#that are backed up by data about vulcan

[fencesandfrogs]

i think it's funny that like. #spock biology quest exists, but also in my head vulcan years are human years and days are 24 hours long.

[stra-tek]

Random spoilerific reasons to read Star Trek novels, with little to no context:

Ro/Quark is a thing

A Jem'Hadar joins DS9, tries to fit in but eventually snaps and tries to kill everybody

You learn the origins and final fate of the Borg

A thinly-veiled Dr. House clone joins the Voyager crew

Geordi briefly has 2 girlfriends at once (due to different writers not co-ordinating enough, but still)

There's a TOS book that's a musical

There are YA stories about Jake and Nog making mischief on DS9

YA stories about Worf, Geordi, Picard, Beverly, Kirk, Spock and McCoy at SFA

YA series about the Kelvinverse gang (including Gaila!) as cadets, taking on a drug problem at SFA and a very unique Borg scout in San Francisco

We very briefly meet the people who are to Q what the Q are to humanity

Janeway/Chakotay is a thing

Kirk's first mission in command of the Enterprise! Erm, at least twice.

Kirk was married between TOS and TMP

Her name was Lori

In the future, you have yearly marriage contracts that you either update or you don't and I think that's amazing

Trip didn't die! He faked his death to join Section 31 and go undercover as a Romulan

It's not great, tbh

The ENT books get better after the Romulan wars though, it's proper founding of the Federation stuff

We meet Jack Crusher (erm, the OG) when 4 timelines start overlapping and he's a bit unhinged

Teenage Kirk stole a car and his choice was go to jail or join Starfleet

What happened when Voyager got home? Seven broke up with Chakotay like 30 pages in

Kirk gets cloned, and his clone becomes the sub of an evil invincible super genius and its all very gay

George Kirk was Robert April's first officer on the first ever mission of the unnamed starship with the Naval Construction Contract 1701

Robert is a hard-core pacifist and has to turn command over to George whenever it's time to fire weapons

Data becomes fully human for a couple of days and it's really sweet

They never say "wristwatch" or "phone", it's always "wrist chrono" or "personal comm"

There are gays but they don't say that word because it's the 1990's and Rick Berman runs the franchise

Spock has a son in the past with Zarabeth

Everyone in the post-Nemesis era does spy missions all the time non stop, as if Starfleet has abandoned exploring the cosmos for doing Space Mission: Impossible

Bashir does it better than anyone else, he takes on Section 31 from the inside

Remember Control? It's from the novels, except the novels do it SO MUCH BETTER.

Remember how we never found out who Future Guy was? We do.

It's very underwhelming, nobody we know

We find out how the Romulans and Vulcans split

Surak was a Vulcan internet blogger

A Borg Cube eats Pluto

Janeway dies

Janeway gets better

At least one TOS book features a wizard

There's a Star Trek TOS/Here Come the Brides crossover novel

It had cameos from The Doctor (as in, Who), Han Solo, Starbuck and others

Whole book series about Section 31

Whole book series about the Department of Temporal Investigations

One time they do the Bill and Ted thing to escape confinement and it works

Wanna know how Riker and Troi met?

Wanna know what Picard got up to on the Stargazer?

Andorians have 4 sexes and it's very complicated

Data comes back from the dead as Data 2.0, and it was fresh and exciting because it happened long before ST: Picard did it twice.

Lal comes back too and we get father/daughter android stuff! They have a home and everything but keep having to save the universe

One time Mirror Seven is led around on a leash naked on Terok Nor

Geordi becomes captain of the USS Challenger, decides it's not for him because plot, and goes back to engineering on the Enterprise

Kirk is shot on the bridge and dies

Kirk gets better

They watch 3D holos of old Doctor Who episodes in the Enterprise rec room

The Enterprise also has an AI named Moira, which was Zora long before Zora

The TOS crew get together for one last mission. About three times.

There's a Perry Mason book except it's about Kirk's lawyer from that TOS episode

Data 2.0 owns and runs a massive gambling empire on Orion

Spock keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

Scotty keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

Bones keeps randomly showing up everywhere in the TNG era

You're on Tumblr so you already know about Killing Time

There's a guy named McKenzie Calhoun and he's a total badass and captains a ship of weirdos and misfits

Kirk comes back from the dead, saves the galaxy repeatedly, has an intersex child (who identifies as male) with a Romulan/Klingon hybrid

Kirk beats up Worf

Kirk's child has superpowers

Kirk's child saves the galaxy at age 6

The Kirk stuff is 100% ignored in the other novels

About 50% of the novels are ignored in the other 50%, and the ones that are meant to be in direct continuity with each other aren't always quite

Just like the TV shows and movies, then

Lwaxana Troi meets Q, and it goes as well as you'd expect

Someone tells Data, yes you idiot you had emotions all along and he's like, oh shit you're right

McCoy is left in command of the Enterprise as a joke by Kirk, who is then immediately kidnapped

Ro Laren is captain of Deep Space Nine

Picard/Beverly is a thing, they get married and have a child named Rene. No running away and raising your kid in secret here

Riker and Troi are married, serve on the Titan together with a bunch of adorable weirdos and have a daughter named Tasha

You get to watch all the 24th century characters die horribly in the end along with their entire universe. Holy fuck it's a bleak horror show. Personally, I love it. But if that's not your cup of tea I'd skip the Coda trilogy

[delfiore]

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT. (1/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: you are sent to gain intel on the black widow by the organization that made you. a relationship with her makes you realize the joys of being human.

word count: 1.9k

a/n: this idea has literally been in my draft for almost two years now lolz

PART II, PART III

When you were activated, you were fully aware of your mission. You gained access to the instructions in nanoseconds; find information on the mind control mechanism used by the Red Room, and retrieve concrete formulaic data.

Tony Stark rarely opened interviews for a lab assistant, but you were invited right away for your ‘excellent display of scientific knowledge and skills in the laboratory’.

You anticipated your moments to be present in the lab. You knew Stark was working on improvements for Black Widow’s electro shock weapon. You stood a little straighter, looked a little too focused on reorganizing Stark’s projects, just to conceal your interest in the woman.

When she entered the lab, you let her eyes linger on you a little, before looking up. Her eyes were greener than you had thought.

Mission Log 001

First contact made. No sign of hostility. Amicable acquaintanceship expected.

FD700-16.

You went on your first date with Natasha a couple of months after your first meeting, all the while you made sure to play your part well. She took you to a fair down by the piers, where you pretended to miss your shots when trying your luck at the shooting range, so that she could display her skills and win you a teddy bear. By the end of the night, Natasha had felt comfortable enough to hold your hand as she walked you home.

“Tonight was fun,” she laughed quietly, the way lovesick teenage girls do.

“Yeah, it was,” you sighed.

All of your research told you the Black Widow rarely showed her true self to people. Even amongst her own Avengers teammates, Hawkeye was the only one she truly trusted. And yet, she grabbed your hand gently, and leaned in to kiss your cheek, and giggled when she pulled back.

“Goodnight.” She said, her voice as soft as the night’s winds.

You watched her leave for a moment before going back inside.

Your maker entrusted you to succeed. You were reminded of it everyday by the engraving on the sole of your foot that read ‘Property of VULCAN’. And you will.

You learned that Natasha liked to used sly comments to deflect personal questions. She could be very charming when she wanted to, but also genuine. You needed to appear harmless. So you opted for brighter colors in your outfit for the date in which Natasha asked you if you wanted to be in a relationship with her.

“Would you maybe . . . wanna be my girlfriend?” There was an unusual meekness to her demeanor that you haven’t really seen since your first date, but it made you all the more fascinated with your subject, and how multi-faceted she could be. Is this what all humans are like?

How do I be more like them?

“If not you, then who?” You let her swoop you into a feverish kiss.

For a moment, you felt at ease, light, human.

Mission Log 063

Subject has made advances and suggested a romantic relationship. Relationship established.

FD700-16.

You played along being her lover, all the while sending detailed information about her back to headquarters, where your maker, a man you only knew as Caesar, would receive them.

She also told you about her sister, and her adoptive parents one day when she came back from visiting them. She said they would be thrilled to meet you. You smiled and said you’d love to come to hear all the embarrassing stories about her when she was a kid.

They served you all the wonderful Russian delicacy when you came to visit which you were grateful for, and for the fact that you were made with a sense of taste and a digestive system. Yelena defended you from her parents when Alexei and Melina kept asking you too many questions. Her family was a weird bunch, but they worked together. You almost felt like you belong.

Mission Log 078

First contact made with agents from 1992-1995 Ohio mission.

Alexei Shostakov (adoptive father)

Melina Vostokoff (adoptive mother)

Yelena Belova (adoptive sister)

FD700-16.

Every touch, every hug, every kiss you shared with Natasha, you acted to perfection. It was imperative that she be convinced you loved her for you to gain her trust. You let her glide her hands anywhere she wanted along your body, touch you with the intensity she deemed right.

For the first time, you were shown the way humans show affection on a deeply personal and intimate level. This was what sexual intercourse was, you thought. You were aware that you would never be one of them, but you didn’t hold back sighs and moans of content when Natasha kissed you and touched you in all the ways that stimulated all the right nerve endings.

