#hull unleashed

[dual-aurora-wavee]

xrose drunk hapened...

stupid pictures of me and my friends at a con yesterday ^_^

vriska is @beetl_bug on insta

terezi is @mr-rdark

[artists-wonder-emporium]

Do you sell any stuff at comic cons?

Yes I do! I'm based in the UK and I actually have three Unleashed cons booked for this year~

York 3rd of March

Hull 28th of April

York 1st of September

The first York one is very soon so expect a little post of that in the next couple of weeks~

And if any of you are going to these cons please come and say hi! I'll have my table full of prints, stickers and charms and would love to meet you all! 🌟😊🌟

[mariacallous]

The Ocean Sciences Building at the University of Washington in Seattle is a brightly modern, four-story structure, with large glass windows reflecting the bay across the street.

On the afternoon of July 7, 2016, it was being slowly locked down.

Red lights began flashing at the entrances as students and faculty filed out under overcast skies. Eventually, just a handful of people remained inside, preparing to unleash one of the most destructive forces in the natural world: the crushing weight of about 2½ miles of ocean water.

In the building’s high-pressure testing facility, a black, pill-shaped capsule hung from a hoist on the ceiling. About 3 feet long, it was a scale model of a submersible called Cyclops 2, developed by a local startup called OceanGate. The company’s CEO, Stockton Rush, had cofounded the company in 2009 as a sort of submarine charter service, anticipating a growing need for commercial and research trips to the ocean floor. At first, Rush acquired older, steel-hulled subs for expeditions, but in 2013 OceanGate had begun designing what the company called “a revolutionary new manned submersible.” Among the sub’s innovations were its lightweight hull, which was built from carbon fiber and could accommodate more passengers than the spherical cabins traditionally used in deep-sea diving. By 2016, Rush’s dream was to take paying customers down to the most famous shipwreck of them all: the Titanic, 3,800 meters below the surface of the Atlantic Ocean.

Engineers carefully lowered the Cyclops 2 model into the testing tank nose-first, like a bomb being loaded into a silo, and then screwed on the tank’s 3,600-pound lid. Then they began pumping in water, increasing the pressure to mimic a submersible’s dive. If you’re hanging out at sea level, the weight of the atmosphere above you exerts 14.7 pounds per square inch (psi). The deeper you go, the stronger that pressure; at the Titanic’s depth, the pressure is about 6,500 psi. Soon, the pressure gauge on UW’s test tank read 1,000 psi, and it kept ticking up—2,000 psi, 5,000 psi. At about the 73-minute mark, as the pressure in the tank reached 6,500 psi, there was a sudden roar and the tank shuddered violently.

“I felt it in my body,” an OceanGate employee wrote in an email later that night. “The building rocked, and my ears rang for a long time.”

“Scared the shit out of everyone,” he added.

The model had imploded thousands of meters short of the safety margin OceanGate had designed for.

In the high-stakes, high-cost world of crewed submersibles, most engineering teams would have gone back to the drawing board, or at least ordered more models to test. Rush’s company didn’t do either of those things. Instead, within months, OceanGate began building a full-scale Cyclops 2 based on the imploded model. This submersible design, later renamed Titan, eventually made it down to the Titanic in 2021. It even returned to the site for expeditions the next two years. But nearly one year ago, on June 18, 2023, Titan dove to the infamous wreck and imploded, instantly killing all five people onboard, including Rush himself.

The disaster captivated and horrified the world. Deep-sea experts criticized OceanGate’s choices, from Titan’s carbon-fiber construction to Rush’s public disdain for industry regulations, which he believed stifled innovation. Organizations that had worked with OceanGate, including the University of Washington as well as the Boeing Company, released statements denying that they contributed to Titan.

A trove of tens of thousands of internal OceanGate emails, documents, and photographs provided exclusively to WIRED by anonymous sources sheds new light on Titan’s development, from its initial design and manufacture through its first deep-sea operations. The documents, validated by interviews with two third-party suppliers and several former OceanGate employees with intimate knowledge of Titan, reveal never-before-reported details about the design and testing of the submersible. They show that Boeing and the University of Washington were both involved in the early stages of OceanGate’s carbon-fiber sub project, although their work did not make it into the final Titan design. The trove also reveals a company culture in which employees who questioned their bosses’ high-speed approach and decisions were dismissed as overly cautious or even fired. (The former employees who spoke to WIRED have asked not to be named for fear of being sued by the families of those who died aboard the vessel.) Most of all, the documents show how Rush, blinkered by his own ambition to be the Elon Musk of the deep seas, repeatedly overstated OceanGate’s progress and, on at least one occasion, outright lied about significant problems with Titan’s hull, which has not been previously reported.

A representative for OceanGate, which ceased all operations last summer, declined to comment on WIRED’s findings.

[scvrgrl]

something stupid | roronoa zoro x fem!reader

the time is right, your perfume fills my head the stars get red, and, oh, the night's so blue and then I go and spoil it all by saying somethin' stupid like, "i love you."

word count: 1.3k

cw/tags: roronoa zoro x fem!reader, drinking and drunken confessions, short&sweet, sfw and fluff!! inspired by something stupid - frank sinatra & nancy sinatra

the sound of the crashing waves against the ship’s hull mingled with the cacophonous laughter that erupted from the two of you. after a long, stressful day of evading one of the many nefarious foes that tailed behind your crew, zoro had the brilliant idea of winding down with a cool bottle of sake. 

zoro's head swayed with the restless current, bobbing against the wooden panels that lined the crow’s nest. his beautifully tanned skin prickled with goosebumps as the ocean breeze grazed his exposed arms. when he was with you, zoro felt like he could come alive — lowering his guard and allowing himself to be ignorant to the outside world, just for a moment. his stoicism faltered whenever you were around, effortlessly tugging a gentle smile at his lips with a single, all-knowing glance. despite only being a part of the crew for a few months, you grew to understand zoro better than anyone else on the crew — hell, sometimes better than himself. the relationship between the two of you was easy and comfortable, two feelings zoro had never been familiar with. his life always flashed a million miles a minute, encountering death more times than he’d be willing to admit. but when you were around, his life slowed down, making time to commit your soft features to memory. 

the feelings zoro had for you were more than romantic. sure, he allowed his mind to wander to not-so-appropriate places over the last few weeks when he finally realized his feelings for you. but the fluttering in his chest and stomach were not the only distinct symptoms that accompanied this crush. it exceeded the bounds of love and lust, crossing over into an unbridled admiration. he appreciated you in his life, finding himself unable to imagine a world that you weren't in, weren't a part of. and in the brief moments that he did, his chest hollowed and an aching loneliness burned through his heart.  

so yeah, he liked you.

the alcohol that ran through his system made him feel light, its buzz causing his cheeks to flush. although, his blush wasn’t attributed to the alcohol alone. no, he had been watching the way you threw your head back, your loud and chaotic laughter erupting from your rosy lips. he loved how comfortable you were around each other, not afraid to unleash your “ugly laugh,” as you had called it once before. anything you did was a sign of beauty in his eyes, a treasure that he wanted to keep all for himself. 

unbeknownst to zoro, you had felt the same way for a long time. ever since you met him, you recognized how undeniably handsome he was. the macho-man front he put on in the beginning had been a little off putting, constantly walking on eggshells to avoid disturbing him. however, zoro warmed up to you quite nicely once you had proved yourself trustworthy. you’d teased him once about being like a grumpy old cat — distant at times but always coming around when it mattered, showing affection at random periods, yet welcomed all the same.

your sweet, floral perfume fused with the salty ocean air, creating a dizzying sense of pleasure through zoro’s head. he knew he was staring at you, probably making you uncomfortable as the silence ran long. but he didn’t care. instead, he kept his eyes soft and his lips slightly parted into a smile, drunk off your presence alone. the alcohol was merely a confidence boost for what he was about to say, something he’d been itching to tell you for a long time. 

“i love you,” zoro said, voice barely above a whisper. his eyes were fixated on you, watching you and waiting for the reaction he wanted. his gaze was intense, a tension building in his chest as the nerves bundled beneath the surface.

your heart jumped for a split second, stopping at the sound of his voice. he’s drunk, you reassured yourself, careful not to get your hopes up.

“yeah, yeah. i love you too, zoro” you joked, brushing off his words while you fixed your concentration on the dark ocean below. the tension inside the crow’s nest became heavy, a warmth flushing your cheeks that you begged to stop spreading.

“no, you’re not listening to me,” he slurred, words laced with frustration as he sat upright. something in zoro’s eyes shifted, his relaxation transforming into a seriousness that you had been entirely unprepared for, “i’m in love with you.”

“what?”

the warmth in the air became a tension so palpable that you could’ve molded it between your fingers, grasping it to stabilize your now-trembling hands. rather than accepting his words for what they had been, you’d been filled with a nasty bitterness as your mouth turned sour. you’d grown accustomed to the degrading routine of unrequited love, its loneliness becoming comfortable over time. in truth, the thought of someone possibly reciprocating those feelings terrified you, fearing for the disappointment that would follow.

“you’re drunk, roronoa.” you scoffed. whether it was during arguments or intimate conversations, you’d always addressed zoro by his proper name. it had turned into a safe word, letting him know that you were serious.

you began to rise to your feet, holding onto the wall for support as the alcohol ran wild through your system. zoro had stared at you with fierce bewilderment, brows furrowed as you packed for the night. he latched onto your wrist, grasp a perfect balance between firm and cautious, as if he were afraid you’d break under the pressure. zoro’s eyes were staring up into yours with an intense desperation, pleading for an ounce of your undivided attention.

“i’m serious, [y/n]. i love you. but you don’t have to say anything if you don’t want to. i know it’s weird coming from me — hell, i feel weird just saying it. but i know that if i don’t tell you now…i don’t think i ever will.”

the apprehension in his voice told you that he was telling the truth, a very scary truth at that. there were many times during battle, both on land and sea, where zoro should have been afraid. but nothing could have scared him more than the thought of losing you. he was worried that you’d reject him, forever tarnishing the beautiful friendship that you both worked so hard to build and protect. he was worried that you’d no longer come to him when you needed someone to talk to, afraid that he’d made things weird with his stupid crush. i’m such a fucking idiot.

however, nothing could have prepared him for the way you leapt into his arms, tackling him to the ground. the impact caused him to lose his balance, the both of you rolling onto your backs. drunken laughter filled the room once more, only this time it was accompanied with relief. you made your way into his arms, chests pressed against each other as your hearts synchronized. the kiss you planted on his lips was shy, testing the waters. zoro’s rough hands raked gently through your hair, grabbing a handful as he pulled you deeper into the kiss. you could taste the sake as your tongues mingled together, drinking in the remnants through his saliva. his grip on your waist tightened as you bucked your hips against his, hungrily begging for more and more of him.

“you have no idea how long i’ve been wanting to do that,” you huffed, cheeks and lips flushed as you catch your breath.

zoro’s lips traced your jawline, traveling downward as he placed a trail of kisses and nibbles down your neck, “who said we have to stop?”

cranked this one out real quick cause i just had to get it off my chest. i’ve been such a zoro and sanji girl lately it’s becoming an issue someone please sedate me

[evilminji]

You know, i just had the mental image of a sith in star wars finding a ritual or something to summon a ghost and end up summoning danny, while in space. The sith is struggling to try and convince this otherworldly being to help them do evil and their just staring out the nearest viewport in awe about the amount of new space things to discover.

How does it feel? To have such a big and wrinkly brain? So full of smartness?? :O

That? Is Brilliant~☆

It could be a Krell situation. Stress of the war got to be too much. Or a Dooku situation, discontent fed and fed until it burst. Like a silently festering wound, left unseen and untreated.

Regardless of HOW it happened?

The lil shit steals from Madame Nu. Like a CRAZY PERSON.

Rightfully terrified that she will Kick Their Ass into the stratosphere for touching HER archives, they head straight for the "Sith Stuff". What does it DO? What RESEARCH did they do? HA! You ask too much of them! There is no PLAN here!

Their brain has gone to SOUP with the Dark Side. It's all wild mood swings and impulse decisions! Research and careful precautions takes PATIENCE. Planning. The calm and rationality they just THREW OUT AN AIR LOCK.

They are high on the initial high of the Dark Side that few, if any, Dark Siders ever SURVIVE. That TEST of their character and control, as they stand in the storm they have unleashed upon themselves.

You want POWER?

Okay.

HAVE IT.

Like trying to swallow a waterfall. Drink the ocean, one cup at a time. Endless, yes, but equally so? It is BRINE. Not the life giving waters of the Light. The more you drink... the deeper your thirst. The faster you die. Can you control yourself? Suffer it? For that's all that's left... suffering. Thirst. Endless, Endless Thirst.

Water water everywhere, and it shall grind your bones to DUST when next you drink.

Welcome to the Dark Side! Was it WORTH it?

But, ah, our Fallen's brain is muddled soup. They think so. They are not themselves. May never be again. That's why it's a tragedy. Because it both IS and ISN'T their hands that takes that Sith artifact. Because who they WERE would be appalled.

They don't even know what they are grabbing, do they? No one does. Seized from the ruins of a laboratory. Long dead horrors, painted upon the walls. A Sith's obsession with the afterlife of his people. Ghosts. Beings that were, supposedly, DIFFERENT then Force Ghosts.

The notes speak of "green". A vision or experience in his youth. Brief. The world tearing open. A gate to somewhere "green". The Sith believed it was the afterlife. Felt death inside the gate. Described as "peaceful, joyful, driven, and eternal", he was ultimately unable to full articulate the full scope of what he believed he saw.

Now his last device is in the hands of a fallen jedi.

Who is going to USE it.

P A N I C

Obviously, the Temple gaurds chase the crazy mofo as hard as they can. Without a DOUBT, every master on hand and available, is roped in by Madame Nu to FOLLOW that psychopath, before he unleashs FORCE KNOWS WHAT, directly over CORUSCANT AIRSPACE!!! The SENATE. THE TEMPLE?! HUNDREDS OF MILLIONS OF LIVES!?

Fallen McFuckface? Clearly did not think this through (nooooo, REALLY? Everyone is SHOCKED! Shocked, they tell you!), panics. Which is, unfortunately, the LAST thing they wanted them to do. FUCK™.

Masters and Knights are LITERALLY cutting through the hull, kicking down the door, they can survive limited Space exposure and honestly? We're not THAT high yet! Let's see you jump to hyperspace with HOLES in your ship! (Fucking, DONT GIVE THEM IDEAS! They're insane, remember?!) (Shit. You're right.)

When?

.......Green...~¤~

Hilariously? The Sith can plan all they want. But you can NEVER plan for stupid. Make a plan idiot proof, as they say, and the Universe will just build a better idiot. All that carefully curated misery, hatred, and suffering? That DISPAIR. The webs upon webs of Darkness carefully spread across the Senate district? Choking the Temple?

Mmmmm, tasty kindling. Good fuel! Sith Artifact LIKEY~!

It RIPS and TEARS. A screaming MAW IN THE SKY. A black hole for Dark Side energy that takes and takes and TAKES. Dropping people all across the district below. KILLING the particularly irredeemably monstrous. After all~!

The Force? Is in all things.

You DON'T have to be Force Sensitive, to Fall. Just a BASTARD. Just cruel and selfish, hateful and needlessly petty. All the things that would sour and turn a Jedi? Can sour and turn YOU too. Just slower, quiter, and with less explosions. But! It still wraps the Dark around your bones. Feeds it into your blood.

Kills you, when it all gets ripped away.

One must wonder.... how many Senators die instantly? And how many die in the days to come? Slowly, painfully, bed-bound as they reflect on who they had become? The fall out will be SPECTACULAR.

The Jedi's fault? How? How is their being stretched so thin they could not mount a proper response THEIR fault? How is YOUR corruption, THEIR fault? Please note all the individuals who were FINE! Baffled, but FINE!

But perhaps you are correct.

Perhaps, for the safety of ALL, we should MOVE our main Temple.

We've done it before. We can do it again. Or do you not want to HAVE that conversation? Hmmm? No, no, we wouldn't want to be a THREAT to you FINE people! You HONORABLE senators! Please, continue to yell and make demands! SEE HOW FAR IT GETS YOU!

Would they normally send someone more diplomatic? Yes. But STRANGELY all of THEM had weird SITH Darkness on them that got violently ripped off! They are in the halls of healing. Unconscious. Because getting Sith shit, that was hooked into your brain, violently ripped out? Not GREAT! 0 out of 10 healers recommend!

Fuuuuck you! Yes, I bite! And be warned, my Race is VENOMOUS! *aggravated Jedi Senior Padawan noises, hissing*

Danny? Got pulled out in FULL regalia. Just FULL on Ice and Stars. Full "I am the Cosmos beholding itself, I am the dead child you could not save.", beyond vanta-black armor and cape like a window to ever shifting stars, crown of aurora borealis playing off the eternal ice, all upon a youngling that seems forever floating... frozen in time. By death.

Was it sacrifice? Natural? Is it just a shape the spirit takes? IS he a youngling?

They both can and can not feel him.

Both can and can not SEE him.

He is so young....

A child king, hsmiles with such shared grief, when they look upon that too large crown, upon a head that should never have been forced to wear it. Like a child, forced to wear his father's mantle too soon. Is that what happened? Was it something worse? They can not bring themselves to ask.

Not when he is so... so DELIGHTED?

Playing with the younglings. In AWE of each and everyone of them. The things they learned each day. "Who wants to go flying?" "Try to float me!" "I believe in you." Oh, he BASKS in their Light like a desperate thing. Showers them with praise and attention, gentle corrections and undivided attention.

He is empathic. Alive and dead. Fascinated by the stars.

And of course... King™.

No, no, he's not interested in your Senate. Doesn't like um, Doesn't trust um. The vibes are RANCID. But I mean... if you REALLY need an army so bad? Since it seems you guys are pushing yourself WAY outside of your normal duties? Like, he doesn't know, uhhh farmers burning crops to prevent starvation? Something like that.

Just? Since you hate it? But are worried people will die? Or those Clone guys (Sweet! Clones! Ellie is gonna be HYPED.) Are gonna die? He could, you know... fix that for you?

JUST you.

We're gonna have to get it in writing. And they won't do anything BUT stop the robots and help people. They don't actually answer to you. Soooo.....?

.......are you offering us an army? (Yeah. An endless skeleton army. Lead by the greatest Generals to have ever died.).....(they get bored.)

And SUDDENLY? Oh look! The Galactic suffering levels? Just fucking DROPPED. All those SENTIENT Clone soldiers! Dying in vain, in agony, ALONE? Not happening! Skeletons can get blasted apart, fade, reassemble, and march RIGHT BACK OUT! This is GREAT fun!

And even better? Unlike with Pariah? THIS time they march? King PHANTOM is sending them to HELP people! Woooooo! Destroy metal crunchy things! Help clean up rubble! Build a house! Rescue trapped people from rubble! Tireless effort! Honor and service! Thanks for the FREE METAL! *rips apart your robots*

There are no anti-ecto technologies here! The BEST they have is Force users! Which? Ha ha ha! GOOD LUCK. That's what? One? TWO? Of you?? To HOW MANY of us??? *cackles in bone army*

And! If they happen upon OTHER things they don't like? Whoop! Should'a thought of that! Before being a DICK! King Phantom says slavery is ILLEGAL. And we, the FORMER slave army of King Pariah, have Millennium Long ISSUES with that! (Easy to remove that chip, when you can reach THROUGH a person. Here you Slaver FUCK. YOU have it! In fact! Have ALL of them. From each and every slave.)

Anikin LOVES his new Bone friends. They are WONDERFUL. Him n them? Bonded. He's made them all speech boards. They're plotting the gruesome end of the Hutt cartel together. He's showing them the holo of his wedding. They're making Super Advanced Chip scan-.....

W....Why is his scanner going off? There should be nothing near by for it to recognize. The only thing HERE is him, his Bone Buddies, and Rex for supervision.... *mounting horror as he slowly waves the device around* *beep*

R-Rex?

...

......

The Clones? De-chipped in like... two days. There are too many skeletons to NOT have them be able to just? *reach in, feel for the Non-Clone bit, grab it, pull out* didn't even need surgery! But boy, oh, boy! Is Anikin upset. That sure is a Slave chip! Hey, Kamino! Have a Chosen One and his Bones Bros! Some Clones in orbit with Real Big Guns.

And Palatine? Is? PISSED.

His whole ass Empire is dissolving in his hands. The Sith Master Plan! Going up in smoke! Walls are closing in! All because of ONE(1) glowing BRAT.

Wanna bet he goes after him... with LIGHTNING? In human form, of course. Danny. Who DIED to electricity. Who has, throughout ALL of this? Been chilling in the Jedi temple, finally... FINALLY! Unwinding. Putting down the stress on his shoulders. Healing from his childhood. Cuddling cute babies and laying on the grass to nap, listen to the waterfall. Be at PEACE, surrounded by the Light of the Jedi.

Danny, who has been making friends. Enjoying the archives. For once in his stressful, STRESSFUL life? Letting OTHER PEOPLE deal with it. Playing with alien puppies and weird not-cats. Trying new foods! Seeing about adopting some droids that Tucker might get on with. Sorry "buying" some droids. (As though those Restraining Bolts aren't coming off the SECOND they droids are in his hands.)

