#the xeno in Alien is a character of its own and the ones in Aliens are just a force of their own. if that makes sense?

[skitskatdacat63]

It's so impressive to me how Alien and Aliens are both really good horror movies that are equally incredibly tense/scary, but in practically the exact opposite ways. And ah man they really both hold up so well for being pretty old movies 🥺

[yaut-jaknowit]

Y'know what? I think it'd be funny as hell if a human farmer (y/n) befriended a xenomorph. And it acts like a cute, drooling, ..alien dog. And their male Yautja parter tolerates the Xeno while in front or near his human mate. But when y/n disappears. They both are just at each other's throats?

If that's okay, also I love your writing! And I cannot wait to see more! And I hope you have a lovely day/night

Lost Dog

Character: Con'tei (Male Yautja) x GN!Reader with Xeno

Word Count: 1784

Summary: As a farmer on a planet not many know, you live your life contently. Waking up early to go out into the fields and work. It's just yourself and your mate, Con'tei. Until a special alien shows up and worms its way into your soft heart instantly.

Author Note: This is such a funny idea.

Masterlist

Ao3

Ever since that day you stumbled upon an injured Xenomorph, it’s been attached to your hip. Since that same day, Con’tei has wanted nothing more than to tear the alien apart. No matter how many times you asked him to at least be civil with the thing. The Yautja has his own thoughts of the Xenomorph. That being having its head upon his wall. Specifically above the bed. Its nonexistent, lifeless eyes peering down at you. Con’tei was sure to let you of every detail to paint a picture inside of your mind. Every time.

When the Xeno looked up at you, guts nearly splattered across the edge of your corn field, you had fallen. Though it has no eyes, you felt compelled to help it back to your dwelling. Con’tei had been off on a hunt and left you enough time to patch up the creature. Until the Yautja returned and smelled the scent of a hard meat on the property. It took lots of sweet talking to get the male to calm down and listening to your voice.

Finally, Con’tei was able to think clearly after he saw you were okay. No injuries. No smell of blood. Not even fear in the air. The Yautja was more than confused on the what, why, and how. That only grew worse when he only had to take step to the side.

There in the bath tub of the dwelling sat the observing hard meat, just peering at him. You physically had to wrap your arms around Con’tei’s thin waist and pull the newly blooded away.

Worst of all, the xeno morph lept out of the tub when it saw the struggle. Its instincts flaring to life. It thought you were fighting the enemy and rushed out to help. Water dripped down its black, scared hide. Sharp silver teeth were bared at Con’tei. Its long, black tail whipped side to side.

A yelp slipped from your lips. Con’tei pushed you off of him a bit too harsh and lunged at the creature. You fell down to the ground and landed wrong on your wrist.

The two clash for a second when your sharp cry sounded an alarm. Each held onto the other, ready to draw blood. They whipped their heads over to your lying, prone form. One pushed at the other and nearly climbed over each other.

Con’tei reaches you first and kneels down at your side. But, he’s shoved off to the side by a black, skeleton hand. A deep bellow tumbled out of his chest as he reared back up to kill the hard meat somehow in your shared home.

It’s your crying that breaks the two of them up again. They separate once more to rush to your aid. For the moment, they were able to ignore the other. Con’tei’s dark orange hands touches at your hands. One was pinned to your chest by the other. Pain radiating from one. A deep purr vibrated from the Yautja in a comforting manner. His bright yellow eyes scanned over the rest of you. The only thing that was of concern was the wrist you were clutching onto.

Across from you, the xenomorph was whining and nudging its elongated head against your cheek. The move didn’t go unnoticed by Con’tei who snarled and scooped you away from the creature. This nearly became a tug-of-war match until you shouted, “stop it!” Each alien stilled.

“Stop fighting, please! I’m in pain and you’re only making it worse.” Con’tei whimpered and bowed his head in a manner that resembled a kicked puppy. “And you’re not making it any better by flailing around.” The xeno lowered its own head, tail dropping to the ground.

“Now, please, put me down. I think I just pulled a muscle in my wrist no thanks to the two of you,” you snapped at the two of them. The anger mostly coming from the pain sprouting from your throbbing wrist.

One look in your heat gaze had the Yautja listening to you. Your feet gingerly touched the ground. Con’tei was hesitant to let go of you at first. His gaze couldn’t stop flickering towards the creature he was sworn to kill. His muscles twitched as he fought every single cell in his body not to leap over you and slaughter it where it stood.

Instantly, you turned towards Con’tei and jabbed a finger into his chest. “Hey! Look at me, sir,” you demanded. The burnt orange Yautja had to drag his gaze off of the xeno. You had just turned your back to it with little care of your safety. “I know you are freaking internally and externally but let me explain.”

He bristled. Of course, you better explain in why in Cetanu’s name is there a hard meat in your home. And why was is following you around? Why was is it protecting you? His first thought was dismissed when smelled no change to your body. It hadn’t implanted anything into you. Con’tei snorted and crossed his arms.

You couldn’t help the sigh, shoulders sagging a little. “Okay, I deserved that.” Con’tei could agree with that. “But, you must see it from my side. I was working the field when I stumbled across this poor thing, all injured and begging for help.” He was ready to shake some sense into you. “I took it home and nursed it back to health. Now, its like a dog! It follows around and helps me around the house and even in the field.”

His anger flooded back to Con’tei’s mind and nearly blinded him. How could the one person he loves in the universe say such stupidity in the moment? He knew you were smarter than this. Yet, here you were proving him wrong with each word that falls out of your mouth.

The xeno made its point by coming up behind you and nuzzling its ugly face into the crook of your neck. His muscles flexed. “And why do you have it our home? Why isn’t it dead?” Injured, you should’ve had little trouble by exterminating the cursed thing. Why did your heart have to be so big? Why did your luck have to be so terrible?

Your face soured. You stepped back and patted the top of the xenomorph’s smooth, shiny head. It gave a chuff and rubbed against you some more. “Because, it was injured! I had to save it. I wasn’t going to let it die! What kind of person do you take me for to leave an injured creature for dead?” By Paya’s name, if he didn’t love you so much. He desperately wanted to shake some sense into you. Maybe rattle the thought of care for it out of your head.

“Exactly why it should be dead. You had a chance to kill it. Why didn’t you take it?” His hunter mind couldn’t grasp the thought process of your ooman brain.

Those were the wrong words to say.

“I told you! It was injured and I’m not like you. It looked so sad and pathetic. Now, look at it! It’s like a puppy I’ve always wanted. A very…” you trailed off to glance over your shoulder. “A very big, scary puppy who would protect me!”

There was truth to your words. Clearly, it was willing to protect you from someone who could easily kill it. But to leave it to live, Con’tei couldn’t let himself live with that knowledge. Even if it showed compliancy to you at the moment, who knows when its baser instincts kick in and slaughter you or use your body for a host.

Con’tei huffed and narrowed his bright eyes on you. “I said no.” The Yautja was still young and recently gained his clan marking during his chiva against these blasted creatures.

The way your brows jumped at his denial; then, your gaze darkened. Con’tei felt a drop of fear fall into the pit of his stomach. “No? Well, mister, it’s not up to you. You go off on these hunts all by yourself for a week or so. I’m left all alone!” You turned your head and nuzzled against the unforgiving, smooth surface of the xenomorph’s cheek. “What happens if something attacks our home? I can’t protect it to save my life. With it, I could at least stand a chance.”

What were you thinking?! After everything he’s told you about his near failure during his chiva, you had wished for the hard meat to stay. You go against his direct order to protect you keep it!

Yet… the truth behind your words sunk deep into the soft tissue of his brain. The knowledge this planet held many dangers while you sit at home, unprotected and weaponless, churned his stomach. Con’tei gritted his mandibles and looked over your shoulder. The creature had its face turned towards him, chin resting on your shoulder.

He tried to think of ways to convince you. Maybe, he’ll spend what little credits he had to get you a creature to protect you. Something he could train from a young age. Something that wasn’t a hard meat that could tear out your throat in a instant.

When his gaze returned to you, his stubbornness finally cracked. A groan sounded from him. “Little one, I swear…” he trailed off then let his shoulders sag. “Alright, alright. Fine. But, you must have it trained. A collar will be put on it. It will send an electric shock through its body, immobilizing it should it turn on you. I’m warning you, my mate.”

All of his stories he’s told you were fresh in your mind. His near defeat of his own life by these creatures. But, the loneness of sitting in an empty house made life difficult.

A squeal pierced the air. Your arms snatched around his waist. Con’tei jolted at first then let himself settle in your embrace before his own arms return the motion. The hunt had been long and made him long for this affection with you this entire time. What is he going to do with his little ooman who has him wrapped around their tiny pinkie finger?

With a sigh, he lets you go.

“Okay, you two be good then. I’ve gotta go clean up the bathroom!” You blew each of them a kiss before skipping towards the bathroom. The door was closed behind you to clean up the mess the xenomorph had left behind in his wake of protection.

Both of the alien’s watched as the door closed behind you. Then, they snapped their heads towards the other. A second paused the still air. Each lunged at the other in a clash of fangs, claws, and snarls.

[paragonrobits]

on a whim i looked up the Templin Institute (a worldbuilding-focused youtube channel I dropped because I was horrified at a video they made where they claimed that the Men of Tolkien's Legendarium aren't REALLY human because they're not vicious enough, cruel enough, or obsessed with war) and I was miffed to see that apparently since I dropped them they made a video arguing that everyone in the MCU should be living in constant fear and that it would be better to live in the universe of The Boys (because the super serum is qunaitifable) and Warhammer 40k (since in that one, everyone is a zealot who believes that the God-Emperor protects them and thinks that all aliens are inherently evil)

and it sort of illustrates a thing that... I don't think sci fi fandom or writing IN GENERAL is like, but it is enough of a common element to bother me, and its when people treat cruelty, systemic brutality or man's capacity for evil as an inherently positive aspect.

This ties into the video that caused me to drop them; the channel made the claim that the Rohirrim would have been doing better if they had been genocidal and brutally attacked anything different enough from them (in the sense of "maybe if they had killed all orcs on sight for being nonhuman, Rohan would be doing better"). and its like... why?

I honestly can't fathom why anyone would consider that a good thing, or even think that it SHOULD be expected to hate and fear anything different from you, and to got to the extreme that NOT being xenophobic by default is some kind of failing, or imply that not wanting to kill all other forms of life makes you different from humans, or that being more bloodthirsty or willing to hurt others is an advantage.

What, I can't help but wonder, is the appeal in lionizing the worst parts of ourselves?

You see a lot of this in sci fi, and i think its because a lot of those look at the factions involved as characters in their own right, so they don't really feel much when stuff like 'by performign x social policy, the Human Dominion allowed 42 percent of its people to starve to death on purpose' is considered a fairly neutral detail.

