#he’s on her hit list and she made that known
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2x12
spencer reid x morgan!reader
note: i got carried away with this one...
warnings: Sarah calls Spencer 'freaky' (lovingly), murder, eating/food
wordcount: 2388
Spencer was showing the girl’s his ‘physics magic’ when he got a little too comfortable and almost hit Hotch on his way into the bullpen. The girl’s pretended to not be involved as Hotch picked up the ‘rocket’ and looked at Spencer, “Physics magic?” “Yes, sir.” “Reid, we talked about this.” “I’m sorry, sir.”
The tense air in the room dissipated when Hotch placed the ‘rocket’ on the young man’s desk and said, “You’re starting to get some distance on those.”
The girls gathered back around the desk seemingly to have forgotten whatever they were doing that made them innocent to the physics magic happening.
“So he does have a sense of humour?” “Sometimes.” Spencer replied back to Emily, him and Y/n always seemed to be able to get him out of his usual stoic nature.
“So hey. Where’s the Morgans?” The brunette woman asked, Spencer once again had the answer, “Chicago. They go every year for their mother’s birthday.”
-
Derek and Y/n were walking out of the corner store and they got a couple things for their older sister, Sarah, before heading back home.
“You really think she’s got enough butter?” “Hey, y’know Sarah, if she doesn’t put it on the list, she doesn’t need it. She doesn’t make mistakes.” The younger girl said sarcastically, before they turned the corner to see Rodney and his guys.
“Y/n! Lookin’ good. I mean, damn, you’ve filled out in all the right places since you left.” “Step off, Rodney. Y/n/n get in the car.” “C’mon, D.” “I said get in the car.” Y/n accepted the defeat, whenever they got back to Chicago it was back to when they were kids, Y/n was a young helpless girl until big brother Derek came to the rescue.
“That’s okay, baby, I’ll get with you a little later, huh?” “In your dreams, Rodney.” “Most definitely. All night long, baby girl.”
Big brother Derek made his presence known, “You better step off before I make you wish you never walked up on me.” “Oh what? You two some bad-asses now ‘cause they pay you to wear that gun, Mr and Miss F.B.I?” “Rodney, he’s proved before he doesn’t need a gun to take you out.” “Past history? That’s a dangerous thing for you to count on, baby.” “Rodney. Walk away.”
Rodney laughs in Derek’s face, “Y/n/n, I’ll get at you a little later.” “Go to hell.” Rodney and his guys left around the corner, Derek motioned with his arm to get in the car, “C’mon, I’ll take you home. Then there’s something I gotta do.”
-
The five of them sat around the dinner table as Desi brought the cake in from the kitchen and Derek counted them in. “One, two, three” And they all sang happy birthday to their mom.
Their mom, of course, couldn’t have a moment just about her, even after Derek said ‘Go ahead, momma’ she didn’t blow out the candles before praising her second youngest’s effort.
“Did you make this yourself?” Desi replied, “Oh, Sarah and Y/n helped me.” “Momma, they wouldn’t let me help so I don’t know how good it’s gonna taste.” Derek said, teasing his sisters. But Sarah always made sure to put D in his place, “Oh, no, no, you remember that Christmas fiasco of 1994?”
“I remember that.” “The fire!” “Oh, that was bad.”
“Whatever, that was 12 years ago! Let it go!” “No, no, no, we still get cards from the fire department.” “Serious?” Y/n asked from her spot next to her older sister.
“Mama, you see how they treat your baby boy?” “You be good to your brother.” “Uh-huh, what she said!” “You got the ‘baby’ part right at least.” Y/n mumbled, intended for Sarah to hear but she spoke a little loud.
“Okay you know what?” “Hey!" “You better watch out!” The siblings fought over the table. “What? What?” “All right!”
Their fighting could only be put to rest by their mom. And when she did, they got back to her blowing out her candles, “Okay, wish, a wish..”
And cheering began as their mom finally blew out her candles.
-
“What is it?” The siblings laughed from their scattered places on the couch, watching their mom open her gifts. It was Derek’s turn and he explained to their mom what he got her and how she can use it. After some teasing Sarah and Desi started cleaning up a little so Y/n and Derek could catch up more with their mom since they don’t get to see her as much.
“We miss you two around here.” “I know.” Y/n leant her head on the older woman’s shoulder as she was holding Derek’s hand. Derek usually covered this for them, he knew Y/n felt guilty for not being around more so he was always the one to explain it to their mom.
“You’re careful right? I lost your dad. I can’t lose you two.” “You won’t.” “And watch after this one she was always the trouble maker.” “I do.”
She patted her son’s hand before she got back to the teasing, something the Morgan’s were very good at, “Good, cause you owe me some grandbabies.” “Look at her, she’s got the genius wrapped around her finger.” “D, give that up!”
This was not the first time their mom had heard about Spencer. Derek loved bringing it up to deflect questions off of him.
"That Doctor you work with? Are you two together now? Why didn't you mention it, baby?"
But suddenly a loud and persistent knocking on the door broke the family from their chatter. “Saved by the bell! Get it, D, you’re closest.” Detek swatted at his little sister before getting the door. And it was Sheriff Gordinski.
“Gordinski?” “You armed?” “Excuse me?” “Are you wearing a gun?” “No, not right now.” “Then turn around.” Derek laughed, he’s an FBI agent who does Gordinski think he is? Was all Y/n could think.
“You’re under arrest, Derek.”
-
“C’mon Wally, you got to tell me something, my team is on the case!” “I don’t answer to you, Morgan.” “You called in FBI? I’m FBI.”
The woman was standing, towering over Wally as he sat on his desk not giving her a second glance, he never respected her and he wasn’t gonna start now.
“Special Agent Hotchner, FBI, I’m looking for-” He brilliant and stoic voice of her boss, Hotch, cut through the background chatter of the station.
Y/n quickly discarded Wally after seeing the team making her way over to them and interrupting an officer at his desk that Hotch originally asked, “Oh, Hotch- Chuck, I got this.” She liked Chuck. He was one the alright guys, he’d helped her get out of a lot back in the day.
“How’re you guys doing? I’m Wally Dennison, CPD.” “Unimportant. The only reason he’s left hand man is ‘cause he does whatever Gordi tells him to.” Hotch seemingly moved right past the comment, “Where’s Agent Morgan?” “Detective Gordinski’s in with the suspect now.” “I need to see him.” And for the millionth time, Wally gets in over his head and has no idea what and where his place is. As he walked away the girl mumbled, “I don’t like them calling D a ‘suspect’” into JJ’s shoulder as the older woman gave her a side hug.
-
Gordinski finally came out from wherever he was, letting Hotch go in to talk to Derek. Gordi went on to tell Gideon how helpful his profile was in arresting Derek. Worst part was he never cared to hide his distaste for the man, calling Derek a ‘son of a bitch’. That racist bastard! Was all Y/b could think.
Spencer could see the signs of anger in Y/n the way she was scratching her skin, he always hated it when she did it. Luckily she only did when she was mad, which was not a lot, but right now she was really mad. Spencer cut her off when he saw she was going to say something that definitely shouldn’t come out of an FBI agent’s mouth.
“Detective, a profile’s just a guide.” “This one guided me to him.” “They’re really more useful in the elimination of suspects-” “Not the inclusion. Gordi, you got the wrong guy.” She mumbled, not quietly.
Gordinski walked the team through his flawed work, he showed them the coincidences he’s found and the circumstantial evidence he’s collected.
Spencer reached down and grabbed Y/n’s hand from where it was scratching her skin and brought it towards him to hold, biether thought too much of the gesture, but JJ did and made sure she’d tell Garcia about it when this was all cleared up.
“There are key pieces of the profile that don’t fit, Detective. The age, 25-35, Morgan was 15 or so at the time.” “Also says that age is the hardest to predict.” He had a point there, “-And I should never exclude someone simply because of a discrepancy with the age.”
“What about the speculation that since he didn’t manage to leave any evidence at the scene of the crime that he most likely has a criminal record or previous law enforcement knowledge? Derek wasn’t even in the bureau yet when the first body was found.”
She knew Gordi was gonna break the news so Y/n did it for him, maybe that in some way will she Gordinski that Derek wasn’t hiding that, “Derek, had a criminal record.”
-
Gordinski was back at his desk now, the team had a quiet discussion without his input. Finally.
“Y/n, you bring Prentiss and Reid to talk to your family. Learn all about him, especially at the time of the first murder.”
“I don’t have a car, one of the cops brought me down.”
“I can take you.” Wally seemed to cut in out of nowhere, and with how much he annoys Y/n she was quick to jump on him for it, “Wally, we don’t need-” “No, actually, that’s not a bad idea.” Gideon said. “Right. Lead the way, Walls.”
-
“Is Derek alright?” “He wouldn’t let us go down there, Y/n luckily convinced him to let her go.” Y/n’s mom added on to her older sister's initial question “He’s fine. Our boss is with him.” “He’s okay, momma.” Y/n reassured further after Emily.
“Did they he and Y/n tell you Gordinski’s been harassing him since he was a kid?” “Whys that?” Spencer asked, innocently, not realising he was asking Sarah, “You’d have to ask the bastard.” Y/n was sat in the chair in front of him, reaching her hand back and patted Spencer’s arm in sympathy, as their mom shared her disappointment with Sarah’s harsh words.
Wally had some things to say that only made Sarah more riled up, “What are you even doing in my mother’s house?!” “They asked me.” “Not really.” Spencer mumbled, eating the piece of cake.
“I don’t understand how they could think he did this.” “Someone may be trying to make it look like he hurt those kids.” “And the police believe it?” “But he’s an FBI agent.” Desi cut, Y/n was about to gently tell her sister that in an investigation that doesn’t really matter, but of course Spencer cut in with his ever present knowledge.
“Actually, law enforcement officials are just as probable statistically to commit a crime as anyone else.” Y/n placed her head in her hands, she loved hearing Spencer talk about what he knows but sometimes- he just can’t read a room “Look at the cross-section of a society, there’s a general population and a small fraction of this percentage is-” “Momma, he’s not saying they believe D is involved in this.” “Oh, no, no! Yeah, not at all! I’m merely speaking theoretically.”
Sarah almost looks at him like he’s crazy, and Desi speaks up from where she’s standing behind their mom, seemingly only talking to embarrass her little sister. “You're Dr. Reid?” “Mhmm.” “Derek and Y/n have talked about you.” And her head falls back onto her hands. “Really?” Spencer says, smugly from his spot above his best friend.
“Derek loves kids. Every time he’s here he goes to the youth centre.” “Youth Centre?” “The Upward Youth Centre.” “Does that have some sort of significance for him?” Spencer cut into Emily and Mrs.Morgan’s conversation to ask, “What are you saying? There’s something in it for him, other than giving back to poor kids of your neighbourhood?” “Sarah, these are me and D’s friends. They’re only here to help. When they ask a question, it isn’t to denigrate or demean anything Derek’s done.” “We just have to know everything so we can figure out where to look next. Does The Youth Centre hold any special significance to him?”
“The Youth Centre saved his life.”
Sarah and their mom explained to Emily and Spencer and maybe even Y/n, since she was too young at the time, the history between Derek and the law and Gordinski.
After hearing about Carl, Emily decided she was headed there next, leaving Y/n and Spencer with her family.
-
Spencer and Y/n were left at her mom’s house till the case eventually closed, and Derek got closure and justice for the boys. But until then,
Y/n knew what the team was doing with this, Y/n was too connected to the case and Spencer stayed with her because he could keep her at a level head.
They continued looking through old stuff of Detek’s and some of all the siblings, Spencer loved seeing the pictures of when Y/n was a child. At this point their job was more so to keep Sarah from freaking and keeping her mom from worrying too much about Derek.
“What’s this one?” “Aww, that was Y/n the week after Derek left for college.” The photo was of a young Y/n with a pout on her lips, it was Spencer’s favourite, she still made that same face from time to time. It was cute.
The women slowly left the dining table and made their way to the living room, watching how the two at the table didn’t even notice. Spencer was too busy looking for more adorable photos and Y/n trying to gather the incriminating ones.
“I thought Derek was just teasing her, but she really does like that freaky genius boy that much.”
~taglist ~
@chrissyclg @pillsbury-doughgirl @the-holy-trinity-l @theillestvillain3 @random000000sblog @flow33didontsmoke
#spencer reid#spencer reid x morgan!reader#spencer reid x reader#spencer reid x morgan!sister#dr spencer reid#spencer reid fanfiction#spencer reid x fem reader#spencer reid x fem!reader#spencer reid x fanfiction#spencer reid x you#spencer reid fluff#spencer reid headcanon#spencer reid fic#spencer reid fandom
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Because... I love you | Kang Yeosang
-> Pairing: Kang Yeosang x Reader
-> Request: From Anon.
