Aurelia got caught in a bit of a…crossfire, let’s say.

Link to the previous part in this mini series: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/ZWF353SrkU

Lover killed the Ork’s Warboss, so now he’s the Boss.

Malcadora got a harsh scolding from the Empress for asking the one question to never ask him.

Luckily, Lover didn’t get any bones broken. Much to his relief after having a Primarch crash into him.

I’ve been on a roll with these, lately. If you’re concerned that I’m gonna stop doing the stories, don’t be. I’ll continue to do them, they’re just gonna be taking longer cause I don’t always have the time to write them out.

The Lover dress was edited by u/That800sguy.
Link: https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/QV2Up4AkVj

Aurelia originally was gonna join Corvia and Hestia in beating the crap out of Kassandra, but she wanted to try and cheer Lover up, instead.

Credit to u/That800sguy for making the emotional crit image. I didn’t know how to make the TF2 crit sign so I borrowed his.

Lover knew where she was coming from. He’s been there, before.

So I recently watched both Full Metal Jacket and Platoon, and it has given me a spark of creativity to make a war story about our favorite Guardsman before he came to be known as the Little Emperor. You get three guesses to figure out who it is. Also marked as content warning as there will be mentioning and telling of Military PTSD and brutality. Don’t see this as slandering against Military veterans or downplaying/insulting trauma servicemen and women have suffered, and I’m by no means going to say I’m an expert in combatzones. Always remember to thank those people for their service and sacrifice. Now…prepare yourselves…

————————————————————————————

Trying to fight in the Jungle is akin to descending straight into a green hell. Any soldier in the Imperialis Auxilia knows when enough that the only ones who fight in the jungle, are the ones born and raised in the jungle. The boys and girls from Catachan say I’m just a whiny bitch, but I simply know what it is I can and can’t do in the combat zone. We’ve been fighting in the jungle against guerrillas since the day we first made landfall, I wonder how I’ve managed to last as long as I have in this nightmarish place for as long as I have, considering the months I’ve spent on this planet. The Empress’s Angels had been on this planet, and cleared out most of the uniformed resistance, but their presence wasn’t long as the form of fighting these people practiced wasn’t a form of fighting the particular Space Marines were suited for, especially given their armor was painted white with red accents. White Scars I think they called themselves. I don’t know how long this war will continue, or if the Imperial bureaucracy will even be interested in letting us continue. I’ve seen thousands of men and women come and die in the jungle, and thousands more leave it needing a new arm or leg…or in need of a coffin. I don’t know how many people have died from the fighting, all I know is that our dead are outnumbered by their dead. I’m in a world of sh-

SNAP!

The Guardsman dropped his journal and went straight to his Lasgun, the other members of his Platoon going to arms as flares lite up the dimly lite jungle to reveal enemy soldiers creeping closer to the Imperial Line. Without a moment’s hesitation, the trooper fired las bolts into the encroaching enemy troops, with the rest of his Platoon lighting up the evening sky with the red flashes of their Lasguns. The enemy either dropped dead or turned tail and fled back from whence they came. “Aquilon squad! Take point!” The Platoon leader shouted. The Guardsman carefully emerged from his defensive position, with six of his fellows quietly following. Despite the darkness of night, flashlights were ordered to remain off as to prevent having anyone give away their position. The flares offer some light, but they were starting to die off, so the Imperial Soldiers were to scramble back once light had faded. The Guardsman kept his finger ready on the trigger of his Lasgun, prepared to shot anything that moved. He noticed a body twitching on the ground, and he turned his Lasgun before shooting three lasbolts into the twitching body.

As he got closer, the Guardsman saw the now motionless corpse of a dead enemy soldier. The eyes of the man remained open, and in spite of the night’s darkness, the Guardsman could see the dead eyes of his deceased enemy. His rebreather mask covered his expression, so the dying soldier couldn’t see the face of the Guardsman who killed him. But the Guardsman wasn’t an unthinking killing machine, he’d remember that face till his time had come to be killed. As the rest of the squad returned to their defensive positions, the Guardsman followed after, though not before kneeling down and closing the eyes of the dead soldier.

