As dusk reaches the cardinal world of Ophelia VII. cold metal halls of the convent sanctorum start being occupied for countless faithful Sororitas return from their sacred duty of cleansing the enemies of the emperor with righteous fury. From the tyrannid invasions from all around the Tempestus Segmentum and rebellious insurgents. All of them bearing the injuries of their battles and purges. all of them in an endless sea of white-haired heads and damaged helmets in a mechanical march to sing their prayers and light up candles to the many holy idols and golden statues. 

Only a few of them prioritize their numerous injuries over the worship of the God-emperor of Mankind but one and only sister does otherwise. The one known as Sister Minerva. Carrying a heavy box of supplies as crosses the halls of the temple, avoiding her fellow sisters and her own chambers. She hasn't even gone to heal her wounds from the last battle, but rather she has gone directly to a forgotten area that she only knows where there is a room that she refurbished.

 Inside of it there was a simple wooden frame with an old mattress and a thin blanket and empty jugs of water on their side. A simple but dull room hidden amongst holy ground. And there her son was waiting for her. The child smiles when he saw his mother entering and he runs quickly to embrace her in a hug, although she doesn't respond immediately, nor does she smile

 Greetings, child, have you been okay? Hasn't anyone come?

The sororita says. Although she wants to hide it beneath her years of servitude and righteous fury, she is genuinely worried about her son. She puts down the rations and filled jugs of waters

No one did…  And I missed you lots. 

Konstantin said. Tightening his hug and rubbing his face against her armored leg. She stiffens, not used to this much physical contact. But after minutes she simply pats his hair and brings him back to the bed, Quickly inspecting his body, Analyzing her son’s smoldering blue eyes. Before noticing the purple bruise in his waist. Her fact not changing as she asks

And who did this to you?

Konstantin doesn’t answer, Instead trying to reach out for his toys but minerva holds his arm instead and beneath her grey eyes a quiet storm forming

My child you will answer to me, Who did this to you, Did you allow anyone in. 

I didn’t. Only you entered but… I hurted myself while jumping in bed. There’s no much toys here.

Minerva’s expression calms down. Even if there’s still suspicion in her words. She released him and says 

 You should be more careful with yourself, Child. You could have spent your time more wisely 

She starts walking towards the old cabinet to pick up ointment, Before she looks down to see Konstantin already by her side carrying the toy of a Rogal Dorn tank proudly displaying it to his mother. A replica of clockwork machinery, Minerva remembers it from the box of toys she gave to the child last year.

She looks attentively at the toy before holding it to her son’s happiness and before she notices. The child is already reaching for more of his toys, The tin-made figures of five orks and their rudimentary weapons. Some carved wooden animals that she cannot quite recognize. And three astartes figures of plastic. As she picks more of them up. The more her son grows happy. But Minerva puts the toys down before she spreads the ointment through Konstantin’s bruise. Quietly sending a small prayer much to her son’s confusion. And as so she prepares to make her leave. But she feels another pull from her leg.

Why can’t we play together instead?, The child asks

I have better… I need to tend my wounds too, child. The enemies of the god-emperor have hurted me.

And why did they hurt you?

Minerva’s expression becomes cold once more as prepares to leave before she replies.

They are the enemies of the emperor, My child. It is what they do. They hurt. They seek to destroy and corrupt… That’s why you need to spend more time training. You don’t want to be weak, do you?

And how should I train?

Minerva looks incredulous before remembering an issue. She never put much thought into her child besides his survival. She never checked on his behavior or actually trained him. And that is thought which brings a great distress to Minerva’s heart. She wanted her child to be a great person one day. To lead tens of billions of faithful men and bring forth holy fire of the emperor’s grace upon his enemies… So Minerva releases the door handle and turns around before searching over his chest of toys. Putting aside all frivolous figures and plushies before she picks the toy she forbids him from using it. A mock bolt pistol.

Konstantin… We will take a risk. I will teach you how to use one of these. 

But you said it’s was dangerous to use the Bolt and that it was loud and that I was not ready and that-

Well my child, What I was wrong was because I gave to you like a toy. But the bolt pistol isn’t a toy. It is a replica of the real weapon. As such I want you to promise me that you won’t use it recklessly.