-> Synopsis: Yeosang makes it known that he doesn't approve of Y/N's date.
-> Warnings: None
-> Word Count: 676
-> Requests: Closed for now
Yeosang Masterlist | Tag List Sign-Up | Requesting Guidelines
©️ 2024 dancinglikebutterflywings - do not copy, modify and/or repost anywhere.
Yeosang's disapproving glances and scoffs don't go unnoticed by Y/N as she prepares for her date.
A week ago, she’d been to a wedding where the groom, a friend of hers from high school, introduced her to a friend he works with. They hit it off instantly, and two days ago he mustered up the courage to ask her out on a date.
Initially, Y/N had her doubts. She didn't see him as anything more than a friend. However, after discussing it with her best friend, Yeosang, she decided to take his advice and give the date a chance. But she couldn’t help but feel a little disappointed when Yeosang told her to go for it.
Deep down, Y/N hoped that another man showing interest in her would finally push her shy and introverted friend to make a move. It's no secret that there are romantic feelings between them. It's evident to both of them and everyone around them.
But despite the undeniable chemistry and the countless moments of stolen glances and lingering touches, Yeosang never gave into it. He seemed content with just being her best friend, and her constant source of support.
Y/N couldn't help but wonder why. Was it fear of rejection? Or perhaps he was waiting for the ‘right’ moment to ‘confess’ his feelings? Whatever the reason, it frustrated her to no end. She would have made the move herself a long time ago but it’s Yeosang, the last thing she wanted to do was make him feel overwhelmed.
And now, as she prepares for her date with this new guy, she feels defeated but slightly hopeful. This time he’s acting different. He’s still not stopping her but he’s making his disdain noticeable. The scoffs, the glares, the mumbling under his breath, and the occasional look of confliction. He’s usually good at hiding it all. Y/N can't ignore the pang of guilt that tugs at her heart as she watches Yeosang struggle with his emotions.
“Tell me not to go on this date and I’ll cancel right now,” you say, causing him look at you with wide eyes.
"Don't go," he tells her, his voice quiet. When he looks at her, his eyes are pleading, "Don't go on that date."
“Why?” she asks, her heart aching at the vulnerability in his voice. But she needs to hear him say it. She needs to hear him say that she should be going on a date with him instead.
“You know why,” he lightly scoffs, knowing what she’s trying to do.
“Just tell me why,” she encourages him, but the frustration is still there.
"Because... I love you!" he exclaims, his words almost bursting out of him. "I will love you more than he ever could, more than any other man ever could."
Her eyes widen in astonishment, caught off guard by his words. She wasn’t expecting him too outright confess his love for her.
"Stay with me tonight, please," he continues, his words flowing out uncontrollably, unlike his usual composed self. "We can order dinner or go somewhere special. We could watch movies or take a stroll in the park. Just don't go out with him. I don't think I can bear the thought of you falling for him." "How can I fall for someone else when I'm already in love with my best friend?" she beams, her heart soaring. This moment, she’s been waiting for it for far too long.
"Can I kiss you?" he asks, his hand gently reaching for her face.
She nods, her eyes fill with anticipation as he leans in closer.
Their lips meet and the world around them slowly fades away. The kiss is filled with a mixture of longing, passion, and a promise that it is now the two of them together against the world.
Pull away, Yeosang rests his forehead on hers. “So, what do you want to do? Go out? Stay in? Tonight, we’ll do whatever you want.”
Wanting it to just be the two of them, she replies, “I want to stay in.”
YEOSANG TAG LIST:
@staytiny2000 - @kpopmenace143 - @treehouse-mouse - @alexxavicry - @rainydayteacups
@green-agent - @tinyelfperson – @hollxe1 – @laylasbunbunny - @deltamoon666
@skz1-4-3 - @pinkies-things - @everythingboutkpop - @oddracha @http-gyu -
@skittyneos -
#kang yeosang#kang yeosang x reader#yeosang#yeosang x reader#ateez#ateez x reader#kang yeosang fics#kang yeosang imagines#kang yeosang scenarios#kang yeosang fan fics#ateez fics#ateez imagines#ateez scenarios#ateez fan fics#yeosang fics#yeosang imagines#yeosang scenarios#yeosang fan fics#kpop#kpop imagines#kpop fanfics#kpop fics#author: dancinglikebutterflywings
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The narrative in the house that Cory threw the HOH again is so funny bc when Julie asked the candle question you could actively see his soul leave his body bc it was like the one thing he did not know and he was mouthing all that to himself and he thought it was two candles LMAO
#i know he was throwing comps in the beginning but i dont think he was last night#you can see he blanked😭#also this is what matt and jag are thinking he did#and blue is too#blue is funny bc she said he did it bc he’s good with Felicia and Bowie#and LMAO??#he’s good with felicia how#he’s on her hit list and she made that known#bb25
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i see it often that people do not see laios liking kabru, but in reality laios does like kabru! quite a lot for a guy that (from his perspective) he just met! laios forgetting kabrus exact name is not evidence of disinterest in any way--hes only heard it a couple of times, he struggles with small details (unless you want to argue laios also doesnt give a shit about marcille, chilchuck and senshi, he also forgets small details about them. if you do think this, i think dungeon meshi may be too advanced for you. stick to bluey.), and the man has autism. like near explicitly.
laios offers food from their limited supplies because kabru showed an interest in eating monsters, and makes him an omelette so he can have something to eat even though other food was already being prepared. he listens to kabrus criticism of his behavior and mindset in trying to protect falin even though she was straight up killing people, and tries to drag kabru to safety. he watches kabru defuse the situation between himself and toshiro masterfully, and confides in him how hurt he is that toshiro is so angry and how he mustve done something truly awful to upset him like that. when kabru tells him that meeting him was the best part of his time in the dungeon, laios agrees and says its the same for him (remember: laios doesnt do empty platitudes well--if he said it, he meant it).
when kabru leaves, we get three fucking panels in a row of laios staring after him, flexing the hand kabru was just holding, and reflecting on kabrus words ("next time..?")
when kabru shows up again deep in the dungeon, chilchuck is suspicious, but laios is so excited to see him that he throws caution to the wind and lets kabru hold his hand again despite seconds later crossing succubus off his list of shapeshifters that could be appearing as kabru--a carelessness around monsters and danger laios rarely exhibits. when kabru gives his warning about the canaries, laios is grateful. he notices how often kabru saves his skin
when lycion reveals that kabru lied about wanting to eat the omelette laios made, it breaks his heart because he made that with love! he made it for kabru, and kabru didnt like it, and now he knows kabru was just playing at friendship to use him. that breaks his heart, hes distraught, but he doesnt have time to be hurt about it when marcille needs his help urgently so he turns to run to her. he apologizes to kabru and tries to leave again. he isnt listening to what kabru is saying here because kabru was just revealed as a liar and because it doesnt really cohere (kabru is stuttering and speaking in broken sentences as he tries to explain about the dungeons power) and he needs to save marcille
he doesnt believe kabru wanted to be his friend, because who would? why would laios be special enough, loveable enough, to go through the pains kabru went through, just to be his friend? but when kabru makes the intensity of his desire known, laios promises to feed him again, at a proper restaurant --and again, food is care for laios, to feed someone is to love them. marcille is still his priority bc she is in real danger but he means what he says, he really does want to start over with kabru and be real friends with him
once we hit the resolution of the story, kabru near glues himself to laios, helping him and trying to cement himself as a right-hand man, and making known his intent to support laios no matter what. in the medieval manuscript style epilogue, kabru is one of two friends that stick by laios as he becomes king. both marcille and kabru become the people closest to him (besides falin of course), two friends who will always support him, always let him know when hes fucked up and theyre mad at him, two friends who he can rely on. laios did not have to accept kabru as an advisor, he did not have to ask him to stay with him. he did that because after everything, he trusts kabru now, and knows he can count on him
while laios doesnt give any big monologues about what he likes about kabru, its very clear he does, and we know what things laios values in other people. he appreciates kabrus social skills (very clear in the post canon comic in the adventurers bible), his intelligence, that kabru WANTS to be around him and understand him even though its difficult, his strength, and frankly he does appreciate his charm (three fucking panels straight of staring after him). laios really values people with specialized skillsets who are willing to tell him frankly what they think and advise him in areas he is weak in (something we see in his relationship with... i was gonna say namari but its everyone. he does this with everyone he likes. and in the resolution kabru does this CONSTANTLY he does not go a panel without giving laios his professional opinion on how to deal with people).
in conclusion: arent you hungry, kabru? let laios make something for you
#kabru#laios touden#dungeon meshi#kabru of utaya#labru#not explicitly for my labru girlies but it feels sometimes like we are the only ones who understand that these characters are friends
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Cookies!
Pairing : dad!Jude Bellingham x reader
Them : Angst, I think.
Word count : 2k
Jude had a bad day and it seemed like a cookie wasn’t enough to cheer him up.
I haven’t written in soooo long. Apologize for any mistakes. Might delete this one. I don’t know. Sorry! Should start writing more. 😔
Jude and you were highschool sweethearts. Back when eveyone thought you guys wouldn’t make it because kids in love? Yeah, who would have thought you guys could pull through.
But you did.
There were ups and downs especially at the beginning of his career. Those multiple rumors and gossips came flooding all at once and you went from a normal girl to someone who was known to have a famous boyfriend. They ven called you “the girl who hit the jackpot”.
Some even called you lucky.
A few months after your marriage, Jude and you were blessed with a little girl named Aaralyn. Jude was a perfect father figure to her though to be honest, her arrival wasn’t really align with the immense growth of his career but he managed to balance it all out.
But there were still ups and downs.
The small little hand was flipping through pages of pages from your baking cookbooks whilst her other hand kept on tapping on her chin. Her soft little hums filled through the air.
“Have you make up your mind, honey?” You asked whilst rummaging through the cupboards to take out every baking tools needed.
Jude had been feeling under the weather these days. He tried to hide it from you as he always did but you always catch on it. You knew him very well.
And so did Aaralyn.
Apparently, your little girl was fully aware of it too. Aaralyn woke up this morning and came up with an idea to bake cookies for Jude because it was her favourite and based on her logic, whatever foods that made her happy, should made others happy just as much.
“Mommy, we… bake choco cookies!”
You let out a cackle. “You flipped through the whole book just to decide with a basic one?”
“It’s Alyn’s favourite!” Her small little hands started patting on her chest with a proud expression written all over the face.
“Of course, baby. Can you let mommy see the ingredients, please?” You were about to pull the book closer to your side but your duaghter was quicker.
She snatched the book back with her lips jutting out. “Alyn can read!”
“Okay, read it out loud while mommy gather all of the ingredients, yeah?”
“This one says..powder!” Her little finger pointed to the first ingredient on the list.
“What kind of powder?”
“Co— cocoa powder, mommy! This one..” The little finger then slid to the second ingredient.
••
Your little girl’s eyes widen when the sound of a car came from the garage. There was no other car that could have parked in the garage except for your husband’s.
“Daddy is here! Mommy, daddy’s here! We need to be faster!” She made a hop sound as her dangling little feet touched the ground and scrambled to get her princess plate from the cupboard.
“Use Alyn’s plate!” She lifted her pink coloured plate up high for you to place one of the baked goods.
The sound of the door slammed put your little conversation with Aaralyn to an end. There were no words exchanged as both of you stared at Jude. He threw his bag on the couch, the things inside hit with some of your daughter’s toys.
“Alyn, I told you to clean up your toys, didn’t I?” The tense in Jude’s voice was enough to make his mood known to the rest of the family members.
“Uh-oh, mommy wait!” Your daughter tiptoed to place her plate back on the kitchen counter before scrambling to the living room.
You were looking from afar as she straighten her arm to grab on her little toy whilst Jude was ignoring her existence, eyes solely on his phone.
“Daddy, can help me? Please?” Aaralyn mumbled a little as she patted on her dad’s laps.
“You should clean up your own mess. We talked about this yet you still refuse to learn.” He stood up, picked up the bag which he threw earlier and headed straight to the bedroom, leaving your little girl alone.
You saw she brought her little hands close to her chest, lips pouting as she stood there, completely baffled with what just happened.
“Baby, it’s alright. Mommy will help you.” You picked up your daughter’s toy box and brought it closer to the couch, Aaralyn then made a little noise as she jumped on the couch to gather all of the toys left.
