"Simon- Simon please we need to leave!" You pleaded, your grip tight on the seat as he stood nearby, his eyes blown wide as he stared at the speaker before him as if coming to a realization, one you weren't aware of. If it wasn't for the sudden pounding in your head, which you assumed he was suffering from as well but was somehow masking it a lot better than you were, then the voices you were hearing surely clouded his own sense of hearing as they whispered and spoke the same promises to you both.

"Something isn't right- We shouldn't be here!" You pleaded once more as you attempted to move closer to him, your hand outstretched to grab his arm but the sudden throbbing in your head only worsened and you winced, moving your hands to grip at your head as the voices all but continued their sickly promises and talks about god, causing you to slowly curl into yourself as they grew louder.

"Simon-" You whispered as his gaze finally turned to you, immediately moving to be by your side before the sub was suddenly jostled forward, the movement so rough that it caused you to lose your footing and for your head to slam onto the corner of the console, your body going limp as you fell onto the metal flooring of the sub. Your vision swam as Simon crouched over you, having tripped but caught himself on the console unlike yourself. He yelled your name, you knew he was yelling because you saw his lips move yet your ears didn't register his words. The panic that grew in his eyes as he reached out to cradle your cheek to try and keep you awake as the sub was jostled once more, causing him to catch himself by extending his arms out beside your head and glare towards the front of the sub. Your vision slowly faded to black despite your best efforts to not fall unconscious, the voices slowly leaving you as you drifted off into a rather peaceful darkness.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

You felt something wet against your cheek; Not once, not twice, but three different times. You'd let out a small noise as you began to shift, your body all but aching and your head still pounding. If you were dead, surely you wouldn't be feeling this much pain, right? Let alone something wet against your cheek. Slowly you opened your eyes, trying to adjust them to the rather dull lighting in whatever room you were in, your ears slowly growing accustomed to the low humming of what sounded like technology around you. What really caught your eye though was the furry creature standing over you. It's fur, from what you could tell in the dark, was this pale golden color though most of it seemed to be hidden under a bright orange jumpsuit that hung off her frame loosely, her tongue hanging out of the corner of her mouth as she breathed heavily against your face.

Well, at least it wasn't an underwater mutated monster. You'd take the little win there and even allowed your head to fall back against the floor, your eyes shutting yet again as you began to relax against the rather cool flooring. Wait- Furry creature?

You suddenly sat up despite your body all but screaming in protest at the sudden action, the creature before you taking a few steps back before she happily sat before you, her tail wagging across the floor below her. So many questions ran through your mind as you stumbled ungracefully to your feet, your gaze finally being torn off the fuzzy looking creature and falling on your surroundings; You certainly weren't in the sub, that much was for sure. Everything was… Clean. New, almost; Not a single speck of rust coated any of the walls, the server towers behind you were what illuminated the room in a light blue color as they hummed with electricity and a warmth that was pleasant unlike the submarine where it felt like you were on the surface of the sun.

"Where am I…?" You began to question before a new if not more important question crossed your mind as you began to quickly look around the room, spinning at least once or twice and almost loosing your footing in the process.

'Where's Simon?'

You were about to move to try and find him but didn't take into account just how sick you felt, the room suddenly began to spin as you raised an arm to brace yourself on one of the server towers nearby, making a pained face as everything hit you at once. Your body ached in all the worst ways, your head continued to pound from where it had collided with the console on the sub, and the previous injuries you sustained while within the submarine were still very much present. You could only let out a shaky breath as you shut your eyes for just a few moments, though none of the pain ever subsided. As if sensing your pain, the creature whined and moved closer to you after rising to her paws, gently nudging your free hand as if to get your attention.

You looked down towards the creature through half lidded eyes, your brows furrowing together as you tried to get your thoughts straight. You needed to find Simon, that was top priority right now. After that you would attempt to figure out where you were and what this rather adorable looking creature was beside you. You were ripped from your thoughts just as they began to form though as you heard voices outside the door, the sound of boots on metal growing closer to the very room you were in. Not long after, the door let out a hiss as it opened to allow entry to whoever it was.

"Come on Chica, don't tell me you ran off in here again. You know you're not suppose… Too…" The man spoke, stepping foot into the room to look around before his gaze landed on you and his sentence fell into a long silence. His frame remained in the doorway, his eyes wide as he took in your rather beaten and ragged form through the light that shined in through the hallway. It honestly made your head hurt even more, but you wouldn't risk taking your eyes off this strange man.

"You're not Chica." He simply stated before he looked down towards the creature you now knew as Chica, who all but wagged her tail and made her way over to the man in excitement. She nuzzled against his hand before she turned to look at you with a small whine, her gaze flickering up to the male beside her in worry. Confusion quickly found it's way to your face as you slowly took in the features of this man who, for some very strange reason, seemed to resemble the very same man you were looking for. Same height, same features, though his hair was much shorter under the bright orange beret he wore atop his head.

"Simon…?" You questioned as you slowly straightened out; Had the alcohol you drank within that med-kit finally kicked in? Or perhaps it was the radiation poisoning? Or maybe even the lack of oxygen. Regardless of which reason it was, this man looked eerily similar to Simon but the look on his face after you mentioned the name clearly told you this man was not him.

"Simon? Who the hell is Simon?" The man questioned as he crossed his arms, cocking his head ever so slightly to the left as he continued his sentence. "Better question is who are you and how did you get into the server room?"

"I don't… I don't know how I got here." You answered truthfully, moving to take a step forward before your knees all but gave out under you and you began to fall. You allowed your eyes to shut and your body braced for impact, though you quickly realized you never collided with the ground and instead fell into something. Or better yet someone. As you opened your eyes again, you shifted your gaze to the ground below before you turned your head to look at the man who, for some unknown reason, had stepped forward to catch you in his arms. You both remained in silence, just staring at each other intently before he began to clear his throat. Was that a faint blush you saw dusting his cheeks or had you gone crazy?

"You um, you really don't look to good." He inquired after having gotten a really good look at you; The main thing that grabbed his attention was the blood that ran down the right side of your head, the glazed look in your eyes also added onto it. Most of the blood looked dried from what he could tell, but there was still a nasty gash left behind that if not treated sometime soon would surely get infected.

"Given the fact that you just fell trying to take a single step, I'll just go ahead and carry you to the medical bay." He began as he shifted you into his arms, lifting you up bridal style before he adjusted you accordingly and continued his sentence. "We can discuss everything after you've gotten looked at and taken care of. Hopefully the Captain doesn't mind…" He muttered the last sentence under his breath, hoping you were too delirious to actually hear him before he turned and made his way out of the server room, the door opening with a hiss as he left with Chica following closely behind.

You wanted to argue with him, tell him you could walk just fine on your own and most certainly didn't need to be taken to any kind of medical bay, but after moving into the brightly lit hallway against your will, you decided to just shut your mouth as your head all but pulsed in pain as your eyes tried their best to adjust to the sudden change. You shut your eyes in an attempt to block out the light but it did little to no difference as the man walked under overhead lighting. After some annoyance, you decided to bury your face into the mans jumpsuit to try and make your surroundings as dark as possible which honestly seemed to help even if it was just for a fraction of a second. You heard hushed whispers as he carried you along, most likely from other people who inhabited this place, but at this moment you really couldn't give a damn what anyone had to say.

By the time you both had reached the medical bay, you had somehow fallen asleep against the man. He honestly hesitated in placing you down onto the medical bed, sensing some sort of need to keep you close to him, to protect you from… Something, but he couldn't place a finger on exactly what it was. Regardless, he reluctantly placed you down onto the bed to allow the medical team to being their assessment over you. He never left, only lingering in the corner of the room and out of the medical teams way as he kept a close eye on them, ensuring they never overstepped any kind of boundary that may even make himself uncomfortable. Throughout it all, Chica remained right at his side, as if she was waiting for her new friend to wake. He'd be around when you woke to answer any and all questions you may have had for him, though he still wanted his own questions answered. Like just where did you come from? Why did you look like you fought in a war of some kind? And just who the hell was Simon?

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

"And this is the Invincible II, my pride and joy." The man, who you've come to know as Mark, spoke with a wide grin as you adjusted the jumpsuit you had been given to get you changed out of those nasty, blood stained clothes you wore earlier. Whatever medicine this space ship had, it did wonders for you. You felt a thousand years younger and any pain you had felt earlier had long since gone. Sure you still had some bandages wrapped tightly around your head where the gash was from and across your forearms to cover up some of the cuts you received while on the sub, but the medicine didn't exactly instantly heal wounds. Regardless of that fact, you still felt fantastic.

"So… We're in space?" You questioned as you turned to look at Mark who nodded at your question.

"We are. Lightyears away from any known planet or solar system that we've been able to actually log but I assure you we're on the right course." He informed you as you slowly nodded, trying to take it all in at once. Somehow, someway, you ended up on a spaceship known as the Invincible II which was currently on a journey to take over 100,000 colonists in cryogenic suspension to a new planet to begin anew.

"And… All the planets and stars are still here? None are missing?" You questioned again, watching as Mark's face contorted into one of pure confusion as he gently petted Chica who sat nearby; Mark had kindly informed you that the 'fuzzy creature' you kept mentioned was none other than a dog named Chica who, to your suspire, was also a very valuable member of the crew. He had begun to spiral into insanity when you mentioned that where you were from, animals had long since disappeared. Little did he know the current question you were asking was about to send him into an even bigger spiral of insanity.

"Missing?" He said with a laugh before continuing. "Why would they go missing? I mean, sure the stars die out every so often but nothing ever just… Vanishes." He finished, looking at you as if you had grown another head or suddenly sprouted teeth along the side of your head.

"Where I'm from an event known as the Quiet Rapture happened… All the habitable planets and stars just suddenly… Vanished. We were forced to live on space stations just floating about space." You informed him which caused him to fall silent real quick, his eyes growing wide.

"Wait wait wait- Just suddenly vanished?" He questioned as you nodded, adjusting the fingerless gloves you were given before you sat yourself back down onto the medical bed, looking down at Chica as she all but forced her furry body between your legs, her head resting against you as she sat herself down. You couldn't help the small smile that graced your lips as you gently reached out to pet her, your fingers running through her soft fur as her tail swiped across the floor below her.

