#galaxy of fear: the swarm

[frc-ambaradan]

«Thrawn stood with his hands behind his back, studying the flowers as though they were the secret of the universe. "Interesting," he muttered to himself as they passed by. "Most revealing." "What do you know?" Zak whispered to Tash. "He really is a nut for flowers."»

John Whitman, Galaxy of Fear: The Swarm (1998)

[getthrawnin]

A redux. It was partially cut. Sorry.

“I encounter civilians like you all the time. You believe the Empire is continually plotting to do harm. Let me tell you, your view of the Empire is far too dramatic. The Empire is a government. It keeps billions of beings fed and clothed. Day after day, year after year, on thousands of worlds, people live their lives under Imperial rule without seeing a stormtrooper or hearing a TIE fighter scream overhead.”

— Captain Thrawn to Tash Arranda

[luv-lock]

What's alien reader and conquest's whole dynamic like? What would mark feel about it also your writing is so good!

Their relationship is... confusing.

Conquest didn’t know what hit him.

One second, he was standing there, minding his own murderous business—

And the next?

A glowing, ethereal alien woman was in his face.

Floating. Beautiful. Eyes like galaxies.

And before he could react—

Her hands were on his face.

Soft. Gentle. Like a whisper against his skin.

He froze.

No one had ever touched him like that before.

Like he was fragile. Like he was human.

Then—

She spoke.

Soft. Loving. Creepy as hell.

"Lost," she murmured, tilting her head. "Empty. You are lonely, yes?"

Conquest’s blood ran cold.

"…What?"

She didn’t answer.

Just stroked his scarred face.

Her fingers traced his blind eye.

And suddenly—

Pain.

A deep, aching pain.

And then—

Warmth.

His vision returned.

His eye—

Was healed.

Conquest staggered back, gripping his face.

"You—"

She smiled.

And kissed his forehead.

"You are family now," she whispered.

Conquest had no idea what the fuck was happening.

But for the first time in his long, violent life—

He felt safe.

Conquest is used to fear. He is used to respect.

But love? Kindness?

What the fuck is that?

She doesn’t fear him. At all.

This unnerves him.

He has crushed entire planets. He has slaughtered civilizations.

And yet—

She treats him like a child.

"You are strong, yes," she muses, running her fingers through his wild hair.

"But strength is lonely, no?"

Conquest grits his teeth. He does not want to talk about this.

But she sees through him.

She sees everything.

He tries to push her away. She doesn’t budge.

"You are family now," she insists.

"You are alone. I was alone, too. No more. You are mine."

Conquest short-circuits.

She just declared ownership over him.

And he… doesn’t hate it.

Mark walks in one day to see his alien wife sitting in Conquest’s lap, stroking his hair.

Mark.exe has stopped working.

"What the—WHAT ARE YOU DOING?!"

She blinks at him. "Hush. Baby need love."

"WHAT."

Conquest just sits there, glaring.

But he’s leaning into her touch.

Mark is losing his goddamn mind.

"HE TRIED TO KILL ME."

"That was then," she hums, pressing a soft kiss to Conquest’s forehead.

"This is now."

She treats him like one of her own.

And honestly?

It’s kind of terrifying.

She pets his head like he’s a dog.

She corrects his posture.

"Sit up straight, little one."

"I WILL KILL YOU—"

"You are slouching."

He immediately fixes it.

She kisses his forehead before he goes to battle.

"Be safe."

"I don’t need—"

She kisses him again.

"Return to me."

Conquest has stopped functioning.

She forces him to eat proper meals.

"Meat. Eat."

"I don’t need—"

She shoves food into his mouth.

Mark physically cannot comprehend this.

His wife just adopted a goddamn war criminal.

The kids love their new ‘Uncle’

Uncle Con.

He hates it.

But the tiny, glowing, fairy-like children do not give a single shit.

They swarm him.

They sit on his shoulders.

They chew on his hair.

They nap on his chest.

"Hhhghh," Conquest grumbles as twelve babies snuggle into his arms.

"Be gentle," she warns, placing another baby in his hands.

He does not move.

He has slaughtered planets, but he is TERRIFIED of dropping this tiny, fragile thing.

The child hugs his finger.

Conquest. Is. Done.

She doesn’t believe in platonic love.

She kisses Conquest freely.

His forehead. His cheek. The corner of his lips.

"You are mine," she reminds him.

"You are family."

Conquest does not know how to process this.

Mark is dying inside.

"What the hell are you two?!" Mark exclaims.

"Are you friends? Are you—are you—WHAT IS THIS?!"

She blinks. "Family."

Mark is losing it.

"THAT DOESN’T ANSWER ANYTHING."

He is jealous as hell.

"WHY DO YOU TREAT HIM LIKE HE’S SPECIAL?!"

"He special."

"I’M YOUR HUSBAND!"

"Yes."

"THEN WHY ARE YOU KISSING HIM?!"

"He family, too."

Mark is physically shaking.

Meanwhile, Conquest thinks this is hilarious.

"What’s wrong, boy? Can’t handle sharing?"

"I WILL PUNCH YOU IN THE THROAT, OLD MAN."

"Try it, whelp."

But then—

One of the babies kisses Conquest’s cheek.

And Conquest freezes.

Then he just… melts.

And Mark has to watch, in horror, as Conquest slowly becomes part of their family.

She sleeps on him.

Literally just curls up on his massive chest and purrs like a cat.

She sings to him.

Ancient lullabies in her old language.

It is the only thing that puts him to sleep.

He lets the kids style his hair.

They give him braids.

They put flowers in his mustache.

He acts like he hates it.

But he never takes them out.

Conquest, the most feared warrior in the Viltrum Empire, is now a giant babysitter.

He carries five of them on his shoulders at all times.

They braid his hair.

They make him flower crowns.

Mark walks in one day and—

Mark: stares

Mark: squints

Mark: "Is that… a flower crown?"

Conquest: grunts "It means nothing."

The children: cheer happily in their weird frog-song voices

Her: "It means he is loved."

Conquest: grunts, but his ears are red

The Viltrumites are terrified.

No one knows what to do about this.

Why is Conquest so soft now?

Why does he let her touch him?

Why does he let her KISS HIM?

Why is he babysitting?

WHY IS HE WEARING A FLOWER CROWN?

But if you touch her or Mark? you're dead.

Because as much as she tames Conquest—

She also unleashes him.

Someone insults Mark?

Conquest rips their spine out.

Someone threatens her children?

Conquest goes on a warpath.

Someone disrespects her?

Conquest snaps their neck.

Her: patting his cheek "Good boy."

Conquest: smirks

Mark: horrified "BABE."

Conquest doesn’t talk about his past.

But she knows.

He was made for war.

He was never meant to be anything else.

"You were lost," she murmurs one night, stroking his face.

"So was I."

Conquest swallows. "And now?"

She smiles. "Now, we are found."

He hates how much that means to him.

He hates how much he wants to believe it.

But when her soft lips press against his forehead—

He lets himself believe.