Mindless fanaticism is often prized in these settings, to the point where the most common fandom memes is numbing stuff like 'FOR THE EMPEROR' and 'PURGE THE XENOS'. quite literally stuff all about turning your brain off and being happy about being a murderous garbage-animal that acts like a walking personification of the 'maybe the people who say all humans are inherently evil animals and that it will be a blessing when we all die and no longer poison the universe with our cancerous capacity for evil' idea.

i find it really, REALLY fucking creepy when this stuff gets popular, and more to the point, when the idea of 'humans are naturally warriors/soldiers' becomes so prevalent that you have people hating the idea of some universe where we don't automatically try to kill things for not being like us. its just exhausting, and tedious and...

I don't know, but it doesn't really sound right with archaelogical evidence for us.

I'm thinking about how ancient graves from our own ancestors and our neanderthal cousins both have many signs of caring for the ill, the elderly and infirm. the remains of children with severe Down's syndrome who survived until at least five years old, well cared for by others. Lots and lots of bodies with healed fractures and broken legs, which means someone took care of them; a running animal, and a hunter, with a broken leg is a dead animal. A healed leg is someone who was taken care of.

I think about how on the island of Cyprus, they found an truly ancient burial. In it, they found the body of a long-dead human, and beside them, the body of a cat, laid to rest with ceremony and by all signs, love.

The burial is around 9,500 years old; almost ten thousand years ago.

This predates the first confirmed use of writing by at least 3000 years or so. 3000 years before the epic of gilgamesh became one of our first stories (a story, I note, about a king who grieves the death of a friend and desperately tries to find the secret to immortality, and in time makes peace with the inevitability of death, and becoming a story we still know today).

War goes back a long way; there's no mistake about that. But I think about how friendships and love for animals that loved us too, and long-dead people still showing the signs that people cared enough about them to keep them alive as long as possible, is probably much more integral to the concept of being human, or perhaps what it means to be a thinking entity at all, more than our capacity to hurt each other.

[emilysidhe]

I just finished A Desolation Called Peace by Arkady Martine, the sequel to A Memory Called Empire, and I *loved* them both, but I’m still going to point out a few nit-picks I have with it, in order of petty to significant:

I do love and appreciate Mahit’s prioritizing her need to keep her sense of self as non-Teixcalaanli by refusing to live in the City until she’s certain that her love of its culture won’t consume her. Nevertheless, as a reader I continue to be more stressed out than the text wants me to be about how and when the Stationers’ visa applications are being processed when their sole-ambassador-who-has-no-staff is two months’ space travel away from her office on Teixcalaan. The one line about having her mail forwarded did not help!

A high-tech space empire typified by massive bureaucracy and high education standards that’s made first contact with aliens at least once before *must* have actual, qualified xeno-linguists somewhere in its government or academia. Three Seagrass assigning herself and Mahit to the task of deciphering an unknown alien language basically because she’s bored at her desk job and wants an excuse to see Mahit again is a way bigger deal than the characters or the text ever acknowledge. They are already having a border war with this species and the stakes of figuring out how to talk to them are so high, and Three Seagrass is like, “Well, as a poet, I’m really good at my own language and Mahit must be good at figuring out foreign languages and cultures since she understands ours so well, so that’s basically the same as being an actual linguist right?” No. I understand that taking someone with official qualifications along would have added another original character to an already expanded cast, and undercut Three Seagrass’s already flimsy excuses to drag Mahit into this, and created a third wheel to get in the way of developing Three Seagrass’ and Mahit’s relationship, but if the author wasn’t going to do it, there should have been either a stronger in-universe justification for Three Seagrass and Mahit to have at least no worse chance of success than a real language specialist like the Fleet requested, or a greater acknowledgement of how huge a dereliction of duty deciding to take an unqualified crack at this herself actually was.

Avoiding explicit spoilers, I didn’t like the resolution to the Darj Tarats subplot. Him being present in the final scene felt very contrived and also pointless. I kept wondering why, from a story perspective, he was even there - right up until his final line, which was like, “well, I guess I know why he had to be here for the story now, but I’m not sure this justifies him adding nothing to that whole previous scene.”

Also, why was he there from a character perspective? Like, he tells Dekakel Onchu that he’s going to do something, and then he doesn’t really seem to try to do that, he just - yells at Mahit in front of the Teixcalaanlitzlim like he thinks if he just berates her harshly enough she’ll make the battle go how he wants with - idk, magic I guess? - even though the general he wants her to manipulate is standing right there listening to all this. I get that he’s supposed to be a ruthless and power-abusing man who has spent so long obsessing over one idea for a master plan that he’s lost sight not only of the moral ramifications but also practical questions about whether it would even work the way he envisioned even if his agents obeyed him completely and has nothing left but to take it out on them when they don’t and it doesn’t, but I’m not sure that he’s intended to come off quite as foolish and shortsighted as he ultimately does.

Anyway, despite what it sounds like, I did genuinely love both of these books (somehow it’s easier to list problems than to genuinely enthuse about all the things I loved!), and I’m really looking forward to rereading them in the context of what I now know from having read them and to seeing what else the author writes in this universe.

[algoreithms]

A little question for you, if you had to rank the alien movies from best to least favourite? ALSO I LOVE YOUR ART, always happy to see your post

hehehe first off THANK YOUUU I appreciate it so much <3 secondly, my ranking is gonna get me creme brulee'd, flamebroiled if you will, past the first one, but its below the cut lol

1) alien

it's literally a classic and made me develop a love for sci-fi horror that has been going strong for most of my life lol. i feel it's a given it has to be my number 1

2) alien: resurrection

i know it sucks so bad and makes no damn sense canonically sometimes but... it's campy and it has wormed its way into my heart over the years. i could genuinely watch it 7 times in a day and not get bored. i also love how queer it is. ripley 8 and call should've kissed and johner and vriess DID kiss. as a bi trans dude, i definitely love those aspects bc they feel special to me. no matter how much it sucks as an actual entry in the alien anthology, i love it like an ugly christmas sweater

3) prometheus

even though it's more its own thing than a true alien movie, I adore the religious themes, scenery, and I wish there had been more exploration with shaw's character before she got dissected like a high-school science lab frog. but alas.

4) aliens

aka the second one that's named in a very confusing way. I loooove the ambiguity of how sapient the xenomorphs are in this movie. "what do you mean, they cut the power?" is still so fucking scary to this day and it's my favorite movie depiction of the xenos. it's also the first use of the term xenomorph in the franchise I think. dope ass movie, I also love ripleys funky haircut and the theme of the struggles of motherhood

5) alien: covenant

it's not my favorite because when I first watched it the pacing was very jarring compared to other slower alien movies, but I've grown quite fond of it and it's honestly iconic. I find myself thinking about specifically Covenant David's weird ass soooooo often he's such a disconcerting character.

6) alien³ or alien 3 or alien cubed or whatever

not super fond of alien 3. it's the weakest to me and the one i always forget about personally. ripleys character arc confused me and continues to confuse me even after multiple rewatches, but I will say that her look in the film is iconic and I love the buzzcut. sigourney weaver the woman that you are. not much else to say about it as once again to me it's entirely forgettable

tl;dr I live laugh love the alien anthology even if my movie preferences are deranged. ty for asking <3

[suometar]

Okay so my insights about Alien: Romulus.

I've been a fan of the xenomorph franchise since 1997 when I first saw Alien Resurrection. It also made me a massive fan of the gorgeous and sometimes deeply disturbing surrealist art of H. R. Giger - to the point that I have his art tattooed on my skin (no, not the usual xenomoprh or the Li painting variants but a less known pieces called Vignettes).

So, back to Alien Romulus from someone who loves the franchise.

In short: Overall a solid 7+ / 10 from me despite some big flaws. If you like xenos; watch it!

Spoilers ahead.

Things I liked:

Solid story. Some say that it's a remake of the original Alien film, but I disagree. What did you expect? It's an Alien film. This is what Alien films are. All of them. I love it. 1. Someone is stupid enough to get an embryo inside a human. 2. Mayhem ensues. 3. A third stupid someone finds the place deserted (and this is where the story begins) 4. Mayhem ensues, again. 5. Final girl scene. Tell me this isn't the basic skeleton behind each and every Alien film. Good. Now can we just enjoy this predictability that's part of the fun?

As someone who's also read all the audiobooks and dramatisations made for the francise that are unconnected to the films plus the original Alien 3 script dramatisation (which is amazing btw, has Lance Henriksen and Michael Biehm playing Bishop and Hicks, warmly recommended listening), this film is a solid expansion of the universe. It explores the franchise universe from its own point of view - even though it includes several nods to the previous films. In my opinion it wouldn't be as good if it didn't have those touching points to the other films and apparently to the games as well.

Gripped my seat so tight that my dog found it uncomfortable to sleep on my lap XD The horror and thrilling parts were exquisite. Perfect execution.

Practical effects in 2024? HELL YES. I need to watch it again just to marvel at them again.

Perfect execution of set design that followed the original designs of the 1979 Alien film. Spot on. Absolutely adored the choice.

With that, including nods to Giger's original, overly sexual designs - perfection. I saw someone complain about it and I thought that they must've not ever checked Giger's art. That's exactly what it is. Call me a freak, but I loved the choice.

Loved the design of the grown xeno hatching from an egg. Every film brings a new fracture of info of the xeno growing cycle into light.

Andy!!! Hello? What a beautiful character. An A++++ performance from the actor. I honestly first thought based on his facial expressions that he was done with CGI. I was amazed when I realized that it was a real human being acting. Mind blown.

Now, things I didn't like in the film and that were big ones.

Showing where the xenomoprh problem originated and wreaked havoc on the space station - a BIG BIG minus. Part of the enchantment of these films is to learn with the characters what happened. I don't want it to be told to me as the very first thing in the film. Very disappointing choice that took part of the anticipation and horror away from the start.

Why were the face huggers in the fucking freezing pods? I have questions: - couldn't they just freeze the real eggs or were they running out of space on a fricking huge space station? They could've just stored them in a cargo container outside the station in space, in the fucking cold that would've taken care of the freezing. - who the fuck did the job of taking the facehuggers out from the eggs??? When the egg opens, the facehugger wakes up. I need an explanations - Overall: why there weren't any eggs??? They're part of the FUN.

WHERE WAS THE QUEEN WHO LAID THE EGGS???? I need her in EVERY ALIEN FILM. E X P L A I N !!!

They showed just one corridor leading to the hive? BORING. Show me the whole hive because it's always the only way out. Except this time and...dissapointing.

Acid blood not speading in zero G? It does get force to move from the impact of the bullets, thus it should still spread more violently in zero G and not just stay in place. Especially since in zero G it has nothing else but air that resists it's movement. My mind couldn't buy that.

They already did the humanoid white skinned xeno/human hybrid in Alien Resurrection. They could've invented something new.

Rook's CGI? If I can clearly tell something is CGI while watching on a large screen, it's badly made CGI. Rook was supposed to be a physical, remaining part of a synthetic. They made incredible practical effects for the xenos for this film and already Aliens had great puppet for broken Bishop. Why not go with a puppet instead? It would've been amazing. (To anyone who says they didn't like Rook: watch the original Alien. He IS a piece of shit. You're right in not liking him.)

Okay, I guess I'm done. For now.