"Vanished without a trace. It's what forced a group known as the COI to begin investigating leftover moons for any sign of life or information as to what occurred." You began, making a pained face as you kept your gaze on Chica who began to sense your unease and anxiety and moved even closer to you.

"I was apart of Eden," You began, motioning to the tattoo that was burned off the side of your neck, "one of the larger space stations at the time that contained the last few trees in the universe. Eventually with lack of resources, the COI and Eden clashed which… Caused a fight that lasted quite a few days." You continued to tell your tale to Mark, though you never dared to lift your head to look at him and decided to keep your gaze on the fluffy companion between your legs. In a way she brought you some comfort as you told Mark your rather traumatic and depressing past.

"The fight ended on Filament Station when it exploded. The COI arrested me and Simon as a result despite our surrender and enrolled us within the conviction realization program. In that program, we were sent to explore AT-5, a moon that contained an ocean of blood, in a submarine that they welded us into. At first things were fine for awhile but little did we know something was living down there… In the end, after so much damage to the submarine and to ourselves, we were led to something that we thought was another person who could help us escape. But I guess that resulted in me being here." You finished recalling it all to Mark, though flashbacks began to hit you as hard as you hit your head on the console in that sub.

Flashbacks to you and Simon being welded into that sub, of the blood ocean itself, of the monster that hunted you down like sport just to drive you to the point of insanity so you'd become a part of Her in the end, of the so-called Light you and Simon made your way towards after the COI had all but deemed you both dead. It made your stomach churn and your heart ache the more you recalled, just where was Simon? Was he somewhere on this ship with you? Perhaps he was transported to a inhabitable planet where he was safe, somewhere nice with tall trees and lush green grass where he could live out his life in peace.

"That... That sounds really rough… I'm so sorry that happened to you and your companion." Mark said with an exhale of breath, his eyes never leaving your form as you just fell silent and continued to stare Chica down, almost as if you were in some kind of trance. He didn't know exactly what to say. I mean, who does after being hit with that much information all at once? Not to mention it wasn't the good kind of information either.

He barely knew you yet you were more than willing to tell your story to him, to place that trust in him and he was glad that you did. He wanted to understand you better, to get to know you more, to find ways to help you through whatever it was you just came from. You wouldn't be leaving this ship anytime soon, that much he knew. Like he said earlier, the Invincible II was far away from any inhabitable planet that they could leave you at, so you'd just have to become part of the crew. He just hoped that the Captain would be alright with the idea.

Just as he was going to speak, shouting could be heard from the hall. A voice Mark hadn't heard before but clearly you knew who it belonged to with the way you suddenly sprang from the bed, scaring Chica in the process.

"Don't fucking touch me!" The voice shouted from the hall, rough and hoarse and overall just exhausted. You knew that voice; It was Simon. Quickly you dashed out of the medical bay, following the commotion with Mark right behind you. By the time you turned the next corner, a yelp was ripped from your throat as you stumbled backwards but quickly caught yourself this time. Looking up at what you collided with, your eyes widened immediately.

"Simon!" You exclaimed, quickly wrapping your arms around his frame as you buried your head against his chest, even if he did still wreak of blood. His body tensed as you suddenly engulfed him in a hug, his breathing ragged as he tried to comprehend just what was happening and just who was touching him.

"Starlight…?" Simon spoke as his vision finally became clear, wrapping his arms around you as he pulled you in close to him, burying his head into your hair and tightening his hold mere seconds after when he began to realize you were actually here. You were safe, you were real and not some trick his mind was playing on him; He could smell the fresh shampoo in your hair, the smell of antiseptics on you from your injuries and overall, he could feel your heart beating. It was enough to finally force his body to relax.

His thoughts began to leave him as he realized you weren't stuck in that blood ocean, welded into that sub alone without him and on the verge of death. Slowly his body began to go limp against you as the exhaustion finally caught up to him, causing you to squeak as Simon passed out against you. You struggled to keep his large frame up, but Mark was quick to help you lift him and carry him to the medical bay without another word spoken. Mark had a lot more questions that yet again needed to be answered, at least this time you were awake so he could ask them.

You had kindly asked Mark and those within the medical team to stay outside the room after Simon had been properly treated; You didn't want to risk him getting violent with the few people who were kind enough to actually patch you both up and not throw you out into the vacuum of space. Mark gladly ushered the medical team out after your request, telling you that it was no worry at all and gave him time to quickly run an errand while you waited on Simon to wake.

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

Currently you were sat in a seat beside Simon's bed, his hand in your own as you gently ran your thumb over the back of it as you quietly looked him over. Similar to yourself his forearms had been bandaged tightly to help the healing process of the wounds he suffered, and although the remainder of his body seemed to be clear of any other noticeable injuries, there was this lingering scar across the bridge of his nose that flushed the skin there a faint red. You were almost certain it was some effect from the blood on AT-5 that had shot across his face and into his eye, but the medical team had assured you no harm would come from it though it would remain like that for the remained of his life.

You couldn't help the shaky breath that escaped you as you released your hold on Simon's hand, putting your head into your own hands as you shut your eyes upon feeling the sudden flush of welling tears. You had found Simon and, for the most part, he was safe. You were both safe, but something inside you didn't feel safe. Was it really that simple? That you both managed to escape that hell hole without something much more serious happening? What would happen to everyone else that was left behind? Would that thing be able to find you all the way out here? Wherever here was? The more and more your mind thought, the more and more you began to spiral as you tried to come to some kind of understanding of it all.

It was all too much in the end, your body began to shake as you did your best to conceal the broken sobs that escaped you in your seat though even that was becoming difficult. You were exhausted, both mentally and physically and honestly? You prayed to whatever god was out there that this was the peace of mind both you and Simon deserved, the freedom you both so desperately wanted. Through your sobbing, you didn't even hear as Simon began to stir in his bed, his gaze snapping awake when he began to hear your quiet sobs.

"Starlight? Hey hey... What's wrong?" Simon spoke quietly, shifting in the bed to gently reach out and place his hands over your own; Despite having just woken up, you were his first and only priority. He could figure out the rest later with you beside him. Your gaze suddenly snapped up onto him, tears still vividly falling from your eyes as you attempted to speak, but it was as if the air in your very lungs was ripped away from you. Simon could only frown seeing the tears, his thumbs moving to wipe away the tears before he shifted and pulled you in close to him. He felt you bury your head within his neck, felt the tears begin to soak the shirt he was given for the time being and it made his heart ache at hearing your hiccups and sobs.

"We're alright… We're gonna be fine… Shh shh…" Simon began to console you, gently rubbing your back as he swayed you both from his spot on the bed. To be quite honest, he wasn't sure if you both were gonna be alright. You were somewhere entirely new, in a galaxy he was almost positive neither of you could plot on any type of star map, with a crew that neither of you were able to fully trust. Despite that, Simon would tell you whatever lies you needed to hear because regardless of the situation, you both were together and he was okay with that. You'd get through this crazy adventure together, one way or another, just as you were doing together back in the sub.

After several long minutes, your sobbing died down to quiet sniffles which caused Simon to gently move his hands to your shoulders and push you away just enough to see your face. He quickly took notice of your reddened eyes, the tear stains that ran down your cheeks and moved his hands back to your cheeks to gently rub at your eyes and any remaining tears that lingered.

"How do you feel now?" He questioned to which you hummed, moving your hands over his once more as you spoke in a hushed voice.

"Better… Thank you, Simon…" You informed him, gracing him with one of your small smiles. Simon couldn't help but return the smile, bringing you down to gently press a kiss to your forehead.

"You're welcome."

· · ─ ·✶· ─ · ·

After your little session in the medical bay, Mark was kind enough to get Simon a jumpsuit of his own to match your own; Dark in color as if to match the clothes you and Simon had previously worn while on the sub, a pair of fingerless gloves and a new pair of black combat boots. Simon was quick to grab the medallion you both had found within the submarine and after several questions from Mark, tied it back around his wrist without another word. Attached to your jumpsuits were quickly made tags that Mark insisted everyone needed to have. You could only guess that it helped keep tabs of everyone on the ship, or perhaps sorted them into their respective departments.

Simon's simply read 'S0013' which you couldn't help but snort at; Regardless of where you were at, it would seem the numbers of that submarine would haunt your remaining days for however long you lived. Simon even asked Mark what the chances were of getting a new number, but Mark just gave him a questionable look and went about making your tag which read 'R5140.' You weren't quite sure what it stood for, but honestly you just shrugged your shoulders and went about it without a care in the world.

Once you both were ready, Mark began to lead you guys through a series of halls, informing you both that you would be meeting the Captain of the ship and they would be the one to decide whether you both could stay or if something else would occur, but he did his best to assure you that the Captain was a nice person and that they wouldn't dare do anything of the sort to cause you both harm. Regardless, it had your mind racing but before it could spiral out again, Simon was quick to distract you as he lanced his fingers with your own, giving your hand a gentle squeeze of reassurance. It relaxed you in mere seconds and you moved yourself close to Simon's side out of instinct.

It took quite awhile and you passed through several parts of the ship that interested you, but eventually you three stood just outside the main doors that lead into the main control room. Mark turned to face you both with a rather serious expression, something that just didn't look right on his usual cheerful face as you had noted thus far.

"Are you ready?" He questioned, his hands on his hips. You and Simon could only glance at each other before looking at Mark and nodded. He flashed a quick grin, spinning on his heel before he placed his hand on the panel beside the door. It opened with a hiss and the dual doors opened wide to reveal the large control room. Various screens littered the walls, a large control panel in the center of the room where someone stood with their back turned to the both of you, but that wasn't what grabbed at your attention.

It was the large window that looked directly out into space. You heard Simon's breathing hitch, your eyes growing wide as you stared out into space, at all the stars that littered its dark sky. It was beautiful and it simply took your breath away; You honestly hadn't realized just how long it had been since you've seen a sky full of stars like that. It left both you and Simon distracted long enough that you didn't even hear the person clear their voice in front of you. Snapping out of the daze you fell in, you turned your attention the person before you who, for some odd reason, wore a helmet to hide their face. Their jumpsuit was certainly extravagant and very clearly read 'I'm the Captain.'

