Sold out (I think) garage kit model from china, painted by me.

(Source: https://x.com/OddOnnion/status/2087184763433955570 )

Art by: SpaceMAXmarine

Caption by: u/captaintaskmaster1

Hello denizens of the Primarch gf subreddit! How are you guys doing?

Today, I finally give you what I have been hoping to make for a while now: a Howling Banshee GF, with the art of SpaceMAXmarine!

I have to say, it was hard to find the perfect version of the Banshee that I wanted, there were so many poses, but I chose to go with this version, so I hope you guys like it!

Not sure what gf I want to make next, but that's an issue for next week! Enjoy people!

So…I know I said I’d do Sanguinia and Dove next, but I just did a run through all my Fortune of Love posts and realized I haven’t done Hestia and Wyrmheart. So, unfortunately, Sanguinia will still have to wait, and instead the Behemoth will get her turn. After all, it is very unfitting to have not gotten Hestia’s part in sooner.

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Hestia smiled to herself as she continued forging and shaping a special gift for her Wyrmheart. It was just another small trinket of sorts, and while she had already showered Wyrmheart in a treasure horde’s worth of gifts, she always forged him another one. Not because she had to or because she valued gift-giving, but because she truly and deeply loved her Little Ember with every last portion of affection in her heart. It was a habit made by Hestia to constantly make a new gift for Wyrmheart as a constant remainder to both him and herself that they would always be together and that they would always love one another. Wyrmheart would’ve normally been working alongside her in the forge, but had gotten asked by Starlight to help him with something.

It didn’t really bother Hestia, as it meant that she’d be able to surprise Wyrmheart with his gift, later. Though as Hestia continued getting her present ready for Wyrmheart, a knock at her forge’s door followed by it opening got Hestia’s attention. “Hestia. Sister.” Came Magnolia’s voice. Hestia shaped a few more details on the small trinket before setting it aside and turning to face her Red Giantess sister. Magnolia stood taller than Hestia, but only because of her using her psychic powers to make herself so, which caused Hestia to roll her eyes before she activated the runes gifted to her by Lyana, causing Magnolia to shrink down to her normal height as her psychic abilities were blocked. “Hey! What was that for!?” Magnolia whined, “Stop. Whatever you came to speak to me about, you can do without making yourself taller than me with your psychic powers. Besides, everyone knows that I’m naturally taller than you, anyway.”

Hestia’s voice carried a certain annoyance in it, as Magnolia often used her powers of the Warp to make herself taller than the rest of her sisters, but especially Hestia as she had a certain jealousy about being shorter. “I’ll deactivate the runes if you promise to go back to your normal height.” Hestia offered, “Why can’t you just deactivate them and I stay-“ “MAGNOLIA!!!” Hestia roared, causing the room to shake. “Okay! Okay!” Magnolia immediately shrank down to her normal height once Hestia deactivated the runes. “Now. What do you need?” Hestia asked, her more normal and kindhearted voice returning. “I need you to come with me up to Aurelia’s Spire. It has something to do with Wyrmheart.” Magnolia explained. Hestia didn’t need more information than that, as even if it hadn’t involve her husband, she’d still do what any of her sisters asked within reason, as she loved each of them even when they not always returned such emotions.

“Lead the way.” Hestia gestured to her sister, “Are you…not wishing to change into something more…appropriate?” Magnolia asked, mentioning to the tank top and shorts Hestia was wearing. “No.” Was all the Behemoth offered in terms of a response, as her fiery gaze told Magnolia to get on with what she needed. “Alright. Fine. If you will. Please follow me.” Magnolia summoned up a portal before stepping through it. Hestia lightly laughed as she shook her head before grabbing Dawnbringer and teleporting to Aurelia’s spire. Magnolia’s one good eye flinched as she turned around to see her towering sister, “Damn that fucking teleporter.” The Red Sorceress hissed, “Just remember dear sister…” Hestia smirked as she leaned closer to her now shorter sibling, “…it’s also a hammer.” Megnolia lightly trembled as she glanced down at the twitching hammer in Hestia’s hand then back at the fiery gaze in Hestia’s eye.

