#SS Vessel

[midseo]

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[summertimemusician]

Unenlighted: Sky and Wild don't have that good of a relationship due to Sky's guilt and Wild not feeling he's good enough when compared to any of his predecessors because he failed the kingdom once and it gets exacerbated by the events of TOTK, similar case with Flora and Sun.

Enlightened: Sky and Wild have a pretty good relationship, but it's still strained because of both their problems and the strain grows bigger after TOTK when Fi breaks, Sun likes Flora just fine as a descendant while Flora is incessantly tormented by the fact she always believed her entire life she'd never measure up to the other Zelda's because she couldn't fulfill her duty anymore than Wild could, and it causes communication.

Ascended: Sky and Twilight having a full blow custody war in the back because they both see Wild as a better successor than he believes himself to be due to the parallels to BOTW, TOTK and Skyward Sword even though it's technically Twilight Princess' spiritual sucessor (since it was originally made to be a sequel to that game) and Sky and Wild both get along well with one another, and instead of getting angry at Wild for breaking Fi he's more so worried for him and her equally (and then has to be held back by the rest of the Chain along with Twi to not eviscerate whatever's left of Ganondorf's body) meanwhile Sun all but surprise adopted Flora as a sister and is super supportive of all her pursuits and number one hype woman because she was as unhinged as her at her age and Flora is flabbergasted but really really happy and relieved she doesn't see her as a disappointment or anything and they get along like the sister she never had growing up. Specially since they can both bond over not being quite regular humans anymore and can help one another deal and learn more about it.

I will not elaborate.

[spockvarietyhour]

Columbia has a somewhat bigger dish than Enterprise

[whatsfourteenupto]

I love my job I’m not gonna quit my job over a tv show I love my job I love my job I will not turn down this trip I will not I love

[oceanlinersmodeller]

SS Nomadic posed alongside with my Revell 1/600 scale RMS Titanic model.

[is-silksongggg-released-yet]

Silksong's not released yet

Hornet met Aiyra, my vessel oc, while she's waitin'

[rabbitcruiser]

The SS Savannah left port at Savannah, Georgia, on May 22, 1819, on a voyage to become the first steamship to cross the Atlantic Ocean.

[jaysteels]

Jay Steel Corporation is leading manufacturers, suppliers and exporters of Nickel , Titanium and Stainless steel product.

[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.

[shane-west]

APRIL 14th 1912 - TITANIC HITS THE ICEBURG

During the course of the day, the Titanic was sent numerous warnings about the iceberg from other vessels, the first warning sent from the Caronia at 9.00am. A total of five warnings were sent . On the same day the first scheduled lifeboat drill was cancelled by Captain Edward Smith without explanation - meaning that the crew were unrehearsed in what to do when the time came. At 5.50pm Titanic changes course from south west to due west. This was originally planned to occur at 5.30pm but was delayed to allow Titanic to travel further south in an attempt to avoid the ice region reported by the Baltic. This change should have directed the Titanic into an area of the gulf stream that would be free of icebergs; in any normal year this would be the case, but 1912 was not a normal year for ice – cold water had pushed the warm gulf stream further south – and the change in direction actually put the ship on a collision course with the iceberg.

At 9.40pm Senior Wireless Operator Jack Phillips receives the fifth and final ice warning, from the SS Mesaba, warning of a “great number” of large icebergs and field ice just 15 miles ahead of the Titanic. Because the message was not prefixed with MSG – the signifier that the communique was intended for the captain – Phillips treated it as non-urgent, failed to pass the message on, and returned to the busy task of sending passengers’ personal telegrams.

At 11.39pm The iceberg lies just 1,000 yards ahead, but the moonless conditions mean the lookouts cannot see it. 30 seconds later and Frederick Fleet spots the iceberg, calling the bridge to proclaim, “Iceberg, right ahead!”, but it is too late to avoid a collision. At 11.40pm Titanic hits the iceberg, hitting the starboard bow. Many passengers and crew sleep through the collision whilst many others – including lookout man Fleet – assume the ship has survived a glancing blow and is undamaged.

[ja3hwa]

♡ 𝐎𝐧𝐞 𝐖𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐂𝐨𝐬𝐦𝐨𝐬 | 𝐖𝐨𝐨𝐬𝐚𝐧 ♡

DAY ELEVEN SPECIAL - WOOSAN X ALIEN AU

【Synopsis】 : Travelling in deep space, you and your crew must deliver and pick up cargo to a jump station. Woosan is to accompany you on this mission. San being the muscle and Woo as the navigator and scientists...problem? You got lost.

『Word count』 :  3.56k

-> Genre: Suggestive. Fluff. Lil angsty. 18+

Pairing: Alien!Woosan x Human!Reader

[Warnings] : Blood. Wounds. Getting injured. Crashing. Angst and loneliness. Fighting. Yelling. Name calling. Tender moment. Kissing. Making out. Hickies. Blood play-ish. Pet names. Kinda getting caught.