Mark doesn’t understand.

Nobody understands.

But she understands him.

And he understands her.

She is his first love.

Not in a romantic way. Not in a sexual way.

But in a way that he has never known.

Because for the first time in his long, violent existence—

He is not alone.

In Short Their Relationship Is:

Creepy & wholesome.

Soft touches & forehead kisses.

Mommy issues in real-time.

Mark is having a mental breakdown.

Uncle Con is suffering, but secretly loves it.

The babies own him now.

Love is weird.

[wh40kartwork]

Grand Master Mordrak

by George Vincent

The only survivor of the Fortress world of Mortain after its destruction by the Red Corsairs Chaos Space Marines, the guilt of that survival gnawed at him daily and visions of his fallen comrades haunted him. Fearing he had become corrupted, Mordrak submitted himself to the Rituals of Purity, but was judged clean of taint. Still the manifestations plagued him, almost to the point of insanity.

On the world of Ralindri, Mordrak would be separated from his Battle-Brothers by a teleporter malfunction. Plunged directly into a plain swarming with Daemons, he was saved by two shining Terminators. Found alone amidst scores of slain Daemons, none could explain Mordrak's deliverance or who his rescuers had been

Eventually, as these mysterious allies continued to appear wherever Mordrak fought, it became clear who they were: his comrades who had fallen on Mortain, given form and voice by Mordrak's own psychic might. Mortain's fallen had become bound to him at the moment of their deaths, whispering to him to take revenge on Huron Blackheart, master of the Red Corsairs. So did Mordrak gather to him a force of Battle-Brothers and depart Titan, determined to lay to rest the fallen that plagued him. Though he continually hunts Huron Blackheart near the The Maelstrom, Mordrak has not abandoned his greater mission and still responds to Daemonic incursions across the Galaxy. (from Lexicanum)

[cosmica-galaxy]

https://www.tumblr.com/cosmica-galaxy/780225198210383872/i-just-thought-of-something-funny-because-of-shock?source=share

YOU READ MY MIND, THAT WAS WHAT I WAS THINKING OF EXPLAING WHY THEY'D WANNA EAT HUMAN FLESH! Same braincell...

Like witches said the reason dark enchantress was so powerful was because she killed and ate a witch to become a god and that all the cookies of the land learned about it AND the whole 'baked to b3 eaten' thing so cookies had sworn that any human who enters their world would become every cookie in the land's five course meal as a way to both get stronger AND get revenge on those of flesh...scaring humans...but y/n wanted to see the beautiful world after hearing so many stories about it and the cookies so they go into their world thinking as long as they stay away from the cookies...they'll be ok...and not be swarmed by flesh eating cookies as if someone just laid down on an ant hill...

Still how would the cookies react to seeing the human terrified of them and being 100% sure the cookies were gonna eat em? Like how would they react to y/n running away from them like 'PLEASE, I DON'T WANNA DIE, I JIST WANTED TO SEE YOUR WORLD! I DONT WANT TO TURN INTO A WHOLE WORLD'S BUFFET!!!'

(Bet in order to try to talk to y/n...they'd have to find a way to trap em...meaning the fear has to get WORSE before it gets better! XD)

Oh man, I can see the shenanigans. The human and cookies run away from one another, the cookies stop once they realize the human is running the OPPOSITE way, they turn tail to give chase, the human starts screaming that "THEY'RE CHASING ME!!!" while pretty much mowing down any obstacle that gets in their way. They probably fall down a cliff in their panic and probably get stuck/hurt that way. Scrambling to get back up as they see the group of cookies trying to get down to get them. Then it turns into a "THEY CAN SMELL MY BLOOD AAAAAAAA-!!" scenario.

Lots of property damage and ruined forest later, they (and the cookies that have been chasing them) are both tired as hell. Finally, the human climbs up to a difficult to reach area and finally feels safe enough to collapse there to rest, while the cookies are stuck down below.

Think of it like the human manages to climb onto a counter to get away from the cookies, like a woman with a mouse in the kitchen. Then I think the diplomacy can start once both parties are pretty much exhausted and tired.

The human feels safer up in their little hideaway and the cookies form a plan to try and either get up there or get some answers out of the human and why they are here and wandering around. The human stays up there for the rest of the day, sees the cookies staking out from down below at a camp, and feels like they are just waiting for them to come down to eat them. Neither party sleeps well that night. In the morning, both cookies and human are tired from the night-long stakeout/fearful hiding that they all finally start talking to one another and come to an understanding. The human finally comes down and the cookies are curious, but still respectfully wary of them. (I like to imagine a scooby doo ass chase scene while they are "running for their life" from the "man-eating" cookies) XD

[niqhtlord01]

Humans are weird: The Folly of Gel’vana

( Please come see me on my new patreon and support me for early access to stories and personal story requests :D https://www.patreon.com/NiqhtLord Every bit helps)

The Terminus class warship “Gel’vana”, named after her captain of the same name, was the largest warship the Mogabi had ever constructed.

Outfitted with the latest technology, coupled with enough armaments to equal any single fleet, the ship was unlike anything the galaxy had seen set to sail amongst the void sea. The batteries of void cannons alone were capable of cracking tectonic plates like gingerbread.  

It didn’t take long for the intentions of such a ship to be made obvious as no sooner had it been launched from the orbital dockyards above the Mogabi homeworld did they declare war upon their galactic neighbor the Techno Autocracy.

The sentient machines held control over numerous mineral rich worlds that the Mogabi long since craved and so they dispatched the Gel’vana to drive the Autocracy out. Swarms of drones and carries were dispatched outnumbering the lone warship a ten thousand to one, yet the Gel’vana carved through them like a hot knife through butter. None of their weapons could pierce the warships shields as it unleashed devastating barrages against the mechanical adversaries.

By the conclusion of the Battle of Raxsus III the Autocracy had been crippled militarily and ceded control of the planets in question.

Emboldened by their victory, three months later the Mogabi declared war on their northern neighbors of the Tumani and Yulnucks. The pair had been locked in an ongoing border dispute for three years and the resulting conflicts had caused waves of disruption within the Mogabi trade network.

The pair was swiftly conquered by the Mogabi fleet with the Gel’vana leading the effort. Both fleets were swatted aside and their homeworlds conquered and instated as new vassal clients of the growing Mogabi empire.

This sad display of power played out again and again for the next ten years until to Mogabi controlled some twenty star systems, fifty worlds, and a dozen different client species serving their needs with resources and manpower. Their hubris was matched only by the fear they instilled when their enemies learned the Mogabi had dispatched the Gel’vana to their system. It was a sentiment that Mogabi felt with their soon to be latest acquisition.

A small empire of planets controlled by a species called “Humans”.

In short order the Gel’vana arrived in the human sol system and expected a fight. To their surprise they were met by a lone warship and a message of surrender.

To say the Mogabi were surprised would be an understatement. They had heard of the prowess of the human war machine and their spirit for conquest. Even with their previous victories the Mogabi were expecting a protracted war that could last decades and cost thousands if not millions of lives.