•••

The night remained tense after the first attempt by the enemy to strike the frontline. Most of the soldiers couldn’t sleep anymore, including the Guardsman as he remained awake to finish writing the entry in his journal. His commanding officer arrived to inspect the troopers on the frontline, making sure every soldier was remaining ready at a moment’s notice for when the enemy came again. What time was spent being inspected by his superiors, the Guardsman used the rest either on watch duty or returning back to the Imperial Army base to restock his supplies before returning to watch duty. While no attack came in the day, tensions remained at an all time high, with several of the Imperial Troops easily getting startled or the more trigger-happy ones shooting at even the slightest hint of enemy activity. The Guardsman was less paranoid than his fellow men and women, but remained vigilant, even after light had completely faded away. “Guardsman?” A light whisper from behind him caught the Guardsman’s attention. It was his Captain, and his Company Commander. The Guardsman gave a brief yet no less respectful salute, “Captain, Sir?” He asked, wondering what his CO was doing at the frontline. “You should try and get some sleep. You’ll be no good only half awake.” Captain stated, “I can’t sleep. Not in this place. And not after it’s gone dark.” Guardsman said.

Captain nodded, “Well, alright. Just try an-“ “Shhh! Wait! Listen…” the Guardsman whispered. The Captain went silent as he listened intently, and the sounds of hushed voices creeping closer. The pair held their Lasguns ready to fire, as it seemed they were the only ones truly aware of the enemy troops coming closer. A glimpse of movement caused Guardsman to open fire, the flash of light from his Lasgun revealing the enemy in the dark, and waking the sleeping Imperial soldiers. The Imperialis Auxilia rapidly opened fire into the encroaching enemy soldiers, the warmth of the Lasgun’s giving them screams of pain as their flesh was horribly burned and boiled by the hot las-bolts. A enemy soldier shouted in a language that could only have been the word, “RETREAT!” as the enemy soldiers quickly turned and ran, though many still were shot in the back as they withdrew from their sneak attack. Guardsman remained at the ready incase the enemy attempted to reorganize for a counterattack, even while the rest of the regiment returned to what they were doing, prior. Captain simply nodded to Guardsman, “Carry on, son.” Before leaving Guardsman as the trooper remained ever vigilant for when the next attack would come.

•••

A few months have passed. We’ve moved from several locations, clearing out guerrillas and bringing the planet further and further into compliance with the Imperium. At times, it feels that the dead outnumber the living, and yet here I am. Still breathing. Still in a world of shit. But I’m alive nonetheless. Rumor’s abound that the planet’s leadership is preparing to open up to peace negotiations, and all the Imperialis Auxilia from off world get shipped out to the next warzone. It won’t be another jungle, but that’s the only good news in that regard, which is something I’ll take as these fucking bugs and this climate are killing me. Though I best prepare for having something else kill me, as orders to ship out haven’t arrived for us, yet. And I’m not holding my breath for it. Fighting in the jungle forces you to stay alert, especially when your enemy uses it to creep closer, until he’s on top of you…literally.

Guardsman continued scribbling down in his journal as he let himself have a moment’s rest. But it didn’t last long as he heard another strange noise that didn’t sound like an animal. Dropping his journal and writing utensil, Guardsman went right to his Lasgun, “Who’s there!?” He shouted, setting the Lasgun to full auto. A stray shot zipped past Guardsman’s head, with the trooper immediately returning fire at his attacker. A single body collapsed onto the jungle floor, with other nearby squad members going to ground after hearing gunshots. When nobody else opened fire, Guardsman stood up from his position and went over to examine the body. The body was still moving, prompting Guardsman to kick away the gun they had dropped. But when he came closer…he realized he had shot a girl who looked no more than ten years of age. He didn’t show his face thanks to his breather mask, but behind his mask, his eyes widened with dread. He had just shot and was prepared to kill a child. A child! His head was now spinning with questions.

