LadyThunderBlood

Perturabo Perturabo’s child wants to build a pillow fort, he hears ‘siege architecture practical exam’ and begins by asking them about load bearing points. “I want the blue blanket.” They reply and he nods solemnly. The pillow fort starts small then Perturabo brings in measuring tools and a diagram, after an hour the living room contains a reinforced multilevel pillow citadel with crawl tunnels, curtain walls, snack storage and a moat made of plush animals.

“This is my castle.” The child says as they crawl inside with a juice box. “Yes.” Perturabo, standing outside with a clipboard. “You can come in too.” He crawls in very carefully, knees sticking out, shoulders destroying one side wall. “You’re too big.” The child pats his face. Perturabo stares at the collapsed section devastated until the child hands him a stuffed bunny. “You can guard.” Perturabo spends the next four hours guarding the pillow fortress with murderous seriousness.

Jaghatai Khan Jaghatai’s child wants to play ponies and he agrees immediately. Within five minutes, the ponies have names like Wind Breaker and Thunder Hoof and are racing across the furniture. He makes tiny saddles out of napkins and begins narrating a great migration across the living room carpet. The kid is delighted. “Again! Again!”

The next thing anyone knows they are both riding actual horses through the palace garden. Malcador sees them pass by a window, the kid is shrieking with joy and Jaghatai is laughing, there is a toy pony tied to his saddle like a sacred war banner. “THIS ONE IS FASTEST” the child screams. “THEN SHE SHALL LEAD THE HOST” Jaghatai answers. Later the Emperor receives three complaints, two property damage reports and one drawing of a horse with lightning legs titled Daddy’s Friend.

Russ Russ' child wants to play wolves, they crawl around the floor growling at each other. “I’m the biggest wolf” the kid says. Leman immediately drops onto his back. “Aye, you are the alpha.” They climb onto his chest and howl, Russ howls back so loudly that three nearby windows crack, the kid laughs until they hiccup.

Then they decide he isn’t a wolf anymore but a mountain so they climbs him. Russ lies still on the floor while this tiny child scales him by grabbing his beard, armor straps, hair, nose and dignity. Every time they reach his shoulder he gently rolls over and says “Avalanche!”. The kid squeals and falls into a pile of furs. This repeats forty six times and at the end they fall asleep on top of him. “No one move.” Russ whispers, he remains on the floor for six hours. Several Space Wolves enter, see him pinned by a sleeping toddler and treat it as a sacred vigil.

Dorn The child wants to play blocks and Dorn sits down. He is prepared, he has blocks, patience and a plan. They stack three blocks, knock them down and giggle. Dorn nods. “Demolition testing.” They stack them again, sideways this time. “Interesting.” Dorn’s eye twitches. They put a triangle block at the bottom and a square on top. Dorn visibly suffers but he says nothing because they are happy. “You build, daddy.” They hand him a block. Dorn builds a perfect miniature fortress in six minutes. It has towers, gates, symmetrical walls and no unnecessary ornamentation. The child looks at it and places a tiny duck on the battlements. Dorn stares at the duck. “The duck isn’t defensible.” “He lives there.” He nods after a long pause. “The duck is now the governor.” From that day forward every fortress he builds for them includes a duck tower.

Perturabo questions it once and Dorn replies dead serious. “The duck is load-bearing.”

Konrad Curze Konrad’s child wants to play tea party. He is sitting cross legged on the floor in a room full of dolls, tiny cups and one very suspicious teddy bear. The child pours imaginary tea and he accepts the tiny cup with both clawed hands. “Thank you” he whispers. The doll beside him has been sentenced to death for treason. “No, daddy, Mr. Buttons said sorry” the child says. Konrad slowly turns toward the doll.“Did he.” The child nods and Konrad leans very close to the doll. “I am watching you.”

The tea party continues and the child offers him a fake wooden biscuit. He pretends to eat it and the child beams, this does something terrible and unfamiliar inside his chest. “You’re the princess.” the child says. “...No.” “You’re the princess.” Konrad looks at the tiny plastic crown then at their hopeful face. Ten minutes later Sanguinius walks past the room and sees him wearing a glitter crown, sitting among plush animals, speaking in a rasping whisper. “The princess has seen the future, the kingdom falls by dawn.” “No, daddy, the kingdom has cookies.” the child says. Konrad pauses. “The kingdom may yet be spared.”