Human diplomats contacted the Gel’vana and expressed that they had no wish to see their people devastated by a long war. They were willing to negotiate with the Mogabi and give them favorable terms, even the possibility of limited subjugation, conditional on two terms.

1st: No human world would be subject to excessive occupation.

2nd: The human diplomats wished to sign the agreements onboard the Gel’vana as a sign of respect to both of powers.

The first the Mogabi could understand, but the second confused them.

Humans explained that while they were surrendering they still had a measure of pride to take into account. By signing the treaties onboard the Gel’vana they would show that it took the universes mightiest warship to bring them to heel.

Even with the explanation some of the Mogabi were still skeptical, but so drunk on their own supposed power the command staff ignored their suspicions and agreed to the terms.

Slowly the human ship approached the Gel’vana; the shadow of the Mogabi warship swallowing up the entire vessel like the maw of a great sea beast of old. A long lone docking tube extended outwards and latched on to the human ship and pulled it close as the Mogabi delegation gathered at the entry point ready in full military uniform.

As the tube finally stopped moving and the lights turned green, the entry door began sliding open slowly. When it finally slid fully open the Mogabi had just moment to register the tip of the Nova Warhead pointing right at them.

Before any of them could react the ignition triggered and the missile flew the length of the docking tube into the waiting Mogabi delegation, splattering several before colliding into the wall and detonating in a violent explosion.

While it was true that the Gel’vana was nearly impervious to exterior attacks, it was not designed to handle internal explosions. The detonation of the Nova warhead set off a series of secondary explosions in nearby ammo storage chambers which further added to the detonations until finally reaching the main reactor and setting off a critical overload.

In a single moment the deadliest warship the solar seas had ever seen was reduced to a momentary star of light and wreckage before being swallowed into the gravity well of Jupiter.

So assured in their own supremacy, the Mogabi failed to conduct even the most basic of scans of the human ship. Had they done so they would have seen that there was not a single soul on board, and quickly realized the ship was being remotely operated via a series of spy satellites floating throughout the Sol system. The destruction of the Gel’vana was recorded by one such satellite and then broadcast throughout the Mogabi Empire.

 Uprisings erupted throughout the entirety of their domain as their freshly conquered territories were all too eager to overthrow their oppressors; many of these rebellions aided by fresh contingents of human warships flooding in and engaging the scattered Mogabi forces.

Within six months the Mogabi Empire was no more and the human forces retreated back to their own domain. Many had expected the humans to become the new overlords, and it was a sentiment toyed with by some notable human leaders in flights of fancy; but that is all they were, flights of fancy. Their only interest had been in the complete and utter destruction of the Mogabi.

In their arrogance of sending a single warship to conquer humanity the Mogabi had done more harm to their cause then they could have ever imagined. They had wounded human pride at the insinuation that they were so frail and weak that they would cower beneath the gaze of one ship.

With their revenge carried out they were all too happy to leave the former vassals finish off what remained of the Mogabi; a vengeance they were all too happy to watch play out from afar.

[wolven91]

Skin Deep

The crit'yun are an ancient race.

Chitin instead of flesh, feather, scale, or fur. A mind that was vast enough to include all their kind, but also individual minds, all working towards a common goal broken up into hives then castes. They were like ants of old, but massive.

As for the hives, in the deepest, most protected parts of their worlds, there were pools of a biological soup that gave birth to new and needed bodies. There was no 'set' appearance to the crit'yun. If they needed pincers the most, then the creature that crawled from the ominous goop had pincers. If they needed size or bulk, the goop would recede as a titan lifted itself clear of the liquid, allowing it to cascade from it in great waterfalls as it stepped into the galaxy.

The crit'yun had been around since the various races that now dominated the galaxy had begun to crawl from their own primordial soups millennia ago. They watched the galaxy and recorded its comings and goings with a careful eye. Nothing was forgotten, everything was shared. Perhaps once the crit'yun had spread themselves across the galaxy, like a grand empire? But that wasn't the case now.

Their territory with a sliver that spanned several arms of the galaxy. They stayed there, watching and listening to the galaxy that appeared and grew now that they stayed dormant.

But the modern galaxy feared them, even before their most recent awakening.

Not just because they had perfected what was important to the current races, war and weapons, but because they were an antithesis to what was considered beautiful within the galaxy. Skittering. Twitching. Eyes that didn't look like eyes, or none at all, still watched without blinking. Legs and hands that were weapons.

They were judged on their first introduction. The crit'yun were aliens, even to the aliens.

When humanity appeared, it created an almost visible ripple amongst the insectoids. Something new. Something they hadn't seen. Something they hadn't recorded with their incredible minds. Something, that was dying.

Like a locust swarm amassing, the crit'yun, after thousands and thousands of years in isolation and refusal to engage with the wider galaxy; was suddenly abuzz with activity. The galaxy feared the crit'yun despite the diplomats they sent to assure the Galactic Community of their honourable intentions. They avoided crowded systems, sent only the most appealing of the crit'yun to parley when needed, but they were still shunned as dangerous, foreign things.

This was where Max came in.

Max had been in the 'care' of slavers. He was one of the lucky ones. He hadn't even been aware of their foul intentions. They had lied, placed him in comfortable quarters and began their journey towards a buyer before being found by the crit'yun.

"We are still sorry. That this. Was your first step. Sorry, that we, no... you... did not find... ally, friend, family." Chittered the creature. It was the size of a large dog, perhaps a Great Dane? It's red membrane wings flutters and twitched, but the numerous black dots, that Max had come to learn were its eyes, watched him carefully. Its speech pattern was strange, but it sat next to the human on a raised bench of resin that coated the inside of the crit'yun ship.

"It's alright. I should have known, I just didn't... think I suppose?" The human said with a sigh, gesturing with his hand before it fell back down against his knee.

"Absence. No. Lack of knowledge. Ignorance. Not worthy of fault. " Assured the creature as its head tilted one way and then the other.

The human smiled idly, more to the floor than to himself or a crit'yun. His hand, ever moving reach over without thought and rubbed a hand against the almost perfectly rounded head of the alien insect. Although there was no fur there, the distracted human merely felt calmer by the action. It reminded him of his own dog, Max missed him.

It was almost a whole minute before Max turned his head to the crit'yun and blinked, seemingly surprised that he was petting the insect and immediately withdrew his hand.

"I'm sorry! I didn't-" Blurted the human, holding his hands up in apologetic surrender.

"Why?" Asked the creature. It's perfectly round head turning, the beady black eyes rotating with it. It was a perfect impression of a puppy tilting its head.

"I wasn't thinking." Replied the human honestly, lowering his arms once more, paying attention to the creature.

