, if there's something you'd like to say, I would prefer you just say it, instead of me having to guess."
Her eyes narrow, and she leans forwards, fingers lacing together as she props on the table.
"Alright," she deadpans. Then Mercedes drops a metaphorical grenade right in front of you.
"I know you almost drowned two weeks ago."
What. What. What.
You stare at her, mouth agape like the fish in the aquarium. Actually, you'd been so focused on the merman aspect of that day that you'd completely missed that part of your story. You have a rapidfire flasho f thoughts that range from telling the entire truth to trying to gaslight her.
What does come out of your mouth is a strangled "…How?"
You sit all the way down in the chair as she pinches the bridge of her nose in frustration, before looking back at you.
"I was a lifeguard, remember? I've seen what people look like when they almost drown."
Ah, shit. How'd you miss that? You're gripping your chair arms so tightly that they might crumble.
You try to speak, but it fades as the words get stuck in your throat, "I don't…"
Mercedes grimaces, then says, "Listen, I haven't brought it up because you'd been going through a lot recently and I don't want to make things worse and pry. But I'm concerned. Sorry that the timing is bad, but I need you to know that."
You perk up a little, and finally seize an opportunity to add to the conversation, "You're right to be concerned, but you don't need to be. The ocean and I are friends."
Also the giant merman that you're friends with, but she doesn't need to know that part.
She looks at you, eyes sad, and says your name softly, "I've almost lost you twice to the ocean— I'm worried you won't be so lucky a third time."
You reach out a hand a touch hers, meeting her gaze again, "I understand. You know I won't stop going though, right?"
"I know," she says, giving your hands a squeeze back, "Just be safe, okay? You've got people rooting for you on land."
You nod, and the two of you sit in silence for a few moments. Then she retracts her hand and makes a shooing motion.
"Alright, I'm done being serious. Go look at your fish now," she grumbles, looking faintly embarrassed.
Flashing her a grin, you stand and head over. The fish are waiting for you as you get there, and you wiggle your fingers and coo at them. You step to the side to allow a little girl to come up and see, and the fish follow your movement in a swarm.
The girl looks at you with big brown eyes and frowns. You move again to the side, and they follow again.
Pointing a finger at them, you sternly say, "Let her see you too!"
She beams as they part into two groups, allowing her to investigate.
You lean over when she whispers to you, "Can you talk to fish?"
The image of Vulkan leaning on the sand flashes through your mind, and you have to tamp down your amusement as you whisper back, "Yes."
Her eyes practically sparkle as she asks, "Are you a mermaid?"
One of your favorite questions, especially from kids. You wink, "Of course! I come on land to visit my friends from time to time. It's not always fair for them to come to me, is it?"
The little girl vibrates with excitement, then runs off to who you assume are her guardians. She points in your direction, and the adults with her look at you. You wave, at they return the gesture.
You go back to your table and wait somewhat awkwardly with Mercedes. Your food is fantastic, and Mercedes shares her oysters with you. You trade part of your meal, and create a surf and turf experience. You know that the conversation you had will probably come up again, but she seems willing to let it slide, so you do as well.
The fish follow your movement as you go to leave, so you give them a wave and disappear around the corner. You and Mercedes decide to hit the ice cream parlor a little further down. You like it because they give out massive scoops of ice cream. It's a little tourist trap-y but it's so worth it.
You get three massive scoops of your favorite flavor in a cup and head outside to eat it. Mercedes gets through hers first, and goes into a crystal store that inhabits part of the boardwalk.
The pier calls for you though, so you separate from her to enjoy your sweet treat at the end of it. You hum as you lean on the banister, listening to the soothing sounds of the waves below you. There's a few other people dotted around, a few fishing off the side of the pier. It's peaceful.
It begins to drizzle a bit, but nobody pays too much mind to the weather change. You don't either— resolving to finish your dessert and head inside to meet with Mercedes. You've just about eaten it all, and are casually sipping from a water you'd gotten from the same shop when someone comes up beside you. You glance in their direction, but don't take in too much detail until they clear their throat and begin to speak to you.
