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delta-pavonis · 9 months

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July Kinkfest Day 20: Star Trek AU

The Sandman (Star Trek human AU) || Dreamling (Dream of the Endless/Hob Gadling) || Rated E || 4k words

Prompts: Lingerie | Domming from the Bottom | “We need to leave right now.” (maybe the middle one if you take a different direction with it?)

Warnings (in addition to the prompts above): Star Trek AU, Star Trek Discovery seasons 1 & 2 minor references (you don't need to know any Star Trek to enjoy!), mostly I just love an excuse to put Ash Tyler in anything, Getting Together, Dirty Dancing, Dirty Talk, Face-Sitting, Rimming, Cowgirl Position, Idiots in Love, they are both unhinged for each other

Author's Notes: Inspired to finally do a Star Trek AU because Dr_Lecteur wrote this

Read below or on AO3.

He has officially reached his breaking point. He has been in love with the Chief Security Officer on his ship for a total of one thousand nine hundred eighty nine days.

Yes. He has been counting.

It is time, as his friend Matthew would say, for extreme measures.

Because he has it on the word of at least a half dozen other friends and crewmates, people whose opinion he actually trusts, that no, Dream is not imagining it, and yes, Hob is interested, and no, Hob doesn't consider everything Dream has done so far as enough of a 'first move' to overcome his anxiety about being Dream's superior officer, even if they are in different departments.

So when the crew finally gets a week of shore leave at Starfleet HQ because the ship is being refitted with updated nacelle architecture, Lieutenant Commander Morpheus Endless, known as Dream to his friends, decides to draw of a new definition of extreme in terms of seduction techniques.

Dream is nursing a brandy at the bar of the 602 Club just on the outskirts of the Academy. He knows that Commander Gadling will meet his friends here after he stops by to say hello to one of his old professors. He knows that in nineteen minutes, when the dancefloor in the basement opens up, one of Gadling’s friends from his Academy days is going to be the opening DJ. And he knows that Hob has a very specific kink that happens to fit under a tailored suit. All of these things he has learned not from his Section 31 connections – which he damned well could have used, you're welcome for the restraint – but from being a close enough friend shipside to get invited to parties where Hob lets his hair down.

He watches as Hob arrives without much fanfare, meets up with some friends who work at HQ, people who he hasn’t seen in a long time, clapping shoulders and giving hugs and offering cheers for being on leave. Laughing, they head downstairs. The rumble of the bass is just starting to make it up through the floor.

Downing the last of his drink in one swig, Dream follows.

As he slides through the crowd to head to the stairs Dream unbuttons the top two buttons of his black shirt and rolls up the sleeves to his elbows – not only is he going to be sweating while he is down there, but he is quite sure that Hob has never seen so much of his skin. Just one more weapon in his arsenal.

Dream prowls along the edges of the dancefloor, already thrumming with a small group of people that is getting bigger by the second. He can see Hob’s head bobbing amongst them, flashing lights making his hair gleam with amber and brass. He gives the man a few minutes to enjoy his friends, because Dream has every intention of thoroughly distracting Hob away from them. He will figure out how to make it up to Hob later. Much later.

He is a predator waiting for his opening. He feels terribly alive in this moment, aware of his blood and his breathing and his skin and his saliva. The crowd grows. The three fingers of liquor buzz pleasantly in his veins. The crowd grows further. The room gets hotter with the warmth of bodies. Dream starts sweating. The music is resonating in his chest and he is all coiled muscle and ready. Then he sees Hob with his head thrown back, lost to the music, and Dream pounces.

It is easy to slide through the writhing bodies when he is so focused on his target; physical contact with strangers is the least of his worries right now. He circles around to come up behind Hob, puts his hand gently on Hob's bicep and leans in to speak next to his ear. “Might I have this dance?”

Dream knows his expression is smug as Hob nearly jumps out of his skin, twisting around at the same time that he yelps “Dream!” Then the Commander takes in his friend and colleague with an obvious look up and down. To Dream's thrill, he watches as Hob blushes. “Holy shit! Dream? What are you…”

He puts his bare forearms on Hob’s shoulders and looks at him through his lashes. “I am asking you if you want to dance with me.”

“Dream!” Hob chuckles, nervous, but does not back away. “Christ, are you wearing eyeliner?”

“Yes.” He dismisses the question quickly as he steps in, maybe an inch between their bodies now. “Do you. Want to.” Hob is watching his lips and he has to stamp down a smile. “Dance. With me.”

“Fuck.” Hob hisses and wraps an arm around Dream’s waist, pulling them flush. It is like an ocean wave crashing into his body, a force of nature, flowing into and up his torso, eroding away any barriers Dream has left. “Yes. Of course I want to dance with you, you absolutely irresistible, gorgeous personification of hedonism. I have wanted to touch you from the moment we met.”

So long? Dream shivers with the excitement that his feelings are reciprocated. And the anticipation of what awaits them. “Then touch.”

Hob moans and buries his face in Dream’s neck, grinding their hips together in time with the beat. He doesn’t kiss or bite, just breathes and presses them close. But he doesn’t touch. Not like Dream wants him to.

Dream drops his hands to Hob’s wrists. “I said,” he moves one hand to grope his chest and the other to grab his ass, “touch.”

“Fucking hell,” Hob swears into Dream’s ear, breath heavy. “Who are you and where did you put my friend Dream?”

“This version of your friend has always been here. Waiting for you.”

