#father!swansea x reader

[wandering-pirate]

How does a moon lose its glow?

Summary: Swansea always thought he was looking out for you, but now? Now that he learned what happened, something he could’ve stopped, what would the mechanic do?

Pairings: Father figure! Swansea x reader

a/n: Hey, everyone! Just a quick note before you proceed.

Trigger warning: angst, sexual abuse, violence against women and trauma from said experiences. There are no explicit contents, however, the trauma of a victim is detailed in the story. As always, take care of yourselves while reading <3

a/n: shoutout to @kobiisworld for requesting this!! ask box is open for requests!

1 day before the crash

Swansea's forehead never lost its wrinkles this week. The old man's face was always lined like he was constantly carrying the weight of the world, but now they were deeper.

The mechanic always knew you as the one to break the silence, the one who kept things light, always making the long stretches across space feel less like a prison and more like a field trip. The moon in Tulpar's darkness.

"Come on, geezer," you grinned, pointing to the a steel chain that’s almost comical in size compared to his rough, calloused hands. "You’ve been fixing engines before I was born, but is that lil thing too much for you?"

He may never outright say it, but you were like a daughter to him. But recently, you changed, and he could see it in the way you didn’t even try to lift the mood anymore.

No more jokes with Daisuke, no more corny comments that always made the captain groan, no more gossips with Anya, and no lighthearted banter with Swansea. Instead, there was just… emptiness. The mechanic didn't know how a moon would lose its glow, but somehow, you did.

You became a stranger. A shell. He could see it in the way your hands uncontrollably shook, in the distant look in your eyes. It scared him more than he wanted to admit. But he was never one to poke around on someone else's business. No, always kept his nose to himself.

Now, you were hunched over the inventory of the utility room, checking quantity when Swansea entered. You jumped at the hissing sound of the entrance, your breath catching in your throat.

"Ya alright, kid?" He did his best to keep his tone gentle, as gentle as a Swansea could be.

“Yeah… yeah, just thought…” You stammered, your voice faltering as you quickly steadied yourself and forced a smile, one that didn’t quite reach your eyes. “What’re you doing here, old man?”

The snark was there, something Swansea didn’t notice he missed until it was gone. But it wasn't the same, it was like you were trying too hard to keep it up. Something you said, however, caught his attention.

“What?”

“Wh-what do you mean, ‘what’?” You laughed nervously.

“You thought what?” Swansea pressed, his brows furrowing and meaty hands placed on his hips.

“Nothing...”

“Yeah, right,” he scoffed, though he wasn’t supposed to poke around. Still, he had his suspicions: something was off. He needed to get it out of you. “‘Fraid I’m an alien out for blood, eh?”

Your eyes met, and he felt his heart squeeze. Your pleading look, the watery gloss in your eyes that signaled him of unshed tears, asking him something, begging. Your voice caught in your throat as you opened your mouth to speak. “I- Swansea, pleas--”

"Hey Swansea, Cap's lookin' for you." Suddenly, panic flashed back into you, and the mechanic could see that the man who entered just triggered the same fear from before. You quickly turned away, clutching the clipboard to your chest. "ASAP."

The old man eyed the co-pilot, wondering what the hell Curly needed so badly that he had to send his greasy bud over, normally the captain summoned Swansea himself. And what the hell was that reaction from you? "Heard ya the first time. Y/N! C'mon, grab your stuff, I need help.”

"Curly just needs yo-"

"He needs me, but I need me some help. If you've got a tantrum with that, speak up now." Swansea’s blood was boiling at the way Jimmy was eyeing you carefully, but the co-pilot's pressed in a thin line. "Nothin’ to say? Alright, we’re outta here."

The mechanic stomped off the room with you very quick and close behind him. Something was wrong. Very wrong.

On the way to the cockpit, you both met Daisuke with a suspiciously bulging Hawaiian shirt. The old man sighed; he swears the kid's going to get diabetes before Swansea would with his sweetener addiction. "Daisuke, bring Y/N to the kitchen and give her water. Don’t go to utility ‘til then."

"You got it boss!" The intern saluted, causing the sweetener to fall off his previous clutch while his poor attempt to catch it. For the first time in a while, Swansea saw you smile. Small, but still, a smile. "Come this way, m'lady."

The mechanic watched both of you retreat, and didn't even notice how his tense shoulders relaxed, at least you're safe… for now.

0 days before the crash

Your glossy eyes and desperate tone bugged the old man so much that his once unbothered and easy sleep was now avoiding him like a plague. You were about to say something before the roach entered. Swansea rubbed his face, frustrated.

You reminded him of his youngest daughter, back when she was your age: bouncy, full of life, and always full of questions. You were the same, so cheery, like the world had no weight and oxygen was your power source, keeping you charged up every day. Glowing that damn light of yours, infecting others with joy, even a gruff old man like him.

Swansea could only watch, helpless, as you slipped away.

The man stood up from his bed, he never realized how Daisuke's snores filled the whole quarters up. He trudged to the lounge area and he was surprised to see you, not to lounge, but quite the opposite.

Curled up on the floor, your knees pulled to your chest, rocking back and forth as you mumbled something to yourself. His brow furrowed in confusion, but what really caught him was how you were pressed against the LED wall, facing every possible exit, like you were preparing for something - anything - that might come.

The closer he got, the more he saw the tremors running through your body. His heart dropped, you were clutching a knife.

"Kid, you okay?" He winced, mentally scolding himself, you clearly weren't and even have a damn knife in your hand. Your head snapped to him. Uncertain of where to point the knife, you placed it between you. "Easy, alright, it's just me. Swansea, just me."

He looked at you, your face streaked with tears, sweat, and snot, everything a tangled mess, leaving your skin pale and raw. It was worse than the knife. You slowly lowered your hand, but the tears came faster now. Scrubbing at your already irritated face with your woolen sleeve, a large hand gently stopped you.

You flinched away from him, crawling backwards. Stumbling as if his touch was burning and it scalded your skin and dropping the knife. "Please, no, no-- don't hurt me-- please, please."

There you were at the corner, hands pushing down the sides of your head. Figure rocking back and forth, mumbling no's and stop’s, begging. And there he was, kneeling from where you once were, shocked, speechless and mortified at your state.

Something in his chest slowly bubbled, a steady warmth turned to a hot white rage. "Who did this to you?"

You were still a mumbling, sobbing mess, the LED moon shining its unforgiving brightness down on your pathetic frame. "I-I don't want to do this anymor-- i--"

His mind raced, piecing it together, the way you flinched when he opened the door, how you panicked at the sound of the co-pilot’s voice, how you avoided Jimmy. And then it hit him: the shift in Jimmy’s mood the same week you started pulling away. "That fucking bastard."

Swansea always harbored a deep-rooted belief: anyone who dared touch those he cared about, especially his young ones, deserved no mercy. It wasn’t just a philosophy; it was a vendetta shaped by a wound that never truly healed.

That wound reopened every time he thought of his Camie, his youngest, the one you reminded him of. She came home from college one winter, and something was... off. Her usual spark was gone. She barely spoke, quiet as a hill buried in snow. He didn’t press, thinking she just needed time.

But Christmas came, and out of nowhere, she broke down. Sobbing. Right there, in front of the whole family, on what was supposed to be a day of glee. Just like that, the holiday wasn’t about joy anymore. It was about pain. Hers. His. Everyone’s.

And it crushed him. He couldn’t stop blaming himself, for not being there when she needed him. He thought he paid up for it, sending her ex to the ICU for two weeks, but the pain his daughter went through will never be removed.

Years later, that same guilt came roaring back. This time louder, harder. He saw the same signs and once again, he regretted not pressing. He felt like he failed to protect his daughter all over again.

The mechanic didn't realize he left you, he didn't notice where he was heading. As if moving on autopilot, Swansea was now looking down on his barreling feet. He didn't even remember how the axe ended in his hands. But he knew one thing, the men's sleeping quarter was just around the corner.

Rounding up, he bumped into Curly, now standing straight and alert after meeting an axe-wielding Swansea, face full of murder. "What th-- What are you doing with an axe in the middle of the night?"

"Get outta way, let me see that piece of shit"

"Woah, woah, woah," The captain had his hands up, stopping the older man from proceeding any further. "Let's talk this out alright, just slo--"

"Jimmy! Come out you son of a bitch!"

That probably woke the whole ship up, but that was the least of his concerns. He's out for the co-pilot's head and not even his captain could stop him.

"Who the fuck's shouting this late!?"

"Ah, there you are." As soon as Jimmy stepped out of the quarters, the older man lunged at him, but Curly grabbed him just in time. Swansea cursed under his breath. "Come here and let me put your head on a chopping block, you mutt."

Footsteps shuffled in the dim hallway as Anya and Daisuke appeared, both disheveled. "Boss?" The intern was now snapping him out of his trance, his mind seemed to calm but the rage still pumped adrenaline in his veins. "What's happening?"

Anya lingered near the wall, her face pale, her arms crossed tightly over herself.

Curly’s grip on Swansea was firm as the mechanic fought to lunge at Jimmy. “Let me go!” Swansea snarled, his voice breaking with rage. “That bastard hurt her. And by God, if you don’t admit it right now.”

Jimmy, standing a few feet away, looked more defensive than calm. “Calm the fuck down, what are you even trying to accuse me of!?” His voice grew loud, frustration rising.

Swansea didn’t back down. “Don’t play innocent! You did something to the kid! You're going to pa--”

“Enough!” Curly barked, stepping between them. “You’re not laying a hand on anyone until we figure this out!”

"Figure what out?" Jimmy scoffed. "I didn’t touch Y/N. She’s probably just overworked. Hell, maybe she’s paranoid. You ever think of that?"

"Watch your mouth. She’s not paranoid, you bastard. She’s scared - no - she's fucking horrified."

“Stop…” A hoarse voice broke through as the hallway fell into a tense silence.

All heads turned to you, who stood in the doorway, clutching the frame like it was the only thing holding you up. Your tear-stricken face and shadowed form silenced the room.

