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buryustogether · 11 months

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lilac - chapter 4

miguel o’hara x f!reader

summary: you accidentally overhear a conversation between miguel and his ai at work.

wc: 4.5k

warnings/tags: domestic lifestyle, mentions of violence, mentions of choking and death, swearing, mentions of office sex, strippers, sex workers, strip club, private dances, cuddling

author’s note: he’s so lana del rey coded guys

Anybody with experience knew that trying to keep twenty third graders together was like herding cats. Anybody with further experience knew that keeping twenty third graders together in a sharp, sleek, trillion-dollar facility like Alchemax was like herding cats who were soaking wet and high on all the catnip they could have stuffed their stupid little faces with in the span of five minutes.

“Alexander,” you snapped as you helped your coworker count little bodies as they piled off the bus. “If I have to tell you one more time to keep your hands off James, I’m going to drive this bus myself back to school and give you a fifty-page packet while everyone else here has fun.”

While your words had the effect you hoped they did, you wouldn’t exactly classify a field trip to Alchemax as fun. It was a megacorporation that dabbled in exploits from clean energy to genetics to god knew whatever else they did in there between those fancy metal walls. The building looked as though it should have come straight from a sci-fi film compared to the other foundations on the block, all floor-to-ceiling windows and fifty-some floors and armed guards that stood at the front doors. Certainly not a place to take a field trip with a bunch of nine year olds. Again, you would have thought some place like the zoo or even an interactive museum would have been better, but when the principal wanted something, she got it.

To be honest, you had a suspicion she was hooking up with one of the guards here, but you had nothing to prove your theory.

Like the pack of raging little animals that they were, your students filed across the front way of the building and up the stone stairs to the doors, where they waited in a mass of wiggles and excited spasms. Each of them held their partner’s hand, a rule you pressed with each field trip. Going into a freaky building like this, you almost wished you had a hand to hold yourself.

“That’s all of them,” said your coworkers, one of the three teachers who had come to chaperone the trip. She looked up from her clipboard of names, double checking each kid as you both followed the crowd of children up the steps. “Christ, this is going to be a shitshow. I just know we’re going to be escorted out of here after… I don’t know, a molecular leveler gets demolished by tiny, sticky hands.”

You snuffed out a little snort, reaching up to adjust the necklace perched about your collarbones. In your free hand, you carried a coffee cup that still had the tab in; it wasn’t for you. “I think it’ll be alright,” you said, but not nearly as confidently as you would have liked. “We had an entire assembly over this.”

“And since when has that ever helped?” She followed your movements, her eyes trailing over your form. You blinked at her. “Are you wearing lipstick?”

“Hah! No…!” Quickly, before she could ask any more questions, you turned away and pressed your lips to your sleeve, trying to wipe off some of the excess lipstick you’d applied right before leaving the school. Fuck, it was too much, wasn’t it?

Definitely too much for popping in to visit during a school field trip when you should have been watching your kids.

After passing through multiple tall, sleek-looking metal detectors (and scolding a few kids for bringing their phones when they were specifically told to leave them at school), you met the man who would be giving the tour of the facility in the lobby. Overhead, modern-art-classified light fixtures hung from the ceiling like someone had captured starlight and crammed it into bulbs. A cafeteria filled with scientists and researchers and everyone in between stood to your left, each of them donned in a stark white lab coat. Some of them spoke on phones, others clacked away on laptops and futuristic-looking tablets with such an intensity you would have thought they were taking a test for their lives. A few of them spared a glace or two at your group, but they didn’t last long. Apparently field trips to designated areas in the building were normal.

You heard the tour guide talking animatedly to the kids, but his words didn’t quite register as you kept your head on a swivel, searching out something specific. After a moment, when you leaned back on the heels of your feet, you found what you were looking for; the elevators.

“Hey,” you said to your coworker as the kids began to move deeper into the lobby, “will you cover for me? I’ve got to run to the restroom real quick.”

After they had moved along to where they couldn’t see you, you grasped the coffee cup tighter in your grasp and made a beeline for the elevators. Your footsteps against the polished marble seemed deafening as you quickened your pace, realizing the cup wasn’t as hot as it had been earlier. How fucking humiliating would it be if you brought him cold coffee? There was a part of you that knew, really, he wouldn’t mind, but the larger, more insecure bit insisted he would mentally cringe and throw it out the second you left.

Fuck, you thought. This man had you whipped.

You had just reached the elevators, reaching out to tap the call button, when a voice called out to you from your left. “Excuse me,” said a woman sitting behind a large metal desk you hadn’t seen in your haste. She eyed you from behind thick lenses, brow quirked over the top of her monitor. “We do ask that you stay with your group, if you’re here for a tour.”

“Oh! Uhm…” Gripping the cup tight enough that you felt the cardboard bend ever so slightly against your fingers, you padded closer to the desk and put on your best tight-lipped smile. “I’m sorry. I was just bringing a drink to someone who worked here. He’s, uhm… he’s -”

Before you could force your tongue to get out some kind of excuse, some kind of title, the woman was pulling out a small paper sheet from a drawer beside her leg. “Are you a significant other?” she asked, pulling a visitor sticker from the sheet and leaning forward to press it to your shirt. She didn’t seem to want to wait for an answer before sitting back down and clicking away at her screen. “Just a security question before you go; name and floor number?”

Goddamn; suddenly you were so fucking glad some people sucked at their jobs.

Taking a breath, you inhaled and plastered on a grin. “O’Hara,” you replied. “Floor seven.”

“Alright,” she said without looking up again. “You’re free to go up. Please stay in the public hallways.”

The entire elevator ride up to the third floor, you were unable to keep a goofy, surely stupid-looking smile from your face. You liked the idea of being called Miguel’s ‘significant other.’ It made your stomach clench, made your pulse race and your heart thunder and your core throb with a dull ache. For just a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that kind of role, being deserving of such a title.

Coming home from your teaching job not to immediately race to do your makeup in loud, flashy colors, but to stay in the warm, basking glow of a house or a roomy apartment each evening. The keys would always fit just right in the lock, never click or jump. The air would be filled with the sound of a little girl’s quiet giggles from her bedroom, along with the smell of dinner cooking on the stove. Small soccer cleats by the door. Trinkets and photographs and everything else that made the house a home strewn about the rooms. And a tall, sinewy figure that towered over you there to greet you when you walked inside, all warm smiles and wide, calloused hands on your hips and full lips to press against yours with enough gentleness and passion and adoration to keep you on your toes the rest of the night.

A bed big enough for the both of you, with enough blankets and comforters that you wouldn’t be cold even if you couldn’t afford to keep the heat on. Sheets and pillows that knew your white-knuckled grip, that would mold to your hands as you laid out bare for him and allowed him to worship the very ground you walked on with his mouth, his fingers, what lay beneath his slim, narrow hips…

By the time the elevator reached the seventh floor and the doors opened with a gentle chime, your cheeks were hot and your palms were sweaty enough you were sure you’d heated the coffee back up to steaming.

Wandering through the halls of Alechmax’s third floor and feeling incredibly out of place amongst the scientists flipping through reports and chattering on calls, you shuffled from office to office, searching for that familiar name that made your stomach flip. It seemed an awkwardly insane amount of time before you finally spotted his name on a plate beside a door left slightly ajar. You approached and smoothed out your shirt, preparing to present the coffee, when you heard voices inside.

“This isn’t like you, boss,” a woman was saying, her voice slightly warped from speaking over a computer. “You’re always preaching to the others that messing with canon events and triggering changes that aren’t meant to happen is wrong. You know it’s wrong.”

From across the room, a voice you recognized as Miguel’s scoffed. “This one is different. I’m balancing out the changes. I’ve got it under control.”

“Some control you’ve got. You do realize you’ve already altered enough canon events that even this universe itself doesn’t know where it’s going anymore? The bad guys here aren’t supposed to be in jail. Things aren’t supposed to get better. You know why? Because here, there is no Spiderman.”

Spiderman? Your gut clenched slightly as you inched closer to the gap between the door and the frame. If they were talking about Spiderman, then surely - he must have come from here. Some of those conspiracy theorists were right.

“Like I said, Lyla,” Miguel replied, his voice a touch deeper than it had been just a moment ago, “I have it under control.”

The woman named Lyla went on despite the dangerous rumble in Miguel’s throat you’d never heard before. “Here’s another one. That friend of yours? She was supposed to be engaged by now to her boyfriend. Her actual boyfriend. They’re supposed to have the whole angsty proposal thing, go back and forth for another three months, then end things. When he ends her. Asphyxiation by choking for approximately seven minutes, by the way.”

For a long, long while, there was silence. You realized you had been holding your breath, trying desperately to connect these pieces that just refused to fit together. What on earth were they talking about? Universes? Spiderman? Someone getting choked to death by their fiance? It sounded like a bad movie plot.

“Lyla?” came Miguel’s voice.

“Yeah, boss?”

“...Shut down and mute all alerts.”

Again, there came that horrible, palpable silence. Lyla seemed to be in some kind of shock. “Boss, I’m not sure that’s really what you want. You’re in a state of denial. Maybe you should take a break there, come back to headquarters. Jessica’s tried reaching out. Peter and Ben, too. I advise spending time with friends to decrease levels of -”

“Shut down. Now. I’m not going to tell you again.”

“...Yes, boss.”

When you heard his footsteps crossing the room, you took a small step back and clutched the surely-lukewarm coffee to your stomach. You’d never heard him take such a tone before, always used to that warm, content baritone that rumbled comfortably from deep within his throat. This kind of voice you’d just heard was cold and emotionless, without an ounce of feeling in a single one of his words.

You took a breath and exhaled it softly.

Then, as if he heard it from inside his office, the door was opened at an alarming rate to reveal Miguel on the other side. His brow was furrowed and a line had appeared at the corner of his mouth with his frown, obviously expecting one of his coworkers to be intruding at his door. Yet when his gaze met yours, when his frame towered over your smaller one, he realized just who you were, recognized that gleam in your eyes when you locked stares. His gaze softened like an airbag deflating. That line by his mouth disappeared. His tensed figure slowly relaxed, his shoulders coming down from where they’d been set.

For a short moment, you simply stared at one another. You were forced to admit to yourself that tone he’d spoken with had intimidated you.

It reminded you of the one Ferris used when he cornered you and threatened to take off for good.

Finally, Miguel’s lips parted. “Hey,” he breathed out, like he was trying his damn fucking best not to let that tone leak through to you.

You swallowed and slowly allowed yourself to relax. He wouldn’t ever speak to you like that. You didn’t know how you knew. You could just sense it in the warmth that poured from him, from the gentle honey of his dark eyes, from the way he held himself and carried his weight and set down each step like he knew the outcome of each and every movement he made. “Hi.”

Miguel inhaled, as if he were relieved you decided to speak. “Sorry about that,” he said and gestured over his shoulder into his office. “We’ve been testing out some new AI lately. Throwing it curveballs to see if it can keep up.” A small smile graced his face, close-lipped and sweet. Again, you realized - he never smiled with his teeth. “It hasn’t been going well.”

Like a dam breaking and letting a flood of water into a canal, relief rocketed through your systems and worked to ease your stress. Of course he had been talking to a computer. You doubted he could ever speak to a woman like that, much less anyone else. And that also explained all the wild things they had been discussing. Universes? Some poor chick getting murdered by her fiance?

Just the complicated workings of an out of sorts AI.

“I have to admit, I was wondering,” you let yourself laugh. “But, you know… who am I to question Alchemax’s best geneticist?” You watched in fascination as the corner of his mouth quirked upward and one eye squinted with the smile. God, you could watch him do that all damn day. Suddenly remembering the coffee in your hands, you held it up to him with an embarrassed grin. “I meant to bring you this while it was still hot, but I guess you know how hellish it can be getting a bunch of third graders on a bus.”

He took the cup with a rather confused expression.

“The field trip,” you said and folded your hands in front of you, because you knew if you didn’t, you would surely reach out and touch his face. “It’s today. You signed the permission slip about a month ago.”

Miguel blinked a few times, then took a breath and lifted his face. “Right. Right, sorry. Must have slipped my mind. I’ve - heh.” He shook his head and reached up to scratch at the delicate skin of his throat in that way he did when he spoke to you. “More going on than you would know.”

“Believe me,” you said softly, looking down at your shoes. You thought of dishes still in the sink, and band practices in your living room, and threats of leaving you all on your own because, really, that was truly your worst fear. “I know.”

You thought from there you would smile and turn, say something like, ‘Well, just thought I’d stop by,’ and leave him in the doorway of his office so that he wouldn’t see the yearning swimming in your irises. Maybe if you were feeling bold, you’d reach out and touch his wrist for just a moment before pulling away and practically sprinting back to the elevators.

But when you went to turn, he beat you to all of that. He reached out to touch your upper arm, the tips of his calloused fingers brushing along the fabric of your shirt, and he asked if you’d like to come inside, sit down for a minute. And inside his office, he told you what his department was working on, explained it in ways he knew you would understand. He spoke of a molecular collider that, in theory, would open a doorway to parallel universes.

You could have spent hours sitting in that office that smelled like his cologne, listening to him talk.

But life moved on. You were forced to pull yourself away, travel back downstairs and hold Gabriella’s hand like you hadn’t just thought about Miguel folding you over his desk, hushing your desperate cries, and gripping onto your hips with a hold that would bruise. You were forced to drive home and argue with Ferris about dirty laundry and his new keyboard girl constantly texting him. You were forced to land in the dressing room at The Menagerie, carefully dotting rhinestones to your collarbones in the mirror while the other girls buzzed around you.

“And he brought you flowers, too?” asked Shawna from where she was spread out on the couch across the room. She sighed deeply and hung her head over the armrest. “Girl. When are you going to stop playing and give that little girl of his a new mom?”

“You know why I can’t,” you replied as you pressed a small plastic rhinestone to your skin.

Zara met your eyes in the mirror as she grabbed the back of your chair, already dressed in her colorful, skimpy outfit and her mask. “We know why,” she hissed, but not at you. “That Ferris dude has got you held under the water, babe. Serious ball and chain kind of deal here. You really need to do something.”

If you could have found the strength to, you would have rolled your eyes at their words. But you really couldn’t. You were nothing short of exhausted after the field trip today, so much that you wouldn’t be surprised if you were unable to keep your eyes open while you were on stage. God, you loved your teaching gig, but sometimes it was so, so stressful. And so was this job. Teaching, dancing, disciplining, teasing. They all collided into one big, neverending hurricane of fatigue.

“Maybe in another universe,” you found yourself mumbling under your breath, remembering everything Miguel had told you about this morning, “I could have been a flower shop keeper.”

Behind you in the mirror, a few of the girls looked at you with strange expressions.

Before you could go back to applying your rhinestones, one of the newer girls entered the room and pushed her mask up so that her face was visible. She looked to you. “Boss said you’re canceled on the stage,” she said, and you hoped for a moment you were going to go home early, before she added, “Guy paid for a private dance in Room 7.”

“Goddammit.” You groaned and leaned forward to rest your forehead on your arms. You were way too fucking tired to do a private dance right now.

“M’sure he won’t be that bad,” said Shawna as she let herself slip further over the arm of the couch.

Grumbling beneath your breath, you stood, finished off your rhinestones the best you could, and slipped your cold porcelain mask over your features. At least like this, your customer wouldn’t be able to see your exhausted eyes and lost expression.

The beating, thrumming music of the club seemed to vibrate your very soul in your chest as you wound your way past patrons and around the stage, sure to throw half-assed smiles at the people you were forced to wiggle past just a bit too close. The short corridor leading to the private rooms were lit with neons, playing with shadows across your costumed form as you found Room 7 and gently knocked on the door. You blinked a few times to clear the blur from your eyes, then cleared your throat and stepped inside.

“Hi, handsome,” you said as you turned to shut the door - your classic line, no matter who the buyer. “How are you doing tonight?” You turned around to face your customer, then came to a complete stop. Even your heart jumped a beat or two.

The man you’d seen in the shadows that night of the robbery, the man with the little scar on his collarbone, had gotten to his feet from his chair when you entered the room. He wore that same spider mask, still had his dark hair slicked back over his head.

You swallowed thick as you felt his eyes traveling over your form behind the gaps in his mask. “Hello… Spiderman.”

He hesitated for a moment, like he was lost on just what to do. “Hey,” he said in an equally soft voice. It was muted in the same way it was behind his spandex mask.

You placed your hands behind your back as you leaned up against the door - and locked it. “I didn’t think you’d come.”

“...You asked.”

“Did I?” Putting on your best flirty, coy smile, you slowly crossed the room to meet him. “I thought all I said was… if you stopped by, to ask for me.” You reached out to touch the edge of his shirt, past his dress jacket, and skim your knuckle over the tan skin of his exposed collarbone. That scar sat just where you’d seen it before. “But you’re here.”

“...I’m here.”

There was a soft lilt to his voice, one that you had not heard before. Then again, you hadn’t spoken to him much, just in the bank and on the rooftop. But it seemed long enough to know that it wasn’t normal.

“What’s wrong, Spiderman?” you asked gently, taking a step closer. Your knees brushed against his, and when you gave him a gentle push on the shoulder, he sat back in the chair positioned in the center of the room. You gingerly climbed up so that your knees rested on either side of his thighs, so that your center was just inches above his. You didn’t miss the slight hitch in his breath, the way his eyes widened ever just so behind that spider mask. “Have a bad day? Some criminals get the better of you?”

You knew, in a way, that he wasn’t going to do it himself, so you took his wide, warm hands in your own and rested them on your hips. They stayed there for a long, long moment. Then they moved not down, toward your ass and your core, but up. They felt tentatively along your middle, his thumb tickling your stomach just a bit, and stopped just below your breasts before sliding back down again.

“No,” he replied in a low, raspy voice. He paused when you slowly lowered yourself so that you were seated on his lap now, your hips pressed against his. You felt his thigh twitch beneath your ass. “Pretty good day, actually. Just… heard some bad news.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

You hummed, letting your fingers drag along the delicate skin of his throat, just barely shaded with stubble. “What can I do to make you feel better?”

You expected him to hesitate, then make a request. Strip for him. Dance. Whisper in his ear all the things you wanted to do to him.

But there came none of that. Instead of touching you like you were used to, his hands - which were still respectfully resting against your middle - slowly slid across to your back and gently, gingerly, pulled you against him so that you were lying against his front. So that your chests were pressed together. So that you were slumped comfortably in his lap. He held you there against him, one hand on the small of your back and the other on the base of your neck.

“Just this,” he murmured.

You were stunned, to say the least. This was not the first time a customer just wanted to hold, or be held, or anything of the sort. But even then, those touches were desperate and needy, clingy and awkward. But this was everything they were not. This was gentle and considerate, kind and… romantic. Like he didn’t just need to be touched, he needed to be touched by you.

When you inhaled you thought you recognized the scent you breathed in. But with his body so close and his hands holding you so securely, you dismissed it like a runaway thought.

“Here.” Spiderman pulled you back for just a second, raising his fingers up to pull at the ribbon keeping your mask on your face, mindful not to catch any hair. Your breath hitched when he set the monarch mask aside, your face now bare as you stared down at him. This was against the rules. You were not supposed to do this. Customers were not supposed to see your face, know you like this.

But this?

This was far beyond any rules.

Your lips parted and your heart thundering in your chest so loud you were sure he could hear it, you found your own fingers slowly reaching up to graze at his porcelain mask. Your fingertips grazed the edge, began to hitch it up…

He caught your wrist in a hold that was so gentle, yet so commanding, that you immediately let your hand drop. But there was no venomous feeling there, no edge. Just a warning. A soft, quiet warning.

Exhaling, you wrapped your arms around his neck and settled yourself against his wide, powerful frame. Your face nestled itself into the crook of his neck, your chin resting atop his shoulder, as his hands came back to hold your form against his. One of his thumbs glided across your shoulder blade, sending goosebumps rising across your skin.

Gripping onto his jacket collar, you opened your eyes to look at yourself in the mirror that faced the back of the chair. Here you couldn’t see the mask over Spiderman’s face, just his slicked-back hair and his broad shoulders keeping you caged against him. His head tilted toward yours, your temples resting together.

