#sometimes I miss the red hair but the upkeep was such a pain in the ass

[deputyrook]

hey do any weirdos or freaks want to fall deeply in love with me really quick? 🗡️🫀

[niki-phoria]

METAL MOUTH

pairing: jisung x gn!reader (no pronouns used) genre: fluff word count: 639

includes: reader has lip piercings (implied to be snake bites), nervous jisung, not proofread and i don't have any facial piercings so pls forgive any mistakes !!

summary: jisung likes your piercings - maybe just a little more than he likes you.

jisung is staring at you. you can feel it. his gaze never leaves your face as he watches you carefully adjust the thin metal rings piercing through your skin through your bathroom mirror. 

wide eyes meet your own when you turn around to face him, softly chuckling at the way the boy startles. “what?” you playfully cock your head at him; a smirk tugs at the corners of your lips. “is there something on my face?” 

“no,” jisung replies, softly shaking his head. he slips fully into the room, letting the door quietly shut behind him. despite now being face to face, jisung’s gaze still lingers on your lips for just a few seconds too long to be totally platonic.

hesitantly, he raises a hand up until his fingertips are mere centimeters away from the metal. “what do they feel like?” he finally murmurs after a period of silence. 

“i’ve had them for so long they just feel normal to me,” you shrug. “i only really notice them when other people bring them up - or when i’m doing something near my mouth, like brushing my teeth or something.” 

“i guess that makes sense," jisung hums. you ignore the disappointment that courses through you when he lets his hand return to his side - widening the space between you once again. "did they hurt?”

“not much,” you shrug. “cleaning them everyday was a pain, though.”

“sometimes i fall asleep without taking my makeup off,” he chuckles. “i don’t think i’d be able to handle the upkeep.”

“you get used to it,” you smile. “have you ever thought about getting any yourself?”

“sometimes. never seriously though.” 

you nod in acknowledgement, leaning back against the bathroom counter. in the momentary silence, jisung finds himself staring at your lips once again - more specifically at the thin rings looped around your mouth.

“you look really nice.” the words escape his mouth before he realizes what they are. you softly smile at him as his face flushes a bright red; jisung’s mind races to come up with an excuse. “your piercings - i mean.” 

“so you don’t think i look nice?” you tease.

jisung bites his bottom lip. “of course you do,” he finally murmurs. “do they affect kissing?”

you freeze. wide eyes meet your own before jisung quickly takes a small step backwards away from you. he stares down at his feet with overly flushed cheeks. 

excuses fall from his lips in waves before you take a step closer, limiting the space between you once again. jisung pauses when you reach up to cup his cheek with your hand. “i’m not sure,” you murmur. there’s a beat of silence before you speak again. “...i’ve never kissed anyone before.”

“do you want to?” his voice is so quiet you almost miss it entirely. the feeling of your heart beating so rapidly in your chest is almost overwhelming. 

“yeah,” you finally whisper. “i’d like that.” 

your eyes flutter closed as jisung slowly begins to lean in. your breath hitches in your throat from the anticipation before he finally presses his lips against yours. 

jisung’s lips are soft - softer than yours. your bodies move in an unconscious rhythm as you slowly continue to limit the amount of space between you. his touch is gentle as he rests his hands on your waist; your arms snake around his neck, just barely beginning to tangle into his hair.

you only pull away when the lack of air begins scratching at your lungs. you’re all but panting as jisung leans in, resting his forehead against your own. “so?” you whisper with a shy smile. “how does it feel to kiss someone with piercings?”

“it’s better,” he breathlessly chuckles. “way better.”

your rebuttal dies on the tip of your tongue when jisung leans in, pressing his lips against your own once again. 

if you enjoyed this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, consider checking out my nct dream masterlist <3

[drurrito]

Stare

warnings: injuries, some blood

———————

Natasha hates when people stare.

She’s so used to not being perceived, it actually was a matter of life or death before she became an Avenger.

It’s been another adjustment she’s had to make in this journey of wanting to right her wrongs. Now it’s more of a public affair rather than something she can keep close to her chest or behind a closed door.

She is on display everywhere she goes. It’s hard to miss that fiery red hair of hers and the sure-of-herself sway in her hips that carries her through the forests of eyes that follow her. Her jaw is always set in a way that tells everyone she will bite when she feels threatened. She wears a suit of armor that doesn’t need polishing, but does need upkeep every now and then to keep it fortified against the leering and judgment.

Natasha has a sixth sense for being watched, she caught you the first time you ever laid eyes on her after you arrived at the compound. She gave a tight smile and walked off in a different direction, you watched her go.

The second time she felt your gaze was on the jet to your first mission as an Avenger. You studied her, she was breathing much steadier than you were. She kept her eyes fixed on the clouds floating around the windows while your chest eventually fell into the same rhythm as hers.

Staring is one thing, approaching is another. The staring makes people bold and somehow gives them license to come up to her, invade her space. Sometimes it’s to say how big of a fan they are of her or how good she’d look naked in their bed or on their lips. Other times it’s to sneer at the idea that she’s a hero. “One of Earth’s mightiest,” she kept in her back pocket to say. She was always gone before anything more was said.

You rarely did approach. It was usually for something related to work or when the guys would goad you into being the one to invite Natasha to team activities. Natasha could count on you to keep your distance. You just preferred to have steady hands and a dry forehead around your teammate.

Natasha felt your eyes scanning her body while she held herself still against the cool slate wall. There were a lot of bullets zipping around on the final push out of the base your team had infiltrated hours ago.

“You’re hurt,” you state, crouching down to get a better look at her.

“Just a flesh wound,” Natasha groaned and gave herself away with how pained she sounded. Your fingers carefully moved her hand that was covering the wound.

“It’s pretty deep.”

“Stay with Rodgers,” she protested, “I’ll catch up.”

“Not a chance,” you reached into your pack and pulled out a few things to patch her up. You were both in a bubble, little sound from the ongoing clash surrounding could penetrate this moment.

Parted lips and dulling eyes watched as you made quick work of the wound.

“There,” you beamed with a few seconds of pride at your handiwork. Natasha was growing more woozy from the loss of blood.

“I’m not leaving you here,” her weary eyes snapped up to meet yours. You looked so genuine and stupidly noble in that moment.

“Just go,” she said with half a smile and a playful shove at your shoulder. She ignored the warmth that bloomed all over her body and watched you go before her world went dark.

