#NO ONE SHIPS HER WITH SILAS

[muirneach]

mom told me just now that i should maybe pursue art 😑 girl dont remind me that its secretly my dream to live that hashtag aesthetic artist who sells prints and can live off that full time and own a house like…. sigh idk i dont want to be defeatist like ill never know unless i try and i do plan on trying and maintaining a small art career. hashtag side hustle small business. but like unless i somehow get a gazillion sales we have to be realistic and understand its not that feasible. doesnt mean i dont want it tho….

[darkbluekies]

GOLDEN TRIAL

Yandere!mafia x yandere!female!mafia x female!yandere x yandere!king x yandere!doctor x male!detective!reader

Summary: Its 1935 and you've been sent on the Liner Normandie to retrieve a stolen painting. You have six suspects and the clock is ticking — you only have four days before the ship reaches New York to find it. But soon, you find yourself caught up in something even more serious than you could have believed.

Warnings: getting hit in the head with a bottle, kidnapping, mentions of drugging, stalker behavior, light misogyny(?), guns, needles, violence

Word count: 11.7k

DAY 1 — Debark

The ship towers over you like a mad giant. Gray smoke rises from the two forward funnels. It’s the biggest in the world, bigger than any man made object that can float. You shake your head. Focus. You’re not here for pleasure. You continue your way over to the terminal. The agency sent you in hopes of finding the lost painting, no one else. You need to stay focused, they’re counting on you.

Without questioning, you give the fake ID to the man behind the desk. When you had started out as an agent, you were always nervous that your covers would be blown and you would be found out. Nowadays, you’ve noticed that if you look nervous, risk are that you’ll be asked questions. 

You walk over the gangway with your bag in hand. You have just above four days to find the painting — a very famous portrait of a woman with her head slightly turned to the viewer, wearing a big, blank pearl earring. It was stolen from the Mauritshuis in the Netherlands two weeks ago, and details have revealed that it has been taken to France, and will be moved to America on the SS Normandie. The painting itself isn’t insanely big, but the fuss about it’s disappearance is. You have to find it at all cost. 

Before you got here, you had time to take a look at the passenger list. There are six people you recognise, where of five could be your potential smugglers. 

Silas Achilleos, a mob boss wanted by the police, and his second in command. A man like him was probably not interested in paintings, but he could have clients who did. And those could pay him heaps of money. 

Edmund of Vesanus, a young king who likes the bachelor life. He surrounds himself with loads of women and alcohol, partying like nothing matters. He would take the painting because he doesn’t want anyone else to have it. He’s traveling with his doctor, a certain Karl Kry who you don’t know much about. 

Hedwig Carter, a young heiress who’s father is noble, and who's mother is famous in the acting business is traveling with a young woman named Jerry Kim, someone you guess is Hedwig’s chaperone. Hedwig is known for getting whatever she wants with a snap of her fingers, and if she wants a painting … she will get it. Jerry, however, does not have much information out in the open. Everything about her before she started to work for Hedwig is wiped away. You want to know who she is and where she comes from, and what she would want a painting for.

You walk down the stairs to your cabin on A-deck and start to pack up, using the second bed in the room to store your bag. After settling in, you decide to take a look around this magnificent vessel to get familiar with it. You make your way up to the promenade deck and give the open cinema by the stairs a quick look. You guess that they’re going to put on movies once the ship reaches open water. If you’re lucky you’ll see something interesting. And hopefully, you have the time to watch it. 

The promenade is enclosed decorated with a gray floor, comfortable deck chairs and clear windows. A line in the tricolor fashion runs along the floor, as if to show where to walk. You walk on the line, flashing a little childish smile. You’ve left Le Havre and are on your way out towards the Atlantic’s open arms. The clock is ticking. 

Your eyes lock onto someone walking towards you and you immediately realize that it is Hedwig and her chaperone, an east asian girl … wearing pants and a long sleeved shirt. You don’t realize how obvious it is that you’re staring until the woman opens her mouth and you realize that they’ve stopped right in front of you. 

“What are you staring at, sir?” she asks, raising her eyebrows and putting her hands in her pockets. “If you want to say something, do it.”

“No—no, sorry”, you say quickly, feeling your cheeks heat up. “I didn’t mean to stare.”

“Tell me, do you approve of women who wear pants?” 

It sure looks weird, but is it? When you think about it, aren't pants just pieces of the same fabric as skirts, just sewn differently?

“Uh, I … suppose so.”

To that, Jerry nods approvingly.

“I don’t see why only men should wear pants”, she says.

“Well, I don't feel comfortable wearing them”, Hedwig chuckles nervously and smiles softly. “But they fit you, Jerry. They really do.”

“You must be miss Carter”, you say, as if you don't know, and shake her hand. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“Nice to meet you too, please call me Hedwig! Who are you?” 

“I’m Axel Ainsworth, I'm in the art industry.”

Hedwig’s smile widens. “That is very interesting, I love art. Especially portraits. Capturing humanity’s differences and details are magical. Don’t you think so, Jerry?”

“I’m more for that new thing — surrealism, I think it’s called — where everything is here and there and weird to believe”, Jerry says, shrugging. “But portraits can be okay too, depending on what type.” 

Hedwig has turned her eyes to you, glued them onto you as if you are the only thing she could ever see. “Are you traveling alone, mister Ainsworth?” she asks. 

You have remembered your entire forged background and learned it skillfully. Even your fake name rolls off the tongue as smoothly as if it was your real name. You're traveling alone because you're on your way home to your fiancé from a business trip. 

“I see”, Hedwig smiles and turns to the woman next to her. “Let me introduce you to my chaperone, miss Jerry Kim. You're always welcome to sit with us during dinner. We'd be more than happy to accompany you.”

“I'm grateful to know that, miss.”

With that said, the two women walk away. You frown and sigh. Hedwig seems like a very sweet young woman, it’d be a shame if it was her who was the culprit. Her chaperone, on the other hand, gives you weird vibes. Something about the look in her eyes … as if she’s looking right through you, scanning you. 

You continue down the promenade until you turn into the Winter Garden, a half moon-shaped room full of plants and lamps and big, wide windows, overlooking the special shaped bow that has given Normandie the speed it has. Passengers have already started gathering in the Winter Garden to talk to friends and family and watch how Normandie makes her way out onto the Atlantic. None of them resembles the men you’re looking for. You continue your way through the ship, eventually finding yourself in the smoking room on the embarkment deck, where you had stepped onto the ship. You had only glanced at the room before, but now when you’re standing in the smoking room — and very well the lounge since they’re connected — you realize how stupid you must have been to miss it. There must be ten meters up to the ceiling, you think, and bigger than a concert hall. A long, grey staircase leads up to the outside deck. The art deco interior is modern and sleek, but the whip overall has a classic, conservative design that reminds you of the great liners of the old age. You sigh while thinking of the Mauretania and the Olympic, Britain's biggest rivals which now are laid up in Jarrowtown, side by side, ready to be scrapped. There’s something melancholy about it all, and at the same time something beautiful, starting as enemies and now ending it all under the same flag, together. 

You shake your head. Focus. Your eyes catch someone standing by the windows, someone very familiar. Silas and his right hand man. You move closer, trying to hear what they’re talking about.

“I’m not complaining, I just think that it is annoying that it has to take four days to get to America”, Silas mutters and takes a whiff off his cigar. 

“Any other ship would take double the time, sir”, his second in command says apologetically. “I doublechecked.”

“I don’t like being in one place for too long.”

“See it as a vacation. You’re deserving of it. Let’s enjoy some good food, alcohol and some company. It’ll do you good.”

“I don’t like to be in one place too long. Especially when we know that they're on board!”

You furrow your brows. Who?

“Nothing will happen.”

Silas hums and smokes again. You’ve stood by the windows a few meters away, pretending to be interested in the horizon. Silas turns his eyes to you. 

“You, sir”, he says, pointing at you with his cigar. 

You look away from the ocean. Both Silas and his second in command have turned to you, their dark eyes looking right at you. 

“Yes?” you ask. 

“Is it true that the Normandie keeps her speed?” Silas asks. “No matter the weather?”

“I believe so, sir.”

Silas nods in satisfaction. “Good.”

You decide to try to get some information out of him. You know who he is, but he doesn’t know who you are, doesn’t know that you’re out to get him. To him, you’re just another first class passenger. 

“Are you in a hurry?” you wonder. 

“You could say that”, Silas sighs and turns his eyes out the window again. 

You hold out your hand. “I’m Axel Ainsworth.”

Silas second in command gives him a short look before his boss shakes your hand. His grip is hard, firm. 

“You can call me Silas”, he says. “No need for a surname.” He takes another blow on the cigar. “What brings you out on the ocean like this?”

“I’ve been on a business trip, but now I’m going home to my fiancé”, you say, pretending to smile at the thought of your made up fiancé.

“What business are you in?”

“Art.”

Silas lifts one of black his eyebrows. “Art?”

His second in command straightens his back. 

“Yes, sir”, you say. 

“Are you a … painter?” Silas wonders. 

“God no, I can’t handle a brush even if my life depended on it. I’m an art trader, I help people sell their paintings for the right price.”

“I see. Well, one can’t do everything.” He blows a cloud of smoke. “Have you traveled on this ship before, Axel?”

“No, it’s my first time. But I’m not unfamiliar with the ocean, I used to travel a lot on the older ships in my younger days.”

“Then I suppose you have a favorite?”

You think for a second. “I did like that Cunarder, the Lusitania … such a shame Germany sunk it.”

“You never know which ships are safe or not, just look at that Titanic fiasco. They thought it was the safest ship afloat. Yeah, sure it was.” Silas shrugs. “Wouldn’t surprise if this peace of junk also sinks. Why wouldn’t it?”

“Well …”

Silas’s second in command taps him on the shoulder and whispers something in his ear. Silas frowns and nods before turning to you. 

“It was nice speaking with you, but I have some business to deal with”, he says shortly. 

“Have a good day”, you say. 

Silas nods politely and leaves. You follow him and his second in command with your eyes until they’ve left the smoking room. He was nicer than you had anticipated. 

Your next suspect, you find in the dining hall that evening. You’ve met up with Hedwig and Jerry in the reception. Hedwig is wearing a pink evening gown with pink gloves. Her honey blonde hair is curled and put up with hairpins. Jerry is wearing a dark purple, sleeveless dress, showing a couple tattoos. In her short, black hair, there’s a little decoration that reminds you of a flower. She's wearing dark lipstick, in contrast to Hedwig who wears a Hollywood red.

“They wouldn’t let me in unless I dressed ladylike”, she mutters. 

“I think that you look gorgeous, Jerry”, Hedwig smiles and takes her hand. 

“I guess that it isn’t that bad.”

“I like your tattoos”, you say. “Where did you get them from?”

“A tattoo artist, of course.” She then twists her arm to show something on the inner side of her bicep. “Okay, I made this one myself.”

You step closer, seeing a small heart tattooed on her arm. 

“That’s cute”, you smile. 

“Thank you”, Jerry smiles smugly. “Hurts like hell though.”

“I can imagine.”

The stewards allow you into the dining room and — for what feels like the thousand time today — you’re amazed by the interior. Silver walls with golden ceiling and art decor wherever you could see. In the middle of the long dining hall, there’s a gigantic, golden statue of a woman. 

Hedwig and Jerry leads you to a table and sit down. That’s when you see your last suspects. They’re walking through the dining hall, dressed in tuxedos. The king can’t be more than twenty years old. His doctor is a minimum of fifteen years older. 

“You son of a bitch”, he says suddenly and looks at the table you’re sitting at. “Hedwig?”

Hedwig’s eyes widen in shock.

“Edmund, what are you doing here?” she asks with a smile. “Sit with us, please.”

The king and his doctor sit down at your table. 

“Good evening”, the blonde doctor says and shakes yours and Jerry's hand before introducing himself. “I’m Doctor Kry.”

“Nice to meet you, I’m Axel Ainsworth”, you say. 

“This is king Edmund.”

You’re about to shake his hand, but Doctor Kry removes your hand. 

“I’m sorry, but he doesn’t shake people’s hands”, he whispers. 

“Oh, I see”, you say. 

The king gives you a bored look. 

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, your majesty”, you tell him politely. 

“How do you know Hedwig?” he asks shortly. “I haven’t seen you before.”

“We met today”, Hedwig smiles. “Axel, Edmund is my relative. It’s been months since we last saw each other.”

“I’ve told you to visit.”

“I know.”

“Are you that much of a hypochondriac that you need a doctor to accompany you while you’re traveling?” Jerry chuckles. 

“What are you doing here, Jerry?” Edmund mutters coldly. 

“She’s my chaperone”, Hedwig explains.

“Oh fuck me.”

“Your majesty, maybe you should think about your language”, Doctor Kry says. “We are around others.”

Edmund rolls his eyes before looking at you in a bored manner. 

“Tell me”, he says, “where do you come from, mister Ainsworth?”

You ramble your rehearsed background. Edmund nods along with you.

“I’ve always wanted to visit that place”, Doctor Kry says. “I’ve heard that it is a beautiful city.”

“It is”, you say. 

“And now you’re going to America”, Edmund says. “What were you doing in France?”

“I was on a business trip.”

“What type?”

It strikes you as odd. He doesn’t sound interested, but still he asks you curious questions. 

“I’m in the art business”, you say.

“What for?” Edmund wonders.

“Art is beautiful and should be getting what it is worth.”

