1 My Religious Zealot Sister Can't Be This Cute!

[Tags: 40k, one-shot, romance, wholesome, straight, smut, hints of breeding, mind control (kinda but not really), nun/Sister of Battle, light on the grimdark]

Another day, another slaughter in the Emperor's glorious service. Malcolm sighed. Oh, joy.

It wasn't that he wasn't faithful. If anyone asked, Malcolm was the most loyal of His Sanctioned Psykers. He'd proven his loyalty over nearly half a decade of service to one of His Inquisitors. And if Fate was kind, he would continue to do so for many years.

But the death and destruction he wrought in the Emperor's name did wear on his nerves and patience. He would much rather be relaxing on some backwater Agri-World away from it all. It was never-ending. There was always another battlefield, another Xenos, another heretic that called for his special brand of damage.

Such was the case currently. Inquisitor X (Malcolm had never learned his name and he wasn't keen on risking his life to ask) had cornered a heretical cult in the bowels of a nondescript Hive City.

Honestly, Malcolm didn't even know what planet they were on. And he didn't care. He was just here to do his duty and leave so he could get back under the protective psychic umbrella of the holy shields of the ship's cathedral.

At one point, the nerves of battle might have gotten to him. This forced calm of preparation. The anticipation of the moments before his world descended into chaos. But he liked to think himself too tried and tested to let his mind wander — too cynical to focus on anything but staying alive through his duty.

His gear was already prepped and ready. He wasn't stupid enough to leave his cabin at all without that much. Not with how much Inquisitor X called upon his particular set of skills.

His psychic-channeling staff was properly oiled and blessed. His laspistol had been taken apart, cleaned, and assembled again. His armor — what little he was afforded — was polished until it shined.

Malcolm was a rather straightforward man. He wasn't afraid to speak his mind and he didn't like being forced to wait while the platoon of Guardsmen the Inquisitor had requisitioned for this mission got themselves ready. They were certainly taking long enough. The rest of the Inquisitor's retinue had been ready to go for nearly an hour now.

"Can't you do that anywhere else?" He drawled, sounding almost bored.

Beside him, the solo chanting stopped. Sister Celestia looked up at him, blinking owlishly. As always, she looked so innocent, so pure. Completely unlike what a dangerous and experienced Sister Hospitaller should have looked like.

She resembled nothing more than an adorably wholesome, white-haired nun. Other than the power armor… And the Chainsword strapped to her arm… And the numerous other instruments that could be used just as easily to take a life as they could save one…

"I'm… sorry?" Celestia apologized.

Because of course, she would. Malcolm resisted the guilt that bubbled up inside him. Sister Celestia was too cute for her own good. Or for his. Or for anyone's, really. Malcolm was half-convinced that even the Emperor didn't deserve a girl as pure as her.

It caused… problems. Not major ones. But Malcolm found he couldn't let loose his biting wit or caustic tongue because he would feel too guilty even just teasing her. Why couldn't he have been stuck with a Sister Repentia? They were about as far from adorable as women could get.

If it was just her looks, Malcolm may have been fine. She was beautiful without a doubt. Shortish, functional white hair. An adorable heart-shaped face. Vibrant blue eyes with a Fleur De Lis tattooed beneath one. A fit, tight body that filled out in all the right places.

But it wasn't just her physical cuteness. Celestia's soul was stunning. Quite literally, in Malcolm's case. He could see it through the Warp, after all. And it never failed to leave him breathless.

Celestia was a pure soul in this damned galaxy of sinners. She was soft. She was sweet. She was kind. Her personality was what made her so dangerously cute. If Malcolm wasn't careful, she would take over his life even more than she already had.

He cleared his throat, pushing down the guilt he felt at interrupting her prayers, "Some of us can quite literally see the faith pouring off you, Celestia. And it's blinding."

She beamed a smile at him, as bright as her prayers in the Warp, "Thank you, Malcolm. You say the sweetest things. Bless your poor cursed soul."

Malcolm winced, "I'm not cursed."

Celestia nodded innocently, "Of course. Just differently blessed. My apologies. I hope you can forgive my harsh tongue, Malcolm. It's not your fault you've been gifted with Chaotic powers."

"The Emperor was a psyker too," Malcolm pointed out.

"And only by his blessing are you safe from the foul reaches of the Ruinous Powers," Celestia shot right back as if he'd just confirmed her point of view.

It was an old argument between them. Faithful didn't even begin to describe Celestia. Everything she did, she did with zeal and passion for the Emperor. Naturally, that meant she didn't quite agree with Malcolm's psychic gifts.

But even when she was saying things like this, Malcolm couldn't get mad at her. She was just so earnest. Adorably genuine. Like she objected to his power on his behalf.

She never judged him, just the psychic gifts that made him so useful to their shared Inquisitor. And even then, it felt like she came completely from a place of care and love for him as a fellow Human being.

If anyone else said the things Celestia said, Malcolm would smite them. Introduce them to a bolt of Warp Lightning out of sheer principle. With Celestia, he had to suppress a blush at her unconditionally pure love and care for her fellow man.

He had it bad. And he would never admit it if he could help it.

They would never work together, anyway. A Psyker and one of the Emperor's most faithful? That relationship was a recipe for romantic disaster. That's what Malcolm told himself over and over again. Still, he could never quite shake his persistent crush.

"Your optimism is… It's distracting," 

"Is it?" Celestia cocked her head, so pure that Malcolm's heart ached for her.

Malcolm coughed to hide his true appreciation for Celestia, "Ahem… Yes."

"Is that a bad thing?"

"Perhaps. I find it difficult to focus when you're around."

Celestia nodded in understanding, "I shall endeavor to keep from distracting you further, Malcolm."

Malcolm found himself shifting uncomfortably, "I mean… some distraction is fine. And if I am to be distracted, I would prefer it to be by you."