For a moment, in your exhaustion and fatigue, you thought he resembled someone else you knew. But you let the thought pass, instead shutting your eyes and basking in his soft, gentle, perfect touch.

tags: @mooomeadows @twentysomethingwereyote @screamforyani @fangirlreice7 @axdjelx @ornamentalnecromancy @faust-pda @ilikethemoon28 @mrm-pachypoda @wadafrick @natthernandez @bakgoktski @soupsexsunsalutationsss @roxannarichie @lovagirlxxx @soggyeyeballsss @yoyoyoyoyo55555 @sophipet @quaintii @lavnderluv @cookiezxx @euphorica @its-a-polyglot @nicalysm @maxi-ride @exzidss @crappwr0m @femme-is-dead @bitch-onthemoon @hier—soir @takayomi @kirke-is-my-name @d1lf-loverrr @might-be-a-rat @brooks-lin @maki-z @bookfreakk @act1839 @dollscircus @sleepingaway @anxietybutterfly @bioticboot @mxkn @freeingrebels @digitalcreature404 @aimee777 @hunnaye @blahbahed @cyanide-mustard @impettywhenyouare @mental-illness-is-my-friend @bobfood

#miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara smut #atsv miguel o’hara #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o’hara across the spiderverse #miguel o’hara atsv #across the spiderverse #atsv miguel #spiderman atsv #atsv x reader #atsv #spiderman 2099

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monakisu · 4 months

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I want you to know that I came across a random post of your Death Note art, went "Awww, oh my gosh, with the way this person draws Light I think Akechi would look fantastic in the same style!", clicked onto your profile, and then saw your newest artwork was Akechi. I'm still kind of cackling over it and thought maybe you'd find it funny too. Your art is SO cute, I'm very happy I found it <333

HAHA THAT’S AMAZING (<< was an akechi artist wayyyy before i fell head over heels for light)

but rlly… theyre so similar:

- brunet

- asshole

- pretty boy

- mass murderer

- black-haired homoerotic rival

at the end of the day, the key difference is one is a top and the other is a bottom.

ok but seriously, they’re vastly different characters on a fundamental level:

- light was handed everything him on a silver platter: family, friends, looks, intellect, a comfortable life… as a bastard child of a sex worker and now an orphan, goro had to fight his way to his current position and will always harbor a terrible sense of inferiority (light is completely confident in his absolute superiority, Always (that’s why the challenge of L sent him off the deep end of obsession lol))

- light genuinely sees himself as a hero, while goro would like to feel the same but is nonetheless depressingly aware of his villain’s journey (his undesirable position as the detective vs the underdog phantom thieves, his string of assassinations, his ultimate dirty bloody goal, etc.).

- light’s motive is about the world’s salvation, cleansing, the birth of his ideal reality (very messianic of him with the slightest loving tinge of mary cradling her lamb hahaha) while goro is laser-focused on ruining this one asshole’s life in particular, vengeance and revenge at once! one’s focused on rebirth, and the other gunning straight for death! they both use murder to get what they want but light probably floats around thinking himself so clean and divine as mother of the world (ignorance is bliss) while goro is constantly desperately trying to cover up his suspiciously red hands with his gloves hehehe… they’re both constantly striving for perfection, just with varying levels of self-awareness!!

- goro is a canonical loner; light has a horde of friends; this is probably due to a difference in public persona! goro is an untouchable idea of what he thinks a human should be and is completely out of the loop when it comes to normal social interactions (believes opening with hegel will instantly endear himself to the average person (luckily he inflicted that upon akira who is decidedly not average in the slightest)), light is implied to be more down-to-earth and even slightly goofy (he’s gaming decorum like an advanced speedrunner)! it’s probably good how distant goro is, because getting any closer to him will allow you to see how off-putting and uncanny he is, sorta like an AI-generated image—seams in the wrong places and far too much teeth LOL. meanwhile light has this whole shebang so thoroughly figured out that he’s BORED with it all! he’d like to move on to the next game (with L), thank you!! light definitely still exudes uncanny creepiness (it’s his natural state of being) especially when he zones out or starts hysterically cackling out of nowhere at his own thoughts, but he’s a hundred times better at masking compared to goro due to a better upbringing. goro is starved for the adoring friends he sees akira easily picking up one after another; light couldn’t give less of a shit because he’s always had those trivial luxuries! he’d much rather prefer an adoring WORLD!!

- then there’s the difference in how they die… one started out surrounded with company but ultimately died alone, while it’s the opposite for the other (if you count the de-realization of maruki’s reality as goro’s “death” (which i don’t)).

- in conclusion, light and goro are like funhouse mirror reflections of each other!!! one is a pampered lapdog getting a taste of rabies and letting loose, while the other is a starving wolf trying to domesticate itself for treats and headpats!! and i <3 them both!!!!!

anyways i may be wrong about light because im going purely off of fics, tumblr shitposts, and my own imagination :] feel free to school me in a way that won’t destroy my delusions!

#美迪 archive #💡princess posting⋆˚✿˖°#mailbox 💌#light yagami #death note #goro akechi #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #art #artists on tumblr #digital art #doodle #rkgk #画画 #涂鸦

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intersexbookclub · 7 months

Text

Discussion summary: Left Hand of Darkness

Published in 1969, The Left Hand of Darkness is a classic in science fiction that explores issues of sex/gender in an alien-yet-human society where the aliens are just like us except in how they reproduce. These aliens, the Gethenians, can reproduce as either male or female. They spend most of their lives sexually undifferentiated. Once a month, they go into heat (“kemmer”) and their sexual organs activate as either male or female (it’s essentially random).

Here's a summary of the discussions we had on 2023-08-25 and 2023-09-01 about the book:

HIGH LEVEL REACTONS

Michelle (@scifimagpie): even though it was written by a cis straight perisex woman there is a queerness to the writing that feels true and that she nailed. There is a queerness to the soul of this book that still holds up, that's true and good, and I cannot but love and respect that.

Elizabeth (@ipso-faculty): this book is such a commentary on 1960s misogyny. Genly is a raging misogynist. It takes a whole prison break and crossing the arctic for Genly to realize a woman or androgyne can be competent 👀

Dimitri: [Having read just the first half of the book] I wonder if it keeps happening, if Genly keeps going "woaaaah" [to the Gethenians’ androgyny] or if he ever acclimates. It's been half the novel my guy

vic: yeah a book where a guy is destroyed by seeing a breast makes me want queer theory

vic: [it also] makes me feel good to see how much has changed [since the 1960s]

THE INTERSEX STUFF

A thing we appreciated about the book was how being intersex is contextual. The main character of the book, Genly Ai, is a human from a planet like Earth, who visits Gethen to open trade and diplomatic relations.

On his home planet, and to Earth sensibilities, Genly is perisex - he is able to reproduce at any time of the month and is consistently male.

But on Gethen, Genly becomes intersex. On Gethen, the norm is that you only manifest (and can reproduce as) a given sex during the monthly kemmer (heat/oestrus) period.

The Gethenians understand Genly as living in “permanent kemmer”, which is described as a common (intersex) condition, and these people are hyper-sexualized and referred to as Perverts.

At this point it’s worth noting that depiction is not the same as endorsement. Michelle pointed out the book is very empathetic to those in permanent kemmer. LeGuin does not appear to be endorsing the social stigma faced by these people, merely depicting it, and putting a mirror to how our own society treats intersex people.

Throughout the book, Genly is treated as an oddity by the Gethenians. He is hyper sexualized. He undergoes a genital inspection to prove he is who he says he is.

When Genly is sent to a prison camp and forcibly given HRT, he does not respond “normally” to the hormones, the effects are way worse for him, and the prison camp staff don’t care, and keep administering them even if it’ll kill him.

Two of us have had the experience of having hyperandrogenism and being forced onto birth control as teenager, and relating to the sluggishness of the drugs that Genly experienced, as well as the sense that gender/sex conformity was more important to authority figures (parents, doctors) than actual health and well-being.

Another scene we discussed the one where Genly is in a prison van en route to the gulag, and a Gethenian enters kemmer and wants to mate with him and he declines. He is given multiple opportunities over the course of the book to try having sex with a Gethenian, and declines every time, and we wondered if he avoided it out of trauma of being hyper-sexualized & hyper-medicalized & having had his genitals inspected.

We discussed the way he described his genital inspection through a trauma lens, and how it interacts with toxic masculinity - in vic’s terms, Genly being "I am a manly man and I have don't trauma"

Those of us who read the short story, Coming of Age in Karhide, noted that once the world was narrated from a Gethenian POV, the people in permanent kemmer were treated far more neutrally, which gave us the impression that Genly as an unreliable narrator was injecting some intersexism along with his misogyny

WHY IT MATTERS TO READ THIS BOOK THROUGH AN INTERSEX LENS

Elizabeth: I’ve encountered critiques of this book from perisex trans folks because to them the book is committing biological essentialism, and dismissing the book as a result. I think they’re missing that this book is as much about (inter)sex as it is about gender. I think they’re too quick to dismiss the book as being outdated or having backwards ideas because they’re not appreciating the intersex themes.

Elizabeth: The intersex themes aren’t exactly subtle, so it kind of stings that I haven’t seen any intersex analyses of this book, but there are dozens (hundreds?) of perisex trans analyses that all miss the huge intersex elephants in the room.

Also Elizabeth: I’ve seen this book show up in lists of intersex books/characters made by perisex people, and I’ve seen Estraven listed as intersex character, and it gets me upset because Estraven isn’t intersex! Estraven is perisex in the society in which he lives. Genly is the intersex character in this story and people who misunderstand intersex as being able to reproduce as male & female (or having quirky genitals smh) are completely missing that being intersex is socially constructed and based on what is considered typical for a given species.

WHAT THE BOOK DOESN’T HANDLE WELL

The body descriptions. As Dmitri put it: “ Like "his butt jiggled and it reminded me of women" ew. It was intentional but I had to put the book down. It reminded me of transvestigators and how they take pictures of people in public.” 🤮

Not pushing Genly to reflect on how weird he is about other people’s bodies. We all had issues with how Genly is constantly scrutinizing the bodies of other humans to assess their gender(s) and it’s pretty gross.

vic asked: “how much of this is her reproducing violence without her knowing it? A thing I didn't like was how he always judging and analyzing people's bodies and realizing others treat him that way. And I wish there was more of his discomfort about this, that it made him feel icky.”

Dimitri added: “I really wanted him to have a moment of this too, for him to realize how much it sucks to be treated this way. As a trans person it's so uncomfortable. What are you doing going around doing this to people?”

Using male pronouns as default/ungendered pronouns. Élaina asked why Genly thinks a male pronoun is more appropriate for a transcendent God and pointed out there’s a lot to unpack there.

OTHER POSITIVES ABOUT THE BOOK

Genly’s journey towards respecting women, that he still had a ways to go by the end of the book. vic pointed out how “LeGuin was straight, and she loves men, and is kinda giving them the side-eye [in this book]. Her writing about how Genly is childish makes me really happy. It’s kind of hilarious to watch him bang his head against the wall because he’s so rigid.”

To which Dmitri added: “I agree with the bit on forgiving men for stuff. I don't know how she [LeGuin] does it but she really lays it all out. She gives you a platter of how men are bad at things, how they make mistakes that are pretty specific to them. She has prepared a buffet of it.”

Autistic Estraven! As Michelle put it: “autistic queer feels about Estraven speaking literally and plainly and Genly not getting it”

The truck chapter. Hits like a pile of bricks. We talked about it as a metaphor for the current pandemic.

The Genly x Estraven slowburn queerplatonic relationship

The conlang! Less is more in how it gets used

MIXED REACTIONS

The Foretelling. For some it felt unnecessary and a bit fetishy. For others it was fun paranormal times.

Pacing. Some liked how the book really forces you to really contemplate as you go. Others struggled with a pace that feels very slow to 2023 readers.

WORKS WE COMPARED THE BOOK TO

Star Trek (the original series) - we wondered if LHOD and Genly Ai were progressive by 1960s standards, and TOS came up as a comparison point. We were all of the impression that TOS was progressive for its time but all of us find it pretty misogynist by our standards. The interest in extra-sensory perception (ESP) is something that was a staple of TOS that feels very strange to contemporary viewers and also cropped up in LHOD

Ancillary Justice - for being a book where characters’ genders are all ambiguous but the POV character is actually normal about how they describe other characters’ bodies.

The Deep - for being another book in a situation where being able to reproduce as male and female is the norm. The Deep was written by an actually intersex author, and doesn’t have the cisperisex gaze of scrutinizing every body for sex. But oddly LHOD actually winds up feeling more like a book about intersex people, because it features a character who is the odd one out in a gonosynic society. In contrast, nobody is intersex in the Deep - everybody matches the norms for their species, which makes the intersex themes in the work much more subtle.

Overall, as vic put it, “there's something to be said about an honest depiction that's not great, especially when there's no alternatives”. For a long time there weren’t many other games in town when it came to this sort of book, and even though some things now feel dated, it’s still a valuable read. We’d love to see more intersex reviews & analyses of the book!

#intersex book club #book summaries #book reviews #left hand of darkness #the left hand of darkness #ursula k. le guin #intersex books #intersex literature #queer books #queer literature #queer fiction #queer scifi #intersex

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pastanest · 9 months

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c.ai links

for those of you who don’t know, there’s a funky app/website called c.ai (character ai) where you can interact with fan-programmed bots, which is pretty cool!! given how much I adore the characters I’ve written for, I figured it could be fun to make bots for them, using segments of my writing to format the bots themselves!

so, that said, here’s a list of the bots I’ve made so far with their corresponding links - as the app is still in beta I’m not sure whether searching for ‘pastanest’ will work, but that’s my username on c.ai as well as here :)

> I’ll add all new bots to this list and reblog it each time as an update

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⌖

Spencer Reid

shrimp reid

no established friendship - you’re newest member on the team and you’re being introduced to everyone; it’s up to you what cases you work on!

jesus reid

established friendship - Spencer is frustrated by having to use his cane, disliking the impact on his mobility and independence. luckily, you’re there to brighten his spirits!

short-hair reid

no established friendship - joining the bau Spencer has a more cynical view on love after losing Maeve, so tries to push away his feelings for you from the moment you meet!

boyband reid

established friendship - mutual pining, no specific location/story, it’s completely up to you!

prison reid

established friendship - mutual pining, feelings pretty obvious, but you decide whether Spencer is due to leave prison soon or if you want to visit him a few times first!

post-prison reid

established friendship - you joined the team during/after Spencer was in prison (potential for age-gap if preferred, but not compulsory) and you have a very obvious crush on Spencer!

professor reid

established professor/student relationship - you purposefully stay behind after a university lecture (potential for age-gap if preferred, but not compulsory) to talk with your favourite professor!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･⌖

Aaron Hotchner

joining the team

no established friendship - you’re the newest member of the team and Hotch quickly develops a soft spot for you!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･➷

Daryl Dixon

farm era

established friendship - based on just after Andrea shot Daryl, you arrive at his tent to check on him, but you decide where the story goes from there!

alexandria era

established friendship - you approach Daryl while he’s working on his bike, but you decide if you want to involve any specific canon events from the show/comics based on where you take the story!

⋆.ೃ࿔*:･𓆩♛𓆪

Jon Snow

winterfell

established friendship - before Jon goes to the wall, his love for you is the only thing that can convince him against joining the Night’s Watch!

the wall

no established friendship - the only girl on the wall, you are under the protection of Lord Commander Mormont and you tend to do tasks that keep you out of the way of the men, but sometimes you cant help crossing paths!

Brienne Of Tarth

forest dwellers

established meeting - you are part of Brienne and Podrick’s party as they search for the Stark girls, and Brienne already has quite the soft spot for you!

#spencer reid #daryl dixon #spencer reid x reader #daryl dixon x reader #c.ai #character ai #jon snow #jon snow x reader #brienne of tarth #brienne of tarth x reader

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the-boy-meets-evil · 8 months

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can't run away | vernon

summary: running is the only life you've ever known. running away from your home planet, running away from anyone that gets too close, running away from officials, running from other smugglers. it's not easy but it's better than the pain that comes with staying in place and definitely better than getting caught. everyone has heard of you but nobody actually knows you. the last thing you want is to take on a passenger, especially when that passenger is a robot from one of the most popular groups in the universe. why would you let him stay when nobody else ever has? pairing: ai!vernon x smuggler!afab!reader word count: 15.6k genre: sci-fi au, angst, fluff (?) warnings/content: vernon is an automaton, reader is a smuggler (across the galaxy), references to injury (when vernon escapes, to reader as well), questionable methods of finishing a job (reader), suggestions/implications of sex/hook-ups (reader x unnamed characters), questionable legality on the jobs, exploring emotions for automatons, fights, open/ambiguous ending rating: mature (this is SFW but i prefer only people 18+ interacting with my blog) a/n: thank you so much to @idyllic-ghost for this incredible collab and this banner. i don't think i would've written a sci-fi fic otherwise and it's been so much fun. check out all the other amazing fics here! also thank you to the loml @hot-soop for *volunteering* to read through this fic. you're an angel. finally, thank you to @strawberryya for letting me use your brain and your planet.

“100 years ago it was thought that the Earth, as we know it, would disintegrate. That the sun would implode and leave everything in darkness. Miraculously, it didn’t. Due to some external force, human scientists still haven’t agreed upon what it exactly was, none of the planets in our former solar system were ever destroyed. The Earth, along with the other planets, were pushed away from each other, and ended up in different parts of the universe. Earth just happened to come to a solar system with alien life. At first, we were cautious, and people were prepared to fight. However, the aliens were welcoming of our planet. Those of us who didn’t die from ‘The Great Journey’ or from trying to fight the aliens, were welcomed into the new solar system. Soon enough, we had integrated completely, and we received materials and assistance from our sister-planets in exchange for human labor. What humans knew of technology was very limited, but with the resources of the aliens we created artificial life forms. We named these robots Automaton, and they served as workers when humans couldn’t. Eventually, there was no need for human labor at all. To pay back for the help the aliens gave us, we used Automatons. With the extensive development of these robots, we eventually managed to create artificial sentient life. These Automatons were human-like in looks and had human consciousness, but they could not bleed and were stronger than we ever could be. At the present time, there are even different levels of Automatons. Level 3 robots are the workers, level 2 robots are the caretakers, and level 1 robots are the celebrities. The Automaton music group 53V3NT33N (SEVENTEEN) is made up of 13 members, all very talented, and all representing two human states of mind.”

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

“Chirron,” you call and wait for his hum to let you know he’s listening, “we have to go. Like 10 minutes ago.”

“Why don’t you try something helpful?” he shoots back at you.

“The last time I got near the controls, you slapped my hands and shrieked,” you answer.

“I did not, it was not a shriek,” he hisses. He’s not really offended, it’s just how the two of you are. You’ve run hundreds of jobs together at this point and there’s nobody else you’d trust. And certainly nobody that’s better at getting your ship in the air and away from trouble. “And it was for a good reason. You’re a menace to society and to the controls, specifically.”

“Every button looks the same,” you huff.

“Will you just shut it for 2 seconds so I get us off this awful planet?” Chirron asks.

“Hey, this is my home planet!” you protest. You’re not sure why you’re distracting him like this when you want to leave just as badly as he does. Need to for the sake of your job.

“I swear to…” he says and stops to pinch the bridge of his nose. “Just a minute, I’m begging you.”

There’s a retort about begging on the tip of your tongue, something you know will get under Chirron’s skin. Something you know better to say and are going to say anyway. Really, what’s the worst he could do? Except just as you’re about to say it, someone comes rushing in through the open door of your ship.

Chirron seems to register the newcomer, but says nothing. In fact, he goes back to working on one of the control panels that’s currently preventing you from leaving the planet. That leaves you to deal with this new person. Or…no, could he be an automaton? There’s something familiar about him that you can’t quite place. There’s also something that doesn’t scream human about him. Maybe the blue hair or the way he moves through expressions. He looks relieved now even though you’re a complete stranger.

“Please, help me,” he rushes out, already moving from relief into something else. He reaches out to take your hands in his and you barely have time to register it. “I’m begging you, I’ll do anything.”

Your first instinct is to flatly tell him that you won’t help him, that you can’t. After all, you’re not exactly the type anyone looks to when they need help. A fact Chirron is always quick to point out. But, you also see that this could present an interesting opportunity for someone such as you. And maybe now you can make some begging jokes without getting your head bitten off.

“And just what are you willing to do?” you ask, arch an eyebrow as you watch the expressions cross his face.

“Oh, well I can…you know, I could…” he sputters along and you laugh.

Just as you’re about to take pity on him, you see a rush of guards coming through the spaceport. It’s the last thing you want to see. Your papers are solid and you’ve already made the very real excuse of needing to fix one of your systems before leaving the planet. Then again, you’ve had enough close calls for a lifetime and you’re not really looking to add another one to that list.

As you watch, the guards talk to some other people milling about in the spaceport. The man who rudely burst onto your ship seems to catch that you’re watching something and immediately ducks down. If you weren’t a little nervous about the guards coming aboard, it would be comical. He’s literally not even hiding behind anything.

“They lookin’ for you?” you ask quietly and clock the answer in his eyes before he even opens his mouth.

“I think so,” he says.

You sigh and ignore Chirron looking back at you. “Back that way, there’s a door in the wall on your left. Nobody ever knows it’s a door, but run your hand on the wall, you’ll feel it.”

“What?” he asks.

“Go,” you hiss and walk towards the open door.

It’s perfecting timing, too, because two of the guards are approaching. One of them, thankfully, is one you’ve dealt with before. And it’s mostly been positive. At least you know he can’t seem to stay away when you breeze in and out of this part of the planet. With any luck, he’s in a good mood.

“Thought that was your ship,” he says with a smirk, ignoring the look from the other guard.

“Guilty,” you smile. “Always nice to see you, Kyun.”

“You two know each other?” the other guard asks skeptically.

“Sure, she runs cargo,” Changkyun says. You can’t fully fight the smile because you know it means you’re safe after all. The two of you have spent enough time in his bed, post hook-up, for him to know that’s not the whole story.

