#Vessel Collision

[milkdongcomics]

International Freshwater Dolphin Day 2024 國際淡水豚日 CONSTRUCTION DOLPHIN in "HEY HUMAN, SEE WHAT YOU DO!?" BUY 👈🏻 Instagram 👈🏻 Facebook 👈🏻

[shipwreckguy]

Transformer OL

Transformer OL strikes FV BV99778TS; 12 rescued, 2 lost #fishing #collision #vietnam

Photo: gov.vn On September 19, the 169 meter long, 28,375 dwt bulk carrier Transformer OL collided with the fishing vessel BV99778TS some 22 nautical miles southeast of Con Dao, Vietnam. The Transformer OL was headed for Vung Tau from Chittagong when it struck the fishing vessel. The BV99778TS capsized and partially sank sending all of its 14 crew into the sea. The nearby fishing boats, BV99359TS…

[youthchronical]

Ship owner says arrested captain of cargo vessel involved in North Sea collision is Russian - The Times of India

LONDON: The captain of a cargo ship that collided with a US tanker is a Russian national who remains in UK police custody, the vessel’s owner said Wednesday. The 59-year-old man, who hasn’t been named by authorities, was arrested by police in northeast England Tuesday on suspicion of manslaughter by gross negligence over the collision. He hasn’t been charged. Shipping company Ernst Russ, which…

[uamariner]

#149 Colreg card. Ship's navigation daytime shapes and action to avoid c...

[slyandthefamilybook]

okay because I'm seeing some misinfo, here's the story on the Key Bridge collapse

What was the Key Bridge?

The Francis Scott Key Bridge (also called the Key Bridge, the Beltway Bridge, and the Outer Harbor Crossing) was steel-arch continuous-through-truss bridge spanning the Patapsco River south of the Baltimore Harbor. The bridge took 5 years to build and cost an estimated $145 million ($735 million in today's dollars). The full bridge project (including approaches) was 10.9 miles long, but the stretch over the Patapsco was 1.6 miles long and 4 lanes wide, and comprised a length of I-695, the Baltimore Beltway. It traveled between Hawkins Point and Dundalk, and in addition to the I-895 Harbor Tunnel was the primary way for Marylanders to cross from the Eastern Shore to the West. The bridge carried an estimated 11.5 million vehicles per year. There is a lane for ships to pass under the Key Bridge with enough clearance.

Was it structurally sound?

The bridge received its latest inspection in 2022 and received a 6/9 score, which is considered "fair" by federal standards. There was a concern with one of its columns, which was downgraded from a health index of 77.8 to 65.9, but it is not clear yet if this was one of the columns struck by the ship. In 1980 the bridge was struck by a different cargo ship which destroyed a concrete support structure, but the bridge itself was unharmed. There is as of yet no evidence that the bridge collapsed because of poor condition. Experts say the lesson to be learned is about the size and weight of modern cargo ships, and that the bridge was not to blame. Engineers have noted, however, that the bridge's piers lacked protective devices such as fenders.

What was the ship?

The MV Dali is a container ship flying the Singapore flag. It is owned by Grace Ocean Private Ltd. and operated by Synergy Marine Group Ltd. The ship is currently being chartered by Maersk, a Dutch shipping company. It was built in 2015 by Hyundai. The ship is 980 feet long and 157 feet wide. The ship's gross tonnage (its internal volume) is 95,128 tons (190,256,000 pounds). Its deadweight (the weight of cargo it can carry) is 116,851 tons (233,702,000 pounds). The ship was carrying 3,000 containers. The engine is a MAN-B&W 9S90ME putting out 41,480 kilowatts (55,626 horsepower).

Over its lifetime the Dali has been inspected 27 times, and only 2 faults were ever found. On June 27, 2023 the Dali was held in port in Chile due to an issue with the propulsion system. According to an inspector the pressure gauges on the heating system were "unreadable". The fault was fixed before the ship left port.

The Dali is crewed by 22 Indian nationals including 2 maritime pilots.

What happened?

The Dali arrived at the Port of Baltimore on March 23, 2024. At 12:44 AM on March 26, 2024 the Dali left port, beginning its journey to Colombo, Sri Lanka. At 01:26 AM the ship suffered a "complete blackout" and began to drift out of the shipping lane. It is not yet known what caused the electrical failure. The backup generator did not power the propulsion system. At around 01:26 AM the crew of the Dali sent a mayday distress call to the Maryland Department of Transportation (MDOT) informing them of the loss of power and that a collision with the Key Bridge was possible. The anchors were dropped as an emergency measure to attempt to slow or stop the vessel. At the request of one of the pilots traffic flow over the bridge was immediately halted. Black smoke was seen coming from the Dali, which experts believe was the result of the crew managing to restart the power system to regain some maneuvering capability.

At 01:28 AM the Dali, traveling at 8 knots (considered to be a fast speed) collided with a support strut beneath the Key Bridge's metal truss at the southwest end of the bridge. A Baltimore resident said he heard the collision and that it "felt like an earthquake". Emergency teams began receiving 911 calls at 01:30 AM, and the Baltimore Police Department were alerted at 01:35 AM. One of the officers present radioed that he was going to go onto the bridge to alert the construction crew as soon as a second officer arrived, but the bridge collapsed seconds later.

What was the damage?

The Key Bridge has completely collapsed. The metal truss relies on structural tension from the bridge itself to maintain its rigidity. As soon as one of the support columns was destroyed, the rest of the bridge quickly followed.

The damage to the Dali is reported as minimal. The ship was impaled by the bridge's structure above the waterline, but has maintained watertight integrity. The crew has not reported any water contamination from its 1.8 million gallons of marine fuel. 13 containers carrying potentially hazardous material were damaged, and are being inspected by a team of Coast Guard divers. At least 5 vehicles including 3 passenger cars and a cement mixer were detected underwater, but authorities do not believe they were occupied

Who was hurt?

The crew of the Dali reports no casualties, except one crewmember who was hospitalized for minor injuries. There was a crew of 8 construction workers on the Key Bridge filling in potholes. 2 were immediately pulled from the water by rescue crews, with 1 being rushed to emergency care and the other reporting minor injuries and refusing treatment. The hospitalized worker has since been discharged. 1 of those rescued was Mexican. The remaining 6 remain missing. Of those 6, 2 have been identified:

Miguel Luna from El Salvador

Maynor Yassir Suazo Sandoval from Honduras

Of the remaining 4, 2 are Guatemalan nationals. Neither have been identified, but the Guatemalan Foreign Affairs Ministry has stated that they were a 26-year-old from San Luis, Petén, and a 35-year-old from Camotán, Chiquimula. The other 2 are presumed to be Mexican.

Rescue Efforts

The Coast Guard was immediately deployed for search-and-rescue operations. Military Blackhawk helicopters were seen over the river. Rescue efforts were ended at 07:30 PM on March 26, 2024 due to darkness, fog, and cold temperatures. Rear Admiral Shannon Gilreath said "Based on the length of time that we've gone in the search, the extensive search efforts that we put into it, the water temperature -- at this point, we do not believe that we're going to find any of these individuals still alive". Recovery operations resumed at 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 with all 6 workers presumed dead.

No divers have yet entered the water underneath the bridge. Supervisory Special Agent Brian Hudson of the FBI's Underwater Search and Evidence Response Team said "the debris field is pretty sizable and I know that’s why they’re hesitant to send divers down because some of the debris is still shifting, the heavy weight of the rocks". The FBI has deployed Remotely Operated Vehicles (ROVs) equipped with cameras and SONAR.

Aftermath

At 05:08 AM on March 26, 2024 Transportation Secretary Pete Buttegiege posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"I’ve spoken with Gov. Moore and Mayor Scott to offer USDOT’s support following the vessel strike and collapse of the Francis Scott Key bridge. Rescue efforts remain underway and drivers in the Baltimore area should follow local responder guidance on detours and response."

At 07:30 AM on March 27, 2024 President of the Maryland State Senate Bill Ferguson posted on X (formerly Twitter):

"Over 15,000 in the Balt region rely on daily operations at Port of Baltimore to put food on the table. Today, with Del. @LukeClippinger and colleagues representing Port, we are drafting an emergency bill to provide for income replacement for workers impacted by this travesty."

At around 09:40 AM on March 26, 2024 Maryland Governor Wes Moore and Baltimore Mayor Brandon Scott declared a State of Emergency to take effect at 10:30 AM March 26, 2024, and to last 30 days. Baltimore's Emergency Operations Plan was put into effect.

More than 1,000 personnel from the US Army Corps of Engineers (USACE) have been deployed to assist with clearing the debris and rebuilding efforts. President Joe Biden has pledged that the federal government will pay for the entire reconstruction of the bridge.

Jennifer Homendy, the chair of the National Transportation Safety Board (NTSB) has recovered the Dali's data recorder, and will be inspecting both the Key Bridge and the Dali to determine the cause of the crash and the collapse. She says the investigation could take up to 2 years to complete.

Was it intentional?

According to William DelBagno, head of the FBI's Baltimore field office: "There is no specific or credible information to suggest there are ties to terrorism in this incident".

Secretary of Homeland Security Alejandro Mayorkas said: "There are no indications this was an intentional act".

At least 3 people have been killed in accidents related to ships operated by Synergy in the past 6 years. In 2018 a person on board a Synergy ship in Australia was killed in an accident relating to the vessel's personnel elevator. In 2019 an officer aboard a Synergy vessel in Singapore fell overboard while performing maintenance. In 2023 at least one sailor was killed when a Synergy ship collided with a dredging ship in the Philippines. In the first two cases safety inspectors noted that proper safety procedures had not been adhered to.

Sources

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

[theknightlywolfe]

[leriexoxo]

SKZ HEADCANON SERIES (18+)

Chapter 3: Changbin - The Gym Nemesis

OT8 SERIES MASTERLIST

This work contains mature themes, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!!

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The moment you stepped into the gym, you knew trouble was waiting.

Seo Changbin was already there—Bang Chan’s golden boy bestie. Mr. Grunt-and-Flex. With his thick arms, cocky smirk, and the audacity to critique your form like he was your trainer—ripping through a set of heavy dumbbells with ease, muscles taut and glistening under the fluorescent lights. His intense focus made it clear: this was his domain. And you were an intruder.

You weren’t intimidated. If anything, it made you want to push harder. You loaded your own weights with a deliberate clack, eyes daring him to say something.

He didn’t disappoint.

“Hey,” he called out, voice low and rough like gravel. “That’s my spot.”

You didn’t flinch. “First come, first served.”

His eyes darkened with challenge as he finished his set. “You think you can keep up?”

You rolled your shoulders, smirking. “Try me.”

—

How he really began to piss you off had started with the squat rack.

Specifically, how he was always on it when you needed it—and how you always managed to snag it right before he could.

“You know, if your knees cave like that, you’ll be out with an injury by next month.”

“And if you flex in the mirror any harder, your ego’s gonna pop a blood vessel.”

From day one, it was on.

Every gym session was a battle. You’d race to warm up faster than him. He’d purposely add weight next to you to make you look bad. He called you “Princess.” You called him “Meathead.” Everyone at the gym knew it. Hell, some were taking bets on when you two would snap and just fuck already.

Because the tension? Nuclear.

Every time he wiped sweat off his neck with a low grunt, you felt it in your spine. And he wasn’t subtle about his eyes dragging down your legs when you did hip thrusts. You both hated each other—or pretended to.

No one made you feel more infuriated. Or more alive.

⸻

The turning point happened on a Sunday.

The gym was almost empty. Rainy outside. Just you and him in the training studio with mats, mirrors, and way too much space for trouble.

You’d just beat his ass in reps—again.

He was breathless, grinning, and smug as hell.

“Still think you can take me?” you asked.

He stepped forward. “Wanna bet?”

You smirked. “Loser buys smoothies.”

He lunged. You moved.

And just like that—it was on.

Playful wrestling turned into rolling across the mats, limbs tangled, breathless laughter turning sharp. Your chest pressed to his back. His thighs caged your hips. You were both grunting and gasping, muscles straining. The room smelled like sweat, heat, and something much heavier.

You straddled him to pin his wrists.

He flipped you in a second, breath hot against your cheek, both of you panting. His hands dug into the mat beside your head, and your legs wrapped tight around his hips before you could think to stop them.