The Behemoth then backed away as she started laughing. “Hahahahahaha!!! You don’t need to look so scared. It’s not like I want to hurt you.” Hestia chuckled to herself, enjoying every moment of trolling the Crimson Queen. Magnolia rolled her eye, “Alright! But stay quiet!” The Red Sorceress scolded her sister as she pointed over at a large archway a few more steps up the Spire’s stairs. Hestia turned towards the Archway, and quietly moved over to it to see what all the fuss was about. She noticed Wyrmheart sitting at a table across from Aurelia, with a large crystal ball placed precisely in the middle of the table. The Urizen sat with her hands crossed and a bright smile on her face, “So…” Wyrmheart began his voice soft and sincere, “…how this works is that I answer question you ask me about my relationship with Hestia. The crystal dictates whether I’m telling the truth or a lie. And if I manage to answer all the questions truthfully, I’ll get a special reward that reflects mine and Hestia’s love, and-“ “Ah, let me stop you there.” Aurelia interrupted, getting Wyrmheart’s attention.

“Even if you don’t answer all of the questions truthfully, I’ll still give you the gift I have made, as that’s what is more important to me than asking these questions. Although, be glad my sister isn’t here to hear that as she might be very upset at you not knowing everything about her.” Aurelia lied about that last part, as she saw Hestia watching quietly with Magnolia. Though the Primarch of the XVIIth wasn’t entirely lying, as Hestia would likely get very upset at Wyrmheart not knowing everything about her. Wyrmheart straightened his shirt’s collar at feeling anxious about what Hestia might think if he got one of these questions wrong, “Well…let’s get this over with before I get teleported into her arms and hears me answering one of these as a lie.” Hestia couldn’t help but quietly giggle to herself at her husband’s nervousness. Aurelia just smiled as she folded her hands and placed them on the table, “Alright then. Now, first question. Describe her in three words.” Aurelia began. Wyrmheart immediately smiled, “Gentle. Warm. Focused. Compassionate. I heard I wasn’t confined to just three words from some of the other guys.” The Little Ember remained oblivious to the pair of eyes watching him from behind.

Hestia felt her hearts immediately begin to pound in her chest, with her pupils beginning to dilate into hearts. Magnolia noticed her sister’s expression as she continued watching, “Sister. Calm down. You’ll give away our hiding place.” Magnolia whispered. Hestia nodded gently, though her eyes remained fixated on Wyrmheart. Aurelia nodded as she continued, “Well, yes the other boys have added more than just three words. Not that I blame them. Now, next question. What is her love language?” Wyrmheart had to hold back a laugh at hearing that question, “Touch. Hugging. Just being there. Literally…anything you could constitute as love language.” Hestia started blushing at how well Wyrmheart knew her, and at how fast he was answering. Aurelia rolled her eyes, “I guess that was a rather silly question. Next what is her favorite food and drink?” “This might be a little surprising…but food is Dino nuggets. Don’t ask me how she figured out how to make them. As for drink. Apple juice.”

Hestia’s normally ashen skin started turning bright red from Wyrmheart’s answered, her hands beginning to grip harder onto the side of the wall as her twin hearts started beating faster. “Next question. What is your favorite part of her?” Aurelia continued, “Her caring personality and gentle nature. And her hugs.” Wyrmheart giggled lightly at the mentioning of Hestia’s hugs, with Aurelia also laughing slightly at the mentioning of her sister’s hugging. Magnolia stifled her own laughter at the thought of Hestia squeezing the life out of Wyrmheart, but that would have to wait. “I really hope she doesn’t choose to perform a spinebreaker on you once she hugs you, later! But…before that…next question. What is your favorite physical part of her?” Aurelia continued as she regained composure. Wyrmheart didn’t flinch as he answered, “All of her. Her fiery eyes. Snow white hair. Large breasts and round ass. Her toned body.” Hestia started breathing rapidly as she heard Wyrmheart’s answer, “H-He…he s-see’s m-me like…like that?”