“Daddy might be feeling a little sad today. I’m sorry about what happened, sweetheart.” You cupped on her chubby cheeks to give them a little kiss.
“It’s awright! Daddy will be happy after my cookie!” She squealed.
Your brows lifted, smile widen as she mentioned the main point of the day. “You are right! I forgot about the cookies. Should we bring it to daddy?”
“It’s okay! Alyn will do it.”
You trailed behind as she ran back to the kitchen, boths arms high up in the air to get her plate back.
“Be careful!” As soon as you handed her plate back, she already made her way to the room where Jude went.
“Alyn will come back after I make daddy happy!” Her voice sounded afar as she ran to the hallway.
Aaralyn’s pace stopped in a sudden as she nearly hit the closed door. There came a new problem as she couldn’t knock on the door whilst holding the plate.
“Uh-oh..” The soft little mumble slipped out from her mouth.
“Daddy? It’s me!” The back of her hand hesitantly knocked on the door as she took a step back, waiting for a response.
Jude heaved a sigh, arm propped up to cover his eyes. He wished a second for himself and he got was continous knocking sound greeting his ears.
“Daddy…?”
“Daddy!” She crouched down to carefully put the plate on the floor before bringing both of her fists thumping against the door.
“It’s me, Alyn!”
“What do you want from me?!” The inside of the door banged agaist the wall of the bedroom as Jude opened the door. There was nothing but tense in his voice.
Jude saw his little girl struggling to stand up straight with the plate of cookies right as he brought his gaze on her.
Startled by the sudden loud noise, some of the cookies in the plate fell onto the floor. Most of the perfect sized cookie now turned into little bits and pieces.
“Alyn just— just wanna give daddy a cookie…” Your little girl immediately cut the vexed gaze from Jude, her head hung low and she bit on the inside of her cheeks.
“You are making me suffocated. I need a fucking break and I can’t even do that in my house?!”
“Sorry daddy…” Her words turned into a mumble, lips started trembling.
Jude heaved a sigh when he spotted the cookie crumbles now all scattered on the floor. “Great, another mess. Clean it, Alyn. Now!”
Hearing the voice of your husband gradually got louder and louder, you immediately flipped the main valve. You barely had any time to wipe your hands as you scurried to the bedroom where you saw your little girl crouching on the floor, her little chubby hands quivered as she picked up the mess she did.
“Jude! What was that for?!” Fuming, you pushed him by his chest, tears welled up in your eyes.
“I just need a rest, Y/N,” He rolled his eyes with no hint of guilty.
“You could have just said so instead of cursing to my daughter. She did nothing wrong!”
“She should have just left me alone. No one gives a fuck about a fucking cookie right now! I couldn’t play for 2 months and you didn’t even ask me if I’m doing fine!” Jude responded back, not giving any sign to back down nor to tune down his voice.
“I know you aren’t doing fine. Alyn knows it as well. In fact, she knows it better than me. She planned all this. She planned a movie night, we waited for you to come home only to find out you spent a night at Vini’s without telling us beforehand. Alyn wanted to cook your favourite food. We did and you weren’t able to come home again. She then decided to bake her favourite cookies, thinking it could cheer you up only for you to shout at her face. Is it her fault that you have to rest for two months? That you had to lash it all out on her? Do it to me! Scream in my face, Jude! Do it.” Jude didn’t flinched when your fist repeatedly hit on his chest.
“This isn’t about you, Y/N.” He breathed out.
“So, is it about your daughter? Is that why you lashed out on her?”
Instead of saying anything else, he heaved a sigh and made his way to the bathroom.
You went back to where your little girl was sitting. The tears stain were immediately gone as you quickly wiped of your cheeks before crouching in front of her.
“Come, baby,”
Your little girl pulled her hand back from you and went back to picking up the crimbles. “Daddy— daddy asked Alyn to clean up this mess first or daddy will be mad again…”
Your heart broke when she kept her head low. Aaralyn always loved to make eye contacts, she had always been the mood maker in the house.
“Mommy will clean up the mess. Can you go back to your room, please, baby?”
“Daddy won’t be mad..?” She lifted her eyes and you were greeted a pair of puffy eyes, her cheeks were more round as she jushed her lips forward. She looked exactly like Jude and it broke the dam of your tears.
“Daddy won’t be mad at you anymore. Go back to your room? Mommy will see you once I clean this all up, alright?”
**
Jude clearly forgot what happened after. He was literally losing the grasp on time as soon as he woke up from his nap. The blanket was pushed aside as he grabbed on his phone. The brightness made him squint his eyes. The picture of you and your little girl greeted his sight.
3:02
Even in the dark, without him having to turn his head aside, he could still feel the bareness. He wasn’t sure what it was yet. Not until he tapped on the other side of the bed.
It was empty. Untouched even.
“Honey?”
His heartbeat gradually turned even faster as every call was left unanswered. You were a light sleeper. Even a slight noise could have woken you up. Soon as he left the master bedroom, his feet bought him to your little girl’s room. The light was left on but there wasn’t any sight of his baby girl too.
“Aaralyn. Honey?”
Jude went uneasy. His skin turned sticky as he broke intol cold sweats. Part of him wished all of this was just a dream. Before he reached the main door, he caught a glimpse of a pink coloured plate on the dining table with some sort of yellow coloured paper by its side along with a box of crayon pencils.
“Daddy’s
— Aarlyn ❤️”
••
You could have brush it off if it was only between you and him but not to your little girl. Aaralyn was clearly upset. Even when you packed her stuffs, she remained seated at the dining table, staring at her remaining cookie.
As you rearranged her folded clothes into the luggage, she came back into her room, looking determined as if she had to get something done. You let her be as she ran back outside as she took out her crayon set with a piece of paper from her notebook.
Unknown to you, she actually wanted to leavr a little message to her very first love.
“There! For daddy!” She mumbled, the crayon in her hand was slipped back into the rest of the set as she left the paper right beside her plate. Her little hand then rearrange the cookie right in the middle. Not before she took a small bite at the corner of it.
“Daddy will like it…” She murmured with a small smile on her face.
“Come, baby. We gotta go.” You called out to your little girl, voice half whispering not to wake Jude up. After all those things that he did, you dtill couldn’t believe he had the audacity to just call it a night.
“Okay, mommy!” Aaralyn hopped off the chair and ran to you as you crouched down to put on her shoes. As she remain still with her little leg on your lap, she sticked her index finger in her mouth, eyes locked at the dining table area.
“What are you looking at, sweetheart?”
“Alyn forgot to keep my crayon…” She answered.
“That’s alright. Just leave it be.” You picked up your luggage bag, your free hand locked on your little girl’s wrist.
“Mommy, where are we going? Aaralyn asked.
“Daddy needed some time alone so it’s just gonna be you and me.”
#football imagine#jude bellingham x reader#jude bellingham fics#football imagines#football fics#jude bellingham imagine#jude bellingham blurb#jude bellingham fic#jude bellingham imagines
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i think there's been a glitch / theodore nott
PAIRING Theodore Nott x studious!shy!Reader
SUMMARY Theodore Nott was well known for the sort of happenstances that occurred in his dorm. However, the new transfer student seems to catch his eye in particular - that transfer student is you. His friends think that, at first, he has his eyes set on you for more sinful reasons, but he soon proves that his intentions are more romantic than anyone ever thought.
TAGS Theodore Nott x Reader, angst, if you squint, idiots in love, cursing, kissing, study buddies, friends to wtf is this to friends with benefits but also wtf is this to lovers, theo is a simp, reader is not slytherin, can be any other house, reader has social anxiety, references to sex, underage drinking, headmaster's list = dean's list, gender neutral reader
"We were supposed be just friends, / you don't live in my part of town, but maybe I'll see you out some weekend, / depending on what type of mood and situationship I'm in, / and what's in my system," - Glitch by Taylor Swift
WORD COUNT 3.2K
WRITTEN 27.08.2023
A/N This came as a burst of inspiration during calc class when I realized I was really the only person answering my professor's questions in my classes, lmaoo 😭😭 so this is purely self-induglent. i hope you guys enjoy <333
When you had transferred to Hogwarts, you hadn't made very many friends. All right, you hadn't made any friends. Because you had transferred to Hogwarts so late in your academic career, everyone had already formed their own friend groups. No one had any real interest in you - that was, they were interested in why you transferred, but not in assimilating you into their social circles. Your professors, however, had grown quite fond of you, most likely due to your dedication to your studies. And eventually, around midway through the fall semester, you were called into the Headmaster's office. It had kept you on your toes all day - had you done something wrong? Gotten in trouble? Your mind had come up with most elaborate and unlikely scenarios that might have cause you to get called into the Headmaster's office.
You were awarded the honor of being added to the Headmaster's list. Only two others in your year were granted the same honor - Hermione Granger and Theodore Nott. All three of you were maintaining straight O's. You and Hermione had never gotten the opportunity to grow close - it might have been the fact that she was much more close-mindrd than you, or the fact that she didn't have the time to spare to make new friends between her studies and all the "Chosen One" stuff going on. You wanted to at least make one friend, instead of an academic rival, which you made the mistake of creating at your previous school.
So, you approached Theo after the meeting, your hands clamy and shaking while you stuttered out your request to study together. Theo simply watched you with those dead eyes of his before nodding. It had unnerved you but you pushed yourself to confirm a date and time with him. And so began your little friendship.
You were never meant to be more than study partners. Weekly study sessions in the library grew into bi-weekly gatherings, which then grew into daily meetings. And then you were meeting each other after class, making inside jokes, hanging out just because. Slowly, but surely, you and Theo grew close. You weren't sure you had ever been this close with anyone before. It was like he just knew you, not only like the back of his hand, but like every square inch of his body.
And Theo? Theo had never saw you coming. He didn't know that he wanted to be friends with you until you were friends, and then he couldn't stop coming back. You were like a drug. He needed another hit each and every time he saw you. Soon enough, he was aching to spend every waking moment with you. It had started as nothing more than a mutually beneficial partnership, but it grew to be much more than that.
It took him a while to realize he loved you. Cared for you. He was well reputed for sleeping around and having a general devil-may-care attitude. He knew that he loved you when he began to grow tired of the constant flings and one-night stands. When he called off the on-and-off relationship he'd had with a particularly vivacious Slytherin girl. He hated the way girls threw themselves at him, vying for his attention like wildcats fighting over a piece of meat. You weren't like that. You were perfect.
He knew he wanted to ask you out. His friends scoffed at the idea, thinking he was joking. They were shocked when they realized he was serious. Mattheo had even knocked on his head, asking if Theo was really in there. It had to be perfect, so he went to the only people he knew who had ever been in serious relationships. Mostly everyone had told him the same thing - find out what you liked. Woo you. It was rather simple. "For someone who is so smart, you're rather stupid, you know," Blaise had told him. He secretly agreed.
First, he had bought a collection of muggle novels for you at a book store on a forgotten. It had beautifully decorated covers, guilded with golden etchings. When you had sat down to study one day, Theodore had dropped it on the table in front of you while he pulled out his books.
"What's this?" You had asked in confusion.
"It reminded me of you," he said simply, pulling out his spellbook and flipping through it to find where he had last left off.
You furrowed your brows as you pulled the box towards you, unclasping the front of it and pushing it open. You let out the small gasp at the gorgeous hardcovers resting inside, hands trailing along the sturdy spines. Five Muggle Classics, the interior of the box cover said. "Theo . . . " Your voice trailed off at the thoughtfullness of the gift - you were left utterly speechless. "I can't take this. I can't imagine how expensive how this was." You slid the case of books back to Theo. He stopped it, pushing it back towards you.
"Take it. I can't return it. Besides, I got it for you. I would hate to see these go to waste."
You bit your bottom lip before pulling the box back towards you, a smile spreading across your face as you pulled out one of your favorite muggle classics. You flipped through the pages, allowing that paticular new-book smell to wash over you like the waves on a shore. "Thank you," you mumbled softly.
-
You never came to parties. Mostly because you hated all the drinking and crowds and the mixture of stroking lights and booming music that made you dizzy. But you had started to develop feelings for a particular friend of yours. He was tall, devilishly handsome, and more intelligent that anyone you'd ever met. He smelled of evergreen trees, cigarettes, and lilac. You felt for him in a way that you had never felt for anyone else. You were always so laser-focused on you studies, but you realized that your attention had been straying towards a paticular someone as of recently.
You knew he hung around these sort of parties, finding pretty girls to have a fun night with. You wore the most insanely inappropriate dress you could find, hoping to catch his attention. You weren't exactly sure what your goal for that night was, but you were certain you wanted it to end with you and Theo, alone.