Silence.

His forehead touched yours, sweaty and close. Your lips inches apart. Heartbeat like a war drum.

“…Say you don’t want me,” he whispered.

Your breath caught.

“Say it,” he dared, voice rough.

You didn’t.

Couldn’t.

And then?

You grabbed his shirt and dragged him down to kiss you.

The kiss was a collision. Months of tension exploded between your teeth. Tongues clashing, mouths open and panting, hands in hair, on skin, under clothes. He moaned into your mouth, low and primal, grinding down against your core through his sweats.

“Fuck—” he gasped. “You drive me insane.”

You shoved him back just enough to pull off your shirt, and his eyes devoured you.

He cupped your breasts through your sports bra, thumbing over your nipples with an audible groan, before peeling the bra off entirely and sucking one into his mouth. Your hips lifted off the mat. You were gasping now—writhing under him while he kissed his way down your chest, licking sweat like it tasted better coming from you.

Changbin’s lips crushed down onto yours—hard, possessive, urgent. His hands roamed, grabbing your hips and lifting you so your legs wrapped around his waist.

His muscular arms held you like you weighed nothing as he pressed you against the cold gym wall.

You gasped, breath hitching as his tongue slid into your mouth, exploring, tasting. His body was rock-solid against you, burning with raw energy.

His hands slid under your breasts, fingers tracing the curves of your ribs and back. The sharp contrast of sweat and skin sent jolts through you.

“You’re so fucking wet for me,” he growled, lips brushing your jaw. “I’ve been watching you—wanting you—every damn day.”

His hands slipped lower, tugging your leggings down over your hips.

You moaned when his mouth dropped to your collarbone, biting lightly before moving lower.

His tongue flicked over your skin, worshipping every inch like a sacred ritual.

When he finally slipped a finger inside your slick heat, you arched, trembling against him.

“Fuck,” he cursed, adding more fingers, curling them expertly.

You rocked your hips, desperate for more friction.

“Tell me you want me,” he whispered.

“I want you,” you gasped, voice shaking.

His grin was savage. “Say it again.”

“I want you,” you repeated, louder, breathless.

Changbin’s hands were everywhere—gripping, kneading, marking you as his.

He dropped to his knees, his breath hot and ragged as he slid his tongue deep inside you.

Your hands gripped his hair, pulling him closer, panting his name.

His mouth worked you open, licking and sucking like he was claiming you.

“Louder,” he urged.

Your cries bounced off the gym mirrors as you came undone beneath him, shuddering and gasping.

But he wasn’t finished.

Standing up, he ripped off his shirt, muscles flexing and gleaming with sweat.

“You ready for the real workout?” he growled.

You didn’t hesitate to pull his sweatpants down, fingers wrapping around his thick cock.

He hissed as you took him in your hand, slow and deliberate.

Then he slammed into you—deep, fast, hard.

The wall thudded as your bodies slammed together.

“Fuck, you’re tight,” he growled, gripping your hips, lifting you higher as he fucked you like he was trying to tear you apart.

Every thrust was wild and relentless, every growl a promise you couldn’t resist.

“Say my name,” he demanded, voice rough and broken.

“Changbin,” you cried, arching into him.

When you came again, he followed seconds later, growling deep in your ear.

You collapsed against the wall, sweat mingling, breaths heavy.

He pulled you close, fingers tracing lazy circles on your back.

“I don’t know how this turned from enemy to this,” he admitted, voice soft.

You smiled, tired but satisfied.

“Maybe enemies just need the right fight.”

He kissed you deeply, promising more battles ahead.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Taglist: @tsunderelino @innieandsungielover @inlovewithstraykids @reignessance @jeonismm @sttnficrecs @herejusttemporary @krssliu @kenia4 @miilquetoast @thackery-blinks @leeminho-hall @suga-is-bae @butterflydemons @inejghafawifesblog @malunar28replies @minchanlimbo @mal-lunar-28 @breakmeofftbr @itvenorica124 @slut4junho @deepblueocean97 @thequibbie @yaorzu-blog @imagine-all-the-imagines @just-bria @mischievousleeknow @ifyxu @melanctton @thelostprincessofasgard @binniebb @sillylittlecat1 @darkwitchoferie @m-325 @headfirstfortoro @imseungminsgf @ihrtlix @vernorica123 @hwangjoanna @swordswallower2000 @niki007 @yxna-bliss @firelordtsuki @justwonder113 @mbioooo0000 @sammhisphere @nebugalaxy @cutecucumberkimberly @chancloud8 @sunflwerstar

[shane-west]

APRIL 14th 1912 - TITANIC HITS THE ICEBURG

During the course of the day, the Titanic was sent numerous warnings about the iceberg from other vessels, the first warning sent from the Caronia at 9.00am. A total of five warnings were sent . On the same day the first scheduled lifeboat drill was cancelled by Captain Edward Smith without explanation - meaning that the crew were unrehearsed in what to do when the time came. At 5.50pm Titanic changes course from south west to due west. This was originally planned to occur at 5.30pm but was delayed to allow Titanic to travel further south in an attempt to avoid the ice region reported by the Baltic. This change should have directed the Titanic into an area of the gulf stream that would be free of icebergs; in any normal year this would be the case, but 1912 was not a normal year for ice – cold water had pushed the warm gulf stream further south – and the change in direction actually put the ship on a collision course with the iceberg.

At 9.40pm Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips receives the fifth and final ice warning, from the SS Mesaba, warning of a “great number” of large icebergs and field ice just 15 miles ahead of the Titanic. Because the message was not prefixed with MSG – the signifier that the communique was intended for the captain – Phillips treated it as non-urgent, failed to pass the message on, and returned to the busy task of sending passengers’ personal telegrams.

At 11.39pm The iceberg lies just 1,000 yards ahead, but the moonless conditions mean the lookouts cannot see it. 30 seconds later and Frederick Fleet spots the iceberg, calling the bridge to proclaim, “Iceberg, right ahead!”, but it is too late to avoid a collision. At 11.40pm Titanic hits the iceberg, hitting the starboard bow. Many passengers and crew sleep through the collision whilst many others – including lookout man Fleet – assume the ship has survived a glancing blow and is undamaged.

[bl3upi3]

A Night to Remember | Monkey D. Luffy

Part 2

Summary: In the midst of a disaster at sea, your crew encounters the Straw Hat Pirates led by Monkey D. Luffy. After initial skepticism, you accept their help, and amidst the chaos, a deep connection forms between you and Luffy. The night brings passion, revealing mutual feelings.

Warnings: 18+ Minors DNI. Smut, p in v unprotected (I'm bad with warnings)

A/N: This is straight out of my imagination. I just watched the live action and am thinking of starting the anime so yes, this work is a messy mix of anything and everything. English is not my first language so I'm sorry if there are any mistakes. I tried not to change Luffy's personality as much as I could. (My requests are open if wanted)

As you and your crew sailed through the unpredictable waters of the Grand Line, the tranquility of the day shattered in an instant. A violent collision rocked the sturdy vessel as it struck an unyielding underwater rock, tearing through the boat's hull with a heart-wrenching screech of rending wood. The impact sent shockwaves of fear rippling through your crew, their faces etched with stark dread as they grasped the gravity of the situation.

Chaos ensued as you scrambled to assess the extent of the damage, your hands slick with seawater as you desperately tried to gauge the severity of the breach. Panic gnawed at your senses, every second feeling like an eternity, and uncertainty hung heavy in the salt-tinged air.

As if orchestrated by the very elements themselves, a thick and disorienting fog descended upon you with an eerie swiftness, obscuring your vision and muffling any sounds beyond the boat. It was as though the elements had conspired to further complicate your dire predicament, isolating your vessel in an unsettling cloak of obscurity.

Your heart pounded within your chest as the realization settled in—the lives of your crew hinged upon your quick thinking and resourcefulness. Yet, amidst the silence of the disaster, a creaking sound pierced the air. You yielded your place to a member of your crew to investigate the source of the noise.

As you strained your eyes to peer through the dense fog, a white boat with a sheep-shaped figurehead slowly materialized before you. Your gaze instinctively rose to the flag fluttering from its mast—a skull-headed emblem adorned with a distinctive straw hat—a flag of pirates.

"Hey there! It looks like you could use some help," a figure standing on the edge of the approaching vessel called out.

"Who are you?" you inquired, squinting in an attempt to discern the identity of the mysterious individual.

"I'm Monkey D. Luffy, the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates! The fog swallowed us up, and we stumbled upon your beleaguered vessel, which doesn't seem to be in the best shape," he cheerfully replied.

You and your crew exchanged glances, unsure of how to react to this unexpected turn of events.

With a cautious tone, you responded, "I appreciate your offer, Monkey D. Luffy, but we can't be too careful out here. We've just suffered a terrible collision, and our ship is badly damaged. How can we trust that your intentions are genuine?"

Luffy grinned widely, his boundless energy seemingly undeterred by your skepticism. "I get it; you're being cautious. That's a good trait to have out here. But you've got my word. We're not here to harm you. We're pirates, yeah, but we're not the bad guys!"

As he spoke, Luffy's crew members began to emerge from the fog, appearing on the deck of their ship one by one. Each of them had a distinct look and demeanor, but there was something about them that suggested they were not the typical ruthless pirates one might encounter.

One of Luffy's crewmates, a man with green hair added, "We're just passing through these waters, and we've had our fair share of adventures. We know what it's like to be in a tight spot. We're offering our help because it's the right thing to do."

You considered their words and looked at your own crew. They were still on edge, but the desperation of your situation was evident. Your ship was taking on water faster than you could bail it out, and the fog showed no signs of dissipating. It was a perilous situation, and you needed all the help you could get.

After a moment of deliberation, you turned back to Luffy and said, "Alright, we'll accept your offer of help. But know this, if there's any treachery or harm intended for my crew, we won't hesitate to defend ourselves."

Luffy's face lit up with excitement "Deal! You won't regret it! We'll get your ship fixed up in no time!"

A wooden plank was placed between the two boats, allowing you and your crew to board the white vessel. Luffy spoke with enthusiasm, "Welcome to the Going Merry," offering his hand for you to shake.

You looked around at his small crew, taking note of each member. However, you didn't shake Luffy's hand just yet. Instead, your gaze settled on his comrades. Luffy followed your gaze and introduced them, "This is Roronoa Zoro," pointing to the green-haired guy who had spoken earlier, "This is Nami, Usopp, and Sanji," revealing the rest of his crew whom you hadn't seen yet.

"I hope you're hungry," the blond-haired Sanji said with a smile, "I've prepared a meal fit for thousands."

As your crew members cautiously stepped onto the Going Merry, they exchanged wary glances, still unsure about this unexpected alliance. But the warm smiles and genuine hospitality displayed by Luffy's crew began to put them at ease, albeit slowly.

You finally shook Luffy's hand, sealing the agreement. "Thank you for coming to our aid, Monkey D. Luffy. We appreciate your help, and we'll do our part to assist as well."

“You can call me Luffy” he smiled

"Thank you, Luffy," you replied with a nod. "I'm y/n, the captain of this crew. We're in your debt."

With introductions made and a mutual understanding established, the two crews set to work. Your crew members, alongside Luffy's crew, began assessing the extent of the damage to your ship, while Luffy himself seemed to be filled with boundless energy as he led the charge, making plans and offering assistance wherever needed.

As the day wore on and repairs were underway, you couldn't help but notice the camaraderie among the Straw Hat Pirates. They worked seamlessly together, each member contributing their unique skills to the task at hand. It was evident that they were a tight-knit crew, bound not just by their captain's leadership but by a genuine sense of friendship.

Nami, the crew's navigator, approached you as you oversaw the repairs. "You're lucky we happened upon you," she said with a sly grin. "The Grand Line can be unforgiving to those who sail it unprepared. But don't worry, with our help, you'll be back on your way in no time."

Usopp, the sharpshooter of the crew, chimed in, "And if you ever run into any trouble out here again, just give us a shout. We've got your back."

Sanji, the crew's cook, began preparing a feast for both crews to enjoy together. The aroma of his cooking filled the air, and your crew members couldn't help but be drawn to the delicious scent. It was a welcome respite from the earlier chaos and fear.