————————

When Natasha woke up, her sheets were damp with sweat and her throat was raw from screaming. Her wide eyes scanned her surroundings and her breath evened out when she realized she was in the compound. She was about to pad towards the kitchen for a fresh glass of water when there was a knock at her door.

“I’m sorry,” your eyes bounced off of her own and around the room behind her, “thought I heard screaming.”

“I was,” she said, her own eyes sapped and somewhat sunken in, “m’alright.”

You leaned back to let your shoulders relax and hoped the rest of your muscles would follow suit. You glance at the scar from her injury on that mission a while back. It was pink and raised, you bet it was warm to the touch too.

“Do you want to grab a glass of water with me?” it was an honest request that Natasha couldn’t bring herself to say no to. You both walk in step through the halls until you’re in the kitchen. You wordlessly motion for Natasha to sit and wait until you slid a full glass in front of her.

She could feel you watching her as she took sips.

“Are you okay?” you said it so quietly on a chance that she didn’t hear it and you could avoid that glare she only saves for those drunkenly bold idiots at Tony’s parties or when Steve’s meaty arms tried to encircle her for a hug.

She looked at you first and quirked her eyebrow before redirecting her attention to something on the counter. You followed her line of sight and froze when you realized your fingers grazed the inside of her wrist. You know Natasha isn’t a fan of being perceived and especially of being touched.

You tried to retract your hand in a cool manner but cool dove headfirst out of the window when you felt her grab your fingers with a touch you didn’t think she was capable of.

“I will be,” she muttered and squeezed your fingers. You stayed like that for a few minutes and then some when Natasha left to go back to bed.

The rest of the days that came, you still kept your distance, until Natasha pulled you close enough to make sure you wouldn’t leave just yet.

She still hates it when people stare, too many eyes try to look at her all the time. But under your gaze, she felt seen.

[concealeddarkness13]

WHG 15 Post-Games Brains and Brawn Part 6

This is happening around the beginning of the third week. Tagging: @ratracechronicler, @maple-writes (also thanks for Richard and Volt!), @pen-of-roses, and @thoughts-of-nora!

Shine came into my room at the beginning of the third week after the end of the Games. They smiled at me and texted. “I’ll be working on Richard’s machines today, so you’ll need to help me.”

I nodded and stood up. “I’ll totally help! Let’s go!”

They shoved some bags into my hands, and they headed off to Richard’s room. I just followed along behind. It would be nice to see Richard again. He was cool.

They knocked on his door, and he opened it. Shine signed, slow enough that I could tell what they were saying. “Hi! If it is ok, would I be able to start repairing you machines? I have prepared.” They gestured at the bags I was carrying. “And I have an assistant.” They gestured back at me, and I waved and smiled.

Richard smiled and let us in. He signed back at Shine. “Come in.” He nodded at me and spoke. “And good to have you too.”

I laughed. “Shine just says I’m here to manual labor. But it’s fine. I’d still like to spar with you at some point.” Shine rolled their eyes at that.

He laughed as well, but he had a tired smile. “We’ll have to find a time then.” He ruffled my hair affectionately and then turned to Shine and signed. “Where would you like me?”

They signed back. “Wherever you are most comfortable. I think I will start with your arm. There are probably worn down joints in your limbs.”

Richard gave him a thumbs up, and he laid down on the bed before he propped himself back up and signed. “Are you okay with making the incision or do you want a hand?”

They grimaced. “Help would be appreciated. I have not really worked with the biological side of things.”

He pointed to a scalpel blade in one of the bags I had set down near Shine. “Pass that over and let me know when you’re ready to start.”

I dramatically pouted as Shine nodded and handed the blade to Richard. They grabbed some tools, and then they nodded and signed again. “I am ready.”

Richard took the blade, took a deep breath, and made an incision in his arm, and I flinched. How could he do that? I didn’t take a close look as Shine did. Richard texted something, and Shine put us in a group chat so I could see it too. “Most of the blood flow’s shunted away from this part for now.” He smiled at Shine. “Don’t be nervous.”

Shine nodded and texted back. “Thanks.” And they got started. I sat up straighter as they gestured for me to hand them tools. I frowned as they worked. I couldn’t watch. So, instead, I would bother Richard.

“So, how did you learn their sign language?”

He blinked, looking surprised as he turned over to me. “Oh, Dr. Carmine taught me. It was a long time ago now so I’m a little rough.” He laughed a little.

“The Carmine that Triel mentioned in her interview?” I remembered Triel and Shine sitting up, reading through the material Cahira had given to them. And how much Triel grumbled about reading about such an awful person. “How was she?”

“Right, yeah, the same Dr. Carmine.” He watched Shine for a little bit and then rested his head back down. “She was one of the people who would handle me once I was operational.” He smiled fondly. “She was the only one who seemed to care if I was tired, hungry, in pain after an assignment instead of ignoring me until we got back to hand me over to the technicians. She was the only one who’d tell me I did a good job and bring something nice as a treat when I was done.” He sighed and his smile faded. “Then one day she was just…gone.”

Shine grimaced when they looked up and realized Richard was talking about Carmine. Yeah, she sounded so different from now. “Well, that sounds…nice. I’m glad she was nice to you.”

He nodded. “She was then. I don’t know what she’s like now.” He paused and stared up at the ceiling. “After I found out it was her who put Skyler through all that, I don’t know…” He paused again, looking back at us. “She doesn’t know I’m here, with Volt.”

Shine laughed a little and signed. “Hopefully, she will not figure it out after she finds the file missing.” They stopped working and sat back. “Could I look at the other arm?”

“Right.” Richard sat up and used a butterfly bandage over the wound. He cut his other arm, and I looked away again, shaking slightly, just remembering knives flashing toward me. Shit. I had to think of something else. Richard thought for a little bit and signed. “Even if she does figure it out, I don’t know what she would do about it. As far as I know, she doesn’t work with them anymore anyway.”

I nodded and spoke. “So, she didn’t seem to be one of those people who wouldn’t let someone they had control over escape?” I unconsciously rubbed my hands over my scars.

“I don’t think so. She never seemed to be the kind to obsess over power.” He winced as Shine did something. “She wasn’t like the others that leaned on force to control me anyway. She was stern and sometimes had high demands, but not outright cruel. Now that I think of it, she never even laid a hand on me to get me to comply.” He shook his head. “But no, to answer your question. And besides, I’m pretty sure she’s known for a long time Skyler’s with Volt and hasn’t made a move to get him back in ages.”