“I like art”, Doctor Kry. “I would do anything to see the Mona Lisa.”

“Why didn’t you visit it when you were in France?” Hedwig wonders. 

“We didn’t have time … Edmund didn’t want to go there.”

“Why should I squash together with other people to see paintings?” Edmund scoffs. “If I want to see a painting, I get it for myself. That’s that.”

“But do you like art, your majesty?” you ask. 

“Everyone likes art”, Edmund replies nonchalantly. “That’s what gives life meaning.”

“Have you read a certain story, Edmund, called ‘The Picture of Dorian Gray’?” Jerry asks with a teasing smile. “Thought that it’d fit you.”

The story is about a man who wants nothing more than to remain youthful … to the point where he has a painting of himself where all of his sins can be seen. In the end, the picture is as gruesome as can be, but Dorian himself is as youthful as he started.

“Oh, shut up, Jerry”, Edmund mutters angrily. “One day, I’ll teach you manners, believe me.”

Jerry smirks. 

You eat dinner together with the young king and the doctor. Afterward, to soothe your aching stomach, the five of you walk up to the outside promenade deck to get some fresh air. You strut under the lifeboats, under the stars. Above you, a big luminous sign spells out the name 'NORMANDIE’, casting a soft light on you. Doctor Kry has lent his blazer to Hedwig, and you’ve tried to offer yours to Jerry who refused before you had the time to open your mouth.

“Ladies, I think it’s time for you to retreat”, Edmund says, sounding sweeter than before. “It’s starting to get late.”

“The evening is young”, Jerry insists. 

“I’m tired”, Hedwig yawns.  

“Jerry, be a good girl and bring Hedwig to your cabin”, Edmund grits. “Please. I’m not fighting with you again.”

Jerry rolls her eyes, removes the doctor’s blazer and tells you goodnight. Hedwig gives you and Edmund a hug. Her flowery perfume clogs up your nose, dulls your head for a moment. The three of you wish the girls a pleasant evening and continue walking. 

“Hedwig is a stupid girl”, Edmund says, strolling slowly. “One can’t help but want to take care of her.”

“She seems very sweet”, you admit. 

“She is. Just very naive. I’ve promised her father that I’m going to take care of her whenever I meet her.”

“Her chaperone is … interesting”, Doctor Kry remarks. 

“God, yes, I hate her!”

“What is it about her that you don’t like?” you ask curiously. 

“I do not like girls like her. Did you see her tattoos? She often walks around in man’s clothing and I don’t think it’s fitting for a woman — especially someone that is close to my relative. I don’t want her influencing Hedwig.”

“I don’t think you have to worry, your majesty”, Doctor Kry says calmly. “I think Hedwig is going to be okay.”

“If there’s one thing I’m glad for, it is that Hedwig is predictable.” He groans. “I need a cigar. Let’s go to the smoking room.” Edmund turns around to give you a look. “Axel, are you joining?” 

“I don’t know”, you reply. “It’s the first day, I’m still tired from embarking.”

“Don’t tell me that you’re going to bed now.” He looks at his expensive watch. “The clock is ten. Stay one hour.”

You give up and follow them to the smoking room. Maybe it is for the best. If you want to get close to them, you’ll need to spend as much time observing them as you can. 

Sitting with them in the smoking room, you find that Silas and his second in command aren't here among the other men. You frown, thinking that they would be here since they were earlier. 

When you’re allowed to leave, two hours later, your mind is fogged up by smoke and whiskey. You make your way through the empty corridors to your cabin, closing and locking it behind you. Tiredly, you sink down on your bed and sigh out. You have observed them, and talked with them the entire day, and yet you haven’t figured out who could be hiding the painting. They all seem interested in art. They all could have taken it. 

There's so many questions. What kind of doctor is Kry? Where did Jerry come from and why is there no information about her? Why would someone like Hedwig hire her as her chaperone? And who is that person that Silas doesn't want on board? Is there someone you haven't accounted for, someone else that can have stolen the painting?

You hide your face in your hands and groan. Three days left.

DAY 2 — Sea

You wake up early, get ready and head out into the corridor. You lock the cabin door behind you, feeling the handle to make sure that it is locked and make your way to the Winter Garden to have a cup of coffee. The large windows give you a wide view of the calm ocean. The sun rises up from the blue water in a magical sense that has you hypnotized. It's all so very quiet and relaxing.

After your cup of coffee, you stretch your muscles, and contemplate going down to the swimming pool to take a few laps, to warm up your muscles and clear your head for the day's work. You pay the purser and make your way down to the swimming pool on D deck. The tile walls are covered with art that reminds you of ancient Greece and the new, abstract type of paint. The pool itself was formed as a long rectangle with curved corners, green steel ladders, and a steep and a shallow part. Throughout the shallow part, there were thick, dull spikes, likely to stop children from going out into the deep end. 

Despite being the early hours of the first morning on board, someone is already in the water. Doctor Kry.

“Good morning”, he says. “You’re up early.”

“So are you”, you reply.

“I always need to clear my head before starting the day.”

“What about the king? Is he swimming too?”

“Don't kid around. He doesn’t wake up until nine. I wouldn’t be able to get him out of bed before that anyways. He’s a very deep sleeper and hates getting woken up.”

You feel your heart skip a beat. 

“Where do you have your cabin?” you ask. 

“On the promenade deck, one of the suites. A-54.”

Bingo. 

“Why do you ask?” Doctor Kry wonders.

“I was just thinking that since the king doesn't want to be disturbed, choosing the right cabin place is important.”

“Did we choose a good cabin then?”

You nod, despite not knowing a single thing about cabin placements. The only thing you're aware of is to be as far away from the noisy engine room as possible.

Perhaps if you asked the purser, you could get the number of the other cabins. He, if anyone, should have the passenger list. 

You glance back at Doctor Kry who's still hanging by the side of the pool. This is your time to investigate him. You slowly get into the water.

“Such a shame that you didn't get to visit the Mona Lisa”, you say as you start to swim. “It's a very pretty painting.”

“So I've heard”, Doctor Kry says slowly.

“My favorite painting is ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’, have you had the opportunity to see it?”

He's quiet for a second.

“I haven't”, he says, sounding low. “I guess that, an art trader like you, must be troubled by its disappearance.”

“Of course”, you answer.  

At this point, a detective and an art trader don't seem like different things, especially since both would be looking for the same thing.

“Can I ask you something?” you wonder.

“It depends”, Doctor Kry says. “Go ahead.”

“Forgive me for being nosy, but why doesn't his majesty like Jerry?”

“He is very old fashioned. He doesn't think that women should be dressed in pants or have tattoos. Edmund is very self centered, yes, but he's also very possessive of the ones he holds dear — example being miss Hedwig. As you may know, his parents were murdered by enemies to the monarchy and ever since, the only relatives that have been in his life have been Hedwig and her family. They're very close in age too — Hedwig being eighteen and Edmund nineteen — which has been a very important thing for him. He sees her as a friend, maybe his only friend. So having someone that could potentially blemish his friend and only family is a threat to Edmund.”

“Then why does Hedwig have Jerry?”

“I don't know. It could be because of a teenage revolt. Jerry is different to everything that Hedwig has ever known … and now that she's eighteen she might want to try something new.”

“Do you think that Edmund is worried about her? Because of Jerry?”

“I wouldn't say worried, because the only thing the king worries about is himself, but I think that there's something along those lines. I think that he sees Hedwig as an extended part of himself rather than her own person.”

You nod carefully.

“I wonder where Hedwig found Jerry”  you say. “How someone like her could get the job as Hedwig’s chaperone. Do you know where she comes from?”

Doctors Kry suddenly laughs.

“You ask an awful amount of questions this early in the morning”, he says and gets out of the water. “I'm sorry, I don't have more answers for you, Axel.”

You look up at him, where he stands on the tile floor. He looks down at you with a small smirk.

“You remind me of a little boy”, he says and lowers his eyes onto your physic. “You're awfully trained to be an art trader. One could think that you were an Olympian.”

“Shouldn't a doctor be pleased that I am taking care of myself?”

“I am. You look good, healthy.  Just found it humorous.” He wipes away a few drops of water trying to go into his blue eyes. “I suppose that I will see you later. Goodbye, Axel.”

“Goodbye.”

You decide to do a few more laps around the swimming pool before getting up and drying yourself. Tomorrow morning, you will sneak into Edmund’s and Doctor Kry’s cabin to see if the painting is in there. But for now, you need to go to the purser. 

You change into your suit. In the front pocket, you keep a little commonplace book to take notes. You  make your way back to the pursers office. The man behind the desk gives you a service smile and asks how he can help you. 

“Do you happen to have the passenger list?” you ask. “I would like to know where some people’s cabins are located.”

“What is your name?” the purser wonders. 

“Axel Ainsworth.”

“Who are you wanting to find?”

“Hedwig Carter and Silas Achilleos.”

The purser disappears into his office. You wait impatiently, suddenly feeling watched. Carefully, you glance over your shoulder, but the only ones in eyesight are two men who are conversing. The purser returns. You fish out your notebook, ready to note it down. 

“Miss Carter has cabin B-23 and Mister Achilleos has cabin A-11.”

You write it down. “Thank you.”

With that said, you leave to go to the staircase. You’re not sure where to go, so you decide to take a stroll down the enclosed promenade while thinking. Doctor Kry knows more, you think, but he doesn’t want to tell. 

You sit down on one of the deck chairs to write down what you have gotten to know, so that you won’t forget any important information. You write down the suspects' motives to steal the painting, Silas’s weird enemy, their relation to each other — which only connects Edmund, Kry, Jerry and Hedwig — as well as the answers that you have gotten from Doctor Kry earlier today. Who has the painting? Your first instinct says that Doctor Kry doesn’t have it, because he’s not interested in that painting. Had it been the Mona Lisa, things would have been different, but this painting doesn’t interest him. That doesn’t mean that the painting couldn’t be in his room, though, because Edmund could still want to have it. 

You stand up after a while and continue walking. Your eyes fixate on something in the distance. A woman dressed in pants talking to a man in a suit that seems to be hiding in the corner of the promenade. You frown. 

What does Jerry have to do with Silas's second in command? 

You want to move closer, but you don’t want to expose yourself. You’ll have to change the relations in your notes, because there’s clearly something more than you’ve been led to know. 

What if Jerry’s lack of background has something to do with the mafia? It would explain her tattoos … that or being a sailor. But because of what you've just witnessed you can most likely scratch the latter. A shiver runs down your spine. If Jerry is dangerous, then Hedwig could be too. You stop in your tracks. Hedwig? Really? Edmund said it himself, she's a stupid, naive girl. Could she be dangerous?

You walk up to the open deck in the stern of the first class accommodations where you find a few kids playing something reminding you of curling. You sit down on the zig-zag benches placed out on the deck and watch them. They notice you looking and ask you to join them, so you do. You decide that maybe you can pleasure yourself in a harmless children's game for a few minutes, and continue the mission after.

When lunchtime rolls around, you make your way down to the dining hall. It's emptier than yesterday evening. You find Silas and his second in command sit by a table. Silas notices you and waves you over. Your feet bring you to him.

“Sorry to cut our talk short yesterday, Axel”, he says politely and gesticulates at the chair in front of him. “Sit down. Let me buy you lunch.”

And so, he does. You sit down and try your best not to glance at the second in command who’s black eyes burn through you. Your stomach twists. 

You both get lamb, something you have eaten many times before. Still, it tastes better at sea.

“What did you say that you were here for again?” Silas asks suddenly as he’s cutting his meat.

His voice sounds different from yesterday. You clear your throat to make sure that your voice won’t shiver.

“I’ve been on a business trip”, you say. “And now I’m going home.”

“Yes, yes, I know that. What I mean is that you didn’t tell me why you were in France. What kind of business trip was it? What did you do? I know that you were there for art, but what do one do on an art business trip? You have to forgive me for being curious.”

“I was meeting some people from the Louvre.”

“I see. About what?”

“Art’s future, how to make sure they don’t break or smudge or get tainted by the sun. And how to protect them. You must have heard about ‘the girl with the pearl earrings’ missing?”

“Yes, of course. Isn’t it weird that someone would steal that painting? Why not a Monet painting? Or the Mona lisa?”

“I don’t know. Maybe taking one of them would be too big of a deal. Maybe the one taking the painting thought that since it isn’t one of the most cherished, they’d have an easier time taking it … that the commotion about it would die out sooner or later.”

“Perhaps.” 

You’ve noticed that you haven’t heard the second in command’s voice at all, beside the talk he had with Silas yesterday. He doesn’t speak to anyone else than Silas … and Jerry. You still don’t dare look at him, scared that he will see right through you and know that you’ve seen him talk to her. You wonder what they were talking about.

“Did you have a good time yesterday?” Silas asks.

“Yes, I did”, you reply.

“Did you meet someone?”

“No, I didn’t. I chit-chatted with some people here and there, but kept mostly to myself.”

“You do good in that. You never know who you can trust on a big ship as this. You never know who wants you good or not.”

“Why are you traveling, Silas?” you ask innocently. “You said that you were impatient to get to America. Is there a reason?”

“Of course. Everything has a reason. But I don’t think I can share that with you. At least I shouldn’t.”

“Why not?”

Silas turns his black eyes to you and smiles slightly. His hungry gaze makes you freeze. He had seemed so sweet yesterday, but you finally see a slice of what makes him so terrifying. 

“Because someone like you shouldn’t know that”, he smiles. 