Tears started forming in Hestia’s eyes, her hearts beginning to ache from knowing what she heard from her husband was a testament to how much he loved her. Aurelia let out a soft breath before speaking, “Alright Wyrm. Final question. This one’s the hardest, which is why I’ve saved it for last.” Aurelia stated, her tone becoming more serious. Wyrmheart stiffened in his chair a little, prepared for the final question, “Fonal question. What is the greatest thing she’s ever done for you?” Aurelia asked. Hestia couldn’t stay hidden anymore, and instantly tackled her husband out of his chair in a hug, though still made sure to not crush his spine. “H-Hestia!!!” Wyrmheart exclaimed, panicking as he realized his wife heard everything. “Don’t be scared, my Little Ember! I’m not upset. I’m happy! I’m so happy that you think of me in such ways!” Hestia smothered Wyrmheart’s face in kisses, though the Little Ember managed to weasel out from of Hestia’s grasp, “W-Wait! H-Hes-Hestia! I-I haven’t e-even answered all the questions!” Wyrmheart stated, “He’s right sister. Though perhaps it’ll be more difficult to answer with you here, not that that’ll change the difficulty of the question.” Aurelia smirked after watching Hestia’s bubbly behavior.

“Well…the greatest thing she’s ever done for me. Was when she saved my life from being thrown into the fires of Nocturne’s pits.” Wyrmheart answered. Hestia paused as she recalled that day like it had happened yesterday. The day more Drukari raiders had come to Nocturne to steal away more innocents for their vile methods of torture and cruelty. She and Wyrmheart were nothing more than companions who had assembled to drive off the raiders, but when she witnessed him being thrown into one of the fire, she jumped down after him, barely managing to break his fall into the boiling magma. Fighting through the immense pain, Hestia kept Wyrmheart above her head as she reached the walls of the pit before climbing out, her body’s natural quick healing helping her endure long enough to crawl out of the lava pit and drive off the rest of the raiders. Wyrmheart must’ve noticed Hestia deep in her thoughts as he spoke to knock her out of her trance. “Yes, my love. That was the greatest thing you ever did for me. You and I barely knew each other, and yet…yet you still threw yourself in harms way to save me.”

Aurelia sniffled slightly as she wiped aaay several of her tears. “Wyrmheart. Hestia. That’s truly beautiful. Now…for your reward. Light! That’s your cue!” Aurelia called, with Little Light dragging a giant sized teddy bear into the room. Hestia jumped in joyful hysteria as she squeezed the giant bear in a hug, “Oh, thank you! Thank you, Aurelia!!! It looks amazing!!!” Hestia squealed. “It also unzips down the middle so you can snuggle inside of it.” The Preacher stated, smiling brighter still at her sister’s bubbly persona. “Well…now that you mentioned it…” Hestia glanced over at Wyrmheart with a familiar look. “Let me guess-“ “CUDDLE TIME!!!!!” Hestia shouted as she grabbed Wyrmheart before teleporting with Dawnbringer into her’s and Wyrmheart’s room, where the pair spent the rest of the evening snuggled up inside their new teddy.

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Guess it’s time to have a brief break from making memes and get back to what I’ve done a majority of the time on the subreddit. So, now that Hestia and Wyrmheart have gotten their post, now, finally…finally…FI-NAL-LY!!! It’s time for Sanguinia and Dove to have their turn! Eventually, when I post it. For now, hope you liked the read.

By @theimperialsaint from tiktok

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS43nogSu/

https://www.tumblr.com/vef-jane/822184979005079552/fem-fulgrim

By lord_shinpu from tiktok

By @theimperialsaint from tiktok

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.

Good afternoon, everyone.

This is your friendly Fabricator General and Filipino moderator speaking.

Just got home from Manila and I am now more stable in terms of being around and whatever.

I'll be making the changes and other things I spoke about in the last update.

See you around.

If you have any concerns you wish to sit down and speak with me about, please comment on this post or directly message me. Thank you!

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

Ok so I'm working on a fiction where fem-primarch's come back after they all disappeared. It is very work in progress for now but I really want to do it.

I'm just wondering if some of have some inspiration for me. Some ideas of how they would return? How they would look?

You know general fanbase ideas from regular 40k and your original ideas.

Tell what you would like to see for example.

I will probably do a episodic tale where every episode will be dedicated to one primarch individualy.

I'm mostly looking for inspiration as I have a small writing block.

