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/tg/ - Traditional Games

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[ERROR] No.55850811 [Reply] [Original] [4plebs] [archived.moe]

>If that doesn't work just look in the archive for 40k Writefaggotry post.

So I'm not the OP from the prior thread I'm one of the Writefags and I was hoping that OP would make another thread for this but alas I'm taking manners into my own hands.

Storythread is nice however that's for general so for any other Writefags who have Warhammer 40k or even Fantasy itches to scratch here you go.

Follow the rules of the board people. If you have smut you cannot refuse to share I'd suggest giving a link to AO3 post instead or other writing blogs.

>> No.55851671

I guess I'm starting.

They were stuck there in the bunker... half of the regiment wounded as the orks just kept coming. Commissar died when a Kommando got behind the line. Half of the regiment was green and those damn Kommandos... it was terrifying to deal with smart orks. They had been there for days... and it was a game of saving shots that they could not afford to save.

The Vox was going out as they kept calling out for help but more than likely they were left to die while the rest of the regiments prepared for the assault to come once they fell. Too many close calls... too many bodies rotting in the bunkers which smelt of blood, sweat, piss, shit, and just miserable fear.

They would be with the Emperor soon they had that comfort... as their bullets and shots dwindled to near nothing... but hope fluttered in their hearts as the vox barked to life.

"3rd Regiment are you still there." Frantic hands gripped the caster as voices calmed trying to not sound so desperately in need.

"Y-yes. The Commissar is dead... commanding officers dead... Who the fuck is in command now? Dead and wounded and just so many greenskins."

"Affirmative. We're on our way." They said on the other end.

"Affirmative... Wait who is coming?!"

But no answer... and so they stayed and fought with a bit more hope in their hearts for just a few more hours. As the morning brought no relief till eyes went to the nearby hill...

It was like the Emperor sent angels to listen to their prayers as horses rushed down the mountainside. Cries from the other side and not one but two cavalry regiments had answered their call.

Suicidal Krieg rushed their horses into the orks as the Hussar Rough Riders screamed their warcry and men in that bunker began to cry at the sight of the waves the came to save them. And with their own warcries, tired men rushed out of that bunker renewed with zeal they charged their foe.

(Yes I was listening to Sabaton)

>> No.55853278

“Don’t act so high and mighty,” the voice reverberated from behind the omnipresent rebreather.

“The fact we both favor green is not a point of unity between us,” Vulkan replied in a voice that was carefully neutral. He did not turn to look at his brother, but continued to study the holo-map as its information updated. “We are not alike.”

“We’re more alike than you want to admit,” Mortarion replied, matching Vulkan’s cautious toneless in a stubborn manner reminiscent of his dogged infantry tactics. “You hold weapons like phospex and bio-phage at arms’ length with one hand, then you turn around and with the other you wield a flamer with all the zealotry of a Thunder Warrior. You and your legion sing the praises of the fires of Nocturne with no less determination than the Death Guard embrace the mists of Barbarus. Death by fire,” emphasized Mortarion, even as he noted the way Vulkan’s hand was beginning to curl up. “One of the most agonizing ways for a human being to die. Isn’t it more monstrous to talk about how much you love humanity when at the same time-”



>> No.55853309

Vulkan had turned about, the movement shockingly swift and fluid for such a big man wearing bulky power armor. He raised his hand, but rather than a fist he held his index finger out towards Mortarion in warning. “Let me explain the difference between us. Yes, a death by fire is one of the most terrible ways to die. That is why the Salamanders treat it with the respect it deserves. Not merely in the way it makes us strong, whether it flies from our gunbarrels or marks our flesh in ritual, but also the way it brings our foes low, as well as the way fire can be shaped and treated to craft works of wonder. My sons are taught to mark in their minds the horror of war and the joy of creation in equal measure. We do not revel in the killing power, in the pain and suffering we cause, but we recognize its purpose in the greater plan to craft a lasting edifice that will protect the whole of humanity.

“That is the difference between us, Mortarion,” he said, crimson eyes locked to the XIV’s own wolf-gold. “You and yours have embraced the poisons of Barbarus to the point where you have come to believe that every human being not as strong as yourselves is unworthy of purpose. The Salamanders wield the dreadful power of flame only in last resort, when we have failed to find the good ground between once side and another, whereas you have come to revel in your poisonous tinctures and your toxins. You have chosen to set an arbitrary bar of worth and say ‘this high and no lower, or you are not worth consideration’ and that, more than any other thing, is what separates us. You cannot place a value upon a human being, Mortarion. To do so is an act of self-genocide. It is an act of racial suicide.”


>> No.55853335

“I wonder if the eldar would agree with your precepts,” Mortarion riposted, without even a moment’s hesitation to rally from Vulkan’s onslught.

The comment did not cow the primarch of the XVIII in the least. Instead he raised his chin in defiance. “Is that the best you offer?” he asked. “Whataboutism in regards to my history with the eldar xenos? Have I ever voiced an objection to your crusade to remove the cruel warlords of Barbarus, that the human population might live free?” There was a long moment of pregnant silence before Vulkan shook his head. “No. There is no point of similarity between us, Mortarion, but that we are both primarchs and leaders of space marines in service to the Imperium. That is the beginning and the end of equivalence.”

With that, he bustled out of the room, his hammer held loosely in his offhand. Mortarion turned to watch him go, and though the Death Lord was characteristically silent, in time he raised one hand and gently drew and armored thumb across the tines of his rebreather grille, the slow ticking of the metal a long-held accompaniment to the moments in which he was most introspective.


author not me

>> No.55854560

Sister Helvicita was compromised in so many ways. Here she was working with Primarch Guilliman! And his... mutant sons... that didn't sound right in her head anymore. As she chewed her bottom lip, of course, she would need to ask her Canoness about the thoughts she was having... Sure craving the Divine love of the Emperor was one thing... but was is wrong to crave it from one of his sons... or... even more heretical... crave it from one of the marines and if you really think about it... they are the Emperor's Grandsons.

Oh, she would need to flog herself later as she was acting like a hormonal young woman again... not like she was terribly old... oh dear Emperor the thirst was real. Such a vile Slanneshi term but it seemed to fit as she was... checking for heresy. She was so bad... watching them do their daily routine but it was so hard not to watch. She was making sure that they truly were not heretical mutants! Even the well spoken of Ultramarines might have a weak-willed mutant in their ranks!

"See something you like?" A voice said in her ear.

She bit back a scream as the world moved by quickly but her bolter was in her hand gently being crushed and her foot against his chin. Her face was a red as she took quick breaths.

>> No.55854573


"Why Hello There." The dashing Ultramarine said... wait dashing?! What if she was the heretic?! "Forgive me, Sister, I noticed you were terribly lost in thought and I was making sure you were prepared for an attack. That is what you were doing, right? I mean otherwise one would think of you watching us like the way you were and up here no less, I mean if you weren't a Sister I would think shockingly that you would be thinking of lewd thoughts but you are a Sister so that does not apply, correct?"

"Ah yes... correct." She said slowly as that is what exactly she was doing... was this mutant a psyker as well? Or simply observant?

"Well, now that we've cleared that up shall we move apart and you do not shoot me with your gun?" He said so politely it made her insides a bit warm.

"Very Well." She said trying to sound stern and aloof but it still sounded soft as they separated and she brushed her hands.

"Oh Sister this fell off of you." He said handing her the Bible she was carrying.

"Oh, thank you."

"Courage and Honor dear Sister! Good luck with your training!" He said jovially as she was left blushing and wanting to hear his voice some more.

>> No.55855259

>40k writefag thread

Free bump.

God speed.

>> No.55855321

>manners into my own hand
>diamond dozen
>doggy dog world
>Multi-fauceted society

I will add your contribution to the great list.

Learn to write before you declare yourself a writefag

>> No.55855457

OH MY GOD Did I really type manners into my own hand.
>Faceplaming hard
Thank's for pointing that out friend though those last 3 I can't find in any of my posts or the other writer's.

But your criticism is noted. I'm still new to typing up stuff on 4chan so I might miss some small mistakes. But thank you for the helpful tips!

>> No.55855493

I was using them as examples, only the first gem is yours. The others are simply equal contenders.

Continue striving to improve.

>> No.55856070


Something I made for the "Noble Dark" warhammer AU threads. In which the human race and the eldar are friends and many things are less grimderp.