“I understand”, you say and take a piece of food into your mouth, to avoid speaking further.

“You have to excuse my man here”, Silas says and nods at his second in command. “He’s the shy type. He goes wherever I go, so you have to get used to him.”

“Is he your bodyguard?” you wonder. 

“You could say that. But I’m always prepared in case someone wants to attack me.”

He opens his blazer, showing you a revolver tucked into the fabric. You have your own in your suitcase. Walking around with it feels too risky, but maybe you’ll have to go get it. In case anything happens.

After lunch, you’re left with a weird feeling in your stomach. You have talked with him for an hour, about everything between heaven and earth … and yet it feels like you have been having two conversations in one — one on the surface and one real. 

You walk to your cabin and press down the door handle and walk into the room. The first thing that strikes you as odd is that there’s a new smell in the air. A flowery scent. You can swear that you have felt it before. Without a second to waste, you open your bag and pick up your gun, putting it in your suit. Quickly, you turn around, realizing something. Didn’t you lock the door when you went out this morning?

That evening, you spend dinner with the two girls and stay in the smoking room with Edmund for what feels like an eternity. Edmund wants to play a deck of cards with you. He seems a bit more relaxed than yesterday and even smiles a bit. 

After your games against Edmund, you decide to retreat. You walk down the long, dimly lit corridor. The narrow spaces feel almost ominous at night time, although barely any daylight reaches here at daytime either. You glance over your shoulder every tenth step, hesitating, can't help but feel watched. Your hand reaches for your gun, but before you have time to get it, someone reaches up behind you and smashes something heavy in your head. Everything turns black.

DAY 3 — SEA

“He's waking up.”

Your eyes feel like lead, and your head is even heavier. It takes a few tries to open your eyes and when you finally manage to, you want nothing more than to close them again. For a few seconds, you wonder if you're dreaming. They're all here, looking down at you. You look around and notice that they've tied your hands and feet, and left you on the floor at the end of the bed, with your back against the footrest.

You catch a glimpse of the clock on the wall. Just a bit past one in the morning. The third day has begun. You have been blacked out for three hours.

Your head is pounding, making it hard to think clearly.

Jerry bends down, grabs your chin and turns your head back and forth to inspect the damage caused on your head.

“He'll live”, she says and gives your cheek a quick, but harsh, tap.

“Well, well, Y/N”, Silas says, smirking. “You're a bit nosy aren't you?”

The mention of your name causes you to twitch and widen your eyes. In your dulled stage, you wonder if you've heard wrong, but the smirk in their faces confirm that you have, indeed, not lost your hearing.

“So, you were the agent”, Silas continues and shrugs. “I gotta admit, I was hoping that it wasn't you.”

“You were smart-”, Doctor Kry starts. 

“But not smart enough”, Edmund cuts him off sharply with his arms crossed over his chest. “‘Art dealer’, yeah, sure. A detective dealing with art. That's not the same, Y/N, if you didn't know that.”

Silas picks up something from his pocket, a small commonplace book. 

“‘Suspects are all interested in art, could be any of them’”, he reads out loud. “‘J involved with S? Talked with SIC.’ Jerry? Involved with me? Talked with my second in command? You seem to have it all written down.”

“I was involved with Silas”, Jerry says. “I know his second in command very well.”

“How—How did you … know?” you ask, baffled. “Were you all in on it?”

“Not from the start, no”, Doctor Kry says. “I only knew Edmund and had met Hedwig before. I didn’t even know Jerry, Silas or his second in command.”

You quickly realize that Jerry is the linking chain between them. She linked Hedwig, Edmund and Kry to Silas and his second in command. 

“I had already been informed and knew that there would be someone on this ship out to get me”, Silas says. “I heard that Jerry was on board and caught up with her. She told me that she and Hedwig had met you. It was her that thought it was weird that you asked all of us about art. My men dug, and found out your real identity. My men saw you speaking with the purser, hearing you ask for our cabins and decided to tell it all to me and my second in command, who told Jerry … who told the others.”

“You have more men?” you ask and can’t hide how shocked you get.

“Of course. You don’t think I would go on board with only one man? Do you think I'm stupid, darling? You, on the other hand, probably should have had someone, at least.” 

“Awfully inconsiderate of your bosses, don't you think, to send you all alone?” Jerry says.

“You were looking for this, weren’t you?” Edmund asks and pulls out something from a wooden box behind him. 

You stare at it with wide eyes. The painting.

“Who—Who had it?” you can’t help but question, gulping between the first word. 

“Me, of course”, Edmund says with an offended, yet proud scoff. “It will do nicely in my castle.”

“Now, little Y/N, you know”, Silas says. “Are you happy now? Your mystery is solved.”

Your head hurts too much to answer. You’re not sure if you’re happy. You have learned where the painting disappeared, but you’re tied and hurt, and in the enemies’ grasp. A mixed bag, so to say. 

“I can’t watch the blood”, Hedwig suddenly says and stands up from the armchair she's sitting on. 

She has been the only one that hasn’t smirked at you and seems genuinely apologetic that you're here, but you don't trust that damsel in distress look anymore. She pushes through the others to reach you with a wet handkerchief in her hands. Carefully, she kneels down in front of you and wipes the wet cloth against your forehead. She wipes away the dried blood gently.

“What are you going to do now?” you spit, coming your head to the side. “Throw me overboard?”

“Not exactly”, Silas says, smiling menacingly. 

“Not yet, at least”, Jerry says, grinning.

“If I don't meet my contact in New York, people will know that something has happened to me”, you say coldly. “They'll hunt you down.”

“Oh, will they now? I didn't realize that we had stolen their golden boy.” Silas's cruel smile widens. “Well, Golden Boy, plans seem to have changed.”

You glare at him in confusion. Silas pets your head twice and you hiss at the painful touch. Whatever they hit you with, it must have caused a gigantic bruise.

“Seems like we have to keep you for a while”, he says. “But you will have to stay in here, I’m afraid. You probably understand that we cannot let someone like you wander around the ship.”

You glare at him.

“Do you really think ropes will stop me?” you ask. “I'll be out of here in no time.”

“I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free.” He gives you a testing look before turning to his new companions. “Oh, and one more thing …” He picks up a familiar revolver, spinning it around his hand. “... thank you for the free gun.”

You want to curse at him, but keep quiet for your own sake.

“It's late, the ladies should head to bed”, he says, gesturing for Hedwig and Jerry to leave. “We need to keep someone here to make sure that our little Golden Boy won't free himself and run around, causing trouble.”

“I can take the first shift”, Doctor Kry says and golds up a syringe filled with a translucent liquid.

“Do not harm him, you hear me?” Silas tells him warningly. “I want him alive, coherent and unharmed.”

“Where am I supposed to sleep?” Edmund questions angrily. “In this cabin? Now that I'll have people staring at me?”

“You and Doctor Kry will take Y/N’s cabin”, Silas says.

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Stop being so spoiled, your majesty.”

“Won't that be suspicious?” Silas’s second in command questions. “If they see the young king exit and enter someone else's cabin instead of his own?”

“No one knows his cabin”, Silas says as if things were obvious. “Besides, we're in New York tomorrow anyways. It won't be a problem.” He turns to the others. “Scatter.”

The five of them walk out, leaving you and Doctor Kry alone. The doctor sits down in one of the two armchairs in front of you with a long, tired sigh. In his hand, he twirls the syringe.

“What is that?” you mutter.

“Something that will make you go to sleep if you're trying to escape”, Doctor Kry says simply, as if he was talking about watering flowers.

“Why did you hit me in the head if you had that instead?” you ask bitterly.

“Because it wasn't me, it was the second in command and Jerry.”

“Did you lie down in the swimming pool? About not knowing where Jerry came from?”

“No, Y/N, why would I? I told you that I didn't know anything. I didn't get to know until this afternoon.”

“And yet you're quick to jump the wagon to get me killed. I thought doctors were supposed to be nice.”

“I’ve never said that I was nice.”

“What do you gain from this? Why do you want to engage in collusion with people like this? What kind of doctor even are you?”

“Still, with all these questions … look, Y/N, it’s late. You’d do good in trying to get some sleep.”

“On the floor? With my head pounding in pain? With my hands and feet tied?”

“Suit yourself.”

There’s a deadly silence after that. You listen to the sounds the Normandie creates, and somehow wishes that she could save you, but you’re trapped within her, there’s nothing to be done. You rest your head back onto the edge of the footrest and sigh heavily. Doctor Kry looks at his syringe as if it is the most interesting thing he has ever witnessed.

“I'm thirsty”, you say after a while. 

Doctor Kry stands up, walks over to the dressing table where a crystal carafe is waiting and pours you a glass. He returns to you and holds the glass to your lips, making you drink. You gulp it down and breathe heavily. Doctor Kry returns to his armchair. 

You don't know how long you've been sitting on the floor before you start to fall asleep. You thought that you wouldn't, not in this position (figuratively and literally) but you somehow fall asleep. 

“Wakey wakey, Golden Boy.”

You feel someone poke your head to the side multiple times and open your eyes to see Jerry hold a stick in her hand which she's using to poke your head.

“It's morning”, she says.

You groan groggily. She imitates you and chuckles.

“Did you have a pleasant night?” she teases.

You decide not to answer, not to humor her further. Your eyes draft onto a silver tray on the table.

“Yes, that's your breakfast”, Jerry says and lifts the tray, putting it on the floor in front of you before sitting down. 

She picks up a piece of toast and holds it to your mouth. You take a bite, feeling more humiliated than ever. If only you knew that this was where you'd end up when you stepped on board in France.

“We will be in New York tomorrow”, Jerry says, holding the toast to your lips. “And we'll sneak both you and the painting past your contact.”

“It's just a painting”, you say cluelessly. “Why do you all want it so much?”

“I’m not particularly interested in the painting, but I know that Edmund and Hedwig are.”

“Why?”

“Art nerds.”

“Is it even selling for much?”

“It is — if you give it to the right consumer.”

“And you? What do you gain from this?”

“The thing isn’t about what I gain, it is what I lose … in case I let you roam freely. I don’t trust what you will do with the painting or it’s contents. Plus, you know who I am. If you wouldn’t have stuck your nosy head in everything, you wouldn’t have any problem with me.”

You suddenly realize something. 

“Jerry, I need to go to the bathroom”, you say. “I haven’t been to the bathroom since before you knocked me in the head.”

She sighs heavily. “Alright, come here.”

Before pulling you up on your feet, she unties them. You stumble, almost falling on Jerry. 

“Watch it, big boy”, she warns you. “If you knock me down I’m kicking you between your legs until you can’t have children.”

“If you hadn’t tied my feet, I would actually have blood in them. I can’t feel them.”

She unties your hands bitterly. You make your way into the bathroom and catch a glimpse of yourself in the mirror. Hedwig had wiped away some of the blood, but there were still traces of it in your scalp. You sigh heavily. What should you do? Finally, your hands and feet are free, but you aren’t yet. And — after a quick look around — there’s no way out. The only way out is through the door which Jerry is guarding. 

You could perhaps get out by defeating Jerry, but you have something against fighting women. But, then again, she had knocked you with — what you guess was — a glass bottle. You look around for something that can help you and lay your eyes on a metal bar over the bathtub, used to pull one up. Without a second thought and will all your might, you rip it off. You give it a few squeezes, feeling if it could be strong enough to be used as a weapon and trying to find a comfortable, yet strong, grip. 

You open the door quickly and swing the metal bar towards Jerry. She tries to grab it out of your hands but you push her off and knock her to the ground with the bar. You're not sure how hard you are hitting her, but it's enough force to keep her down. Quickly, you make your way past her and storm out of the cabin, almost crashing into the opposite wall in the corridor. You look around quickly, trying to think of where to go. After what Silas said, that he has more men than just his second in command lurking around, you're not sure who you can be seen by. You need to find an officer. You need to get higher.

Shit, the painting!

Your heart is beating loudly in your chest as you scurry back into the cabin. Jerry is lying on the floor, unconscious, and you almost feel bad for knocking her, but you know that it had to be done. It was her or you. Quickly, you open the wooden box and fish out the painting, tucking it under your arm. You can't hide it in your cabin, not when they know about it. You have to dispose of it somewhere safe.

Every step you take is careful, planned and mortified. You clutch the painting tightly, as if it is life itself.

Moving through the long corridor, you're certain that someone will jump out behind a corner and knock you out, like yesterday. Adrenaline is pumping through your veins, almost making you nauseous. You continue through the corridor, over to the hall with the staircases. Your suit has dried blood on it, you look (and feel) manic, will anyone take you seriously?

You freeze as you see a pair of eyes on you. Kry. His blue eyes seem to darken as he notices you, and the painting.

Quickly, you throw yourself into the elevator, and press a random button, wanting the doors to close before Doctor Kry reaches you. And they do, but when you look at the display beside you, you're going the opposite to where you need to go. New plan, you think, I have to sneak into tourist class — or third class, whatever gets you furthest away.

While standing in the elevator, you take a look at the painting to make sure that it hasn’t been damaged in this mess. You turn it around to inspect the canvas and notice something stuck in the corner of the wooden brackets. Carefully, you reach your fingers in and pull out a folded paper. Tucking the painting between your arm and your waist, you unfold the paper to find a list of names and locations … some of which you recognize. They’re all wanted criminals and you guess that the ones you don’t recognize are criminals as well. And the locations …

Your body goes cold and stiff. For a few moments, it feels like the entire world has stopped spinning. This is suddenly more serious than you could ever expect. Quickly, you put the paper in the pocket of your black pants.