What was she doing here? Why did she shoot at him? Why was she all alone? Why did the enemy send a child to get shot? “Guardsman! What’s the problem?” One of Guardsman’s squad members called from behind him. “I-It’s…it’s a girl. A…A little girl.” Guardsman stammered. “A what?” Guardsman’s squad mate was asking more to confirm what Guardsman had said was actually what he said. “I said it’s a little girl.” The sounds of several pairs of boots stomping through the jungle brush behind Guardsman betrayed the presence of his fellow soldiers approaching behind him. They circled around the wounded and gasping child, “Sh-Shoot…m-me. Shoot…Shoot. Shoot me.” The little girl pleaded and gasped as she struggled to speak from being shot. Guardsman’s hands shook, but he knew he couldn’t leave her like this, as they were too far out for medical aid to arrive in time. Squeezing his eyes shut, he leveled his Lasgun at the little girl as he looked away…and squeezed down on the trigger.

•••

“R-Robb. H-How…how did you manage to do that?” Neah asked after hearing her Little Lover’s story. Robb heaved as tears started welling up in his eyes, “I don’t know. I just knew I couldn’t have left her like that. I…I still wonder what she was doing, and why she was even out there in the first place.” Robb couldn’t contain his tears anymore, and he broke down in tears as his Empress pulled him into her arms. “I-I’m. I’m sorry I asked, darling.” Neah apologized. “She…she still torments me in my dreams. I still see…her face…hear her words. And remember how I ended a child’s life!” Robb whined, sobbing and heaving. Neah laid back in her seat, gently massaging Robb’s head as she let him cry out his tears. He needed it more than most had ever known.

————————————————————————————

Keeping this fairly short. I’ll probably not do this again, as this subject is very sensitive and isn’t something I should really explore more of. But I hope it was a good read for all of you. At least, in a certain sense. I’ll be getting busy these next couple days as my Brother’s wedding is coming up, which requires my attention as I’m one of his Groomsmen. Still posting this to remind you all that I’m not dead. Yet.

We now continue with ‘Lover as Doom’, and I’m also realizing I’m running out of names for these posts since I’ve already used a majority of iconic lines from Doom. So maybe I’ll start using the names of the old school OST’s from the old Doom Games. Also, thanks again to u/Prophet_XV for providing this awesome artwork, as I couldn’t do it without him. Now then, say the line! KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!!

———————————————————————————

The air was filled with smoke and blood. Blades clashes, crimson red was spilt, and skulls were reaped. Khorne’s realm echoed with the screams of the dying, followed by savages warcry and the ripping, cleaving, and crushing of flesh and blood. ‘BLOOD FOR THE BLOOD GOD!!!’ screamed out through the realm. In the center of it all, stood the Brass Citadel, a towering, impregnable fortress of blood, brass, skulls, and steel. Within the domineering fortress, the champions of the Blood God clashed with one another in epic martial displays of might. The Arena within the center of the Citadel boiled with rage and fervor for the spilling of more fresh blood. Atalanta, Daemon Primarch of Khorne stood tall in the Arena, the biting of the nails never ceasing as she gripped hard to her gargantuan weapons, her eyes burning with rage. Yet behind the daemonic snarl, Atalanta’s soul screamed, not out of rage, but out of fear of a past she had thought she had drowned in the oceans of blood she had spilt, now returning to haunt her.

