#lamenter oc

[mooshs-crack-headcanons]

Nothing bad will happen to Limon, we have him dripped down with purity seals.

(His brothers complain when there are gusts of wind and they are behind him they constantly get hit in face with the long parchment paper. One of them choked and died from this. RIP Tony. Also tumblr why did you eat the quality, thats rude. Rude to Tony's memory.)

[ebonchalice]

LUCKY TO BE BY YOUR SIDE

Ship: Valerio (Lamenter OC) x Reader

Genre: Wholesome(?)

Words: 2,507 words.

Note: This is the debut of my first character for the Space Marine Husbandry AU, and a way for me to get back into writing stuff after a long, long time. English isn't my first language, so I apologize for any errors beforehand. But yeah, had fun writing it and hope it's just as fun to read. - EbonCha

Misfortune, a simple word really. Two mere syllables. It meant bad luck or an unfortunate event, something harmful or unpleasant that happens by chance. It could happen to anyone, perhaps a bit more to some than others to the extent that they gain an infamous reputation for being cursed with bad luck. Utter grox-shite luck.

Who would know that better than Valerio, especially after all the tragedies he had witnessed firsthand across numerous battlefields. Lived through. Suffered in. Their chapter was known to embody what it meant to be ‘cursed’, first in line in terms of adversity. Every single battle brother was well aware of this, from the oldest veterans to the freshly ordained brothers joining the ranks of the warriors clad in yellow ceramite.

There was a time when Valerio didn’t believe in such labels, brushing them aside as baseless rumors, back when he was a young marine recruited from a feudal world, he, sadly, could no longer recall. Of course, it didn’t take long for the reputation of their chapter to catch up with him. Proving time and time again just how true they were.

Was he proud of his chapter and all they stood for? By the Emperor, yes! Yes, he was. There wasn't a single day during decades of his service where he regretted being part of something so much bigger than himself, surrounded with the comradery of noble warriors he was proud to call brothers. Despite the countless misfortunes tailing them at every turn, he never complained about the poor cards they were dealt, always facing each adversity and loss with utmost honor.

At least not until he met you.

Suddenly being thrown across time and space, Valerio had been more than shocked when he ended up on ancient Terra. At least, ancient by their standards. To say he had a hard time coming to terms with this odd reality would have been an understatement, it took him a few days to even adjust to all the changes. But, once he was more ‘accepting’ of his predicament, he tried his best to get along well with the others and be helpful where he could be.

Those at the Astartes’ base he stayed at, near the outskirts of the city, were kind enough to shelter him and teach him about this era. Thus, he offered to assist them where he could, both out of gratitude and to pull his own weight around as much as possible.

During one such tasks, he had been helping deliver some medical equipment and instruments to a hospital, none to his understanding since he wasn’t much of an apothecary. That was where he first met you, his charge. His bond, as he had learned from others what it was called.

You were there, standing outside a baseline doctor’s office, shuffling through a bundle of papers in your hands. One eyebrow was raised just the slightest bit, arched in concentration as you went through whatever was on those papers. Perhaps it was because you stood in his path, oblivious that you were blocking him, or it was the fluorescent light bearing down on you like an artificial, white halo, but he found his footsteps halting right before you.

Valerio didn’t mean to come off as intimidating, but he hadn’t been around long enough to actually learn much of the language people in this era spoke. The brother accompanying him on this little errand was also nowhere near in sight, likely still dealing with his end of the task. Needless to say, he wasn’t exactly in a rush either.

Only when you noticed the larger shadow falling over you, did you look up from the papers. Up and up, till your eyes met a pair of honeyed brown orbs. Even now, as he fondly recalled the memory, he still doesn’t know just what kind of expression he had on his face then. Whatever it was that made you smile at him that day. But that was the first day he encountered the one who would soon become the most cherished, endeared person to him. One who’d worm her way past all his melancholy and raise a sanctuary, a peace he never thought he’d find.

“.. and I’m just a bit worried...”

Your voice reached his ears, slow and soft. You were resting with your back against the headboard, a pillow cushioning the curve of your spine. His head was resting over your chest, listening to the steady beat of your heart hidden behind the soft rumble of your voice. He was nearly draped over you like a comfy, weighted blanket. Your description, the first time you had ever cuddled.

The two of you had been discussing random bits of your day, something that had become a routine before bed. It just felt right to hear your voice before falling asleep, even as you blabbered about mundane things he wasn’t sure either of you would remember the next day. He simply could end his day without this.

“But,” your fingers brushed through his honey blonde curls, “it’ll be fine. I just know it.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, his voice came out muffled against the fabric of your shirt, earning him a soft giggle. Oh, how he melted every time he heard that fluttery sound.

That evening, your topic of discussion had started with your coffee, then your coworkers, then something you had seen on your way back home, before it turned to your surgery that was due tomorrow.

Valerio didn’t fully grasp what it was, too many medical jargons that flew past his head when you had explained to him the reason for your regular hospital visits. But he knew there was something cancerous growing in your lung, and he understood the gravity of the threat it posed. It wasn’t like he didn’t worry, quite the opposite in fact. It was partly the reason why you both had begun to cuddle in the first place, to soothe his worries and placate his concerns.

He even accompanied you to many of your appointments with the doctor, listening and learning what he could to help take care of you better. Fortunately, it was just at the early stage, something about it being local. It could be handled with surgery, though that was only a minor consolation if any. For his part, Valerio took it upon himself to ensure you were fit for surgery.

He watched over your diet, making sure you ate healthy. He even began keeping garlic and ginger away from your meals a week before surgery, as much as he could, lest they thin out your blood too much. On days you didn’t feel like getting out of your bed, he still managed to motivate you to exercise a bit. Even if it meant simply tagging him along for a morning walk. Totally because you needed the ‘fresh air’, and definitely not because of the sad, concerned look he’d develop on his face if you turned down his offer.

You had no complaints, of course. It was hard not to appreciate and adore this gentle giant who seemed to dote on you every step of the way.

By the time morning came, Valerio was already up and about as early as the sun, taking care of some minor household tasks that needed to be looked after. Cleanliness was vital for good health. Besides, it was the day of your surgery and he didn’t want you to put any unnecessary stress on your body. You needed to be relaxed and at ease as much as possible. For his sake, at least, because he was more than enough worried for the both of you combined.

Even when you were checked into the hospital, he felt this tense knot just below his chest, right above his abdomen. It was a strange feeling, but not an unfamiliar one. It was there whenever he thought about you and your condition. As you lay on the medical berth in your assigned room, talking to your parents who had shown up to support you a while ago, he brushed it off as mere concern for your well-being. Baseline humans were, after all, fragile in comparison to Astartes. Both, physically and biologically. And added to that was this illness that clung to your lung.

Valerio wasn’t allowed in the operating room, much to his disappointment, and had to wait outside with your parents accompanying him. They weren’t poor company by any means, and he didn’t dislike them, but had he been given a choice, he would have jumped at the chance to be by your side as you faced the daunting surgery. But his only consolation was the fact that it was generally done to avoid any foreign particles from entering the body during such a vulnerable state where it could easily be exposed to unchecked microscopic threats. Also, to prevent the risk of unnecessary interference or distraction to the surgeons that were operating on the patient.

Did it make him worry less? No.

To any passerby who might have seen him, he probably looked much the same as usual. Decades of training and indoctrination on self-control and composition didn’t just vanish overnight. But, underneath all that dolor poise, his usually organized thoughts were in a disarray, and he found himself constantly thinking about the operation that was being performed just a few doors away.

After tying up the materials used for their makeshift projection screen, Valerio put aside the neatly folded bundle. You had been packing up the few items that you’d brought earlier for your little movie night and stargazing ‘hangout’. He had discovered the spot during one of his fortnightly patrols around the neighbourhood and surrounding area. It was a small clearing, just lying between the outskirts of your neighbourhood and the forest, but surrounded by enough trees to provide a cozy, little spot.

You had brought a handy little projector that was apparently lying around your home from God knows when. One of those things you buy because you might need them, but never do until one, random day where you’re thankful you had it. The movie had been a fun activity, and he knew you had picked a film after much consideration just to make sure he’d enjoy it too. Truly, Valerio hadn’t been bored, although, it wasn’t the movie that he had been interested in.

It was a good choice, no doubt you had incredible taste, but he just couldn’t help his wandering gaze. Your reactions to the scenes playing out on the makeshift screen were entertaining as is. The way your lips cracked into a smile, a muffled laugh, eyes turning into small crescents – all that he had grown exceptionally fond of. Was it a surprise he was so worried over you? Ensuring that you remained safe, happy and healthy.