Note: My first Day of @whatudowhennooneseesyou 's cute kinktober list. Please make sure to check out all the other fantastic writers who have also joined this event ♡

Networks: @illusionnet @atzhouse @wonderlandnet @cromernet @k-vanity

Masterlist | Navigation | Kinktober List | Tip Jar ♡

The SS Blackheart glided through the endless expanse of space. The bulky vessel was made with advanced technology from the Theslian junction in the Redshift seven galaxy. The ship could be manned by a max of eight or as little as three people, being a perfect ship for cargo and transportation.

You were the ship's captain, a seasoned pilot, trained in the best academy in all eight galaxies. You were strategic and fierce with your flying, ranking top in your class. Your higher-ups assigned you to deliver special plants to a high-tech lab in the Cassophrea galaxy. Gazing out into the sea of stars from the comfort of your command chair, you revelled in the solitude you had in the cockpit. Alone, unbothered. Just you and the cosmos. It was supposed to be a straightforward journey, just a pickup and drop off. But fate had other plans.

As the ship passed the boundary of a dense asteroid field a sudden gravitational burst rolled blackheart and a loud crash came following. So much for you and the cosmos. The alarm bells sirened and you screamed out a loud, “Now, What?!” standing up from your seat. You pull on the large metal handle in front of you before you pull a holographic screen with schematics of the hull of the ship. “Divert all extra power to the shields! Cut off from the west and east wings.”

A staggering jolt caused you to lose balance for a moment as you prepared for the ship to tumble through any of the rogue asteroids. Times like this you were thankful for the gravity lock in the cockpit as the ship spun wildly, you were lucky not to feel too much of the sporadic movements. A ring ran through your station as you noticed a red dot on the screen heading straight towards you at almost light speed but before you could do anything to stop it, darkness enveloped the entire ship.

When you finally came to, you found yourself in the med-bay, your head pounding and your ears ringing. You felt like a freight train had hit you square in the face. There was a faint smell of burning rubber and crackling wires and circuitries filling the air and a foggy voice calling for you. “Captain…Captain!” The voice was shaky, filled with worry. It was your scientist and navigator Jung Wooyoung, his thick pitch black hair was slicked back with his glasses high on his nose. You could see his bright purple eyes were a sparkling contrast to his pale green skin as they widened with a mix of concern and relief. 

“W-Wooyo?” You croaked, holding your head while you struggled to sit up. “What happened?”

“We hit something, ma’am,” San spoke quickly as he came tumbling into the room. He was quickly glancing around as if to confirm the chaos outside had tried to come in. "We hit a circumstellar belt. It seems we might have gotten lost while the ship was on auto."

With the ship systems down, there was no navigation. The worried look in Sans pitch black starry night eyes made you deathly aware that you were now adrift in some uncharted sector of space. You had to gulp at the dangerous possibilities in front of you. You watched the engineer, Choi San, open a main frame panel with a calm demeanour. His soothing presence in the midst of uncertainty was giving you a mixture of hope and pending doom. But there was no time to show fear, no.

You took charge, your natural leadership role creeping its way to your forefront. "Get the emergency systems up and running. We need to communicate with mission control. We'll be okay on o2 with the backup filters. But we need to get a distress call out as soon as possible."

Both men were on it before you could finish your sentence. They were just as determined as you to fix the issues at hand. But once San had the backup generators going and Wooyoung had successfully gotten a call out. Your next step was to wait and who knew how long that might take. 

The first few days were rough, San was the one mostly running around trying to repair any damage that was left from the attack of space rocks. Wooyoung spent them in his lab, working on the mission logs and paperwork. And you, well given your leg, was still healing it seemed like you never left your bed. Days then moved to a week, and isolation started to become a worry.

The Blackheart drifted further away from known star maps. You had a distress beacon running but the downside was you could only have it on for a few minutes every day to conserve power. You had moved to your captain's chair soon after day five, having grown restless of the four walls of your bedroom. It seemed like the only companions at times were the stars and the growing tension between you and the two aliens.

You have always known them to be attractive in their own ways. You had noticed Wooyoung had such soft delicate details of stripes on his pale skin. The mixture of different shades of greens left you amazed. Not to mention the contrast to his jet-black hair and deep purple eyes. Eyes that always showed kindness and curiosity.

And then there was San. His dark eyes made you think you were looking at a vast galaxy in his gaze. His dark crimson skin was also covered in oil or dirt from whatever he had been working on that day. He was a hard worker, and passionate in everything he did. The long nights and endless days you three had spent together over the week and a half may have been rough at first, but it soon became a sea of laughter that filled the endless silence of space. 

You would have never admitted it before this endeavour, but you had always been drawn to your little crew finding a sense of passion lurking beneath professionalism. Wooyoung's humour and San's creativity added bright spots to the darkness of the predicament you were in. They shared stories, the warmth of their camaraderie blossoming into something deeper and more complex. It frightened you slightly, curious if they had felt this feeling prior like you did or if was it because of forced proximity that they had sparked the new feelings.