“That’s good.” I kept rubbing at my scars. Shine snapped at me to hand them another tool, and I shook myself out of my thoughts. “I mean, not actually good, but at least she isn’t trying to take you back.” I paused. “Not like Churi,” I mumbled. “He won’t stop until he gets me back.”

“You’ll just have to keep a step ahead of him then.” He looked me in the eyes. “I bet you’re smarter than he thinks you are. All he has to do is underestimate you, and you’ve won.”

I nodded and gave him a half-smile. That was kind of him, but I didn’t know if I was smarter than Churi thought I was. I wasn’t that smart. “Thanks.”

Shine nudged Richard to get his attention and started signing. “Want me to work on your legs at all? Or your eye next? I should be able to make your eye functional again. But for all the other large repairs, I do not have enough time to repair them. I will give you the blueprints so you can find someone else you trust to help repair.”

Richard sat up and signed awkwardly, trying not to move his arms very much. “Legs maybe if you’re up to it.”

Shine nodded. “And then I’ll work on your eye.”

“Perfect.” Richard put a bandage on his other arm and cut open his leg, which I still couldn’t watch. He texted instead. “You’re pretty good at this, especially for your first try.”

Shine texted back. “Thanks. I studied the blueprints, so I know how your machines are supposed to look. That helps a lot.” They waved for me to hand them a tool, and they got to work.

Richard laughed a little. “I don’t think I want to know how far off they look compared to what they’re supposed to.”

Shine laughed back. “It’s a mess, but it’s really not hard to fix. I had worse when Triel first got her airship. She didn’t have enough money, so her old captain let her have an old one of hers. Now, that took months.”

“You’re probably more than qualified then.” He nodded at them. “We were lucky enough that the ship Volt snagged had been well cared for before she took it.”

I grinned. That airship was awesome! “It’s beautiful!” I blurted out.

“Isn’t it?” He propped himself up to look over at me. “Volt’s pretty strict on upkeep and so far it’s been nothing but reliable for us.”

Oh shit. Skyler had told me not to mention what happened. I started flushing. Shit. “I’d…I’d love to fly in it sometime.” Shine looked up and cocked an eyebrow at me. They knew I was lying.

Richard grinned at me mischievously. Shit. Had he figured it out? “You must really want to with how red you’re getting.”

I curled up on myself, and my face grew hotter. “I just really love the idea of flying,” I mumbled.

“Looks like we’ll have to have a full day sometime if you still want to fight me too.” He lay down dramatically. “Though I might be out a little while.”

I relaxed a little when he didn’t push the airship subject, and I grinned. “Hey, I wanted to fight with a cut up leg, and…” Dramatic pause. “I failed. You rest as long as you need to, and I’ll wait.”

“Well,” He shot me a look and sounded exaggeratedly arrogant. “Even if your legs were fine I don’t expect you to win.”

I laughed. “Shine’s just helping you get closer to my level.” Shine shook their head and signed for the other leg.

“I see, maybe I’ll have a chance then with them on my side.” He nodded at Shine and bandaged up the first leg and cut into the other leg, and I had to look away again. “But I wouldn’t bet on it.” He blinked exaggeratedly, and it took me a second to realize he was trying to wink, but he had only one functioning eye, so it didn’t work as well. So, I just grinned back at him.

And just then, Volt walked up to the door and leaned against the frame. “What’s going on here?”

More heat rose to my cheeks as my mind flashed to the airship. Would Richard say anything? Shine looked over and grinned when they saw Volt, and they added her to the group message. “I’m working on Richard’s machines.”

Her eyes flickered over to Richard. “Is,” she looked between Shine and Richard. “Are you sure that’s safe?”

Richard shrugged. “So far so good.”

Shine was still grinning, probably the most I had seen them grin. “As safe as I can be. I’ve been able to fix the wear in his joints, so they shouldn’t bother him as much.”

She relaxed a little bit. “If it works then well done.” She sighed, long and deep. “Just be careful, okay?”

“When have I not?”

“In the time I’ve known you?” She raised her eyebrows, and I had to stop myself from snickering. For once, I wasn’t the one being chastised about being reckless. “More often than not.”

“And when has it worked out in our favor anyway?”

They had a point there. Richard seemed to agree because he looked over Shine’s shoulder and grinned. Volt’s expression didn’t change. “I can see why Triel wanted you on her crew.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” Then they switched to sign to Richard. “Could I see your eye now?”

He fixed up his leg and lay down so that Shine could get to it easily. And Shine wouldn’t be paying attention anymore. They had been the most excited about working on the eye.

Volt watched for a few seconds before turning to me, and I stiffened a little. “How did you get pulled into this?”

Good. I was almost worried she somehow knew about the airship. “I’m just manual labor. Shine decided that this would keep me from getting bored and doing something stupid. And they’re right.” I grinned. “I think I might have gotten Richard to agree to spar with me later.”

“Of course he did.” She shook her head, but she had a soft expression as she looked over to Richard. “You really are a pushover.” He just smiled back.

After a few hours, Shine finally finished the eye, and they sat back with a long sigh. They nodded and smiled at Richard, and they signed. “How are you feeling?”

He spelled it out. “Ow.” He shifted to get more comfortable. “But it should be alright. Thanks.”

Since they were done, I started gathering up their tools, so they didn’t have to do everything. They kept signing. “I am sorry. Thanks for letting me help.”

He smiled back, looking tired. “Don’t worry. The technicians were never so gentle.”

Shine bowed a little with a smile, handed the blueprints to Volt, and headed out, while I followed with the extra stuff they brought. I just walked beside them with a smile. Even though they looked tired, they were smiling. It had been a good day then.

[littlewritingrabbit]

Hello! I don't know if you take fanfic requests, but in case you do, may I rewuest Edward Stevens' reaction to Hamilton's death? I love your writing and Ned needs more love.

   Yell heah I can write requested things, thank you so much for this anon! You’re very right, Ned Stevens needs more attention, so here’s some angst...

A Helpful Instinct

Academics, Edward Stevens knew, frequently had lively debates about the nature of instinct. Where it came from, what purpose it served, to what extent things people did could be considered instincts. He’d heard the debates himself during his time as a professor at Kings College, ringing out from those high-ceilinged lecture halls like church-bells that called one to question, not to pray. That had been long ago though. In the interim, he had served as a doctor, then a diplomat, and now he was… not engaged in much. Oh sure, he reasoned, there was the upkeep of the house to see to, and the correspondence to engage with, the brief matters of political or medical importance that his expertise was wanted in, the teas, the dinners, the walks along the shores of St. Croix that lacked nostalgia almost entirely now that all the hurricane-induced wreckage had been cleaned up and built over with bright new buildings. There were things to do, but, he had to admit, they weren’t much after the busy life he had once led.