Though when Natasha lay naked beside you, her eyes closed as she slept soundly did you get the chance to really look at her without worrying about how she would look at you. And if you knew anything about beauty, you’d say it was her.

Caesar was getting impatient to find more information on the chemicals from the Red Room, so you needed to hurry on your search of the location of the file.

You tried to slip the conversation in as smoothly as you could, whenever it was just you and Natasha, whenever her guard was down. She never suspected a thing, and told you that the formula had been copied onto a disk, which has since been destroyed.

“I just think that it’s horrible.” You mumbled. “The key to weaponizing free will all contained in a tiny disk.”

“Okay, little Detective.” She chuckled and kissed your forehead. “I’m gonna crash now.”

You nodded and snuggled back into her arms.

“I love you.” She murmured.

You bit down on your teeth and held her closer.

Perhaps you loved her too.

“Close down for the night, will you?” Stark said before grabbing his coat.

“I will, Mr. Stark.” You nodded with a smile.

You watched him walked through the door of the lab. Once you were sure he was out of sight, you found a place to sit down, pretending that you were resting so as not to raise F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s suspicion.

Mission Log 085

The formula had been duplicated onto a disk, but subject thinks it has been destroyed.

Standby until further useful information is acquired.

FD700-16.

The next day, you woke up to a distressing message from Caesar:

“Advancing on Avengers Compound on the 25th. Retrieve the disk before then, or you’re shut down.”

The 25th was next Saturday. There was a coldness that ran down your back, a chilling dread at the pit of your stomach. Dread, fear. These feelings couldn’t have been in your original program, you were built to be fearless, but Caesar also built you to learn. Just like you learned to love Natasha.

Your Natasha.

She looked so peaceful in her sleep. It was a rare occurrence to see her let down her guard like this. She had just returned from a mission that took two weeks, and you convinced her to get a full night’s sleep instead of working on reports right away.

You let your fingers glide along her fringes, moving them out of her shut eyes, down to her cheekbones, then ghosting ever so slightly over her lips. You had become so familiar with her plump lips, and the way they behave like creatures in their own rights. Most of the time, you wished to press your own against them, and the pillowy sensation of it gave you what one could only describe as bliss.

“Morning,” she mumbled sleepily.

It was just the two of you here, the morning was early and still. Caesar could never take it away from you. You made sure to store this in your secret compartment, in which you only kept the most important files. Funnily enough, it was full of her.

You knew this day would come, you’d have to do what you were sent here for. But it didn’t hurt any less. You wanted to laugh: you have learned to hurt.

Mission Log 085

Give me two weeks. I’ll have it before then.

FD700-16.

At breakfast, you barely had the stomach to eat anything. You needed to come up with a plan to find the disk without Nat noticing. Every scenario you calculated resulted in the biggest catastrophes, none of them a happy ending.

Happy endings are for humans, not androids.

You felt a hand press against your thigh, and Nat was looking at you with a concern smile. “You okay, honey?” She asked. You felt tears pricking at the corner of your eyes. In a twisted scenario you conjured, void of the logical algorithm you were installed with, you saw yourself happy with Natasha. You wanted to throw your arms around her neck, and cry and confess everything, hoping that she had the heart to forgive you.

Instead, you only smiled, and intertwined your hand with hers. “I’m fine. Just a bit sleepy,” you lied.

A couple of days passed, and still, you heard nothing back from Caesar. You could only hope that he heeded your request.

The time not spent worrying about Caesar’s next move, you spent thinking of a way to extract the information you needed. You thought about texting Yelena or Melina to ask about it, but it would seem way too suspicious for Natasha to ask about something so important over text. So you opted for sweeping through her laptop. Sometimes what you seek lies right under your nose.

And rewarded you were. You found a lead in a file buried deep inside harmless looking files, titled ‘Photos’. The file needed decoding, but nothing that you couldn’t handle in a few minutes. You hovered your pinky over the USB hub, and when the tip of it morphed into a port, you quickly copied the file over.

“What are you doing?” Your blood ran cold. Natasha was walking over to you, unalarmed. Thankfully you were sitting against the bed frame.

“Just shopping around for ideas for Saturday night,” you shrugged casually, retracting your pinky. “What are you wearing?”

She let out a quick laugh. “You know I don’t care for Tony’s parties, so whatever’s on top of the pile.”

“And somehow you always manage to look gorgeous. Don’t you think it’s a little unfair?” You teased, setting the laptop aside.

A blush crept onto Nat’s cheek, as she found your hand to press a light kiss to it. When she looked back up at you, there was a tenderness in her eyes that made your knees buckle.

“I love you,” she confessed, “I never thought I’d ever be so happy. But you, you just—“ She shook her head with a smile, “you might have saved me.”

You were at a loss for words. There was an uneasy feeling bubbling in your stomach; pain, guilt, anger, you didn’t know. You loved her too, so much, and this moment should have been beautiful.

“Hey, don’t cry,” Nat cooed softly, wiping away at the corner of your eyes.

You only brought your arms around hers and kissed her deeply, afraid your words might fail you. Natasha, I’m not human, I’m a machine, I’m a spy, I was sent to ruin everything, you wanted to blurt out.

I’m not worthy of your love.

“I love you too,” you said instead. “So much.”

As much as a machine can love.

You spent the day tangled up in Natasha’s arms, warm and loved, until you receive Caesar’s message:

“New objective - FD700-16:

Eliminate Natasha Romanoff. Effective immediately.”

PART II, PART III

[indignantlemur]

Is there some lore about Andorians you’ve been dying to tell/explore further?

THERE IS SO MUCH LORE. You have no idea. I have lore about the characters and about Andorians in general, so since y'all weren't specific - you get a little of both! ANDORIAN LORE:

Andorian men are bitey. No, really - they're very prone to biting. It's a behaviour that stems from ancient instincts, and it actually involves social communication and pheromones! Andorians have well-developed vomeronasal organs in their nasal cavities (which Humans technically also have, but it's vestigial and we have no idea if it actually does anything anymore) and additional receptors along their soft palates.

Andorian men in a serious courtship are well known to periodically, and sometimes quite randomly, nibble on their partners. It's not just foreplay and affection - they're getting a massive info dump at the same time, collecting data on their partner's health, fertility, and even social well-being from pheromone markers left by other Andorians though physical contact. As Andorians are a very touchy-feely species, this can be quite a lot of information to parse!

Andorian women generally tolerate this behaviour with good humour, but there's been many a bondmate and spouse who's been driven off for being especially irritating about it. Expectant fathers are the worst for this, and it's not an uncommon sight to see miserable fathers-to-be congregating outside of the family home or at a local eatery, glumly waiting to be let back inside the house again.

Andorian men will also bite around the neck or shoulder during sex, which stems from an equally ancient instinct to keep a mate still during the proceedings. While Andorians in general have remarkably sharp teeth, featuring slightly elongated dual canine-incisors in both the upper and lower jaws, they also come equipped with protective chitin plating in those areas and otherwise have very few vulnerable blood vessels near the skin's surface. Most of the time, the bite ends up feeling more like a firm pressure clamped over a chitinous plate rather than a painful puncture wound.

And, yes, Andorian women are also bitey, but that's just because they're notoriously aggressive and they will fight you.

CHARACTER LORE:

To date, Ambassador Anlenthoris th'Kor has fathered six children, four of whom are currently living. Ten years before the Federation formed, he lost two of his sons to a Vulcan-Andorian border skirmish, along with the team Thoris had served with for many years. The incident almost resulted in open warfare between Andoria and Vulcan, but was narrowly avoided. He visits their markers on the Wall of Heroes every day that he's on Andoria.

[deepspacedukat]

The Lifeline - Part Two: The Armstrong

To be completely honest, I haven't exactly planned this fic out, so I have no idea how many chapters this will be. It'll be a surprise for everyone, myself included! 😇 And yep, i have a lot of asks and tagged posts to get around to, but I wanted to put this out first. Enjoy!

If you want to be added to or removed from my taglist, please let me know.

Part One is here.

Cross-posted to AO3 here.

~*~

Vreenak (ST:DS9) x Reader

[A/N: Future chapters will contain smut, so 18+ ONLY, MINORS DNI!!!]

Warnings: Spoilers for ST:VOY S1E7 "Eye of the Needle," references to Romulan politics, espionage, stalking, references to an interspecies relationship, pre-Romulan/Human relationship, interspecies romance, threats, angst, time travel bs, references to marriage/a mating bond, skeptical Vreenak, Romulan undercover as a Vulcan, mentions of a previous Vulcan/Human failed relationship.

~*~

After a few months aboard the USS Armstrong, we were finally going to see the Epsilon Pulsar Cluster up close! We took on new crew members at the Epsilon IX Station; four of which were engineers intended to ease the burden of repairs mid-mission, two were specially-qualified science officers, and one was simply a late addition.

It was the latter of the group that fascinated me. With keen, icy blue eyes, sharp facial features, and neatly-groomed hair, the new Vulcan Lieutenant had drawn my attention from the moment he materialized on the transporter pad in his science division blue uniform. The others were escorted to their stations and quarters by the Chief Engineer and the Science officer assigned to the Bridge, and I was assigned to Lieutenant Velek.

Tall and mildly intimidating, the stoic Vulcan stepped down from the transporter pad, and I offered him the traditional Vulcan ta'al in greeting as I introduced myself.