Of course, Theo was shocked to see you there. Even more shocked to see you out of the jeans and sweaters you usually wore, standing in a tight little number that had him practically frothing at the mouth. Not that you weren't always stunning, but you were stunning stunning. He wouldn't have approached you normally, but with the alcohol currently coursing through his system, he had a boost of courage and stupidity.
Five seconds later, he was standing right behind you, calling your name. You turned around to face him with a grin. "Hey, there you are."
"What are you doing here?" It sounded much more like a statement than a question - he was seemingly distracted by something else about you.
"I came to see you, silly. And to see what all the rage is about."
"And?"
"I've come to the conclusion that parties suck."
Theo laughed, something hearty that rumbled through his chest. "Want to go somewhere else?"
"Please," you responded with a role of your eyes. "I'm starting to get a headache." You had stupidly accepted a drink and chugged down the bitter alcohol earlier - that didn't bode well for your head when you were already bothered by loud music sober.
Theo's eyes searched the room for somehwere that might be a little quieter - his eyes landed on the staircase to his dorm. Well, where else was there to go? He lead you up the steps, the two of you laughing as he kept you from stumbling down the stairs, and guided you to his dorm. He sat you down on the bed, grabbing a glass on his bedside table, and filled it up with the spell Aguamenti.
"Thanks," you said sweetly, taking it from his hand and taking a long sip. You took a good look at the room, easily able to tell whose area of the roo. was whose. Mattheo's was messy - clothes strewn across the bed and floor. Draco's was neat and filled with a variety of potions book, his bedside table cluttered with potions of a variety of colors, lined up in orderly rows. Blaise had a poster of his favorite Quidditch team plastered on the wall, as well as a family photo filled with all his siblings. Theo's, however, was minimal and tidy aside from the piles of books. His bed was neatly made, the corners of the covers tucked under the mattress.
You finally met Theo's eyes and finally saw some sort of emotion - it took you a moment to identify it as hunger. You glanced down at the outfit you were wearing and flushed, your eyes staying firmly on the ground.
"You look very pretty."
You felt your heart stop in your chest. Had Theo called you . . . pretty? You were in shock - sure, you had come to the party with more than friendly intent, but you had never expected that he would actually notice you the way he had noticed other girls.
"Y-you - you look very handsome."
Theo watched you for a moment - he was standing only a foot away with arm wrapped around the four-poster, hanging off from it slightly. There was an odd sort of tension in the room - you both knew what you wanted and you both knew you wanted it now. Both of your inhibitions were lowered because of the alcohol, so it was that one split desicion that changed everything. Soon enough, his lips were planted into yours, one hand cupping your cheek and the other trailing along the side of your body. Everything had happened so fast - it went from the hand on your hips guiding you down onto the mattress to clothes strewn on the floor to sleeping heavily within each other's arms. It was hours before you woke again, and you were grateful that none of his friends had come up from the party yet. He helped you get dressed, a look of almost disbelief settled into his features as you left, sending him an awkward smile before you closed the door. What had he done?
-
The next day you had studied together like nothing happened. You cracked a joke. He laughed. You helped him with Transfiguration, he helped you with Ancient Runes. Another day passed. And another. And another. Theo was going beyond mad - what were you two now? Were you still friends? Were you dating? He felt like he wanted to yank all his hair out of his head.
That was, until about a week later. Late at night, the two of you were studying in the library. He was huddled next to you, embarrassingly distracted by your beauty while you were trying to help him with a homework problem he got stuck on. He finally snapped back to attention as you pointed to something on his parchment, leaning downwards to see exactly what you were pointing at. At the same time, you had turned your head to see what had him so distracted. The resultant situation: your noses bumped together and he could feel your heavy, hot breath on his lips.
Flashbacks to the night you shared soared through both of your minds. And it was you, this time, who had made the stupid desicion. You lunged for his lips with desperation, fingers snaking through his hair, a hand planted on his chest. He had tensed in surprise before returning the kiss with equal fervor. It wasn't long before you were quickly packing your things and Theo was dragging you to some abandoned room, your lips entangled as he pressed you up against the wall. The moonlight seeped in through the red glass-stained windows, dancing deliciously on your skin. Forever engraved in his memory was the picture of you, the only word on your lips being his name, grasping his shoulders with need.
-
Neither of you knew what kind of relationship you had descended into. It involved rather intimate gatherings from time to time, but for the most part, you were just friends. It was an almost seamless friendship between you two - except for the nagging thoughts at the back of both of your minds that kept you wondering if the other really felt the same way.
Theo buried his face into his hands, surrounded by a group of friends who had utterly no idea what to do. Their eyes watched him with trepidation and worry. It was oddly concerning how much he was stressing over this. Theo never seemed to stress about anything. But here he was, hands fisted in his hair, staring down at the ground in utter disillusionment.
"I've ruined everything. All cause I couldn't keep it in my fucking pants."
"That can't be it, mate," Mattheo tried reassuring him. "Look, you said they're different, yeah? All the other girls you've slept with found someone else after you. But they keep coming back for more. That has to mean something, right?"
"Yeah, you've just got to romance them," Blaise said. Theo groaned.
"Please never open your mouth again."
"I'm serious. Take her to Hogsmeade, that'll show them."
Theo leaned his face upwards, staring at Blaise. He was right - taking someone to Hogsmeade virtually meant asking them out on a date. You had to know the innuendo by now, being at Hogwarts as long as you have. "Blaise, you're brilliant." He clapped his friend on the back, rushing out of the dorm to find you.
-
You scanned the bookshelves for books with more information on Gamp's Law of Elemental Transfiguration. The idea fascinated you - how come you could conjure any sort of non-edible object from nothing, but with food you couldn't? At the root of it, everything was made of subatomic particles, then atoms, then particles, and so on. So, theoretically, anything could be created from nothing, correct?
You were so enraptured by your own thoughts that you had no conception of your surroundings and bumped right into someone walking straight towards you. The books in your arms tumbled onto the floor and you flushed a bright red, bending down to pick them up.
"Gosh, I'm so sorry!" you exclaimed, hastily collecting the books from the ground. The boy, who you hadn't really looked at yet, bent down to help you collect them as well. "I wasn't looking where I was going, I'm really -"
As you stood up, you finally got to look at his face - and it turned out to be Theo. His face was just barely flushed, and the emotion in his eyes held a deep meaning that you couldn't quite decrypt. You didn't have a chance to ask him what he was doing, because he beat you to it.
"Go to Hogsmeade with me."
"I'm sorry?"
"Hogsmeade. You and I. Interested?" His tone was strained, and you realized what emotion finally lay beyond those dead eyes. Fear.
You knew what he was insinuating. Was he - asking you out on a date? Did that mean he really did like you? More than just as someone he could have a little fun with time and again, someone who was just a friend. You stared up at him for quite a while, not realising how silent you were as you sunk into the rabbit hole of your own thoughts.
"I - erm - all right, then." You were still quite in a bit of shock. "Will you -"
"Yeah, I'll wait for you outside your common room." The fear in his eyes seemed to dissipate, his shoulders sagging in relief.
"Right. Yeah, sounds good. Great."
-
You had bundled up for the cold weather, a thick scarf wrapped around your neck and a hat with your house emblem on your head. You tried to dress in something nice underneath the layers of warmth - it had taken you a long time to decide what exactly you wanted to wear, but you had eventually come to a conclusion.
When you exited the dormitory, you found Theo bundled up with an equal amount of layers, yet he looked just as attractive as he always did. In his hands, he held a single rose. You flushed a bright red, especially as a group of first year girls giggled as they exited the dorm behind you.
"Hello," Theo said simply, handing you the rose.
"Hello," you responded shyly, taking it gratefully and holding it in your hands. You smiled nervously, rocking back and forth on your feet. "So."
"So. Are you ready?"
"Yeah."
"Okay." Theo grabbed your hand, holding it gently. You hid your face from his view, not wanting him to know the kind of affect he had on you as he lead you through the castle. "What do you want to do first?"
You had weaved your hand through his arm, resting your head on the edge of his shoulder. "Hm. I need some more quills. But we should definitely stop at the bookshop first. I want to see if they've gotten anything new."
"Okay."
Theo had never been a talkative person - and you had never really minded it, not until now. You wish that maybe he might just tell you he had feelings for you, more than feelings that only arose every once in a while. It would make this so much easier on you. But you were nervous and shy and had a hard time talking to people, even one's you've been friends with. So you remained silent on the walk there.
Theo could tell it was an uncomfortable silence. Not only did being the quiet one meant he could read a room easily, he had also been around you long enough to know when you felt uncomfortable. He stopped the two of you from walking - you were already walking the path to Hogsmeade, snow lightly covered both of your heads.
"What's wrong?"
"N-nothing."
"You don't have to lie to me."
You bit the interior of your cheek nervously. Did you really want to destroy what you had with him? You were content with keeping your relationship the way it was. At least, that's what you convinced yourself.
You felt your gaze being drawn back to Theo, his fingers resting under your chin. "Don't hide from me, love, tell me what's on your mind."
"Love." You felt your heart melt into a puddle of hope and embarrassment. "Theo . . . what are we?"
Theo grabbed your hand and held it up, intertwining your fingers together. He looked at them, with something akin to fascination, and muttered, "What do you want us to be?"
You paused. "I want us to be together," you whispered, looking up at him with eyes of despair. Theo felt his heart wrench at the sight of it. He raised his other hand, brushing it lightly against your cheek.
"Then let's be together," he whispered back. He leaned downwards, meeting your lips in a soft kiss. It wasn't like any of the kisses before that - no, those were passionate, desperate, lust-filled kisses. This was loving, caring, blossoming. He dropped your hand to cup both of your cheeks in his hand, his nose biting into your cheek. "You and I. I like the sound of that."
tags: @plants-are-pretty-cool @annaisabookworm @maricardigan
Thank you all for reading! Be sure to like, reblog, and comment! I really appreciate it ^^. If you have any requests, by inbox is open but make sure to check the list of characters I write for here. If you want to be tagged in any upcoming fics/headcanons of mine, let me know. If you want to see more from me, go ahead and check out my masterlist here!
#— [ glizzy posts ☆ ]#theodore nott x reader#theodore nott x you#theo nott x reader#slytherin boys#my writing#fanfiction#my fanfiction#my fic#writing#harry potter#fanfic#theodore nott
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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.
#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere x you#yandere imagines#yandere drabbles#yandere oc x you#yandere mafia#yandere oc x reader#yandere fics#yandere stories#yandere doctor#yandere king#yandere female#female yandere#yandere rich girl#yandere oneshot#yandere ocs#yandere ocs x reader#male reader
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౨ৎ˚₊✩‧₊ Cherry’s SStan Series Rec List
here are my sebastian stan series fic recs! they are mostly bucky barnes series but mainly Au’s! i will be creating separate lists for cevans one shots and sstan one shots😚
Clockwork - @sgt-seabass
When life seems to be finally back on track, a visit by a mob boss to your dainty town changes everything. (Dark!Alpha Nick Fowler)
The Soldat And The Sparrow - @navybrat817
Your fire burns for the Winter Soldier. And one day, you'll be free. Both of you.
For The Love Of The Game - @pellucid-constellations
Bucky Barnes was a menace. NYU’s top baseball player, he was used to girls falling at his feet and could smooth talk his way out of just about anything. You hated him. He couldn’t figure out why. So when the novelty of weekend parties and quick hookups finally wore off—and his feelings for you began to grow—he made it his mission to fix it.
The Heart Is A Deep Ocean - @dreamlessinparis
Titanic was known as the ship of dreams. For you, it was the dream of getting home, or so you thought. From the moment you locked eyes with James Buchanan Barnes, all those dreams changed and your life was never the same.
Everything’s Better In WestView - @espinosaurusrexex
Bucky and Y/N sneak into Westview to have the perfect life. Away from late Steve and Tony, Vision and Natasha, they let themselves be consumed by suburban magic. To their surprise, however, some of these people aren’t so dead in the town. And there are some other weird things happening that make them question their sanity. But that’s okay, right? ‘Cause everything’s better in Westview.
The Bride Of Soldat - @vampy-doll
In the summer of 1986, a young woman goes missing whenever HYDRA kidnaps her to be their next experiment for the reward of their Soldat. Now, post blip, Bucky starts to remember defining details of his love, his match made in hell, and is determined to find her. But after years of isolation and torture after his escape, she isn’t who he remembers. Now they’re trying to piece together who she was pre-HYDRA to teach her how to live, without his undying love and obsession of her getting in the way. But when one head is cut off, two more shall grow in its place, leaving them to discover those behind her abduction.