"Captain," Mark began, now standing beside them and motioning to you and Simon. "These are the two I was telling you about earlier."

The Captain turned their attention from Mark to you and Simon, taking a step forward and extending a hand to you. "It's a pleasure to finally meet the two that are causing such a ruckus on my ship… May I put a name to a face?" They questioned and Simon was the first to act, taking the Captain's hand in his own after letting go of your own hand.

"I'm Simon. This is [Y/N]." Simon told the Captain, motioning to you at the mention of your name. It felt weird hearing it fall from Simon's lips, so used to the nickname he had given you. You gave a small nod of your head towards the Captain, taking their hand after Simon had let go.

"It's nice to meet you. I apologize for any trouble we may have caused you and your crew…" You apologized, though you weren't exactly sure for what. It just felt like the right thing to do; You wanted to make a good impression after all to ensure you both could stay. The Captain only let out a laugh at your response which caused you to blink.

"Ah please- We could use a little excitement here every once in awhile, though with Mark around there seems to be enough of that." The Captain informed you which left Mark slightly blushing at the comment, completely lost for words as any remark seemed to die on his tongue. It caused a small laugh to escape your frame while Simon let out a small grunt of a laugh.

"Regardless, Mark had informed me of your… Situation." The Captain's tone switched to something more serious which had you and Simon standing at attention, your hearts all but pounding in your chests. You were pretty good at reading people's faces but with that helmet on, you couldn't tell just what the Captain was feeling or possibly thinking and it made your heart pound even harder in your chest.

"I would like to propose something to you both. A deal, if you will." They began and Simon immediately began to make a face; He was tired of deals, tired of false promises that fell on deaf ears. Seeing the face Simon made, the Captain quickly added on. "I promise it will benefit all of us in the long run."

"Go on." You urged the Captain, already getting squeamish in your boots the longer they took to answer.

"You both help out around the ship. Whether it's with Mark and the other engineers or perhaps with the astroid defense systems. Whatever you're good at, I want you there." The Captain began, shifting their weight as they held their hands behind their back, looking between you and Simon. "If you can't find something to help in, we'll find you something to do. In return, you are allowed voyage upon my ship. Whatever you need we shall provide. Seem fair?" The Captain finished.

You turned your head to look at Simon who in return did the same; It was as if a silent conversation was happening between you both but in reality it was a simple answer to give. There was nowhere else to go unless they decided to kick you both out into space and as nice as it would be to see the stars again on a closer level, you'd like to do so within the confines of a spaceship. Turning to look at the Captain, you gave a nod and extended your hand out to them. "You have a deal."

The Captain must surely be smiling under that helmet because as they took your hand, they spoke in a rather joyful tone.

Top, Bottom, or Switch?

Damien- Switch

So I feel like Damien would depend on the day

Like I feel like he would love to lay back and let you take the lead after a long, hard day as the Mayor

Letting you tie him up, use him however you need

But he would also be so down to top

I can picture it now

Him making you get off on his thigh or shoe or something because he is too busy with his work

Being "mean" and using his "Mayor Voice" with you when you are too needy

oml making you hump his cane

anyways...

he would be a switch, but I feel like he would prefer bottom most of the time!

Darkiplier- Top

Branching off of Damien, I feel like Dark would top most of the time, if not ALL of the time

Don't get me wrong the idea of putting him in his place is VERY pleasant (for everyone involved)

But I don't think he would be able to let his guard down enough to do that

I don't see him as a "hard dom" or anything like that

Because I headcanon him as a major dork who is lowkey shy and very obsessed with you

and gets flustered by you really easy

BUT

he would never be able to let go enough, no matter how long you have been together, to let you top him

but he would really like the idea

Wilford- Bottom

I have seen TOO MUCH top Wilford to let this go on any further

LOOK at that man and tell me he doesn't want to be tied up and used

He wants not just a top, but a dom.

He wants nothing more than to let you take care of him

I physically can not see him topping anyone

He, like Dark, would get flustered by you so easy omg

Anyways, bottom Wilford supremacy please and thank you

Engineer Mark- Bottom

This man would do anything for you

Which includes topping you if you wanted...

but he would only ever really like bottoming

Engie is smitten, we all know this

The only time I could see him "topping" would be if he gets genuinely angry at you and it is a hate-fuck sort of situation

But on average he isn't going to do anything but bottom

Like Damien, the thought of you taking the lead—of wanting him enough to initiate and take the lead—is the hottest think in the world to him

Actor Mark- Top

Let's be real he is only using you for his pleasure

Unless he really really likes you, he is using whatever you have to get himself off

You will, 9 times out of 10, be sucking him off

But when you have actual sex, he is taking the reins

He is always in control, and don't you forget that

...

seriously. if you try to top him he will get offended.

Like "oh do I not get you off well enough as is? do you have to tell me what to do because i don't do well enough"

and then sulk for a few days before crawling back to you like nothing happened and fucking you senseless

Simon- Switch

Our good 'ol convict :)

The reason I say switch is because I think it depends on the point in his life

His "Butcher" days? Top 100%

Quick fucks in a bathroom or supply closet where he ghosts you the next day

No. You can't take the lead. He doesn't have time for that.

He has stuff to do, and you are the least of his priorities

So he will top. And if you don't like that? Leave. He'll find someone else. He always does.

Post-Arrest/Convict Simon? True switch.

This man wants to be held, but understands if another convict also wants that

Torn between Convict!Simon who will take charge and fuck you senseless in the span of 10 minutes versus Convict!Simon who will cum in his pants because you demanded he lie down and kissed him on the forehead...

And then there is after the events of iron lung.

He wins back his freedom, and finally settles down

Finds a S/O, maybe gets married, maybe even has kids

But one thing is for certain, this man will bottom forever

He wants to be held

To be told what to do, but in a sweet way

He wants you to demand he lays down on the bed and "take it" while kissing him from head to toe

He just wants to feel loved

Useful

Like you aren't going to leave him

I think he needs therapy

Yancy- Top

Yancy was harder for me to figure out

I feel like he would be fine with you thinking you are taking the lead, but would never actually relinquish his control

if that makes sense

He is very soft, though

Very careful

He wouldn't ever say anything to you that would come across as mean or anything

He would be very polite with it

"Please lay down, dollface"

"Fuck, get on your knees f'me, doll, please"

Always saying please and thank you as he fucks your brains out and pins you against the mattress, yk?

Heist Mark- Switch

I think it, again, depends on where you are with Heist Mark atp

Like, is it in the beginning of AHWM when you are annoying the fuck out of him?

Constantly trying to stick together?

Eyes wide, face flushed every time he so much as looks at you?

Yeah. Top. 100%

He would top you just to get you to shut the fuck up

Maybe so he could slip away while you are reeling from the aftermath of fucking in a sewer or something equally insane

But he really wouldn't be able to slip away

Not after he sees you so helpless, so completely fucked out

Anyways

When you get to know each other a bit better

Maybe after a few near-death experiences...

He gets soft on you

Well- soft may not be the best word to describe him around you...

But ykw i mean

He would mainly bottom

Let you take care of him

Climb into his lap after you wake up the next morning after you steal that jeep from the museum

Thanking him for making breakfast for the two of you.

God he looks good in that apron

(yes i still count that as Heist mark... technically most of these guys are actor so who cares)

Illinois- Top

Not a whole lot to say about Illinois tbh

He's pretty much a "what you see is what you get" sort of guy

I think he is like Dark a lot in the way that he would ALWAYS top, but would secretly want to bottom

But I feel like he would really enjoy topping

Like

A lot

He is just a cocky, kinky bastard who loves to make people, especially you, scream his name

Kinks? Or Fetishes?

(for reference, kinks are something that help you get off, while fetishes are something you need to get off- brief explanation but just in case you were confused)

Damien

I think he is a very vanilla man

I don't think he has any fetishes tbh

A few kinks, though (because who doesn't?)

I feel like he would like latex? Idk it's just a vibe i get from him

But like only a little latex

Like you wearing a latex suit? Think catwoman vibes

I think he would also be really into puppy play/ pet play

But for you

He would give you a crate in his office with a dog bowl for water and like, toys and stuff

Make you sit in just your underwear and a collar with a little bell on it

Underwear if you're lucky

I think he would so get off on clicker training you omg my world has opened up to this possibility

Clicker training you to crawl over to his desk and suck him off whenever he gets a little stressed

The bell on your collar tink-ing every time you move

Light bondage would also be a kink for Damien

I don't think he would be into either of you being super intricately tied up

But maybe tie him up to the bedframe using his belt, or vice versa?

I think he would find that so fucking hot omg

Other than that maybe public stuff?

But I also feel like that would be a secret idea he enjoys on his own

He would be too flustered and nervous to actually be able to pull it off, I think

Darkiplier

Good lord what is this man not into?

He would genuinely be up to try anything with you i feel

Are you into it? Cool. So is he.

On his own, however, I feel like he would be into everything Damien is but 10x more hardcore.

Pet play?

You are crawling around 24/7 as his own personal kitty

He calls? you come

But he would be less gentle that damien with it, i fear,

Like, if you disobey enough, or he finds you difficult to "train"?

Shock collar (like the ones for dogs..)

You want to be a brat and not come when he clicks? Well prepare to be shocked

The reason it is a kink more than fetish for him is bc I don't think he would need this

If you aren't into it at all, he can drop it

You want to know what he can't drop?

Like to the point where he won't come unless this is involved?

Overstimulation, and it's very dear cousin, edging.

He genuinely won't cum unless he edges you/overstimulates you

He doesn't have to do both

But god would he love to

No matter what happens, be prepared for a 3+ hour session of him either making you cum over and over and over again until you are a writhing mess, or edging you a billion times until you are a sobbing, pleading wreck for him

Seriously can't get off without it

On that note, he loved when you cry

Not in a mean, evil way

No.

He wants you to feel so good you can't do anything but cry

He wants to break you just so he can put you back together again!

Wilford

He is into those beautiful bdsm bondage things.

I think it is called Kinbaku or something

Anyways, he is SUPER into that

honestly, anything to do with art or creating he would love to bring into the bedroom.