Celestia blushed slightly, the color pulling at Malcolm's heartstrings, "O-Oh my… How forward. But I believe I understand. My safety lingers on your mind, does it not? Is that why my optimism distracts you? Because you believe it will lead to me being caught off-guard or unprepared?"

"That's certainly one reason I'm distracted by you…" Malcolm half agreed.

"You're a good man, Malcolm," Celestia said.

"Am I?" Malcolm had lost that kind of faith in himself long ago.

"Yes," Celestia answered confidently. "Despite your unnatural gifts, you're a good man. I appreciate you looking out for my safety."

"My 'unnatural gifts' have saved you more times than not," Malcolm was more amused than offended by the old 'insult'.

Celestia paved right over his comment, "You need not worry though. My optimism is due to my unshakeable faith, not some foolish inexperience with the realities of our duty. I would gladly die if it meant the Emperor's Will was done. The Emperor protects."

"And I would rather you live to see the Emperor's Will done again in the future," Malcolm retorted, knowing how to phrase his concern to get through to Celestia.

Celestia turned off to the side to hide her smile, "If you insist."

Malcolm sighed, feeling as if he hadn't gotten through to her, "Never mind. Just do me a favor, yeah? Pray for both of us."

He barely caught her whispered reply, "I always do…"

Though his heart skipped, Malcolm didn't acknowledge the reply. As irrational as it was, he was worried she'd take it back if he did. He instead made himself busy with checking his equipment again. It was just as ready as when he checked it 10 minutes ago.

Celestia did the same. They spent the last few minutes before deployment in silence. Soon enough, the platoon was ready and the Inquisitor's retinue began to move out. They left the Hive spire they'd been using as a gathering point. It would be a long journey to the Underhive where the cult was hiding.

An expansive floor-sized elevator took them to the base of the spire. They would have to make the rest of the journey into the Underhive by foot. The Inquisitor led from the rear, letting the Imperial Guard Captain take vanguard with his platoon. Malcolm, Celestia, and the rest of the Inquisitor's direct retinue followed alongside Inquisitor X.

The group cut an easy path through the crowded Hive City streets. No mere citizen wished to stand in their way. They huddled off to the side in doors, windows, and alleyways to watch the Emperor's servants as they passed.

The watching citizenry was ignored by the Inquisitor. Malcolm was busy centering himself and keeping up with the group as he did. Celestia's pure eyes roamed the crowd, filled with sympathy and care at the conditions she saw. Her gaze landed on a boy, clad in dirty clothes and coughing as he watched them pass with awe in his eyes.

"Inquisitor? May I…" Celestia asked, trailing off.

Accustomed to the eccentricities of those under his command, Inquisitor X already knew what she was requesting without having to look, "Yes. But just one. Do not dally."

"Just one," Celestia agreed, happy to get any permission at all.

"Malcolm, with her. Make sure she does not get distracted like last time. And catch up to us quickly," The Inquisitor ordered.

"Of course, Sir," Malcolm acknowledged.

Celestia had already peeled off from their party. Malcolm followed. The crowd of citizens shied away from the pair's approach. The boy Celestia was focused on didn't, either too sick to move or too sick to care. Still, his eyes widened even further — Malcolm was sure they were about to pop from his head — as he realized Celestia was coming toward him.

"Hello, little one," She soothed. "Are you feeling alright? Would you like some help?"

"Are you an Angel?" The boy asked breathlessly.

Celestia started to shake her head, "No, just someone who wishes to help-…"

Malcolm spoke over her, "Yep, good eyes, kid."

Celestia glanced at him with exasperation, "-Just someone who wishes to help and heal."

Her attention returned to the boy, "Now, let's see if we can't relieve your pain."

Smirking to himself, Malcolm kept a watchful eye over Celestia as she went about doing what she did best. He glared at everyone who looked like they might be getting ideas to pester Celestia after she was done with the boy. She only had time and permission to heal one. As much as she may have wished to stay and help everyone she could, they had other duties to attend to.

Celestia looked the boy over with a thorough physical exam that left Malcolm feeling almost envious. She asked a few questions of him as she did. When she was satisfied, she nodded to herself.

"As I suspected. Here, little one, I'm going to have to give you a shot."

"Shot?" The boy asked.

"A small prick with a needle. It will have you feeling better in no time at all," Celestia explained.

The boy shied away, "… I don't like needles."

"There, there," Celestia cooed. "You can hold my hand. You won't even notice. I promise."

He looked into her eyes, searching for something. Naturally, with Celestia, all he found was kindness, compassion, and sincerity. He gave her a shaky nod. The smile she gave him in return lit up the surroundings.

Celestia cleaned the boy's arm with a specialized wipe. She withdrew a syringe and vial from a pouch on her belt. The syringe was filled by experienced hands and she replaced the vial. Covering the needle itself from the boy's eyes, Celestia aimed it at the now clean spot on his arm.

She took his hand, holding his gaze with hers, "Ready?"

"Y-Yes, Miss Angel," The boy stuttered nervously.

"Just a small pinch. That's all. You'll barely notice. 1… 2…" Celestia reassured.

She moved before her count reached three. Quickly and smoothly, the syringe pierced the boy's arm and Celestia depressed the plunger. The boy squeaked at the slight deception but she was done before he could react.

"There you are. Good job," Celestia's smile soothed any hard feeling the boy might have held. "You were very brave. The Emperor is proud of you."

Celestia withdrew something else from her pouch and held it up for him to see. She effortlessly pulled the boy's attention away from the slight pain in his arm.

"Whoa! What's that?" The boy could barely contain his excitement.

"A healing relic from Holy Terra," Celestia explained. "The Hello Kitten of Sanrio is the patron saint of sick boys and girls. The template for her greatest tool was rediscovered and I always make sure to carry a healthy supply of them."

"It's so pink! I didn't even know colors could get that bright!" He exclaimed.