"Ah. This one knows this. Nature. No... Natural action... To act by instinct. True Freedom. Fear no. Fear not. No offence made or received." Confirmed the alien, bobbing its head. Unbeknownst the Max, the instinctual drive it spoke of was its 'purpose'. Every crit'yun was born and made with a goal, a true purpose in life. The broodmother's was to birth and care for their young and vulnerable. The guards was to defend and destroy threats. To this drone? It was to reapply the resin to the ceilings of the crit'yun craft.

Since the human had shown preference to it, it had already been replaced, its purpose was now to stay by the human and ensure it wanted for nothing until the broodmother's craft arrived.

Max gave a smirk as this giant insect spoke in such an odd way, struggling to find the correct words, all the while he had accidently just treated it like a favoured pet. His brow furrowed as he thought about it though.

"How come the translators don't work for you?" The man asked curiously. He was aware that translators normally just adjusted any word heard for the word the speaker meant, in the listener's language. It shouldn't have been hiccupping over the insect's words.

"They do." Replied the creature smartly.

"But you mix up your words?" Pointed out Max.

"Ah. Translators fine. It is mind that is... limited." The insect explained, bobbing on all six legs.

"Mind?" Max was only more confused now.

"Yes. This one. Crit'yun you see with your eyes. Is only drone. Mind limited. In time... We will present acceptable crit'yun to you." The drone explained, speaking the words the broodmother sent through the hive's mind. It was a delicate thing, to speak through a drone, but doable. They didn't normally have the drive to talk or even need to. It was pure luck that this done was a talkative one, often humming to itself as it happily worked. The broodmother could only whisper simple concepts and the drone would repeat them as best it could.

"What does that mean?" Enquired the human. The crit'yun was pleased with the new specie's curiosity but feared that this was the moment they would lose this creature's trust. The crit'yun knew what they looked like, and the diplomat form could only look so much like them before it caused distress.

"We hide. Will hide. What makes us. Robes will hide chitin. Our eyes will be only... One... Two..." Counted the drone, repeating the broodmother's words. Her signal was getting stronger, straining the creature's mind.

"You don't have to change for me you know? I don't mind." Promised the young man.

"You... flinch." Pointed out the drone.

"I'm not going to lie, its intimidating, being surrounded by bugs, but I bet I don't look great to you."

"Clicks for this one. True. Truth is spoken. Very well. When this drone... is returned to the hive. Hive will not attempt... much... to hide selves..." Promised the drone, settling down onto its folded limbs. Tired now.

"Good. I was always told be proud of who you are. And you guys saved my life, so in my book you're alright."

"We wish to record your book. Please present it." Asked the drone, it's mind growing tired now that the broodmother had relinquished her hold on its mind. She was on the ship now. The idea the drone could record new history and present it to the broodmother? As it slipped from the waking world, if it could smile; it would have.

"Oh. Uuhh..." The human said, unaware he was the only one present now.

[r/WolvensStories]

[AO3]

[Ko-Fi]

[littledarknesgold]

Mortarion x girlfriend reader When the other villagers saw him as a stranger, she saw him as a man who just wanted to be loved. During a great crusade across the galaxy, on the Death Guard's flagship, Mortarion marries and feels happy for the first time in a long time. Typhus kidnaps Y/N and forces her to enter the service of the god Nurgle under threat of Mortarion's death. Nurgle takes a liking to her and makes her a princess of decay. After centuries in Nurgle's garden, she meets Mortarion and explains everything to him. They both hate their forms, but they have no choice but to suffer forever.

🥸🫶

What is sorrow to the living is joy to the dead.

Warnings: mention of rot and insects, mention of loss, soft yandere.

You were different.

Mortarion knew it from the start, when you spoke to him without fear back on Barbarus. To others there he was as much a monster as his foster father, but not to you.

And when the time came to join the Emperor's Great Crusade, you stepped into the stars as fearlessly as you did that day, stepping out to meet him.

At first, everything was a bit complicated between you, but then it became easier, you got used to each other, liked each other, and then got married. Realized that you can't live without each other.

The Primarch of the 14th Legion never thought he would be ready for such great responsibility, nor did he think he deserved your affection, but you have calmed his troubled soul.

Your souls merged in a sacred marriage, becoming one and it seemed that nothing could separate you, but then the Horus Heresy came, and then, as if that weren't enough, Grandfather Nurgle. But you were together, so it wasn't all that bad, right?

No. Even you were taken from him, his ungrateful son Typhus stole you. That little bastard...

The Swarm Lord hid you in the Gardens of Nurgle, where Grandfather blessed you (or cursed you?) generously.

Mortarion's existence became a torment, not only because of his hideous new appearance, but also because he did not know what had happened to you or where you were. His soul was torn and torn in a fever.

His only source of joy, love and comfort was taken away from him and the Prince of Decay had nothing left to cling to. Until you were reunited again, though now you were more like a larva or caterpillar.

Burying his face in your gelatinous flesh, he realized the rotten tears.

You were together again and he made a promise to himself to get you both out at any cost, even if it was just a lie and you both were stuck here forever.

[idungoofed]

Lol hi, I haven’t been here in forever, but I’ve been writing things again. So here’s something that my sleep deprived brain has come out with tonight. An excerpt of a fic I’m hoping (and I say this so loosely) to try and write that’s set after Din leaves Grogu with Luke Skywalker, and basically tries to run away from his problems and ends up on Earth during covid and finds my OC, Cate, a chronically online, lonely, thirty-something year old. It’s fairly early on so feelings are being felt but because they are both idiots no one’s gonna admit their to them any time soon. Super self indulgent, first person, unedited or proof read, and not gonna lie, this character is basically me, so take it or leave it I guess ❤️

____________

Over the next few days Din and I got into an easy morning routine of me waking up and going down stairs to sleepily wander into the kitchen to turn the kettle on, while he leaves the crest and wanders down from the clearing, due any minute through the stable door I’d opened the top of to let the morning summer sun warm me as I made our coffees; Dins black, mine strong but milky with a half spoon of sugar.

The teaspoon clinks in Dins mug as I stir- I gave him the duck one today where the head protruded out the side and acted as the handle. I live for ugly tea cups and coffee mugs and secretly enjoy watching the blank expression of Dins helmet inspect the weirdest ones I have in my collection when I give them to him, wondering what expression plays across his face. I’ve decided against the penis mug so far.

A shadow falls across my body as Din appears at the door, blocking out the sun, and I think of stomping on the butterflies that have swarmed my stomach before I’d even looked up.

I don’t know when exactly it started happening, when I realised that the feeling of easy companionship started to be something more. It seemed if anything my body knew before I did, inwardly cringing at the obvious full body shudder than had run through me when Din steadied me with a hand to my waist when I’d lost my footing on the streams stepping-stones the other day.

I grab our coffees and turn towards him. I needed to get myself under control, there’s no way a bounty hunter who adventured through galaxies would be interested in someone like me, and the extremely boring life I was currently living, but as my eyes honed in to the black visor of his helmet my breath caught in my throat.

The golden morning glow of the sun beamed off the back of his helmet and armour, illuminating him as if he just walked out of some kind of heavenly light.