Sanguinius Sanguinius’s child wants to play flying, he picks them up gently and lifts them into the air, wings spreading like sunrise. “Higher!” They scream with joy. “Not too high, little heart.” “Higher!” He gives in immediately and glides through the garden, slow and safe, their tiny hands buried in his hair.

The kid demands they rescue the stuffed rabbit from the “tower” (a table), Sanguinius approaches it with full mythic seriousness. “Fear not, noble rabbit, salvation comes.” He carries both the child and rabbit in a heroic arc through the room, everyone nearby stops to watch because it is objectively beautiful.

Horus watches from the doorway. “That child could ask him for Terra and he would give it.” “She asked nicely.” Sanguinius replies.

Ferrus The child wants to play dolls. Ferrus looks at the dolls and sees that they are poorly jointed and weak. “These arms will break.” “Her name is Princess Sparkle.” the child says. Ferrus takes Princess Sparkle with grave respect and within an hour it has reinforced limbs, articulated fingers, a tiny metal spine and a faceplate that can withstand a hammer strike. The child loves it, Ferrus tries to look indifferent but fails. 

They ask him to make a bed for the doll and Ferrus makes a bed, a chair, a tiny forge and a full working miniature workshop. The doll now has better equipment than some Legions. “Daddy, she needs a friend.” Ferrus looks at the remaining dolls and they are weak too. “Bring them all.” By evening the playroom contains an army of upgraded dolls with chrome limbs and terrifying durability. The child hugs his arm and Ferrus quietly makes Princess Sparkle a crown… It’s made of iron.

Angron Angron’s child wants to play tag. “You run and I will chase slowly.” He kneels down and says with enormous seriousness. They run and Angron follows at the speed of a depressed refrigerator. “Raaah” he says carefully and the child shrieks with laughter. He reaches for them, misses on purpose and ends up smashing his hand through a table. “Daddy, you broke it.” Angron looks at the table then down at his own hand. “I did.” They toddle back and pats his arm. “It’s okay, we can play gently.” He sits on the floor and the child shows him patty-cake.

Angron, who has killed armies, now sits cross legged learning how to clap hands softly. He gets it wrong the first time and claps too hard, blowing a cushion across the room. The child laughs anyway, by the end he is whispering the rhyme with deadly concentration.

Guilliman The child wants to play office because they have seen Guilliman doing paperwork and have mistaken it for entertainment. Guilliman is devastated but supportive. “What is your decree, my regent?” They scribble on paper. “More cookies.” “A popular measure but logistically complex.” The child stamps the paper with a wooden block. “Approved.” He reads it (it’s mostly spirals) and treats it as legally binding. Soon the entire household has been reorganized according to toddler law.

Guilliman starts drafting an implementation framework and the child puts a sticker on his forehead. “You work for me.” He smiles softly. “I always have.” Later, someone asks why there is a formal memo titled Household Edict Regarding Mandatory teddy bear Attendance. “It passed through the proper channels.” Guilliman replies.

Mortarion Mortarion’s child wants to play garden and he takes it extremely seriously. They go outside to a patch of stubborn soil and strange herbs, he shows them which plants are poisonous, which are medicinal and which ones bite back if you insult them. He lets them wear tiny gloves and dig holes, the child names every worm and Mortarion remembers every worm name. “This is Sir Wiggle.” “Sir Wiggle is strong.” Mortarion says gravely.

They make him wear a flower crown and he stares into the distance like a man enduring public execution but doesn’t remove it. A Death Guard marine sees him and immediately looks away with survival instincts. “You’re pretty” the child says. “Unlikely” he mutters. They add more flowers. He sits there, enormous and grim, covered in daisies, holding a watering can the size of a teacup. “The garden smells nice.” the child says. Mortarion, who has never once been associated with a pleasant smell in his life, quietly decides this is the finest garden in the galaxy.

Magnus the Red Magnus’s child wants a bedtime story and he is delighted. “Once, before the first turning of the empyrean spheres-” He begins. “Princess.” They interrupt. Magnus adjusts. “Once, before the first turning of the empyrean spheres, there was a princess-” “Dragon.” “-and a dragon, who represented the eternal hunger of hidden knowledge-” “No, daddy, silly dragon.”