[thehorrortree]

Submission Window: November 1st - December 17th, 2023 Payment:£20 per accepted story Theme: Self-contained unpublished sci-fi, fantasy and horror stories of between 2,000 and 6,000 words. Fanatical is currently OPEN for submissions. We are looking for unpublished sci-fi, fantasy and horror stories of between 2,000 and 6,000 words. Please only submit one story at a time and don't submit if it's already submitted somewhere else. All stories should be self-contained, no "to be continued". Recurring characters across multiple stories will be considered, as long as each story is a solid read in its own right. If you've already been published in an issue of Fanatical you are free to submit again, but we may hold your submission over so as not to publish the same author in back to back issues. Fanatical will pay £20 per accepted story, paid upon publication. We pay via Paypal. Upon acceptance, authors retain rights to the story but we ask they don't publish/submit it anywhere else before it is published in Fanatical. These stories should be inspired by/based on tabletop games - roleplaying games, board games, miniature wargames. Though Fanatical may take it's name from the concept of fan fiction, we're not looking to get sued here. A story about an adventuring party consisting of a dwarf, an elf, a human and a halfling going into a dungeon to fight a dragon is fine. A story specifically set in a copyright protected world of Dungeons & Dragons, with reference to its locations and characters is not. A story about a genetically engineered super-soldier in power armour fighting aliens in the far future is fine. A story about a Space Marine fighting Xenos in the grimdark universe of Warhammer 40,000 is not. Rest assured the editors at Fanatical will work with you to ensure your stories meet our criteria in this regard. Authors should be able to clearly point to the editors which game inspired their story as it will be included in the Suggested Playing section included in each issue. We appreciate that some might be able to stretch the definition of "inspired by" but please don't try and hammer a square peg into a round hole. Submission deadlines and format Fanatical is open to submissions all year around. We will be operating on a rolling deadline basis. If you submit after the deadline for a particular issue, your submission will be considered for the next issue. If we receive a number of good submissions, we may ask to hold your story over until the next issue. Issue 2 (September/October) - releasing August 28, submissions now closed. Issue 3 (November/December) - releasing October 28, submissions now closed. Issue 4 (January/February) - releasing December 28, submission window September 1 - October 31. Issue 5 (March/April) - releasing February 28, submission window November 1 - December 17. Submissions should be submitted in the form of a Word document, size 12 Times New Roman, double spaced, standard margins with pages numbered. Please include your name (and pen name if applicable), contact email, brief writer's bio (no more than 100 words), what game inspired the submission and word count. Please see the example below. As long as it's close to this format, you should be fine. Submissions can be sent to the following email: fanaticalmag@gmail.com Via: Fanatical Magazine.

[clean-casual-analysis]

What a character!: Xenomorph

I was hesitant to try and write this one. I love and fear this creature so much, I’m not entirely sure what to say that hasn’t already been more eloquently put by others. But I’ve been on an alien kick for awhile, so I should at least give it an honest attempt. The most deadly creature from beyond the stars, who’s structural perfection is only matched by it’s hostility, the xenomorph.

(Art provided by RJ ‘Arvalis’ Palmer, from Alien 40 Years 40 Artists)

Red On Black

The way that the xenomorph reproduces and kills is equal parts gruesome and horrifying. The very birth of a singular alien will splatter viscera all over the area. Rarely do you ever actually see a xenomorph eat the corpses of it’s victims. The one and only thing on their minds is killing and expansion of the hive. Oh, you thinks weapons and military training is gonna save you? You’ll either get overrun by their massive numbers or sprayed by their molecular acid blood because of your desperate gunfire. When you encounter this creature, death is all but guaranteed.

There’s always another Icarus

Despite the near extinction level threat that the xenomorphs possess, there are those who choose to ignore the danger. Some are even thrilled by it. Weyland Yutani doesn’t see the downfall of mankind, they see a weapon to sell. Even after countless failures and disasters, they still try to use them to their own ends. The yautja (predators) build entire temples around them, using them to train their young. But no matter how close weyland or predators get to actually conquering these aliens, their wax wings eventually melt. But any normal, sane person who’s encountered them would much prefer their xeno eggs scrambled.

Perfect Organism

It’s unique and unsettling design is one of its best attributes. Biomechanical, pervasive, and grotesque in all the right ways. The absurd amount of saliva, the inner mouth used as a terrifying dagger, the barbed tale, it’s adaptive nature. All of it amounts to the ultimate killing machine, representing so many different fears at once; Death, assaults on our bodies, and the dark unknown.

[benevolentlibraryghost]

Medieval Xenomorphs

The author has written a foreword, in which he asks readers not to spoil the story to others. He states that we only have one chance to enjoy a story for the first time. I would like to honor that wish, so I have decided to first discuss my general thoughts before I give spoilers. I have also tried not to create a title for this post that is badly giving away the entire plot - something I normally do.

What I like about this book is that it is a completely different take on the Alien Saga. This story doesn't take place in space or on a futuristic space station. Even though the story is not set in the past, it's setting has many medieval elements.

The book tells the story of the people of Ataegina, a planet afflicted by Xenomorphs. The people call them Demons and try to stay far away from them. They don't have access to firearms or Ripley's iconic flamethrower. Instead, when these people encounter an alien, they choose a whole different approach. Instead of fighting the alien, they grab their 'little friend' and slice their own throat, so their bodies can't be used as hosts for new aliens.

Now, the people of Ataegina don't meet aliens that often. They mostly stay inside the safety of their hold. So-called 'runners' are responsible for taking goods from one hold to another, like medicine or spices.

One of these runners is Ahiliyah Cooper, a 19-year-old badass lady from Lemeth Hold. Her home has the rule for every man to go on 5 mandatory runs before they can take on another role in the hold. Women need to do 10 runs. So they either do this or try to stay pregnant until they turn thirty and don't have to go on runs anymore. Refusing to run is not an option in Lemeth Hold.

Ahiliyah is the leader of a small crew including herself, Creen and Brandun. Creen is small, smart and a bit arrogant. Brandun is tall, strong and tries his best to protect the ones he loves.

These three youngsters come across a way to fight against the aliens. But in order to wipe out the species, they must go find the Alien Queen.

I will discuss my further thoughts (including spoilers) underneath this GIF of a dancing Xenomorph.

During one of their runs, the crew is surprised by an alien. They fight it and manage to kill it. To their surprise, they aren't that badly hurt by the acid blood, because they were protected my caminus leaves. Since Creen is badly traumatised by the event, he gets permission to study these leaves. He eventually creates a poison that makes Xenos die after a few minutes.

The crew wishes to put it to the test, since other holds have been infiltrated by a new type of Xeno that digs its way into the fortress. But they don't get permission, because the Margrave is a powerhungry bitch who doesn't want teenagers to be better than he is. So the crew sneaks out and tests the poison. It works (yay) and they try to sneak back into Lemeth Hold when they see hundreds of refugees from other holds. Ahiliyah figures out Lemeth hold is next on the Aliens hitlist and tries to warn the leaders, but they don't listen.

I see a pattern here with other stories in the Alien universe, especially the Alien movies. Ripley is not taken seriously when she warns others of the Xeno. They believe her when it is too late and the aliens kill everyone. The same happens in the novel. The people who won't listen to Ahiliyah's instructions to fight back are the ones who die. Karma is a bitch.

Now I do have a few minor problems with this book. First of all, everyone has a cool unique name like Sinesh or Tolio, but Ahiliyahs last name is Cooper. Cooper. Bruh. It doesn't match in my opinion.

Second, a big part of her character is that she might not stop after completing her mandatory 10 runs and is not planning on having children. But at the end of the book, this is completely thrown overboard and she settles down with her boyfriend. That felt really random to me.

My final problem is that there are so many minor characters who are named a few times throughout the book and then they become a big deal when the protagonist finds out they died. I would have liked to be reminded who these people were, if only what their occupation was.

But overall, I really enjoyed this book. I was unable to put it away and liked the pace. There are funny moments, sad moments and many powerful moments. There are enough encounters with aliens and they all build up towards the final epic battle.

I also really liked how a male author created a strong female character in a respectful way. The book has some hints of feminism, for example when it is made clear that women are treated unfairly in comparison to men. But the equality is not unrealistic; Ahiliyah isn't able to do everything a male warrior can do, like lifting a heavy shield. Her intelligence and independence aren't equal to great physical strength.

Rating: 4/5 hidey suits

[gamecrag]

Warhammer 40k is a tabletop game and fictional universe known for its dark and grim depiction of the future. In this universe, humanity has spread across the galaxy and faces constant threats from alien races, demonic entities, and even corrupt individuals within its own ranks. One of the defining features of the Warhammer 40k universe is its plethora of horrifying characters, from powerful daemon princes to ancient robotic beings and everything in between. In this list, we will explore the top ten most horrifying characters in the Warhammer 40k universe, each one a terrifying force to be reckoned with. 10. The Tyranid Genestealers Cults The Tyranid Genestealer Cults are a secretive and malignant group of xenos-worshipping societies that are made up of Tyranid Genestealers and their controlled followers. The cults thrive in the dark corners of the Imperial underworld all across the galaxy. They are a community of Genestealers, Genestealer hybrids, and completely human convert-hosts, infected victims, and genetic relatives known as Brood Brothers, existing within another society.They are known for their stealthy and secretive nature, and are often referred to as the "cancers growing unseen in the hidden spaces of Mankind's realm" n terms of hierarchy and organization, Genestealer Cults are led by a Patriarch, a powerful and charismatic figure who is able to control the minds of those around them. The cults also have a number of other key leaders, such as Magi and Primus, who assist in directing the cult's operations Genestealer Cults are often associated with the Tyranids, as they are controlled by them, and their ultimate goal is to prepare the way for the Tyranid invasion. While a Genestealer Cult can be played as a standalone army in the Warhammer 40K tabletop game, they can also be allied with a Tyranid army. 9. The Necron Flayed Ones The Necron Flayed Ones are a faction of Necrons that have been twisted by Chaos. They are known for their horrific appearance, as they have stripped the flesh from their own bodies, leaving them as skeletal figures covered in bloody gore. The Necron Flayed Ones are a terrifying force, as they are often unpredictable and uncontrollable, lashing out at anyone and anything in their path. The Flayer Virus itself is a curse sent in retribution by a C'tan known as Llandu'gor the Flayer. The virus drives its victims insane with hunger for blood and gore. Flayed Ones are loathed by other Necrons due to their virus, which is feared. Flayed Ones are led by the mightiest of their kind, known as Flayer Kings. Flayer Kings are Necron Lords who have suffered less from the ravages of the Flayer Virus, with their personalities largely intact. 8. The Possessed The Possessed are Chaos Space Marines that have been possessed by daemonic entities. They are often twisted and mutated by their possession, becoming grotesque and disturbing figures. The Possessed are a terrifying force, as they are often unpredictable and uncontrollable, lashing out at anyone and anything in their path. The transformation into a Possessed Chaos Space Marine is not always voluntary, and many are subjected to the process against their will. Once possessed, they are forever changed, and can never return to their former selves. They are often used by Chaos warbands as shock troops, leading the charge into battle, or as assassins, sneaking behind enemy lines to wreak havoc. Possessed Chaos Space Marines are often led by a Possessed Champion, a Chaos Lord who has been transformed by Chaos into a powerful and terrifying creature. The Possessed Champion is often the most powerful and experienced of the Possessed, and is able to lead their twisted brethren into battle with deadly efficiency. 7. The Daemonettes The Daemonettes are servants of the god Slaanesh, and are known for their seductive and alluring nature. They use their beauty to lure in their prey, before revealing their true form as horrific daemonic entities.