Hob chuckles and it vibrates through Dream’s chest, a rush of warmth. “So you are saying I have been an idiot.”

Dream smiles. He pulls on Hob’s hair, pulling him back so that they are nose-to-nose, breathing on each other’s lips. “You are only an idiot if you stop.”

Hob melts into Dream’s kiss, paws at Dream where his hands were placed, and Dream feels the exact moment that he realizes it – Hob’s entire body stutters and he pulls back from the kiss with a gasp. “Oh no. Oh fuck. Did you? Are you?”

He responds with a smirk and unbuttons more of his shirt, enough to bare his shoulder and one pectoral. The black lace and red satin of the bra stand out in stark contrast to his alabaster skin, pale from a life almost entirely on starships.

For a moment Hob just stares at the garment, mouth agog. Then he is dragging Dream by the hips through the crowd growling, “We need to leave. Right. Now.”

They are in Dream’s temporary dirtside quarters so fast they might as well have beamed over. Hob slams him into the wall as soon as the door whooshes shut, the impact hard enough to cause the digital picture in the wall to flicker. Dream snarls and shoves back, driving Hob into the wall opposite and knocking a vase and flowers off the small table.

“Fuck me.” Hob gasps, pulling Dream’s shirt hem from being tucked inside his charcoal trousers. The motions are jerky and frantic and the last button just zings across the room as he reveals Dream’s torso and pulls the shirt off of his arms. Hob’s hands burn as they stroke from shoulder to hip, down once, then back up. “Fuck me.”

Dream fists both hands in the sweat damp umber hair and yanks Hob’s head back so that he can look into his eyes. “Actually, I was thinking the other way around. Would you let me strap you down? Could I tie you to my bed and ride you, Hob?”

Hob’s kiss is biting, a pact made in blood. “Yes. Fuck yes.” Dream may be taller but Hob easily lifts him and maneuvers further into the apartment. “Anything. I will do anything for you. You perfect fucking dream.”

Suddenly the bed is beneath them and Dream is straddling Hob’s lap and he can only smirk as he shimmies his trousers down. Beneath the charcoal wool is more black lace and red satin – garters, thigh-high stockings, and panties. Hob makes this nasal, desperate noise, so Dream backs away, stands up and lets the pants drop as he kicks off his boots. Then he turns around to show Hob his ass.

“You glorious minx, Holy Christ.” Hob’s large hands are bracketing Dream’s hips pulling him in between Hob's knees. Fingers travel over the exposed skin of his ass, not pushing in between but almost, confirming that yes, he is exposed from waistband to balls. “You are gonna ride me with all this on, aren’t you? Is that your plan?"

"Have to get your clothes off first but y-aah!" Dream is flung to the bed on his back and Hob is shucking off clothes as fast as a cadet getting out of full formal dress. Then he is over at the replicator and back with lube before Dream finishes laughing.

"I'm gonna leave you to getting any tying down supplies, since you sound like you know what you are doing and I decidedly don't."

Dream watches, soaking in the view of Hob naked as he kneels beside him on the bed. "Are you asking if I am an experienced dom?" He trails his own hand from collarbone to thigh, back up, preening under the rapt attention from Hob. "Yes, I am, which is why I won't be tying you down tonight. We can negotiate that at another time. I am too desperate to get your cock in me to have a proper talk."

Hob drops down onto all fours over Dream, cups his jaw and plunders his mouth. "How can you just say shit like that?" He is trailing little bites and kisses down Dream's neck and he arches into it, holds on to Hob's shoulders like a lifeline, fingers sliding in the sweat building there. "You are going to be the death of me."

"Can we please leave my sister out of this?" Dream growls as he pushes himself up, wraps a leg around Hob's hips, and twists, rolling the other man under him. Hob grunts as he is pressed onto his back and drags Dream into another round of kissing. "Now pay attention, this question is important,” Dream says, pulling away even when Hob whines with the loss, “Will you let me sit on your face so you can open me up with your tongue?"

The moan Hob gives is something out of pornography; Dream would have thought it faked if he wasn’t watching as his lover’s eyes went hazy and his whole body shook. Hob can’t even get out words, although his throat seems to try. Then more kissing, getting sloppier and more uncoordinated by the second.

“Is that a yes?” Now Dream is just being a brat. He knows it. That isn’t going to stop him. If for some reason this is the only time he gets Hob in his bed he is going to damned well enjoy every second of it, smug bastard that he is. "Use your words, lover."

"Yes. Yes, get up here. Yes." Hob starts scrabbling at Dream's thighs, tugging him up the bed and snapping the garters in the process.

Dream has a moment where he considers turning around so that he might more easily touch Hob, bring him pleasure – but no, he hasn't earned his pleasure yet. When Dream settles his calves parallel to Hob's ears, Hob makes an inquiring sound, nudging Dream's feet with his biceps.

"Give me a proper rimming and maybe I will deign put my hand on your cock." Hob whimpers beneath him, but brings both hands up to cradle Dream's hip bones. "And keep your hands there, pet. No touching yourself and ruining all the fun.”

Hob sounds like he wants to respond but doesn't get a chance to because Dream grabs the top of the headboard and drops his body down onto Hob’s mouth.

Hob takes the cue and dives in, zero hesitation, neck arching so that he can get a better angle, fingers digging around Dream’s hips so he can pull himself up and in. A few long flat swipes of his tongue over Dream’s hole then he is stabbing inwards, twisting and curling his tongue to pet and stroke where the skin turns smooth and wet and sensitive.

