#Lurking Steel Titan

[cjcroen1393]

What if Nemona tried to tag along for Path of Titans:

Arven: Nemona, you can't fight the Lurking Steel Titan!

Nemona: Why not?

Arven: I saw it! It's BIG! SCARY! AND PINK!

Nemona: So is Florian's Flamigo, but I'm not afraid of her either!

[mymlala]

Here are the screenshots from the end of the herba mystica sammich ingredient gathering questy thing with the titans. Arven is a fun goofy “big bro” type of character, for sure. Also loved that sammich making theme that plays every time during these events. Such a great bop~! ♪

[lordfentongaming]

Pokémon Scarlet Violet How to Defeat the Orthworm Lurking Steel Titan & ...

[grippleback-shinydex]

Pokémon Violet Path of Legends completed on 06.12.2022

[cherry-flavored-sigh]

would you like a cute orthworm on a bucket hat? or a sticker? or maybe even a phone case? of course you would.

[makerofmadness]

My koraidon is traumatized huh

[ninibeingdelulu]

Mimicking his mannerisms ✧

Plot: You mimic your boyfriend’s mannerisms.

The first few times you tentatively mimicked Levi's trademark squint or the way his lips would purse into that flat line of displeasure while inspecting the troops' subpar work, he didn't pay it much mind.

Probably just chalked it up to you idolizing him as his protégé.

But after watching you dramatically cross those toned arms over your chest while staring some cadets down with narrowed eyes, growling

"Tch, absolutely pitiful..." in that signature surly rasp of his? Levi halted mid-stride, slate gray eyes widening an infinitesimal fraction.

Pivoting on his heel with eerie grace, the stoic captain leveled you with an inscrutable look for a prolonged beat. You simply blinked up innocently, struggling to smother your impish grin behind one hand. Clearly mocking his fastidious dedication to keeping the ranks in line.

Levi's brows furrowed into that signature vee of displeasure, jaw clenching almost imperceptibly. For a heartbeat, you wondered if perhaps you'd finally gone too far with the brat tendencies and irked your superior a bridge too far this time.

But then he inhaled a deep, measured breath through his nostrils, squaring those broad shoulders as he stalked over with unhurried confidence.

"You think you've got me all figured out, do you, brat?"

Up close, you could make out those gunmetal irises glinting with something akin to...challenge?

As if the mere notion of your uncanny impressions struck a competitive chord deep within Levi's core.

Before you could formulate a witty retort, Levi seized your wrist in a viselike hold, whirling you around until your back slammed against that solid, compact form.

His clean, crisp scent of soap and cinnamon wood filled your senses while steel-like bands looped around your torso, restraining your feeble squirming.

"You want to play-act being a hard-ass like your captain?"

His voice emerged a low, honeyed growl against the nape of your neck, stirring the fine baby hairs along your nape.

"Fine then. But you're in for a rude awakening if you think you can handle the responsibilities that come with the role, little brat."

With preternatural swiftness and power that never failed to steal your breath, he hoisted your feet clear off the floor, dragging your thrashing body towards his quarters.

Deaf to your indignant squawks, Levi simply pinned you with one of those merciless, heavy-lidded stares veiled behind midnight lashes.

"But I'm sure you're up for the challenge, aren't you...cadet?" He punctuated the sardonic lilt to his final insult by booting the door open, allowing you two to tumble gracelessly through in a flurry of flustered limbs.

What followed became a grueling tutelage in not merely emulating Levi on a superficial level - all stormy glowers and brusque commands.

Rather, he demanded you embody the same unwavering discipline and unyielding dedication to scrutinizing every minute element under your charge with brutal, unflinching focus.

Even if that meant meticulously inspecting every trembling, flushed inch of each other's bodies in the process.

Because in the former thug-turned-captain's eyes, mediocrity wasn't remotely acceptable - in duties, appearance or recreation.

As his gasping, euphoric cries rained down upon your sweat-slicked forms tangled amidst the rumpled bedsheets you recognized that familiar manic glint - the very same he reserved for annihilating Titans.

You'd mastered Levi's signature outward persona well enough to pull off an impression in passing.

But earning his respect and matching the consummate diligence lurking behind that mask of surly composure? Much more painstaking and satisfying still.

[hollideon]

3rd place — pilots, sisters?, bullying, reminding her of her place, knives and blood are so intimate when you're used to mech combat

///

lightly armed and spindly limbed, your opponent's warsuit is designed for killing speed and little else. headhunters, they're called. assassins purpose-built for taking down other warsuits. tricky opponents, but you know the type. pilots that are impulsive and reckless at best, feral and bloodthirsty at the worst. you happen to know this pilot in particular — your 'sister,' as your squad's handler so often puts it. hellion 3. warsuit: coiled serpent. javelin-class, ganymede-pattern, further customized for speed and cqc. yours, on the other hand, is a more balanced frame bristling with explosives and loaded barrels. your warsuit, winter wolf, may not be as cutting edge as coiled serpent, but the jupiter-pattern II marauders shouldn't be underestimated. you'll show her why.

though it can outpace your gatling gun's hail of fire easily, the barrage corrals coiled serpent right where you want it. you jetison the heavy gatling gun — load lightened, you push your thrusters to their limits in a sudden burst of speed and, clearing a hundred meters in a near instant. grabbinf coiled serpent by its throat, you clamp the enormous fist of your warsuit down on that fragile neck joint. watching a 30-foot steel titan with a price tag in the billions flail desperately for freedom, claw uselessly at your warsuit's armored forearm... it's a sight that never fails to turn you on. the metal groans and buckles in your warsuit's fist. your fist. you bite your lip, your mind filling with the urge to simply bear down with all winter wolf's strength and tear coiled serpent's head off its frame. if only a warsuit could bleed.

"gotcha," you growl over the radio, unable to contain the sadism dripping from your voice.

"fuckfuckfuck okay, i give, i give!"

you can hear the warning sirens in coiled serpent's cockpit, and the panic in hellion 3's voice. fear. you give coiled serpent's neck a parting squeeze before letting go.

"match to hellion 2. nice maneuver, kid." a wave of warmth flows over you at your handler's praise. you can't help but feel even more superior.

"and hellion 3? don't get caught like that again."

you sit there silently, taking pleasure in your sister's admonishing and imagining her squirming with embarrassment in coiled serpent's cockpit. you'll have your chance to gloat later.

the time it takes to get unplugged from your suit only serves to build your urge to a fever-pitch. you practically rip the last slithering nerve splice out of your spine yourself; you'll deal with the migraine later. hellion 3 is exactly where you'd expect to find her — lurking in the rafters above coiled serpent's bay. your bootfalls echo in the wide open space; hard to hide your approach, not that you're trying to. she sits there, legs dangling over the side, looking spent and dejected, smoking a cigarette. you can tell she gave her all.

"the fuck do you want? come to rub it in?"

you sidle up to hellion 3 — your sister — hands in your coat pockets, and grip the concealed knife.

"actually, i think i'll finish the job."

before hellion 3 can react, the sole of your boot connects with her chest, roughly shoving the frail form to the ground, clanging against the metal platform.

"hey, what the fuck do you think you're–"

the appearance of the knife from its hidden place in your pocket cuts her voice off. her eyes are locked on the knife. fear to supplant the brattiness. you lean in, right down to her face, the tip of your knife pressing ever so lightly into her chin, drawing her eyes up to meet yours.

"what's the matter little sister? you talk such a big game in the cockpit. where'd your fight go?"

fear and anger. resentment. fury. she wants nothing more than to take that knife and gut you, but she knows you have her. she has such telling eyes.