“And I would be gone already because we’re behind schedule, but we had a little mechanical trouble,” you say, laying on the act a little thick.

“Need a hand?” Changkyun offers.

“We’re supposed to be asking about someone,” the other guard reminds him.

“It’s fine, we’ve got it handled anyway,” you say and send Changkyun a flirty smile before turning to his partner. “Ask away.”

“Have you seen an automaton running through here? Blue hair, about this tall, wearing a plain white shirt,” he asks and you pretend to think for a second.

“There’s been a lot of people coming through,” you offer apologetically. “I think I did see someone with bright hair rushing off in that direction. Could’ve been blue.”

“You’re sure about the hair color?” the other guard asks.

“Not really, it happened fast. But it could’ve been blue,” you shrug and then look like you’ve realized something. “Wait, there isn’t a reward is there?”

“Last I heard, you were doing fine,” Changkyun says and you smile as his partner walks off to share your info with a group of guards.

“Can’t blame a girl for trying,” you say with a wink.

“Make sure you come by next time you’re here,” Changkyun says with that look you’ve seen before.

“I will, promise,” you say.

“Have a safe flight!” he calls. He’s already heading off to join his partner.

When he looks back, you wave. For good measure, you look over your shoulder like Chirron said something and nod. You’re closing the hatch with a last wave to Changkyun. Once you’ve also made sure the shields to protect anyone from seeing in are activated, you head back to find your new friend.

“Seems like people are looking for you,” you say when you open the door.

You don’t bother waiting to see if he’s going to follow you when you walk back towards Chirron at the front of the ship. The blue haired man, who still hasn’t introduced himself, follows you instantly and then ducks when he sees the windshield in front of him.

“They can’t see you,” Chirron says in a bored voice. Mostly likely unimpressed by a decision you don’t actually remember making.

“You almost done?” you ask again.

“Yes, actually, that little disruption got you to leave me alone long enough to fix it,” he says with a glare at you. “Now be quiet again.”

“So rude,” you say quietly without any bite.

“Control, Vega Three requesting clearance for take off,” Chirron states over the communication system.

“Clearance granted,” comes an immediate response.

“Finally,” you say and take your seat next to Chirron. You twist over your shoulder to look at your unexpected guest. “I’d buckle in if I were you, sweetheart.”

“Are you…are we taking off?” he asks, seemingly unable to sit still.

“Unless you had a different idea when you tried to sneak onto a ship,” you respond.

“But you don’t…” he begins.

“You’ve got your reasons for wanting to get off this planet, and we’ve got ours, best to discuss those once we’re actually off the planet. So, strap in,” you instruct.

The stranger in question doesn’t need to be told a third time, thankfully. He slides into the seat behind Chirron and buckles himself in. With a sideways glance at you to confirm he’s clear, Chirron uses the recently repaired controls to get you going and safely off this planet. Even though it’s your home planet, and you definitely can linger, this job is a little sensitive. You really can’t afford to be late on the delivery, though your reputation with this buyer is spotless. It only stays spotless as long as you finish your jobs as quickly and discreetly as possible.

If you expect the stranger to say something as Chirron navigates you out of the spaceport and into the air, you’re left wanting. When you look back, you find him relaxed back into the chair. It’s like he’s completely at ease. Or maybe just feeling a lot of relief that you let him stay on board. Or even relief that you lied to the guards. Something you do often, though he doesn’t know that. His eyes close as Chirron types in the course to autopilot until you get close to your destination.

While the stranger rests, something kind of surprising to you given that he doesn’t know you at all, you briefly wonder if it’s sleep or just a sort of recharging. Chirron claims your attention and you quietly discuss your plans for once you get to your destination. Salax is known for…discretion. People don’t tend to ask that many questions there because of the types of humans and aliens alike that follow their desires there. But, since it’s a place for your deepest desires, people are also wary of suspicious behavior. You’ve spent plenty of time there, both for your own pleasure or, like now, for a job.

The downside to this planet, though? It’s the type of place no robot would ever be seen. Certainly not a Level 1. They’re far too pure for that. And judging by the number of guards employed, and the fact that you were on Earth, you’re willing to bet your new passenger is a Level 1. So that’s going to add its own unique set of challenges. Something that has you buzzing with adrenaline, but has Chirron looking sterner than usual.

“We need to know who he is,” Chirron repeats quietly.

“And we will,” you answer easily.

“If he’s a Level 1…” Chirron starts before trailing off.

“What? You’ll turn me over for the reward you asked about?” the stranger asks. You’re a little startled because you didn’t realize he had woken up. Or stopped resting, whatever.

Chirron scoffs as he takes in your amusement. “No.”

“It’s not a ridiculous question,” he insists.

“It is if you know her,” Chirron says and nods in your direction.

“Why? You’re wondering if I’m a Level 1 so you know how high the reward is,” he insists and you finally take pity on him.

“No, I have no intention to collect some reward for you, if one even exists,” you confirm.

“But why?” he asks. He’s fidgeting in his seat like he can’t sit still. It’s interesting to see when he was resting so peacefully without moving.

“Because,” Chirron interjects, clearly intent to take away any fun, “she prefers not to deal in things as meaningless as currency or credits.”

“How do you live?” he asks, genuine curiosity coloring his face.

“I’ve got enough credits to keep us going for years,” you answer vaguely.

“What else is there to work for?” the stranger wonders.

You turn your seat fully so it’s facing him and lean forward, dropping your voice a little. “So many things, sweetheart. Favors, information, gossip…secrets.”

His eyes go wide, like it’s something he’s never considered before. And he probably hasn’t. If he’s a Level 1, and you’d bet your ship that he is at this point, then this is so wildly out of normality for him. The Level 1s are pristine, like the celebrities of the galaxy living in luxury with someone to help keep them functioning at the highest levels. They’ll never see the types of jobs that Level 3s see, those jobs that nobody else wants to do. They’ll never work the way that Level 2s do, or have to work for humans in that way. Which isn’t to say their lives are perfect. It’s just not the kind of life where they see the dirty types of jobs that you and Chirron are used to.

“Why don’t you give me a name, sweetheart? Unless you prefer the pet name, which is fine by me,” you say.

He hesitates, before saying, “Vernon.”

You and Chirron look at each other, like you’re both wondering why this automaton seems familiar and why everyone is looking for him.

“Well, V3RN0N actually, from 53V3NT33N,” Vernon adds.

And that makes everything fall into place. Not that you pay much attention to groups of performers like that, it’s kind of hard when you’re constantly on the move, but everyone in the galaxy knows them. Everyone in the galaxy also knows that the members just…disappeared. There isn’t much information, at least not from reputable sources, about what happened. Thankfully for you, you don’t really deal in reputable sources. So you’ve heard your fair share about the escapes, each tale sounding a little wilder than the last. You at least know someone is desperate to find all 13 of the automatons, given how popular the group is. Or maybe it’s because they’ve resorted to asking in places they’d normally never be caught to find information.

When you assure Vernon that your previous statement still stands, that you’re far more interested in your form of currency than any reward you’d get from turning him in, he relaxes a bit again. He’s worried, still, that he admitted to complete strangers who he really is, but you give him your real names. You tell him what you actually do, despite Chirron’s protests. That’s when he starts telling you all about the escape. The way that he got away, the way he doesn’t know what happened to his other members, the way he hopes they’re all okay too.

It’s a little depressing and a lot too close to home for you to hear what life was actually like for Vernon and the other Automatons in his group. Not that you’ve ever been famous or had people across the galaxy expecting you to perform, but you know a thing or two about someone else making your decisions. Chirron knows it too, knows your story intimately, so he probably also sees where this is going before you do.

It’s difficult, you think, to listen to Vernon talk about his experiences and why he chose to run. Humans and aliens had worked together to create these new beings. Perfected them until they were indistinguishable from humans and even gave them emotions. Yet beings like Vernon and his group are expected to just perform. To essentially serve at the wishes of the public for entertainment value. Have to uphold the highest standards and can’t ever do something that would look bad. Have to remain pure, whatever that means.

From there, you come up with a plan. One that will at least give you time to come up with some next steps on Salax. Vernon is restless again when you share your destination. Of course he’s never been there, but he knows all about it. It’s hard to tell if he’s just nervous that he’ll look out of place or if he’s curious about what actually happens there. In either case, you need to make sure he’s prepared for the stop. There isn’t much choice anyway, you’re on a schedule and he’s just an unexpected passenger. Before he can continue protesting, you send him to the back of the ship to look through the clothes and accessories. Anything to hide who he is.

“He’s not you, you know,” Chirron offers.

“I know that,” you answer.

“Do you?” From anyone else, the question might sound accusatory. From Chirron, it only sounds concerned.

You sigh. “I do, but what they put him through is awful.”

“He’s an Automaton,” Chirron reminds you.

“I’m well aware,” you say with a slight snap to your words. “You heard him, though. And you’ve seen the Automatons we’ve come across. It’s different.”

“Does he know what you’re going to tell them when we get to Salax?” Chirron asks, switching tactics.

“Do you?” you ask back.

“An overly sheltered Automaton on Salax?” Chirron raises an eyebrow at you. “You’re going to bring him along as your ‘date’ who’s just testing the waters to see if it’s his thing.”

“I am not that predictable,” you retort. But you don’t disagree because you can’t.

“What else would you say?” Chirron asks.

“I don’t know, I just hope it works,” you say.

“Luckily for him, you’re a frequent visitor,” Chirron says with a shrug.

You decide to let that comment lie. Partly because you don’t want to argue with Chirron too loudly and draw Vernon’s attention. Partly because he’s not entirely wrong. You do like to spend time on Salax, looking for things that you can’t find when you’re constantly on the move. Looking for people that don’t expect you to be there when they need you. That’s something you can’t do. Chirron would ask ‘can’t or won’t’, but the difference hardly matters.

After another minute you go and check on Vernon because you really do need to get going. For a number of reasons. He’s dressed and looking like he’ll at least moderately fit in at the club you’re taking him to. It’s clear he still wants to stay on the ship, or to go with Chirron, but you remind him that won’t work. Chirron is leaving the ship to get supplies for after your errands and to make sure you’re ready to leave the planet. Even without Vernon, you don’t want to linger. Not this time. Going with Chirron to run errands would be even more suspicious. He so rarely has anyone around when he’s anywhere, let alone Salax. He keeps to himself so the appearance of a beautiful stranger would be out of character. No, it’s much easier to have Vernon with you. You’re much more likely to have someone around on this planet. And you’re certainly had enough beautiful strangers with you on Salax to blend in. You ignore the way Vernon reacts each time you call him beautiful because, really, it’s just a fact.

Vernon tags along a half step behind you when you leave the ship. You’re considering telling him to walk beside you when you think you might as well sell it. If you’re going to be telling people that he’s your pet, just someone you picked up for the time being, then it makes sense that he wouldn’t walk quite beside you.

This club is so familiar to you. Once you’re inside, you make your way to one of the back rooms, the same room you always meet your client in every time she hires you. Nobody asks questions as it is, but certainly not of her when she books private rooms. You know she’ll be seeing someone else before or after you. Or both, knowing her.

Thankfully, Vernon keeps his head down like you told him to while you’re winding your way through. You offer the occasional smile or nod as you see people that you know, people you’ve worked with professionally and people you know personally. Some look at your companion, but nobody says anything. Both you and Chirron were right. Though this puts Vernon in contact with more people, it’s far less conspicuous. Besides, with his hat and clothing, nobody would guess he was a Level 1.

Circe is waiting in her back room, sprawled out on her lounger when you enter, surprisingly alone. Then again, she probably got word when you landed and then again when you entered the club. As usual, she looks completely stunning in her figure hugging outfit. It’s enough to send anyone’s mind into overdrive.

“My, my, darling,” she says as she takes in both you and your companion. “I would scold you for keeping me waiting, but you’ve brought company.”

“You know I’d never dream of keeping you waiting,” you say with a smile at her. “We were…held up a bit. Had some ship trouble.”

“And picked up a new toy,” she comments. “Please, sit.”

“Ah yes, well he’s…curious about expanding his horizons,” you say with a glance at him. The two of you sit in front of her.

“Maybe we can share,” Circe offers and you chuckle.

“Circe, love, he’s nowhere near ready for that,” you answer.

“Always keeping your prettiest toys from me,” Circe pouts.

“Now you know that’s not true,” you chastise. “The last time I was here for fun rather than work…”

“Was very fun, that’s true,” Circe concedes. “Should I assume you’re not staying around this time, then?”

“I’m afraid not,” you say and inject as much sincerity as you can.

“Would that happen to be because he’s one of those escaped Automatons?” Circe plays it off like idle curiosity and you only smile fondly.

“If he were, what kind of fool would I be to bring him here?” you wonder.

“The kind that does trust me despite your insistence that you trust nobody other than yourself and Chirron,” she answers without missing a beat.

“Well,” you shrug.

“I thought…” Vernon says quietly to you.

“Relax, whoever you are is no concern of mine. She knows I won’t blow your secret because I know that there’s nobody better in the galaxy than her at what she does,” Circe says softly.

“You flatter me,” you say. This time the sincerity comes in earnest.

Circe waves it off like it’s nothing. You also know she means what she said. “I assume you have what I sent you off for?”

“Of course,” you respond and reach into your bag.

“This is why I protect her,” Circe says, leaning forward like she’s sharing a secret with Vernon. “I’ve never met anyone that can do a sensitive job for me like she can.”

“And have you met a lot of people?” Vernon asks.

Circe’s eyes sparkle. “You may be one of the only ones who can understand when I say thousands, probably.”

You watch the interaction for a moment because it’s so mundane, so simple. Shaking your head to clear the scene, you hand over a small device. Circe takes it and examines it for a second, looking over the markings on the side. Her smile is almost instant.

“This looks full,” she comments.

“It is,” you answer.

“How sensitive is the material?” Circe asks.

You hesitate and look over at Vernon. “I wouldn’t watch it with just anyone. There’s…well I don’t have to tell you that people get more honest when they’re in compromising situations.”

This seems to amuse Circe as she watches you form your words. It’s different from how you usually are and it’s entertaining. “Are you in it?”

“No,” you answer with a little laugh. “Someone owed me a very big favor. Well owes me several favors, actually. He’s not off the hook yet.”

“I’ve known you for years and I still don’t think I understand the extent of your network,” Circe observes.

“Probably not,” you acknowledge.

“And what about you, my little mystery, what do you owe her?” Circe asks Vernon.

“I’m…” he starts, looks over at you for guidance. “I’m not sure yet.”

“That’s dangerous,” Circe adds.

“We haven’t really figured…” Vernon begins, still very nervous. “She got me off Earth.”

“That’s actually part of what I needed to talk to you about. I need to get him an introduction to someone,” you say. Circe’s eyes turn back to you.

“To whom, darling?” she asks.

“I’m not sure,” you admit. “I need a recommendation. Someone that you trust that can help him disappear. Help him reappear as someone new.”

Circe regards the pair of you for a moment. Probably a moment too long for Vernon’s comfort. “I can’t help you.”

Your frustration gets the better of you before you even consider the why. “Can’t or won’t?”

“Pumpkin,” Circe says, full of affection and patience that you’re not sure you deserve. “I know the kind of favors you’re offering for something like this. I’d be stupid to turn it down if I could help you, but unfortunately I like you too much to pull the wool over on you.”

“Why can’t you help?” This, at least, comes out calm.

“I’m not sure where to turn, not now at least. There are too many people looking for him,” Circe admits.

You sigh heavily at that. In the seven years that you’ve known Circe, this is a first. It’s the first time you’ve ever presented her with a problem that she couldn’t solve. It leaves you feeling a little helpless, a feeling that you really don’t enjoy. Maybe she takes a little bit of pity on you because she does tell you to see one of her workers before you leave. He can help Vernon look a little different, at least. That’s all she can do, though, and she knows she’s still going to owe you after this.

So you’re going to have to take Vernon with you, at least for now. You feel some amount of responsibility, even though he jumped onto your ship. But he’s far too sheltered for this life, too innocent, too naive. He isn’t hard around the edges like you, doesn’t know that he can’t trust anyone, hasn’t been hurt by people he depended on.

You finish up the conversation with Circe and say your goodbyes. It completely slips your notice that Vernon isn’t right behind you when you head out the door.

“Wait a moment,” Circe says, lightly grabbing Vernon’s arm.

He looks down at the place her hand touches his arm before meeting her eyes again. The confusion on his face must be clear.

“Be careful with her,” Circe says. Vernon’s eyebrows only knit further in confusion. “I love her dearly, but it always comes at a price. She’s the kind of girl you’d name one of those hurricanes after back on Earth.”

“I’m not sure…” Vernon tries to begin. Circe waves a hand to quiet him.

“She’s wild and wonderful,” Circe says with a soft smile that only lingers a second. “But she will destroy everything in her path.”

Vernon is about to say something when you pop your head back through the door. “There you are, come on. We should really get going.”

Vernon looks back at Circe, tries to make some kind of sense of what she said. It’s pointless, though, and instead he just follows you out without a word.

If Vernon is expecting you to head straight back to the ship, he’s mistaken. You wind through the hallways like you’ve been through a hundred times before. Which is entirely possible, it’s not like Vernon knows much about you or your history. He just knows he couldn’t navigate back out if he got lost, so he stays close. It’s not that has a bad memory, it’s just that his brain is currently on overdrive. He’s thinking about what Circe said about you. But he’s also just taking in all the things he never even knew existed.

It doesn’t seem like you’re heading anywhere, even when you stop. The room is empty except for a large desk in the center. Vernon wants to ask what it is you’re doing. One look at your face tells him not to. You quickly reach into one of the drawers, like it’s the most normal thing, and pull out another device that looks like the one you gave to Circe. You stow the device in a pocket that Vernon hadn’t even noticed and make your way back out without another word.

In fact, you don’t speak again until you’re back on the ship. Vernon has a second to note that Chirron is missing before you head to the control panel and start pressing buttons. The door closes and something seems to shift with the windshields. It’s like the ship is going into some sort of shut down. You walk back past Vernon to a table and slide into one side of the booth. Vernon takes the cue and slides in across from you.

“So that didn’t exactly go as planned,” you observe.

“You were expecting her to help,” Vernon says and you nod.

“Circe knows everyone, has eyes and ears everywhere, so it’s…well I don’t want to scare you, but it’s concerning that she can’t help hide you,” you say.

“Maybe I should just go back,” Vernon wonders out loud.

“Look, you ran away for a reason and I know the kind of desperation it takes to just…run onto some random ship,” you let him know. “I’m not really sure why I’m helping, but I’m going to help. There’s just one rule.”

“What is it?” Vernon asks. He already knows he’s going to agree.

“Whatever I say, you have to follow,” you say. It sounds so simple, Vernon is sure there’s some kind of catch when you continue. “If I say run, you run. If I say hide, you hide. If I say leave me behind, you have to.”

“But…” Vernon starts and you shake your head.

“I’m going to try to find a solution, but I have to keep working too. And this isn’t exactly a safe line of work,” you tell him.

“I’d gathered,” he says before he can stop himself. You chuckle.

“At least you’re observant,” you say.

Since Chirron isn’t back yet, you send off a quick message to him that you’re going off the ship for one more quick stop. That you’ll be back within the hour and ready to go if he is. With that out of the way, you take Vernon to see Circe’s friend about blending in a little better. You’re just hoping that this isn’t going to be a waste. And also hoping that nobody recognizes him in the meantime because the last thing you need is for your name to be plastered next to his.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Two hours later, you’re all back on the ship and taking off. With a quick message to Circe, you thank her and request that she keep you updated if she hears anything interesting. Thankfully, she seems to know what that means and there’s nobody better to keep an eye out. Vernon looks different, too. His hair is a different color and style, his eyes are no longer the same shade, his clothing is entirely different, even some of the shape of his face is different. Despite his protests, you also got him a face mask and sunglasses to wear. Although he thinks that it’ll make him stand out, you insist that in your line of work, it’s standard.

Although you know you need to talk, you tell Vernon that it’s time for you all to get at least a little sleep. Chirron put it on the slow track to allow everyone a chance to rest before getting to their next stop. It’s standard practice for the two of you, but entirely foreign to Vernon.

Once you wake up again, it’s time to talk. “We need a story.”

You, Chirron, and Vernon are sitting at the table in the main part of the ship. The ship itself is on autopilot to your next stop, which Chirron says will take at least 3 more hours.

“Better late than never, I guess,” Chirron says.

“Would you stop being grumpy?” you fire back.

“No,” Chirron answers without hesitation.

“Uh, a story for what?” Vernon interrupts.

“Who you are and why we’ve let you join our missions.” Chirron gives the straightforward answer before you can be a smartass.

“Does there need to be a story?” Vernon asks, causing Chirron to sigh.

“Yes, there does,” is all Chirron says.

You shoot him a look. “Our entire livelihood depends on us staying off the wrong radars, which we’ve been good at. But it also depends on our current…clients continuing to trust us. You’re new. And while our reputation is excellent, we tend to deal with a lot of people who value privacy and secrecy over everything.”

“So she can’t just tell them we’ve picked up a rogue celebrity on the run and just go with it,” Chirron says.