One night, after a particularly challenging day of repairs, Wooyoung suggested settling in the ship's observation deck for the evening. Dining among the stars, as he put it. San was thrilled with the idea, even though he did try to keep his tough guy act, Wooyoung, and you brought the softness out of him. Stars twinkled like distant dreams, and you felt a pang of longing mixed with something undeniable. Something that had grown beautifully when around them.

“It’s beautiful out here,” San said, his voice soft. “It makes you realise how small we really are.” 

Wooyoung nodded in agreement before walking over to the table, getting it ready for dinner. You, however, couldn't help but sigh thickly through your nose. Your eyes were wide, gazing at the clusters around you in the endless black. You all were really so small.

San could see your expression change, so he nudged you playfully with a bright smile. "Hey, it also just shows how lucky we are to be lost together." 

You chuckled lightly, but something about San's words seemed to resonate with you. You watched out of the corner of your eye as San walked over to Wooyoung, helping him set the table. You gazed between both of them with admiration and concern, your arms wrapping around your middle, hugging yourself. Wooyoung looked over at you with a tilt in his head, noticing your change in mood. So, like Wooyoung fashion, he clapped his hands together with a proud smile. "Who is ready for dinner!"

You walked over to the table, eyeing all the food. It was only when Wooyoung put a gentle hand on your back comfortingly that you got out of your own thoughts, "We'll find our way back. Someone will come." He said, trying to instil any kind of hope, but the air was thick with a mixture of worry and unspoken feelings. 

More time passed, and more sleepless nights led to a sudden shift in the dynamic from simple friends to something more intimate. There were lingering glances, soft touches, and moments of vulnerability shared beneath the glow of distant stars. It wasn’t long before you found yourself caught in a whirlwind of emotions. You had fallen for both aliens, and you couldn't stop your heart from aching at the thought of choosing. Even if one of them had feelings that similarly matched yours, how would either react to you having feelings for the other?

And one evening, during a really heated discussion, tension peaked in the cockpit. “You can't just come in here and touch the panel you know what!” You yell over San who had been chewing your ass off about the repairs and now he thought it was a good idea to mess with the captain's controls.

“You were busy and I only touched it for a second i don't understand why you’re getting so mad.” San scoffed passing around the room.

“You don..ha... You can’t just… you’re lucky I had the control on auto otherwise you would have sent the ship into a lockdown!! The controls are connected to my print. Me. Not you. If the ship noticed the different DNA we would be dead by now but you were being too thick-headed to see that!!!” You didn’t mean to call him thickheaded but it slipped out in the heat of anger.

San’s heart was already racing from being around you and now doing something stupid had caused you to become mad at him. He didn't like when you were mad. “Yn, just…” He pinched his nose with his clawed fingers.

“Just what huh? What?” Now you were looking for a fight, closing the gap between both of you. You were significantly smaller than him, given you were only a mere human and typically your kind would fear such a creature like San but you didn’t. You could never fear him. “Answer me you lug!!” You shoved him.

You were no longer mad at him for touching the panel, in fact, you weren't that mad with him to begin with. But being around these two for so long while slowly losing all hope that anyone would ever come save you, all the tension started to get too much. Too much to the point, you could no longer breathe. So you shove him again and tears start to prick on the corners of your eyes. You shove him again and you feel your body begin to vibrate. You shove him again and again…and… “S-san…” your forehead landed on his chest as you sobbed in his arms... You gave up.

“Shhh… it’s okay...I'm sorry. I'm just...” he stroked your hair gently, holding you tight. There was a lump in his throat while watching your outburst making him now fully aware of what was actually wrong. You nuzzled into him, a sting of guilt on your tongue. He was warm, comforting. Your heart couldn't help but swoon and break one in the same.

“I’m in love with you.” You whispered, frozen with fear. It was out in the open now. San’s hand stopped its strokes as he looked down at your form completely dumbfounded from what you had said. You love him? You? The most bravest and fearless captain was in love with someone like him…

“You love me…” He said unsure. Neither of you wanted to move first, instead, you nuzzled further into him staining his shirt with your tears.

“Yes… both of you. I tried hiding it. But after getting lost, it’s become too hard to keep…” Words began to spill out of you, like vomit. You hated how San could make you feel like you could say anything. “I’m sorry.”

San almost wanted to laugh at this scenario. Of course, you love both of them. He and Wooyoung were so busy pining that they didn't even realise you could reciprocate the same feelings. He chuckled, hugging you tighter before picking you up to swing you around. "San!!"

You screamed as his laughter got louder. You held onto the large alien for dear life, confusion riddling you. "San! Why are we spinnnninnggg!!!!"

He finally stopped tugging you by your shoulders to stare at him. "It's because I’m so in love with you too. We both are. Oh my god, we have to tell Wooyoung." 