"what the fuck are you talking about? that's a knife, you psycho! what do you even want?" you push the knife a little harder. grind your boot into her chest. she winces and the fear in her eyes grows.

"to remind you what your place is. beneath me. you're mine." you pull your boot and the knife away and she gasps for breath; short-lived before your boot comes down again, on her neck this time. "say it."

her hands wrap around your ankle, fighting uselessly against the weight. "i'm yours," she manages to gurgle under your boot.

you let the weight off, boot still against her throat but no longer crushing her airway. "again," you order, letting the knife dangle in her periphery. "

she gasps for air, coughing a little. "i-i'm yours."

"good girl." you drop to your knees, straddling her waist. the knife slips under her tanktop, slowly cutting it away. "we don't need this anymore, do we? keep still or i might cut something important."

she shudders under the knife, watching the knife make its long cut up the length of her shirt. finally cut apart, you brush the halves to the side. she can't help but let out a breathy moan. you've seen hellion 3 naked before of course, that's life in the barracks, but not like this before. she lays there naked, pinned beneath you, shaking and shuddering with abject fear in her eyes — eyes that are locked on yours. you can feel the arousal, the hardness in her pants pressing against you. you could just drink it up. your eyes trace along all the scars left behind by cybernetic implantation, and you find yourself tracing the knifetip along them too. you want to press harder, to cut her open at the old seams, to reach inside and prod that cornered animal, just to see what she'll do. you press the knife against a scar just below her ribs. you really just can't help yourself. the red wells up and she cries out and — fuck, she's just so pretty like this. you toss the knife away, fingers of one hand stroking that wound, other hand grabbing her wrists and pinning them to the floor above your head. face to face again, you lick her blood from your fingertips and — god it tastes good — push them into her mouth. you don't need to say anything for her to start licking and sucking like her life depends on it.

"good girl," you growl. she whimpers around your fingers. "you taste so good, right?" you finger that cut again. she cries out in pain and you wipe the blood across her lips. "i'm gonna eat you alive."

she barely has time to whimper before you dive down to meet her lips. you kiss her messily, smearing blood and spit across her mouth, tongue pushing into her throat. each time you pull back you can't help but bite her lips, bite her neck, bite her shoulders, before greedily kissing her more. a mess of blood on her face, you feel it on yours too. you break the kiss, leaning back up. she's a mess, breathing hard, twitching, eyes staring off in the distance, wet spot on the crotch of her pants.

"hey, you still with me, kid?"

"y-yes big sister," she half-moans. "never kissed anyone before... is all." of course she hadn't. loser.

you push yourself off of her trembling form and stand, wiping the blood from your face, letting her stew in that confession for a moment.

"want more? you know where to find me, pup." you pick your bloodied knife up from where you'd tossed it and walk off, leaving her to lay there a whimpering, bleeding mess. she'll come running as soon as she recovers.

[exo-levi]

Could we please have 1. “I told you not to follow me.” “I couldn't just let you face this alone.” from your Levi prompt list?🫶🏼💕

Yes, sure! I hope you’ll enjoy this one! ��️

Inseparable Bonds

1. “I told you not to follow me.” “I couldn’t just let you face this alone.”

Pairing: Levi Ackerman x Fem!Reader

Word count: 903 words

Levi Ackerman paced restlessly through the dimly lit corridor of the Survey Corps headquarters. His boots echoed softly against the cold stone floor, a metronome to his racing thoughts. The impending mission weighed heavily on him, a gnawing anxiety that refused to be quelled. He knew the fate of humanity rested on their shoulders, and the burden was crushing.

As he turned another corner, he couldn't ignore the sound of footsteps behind him. He recognized that presence instantly—it was you. You'd been shadowing him discreetly for the past few minutes.

Levi stopped abruptly, his steel-gray eyes narrowing as he faced you. "I told you not to follow me," he said, his voice carrying a mix of frustration and concern. He hadn't wanted you involved in this perilous mission, fearing for your safety in a world teeming with Titans.

You met his unwavering gaze, determination shining in your eyes. "I couldn't just let you face this alone," you replied, your voice firm and resolute. Your heart ached at the thought of Levi bearing the weight of the mission on his shoulders without your support.

Levi's jaw tightened as he wrestled with his emotions. He longed to protect you, to shield you from the horrors that lurked beyond the safety of the walls. Yet, a part of him couldn't deny the relief that washed over him at the sight of you steadfastly at his side.

Before he could utter another word, you closed the distance between you, reaching out to gently grasp his hand. Your touch was warm, a comforting contrast to the chilling uncertainty of the world outside.

"Levi," you whispered, your voice barely above a breath. "We're a team, remember? We face these challenges together."

His stormy gaze softened as he stared into your eyes. In that moment, he realized that he didn't have to bear the weight of the world alone. You were there for him, just as he was there for you.

Levi nodded, a rare and genuine smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Yeah," he admitted softly. "Together."

With that unspoken agreement, the two of you continued down the shadowy corridor, walking side by side. The tension that had gripped Levi's shoulders eased as he felt your presence beside him. He wasn't alone in this battle anymore.

As the hours passed, the tension grew thicker in the air. The mission drew closer, and the weight of their responsibility bore down on both of you. The quiet moments between you were filled with unspoken words and shared glances, each serving as a reminder of the unbreakable bond you shared.

Eventually, you found a secluded spot in the headquarters where you could talk without prying eyes. Levi leaned against the cold stone wall, his arms crossed over his chest, his eyes fixed on a distant point. You couldn't help but worry about him.

"Levi," you began gently, "I know you're worried about this mission. We all are. But you don't have to carry the entire burden by yourself."

He glanced at you, his expression softening. "I'm the captain," he said quietly. "It's my duty to protect humanity."

You stepped closer to him, your gaze unwavering. "And it's my duty to stand by your side," you countered. "We face these challenges together, remember?"

Levi sighed, his shoulders slumping slightly as he relented. "I know," he admitted. "But I can't help but worry about what might happen to you."

You reached out and placed a hand on his arm, your touch reassuring. "I can take care of myself," you assured him. "And I know you'll always have my back."

He met your gaze, a mixture of gratitude and affection in his eyes. "I don't say it enough, but I'm glad you're here," he confessed.

A small smile graced your lips. "I wouldn't have it any other way."

The tension in the air began to ease, replaced by a sense of unity and determination. You and Levi were a team, facing the challenges of their world together. It was a bond forged in the crucible of battle, and it was unbreakable.

As the day turned into night, the two of you retreated to your quarters to rest before the mission. The silence was comfortable, the weight of the impending battle hanging over you like a heavy blanket.

Levi sat on the edge of the bed, his gaze fixed on the floor. "I don't know what we'll find out there," he admitted. "But I promise I'll do everything I can to keep you safe."

You sat down beside him, your hand finding his. "And I promise I'll be right there with you," you replied. "No matter what."

The room was filled with the soft glow of candlelight, casting dancing shadows on the walls. You leaned in, your lips meeting his in a gentle, reassuring kiss. It was a promise sealed with warmth and tenderness, a promise that no matter the challenges they faced, you would face them together.

As you lay in each other's arms, the weight of the world seemed to lift just a little. In that moment, there was only the two of you, bound by love and duty, ready to face whatever the future held.

And so, as the night deepened and the world outside grew darker, you and Levi found solace in each other's arms, drawing strength from the unbreakable bond that had brought you together in a world on the brink of destruction. Together, you were ready to face the unknown, to fight for humanity, and to cherish the moments of peace and love that you found in each other's embrace.