It's been cool. Relaxing. Great for his mental health.

They have folks LITERALLY called Mind Healers here! Jazz would love it!

So obviously Sith face ruins it. Hurts his friends and blasts him with LIGHTNING. The kids are crying and terrified. This was supposed to be some sort of "learn about how the Republic works" day trip to the Senate! He was helping chaperone. They are being so, SO brave. Staying together. Trying to get their teacher out of harms ways.

He? Is? PISSED.

How DARE you. How FUCKING DARE YOU?! A fight between adults? Not his Reality, not his business. Clockwork drilled that into his head. He CAN'T keep the Multiverse together. Fight every fight for everyone, save everything. People have free will. Have to decide for THEMSELVES. Choose to do the right thing.

It doesn't mean SHIT if they don't save themselves. Wont last, in the end, because they won't have LEARNED a damn thing. He GETS that! But KIDS?! Ooooh ho ho! He DRAWS THE LINE AT KIDS! At shocking the SHIT out of him with LIGHTNING!

You want to poke the sleeping titan 'til it wakes up?

Well congrats!

YOU HAVE HIS ATTENTION NOW!

*inhale*

*Wail*

Palpatine goes through the HOLE where about fifteen walls USED to be. Half of Coruscant physically hears it and EVERYONE with even a TOUCH of Force sensitivity FEELS it. Across the entire planet and up into orbit.

Dying screams and the crackle of electricity. Regret. Fear. The desperate need to protect, in your final moment. Pain and pressure, the cool slide of Death come to take it all away. You were just fourteen. You were just fourteen! You died screaming, you came back screaming, in the place between... will you ever stop screaming?

You are the Galaxy, the Cosmos, the INFINITE. You are just a child.

How many souls died screaming?

Can't you hear ALL OF THEM?

Pissed or not, kids come first. Fuuuuuck that guy. Danny picks up the teacher, the kids, and back to the Temple they go. Teacher survives. Kids cling. Senate gets itself into a snit over the "unprovoked attack". But the thing is? A whole CLASS of Baby Jedi say the Chancellor is the Sith Lord. Look too spooked to be lying. Their teacher, too WOUNDED for this to be a prank.

The Jedi close rank.

Palpatine tries to use the Clones.

You know... the De-chipped by their Bone Bros Clones.

Commander Fox? Gets to finally, FINALLY(!!!) live out his long time fantasy... of shooting the fucker. Slug thrower. Tragically, fails to kill him. But the attempt WAS enthusiastic! We applaud his attempt. Commander Fox gets to join Danny in the Gardens, under a Crechelings pile, staring at the stain glass ceiling and Not Thinking Or Having Responsibilities.

Huh.... kid's right. This IS nice.

Fox enjoys being a climb-able lump for the Crechelings. Welcome to the club, my dude.

The other Jedi? THEY can figure it out. The Temple is literally unassailable. If needs be, his army can PICK IT UP AND MOVE IT. Danny is Vibin. Have a fruit. You hear about Skywalker? Making pretty good ground on his whole "one man and massive bone army campaign against Slavery" thing. Missed the whole.... his buddy was an asshole reveal. Apparently reception is spotty. *shrugs*

His wife's nice though! *various married Jedi agree, Obi-Wan continues to sulk because: "REALLY?! You didn't even INVITE ME!? My own Padawan! To his WEDDING! Anikin how COULD YO-!?"*

[transformers-mosaic]

Transformers: Beast Wars - Second Chances - Page 13

Originally posted on February 2nd, 2011

Story - Shaun Flaherty Art - Daniel Olsén Letters - HdE

deviantART

wada sez: “It’s over... finished!” is a Furmanism, obviously. See below for Flaherty’s original script and a sketch by Olsén.

PAGE THIRTEEN (six panels)

Panel 1.  Inside the wreckage of the Nemesis.  Inferno (robot mode) emerges from a Predacon creation/restoration tank.

Reference: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=meQV1KKTgKQ (2:46) wada sez: dead link Inferno (Seibertron) Inferno (TFWiki) http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4s7ACyr4lro (0:28) wada sez: dead link

CAP: The Nemesis.

CAP/DEPTH CHARGE: “What’s wrong with you idiots --”

Panel 2.  Depth Charge (robot mode) explains the situation to Inferno and Quickstrike (robot mode), but he finds them incredibly frustrating.  By this point, all three have been fully restored.

Reference: Depth Charge (Seibertron) Depth Charge (TFWiki) Quickstrike (Seibertron) Quickstrike (TFWiki)

DEPTH CHARGE: -- don’t you get it?

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Unless you help me stop that army, it’s over.

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Finished!

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Oh, don’t make me puke.

Panel 3.  Inferno and Quickstrike stare vacantly at us.  They are unmoved.

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): You know the magic words.

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): Say ‘em.

Panel 4.  A close-up of Depth Charge’s face.  He takes a shot in the dark.

DEPTH CHARGE: …

DEPTH CHARGE (continued): Defend the colony?

Panel 5.  A close-up of Inferno’s face.  He unleashes a battle cry.

INFERNO: Defend the colony!

Panel 6.  In the background, Inferno rockets into the air, carrying a reluctant Quickstrike by the “scruff” of his neck; they exit through a jagged breach in the hull of the Nemesis.  In the foreground, Depth Charge rests his face in his open hand, exasperated.

QUICKSTRIKE: Hey --

QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Hey!  I ain’t defendin’ squat.

QUICKSTRIKE (continued): Set me down, ya big lummox!

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): See?  I knew you had it in you --

DEPTH CHARGE/RAMPAGE (thought): -- me.

[shiorihyugawrites]

The Devil's Bride

Aurora Jaeger, Eren's long-lost childhood friend, was taken from him when they were children. After years of suffering under Marleyan control, Aurora is reunited with Eren while he’s undercover in Marley, igniting a bond neither of them expected. Despite her gentle nature, Aurora breaks her vow of pacifism to save Eren’s life, solidifying their deep connection. Secretly married before the Raid on Liberio, Aurora is swept into Eren's world of chaos and destruction. As the Scouts learn of her existence, tensions rise on the airship home. Mikasa’s heart shatters, and Levi demands answers. And Eren will stop at nothing to protect the only light left in his dark world—his bride, Aurora.

In this journey of love, loyalty, and war, Aurora must reconcile her innocent heart with the brutal reality of the man she loves, while Eren faces the truth of what he’s become. (Eren x OC)

Chapter Fifty One

A/N: I recommend listening to “Ashes on The Fire”  from the Final Season soundtrack for this chapter.

The early morning light cast a pale glow over the towering walls of Shiganshina. A crisp wind swept in from the sea, carrying the foreboding smell of salt and steel. The Global Allied Fleet loomed on the horizon, an endless line of battleships bristling with cannons and soldiers prepared to end every life on this island. Even from a distance, the silhouettes of airships dotted the sky behind them, ready to unleash devastation from above. Paradis stood on the precipice of annihilation, but its defenders waited with grim resolve, determined to give their all.

The Attack Titan stood at the forefront. Steam curled around Eren’s enormous form, and both fists gleamed with hardened crystal, catching the faint sunlight as though they were weapons forged from ice. He did not move yet; he was waiting, as though every second of stillness was part of a plan. Around him, the other titan shifters were in position. Porco’s Jaw Titan crouched close by, its massive jaws glinting with lethal potential. Reiner’s Armored Titan, battered by past battles, flexed its plated limbs in anticipation. The Cart Titan, carrying armored plating designed by Hange on its back, belonged to Pieck. Her voice echoed occasionally, keeping everyone updated on positions or vantage points she could see. Each titan exuded a tense readiness, a unity that stood in stark contrast to the circumstances that had once pitted them against each other.

High atop the walls and scattered through strategic points along the city, the Jaegerists were poised with their newly crafted Inferno Blades and the more traditional thunderspears. Many among them were young recruits who had never faced a threat of this magnitude. Yet the determination etched on their faces told a story of courage fueled by desperation. They knew the cost of failure: if the Global Allied Fleet succeeded, there would be no survivors. The island, its people, and all they held dear would vanish into the pages of history.

Levi stood at a vantage point on the upper ramparts, scanning the horizon with icy calm. His hair whipped around his forehead in the gusting sea breeze. He spared no words for the Jaegerists behind him, only a silent nod that communicated his order. Everyone knew what it meant: hold your ground at all costs. Despite his calm exterior, Levi’s mind churned with memories of old battles, of times when the Scouts were outnumbered yet found a path to victory. This time, though, the entire world had mobilized, and the challenge dwarfed anything he had seen before.

Mikasa, stationed a short distance away, tugged on the straps of her ODM gear to make certain everything was secure. She shared a quick glance with Levi, an unspoken exchange that neither fully voiced. Her heart pounded as she stared into the distance where the ships advanced, their iron hulls cutting through the waves. She silently vowed to protect her friends, to protect Eren, no matter the cost. The red scarf that once carried a familial warmth around her neck now bore the weight of a soldier’s burden.

Hange paced along one of the elevated platforms, relaying final instructions to squads of Jaegerists. Her voice remained steady, but her eyes flashed with worry. She had studied the data Armin and the others had gathered about global forces, analyzing potential strategies the enemy might employ. Even so, no amount of research could quell the tremor of anxiety that lingered in her chest. This was it: the day of reckoning. Under her direction, the Jaegerists readied the flares and double-checked the Inferno Blades. She wanted every squad to be as prepared as they could be, though she knew it still might not be enough.

Connie, Sasha, and Jean were gathered in a small courtyard near the front lines, each weighed down by memories of simpler times. Connie let out a dry laugh as he gazed at the monstrous shapes of the allied navy, recalling the days when he used to complain about guard duty. Now, he would have traded anything to go back to those days. Sasha adjusted her maneuvering gear, determination burning in her eyes. She normally carried a cheerful spirit, but even she could not mask the gravity of this moment. Jean fiddled with a handful of flares, instructions from Levi fresh in his mind. He could sense the tension in the air, an electricity that crackled with the knowledge that many of them would not live to see another dawn. 

Far below the wall’s ramparts, Eren’s titan let out a low, rumbling sound. It wasn’t a roar—more like a subdued growl, a sign that the wait was over. The horizon was alive with the movement of ships, columns of black smoke from their funnels staining the sky. Through the smoky haze, the glints of sunlight on metal bristled with artillery. The engines of airships rumbled overhead, casting ominous shadows as they drew closer to Shiganshina.

Porco’s Jaw Titan shifted restlessly, poised to lunge the second an order was given. Despite everything, he remembered the countless hours training side by side with these very people he once called enemies. Now, they were his allies in a battle against a global foe, a foe that had once been his own homeland’s partner. He tried not to dwell on the irony, knowing it would only distract him from the task at hand. He gave a short, sharp nod to Reiner’s Armored Titan, a silent reaffirmation that they stood together for the cause of this island’s survival.

Reiner, for his part, stood heavy and resolute. He had once infiltrated these walls as a spy, living among the very people he planned to destroy. Now, he was defending them with every fiber of his being. The knowledge that the world was at their gates, hungry for their annihilation, only solidified his resolve. A flicker of guilt tore through him—memories of how many times he had broken these same walls. But those regrets had no place here. All that mattered was that he stood to protect what had become home.

Pieck’s Cart Titan crouched lower than the others, fitted with a specialized rig Hange designed for her carrying munitions and extra weaponry for the soldiers near her. She was the sole titan able to communicate while transformed, and her voice carried a steadiness that helped calm those around her. “They’re close to landing,” she said, scanning the approach with keen eyes. “I see multiple landing crafts lowering from the largest ships.” Her words echoed across the war-torn district to everyone with ears to listen.

Levi, overhead, signaled to the squads to spread out. “Positions!” he barked. “We hold them at the shoreline. Nobody crosses into Shiganshina.” He pivoted to glance at Eren’s titan. Even from a distance, he could almost sense Eren’s tension, the single-minded drive that forced the Founding Titan’s holder to remain unwavering.

A shrill whistle cut through the air: the first shell from the allied warships. It screamed overhead and crashed into one of the abandoned blocks at the edge of town, blasting debris and dust high into the sky. An uproar of shattered stone echoed around the district, marking the official start of the assault. The next shells followed in rapid succession, some landing in open areas, others smashing directly into portions of the outer walls. Shiganshina’s ancient stone ramparts groaned under the bombardment, but still they stood.

“Now!” Levi shouted, hoisting his blades. The first wave of Jaegerists sprang into action with their maneuvering gear, hooking themselves onto the battered structures to get a vantage point. Thunderspears and Inferno Blades were readied, flares erupted in plumes of color-coded smoke to signal strategic movements.

Eren’s titan lurched forward with a thunderous stomp, his crystallized fists raised as he charged toward the crumbling remains of the outer gate. The vision of the fleet’s landing crafts touching the shore spurred him onward. He intended to meet them head-on before they could fully organize. Chunks of rubble crunched under his feet, leaving deep impressions in the streets as he advanced.

Porco bounded by Eren’s flank, leaping with impressive agility that belied its bulky form. He cut a quick path around the perimeter, ensuring no infiltration routes were left unguarded. His massive jaws clenched in readiness for any soldier or armored vehicle that dared approach. 

Reiner took up a defensive stance behind Eren, plating glinting under the sporadic sunlight that filtered through clouds of dust and smoke. 

Pieck maneuvered to an elevated position near some of the smaller stone towers. “We have multiple landing teams, heavily armed with artillery,” she called out, her voice ringing with tension. “They’re setting up large-scale cannons on the shore. I see at least five, no—eight squads disembarking.”

Meanwhile, Armin was at his vantage point near the coastline, just outside the city. He stood on a stone outcropping that overlooked the beach, scanning the horizon. On the signal from Hange or Eren, he would transform into the Colossal Titan. But for now, he had to wait. The timing had to be perfect to unleash such an overwhelming power. A single misstep could cause catastrophic damage to their own side.

Cannon fire intensified. The thunderous booms became nearly constant, each echo vibrating in the chest of every soldier on the wall. Shrapnel whirled through the air, burying itself into old stone or wooden beams. Smoke blanketed large portions of Shiganshina, turning the once-familiar streets into a hazy warzone. The Allies pressed forward, disembarking from their ships and fanning out along the shoreline. Armored vehicles rolled down ramps, troops marched with unwavering formation, and overhead, smaller airships adjusted their positions for potential bombing runs.

Jean grit his teeth from atop a partially ruined guard tower. “They’re setting up artillery in a semicircle,” he observed, using a hand to shield his eyes from the dust. “If we let them get too close, they’ll pound us into oblivion.”

Connie, hovering nearby using his ODM gear, glanced at Jean. “I’ll let Hange know,” he said, firing a flare that shot a red streak into the smoky sky. The color signified urgent intel for their field commanders.

Sasha, perched on a beam for a clearer shot, loaded bullets into her specialized rifle. She had insisted on it, wanting to maintain an element of stealth while also relying on her impeccable aim as a sniper. The first wave of Allied soldiers began to step foot on the stone piers that protruded from the shallow water. Sasha took a steadying breath and took a shot, hitting one of the lead officers in the heart. A ripple of panic spread through the men behind him.

Hange spotted Sasha’s opening shot and yelled, “Squads One and Two, follow up! Target their leadership!” Another volley of flares soared overhead. The clang of grappling hooks followed as the squads launched themselves into new positions for better vantage points.

Far below, the city’s winding streets erupted in the chaos of short-range skirmishes. Brave Jaegerists, some barely out of their teenage years, flung Inferno Blades with all their might. The small devices ignited upon contact with stone or steel, spraying arcs of fire that forced Allied soldiers to dive for cover. Not all of the blades found their mark; some bounced and fizzled or created pockets of random conflagration, setting deserted buildings alight. But many soared true, decimating entire squads that ventured too far into the district.

Up front, Eren’s titan slammed a massive crystallized fist down on a group of tanks rolling from a landing craft. The impact crushed steel and bodies alike, sending shockwaves that splashed seawater and shards of metal across the shoreline. Another tank angled its turret to aim at Eren’s nape, but Porco’s Jaw Titan lunged from behind a half-collapsed archway, clamping its jaws onto the turret and ripping it off. The tank exploded in a burst of flame, its crew incinerated inside.

Reiner advanced to the left flank, engaging an entire squad of soldiers armed with rocket launchers. His armor deflected the first salvo, though shards of plating chipped away under the concentrated blasts. Gritting his teeth within his titan, Reiner pressed forward, stomping down a line of barbed-wire defenses the Allies had hastily erected. Each step fueled his guilt-scarred determination: no one else would break these walls, not while he stood.

Pieck’s voice carried over the din of battle. “They have at least three more heavy artillery pieces on the southwestern shore!” She pivoted the Cart Titan, letting the Jaegerists on her back aim a barrage of thunderspears that took out the artillery at close range. The thunderous explosions sent towering columns of smoke and debris high into the sky, but the Allies kept coming, wave after wave of reinforcements pouring from the monstrous fleet.

Levi soared through the chaos, his dual blades flashing with lethal precision. He weaved around airborne shells, slicing through pockets of Allied soldiers who ventured too far forward. At times, he used the grappling hooks of his ODM gear to latch onto the frames of destroyed tanks, zipping through smoke so thick it was impossible to see more than a foot ahead. Whenever a soldier managed to line up a shot at him, Levi vanished, reappearing behind them in a deadly slash that sent their rifles clattering to the rubble.

“We can’t hold them at the shore forever,” Jean shouted from a rooftop, frantically signaling to Levi. “There are just too many!”

Levi recognized the truth in Jean’s words. The Allies were numerous and relentless, pushing deeper into Shiganshina’s ruins with every passing minute. “Hange,” he roared, scanning for her silhouette in the swirling dust. When he spotted the distinctive glint of Hange’s goggles, he called out, “Now might be a good time to let Armin know we need him!”

Hange landed beside Levi, breath ragged as they surveyed the countless landing crafts still disgorging troops. “Agreed,” they said, wiping sweat from their brow. “I’ll send a signal to Armin. But we have to time it so he doesn’t destroy half our own forces. We’re spread all over.”

Levi gritted his teeth. “Better half than all of us. Make it quick.”

Hange fired a bright green flare into the sky. Far off near the coastline, Armin spotted the signal, his eyes narrowing. His grip on the knife to cut himself  steadied. He inhaled, preparing to let the colossal flames overtake him at the right moment. Not yet, he told himself. Another minute or two. He had to be sure the Allies’ next wave was in position, and that the lead squads from Paradis had retreated enough to avoid being vaporized by his transformation’s catastrophic heat.

Meanwhile, Mikasa and Connie launched themselves side by side through the scorched remains of a plaza near the gates, cutting down any Allied soldiers who slipped through the main line. Mikasa’s movements were almost otherworldly, a flurry of dark hair and sharpened steel. She severed limbs and shattered gear, ensuring that no soldier remained standing in her path. Connie provided support, using Inferno Blades that exploded on impact, setting entire squads ablaze. Screams of agony rippled through the Allied ranks.

In the midst of this mayhem, Sasha provided cover from a vantage point, picking off enemy officers and radio operators. Her arrows found hearts and necks with unerring accuracy, sowing confusion among the attackers. Any officer who tried to coordinate an assault found themselves shot to the ground within seconds, courtesy of Sasha’s lethal aim. Through the swirling dust, she glimpsed Eren’s titan grappling with a gigantic turreted vehicle. The thunder of steel crunching steel roared as Eren ripped it apart piece by piece.

Porco’s titan circled back to protect Reiner’s exposed flank when a wave of rocket-wielding soldiers advanced. “Porco, they’re on your nine o’clock!” a Jaegerist called from a battered rooftop. Porco whipped his titan around, lunging with razor-sharp jaws that snapped shut around the unfortunate soldiers. Screams cut short as the Jaw Titan crushed them. More rockets ignited upon the titan’s thick hide, forcing Porco to recoil and hiss in pain, but he pressed forward regardless.

Reiner, battered yet unyielding, roared as he barreled through a line of artillery. Explosions lit up the ground around his titan, chipping away at armor, but nothing could halt his onward march. “Don’t break,” he muttered to himself within his cockpit, recalling all the times he had let others down. “Not this time.”

“Reiner, watch your left!” Pieck’s voice warned from across the battlefield. She swiftly mounted an offensive, supporting Reiner by launching a volley of explosives from her Cart Titan’s rig. The blasts tore through an entire squad of Allied gunners who had been preparing to flank him. A wave of thick smoke and burning wreckage enveloped the area, but Reiner stood tall when it cleared, panting yet steadfast.

Eren, witnessing the Allies continue to come in droves, let loose a deafening roar. His mind was consumed by one singular objective: do not let them breach Shiganshina. He hurled a chunk of collapsed architecture at a cluster of Allied soldiers. They tried to scatter, but the debris crushed them in a cloud of stone and dust. Pools of blood seeped across the rubble.

Still, the Allied forces showed no sign of retreat. For each squad Paradis felled, another replaced it. For each artillery piece destroyed, two more rolled off a ship. The sea crashed violently against the beach, as though outraged at the carnage, yet it carried wave after wave of new enemies. Overhead, bombs began to drop from a pair of airships that had maneuvered into position. Levi spotted the glint of approaching ordnance and shouted, “Take cover!” A heartbeat later, bombs slammed into the southern portion of Shiganshina, turning entire streets into lakes of fire.