>> No.55856343

This is wonderful

>> No.55856817

Try and keep this alive till tomorrow morning... I've got a massive headache and I've been listening to Sabaton. So I've got a long story planned but hopefully it will be a good one

>> No.55857424

[Warhammer High, love, war and reconciliation]

Miranda Rubricatus floated through the sea of souls, as she had many times before.
This should come as no surprise, as she could ride the waves and currents of the great ocean since she could first walk and talk.
The reason for her excursion would surprise nearly everyone.
"Freya, are you there, can we talk." To answer her question a figure appeared. A young woman with long braided hair as red as her father's skin, icy blue eyes, wearing a storm gray dress with red accents and a fur trim.

"Why are you in my dreams, Miranda?" She said more confused than anything else.

"Because I don't want either of our fathers finding out I set this up."
"Set what up Miranda?"

"Well, my father is holding an exposition in Tizca, to mend fences between both sides of the Nikaea Council. And I want you to get your Father to accept the invitation I convinced my Father to send."

Freya crossed her arms.

"Miranda how did you get your dad to even send my dad an invitation. Unless... You used your adorable blink thing Didn't you?"

Miranda smiled innocently blinking slowly in the way that always made her heart-meltingly cute "maybe."

Freya giggled "all right I'll convince him." Miranda nodded and they both returned to sleep.

author's note the war part will come eventually

>> No.55857879

>Quakefag here, coming with part of the second part of this >>55748369

I decided to name it "Not human enough."

This day was probably the worst day of Roland Vandalarius, Duke of the respected House of Vandalarius, firstborn of the glorious Lord General Sebastian Vandalarius and current Planetary Governor of Deva Secundus.

Until now, while his position did not gave him the power he felt he deserved, he was mighty enough to only worry about his greedy peers and make sure the tithe is paid without issues, but now not only a part of the rabble went nuts and decided to do things their way, but also they had enough bollocks to mess with the local television and make their declaration of war to all the main hive, and before dawn there was already a lot of report about sanctioned abhumans murdered, entire blocks put to the torch and lots of gangers coming out of the streets just to let their bloodthirstiness out in someone who is not some poor citizen or themselves.

Now he was trying to convince the other nobles to let their personal army to at least secure order beyond their petty castles without having to retort to a death threat by an Arbiters’ club.

“Lord Governor. We have reports of more dead sanctioned mutants in the east!” One of his assistants gave another bad news

“Of course they are. Do you have at least any news about something good happening?”

“The police forces managed to keep the main plaza of the Spire and all the Train Stations under control. Also we got informed House Gottsched is sending forces to aid our PDF to secure the factories of the Norwest.”

“The fat arse of Gunther is not going to let his spoiled daughter’s birthday without another demonstration of the joys of multi-melta. Still, this is a necessary relief.”

“Errmm…my Lord?” A soldier put himself in the room. “A man claiming coming from the Inquisition wants to see you.” Roland was now regretting his joy at the good reports.

>> No.55858028

“Let him enter.” The soldier did so and it was clear the newcomer was ready for war. Under a red hood the man showed the pass of time with locks of white hair and a scar crossing his left bionic eye, while the right one had a dark blue iris that could break the souls of the weak traitors. He was using red armor not unlike the fabled Space Marine, leaving his gaze eight meters above the floor; the also red armor had big illustrations of symbols of the Ecclesiarchy, ancient scriptures about promises done to the Ordos and the Emperor put in the left shoulder, left power fist and left boots; but what was more striking were a power greatsword in his left hip, a grand book in his right hip and a gigantic ‘I’ in the chest, the symbol of the Holy Orders of the Officio Inquisitorious.

Compared with that, the Governor only had a military coat, a pretty monocle and a portable bolter pistol in case the madmen managed to get inside his own palace.

“I am Inquisitor Helmut Montag, Ordo Hereticus.” The man presented himself with a tone of disappointment. “It is clear that you are failing to live up the name of your House. This is not what I expected to see in my own homeworld.” Roland wanted to come up with a decent excuse. “But the time of pointing fingers for the guilty has yet to come. I am here to help to put down the rabble down. Do you mind telling me where the leaders of this uprising are?” The Governor gulped a bit before ordering to bringing him the news.

“The main issue is in the middle hive, a horde of rebels known as the ‘Cult of Redemption’ is causing burnings there. Their leader is a former priest known to accuse the local abhumans of unproven heresies.” Then they put in the table photos of the mentioned leader. “We lost contact with the main horde two hours ago.”

>> No.55858152

“You should thank the Golden Throne that he will not be a problem anymore.” Then the Inquisitor put above a dantesque picture of the whole group of cultists killed, their leader included. “Still, I highly doubt some mere gangers were capable of such feat. Even misplaced, Faith in the Emperor can lead one to great accomplishments.” The Governor was covering his mouth of the shock. “I will send my Inquisitorial Tempestus Scions to his death place, along with any place that requires my services.” Roland Vandalarius knew it was not gesture of charity and now he had nothing to do about it.

“Understood, I will signal you the worsts skirmishes.”


Ranger felt his whole body in pain, he somehow knew his back was against the floor and that he had to get up and open his eyes. Doing so granted him a familiar but hated sight.

He was inside a cathedral, but the windows instead of angels or something comforting represented a hooded winged monster with a bleeding heart above its head. There were small rivers of blood leading the center of the place and the few open windows showed floating terrain united by chains, clouds barely hiding monstrous tendrils and limbless abominations flying around. Before Ranger could come to terms what he was seeing and that he was wielding a machinegun, a demonic voice appeared.

>Welcome again.
“No, no, not again….”
>Prepare to fight.
“No…I’m not longer your gladiator!”
>Round begins in three.
You bast-

Gunshots started to rain everywhere as Ranger ran quickly to find any ammo, weapon or armor those bastards did summon, but instead…

“Time to get some air!” A thin punk junkie in a hoverboard armed a blue weapon known as a nailgun. Ranger hated both the junkie known as Anarki and the design of his weapon, which did shoot nails that Ranger managed to avoid without issue; but he also failed to hit mark with the rapid bastard.

>> No.55858371

Noticing his awful aim, Anarki instead pulled out a small purple device that worked as a gauntlet with a small chainsaw. He grinned knowing that getting killed by one of these was the worst shame in the Arena and charged at Ranger, who ducked the hit and shoot at the hoverboard, making the punk fall on his face, not giving him enough time to avoid the lethal burst in the back. Ranger then grabbed the Nail Gun, spat at Anarki’s body and went to search for more resources.

“I will harvest your soul!” Shotgun fire came from one of the fanatics of the particular God who was watching this match. A woman of short white hair, glowing eyes, pale blue skin and armor of the medieval ages was shooting him to feed his blood to her Gods and Ranger was having none of that. He ran forwards away knowing he could be blasted away by the shots or her Unholy Totems she could summon.

The zealot Paladin named Galena, would not let a sinner who killed one of the Gods themselves goes unpunished and pursued him in the halls, but after one corner she got hit in the face with Anarki’s hoverboard, then got finished by Ranger’s nails. They were not of nine inches large, but it did the job. Ranger was just loading the shotgun when rockets came from the right.

“You’re among the wolves now!” Ranger sighed that now he was facing one of the few sane warriors of the Arena. A man of middle age with light brown hair, light brown jacket, graying brown pants and army boots; that man was William “BJ” Blazkowicz, a veteran hero of World War II, but Ranger knew he came from a timeline where evil triumphed, also that he was dual welding rocket launchers. Rocket launchers aimed at him.

>> No.55858557

The barrage was too much to handle, so Ranger uses the Dire Orb to go to a high position to fire the nailgun at BJ, who escaped as he wasted the lasts rockets. Ranger jumped down, putting himself point blank at BJ with shotgun in hand, and muttering “I’m sorry.” as he blew up the veteran face off his body.


Ranger snarled at the voice, but he got grabbed in the neck by a warrior covered from head to toe by a green armor corrupted by demonic energies and the whisper of his dead home. To many souls, this warrior was the one whose undying rage saved them from slaving from Hell itself. For Ranger, this Doom Slayer was just another madman he had to put down again. Unlike Blazkowicz, Doom did resist being shot point blank by the shotgun; his only reaction was throwing Ranger to the floor and then dedicates himself to punch him in the face nonstop.

The Hell Walker may be feared as an avatar of Rage, but Ranger felt his own anger forming in his right and used a small pause from his foe to connect a powered jab at his helmet that stopped Doom in his tracks. Ranger did not stop there; against common sense he punched the Doom Slayer again and again, to the point both noticed the latter visor breaking at each punch; but when Ranger felt this last punch would put this rabid bunny down for good, Doom grabbed his arm, used it threw Ranger to the floor, put his foot in the slipgate warrior’s face to keep him still and then he ripped the arm apart.