Celestia indulged him with a smile, "Yes, it's rather impressive, isn't it? I'll admit I keep one on my armor where no one can see. I believe the Emperor and Saint Hello Kitten lend me their strength through it."

"I'll be just like you?!" The boy vibrated with excitement as Celestia showed him her secret sticker/band-aid.

"You were more than brave enough to deserve it," Celestia praised, sealing the tiny needle mark on his arm with the band-aid. "There. Just like me."

"Wow…" The boy said with breathless awe.

Before he knew what he was doing, the boy hugged Celestia. He froze as he realized but neither of the helpful adults reacted negatively. In fact, Celestia even hugged him back. The tension slowly faded from his body.

Then she released him, held him at arm's length, and began her usual lecture on faith, "Good job, little one. Now, remember to always keep your faith in the Emperor. He is great. He is merciful. He protects you against the things that hide in the dark and under your bed. Remember to pray at least 10 times a day and go to church and listen to the priests and eat your greens and-…!"

"Alright, Sister Celestia," Malcolm interrupted her zealous ramblings, pulling her to her feet. "Say goodbye to the Angel, kid. We have heretics to smite."

"Bye-bye, Miss Angel!" The boy called as Malcolm dragged Celestia away.

She was still rambling about all the things a good faithful boy should do every day. It was almost impossible to stop her once she'd started and Malcolm was much too amused by her usual antics to be annoyed. Leading her along as she lectured to all who would listen, the pair caught back up to their group as the Inquisitor reached the nearest entrance to the Underhive.

An Adeptus Arbites Officer was giving the Inquisitor a warning of what they could expect in the Underhive, "-Know you're coming, Milord. They'll be prepared and you'll likely encounter heavy resistance when you reach the main population chamber."

Inquisitor X nodded, "As expected. Thank you, Enforcer. You've done your duty well. We shall take it from here. These heretics will be rooted out and burned til not even ash remains."

The officer saluted with the sign of the Aquila, "Milord. I believe their operations are set around a bar down there named 'Wit's End'."

"My sources have informed me of something similar. I'll ask you and your men to set up at all of the other known entrances to the Underhive. You are free to deal with anyone trying to escape however you see fit."

"Your will be done, Milord."

Malcolm and Celestia fell in beside the Inquisitor as he left the Adeptus Arbites Officer to his duty. The Inquisitor acknowledged them with a glance but didn't say anything more. The group began their descent into the Underhive.

The conditions around them at the base level of the Hive City were already poor. As they descended into the darkness that lurked beneath, their surroundings plummeted even further into poverty and depression.

Rust, decay, grime, and filth covered every surface. The path they followed was well-trodden, a discontinued pipe that led deep into the city's bowels. It was the only place in the Underhive that was lit at all. Through the cracks in the pipe, Malcolm and Celestia could only see darkness.

Malcolm regretted that he was actually somewhat used to these conditions. So much of his duty under the Inquisitor took place in dank spaces where the majority of men wouldn't dare to tread. Underhives, tunnels, and wretched caverns were the norm.

The Warp began to press in on him from all sides as their descent continued. Down here, the Immaterium was rank with depression, despair, and death. Malcolm resisted the press of emotion and energy, standing strong with the distant light of the Emperor — visible even here.

There was a closer light in the Warp as well. Celestia shined bright. Malcolm couldn't have lost sight of her if he tried to. He took heart in her presence, practically leaning against her soul unconsciously. The utterly adorable way she nibbled at her lip in anticipation raised his spirits even further.

Celestia prayed and this time, Malcolm didn't feel the desire to stop her faith from shining, "Oh, Emperor of Mankind, entombed upon the Golden Throne for our sake. Let your light lead the way. Let our spirits shine true. Let mankind triumph always over the heretic, the Xeno, and the demon. Oh, Emperor, protect us as we carry out your will and word."

If Malcolm wasn't right next to her, he would have missed the soft addendum she added to the end of her prayer, "A-And keep those that I hold dear safe from Chaos taint… Those with certain unnatural gifts…"

Malcolm felt himself stumble slightly. Something he didn't recognize sparked in his heart. Hope and optimism were usually Celestia's domain. But hearing her pray for him like that made him think, made him hope… Maybe he had a chance after all.

His religious zealot Sister couldn't be this cute! Before he could put too much thought into her whispered prayer or the feeling it inspired inside him though, shit hit the fan. Malcolm soon found himself too focused on staying alive so he could even have a chance to confess his feelings.

At the end of the pipe/path into the Underhive, the group's Guardsmen vanguard opened fire. The air cracked as it was suddenly vaporized by red-hot las-fire. More cracks and bangs answered, coming from auto-guns and stubbers.

Cries of zeal filled the suddenly cramped feeling pipe. Heretical warcries came from just outside. They'd walked right into an ambush. In the end, though, the element of surprise didn't help their prey much.

The Guardsmen quickly overcame the initial resistance. They poured out of the pipe, taking advantageous positions and covering the rest of the Inquisitor's retinue as they exited to join the battle.

Inquisitor X was unflappable as ever. Even under a hail of stubber fire, he didn't flinch. He simply watched as the men under his command fought back against the heretical scum they'd been sent to purge. Against a whole platoon of Guardsmen and his personal retinue, the cultists never stood a chance.

Malcolm and Celestia stayed in the back by the Inquisitor. They were both too valuable to risk in a mere opening skirmish. Celestia was the retinue's healer. And Malcolm was their heavy fire support.

Still, Malcolm had to physically hold Celestia back. She was a rather enthusiastic combatant. Especially when it came to heretics. They were worse than Xenos somehow. And they couldn't have their healer charging in her chainsword even if she could likely clear the whole cult by herself.

Malcolm tried and failed to ignore the pout she gave him when he held her back from doing just that. It was dangerously cute — like everything else about Celestia — and made Malcolm feel like he was the bad guy here somehow.

