o' enforcer from on high

[zaratustran]

❝ 𝖆𝖓𝖎𝖒𝖆𝖑 𝖆𝖓𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖓 𝖈𝖔𝖒𝖊 𝖚𝖓𝖙𝖔 𝖒𝖊 , the anchorite. but bid thy companion eat and drink also, he is wearier than thou. ❞ ZARATHUSTRA ANSWERED ❝ my companion is dead ; i shall hardly be able to persuade him to eat. ❞

indi private MULTIMUSE featuring characters from THE ELDER SCROLLS, WARHAMMER 40K and SAW. // written by sludge (she/her 27). 21+ and fairly selective. rules, muselist, carrd and all that goofy stuff bellow . . . . 「 𝖈𝖆𝖗𝖗𝖉 」 「 𝖇𝖑𝖔𝖌 」

NOTE THIS IS A SIDE BLOG. follows back will be from arbitratour

I. First things first- i'm in my late twenties so for my own comfort, will keep this blog 21+. I'm going to be pretty selective with who I follow just to keep a clean dash. I go through my blog and delete old memes / ooc posts to keep stuff tidy. If we havent interacted in awhile im going to soft block, again just to keep things tidy. You are always welcome to do the same

II.  Not interested in any drama, so leave me out of it - zero strike policy on this. Normal rp edict applies. NoT interested in writing anything weird and fetishistic or seeing it on my dash - likewise if i see pedophilia, bigotry ( see again fetishistic ) ect ect im going to block and ask you to do the same. Be normal please.

III.  Goes without saying but character =/= writer. I have some really horrible and some really incredible characters on this roster. If you are an adult and can't separate fiction from reality I can't help you.

IV.  Lot's of horror / grindhouse so expect to see a fair amount of gore, blood, violence and all your standard horror fare. I don't really like writing explicit NSFW stuff so it's going to be fade to black most likely. I try and tag stuff appropriately but if there's anything specific that you want tagged and it isn't in your about, just let me know and I'll make sure to do so.

V. I have no preference for formatting- do what works for you. The only thing I ask is that you trim your posts (if possible). I barely format myself beyond the occasional bold word. It's fun to get a little goofy with it- again, no preference.

VI.  The Warhammer Community specifically is filled with a lot of chuds who misinterpret the material. I have no interest in engaging with them or any take on the universe that forgives / excuses / glorifies fascism.

THATS IT. You can call me sludge (she/her, 27). I love writing super cringe vidya game rp/fanfiction on the internet with my friends. Engagement can get spotty due to work but I'm usually pretty good about getting around to stuff eventually. Feel free to reach out to me whenever, I don't bite but DMs and replies are going to be slow / i'm not someone who can keep up with constant communication. I don't hand out my discord anymore unless I really know you.

[vannaspar-a]

circles on spikes. he spots the subject of dukane's interest after some vacillation, and only then does the difference become clear: the circles are the upright triangle, the spikes the inverted one. it's indeed an easy change to miss, and even still it's something he should have missed for this time, a keen eye could have easily betrayed him. whatever he'd been about to say, however, swiftly dies in his throat; vann times his surprise badly, looking up as the taurox jostles its passengers like fish in a tin, and as such inevitably hits the back of his head against the panelling. the flash of pain is a momentary distraction, one that nearly brings a mild swear out of him.

the metallic grinding of the taurox as it trudges over the terrain makes for horrendous acoustics, oddly fitting the revelation that's left dukane with the subtlety of an orbital bombardment. vann stares, momentarily bereft of the decorum befitting a man of his rank. his instinctive response is skepticism, if for no other reason than the presence of traitor astartes would have been cause for immediate alarm ... but then again, this is an inquisitorial effort. no, they wouldn't

wouldn't they? it's the inquisition. their chief concern is to maintain the sanctity of the imperium, binding sane survivors under an oath of silence and executing the rest. demons, cults, heretic astartes: the truth is a threat. ignorance is thy best defence. what a bunch of

vann shifts in his seat, suddenly feeling as though a noose had fallen around his neck. [ sometimes, it likely would have been better to have died aboard the indefatigable than have an interrogator weaponize his survival and twist it into blackmail. ] what follows after skepticism is grim and heavy acceptance. dukane likes testing those under her command, but not like this. " and it means either one of two things: they're either likely to come or throne forbid ... " they would have known: if not through reports, then through the ensuing unmitigated slaughter. " that's a serious thing to say, ma'am. "

[zaratustran]

the taurox heaved over the shattered architecture with a violent wheeze, bucking its armored chassis hard enough to throw her weight off balance. dukane staggers a step, bracing the bulk of her weight back against the wall before regaining her proper footing. not a sound nor scoff or even a smile, but her eyes alight with something akin to fondness as the man in front of her recovers, acknowledging in a moment the humor therein.