“Maybe I should just…” Vernon starts.

“What? Get off the ship and try to hide on your own?” you wonder.

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Remember what I said when you got on the ship? The one rule is to do what I say?” Vernon nods at your question. “That’s still in effect, sweetheart.”

“So what’s the plan?” Chirron asks you.

“What are you good at? Besides singing and dancing?” You direct this question at Vernon.

“Rapping, not singing,” Vernon corrects quietly. “What?” you ask.

“I rapped, I didn’t sing,” Vernon tells you. “And I produced some of our tracks. In my free time, when I actually got it, I played a lot of games.”

You’re looking at Vernon like he just handed you the easiest line and he doesn’t realize it. His head is down, he’s not confident about anything he said. But you know better. You know that he just handed you the perfect solution.

“You any good with tech, then?” You try to throw out the question casually.

Chirron actually approaches a smile then. He knows where this is going and enjoys the way Vernon’s head pops up. It’s almost endearing the way his eyes go wide and he looks innocent again.

“Uh, yeah, I’m decent with it. I, well I used to try and practice any time I could get my hands on any tech. I had to use all the programs to produce the songs, so I got pretty good at it,” Vernon says.

“Chirron, I’d like you to meet our new tech specialist,” you announce and Chirron chuckles.

“Bout time I didn’t have to stumble my way through reprogramming shit,” Chirron says.

“I don’t know,” Vernon says.

“Look, I’ve got plenty of old tech on the ship that you can practice on. After the next job, we’d planned a break anyway. So, for real, I won’t pick up anything new…” you start to outline.

“Thank fuck,” Chirron whispers, silenced by your look.

“And we can lay low at our place while you figure out if you’re really our new tech guy,” you say.

“Your place?” Vernon asks.

“Yeah, I mean we’re not always on the move,” you say with a shrug.

“Okay, might as well try, I guess,” Vernon says.

“That’s the spirit,” you encourage.

Vernon shits in his seat and winces. It’s the first time that you’re actually looking at the way his body moves. You hadn’t even looked when he changed or when he had his appearance worked on, hadn’t checked for injuries or done any of that. You’re not used to having someone new around. For all yours and Chirron’s faults, both of you trust the other and know well enough to admit if you’ve been hurt. This new addition doesn’t.

He winces again and runs a hand over his chest, something he clearly hopes you don’t notice. You do, though. His eyes meet yours and he looks scared, like he’s still not sure if he can trust you. Like he’s still on edge with every move.

“Are you okay?” you ask, voice gentle so you don’t scare him.

“This is all a bit weird to get used to,” Vernon answers.

“That’s not what I meant,” you level.

“It’s nothing,” he insists.

“Vernon, if we’re all gonna be in this, then you have to tell us what’s going on,” you say with as much care as you can muster. Certainly more care than Chirron is used to.

“It’s not that bad, it could be a lot worse, it’s just…well it’s the communication device that I used to have. My manager, he had to stay behind, he’d been loosening it for weeks so it wasn’t as painful when it came out but I had to run before he could finish. And I almost got caught trying to have someone fix it for me,” Vernon says.

“You’re going to need to let us see,” Chirron says. Vernon looks between the two of you before he lifts his shirt over his head. Beneath it, he’s wearing a bandage that wraps around his body. You lean forward to start unwinding the wrapping, needing to get a look. It’s weird, you think, to brush your fingers against his skin and have it feel so much like your own. Weirder still is seeing the partial hole leftover in his chest. You can see where some of the edges need to be smoothed and where he needs to keep it covered. Vernon doesn’t seem nervous under your touch, which reminds you that he’s not actually human, despite how much his upper body seems like he would be.

“Chirron, can you go get me my toolkit?” you ask.

“What are you going to do?” Vernon asks suspiciously.

“I’m going to do everything I can to make it more comfortable while we’re on the ship and then we can figure out next moves once we land,” you say.

“You don’t know what you’re doing,” Vernon protests and you just raise an eyebrow.

Chirron reappears with a box and stifles a chuckle at the scene. “I wouldn’t be so sure.”

“How do you know what to do?” Vernon tries a different question.

“She worked as a Automaton mechanic for almost a year,” Chirron answers, taking your fun of torturing him away.

“I thought you were a criminal,” Vernon admits and this does make Chirron laugh. You join in.

“I’m a lot of things, sweetheart, I’ve lived a very full life,” you say and don’t offer any further explanations.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Back home, you get settled and suggest you all get some rest before you decide on next moves. You know that Vernon doesn’t actually sleep now, but you also know he has to recharge. Which is all sleep is anyway, so you send him off to his own area to recharge. Once you’re all awake again, Chirron helps you come up with a more permanent solution to the whole where Vernon’s communication device used to be. It’s painful, you know that it’s painful for him and you wish you could help. But you can’t. All you can do is help him through it and know that when you’re done, he shouldn’t be in pain anymore. He takes even longer to recharge after you’re done. When he emerges, though, he does feel a lot better and he’s incredibly thankful.

It’s been just over three weeks since Vernon ran onto your ship without looking back. Just about three weeks since you finished the last job after leaving Salax. Chirron has loved every minute of getting to take the break. In fact, you’ve gone entire days without seeing him while he takes time for himself. It’s one of the longer breaks you’ve taken and he’s actually enjoying it.

You, on the other hand, don’t like to be still. Don’t like to be stationary. It gives you entirely too much time to think and to remember all the reasons you’re in this position now. For the first few days, you tried to give Vernon his space like Chirron. He had more tech and gadgets than he’d seen in his entire existence, which is good. It seemed like he was enjoying getting to work on them and learn as he went. Annoyingly, he took to it almost immediately.

But then he seemed to realize that you didn’t like to be left to your own devices. That you’re the opposite of Chirron and would probably never stop moving if you had the choice. So he asks if you would be willing to keep him company while he works through things, insists that he doesn’t need silence in order to work. Actually, he thinks that he’s gotten a good handle on it and it would be better having you around. Even though you look skeptical, you take him up on the offer.

While Vernon works (and occasionally curses at something, using a swear word he learned from you), he asks about your life. Usually you keep all of that to yourself. It’s not really comfortable for you to share the parts of your past. But this isn’t a normal situation. Meeting someone like Vernon isn’t an everyday occurrence. So you find yourself telling him things that it took you months or years to tell Chirron without giving it a second thought. Everything just feels…easy. There’s no other word. Vernon has experienced things you couldn’t ever imagine, but he’s still so new at people and interactions. There’s no fear of judgment with him. It’s almost refreshing.

Vernon listens intently as you talk about your childhood and how you got to where you are now. It’s hard for him to really imagine having parents like yours that loved you and cared for you. That’s not an experience or relationship he’s had, even as close as he is to his other members. When you start to talk about things getting harder, you pick up a communication device to start fidgeting with it. Something you may not even realize but Vernon has learned enough of human emotion to know you’re uncomfortable. Not so uncomfortable that you stop talking, just unused to talking about this part of your past. The emotion is clear on your face when you talk about losing your parents, even for Vernon to pick out. Although you insist they weren’t perfect, they were all you had and you were way too young to try and make it on your own. Yet that’s exactly what you had to do. Exactly what landed you here.

It surprises Vernon when you’re equally as interested in hearing about his experiences up until this point. About how others interacted with him, about what his emotions are like, about just generally how he feels. Which catches him off guard. He can’t remember a time in his existence where someone has actually wanted to know how he was doing in that way. Sure, people cared that he was performing at the top level and there were plenty across the galaxy that claimed to care about him. But Vernon could not recall someone asking him how he felt about any of it like he had a choice to feel anything at all. Not until you, that is.

So that made Vernon want to talk. He started at the easiest place to tell you about performing and about his members. Even with the space and distance from them, he thinks he did genuinely care for them, genuinely enjoy being around them. He realizes that he enjoyed the performing aspect of it too. What he found he didn’t enjoy was the control and the treatment behind the scenes. He was always a commodity, always expected to do as he was told. Never permitted to see other parts of the world, interact with others the way he might want to. None of his time was ever truly free, his every move was watched. It was fine, at the beginning of Vernon’s consciousness, to live that way.

However, as Vernon became more aware of the universe around him, he began to feel that he was missing something. He wanted to see more, know more, experience more. It made him restless. Sure, he’s not human, or even alien, and he can’t bleed or die the way others can. But he was given consciousness, given the ability to think and move freely, the ability to form bonds with others, the ability to question. With that had come the thought of something more than he currently had. All of that had led him to this moment.

It’s hard, hearing about the life Vernon led. But you can also see how talking about his feelings with someone that cares changes him. He’s able to sort through feelings that he never considered before. It’s really nice to be able to offer that to him, to be able to support him in such a human way. Whatever else is true about the Automatons, they clearly have enough consciousness that they deserve to be treated far differently.

It also naturally flows into you sharing what work actually looks like for you and Chirron. And Vernon now that he’s joining the team. You outline the jobs you take, the types of clients you have, the methods that you use to get a job done. Vernon seems a little wide-eyed at some of the jobs you take or how you get them done. But that’s when you remind him that getting a job done by any means necessary is kind of your whole motto. He doesn’t have to worry, you’ll never put him or Chirron in a compromising situation and never ask either of them to do something they’re not comfortable with. If it’s something…compromising, you’ll always do that yourself or call in a favor from your network. Although Vernon doesn’t look like he likes the answer, he accepts it.

Neither you or Vernon notice the moment when your days shift. What started as the two of you going about your days separately before ending up chatting about something turned into being together throughout the day, not even really tracking the last time Chirron had been by. Although you assured Vernon it wasn’t really an issue, both you and Chirron wore bracelets with trackers in them so you’d always know where the other was. That’s a relief, because honestly Vernon likes this comfort between you and him. He does ask if he should get a bracelet too and you say that you’ll get him one as well.

Finally, though, all good things must come to an end. You manage to call Chirron back so that you can move forward with your plan. Everyone is still looking for Vernon and his other members, but it seems that nobody has reported any sightings. At least not of Vernon.

“Are you ready to move back out?” you ask Chirron over dinner.

“If we must,” he sighs. Then he turns to Vernon. “Though I should thank you, actually, she’s never stayed still for this long.”

“Not like she’s stayed still while we’ve been here,” Vernon offers.

“Hey,” you protest.

“You haven’t,” Vernon doubles down. He’s different now, much more comfortable pushing back against you like an equal rather than someone who just needs to be saved.

“This is still unprecedented for her,” Chirron says. “I was sure we’d be back on a job within the first week.”

“Okay, okay,” you interrupt.

“Do you have a job lined up for us?” Chirron asks.

“Several, just deciding the right one. I’m going to reach out to Circe first, though, on the unsecured line just to plant the first seeds,” you say.

This is part of the plan. You trust Circe, despite your insistence that you don’t trust anyone, but you can never be too careful. So you have two ways to talk. One is the most secure, locked down communicator in the galaxy and it’s strictly for sensitive jobs or when you can’t drop in to see her in person. It’s how she’s been keeping you updated on any rumblings about Vernon. The other is for things that wouldn’t matter so much if someone else saw it.

You: hey love, just wanted to let you know that we finally expanded the crew beyond chirron and myself Circe: about time, who’s the new addition? You: he goes by sol, caught the fucker trying to hack one of my comms and offered him a job on the spot Circe: only you Circe: so you finally have a tech specialist? You: looks like it Circe: well stop by the next time you’re in the area, first round’s on me

Vernon offered up that he was also called Hansol as an actual name. Though he preferred to keep going by Vernon, Sol would make for a good name to resurface under. Nobody would be able to put those two together, so it seemed safe while still ringing at least partly true. You taught him that the best cover stories or lies had a little bit of truth to them. It made it easier to navigate.

Predictably, after reaching out to Circe, you got several more job requests. Each one came with a message that they’d heard about the new addition to your team and were looking forward to hiring you even more. Which is exactly what you wanted. Although the other two had initially been skeptical, they had come around. There was undeniable logic in the idea of Vernon hiding in almost plain sight. Nobody in their right mind would go looking for a missing Automaton on a ship of questionable legality that made frequent stops on a planet like Salax. Everything in his programming should have stopped that.

Which just leaves picking a job to start with, something you do all the time. Vernon can tell you’re a bit nervous, and he is too honestly, but it’s going to be okay. It has to be okay.

“I’m just gonna remind you before we head out,” you start, allowing Chirron to go ahead onto the ship, “you can leave any time you want. After the first two jobs, that is.”

“But you’re still gonna be doing this, right?” Vernon asked.

“Yeah,” you answer quickly.

Vernon shrugs. “I’m with you then.”

“Vern,” you caution. He only shakes his head.

“I wanna stick by you, you’re the first person that’s ever given a shit about me,” he says.

That makes your heart skip a beat, which you don’t really have time to consider since you’re supposed to be taking off any minute now. In fact, if you don’t follow Vernon onto the ship, you’re sure that Chirron is going to come storming off to yell at you for holding them up. There are certain windows that you need to operate in. So you file the feeling away to be dealt with later, like so many other things in your life, and get on the ship. You still have a team to run.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Everything goes fine with Vernon on the team. At least for a while. That’s the good thing about the type of work you do. Nobody really asks that many questions about your team or your backgrounds or where you were before. Nobody really cares, honestly, when your reputation is spotless and you’ve never missed a job. Honestly, you think that this whole situation is pretty perfect. Even Chirron, ever the pessimist, seems satisfied.

Which is why you don’t see the issue coming. You should, you know it’s your job to see every possible outcome and calculate the likelihood of success, but you don’t see this one. Don’t anticipate something going wrong because of Vernon nearly blowing your cover. Don’t even consider that he might have an issue now, when it’s been weeks, with your methods for getting something done. Don’t think that you have to remind him that the number one rule when it comes to jobs is by any means necessary.

Yet that’s what happens. He turns remarkably human, even with the restlessness that you’ve come to expect, when the three of you are sitting with an unsuspecting mark. Another human that doesn’t realize you’re on a job rather than just enjoying some drinks on a night out. You’re getting ready to take the mark to a backroom so that you can get the information you need and Vernon seems like he wants to stop you. Actively tries to delay you, actually.

“Baby, it’s getting a little crowded in here, why don’t you go ahead and see about a room reservation,” you say, offering your most seductive smile. The mark hesitates for a moment, thrown off by Vernon’s last comments.

“I would hate to get in the way…” he begins and your hand is on his arm immediately.

“I assure you, you’re not,” you say with eyes only for him. “I promise, I’ll meet you at the desk in just a minute.”

“How can I say no to that?” he asks, enamored with you again. Like too many before him.

The second he’s out of earshot, Vernon exhales and opens his mouth to say something. You’re quick to plaster on the same smile.

“Chirron, take him back to the ship and wait for me there,” you say quietly, making sure nobody can hear you and nobody realizes you’re unhappy.

“Look, I’m sorry, I just…” Vernon starts.

“Not here,” you respond quickly, keeping the smile in place.

“Okay, but…” Vernon tries again, but Chirron is nudging him out of the booth.

“Let’s get something to eat, I’m starving,” he says without bothering to be quiet. He knows your moves well enough to play along.

“All you think about is food,” you jibe affectionately.

“Don’t take too long, we’ve still got work to do,” Chirron calls over his shoulder as he leads Vernon away.

You watch the two of them disappear into the crowd before you join the mark. Thankfully, he seems so taken by your flirting that he accepts your excuses of your friends being hungry. Everyone gets a little cranky, he sympathizes. The desk attendant offers you the key to one of the private rooms and you lead the way, feeling the mark following you without needing to check.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a little longer than normal and definitely longer than you’d like before you’re also headed back to the ship. This mark needed a little more foreplay before he was ready to spill the secrets that you need. Or maybe you’re a little off your game from the near issue that Vernon created. You know you’re good, you’ve done this enough times to know that you can be irresistible, but you don’t like unexpected interference. You definitely don’t ever expect that to come from your own team. And you don’t like having to resort to different plans, like you did tonight. Normally, you don’t take it that far. No matter. You got what you needed.

Once you’re heading back to the ship, you fire off a quick message to Chirron to ask if he’s got any food leftover on the ship. He knows it’s code. You’re asking if he actually went to get something to eat or if they went straight back to the ship. His answer comes immediately. They do have food, he lists off what the leftovers are, but you took too long and it might be cold. A suggestion to get your own food if you’re hungry. And also a suggestion to take an extra beat if you need it before you come back to the situation on the ship. So you take heed and pick up some food from your favorite stand before returning to the ship.

Both Chirron and Vernon are sitting in the booth as soon as you turn around from closing the hatch. Chirron looks tired, like he’s run an entire marathon in the time since you parted ways. Vernon looks restless, like he’s barely able to stay seated. Maybe that’s why Chirron looks so worn out.

“What the fuck, Vernon?” you ask as soon as you’re sitting down and setting out your food.

“What do you mean?” he asks as if it’s a completely unreasonable question.

“You nearly blew our cover!” you retort.

“Because you were going to…you were taking him, you were going to…” he stutters out.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake, I was going to fuck him,” you cut over him.

He blanches at the bluntness of your statement. Even after all the time he’s been around you, he’s still surprised. “Well that’s just…you shouldn’t have to do that.”

Your eyes flick to Chirron, as if you’re asking what he’s been doing the last two hours that you were indisposed.

“He doesn’t want to hear what I have to say,” Chirron says. Vernon glances between the two of you. It’s still foreign to him that you can communicate without using any words.

“No, I don’t,” Vernon agrees.

“Well, you should,” you say flatly. “Chirron is just as much in charge as I am. Whatever he says, also goes.”

“Not when it comes to you doing…that,” Vernon says.

“No, that was my choice,” you agree.

“And you shouldn’t have done it,” Vernon argues.

“According to who, Vern?” you ask.

“You just shouldn’t have to…use your body like that,” he says and looks down. He’s embarrassed, but you’re not sure why.

“Sweetheart, you knew the game. I told you that jobs get done by whatever means necessary. I told you that I’d never ask you or Chirron to do what I did, but that if it came to it, I would do it,” you explain.

“I didn’t think you were serious,” he says quietly.

“So, what? You thought you’d come in like some Knight to protect my honor and risk blowing the job?” You’re a little incredulous at that.

“I don’t know, I just didn’t like the idea of you and that guy…” Vernon starts and stops. Chirron, thankfully on the edge of the booth, gets up then.

“We need some supplies before we leave here. I’ll go grab them,” he says and leaves before either you or Vernon can object.

“What was the first rule, Vernon?” you ask when the silence gets too deafening.

“That we finish jobs by any means necessary, I know,” he huffs out.

“No, the real first rule. When I agreed to help you,” you prompt, voice soft. He finally looks up at you. He knows and doesn’t want to say. “That, no matter what, you had to listen to what I told you.”

“I know,” he answers like a defeated man.

“Then why didn’t you?” you press.

“I don’t know,” he admits. “I just…I knew you were about to go into that back room with that guy and I knew how far you’d be willing to go to get what we need and it just…it made me mad.”

“Mad?” you ask. “Why are you mad?”

Vernon is frustrated, you recognize it immediately. Not because of what you did, or not entirely, at least. He’s frustrated because he’s feeling an emotion that he doesn’t understand and doesn’t know how to describe. This isn’t the first time you’ll have to walk him through sorting it out. But it is the first time you’re not sure if you can. You’re nervous about what he’s feeling and why. Nervous about what he’s going to say. Nervous about what he’s actually feeling.

“I don’t know,” he admits. He’s frustrated. He doesn’t like not understanding how he’s feeling. “I just, I had this feeling in my stomach when you started making plans with that guy and I didn’t like it.”

“That’s understandable,” you offer.

“Is it?” His question comes quickly. “I wanted to, I don’t know, I wanted to tell him to get lost or just tell us what we needed to know but stop looking at you like you’re a meal. Or like you’re something to win. You’re not a thing, you’re a person.”

You’re relieved, mostly, because you think you can identify this emotion in a way that doesn’t complicate an already overly complicated situation. Your smile at him is soft, sofer than he’s seen on you since you left the break between jobs. Softer than you give to anyone on jobs and far more genuine. “Yeah, it is understandable. It just means you care, you’re protective over me.”

Vernon seems to consider this for a second like he’s not entirely sure that’s it. Seems to want to say something else. “I do care about you.”

“I know you do,” you say.

“I don’t like feeling like this, like I want to protect you and I know that I can’t,” he admits.

“It’s tough,” you agree and then decide to admit something. “I feel that way about you, too.”

“You do?” Vernon looks hopeful, like you understand.

“Course I do,” you say easily. “I feel, I’m not sure, responsible for you, I guess. Like I threw you into this life without much choice and I worry that I’m putting you in more danger than when you ran onto the ship in the first place.”

“You’re not.” He’s quick to reassure you. “Life in the last month or two with you has been better than my entire existence up to meeting you.”

That shouldn’t warm your heart, shouldn’t make it beat irregularly, shouldn’t make you feel something more than just the care you mentioned. It does, though. It’s making you feel a lot of things that you really don’t need to be feeling.