You make your way through corridors you haven’t been in before, through doors you’re sure you’re not allowed through. You can’t help but look around at the new environment. Despite being one of Normandie’s lower classes, the attention to detail had been given to every centimeter of the ship. 

Focus!

You’re not sure where you’re going, but you need to find someone that can help you. You consider giving it to a random passenger and ask them to give them to an officer, but in your entire training, you have been told not to pull innocent civilians into your job. They could get seriously hurt and it would be completely your own fault. 

You make your way through tourist class, making sure not to be seen by anyone. If Silas have more people than you thought, why wouldn’t they be in multiple classes? You’re not even sure why the painting have caused this big of a commotion, but there’s no way you can give up the painting now — not after everything you’ve gone through. Your head is still pounding from the glass bottle and your heart beating out of your chest by the sight of Doctor Kry. He knows that you’re roaming freely, and soon, they all will know … and they will look for you. Silas’s words still ring in your ear; “I would very much like for you to see what we do to you if you decide to break free” — well you surely don’t. But where can one run where the space is limited? It’s not like you can grab a lifeboat and sail your way to safety. The sea can be just as dangerous as the people you’re dealing with. 

You look around for someone in black uniform, desperately wanting to find someone to help you before you get a bullet through your head. Finally, you find a steward carrying a metal tray. Like lightning had struck through you, you barge forward and grab his arm. 

“Sir, you have to help me!” you hiss and pull him into an empty corridor. 

“What are you doing-?” he gasps. 

“Please listen and listen quickly”, you whisper in pure panic. The words fall out of your mouth incoherently, but you somehow manage to create the sentences you need for the steward to listen to you. “I have to get to the Captain! Like … now! It’s really, really urgent! Please, just trust me!”

You look around with wide eyes, heart now pounding in your throat. The steward nods in confusion and signals for you to come with him. You’re not sure why he decides to trust you, but you’re ever so grateful for it. He takes you through hidden passages used for staff so that none of the paying passengers will have to see them, up a couple of steep stairs and through some more doors. You hug the painting tightly against your roaring chest. Every corner makes your heart stop, terrified that someone will stand on the other side and knock you out the second you turn. 

The steward points at a door with a golden sign on it — ‘Officers’ quarters’. You pound on the door until you’re sure your knuckles bleed. A stern looking man in neat uniform opens, giving you a dark look. 

“Who are you?” he questions. “What do you want?”

“I’m Y/N L/N, I’m an agent of the crown and this is the missing painting that has been all over the news … you have to keep it secure until we reach New York.”

The officer looks confused as he takes the painting in his hands and lets you into the quarters. 

“You’re bloody, what happened to you, sir?”

“There’s six passengers — Mr Achilleos and his man, His Majesty Edmund of Vesanus, Doctor Karl Kry, Miss Hedwig Carter and Miss Jerry Kim. They knocked me out and kept me in a cabin the entire night. They’re working together. They want this painting …”

… and probably my life by now.

“ … keep it safe”, you beg the officer and feel your voice quiver. “Please. If i can’t meet you at the harbor when we dock tomorrow, please give it to my contact — I will write down his name —  and tell him that he can find further information on board the ship.”

“I will tell the captain about the passengers, they will be taken care of and kept in arrest until we reach land where the police will deal with them”, the officer says.

“Thank you. A lot. Really.”

“You can stay here if you want.”

You feel for the note in your pocket and shake your head. “I have to do something first.”

The officer nodded. On shaky legs, you open the door and walk out into the corridor again. The steward is long gone and you’re alone in an unfamiliar corridor. You suddenly feel exhausted and decide to stay close to the door for a few moments to catch your breath, as if the officers’ quarter was a safe place. 

The note has to be hidden somewhere across the ship so that your contact can find it in case you don’t make it out alive. The note is more important than the painting and can, under no circumstances, go in the wrong hands. These names have to reach your contact. The group will look for the painting in belief that the note is still there, so the note has to be hidden separately so that they won’t find it. 

You make your way through the corridors slowly, making sure not to be caught with the list of names on you. In a weird, panic filled daze, you make your way through corridors, through lounges and dining halls where you hide the note. Underneath a chair, stuck to the corner. You deice to find your way back to the officers’ quarters and somehow find yourself out on deck. The wind is grabbing at you, pulling you left and right. You have a hard time keeping yourself on your feet. No one else is outside and you suspect it has to do with the fact that it’s early in the morning and the dark gray sky above you threat of rain.

“Y/N, don’t move.”

You turn to see the second in command with a gun in his hand.

“If you shoot me you'll ruin your life”, you say to him as confidentially as you can muster, but you can't help but worry if he's going to pull the trigger. 

“Do you think I care?” the second in command questions with a scoff. “I serve my boss until my last breath, I couldn't care less about other trivial matters. Where's the painting?”

“You don't care for the painting. Ask me instead where the note is.”

His eyebrow twitches.

“You know about the note, huh?” he says, eyes narrowing. “Seems like I'll have to get that out of you.”

“Why don't you have your boss do it? Or is he in arrest?”

“Don't worry about him, he always comes out on top. Come with me now or I will shoot you-”

“Shoot me then. The note is hidden and the painting is with trusted people.”

“Idiot. Do you think I was born yesterday? If I shoot you, I can't get the note. You may be stupid, but i dont think youre careless enough To sacrifice yourself for such a trivial thing. Get over here. Now.”

You're unarmed and alone, but if there's one thing you've been taught, it is to not give up without a fight. Your eyes catch onto an officer patrolling the upper deck and whistle. As the second in command takes his eyes off of you, you dive head first into the swimming pool. From his perspective, you don't think — wish — that he sees the man above him. The water wraps around you like a cold blanket and for a few seconds you can't even feel the wetness, only biting cold that almost makes you gasp under the surface. Somewhere, you think that you can hear a gunshot and see something whooshing past you in the water. And then another, and another. And then nothing.

You don't return to the surface until you're sure that the bullet rain has stopped. Your burning lungs gasp for air and you grip the ladder to your left. The second in command has been wrestled down on the deck by the same officer you saw. A smile tugs at your lips as the second in command glares at you from the floor, smashed against the planks.

“Sir, are you alright?” the officer asks, panting.

“I'm okay”, you reply, panting heavier.

An ice cold wind cuts right through you.

“Go inside”, the officer tells you.

“Y/N!” the second in command shouts as you've started to walk. “Don't forget that there are more. You barely know half of the people we have on board. Don't think for a second that you are safe!”

You pretend not to hear him and make your way inside for warmth. Unsure of where to go because of the second in command’s words, you return to the officers’ quarters.

That evening, you make your way down to the arrest. There are still two questions you haven’t gotten an answer to. You've gotten your gun back from a steward and have tucked it in your blazer. Nausea is eating you up from the inside as you walk into the room, watching the cell and its habitants.

“Look who it is”, you hear Jerry snicker. “Change your mind, Golden Boy? Do you want us out?”

You don't even bother to answer.

“The painting is in a safe place, and so are the note”, you say. “I suppose that Jerry, Silas and your second in command wanted the note and not the painting … and Edmund and Hedwig wanted the painting … but what did the Doctor want?”

“Me?” Kry asks coldly and walks over to the bars with his arms crossed. “What I wanted?”

“Yes”, you reply.

“You, of course. Imagine, my own little lab rat that I could do whatever I wanted with … no one would even bat an eye if both you and the painting disappeared.”

“You won't get any of it.” You let your eyes wander over the six people. “Not the painting, not the note, and absolutely not me. Jail is what you will get.”

You can hear Hedwig start to sob in the corner of the cell. She has sunken down along the wall with her head hanging between her knees, body shaking with sobs. Edmund sighs and walks over to her side, grabbing her shoulders and trying to pull her up on her feet.

“Don't cry”, he says quietly. “We won't go to jail, I will make sure of that. I won't allow it.”

“Did you just come down here to revel in our misery?” Silas asks you. 

You're not sure why you came down here. Did you want to make sure to yourself that they were behind bars? Or make you feel more powerful? Or even just get to see them?

“You do know that we will have our revenge, don’t you?” Edmund says and looks at you. “This is not the end.”

“I hope that you like being a dog, because that's what you're going to be, leash and all”, Silas scoffs.

“Tattooed”, Jerry adds on with a tilted smile. “Marked. Would Golden boy like that?”

You ignore her, and walk over to the cells bars, eyes glued onto Hedwig. 

“What were you doing in my cabin?” you ask. 

She freezes, looking cluelessly at you through her teary eyes.

“What?” she asks in shock. 

“Your perfume was all over my cabin”, you say coldly. “Why were you in my cabin?”

“I-I’m sorry, Y/N!” she cries and runs over to the bars, reaching out for you. 

You back away.

“I’m sorry, I-I … I looked through your things. I couldn’t help it, I just … I really, really wanted to hold you. I didn’t take anything, I promise! Please believe me, Y/N, I just wanted to- … it doesn’t matter. Forgive me.”

You don’t answer. Maybe Hedwig isn’t as sweet and innocent as you thought. 

DAY 4 — End of voyage

After your hell night last night you couldn't be more grateful for the somewhat pleasant night you had. Every single sound and movement woke you up, preparing you to see one of the six criminals or their acquaintances. And since a ship is in constant movement and makes sounds only God knows about, you barely slept for an hour straight. But at least you were in a warm bed.

You can't eat anything during breakfast. You stare at the sandwich and steaming coffee in front of you with a twisted stomach. The room is filled with passengers, like normal, but the bright room can’t be more dark and sinister. It is as if someone has drained it of color. Any of the smiling guests can be one that want to put a bullet through your skull, and is waiting for you to rise from your chair and follow you outside.

When a waiter comes over to your table, the coffee has stopped steaming. 

“Good morning, sir”, he says politely and places a silver tray with a silver cloche on your table. 

“What is this?” you ask in confusion. 

“A gentleman told me to give this to you. He has paid for it and everything.”

With that said, he smiles and walks away to continue his job. You glance down at the dome looking metal and feel your heart sink. Although you don’t want to, your heart reaches out to pull it away and reveal whatever is lying on the silver tray underneath. You’re not sure what you are expecting but a small, folded paper is certainly not it. As if on autopilot, you open the paper to see only a line. 

“We will be waiting for you when we dock, you won’t get past us. We are watching you.”

You were right. A knot appears in your throat. Your legs go numb. You will be killed. 

The air is hard to breathe in and you have to get out before you suffocate. You get out on the deck with the lifeboats hanging above your head and lean against the railing. In a few hours, Normandie would dock and you would be caught. You’re not sure that the steward who had helped you before would be able to save you, and you don’t want to put him in more danger … but you can’t step off the ship in New York’s harbor. The lifeboat above your head gives you an idea. A stupid, right out ridiculous idea … 

You look around you before your shaking hands release the lifeboat from its holds. You have been taught the most outrageous things to rescue yourself — including lowering an ocean liner’s lifeboat. The davits slowly bring the lifeboat downwards and you climb in, lying down to avoid being seen. Your body trembles with fear, unsure of what this will bring you … or where it will bring you. 

There's nothing on the ship that you should bring with you. There's no guarantee that the lifeboat will reach the harbor safely, but its a try. The painting will be more secure with the steward. 

You feel a ‘thump’ from when the lifeboat hits the waves underneath you. You see how Normandie towers above you, the black steel never seeming to end. A pair of heads stick out from the side and something hits the water beside you. Quickly, you cover your body with your arms and legs, curling up until all vital organs are covered. Hitting you with bullets on this distance are harder than one can think, but not impossible. The second you’re sure that they can’t reach you, you get up and start to paddle. If the men tell a steward about the missing lifeboat, they’ll steer their ship over here to get you. 

Your arms quickly grow sore. From now on, you’re entirely alone. There’s no one to save you in case anything happens and you will have to find your way to land by yourself. But it's better than being on board the ship.

The sea around you feels abnormally calm. There’s no distinctive sounds apart from the waves hitting the side of the lifeboat. 

You sit for a moment, taking the time to think. This case has been different from all the others you have done. More personal than you could ever have anticipated. You’re not sure why, but something with this case told you that things wouldn’t be over if they got their way. It was more than just materia, they want you too … to use as they please. Doctor Kry was right. Who would bat an eye if you disappeared along with the painting? They wouldn’t call it a kidnapping, it would be a disappearance that could be explained by the painting. And now they have none of it. Not the painting, not the list of criminals and not you. Pretty successful, you think. Maybe you succeeded this mission after all? 

You hiss as you touch your sensitive head. You’ll have to find a doctor in New York.

Hours go by. You row, you rest, row, rest, row, rest. Throw up. Damn if you have gotten a concussion, you think, but it’s probably just the sea air making you nauseous. 

How things had turned out. You thought that you would have had to deal with one or two criminals … not six. Ad how Silas had seen right through you … 

It’s over now. It will be over soon. Is it over?

You continue to row. 

in the distance, you see a fishing ship pulling up their net and you wave with your arms in hope for them to see you, which they inevitably do. Your exhausted, cold body is picked up and wrapped in an old blanket. 

“What were you doing out in a lifeboat like that?” one of the old sailors asks. “Which ship has sunk?”

“It’s the Normandie!” another one says as he reads the name on the wooden planks. “Has the Normandie sunk?!”

You tell them that it hasn’t suck — in fact, it’s steaming on better ad stronger than ever — but that an accident had happened, which resulted in you all alone in a lifeboat in the middle of the ocean. 

