Homestuck Ships Novels & Stories

The number of times that I had called to check up on her was enough to tell her that I was not doing great without her by my side. Was I over thinking things? Or was I doing too much by seeing her as my future wife when she didn't look like she had feelings for me? It was crazy but I didn't mind. Good things take time. *** The drive to the seaside town was longer than I anticipated, but Tom was a good distraction. He kept up a steady stream of conversation, talking about everything from his latest gaming obsession to his classmates who he played with in school. All children's talk. I barely had anything to contribute because I could not relate but I still tried to keep up with the conversati

The black ships hung in the air like heavy stones. Blue beams of light hit the streets of Lagos, turning buildings into dust and smoke. People below ran in every direction, but there was nowhere to go. The ships were everywhere, covering the sky like a lid on a pot. I looked at my right arm. The purple ink was moving fast, stretching across my skin like veins. It was forming a map of the city. Every time a ship prepared to fire, a red light pulsed on my arm. It was a warning system. The "Writer" was still part of me, even if I was in the real world now. She was feeding me data from the enemy’s network.

The morning after Inquisitor Vane’s ultimatum, the Blackwater River looked like a graveyard of iron. Three massive Southern warships sat anchored in the center of the flow, their steam vents huffing rhythmic clouds of grey smoke into the pristine mountain air. They were "teeth" of a different kind—not bone and sinew, but coal and steel. ​Rhea stood on the battlements, her fingers tracing the rough stone of the manor. Beside her, Elias was a statue of suppressed fury. The grey-gold veins on his neck pulsed in time with the thrumming of the ships' engines.

We hear the roar of Thypon in the distance. ‘We must all go, now! ‘Towards the ships!’ Damon shouts. We shift into our wolves, and the little orcs and sprites are placed onto our backs. We race along the shoreline until we reach the docks where the ships are anchored. I look at Magnus as we see they have been destroyed. We shift back and cautiously approach. I notice a lot of movement in the water beyond the destroyed ships. ‘There’s something in the water,’ I say, pointing at the ripples.

Behind him, the Outcast Legion—wolves who could shift mid-air into specialized combat forms—poured over the cliffs like a waterfall of fur and steel. Jace disappeared into a shadow, reappearing on the deck of the flagship. Within seconds, the black smoke from the ship's funnel turned a sickly, glowing green. The "Blighted" steam began to eat through the iron pipes, turning the dreadnought into a self-destructing cage. From my high vantage point, I watched the "impenetrable" fleet crumble. It wasn't a battle; it was an execution. But then, I felt it. A cold, sharp needle of pain in the back of my neck.

screens began to turn black. "Hello, Father," the boy’s voice whispered through the intercom. "Thank you for reopening the line of credit. I’ve been waiting in the 'Deleted Items' for a long time." The Mid-Point: The Siege of the Spire In New York, the "Re-Formatting" of the black ships hit a catastrophic snag. The ships that were turning into libraries suddenly halted, their hulls sprouting obsidian thorns. The iridescent light of Hope Thorne-Vance began to flicker as a bronze-colored signal began to broadcast from the Basement in the Suburbs.

I whispered. ​"I see it," he said, his eyes turning a lethal, glowing green. ​On the horizon, a fleet of ships appeared. They weren't made of wood. They were made of iron and steam, their chimneys belching black smoke that stained the moonlight. ​The "Kings from across the sea" had arrived. ​I took Liam’s hand, my silver light flaring to meet his emerald fire. ​The story of the Silver Rejection was a tale of the past. The story of the United Pack was the present.

**Kelly Thompson's POV** The black stars aren't stars-they're *ships*. Massive, jagged vessels blot out the fractured sky, their hulls bristling with weapons that hum with the same green lightning as the Arbor Prime. The Eden shard pulses in my grip, its voice fraying at the edges. **"They've come to sterilize the infection. That's us."** Veyra stares at the armada, her Custodian-metal stinger trembling. "We need to run."

POV EMMA BELLE The harbor of the Triple-Spire was no longer a sanctuary for Northern ships alone. Vessels of impossible design—some made of living coral, others of pressurized mercury, and one that appeared to be a hollowed-out asteroid—were settling into the sapphire-and-prismatic waters. They were the Fringe-Lords, representatives from the ten thousand "Laboratory Worlds" that had failed where we had succeeded.

In their panicked flight, the Medina family's ships headed toward Forgotten Shore. "What's that?" Krish Medina looked toward the family head, Calum Medina. The Medina apprentices following behind couldn't help but exclaim excitedly, "Ships! There are so many ships!" "Did we stumbled upon a harbor?" "It’s definitely a harbor, there must be immortals on the island." "God has not forsaken the Medinas!" Calum clenched his fists. This was their last resort, so Calum and his family ordered their fleet to advance at full speed.