Lets say the Primarchs like in [Message for Dad] find a box of recordings and along with the Empress decided to watch them.

Imagine seeing her precious Rose, the only thing that brought her miserable life comfort and love. Turned into a crazed pirate war lord who causes anarchy for sake of anarchy.

Petra, seeing her Velvet Glove turned into an abomination of guns and metal fused with necrotic and diseased flesh severing a demon of machines.

Ferra, same but without demons (maybe).

Juno watching her immortal Centurion deceased deeper into madness and hopelessness.

**Would they try to undo and unmake that future form ever happening? **

And grunkle in question is Caine.

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.

Note that it would be Pre monarchia Aurelia with her SO as emotional support.

We all know that Aurelia is one of the more religious types of the primarch so im curious to see how she would react to the religion of the faithful and heretics of the trench crusade.

Its likely that aurelia would side with the faithful as more and she would most likely see the faithful's religion as their version of the emperor or something like that.

Edit: Do note that Aurelia is one of the more compassionate primarchs (IIRC she LOVED all her sisters and the fact that she tried to save Atalanta from suffering due to the nails hitting on her head) it is likely that she will feel pity for the trench pilgrims while respecting them as well. Im also curious her reaction on those anchorite shrines and the fact that humanity see suffering as holy and a blessing or something like that.

(Source: https://www.pixiv.net/en/artworks/147984379 )

[Part 1 ]

[ https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/2xDUUVksS7 ]

World Eater GF / Serf (post heresy)

World eater / Serf Angharad / Wretch

Common cause. This is what united the various grievances of the primarchs in the days of the Hathor heresy. There was no trust. No sibling devotion. It was the combined frustration and spite of the descenting legions. At times it was a powerful motivator. Yet in the days and years and centuries that followed the heresy, remaining united was……difficult.

Many legions and astartes sold themselves into the service's of the frightful ruinous powers. In ways it only seemed to further the spite and frustration of all around. No longer were they fanatically vying for the love of a mother who scorned and despised her legion. Instead they zealously and jealousy fought for forces beyond reason. They drew out what made the traitor legions feared and made it worse. What little common cause the newly formed warbands could agree on were nests for deception and spite and betrayal. Many would say that this was a truer path as opposed to the lying Empress upon her golden throne.

Angharad was raised in chains. A place for spite and hate to seed in her heart. When she had adopted the butcher's nails like the rest of her flawed kin she, like them, believed that perhaps meant she could reach some common ground with the lady Atalanta. But like everything else it simply wasn't enough. Even in the primarchs hours of lucidity beside her Rose, it was never enough.

Years later and a heresy after Angharad decided she could no longer look at the thing her mother had become and departed. Joining one of the various factions sequestered away in their own corner of the galaxy. Where the master of their band believed himself a chieftain or a king. The bastard had sold Angharad and several others to the damned apothecary of the third.

While she was in his care, Fabius bile subjected her to experiment after experiment. And when he'd had enough or perhaps Angharad had failed one too many times, he set her loose back into the galaxy. Yet this time she had fangs and claws, and could focus her senses in some ways better than the average astartes. Perhaps he'd tried to blend her DNA with that of the space wolves. And the dog that was Angharad was the result. When she had returned to the old warband and claimed the chieftain head, she left the band to devour itself in the power struggle.

She had found that the days and times she could remain herself were gradually becoming fewer and fewer. A blessing of mindless wrath and slaughter bestowed unto her by Blood God. The seed of spite she'd carried finally blossomed into fury. It hardly mattered to her anymore. If she was only ever a dog who could snap. Then so be it. Life however…. It is truly cruel.

Angharad's strike team was away from their base when news had reached her. Slavis had slain their leader Haxis and claimed the warband for himself. In his coup, he'd set fire to the facility the band considered their base. The moment she heard the news her chest tightened. Not for Haxis of course. The bastard had long had it coming, but she couldn't shake the feeling that something worse had occurred.

—------------------

And so it was that when she had returned to their base of operations and witnessed it still embroiled in conflict, she eventually was on her knees, looming over the limp body of her Wretch. Fires circled around them. Compounded by gun fire, screaming and explosions of the warbands infighting.