They give you a yellow rain coat that you use to hide in and join the sailors to New York’s harbor that evening. In the distance, you see the different ocean liner piers. Cunard-White Star Line, United States Lines, HAPAG, Italian Lines, Swedish-American Lines … and finally, Compagnie Générale Transatlantique. Normandie was towering above all the other liners and you stood there on the pier, looking at it. Four days ago, you had been standing in the harbor at Le Havre and been excited to step on board. But now, that you are looking at it from afar, in the dim lights, there’s something unsettling about the her. It looks like she’s apologizing to you for everything that she allowed to happen between her walls. You almost start to cry. 

You turn around and walk without giving the ship one more glance, hoping that it will be the last time you get to see the Normandie. 

You meet up with your contact in a small warehouse that following morning and tell him what you have hidden on the ship. He promises to retrieve it. He already has the painting and has secured it, had gotten it from the very steward you had left it with. 

“I have something else too”, he says and gives you an apologetic look. 

“What?” you ask and watch him closely as he takes out a paper from his pocket. 

“I’m sorry, Y/N.”

You open the paper and feel your blood go icy cold. The handwriting is unfamiliar, but the nickname you see written in black …

“Thought you could lock us in? Think twice, Golden boy, we’re already out. We’ll find you, be so sure of that. Don’t think that we will let you slip away. You will look good in a leash.

S.A”

You fold the paper just as quick and breathe out a shaky breath. 

“Don’t worry, Y/N, you will be protected”, your contact promises. “It will not be any problem, I assure you.”

With the six people’s contacts and power, you doubt that your protection will do much, but you nod. The painting is safe and the note is safe. They may have escaped jail and are looking for you, but you succeeded with your mission. And that is all that matters.

[leikeliscomet]

Honestly, Ryan wasn't even a bad companion he just wasn't utilised properly. His YouTube channel should've been a central part of his character. Maybe have him been the one to record everything. Maybe have him actually know Two Girls Roaming in Praxeus because he watched their videos or gets filming tips from them. His relationship with his dad should've been threaded throughout s11 so his appearance in Resolution stuck. Maybe he shouldn't have forgiven him in the person-forgives-neglectful-parent-because-family-can-do-no-wrong trope but chosen Graham as his new father figure so that 'call me grandad' actually hits harder. Maybe have Thirteen be his father figure instead, building on the way Ryan tends to follow her instructions the most out of the fam. His feelings about Grace should've been in the spotlight. Maybe have him find Grace in the alt universe. Maybe have him be the one to try and kill Tim Shaw. Maybe have him be the one dream about Grace in Can You Hear Me. Maybe take the Graham scenes and replace him with Ryan.. y'know.. Grace's whole grandson...? Maybe also address the fact his mum died and bc his dad left he was left all alone as a child??? And that should've been his Can You Hear Me nightmare instead of throwing in the dregs unprovoked?? His mechanic skills should've been a key trait too. Maybe have him fix the ship with Thirteen in Tsuranga instead of Yaz. Maybe have him, Tesla, and Thirteen talk about the joy of building and fixing things. Maybe have him go with Nevi and Silas in Orphan 55 to work together on mechanic stuff but also show Ryan's longing for a father-son relationship like theirs. (And make Yaz fight the dregs instead bc wasn't she the one with police training...).

His feelings for Yaz and Bella could've been sorted out properly. Maybe have Ryasmin for a few eps but stop bc space-time travel overcomplicates things or to set things up for Yaz' coming out and Thasmin. Maybe address the fact Bella likely died on Orphan 55 and have it cause tension between Ryan and Thirteen bc she refused to help her. And Ryan's Blackness. Maybe have Ryan be the one to disagree with the plan and try to help Rosa instead. Maybe have him explain who she is to the others instead of having the only Black guy in the cast not know who Rosa Parks is.

There was so much potential man. So so so so much...

[ckret2]

What your thoughts on other bill ships? Like Kryptos/Bill or Stanley/Bill. I love your Wasting Away Again in the Goldilocks Zone fic on ao3 and this is my first time using Tubmlr, so I’m not sure how it works here, so sorry if I sent this wrong place 💔

u found the right place

I don't ship him with any of the Henchmaniacs (except for saying an eye-bat is his ex because it's the funniest possible option), but I think he's hooked up with half of them. I'd say "casually hooked up" but I don't think there's anything casual about it, the Henchmaniacs are fueled by petty drama and rancid vibes.

I acknowledge Kryptos is easy for ships because he looks like he could conceivably be the same species as Bill and we know so little about him you could give him almost any personality, but i'm not interested in it myself. Especially since it feels like a lot of what I've seen with Kryptos/Bill goes for "Kryptos is the one nice guy in the gang and Bill is tsundere for him" and that doesn't do anything for me.

I occasionally contemplate "wouldn't it be fucked up if Bill hooked up with Stan so he could pretend he's with Ford and Stan knew but still went with it for some reason (idk why, maybe Stan's super lonely, maybe Bill's currently wearing a smoking hot human body, the point is we want DRAMA so any excuse will work)" but outside that, nah. I think Stan and Bill would be VERY fun partners in crime and they're GREAT to bounce off each other, but I prefer them platonically, I don't feel a romantic or sexual spark between them.

You wanna know what Bill ships I'm fascinated with?

Bill/Trembley. it's GOTTA be one sided though, Bill's gotta be head over heels for this weirdo like a teenage girl for her first celebrity crush while Trembley never even notices

Bill/the howling void he totally lied about not dating in TBOB. Here I am 15,000 words deep into writing their entire relationship start to finish... I was literally already writing about Bill dating a black hole, who happens to howl, prior to TBOB; so the book just took my OC and made her canon??? yeah sure fine I'll take it, damn.

Bill-possessing-Silas/the 100-something wives he stole from his cultists according to thisisnotawebsitedotcom. weeks after that reveal this is still the funniest & most fascinating thing to me simply because Bill had ABSOLUTELY NO REASON to do that, truly enthralled by his potential motives, I cannot believe this triangle is married

Bill/the shaman. I just think something was going on there. I can feel it. The shaman taught him a bit of magic, how often do you think that happens to Mr. Trillion-Year-Old All-Seeing Eye? Probably not much!

[intrusive-thought-library]

After many, many years of not having played any Fire Emblem, I asked my friend to recommend me a game to start with, and he recommended me Fates. I have been playing it for the past few days on the holiday and safe to say, I'm hooked xD absolutely obsessed with unlocking support events more than progressing the story AHDFKAJHFAK

I am still early in the game so no spoilers, please!

Anyway, as a humble shipper and inhaler of character interactions, I love plenty of the friendship/etc dynamics I've seen so far. Orochi is currently my favorite, she has such a wonderful fun auntie vibe,,, her playful personality is delightful and I am obsessed.

I shipped her pretty hard with Silas at first because I unlocked their support story first (he is another big favorite of mine), and I was pretty sure I was going to marry them until,,, well. Until I unlocked her support stories with Kaze and fell head over heels with their dynamic.

So far, as far as romantic synergy goes, they definitely take the cake for me and I,,, well, I couldn't resist and married them right away KJAHGFKAJGJKA

i havent even unlocked all of the units yet 😭 they were simply too perfect for each other, dont look at me. Anyway, because of my luck, i found out they are apparently one of the rarepairs in the franchise and have,,,, no ship art, no fics, no nothing. NOTHING!!

So I have hereby claimed myself as ceo of Karochi and am going to start my own kingdom //silly

I have more stuff cooking as far as fanart goes, stay tuned for more gay rambling in the (hopefully near) future.

That's it, thanks for coming to my ted talk xD

[jevilowo]

Not sure if ive already done this. But.

Predictions for COMIC 7

CHARLES DARLING WILL BE THE FINAL ENEMY besides Helen. Trust me on this one I swear they wouldn't have brought him in if they didn't have plans. ALSO the mother of the Mann triplets (Bette Mann neé Darling) was RELATED TO HIM HE'S RELEVANT. I'm so convinced he's the one Helen made a deal with and he's going to make a grab for Mann Co.

We'll get to see Bilious Hale in a flashback and find out what happened to him. Bilious Hale, oh guy who punched coal out of mines and sat on John Wilkes Booth while other people shot at him, my beloved. I hope they don't reveal he was a bad father or anything.

A woman is nice to Ms Pauling for once and she gets a smooch. She deserves it. Hopefully it won't be a smooch from Helen (DAMN YOU 4CHAN LEAKS), the old lady's had her hired since Pauling was in her mid teens.

WE GET HORSEMANN LORE! this is just wishful thinking on my part the Horsemann makes me insane. Shout out to Silas Mann fr. If he doesn't show up, I hope they at least acknowledge or reference him. I swear they had plans for him back in 2010. Which they then immediately abandoned in favour of developing Mann vs Machine.

Spydad reveal. Pretty much a given. No need to elaborate. I hope Scout’s mother shows up I love her.

Demo gets something important to do! He's only been there for comedic bits so far really, so I think he deserves some Serious Plot Stuff.

Build up to and cop out on Pyro face reveal. The whole thing of Pyro's character is the mystery, so I think the funniest way to go about a face reveal would be for us to only see the team's reactions and have them all react very differently e.g. Scout vomits, Demo gives them the thumbs up, Spy starts taking horrified notes, Engie looks vaguely lovestruck, Saxton Hale expresses annoyance that they aren't actually *insert obsucure species of something here* like he thought.

CONAGHER LORE!! By which I mean Engie shows up and has a chat with Fred about Radigan and immortality and whatnot. Fred has to have been spared from the bloodshed for a reason, right?

Classic Medic shows up! Or they confirm he is dead. Or they confirm he is Pyro which is a funny theory I read once but sincerely doubt. Maybe they'll pull a Bea and have him have been a girl the whole time.

I have a crackpot theory that Helen/Elizabeth is actually Bette Mann (again, mother of the Mann triplets), and while it's unlikely to be true, it would genuinely be so funny if I'm right so WATCH THIS SPACE. My main reasoning is Helen started her Australium search the year the triplets were born, aka the year Bette DIED, and also Bette is a nickname for Elizabeth. Also also it adds to my theory that she will team up with Charles Darling, who is, as I've already said, related to Bette.

Olivia gets to do something important also. Saying this bc she's mostly been a prop so far. I'm manifesting a sideplot where she summons the Horsemann to beat up Charles Darling for her.

Merasmus returns! Last we saw he was arrested, but Jay Pinkerton really likes his Soldier/Merasmus interactions so chances of him coming back are high.

There will be a joke like "geez it feels like it's been seven years since we beat grey mann" and a panel where everyone just lets that process before going back to plot stuff

Chances are, a new comic after so many years means there will be new writers, and the fandom has changed quite a bit since the last one. There will be SUBLIMINAL SPEEDING BULLET SHIPPING. There will be MORE FOCUS THAN IS REALLY NECESSARY on Scout. SOMEONE WILL THEY/THEM PYRO which sounds great actually you know what I forgot where I was going with this godspeed.

ZHANNASOLDIER WEDDING FINALE!!!

[tfp-is-my-lifeblood-lol]

Reasons Why I Think TFP Jack is Underrated:

Welcome to my organized bullet list of why I think Jack is cool. I used to think he was boring too, but now I think he's the goat and here's why:

-He has Main Character Energy, but he's more snarky than most cliche main characters

In fact, he is a petty king:

-He doesn't wanna be on Team Prime at first, but eventually accepts it...

...He then proceeds to BURN Airachnid's ship to the GROUND with a stupid survival kit for babies

-HE DEFEATED THE ALIEN SPIDER QUEEN WITH NOTHING BUT A LIGHTER AND A POCKET KNIFE, BRO

-HE WAS DONE WITH HER BULLSHIT LOL

-Plus he tricked Silas by pretending to beg for mercy, when really, he was stealing his walkie talkie.

-Jack is boring, BUT the fact that Jack has nothing special about him IS his superpower; Miko has the Apex Armor and her brave personality, Raf has genius level computer smarts, and Jack has PURE SPITE. It's beautiful.

-He has zero skills, but he'll figure out how to defeat his enemies anyway, SOLEY because he's tired and doesn't get paid enough for this shit.

-For example, in one of the Titan Magazine comics, Jack literally kicks Silus in the balls

Evidence:

Iconic✨

Apex armor? Cybertronian technology?

Screw that. How about I KICK you in the balls?l

-A true legend

-He's also a mess though, and I relate so hard

-He's so petty he talked two aliens into helping him cheat at street racing to piss off his classmate

-His romantic subplot is treated like a complete joke, and I love that. Normally, the Main Character✨ is awkward, but gets the girl in the end. Not Jack, though. Nope. He just constantly looks stupid in front of Sierra, nothing ever happens between them, and Arcee is just watching with popcorn as his life falls apart. It's hilarious.

Also, if I'm correct, isn't the last time we see Sierra when she sees Arcee's homoform, and thinks Jack has a girlfriend, and then Jack is like "She's my mom😅." And Sierra's all like: "Your mom looks good in leather😐...on your bike😐😐😐😐..." Maybe I'm wrong, but if that's the case, it's funny. Jack is a simp and it gets him nowhere.

-His sarcasm works perfectly with Arcee's sarcastic attitude.

-Also Tailgate is voiced by Josh Keaton (Jack's voice actor) in the flashbacks, so I headcanon that Jack reminds Arcee of Tailgate, and that's why she has such a soft spot for him.