That was where the instinct came in. Perhaps it was because he was an eldest sibling, or perhaps he just needed something to explain it, but ever since his return from his diplomatic endeavors in Haiti, Stevens had felt incredibly restless. None of his occupations had felt purposeful. He had spent so long in the sole dedication of helping people that it seemed as if there was some imperative he wasn’t fulfilling now.

Stevens dropped a sugar cube into his tea and stirred it around. Someone knocked on his office door.

“Good morning,” he called without looking up, “Come on in!”

“Morning sir,” said the visitor, with a conspicuous lack of the usual ‘good,’ “I’ve a letter for you. The postman seemed rather anxious that you should have it as soon as possible.” It was one of the clerks that sometimes came to ask his advice. What was the lad’s name, Carlisle?

“Thank you Carlisle,” said Stevens, hoping desperately that that was, in fact, his name. The clerk gave no sign to the contrary. “If you have a question, I can certainly answer that before I get to the letter if you’d like,” he took the letter, looking over the clerk. Yes, this was Arthur Carlisle. He was the same rather mousey-looking one with the dark hair and upturned nose who had come to ask about the international impacts of American currency standardization last week. As far as Stevens could remember, the lad was quite clever.

A worried expression crossed Carlisle’s face like a shadow. “Perhaps you’d better read it sir, it’s from Mrs. Hamilton.”

Stevens looked down at the letter only then. It was indeed Eliza Hamilton’s writing. His mind went from she never writes me, to why, to God help you Alex are you well faster than the crease of a frown could form between his eyebrows. “Yes, er, thank you Carlisle, I will be with you in just a moment then.”

He reached for the letter-opener with hands as steady as only a physician trained with needles and scalpels could make them. He sliced through the envelope and unfolded the letter inside. His eyes read faster than his mind could make sense of what he was reading. He read it over again. Duel… ribs… internal bleeding… condolences… it couldn’t be true. Knowing his education as a physician, Eliza had done her best to describe the medical aspect of the tragedy. Perhaps she knew, Stevens thought bleakly, that he would be analyzing the description for days, trying to figure out if he could have done a better job of treating the gunshot wound than the doctors that were present. Unfortunately, this also meant that he understood right away exactly how much Alexander had been pained in the last hours of his life, such terrible, excruciating pain, he was given to understand, that men had compared it to hell-fire. He felt sick.

“Carlisle,” he managed to say, eyes still fixed on the letter, “Is there any chance you could come back another day?”

“Of… of course, sir,” said the clerk.

“My apologies,” said Stevens, “It’s simply… a friend of mine has had… has been… well, there’s been a tragedy. Thank you for seeing to it that I received this.” He managed to look up. Carlisle was, understandably, genuinely concerned-looking, so he attempted to nod reassuringly. Make sure nobody was in a panic. Send them away, if not contented, then at least calm. That was the sort of bedside manner they expected from you in his profession, and he’d be damned if he let that slip now.

“My condolences, sir,” said the clerk with a nod. Stevens stood and accompanied him to the door, gave his shoulder a friendly pat, and closed the door behind him. The second he was gone, Ned Stevens pressed his back to the door, and let his knees give out in a measured sort of way that let him slide into a sitting position.

Alexander was dead, and he’d never even had the chance to say goodbye. He hadn’t been there to help, hadn’t even been close enough to know that it had happened until this letter travelled all the way across the ocean and…

He should’ve been there. He had a responsibility, he thought, to help his family, and no matter if neither of them had ever really known if they had been related, Alexander was family in all the ways that counted. I should’ve been there, he wanted to cry, I should’ve helped! It’s my job, as a physician, and a friend, and hell, maybe even a brother, to be there for those I love, and I wasn’t! He rested his head on his hands, his hands against his knees, his entire lanky frame curled in on itself with those characteristic auburn curls falling in a mess over his shoulder.

He had been there, he remembered, to help the angry red-headed newcomer to his household bandage his knees after tree-climbing accidents, sitting on the table in the kitchen with his trousers rolled up. He had been there to tend to mysterious black-eyes and bruised knuckles while Alexander swore he hadn’t been trading anything with the pirate crews that somehow managed to find places to sell their goods on St. Croix. He had even been there as Alexander and Eliza sweated and coughed their way through a nasty bout of yellow fever in Philadelphia.

And then, when Alex had needed him most, he had been oceans away.

Ned Stevens knew, on some level, that he could hardly blame himself for Alexander Hamilton’s death. But wasn’t it easier than facing the fact that it might well have been inevitable? He hated the thought that anyone had to suffer and die, least of all someone as close to him as the man who was, at best, his dear childhood friend, and at worst, his bastard half-brother. If God had simply decided to take Alexander from the world without another chance, how could that possibly be fair, or just, or good?

He was going to have to get up, he reasoned. He was going to have to tell Hester, and then the clerks, and eventually, probably the papers. He could hardly hold all this hurt inside himself, even if he wanted to protect everyone else from it.

Ned Stevens stood, gathered up the letter with hands forced steady, and wiped his tears with a gaudily lacy handkerchief. Alex, wherever you are, he thought, I hope you are no longer in pain. I shall miss you terribly, little brother. He crossed the room, took a deep breath, and opened the door.

[steamy-linguine]

Two Shots. (Gavin Reed x Reader)

A/N: I had started this earlier this week but I’m sick as hell so it took a minute to write. Debating doing a second part because I really enjoyed writing this but hey. Let me know what you guys think. I also read somewhere someone put that the flashbacks were in italics which is smart cause I know that can be confusing so the flashbacks are in italics lmao

Warnings: Gun violence, Cursing, and some blood.

“Don’t die on me…Please…” Gavin begged your unconscious body.

You laid in the hospital bed, eyes closed with small breathes escaping past your parted lips. Gavin sat at your bedside with red eyes from the tears and bags underneath them from the exhaustion and stress.

“I’ll go in first and I want you to stay behind me.” Gavin told you sounding serious but it was Gavin. The typical DPD asshole.

You rolled your eyes, “Gavin kiss my ass your not gonna get to take all the credit like you did me last time.”

“(Y/N) I’m serious. This could be dangerous you’ve seen the fuckin’ record on this guy.” Gavin said to you. 