"Wait...wa..San!!" You yelped as San picked you up, helping you wrap his arms around you. He finger tucked your hair out of your face with a gentle smile staring at you with complete devotion. 

"I'm so in love with you." He repeated, making you blush. Who knew this cold, brooding alien had such a soft interior. 

"I...I love you too." You felt another tear fall down your most likely dishevelled face. Slowly, San leaned in closer, his face inches from yours.

"Say that again...please," he whispered.

"I love you." Your breath tickled his face, his mouth parting as he felt his lips brush against yours.

"Again." 

Your eyes flutter closed, "I love you, San." His mouth found yours, locking tightly as he held your body closer. His legs started to move until he found one of the desks that sat in the middle of the cockpit, brushing anything that was on top of it so he could place you on it. His long, serpent-like tongue brushes against your bottom lip, making you shiver before pulling away with a moan, "W-what about Wooyoung."

"What about me, hmm." Both you and San's heads snap to the door, seeing a smiley green alien with his arms crossed over his chest. He couldn't help but chuckle pointing to the camera above him, "I saw everything just by the way."

Your face heated up, feeling embarrassment paint you red. Of course, he saw your little meltdown. You whined, hiding in San's chest again. This caused both aliens to laugh lightly. "Hey, It's okay, darling."

"Still..." You pouted as San pulled your face up by your chin. His smile was loving as he gently pushed your shoulder until you leaned back to feel Wooyoung's large chest behind you. You suddenly became very aware that you were sandwiched between two large aliens on a desk.

"Do I get an I love you Dollface?" Wooyoung's growl next to your ear made you jump slightly, slamming your hands on the sleek white table, looking up to see his smug face. Your wide doe-like eyes made Wooyoung's cock twitch against your back, making you bite your lip. 

"I love you, Wooyoung." 

His groan was music to your ears, his hands coming down to hold your waist, tugging you closer to him, nuzzling his face in the crook of your neck. "Such a perfect captain."

"Hey, don't hog." San pouted, grabbing your legs to spread them wider so he could lean over the table, caging your smaller body.

"Hog? Says the one that was about to fuck her without me." Wooyoung scoffed, nipping at your skin. You just laid there and moaned, letting them have control. It was odd in a way that you've never given up control in any situation before, but yet with these two, it was like they naturally brought this side out of you. They kept bickering, their hands wondering your figure as they did so. San’s hands found their way to your upper thigh, squeezing the soft flesh gently while Wooyoung’s started to play with the buttons of your captain's shirt, tugging each one open without needing to look. It was only when a small gasp left your lips that both aliens seemed to snap their gazes back on you rather than one another. “Oh, I'm so sorry darling..”

San retracts his claws from your plump skin, seeing little beads of blood trickle from the tiny wounds. He did not mean for his arousal to go unnoticed to himself, he felt terrible. But you on the other hand couldn’t help but shiver, gaining pleasure in the little sting. “It’s okay…M-my thighs are just really sensitive.” 

Your pants drew a smile from Wooyoung as he kissed along your neck, “Sensitive huh? I wonder what other body parts of yours are that sensitive.” Woooung cupped your breasts through your half-opened shirt, squeezing tightly while his slender fingers rubbed over your clothed nipples. Your head fell back into his pelvis, moaning at the sensation. It was like your body was on fire, and both of them were only fueling it. “You sound so pretty dollface.”

San fell to his knees without your notice, his face inches from where he had hurt you. His long tongue snaked out of his mouth before lapping up the blood, cleaning the wound in the process. The feeling sent shivers down your spine as your hand immediately flew to his hair, tugging hard on his soft locks. “Fuck…San.”

San chuckled, inching closer to your covered pussy. Licking, biting and kissing any skin you could, leaving a trail of bright purple marks in his wake. Wooyoung got to work, pulling your shirt off your shoulders, letting the fabric bunch around your waist. His fingers found the straps to your bra, effortlessly cutting them with his sharp claws. He watched in awe as your tits spring free, watching them bounce while your nipples harden to the cold air. He wasted no time, pushing you firmly against the desk, making you lie down fully so he could lean over to latch his mouth to your plump tits. You felt Sans's nose brush against your folds as he took a deep inhale growling at the scent. “You smell so delicious, baby. I could eat you right up.”

Any normal human would find his remark terrifying but your body shook as you bucked your hips pleadingly, almost begging him to keep that promise. But before he could rip your pants to shreds a loud alarm sounded, causing you all to jump. “What the fuck?!” Wooyoung cried, covering his pointed ears.

You sat up, adjusting your shirt while throwing your tatted bra to the side. San helped you off the desk so you could waddle to the captain's chair. Looking at the screens you noticed a large red dot just two clicks on the right to the vessel. It was the motion sensor going off for another ship. A rescue and retrieval ship to be exact. “They found us…”

“They found us?!” San grabbed the screen, turning it to his direction while you gazed through the thick glass watching the ship fly in front of you. And a ring showed up on the empty motor to your right, distracting you. You clicked a few buttons before a caller screen showed. You could see your other two crew mates that were assigned to a different sector. Mingi and Yeosang. Their smiles were bright, filled with nothing but relief.