The blasts knocked many Jaegerists off their footing; some fell to their deaths from high walls. Others were buried under collapsing structures. Mikasa, clinging to a broken spire, coughed through the choking dust, searching desperately for Armin’s signal. If these bombs continued, they’d need the Colossal Titan’s intervention sooner rather than later. This was only the trump card. 

Plus the Allies had yet to deploy their heaviest forces. And still no sign of Zeke. Eren’s suspicion had been correct: they would wait until the perfect moment to unleash pure titans. The entire battlefield braced for that possibility.

But then suddenly, an unsettling hush fell across the battlefield.

For a brief moment, there was only the low rumble of distant artillery and the uneven breathing of soldiers preparing for yet another clash. Then, seemingly from nowhere, came a new and unfamiliar sound—a droning hum that soared above the normal chaos of war.

Levi, perched atop a half-crumbled watchtower, lifted his gaze toward the horizon. Sunlight glinted off something moving in the sky. He narrowed his eyes, trying to discern the shapes. At first, it seemed like they might be small airships, but as they drew closer, the formation of twelve moved with unsettling speed. They flew in a tight triangle, their steel frames flashing in the early light.

Mikasa landed beside Levi, her maneuver gear hissing as she balanced effortlessly on a broken ledge. “Captain,” she said, her voice echoing faintly in the wind. “Do you see that? They aren’t airships… they’re too small.”

Porco suddenly went rigid. Reiner let out a low growl. Pieck’s Cart Titan peered around a shattered building, her voice carrying across the makeshift fortifications. “Airplanes,” Pieck murmured, her tone heavy. “They’re definitely airplanes.”

Jean, standing below Levi with a group of Jaegerists, raised his voice so everyone could hear. “Airpllanes? You mean some kind of flying boat?”

From her vantage point, Pieck tried to keep her composure, but her heart pounded. “Yes,” she called back. “They’re armed. Marley and other nations been experimenting with them for years. None of us expected they'd be fully operational so soon.”

A ripple of confusion spread through the Jaegerists. They’d prepared for monstrous warships and sweeping airships, but this was something else entirely—something swift and lethal, like a hawk diving for its prey.

Levi wasted no time. “Fire!” he commanded, pointing his blade toward the approaching machines. “Don’t let them get past us!”

In an instant, the Jaegerists sprang into action. They raised rifles, shot out thunder spears, and hurled Inferno Blades. Trails of smoke and sparks streaked through the sky, but the planes proved elusive, zigzagging with startling agility. One plane dipped low, the rotating barrel of its gun spitting out a relentless storm of bullets.

A horrific staccato of gunfire tore through the air.

Down below, half a dozen Jaegerists toppled in a flash, their bodies riddled with bullets. Others scrambled behind makeshift barricades, struggling to reload. The planes roared overhead, methodically thinning out Paradis’ defensive lines. The haunting echo of screams and the clang of metal against stone battered the senses of every soldier on the ground.

Eren, within the nape of his massive titan, felt rage boiling in his chest at the sight of his comrades falling so easily. Steam billowed around his titan’s shoulders as he swung an armored fist upward, but the planes bobbed and weaved above his reach, cutting back across the battlefield to unleash another barrage.

A pair of the flying machines turned toward Levi’s watchtower, unleashing a hail of bullets that shattered stone and sent debris raining down. Levi dove off the tower just in time, grappling to a safer rooftop with his maneuver gear. He landed in a crouch, adrenaline pounding in his ears. “Damn it,” he hissed, scanning for any opening. These planes were faster than anything he had ever encountered.

Mikasa, taking cover behind a fractured wall, saw a group of Jaegerists pinned down near a collapsed archway, bullets peppering their position. Gritting her teeth, she hooked onto a nearby spire and launched herself upward, hoping to get a shot at the plane’s underbelly. She fired an Inferno Blade in midair, but the plane darted off with a screech, leaving her projectile to explode harmlessly in the distance.

More Jaegerists screamed, ducking low as metallic shells rained down on them. Jean shouted at Connie and Sasha to help flank the next wave of incoming ground forces, though it was clear the real threat came from above. The swirling chaos grew more intense by the second.

Eren felt his fury spike to an unbearable pitch. He released a roar that shook the battlefield, a guttural cry that signaled one thing to the scattered defenders: Armin’s transformation. If they waited any longer, these planes would shred them all.

Armin stood amidst swirling dust. His heart hammered at the thought of using his Colossal Titan transformation here—so close to friendly troops—but he had no choice anymore. If he hesitated, the Global Allied Fleet would swarm them.

Armin clenched his fist around his ODM gear, inhaled sharply, then sliced his hand. Light blazed, painfully bright and hotter than the sun. Soldiers from both sides halted in horror or awe, and the planes veered sharply, trying to gain distance.

Then lightning struck and the Colossal Titan emerged, colossal in every sense of the word, filling the sky with a deafening roar. Armin’s transformation was like a nuclear detonation, sending out a wall of blistering heat. The oceanfront erupted in a plume of steam and flame, instantly vaporizing countless naval ships. The front line of the Global Allied Fleet disintegrated beneath the overwhelming blast.

A chorus of terrified cries echoed over the water. One plane flew too close to the inferno and its wings ignited, spiraling out of control until it crashed in a ball of fire. Four more planes were caught in the shockwave, their pilots losing control before slamming into ships or the choppy waves below.

For a moment, it looked like a miraculous triumph. The entire shore glowed red from the catastrophic heat Armin unleashed. Soldiers on Paradis let out ragged shouts of hope—maybe, just maybe, they had won.

But then Armin, peering from within the nape of his titan, froze. Through the dispersing steam, he spotted a second wave of vessels approaching. They were larger, more densely packed, and still heading at top speed. This was the real fleet, the one intended to strike after the Colossal Titan had blown its single, devastating attack. Armin’s massive form stood rigid, horror gripping him at how effectively Marley and its allies had predicted this move.

Levi swung over and perched on the gargantuan shoulder of the Colossal Titan, surveyed the distant ocean with a pained grimace. Another line of warships, easily double or triple the size of the first. “Son of a…” he breathed, tension radiating through every fiber of his body. “We took the bait.”

Below, Jean and Connie gaped at the sight. The battered remains of the initial fleet still burned, but now a fresh terror advanced, and the scattered remains of the planes in the sky had regrouped. Their mechanical hum rose again, and more bullets rained down, forcing the defenders into a desperate retreat behind broken walls.

Then came the parachutes.

Marleyan soldiers and their allies began descending by the dozens, darkening the sky with canopies. Gunshots crackled from all directions as these newcomers touched down, swiftly taking positions among the ruins of Shiganshina. Grenades exploded, thunder spears howled, and the pop-pop of rifles filled the air. The battle was no longer confined to the sea. It was everywhere.

Mikasa soared between collapsing rooftops, slicing at a cluster of disoriented enemy soldiers mid-air. Her blades reflected the dawn light in bright arcs. “Take them out before they land!” she shouted over her shoulder to the Jaegerists, who fired flares to signal their positions. Bullets zipped by, splintering the broken walls around her.

Hange, crouched behind a crumpled artillery piece, clenched her teeth. “These damned flying boats… we can’t fight them like normal airships. They’re too fast.” Her gaze lifted to the Colossal Titan’s massive silhouette. Steam was pouring off Armin in thick waves. She knew he needed time to cool down or the Colossal’s energy would leave him immobile. For a moment, she considered commanding Armin to keep pushing, but realized they still needed him for the final blow—whatever that might be.

As the new wave of enemy ships began shelling the coastline with large-caliber cannons, the entire battlefield trembled. Water erupted in geysers around the port, and one of the old watchtowers crumbled into the sea. Debris flew in every direction, peppering friend and foe alike with shards of stone and iron.

Eren’s titan let out another roar, deeper and more furious than before. He knew that if they didn’t find Zeke, the outcome here might not matter. Zeke’s scream had the potential to transform hidden Eldian soldiers among the Allied ranks into titans, turning the tide instantly.

But then Eren caught a glimpse of something overhead—one of those planes breaking formation, climbing higher, and veering off away from the battle. His stomach clenched when he recognized the path it was taking. It was headed inland, toward the heart of the island. Toward Capital Mitras.

Eren’s mind raced. Aurora was there. So was Historia. A wave of dread nearly overpowered him. He wanted nothing more than to break away, to chase that plane down, to ensure Aurora’s safety. But he steeled himself with a snarl, reminding himself that the only way to truly protect her was to finish this fight, to end the threat at its source.

Still, a nagging terror formed at the back of his mind. What if that plane had some hidden purpose? What if it carried a strike team meant to capture or harm Aurora in a more direct manner? He felt as though he was choking on panic, but he forced himself to stay the course. He roared again, signaling the Jaegerists to hold the line. This was no time to lose focus.

Porco bounded across broken rooftops, pouncing on clusters of enemy soldiers who’d managed to form a perimeter. He tore through them with razor-sharp claws. Even as bullets pinged off his hardened jaw, he pressed on, unwavering in his assault. Reiner took blows from anti-titan artillery, staggering backward but refusing to fall. He lobbed a piece of debris at a group of parachuting soldiers, knocking them out of the sky with brutal precision.

Pieck scurried along the base of the walls, providing covering fire from a mounted turret on her titan’s back. She called out status updates, directing the Jaegerists toward weak points in the Allied forces.

All around them, the battle raged with unimaginable intensity. Inferno Blades detonated in the midst of ground troops, their small explosive charges lighting the debris on fire and shredding armor. Thunder spears whizzed overhead, slamming into the hulls of landing crafts or the flanks of monstrous war machines the Allies had brought. An acrid smell of gunpowder, blood, and burning flesh filled the air.

Levi signaled to Hange from Armin’s shoulder, gesturing at the reinforcements flooding in. Hange responded with frantic hand signals: they would try to hold them off a bit longer but needed to conserve their thunder spears. The new wave of ships was still pressing forward. The advantage given by Armin’s initial strike was slipping away fast.

On the beach, Armin was forced to slow, the heat of his colossal form wavering. If he tried to push himself now, he risked collapsing altogether. The steam dissipated somewhat, revealing the devastation he had caused—scores of ships smoldering in the bay, a wide swath of shoreline reduced to blackened wreckage. Yet, the next formation of ships still advanced, brand-new muzzle flashes indicating they were already firing a new volley.

A thunderous series of explosions erupted along the coastline, showering the defenders with saltwater and twisted metal. Several Jaegerists were blown apart, their screams lost in the all-consuming din. Connie and Sasha, crouched behind broken crates, exchanged desperate glances as they witnessed the second fleet opening fire. Jean fired a flare gun overhead, though it seemed there was little left to coordinate—everything was madness, swirling into disaster.

Eren’s titan lunged forward, swinging a hardened fist that smashed one of the newly landed Allies’ tanks into scrap. He let out a savage roar, searching the battlefield for any sign of Zeke. Not a single glimpse. The Beast Titan was nowhere to be seen. Eren’s mind raced with the grim understanding that they were up against an enemy who had planned for every contingency.

Still, there was no time to dwell on strategy. Another wave of bullets from the sky hammered the streets, the planes swooping in to strafe the positions of the scouts. Mikasa dashed behind a wall, her breath ragged. One of the planes roared low overhead, threatening to clip her if she moved too soon. Her fingers gripped the hilt of her blade tightly, anger surging through her. This was a new kind of war, one she hadn’t trained for.

Levi, still near Armin’s shoulder, peered across the horizon. He spotted the plane that had broken off, climbing steadily higher, skimming the edges of the battlefield. Something deep in his gut told him that plane spelled doom for someone. But he was powerless to do anything about it. He ground his teeth, fury fueling his every thought. “Damn it,” he muttered under his breath. “I’ve got to find Zeke. This is wasting time.”

Armin turned his colossal head slightly, as if sensing Levi’s agitation. But there was little he could do. If Armin tried to chase that plane, it would be a colossal target—too slow to catch anything that moved so fast, too drained to pull off another transformation. He remained still, steam pouring from cracks in his titan’s vast frame, grimly scanning the scene for any way to help.

Below, the ground quaked as Porco tore into a squad of Allied soldiers, but several more took his titan’s legs out with heavy artillery. He let out a roar, staggering to keep balance. Reiner shielded Porco’s titan with his own armored body, bullets ricocheting off reinforced plates. Both shifters locked eyes for a moment in shared desperation, each understanding how close they were to defeat if these attacks continued.

Pieck scuttled around the far side of the battlefield, a swarm of bullets pinging off her Cart Titan. She focused on giving covering fire to the Jaegerists, but the difference in technology overwhelmed them. Several squads retreated deeper into Shiganshina, trying to lure the Allied soldiers away from the coastline and into narrow streets where close-quarters combat gave the scouts a better chance.

It was a small relief but hardly enough.

And all the while, Eren’s glare kept drifting toward that single plane that had changed course. It gained altitude, streaking away from the chaos of the harbor. Even as he fought off wave after wave of enemy soldiers on the ground, even as he smashed through an Allied tank that had slipped past the perimeter, his every thought lingered on that rogue aircraft headed inland.

Capital Mitras. Aurora. A spark of terror ignited in him, sharper and colder than the fury of the battlefield. He slammed another fist into the ground, sending debris into the air, roaring like an animal caught in a trap. He wanted to break away, to chase after that plane with every fiber of his being, but the unstoppable flood of soldiers and war machines tied him down. There was no way to abandon this front—no way to protect Aurora if he lost the fight right here.

Steam poured from his titan’s mouth as he released a howl of frustration.

Somewhere behind him, Levi and Mikasa regrouped, each breathing heavily as they reloaded Inferno Blades. Hange caught up to them, panting, her hair singed by the earlier blasts. They exchanged quick glances.

“More warships are docking on the eastern shore,” Levi muttered through clenched teeth. “We have to hold them off.”

Mikasa glanced toward Eren’s titan, seeing the distress in his every movement. She suspected what tormented him. “We can’t go after that plane,” she said softly. “We just have to trust the Jaegerists that are guarding Mitras.”

Hange swallowed, her eyes flicking to Eren. “Focus,” she insisted, gripping her blade. “We hold Shiganshina. If we fail here, there won’t be a home left for them to return to.”

All around them, the battle continued to escalate. The second fleet, unscathed by Armin’s initial blast, began a relentless artillery bombardment, their shells whistling across the water. Anti-titan projectiles hammered the walls of Shiganshina. The jagged remains of buildings collapsed under the relentless pounding, sending clouds of dust and sparks skyward.

Jean and Connie led a squad of Jaegerists in an attempt to flank the newly arrived infantry, but they were forced to take cover as yet another pass from the warplanes shredded their formation. Sasha and a few marksmen tried to snipe the planes from a distance, but their bullets were too weak against the reinforced hulls of the flying machines.

Through it all, Eren raged, scanning desperately for any sign of Zeke. But the Beast Titan didn’t appear. Armin loomed in the distance, a silent sentinel unable to move swiftly enough without risking his colossal form’s collapse. Pieck, Porco, and Reiner scrambled to keep the front line from disintegrating entirely.

As the sun rose higher, the world drowned in explosions and blood. The Allied forces advanced in a flood of brutality, determined to eradicate the devils of Paradis once and for all. Yet, the defenders of Shiganshina refused to surrender an inch.

Eren’s gaze flickered again to the plane vanishing into the horizon, fear and rage tangled in his heart. Aurora was out there, vulnerable, trusting in him to protect her. And he was trapped in a maelstrom of steel, fire, and death, powerless to stop the danger coming for her.

Still, he pressed on, teeth clenched behind his titan’s snarling mask. Whatever it took, he would end this battle. He would destroy the Allied forces. He would find Zeke, make contact, and unleash the Founding Titan’s power. It was the only way to ensure Aurora’s safety—and the future he had promised her.

His heart pounded with a savage mix of devotion and despair, and he roared into the sky, the sound echoing over the flaming wreckage and the thundering cannons.

The fate of Paradis—and the life of the woman he loved—hung in the balance, perched on the knife’s edge of a war that showed no mercy.

…

The low hum of the plane’s propeller underscored every uneasy breath Gabi took. She sat near one of the small windows, eyes trained on the horizon that stretched before them, a hazy line separating the rolling sea from the sky. The engine’s vibrations coursed through the metal floor, and each tremor prickled at her nerves. Her rifle lay across her lap, an ever-present reminder of her mission. She had never been in a plane before, never expected to be airborne. The entire experience felt unnatural, yet her resolve outweighed any discomfort she felt.

Falco was strapped into the seat beside her. He kept glancing at her out of the corner of his eye, his face tight with anxiety. He held his own weapon, though his hands often shook as he cradled it. Occasionally, he would clear his throat, as if wanting to speak, but the oppressive tension silenced him. The interior of the plane was cramped, the walls lined with strapped-down cargo and extra ammunition. The other soldiers aboard, seasoned Marleyan operatives, remained focused on the flight controls and on small technical adjustments to ensure they reached their destination safely.

The plane hit a patch of turbulence, causing Gabi to grip her seat and grit her teeth. Her heart thudded in her chest. She wasn’t afraid of heights or even the possibility of crashing; she was consumed by her hatred for the island devils that waited below. That hatred, fierce and uncompromising, fueled every fiber of her being. She had lost so much—her friends, her home, the life she once knew. Eren Jaeger had torn it all away, and Aurora Jaeger, in her eyes, had stood by him in silent approval.

Falco swallowed hard, casting a sideways glance at Gabi. “Are you alright?” he asked softly. His voice was gentle, almost hesitant. He felt it was better to break the silence than let the tension crush them both.

Gabi let out a bitter exhale. “I’m fine,” she snapped, though her voice quavered. She hated the shaky edge she detected in her own words. “We’re almost there. At least, that’s what they said.”

Falco’s gaze drifted down to his boots. “Gabi,” he said after a moment, “I… I don’t like this plan.” His words trembled with sincerity, and he steeled himself for her reaction. “Kidnapping a pregnant woman—kidnapping anyone—it feels wrong.”

She stiffened, glaring at him as though he were a naive child. “We’re not in the business of liking or disliking the plan,” she retorted. “We do what Commander Magath ordered. That’s our duty.”

Falco frowned. “But Aurora—”

Gabi shook her head, frustration boiling inside her. “She isn’t some innocent bystander! She’s complicit. She knew Eren Jaeger was going to attack Liberio, and she did nothing. She married him, she’s carrying his child. That baby is just another devil waiting to be born.”

Falco winced at the venom in her voice. He remembered the ruin that had befallen Liberio, the screams and terror as the Attack Titan rampaged through the streets. Yet, part of him still believed not everyone on that island was guilty of such horror. “Still,” he murmured, “is it really right to call a baby a devil?”

She didn’t answer at first. Her shoulders hunched with pent-up emotion, and she let out a ragged breath. “It’s war,” she finally said. “Nothing is right or fair.” She glared at her reflection in the scratched window, noting the fleeting shape of the coastline in the distance. “We do what we must.”

The pilot’s voice crackled through a small speaker. He announced that they would reach the oenter of Paradis, where the presume to capital to be, in less than half an hour. Gabi’s stomach twisted with anticipation, a swirl of dread and ferocious determination. Magath had made it clear: they needed to snatch either Aurora Jaeger or Queen Historia Reiss. Both were of royal blood, a fact that made them invaluable to Marley’s ambitions. If forced to choose, Gabi knew Aurora was the priority—especially given the rumors that Zeke was strangely wary of her. That alone spoke volumes.

Falco pursed his lips, staring at the seat in front of him. “Do you think we’ll succeed where Porco and the others failed?” he asked softly.

“Porco, Reiner, and Pieck are traitors now,” Gabi hissed. “They had their shot to kill Eren Jaeger and they blew it. We won’t.”

He didn’t respond. Instead, he gazed at the small cargo hold where parachutes and gear were stored. They were just kids, yet here they were, on a top-secret mission that put them in the direct line of fire. His heart hammered at the thought, but he nodded to himself. They had no choice but to follow orders.

Outside, the plane dove beneath a bank of clouds, revealing the island’s interior. From above, Paradis seemed quiet, almost peaceful—far more tranquil than the storm of violence raging at Shiganshina’s shores. Rolling hills, thick forests, and farmland stretched as far as the eye could see, culminating in the distant sparkle of a sprawling city: Mitras.

Gabi’s pulse quickened at the sight. “There it is,” she muttered, voice tinged with grim resolve. “That’s where that woman is hiding.” She patted her rifle, ignoring the surge of guilt that Falco’s downcast eyes stirred in her. “We’re not leaving empty-handed.”

Falco’s grip tightened on his own weapon. He said nothing. He wished, more than anything, that this war would end. But here he was, about to plunge deeper into the conflict.

The pilot angled the plane toward a wooded area outside Mitras. Their objective was clear: land discreetly, slip into the city, and locate Aurora and Historia. The plane’s engine shifted to a lower pitch as the pilot aimed for a rough clearing, hoping to avoid detection. Gabi felt her stomach lurch as the plane descended, bouncing roughly on the uneven ground.

Her heart pounded at the sudden jolt, but her sense of mission overrode the fear. The door slid open, flooding them with fresh air. Soldiers poured out first, scouting the perimeter. Gabi and Falco followed, squinting against the morning sunlight. The pilot immediately began prepping the plane for a quick getaway. In the hush of the forest, birds scattered, startled by the intrusion.