Awake My Soul - @foreverindreamlandd
It's been five years since zombies first started walking the Earth, destroying anything and everything in their wake. Now, in this apocalyptic world, fighting for survival comes as naturally as breathing. The one thing you've learned ever since they arrived, though, is that the living can be so much more dangerous than the undead. When you stumble across two young, scared boys lost in the woods and being chased by walkers, you go against your better judgment and help them to safety. Little did you know that helping them would lead you to Bucky - an angry, grumpy, distrusting member of the camp Shield. Bucky has zero interest in having you enter his life. He's been hurt before and lost too many people to risk experiencing that kind of pain again, and he knows that there are secrets you aren't telling the group. Yet, when push comes to shove, and you're put at risk, he'll stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Guiding Light - @wkemeup
It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get the intel and go home. Until everything goes wrong and you’re taken captive by Hydra. While you struggle to stay alive and hold your sanity, Bucky begins to lose himself to a darkness and gives into the soldier because he doesn’t know how to breathe without you. Not until he brings you home. If he even can.
The Witness - @wkemeup
Owner of a bar full of criminals, maybe you shouldn’t be surprised when you’re the sole witness to a hydra hit. In comes Detective Barnes, the quick-witted, flirtatious cop who somehow became a regular at your misfit bar. When he takes it upon himself to ensure your safety off the books, you learn to rely on someone else for a change and find you don’t mind it at all. Not when it’s him.
Under Oath - @ugh-supersoldiers
The people called for justice, the state answered. The trial of State v. Barnes is set to begin, and the odds are most certainly not in favor of the not so beloved ex Winter Soldier. That’s where you come in, the quick, smart, and all too brave lawyer set on defending and saving one Bucky Barnes from legal prosecution. The only problem? He’s not so sure he’s worth saving at all.
Just One Kiss - @sarahwroteathing
Bucky Barnes has been chasing after you since he was ten years old, but you’re determined not to give in. How long can you hold out when all he’s asking for is just one kiss?
He’s Hazardous To My Health - @writing-for-marvel
Bucky Barnes is a beefy paramedic with a traumatic past, who has left a trail of broken hearts behind him. You are a resident doctor new to town, who barely has time to date between long shifts. When your paths cross in your ER during a disaster, is it the start of something magical, or are you destined to be just another of Bucky’s former flames?
Just Try - @waiting4inspiration
Perfectly happy with your life at the Avengers’ compound, an alpha walks into your life, flipping it completely over and revealing secrets you hoped you had buried a long time ago.
Дорогая - @waiting4inspiration
Bucky's Winter Soldier programming has been triggered. Turns out the Winter Soldier has a thing for you.
Red Ties - @sebstan2020
Mary, a sweet Christian girl living in the city of Brooklyn as a nurse had a simple life. She loved her work, her friends and attending church every Sunday and helping Reverend Owens. Her life was nothing out of the ordinary. However, it all changed one day when she bumps into the intriguing and intimidating James Barnes, Brooklyn’s notorious mafia boss and is introduced to a world of guns, lust and dominance.
Delicate Edges - @wkemeup
Your family’s beloved flower shop was not the only thing you inherited when your parents passed. Trapped under a mountain of debt to the Hydra club, you bear the cost of your father’s desperate bargain. It’s only in moments when the charming Bucky Barnes walks into your shop that you can forget the cruelty of the biker clubs of this town. But a war is brewing. The border is crumbling. You're trapped in the middle. And Bucky will stop at nothing to keep you safe.
Pride And Privacy - @adrinktostopyourthirst
Bucky works on himself as he gets used to a roommate. Turns out, she has a much better room than him and he crossed the line.
Feelings Are Fatal - @sunmoonandeddie
After the events of Endgame, you struggle to come to terms with what you’ve lost, though you’re learning that you still have something to gain.
Appointments - @noctumbra
bucky barnes, finally being able to live freely in 21st century, accidentally gets a fuck buddy and starts to rediscover himself. the only weird thing about this situation is that you have to make an appointment to get railed by him.
Lazarus - @sagechanoafterdark
Things are complicated between you and James Barnes. For you, life doesn’t mean much when you never stay dead for very long. But it might just be an ex-soviet assassin that convinces you to start living again.
Its A Deal - @justreadingfics
You’re out of a relationship of 10 years and you’re just in desperate need to get laid, no strings attached, no romance, no complications. You dear friend Natasha feels like she’s going to regret this later, but she might have the perfect guy to fulfill your needs.
The Two Of Us - @bucky-bucket-barnes
You and Bucky go to investigate the phenomenon happening in Westview, New Jersey. While attempting to understand the issue, you yourselves are sucked into Wanda's world of pretend. Now, you believe yourselves to be the happily married Mr. and Mrs. Barnes; in real life, you are most definitely not a happy pair. It is up to you and Bucky to piece together what's happening while dealing with one another inside the hex.
Snow - @delaber
Tired of your constant bickering, Sam sends you and Bucky on a mission alone. When the worst possible outcome happens and you’re forced to spend several days together in a small cabin, you finally get to see a different, more pleasurable side to the man whose flesh you’ve always had a thorn in.
All Good Things - @sagechanoafterdark
After only three days of dealing with the annoying specter haunting you, you break the rules and accidently give a ghost a body. So what do you do when you find out the man you’re now sharing your your apartment with isn’t really a ghost and that haunted touch is a little warmer than you realized?
Welcome Home… Soldat? - @winterarmyy
Y/N had make a habit of greeting Bucky a warm 'welcome home' everytime he came back from his missions, but there was one particular day when she unknowingly greeted someone else.
Heavy Metal Lover - @mypoisonedvine
every client is different, with different needs; but this client is, in every way, exceptional. (Sub!Bucky Barnes + Dominatrix!Reader)
Parent-Teacher Conference - @coffeecatsandcandles
James Barnes, a widowed single dad, had forgotten what love felt like and let it crush him, taking his daughter, Rebecca, with him. He was cold, rude, and arrogant, being one of the few teachers at Westview High School the students seemed to absolutely despise. But when you show up, a hopeful math teacher who’d previously taught Rebecca’s kindergarten class, and are adored by your students and colleagues- James’s attitude starts to change.
Duck & Cover - @whirlybirbs
you’re the howling commandos’ new medic (Sniper!Bucky Barnes)
Winter’s Mate - @maggyme13
The Winter Soldier threatens to get out of control with his instincts taking over more and more. After years of supressed ruts his body built up a resistance and Hydra need to find another solution. Deciding it would be the easiest to just give in. Hydra kidnapped the reader to turn her into a Omega in Heat using injections whenever needed.
Key’s In Your Ignition - @georgiapeach30513
Caught up in a sexual relationship with your father’s Vice President, and trying to not get caught. Blind to everything else that’s going on in the club, and even your old crush, Bucky Barnes. Not even noticing your brother and best friend flirting, until your father suddenly passes, and things in the club drastically change. (Ari Levinson + Bucky Barnes + Harvard Hottie- Hayden)
#chxrrys fic recs#sebastian stan#bucky barnes#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes smut#bucky barnes fic recs#fic recs#sebastian stan x reader#nick fowler#nick fowler x reader
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ヽ｀、☁ヽ｀─── fantasize ミ rodrick heffley
✎ ·˚ ༘ ─── after some “fun in the sun” the heffley’s catch a side of rodrick that they rarely see.
wc: 785
movie!rodrick heffley x fem!reader (use of she/her pronouns)
tw: kissing/making out (?) mentioned
a/n: this was a reblog request :)
RODRICK HAD been known by his to be this “rockstar” who didn’t have much care in the world. He cared more so about his band than his schoolwork and his music more than the chore list that had been miles and miles long that he always made Greg do with the help of Rowley.
But somehow, someway, Rodrick had a small soft spot in his heart for his family and his girlfriend. That spot, though small, could hold the weights of the world and they all knew that in their very special way.
And if girlfriend knew that Rodrick loved her in his own special way.
He wrote songs about her, he invited her to his gigs, he sat around while she study, they made out in the back of his van… all love in his own very special way.
Even now.
It was dark and late into the night when Rodrick had invited her over. She didn’t plan on staying long, not because she didn’t want to, it was because she didn’t want to intrude on the Heffley family dinner, but he, along with Susan, insisted that she was no bother.
But she’d been over for hours and had been cooped up in Rodrick’s room the entire time.
They’d listen to music, they listened to his music, they jumped up and down and called it dancing. They were with each other and this was a side that many people didn’t see of Rodrick, not even his family.
After that, the two of flopped down on Rodrick’s bed. She held her hands over her mouth to stifle her laughter but Rodrick propped himself on his elbow and took his free hand to remove her hands from her mouth.
She continued to stifle her laughs as Rodrick smiled down at her, drawing closer and closer to her lips and gently placed them on top of hers, which quickly made her laughs disappear and more so focus on him.
It was a gentle, exploratory kiss, with Rodrick's lips moving slowly against hers as they both savored the moment. His hand came up to cup her cheek, his thumb brushing back and forth along her skin.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened. She ran her fingers through his tousled hair, enjoying the feel of it under her fingertips.
As the kiss continued, she felt her heartbeat quicken and her breathing grow shallow. She was completely lost in the moment, her whole being focused on the sensation of his lips on hers.
Rodrick's hand moved from her cheek to the back of her head, deepening the kiss even further.
It was like nothing she had ever experienced before, and she never wanted it to end.
THERE WAS a gentle knock on Rodrick’s door and on the other side of it had been his little brother Greg. It wasn’t often that the boy knocked, but he knew that his girlfriend was over and from the previous time… he knew to knock.
But Rodrick nor his girlfriend made any noise on the other side of the door. He continue to knock to let them know that dinner had been ready and they needed to come down to each per Susan’s request.
But again, nothing had been heard on the other side, so he shrugged his shoulders and made his way back downstairs to let his mother know that Rodrick wasn’t answering to his knock.
Susan gently put down her napkin and made her way upstairs into Rodrick’s room. And for Greg? This was gold and was something that could only happen once in his lifetime.
Though he knew that he wouldn’t get into too much trouble by skipping out on dinner, it was enough trouble for Greg to grab his camera and prepare for Rodrick to be completely embarrassed in front of his girlfriend.
So, as soon as Susan knocked on Rodrick’s door, Greg hit record.
“Rodrick, sweetie.” Susan called. “It’s time for dinner.”
But once more, absolutely nothing.
So Susan gently grabbed the doorknob and twisted it open. And inside laid Rodrick and his girlfriend laying in his bed with their eyes shut. Rodrick’s arm draped over her as her hand laid gently interlocked with his.
Her shirt had been swapped with one of Rodrick’s Löded Diper shirt that neither Greg nor Susan commented on.
Greg groaned, cutting his camera off and making their way back downstairs to eat his dinner with his father and little brother, Manny.
Susan held a small smile on her face, her hand over her heart as she gently shut the door behind her, making note to save some of the dinner for the two of them.
— lucy has something to say !!
i feel as if this is short and i’m sad about it sadge
my request are opened! check out my rules and such before request and check out my masterlist to see who i write for!
#rodrick heffley#diary of a wimpy kid#doawk#doawk rodrick#rodrick heffley x reader#doawk imagines#rodrick x reader#rodrick heffley imagines#rodrick heffley imagine#imagines#writing#blurbs#wips
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"Bad Guy" (Dad!jake x Villian Daughter reader)
Summary: Jake didn't just leave you on a rotting planet, he did so much more. He barely showed his fatherly side to you, he was on Marin mode 24/7. The night before he left was what pushed you to the edge, after years of him not returning, was your braking point. He left you, his own daughter and betrayed his own race. If he can do that, what's wrong with leaving behind your own humanity?
TW: Death, mentions of death, child neglect, drinking, manipulation ect.
tag list: @kkkmm @myh3artttt
How far can you push a child's love and loyalty. Till they no longer can tell the difference between the two?
Raising children is known to be a very complicated task. But it was a part of life. Parenting is tricky, anything you do or say will affect your child's behavior.
Jake didn't think like that. You were his first child, a girl at that. Your mother was just a one night stand, but he did know her. She was a friend from before he lost his legs.
When you were born, he was already in a bad spot. So a child being dumbed on him in his situation wasn't the best.
So, when raising you, he tried his best to show you that the planet they were on was cruel, and that you need to fend for yourself sometimes. He might have been harsh with his words, but you had some sort of understanding that it wasn't out of meanness. Jake was strict. Set up curfews, schedule for all classes and hang outs. Knowledge of your whereabouts was a must.