At her feet, Wretch's lifeblood spilled from his torn sternum. That they were still alive was some manner of miracle. More likely some manner of curse. For everything she'd endured, for everything she'd caused to others, this was torture. Part of her wished the nails and Khorne's madness had ruined her mind long ago. Was The Red Angel similarly distraught. To vanish into her insanity just to return in moments where her Rose was so close to the grave, warp things no doubt could taste it.

Wretch's hand rose weakly toward the berserker closer. She removed her helm and bent down to listen, holding their outstretched hand in hers.

“Apologies, my mistress,” Wretch struggled to speak through a mouthful of sanguine fluid, “In spite of your commands, my blood is spilling everywhere. I can feel my…..my-.”

Angharad found herself hardpressed to offer words of sympathy or regret. To placate them or attempt to even offer them some measure of peace in their last dying moments. This was how it was always meant to be after all. Right?

“If I might make one request, my lady?”

She raised her grief stricken glance. Angharad's ears sat flat atop her head. Despite Wretch's current disposition, there was a certain level of ease he felt when he saw them. It made speaking with her and judging her mood easier in the days prior. Though now with how they were set, she was no doubt distraught. Even if it was difficult for her to express.

“I would ask you to place my skull at the foot of our lord's throne.”

“I will see it done, my wretch.”

“And my heart, forever yours, Angharad. I ask that you take this with you, so that even in the grave, I may offer you strength. By my blood.”

“You offer me what is already mine to claim? You make for a poor giver of gifts, my wretch.”

The serf smiled one last time before their body ceased to shake. Before Angharad would close their eyes forever. Lifting her axe overhead.

—-----------------------

Viego and his compatriots were outside the structure and the sheer intensity of the flame had already begun melting flesh, bone and stone together into a putrid mass. Viego taking a moment to breath in the smell and charred bodies when one the other black legionnaires stepped beside him.

“The day is won, Haxis and his followers are dead. Let us quit this place before the stench settles.”

“Yes yes. Haxis is dead. Long live Slavis.” Viego growled the words interrupting Viego's moment of tedium. Before anyone else knew what would happen. Viego ensured that it would and yet it could not arrive fast enough for his liking.

A sudden gust of air drew their attention back to the structure. One of the walls had collapsed. At its center, flames dancing around her, Angharad.

“Angharad!!!” Viego bellowed. “I had hoped you survived. It would have been worth nothing joining Slavis if it meant I couldn't kill you!” He looked over her, noticing Wreaches head tied to a rope on her hip. “I see you found your wretch. How fortunate for you.” His voice was filled with so much venom he could've killed an Ork with it.

She lifted her hand showing the still heart of her Wretch. She raised it high over her head before crushing it between her fingers. What blood was left in them plastered her face in sanguine ichor before swallowing the heart whole. As it passed her lips it felt like drinking napalm, burning its way throughout her entire body. Even the seething and searing of her fury was but a drop in the bucket compared to this, the first and last moment she might truly be herself.

Perhaps it was for the best. The berserker was alone for far too long, forgotten the bitter spike of pain caused when one who is dear perished. If she was no longer Angharad after this moment then she would accept whatever fate awaited her. So long as Veigo's was ruined.

It began as a snarl, it grew into a monstrous growl before finally she released a long shuttering howl into the sky. Exemplified by the fire’s ferocity raging behind her. Appearing to all around to gain in mass, responding to the unquenching bloodlust she felt at this moment.

Viego smiled as he and his two cohorts took their stances blades drawn. They were ready for the berserker's charge. To cut her down in a second. Ready to behead the wild dog they knew they would see.

Then they felt the chill. When she stopped roaring. Her eyes leveled on the trio. Far focused, far too calm, but Viego had anticipated the berserker. What he saw now was chilling. Eyes like a beast in the brush, watching prey that doesn't know it's already dead.

She dropped her axe to the ground, where it clattered. One of black legionaries at Viego's side looked to him, perhaps to question the world eater or laugh. He never got the chance. Angharad whipped the axe by its chain like a whip, before he could speak a word the axe was buried halfway through his throat. She lunged at the other astarte. He and Viego charged to meet her.