One Marleyan officer nodded at Gabi, handing her a map with the city’s layout they gathered from their intelligence. “We’ll stay hidden here. Your mission is infiltration.” He pointed at Falco. “Both of you, remember—Commander Magath wants Aurora Jaeger above all else. Secure Queen Historia if possible, but Jaeger is your priority. Understood?”

Gabi clenched her jaw, nodding. “Yes, sir.”

Falco mumbled a quiet acknowledgment, though his stomach churned with apprehension.

With that, the two parted from the soldiers. They navigated through thick foliage, heading toward the city’s outskirts. Every step took them closer to the capital. Neither spoke, the weight of the mission an invisible chain drawing them forward.

Meanwhile, in the palace at Mitras, Aurora lay on a plush bed in the grand guest suite. She clutched at her abdomen, her face pale. War and tragedy swirled in her mind, but none of that compared to the immediate worry that gnawed at her. She was experiencing intense cramps, and the possibility of going into labor so soon terrified her. The doctor hovered close, checking her pulse and temperature, murmuring reassuring words that felt hollow in the echoing corridors of her mind.

Historia sat near the edge of the bed, stroking Aurora’s platinum-blonde hair gently. “You’ll be alright,” she whispered, though her own anxiety was evident in the tremor of her voice. “Try to breathe. Relax. The stress can’t be helping.”

Aurora swallowed hard. “I know,” she managed, blinking back tears. “I’m just so worried. Eren is out there, and everything is on the line. He’s fighting for our home, for me and the baby. I can’t do anything but wait.”

Historia’s gaze flickered with her own brand of grief. “Porco is out there too. Along with all our friends.” She took Aurora’s hand and squeezed it. “I feel so useless.”

From the ornate windows, sunlight streamed in, illuminating the room’s regal décor. Silk drapes, polished floors, and the faint scent of fresh lilies might have offered a sense of peace if not for the knowledge that a massive battle raged on the far side of the island. Instead, it all felt like a veneer of safety, a fragile illusion that could shatter at any moment.

One of the Jaegerists guarding the hall outside poked his head in. “Everything alright, Your Majesty?” he asked Historia politely, though his eyes flicked with concern toward Aurora. “Any new developments with her condition?”

Historia shook her head, forcing a thin smile. “She’s stable for now. We’ll call you if anything changes.”

The guard nodded, stepping back out. The thick door closed, leaving a heavy silence behind. Aurora shut her eyes, trying to ignore the rolling discomfort in her abdomen. Her mind wandered to memories of Eren’s face, the warmth of his arms, and the steadfast promise he had made to protect her. She whispered a silent plea: please be safe, please come back.

Historia brushed Aurora’s hair out of her eyes. “He’ll come back,” she said softly, as if reading Aurora’s thoughts. “He promised.”

Aurora nodded, tears glistening. “He has to. This war has taken so much from us already.”

Outside the suite, the corridors of the palace were strangely quiet. The squads of Jaegerists patrolled in shifts, their rifles ready. The tension was palpable even here—everyone knew that if Marley broke through Shiganshina, if their forces found a way around, this palace would be the next target. But no one anticipated an infiltration by plane. Not in Mitras, so far from the primary battle lines.

In a shadowy alley on the city’s outskirts, Gabi and Falco crouched behind crates, scanning the guard rotations. The capital had once been bustling, but now, with so many civilians evacuated underground in anticipation of the war, the streets felt eerily empty. That made their infiltration both easier and more treacherous. Fewer people to blend in with, but also fewer prying eyes to raise an alarm.

Falco glanced at the stone architecture, awe mingling with dread. “This place is huge,” he whispered. “Any idea where the palace is?”

Gabi held up the small map the Marleyan officer had given her. “It’s the largest structure near the center, heavily guarded. We get inside, find Aurora, and get out.” She looked him dead in the eye, her voice hardened by her mission. “No mistakes.”

He nodded, though his face betrayed how uneasy he felt. “Alright.”

They moved through deserted streets and quiet squares, staying out of sight whenever possible. Occasionally, they spotted a few armed Jaegerists in the distance, patrolling. Gabi found her hatred boiling up again, her grip on her rifle tightening. She could almost see Eren’s face superimposed on them—a reminder of the devils who had ravaged her home. Meanwhile, Falco’s eyes darted from shadow to shadow, always cautious, always searching for a hidden threat.

At one point, Gabi paused, pressing her back against a brick wall. She peered around the corner and spotted a pair of Jaegerists blocking a wide street that led toward the palace gates. “We need a distraction,” she muttered, scanning their surroundings.

Falco chewed his lip. “Maybe we can slip around them. I see some stairs leading down that side alley.”

She followed his gaze. Indeed, there was a narrow passage between two tall buildings that might let them skirt around the main thoroughfare. The only question was whether there were more guards stationed in that direction. Still, they didn’t have many options. “Okay, let’s try it,” Gabi agreed. “Stay low.”

He nodded. Together, they inched along the alley, footsteps silent on the cobblestones. The city’s grand architecture loomed overhead—tall spires, elegant balconies, and thick walls originally built to withstand titans. They advanced carefully, hearts pounding, each swirl of wind or clank of distant armor setting them on edge.

Meanwhile, in the palace suite, Aurora’s pains had eased slightly, but a dull ache persisted. She sat up with some effort, leaning against a headboard embroidered with royal crests. The doctor hovered, checking her pulse again. “Try to stay calm. Breathe deeply. Your baby isn’t quite ready, but your body is under immense stress.” He offered a comforting smile.

Historia perched on the side of the bed, offering Aurora a cup of water. “Drink,” she urged. “You need to stay hydrated.”

Aurora sipped, forcing down the lump in her throat. “I hate waiting,” she whispered. “I hate feeling powerless.”

Historia pressed her lips into a thin line. “I understand. But Eren and everyone else are counting on us to stay safe. We can’t help them if something happens to us here.”

The two women exchanged a solemn look. Their fates intertwined, both holding royal blood, both bearing responsibilities that weighed heavily on their shoulders. Historia was queen, Aurora was carrying a child who might shape the future in ways neither fully grasped. They drew strength from each other’s presence, even in the face of mounting dread.

Outside the room, footsteps echoed in the hall—a quick, light tread. The Jaegerist guard stationed at the door stiffened, raising a hand in caution. Another guard approached, quietly relaying some updated instructions about perimeter checks. Even though no immediate threat was expected, they refused to be lax. The capital was a fortress of sorts, but all it took was one breach.

Gabi and Falco pressed themselves flat against a stone wall, hearts pounding so loudly they feared the guards might hear. They had managed to slip around the main gates, finding a small side entrance presumably used for deliveries or discreet visitors. A single guard stood there, half attentive, occasionally glancing around.

Falco’s breath caught in his throat. “Gabi,” he whispered shakily. “We can’t just shoot him.”

Her eyes hardened. “We have to get in. We have a mission.” Yet, something twisted inside her at the thought of killing another person in cold blood, even if it was for the sake of her homeland. The memory of how quickly she had once pulled the trigger filled her mind, and she shook her head as if to banish it.

But then they spotted a chance—two more guards called out to the lone sentry, pulling him away. Gabi took the moment to dart forward, beckoning Falco to follow. They slipped past the doorway, creeping down a narrow corridor that led inside the palace’s outer structure.

The corridor was dimly lit by torches set in metal sconces. The marble floors had a faint shine, and tall windows were draped in thick curtains. Gabi led, gun at the ready, Falco close behind, praying they wouldn’t stumble upon more soldiers. Each step echoed in their ears like thunder. They navigated winding hallways, searching for signs of a platinum-haired, blue-eyed woman. Their plan was to find someone who might lead them to the suite.

In the upper levels of the palace, Aurora tried to rest again, but sleep wouldn’t come. She felt the back of her neck prickle, as if some invisible force loomed nearby. A sense of foreboding washed over her. With a shaky breath, she forced a small smile at Historia, who was polishing a rifle the Jaegerists had left behind.

“Thank you for staying with me,” Aurora murmured, placing a hand over her belly. The baby stirred slightly, a reminder of how real this all was.

Historia nodded. “Of course. I’m in no mood to be alone right now.” She let out a weak chuckle, but her eyes remained clouded with worry.

Just then, a commotion sounded from somewhere below—subtle, but distinct enough to draw the attention of the two guards stationed at the end of the corridor outside the suite. One guard stepped away to investigate, leaving the other to keep watch.

Aurora’s heart picked up speed. “What was that?” she asked, voice tight.

Historia shook her head. “I don’t know. Could just be the soldiers reshuffling their posts or checking on something. Try not to worry.”

But Aurora couldn’t help it. Her hand hovered protectively over her abdomen. Something felt off.

In the silent halls below, Gabi and Falco crouched behind a pillar, having nearly collided with a pair of guards rounding a corner. The guards chatted in hushed tones about the latest directives from Levi. Gabi pressed her back against the stone, praying they wouldn’t be discovered.

To her relief, the guards soon turned the opposite direction. She let out the breath she’d been holding. “We need to move faster,” she whispered to Falco. “We’ve lingered too long.”

He nodded. “Do you have any idea where we’re going?”

She lifted her map, though it wasn’t entirely accurate. “The top floor. The largest suite. That has to be where they’re keeping them.”

Falco’s eyes flickered with uncertainty. “If we can’t do this discreetly, we could be killed.”

Gabi steadied herself. “We’ll adapt. If we fail, we lose more than our lives. We fail Marley, and everything we’ve fought for. Remember Liberio, Falco. Remember the families we lost. Udo. Zofia.”

He closed his eyes, recalling the nightmarish scenes. Then he opened them, jaw set. “Let’s go.”

They ascended a spiral staircase, footsteps so light they barely made a sound. Distantly, a door opened. A scuffle of boots and a voice calling instructions reverberated through the corridor. The children flattened themselves against a wide statue, hearts pounding, waiting until the footsteps faded.

Eventually, they reached a long hallway adorned with lavish paintings and ornate doors. Gabi’s gaze danced from one door to the next, searching for any sign of the two women. The tension in the air was suffocating, each second ticking by with excruciating slowness.

Above them, in the suite, Aurora gripped Historia’s hand. The doctor had quietly reentered, checking Aurora’s symptoms again. “Still irregular,” he murmured. “Try to remain calm.” Aurora nodded, though her anxiety was through the roof.

Historia studied Aurora’s face. “Do you need anything? Another pillow? Some water?”

Aurora shook her head. “No, I’m just… on edge.” She exhaled shakily. “I can’t help the feeling something bad is happening.”

Historia forced a small smile. “We’re safe here. Four squads of Jaegerists are guarding the palace. If there’s any trouble, they’ll handle it.”

Neither woman realized how close that trouble was.

Moments later, Gabi and Falco spotted two Jaegerists posted outside a grand double door at the end of the hall. The door was carved with intricate designs, golden trim shimmering in the torchlight. That had to be it. Gabi nodded to Falco, then gestured for him to circle around. They quietly approached from opposite sides, steeling themselves for a confrontation they weren’t certain they could win.

Their plan was simple: take down the guards before an alarm could be raised. Falco’s hands trembled. He didn’t want to kill them. He hoped they could incapacitate them somehow. But Gabi’s expression was grim, unwavering in her determination.

As they prepared to strike, the guard who had left earlier returned, leaving a single soldier by the door. Gabi locked eyes with Falco, an unspoken question in her gaze. He gave a slight nod. They had to act now.

They lunged forward, Gabi smashing the butt of her rifle into the guard’s temple. Falco grabbed the second guard’s weapon, wrestling it away. The guard struggled, but Falco managed to trip him, pressing his muzzle against the man’s chest. A single shot rang out, echoing down the corridor. Gabi’s heart pounded. The bullet lodged itself in the stone floor as the guard jerked aside, but the noise was enough to raise an alarm if anyone was close by.

They had no time to lose. Gabi shoved the door open, gun in hand, Falco right behind her. Inside, Aurora startled so violently that she nearly cried out. Historia leaped up, reaching for a rifle of her own, but her shock at seeing two children was evident.

Gabi’s gaze zeroed in on Aurora’s swollen abdomen. Anger and adrenaline fueled her every breath. She barked, “Don’t move!”

Falco stood at her side, lips parted in horror. The scene felt surreal: Aurora Jaeger, pregnant and pale, clutching the sheets, and Queen Historia Reiss, just as startled, eyes darting between these strangers.

Historia’s weapon trembled in her grasp. “How did you—”

“We’re taking her,” Gabi snarled, jerking her head at Aurora. “And if you resist, we’ll do whatever it takes to finish this.”

Aurora’s heart hammered against her ribs. Painful cramps flared, her entire body tensing. Historia bit her lip, trying to remain calm. “She’s pregnant,” she said, desperation creeping into her tone. “She can’t travel. You’ll harm her—”

“She should have thought of that before spreading her legs for the devil,” Gabi spat. She advanced, rifled aimed at Aurora. “Now get up. We’re leaving.”

Falco swallowed, seeing Aurora’s fear. She was trembling, holding her stomach in obvious pain. Something about it made him hesitate, but Gabi’s rage overshadowed any second thoughts. He could almost see her finger tighten on the trigger if Aurora refused.

Historia, her own rifle in hand, stepped forward defensively, eyes flashing. “I won’t let you take her.”

Gabi glared at her. “If you try to stop us, I’ll shoot.”

For a moment, no one moved. Aurora felt tears sting her eyes. She thought of Eren, of the war he was fighting, of how powerless she felt here. Another cramp tore through her, forcing a small whimper from her lips. Gabi’s gaze flicked to her, a mixture of fury and uncertainty crossing her face.

The door behind them rattled—someone outside must have heard the earlier commotion. Falco tensed, turning his head. “We need to move, Gabi,” he urged quietly. “They’ll be here any second.”

Gabi pushed aside the swirl of guilt in her chest and set her jaw. She advanced on Aurora, gun raised. “We’re leaving. Now,” she demanded.

Aurora’s breath hitched. She tried to stand, but her body trembled with the strain of her possible labor. Historia angled her rifle, but Gabi jerked her own weapon toward the queen, forcing Historia to freeze.

“I said no tricks!” Gabi shouted.

At that instant, the door burst open. The second Jaegerist guard, battered and furious, lunged in with a shot fired blindly. Falco yelped and shoved Gabi aside to avoid the bullet. The shot ricocheted off the marble floor, and Gabi whirled around, returning fire. The guard slumped with a grunt, dropping his rifle, but the noise was now deafening. Surely more would arrive soon.

“Enough!” Gabi hissed, turning back to Aurora. “Get up, or I’ll drag you out.”

Historia, trembling, tried once more to raise her weapon. But Gabi swung her rifle butt, striking Historia’s arm. The queen cried out, dropping the gun. Aurora gasped, feeling tears trickle down her cheeks. She attempted to push herself off the bed, but another contraction seized her, leaving her panting with anguish.

Falco glanced between Aurora and Gabi, horror evident on his face. “She can barely walk,” he pleaded in a shaken voice. “How can we—”

“Shut up!” Gabi snapped, though her own voice wavered. She grabbed Aurora’s wrist, pulling her to her feet. Aurora staggered, breathing raggedly. Desperation clouded her eyes as she leaned on Gabi for support, a surreal alliance formed out of pure intimidation. Historia watched helplessly, clutching her throbbing arm.

Bootsteps pounded in the hallway. More Jaegerists were coming. Gabi’s gaze darted around the opulent room, searching for any exit besides the main door. A large window glinted with sunlight, but it looked like a dangerous drop to the courtyard below.

Falco clenched his jaw. “Gabi, we can’t—” He couldn’t finish. Gabi’s glare silenced him.

In the tumult, Aurora let out a strangled cry, another wave of pain coursing through her. She steadied herself against the bed, eyes wide and tearful. “You don’t have to do this,” she whispered desperately. “I never wanted—”

Gabi cut her off, voice cold. “Save it. You married the devil. Now you pay the price.”

Falco moved toward the window, drawing back the thick curtains to reveal a drop that made his heart plummet. “This is insane,” he muttered, glancing back at Gabi. “How are we—”

An explosive bang rocked the corridor door. The Jaegerists were already forcing their way in. Gabi and Falco exchanged a frantic look. Aurora trembled, leaning heavily on Gabi. Historia clutched her injured arm, tears of frustration gleaming in her eyes as she watched the scene unravel.

“Let’s go,” Gabi hissed, her voice strained. She guided Aurora toward the window as Falco swung it open. The courtyard below was two stories down, a dizzying drop. Faint shouts from below indicated that more soldiers patrolled outside. But it was the only way out.

Footsteps thundered behind the locked door. Someone slammed against it, splintering the wood. Gabi gave Falco a nod, then looked at Aurora, her gaze fierce. “Hold on,” she snapped.

Barely able to think through the haze of pain, Aurora complied, too terrified and weak to argue. In the next instant, Falco slid over the windowsill, dropping onto a narrow ledge. Gabi shoved Aurora after him, the pregnant woman letting out a choked sob as she gripped the stone to avoid tumbling.

They balanced precariously, hearts hammering. Historia lunged for them, ignoring her own injury, but Gabi kicked the window closed with a resounding thud, blocking her path. The door finally cracked behind them, allowing Jaegerists to rush in. Historia’s shout of alarm was drowned out by the splintering wood and the clash of boots as the soldiers arrived too late.

Outside, clinging to the palace’s ledge, Falco and Gabi helped Aurora inch along, tears streaming down her face, each movement a new wave of agony. The courtyard below swarmed with Jaegerists, but none had noticed them yet, their attention fixed on the commotion inside. Gabi signaled Falco to drop first, and with a controlled slide, he landed in a flower bed. Gabi followed, then turned to catch Aurora.

Aurora let out a shaky breath and, with no other choice, eased herself off the ledge. Falco and Gabi both tried to break her fall. They half-caught, half-dropped her onto the grass, Aurora stifling a scream as her body jolted with pain. The smell of crushed flowers and soil surrounded them.

“Move!” Gabi growled, hooking an arm under Aurora’s shoulders. The pounding footsteps and raised voices inside the palace echoed through the open window. They had only seconds to vanish into the maze of garden walls and hedges.

Falco led the way, scanning for a clear path. Every step Aurora took was an ordeal, her tears mixing with sweat, but fear drove her forward. Gabi’s heart thundered with a toxic mix of determination and dread. Her mission was almost successful—she had Aurora in her grasp. But the horrifying possibility of failure loomed, and Falco’s anxious glances kept gnawing at her conscience.

As they slipped deeper into the royal gardens, soldiers raced around the palace perimeter, alerted by the uproar. The garden’s thick hedges and winding paths offered fleeting cover. They could hear Historia yelling from the suite above, heard the barked orders of Jaegerists mobilizing. But for a brief, terrifying moment, Gabi, Falco, and Aurora were alone, caught in a swirl of confusion and pain, forging a twisted alliance that none had truly wanted.

Aurora whimpered softly, her cramping intensifying. She felt the child stirring, her body nearing its limit. Gabi grit her teeth, forcing aside her conflicted emotions as Falco motioned for them to slip behind a tall hedge.

Somewhere in the distance, an explosion thundered, a grim reminder that war raged on two fronts—Shiganshina and now here, in the heart of Mitras.

The fate of Aurora and her unborn child now lay in the hands of these two warrior candidates from Marley, each of whom wrestled with guilt and desperation. The dreadful hush of the garden closed in on them as they vanished from sight, the palace behind them erupting into shouts and frantic searches for the missing queen and the pregnant woman who had just been torn from the safety of her guards.

~

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[dynasty889]

Love in Paradise (Warrior!Penelope AU: Updated Version)

I made some changes to the old Love in Paradise drabble I did for this AU. Also I did the entire song. You’re welcome :)

(Obviously, CW due to suicidal thoughts and vague implications of SA)

—————————————————————————

Telemache smiled at the god of war. You’re a good kid. That’s what he had just called her. She didn’t know much about Ares, but she could guess that it wasn’t every day Ares’ softer side made an appearance.

“So you’re gonna help that friend of yours?” she asked with an eager, hopeful smile.

Ares nodded. “I will. Thank you for…inspiring me.” Telemache’s smile grew. “I will be back.”

Ares glared down into the abyss as he stood atop the hourglass. It had been seven years since he had last seen Penelope. The sting of the words she had yelled at him long ago remained, but he pushed that away. This wasn’t just some woman, but a mother and a queen, and she had been away from home for far too long. Now that he knew of the daughter she had left behind, it seemed the only logical thing to do would be to help.

Ares put his helmet on. All around him, Penelope’s memories jumped out at him. “Old friend…it’s been so long since I last saw you,” he said softly. If he wanted to find her, he had to start where it had ended for both of them.

“Remember me! I am the infamous Penelope!” She stood at the entrance of Polyphemus’ cave. Despite his warning, she didn’t listen to him. He was furious.

Ares, standing at the edge of the hourglass, leaned forward and let himself fall into her memories. “Let’s see where you’ve been!” He plunged into another memory.

“Keep your friends close and your enemies closer!” Aeolus warned. The wispy god cackled cheekily as they watched their little Winion friends mess with Penelope’s crew. Ares watched the fleet be blown away from Ithaca.