" serious. not unwinnable, " she reminds him. her tone is void of its usual harshness, such that this reprimand sounds almost gentle. it takes her a heartbeat to see the grim, determined resignation in his face; at least he believes her, that's something. dukane almost considers reaching out to him, however the impulse is throttled before it is indulged — checked by discipline, by obligation and the innumerable, insurmountable boundaries imposed by their mutual duty. "perhaps then we would have a fair fight. " she shrugs, then reassumes her position beside her second.

naturally there was much that needed discussing. ammunition stocks, numbers — reserves for those numbers and then what artillery platforms could be spared in the time of their arrival ( if they do ) or, as the big man says it, if they are already here. plans and their subsequent back ups. the contingencies for those safe guards when they inevitably fail. none of this matters without first addressing an equally volatile dilemma. and, never one for subtlety —

" if they do come, " this all remains safely theoretical. delicate dukane is not, but the commissar is no stranger to dancing around treason. " if they do come, and we are not adequately consolidated, we do not stand a chance. not even at a good death. "

she paused a moment to blow smoke into the air, and clicked her tongue against the roof of her mouth.

" we have been allowed to bicker amongst ourselves this long only because our enemy remains equally incompetent. look at me, vann. the seat of atoma's power is held by a worthless hedonist and his equally spineless kin. this is how the imperium loses wars — do you understand what i am saying to you ?? "

@tyrran

[jasta11]

French charge scene. All Quiet on the Western Front - 1930. Director - Lewis Milestone. 

[zaratustran]

「 LINGER 」 ; from marzi to dukane.

@drakhri // 𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 … ( accepting ) 「 LINGER 」 : for senders touch to linger on the receiver.

they have long since choked the life from this place, the stretch of territory outlining tertium's northern-most expanse. dominated as it were by the machine spires of branx-born techno magni ( harboring one of the only two manufactorums even capable of producing moebian steel ), there had not been much to begin with. little to be desired. the sheer magnitude of their war machines is such that the steelheads blacken the skies wherever they make battle. only a few gasps of light pierce through the acrid smog. all of it reeks of cordite and lyddite, decomposition and burning gasoline.

as dukane breathes smoke into her mouth — retrohales through her nose — it stings, tastes chemical. no life will grow here for another hundred years. they are animals — less than, maybe. both barbaric fucking livestock. it's enough to make a woman smile; looking out into the slaughter they've made of each other, she almost does.

"fire mission, platoon adjust — number three, seven — " she felt something sharp press into the small of her back, something clawed and metal tearing through black leather to screech and gouge against the metal armor beneath. that he dares to touch her at all; in the moment she considers shooting him ( he wants her attention, that's what he wants ). instead she tucks the vox caster against her neck, holds up a finger to him — shoves him away like a stray when he goes to mouth ( sink his teeth into ) her throat. never once do her eyes leave the field of battle. " round shell, charge four. deflection six-eight-two, quadrant five hundred and — no, make that four hundred. fifty two rounds in effect. light them up. "

the alien isn't built for this kind of war, so he brings with him his own advantages and short comings. whatever he might of said is drowned out completely by the thunder of artillery fire. too much waiting. the only time he looks stimulated at all, dukane's realized with some morbid amusement, is when their own teams get hit. least then he gets his carnage. marazhai waits and he waits, forced to wait for days, to stand and watch it is a torture crueler than his bloodsport. desperation. she can read it by the twitch of his muscles, how he prowls like a caged animal — by the touch that lingers too long without permission. clawing and violent. she thinks a moment.

"i am pushing us forward tomorrow. no doubt by the time we strip their encampments, whatever correspondence or theoretical intelligence that existed will have been taken or destroyed. no doubt. " dukane shrugged, as unimpressed and unphased as she always appeared to be. the commissar pointed two fingers out to the horizon, instructing his gaze onward and perhaps more importantly, inviting him to lean into her space. his grip tightens, and she can feels the pinpricks of his armored talons begin to kiss her skin. desperate indeed. "if someone were to perhaps sneak across no man's land and borrow that theoretical intelligence for me, under the cover of night and alone ?? clean up anyone important that remained ?? i would almost be impressed. "

dog will hunt. her turn to loop her fingers around the stone hanging from his throat; she jerks him down to her level and presses her teeth against his ear. "i shall leave my tent open, drukhari. come back with my prize or do not come back at all."