For all the misfortunes that dogged him, this felt like a balm over the aches. A reward, a sanctuary. All the bad luck the galaxy had to offer couldn’t stop him from choosing everything all over again, just to end up there. Again.

Once the movie was over, he joined you as you lay back on your picnic blanket, lying down opposite to you. The gap in the clearing allowed for an unobstructed view of the night sky. There weren’t many clouds in the sky that particular night either, allowing a clearer view of the stars.

For a while, only silence surrounded the pair. But it wasn’t uncomfortable. Far from it, actually. It felt peaceful, serene… Calm. He wasn’t trying to make it through enemy shellings, not rushing about to complete a mission, not constantly battling the nagging voice in his head that often urged him to rage.

Nothing. Nothing but quiet.

Eventually, the silence was broken by the sound of your voice, talking about the stars. But Valerio didn’t mind, your voice, despite soft, helped to ground him and prove that this was real. That he was actually here, on ancient Terra. Part of him felt guilt for enjoying the peace and the comfort he had here, especially since many of his brothers back in his time were still fighting, still facing the adversaries of mankind.

Oh, he knew that if he were to wake up in his original timeline the next day, aboard the battle barge, he wouldn’t hesitate for even a moment to continue with his duties. His purpose. But once his mind wandered, it kept wandering till it found its way to you, like it often tended to. Would you be upset if he were to leave? It was dangerous, where he was from. He absolutely couldn’t risk you coming to harm. Would you be upset if he were to?

He turned his head to the side, looking over at you. Your eyes were turned to the stars, reflecting the millions of twinkling lights in the far-off distance with a bright curiosity that hadn’t been tainted by the knowledge of what lay among them. Blissfully unaware. If only you knew of the horrors that lay beyond, ones he had to face before he ended up here. The ‘gentle giant’ next to you.

You heard the rustling next to you and looked to the side just in time for Valerio to lean over and press a kiss to your forehead. These affectionate gestures were still a bit foreign to him, but he had been growing fond of them with each passing day that he spent with you. Especially at how you reacted, your ramblings about the stars and everything beyond had been brought to a screeching halt. It warmed something in his two hearts as he watched you fumble over your words, trying to find your voice again. It was... endearing.

The only thought on his mind as he settled back down, was how he wouldn’t let you come to harm. You didn’t need to learn of the horrors. Not when he’d be there to fight them off should any ever threaten even a single strand of hair atop your head. Thus, he began to sate your curiosity about the stars with vague stories and tidbits from his own journeys between the stars. Minus the horrors, of course. Besides, he wasn’t really allowed to say much about what Astartes actually did.

The memory was still fresh in his mind, even months later. Not that he would ever forget, but also because he never wanted to. It was one of the many moments with you that he held close to his hearts as cherished memories, each one precious to him akin to a sacred relic in its own right.

Once your operation had been concluded, he joined you at your bedside, watching over your unconscious form. There weren’t any vacant Astartes sized chairs or sitting arrangements available for the time being, so he merely stood close by in the event you awoke and needed to be attended to.

Though, as he watched the rise and fall of your chest, it became clear that it would take you a while before you even stirred. The operation had been taxing and you were still under the effects of anesthesia, as your parents had informed him after talking to one of the female hospital staff in a white uniform that had come to check on you earlier. A nurse, he recalled.

It was fine, he could wait. Valerio wasn’t one to rush you. The anesthesia would wear off with time and you'd wake up soon enough. All he could do till then, was wait by your side.

Which was where he felt lucky to be.   

[sleepyfan-blog]

Day 4 -  Non-human Whumper

A/N: This is the next fic for whumptober 2025! List here. 

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @i-am-a-dragon34 @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan @bleedingichorhearts

@felinisnoctis @bookandyarndragonwritesdark

Warnings: canon=typical violence, minor character death, major character injury, ask me to tag if I missed anything!

Summary: Hagiel fights through swarms of tyranids with bolter and blade.

Hagiel rolled his shoulders and took in a breath. Even through the filtration system in his helmet, the vile stench of xenos blood and rotting meat was thick and heavy in his sensitive nose. The dense foliage of the feral jungle world that he and the strike team of newly blooded younger brothers had been deployed to was beset on all sides by tyranids.

The mortal population - what was left of them after they had desperately tried to fend off the ravening hordes of xenos scum for weeks before their desperate sos beacon had been heard by battle barge VDay 4 -  Non-human Whumperaliant Heart - were in the process of being evacuated off world and away from the tyranid hive fleet tendrils that threatened to consume everything in its eternally ravenous path of destruction.

The mission that Hagiel and his younger brothers have been charged with was to recover a lost relic-weapon from the underground cave network and return with it to the waiting drop-ship. 

That had been a ten-day and more hope than Hagiel should have gone into this mission with. But the claims that the gene-flaws of the legions had been corrected by the Voice of the Omnissiah had, up until this deployment, proven to be anecdotally truthful. None of his primaris born brothers seemed to suffer from the Wrath, the Melancholy, or the Thirst… Or the piss-poor luck of his chapter.

They had acquitted themselves well in battle. Had worked as a seamless team in finding and getting civilians to the evacuation points, and their drive to serve Him on Terra had been above reproach.

Even after swarm after swarm of rippers came down on them from the deeper parts of the jungles. Even as Victor's ambushed and tormented them by stealing civilians and leaving their bodiless heads, or severed torso as grisly Warnings.

But then Amicus went down to a Neurothrope that had unveiled itself and stunned him with a psychic scream long enough for the rippers to tear through his armor. 

Fennic, the closest to him, had howled in rage and broken cover, throwing himself against the xenos with wild abandon, slaughtering the swarm seconds too late. He had then fallen upon the neurothrope, tearing it into pieces with his gauntleted hands. He’d been dragged off, still howling his brother’s name by long tentacles.

Hagiel, Ullius, Timeno and Welasiel had given chase, trying to shoot the tentacles so that they would stop dragging Fennic away… But before enough damage could be done, a Carnifex came lumbering out of nowhere and stomped hard on Fennic’s chest, it’s armored claws ripping the young Astartes into pieces.

The three remaining primaris roared in challenge, even as Hagiel tried to get them to calm down - to remind them that taking out a Carnifex was best done at range… None of the three of them listened to him as they charged in with reckless abandon, chain-swords held high as they tried to kill the large, foul xenos monstrosity.

None of the Primaris had paid a moment’s attention to their surroundings, even as Hagiel desperately tried to get them to calm down, to understand that reason would see them through to victory. They were screaming the Arch-Traitor’s name, lost to the Black Rage that haunted all Sons of Sanguinius. 

Hagiel would have tranquilized them and prayed to the god emperor that when they woke they would be out of the rage, if not for the rampaging carnifex and the dozens of ripper swarms nipping at everyone’s ankles and knees. The four of them fought bravely, and his hearts lurched as he watched his younger brothers fall one by one to the massive swings of the Carnifex’s grotesquely oversized limbs.

The Lamenter sergeant had taken dozens of wounds, his armor badly damaged as he shot and stabbed at the endless tide of tyranids, stumbling back and away from the larger xenos scum, barely having any time to think as he kept stabbing and shooting. 

Eventually, Hagiel staggered backwards over something and fell hard, and the ripper swarms were on him in seconds, their teeth digging into his armor and flesh. He struggled to try and get up to his feet, but the fuckers had bitten through his lower leg armor and his achilles tendons, trapping him on the ground as the Carnifex leisurely lumbered towards him, howling a victory cry, echoed by the foul rippers still chewing on him.

Darkness descended as his breathing shallowed and the Lamenter’s eyes closed for what he was certain was the final time, agony ripping through his body.

[justaloreaddict]

Late evening TTRPG sketches of a Lamenter OC let's go

Corradin Sadraso, ever-chipper, always optimistic, maybe just a little bit crazy. Loves light, potentially too much.

Small text reads:

How'd you get the scars?

Nid cracked my helmet.

...

