First lil' foray into writing omakes, also like 50% of my Warhammer knowledge is literally this story, so please correct any mistakes.
Emeli's Conundrum
Power or Love? A question that has befuddled Man since He conceived of such notions. For what is power without a kindred to share in its glory? What is love without the power to enjoy it to the fullest? Hundreds of philosophers, kings, and tycoons have driven themselves mad pondering the choice, and thousands more drove themselves to depression with the dissatisfaction of either choice. Emeli was not pleased to be the first Daemon to suffer such petty concerns. She dedicated herself to Excess! She should have it all, and even more!
"Why, Slaanesh, why?" she bawled, her tears so profuse they refused to dissipate into the Empyrean, "I dedicated most of my existence to your glory. The Liberator turned mostly due to my seduction. I maintained a loyal temple to you for years under the glare of the Anathema. Even now, you yourself state how pleasing my love for dear Ciaphas is to you, my lord. So why do you deny me the marks of your favor?"
For perhaps the first time in history, the Prince of Pleasure smiled indulgently. "My dear, I may deny you the marks, but your power grows by the second! What need have you of such petty marks when your will alone can shape reality?"
Emeli whined in frustration. "It is not just the power itself that matters so! I am not yet the most powerful demon under your aegis, so I am still beholden to the petty opinions of the others! As my power grows, the respect they have for me decreases! Fulgrim himself has denounced me as a weakling too bound to the whims of mortals to truly ascend to the top!" but already, the God of Obsession had turned away, seeking some other fresh joy.
Emeli sighed and willed an image of herself in front of her. A human nose, sculpted to perfection of course, but a normal human nose; beautiful, rich red lips (imagining them against Cain's lifted her spirits somewhat (Cain suddenly jumped up from his bed in the capital. Emperor, that was one hell of a dream!)), but a shade natural to mortals, not the insane ~ of her fellow daemonettes; a short pink, playful tongue ((What is with these dreams lately?! Cain thought as he jumped up awake for the fifth day in a row, the lurid images refusing to fade)), great for sticking out at dear Cain to tease him ((now this is just ridiculous! I thought Krystabel already spoke with Emeli?!)) but not so great at grabbing prey in battle; thick, luscious black hair, but made of normal hair, not the beautiful snakes of her sisters...
No. All the power in the universe and the Warp was not worth the love of dear Liberator. Her ascension did not dull the memory of the one who made it possible, and she would be blessed before she forgot.
She needed to remind herself. Krystabel, she whispered, I have need of you.
Emeli sighed. Cain really was a degenerate, for what other explanation could there be for him to prefer this disgustingly drab visage of his beloved? He must have indulged in so many depraved pleasures in the Materium for him to want such a distinct change in his girl. In any case, she shook off her malaise for the past century/3 seconds, and cupped dear Ciaphas's eyes with Krystabel's hands, and all her issues faded into insignificance. "Guess who?"
In a corner of the Immaterium, She Who Thirsts laughed/cried. Ohhh, the past day/second fed him fuller than anything since the Fall!