“I’m fine,” you whispered, forcing a broken smile. “Please… just stop.”

Daisuke saw the opposite, your unsteady hands, weak knees, the way your eyes quickly averted from Jimmy.

Without a word, he stepped forward, placing an arm over your shoulders and positioning himself between you and the others like a shield. “Let’s get you out of here."

He flinched at how your body recoiled, but eventually, you broke down, collapsing into him, sobbing uncontrollably. Internally, it broke him, too. He had no idea what was going on, but he was sure of one thing: he'd always stand by his mentor over the co-pilot.

Curly’s jaw tightened. His eyes flicked from your fragile state and back to Swansea’s anguished glare. He glanced at Jimmy, who shifted, his arms crossed.

“She said she’s fine,” Jimmy muttered, his voice defensive, almost annoyed. “Why is this even a thing? Can we move on?”

“You—” Swansea’s voice broke, raw with fury. He took a step forward, axe raised.

“Swansea, stop.” Curly’s voice cracked like a whip, cutting through the rising chaos. But even as Swansea temporarily lowered the weapon, his knuckles were still white around the handle.

“Are you really just going to let this slide?” Swansea’s words were sharp, biting. “The damned kid's a walking dead at this point, Curly! Can't you see that or are you just blind?”

Swansea’s chest heaved but he stepped back. The heavy clang of the axe echoed as it hit the floor. “But what can I say,” he muttered, his voice thick with emotion. “Your bud's guilty but you're the cap right? Just let him run around like nothing happened.”

“Stop. Just stop. I’ll handle it,” Curly said, his voice barely above a whisper. “You two, to the lounge. Now.”

Daisuke stayed by your side, his hand steady on your shoulders and guiding you away from the mess. Anya lingered behind; her gaze on the floor and arms wrapped around herself. She raised her head and met Curly's gaze.

Curly’s stomach twisted, seeing the nurse's blaming stare. Anya shifted her eyes to you and Daisuke’s retreating forms. “I told you, captain.” After that stabbing sentence, the nurse followed the younger members out the suffocating hallway.

He’d seen it, hadn’t he? But he did not allow himself to process it, understand how serious it was. Because it was Jimmy. His co-pilot, his partner in every storm, his... friend. It couldn’t be him.

But now, looking at the man in question, so quick to deflect, so defensive in the face of Swansea’s rage, Curly felt the floor shift beneath him. His chest tightened. He’d believed Anya then, but he hadn’t acted, hoping time and caution would reveal the best course. What if his hesitation had been the mistake? What if waiting for clarity cost him, them, more murkiness?

As the three men stayed at the hallway, Curly looked at Jimmy’s avoiding gaze and Swansea’s held-back rage. For the first time, he couldn’t shake the feeling that he had failed them all.

The ship was still, but the tension was suffocating. The echoes of the fleeting chaos heavily clung to the air. Anya and Daisuke were in the medbay with Y/N.

With all the stress of Anya’s situation and the news from the corporate, he never noticed how Y/N slipped away from them. Not until it was too late anyway.

Swansea sat in the kitchen, his head bowed over a cup of cold coffee. Curly hesitated before sitting across from him, his hands pressed flat against the table.

"Where's the mutt?"

"I sent him to the quarters, have him cool off a bit. Makes us all have a mature and level-headed talk." The captain's hands were shaking, but he squeezed them together in a grip. "About the situation. Anya.. she--"

"Spit it out," Swansea muttered, not lifting his head.

Curly swallowed hard. "Anya told me. About what he did to her." His voice was barely above a whisper, but the words sliced through the quiet like a blade.

Swansea’s head snapped up, his eyes blazing. If the axe were to be in the mechanic's hands, Curly's head would have been split in half. "And you did nothing?"

"I believed her," Curly said quickly, his voice tight. "I just—I didn’t know what to do. Jimmy’s my friend, Swansea. And we’re all stuck on this ship, more than a hundred days away from the others, from the police. I thought... I thought I had time to figure it out."

Swansea let out a bitter laugh. "And while you were figuring it out, he went for Y/N." His hand squeezed the mug tightly. "She trusted us, Curly. But one spat and trampled on it, another turned a blind eye and--" Swansea's guilt caught up on his throat. "And the last ignored the signs."

Curly didn’t respond immediately, his gaze dropping to the table. "You think I don’t know that?" he whispered. "You think I haven’t replayed every word of what Anya told me? I wanted to keep the peace, and now..." His voice faltered, images of Y/N’s tear-streaked face flooding his mind.

The older man's voice was low, the pain in it, sharp. "She’s just a kid, Curly. We were supposed to protect her, but what were we doing? Being fucking robots for money-hungry tyrants who doesn't give a fuck for their dogs."

Curly exhaled shakily, dragging a hand down his face. "I failed her. I failed them both." He looked up, meeting Swansea’s hard gaze. "But I can’t fail again. Whatever happens next, I won’t hesitate this time. Jimm--"

Before Swansea could respond, the ship lurched violently. Alarms blared, and the lights flickered. What Curly didn’t know was that the words he’d just spoken were ones he would never have the chance to live by.

a/n: got a bit carried away. part 2? maybeee??

Update: part 2 out!

Part 2

[unluckiestmember]

Mouthwashing X Innocent! Reader

Characters: Anya, Swansea, Daisuke, Curly and Jimmy

Warning: Mention of death, but outside of that, none. SFW.

A/N: Should I open up requests for Mouthwashing? I absolutely love this game so I wouldn't mind doing some headcanons here and there for it!

Anya

When it came to everyone in the Tulpar, Anya tried her best to have a strong bond with her crewmates. You were no exception. She found your presence along the spacecraft to be a breath of fresh air. She is always delighted to see you and super excited to teach you all she knows about medical practices and safety she’s read up on. When you, her and Daisuke are together on game nights, she always knows it’s going to be one of the best nights ever.

Some nights when she stays up, she appreciates your company and will even tap into her motherly instincts by laying your head on her shoulder or lap while she hums a tune to you. You are one of the only people who knew about her “incident” and jumped straight into action against Jimmy. Anya greatly appreciated it but always tries to keep you out of trouble out of fear of you getting hurt. The final days of her life were hard, but at least she can look back and confidently say that you were one of the best people she’s ever met. She hopes you two meet again in another life…

Swansea

Swamsea didn’t like you when he first met you. He thought you were another airhead like Daisuke or some quiet soul like Anya. But after a while, he came to secretly care for you like one of his children back on Earth. You are one of the only people he opens up about his family to, reminiscing on the past and revealing his inner turmoil as a father. He appreciates how you simply listen instead of overlapping him, bearing his heart to you unlike another lovable young member aboard to Tulpar.

If you love shoes, Swansea will find it easier to love you since the both of you bond over shoes of many kinds. If your shoes get ruined during the crash, he won’t hesitate to give you his own shoes so you don’t hurt your feet on loose materials. Swansea reminds you a lot of your own father, so you guess you can call him a dad away from home? He’ll act annoyed, but he secretly loved this title. He always did…

Daisuke

Let’s not lie to ourselves, when Daisuke first laid eyes on you, he wasted no time rushing to your side. In your eyes, you might’ve seen only a fellow co-worker, but for him, he saw a new friend. The both of you ended up being pals way before the Tulpar even set off into space! The members aboard the ship like to label you two as siblings, one being a chaotic brother and the other the sweet gentle sibling. A golden retriever and a puppy to say the least.

When he’s not bothering Swansea or hanging out with Anya, he’s rushing to your side to see if you want to take turns playing Pokemon on his gameboy or if you want to play dress up with his abundance of clothing. Sometimes he’ll open up about his life at home, revealing the troubles he has with his parents and how he doesn’t like to be labeled as the “rich kid on board for fun and games”. It hurts, but it helps knowing that you’re sweet enough to look past that aspect of him. Even with that axe hanging over his head, he could at least close his eyes and drift to sleep knowing that in taking this job, he met his true best friend; You.

Curly

Though the both of you didn’t spend much time together, whenever Curly was around he always tried his best to make sure you were comfortable along the Tulpar. When you two first met, he could tell you were shy and nervous about your space voyage together. So in good spirits, he opened up a dialogue of Pokemon with you, leading to not only you revealing more of yourself to him, but also attracting the rest of the team. Whenever he had cake aboard the ship, he would always sneak his slices over to you and Daisuke since he made sure to note you loved sweets.

After evaluations with Anya and others, he always made sure to treat you in some way for being such a good member of the crew. The time the both of you spent together was short, but also as sweet as commodorative cake and Curly would’ve loved to spend more time with you. Unfortunately, his chance has passed… There were so many times he wished he would have opened up to you and just. Be your friend instead of your captain… Some captain he was, right? If only he knew that even up to the end, you still cared for him…

Jimmy

If you got any requests for Arcane or X-Men '97, send them my way! Screw it, if you have Mouthwashing requests too, then throw them my way!

Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3

[cherry-pop-elf]

New Chapter

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want the best for her

SUM: Anya gets an abortion so you and the rest of the crew wait for her. You were the first one, however, to see her after surgery. Also because fuck you, abortion rights

Warnings: Abortion, sexual assault, jimmy, medical situations, abortion rights, domestic happy family

“How long is it gonna take?” Daisuke asked, as he was worried but also excited. Excited for Anya to feel better. Worried for well….Not like he’s had the best reactions to medical situations. Example A being Curly in the wheelchair next to him.

Curly was doing so much better now that he was actually on the planet again. The doctors were still jaw dropped that Anya was able to keep him alive with so little. Was not only a testimony to how she refused for him to die, but him refusing to leave his crew behind as well. It’s still a long journey ahead, but he was in clean bandages and clothes at least. Was even able to talk again. Sorta. Rather raspy but he will get there.

Jeez where to start on how you all got here to begin with.