Ranger wanted to scream, but something was stopping his voice in his throat. Doom Slayer was not done yet; he grabbed Ranger’s head, then he put his hand in each part of his jaw, and then began to open it apart.

Ranger couldn’t do nothing to stop this mute psycho, he was feeling every part of his head being torn apart not fast enough, it hurts, it hurts, ithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsithurtsImustscreamIhavetoscreamwhyIcannotscrea-

>> No.55859010

[Warhammer High, love, war and reconciliation]

Chapter One

Pleas from Young and Old.

Freya awoke, showered, got dressed and went downstairs for breakfast.
And she thought to herself an argument with my dad. As if on cue Leman Russ Primarch of the Sixth Legion, Wolf King of Fenris, and Freya's dad walked down the stairs muttering to himself.

As he approached the table his mutterings Were clearly Fenrisian insults and obscenities. As Russ sat down to sulk Freya broke the silence. "So, what's wrong dad." Russ took a deep breath "well You that Expo uncle Magnus Set up? You know the one on the planet I swore I would sooner die than set foot on?"

Freya nodded, afraid of where this was going. "APPARENTLY, I was pressganged into going to that warp tainted city to represent those who were AND STILL ARE against the expansion of the librarius.

Freya swallowed, shaken by her father's sudden outburst. A fact Leman quickly picked up on and went to calm his daughter. "I'm sorry I didn't mean to snap at you like that. It's just Mortarion weaseled his way out and I've not even got an invitation."

Freya bit her lip unsure how to proceed. "did you check your mail today? it might have come overnight?" Lemen grumbled, checked his portable noosphere terminal and let out a soft chuckle. "well I'll be, the nerd sent us an invite while I slept." "Us," Freya said trying to hide her eagerness.

"Yep, two invitations, all-expenses paid." He sighed; Morty, Hel knows how you did it. But you owe me BIG for this.

author's note. will continue tomorrow. Stay tuned for how Morty got out of going to the Expo and Hints as to what the coming war will entail.

>> No.55859068


Ranger opened his eyes and instead of the Cathedral of the Elder Gods, he was above of a mattress in a somehow familiar room, lacking his armor and weapons except the boots; with the naive girl being near, obviously frightened by his scream.

“Mister, are you alright?!” She said worried. Ranger then noticed that she had pointy ears.

“Lofn…that is your name?” She nodded. “It was…an awful nightmare. Just that, a nightmare.”

>No, it was a memory; but I can’t tell her that.

Lofn sighed in relief, but Ranger also had some questions.

“How I got here?”

“I don’t know. You just walked here, wounded and mumbling about someone.” Ranger tensed, he noticed the bandage in his hips, but there was the fear said something nobody should know.

“Who was that person?”

“Annie.” Ranger felt an odd confusion, he should be relieved nothing eldritch came from his mouth, but it also brought back painful memories. Not the ones who tore your body apart, but the ones who broke your soul. Lofn noticed his distress. “I’m sorry, I did not mean to-”

“It’s okay.” Ranger interrupted. “She is my wife, I have a family too.” His mission was returning too. “They are waiting for me.”

Lofn sighed; she guessed it was everything good now. “Well, I will be back to my room them, you scared Ripper too.” She went there but then…

“Wait.” Lofn turned around at Ranger. “Thanks kid.” Then finally Ranger went to rest under his own terms. Lofn returned to her bed, also to sleep, completely happy for receive a confirmation of her beliefs.

>And done for now, I will finish it tomorrow.

>> No.55860582


Requesting story of a failed Chris Orksen operation with pic related.

>> No.55861300

Why dat bitch so huge? She's as tall as the custodes.

>> No.55861814

Gotta be subtle anon size is a way of demonstrating importance, and since the custodes and sisters of silence were meant to fight together the artist made them the same height to show they complement each other.

>> No.55861846

OP of last thread here - Good job anon, I like you, and I will see if I can throw in some sort of writing of my own as well.

And again thanks for starting a continuation :)

>> No.55861887

What the fuck is this thread????

>> No.55862420

(Closest we got to old /tg/ in new /tg/)
And yet I am not an old fag, so please don't go raving mad, it would be appreciated if you behave

>> No.55863477

>continuing chapter one
three hours earlier

Horus Lupercal sat at his large oaken desk, Glaring daggers at his hooded brother.

"So, why precisely are you requesting to be reassigned to and I quote" 'anywhere but Prospero? "
"Because I'd sooner drink burning Phosphex, then even enter ORBIT over that thrice-cursed rock. Find Someone else, ANYONE else to go and speak on BEHALF OF THE SANE."

Horus' only reaction was to sigh and pinch the bridge of his nose. "Who else am I to send, Dorn and Perturabo are fortifying opposite end of the galaxy against the hive fleets, Angron is on vacation somewhere, Corax is fighting orks and Ferrus made an agreement with Fulgrim to go but support neither side. So, that leaves you, and Russ Who was not even invited!"

Mortarion rose from his seat to begin a new tirade of complaints when Horus' terminal started beeping. The Warmaster checked it and a small smile appeared on his lips.

"Mortarion I have just received two messages, one is a note from Magnus saying that his daughter convinced him to send Leman and Freya invites." Mortarion scoffed "of course Miranda wants Freya to come."

"What do you mean?"

"You see the way they look at each other, the way they spend time after scholam, even the way Russ and Magnus tense and glare at each other whenever they're with their daughters together."

Horus looked puzzled "so you're saying Freya and Miranda..."

"Are in love, yes."

After a short silence, Mortarion coughed "so the second message?"

"Ah yes, a bizarre cult known as Celestarii has popped up all along the border between Segmentums Ultima and Tempestus. Their epicenters appear to be the Vidar sector in Ultima and the Orpheus sector in Tempestus.

a.n next time, the real start of chapter two and the war will follow quick on its heels.


>> No.55865447

>> No.55865648

I'm back

>Night Witches

They weren't the Blood Pact but they weren't a mishmash of cultist either, the regiments were comfortably inbetween though leaning more toward the organized Blood Pact. She walked with her husband as they were headed to the hanger, smaller demonic possessed planes moved around and chittered and squabbled as the Heldrake bashed against the side of it's hanger wanting to spill blood. This would be their last battle before leave and she would have a new home to go back to with him.

"You excited?"He asked looking at her.

"For what? This or what happens after?" She said playfully.

"Well knowing you, Delila, it would be after." He said before stopping and giving her a kiss on the forehead, "Everything will be fine. Demos will guide you. Alright?" She nodded as he was no longer her husband and she no longer his wife as they had a duty to do.

"Blood for the Blood God." She said softly.

"And Skulls for the Skull throne." Another kiss to her forehead, "After this we'll celebrate like fucking Slannesh! But not exactly... You know what I mean!" He said in his usual humor with all of the faces he makes that made her laugh as she headed to the command center ready to guide him to his target.

>> No.55865797


>Sorry for the spelling errors in part 1 I forgot to review it before I hit post

Whistles told the demonic infused Aero that they were going to go running! Claws scrambled across metal as they pressed their bellies to the metal and claws dug into familair grooves that would launch them skyward. Only strong of will could fly these and not become inflused into the cockpit, which was their mouth. And by infused... it's really eaten. The pilots pulled on their oxygen masked and helmets clicked into place as they climbed inside, the orange glowing visors turned clear for them but to the outside world they were still demonic jets. Metal twisted to the cockpit as they sat down, cords and wires flicked about like eager worms lashing and connecting to the suit and helmet ports. Overly eager jets got calming pats, and the non eager ones got reassuring pats, it would be a simple run so one the smaller fliers were going.

"Simple run boys and girls. Strike the Corpse Worshiper's hard and fast. Blood for the Blood God." The commander said over the vox as he looked at the screens flickering to life on each of his pilots, followed by exterior cameras, with the vitals showing up last.

"Skulls for the Skull throne!" The pilots yelled back.

Delila took her spot on the terminal to monitor her husband's vitals and the exteror cameras. She was his eyes but she pushed down all romantic feelings as she had a job to do, after they would celebrate.


>> No.55866108


"Imperial Aero inbound!" That was the first warning that things were not just as planned.

"Heavy guns sir!"

"They were ready!"

"Stay on course! Push those birds!" The commander yelled at his pilots, the vox was filled with the demonic planes roaring as they pushed themselves harder. It was hard to keep herself from feeling worry but she had a duty and it was very similair to when she was in the Guard.