Sick

[sleepyfan-blog]

Banquet

Author’s Note: Hagiel’s No Good, Terrible Mission part 2. Originally this was part of chapter one, but it ended up over 6k words long, so I split it into two parts. Enjoy! Previous. Next

Playlist for this fic series: Spotify Youtube

Tagged: @undeaddream , @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: alcohol, flirting, references to the Red Thirst, canon-typical violence

Summary: Hagiel goes to the banquet. It goes great

word count: 2,893

There was live music playing in the banquet hall that Hagiel had been guided to by one of the Governor’s serfs after he’d gotten cleared up and changed into formal wear. The collar was bothering him, but Hagiel didn’t fidget with it, despite wanting to. He was going to be uncomfortable until he could change out of the too-thin and restrictive clothing. There were several dozen very well dressed and clearly wealthy mortals who were talking to each other. He was announced by the serf and the conversations stopped as he entered. Hagiel stepped into the room and gave them all a professional smile, relying on the meager political training he had been given “Good evening.”

Governor Shyrc looked up from where they were setting at the head of the large, ornately decorated table, and responded “Good evening, Lord Angel, Please come sit at my right hand.” 

Something niggled at the back of Hagiel’s mind about that, but he couldn't figure out what. Besides, he wasn’t sure how to take another spot without subbing the Governor nor displacing anyone else as there were exactly the number of seats available at the table as guests in the room. “My thanks, governor.” He made sure to move as softly as his large frame would allow, flashing closed-mouth smiles to mortals he passed, not wanting to unnerve them with his fangs. He didn’t recognize most of the mortals invited, though he did recognize Lady Sablescar, General Qvelt… And surprisingly enough. Xie Flint and vice admiral Egalth. “Good evening, Governor, how has your day been?”

“Busy with the reconstruction efforts of the city, how has yours been?” The governor responds, a small upward tilt of their lips.

“Busy as well. I focused on repairing the southern hospital. It’s currently partially functional, and should be repaired enough by the end of the week to be fully functional.” Hagiel responds with a small smile. Ideally it would be repaired by the next day or two, but he’d rather not tempt fate by saying that out loud.

“Why focus on one of the hospitals first?! We need to resume commerce as soon as possible in order to fiscally recover from the xenos raids!” One of the nobles whose names Hagiel did not know demanded, pouting a lavishly painted lower lip in his direction “The spaceport and surrounding infrastructure should be the highest priority!”

“Because there are quite a few injured people who are in need of medical aid, both among the civilians and the military casualties who protected this world, this system from the waves of xenos who tried to break our hold over this system, and grind us under their feet. Securing medical aid and ensuing that those who need it are tended to first is most important, though the spaceport is a high priority.” Hagiel gently corrected, raising one of his eyebrows fractionally at the sullen noble.

Vice Admiral Egalth spoke up “As we had explained to you earlier, the most critical parts of our infrastructure needs to be tended to first, and while our exports are a high priority, we need to tend to our people, before we can look to increasing profits.” There was censure in his voice that made the noble glare sullenly at him, the shining blue gems in her hair flashing in the candle light. 

She sniffed “As you say. But how are we to pay for these repairs? The cost of the materials surely aren’t going to just vanish into the ether.”

“We have emergency funds and stockpiles of supplies that are carefully maintained for exactly this kind of situation.” Governor Shyrc cut in, sending the whiny noble a sharp glare in silent reprimand.

“But must we use these funds on the lower classes? Surely we should-” A second noble started.

They were cut off by General Qvelt, who growled “It was us lower classes who fought and bled and died while you cowered behind your energy shields and personal guards and servants, waiting for salvation. It was us lesser people who held the line as  you fled in your fancy ships from this system while you tried to save your own skin, rather than stay and fight to defend what has belonged to your family for centuries, Lady Viskil.” 

There was a very pointed, very tense pause in the dinner conversations, as everyone collectively held their breaths, waiting for a response or reaction.

Hagiel broke the silence with a quiet hum “Well spoke, general. I remember losing four brothers to cover the retreat of your personal ship, against the Drukhari raiders. Can  you, in good faith, say that your life is worth the lives of four of my brothers?”

The Viskil’s answering glare was venomous enough to kill, were he a fellow mortal. Tellingly, she did not speak. Nor did anyone else.

Hagiel flashes them all a smile smile, this time with a hint of fang, shifting so that his sanguine eyes catch the candle light as the first course was served; in the shell of a local edible shellfish was a mixture of the shellfish itself, mixed with spices, fresh greens and cured with an herbal mortal alcohol. The shells themselves were a brilliant shade of pearlescent grey-white with shimmering flecks of gold in the shell. Hagiel was given five of them, though the mortals were served three each. “We should enjoy the dinner that Lord Shyrc has so thoughtfully provided for us.” The tension slowly left the room. 

He had no idea how to eat this food. Did he pop the whole thing in, shell and contents in one? They were certainly small enough to be a single bite for the astartes to consume, but… Most fancy nobles didn’t like eating things that were close to the texture and strength of bone, and these shells looked like they could be. 

Hagiel glanced surreptitiously at Lord Shyrc, who was already reaching for one of their oysters with a tiny spoon, scooping out the contents deftly, the rest of the guests following their lead, as the serfs poured them each small glasses of a dry, slightly bubbly white wine, likely meant to pair with the fishy dish. He quickly realizes that he is the only one who hasn’t started eating and hurriedly grabs the (absurdly tiny, in his hand) mother of pearl spoon,  belatedly realizing that it was not made of metal, and misjudging the amount of strength it would take to potentially damage the spoon. It cracked where his thumb and forefinger gripped it with an audible snap that brought all eyes to him.

“Is all well, Lord Angel?” Flint asked, mirth in xie’s eyes as the other looks him over.

Hagiel swore in his head as he tried not to panic, nor curl in on himself like a bashful and clumsy aspirant he felt like. “I. Ah. Accidentally broke one of the spoons. My apologies, Lord Governor. The utensil is a little… Small in my hand.” He slowly set down the two halves of the spoon, resisting the temptation to slowly ooze under the table in mortification.

General Qvelt snorts and drops the pearlescent spoon he’d been using to eat one of the prepared shellfish and grabbed it with a hand “I’ve broken more than one of these spoons before. I’ve said it before and I’ll say it again, the only way to eat oysters is straight from the shell all at once. None of this delicate groxshit.” With that he tipped the rest of the contents of the open shellfish half into his mouth, sending Hagiel a small wink.

“How gauche, general -” One of the other nobles started, their face twisting into a sneer of disdain.

Governor Shyrc cut the noble off by setting their own pearly spoon down louder than was necessary, picking up the partially consumed shell “And I agree with you. We’ve all had a difficult and long series of battles. To victory! And reconstruction of our fair city!” they called out, gesturing with the shellfish.

Everyone else hurried to follow suit, and Hagiel picked up one of his as of yet untouched shellfish halves, murmuring “To our victory!” and downing the concoction. As with other kinds of prepared mortal foods, the flavors were intense and much more complex than the nutrient paste that he was used to consuming - and the faint metallic tang on the back of his tongue did nothing but whet the insatiable appetite that all sons of Sanguinius struggled with to greater or lesser degrees. The textures were strange on his tongue, but overall pleasant. Nowhere near the number of calories he needed, but he hadn’t expected to be properly fed until he left for The Resolve later tonight.

~

Six courses of extremely complexly flavored food that did little to staunch the slowly maddening, aching thirst even as the mortals around him became increasingly louder and more boisterous as their own stomachs filled and the freely-flowing mortal alcohols loosened their tongues and minds was almost enough to overstimulate Hagiel’s heightened sense.

WIth the ever-present discomfort of the uncomfortably tight formalwear he was wearing that itched and tugged unpleasantly against his bandaged wounds and the fact that he had to politely dodge several handsy fellow dinner guests as the evening had moved on from food to tipsy (For them) dancing in the adjoining ballroom as more than a couple of them wanted to get a close up feel for what a space marine’s body was like without their armor, Hagiel’s patience and desire to tolerate their shenanigans was rapidly coming to an end.

Lord Amacius - the haughty noble from earlier - was on one side of him, flirting with anyone who moved and had tried to grab him three separate times - was attempting a pincer movement with Lady Viskil and Viscount Thelish, trying to corner him into either a dance or an attempt at drunken debauchery. The three of them were in charge of the sapphire mines, agricultural distribution and the promethium mines as the heads of their families who owned and controlled such things, so pissing them off needlessly at such a delicate point in time was dangerous. Not that Hagiel had quite resigned himself to being pawed at and drunkenly flirted with by inebriated mortals tonight. “Come now, Loooord Angel~! Surely you want to have a… Proper celebration?” Amacius slurred up at him, attempting to stalk towards the space marine, and mostly managing a graceless drunken stumble.