Dream cries out, grasps at words, trying to encourage, but finding only vowels can escape. Oh fuck, Hob knows well what he is doing, has clearly had practice in this type of sex, and sweet Christ he wishes that he had Hob’s cock in his mouth. It would sit heavy on his tongue and he could drive it deep enough to close off his airway, make himself even dizzier using Hob’s body. Instead, Dream grinds down onto Hob’s chin with an ecstatic, drawn out “Aaaaaaa!”

A pleased moan rumbles from Hob’s throat up Dream’s spine, making him snap his head back and sob to the ceiling. And still Hob pulls him down further, pushes himself deeper. Dream’s grip on his hair is no doubt painful, and the way he has started fucking himself down onto Hob’s tongue might bruise his nose, but this is what they have advanced medicine for. Death no longer even asks when he shows up in medbay, him or his partner looking fucked five ways to Sunday and asking for a quick heal-up.

Fuck it. Dream wants to come like this, Hob’s tongue and lips and teeth buried in his ass, rutting down onto his face slick with spit. It feels too goddamned good not to. So he shoves the panties down, grabs his prick in his fist, and fucks up into it as he rocks down onto Hob’s tongue and yes, there just like that. He comes all over the headboard, multiple spurts creating tangled stripes of his seed across the metal, and then he is empty, so empty, it is an ache he needs to fill and suddenly Hob’s tongue is nowhere near enough.

With a growl Dream is crawling backwards and now here is the benefit of this position because can grab the lube from where it has rolled to sit against Hob’s waist, continue backwards and he only needs to slather Hob’s cock liberally before he can sink down onto it and yes, oh yes. That. There.

Hob has barely caught his breath when Dream impales himself and he sounds like he has gone six rounds of bareknuckle boxing in three seconds. Looks it, too – all wide-eyed and sweaty, jaw slack and hair mussed to all hell, gaze unable to quite focus as his chest heaves. It takes a moment, but then Hob closes his eyes and smiles, laughing breathlessly as he swipes his fingers across the headboard and then brings his cum-smeared hand to his mouth. “Mmmm, you came riding my face.”

Now fully seated, Hob’s cock buried to the hilt, Dream stretches forward, sliding his hands up Hob’s belly and into his chest hair and over his shoulders. “That wasn’t my original plan, but yes. Felt too good not to.”

He pushes a hand into Dream’s hair, pets him. It is soft and affectionate and makes warmth bloom again in Dream’s pelvis. “Glad to know all that practice I got during my Academy days didn’t go to waste.”

Dream smiles, truly smiles, not something snarky or smug, and runs his fingertips over Hob’s lips. Hob nips at them once and Dream flicks his nose in return, both of them huffing out laughter. He is happy here, Dream realizes, stretched around Hob’s cock and across his chest, so, of course, his mouth goes and tries to do something exceptionally, extraordinarily stupid. “I luh–”

Dream slaps his hand over his mouth so hard it makes his teeth rattle and freezes. Too much. Always too fucking much. And now he’s gone and ruined it again and maybe he should just give up and go full spy like Ash is always trying to convince him – just disappear into the ether never to be heard from again. The Section can always use innovative neuroengineers like you, Dream. Ash says as he smiles that fucking charming ass smile. And I can always use a good deep dicking to keep my head on straight during tense missions. First Officer with benefits?

He closes his eyes and shoves the image of Commander Tyler away. Big brown eyes and a roguish smile always were his biggest weaknesses.

Hob wraps an arm around Dream and levers them both up, up until Dream is sitting in his lap and he is reminded that yes, he still has Hob’s fucking lovely cock inside him. He keeps his eyes wrenched closed, can’t bear to look at him as he whispers, “I’m so–”

“So help me god if you apologize right now Dream...” Dream’s eyes slam open and his mouth snaps shut. Hob gently removes Dream’s hand from his mouth and threads their fingers together. “Do you have any fucking idea how many of your friends and exes I have talked to while trying to figure out how to catch you for myself? Now who is too much, eh?”

Dream blinks about a hundred times in rapid succession. “You…”

“Please,” Hob presses their foreheads together, “please don’t stop. Just let me make love to you once. Then we can put all of our cards on the table and see if our baggage matches up.”

Make love to you. Dream cups Hob’s sticky face with his free hand and smiles. “That metaphor makes no sense.”

Hob’s relief is palpable as he presses their lips together in a soft, chaste kiss. “I am so worked up you are lucky I am even vaguely coherent.”

A smirk is back on Dream’s face, “So I shouldn’t do this?” Dream clenches down with his pelvic floor muscles.

“Fucking hell.” Hob lowers himself back to the bed and rolls his hips up into Dream, whose eyes flutter with the sliding sensation. “Only do that if you want me spent in 30 seconds. But if we play this just right,” Hob rolls up again and forces a soft unf from Dream, “I can fuck you into another orgasm so we can go together.”

They are rocking into each other, slow gentle movements that set Dream’s nerve endings on fire. “And what do you know of my refractory period?”

“Darling, I’ve spoken with both Calliope and Ash. Who send their blessings for us, by the way.”

“Traitors.” Dream says with exactly zero heat behind it, speeding up slightly and then leaning back. He puts his hand below his navel, snaps his hips down and imagines he can feel Hob’s dick buried in him. The image, of Hob filling him, thrusting deep into the guts of him, shoots arousal into every limb and he starts fucking himself harder, but with a steady slow pace.