Prompts List. Masterlist.

Yours truly,

Rowan

[franklinfinley]

Alright, so.

First things first: Sparky solo'd Orthworm, the Lurking Steel Titan!!!!! I am SOSOSO proud of him and that win seems to have put the confidence back in his step :D hes prancing around all high and mighty. SO proud of him

And secondly... I feel like such an asshole for getting onto Arven's case so much.

We had the usual song snd dance after the Titan. We got the Herba Mystica, and he set out making sandwiches for us. He's pretty resigned about me feeding it to Koraidon instead, but the herbs REALLY seem to be helping. Even now, his wings are looking MUCH heakthier and hes actually able to support us gliding!!!! Which is HUGE progress!!

It went as usual with Arven making his sandwich for later, except this time Koraidon tried to eat it? And Arven just LASHED OUT at him. I thought for a second he was about to hit him...

I didn't really want to ask, but I felt like I was.owed some sort of explanation. I can't keep risking my team and our own necks all for some healthy herbs, especislly when I dont know what Arven wants with them. And... he told me.

He has a sick partner. A Mabosstiff. He's tried everything from potions to berries, snd nothing is healing his injuries.

It looks like internal damage. Arven didn't go into specifics but he was battered pretty damn hard. He can't really do much but lay there and eat if Arven gives him something- which is exactly why Arven was saving those sandwices "for later". He wants to get all the Herba Mystica to hopefully make Mabosstiff better.

It's so obvious in hindsight, and i feel like SUCH a jerk for trusting my own biases. The ONE TIME i dont get double-crossed is the one time i listen to my alarm bells. Arven doesn't blame me, but it doesn't mean i'm not kicking myself for it.

So, needless to say, I'm on a new mission. I'm gonna help Arven and Mabosstiff to the best of my ability.

[witchofthesouls]

Imagine the cyberization process of Earth was a success, and then combined with so many Things either sleeping for endless eternity or sealed away so long that humanity no longer remembers outside of the glimpses in legends, myths, forgotten dreams, and haunting nightmares?

Along with a twist of the Unicron-is-Earth with Earth as a reflection/child/younger sibling of Unicron, the raw creative drive behind Chaos...

None of the Autobots and Decepticons are prepared to handle this. They find themselves upon an Earth that’s been reset to its far more savage, primal state (for what is metal but refined earth?) to a time where humanity shared the planet with Others. A cyberformed planet that still retains its immense biodiversity.

The endless expanse of deserts and wild fields, dense forests that tower over them with the metal trees so massive it rivaled a Titan, the immeasurable Depths of the oceans where none of the probes could even reach the bottom, just going down, down, and down until forcibly stopped-

The Ark, the ship that the Autobots on Earth had to abandon, remains lost to the sea. All tracking results in errors. All saved coordinates leads to landmasses or a layer that cannot be reached. Not even the strongest lights could pierce the dark, sunless waters.

The presence of humanity is still etched into the land. Cites of steel and concrete still stand. Empty and haunting with so many statues of once-humans captured in their last moments. Figures in distorted shapes; amalgamations of many into one massive dump of countless limbs with no beginning and no end. The living will soon learn not to venture into these haunting spaces...

Even the animals are different. A lurking intelligence in their eyes, some sharper than others.

The Autobots meet Raf’s eldest sister in the once state of California where she was studying in university. In the heart of the Mojave Desert. The Equivels are alive. All of them dragons, but Pilar is the most dangerous one of the siblings for she remembers everything-

Earth had been a hot spot of activity, there are ways to open doors and portals to Elsewhere. Some return, fundamentally changed and marked in a way that will never leave them. Many, however, do not.

She didn’t want to Remember. To intrinsically know that the inferno beneath her metal skin, the sigils embedded in her powerful armor, and the plasma hair that flares with the sun is due to the Bargain to return to home.

(The Bargain remains active, but that brings no comfort. The Dragon for Home; she regains her lost powers in a new world for this Earth is not her home.)

She’s grieving. She’s raging. < She’s been baptized by the Sun itself and been reforged from the fury of her pyre once more - > 

Pilar wants to forget her life, all of it, to cast away her memories and return to the scorching sands beyond anyone’s sight, but Raf refuses to leave.

Raf screams, too, lost in his own senses and only a pup, refusing to budge out his alt-mode. The Autobots think it’s a Predacon frame. Yes and no; he has yet to earn his right to become a Dragon. He’s young; far too young to left alone and < there are many that salviate at such a delicious morsel. Little wyrm, lost and alone and so unguarded. > 

The Autobots are left alone by the many Things that hunt in the night when Pilar starts bunking with them. The twisted shadows and insidious croons are held back by the heat of the high desert noon she emits, a pair of blue optics, bright and luminous for miles and miles, has strange shapes flickering in an otherworldly sight as they track the hidden…

The Decepticons don’t handle to the new world very well. It’s not a remade planet  in Cybertron’s image and ready to move in. No, it’s still very much Earth in its old, unrecorded ages. The mines in the Nemesis’ systems are now useless or too unstable.

The Vehicons are being hunted when they leave the Nemesis. Shadows twisting unnaturally and creatures lurking in them. Dragging them down to the ravine and water edges, luring them to the undergrowth of the forests.

The ones found dead have armor plates wretched open, insides completely dry without a hint of Energon leftover, spark chambers pulled apart and empty. 

(No one is there to warn them to beware of the dancing lights, to leave offerings to the trees, to keep to the established pathways, to never to wander into grass that’s taller than them.)

They're being W a t c h e d.

A few return with gazes skittering to the sides and EM fields too burning, blistering hot and Arctic cold; quieter, far more quieter than Before. In the right light, traces of gold, silver, and other rich hues would line their faces in strange, moving patterns. 

Soundwave will be pitted against magical opponents that are delighted by his talents in the Mental Arts. Laughing and howling in abandonment when the mech figures out what is reality versus illusionary as they get a better grip on how Cybertronians perceive the world. They wish to see what is this one is truly capable of when properly nurtured…

Humanity still exists in a way. Remnants of Others still exist in human populations. Diluted yet slivers still active enough to derive certain talents, skills, and traits. Enough to be offered a choice…

The fae welcome their lost brethren and young hybrid descendants with open, hungry hands. Cooing over at the new-blood, so much like clay and ready to be worked into a masterpiece. Memories jumbled and wiped away like gossamer webs, so fragile and easily taken away. Crooning how they retain their short-lived, mortal old loves’ uniqueness: the brimming potential still potent in metal frames.

Less like clay, more like raw ore. Look at their precious treasures, lost like little lambs and stumbling like newborns, star-bright souls weeping at the pitiless world. Those tears are savored like fine wine as they put their little ones to sleep, they will teach how to use those new bodies for they are familiar enough with Clockwork and automatons < shapeshifter, oh shapeshifter; what form shall you take today >, how to rend with those claws and jagged teeth, the etiquette of the various Courts, and one day join the Hunt and feast in the glorious revel.

The sea calls with its haunting, unearthly song and accepts the drowned and cradles its lost children, metal or mud, it matters not to it. Colonies and communities heed their mother’s Call and come to reclaim.

And the world is pitiless being; its kindness can be so cruel. It doesn’t understands how its children can be maddened by grief and hearts so broken for it’s not the first time the cycle has been reset: and history repeats, the world rolls and rolls, again and again. It hums at the potential and heeds its own call: Adapt or Die. And so, monstrosities, from the depths of mortal nightmares and shattered souls, prowl upon the Earth once more.