As evening fell, and the repairs to your ship neared completion, you gathered with Luffy and his crew around a makeshift table on the deck of the Going Merry. Plates of food were passed around, and laughter filled the air as stories were shared.

It felt so peaceful and normal—it wasn't often that you found yourself enjoying such casual conversation with strangers.

"So, where are you headed next?" Nami asked as she took a sip from her cup of sake.

You shrugged, briefly glancing at your crewmates before responding, "I haven't made up my mind just yet."

Luffy leaned back in his seat, his signature straw hat tilted low over his eyes. "You know, y/n, the Grand Line is full of adventures waiting to happen. We're always looking for new crewmates and allies. You and your crew seem like good people. Ever thought about joining us on the ultimate adventure?"

Your crew members exchanged surprised glances at Luffy's proposition. It was a tempting offer, to say the least. The idea of joining the Straw Hat Pirates and exploring the Grand Line with them was exhilarating, but you knew you couldn't make such a decision on a whim.

You chuckled, trying to defuse the sudden tension in the air. "Well, Luffy, that's a tempting offer, but we've got our own dreams and goals. Maybe our paths will cross again in the future."

Amid the ongoing dinner festivities, you couldn't help but become engrossed in the lively conversation with Nami. It was a refreshing change to find yourself in the company of another woman after what felt like an eternity. You shared an unspoken connection, a bond that went beyond words, stemming from the shared experience of being the sole females in your respective crews. It was as if you both understood the unique challenges and dynamics that came with that role.

Your discussions with Nami ranged from the practicalities of navigation and mapmaking to the more personal aspects of life at sea. You exchanged stories of your adventures, your dreams, and the occasional frustrations that came with your responsibilities. Nami's wisdom and wit resonated with you, and it was clear that you were kindred spirits in many ways.

However, despite your best efforts to focus solely on your conversation with Nami, you felt a steady gaze on the side of your face—Luffy's eyes never left you. He remained leaned back in his chair, contentedly eating and drinking, seemingly absorbed in your every word.

The dinner eventually came to an end, and the crew members of both vessels retreated to their respective quarters for some much-needed rest. You returned to your boat, grateful for the repairs and hospitality of the Straw Hat Pirates.

As you lay in your cabin, trying to find sleep amidst the creaking of the ship and the gentle rocking of the waves, you couldn't help but think about Luffy's offer. The allure of joining his crew and embarking on the ultimate adventure was tantalizing, but your responsibilities as a captain weighed heavily on your mind.

Unable to sleep, you decided to take a walk on the deck of your ship to clear your thoughts. The night was calm, the stars glittering above, and the moon casting a silvery glow over the water.

After your contemplative walk on the deck, you noticed a faint light coming from one of the rooms on Luffy's ship, the Going Merry.

Curiosity got the better of you, and you decided to investigate. The door to the room was slightly ajar, and you could see a warm glow emanating from within.

As you entered the room, you were met with an unexpected sight. Luffy was sitting there,his face illuminated by the soft glow of the lamp atop his desk. His head was resting against the table as he continued to write something down on his notepad.

You cleared your throat, breaking the silence that had engulfed the room

Luffy looked up, his wide grin returning as he noticed your presence. "Hey there, y/n," he greeted, his tone friendly and inviting. "Couldn't sleep either, huh?"

You nodded, stepping further into the room. "Yeah, I wanted to thank you for everything you did today”

Luffy gestured for you to take a seat opposite him, and you obliged, settling into a chair. The room was cozy, filled with maps, navigational tools, and scattered notes that attested to the adventures this crew had undertaken.

"No need to thank me," Luffy said with a shrug. "Helping out is what we do. Besides, it's been fun having your crew around." He then dropped his voice into a whisper having a more serious tone “I appreciated having you around,  y/n."

As you stared into his eyes, you noticed  something in his expression that caught you off guard. His eyes… they were different. In a way, they were filled with longing and desire. 

"Luffy…" you muttered softly, unable to tear your gaze away from the intensity of his eyes. "What's going on? Why are you looking at me that way?"

Luffy sighed deeply getting up of his chair, he walked over to the small window in the room, gazing out at the starry night. For a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if contemplating how to put his feelings into words. Then, he turned back to face you, his usual carefree demeanor giving way to a more serious expression.

"Y/n," he began, "I don't know how to say this the right way, but I can't help how I feel. Ever since we met today, there's been something about you that's drawn me in. I've traveled to countless islands, faced dangerous foes, and encountered all sorts of people, but meeting you felt different. It's like... like I've found something I didn't even know I was searching for."

His confession left you breathless, your heart racing in your chest. This revelation took you by surprise, especially considering it came so soon after your initial meeting. 

You, too, stood up and approached him, "Luffy," you began, your voice soft but filled with warmth, "I can't deny that there's something special about you. But we both know we will never see each other again”

Luffy nodded, his gaze unwavering. "I know that, y/n. But I've always followed my heart, and my heart tells me that you're special. I don't want to let this opportunity slip away without trying." 

As he leaned closer, his eyes locked onto yours,  his hand reaching forward to cradle your cheek in his palm. Your breathing grew shallow, your pulse quickening, as he brought his lips closer to yours.

Before you knew it, his lips were gently pressing against yours, sending tingles throughout your entire body.  A feeling of euphoria overcame you, and your eyes widened as you realized that what you'd felt was real. The kiss lasted longer than you expected, and when you finally pulled back, your heart was pounding so hard inside your chest.

Luffy smiled brightly, "This was a first time for me, y'know?"  

A blush spread across your cheeks as you laughed lightly in response. "Well, then don't stop" you whispered.

He instently crashed his lips on yours again, this time angrier and hungrier. His hands wandered from your waist to your hips, pulling you impossibly close to him until you felt as if you were melting in his embrace. His kiss deepened,  his tongue dancing with yours as you wrapped your arms around his neck.

There's no need to hold back now, you told yourself. You felt his warm hands caressing your skin, making heat pool between your thighs.

Your hand instinctively reached to remove his hat, but he stopped you, his hand gently grasping your wrist. He paused to look into your eyes for a few heartbeats before releasing you and carefully placing his hat atop your head.

As Luffy's hat settled atop your head, you couldn't help but feel a rush of emotions. It was a symbol of trust, a connection that transcended words, and a promise of something more. You gazed into Luffy's eyes  again, still flushed red with passion and arousal.

"Can I be honest with you?" you asked, your hands still resting on his shoulders.

Luffy hesitated for a second before giving a quick nod in return. "Of course", he replied.

You leaned in, brushing your lips against his again " You're a good kisser" you whispered against his lips. 

His lips curled into a slight smirk as he responded "Thanks".You closed your eyes as his lips trailed down to your jawline, leaving soft kisses along the way. His lips traced down your neck, slowly kissing your collarbone.  Your breathing increased, your mind becoming clouded with lust and desire. As your fingers ran through his hair, you felt him smile against your skin. Luffy's warm breath brushed against your ear as he spoke. "Do you want to have sex?" he asked.

His question surprised you, your mind taking a couple seconds to process the request. After all, this wasn't something you usually discussed with anyone. "Umm, I'm sorry. What?" you stuttered.

Luffy chuckled "Don't worry. There's nothing wrong with saying no if you don't want to."

You shook your head in disbelief. “It’s just…” you began, a frown forming on your face as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Are you sure? Do you really want to?” you asked quietly.

Luffy's smile grew wider as he leaned in, bringing his face closer to yours once again. “Yes, I'm sure.”

Your eyes darted to his lips, which were inches away from your own, hesitating for a moment before you moved forward. With your lips barely touching his, you whispered "Then yes..." 

Luffy grinned as he kissed you, his hands slid from your waist to behind your thighs, lifting you off the ground as your legs encircled around his waist. His mouth moved hungrily against yours as he got to his knees, the wood  creaking beneath his weight causing you to moan when you felt his hardness press against you through his pants. 

Your breath hitched in your throat when he began to move his hips slowly, eliciting a gasp from you as you pressed your pelvis against his crotch, feeling his erection harden in response. You moaned louder as you felt him grind his hips forward.

"You'll have to be quiet, everyone's asleep downstairs" Luffy whispered into your ear, moving one of his hands to cup your breast. 

The sound of his voice sent shivers down your spine, your body heating up as his hand moved to the hem of your shirt, removing it and throwing it to the side. You hurried to undo the buttons on his vest, letting it fall to the floor with yours. 

You slide off of him, your heart skipped a beat when he reached down and started unbuttoning his trousers,  pulling them off and tossing them aside. Your gaze drifted lower, noticing his bulge pushing against his black boxers. When you heard him groan, you glanced up at him, seeing his eyes darken in anticipation.

You took off your shorts and underwear, allowing them to fall to the ground next to his clothes. As you crawled towards him and lowered yourself onto his lap once again, he held you tightly, bringing you so close to him that you could feel his beating heart pulsating against your breasts.

"Oh God!" Luffy gasped, his teeth grinding together as he gripped you tighter, grinding you against him. You reached between your bodies, slipping your fingers into his boxer briefs, rubbing them lightly against his length. He let out a low grunt, his hips bucking upwards as you continued teasing his shaft with your touch.

You set him free from the cloth that separates you, and positioning his member against your entrance,  you pushed yourself slowly down onto him, feeling him tense as he entered you completely.

He grunted loudly, his hands clutching tightly onto your thighs as he thrust himself into you, the sensation of being filled filling you with joy. 

Luffy leaned forward, capturing your lips once again in another passionate kiss, his tongue tangling into your mouth. His hand traveled downwards, stopping above your clit as he slowly stroked it. As he did so, you moaned softly into his mouth, your whole body shaking.

"Fuck! Y/n," he gritted out.

"I thought you told me we had to be quiet" you teased, your voice breathy.

Luffy smirked as he rolled his eyes, shifting you slightly on top of him to allow you to continue to ride him.  Your hips thrust upward and downward, faster and faster until you reached an orgasm. Luffy placed his hand on your mouth as you rode your high, his face scrunched up in pure pleasure.

The moment passed, and you sat yourself up, looking down at him, "Sorry" you giggled. "I guess I kind of lost track of myself."

He snorted, "You mean lost track of my dick" he joked.

You laughed softly while playfully hitting his arm, "Yeah well, maybe I got carried away... or perhaps a little bit too excited."

Luffy shrugged, "Maybe a bit, but we're not going to talk about those kinds of things right now. We're both naked and horny, remember?"

"Mhmmm" you hummed as you grabbed him and laid on your back, pulling him atop of you . He gently took the hat off you and set it down somewhere to the left of where your discarded clothes lay.  He then proceeded to take control once again, pushing his cock deeper into you. Your breathing grew rapid, your eyes closed as you relished in the feeling.

Luffy began thrusting rapidly within you, his eyes staring deeply into yours. In response, you grasped onto  his back as your nails lightly dug into his skin.  Sweat dripped from your brow, and your legs quickly wrapped around his waist, pulling him ever further into you until there wasn't an inch of room between you two.

Luffy looked down at you as his thrusts slowed, watching as your chest rose and fell rapidly as you panted lightly.

 He gave you one last loving peck on the lips before returning his attention to his own actions. He pulled out slightly only to slam back in just as hard. Your back arched, causing you to moan loudly as he drove deeper into you. He buried his face in your neck, his teeth grazing the delicate flesh as you cried out with ecstasy.

Luffy's movements became frenzied as his climax overtook him, he withdraws himself from you before his semen spilled onto your stomach. A gasped escaped your lips as you felt his seed drip onto you.

The two of you fell silent, your eyes locked on each other, your chests rising and falling as you caught your breaths.

"Fuck, I thought it was your first time" you said between heavy breathes as you took a nearby tissue to clean you off

Luffy smiled, laying  down beside you "It is" he said out of breath looking at you with lustful eyes.

You gave him a soft smile,  your fingers running through his messy locks as he closed his eyes and sighed in content. 

The night, filled with passion and tenderness, eventually yielded to the creeping light of dawn. Gently, you stirred from the warmth of Luffy's embrace, feeling a pang of bittersweet nostalgia as you reluctantly disentangled yourself.

With a sigh, you rose from the ground, limbs still tingling from the shared intimacy of the night before. The room held the faint fragrance of your encounter, a lingering reminder of the passion that had unfolded.

As you dressed and made yourself presentable, you couldn't help but steal glances at Luffy, who lay in peaceful slumber, his straw hat resting next to him.