“I lost many brothers defending these worlds. White I am grateful for the victory we fought so hard to attain, I don’t feel much like celebrating, lord.” Hagiel answered, slowly backing away from the mortal man, silently hoping that someone would come and distract the entitled mortal fuck. “What were you doing during the battling?” 

“Hmmm? Oh, I was in m’clan’s bunker, alongside my family and our favored concubines and serfs while the fighting happened. M’ not much of a fighter myself. More of a lover…” Amacius purred, waggling his eyebrows ridiculously up at Hagiel.

Of course he was. Most noble mortals were trembling cowards when it came down to fight for the imperium, for Him on Terra. Hagiel kept his emotional reaction from showing. Objectively, Amicus was handsome - high cheekbones, strong chin-line. Deep smokey black eyes, salt and pepper hair. But his cowardice and personality while inebriated left much to be desired in Hagiel’s personal opinion. Not that he was going to say that out loud. He bit off any comments he had about the other’s cowardly hiding before he said it out loud. He was an astartes, yes. But he wasn’t some blunt-voiced son of Dorn who couldn’t be trusted near high ranking mortals without a short leash and a dozen phrases sternly ordered to stick to, no matter his temper or internal response. “I see.” He answered diplomatically.

“I’d be happy to show you the bunker. It’s really quite-” Amacius slurred out, before being interrupted by Lady Viskil, who walked up to him before stumbling off of her high heels, the sharp points catching on the long hem of her dress.

“Ahh! Someone help m- Oh! My darling hero! Thank you for catching me, Lord Angel. My, you’re quite strong.” Lady Viskil purred as she looked up into his face, as Hagiel had automatically moved to catch the baseline human before she fell all the way to the ground. She was also objectively beautiful - her eyes were augmented to change color based on her desire, and were currently a deep violet color with chartreuse highlights. Her hair was wavy and pinned up in a complex series of braids with dozens of expensive sapphire gemstone-capped pins keeping them up. 

Hagiel sets the mortal woman on her feet before letting her go “As are all astartes, Lady Viskil.” He swallows down a mouthful of saliva. The six course meal had done little but whet his appetites and the sooner he got out of here to get the nutrient paste he needed… And maybe find a dead body or two to drain to beat back The Thirst so he could focus the better. But events like this always took long, agonizing hours where anything more constructive could be done, but wasn’t because of pompous mortals and their love of nonsense.

“Yes, but you’re the only Angel I’ve met in person. I’ve heard stories about how handsome and striking the Lord Angels often are, but I must say that the rumors do you little credit - even with your minor mutation.” Viskil croons, attempting to reach out and touch him.

Hagiel takes a couple of entirely unsubtle steps backward, making sure to avoid any pillars, walls or people to avoid being potentially pinned. “We tend to be kept quite busy, defending the imperium, which has over a million worlds touched by His light, so thatt is… Not surprising. Lady Viskil, you seem flushed, perhaps you should sit down and have some water?” He was about to ask if the alcohol was disagreeing with her, before remembering that most adult mortals would take offense at that, especially while inebriated.

“Mmm? Oh… I do feel surprisingly… Warm. Yes, I’ll go do that.” Lady Viskil murmured before wandering out of his sight line and thus, not his problem at the moment.

Hagiel started to slink his way over to where Governor Shyrc was, to make his excuses to leave the party, when vice-admiral Egalth called out to him “Lord Hagiel?”

The Lamenter sent a silent prayer to his genefather Sanguinius for patience before turning to him and saying “Yes, vice-admiral?” trying to keep his voice light and pleasant.

“You reminding Viskil of the real flesh and blood cost to her cowardice was gutsy, Lord Angel. The only one with more political capital in this system than she does is the Lord Governor and his second in command, and even that’s debatable, depending on the month.” The mortal hummed. “Still, she needed the reality check.”

“I am a stranger to this system, and will not be lingering long. I am likely to be leaving alongside the Ultramarine inspection crew, unless I receive additional orders from His Regency.” Hagiel responded with a small shrug. 

“Ehh… Fair enough. Speaking of, have you ever met him?” the vice admiral asked.

“Please clarify?” Hagiel inquired, having a guess as to who the other meant, but wanting to be sure.

“The Regent.” Egalth clarified.

“No, but my chapter Master and the captains of each of the-” surviving “-company captains have. As a rank and file battle brother, I have yet to be given such an honor. But I have heard stories of his grace and presence.” Hagiel answered earnestly.

“I haven’t either. Shyrc’s going to be wrapping this thing up, and I have worked alongside Astartes before, as has he. He’ll understand if you leave without saying goodbye to him. I’ve also got a small gift for you.” The mortal murmured, reaching out a hand to shake.

“Oh?” Hagiel murmured, shaking hands with the vice admiral, feeling as the other slipped him something. It was a small tube of Astartes grade rations. No more than a quick snack, but it was much more than the six course meal and the accompanying mortal alcohol had given him. Hagiel swallowed another mouthful of saliva - by the Emperor he was starving all of a sudden and murmured a quiet but fervent “Thank you.” He didn’t bother to pop open the cap, swallowing the entire tube down, packaging and all. “Please give the Governor my regards.”

“Of course.” Egalth hummed, nodding.

Hagiel turned on his heel and started to leave the room. He heard a yelp as one of the serfs stumbled back, clutching their face as the scent of fresh blood, sweet and tantalizing washed through the room and hit Hagiel with the force of a tsunami. Lord Amicus was standing over the bleeding serf, yelling beligerently, even as teh Governor’s security team dragged the ranting man off.

He could taste the sanguine temptation on the air, see it glitter beautifully in the warm candlelight. His fingers twitched before the litanies of his chapter began in his mind, to keep himself from succumbing to the Red Thirst and feeding upon the injured serf in front of all and sundry. He turned from the scene and fled the governor’s manor, into the night before his Thirst overpowered his hunger.

[sleepyfan-blog]

Rescue

Author’s Note: this is the second part of mer-Hagiel’s fic! Previous. Next

Tagged: @egrets-not-regrets @kit-williams @bleedingichorhearts @the-pure-angel @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: blood, injury, mild body horror, consensual blood-drinking, sexual thoughts, implied menstrual kink, please ask me to tag anything that bothers you

Summary: Hagiel wakes up in a dark, metal cell. Luckily, you come to his rescue!

Hagiel woke slowly and painfully. His arms were pinned over his head and away from his body. His tail was stretched out to it's furthest extent and each of his fins were stretched out to a painful extent. His thoughts were sluggish and slow, and someone had wrapped cloth around his eyes, keeping him from being able to see. He attempts to move, and agony shot through his body from the lingering points of pain in his body, electric in nature and would be blinding in intensity, if the cloth covering his eyes wasn't currently keeping him from being able to see. 

As the agony faded slowly from his body, Hagiel's mind finally gave him the relevant knowledge as to how he'd ended up in this miserable situation... 

But it begged several questions: Why would humans from Ancient Terra seek to capture him? Or at least, they were seeking to capture Astartes... Why would they want such a thing? Was the human they were threatening safe? Or had they also been captured? 

The Lamenter Sergeant was quite certain that he'd managed to activate his emergency beacon before whatever poison or heavy sedatives the baselines had used to knock him unconscious for God-Emperor knew how long, did the young scouts he'd been watching over and leading through one of their first missions away from the main Lamenter pod that had come together on Ancient Terra followed after the signal? Or did they flee back to the others in hopes of mounting a more successful rescue attempt? He sent a desperate prayer to the Emperor of Mankind that his younger brothers hadn't tried to rescue him and were trapped alongside him... Or killed for their bravery.

Tentatively, Hagiel moved his head from side to side, then up and down. When agony did not strike him for those movements, he did so as quickly and while pressing the knot to whatever metal surface he had been pinned too with as much force as he could manage. It took longer than he would have liked to undo the knot holding the cloth to his face, but once he finally did get it to fall from his eyes, he searched every corner of the small metal room he was in. The first thing he noted was that they had stripped him of all of his armor and weapons - they'd even clipped or filed down his claws. He ran his tongue along the thick, cushioned something they'd shoved in his mouth. Possibly to keep him from speaking? Or biting. Thin wires ran from the short metal rods that the humans had sunk into his arms, fins and tail to a crude battery of sorts that had been left in an open container on the floor. The room itself was dark enough that baseline humans wouldn't be able to see in it without a light source of their own.