But all of that understanding and balance you two had, was quick to shatter. The night before Jake was to leave for Pandora, he was drinking. Yes, Jake drinks a lot, and you know that.
But his twin brother just passed, for the paper he had in his pocket. Sadly, you came back home 15 minutes late.
So, when you tried to get Jake to bed, he was just complaining about you coming late.
Jake was grumbling something while you were trying to clean up the bottles that were laying around.
He complained about the military, about his parents, the people and his twin.
"And you, Y/n"
You stood in place, watching your father point at you, bottle of alcohol in hand. "You killed your mother . . . and now, you're killing me."
Those words hit you like nothing before.
Jake threw the bottle towards you, it missed, but you wish it did hit you and just killed you.
The next morning, you locked yourself in your room. You refused to open the door. No matter how many times' Jake apologized, no matter how hard he begged.
His words of promises to come back and make it up to you, were probably the only thing that made you feel some type of sympathy. And hey, if he did come back, the two of you might have had a decent father and daughter relationship.
You just had to wait for 6 years or so.
Then 6 years turned into 8. 8 years turned into a decade. Then you got word of what Jake had done.
Betrayed his own race, fell in love with a native and started a whole new family. And on top of that! he got legs! isn't that lovely, good for him. And all Jake had to do was leave his pathetic, no-good daughter on a rotting planet to get the life of his dreams.
The amount of anger you felt could not be explained. Wanting to take revenge, wanting your old man to feel unexplainable pain you had been suffering. You applied for a spot in the RDA. Specifically, in the Daja blue group.
It took a lot of training and strings pulled for you to get in that program. But you got in, and once you showed your skills, you were immediately welcomed in.
"Ms. Sully-"
You held back the urge to give the operator a look, not liking being called but his name. But his name is a part of your plan. You want people to know that you're his, that you came from the same Jake Sully.
"Your Avitar is ready."
You hummed and followed the woman. You two passed many other avatars. Then finally came to a stop at one that oddly looked like you. You stared down at the young body.
You were currently in your mid 20's, but avatars are made to be way younger than you currently were. This one looks about 18 or 19. You didn't mind. As long as the body was capable of handling her plan for Jake.
You must say, Pandora was more beautiful than you expected. Such beauty shouldn't have been wasted on Jake. You honestly didn't care for Quaritche's reasons or his mission in general, all you wanted was to install fear and dread into Jake.
Thankfully, Quaritche seemed to not mind what your little mission was. The only thing you two had in common, was to put Jake down. Break him in unimaginable ways.
"Your one of his" Quaritche mumbled. But you heard what he said. Your ears perked as you slowly made your way to the small Na'vi boy. Now seeing by his fingers and looking closely at his face, he held a close resemblance to Jake, that caused you to stare rather hard.
You kneeled down and looked your half-brother in the eyes. You then heard a voice, a voice that you could never forget. You grabbed the innercom that was still connected to the boy's neck and tossed it to Quaritche. As the older man spoke to Jake, you grabbed your half-brothers face, examining it.
The boy growls and roughly moved his face out of your hand.
"Let us go you demons!" The boy hissed in his native tongue. You scoffed in amusement and took hold of his hand, roughly putting it in front of his face, then put your hand against his. Matching all five fingers.
"We are more similar than you think boy." Your words shocked the boy. Leaving him silent and confused.
You turned to go back to your original position, giving a glance to Jake's daughters. You glared at the smallest one.
When Jake brought the fight to them. Quaritche let you have a little time alone with Jake.
Your tail swished from side to side before pouching on Jake. Your fighting style was sloppy, but in a way that was nearly always unpredictable. Almost like you were some kind of; savage.
Jake threw you off him, causing you to land on all fours against a nearby tree. You hissed as you stood up slowly, your tail flickering side to side, your eyes had never left him.
"So mean papa. That really hurt" You licked the blood from your lips as you gave the man a toothy grin.
Jake frowns, that voice, was for some reason familiar to him. His eyes squinted as the figure stepped closer into the moonlight. Once you were in the light, it took him a second, but even in Na'vi form. He recognizes his own daughter.
"Y/n . . . ?"
Jake dropped his weapons as he slowly approached you.
"Y/n, my baby! how-" His hands hovered over your skin, before you stepped away.
The two of you stared at each other, in compleate silence. Suddenly, the sound of a helecopter came. You sighed
"Oh well, guess our time is up." You say in a disappointing tone, you turned to walk off and get back to the group.
"Next time, I won't go easy on ya!" You say with a playful tone, but the noticeable sadistic look you had said otherwise.
Chaos unlashed itself upon the Sully family. The children of Jake demanding to know more about the Avitar woman who claimed to also be a Sully. That night, Jake and Neytiri had to explain that Jake had a daughter back on earth, and the moment he betrayed his own race, he lost privileges of trying to bring his daughter to Pandora or at least try and contact her.
Jake thought about you every day, every second. Every time he treated his sons like soldiers, he was reminded of you, and what he had said that fitful night.
Lo'ak laid awake that night. Your words spinning in his mind. That small talk of how his father truly was. How Jake treated her worse than he was with them now. Lo'ak can barely tolerate how their father is now, so just thinking about how strict or harsh he was with you. He understood you were probably hurt, but he thought of some way to make you see what Lo'ak saw when Jake spoke about you. How much love he had with each word for you, speaking about you like he would for any of his children.
When Jake first saw you again, it was like a dream come true, but now, he feels like he sees you everywhere. You're becoming a nightmare for him, all because of that first interaction you two had, if you knew of this, you would be laughing at how pathetic Jake was to easily be this way.
Even though Neytiri saw you as a traitor and a threat to her family, Jake still saw you as his little girl. His sweet baby girl that he left. The little girl he had the nerve to treat like a soldier. Guess this was Jake's harsh reminder that he was raising a daughter back then.
The Jake now can never imagine treating Kiri and Tuk the way he did with you, it hurts him.
You didn't want to hurt anyone but Jake. That doesn't mean you care for the life around you, no, if killing the ones Jake loved the most would drive Jake to the breaking point like you wished? you would have done that long ago.
You kneeled down to Lo'ak and made sure he was tied properly.
"Why are you doing this! aren't you, our sister??" Lo'ak was trying to reason with you. Trying to make you see what you were doing was wrong. You sighed and gave him a small smile while caressing his head.
"Oh, sweet little brother. You are too young to understand."
"I wan't daddy . . ." Tuk mumbled out a small whine. You shifted your eyes to her.
You stepped back and examined the two. "you two think our father is such a hero. A noble man who loves his family more than anything. But your wrong, the moment you slip up, he turns on you. . . . Did you know what he said to me before he left?"
Lo'ak and Tuk stayed silent as they kept their eyes on you.
"He said that all I had to do was wait for 6 years, then he'll be back, and make up for what he had done to me. Then 6 years turn into 8, then it turned into a decade. . . . It took 10 years for me to realize I didn't need him. And that he didn't want me." You never told your small sob story to anyone, and you surprisingly didn't feel that shitty about what your life had become.
"Your wrong."
Lo'aks words brought you back. You tilt your head a little.
"Oh?"
"Dad loves you! He told us what happened and he's sorry. He regrets everything and all he wants is you to be with him again! h-he loves you and always did." You hum in amusement
"He loves me . . . . How interesting."
Your plan just changed, and in the best way possible.
Jake didn't mean too. He didn't mean to shout at you that night, he didn't mean to leave you behind like he did, he didn't mean to turn you into what you had become now.
You coughed up blood, holding your stomach tight, where the stab wound was.
And most of all, he didn't mean for this to happen. Not to you . . . not by him of all people
"Y/n- I didn't . . . please come with me. Your hurt!" Jake pleaded. You stumbled back and hit the metal wall. You laughed as you slid down to the ground. You slowly looked up to Jake with teary eyes.
It really hurts. The burning pain was like nothing you felt before.
Jake rushed to your side and tried to lift you up. You stopped him and gripped his shoulder. "Hey, you love me . . . yeah?"
Jake didn't hesitate to answer "Yes! I love you. I love you so much." Jake held back a sob as he moved strands of hair away from your face. You sighed and slowly looked back up to him.
"Then, if you truly love me. You should take responsibility for this." Jake's ears slicked back.
"W-what?"
Your eyes were stone cold. Void of any emotion.
"Finish what you started--" You grabbed onto Jake's hand, the one he still had his blade in. Your blood stained with the sharp object.
"-- And if you truly loved me, you'd end it for me already."
Jake shook his head "no, I can still save you! you still have time-"
You cut Jake off "Look, Jake. My time is up. No use for pity now." You were rather done at this point. Just wanting it to be over with.
Jake took a long moment. But it happened. You held eye contact with your father as he stuck the blade in you once more, finishing you off. His salty tears mixing with the blood on your face.
Jake Sully lost his daughter that day. By killing her with his own hands.
So, in short, remember parents that children can be quite fragile in their early stages of life.
They can and will remember everything.
#avatar#kiri avatar#jake sully x daughter reader#avatar jake#neytiri#lo'ak x sister!reader#lo'ak sully#neteyam sully#tuk sully#mental health#avatar twow#avatar x sully!reader#avatar x reader
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AITA for taking pictures of my sister's house and not deleting them?
I (25f) and my adopted sister L (also 25) have grown up together since we were babies and are extremely close. I truly love her and want the best for her.
She has been married for 5 years to D (25m). They dated since they were 18 and got married at 20. I never had an issue with him except at times I thought he was immature. They have a kid together who is adorable and about to turn 3.
However, as they have been married i have an issue with him. I don't hate anyone, but he is highest on my shit list. Not an exhaustive list but he has (and I want to make this clear THESE ARE THINGS I HAVE WITNESSED I AM NOT LISTING THINGS SHE ONLY HAS TOLD ME ABOUT):
Whenever they argue yells at her. Even in front of guests (ahem me). She'll yell back and then he gets upset she is "raising her voice" at him, when he started it.
He won't let her get a job. He has canceled her applications for jobs before. She has sold some stuff online until he sold the materials she used to make things. Her only "income" is if he decides to give her an allowance and transfer money from his account to hers (please note they have BOTH their names on the accounts but one is considered hers one his). If she takes money from his account he gets mad. Bills, groceries, etc. Come from "her" account
Was always sweet but now uses her as jokes to his friends. Demeans her in front of them.
They move a state over after they got married, almost 5 hours away. Doable in one day, but many don't like to do it. Since being married, she has effectively not seen any of her friends except when they come into town to visit. I have went to visit her and one of her friends did, that friend confided they did not feel comfortable or welcome. That doesn't bother me cause personally I don't give a shit what D thinks and am there for my sister and nephew. But I have overheard D talk bad about all her friends, even me, snd encourage her not to talk to them.
The two friends she has made in the area D has told her to drop because they are "bad influences". The worst thing one has done was medical Marijuana that was prescribed to them. Not sure how they are bad except they've encouraged her to get a job and be more independent
D decided to get a cat, which my sister has a known allergy to. She didn't want the cat, but D brought it home. It has absolutely zero training and has destroyed their home. It pees everywhere, including my nephew's bed. It hates absolutely everyone except D, even attacking my sister for sitting on the couch next to D. D refuses to get rid of the thing even though it has scratched my sister and nephew multiple times and my nephew is afraid of it
Of course, there's more, but those are all things I have witnessed. The last part is what prompted me to take pictures of the bed that was peed on, the scratches on the kid and my sister. My sister showed me texts of her begging D to get rid of the cat and to me it seemed he threatened her, so I took a picture of that.
I personally believe D is an abusive prick. Definitely financially and emotionally, but not physically unless you consider neglect or him keeping the cat. He has never once hit my nephew or my sister that I have seen, and she has never stated he has. My sister has talked about leaving but then goes back to him, and I know on the outside it seems clear to me what to do but I know there is a cycle of abuse. When she is ready to leave him, she knows she can come to me and our parents.
However, D found out I took the photos. He called me drunk and extremely irate, but he didn't explicitly threaten me. It was implied. He called me an asshole, which is what made me think of this. He told me to delete the photos and that upon me doing so, he will get couples therapy.
On one hand I know they need therapy. On the other, what's to prove he will do this after I do that? My sister is begging me to delete the photos because she believes if they have therapy things will improve.
To be specific: D wants to be there when I delete them and make sure they are gone and to me that just proves how bad of a person he is because he doesn't want any evidence of any wrongdoing. My sister has sent me multiple texts and I know she has been trying to make a way for things in case it does go south, but she is afraid the inlaws will attempt for custody because apparently the inlaws have a bit of money and know the judge in our area. I dont want these photos to be used against her either...
AITA for not deleting them?