The planet is Earth. Dirt and dust. Clay and coast. Land that touches the both air and ocean. Merciless and abundant. On this deadly planet, one could die from starvation while surrounded by paradise of food.

Earth has been born by a slumbering Unicron; its magma blood, bountiful seas, and rich veins of Energon, deeply guarded and so well hidden until now, feeds its hungry creations. Chaos calls to the dark god and Chaos courts its inhabitants, etched deep into crust and sediment, lovingly crafted into its wild fauna; the song of Conflict is a lullaby old as time itself. 

It sees these metal interlopers, so foreign yet similar like a distorted mirror for Unicron and Primus are brothers; opposites, yet equals. It sighs and sings out to claim them as well even as Unicron churns beneath. For the Cybertronians had tried to claim it as their own first.

They will have their wish granted...

Of course it leads to a lot of tension with its direct creations, wild with freedom and aching for their Mudmen. Their short-lived, ridiculously adaptable kin made of clay and water.

 < Then you shall replace them. Your people shall replace the Mudmen in all the ways it matters. >

[rock-n-rolycoly]

in honor of halloween, whats the scariest thing thats happened to you?

before my parents got divorced, we used to live in a small mining town called Taladro. it’s kind of in the center of East Province Area Three. i was pretty young back then, think i was maybe 11 or 12. but i remember i was walking to the schoolhouse one morning and then all around me houses started suddenly collapsing and sinking into the ground. i remember the concrete cracking beneath my feet and i took off running just before a sinkhole opened up.

turned out something had been digging tunnels beneath the town. massive tunnels. created instability beneath the town until one day it all just collapsed.

it wasnt until recently we found out the culprit was the Lurking Steel Titan.

[essentionesque]

LORE DROP???

Image text under read-more

Templar Emperors (Vegala 1) Humans have long since lived to grow and adapt as they survive the trenches of existential dread and woe. These wonderers believe in a religious overseer, but deluded themselves into thinking they had to create their overseer who was never going to come for them. Centuries pass as the land destroys its organic resource and turns to an era of artificial technology, borrowing from the minds of regular civilians and crafting what they believe is wizardry and playing with forces unbeknownst to them, but are in fact just mirrors of their own shells.

Crimson Colony (Vegala 2) Rising heat waves permeate from Vegala 1 and 3 as it creates fire and onyx. Gargoyles and orcs of magma and onyx come together born from the acidic fire that brims through their system. A system dividing these species moves their plates from one side of their system to another, like individual tectonic plates in their own orbit. Their 6 layers of hell act as the measure of depth one must remain in to survive in their atmosphere. Often times planets cross from one to another, which can often result in civil discourse. But from the flames becomes a forged arsenal of heavy weaponry each borrow as they grow stronger.

Phyliphasees (Vegala 3) Caught in between the fires of Vegala 2, and the parasitic gases erupting from Vegala 4, Angels of shining orbs were born. They were but mere glowing entities scattering through the cosmos of their own system. Their lives had moved far beyond the concept of survival, and had discovered the strength of being a light that keeps away the darkness. Many of these angels are cast away if they bring nothing to their planetary structure and are seen as lesser by their overseers. They would lurk across the planes of nothingness in search for a home, to which they would find it in a race of titan mechs.

Bozchlyth Gnial (Vegala 4) Millenia's pass through Vegala, and with rising pollution crossed between Vegala 5 & 3, gluttony and vile bacteria's evolved into freakishly barbaric Xenos races. They are a disease that prey on spreading across planes of land, consuming mass entities to transform and evolve throughout years, eventually being able to spread their wings unto territories unaware of their emerging swarms.

Trojan Magnus (Vegala 5) An age of mechanic tyranny bestows the regions of Vegala 5. Trojan Magnus. A war of machines came with a perilous fight for biomass, all in which to create super titans capable of fortifying their worlds and keeping danger away. These monsters are lesioned by dark angels that create forgery and harmony between steel and muscle, crafting the faces of blood and debauchery on a titans chest. A Trojan titan's bionic carnage knows no bounds when combined with super human organisms. They had faced Xenos armies before, and with their remains would become this forging.

Velvetta (Vegala 6) In the far away barons of Vegala Infinity remains a race of majestic elvan royalty bent on concealing archives of recourse to be sent back to Vegala Infinity. This empire was not about war, they were about protecting knowledge and bringing it back to their rulers caught in the middle of the Vegala bubble. Time after time, several of the various systems floating in space catch their eyes on this resource and instead come to lust for this knowledge and prey on its seed. Several times the Velvettans frail masses would succumb to invasion, and must spend the rest of their lives being defenders of resource.

[paradox-destroyer]

So, nevermind on waiting to handle the titan, I guess.

I was training today when I heard it crying. Went to check it out because it... Didn't really sound normal.

When I got there, I found out that the Titan had a Carkol fall on top of it (back-first, burning its head.

Lurking Steel Titan's an orthworm, which is a steel type, as the title suggests. So I'd imagine burns don't feel great on it.

I felt bad for seeing it like that though, so I went and gave it a couple Rawst Berries, then used a potion to treat the wound.

Then who else shows up than fucking Pompadour on Koraidon's back, ready to battle without question?

... Can't say I blame him, considering how brutal the last two titans were. Luckily no one got hurt, and I got the Titan to calm down after Pompadour startled it, and the Lurking Steel Titan turned out to be pretty sweet. Even let me pet it.

As a thanks, I guess, the Titan decided to open up the cave that the salty herba mystica was in and was on its way. Didn't even eat a little bit of it. I'm not complaining, though.

[Photo ID - The Herba Mystica in Arven's hand. Surprisingly, he WASN'T flipping off the camera this time.]

Suffice it to say we had a big lunch.

Koraidon can jump higher now, too, apparently. She seemed to be having fun with that. Hopefully, she doesn't use that to tackle the Old Man extra hard. Don't think I've seen her tackle him once in the first place, though.

Tomorrow, I'll head to Cascarrafa for my next gym battle.

[shiorihyugawrites]

Tides of Fate

In a world where powerful creatures known as sirens come to the shores of Paradis, the scouts are thrust into an unexpected alliance—one that is sealed through an ancient and seductive bonding ritual. Each siren has chosen a mate, and through their connection, the scouts are granted extraordinary powers.

As the bonds grow Mikasa’s jealousy threatens to unravel her. But the real danger lies not just in broken hearts, but in the lurking threat of Marley and those who seek to capture the sirens for their gain.

Power, desire, and duty collide, forcing the Scouts to navigate new emotions and alliances in ways they never imagined. Through danger, love, and sacrifice, the tides of fate will decide if their world will rise or fall. (Eren, Levi, Floch, Jean, Armin, Connie, Bertholdt, Reiner x OCs)

Chapter 46: In the Eye of Fury

The clash at the port of Liberio had transformed into a scene of relentless chaos, a cacophony of sound, steel, and fury that engulfed everyone in its wake. The sirens and scouts were giving their all, knowing that everything they loved and fought for depended on their success.

On land, the scouts surged forward, ODM gear hissing and snapping as they zipped through the air, expertly avoiding incoming projectiles from Marleyan soldiers stationed atop the port’s buildings. The sleek, rapid figure of the Cart Titan darted around, using its mounted cannons to fire at the incoming Paradis soldiers. Pieck’s unit in the Cart Titan aimed with deadly precision, creating a nearly impenetrable barrier of gunfire.

Eren, in his titan form, roared a challenge that echoed across the battlefield, his massive hands smashing down as he advanced. His eyes narrowed, catching sight of the Jaw Titan looming over the field, its towering form unmistakable. Porco met Eren's gaze with a smirk, taunting him silently. But Eren’s focus didn’t waver; this was the confrontation he’d been anticipating, and he refused to let his emotions cloud his judgment.