“She’s going to be fine. Abortion is way less invasive than you think. It really depends on how far along, but luckily she isn’t too far for it to be to extreme. Not sure what type she went for, but whatever she chose she chooses. Just grateful we were able to return home before she reached to far along.” You would admit, as you would check up on Curly’s IV bag for him. Taking over Anya’s roll until she could return.

“Ya know….My wife had an abortion.” Swansea said, and it made all of you look over to him in pure surprise.

“What’s the funny look for? Ya think I’m a freak that would refuse my wife that? She needed it! The kid just….It ain’t my place, but the kid just wasn’t gonna survive. Either she carried it to term and die with em, or she just skips the heart ache. Not like it was her fault. We got two healthy girls at the end of the day. We got em because she got rid of that fucked up one.” He explained, as Daisuke seemed wide eyed in respect.

Explains why he snapped more clearly.

Anya had explained to Swansea what had happened, and before you pre Daisuke knew it Jimmy’s head was sliced off and rolling across the kitchen floor. Poor Suke threw up all over you from the sight, and shock. Then threw up again when he learned why he did such a thing. Lots of puking and crying. Fitting.

“Glad that damn company is dead. Whose wise idea was it to have a single woman surrounded by men. No offense you two-“ Curly would wheeze, before you would help him take his medication. Sure is easier to take pills when you actually give him water and take it slow. No choking or crying.

“Thats a can of worms I don’t want us to talk about.” Swansea would scoff. As a father to two girls he had a lot of things to say. Daisuke would be willing to listen, sure, but honestly you all had enough emotional fatigue to last multiple life times.

Thank god Curly was so high up on the food chain at the company. They knew they would get into more hot water if their, once, top captain suddenly vanished. Wouldn’t make their bankruptcy any smoother. For once they did the right thing and sent Simeon to save them.

Funny. A capitalist corporate organization took responsibility for their actions. For the right reasons? No. But they still took it. Strange. Isn’t it?

“Is she done yet?” Daisuke would whine, as you laughed at his childish nature. As if waiting on a sister to get out of the dentists office. You found it rather endearing honestly. That despite it all he was still having a heart full of love and excitement.

“Go play on your toy.” Swansea would grumble, as Suke whined. Regardless he would pull out his game boy. A nice excuse to play video games with out any guilt on wasting his time. Enjoying life shouldn’t be a burden.

“Need anything, Curly?” You would ask him, since you planned on going to the bathroom. Yeah Swansea and Daisuke could handle him, but you still wanted to be polite. Maybe you could grab him something from the vending machines. Maybe a soda. Some sugar in his system would do him good. Anya said that sugary bubble water of some kind, like sprite, can help quite a lot with indigestion.

“I should be fine. Thank you for asking though. Sorry you have to…” He would admit, as he looked himself over. His missing limbs now properly covered up with fabric to keep them clean, and allow him some kind of independence. The fabric on the stumps were padded. With enough practice and effort he would certainly be able to roll himself around.

Then again this was a world of space travel. He was going to get cyborged eventually, but you need to be healed first before such an intense operation. Can’t rush something like this.

“Hey. I do it because I can. Not because I have to. You are our captain. Let me be a good solider.” You teased him, and even in his broken face you could see a smile.

Swansea have you a head nod to indicate he would ‘take care of the boys’ and you were off to use the restroom.

Once done with that you would grab a soda from the vending machine for Curly, a bag of candy for Daisuke, and some pretzels for Swansea. As you were making your way back a nurse would motion you over.

“Miss Anya was asking for you. She has finished her operation, and wanted you to see her.”

You were surprised at that. You expected Curly to be her first guest. Did something go wrong? Oh you couldn’t help but freak out.

You followed after the nurse quickly, and all you were shown was Anya resting in her hospital bed. Tired, but relieved. Mostly. You saw that familiar stress in her eyes. That same stress she had when asking you if she made the right choice in asking Jimmy for help with medicating Curly.

That worry of if I did the right thing.

The nurse would leave you to alone, and you would quickly set the snacks aside. Now you were sitting next to her, in a chair, and holding her hand. Ready to be the shoulder she needed.

“Hey there Doc. How you doing?” You asked her, as you carefully stroked the back of her hand. Made sure to be mindful of all the tubes and wires.

“Well….It went far smoother than I expected. It was just so quick. They didn’t even need to put me under. The IV is more so for the issues I already had because of being stranded on the ship for so long. It was just so quick. So painless. Was just like pulling a thorn out of an arm. It was….Simple.” She would try and explain to you. Needing to make sure to stop herself before using doctor jargon.

“Too easy?” You puzzled.

“Yes. It was just….I expected pain. Pain and anxiety and horror. Suppose even a nurse can come to learn a thing or two…..”

She was hiding something, and you had an educated guess on what.

“You expected Jimmy to break down the door. Weren’t you?”

There was silence, but it told you everything.

“Scoot over. Move it sister-“ You were now crawling into the medical bed with her, moving the wires around, and soon snuggled into her side. Hugging her close, and especially with your arm over her stomach.

“You did the right thing. It’s your body at the end of it all. You took responsibility of taking care of yourself. You wouldn’t have been able to live a proper life. You went to med school. You don’t need me to tell you the horrors of pregnancy and birth. That alone is terrifying. But also you simply not wanting to be pregnant is enough. Ain’t no Jimmy’s gonna storm in and say otherwise.” You huffed, as she smiled. Her head leaning into yours.

“Yeah….No more Jimmy’s. Pretty sure Swansea will make sure of that.” She did her best to joke, and you were proud of her for it. This whole ordeal was hell. Hell none of you will ever truly walk away from. But that’s ok. You all had each other to lean on.

“I think I’m ready for everyone now.” Anya would whisper, as you gave her hand a squeeze. You were so proud of her. This was all such a nightmare, but she’s taking it in stride.

“Hell yeah.” You agreed, before climbing out of the bed. You made sure to grab the snacks, and exited the hospital room.

“Come on guys-! Anya is waiting on you-!” You shameless shouted outside of the room. She couldn’t help her face palm. Daisuke sure was an influence on you.

“I wanna push Curly!”

“Like hell you are-!”

They would bicker away, before Curly said ‘fuck it’ and did his best to roll himself over. He sure was a stubborn one. Made it half way before you figured that was enough work out for one person.

“Pretty far! Getting better at it-!” You encouraged, as the two men realized how far Curly rolled off on before finally following you two into Anya’s room.

“HAPPY NO BIRTH-DAY!” Daisuke would cheer, as Anya shook her head at such a joke.

“God dammit kid-“ Swansea side, before he came over to Anya. Giving her head a kiss. Just comforting her much like a father would.

“How many of us need to be in medical beds?” Curly would give a raspy snort, as Anya reached her hand out. He would lean his head over, and she would give it a stroke. As if all his hair never burned off. A means of holding his hand, in a way, compared to just grasping a limb.

She didn’t need children.

She had all of you.

What else could a woman want?

Since you were willing to read through this story to the end, and get a nice in depth look on the importance of such why not donate to some organizations? : D

Planned Parenthood

Nation Network For Abortion Funds

National Abortion Federation

The Bridge Alliance

The Satanic Temple

ActBlue

No worry on donating. Spreading awareness and signing petitions still help! The more people learn and understand the better! Could also like reblog with other organizations or petitions!

Abortion is healthcare!

[mind-intheclouds342]

Do it for them - Co-captain reader x Curly

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

Swansea: "Could you see anything?"

You took off your space suit helmet to respond to him, your face showing dark circles and a tired grimace. 

"Nothing at all... But... mm... We are following a trajectory but I can't say which one it is, we are not returning to earth but we are also not heading to the delivery zone... I only know that the ship is taking us somewhere else... but maybe-"

You were about to collapse, but Swansea immediately caught you before you fell.

Swansea: "Okay! That's enough, how long has it been since you last slept?"

"I need to find a way to return... Then I'll be able to sleep..."

You held onto his shirt tightly, trying to stand up but your body wouldn't let you, you felt the full weight of the suit on you. 

Swansea: "How could you go out like that? Do you know what would have happened if you had fainted out there?! We were going to lose you forever!"

The man immediately made you sit down and helped you take off the suit. 

Swansea: "Look at yourself, have you been eating? You look pale."

"I have my reverses in my room..." 

You murmured as he helped you to your feet and took you to your room, he could see the pile of accumulated food.

Swansea: "You haven't been eating!"

"Maybe I forgot about that..." 

He began to worry upon seeing all the papers stuck to the walls, written and scribbled, recreating plans of the ship and attempts to return. 

Swansea: "Listen to me carefully, we all appreciate the work you are doing, but we need you to be fine! Otherwise, we won't have a captain anymore!"

You rested your head on his chest and he felt how you wrapped your arms around him, he stood still as he heard you sob, sighed, and returned the embrace. 

"I'm scared - I'm afraid I won't be able to fix this - that I won't be able to see him again - that something will happen to all of you - it's too much"

Swansea: "You don't have to handle everything on your own, we're a team. I know well that Curly was your partner, that you relied on each other, but you can count on us too." 

You slowly pulled away and ran your hand over your cheeks to dry your tears.

"I didn't know you were good at comforting."

Swansea: "Ha! My wife is expecting a girl at home, I'm prepared for these things." 

"She is going to be very lucky to have you as a father."

Swansea: "Of course," he sat down next to you and sighed, "I want you to take a break, okay?"

"...Okay," you nodded. "Can you take care of the others? Delivering their rations and all that?"

Swansea: "If you give me the code, I'll do it without any problems."

"Thank you very much, Swansea... These two months after the crash...have been... Exhausting"

Swansea: "You want to see it, don't you?"

You nodded without saying a word. 

Swansea: "I can distract Anya and you can sneak off to see him."

"No- I can't do that... I will respect his wishes and wait until he feels ready to see me... Have you seen it?"

Swansea: "Nah, the only ones who have seen him are Anya and Jimmy, it seems like he's in a delicate situation."

You lifted your legs onto the bed to hug them tightly, resting your chin on your knees. 

"I'll rest for a week, is that okay?"