A single armored man stood before her, his large visor only letting a slight outline of his face be visible to the Daemon Primarch. But Atalanta knew more than enough about who the man was, and more importantly, who he had been to her in a previous life. The armored figure of the man who stood before her, was unmistakably Atalanta’s father. Even if Lover had only been the stepfather to Atalanta and her sisters, he had been more than just a good father figure. Seeing him now, compared to the silly and ordinary guardsman that he had been…well, it didn’t really matter what Atalanta felt, as only rage and pain were what remained of her mind and body. The hordes of bloodthirsty devotees and daemons swarmed around the ring and stands of the arena, all hungry to have blood spilt, regardless of who it would be to give their blood for the Blood God. Atalanta continued looking at her father, a low growl under her breath as she maintained her grip on Spinegrinder and Samni’arius. “You…are supposed to be dead.” The Daemon Primarch finally spoke, a guttural and blood-gorged of words most mortals would only hear as animalistic roaring and growling. Lover didn’t move or speak, just continued staring up at his corrupted daughter, his praetor visor blurring his stone cold and emotionless stare.

“HOW DID YOU SURVIVE!?!?” Atalanta roared, silencing any background noise from the crowd. The Marine in front of the rage-fueled Daemonic killing engine didn’t bat an eye as he remained with his emotionless glare at Atalanta. The Primarch’s fists thrummed with the barely retrained rage and fury boiling hotter and hotter from the unceasing pound of the Butcher’s Nails, “I KILLED MY FATHER IN THE ARENA!!! AND NOW YOU…!!!” Atalanta roared again, furious at her father’s blankness. “NOW YOU HAVE COME TO HAUNT ME WITH THAT MEMORY!?!?!” The Daemon roared, foam beginning to froth and spew from her gnashing maw. But underneath, Atalanta didn’t wish for anything to do with killing her father for a second time. The rigid posture of the Doom Marine remained unchanging, regardless of anything Atalanta had said or the unnaturally bloody and destructive realm he now stood knee deep in. Atalanta realized it was fruitless to try and have her father adhere to her, no matter how much she’s shout and threaten him with.

“Don’t…DON’T DO THIS TO ME!!!” She screamed again, a strange black ooze beginning to leak from her eyes. “I ALREADY KILLED ONE FATHER!!! DON’T MAKE ME KILL ANOTHER!!! I DON’T CARE HOW HARD AND HOW FAR THE NAILS BITE!!! I DON’T CARE IF THE BLOOD GOD HIMSELF NOW WATCHES!!! I WON’T DO THIS!!! I WON’T KILL YOU!!! I WON’T KILL MY OWN FATHER, AGAIN!!!!!” The viewers around the Arena fell silent from Atalanta’s speech, but Lover still remained ridged and unmoving. The black ooze started leaking more and more from Atalanta’s eyes as it dripped onto the bloodied ground like hot magma. Atalanta was crying. For what seemed like the first time since, the Gladiator Primarch shed tears. Lover remained unflinching even while Atalanta stood tall over him. Then…his Praetor Helmet crackled, “And you won’t have to…daughter.” Without another word, Lover leveled his Super Shotgun before blasting a hail of shrapnel at Atalanta. The Daemon Primarch just roared before swinging Spinegrinder across the Arena at the man who was not only Doom, but was also her father. Expecting to have cleaved through Lover with little effort, Atalanta noticed a lightning flash of movement that was followed by another thunderous blast from behind her.

The projectile was much more powerful than the shotgun blast, and Atalanta turned around to see an unscathed Lover holding his Arballist with another blast firing and lodging into one of the arms of Atalanta’s wings. Atalanta reached up and yanked the bolt from her wing as the wing arm’s wound closed, “YOU CAN’T WIN, FATHER!!! NOT IN THIS REALM!!! I WILL KILL YOU, AND ADD YOUR SKULL TO MY CHAINS!!!” Atalanta roared in another guttural threat, though the black ooze still leaked from her face. “You’re scared.” Lover blankly stated, making Atalanta’s eyes widen in disbelief, “SCARED!?!?! I AM THE DAEMON PRIMARCH OF KHORNE!!! I AM ABOVE FEAR!!!” Atalanta, or more accurately, the daemon roared at such a notion. “I wasn’t speaking to you…daemon.” The Doom Marine growled back. Atalanta just screamed in rage before lunging at her father again. The viewers roared out in angry approval, thinking their Champion would finally end the existence of the Doom Slayer. But their expectations were far from fulfilled, as Atalanta saw another flash of movement before getting several micro-missiles thumping into her back.