The winds settled, but a new storm began to stir. “Ruthlessness is mercy upon ourselves!” yelled the Queen of the Sea. Tidal waves and the Laestrygonians crushed Penelope’s fleet until only her ship remained. Bodies and debris littered the sea. Ares paused momentarily to watch Penelope unleash the remaining wind to save herself and her crew.

“One wrong move and you’re done for! Anything I—!”

“—Song of past romance! I see the—“

“—We won’t take more suffering from you!”

“Drown in your sorrow and fears!”

Ares followed each memory to the next: an encounter with a cunning witch, a trip to the Underworld to learn of a horrible fate, the killing of Sirens, a sacrifice of six comrades for quick passage.

“Captain?” Ares barely recognized that voice, though he knew it was one of Penelope’s comrades. Waves lapped against the hull and rain poured down on the crew. He looked over his shoulder. At the bow, Penelope stood. Hera’s hands lingered on the mortal queen, a devious smile playing at her lips.

“I have to see him…” Penelope choked out. Her clothes were torn and stained with blood, she was hunched over, and she had a black eye. Ares remembered when Hera had left Olympus to deal with ‘troublesome mortals.’ He didn’t know that it was Penelope’s crew she was going to punish.

“But we’ll die.”

“I know.”

Hera chuckled quietly. Madness fell over the crew and in an instant, the ship was reduced to nothing. He couldn’t find Penelope among the wreckage. His heart started to swell with anxiety.

“Penelope…where did you go?” he wondered aloud. One more memory gravitated towards him. Perhaps this one would finally lead him to her…

Penelope swam until the darkness of the night made things too hard to see. Until her legs gave out. She had managed to drag herself to the shore of an island, where she passed out. The next day, Penelope awoke to the sounds of gulls crying and the waves breaking on the shore. The light of the sun was nearly blinding. Every muscle in her body ached.

A stifled chuckle echoed in her ears. Blinking, she looked up and saw a man sitting beside her. “Morning, sleepyhead. You’ve been resting for a while,” he teased. His voice was deep, but despite that and his gruff appearance, it carried a humorous air. It was one Penelope did not like at all.

The man laughed again. Penelope’ confusion was adorably amusing to him and he decided he would savor it as long as he could. “I swore that you were dead when you washed up on my isle,” he mused. “Did you know you talk in your sleep? Tell me, though, who’s Odysseus?”

Odysseus. That name, like sweet honey, lingered in her ears. It was like medicine to soothe her aching head. Though she was still groggy and dazed, her senses were slowly coming to her. “He’s my husband…” she murmured. It was at that same moment she realized how close the man was to her and that his hand was gently resting on her thigh.

He blinked like he was confused. Penelope, equally confused, stared back. They exchanged stares in awkward silence before the man spoke again. He pulled Penelope up to her feet and dragged her behind him. “Anyways, I’ve got all you could want here, all you could need here. Just you and me, my dear, my love for life.” His hands trailed down her body and he brought her close to him, like an embrace. “Soon into bed we’ll climb and spend our time.”

Penelope pulled away immediately. Turning her head, she began to walk in the opposite direction. “You’re not my man,” she asserted. What a bold thing to say. The man’s smile faltered slightly, but once he caught up to her and retook hold of her hand, it returned.

“I’m what you want here. I’m what you need here. Just you and me, my love, in paradise.” He again forced her to look at him. He didn’t seem as innocent—if ignorant—as before. Dread began to creep inside Penelope. With lust sparkling in his eyes, he brought a hand to her cheek and caressed her softly. “Now till the end of time, from here on out, you’re mine, all mine—”

Penelope shoved him off a second time. His lips had been dangerously close to touching hers. “Hell no! I could kill you where you stand! I’m no pet, I’m a married woman!” She drew her sword and widened her stance, but the man only chuckled.

“Oh, darling, you may try, but last I checked one of us can’t die.”

“What…?”

He reveled in the reveal of his true nature. He had so much power over her. He flicked the blade away and leaned back on a rock. “You’re adorable. Bow down now to the immortal Antinous, here to entertain. But fear not, I bring no pain…”

Penelope’s eyes widened in horror. No. No, no, no. This couldn’t be happening! Not again. Her stomach sank. Antinous shot her a sinister smirk as he demonstrated for her his powers. Penelope could feel herself starting to crumble along with her hope.

“‘Cause we’ve got all we could want here, all we could need here. Under my spell, we’re stuck in paradise,” Antinous said once more. Penelope was really starting to hate those words, but Antinous only seemed to be getting more and more joyful. “No one can come nor go. My island stays unknown.”

That was the last straw. The sky felt as if it were falling, as though Atlas’ strength had finally abandoned him. Penelope rushed back towards the beach, but to her horror, there were no islands nearby. She felt a sharp twinge in her abdomen and she fell to her knees. Her hand was covered in blood and she cursed under her breath as she realized her wound had reopened.

She couldn’t run her way off the island, she couldn’t swim her way off the island, she couldn’t build way off the island. The terror she felt grew tenfold. She groaned, unable to stand back up as searing pain shot through the rest of her body.

“No, no!” she cried. “I don’t belong here, there’s something wrong here!” She looked to her left and standing beside her, as always, was Antinous. She mustered all of her strength and hobbled a few steps away, but Antinous could’ve crawled and it wouldn’t have mattered for she was too slow.

Penelope’s eyes darted up, down, left, and right. She had to find a way off the island. This couldn’t be her final fate. She hated that she was feeling so much panic, that Antinous was watching her completely fall apart. But she couldn’t be stuck. Not here. It wasn’t right. “I won't be drawn to love in paradise. Not till the end of time. There is no way—”

Antinous whipped her around. She was like a rag doll to him. “You’re mine. All mine.” Finally, he got what he wanted. His lips latched onto hers.

Ares’ shoulders heaved up and down, as did his chest, as he tried to process what he had just witnessed. Penelope was stuck, completely helpless, with some god. Guilt surged within him like a tidal wave. He shouldn’t have ever left her. He wouldn’t have if he knew this is where she had ended up.

“Seven years he’s kept you out of your control. Time can take a heavy toll…” murmured Ares. Although he didn’t want to, he needed to know what happened next.

Rain battered against Penelope’s skin. Her hair was longer, her frame was lighter, and her eyes were dull. The wind howled in the night, and it was as if it was urging Penelope closer to the edge. Several feet away was Antinous, whose face was contorted with dread and anger.

“Penelope!” he called.

“All I hear are screams…” The mindless mumble was just a fragment of the despair that had tortured the broken queen for the past seven years.

“Penelope! Get away from the ledge!” Antinous screamed. But it wasn’t just a plea, it was a demand. He had demanded so much from her, though sometimes he wouldn’t even demand. He would just take it.

Antinous grabbed her wrist, squeezing it tightly as he pulled her back to him. Penelope recoiled and ripped herself away from him. Tears swam in her eyes. “You don’t know what I’ve gone through!” she snapped and for once, Antinous’ reaction to her recoiling at his touch was not anger. It was shock.

The despair was getting darker and darker. It felt like her vision was starting to fade as all she could see was darkness. She turned away from him, as she so often did. The powerful breeze moved her along the cliff that urged her to its edge. “You don’t know what I’ve sacrificed. Every comrade I long knew…every friend. I saw them die! And all I hear are screams…”

“It will be fine, dear. Come back inside, dear. Love of my life, come back to paradise…”

“Let me close my eyes…”

Penelope staggered. What if she just…fell? She had been away from home for too long. She didn’t know how she had managed seven years of an unwanted love. Each day, the sea had taunted her. She once had loathed the sea as all of her problems seem to come right out of it, but she had spent each day of the last seven years staring at it, longing for home, as it crashed against the beach. It had taunted her. Now, it beckoned her.

“I know your life’s been hard. I’ll stay inside your heart…”

“All I hear are screams!” Penelope yelled. She couldn’t stand it. Voices were starting to echo in her head. They were getting too loud.

Antinous was getting more distressed with every moment Penelope refused to hear him. “I love you, my dear. I love our time here. Life would be so much worse if you had died—”

“Just let me close my eyes!” she screamed.

“—Please stay away from harm! Stay in my open arms!”

“All I hear are…”

This life was amazing when…

How much longer till…

…you greet it with open arms.

…your luck runs out?

The voices were starting to get louder. Penelope closed her eyes, hoping the wind would just knock her off her feet already. She could see Melantho’s smile, full of innocence. She saw Ctimene’s eyes that glared at her with disapproval. How in the world would she explain to her husband she had sacrificed him? How would she explain that to her husband?

Waiting…

Whatever we face…

…waiting!

…we’ll be fine if we’re leading…

How much longer…

…from the heart.

…till the show goes south?

Penelope pressed her hands against her ears, but she couldn’t drown out the voices of the ones she had lost. Her eyes were squeezed shut as she teetered between life and death, and death was calling. They were calling.

Tears slipped down her face. Everything was too loud, too much. She couldn’t think. All she could do was scream.

No matter the place we can…

How much longer…

…light up the world, here’s how to start…

…till we all fall down?

The world grew darker, her mind grew louder, her despair was all-consuming. She had no time to breathe. All she heard and all she did was scream.

…greet the world with open arms, greet the world with open arms.

…you rely on—

“ARES!”

Ares breathed heavily. Too much time had passed. In all his years of knowing Penelope, there was nothing that drove her determination quite like her family. And now, even that wasn’t enough. It was clear what he needed to do; if he couldn’t find a way to get her off that island, she would never see her home again.

He took one final glance at the memory. Antinous had lunged forward to catch Penelope as she reached out to the sky. The manner in which she screamed his name haunted him. It was raw and distraught and sounded like Penelope’s throat ripped apart just to say that one word. Everything was still in that moment. “She needs my help,” Ares decided. He would do everything he could to get her out of there.

[druidwolf21]

Sanguinis/reader

Bolter

Tags: @beckyninja @lemon-russ @moodymisty @thisuserislilsilly @jaghatai-khock @echo-of-damnation @laura-naruto-fan1998 @cosmic-cryptid-from-beyond @astrohymn @gallifreyianrosearkytiorsusan

ENJOY THE ANGST

Non gendered

Cw: angst, mentions of violence and bodily harm, blood.

Short and (no so) sweet, enjoy!

Your footsteps thundered through the maintenance shaft, each breath tearing from your chest as you ran. Your lungs screamed for relief, just for a moment.

But still you ran.

Around you, through the thick sheet metal of the walls you could hear the fight, the harsh bark of bolters unleashing round after the round, the screech of chainswords carving through ceramite. It reverberated through the hull, echoing through the corridor and jarring your bones. Fear creeping into the edge of your mind like cold chill, ice clawing at your heart and fighting your muscles.

"stop, turn back" it screamed

And still you ran

Jagged broken metal stabbed out from the walls, tangling in your clothes and spearing your soft skin as you pass, gashes searing into the flesh of your arm. Rivulets of scarlet trickled down your elbow warm and wet, dripping your life slowly onto the wired floor, but it doesn't matter. The pain is a dull throb, pressed down by the adrenaline coursing through you, flushed around your body by your heart as it hammered inside you with each aching step.

And still you ran.

Your breaths came in ragged gasps now, the edges of your vision static and grey as your muscles begged, pleaded, hounded you.

"Please stop, too much, we can't go on"

But the door was right there, the sound of the battle growing louder, flashes of light creeping under the door as you flung yourself forward, metal meeting bone as you refused to yield. Screaming, you push, feet raking the floor as the door finally gives way.

You tumble through, hands slapping the floor as you stagger upright, they come away red, sticky, warm. The air hums and the scent of iron fills the air. Colour strobes around you; red, yellow, black. Mountains of armour and flesh collide in howls of rage and the faint whine of servos as battered limbs tangle together.

Where

WHERE

Sweat stings your eyes, the muscles in your ribs threaten to give but you force yourself on, hugging the wall. Sticking low, you dart and dash, the bitter fear climbing in your throat as you weave between bodies far stronger than your own that have long since surrendered to their fate.

How can we survive where warriors have fallen, go back!

No, not yet, we're so close

You rounded a corner, flinging yourself backwards against the cold, cracked sheet of the steel wall. A mass of yellow hurtling past you, bolter raised and muzzle alight in a rosey hue as bullets shredded through the air, ricocheting around the hull as it bounced off helmets and pauldrons.

You go unnoticed, or perhaps simply ignored as you barrel away from the fight, your presence trifling, Inconsequential to those who battle with fire in their eyes and betrayal in their veins. Promises of revenge and glory spat through bloody teeth scatter like dust in the wind, lost beneath the tearing of limbs.

You're going to die, everyone will die.

More bodies lie around you as you enter another hall. Yellow fists clenched around holsters and hilts, red helmets cracked and stained with gore. Soldiers reduced to meat and metal. You tread through the corpses, careful steps placed softly, delicately.

Why do you creep? the dead can't hear you, soon you will join them.

A whimper catches in your throat, choking back hot tears as they well up and try to flow. Panic threatening to consume you as you clutch your chest, wringing your bloodstained shirt between numb fingers.

Then you hear it.

The clatter of steel, singing sweetly as it clashes again and again. The last of your strength has you lunging on, desperately reaching forward as you stumble towards the sound.

I'm coming

I'm coming!

The walls of the ship are dented and fractured, deep gouges streaking the metal, power fist talons carving it up like a knife through hot butter. Blood splattered across every surface around you, coagulating in darkening pools as you watched with despair.

He lay shattered and gasping amongst the crater of broken floor plates, His soft hair falling about his bloodied face in a cascade of bloodied gold. One great wing shuddered, splayed outwards beside him, pink bone peaking from the shredded feathers as it twitched, fighting to right itself as the other lay trapped beneath him. He drags himself upright, A golden hand reaching for his sword, achingly out of reach and he gasps, collapsing forward onto his hands and knees.

Sanguinius refuses to surrender. Silently rocking back, he raised his head. like a squire waiting to be knighted, he rested a taloned hand on one raised knee, his other hand balled into a fist, knuckles to the broken floor as he met his brother's furious gaze.

Horus raised world breaker above his head, the maul already stained with the life of fallen foes. Black armour groaning under its own weight as his curled fist tightened around the handle.

All that, for what, he will still die here, you were too slow, too weak.

Your heartbeat hammered in your ears and time slowed to a halt. Clambering downwards over a fallen astartes, you wretched a pistol from its holster and fired, pain coursing through your injured arm as the weapon kicked back in your hand and flew from your grip.

The slug rang against the gold trim of the war masters gauntlet, scuffing the flaking paint and bouncing harmlessly away.

Two sets of eyes trained in your figure, resplendent gold and raging Vermillion.

Horus studied you for a moment, eyes flashing between you and the angel before he dropped his mace and prowled towards you, the weight of the weapon sending shockwaves up your body. Your ears were ringing, deafened by gun and the world seemed to shake as the primarch approached. you could see sanguinius reaching towards you, mouth moving as he clawed the air.

You cast your sight up, the violent screeching in your head slowly dying down as you found yourself shrouded by lupercal's shadow.

When sanguinius spoke, it was music to your ears, soft and musical, as gentle and sweet as his touches, making your heart flutter and your stomach twist.

Horus' voice made your gut wretch and ice fill your veins, dread freezing your thoughts and paralyzing your body.

"what do we have here? A little bug?"

You lurch backwards, eyes locked to his as he began to laugh.

"come to save your beloved primarch?"

Your sight flitted to your angel, struggling to his feet and staggering towards you, your name slipping from his tongue as he begged for your life, even as his own was slipping away. Begging, pleading, threatening.

"please stop"

"don't do this"

"I'll kill you"

Horus' continued to laugh, as a flash of black cut through your vision, he raised his hand to his face, a long claw now stained in claret.

The pain was intense, all consuming as you dropped to your knees. Your hands clasping at your midriff as liquid stained your shift, seeping and spreading through the fabric like a stain. Warmth seemed to leak from your body through the gaping hole in your belly and shivers racked your body. Falling backwards against the body of a blood angel, your hand slipped from your wound, falling uselessly to your side.

The pain was gone now, but you were so, so tired. Black crept into your vision as you watched horus' return to his spiked club. Sanguinius mouth opened in a silent scream as he turned to his brother, rage etched harshly across his once gentle face. He throws himself at the traitor, to be battered aside by a harsh, calculated swing.

You try to reach out to him, but your body is so heavy.

You close your eyes.

just for a moment

Just

For

A

...

[iamnot-crazy]

A Pirates Choice Part 2

Part 1

a/n: I wanted to say I do have plans for this part two to have two options maybe 3. But I really wanted to get this part out now that the recent One Piece episode was released so yes this chapter does contain spoilers for that episode. Anyway please enjoy I did cry while writing this which means that this chapter has to be one of my good ones.

This chapter is not all sad though there are a few sweet moments.

Trafalgar Law x f!reader

TW: This story contains mentions of sexual assault, unwanted pregnancy, and loss.

****

Your thoughts swarm as you ponder Law's words while he hovers above you awaiting your response.

“What I want?” your voice cracks as you tear up looking up at your captain.

Law nodded, “I promise we can work out whatever you choose.” He encourages you wiping away the stray tear off your cheek.

You nodded and in that moment Law knew your answer and pulled your head into his chest gripping you tightly.

Law kept his promise and when you finally calmed down the two of you went over options. You decided that you were going to find your new home in Dressrosa. You both figured that it would be far enough removed from the government without the dangers of a lawless island and you could help the country regrow itself.

Law informed Hakugan that they would be temporarily changing course. It would take a bit longer than expected but Law assured to see your safe landing on Dressrosa was worth pausing his expedition to the one piece.

However, your trip was cut short.

The Polar Tang bucked and groaned beneath you as cannonballs slammed into its hull. Chaos reigned on the bridge. Crew members scrambled, faces etched with fear, while Law's voice, sharp and commanding, cut through the din. "Make for the nearest island!"

You stumbled your way onto the bridge, “What is going on?” You shouted over the ruckus.

Law’s eyes darted up to meet yours, a storm of worry and determination reflected in their depths. “Blackbeard,” He gritted out, bracing himself against the lurching vessel.

Adrenaline surged through you as the sub tilted dangerously. Water began seeping in through cracks in the hull. You joined the frantic struggle to cover the cracks. The sub swiftly steered towards the nearest island and the water pouring in slowed as the sub surface.

Everyone dashed to the door to ready their fight on the island. You followed suit, but a strong hand clamped down on your shoulder, halting you in your tracks. Law’s stern gaze met yours. "You're staying here," he growled.

Shock and defiance warred within you. "What?!" you exclaimed, wrenching your shoulder free. "It's Blackbeard!” You paused quickly hiding your fear behind a reassuring smile, “I'm not missing out on the fun." A forced laugh escaped your lips as you tried to mask the fear creeping up your spine. But as you turned your back toward your captain your fear quickly resurfaced and etched itself on your face.

The blinding sunlight forced you to shield your eyes as you stumbled onto the beach, Law's figure a blur behind you. Blackbeard, a monstrous silhouette, soared above on a grotesque, winged beast. Before he could land, Law met him with a barrage of room-based attacks.

Your attention snapped to Jesus, the user of the Strong Strong Fruit. Mountains were yanked from the ground and hurtling towards your allies. With a fierce cry, you coated your sword in Haki and leaped into the air, cleaving the oncoming disaster in half. A triumphant grin spread across your face as you landed, meeting Law's approving gaze. Pregnancy hadn't dulled your edge, it seemed.

Law's orders echoed through the chaos as he dispatched Penguin and Shachi to the sea, and Hakugan to the Polar Tang. Then, the earth convulsed beneath you. Blackbeard's Tremor Tremor Fruit was unleashing its fury. You were pinned to the ground, the world a jarring, chaotic blur. Fear gnawed at you as you struggled to breathe, the full extent of Blackbeard's power a terrifying reality.

Desperation fueled your attempt to rise, your instincts to protect your stomach and child from damage distracted you from the monstrous boulder hurtled towards you. Law's anguished cry was a distant echo as your world shattered. The impact was a cataclysmic force, ripping you from the earth. Your body was a helpless puppet, tossed and turned by an unseen hand. The ground itself seemed to revolt, rising in jagged walls that met you with unforgiving brutality.

Your body finally came to a jarring halt, and the extent of your injuries became painfully clear. The worst was concentrated on your abdomen. The fabric of your shirt was shredded, revealing a gaping wound that stretched across your slightly risen belly. Law’s face contorted in horror as he took in the sight. He knew, with a cold dread, that your child’s fate was grim. You weren't wearing the protective gear the crew usually donned, but one of Law's oversized hoodies. Now, the once comfortable fabric was tattered and useless, fluttering in the wind.

Law’s mind drifted back to the day you’d claimed the hoodie. Exhausted from a day at the helm, he’d retreated to his quarters, only to find you rummaging through his closet. A smirk tugged at his lips as he approached, amused by the sight. “What are you doing?” he asked, his voice laced with playful curiosity.

You jumped, startled by his presence. Your face flushed as you stammered out an explanation, a nervous smile playing on your lips. “Ah! Uh, Captain... I thought you’d be out a little longer.”

“That doesn’t answer my question,” Law replied, a playful smirk gracing his lips as he perched on the edge of his bed.