Demonic screams as birds were going down. Flames ate the pilots as they went down and in those flames you could see the demon bound to the metal pull them into the warp. Before the feed went dead. Delila didn't know which was better that... or dying.


"Mayday Mayday! Going down!" others screamed and yet her husband kept calm pushing his bird harder.

"Delila... I need you to put the commander on the line." He spoke calmly and she did not hesitate waving him over.

"You've still got time to make it." She said though the uncertainty was heavy in her voice.

"Delilah... I need you to leave." She felt cold as dread filled her.


"That's an order Delila." He barked as she trembled standing up and just walked out of the room. In her heart she knew what she was saying. And it was breaking her heart.

"I'm pushing my bird as hard as she can go sir. But, it's obvious we had a leak in the system."

"Do you think it was..."

"No sir I just didn't want her to talk me out what I'm about to do. She... she's really good at that." He said softly as he let the demon take over flying and he was pressed hard into the seat. His vision darkening for a moment as the G's soared but he looked at the feed that was back to command. Fucking bastard of a demon was letting him have one last look before he would go out in a blaze for the Blood God.

>> No.55866123


He watched her rush back in pushing against others as her composure was long gone and she was crying. He laughed softly as she pushed over to the terminal, "Hey there Delilah... What's it like being able to think freely?" He sang a few cords of a song he butchered to relate to her.

"Joey please..." She said as he was the only reason she left the Guard. That she was able to find sanity on this side of the war.

"You'll be okay Delilah..." He lied... but he would be okay with ire from the lord of Blood for telling one small lie, "Love you." He whispered before killing his feed and taking control again and roaring into the Vox as he pushed toward his target.

Delilah couldn't take it and rushed out of the room sobbing. She was a follower of one of the gods under the Blood God. A softer follower... she wanted to just die in this corner as she hugged her knees and cried.

Heated air rushed over her, as warm metal pushed against her with soft clicking. With red eyes she looked up at the demonic Aero, a bit larger than what her husband was going to die in but not as big as the Heledrake. "Go away I don't have any treats." She said bitterly as she just wanted to wallow in her sadness for now. It wouldn't let her as it continued to nudge her, it was only when she felt angry that she looked up ready to yell at the demonic creature but... found herself so warm and a deep voice whispering in her ear.

>> No.55866240


She had only dealt with the smaller demonic machinations of course Heledrakes were their own creatures but this one... would only let Space Marines ride inside as they could break free. She was not listening as the demon inside was whispering sweet words to her coaxing her to rise, and with wobbly steps she took toward the pilots cavity in it's chest. She could help her husband... it was willing to help her. She hesitated as it had been some time since she had flown but it purred to her. She looked at the shriveled body in the seat and grabbed it and threw it on the ground. The beast greedily snapped up the evidence. All Delilah wanted was to be happy, she went into the guard to not be another burden on her family and force one of her brothers, who were needed at home, to go into the Guard. She wanted to be happy and loved...

She put the mask over her face and the helmet on her head as the demon reminded her what she was doing. She was going to bring her husband home... and they were finally going to celebrate being married properly. "Blood for the Blood God." Her voice warbbled as it was corrupted through the vox as a terminal turned on as the beast got into place. The metal closed in around her as screens flicked to life and her shadow was cast upon twisted faces in horror as they were the flesh like walls.

"Someone stop that Drake!" The commander screamed but the machine spirits would not listen as they launched the drake skyward. A roar of twisted screams didn't disturb her as she pushed the bird to fly hard. Metallic flesh moved around her as the pod moved from the chest to it's back and using her memories it shifted it's pod to be what she knew.

"I'm coming honey..." She said as she raced over the clouds, fighting the G's, and ignoring the pain she felt. The demon was digging tendrils into her body waiting for her to break and consume another soul.

>> No.55866470


"Honey?" One of the people at her terminal was confused by the vitals, as the voice sounded like a typical Khornite's but the vitals were too weak. "Sir, the machine spirts are fighting us we can't get any visual feeds from the Drake!"

He stayed silent for a moment as he rushed out of the room for a moment, it was 5 minutes later that he ran back in ripping the headset away from the soldier. "DELILAH ABORT MISSION!"

"Negative Sir." The warped voice replied as finally visuals were established and he could see the demon digging into her. "I'm bringing him home! You can't stop me!" Tears rushed down her face as she would not let her husband die. "I'm not going to be alone! I... I... I..." She hiccuped before just screaming and pushing herself harder. The clouds broke and she tilted the drake looking for her mark.

"JOEY!" She screamed as she saw him and felt her body jerk back as the connections dug into her helmet, teeth inside dug into her skull as she could see through the Drake's eyes. She could feel everything, except the blood and tears running down her cheeks, she felt herself dive down as she was hidden from them and she would make them regret that.

Joeseph looked up as a screaming roar drew his attention, he was the last of the fliers left alive and he whooped in joy seeing the larger drake rip through the Imperial Aero. Though downside the drake brought was the connection to base was lost and as he looked over the Drake, he couldn't see the pilot meaning the poor bastard was being overwhelmed by the demon. Still he sent the shortranged hail.

"Thank's for the help! Can you help with the bombing?"

>> No.55866668


He jumped not expecting a reply, "Don't mention it. I'll cover you and drop some payload."

"Nice, Hey buddy keep fighting the demon! We'll get you out of there once we get back to base."

It was a long pause before they replied, "Affirmative.... Thank... you." He swore he heard a woman's voice but he rushed forward as the Drake danced around his Bird, rushing ahead and ripping apart anti-air before kicking itself back into the air. Joseph knew the pilot was probably going to be in agony once they got back to base but if someone, who wasn't a Space Marine, was insane enough to, crawl inside a Drake, come rescue his ass; he was going to repay that debt.

Joseph would say that mission was flawless as the Drake was enough of a wildcard to make the mission successful! Though he kept talking to the pilot and it took them longer and longer to respond to his replies. Delilah felt so tired... but Joey was talking to her and she kept talking back but she was so happy. Joseph watched the chest of the drake expand as the pod had dropped back to the chest meaning there was still time to get the pilot out. But, as he landed he was confused by the group of people... and no Delilah. As he was let free by the demon he laughed, "I wasn't expecting a welcome committee... where is Delilah?"

"She's in the Drake." The commander said and Joseph felt cold as he watched the larger demon land and he could see blood dripping from the pod. A glance up at the Drake and the bastard had a smug look on it's face knowing full well whom it was slowly draining.

It mocked him by chirping in her voice, "Hi Joey."

And, Joseph lost it.


>> No.55866764


Chaplin Leo rushed into the hanger as the demonic Aero engines were fighting each other. Other Word Bearers rushed behind him as Khorne demanded the strong survive, and introducing the newer smaller Drake had made the group's resident Heldrake quite territorial. There was dead crew as the Chaplin watched a human dig a knife into the smaller Drake's chest and with other pull the metal back trying to reach the pilot inside. They were avoiding the flames and swipes as the Heldrake was on top of the smaller one trying to kill it. "Chaplin, what do you recommend?" A brother asked him as he was still trying to survey the situation. He knew the smaller Drake was confrontational and often goaded others into a fight. Possibly snatching a pilot when it didn't need to.

"Help the mortals get their pilot out. Separate the Drakes. I will talk to the hanger crew about trying to contain them." Chaplin Leo said with a sigh as he would be happy with getting rid of the upstart and trying again with a new demon but they had another year before they had enough Aero's to try again. Then he'd happily let the Heldrake kill the cocky little bastard.

Bolters roared as the Heldrake hissed at the marines and tried to get rid of them with a few tail swipes. Other Brothers rushed over to the mortals who had another metallic plate pulled back, screaming at each other but falling silent as the Space Marine barked at them to move. The larger knife dug into the flesh with ease as Brothers pulled hard on the metal. "I see her!" A mortal screamed as they fought the demon trying to keep its quarry. Brother Tobias hissed as metal pierced his armor as he reached in and grabbed the mortal pilot. Foolish mortals trying to fly this beast. The Drake screamed as the connections to its quarry as it tried to jump up and snatch it back up other mortals took the bleeding pilot away.

>> No.55866786


"I've got you, I've got you." One chanted picking up the bloody pilot and rushing away as the Heldrake watched the mortals with interest before suddenly losing interest in the other Drake. Though that interest returned as it jumped toward the mortals and the fighting continued, smaller demonic Aero's clung to the walls screeching at the two of them as this fight of dominance was long due, and had quickly gotten out of the Chaplin's hands.