What are these acronyms?
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1.1 Major
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader
Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, slight objectification of men.
Word Count: 1.6k
Previously On...: Lily McIntyre met Bucky Barnes. Everything had changed, and now it's only him that matters.
A/N: You know what? Fuck it. Turns out I write more when I'm actively writing for all of you. Plus, I miss you, besties. Yes, I know-- it's only been two days, but I don't care. You guys give me the strength to face the day, and when I'm interacting with you, I'm happiest. So, we're starting the full roll-out of With Friends Like These... Now, there won't be multiple postings per day, so I won't be dropping a bunch at once. We're going to start nice and slow, lol. I hope you like it!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
You stood outside the door to the bar, nervous as fuck. It wasn’t every day a girl got invited to spend an evening out on the town with the goddamned Avengers, and though you’d only known Natasha Romanoff for about six months now, you were honored she liked you enough to extend an invitation for you to join her and her friends on their off time.
Giving yourself a once over in the reflection of the bar’s window, you double checked to make sure you looked good– your hair and makeup were on point, your dark wash skinny jeans hugged your curves in the best possible way, and the black satiny top you wore under your leather jacket showed just enough cleavage to be tantalizing, but not trashy.
You got this, you told yourself. You took a breath, and walked inside.
The place was dimly lit, but not too crowded. You were able to spot Natasha easily– it wasn’t as if the striking redhead was hard to miss. She sat at a high top with another redhead, nursing a vodka tonic. Catching her eye, you waved and made your way over.
“Major!” Nat greeted you, going in for a friendly hug, which you happily returned. “I’m so glad you made it!” She pointed to the other redhead– Wanda Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch, you remembered now from having seen her on the news– and introduced you. “Major, this is Wanda; Wanda, Major.” You shook hands as the other woman offered you a kind, welcoming smile.
“Finally, some balance to the force,” she joked. At your questioning look, she elaborated: “We are desperately outnumbered in the girl department when it comes to our friend group,” she said. “It’s just me and Nat versus the boys.”
“There’s Lily, too,” Nat interjected.
“Please.” Wanda said, waving Nat’s words off dismissively. “We all know that Lily is not one of us.”
Nat snorted into her drink. “Lily’s just not really a girl’s-girl,” she offered to you in explanation. “Very much sees herself as ‘one of the guys,’ if you catch my meaning.”
You nodded; you’d had plenty of experience with pick-me girls in the past. “Yeah, I know the type.” You waved down a waitress and put in an order for a frozen margarita.
“So, Major,” Wanda said, taking a sip of her beverage once the waitress had gone, “which one of our lucky bachelors is going to catch your eye tonight?”
“I don’t follow,” you said, confused.
Wanda turned to Nat and playfully hit her on the shoulder. “You bitch! You didn’t tell her?”
Nat had the decency to look sheepish. “I wanted it to be organic,” she said, offering you an apologetic smile.
“Natasha Romanoff,” you said, realization dawning on you, “did you invite me out tonight to try and set me up with one of your teammates?”
Nat frowned, looking remorseful. “I know I should have said something, but you’re always complaining about how you never have luck with dating, and it just so happens I live in a compound literally full of eligible men, so I thought… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”
The waitress brought over your margarita and you raised it, toasting to Nat. “Fuck apologies; you want to hook me up with an Avenger? Girl, remind me to send you a gift basket!”
Nat and Wanda both laughed, raising their own glasses to toast with you. Wanda leaned over toward you, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.
“Alright, don’t be obvious about it,” she said, “but our fine gentlemen are over at the pool table.” You followed her line of sight and were met with an array of some of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Yeah, you’d seen them on tv, and in magazines, but they were always wearing costumes and masks. But up close? And in person?
“Woof,” you said softly.
“Okay,” said Nat, leaning in on your other side. “Let’s size up our options. First, we’ve got Captain America, himself, Steve Rogers. All-American, corn-fed, take-home-to-mamma kinda guy. Such a gentleman, could bench press four of you. Knows how to treat a girl right.”
“And bore her to tears,” Wanda added.
“Wands!” Nat flashed her eyes. “We’re supposed to be talking them up!”
Wanda shrugged. “Facts are facts,” she said. “A sweetheart, really, but very old fashioned.”
“Fine,” Nat said, exasperated. “Moving on, we have Sam Wilson, our resident Falcon. He’s funny, charming, a great dancer.”
“Seriously good moves,” Wanda added with an enthusiastic nod.
“Smart, good listener,” Nat offered. “Incredibly loyal.”
“You make him sound like a puppy,” you said, laughing.
“Oooh, oooh, my turn!” Wanda said enthusiastically. “Next up is our resident himbo, the one and only Thor Odinson. Unbelievably endearing, the body of a literal god: Great hair, an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, arms that could snap your tiny little body right in half if he had half a mind to…”
“Down, girl,” Nat said, flicking some droplets of water from her water glass at Wanda. “Damn, we’re here for Major, not you.”
“Sorry,” said Wanda, ducking down to hide her blush behind her hair. “He’s just so… big. And… beefy. Like, what does one even do with that much man?” she asked, before muttering so low you could barely hear her: “I would really like to find out.”
You and Nat stifled your laughter. “Okay, definitely not going to be Thor for me, then,” you offered. Across the room, another man caught your eye, one Nat and Wanda hadn’t mentioned yet. “Who’s that?” you asked them.
Nat craned her neck. “Oh, that’s Parker. I dunno; he’s kinda on the young side for my taste, but the kid is 18, so if that’s what you’re into–”
“Ugh, no– pass,” you said, realizing she had been referring to the skinny teenager who was hanging on Steve Rogers’ every word. “No, I mean the brunet. Who’s he?” The more you studied him, the more you realized he just may be the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was currently leaning against a pool cue, engrossed in conversation with Sam. He had a slight smirk on his face, as if he was keeping in a very humorous secret, and it painted his features in an adorably boyish light.
While you were looking at him, he turned his head and saw you watching him. You should have been mortified at being caught staring but instead, you were taken aback by how striking his crystal blue eyes were. You offered him a soft smile, and were delighted when his own widened in return, his cheeks taking on a dusky hue in the low light, before Sam elbowed him, bringing his attention back to the game of pool. He shot you another look, running his tongue along his bottom lip, before refocusing his attention.
“Oh,” said Nat, following your gaze. “Oh, no, no, no. That’s Bucky Barnes. He’s… not on the menu.”
You turned back toward her, disappointed. “Oh. Of course, guy that good looking’s got to have a girlfriend, right?”
Nat and Wanda exchanged glances. “Not exactly,” Nat said.
“Remember how we mentioned Lily not being a girl’s-girl?” Wanda asked, nodding her chin toward where the boys were racking the balls for a new game. You hadn’t noticed the woman in their midst before– petite, blond, and athletic.
“Yeah, Lily’s more of a Bucky’s-girl,” Nat added. “Just, you know, Bucky’s not aware of it.”
You must have looked very confused, because Wanda was quick to clarify. “Bucky only joined the team… what? Four years ago?” She looked to Nat for confirmation, and Nat nodded. “He was like a totally different guy back then. Didn’t go out, didn’t want to be around people.”
“Like Oscar the Grouch, but if you took him out of the trash can and gave him moderately better grooming standards,” Nat offered.
“Yeah,” Wanda continued, nodding in agreement, “and for the longest time, the only person he would talk to was Steve. But then, like, Lily made it her life’s work to become his best friend.”
“I remember it annoyed the shit out of him in the beginning,” Nat added. “Poor guy just wanted to be left alone to process his trauma.” She sighed. “But the girl was relentless. She’s got tenacity, I’ll say that for her.”
“That’s actually kind of sweet,” you said. “That she wouldn’t give up trying to be there for him.”
“No, sorry,” Nat said. “We’re not explaining this well. She basically made being Bucky’s best friend her entire fucking personality. It was like, any other friend she had just–poof! Stopped existing to her. We no longer mattered; everything became about Bucky.”
“It’s a bit much,” Wanda said. “She’s very… I don’t want to say protective is the right word for it, but very possessive of him.”
“It’s like no girl Bucky’s ever dated has been good enough to pass her standards,” Nat said. “And she’s had no problem making that abundantly clear, and I know she’s been the reason for at least a couple of his relationships ending. Poor guy’s balls must be so blue by now, they’re practically black; she never lets him get any action.”
You took a sip of your margarita. “Well, they’ve got to be sleeping together, right?” you asked. Nat and Wanda both looked at you. “I mean, that would explain it, right?”
“Oh, they are definitely not,” Nat said. “Though I’m sure she wishes. I heard him tell Steve she reminds him of his dead kid sister.”
You sucked in a breath. “Ouch,” you said. “Just what every girl wants to hear, I’m sure.” You looked back over to the pool table, admiring the way Bucky bent over to take a shot. “It’s too bad,” you said, turning back to girls. “I mean, he’s hot as hell, but no man’s worth taking on that kind of drama.”
<- Previous Part / Next Part ->
#bucky barnes x reader#bucky barnes x you#bucky barnes x y/n#bucky x you#bucky x reader#bucky fanfic#bucky barnes#bucky barnes fanfic#bucky x female reader#bucky barnes fic#bucky barnes fanfiction#james bucky buchanan barnes#james buchanan barnes#mcu bucky barnes#james barnes
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I just got a tattoo done and was thinking about all of the before and after care instructions they gave me and how older Eddie would have possibly reacted to the list of things he would need to do or items to purchase for a new addition to his sleeve.
The artist reaches out to Eddie years after corroded coffin makes it big. She's fairly well known as a minor celebrity herself in the tattoo and body modification space in LA, so when she contacts Eddie's agent about offering a new piece for his eclectic sleeve he checks out her portfolio and is immediately sold.
She sends him the idea and he signs off on it right away and before they know it, he and Steve are on a plane from Chicago to Los Angeles.
It isn't until it's done, and the second skin is placed over the piece, smoothed out to ensure no bubbling, that Eddie balks at the secondary list of steps he needs to take.
The artist taps out the instruction email on her phone, hitting send with a dimpled grin before reaching out to shake his hand and Steve's, thanking them for being such great new clients. She asks Steve if he would be interested in a piece at some point, to which he smiles politely and shakes his head.
Steve has never been into tattoos for himself, though he's always gone to great lengths to admire and kiss each piece on Eddie's body.
Eddie half listens as they continue to chat, pulling out his phone to review the email she sent him.
"Ensure that you leave the second skin on for three to five days and upon its removal (see removal instructions on page two)..."
Eddie has to stop himself from rolling his eyes right then and there. It's not as though this is his first ever tattoo, he's been getting ink since before this girl was even born.
He winces at the thought, reminding himself that just because she's young doesn't mean she doesn't know her shit, and she clearly does. He shakes his head and nods when Steve says goodbye for them and they make their way to the elevator.
"Okay, what's with the face?" Steve asks quietly as soon as the door closes.
Eddie sighs and folds his arms over his chest, careful not to bump the now tender area on his forearm.
"You look like you swallowed a lemon, spill," he reaches out for Eddie's shoulder, his warm hazel eyes, now lined with gentle wrinkles at the edges search his face, "do you not like it?"
Eddie barks out a laugh, "it's probably one of the nicest ones in the whole collection, no Stevie, it's not that".
Steve raises his eyebrow now and just looks at Eddie until the elevator dings and the doors open before them.
God Dammit.
He loves and hates this ability, that Steve knows Eddie will crack eventually if he just waits long enough.
"Fine!" Eddie sighs as they make their way back to the hotel.
It's gorgeous out, nothing like the weather back home right now, the palm trees lining the streets and the twinkling fairy lights on every corner gives the area an almost magical feel, despite the bustling pedestrians packing the sidewalks.
"It's a little weird all the instructions," Eddie says eventually. He speaks slowly, doing his best to articulate exactly what he feels.
Steve nods, though the confused pinch between his brow doesn't quite fade.
"And I've been getting these done since it eighties, Steve, it's just a little--"
Eddie growls and tugs on his hair in frustration, "I don't want to be shitty".
Steve shrugs and loops his arm around Eddie's small waist, tugging him closer.
"Be shitty, you know I love it," he grins and lifts his free hand to remove Eddie's from his hair, "what about the instructions made you upset?"
"It's like I'm being talked down to," Eddie says with a frown, "I got a stick and poke from Jeff in '84 that was totally fine with out any of this," he lifts his arm now to show off the shiny second skin to Steve who nods.
"And which one was that again?" Steve asks, there's a leading lilt to his voice that makes Eddie want to sit on the sidewalk.
He huffs out a low whine, "Steve--"
"Eddie," Steve answers with a soft smile.