You groaned, turning back to his closet and rummaging through the clothes. "My suits are getting harder to hide this bump, and Shachi's starting to catch on to my suit-borrowing habit," you explained, pulling out a hoodie. You slipped it over your undershirt and turned to your captain for approval.

Law chuckled, “You know if you go out wearing my hoodie, everyone is just going to think that we are in a relationship.” he teased, raising an eyebrow.

You roll your eyes and scrunch your nose at the comment slipping the hoodie off and throwing it into a pile on his bed before turning back to the closet, “As awful as that sounds, it's better than them finding out I’m pregnant.”

Law sighed, grabbed the hoodie, and began folding it neatly. “Why are you so concerned about them finding out?” he asks with a gentle tone.

You paused your search, a thoughtful expression crossing your face “Because then they will see me as weak.” you replied, your voice soft. Resuming your search, you pulled out one of his long coats. A playful smirk spread across your lips as you turned to face him. The coat nearly touched the floor, engulfing you.

Law shook his head in amusement, but his expression turned disapproving. You removed the coat and playfully tossed it at him, covering his face. He pulled the coat off his face, “You are one of the strongest fighters of the crew no one is going to think you are weak even for a second.”

“They will when they find out how it happened.” You spoke coldly gripping the next item tightly.

Law noticed the action and stood up to grab your arm. “Y/n what happened does not make you weak,” he spoke softly in your ear as your back pressed against his chest.

You frowned gently releasing the fabric and placing your hand over his. A sigh escaped your lips as you relaxed into his touch. “The only two people who know about the… event. is you and Ikkaku. And both of you already look at me differently. I don’t think I can handle it when the rest of the crew starts looking at me like that.” You admitted, avoiding his gaze.

Law looks down at you in surprise, “I don’t look at you differently.” he defended. You shook your head, and his frown deepened. He grabbed your shoulders, gently spinning you to face you, “Okay, maybe I do look at you differently, but it’s not because I think you're weak.”

Your gaze met his, and you absorbed his words. “I know that what happened was awful, but it showed that you are much braver than I could ever imagine. You saved those other women, and you protected Ikkaku. I’m worried you’re bottling things up is unhealthy, but I think it shows how much you care about everyone around you.” Law pauses as he looks into your eyes, “If I am looking at you differently it's because you've been amazing me.” a blush crept on his face as he watched your eyes search his face.

Law’s eyes widened in horror as he watched your body convulse on the ground. A low groan escaped your lips as your hand instinctively moved towards your stomach, a look of pure terror etched on your face. His heart pounded in his chest as he lunged towards you, the desperate need to protect both you and your child consuming him.

His path was disrupted when Blackbeard landed on the island, his arrival a jarring interruption. Law's attention was torn between your desperate state and the looming threat. A growl erupted from his throat as he glared at the pirate, his mind racing with a thousand different plans. Blackbeard, sensing an opportunity, swung his fist, forcing Law to defend himself. The pirate’s blow sent him crashing across the beach, his body slamming into the unforgiving sand.

A blood-curdling scream tore from your throat, your focus solely on your injured abdomen. Then, with a feral snarl, your head snapped up, and your eyes locked on the monstrous pirate. Adrenaline coursed through your veins as you launched yourself at Blackbeard, your Haki-coated sword a blur. You connected with his chest, the impact sending a thrill of satisfaction through you.

Blackbeard vain throbbed in his forehead as he looked down at you with surprise and irritation as you seemingly disappeared into the next attack. He swung his arm toward you but you easily dodged his attack and appeared beside him slashing at his open side. He hissed as his hand instinctively reached for his injured side, granting you a guttural growl from the pirate.

You took no moment to relish in his anger but allowed another feral scream to roar out of your chest as you dive into another attack. This time the pirate captain stopped you in your tracks by grabbing your throat and lifting you to his eye level. You dropped your sword as you clawed at his massive arm terror and desperation warred within you as you gasped for air.

A twisted smile crept across Blackbeard’s face as he looked down at you, your face soaked in tears and contorted in fear. “Wow, you are a spiteful one!” He sneered but his mockery was cut short by the blue-coated end of Law’s sword pierced through his chest. A look of shock and disbelief flashed across his face as he dropped you to the ground.

Law’s voice echoed through the air as he unleashed his attack, his blade now crackling with yellow electricity. Blackbeard faltered to the ground, his gaze now fixed on the enraged bloodied doctor. With a swift motion, Law pulled up the ground beneath him, transforming it into a deadly threat that spun around him as he launched himself at his opponent.

You groaned in agony, clutching your injured abdomen. You tried to look up towards the fight but were only met with the pitch darkness of Blackbeard's Black vortex. When the darkness that enveloped the battlefield dissipated your eyes quickly searched for your captain.

Law was on the ground covered in blood. His usual snarky demeanor was replaced with one of raw fear as Blackbeard hovered above him tauntingly. Ignoring the pain you pushed yourself off the ground. Your vision blurred, and your legs trembled, but you refused to give in. You raised your sword and shouted for the pirate gaining his attention. He turned to look over at you but laughed seeing your state. “Do you really want to keep fighting me? When you look like that!”

You straightened yourself as you held your sword up confidently, “For my captain. I will do anything. Even die.” You declare, your voice filled with a fierce resolve.

Blackbeard's expression shifted, a flicker of surprise and perhaps even respect crossing his face as his eyes drifted down toward your slightly raised belly. "Y/n... don't," Law coughed, his voice weak but filled with a desperate plea for you to stay out of the fight. Blackbeard smirked, relishing in Law's vulnerability.

But before either of you could react, a shockwave erupted from the Heart Pirates' side. The ground trembled as a monstrous figure emerged - Bepo transformed into a colossal, enraged beast. Twice his normal size, his fur was pure white, and his eyes glowed an ominous red. With a thunderous roar, he charged towards Blackbeard's crew, his voice echoing across the island. "Don't touch my captain!”

"Y/n," Law coughed, his voice barely a whisper. You fell to your knees beside him, taking his hand in yours. "Save yourself," he begged, his eyes filled with a desperation you'd never seen before.

You shook your head, bringing his hand to your lips and pressing a soft kiss to his knuckles. "Thank you, Law," you whispered, tears streaming down your face. "For everything." A bitter smile tugged at your lips. "I'm sorry," you managed to say before pushing yourself to your feet. Bepo was already returning to his normal size, his exhausted breaths a stark contrast to his previous ferocity.

Bepo collapsed to the ground, his knees buckling beneath him. Tears streamed down his face as he looked at his Brother. You rushed to his side, helping him to his feet. "You need to get him away from here," you urged, your voice trembling. Bepo nodded, his determination unwavering.

You turned to face Blackbeard as he pushed himself up from the ground Bepo pounded him into, your heart pounding in your chest as you swallowed a painful lump in your throat "And don't let him see what happens next," you whispered, a single tear escaping your eye as you come to terms with your fate.

Bepo's breath hitched in his chest as he realized the gravity of your words. Fear gripped him, but he couldn't find his voice. "GO NOW!" you screamed, your voice filled with desperation. Bepo nodded, tears streaming down his face. Scooping Law into his arms, he turned and ran towards the sea. You took one last look at the two before shifting your attention back to the pirate crew and jumping into your attack.

"Bepo, please!" Law cried out, his voice filled with anguish as they fled. "I can't leave them! I can't let y/n!" His sobs echoed in the air. Blackbeard's cruel laughter filled the silence as he held your lifeless body aloft. Bepo's heart shattered as he dived into the water, blocking the horrifying sight from Law's view.

Law finally was consumed by the darkness allowing Bepo to take him far away from the island and out of Blackbeard's clutches.

[novaursa]

The Second Daughter (what is given)

- Summary: You were born as a second daughter under the watchful eye of a full moon. And just like the moon you were beautiful—and cursed to exist only in the dark.

- Pairing: targ!reader/Jason Lannister

- Rating: Mature 16+

- Previous part: the flight of war

- Next part: what is stolen

- Tag(s): @sachaa-ff @oxymakestheworldgoround @l3thal-l0lita @alkadri-layal @ninihrtss @barnes70stark @scarletdfox @idenyimimdenial

The wind howled against Aemerys’ face as he soared high above the churning sea, his hair whipping wildly beneath his helm. Valyros beat his great wings, gliding through the storm-laden sky with ease, the silver-and-gold scales of his body shimmering like molten coin under the slivers of moonlight that pierced the cloud cover. Below them, the vast stretch of the western seas roiled and churned, dark and treacherous, waves crashing against one another as if the ocean itself anticipated the battle ahead.

The Lannister fleet moved in formation, warships cutting through the water, their crimson sails billowing in the wind, adorned with the proud golden lion of House Lannister. Torches flickered along the decks, illuminating the determined faces of the men below. At the helm of the lead war galley, Ser Alester Lannister stood with his hand resting on the hilt of his sword, eyes locked on the horizon where shadows loomed—shadows that belonged to the Greyjoy fleet.

Aemerys adjusted his grip on Valyros’ reins, feeling the powerful muscles of the dragon shift beneath him as they descended lower. The sea below was dotted with longships, their black sails emblazoned with the kraken sigil of House Greyjoy. The Ironborn had come to raid, but they would find that the lions were not so easily cowed. They were not defenseless villagers to be burned and slaughtered. They were warriors. And now, they had a dragon.

The young lord inhaled sharply, bracing himself. His father’s orders were clear: the Greyjoy fleet was to be turned back by any means necessary. Negotiation was not an option. They had tested the Westerlands for too long, their raids growing bolder with each passing moon, and Jason Lannister would suffer no further insult. The time for restraint had ended.

Aemerys descended further, the force of Valyros’ wings sending ripples through the water as the beast let out a piercing roar, the sound rolling across the waves like thunder. Below, the Greyjoy longships reacted at once, sails shifting, rowers bracing, captains calling out orders in haste. Some turned to face the Lannister fleet; others hesitated, uncertain in the face of the beast that circled above them.

"Make them fear," Aemerys muttered, leaning forward. "Let them know what awaits them."

Valyros responded with a deep growl before he opened his massive jaws and unleashed a torrent of fire. The night was illuminated in an instant, the sea reflecting the burning light as flames rained down upon one of the longships. The wood, thick with pitch and salt, ignited almost at once, an inferno spreading along the deck as Ironborn warriors screamed and flung themselves into the water. The ship cracked and splintered, mast toppling as fire licked hungrily at the sails.

From below, Ser Alester raised his sword in salute, signaling his approval. The Lannister fleet did not hesitate. The war galleys surged forward, cutting through the chaos of the Greyjoy ranks, iron rams splintering wooden hulls, archers loosing flaming arrows across the dark sky.

The Ironborn fought back with the savagery they were known for. Ballistae were turned skyward, great iron bolts loosed toward Aemerys and his dragon. But Valyros was swift, his powerful wings shifting effortlessly as he dodged the clumsy projectiles, fire spitting from his maw in answer. Another longship was set ablaze, the scent of burning wood and flesh carried on the wind.

Aemerys caught sight of a larger vessel below, its captain shouting orders, the kraken banner flying high. He recognized him at once—Rodrik Greyjoy, the Red Kraken’s son, a man who had led many of the most recent raids against the western coast. If he could take him out, the fleet would be leaderless.

Diving low, Aemerys called out, his voice cutting through the din of battle. "Rodrik Greyjoy!" His words carried, though whether through his own strength or the unnatural force that often seemed to come with dragonriders, he did not know. "You wanted the West, yet you come in the dead of night like rats. Face me now if you have the spine for it!"

Rodrik Greyjoy stood defiantly at the prow of his ship, his long axe gleaming in the firelight. "Lannister whelp!" he bellowed. "You think you can claim the seas with fire alone? Your family’s gold cannot save you out here!"

Aemerys sneered. "Gold is not what you should fear."

With a loud command, he urged Valyros forward. The dragon reared back, gathering heat in his throat, and then a pillar of flame erupted forth, aimed directly for the deck where Rodrik stood.

But the kraken was not so easily taken.

Rodrik leapt, narrowly avoiding the fire that consumed the men behind him. He landed heavily, rolling to his feet as he barked an order to his archers. A volley of arrows whistled through the air, aimed not for Valyros’ armored body, but for Aemerys himself.

The young prince cursed, twisting in the saddle, feeling one arrow graze his shoulder. It did not pierce the mail beneath his cloak, but it was close. Too close.

Valyros shrieked in fury. Without Aemerys’ command, the dragon struck, claws raking across the deck, crushing men beneath his weight. He slammed his tail against the mast, snapping it like a twig. The ship shuddered as men scrambled to abandon it, diving into the burning waves.

Aemerys turned, searching for Rodrik, but the Ironborn captain had vanished into the chaos. He was no fool—he would not linger to die like the others.

The Lannister fleet had begun its full assault now, ships clashing, swords ringing against axes as the Ironborn fought desperately. But they had not expected a dragon. The tide was turning, and they knew it.

Aemerys circled once more before giving the command. "Enough," he murmured to Valyros. "They will not stand."

As if understanding the words, the dragon lifted his head and let out a final, triumphant roar. The sound carried across the water, over the dying screams, over the flames that still licked at the broken hulls. The remaining Ironborn, seeing their doom upon them, turned and fled, their longships breaking away from battle, oarsmen rowing with all their might.

Aemerys watched them go, his heart pounding, breath heavy. He could feel the blood seeping through his glove where the arrow had grazed him, but he paid it no mind.

Rodrik Greyjoy had escaped, but the message had been sent. The Westerlands were not weak.

And House Lannister did not suffer invaders lightly.

The war council had gathered in the grand hall of Casterly Rock, where a great map of Westeros was unfurled across the long stone table, weighted down by golden lion figurines marking Lannister strongholds and carved krakens representing the growing Greyjoy incursions. The air was thick with the scent of candle wax and parchment, and the murmuring of Jason’s advisors filled the chamber. Tyland had returned from King's Landing moons ago, bringing knowledge of the court’s inner machinations, and now sat to Jason’s right, while Damon Lannister leaned forward with his arms crossed, his expression one of scrutiny. Grand Maester Halford was also present, a stack of letters at his side, one of which bore the seal of Dragonstone—the matter that had led to this meeting in the first place.

Jason drummed his fingers against the table as he surveyed the council members gathered before him. The letter from Rhaenyra remained untouched before him, her proposal weighing heavily upon his mind. A betrothal between his youngest daughter, Aelina, and her son Aegon, a marriage that would further entwine the Lannisters with the Blacks, just as Aemerys and Alysera’s bonds to their dragons had already set a course for war. A match of great consequence, to be certain. But it was a trap, just like every other request Rhaenyra had made. A gambit to bring the Westerlands fully into her cause.

“I know what she desires,” Jason said at last, his green eyes cutting as a blade as they lifted to his council. "She seeks to secure the West before her enemies do. But I did not drag my family to Dragonstone so that we could become her vassals in this war. If I send Aelina to her, there will be no turning back."

Tyland, ever the pragmatist, inclined his head. "It is a strong match, Jason. Aelina would be a princess. And it would give us leverage—"

"It would give her leverage," Jason cut him off. "She'd hold my daughter, my blood, in her court, and she would expect banners and swords in return. If we do this, we are not just aligning ourselves with the Blacks. We are pledging our men, our gold, our strength. And I will not commit to war for anyone but my own family."

There was a murmur of assent from some of the men present, though others remained hesitant. Damon cleared his throat. "With all due respect, my lord, you cannot ignore the advantages this would bring. Aelina is young—her marriage would not be for some years yet. But binding ourselves to Rhaenyra through blood could ensure the West remains unchallenged by the Greens."

Jason's jaw tightened. He knew the logic, but logic alone did not rule wars. He had seen the destruction that came with dragons firsthand. He had seen the fire, smelled the charred flesh. He had watched Aemerys and Alysera bond to their beasts, and though they were his children, his flesh and blood, there was something about it that made his stomach twist in ways he could not admit.

Before he could respond, the doors to the hall burst open, and all heads turned sharply as a breathless messenger rushed inside, the Lannister crimson still bright despite the dust of travel upon his boots.

“My lord,” the man gasped, dropping to one knee, “a raven has arrived from the fleet.”

Jason's expression turned to stone as he motioned the man forward. Tyland straightened beside him, and Damon frowned, while Halford reached for the sealed parchment and cracked the wax. Silence filled the chamber as the old maester scanned the letter, his face tightening with every word.

“Well?” Jason pressed, his voice low and controlled, but there was tension coiled in his tone.

Halford exhaled and met his lord's gaze. “Your son, Prince Aemerys, engaged the Greyjoy fleet.”

A heavy silence fell over the room.

Jason's fingers curled into a fist upon the table. “Where?” His voice was sharp, demanding.

"Just off the coast of the Westerlands. He led the fleet against Rodrik Greyjoy’s forces," Halford continued, glancing at the letter once more. "There was a battle, but it seems our men held firm. And—" He hesitated.

"And what?" Jason demanded.

Halford's lips pressed into a thin line before he finally admitted, “Valyros was unleashed. The dragon burned several ships.”

The words hung over the council like a lead weight. Jason inhaled slowly, his fingers flexing as he leaned back into his chair. He could picture it all too clearly—the blinding streak of flame, the screams of burning men, the scent of scorched salt and charred wood upon the air. He had seen it before. And now, his son had made his first move as a dragonlord.

One of the advisors let out a low whistle. "Well. That will certainly give the Ironborn something to think about."

Tyland, however, did not look pleased. "This will only stoke the fire. The Greyjoys will not take this as a lesson learned. They will see it as provocation."

Jason exhaled slowly, rubbing at his jaw. He should have expected this—Aemerys was headstrong, much like his mother, much like himself. He had sent his son to defend the coast, not to begin a war at sea. And yet... this was not an ordinary battle. This was dragonfire. It changed everything.

His gaze flickered toward the letter from Dragonstone, still lying unopened before him. Perhaps Rhaenyra had expected this. Perhaps she had counted on his son embracing his birthright sooner or later.

Jason let out a slow breath before speaking, his voice steady. "Summon Aemerys the moment he returns. I will hear this from him directly."

Tyland inclined his head. "And what of the Greyjoys? If Rodrik lives, he will not forget this."

Jason's lips curled slightly. "Let him come," he said, his tone dark. "Let them all come."

The Westerlands would not bow. Not to Rhaenyra. Not to the Greens. And certainly not to the Greyjoys.

If war came to his doorstep, he would meet it with fire and steel.

The wind howled across the cliffs, carrying with it the salt of the Narrow Sea and the distant cries of gulls wheeling above the crashing waves below. It whipped through your hair, the long strands tangling in the air, though you did not move to tame them. Instead, you stood still, poised as if listening, as if waiting for something beyond the shifting tides and the unseen horizon before you.

Silverwing was beside you, her massive silver form resting upon the rocky outcrop, her scales gleaming even beneath the overcast sky. She shifted slightly, the movement subtle but unmistakable, as if she too sensed the unspoken thoughts that lingered upon your lips. The dragon had always been attuned to your presence, your emotions. Even now, she let out a low, rumbling sound—a reassurance, or perhaps a question.

The guards who had followed you here from the Rock remained at a distance, their boots crunching against the gravel as they paced, ever watchful but wise enough to leave space between themselves and the great beast beside you. They were not foolish enough to step too close to a dragon, nor foolish enough to try and dissuade you from coming here. You had always walked these cliffs, always sought solace in the embrace of the wind and the scent of the sea.

Your fingers twitched at your sides, tracing invisible patterns upon your palm as you listened. The world before you was dark, as it had always been, but there was something else within the blackness that sat behind your lilac eyes—a flicker of unease, a whisper upon the wind that had drawn you here.

"You feel it too, don't you?" you murmured, tilting your head slightly toward Silverwing. The dragon let out another low sound, almost a sigh, the great rise and fall of her breath causing a shift in the air around you.

Your hands drifted upward, brushing against the folds of your cloak, fingers tracing the embroidery at your sleeves—a habit, a tether. You thought of Aemerys, of his flight across the sea, of Valyros' fire lighting up the water. You thought of Alysera, of her bond with Vermithor, the beast that now roosted upon the cliffs near your home, unbothered by his new surroundings. You thought of the letter from Alicent, the desperate plea that had been read aloud by Leonella, and the tightening in Jason’s voice when he had spoken of it.

"You will not let me go," you whispered to the wind, to the sea, to Silverwing.

The dragon shifted again, her tail curling closer to you, as if encircling you in silent agreement. No, Jason would not let you go. And yet, there was a part of you that wondered if you should. If you were meant to.

The feeling had not left you—the weight upon your chest, the knowing sense that something was moving beyond the edges of your understanding. Your dreams had begun again, but unlike before, they did not take you to the Red Keep or to Dragonstone. They were not visions of a familiar past or the ruins of a distant future. They were something else. Something you could not name.

A gust of wind swept across the cliffs, and for a moment, you turned your face into it, letting it press against your skin, feeling the way the air shifted and carried itself across the vastness of the sea.

Soft footsteps approached from behind, measured and cautious. A voice followed, laced with concern.

"You should not be so close to the edge, my lady."

It was one of the guards, his voice respectful but firm. A man sworn to Jason, no doubt sent to ensure you did not slip too far into thoughts that could not be unraveled.