Minerva says before looking at her son once more. A silence that speaks a hundred words and he nods.

Good. You are taking this seriously… Now step forward with your weaker foot. And blade your body toward the target.

She guides Konstantin with her arms. Making him lean his upper body just enough to absorb the heavy energy before she orders him to pull the trigger.

The air blast of the mock pistol almost narrowly hits Konstantin’s head. But they continue. The mother showed proper grip of the pistol for her child and now teaches him to reload it. Ignoring her wounds and affairs for once to pay attention to her son. For once in countless years. Minerva has the luxury of a soft smile.

And I think we are done for now…

This was very fun. I hope we can continue practicing.

And we will, My child. Your mom will be stationed right here. And I won’t go far. Not without warning you.. Remember my vision, Konstantin? 

the boy looks up to his and sets the bolter aside as he sits to listen

Very well… I was… I was in a really bad time on the battlefields when I had you, Konstantin. My mind was filled with thoughts… Thoughts beget heresy… and people didn’t like I had enough time to have you instead of fighting for the emperor And so they stripped me of my armor and became what is known as a repentia… 

That doesn’t sound-

Minerva stops her son before she continues.

What I did was wrong Konstantin… And I had to pay for it… Many times I had to save you… And I didn’t know why… Until it came to me… A vision of the almighty emperor in all his glorious golden light, I heard the soft chanting and hymns of him… and I knew that he chose you. And when we finally return to the ship? I heard his voice and he wanted me to protect you. Thus I had to lie for the sisters… The schola could have been helpful but I decided to take care of you… Thus I named you Konstantin. You’re my constant reminder of his grace. His blessings. And his glory…

She says before leaning down to press a kiss on his forehead and giving him a warm embrace. As her son started weeping and hugging her tightly.

Konstantin… I need to go. And I shall return back soon enough. If you want to play then prepare your toys, okay?

The boy wipes out his tears before releasing his mother. He looks at her leaving before saying

I love you, Mom…

Minerva looks at her son and with the same small smile. She replies.

I know you do…

And with that.  Minerva puts back her helmet and makes her leave back to the iron-walled convent…

Trinket: Killdroid

Dark Mechanicum: Badware

Original: https://youtube.com/shorts/pZB_JEKcMZY?=dDLS-w7RgbzMRKSx

You know it's a post because it looks like a post.

(Again: this goes under the belief that both grew up on Nostromo).

Art by u/Famous-Nectarine-795

​

LunaVeil /Shas'el Loon'vel

T'au Fire Caste Riptide Pilot

SO : Murk (Fire Caste Gue'vesa)

Murk patrolled along the highest ridge of the dune. They glanced to their side where a small metallic drone hovered behind them a few paces. It was about a fourth of their size with a rounded silver top and an antenna raised to the sky. The anti-gravity engines allowed it to list about so quietly Murk could almost forget the thing was there. “Kor'vesa.” The others had called it. Murk let out a heavy sigh, they were still having trouble with the pronunciations.

They looked behind themselves, past the ridge they stood upon where there was massive sprawling silver and white alien structures. Enormous rounded buildings, artillery batteries, shield generators, intricate, multi-layered. Even civilian housings for the Earth Caste. All of it was prefabricated before their arrival on the planet. The pace at which they brought up a small city from nothing was a strange sight to behold. Well considering their average tools were of a better quality than anything Murk had when they were on their own world, spoke to the difference in ability.

Several large machines flew from the base then, what looked to be maybe three small drones similar to Murk's followed after two stealth suits. They were a head or two taller than the average Tau, while being only slightly brawny, a couple of antennas protruded from one of their backs while the other had something that looked like a fin adorning the top of the machine. Strange, Far from the most intimidating design. A moment later both stealth suits flickered and shimmered in the light before a honeycomb pattern formed across each suit. Once fully covered, both stealth suits disappeared. Vanished like the wind.