“Why didn’t you just listen to me for once?” He said putting his head into his hands as the events of the last few hours began to replay in his head and he fought back the tears again.

“Count of three I’ll kick down the door.” He said to you and you nodded at him as you took a few steps back, your gun in your hand already aimed and your fingers on the trigger ready to shoot if need be. 

“1…2…3!”

In one swift move Gavin kicked down the large door. You both rushed inside, guns pointed in each direction possible. The apartment was a lot bigger than what you both had expected but the upkeep of the place was a mess. The couch was turned over, pictures torn from the walls, and shattered glass everywhere. You lowered your gun and let out a sigh, “Gav I don’t think he’s here. It looks like nobody has been here for weeks.“

Suddenly you heard the sound of a door slamming and you both turned around quickly but not in time. The suspect stood there gun raised high in his hand, already aimed at Gavin and before you knew it he pulled the trigger. It seemed as if time slowed down in that moment and you knew the bullet would hit Gavin and you had to save your partner. 

So without any hesitation you shoved him out of the way.

Gavin stood there eyes closed for a moment, awaiting for the bullet to pierce him. He quickly opened his eyes and noticed he had not been shot but saw you laying on the ground bleeding out.

Another sound of the barrel went off and the bullet whizzed by him barely missing him and he quickly aimed his gun and fired, the bullet entering between the man’s eyes and his body quickly collapsed to the ground. Gavin quickly dropped down to the ground pulling you into his lap, “(Y/N) no! Why the fuck did you do that?!”

You stared up at him trying to breathe steadily but your heart was pounding in your ears and tears welled up in your eyes from the pain. You looked down at yourself seeing the blood stain yours and his shirt and you looked but up to him, “I-I’m ruining your favorite shirt…”

“(Y/N) stop talking! Just h-hold on!” Gavin pleaded as he pulled out his phone calling for an ambulance and letting them know an officer had been shot. He looked back down at you pressing a shaky hand against your new wound and you winced in pain from the sudden pressure. “Shit I’m sorry but I-I gotta stop it…I-I have to-“

“I’ll be okay…I-I’ll be…” You said as your breaths seem to become a little slower and the darkness enveloped you.

“No…no no no stay awake! Keep your damn eyes open!” Gavin begged.

“You should’ve just let me take the shot.” Gavin’s voice was shaky along with his hands as they ran through his hair, his foot tapping against the hospital floor uncontrollably. 

“Will they be okay?!” Gavin asked the paramedics as they rushed your body inside.

“Sir you need to step back!” The nurse quickly stepped within his line of sight of you.

His shirt was still covered in your blood but it was dry now. His hands now holding his head as he swam through his thoughts wondering if you’d ever wake up anytime soon to tell him to stop worrying. “I’m sorry…I’m sorry I was such…” He started to say but took a deep breath and raised his head to look at you yet again. 

“I’m sorry I was such a fucking asshole to you. You didn’t deserve it. Any of it and your the best damn detective I know and I-I need you to wake up!” He said the last words coming out a bit more frustrated as he stared at you. If anybody was there to see Gavin having a complete melt down they would’ve thought that they were dreaming. Gavin was a cold hard asshole and nobody had ever seen him show any other emotions. No one except you.

After all you two were close. Despite his ways, you never took the shit from him and you were the first to ever give it right back to him. 

“You let them get away!” Gavin yelled at while you both stood in the alley watching the suspect leave with two others that had joined him in the middle of the chase.

You turned around and frowned at him, “I just saved your ass and mine Gavin! Least you could do is say thank you!”

“Saved my ass? Yeah well when Fowler starts yelling’ at us let me know if you think you still made the right choice because I had them.” 

You took a step closer to him this time, “You’re seriously that fucking determined about a case that you’d put us in the risk of getting killed? I made the right choice. You just don’t want Fowler to yell at you again and call you a fuck up. Well news flash Gavin, you are one so get over it.”

His face twisted into anger and this time he got in your face.

“Fuck you (y/n).”

“Yeah whatever go fuck yourself Reed. Call me when you wanna thank me.” You said to him before flipping him off and limping away from your hurt leg. Gavin stood in the alley watching you walk off and seeing you struggle to stand did something inside of him but he instead let you go.

After that incident you two had refused to speak to each other for a good week before another case emerged making you have no choice but to work with the grouch but nonetheless he told you he was sorry in the most Gavin way possible.

“I’m sorry.” He blurted out and you looked at him. He kept his eyes on the road as he continued to drive down the long road and you turned your attention back out of the window. 

“It’s fine.”

“Aren’t you gonna say sorry?”

You turned to look at him again, a puzzled look on your face, “For what?”

“For fucking up our case.” He said a small smirk on his face. “Yet again go fuck yourself Reed.” You replied and turned to the window to hide your small as you watched the trees zoom by.

“It should’ve been me to get shot.” Gavin said.

You two grew to become close friends and although everyone in the office suspected there something going there was something going on between the both of you, there was nothing. Chris would tease you both and Gavin would rolls his eyes muttering a fuck off under his breathe and you would pretend to gag. You’d tell him to be quiet with a chuckle and walk off to go do yet another chase on someone with your partner. Although you would deny the rumors and flip off your coworkers at the constant teasing, Gavin had wanted there to be more between you two. 

He knew he loved you after taking the time to get to know you. You both going out for drinks and sometimes he’d show up at your place with your favorite take out and beer and after sharing old stories and laughter you’d always fall asleep while leaned against him and he’d take the time to study your features while he’d let his fingers run through your hair, he knew in that moment he loved you but he also knew your feelings for him were not the same so instead of confessing he kept it to himself and enjoyed having you the only way you’d let him.

As a partner but more so as his friend.

“Fuck..” He murmured to himself as he sat back, letting his head fall backward and his hand flew to his eyes as he rubbed them. The room was silent again as he sniffled and wiped away his tears. He sat back in his chair, closing his eyes and let out a sigh, letting himself listen to the beeping from the machine that was set on the other side of you.

 “Are you crying?” You managed to croak out and Gavin shot forward in his chair.

“(Y/N)!” He said relieved to see your eyes open. “Yeah…The fuck happened?” You asked as you tried to push yourself up, wincing in the process from the sudden pain.

“You took a bullet for me and I thought-God dammit why did you do that?! You could’ve fucking died!” He stated sounding more angry in his tone than sadness like before. You blinked at him as you recalled the events before you passed out. “I did it because you’re best friend Gavin. I know you would’ve done it for me.” You said. Gavin let out a shaky breathe as he ran his fingers through his hair. 