Now would be a fantastic time to spontaneously develop warp-powers. Even though it was much more difficult for Librarians to use the warp in any meaningful way, if he could remove the wires from the heads of the metal stakes, Hagiel was quite certain he could brute-force his way out of his restraints, wait for the holes in his flesh to heal enough for him to be capable of coordinated movement and get the fuck out of wherever here is... And maybe find that poor, terrified human, if they hadn't been killed, as their purpose by those nefarious baseline humans as bait had served their purpose. 

But Hagiel had never been blessed - or cursed, depending on who you asked - with so much as a whimper of Warp-touched capabilities, and could therefore only glare in abject frustration at the most effective part of his restraints and hope that they would cower away from his seething glare.

...

Fuck. Being captured was not something that Hagiel had ever wanted to be subjected to. He was about to try moving one of his fins - seeing if the electricity would get him as intensely as when he'd tried moving both of his arms earlier when he heard quick but tentative footsteps. The human (who'd been used as bait against him) was just on the other side of the door. Their breathing was quick and shallow, and they called out in a hushed tone "Uhm... Big yellow mer-person, are you in here? I managed to escape the room they put me in 'cause they didn't check me over as thoroughly as they should have. I... I'm not with the people who captured both of us... If... If you're in here, please say something, or at least make a noise."

Hagiel let out a loud rumble, surprised and a little bit delighted by the formerly terrified human's ingenuity. He wished he could respond properly, but the large thing in his mouth prevented him from making more than the most basic of noises. 

"I really hope that's you in there, and not more of the kidnapping bastards playing a cruel trick on me." The human murmured - likely to themself, though he heard you clearly enough.  The human rattld the door handle, cursing lowly as it was clearly locked.

Hagiel heard scraping and clicking noises of the lock's internal mechanisms for what felt like several eternities, but was more than likely a handful of minutes in reality.

Hagiel heard one last click before the door handle swung open slowly, revealing your anxious but determined face. You give him a relieved smile as you swiftly run into the room, closing the door softly behind yourself, before horror dawns on your face. "Oh... Oh fuck, look at what they did to you, to keep you stuck like this! Shit, hang on. Let me... Lemme get the wires off of you. Then I can try and find something to pull those rods out of your... Everything. They ditched your armor in the water before hauling you deeper into the ship. I'm not sure what we're going to do once I get you out of this room, but we'll figure something out."

... His younger brothers might believe him to be dead, if they'd discarded his armor. Especially if they'd ensured that some of his blood was on it. His hearts eased a little. Hopefully the scouts he'd been training would follow protocol and return to the greater pod, rather than swimming off half-cocked on a mission of holy vengeance in his honor. Hagiel had the utmost faith in his baby brothers to behave themselves.

The. Utmost. Faith.

"Hey, buddy. I've removed the wires from the rods in your body. Blink once if you're comfortable with me getting close enough to remove the gag in your mouth. Blink twice if no, then I'll start by trying to get your tail unstuck." You asked. 

Hagiel hummed a little, smiling around the gag in his mouth, looking at you in your eyes before deliberately blinking once before looking away, so as to not confuse you. He wasn't entirely sure, as he'd only heard of Brothers and Cousins finding baseline humans on Ancient Terra to bond with. But he could feel the first whispers of affection, care and the desire to protect you, beyond the baseline training that he, as with all Loyal Astartes felt toward baseline humans in the Imperial Era, as all Astartes had been created to protect and guard baseline humanity from all who would seek to destroy, maim or enslave. 

Your small fingers were deft and gently, and he couldn't help but lean into your touch, gold-flecked red eyes warm with affection as he murmurs a hoarse "Thank you. You needn't try and pull the rods from me. Step back please."

You step backwards a couple of paces, nearly back at the door as you ask "Why, what are you going to do?"

"This." He answers with an easy smile. With a concentrated effort of will, he yanks his arms free of the rods, refusing to give into the urge to howl in pain and likely give his captors' notice that he was escaping their grasp.

You splutter in horror as his arms go limp at their sides, bloody holes dripping. The bastards had drilled through the bones in his arms and hands to get their restraints in place. Just how long had he been unconscious?

You rush over to him, hands flailing in the desperate desire to help "There's... There's gotta be a better way of getting you free than doing this! I'm pretty strong, but there's no way I'm going to be able to carry you through the ship, unless you're a lot lighter than you look."

"Don't worry, Astartes heal fast, brave mortal." Hagiel soothes, smiling woozily down at her. He could feel the intense itchy pain of his bones reforming and knitting themselves back together, before muscles, nerves, blood vessels and skin began to reform as well.

You stare in horrified fascination as he heals, still shaking and visibly anxious. Once his arms have fully healed, he begins yanking the rods out of his fins two at a time, pained growls occasionally escaping his chest, despite his best efforts to suppress all of his pained reactions. 

Unfortunately, with the amount of damage he'd taken, and whatever they'd used to keep him under was slowing the rest of his healing. To make matters worse, he'd been on a hunting trip with the scouts and had not eaten in several days, which slowed his healing - and made the eternal hunger that all Lamenters did their best to deny at every turn that much more difficult to resist. Especially as you were right there, warm and worried and filled with delicious, tempting blood. But he would not feed on you - especially without permission.

He would not be the monster that his cousins the Flesh Tearers had turned into, nor would he strike at an ally who'd come for him, despite the danger it put them into, rather than trying to escape on their own. 

"You... You seem to be healing slower. Is there anything I can do to help you?" You ask, looking up at him anxiously as he continued to bleed, slumped against the metal wall he'd been pinned against until moments ago.

Hagiel hesitates, looking at you briefly before looking away "... If I had something to eat, it would help replenish the resources my body is expending in healing me. I had not eaten for some time before my capture, and whatever vile poisons they used to knock me unconscious are doing me no favors now."

"Oh... Unm..." You murmur as you pat your pockets desperately. You pull out several small pieces of caramel. The packaging is brightly colored and shiny, even in the darkness of the room that you and Hagiel are in. "I have a handful of candy. It's... It's not much, but it's better than nothing? Is there anything else I can give you, for sustenance?"  You'd heard that Astartes could eat pretty much anything as long as their teeth could break it down. you started to unwrap the candies, offering them freely for him to take.

Hagiel shifted a little, taking the offered candy and swallowing them - and the wrappers - within a second. "I... There is... But..." He shifts, not looking at you.

"But nothing! Will this kind of food help you heal faster? I don't know how long before those bastards come back, and I'm not much of a fighter. But I'm not going to just ditch you to go to one of the buffet rooms on the upper-level decks. I don't know how many of the crew and passengers are in on this, and if they know I'm running around free, they might come to check on you... And I... I don't want you to get more hurt because of me. Tell me what it is! I want to help you, so that we both can escape this shitty place."  You growl as quietly as your anxiety-fueled irritation would allow you. You shove your way into his personal space, glaring up at the giant dumb fish-man.

"I... It's... You will likely deny me, when I tell you, not that I would blame you." Hagiel hedged, trying to press away from you. 

You're not having any of this squirrely nonsense. You've been threatened at knife point and kidnapped by a bunch of uppity assholes, and your ticket out of here was being weird about getting what he needs in order to make sure the two of you escaped alive and relatively whole. With a boldness you're sure is fueled by desperation, you grab his ridiculously handsome giant face and force him to look you in the face "Tell me. Right now! I don't care how weird or off-putting whatever you need is. Just. Fucking. Tell me!" You'd heard a number of rumors about Astartes. What they were capable of. What they wanted. What they needed. You weren't sure how much of that was true and how much was bullshit, and you needed this squirmy golden bastard to cooperate with you.

Hagiel growled, pulling away from you, his sharp teeth flashing and snapping half-heartedly at your fingers. He could have easily bitten you and deliberately choose not to. "Fine! If you insist. Raw meat would work but blood - fresh, warm blood would be best. Would you allow me to drink from your life-essence, in order to gain the strength necessary to get us free of this prison?" He bared his fangs at you, hissing in irritation.

Part of you was screaming to get away from this large, terrifying predator. Most of you was delighted to have found a handsome vampire-merman. Despite his hissing and growling, he'd been nothing but gentle and considerate of you, and considering how shittily other humans have treated him so far, that was damn near a miracle he hadn't snapped your neck the moment he could and ate you. Youd been an (unwilling!) part in his capture after all... And you'd fantasized more than once about what it would be like to have a vampi- no! You weren't going there. Not right now. "Yes, I will. How much do you need?"

"... I will endeavor not to take too much from you. I have... Occasionally fed from baseline humans before, and I know how much to take before it weakens you." Hagiel answers. 