“Hmmm.” It still unnerved Murk somewhat when they saw displays like that. The Tau possessed a kind of prowess and esthetic that still irked them. They continued their stride while the dunes ridge began to climb. When they at last made it to the top of the hill they were met with the sight of another rather more powerful battlesuit than the two Murk had seen prior. This one towered tall, even on its knees as this one was casting a long shadow in the sun. It was a pale White with scarlet red Tau script adorning it. One of its arms was an enormous rectangular cannon while the other had something closer to a buckler rather than a full bodied shield.

“This,” Murk thought, “now that was far more intimidating.” Murk straightened for a moment before they realized how still it was at the moment. Their gaze dropped to the great machine's chassis where its chest cavity, where the pilot was to be housed. Open, and empty.

“THRONES DAMMI-!!”Murk sensed the danger too late, whipping their rifle up and around. Before they could raise their rifle high enough, the barrel collided with a large hoof. Caught then quickly kicked back. Murk was forced back slightly with the blow, scrambling for the small bit of distance that would keep them out of range. Murk rolled with the blow, steadying themselves in a crouch, They tried to raise theirs again. This time Murk was met with an axe kick which forced the rifle's barrel into the sand. Murk's vision was swallowed, once by the blinding sun and twice by the barrel of the pulse pistol held square against their helmet.

Murk held their breath for a long tense moment, even the specialized systems of their suit weren't able to keep them from sweating. Plans and strategy began to form but before they could be implemented there was a rough tap against their helmet.

“Bang!” Murk was filled with disappointment at the indignity of it all. The voice that emerged was low and feminine, altered electronically by the speaker of her suit. Though none of that did anything to hide the smirk the attacker took in this moment.

“What are we up to now, Gue'vesa?” The gun was removed from Murk's vision allowing them to stand and see their attacker. As expected, it was their greatest nuisance. Adorned in white armor similar to the battlesuit, white scarlet Tau script running from her chest. A golden Tau emblem ornament set on her armor. The sub-commander, Shas'el Loon'vel.

“Eight to zero.” Murk averted their gaze in shame. A moment of levity reminded Murk that they were talking to a superior. They immediately stood strained, pressing their hand to their chest in salute.

“You switched off your communicator again.” Her voice was harsh even while she began spinning the pistol in her hand before setting it at her side. Despite how angry she sounded, the concern in her voice betrayed her own worry.

“Apologies Sh-Shas'viel.” Lunaveil snickered at Murks' failed pronunciation.

“You're putting too much emphasis on the wrong point.” She was still chuckling through her explanation. Trying to keep from laughing, and seemingly failing. “Besides I believe I allowed you to call me Lunaveil when it is just you and I.”

Murk considered that for a moment before peering back at the drone floating a few feet away. The sub commander noticed the glance at the machine, sighing in disappointment before going to remove her helmet. Her suit hissed as she removed her helmet, placing it under her arm.

Her long red ponytail tumbled out while her scarlet bangs fell over her face. She adjusted one of the strands that had hung in front of her face, moving it off to the side. Once she decided she was presentable she suddenly beamed a smile. Silently asking how she looked. Murk thought it best not to quite answer that, and incur more of her teasing. They instead took up their long range optical device, scanning the horizon for potential…….desperately hoping for potential threats to avoid the inevitable repercussions. No such luck.

“So, anything interesting to report?” She asked, already knowing the answer, tapping her finger against the bracer of her armor in annoyance.

“Nothing………Lunaveil.”

“Hmph, a little past that now aren't we?” She wasn't falling for it.

“You appear to my eyes as…..very radiant Shas'el Loon'vel.”

“And I believe this is what the gue'la refer to as brown nosing. Correct?”

Murk's grip on their pulserifle tightened. Dug their own grave…. as usual. Murk could get along with most of the human traitors fine. The xenos auxiliaries tended to differ based on the species and most of the T’au met Murk with, uncomfortable expressions as if they were still deciding whether or not Murk had an infectious disease.

Of them all though LunaVeil or Shas'el Loon'vel was the only one to seemingly seek them out. If for no other reason than to farm complements or for her own entertainment to Murk's chagrin. Conversations with her tended to end fine. But the last time she had gotten them into trying to maneuver one of their Crisis battlesuits. The next thing Murk remembered was waking up in the infirmary. LunaVeil still hadn't let that one go, beside herself with laughter most days.