Swansea: "Of course, boss" 

He patted your back before leaving.

You looked at the rings on your hands and smiled. 

"You have made me depend a lot on you... I have to learn to control myself..."

You sighed and threw yourself onto the bed to try to get some rest. 

The first few days of your break, you felt extremely anxious for not doing anything about it, but you knew you needed to stay calm. 

One night you heard some knocks on your door, you were doodling in your notebook to keep yourself distracted until you saw Jimmy walk in. 

Jimmy: "I brought you a cup of coffee." 

He mentioned leaving the cup on the nightstand next to your bed. 

"Thank you"

Jimmy: "I noticed you left Swansea in charge."

"He has more experience than the others."

Jimmy: "Shouldn't it be my responsibility? I am Curly's co-pilot."

"What's the point of a co-pilot if there's no pilot's cabin? I'm sorry Jimmy, the answer is no. Anyway, in a few days I'll be back."

Jimmy: "Why do you always have to be a bitch with me?!"

You lifted your gaze from your notebook to see him, tilting your head. 

"I never did anything to you, you were always the one who talked shit about me, but Curly always kept you in line. Now he's not here, so I'm going to keep you in your place, okay?" 

Without saying another word, he left, slamming your door hard, but that didn't scare you or make you react in any way.

Seeing the cup of coffee he brought you, you took it to throw the content in the trash. 

.

.

.

.

.

Jimmy: "You and your perfect wife, your perfect life... It seems they enjoy seeing me as if I were someone inferior."

The man was speaking while placing a pill in his hand. 

Jimmy: "Let's see how much he's going to believe after tonight." 

He brutally opened his friend's mouth, who let out a cry of pain and growls that seemed to come from a helpless animal. 

The sounds from that room were horrible, all caused by the man taking it out on his friend for having everything he wanted. 

[lie-lacdreams]

Thermodynamics and Turmoil (Curly x Reader pt.3)

And so we introduce a catalyst that yields the product from the buildup of the last two parts... (sorry, I'm just a huge chemistry nerd if you couldn't already tell) I'm having a hard time deciding what direction to take this story in, but I hope it's still a good read.

Last Next

Engineer! Reader x Curly Word count ~ 1.6k

The next few weeks were hard for (Y/N) to stay focused. “(Y/N), are you alright? Every time I’ve talked to you recently you haven’t really heard anything I say.”

“I’m so sorry, Anya,” she sighed. “I guess I have a lot to think about.”

Anya rolled over on her bed to face her bunkmate, resting her chin on her hands. “What’s going on? I’m asking as a friend, not as some sterile clinician trying to conduct a psychological study.”

(Y/N) laughed at that, unsure if Anya was saying that as a joke or if she was self-aware of how monotonous she always gets when reading off the questions she asks every week. “You’ve been on the Tulpar with this crew for how long now?”

“Give or take six to seven years. At least with Swansea and Captain Curly. Jimmy was a new addition a year or two ago. This was a job to give me some income and clinical experience as I was studying and applying for medical school.”

“I see. Do you feel particularly close with the two of them? Or even Jimmy?” (Y/N) was on her side now, facing Anya.

“Swansea is like a father figure to me. A rough one for sure, but for a couple of months in between trips I’ve babysat his kids in between taking and retaking the MCAT. He’s been supportive of me in his own way. I never could get close to the captain. There’s just a power dynamic there that makes it a strictly professional relationship. As for Jimmy… he’s off-putting to me, but I can’t quite put a finger on why. He just gives me the creeps.”

She nodded, agreeing with Anya about Jimmy. There was something uncomfortable about him but she was relieved that their interactions stayed minimal. Revisiting what she had to say about Curly, however, her mind wandered. There had been a power dynamic between the two of them for sure, in addition to a little bit of an age gap, but the more they talked, the more their interactions mirrored that of old friends. Their conversation flowed so easily and never resorted to small talk, as it did when she was forced to interact with Jimmy. 

“Why did you ask?” Anya cut her out of her thoughts. 

“Oh, I don’t know. As one of the new ones here I’m trying to figure out my place in this crew. That’s all.” (Y/N) said vaguely. “I’m so grateful to have you here, Anya. You’ve been such a great friend to me ever since I joined, and it’s such a relief to at least have another woman here.” 

Anya chuckled, “I understand. Sometimes there’s just too much testosterone on this ship. I’m glad you’re here too.”

Ending their conversation shortly after, (Y/N) got up to turn the lights off and the two went to bed. Lying down, sleep didn’t find her easily as her mind swarmed. After truly getting to know him, (Y/N) found Curly nothing but kind, gentle, compassionate, and easy to talk to; the fact that he was so handsome was an added bonus. She was stuck on what to do from here. Something she knew about herself was that it was so easy for people to read the emotions right off her face– it was always hard for (Y/N) to hide her feelings. There was no way he could find out how she felt – for one, he was technically her boss, but also she knew that if he knew, that would be another added responsibility on his end not to hurt her feelings and keep civil for the entire year they were out in space. 

So she stayed away as much as she could, sitting at least one person away from him during group meals, keeping conversations short and light, going to bed earlier rather than staying in the lounge late in the evenings to do work or relax. 

Several times, Curly would try to seek her out to check in and see how she was doing, or just start a conversation with her, but she would give him terse answers and make up excuses, saying that Swansea needed her or that she needed to check something somewhere. This would leave Curly dejected and confused.

One day, it was getting hot in the utility room as (Y/N) moved equipment around to organise. With the few major things she needed to take care of out of the way today, she offered to help Swansea with whatever he needed while he and Daisuke “cleaned up the mess that Numbnuts over here made over by the hallway”, as he put it. The mess he was referring to was a bit of foam that escaped from a pipe that Daisuke hit after getting too excited about Swansea letting him screw the pipes shut all by himself. They both left, Swansea grumbling and holding the axe to cut away at the foam and Daisuke with a rubbish bag saying, “clean up on aisle four!”

Wiping the sweat off her brow, she unzipped her work jumper halfway and shed the long sleeves of the top part, tying it securely around her waist. Underneath she chose to wear a simple white tank top today, which worked well to her advantage. Squatting down to pick up a particularly heavy box, she let out a heave as she lifted it up, turning around to be met with the sight of Curly at the door. 

Flustered in the state she was in, she nearly dropped the box. “C-Captain! You startled me. What are you doing here? Are you looking for Swansea? He and Daisuke shouldn’t be too far. They just left to clean up some foam that escaped from a pipe. They won’t be long, I think.” (Y/N) rapid-fire answered without a word from the captain. While doing so she missed the glint in his eye. He walked over to her to pick up the heavy box out of her arms as she motioned where it needed to be. 

“Actually, I was on my way to the cockpit when I noticed the utility room door open and saw you in here. I feel like we haven’t really talked in a while. Are you okay?” He frowned.

“What do you mean? Of course I am. And you talk to me all the time – I’m always bumping into you and have been getting better about eating meals with everyone. We talk then, too. Things have just been busy lately, that’s all.” She said nervously. 

Curly narrowed his eyes at her and walked right up in front of her, staring her down. “I feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately. What happened?”

The closer he got to (Y/N), the more she backed away until she was cornered by a cryo pod. “N-Nothing! I swear I wouldn’t avoid you!” She lied. His proximity was making her feel hotter and she could feel her face burning up, and the awareness of her blush only made her more flustered because of it. 

He put a hand on the pod behind her, effectively caging her in. “Hmm, bullshit.” She had never heard him swear before, but hearing it now for the first time turned her on in a way she didn’t want to admit. “You know,” he started. “A few weeks ago as I was going to the lounge I heard Daisuke yell out something interesting. Something about you wanting to do something with me?” He raised an eyebrow. “Know anything about that, hm?” Dammit, Daisuke, she knew he was being too loud. 

Panicked, she didn’t know what to do in this situation. She could continue to lie through her teeth, as unsuccessful as that was already, or rip off the bandaid and admit it, apologise profusely, and sign her will before she died from an overdose of embarrassment. But before she could utter a weak excuse, Curly answered for her, his gaze growing softer with his voice.

“Tell me, please, if you don’t want this, I’ll leave. I’ll pretend this never happened and apologise for misreading the signals. We’ll go back to how we were before all of this.” His eyes grew half-lidded as he bent his neck down, bringing his face closer to hers. “Do you want this?”

“Yes.” She said shakily. Slowly, he cupped his hand around her face, gentle and cautious. Hot breath fanned at her lips before slowly pressing against hers gingerly, like he was trying to savour something decadent. His other hand moved to her waist, pulling her closer to him as she wrapped both arms around his neck, standing on her toes now to push more of herself into him. Swiping her tongue over his bottom lip, he let out a content sigh, deepening the kiss even further. Every small sound she made only made him hungrier for more, and Curly swore if they continued he would never want to stop. Breaking off the kiss, he looked down at her, pupils dilated and lips flush and swollen. 

“I don’t think I could get enough of you,” he panted. Just as they were about to go in for another kiss, the loud voice of Daisuke could be heard echoing through the halls, indicating that Swansea and him had finished cleaning up the foam and were headed back. Wordlessly, Curly placed one last kiss on her lips with a tender look and quickly slipped out to go to the cockpit before he got caught. 

“Jeez, that took forever! I promise I’ll be more careful next time, Swansea. Clearing out the foam is tedious work. Oh hey (Y/N) how’s it going? Damn, you must’ve worked up a sweat moving all of those boxes because you look hot! Eugh, that came out weird I swear I mean like the temp–”

Speechless from what had just transpired, (Y/N) left the utility room.