You wanted to push the issue, but given that he'd needed your help before, it made sense for him to err on the side of caution. "Alright, how do we do this?" You ask. 

He gently grabbed one of your hands with both of his. "I can drink from a number of veins or arteries, but given the likely limited time that we had, either from your neck or from one of your wrists. Unless... Ahh..." A bit of a blush colored his face as his eyes glanced down at your legs. A couple of his most experienced brothers spoke of how baseline human women bleed for days at a time from their cores without the blood loss negatively affecting them. Shedding the blood had other unpleasant side-effects for them, but the monthly bleeding happened regularly. "But that would put you in a vulnerable position and we are strangers in a dangerous position. But uhm. If you. If you were already bleeding without injury I could. Uhm. Take sustenance from that instead. Or so. My older brothers have told me."

"Bleeding without being injured? What do you mea-oh. Ohh. I think. I think I know what you're referring to. I don't. I'm not. Which wrist do you want to drink from?" You ask, a flustered blush burning on your face as you beat back the thoughts of seeing his handsome face between your legs during that time of the month. Being able to thread your fingers through his curly golden hair as he relieves some of the pain and tension as you - no! Now was not the time to lose focus!

"Which is your non-dominant hand? My saliva will heal the wound well enough, but there may be some lingering pain." Hagiel asks, his large hands surprisingly warm as he cups both of yours with a surprising amount of gentleness. You can feel the callouses on the palms of his hands, and silently wonder what they are from.

"I'm left-handed." You answer, unable to get the blush on your face to die down fully. You shiver when he takes your right hand in both of his, bringing it up to his lips.

He presses a series of courtly kisses to your fingertips and knuckles, before gently flipping your hand over. His breath is warm on your palm and wrist as he presses one kiss to the middle of your palm, and one final kiss to the inner portion of your wrist. His red and gold eyes search for yours, and his voice has a rough, almost growly edge to it as he asks, his lips brushing against your wrist "Are you certain, *la mia perla?"

It's sweet that he's so concerned about your consent, but given the urgency of the situation, you feel justified at the frustration creeping into your voice. "Yes, I am sure. Drink quickly, before the bastards show up! I don't know how often they check on either one of us."

He hums in agreement, giving your wrist one final kiss before opening his mouth and sinking his fangs into your wrist. The pain burns, but not as badly as you were expecting. You bite the inside of your cheek, to keep from allowing the pained squeak that wanted to crawl out of your throat. He'd probably stop, and that wouldn't help either one of you.

Hagiel took several swallows of your blood before withdrawing his fangs and licks the two small wounds he'd left on your wrist. His wounds have at least sealed over completely. "Stay close to me, and I'll get us free. I can swim through the air." He scooped you up, wrapping one arm around your waist, encouraging you to hold on tightly as he flew through the hallways of... Wherever the fuck you and he had been stashed. You didn't recognize where you were, at least not until he carried you up several flights of stairs, the bare steel and wood giving way to well-decorated and often carpeted floors that were well-lit as well.

"We're still on the cruise ship! Head down this corridor, up two flights of stairs and then we'll be on the observation deck! From there we should be able to get to open air! I... Uhm. I'm not sure what I'm going to do, but you'll be free to return to the ocean, and whatever you were doing before you rescued me." You responded, at first elated but then crushed. If the ship was on it's current heading, it would be days before the cruise ship made part at it's next stop - and that was if a majority of the crew and passengers were unaware of the temporarily kidnapped Astartes and the plans that yours and his kidnappers had for the large yellow mer. "I'm sure I can hide in the room I rented until the ship makes landfall."

"Don't be ridiculous. You're coming with me, *la mia perla. This ship is as dangerous for you as it is for me, and I won't leave you behind to be hunted. Besides, there's a possibility that-" Hagiel said, being interrupted as something slammed into the side of the cruise ship, causing it to list fifteen degrees starboard. He readjusted his flight trajectory "- as I suspected, that is quite likely some of my brothers, mounting a rescue or more likely with the discarding of my armor, an assumption that this ship was responsible for my death and intend to sink it in vengeance." Please let the attack not be only by the scouts he'd been watching over. He'll be very disappointed... And proud... Of them if they didn't go for help.

"I can't breathe under water." You point out. Sirens had started and people were starting to fill the hallways of the ship, fear and panic on everyone's faces. 

"I can swim in air easily, and after I reassure my brothers of my status as among the living, I can swim you to a nearby baseline settlement through the air, as I am moving now, so that you will be returned safely to land." Hagiel explains. Part of him wants to offer you the chance to change - to become a near-eternal mer similar to himself, but that had other connotations and despite being quite certain that you are his bonded human, rushing to such things has spelled near-disaster for less patient brothers and cousins in the past.

"... Oh, that works. Uhm, there's a good chance that most of the humans who are aboard this ship have no idea what our kidnappers are up to, and are innocent of their crimes." You point out.

Hagiel sighs, nodding a little "I suspect that is true as well. But first I need to reassure my brothers that I am alive, and that not every baseline human aboard this vessel was complicit in my temporary capture. You chief among them, la mia perla." As he said that, he carried you out onto the observation deck of the ship. He flies out of one of the holes made in the glass, looking around and seeing eight of his brothers attacking the ship with fist and spear.

The scouts he'd been leading... And no one else. He sighs and calls out "Boys! Retreat from the ship, and someone call the nearest Chapter master. We have innocents mixed with the guilty aboard that ship. And why didn't you follow protocol?"

"We sent a call for aid, sir! Chapter Master Malethas is coming with as many as he can rally to his side! He also ordered us to lame the vessel, so that it wouldn't be able to escape justice." The scouts chorused as one, rushing over to him, peering at the mortal in his arms.

Altheas, the boldest of the scouts asked "Why are you holding this human? Is she a captive?"

"No, she helped me escape, and did not play a willing part in my capture." Hagiel corrected swiftly, before any of his bratty and unruly baby brothers could take an ill-conceived notion.

"Ohhh... Thank you for rescuing our older brother, pretty miss!" The scouts chirp as one, moving closer to Hagiel and you, eyes shining with curiosity. 

Two of them peel off to watch the cruise ship and further damage the engines, hissing at any human who pokes their head over the side of the ship to figure out what's going on.

Hagiel sighs a little, shifts how he's holding you before swatting at his little brothers "Go on, help your brothers slowdown that ship, and stop staring! Honestly, it's like you've never seen a baseline human up close before, and I know that you all have."

"Yes sir..." The remaining scouts chirp as they gleefully dive after the cruise ship, cackling.

*my pearl in Italian according to google translate

[sleepyfan-blog]

Day Two

Author’s Note: This is the third fic in Hagiel’s Terrible, Awful Mission. First. Previous. Next

Playlist: Spotify Youtube

Tagged: @undeaddream , @egrets-not-regrets @the-pure-angel @whorety-k @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

Warnings: construction accidents, mass injuries, please ask me to tag something if it bothers you

Summary: During the second day of reconstruction, Hagiel tries to get the planetary governor to get the needed supplies to repair the city before the Ultramarines arrive, tries to raise morale of one of the reconstruction crews, and deals with a crane collapse. 

After sleeping a full four hours for the first time in weeks, Hagiel woke to the sounds of several of the dataslates he’d been reading through in order to get a rough estimates on how much materials and human-power was on planet in order to try and get the primary hive city ready for an Ultramarine Inspection… The numbers he had for the construction materials were not good, and the reports about the morale of the populace were not much better. 

Hagiel allows himself ten seconds to bury his face in his hands and groan about the fact that he was not trained in the reconstruction of a city of this size, and that the time pressure on all of them to ensure that agents of the Imperial Regent didn’t find them to be wanting were… Intense. Hagiel desperately wanted to show that his Chapter weren’t the cursed, half-heretical fuck-ups that they’d gained the reputation of being. If… If he was able to somehow make a good impression on them, perhaps… Perhaps some of the injunctions against his chapter would be lifted in time by the current Imperial Regent…

Hagiel mentally shook himself, and refocused. The Lamenter was keenly aware that he didn’t have the correct training for this sort of social engineering and reconstruction, but that wasn’t true of some of the surviving mortals in this world. He just needed to light a (hopefully just metaphorical) fire under them in order to get them to be moving. His first stop this morning was to speak with Governor Shyrc, and Hagiel had sent off an urgent request for a meeting with the planetary ruler before he had breakfast, murmured his morning prayers, tended to his weapons and armor while ignoring the creeping hunger for blood. 