Magnus pauses, this is advanced literary critique. He changes course, the dragon now wears a hat, the child approves. He conjures glowing images in the air of castles, stars, moons and tiny dancing frogs. The child keeps demanding more frogs, the story becomes less about destiny and more about frog politics. Magnus is deeply invested.

“And thus the princess declared that all frogs should have equal access to cake.” The child nods already sleepy. “Good.” Magnus lowers his voice. “The kingdom rejoiced.” He keeps whispering the story for another hour because he wants to know what happens next.

Horus Horus’s kid wants to play king, dangerously charismatic dad mode activated. The child puts a blanket around his shoulders. “You’re the king.” He bows his head. “And you?” “I’m the boss.” Horus laughs so hard he nearly falls over. “Of course you are.”

The child immediately begins issuing commands and Horus obeys all of them, the warmaster of the great crusade crawls across the floor pretending to be a horse. The Mournival walks in and Horus is wearing a blanket cape, carrying a stuffed animal court and negotiating peace between two dolls. Abaddon opens his mouth and Horus points at him. “Careful, the boss is in a decisive mood.” The child points the spoon at Abaddon. “Dance.” He dances. Horus has never been prouder.

Lorgar Lorgar’s child wants to play school so they line up the stuffed animals in rows and give Lorgar a tiny chair. The chair is made for a child so he sits on the floor instead, knees folded, enormous and reverent. The child points at him with a crayon. “You are the student.” Lorgar clasps his hands. “I am ready to receive wisdom.” They draw a circle on paper. “This is the sun.” “A symbol of illumination, revelation, and divine constancy.” Lorgar nods solemnly.

He is given homework, he needs to draw a cat. Lorgar draws an anatomically perfect feline surrounded by radiant script, golden halos and seventeen lines of devotional commentary. “No, daddy, the cat is supposed to be silly.” Lorgar takes this correction with the seriousness of a condemned prophet and draws a second cat. It has crossed eyes, four whiskers on one side and legs like noodles. “Good job!” The child beams. Lorgar’s soul nearly leaves his body. No sermon, no conquest, no cathedral, no burning truth whispered by gods has ever struck him so deeply as his kid saying good job. He carefully tapes the silly cat drawing to the wall.

“My lord, is this significant?” Erebus sees it later and asks. Lorgar turns slowly. “It’s my finest work.”

Vulkan The child wants to play kitchen and Vulkan immediately puts on a tiny apron. It doesn’t fit and looks like a napkin tied to a mountain. “We make soup.” The child gave him a wooden spoon and a plastic bowl. “What kind?” “Rock soup.” A single pebble is placed in the bowl and he looks at it with deep respect. “A hearty meal.”

They add leaves, buttons and one toy lizard. Vulkan stirs carefully with his huge hands, moving like he is handling sacred glass. Vulkan pretends to taste and the child's eyes widen. “By the fires of Nocturne, it’s incredible.”

The child declares it perfect, climbs into his lap and feeds him imaginary soup for twenty minutes. Vulkan eats every spoonful and says thank you each time.

Corvus Corax The child wants to play shadow puppets, finally a game made for him. They sit in a dim room with a candle, Corvus makes a bird with his hands and they gasp. He makes a wolf, they clap. He makes a bat, a dragon, a tiny dancing man and something that may be a symbol of imperial oppression but the child thinks it is a bunny so it’s a bunny now. Then they try, their puppet is just a blob. Corvus leans close. “A perfect raven.” The child beams and he is destroyed.

Later they play sneak up. Corvus hears it every time, the child is breathing loudly, giggling and stepping on every creaky board but each time they jump out yelling boo Corvus throws himself backward dramatically like he has been mortally wounded. “You have slain me.” They cackle and poke him. “Again.” Corvus resurrects. This continues until they fall asleep on his cloak.

Alpharius Omegon The child wants to play guessing games. One of them stands in front of her. “Which one am I?” They squints. “Daddy.” “Yes, but which Daddy?” They point. “That one.” “Correct.” The other twin, from behind the sofa: “How?” The kid shrugs. “You smell like sneaky.” Both twins are delighted and offended.

They decide to play with dolls. Every doll has a secret identity, the tea party has three false locations, the teddy bear is a double agent and the stuffed duck has been replaced by an identical stuffed duck. The kid follows none of this and simply feeds everyone pretend cake.