Isn't consent just so sexy? There's nothing like a little ask before macking, guys, never forget

[cherry-pop-elf]

Night terrors

Anya x Reader

Can be read as platonic because we all want to take care of her like we wish someone would for us

AN: As a victim of sexual assault I feel it is important to have a realistic fluff story about the aftermath of it. How it affects the person after it’s been done and how the trauma lingers. How it’s so very important for the person to have a support network. YOU will be her support network. Thank you

Also not to get political but god women in the USA are experiencing a massive increase of assaults so call this projection, or call this training for the inevitable

SUM: Despite surviving that Tulpar adventure, despite all the good karma thrown back at you all, there are just too many many scars to truly recover from

Warnings: Past sexual assault, nightmares, PTSD, whump, abortion, paranoia, it’s gonna be a stressful read, there will be fluff don’t worry, paranoia, inspired/based on my own experiences

���STOP-!”

Anya was screaming in her sleep again.

Woke you up pretty quickly, as you were sharing a bed with her. She was rather scared to sleep alone. Afraid that someone will just break in and take advantage of her. That somehow Jimmy, who long since was dead, will break in again.

“Anya-! Anya wake up! It’s me! Anya-!” You would shake her and try to get her to wake up. To get her out of that terrifying cloud of memories. Her poor face was pale and full of sweat, and she was scared awake by you shaking her. For a fleeting moment she thought it was Jimmy.

As she gave another cry, you reached over and turned on the bedside tables lamp.

She saw your face, and finally took a breathe.

You two weren’t on the Tulpar anymore. Jimmy wasn’t going to hurt either of you ever again. Swansea was home with his wife. Daisuke was home with his mother and father. And she was here with you.

She was alive.

“I….Im sorry-“ Anya sniffled, as you just pulled her into your arms. Gentle with combing your fingers through her hair. Just gentle reminders to not be sorry. To not be sorry for being justified with her fear.

“He won’t ever get you again. I promise.” You would remind her, but she would still tremble.

“Can we check the locks again?” She would ask you, and you would nod. Often times this was the case. No matter how many times she would ask you that question you never got annoyed. It’s good to check the locks anyway. Gotta stay safe after all.

You would both climb out of bed, put on your robes, and go walking around the home. One of your hands was left to be held by Anya’s, as the other would be used to check the locks on everything. From the multiple at front door, from each window, to that of the back door. Each one checked, as Anya would hug at you close.

Was a very nice home, you had to admit. After having rescue finally called, and being saved, the media went nuts. Especially on the fact Curly was still alive. Gave Anya the much needed support to show she was very worthy of a position as a proper doctor. That also meant she got herself quite the hefty salary. Also helps that she now had partial royalties to the book she helped write about the adventure on the ship.

“Every lock is secure.” You explained, as she gave still an anxious look.

“Let’s check each room, and closet. Yeah?” That made her quickly nod.

Now you two were roaming the entire house now. Checking under furniture, in closets, all the nine yards. No stone was left un-turned. You would do it a million times for her. She deserved to have some kind of relief from it all.

“There we go. No Jimmy.” You would give her a hug, and she hugged you back. Still shaken, but at least she was breathing more steady.

The two of you would return to the bedroom, where she did her routine. Checking under her pillow for her sheathed knife, the bedside for her baseball bat, the drawer for her gun, and to take an extra pill to help with the anxiety burst she was having. Her routine.

She would try and lay down, only to dart her head towards the bedroom door. Eyes wide with raw and pure fear.

“I swear I heard him at the door. I swear I did. He said my name he said my name-“ She whimpered, as you would get up. You opened the door, looked around the hallway, and returned.

“Don’t worry Anya. I didn’t hear a single thing.” You reassured, as you would lock the bedroom door for her. Along with putting a chair under the door handle. Even went as far as to double check the bedroom windows, and closed the curtains.

“I’m so sorry-“ She would begin again, as her eyes watered. She felt like such a burden. To have all this fear and paranoia. To the point she couldn’t feel safe when left alone. You couldn’t blame her though. The wounds were still so horribly fresh. Not to mention sometimes PTSD can kick in so many years later. You’ll take the morbid comfort in having it kick in now where you all can handle it now and prepare for the future than suddenly out of nowhere in God knows how long.

It is what it is.

She wasn’t the only one traumatized after all, and she shouldn’t need to apologize for justified fear.

You would pull her back into your arms, and you both laid down. You would turn on the white noise machine for her, to help block the paranoid sounds of voices and scratches from the doors, and would just talk with her. Talk until her medication kicked in to help her sleep.

Didn’t matter what it was. It was just noise to keep her mind distracted.

You wondered how the rest of the crew was doing. How they were dealing with it.

They all had family, so maybe they were doing well. Really should meet up again soon. Can’t be blamed life is so busy.

Curly was back living with his parents and siblings, which they welcomed with open arms. Even his friends before the crew were willing to all share a space to help.

Swansea had his wife and even his kids. Sure he says he’s too old to be traumatized but he keeps checking on his kids way more often now. That’s for sure.

God knows when poor Daisuke’s PTSD will kick in. He may be acting fine now but it’s gonna be a ticking time bomb. It’ll come at him sooner or later. For now his parents were feeling like monsters for pressuring him into that intern ship. He never blamed them, of course. He is even still working under a mentorship with Swansea even. Guess not everything was negative.

Then there was you and Anya. She was the most traumatized of all. There was even the trauma of an abortion. There’s still so many emotions with that as well, but you held her hand through it. Even as far as to move in with her to help. You two had always been very close. Even before joining the crew. You two were always tagged together. Even nicked named her assistant to a point.

You’ll stick with her through the ends of the earth.

“Wanna go visit Curly in the morning? It’ll be Saturday. Maybe we can even invite Swansea and Daisuke.” You offered. Just something positive to look forward to. Something worth waiting for.

“That would be nice.” She muttered, as her own paranoias exhaustion was kicking in. Too tired to even be afraid. Often times how it ends. She gets herself so worked up it ends up being the very same thing that makes her fall back asleep.

“Yeah. We can check out his new prosthetics. Daisuke said he even bought stickers specifically for them.” That had Anya smile. That sweet smile that was hard to come by right now. One that was filled with comfort. Comfort of such an innocent and sweet thought.

“Swansea says he’s also going to attach his own upgrades to it. Not sure how that will work, or what the hell he’s planning, but not gonna lie I need to see if he gives him rocket boosters.”

That got a little laugh from her. The both of you imagining poor Captain Curly flying around in the sky, as Daisuke runs around with some trampoline to try and catch him on.

Just something silly to cut through it all.

Seemed to work, as you could feel her breathing easier now. Her breath not so intense. Was far more steady, and you could tell she fell back asleep. You were thankful for it. Not because she was annoying you. No. Never. But because she needed her rest. She deserves it. She already is working long hours at the hospital, which you bet is because she is trying to avoid being isolated and alone at all cost maybe even reduce sleeping to, so she needed proper sleep more than ever.

And you’ll do your best for her. To help her with it all. You were her little assistant. You’ll do what an assistant does best. Make sure your boss is able to tackle projects easier.

And this project was healing. A project that won’t ever end, will have ups and downs, and be taxing. Over time out the ass and no vacations.

And you know what you say to that?

Bring it.

Thank you so much for reading. This was a more vulnerable piece because Anya really reminded me so much of myself. How I’m suppose to take care of everyone else, while my traumatic abuse is just swept under the rug.

Since you read all the way to the end, maybe take a look at this

National Sexual Assault Hotline:

1-800-656-4673

National Domestic Violence Hotline:

800-799-7233

RAINN (Rape Abuse Incest National Network)

1-800-656-4673

National Suicide Prevention Lifeline

1-800-273-8255

You deserve love and support. What happened wasn’t your fault in the slightest. Not even for a single second. You deserve happiness, hope, and to live a long and healthy life. Everything will be ok again. Doesn’t seem like it now, but it will. I promise

[cherry-pop-elf]

Follow My Lead

Curly x Disabled!Reader

Can be read as platonic

AN: Purely self indulgent. I’m suffering extreme disability issues do to the change in weather and it’s very painful and exhausting. So here we are. Friendly reminder of disability’s existing and lives can still be lived. Thank you

SUM: You were returning to the Physical Therapy center for your weekly appointment. As you enter the designated gym, with its nurses, you noticed someone new. New people in the waiting room, and new people in the gym. Wonder who that new nurse is to…

Warnings: Disabilities, medical discussion, reader’s disabilities are vague but will have issues that are common in the disability community, PTSD, Trauma, Everyone lives except Jimmy, lots of medical discussion, so much trauma Jesus Christ

“Just wait for a few minutes and we can call you back.” The woman would tell you. You would give a nod and returned to your seat in the waiting room. Right next to quite the chipper fellow. With floral attire. There with a much older man. Perhaps his father?

“Hi-!” The floral guy would say, before the older man nudged him. Telling him not to bother the other people here at the gym here. You didn’t mind. People can make the atmosphere here so depressing sometimes. It’s nice to have some sunshine.

“Hello!” You returned, meeting his energy. That had him just beaming.

“You two are new here, aren’t you? First time here?” You asked, as the floral man nodded. The older just let the younger do all the talking. The floral one seemed the social butterfly anyway.

“Yeah. It’s not for us though. It’s for our friend Curly. And also Anya! She’s a nurse. Since she’s a nurse she’s helping him with the other like physical therapists here. He really needs a-lot of extra help. His arms and legs are missing, eye is missing, had so many skin graphs. He’s been through A LOT. So we’re here for moral support.” He explained to you, and you would listen.

Damn that Curly really went through alot. Sounded like he lost the limbs then actually was without them earlier in life. He’s going to have a long journey ahead of himself.

“Swansea here is also helping install stuff at Curly’s place to make it easier to move around in. Like railings, changing door knobs, stuff like that! He’s got prosthetics he’s still getting used to, but he also uses a wheelchair when they make his muscles ache too much.” He would ramble on, and you happily listened.

It was so nice to have someone be so positive. Many able bodied people just treat disabled situations with such mourning and sadness. It was refreshing to have someone have a positive outlook. To be excited to help compared to just mourning and worrying.

“You can come back when you are ready-!” A physical therapist would call for you. As you went to leave, the floral man was quick to call out.

“Oh! I’m Daisuke!”