"Don't look at me like that," He said. "You know what happens if I don't hold you back like this. I'm sure there will still be a heretic or two for you to purge in your holy fire."

Celestia beamed at that reassurance, fiery zeal blazing in her eyes, "Yes~! I'm sure there will be~! Good. It would be such a shame if these heretics didn't taste my flamer at all. These craven scum deserve nothing more than to burn~!"

Her smaller stature and innocent appearance contrasted wonderfully with her vicious words. How did she make threats of fatal religious persecution adorable? Malcolm shifted in place slightly, adjusting himself downstairs subtly. It wasn't the first time he found himself working around his arousal when Celestia got like this.

The battle progressed quickly. The group advanced in short bursts as the cultists rushed at them in waves. Malcolm had nothing to do other than watch over Celestia. It seemed that was the job he found himself doing the most often on their missions.

He had no clue that things were carefully arranged that way. The Inquisitor thought they made a cute couple…

The deaths rippled through the Warp. But next to Celestia, they didn't affect Malcolm much. He was able to huddle beneath her faith and escape the Chaotic ripples untouched.

Every so often, a cultist or two would find their way through the Guardsman to threaten the retinue's back line. Namely, Malcolm and Celestia.

Celestia didn't hesitate to take care of them with a liberal application of her flamer. Healer she may be, she was also more than competent in a fight. She smiled like an Angel. She burned them alive like a Devil.

Malcolm was sure something was broken inside him because he only found the contrast cute instead of at all disturbing.

The group's front line reached Wit's End — the bar where the heretical cult had made their main base. The Guardsmen waited for the Inquisitor's orders. They came quickly, telling them to hold there. Inquisitor X glanced at Malcolm. He was up.

Taking a deep breath, Malcolm stepped forward to do his duty. Celestia stepped forward with him. Anyone else would have been met with protests, a scowl, or biting sarcasm. Celestia just served to set Malcolm's nerves at ease.

He gathered himself. She stood strong beside him. Her faith was blinding and comforting. His willpower was bolstered, clad in glistening golden armor by the Sister next to him. Malcolm called upon the Warp.

The physical world stuttered. The air took on an unnatural chill. Gusts of wind picked up. Ice crystals formed from nothingness. Through it all, Celestia was left completely unaffected.

Pure Warp energy was channeled through Malcolm, molded and shaped by his iron will. He raised his staff. Energy sparked and crackled at the tip. With a bang and a shout, he brought the staff down upon the cracked rockcrete at his feet. Hell exploded forth from his lips.

Flames, unnaturally purple and green, seemed to be exhaled from Malcolm's lungs. He breathed pure Warpfire. The aberrant flames rushed to consume the heretic-infested bar. Metal and rockcrete burned as easily as wood.

Most of the cultists were waiting, prepared for them to storm the bar and walk right into a crossfire. They barely even got time to react before their very souls began to smoke and smolder. Then they were quickly immolated by unholy Warpfire.

A few heretics huddled in the bar's backrooms. They were the masterminds behind the cult and heresy. They were the wisest, having already accepted their fate. But they were also the most vengeful, not willing to go out without a bang.

In their last moments, they called upon the Ruinous Powers. They used their burning life essences to invoke something sinister. A curse. One powered by the Dark Prince of Pleasure and directed solely at the one who killed them.

The curse thrust toward Malcolm's soul like a twisted spear. It pierced the Warpfire as if it wasn't even there, even gaining power from the licking flames. It was Excess, Pleasure incarnate. It was unstoppable.

It ran straight into Celestia's faith. Like an aegis, Celestia's faith in the God-Emperor — the Anathema to all things Chaos — defended against the obscene curse. It blunted the tip of the thrust.

While the curse still penetrated its target, it was greatly diminished. The end result was nothing more than a spell. Dangerous and corruptive but… manageable. Something that could surely be overcome.

Still, Malcolm gasped as the heretics' dying curse hit him. He felt it through the Warp. A great spear, blunted and rusting gold by the time it reached him.

"Oh, pooh~ You didn't save any for me," Celestia pouted goodnaturedly. "Malcolm? Malcolm?!"

The curse was like a punch to the gut of his soul. Malcolm doubled over. Celestia rushed to support him. He gasped, desperately sucking in more air. Just as quickly as the sensation came over him, it passed. Still, Malcolm didn't allow himself to relax.

"Are you well?" Celestia asked when Malcolm stood straight again on shaky legs.

Malcolm shook his head, catching his breath. His eyes landed on his steadfast companion. His focus was seized and stuck there. Her beauty, her grace, her kindness. Malcolm could see nothing else. The world faded away. Then the cravings started.

He was quickly overwhelmed by waves of desire. Need. Pure lust. Something dark and primal roared inside him. Corrupted desire led his urges by chain and shackle. He wanted to defile her. To bring her low and break her with pleasure and excess. To corrupt her pure mortal soul and have them both give in to the Prince of Pleasure's curse.

Malcolm's basest desires surged. Intrusive thoughts he would have normally dismissed without hesitation rushed to the fore. Temptation struck him. Unearthly whispers graced his mind, seducing him to give in and utterly ruin Celestia.

Her ravished form would stare up at him. She would be taken and consumed by the throes of undying passion. Her eyes — so sweet and innocent — would beg him for mercy and he would give her none. Twisted visions of bittersweet pleasure flashed before his mind's eye.

Celestia rode him like a wanton woman. A collar encircled her neck, keeping her in firm bondage to his every desire. He pulled at the chain connecting them. He was just as much a slave to their shared pleasure as she was…

Her legs were thrown in the air over his shoulders. Her body writhed with blissful sensation below him. He slammed into her with not a care in the world. No matter how much he tried, he couldn't stop his furious movements.

Devoted eyes stared up at him. Lips that should have been whispering prayers and kindness instead worshipped him. Celestia's faith was corrupted, twisted to serve him and him alone. She wasn't even the same woman anymore. In the vision, Malcolm didn't even care that he'd destroyed the most beautiful soul he'd ever seen.