Tailgate and Arcee's dialogue had the same vibe as her and Jack's

Also, it gives more context to why she was so scared to lose him when Airachnid showed up. It would've literally been like losing Tailgate all over again.

-Jack is Team Prime's designated Good Ideas Guy

It was Jack's idea to hijack the spacebridge to send him to Cybertron

It was also his idea to drain the dark energon out of The Nemesis when it came alive and froze everyone

-I'm probably just projecting, he has generalized anxiety disorder vibes

-I feel like he prefers a comfortable, predictable life because he gets nervous easily

-He's always the first to freak out, and overthink, and Arcee always has to calm him down

-And she's so patient with him it's so sweet😱

-I agree the writing behind his existence is meh, and a lot of the cool stuff about him is probably unintentional, but I don't care, so take that!

Anyway, the moral of the story is:

Jack is just an angry little harmonica boy. Leave him alone. He's trying his best😭

Thank you for coming to my TedTalk.

[areyougonnabe]

for the polar history recap posts, i’m dying to know more about lillie…deeply tragic and i’ve also heard something about the nickname ‘ooze’ and i desperately need to know more about that

LILLIE 😭😭😭😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

denis (also spelled dennis) gascoigne lillie was born in 1884, making him 26 when the terra nova set off for antarctica. he was trained in natural sciences at cambridge (although he didn't do too well on his exams) and was appointed as the ship's biologist—meaning he did not form part of the shore party in the hut in at cape evans, but remained on board the ship during the winter, studying antarctic marine biology including whales, plankton, and deep-sea creatures like sponges (like the one pictured above). his nickname "ooze" comes from his job as biologist—ooze refers to a specific kind of biological marine sediment that got pulled up in seabed dredges which lillie would then examine.

in silas's diary on the voyage south, he describes lillie:

Lilley—"Hercules'" or "Sequins" is rather a dreamer and asserts he can remember his former existences in this world. Much fun can be got from him if handled properly.

lillie was noted by other members of the expedition to be a bit of a crackpot, asserting that he was a persian and a roman in his past lives. and more than that, possibly:

Lillie had decided that he was not the marrying type, claiming that he had evolved beyond it. In later years Scott’s young Norwegian skiing expert Tryggve Gran recounted that as they crossed the Equator on the Terra Nova Lillie had revealed that he was a woman trapped in a man’s body. ‘When I see a naked man I blush,’ he allegedly said as the others sprawled shirtless on the deck in tropical sunshine, ‘I am split and I can’t help it. Luckily I understand myself and have the control to avoid doing anything wrong.’ Gran was a notoriously unreliable source, and it is hard to imagine anyone having the courage to say that under those circumstances; but perhaps Lillie did.

(from sara wheeler's cherry)

usually i would not recommend anyone trust anything that comes out of gran's mouth, but honestly i do buy this, because, well... vibes.

anyway, on the terra nova, lillie was notable for his talent at caricature, and several of his rather hilariously cruel drawings appeared (copied by wilson) in the south polar times, including this one of birdie:

while the shore party was in antarctica, lillie spent two winters in new zealand studying whales, fossils, and anthropology:

Lillie has been fossilizing & is off next month for 5 months whaling with the Norwegians. He is looking very well & very happy and is ‘a dear little chap’ to use Scott’s expression.

—pennell's diary, may 18 1911

after returning to england, taking the long way round on board the terra nova to continue his marine research, lillie took up residence at cambridge again, alongside deb, silas, priestley, and griff, to work up the scientific results from the expedition.

lillie also spent a lot of time with atch and pennell in 1913, frequently accompanying them to dine and see theater in london. he also drew (probably on board the ship) the caricature of them as the "antarctic lovebirds":

during the war, he was a conscientious objector—a "conchie," refusing to go to the front. it was an incredibly difficult position to maintain in the face of widespread societal opposition. he found solace in a continued and deepening relationship with cherry (who was also not at the front, though in his case for health reasons) as sara wheeler describes in her biography of cherry:

Currently working as a bacteriologist for the military, Lillie had been one of the few visitors at Lamer during the bad months in the middle of 1916. They became unusually intimate (‘I should love to see your chubby cheeks again’), and after one weekend Lillie scrawled with typical irreverence in his note of thanks that, ‘It was only my body which left you, for my ultimate Reality still walks behind your Bath chair and meditates about the many paths of your lovely garden. With love.’

and god i just need to copy these entire sections from the wheeler in here because they make me want to sob:

In September 1916 he had been transferred to the pathology lab of a military hospital in Bournemouth, which he loathed (‘no nice cliffs or sea birds, only sand banks and orange peel’), and was appalled to learn the next year that Cherry was poised to become engaged to Christine Davis (‘being unconventional and as near to nature as I can get, it seems all wrong to me that you should have to tie yourself up for the sake of Society’), but he strove, generally, to be optimistic, whereas Cherry was permanently resigned to his destiny. In August 1917 Lillie returned to Lamer for a week. Writing in advance with details of his train to Hatfield, he concluded that, ‘if a motor does not turn up the wings of joy will waft me those four-and-a-half miles bag included. So don’t worry.’ They had a wonderful time together. ‘I do hope,’ Lillie wrote when he was back in horrible Bournemouth, ‘your throat and the rest of you continues to get well and worthy of the sunny spirit which I see under the label ACG.'

though things seemed to be going as well as they could for lillie, shortly before the end of the war in early 1918, he suffered a nervous breakdown and landed in the notorious bethlem mental institution, known as bedlam. he was there for three years, and cherry was barred from visiting him.

he emerged for a short period of time in 1921, seemingly recovered, and took up lecturing in biology again at cambridge, but by the end of that year had relapsed and was institutionalized again.

frank debenham, writing to expedition agent j.j. kinsey in 1927 to solicit funding for SPRI, gave him an update:

Poor old Lillie is in less happy circumstances, the last I heard of him was that he was never likely to get out of Bedlam, a rather ghastly end up for poor old "Ooze's" brilliant promise.

lillie spent the rest of his life in institutions, and lived until the age of 78, dying in 1963. that was four years after the death of his friend cherry—who, despite constant attempts, was never allowed to visit him.

per UK law, lillie's medical records will be sealed until 2063, 100 years after his death, but a post on bethlem's official blog about lillie briefly notes that he was "depressed, delusional and suicidal."

the post also notes, importantly, that his breakdown had nothing whatsoever to do with his antarctic experiences:

The content of his medical notes suggests that the state of mind that brought him to hospital was entirely unrelated to his experiences of 1910-1913. Indeed, they report that “on the whole he felt better during this time”. 

OK, let's end on a nice note. here's a picture of him having a nice time at silas's wedding (i think) with his best friends. RIP lillie, i hope your next life is going well somewhere out there right now 🥲💓

(also another good writeup on lillie with some lovely art can be found on @worstjourney's patreon here!)

[pagesfromthevoid]

Cowboy Like Me | d.d. | 6

Din Djarin x princess!reader

Word Count: 2.4K

Warnings: Nothing really, honestly. Din is a simp still

Author’s Note: I got to use my favorite fic trope in this chapter :^) gif source is unknown so if you find it, tell me!

Series Masterlist | Talk to Me!

The Sanctuary

“We need to restock on supplies,” Din explained as they entered the atmosphere of Sorgan the following morning. 

If she questioned his excuse to land, she didn’t say a word about it. She just nodded, tucking her feet under herself in the seat of the cockpit. 

He tried to get her to go to bed in the hull the previous night, but she insisted on staying up there with him and Grogu. Even if they sat in silence –her reading with the kid in her lap –it was a comfortable silence. He enjoyed just having her there beside him. If they wanted to talk, they could…but they didn’t have to. And Din appreciated that more than she would probably ever understand. 

With the newfound knowledge of why she left, Din was determined to keep her as far from Silas Credence as he could. The helmet hid his anger well, and he was thankful that she could not see how genuinely livid he was about what had happened to her. It didn’t matter that he didn’t know her well –no one had the right to touch her like that. Which settled the dilemma he had been facing since he met her: he wouldn’t be delivering her. 

Maybe he was developing a habit of keeping quarries instead of collecting their bounty.

The credits didn’t matter anymore –though he wondered if they ever really did. She was willing to give him everything she had, and on that first day, he had considered taking less than what her mother had offered. If they really mattered, he wouldn’t have even paused to entertain the idea. 

No, the credits didn’t matter. The only thing that mattered was her.

“Where are we?” She asked as the hull opened, revealing the greenery of Sorgan. 

Din liked it here. It was peaceful; quiet. He would have stayed if he wasn’t a Mandalorian; if he didn’t live a life that constantly put people in danger. He had almost left the kid here; if it wasn’t for Gideon and his desire to capture Grogu, he would have. Deep down, Din was glad he kept Grogu with him. Even if it meant keeping the child from living a normal life, Din cared too much for the foundling to give him up again.

“Sorgan,” he offered as an explanation, stepping off the ship and into the fresh air. 

She was hesitant, one strap of her bag held tightly against her side. Smiling softly under his helmet, even if she couldn’t see it, Din offered his hand for her to take. Maybe she knew he was smiling; maybe it was clear in his body language –it didn’t matter, really –because she returned the smile as she took his hand to exit the ship. 

As the door of the ship closed, they stood there for several seconds with her hand still in his. Perhaps he imagined it, but he swore he felt her grip tighten just barely before she released his hand. However, she stuck close to his side as they made their way back to the village he had helped train so long ago. 

“How did you know to stop here?” She asked as they walked, looking up at him. In the morning sun, she practically glowed; it took far more willpower than he had not to stare at her. 

“I came here with Grogu a while back,” Din explained, trying to keep his eyes on the path in front of him. “They needed —,”

“Mando! Mando! It’s us! It’s Stoke —,”

“And Caben! Oh, stars —it’s great that you’re back!”

Two men hopped off their transport, tripping over themselves with excited grins on their faces. She looked between Din and the two men, brow raised as she tried to hold back her amused smile. 

“Friends of yours?”

Din simply shrugged as Grogu giggled in excitement, recognizing the two krill farmers. “Just in time. We need a ride.”

Both farmers looked between each other, bright smiles on their faces still, before they motioned for Din and her to join them on their transport cart. He climbed aboard first, motioning for her bag. Once that was handed over, he reached out once again for her hand, intending to help her up. While he didn’t think she couldn’t manage it herself –she was clearly capable of more than she let on –he wanted another excuse to touch her. Even if it was just her hand.

As he pulled her up, however, the droid controlling the transport lurched forward –throwing the two off balance. Din fell backwards onto the cart, unable to catch himself. However, because he instinctively reached out to steady her, she fell forward and landed on top of him. His hands gripped her hips without much thought, and her hands braced against the armor covering his chest though. 

For several moments, the two were tangled together on the back of a transport cart in the middle of the woods. Her eyes were wide as she stared up at him, and Din swore he could feel the warmth she radiated through his armor. Though, maybe the heat was just from him. Her fingers slid just barely up his chest plate, brushing against the fabric that was exposed just below his neck. The touch was light, accidental, but Maker –it was enough to stoke the fire inside him into an inferno.

“You two good back there?” One of the farmers asked –maybe Stoke; Din couldn’t focus on the voice to figure it out. 

“Y-yeah,” she stammered out, making the first move to pull away. His grip tightened just slightly –just enough on her that it was noticeable, he was sure –before he released her. She stood on shaking legs, regaining her composure and her balance, then extended her hand to him.

Din took it, pulling himself back up. However, this time, she dropped his hand almost immediately and looked away from him. If he turned on the heat signature tracking in his helmet, he could be certain it was because she was flustered. But he didn’t need to –because he felt the same. The way she looked at him –eyes full of stars and surprise, pressed against him –he knew she felt it too. There was no way she couldn’t.

*****

The village people greeted Mando with genuine excitement, with the children immediately rushing to take Grogu to play. She was pleasantly surprised at such a warm welcome, and she couldn’t help the smile that remained on her face the remainder of the day. They were a simple people, content in their farming and their livelihoods. 

It reminded her of the moisture farmers on Senex, when her father would take her with him to interact with the people of her planet. Her father –Leox of Senex –made a point to meet anyone and everyone he could, wanting to be the people’s senator the best he could. It was always an important lesson when she went with her father; she became a staple in his travels through the villages and towns. And she loved that time with him dearly, because it was always him and her. Her mother rarely joined them, insisting that it wasn’t necessary. She learned a lot about her father on those trips; and even more about her mother in between the lines.

As far as she was aware, people liked her father quite a bit. When he passed, they mourned and thousands of people attended the funeral. More people offered her condolences over her mother, though her mother felt rather removed from the whole ordeal regardless. Silas Credence had offered his apologies, kissing her hand with a superficial smile, that day.

She wished she had known then what was planned for her.

But that didn’t matter anymore. She wasn’t home on Senex. She was on Sorgan, with a Mandalorian and his little green child, and a small village who were genuinely delighted to see them. The food was good, the weather was lovely, and she could stretch her legs out in front of the fire without fear. And truly, she could not ask for anything nicer before he inevitably returned her.

“Omera has an actual place to sleep this time around for us,” Mando announced as he sat beside her at the fire pit. “Last time, we slept in a barn.”

“A barn still wouldn’t have been the worst place I’ve slept in the last week,” she reassured, though she couldn’t look at him.

After their fall that morning, she couldn’t focus when she was around him. The feel of her body pressed against his was ingrained into her memory now. Even through the armor, he was solid and warm, and when he squeezed her hips –Maker help her, all she wanted was to stay there forever. She was certain he had done it on purpose –there was no reason to tighten his grip on her for any other reason than desire. 