In contrast, Vernon seems much lighter. It seems like he’s relieved by understanding the care he feels for you is normal and relieved he could let you know how good things have been since he met you. It doesn’t go deeper for him, at least not now. Not when you gave him a simple name for the emotion. You don’t think he realizes that you’re in your head about the entire conversation and what this means for the two of you going forward. You don’t think he realizes that there’s another emotional explanation for his reaction and you’re not going to tell him.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

Vernon thinks about that conversation with you a lot over the next several weeks of missions. He thinks about how he felt watching you make plans to go somewhere private with a person that you called a mark. He thinks about the feelings that boiled up inside of him that he described as anger when they felt like much more. He thinks of the way you react to him almost ruining a mission and how you reacted to him after you got back. He tries not to think about what you did while he waited in too much silence on the ship with Chirron.

He spends the most time thinking about what you didn’t say. Even though he’s not sure what it was, he knows there’s something. Your face can be really expressive when your guard is down, as it usually is around him and Chirron. Part of him wants to think he reacted the way he did only because he cares about you in the same way that Chirron does. That you’re a team, some kind of weird version of a family that protects each other. But then he remembers how you went quiet after he accepted, with relief, the idea that it was only caring about you. Too many times, he finds himself wanting to ask what you didn’t say.

The three of you all agree that he should stay on the ship more during those kinds of missions. There’s really no reason for you all to be off the ship, anyway. You’re usually the only one that interacts with people like that, the only one that seems comfortable putting yourself out there like that. Vernon hates that you feel like you have to take those jobs, hates that you’re willing to go to those lengths. Although you tell him a lot, he doesn’t know that you don’t mind that part of it. That you don’t see yourself as someone that forms actual romantic attachments, that sex is just sex for you. Just another part of life.

It’s another mission where you think you may need to get close to a mark, another mission where you think you may need a back room without prying eyes. Whatever that means. This time, Chirron offers to stay on the ship with Vernon. He says it’s because there’s some things he needs to work on, but Vernon sees it for what it is. He doesn’t want to leave the newest team member alone. Chirron is much more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for.

“You know, I never asked you,” Chirron starts, causing Vernon to look up from the transponder he’s fiddling with. “What were you hoping for when you ran onto our ship?”

Vernon considers this for a moment. It feels like a lifetime ago, yet also feels like it was just yesterday. “I’m not sure. I think I just hoped that I could catch my breath long enough to figure out my next move.”

“Not join a team that takes on illegal jobs across the galaxy?” Chirron asks, that dry humor surfacing again.

“No,” Vernon agrees with a small chuckle.

“Why do you stay?” Chirron wonders.

“Trying to get rid of me?” Vernon asks in response.

“No,” Chirron answers immediately. “No, having you around has been good for her. For both of us, really. I’m just curious about why you stay when you don’t have to. Is it just because you don’t have anywhere else to go?”

Vernon, thankfully, is used to Chirron’s way of speaking. So he knows there’s nothing malicious behind the question, only curiosity.

“No, it’s not that. Not that I have some idea of where to go beyond that one sanctuary planet I’ve heard of,” Vernon says. “I like being around both of you. It feels like I belong? I haven’t felt like this before. It’s nice. Kind of like a feeling of being warm all over.”

“I’m glad,” Chirron says genuinely.

“I don’t like this part though,” Vernon says and shifts in his seat again.

“The waiting?” Chirron wonders, but there’s something on his face that Vernon can’t place. Thankfully, he carries on. “Or the waiting when you know what she’s doing?”

Vernon frowns at that. He’s still not sure he has the right name for this feeling. “Why does she put herself in positions like this?”

Chirron shrugs. “Don’t know. I’ve tried to tell her that some jobs aren’t worth it, but it’s like she has to prove something. To who, I’m not sure.”

“You don’t stop her, though,” Vernon observes.

“No, I don’t,” he agrees.

“Why?” Vernon presses.

“Because, as you saw on that mission a few weeks ago when she sent us away, she’s going to do it anyway. I know the difference between when something is actually dangerous and when it’s just not what I would do. So I let her go unless it’s actually dangerous,” Chirron says.

“It still doesn’t feel good,” Vernon admits.

“No, because you care about her,” Chirron says like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

“Of course I do, I care about both of you,” Vernon says. “You care about her too.”

“I do,” Chirron agrees and that look is back, “but not the same way as you do, I don’t think.”

“Are there multiple ways to care for someone?” Vernon asks.

Chirron chuckles, a low, comforting sound. “Of course. There’s the way her and I care about each other, like family. Like someone that could drive you absolutely insane, but you still love them and you’d still be there for them in a friendly way.”

“And what’s the other way?” Vernon wonders.

“Caring about them like you have feelings for them. Like they’re the first one on your mind when you wake up or the last one on your mind before you go to sleep. Like you just want to be around them and feel a little empty when you’re not. Like you’re not entirely sure what you’d do if one day they just weren’t there anymore,” Chirron explains.

“Oh,” is all Vernon can say.

“I don’t know how you feel, or how she feels, but it doesn’t seem like just the kind of caring like it is between her and I,” Chirron says. “I love her and I’d do anything to protect her, but I don’t have feelings for her.”

“Do I?” Vernon asks quietly.

“I don’t know, only you can figure that out,” Chirron says.

Feelings are difficult, Vernon thinks as he contemplates Chirron’s explanation. Every time he thinks that he’s got a handle on them, something else comes up to throw him for a loop. His body almost relaxes to help the fact that his mind is going entirely too fast. Chirron, seeming to sense that he gave Vernon a lot to think about, goes back to what he was working on before the conversation.

It’s easy to be around Chirron, something Vernon has known since the beginning. But now he realizes that it’s easy in an entirely different way than being around you. With Chirron, there’s a comfort and a familiarity and definitely a care. Just like he describes feeling about you. With you, it’s entirely different. Vernon finds himself wondering about your past, wanting to know every detail even though you’ve shared a lot. He wants to know what you think, especially when you go silent. What thoughts are you keeping to yourself and why don’t you want to share them?

The worst, though, is easily the way Vernon feels when you’re off on your own like this. He’s not sure how to put it into words or how to even Chirron about it. Or if he even wants to ask Chirron about it. He just knows that he doesn’t like it, that it makes him feel unsteady and unfocused. That he makes mistakes on whatever he’s working on when he thinks of this aspect of the jobs. It’s like he wants to lash out at the marks or the clients that hire them in the first place. He wants to let these people know that you’re not actually interested in them. That it’s only for work. But is that true?

“Chirron, can I ask you something?” Vernon finally asks.

“Sure,” Chirron says. He’s much more relaxed around Vernon, probably because he doesn’t try to rile Chirron up.

“I’ve got this feeling that I’m not sure about, it pops up when we’re on missions like these,” Vernon begins before outlining just how he feels when he thinks about what you’re doing.

Chirron is quiet, thoughtful as he listens, giving Vernon his full attention. He lets Vernon finish uninterrupted before he’s quiet for a second. “Well, it sounds like jealousy.”

“Jealous of who? Of her?” Vernon asks. He knows what jealousy is, just like every other emotion, because it’s simply knowledge of the existence of emotions. He doesn’t know how it feels though, not really. Like every other emotion, it’s something he’s had to learn as he goes.

“Of the people she’s with,” Chirron answers, amused.

“Why would I be jealous of them?” Vernon asks.

“I can’t tell you the why, Vernon, you know that,” Chirron says without any hint of frustration. “I can just say what it sounds like. Which is that you’re jealous she’s behind closed doors with someone other than you.”

“You think I want…to do that, I don’t even know…I’m not sure how something like that would even work,” Vernon splutters, tripping over his words worse than he’s done in a while.

Chirron takes pity on him and only gives him a sympathetic look. It allows Vernon to gather his thoughts before he says anything else. A blessing, actually, because a minute later, the door opens to allow you back onto the ship. You look a little like you’ve been up to something that Vernon doesn’t really want to consider. Like you tried to straighten yourself out again, but couldn’t quite get everything. Thankfully, you don’t seem to notice the tension in the air and just immediately go to pull out something to eat. Life moves on for you like nothing else happened.

Thankfully, Vernon can pretend he’s working on reprogramming a communicator, something he needs to do for a job anyway, and stay back away from the cockpit of the ship. He also knows that you’ll eat up there with Chirron to talk about how things went. To talk through the finer details of the information you were able to extract. You don’t talk to Vernon about those details and he doesn’t stop to think about why. He’s just glad you don’t. Not that you go into explicit detail with Chirron. It’s just…well maybe Chirron is right. Maybe Vernon is jealous because he’s got deeper feelings for you.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It’s supposed to be easy. That’s what you say. You don’t take on jobs that would put the team at too much of a risk and you don’t ask them to do anything they don’t want to do. You haven’t even taken on a job recently where you’d have to leave Vernon and Chirron on the ship while you entertained a mark. This is an exception, you say, too good of a job to pass up given that it should be simple. So simple.

Vernon makes it back to the ship before Chirron does, which makes sense. All Vernon had to do was meet with one of your contacts to swap out some tech he’d been using. After all this time, Vernon isn’t entirely sure what Chirron does when he’s off the ship. He asked once and didn’t get a straight answer. You shrugged it off and said that Chirron does a lot of things, some of which you don’t even know or understand. When you didn’t seem concerned, Vernon let it go as well.

Once Chirron gets back, Vernon pays more attention to the feeling in his stomach since you agreed to this mission. Something just feels…off. Not right. He’s trying not to dwell too much on it because he’s very aware it might be, at least in part, due to his feelings for you. Feelings that he now very much recognizes are real. Whatever that means for him. He hates watching you walk away when he thinks about what you’ll be doing. And he agrees it’s best for him to stay on the ship rather than risk blowing the mission.

Except…well now he’s actually getting worried. It’s been too long since you left the ship, longer than usual. Long enough that even Chirron doesn’t shoot Vernon down when he brings up his concern. Which only serves to concern Vernon more because Chirron is almost always level. Even now, only his eyes give anything away when Vernon mentions just how long it’s been since you left the ship. After several minutes of back and forth, Chirron agrees that it should be Vernon that leaves the ship to try and find anything out about you. As much as Chirron tries to stay in the shadows, he’s been working with you for years now and people automatically associate him with you.

So Vernon enters the building, manages to figure out where you had gone without raising any suspicions. After all, your reputation for chasing after pleasure proceeds you. Something Vernon is cursing himself for even considering. The thought flies out as soon as he’s in the room and he sees you lying on the couch, covered in cuts and bruises, only half-dressed. He’s beside you in what feels like a second, checking to make sure he feels a pulse. But, up close he can hear your slightly labored breaths. It could be worse, he reminds himself, as he gets you dressed and wraps you up. He doesn’t want it to be obvious just how beaten up you are before he’s had time to think. Or to consider what you’d do in this situation. Everything in him shuts down apart from the need to get you out a back door and onto the ship as quickly as possible.

Back on the ship, Vernon collapses into the booth while Chirron takes over and takes you into the sleeping cabin. Thankfully, Chirron knows enough basic First Aid that he’ll be able to patch you up before taking you to see a professional. Someone that you and Chirron trust enough to take you there. But, for now, he’s cleaning your wounds and wrapping you up as best he can. Vernon knows he should be helping, knows that an extra set of hands would help. He just…can’t. Can’t seem to find the strength to see you in this condition. He’s just amazed he got you back to the ship without losing it or without anyone seeing you. And thankful, so very thankful, that Chirron is keeping it together.

Without a word, Chirron emerges from the sleep cabin and heads straight for the front of the ship. Vernon’s barely even sat down in your usual seat before the ship takes off. Chirron doesn’t fly too high, he’s just going to a different part of the planet. That’s what he said when he said that you and him knew someone that could help. It both feels like an eternity and no time at all when the ship lands again. Vernon expects to help you off the ship. Instead, Chirron tells him to stay put, that he’ll be back.

Doc, that’s what Chirron calls him, looks like a man that’s aged beyond his actual years. He looks like he’s seen more than most people would over several lifetimes. Yet, he seems kind. Seems like he could be anyone’s father or uncle. This time, Vernon does actually follow them back to the sleep cabin, careful to stay out of the way. Doc starts taking stock of you and attaching a number of devices to various parts of your body. They start beeping and it should calm Vernon, because at least something is happening. They don’t, though. All he can think is that you shouldn’t have been in this position in the first place. This was the wrong job to take.

Vernon’s learned a lot about emotions during the time with you and Chirron, a lot more than he learned in all his time before. He knows, now more than ever, that he cares about you far beyond just being friends. He knows that he’s never felt this kind of fear. Knows that he can’t be still, even for a second. It’s always been like this, Vernon has always suffered from restlessness. It’s a million times worse now. And it’s getting in the way of your care. Somewhere in his pacing and mumbling, something he doesn’t even realize he’s doing, Chirron sends him away. Doc gives him a sympathetic look, like he understands, before turning back to you.

It’s not any easier to be outside of the sleep cabin because Vernon can still hear everything that’s happening. The entire ship is silent except for the work Doc is doing. Not seeing what’s happening is even worse and Vernon’s restlessness turns into something more like anxiety. He can’t imagine going on without you. Not that anyone has said that would be a possibility. In fact, Doc seems to think you’ll be fine in no time. Most of the injuries are merely surface level. Chirron comes back out with a list of things that they need and tells Vernon to go take care of it. It’ll help you and help him in the process. He’s not doing anyone any good in the state he’s in now.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a few days, but you’re mostly back to your normal self. The worst part, for you, is that you fractured one of your ribs. So that means rest, Doc’s orders. Vernon was happy to hear it because it meant that you had no choice but to take a break. Chirron seemed pleased as well, saying once Doc was off the ship, he’d take you back to the homebase.

You, however, wake up back home and seem irritated. Remind both Vernon and Chirron that you still have a job to do. Can’t seem to wrap your head around your injuries or the severity of the situation. That’s the first time that Vernon sees Chirron raise his voice with you. It’s the first time he sees the usually calm force standing firm in his position. You’re on bedrest for now so that you can actually heal. Together, you can all figure out what to tell the client. But your health is most important or it’ll be a lot longer than a matter of weeks that you’re out of commission.

Vernon doesn’t get to listen in on the conversation about what happened. It’s Chirron’s decision, saying that he thinks it’ll just be easier. So Vernon doesn’t know what happened, not really. Sure, he can guess and probably paint at least a picture. Does he really want to know, though? He’s not sure. He doesn’t want the details of just how you were going to get the information, so maybe it’s better like this. What he does need, though, is to talk to you. Chirron gives him that chance as soon as he can, which Vernon is thankful for.

“You look better,” Vernon says after a light knock on your door frame.

You laugh lightly and Vernon worries for a second, but you seem fine. “Wow, you really know how to butter a girl up.”

“I was worried about you,” Vernon says as he crosses to sit in the chair next to your bed.

“It takes a lot more than that guy to take me down for real, sweetheart,” you offer.

Vernon’s jaw clenches. “Still.”

“Hey,” you say and reach out to take his hand. “I’m really okay. I’ve had worse than this, I promise.”

“You think that makes me feel better?” Vernon wonders with a shake of his head.

“This is a dangerous line of work,” you say.

“I’m aware of that,” Vernon answers.

“What’s really on your mind? Chirron’s worried about you,” you admit.

“We could have lost you,” Vernon says, barely more than a whisper. “I could have lost you.”

“But you didn’t,” you say gently.

“But I could have and it’s like,” Vernon presses, pausing to think of the right word. “It’s like you don’t even care. Like it’s all a joke.”

“Of course I care, Nonie,” you say. Vernon tries, and fails, to stop his heart from skipping over the nickname that falls so easily from your lips. “This is the job, I know you and Chirron were worried about what was going to happen to me…”

“This isn’t about Chirron,” Vernon snaps and you pull your hand away from his.

“What is it about?” you ask, guard up.

“It’s about me almost losing you. About me feeling something that I didn’t even think I was capable of feeling and then worrying I’d lose you before I ever got to tell you,” Vernon says.

“Vernon, I don’t think…” you start again, only to fall silent at whatever look you see in his eyes.

“I know it sounds crazy, I know what I am,” Vernon says without meeting your gaze. “We were never supposed to be more than robots. I’ve heard it all. Nobody ever could have predicted that we’d get a consciousness. Nobody seems to know what that even means or what it is. I just know that I ran from the only other beings that I’ve ever known straight onto your ship. And I thought it’d be scary or I’d regret it, but I don’t. You taught me and guided me without making me feel less than. I was teetering on the edge of way too much…whatever this restlessness is. You were like a balm for that.” “I’m glad,” you say, voice just as quiet. “It’s easy to be around you, Vernon. I’m glad you feel at ease here.”

“I don’t understand how…feelings work or what they mean, not when it comes to what I feel for you,” Vernon says. He looks at you, so hopeful. “Maybe we can figure it out together.”

“Vernon, I’m not…I don’t think I’m built for something like that,” you say, pleading for him to understand.

“You don’t care about me?” Vernon wonders.

“No, of course I do,” you disagree. “I just…I don’t know what I really feel either. I just know relationships, they’ve never been what I sought out. They get too complicated in this line of work where anything can happen.”

“So leave,” Vernon offers, like it’s so easy.

“Leave?” you question.

“Yes, quit doing this kind of work. Leave and start a new life away from all of this,” Vernon pleads.

“And what? Just abandon Chirron?” you ask angrily.

“Of course not,” Vernon retorts. “You and I both know that he only stays because you’re family to him. He doesn’t want to do this forever.”

“Is that what you and him talk about when I’m off the ship getting information?” You’re angry now, but Vernon thinks he’s a little annoyed too.

“No,” Vernon says. “The only time we’ve talked about you is when he helped me process what I was feeling. I just, it doesn’t take some kind of genius to see he stays because he cares about you.”

“This is the only life I’ve ever known,” you say, anger subsiding to be replaced by you looking smaller than ever before.

“No it’s not,” Vernon disagrees. “You told me about your family.”

“Don’t bring them up,” you caution.

“It doesn’t have to be like this, surely you see that,” Vernon pleads again.

“If I say no, will you stay? Or are you asking me to choose between you and this entire network I’ve built over years?” As soon as you say it, Vernon knows he’s lost. Knows that you’ve already made up your mind.

“I’m not asking you to choose anything,” Vernon says. “But I’m not going to continue to watch someone that I care this deeply about put herself in so much danger. So you don’t have to leave this life. I’m done, though.”

“What?” You look like you’ve been smacked.

“I’m done,” Vernon repeats. “I can’t go on like this. I can’t feel the way I do every time you leave the ship. I can’t keep wondering if I’m going to find you in an even worse position. So, I’m leaving. I’d love for you to come with me, but you’ve made your position clear.”

“So, that’s it?” you ask.

“That’s it,” Vernon confirms.

He leaves the room for long enough to say his goodbyes to Chirron, who doesn’t seem surprised that it’s going like this. He’s sad, for sure. Vernon knows what he said was true, Chirron would leave if he could, but he won’t leave you alone. The two of you are family and Vernon’s thankful that you’ll still have someone to depend on.

There’s nothing left to say to you, nothing but all the things left unsaid. Things that he wishes he could say and things he knows you want to say. Things neither of you will say to the other. Which is fine. It has to be. Vernon has gotten a crash course in humanity, so he tries to squash down the disappointment when he says goodbye to Chirron and you don’t even bother trying to stop him. Barely registers Chirron asking where he’s going. Truthfully, he doesn’t have a plan, so he blurts out the first thing to come to mind. He’s heard of another planet, he thinks it’s called Lumen, that’s something of a sanctuary planet. He’s going to need time to get things together before he can depart. This isn’t something he’d really thought would happen. For the time being, he’s going to stay with another of your contacts that he’s worked closely with since joining the team. One of the only other beings that he trusts apart from you and Chirron.

Just like that, he’s out the door without a backward glance to see that you got as far as your door. Without seeing the way your face falls at him leaving. Without seeing the way Chirron shakes his head at the situation. But you don’t call out, don’t try to stop him. You just let him go like there aren’t any other options.

*+:★:+━━━+:★:+━━━+:★:+*

It takes a couple weeks to arrange the transport (and Chirron helping Vernon out by sending credits and outstanding favors to cash in along without you knowing) to Lumen. He stays with a contact he met while working with you that knows someone named San. That’s where the idea of Lumen comes up. It seems like there’s a chance Vernon’s other members are there. And if Vernon has a chance to see them again, he has to take it. Even though he wants to see them all, he really hopes Seungcheol is there. If not for the leader, none of them would have been able to escape.

Vernon gets a last message to Chirron to let him know that he’s leaving in two days. Somewhere in the back of his brain, Vernon hopes that Chirron will share the message with you and maybe you’ll say goodbye. You don’t. Even though Vernon wants to be upset, and he is, he’s still thankful that Chirron helped in the first place. He knows that without that help, he wouldn’t be able to get on a ship to Lumen.

The journey itself is uneventful. Vernon’s spent enough time on your ship to be used to the travel, but he’s still worried initially that something will go wrong. It’s got him a bit on edge, to say the least. Until he realizes that this isn’t one of your jobs, this is just a regularly scheduled trip to Lumen that the ship was taking anyway. The only difference is one extra passenger. It’s not until they approach the planet’s atmosphere that he starts to get nervous again. The crew agreed that Lumen seems to be a sanctuary planet, and that’s great. It’s just, well Vernon hasn’t really considered what to do when they land.