He loves this, the ebb and flow of a lover into and out of his body, could do this for hours if given the chance. Once, years ago, a relatively unobservant dom tried to use this as torture when Dream got it in his head to sub for her, only to find him coming for the fifth time, completely dry, not a drop of liquid left in his cock or balls, screaming in ecstasy.

Hob’s hands are everywhere, petting every inch of skin he can reach, running over the lingerie and sliding beneath it, but never even grazing Dream’s half-hard cock. Speaking of traitors.

"So beautiful." Hob whispers, almost reverent. Dream can feel the flush bloom on his cheeks, but sitting astride Hob leaves him no place to hide, so he looks away. Only to have a firm hand turn his face back to forward. “No. None of that. You are. Come on, dove, let me see you.” He tugs at the band of the bra. It is quick work for Dream to unlatch it, shrug it off and Hob is grinning stupidly by the end. “You did that real fast. Like you do it all the time.” His hands roam up Dream’s thighs and snap the garters. “How often are you wearing these while on duty, Dream?”

Dream doesn’t answer, just starts moving faster, breathing puffing with exertion now. He caresses his stomach and chest again, pinches one of his nipples with his fingers until Hob bats him away to do it for him. He keeps tugging and twisting, harder and harder, alternating between them, until they are deep pink and Dream is crying out above him.

Finally, he is bouncing himself in earnest, hard cock bobbing with it, and Hob grabs one of his hips to hold on as he starts thrusting up to meet him. The slapping of their skin is loud in the small room – Dream can hear it even over the sound of his own moans and wails. It is so good. Better than good. It feels like Hob goddamned well belongs there, stuffed inside Dream, laid out between his legs, moaning his name from scream-chapped lips.

Hob goes to grab for Dream’s dick and he smacks his hand away. “Absolutely not. Wait until I tell you.”

“Oh fuck.” He watches as Hob’s eyes close and he starts gripping Dream’s hips hard enough to bruise. “I’m close. You better… soon…”

Dream leans back again, changing the angle and ramming his prostate directly onto the head of Hob’s cock. “Yes! Yeessss. Just let me… oh fuck yes.” Again. And again. And again. And again. And, “Now Hob!”

Hob grabs Dream’s cock, too tight and perfect and Dream fucks up into that calloused fist just once before he is screaming out his orgasm, hands reaching back to claw up the backs of Hob’s sweaty, furred thighs. Streaks of white shoot onto Hob’s chest, across his neck and collarbone and chest hair.

His cock stops spurting and twitching but Dream does not stop moving, fucking himself through the start of the aftershocks and shouting, pleading with Hob. “Come in me. Want your seed dripping down my thighs. Fill me, Hob.”

One more snap down of Dream’s hips and Hob is obeying, body going taut and arching and he damned well looks like some ancient painting of a person succumbing to a lustful demon, skin shining with sweat in the dim lights of the room. And then Hob’s moans turn into sobs when Dream keeps fucking himself well into Hob’s oversensitivity, until Hob’s cum is being pushed out of him around the softening cock, making an obscene squelching noise that has Dream smiling and almost purring as he slows to a stop.

Dream collapses like his strings have been cut, flops down gracelessly next to Hob, chest a heaving bellows. He lets his eyes close under the weight of the pleasure had. There is an absolutely dopey grin on his face and he cannot bring himself to care.

Silence, warm and comfortable, settles between them. Eventually Hob’s hand finds its way to tangle with one of Dream’s. He squeezes once. Dream squeezes back.

When Dream finally gets around to opening his eyes he finds Hob watching him, a soft smile on his face. “You are so fucking beautiful.” Hob turns onto his side so that he can bring one hand up and trail gentle fingertips across Dream’s cheekbone. “You are stunning, Dream. And if someone hasn’t told you that every day of your life then I damn well volunteer to finish the job, whether I ever have you in my bed again or not.”

Dream gets up just enough to bring his lips to Hob’s so that they can kiss, leisurely and languid, savoring taste and texture. Dream feels like he could fit here, make a home for himself in Hob’s body. He wants to. “How about we start with a shower?”

#Dreamling #Star Trek AU #human AU #Dream of the Endless #Hob Gadling #The Sandman AU #julykinkfest2023

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dukeofriven · 11 months

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Most Boring Trek Boyfriend

#star trek #trek #dsp #snw #tng #std #star trek discovery #strange new worlds #on one hand Gray Tal is the worst-written character in all of Trek #on the other hand Bariel is a charisma void #he has negative screen presence

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adastrafanfic · 8 months

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Archive ◊ Discord ◊ Forums ◊ Tumblr ◊ Dreamwidth ◊ Twitter ◊ Pillowfort

Ad Astra News - 8/20 - 8/26

State of the Archive Still pretty chill! Not a lot of stories added this week, but for a lot of people -- students, parents, etc. -- we're heading into the season where things start to get more hectic with school. Which, speaking of:

Weekly Challenge #18: Back to School So, in honor (or lament) of returning to classes, this challenge is all about that theme. Continuing education for your faves? Or maybe we step back to when they were wee and see what they were like in primary or secondary? Whatever you do with the prompt, it's between 100 and 700 words.

Post it to the archive under Weekly Challenge: Back to School and don't forget to add it to the collection!

Challenge ends on September 1st at 11:59PM Eastern.