He is, inherently, a creative person

Being able to tie you (yes, even though he is a bottom he wouldn't find it nearly as fun being tied up that intricately, since he wouldn't be able to see it) into beautiful knots like that would be a dream come true

I don't even think most of his kinks are inherently sexual, if that makes sense?

He just sees a beauty in the thinks people (especially you) create

I think he would also be into gun play

Yes, i know, big jump from making pretty knots lol

But he would never actually load the gun... maybe... probably.

Yeah you would play russian roulette once while having sex and then the gun would actually go off missing you by an inch and he would never bring it up again

BUT he would absolutely get off on you making him suck off a gun while fucking.

OR pressing a gun to his head while fucking.

OR a gun even being in the room while, you guessed it, fucking.

On the same note as both, I feel like knife play would work for him

Like, in the sense that you are cutting patterns into his bare skin

He would love to bare the scars of your creations

He wants to be littered with what you create

Adding onto this... marking

Mark that man UP

Hickeys, cutting him, biting him

Hell, piss on the man for all he cares

Just do whatever you can to make sure everyone, including himself, knows he is YOURS

Engie

I want to say something that might get me crucified ngl

But maybe, potentially, electro-shock play? (idk what it would be called)

Maybe it starts bc one day you, captain, are making your rounds and come across your beloved head engineer trying, desperately, to fix something.

You are about to pass by him when there is a big spark, which shocks him, making him make the most delicious sounds

You know that he was literally shocked by live wires... but god the moans that poured out of him from it

He never knew that something so painful could be so hot when you were doing it to him.

Atp buy him a shock collar.

OMG wait—

He would be into pet play but where he is your pet

Give this man a collar and a leash and he will be yours for eternity (as if he isn't already)

His dick would be so hard just by you saying "good boy" when he fixes something, his metaphorical tail wagging

He has both a praise kink and a degradation kink

Or would it be more of a fetish?

Yeah, change that font to red baby

You need to praise that man, tell him how good he's doing for you, or else he won't be able to get off

He can get hard from just your touch, yeah, but actually cumming?

Has to be called a good boy to do it. Them's the rules.

OR he has to be told how much a dirty boy he's being

Degrade that man until he's brought to tears because he knows he's being bad, he just can't help it.

Actor Mark

Intox kink.

Actor will fucking drown you in alcohol or pills or whatever he can get his hands on before absolutely wrecking you

His fat cock wedged inside you while he shoves a bottle of whiskey into your mouth

Gets off on not just the fact that you are so sloppy drunk/high that you can't even think straight, but that you are just letting him do whatever he wants to you

You are just sitting there, looking up at him all doe eyed while he pours tequila down your throat.

You could say no, you could always say no, and he would absolutely respect that

But you don't

And you won't

And he can't get enough of it

I feel like he would also have a breeding kink

NOT because he wants to get you pregnant (if you even can be). GOD no. the last thing he wants is another fucking kid to pay for

But the thought of you being so fucking full of him is something he can't stay away from.

The thought of you dripping with his cum, which he then pushes back into you with his fingers, will make him cum on the spot

He also has to degrade you.

He can't help it that you're just a dirty little slut, letting him cum inside you

That you're a fucking whore, wrapping your mouth around him like that.

He can't cum unless he does it, so if you don't like it idk what to tell you (I fear he cares about his pleasure more than yours, sorry)

Simon

I am going to focus on post-iron lung simon, because anything else would be completely different (i can do the butcher and convict!simon in a separate post if you are interested/have even read this far lol)

i think this man need to have a therapy kink. king, go to therapy. king, be loved. love fetish.

jokes aside, I think he would be fairly vanilla post-lung.

I like the thought of him having a breeding kink

Knowing you are his forever person, and wanting to tie you to him forever so you can never leave.

Not to the extent of poking holes in condoms (realistically, even though that is kinda hot), but moreso you fucking yourself on him and begging him to breed you gets him off so much

I think knowing you love him so much that you would let him cum inside you has to be the best thing in the world to him.

But also...

virginity kink??

Like yeah... he wants you to take the reins, to be on top.

He wants to be with you forever...

but that doesn't mean he doesn't get off on being able to be your first everything, when so much of his firsts were taken from him.

Being able to make your first time slow, and good, and beautiful, where his was haste and rushed in between whatever Eden wanted him to do means so much to him

He also like the dirty feeling it gives him that he is literally all of your experiences. No other man or woman has touched you like he has. And nobody ever will. It's like you were created just for him, and oh fuck does that turn him on.

He also loves being praised.

Makes him cum immediately.

Seriously. First time you called him a good boy he came in his pants at dinner. Untouched. Yeah.

I don't think he would really have a fetish, sadly. I just don't think he would have experienced enough that made him feel good enough to form a fetish.

Maybe eventually one of the kinks will turn fetish, who knows?

Yancy

Bondage, bondage, and more bondage.

He loves it so much it is a borderline fetish

Not in the same way as Will, but more in a rough and fast sort of way.

Ripping a shirt apart to tie up your hands, for instance

Using your panties/underwear to tie them together, even

Shoving your underwear in your mouth as a gag is a big one for him omg. Shoving his underwear in your mouth as a gag... wow

Handcuffs, which i fear is obvious given it is Yancy, is a super extra turn on compared to everything else.

If you guys are in prison together, he's stealing a pair of cuffs just to handcuff you later.

He likes to toy with you by saying he lost the key/forgot to steal it once you are handcuffed to whatever he handcuffed you to

This one might be a bit more... unconventional to the general audience...

piss kink?

DONT SHOOT. PLEASE HEAR ME OUT.

It's not like he wants you to piss in his mouth or anything, right?

just maybe... all over his dick?

He makes you drink like, a gallon of water before he fucks you. Within like, an hour before?

"Yous's dehydrated, dollface. Gotta drink up f'me, yeah?"

Pressing on your bladder while he fucks the shit outta you, just to act surprised when you piss while he shoved his dick so far inside you.

I know, i know, im a disgusting piss freak monster. Shoot me down.

Heist Mark

He is a brat tamer through and through

sorry not sorry

you are going to tell me he wasn't about to punish-fuck you after you said you didn't want to split up for the millionth time? please.

i feel he also enjoys a good hate fuck

i don't think he is one to be super romantic, usually. Especially early on.

so passion fueled hate fucking is his forte

finding someone he can't stand (you) and letting out all his rage in like, 30 minutes of the filthiest, dirtiest sex imaginable is his bread and butter

even when you are in a long term relationship, hate fucking after an argument is enough to make him start an argument in the first place

One thing that is consistent no matter how long you have been together though, is he loves being in public

Not necessarily going to the mall and fucking in front of the JC Penny

But car sex, dicking you down good in the front seat, letting anyone who walks by see just how good you are for him turns him on like no tomorrow

You aren't super comfy with that? What about driving out into the woods. Nobody'll be there baby? Yeah?

Just to go fuck, top down on the car, near a campsite. The thought of someone walking up on the two of you is enough to spur him on.

His favorite is during the heist, however.

You two are partners in crime, so why wouldn't you act like partners during the crime? Duh?

Yeah you fuck on the mission to steal that fuckass box and are almost caught by security guards because you can't stay quiet

Illinois

Public. Public. Public.

If it isn't public, why do it?

Whereas Heist Mark is very car-sex vibes, Illinois is very "let's have sex next to this historical monument" vibes

Yeah, so what some tour guide who is getting paid minimum wage is about to bring a group here? You will be quiet and fast, like it never happened.

Not like he would mind if someone caught you...

in fact he would love getting caught

showing off how well he fucks his little toy, how good you take him

even you catching him jacking off is like a cherry on top, the way your eyes widen and cheeks flush

he eats it up

He is big on thrill. He doesn't play around too much with gun play/knife play, but once you bring it up good GOD does he go crazy with it

He likes it when you get all shy and flustered bringing something kinky up to him. He loves having to coax it out of you

You could bring up anything and he would do it. Truly a "i'll try anything once" kinda guys.

You were standing in Command Center, talking to Burt about some of the stats regarding the new (and stabilized) warp core and how a few changes could improve its performance.

‘Alert: Commotion in Cryo’

You raised your head and listened to the computer before rolling your eyes and shaking your head, wondering what the hell Mark was doing to piss off Celci and hoping that he wasn’t dragging Simon into it like he did the last time.

After concluding your conversation with Burt and watching him leave to the Warp Core, you headed to Cryo with the mindset that you would have to separate Celci and Mark. “I swear sometimes they act more like a married couple than he and I do. And sometimes they act like fucking siblings.” you muttered, shaking your head and pressing your hand to the scanner. It buzzed and just as the door opened, you stopped in the doorway and blinked a couple times, trying to figure out what just happened. You looked at the floor and tilted your head at Celci’s glove sitting at your feet before raising your head and looking at the two with a scowl on your face. And just as you had hoped otherwise, Simon was standing in the corner, watching and looking very amused. You clenched your jaw while the two watched you like children caught by their parental figure. That sentiment is further solidified when they immediately start accusing each other and pointing fingers.

“Mark, go help Burt with the Warp Core adjustments. Be useful and listen to what he says.” you told Mark, pointing in the direction of the Warp Core and watching the victorious expression spread across Celci’s face. “Celci.” Her expression dropped immediately and she looked at you. “Check on the colonists.” you said firmly. The two looked at each other and stuck their tongues out before you stamped your boot on the floor. “Now!” They scrambled in different directions upon your raised voice and Simon looked at you in awe at the authority you held.

“Simon, come with me and explain to me what happened. I assume you’re on neutral grounds of whatever those two were up to.” You turned to Simon and watched as he pushed off the wall before walking over and explaining that Mark had been insistently suggesting that Celci wasn’t caring enough about the Colonists and Celci retaliating by calling Mark ‘the captain’s pet’ and that’s when shit got crazy.

You sighed when Simon finished, pinching the bridge of your nose and shaking your head. “Those two have a very complicated history that I would rather not have the headache of explaining to you. Long story short, they act like that all the time since the first Invincible. And it can get very out of hand if not interfered with soon.” You explained, picking up the glove at your feet and setting it on the control panel beside you. Simon simply nodded and shoved his hands into the pockets of his jumpsuit while the two of you walked out of Cryo and towards the Bridge. 