You exhaled slowly, tilting your head slightly in his direction. "I am not afraid," you said simply. "Silverwing would not let me fall."

The man hesitated, no doubt glancing toward the dragon, who remained impassive but ever-watchful. "Even so," he said carefully, "the Lord of the Rock would not wish for you to be out here alone."

A small smile tugged at the corner of your lips, though it did not reach your eyes. "I am never alone," you murmured.

There was silence, save for the crashing of the waves below. Then, after a pause, the guard took a step back. "Shall I send word to Lord Jason?"

You thought of your husband, of the weight he carried upon his shoulders, of the way he had looked at you after hearing of the raven from Alicent. Of the frustration in his voice, the worry behind his anger. He had enough to tend to without you adding to his burdens.

"No," you said softly. "I will return soon."

The man did not press the matter, though you could hear the hesitation in his step as he finally moved away, retreating toward the others.

You remained, letting the wind pull at your cloak, listening to the sea, listening to the unspoken things that rested just beneath the surface of your thoughts.

Silverwing shifted again, the sound of her wings rustling against the stone a steady comfort.

For now, you would stay.

For now, you would wait.

The stone corridors of Casterly Rock felt colder upon your return, the echo of your footsteps swallowed by the vastness of the great halls. Silverwing had flown back to her perch along the cliffs, leaving you to be escorted through the winding passages by the guards who had followed you to the shore. Their pace was steady, but there was an urgency in the way they moved, a stiffness in their silence that made your fingers twitch against the fabric of your cloak.

Something had unsettled the Rock in your absence.

The moment you stepped into the great hall, you felt the weight of it—the tension that crackled in the air like a brewing storm. Voices were raised, overlapping one another, and the sound of boots pacing against stone filled the vast chamber. There was a strain of anger beneath it, a sharpness that set the edge of the commotion into something just short of outright hostility.

"—insult of the highest order!"

"Jason will have him answer for this—"

"How dare he—"

The words blurred together, but the fury was unmistakable.

Your presence was not immediately noticed. The men gathered in the hall were too caught up in their disputes, their frustration so thick in the air that it nearly obscured the familiar voice that rang out, cutting through the noise with the same cold authority that had ruled over the Rock for decades.

"Enough," said Lady Leonella Lannister.

The room quieted just enough for her voice to carry, though murmurs still stirred beneath the surface. You felt the movement before you heard your name, the way the air shifted as someone turned to see you standing at the threshold.

"Lady Y/N," came the voice of Maester Halford, his tone tinged with relief and something heavier beneath it. "You have returned."

The attention of the hall turned toward you then, and though you could not see the way their gazes settled upon you, you could feel it—their curiosity, their urgency. A hand brushed against your arm, a silent guidance that you recognized as Alys, who had likely come searching for you in your absence.

"I heard raised voices," you murmured, tilting your head toward where you knew Halford stood. "What has happened?"

There was a hesitation, a shift in the air as men exchanged glances, uncertain of how to answer.

It was not Halford who spoke first. It was your mother-in-law.

"Your husband," Leonella said, her voice sharp but controlled, "is currently dealing with the matter."

You exhaled slowly, stepping forward, feeling the way Alys’ grip tightened slightly as if she anticipated you would need the support.

"And what matter would that be?"

A beat of silence.

"A message, my lady," Halford finally answered. "Delivered from the Green Council in King’s Landing. A rather… bold one."

Something cold curled in your chest.

"Tell me."

There was another exchange of glances, and then Halford cleared his throat, his voice lowering slightly as he relayed the words.

"It seems," he said carefully, "that Prince Aemond has been named Lord Protector of the Realm in Aegon’s absence, given the King’s continued convalescence. And in his first act, he has decreed that the Lady of Casterly Rock is to be returned to the capital… immediately."

Alys stiffened beside you. The hall was silent now, save for the quiet shuffling of boots, the restrained unease coiling in the air.

The demand was not a request.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of your cloak, your mind running through the implications of such an order. Aemond. It had been Aegon who had called for you before, but now—now it was his younger brother who claimed authority over you.

"Jason?" Your voice did not waver, though the weight of the moment pressed against you. "Where is he now?"

"With the war council," Leonella answered. "He received the raven before you returned. He has not left since."

You inhaled slowly, pressing the emotions that threatened to rise down into the depths of your mind.

"Take me to him," you said.

Leonella hesitated. "Perhaps—"

"Take me to him." Your voice did not rise, but the command was unmistakable.

For a moment, there was silence. And then, Leonella exhaled through her nose.

"Very well," she said. "Come."

The murmurs in the hall did not cease as you moved forward, Alys falling into step behind you, Halford shuffling along in the same hurried pace. The guards shifted as you passed, and though you could not see the way they exchanged glances, you could feel the shift in their movements, the way they fell in line to follow.

The war council had convened without you.

But it would not continue without you.

The heavy doors to the war council chamber swung open with a creak, allowing the murmurs of the gathered men to spill into the corridor. The air inside was thick with anxiety, the scent of burning candle wax mingling with the faint trace of wine and parchment. The room itself was alive with noise—heated voices speaking over one another, the dull thud of a goblet slammed against wood, and beneath it all, the heavy, measured pacing of one man.

Jason.

The instant you stepped into the chamber, flanked by Leonella and Maester Halford, the sound of his footsteps ceased. The voices died down, some trailing off in hesitant murmurs, while others were abruptly silenced by the sheer presence of your arrival. You could feel the weight of their gazes upon you, the sharp intake of breath from those who had not expected you to be summoned here.

"Leave us," Jason’s voice cut through the air like a blade. It was not a request.

"My lord," one of the commanders hesitated. "The council—"

"Is dismissed." His voice left no room for argument.

Chairs scraped against the floor as men hesitated for only a moment before obeying. You heard their movement, felt the shift of the room as they collected their parchments and shuffled toward the exit, their armor clinking as they moved past you. The room slowly emptied, save for the presence of Maester Halford, Leonella, and a few of Jason’s closest men, those whom he trusted most.

Once the door shut, the silence that followed was deafening.

Jason exhaled heavily, and then you heard him move—quick, heavy steps toward you.

"Why are you here?" His voice was still edged with anger, but there was something else beneath it, something darker. "Who brought you here?"

Leonella stepped forward. "I did."

Jason exhaled sharply, a sound of frustration. "Mother—"

"You should tell her yourself," she said simply.

Jason’s breath came uneven for a moment, and then, with a scrape of wood against stone, you heard him collapse into the heavy chair at the head of the table. His fingers raked through his hair, and you followed the sound, moving toward him until your hands met the carved wood of the war table.

"Jason," you said softly.

He did not answer immediately. You could hear him trying to steady himself, hear the deep inhale as he forced his temper down, as he struggled to keep the raw emotion out of his voice.

"You should not have come," he muttered.

You did not move. "What has happened?"

For a long moment, Jason did not answer.

Then, the sound of parchment sliding across the table.

"Read it to her," Jason ordered sharply.

A pause, and then Halford cleared his throat.

"It is a decree from the Crownlands," the maester began, voice carefully measured. "Issued by Prince Aemond Targaryen, now named Lord Protector of the Realm in King Aegon’s convalescence. It states that, by order of the Crown, Lady Y/N of House Targaryen, wife of Jason Lannister, is to be escorted back to the capital immediately."

The words hung in the air, suffocating.

You did not speak. You did not move.

Jason, however, was not so restrained.

"The gods-damned audacity," he snarled, shoving away from the table, pacing once more. His boots thudded against the floor with each angry step. "First Aegon, now Aemond. Do they think they can command my wife like she’s a piece of property to be passed around at their whim? Do they think I will stand for this?" His voice was rising now, fury vibrating through his words. "Do they believe I will allow them to take you away from me? From our children? From our home?"

"Jason—"

"No," he cut you off sharply, turning back toward you. You could feel the heat of his presence as he drew near, the energy rolling off him in waves. "I have had enough. I have had enough of their demands, their arrogance, their belief that I will kneel to them while they try to rip apart my family."

His hand brushed yours on the table, his fingers gripping yours tightly, grounding himself through you.

"If they want a war," he murmured darkly, "I will bring it to them."

You tightened your grip on his fingers. "Jason," you said again, softer this time. "You must think."

He let out a breath, but did not pull away.

"I have thought," he muttered. "And my thoughts lead me to the same conclusion: they will not stop until they have you."

You hesitated. "Aegon does not seek my death."

Jason let out a bitter, humorless laugh. "No. But Aemond might. And what of their mother? What of Otto? What do you think will happen if you set foot in King’s Landing, Y/N? Do you believe they will let you go? Do you believe they will not use you against me? Against Rhaenyra? Against all of us?"

The thought made your stomach twist.

Jason’s grip on your hand was still firm. "I will not let them take you," he said, voice low and raw. "I will not let them take you."

Silence stretched between you for a long moment, the weight of his words pressing into your chest.

Your grip on his fingers tightened. "Then do not let them," you said softly.

Jason sighed, and you felt the tension in his shoulders. "I won’t," he murmured.

Leonella spoke then, stepping closer. "Then what is the plan?" she asked. "The king’s men will not take kindly to outright refusal."

Jason straightened, rolling his shoulders back. "I will march on the Crownlands," he muttered.

Maester Halford shifted uneasily. "My lord—"

Jason’s voice was sharp, unwavering. "They have left me no choice."

"There is always a choice," Halford pressed. "If you march on the Crownlands, it will be seen as an act of war."

Jason let out a sharp breath, his tone unreadable. "Then let them see it for what it is."

You tilted your head toward him. "Jason," you murmured.

His grip tightened, his voice lower now, but still burning with intensity. "I have stayed my hand long enough. They have tested me, pushed me, taken my restraint for weakness. And now, they have overstepped. I will not be the fool they believe me to be."

His mother sighed, her voice softer now. "And what of the children?"

Jason inhaled deeply. "They will remain here."

"And you?" Leonella pressed.

Jason exhaled. "I will not wait for them to come to us. I will meet them first."

Your chest tightened at his words.

"Jason," you murmured.

He turned to you then, his fingers releasing yours only to cup your face gently, his thumb tracing the line of your cheek.

"I will not let them take you from me," he whispered.

Your fingers curled around his wrist, feeling the warmth of his skin, the certainty in his grip.

"Then do what you must," you whispered back.

The chamber was silent save for the distant crackling of the hearthfire. Outside, the winds howled through the high towers of Casterly Rock, but inside, the weight of something heavier than a storm settled between you and Jason.

He stood near the edge of the room, his back to you, one hand braced against the wooden post of the bed as he stared into nothing. His armor had been stripped away, discarded carelessly on the nearby chair, his tunic wrinkled from the long hours spent in council, but he had made no move to undress further, no move to join you in the bed as he usually would. His stillness was unnatural. The stiffness in his shoulders, the slow rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers curled into a fist against the post—it was not anger anymore, not the burning, unrelenting fury he had worn so openly hours before.

This was something else. Something deeper.

"Jason," you said softly.

He did not turn.

For a long moment, there was nothing but silence. Then, he let out a slow, uneven breath, tilting his head down, eyes fixed on the floor beneath his feet.

“I used to think,” he murmured, voice hoarse, "that dragons would make my House strong."

The words hung heavy in the air between you, and you felt the weight of them as surely as he did.

You took a careful step toward him, your hands feeling for the familiar path of the chamber. Jason must have sensed your movement because he exhaled, stepping toward you, his hands finding yours, gripping them tightly before he guided you closer.

"You remember," he said softly, almost hesitant, "when we were first wed? When I spoke of the future of our House?"

You nodded, your fingers squeezing his. "I remember."

Jason let out a low, humorless laugh. "I was a fool," he murmured. "I thought dragons would bring power, would solidify our place in the realm. I thought they would make us untouchable."

You listened, letting him speak.

He swallowed hard, his grip tightening around your fingers. "And now," he said, his voice barely above a whisper, "I fear they will take everything from me."

Your breath hitched at the quiet admission, at the rawness of his words. You felt his fingers tremble, the tension in his body not from anger but from something far worse—grief. The grief of a man who had fought so hard to keep his family safe, only to realize that safety had never truly been within his grasp.

His hands slipped from yours, only to cup your face gently, his fingers trailing over your cheeks, your jaw, memorizing you as if he were the blind one now, as if he needed to reassure himself that you were still here.

"They will take our daughter," he whispered. "Aelina. I will have to send her away."

Your stomach twisted. You had known this was coming. You had known that Rhaenyra’s proposal, the betrothal she had offered, was not something Jason could afford to refuse. If he wanted to stand against the Greens, if he wanted to ensure your safety, your children's safety, he needed Rhaenyra’s support.

But knowing it did not make it easier.

Jason’s forehead rested against yours, his breath warm against your skin. "I never wanted this," he admitted. "I never wanted to send our children away like pieces on a board, like sacrifices to a war that should have never been ours."

You reached up, your fingers brushing against the nape of his neck, soothing the tension there. "I know," you whispered.

Jason inhaled deeply, his hands trembling slightly against your face. "But I have no choice," he murmured. "Do I?"

You knew he already knew the answer.

"No," you whispered. "You don’t."

Jason exhaled, his grip on you tightening for just a moment before he pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you, holding you as if he could keep the world from tearing you away from him. His heartbeat was steady beneath your palm, but his breathing was uneven, shaky, like a man drowning, grasping for something solid to hold onto.

"I am so tired of this," he confessed, voice thick with emotion. "Of watching over my shoulder. Of waiting for the next attempt to take you from me. Of wondering if one day, it won’t be a demand in a letter but an army at our gates."

You pressed your forehead against his chest, your fingers digging into the fabric of his tunic. "You will not lose me," you whispered.

Jason let out a ragged breath, his arms tightening around you. "You don’t know that."

You pulled back just enough to cup his face, forcing him to look at you. "No," you murmured, "I don’t. But I do know you. And I know that you will fight to your last breath to keep us safe. Just as I will."

Jason swallowed, his jaw tense, his eyes burning with something unreadable.

He kissed you then, slow and deep, as if trying to pour everything he could not say into the way his lips moved against yours, the way his hands held you. There was desperation in it, a silent plea, a promise unspoken.

When he pulled away, his fingers tangled in your hair, his forehead resting against yours once more.

"I will not let them take more from us," he whispered. "I swear it."

You held onto him, letting the weight of his words settle between you.

Because neither of you could afford to lose anything more.

The wind howled through the courtyard of Casterly Rock, carrying the scent of the sea and the weight of farewell. The sky was overcast, gray clouds stretching endlessly above, a reflection of the somber mood that settled over the gathered assembly. The banners of House Lannister flapped restlessly in the wind, crimson and gold stark against the dreary sky, but no amount of grandeur could ease the ache in Jason’s chest as he stood beside you, his jaw clenched so tightly it ached.

Aelina stood a few paces ahead, wrapped in a thick traveling cloak lined with fur, her hair braided with careful precision, the strands catching the weak morning light like threads of sunlight. She was so young—too young, Jason thought bitterly—to be leaving her home, her family, to be sent across the sea as a piece on this gods-forsaken board of war. But it had been decided. It had to be done. He had told himself that over and over again, yet the words did nothing to ease the tightness in his chest.

Your hand found his, your fingers curling around his own in silent comfort, but even that felt distant, as if he were drowning in something thick and heavy, something he could not shake.

The rest of his family stood behind him—Leonella, who had not let go of Aelina all morning, her grief barely masked behind a composed facade; Tyland, grim and silent; Aemerys, who stood rigid and freshly returned from Greyjoy skirmish, his expression torn between fury and resignation. Even the younger children were present, though they barely understood the gravity of what was happening, only that their sister was leaving, and she might not come back. Rhaelya and Alysera were silent and pale, their gazes cast downward.

The ship waited in the harbor below, its sails ready to carry Aelina eastward to Dragonstone. Aboard it were men Jason trusted, men who would see her safely to her destination. Rhaenyra had sent word that she would be received as an honored guest, treated as family, but that did little to settle the unease in Jason’s stomach. Dragonstone was not the Rock. It was not his home. It was not his protection.

Aelina turned, her eyes searching in the direction of her mother first, and Jason felt your grip on his hand tighten.

“Must I go?” she asked quietly, and for a brief moment, she was not a girl, not a daughter of war, not a pawn in the game of kings and queens—she was simply a child, asking to stay with the only family she had ever known.

Jason swallowed the lump in his throat, stepping forward, his hand resting atop her head before he crouched down to her level. His green eyes searched her face, memorizing every feature, burning it into his mind because he did not know when he would see her again.

“I would not send you if I had another choice,” he admitted, his voice rough with emotion he barely kept in check.

She blinked up at him, small hands clenching at the edges of her cloak. “I don’t want to leave,” she whispered. “I want to stay.”

Jason's thumb brushed over her cheek, his heart twisting painfully in his chest. How could he ask this of her? How could he send her away, knowing it might be the last time he ever saw her?

But the decision had already been made. And the war did not wait for the wishes of children.

“You are strong,” he told her, his voice low but firm. “Stronger than you know. And when this is over, I will come for you. I swear it.”

Aelina sniffled, but she nodded, trusting him, believing him in the way only a child could.

Jason rose to his feet, looking toward you now, seeing the way you held yourself together for the sake of your daughter, for the sake of all of them. He could see the grief in your unseeing eyes, in the set of your jaw, in the way your free hand trembled slightly at your side.

You took a slow step forward, reaching out blindly until Aelina took your hand, pressing it against her cheek. Your voice, when it came, was steady, though laced with something fragile beneath the surface.

“You are my daughter,” you murmured, fingers smoothing over her hair. “And you are a dragon. Never forget that.”

Aelina let out a shaky breath before she pulled away, stepping back toward the waiting men. Jason’s throat felt tight, as if something was lodged there, something heavy and unbearable. He had fought battles, burned men, carved out his own rule in the West with fire and blood—but none of it compared to this. None of it compared to watching his daughter walk away from him.

She turned one last time, looking back at them all—at her siblings, at her grandmother, at the home she was leaving behind—before she stepped onto the carriage that would take her down the cliffs to the harbor below.

Jason stood unmoving as the procession rode away, as the sound of hooves faded into the distance. The wind howled louder now, the sea crashing against the cliffs below, but he heard nothing.

He only felt the hollow ache in his chest as he watched his daughter disappear beyond the gates of Casterly Rock.

[velvateen]

afternoon nap (zoro x reader)

the ship rocks gently as you and zoro take a nap together!!

no warnings. fluff!! ⭐️

The boat rocked gently, the waves embracing the hull of the ship in a serene display. The crew was overtaken with a feeling of sleep, the majority of them retiring to their cabins for a mid-afternoon nap, save for Sanji, who was prepping for dinner in the kitchen. His quiet humming added another level of tranquility to the scene, whatever song he was singing lost to the white noise emitted by the ocean.

You turn around in your bed, the blanket falling off your shoulder and draping across your body with no effort from you to correct it. You curled your knees up to your chest in a unconscious movement to warm yourself. The door was opened, the warm afternoon light falling across your sleeping figure. You groaned as it hit your eyes, and your arm moved to shield your eyes from it until the sun was blocked by Zoro’s arms, stretching over his head as he yawned.

You were quietly awoken by the sound of the shower being turned on, but you were half-awake and remained unbothered. A while later it squeaked off, and Zoro left the bathroom, a towel draped over his damp hair, and he tied his pajama pants as he made his way over to the bed.

The bed dipped with his weight, and the blanket you had sleepily discarded was brought back up to your shoulders. You laid on your side, still curled up a little, and you felt a large hand dip between your arms, carefully massage your back as he pulled you towards him.

Napping with Zoro was, in a word, warm. It didn’t matter that he had just gotten out of the shower, he would’ve been this warm regardless. He was like a heater, and it made naps like this wonderful. He drew you against his chest and the hand that was on your back reached to hold the back of your head to his chest. You subconsciously settled into his touch, enjoying the feeling of your cheek pressed into his soft muscles. You let out a sigh of contentment, a sleepy smile blooming on your face. He was asleep as soon as your arms surrounded his body, holding him as if it was what you were born to do.

A few hours later you woke up, the sound of rain hitting the small circular window of your cabin. It was only a small shower, nothing to worry about. Your sleeping beauty had his mouth wide open, a little drool pooled on the pillow next to his face. A small laugh escaped your nose at the sight, and you turned your body to look at the window. You could hear thunder crash in the distance, and the sounds of the waves and raindrops meeting in a rowdy dance. It was nice, to wake up to rain.

His heavy arm fell across your waist, scooping under it and pulling your back flush to his torso.

“Why’d you go,” Zoro mumbled, half-awake.

“I didn’t go anywhere, my love,” you held his arm, interlacing your fingers with his.

“Mmm… missed you.” He watched over your shoulder with tired eyes as you observed his hands and played with them gently. It was one of your favorite things to do, just to mess around with his hands like this, to press on his fingernails and massage his palms.

He hummed, “It’s raining.”

“I know,” you smiled. He watched as your cheeks rose with the expression, he found it so endearing. Craning his head over, he gave you a kiss on the cheek, making a cartoonish sound effect over it. You giggled as he pressed, his nose hitting your temple. You giggled as he placed more kisses against your neck and collarbone, peppering you with cheesy kisses, a silly smile spreading across his face as you writhed and wriggled playfully to get out of his reach, nevermind that you were still holding on to his arm as you did.