Stories Archived

★ denotes Weekly Challenge Entry

Star Trek: Discovery

by lah_mrh Rewritten - G - Ash Tyler| Voq/Christopher Pike The First Day of the Rest of Your Life - G - Ash Tyler| Voq/Christopher Pike A Sky Full of Stars - T - Ash Tyler | Voq/Christopher Pike One Day at a Time - T - Ash Tyler| Voq/Christopher Pike

Star Trek: Strange New Worlds

by LadyEmma Lieutenant Commander - E - Montgomery "Scotty" Scott/Nyota Uhura

Star Trek: The Original Series

by Beatrice_Otter All the Difference - G - Leonard "Bones" McCoy & Spock by lah_mrh Blood Red - T - Original Characters by h3llaanja Scraps of Untainted Sky - T - Spock/OFC, Montgomery "Scotty" Scott

Star Trek: Alternate Original Series

by daraoakwise ★ The Going - G - Montgomery "Scotty" Scott (AOS) by lah_mrh A Stolen Moment - G - James T. Kirk (AOS)/Spock (AOS), Nyota Uhura (AOS)

Alternate Universes

by LordRobertBruceScott Star Beagle Adventures Episode 3: Yours Is No Disgrace - T - Ensemble

#star trek #fanfic #trek fanfic #ad astra #ad astra fanfic #st:tos #trekfic #st:aos #st:dsc #st:snw

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andromedaa-starss · 2 years

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i love you hikaru sulu i love you keiko o'brien i love you alyssa ogawa i love you julian bashir i love you harry kim i love you hoshi sato i love you ash tyler i love you gen rhys i love you la'an noonien singh i love you lieutenant mitchell i love you lieutenant kyle i love you t'pring i love you asian characters in trek

#star trek #tos #tng #ds9 #voy #ent #discovery #snw #novapost #let me know if im missing anyone

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giasesshoumaru · 2 years

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“All my life, the conflict inside me has been between logic, and emotion. But now it's my emotions that are fighting. I think about him and I want to cry. But... I have to smile. And I feel angry. But I want to love. And I'm hurt, but there's hope. What is this?"

“Ah, it's just... being human.” - Michael Burnham and Lieutenant Ash Tyler (Star Trek: Discovery, Episode 1.6)

#star trek discovery #star trek #michael burnham #ash tyler

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pathlit · 6 months

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⤷ ✧ @uncertainlogic said, ❝ please , just let me explain myself . ❞ ( from ash )

he had left the bridge wordlessly, for once, no mockery upon his lips, nor criticism. four words to hand over the conn, and no more. they would know, regardless. let them sit with it, face it in silence. the others will avoid him, but tyler has never been as wary as them, and for perhaps the first time it offers an annoyance, like a fly's persistent buzzing. he doesn't stop even as the man catches up to him, for all he must have run to accomplish the feat so long are gabriel's strides. ❛ what is there to explain, lieutenant? ❜

gabriel is angry, words sharp and expression shuttered. lines stand in sharp relief in the tension that tugs at his jaw, at the corner of his eyes, across the breadth of his forehead. he knows, deep down, even as he glowers at the crew, at his chief of security, that he is not angry with tyler, nor with rhys, nor with detmer or owosekun or any of the others.

it is easier to deflect his anger outwards than to hold onto it with a grasp of steel and let it fester. his anger is rather at himself, and he does not, and never has, known how to sit with it. ❛ we failed. there is no more to be said. ❜

#uncertainlogic #uncertainlogic : ash tyler #uncertainlogic:asks #— file ✧ gabriel lorca.#— gabriel ✧ interactions.#I am SO SORRY to ash omg

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qhqjatl34 · 1 year

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모범택시 시즌1 다시보기 1회~16회 (완결) SBS 드라

First appeared in Episode 3 of Season 2. Elrel, who has become the new Klingon leader and signed an armistice with the Federation of Planets, faces opposition from other Klingon families and is about to be ousted from his throne. Section 31 then decides that in order for peace between the Federation and the Klingons, the moderate Elel must remain as leader, and Philippa (Emperor) is secretly dispatched. Philippa rescues Elrel and Ash Tyler from being killed, and recruits Ash Tyler as an agent of Section 31 like herself.

Mirror Universe Philippa's official identity after living in the Prime Universe is "Philippa George of the Prime Universe".[13] In other words, it is a secret that only a few people in Starfleet know that Philippa of the mirror universe is actually the Emperor of the Earth Empire. However, as season 2 progresses, Philippa herself reveals her identity secretly or even openly, and the crew of the Discovery show an eccentricity (?) of accepting the situation casually.

In Episode 13 of Season 2, when Mirror Universe Philippa boarded the Enterprise, Captain Pike said, "Captain George Woo, welcome to the Enterprise." In other words, until this time, it seemed that Philippa of the mirror universe was maintaining the rank of captain (colonel) of Philippa of the prime universe. However, in the very next episode, Episode 14 (the last episode of Season 2), when he informs the bridge that he won the fight against Leland, Saru, the acting captain, replies, "I understand, Lieutenant Colonel." After that, in Season 3, other members continue to call him Lieutenant Colonel. It is unknown whether the ranks while belonging to Starfleet and the ranks belonging to Section 31 are different, or whether the ranks were changed in the last episode of season 2. If Philippa maintains the rank of colonel, he will become the highest ranking officer of the Discovery and will be captain of the Discovery. He may have demoted from Starfleet right before Discovery left for the future, fearing that a dead end would happen.