“Eren!” Mikasa called from behind, swinging her blades as she tore through a group of Marleyan soldiers. She met his gaze for a brief second, nodding her understanding of the unspoken plan. Eren’s job was to draw Porco’s attention, while the others would focus on keeping the battlefield clear of enemies.

Meanwhile, the ocean was a battlefield of its own. Below the surface, the sirens moved with deadly grace, their voices slicing through the water as they directed powerful waves toward Marley’s naval fleet. The water roared with the combined strength of their siren songs, creating massive tidal waves that slammed against the hulls of the Marleyan ships. Steel creaked and shattered, men screamed, and the sound of explosions echoed through the deep as ships capsized and were swallowed by the raging sea.

Luna led the charge in the water, her voice steady and clear, even as she bore the strain of maintaining the melody. Next to her, Aria’s fierce, determined expression mirrored Luna’s, her lavender eyes flashing with the glow of their shared purpose.

“Stay close!” Luna called to her pod, guiding them with swift movements and gestures, her voice calming despite the chaos.

Some sirens had already strained their voices from the earlier sonic attack, their abilities faltering with exhaustion, but none of them showed hesitation. Sera, usually the quieter one, was locked in combat with a group of siren hunters who had ventured underwater with specialized gear. Her once-soft voice had taken on a feral edge, churning the water around her into powerful currents that disoriented the hunters and sent them spiraling.

On the shore, Reiner, in his armored form, fought with raw ferocity, his gaze flickering back toward the ocean every few moments, searching for any sign of Rue. She was somewhere out there in the dark water, and he couldn’t bear the thought of her facing such danger without him by her side. Despite his instinct to dive into the sea, he knew his place was here, holding the line so that she could complete her mission without fear of their position being compromised.

“Focus, Reiner!” Jean shouted as he narrowly avoided a shot from a Marleyan soldier. Jean’s words snapped Reiner back to the immediate danger at hand. The two exchanged a grim nod, and together they pressed forward, their combined strength mowing down Marleyan forces in their path.

Floch, meanwhile, was tangled in a brutal skirmish with a group of Marleyan soldiers. His mind was split between the battle and thoughts of Bria, fighting just beyond his reach in the waters. As he threw himself into the fight, his voice rang out, fierce with desperation. “We’re not losing them to Marley!” he shouted, each strike of his blade infused with a fury fueled by love and fear.

Overhead, Levi moved with a lethal grace, his blades flashing in the daylight as he navigated the chaos, his mind focused on protecting his team. Aria was out there, fighting for their freedom, and Levi wasn’t about to let Marley’s forces overtake them here. He landed next to Armin, who was directing troops with tactical precision, the two working seamlessly as they strategized their next moves.

Back in the water, the sirens were running out of options. Many were reaching the limits of their abilities, and the relentless attacks from the siren hunters were beginning to take their toll.

“We have to push harder!” Luna called, her voice faltering slightly. She could feel the strain in her vocal cords, each note feeling heavier than the last, but she refused to back down.

Rue swam beside her, her movements slower but her resolve unwavering. “I’m with you, Luna,” she whispered, gathering the last of her strength. She unleashed a powerful note, causing another wave to crash against a ship that was attempting to circle around them. The ship groaned and tilted, water flooding the deck as it began to sink.

But just as the sirens began to gain the upper hand, a new wave of siren hunters arrived, armed with weapons specially designed to capture and immobilize them. Nets crackled with electric currents, slicing through the water as they closed in around the sirens. The hunters moved with ruthless efficiency, and the sirens, already exhausted, struggled to evade their relentless assault.

In the midst of the chaos, Solara found herself ensnared by one of the electrified nets. A cry escaped her as the currents surged through her, her body convulsing with the pain. Caspia rushed to her side, using her voice to create a whirlpool that tore the net away, freeing Solara but weakening her further in the process.

“Go, Solara! Don’t stop now!” Caspia urged, pushing her forward even as the water around them turned crimson from her own wounds.

On land, Eren saw the struggle in the water and felt his fury intensify. With a roar that shook the ground, he charged toward the Jaw Titan, his every step fueled by the desperation to end this fight and protect those he loved. Porco met his charge, the two titans colliding with an impact that sent shockwaves across the battlefield. Their fists met, and the ground trembled as they grappled, the sheer power of their confrontation tearing through the earth beneath them.

“Eren, don’t let him goad you!” Mikasa shouted, her voice cutting through the din as she dodged enemy fire to get closer to him. “Focus on the fight, not the anger!”

Eren’s vision was a haze of red, but Mikasa’s voice reached him, grounding him just enough to keep him in control. With a final, bone-crunching strike, he threw Porco to the ground, towering over him as he prepared to deliver a finishing blow.

But Porco only laughed, blood dripping from his mouth as he taunted, “Do you really think you can protect her, Eren? She’ll be torn from you, just like everything else.”

The words sliced through Eren, his fist wavering for a split second. And in that moment, Porco seized the opening, lunging forward with renewed aggression.

In the water, the sirens were reaching their breaking point. Luna gathered her pod around her, a fire in her eyes as she spoke, her voice carrying a fierce determination. “We cannot give up now. Together, we are stronger than anything they can throw at us.”

One by one, the sirens nodded, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten as Luna’s words reignited their courage. As a single unit, they unleashed another wave of powerful notes, their voices harmonizing in a force that reverberated through the ocean. The resulting tidal wave surged forward, crashing into the Marleyan fleet with devastating force, tearing through metal and wood alike, capsizing ships and scattering the siren hunters.

At the shore, Levi caught a glimpse of Aria, fighting with every ounce of strength she had, her voice merging with her sisters’ in the onslaught against Marley’s navy. Fear clawed at him, but he kept his focus, knowing that his mission here was to eliminate the threats on land and keep the path clear.

“Levi!” Hange called, landing beside him with a grin despite the chaos around them. “Let’s finish this and get them home.”

Levi nodded, his gaze hardening as he scanned the battlefield. “Right behind you,” he said, his voice cold and determined. The two charged forward, blades slicing through the enemy lines as they fought with the strength born from desperation and loyalty.

He moved with deadly precision, slicing through Marleyan forces with each flick of his blades. But his focus wasn’t on the foot soldiers, or even the Titans clashing around him—he was looking for Zeke. Levi knew the Beast Titan was lurking somewhere, watching and orchestrating the slaughter like the calculating coward he was.

Levi’s jaw clenched as he scanned the area. He could practically feel Zeke’s presence, hidden in the shadows, waiting for the right moment to make his move. Not this time, Levi thought grimly, determined to finish what they’d started. Zeke wouldn’t escape him. Not after everything.

Meanwhile, Eren was still locked in brutal combat with the Jaw Titan, Porco. The two collided with relentless force, Eren using his Titan fists to block and counter the Jaw Titan’s savage bites. Just as Eren began to gain the upper hand, a sharp whirring filled the air, and the Cart Titan, carrying a mounted artillery, joined the fray. Pieck’s shots tore through the ground, forcing Eren to dodge as he grappled with both Titans at once.

The scouts watched from their positions, their faces tense with worry. Mikasa and Armin were poised to jump in and help, and Jean was already coordinating their next move when something happened that froze them all.

Eren’s Titan head snapped to the side, his eyes catching sight of the ocean. There, in the murky waters not far from the shore, Luna was struggling. A harpoon, sleek and barbed, had pierced her tail, pinning her in place. Blood mixed with the water as Luna’s movements slowed, her strength draining as she tried to pull free.