The Daemonettes are a terrifying force, as they can manipulate their victims into doing their bidding, before consuming their souls. Daemonettes are led by a Keeper of Secrets, a powerful daemon prince who is the most favored of Slaanesh's followers. The Keeper of Secrets is a towering figure, with wings and a horned head, and wields a powerful weapon that can cut through even the toughest armor. In battle, Daemonettes are fearsome opponents, striking from the shadows and causing chaos and confusion among their enemies. They are also capable of fighting in close combat, tearing apart their foes with their claws and blades. Their movements are graceful and fluid, and they are often compared to dancers or acrobats. 6. The Hive Mind The Hive Mind is the collective consciousness of the Tyranid race, an alien species that seeks to consume all life in the galaxy. The Hive Mind is a vast intelligence that controls the actions of every Tyranid creature, from the smallest Termagant to the largest Hierophant. It is a relentless and unstoppable force that will stop at nothing to achieve its goal of consuming all life in the galaxy. The Hive Mind communicates with its Tyranid subjects through a network of Synapse creatures, which are like reservoirs, and the lesser weapon beasts are like empty vessels. The little guys can't tap in/be tapped into the Hive Mind without a Synapse creature, but the Synapse creatures don't generate anything themselves per-se. The Tyranids' Shadow in the Warp ability is the result of the Hive Mind's psychic energy, which can cause disruptions in the communications of other species and can make it difficult for them to use psychic powers The Hive Mind is constantly evolving and adapting to new situations, and it can even mutate after deployment with unique Hyper-adaptation rules. In fact, the Hive Mind has recently evolved to include a nasty upgrade to one of the most numerous Tyranid organisms. Overall, the Hive Mind is a powerful and nearly unbeatable entity in the Warhammer 40k universe, and it is the driving force behind the Tyranid species' insatiable desire to consume and destroy all life in the galaxy. 5. Typhus Typhus is a Chaos Space Marine and the current Herald of Nurgle. He is known for carrying the Destroyer Hive, a weapon that unleashes swarms of flies that can infect and kill those they swarm upon. Typhus is also an accomplished sorcerer, and can call upon the powers of Nurgle to heal himself or spread disease among his enemies. Typhus is a true believer in Nurgle's philosophy of decay and rebirth, and he seeks to spread Nurgle's influence throughout the galaxy. He is known for his charisma, and can often convince others to join him in his quest to spread Nurgle's gifts. He is also a skilled strategist, and is able to outmaneuver his opponents both on and off the battlefield. Typhus was once a loyal Space Marine, but he was corrupted by Nurgle's influence and turned to Chaos. He was instrumental in the spread of the Nurgle contagion during the Horus Heresy, and he has continued to serve Nurgle faithfully ever since. He is a master of biological warfare, and has unleashed countless plagues and diseases upon the enemies of Chaos throughout his long and bloody career. In battle, Typhus is a terrifying opponent, striking fear into the hearts of his enemies with his imposing presence and deadly abilities. He is often accompanied by a retinue of Plague Marines, who are similarly devoted to Nurgle and share Typhus's love of disease and decay. 4. The Enslavers The Enslavers are a psychic race that feeds on the souls of other beings. They are known for their ability to possess other beings, taking control of their bodies and using them for their own purposes. The Enslavers are a terrifying force, as they can possess even the strongest-willed individuals and turn them into mindless puppets. The Enslavers had two unique abilities; they could

mind control other beings and could locate psykers in the material plane from the immaterial. In the universe, the Enslavers had used and "puppet" weak willed Eldar and used them as portals to bring large numbers of their kind into real space . The younger races' psychic instability in Warhammer 40k allowed the Enslavers, a terrible species of Warp entities who could enslave the minds of psykers to create living gateways into the material world for others of their kind, to enter realspace 3. The Dark Eldar The Dark Eldar are a faction of the Eldar race that have fallen to Chaos. They are known for their sadistic and cruel nature, and take pleasure in torturing and killing their enemies. The Dark Eldar are infamous for their raids, in which they capture and enslave other races, using them for their own twisted pleasure. The Dark Eldar are physically similar to the Craftworld Eldar, but their souls have been corrupted and twisted by the excesses of their society. They have a unique metabolism that requires them to constantly feed on the pain and suffering of others to stave off a slow death, which they call the "Thirst" . As a result, the Dark Eldar are constantly raiding other worlds and civilizations to capture victims to torture and drain of their life force. The Dark Eldar society is divided into powerful factions, each vying for power and influence within the city of Commorragh. The ruling class is the Kabals, powerful organizations of raiders and slavers that control vast territories within the webway. The Wych Cults are another powerful faction, focused on gladiatorial combat and the art of torture. The Haemonculi Covens are the third major faction, consisting of twisted scientists and torturers who experiment on living beings to create ever-more horrific monstrosities. 2. Malal Malal, also known as the Outcast God, is a god of Chaos that is unique in that it is not aligned with any of the other Chaos Gods. Malal is a god of anarchy and destruction, and seeks to destroy all other gods, both those of Chaos and those of Order. Malal's followers are often insane and violent, and their actions are unpredictable and unsettling. Malal's followers are few and far between, and they are often outcasts and rebels who reject the authority of the other Chaos Gods. They are known for their use of black and white colors, which represent their rejection of the duality of the other gods. Malal's followers are also known for their use of assassins and other covert operatives, as well as their willingness to work with other factions if it suits their goals . Malal's influence is felt throughout the galaxy, and he is said to have a hand in many of the great conflicts that have shaped the history of the universe. His followers are often seen as a wild card in the conflicts between the other factions, and they are feared for their unpredictability and their willingness to strike at any target that serves their goals . 1. Fabius Bile Fabius Bile is a Chaos Space Marine who serves the god Slaanesh. He is known for his horrific experiments, in which he creates new creatures and mutations through genetic engineering and other methods. Bile's experiments often involve using unwilling subjects, whom he keeps alive through various means, including implanting mechanical devices into their bodies or keeping them in a state of suspended animation. Bile's creations are often grotesque and disturbing, and his actions have earned him the nickname "the Spider." He has been called the "Clone Lord" and the "Manflayer" in addition to his other monikers. Bile repeatedly attempts to use his extensive knowledge of cloning and genetic engineering to create superhuman beings. He is the subject of a novel series by Josh Reynolds consisting of three novels: "Fabius Bile: Primogenitor" (2016), "Fabius Bile: Clonelord" (2017), and "Fabius Bile: Manflayer" (2020). Additionally, there are short stories and audio dramas featuring Bile.

[emblemxeno]

I honestly can’t choose a Xenoblade plot that I think is “better” than the others because they all set out to do different things.

XC1 builds up and subsequently knocks down the validity of revenge as a driving force, plays a lot with themes of perspective, Us vs. Them mentalities, prejudice, and isolationism, and gives value to a grounded viewpoint, defying what was once a pre-established “destiny” in favor of being going through life one day at a time, regardless of how fearful you are of the future. Future Connect caps off the main storyline by hammering in the value of togetherness, how you can shoulder more burdens and even find greater purpose to your life if you have others at your side to help you.

XCX takes a more... unsubtle approach in its story. What could’ve been a simple plot of “humans find an alien planet to live on” becomes so much more since it embraces the uncomfortable, the scary, the anxious visceral feeling that comes close to making you sick. You’re people forced to start from square one, with not only hostile wildlife to coexist with, but an entire faction of xenos who want to wipe you out. Very real and unnerving questions and situations abound. How long can we really last, even if we’re productive in our survival strategies? Would you find a way to alter your body or life span as a failsafe in an unfamiliar world? Are we making the same mistakes regarding the environment and politics just months after arriving on this planet that we did on Earth? It helps that the subquests-the main meat of the game-do so much to uplift the basic plot.

XC2 starts and ends as a Boy Meets Girl story, but involves so much more. Facing the idea that you’re doing nothing but bringing pain to people and inviting more destruction by the very nature of your existence, and not being shy in showcasing the ugly parts of the thoughts that result from it. Hiding a part of your life away because of the fear of rejection or persecution, finding purpose in your life, fighting for the cause you believe in instead of getting caught up in the right or wrong, the value of connections between the ones you love, having a vision for the world at large only to be forced to face the horrifying consequences of trying to play god. 

And Torna, while mainly a prequel game that was always meant to end in tragedy, nonetheless accentuates these themes; the value of life, Dying vs. Being Forgotten and its differing relationship to Blades and Humans, facing the horrors of being complicit in a cycle of destruction and violence even when all you wanted to do was help people. Not to mention, the copious amounts of catharsis the audience feels depending on when they play Torna relative to the main game.

I can’t in good conscience call any one of these stories “better” than the other, because of the different things they each set out to do things so vastly different from each other. Of course, I can compare the more objective parts of each plot (the writing quality, consistency, flow/clarity, pacing, etc.), and of course I have my own preferences (XC2 is my favorite of them all because its themes speak to me the most and I prefer strong character driven narratives over others) but the stories as a whole are too great in their own unique ways for me to say one’s better than the other.

That’s just how I feel anyway, lol. The writers are just that good with the hands they’ve been given tbh. And I have no doubts that XC3 will impress me just as much as the other games have.

[chipper-smol]

AU Summaries for new Followers

Feral Vessel AU - (tagged as #shitlordAU)

The first AU I came up with. Initially it was a for shits and giggles scenario that grew into a whole angsty thing. The general idea is that Ghost went back in time to the moment where they try to exit the Abyss. They get out at the same time as the Pure Vessel and make it their singular goal to make PK’s life a living hell (through pranks)

However, the angsty part comes in when Ghost realized they don’t have access to their dream nail, so they can’t get to the Godseekers and ascend to fight Absolute Radiance. Time is ticking and they are quietly panicking.

Other little details: White Lady dotes on Ghost. Ghost and White Lady are also developing their own sign language from scratch. Ghost has lots of feelings.

Pale Jester AU - (tagged as #PaleJesterAU)

This one is based off of the Fae concept that if you give someone your name, they own it as if it were an item. Like when someone asks you “may I have your name” its because they want your name like an object instead of just wanting to know it. Thats what happened between Nightmare King Grimm and PK. NKG found PK’s lingering light about to be choked out silently from the void and offered an escape.

PK took it. Now he dances with the Grimm Troupe under the guise of Pale Jester with no memory or recollection of who he once was. Whenever faced with something familiar, he feels the emotional impact of the encounter but never understands how important it is as the Nightmare Heart keeps his old memories locked up tight.