[drakhri]

＃ＤＲＡＫＨＲＩ , very private, selective & low activity roleplay blog for 𝙼𝙰𝚁𝙰𝚉𝙷𝙰𝙸 𝙰𝙴𝚉𝚈𝚁𝚁𝙰𝙴𝚂𝙷 from 𝚆𝙰𝚁𝙷𝙰𝙼𝙼𝙴𝚁 𝟺𝙾,𝟶𝟶𝟶 : 𝚁𝙾𝙶𝚄𝙴 𝚃𝚁𝙰𝙳𝙴𝚁. minors do not follow me, you will be blocked. 21+ ONLY. i will not follow anyone that doesn't have their age somewhere visible on their blog OR if you're under 21. i am very crossover & original character friendly. I RARELY FOLLOW FIRST!!

[zaratustran]

Very important for us all to remember dukane's robot leg / the soles of her boots are gold plated. It's such a small detail but it says so much she is so -

[junk-thunder]

"is sex with angels monsterfucking" forum thread shut down by moderators after 300 pages of fierce debate, 26 banned accounts and 8 doxxed members

[wildwhims]

𝐒𝐔𝐁𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 …

✦ a collection of prompts that can be considered nsfw, with a lot of teasing and tension driven prompts. adjust as needed ; send ‘ + reverse ‘ for sender and receiver to switch spots. Combine prompts by sending more than one.

「 SQUEEZE 」 : for sender to rest their hand on the receivers thigh , giving it a squeeze .

「 LINGER 」 : for senders touch to linger on the receiver.

「 MASSAGE 」 : for sender to give receiver a massage .

「 LOTION 」 : for sender to rub lotion into the receivers skin

「 SLIP 」 : for senders hand to slip between the receivers legs.

「 TUG 」 : for sender to tug on the receivers hair

「CLIMB 」 : for sender to climb into receivers lap

「PULL 」 : for the sender to pull receiver into their lap

「BITE 」 : for sender to bite the receiver ( include the location )

「 MARK 」 : for sender to leave hickies on receiver

「 BARE 」 : for sender to undress in front of receiver

「 HELP 」 : for sender to help receiver undress

「 GRIND 」 : for sender to grind against the receiver

「 HOT 」 : for sender and receiver to share a heated kiss

「 OOPS 」 : for sender to accidentally send receiver a risqué image.

「 CHIME 」 : for sender to purposefully send receiver a risqué image.

「 WHISPER 」 : for sender to whisper something suggestive in receivers ear

「 HOLD 」 : for sender to hold receivers throat

「 THROW 」 : for sender to throw receiver onto the bed

「 PRESS 」 : for sender to press receiver against a wall and kiss them

「 CAUGHT 」 : for sender to catch receiver pleasuring themselves

「 LIGHT 」 : for sender to touch the receiver with a feather light pressure.

「 INNER 」 : for sender to kiss along the inside of receivers thigh

[arnaerr]

he wakes you up at night, wyd? ✦ prints and patreon ✦

[melancholic-whimsy]

they hate me for my flat facial expressions and inability to contribute to conversations

[emwrcte]

Blood erupted like a geyser, spilling across a blanket of white and red. A nomadic power-sabre erupts and splits the air it carves through with one hand, the other hoisting the grotesque head of the abomination back towards the lines from which it came.

‴ Rejoice, friends, for the enemy has surrounded you! ‴

They laugh into the frey, grinning beneath the ceramite skin they wore. The armored lasgunners pour their batteries against his frame, singing the sound cries of ricocheting munitions across the trenchline. When the power-sabre swept forwards, it left only carnage and dead men. 

Mobian Ogryn charge with clubs and carapace into an angel, being reborn into gore and severed limbs by the Marine's hand as Astartes sabre phased through the armored regiments and left a trail of death. Their blade only lowering to fire streaks of blue hydrogen from their pistol which left the bloody stumps of men in its wake. 

 ‴ Now there is nowhere you can miss! ‴ They speak through grinned teeth, breathing in the smoke and promethium fume as a bomber life splatters against the angel's visor. They allow a bloodthristy chortle past their lips, the tip of the blade pointing towards routing enemies. ‘Space Marine!’ they as they run and are promptly shot down by noble guardsmen. 

They stand their height with head held high. Shoulder rotating the direction of his sidearm with the efficiency of an autoturret as it fired upon and delivered death to its marks. And as the line of guard overtakes the trench and the armored regiment of the Sixth routed, the angel's gaze falls upon the Commissar limping towards him. 