“They have such perfect timing.” Wooyoung sighed, adjusting his pants before leaning over the top of your chair. “You could have waited thirty more minutes?”

“Oh I'm sorry, do you not need your asses rescued?” Yeosang scoffed through the screen with an eye roll.

“NO! Yes, we do. Don't listen to him, he's uh…” You feel yourself redden at the memory of what was happening not only two minutes ago. San laughed while taking the holo-screen, letting him see his friends. 

“He’s upset ‘cause he's horny, doesn't mind him. Park on the left west wing. The other ports have been put outta commission due to the damage.” San nodded as Mingi gave him a roger that before hanging up. Yeosang couldn’t help but laugh.

“So…” You gulped, the silence feeling way too loud.

“So what is my love?” San helped you stand giving you a forehead kiss. You felt Wooyoung grab your hips lovingly, standing behind you.

“What now?” You gaze at both of them, worry filling you that they had only done all this and confessed love because you had no more hope. But now that hope has arrived, where did that leave you? Wooyoung gently grabbed your chin, tilting your head upwards to face him;

“Now, we get the fuck out of here. Get home, do those ungodly awful reports and then.” He inched closer, whispering, “Then we go home so San and I can fuck your brains out.”

“Way to sound romantic, Woo.” San scoffed a laugh but before you could say anything Wooyoung sealed his lips against you, swallowing a little gasp as he held you tight. You relished in the feeling just for a moment, knowing it was time to leave your little bubble and no matter where you all end up and what adventures life would bring. You had each other now and nothing else mattered.

not even for a moment, being rescued.

—

© 𝐉𝐚𝟑𝐡𝐰𝐚. Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, repost, or use my work in any way, shape, or form.

𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐂𝐋𝐀𝐈𝐌𝐄𝐑 : 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑁 𝑁𝑂 𝑊𝐴𝑌 𝐴 𝑇𝑅𝑈𝐸 𝐷𝐸𝑃𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝑂𝐹 𝑇𝐻𝐸 𝐴𝑇𝐸𝐸𝑍 𝑀𝐸𝑀𝐵𝐸𝑅𝑆. 𝑇𝐻𝐼𝑆 𝐼𝑆 𝑃𝑈𝑅𝐸 𝐹𝐼𝐶𝑇𝐼𝑂𝑁 𝐴𝑁𝐷 𝐼𝑆 𝑁𝑂𝑇 𝑇𝑂 𝐵𝐸 𝑇𝐴𝐾𝐸𝑁 𝑆𝐸𝑅𝐼𝑂𝑈𝑆𝐿𝑌.

[lizardthelizard]

[ltwilliammowett]

The wreck of the Josephine Willis

The Josephine Willis, a packet ship launched in 1854, undertook a voyage to New Zealand under the command of Captain Edward Canney. During the voyage, there was an attempted mutiny by the crew. Twelve crew members deserted in Auckland, while others were dismissed in Calcutta on the return voyage. However, the second voyage, which started on 1 February 1856, was interesting. With a crew of 44 and 66 passengers, the ship again travelled to New Zealand. The ship had various general cargoes on board, including a large quantity of utility ceramics destined for the emigrant market in New Zealand.

The sinking of the Josephine Willis (x)

The ship was first towed to Margate Sands by a steam tug before sailing on to the Downs. After reaching South Foreland, the Josephine Willis travelled down the English Channel and at 20:10 a light was sighted. It was believed to be the Dungeness lighthouse and the helm was put to starboard. However, the light belonged to an approaching steamer, the SS Mangerton, an iron-hulled screw steamer en route from Limerick to London. The Mangerton struck the Josephine Willis just forward of the main mast on the starboard side and is said to have cut the ship in half. Some of the crew and passengers were able to climb aboard the Mangerton, while others escaped in the ship's boats. However, it happened that the two ships involved did nothing to rescue the other passengers, which is why the captains responsible were later held responsible and sentenced for reckless behaviour. During the incident, however, the Josephine Willis later capsised and sank. Between 69 and 70 people lost their lives in the accident, including Captain Canney.

3D image of the 'Josephine Willis' wreck (x)

Dives were quickly undertaken to salvage the passengers' cargo and luggage. Amongst other things, a mahogany chest containing the ship's board and Captain Canney's personal belongings were recovered and handed over to his widow. Salvage work on the wreck continued until 1861.

Ceramics in situ (x)

The wreck was rediscovered by divers in approximately 2018. Diving investigation revealed that a large quantity of the ceramic cargo was still in situ. The ceramic assemblage is principally comprised of wares from three Staffordshire based potteries - Mexborough, Charles Meigh, and Davenport. Several of the ceramic types discovered are unknown in current museum collections, or have previously only been seen in the form of wasters.