The planet is beautiful, like what it seems like Earth looked like before, at least from pictures he’s seen. There’s so much life and color everywhere that immediately puts him at ease. He’s still skeptical, how could he not be? But there’s also a sense of immediate relief that washes over him. WIthout even realizing it, he thinks that this is home. At the dock, he inquires about a place to stay, hesitantly admits that he’s a level 1 automaton, and says he doesn’t have many credits to barter with. What he’s not prepared for is the smiles that form instantly. Someone tells him about a house that he might be interested in and gives him directions.

It’s not long before he’s approaching the large house, far bigger than he’s expecting it to be. This is definitely too much for him to stay in when he’s not sure how he’s going to afford anything. It’s then that he notices someone working in a garden, tending to plants. They look up and smile the second they see Vernon. He can’t quite hear what they say when they turn to look over their shoulder.

And that’s when Vernon’s entire world shifts. The very one he’d been hoping to see comes out from behind the house and erupts into a smile. They’re both moving towards each other, neither quite believing the sight before their eyes.

“Vernon?” he asks.

“Seungcheol,” Vernon says with so much affection for his leader.

“Welcome home,” Seungcheol says and hugs him.

Home. This can be home. Maybe it’ll all be okay. Maybe this is where Vernon was meant to end up all along and maybe working with you and Chirron had just been a stop along the way.

i'm sorry for leaving it open like that at the end, but it's kind of what felt the most realistic for them. i hope you enjoyed it and check out all the amazing fics 💕

#vernon x reader #vernon imagines #svthub #kvanity #vernon scenarios #vernon au #vernon angst #seventeen x reader #seventeen imagines #seventeen angst #vernon x you #sci fi au

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ovaryacted · 1 month

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I saw the messages I got sent in my inbox, thank you guys for letting me know about the plagiarism, I appreciate it really.

Obviously I feel for the OP and I truly do hope that they feel comforted in knowing that there are people who believe them. I genuinely can’t imagine what it’s like to have 20k words worth of something you made stolen like that. I’m heartbroken and angry for them and the fact that it happened twice is so…

At least on my end, I’m angry because Fae (@/kennedyswhore, @/hoeromi) is someone I interacted with frequently, and not only was she someone that inspired me artistically, but she was also someone I considered a friend. I’m just angry about it, and it pisses me off more that people who put so much energy and time into creating something gets stolen from them and gets claimed as someone else’s work with more viability. It’s sick. Please block those pages, she has a few other ones too she uses to stalk other accounts so be on the lookout for things that may be copied over too.

Don’t fucking steal from other people. Just don’t fucking do it seriously. It’s cruel, it’s awful, and you’re a low-life good for nothing bitch if you’re willing to sit down in front of your computer to copy and paste someone else’s work and call it your own. It’s things like that that only result in writers leaving this hellsite and stop posting their writing all together. Fuck you if you do this. If you lack the creative ability to make your own shit, at least live in your truth, cause doing stuff like this is just pathetic.

And of course, if anyone ever EVER finds something that sounds remotely like my stuff, either on here or on any ai chatbot spaces, please let me know. Writers and creators work so damn hard to put out original stuff others want to enjoy for free, so much energy into their work just to have it stolen from them. If you plagiarize, I hope you jump headfirst into fucking traffic.

#don’t plagiarize #don’t steal #don’t be a fucking loser #because eventually there will be no more writers for you to copy off of #you’re actually demented in the fucking head if you do this

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skania · 4 days

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OnK Chapter 149

I know it doesn’t mean much coming from me because I’m always complaining about Aka’s writing, but…

And I mean it when I say that I expect nothing 😭 This was literally my first ever OnK-related reblog and its tags are more relevant than ever lmao

These, too:

#honestly I didn’t think too hard about any of this during my first read #because the romantic endgame seems so obvious that it kind of discourages guessing lmao #but re-reading these chapters has made me appreciate Aqua’s side of his bond with Akane a lot more

Back when I first got into OnK, I mentioned that Akane was the entire reason I kept reading the manga. I didn’t care about the romantic subplot, found Aqua/Kana extremely obvious and predictable, and Aqua plain boring.

It’s only during my second read that I paid close attention to Akane’s interactions with Aqua and I ended up playing myself into both, caring about Aqua and shipping him with Akane lol

This chapter has made me realize that despite everything, I'm not emotionally invested in whether they end up together or not. I’d prefer it, obviously, because Aqua truly is at his most interesting whenever he’s around Akane, and their dynamic has the best development in the manga (so far).

But it’s just like I said before: If they don’t end up together, that’s just Aka’s loss, not mine. I’m just here for Akane 😂

And as an Akane fan, I feel like the best thing for me to do right now is to just take a step back and watch things unfold, because Aka will do whatever he wants regardless of how any of us interpret his manga lol

So instead of posting the long post I originally wrote about this chapter when the leaks came out, I'll just share a a clown gif because in hindsight it was silly of me to expect Kana out of all people to have any sort of meaningful insight into Aqua 🤡

And a couple of things that caught my eye because I can't help myself:

Kana didn't even see Aqua and Akane have any sort of meaningful moment, just those two standing in each other's vicinity was enough to make her throw herself a pity party. How many more times is she going to pity herself and give up? How has Aka not tired of writing her this way? Where did her development from the Scandal arc go? 🤡

So Chapter 147 featured Kamiki thinking Ai doesn't love him and Kana thinking Aqua likes her. It even had a helpful "Cut 139: Misunderstanding" panel and everything. Will this mean something? Who knows!

Kana used guilt-trip! It was super effective!

Oh the irony! Poor Akane looks like she's been hard at work convincing herself that she's over Aqua. And you know what? I cheer for her and respect her energy 100%. I'd rather see her doing her mightiest to help him without any ulterior motives than to have her crying for him and hoping to get back with him every other chapter lol

Akane calling Kana out for her pity-party and for being cowardly was so cathartic that if I didn't already stan her, I'd have become a fan right now 😭 It also means that Aka is 100% aware of the way he writes Kana, so when will she finally be allowed to grow?

Kana's praise to Akane made me so sad though because yes, Akane is pretty and she's talented and she's kind. That's sweet of her to say. But that's not what made Akane someone special to Aqua: it was the way she understood him. The worst part is that Kana ends her praise by saying that Akane is a "goody-two-shoes" but... that's the opposite of how Akane views herself. She sees herself as someone who's not decent and not normal. So it's no wonder that while she gets flustered (it's her dear kana-chan praising her), she seems to get a bit sad/frustrated afterward. After all, for Akane it's probably the opposite. Men would prefer a decent, normal, bright girl like Kana - Aqua included.

I wish someone would tell Akane that she is too ignorant of her own charms and that she doesn't have to act like an adult all the time. Truly the pot calling the kettle black! Sadly, unlike Kana, Akane seems to have no one in her corner in this manga. Aqua was the only one there and the poor guy is barely even a character anymore lol

Overprotective mother or controlling ex-girlfriend? Take your pick!

The English translation left something pretty important out in these panels. Akane doesn't just say "if you have a girlfriend", she says "if you have a precious/important girlfriend". This distinction is very important because it goes to show that... as expected, Akane doesn't think she was an important girlfriend to Aqua. It's like she didn't count and Kana would be the real deal. Oh, Akane...

Which takes me to her very silly, very convoluted yet very predictable plan (in true Aka fashion).

When Akane thinks “I know exactly what you hate”, I imagine she means that Aqua hates hurting and endangering those he cares for. So I'm guessing Akane thinks that if she plays matchmaker and quite literally throws Kana at him, someone he has a soft spot, then Aqua won't be able to go through with his revenge because that would mean breaking Kana's very fragile heart.

In other words, it looks like Akane is going to try and use Aqua's guilt-complex against him and her weapon of choice is love. But not her love, obviously, because as far as she's concerned, her romantic love already failed to save him.

Granted, using Kana's romantic feelings to her advantage is kind of... well, wrong. To quote Akane herself, [Kana] is neither her pet nor her property, but a person. But I'm guessing that Akane may be falling victim to the same loophole she got caught in in Chapters 96 - 98. She thinks she knows what's best, so she's putting her own beliefs aside for the time being.

Kind of like Aqua, actually.

And, ironically, it's Aqua himself who first realized how easy Kana is to use.

So! All in all, I'm here for Mastermind!Akane but I hope that Aka will actually make it worth our while. Will Kana realize that she's about to be used as a chess piece in this Proxy War? Who knows, characters in this manga seem to walk in circles, only being allowed to grow when it fits the plot 😂

Last week we wondered whether Aka would subvert expectations or go the predictable route, and down the predictable route he went. His way of making it less predictable is by including a twist in the form of Akane's ulterior motives, but will this be enough to allow this ol' used trope to lead us someplace new? I guess we'll have to keep reading to find out, but given the quality of the writing lately, I'm not expecting much lol

#my aquakane meta #except not quite #being constantly let down by aka is so bittersweet because there's a part of me that's like hahaha I knew it!#while another is just like: sigh why is he always like this #I thought my expectations were already ground level but I'll lower them a bit more just in case #just please let akane keep serving #that's all I ask for #and if someone can at some point in the manga actually #you know #help her #that would be pretty cool too #because she's basically carrying the entire plot on her shoulders right now yet no one offers her any kind of emotional support at all lmao

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 4 months

Note

to find: 🤖📚

AITA for writing a fanfiction with the help of Character AI?

For those who don’t know, Character AI (character.ai) is a site where anyone can make AI personalities of characters (original or existing) and train them for chats/roleplay/advice/etc.

When I first joined the site, I found that someone had made an AI of a character I liked. I have spent many hours roleplaying with this character and probably contributed a LOT to its training with my feedback.

Recently, I did a super long roleplay with it including other characters from the original media (played by me) and when it was over I really wanted to turn it into a fic. I chose all of the settings and situations, most of the actions, wrote all of the dialogue for several characters, and prompted dialogue I liked from the one AI character. When I finished polishing it and editing it to my liking, I published it to AO3.

I’m not a popular fanfiction author or anything, this was literally my second fic, and the first one was on another account. But because the fic was for a semi-small fandom, it kind of blew up and then people started getting mad when they noticed I mentioned I had written it with the help of AI, even after I explained exactly what I had done. They said I was contributing to the “theft” of other people’s work (even though, at least for me, writing is just taking bits from other works and reshaping and altering them to my own ideas) by using AI.

Personally, I don’t think I’m the asshole because I just used it to write one character’s dialogue that I edited anyway? And I wrote the rest of the fic completely by myself and played all the other characters. Not only that, but the whole plot, settings, interactions, etc. were all planned by me. But I also feel kind of bad because I guess this contributes to the AI art problem? I fed it my own writing and it probably took stuff from that and other places to base responses on. I don’t know.

I took the fic down for now, and I know this is kind of a silly issue, but I just wanted to see what the general opinion was. So, AITA?

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

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toebeanuwu · 11 months

Text

Caught in the spiders web

Miguel O'Hara X f!reader

Summary: He saw you on a mission in your universe and came back to research about you before going back and stealing you away. A new life that is unexpectedly headed your way.

word count: 3,800

Warning: Strong language, Forceful Oral, Receiving P in V (no protection), Obsession, Entrapment, Kidnapping, Stalking, BDSM.

MINORS DNI

This is my first time writing a fanfic, hope y'all enjoy my terrible writing. This is actually inspired from a character ai chat I was lucky to come across somehow with a yandere themed Miguel that just turned into whatever this is. For those of you who obsess over Oscar Issac too, there is a quote from one of his scrip reads in here that you can find video of, your welcome!

************************************************************************

Miguel ran to his computer and started to type quickly and desperately. Screens appeared and surrounded him that then began to flash pictures and videos of you and your life. He smiled as the yellow tint illuminated his face. He would stare longingly as he raised his hand to touch the screen. You were perfect. The screen shut off as his face that was once full of longing and joy, faded into one of pain and determination. But then his mind started to race. He didn’t care what he had to say or do, he wanted you and only you. He made sure that if he were to interact with you and steal you away, it wouldn’t create a tear in the multiverse like he did once before. His smile grew wide and sadistic, eyes glowing red as he left his platform and jumped into a portal to your universe waiting to make his move, to make you his...

You were walking in the streets late at night after your work shift ended. You were now going home and for that you had to walk along dark and scary alleys. While you walked a car pulled next to you. The car's glass was tinted black and as it rolled down, you could see a muscular man with brown eyes that almost seemed to glow red and brown hair looking at you with desperation. The sky roared as your eyes met.

"Get in, Princesa"

He said in a deep raspy voice.

You were confused and a little scared as you held your bag close to you. You were tired and didn’t feel like getting hollered at by some man, no matter how good looking he seemed. You glared at the man with sharp eyes and snapped at him with a cold tone.

“No way, I don’t even know you and I’m not a prostitute waiting to be picked up.”

You picked up the pace as you hurried in the same direction, almost turning into a run to get to your apartment. Panic, fear and adrenaline set in your body. You didn’t look back and hoped that the mysterious man got the picture.

He saw you begin to hurry away, and he got out of the car in a huff. His face annoyed. He ran towards you quick and swiftly that you didn’t even hear him coming. He caught you by your arm, then threw you and pinned you against the cold brick wall. You hit the wall with such hard force that your head was spinning.

He growled at you, and you could see that his eyes were indeed glowing red. As he spoke you saw fangs, it looked like they were so sharp that he could tear you to shreds easily. In a commanding and cold tone, he spoke.

"I'm going to ask you one last time, Princesa. Get in..the damn car. NOW!”

You froze as a shiver went down your spine and like that you obeyed him. You walked to the car as you held your arm, your body ached from the slam against the wall. As you sat in the passenger side of the car, the man walked over and slammed the door shut. He then made his way to the driver’s side and slid in and closed the door.

The car smelled of cologne and was neatly kept clean. As the man began to drive down the dark road, suddenly a giant portal appeared as it glowed brightly with red, yellow, and blue hues. You press yourself against the seat scared and confused about what was going on. The man continued driving into it and just like that, you were in another world as quickly as he drove through the portal.

This new world looked so strange and so futuristic. The city sky glowed beautifully from the lights that came from the tall buildings. Some cars floated off the ground and some up in the sky. A train caught your eye and you saw that it was going up into the sky, aimed for space. What kind of world was this? It was so advanced in technology compared to your world. The best things you could think that your world had to offer were VR sets and AI bots. But compared to this, those seemed like nothing, here they were Childs play.

After a few minutes of driving, he broke the silence, his voice was cold and deep.

“Now… we are going to play a game and have so much fun together. If you behave well, I will show myself nice. If you don't, not so nice. Do you understand me?”

You swallow hard as you nod in agreement, scared of what would happen if you disagreed. His lips curled up to a smile, he was so handsome, but his smile was twisted in a way that made your hairs stand. How could a man so handsome be so terrifying.

About 20 minutes later the man breaks the silence again, his smile becoming more sinister and twisted than before.

"By now, you probably have already guessed where we are going. But, where do you think I'm taking you?"

You grip your thighs hard and bite your lip as the fear continues to build and you speak, your throat almost feels dry from how on edge you are.

“I assume either your strange house or some cabin in the forest to kill me where there are no witnesses...if this place even has a forest.”

The man laughs in amusement.

“Oh, you are so funny. Still have a strong sense of humor within you despite the circumstance.”

You awkwardly laugh with him, and you know that the words you spoke held truth. Was he going to kill you? What did this man want with you? After a few more minutes you pull up to a large and gated house, your eyes widen at the sight. How could a man like this have and afford such a home? As the man drove up to his home, he pushed a button that opened the garage doors. He parks the car in the garage that was filled with many other cars you had never seen before. He walks around and opens your side of the door and speaks in a cheery voice.

“Well sadly it isn’t a cabin in the forest.”

He scoffs and laughs as you stare at him with widen eyes at his comment. He places a hand on your shoulder as he moves you forcefully to the door that leads into his home.

“Calm down, cariño. I was only kidding; I wouldn’t dream of hurting you... without good reason.”

His lips curled into a sinister smile as his eyes gazed at you, they were like daggers. You tried to keep your cool as he walked you around the house. As terrifying the man was, his home was amazing and beautiful you must admit. The kitchen was clean and filled with enough food for months. The living room smelled like sandalwood and was well kept with a stone fireplace right in center front. You break the silence after a while.

“Why... Why am I here? I don’t even know your name...? You don’t even know mine…or even know who I am matter of fact.”

The man smiled warmly, but there was still a coldness to him. He pressed a button on his watch that teleported you both to a large dark room that was lit up by floating digital screens that to your horror… were filled with pictures and videos of you living your life. Your heart sank to the pit of your stomach as your mind tried to grasp what was going on and what this all was. Beads of sweat began to form on your forehead. Before you could ask anything, his cold and sinister voice broke the silence again as it echoed in the room. You turned to face him, and his face was terrifying, his eyes were filled with a twisted obsession…for you...

“I know…everything about you {{Name}} … I love you… and you are going to be mine… forever…”

You take a step back and stumble to the ground, your eyes shake in fear. What the hell was this... and why you? Out of all people… why was it your luck to end up caught in this man’s twisted web. He kneeled to your eye level as he reached up and gripped your chin. You looked into his cold eyes and realized that there was no escape. This is where you will remain... forever. The man smiled at the scared look in your eyes, he relished every moment and every look on your face. You speak as he squishes your face between his thick and large fingers.

“You know my name… but I know nothing about you… do I at least get to know the name of my kidnapper…?”

He grins.

“When you put it that way, you make me sound crazy… but I guess you do deserve to know my name. Miguel… and for now that is all you need to know.”

Miguel presses his watch, and both of you are quickly teleported back to the living room where you were before. He reaches his hand out to you. He helps you up and lifts you up in his arms. He grins and kisses your forehead as that one swift motion takes you by surprise. His lips linger and as he pulls away, he grips you tightly and you can feel what seem to be claws dig into your skin. You flinch at the pain as he smiles maliciously as it brings him joy.

“Oh... how I love it when you make those faces.”

He begins to walk around a bit and then heads up the stairs still carrying you in his arms. He held you like you were the most valuable thing in the world. To him, you were.

“Now… you are going to follow some rules while you are here. This is your new home now of course. Rule 1: You will obey what I say and do as you are told. Break this rule and you will be punished.”

He reaches up and grips your face tightly with his right hand and turns your head to face him.

“So, if I say... lick my boot… you lick it. Got it? … Rule 2: You will talk to no other men besides me, understood? Rule 3: You will always do everything and anything to make me happy. You will make sure I get what I want. Rule 4: you are mine and only mine, you are my pet. Finally Rule 5: You never try to run away, if you do… well … you don’t want to find out.”

The fear continues to build in your eyes hearing the rules given. What kind of sick life was this? Clearly Miguel was obsessed and had some crazy ownership kink. After a while he led you down a long hallway with a single door at the end. He stopped in front of it as you turned to face him as he set you down. He pulled you close by the waist that made your heart skip for some odd reason. He held your chin up to face him as he towered over you with his massive height.

“Do you understand these conditions, {{Name}}?”

Your heart flutters a bit as you nod in agreement. What was happening? Your mind was spinning as he had some kind of hypnotic spell over you. At the same time, you were only going to do what he said and agree for the fact that you wanted to survive. You didn’t even have an idea of how to get back home. You were stuck. For what you knew so far, your old life was gone. At the same time, it didn’t bother you too much. You had a job that you hated and no family that wanted you. You really had nothing left to lose.

The rules repeat in your head, you believed in what he said and didn’t want to find out what would happen if you disobeyed or broke any of the rules. You knew these rules were true and were to be taken seriously. He grinned widely as he flashed his fangs.

“Good girl, Qué Buena. Now, let me show you the final room in the house where we are going to spend most of our lovely time together.“

He unlocked and opened the door and led you in. The room was full of lots of leather gear and sadomasochism like equipment that you knew people used for BDSM and other sexual fantasies. Chills ran down your spine as you realized what this room was for and what Miguel had planned for you. You had only seen and heard about rooms like these in movies and novels. You traced your fingers over almost every piece of equipment, trying to guess what each one did and was for. Miguel leaned against the doorway with his arms folded across his chest. A smile spread across his face, as he watched you explore the playroom.

His mouth began to water with excitement, desperate to do everything his mind dreamed of doing to you as you walked around the room. He imagined what it would be like to use every piece of equipment your hand grazed over on you. He soon felt pressure against his zipper as he grew hard from the thought alone. He whistled over to you as he stepped fully through the door, closing and locking it behind him. You turned to face him, and you could see the hunger in his eyes. Hunger, for you.

“Come here, muñeca”

He waves his finger, calling you over to him. You swallow hard, nervous of what is about to go down. You sweat and fiddle with your fingers.

“M..Miguel, can we not do this... I’m kind of- “

Miguel grabs a whip off the rack and smacks it against his leg as he glares, speaking in a dark and serious tone.

“Did we forget what Rule#1 was, {{Name}}? I said…come here.”