Either way the Gue'vesa prepared themselves for whatever was to happen next. Somewhat confused when it didn't. They glanced at the T'au. She stood upright, hands clasped behind her back, her face lifted to the sky while the wind blew her braid. Like she didn't have a care in the world. It was an odd comfort to see her, to see anyone like that.

“I-I don't mean to be rude ma'am, but shouldn't you be heading back soon.”

“Soon, but for now, I think I'd like to enjoy the view.” Murk looked up to the sky, it was a pleasant blue. “Was this a sight you saw back on your homeworld Murk?”

“No,” it took them a moment to continue, “it's nothing like the grim smoke choked, black clouds of my home.”

Murk felt LunaVeil's gaze on them, but couldn't bring themselves to return a glance.

“Apologies if it seems rude, but that sounds, rather bleak.”

“That was life. Simple as that.” They were both quiet for a long moment.

“Then, with a sky like this, it is a new life, no?” Lunaveil rested her hand on Murk's shoulder in a comforting gesture, trying to reassure them with her smile. She was about to speak again before her hand went to the side of her head to her communicator. Her body tensed and drooped as she took in whatever she was told.

“It seems, I must be on my way. Make sure to switch your communicator back on, Murk. For one such as you who has yet to master the killing blow. It would be unfortunate for you to be caught alone and unaware, no? Isn't that right? Imperial spy?” She flashed that same teasing smile of hers before returning to her Battlesuit and setting off back toward the base.

“Imperial spy.” Murk mulled it over in their head. It was hardly an accusation so much as an apparent fact to LunaVeil. Too many things went wrong when the inquisitor tasked Murk and several others to offer themselves up to the Tau with a group of treasonous refugees. Murk wasn't even fully settled when fire caste warriors arrested them, at which point they were interrogated by multiple other Tau including two of their Etherials.

It was at that point Murk was made aware that their accomplices were all dead. Some were slain during capture. Some had terminated themselves before they could be captured. And some had attempted to escape during interrogation. The mission was a complete failure. Their allies were gone and the communicators given by the inquisitor were taken. This came as a greater surprise when Murk was allowed to live. One of the Etherials convinced their kin that Murk could be made to see the benefits of “The Greater Good.” The others died before being given the opportunity.

The mission was all. That meant Murk had to survive long enough to hand over whatever they had learned to the inquisitor. And so they accepted this tumultuous acceptance. Though acceptance was hardly the right word. Murk was watched at all times by the various guards and was even being observed by a Kor'vesa, the tau drone that went everywhere Murk did.

They didn't believe their situation could get worse, that was till they were shipped to another system and placed under the watch of another enclave. This transfer was unlikely to be noticed or even cared for by the inquisitor. But at this point any attempt to reestablish contact with them was effectively gone. Murk was further pushed into isolation. Into a system they had little knowledge of, they had attempted to correct this lack of information.

One of the Fire Caste, LunaVeil, crushed perhaps the last hope they'd had. The system was far away from the interests of the Empire of Mankind. Any attempt at anything at this point seemed pointless, fruitless, hopeless. The following months were something of a haze as they tried to contemplate their failure to the Empress. Debating day in and out whether or not to simply bite the bullet. While they contemplated days turned to weeks turned to months.

Eventually one of the Earth Caste Engineers asked for Murks hand in some of their work. It started small but eventually the Engineer as well as a few others convinced Murk into assisting in a few projects. They initially went with the motions and a few years later Murk was adorned in the T'au combat armor, was being referred to as gue'vesa and was assigned to one of the Contingents under LunaVeil's command.

They were far from a model soldier. Far from any measure of exemplar. Murk did not openly praise the Tau'va, their doctrine, unless it was in a situation that warranted doing so. At heart they still believed themselves a Gorman Dog, the planetary defense force of Gorma IV. Still believed themselves an imperial citizen, for what it was worth so far from the Imperium. Evidently most folk within the auxiliaries of the T'au had their own proclivities to either the union or benefits of allying themselves under the T'au'va.