Other little details: All the troupe members know who PJ was except for PJ. PJ still has his half of the kingsoul charm. This AU gives me lots of feelings

Dragon AU - (tagged as #HKDragonAU)

Interpreting the use of Wyrm as Dragon because I said so. This one is def the most indulgent for me cause I love medieval fantasy. It’s still a work in progress so not much is built up yet.

PK is a dragon so therefore the vessels are dragons hence Hornet is half dragon and so Herrah fucked a dragon. Grimm is a Seelie Fae and Radiance is an Unseelie Fae. WL is a goddess based off of Druantia. Myla is alive and shaped like a friend

Other little details: The vessels have tail spades that look like their ingame nails.

Pale Child AU - (tagged as #PaleChildAU)

Ever wondered what an offspring of root and wyrm would look like if they weren’t cursed by void? Wonder no more! Monomon stole a developing embryo from one of the royal eggs before they were cast into the abyss and whisked it away to Fog Canyon. There she placed it in a test tube and watched it grow and thrive.

Other little details: Quirrel is big bro, PK senses somethings up but is too busy dealing with the infection to investigate

Actor AU - (tagged as #BehindTheKnight)

Your average “characters in game are really played by actors” au where shenanigans are had in character and out of character.

Aliens and HK Crossover - (tagged as #HollowMorphsAU)

Hey so you know how PK did a fucked up thing in canon? Well in this crossover we take that fucked up thing and make it rated R. PK is one of the last Engineers. He came to Earth and promised enlightenment to bring humankind into a new era. Needless to say there aren’t a lot of governments left.

There are two timelines. 

Timeline W: where the White Lady is an Albino Xenomorph Queen to whom PK blatantly flirts with. WL is intrigued and wooed. 

Timeline R: where the Shadelord is the Xenomorph Queen and this timeline is closer to hollow knight lore where the Xenomorph vessels are born out of root, wyrm and void.

Other details: there is a rival hive called the Radiance Hive, they’re infected with xeno-rabies which destroys worlds, Weavers are Predators

If you like my silly aus and hollow knight content and want to support me in my fanatical creative escapades I have a ko-fi that you can donate to!

[measlywritingblog]

Question of the week, should you choose to answer it: If you have multiple WIPs, how would the characters from one WIP fare if they were inserted into the world and/or plot of another? Alternatively, if you only want to talk about one, how would those characters fare if they were inserted into any book/TV/film world and/or plot of your choosing? - Mae (@touchingmadness)

Oh!! Funny story, I do have another WIP that I had before this one, and it's still very near and dear to me. You can read the WIP intro on my (very messy) blog for it here! It's called Defector's Faith and stars a very anxious mess of an alien named Blisk. They're my pathetic little wet napkin of a character, a poor little meow-meow, if you are familiar with the term- and they have to go on a journey to try and end the war that's happening between their people and humanity.

Alphara would absolutely succeed where Blisk is failing right now. While they both share the character flaw of being naive, Alphara is wayyyyyyy more confident, whereas Blisk knows that there's a whole lot that they don't understand and are unwilling to stand up for themself or their beliefs because of it. Alphara has the opposite problem, leading to the climax of Specter ending on a serious downturn for her. But in Defector's Faith, her blindingly naïve confidence in her optimism, combined with her natural charisma, would succeed in rallying the masses behind her banner of Peace and Love and All Things Good.

To put it simply, if Alphara would thrive in that universe. If she were in Blisk's position, she'd have the war stopped by the tomorrow morning.

Omegon is in a bit of a peculiar predicament even in her own universe, so she wouldn't really have any sort of analogue in Defector's Faith. I suppose I could see her as a powerful AI in that world, but you'd still lost the bulk of what makes her herself.

If Father got put into Defector's Faith, He'd go from kinda being the Emperor of Mankind from Warhammer 40k to definitely being the Emperor of Mankind from Warhammer 40k, and that would mean I would get sued by Games Workshop. He'd go full "Purge the Xenos!" which would actually be kinda good for humanity in that setting? Except it would just mean that the plot's whole message about power of friendship and peaceful diplomacy would fall apart, lol.

Hayes would also be happy as clam in Defector's Faith, while also being the character that would fit in the most naturally into that setting if I decided to seriously transfer him over there. He's a grizzled old war vet, and would blend right in with the masses of other grizzled old war vets that have been generated from the decade-long war against the aliens. I could picture him having some inspiring and consoling words to say to Adrian, my power armor dude from that setting, something about not needing to carry everyone's burdens all the time.

--

If we're talking the other way around, none of my characters from Defector's Faith would last very long in Specter. Blisk would crack like a fucking walnut on day one if they were subjected to half the kind of social pressure Alphara was under. Social conflict is sooo not their wheelhouse, and its their arc in their own story to overcome that fear. Additionally, Blisk already has trouble in their own universe keeping their heretical thoughts from the telepaths- they're not going to have any better luck in this universe, where the telepaths are even stronger and much more prevalent.

Adrian is probably the one that would do the best/last the longest? He's a really chill, go-with-the-flow kind of guy, but even he has limits, and as someone who would probably ask "are we the baddies?" pretty early on if he was working for Father's empire, he'd inevitably get the brainwashing treatment. He's also ride or die for A-35, which. . . see below.

A-35 would get the world speedrun record for dying the fastest in Specter, I think, though. He's actually a bit of a similar character to Omegon, but minus the trauma and minus the "rebel without a cause" thing that Omegon has in spades. On the flipside, he's really bad about shutting up about what he believes in even if it would blow his cover. So, given that he's an outspoken nonconformist who hates dictators, he'd quickly get silenced by Father's oppressive regime.

[theaceofskulls]

Finally got around to reading Eisenhorn: Xenos by Dan Abnett.

I have to admit that this one was kind of lower on my list of “40k books you have to check out” given that it was about the Inquisition but enough people recommended it that I had to check it out (considering that it’s touted as “the book to get into 40k with”).

I think the best way I could sum it up is “it aged well”. I think that sentence has a lot packed into it that covers most of my thoughts on the book, but to write out a bit more...

The book is detective noir meets space opera, which does add to an “aged” feeling to it beyond just the feeling that it’s a more tentative but excited step into something that you can tell will get better fleshed out and more confident as time goes on, even if the writer, Dan Abnett, has already had several books under his belt at this point.

There’s worn tropes and tired cliches but it doesn’t linger too much on them or rest up against them too hard as it tells a more breakneck story that ramps up as a conspiracy begins to come to light that ends up involving some truly alien and bizarre objects and locations that bend the technosorcery of the setting to its limits. Still, some of the book feels a little well-worn to anyone familiar with either the franchise or genre, even to me who has read maybe 4 real 40k books by this point.

That’s not to say it’s just rote cliche. It’s hard to explain but I think the issue here lies more with the characters. As of this book in the series, there’s still a stoicism to the main character that’s typical of the detective noir roots of the book, which extends to a lot of how the other characters end up presented due to the first person perspective. Hell, early on he’s rendered unable to physically smile due to sci-fi torture.

It makes Eisenhorn and the center cast around him (who fill the roles of “the less rough and more light hearted pilot Lancer,” “the amoral and subdued researcher guy in the chair,” “the by-the-book senior cop who is sent along with them who eventually warms to the protagonist’s methods,” and “the girl who was originally a prostitute but quickly becomes the adept protege”) fit comfortably into the outlines of characters we’re familiar with, even if the story itself is given a lot of room to breath on its own merits and go to some more interesting places (though it does end up feeling like a cross between the action adventure blockbusters of old and current 3 act grand finale blockbusters of today).

I walked away a little less impressed with this book than I expected given its high, high praise, but at the same time a lot more positively than I feared, both due to the protagonist and also how cliche I was expecting it to be. And while Eisenhorn and his crew do struggle to stand out against other similar stories, the writing and plot direction, as well as some late book events that unfurled did get me interested enough to start on the next book in the series.

I’ll agree with most others that this does feel like one of the more solid introductions you could have with the franchise. It doesn’t feel consumed with it setting in the way I see some excerpts from some of the books come off as and manages to balance tightly having a character involved with one of the more grimey parts of the setting come off as both part of that but also not off-putting.

Anyways, I guess I’m reviewing a couple of 40k books here so stick around for some more I guess.

[sadachmesarthim]

coercive notions - stucky

content: semi-graphic violence, blood, minor character deaths, emotional manipulation and abuse, false imprisonment, kidnapping, torture in the form of nonconsensual body modifications, stockholm syndrome.

dead dove: do not eat. steve sucks big time in this one. i’m not really sorry about it. 

note: happy 6k followers to @sweeterthanthis​ !!! i love the idea of these prompts, they definitely did their job !! i was thrilled when i saw i got my quote of choice. this one’s based on ”i wish i knew how to quit you” from brokeback mountain (my favorite angsty husbands) 

if the timeline is nonsensical in this - think 2 years post engame but no one's actually died! there is also some background starker but it's only mentioned twice. this is my first time writing for steve and bucky, and my first ~dark~ piece. it was definitely the challenge it presented itself as, and i’m super thankful for the opportunity to participate alongside so many talented witers!! 

word count: 4.2k ; read time 15 minutes

Steve'd survived because of Bucky. 

Bucky was the one that kept the fevers at bay, bought him medicine, nursed him back to health even when neither of them thought he'd survive through the night. Bucky was the one that dragged him out of the river, and left him alive on the bank.

Left him to wake up. 

Bucky was the one that welcomed him with open arms when Steve was abandoned by the Avengers. Steve'd lost his home, his family - everyone and everything he had - when the world rejected him (the millionth time). Bucky was the one that came back. He'd lost his arm, his identity, everyone and everything he remembered - but he still ran to Steve without hesitation. No matter how far away they got, no matter what separated them, they always came back to one another. 

They got together right after the fight with Tony in Siberia. 

They'd found each other, and suddenly gained a future. 

Steve had never... really pictured himself having a future. When he was younger, he accepted that he'd die young. A fever that wouldn't break, a cough that wouldn't leave, pneumonia he couldn't beat... Then he joined the army. He suddenly... had possibilities.

But there was still war, he was still fighting, and he was still in the line of danger every single day. It didn't matter if he was fighting Hitler, homophobia, Hydra, - someone was always gunning for him. Someone was always trying to get him killed. And it worked! He died! Crashed straight into the ocean and froze, for seventy fucking years!

Until someone had the audacity to defrost him, and yet again force him into the line of fire. Without really consulting him first. It was something Steve was slowly coming to terms with - he’d always be fighting, always be serving, always be protecting. 

He’d been failing his job as a protector, lately. 

+//////+

They all thought it was a bit weird, but then again, so is living with two men that look seventy years younger than they actually are. So is living with your coworkers. So is being a superhero. So of course none of the other Avengers said anything. 

Not when Bucky started asking Steve permission for things - to get up from, and leave, the table after meetings. If he could get seconds during breakfast or dinner. If he was allowed to come on patrols or missions. Everyone just assumed it was a forties thing, or that it was just Bucky getting more comfortable around them. The dirtier minds of the group (Tony, Peter, Natasha) chalked it up to a kinky sex thing. 