Malcolm recoiled. Disgust and loathing tempered his mind. He rebelled against the curse, rebelled against the temptation. He could never! He would never! He would rather die than do such a heinous disservice to Celestia!

The visions faded but lingered on the edges of his mind. He was thrown back into his body. He panted, hyperventilating as he struggled to regain control.

He tried everything. Every self-control exercise that had been drilled into his head by the Astra Telepathica. Every psychic reinforcement of his willpower and control. Every prayer and exaltation of the God-Emperor, pleading for even the barest hint of assistance in fighting off the Chaos taint that threatened to consume him.

His breathing was strained, his muscles, tense. Malcolm felt like he was balancing on a razor's edge over a great pit. Below him was only damnation. The death of his very soul. Not just from being consumed by the Ruinous Powers, but from what he would do to Celestia if he lost himself.

"M-Malcolm?" Celestia got his attention, concern heavy in her voice. "Let me help you."

Despite himself, Malcolm laughed, "I don't think that's a good idea."

Celestia would not be deterred, "What's wrong? What has overtaken you?"

"Chaos… taint…" Malcolm bit out. "A spell, a curse… Leave me, Celestia. Save yourself while you can."

"Never," Celestia asserted firmly. "We shall overcome this together."

Malcolm chuckled bitterly, "Again, not a good idea."

Celestia replied almost fiercely, "I do not care. I won't abandon you. The Emperor Protects. I shall lead you back to salvation."

Malcolm groaned. Then growled at himself. Her purity was tantalizing. The curse drove him to twist it around his little finger and destroy it. Her ruin would be beautiful. Malcolm refused.

Suddenly, the rest of the world came knocking in the form of the Inquisitor, "Good job, Malcolm. The mission is complete thanks to you. But now, why do you dawdle?"

"Sir!" Celestia exclaimed for Malcolm. "Our resident psyker seems to have injured himself while doing his duty. Permission to take him for healing?"

The Inquisitor blinked, "Injured? How so?"

"I believe it is something esoteric, Sir," Celestia explained. "I plan to hold vigil over him and pray the effects away with relentless faith."

The Inquisitor's eyes were sharp and cold, "I see… You have my permission. Your faith is the most effective of our number. But if all seems lost, I leave it up to you to give him mercy. For the Emperor."

Celestia hesitated for the briefest of moments before her zealous faith reasserted itself, "… For the Emperor!"

"As you please, Sister Celestia. We shall handle the cleanup here. I believe you will have the most luck with your quest in the ship's cathedral. You may take the shuttle so long as you have it returned for us afterward," Inquisitor X said.

"Yes, Sir! Thank you, Sir!" Celestia saluted.

As much as he tried, Malcolm could only pay attention to half of the conversation. The rest of his focus was on keeping himself under control. On keeping his elevated urges suppressed. Celestia supported him as they took their leave from the rest of the group.

"Do you feel bloodlust?" Celestia inquired after they were a ways away from anybody else, trying to diagnose which Ruinous Power the effect on Malcolm was coming from.

"The opposite," Malcolm grunted.

"O-Oh…" Celestia blushed but her determination wasn't shaken.

Still, her mind raced as Malcolm's situation became more clear to her. He was being consumed by lust, minus the blood. Possibilities for what she could personally do to quell those urges surfaced in her mind. Was… Was that why he thought her help was ill-advised…? O-Oh my…

They were both silent for the entire journey back to the ship's cathedral. Celestia was lost in thought and a strange anticipation she didn't want to admit to. Malcolm was lost in the struggle against his current affliction. The journey back took upwards of an hour and by the time they were safe and sound in the ship's cathedral, Malcolm was at his Wit's End.

When they were both inside, Celestia had the cathedral emptied, barred, and blocked. It would not do for them to be interrupted. She took a few fortifying breaths, pushing down feelings of excited anticipation. Surprisingly, she found no objections to her current course of action from her body or soul.

She nodded to herself with adorable determination, "O-Okay! Now, I must ask you to disrobe, Malcolm."

"What? No, that's a terrible idea!" Malcolm protested.

"Ah ah!" Celestia tutted. "Who's the healer here? That's what I thought. So take off your armor. Healer's orders."

"I've been cursed with a spell of lust and this is your solution?!" Malcolm asked incredulously.

"Yes. Don't fret. I shall join you. Together, we shall work through this corruptive taint," Celestia blushed fiercely but she was resolute in her course of action.

Malcolm's lust swelled and roared. He winced, trying his best to push it back down, "I-I don't want to hurt you…"

Celestia approached him without an ounce of fear in her heart, placing a calming hand on his cheek, "You won't. You're a good man, Malcolm. I know you won't hurt me. So… just let me help you, yes?"

Malcolm let out a shuddering breath, leaning into her touch, "… Are you sure this will work?"

Celestia promised, "Your story does not end here, Malcolm. I shall channel the God-Emperor's light through faith and prayer and you shall be purged of all taint. The Emperor wills it and so it shall be."

"So you're just planning on fucking the curse out of me?" Malcolm gave a strained chuckle, barely believing his ears.

Celestia blushed from the tips of her ears down to the base of her neck, "Think of it as a simple religious exorcism. That is what I will be doing."

"Of course, you will…" Malcolm sighed, feeling a small light of hope in his chest begin to crumble.

"A-And Malcolm…?" Celestia stuttered. "There's something we should talk about once this is all over."

"Talk about wha-…?" Malcolm began to say.

He was interrupted and silenced quickly by what Celestia did next. Nervous courage forced her to act. She rose onto her tiptoes. Her hand on his cheek angled him down toward her, bringing him closer. Celestia pressed her lips to his softly.

Celestia leaned into the kiss. It was chaste and soft, a sweet promise of something to come more than anything that would feed Malcolm's curse. Malcolm felt his mind stutter and stop.