His eyes roamed the length of my body, seemingly sizing me up, but he did return my greeting after a pause. Undoubtedly, I was not who he expected to see when he beamed aboard.

"It is...agreeable to meet you, Lieutenant," he muttered after a moment, and assuming that was about all I was going to get out of him for the moment, I plastered on what I hoped was a welcoming smile.

"If you'll come with me, I'll show you to your quarters." Velek did so without protest. Giving him a short overview of our ship's upcoming mission to update Starfleet's data regarding the pulsar cluster, I tried to be as concise as possible. Though I kept my gaze firmly forward, I couldn't help but feel as though he was observing me.

Keying in the entry code for his quarters, I gave him a quick glance through the layout. Our ship was a little different than the standard science vessel in terms of accommodations. Starfleet meant for us to be a prototype for longer-term science missions into deep space, so there were a few more amenities than were standard.

If his expression was anything to go by - he'd lifted a single eyebrow all of twice - Velek was either impressed or turning his nose up in the most Vulcan way possible.

"If there's anything else you need, please don't hesitate to let me know. My quarters are actually just to the right of yours, so if the comms go down and you need a book or some tea or something, I won't be hard to find," I said clasping my hands behind my back as he turned to face me.

Velek's icy blue eyes gave me an appraising once over.

"Thank you, Lieutenant. I will keep that in mind." Now that we were alone, I was struck by how deep and velvety his voice was.

Fuck. No way. I couldn't do this again. I was just asking to get hurt if I developed feelings for another Vulcan, so I simply wouldn't be interested in this one. Velek was a colleague, nothing more. That was all he'd ever be.

"I'll leave you in peace," I murmured with a polite smile. "Your first duty shift begins at oh-nine-hundred tomorrow morning, so take some time to rest or explore the ship, as you see fit. I'll see you in Science Lab Three."

He gave a polite nod, and I left his quarters. Taking a deep, steadying breath once I was back in the hallway, I forcibly shook my thoughts back into neutral territory. Velek was not for me.

--

Vreenak's first step aboard the Armstrong was to determine the Lieutenant's schedule - a task made easier by the proximity of her quarters to his. Next, he slipped inside and placed a few listening devices. Audio and visual in her living space, and audio-only in her bedroom.

He was careful to disturb nothing during his time in her space, but he couldn't stop himself from glancing through the few books she'd accumulated. A pair of poetry books, a copy of Surak's teachings, three assorted fictional texts, and what appeared to be a romance novel. Tucking the title away in the recesses of his brain for further research, he placed secondary sets of bugs in extremely innocuous places, pausing only when he leaned over the head of her bed.

A soft, sweet scent clung to fabric that Vreenak simply couldn't resist inhaling deep into his lungs. Something primal and dark stirred in his chest, and he just barely managed to suppress a small groan of hunger.

Horror washed over him when he realized what he'd done, and with a scowl, he left as quietly as he'd come. As he sat in his quarters testing the equipment one last time while he had the chance, he scoffed at his own behavior.

Fool of a man. If he didn't control himself, he'd end up with a Human wife whether he wanted one or not. And he most certainly did not.

Especially not one like her. She was too–

Somewhere in the midst of his thoughts, the sound of voices reached Vreenak's ears. She was back, and she had a guest. Accessing his new cameras, he watched as the Lieutenant and a Trill Ensign sat, kicking off their shoes and tucking their legs beneath them as they chatted. Raising the volume slightly, the Vice-Chairman listened in.

"–eyes like that? I mean, if someone like him looked in my direction, I'd be half-way to requesting Vulcan citizenship already," the Trill woman said with a gleeful smile. "Oh, come on. You have eyes in your head! The new guy's hot!"

The Lieutenant merely shrugged her shoulders.

"I mean...yeah, he's good-looking, but I got the feeling he's not easily impressed. He barely said two words to me. And he seems...irritable," she muttered, and her friend nudged her arm playfully.

"So he's just your type, then?" The Lieutenant looked up at her sharply, but the Trill just laughed. "You know I'm right. Every guy you've dated since the Academy has been some variation of a smart, handsome asshole. What makes Velek so different?"

Vreenak blinked. They were talking about him? The silence stretched between the women, and eventually the Ensign sighed, but less from frustration than concern.

"This is about Torek, isn't it?"

That was a new name. One that Vreenak instantly disliked, though he couldn't put his finger on the reason.

"Of course it is. When someone uses you like that, you don't forget it in a hurry," the Lieutenant wilted somewhat.

"I know, but this one's older," Vreenak bristled at that, "I bet he's got at least a modicum of tact when it comes to letting people down gently. And anyone would be more honest than Torek," the Trill said patting her friend's shoulder before moving to the replicator. "Now, I think ice cream is in order."

The rest of the evening's conversation was irrelevant, and once the Ensign headed back to her own quarters, Vreenak stretched and made to walk back to his own bedroom. Humans needed more rest than Romulans, so he fully expected that to be the end of her evening.

To his surprise, he glanced at the monitor once more, but instead of finding her heading toward her bed, he saw that she had curled up with a book - the romance novel he'd found on her shelf earlier.

After a long moment of debate, he switched his view to the camera situated behind her so he could note what page she was on.

How strange for her to be reading a romance, especially if what she'd said to her Trill friend was true. She'd been used by a Vulcan, yet she willingly sought romance? Did that not simply emphasize her loneliness to her? Was she addicted to the pain?

Vreenak's brow furrowed, and he pushed down memories of his own failed romantic endeavors. No, if he was in her position, he could never indulge in something like a romance novel. Elements, he didn't want to even in his current position.

Unfortunately, though, he would need to if he wanted a full understanding of her psychological state. He told himself it was all part of building a profile of the woman who'd claimed to be his wife.

Downloading the novel onto his personal terminal, he let his gaze linger on her for a time. She seemed so small and unassuming when she was all bunched up amongst the cushions.

But, he'd learned decades ago never to underestimate an opponent. The moment you did, that was usually when you got a knife in the back. He would not be such a fool. Not with her.

Thus, he opened the first page of the book file and began to read with a scoff, alternating his attention between her and the text of the drab little story with the childish pink hearts on the cover.

~*~

Taglist: @akamitrani @android-boyfriends @attention-bajoranworkers @bigblissandlove1 @darkmattervibes

@emilie786 @groovyqueer @horta-in-charge @live-logs-and-proper @rookietrek

@slutty-slutty-vulcans @starrynightgardens @toebeans-mcgee

[flippyspoon]

The Drunk Dial

Note: SNW Spirk ficlet :D (about 1k words)

Jim Kirk could not quite believe what he had just seen.

From the less than cozy chair behind his desk, he sat stunned.

This couldn’t be real, he thought. 

Unless?

But he tapped his comm. Due diligence and all.

“Commander Kirk to Lieutenant Boyer. Hey Jerry, I received a video message from the Enterprise. Can you verify authenticity for me? I’m sending over the data signature now.”

“Hi, Jim. Sure. Lemme just give it a looksee… Uh, yep. Authenticated. USS Enterprise. From Lieutenant Spock. Oh cool. He’s that half Vulcan science division wizard, right?”

“Yyyyep. Huh. So there’s no…interference on that? Nothing suspicious?”

“You have reason to suspect something, Jim?”

“Um… Well, no. I was just surprised by the content of the message. Thought maybe someone was trying to have some fun with me.”

“Looks good to me. Just an ordinary comm.”

“Cool cool. Okay. Thanks, Jerry.”

Kirk sat back and rubbed a hand over his face. On his computer screen, the message sat paused, having looped to the very beginning after he’d played it twice over already.

Lieutenant Spock was frozen, staring back at him with a crooked little smile on his face, one eyebrow raised. But his eyes were just a little two heavy lidded. His hair just a little tousled and not the immaculate Vulcan coiffure Kirk had gotten used to seeing while visiting the Enterprise.

He was also out of his science blues. Spock was wearing a tight black t-shirt instead, stretched over his broad chest.

In short, Spock looked extraordinarily hot. Even for Spock.

He also looked drunk as hell.

The message was not coming from his quarters. Kirk recognized the tables behind Spock from the Port Galley.

Kirk licked his lips and tapped play for the third time.

“Commander Kirk,” Spock said slowly. “Greetings. Hello. Hi. I am sending you this message due to…a… having lost a wager. With Lieutenant Ortegas. Whose birthday it is.” From offscreen, Jim heard Erica Ortegas hoot and a hand blurred by the edge of the screen. “Today,” Spock continued. “Is her birthday. Which we are celebrating. Which is the reason for… That is…” Spock swallowed and held up a half-empty box of chocolates. “Cause for celebration chocolate. Which is inebriating for Vulcans. Such as myself.”

“Tell him about the bet!” Nurse Chapel’s face appeared onscreen as she leaned down to Spock, giggling, until Erica wrapped an arm around her waist and yanked her away again and she shrieked a laugh.

“The bet. Yes.” Spock nodded as if his head were on a spring. “The bet concerned whether or not I could…what is it called-”

“Deepthroat!” Erica yelled from offscreen.

“Deepthroat a Terran banana,” Spock said, nodding again. “Which I am able to do.”

Kirk chewed on his lip.