The Daemon Primarch wiped around again, but instead got several red blasts of powerful energy beams blasted into her chest. Atalanta staggered back, growling in some form of agony that for once wasn’t caused by the incessant pounding of the Nails. Atalanta looked to see Lover holding a strange relic weapon, the creation of it looking far more foreign and alien compared to any other weapon Atalanta had seen. What was more, the word Unmaykr, glowed red on the weapon, making it all the more clear that the weapon wasn’t of this reality. “…Kar…en…tuk…” a voice suddenly cut through the air, “WHO SAID THAT!?!” Atalanta screamed at the crowd of spectators, but none of them answered. Then the voice returned, with a more aggressive tone to it. “Kar…En…Tuk.” Atalanta continued looking around the Arena for whoever was speaking, her easily stoked rage fuming again. “WHO SAID THAT!!! SHOW YOURSELF!!!!!!” The Daemon Primarch roared again, load enough to make the arena lightly shake, yet all she got in return was…more voices screaming…

“KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!! KAR EN TUK!!!”

The entire Citadel seemed to shake as what seemed to be a choir of lost and damed souls screamed in guttural rage. “I will heed your call.” The man the daemons knew as Doom, but as Atalanta had called father pulled out his super shotgun and crammed two fresh shells into the barrel. Atalanta looked to her father before receiving a blast of shotgun shrapnel for the second time, “FINE!!! ENOUGH WORDS!!!” She screamed as she powered through the shotgun blast, her weapons raising again for the kill. Lover didn’t avoid the attack this time, instead blasting his daemonic daughter once more with the Unmaykr, the red blasts blunting the charging Daemon Primarch as she recoiled in pain once more. Atalanta’s daemonic body managed to repair the damage, but her attacks were haphazard and easily avoidable as her body struggled to heal the damage. Lover dashed to the right and blasted at Atalanta again with his super shotgun, dodging another strike from Samni’arius as Atalanta spun in a bladed whirlwind, with several smaller daemons getting scythed through as they had been summoned into the Arena for carnage and battle.

A Bloodletter came from behind Lover, it’s Hellblade raised, but got a blast of shotgun lead to its chest followed by a curb stomp onto its face. “KILL HIM!!!” Atalanta roared as she attacked again, with Lover jumped onto the back of a Daemon Prince and using it as a shield against the much larger Daemon Primarch. The Khornate Daemon Prince, though a savage monster and combatant, was easily crushed by Atalanta as she rabidly tore through it to get at her supposed victim. The Doom Marine grappled onto his traitorous daughter’s head, followed by embedding his Praetorblade into Atalanta’s eye. The Daemon Primarch screamed in agony as she yanked Lover away from her face and throwing him across the Arena, the Doom Slayer slamming against the wall feet-first, crushing a daemon underneath the treads of his boots. Atalanta crawled at her eye wound in irritation, “I’LL KILL YOU!!! RRRRRRRAAAAAAGH!!!” Atalanta soared into the air on her black wings before crashing back down onto the Arena floor, crushing anything and everything underneath her hooves while thrashing at Lover with recklessly wild abandon. Lover continued dodging and evading Atalanta’s attacks, as his armor only barely managed to hold up against Atalanta’s savage strength when she threw him into the wall.

Lover shot the meathook into Atalanta’s wing arm, pulling him closer before he shredded the Daemon Primarch’s wing with a blast from his shotgun. Atalanta swiped at Lover with Samni’arius again, but instead of striking him, she struck her own wing, permanently crippling her right wing as it got severed from her body. Another blast from the super shotgun tore up Atalanta’s other wing, the Daemon Primarch slashing Spinegrinder at her father again, though she only shredded more daemons that had summoned into the Arena. Even with the proximity of so much carnage, Atalanta’s body couldn’t heal or change its form thanks to the effects of the Unmaykr. Another disgruntled and guttural scream from the choir erupted into the Arena as Lover continued ripping and tearing through all the daemons that came his way.