You have no fucking idea what I would do for you. He thought to himself as he kept his eyes locked on your half lidded ones. 

He scratched the back of his neck, “Just don’t do that shit again. You scared the fuck out of me.” 

You nodded, “Trust me dipshit I’m not. It fucking hurt too much.”

“I’m sure it did dumbass.” He said. His old self seeming to come back and you chuckled at him, grabbing your side from the pain. He watched you grab onto yourself and he tried to get close but you shook your head and told him you were fine.

“Want me to shoot you? We can both be in the beds in the same room.” You said with a goofy grin on your face.

He shook his head and let out a small laugh, “In your fucking dreams doll.”

You smiled at him and slumped back into the pillows feeling more comfortable in your new position than the previous. “Gav?” You called for him. “Yeah?” He answered as he moved the chair to be closer to your bedside. 

You reached out and grabbed his large hand, rubbing a thumb over the knuckles, “I love you.”

The shock hit him when you said this, making his heart flutter in his chest but his subconscious reminded him it wasn’t in the same way he wanted but either way he was glad you were awake and talking an with that alone made him smile again.

“I love you too.”

“Gav?” You called for him again.

“Yes?”

“You cry like a girl.” You told him trying to relieve some stress by joking around with him like you usually did.

“Go fuck yourself (L/N).” He said making you smile.

[what-even-is-thiss]

Vampire AU, In the Castle.

So short little thingamabob based off of this drawing because I have no self control.

Warnings: Blood mention. Death mention.

“It’s probably haunted.” Virgil said, fumbling with the map.

“How many times do I have to tell you, there’s nothing supernatural about any of this?” Logan said snatching the map from him and adjusting his wire rimmed glasses to get a better look at it.

Virgil pulled his brother out of the way of a fairy circle as he was engrossed I The map.

“Watch it! Don’t you know what would happen if you step in that?” Virgil said.

Logan shrugged Virgil off. Both of them fought off the the old argument that had been going on since Logan had been old enough to talk.

The two American boys kept walking through the Irish farms and eventually to hillsides. The fog was thick in the early summer morning and neither of them would usually be awake at this hour but jet lag was a bitch and they did come here for one main reason, and despite their differences neither of them liked putting things off very much.

Their backpacks began to feel heavy as they realized it was going to be a longer walk than they originally thought.

“I can’t stand hills.” Logan grumbled, sitting heavily on a stone.

Virgil fought back the urge to tell him not to do that and began to look east, trying to find the sunrise. The clouds seemed to be in the mood to obstruct his vision.

“Something isn’t right.” Virgil said.

“You always insist that and you’re rarely right.” Logan said, getting up and stretching. “Come on. Couple more kilometers. Maybe I can take these hills.”

Virgil reshouldered his backpack and scoffed. “You’re eighteen. Shouldn’t you be better at walking than this?”

“You’re twenty. Shouldn’t you be over your teenage angst by now?”

“Touché.”

They continued walking. The morning smelled cold and brisk. Logan avoided a fairy circle to ease Virgil’s mind. Logan was younger, slightly shorter, and skinnier than his brother and didn’t seem to be built for hill climbing at all. He continued to talk through his pain anyways.

“Castles are cheap, you know.” Logan huffed. “In some places they’ll just give you one for free if you’ll take care of the upkeep. This place probably isn’t anything.”

“So you say, pocket protector.” Virgil said.

“I do say. What makes you think that this place is even connected to our family history at all? Dad made up improbable stories all the time.”

“I know, but... I’ve got a feeling he’s right. Now that I look at it.” Virgil said, pointing.

Logan took off his glasses to see what his emo older brother was pointing to in the distance. It was a castle ruin, just like in the picture from Google. Most of it was just an outline of a structure with a destroyed wall here or there. One part of it was still standing solidly. A tower with a guard post and a wall attatched to it. Like most castles, it was on an easily defendable hill. An otherwise unremarkable, totally normal ruin.

So why did he feel like he knew this place in particular?

Virgil patted Logan on the back, indicating to him that he’d like to move. Logan replaced his glasses and Virgil halfway zipped up his distressed black hoodie for comfort. Logan suddenly remembered the old family rumors and realized that Virgil probably believed them.

“You don’t actually believe the thing about the fairies or the ghost, do you?” Logan asked.

Virgil looked at the old structure. “I don’t know. They say there’s been something near here since before the English f*cked it up. It wakes up sometimes, adjusts, changes, and then goes back here.”

“Virgil, surely you don’t believe that. Even if the supernatural did happen, which it doesn’t, there’s no record of that story anywhere outside of dad’s family. None. It doesn’t exist. They can’t even agree on what it was.”

They reached the outline of the ruined building and Logan sat down, exhausted. Virgil wasn’t impressively built by any means, but he tended to work out at least a little bit to relieve stress. He went on what he called “anxiety runs” almost every day, so he still had some energy. He jumped over the remains of the wall and started looking around while Logan rested.

Something felt odd here. He tried to make some conversation to keep his mind off of it.

“So, pretending you did believe there’s something here, what would you think it was? Fairy? Old god? Ghosts?” Virgil said.

“You know, I don’t know why, but I’m leaning towards vampire. You don’t often hear about Irish vampires though, do you?” Logan said, taking a juice box out of his bag.

“I was... thinking vampire too.” Virgil said.

Virgil heard a loud swallow of water and Logan getting up.

“You know, if I didn’t know any better I’d say it feels like there’s something,AAHHH!”

Virgil spun around in a panic. There was a hole in the ground now and Logan wasn’t there. He ran over to it. Rotten boards. A wooden section of the floor rotten away or exposed by rocks going missing. Logan had fallen right through.

“Logan!” Virgil screamed.

“I’m alright! Breathe!” Logan yelled back. “Virgil?”

Virgil sat back and clutched at his chest, trying to breathe. His mind was spinning and it suddenly felt like he was going to burst out into tears.

“Virgil? Virgil, are you having an anxiety attack? I’m alright! Breathe!”

Logan looked back up at the hole he had fallen through. It was just at the right height that he wasn’t seriously injured but it seemed impossible to climb out of. The splintered, rotten wood had scattered all around the dungeon like space he had found himself in.

“Virgil?” He cried again.

“Ye-yeah. You’re alright?” Came a deep shaky voice that sounded like it was swallowing back tears.

“Yes, I am. Promise. I see a gate and I think it leads to the tower. Can you see if it opens from the other side?”