He is later tasked with chasing down Spock, who is Michael's half-brother and is said to have gone insane, committed murder, and fled. In the process, he is reunited with Michael, who was pardoned for ending the war and reinstated as a lieutenant colonel. At this time, he meets not only Michael, but also Christopher Pike, the temporary captain of the Discovery. Since Captain Pike was a classmate of Prime Universe's Philippa at Starfleet Academy, he is internally surprised that Philippa's personality and behavior are so different from what he knew, and later asks Michael about it. Since the identity of Philippa in the mirror universe is a Star Fleet secret, Michael is unable to tell the truth, suggesting that Philippa's personality has changed since she went through a brutal war.[14]

After that, he pretends to be a 'person who retired as a Starfleet captain and became a consultant for Section 31' and performs various missions of Section 31. At the same time, she usually scratches Michael's insides and argues, but when Michael is in danger, she subtly shows motherly love and helps from behind.

When the Discovery became dangerous due to the invasion of hyphae, the captain of Section 31, Erland, helped the Discovery, and later, when the situation became dangerous with the Section 31 ship, he tried to get out of her feet. At this time, Philippa steps up for Michael aboard the Discovery, revealing that she knows that Rand has been on a mission in her past and has hidden her mistakes from superiors, and she blackmails Rand into continuing to help the Discovery. [15]

Ruland said he would treat Spock, who seemed to have become a psychopath, but in fact tried to extract Spock's memories by force, risking making Spock a disabled person in order to get him to confess about the 7 signs. He then told Michael about it and helped Michael escape with Spock.

While working for Section 31, he learns that Leland is responsible for the deaths of Michael's biological parents. Michael couldn't bear to tell Michael the secret about Michael's birth parents, and secretly pressured Roland and secretly informed Michael that Roland was hiding something, which made Roland himself tell Michael the

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kelpiencomplexities · 6 years

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Ash/Voq Icons S1 E10 (1st Half)

Under the cut there are 45 Ash/Voq Icons (150x150px) from Star Trek Discovery Season 1 Episode 10: Despite Yourself. Credit would be welcomed if you use them, please like the post if you do!

#Lieutenant Ash Tyler #Ash Tyler #Lieutenant Tyler #Voq #Shazad Latif #Star Trek Discovery #Despite Yourself #IMAGE HEAVY

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writinredhead · 6 years

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Star Trek Discovery Aesthetics - Lt. Ash Tyler

There's no place I'd rather be.

Character Aesthetics 3/?

#ash tyler #lieutenant tyler #lieutenant ash tyler #star trek discovery #ashtyleredit #al makes an aesthetic #for disco trek for a change #ash puppy tyler #sorry hun the neon sign doesn't really fit for you

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zenosanalytic · 7 years

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Discovery: Lethe II

Ok so, first off, I just want to say that this was Everything I ever wanted Trek to be :|

Intimate, ambiguous, detailed examinations of non-human cultures

POLITICS >:] >:] >:]

diplomacy as heroic and dangerous

A Starfleet and Fed where Feelings and mental health are just as important and valued as strategic or tactical concerns.

relationships and The Personal tied directly to principles, institutions, and larger events

exploring relationships, personalities, ethics, and what it means to be alive in the World through symbolic, fantastical situations

positive, life-affirming, sympathetic, casual sex portrayed without objectification or exploitation

tortuously sympathetic villains

damaged people behaving badly and portrayed with nuance and sympathy

Trauma affecting people, affecting the World through people, and people dealing with Trauma in various ways with various levels of success and healthiness

AMANDA!

Sarek being a bad Dad

Sarek being locked in a glass-case of Emotion

People being called out on their Shit

Science officers being all “Fuck it; let’s get Weird!”

Concise, confident, tight sci-fi writing. For example: the basic idea of the mind-meld-machine is established clearly and crisply, and doesn’t degenerate into technobabble, or rely on magic disguised as tech(quantum! nano! tachyons! etc, etc). Everything clinks together, everything runs smoothly, nothing snags, contradicts, or confuses

This ep really impressed me with how incredibly savvy the crew making this show is, and how much they think about how the fanbase will potentially be reacting when they see the eps. There were moments in previous eps like this, but Lethe is repeatedly fan-conscious, and without ever endangering the 4th wall. The “Disco” sweats can be explained -it’d be easy for NBC to promote “Disco” as the preferred nick in the fandom without seeming to- but the writing for Ash in this ep, and how it interacts with the theory that he’s Voq, is just so obviously aware that people would suspect this.

The rest of this got kinda long, so I’m putting it under the cut.

Catching Ash

When Lorcas says “you fight like a Klingon”, Ash responds not by joking or treating it as a compliment(which you might expect given his ingratiating lie about his kill count), but by trying to explain it away and apologize for it, like he was worried by the comment, and in a way -“Klingon guards beating on me for 7 months, I was bound to pick something up”- that emphasizes his awareness and toughness; calculated to appeal to the sort of person Lorca has shown Ash he is. The things he says to Burnham about loss and death; the potential irony of having him, twice in the episode, emphasize and explain humanness; the way his concern for Burnham conveniently ingratiates him to Lorca(by following his orders over the mission) and builds an emotional bond with someone Lorca obvsl considers an asset; all of these have both innocuous and foreboding interpretations. There are even these little subtle touches to his performance that aren’t entirely out of the realm for a human, but oddly Klingon-aggressive: how he hits the table to emphasize the here-and-now when talking to a stranger; his sarcastic dismissiveness towards Tilly and Burnham’s discussion of her emotions. And then there’s his speech about death, failure, and loss to Burnham, something that could have easily come out of the mouth of a Voq trained to act like a human.