Over the hours, everyone else on the Bridge filed out until it was just you and Simon. You sat at the control board, staring out the large window at the vast darkness littered with stars. You glanced at Simon, watching him standing at the window and staring out at the stars like a child gazing at an animal at the zoo. It made you wonder what happened in his universe to make him so wary and pessimistic. “Tell me about you.” The words fell naturally from your lips, the break in the silence making Simon jump a bit before looking at you. He seemed hesitant for a while, staring out at the sea of stars before finally speaking. 

You learned about his childhood and the cult he was a part of, not by choice, and why he was called a convict. By the end of his story, you were standing by the window with him with a solemn look on your face. You thought back to the moment when you pulled him from the Iron Lung when the crystal activated. “You just wanted freedom from everything that had happened, huh?” you placed a hand on his shoulder, his head turning to meet your gaze. You smiled lightly when he nodded. “Well, I hope pulling you into this universe will provide that freedom to you, Simon.” you explained, watching his lips twitch up into a smile of his own. It was the first big genuine smile you’d seen on his face since you met him and that made you feel pride. You looked out the window again.

“Everyone on this ship, including the Colonists, are looking for new beginnings after Earth became uninhabitable. That’s why we’re here. Searching for a new planet to call home, a place like Earth to thrive on and do better.” You explained, letting your hand drop from Simon’s shoulder before putting your hands together behind your back. “And some of us are running from our own demons too.” you added, looking at Simon and noticing how he was already staring at you. You thought back to the nightmare of traveling through endless wormholes and ending up in the Warp Core with Ms. Whitacre. “Before I ended up on your ship, I came across a path where I was in the company of one of our colonists named Ms. Whitacre. And she gave me an amazing insight in that moment of feeling lost and being beaten down.” you turned to face Simon.

“Life is ours to choose. And if the universe were made up of only right and wrong choices then there’s not much of a choice at all, and it’s not really living. So, what choice are you going to make?” You straightened up, a smile on your lips while you watched Simon contemplate the words you’d passed on to him. It seemed he made a conclusion in his mind because he met your gaze and straightened up as well, taking a deep breath that felt freeing for him. You nodded wordlessly and watched him smile as if you’d just given him a breath of fresh air, which, in a way, you had. You reached your hand out to him for him to shake and were momentarily stunned when he hugged you instead but your arms wrapped around him anyway.

Drinks Menu

Gin and Tonic - Fluff For those who like it sweet and simple

Wine - Angst For those who want a little kick

Hard Cider - Smut For those looking for a little spice

Old Fashioned - Domestic Bliss For those who want a dreamy evening

Mocktail - Platonic For those not looking to complicate things (or maybe you are)

Beer - Headcannons For those who enjoy the basics

Fun Additives

Stardust - Creature Only Looking for a cosmic touch?

Dried Orange - Concept!Character AU Looking for something a little different?

Crushed Ice - Fractured Looking for a familiar face?

Eldritch Blood - Vampire AU Looking for a little more bite?

Moondust - Werewolf AU Looking for something wild?

Clam Sauce - Mermaid AU Looking to get your fins wet?

Grenadine - Swaps out Reader for Aria (My OC) Looking for someone a little broken? (Leg insisted, blame them)

How To Order?

As soon as the Invincible II parked itself just above the atmosphere of their chosen planet, it was go-time, and it was going great. Scans were being run, rovers were being constructed, and the crew were all doing their best to get ready for a new home. Being the first colonist expedition outside of the Milky Way granted them certain expectations, but it was nothing they couldn't handle. In fact, beyond the normal stresses of a grand project such as this, everyone was calm and content.

With the exception of the two most prominent figures on the ship.

For a reason unknown to the crew, the Captain and the Head Engineer were frequently spotted sprinting through hallways like they had a countdown over their heads. Even the other crew leads were in the dark, leaving them only curiosity and concern when the two would share hushed whispers before breaking into another jog. The singular hint anyone had been given as to the problem was a vague warning to not enter the warp-core, though neither stayed still long enough for follow-up questions.

There wasn't an obvious issue, so their restlessness wasn't an issue either. The ship simply continued on like it always had—only with a pair of frantic leads shaking hallways with their footsteps. They got their work done, so there was no need for official action to be taken against them. The only things that came from it were glances, shrugs, and a healthy amount of gossip intrinsic to a tight space.

"I don't understand what could be so… scary," an assistant engineer said as they sat down with a food tray. The cafeteria menu didn't hold the most glamorous options, but they weren't there to dine in style.

A biologist nestled into the seat opposite them.

"Why does it have to be scary?"

"Anyone who goes into the infirmary looks terrified when they come out—and have you seen the Captain?" They leaned forward with an air of conspiracy. "They haven't stopped working for a second."

Their friend just rolled his eyes. "Maybe it's just important."

"But it's the med-bay. Why would they keep it there if it weren't—"

Two hard thunks of steel-toed boots landed inches from the table. Neither of the crew members had to look up to know who it was, and neither did for fear of their startled reflections in the Captain's helmet.

"Please keep gossiping to a minimum."

Normally, this kind of situation called for a gentle reminder, something friendly and casual and, most notably, informal. This was not a gentle reminder. They spoke in that kind of way you learn in high-ranking positions; how to appear neutral on transcripts but be heard with a tone that gave no second chance.

The engineer's shoulders dropped, and they nodded quickly, saying, "Right, sorry, Captain."

Their nod was returned, and it wasn't until the Captain had taken what they needed and slipped back through the cafeteria's doors that a single breath was taken. Once they had both relaxed, the topic was exchanged for worried comments over their superior. After all, it took a lot to shake you, and nobody but the Head Engineer seemed to know what it was.

The edges of his vision were fraying—were frayed, pulled apart at the edges like fabric, like an old rug, like some kid had played with them when they were bored until the fibers split apart and the floor was visible beneath them. Like they didn't care what happened. That wasn't new, but it was the first time it had happened to his eyes.

Simon should have been scared. He didn't know a lot, but he knew that, and yet he couldn't find it in himself. Whatever had attacked him had taken a lot, including all of his energy. For the moment, he didn't have the effort to exert. He was happy to stay in this fraying darkness, where he didn't have to wonder and he didn't have to ask.

But then his vision started to clear up, and he knew he would never have the luxury of true safety.

Simon had to be scared.

He was alone, which was the first thing that he processed upon glancing around. As far as he was concerned, that was the best case scenario. He had gotten used to being alone, but the rhythmic beeping kept him on high alert. The machine that was making the noise, far too similar to a drip-drip-drip, sat on the right, next to the cot he was tucked into. Wires stretched from little holes and jabbed into his upper arm.

Despite his brain realizing that he hadn't always been alone, his body was too focused on those thin, white threads. They looked new and delicate and terrifying because medical equipment didn't look like this. It was supposed to be scavenged from rubble and stained with the bodies of those it had been connected to before. Frayed. It wasn't.

First, Simon had the sickening thought that, wherever he was, the Quiet Rapture had not touched this place. Second, he had the thought that he needed to find Ava, who had surely survived herself and saved him. Third, he had the thought that she was dead, and if she were dead then so was he.

He gripped the wires and pulled. They popped out of his veins like teeth out of gums.

He was still missing an arm. It wasn't ideal, but he still had three other limbs to use if push came to shove. This was anticipation, the phase before action. Plans came to him half-formed and were thrown out. Too much uncertainty, too much opportunity. He had to find someone to give him answers, but who would he find? How would he know when he found them?

The beeping sped up, up, up until it crescendoed into a long cry for help. The convict was escaping, someone, help, the convict was escaping.

Frantically, Simon tried to pull the wires out of the machine altogether, but he only succeeded in tugging it forward. A tether to the wall followed, he tried to trace it, tried to unplug it, tried to get it to shut up before someone came.

But then someone came.

He heard the even footsteps first. A shadow came after, indistinct and threatening in its ambiguity. It stopped just outside the door. The urge to yell welled up in Simon's throat—as if surviving a near-death scenario before made him immortal, or self-sabotaging—but he stayed silent and staring at the door.

It slid open, and he noted immediately that he couldn't see your eyes.

At your first step, Simon scrambled off the bed and lunged for the first sharp object within arm's reach. He came back with a scalpel, just as unblemished as the wires, and pointed it straight out.

You stood your ground, but came no closer. Instead, you held up your arms and said, "Hey, hey, I'm not going to hurt you."

Once upon a time, in a distant, far-off land, Simon took people at their word. There, he was drowning at the bottom of an ocean with something else's bones lodged in his flesh.

His grip tightened.

You heaved a breath, preparing yourself. "I understand that you're confused and scared, but you need to put the scalpel down."

He didn't, not even when you continued, "I'm here to help."

His jaw ground just as hard as his grip-strength, but he managed to spit out, "Why?"

You were quiet for a few seconds. A question like that seemed to catch you off-guard, and Simon wondered if he was the first person to ask you. Who were you that you got by without being questioned?

Your answer came after you shuffled on the spot. "Because I want to."

It almost didn't matter; people said anything for any reason. Lying was not an uncommon concept, and he figured that lying to a stranger was the easiest of them all. No stakes, save for the scalpel.

However, he needed answers, and you had answered the first question posed to you. You were also the only other person around so his options were limited.

Slowly, as you let your arms fall, Simon dropped the scalpel onto the machine. This was also a lie, in a way. He didn't suddenly become harmless. He didn't need a weapon to do damage.

But you thanked him. Contained relief tainted your words. A threat diffused and progress to be made, starting with you asking, "What's your name?"

Simon didn't respond. He didn't trust you with that kind of thing—and there was a small voice in the back of his head reminding him that the last time he had told someone his name, they had been eaten.

"Okay," you said, not put-off in the least. "How about I tell you what we think happened first? Is that alright?"

The questions were getting on his nerves. It wasn't because you were asking too many, no, it was because you were asking at all, and you still hadn't told him what you really wanted. His heart was already running like a wild animal, encouraging him to do the same, and he didn't need more suspicions to make it worse. Nobody helped someone because they wanted to.