With the serfs dead, there was no reliable and safe way for Hagiel to acquire blood to drink. Most mortals took a very dim view of such things…  Besides, he had denied the red thirst for weeks now. He was hopeful that he could continue to do so until he could reunite with more of his chapter and the serfs who’d been specifically altered to have more blood than their bodies needed in order to offer relief from the red thirst when a marine truly and deeply needed it. 

His vox chimed, and he had a written message from Lady Sablescar,informing him of when the Governor had time to speak with him in the morning. Hagiel cursed silently as he finished getting into his armor and began to sprint across town, as the meeting was within a half an hour of the current time. He accepted the time slot, and was just barely able to walk into the Governor’s office on time, slowing down once he’d reached the governor’s manse so as to not cause alarm.

“Lord Hagiel, I am glad to see you again. It was unfortunate you had to depart from the gathering last night rather abruptly, but I am grateful that you had decided to grace us with your presence then. What is it that you wished to speak to me about?” Shyrc asked, looking the astartes over assessingly.

Hagiel suppressed a slight wince, hoping that the mortal wasn’t feeling snubbed - he hadn’t meant to insult the other when he’d left… He just needed to get out of that stuffy party before he accidentally fucked up and made the job of trying to put this hive city into some sort of functioning order much harder. “Something had come up, but I am glad to have gone. I have been going over the reported supplies and materials that have been allotted to fixing the hive city, versus the estimates I have been given on what all will be needed in order to get the city into at least a semblance of functioning before the Imperial Regent’s agents arrive to inspect your fair city. In order to get the necessary repairs completed in time, this is what I have calculated we will need extra in terms of supplies, food, and potable water.” He handed over the dataslate that he had crunched the numbers on to the Governor for their perusal.

Shyrc looked over the numbers, a low hum leaving them as they read through the lists for several agonizing minutes before saying “I will do what I can in order to get the extra supplies to come… But given that this system is rather isolated from our neighbors due to frequent warp storms, I am unsure as to whether or not we’ll be able to get most of these supplies before the Ultramarines arrive. I will, of course, do what I can in order to ensure that more supplies are scrounged up for the good of my people…”

The Lamenter silently tried not to fume at the other’s response. He seemed surprisingly unconcerned at potentially being inspected when his capital city was a fucking mess and a half, if they didn’t work diligently and swiftly in order to get it unfucked enough to pass inspection. Hagiel resisted the temptation to bare his fangs at the Governor and Loom at the mortal, demanding that they take this situation with the due concern and worry it was due… But the smug bastard wielded a tremendous amount of political power locally, and making them an enemy would knee-cap him severely. “Very well. Do you know when you might be updated on when additional supplies will be arriving?”

“Oh, I cannot say for certain, but I do promise to keep you up to date when I find these things out, Lord Astartes. Is there anything else that you wanted to talk to me about?” Shyrc asked dismissively, briefly looking over at him before returning to their own stacks of dataslates. 

“That is all for now. Thank you for your time. Unless there is anything you’d like to tell me, I am going to be returning to the south hospital to continue to aid in the repairs.” Hagiel informed the governor, doing his best to suppress the frustration bubbling in his chest. Impatience would do him no good in this situation. 

“No, no.  You may go.” Shyrc responded, waving him off with an insultingly dismissive hand.

Hagiel left, just barely able to suppress the frustrated growl and flash-snap of his fangs that he wanted to do on the appallingly rude baseline human, stomping his way over to the hospital, scowling under his helmet. 

~

A small frown threatens to tug the corners of Hagiel's mouth down. He'd removed his helmet, as he found that working with his helmet off made the mortals slightly less skittish of him as he worked alongside of them to repair the hospital... Unlike yesterday, the repair crews were moving noticeably slower than before. There was also the fact that several members of the repair crews had shown up late - and more than just a couple of minutes. Several had been over an hour late, and two had yet to show up to the morning shift, and their relief had yet to arrive as well. He had also noticed that their tempers were shorter as well, and they snapped at each other over minor mistakes that were quickly corrected much faster than they had yesterday.

Along with the fact that the midmeal rations for the repair crew had been a half-portion as the Governor had put into place strict control over the remaining food supplies and was allowing only the absolute bare minimum needed to keep the populace going which was enforced by the Arbites - who were liberally using their stun batons and boots whenever anyone so much as hinted at being unhappy or trying for a second meager portion of food... Hagiel silently sighed, well aware that the repair crews were suffering from low morale. But what could be done in order to raise their spirits? He had limited experience in rousing spirits, as he was not a Sanguinary Priest. 

He walks over to where a dozen or so mortal repair workers had gathered, grumbling to each other and not doing much at all - and they should be working to repair the city that he lived in. His yellow armor caught their attention immediately, and Hagiel could tell that those who were at least at the places they were supposed to be and pretending a bit better that they were in fact working on what they were assigned to do. He clapped his hands together, the sound of his gauntlets ringing through the partially reconstructed hospital with a bright and clear ring. "I am aware that the strict food rationing has brought spirits low and while I do understand your frustration, we must continue to work diligently in repairing your home."

"This is groxshit! Why do we have to work night and day in order to repair the city so damn fast? There's no reason to work so hard, especially if Governor Shyrc is going to give us a fistful of corpse starch to eat while they grow fat on fresh food and laze about in their manor all day long! And what would you know of hunger, Lord Angel?" One of the mortals ground out, throwing their hands up into the air and giving him a nasty glare.

"I know a great deal about hunger, as a matter of fact. During the weeks of fighting, I and my brothers - all of whom died to save you all, by the way - ate at best half our standard amount of rations, in order to stretch what we had, as our own supplies were getting lower and baseline rations do little to truly sustain us." Hagiel revealed, careful not to glare at the upset human, keenly aware that they were all just miserable and desperate. He has not tasted blood in well over a month, and the red thirst is clawing at the back of his mind. All of these mortals were so-

No. No! He wasn't going to give into base instinct and foolishness. 

Hagiel continued his impromptu speech, mentally rallying himself "I did speak with the Governor about getting additional supplies to the city quickly, and they have promised to work on it, but the supply ships aren't going to be able to land if the spaceport hasn't been repaired enough to hold the weight of the vessels. As for the reasoning behind working night and day to repair the city as fast as possible... I suppose you all should be made aware of this now, rather than later. Ultramarines are, after all, not subtle."

"... Why are we being visited by Ultramarines after being attacked by waves of different xenos? What do they want?" Another mortal asked, a slight quaver in their voice.

"I was told that they are coming to inspect your city, and to acquire the Imperial Tithes owed by this and every other settled planet in this system, on the orders of the Imperial Regent himself.... You are aware that the Current Imperial Regent is also the Master of Ultramar, the last living loyal primarch and holy son of the God Emperor, Roboute Guilliman? I am aware of the fact that this system is frequently plagued by warp storms and is often cut off from much of the imperium in terms of news and the like, and the ascendancy of the last living loyal primarch is a relatively recent event." Hagiel hummed, biting back a small grin as the frowns and grumblings of irritation turned to awed silence and subtle gasps and murmurs of prayer.

"The... The Imperial Regent is coming here? When?! Our city is a half-destroyed disaster! Oh by Him on Terra..." Several mortals whispered to each other, their eyes wide and panicked.

"The exact movements of the Imperial Regent are a high priority secret. I do not know if Lord Guilliman himself is coming here, but I do know for a fact that one of his most trusted Company Captains and a handful of his Brothers will be arriving in-" He made a show of checking his fox "Five days, six hours and twenty-three minutes, Warp permitting. Do you now understand why being diligent, careful and swift in repairing this city is important? And why the Governor has ordered you all to work night and day, to ensure that all of us have a chance at presenting the city in the best light possible? It is unfortunate that the relief ships will not be able to come here before the Ultramarines do... But none of us can afford to let that slow us down."

There was another brief moment of silence before muttered prayers ran through the crowd of mortals. The dominant emotions within the mortals now seemed to be equal parts determination and anxiety and they all began to return to their duties with renewed if slightly frenetic vigor.

Good! Hagiel was glad that he had succeeded in successfully raising morale. Hopefully these mortals would spread this information to the other repair crews - both around the city and the different shift hours, to further encourage others to work properly and not slack off or work slower than was necessary.