“Well hello Daisuke. Please talking to you-!” You would wave, before heading back to the gym area with everyone else.

Typically most physical gyms would have a designated nurse for each person, that way you can be watched carefully and monitored for improvement. This gym, however, allowed that people who had progressed to a certain level can work out independently with the gear offered here. As a means to allow more independence, and for them to improve or care for their health by their own speed.

It seems like that Curly guy won’t reach that milestone for ages.

He was very easy to notice amongst the often elderly folks there. The rare younger type, but often it’s from some kind of long turn injury or recovery of surgery.

There you would see a man using the standing bars. Metal bars on each side, and a person would walk through the middle. Gave them the ability to use their arms to keep support instead of using all their weight on their legs.

Just like Daisuke said he was in pretty rough shape. His arms had prosthetics and same for his legs. A eye patch covered his missing eye, and much of his skin still was incredibly rough.

Despite it all, he’s trying. He’s shakily walking through, with his arms on the metal, and he’s taking it step by step. Still trying to adjust to having somewhat of limbs again.

Next to him was a kind looking woman. Her eyes looked like they had seen too much, but her smile said she is willing to keep on living. To spite the world she will be happy.

“There you go Curly. You are doing a good job. Just take it very slow. There’s no need to rush. You will be able to do more once you adjust. How about you finish this walk and we can sit down. Then we can try and use your arms for a while. Legs are the most exhausting.” She would say to him.

She had such a warmth in her voice. A nurse that everyone wished they had after any life threatening event. She was perfect for a physical therapist.

“Shit shit shit-!” He would start to panic, and he would end up slipping. She was quicker though. She managed to grab him by his chest, as his limbs went limp. Just dangling like a doll. He looked so humiliated.

Maybe he needed a friend.

“Hi! I heard you two are new here. That guy in the waiting room, Daisuke, told me a little about you two. Do you need help with like, oh I don’t know, anything? I’ve been coming here for a while now. If you want anyway.” You would offer, as Anya would help him stand back on his bionic feet again.

“Oh that is very kind of you. I think we are alright, for the time being. But thank you so much.” She was so gentle with her words. Clearly each word was truly kindness, and not just words to push someone away.

“I wouldn’t mind it. I….I have no idea what I’m doing.” Curly would admit, as there was still shame in his expression. As if he felt unworthy to be there. To be helped at all. That he just deserved the worse.

Very relatable.

“Oh sure! Oh oh! Maybe I can be on the other side of the bar. You can place your hands on my shoulder and your other arm on hers. We will hold you up ourselves so when you slip you don’t fall.” You offered, as you stepped into position.

Anya would do the same, and made sure there was a hand on his back and one on his chest. To help him keep himself straight, and if he slipped you both can push him back into place.

“Deep breaths Curly. You got this. You are almost to the other side.” Anya reassured, as you smiled as well. Suppose seeing you both trying so hard helped him gain the motivation to push through.

Each step was heavy, slow, and frustrated. He was trying his best, but sometimes his muscle spasms kicked in and his leg would just move the wrong way. You could relate to that. Muscle spasms were so annoying to deal with. Especially in public. People think you are on some kind of drug and question you. Annoying as hell.

It was slow, but you didn’t care. He needed a little extra help and you figured you could offer it. Make things just a little easier for him. It’s rough. You know it so well.

He finally reached the other end, and Anya couldn’t help but clap and beam. So proud of him. So damn happy he did it. Course when she let go he ended up falling into you, but you managed to help him get back up again.

“Sorry! Just you did it! Before you know it you’ll be running and jumping. You’ll be back to skiing in no time.” She would encourage, before bringing the wheelchair over. The two of you helping him sit in it. Such a relief.

“You ski?” You asked, as Anya would help take his legs off. Let him breathe for a while. While she did that, he gave a small nod.

“Before all….this….I used to really be quite the athlete. I loved winter sports. If it was in the snow I was there. Snowboarding, Skiing, ice skating, ice climbing, I used to do it all. Even was a body builder. To think I used to do so much…..” He sighed, as he looked over at his arms. Looking at what was once muscle and bone. Now just metal and specialized plastic.

“Hey….I know you’ve been told this a million times, so I’ll just say it from a person that also doesn’t have the best mobility either. You’ll have good days and bad days. Some more extreme than others. It’s gonna to fucking suck. It’s gonna hurt. It’s going to be exhausting. You’ll have days wondering why you should even stay alive. But you’ll also have days where you can accomplish simple things like making your own dinner. Taking out the trash. Fold some laundry. You’ll get there. It’s gonna suck but you’ll reach it.”

Having someone keep it blunt with him seemed to be what he needed to hear. Was like he learned a mistake about keeping things to sweet. That sometimes you need a reality check.

“Thank you….I think it was very important for me to hear that. Thank you.” He would do his best to smile at you, but the nerves in his face were rather damaged. You wouldn’t be surprised if he needed some more surgery there to.

He’s still going to go through so much, but maybe having someone who can genuinely relate to it all could help.

“Hey, I come here every Saturday. That way when I’m painfully exhausted from it I can just relax and have Sunday be a complete recover day.” You said, as you walked with him as Anya rolled him over to a spot to not bother people. She would soon sit across from him, with a small ball, and the two of them would try and play simple catch with it. Both to help with his arms and his new adjustment with a single eye.

“Think that sounds like the best plan for me right now as well…” He nodded, as that was the way you two could agree on it.

He would do his best to play catch with her, but it kept falling in his lap. His limbs just not moving quite fast enough, and his send of direction never quite there. Was so frustrating, and you understood it.

“Said a million times, I know, but take it from me. You’ll genuinely get there. But it will take a while. Not days. Not weeks. Months if you keep at it. But it’ll get there.” You reassured, as you stepped away. Off to do your own exercises for your own issues.

Was a peaceful gym day like that. Spending what spoons you had to take care of yourself. Every now and again, when taking a breather, you looked over to him. Seeing Anya help him get used to his limbs. Small things like picking up something, catching, even paddy cake. Taking it slow for him.

Once you ran out of energy you would kinda hang out with them.

You didn’t ask him how he ended up like that, you just let yourself breathe. Breathe as he spoke what he wanted to speak about. Same for her.

From what little pieces you could pick out from them it sounded like they were victims of a ship crash. No wonder he ended up so fucked up. That fact he’s alive at all is insane to you. Anya deserved way more credit.

There also seemed to be a shared enemy between them. When a person called over for a therapist, named Jimmy, the way they flinched and looked around like someone started unloading a gun. Whoever this Jimmy was sure made his mark on them.

Once he finally couldn’t go on any longer she would take the arms off as well. Letting what was left of his limbs breathe. He was so exhausted, but he seemed happy. Happy to have made some kind of progress, and even happier he had someone to talk to through it.

“I’ll see you next Saturday.” You smiled, and waved, as you started to leave. He gave a wave of his own, before Daisuke and Swansea returned to him. There to carry his prosthetics and be his cheerleaders.

You were happy for him. He deserved a support network.

He deserved to smile again.

You just knew he did.

[wandering-pirate]

When the moon fades, the stars guide

Part 1

Part two of "How does a moon lose its shine?"

Summary: When the chaos went down, what led up to it? And what will happen next in the dark, metal casements of the Tulpar?

Pairing: Father figure! Swansea x reader

a/n: ask and you shall receive~ thanks for y'all's patience!!

Trigger warning: Depictions of sexual abuse and violence. There are no explicit scenes of the rape itself but the trauma and experience of y/n is very much described. Please take care of yourselves while reading <3<3

Day of Departure

The Tulpar’s engines hummed steadily, a sound you came to think of as the freighter’s heartbeat. Three years on this ship, and it started to feel like a second skin at this point. But still, every haul gives you that faint, familiar buzz of excitement, like the thrill of stepping into something bigger than yourself. Responsibility.

You leaned against the inventory console, triple-checking your clipboard. Rows of numbers and codes blurred together, but the satisfaction of seeing everything in order made the strain worth it.

"So, you’re the famous Y/N," a voice chirped behind you.

You turned to find Daisuke, the new mechanic intern that Curly told the crew about. He looked barely out of his teens, his uniform covered with a bright yellow hawaian-patterned shirt that he somehow managed to smuggle and had a grin a little too wide. Newbie's buzz, you thought.

"And you’re the new grease monkey," you teased, extending a hand.

"Mechanic-in-training," he corrected, shaking your hand with exaggerated seriousness. "Big difference."

Swansea scoffed from the other side of the utility room, tinkering away with a coolant valve. "Big talk for a kid who just learned what a carburetor is."

"I thought it was a coffee maker for cars," Daisuke mumbled to you, pouting.

Biting back a laugh, you shot Swansea a grin that practically dared him to roll his eyes. He didn’t disappoint.

Jimmy entered the room, clipboard in hand. His presence had always been grounding, his confidence infectious. He nodded at you as he passed. "Inventory’s in good hands, as usual."

"As if you’d trust anyone else," you replied, your tone light but your chest warming at the compliment. He smirked, tapping the clipboard.

The ship’s intercom crackled to life. "Alright, folks," Curly’s voice boomed. "Buckle up, we're launching at five."

Your hand froze on the console. No matter how many times you’d done this, the Tulpar's jump during the launch always lit something in you. The co-pilot once commented how you're like a puppy with a treat dangling in front of you.

As a kid, you’d been obsessed with the idea of outer space. Not in a “memorizing star charts” kind of way, but in a way where you just admired them every night that you gazed at the night sky.

Whenever you see pictures of galaxies, stars, or any heavenly body, it was like looking at something familiar, something that made sense to you. The outer space wasn’t just an escape; it was home.

Anya appeared at your side, her medical bag slung over one shoulder. She flashed a small smile, a hint of amusement in her eyes. "Let me guess," she said, her voice relaxed. "Gonna watch the Earth fade away again, huh?"

"Every. Damn. Time." You nudged her playfully, earning a laugh.

"Swansea's really rubbing on you with those words."