“I’m on it. I’m coming.” Virgil’s voice said.

Logan looked behind himself and jumped. There was a coffin made of stone and carved with something in old English. He could tell it was old English because he understood nothing it said, but it certainly wasn’t Gailic.

Why did the light from the hole up there look like that? It’s morning.

He heard a clang at the gate in the corner and then ran to it. Virgil was jiggling a key into a lock. When he got it open Logan let him hold him in an embrace for a few moments.

“Oh, it took me hours to figure it out and find a key. There is no cell reception here. I am so sorry.” Virgil said, relief flooding his voice.

“Hours?” Logan asked, pulling away. “I’ve been down here maybe ten minutes.”

“But it’s noon. You fell in around eight in the morning.” Virgil said, puzzled. “Wait a second. What happened to the light?”

Logan turned on the flashlight on his keychain and then pulled out his phone to check the time. 11:59pm, or 23:59.

“What the Hell?” Virgil said, looking over Logan’s shoulder. “Oh, crap. Did we fall into a fairy den or something?”

“There is no supernatural force here.” Logan insisted.

“Then explain that.” Virgil said, pointing to the hole, which clearly showed it was now nighttime outside.

Logan was about to retort when they both heard the sound of stone scraping on stone.

“Oh, I do not like being wrong.” Logan sighed as he saw a white hand peek out of the stone coffin to push the lid aside.

Virgil put his arm protectively around Logan’s shoulders like he did when they were kids and Logan forgot all of his grown-up dignity for a moment and leaned into it as they both backed away slowly.

As soon as the lid fell off, a figure slowly sat upright in the coffin and stretched luxuriously. It was a young looking man with the family nose and light brown hair similar to Logan’s. Wearing a formal white and red outfit that was surprisingly 17th century. He yawned very loudly, happily turning the yawn into a series of musical notes halfway through. Then he jumped out of the coffin and studied the two young men cowering in the corner.

“Good evening, my lords. Have a long day?” He said in the most formal sounding Irish accent they’d ever heard. “What’s the year if you don’t mind?”

He smiled charmingly, revealing a set of fangs.

Logan swears he didn’t faint for a second. That most definitely did not happen.

...

To be continued possibly?

[ghostwriter26-blog]

Chapter One

“Christian... Alex!!” I yell at the top of my lungs at 7 o’clock in the morning. “Stop fighting with each other it’s too early for this crap, and I still have to get ready for work.” I would’ve never imagined having twins could be so hard. I swear sometimes I want to rip my hair out by the root. As painful as that sounds I have my dignity, sanity, and great hair to upkeep 

A slight smile creeps up on my face and I can feel my cheeks slowing turning pink as I seem to be amusing myself. “What are you smiling at mom?” My eyes dart over sharply to christian and I roll them, sort of like a teenager getting caught telling a private joke. “Chrissy you have to get ready for school, please hurry up with breakfast because I am not taking you to today.” He looks annoyed but at the moment I don’t care. “Jesus mom I told you to please stop calling me Chrissy, I’m practically a man now.” I burst out into laughter while sipping my coffee spewing it’s hot deliciousness all over my hand as I try to cover my mouth. “You’re fourteen Chris, I don’t think that’s quite old enough to be considered a man yet.” I couldn’t help but notice Alex was so invested in her phone this early in the morning “Right Alex?... Alex?” No response- someone call 911 I think my daughters been virtually kidnapped and I’m never going to see her again “Alex Marie Hernandez.....I’m talking to you.” She suddenly snaps out of her trance and laughs, her bouncing brunette curls falling away from her face as she lifts her head. “For real bud you’re not a man... but this guy is” she claims while turning her phone screen to him.

I couldn’t help but suppress the joy that filled me to know my daughter was still paying attention. I smiled while rinsing the coffee from my hand. “Now that is A MAN” I say with way too much enthusiasm. It’s obvious I haven’t had sex in months. “Really mom, I thought you hated Chris Hemsworth?” my face is suddenly cool and I feel all color drain from it. Not sure why I feel like I've been caught red handed but I change the subject. “Come on guys go finish getting ready and please don’t leave a mess, you know how much your dad hates messes.” The two of them get up leaving their plates at the table of course, and race each other to the upstairs bathroom.

I begin clearing the table when I hear vibrating. At first I thought nothing of it, but it continued a few more times. I then realize it’s a cell phone, my cell phone to be exact. I scramble around looking for it frantically thinking somethings wrong with my own mother or father. Of course I find it too late. When I open it there are three missed calls from an unknown number. I shrug it off and continue my morning routine of cleaning, and making sure the house in straightened up before I get ready for work. Thank god I don’t have to be at work until ten. The beauty of owning my own salon. I could pop in and out when I like. Although I’m usually there all day because everyone knows it’s hard to trust people with your baby. By baby I mean business but I’m sure you already got that.

[thegrapplingminstrel]

The Last Garuda

Humanity haven’t fought amongst themselves for almost half a century by now. When the Mythos descended upon the planet, all lines that divided mankind seemed to vanish before a common enemy. That was the case when Axis forces raged across Europe, so it only made sense that it was also the way of things when invaders from the skies decided to try and take away the world.

Years after what came to be called the Mythos war, man once again proved that history has a penchant of being repetitive, just as the eastern turned against the western block, so too did the last three Bastions of Humanity. Across the blue earth, men fought over what was left of their sunken planet. The three Bastions of course refused to wage open warfare, thus little proxy wars were made, using freelancers to claim riches from under the waves.

The Java Sea, being the halfway point between two of the last three bastions of humanity, had been fought over by freelancers for months, each one paying allegiance to either New Babylon or the Dragon’s Garden. It was a war in all but name, but countries do love being diplomatic. One of these freelancers were the Hussars, notorious for their aggressive tactics and a success rate fitting of their legendary namesake. On the third week of August, they went to battle once again.

---

The first shot of the battle came from the Syahbandar stationed above the sunken ruin of Bandung, once a backwater mountain city far from the coasts. The shot landed on the water, as it always does, since the damn thing covers up nine-tenth of the planet nowadays.  Even from this far out, Johnny Sunday can see the hulking marine gun-platform glistening under the sun, its large barrels aimed in his general direction. The machine was made to act as a mobile naval fortress and it looked the part.

“Johnny sees the target,” he half-yelled into his radio as he zoomed past the water plume, his mark 2 AEGIS (lovingly named Mary, after his mom) began to rattle due to the speed he’s forcing on it, but good old Mary would hold, like its namesake, she was one tough dame. “Permission to fire hull-buster missiles, boss?” “That’s a negative Heartbreaker,” came the cold reply from the other end of the radio. “Disable their guns, the boarding squadron will take care of the rest.”