“You’re supposed to tell him about the bet you lost, genius. But also yes, good job telling him that. Good info to have.” Chapel had appeared again, breathless and pushing her sweaty hair back. She looked into the camera and rolled her eyes before disappearing.

“Yes. The bet I lost concerned whether I could fit sixty Terran marshmallows in my mouth while reciting the words ‘chubby bunny.’ A most inane and illogical test of stamina.”

Erica returned, this time crouching behind Spock and throwing an arm around him. She looked just as inebriated as he was, though far more obviously gleeful. She was also wearing a neon green feather boa around her neck.

“But it was so cute to watch!” Erica said. She looked into the camera, meeting Jim’s eyes. “I’m sure you would have agreed, Commander Kirk. You think Spock’s cute, right?” She smirked at him and he winced.

He had, in fact, told Erica Ortegas all his thoughts on Spock when they had bumped into each other on shore leave.

He’d told her at length.

“I am still at a loss,” Spock said, his brows turning down comically and his lips forming a pout, “as to the purpose of this communication.” He frowned at the box of chocolates and picked out a truffle topped with a mocha mousse.

“The purpose,” Erica said, grinning lasciviously, “was for you to tell Commander Kirk that you enjoyed playing chess with him.”

“That is true,” Spock mumbled. He was doing the nodding thing again as he held the uneaten chocolate in his hand.

 She stage whispered to Kirk, “He talks about you all the tiiiime.” She cleared her throat and went on, “And that you very much look forward to next week when the Enterprise and Farragut dock at Starbase Seven.”

“That is also true,” Spock said. 

Spock took a bite of the chocolate. He chewed and swallowed and when he looked into the camera at Jim and wrapped his lips around his chocolatey fingers to suck off the slightly melted dregs, Jim groaned.

“It occurs to me,” Spock said, licking his lips, “that this is not an appropriate message to-”

“SSSSHHHH!” Erica squeezed his shoulder. “Jim’s cool! We got hammered on Risa a couple months ago! I know all his secrets!”

“Erica! Karaoke time!” Chapel shouted offscreen. “We’re gonna do ‘Love Shack!’”

Erica leapt up and Spock blinked into the camera. “I am told I must not miss ‘Love Shack.’ So uh… I will see you at Starbase Seven, Commander Kirk. These chocolates are excellent. Spock out.”

Kirk had been smiling so hard his mouth ached. 

He stood up, took off his shirt, and headed to his bed to jerk off.

***

Spock woke up fully clothed atop his bed, his booted feet hanging off the end.

Immediately, he recalled everything.

“Oh,” Spock muttered. “No.”

With a groan, he pushed himself up to his feet, rubbing his temples. He could not deny that Erica’s birthday parties somehow always ended up engaging him more than most social events on the Enterprise.

And somehow, he always ended up doing something terribly embarrassing.

But this was certainly his first drunken dial.

And to Commander Kirk!

His computer kept pinging. 

He trudged to the synthesizer and made himself a cup of tea, very strong and very hot.

In the privacy of his own quarters, he slumped in the chair at his desk, glowering at the computer screen and the blinking notification next to the name: CMDR. JAMES T. KIRK.

It was true, he had so far been friendly with Kirk. But this…

Egregiously unprofessional. Inappropriate.

Spock shut his eyes, mouth collapsing into a crooked grimace.

“Ugh.”

Nothing to do but, as Pike liked to say, “face the music.”

Which would probably be The B-52s if Erica and Christine had anything to say about it.

Spock clicked the message and pressed play.

Kirk looked utterly poised and dashing like he always did.

“Hi there, Mr. Spock.” A sly smile spread across Kirk’s face. “Ah, I just wanted to say I really enjoyed your message.” His gaze glittered, fixed on Spock as if actually seeing him live, and also as if he were physically stripping Spock of his clothes. “And I too am truly looking forward to the Enterprise and the Farragut both docking at Starbase Seven next week. So…” Kirk bit his lip and his voice dropped a few octaves when he said, “I guess I’ll see you then. Kirk out.”

The message ended and Spock just stared.

Somehow, Jim Kirk’s brief and completely professional message sounded to Spock like an impressively erotic performance and Spock was certain that had been the intent.

Alright. He was clearly not in trouble-trouble. He was in a whole different kind of trouble.

Spock stood, stripped off his shirt, and headed back to bed to jerk off.

[thethirdromana]

Trektober day 25: How the Captain Got His Shirt

(prompt: redshirts)

“OK, but do you know why Command Division started wearing red shirts?” Ensign Carmichael asked, loud even over the din of Ten-Forward.

Picard glanced over towards the lively group of ensigns. Ensign Carmichael, the one telling the joke, was a young man, talking a little too fast, clearly trying to make his mark in his first few weeks aboard the Enterprise. Picard knew the type. He had been the type, once upon a time. 

“No, go on.” That was a Trill woman Picard recognised as Ensign Malir, from a longstanding Starfleet family. She had surely heard the joke before, but she was humouring Carmichael.

“So it’s like this,” Carmichael said, getting into his stride. “Captain Picard is in the Neutral Zone, right, and there’s a Romulan warbird approaching. He’s wearing a yellow shirt, but he calls to his Number One to get him a red shirt instead. He puts it on, there’s a shootout, and the Romulans leave with their tail between their legs.”

Picard chuckled quietly into his Aldebaran whiskey. He had heard many variations on the joke, but not with himself as the main character before. 

“This story is of dubious veracity –” began their companion, a Vulcan called T’Hoth, but Malir shushed her.

“OK, so the next day, two Romulan warbirds come up on the scanners, and Picard says, ‘fetch me my red shirt!’ And Riker does, and again the battle goes well.”

“And on the third day?” Malir asked, laughing.

“Well, at some point Data asks, ‘Captain, why is it that you always require your red shirt ahead of a battle?’ And Picard says, ‘it’s so that if I’m injured, it won’t be visible to the crew, and they won’t lose heart when they’re fighting.’ On the third day –”

“The conventions of this form of fiction require that there be three Romulan ships approaching,” T’Hoth said, one eyebrow raised.

Picard quietly got to his feet and made his way across Ten-Forward. 

“No!” Carmichael said, clearly enjoying himself. “A long-range scan reveals not one, not two, not three, not four, but five Romulan ships approaching. And so Captain Picard says –”

From directly behind Carmichael, Picard proclaimed, “Fetch me my brown trousers!”

Malir and the other ensigns burst out laughing. Even T’Hoth had an expression that verged on amusement. Carmichael had the look of someone who might have wanted some brown trousers himself, or failing that, for a localised wormhole to open up in Ten-Forward and eat him.

Picard clapped him on the shoulder. “It’s an excellent joke, well told.” 

Carmichael gaped, and said nothing, while the rest of the group wiped their eyes. Feeling his work was done, Picard strode back to his seat at the bar.

Guinan wandered over to him, a wry smile on her face. “Some would say that was unkind.”

“Nonsense,” Picard said. “He’ll dine out on that for years, and in the meantime, he’s learned a valuable lesson about when an ensign should be heard, and when he should keep his voice down.”

Near the group of ensigns, they heard a single young Bolian ask, “but what is the significance of the brown trousers?”

Picard and Guinan burst out laughing all over again.

~

(on AO3 here if you'd like to add kudos or comments)

[talshiargirlfriend]

a little friendly banter

Psssst hey @deadheaddaisy your pals Kelly and Rostov are here ☺️

“Everything’s green, Mike. Whatever gremlins have been hanging out in the intermix chamber, we seem to have chased them away for now!” Kelly made a superstitious gesture as she handed him a PADD with diagnostic results. 

“Maybe that offering shrine at the chief’s workstation finally did the trick,” Rostov grinned. “Will I see you at the movie later?”

“Of course!” she tossed over her shoulder with a smile brighter than the warp core. “You know I never miss a murder mystery!” 

He smiled fondly at her departing back.

“Now that is the face of a man who is smitten,” came Commander Tucker’s amused voice behind him. 

Oh God, was it that obvious?

“It’s not like that.” Mike turned the PADD over in his hands before passing it on to his CO. 

Tucker raised his eyebrows.

Mike lowered his voice, “It’s … we’re not together or anything, but she’s really great. I mean, she’s so smart and funny, and she can kick my ass at poker—“

“Rostov, everyone can kick your ass at poker,” Trip interjected.

“Haha, shut up, Sir. I like it when she does. Have you ever heard her sing?” He placed his hands over his heart. “Like an an… gel,” he trailed off as he looked to see what had drawn Trip’s attention. 

Ah, of course. Commander T’Pol had just entered Engineering. She was right on time for her usual afternoon update from Commander Tucker. One hundred percent necessary despite the fact that she could view all engineering reports from a console on the bridge.  He pressed his lips together to keep from smirking.

If he’d looked half as goofy grinning at Kelly as Tucker did looking at T’Pol right now he’d absolutely deserved that ribbing. Jesus. 

“Buuuut then I guess you’d know all about being smitten, eh Chief?”

“Oh come on, not you too, Mike,” Tucker groaned. “It’s really not like that, ok?” 

“Whatever you say, Chief…” Rostov accepted Trip’s pained look as dismissal and stepped back to watch the two commanders square up. 

“What can I do for you, T’Pol?”

“I came to view the diagnostic reports, Commander.” 

She accepted the PADDs without so much as glancing at the data on them, and then looked up at Trip with doe eyes. 