Steve saw it as devotion. 

Bucky saw it as a way to keep him appeased. 

See, Steve'd gotten more... irritable, lately. Every time Bucky got hurt on patrol, was in a bad position during a mission, needlessly volunteered to do something dangerous  - it pissed Steve off to high heavens, for no reason. It'd gotten significantly worse over the course of a few months, to the point where Bucky could barely breathe without Steve getting upset. 

It came to a head one day when Bucky got pinned during a fight with New York's latest nuisance. He wasn't even supposed to be there, it was his day off, for fucks sake. But he'd heard the call go out, and suited up before following a few minutes behind the rest of the crew. 

This particular species of big nasty™ (a xorrian dog? Thor had called it?) had an... upsetting taste for live, warm flesh. He popped up outta nowhere over Manhattan during the Friday morning rush, apparently scouting Earth for the next course in their Milky Way Dinner Service. 

Bucky, self sacrificing moron that he is, was in the wrong place at the wrong time. Just as Steve laid down the final blow, narrowly avoiding the alien's jaw, Bucky slid underneath it, shoving his hand between the soft plating of the monster's stomach. He reached in, single-handedly gutting the thing while Steve put a shield-sized dent in its skull.

Their foe dropped almost instantly, crushing Bucky beneath several tons of dead weight. None of them would have known he was there, either, if Tony hadn’t programmed life-sensing protocols in a new combat arm he’d gifted the soldier for his second anniversary home and Hydra-free. A signal went to Tony’s suit the instant FRIDAY sensed structural integrity issues, sending him a precise location.

“What do you mean he’s here, babygirl? We didn’t call him in.” The worry in Tony’s voice was apparent, calling the attention of the rest of his team. They were all intrigued, prematurely pulled from their celebrations of a fight well won. 

“It seems that Sergeant Barnes is approximately twenty paces northwest of your location, and his elevation is slowly decreasing. Would you like a map of the area?”  

“Uhh, no Fri. I think I know exactly where he is. Cap, get your ass over here!” His heart rate was increasing by the second. If he thought correctly (as Tony almost always did), Bucky was... underneath the alien. “We need to pick this fucker up, or flip it, or something. I think Bucky’s stuck under it.” 

Steve’s blood ran cold. “Tony, what the fuck are you talking about? Bucky wasn’t part of the group today.” 

Steve didn’t hide his anxiety well when it came to Bucky. Their team knew that he was Steve’s whole world. One more life threatening situation, and Steve might actually die from old age with all the years Bucky’d stressed out of him. FRIDAY sending a detailed ping with Bucky’s combat arm location didn’t do anything to ease his anxiety, either. He knew it was just like Bucky to do something like this - jump in without word, all act and no think. Try to help his team out and wind up crushed by an alien pet the size of a 787.

Peter was next to them, soon, ready to help get this thing off their friend. Together, they managed to drag Mister Beast-of-the-Week far enough down the street, revealing a very unconscious, very bloody Winter Soldier nestled in the asphalt. 

Steve was on him in a second, picking Bucky up with both hands. Tony already had FRIDAY doing preliminary scans and sending them back to Cho and Strange. Initial reads weren’t terrible, all things considered, but he still looked like shit. He might be five hundred times stronger than the average man, but no one’s prepared to be stuck under 200 tons of pure xeno-reptilian mass. Not even Bucky Barnes. 

His head rolled back freely as Steve picked him up, exposing an already bruised and swelling jaw. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, choking him on his own shock. Saved by the bell, Cho called Tony back immediately, sending for one of them to bring him to the tower surgical site immediately. 

“We have to go, Steve. Let us take him, we’ll get him fixed. We’ve done it before. We can do it again. But you have to let him go.” Steve’s upward glance brought him Tony’s exasperated face. He was dizzy, everything felt like slow motion. 

He didn’t register the movement until he saw it, watching Peter’s hands as they held him back. Tony took Bucky’s lifeless form, carrying him toward Stark Tower and away from the wreckage. 

The wreckage he shouldn’t have been anywhere near in the first place. 

The wreckage he wouldn’t even have known about if he didn’t beg Tony to be included in all mission alerts. 

The wreckage he would have avoided if it weren’t for the martyr complex he’d had since birth. It might not be nearly as strong as Steve’s, but it was still there. Bucky’d always gone to obscene lengths protecting the people he loved. 

Steve had a track record of doing a piss poor job of repaying the favor. He couldn’t save him from the war. He couldn’t save him from the train, or from Hydra. He couldn’t save him from Thanos. He couldn’t even save him from a stupid little skirmish downtown. No, from where he was standing, Steve’d fucked up. Big time. 

He promised that day, he wasn’t going to let anything like this happen again. 

+//////+

It was weeks before he was back to normal, and even then - Bucky wasn't entirely sure he wanted to leave. Not because he was still sore, or not feeling up to par. In fact, he'd been antsier and more ready to get back into the field than ever. He missed his friends, he missed the people he fought evil with every day. He missed sparring with Sam and going on runs with Peter, listening as Thor regaled stories about Old Asgard no one.. could quite follow. Missed the twice weekly calls from Shuri. But most of all, he missed his freedom. 

Steve wasn't ready to give it to him. 

When he woke up after surgery, Steve was right next to his recovery bed. He almost looked like he did back in the day - sleep deprived, worry lines forcing their way to the surface of his face. Vague frustration enveloped him, even when he met Bucky's conscious form for the first time. 

Their first few conversations were tender, loving, but it didn't take long for them to sour. 

Steve'd insisted on bringing Bucky back to their shared floor immediately after he woke. He allowed Cho to look him over, FRIDAY to scan him, everyone to come say hi - but he never let Bucky out of his sight. Not while Bucky was awake, anyway. 

He slept a lot in those first few days. He was still healing, and while it might have been much faster than anyone expected, he was also recovering from what should have been several deaths over. He spent most of his time in bed, asleep, or talking to Steve. 

Most of it was lecture, some was praise. How stupid he was to get involved on his day off. How much Steve loved him. How he wasn't allowed to go being a martyr like that again. How much Steve loved him. How Steve was going to do a better job of watching over him from now on. How much Steve loved him. 

There was a lot of that, after Bucky woke up. How much Steve loved him. How important Bucky was to him, how much it meant to him that Bucky was alive and breathing and conscious and okay. Every time he got a lecture, or a reminder, Steve's hand was on him somewhere. His shoulder, his wrist, his face. His throat. Every time he spoke, he squeezed, just the tiniest bit. Not threatening, not even to force acknowledgement. Just.. Because he could. To the untrained eye, it was just physical contact. 

Bucky knew better. 

Bucky knew conditioning when he saw it. When he felt it. 

Bucky also knew he was significantly more susceptible to conditioning than most people. 

Bucky was fucked. 

+//////+

Tony didn't think anything of it when Steve asked for handcuffs that could hold a supersoldier back. He, too, was a pervert with a genetically enhanced super-boyfriend, who was he to deny the Captain a little fun? He'd designed restraints Peter could use without breaking (or hurting himself!), why not share the love?

No one thought anything of it when Bucky stopped joining them on missions. Trauma has a different effect on everyone, maybe Bucky just needed time to process almost dying (again). No one would blame him for it. Hell, most of them encouraged his staying home. 

None of them... really thought anything of it when he quit leaving altogether. They trusted Steve's judgement, and if he didn't think Bucky was ready to leave, then he wasn't. Bucky knew better than to defy him, too - just kept his mouth shut around "yes, Steve"s and "okay, Steve"s.

The conditioning didn't stop as he got stronger. He'd been back to 100% weeks ago, but Steve was still babying him. Carrying him to the shower, not letting Bucky bathe himself, or brush his own teeth. He couldn't dress or eat without help, go anywhere without asking. "I just want to keep you safe. I need to know that you're not going to get hurt." Steve's words remained calm, level, but his face betrayed the threat behind them. If you don't listen, you won't be able to leave at all. 

Bucky'd learned the hard way that if he didn't listen to Steve, he wouldn't have a choice. He'd attempted to leave their floor by himself while Steve was out on a mission with Tony, Nat, and Thor - he got up early, showered, got dressed. His first taste of freedom in a long time, he was so excited to go see everyone again. 

He was downstairs and halfway through breakfast with Bruce and Peter when Steve got back. 

+//////+

Bucky couldn't remember the last time he'd seen the sun. It's a familiar feeling to him, one he thought he'd never deal with again. The isolation. The lack of control. The fear. 

Steve initially hadn't looked mad. He let Bucky finish his meal, kept a distant but watchful eye over the group until the two others finished and moved on to their lab work downstairs. 

Bucky knew he was fucked. He'd broken rules. He'd left their room without permission. Steve might not have looked it, but Bucky could feel the anger and disappointment radiating off him. 

After that... He wasn't allowed to do anything. 

No workouts, no missions, no patrols. No leaving their room. Steve'd used the restraints Tony made - had him thoroughly tied down to the floor below their bed. No internet, no phone. Not a single book or movie or boardgame in sight. Good boys don't require entertainment to behave. No eating - Steve'd placed a gastric tube down his sinus to provide nutrition. His muzzle, the one hydra'd used... Steve'd locked it over his jaw, and left it there. Good boys don't need to use their mouths - not to drink, not to eat. Not to talk back or call for help.  No using the bathroom on his own - he had a catheter replaced once a day, and Steve changed his bag as needed. Good boys don't get to leave the bed, not even if it's an emergency. 

He learned to wait for Steve. Learned his schedule - early morning meetings with Wakanda, check ins with Fury and Maria, patrol a bit after lunch. Then, he'd come back, make sure Bucky's bag was empty and his feeding tube was flushed and clean before feeding him. 

Steve allowed him to use the bathroom and shower at night, under incredibly watchful eyes. The restraints Tony'd made were long enough to stretch the entire perimeter of their room, but Steve kept him on a short leash. Bucky had five minutes total - shit, shower, shave. If he didn't finish in time... There's always tomorrow. 

If he did, he'd get rewarded. 

Steve'd wrap him up in a large fluffy towel, carry him to bed. He'd bring back the sweet little reminders, with his hand around Bucky's throat. How much Steve loved him. How this was all for his protection. How Steve wasn't going to let anything happen to him, ever again. How proud Steve was of him, for letting him return that favor, even decades later. How well behaved Bucky was, how good he'd been for Steve.

Steve was so different from Hydra, too. That's what made it so fucking difficult to resist the love bomb-type conditioning. He wasn't the torture type - didn't like the idea of doing anything he didn't have to. Steve didn't want to hurt him, and Bucky knew that. He found it harder to reject Steve's advances the longer he was locked in that fucking room, found it harder to discern whether or not he... wanted... to reject it.  

He was Bucky's dialysis, and his drinking problem. 

He was Bucky's oxygen machine, and the cigarettes he'd smoked to earn him one. 

Steve could ask Bucky to do anything, ask him for anything... and he was powerless to say no. He'd tried. 