Recovered ceramics (x)

Interpretation of geophysical data indicates that the full length of the vessel survives in situ, with a maximum length of 46m, and a maximum width of 10-11m, which is consistent with the known dimensions of the vessel. A potential vertical break in the hull is located approximately halfway along the wreck mound. This corresponds with the position which the Mangerton was reported to have collided with the Josephine Willis. It would appear that the wreck has broken it's back and the remaining structure lies in two halves.

Recovered toys and caramics (x)

[anzynai]

Oh, are requests open? Weeell, maybe a little something with the Leech twins and lee!reader (platonic), if you're okay with it? 👉🏻👈🏻✨

Have a nice day Jai <3

Two Times the Trouble

Jade & Floyd & Reader (Twisted Wonderland)

a/n: ANON I LOVE U SO MUCH FOR THIS. i love this request!!! anyways i did pour my heart onto this fic!! i struggled a little more that i thought i would?? the idea was a bit difficult but i think i made it work! this is the first request from the batch of TWST requests ive received (a long time ago, unfortunately, but im choosing to blame it on the fact i was doing my SS fic..) so sorry the request took forever but at least its here now LOL hope u enjoy!! ALSO FIRST FIC FOR THE NEW YEAR LETS GO

summary: when floyd learns of your ticklishness, you are already on edge around him. you didn’t know you had to be wary of his twin, too.

word count: 1.5k

——

You might be in trouble. You might really be in trouble.

It all started just a few minutes earlier. You were in class, minding your own business! Of course, Floyd was in the class, but so was Jade. Azul.. was not, and the only reason you noticed because somehow the three of them were almost always together, unless they weren’t..?

Anyway, Floyd usually only interacted with Jade or Riddle, if he was in the mood for teasing the housewarden. He didn’t really talk to you all that much.

So obviously, you were surprised when he apparently had decided to change his target for the day to you, plopping down in the seat next to you. Grim often sat there and you could hear his protests, but Floyd either didn’t hear or pretended not to. Eventually, Grim grumbled and just moved to sitting on top of your desk. He was small enough.

“What’s up, Shrimpy?” Floyd drawled, a small grin on his face, showing his spiky teeth. It must be a Moray thing, you thought offhandedly.

“Oh, hey, Floyd.” You greeted him back with a small smile. Mostly out of politeness because you had no idea what he was doing there.

“M’ bored. Jade won’t entertain me. And Goldfishie’s not here.” He sighed, sadly, though, it did not sound genuine at all.

“That sounds annoying.” You said, but you start focusing your attention away from him and to Professor Trein, who began speaking. And… you really didn’t want to get on his bad side.

“Yeah, you get it, Shrimpy. That’s why you’re gonna entertain me today!” Floyd grinned, a large toothy smile, almost like an innocent child.

“Am I?” You asked, though it was more of a “response” than a question. You looked down at your notebook, jotting down notes as Trein lectured, pouting when you saw Grim snoozing away. Usually, Trein noticed right away, but he seemed very invested in his lecture today.

“Mhm!” Floyd said, slowly, before he decided to try annoying you. From taking away your notebook so you couldn’t write it down, from kicking your chair, from grabbing every little thing he could get his hands on. You began feeling pity for Riddle. You had always thought he was exaggerating, but you swore you could feel yourself popping a blood vessel every two seconds.

Suddenly, Floyd decided that stealing your items were too boring and he resorted to poking you instead. Again. And again. And again.

“Would you sto-AH!” You tried whispering but then he poked a spot on your side and you couldn’t hold back your squeal.

“Everything alright over there?” Trein asked, seemingly annoyed that his class was disrupted.

“I—uh yeah!” You stuttered out, embarrassed as everyone turned towards the two of you. You glanced over, hoping that Floyd didn’t notice, but the scary grin on his face told you otherwise. For the rest of class, he kept poking your side and you found yourself unable to focus on the lesson, trying your hardest not to giggle.

“I’m gonna squeeze ya!” Floyd exclaimed, though a bit quietly. When the bell rang, you were the first one out the door.

You didn’t notice that Jade had been watching the two of you the entire time.

——

“Floyd, leave me alone!” You shrieked, running around the mostly empty lounge. You decided to get a quick snack from there since you were about to dive headfirst into an all-night study session for the Alchemy test coming up and you figured that making sure you weren’t hungry would.. help.

It was supposed to be in and out. Quick and easy.

It was not in and out.

Floyd was clearly still interested by his discovery, which even you had thought he had forgotten about. Really, he got bored of most things so quickly so why not now!?

So brings you to the present, him chasing you, wiggling his fingers menacingly and you running as far from him as you can. Azul sighed, used to Floyd’s antics.

“Just don’t mess up the lounge… or you’ll be cleaning it all by yourself.” He said, before walking away and into the kitchen.