“and to inquire whether you will be attending ‘Movie Night’ this evening?” 

Crewman Second Class Michael Rostov had seen a lot of weird shit since leaving Earth, but a Vulcan flirting had to be near the top of the list. 

He grinned. Whatever you say. 

[aquamonstra]

Suddenly feeling very indignant that the Voyager crew had to get flung into the Delta quadrant so they don't get to ever properly rendezvous with the Enterprise because I feel in my heart that THEY DESERVE TO SO MUCH, THESE PRECIOUS SPACE CHICKEN NUGGETS

Like you KNOW Janeway would have jumped on Riker. That 5 min preview Q gave her was NOT ENOUGH 😂

And B'Elanna already has SUCH heart eyes for Data and she and Geordi might butt head for 2 seconds before having that same kind of engineering bonding moment she had with Janeway.

Worf and Tuvok would be best friends. Hands down. Immediate respect. They would sit in stern silence and hardly every speak other than to stoically debate the best martial arts styles and the merits of Klingon vs Vulcan opera, but still. Best friends.

Tom and Harry would end up forming a lil friend gang with Geordi, Data, and Barclay and combine forces to design the most insane holodeck adventures. Shit that makes your your favorite PS5 games feel like Pong.

Chakotay and Picard would totally bond over discussing archaeology and anthropology. You can find them in the lab analyzing pottery or going over tribal musical pieces that Picard is trying to learn on his flute.

The Doctor would just get totally fawned over by Barclay, and he'd probably rub Bev the wrong way at first but then earn her respect hard and fast the more they get to know each other. Also the Doctor absolutely developes a crush on Deanna.

And speaking of Deanna, she would LOVE the hell outta both Kes and Neelix. She'd bond with Kes over the similarities of their abilities and go nuts consulting with Neelix about different crew morale activities she could incorporate aboard the Enterprise.

And on that note, Neelix and Guinan would totally team up to throw the BEST Ten Forward parties 🙌🙌🙌

**i promise this is not Seven of Nine erasure i'm just only in season 2 of Voyager and haven't met her yet pls don't get mad at me i promise i'll come back and update this as soon as i get to know her character**

[ai-art-ocs]

OC- Lyra/T’Lyra

As a human: she’s raised in a mixed community on earth where she is influenced by many earth and alien cultures that have settled in the big city she grew up in. She attended inner city public schools for her entire education which gave her a quick eye for social cues and how to avoid a fight and tread carefully. Despite not going to the most prestigious schools as a child, the education system overall in the world has improved in the 2300s allowing for personalized courses and access to higher learning methods with better ease. It many not be on the same level as the Vulcan learning pods, but Lyra advances through courses and finds her way through math and science much faster than her peers, somewhat of a prodigy. She begins computer science and engineering courses as soon as they are available to her and finds her niche in theoretical transwarp physics as a junior in high school. She begins to research and learn all she can about the subject and explore all she can. Eventually, this curiosity leads to questions about the impact of warp on life and her interests turn back to the blue sciences rather than the reds of engineering. By the time she enters Starfleet to conduct further research (because every one of the best papers she’s read has come either from the VSA or a tenured Starfleet officer) she is ready to do whatever it takes to find the answers to all her burning questions about space travel. How to improve it, how it changes humanity, what it means to be human, what it means to be alien, what it means to be from somewhere at all. She wants to expand the known universe and her mind - to confront the stars and herself among them as she ventures into the great unknown.

As a Vulcan/Human hybrid: she’s raised on Vulcan until it is destroyed when she is six. She remembers the day clearly with her eidetic memory. Her family was together in a park in ShiKahr when the attack started and when the evacuation began, they were able to board a shuttle and get off planet safely. They became some of the only surviving Vulcans. Post-destruction of Vulcan, T’Lyra and her family moved to earth, her father’s home world (her mother being her Vulcan parent). Despite growing up mostly on earth, her family lives nearby the Vulcan embassy and her mother is very devoted to retaining her Vulcan roots, especially in light of the destruction of Vulcan. T’Lyra does her best to emulate her mother in every way, including being as Vulcan as she can be, despite her red blood and how tempting it is to smile or blush or tuck her hair behind her ear and respond to the social cues of the human boys around her as she ages. Her mother has less difficulty conceiving a human child than Amanda did conceiving a Vulcan child, and T’Lyra has a younger brother, V’Luk who was born after the family arrived on earth. Her brother is much more human in his tendencies than she is, though she does all she can to encourage him to act in the Vulcan way. They are both more biologically human than Vulcan, somewhere around 60% Vulcan in large part due to their blood being human rather than the green of a Vulcan, though their hearts are still located where they would be on a Vulcan. It seems that though there are now more Vulcan/human hybrids, the data does not help cross-case. Even the siblings are dissimilar to each other in their biology in some ways that make their health distinctive. As T’Lyra gets older, she goes to school with the other Vulcan children who stay on earth at the embassy. She spends her life looking up to Commander Spock who was part of the command team to save the Vulcan high council and Earth from its destruction and who is notably one of the only other Vulcan/human hybrids. Inspired by his efforts in Starfleet, she makes strides to follow his path and join Starfleet someday.

Process/Results:

I started initially just wanting to do a Starfleet officer, hence Lyra. Then I decided to see how the ai could handle a Vulcan with the ears and all. It did not do well with prompts to copy Spock’s facial pattern or Vulcan ears. It struggled with the idea of Vulcan eyebrows and I gave up. I eventually had to use a prompt with elf ears instead, which is why the shape is off - not quite to my liking but close enough when given context. I realized halfway through that Vulcans have green blood and Lyra had a red blush so I tried some prompts to see if I could get a green tinge to the skin instead and…. AI was super confused and only did like one slightly correct generation of the prompt. AI still struggles with fantastical ideas. It can do normal skin tones, but not odd ones. Maybe it doesn’t have any samples of that? Makes sense if it doesn’t have access to that kind of imaginative art to sample.

[thegeminisage]

STAR TREK UPDATE TIME!!! thursday we watched tng's "emergence" and ds9's "crossover" (honorific)

emergence (tng):

I HATE HOLODECK EPISODES. i wanted season 7 to go out on a high note. nostalgia and time would have made me forget so many of tng's sins if it had gone out on a high note

girl, the enterprise CAME TO LIFE, had a baby, and then died, and nobody had anything to say about that except "ok let the baby fly into space hope it has a good life!"

the enterprise and moya from farscape could have raised their children together communally. like feral cats.

if kirk had been captain when the enterprise came to life he would NOT have let that baby fly into space. he would have gotten one of those little toddler leashes. he would have paid child support. he's not the step dad he's the dad who stepped up

i honestly don't remember what else happened here because the following episode blew my tits clean off

oh yeah wait i think it was racist to make worf shovel the coal. shame on them. data's way stronger than worf he should have been doing it he would have been like yay i love a novel experience :) i can add this to my file on coal shoveling :)

crossover (ds9):

WORLD'S LONGEST YEAH BOY

no, i'm just going to abandon my bullet points. where do i even begin...you know, actually, let's begin at the beginning, which is the tos mirrorverse episode. i have a wider meta on this in me somewhre i bet but it wasn't always this way! i like, initially watched this, went, "huh! that was neat," and thought no more about it until i read a fanfic (don't ask for it i'm not telling, it was more like 2-3 fanfics honestly) and then i was like WAIT HOLD ON A SECOND. see, my fascination with mirrorverse comes primarily from the following hypothesis:

everyone always says that bones in mirrorverse and bones in the prime universe are the same guy and that makes him god's specialest princess, which i don't disagree with! but i think, deep down, EVERYONE is the same. i think mirrorverse (quite accidentally) provides a pretty compelling commentary on both nature vs nurture and the cycle of violence. kirk, who undoubtedly went to a much worse version of tarsus iv in the mirrorverse, becomes a guy slaughtering colonists by the thousands, because in his mind that's what power looks like and being powerful means being safe. spock, who is brought up to believe violence is logical instead of pacifism, follows that doctrine just as strictly as he sticks to his morals in the prime universe, and indulges in his emotions just as rarely, because in either case he is punished just as much, if not more, for going against vulcan and human social norms.

put the same guys in the opposite situation (ie a mirror) and they will turn out as their own twisted reflections every time. mirror kirk is just as driven to succeed, just at a different game. he has just as much of a temper, but without the apologies that come afterward. he's just and dangerous and as handy in a fight as prime kirk, but without the moral compass that has him pulling punches instead of a knife. he has that same desire for power, though it's to protect himself rather than to protect other people. mirror spock is just as sharp and calculating, he's just running different numbers, after different results. he's just as good at sussing out emotional motives because of his forced distance from them, but he has spent a lifetime being rewarded for exploiting the emotions of others instead of trying to understand them. he even shares the same preference for being the first officer instead of in command, though the two spocks have differing reasons for this. you could even argue that he has the same capacity for loyalty, inasmuch as it's safe or possible to be loyal in the mirrorverse; he avoids trying to kill kirk as much as he possibly can, and when he finds out "his" kirk is gone, immediately does everything in his power to see to getting him back where he belongs. the mirror characters aren't opposites; they're reflections, inversions. they started out as the same base thing. they were made ugly and evil by their circumstances.