I smile at him as he unlatched the lower door and walked in, his presence dominating the small space.

“Morning.” I say, slightly too breathily, holding out the duck mug to him.

“Good morning, Cate. Thank you, but you don’t have to make-“ Din stops as he notices what I’ve served his coffee in today.

He takes the mug holding it up to look at, and I try hide my smirk at the ridiculousness of this tall, broad, armour covered man holding and having to drink out of something so dumb.

Din finishes his observation and holds the handle-head up in a cheers. “This is the best one so far.”

I guffaw and smile, shaking my head. “I’m glad you like it.” I look up at him as he holds the mug, not realising I’m basically staring at him with a dopey smile on my face at this point.

Din shifts his weight, breaking the spell he’s unwittingly out over me.

“Oh! Sorry!” My face heats as I realise what I was doing, “I’ll just be out side.” I say, looking away, I awkwardly skirt around him and out the door, slipping back into our routine where I leave him to sit in the sun outside, so he can drink his caffeine fix without fear of me seeing him without his helmet.

Din watches me go, gripping the absurd handle of the mug, wishing I could sit with him and continue looking at him in the way I was. In adoration, as if he was someone special, someone who deserved to be looked at like that.

He’d started to feel the magnetic pull between you both too, but couldn’t see how it could ever be more than one sided. How could someone so sweet, kind, and who lived a quiet life so many worlds different to his own ever want to be with someone like him?

——————

Thanks for reading❤️

Will there be more?!!?! I don’t know, I hope so, but either way I hope you liked it. I did start to write a fic a few years ago where Din comes to earth but it just wasn’t working, I have no idea if it’s even still up because lawd knows I thought about deleting it enough times, but this one feels better, more me.

[ronqueesha]

Let's yap about the Catachan jungle fighters!

My rogue trader mutuals might recognize one of the player backgrounds as death world. It's a background that gives various buffs to survival-style abilities and a bonus to strength and melee combat.

That is 100% based on Catachan. The galaxy is full of death worlds, but Catachan is THE death world.

The planet was colonized by humanity many thousands of years ago, long before the formation of the Imperium during the dark age of technology. The first settlers crash landed upon making contact with the planet's extremely harsh atmosphere. Even more died after the landing, killed by vicious animal life, carnivorous plant life, and more natural horrors than I can describe in a tumblr post.

Literally everything on Catachan wants to kill you. Nothing is safe. Even the air can be dangerous if you disturb a spore tree that releases a cloud of spores that are so thick, they choke a person to death in moments. Brainleafs can take over a person's mind and slowly devour them from the inside out. Stranglevines grow in the shadows and pounce at anything that moves, tangling them in glue that is impossible to escape.

Swarms of blood wasps eat their prey alive in hours. Vein worms numb the skin of their victims before digging into their flesh and laying their eggs in their bloodstream. And the famous Catachan Devils are gigantic and voracious scorpion-like predators that are nearly impossible to take down.

Disease is a constant companion of the entire population, and many natives consider disease a bigger threat than everything listed above combined. Even the water is dangerous to drink because of all the dangerous microbes that aggressively spread.

Somehow, the surviving initial colonists managed to survive all of this. And over thousands of years, a society based on extreme survival, constant and brutal fighting, and living in homes that are ultimately temporary before being reclaimed by nature formed. Children learn to shoot before they can walk, and are deadly fighters by the time most other children begin basic education.

The natives of Catachan in the 42nd millennium are the descendants of people who managed to survive the worst conditions in the galaxy. And then passed those extraordinary genes to the next generation. The people of Catachan are generally taller, more muscular, and faster than the average human. They are approaching abhuman status in their physical capabilities, though they are still shorter and slightly less powerful than ogryn and space marines.

Catachan fighters are some of the most respected and feared members of the Imperial Guard, often tasked with the most brutal fighting on the worst planets. They have a sarcastic wit, and can grow annoyed with "soft" people and assignments that don't properly challenge them.

When the galaxy was cut in half by the great rift, Catachan was swarmed by a massive demonic invasion. By the time Guilliman's crusade arrived to offer aid, they saw that the planet had already saved itself.

Also they famously only had this single line of miniatures for the LONGEST time, even as all of the other factions and sub-factions in the game got substantial upgrades to their mini lines.

You may have noticed that everything about Catachan is a huge reference/parody of big muscled 1980s action heroes, in particular the first Predator movie. The most famous Catachan character is named Sly Marbo, who is a clear Rambo parody.

[shepcdr]

there is something so so so sexy about the reapers. beings that exist to extinguish organic life, but only towards a certain purpose. beings that exist beyond the scope of your comprehension, created by the unfathomable apex predators of the galaxy (predators that could topple any empire and rule over entire civilisations with a single thought!! on a little whim!!). the apex predators, their own creators, that they vanquished and pushed into near-extinction, all for the purpose for which they were created. beings that technically exist to fulfil that purpose and, guided by an artificial intelligence whose entire existence has structured itself around the unending experiment of organic-synthetic cohabitation, still inherited the smugness and pride of their creators. beings that span thousands and thousands of cycles, infinite beginnings and ends, who store the genetic memories of hundreds and thousands of civilisations from their incarnation to their deaths at the reapers' hands(? tentacle.. claw... thingies?). who have never known what it is to have their existence threatened. shit-talking a human being that is nothing more than a microbe to them. because they can.

anyway a while ago i made them a pinterest board (to be avoided if you have trypophobia, or fear of clusters/swarms of eyes, or of art that mimics imagery of blood/gore) because i love them. my terrible biblical, cephalopodic, organic-made children of the galaxy

[jonnysinsectcatalogue]

Eastern Yellowjacket - Vespula maculifrons 

Talk about a blast from the past with these images! In this blog's earlier days, video posts were uploaded to the blog that showcased these hungry Wasps who were dining on freshly caught insect meat. At the time, I was quite happy to feature these examples of insect behavior, but something was brought to my attention as a result of those video being uploaded to YouTube. A helpful watcher left a comment inquiring as to what exactly the Wasp was eating and that a better angle would help. They were absolutely correct! While I had no further videos to share from that day, I did have these images. And so, I hope these pictures can provide a better view of the Wasps' feast on the carcass of a freshly molted Dog-Day Cicada. The head was missing, leading me to believe that the Cicada was decapitated from above, near its exuvia, leading to the head and body landing in two different locations. Genuinely, it was the perfect time to strike since the freshly molted imago hadn't had time to sclerotize and solidify itself. Cicada landed on its back, causing the legs (the ones that haven't yet been harvested) to point up or to the side.