You, on the other hand, ran towards Jade, who had been watching you guys with amusement. He seemed like he was wondering whether he should continue watching or help you and well, you decided it for him.

“Jade, help!” You exclaim, ducking behind him and using him as cover. You guys hopefully seemed friends enough to be able to do this, so you were obviously gonna use it to your advantage!

“Now, Floyd, don’t be like this..” Jade started, a pleasant smile on his face that had you sighing in relief and Floyd groaning in disappointment.

“Come on, Jade, just let me squeeze 'em..”

“Look at them, don’t you think they’d be too sensitive to endure your wrath?” Jade added and you could see the exact moment Floyd’s gaze lit up and all hopes of mercy on your poor, unfortunate soul were shattered. But before you could move, Jade grabbed your wrist, locking your arms up easily. You struggled in his grasp, but it was no use. It wasn’t even as if you were weak! What did he eat anyway?! Were moray just stronger?

“Jade.. How could you do this to me..?!” You shouted, betrayed, gulping when Floyd walked towards you, menacingly. It was fast-paced, but to you, it felt like he was walking in slow-motion.

“I must apologize. However, I should indulge both myself and my dear brother at times. You must understand.” Jade said, though there was not an ounce of guilt on his face. Your arms, which were hooked up from Jade’s arms were suddenly released, but that didn’t mean you could escape. Instead, Jade wrapped his arms around your waist and began tickling your sides. And Floyd, well, he pounced and started tickling your stomach, your armpits, pretty much anywhere he could get his hands on.

“N-nOHOHOHO, w-why?!” You cried, feeling overwhelmed by the fact that the Leech twins were so easily tickling you.

“Oooh, Shrimpy, already broke ya, huh?” Floyd teased. He was more on the rougher side of tickling, pinching and squeezing your sensitive skin, while Jade was more gentle, with light grazes and scribbles which were still so evil.

“Ehehehe shuhuhut uhuhup!” You looked around, feeling embarrassed, but the lounge was mostly empty and those who were there seemed occupied with other things so they didn’t pay attention to you. You looked back at the Leech twins, flailing in their arms, but Jade managed to pull your arms above your head with his hand, despite your flailing.

“You’re really going to say that to us? Now, don’t be so mean. You might hurt my feelings.” Jade chucked, deep and low. You knew that what he said was complete bullshit, but you couldn’t comment on it, too caught up on the hands on your body.

They were relentless, that much you could tell. It felt like they were trying to find the spots that made you tick and react the most and you could feel that this wasn’t the last time they’d tickle you like this.

“Plehehehease!” You giggle instead, unable to find the words to respond.

“Please what, Shrimpy? You’re so ticklish already!” Floyd giggled, his hands grasping against your sides and occasionally drifting over towards your stomach.

“Now, now, Floyd. I’d say that they are faring quite well.”

“W-WAHAHAHAHH!” Is your response, apparently. You could just die right now. You never imagined that today would be the day you found yourself being tickled to absolute pieces, by none other than the Leech twins! You began wondering how Azul ever put up with them! Knowing how they’re acting now, you’re sure the three of them have engaged in some sort of tickle-fights, if the experience they very obviously had was anything to go by.

“Sure about that, Jade? They’re like a squeak toy!” You tried to put your lips together. That.. lasted about half a second before you found it hard to keep your mouth shut, eliciting the noises that Floyd had just compared to a toy. “Squeak, squeak!” Floyd chirped, squeezing like you were, in fact, a toy.

“Nohohohoho!!” You shriek, laughing and laughing. The fingers on your body were unrelenting and you could feel tears of mirth begin to prick at your eyes. They hadn’t even gotten your worst spot, and Jade was barely even tickling you, more focused on holding you so Floyd could get more access. Still… you were feeling a bit overwhelmed.

It seemed Jade was watching your reactions, though, because he muttered Floyd’s name. Either that, or he just conveniently and coincidentally noticed at the exact time you were reaching your limit. It didn’t matter, because he had let go of you and Floyd, instead of tickling you, slung his arm over your shoulder, leaning. You felt exhausted, so you just dropped your head, using his arm as a headrest.

“That was super fun, Shrimpy! We gotta do that again sometime!” Floyd laughed, heartily and cheerfully.

“Hopefully not too soon…” You muttered, under your breath, causing Floyd to laugh harder.

“I agree. I wouldn’t mind this scenario happening again.” Jade nodded, poking your side and smirking when you flinch and glare.

“Not you too..” You pout, though you couldn’t hold back a smile. You hadn’t really thought about where you stood with the twins before, but you found that you didn’t ever mind their presence either. In fact, you could feel yourself hoping for times like this to occur more, as well.

[justforbooks]

Richard Woodman

Writer who drew on his own experience at sea in a series of novels and historical works about the British merchant navy

“The end was anticlimax. We slipped home unnoticed. Britain turned no hair at our arrival, as just as she has turned no hair at our extinction.” When Richard Woodman published Voyage East in 1988, he knew that the mercantile world depicted within it, which he had joined aged 16, was gone.