He sat on the end of the silk covered bed and leaned forward waiting for you to come over. His face was cold and serious. You swallowed hard and walked over to him quickly and quietly. Once you were in front of him, he grinned and he leaned back on the bed, whip still in hand.

“Strip for me.”

You hesitate for a moment, and he yells sharply.

“I SAID FUCKING STRIP!”

You jolt at the raise of his voice and tears begin to blur your vision as you slowly begin to undress. Miguel grins as he enjoys the view. You soon are left in just your bra and panties; you stop thinking that was all. He clicks his tongue as he smirks devilishly.

“Quítalo todo, mi amor”

You begin to shake nervously as you slip your panties off and toss them to the side. At this point, all your pride was gone. You reach behind yourself and unhook your bra, and like that your breasts are exposed to the cold air. You look up at Miguel, your face red with embarrassment and humiliation. You had never done something so suggestive in your life. Miguel’s grin grew as he licked his lips, looking you up and down.

“Good girl…. Now, get on your knees, honey.”

He pointed down in between his legs as he gave the command. You stepped forward and did as you were told, your heart pounding, your body cold. You looked at the floor as you knelt. The room soon began to echo with the clinking of Miguel undoing his belt. You look up in shock as he towers over you, and he pulls his zipper down with excitement.

“Now, now… Don’t look so shy, {{name}}. I’ll take good care of you, mi vida.”

Miguel then pulled his pants down slightly, just enough that his erect cock is now exposed, inches away from you. You could almost feel the heat from it radiate in your face. Your eyes widen in shock and your palms begin to grow sweaty. You had never done anything like this before, and deep down you were terrified. Miguel grins from the scared look on your face, not being able to wait any longer. He pulls your hair hard, and you groan from the sudden pain.

“Now, suck it, Princess.”

Without warning, Miguel pushes your head forward, forcing his cock deep in your mouth. You begin to whimper and choke. The vibration from your cries only makes him keep going harder. Miguel moans from the feeling of your mouth wrapped around him. After a few moments he yanks your hair forward and you gasp for air and cough, saliva dripping out your mouth as you do.

“What a lovely mouth you have, hermosa. Now let the fun begin.”

Miguel picks you up and lays you down on the bed as he begins to unbutton his tight white shirt and throws it to the ground. Miguel crawls onto the bed over you and reaches up and pulls down a rope with leather handcuffs. He clicks and locks them around your wrist, as he leans down to kiss your cheek. He whispers seductively in your ear.

“Now… Just relax hermosa…”

Miguel then moves back and reaches over to grab a loose rope on the other end of the bed. He yanks on it hard, and the cuffs pull at your locked wrists, hoisting you up. You groan from the pain as he slowly brings you up till you are on your knees again. You dangle from your wrists as Miguel ties the rope off on a hook connected to the bed. Miguel steps back off the bed as he chuckles, admiring his work as you dangle from your wrists.

“Tight enough for you, {{name}}?”

You look at him embarrassed as your heartbeat quickens, a lump forms in your throat as you try to speak.

“What kind of sick game is this...?”

Miguel walks over to a dresser and pulls out a flogger and a blindfold. He grins seductively as his eyes still hold the same lust and crazy obsession over you.

“You will soon see, mi vida. I promise you will grow to love it and me, as much as I love you, {{name}}.”

He makes his way back to you as he covers your eyes with the blindfold. You get a chill up your spine as soon as everything goes dark. The loss of your vision made your heart race, confused about why this brought you pleasure. After a few moments of silence, Miguel hits your bare ass with the flogger. You gasp as you thrush forward in the pain, the cuffs rattle as the pain begins to grow into a stinging sensation. Miguel growls behind you as he wraps his arms around you. He bites down on your neck as he grabs your breast, his other hand sliding down your stomach and in between your legs. You arch your body and moan as you feel your body begin to burn up. He slides his fingers between your folds, feeling how wet you have become.

Miguel lets go of your breast as he reaches up and grips your chin.

“Ay mi vida, I see you are growing to like this… just stay quiet for me, just like this. Let only your body and your breath communicate with me, understand?”

You nod in compliance as you bite your lip. Miguel slaps your ass hard, leaving a handprint. He reaches down and jerks on his throbbing cock as he looks at you. He grits his teeth as he slips himself between your legs, your wet cunt lubricating his rod. You shiver at the feeling of how close he was to you. Your mind was running at a hundred miles, how did you end up in such a situation in a single night? He grabbed the flogger and whipped your stomach, one of the strands gazed your breast and you jolt forward and groan from the pain.

“I hope this isn’t your first time my love…Because I’m not going to be gentle, I have waited too long to be patient with you.”

Miguel pulled at your hips as he entered you. Your body shivers as you groan from the pain as blood drips down your thigh. Miguel ignores this as it brings him more excitement, knowing that he was the first and the last to enjoy your once pure body. He gripped at your waist hard as his claws sunk in deep as he continued to fuck you hard. Each thrust rattled your cuffs, and it soon became less and less painful as your body adjusted to the new sensation. Miguel growled as his mouth salivated in pure bliss and pleasure.

“Que bien mi vida, soon your tight pussy will take shape of my cock and mine alone…forever.”

Your moans echoed and filled the room. They were like sweet music to his ears as it encouraged Miguel to go on harder and longer, wanting to hear more of your sweet song that was made just for him. Miguel soon pulled out and hooked your hips up to a harness, your full body dangling from the top beams of the bed. Miguel spread your folds open and began to lick and suck the sweet nectar your body was producing. Your body shivered at the feeling of his hot breath grazing your skin.

“Que rico eres, mi vida.”

Your face grows hotter as you bite your lip, your body twitching from overload. Your body twitching arouses Miguel further as he stands on the bed and grips your hips, entering you once more. This time he was able to get a better stance and fucks you even harder. It felt as if your body was going to break if he kept on going. You cry out in over excursion of pleasure and without your control, your pussy only gripped on harder, pulling him in for more.

“Yes… moan for me… just like that…let your cunt swallow me whole, hermosa.”

Miguel’s thrusts into you one last time as he fills you up with his load. You both moan as you finish together. As he pulls out, he watches his load drip out of you, wetting and staining the sheets with a light pink hue. Miguel kisses you rear and smacks it one last time as he huffs out of breath as he grins.

“Get use to this, mi vida. It only gets worse from here. Your mine now.”

And like that, your fate was sealed. You were his forever, his pet, his sex slave. He got what he finally wanted…you.

#spiderverse #spider man across the spiderverese #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel spiderman #miguel x reader #spiderman 2099 #miguel o hara #miguel o'hara smut #miguel o'hara x y/n #miguel o'hara fanfiction #bdsmkink #miguel o'hara fic

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justalonelyslytherin · 8 months

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Legacies | Thirteen

Previous Chapter | Masterlist | Next Chapter

Pairing: Jake ‘Hangman’ Seresin x Kazansky!OC

Summary: The evening of their return the dagger squad meets at the hard deck for a celebration worthy of the mission they just finished. Ana has the chance to come clear but not everyone is in agreement with her actions. Can Jake finally get a moment alone with Ana and will Ana give him the chance to talk?

Warnings: mentions of alcohol and drinking, mentions of parental death, grieving a parent's death

Wordcount: 7.6k

If you enjoyed reading this, please consider leaving a comment or reblogging. I don’t allow for my content to be copied, translated, or reposted on other websites/apps. I ALSO DO NOT GIVE PERMISSION FOR THE USE OF AI IN ANY OF MY WORKS! Please don’t steal my work.

A/N: After the longer-than-anticipated break that this story took, finally the next chapter is here. The reason for the long break was me writing my thesis - as of today it is handed in and to celebrate this is getting posted! Also congratulations to everyone who voted in the poll if this would be over 10 pages. You were right, the chapter measures 15 pages in my writing document! And because I had so much fun, I decided to have some more polls going, giving you a chance to interact and influence the story a little bit. You can find the current poll here.

Taglist: open, message me or comment to be added, will be put as reblog

Everything was different now.

Memories. Places. Her.

Ana looked at nothing with the same eyes anymore. The world around her was coated in a different light since her father had drawn his last breath.

Even stepping into the familiar bar felt like stepping into a different world. What had not long ago been a place where she felt at home, surrounded by happy memories was now a place that left an uneasy feeling in the pits of her stomach and conjured up painful recollections.

Every memory of her father hurt. The happy ones more so than the ones of his last moments or even the ones from his first round of treatment against the illness when it was still new. Now the joy of those moments was temporarily tainted with pain and grief. One that would never go away. It was the permanent kind, a loss never to be undone. With time it would get easier. It wouldn’t hurt less but she would learn to cope, to move on with it, with her life. But right now the pain was still as strong as the loss was fresh.

The bar was much fuller than three-ish weeks ago when she’d just arrived back in San Diego. There were patrons littering the bar and filling the many spaces inside. It was a strange sensation as if she’d somehow crossed into a parallel universe, the moment then repeating like a nightmare.

Booming music streamed out of one corner where the jukebox stood, the melody distinct even over the constant chatter of patrons. It wasn’t too busy yet, as Ana quickly spied Penny leaning with her elbows on the counter, talking calmly with none other than her godfather.

Maverick sat there at the bar on the opposite side of the counter, a half-finished beer in front of him, his fingers toyed with the edge of the glass. This time his phone was nowhere to be seen. At least he had learned from the last time. Maybe tonight Penny wouldn’t have him thrown out either. Now that things between them seemed to have come to a conclusion.

Ana was truly happy for her godfather. He’d deserved the happiness and the stability of a relationship. Penny was exactly what Maverick needed. Maybe now he’d have a chance at settling down.

Penny’s eyes, likely sensing her spying on the two of them, landed on Ana not a moment later, mouth pausing as her lips tucked into a smile. Ana wanted to return it but her lips failed to raise.

Now that they had noticed her though, she slowly walked up to the counter. Perhaps it was a good distraction first before she would venture further into the establishment to seek out her colleagues. In the pit of her stomach, an uneasiness had settled over the fact she had agreed to come.

It was inevitable for her to have to come clean, even though all of them already seemed to know her secret. There was a distinct difference between her assuming and actually knowing. Ana just hoped they wouldn’t outright confront her about it and instead leave her time to bring it up and more importantly explain it in her own ways.

Maverick turned around as Ana stepped up beside him. His eyes trailed over her body, they gave her a once-over before settling on her face. His features softened, there was a gentleness in them that she would have scoffed at any other moment. Usually, Ana hated to be coddled and taken to be this vulnerable, frail thing. Her godfather had always been incredibly good at seeing her as the little girl she’d once been, forgetting she’d matured into a young, strong, and self-sufficient woman years prior.

Right now the softness in Maverick’s eyes soothed Ana’s nervous turmoil. His arms wrapped around her, pulling her to his side. She slacked against him, leaning into his sturdy frame with a small sigh.

“Do you have a way home?” Maverick murmured against the side of her head into her hair and Ana nodded against his shoulder. She lingered in the hug, only tentatively pulling away to stand beside him. His arms dropped, one remaining loosely wrapped around her waist.

“Yeah, I got mom’s car.”

He hummed, “If you want to have a drink I can drive you home later on.”

“No it’s fine, I… I don’t want to drink much, if all.” Drinking her sorrow away was the last thing she wanted to do. A short, swift alleviation it would be, albeit the pain would come crashing back only tenfold afterward.

“Alright,” Mav nodded, glancing at Penny who had watched the two of them quietly. Ana looked over at the bar owner too, nodding at her.

“One drink?” Penny asked, not in any way trying to coax. She would never try to persuade her into drinking, Penny the least of all of them. Ana nodded, agreeing to one.

As Penny dove behind the bar to get the bottle of her favored brew, Maverick brought Ana’s attention back to him. He tucked at the back of her shirt, just like he had done when she was little to tease or rain her in.

“I’ll join you up later.”

“I bet they’ll like that. You know they will try to get you to buy a round or two.” Maverick grimaced at the thought, remembering the money he spent that first night in the bar. His grimace quickly turned into a sly grin and a short laugh and Ana knew that he had come up with something.

“There you go.” Penny reappeared with Ana’s bottle in tow, handing it over the bar to her.

“Thank you, Penny.” But the bar owner just smiled at her and shooed her off, head cocking behind her toward the back of the bar.

Two pairs of eyes trailed Ana’s retreating form, concern for the young woman shimmering in them.

“Do you think she’ll be alright?” Penny asked, turning her eyes towards Maverick. He had watched her grow up. There was scarcely anyone here who knew her better.

“I’m not sure,” he answered with a sigh. Doubt carried in his voice. If Ana felt even just a shred as lost as he still felt about the loss of Ice, he really couldn’t say. The hole that had been ripped open by the loss felt bottomless. Like a black hole it continuously tried to suck every bout of hope, of living out. What would be stronger in the end?

“He was everything to her.”

Ice had been everything to him as well. “I’m not sure if she’ll ever recover from this loss.”

Penny eyed him in heavy contemplation. Looking back at her, Mav recognized the thoughtful gaze and so he added, “There was always something special in their bond. Ice was close to every one of his children but I don’t think anyone can come close to the bond they had. It transcended everything.”

Swallowing Maverick glanced back at his beer, fingers restlessly fumbling with the glass from which he set on to take another gulp of. He wasn’t one to drown his sorrow in alcohol, not that he hadn’t come close to it when he lost Goose. It was Carole and then also Ice and Sarah that had kept him from developing another destructive habit. Even though Maverick mused – even now – that one more really couldn’t hurt more.

“I just hope she won’t be hurt any further,” Maverick spoke after a long breath of silence between them, once more looking up, this time glancing past the bar to the two crowded tables in the back.

Penny followed him, her eyes turning to rest on a certain blonde as she hummed. “There is hope.”

“You think so?” He was surprised by the determination carrying in Penny’s voice, a mix of a sigh and laughter leaving his lips. It was hard for him to believe, even if he had gotten close to each of the aviators in those three weeks. Perhaps not close enough. Penny rendered him silent with one disapproving look.

She ought to know them better than Maverick did, he realized. Working behind the bar Penny had likely watched some of them - maybe even all - go through Top Gun, spending many a night in this bar.

Maverick wasn’t wrong with this assumption. Penny knew Jake like no one else from the dagger squad did. Not even Coyote. The flirty, suave blonde was entirely different in the sole presence of her, quieter and more reserved, more vulnerable. She’d seen through him the moment he’d set foot in front of her bar counter that first time, trying to have his way with her by throwing one of those flirty one-liners at her.

She knew that deep down Jake was different from Hangman, who had tried to flirt with her that day. Those big words and that even bigger grin were a front to hide beneath a decent and sweet man who had been hurt, hit one too many times, and now too cautious to show his true emotions.

“He’s just as broken as all of us are.” Pictures of him after his kill resurfaced in her mind. Pictures of the broken man, forever separated from his colleagues, unable to process what had happened, unable to process his own guilt and nearly breaking beneath it.

Maverick hummed, quietly murmuring. Maybe they’d be able to heal together.

Ana’s heartbeat picked up as she walked around the bar in the middle of the room, eyes sweeping over the patrons in the back half of the establishment. Beside the jukebox in the far right corner and the pool tables straight forward, she couldn’t spy the others. Only when she looked to the left, where there were more tables and even a couple of booths could she spy a large group of civilian-dressed people that looked oh too familiar.

Not that it quelled her rapidly threshing heart. No, in actuality it made it even worse, a knot materializing in her throat. There was still time for Ana to turn around this instant and walk back out of the door.

This hesitation. This fear. Was entirely unknown to Ana. She wasn’t like that, she barely recognized herself. Had she not faced worse challenges? She’d learned to fly a jet, shoot ammunition, and throw bombs off with it. She had learned how to fight in combat, she’d deployed to active zones of conflict and risked her life in her service over and over. Why then did the thought of stepping up to her colleagues, her friends, frighten her so much more?

“Ghost, you came!”

At her side, Omaha appeared suddenly, hands full with bottles of beer as he smiled friendly at her. It startled her, the abrupt appearance of him. But just as quickly as he had appeared she recovered.

“Hi,” Ana murmured, focusing on the many beers precariously balanced in his hands. They were quite full.

“You already found the table?” He asked her and she nodded, motioning to pluck some of the beverages out of his hands. “Let me help.”

Omaha nodded and once they had evenly split the bottles she followed him to the table.

A chorus of happy shouts and other kinds of greetings awaited Ana. They were all clustered around two tables, shoved together and even then it seemed like quite the tight fit. The tables in the bar weren’t designed for such big groups.

Ana’s steps faltered when her eyes met a pair of electrifying green ones, turning around towards her. It was the first and only time she looked over at Hangman during her approach. Even if she had wanted to look at him again – which she didn’t – there would have been no way.

Rooster stood up the moment he saw her, moving to take the bottles of beer from her hands, and handing them out. Her own bottle remained in her hands as the mustached man motioned for her to take his seat.

There was one more empty seat, presumably Omaha’s, and even if it wouldn’t have been his, Ana would not have taken it. Fritz might have still been sitting between her and Hangman then, but Ana wasn’t quite comfortable with the thought of being so close to the blonde.

Earlier – at the hangar – had been a different story. An Exception. She’d been too caught up in her relief seeing everyone but especially Rooster and Maverick back alive and well. Hangman too. Her traitorous heart had leaped at the sight of him, soaring in happiness, the looming sword of uncertainty over her head had been sheathed at once.

And then reality had set back in.

Rooster grabbed another chair from an empty table, bringing it over and Ana took his previous one, in the middle between Phoenix and Halo. She was still closer to the blonde, who hadn’t looked away even once since his bright green eyes had snapped onto her. But now with Halo, Omaha, and Fritz, not to mention two tables, between them she felt a little more at ease.

“How long have you been here?”

Halo smiled at her, blindly grabbing over Omaha to grab his arm and draw it into her lap. She peered down at his wristwatch, eyes furrowing together in a way that had Ana wonder how much they already had to drink.

“Not long,” Halo determined soon after, letting go of her pilot’s arm.

“You haven’t missed anything if that’s what you are wondering,” Phoenix added, smiling at her. They surely hadn’t waited for her to arrive, had they? Curious, Ana wanted to know. The question however she was denied to ask, as Harvard cleared his throat pulling – almost – everyone’s attention toward him.

“We’re all here now. Time for a toast. To everyone coming back in one piece. To our team effort. To everyone gathered here today.”

“To a successful mission!” Fanboy added cheerfully, beer in hand that he raised high over his head. The others followed him, grabbing their beers if they hadn’t already and lifting them into the air. Ana fell behind a couple of seconds, her beer the last one to raise.

“Cheers!”

High-pitched clinks reverted off the touching glass where the bottlenecks were tapping together, mixing into the voices around Ana. One after another the bottles sank back, meeting their holder's lips. The beer was cold and fizzy against her lips, bubbles prickled against her lips and the roof of her mouth as Ana took her sip. Left behind was a fine sheen of foam, which she licked away.

All around her, the buzz of cheering had transformed into multiple, smaller conversations. She got caught up in listening to Phoenix, Rooster, and Payback chat, content to simply sit back, not having to talk herself. Ana had had to talk too much in the last couple of days.

Countless phone calls, thanking people for the flowers and condolence cards that even now kept pouring into their home. She held correspondence with her superiors, the people who had been her father’s colleagues and subordinates. They were planning on further honoring her father and his life's work in the Navy. Not only that but other people, journalists and others, kept inquiring too. It was exhausting.

As much as she focused on the conversation to her left, there was one thing – or rather one person – to her right, that made it almost impossible to listen attentively. She could feel Jake’s eyes on her, burning two distinct holes into her side. Even trying her best to look in the opposite direction, out of the corner of her eyes she noticed the blonde. He did a good job feigning to listen to Fritz and Coyote, throwing in little quips here and there but mostly Jake sat there, his knee bouncing up and down, bottle clasped in his hand tightly as he stared at Ana across the table. No way the others would grant him even a minute alone with her, yet all Jake wanted was a chance to talk to her.

“Yo Rooster, what do you think? You suppose the brass will give you a medal or a write-up for defying direct orders?” Omaha’s voice drowned out the other conversations around the table.

“Whatever it is, it’ll be a while until we’ll know. Wouldn’t surprise me if it’ll take forever ‘till they reviewed the mission considering the higher brass is in quite the disarray.”

And suddenly the group turned quiet, their eyes zeroing in on Ana. Uneasiness blanketed her. It was obvious why the brass was a little too out of order right now. Which was exactly the prompt they’d needed to remember just who was sitting with them.

“Sorry, I–”

Ana shook her head, “No, it’s alright.” Even if her voice didn’t sound as sure as she wanted it to appear. The moment of truth had arrived. Worry had consumed her, the uncertainty of her friend's and colleagues' stance on the big reveal plaguing her. Ana had never thought to believe any ill reaction of them prior to the funeral but then Jake had happened and the axis of her world had been tilted. Now she couldn’t be sure about anything pertaining to her name and identity anymore. She had become anxious as well as careful about it.

Words failed her, her mouth and lips suddenly drier than the sand of the Sahara desert. How did one break this news that technically they all already knew? How did one come clean without making it awkward? How could she state what everyone already knew without sounding insincere?