You kept talking. Somehow, you were completely undeterred by his silence.

"There was a wormhole," you explained. "My Head Engineer and I have been… experimenting with them, and we believe that instead of bringing us to another planet, it brought you to us. We don't know why the direction reversed, but we're working on it."

"So it was an accident?"

"Yes."

Simon's snarl turned to a frown.

"We didn't cause this, as far as we're aware, but we're trying to find out what did."

So maybe it wasn't you, or who you worked for, or whoever the Head Engineer was. Maybe it wasn't on purpose. That didn't mean he wasn't there for a reason. So much of Simon's life was consequence. He paid for other people's actions, the lamb that grew teeth, but he had torn out throats before. Was this retribution for his own actions now?

The scalpel shined in the corner of his eye.

"For the time being, we'll take care of you. Our medics are making progress on helping your arm fight against infection—"

Something in his expression must have shifted; you paused, turned to a cabinet, and slipped a file out of the drawer. You read from it, muttering to yourself as you made sense of the medical jargon scribbled down. Simon couldn't hear you over the sound of blood rushing in his ears.

"They found some kind of bacteria eating at the separation site. Would—" You stopped yourself and brought your hand to your helmet in contemplation, as if you forgot that you had it on. When you started again, it was with a shade of uncertainty, "Can I ask what happened?"

"No."

No hesitation. Just a simple 'no'. It wasn't an emotional wound, the soreness probably came from whatever science fuckery had been done to his arm, but it was going to be a rough subject for a while. Probably forever, and that was fine by him.

"That's okay. The medics might ask again, but you don't have to tell them. Of course, it might help to know if you were in contact with any dangerous substances or species, but…"

You shrugged.

"We won't force it out of you."

You weren't the COI. If there had been any doubt floating in the recesses of his mind, they were gone, wiped out by that simple sentence. They weren't replaced by unconditional trust, but manipulation like that wasn't their thing. If they wanted him to do something, they made him do it. They didn't need him to think it was his idea.

But if you weren't the Consolidation, and you certainly weren't Eden, then who were you?

"Now, moving forward," you said, tucking the file back into the cabinet, "you'll be undergoing physical therapy with our medical team and learning how to do basic tasks. I'll be working with you every step of the way. If everything goes well, we'll see about getting you a role on the ship or planet-side."

"Planet-side?"

All of his attention snapped to your words. The only scenarios he could come up for a planet were the COI or another ocean, and neither of them appealed to him. You could have been lying. That was always a possibility. In the background, there was the faint, useless hope of it being an actual planet, but he wasn't an idiot. Fantasies like that were what got people killed. The idea that there was something better out there was what got his brothers killed.

You twitched, a near flinch, like an idea had physically struck you, and you muttered a curse just loud enough for Simon to hear.

What followed knocked the breath out of him. You asked, "Do you want to see?"

Simon was not a man to cry. A few minutes of sobbing vulnerability that would inevitably be used against him, and for what? Relief? It never did him any good, he was always thrown into the next panic seconds later, so why bother?

But there were some times—even when he was accompanied, when he was on an unfamiliar ship in an unfamiliar place, when there were other things to focus on like plain survival—that he did cry.

The stars were beautiful. It had been so long that his memories had become paintings, shoddy, and imperfect, and probably exaggerations. Seeing them in person again was a reminder he much appreciated. Although the voice from before whispered that he should have focused on the person standing to his side, his eyes were locked onto the glowing balls of fire. Alive, right where they were meant to be, as if they had never left him.

The one bit of hope that Simon dragged with him through hell and high waters was that the Quiet Rapture was not what everyone thought it was. While Eden said that the stars had died, and the COI said that the planets were gone, Simon thought that they hadn't. Not really. Instead, it was them, the unlucky few who were pulled from one place and pushed into another, that created void space in the universe.

He didn't bother to swipe the tears from his eyes. They refracted the blurry image of a planet below the ship.

He tried not to startle when your voice rang out in the empty bridge, "I'll give you some time alone."

Footsteps came next, but he called for you to wait. It wasn't on purpose. He figured it was some ancient, human instinct, instead of him not wanting to be alone as his dismal world was shaken to its core.

You listened to him, stopping just outside his field of vision, but it was fine. It didn't really matter to him anymore.

Simon opened his mouth to speak, but his attention was stuck on the stars, as though they would also flicker out of existence if it weren't for him looking at them. Whatever duty Ava had given him to protect humanity, like he could do anything for them, apparently extended to this moment.

You spoke for him, saying, "Suppose this wasn't a view you saw everyday."

Past tense. Things had changed, and it was the first thing that he fully believed from your mouth.

"They were all gone," he muttered.

You nodded—like you knew what he meant, even if you didn't—and you watched the stars with him—like you didn't notice him crying, even if you did. Just the ship and the stars.

"We'll get you a room with a window," you said. "I think it'd be harder to find one without. Mark made sure of that."

Startling at your own words, you pulled a slim tablet off the center console of the bridge.

"You need to meet the crew leads. Everybody knows everybody on the ship, so you might be a spectacle." Gloved fingers tapped around the screen. "If anyone gives you a hard time, just let me know, okay?"

Given how gentle you had been with him so far, he doubted you could stop much that he couldn't, but it was nice to be offered protection. Except it wasn't really. It sat oddly in his stomach like food that refused to be digested, but he nodded, anyway.

"Good. Whenever you're ready to leave, let me know, and I'll get you set up."

He didn't think he would ever be ready to leave. The view before him was a comfort nothing else could give him, and it took half an hour for him to even think about moving. It was the adrenaline crash that did him in; he was close to passing out there and then as the fear faded from his system. Stuff that had kept him upright since he had scrambled from the med-bay cot was leaching into the air.

At Simon's acceptance, you walked him from the bridge to the crew quarters. You explained some of the logic behind 'cryopods' and beds, which was lost on him, but you didn't seem to mind. They weren't your area of expertise, as you told him, referring to another one of the crew leads. Surface-level information like that was all he took in before you arrived at a spare bedroom.

You swiped through the keypad system and then stepped aside when the symbol of a hand appeared on its pixillated surface. At your gesture, Simon pressed his only hand to it. Blue pulsed with light, ran a shining line across his palm, chirped with a high-pitched sound.

A lock, and his hand, the key.

Simon let you walk in first—less risk of being cornered—and spared a glance around after following you. It was bare bones, but it was more than he ever had.

"There should be some spare clothes in the drawers, and I'll come get you for breakfast after you get some rest."

You twisted on your heel to face him. The helmet was still off-putting, the artificial shadow that covered your eyes, but he got the sense that you were happy.

"Any questions, you can come straight to me."

You didn't wait. After another silent nod, you marched out, letting the door slide shut behind you. The room was closed, sealed after Simon played around with the lock symbol next to the inner keypad. He made sure that he could unlock it easily and followed up this security check with an inspection of his own. A bed, a closet, a desk. A window, just like you'd said.

He wanted to thank you, but words like that didn't come cheap for him. There was some hidden fee behind him saying them, a shiv in the hand that he shook for a job well-done, and he wasn't ready to admit that this place was different.

More and more information kept coming, so much that it felt like this was the attack. A bombardment of hope, mental warfare in a pretty package of beds and meals and stars. He shouldn't have trusted it. He shouldn't have wanted to trust it. He knew what humans were capable of, and teasing was not outside of the realm of possibility, but he had to trust it. He had nothing else.

The curtains over the window stayed undrawn when he climbed into the bed that night.

Time was a fickle thing for Simon, but he guessed it was twelve hours later that he was sat on a med-bay cot again. It was probably the same one from before, but waking up in a completely new environment with a missing arm didn't lend itself to details. This was a relaxed situation; you stood next to a medic, who was dividing his blood into little discs. He had spent the last hour being scanned and sampled as the medical team tried to figure out what bacteria lived on his arm. More importantly, they tried to figure out whether it was dangerous.

So far, no threat, but that was liable to change when they learned more.

The stress of being tested was waning while Simon listened to you and the medic chat. The planet was the big topic of conversation, and it was better than retreating into his mind. Plant-talk was interesting, the new flora that thrived on the surface and what could feasibly be transported back to wherever the crew came from.

It was calm.

And then the door opened, and someone new bustled through.

"Hey, Captain, I was going over the landing site scan and—"

Simon's blood pressure spiked. If it weren't for the surge of dizziness, of go-go-go, react or die, the monitor connected to his upper arm would have told him that he was panicking.

You waved them over.

When they were within a few feet, you turned, saying, "Mark, this is Simon. Simon, this is Mark, the Head Engineer."

The tension of an unexpected situation soured the introduction, but only Simon seemed to recognize it.

"Nice to meet you," Mark said, and he held out a hand.

Simon didn't move.

Mark pulled it back. "Okay then."

"Mark is going to go through the basic chores with you, once you're far enough into your recovery. Do you have any experience with fixing things up?"

Not as much as he should have for the positions he had been in, but Simon still nodded.

"Great." You were inexplicably cheery for the awkwardness in the air. "It's either that or we hand you over to Gunther and you get taught how to shoot."

"What's so bad about that?" Mark asked. To his credit, he seemed genuinely confused instead of eager to get a babysitting duty off his back.

"I didn't say anything about accuracy."

The man laughed, loud and boisterous and in that particular fashion that made Simon suspicious. It wasn't for the same reasons he had distrusted you. It wasn't because he thought Mark was dangerous—in fact, he thought he could pick him up and throw him across the room like a rag doll. He simply thought that no person would laugh like that just because you were funny.

Simon was busy trying to figure out his angle when the medic pulled you aside. You were still in the room, but having a stranger closer to him than you were made him uneasy.

This was when he discovered that, in awkward situations, Mark talked.

"So, you're the one who got sucked through the wormhole?"

He couldn't tell whether it was a question or not. He knew he was. Simon sat in the medical bay with his blood under a microscope and half his arm missing. Of course, he was.

"Not a nice ride, is it?" Mark continued. "You probably ended up somewhere better than you started though."

With a wave at Simon's arm and a sharp laugh, Mark teetered back and forth on his heels, as if the cold reception knocked him off kilter.

Good. His attitude was getting on his nerves.