"EVACUATE THE HANGER NOW!" The Marine bellowed and the humans didn't need to be told twice as the rushed past, some grabbing the wounded and others grabbing the dead. But, Joseph rushed to the medical bay with Delilah in his arms as she was stupid, so fucking stupid for what she did! And, it was his turn to be pushed out of the bay as the doctors attended to her. It was his turn to sit there helpless of what was happening.

"Joseph. I need to talk to you." He looked up and saw Chaplin Leo look at him impassively and he just only nodded and followed the massive man away.


She felt like shit waking up. Almost like being back in the guard as there were some flowers by her bedside. If someone told her that there were clean and nice people and places on the side of Chaos. She would have laughed. Reported them to a Commissar and just kept laughing as it was a horrible joke. But, the man sleeping in the chair next to her bed just holding her hand told her differently. Her fingers tapped his hand and he jolted awake, looking at her like some scared animal.

"Hi, Joey." She said weakly.

And, once more Joseph lost it. As he hugged his wife and thanked Khorne and Demos that she was okay.

"I feel like shit." She croaked.

"That's what happens when a demon convinces you to let it inside of you." A moment passed, "Wait that sounded sexual."

She laughed softly as they just stayed there and talked and she would rest and for them... it was a bit of a happy ending.

>> No.55866800


This was long

>> No.55867197

No problem I was waiting for you to do it but after a day I just said screw it.

The Storythread is kinda intimidating to post stuff in XD

>> No.55868222

[Warhammer High, love, war and reconciliation]

Chapter Two

The Awakening

The planetoid had no name; to the Imperium of man, it was an airless, lifeless rock.

To the Necrontyr, it was a weapon of great and terrible power.

A Satellite Engine, a smaller cousin to a world engine.

Three skeletal machines walked out of an opening within the far too regular surface;
the figure in the center was the largest and by far the most ornate.

Held in one Metallic hand was a great and elaborate staff, arcing with emerald lightning. Upon the other hand was a globe of green and black fire.
To his people, he was Imotekh the Stormlord.

At his right side was a slightly smaller warrior with an ornate blue war ax in one hand and a strange looking gauntlet on the other.
He was Anrakyr, lord of the Pyrrhian Eternals and Imotekh's most feared enforcer.

The leftmost Necron in the trio was by far the strangest; with what could only be described, as a mechanical cyclops with spider-like legs, two main arms on either shoulder and a smaller set on either side of his neck. He wielded a staff crackling with cosmic energy.
He was Illuminor Szeras: Architect of the Biotransference.

>> No.55869829

>> No.55870137

Soon after they emerged a rust-colored; crescent-shaped craft appeared from superluminal speeds and instantly came to rest above them.
A hatch on the craft's bottom opened, and three more figures came down in a shaft of crimson light.

Across from Anrakyr was another cyclopean Necron though this one's body was more humanoid.
However, there were rents in his living metal shell, clearly trying to weave itself back together.
But his wounds did little to make him less intimidating.
He was Toholk the Blinded

Opposite Szeras was a charred brute clad in skins and skulls, with a blade darker than the void of space in one hand, and a crackling energy sheathed staff in the other. He was Kutlakh the World Killer.

In the center of the newly arrived Triumvirate was the tallest of the six. Vaguely feminine in appearance, bedecked in a scaled cloak and flayed flesh.
Her weapons were a pair of matched gauntlets, with small extendable blades and each's orb Contained a captive singularity.
She was Xun'bakyr the Mother of Oblivion.

They had gathered for one purpose.

The subjugation and extermination of all life in the galaxy.

Imotekh was the first to break the silence. "I see the aeons have done little to diminish your beauty."

"Dispense with the pleasantries Imotekh, we have come to ensure your satellite engines will be committed to the offensive."

Imotekh let out a metallic chuckle, "so what of the world we will make an example of."

The mother of Oblivion outstretched her hand and a hologram appeared."Our Legions rise from there tombs, our Fleets will strike with but a word and planets and moons answer our call to war." As she spoke the hologram shifted to horizon spanning armies, great armadas of black, scythe and spear-shaped craft. finally, a planet-sized warship in the galactic southwest heading northeast and two moon sized warships on a sickle-shaped path from the northwest to the southeast. Their meeting point, a world of silver and glass pyramids.

>> No.55870246

"Prospero will burn."

a.n story will continue once I recover from the removal of my wisdom teeth.

Tune in next time for either Freya and Leman arriving in Tizca OR Mortarion is ambushed by Necrons.

Aspiring Writefag signing off ... for now.

>> No.55872702

Hey 40K writefags. Y'al might wana paste your stories in the storythread for further preservation and archiving.


>> No.55872758

How does one archive I've made this so that they wouldn't be flooded with 40k stuff

>> No.55874424


>> No.55874749

Bumping before I go to bed.
Since I have an AO3 I can make a post for this stuff or if someone wants to do whatever the story thread is doing on 1d4chan please let me know.

I will admit I'm a bit of a newfag so I'd like some guidance on the matter.

Gonna go die. Night

>> No.55875760

>> No.55876512

First threads OP:I am aware of this, I made the original thread to avoid to avoid spamming that with 40k stuff, because I know few of the folk that run it and they are not too fond of 40k (They don't hate it, but not like it very much), so I made a separate thread to not annoy them and have all this in one place.

>> No.55877682

>> No.55877831

[Warhammer High, love, war and reconciliation]

Chapter Three
Brothers and Cousins
The warp jump from Terra to Prospero was welcomely short. owing to both the Crimson King's presence and Prospero's own psychic signature.

It will be good to see Miranda again. Freya thought to herself as the shuttle came to a stop. "The crimson king and the XVTH Legion welcome you to Tizca: The City of Light." The pilot servitor intoned as the harnesses disengaged and the shuttle doors opened. The Russ' left the landing pad atop the Pyramid of Photep. Awaiting them were Magnus the Red clearly surprised, and less than amused to see Leman. And Miranda who was nearly tackled-hugged off her feet by Freya but she managed to stay upright and return the embrace. "I'm so glad you’re here." "it’s good to be here Miranda."

They soon realized however that both their fathers were staring at them and quickly disentangled themselves. "It'sgoodtoseeourunclesagaintoo." They said so fast, and with such overlap, it came out as one large word.

The two Primarchs glanced at their respective daughters, then at each other and sighed. Magnus then asked," shall I show you your rooms now?"
"No need, I'll bunk with Miranda" Freya exclaimed; to which the lord of the XVth could only pinch the bridge of his nose and mutter " they aren't even trying to hide it anymore.

a.n comments and criticisms are welcome for all of my work, flames, however, are for BBQ's

>> No.55879332

I'm going to try my hand at something.

Life in the Eye of Terror is by all means a hellish, but to a World Eater it is a paradise of a sort. The Bezerker known as "Bloodshot" within his warband would agree with that. The daemons and other dregs that live here could provide some sport. Khorne probably appreciates daemon ichor more than he does regular human blood the Bezerker figured. "Skulls for the Skull Throne!"

The Bezerker in a suicidal charge attacked a daemonette with little but his chain-axe and bolt pistol infused right hand. The nimble daemon dodged his chain-axe with a mockingly inhuman grace that only furthered the marine's anger. The creature taunted him as if it had a death wish that he would gladly grant.

"Your blood belongs to Khorne, you hellspawn!" He swung his chain-axe for the daemon's head only to miss it again.

"Do you think the Swift Lightning of Slaanesh would fall to a mindless brute such as yourself, mortal?" The daemon cooed stroking its own ego.

"Never heard of you," Bloodshot spat offending the daemon.

>> No.55880603

So I got this silly idea - the alternative to nobelbright warhammer everyone complains about - what if ones that won in the end were orks? And now we got orks who got so bored they started pretending they are other factions and fight each other
It could be called:

"In da dark future of da 63 millennia, dere iz only WAAARGGG!!!"

>> No.55880678


They dress up as them right?

>> No.55880721

Yes and "speak" like that, as much as possible, but still in silly way.

>> No.55880758


So they would be the ummies, da eldar, da tau... would they be nids, necrons, or demons at all?

>> No.55880830

Da nids could be sneak bites, and I could see some looted necrons controed by an ork mek, as for daemons - no they are just horrified by orks pesesen and hide in the eye of terror, while ork launch campaings into it.

>> No.55880869

I approve of this Orkified reality

>> No.55880902

(By the way this OP of first one I just forgot to put the name back one)

>> No.55881325

She has power armor on. The sisters are the female space marines. This is cannon

>> No.55881353

I will argue they are actually even better, because they are blanks and can have children.