we didn't get to see much of mirror kirk and none of mirror bones (to my eternal woe), but knowing mirror spock DID ultimately take action towards pacifism and reform is extremely damning evidence for this hypothesis, at least in my mind palace. our own spock is defined by his compassion and selflessness; he gave his life in the warp core because the needs of the many outweighed his own needs. mirror spock is running the calculation in the other direction; he is thinking of his own needs. yet he comes to the SAME CONCLUSION - it is important for people to be safe, because logically nothing else can hold.

i notice that they carefully avoided saying whether or not spock ACTUALLY killed kirk, and i love that, because i loved the open-ended nature of the original mirrorverse episode - i loved that we could imagine anything happening. kirk dying or becoming a better person or becoming a worse person. i'm a little sad to have finally lost that, but i love that we can still just as gleefully imagine spock shoving a pole through kirk's ribs (in the horny way) or them being little rebels with bones and fighting the system together. ooooh and you better BELIEVE i had to pause the episode and cover my face and take a moment to have my hysterics when they implied mirror spock may have killed mirror kirk bc our kirk asking mirror spock to kill his other self was one of the horniest things tos ever did, up there with amok time and that stupid bondage harness.

speaking of horny, let's get into the actual episode. this episode was so abjectly fucking horny it's ASTOUNDING. it's mind-blowing. i think lesbian kira-on-kira was ABSOLUTELY the way to go as far as introductions. and kira-on-kira PROVES MY HYPOTHESIS!!! mirror kira has the same sympathy for her human laborers (the downtrodden), just not extended further than she extends sympathy for herself. she is also, like our kira, into girls. AND she is seduced by the idea of giving power to a weak bajor. kira's love affair with herself was probably the best part of this episode, number one because women and number two because they understood each other SO well except mirror kira was just unstable enough to be scary. and kira being like a little scared of her and them still being gay was really problematic and horny of them. fun. god. like, BATH SCENE?? HELLO??? i hope nana visitor had the time of her fucking life

mirror garak is also basically the same guy. this is just pre-exile garak. he's so conniving and gay. he didn't even do any of that seductive shit to our kira. why? he's not into girls!

i'm so sorry odo and quark didn't get a better lot in this verse. they don't come back either i checked :( odo was kind of boring, unfortunately, except for3 points: firstly, him slapping julian like 3 times was also problematic but horny. secondly, the goop he exploded into. rip king. (and kira moruning him!! otp.) thirdly, this is odo's disdain and lack of understanding for humanity (humanoidanity?) multiplied by 1000x. this is not an odo who was forced to get to know us and saw that some of us needed the protection he had to live without and now had the power to give, this is an odo who was experimented on and probably killed dr mora on his way out of the facility, and is looking to dish some out instead of take it. FUN. our odo makes hands to touch people with. this odo makes hands to slap people with. rip to that guy and i was absolutely shocked that a do-no-harm DOCTOR killed him but honestly there's probably a net good in that for our julian.

quark running the metaphorical underground railroad out here also seems to echo him selling food to bajorans...also, his, outfit? it made him look like a good person. it's a wonder it took them so long to catch him. our quark is selfish because he sees it as a path to a good life. their quark is selfLESS for the same reason, see? also SCREAM that our kira was like yes we're BESTIES on the other side when she often tells him how much she despises him lmao

o'brien!!! god i wish we had seen more of him but i LOVED him and julian being besties here too. he was like youre NOT my friend and then 20 minutes later helping him escape. it's like he was a sleeper agent, he got one whiff or someone who could afford to have a moral compass and instantly he was like actually yeah humans deserve better than this! i love that julian was just gonna take him back and have two obrien besties and fuck starfleet if they didn't like it lol. obrien secretly also the same, and i'm really glad he got to at least escape w sisko to become a pirate or whatever.

HEY. BY THE WAY. PIRATE SISKO. SO FUN AND EDGY. he was really unhinged and kind of like a lunatic. cw for discussion of rape the rest of this paragraph. so i think there was a light implication via his body language and also "you charmed your way out of the mines" that he was NOT enjoying/consenting to the sex he was having with mirror kira, but very much enjoyed the opportunity to menace her counterpart, and other people, like obrien. again, like odo, he is tired of taking it and itching to dish soem out. UNLIKE odo, we see that he has people he loves! he says "i made the best of a bad life for my crew" and even shakes his head at one of his crew members who is about to do something that will get them hurt - he's also happy enough to take obrien, former target, under his wing on the way out, when he sees something worthy there. JUST LIKE OUR SISKO, he IS protective and he DOES value his people! i loved seeing that core of him, even though his outside was deranged in a fun evil way.

ok, to finally wrap this up, bashir giving away his plate of mush at mealtime because he's gonna get to go back to a nice cozy universe soon (or die) and these people won't is soooo. god. he's SO COMPASSIONATE......like i knew that objectively but we haven't really seen it in action much up until now. it fucking kills me. his compassion, inherent Good Universe vibes, has such a profound impact on mirror obrien in such a short time, but ultimately you CAN'T change this universe. you can affect single people in it, the way kirk got mirror spock, but the point of the mirrorverse is to be evil and edgy (and horny), so no matter WHAT the characters in it do, it is a LAW OF THAT UNIVERSE that powers beyond their comprehension will always reset the status quo to STAY evil and edgy (and horny). like at first i was like oh shit kirk really stepped in it nice job breaking it hero but like it simply CAN'T be fixed. if you try, you will fail. determinism in star trek. wild.

also, wait, sorry, julian coming back filthy head to toe and kira coming back in a ballgown when our sisko has been having kittens trying to locate his people.....iconic. mister privileged having to process ore like kira used to do and kira former ore processor wearing a fancy luxurious evening gown. talk about swapping places.

TONIGHT: tng's "preemptive strike" and ds9's "the collaborator." last non-finale episode of tng!!!

[raddocwrites]

SNW drabbles

Little is as little does

Chapel playfully distracted baby nyota as the doctor scanned her and spock. The tiny Vulcan had crossed his arms and slouched on the biobed. “You say we are sick, but I feel fine,” he argued once more.

The captain opened his mouth to explain it, again, when baby spock cut him off. “Your explanations are insufficient. Please do not attempt again until you have collated more data,” he said somewhat smugly.

Pikes mouth snapped shut and he tried to ignore the way the doctor was laughing at him with his eyes.

Chapel held nyotas hand as the Dr drew blood. She didn’t cry, but her lip did quiver dangerously. Chapel also held spocks hand even though he declared he wasn’t a baby and didn’t need her to.

She looked over to Mbenga as they had the same thought that the captain finally voiced, “What about la’an?”

“Maybe just scans,” the doc muttered. Chapel snorted remembering the way his tricorder had flown from his hands earlier.

Una nodded at captain pike as he and the others transported to his quarters…for lunch and to figure out next steps. The captain held spocks hand even though the tiny Vulcan pointed out that it was completely unnecessary as there was no danger of him getting lost during transportation. Tiny uhura gladly held onto the captains other hand as well as Dr mbengas.

Una couldn’t remember the last time she had seen the doctor smile so big as when the little girl eagerly slipped her small hand into his large, but impossibly gentle, hand. He was officially smitten.

Not that una could blame him. She looked down at the tiny package in her own arms. Una still rubbed la’ans back slowly but now tried to sit the little girl up. La’an resisted the movement holding tighter and burying her face further into unas neck.

Una pressed a kiss to the top of la’ans head and rubbed her back soothingly. She spotted chapel approach slowly with tiny sized shorts and tshirt. Una frowned slightly. La’an was always cold. She mouthed at the nurse for socks.

Chapel raised her eyebrows in acknowledgement and spun quickly on her heel. She brought the garments and quietly laid them next to una, who nodded her thanks, and stepped back. She was there in case una needed something. But she knew la’an liked her space.

“La’an, sweet pea,” una said softly. “Its time to change. These clothes are too big.” Una plucked at the uniform engulfing the small child. “Lets put on some that fit you.”

La’an shook her head.

“Please?” una tried.

She could feel the little girl thinking about it. “Just for a second, sweet pea. Then you can come back just like you are now.” Una chose her words carefully. For as long as shed known la’an, her friend had been worried about appearing weak, about being…needy.

La’an hesitated for several breaths. Then she slowly sat up and allowed una to put her down. But she wasn’t happy about it. She blinked fiercely and her breaths were short and hitched. She numbly shucked off the ginormous uniform then held her arms up as una slipped the tshirt on her. She clutched onto unas shoulder as she lifted one leg then the other through the soft shorts.

Una quickly slipped on the little girls socks one at a time even as la’an shivered and a tear slipped out and trailed down her cheek.

Una felt her heart want to break in two. “Hey sweet pea,” she cooed. She stared into la’ans terrified eyes and gently wiped away the tear. La’an leaned into her touch and held her arms up hesitantly, like she knew what she wanted but wasn’t sure how to ask for it. If she could ask for it.

Una scooped the little girl back up and held her tightly. “Youre okay la’an,” she said quietly as she rubbed the girls back. The tiny figure in her arms just shook. Silently. Unas heart crumbled a little further at that, because she knew it was engrained so deeply in la’an that it remained with her even in this state. Especially in this state. Anything besides absolute silence, meant potential death.