 ‴ Do my eyes deceive me? Could this be a foul trick of the Warp? ‴  Steps land with an aura of sanctuary, like a wall of blessed steel that stood stalwart against the surrounding terror.  ‴  Or do I truly know this face I see before me? Could it possibly be the small, brave Darinda from Thracian Primaris? Could this be the little warrior who has grown to a soldier of our Emperor? ‴

The raise their blade in a salute, eyes scanning the horizon and distant vantages for marksman and finding none. Then, hand raises to relieve the helm from their visage to reveal a toothy, warm, grin with all the kindness of an angel's smile.   ‴ Has my brave Darinda, who's eyes I will never forget, become a mighty Commissar? ‴ 

[zaratustran]

the steelheads are young, true, but they are well bloodied as any gloried moebian regiment, perhaps even more so. veterans of both the war within and without: alien, mutant, heretic all. there is little between the stars that can move them, least of all shake them so. dukane does not permit weakness in her ranks — affords it no mercy. weakness, she insists time and again, is a choice.

despite their many victories, undoubtedly she was among the few who'd seen one of his namesake with her own eyes. adeptus astartes. the angels of death. space marine. how could she forget ?? five hundred billion dead in three days. four trillion by the rise of next weeks morning. that was the caliber of death his traitorous counterpart had brought to thraccian primaris. the few survivors remaining stand in utter awe. two drop to their knees to pray, one bends over to vomit bile and many more simply stare ahead, shell-shocked and slack-jawed. a few older guardsmen manage to return fire ( dukane chief among them ), but it had become clear at the onset of his butchery that whatever help they could provide would only hinder him. he's not a thing built for human war.

she departed from her flock as he finishes; there'd be no point in the chase. their job here had been to distract long enough for rannick's rejects to uphold their end of the operation. denied a good death, she ought to chastise him.

" my lord ?? " strange on her tongue, now, after everything. he addresses her, and by a name she hasn't heard in years. her own. astartes of the white scars chapter she knew, sons of the great khan, heroes to the man but it couldn't — then he assures he is. the commissar stares at him, a flicker of genuine shock struck across her otherwise insurmountable features. warmth too, and melancholy ( briefly she wonders if she's been concussed). dukane does return to herself soon, and she remembers what she is.

" i - i am, " the commissar quickly took a knee, bowing her head as she bore the sign of the aquila across her steel breastplate. formality dictated by decades of rigid, militarum subservience. it's the only greeting the woman knows how to give. he may, but she does not dishonor his station by assuming kinship. " forgive us. i had not been aware your chapter, or any, was in sector. we are at your service, my lord. "

[bigger-rat]

Vladimir Serov, The Plasterer (1946) and The Builder – Study (1962)

[zaratustran]

dukane is such a work horse of a human being but like in the way boxer from animal farm was a work horse yk.

[zaratustran]

@d3athwaltz yapped for a starter

" i find it disheartening your master did not see it fit to speak to me themselves. not matter, " clearly it did, because dukane does not bother to hide the disgust that curls her lip as she glares up at him.

von valancius, is it ?? one head of the triune dragon, the wyrm which hoards and suffocates the expanse of koronus proper. a name is not enough to rally the commissar's attention, and this is not the segmentum obscurus; even dukane can not deny the alien's master and her crested, vaunted warrant of trade. a matter of divine mandate, they'd assure her. and she is honoring it — rest assured — by virtue of not splattering his thinking flesh-matter and the skull which houses it across the back wall of her command bridge.

"the interrogator and his ilk might recognize the legitimacy of house von valancius' authority. this is fine for them: i do not. the 53rd posses enough artillery reserve to level the surface of atoma prime fifteen times over. in short, it is that your guns are not big enough for me to care. this is my war to prosecute. i'll speak to the rogue trader, not their dog. "

[zaratustran]

the way eridian brains work is super cool. they have perfect memory, because they literally engrave information into their crystal brains (one of the big reasons human computing is something that's alien to them, the first computers were basically giant calculators so it's safe to assume because they never needed them there was no reason to advance the tech tree ). it's also one of the reasons rocky is able to do a lot of the heavy lifting in terms of communication. in a sense he's meeting grace half way, however i also think rocky is sort of making up some fucked up franken-language, creating words / meaning for the sake of translation.

grace is using his computer to save / catalogue rocky's language, and rocky is using his brain (almost like a learning model) to compute ours. he's literally etching it into himself, it can't be forgotten. ironically, rocky would make a pretty good intergalactic translator lmao. his species is very well suited for it.

[lokihiddleston]

PROJECT HAIL MARY (2026)

[zaratustran]

Something oml does that i love the most (other than greyfax's spurs that jingle jangle) is that when she gets pissed, like actually pissed, you can hear the psychic engery in her voice. It really feels like something she's constantly keeping caged rather than a power that has to be manifested. It's harder for her NOT to use her powers.

She's a very very powerful psyker. P much the peak of what a normal human can be, but she has almost NONE of the training, 0 of the augments and no focus. Which is again, insane.

Greyfax is a disciplined enough person she can keep it check, but for someone who is so paranoid and exact, funny how when it comes to the warp she really is like "fuck it we ball."