"It might be rough at first, but we're a growing colony! We'll get there, and you'll feel right at home."

"You don't know anything about my home."

He wasn't alone in that. Simon wondered what had happened to Eden, to the COI, to the world that he was shot out of—but they weren't really his home. He still had questions for his mother that would forever go unanswered.

The reply caught Mark off-guard. He sputtered out a tepid, "Right, right. Of course."

He shrugged, shuffled, did all the basic gestures for a social blunder. He glanced around, searching for someone to get him out of this mess, but then he looked straight at Simon and said, "You know, you don't make conversation easy—"

"Goods news!"

And there came Mark's 'someone'. Simon heard the smile in your voice as you stepped up to them, the medic writing notes behind you.

"It looks like we'll be able to start your physical rehabilitation tomorrow," you announced cheerily. "You'll be fitted for a compression garment today, I'll take you for a tour around the ship, and then you're free to do whatever you want for the rest of the day. Within limits, obviously."

Simon braced himself. This was it, the impact, the 'stay here', the 'go do this', the 'stay away from that', the rules for survival. He was almost proud for beating your niceties and keeping his healthy suspicions. He wasn't crew or colonist, so, of course, he would have separate laws to abide by. It would have been nice had the freedom been real, but it wasn't, so it didn't matter. The hope didn't matter.

"You won't be able to use the gym unsupervised, and the warp-core is off-limits until we figure out what happened. Is that alright?"

His brow furrowed.

"That's it?"

"Yep. Any questions?"

Hundreds. More than he could count whirled in his mind like a school of fish. He didn't know where to start, if he could start, especially given present company. He held Mark in the corner of his eye, hands visible at his sides.

He shook his head. He didn't want you to shut down when he got to his real questions, so he decided to keep them to himself for now. Being measured for his compression garment would give him time to figure out what to ask and in what order to ease you into his curiosity.

"If you think of any, just come and find me."

With that, you nodded at Mark and started toward the door. He fell into step with you, like any dutiful Head Engineer would with their Captain. That was what Mark had called you, and it was what you were. You were the Captain, and one question bubbled to the surface of Simon's brain.

Why was a captain so eager to talk to him?

You hummed to yourself in the corridor. It was barely audible through your helmet, but Mark kept sparing glances at you as you walked. Sure that the background noise wasn't what had piqued his interest, you turned off the tablet and slipped it into your waistband.

"Out with it, Mark."

You caught him when he was staring and only got a flustered, "Huh?"

"You have questions. Ask them."

"No, no, I'm fine, Captain."

There was a pause. Only the sound of the ship's inner-workings could be heard, but they barely underlined the conversation. You heard the whirring of Mark's brain louder. All the calculations, all the possibilities, all the choices being made for what he was going to say, because he was going to say something.

"Are you sure we should be giving him free reign?"

"You have free reign," you shot back immediately. "Why shouldn't he?"

He spoke even quicker, "Because I didn't randomly appear in the warp-core with fifteen gallons of human blood pouring down me."

His voice was quiet enough that no one passing by would hear, but you still spared a glance around. It wouldn't do for more rumors to spread, and no one yet knew what had happened to Simon. Barely anyone knew that he was even there. Keeping secrets from your crew was old hat to you now, and you were good at keeping the guilt at bay.

"We met a lot of people in the wormhole," you said. "A bit of blood shouldn't scare you."

"But fifteen gallons, Captain." His voice faded into a sigh, and his gaze dropped to the floor where you could see phantom blood splatters. "I just don't understand…"

You stopped at the door to the main reactor. For a moment, you considered making another joke, but then you were both bathed in the orange light of a star. Simon had said that the stars were all gone in his universe. This one was man-made, that man the one standing next to you with a frown and those eyes you couldn't look at for too long.

"He looks like you."

A moment of stunned silence and then, "What?"

It was tough to admit it, but you couldn't take it back—not anymore—so you said, "I know- I know I shouldn't pick favorites, but… what if it had been you?"

You bowed your head and stepped closer to the console. Lights flickered on the screen, readings and levels and jargon you would never truly understand. You knew it powered the ship, it could overheat, and it was able to melt the flesh off bones in less than a second. You didn't want to know that last one.

"If you showed up drenched in blood and absolutely terrified, and I didn't help you, I…"

Finishing that sentence was impossible, and, luckily, Mark got to you in time to stop you. He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder, though you still couldn't face him.

Instead, you said, "I'm giving him the benefit of the doubt. I trust him."

"Well, I don't."

That was expected. Not the best case, but the wormhole had taken a lot from both of you. Trust like that wasn't handed out freely anymore.

"But I trust you," he sighed, "so I'll get over it."

Your shoulders shook with a light chuckle. "Thank you."

"If he breaks that trust, I'm sending him out the airlock."

"Mark!"

You whirled around to slap him on the arm, but you couldn't help the laughter that kept pouring out of you. Being the captain was a lot of stress, and it was nice to button-down with someone, even if you still had the helmet on. Mark was laughing, too, bright and boisterous and enough to make you feel a little more confident in your decision-making.

All things considered, the tour was going well. You and Simon had picked up and dropped off some strays as you went, but it was limited to the crew leads, who you had said Simon was to meet anyway. He understood your hesitancy to leave training to Gunther, especially after he offered him a gun within ten seconds of an introduction. The other two were more his speed; Celci's professionalism and Burt's silence had a calming effect.

Still, meeting so many new people pushed his perception into overdrive as he tried to account for every move they made. A few minutes in Life Support was a welcome calm before the end of the tour in the bridge. It was just him, you, and tanks of unfamiliar flora.

"The planet's atmosphere is oxygen-rich enough to support us," you explained, "so there's no need to take them down." Gently, you drew a finger along one of the leaves. "They'll stay on the ship while we get all the colonists settled."

Eyes still locked onto the plants, he asked, "How many people are there?"

"100,000."

That got his attention; his attention snapped to you like a magnet. 100,000 was more than Eden had, more than the COI had, maybe more than what was left of humanity at all. He wondered if you were smiling beneath your shaded helmet, but no. It was just another thing about this ship that was normal to everyone else but shocking, and terrifying, to him.

But the way that you said it made him think you weren't part of that 'everyone else'. He knew that tone. The number was heavy on your tongue, and it fell to the floor like a slab of concrete. It was big, but not too big that it couldn't disappear.

Whatever guilt you had couldn't have been a transporter's fears of fucking things up. He wasn't ready to ask about it. He switched to muttering, "What about food?"

"Hmm?"

"These are for oxygen. What about food?"

"The cyrochambers can get nutrients to the colonists, and we have provisions stored from launch that should last us fifty years. It's not the most appetizing, but now that we've found a planet, we can get farming up and running."

Simon let out a shaky breath. The stars were the first thing, then the people, and then the food. It was all so good, and he didn't know what to do with it. It felt undeserved, like he hadn't worked for it, hadn't suffered enough for it. He knew other people who had died to fix what had been broken by the Quiet Rapture. Ava, his brothers, the guy he'd irradiated on accident—and there he was, standing in front of living plants in someone else's universe.

"Do you need a moment alone?"

Your voice almost scared him.

"No. No." He swallowed roughly. "No, I don't want to be alone."

"Okay."

Silence swam in again as you watched Simon watch the plants. You tried to do the same, but you were constantly brought back to him. Twice, you'd offered to leave, and you didn't understand why he kept denying you. You didn't want to leave, you didn't think he was better alone, it just couldn't be you. The captain. The one with the responsibility, who had screwed up that responsibility so many times before. 100,000 souls, over and over and over again. Whenever you did something wrong, it was best to leave before you made it worse, and that went the same if you did something right.

However, he had asked you to stay, so you did. You gave him the choice.

Simon moved to cross his arms, remembered, and slipped his only hand into a pocket.

"I want—" He turned to you, "—can we go back to the bridge?"

"Of course. There's probably going to be people working around, but they won't bother you."

You didn't know it, but one such person was Mark, who was tapping through the ship diagnostics on auto-pilot. The Invincible II was in tip-top shape, as it always was nowadays. The duty was checked off his list within minutes, but he was still stuck to the floor in front of the console. Distracted.

His mind drifted to where you might have been—answer supplied immediately that you were probably with Simon—and what you saw in that stranger—apparently, him. He was dangerous, but you could defend yourself, but he wanted to keep you safe, but you kept wandering off, but the last time you were hurt was with a fire extinguisher in the warp-core.

He went round and round, a dog ineffectively chasing its own tail, until he was interrupted by footsteps. He didn't need to turn around to know who it was, he knew the sound of your boots like a second pulse, and there was no mystery who followed behind.

There were a few other crew members pottering around at the edges of the bridge, but they cleared off the moment that Simon stepped into view. Mark didn't follow them, he wasn't scared, but he kept his eyes locked firmly on the dancing lights below glass.

When Simon settled at the hull, staring out as he often did, you stopped against the console. Had it just been you and him, you would have been leaning against it, scandalously unprofessional, and joked about the last hole Gunther left in a rover.

Instead, you simply asked, "How's the ship?"

"Looking good, Captain," was the somewhat dull reply.

He got a nod, nothing more, and it took looking up from the screen to see what had got your attention.

He tried not to roll his eyes.

He failed.

"Okay, I know I said I don't trust him, but you don't have to watch him constantly."

"I'm not watching him," you muttered. "I'm supervising."

Mark made a noise between a laugh and a huff. "Yeah, sure."

"He's in a new environment, completely disconnected from his home—how do you want me to treat him?" Surprisingly, you managed to tear your eyes away from Simon to look at Mark, which must have been an impossible challenge. "I'm just trying to help."

"There's a difference between helping and hovering."

"Hovering—"

"I can hear you."

Both of you snapped to attention, as if the bandaged attack-dog were your old drill sergeant from the training academy. He wasn't facing you, but the tension in his shoulder-blades was evidence enough of his irritation.

For a moment, Mark felt guilty, but he hadn't said anything he didn't believe.

You were the first to apologize. Then, after a few seconds and an elbow in his side, Mark followed suit.

When Simon's shoulders dropped slightly, you broke away to stand next to him, sending Mark a glance that prompted a pout you didn't see.