“The kid is back there now, asleep,” Mando continued, leaning forward towards the fire. “When you’re ready, I’ll show you where to go.”

She nodded, pushing herself off the ground with a satisfied stretch. He watched her while she lifted her arms over her head then stood himself. As they moved through the village to their lodging, she wondered when he last slept in a bed. It must have been before she arrived; she couldn’t imagine he slept in the cockpit of the ship all the time. And she thought about if he took his helmet off to sleep –he had to, right? It would have been uncomfortable otherwise. 

He wouldn’t be able to while they were on Sorgan, of course. Unless there were separate rooms and he locked the door…but she didn’t want to be separated from him. The cockpit and hull were barely twenty feet apart; a separate room felt like miles. 

“What are the sleeping arrangements?” She asked, looking up at him finally. They were so close, arms brushing just barely as they walked.

“You take the bed; I’ll be on the floor.”

“You don’t have to keep doing that,” she pointed out, frowning as they approached the small hut. A drape covered the entry, but that was all. “I don’t mind sleeping on the floor, nor do I mind sharing a bed if that’s what it’ll take to get you off the floor.”

She stepped inside, setting her bag in the corner by Grogu’s pod, which was closed and locked up safely. Mando followed close behind, setting his pulse rifle beside the bed.

“Fine.”

Truthfully, she wanted to assume he wanted to share the bed; it was big enough for two. But she didn’t want to offend him; didn’t want to make a fool of herself if she was reading too into his treatment of her. So she took a pillow from the bed as well as one of the many blankets provided and tossed them to the floor.

“What are you doing?” Mando asked, having sat down on the bed to remove his boots.

“Making my bed.”

He was silent for a moment, then stood again. She watched him gather the pillow and blanket back up and throw them on the bed, then motioned for it. She swallowed hard, trying to calm the sudden nerves that were sparked by his silent statement. Heart beating fast, she made her way to her side of the bed and sat down to remove her boots. Neither of them had sleepwear as far as she knew, but she would be fine to sleep in her clothes. Though, she needed to wash them sooner or later.

When she pulled her legs up onto the bed, criss-crossing them before her, she watched as Mando started to remove his armor. It was a slow process –the straps, the buckles, the gauntlets all took time to take off –but by the time he slid his boots beneath the bed, he was left in only his flight suit and helmet. 

She couldn’t help it –this was more than she had seen of him in the days they had spent together. And more so, it might be the most she’d ever see of him. His back was to her, setting his armor nearby for easy access, and her eyes roamed over his back. Even through the material of the flight suit, she could make out his shoulder blades and muscles, contracting and moving as he continued prepping for the night. When he turned, facing her finally, she gave him an appraising look –still unable to help herself. 

“When was the last time you took off your armor?” She asked, uncrossing her legs to pull her knees under her chin. 

“Yesterday.”

“No you didn’t,” she argued, brow furrowing as she watched him curiously.

“When I used the ‘fresher, yes.”

“Oh.”

She hadn’t considered him showering –yet now she was imagining him in there, water cascading over the planes of his back. There wasn’t enough of him to imagine, of course. She didn’t know what his face looked like, or his hair color. What did his eyes look like? Were they cold, like he tried to act? Or were they warm, like he really was?

When he finally sat down beside her on the bed, she said, “Can I ask you something?”

He glanced over at her, nodding once.

“What color are your eyes?”

He stared at her silence, as if considering his answer. She wondered if she was even allowed to know that; maybe he was going to lie to her.

“It’s okay if you can’t tell me. But you have to answer another question for me.”

“Ask your other question,” he murmured, looking away for a moment. “Please.”

She watched him still, unable to control the disappointment that bloomed in her chest. But she understood; it wasn’t fair of her to ask. 

“Are you still going to deliver me to my mother?”

Another bout of silence spread between the two, and she suddenly panicked, fearing that everything she felt was one sided and unrequited. That his treatment of her was simply a way to break down her walls and make her more pliable; less willing to fight. She felt tears pricking the corner of her eyes. 

But then, his bare hand took hers and she looked up at him. She hoped their eyes met; hoped she was looking into whatever warmth may be there for her. 

“No.”

———

Taglist (OPEN): @r4iner @sgt-morgan @mingeniee @darling1darling @teriolan-blog @venusfalling @double--take @sunshine96 @demisexuallover @mxtokko @ellesvoid @waddafaknik @c-ms1ut @kokoirne

[camplease]

meaning, at some point during gideon the ninth, harrow the ninth, nona the ninth, or one of the in-universe short stories, a character on page either alluded to or explicitly mentioned/feared/joked about the possibility, either present or future, of this pairing

sources:

ianthe + augustine: harrow, htn (smh harrow. allow a girlboss to try to manipulate a myriad-old lyctor with her feminine wiles in peace, please)

harrow + palamedes: gideon, htn (on one hand i hate it, on the other hand harrow would also hate it and would have a very funny reaction to hearing gideon say it so)

camilla + coronabeth: judith, as yet unsent; nona, ntn (i have questions if you voted for this but ok)

ianthe + silas: gideon, gtn (gideon was so funny for this)

pyrrha + juno: palamedes, ntn (if you voted for this i don't agree, but i understand)

g1deon + cytherea's corpse: harrow, htn (i mean, sure, maybe that was actually the case in practice, but it wasn't the Intention, so i think it counts)

palamedes + cytherea: gideon, ntn (lmao)

judith + camilla: coronabeth, as yet unsent (great work, jodybeth! masterful deflection on both sides)

ianthe + a bunch of skeletons in hell: babs - second hand, according to ianthe, htn (honestly she might enjoy this. it'd remind her of harrow at the very least)

[changingplumbob]

📩 Simblr question of the day: Choose a sim of your own that you consider your/a fave, then choose one sim from three (or more!) different simblrs, now imagine what those sims would be like in a room together? Who's walking out first? Who's staying the longest? Who would get along? Who wouldn't get along at all? Elaborate as much or as little as you'd like :) (p.s please feel free to share this to others, anon or not, and feel free to use the hashtag " SQOTD "! I love seeing everyone's answers and reading them makes my day ~ 💛 ) (p.p.s I saw you ask for the best friend ask, be on the lookout for that sometime soon :))

Oh my gosh I have so many ideas I'll have to put them under a cut!

Brunch Date

First up we're going BIG! I'm talking time to ship up every single member of the York family to go and meet the Alegria family by @matchalovertrait! Wouldn't be too massive of a trip though since we're mostly all in Tartosa.

I suspect Devin and Dulce would get along. I think Aaron would probably be a bit too pompous for Erick to maintain a conversation with. I'm guessing Noemi would probably not mind talking to Calista since they're both family and career women. Angel would probably be the one helping Joey make sure Alfred and Rilian are having fun.

Supernatural Hang out

Sending my werewolf Samir, his boyfriend Reece, and the Knightstone's to try and make friends...

They would be meeting up with Caleb and Morgan by @marcishaun, as well as Lou and Lux by @ethicaltreatmentofcowplants.

As well as Priscilla, Tony and Moumou by @eljeebee and the Bohan family by @aliengirl.

First up Moumou (who's a cat if you didn't know) would be surrounded by all the younger sims. The youngest would probably just all be sitting there making imitation cat noises. I like to think Silas would be interested to meet Carina and Orion and have a million questions about how they manage to look both human and alien at the same time.

Blue would tell Adam how he carried a pregnancy and Adam would storm off in horror for several reasons. First off Adam doesn't want more kids. Plus he's hot headed. Then of course Adam hates UFO aliens getting humans pregnant and would probably feel like the tale hits to close to home, even though Rhea and Blue made their kids with love. Suzanna however would be fascinated to learn about the process.

Priscilla would likely try to cheer up Caleb about being a vampire while Tony would probably try to impart some wisdom about being a human in love with an immortal to Morgan.

Let's be real Samir would probably sit there brooding the entire time but Reece would undoubtedly be chatting at a million miles an hour with Lou and Lex to try and learn all he could about real werewolves.

EDIT: I forgot my main point which is I think most of them would enjoy talking about plants and gardening and nature.

Animal Get Together

Cluckton would be hanging out in a park with Matilda from @sharona-sims...

Le Chat by @akitasimblr, Nougat by @kissalopa and Daisy by @lauralovelysims

They would get up to mysterious animal things

Universes Collide

Amiyah and her siblings by @deardiaryts4 are invited to the Chopra Homestead!

I would invite the other Rahul but I think things could get awkward if Amiyah's parents show up considering her Cassandra is best friends with the woman who married and then divorced Rahul...

I think Amiyah would spend the time trying to teach Savannah and Mercedes how to dance and would probably give them several make overs. Cassandra would find it fascinating to meet these alternate universe Rahul offspring where as Rahul would probably be a bit creeped out.

Casual Drinks!

Sending Joey to meet the infamous Ben Ben by @slightly-ludic for a night on the town! You know Ben needs a drink after that Jungle Adventure!

Of course we're also inviting Astrid by @simmerbeans and Stan and Milena by @stargazer-sims.

A lot of the talk would revolve around travel and what different countries are like. I think Astrid would love talking to Ben and Stan, Joey would do his best to comment on the conversation but secretly be eyeing up whatever single ladies are in the bar. Of course Joey and Ben would say some dopey stuff earning them eyerolls from the other three. I think the younger ones would benefit from time with Stan and Milena though, get some life lessons.

[morrigan-sims]

The Noble House of Lockwood

Lord Alistair Lockwood, his wife Lady Evangeline Lockwood, and their children: Silas, Byron, and Theodore Lockwood.

Lord Alistair Lockwood

Current head of the Lockwood Estate.

Wood Elf.

Extremely wealthy.

Member of the ruling council of Arborcea.

Takes great (too much) pride in his house, name, and family.

Has a short temper and is quick to bring it out on those who displease him.

Loves his [legitimate] sons, although he's not good at showing it, at least not in healthy ways.

Had an affair with a human woman ~27 years ago that resulted in Rook's birth.

One of the key players in placing Arborcea under Elven rule.

Very well-respected among the other nobles.

Stubborn and prideful, even arrogant. (His eldest son, Silas, takes after him in this regard.)

Despite his prominent place on the council, he hungers for more. More power, more wealth, more influence.

Very traditionalist/old-fashioned.

A strict father, but well-respect and even idolized by his [legitimate] sons.

Lady Evangeline Lockwood

Lady of the Lockwood Estate.

Eldest daughter of another of Arborcea's noble houses.

High Elf.

Her and Alistair's marriage was an arranged one for politics and money, not love.

Strongly begrudges Alistair for the affair that led to Rook's existence, and has not forgiven him yet. (26 years is a blink of an eye for an elf.)

Despite this, will forever and always keep up appearances of a happy and faithful couple. (Even when they are alone, she hardly ever shows her displeasure with Alistair.)

Was thrilled when Rook ran away, because it meant that there was no longer a constant reminder of her husband's infidelity and shame wandering the halls of her house.

Vain, and always fishing for compliments from everyone around her.

Cleverer than she lets on.

Her sons are her greatest love and pride. They can do (almost) no wrong in her eyes. (However, damaging the image of house Lockwood does count as wrong.)

Has tea gatherings with the other noble ladies where they talk shit about anything and anyone.

Very strict mistress to the servants and anyone in her employ.

Also a strict mother, though much more loving.

Silas Lockwood

The oldest Lockwood brother.

The closest thing to a "rebellious" kid the [legitimate] Lockwood family has.

Stereotypical "popular kid": has a ton of friends and is always the center of attention despite being a dick to most people.

Is rarely at home, usually off "adventuring" (aka, paying other people to do the real work, then let him come in and deal the final blow and taking the credit.)

Excellent fencer, but initially trained for dueling competitions for entertainment, not lethality. His style is kind of exaggeratedly showy because of this.

When he's not adventuring or dueling, he's usually in a tavern, slightly drunk and surrounded by "20 of his closest friends". (or "friends"... most of them are using him or he's using them. He's aware of this and doesn't care.)

Has his father's short temper and intense pride. Can never walk away from a fight.

Hates nothing more than losing/being humiliated.

Byron Lockwood

Middle child, often overlooked in favor of his siblings.

Most boring/practical of the kids.

Doesn't really know what he wants in life.

Doomed to always be out-shined by Silas or Theo.

Totally not bitter about it.

Currently engaged to the daughter of another noble house.

Wants to inherit the title of Lord Lockwood, and is offended that someone as irresponsible as Silas would get it.

Perfectionist. Expects the best from everyone around him at all times.

The only Lockwood kid with a "real" job. (Manages some of his father's interests in a handful of shipping companies based in Arborcea.)

Think of the stereotypical shitty boss: Greedy, ambitious, treats his underlings like tools not people.

Theodore "Theo" Lockwood

The youngest Lockwood brother.

His parents' favorite.

Mama's boy, has Lady Lockwood wrapped around his finger and he knows it.

Spoiled youngest child. Is used to getting everything he wants whenever he wants it.

Will get very upset if his desires are not met.

Has spent the last few decades attending various kind of universities for degrees in all sorts of things. (the perks of being an elf and super rich, I guess.)

When asked about his plans "after schooling", he just does a kind of vague handwave and starts rambling about "research projects", but can't give any straight answers.

Will probably end up as some kind of weird professor/research funder: Ultra wealthy, multiple PHDs, "inventor" (but really just pays people to invent things for him), more than a little bit of a jerk. All his future students will come in so thrilled to meet this famous guy who's done so much impressive shit, but end up leaving disillusioned about their idol.