The first rays of sunlight filtered through the small window, casting a gentle glow on the room.A sign that the time had come to part ways with the Straw Hat Pirates. Though the night had felt like a dream, reality beckoned, and your own ship awaited.

You bent down and pressed a soft kiss to his forehead, your heart heavy with unspoken emotions.

As you made your way towards the door, you turned back one last time, taking in the sight of the man who had turned your world upside down in just one night. With a whispered goodbye, you stepped out of the room, leaving behind the memories of an unforgettable encounter.

A/N: Hope you liked it, idk if I should make it a short fic or not. Anyways, don’t hesitate to give other ideas, my requests are open :)

[rainydaydream-gal18]

(Poe Dameron x Reader): Caf Confessions

The lengths you'll go to in order to spend an extra few minutes with this man.

Word Count: 1,308

Warnings: Fluff

Truth be told, the instant caf that the Resistance supplied to its members left much to be desired. Each sip flooded your tastebuds with bitterness- the first time you gave it a try, you actually choked. Even catching a whiff of the dark liquid in passing made your stomach turn; which was unfortunate because the rest of the Resistance seemed to live on the stuff.  Everywhere you turned, someone was taking a (much-deserved) break with a steaming cup wafting that horrid scent into the air.

But this morning, like every other one, you hurried down the hallway as fast as you could without risking a collision with a fellow comrade. It was quite early, so the usual hustle and bustle of the day hadn’t quite kicked off yet.

Just one thing was on your mind. Believe it or not, it was caf. You couldn’t get your hands on a cup of that disgusting beverage fast enough.

The cafeteria was hardly occupied. A few filtered in and out, and the line for the caf machine was fortunately a short one. Even so, those who were in line happened to be tiredly moseying along, having not been properly awakened. On a normal day, you’d find entertainment in watching them come to life after their initial sip; eyes suddenly alert and lips parting to speak their first words of the day. But you were anxious to be on your way. You were running late this time.

Finally. Your turn at last.

You grabbed a cup and held your breath as you dispensed liquid death from the machine. Additives wouldn’t truly make any difference, but you still threw in a little extra something to try and dilute the flavor.

And then it was back to hurrying down the halls, this time trying to keep the cup from spilling too much. It was imperative that some remained when you reached your destination.

The last set of sliding doors hissed open, and a cool breeze blew the delightful scents of greenery and ground damp from a recent rainfall. The air was humid, temperature rising as the sun began its climb. You took a brief moment to simply enjoy the pale blue morning sky and bird calls in the very forest that concealed the Resistance. The halls inside the base were relatively quiet, but outside, things were already picking up. Vessels lifted off for patrol, and dozens of individuals marched with purpose in different directions.

Then, your gaze landed on a familiar head of curly dark hair in a standard issue bright orange flightsuit.

There he was, his masculine form leaning against an exterior wall casually, caf cup in hand as he gazed out at the jungle beyond. Dewey leaves glistened in the morning light. Your heart began to melt as you observed him from a distance just like you had so many times before.

Poe Dameron was the bravest person you knew. Selfless. Bold when the situation called for it. Kind. His laughter, though rare, was absolutely contagious. And when you were paired with him on a mission, his ingenuity was mind-blowing. So was that boyish smile that crossed his features when something went right.

It wouldn’t exactly be a lie to say that you’d fallen head over heels for the man. Not that you’d come out and tell him anytime soon.

You remained still for a few more moments before venturing forward, giving the appearance of nonchalance as you took residence on the opposite side of the dirt path leading out from the base doors. Your footsteps seemed to make just enough noise because Poe turned his head to look your way. His dark eyes were already alert, observant, but his demeanor was still laid-back and relaxed, hair still disheveled from sleep.

“Mornin,’” he said, lifting his cup as a gesture of greeting with one of those smiles that made your heart melt all over again.

“Good morning,” you replied. That queasy feeling was beginning to settle in after the first revolting waft hit your nose. It was quite the endeavor to position yourself so that the caf in your hand was as far away from you as possible without arousing suspicion.

“There’s nothing quite like a cup of caf,” Poe said, tilting his head back to take a gulp of his.

You nodded. “Can’t think of starting the day without it.”

Because then I wouldn’t have an inconspicuous excuse to come see you.

Poe shifted his stance, coming away from the wall to join you on your side of the dirt path. “This has got to be my favorite part of the day,” he confessed with a sigh. “I love the action, don’t get me wrong. But fifteen minutes of peace, with you…” His eyes traveled back to meet yours. “It’s what I need.”

You held his gaze for a moment before turning, forgetting yourself for a moment and idly taking a swig of the beverage in your hand. What started as a sputter turned into a violent coughing fit, and you were mortified to feel Poe’s hand patting your back.

“You okay?” he asked. “Went down the wrong pipe, eh?”

“Yeah.” No, this stuff is just disgusting. “Sorry.”

He chuckled. “You really can’t stand the stuff.”

You froze. “W-what?”

Poe hadn’t removed his hand from your back even as you straightened. “I see you with a cup of it every morning, but hardly ever drinking it. And when you do, you make a face.”

“I do not,” you countered, taking another sip. The flavor was despicable. You smacked your lips. “See?”

There was no mistaking that pointed smirk on his face. “You just did it again.” Before you could withdraw, Poe shook his head and amusingly brushed his finger under your chin to tilt it upward to meet the glint in his eye. “How about we meet here every morning, like we’ve been doing all along? But you ditch the caf.”

Your face heated up like it was beneath the blazing suns of Tatooine, but you nodded. “Alright.”

A comfortable silence fell between you two as you both turned to observe the view again. Your mind roved over the interaction, occasionally stealing a glance at him while he finished his cup. 

He wanted to keep spending time with you every morning?

What did that mean? Did it have to mean anything?

Poe Dameron cleared his throat and rolled his shoulders in a light stretch. He exhaled in a huff and turned to head back inside, giving you a playful nudge as he passed by you. “I’ll see you later.”

That next morning, you arrived at the spot a little extra early. Poe greeted you shortly after with a cup of caf in one hand, and a cup of another beverage entirely in his other. He offered it to you, and you accepted it with a grateful smile. A gasp escaped you when you looked inside.

It was your favorite comforting drink.

“I didn’t even know we had this!” You couldn’t hide the amazement in your voice.

“I might’ve put in a special request a few weeks ago for us to keep a stock of it,” Poe explained. “You work hard. You deserve it.”

Your eyes travelled back up to his. “Thank you, Poe.”

So began the tradition of him meeting you outside base (as long as the Resistance was set up in an environment that allowed you to do so) and bringing you a cup of your favorite cozy drink that didn’t taste like hot juice from a trash compactor. The two of you would stand there, talking, laughing, and enjoying that slice of peace and comradery each day.

Things took a turn when you two became an item, and then you got a taste of that caf each time he kissed you.

Only, it wasn't the least bit terrible then.

[milkdongcomics]

On this day in 2023, a whale carcass found in Hong Kong waters. HEY HUMAN, SEE WHAT YOU DO!? See More: https://a.co/d/hkZwRSh Instagram:  milkdongcomics Facebook:  Milk DoNg Comics A giant mammal seen earlier that month was spotted with propeller wounds, at least two deep cuts on the whale’s back. Believed to be a Bryde’s whale measuring about seven metres (23 feet) in length, was first spotted off the coast of Rocky Harbour near Millionaire’s Beach, or Nam Fung Wan, and the nearby waters in Sai Kung in mid-July. The sighting sparked huge interest locally, with people heading out in boats to look for it.

Marine experts said the whale might have got lost in its navigation and entered Hong Kong waters, which were not its usual habitat. And urged the public not to rent boats to go whale watching to avoid causing further injuries to the animal, which could cause it stress and lead to life-threatening consequences such as an inability to rest or feed and trauma.

[shipwreckguy]

Istanbul Collision

Anchored cargo vessels collide off Kartal; no injuries #istanbul #turkey #maritime

Photo: gazetebirlik.com On November 21, the 100 meter long, 7748 dwt cargo vessel Marla Orca (IMO: 9217802) collided with the 116 meter long, 3329 dwt cargo vessel DSK1 (IMO: 8721442) in the Sea of Marmara off Kartal, Istanbul, Turkey. The Marla Orca was anchored off Kartal when strong winds caused its anchor to drag causing it to strike the nearby anchored DSK1. The collision resulted in…

[2b4st4r]

Breath of life

Avengers x reader

Words: 7,391

Warnings: misspelling, use of y/n, mentions of death and grief, containment.

₊˚ ✧ ━━━━⊱⋆⊰━━━━ ✧ ₊˚

The void was all you knew, a cold, silent blanket that had been your constant companion since the world-shattering scream ripped through your home. Now, even that stillness was gone, replaced by a terrifying, accelerating rush. You were falling, a star-dusted projectile tearing through the fabric of space. Your hair, usually a flowing river of light, whipped around you like a storm, each strand a living thing desperate to anchor itself to something, anything, besides the emptiness. The air, or what passed for it out here, clawed at your skin, threatening to strip away the very essence of your being.

Then, a shimmer. A distant, vibrant blue marble began to grow, rushing towards you with alarming speed. Earth. You'd heard tales of it, whispered amongst the ancient gods of your destroyed realm—a young, vibrant world, teeming with nascent life. The thought brought a pang to your chest, a familiar ache for what you'd lost. As you plummeted closer, the blue deepened, swirling with vast white clouds. The atmosphere hit you like a physical wall, a thunderous crack that vibrated through your very bones. Your divine form, usually impervious, felt the strain, your vision blurring with streaks of fire. You were a meteor, a dying star, burning brightly as you plunged into an unknown future. The heat intensified, a searing embrace that threatened to consume you entirely. Your lungs, accustomed to the crisp, clean air of your home, burned with each gasping breath. And then, the ground. Not a gentle landing, but a violent, jarring impact that sent shockwaves through the earth itself, kicking up a colossal plume of dust and debris. You lay there, a god brought low, the echoes of a lost world still ringing in your ears, on a planet that would either be your salvation or your tomb.

Pain lanced through you, a thousand tiny knives twisting in your gut. Your body, usually a vessel of pure, untamed life, felt like shattered crystal. The impact had carved a crater into the earth, and you lay at its heart, a broken deity. Blood, not the crimson of mortals but a shimmering, golden ichor, seeped from beneath you, staining the churned soil. Every breath was a searing agony, a battle against the encroaching darkness. You were a god, yes, but not immune. The sheer force of interstellar travel, the brutal kiss of an alien atmosphere, and the bone-jarring collision with this new world had taken their toll. Any mortal, even a superhuman one, would have been vaporized, atomized into nothingness. You, however, clung to consciousness with a stubborn defiance that only a god could possess.

Your gaze drifted upwards, past the ragged edge of the crater, to the inky canvas of the night sky. It was beautiful, a velvet expanse dusted with diamond-bright stars, almost like home. Almost. A pang of longing, sharp and exquisite, twisted in your chest. On your world, the stars didn't just twinkle; they flickered with vibrant hues, pulsing with the silent symphony of cosmic life, a constant reminder of the magic that infused every fiber of your being. Here, they were still, white pinpricks in the black. A difference, subtle but profound, that echoed the chasm between what was and what had been lost. Despite the agony, despite the fading light of your consciousness, a flicker of something else ignited within you—a stubborn ember of hope. You weren't dead. Not yet. And as the darkness finally swallowed you whole, you knew one thing with absolute certainty: you would not be weak.

Unconsciousness was a swirling abyss, yet even within its depths, echoes reached you. Time stretched and warped, but eventually, voices began to pierce the haze, distant at first, then growing sharper. A low, gravelly tone cut through the ringing in your ears.

"We need to get her back to base," the voice rumbled, the words rough around the edges, yet possessing an undeniable authority. Your divine senses, though dulled, picked up the subtle clicks and whirs of unfamiliar technology, the faint scent of ozone and something metallic. Other voices, less distinct, murmured in response. You caught snippets, like fragmented dreams: "Yes, sir," and a dispassionate observation that prickled at the edges of your awareness: "She's definitely not from here."