The first-person novel – which never reads like fiction – describes the voyage of a cargo liner carrying goods and passengers from Liverpool to Singapore, Hong Kong, Kobe and Shanghai in the mid-1960s. There is a moment, off the coast of Borneo, when the captain sees a vessel with half a dozen grey aluminium boxes on her foredeck: “What the devil are they?” he asks the pilot. “‘They’re containers, Captain,’ the Pilot replied, and no one on the bridge heard the sentence of death pronounced upon us.”

Woodman, who has died aged 80, became the memorialist of the merchant fleets. Between 2008 and 2016 he wrote the history of the British merchant navy in five volumes, followed by A Low Set of Blackguards, a two-volume history (2016-17) of the East India Company.

His outstanding contribution came through his three second world war convoy histories: Arctic Convoys (1994), Malta Convoys (2000) and The Real Cruel Sea (2005). These are works of passion, based on experience and scrupulous research.

The loss of life among merchant seamen was proportionately greater than in any of the armed services and the recognition they received far less. From the beginning of the war a seafarer’s pay was stopped the minute his ship was sunk. “Time spent fighting for his life on a float or lifeboat was an unpaid excursion,” wrote Woodman.

While Winston Churchill acknowledged the crucial importance of the Battle of the Atlantic to national survival, it was not until 2012 that those who had served in the Arctic convoys, and had taken the highest casualties of all, were retrospectively honoured.

Born in north London, Richard was the elder son of Rosalie (nee Cann) and Douglas Woodman, a civil service administrator. Though he was far from the sea, his imagination was captured by the works of Arthur Ransome, Daniel Defoe, RM Ballantyne and Alan Villiers, and his enthusiasm nurtured by Sea Scout membership.

He was the youngest member of the Sea Scout crew that sailed the ex-German yawl Nordwind in the 1960 Tall Ships race and, despite failing all but two of his O-levels, he was accepted as an indentured apprentice with the Alfred Holt (Blue Funnel) line in 1960.

His first long trip to Australia came as a midshipman on the SS Glenarty, returning via the US: “I had been round the world before I would have been allowed inside a British pub.” Life on board ship took place in an uncompromising, all-male environment: the almost compulsory swearing, drinking and sexist banter encouraged the development of “a carapace behind which we hid our private selves”.

Woodman responded eagerly to the hands-on education in seamanship and navigation, developed his writing and sketching through the log-keeping and read his way through the excellent ships’ libraries provided by the Marine Society. He completed his four-year apprenticeship and gained his second mate’s certificate. He was, however, in love and hated saying goodbye to his girlfriend, Christine Hite, an art student, for many months at a time.

He left Blue Funnel in the mid-1960s and went to work for the Ocean Weather Service, where he discovered how vicious the North Atlantic winter weather systems could be – and how pitilessly an ex-second world war corvette would roll. Fortunately it was not long before a temporary position became available with Trinity House, the corporation charged with the maintenance of navigation marks around England, Wales and the Channel Islands.

The position became permanent; he and Christine married in 1969 and settled in Harwich, Essex, near the Trinity House east coast depot, and he served the corporation for most of the rest of his life.

The work at sea was varied, challenging, sometimes dangerous. Precise navigation, seamanship and attention to detail were essential qualities, but Woodman also found time to write. His first novel, The Eye of the Fleet, was published in 1981. This introduced a series of 14 adventures featuring the young Nathaniel Drinkwater, a hero somewhat in the Horatio Hornblower mode but bearing the unmistakable stamp of a writer who was also a sailor.

Despite his professional career being in motorised vessels, Woodman loved traditional gaff-rigged yachts, particularly his own Kestrel and then Andromeda, in which he and Christine explored the east coast rivers and beyond. The action of his nautical novels often turns on neat, seamanlike manoeuvres as well as including varied and closely observed seascapes.

His productivity was astonishing. He often wrote two or three novels a year and soon added non-fiction to his output. When he became captain of Trinity House Vessel Patricia, he achieved this by having two desks, one from which he could conduct official business, the other hidden behind a door, with a page from the work in progress always ready in the typewriter.

Meanwhile, in his job he was extremely focused, conscientious and painstaking. Although some remember him as being of the “old school”, Jill Kernick, the first woman in almost 500 years to work at sea for Trinity House, credits him with helping her break through traditional barriers in the early 80s.

In 1997 Woodman retired to write full time, but was soon elected a Younger Brother of Trinity House, and then an Elder Brother, the first time a former employee was accorded this honour. He was diagnosed with cancer in 2003 but there was no let-up in his work rate. His last completed novel, A River in Borneo (2022), harks back to 60s Indonesia but sets its final scene in a Colchester hospice.

He is survived by Christine and their children, Abigail and Edward, and grandson, Arlo.

🔔 Richard Martin Woodman, master mariner and author, born 10 March 1944; died 2 October 2024

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