“KAR…EN…TUK!!! KAR…EN…TUK!!! KAR…EN…TUK!!! KAR…EN…TUK!!!”

They screamed in a tormenting chant at Atalanta, furthering the Nail’s continued biting into the Daemon Primarch’s skull. Lover on the other hand, simply continued sawing through daemons, the choir of damed souls seemingly chanting in awe of the Doom Slayer, while still screaming in fear of the avenging god that was Doom. Lover tore out a spine with a Bloodletter’s head still attached, followed by a Chaos Spawn getting cleaved in two with a fiery red sword in Lover’s grasp. Atalanta roared again as she charged back into the fray, hacking and slashing in a murderous fever to kill. Despite his smaller size, Lover actually managed to parry the Atalanta’s strikes with Samni’arius, and avoided Spinegrinder as it was brought down onto another Chaos Spawn, crushing and pulping the vile and slathering monster. Atalanta felt a pair of large bolts punch through her back and exit out through her chest, making the Daemon Primarch scream as blood splattered from her chest and mouth. Lover clutched the Arballist in his hands, and let off a few more bolts into the rushing horde of daemons.

Atalanta fell to one knee as her wounds now weren’t healing, the Unmaykr’s blasts finally having eaten away the last of Atalanta’s regenerative power. Pulling the bolts from her chest, Atalanta thrashed out in another bladed whirlwind that either mutilated and mangled corpses, or killed more daemons in the Primarch’s fury. But her strength was starting to wane, as without her wounds being able to heal from all the carnage and death around her, Atalanta could feel victory slipping away. “THIS IS…I WON’T ACCEPT THIS!!! YOU WON’T DEFEAT ME!!!” She may have screamed it, but Lover could tell it wasn’t Atalanta speaking to him. Now, it was time to get what he came to this hellish place for. Taking up the Crucible in his hands, the Doom Marine crushed a Daemon Prince’s head before tossing the daemon aside. “Then come take your prize.” The blank voice of Lover cracked up behind his helmet. Atalanta roared as she used the last of her body’s strength to lunge at her father one last time in the Daemon’s attempt to kill him. The Doom Slayer leaned back. Before imbedding the Crucible right into Atalanta’s throat, twisted the red blade…before decapitating the Primarch’s head from her body.

Instead of thrashing or lashing out one more time to kill, Atalanta’s body just stopped, then collapsed down into the blood drenched floor of the Arena. The crowd of Blood God devotees who had gathered to watch let out a savage cheer despite the victor being their enemy, some even going as far to shouting, “Rip and Tear! Rip and Tear!! Rip and Tear!!!” Lover didn’t care as he took out another one of his glowing medallions and held it over Atalanta’s corpse. The corpse heaved as its soul was drained away into the medallion. As the Doom Marine finished claiming his prize, he looked at the medallion…seeing the face of his daughter, now freed from her shackles of rage as she gently smiled at her father. “Thank you, father.” The medallion spoke, causing a small grin to spread on Lover’s lips behind his helmet. Placing the medallion onto his belt, Lover summoned his portal before stepping out of the Blood God’s domain. Once the Doom Slayer stepped through to the other side of the portal, he found himself in a temple where a giant stone statue stood domineeringly over the hollowed and empty room Lover now found himself in.

It didn’t take Lover more than one second to realize what temple he was in, as the giant statue’s grandeur and form was evident that this wasn’t a temple dedicated to the Chaos Gods. It was a temple meant for the worship of….her. “…My love…how did it ever come to this.”

————————————————————————————

So let’s leave it at that. Once again, many thanks to u/Prophet_XV for drawing these amazing images. Took me long enough to finally finish this story so I could actually use them. Life’s still been busy with school, especially since it’s getting close to the end of my first course, which means more homework before the end. But I’ll still be able to make the next one of these, it’ll just take me longer to get it finished…well, it’s not like it hadn’t already taken me an age to complete this. So with that, hope you enjoyed what you read!