That phrase, uttered with a quiet certainty, resonated deeply within your muddled mind. It was true, of course. You were a stranger in a strange land, a refugee from a world that was no more. The speaker continued, his voice closer now, laced with a professional curiosity. "Reading off the charts... energy signature unlike anything we've ever cataloged." There was a pause, then a sigh, almost exasperated. "And the crater, Jesus. How did she even survive that?" Another voice, higher pitched, responded with a flurry of technical jargon you couldn't decipher, something about "bio-signatures" and "atmospheric entry."

You felt a shift, a slight vibration beneath you, then the sensation of being gently lifted. Hands, surprisingly careful for beings of such fragile composition, maneuvered your form. Even in your impaired state, you registered their careful movements, the low hum of machinery growing louder. The last thing you heard before the darkness fully reclaimed you was the gruff voice again, a final, clipped command: "Secure her. And for God's sake, keep an eye on those energy readings. We have no idea what we're dealing with."

The void became absolute. No sound, no sensation, just a profound, silent nothingness. It was a blank slate, a stark contrast to the cacophony of your arrival. Then, without warning, the darkness shattered.

You awoke to a blinding assault of bright, artificial light that stabbed at your eyes. Instinctively, you tried to raise your hands to shield them, but they wouldn't move. A jolt of panic, cold and sharp, shot through you. Your wrists were bound, secured by thick, metallic restraints to the cold, hard surface beneath you. The table itself was unforgiving, pressing into your battered form.

You blinked, trying to clear your vision, and slowly, the stark reality of your surroundings came into focus. You were lying in a strange, sterile room. Your body was swaddled in what felt like thick, soft materials—bandages, you realized, covering wounds you couldn't see but could acutely feel. The room was unnervingly white, from the walls to the floor, almost clinical in its oppressive cleanliness. It was circular, enclosed entirely by a transparent barrier, like a vast, seamless sheet of glass. It felt less like a medical bay and more like a cage, designed not for healing, but for observation, for containment. You were on display, trapped, and utterly vulnerable.

A raw, primal panic surged through you, cold and suffocating. You thrashed, a god in chains, your arms straining against the unyielding metallic braces that held your wrists. Then you realized your ankles were similarly secured, pinning you utterly to the cold table. The fight was instinctual, a desperate need to break free, to reclaim the autonomy that had been stripped from you. Each violent tug sent fresh waves of agony through your wounded form, but you barely registered it.

Grief, sharp and immediate, tore at you. Grief for your shattered world, for the cosmic fire that had consumed everything you knew. Then came the anger, hot and blinding, directed at the unfeeling hands that had bound you, at the cruel irony of surviving utter annihilation only to be imprisoned. And beneath it all, a profound confusion.

Why?

The answer, agonizingly, began to surface from the depths of your injured mind. Your father. Your all-seeing, all-powerful father. He had sent you here. Not by choice, but by a desperate act of love and sacrifice. He had banished you from your dying world, a desperate throw of the dice to shield you from the impending doom that had claimed him and everything you loved. This wasn't just imprisonment; it was a consequence of that desperate act, a stark, unwelcome reality of your survival. You, the goddess of life, were now a prisoner, adrift in a universe that was utterly alien.

In your blind, instinctual thrashing, the world around you seemed to dim, your focus narrowed to the desperate fight against the bonds. Then, a voice cut through the haze, deep and resonating, laced with an undeniable, no-nonsense authority.

"You should probably calm down," the man stated, his tone gruff but surprisingly even. He continued, his voice a low thrum that vibrated through the glass, "If you don't wanna get impaled, that is."

Your eyes, burning with unshed tears of rage and sorrow, snapped open. Across the transparent barrier, a figure stood, silhouetted against the sterile white of the corridor beyond. He was a powerfully built man, clad in dark, practical clothing, and his most striking feature was an eye patch that covered his left eye, giving him a perpetually wary, almost dangerous air. His face was stern, etched with experience, and his remaining eye, a dark, piercing gaze, held yours with an unnerving intensity. As he spoke, he gestured upwards, and your gaze followed, your heart seizing in your chest. Directly above you, a large, intricate device hung from the ceiling, its metallic components gleaming under the harsh lights, a silent, menacing promise of pain. It was clearly some form of weapon, alien in its design, but undeniably lethal.

A cold, righteous fury settled over the panic. "You seek to subjugate a being who has traversed the dying embers of a star?" you demanded, your voice raw but gaining strength, imbued with a touch of the divine power you still possessed. "Do you truly comprehend the folly of such an endeavor?" You strained against the shackles, the metal groaning under your divine might. "Unbind me at once, you mortals of meager understanding, or face the consequences of your audacious insolence!"

Your frustration surged, morphing into a desperate need to reclaim your power. You focused, drawing on the inherent life-force that coursed through your veins. A faint, almost imperceptible H/C glow flickered in your hair, a whisper of the vibrant emerald light it usually radiated. But it was fleeting, weak. It barely illuminated the confines of your prison before dying out, leaving you just as vulnerable as before. This wasn't right. You had trained for eons, for your entire existence, perfecting your control, honing your abilities. This level of feebleness was unthinkable. Injury, yes, but not this profound stripping of your very essence.

"What have you done to me?!" you snarled, the raw question ripping from your throat, tinged with disbelief and a rising terror. Your H/C hair, which had promised to shimmer with divine energy, now lay dull against the sterile white of the table.

Nick Fury’s gaze didn’t waver, his single eye assessing you with a chilling calm. A flicker of something, perhaps a tired resignation, crossed his face. He nodded slowly, almost to himself.

"Another one from out of this world, I see," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of surprise, as if encountering gods from distant galaxies was just another Tuesday. He then gestured vaguely at the monitoring equipment humming around the room. "As for what we've 'done' to you, as you so dramatically put it... we simply made sure you wouldn't take out half the eastern seaboard when you woke up. You were radiating enough energy to power a small city, and that impact crater wasn't exactly subtle." He leaned slightly against the glass, his stance relaxed, yet radiating an undeniable authority. "You're heavily sedated. That's why your little light show fizzled out. It's for your safety, and ours."

Desperation fueled your next surge of effort. You strained against the metallic cuffs, every divine muscle burning with the effort. To your astonishment, one of the wrist restraints groaned, shifting fractionally within its moorings. A spark of triumph ignited within you, quickly extinguished by the whirring of the weapon above. It lowered by several inches, its ominous maw now directly over your chest, a silent, unblinking threat. You froze, the stark reality of your predicament slamming into you with the force of a physical blow.

"Unleash me from these confines," you demanded, your voice now laced with a desperate plea rather than righteous fury. "Release me from this... cell."

Fury remained impassive, his single eye unwavering. He made a subtle gesture, and the weapon above you retracted a few inches, though it still loomed. "Maybe," he drawled, his voice a low, gravelly promise. "Maybe, if you answer a few questions first."

He took a step closer to the glass, his presence radiating an unreadable mix of suspicion and pragmatism. "First things first: who are you? And where exactly did you come from? Because you certainly didn't show up on any commercial flight." He paused, his gaze sweeping over your still-bandaged form. "And speaking of your arrival, what was that exactly? An uncontrolled re-entry? Or something else entirely?"

You grit your teeth, the words feeling like ash in your mouth. The idea of revealing your true nature to these ignorant mortals, to this one-eyed man who held your temporary fate in his calloused hands, was abhorrent. But the silent threat of the weapon above you, and the dull ache of your weakened body, left you no choice.

"My designation... among my own kind... is irrelevant to you," you began, each word a strained grumble. "However, should you insist on such trivialities, you may call me Y/N." You paused, a flicker of raw defiance in your eyes. "As for my origin, I hail from a realm far beyond your meager comprehension, a world of cosmic energies and living light. A world that is no more." The last words were almost a whisper, laced with an ancient sorrow. "And my 'arrival,' as you term it, was not a mere re-entry. It was a desperate flight from ultimate annihilation, a forced exile to preserve what little remained of my existence."

Fury listened, his expression unchanging, a mask of professional skepticism. When you finished, he simply nodded, a slow, deliberate movement.

"A god, then," he stated, his voice flat, devoid of surprise, as if you'd just told him you were from Canada. "And your 'realm of cosmic energies' was... destroyed." He steepled his fingers, his gaze unblinking. "Interesting. Because we've dealt with 'gods' before. They usually come with a lot more lightning, a lot more ego, and a tendency to break things. And usually, their home worlds aren't quite so... thoroughly gone." He leaned back slightly, a calculated glint in his eye. "So, Y/N. Tell me, what kind of 'god' exactly are you? And what exactly was so powerful that it managed to wipe out your entire 'realm'?"

You listened to Fury’s words, the mention of other "gods" causing a subtle shift in your rigid posture. A small, almost imperceptible fraction of the tension drained from your shoulders. Gods here? On this world? The thought was intriguing, a tiny flicker of something akin to hope in the vast darkness of your despair.

"Other gods?" you questioned, your voice softer than before, curiosity overriding your immediate anger. "What manner of divine beings dwell upon this sphere? What are their domains? What powers do they wield?" The concept of shared divinity, even with unknown entities, was a balm to your wounded spirit.

Fury’s single eye remained fixed on you, unyielding. He offered no further explanation. "They come and go," he stated simply, a dismissive wave of his hand. "Now, back to my question. What god are you?"

You hesitated, the answer heavy on your tongue. It was a core part of your being, yet now, stripped of your power and surrounded by unfamiliar faces, it felt almost hollow. Still, you looked him squarely in his one good eye, a flicker of your inherent pride returning.

"I am the Goddess of Life," you declared, the words ringing with a quiet dignity despite your binds. "My essence is woven into the very fabric of existence, into the burgeoning of flora, the vitality of fauna, the spark of nascent consciousness. I am the one who fosters growth, who mends what is broken, who cherishes all that breathes." You looked around the sterile room, a grimace touching your lips. "Or, at least, I was. Before my world became a testament to oblivion."

Fury studied you, his single eye unreadable. He’d seen a lot in his life, things that defied explanation, beings that shattered every known scientific principle. A god who commanded lightning? He’d met him. A trickster god who reveled in chaos? He’d dealt with him too. But a Goddess of Life, one whose essence was tied to growth and vitality, and whose world was utterly obliterated? This was a new variable, a different kind of unknown. He was far too seasoned to dismiss anything outright, especially when it landed in a giant crater. Yet, the sheer scope of your claim gave him pause.

"God of Life," he repeated slowly, a hint of something unreadable in his tone – not disbelief, but a profound curiosity. "That's... broad. Most 'gods' we encounter tend to specialize. Thunder. Mischief. A hammer." He gestured vaguely with his head. "But life itself? That's a whole different genre." He narrowed his eye, a sudden shift in his demeanor, becoming more direct, more probing. "So if you're the Goddess of Life, how exactly did your 'realm' get wiped out? And what, precisely, was so powerful it could erase a world from existence?"

The brief flicker of relaxation vanished, replaced by a rigid tension that spread through your still-bound form. The memories of your world's destruction, of your father's final, desperate act, were too raw, too painful to share with this pragmatic, unfeeling mortal.

"I owe you no such answers," you stated, your voice low and dangerous, a stark contrast to your earlier vulnerability. "I have imparted to you the knowledge you required. Now, fulfill your part of this unspoken bargain and release me from these contemptible bonds."

Fury’s single eye remained fixed on you, a calculating gleam within its depths. He gave a soft, almost imperceptible sigh, a sound of weary patience. "See, that's where we differ, Y/N," he said, his voice as smooth and hard as polished stone. "You've given me some answers, sure. Enough to confirm you're not from around here and that you hit the ground hard. But 'needed to know'? We're not even close to that yet." He stepped back from the glass, gesturing vaguely at the room. "You're in a secure facility. Highly secure. Until I understand precisely what you are, what happened to your 'realm,' and what kind of threat, if any, you pose to this one, you're not going anywhere." He paused, his gaze hardening. "And trust me, 'Goddess of Life,' you wouldn't like the alternatives."

Rage, hot and blinding, flared within you. This was not your nature. You were the Goddess of Life, a being of grace, kindness, and boundless empathy. You cherished every delicate bloom, every fluttering wing, every fragile breath. But the obliteration of your world, the betrayal of your banishment, and now this indignity—it had warped you. The serenity you once embodied was fractured, replaced by a raw, primal fury.

