#Great now I need to think of a fitting title for Mortarion's s/o that isn't just queen of the stank

[moodymisty]

The fungus. The fungus! THE FUNGUS! THE F- but in all honesty, your honor, my wubby little blorbo shit man is so cute and those headcanons are on point.

Now, indulge my brain rot for just a second. Just imagine the other primarchs finding out that Mortarion had not only found a partner, but that they’re completely normal-looking and super kind. They’re pleasant smelling, friendly, talkative; everything Mortarion is not. I also like to imagine his partner talking about him like he’s a stray cat they picked up off the side of the road. Like,

“Yeah, he has his moments. Sometimes he can be a little cranky but I still love him. Sure he tried to kill Gulliman, but that’s just how he shows love!”

“Oh no I can’t wash that sweater. If I do Mortarion will freak out! He sleeps on that thing every night. Now, I have to go. If I’m not in his chambers at exactly 5 pm he’ll get lonely and cry so hard he’ll throw up”

Jesus christ that last sentence nearly made me piss myself laughing. Mortarion in a nutshell. The man is incapable of expressing himself in any productive way, so to have a beloved that is like, normal? Insane. No one thought Mortarion had any pull. Hell, they thought he had negative pull.

Also. I'm sorry but I got inspired by this so I hope you don't mind a drabble. No warnings apart from it being very rough and I only revised it once. 'She' is used once, but I can change it if you want.

Sanguinius walks into the massive room and makes a line right for the desk, of which Guilliman sits behind. He takes one glance upward at him, and notices the way he seems to be holding back a smile, and his wings are almost twitching. His eyes return to the parchment underneath his pen.

"I am busy. It better be quite important." Sanguinius tilts his head slightly to the side.

"You are always busy. But I can assure you that you'll want to hear this."

Eyes cast upwards at him, Guilliman looks at him with a furrowed brow. It would be quite odd for urgent news to be delivered with such a positive disposition, so he wonders what Sanguinius could possibly need to say. He waits on less so bated breath, and more so slight irritation.

"Mortarion has returned to Terra," Guilliman glances upward, and for a second Sanguinius sees the unfettered rage of a man on his wits end flash through his eyes.

"That is not urgent news." The angel has more words on his lips as he smirks and gently waves his hand. "I know, but let me finish." Guilliman puts the tip of his pen to parchment and continues writing while he waits for him to finish.

"And he has brought his lover with him."

The Primarch of the Ultramarines almost has to ask Sanguinius to repeat himself, even though he knows he hear it correctly. He pulls the tip of his pen lest it begin to drop too much ink, setting it into the well and looking up fully.

"Mortarion is courting someone?"

He would've been less surprised if it had been Ferrus.

Sanguinius' smile cracks through his withheld expression just a bit more. Guilliman wonders if he fought for the honor of surprising him with this news.

"Believe me, we were just as surprised. But she's here in the palace now. I believe Fulgrim got to her first. He seemed completely distraught afterwards, so I wanted to go take a look for myself."

Guilliman hears in his tone that there's an invitation to join him on his lips. And while Roboute knows that he has work to do, as he always does, he can't say this isn't a tempting offer. After only a moment of internal deliberation he sighs, and rises from his seat.

"Very well. I can't say I'm not curious."

The two of them walk side by side down the myriad of halls that only make up a tiny section of the palace, Sanguinius leading. He seems to have an idea as to where Mortarion and his supposed lover is. Guilliman doesn't quite know why he hesitates to fully believe this is even true. He doubts Sanguinius would ever lie but,

Mortarion?

While it takes a bit of searching, eventually the Primarch of the Death Guard is found, and his lover with him. Him and Sanguinius stay back, intent to watch the scene for a moment. And even though the two of them are silent, if anyone had been close they might've been able to hear the two of them thinking.

You seem, normal.

Guilliman thinks you wouldn't look out of place in a shopping district on Macragge. You wear the regalia of your Primarch's legion as decoration on your clothing, fabric a pallid purple, but nothing else seems out of place.

But unlike Mortarion who stands behind you sulking, you are all smiles- speaking to Vulkan with what seems like pleasant conversation. Where Mortarion seems unkempt, cast in a sour, near depressive moue, you seem nothing but clean and polite. Your smile is warm, as you compliment Vulkan about something as simple as the unique embellishments of his legion's armor, and Vulkan takes it with a signature humbleness. Though if he had to guess, Vulkan was also quite surprised that Mortarion's choice in lover has proven so, unlike him.

Guilliman watches, and when he looks to his right, he sees Sanguinius watching his expression closely. Guilliman looks back to the scene ahead of him.

"Hmm. Odd."

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