When Celestia broke the kiss, she couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes, "W-We should begin now…"

Malcolm stared at her in shock. Her blush was practically luminescent after their kiss. Irrational nerves surfaced in her mind. If she had managed to look at Malcolm, they would have been squashed in an instant. With her embarrassment as it was, she leaned heavily on her faith, reassuring herself with the idea that the Emperor had a plan for the two of them.

Celestia took the lead, beginning to disrobe. Still, she didn't look up at Malcolm, now embarrassed for a different reason. Would he like her? Would she be enough to satisfy his Chaotic desire?

Malcolm's shocked stare transitioned into an open-mouthed gape. She was more than enough. She was everything he wanted, everything he needed.

A pure, innocently determined expression conquered Celestia's blush. Her hair was freed from her nun's habit. It only fell to just below her chin. But like the habit, it framed her face perfectly.

There was a hiss as Celestia's power armor depressurized. With long familiarity, she removed the breastplate from her torso, leaving her in a simple red robe. Her gloves came off next. She stepped out of her armored greaves and boots.

When only her underrobe remained, Celestia finally looked up at Malcolm. She saw him just standing there, frozen with shock. She cocked her head cutely, not quite cluing in on what had him so stuck.

"Do you need help disrobing, Malcolm?"

Malcolm swallowed hard around the lump in his throat, "I, uh, I suppose a little help wouldn't be remiss."

Celestia nodded, satisfied that she'd figured out what was wrong, "I see. Very well. Come here. I shall assist you."

Malcolm counted his lucky stars as he did as she requested. He even thanked the Emperor. The strangest sensation answered his thanks. Almost like an acknowledging toast from across a bar. As if the Emperor was raising a glass of Amasec for him.

Celestia ran her hands along his body, undoing clasps and straps here and there. Malcolm wore less armor than her but there was still a heavy metal breastplate in the way of him undressing fully. She removed it with ease. Malcolm looked at her with an unspoken question in his eyes.

Celestia ducked her head slightly, "… I tend to watch you prepare and equip your armor."

Normally, Malcolm would have had a witty comeback prepared for that reveal. Now, he was just speechless. The almost giddy feeling of hope in his breast was momentarily pushing back his cursed urges.

With them both in their underrobes, Malcolm and Celestia just stared at each other. For a moment that seemed to stretch into eternity, something unspoken passed between them. A shared hope for when this mess was over and done with.

Then Malcolm's curse reared its corrupt head and set his blood on fire. He winced and hissed. Suddenly, he was scrambling to get out of his robes. Only when his skin touched the air did the burning stop. Still, the damage was done. His cursed urges were reignited.

"Such a glorious form," Celestia muttered in awe. "Truly, you are made in the Emperor's image, Malcolm. That can be the only explanation for how utterly alluring I find you…"

Her last sentence was muttered as if she was trying to convince herself of it. Unsure and shaky, her hands reached out to touch him.

His skin was hot to the touch. Her fingers were so soft, so dainty, and so gentle on his skin. She traced the lines of his muscles. Her touch glided over his lean body — up his arms and down his chest to settle against his abdomen.

"Ah, fuck…" Malcolm had to close his eyes to keep from taking Celestia there and then.

"A-Ah~!" Celestia realized what she was doing with a breathless gasp. "Apologies, Malcolm. I suppose I should disrobe fully as well."

"That… might be a good idea. I don't know how much longer I can hold myself back."

"O-Oh my~…"

Celestia quickly shrugged herself out of her robe. Malcolm opened his eyes just in time to get a perfect view of heaven.

Her skin was so pale, so perfect. Unmarred by any blemish, she looked like a master-crafted porcelain doll. Lean muscle covered her body but didn't detract from her femininity.

Her figure was fuller than Malcolm expected. Full, pillowy breasts hung free, seemingly unaffected by gravity. Small and tight, Celestia's waist slimmed wonderfully.

Her hips swelled in a way that begged Malcolm to run his hands over her curves. Her ass was perfect. High and tight. Bubbly and bouncy. Malcolm wanted nothing more than to take a bite out of that perfect peach.

Her full thighs — strong and muscled but covered by a layer of soft flesh — rubbed against each other as she stepped from the pile her robes had made at her feet. Strings of sticky liquid arousal decorated her inner thighs, dripping from the plump lips of her pussy.

She shifted on her feet nervously, drawing attention to those wonderful breeding hips, "A-Am I enough to satisfy your w-wretched cursed desires…?"

"Celestia~" Malcolm growled. "You'd better start praying~"

"What do you mEEEEAAAANNNN~!?!" That was all Celestia managed to get out before Malcolm practically attacked her.

He lunged forward. His hands settled around her waist. Celestia found herself lifted up onto him. Her legs naturally wrapped around to lock together behind his back. Her head fell back with a loud moan as pleasure exploded from her chest.

Malcolm assaulted her breasts. He nipped. He sucked. He licked and lapped, his tongue twirled over every inch of her sensitive skin.

Celestia's breasts-… No. Malcolm couldn't think of them as anything less than perfect tits. Tremendous titties. Utter perfection. They were gifts to the world.

Her chest shuddered with each breath. She clung to him, pulling him into her so he could continue his assault. So he would never stop.

He lavished her chest with attention, practically devouring her from nipple to sternum. Her skin was on fire. Her nipples were so erect they almost hurt.

Malcolm thoroughly ravished her chest. Perky and perfect, her breasts never seemed to lose their natural shape. No matter how much he nipped and nibbled. No matter how much he sucked and pulled. Those perfect teardrops were a playground for his tongue and lips.

Celestia felt his manhood beneath her. She'd ignored it up until now. Mostly out of embarrassment. She no longer could.

He throbbed so hot and strong against the curve of her ass. It was as if she was sitting on the rock-hard rod. As if the sheer strength of his desire for her was all that supported her.