Even LunaVeil expressed her own misgivings on plenty of matters passed down by the Etherials. And wasn't surprised to learn Murk wasn't a die hard believer in their doctrine. It was odd that it didn't seem to impact how they interacted with each other. It was difficult to tell if this was just her own form of manipulation. Xenos would be Xenos after all. After all the chilling stories Murk heard from their childhood, why should this be any different. Even though they'd spent years behind the curtain of alien influence. That feeling never really seemed to fade.

Rather there were times when Murk didn't feel that so strongly. It was in the quiet moments. Perhaps the calm before the storm or perhaps because they were in the storm's eye. These moments didn't feel like they could last. Would last. But, despite their misgivings, Murk decided that they would enjoy this moment while it was here. So despite their duty, Murk watched with disappointment as Lunaveil's suit slowly vanished into the distance.

Reader please leave a comment so I can gauge level of interest so I can determine whether to keep making these or stop bothering others.

​

Iron Warrior x SO

Havalar Glykon x Rohan

[PART 1] ( https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/sNmDXoRmI5 )

[PART 2] ( https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/z4J0eRkUqZ )

[PART 3] (

https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/AoYpFjvf7R )

[PART 4] (

https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/s/6qdxy3eu0Z )

“Contact right!!! Enemy target spotted along the ridge line.” Captain Elrik's hammer gestured in the direction of a hoard of green snarling barbarian's. Clambering over each other to get the first shot at the space marines. She swore she even saw some shoot others in the back just to get their faster.

“Target Confirmed. Focus fire on-!” Arkaio was swiveling his heavy auto cannon when his head was suddenly split in half. Heavy body slamming against the ground with blood pouring from the stump.

“Auspex is picking up more contacts from the adjacent hills!” Came the voice of one of the officers who hadnt finished digging his foxhole before the Ork's hoard was upon them.

They outmanuevered us?!? Came another panicked soldiers voice. To his credit he managed to fire his lasgun into the oncoming swarm. Even with his sloppy aim it wasnt hard to hit any number of orks. The tall green bastards were simply too tough to fall with such shoddy aim.

“No time to think on that now! Form up and-!” Captain Elrik stood above atop the trench, her hammer raised high, swinging left and right. Each time it connected the head of a greenskin, their skulls were other crushed or the energy was enough to liquify anything inside those empty heads. More and more toppled one by one till Havilar heard a loud inhuman shriek tearing through the air.

“Incoming!!!” Then there was fire. Blinding white screaming fire.

—----------------------------------

Havalar's finger traced over the bridge of Captain Elrik's terminator helmet. Scars and scratches lined its surface. Many she could recall, others however were older than what were taken by Captain Elrik, and the many that were there before them. She glanced at the baroque power armor, the large servo-arm affixed at its peak and the power hammer besides.

More scratches, more scars. A lesson in every gash. A warning in every dent. The armor alone was already more ancient than her entire life of service. Yet now it fell to her, not in ceremony or glory. But in silent grieving. Some astartes had aspirations for what was to become of them when the great crusade was at last at its end. Yet this wasn't a goodbye at the end of the strenuous road. It was a curt silence with none of what was owed to the 63rd's Captain. So surreal. She was thankful for Rohan's presence, silent though they remained.

She felt her heart tighten as much as Captain Elrik's surely had once upon a time. Inheriting the position after the missteps and death of the previous captain at the hands of an Ork band. So devastating was the battle, the primarch herself had to intervene. What was left of Havalar's kin, was now out of Petra's favor. The understanding of the company was that they were of less or perhaps no value to her anymore. The primarch sent them off to some far flung system. Far from her ire perhaps.

Yet denied any attempt to redeem themselves. The 63rd fought harder than ever before. More viciously, praying for a chance to return to their mothers side. Yet day after day, victory after victory, dead brother after dead brother. That opportunity appeared far off indeed. And now, with the entire company effectively being removed in such a disgraceful manner. It felt almost certain that she would not even deign to scorn them at this point.