"I'm not hovering, am I?" you asked when he turned to you. "I mean, if I am hovering, or smothering or whatever, tell me, and I'll stop."

"It's fine."

He was content to leave it there, a question and an answer, but you pulled at the edges of your gloves as you asked, "Is it?"

Simon had two choices; he could either give another blunt answer, a simple 'yes' just to be done with it, which would undoubtedly leave you to worry in silence—or he could ask the question that had popped up earlier. It was obvious which was more appealing.

"Why are you asking me?"

"Because you're the one I'm—" You stumbled over the wording, aware of what Mark had said, "—trying to help."

"And you're the captain."

"I am. It doesn't mean I can do whatever I want."

Your jaw tightened when Simon scoffed. You were suddenly very interested in what kind of people he had dealt with in his universe, and whether they were still intact.

"Look," you said, "I have a responsibility to the colonists and my crew. You're walking around on the ship, so you're part of the crew now."

"But I'm not- I'm not helping." He squinted, as though, if he looked a little closer, he could see through the words. From an outside perspective, it might have looked like a glare, but there was a softness to it.

Your focus switched to the painting of stars before you. Some distant, some closer, some you knew the names of, some you didn't.

"That doesn't matter. Some people help by just being there. Morale support, you know?"

"No. I don't."

You were curious. So, so curious about where he came from and what life had been like for him. Nothing good, you could imagine, not with the way he tensed the second he saw another person. But you had to move forward, just like you had with the wormhole. The pain was still there, and the scar from the crystal was still seared into your wrist, but you learned from it.

Firmly, you said, "We'll teach you."

The conversation cut off when someone called for you. You bid your goodbyes to Simon and Mark and then left to attend to a captain's business. Both men watched you go until the door slid shut behind you, and it was only the two of them left.

Mark only spared a glance, which Simon returned, before his eyes darted back down to the console.

They saw one another three hours later, but the next time they spoke, a week had passed. Progress on the planet was being made at a rapid pace, which drew everyone's attention and energy. Work hours had steadily grown quieter with every crew member focused on the last push. Exploration would follow scanning, production would follow exploration, and habitation would be king of them all.

People were tired but eager, and the answer to that had been a ship-wide curfew to avoid the crew overworking themselves.

It was no surprise that Mark was the last woke awake, running through the hallways and frantically trying to cover the flashing screen on his wrist. The curfew came with enforcement measures, including an alarm that he was hoping no one would notice. When he was inside his room, it would stop, but he wasn't going to his room just yet.

The captain's quarters were at the end of the barracks. He knew because he had built them, and that was the only reason—and if someone thought it was because he went there too often for a professional relationship, it was none of their business.

Because of the recent workload, however, he hadn't found the time to see you on a more personal level, and he hoped to solve that tonight. A chat and a movie, or something to that effect.

Once he rounded the corner, the person sitting outside your door stopped him in his tracks.

"Really?" Mark muttered.

Even on the floor, legs crossed and eyes barely open, Simon was intimidating. No, not intimidating, he wasn't scary, he was just… unignorable.

Voice rough with interrupted sleep, he asked, "What?"

"You don't have to be with them every second of the day, you know."

"You got a problem with me, Mark?"

Simon's eyes were wide open now, taking in the sight of the dutiful Head Engineer with crossed arms and a petty frown. It was the same expression he had seen on him countless times before. It seemed he would never be satisfied with his presence on the ship.

"No, no," Mark said. He wasn't trying to cover up his annoyance. "I think it's completely normal for a random guy to appear out of nowhere and stick so close to the captain that you don't see them alone for forty-eight hours straight."

It was an exaggeration, of course, but come on. Was he wrong? Was it not a little bit weird? He could say it was a legal concern—you handled sensitive information every day, and this was a random guy—but he hadn't said anything incorrect yet, and he wasn't planning on starting.

"I've faced down people a lot worse than you," Simon said, halfway between a statement and a threat. "You're not gonna get me with a bit of jealousy behind you."

"It's not jealousy. It's concern."

There was a brief pause in which Mark figured this was how you felt when you defended your hovering. Slighted, defensive, and the smallest bit torn. It wasn't jealousy, there wasn't a reason to be jealous, but it was something.

Mark's frown deepened, and he said, "You're not the only one who's been in worse conditions. The Captain and I have gone through stuff you wouldn't believe, let alone understand, and I'd do it all over again just to keep them safe. You can't intimidate me into backing down from this."

Simon had heard this before. He was saying the same things that another prisoner would say when they were trying to impress a gang, the kind of things that might have bought you a sliver of protection. But Mark was no prisoner, and Simon was no gang, and it was the same thing he recognized with you. Guilt. You had both paid a price neither of you said aloud, and while you tried not to repeat your mistake, Mark was wrestling with apologizing for something he couldn't apologize for.

A quiet heaving filled the hallway as Simon parsed through his thoughts.

Eventually, he landed on saying, "I betrayed my brothers. I blew them up on Filament station. I killed them."

"That doesn't scare me."

"I'm not trying to scare you."

He let his head hit the wall. The ceiling was completely uniform. No rust, no wreckage, no Quiet Rapture.

Mark slid down next to him and wrapped his arms around his legs.

"I don't- what we did, it- I can't—"

He stumbled and stuttered and started the sentence over, trying to explain what had happened, but there were different kinds of wounds. Some scarred over quickly but burned every time you thought about them, and some were picked at over and over until they were just like new.

Mark brought his legs closer, curled so tightly that his face was almost hidden. If he finished, it would have been muffled, but your voice did it for him.

"We didn't kill anyone."

You appeared from around the corner. Both men were struck with the realization that they had been camping outside an empty room, but they didn't have time to dwell on it. Instead, their eyes trailed up from your boots to the box in your hands labeled 'celebratory provisions' to your face.

Visible.

It was Simon's first time seeing you eye-to-eye—diagonally, of course, he was still sitting, and you were standing because you had just got there, and you were grinning how he had always suspected you did, proud of yourself for spooking them, or maybe you knew how his thoughts were racing at the sight of the real you.

He looked away. Now wasn't the right time.

Based on Mark's reaction, he didn't think there ever would be a right time, nor that they would ever stop anyway. Red crept up his neck and to his ears, and he could see the corner of his mouth pointing up. Despite having worked with you for so long, and undoubtedly seen you without the helmet on, he looked as though it were his first time.

He looked away again.

You slid down the wall to rest on Simon's right. He was running out of places to look, so he settled on his hands.

Hand.

Fuck.

"But we got a lot of people killed," you said.

"Is there a difference?" Simon asked.

"Yes."

In your mind, there had to be. In his mind, there couldn't be.

Any spiraling thoughts were cut off when you dug into the box and handed him something. A cupcake, not that Simon recognized what it was at first. A distant memory of a birthday in his home with his mother, and she told him what it was.

He held it cautiously in the palm of his hand, lifting it up as you gave one over to Mark over his lap. The top was bright pink and covered in little white shapes; dots, hearts, stars, ones a child would draw when they were bored. He almost laughed. Even though he felt the heft, it seemed like a fantasy.

"Captain," Mark tutted at his side.

"Oh, like you haven't sneaked gingersnaps from the cafeteria."

He opened his mouth for a retort, shrugged, and then started to rip the wrapping. Little specks of the cake came off with its skin, and Simon watched with furrowed brows. A bird seeking the leftovers? Or another person just wanting to learn how to do it.

You tapped your leg just within his eyesight. He switched his attention to you, and you demonstrated how to peal it off—a little more dignity, a little less waste. He followed along with you, and, by the time that his was ready to eat, Mark was licking his fingers.

Before he went for it, though, Simon stopped to ask, "Why does it say celebratory on the bag?"

You wiped away icing at the corner of your mouth.

"They're supposed to be for when we get all the colonists planet-side."

And there was something he could have gone without; food-guilt. The thought of taking something away from people more worthy. He had been there for, what, a week? What right did he have to something meant for the crew?

You caught him putting the cupcake down and said, "We're ahead of schedule with the farming project. We can make more."

"Who's going to get you into trouble when it's the captain telling you to eat it?" Mark butted in.

Simon's normally neutral face ticked up into a near-smile. "So the captain can do whatever they want."

"Only when it's snack related."

Giggles were passed on either side of Simon, who finally took a bite of the treat in front of him, and he instantly understood why it was supposed to be a reward. It was nothing special, and, in fact, it was largely frivolous. Unnecessary for a colony or its crew, and yet there was a point to it.

What had you called it? Morale?

"Good?" you asked, and he nodded. You smiled to yourself and repeated, "Good."

The night could have ended there. It should have ended at the curfew, really, but being able to let your guard down was rare. You didn't want to willingly stifle that, not when Mark was grinning ear to ear and Simon was so close to laughing.

Instead of getting to your feet, you let your legs reach out across the hall and said, "You know, once there was a little old lady who somehow got out of her cryopod and got added to the crew list."

Mark's head snapped up.

"Wait, Captain."

"And we had a problem with our asteroid defense system."

"Captain, please."

"And she, for some reason, had a plate of cookies with her."

"Captain!"

In the midst of the story, Mark tried to scramble over Simon's lap to get to you, you managed to cover his mouth so you could continue the story, and Simon was too caught up in holding in his laughter to shove him off. When Mark gave up and dropped his weight onto everything below him, he was allowed to stay there through more stories. You didn't tell Simon all about the wormhole, and he didn't tell you all about his universe, but all three of you learned small things about another. Simon loved Mars, Mark was surprisingly cold-resistant, and you didn't trust plumbers anymore.

At what would have been three in the morning, if someone broke the curfew and wandered to the captain's quarters of the ship, they would find the Captain, the Head Engineer, and the strange man rescued from the stars asleep in front of the door.

And because gossip was intrinsic to a tight space, rumors would have abounded.

[i put time management as a skill on my resume lol NO BUT REALLY I did not mean to go so long without posting, I am working on things, but life has seriously gotten in the way. Things should come out at a faster rate, and just know that, if you have requested something or have even sent me a nice message (I see you, fellow undertale fan) I have seen it and I have plans for everything! For now, thank you so much for requesting, thank you for reading, and I hope you've enjoyed! Muah!