And Eddie knows he's lost this argument, if you could even call it that, because the bats that Jeff did for him all the way back in '84, have since been covered up.
Over the years they had morphed into six blobs of bluish grey on the back of his forearm that could no longer be distinguishable as bats, and after being asked about his 'abstract' tattoos by an interviewer a few years back, he had made the decision to get them covered.
And it could have been any number of things that lead to the eventual fading and blobification of his bats, but Eddie figured it was probably because they had almost immediately gotten infected a few days after Jeff had finished them in his parents garage.
Eddie clears his throat and opens the email on his phone again, taking another look at the list the artist had sent him.
"Fine, you gonna help me take care of this thing Stevie?" Eddie grumbles as they enter the revolving door of the hotel, stepping carefully into the pie shaped section to avoid colliding with the moving entryway.
Steve snorts and lets his hand curl through one of the belt loops on Eddie's jeans, "I think I remember agreeing to something like that, in sickness and health?"
He leans forward and nuzzels his nose into Eddie's ear, "till the end of our days".
#i like the ending but im not sure how well if fits for this little drabble#steve harrington#eddie munson#stranger things#afewproblems writes#tattoos#steddie#older established steddie#steve x eddie#let them be grumpy old men that think they know better than the whippersnappers#these guys were born in the 60s they would probably have this immediate gut reaction#got sappy in the end#but i wanted it#had my own tattoo done this weekend and i was so surprised by the before and aftercare list
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One Of Us - Leah Williamson x Reader
(Not my image)
Based on the song ‘One of Us’ by ABBA
———
Arsenal wasn't Arsenal without you.
Since 2006, when she arrived at Arsenal, still only a girl, she'd had you.
Even in 2014, when Leah had been promoted to the senior squad, you'd been right behind her. It was only right you made your debuts together, as best friends.
There had always been something more than friendship there. Being young, you'd both been to blind to see it, until Jordan Nobbs had made a pass at Leah at one of the famous Arsenal Halloween parties and you'd lost your head.
"I don't get what your mad about!" She'd chased after you once she'd seen you storm out. You'd argued on the way back to your shared apartment, about 10 minutes away from the house you'd been at.
"You really don't get it?! That I've been in love with you since before I even knew what love was. That it's always been you, that it always will be you. And I fucking missed my chance to tell you because I didn't want to ruin a 10 year friendship!" You shouted.
She didn't respond, only placed her lips onto yours and promised you that she felt the same way.
Life was good. Playing together, going home together, being together. It was all you'd even known, until one day it wasn't.
Whilst Leah broke through into regular minutes in the first team, you struggled immensely. You and Leah both played in the midfield, and with the senior players he already had in that position, he really didn't need two of the exact same player coming in. Leah's connection with the team landed her in favor, she'd always been the one to make friends on behalf of the both of you, and in this case your quietness had been the reason for your downfall.
As a result, Pedro frequently criticized your playing style, and began not even listing you as a substitute.
You felt your world falling apart, Arsenal was all you had even known, Leah was all you'd ever known, but you knew you were better than a reserve player.
He called you into his office after a particular good training session, but had quickly ruined your mood.
"I only need one player, between you and Leah, you need to fight and prove to me why it should be you. The January window is fast approaching, don't let it be you I sell."
You arrived home in despair. Leah was quick to comfort you, asking what was wrong, but you were in no state to tell her about the conversation you'd just had.
She held you that evening, lips brushing over your cheeks as she whispered sweet nothings over and over again.
And so I dealt you the blow
One of us had to go
Leah's expression was unreadable at breakfast. The revelation of your conversation with Pedro had hit her. She enjoyed her life, playing for her childhood club, whilst also being with the love of her life every day. She didn't want things to change.
That week she'd been quiet at home, and distant at practice. Everyone else had noticed the shift in dynamic between the two of you too, eyes watching both of you.
By Friday you'd had enough, entering Pedro's office after training to tell him that you'd be looking for a new club in January, and that you'd made his decision easier.
To say Leah was upset was an understatement.
"Why wouldn't you talk to me before making a decision like that! This isn't just about you, this is about our future too!" She yelled.
"I did this for you! So you didn't have to leave the club you care about most! I don't want you to resent me for being the reason you leave."
"No instead I resent you for leaving me!" She screamed.
Now it's different, I want you to know
She could never resent you, not really. Even though she might have hated you in the moment, the minute your stuff was out the door and you were gone, she regretted every word she said.
You hated the way you left, the veil of darkness that cloaked every corner of your house in awkward tension. Leah barely spoke a word, watching as you gradually packed up your things. She knew she couldn't be in the house when you left for good.
Leaving your key on the table you walked away. And when Leah came home to find it, she knew it was the end of everything.
One of us is crying, one of us is lying
In a lonely bed
Staring at the ceiling
Wishing she was somewhere else instead
6 months was not enough time for Leah to get over you. She put on a front for her teammates, acting like it didn't hurt to partner up with Jordan for passing drills, or seeing the new signing with your number on her back.
Your cubby hadn't stayed empty for long either, a reshuffle in the locker room had meant the new signing sat where you used to. Leah couldn't even look over there, the fact that your eyes wouldn't be looking back at her in reassurance.
For a while Leah couldn't go home. It felt empty without the little bits of you. Leah hated the way you'd leave your keys on the counter instead of on the hook by the door, but now she wished she was able to complain as she put them on the hook herself.
After a while, your pillow stopped smelling like you too. Before she'd cry into it, the smell soothing her into a false sense of security, one in which she could pretend she was in your arms.
Instead, she was alone. The bed seemed bigger without you. She was just a body. Staring at the ceiling as she wiped her tears, wishing she was wherever you were, next to you.
One of us is lonely, one of us is only
Waiting for a call
Sorry for herself, feeling stupid, feeling small
Wishing she had never left at all
The move was tough. You'd moved out of the country, to a club where you couldn't speak the native tongue. It was hard fitting in, making friends. You'd never been good at it, not really. All your friends had been Leah's, she was always the one who introduced you to new people, knowing just how shy you were around everyone other than her.
Maybe Leah was right, maybe you should've stayed, figured something out together. Your solution had left you feeling more alone than ever, going home to your own pity party after practice.
You were stupid to think Leah would call, but still you sat by the phone hoping that every notification that pinged would be one from her.
They way you left should've been the first sign, you knew it was over, you knew she was done. But still you hopelessly pined over her, hoping she missed you just as much as you missed her.
You shouldn't have left. You shouldn't have left her
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Hi, I was just wondering if you could do fem!reader x Vox, Alastor, Lucyfer (separately) when reader cooks/bakes something for them (since I'm in culinary school). I want so bad to see their reactions on their meal. It can be something sweet or salty - your choice :)
I really like your work, you just do it so well♡
Thank you in advace.
If you like what I’m doing consider tipping me for priority requests & access to characters I don’t usually write for.
Alastor
Alastor considers himself a rather good cook. He also has very specific tastes.
It takes a lot to impress him but it is manageable.
He’s never downright mean unless it’s downright awful (like you burnt milk somehow)
However, he is somewhat firm in his opinions.
He gives critiques when you make anything that’s not specifically creole which normally boils down to “not bloody enough” or “measure spice with your heart, not a recipe.”
If you do make him things that originate from creole culture, he is in the kitchen with you.
He’s looking over your shoulder, never saying anything but making small noises of impressed or disapproval.
Those are the dishes where his critique is actually helpful.
The day he actually closes his eyes with a sigh is the day you know you’ve done something right.
Lucifer
Lucifer dabbles in cooking just a bit. Not a lot. He can cook simple things but he can cook.
He will be easily impressed.
You made homemade brownies? You’re so amazing and great and talented!
You made rolls? On everything unholy, you are the most impressive thing on earth. (Hit me up if you want a copycat Texas Roadhouse roll recipe. I’ve been hit up for it.)
He is just constantly impressed and constantly singing your praises.
He would go to Bee and ask her if she would add any restaurants you may want to have to her BeeEats app options.
Of course Bee says yes.
You get all the funding you want if owning a restaurant or bakery is on your wish list.
You will soon be known as the best chef in Hell.
Vox
Vox’s good palette is very bland.
Yes, he can enjoy some Italian food or French food or fast food or really just white food.
This man can’t handle anything spicy.
He can’t.
At all.
Don’t make him spicy food. He will think he’s dying a second time.
He does know how to cook though. Knows more than Lucifer but less than Alastor.
Because of that, he’s not going to be giving you pointers on how to better cook but he will watch.
He likes to watch you cook. It’s soothing.
If you’re open to it, he might even get you a cooking show spot or at the very least a guest star spot.
He’s impressed by your cooking, certainly but he will try to act like he’s just mildly impressed when in fact he’s more impressed than that.
“Mmm, that’s good, doll.” Meanwhile he’s just vibrating on the inside.
If you like what I’m doing consider commissioning me for canon/canon stories AND personalized canon/reader stories.
#vox x reader#hazbin vox x reader#alastor x reader#hazbin alastor x reader#hazbin lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader
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I just noticed a very interesting note in Alastor's ad in episode 1...
Who in Hazbin Hotel is the most associated with circus decor?
Lucifer.
Less than 5 min into episode 1 and we already get a hint that Alastor isn't a big fan of Lucifer.
Which is interesting because it implies that Alastor disliked Lucifer before he even involved himself with the hotel. They hadn't even met yet.
It's such a weirdly specific thing to add to a commercial too. Because when I think hotel, circus decor wouldn't be anywhere on my list of expectations.
It's clearly targeted towards Lucifer. An indirect insult Alastor probably had wanted Lucifer to see.
If this is the case, some of Alastor's commentary can be looked at slightly differently.
Lines like "Lucifer's delusional daughter", "Daddy issues" and the other insulting commentary can then also be partly aimed at Lucifer.
Which would probably be effective hits because Lucifer definitely wouldn't be happy about someone offending his daughter, but the "Daddy issues" line would probably make him feel guilt.
It's as if Alastor wanted to pick a fight the first chance he got to potentially reach Lucifer.
But like...why?
In episode 5 we have a reasonable explanation for why Alastor is poking at Lucifer. Alastor likes to be in control and have power over others, however even he knows Lucifer is more powerful than him. Therefore he aims at Lucifer's relationship with Charlie (which is what the dad comments are really about) to regain some of that power.
Which is why it doesn't make any sense for him to indirectly target Lucifer in episode 1.
Why pick a fight with the King of Hell when he barely had anything to hold over Lucifer?
When this ad was made, Charlie had known Alastor for only a week and therefore claiming to be close to her would be weird.
Heck, Alastor is even insulting Charlie and the hotel here, which definitely doesn't give him any favour from her.
Another point could be that Alastor is also partly annoyed at having to make a video. He probably doesn't expect it to air. But that still doesn't explain why he'd deliberately add a note directed at Lucifer.
So.....What's the deal here Alastor?
There isn't a clear reason for doing this.
The only one I can guess that makes some sense is that Alastor just wanted to feel some sense of power by indirectly insulting Lucifer, who is the most powerful being in all of Hell. Getting a chance to hit him where it hurts would probably bring Alastor a lot of satisfaction.
Another option is that it could be related to Lilith, if she turned out to be the one he made a deal with. It could be that Alastor's frustration over his deal makes him want to take it out on Lucifer (since he obviously can't take it out on Charlie). Lilith telling him to do it is possible, but I find it unlikely. Unless her real motive was pushing Lucifer out of his isolation and back into Charlie's life. Still find it unlikely tho.
In the end, it still feels weird for Alastor to be this intent on picking on Lucifer this early on. Taking advantage of the first opportunity to have a message reach Lucifer, despite Alastor neither having power or leverage over him if Lucifer had responded.
So...Alastor...
Care to spill the tea on why you're being so pissy?
(Sorry, couldn't resist-)
EDIT: I just realized how funny it is that despite saying there is no tacky circus decor, the hotel itself is FULL of it XD
Now that I think about it, that might actually be the joke behind the note.
(Admittedly, this might just be a fun bit of foreshadowing and doesn't really have any deeper meaning)
(Also, Lucifer's circus decor isn't tacky. I'd definitely be down for staying at a hotel with his aesthetic and decor. But, maybe that's just me)
(It kinda reminds me of how Vox immediately went to send a message to Alastor on TV the moment he learned of his return XD)
#Alastor is gone for 7 years and only one week after he returns he is already trying to pick a fight with Lucifer#can't wait to see their dynamic in season 2 XD#hazbin hotel#alastor#lucifer morningstar#hazbin lucifer#hazbin alastor#alastor and lucifer
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