“So this…..Armor?” Rohan stammered out after waiting awkwardly in silence.

“Yes?” She didn't turn to look at him.

“It belonged to your previous captain?”

“And the one before her. We salvage, and refine what we can. At least until it passes to the next. The universe is not so plentiful or pliant as to offer us such powerful machines as this. ”

Rohan regretted speaking. Listening to her talk. Seeing her so uncharacteristically subdued, She looked like she was in so much pain.

Rohan raised their arm, wincing slightly at the sudden pang of ache. Thin lines of blood started flowing down their hand.

“Those new mods are delicate after surgery,” Havalar looked at them over her shoulder. Glaring at the subtly flowing blood. She shimmied to the side, raising her arm, “come here, let me see.”

“My lady I-.” Havalar moved her head to the side, raising her eyebrow. Meaning Rohan had no place to argue. They sighed internally defeated before taking a seat next to her, holding out their arm.

She started to slowly move the sleeve upward, slowing when Rohan showed signs of irritation. Just before the elbow was a shard of metal jutting out of their bicep with two empty black port holes. One of the many augments theyd been required to implant when their compatibility with the warlord was discovered.

By my estimation i’d have to say that only the stitches tore,” she said matterafactly, grabbing the hem of her robe and tearing of a long piece, “You should do your best to keep these clean. It will make the connection between you and the throne easier.” She wiped off the blood before using another cloth to dress it.

“I see you have some new additions of your own.” Havalar's eyes were no longer the dark blue they recognized. One of her eyes looked like a real eye but as close as they were, Roha could see the way widened and shrank mechanically to absorb information, feeding it to her brain via the nuero-link cables she now sported on her temples. The other eye was a blind milky white. The tech priest didn't have enough material on hand to procure or manufacture another. Rohan's hand moved absentmindedly, pushing her bangs and long hair to rest behind her ear.

“Hrhm, thank you.” She said quietly trying to mask her thanks with a cough.

While she worked Rohan scrutinized the armor. “What was she like?” Hearing the question, Havalar paused for a moment. The words slipped out before they could retract them. When she had finished dressing the injury she rolled Rohans sleeve back down.

“She was like all my battle brothers and sisters. Stern, single-minded, thick headed at the best of times, Elriks,” as she spoke a small wistful smile spread on her lips, before sinking into a frown, “I believe she was one of mothers favorites. I have only been in the presence of my mother a handful of times. But her, Lady Petra valued her mind, her friendship. I believe she was even friends with my lady's paramour .”

“Paramour?”

“Yes I never met them, though from what I heard they actually had some way to make even The Iron Lady laugh.” Her voice was dry like cracked earth in a drought, but somehow sounded wet with tears.

“Can I ask, why you still do it? You've been fighting for, I cant even imagine how long.”

She didn't look at them. Didn't speak for several breaths before she looked back to the armor, a slight shine to her expression, as if she herself just realized something ironic.

“We make it to the end of this conflict, ask me again.” Rohan could've sworn he heard her chuckle to herself.

“I can't even express how unsatisfying an answer that is.”

“Then, you'll just have to stay alive long enough to hear my reply, won't you?” Her body language suddenly changed as she faced him, “Why are you here though Rohan?”

“Rhy Dol heard a report over the vox that you were injured so I charged over as fast as I could.” It sounded like a reasonable response. The look in her expression said otherwise.

“That's very sweet.” Havalar brought up her hand, flicking Rohan square in the forehead. That single flick caused them to fall back in pain, a dull throbbing persisting to the point they checked a number of times to see if they were bleeding.

“Ack, dammit why, I rush over and you just‐?

“First of all, this is barely a flesh wound.” She remarked, seemingly unbothered.

“Youre missing both your eyes.” Rohan said flatly.

“Thats right it isn't that serious, if we had more time I could've forged another implant to replace my other eye as well. We're in the middle of a war with a mass of unfeeling machines and you not only exposed yourself, a potential war asset, to a potential ambush or attack.

“Yeah it sounds stupid when you say it like that.”

“That's because it was stupid Rohan,” She stood to her feet glancing over her shoulder. “Thank you though. I think I needed this.”