Even the title of the episode can be read as playing into this. Titles so far have been thematic; sometimes even used in the episode themselves. Lethe, of course, is the River of Forgetfulness in Greek Myth, on the shores of which the Dead leave the memories of their former life. But who is “Crossing the Lethe” here? Who is doing the forgetting; who is putting their past life behind them? The ep is about Sarek and Michael’s memories and bond, not the denial or loss of them. The final scene in sickbay establishes that Sarek has not forgotten the Meld which saved him in the nebula anymore than the past which binds him to Michael; he lies to avoid the shame of his betrayal, of facing the harm he’d done to Michael(a person he loves), and all the emotions that act and knowledge dredges up in him(not a terribly Vulcan way to behave, lying to avoid consequences).

The point of Michael’s role in all of this is that she hasn’t forgotten any of it. Nor has Lorca forgotten or placed anything behind; his inability to forget and refusal to heal is the engine of his subplot, of his trauma, and of his villainy, in the ep and in the series as a whole. Lorca’s attachment to the Pain he has Chosen drives him to manipulate a friend, to abandon her to torture and degradation, to push, manipulate, and oppress his crew, and to sleep with a phaser under his pillow at night.

But, if Ash is Voq, all this talk about his humanity and about what is is to be human, is a rejection of his Klingonness; a kind of forgetting. It is the final step in a deliberate, decisive setting aside of his past life for the sake of his mission to save and unify the Klingons under T’Kumva’s philosophy. And there’s another aspect to Lethe, too, which could potentially play into this; lethe also means “concealment”, and is the negated element within the Greek word for truth, alethia(lit. “unconcealment, unoblivion, unforgetfulness”). Lorca and Sarek are both concealing and dishonest in this episode but, if Ash is Voq the Torchbearer, it would also apply to him as well. It’s a very nice meta-element to the ep, a kind of non-subplot-subplot, and their deliberate cultivation of it shows an awareness of and desire to engage with the fandom which I appreciate.

Ok, so WOW; that’s a lot of text!, but I’m not done yet.

Our Faces, Our Selves

This ep had some truly great Tilly moments. The gesture she does when she says “personality” was Endearing and characterizing as Hell. Whether it was written in or if Wiseman added it herself, it’s a wonderful example of the non-aggressive physicality her performance has displayed so far. Also -though technically a Burnham moment as well- the contrast between her natural stride and the precise form Michael runs in was both Fun and Great. “Computer, green Juice, extra Green”; Perfect u_u “*whispered* computeraddsalsa... Ohmygod you are so scary!” Magnificent u_u u_u “Oh Kaaay >:|... He actually is, though.” Majestic u_u u_u u_u

The intent to make Cadet Tilly the “Emotional Heart” of the show is extremely obvious, but it actually works because of just how well executed in basically every respect(even something as small as allowing her face to be blotchy and blemished invites audience attachment) it is. And because her personality is basically that of a puppy-dog, and puppies aren’t terribly subtle either, the obvs intent doesn’t grind up against her characterization, or Wiseman’s performance. Her humor is effortless, natural, youthful, and casually disarming. The interlocking web of support between her and Burnham -Burnham teaching her the discipline of excellence and pushing her to pursue it; Tilly engaging her emotionally, sometimes even pushing, without being disrespectful- is convincing, earned through time and interaction, and endearing. That she is simultaneously in awe and protective of Burnham, yet cognizant enough of her weaknesses, and at ease/trusted enough with her, to prompt socialization when she balks out of anxiety, awkwardness, and shame, is entirely believable. And her FACE! The ways Wiseman uses her face, the subtle little things she does, in this episode are just... So Wonderful. I kinda feel like going back over the previous eps just to see if I missed similar work in them.

Frain’s face work as Sarek in this ep is equally impressive. We see more of it in the third contact, but for some reason it’s the stuff in the second contact that stood out most to me. At that point it hasn’t yet been made explicit that Burnham has an incomplete understanding of the event and Sarek’s reactions to it but here -in the minor hesitation and stony, unnatural setting of his jaw and torso as he too slowly turns away from the director; his blinking look and respectful nod to Michael; the blink-and-you-miss-it shaking of his jaw and lips; his emotion-controlling intake of breath before he breaks the bad news; his gulp and the tension in his eyes as he looks at Amanda, the pleading tone as he offers his dishonest explanation; the sorrow on his face and shameful lowering of his head as Burnham asks to leave- we see the first signs that things aren’t as they appear.

And then the third contact. In the initial struggle with Burnham his eyes are particularly important, though the angle obscures them somewhat so this is mostly done through blinking. When she asks “is it worth dying over” there is a flash of stubbornness -he opens his eyes wider, raises his head to look at her straight- followed immediately by a lowering blink and assessing rove of his eyes over her face. As she says “let me in” he blinks and looks down, considering. As he says “I never lost faith in you” he rapidly blinks two or three times, then squints. Finally there’s this little tongue-flick he does on “I will show you”, a mannerism usually associated with consideration or nervousness, that just really stood out and sold his discomfort to me.

