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To call the meeting interesting would be an understatement. First, they offend Dante with a mask imitating his gene father’s face, yet nothing could’ve prepared him for what followed next.
“The great Szarekh says, he is an avid collector of many curious things.” The Triarch member said as the silent king traced the shape of the mask with a cold, metallic finger. Dante observed the Necron with calculating eyes, he couldn’t allow himself even the smallest sign of weakness.
“Is that so?”
The silent king nodded and motioned with his hand for the Triarch member to continue. “Why yes indeed. As mentioned already, he holds great admiration for the red angel of Baal. As a son of Sanguinius, he wishes to show you another collectible of his. Something very rare and high priced. As a sign of comradery in this freshly found alliance.”
Dante couldn’t deny his curiosity. What did this walking wire box have that could interest him? Before he was able to voice his question though, the Triarch waved for others to fetch whatever it is he was about to be shown. Time felt eternal as he waited for the other necrons to return, even though barely a moment passed. The doors opened and Dante expected many things, yet nothing could’ve prepared him for what he was presented with.
A human.
The Necrons led a human woman to the silent king and handed the golden leashes connected to her collar to the Triarch member, who handed them to Szarekh. If the mask of Sanguinius was offensive then this was a punch to the face. Dante clenched his hands to fists, his teeth grinding down with so much force, he was afraid they’d break.
“What. Is the meaning of this?”
Meanwhile, the woman just looked at him with innocent eyes as she sat down at Szarekh’s feet as if it was the most normal thing in the world. The Necron king held her twin leashes in one hand, if he could, he’d smile at the her.
“This is the silent kings pet. His most priced possession. Not many receive the honour of meeting them. The great king Szarekh asks, what you think of her? Isn’t she a marvel?”
“Why, in the emperor’s name, does he have a human as a pet?!” Dante nearly barked the question, barely able to restrain his anger. He could feel the evil tongues of the black rage licking at his sanity.
Safe her. Avenge her. Free her.
It took all of his willpower to not lose control and attack blindly. That wouldn’t help anyone, especially not the poor woman. She however just sat there like an obedient dog, looking at Dante with a slight tilt of her head. The woman was dressed in revealing robes of gold and green, golden jewellery hung off her like ornaments off an altar. There was no denying it, she was a beauty, yet seeing the situation she was in made him sick to the stomach. Worse, the expression on her face. So full of curiosity and innocence. Did this woman not understand what situation she was in?! Had those Xenos scum manipulated her so much? Twisted her mind to their liking?
The one speaking for the king seemed perplexed. “Why wouldn’t the great king Szarekh keep such an exquisite pet? This human female is of extraordinary nature. He believes the word you use for her kin is “perpetual”. Is it not?”
Szarekh lightly tugged her leashes and she got up, climbing into his lap. She sat down on his metallic thigh, leaning against his chest. Her eyes never left Dante.
“Perpetual?” The chapter master of the blood angels couldn’t hide his shock. Perpetuals were rare. They were the kind of people who shaped history. Yet, this one looked more like a tamed bird, happily sitting in its cage. Who was this woman? It didn’t matter. Whoever she was, he needed to find a way to get her out.
The woman seemed to not care much. She was munching on dates she got from a small plate held by a Necron servant. Truly, the situation was growing absurder by the moment.
If Dante wanted to help her, he’d have to wait for the right moment or all he’d get would be a lasgun to the face. However, to his great shock, the king himself spoke up.
“Do not even think of such things, son of the angel. My pet is none of your concern. Should I catch you even thinking of taking my property, the consequences would be dire. Both for you and your men. Don’t test my hospitality.”
The human woman’s eyes widened and she swallowed her bite, eyes filled with horror. Her arms wrapped around the Necron lords metal body as she hugged herself closer. “What? Don’t let him take me master! You promised that no one would hurt me again!” Her innocent face twisted into a visage of unadulterated fear, as if Dante was revealed to be the boogeyman.
Szarekh put his hand on her hip. The coolness of his touch was a welcoming, familiar sensation. “I am a man of my word, dear pet. So remember what I said, Chaplain. And return to your men. My hospitality has run dry for now.”
Dante couldn’t believe his eyes. Or ears. Surely, this was a joke? A cruel prank? He awaited another Necron to start laughing and reveal the situation as a jest. Hurt her? She was scared that he would hurt her?Her concern should be with the Xeno who held her, not him! Was this woman’s mind so far gone? Perhaps in that case, the emperor’s mercy would be best for her. But not now. He knew when it was time to leave. Getting up from his chair, he nodded one more time before exiting the throne chamber. And yet, the woman wouldn’t leave his mind.