The relentless kissing attack he had unleashed on you calmed down after a few minutes, and you both continued to stare out of your little window as the thunder stopped and the rain continued. Zoro let out a big yawn behind you, and turned you back around to face him.

“You tired again?” you asked in disbelief, although suppressing a yawn of your own.

“It’s the rain,” he lied, one of his hands running down the top side of your thigh that was wrapped around his waist. The action made you shiver, and you wrapped your arms around his torso tightly.

“I literally don’t believe you for a second,” your voice muffled by his skin, “but I’ll play along this once.” A deep sigh left your lips and you settled your body into the mattress.

“I was hoping you’d say that.”

A/N my thumbs hurt from trying to get this damn blog set up. anyways mwah •.*

[she-who-paints-with-fire]

STORMBRINGER

Shift. Breathe. Move. Breathe. Turn. Breathe. Fire. Breathe.

Lux had been trained to always keep a particular mantra in mind: "Space buys time, time buys options, options buy victory."

[TARGET LOCKED]

[SHARANGA MISSILES ARMED]

Combat in a hard vacuum turned this mantra on its head.

In hardvac combat, space bought time, but the more time you had, the more problems you had. In hardvac combat you were on a time limit. Every breath of oxygen was precious; every bit of inertia needed to be metered out. Sure, you had the heart of a star and were powered by a series of cascading nuclear reactions that were for all intents and purposes providing infinite fuel, but if you were light-years from the nearest station, you'd run out of oxygen long before you got back into a pressurized environment.

If combat was a dance, hardvac combat was trapeze. One wrong move in your performance and you would break your neck.

[RADAR LOCK WARNING]

Lux wove right, narrowly avoiding a ship-scale laser. She could nearly feel the heat on her flesh; she could certainly feel it on her metallic skin.

[JAVELIN ROCKETS ARMED]

[FIRING JAVELIN ROCKETS]

Explosions rippled across the outer hull of the Calamity Supreme as Dawn Always Comes soared up the spine of the ship, scattering missiles across the railgun mountings, hoping to destroy or at least disable something important to lessen the storm of incoming fire that her battlegroup's Huron-class frigate. I Refuse To Sink was, at least, weathering the storm.

[TARGET LOCK]

[SHARANGA MISSILES ARMED]

Dawn Always Comes danced sideways once more and unleashed a barrage of self-guiding missiles against one of the ship-scale magnetic rails. Electricity ran along the rails as another slug prepared to fire; Lux found something that looked like an exposed support section and imagined it burning.

[TARGET LOCK]

[GANDIVA MISSILES ARMED]

It was like she was handing out explosive party favours, or lucid-dreaming. She closed her eyes and the target exploded in her mind, then she opened her eyes and saw twisted, burning metal. Energy continued running down the magnet lines; far down the railgun barrel a metal slug was slotted into place.

[WARNING - WITHIN APOCALYPSE RAIL BLAST AREA]

Lux darted upwards into a lag roll, spinning sideways and spiralling low until she was running alongside the hull at barely [ALTITUDE, ALTITUDE] ten metres. With but a thought and a muscle twitch, she targeted two laser-defense turrets, closed her eyes, and fired.

[TARGET LOCKED]

[SHARANGA MISSILE ARMED]

Flames leapt and devoured the metal like greywash. Lux paid them no mind and sped further down the hull [RADAR LOCK WARNING], rolling right and [CHAFF / FLARE, CHAFF / FLARE] firing countermeasures to disrupt a hostile fighter's targeting lock, dancing along the golden path like a tightrope walker at ten million metres in the sky.

Another laser passed close, superheating metal, causing no damage. Lux kept striding the golden path. Breathe in, breathe out.

"Captain Korai to ALLCOM. We're holding steady but taking a beating--if you could focus on disabling weapons systems, it would save a few lives."

Lux smiled despite herself, then refocused. She knew how to do this, even as point-defense formed a web around her and she continued to dance along the tightrope, finding every hole and slipping through like rainwater caught in a net.

Breathe in, breathe out. Dawn Always Comes strained against inertia as it shot upwards in a clean Immelmann turn. As she rose she looked at the Calamity Supreme, taking it in, analyzing all angles.

She closed her eyes. Breathe in. Breathe out.

She imagined it in every light. Every angle. She saw the crew onboard. The miles of circuitry. The guns, half-loaded. The broken armor panels. The ones still holding strong. The shattered hulls. The vented compartments. Those rooms that still teemed with life. The bunks within which the crew slept. The locked bulkheads. The engines, roaring and ready at combat speed. The bridge, from which the captain organized the entire ship.

She imagined the perfected ship. She held it in her mind. Silvery strips of metal chaff framed her like twinkling stars; flares formed an afterimage of wings.

Breathe in. Breathe out. Sacrifice time to expedite victory. Do it right. Breathe in. Breathe out.

[AVENGER SILOS ARMED]

On Venus, a thunderstorm began to form. Convection cells rose and cooled; lightning coiled and prepared to leap. Lux reached up and held the clouds tight.

[SHARANGA MISSILES ARMED]

Raindrops gathered in those heavy clouds. Wind began to speed up. Animals covered their patches of grass.

[JAVELIN ROCKETS ARMED]

Karateka sat at the centerfold of the storm, watching the rain swirl around her.

[GANDIVA MISSILES ARMED]

With a deep breath, she focused on the wind as it began to howl, the rain as it began to fall, the force of a hurricane all around her. She took it, focused it, let it flow through her. A thousand-thousand-thousand raindrops fell away from her palms as she released the stormclouds from her grasp.

[DIVINE PUNISHMENT PROTOCOL ACTIVE]

Raindrops that, taken together, could carve away the earth.

[ross-hollander]

In view of their...

...past high-velocity shenanigans, I present an assortment of predictions for the products of Clan Hell's Horses' R&D Scientists in whatever years may be to come:

Ramming tank. High-power engine and basically a snowplow on the front. Can take a Warhawk off at the ankles with a brief runup.

They invent teleportation; within the hour, they also invent telefragging, and within the month have designed either a vehicle or a missile type designed specifically to do it.

At least one hover-'mech. No legs, just hover engines strong enough to keep it in the air. Perfect for rough terrain.

Reviving the old Seabass concept for an underwater/aerospace unit (and constructing an actually functional version).

A 'mech designed to rocket jump.

Aerospace fighter than can dock on a 'mech to act as jump jets.

Seeing as they were at least half of the initiative behind Elementals as we know them, a new mark of Elemental armor that can Voltron itself into a BattleMech with the rest of its Star.

Close alternative, an enhanced version of the OmniMech with either launchers that straight-up launch Elementals, or hull-mounted turrets that they can crew.

Tank with another, smaller tank inside it. Destroy the outer tank and the inner tank is unleashed.

Cavalry 'mech. Not a 'mech which serves the tactical role of cavalry, mind you: one 'mech designed for another to ride into combat on top of it.

[howlingday]

If you could pick an Eggman mech for team Rwby to fight what would it be?

Im gonna be basic and say the Egg Dragoon.

Not a bad choice, but I've got a different mech in mind for this fight.

--------------------------------------------------

"Good evening, ladies and gentlemen~!"

"Huh?" Ruby looked to the hulking mech standing at the end of the street. It stood about as tall as some of the buildings, with one "hand" holding a massive shield the size of a bullhead while the other held a gigantic lance that seemed to be glowing with an orange light. The voice seemed to be coming from inside round-bodied machine.

"I've come to make an announcement! I am Dr. Eggman, and having arrived in this strange, new world, I have decided to expand the genius of my Eggman Empire to your world! Oho?" Team RWBY began their charge towards the now cackling man inside the machine. "So, please, do enjoy the show as I make an example of anyone who thinks they can stop me!" With a flick of a switch, missiles began launching towards the girls. "Get a load of this~!"

Blake hopped from one missile to the other before tying her ribbon around one and redirected it towards the machine. In response, it raised its shield to protect itself. With a grin, the madman launched his lance forward towards Blake, only to be knocked off-course by a yellow blur.

"What?!"

"Yang!" Blake called as she tossed her weapon to her partner. The yellow brawler caught it mid-air and used her shot-gauntlet to spin herself. Enough momentum was built to launch Blake closer to the mech.

"Too slow!" The mech leapt away with surprising speed, then swung its lance with a wide slash. Dr. Eggman led out a maniacal chortle as he watched the girl split in half... only to look closer in bewildered confusion as she was fine on the ground and an ice sculpture shattered in two places around her. "Great... Another super-powered animal who thinks they can play hero. I'll just take care of them from the air and- Huh?!" The mech attempted to lift into the air, only to be held fast to the ground by what looked like an iceberg around its leg. "Blasted ice... Full power to the left leg!"

The Egg Emperor took to the sky, ready to unleash another barrage of missiles on these four annoyances. Wait... There were only three on the ground. Where did-

Thoom! Thoom! Thoom! Skritch!

Ruby wasted no time after launch to dig her scythe into the hull of the mech, after firing with a few good shots, of course. Eggman turned the mech around to see the silver-eyed huntress looking at him with a scowling brow mixed with... no... She had that SAME cocky grin his nemesis had. Could he not escape that menace even so far away from home?!

"Curse you!" Backing away, the Egg Emperor launched everything it had at the little, red nuisance; lasers, missiles, its lance, and yet she still pursued in a shower of rose petals. With a spiraling motion, Ruby slipped under Eggman's guard and severed his shield arm. "Big mistake!"

Turning around mid-flight, it fired another barrage at Ruby, this time using homing missiles. As she fled, Weiss helped launch Blake and Yang to the mech. It attempted to swing its lance, but was held in place by some kind of magic... shaped like a snowflake. Blake and Yang began performing a spinning attack with Blake at the center and Yang as the pendulum force, driving deeper and deeper dents into the mechs hull.

Another retreat. He hated to be on the backfoot, but Eggman should have known that conquering a new world like this wouldn't be so easy, Sonic or no Sonic. And unfortunately, this world DID have a Sonic, who was screaming her way towards him... with all his missiles behind her. A classic maneuver, Ruby jumped away to safety, each missile colliding into the Egg Emperor's unprotected chest.

"Did... Did we get him?" Ruby panted, hands on her knees.

"Who was that guy?" Weiss asked.

"He said he wasn't from this world."

"Who cares who he is?" Yang called as she climbed up to the open chest cavity. "All that matters is that he's- WHOA!"

The blonde brawler was sent falling backwards as a bobbing balloon head bounced back and forth before the banded heroes. The balloon in question looked like a ball with half the face as a wicked smile, the other half a bald head, and a sharp, orange mustache and two, small blue glasses atop a pink triangular nose separating the two.

"Is that... him?" Ruby stepped closer, poking the ball with Crescent Rose.

"Did we just get duped?" Yang asked, rubbing her head.

"It's a decoy." Blake looked inside, past the spring. "There's nobody else in here."

"So, it was controlled remotely?" Weiss asked. "Then the controller must have been nearby. And probably long gone by now, too."

"Aw... And you were almost breaking a sweat, too." Yang teased.

"Oh, be quiet, Xiao Long!"

"Guys, let's not fight~!" Ruby whined.

--------------------------------------------------

"I knew I should have used the fully refurbished version." Dr. Eggman grimaced at his console. "I beat even the Egg-Mobile would have been more than enough to handle them." A grin spilt his face. "Of course, this was just a test run. Once I get my lab up and running here, I'll make those little girls regret ever thinking they could stop the brillian genius of Eggman! OHOHOHOHOHOHOHO~!"

[springingsour]

Nice Try... | BLINK One-Shot

The morning sun hung low in the sky, casting a warm golden light over the vast expanse of the ocean, its gentle waves lapping rhythmically against the hull of a ship that sailed these treacherous but beautiful seas.

The air was filled with salt and adventure, mingling with the sweet fragrance of ripe fruits that rested in a nearby basket.

A well-worn hammock swaying softly with the breeze was on the deck of the ship, hung between two sturdy masts. Nestled within someone, peacefully asleep, a serene expression was seen upon the figure, inhaling the fresh sea air. The hammock gently rocked as the ship glided through the water, creating a soothing lull that harmonised with the distant cries of gulls overhead.

Around the deck, the soft creaking of wooden planks and the occasional rigging clang added to the sea's symphony. The sails billowed, catching the wind with a sound reminiscent of whispers, as the ship sailed steadily toward the horizon, where the sky met the deep blue sea.

Unbeknownst to the sleeping figure, two young boys, crept stealthily across the deck. Their eyes sparkled with mischief as they plotted to sneak up on the sleeping figure. They moved with care, hearts pounding with excitement, hoping to catch their target by surprise and steal away a moment of joy amidst the sprawling ocean.

Together, they giggled in hushed tones, clutching their gear—plump tomatoes and a bucket of water in hand—as they drew ever closer. The boys were ready to unleash their playful ambush, unaware that beneath the figures' tranquil exterior, a spark of cunning awaited its moment to shine.

Two hushed voices floated through the balmy air of the ship, barely audible above the creaking of the wooden deck.

"Shh…! You're going to get us caught…!" whispered one boy, his eyes darting nervously over his shoulder as he meticulously loaded the cloth catapult with a ripe, red tomato. He aimed with precision at a shadowy figure lounging on the deck a distance away, his heart racing with the thrill of mischief.

"I'm being careful; you're the loud one…!" retorted his companion, who was hoisting an old bucket, grinning from ear to ear. The sunlight glinted off the surface of the bucket, revealing an array of plump, juicy tomatoes waiting to be unleashed.

"Okay… 3…" the first boy murmured, his voice trembling with excitement.

"2…" the second boy echoed, his grin widening as they prepared for impact.

"1…!"

With a sudden burst of energy, the bucket was hurled, and the tomatoes soared through the air in a vibrant arc, splattering onto the unsuspecting figure below. The delighted laughter of the young boys erupted like fireworks as they turned on their heels and sprinted away, the thrill of the prank propelling them forward.

However, their glee was short-lived. The wind suddenly blew right past them, and they knew it was too late. In their haste, they collided with the slick, tomato-splattered deck, losing their footing. The next moment, they found themselves sliding unceremoniously across the wet surface, the crew's laughter echoing in a hilariously tangled chorus of surprise and delight.

"AH!" came the startled cry from one boy as he bumped into a pair of legs adorned with gleaming golden sandals.

"HEY!" protested the other, he cried out in pain, rubbing his face where a red spot started to bloom, his tone now mingled with bewilderment as they came to a halt at the feet of a bemused onlooker.

A chuckle rumbled from above as you leaned down, an amused twinkle in your eyes as you surveyed the mess of tomato-stained clothing and exuberant grins before you. The scent of fresh tomatoes hung in the air, mixing with the salty breeze of the sea.

“Good effort, boys… Good effort indeed…” you remarked, an amused grin tugging at your lips as you sank your teeth into the ripe, juicy tomato, the sweet-sour juice bursting against your taste buds. You couldn’t help but relish their antics—the chaotic energy radiating between them was nothing short of contagious. "I suspect this was Shanks' plan this round…?"

Shanks, the red-haired boy with a wild spirit, glanced up at you, his eyes sparkling with mischief as he adjusted the straw hat perched jauntily on his head, the worn fabric tilting slightly to one side.

“Guilty as charged…!” he proclaimed with mock seriousness, his laughter echoing like music in the air. The sound was infectious, tugging you into a fit of giggles, but it only prompted his companion to exhale dramatically, exasperation painted across his features.

“Geez, you’ve messed it up again, Shanks…” Buggy grumbled, rising to his feet with an exaggerated sigh. He attempted to brush the vibrant tomato stains from his clothes, each swish of his hand only adding to the disarray, the scattered remnants of their playful food fight now colouring his outfit like a poorly executed art piece.

“Oh, come on, Buggy!” Shanks said, his eyes dancing with delight, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards in a grin that could light up the darkest of places. “It’s all in good fun! Besides, I thought you liked a bit of adventure!”

Buggy crossed his arms, his frown deepening into a comically exaggerated pout, but you could see the flicker of amusement that danced in his eyes, betraying his true feelings. “Adventure is fine, but next time, can we skip the food fight aspect?” he retorted, trying—and failing—to maintain his stern demeanour.

"Oi! It was your idea too…!" Shanks shot back playfully, laughter and annoyance bubbling between them as they both started to bicker, the light-hearted banter intensifying. They began gripping onto one another, wrestling playfully in a comedic display.

As the bickering escalated, you couldn't help but smirk at the unfolding scene. A sudden awareness of another presence made you turn your head slightly, spotting a certain someone less than pleased.

With a playful roll of your eyes, you decided to interject, desperate to steer the chaos in a new direction. “How about a challenge instead? Whoever gets caught by Rayleigh loses…” Your voice dripped with mischief, your proposal hanging in the air like an enticing promise of adventure.

The prospect of a challenge sparked an immediate flicker of confusion, quickly morphing into palpable fear in the two young pirate apprentices.

"Eh…?" Shanks uttered, a tone of disbelief colouring his words, while Buggy’s expression morphed into one of sheer panic, a shiver running down his spine.

A new game had been set in motion, and with it came the thrill of unpredictability—an adventure that promised more than just laughs.

"Oi! SHANKS! BUGGY! Why is the deck in such a mess!" Called out the voice of the first mate who sounded mad.  

The two boys cast curious glances your way, the realization of what you had done with the other tomatoes slowly creeping into their expressions.

"I couldn't let your hard work go to waste, now could I…?" A playful grin spreads across your face as you sink your teeth into the ripe, juicy fruit, savouring its sweet tang. "I’d start running if I were you…"

With that they darted in opposite directions, you couldn’t help but laugh again, leaning back against the wall to watch the chaos unfold. Their antics reminded you how much fun it was to be around such carefree spirits, each moment promising more laughter and chaos to come.

Buggy suddenly slipped on a stray tomato, sending him sprawling on the floor with a surprised yelp. Shanks doubled over with laughter, momentarily forgetting the danger he was in, while he rushed over to help Buggy up.

"So… the only time I see you two working together is to create more trouble, eh?" he huffed, his voice echoing slightly over the creaking wood of the ship.

Rayleigh, the ever-diligent first mate of the crew, stood with a furrowed brow, arms crossed tightly over his chest. His expression was a mixture of annoyance and exasperation as he glared at the two boys who had been caught in yet another bout of mischief.

With a sudden crack, the boys cried in unison, clapping their hands to their heads, where Rayleigh’s firm hand had made contact. It was a lesson they had learned time and again: their playful antics had consequences. Yet even in the flurry of their discomfort, there was a flicker of mischief in their eyes, as if they were already plotting their next scheme.

You leaned against the rail, a smirk dancing on your lips beneath your tilted hat. The laughter bubbled quietly within you, your wings fluttering subtly against your face as you enjoyed the spectacle. Rayleigh’s gaze, sharp and scrutinizing, caught yours, and his frown deepened.

"You couldn’t be bothered to stop them…?" he sighed, weariness manifesting in the lines of his face as he turned to face you, but a hint of fondness lay in his tone.

"What…? I didn’t do anything… I was simply resting, Ray…" You replied with feigned innocence, the corners of your mouth curling up into a grin. It was hard to keep up the façade as you strolled past them, adjusting your hat with a nonchalant gesture. Your wings fluttered gently, catching the afternoon light.

As you passed the two boys, their expressions shifted from pain to mischief.

While Rayleigh enforced the rules, you seemed to exist in a realm just a bit more playful, where trouble and laughter often went hand in hand. The stage was set for another day filled with the antics of a crew that thrived on camaraderie—and of course, a little chaos.

Such is the life when you are a pirate of Roger himself.

____________________________________________________

Buggy, grinning: Before you were what?

Shanks: Before I was-

Buggy: What?

Shanks: Before I was inter-

Buggy: Before you were interrupted?

Shanks: Cut me off one more time and I swear I'll-

Buggy: What?

Shanks: *makes frustrated sound*

You, munching on popcorn, enjoying the show: Stop that. Before he hurts you.

Rayleigh: Don't encourage them!

Buggy: I have met some of the most insufferable people. But they also met me.

*Shanks and Buggy are fighting*

Rayleigh, hungover after a night of drinking: I have a headache! Can you guys just be cool?!

You, hand them something: You heard him…

*Shanks and Buggy start fighting while wearing sunglasses and riding skateboards*

You, munching on more popcorn:

You: What doesn't kill me better start running, because now I'm fucking pissed.

Shanks: Onion rings are vegetable doughnuts.

Buggy, used to Shanks being dumb: Sure...

Shanks: Your stomach thinks all potatoes are mashed.

Buggy: Okay?

Shanks: Lasagna is a spaghetti-flavored cake.

Buggy:

Shanks: Lobsters are mermaid scorpio-

Buggy: Jeez! That one is a little-

You, interested as you munch on even more popcorn: No, no, Shanks, keep going.

Shanks: It's not like I try to blow things up, exactly. It just sort of happens. You've got to admit though, fire is fascinating.

Rayleigh: Are you listening to me?

You: *nods*

Rayleigh: What did I just say?

You: *nods*

Rayleigh: ...

You, munch on another dosagee popcorn:

Rayleigh:

You: *Munch*

Rayleigh, snatches your popcorn away: No more!

You: (   - ᷅ ⤙ -᷄ )

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