Then his talk with the director! When Frain says “Acceptance with honors is her due” there is this wonderful chain of expressions, starting with a raise of the eyes and forehead on “Acceptance” and ending with a slight clench and drawing back, then jutting of the jaw on “due” that just screams pride, assurance, and arrogance. Sarek knew that, by the logical terms of Vulcan society, Burnham had more than earned her place. Then the blinking drawing back of his head at encountering the Director’s racism; his contained, hidden affront at not just the personal insult to his child, and thus to himself, but at the illogic of the Director’s bigotry, yet obviously too common and accepted to challenge publicly if he can voice it so openly to someone of such high social rank. So Sarek dodges the subject; moves it back away from race and the personal onto ideological grounds, hoping to turn the situation around by trapping the Director in the essential contradictions of his position while subtly seeking to defuse his anti-human bias by dehumanizing Burnham via discussing her as a work rather than a person. His face conveys this too; he turns and dips very slightly it to the left, looking partially side-eyed and from under his brow at the Director, conveying cleverness but also a self-satisfaction, as if he’s looking both at the Director, and above him at his vision of wedding Human and Vulcan cultures. The Director out-maneuvers him by turning his argument around; bringing Spock into the discussion. At “Twice” Frain snaps his head up, as if struck. Questioning Spock’s relevance his head shakes, his eyes tighten. At “Non-Vulcan” Frain gives an almost relieved negation, shaking his head, closing his eyes with brows angled down, saying “Spock is” only to be cut off by “Half-Vulcan”. Then the deepest cut; the Director, smirking, goes on to call Spock “another one of your Experiments”, not only insulting him by dehumanizing his children, but also through sarcastic irony; the Director’s tone and face expresses a suspicion Sarek is emotionally attached to them, thus his statements are also mocking these “unVulcan” feelings Sarek might have for them. And then Frain’s wiggle of the lips and blank eyes at “not-quite-Vulcans” just... DAMN!

Ok that bit was... also very long, so I’ll stop there X| But, like I said, EXCELLENT face work, both enough to convey to the humans watching his feelings, and the sort of Vulcan disciplined suppression Trek fans would expect, and I was really impressed by it. But before moving on, I just want to point out a clear but subtle irony here. Green’s performance as Burnham is far more controlled in her reactions to witnessing this racism and anguished betrayal, keeping it mostly to her eyes, and the ever-present tension between her brows. The rest of Green/Burnham’s face remains disciplined and contained in a way Frain/Sarek’s does not, nor that of the Director. Basically, her self-possession out-Vulcans both of the Vulcans present, disproving the Director’s racist arguments. Just really excellent physicality in this ep, even on the smallest details.

Sympathy for the Devil

This was a really great ep for Lorca, too.

I feel like it’s pretty clear that Lorca’s the central villain of Discovery(as much as any one person is “The Villain” rather than nebulous concepts like “misunderstanding” and “arrogance” and “cultural chauvinism”), but he’s a very well and ambiguously written, sympathetic villain. That, inevitably, invites the audience to sympathize with him and forget that he’s the villain. With the Tardigrade set free and Spore-Drive Displacements no longer getting top-billing it’s been awhile since the audience has seen him directly harm other people. It’s been two weeks since we saw him goad his crew by playing the anguished, fearful, dying screams of human colonists over the com. And last week we saw him being friendly with SF Command, being captured, having his weaknesses taken advantage of to torture him, and seeming to think his way out of a terrible situation with insight and daring. We also saw him betrayed by Mudd, and learned his tragic backstory. All of this invites sympathy, and the forgetting of his past misdeeds.

And at first the ep reinforces that. We see him testing and extending his trust to Ash, showing concern for Burnham, risking his ship to both save a long-loved character(Sarek) and protect the protagonist, and finally reconnecting with an old friend through nostalgia and positive, respectful, mutual affection.

But under all of this -except re: Burnham and Sarek- there is a disturbing tremor. The angry, cold and calculating way he crushes that cookie; his private order to Ash; how quickly and masterfully he makes his meeting with Cornwall about their friendship, then escalates its intimacy, step by seducing step. And, just as inevitably, that tremor eventually explodes into a quake that shakes it all down. Rather symbolically(this series LOVES symbolism ^u^) it is Cornwall’s tracing of his scars which triggers his breakdown. In an instant his facade of control collapses, and Lorca goes from driven and in-control to a shaken man on the edge of breaking, sweat-sheened and begging not to lose his ship.

His trauma, in itself, only sympathizes him more of course, and how he deals with it -suppression and bluster when he can hide it, frantic deal-making and pleas when it is revealed- does so as well, to a point. Lorca is revealed once more as a manipulator, but he hasn’t yet harmed anyone. His renewed professions of concern and respect for Burnham sound like Sarek’s manipulations in reverse, but it takes the last scene -the camera panning to focus on his phaser after Lorca had abandoned Cornwall to the Klingons, paraphrasing her own words to justify it to Saru, the audience knowing that she was the only person who knew how far he had fallen and could remove him from command- to retroactively make them, and his scenes with Burnham at the start of the ep, Sinister. By casting aside an ally, friend, and lover the moment she became a threat to his power and ambition, the show reminds the audience of just how villainous and dangerous this tormented man truly is.

There’s a lot more to talk about here -I particularly think this was a very insightful episode about how this show conceives of Vulcan culture- but I think I’ll give the other issues their own posts.

#Star Trek #ST: Discovery #Lethe(Episode)#Lieutenant Ash Tyler #Sylvia Tilly #Sarek #Captain Gabriel Lorca #zA's Outside Viewing #zA's Trenchant Literary Criticism #TV Shows #Acting #ST: Disc Theories #ST: Disc Analysis #analytic posts

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