A human turned Necron pet.
Emperor beware. He had to do something, but what? For now, he had to focus on the tyranid threat and the fragile alliance that fought it. But once that was done?
Szarekh and his “pet” would have his full attention.
The soft tingling of a pen on a blank paper filled the little room where you were "standing" on; the quill conjuring symbols of a race long extinguished as it once was, the words being only echoes of that life being spilled unto a sheet more so to not forget than to record or imprint something unique in the universe.
You had spent eons like that, staring unblinking and immobile on that same position, in that same beautiful room adorned with relics and antiques that would make the Infinite blush and seethe with jealousy of such things not being displayed on their collection. The change of flesh to the new body you now possessed had being a success in theory, the drawback being how much time you had spent in solemn slumber waiting for your moment of awakening; you've entered the hall where it all had gone to pass with your husband, the grip of your hands were so tight it seemed no force would had been able to separate you both, but in the end you went first; the promises and love professions between you two had made some of the court preceeding the rite to weep and lament all.
Ahhkon had seen their beloved enter full of life and aspirations of the future to the operation...and had left with a husk frozen in time with the vague and loose promise of one day opening your eyes again. By the creators and God's of every other child race that had come afterwards, did he prayed for the moment where you would wake up, where you would hold the same loving hands to the sweet embrace in which his soul (or whatever was inside of his chest, names mattered little) would delight and rest for eternity.
On that sarcophagus you had seen through the decades and millennia all of what Ahhkon had done and pronounced in your name. The kin would give him a new name to wear wherever he went, he was no longer the "Poet" or "Scribe" of the Necrontyr, no, those titles did no justice to the "Mourning King"; he which had commanded the Eztet dynasty since his awakening and had take over most of his antique realm driving away every Xenos who had taken for themselves what was rightfully his.
That is what he had been writing at that moment with the quill; the last records of a civilization so new they had not invented Warp travel, yet they had taken over the gardens where you and him used to roam. The soil had been tainted, your memory had been put to shame as the state of the flowers you used to pick was substantially reduced to a most primitive way of agriculture; his cold mechanical heart had soared in anger at that sight and had delivered swift justice to your memory....and your name.
"Would you join me my Eternal, once again, to see the sun setting upon the valley?" His voice, deep and melodic on equal parts, beckoned from the table where he had been doing the annotations
He stood up, as tall and fragile as he seemed on the new body the transfiguration had given him, footsteps silent as they headed your way and embraced the device that held your tomb in place with the utmost reverence and delicacy he could muster. The apparatus beamed to life receiving the data and orders from their sovereign following closely as the both of you passed through the libraries and decorations on the way to the little field in which the ambience seemed most beautiful.
The Mournful stood close to you, bringing his hands to his back like a groom awkwardly shuffling in place as the matrimonial votes were heard. He remained in silence as the world basked in the greens and hue colors that on another lifetime had filled millions of pages from his poems, all dedicated in some way or another to you, all mentioning and comparing the vast amusing universe to your factions and each detail of your personality.
The silence of now was haunting. Your eyes were fixated in an eternal watch forward, your hands were frozen in place and your body was still inside of the coffin in which you laid. But oh how much did Ahhkon tried to make you see and feel him on that moment; how his body would stand at the verge of your vision lane so not only it would record the horizon but his posture as well, the way he had opened the sarcophagus just slightly so his hand could pass through and hold your chilling fingertips, how he would bring his body forward to kiss without lips and without proper flesh the metallic skin in which you both were wrapped in.
Ahhkon sighed, tired of the work he had done that day, exhausted of thinking about you at every second of his entire existence and too wounded inside about the state you were in.
"I wish you were here" He declared, faintly "You'll see me one day, my moon dust, even if it is the last thing my eyes will gaze upon in this galaxy. I will see you again"
Someone please write a necron x human reader fic, headcanon, anything. There's absolutely NOTHING out there, especially when it comes to the smut side.
Useless fact: among Trazyn’s favorite stolen things exhibits there are surprisingly a lot of things that have something to do with humans.
And the answer to "what the fuck?" is simple. even though humanity population can seem huge, tens of billions, in a universe it's still almost nothing. Homo sapiens is a rare breed across on the endless, dead widths of space.
Trazyn being a Necron, and therefore a proud creature with an insufferable, sassy temperament didn't consider humans anything even remotely, microscopically equal to his kind. And yet… he admired them.
A small, biologically fragile species technically primitive by Necron standards somehow managed, millennium after millennium, to grow and stronger and stronger, even occasionally pushing Necrons back on the battlefield.