Lover decided watching fireworks was better than Lyana and Juno drunkenly strip while drinking with Slayer and Centurion.

Artist: Podobrick

So I believe someone had asked this, I don’t remember. But in light of it being Father’s Day, what do you all think the Primarchs would get for Lover, or Eternal of you prefer him still being their dad.

And what do you think each of the Astartes Legions would do for the SO’s on Father’s Day.

Also at the end of this mini series. Not the second to last post as after all the Primarchs get a song sung to them, there’s still one other girl Lover has to give a lullaby to. But before we get there, it’s Mortaria’s turn to get a little song from Daddy Lover.

————————————————————————————

Mortaria struggled to breathe easy as she fumbled to get the oxygen mask onto her face. Once she got it onto her face, her raggedy breathing became steady as her lungs inhaled the fresh and soothing oxygen. It was the last thing she had that reminded her of her precious Lily, who just like the other boys, had gone off on another guys trip. Mortaria’s mother had done her best to put Mortaria to bed, but it didn’t seem to matter. Without Lily by her side, Mortaria’s ability to breathe became harder. It didn’t make sense to the Death Guard Primarch how or why she could breathe easier when Lily was close, but she didn’t care about the “how” or “why” of any of that. She simply cared that Lily had moved mountains to nurse and heal her and her legion back to health. She may not have been the best at being a mother or a wife, but Lily always showed that he still loved Mortaria.

“Hey Morta?” A small voice caught Mortaria’s attention, and she turned to the door of her room to see her father. “What’s the matter? Why aren’t you asleep?” Lover asked, the Little Emperor closing the door behind him before approaching his daughter’s bed. Mortaria hadn’t had the best relationship with her adoptive father, and such an experience colored her initially view of Lover. Yet, she very quickly realized how different Lover was from her tormenting necromancer father. “Hey. Morta. What are you doing still awake?” Lover asked again. Mortaria suddenly pulled Lover into a hug, something not know for the Death Guard Primarch to do, given how she always wore gloves to avoid touching anyone else. “Woah. Woah, woah, woah. What’s wrong? Are you having trouble breathing?” Lover asked, noticing the wheezing breathes Mortaria was inhaling. “Y-Yes…b-but it’s not because of my lungs.” Mortaria answered. Hearing that, Lover didn’t need to be told what else was wrong, as he’d be one very dense fool if he couldn’t see the pattern with all his daughters.

“It’s Lily.” The Little Emperor muttered, prepared for Mortaria to weep and wallow in anguished cries of despair. The Death Guard Primarch did nothing to hide her tears, as she had no rhyme or reason to look strong in front of her father. He was not only here to try and comfort her, but he was very much correct in his statement. It was Lily. Just like all her sisters, her husband was all that Mortaria could think about. “I-I…I miss him. Maybe…more than I should. But I just…I just can’t help it.” Mortaria sobbed as she continued to hold her stepfather close. Lover simply rubbed Mortaria’s back, while also trying to rock Mortaria to the best of his ability, except Mortaria’s size and her currently ridged posture made that a challenging task. “Shhhh. Shhhhh. It’s going to be alright, Morta. Everything is okay.” Lover tried his best to soothe Mortaria, his calm voice helping Mortaria to settle down from her tantrum. “Here. Lay back down. Let me put the mask back on, and just breathe.” Lover instructed, with Mortaria following her father’s instructions.