Also they can take out whole chapters based on lore I seen.

>> No.55881744

Just a quick thing I wrote up for a slannesh and khorne worshipping warband.


>Grant crawled with his forearms, trails of scarlet leading behind him as his stumped limbs dug into the gravelly earth. With every feeble push and movement, he heard the loud crunch of metal against stone, his enemy walking behind him. Out of it’s helmet’s grill, a small, sing-song hum dripped out, filling the air with it’s poisonous tune and making Grant cringe.

>“Ah, so frivolous is the effort, hmm?” It said quizzically, gliding in front of Grant and squatting down, peering into the Guardsmen’s eyes with his emerald glow.

>Grant whimpered a bit, blood trickling out of the corner of his lips as he shook his head, “H-He shall protect me…In this..t-time of need..L-lest I give my life in service to the…!” He sputtered out, a power-armoured gauntlet brushing the side of his cheek causing him to seize up in fear.

>“Oh, still buying that nonsense…Look at my face child.” Grant tried to gaze away, but his vision was quickly re-adjusted by the monster’s grasp, his huge, tendril-like fingers grating against his flesh. “Oh that colour…Such a rich complexion, may I skin you and wear you around my neck?”

>The guardsman shook his head, “No…No please, I don’t..Plea-“ He was interrupted by the sound of his own screaming, reacting to the crushing feeling in the side of his head.

>“No? Well, that’s awfully rude of you…I asked so nicely as well.” The chaos space marine let out a sigh as his lower hand reached towards his leg, pulling out a contorted plasma pistol and stretching it behind him. With two quick pulls of the trigger, two illuminated globs of energy were sent travelling off behind him, pummelling and evaporating the two guardsmen who snuck behind him. He shrugged to Grant, “Seems not everyone is such a welcoming host like yourself.”

>> No.55881762



>Grant felt like crying, but no tears wanted to spill out, only the soft groans of his voice. “Kill…me…please…”

>The marine sighed as his hand suddenly readjusted, digging his thumb into the guardsman’s right eyes and looping against his face, pulling outwards as he stared at the screaming man’s face, “Say ‘hello’ to that bastard you love so much for me, will you?”

>With a final tug, Grant’s head exploded in a shower of gore, dyeing the marine’s arm and faceplate in a dark, bloody visage. He sat there for a bit, letting the blood seep into every joint and run across the smooth plating of his armour before looking back at the corpse. He shook his head as he examined it, and stood back up on his feet, trudging back over to the main skirmish as he hoisted his bolt gun to his side.

>“Their flesh always looks best when they are alive sadly..” the champion lamented to himself.

Did I do a good? This is my first foray into writing and 40k fluff in general.

>> No.55881872


Nice Start actually

>> No.55882137

Thank you, Heretical Anon.

>> No.55883831


>> No.55884647

I have an idea, but first I need a comprehensive study on Weirdboyz, ork culture, and the nature of both the Warp and the Realm of Souls. Several articles on the properties of souls would also help me quite a bit.

>> No.55887415


>> No.55888821

Know what I'm about to say fuck canon and because I don't have time to get/read Valkia the bloody

>> No.55890836

Uhh... interesting

>> No.55891110 [DELETED] 


Status report: All insurgents were purged A sergeant informed by a sanctioned vox channel. He along with his squad was standing above the pile of dead redemptionists who wanted to use this place to kill beings the Emperor needed yet to keep His wars run smoothly. Unlike the Planetary Defense Force, who were lucky to have armor covering their chest and have a lasgun at all, these soldiers were granted the best Carapace armor a human can wield in the Imperium and the dreaded Hellgun, as expected of the Tempestus Scions, especially those who worked alongside the Inquisition itself.

Alright. I will inform the lads of the PDF that the Main Warehouse is waiting for them. A voice speaking in a link between them and Inquisitor Montag, who was testing the Governor to see how he would be punished to failing to maintain order.

With all respect to the Inquisitor, why do we need to aid them in putting down these amateurs? Because the Scions are supposed to go the worsts places the enemy had when Artartes were not around, not killing some upstarts gangers in a hive, which is the job of the Arbiters.

The Inquisitor does have some fondness of this particular planet, but these actions will let us operate here without issue in case the Command Squad somehow fails to purge thatabomination. The voice responded with information the Stormtroopers knew already, this was nothing but a show of might, to let it clear to the local nobles they had to answer to people who could judge the damnation of their souls for be found wanting.

In that case we will hold position until the PDF relieve us. The sergeant then closed the connection, when one of his men gave him more news.

New hostiles going by the main door, they seem be just mere looters. He spoke almost bored.

>> No.55891208 [DELETED] 


Status report: All insurgents were purged A sergeant informed by a sanctioned vox channel. He along with his squad was standing above the pile of dead redemptionists who wanted to use this place to kill beings the Emperor needed yet to keep His wars run smoothly. Unlike the Planetary Defense Force, who were lucky to have armor covering their chest and have a lasgun at all, these soldiers were granted the best Carapace armor a human can wield in the Imperium and the dreaded Hellgun, as expected of the Tempestus Scions, especially those who worked alongside the Inquisition itself.

Alright. I will inform the lads of the PDF that the Main Warehouse is waiting for them. A voice speaking in a link between them and Inquisitor Montag, who was testing the Governor to see how he would be punished to failing to maintain order.

With all respect to the Inquisitor, why do we need to aid them in putting down these amateurs? Because the Scions are supposed to go the worsts places the enemy, be heretics or aliens, had when the Artartes were not around; not killing some upstarts gangers in a hive, which is the job of the Arbiters.

The Inquisitor does have some fondness of this particular planet, but these actions will let us operate here without issue in case the Command Squad somehow fails to purge thatabomination. The voice responded with information the Stormtroopers knew already, this was nothing but a show of might, to let it clear to the local nobles they had to answer to people who could judge the damnation of their souls for be found wanting.

In that case we will hold position until the PDF relieve us. The sergeant then closed the connection, when one of his men gave him more news.

New hostiles going by the main door, they seem be just mere looters. He spoke almost bored.

>> No.55892313

'Ere we go den...


Somewhere in the deep space, a cruiser drifts thought space. In it bunch of orks, with gasmasks, helmets and black guardsman like trenchcoats run forth, lasguns and heavy stubbers in hand, as there been a breach in the ship.

As they come forth they soon find the ones responsible for the boarding - an bunch of greenskins, dresses in armor of bone, similar to crude armor of the eldari...
"Die ya panzies!" - orks in gasmasks shouted, unleashing fire at the orks in WAAARGBone.
"Silly 'umies!" Ork with a armor of bones raised his staff, conjuring up a green lighting bolt and hurling it at the guardsorks.

At that time on the holy terra, in Da Golden Palace.
300 of the biggest gits now stood in da throne room, all clad in golden armor, carrying big polarm-choppas with big shoota's attached to them.
In front of them, sitting on the golden chair was the greatest of orks in flesh - Da emperor of 'umies - Gazgul Mag-Uruk Thraka.

How could this have happened? Well it turned out in the end one race outlasted them all - Welcome to the dark age of M63, da green age of orks...
(Just trying to start...Might not be the best start thought)

>> No.55892905

So, what would you all think of a short story about a Kriegsman trying to keep his humanity in the face of a galaxy that knows only war?

>> No.55893378

I been in band of writers that made them fall in love, so I will say - go forth as those story tend to end up kind of adorable and heartwarming.

>> No.55894557

I will add this

>> No.55895225


Orks dressed as Astartes reenactors, lol.

>> No.55895883

orks who think they are astartes - or even better ork tau

>> No.55896230

>writing a documentary-like chronicle of a battle with small stories set in the various fight of that battle (which is about a division of imperial guard motorized infantry and several mechanized battalions with a pair of tank companies crossing a river and rushing to a major industrial centre to break a stalemate)
>take inspiration by a real life operation my grandfather took part in ww2
>get some shit for unrealistic things
maybe basing this off real events ruined the 40k feeling, so here's some events people complained a lot, do you think i should change them?