They sat like that on the floor, with la’an in unas lap, her face buried in unas neck and una holding her tight rubbing her back. But finally she heard la’ans stomach growl. “La’an, sweet pea, are you ready to join the others?”

La’an didn’t say anything but she stiffened slightly.

Una quickly added, still rubbing the little girls back. “We can join them, but I don’t have to put you down. You can stay just like you are.” She let la’an think about it a moment. “How does that sound?”

Finally, the tiny head nodded into unas neck. Una smiled. “Okay,” she said softly as she carefully stood up. She nodded to chapel who closed her tricorder and tucked it into her uniform. She had scanned la’an looking for anything amiss then used it to passively monitor the girls vitals.

Chapel quickly typed in the commands to the sickbay transporter and an instant later she, una and baby la’an materialized in the captains quarters.

[whovianwatchingstartrek]

A Whovian Watches Star Trek for the First Time: Part 105 - Deep Cover In An Alternate Dimension

Star Trek: Discovery - Season 1 Episode 10 - Despite Yourself

I return from my brief day of rest, for the continuation of Star Trek Discovery.

Picking up from where we left off, with the bridge trying to figure out where we are. They are at the right co-ordinates, but nothing else is where it should be. We run across a Vulcan cruiser, who respond to Discovery's hails by immediately opening fire.

According to another Federation ship, the Cooper, these Vulcans are rebels, and after a bit of good old technobabble, our crew comes to the conclusion that we're in a parallel universe, and the ready room discussion last episode set up.

I'm interested to see exactly how this universe differs from the main, I have a lot of questions, not least of which is why is starfleet fighting against Vulcan Rebels?

Well, after the intro, it's up for our crew to get a lay of the land, as Paul is still very much out of commission with whatever he has going on at the moment. I'm liking the writing going on between Lorca and Dr Culber, and the clash between Lorca's more cold objective outlook and Culber's relationship with Paul.

Discovery sends out Ash to survey the wreckage field to get information about this universe, but her starts having flashbacks behind the wheel. While these ships are klingon, there are also Vulcans and Andorians inside among the dead, and it's not just a stolen ship either, the data chips in the ship are Vulcan components.

Ash returns to Discovery, and tires to convince the Torturer to explain what happened to him, but she activates his sleeper agent programming. He manages to snap out of it however, and puts her back in her cell.

I love how the episode slowly builds the pieces on this new universe, and how I'm left to put the pieces together with the crew, and every new piece of information has me eager to see how it all fits in place, until around halfway through when Michael and Tilly manage to crack into the data from the Klingon-Vulcan ship

Apparently, the Federation doesn't exist here, and in it's place is human centric government called the Terran Empire. The dead Klingons, Vulcans and Andorians we encountered form an inter-species rebellion against this Empire. Additionally, Saru concludes that this Universe's discovery has made it's way into the main universe, and apparently Sylvia is it's captain.

The Cooper tries to hail discovery, so Sylvia has to push through her anxieties to pretend to be a Fascistic captain, and the scene is hilarious. Sylvia is just literally me, she is precious and I love her. Also I'm Scottish, so hearing Lorca jump to a Scottish Accent when told to conceal his voice just filled me with glee!

Lorca decides to prepare to train Discovery and her crew to blend in with this new Universe, so they can survive until they find a way home. Federation badges and uniforms are switched out for Empire ones, and everyone . I'm actually really interested to see where this plotline goes. Deep cover mission like this absolutely effect people, and I'm really excited to see our crew's morality put to the test in a universe that just doesn't have the same moral compass and values are our crew.

I'm also really curious to know more about this Terran Empire universe. The whole Evil-Parallel universe is a really common thing when stories go the multiverse route, and rightfully so, there are a lot of ways you can the concept of an evil parallel universe. Doctor Who, my main Sci-Fi fandom, did it in a 1970 Third Doctor Serial called Inferno, which is a really interesting study of Nature vs Nurture, and my favourite part of Inferno is that the Inferno-Earth characters are deep down the same people as their original N-Space counterparts, just buried deep under and twisted by shitty fascist upbringings. I'm really curious to see where Star Trek's take on the evil-parallel universe falls on a similar nature vs nurture spectrum.

Apparently, Michael's counterpart is dead, and Lorca's counterpart murdered her. Apparently, Lorca's counterpart also led a coup against the Emperor, which really caught my attention. I really want to know more about Lorca's counterpart. Was he leading a coup for his own gain in a similar way to how Sylvia's counterpart gained the captaincy after murdering the previous captain, or was he genuinely trying to overthrow this facist empire? I want to know more! Point is, Lorca's Counterpart is still out there in this universe, as he's a fugitive and wouldn't be on the other-Discovery, which if the principle of Chekov's Gun applies, mean we're probably gonna run into him, and I'm excited for that!

Also, one more thing, while searching through the data core, Lorca finds that Discovery isn't the first ship to make it's way to this universe. A ship called the USS Defiant, apparently will, at some point in the Federation Universe's future, will end up in the Empire Universe's past. Wibbly Wobbly, Timey Wimey. And Lorca believes that this information could be the Discovery's path back home. The Plan is to sneak onto the ISS Shenzhou to retrieve information on the Defiant.

Michael's prep speech to tilly about how the Terran Empire's strength as all a smokescreen to hide their constant fear of both the outside and within was great, and after the prep Mary Wiseman really got to show off her acting chops here, switching from our lovable normal tilly to the projection of the evil captain tilly was fantastic.

Meanwhile in medbay, Ash's status as a sleeper is detected by the Doctor, and in response, he cracks, then snaps the doctor's neck. Michael, Ash and Lorca beam over to the ISS Shenzhou, and their cover mission is played perfectly, and the insights we get into Terran society are fantastic. I loved the fight in the elevator, and Michael having to mask her near breakdown over killing someone who has the face of someone knows. Unfortunately, Michael is unable to get the information on the Defiant because the entire crew is either trying to kill her, like Connor, or is playing up a entirely Sycophantic angle to catch her favour.

I'm really excited to see where this arc goes. I've kinda already covered all the stuff I would normally put in my conclusion, but I'm hoping we get some deconstruction on the Terran Empire's Fascism, we kind of already did with the aforementioned prep speech between Michael and Sylvia, but I want more of that. It's all to common for fictional evil empires to use the aesthetic of Fascism without really doing anything to deconstruct it or show it's failings (Cough, Star Wars, Cough). On the whole I am optomistic for this though, it's definitely falling more in line with the kind of Multiverse story that I like, and fingers crossed it stays that way.

[delfiore]

—DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT (3/3)

pairing: natasha romanoff x android!reader

synopsis: natasha finds a way to to lure you out; and, a confrontation.

warnings: canon violence

word count: 3.8k

a/n: last part wooo!!! i’m so glad this idea is fully written out now after sitting in the dungeon for like 2 years.

PART I, PART II

Natasha had known pain like any other feeling.

The Red Room ensured her a lifetime's worth of it. But rarely, though, has she ever felt the pain of betrayal. Perhaps the Sokovia Accords had given her a taste, but it was nothing compared to when she looked you in the eyes, knowing that you had just tried to kill her.

"I'm sorry for everything," you had said. So easy to just say sorry as if that would solve everything.

Was everything you and her had together all a lie? A part of the scheme created by whoever was sick enough to be behind all of it? You had been the perfect little spy, Natasha should have known.

She let her emotions compromise the Avengers.

"Well?" She turned around when she saw Steve walk into the common lounge. He was still in his suit, meaning he must have just returned from patrol.

"Still no sign of Y/N or VULCAN's location," he replied. "Tony's saying we attempt to catch another android. Only this time, we make sure we get whatever information we need out of it."

"That won't work", Nat shook her head. "Those things are airtight. Their programs won't allow it."

The Captain pursed his lips, watching his teammate and friend stare at the monitor displaying your information. "Nat." He spoke quietly.

She stayed silent. If only I had been more vigilante, she wanted to say.

"There was no way you could have known." Steve sighed, setting his shield down by the table. "She managed to fool everyone."

Natasha chewed at her lower lip, looking to the ceiling to stop the wetness from spilling out of her eyes.

"I let her fool me," she exhaled. "I won't let it slide."

"What's your play?" Steve asked.

"I racked my brain, trying to understand why. Why infiltrate us? Why get close to me?" Natasha turned to him. "And then I got it. They want to create an army, but not just any army; an army of androids. Think Ultron's army, but each of them possesses the same intelligence and mental capacity that humans do. That's what Y/N is, a perfect soldier."

"So how do we stop 'em? Can't be as easy as punching our way in like we did with Ultron," Tony appeared from the doorway with a mug in his hand. "I mean we don't even know where they are."

"There’s something that I haven’t told you, about my past,” Nat pursed her lips before she continued. “In the Red Room, they used a formula to control our minds. The other day, I checked my laptop for a file disguised as the real formula. Sure enough, it had been copied, no doubt by Y/N when I wasn’t looking.”

“So she doesn’t have the real formula?” Steve asked.

“Which means we still have some leverage.” Tony said grimly. “We need to hurry before we lose that too.”

Natasha inhaled warily and nodded. She wasn’t used to being on the losing side, and she would you just what it felt like to be backed in a corner.

It was easy for you to adjust to your new position at VULCAN. With the data from the Red Room retrieved and in Caesar's possession, you became his favorite among his human and android soldiers. Instead of your regular civilian clothes, you were now dressed in dark and tight clothing fit for a spy. A real spy, that's what you were now.