She felt herself being lost to the sensations. To Malcolm's passion and lust. Celestia almost forgot why they were doing this. A particularly hard bite to the swell of her breast reminded her. Malcolm would never hurt her in his right mind.

"A-Ah~! Malcolm! S-Slow down~! I must pray for you!" Celestia gasped.

Malcolm just growled. Instead of replying verbally, he attacked her supple skin even harder. His nips grew to bites. He wanted nothing more than to mark her as his. To leave her skin red and sore. To leave her mind ruined and his alone.

Still clutching him to her chest, Celestia began to pray and chant, "The Emperor protects. The Emperor protects. The Emperor protects! Let his glorious light banish the taint of Chaos filth!"

In the Warp, the light of faith flooded out of Celestia's soul. It washed over Malcolm. It surrounded him. It began to work its way into his very soul.

"He is our lord, god of mankind. He is our savior, the light that pushes back the shadows. He is the God-Emperor, eternal may He reign!"

Celestia's faith — the God-Emperor's light — crept slowly over Malcolm's soul, purging and bleaching the fabric of his being of any taint. The curse stuttered and shied away. Like a dark mark on the fabric of his being, it lingered, holding on stubbornly for dear life.

Malcolm's lust never wavered or diminished. If anything, it surged, coming unbound from the unnatural curse bit by bit.

He snarled against Celestia's skin. His body shifted, trying to get more, more, more! Of the satisfaction. Of the pleasure. Of Celestia. 

Eventually, Malcolm found himself lined up perfectly. The death throes of the cruel Chaos curse acted out through his body. Without a care for her pleasure or comfort, he pulled her down.

His cock split her open. He slammed hilt-deep on the first thrust. Her insides coiled around him, forced apart by overpowering, burning steel.

"Be cleansed! Be free! In the God-Emperor's name, I give myself for you! Malcolmmmmm~!" Celestia's prayer transitioned into a squeal of sensation.

A virginity sacrificed to the God-Emperor in Malcolm's name. It was like being dunked in the holiest of waters. Malcolm froze. His mind stilled. His soul burned with the Emperor's light, erasing every last shadow of taint.

Buried cock-deep inside her, he felt every movement of Celestia around him. There was no blood. But she was too tight. Too pure. Too innocent. Realization struck him. This was her first time.

Curse gone, his lust softened. He held Celestia close as she spasmed and twitched. Pleasure and pain raced through her veins. She clung to him tightly, whispering his name again and again.

"Malcolm~ Malcolm~ Malcolm~ Malcolm~ Oh, Malcolm~"

He eventually mustered the strength of will to whisper back to her instead of just basking in her curse-shattering warmth and tightness, "… It worked, Celestia."

"T-Truly…?" She asked into the crook of his neck.

"Truly," He confirmed.

He felt her smile against his skin, "I am glad."

"As am I," He replied. "Beyond thankful as well. For you to give up something so important to help me… Well, frankly, it beggars belief."

"I did not give up anything that was not already reserved for you," Celestia mumbled, barely noticing what she was saying.

She noticed the way he twitched at that information though, "I-… Celestia, why were you saving your virginity for me?"

Despite the embarrassing question, Celestia found herself smiling as Malcolm's usual teasing tone returned to his voice, "I wanted you to have it. I wanted you to take it."

Malcolm turned her confession over in his mind in shock. Then he chuckled, "… You probably wished it would be during a more romantic moment though, right?"

Celestia giggled, "I think this moment is plenty romantic. The God-Emperor watching over us. Chaos, defeated and banished. Us… together…"

"That's sweet and all… but wouldn't you at least prefer a bed?" Malcolm asked, amused.

Her cheeks heated up, "… I like the way you hold me."

Her innocent, embarrassed words made Malcolm throb inside her. He groaned. Celestia gasped. Her insides tightened. Their current position was dragged to the front of both of their minds.

Celestia realized just how full she was. How wonderfully full~ Her plump lower lips stretched taut around his girth. She clenched, flexing the muscles of her core as if she were exploring the new sensations.

Malcolm felt everything. Every twitch. Every flutter. Little shocks and tingles radiated from their tight cores with each movement. Even without thrusting, those cores were wound tighter and tighter in an ever-increasing spiral of bliss.

Like a tight glove, Celestia clung to every inch of his cock. Her depths were hot enough to scald his sensitive skin. So wet, evidence of her arousal drenched his crotch. Their thighs became a sticky mess of ecstasy as they ground against each other.

"I believe we could be done with this now that the curse has been destroyed…" Malcolm 'suggested'. He hesitated to even put it into words but he felt he had to give Celestia the option just in case.

Celestia whined, "Noooo~ Now this is, uhm… recovery time! Yes, Healer's orders. We must be sure you have fully recovered. So you can't stop. We can't stop. You must… make love to me. To be sure…"

Malcolm groaned, "I think I can do that. Just to be sure, of course. I would never dream of defiling you like this again, Celestia."

She thought quickly, coming up with an excuse to keep him within her grasp for the future, "You must! Yes… You must. For your continued recovery. The effects of Chaos can be long-lasting. I will need to keep an eye on you for the rest of your life, Malcolm."

Malcolm's stomach did flips, his heart skipped, and he throbbed inside her. His words didn't show his excitement, "I see… If you insist."

Celestia pulled back to look him in the eye, "I do. Healer's orders. I shall lead you away from your sinful sorcerous ways and back to salvation, Malcolm. For as long as you live, I shall be your guiding shield, an extension of His will and favor for you."

She let her eyes say everything she didn't put into words. The corners of his lips quirked up as he caught the unsaid confession, "That sounded almost like a proposal, Celestia."

Celestia's blush and nibbled lip — pure and innocent — said more than her words ever could, "Then I suppose you will have to honor it as such."

He chuckled, "I suppose I can do that."