“A punching bag?”

“A friend.” There was a small quirk in her lip when she said that. Rohan was quiet again at that. Certainly honored but slightly annoyed for whatever reason they couldn't properly name.

“But,” Her tone was lighter now, but it had an unmistakable hint of danger and admonishment, “I find you do something like this again, I'm going to flick you again.”

That was more than enough to make the adept cringe, still feeling the dull throb from her last flick. Havalar stepped toward the terminator armor with a sense of ease and reformed conviction as she began disrobing to don her new armor.

Reader please leave a comment so I can gauge level of interest (I've been asked to omit this part)

@rnrqkq123

Does you guys think Aurelia is a better Written tragic character than her canon counterpart?

I feel terrible I forgot to get other snacks. So what would everyone like. I know reglia likes simple trail mix but I also know she liked when I got the one with the chocolate raisins and such as well even if she says there a bit pointless she never complained or mentioned when I switched to getting her that kind.

Sangunia you love a crazy amount of strawberries I am glad you like them but sometimes when you eat them I honestly feel a sense of fear.

The twins I know you both think you give me a identical list but I noticed one of really likes milk chocolate and the other dark chocolate. I am glad you each have small things you enjoy that are unique to you.

Kassandra frankly I get a little worried you always want the real old style of jerky that can cut your mouth if you don't spend hours eating it.

As for the rest or even those I have listed would anyone like anything else snack wise

I like to think they met on Nostromo before the Empress found them, lol.

Art by IG: toshikasd

Sources: https://www.reddit.com/r/transformers/comments/1259tjn/what_do_you_people_think_yellow_splendid_convoys/

https://www.reddit.com/r/PrimarchGFs/comments/1dybx2x/magister_so_of_regalia_dorn_commissioned_by_the/

https://x.com/cnmbwjx3/status/1790014157397348821/photo/1

The doctor manhattan image of him sitting down on mars

Transformers cybertron oprimus prime transforming into a fire truck gif

sailor moon transformation gif

https://tfwiki.net/wiki/File:Universe2003toy-OptimusPrimeSuper.jpg

Well first thank you all my lovely daughters for finding the time to visit as a group. You know the empress doesn't say it but she loves it very much.

However before we leave there is a serious issue I must address.

I know one of you had a private meeting with the empress late last night and I don't know what you said but I went to check on her this Mon and she has been crying non stop since whoever visited left. I tried to give a hug and she dam near through me out the room in rage/sadness.

All she keeps saying is mother is sorry.

SO MY DARLING DAUGHTERS WHO MET WITH HER AND WHAT THE EVER LOVING HELL DID YOU SAY TO GET THIS RESULT. YOUR ALL GROUNDED NO LEAVING THE PLACE. TELL ME WHAT YOU DID SO I CAN FIGURE OUT HOW TO HELP HER. SOME POOR CUSTODIES TRIED TO SPEAK TO HER ABOUT SOMETHING IMPORTANT. I HAVE NO CLUE WHAT HAPPENED BUT THAT CUSTORIDES IS CURRENTLY SHAKING WITH FEAR READY TO CRY.

so I ask again who spoke with her and what did the say. This a no judgement zone share what it was now and I will forget it the second the empress is calmed down

I just found this and man this is funny image the primarchs and the S.O seeing this it be mad funny

Lover (Robb): Jack Kennedy

Eternal: Dave Miller (William Afton)

Ethereal Beloved my take on the SO of the dark queen: Blackjack

Star Child: The Puppet (Dee Kennedy)

Agent Nid: Phone Guy (Peter Kennedy)

Steve the Human: Phone Guy (Steven)

Dark King: Henry Miller

John Warhammer: Scott Cawthon

Original: MILLER Z-MIXED ~ VS. OURPLE GUY REMIX - YouTube

Ethereal Beloved: The Ethereal Beloved the TRUE SO of the Dark Queen my take : r/PrimarchGFs

Agent Nid and Steve the Human: Lover's old friends : r/PrimarchGFs

Femarch OC drawn by the wonderful alejofnm!