When the Tulpar lurched, you gripped the edge of the console, your gaze already flicking toward the viewport. For a moment, the universe stretched out in every direction, infinite and vast. You couldn’t help the grin on your face.

Out here, it all felt right. The stars, the ship, the crew… they all came together in a way that felt as natural as breathing. For now, at least, you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

One Month After the Crash

When you thought things were about to get better the night you broke down, helpless, at the lounge... you were desperately wrong. Somehow, the man who betrayed you, the monster you treated as a friend, a mentor—hell, even family—claimed Curly's title and is set loose.

And now? You were cowering at the corner of the utility room, covering your ears as the voices outside grew louder with every passing minute. Funny how one voice made you gag and the other made you feel secure.

“Come on, Swansea. I told you, I’m not gonna hurt Y/N, alrig—”

“If you’ve got a death wish,” Swansea’s voice, low and bristling, cut through the tension. “Keep yappin’.”

It had been a month. A month of watching your back. A month of slipping between rooms, dodging Jimmy’s shadow, a sick game you were forced to play with him. But it was also a month of being under the mechanic’s wing, always having him or Daisuke by your side when checking inventories, because almost facing your deaths just days ago wasn’t enough reason to stop your job. Or being in the locked medbay with Anya when both your guards were busy.

“Look, I just wanna make things right,” Jimmy said, his tone too smooth, too practiced. “Curly’s out of commission, and now, as captain, it’s my job to take responsibility for what I’ve done.”

For a second, your stomach twisted at the pause. Would Swansea actually believe him? Could he? You strained to hear the older man’s reply, then there it was.

It started weak, the soft wheezing sounds went through the metal wall. It grew louder, rougher, until it was a full-blown, bitter laugh that rattled the air. Guilt filled your chest—why would you even ever doubt him after all he's done?

"What a fuckin' joke. Know what? If yer that desperate to play captain, wanna tell me how the ol' Tulpar really crashed?"

Silence. Not even a breath from Jimmy. Then, heavy, angry stomps faded down the hall.

For a solid ten minutes, you stayed frozen, your pulse loud in your ears. The air in the utility room felt thick, clinging to your skin. Then the door hissed open.

“That roach’s got some nerve,” Swansea muttered, stepping inside. His face was carved with exhaustion, but his sharp eyes softened when he met yours. He offered a tired smile, and you returned it, grateful.

"You shouldn’t be out here," Swansea grumbled, his eyes scanning the corridor as he steered you back toward the medbay.

"I’m fine." You tried evading him, but given his bouncer-like body, he placed a hand on your shoulder.

"Sure, and I’m the swan princess from that pink doll kid's show."

The Tulpar floated through infinite space, a shell of its former self. It wasn’t one of those massive freighters like the newer ones Pony Express had, but a running old freighter is infinitely better than a broken old freighter. Supplies were low, tensions were high, and the Tulpar's once-familiar corridors felt more like a prison than home.

When the asteroid hit, or so Jimmy claimed, Curly had supposedly saved everyone by making a split-second turn to minimize the impact. It was a story that gave the crew a shred of hope, something to hold on to.

But cracks already started to form in Jimmy’s tale. The damage didn’t match the trajectory of any known asteroid paths. The ship’s logs were corrupted, erasing any evidence of what really happened.

It wasn't farfetched to believe that Jimmy didn't stay put at his quarters when the crash happened.

Swansea has his suspicions. So did you. But neither of you said it out loud. The truth was a dangerous thing aboard the Tulpar now, fragile and very explosive, just waiting for the right moment to destroy whatever was left.

"Kid," Swansea’s voice broke through your thoughts. You hummed, "Don’t go doin’ that thing where you stare off into space like a lost puppy."

You managed a weak smile. "Can’t help it. Space is kinda my thing."

He snorted, but his eye-roll was absent. He didn’t let you go until he was sure you were back in the medbay, under Anya’s watchful eye and the door's lock.

2 Months before the Crash

Jimmy’s compliments had always felt harmless. You were used to his jokes, his easy smiles, and the way he called you "kid". It was comforting, in a way - until recently.

"Nice shirt," he said one day, leaning casually against the inventory shelves as you logged spare parts into the system.

You glanced down at your standard-issue disgustingly yellow t-shirt, streaked with dust and grease from helping Swansea earlier. "Uh, thanks? Didn’t know grease-stained chic was trending."

He laughed, but it didn’t reach his eyes. "You pull it off, though."

You gave him a half-smile, feeling like the co-pilot has something more to say than he's letting on. His tone felt... heavier. You chalked it up to overthinking and turned back to your work. Jimmy was your friend, someone you’d always trusted.

But somehow, the comments became more frequent, more pointed. A hand on your shoulder lingered too long. Always looking at you when he laughs.

The next time it happened, you were helping the mechanic in the engine room. You crouched next to him, handing over tools as he muttered under his breath about "cheap replacement parts." The rhythmic clank of the wrench echoed in the space while Daisuke watched because the last time he helped replace something, he had to receive 3 stitches from Anya.

"Careful not to scratch the paint off," you teased, smirking.

Swansea snorted, rolling his eyes. "Look who's talkin', Ms. 'I-can-make-any room-look-like-a-fukin' junkyard' with all the shit you leave laying around."

"Ha! Boss' got you there Y/N!" You poked your tongue out at the intern.

Swansea gave you a sideways glance, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You wanna talk about paint? Maybe start by remembering where you put all yer inventory sheets before I have to staple ‘em to yer forehead."

You laughed, wiping your hands on your coveralls, when Jimmy walked in. His gaze lingered too long as he leaned against the doorway.

"Got the inventory finished?" he asked, his voice casual.

"Mostly," you said. "Swansea needed a hand, so I figured I’d multitask."

Jimmy’s eyes narrowed briefly, just a flicker of something you couldn’t quite place. His smile returned, too quick to feel natural. "You’re a real team player, kid."

Swansea grunted in agreement, not looking up. "She’s handy, I’ll give her that. Saved me a headache with these damn filters."

"Hey! I'm here, to--"

"Tell me what happened to yer forehead with just a screwdriver, boy." That seemed to silence Daisuke up.

Jimmy’s jaw tightened, his hand gripping the edge of the doorframe, though he quickly masked it with a chuckle. "Better not let her show you up, old man."

"Not a chance," Swansea shot back, oblivious to the tension.

But you felt it. The way Jimmy’s smile didn’t match his eyes, the way his presence filled the room like static. Something about it was off. You wanted to brush it aside, but the feeling lingered.

Later, in the lounge, Curly tossed you a cup of coffee. "Heard you’ve been pulling double duty with the inventory and the utility. You gunning for my job or what?"

You smirked, shaking your head. "Dream bigger, Curly. I’m aiming for Swansea’s."

Curly laughed, but his attention shifted behind you for a moment. You glanced over your shoulder to see Jimmy standing in the doorway again, watching. His posture was casual, but his knuckles were white where he gripped the edge of the counter.

When you turned back, Curly raised an eyebrow. "Jimmy’s been hovering a lot lately. You notice that?"

You shrugged, trying to sound casual. "He���s probably just bored."

But deep down, you weren’t so sure. You sipped your coffee, forcing a laugh. "One more compliment from him? I’m charging him rent."

Curly chuckled, but his smile faded slightly as he glanced at Jimmy again. "You should tell him that. See what he says."

You smiled weakly, staring into your coffee as the unease settled in your chest.

One Month Before the Crash

Jimmy’s words echoed in your ears, wrapping around your thoughts like a noose.

"I don’t want to hurt you," he said, his voice trembling, his breath uneven. "But I can’t stop thinking about you."

You remembered the way his hands shook, how his eyes flitted between you and the walls, never meeting yours. He looked like he wanted to convince himself as much as you. But it wasn’t the shaking or his words that lingered in your mind, it was the suffocating fear, the way the air in the room thickened, pressing down on your chest until you couldn’t breathe.

You fought back, kicked, punched, scratched, used everything in your disposal, but it wasn't enough.

In that moment, the world felt unrecognizable. The Jimmy you looked up to, trusted, and even laughed with, was gone. Or maybe he had never been real.

And you felt something within you... break.

You didn’t cry. Not then. The betrayal was too sharp, cutting through your chest like shards of glass. You couldn’t feel anything but the raw, jagged edges of shock and pain. It was never-ending, it was unforgiving.

Later, when it was over and the room was silent again, you sat on the floor, knees pulled to your chest, staring at the dull metal wall. The memories replayed in your head, over and over, a loop you couldn’t escape.

"Why didn’t I stop him?"

"Why didn’t I fight harder?"

"Why didn’t I say something?"

The questions bit you, each one sinking its sharp fangs deeper into your guilt, into your body, mind, and soul.

Jimmy’s voice broke through the haze of your thoughts. You remembered how he sat across from you, his voice low and soft, as though he were the one wounded.

"I didn’t mean for it to go like this," he’d said, his tone almost pleading. "You don’t have to hate me, you know? I care about you. I just… I just couldn’t hold it in anymore."

Each word sent a fresh wave of nausea rolling through you. The confusion was unbearable. Was he sorry? Or was this another lie? Another betrayal? It didn’t matter. You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him or yourself anymore.

And from that night on, everything you loved about your life on the ship, the crew, the stars outside your window, even your own reflection, felt like it died.

You went through the days like a ghost. Your laughter was gone, replaced by silence. Meals went untouched. The inventory, your pride and responsibility, piled up unchecked.

The crew noticed. How Swansea’s gruff teasing didn’t make you laugh anymore. How Daisuke’s bad jokes only entered your ear and exited the other. And every time Jimmy walked into the room, your body froze, your skin crawling as though his gaze alone could trap you again.

Anya, however, never pried. She saw through the silence, the robotic movements, the emptiness in your eyes.

One evening, she's nursing you. You sat on the cot, staring at the floor, your hands limp in your lap. You passed out from hunger earlier and Dasiuke had to carry you to the medbay, sweating and frantically assuring himself more than anyone through panicked mumbles.