"If you do not release me from these contemptible bonds," you seethed, your voice low and trembling with suppressed power, "I swear upon the very fabric of the cosmos, I will escape, and you, Director, will be the first target of my divine wrath."

Fury watched you, his single eye unblinking, a flicker of something unreadable in its depths. A sardonic twist touched the corner of his lips. "For a 'Goddess of Life'," he observed, his voice dry, "you're remarkably... aggressive and deathly." He paused, his gaze sweeping over your bound form. "Not exactly the benevolent life-giver I was expecting. But then again," he added, a hint of steel entering his tone, "I've learned to expect the unexpected."

You had endured enough. The forced helplessness, the cynical scrutiny, the cold, clinical indifference to your suffering—it all coalesced into a molten core of resolve. You were the Goddess of Life, and no mere mortal technology would bind you. With a surge of raw, unfettered will, you reached deep within yourself, past the sedation, past the lingering weakness, to the very wellspring of your being.

A wave of pure, emerald energy, subtle at first, then intensifying, radiated from your core. It wasn't the destructive force of lightning or the illusion of trickery; it was the power of growth, of overcoming, of life asserting itself against all odds. The metallic restraints around your wrists and ankles screamed in protest, twisting and groaning under the unseen pressure. With a final, explosive surge, the bands snapped with the sound of tortured metal, shards flying across the room.

Before Fury could even react, your gaze locked onto the menacing weapon above you. With a mere thought, a silent command from the Goddess of Life to the inert matter, the device buckled in on itself, collapsing into a tangled mass of broken components and sparking wires, utterly inert.

Across the glass, Fury's impassive facade finally cracked. His single eye widened fractionally, and his hand instinctively went to his ear, pressing a finger to an comms device. "What the—" he began, his voice a low, urgent murmur into the comms. "We have a breach! She just—"

But his words were lost to you. The rush of reclaimed power, the exhilarating snap of freedom, and the lingering sting of his insults had coalesced into a blinding, all-consuming rage. He had threatened you, belittled you, imprisoned you. And now, he would see the true, terrifying might of a goddess scorned.

The lingering tendrils of sedation, which had woven themselves into your very being, now felt like gossamer threads. With a swift, decisive movement, you located the source of the lingering weakness—a thin, almost invisible injector connected to a port on your wrist. You ripped it out, the dull ache a mere pinprick compared to the surging power within you. As the foreign object left your body, your internal wellspring of life force surged, amplifying your abilities.

You strode to the transparent barrier, your newly restored strength thrumming through your veins. This glass cage, this insult to your divine nature, would not hold you. You raised your fist and punched the surface, a powerful blow that should have shattered any mortal construct. It held. Not a crack, not a tremor. A cold wave of disbelief washed over your anger. You tried again, channeling more force, the impact jarring your arm. Still nothing.

Then, a flicker of memory, a primal instinct. You were the Goddess of Life. You didn't just break; you transformed. You pressed your hand against the glass, focusing your power not on blunt force, but on the very essence of its molecular structure. As your fingers splayed across the surface, an emerald green light pulsed from your touch, not a glow on the glass, but a slow, horrifying decay within it. The transparent material began to pit, to crumble, to dissolve with a sickening hiss, transforming into a grainy, almost biological dust under your divine touch.

Across the now-breaching barrier, Fury's face registered a flicker of genuine shock. He cursed under his breath, a low, guttural sound, and pressed his finger to his ear comms with renewed urgency. "Get me the hell out of here!" he barked, his voice laced with uncharacteristic desperation. "And for God's sake, call the Avengers!"

But you heard nothing beyond the roar of your own returning power, the crumbling hiss of the glass, and the promise of vengeance that sang in your blood.

With the glass barrier dissolving into green dust, you stood free, the cool air of the containment room washing over you. Fury stared, his jaw clenched, as you stepped out of the crumbling enclosure. The initial surge of homicidal rage receded, replaced by a more pragmatic understanding. You were the Goddess of Life; violence, especially against a being who had merely acted out of fear and ignorance, was not your true path. The threat had served its purpose.

You glanced back at Fury, who was already barking orders into his comms. Instead of engaging, you turned and ran. The sterile hospital uniform, designed for fragility, felt alien and constricting. The base was a labyrinth of stark white corridors, a hive of subdued activity. As you sprinted, figures in dark uniforms appeared, weapons raised. Shots rang out, sharp cracks that echoed through the confined space. But you didn't falter. An emerald shield, born of your revitalized power, shimmered around you, deflecting the projectiles with ease.

You burst through a door into a vast room filled with glowing screens and intricate machinery – a computer room, you vaguely registered, its alien technology humming with unfamiliar energy. You paid it no mind, driven by the singular need for escape. The base was a confusing maze of similar-looking sections, but your instinct guided you towards the open air, towards the sky you yearned to reclaim.

Finally, you emerged into the blinding daylight, the sun a distant, comforting presence after the harsh artificial lights. A strong wind whipped at your uniform. You prepared to leap, to finally feel the freedom of open air beneath you, but then you stopped, frozen by the impossible realization. This wasn't a ground-level exit. This was a platform in the sky. The base wasn't on Earth; it was floating hundreds, perhaps thousands, of feet above it. Below you, miniature cities sprawled like intricate circuits, and the vast, blue expanse of the planet curved away to the horizon. You had escaped a cage, only to find yourself suspended in another, far grander one.

You hesitated at the edge, the wind whipping your hair, the vastness of the sky a daunting prospect. You could jump. Your divine physiology would likely ensure your survival of the fall, even from this impossible height. But the injuries from your crash, the lingering effects of the sedation, they gnawed at your reserves. You'd be unconscious upon impact, a broken doll easily retrieved by these relentless mortals. They would simply reclaim you.

Taking a cautious step back, your senses, still heightened, detected movement behind you. You spun around, ready for another confrontation. Standing there, hovering a few feet off the deck, was a figure encased in shimmering, red and gold metal. It was utterly alien, a marvel of mortal ingenuity, its face a smooth, metallic mask.

Then, a voice, cocky and undeniably human, resonated from within the suit, amplified by unseen speakers. "Well, lookie here," the voice drawled, a distinct playful arrogance in its tone. "Someone forgot their boarding pass. Took you long enough to get outside, sweetheart. Found her, boys."

You bristled, your teeth clenching in a snarl. "I'm warning you, metal being," you spat, the raw power of your voice echoing across the open platform, "stay away from me."

The metallic face of the suit tilted slightly, as if the man inside were raising an eyebrow. "Metal being?" the voice chirped, a hint of amusement now lacing his words. "That's a new one. And here I thought 'tin man' was the most creative you could get. Look, princess, I'm just here to escort you back to your comfy little room. No need to get your cosmic panties in a twist." He paused, a barely perceptible hum of his repulsors keeping him suspended. "Unless, of course, you'd rather take the scenic route down. We're pretty high up, by the way. Vertigo's a real buzzkill."

You let out a frustrated huff, the condescending tone of the metal man grating on your last nerve. Your hands came together, palms touching, and a vibrant emerald glow erupted, quickly enveloping them. "Do not say I did not warn you, mortal," you intoned, the words a low thrum of power.

Then, you slammed your glowing hands onto the metal deck of the airborne base. The normally impervious material immediately began to groan and buckle, fissures spreading outward from your touch. From these nascent cracks, with impossible speed, burst forth thick, coiling vines and thorny tendrils, their vibrant green contrasting sharply with the cold steel. They lashed out, grasping, tearing, as if the very structure of the platform was coming alive.

Tony Stark, quick as thought, jetted upwards, avoiding the initial surge. But the plants didn't stop. They elongated, stretching, their leafy forms extending rapidly as if reaching for the sun, chasing him relentlessly through the open air.

"Fury!" Tony's voice crackled through the comms, a note of genuine surprise in his usually unflappable tone. "You didn't say this girl had a green thumb! And a really, really angry one at that!"

Across the base, Fury pressed his hand to his ear piece, watching the chaos unfold with a grim expression. "I didn't know," he muttered, his voice tight, the words barely audible even to himself. "I didn't know."

He dodged, twisting his armored body to avoid a thick vine that whipped past where his head had been moments before. The plants continued their relentless pursuit, their growth almost unnaturally fast, leaves unfurling and thorns extending. Then, a sound cut through the whine of his repulsors and the creaking of the growing flora – a string of words, not English, uttered by Y/N.

Her voice, though strained, held a cadence that was ancient, lyrical, yet guttural, a language born of roots and stone and cosmic dust.

"Fadre, parduon miu qon harma aliu bios. Fadre, parduon miu."

Inside his suit, Tony’s internal comms flared. "FRIDAY, translate that, stat!" he barked, as another thorny branch scraped against his chest plate.

"Translating, Boss," FRIDAY's calm, synthesized voice responded. A moment later, the translation filled his ears.

"The subject stated: 'Father, forgive me for harming the beings. Father, forgive me.'"

Tony barely registered the words, too busy evading a particularly aggressive vine that tried to wrap around his leg. But the translation, once processed, added a new layer to the already chaotic situation. Forgive me for harming the beings? This was not the typical villain monologue. This was... unexpected.

Tony was about to radio Fury, a quick thought about how "she doesn't actually want to hurt anyone" forming in his mind, when a thick, thorny vine, deceptively quick, snaked around his left foot. It pulled with surprising force, yanking him downward. FRIDAY's calm voice suddenly grew urgent in his ear, a torrent of warning sirens and diagnostic readouts. "Impact imminent, Boss! Brace for—"

Before he could hit the rapidly growing vegetation, a flash of red, white, and blue streaked past. A circular shield, vibranium gleaming, sliced through the grasping plant with effortless precision, freeing his foot. Tony righted himself, hovering just above the fray, as Captain America landed lightly on the deck, already in motion.

Cap wasted no time. Shield raised, he charged, a blur of patriotism and pure conviction heading straight for you. You met his rush, your eyes narrowing.

"Stay your hand, shield-wielding mortal!" you warned, your voice ringing with authority, the emerald glow around your hands flaring brightly. "Do not force my hand further!"

Your eyes, which had been squeezed shut in concentration, snapped open, revealing pools of luminous green as your H/C hair flared with an intense, emerald glow. "I am warning you!" you bellowed, the words reverberating with divine power.

Captain America, shield held ready, didn't hesitate. "I don't know who you are or what you're capable of," he stated, his voice firm and unwavering, "but you're causing a major security breach. Stand down, or we'll make you." He then pressed a finger to his own comms, a quick, clipped question to the others. "Fury, Stark, what are this girl's abilities?"

"Unknown!" Fury's gruff voice crackled back instantly.

"She doesn't want to—" Tony began, about to reiterate your earlier words about not wanting to harm anyone, but Cap cut him off, his voice sharper now.

"Doesn't matter what she wants, Stark! She just tore through level five containment and is actively attacking the Helicarrier. We need to neutralize the threat!"

Cap launched forward, his shield already swinging in a powerful arc, aimed to disarm. But before he could connect, a blur of red and gold intercepted him. Tony Stark, despite his earlier warnings, had positioned himself directly between Cap and you, blocking the attack with his armored forearm.

"Jesus Christ, listen to the smart guy!" Tony's voice boomed, amplified by his suit, a clear tone of exasperation.

Cap recoiled, stunned, his attack interrupted. "Tony, what the hell?!" he demanded, his voice laced with shock and anger. "She's a threat! What are you doing?"

"Taking a breather, Cap, before you smash something irreplaceable," Tony retorted, his repulsors humming as he kept himself between you and the super-soldier. "Look, she's talking about 'forgive me for harming the beings.' Not exactly 'death to all humans,' is it? Maybe we try the 'talk' option before the 'punch' option for once?"

"Talk?" Cap scoffed, adjusting his grip on his shield. "She just trashed a section of the Helicarrier and broke out of level five. She needs to be contained, Tony, not interviewed!"

"Oh, I'm fully aware of the property damage, believe me, that's coming out of my pocket," Tony shot back, a flash of irritation in his tone. "But she's clearly agitated. We just lost one alien who wanted to conquer us, I'd rather not start a fight with another one who's just having a really bad day. And honestly, she just said 'Father, forgive me.' Kinda makes you wonder, doesn't it? What's going on, Cap?"

Your hair, its vibrant emerald glow momentarily flickering, faltered as you watched the two armored men. Your sharp glare was now deeply ruffled with confusion. These mortals, fighting amongst themselves over you. It was... unexpected.