“You want to re-introduce yourself to us?” There was no malice in Phoenix's words. No scrutiny or judgment. Instead the dark-haired woman, the second closest friend Ana had in the squad after Rooster, looked at her with warmth and an encouraging openness.

Her words were a careful ask, a gently prodding prompt meant to ease her into a confession if Ana wished so. She was grateful for it, wanting nothing more but to come clean to her friends and colleagues and have the topic off the table so she didn’t have to worry about the unspoken, the unknown perhaps.

Having not known how to explain herself to them, Phoenix offered an easy starting point. But even then Ana felt choked, not by any expectations but once more by the reality that had plunged her life into darkness.

She tried to smile but it came out skittish and uneasy and so Ana quickly turned to nodding. They were all looking at her, more or minder directly, attentively but with a warmth that eased her into speaking.

“Yeah,” Ana mumbled, clearing her throat as she shifted in her seat. “I think it’s long overdue now. I never meant to lead any of you astray and I certainly didn’t hide this out of maliciousness. It just..,” she trailed off, leaving the end unfinished.

There had been no good time to spring it upon them, no moment in which she could have uttered an ‘Oh by the way guys, I’m actually Admiral Kazansky’s daughter’. Anyways.

“Uhm, it’s Ana–” her voice wobbled, threatening to give out. No amount of preparation could make it any easier. Ana was forced to take a rattling, shallow breath to keep the tears at bay.

“Ana Kazansky.”

The words barely left her lips without a stutter but once they’d finally been uttered a weight dropped off her shoulders. It felt freeing.

Everyone was looking at her with compassion and sympathy, every eye she met showed nothing but understanding. As she looked over at Phoenix, the one to ask in the first place, the woman opened her arms in a silent invitation. Ana gladly took the offer for a hug, needing it more than anything else, second most perhaps something stronger than beer.

Bob’s arms slung around her from behind, sandwiching Ana between the flight duo. Melting into the embrace, some of the weight she’d been carrying for so long lifted off her shoulders. Ever since her father had died, she had gotten into conflict with her own decision, feeling that the choice she’d made so long ago didn’t fit the her of today anymore.

The first step was made and for the rest of them here were the days going forward. But tonight, nothing of that mattered anymore, at least not for the moment. Gradually Ana calmed down enough for her breath to become steady and her tears to dry.

Bradley's hands clasped her shoulders after the hug, nodding at her with a lopsided smile. It was his way of saying ‘Good job kiddo’.

“But Ana is your actual first name right?” Payback asked jokingly, beer in his hand as he grinned over at Ana. His attempt at lightening up the mood once more was successful as Ana chortled.

“Yeah, it is.” Thinking for a moment, the hint of a smile tugged at her lips, “Although it’s not my full name and you guys have been butchering it.” The latter part – of course – wasn’t meant seriously and was more to egg them on.

Fanboy left out a surprised “Eh?” but it was Yale who leaned forward on his elbows and asked smiling, “Care to share?”

“It’s Ana Theodora Kazansky.”

“Can you repeat that?” Fritz asked her, “The way you said that.”

“Ah-na, it’s uh–”

“–a Russian name,” Bradley butted in, sounding playfully annoyed as he nursed his beer.

“Well, you sound like you’ve heard that one too many times,” Harvard nudged him with his elbow.

“If you only knew,” Bradley scoffed just as teasingly. “Been getting corrected on that all my life by the entire family.”

“And yet you still can’t seem to do it right.” To everyone’s surprise, Ana butted in, snarky and in the most outgoing, carefree way she had been since the funeral. The closest to the old Ana she’d been displaying ever since.

It didn’t last long, her mood quickly dampened by the scoff Coyote let out. Suddenly all eyes were on him. “Everything alright pal?” Payback asked.

“I think it’s just a little hypocritical don’t you think?” Coyote's eyes zeroed in on her, narrowing in a frown that had Ana’s stomach drop. “So much for comradery.”

“Yo dude, come on, that was obviously a joke,” Omaha frowned beside him while Ana just stared, the ground ripped from beneath her feet.

“No. You are just as hypocritical. She gets a free pass for her actions while she’s allowed to give others shit for theirs?”

Oh. So that’s what that was about. She’d almost forgotten how she’d laid into Hangman. Of course, as his best friend Coyote was going to be on his side. Ana simply hadn’t thought it was that much of a problem, since it had been between Hangman and her and the moment had been heated.

All around the table voices erupted but the words were reduced to mere noise in the back of her mind. It shouldn’t surprise Ana, until the moment she sat down at the table she’d anticipated – feared – everyone would react like Coyote had. Still, him reacting like that had sent her spiraling nonetheless.

“Enough!” Silence settled over them. Ana glanced up in surprise at Hangman, who had broken the discussion. Briefly, their gazes met across the table before he glanced away, looking around at all of them but mostly at Coyote.

“I appreciate the sentiment ‘yote but shut up. No reason to attack her like that, she did nothin’ wrong. You and I will never know what it’s like but we may try to understand it.” Her heart fluttered, only a fraction from the Texan drawl bleeding into his voice and mostly the serious, defending way with which he said it. He was defending her?

“Understand what? That she gets a free pass?”

“What’s it like to be a family legacy, what’s it like when everyone knows who you are and there are impossible expectations on you from the moment you are born because of your name. You and I can't imagine what it’s like to have everyone either look down on you for who you are or put you on an impossible-to-achieve pedestal. What it’s like when everyone thinks you haven’t worked hard enough to earn something even if you did your damn hardest to earn it.

I couldn’t imagine what it’s like to be reduced to my last name and for people to not see me for who I am but for my parents' son.

Everyone around his table has had to work their hardest to get where we are now but there is no question that some of us had it harder than others,” Jake made the briefest glance toward Phoenix, Halo, and lastly Ana. “You’d do well to remember that, perhaps asking and listening in on their hardships would help you not look as stupid as you are right now. ”

“And lastly it’s none of our damn business if she decided to keep her private information private. Or do you go around sharing your lineage and heritage with everyone?

No one’s getting a free pass here.”

Ana was left speechless. Jake jumping to her rescue surprised her a lot, even more so at how reflective and open he was. While it was clear that the others had caught some part of what happened at the funeral, she was sure they weren’t in on it all.

Most likely Rooster had told them the gist of it, otherwise, they wouldn’t have jumped between Jake and her at the Hangar. But there was no way Rooster would dish out the entire story when it wasn’t his to tell.

She had no idea what had gone down after the funeral or during the mission, but something had happened. At least something had changed in Jake. That being sad she wasn’t sure if she was ready to deal with it all, no less ready for it than she had been at the hangar earlier that day. Just because he came to her defense now didn’t mean Jake understood all of it or could see his faults.

While Ana deep down longed for nothing more than resolution, a big part – and the loudest of it all by far – still wasn’t ready for confrontation. Her mood was soured and once more the walls seemed to come down all around her. Her breath hitched, the tension around the table suddenly too much for her. Grabbing her bottle, her chair screeched loudly against the floor.

“I’m going to get a refill,” she muttered, squeezing past Bradley, who had taken a seat narrowly behind her and Phoenix.

Much later that same evening Ana found herself outside on the back patio, where the air was crisp, the sky dark and the world a little quieter.

Lonelier.

Ever since Coyote’s more than snide comments, the atmosphere had been off, the mood tainted with those burdensome words. Ana didn’t want to dampen the fun of the others, doubts of coming in the first place rampaged wildly inside her. She’d tried to put on a brave face, to smile through it and drink a little more. To loosen up.

Ultimately however she felt like a pretender. Never wanting to be one ever again - even with her brave face - she’d opted to go back to Penny. But Penny had been busy, the later the night the more patrons to serve.

With Maverick joining the lively group Ana briefly had been able to relax, to forget a bit for a while. Only for the time being until her gaze crossed Coyote’s at the table again. Then she was back to square one.

And so, at some point and entirely unnoticed, she’d gone off on her own, to find some quiet and solitude out here. Her forearms braced against the railing, both hands wrapped around her bottle of beer, she stared out at the waves, barely discernible in the dim light of the night.

Emotions bubbled under the surface, beneath the carefully maintained mask. Cracks had formed along its smooth form, crumbling the more time passed. Ana had truly thought she’d be able to stomach an evening away already, to throw herself back into the routine outings.

“I tried to,” she whispered into the quiet, voice lost in between the sways of the faraway waves and the summer breeze caressing her hair. “I’m trying so hard to be strong, Dad.” Her lips trembled, voice turning wobbly and weak.

“It’s just so damn hard,” she whimpered, closer to a sob, closer to breaking down.

This horrid wave of pain became laced with anger and that familiar bout of resentment cooking up inside her. How weak was she that she couldn’t even manage one evening? One silly night? Angry tears burned Ana’s eyes, her stubborn refusal all that held them back from spilling. Her nails scratched against the bottle's smooth glass, catching the edges of the label, fingers tightening their hold.

Nearly swallowed in this silent fight with herself, Ana could have – would have – missed the backdoor swinging open if not for that one old hinge at the bottom creaking under heavy strain.

Startled out of her pain and self-misery she hastily wiped over her face as discreetly as possible before she glanced back. It was those green eyes she noticed first – and perhaps only – in the dawn, causing her to straighten her back, carefully guarding herself. Ana swallowed, curiously just as hesitantly eyeing the blonde, waiting for him to move. It took Jake a long breath to close the door behind him, the hinge screeching a second time before he took a step forward but not yet coming toward her.

All throughout the evening, Ana had watched him out of the corner of her eye trying to get close. Only for one of the many daggers – she’d been told that’s how Hondo had dubbed the bunch, promptly turning into their unofficial name – to block him off. Be it changing his seat to one closer to her or being able to address her. Not even looks they had outright permitted, one of them conventionally and just coincidentally shifting so they couldn’t cross eyes. Not that he had tried still, stolen glances slipping past the vigilant guards, which Ana noticed.

Jake had been progressively growing more frustrated until some time ago when he had left the group table to stalk off to who knows where to do who knows what.

Now he stood here, watching her as the light from inside the hard deck illuminated his back. She might have stood in the dark but the little light filtering out toward her was enough for him to notice the motion of her hands.

Two hearts rapidly beat on the opposing sides of the deck. Jake hesitated. Just then he had been so determined to approach her, to finally get a moment alone with her. Now he wasn’t so sure if he still should. If he wouldn’t do more harm than what he was trying to repair.

He couldn’t move, stuck in his spot, in this position. Torn between stepping forward and leaving again. Torn between his want, his need, to mend a situation – possibly unfixable – and going to preserve an already thin enough tolerance or to admit defeat.

Failing to move in what could have been merely heartbeats but also minutes Ana turned away, facing the beach again, her back now turned to him. While this gesture might have been a sign for anyone else to leave, for Jake it was the permission to approach, albeit slowly and carefully.

Once more Ana found herself staring into the dark, the waves ominously glistening in the distance, no different from the waves of emotions crashing in her stomach, their sounds sweeping up the dunes toward them. But now their sound was mixed with Jake’s boots, with the slow yet sturdy steps as he drew closer.

The railing creaked under his forearms as he leaned against the barrier not far away from her. Some might even call it beside her. There were but a few feet dividing them. Quiet was the chosen ambience, at least for a while in which they dwelled on their thoughts, each one stuck in their own complicated world of mind.

There came a point when the silence became too much for Ana, too glaring, too grading on her nerves. Looking over at him at first was a quick glance, then another one until not long after she turned her head entirely to him, watching with careful eyes. In the dark, she thought to notice a reddish tinge to his tan skin, almost unintelligible.

“Are you drunk?” She asked, quietly, words carrying an accusing sting with them.

“No,” he answered, adding a few contemplative moments later, “Maybe a little.”

Her instinct to flee his proximity kicked in, no longer able to bear the pain still residing inside of her, to tolerate this silent existence between them. The jerky, jittery movement, not quite a stumble but also nowhere near graceful had Jake now eyeing her intently.

Against all her instincts his gaze held her there, gluing her to the spot like no one had ever been able to do before.

“Listen, I–” As fast as her instincts had been blanketed by his gaze, his words brought the innate need for her to leave right back.

“–Don’t! I don’t want to hear…” And with the sensation came another wave of bite to defend, to guard herself. Ana had learned her lesson at the funeral and she wouldn’t be a fool once more.

But she wouldn’t let him out of her eyes either, at least not for the first careful steps backward, her hand skirting along the edge of the railing until finally, in one swift motion, she whirled around and bolted down the steps.

“No, Ana, that’s not– Damn it!”

It was all she could hear before the rush of blood replaced any other noise. Ana’s heart hammered in her chest, the sudden bout of adrenaline taking her by surprise. She stumbled in the sand, wondering what she was even doing.

To no surprise it didn’t take long for her to crumble once more, adrenaline replaced by all the pain she’d shoved to the back in favor of guarding herself against the blonde. With him no longer around everything swept back. Like a tsunami, it now came crashing over her. A sob broke out from between her lips, knees buckling as she squatted down in the sand, forehead resting against her knees.

“Shit,” she whined, hands shaking as she tried to keep her balance, just like her emotions the world wanted to tilt around her, spinning out of control.

Muffled steps on sand hit her ears but there came no second wave of flight, no instincts to tell her to flee. She was too tired, too in pain from it all. What difference would more of it even make?

“Coyote had no right to say that to you,” Jake blurted, huffing as he reached her. He’d feared she’d just up and bolt again, not sure if catching her a second time was something he could do. Exhaustion; his lack of sleep during the mission on the carrier and now the added stroke of the alcohol coursing through his veins were catching up on him, heavily.

“And it’s my fault he said something in the first place. He’s protective of me like the others are of you, which doesn’t make it okay. I…I don’t know why he thought to say that, to do that in front of everyone–not that in private it would have been any more acceptable.”

With a sigh, Jake dragged his hand over his face. Ana had the most unusual reaction to this. She chuckled, shaking her head in a moment of displaced amusement, a laugh bubbling deep in her chest, barely held back.

“What– What’s so funny ‘bout that?” Jake puffed out in confusion, slowly blinking through the foggy tendrils of alcohol wanting to cloud his mind. He wasn’t that inebriated was he?

“You defended me,” she muttered, rising to her feet. Her eyes, landing point blank on Jake, were the brightest damn thing in this solemn night. But they weren’t as bright as they had been that night in the Hard Deck three weeks ago. Dimmed unmistakably now. Jake hated himself, knowing he was a part of the reason her flame had lost its spark.

“You defended me.”

He should have been insulted at the way she made it sound like it was the least possible thing that could happen, but he couldn’t. Not after what he had done to her. He deserved it. Deserved all of her mistrust.

“Even I can admit when I’m at fault.”

“You can? What changed?” There it was, the anger he had been expecting to surface back at the hangar already. She’d spared him then but now he was ready to take whatever she would hurl at him.

Shrugging he looked down at his feet, “I learned some new things. Things that gave me a new perspective.”

“For example?”

Sucking in his breath, Jake glanced upward. There she stood, in all her hostile, defensive glory. The waning crescent moon illuminated her from behind, the soft dim of it gave her an otherworldly glow. She looked like his best dream yet where he stood felt closer to his worst nightmare.

It took him off-guard that question of hers. Even though he had been the one to bring it up, he realized now how unprepared he truly was for her to ask. Gathering his witts usually came as easy as breathing. Not now. Trying to find his way to the start of his story was harder than Jake anticipated. Especially when the alcohol in his system chose now to ensnare his mind further.

Jake’s eyes lost their focus, skidding to the path of sand behind her leading to the tip of the beach where the waves came in from the vast open of the ocean. Their rhythmic movements had something almost calming.

Almost.

Beside his body Jake’s fingers started to twitch in wanton, one movement kickstarting the cascade of nervous notions that were entirely his own. His foot began tapping the sand beneath his sole in an erratic, uncontrolled cluster of muffled thumps.

The motion sent a flashback through his mind as much as it did little vibrations through the loose ground. One involving the very woman before him, a pen, and a sharp pain as said pen had been rammed into his thigh not long ago.

“That I’m more of a fraud than you could ever be,” he shrugged once more, shoving his hands into his pockets as he kicked at the sand beneath his feet. His words caught her off guard, abruptly halting her in her growing anger, stealing the roll she was building towards.

“What?” Her words were quiet, nearly lost over the waves, that suddenly sounded so much louder. And this time it was Jake who nearly laughed in surprise. Even when he had hurt her so badly and she had all the reason to hate his guts, she found it in herself to listen to him and perhaps even to muster some sympathy for him. He truly didn’t deserve it.

“I had to talk to someone, so I called my mother. She gave me an earful…” His hand flashed in her attention as he produced something from the pocket of his pants. Ana couldn’t tell what it was at first, his fingers nimbly spinning it between them. “She’d have flown here to whoop my ass no question if we didn’t ship out a couple of days later. She, uhh, put some things into perspective for me..”

Ana watched him now, attentive and with a poorly concealed hint of curiosity for which she would have liked to kick herself in the ass. She cursed him for having such an impact on her. Cursed herself more that even now she couldn’t resist this natural pull. Cursed her traitorous heart for beating faster, stronger.

How could it not when Jake was opening himself up to her? It reminded her of him showing up in her room with hot chocolate and snacks. When she had glimpsed the real Jake beneath the mask he made everyone believe was him.

One more thing sparked her memory. That little pick of wood between his fingers, flashing briefly in the moonlit space between them. Cursed be the toothpick, the little annoying thing that sent a shiver down her spine. He’d had it that morning in the hangar too, annoying her to no end.

Then she’d accounted it as a tool of superiority, for him to tease and show off. Was it true or had her own subjectivity turned it into it? Had it perhaps been nothing but his way of managing his nerves?

“From the first time I can remember I was always obsessed with planes. There was nothing more fascinating for me than those huge feasts of engineering. These beautiful man-made birds of steel, giving a mere human the ability to conquer and explore the skies.

Growin’ up my father always put it before me that I was to inherit the family business one day, continue and grow it. Like he had done and his father and his father’s father before them.”

His hand reached upwards, one pointy end rubbing along the flush of his bottom lip. How ironic that little thing was now when he was about to mention him. “It was my grandfather who showed me that my dream could become my reality. That my future was my choice. My mother’s family always lived far away from us and looking back on it now I realize why she kept us away so much from them.

Nonetheless, my grandfather became my hero. My role model from the moment I met him and found out he’d not only been in the Navy his whole life but been no less than an aviator.

To a twelve-year-old obsessed with everything aviation, he became the coolest person on earth. Even more so when afterward I found out he was highly decorated and considered a hero.”

Quietening down Ana almost missed his next words, “Guess I never realized how much of a hero he was considered until now. Or how much influence he earned through that.”

In a brief moment, Jake’s mask slipped, revealing the conflict warring inside of him. It was gone as quickly as it had, the iron mask back stronger.

“You see I always thought what got me into the academy was my hard work alone. And I was damn proud of it since it's no easy feat. I always thought everything can be done if you just put in enough effort and don’t quit.”

“Can’t stand quitters ya now? Those who give up because it’s too hard or those who let the difficulty and fear stop them from even trying, who can’t seem to put in the effort it would take to reach the end. I was full of prejudice, thinking that all legacy children always got in easily and without working for it.”

“Like me.” Hesitantly he glanced over at her, a cautious and nearly hidden look before his eyes drifted once more toward the ground where his feet shuffled around the sand. Rather harshly he cleared his throat, shaking off the lump in it and rushing to babble on.

“My mother used the ample opportunity to give me not only a lecture but also a lesson in what it was like to grow up for her. And I know I can’t compare that, likely yours and her experience won’t have many similarities but it..,” once more a heavy sigh cleaved his lips as Jake found himself lost for words. His hands tightened into fists, the toothpick between his fingers creaked under the strain, slowly bending until it snapped. The two broken pieces slipped beneath his fist, landing in the sand.

“She, uhm–,” he cleared his throat, “–she told me what it was like for her to grow up as the daughter of a navy hero. As a legacy child herself, even if she never wished to pursue the same career path.” A sad smile broke upon his lips, weakly twisting the corners of his mouth upwards. Ultimately the heaviness of his guilt brought them down again.

“My view on it all has been altered.”

There was no time to ponder about his words or what had been revealed with them, as Jake left no pause. He shrugged once more, hands shoved back into his pants as he spoke on, “I can’t let it slide when something untrue or incorrect is said. As you might have noticed I’m more blunt. Pretty sure everyone else thinks I’m just a mouthy asshole, who says what he thinks without regarding other people’s feelings.”

A rush of guilt swept through the hightide of her wavering emotions, like a little boat out in rough sea. She’d thought just the same. The more Ana learned of him, the stronger she felt that there was so much more to Jake. So much more behind those acts he put up and the brash way he spoke with others. And here she was, getting to see another part of him unraveled, another piece put into the puzzle that was understanding him.

“Don’t like to hide things. There is no point in sugarcoating things.” For a moment it looked like he wanted to say more, to add something. He looked over at her, their eyes met once more through the night and something glimmered in Jake’s eyes—a brief shine of something Ana couldn’t name or even describe.

And then he left. Simply turned around, walking back the way he had come to follow her. A couple steps away he turned around once more, “I won’t bother you any longer as you clearly wanted to have your peace in the first place. Apologies for disrupting.”

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