She approached quietly, a tray of tea and biscuits in hand. "Y/N," she said softly, placing the tray beside you.

You didn’t respond.

Anya pulled up a chair and sat down across from you, her gaze steady. "You have to eat."

"I’m not hungry," you murmured, your voice flat.

She didn’t push. Instead, she reached out, her hand resting gently on your arm. Her warmth cut through the cold numbness you’d wrapped yourself in.

"You know, it’s okay to feel like this," she said quietly. Her tone wasn’t pitying, just kind. "But you don’t have to do it alone."

You didn’t react. You couldn’t. Her words were like waves breaking against a stone, unable to reach its core.

Anya stayed with you anyway. She talked softly, about nothing in particular, old stories, small jokes, telling you how Daisuke stole Swansea's snacks and having to say I'm sorry for a hundred times as punishment. She didn’t expect you to respond. She was simply there, filling the silence with her presence.

Even when you retreated deeper into yourself, Anya never gave up. She left food by your workstation, tidied your quarters when you weren’t looking, and covered for you when Curly asked too many questions.

One night, as Anya walked you back to your quarters, she stopped just outside your door. Her voice, usually gentle, held a weight you hadn’t heard before.

"Y/N," she began carefully, "I’ve been where you are."

Your steps faltered. The numbness you carried didn’t lift, but her words sent a faint ripple through the sea of numbess. You kept your gaze fixed on the floor, your hand tightening on the doorknob.

"I know what Jimmy did to you," she continued softly.

The air in the hallway felt suddenly heavy. Anya hesitated, then added, "It happened to me too. Weeks ago."

The words were like a thunderclap in your mind, sharp and deafening. You turned to her, your eyes wide with disbelief.

"You knew?" Your voice was barely above a whisper, raw and cracking. Anya went through the same thing yet here she is, stronger than you, caring for you. Your stomach churned in guilt. "You—why didn’t you tell anyone? Tell me?"

Anya’s expression didn’t falter, but her shoulders tensed as though she’d been bracing for this. "I told Curly," she admitted, her voice quiet but steady. "But… nothing changed."

Nothing changed.

The words hit like a sledgehammer, shattering the fragile threads of hope you’d been clinging to. Your chest tightened as anger and despair fought for control.

"You told him," you whispered, the words trembling with a pain that reached far deeper than you’d let anyone see.

Anya didn’t look away. She didn’t try to explain or justify it. "I thought it would help," she said, her tone even. "I thought it would stop."

A bitter laugh escaped your lips, sharp and hollow. "And now it’s my turn, right? Cap kept quiet and hoped it wouldn’t happen again?"

"Y/N--"

"Now what, Anya?" You snapped, your voice rising despite the lump in your throat. "What was the point of telling him if it didn’t change anything? He was supposed to be the captain, he was supposed to protect his crew. And no it didn’t stop tha--"

Your words broke off as your breath hitched. The weight of it all, Jimmy’s betrayal, Curly’s silence, Anya’s quiet endurance, crashed down on you like a tidal wave.

Anya reached out, her hand brushing against your arm, but you pulled away.

"I can’t—" you choked out, shaking your head as tears blurred your vision. "Sorry Anya, can I be alone for a moment? Please, don't look for me."

The hallway felt too small, the air too thick. You stumbled back, your legs moving on instinct as you fled toward the lounge, where the empty silence swallowed you whole.

This was where it all unravelled like a predator ripping meats of its prey piece by agonizing piece.

The knife in your trembling hand, the memories replaying in your mind, the feeling of the world collapsing around you, all of it led back to this moment. To the truth you could no longer ignore.

The one person you thought could protect you knows - and he did nothing.

Two Months After the Crash

The cargo bay was dimly lit, the faint hum of the ship's remaining systems filling the silence.

Jimmy had been relentless over the past week, pestering Swansea to let him talk to you about the cargo. Why? Well unlike any other facilities of the freighter that's unlocked by codes visible through the Captain's flashlight, the cargo bay can only be unlocked by a code held by two crewmembers - the captain and inventory officer. Obviously, with Curly laying helpless in the medbay, Jimmy only had one person left to disturb. And the man grabbed the opportunity to talk to you again.

Exhausted, that’s what you were. Tired of Jimmy's persistence, of how he kept shifting from casual then cutting sharper the next. And all these bugging went straight to Swansea. As much as you didn’t want to give the bastard the satisfaction, you knew there was no way around it - you gave in, but not for Jimmy. You did it for the mechanic.

“Are you sure about this?” Swansea asked earlier, his voice low but heavy. The lines on his face deepened as he watched you wrestle with the decision.

You nodded, though your stomach twisted at the thought. “Jimmy’s not going to stop bugging you about it, and you’ve got enough on your plate. I’ll deal with him.”

The mechanic grumbled something under his breath, shaking his head. “I don’t like it. You shouldn’t have to deal with him at all.”

“I know,” you’d said softly. “But he’s not going to stop. And… I’ll have you and Daisuke with me. It’ll be fine.”

Swansea did not looked convinced, but he eventually relented, only after you promised he could stay nearby, just in case.

Now, standing in front of the cargo bay's doors with Jimmy pacing in front of you, you were keenly aware of Swansea’s presence by the door. A silent guard, his watchful eyes never leaving the co-pilot. Daisuke was at your side, arms crossed and radiating quiet protectiveness, like a little brother who didn’t care how big a fight he might have to pick if it meant keeping you safe.

Jimmy, oblivious or indifferent to the tension, took a step forward, his movements quick but not careless. “Y/N, I know you’ve been keeping tabs on the cargo. But it’s been two months. We need to know what’s in there. It could help us—”

“It won’t,” you interrupted, your voice steady but firm. “I’ve told you before, Jimmy. It’s nothing important. We'll just waste our time."

Jimmy’s jaw tightened. “Leave that up to me to decide whether what's in there is important or not."

Swansea cursed under his breath and your lips pressed in a thin line, but the man's gaze didn’t waver.

Daisuke took a step forward. “She’s not wrong. Y/N wouldn’t hide anything if it could help. She knows what she’s doing, Jimmy.”

Jimmy scoffed. “I’m just saying—if there’s even a chance, we should check. We’re running out of options here.”

You sighed, rubbing a hand over your face. “Fine,” you said, exasperated. “You want to see it so badly? Go ahead. Open it. But when you'll find out I’m right, I don’t want to hear another word about it.”

Daisuke frowned but didn’t say anything, glancing at you like he wanted to intervene but knew better than to push. Instead, he stepped closer to your side, his quiet presence grounding you.

Jimmy’s shoulders relaxed slightly, as though he’d won some kind of victory. “Thanks, the code?” he muttered, moving toward the cargo bay doors. Swansea was already there, leaning against the frame with his arms crossed, his sharp gaze locked on Jimmy.

“She said yes,” Jimmy said defensively as he approached, but Swansea didn’t move.

“She shouldn’t have to,” Swansea muttered under his breath, stepping aside only when you gave him a small nod.

"4517" The pad beeped with each number you tell him. The entrance hissed open, like a dragon waking up from its deep slumber.

The cargo bay was dim, the rows of hundreds of boxes towered over all of you. You followed Jimmy inside, Daisuke sticking close to you while Swansea lingered by the door.

The co-pilot walked straight to the nearest box, his movements quick and eager. “Let’s see what’s so ‘unimportant,’” he muttered.

As the box was pried open, the sharp, clinical smell hit instantly.

Mouthwash.

Jimmy froze, staring down at the neatly packed bottles as if they might suddenly transform into something else. Daisuke peered over his shoulder, his eyebrows raising. “Huh. Well, that’s… useful,” he said.

Jimmy’s face burned as he looked back at you. “This is it? You’re telling me this is all we’ve been hauling?”

“I told you. Nothing important. But you couldn’t take my word for it, could you? You know what's funny, Jimmy?" You balled your hands on your sides, "I should be the one not trusting you, after what you've done."

Jimmy stood there, eyes narrowing and jaw clenched. For a moment, it looked like he was gearing up to argue. But it was all so painfully obvious, the desperation in his stance. He wanted to paint himself as the victim, again, to make excuses, again, as if he wasn’t already a pathetic excuse for a man.

You glanced at the box, the sight of the neatly labeled bottles almost comical in its absurdity, mocking the co-pilot. Then your eyes landed at him, his confidence snapping under the weight of his proud insistence.

“Satisfied now?” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but it cut through the tension like a knife. Without waiting for an answer, you turned your back. “This is your answer, Jimmy...”

For the first time since the crash, you felt something crack open inside you, not fear, not guilt, but anger. Controlled, righteous anger.

"We don’t survive by hunches or waiting for some fucking miracle," you spat. "We survive because people are actually out here making sure the Tulpar doesn’t fall apart."

Your eyes met Swansea's, then to the ground.

"Everyone pitches in, does what needs to be done, no matter how much of a death trap the job is. But if you’re too busy playing pretend captain while the rest of us are holding it all together, maybe it’s better that you step back and let the people who actually know how to keep this mess running do their thing."

You didn't wait for a response, not even tried to gauge his emotion. You left the cargo bay, going into the only place that gave you comfort, utility room.

Swansea appeared in the doorway. Before he could speak, before you could even gather your thoughts, you found yourself moving toward him. The words caught in your throat, but your legs carried you anyway, and in one swift motion, you collided with him in a tight hug. The kind you hadn’t realized you needed until the warmth of his body pressed against you.

“Thanks for everything," You paused, and before you could stop it, the words slipped out. "...dad."

For a moment, everything went still. The hum of the damaged Tulpar only filling the air, and for one fleeting second, you feared you said too much. That you crossed a line, said something you didn’t have the right to say.

But then, without a word, his arms wrapped around you, solid and sure, holding you like he was never going to let go. The tension in your chest slowly released and a stray tear rolled down your cheek.

“Always, kid.” His voice was low, thick with meaning, and at that moment, it held everything you needed to hear.