Lover placed the breathing mask back over Mortaria’s face, with Mortaria starting to breathe more gently and calmly as Lover set something down on the bedside table. “You want me to sing something to help you go back to sleep?” The Little Emperor asked, earning a slow nod from Mortaria. “Want to lay your head on my chest?” Lover asked, again. Mortaria clutched a hand onto her oxygen mask as she pressed the side of her face into her father’s chest. The steady beat of Lover’s heart in Mortaria’s ear helped calm her further as the small yet strong beat of the Little Emperor’s heart resembling Lily’s. “Cozy?” Lover smiled as he gently brushed the side of the Pale Queen’s face. “Never really thought I’d say yes to my father about something like comfort.” Mortaria muttered, the healthy oxygen still entering her lungs helping to further soothe the Death Guard.

“And I never thought I’d be married to a giantess in golden armor, helping to be a father to eighteen giant daughters. But life always tends to throw more than a few curveballs. And I haven’t regretted where I’ve ended up.” Lover smiled at his daughter, earning him a warm smile from Mortaria. “Well…when you put it like that. I guess anything can happen. Including having a father who actually cares.” The Primarch retorted. “Especially having a father that cares.” Lover gently caressed the side of Mortaria’s face, while also brushing aside some strains of hair. Mortaria closed her eyes and just focused on her breathing and the sound of her father’s heartbeat, with Lover reaching for what he had placed on the bedside table and pressing a small button. Mortaria realized it was his little music box her father always carried around with him, “Just relax and breathe. I’ll start singing.” Lover then cleared his throat as he began softly humming with the tune of the song.

“Break the hard chains of fate
Roads we walk we create
For our futures are wide and vast.
To respect and respond
To add strength to our bond
Cast the fury into the past.
I can choose to be better at last.

Through all the pain I’ve grown.
Warm up this old heart of stone.
Leave the hurt behind
Tearing the threads of the tethers
Leave the hurt behind
We can choose to be better.
We can choose to be better!

…

Crush the bones of despair
In the jaws of the bear
Prophecies may come to pass.
Keep the beast deep within
Always under the skin
Let in claw through the mirror’s glass.
I can choose to be better at last.

And even a hard of stone.
Can warm when no longer alone.
Leave the hurt behind
Tearing the threads of the tethers
Leave the hurt behind
We can choose to be better.
We can choose to be better!

•••

In this winter of woe
Seeds of Hope they still grow
Sheets of white over rock and grass.
From contempt I have turned
Now I’m just trying to learn
Burning skies now overcast.
I can choose to be better at last!

Leave the hurt behind
Tearing the threads of the tethers
Leave the hurt behind
We can choose to be better.
Leave the hurt behind
Tearing the threads of the tethers
Leave the hurt behind
We can choose to be better.
We can choose to be better!”

The music slowly died down as Lover finished, feeling a heavier weight on his chest as Mortaria had fallen into deep slumber, the sound of the mask feeding oxygen into her lungs with every breath along with a slight snoring being all the noise the Death Guard Primarch made. Lover carefully weaseled his way out from underneath Mortaria’s sleeping body, taking his music box before turning to look at the gently slumbering visage of his Pale daughter. Smiling again, the Little Emperor leaned over Mortaria’s cheek and gently kissed it. The Pale Queen lightly shuffled in her sleep as she unconsciously let up a smile, “Goodnight, my Little Reaper.” Lover whispered before quietly leaving Mortaria’s room. Once out of the room, Lover looked down the halls and saw Leona’s bedroom light still on, and with a deep sighing breath, he murmured, “Last one.” Before quietly walking down the very end of the hallway and just as quietly, knocked on Leona’s door before saying, “Leona, sweetie. Are you alright?”

————————————————————————————

Almost the end of this series. Originally, I was going to have the song be Imagine Dragons’s >!Radioactive!<, given Mortaria’s biohazardous stench, but went with Miracle of Sound’s >!To Be Better!< as I felt the message in that song was a more soothing tone. And also because to my mind, Mortaria seems of the type that’d never want to change until Lily came along. And so the message of choosing ‘To be better,’ fits with Mortaria’s character. And next up, we have Leona, and I do have a song picked out for her, but feel free to recommend another, as I might use that song instead of I think it’s a better theme for Leona. But until then, hope you enjoyed.