+//////+

It'd gotten him a flick to the mouth, for his hesitation. 

"When I ask you a question, love, you need to answer me. Do you understand?" The tears in his eyes nearly spilled over, sharp pain from his lips radiating into his nose and the corners of his eyes. He didn't want to answer. He wanted to leave. He wanted to run, to get the fuck away from Steve and the compound and everything. 

"Yes."

"Yes what, angel?" Steve might've been good about keeping his emotions checked in public, but Bucky could tell he was smug. Gloating. He enjoyed this. What'd happened to the sweet kid from Brooklyn that could barely hold himself upright? Bucky missed him. 

"Yes, Stevie. I’m sorry Stevie." Saying his name was painful. This wasn't his Steve. This wasn't the Steve he'd fallen in love with. Wasn't even the man that'd dragged him out from underneath that alien... How long ago? Months? Years? 

Bucky didn't know anymore. 

Didn't know why his friends hadn't saved him yet. Didn't know how his absence went unnoticed for... however long it'd been. Didn't know why he was struggling to be upset about it all. 

Steve, observant as he was, could practically see the gears turning in the other's head. He cradled Bucky's face in his hands, drawing him into calculated eye contact. Bucky felt sick. There was something... wrong, there. Something Bucky'd never seen before. 

"They don't love you like I do, Buck. They don't want you. They don't love you." 

Bucky flinched at the words, physically recoiling from Steve's grasp. He knew it wasn't true, he knew... He thought it wasn't, right? 

Steve's laugh pulled Bucky out of his own thoughts, bringing him back to the room in front of him. He had a display up, with various recordings of the rest of the Avengers. He flipped through them, muting and unmuting seemingly at random. 

"... I mean, he's probably ditched us for Zemo again. Would that really shock you?"

"he almost died again. I don't blame him, i wouldn't want to be found eith-"

"-e can take care of himself, let's just give him time."

Steve waved the holo display away when he saw the first few tears fall. "Don't you see, Baby? They don't care like I do - they don't love you like I love you. No one will ever love you like I love you." Steve's words stung, but Bucky couldn't deny that they made sense. Of course no one was looking for him. He was unpredictable, still kind of an outsider. Why would they try to come find him? Why would they care?

Bucky's mouth moved before his brain could stop him.

"'m sorry, Stevie, please, I'm so sorry! I-I- I thought they cared, please, please don't leave me Stevie! I was so wrong, Steve please! Wish I knew how to stop, Stevie, but you know I can't. You gotta help me stop Stevie, I've been so confused, been tryin' to quit you Stevie but I can't. Wish I could quit you but I can't, I can’t be left alone anymore. Please, you can take my arm if you want it, Stevie. Take anything, take whatever you want from just please, please don’t leave me alone anymore!"

He was in hysterics at this point, unable to believe what was coming out of him. Was he really okay with Steve taking his arm away? Did he really love this Steve back? Was he just scared?

The worst part was that he couldn't tell. 

+//////+

The smell of fresh coffee woke him before he was ready. His eyes burned, still dry after Steve refused to close the window before they went to bed. 

Bucky would have closed it himself, but he couldn't actually reach that far. 

They'd moved out to the cabin a few months after Bucky finally broke realized how wrong he was. It was a cute little place, big enough for the two of them but small enough to not draw attention if someone came upon it by accident. Not that they really could. Steve'd installed motion sensors five miles out, and had fully automated... solutions, in place, should any threats or issues arise. 

They went entirely unused. 

It really was a beautiful plot of land - they had a few animals, a cute pair of kittens to dote on and play with. He had enough room to move around, to sit in the sun or curl up in bed. He had plenty of books, games, anything and everything he could want to occupy his time, really. He had Steve. 

And breakfast now, apparently. 

Steve set the plate on the bedside table, gently sitting next to his lover and planting small kisses on his still shut eyelids. Bucky looked up and smiled, blushing at the hand that'd wrapped around his neck. He reached out, gently thumbing at the inside of Steve's wrist. Oh, how he'd missed this. Missed contact with his Steve. 

He opened his mouth, accepting the bite Steve offered him. Steve always made the best pancakes, he thought, appreciating the hot meal hitting his tongue. He hadn't eaten this good in weeks. It was hard for him to cook without his arm, but Steve always provided. Steve cooked for them, cleaned up after them, made sure Bucky was sated. Safe. 

He'd taken off for a mission nearly a month ago. A dangerous one, he'd said. One he might not return from for a while, he'd said. Bucky worried. He always did when Steve left, especially since he couldn't know where or why he was going. But Steve always came back to him. Sometimes, he was back in one piece. Once, he'd come home with an arrow in his stomach and several gunshot wounds. That'd been a... scary night. Another time, he came home with half of his hair singed off and his clothes in tatters. 

Last night... Last night he finally came home, and he looked like shit. 

He was covered in bruises, nearly 40 pounds lighter than he was when he'd left. There were holes in the shield, too large to be bullets but too small to be anything else easily recognizable. Some were through his suit, too - puncture wounds littering his chest and stomach. They were already partially closed, but he was still bloody. 

There were still webs in his hair, too - Bucky brushed them away after Steve closed (and locked. always locked.) the door. He knew better than to comment. Steve was just protecting him. Steve loved him, he was doing what he needed to keep Bucky safe. 

But that didn't mean it didn't hurt. That each time Steve left for a mission, Bucky cried himself to sleep. He thought, eventually, that the pain would go away. That the death of each of his friends would get easier, somehow. That the fear, the hope, of losing Steve would stop consuming him. 

He'd just smiled, kissed his husband's cheek, and helped him strip down. He'd mouthed at the graze left on the side of Steve's neck, reverent in the presence that was his protector. Bucky'd developed quite the complex, in their time of isolation. Every time Steve came in - from cutting firewood, picking food from the garden, feeding the animals, or from nights like last... Bucky just couldn't stop talking. 

About how he wouldn't be alive without Steve. How he'd still be a mindless slave for Hydra, killing innocent people under everyone's noses. How he owed Steve his life, a thousand times over. How he'd've been taken by Ross or Stark or Clint or someone, and locked away miles under the sea. He'd pressed them into Steve's jaw like kiss-coated secrets, like no one in the entire world knew these things but Bucky & Steve. Like they were bits of information to cherish, to chew on and savour before swallowing. 

Steve just laughed, picking Bucky up and bringing him to bed. He followed shortly after, cleaning and patching himself up before snuggling right up to Bucky. 

Sleeping was interesting, initially, but they'd adapted. It was easier to cuddle Bucky without his arm, but sometimes Steve woke up with his legs tangled in loose chains by the footboard. It was an easy enough trade, in Bucky's opinion. Give up his arm, give up a bit of freedom, and get a loving, devoted husband in return? One that would make him breakfast in bed, one that would hold him and kiss him and praise him whenever he needed? One that would kill for him? Die for him?

Bucky saw it as a fair enough trade, and if that meant their friends needed to die... He tried not to think about it.

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans Are Space Orcs,”Red Void.”

Hello everyone, I am back from my little vacation from writing. I am thinking about slowing down my story output just because I work now, but who knows if I actually will since I have the opportunity to write at work. Anyway I am back, and I hope you like the new story. 

A dark silhouette against a backdrop of red haze, dwarfed thousands of times by rising black monoliths ascending into the redness, fading before their tops could be seen. Feet clatter against the ground echoing thousands of times over and outward, never fading, but seeming to vanish into the haze as it is bounced repeatedly of the towering metal structures.

The metal monoliths are geometrical, made in almost perfect rectangles with sharp cutting edges.

They don’t look natural, though mother nature has been known to make stranger things.

Their size is shocking, towering many thousands of feet into the air, taller than skyscrapers, almost never ending, and packed together like a forest, or it would seem that way.

It is hard to gage distance in such a space. The towering walls and the pulsing red fog give the impression of being confined indoors: claustrophobic and pressing, though the monoliths don’t seem to move as the silhouette makes  its way towards them.

It walks for many minutes, its feet echoing a thousand times in space.

The monoliths seem to be a mile apart in some places though their daunting size and oppressive shadow still gives the impression that they are close, towering over and staring down at the wandering figure in the shadowy gloom.

More smoke rolls in, giving a strange greenish haze toone of the towers, and a blue haze to another.

The walking of the feet continue to echo upwards and outwards, for miles and miles.

It would be nearly impossible to sneak up on someone in this place.

A deep moaning seems to permeate the air, the creaking of metal as it shifts back and forth in the wind.

It is a sound of abandonment. 

It is a sound of loneliness.

A shrill screeching sound rises up through the mist and then fads back down again.

Fingernails on chalk, or metal on metal.

All to be taken back over by the distant moaning.

The Shining illumination of the star is barely visible through the dim haze. On occasions the mists part just enough to allow a stuttering beam of light to pass through, and roll over the ground again before disappearing.

Despite the noise.

The place is lonely, and desolate.

Footsteps continue to echo.

“Admiral, do you copy.” The voice inside his helmet seems distant and warped despite its objective clearness.

Little white lights inside his helmet reflect over his skin, while his headlamp attempts to cut through the fog, though it is like trying to cut through soup. Instead of a clean beam of light, there is simply a great halo of white light that illuminates the darkness around him, being of more hindrance than help in some cases.

He turners it off, finding it easier to see.

A wave of distant light passes down through the fog and caresses across the metal ground before fading.

Ground, or floor.

What is the difference.

Ground seems… more natural while the floor sticks out to him as being man made, though that is probably down to simple semantics.

His brain keeps wanting to call it a floor though, and the implications of that thought sends a shiver down his spine.

“Admiral, do you copy-”

The voice seems nervous and impatient, and he swears he can hear a warbling echo behind the words, though he knows it is just his nervous mind talking, conjuring ghosts in the darkness.

“I read you loud and clear, Omen.”

Simon sighs in relief and exasperation. SHe is in control of the ship while he is gone. He thinks it is good for her, though he knows other people are skeptical of her ability to lead.

Sometimes she has a habit of sticking to closely to the rules.

“I don’t see why you insisted on doing this yourself. It isn’t your job, and someone else could have easily done it.”

Not this argument again.

“Simon, I told you before, the day I stop doing field work is the day I shoot myself out the airlock. If anyone is going to go out here into dangerous situations, I would rather it be me than some member of my crew, and furthermore, there are plenty of people on the ship as capable, or maybe even MORE capable than me, at commanding, so stow the argument for the time being.”

His tirade is cut off as another deep echoing moan rolls up through his feet and rattles through his suit.

“Admiral, are you still there.”

Ah, one of the science Nerds.

“Yeah, still here. What can you make of the noise?”

‘Hard to tell, there are too many echoes and too much interference from the fog.”

“Can you tell what it is.”

“CO2 mostly, and we can’t identify the components in the smoke either. WHatever it is, it is all over the planet in a low concentration, but where you are it is VERY high. How about you, any luck getting closer to those monoliths.”

He looked upwards, at the dark and towering structure just visible as a silhouette through the mist, “Yeah, almost there. I thought I parked a bit closer, but this palace is so big it is messing with my sense of…. Space.” He could hear the slow rush of his own breathing inside the helmet, “Any luck on that video feed.” he wondered.’