"Stark, Rogers, cut the theatrics," Fury's gruff voice cut through their comms, laced with characteristic impatience. "She's not exactly signing up for a charm offensive. My intel suggests she's not much for polite conversation, nor for staying in her cell."

"Yeah, well, your definition of 'polite conversation' usually involves a giant needle and a 'threat of impalement' weapon, Nick," Tony retorted, the sarcasm thick in his tone. He then paused, his head tilting slightly. "Seriously though, how'd she even get here? Did she like, Uber from the Andromeda Galaxy? Because that's a hell of a surge charge."

Cap, momentarily thrown by Tony's bizarre interjection, lowered his shield slightly, his gaze flicking between you and Stark. "Tony's right," he conceded, though still wary. "We need more information before we escalate this further."

Just as a tentative calm settled over the tense standoff, a flash of movement, impossibly fast, arced through the sky. A heavy hammer, glinting in the sunlight, shot past your head with a whistling whoosh, narrowly missing you as you instinctively stepped back. Your defensive stance snapped back into place, the flicker of curiosity extinguished by renewed caution.

The hammer returned to the hand of its wielder: a tall, powerfully built man with long, blonde hair and a flowing red cape. He was clad in armor that seemed both ancient and magnificent, and his presence radiated an aura of raw, untamed power.

"From personal experience," Thor boomed, his voice like distant thunder, full of a confident authority that brooked no argument, "even those from the farthest reaches of the cosmos often find the customs and regulations of other realms... cumbersome. Many such wanderers possess power that transcends mortal understanding, and thus, feel little inclination to abide by their laws." He looked at you, his blue eyes holding a strange mix of kinship and firm resolve. "It is a truth I have observed in my own case, and in the case of others who have traveled far from their native stars."

His piercing blue eyes locked onto yours, observing you with an intensity that seemed to peel back layers of your being. He raised Mjolnir, preparing for his next strike, a warrior's resolve etched on his face. Your H/C hair flared with an even more vibrant, emerald glow, radiating the full, raw power you now commanded.

"Whoa, hold your horses, Point Break!" Tony yelled, zipping in between you and Thor, repulsors flaring to hold his position. "She's not exactly going for the 'dominate the universe' look! And believe it or not, we were just about to have a productive conversation, maybe even a 'let's not blow up this very expensive flying aircraft carrier' conversation!"

But Thor didn't respond. His eyes, fixed on you, suddenly widened. The hammer, poised for attack, slowly lowered. A flicker of recognition, then astonishment, washed over his features. His brow furrowed in deep thought, as if sifting through ancient memories. He knew you. Not from a battlefield, but from the hushed reverence of Asgardian lore. He had seen your likeness, heard tales of your power, in his father's vast libraries, whispered among the oldest texts.

"The Goddess of Life," Thor murmured, his voice now a low, awestruck whisper, devoid of its usual booming confidence. "Y/N."

Tony’s armor whirred almost imperceptibly as he tensed. "Okay, so 'Y/N, the Goddess of Life'?" he quipped, but the usual flippancy was thin, replaced by a nervous edge. "Anyone else feeling like this is getting a little too much for a Monday?"

Cap’s stance became even more rigid, his eyes narrowed as he glanced between you and Thor. "Goddess?" he muttered, his voice tight. "Thor, what are you talking about?"

Fury's voice, devoid of its usual gruffness, cut through their comms, a rare note of genuine surprise in his tone. "So she wasn't lying," he stated, almost to himself. "Figures. The universe always finds a way to throw a wrench in your day."

Thor, however, ignored them, his gaze still fixed on you, a profound reverence now mingling with the awe in his eyes. "In the ancient prophecies of Asgard," he began, his voice hushed, "Y/N is spoken of as one of the most Divine beings in all the Nine Realms, nay, in the entire cosmos. Her essence is that of creation itself. She commands the burgeoning of realms, the flourishing of all living things, the very spark that ignites existence." He finally tore his gaze from you to look at Tony and Cap, his voice filled with an almost childish wonder. "I thought I would never land my eyes upon her in this lifetime. She is the embodiment of life, a force that shepherds entire worlds."

Your eyes widened, a sudden flicker of understanding in their emerald depths. This was one of the "gods" Fury had mentioned, a being with knowledge of your kind, of your very essence. Perhaps, finally, you could get answers without the constant threat of weaponry or cynical interrogation.

"Where am I?" you demanded, your voice still firm, but the raw edge of anger replaced by a desperate plea for information. Your hands still glowed with a faint green light, a testament to your power and your readiness to defend yourself.

Thor, his initial awe settling into a solemn understanding, stepped forward. "You are upon the Helicarrier, a vessel of great power forged by the mortals of this realm, called SHIELD. It traverses the skies above Midgard—Earth, as you know it. Your passage, Y/N, was… less than subtle. We mean you no further harm, though our initial actions were born of ignorance, not malice."

Tony, ever quick to adapt, zipped in closer, his metallic face plate tilting as if in an apologetic shrug. "Look, Divine Being, my bad. Seriously. We mortals haven't exactly had the best track record with 'out of this world' visitors lately. A few of them have had, shall we say, less-than-neighborly intentions. So, yeah, we tend to lead with the giant impaling device. Again, my apologies for the crude welcome."

Captain America, ever the pragmatist, lowered his shield entirely, though his posture remained ready. "You are safe here for now, Y/N. We don't intend to keep you confined, but we need to understand your presence, and more importantly, your intentions, on this world."

You scoffed, your gaze flicking pointedly towards Fury who stood stoically behind the crumbling glass. "Safe?" you echoed, a bitter laugh escaping your lips. "Your 'safety' began with metal bonds and the promise of impalement, delivered by the one with the eye patch."

Tony chuckled, a dry, metallic sound from his suit. "Yeah, Nick's not exactly the 'welcome wagon' type. More of a 'shock and awe' kind of guy. It's his charm."

Before Cap could interject, another voice, calm and utterly self-assured, cut through the tension. A woman, lithe and red-haired, stepped into view from a side corridor, her movements fluid and silent. She wore practical, dark clothing and regarded the scene with an unreadable expression.

"I see you've got everything handled here," Natasha Romanoff stated, her voice flat, a hint of dry amusement in her tone as she surveyed the shattered containment, the fleeing plants, and the three bewildered Avengers.

Natasha stepped closer, her expression unreadable, her voice smooth and even, utterly devoid of the panic or awe the others had shown. "It appears we got off on the wrong foot," she began, her eyes meeting yours with an unnerving intensity. "My name is Natasha Romanoff. I assure you, Director Fury's methods, while effective, are not always... diplomatic. We understand you're disoriented, and clearly, very powerful. But this is not the place for this discussion. We need to go somewhere quieter, somewhere safer for everyone involved."

You remained wary, your internal guard still high, but her calm demeanor, so different from the others, held your attention. Her words lacked the bluster of the metal man, the thunder of the other god, or the frustrated authority of the one-eyed leader.

"No more chains, no more mysterious glowing needles, promise," Tony chimed in, hovering nearby, his voice a quick, reassuring counterpoint to Natasha's measured tones. "We'll even throw in some actual food this time. Five-star, probably. Unless you're into, like, pure energy for sustenance, which we can also probably arrange. We have smart people for that."

Natasha shot Tony a glance that could curdle milk before turning back to you. "We just want to talk, Y/N. Understand what happened, and see how we can help you. No threats, no weapons. Just a conversation."

Thor stepped forward, his gaze meeting yours, a deep understanding in his blue eyes. "Y/N," he rumbled, his voice losing its thunderous quality, softening into something far more comforting. "I, too, have known the anguish of a shattered home, the disorientation of a new realm. They speak true. There is no deceit in their words now. We seek only to understand, and to offer what aid we can. You are not alone in this."

His words, echoing your own profound loss and displacement, resonated with a truth that none of the others could convey. He understood, on a fundamental level, the weight of a world destroyed. The lingering tension in your shoulders eased further, replaced by a weary resignation.

"Very well," you conceded, the emerald glow in your hands dimming to a soft pulse. "I will speak with you, and those who share your counsel." You looked at each of them, your gaze sharp despite your weariness. "But hear this, mortals: if I perceive any falsehood, any attempt to confine me or to use me for your own designs, I swear by the shattered fragments of my star, I will reduce this entire vessel to the dust from which it came. Do we have an understanding?"

"Someone's been hanging out with Goldilocks," Tony muttered, loud enough for everyone to hear, a smirk audible in his voice. "The 'shattered fragments of my star' thing? Totally a Thor classic. You two should form a band."

You offered no response, simply letting out a low huff. Your glowing hands finally dimmed, the emerald light fading as you carefully, deliberately, moved towards the gaping hole you had created in the glass. With the Avengers now forming a loose perimeter around you, you stepped back inside the Helicarrier. Every fiber of your being was on high alert, hyper-aware of every subtle shift in the air, every whispered comm, every movement of the armed figures who now gave you a wide berth. The sterile white corridors, once a prison, were now a labyrinth of potential threats and unknown possibilities. You were walking into the belly of the beast, but this time, it was on your terms.

Next part (not posted yet)

[uamariner]

#129 Colreg card. Ship's navigation lights and action to avoid collision

[mirai-e-jump]

Animage March 2025 Issue ft. Chinen Hidekazu x Hino Yusuke Interview (translation below)

Publication: February 10, 2025

A Sweet & Bitter Collision

In the midst of the battle against the Stomach Family, who manufacture dark sweets and employ part time Granutes to kidnap humans, Shouma meets Karakida Hanto. They fight together, but Shouma's unable to tell Hanto, who despises Granutes, that he's the youngest brother of the Stomach Family.

A major topic in the story was when Hanto found out Shouma's secret, but that moment came in an unexpected way. A casual remark by Glotta, the eldest daughter of the Stomach Family, was what revealed Shouma's true identity.

Their relationship of trust began to crack. It was Shouma's own actions that paved the way to repairing it. He risks his life fighting in order to protect the humans who live in this precious world……Hanto realizes that he wants to trust Shouma, and their nearly shattered bond was revived as something stronger.

During the battle with Kamen Rider Bitter Gavv, Shouma remembers meeting Hanto's mother when he was a child, and tells Hanto about it. What exactly happened to Shouma and Hanto's mother? A further unsweetened fate will bear its fangs at both of them!!

-Bitter Gavv is a hollow Shouma-

"Both Shouma and Hanto have grown and changed significantly compared to the very beginning of the show."

Chinen: In the beginning, Shouma would say whatever he thought out loud like a child, but now that he has people that he cares about, the fear of losing them has also developed. Because of that, he began to look at his surroundings and think before saying anything, which I think was the biggest change.

Hino: Hanto had always held a grudge against the Granute who took his mother, and had a bad impression of the entire species, but he had developed enough trust and a tight friendship with Shouma to the extent that he was able to shake it off. He was able to come to terms with the thought that all Granutes are enemies, while accepting Shouma for who he is. I wanted to effectively express the moment when Hanto grew as a person.

"Starting from episode 21, Dark Shouma, who transforms into Bitter Gavv, appeared. Including how you'd differentiate your role as Shouma, what were you conscious of in your performance?"

Chinen: Dark Shouma's a hollow vessel, as he's lacking the almost 20 years of life that Shouma's lived. I was conscious of trying to differentiate him from Shouma in that Dark Shouma is unable to distinguish between right and wrong and is lacking social skills. Also, Dark Shouma himself doesn't fear death, as he has nothing to lose, which is different from Shouma, who's found things that are important to him. It's really fun doing such drastic things when performing as Dark Shouma, as all his actions are for the sake of becoming stronger.

Hino: He seems to be having fun as Dark Shouma. On the flip side, as soon as he "returned" to being Shouma, he was all like, "Ah, what am I going to do?"

Chinen: At a time when Shouma had alot of things to deal with, I took on the role of the completely broke Dark Shouma……

Hino: Just the way you said, "completely broke" (laughs).

Chinen: (laughs). I've been thinking very hard about how to make the switch in attitude. I tried to study Satoh Takeru-san's performance by watching the "Kamen Rider Den-O" making of video, but he would switch so quickly, that it makes me think that he has a natural talent that I can never imitate.