The primary feeding documented in these pictures is the carving up of thorax's innards and biting of the exposed abdomen as the Eastern Yellowjackets dive in for a bite! The Cicada's 4 wings - which weren't even given the change to unfold and inflate - appear in their wavy forms with a faded white-to-green color accentuated by the deep-green of the wing's primary vein. It sounds cruel, but this is the way of things, and Wasps need to nourish their nest's larvae so that they in turn are nourished. Although many Vespula Wasps are often feared due to their ability to painfully bite and sting, their persistence, their attraction to humans (and their food), and their warning stripes (of course), it's always worth remembering that these insects have an important part to play within their ecosystem beyond annoying humans out in the wilderness and stinging for seemingly no reason. The many Yellowjackets of North America are experts at managing pest insect populations to feed the larvae within their nest. Furthermore, they provide valuable assistance as generalist flower pollinators alongside other flying insects. The problems come in when their aggression or feeding instincts surge into overdrive as a result of a nest defense or the seasons changing. Even I'm afraid of Yellowjackets and their propensity to swarm, but that more I learn about them, the less there is to fear. Having that said, it can be absolutely maddening to accidentally stumble on a ground nest and face the wrath of the colony!

Pictures were taken on July 29, 2018 with a Samsung Galaxy S4. And of course, as the striped workers take what they can carry for the nest, numerous Pavement Ants arrive to collect their fill too. Although many times smaller than this Wasp specie, a Yellowjacket would do well to avoid Pavement Ants given how suddenly they can climb, swarm and pinch apart matter with their mandibles!

[luv-lock]

Omfg just read your mark x alien girl reader and I’m obsessed and I’m in love😩😩my question is tho how would alien reader react if she ever found out eve was trying to get with mark? Would mark go out with eve just to save face n show ppl he’s not in love with some crazy alien chick? Would reader lose her mind? I need answersssss 🙇🏾‍��️

No, she wouldn’t lose her mind. That implies she has something fragile to break in the first place. She isn’t human. She doesn’t love. She doesn’t grieve. She doesn’t even understand the concept of monogamy, jealousy, or emotional attachment in the way humans do. Mark is hers, yes—but not in the sense that she would weep if he strayed. He belongs to her in the same way a favorite meal belongs to a starving beast.

And let’s get something straight—she isn’t some cute, misunderstood alien girl fumbling through human emotions. She isn’t an affectionate, starry-eyed creature desperate for his love. And it’s not like she’s some naive virgin who’s fallen in love with Mark. She’s a dictator. A war criminal. A predator that has seen entire species rise and fall beneath her rule.

She is old. Really, really old. billions of years old. having evolved long before humanity even crawled out of the primordial soup. The Qu described as a nomadic, galaxy-spanning civilization with a godlike mastery of genetic engineering and nanotechnology. Maybe she's the last of her kind. Or maybe she simply left them behind, the way one discards a broken tool. Either way, it doesn’t matter. The universe has long whispered myths of the Qu, painting them as monsters in the dark, as something that should not be. But she doesn’t care about history or legacies. She doesn’t even care about the fear she inspires. She only cares about what pleases her in the moment.

And right now, that’s Mark.

No one knows where the Qu came from. No homeworld. No records. No evolutionary path that makes sense. Some say they are older than the galaxies themselves, remnants of something much worse, something forgotten. Others say they are proof that gods are real—and that they are cruel.

They do not build. They do not create. They do not leave ruins behind. The Qu are nomadic by nature, descending upon civilizations like parasites, taking what they want, and leaving only silence in their wake. They don't have a culture, history or moral. They don't care about fame, power, respect or fear. Think of them as cosmic gardeners, except their idea of gardening involves reshaping entire species into grotesque forms for their own purposes. They also have an aquatic larval stage in their life cycle, hinting at origins on a watery world, though their home planet (possibly called "Puwan-2" in ancient records) is a mystery.

Their society is a nightmare. A hive structure ruled by a single female, the queen, who is infinitely more powerful than the mindless, disposable males that serve her. Male Qu exist only to fight, kill, and die in her name. They are born knowing their place, existing only to be used, discarded, and eventually devoured. A queen will birth hundreds at a time, a swarm of violent, hungry creatures that live only to serve her. And when they are no longer useful? She eats them. Their bodies nourish her, strengthen her, sustain her.

They are obligate carnivores, meaning that while they can eat other things, only meat actually satisfies their hunger. And not just any meat—Qu queens eat their own males. Cannibalism is a normal part of their lifecycle.

The Qu’s defining trait is their obsession with remaking the universe according to their own inscrutable dogma. They travel from galaxy to galaxy, finding intelligent species and altering them—sometimes stripping away sapience, sometimes twisting them into bizarre, nightmarish forms. They don’t just conquer; they remake. When they encounter another species, they see a rival species daring to be more than animals and being intelligence and powerful—something the Qu consider their divine right. So, they get pissed.

The Qu invade the Star People’s galactic empire, which spans an entire arm of the Milky Way. The Star People are no slouches—they’ve got weapons that can blow up stars—but the Qu’s tech is on another level. They crush them in less than a thousand years, colonize every habitable world, and start experimenting. They transform Star People into countless new forms: some become mindless worms, others living tools, and a few are turned into tortured, sentient monstrosities as punishment for resistance. The Qu rule the galaxy for 40 million years, leaving behind massive, featureless pyramids (their weird architecture of choice) before eventually moving on to mess with other parts of the universe.

A queen is immortal. Or close to it. Time does not wither her. Age does not dull her. The only thing that can truly kill her is another queen, a clone of herself—a perfect copy birthed through self-fertilization, as some Earth reptiles do. But this is rare. Queens are narcissists. They see themselves as gods, as divine, as the peak of evolution. Creating another like themselves is… distasteful. And so they rarely do.

The result? A species with no future. A species destined to burn itself out. And maybe that’s what happened. Maybe that’s why she’s the last one. Or maybe… she simply got bored and left the others behind. Who knows?

The Qu’s motivations are tied to their ideology, which people describes as a kind of religious zeal. They believe they’re the rightful masters of the universe, tasked with remaking it in their image. This dogma started as a way to control their own power (possibly to avoid self-destruction), but over eons, it warped into blind fanaticism. They see other sapient beings as raw material—either to be reshaped into “useful” forms or punished for daring to rival the Qu’s mastery.

There’s a sadistic streak in them too. They don’t just alter species for utility; they do it to assert dominance. Species who resist them, like the ones dubbed “Colonials,” are turned into forms designed to suffer eternally. It’s not about hatred—it’s about control. They’re so far removed from empathy that they don’t even see other species as deserving moral consideration.

After 40 million years of domination, the Qu leave the Milky Way, presumably to screw with other galaxies. Their absence lets the post-species evolve—some into new intelligent species, others into extinction. Fast-forward 500 million years, these who hated them and were destroyed by them band together with other galactic civilizations to hunt down the Qu. They finally defeat them in a massive, offscreen conflict. It's not clear if the Qu are wiped out or just subjugated, but their reign of terror ends.

To say she loves Mark would be incorrect. Love is a human thing. Love is fragile and sentimental and full of limitations. But she does want him. And that’s far worse.

She is possessive of Mark—not because she sees him as an equal, not because she fears losing him, but because he belongs to her. She has decided this. And that means no one else can have him. Not because she’s jealous—jealousy requires emotional attachment—but because she does not share her things.