>renegade guard (the opposing army is composed of regular anti imperial pdf and lots of irregulars who act in separate ways and lack much coordination) counter attack, sending a tank company to break through the sides of the corridor created by the advancing forces and create a sack, they are spotted and imperial tank companies move to counter them along with a pair of mechanized companies, the first shots are made by an autocannon on a heretic macharius tank damaging the tracks and sending it offroad, the crew of the macharius after being targeted the whole day decides to leave the tank during the night.
the problem here is supposed to be an autocannon being able to incapacitate a super heavy and the crew deciding to retreat
>as the imperial forces get into the industrial centre, a battallion captures a strategic point, this being a huge and sturdy tower used to store materials and send them to the different industries by conveyors, but they were quite stretched, and get surrounded easily by irregulars, after two days of fighting a relief force is sent to breack trought the encirclement, load up the survivors and drive them back the allied lines succeding.
The issue here is that an imperial guard commander decided to risk a few tanks and transports to save 500 or so men.

>> No.55897329

>> No.55898820

>> No.55900744

>> No.55904592

>> No.55905003


There was a time when Brother Malus was young and full of innocent wonder. It has long since been jaded and smothered by war and treachery but he still knows of it. Do his brothers so easily forget that they too were once mortals? They are now uplifted to smite those who dare try to ruin that modicum of innocent joy that they once experienced. Brother Malus tries to not forget as he enjoys those peaceful moments when they have time to rest and mortals look upon them with awe and wonder.

He smiles under his helmet as he never experienced the chance to see a Space Marine as a mortal but from what his serfs tell him, 'it is something that is treasured. Bolter shells kept, picts taken, autographs signed, and memories kept until our dying day your grace. Of course speaking freely... I've grown Jaded to that wonder but if you will allow my liege I would like to bring some family to help me in helping you... for being a serf for but a day will be a memory that lasts a lifetime.'

Other terminators sit with him as some meditate and others converse as they wait to get out of their armor. Though they all knew of the brave little soldiers sneaking their way over as other brothers had evesdropped and possibly encouraged their covert mission, to 'tag' a terminator. Which is why Malus was the closest "target" as he wanted to just know that he had helped make some child's day.

"Oh Foxtrot Alpha is the first one going." He heard over the vox as one of the cameras on his back turned on and showed the eldest girl sneaking over and slowly touching his arm before running away with a grin on her face. This continued on as they remained unaware of those watching till Bravo Omega, the smallest boy, finally worked up the courage to have his turn. But, alas he was intercepted by a Guardsman, or so Brother Malus thought. He was debating on scolding the man unaware that the Guardsman had placed the small child on the back of his armor in his blind spot.

>> No.55905020


Malus could not understand the snickering coming over the vox as he looked to his brothers finally vocalizing. "I don't see why they had stopped their fun. It was all harmless."

"Of course Brother," Tibetus said with a distinctive snicker in his voice as they could see the small head peek over the guarded neckplate of Malus' terminator armor. A wide grin beaming on his face as he waved to the other children and to the watching adults who snuck their waves. But a rolling of Malus' shoulders and the little one decided it was time to get down.

"Mister... no wait... Lord Marine?" A small voice said and Malus turned around, saw no one, turned the other way saw no one again. His Brothers were doing a terrible time of suppressing their laughter as they watched a confused Malus look for the voice. Malus finally figured out as a small hand tapped the top of his helmet and he laughed.

"Ahh, that's where you've been hiding. Forgive me, child, I did not realize you were on my back. Have you been enjoying the view?"

"Yes, Sir. But, it's kinda high up."

"I suppose it is rather tall. Good thing I did not stand up as that would be rather high. Unless you're feeling brave to see the view from that height?"

Silence for a moment. "I think I'm a little bit brave for that."

"Right-o! Brothers would you mind helping me up!" Malus said wanting to make sure he wouldn't jostle the child off standing up on his own.

"One, Two, Three. Oof!" They said in unison as Malus stood to his full height.

"You're so tall!" An excited voice cried.

"Yes, I am. But I use to be very small like yourself."


"Yes. You too could one day be chosen to be a Space Marine. Even if you aren't you could be a pillar among your peers. Sometimes the best you can do is what you can do for others." Malus said knowing that the child might not become a Marine but he knew that he could be a leader for other mortals.

"You mean it?"

>> No.55905039


"Of course child. I might not know the future but I can believe in such things. Now time to get you down." Malus said seeing possibly his caretaker and with the help of other Brothers, and Guardsmen, the child was placed back on the ground. With careful fingers, he weakened the wax till it was balancing on his hand. "And for you, little one, a memento."

The way his eyes lit up as he took the purity seal in his hands, still rather big for him, he looked up. "Can I really have this?"

"Yes, little one. Go forth and make the Emperor proud in whatever you do."

A grin and a nod as the child ran off meeting the other children and the caretakers. Malus watched and returned a final wave as they went off. And this memory would be locked away in his heart to that place that still held that innocent wonder. And it was so worth getting the Chaplin annoyed with him.

>> No.55907331

I actually liked this one.

>> No.55907539

I forgot to mention that the whole time I typed it out I pictured Brother Malus having a British accent.

>> No.55908691

>Says I will finish tomorrow.
>Don't post anything for 2 days.
Time to fix this.


“Status report: All insurgents were purged” A sergeant informed by a sanctioned vox channel. He along with his squad was standing above the pile of dead redemptionists who wanted to use this place to kill beings the Emperor needed yet to keep His wars run smoothly. Unlike the Planetary Defense Force, who were lucky to have armor covering their chest and have a lasgun at all, these soldiers were granted the best Carapace armor a human can wield in the Imperium and the dreaded Hellgun, as expected of the Tempestus Scions, especially those who worked alongside the Inquisition itself.

“Alright. I will inform the lads of the PDF that the Main Warehouse is waiting for them.” A voice speaking in a link between them and Inquisitor Montag, who was testing the Governor to see how he would be punished to failing to maintain order.

“With all respect to the Inquisitor, why do we need to aid them in putting down these amateurs?” Because the Scions are supposed to go the worsts places the enemy, be heretics or aliens, had when the Artartes were not around; not killing some upstarts gangers in a hive, which is the job of the Arbiters.

“The Inquisitor does have some fondness of this particular planet, but these actions will let us operate here without issue in case the Command Squad somehow fails to purge that…abomination.” The voice responded with information the Stormtroopers knew already, this was nothing but a show of might, to let it clear to the local nobles they had to answer to people who could judge the damnation of their souls for be found wanting.

“In that case we will hold position until the PDF relieve us.” The sergeant then closed the connection, when one of his men gave him more news.

“New hostiles going by the main door, they seem be just mere looters.” He spoke almost bored.

>> No.55909678

“Kill one of them as a warning. If they don’t leave, then throw some frags for good measure.” It did not take more of a few seconds to hear screams from the looters.

“Those frakheads are from the Inquisition! Run!” At least someone was smart enough to not mess with the eyes of the Emperor himself, not that it was enough to spare at least five of the looters if the screams and shoots counted were to considerate, but those who died are lucky the Scions were too professional to give them an awful death for daring desecrate a holy place like a mob of greenskins.

The sergeant decided to give a prayer to Him on Terra, to give strength to the Command Squad to finish off the bunch of traitors the Inquisitor seemed to obsessed with for once for all; lest their years of training and gear gets wasted in more gangers.


>Sorry that it is not much. I need to sleep now.

>> No.55911511

That sounds adorable.

>> No.55913764

>> No.55915884

>> No.55918060


Hey, you have any idea on how we're going to preserve this stuff like the Storythread does?

>> No.55918640

not really

>> No.55921457

Guilliman just stared at his sons. He gave them a stare that caused the poor marines to begin squirming in their armor. They had been filling their Father in on what he had missed and well... he wasn't happy. No one was saying anything but you could hear the occasional gulp of nervousness. Like nervous children they watched him get up and walk over to the nearest wall.

Thwack. They all flinched as they watched their Primarch slowly begin to repeatedly bash his head against the wall. They were too afraid to stop their Primarch or say anything. Some sons just sat down and held their knees, like small children not knowing what to do, others ran off to go find ANYONE who would know what to do, and the serfs just went about their daily business.

Though the vigil grew in size after the first 3 days, his personal serfs; having been fetched by the marines, had tried to convince him that he was needed. But instead he continued and they compromised for their Primarch.

Somehow they managed to put a stamp on his forehead as an awkward chain of slipping a paper between when he would pull back and have his forehead meet the wall again. He grumbled a praise at their efficiency but continued on even as the wall began to dent.

It was only until Cawl was dragged to McCragg that Guilliman pulled himself away from the dented wall and let out a deep breath. "There's going to be some changes."

>> No.55922336

But I think there are ways to archive it

>> No.55922359

hopefully i can figure out a way

>> No.55924929


>> No.55925717

>/TG/, do you want me to continue setting stuff up on Prospero or get to Morty vs Necrons?

