I was accosted by brain worms and now so too must you suffer alongside me with the stream of consciousness bullshit. So Blood Angels are an artistic sort and we know Sirus has a poetic streak in him but what about visual art I wonder. Would he try and depict the beauty of blood dripping down his Moonlight’s listless body with a brush or a pen? Would he trace words of endless devotion onto her skin with his fingers as he drank from her or would he smear her blood against canvas because no shade of paint could ever compare to the real thing? When he indulges in his sweet Moonlight does he revel in the memories woven through his mind from her open veins? Do they guide his hands as he tries to give his beloved pleasure in return for the paradise she gifts him? Is there any masterpiece finer than her splayed beneath him painted in candlelight, hazy with desire and dotted with bloody kiss marks?
Do with these ideas what you will, friend, go nuts! Be raunchy be romantic, whatever your heart desires, the choice is yours~
-🍐
tw: yandere, blood (I mean its a blood angel)
Sirus was an artist like all Blood Angels and his brothers had grown concerned as his art was depicting more and more his desire... this desire for blood. His Moonlight was in every canvas... always wearing something red and something around her neck. He tried painting her nude... and he painted her with bite marks... in the throws of passions embrace but there was something missing.
Sirus smeared the crimson liquid across the canvas as he smiled deliriously as crimson coated his mouth and was running down his neck as his fangs no longer itched. But he was struck with how sweet her blood was... how wonderful his Moonlight was to him even if she had tried to run.
She whimpered weakly on the bed as she was so weak from blood loss... Sirus also fucking her to the Throne and back did not help either but she wasn't really able to complain as cum oozed out of her sex as Sirus was busy painting with her blood. She forced herself to her legs as they felt like a newborn animals legs and the world spun.
She ignored the manic way Sirus was hopping between several canvas' as he smeared her blood on them finishing his art piece. Her hand moved toward the door controls but the world tilted hard on its axis that she fell just before she could get to it.
"Moonlight~♥" He trills as his eyes look like they are glowing as he finishes smearing a large painting of her with blood. "You shouldn't be out of bed beloved." She laid there just focused on breathing as her Blood Angel pulled her away from her freedom for the night leaving her in his tender mercies as he used his tongue to clean her skin.
@bispecsual @egrets-not-regrets @moodymisty @bleedingichorhearts @liar-anubiass-blog
@thevoidscreams @barn-anon
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The way the 40k setting glues skulls and purity seals to everything constantly reminds me of Decora Kei fashion, so fuck it, Decora Kei Space Marine. You're welcome.
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The absolute worst type of people in these fandoms are those who think the little plastic soldiers from the 80s were created to reinforce shitty political views of dipshits in the 2020s
"Humanity first but if you have fem space marines I will cry about it"
Not to mention almost none of these goobers actually paint, play, watch or read anything related to the hobby, and only found out what they wanted to know through overused memes on Facebook
Fuck outta here, let the rest of us paint and play with our little soldiers in peace
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A veteran Rune Priest with a more reserved, yet amicable, personality. If she wasn't psychically gifted she would probably join the Wolf Scouts.
When not on duty she's out hunting, doing her part to keep the Wolf Priests laboratories stocked with rare alchemical ingredients.
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For Warhammer ask. Q: What do you think of Altani? How close did you become during your imprisonment?
«‘I have come for you.’
Overseer Mnemoc’s first word after awakening is a single syllable. He asks what many men in his position might well ask. ‘Why?’
His first word is also his last. Sevatar collars him with his own lash, garrotting the helpless man with the same weapon Mnemoc used to beat the youngest member of his choir until her spine gave out.
Jago Sevatarion is an experienced murderer, well familiar with the force required to kill a man in any way the mortal mind can imagine. He strangles the master of astropaths slowly, lovingly, his gene-enhanced muscles barely straining, using just enough strength to drag out the execution without breaking the psyker’s neck.»
(Aaron Dembski-Bowden. The Long Night.)
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