And she is incredibly affectionate with him. Why? Because she wants him to fuck her.

Mark isn’t just an amusing pet—he’s a potential mate. The first she has considered in… well, maybe ever. She is starving for physical pleasure, for something that isn’t just mindless obedience. The males of her species were drones—barely sentient, incapable of giving her any real satisfaction. Mark, on the other hand, is different. He has free will. He has fight in him. He is defiant, loud, emotional.

And that thrills her.

She enjoys licking and biting him not as an act of affection, but because she is genuinely considering eating him. Not metaphorically. Not playfully. Literally. She wonders how he would taste. If he would scream. If he would beg. The idea excites her. Not because she wants him dead—but because she could. Because he is fragile. Because his life is a flickering flame, and she could snuff it out on a whim. And yet… she hasn’t.

Because she likes him as he is.

He amuses her. He resists her. And that is something no one else has ever done.

Let’s say Mark did start seeing Eve. Or Amber. Or anyone, really.

Would she cry? No. Would she be heartbroken? No. Would she beg him to come back to her? Absolutely not.

She simply wouldn’t understand. She doesn’t grasp the concept of emotional exclusivity. The idea of Mark choosing someone else is ridiculous to her—because what does choice have to do with anything? She already decided he was hers. That should be the end of it. To her, Mark is an entertaining little pet—noisy, interesting, and fun to mess with. But at the end of the day, if she really wanted to, she could turn him into a mindless thrall who obeys her every whim. She just doesn’t, because what’s the fun in that? She enjoys him as he is.

And no, she’s not crazy or stupid. The reason she doesn’t speak other species’ languages isn’t because she can’t—it’s because she doesn’t care. She sees herself as a god. Why would a god bother to learn the language of ants? She doesn’t need their approval, and she certainly doesn’t care what they think of her.

Does she care if he likes Eve? No. Not emotionally. Not in the way a human woman would. But if she wants Mark, then that means Eve is an obstacle—and obstacles get removed. Easily. Effortlessly. Without a second thought. Mark isn’t in love with her? That’s fine. He doesn’t need to be. She doesn’t require his love. She requires his body, his attention, his submission.

And if she ever did get bored? If she ever decided he was no longer entertaining? Well… there’s always the option of eating him.

[macgyvertape]

my attempt at "Wow Cool Robot" meme as an attempt to get people to read Kasrkin Minor Spoilers below:

I really enjoyed the book, I think the Imperial Guard and Kroot parts are interesting even if you aren't super interested in their faction. It has good plotline of pulp action where enemies team up against a common foe, which in this case are the Flayed Ones necrons. What surprised me is one of the characters' speech about how the Imperium runs on fear, since so few characters express sentiments like this in universe, and though he has ulterior motives for saying this the text doesn't imply he's wrong:

‘You do not need me to tell you that the Imperium is brutal, unjust, frequently corrupt and that it gives no more thought to expending the lives of its people than a tyranid swarm seeks to preserve its warriors. But all of that is accepted because the alternative is worse. Fear is what binds the Imperium together. Without fear, everything – everything – would fall apart. The worlds that pay, in men and money and material, to keep the Imperium functioning, would decide to keep their children and their goods for themselves. The blood of empire is money and trade – Holy Terra is one vast city that depends on how many thousands of ships arriving each day from all over the Imperium to keep its people fed. The same is true of all the key worlds in every sector – they suck other worlds dry to feed themselves. ‘All of this is made possible by fear. Even now, with the galaxy split, most worlds do not even know it has happened. It will be thousands of years before the light of the Rift reaches them. But the High Lords of Terra will use this, as they use everything else, to feed the fear and cement their control.’ This time the general’s laugh was bitter. ‘And you know what is worse? It is men like you and I, honest men trying to do our duty, who are the best tools in their hands. For we do see the real terrors that exist, and we justify their rule wherever we go, and ensure that the fear spreads ever wider and their control becomes ever deeper. ‘We live in a galaxy where all we hear our leaders speak of is war and yet where most people live in peace. We live in a galaxy where fear is the only reality that confronts us, and yet most people will live their days and never see one of the Adeptus Astartes."

My favorite parts and the reason I read the book were for the necron characters; Nebusemekh and the World Mind who are literary foils to Zahndrekh and Obyron.

Nebusemekh suffers from what can easily be read as dementia; not remembering conversations, living in a past happy memory, not able to accurately perceive the world around him. As author Nate Crowley described Zhandrekh "Zahndrekh comes and goes, too. Yes, there is the moment at the end where he reveals that his condition may not be entirely what it seems - but I think that for long stretches of time, it truly is what it appears to be". What Nebusemekh does is similar complete with a few moments of lucidity where he misses his past self, but unlike Zahndrekh he is not able to focus on military tactics. I think there's a lot to unpack about how much he uses his sand castle in the sky project as a way to avoid facing reality but that is for a different post.

Where the World Mind contrasts Obyron is that Obyron obeys orders, while the World Mind sees itself as something akin to a medical conservatorship. It grieves for Nebusemekh's current state but will make decisions that go against Nebusemekh's wishes out of a desire to both protect Nebusemekh from his own memories and to carry out his past military plans to from when he was in sound mind. It's some of the boldest defiance I've seen from a Necron to their lord, he will mislead and unsubtlelly redirect the conversation to progress his goals of awakening the tomb but when pressed he brazenly admits to disabling Nebusemekh's personal weapons.

[mysticstarlightduck]

For the Q&A tag game, you mentioned there are minerals/natural substances available in the environment that characters use to dye their hair. Any other cool bits of lore about alien planet/moon geology and biology you want to share? Does the story mainly stay in that one location, or do the characters visit multiple different planets with different worldbuilding lore for each location?

Thanks for the ask, @diabolical-blue!

And yes!!! On Cethea III there's a naturally occurring mineral that's pretty much everywhere and thus is a free/cheap way for the inhabitants of the moon to dye their hair if they so wish to - that mineral, known as Azurellite, can be easily ground up with water and makes for a pretty potent and long-lasting hair dye. Depending on the hue of the rock the hair can turn a specific shade, ranging from pastel blue to deep purple or indigo blue. While the 3 main protagonists were growing up as street urchins on that moon, Cassie Tithus often dyed her hair bright blue using that specific mineral - which, since it was basically everywhere, was a free dye they didn't have to spend their precious units to buy or prepare (they wouldn't have been able to afford it if it was otherwise).

Onto the other parts of this question!

Cool facts about the geology of the main planets within this series!

The planet of Ivion, which the moon Cethea III orbits, is a large ice giant planet, where there are little changes in weather during its seasons, being basically a massive tundra. The planet was originally inhabited by the Zatrian people, who built their sprawling cities out of pitch-black stone within the underground of the planet, underneath the unforgiving layers of ice and snow. The Junction has long since established a colony on the planet, and has subjugated/colonized many of the Zatrian settlements, and those who do not submit to Junction rule are unfortunately made targets of raiders and slavers alike. This complicated relationship between the settlers and the original inhabitants of the planet is the reason why Deimos Soll, the main duo's adoptive brother, ended up kidnapped from his home by slavers sent by the Junction in the first place.