Pure happiness radiated from Celestia, outside and in. Her smile lit up the room. Her emotions lit up the Warp. She wiggled in his arms. That happiness quickly turned sensual.

Celestia moaned. Her eyelids fluttered. Her wiggles took on a purpose. Slowly, her hips shifted back and forth in Malcolm's embrace. She rocked on his cock.

Pleasure rumbled in Malcolm's chest. He helped her move. Slowly, sensually, they came together repeatedly, never separating more than an inch at a time. He held her up as she ground herself onto his cock.

Feelings she'd only dared to dream of became a reality for Celestia. Her whole body tingled. Pleasure washed out from the place they were connected. She felt her pussy pulse, sending her innocent mind spiraling deeper and deeper into carnal satisfaction.

Malcolm rolled his hips up into her. Every pseudo-thrust pushed him as deep as he could go. He stretched her cunt around him. She panted and whimpered breathlessly. Her inner walls quivered, beating against his hot, hard cock like hummingbird wings.

Their coupling intensified. They came together quicker, harder, and deeper over and over again. Malcolm was thrusting properly now. His hips pounded up into her glorious pussy. His pelvis smacked against her cushiony cheeks.

Malcolm nearly stumbled on his feet. He let her fall forward. Celestia clung to him, not willing to let go. Her back hit the altar gently and she was laid out before him.

"Y-Yessss~! For the Emperor~! Make love to me before His eyes~! Show Him the glory of mankind, the glory of us, Malcolm~!" Celestia keened, not forgetting her faith even now.

Malcolm internally apologized for the heresy but the Emperor was the farthest thing from his mind at the moment. He got the faint impression of a distant nod of approval. As if that was the way things should be.

He grabbed Celestia's marvelously muscled legs, pulling them upright. He hugged them to his chest as he pounded into her. Celestia was even tighter in this position. And they could both feel it.

Her skin was smooth and soft on his. Her pussy rippled around his cock like writhing silk. He fucked her as if he was trying to smother every fold he found inside her.

Every spot he struck with the blunt head of his cock sent Celestia into even more mewling moans. He angled his hips and thrusts, searching for what got the most out of Celestia's beautiful reactions. They were like a drug to his pleasured mind, pushing him farther, harder, and faster.

He buried himself deep inside her. He pulled out to the tip in a flash. Over and over, he thrust himself upon her, into her. Their bodies collided audibly. Their grunts and groans, moans and murmurs filled the air.

Celestia's hair splayed around her head like a short halo. Her expression was rapturous. Her body jiggled from the force of Malcolm's thrusts.

Her hands reached for his, coming up off the altar where they were grasping at nothing for support. Though he had to partially let go of her luscious legs, he reached back for her.

Their hands met. Their fingers intertwined. Celestia screamed. The handholding was the final straw, the final push that sent her tumbling over the edge. She came, her walls clenching and her muscles tensing.

Malcolm grunted, trying to thrust through the suddenly gripping tightness. He pummeled her pussy through orgasm and straight into another. Celestia's second climax broke his control.

He pushed himself hilt-deep inside her. Her pussy lips felt like they were trying to wink around him. Her insides clung to him, practically vacuum-sealing him within her. Her pussy gripped his cock as tightly as her hand gripped his.

He exploded, he burst, he spilled himself into her depths. The tense springs of pleasure that their cores had become uncoiled with a snap.

Celestia felt him pulse inside of her, every time sending another flood of warmth to her womb. He came and came, seemingly never running out of thick seed for her. She was stuffed, filled, with a river of fiery passion and pleasure.

Time seemed to slow to a crawl, the wait between each fresh rope of cum practically unbearable. White-hot pleasure overtook their minds. Together, they came undone.

Even as they faded back to reality, Malcolm's climax only slowed to a pulsing trickle. They stayed completely connected at the hips. Celestia's legs freed themselves from his grasp, interlocking behind him and pulling him atop her.

Her free hand came up to stroke his hair. Slowly, almost shyly, she leaned up to kiss him. Despite the intense rutting passion they had just shown each other, the kiss was gentle and chaste. Celestia shuddered around and beneath him, melting into his embrace.

They lay like that, cuddling atop an altar in a cathedral until a thought came to Malcolm. He broke the kiss with a smirk. Celestia didn't quite pout at the action but she certainly wanted to.

"Think the Inquisitor will let us retire if I manage to impregnate you?" He asked teasingly.

Celestia blushed scarlet but she wasn't completely opposed to the idea, "P-Perhaps… Securing the next generation of Imperial servants is just as important as our duties under him."

Malcolm's smirk deepened, "Well, it's worth a try~"

"What do you me-ooooohhhh~! Yes, Malcolm~! Breed meeeeee~!" Celestia's question quickly turned into a moaning plea as Malcolm pushed her into a mating press and resumed his thrusts.

"For the Emperor," Malcolm said soberly and solemnly as if his new god-given duty was to see Celestia barefoot and pregnant and keep her that way.

Stars away, on Holy Terra, a half-dead golden god radiated a sense of smug satisfaction. One of his ever-loyal custodians sighed, "Another baby boom, most likely. And perhaps a new Imperial Saint while he's at it."

Out of the shadows of the Golden Throne, a statuesque Sister of Silence appeared to drag the Custodes away, "Come, Brother Andriel. The Emperor demands more babies and top-quality, hip-smacking, womb-pounding, cock-throbbing breeding."

As he was dragged away to do his — admittedly enjoyable — duty, the Custodes turned to level a glare and parting remark at the golden god, "Father, you are a pervert."

The scene repeated itself around the cavernous chamber. Custodes after Custodes was dragged off by quite often all too eager Sisters of Silence. Then, a small splintering shard of the massive mostly-shattered soul of the God of Mankind sighed.

"Oh, what I wouldn't give to have my cock back…"

The sole remaining soul in the chamber — a Tech-Priest who was partially hooked into the Golden Throne — snorted, "Tell me about it."