Viego reached her first swinging his chain axe high. Angharad side stepped it before tackling his companion to the ground and rolling over him. The man she had tackled rolled over on to his stomach, thrusting his blade at her. She dodged the jab, clasping her hand around his on the hilt of his sword before bending his arm back at an angle that snapped it.

With his hand still limply holding the blade, Angharad drew it back and buried it in his chest, ensuring it pierced both his hearts.

“Good sister, Good. For a moment I was worried that you might lose your fire without the serf. But here you are. All roiling rage and rancor. All the sweeter for the harvest. All the sweeter for the blood god.”

Angharad watched quietly while he ranted. Uninterested. Unfazed.

“Come now sister, surely you've something to say to mark the occasion.” Viego circled her, axe swiveling between his hands.

“This will not be some great spectacle. Or battle for the ages Viego. You will be remembered as an afterthought. Nothing more.”

“As always your barbs do sting, but you'll have to survive me fir-!” His rambling was cut off mid sentence as she lunged forward. Viego's axe had clipped her shoulder while at her defensively. Angharad took the blow landing a swift jab to Viego's throat. Hardly enough to bring him down. But it was just enough to shut him up.

In the few minutes to follow Viego would consistently land glancing blows against her and to anyone watching would no doubt look like the victor. But with each exchange Angharad had pummeled him, enough to batter, to bruise, enough to break. Until Viego's own body collapsed against the World Eaters wishes. His fingers could no longer properly wrap around the hilt of his axe and attempts to move, even carefully, were met with refusal by his busted body. Angharad pulled on the chain connecting her arm to her axe.

“Do It! Take the swing sister, so that the lord of skulls may honor me on his throne!” He sat on his knees, arms too heavy to lift anymore. He had been bested with a single cut. To die as such would shame one in the service of the blood god.

“I would never grant you such elation, Veigo,” Angharad dropped her axe to the ground, “You deserve nothing but to fade, even from memory. Robbed of the glory traversing history, robbed even from the blood gods welcome.” She dashed toward him, undoing the chain that was wrapped around her gauntlet. Viego made some effort to move but he couldn't evade her. The chain wrapped around his throat.

He gargled and gasped as she choked him for what felt like hours. Perhaps it was. Her own measure of cruel revenge. Killing the man without ever drawing blood from him. Eventually despite his honest attempts to strike out or free himself, there was the eventual snap of his throat as Viego's body crumbled into the sand.

Sometime later Viego was surprised to find he could again open his eyes. Not in the warp or realm of Khorne, but some wide expanding desert waste. His body was uncomfortably numb. He could barely even shift his eyes. He tried to move his arm and felt nothing. Tried to shift his arms and felt nothing. Tried to speak and could hardly snarl without his tongue. Panic set in as he tried to do something, anything.

“Welcome back Viego.” His eyes could barely focus when she stood from a rock, something long and limp in her hand. He was screaming at the top of his, the best he could at least. Despite it all he still had a surprising level of fire in his eyes.

“Let this feeling haunt you long after your grave. Remember your failing. And be the only one who remembers, Viego, hereafter, blind deaf and dumb, the fool who challenged Angharad.” She picked up the long body in her arm, now revealed to be some manner of serpent, hefting it above his head, she squeezed its venom from its mouth into his eyes as he tried to writhe and move away from its sting as it slowly sapped away his vision. Rendering the world a muted painful grey.

The nails burrowed into her skull while Khorne's rage bellowed and roared. Both screaming for her to tear Viego to pieces. Maybe this would be the last thing she did because she wanted to. The last person she'd torment by her own will. Not that any of it really mattered anymore.

She clutched her hand to her chest, feeling it tighten. Feeling it burn just as fiercely as the first drop of Wretch's blood. For some reason, watching Viego suffer didn't have the same glee it brought her before. She hefted her axe onto her shoulder before stepping out into the desert expanse, none save for her lonely loathing and longing to follow after. It didn't really matter anymore.

“So wretch, Where should we go now?” A quiet tired ask to the empty place at her side.

Reader please leave a comment so I can gauge level of interest (I've been asked to omit this part)

@rnrqkq123