In the Khosmonian Galaxies, the planet of Thalassen is a gargantuan planet that hosts some of the largest and deepest oceans in any of the known galaxies. It is known for equally gigantic creatures that lurk in its endless depths, literal behemoths that defy logic and strike fear into the hearts of outsiders and even some locals alike. The people of Thalassen are known for being some of the most technological advanced people in either of the galaxy clusters, with their cities being built both within floating mountains above the sprawling oceans and in underwater caves. Lyorna Alyrii, Jack Tithus' eventual love interest, is the daughter of an ancient and important family from Thalassen. The giant planet also has beautiful, equally gigantic, rings that surround its orbit, like a much larger, inhabitable version of our Saturn.

Stryxus, a dwarf planet on the edge of an asteroid ring that lies on the outer rim of the main Khosmonian Galaxy, is covered in lush, sprawling tropical fungal forests, where largely harmless gigantic fungi and mushrooms take the place of regular trees and reach the heights of skyscrapers. The planet is known for being home to some of the most powerful and ruthless crime families in the Khosmonian Galaxies and it is infamous for both its many underground racing rings and its renowned Fighting Pit, where outsiders and those whom the crime families do not approve of often are forced to fight to the death. Stryxus is surrounded by many space stations, all owned by local warlords, crimelords and space pirates, like a gigantic, living satellite.

Close by to Stryxus there's a gas giant surrounded by many moons, one of which is a frozen desert plagued by sleet storms, swarms of ravenous, bloodthirsty creatures that attack in hordes, and where a strange, electromagnetic pulse causes many spaceships to crash and harm communications with the outside. It's a metaphorical "black hole", in the sense that while it is an inhabitable planet it is incredibly tough to get out of, for both humanoids and machinery alike, and thus remains unclaimed by both the Junction, the Khosmonians, and even the warlords. While fleeing from Stryxus and being pursued by a bunch of vengeful space pirates, Kye and Artemis crash on this hellhole of a moon in the space shuttle they'd used to escape and must begrudgingly find a way to get past their differences to survive and find a way to get out of this planet to reunite with the rest of their team, though they soon find they're not the only ones "shipwrecked" on this moon, and that this other person also trapped in here may make things even more perilous for them.

Thypsiell, the planet where Kye was born, has chalk-white trees with blood-red leaves, and large prairies with sprawling, windswept hills. The grass ranges from salmon pink to orange and even light blue in some spots. The Khylet people are a highly meritocratic society with a harsh system of castes - most tribes are also ruled by a matriarchal council. Kye's mother became such a bitter woman because she was shunned by her own mother, her mentor and the elder of the main Khylet council of chieftains, who considered Eldora too unstable and cruel to create a proper legacy - offended at the slight of being "denied her dues" by the mother she adored so much, Eldora set out to collect conquests and become the most dangerous Khylet warlord that ever lived, seeking to one day gain her mother's approval and a seat a the Hearth (their council), unaware that she was only proving her mother right and disrespecting their people's ancient traditions by indulging her warmongering ways.

And onto the final art of this question!

Supernova Initiative does not take place in one singular location and instead takes place in multiple locations as the characters travel the galaxies during their multiple quests in the story - starting at the moon of Cethea III (in Jack, Deimos, and Cassie's backstory), then proceeding to many locations within the Junction systems, secret laboratories where inhuman experiments take place, wartorn planetary systems and various planets in the Khosmonian galaxies as the characters travel to complete the most dangerous heist of their lives and get their freedoms back, and their adventure suddenly takes many, unexpected, turns throughout the book!

Supernova Initiative Taglist (-/+): @ray-writes-n-shit, @sarandipitywrites, @lassiesandiego, @smol-feralgremlin, @kaylinalexanderbooks,

@saturnine-saturneight @diabolical-blue @oh-no-another-idea

@cakeinthevoid, @clairelsonao3, @sleepy-night-child

@thepeculiarbird

@the-golden-comet, @urnumber1star

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[helix-enterprises117]

Halo Reloaded: "I Trust You"

The UNSC medical bay, usually buzzing with the clinical efficiency of its staff, was unusually quiet. John stood out like a sore thumb amidst the pristine environment. Clad in sterile blues rather than his intimidating Mjolnir armor, he looked almost... human. A surgical mask covered half his face, but his eyes were a dead giveaway — a storm brewed behind them.

Linda, the reason for this storm, lay on the table before him. She was wounded during a recon mission gone sideways, and now here they were, in a situation neither of them was trained for. John with surgical tools in hand was a sight no Spartan could have predicted.

As he looked over Linda, his hands hovered hesitantly above her. The tools felt alien, too light compared to the comforting heft of a battle rifle. He could take on a legion of Covenant without a second thought, but this? This was uncharted territory.

Linda caught his hesitation, her voice cutting through the silence, rough but reassuring, “Hey, it's not like you're throwing a frag. You got this.”

John couldn't help but chuckle, the sound muffled by the mask. “Yeah, because surgery and grenades are so similar,” he quipped, the tension easing from his shoulders.

“Just... try not to blow anything up, okay?” Linda's attempt at humor was tinged with the strain of pain.

“I’ll do my best. But you know, I'm not exactly a medic,” John admitted, the seriousness returning to his tone.

Linda’s response was a soft, yet firm, “I trust you. More than anyone else in this galaxy.”

Those words, simple and honest, acted as the catalyst John needed. He nodded, a silent promise passing between them, and turned his focus to the task at hand.The surgery started, with John's movements cautious but deliberate. His reputation as a man of few words held true, yet each glance he shared with Linda spoke volumes. They communicated in the silent language of long-time comrades — a raised eyebrow here, a half-smile there.

Every so often, Linda would grimace, and John would mutter a low, “Sorry,” to which Linda would roll her eyes, a silent 'what did you expect?' hanging in the air.

“John,” Linda broke the silence at one point, her voice laced with feigned exasperation, “if you apologize one more time, I swear I'll kick your ass when I'm up.”

“That’s fair,” John replied, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement. “Just trying to make sure I don’t give you a reason to.”As he worked, John found himself falling into a rhythm, the initial fear of causing harm giving way to a steadfast determination. Linda's unwavering trust in him was a beacon, guiding him through the murky waters of doubt and fear.

Finally, as he placed the last suture, a wave of relief washed over him. He stepped back, allowing the medical team to swarm in and take over. Linda, still drowsy from the anesthesia, managed a weak but victorious smile, her eyes locking with John's.

“You didn’t blow me up,” she murmured, the hint of a tease in her voice.“Guess I’m better at this than I thought,” John responded, the relief palpable in his voice. As the medical team bustled around, prepping Linda for recovery, John lingered a moment longer, his gaze softening. This mission had taken them both out of their element, but they had come through, as they always did — together.

@jellotherelol