~

Several hours passed in relative peace, with Hagiel aiding the mortals using his strength and increased stamina to push, pull or hold certain pieces of equipment in place as the mortals swiftly worked to get everything back into it's proper place. Hagiel had called for a water break - as the day so far had been unseasonably warm, and he was well aware of the fact that dehydration and heat exhaustion could easily kill, as surely as a bolter round or knife wound. He was mid-sip of water, wishing it was blood as that would be far more satisfying when he heard the light and swift movements of a mortal running at top speed towards the group.

"LORD ANGEL! LORD ANGEL WE NEED YOUR HELP!" Shouted a mortal who'd come sprinting from the direction of the spaceport. They doubled over, gasping and panting for air as Hagiel set down the space-concrete bucket he had been pouring out for the mortals to properly shape and walked over to where they were.

"What's going on?" Hagiel asks, squashing the desire to reach out and pull the mortal into an upright position in order to speak to him. The mortals were very touch-shy on the occasion he'd thoughtlessly reached out to correct their positions or catch them when they accidentally stumbled and may have injured themself in an accident he had prevented. 

"One of the large construction cranes just collapsed on the western side of the spaceport, sir! It's trapped over two-dozen people across six different levels of the spaceport sir. Some of them have been physically trapped by the crane itself. No one's died yet, but multiple people are injured. We need your help in shifting the crane so that we can get to the trapped and injured people." The mortal explained as they caught their breath, eyes wide and body trembling a little from the adrenaline surging through their body.

"Take me there. I'll do what I can." Depending on the size of the crane, it was entirely possible that it would be too heavy for Hagiel alone to move, but he would do what he could in order to rescue the mortals - and his ship did have some exo-equipment that would augment is strength and reach if needed, though maneuvering them would be tricky within atmospheric conditions. 

~

It did not take long for Hagiel to arrive at the spaceport. He could see the on-site mortal construction workers who weren't trapped doing their best to clear the area where the large construction crane had tipped over onto it's side, it's base half dangling in the air as both the vertical column and the working arm of the crane had smashed into several floors of the space port. He could see several mortals pinned between the smaller metal poles. Some of them were struggling weakly, pushing at the metal in a vain attempt to get it to move.

The sweet and coppery tang of blood filled the air, and Hagiel clenched his fists tightly at his side as the desperate, ravening hunger that he'd long struggled with as a Son of Sanguinius once again roared to the front of his mind. The scent of blood was thick in the air to the half-starved Astartes, and it was all he could do not to groan in hungry want and lunge after the nearest bleeding mortal, to drink from them until he was sated. He savagely bit the inside of one of his cheeks until it bled. It wasn't nearly enough as the wound immediately sealed up, but the brief pain and salty tang of blood on his tongue was enough of a shock to get him to refocus on the task at hand.

Which was to help the mortals, not eat them like a savage barbarian. "Do you know why the crane collapsed?" Hagiel asked as he looked it over critically. He was no son of Dorn, and he only had a passing familiarity with such devices. Not for the first time, Hagiel wished that he had at least one Imperial Fist... or even a Black Templar, zealous as those cousins could be... As they were well-versed in the fortifications of all sorts and the rebuilding of cities in the aftermath of battle. 

"There was a concern that when the crane was installed that the ground might give out beneath it, as we hadn't been able to test for the underlying stability of the ground it's supposed to be anchored to... But there isn't really a good spot to place the crane with it also being in a place where it will be most effective. We'd hoped that it would work and... This happened. Damn thing tipped over ten minutes ago, and Jace here immediately went off to get you to see what you can do to help, Lord Angel. We also sent a couple of people to get the big fuck-off mobile magnet in case this thing is too much for you to move, as I don't know how much weight you can safely shift, sir." The mortal leader of the repair crew explained, gesturing a little as she spoke, a sigh leaving her.

Hagiel looked over at the Crane and asked "Can it come apart without it being damaged? I am uncertain if I can lift the entire thing, but I should be able to lift both the working arm and the vertical arm without too much trouble - especially in my power armor. All of it together... If I had a squad or two of my fellow Astartes, the answer to that would be an unquestioned yes. But there is only so much a single astartes is capable of." Hagiel admitted, a flash of guilt and shame running through him.

"Thank you for being up front with me. I understand that admitting to one's limitations sucks, especially in situations like this, but we desperately need you in top shape, Lord Angel." The mortal murmured, a gentleness in her eyes and a warmth in her voice. "As for the crane... We can use one of the Lazer saws to cut the working arm and the vertical column apart from one another - as well as the vertical column from the base of the crane. While there are less damaging ways to do that, it would take too long for those trapped if we did. Some of them are really badly injured."

"They are indeed. I can smell the blood in the air. The quicker we move, the more likely it is that more of the trapped mortals will survive... But too much haste makes waste." Hagiel responded. "I am ready to help when necessary."

"I'll signal the lazer cutters to start moving - which part of the crane do you intend on moving first?" The repair crew leader asked, taking the fact that he could smell blood on the air entirely in stride.

"I'm going to start with the working arm, as that's the part of the crane that seems to be trapping the most mortals - where is a place where I can move it too where it will be less in the way?" Hagiel responds, looking around the area carefully.

"We'll direct you to the spot once you've moved it - if you can on your own. We'll likely just have you lift it up and move the people out of the way, before putting it back down again. Reprocessing the working arm of the crane is going to be a task for our team once the injured and possible dead are recovered, Lord Angel." The mortal answered promptly.

Hagiel nodded, as he had decided to defer to her greater expertise in this area. "Very well. I will get into place and please signal me when it's time for me to lift it."

"I will. By Him on Terra I hope this goes as intended." The mortal sighed.

"As do I." Hagiel answered before walking through the construction site to where the working arm of the crane lay, hearing the high-pitched buzzing whine of the lazer saws cutting through the metal of the crane. He walked until he was close to the mid-point of the long arm. He spent a couple of minutes stretching his shoulders and arms as the saws continued to work, waiting for the repair crew leader to signal to him. 

He got it less than five minutes later. Hagiel took in a deep breath, shifting into as proper a squat position as the broken ground would allow him, to give himself a stable base from which to lift the and activated the strength-enhancing properties of his power armor as his armored hands wrapped firmly around the HSLA steel pole, grunting a little as he started to lift the long and heavy lattice of steel up and off of the trapped mortals. His power armor flashed a warning in his helmet's HUD, which Hagiel could hear but not see, as his helmet was currently clipped to his belt. His wrist-mounted vox chirped and he called this "I can hold this for about five minutes. Move quickly. Please!" 

"Understood, Lord Angel!" The construction crew leader called out before getting the silently stunned mortals to move, and to grab their injured compatriots out from under the working arm of the construction crane.

True to his word Hagiel was able to hold it for five minutes before the sheer weight and length of the latticework of steel and metal started to cause his arms to shake "You have... Two more minutes left max. One certainly. Then I have to put this down."

His words were acknowledged, even as several mortals wailed for him to keep holding it up, that they were just about to be saved. Hagiel held the huge construction beam for as long as he could, before he heard his power armor whine and click and bellowed at the top of his lungs "CLEAR THE AREA!"

Thankfully these mortals had the flee, rather than the freeze response and fled as Hagiel's power armor failed on him, and the steel beam slipped from his exhausted finger tips. He heard several painful crunches and agonized, choked screams from the mortals, kneeling down as the dead-weight of his own armor forced him to his knees.

Two of the mortal medics rushed over to him, asking "Are you injured, Lord Angel?"

"I am uninjured. But if you could press the button under here, to activate the emergency release, I'd be grateful. My power armor failed on me." Hagiel explained, gesturing with considerable effort to the hidden spot.

"Yes, lord Angel." The bolder of the two medics responded, reaching up and under his armor and pressing the button, startling as the vacuum seals hissed and popped, allowing Hagiel to remove his armor. He was currently clad in only his body suit - which left little to the imagination and graciously ignored the brief, flustered stares of the mortals as they saw his muscular physique. "I am going to take my armor to be charged and return as soon as I am able."

"Of... Of course Lord Angel. Take the time you need." The bolder mortal medic responded, doing their best not to ogle his body, for which Hagiel was grateful. 

[beckyninja]

I have

SUCH

*a soft spot*

For tragic, sad armored men (the Lamenters in general I think have altered my brain chemistry)

And Taliesin is scratching such a specific part of my brain, i love him a lot actually

I will be sitting here, kicking my little peeties, waiting patiently to gobble up him the next chapter

:3c

I'm thrilled you like him! Thank you! 😊

He is indeed a tragic, sad armored man. He deserves so many hugs. But, hey, at least he got one in the last chapter.

I plan on posting the next part of that series three weeks from now, barring any unexpected delays.