>> No.55925787

Either is fine

>> No.55926225

Might make a separate thread for smut I'm not sure

>> No.55929629

That might be a safer for this thread

>> No.55932396

>implying smut doesn't belong in a 40k thread

>> No.55933058

Chapter Four

Scythes Cross
The Death Guard flotilla en-route to Orpheus was an odd mix of twelve frigates, five cruisers, and The Endurance. Overkill for a cult uprising yet small for a Primarch led force.
The Primarch in question stood on the bridge pondering as he waited for the ship to translate back into real-space. His thoughts, however, were interrupted by the terrified screams of his astropath and the hiss of cogitators going haywire.
" Commodore!" Mortarion bellowed "give me a status report, what were we just hit by?"

"I don’t know my lord; some sort of warp anomaly?"

Any further questions were silenced by madded ranting from astropaths and navigators across the fleet as well as from within the ships' own communication systems.

"they Come, they who sleep, dead but dreaming, in crypts and catacombs from a time before gods. before them we are as vermin scurrying amidst powers beyond imagining Maynarkh comes Maynarkh comes Maynarkh c(BLAM)

>> No.55933238

We have dark eldar and slannesh daemons.....So I will say, as horror smut.

>> No.55933706

The Telepath's raving was cut short by a blast from Nathaniel Garro's bolter, followed quickly by Mortarion smacking the deck of the bridge with the butt of Manreaper.

"Will somebody explain what just happened?" "I don't know my lord but I would recommend we dock at Fortress Tarris as soon as we reenter real-space."

And as if on cue The Endurance and its escorts exited the warp...
But where they were expecting a bustling starport, they instead found a graveyard. Scores of smoldering hulks were scattered across the system, its worlds made into seas of ash and slag and the shipyards where they had hope for repairs were blasted to oblivion.

"By the throne"

The commodore made the sign of the Aquila, several techpriests whispered prayers to the Omnissiah and even the Death Guard were stunned into silence.

"My lord! We have incoming. Three frigate sized vessels and one light cruiser all unknown variants." The ships' images were immediately displayed. The three smallest were crescent-shaped while the larger resembled an ornate spear.

>> No.55933808

If any of you guys are interested in alternate history/universe stuff you may like this alternate universe general on discord https://discord.gg/xTVPDc

>> No.55934673

>> No.55935734

>> No.55938388

>> No.55939916

>> No.55943298

>> No.55943559

It only took five seconds for the unknown ships to unleash their weaponry, less than a second later five escorts and a heavy cruiser were unmade.
"Return fire!" Was all that could be heard over the dull roar of panic and distant explosions. "All ships form up on the Endurance, don't get picked off"
Most of the fleet's remnants either fell into the formation or were destroyed by the invaders' guns.

Mortarion knew he was in a losing fight.

his flotilla was reduced to three escorts, a line cruiser, a grand cruiser and the Endurance itself; all of whom were damaged.

The alien ships, on the other hand, seemed almost unscathed, with only the grand cruiser and the endurance dealing any permanent damage.
Then, quite suddenly the barrage stopped or at least slackened.

As swarms of crescent-shaped craft emerged from the largest ship and with impossible speed moved towards the tattered fleet. Mortarion soon realized what their aim was. "All ships scramble interceptors. Captain Morturg, repel any and all borders, First Captain Garro, have the veterans on stand-by to deep-strike."

"What will you be doing my lord?"
"Returning the favor"

>> No.55945996


>> No.55948295

Bump and off to die for a few hours

>> No.55948840


>> No.55952243

Bump from 10

>> No.55953444

>> No.55954805

They shit crystals, no joke.

>> No.55956275

>> No.55958471

The flies buzz around and the puss flows freely as blisters weep and form, and lo how there is joy upon her face as monstrous boils upon her back carry symbiotic insect hives and internal worms push against a bloated belly. Some strange manner of magic and resilience she must have to be less and less human every day and become a beautiful ecosystem.

She leaves with a smile and her walk slows as away from the distraction and voices another ailment afflicts her and no amount of joy can cure it. She hides in some dark corner to sob and wail till the pain passes, a disease not of the flesh but buried in her mind. Ruined hands come together as sobbing prayers to the beloved Grandfather feel as though they go unnoticed and unanswered and so she hides in the dark. She just hides her face and sobs hard as she wants to be told its all right... how the tears and snot run down her chin as her lungs push up flem as she just keeps crying.

Her milky eyes full of tears don't see what sits beside her and just gently rubs her back. As she leans on her companion crying her heart out as her mind tears itself apart. She could have gone down the route of Slannesh and have life be a pleasing blur and all of her troubles and pains gone, but that never was appealing. However, she can feel so alone even with the love of Papa Nurgle as it all feels so hollow at times and the smiles painted on as she wants to die. Others tell her to feel joy but... it's hard when her mind denies her that. A mixture of wanting to lay down and die... but the desire to keep going.

Nurglings look down the hall many having tried antics and tricks trying to cheer her up. She realizes that they must be in the Warp as she rubs her eyes with a clean bit of fabric she keeps. She likes to see but she allows her companion to lift her up as they go to watch the Nurgling antics... it will cheer her up for a small bit.

>> No.55961934

>> No.55962562

How do you write a good love story between an inquisitor and a cute daemon waifu?

>> No.55963152


I tend to stay away from Slaanesh

>> No.55963673

Chapter Five
Reapers' Duel

Death Guard Astartes formed firing lines and choke points across the length and breadth of the Endurance. Waiting for the unknown enemy to breach in through the hull and hanger bays. Only they didn't...

In a blinding flash of Eldritch light, ranks of metallic skeletons simply materialized across the ship. As one they raised their weapons and let loose a volley of scarlet lightning which erased all it touched.

Almost instantly the Death Guardsmen returned with bolt rounds, plasma blasts, volkite beams, grenades, meltaguns and even phosphex bombs.

>> No.55963784

Slaanesh waifus are shit tier and probably all have dicks.
Tzeentch, being the god of hope among other things, would probably have the best ones.

A love story between a young inquisitor and a tzeentchian daemon who continues to elude him while leaving a trail of plots and corruption in the physical realm would make the best story.
Bonus points if she had previously possessed his acolyte with whom he fell in love, only later to realize that the teasing scheming personality that he couldn't resist was actually the daemon's.

>> No.55966291


>> No.55967568


>> No.55969365

>> No.55969686

So I will try and write something up today.

After class I will go back and start archiving the stories, unless someone else wants too, and try and make a 1d4chan thread. Otherwise I will think of some alternative archive methods.

>> No.55970761

>> No.55972203

>> No.55972901

So I've gone back and saved some of the stories

>> No.55973376

There is a surprising lack of Custodes x SoS fanfic/general smut. All things considered.

>> No.55973735

>Eldar shit crystals.
I fail to see how this is a problem; we use shit all the time for our fertilizer, and I think a particular mammal shitting out coffee beans makes a good and exquisite coffee. These crystals are proving to be more useful than even that (depends on what psychoreactive means).
Really, all we have to is make sure the Eldar keep thinking of it as a sick joke and we could rob them of thousands in potential profits. Who knows, maybe we could give them some good, shitty coffee in return.

>> No.55973818

The joke is that they probably made up psychoreactive to sound important so they could trade for, what I think are, the soulstones

>> No.55973824

I havent read the book yet.

I'm one of those writers who like to keep it in the realm of canon so I dont feel comfortable to write about it yet

>> No.55978238

>> No.55978290

Why do so many people here want to fuck daemons?

>> No.55980335

I'll post this and if I wake up to see someone ran with it, that would be cool.

"The ramps went down and the light flooded in, filling the Chimera troop compartment with a dull yellow ambient glow.

Squad Leader Ortah leapt from the compartment, drawing and igniting her power sword, flourishing the blade in an arc.

'Come on then! Into them!' she cried into the Chimera. The thunder of boots on diamond plate steel ramps filled the compartment as it began to empty, filling the street with the fighting men and women of the Mordian Iron Guard.

Stepping onto a felled street-lumen pole, Ortah pulled a highly glossed las-pistol from a well oiled holster and fire blindly into the mass of bodies ahead of her whilst the squad formed a line seven across and three deep.

Turning to announce her orders, the vox operator was blinded by a spray of shrapnel that erupted from the ruin of what had once been Ortah's face.

Without missing a beat, Jarnan assumed local command and called out the necessary command.

'First rank, second rank. FIRE!'

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