“Luna!” Eren’s voice thundered from within his Titan, filled with a raw terror that shook the air around him. His body trembled as he watched his mate, his love, suffering.

The world seemed to narrow, closing in on Eren as his mind slipped into something darker, something feral. Every muscle in his Titan body clenched, and a deep, guttural roar escaped his lips—a roar filled with fury and grief that echoed across the battlefield, making even the scouts falter.

Eren’s Titan form swelled, his movements growing faster and more vicious. In his blind rage, he lunged at the Jaw and Cart Titans with a newfound ferocity, his attacks brutal and unrelenting. He slammed Porco into the ground, his fists pounding with such force that the very earth cracked beneath them. The Jaw Titan scrambled to fight back, but Eren’s fury was like nothing it had faced before.

Mikasa and Armin exchanged a worried look, their expressions mirroring the shock felt by everyone around them.

“He’s losing control,” Armin murmured, his voice thick with dread. “We have to stop him before he does something irreversible.”

Without hesitation, Mikasa shot forward with her ODM gear, her blades ready as she propelled herself toward Eren’s Titan. “Eren!” she called, hoping her voice would reach through his rage. But her pleas seemed to bounce off him like pebbles against a wall. Eren was consumed by his wrath, his only focus on annihilating everything in his path.

Back on the shore, Melody, Sera, and Bria were hauling Luna out of the water, blood trailing from her injured tail. They worked together to lift her to a safe alcove, their movements desperate but determined. Luna’s eyes fluttered weakly, her face pale from the loss of blood, but she managed a faint smile as her sisters laid her down.

“Stay with us, Luna,” Bria whispered, her voice filled with a rare vulnerability. She gripped Luna’s hand tightly, refusing to let go.

Hange arrived moments later, sprinting across the sand with medics close behind her. She dropped to her knees beside Luna, examining the wound with grim concentration. “We need to stabilize her, now!” Hange barked, her usual levity replaced by a steely resolve. She began giving orders to the medics, who moved quickly to follow her lead.

But even as the medics worked, the screams and thunderous roars of the battle continued to rage in the background. Mikasa and Armin were still desperately trying to reach Eren, but he was a force of pure destruction now, too consumed by fury to recognize friend from foe.

“Eren, stop!” Armin yelled, propelling himself toward his friend, trying to get close enough to reach him. But Eren’s Titan swatted him aside, sending Armin flying through the air before he could react. He barely managed to steady himself, his face pale as he realized just how deep Eren’s rage ran.

Mikasa gritted her teeth, her eyes blazing with determination. She refused to let Eren lose himself like this. Ignoring the danger, she landed on his Titan’s shoulder, gripping onto his neck as she yelled, “Eren! Look at me! This isn’t the way!”

For a brief moment, Eren’s eyes flickered, and he seemed to recognize Mikasa’s voice. But then his gaze shifted back to the ocean, to the spot where Luna’s blood still stained the water. His anger reignited, even more intense than before, and he unleashed another bone-chilling roar that reverberated across the battlefield.

Luna’s world was a haze of pain, her vision swimming as she struggled to open her eyes. She could feel the steady throb of agony pulsing from her injured tail, each beat of her heart sending waves of pain rippling through her body. But despite the haze, she could hear the familiar sounds of battle echoing around her—the clash of steel, the screams of soldiers, and the roar of Titans.

Her mind immediately went to Eren.

Forcing her eyes open, Luna’s gaze searched the battlefield, desperate to find him amidst the chaos. It didn’t take long. The sight before her made her heart twist in terror and desperation. Eren was out there, locked in combat with Marley’s Titans. His attacks were fierce, unrelenting, but she could see that something wasn’t right.

Eren was losing control.

His movements were wild, each strike more reckless than the last, his Titan’s form brimming with rage and pain. The destruction he was causing was massive, tearing through the battlefield with a primal fury. But he wasn’t seeing clearly—his focus was scattered, his attacks raw with grief and fury. Luna could feel the anguish radiating from him, the intense need to protect her that had driven him into this dangerous, berserk state.

Summoning every ounce of strength, Luna opened her mouth, her voice weak but filled with determination. “Eren…” she whispered, the words barely escaping her lips. She could feel her voice faltering, struggling to reach him over the distance.

But he couldn’t hear her. Her words were lost amidst the roaring destruction of the battlefield.

Mikasa, standing on the edge of the fight, had noticed Luna’s weakened attempt to call out. Realizing what Luna was trying to do, she shot a quick look toward Eren’s Titan. “Eren!” she yelled, her voice cutting through the chaos. She pointed sharply in Luna’s direction, her tone laced with urgency. “Look! Luna’s alive! She’s okay!”

At Mikasa’s words, Eren’s Titan’s head snapped in Luna’s direction, his eyes widening as he focused on her. Luna lay amidst the debris, blood staining the ground around her, but she was conscious, alive. Relief coursed through Eren, the wild fury that had overtaken him beginning to ebb. His Titan form’s shoulders heaved as his breathing steadied, his rage transforming into something softer, something that gave him clarity.

But at that very moment, as Eren’s focus returned to Luna, a group of Marleyan soldiers took advantage of the distraction. A line of Anti-Titan rifles was raised in his direction, their bullets primed to strike at his nape. They fired in unison, the projectiles tearing through the air with deadly precision.

Luna’s heart stopped as she watched the bullets slice through the distance. She could see exactly where they were headed, straight for the vulnerable nape of Eren’s Titan. A scream tore from her throat, filled with terror and desperation.

“No! Eren!” Luna’s voice broke, her scream carrying across the battlefield. She could feel her heart breaking, the unbearable thought of losing him sending a wave of panic through her.

The scouts nearby turned, their faces pale as they saw the bullets close in on Eren’s nape. Jean and Connie both yelled out, Armin’s eyes widening in horror as he reached out instinctively, as if he could stop it from where he stood.

The bullets struck, and Eren’s Titan staggered, his massive body collapsing forward, hitting the ground with a heavy, earth-shaking crash. Dust and debris flew up in clouds around him, obscuring him from view. The silence that followed was suffocating, and in that moment, everyone froze, horrified at the realization of what it might mean.

“Eren…” Luna’s voice cracked, her mind racing with fear. A shot to the nape could mean only one thing.

He was gone.

Tears pricked at the edges of her vision as she tried to sit up, desperation driving her to move despite the agony coursing through her. The world around her seemed to fall away, leaving only the devastating thought that she had lost him, that her mate was gone forever.

But then, amidst the stunned silence, a flash of lightning split the sky.

The unmistakable surge of Titan power crackled through the air, and the ground trembled as Eren’s Titan form emerged once more, rising from the dust and debris. His Titan’s roar echoed across the battlefield, loud and defiant, and Luna’s breath caught in her throat.

The Marleyan bullets had missed—barely. Eren had managed to detach from his Titan body just in time, dodging death by a hair’s breadth. He’d then reformed his Titan, powerful and alive, standing tall against the forces that had nearly ended him.

Luna’s heart surged with relief, tears filling her eyes as she watched him. “Eren…” she whispered, her voice trembling with a mixture of disbelief and gratitude. He was alive. He was okay.

As Eren’s gaze turned toward Luna, their eyes met across the battlefield, a silent exchange passing between them. His expression softened, the fierce determination in his eyes mingling with a deep, unspoken relief. She was safe, and he was here. Nothing had been lost.

Eren’s rage had subsided, his mind clear and focused once more. His Titan’s stance shifted, prepared to continue the fight, but this time with control. He would protect Luna, protect everyone he cared about, with everything he had. This battle was far from over, but he knew he would see it through to the end.