-Various thoughts are conveyed through my facial expressions and fist-

"We think that the scene at the end of episode 20, where Hanto punches Shouma, was the one that made Hanto's anger most apparent out of all the episodes up to this point."

Hino: This was a scene where his suspicion and sense of mistrust that had been building up towards Shouma finally burst, so instead of simply venting his feelings, I thought I'd express his mixed emotions of anger, confusion and shock. My synchronization with Hanto has improved, so I've been practicing in advance less often, but I did record that scene myself countless times in order to check what kind of expressions I had on my face, and to see how the image would turn out before entering the set. Director Sugihara said I "looked like a boyfriend who just witnessed his partner cheating" (laughs).

Chinen: You did. That's not at all what the scene is about though (laughs).

Hino: I think Shouma was the only person that Hanto had allowed himself to trust after losing his mentor. The anger at being betrayed must've also struck a very special nerve within Hanto, but ultimately, I think the way things turned out was good.

"How was it for Chinen-san to act as the person on the receiving end of his anger?"

Chinen: His true identity was unexpectedly revealed, so all he felt in that moment was regret, that he was in the wrong, and the feeling of guilt towards Hanto. That said, instead of asking for forgiveness or making excuses, he just had to accept Hanto's anger, and took the punch with Hanto's feelings loaded in it as it came.

Hino: It was challenging because we had to do multiple shots at various angles and speeds.

Chinen: We must've done atleast four shots. They were also checking for the point where Yusuke-kun made contact.

Hino: Because of the angle of the camera, there were takes where I didn't have to make a direct hit, while other takes I had to hit him properly, but I really hated it. The sensation of hitting another person just felt wrong…….

Chinen: As the one doing the punch, you probably also felt a sense of responsibility to not injure your co star.

Hino: Right. I've done some action before, but that scene may be the only one I've ever had to perform a hit so precisely.

Chinen: Yusuke-kun naturally went easy on me, but I was determined to give it my all, so we shot that scene while consulting with each other on set. Director Sugihara told me that I "looked like I was used to being hit," so it was also difficult to act out when I took his punch.

"The scene in episode 22 where Shouma confides in Hanto about his past was the climax for Shouma and Hanto's misunderstanding drama."

Hino: That part was difficult……

Chinen: We had something of a meeting before shooting that scene.

Hino: Now that you mention it, we did!

Chinen: We discussed what we were thinking with Director Tasaki and came up with our own ideas, which we then brought to the set on the day of the scene. With their hearts bare, and without hiding anything, it's a scene where the two of them spoke their true feelings to each other, so I was conscious of how honestly I could speak each line, and wanted to bring out everything I had felt as Shouma up to that point. Director Tasaki also explained the meaning behind the situation, saying that because it would be emotionally difficult for them to talk face to face, he created an environment where they could both look out at the city and open up about their true feelings. As I performed, I thought that the sight and feelings Shouma experienced when he first entered his mother's world after falling from the plane were also overlapping with this scene.

Hino: Director Tasaki told me to "be considerate of Shouma's feelings, but not to be influenced by them," and it was very difficult to focus on that. Hanto's the type to express anger when he's mad and cries when he's sad, but Shouma's the type of kid who smiles in front of everyone, even if he's crying on the inside. If he was going to try to be considerate of his true feelings, he won't be able to grasp them unless he listens carefully to what he's saying. Still, as Hanto, I had to listen to what Shouma had to say while trying to believe him, but if I were to suddenly think, "That's true, it is painful, isn't it?," what was bothering and angering him just before then would become blurry. It was a very sensitive scene, so it was important for me to maintain a good balance between not getting caught up in Shouma's mood and accepting him as Hanto.

"We felt that it was very "Gavv like" how the two of them carefully chose their words as they discussed the matter."

Hino: For my part, I was preparing for the possibility of having to fight Shouma. However, I felt that Komura-san was trying to depict a human drama rather than a Kamen Rider one, and that she was committed to the idea that instead of fighting, the two would accept each other by facing one another as people. Director Tasaki told me, "The real challenge is to make sure children don't take their eyes off it." Children like scenes where we transform into Kamen Riders and fight, but they can also get something earnest out of the drama, so we discussed having faith in the viewers and how we'd do that scene in order to draw them in.

-Sachika's presence is important to both of them-

"Episodes 21 and 22 were also memorable because of Sachika's active role."

Hino: This may have been the first time I worked so intensely together with Miyabecchi on a performance. Being kicked, locked out of a room, and given a stern talking to by someone who's super cheerful and cares about everyone, well, it really sucks, doesn't it? (laughs). He really wanted to believe Shouma, but he couldn't keep his cool due to his inability to forgive Granutes and his anger at him for hiding it, and I acted with the feelings that the president (Sachika) had helped him come to his senses. Our conversation through the door was a fresh experience for me, and in the scene where we're fighting over the door, Miyabecchi used too much strength and ripped the handle off, to which Director Tasaki told her, "It's okay if you take that home with you" (laughs).

"That's just how much Miyabe-san got into it (laughs)."

Hino: In the kicking scene, the Director told her, "You can kick as hard as you'd like," but Miyabecchi is kind, so she looked me in the face. I told her, "It's totally fine, just kick," but Sachika's shoes were so hard, that it was extremely painful (laughs).

Chinen: Even though you said it was fine to kick (laughs). Sachika-san was the first person who created a place for Shouma to stay, and he looks up to her with the thought of, "I want to be like this person". Because of that, he was afraid that everything he had built up until that point might collapse, and he couldn't confide in her that he was a Granute. For the phone scene in episode 22, Sachika-san's voice was recorded in advance and played on the set to make it easier for me to act out the scene. When I heard Sachika-san's voice, I naturally felt a rush of emotions, and I was able to perform in a state in which my feelings and Shouma's feelings were closely linked.

Hino: If they had used the voice of a staff member, you wouldn't have been able to do such a good performance (laughs).

Chinen: No, no, that's not true! Still, I felt more at ease since her voice is one I'm used to hearing.

Hino: Right.

Chinen: Thanks to that, I was able to do that scene in one take. In episode 23, Shouma and Sachika-san meet for the first time since she found out that he's a Granute, where I was also deeply moved by it. I think that scene is the one where I was reminded again how glad I am that Sachika-san is Sachika-san.

"In episode 23, Hanto will learn what really happened to his mother."

Hino: Honestly, the situation is so cruel, that if I myself were Hanto, I wouldn't be able to go on living, but Hanto has to overcome it. I hope you'll look forward to the important story that awaits Hanto, and I'd also like to firmly establish various things intended for the future.

"Bitter Gavv is likely to have a presence in future episodes."

Chinen: So far, all he's done is run wild, cause damage, and then disappear, almost like a typhoon (laughs).

Hino: He really is a menace, isn't he? (laughs).

Chinen: There are many mysteries surrounding this character, such as how he was born, so I hope that you'll pay attention to Bitter Gavv going forward. _

Q: What's your favorite chocolate treat?

Chinen: When it comes to chocolate, I like "gateau au chocolat" the best. I've even made my own by using a rice cooker!

Hino: I'd have to say frappes, as they're easy to drink even if you don't like sweet things. As Valen, the man most suitable for Valentine's Day, I love everyone's handmade chocolates the most ❤️ (everyone laughs).

The tertiary Rider is a reliable senior hero.

Chinen: I feel that Shouma relies on Lakia since he's also a Granute, and that there's something about him that makes Shouma feel safe.

Hino: Lakia beat the shit out of Hanto though. Gavv's always one step too slow when it comes to saving him (laughs).

Chinen: It can't be helped (laughs). Lakia's Shoji-kun appeared in "Kiramager," making him my tokusatsu senior, and he teaches me technical things and gives me advice when I'm having trouble with my performance. He's very considerate of those around him, will try to communicate with us as actors, and is the connection between everyone, so I'm very grateful to him for that.

Hino: I've been in the industry longer than he has, but we have a rather unusual relationship in that I'm older than him but he's my tokusatsu senior. I have a high level of respect for him, but now that we've gotten to know each other, I treat him like a friend.

[grimm-the-tiger]

I made this post a little while ago listing some facts about shipwrecks that probably only I find interesting, so now I’m back to talk about some of them. Specifically, the Olympic. The Olympic was the namesake of the Olympic-class liners, whose most notable member was the Titanic. Out of the three Olympic-class ships - Titanic, Olympic, and Britannic - only one of them was actually unsinkable, and that was the Olympic. 

Over the more than 20 years of its existence, the Olympic was never once in real danger. The Olympic was the danger. On its fifth voyage in September 1911, Olympic was running parallel to the HMS Hawke, a British warship designed specifically for ramming things. Olympic suddenly turned to starboard (right side of the ship if you were facing towards its front), catching Hawke’s commanding officer off-guard; he wasn’t able to avoid the collision and ended up ramming the other ship. Olympic was left with a substantial hole beneath the water line (although flooding was for the most part averted due to its bulkheads actually working properly, *cough* Titanic *cough*) and a slightly less substantial hole above it. Hawke, meanwhile, had its entire bow caved in. Olympic made it back to port just fine under her own power, while Hawke almost capsized. Somehow, no one was seriously hurt or killed. 

Three fun facts about this situation: Violet Jessop, a woman famous for surviving the sinkings of both of the Olympic’s sister ships, was onboard the Olympic when this happened. This incident also reinforced the idea that the Olympic-class was unsinkable. The famous postponement of the Titanic’s maiden voyage also occurred because of this incident; a propeller shaft was damaged in the collision, they needed a new one ASAP, and, well, the Titanic was right there... 

Four years later, WWI broke out. The Olympic was requisitioned as a troop ship, given 6-inch naval guns, and sent on its way. In 1918, while travelling to France with a literal boatload of American soldiers, Olympic spotted U-103, a German U-boat chilling on the surface of the ocean. Olympic opened fire on U-103, which immediately crash dived to keep from dying, then turned to ram the U-boat. Olympic hit U-103′s conning tower and tore open the hull with its propellers. U-103′s crew decided “fuck this” and abandoned ship; Olympic didn’t bother to stop to pick them up, so a nearby American warship did instead. It was later found that U-103 was preparing to torpedo Olympic when they’d been spotted, but they couldn’t flood the torpedo tubes in time. Olympic remains the only merchant vessel in WWI recorded to have sunk an enemy vessel (which would become a more common occurrence during WWII, to the extent that the Nazis apparently tried and hanged at least one captured British merchant captain for ramming one of their U-boats. The Nazis were ones to talk, considering they rehired the man who sank the Carpathia and was notorious for war crimes that included things like “drowning surrendered enemy crews by forcing them to strip and stand on the roof of his submarine, then diving the submarine” and “attacking designated hospital ships that made it very obvious they were hospital ships”). 

Following WWI, while Olympic was being refit for civilian service, a sizeable dent was discovered below the waterline. It was later concluded to have been caused by a faulty torpedo, most likely fired by U-53 while the Olympic was travelling through the English Channel. 

Olympic collided with another, smaller ship, Fort St. George, in New York Harbor on March 22, 1924. There’s not much information on how badly Olympic fucked Fort St. George up, just that Olympic apparently fucked around a little too much and found out, because the collision broke its sternpost (support post in the back of the ship; think of it like a central pillar in a structure), forcing the entire stern frame to be replaced. 

On November 18, 1929, Olympic was cruising not far from the Titanic’s wreck site when the whole thing began shaking for two minutes. This was later found to have been caused by a 7.2 magnitude earthquake off the coast of Newfoundland. 

The Olympic’s last hurrah (and casualty) was on May 15, 1934, when it collided with the lightship LV-117. Olympic had known the lightship was in the area, but didn’t know where exactly it was until they were right on top of it. Olympic’s captain immediately ordered a hard turn and the engines slowed, so Olympic wasn’t moving particularly fast when it did hit LV-117 (about 3 and a half miles per hour), but Olympic was fucking huge, and the people onboard barely noticed when they practically crushed the lightship under them. Only four of the eleven crew aboard LV-117 survived; four went down with the ship and three died in Olympic’s hospital (yes, these things had hospitals; I told you there were fucking huge). 

Olympic was fully scrapped in 1937, forever going down in history as both the only Olympic-class ship that was actually unsinkable and the one with the longest reign of terror. Good God, man. I understand sinking the U-boat, but you didn’t need to bring like four other ships down with you.