Of course, Trazyn preferred to cope explain it to himself in a way that didn't hurt his huge ego:
humans win their rare, pathetic little victories only because Necrons have bigger problems of their own.
Constant internal squabbling, dynastic wars, and especially the pressure from the greenskins and those disguising bugs. Oh, and the increasingly frequent cases of mental damage, annnd the Flayer virus. None of that helped, either lmao.
Still, at the very thought of orks and tyranids the Necron's face would wrinke - despite having lost his facial muscles millennia ago. And even before biotransference the Necrontyr didn’t really grimace as their nonverbal communication worked differently, nothing like ours, human and expressive and obvious - but who fuckings cares?
And the old Overlord had one particularly unhinged dream: to catch a human female in his claws.
Which raises yet another question why would that neon-green rotten spam can want an ordinary human, when his collection already includes such specimens as a Custodes and even an entire living clone of Fulgrim? A clone Trazyn hadn’t ad enough balls to lock into stasis and shove into a vial - so now he had to visit his beautiful, temperamental pet several times a Terran week and keep him entertained with all kinds of pretty shiny things.
Because Primarchs and Custodians can endure far worse. Killing them on the battlefield is harder than capturing them alive.
But humans? Humans drop like flies. Getting your hands on one is practically impossible.
Common soldiers are rare enough as it is - and finding even one woman among them...
Oh, how Trazyn wanted it.
Even a Necron couldn’t protect himself from gender stereotypes after devouring hundreds of human books: women, to him, were something delicate and beautiful - shy, timid, easily startled.
Like unicorns in old Terran stories: elusive, magnificent creatures, tamable only by the chosen one. In the myths it was usually a virgin but Trazyn, sensibly, decided to skip that detail in his head.
Or something like that, didn't realle think through tbh
I have literally no idea how can i develop this idea. But i still have a question for you guys.
Normal human!fem!reader - safe universal thing yeah
OR HE GETS HIMSELF A FELINID!FEM!READER!!
Old ass egypt coded boi would be obsessed with you. Yeah, I'm still not over my catgirl mania- *shotgun going off.mp3*
But yk i see her not as your local anime cute uwu catgirl but more like semi wild creature with animalistic habits - moody, unpredictable, sassy.
up to you.
normal human!reader
felinid!reader (i like this one but still unsure..)
Anya is live and ready to show you everything. Watch her strip, dance, and perform exclusive shows just for you. Interact in real-time and make your fantasies come true.
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• Trazyn started coming to you at certain intervals. How often - you did not know. There were no windows, no clocks, nothing that could help you understand time. You didn’t even know if this planet had such concepts as sunsets, sunrises, or even a sun at all, like in your home world.
•his name is Trazyn. Of course, from the Necron’s own "lips," it sounded entirely different - strange, difficult to pronounce, as alien as everything else here.
• it was unexpectedly hw knew High Gothic, though it spoke with a terrible accent.
• It's entire body resembled a tall skeleton, burdened with an overwhelming array of ornaments - a surreal and terrifying image, or so you thought at first.
• One day sat down beside you. At first, he simply sat there, allowing you to grow accustomed to his presence, showing that he posed no threat. Then, he began to speak.
• He told you who he was, what he did, and why he had brought you here.
• "You see..." - Trazyn’s speech was surprisingly human, though his pronunciation sometimes made his words difficult to understand.
• "I collect everything I that seems interesting and worthy of passing through the long millennia, anything deserving of preservation," he said on one occasion. You turned your head, listening intently.
• Something inside you warmed. This strange, no longer even frightening being considered you... beautiful? Worthy of living for centuries because of your uniqueness?
• In truth, Trazyn had another reason for acquiring a human. Fulgrim - his treasure, the most beloved part of his collection - had begun to wither lately, like a beautiful rose whose roots had been cut. Trazyn quickly realized why the vain clone no longer found joy in clothing, jewels, or the finest delicacies prepared just for him.
• Primarchs, above all else, were human, and humans needed other humans. Though Necrons bore some resemblance to them, simply interacting with Trazyn was clearly not enough.
• That was why the Infinite had found his dear pet a companion - one he himself found pleasing as well.
"I’ll introduce you to him in a few days. Be sweet and obedient, alright?" Trazyn was already stroking your head with his cold, meta hand.
You sighed heavily, no longer even surprised by yet another revelation. It felt as though you had fully resigned yourself to your fate - let them do as they pleased, as long as you were well-fed, well-dressed, and safe under the protection of this strange being.