“It's patchy as is the sound. We think you are close to some sort of magnetic interference, that is messing with your equipment.”

He toggled the heads up display inside his helmet and took a look at the atmospheric readings.

It is still detecting mostly C02, and a tiny bit of oxygen, though not nearly enough to sustain human life.

Other readings are coming up as well, mostly though, they indicated high presences of other unknown compounds -- likely whatever is making the smoke different colors.

There is absolutely no moisture here with a humidity at zero and a temperature that plunges dangerously low, to the point that this place would have been a tundra if there is any water to freeze. He supposed all of that added to the thundering echo that came up every time his feet hit the ground.

The air is thick here, and it is easier for sound to travel.

“This is quite extraordinary.” one of the scientists sats, “The geometric structures on the monoliths alone are…. well , incredible. Would it be too presumptive to guess that these are leftover from some sort of advanced alien civilisation.”

There is a grunt on the other end of the line, “Lets not get carried away with ourselves just yet.”

Adam grunts in agreement, “As cool as it would be to find the ruins of some ancient xeno civilisation, we can't rule out that there are just some really strange natural formations.

“Out of all the people here who wouldn’t immediately jump to ancient alien civilisation, my guess never would have been you, Admiral.

He lets out a short blast of air from his nose, “Yeah, I guess it is a bit out of character, but this place…. Well it seems strange and wrong. Has me kind of on edge.”

Another slow beam of light passes before him, like the rolling eye of a searchlight.

The thought makes him even more paranoid, giving him the feeling like he is being searched for or watched.

This is all going too slowly for his taste.

He toggles another link on his head up display and kicks the bottom of his boots to life.

The personal gravity generators whirr into being, and he feels himself float slightly off the floor.

He wobbles a bit before regaining his balance.

He kicks lightly at the round to send him floating forward across the floor. He continues to do this for some minutes, speeding up and heading even faster towards the monoliths.

The blackness grows deeper in his vision, until the haze is all but gone and he is looking up at one of the massive structures. It is so tall, he has to crane his head all the way back to even imagine seeing the top. It is very distant and obscured mostly by the red rolling fog, but, on occasion, a beam of light cuts through and he thinks he can see the top.

“Hos is my camera?” He asks, reaching forward with tentative fingers to press against the wall.

“Much better, admiral, what is the suit telling you.”

He glances at the readout on his helmet which is still doing an analysis, “I can’t really tell what it is, it looks like metal to me though it isn’t shiny. When I press on it It doesn’t give.”

He curls his other hand into a ball and raps on the side of the monolith hard with his knuckles. 

A clattering echo rolls out and upwards before vanishing into the fog.

He waits a few seconds hearing the distant echo as it is rattled back to him, “It feels and sounds like metal.”

A groaning sound rises up in the mist, haunting, like the moan of some gigantic beast. The sound sets his hair on edge, and he can feel it prickling on the back of his neck.

He knows it is probably an inorganic sound, but somehow it still puts him on edge.

He keeps glancing over his shoulder into the rolling fog, watching as beams of light pass over the ground in great rolling waves.

“Take a sample if you can.”

“Copy.”

He lets the radio go silent and turns over his right arm, popping a catch on his forearm that contains a small collection of scientific tools. He extracts a small drill bit and places it against the wall unholstering the sample gun from his right hip. His breath is loud in his own ears.

He places the tip of the bit directly against the metal face and pulls the trigger.

The sound that follows is absolutely horrifying.

The squeal of metal on metal roared upwards and outwards causing a rising shriek to echo about the chamber only to be repeated back a thousand times. He panics and lets the drill go silent wincing as he listens to the echoes roll back at him from across the vast and immeasurable space.

The way it echoes reminds him of the inside of a cathedral or temple: a palace where one is supposed to keep silent and reverent. He feels the same way here as if his mere presence and the sound he brings distrubed some sort of hallowed silence.

It feels wrong.

And he feels wrong for being here, knowing that no human steps had ever marred this hallowed place.

He is unwelcome.

He turns his head back to the wall as the echoes fade and rests his hand against the metal confused at first until he realises….. There is nothing there. He pulls back in surprise  and looks down at the drill head which is also unmarked.

It’s a diamond drill bit, so it should have at least chipped something off.

“Admiral?”

“Yeah, I don’t know what this stuff is, but I couldn’t even put a dent in it. I am going to try to find somewhere else, maybe where it isn’t so thick, like a corner or something.”

“Alright, admiral we have to warn you that we are sensing some sort of atmospheric shift, which is going to make the fog even worse for you, perhaps we should pull back so the radios-”

“No, it's alright. I have the tracking implant, so just keep an eye on that. If, for any reason you don’t have me on the line and I am in trouble, I will run in a zigzag pattern or some shit.”

They seem skeptical, but don’t argue with him. He is the Admiral after all.

He turns to the side and activates the gravity fields on his shoes again sliding silently through the mist while keeping to the side of the wall. He can feel how it towers oppressively overhead.

The scientists are right, the fog does seem to be getting thicker, mostly its a sort of hellish red, but there are spots where it seem to glow sapphire or emerald, not in the pretty way of the jewels mind you but dark and greasy like dye poured into a muddy river.

As the wind picks up, the distant moaning increases.

The sound brings up feelings of abandoned factories at night, with the shrieking and hissing metal cracking and popping at the joints as the wind pushes against it. Luckily he is no longer making any sound, and that makes him feel a little better. For some reason he doesn't want to be noticed.

The scientists said there was no indication of organic life on this planet.

They never said anything about inorganic life.

He shakes himself to rid his mind of the stupid thought. That was just ridiculous, and what did it even mean. Did he expect Megatron to pop out from behind one of these monoliths and yell boo. 

Maye they were right.

Maybe he did watch too many sci fi movies.

The fog continues to roll in until it seems there is nothing left but a vast wasteland of red smoke, and the towering wall to his side.

He must have been going for many minutes, and only realises that he has reached the corner when the shadow passes away behind him, and he is left standing in a haze of red. He backpedals quickly until he is standing in the shadow once more and takes a deep breath. He turns to the wall, to where the corner is.

He does not want to try again, but he can’t lie to the scientists, and redraws his drill placing the diamond edge right against the corner. The grinding noise is even more painful this time, a screeching howellike the lamenting of some ugly terrifying monster with metal joints.

He pulls away and shuts off the drill.

He can already see that it is no use.

He holsters the drill and quickly slides around the corner. He cannot shake the feeling of being watched, normally he would just try to ignore such a sensation, but Krill: logical straightforward scientific Krill seemed to think that there was some truth behind all of it, and, somehow, it made him feel uneasy.

He had made it a good ten minutes around the corner, deciding to pass over to another cluster of monoliths looking smaller than the first grouping had. Hopefully he would find something more promising.

He tries using his radio, but there seems to be no signal. All he could hear was the rushing static.

For a few disconcerting minutes, he finds himself wandering through a red abyss. Nothing but red above him, red around him, and the dark black ofthe metal below his feet. It doesn't feel real, but at the same time, It doesn't feel like a dream. After about fifteen minutes of steady movement, he feels the beginning of burgeoning panic.

Is he going to be stuck in this abyss forever?

No! He can’t think like that. He is going to be ok, it is just the quiet that is bothering him so much.

He thinks about turning on his music, but decides against it. Somehow, even that feels wrong.

He just needs a bit of stimulation.

So he starts humming to himself. 

After a while the hummed tones of the imperial march disassemble and morph into nothing more than a stilted discordant melody made up of nothing more than stitched harmonies and the occasional off key note.”

It doesn’t help him to relax.

Over the sound of his hustling, a distant sort of ringing echoes through the fog. He can’t describe the sound, much less pinpoint where it is coming from. He keeps going in a single direction, afraid of getting turned around in the endless abyss.

Another sound assails him just as he is reaching the center of the divide.

This is hard to describe too, but sends a wave of shivers down his spine.

Like someone turned up the base on a massive speaker, and then decided to play a single note. It vibrates the ground and causes his teeth to chatter inside his head.

He stops, floating above the ground for a few seconds as the noise continues.

A wave of light cuts past him to the right, and he turns to follow it, witnessing, just in time, as the curtain of red haze parts, and he is given his first unobstructed view of his surroundings.

He freezes on the spot eyes wide.

He stands in an open space between two long lines of monoliths as if he were standing in the middle of a city street which continues on before it curves over the horizon. The massive black monoliths aren’t perfectly uniform, some large and some squat, some thin and some quite large.

Those don’t surprise him.

Not as much as the ones that are floating.

He takes a step back and nearly loses his balance staring wide eyed at the scene laid out before him.

Massive black towers hundreds of feet tall, suspended above him and to the sides. Now he understands where the light is coming from, the light and the interference.

It comes from the moving of the floating monoliths.

Even as he watches,one of them passes slightly to the side allowing a beam of light to cut past it and down to the ground, skimming over the space before him before vanishing again as the monolith rocks back into place. The swirling mist is pushed and tugged by the large shapes undulating over the ground and occasionally being sucked into areas of lower pressure being caused by the moving of the monoliths.

This explained the radio interference.

He has no idea how those things manage to stay in place, at least until he notices the massie black cables acting as a tether for the massive structures.

These formations can’t be natural.

There’s no way…. It… 

It can’t

Their scans showed that there were no more lifeforms here…. unless … it was abandoned.

It does LOOK pretty abandoned to him.

He tries once more to contact the ship, but still gets no signal. He tries to rout it back to his shuttle, and the signal boost is a bit better. He isn’t receiving anything, but maybe he can get something out.

“Omen this is Admiral Vir. I have come across something strange that makes me think this palace…. Is not…. A natural formation. I see floating monoliths and wires, or cords that seem to be holding them in a palace. I think it might be magnetic which explains why our coms aren't working so well, or maybe it’s something else.

I am going to take a look further in, but send a group of marines into orbit, and have them head down if something goes wrong. Warning that the monoliths move, so I don’t know how close they will be able to get. Keep in orbit, but don’t come down…. I don’t trust this place..”

Now that he can see, if only partially, he moves faster through the mist, pushing himself along over the ground in swift sweeping motions. Little rims of light glow from the bottom of his boot and over the ground as he moves. He can go faster now that he can see where he is going, and he makes quick time as he sweeps towards one of the structures.

They are smaller here, and he feels like they would be more easily handled.

He is quick moving towards them, and disengages his gravity fields as he gets closer, dropping to the ground with a thud that echoes up and down the massive block.

Overhead one of the monoliths groans, and he looks up.

HE knows where the sound was coming from now, watching as two of the shapes scrape past each other shedding sparks.

The sound is horrendous, but it is soon gone.

 He cuts into one of the side alleys, the echoes of his feet a bit closer now, bouncing back to him from one of the walls.

He is walking down another nondescript thorofare when another echo reaches him.

An echo that makes his blood run cold and his bones turn to glass.

A whisper that seems to echo from everywhere and nowhere at once.

Deus.