"Hello there," a very, very familiar voice says.
You whip around to see the white haired man standing beside you. You stumble backwards, and in a panic you throw the water bottle at him. He catches it with ease, and doesn't seem to care that it spills all down his shirt.
He flashes sharp teeth at you, "Nice try, but-"
The speech is cut off by the abrupt entrance of your ice cream cup hitting him directly in the face. Now that you've had time to process, and you know that Vulkan has your back, you're pissed.
"What the hell are you doing here, you son of a bitch?" you hiss, the muscles in your jaw clenching.
That gets a reaction, and the man looks less than pleased as he wipes melted ice cream off his chin.
"That was unnecessary," he snarls, and gooseflesh ripples up your arms.
There's still a confidence you have though, with people around you. You snap, "You scared the shit out of me the other day— I don't know who you think you are with that seashell and your stupid spiel, but you should learn how to mind your own business."
Not that you know precisely what his business is, but the point remains.
He clicks his tongue, and sighs dramatically, "I was unaware that you were…acquainted with my brother, so to speak. It isn't often that one finds humans that have merfolk magic on them. My mistake."
You blink, then scowl, "I see. Why are you here then?"
He grumbles, "I was told I 'needed to apologize'."
You snicker a little at what you assume to be his Vulkan impression. His voice doesn't have the necessary baritone in it to create the proper effect.
"So," he continues, "I apologize."
That appears to be the best you're going to get, given that it looks like someone could be pulling his teeth out. You're not sure you want to accept it.
"Now I have apologized," the man says, holding out a hand with long, almost claw like nails, "Nice to meet you, human. My name is Fulgrim."
You stare at his hand like it might turn into a snake and bite you.
Fulgrim sniffs, then snidely remarks, "It's rude not to introduce yourself, you know."
You raise an eyebrow, "I think you know who I am."
Teeth flash at you again, then the nails dig slightly into your arm as he forces a handshake. His pupils shrink to slits that remind you that he isn't fully human.
"Don't piss me off," he scolds, although he seems very calm, "I'm not gentle like my brother."
Your lip curls, "I can see that."
His eyes narrow, and you roll yours. You say your name, and he lets go of you.
Fulgrim repeats your name, and then shakes his head, "I would have thought my brother would have picked a more impressive human, but alas."
He leaves absolutely no room for you to respond to that statement, striding away. You chase him all the way down to the end of the pier before you lose him. Damn him and his long as legs. Mercedes is waiting for you, having seen you try and run down the guy. You come over, grumbling about the situation. You'd like to rip out some of his hair. The nerve to comment like that!
Your friend looks at you, flabbergasted, "Who was that?"
You groan, "Some guy— his name's Fulgrim."
She whistles, "He's hot."
Sputtering, you reply, "That's the man from the other day."
Her face immediately scrunches in disgust, and she spits out, "Now why didn't you lead with that? I rescind my statement, he is not hot. In fact, he's downright atrocious to look at. Like a house on fire personified."
You jostle her shoulder and laugh at her reaction, "Mer, it's okay. He apologized for scaring me. I think."
Mercedes doesn't look thrilled, "Eugh, I guess.""
Deciding to change topics, you ask how her store was. She launches into an explanation on what she got as you head towards the parking lot. You're extremely tired by the end of the evening, and take a quick shower and go to bed. You stare at the curtained window, mind drifting towards Vulkan. Your eyes slide shut, but you can picture him still guarding you while you fall asleep.
Your dreams are peaceful.
A/N: Hi guys!! Sorry it's been a minute, my job's being wacky right now, and then I went on a camping trip with no service for a few days. On the bright side, I have most of chapter 8 done and a bit of lore and outlining done!! Most of this chapter was written with a pen and paper. Thank you to all the sweet comments, love you guys <3 stay hydrated
@incrediblethirst 's incredible rendition of Vulkan for the 2026 Warhammer Pinup Calendar!
haha I forgot to add the actual calendar part, under the cut
