Some Fresh Concept Sketches Hot Out The Brain.

Shoutout to @chemos-factories for finding this sensational piece of clothing:

P1 artist: 凉子，commissioned by me

Custodes Uncia🐆 and 🐇sister …

Do you have any friends, Perturabo?

I'll be real, this is almost vent art. I am autistic, i can't touch people, but i want to. People i can handle being touched by are very, very few and far between. there have been four in my life. Touch starvation is real shit, craving something you can't handle. And yet then there are those few, few that you can. What won't you do to keep them? I don't know. The list is short. I feel like i can project this on Perturabo without much character conflict LOL.

Hey. International people.

Keep calling it the Gulf of Mexico or whatever your term is for it. Do not allow the Republican regime to label that body of water the Gulf of America to the world. The name came from a the term Mexica, what the Aztecs called themselves. It’s been called the Gulf of Mexico since the 1600s.

Keep calling it Denali. The original name before it was Mount McKinley. Don’t let the Indigenous Peoples/First Nations be erased.

It may sound stupid and petty. But it is an attempt to rewrite history and make us forget the origins. It is a literal white washing of history. This type of censorship is a beginning to greater evils.

girls be shaving

This story was written by the super talented and amazing @utterimmolation

"A Chance at Redemption."

The first thing Horus noticed was the quiet.

The Warp whispered, barked, *screamed* to him constantly these days. It was harder to hear himself anymore. The Gods told him secrets and truths, but his own thoughts became quieter and heavier. He was so much more nowadays, but there was a tiny gasp buried deep within that dared to murmur that he had only diminished.

He's gotten used to pushing that doubt away. The Gods assure him of the righteousness of his path, his legacy, his drive to see the False Emperor dashed from his ostentatious chair.

But here, on one of Etheria's twelve moons, standing across from his lone sister, his head is shockingly, disconcertingly ~~mercifully ~~, *quiet*.

The siblings study each other in silence for several moments. This is one of the least developed moons of the dozen, which is no doubt why Adora had chosen it. He briefly wonders if she had rigged it to blow or perhaps intends to repay him and his Sons in kind for Istvaan but dropping nuclear armaments from orbit but dismisses the idea. Adora can be surprisingly ruthless, but she would not dare risk damage to the moons and especially not Etheria and its people.

It is a character trait that makes her predictable but dangerous, much like Vulkan: their love of mortals makes them easy to maneuver, but strikes against them must be fast, hard and final, lest they rise again with greater and overwelming fury and unfortunately, that last part has proven remarkably difficult to overcome.

"You know why I am here," he finally breaks the silence.

Adora's mouth twists. "I do," she acknowledges.

"And?"

Adora takes a half step forward, her honor guard shadowing her every twitch, like children hiding behind their mother's skirts, unwilling to let her be parted from them. He hears Abaddon scoff quietly, his First Captain disgusted at the weakness he perceives.

Horus sees what it truly is. Love, beyond reason or doubt, beyond sense. The Sons of She-Ra love her, with such intensity that to lose her risks triggering a fury to rival that of Angron himself. Of course, perhaps that is not so surprising. The Slave of Nuceria hated so much only because he had once loved so fiercely and completely that its loss had stripped him of all humanity and rendered him little more than a beast.

"You come to me with a proposition. Let me give one instead: turn away from your Rebellion. Disavow the Chaos Gods. Disavow the Emperor. Disavow the butchers and sadists and monsters you've aligned yourself with. And stay here."

Horus blinks, surprised beside himself. An appeal to him hadn't been unexpected. An opportunity to be granted asylum had. "You would welcome me to Etheria?"

"You would have to pay penance. To even *begin* to pay for the crimes you've committed, the atrocities you've done... would take millenia. But you would be free and protected from both the Warp and the Emperor. I would stand with you. You could find redemption. Could help me build a universe of connectivity, communication...love. You could find peace." The Princess of Power slowly extended her hand. "You need only ask."

The voice that has been silenced and stifled for so long under the burning Gaze of Chaos is screaming at him now, louder than it's ever been. He is abruptly aware, for the first time in weeks, how grimy and heavy his armor feels, how hungry and thirsty and tired he feels. He...he cannot remember the last time he ate. Slept.

He looks past his sister, up at the distant glow of Etheria, and remembers the peace of the world. The smiles of children. The brotherhood of Space Marines, learning, training...living. He remembers being...happy.

He looks at his sister's hand, and his soul screams at him to take it.

He swings Worldbreaker instead.

It meets her golden shield in an explosion of rainbow Warp energy, and both Primarchs are pushed back several feet. Their respective sons stumble, and many fall.

Horus looks at her and sees only sadness and pity, and he feels a hate to rival that which he feels for his very Father.

Abaddon must give the order, as the Word Bearer ships and that of Etheria's fleet begin to fire at each other. Adora has her sword now and she's coming towards him but he ~~doesn't want to fight her~~ can't waste time now, not when the Emperor's gaze searches for him and Ultramar's fleets grow closer to reinforcing Terra.

He presses the teleporter on his belt and slams back into his quarters on the *Vengeful Spirit* only to fall to his knees as the protective aura of Etheria's territory disappears and the God's Gazes return to him with renewed focus and force. They see his doubts, his fears and they sooth him even as they shred at him for his impudence.

He does not know how long he kneels in his quarters, body, mind and soul wracked by agony. He only knows his fury is incandescent when a Son arrives to inform him the World Bearer fleet has been defeated and they are in-route to Mars. He dashes the Marine and two dozen serfs against the walls before the rages abates itself even slightly, and as he makes his way ti the bridge he promises himself this:

When the Emperor lies dead at his feet, he will return, with all of his forces, and lay waste to Etheria, until its seas run red, it's sky turns black and Adora's wife is nothing more than a new carpet before his bed.

--------

Well, a different couple were gonna be next, but then I read a little vampire yuricest post, and it really inspired me to make this comic.

I feel you all knew that Hathor and Sanguina would be paired together, but I couldn't quite get what I wanted to do. But hey, it all worked out!

I hope those of you who do enjoy these posts of mine enjoy this one cause I'm pretty proud of it!

I love how the line work turned out on this one!

Could anyone send something nice or cute or generally something that would help me distract myself from a shitstorm I was unexpectedly hit with today? Thanks in advance.

Careful, he bites~

@qcontinuumumum

i am actually insufferable once I get comfortable with someone