From the sidelines, the scouts shared looks of astonishment and relief. They’d all thought they’d lost him, but Eren’s resilience had proven unbreakable once again. Mikasa allowed herself a small, relieved smile, her heart steadying as she watched Eren stand tall in his Titan form.

Jean, catching his breath, muttered under his breath, “He really doesn’t know how to die, does he?”

Connie chuckled weakly, shaking his head. “That’s our Eren, all right.”

Armin’s gaze remained fixed on Eren, a look of profound respect and admiration in his eyes. He knew that Eren had fought through unimaginable odds to survive, driven by a strength and loyalty that defined him. Armin’s own resolve hardened, knowing they would fight alongside Eren until the very end.

In the ocean alcove, Luna let out a shaky breath, her body sinking back into the care of her sisters. Relief washed over her, easing the tension that had gripped her heart. She knew that Eren would keep fighting, and that together, they would face whatever lay ahead.

For now, all she could do was trust him.

~

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[kraviolis]

betting on the flood against the ark (The Owl House)

Rating: Teen Relationships: Belos & Golden Guard OC (Darius's Mentor) Words: 2.9k Additional Tags: Manipulation, Implied/Referenced Abuse, Toxic & Unhealthy Relationships, Complicated Feelings, Grimwalker Lore, Emotional Hurt/Comfort But The Comfort Is Kinda Fucked Up Summary:

“Grimwalker.” Kane repeats, irreverent. “And here I was, still thinking those were nothing more than a scarytale parents tell their children to frighten them into not wandering off in the night.”

“Is that all they’re known as, now?” Philip hums in amusement. “A hundred years ago, Grimwalkers were more of a myth or a legend that one told over a campfire; the corpses of Basilisk victims so desperate to get their magic back that they’d devour the still-beating heart right from the chest of any unlucky witch who lost their way.”

“That could explain my preference for rare steaks.”

AO3 LINK

__________________

“Kane,” Belos’s voice is cold as steel and twice as sharp. “What are you doing here?”

Kane doesn’t answer him. None of his answers would be satisfactory to the Emperor and despite it all, he still couldn’t help but wish for his approval. 

(What a mess he was. Still pretending as if he could ever be truly special in Belos’s eyes when even his own face is the copy of a dead man’s.)

No, Kane doesn’t even move. He stays perfectly still, kneeling with his head bowed. His gaze stays locked to the hand of a child sticking out of what looked to be a grave, but Kane now knows it’s more akin to a womb, if anything. After a moment of silence, Belos sighs in a way that says he’d been expecting a confrontation of some sort. 

Did the others try to fight him? How idiotic, Kane thinks.

The Emperor– no, this isn’t the Emperor right now. This isn’t even his old mentor and friend who always makes an effort to spend a portion of his very minimal free time with Kane, who enjoys splitting a bottle of mead and making fun of the other Coven Heads behind their backs.

This is someone Kane knew had always lurked under the old man’s skin but had only ever seen glimpses of. 

(The decade-old scars on Kane's back itch.)

The… the thing wearing his mentor’s face approaches Kane from behind, his gait and footsteps the same as they’ve ever been. The earth is cold and hard against his knees, even through the padding and armor.

“What is your name?” Kane asks, not turning his head.

“Philip,” He answers with a disturbing amount of eager honesty, like he’s been waiting years for the chance to say it out loud. “My name is Philip Wittebane.”

Kane nods in response. They fall into silence again. 

He almost wants to ask if Bel– if Philip is going to kill him. A stupid question to ask. It would be the same as committing suicide, because he’d be giving up control over his fate, just letting Philip forge whatever answer he pleased. Still, he’s burning to know if he even has a chance of leaving this room alive or if it’s foolish to hope. 

Kane wants to live. Titan below, he wants to live. He wants to do his work as the Golden Guard, he wants to bring order and peace to the Isles, he wants to keep teaching the Coven initiates and watch their potential flourish under his guiding hand. There's still so much more that Kane wants to do with his life. He could be so much more.

The boy sleeping under the dirt twitches a finger, dreaming of a world he’s yet to know.

“Do you name them?” Kane asks instead. “Before they’re…”

“Exhumed?” Philip offers.

“Exhumed.” He swirls the word in his mouth like wine. It tastes like rot.

“No, I don’t.'' Kane can see Philip's shadow tilt its head in consideration. “I can’t be sure if they’re entirely viable before their first breath. It’s a rather tricky process, making a Grimwalker.”

“Grimwalker,” He repeats, irreverent. “And here I was, still thinking those were nothing more than a scarytale parents tell their children to frighten them into not wandering off in the night.”

“Is that all they’re known as, now?” Philip hums in amusement. “A hundred years ago, Grimwalkers were more of a myth or a legend that one told over a campfire; the corpses of Basilisk victims so desperate to get their magic back that they’d devour the still-beating heart right from the chest of any unlucky witch who lost their way.”

He says it with the embellishment of a master storyteller. Even the false description makes Kane feel as if something is crawling up his spine.

“That could explain my preference for rare steaks.” He tries to joke, trying to make the tension between them loosen. It feels as easy as it always has been and Kane wonders, not for the first time in his life and certainly not for the last, if there truly was something deeply, irreparably wrong with him.

Philip gets a kick out of the joke, at least. He chuckles, his shadow cast against the wall shaking in mirth. “Ah, you never fail to surprise me, Kane. You’ve always stood out from the rest of them.”

Lie. Kane smiles, turning his head to finally look up at the man behind him. “One of a kind, right?” 

Philip hums again and smiles back. It's indulgent and gives the impression of a predator playing with his prey, despite how his pupils are disturbingly dark even in the low light. The way his eyes aren’t reflective in the dark like all other witches has always been unsettling to him.

“Stand.” Philip commands. Kane obeys, rising to his feet unsteadily. “Can I tell you a story?”

“It depends,” Kane studies his mentor with a piercing gaze. “If I listen, would it allow me to continue my duties?”

Philip's eyes widen, and he blinks down at his student. It’s not only a mild surprise, there– Kane’s actually shocked him for once. “You still wish to serve as the Golden Guard?”

“I cannot see any other path ahead of me that’s worth pursuing. All other roads lead me away from where I want to be," Kane explains. “And where I want to be is with the Coven.”

It isn’t a lie, not really, but it isn’t the full truth. The other paths that Kane could see had the odds stacked against his desire to survive this encounter. He would meet the same end in all of them, the same end as the ones before him who had also learned the truth.

Kane saw the list of names in the journal kept on the slab across the room. He read the reasons why he was here and not them.

(Doing the exact same thing over and over again and expecting different results is the definition of insanity.)

(The ones before him were all at least a decade younger when they were culled. If he had been their age, maybe he would’ve done the same. As it is, Kane is simply too tired and worn-down by life for outrage.)

Philip regards him with a raised brow and suspicion lined in his face. “And you expect me to believe you? After all the times you’ve betrayed me before?”

Kane has never once betrayed him. He has been nothing but loyal and they both know this– the implication that Kane is the same person as the ones before him is nothing but bait. It's only Philip trying to rile Kane up and accidentally reveal his true intentions.

What are his true intentions? Kane himself doesn’t even know what he intends to do. He knows what he should do, what the ones who came before him would want– but they aren’t here, are they? They were foolish and acted on instinct before logic and every single one of them died because they thought they were different and could do what many stronger and wiser than them have failed at.