Not as smart as he seems. More than possibly has paid his way through at least a few of his classes/degrees.

As an academic will almost certainly plagiarize most or all of his work.

[spearxwind]

Hi this is where I talk a bunch about ocs :D

I dont have a lot of time lately to talk abt lore but i still think abt my guys whenever i have some chill time to myself, so here's some patch notes. This is also just me thinking out loud haha

CD:

ive been playing w some changes for CD and seeing if they stick :] gonna make the story slightly more complex and the sides of the conflict also different (for example I am going to make hades and talas full on enemies at first along with connon, caval and silas >:3 (and I am also making silas and his monster form two separate characters so the lion (hal) is now a mount instead))

Specifically what I've been thinking about is making Hades either a ship captain or a first mate for a rogue ship. The deal with Hades is that he comes from a renowned family from Redbridge and is a disgrace to them. In previous versions of CD they were artisans but that never rly clicked for me, and recently I have been reworking Redbridge into a naval empire to add some 🤏spice 🤏to the world, which would mean Hades' family is actually a naval captain family putting him next in line to be one of them but since his thing is being a disgrace he takes off and becomes a rogue. And instead of hating leviathans he fucking hates hunters instead. Conversely, I think with these changes Talas would also NOT be inclined to kill hunters (or at least not as often as he currently does). He'd pick fights with the naval fleet and other similar factions instead which is more like his character.

I also wanna try and bring back an older concept I had where connon's ship was able to both become fully submerged (like the subs in sunless sea where her character originated from) and this other idea I had where a ship could split in half into two smaller ships. Like if a catamaran could split into two and flank a vessel on both sides. But we'll see if I can make this work x)

Dragons (broken horizon + extinction):

I vaguely mentioned this a while ago as well but I've also been thinking abt my dragons and how I kinda want them to all be in one world/setting, which includes both my broken horizon guys (cer, jarek, octane, etc) and my extinction guys (alex, c, orion, etc) but I dont know how to deal with all of the conflicting lore and themes.

Because for extinction the big theme is there are people who can turn into dragons, and technically all of the dragons' powers are based on energy (for lore reasons). Meanwhile for my other dragons I have a few different elements or other ways of using fire (eg instead of using straight up fire/energy, my oc Jarek can breathe out gas only and ignites it with his mandibles).

I miss all my dragons a lot so I kinda wanted to make a world for them where I could have them Vibe and do different stories in so I thought about having a dragon-only universe but unfortunately Extinction has a pretty huge human element that I cant just eliminate.

It feels counterintuitive, i know the first logical choice is 'just let them be different things' but I genuinely feel like the right choice is to put them both together so the characters can interact and the whole story can be deeper because as it is both are really shallow and I would really like for them to work together so that's what I've been picking at for some months now (it's um. been real slow)

For these two stories I do have two different vibes though that I've been wondering how to weave together nicely bc they overlap for some characters. For broken horizon I had flying and aerial racing as a big theme (and some of the chars in extinction would be rly into that) and for extinction I had dragon arena fights as a big theme (and some of the characters in bh would be rly into that) both of these is another of the reasons why I wanted to put them both together bc it feels like they can fit very well I just have to find the right idea for them to click and then itll be smooth sailing -w-

I also wanted to talk abt this in hopes that talking abt all the dragons gets me to think more about them as well

I wanted to make this post bc I've been really busy lately and rly absent from here in general and I don't have as much time to draw (or even think abt ocs) anymore but I still wanted to keep posted about what's been going on in my head and hopefully get some eyes on it and maybe even some feedback if anyone is so inclined

If u read this whole thing thank u i owe you my life fr I hope u enjoyed reading abt my patch notes :D and hopefully sometime in the future I can get back to drawing concepts and stuff or maybe even writing stuff

[no-1-rosalind-lang-apologist]

❤: Which character do you think is the most egregiously mischaracterized by the fandom?

for secret shanghai ofccc :D

Uhh hm. Ok so I don’t think that the fandom on here mischaracterizes any of the characters horribly. (At least not since all of the books have been out.)

But in general (mostly based on tiktok/instagram/goodreads)…

I think people ignore the complexities of Juliette’s character a bit and just paint her as a girlboss knifewife TM.

I’ve also seen people misread Roma as a bland cardboard cutout YA love interest TM. Which is. Not correct.

I have seen people who thought Benedikt and Marshall were straight and shipped them with Rosalind and Celia. Which is just completely baffling to me. Because how.

Then I’ve also seen some pretty weird biphobic mischaracterizations of Orion and generally some pretty shallow reads of his character that I don’t love.

Pre fhh I definitely mischaracterized Oliver a bit. And I guess we do kind of make a couple tiny details of his character his entire personality now. But I don’t think it’s really genuine mischaracterization since I don’t think anyone genuinely sees him like that.

Ik I also mischaracterized Silas a bit pre fhh since I wasn’t expecting him to be such a driving force in the plot or for him to stand up for himself like he did. I don’t know that every characterization of him I’ve seen since fhh necessarily reflects that, but it was also something that he character developmented into so I wouldn’t say it’s a mischaracterization exactly.

Not mischaracterization exactly but I have seen people who didn’t realize Celia was trans? Which isn’t bad because if you’re not reading super closely it can be easy to miss at first. But I don’t love it when people still call her by her dead sister’s name post OVE.

We thought Phoebe was taller than she actually is since she’s described as short in flf but I’m not sure that Chloe Gong actually knows how tall any of the characters are either. So. Oh well.

My irl friend thought Phoebe and Silas were both straight?????

I’ve seen people call Silas boring and clingy and say that he needs to set boundaries. The first two are incorrect. That is a declarative statement because I’m right. The last one is perplexing because he did?? He literally put Phoebe in jail???

I think Alisa’s grief maybe gets glossed over a little bit, but honestly I don’t think it’s covered in the books (more flf than fhh) as much as it could be.

This is more my interpretation so I don’t know that this counts as mischaracterization exactly, but now that I think about it, I really don’t think Phoebe cares about fashion or anything adjacent to that that gets ascribed to her sometimes. I think the vast majority of that is the front that she’s putting on. I think this can be seen in the state of her room when Alisa starts digging through her stuff in fhh and also how she refers to what she’s wearing as “frivolous” in the flf epilogue.

This isn’t really an answer but oh well.

[witchofthesouls]

OH MY STARS! WE TOTALLY NEED SOME WRITING OF BIRB JACK WITH SOUNDWAVE. :000

More AU of a Cyber!Earth!Au with the Darbys directly under Soundwave’s care.

The being that was once June Darby was a dangerous creature.

That ferity hadn't disappeared once he managed to coax her out of that endless dream. Within her, old human sensibilities of civilian life and civilization warred with the new instincts that were capable of devouring everything in its path.

Nor had Soundwave wanted to suppress those instincts fully. To tame them. No; it would serve them both well among the Decepticons and the strange, new world they were navigating. They needed to simply nurture the bridge and guide the process. Ease it.

The inhibition collar had done little to quell the microtransformations as she armed the edges of her robes with serrations, masking it with a deceptive gentleness as the sparklings hid by her legs whenever one of the more foolish mechs attempted anything.

(If anyone was stupid enough to think that June Darby was any less dangerous in a femme root-mode. That the collar was enough after her rampage across the ship as she hunted after her stolen child. It was their own passage to the Unmaker.)

Her son, Jack, echoed it.

Optics blown wide with the white pupil mechanisms drowned out everything else, the sparkling's frame shifted and rippled between the metal of shadowed hull and his own physical body as he mimicked the crooning birds perched upon his shoulder.

Croaking and chattering. A mix between organic ruffling feathers with metal plates sliding and soft transformation seams. It was difficult to discern between the sparkling and the birds. Only the multiple optics popped out of the seamless blend.

In the gleam of those dark, shiny optics, Soundwave saw the reflection of that strange robed figure.

Jack's mouth moved, but it wasn't words, just a spill of noise. Not even birdsong or a close mimicry. A mix of pattering rain, distant rolling thunder, and a gentle breeze through swaying branches.

The boy met his visor and seared into his mind was yellow robes standing within a clearing where many of the mining operations had disappeared. Something writhing behind them, dissected limbs with peeled musculature and fuel lines neatly entwined with one of the metal trees.

Soundwave quietly filed away the abomination that was Silas. Breakdown's paintjob, no matter the degradation, was a custom one by Knock Out's hands.

The spymaster kneeled down. He ignored the hissing birds as they ruffled up. What mattered was Jack's reaction, and Soundwave had poured so much work into ensuring his charge was comfortable in his presence. A careful prod to allow their EM fields to overlap. Jack didn't pull away as Soundwave anchored into his space, circling the sharp, bizarre notes as the birds became more distressed.

Jack's main attention was pinned to the distant figure calling for him (and his mother), but a small part still focused on Soundwave.

"Jack." Soundwave played out the haunting recording of June's many-layered voices of her monstrous alt-mode. "Jack. Jack. Jack. Where are you?"

The sparkling finally blinked. Connection severing. That grey-blue hue returned as he tentatively stepped into Soundwave's reach. He ignored the shrill squawking and crash of teeth and data-cables as Soundwave crushed the blackbirds and their foreign influence as Jack curled into his hold. Like a puppet with severed strings.

Luminosity hissed from the corner before barreling over, clambering across Soundwave's back-plating as she pushed her own quelling danger senses into them. She spoke in rapid squeaks and chirps, punctuated with hard flaps of her wingspan as Jack pressed himself deeper into Soundwave's hug. His mind jumbled in strange breaks as Jack attempted to reorder himself, and Soundwave gently reinforced the lowered mental defenses, sweeping away the scent of ashes and the boiling-freezing imprints.

Of course, the birds weren't real. Even with his speed and the sensation of crushing them, Soundwave felt only the walls of the ship.

[youeverjustmarryabountyhunter]

Recently became obsessed with cowboy au's again so I did what any reasonable person would do and made a silly Clone Wars au for pure self indulgence.

Please enjoy my silly little headcannons and maybe one day I'll actually write the thing (I've said this several times before...but one day!)

•Usually with modern au's I try to justify why Jango has so many damn kids but not this time. The man just does okay? Also he's not attracted to women so like..who knows! My favorite plot point is Jango just has a bunch of kids and no one knows why and they just have to accept that

•Jango/Myles supremacy. They're married, thank you. Silas is their third wheel that's just always sorta there.

•Good dad Jango! Always good dad Jango. I just love him okay? It's like a little treat for myself.

•Ages are like...semi...cannon? For the clones the alphas are all adults, as are the commanders. After that, Rex, Kix, Jesse and whoever else I deem to be in that like age range- are 18/19/20. Domino squad, are teenagers. Tup, Dogma, Wooley, Comet are like..ranging from preteen's to 8. Boba is the baby at 3 years old. Don't ask me about Omega or the bad batch please I haven't decided what I'm doing with them yet, probably gonna make them Arla's kiddos like the other modern au of mine. These are also like..just a general guidelines of ages I haven't really fleshed anything out.

•Boba LOVES animals. It's a good thing they live on a farm. He just..befriends all of the animals even the ones that he isn't supposed to (raccoons) Jango nearly had a heart attack. Boba was fine though, just a little grumpy that Jango took him away from the raccoon.

•It's a miracle Boba knows how to walk because he's just constantly being carried/demanding to be carried. If he has the option to be in someone's arms he will be. Spoiled little thing. Honestly all of the Fett kids are probably spoiled, but they like to tease Boba about it cause he's the baby.

•Real talk though, I think Boba is a little sweety. He just loves his aliit(family) so much and wants to spend all his time with them.

•Mando'a is a language because I said so. Mandalorians are still a culture. That's just my go to for all modern au's tbh.

•Jaster is the best grandpa EVER. He's the reason they're all spoiled. Auntie Zam ALSO spoils them rotten. Uncle Bossk does as well it's just a lot less. Hondo...is Hondo let's be honest here. They're spoiled sure but Jango would really like to know WHERE Hondo got everything from (he would not like the answer)

•I haven't figured out how or anything but Codywan IS happening. Same with Blyla (is that Aayla and Bly's ship name?? Gonna pretend it is-)

•In the vain of keeping ages semi cannon Fennec is 19 and a farmhand 👌. She's like..not legally adopted but she might as well be. Jango's baby girl right there. Boba follows her around like a puppy and it only annoys her a little. She's definitely the reason he knows bad words let's be honest.

•I'm leaning towards most face tattoos are just birthmarks. As far as names go those are just their names. No one ever said Jango was good at naming things. Isn't there a comic in legends where they have a pet eel and it's name is just eel?

•Everything I know about 3 year olds comes from the times I have babysat actually 3 year olds and google. So in that spirit, Boba does have a paci in the art depicted below simple because I wanted to draw a pacifier- but Jango is also trying to ween him off it so he doesn't mess up his teeth.

If you made it this far through the post- have some traditional art that may or may not get turned digital eventually! (There was one of Myles and Jango but I literally cannot decide on Myles hairstyle and couldn't erase it anymore for fear of ripping the paper so...)

This au has consumed me like..ugh I'm obsessed with it. There may or may not be a pinterest board just entirely dedicated to it. You don't understand how in love with this silly little au I am-

Join me next time (maybe-) for when I inevitably think of more headcannons for this au.

In order: Jango and Boba, Jango braiding Fennec's hair, and Cody!