Great, Johnny thought to himself, the boss wants him to do this the hard way. If he pulls this off, he looks like a rock star, if he doesn’t, he dies. Not the worst deal he ever had, if he was being honest.

From on high he can see the wall of flak incoming, blotting out the sky with thick dark clouds. It was a primitive weapon, made over a hundred years ago before the continents sank, but high velocity shells and shrapnel have a way of never going out of style.

“If Johnny dies today, tell his mama he loves her!” he said for what must have been the fiftieth time this year alone, he was sure they were sick of hearing him say it by now. His mech dived lower, cutting to the right side of the enemy vessel. He felt his stomach churn, you can get used to G-force, but you’ll never be immune to it. Right before his mech touched the water, he pulled up and levelled himself with the surface, too low for the Flak to target, just right for the rest of the enemy guns. Their first volley of armour piercing shell missed him by at least ten meter, the second one by three at most, and before they reloaded for the third, he was upon them, his heart pounding in his chest so hard he thought it was going to kill him.

The Syahbandar had four gun emplacement and one main cannon, four targets, and Johnny was going too fast to get a second shot on each.  He glanced at each one, letting the ocular targeting system get a lock on each, but that satisfying chime that signalled a lock-on never came, so he fired on instinct, letting loose a volley of rockets at each gun.

He couldn’t see the explosion, he couldn’t even hear them; within a few seconds he had already gone well past the enemy ship.

“Did Johnny get ‘em boss?” he asked, finally slowing down enough to make a turn.

“You got the AA guns,” came the reply. “The boarding squad will take over from here.”

---

It was hard to not be wistful sometimes when you’re fighting close to home. Bima had a girlfriend in Bandung once, so he used to visit the little mountain town on weekends (most Jakartans did). She had pale white skin and long dark hair, a Sundanese maiden through and through. They broke up long before he went into project Noah’s stasis pod, he wondered if she died in the city below them. Did she marry before the Mythos struck? Did she remember him, even?

"Heartbreaker took out the AA gun," said a voice from the radio, taking Bima out of his reverie. "Boarding team, prepare for deployment."

The shuttle jerked under him and floated upwards. He still couldn’t get used to how quiet it is, the new generation of aircraft had no rotors, no turbine. Their engineer Shannon tried to explain how they worked to him, but it was all gibberish and he had long since stopped trying to understand the tech around him.

“Three hundred meters to target,” he heard the squad leader said from the other side of the passenger bay. It was odd to him seeing a woman lead a team of men in battle, but the mechanized infantry armour of the day meant physical strength of a soldier meant little, and she was a better shot than anyone else they had.

“Old man, tell us about this city,” she added. She doesn’t look any older than him, but technically he WAS about a hundred years old.

“It was a lake once,” he said

“What’s a lake?” a teammate asked.

Before he could find a good answer, the red light by the shuttle door flashed. It was time to work.

He didn’t wait for the lines to drop, every second counted. They had covering fire from the mini-gun slung under their shuttle, but it had only so many bullets it could fire before reloading, once the hail was gone, anyone dropping onto the deck would be target practice for its defenders. The others were too heavy to jump down, but he wasn’t wearing a mechanized armour, he can jump down just fine.

His knees buckled hard as he landed, adrenaline kept him focused, but he knew tomorrow was going to be painful.  “Going in,” he said to his com. The hail stopped, and for a moment, everything was silent save the buzzing noise in his ear. He aimed his rifle, larger but lighter than what he was used to in his previous life, towards the exit hatch from which the defenders would come out. A lone sentry popped out of it, Bima caught him in the centre of his chest once, then another time on the chin, he wasted two more bullets which strayed wildly, but it didn’t matter, the man fell dead. He kept firing, buying time for his squad as they slid down the line from the shuttle onto the enemy vessel.

Once the entire squad has gathered, the battle became a grind. Boarding a ship was bloody work, the narrow corridors making each encounter a personal, up close affair. They tossed grenades around every corner, then Bima would go in for the kill. Sometimes they were already down when he went in, other times he had to cut them down with his knife. It was an archaic weapon used by the earliest human tribes and modern men alike, no one used them in the Mythos war due to the size of the alien invaders, but these were men and a knife works on them just fine as long as he got them through the visor. His enemies were hardened veterans of a very different war from what he was used to. Killing another man was new to them, it was second nature to him.

‘Onwards without fear,’ He repeated under his breath with each new corridor they took, until at last they reached the bridge. It was locked from within, so was the engine room and the cargo hull.

“Ship secured” he said into his comm.

---

As a commander, the mercenary leader known only as Nero never had to step into the battlefield. He was the man who moved the chess pieces from afar, and he was good at it, but he wanted to see with his own eyes what was on the cargo hull. It was more than just easy money to pay his men and upkeep his little army, it was more than that. All the literature he devoured as a child spoke of how the object was a turning point in human history once, it will be so once more.

By the time he was on-deck, the boarding party had pinned the remaining enemy combatants down. They called for an unconditional surrender and Nero agreed. He lied. The moment every one of them were on deck, he gave the order to gun them down. They were loose-ends, he doesn’t like those.

“You disagree with what we’ve done, Bima?” he asked his escort as they descended into the cargo hull. The man was an antediluvian, born before the flood, so he stood heads and shoulders above him.

“They surrendered, sir,” the soldier said. “They’re prisoners of war.”

“I am well aware of what the Geneva Convention said,” Nero said without a hint of regret. “But Switzerland is gone, and so has every other country that signed that treaty.”

Bima was a good soldier. Nero had no doubt the man would follow orders, but like every other antediluvians he knew, he had much to learn about the new blue world.

As they reached the cargo hull, they were greeted by three other soldiers from the boarding crew. They had ransacked the room, breaking open all containers stored within. Most of them had useless relics in them, statues, intact pre-flood machineries wanted only by collectors, none of them worth his time. What they were looking for was something much more important.

The object was kept in a metal crate, waterproof and airtight. It was a tool of war from a time long gone, dangerous exactly because of how primitive it was. “Is that it?” he asked Bima. The man stepped forth to inspect the marking on the crate, recognition clearly written across his face. To the old world, the mark upon the crate was one associated with nothing but fear and death.

“Yes, that’s it,” he said.

“That’s the nuke.”