No. There is no should do, would do, could do– Kane cannot hinge his own life on the wishes and failures of the long dead, no matter how much he wants to honor them. He is not them. He is not them . They all share the same blood and bone but Kane is more than the legacy they’ve left behind.

(For years, Kane has hated the haunted look his mentor gave him sometimes. It was as if he wasn’t even looking at him, but a ghost.)

The Emperor’s coven has always encouraged forging your own path to success. To climb higher above the rest using what the Titan has granted you. Kane is an empty-chested half-witch but he climbed higher than any of them just because the Emperor believed he could.

A memory comes to the forefront of Kane's mind, honey-sweet but foggy from the years and from his own intoxication in the moment.

(“I can never repay you for what you’ve done for me,” Kane said once, his voice blithesome and his tongue loosened from bottles of warm mead. “I'll give you anything you ask from me. Anything at all.”)

(“All I ask, Kane, is for you to remain by my side.” Philip, his face flushed from his own drink, had told him- because it had to have been him, the real him, not his countless facades. “Your friendship means more to me than you will ever know.”)

Yes, the Emperor is a liar. Always has been and always will be. Kane cannot deny this, because he has known from the very beginning. He's known for years and years and yet he still dedicates his life to him, because the man standing before him is the one person that Kane has ever loved. the closest thing to family he has ever known. 

Kane is numb to the lies Philip tells so easily. When Kane was still young and still cared about where he came from, his mentor would smile and give him nothing but falsehoods of a life he’d once had but lost, the one he was told he couldn’t remember. 

(“You and your family were attacked by wild witches,” The stranger explained when he was barely fifteen years old, while Kane gently prodded at the bandages on his head. “The coven scouts managed to save you, but… they weren’t fast enough. now both your family and your memories are…”)

(Kane had looked at this man sitting next to his bed and didn’t believe a word he said. But he wanted it to be true, so he nodded in acceptance and watched the man’s lips curl into the self-satisfied smile that Kane sometimes saw in the mirror.)

Also, Kane has never once claimed to be some kind of bastion of truth. Of course he’s lied before. A student always ends up reflecting the qualities of their teacher, after all, and neither one of them have deluded themselves into thinking the other is only ever purely honest, nor have either of them ever assumed entitlement to every little secret the other holds.

Yet they’ve both continued to trust each other with their lives, and even with things far more important, because at the end of the day, what would it even change? Having the confirmation that the story he’d been fed his whole life had been nothing but a lie truly did mean almost nothing to him. He’s never craved a life he will never have. He’s found contentment in the hand he’s been dealt. This was something he’d accepted a long time ago.

No, it’s not the lying he’s upset about. It’s the truth.

(Kane had collapsed to his knees the second he saw the child’s hand. He hadn’t reached for it only because he didn’t know if he’d have the strength not to dig him up out of raw instinct.)

It would be easy to lie to Philip and say he’s not upset about any of this. It would be so easy to tell him that he didn’t care about the other Grimwalkers, that he holds no sorrow or grief for them, or even that he hates them because of how they’d supposedly betrayed Philip again and again.

But lying is how they both got here, and he is tired of trying to keep up with all the lies between them.

So Kane takes a breath, looks Philip in the eye, and he tells him the truth.

“Do you think I care for you so little that lying to me could make a difference?”

Philip's face is an open book without his mask, especially now that he’s not also hiding behind a false identity. He cannot help but broadcast his every emotion and thought, even now. Kane watches as the extended shock before it melts into something… more personal. Something that has Philip searching, yearning, hoping that these words weren’t another lie to smooth his paranoia long enough for Kane to slip a blade between his ribs.

Kane knows his friend has been hurt by someone close to him before. Not just from the green scars of his curse that stripe his body, but also from the way Philip acts when it’s just the two of them, when they take off their masks and put away their titles. 

The downside of trying to hide your wounds from someone who knows you is that you often overcompensate and end up drawing too much attention to it anyways. It's like trying to hide a stain on a rug by removing the entire rug, only for the discoloration of the floorboards to give you away.

“I thought you would be more… upset over this,” Philip begins to circle him, and Kane represses a shudder at how closely he’s being observed. “How can you still wish to carry on working the same as you have, as if nothing has happened?”

“What else do you suppose I should do?”

“Leave? Run off in an attempt to find your own answers?”

“I'm too old to go on a journey of self-searching. That’s something for teenagers to do during their gap year between graduation and Coven applications.”

“Are you not even angry with me?” Philip frowns, stopping his slow tracking. “Do you not have any desire to lash out and kill me for what I've done?”

“My apologies, your Grace.” Kane drawls as he folds his arms behind his back, his voice dripping with sarcasm. He doesn’t mean for his calm demeanor to fall but he can only take being doubted for so long before it begins to sting. “I didn’t realize being angry and wanting to commit regicide were the same thing.”

Philip tilts his head, a strand of his gold-grey hair coming loose and falling across his face. “You are upset.” He murmurs, finally taking notice. “Oh, you are furious over this.”

“What I'm furious about is that even after dedicating my life to you, you still question my loyalty over something as petty as– as this.” He makes a general, sweeping gesture at the entirety of the room. 

Another half-truth. Kane cannot think about the child underneath the earth and the dozens of boys and men who came before him and were seen as nothing but work oxen, or he may actually risk lashing out.

(Finding ways to pull the rage and sorrow from his chest can come later, when his life is not actively hanging in the balance.)

“Surely you can understand my concerns, my friend.” Philip inclines his head, spreading the fingers on one hand. “I have not lived this long by blindly taking even my most faithful at their word, nor by just sitting idly by and waiting for an attack when I could be taking steps to prevent it from ever happening.”

“How long have you– nevermind, don’t answer that.” Kane sighs, running a hand through his mane of chestnut hair. “I don't know how I can convince you that what I'm saying is the truth– because it is. It’s just… difficult, trying to find the words I need when you’ve probably heard my voice say them all before. In this very room, even.”

“...I have.” Philip admits quietly, looking at Kane with a faraway gaze. As if he is seeing the ones that Kane is currently standing in the very footsteps of.

“We… we are going to have problems to work out between us, after this. We might never return to what we once had together. But we can’t let this divide us," Kane raises a hand and clenches it against his chest. “Not now, not when we’re so close to eradicating wild magic and finally honoring the Titan’s will.”

Philip blinks and then blinks again. There's a second where he just stands there, staring at Kane with wide eyes and a slack jaw. His gaze darts rapidly between Kane's eyes, trying to find… something.

Whatever he finds must be adequate, because he lets go of the breath he was holding.

“Yes,” he whispers, then clears his throat. “Yes, you’re right, Ca–ane. We… we still have work to do, don’t we?”

Kane nods and then, impulsively, he falls to one knee, bowing his head in deference exactly as he has always done. As he will continue to do.

“I swear on the blood and bile of the Titan to continue to honor my oath as the Golden Guard. I will follow your will until the day I die, Emperor Belos. Philip Wittebane.”

Coward, his own voice whispers inside his head. You selfish coward. This is not honor.

It’s not, he agrees, pushing away his disgust. It’s survival.

“Rise, Golden Guard.”

There's a real smile on his lips when Kane meets Philip's eyes again. They’ve gone soft around the edges in the way he rarely ever sees, the crows feet at the outer corners more pronounced than ever. The bright blue stands out against the pale of his skin and the dark green of his cursed scars. His gaze is kind and warm, as if inviting Kane in and welcoming him home.

“My dear friend,” Philip croons. He reaches out to hold Kane's shoulder, squeezing affectionately. “I truly believe you are my best work out of them all.”

Horrifically, Kane can’t help but preen at the praise.