As you approached his office, the guards by the door saluted and granted you entrance without a word. Caesar was looking out the window wall behind his desk, his back facing you.

"16."

"Sir." You lifted your chin. "Batch PF200 has just finished being assembled. They should be ready to be deployed in a few days."

"Good," Caesar said, unmoving. You took that as a sign to be dismissed, but as you turned to leave, he spoke up. "Wait."

You straightened up again. "Do you remember why I created VULCAN?"

"To create a better world, sir." You answered without hesitation. "To arm the world with intelligence void of human errors."

"Correct, and yet," he turned to face you, his eyes hard and dark. "All you've done ever since you were activated is FAIL!"

His sudden outburst made you jump out of your skin. Your breathing quickens as you watch him pull out a USB from his pocket, and toss it on the table. It was the one you handed him.

"It's a fake." He gritted his teeth.

"B-But, I thought—" You sank to your knees with a scream as a volt of electricity coursing through your body in an instant. Looking up, you saw Caesar with a remote in his hand, his knuckle turning white at how hard he was pressing it.

"Where is the real file?!" He shouted over you.

"I-I don't know, I thought that was the real file! I took it off of Natasha Romanoff's personal computer." You blurted out quickly.

"I ordered you to kill the Black Widow, and you fail, but this?! This was the whole reason I brought you online!" You flinched at his tone, as you doubled over on the floor. Caesar had never treated you like this before. It made you fear whatever punishment came next.

"I'm sorry, sir," you uttered meekly, your legs still spasming preventing you from getting back up.

He sighed, his shoulders sagging as he shook his head. "It seems there might still be some . . . shortcomings in your program. That would be my fault, I failed. You're a failure, 16."

You swallowed and pushed yourself up, your legs still wobbling but you stood, though your eyes were stained with tears. "I'm sorry, sir. It won't happen again." You wanted to sound firm, to make Caesar believe that he could trust you again. Without Caesar's trust, what did you have left?

"No, it won't." He said bitterly and leaned into you. "You are a weapon, 16, and you will be of use in that front. You will kill, and you will be good at it. As for your well-roundedness, well . . ."

Caesar walked over to the adjacent wall, and pressed a button next to it. The wall unblurred and revealed a lab below where engineers were working tirelessly on another android model. Its left arm and leg weren't yet connected to the rest of the body, parts of them laying at the side. The torso was bare, still revealing the metal underneath the skin that would be put on. But its face was what caught your attention; it was as if you were staring at another version of yourself, a disembodied jumble that was still blissfully asleep.

"I've been working to improve you, 16," Caesar said, looking down proudly at his creation. "The Winter Soldier program shocked and froze its Soldiers to keep them in line, but they’d never truly have control over them. I have the resources to start anew each time the current one becomes faulty.

This is model FD700-17, your successor. It will be faster, stronger, more intelligent, and most important of all, absolutely void of human errors. Perfection."

Your eyes burned, your extremities ached from the current, your heart broken in half. Why did you ever think that you weren’t expendable? You were a machine, and there was always going to be something else coming along to replace you. Maybe being with Natasha made you feel special, like you could live a life. None of that mattered anymore.

“I have a lead on the real formula, sent by the Black Widow herself.” Caesar came up behind you. “Tick tock, 16, or your next stop will be the scrap metal yard.”

The address Natasha sent lead you to an abandoned warehouse by the piers. It was clever, no one ever has business here, and those that do usually wishes to keep their presence under the radar. You walked in cautiously, hand on the gun you had by your belt. You armed yourself generously; every pocket you had you had put something sharp in it, not that you planned on using it on Nat.

By the time you reached the third floor, you stilled your movements to listen to your surroundings, but all you heard was water dripping from rotten pipes and the sound of the city in the distance.

“If I had known it’d be this easy to smoke you out, I wouldn’t have bothered with all the patrolling we’ve been doing the past few weeks,” you heard a voice spoke behind you.

Turning around, you saw her standing where you came in, dressed in her combat suit, her hair braided and by her shoulders. Behind her, you could see the hilts of her machetes peaking out. She wore a teasing smile on her face like nothing happened.

“You expecting a fight?” You called out.

“Just being cautious.”

“Are we alone?” You asked.

“Yeah.”

“How do I know you’re telling the truth?”

“I guess you’ll just have to trust me.” It was a big feat asking that after all the deception that you’ve done. Humans tended to not be rational after they’ve been lied to, thinking that transparency isn’t warranted on their end. You expected it from Natasha.

“Where’s the disk, Natasha?”

She pulled it out and held it up in between her fingers. “You mean this?”

What you didn’t expect was for her to toss it over to you, just like that. What you needed was in your hands. You looked at the formula in your hands; you’d had to give up your humanity for this.

“Everything you need is on there, or rather, your maker does,” she said.

“Why are you giving this to me?”

“Because I trust that you’ll do the right thing,” she spoke, her eyes soft and empathetic. “I know that if you really wanted to give it to your maker, you could have a long time ago. Something’s holding you back, that’s your humanity, Y/N.”

“That’s not my name.” You shook your head. “I-I don’t have a name.”

“You can still make the right decision,” she took a step closer. “Help us take Caesar down, help me.”

“And then what?” You scoffed humorlessly. “What place do I have in the world? I was made to kill, Natasha. I was made to sabotage and kill you until he decided that I wasn’t good enough. I’m tired of feeling like I’m not good enough.”

“I know you don’t think I know how you feel, but I do.” Natasha looked at you. “Okay? I do. I was made to be a weapon too, one my own handler could just discard if he felt like he didn’t need me anymore. You’d find that a lot of us have similar stories, but we can’t let them win, Y/N. We deserve a chance to live too.”

Her eyes were stained with tears. “You’ve made my life worth living.”

You were crying too, but your tears were synthetic. You had a chance once, but you didn’t go down that path, and now you were here.

Now you were here.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve been stalling.” You spoke quietly.

A loud explosion sounded outside the building, rattling the entire structure. The sound of helicopter blades swarming and landing cut through the night.

“We got incoming, Nat!” You heard Steve’s voice through her intercom.

“So much for being alone,” you utter coldly, and turned on your heels to escape.

There was a loud shriek, a sound of metal giving out. You looked back, and the floor was collapsing in front of you, a dark pit opening up ready to swallow Natasha with it. You didn’t think. You leapt towards the edge, and extended your hand hoping you’d be fast enough to catch her. When she looked up, her face was covered in dirt and grime, in her eyes a rare display of fear.

Whenever you decided to go against your program, your head becomes warm, your body becomes limp, and your judgment slows. It was so debilitating that you sometimes feel as if you had no control over your body at all, your mind screaming at you to obey, obey, obey. And yet you gathered your strength. Yet, you pulled her to safety.

Your superhuman strength and the momentum at which you hoisted her upwards threw her onto the other side of the floor, her body hitting the ground with a thump.

“He won’t let me go,” you knew either way you would die, but it would be by Caesar’s hand.

Without a word, she took your hand and jumped out the window as the rest of the building sunk into a pile of rubble.

The rest of the Avengers quickly assembled around her, but hesitated once they saw you.

“Hey, kid.” Tony floated above the others. “Your room at the Compound’s still vacant. Why don’t you come back with us?”

You laughed, and sat back, still reeling from the impact. You almost missed the searing pain that pierced your side of a bullet fired from distance.

“Y/N!” Natasha gasped.

Your eyes followed the bullet’s line of projection. There it stood, the image of what Caesar wanted you to be, what you could have been but never would be.

FD700-17.

Its eyes were cold and hard, as it holstered the gun it used to shoot you.

“At last, the Avengers.” He reveled in the moment, but scowled when he turned to you. “I should have known you would betray me sooner or later.”

“We’ve done this dance before,” Tony shrugged. “We’ll do it again.”

“Eyes up, guys.” Steve said and charged. 17 was the exact replica of you, and therefore smaller in stature than him, yet it blocked his fist like it was nothing and sent him flying back with a single punch.

Caesar cackled beside it as his army of androids lined up behind him.

“Leave it to me.” You stood up, the bullet materializing out of your stomach. You palmed it and tossed it aside.

17 charged like a bull that saw red. Its punches were heavy and skillful, but familiar. You realized that Caesar had used the same combat program for 17 that he used for you. You matched each other stride for stride, like fighting a mirror.

“You disobeyed Caesar,” it voiced, eyes blazed. “You’ve become weak.”

You managed to block a right hook but didn’t see a knee coming up to thrust into your open wound. You sank to your knees with a cry of pain. You felt a hand grab you by your hair and drag you towards a piece of broken scaffolding that perked up from rubble. It attempted to press your neck into it, its strength overbearingly dominant over your injured body.

“But don’t worry,” 17 seethed. “I’ll take your place.”

You used the last of your strength, fueled by fury, to push back. A headbutt sent 17 stagger back, and you grabbed its head and reversed the position that you were in mere seconds before.

“There’s too many of them!” You heard Clint cry out in the distance.

“Keep going! Don’t quit!” Sam called back as he slammed his wings into one of the androids.

17 was stronger and pushed you back, then proceeded to pummel you hard. When it was done, you noticed half of the shell on your face—the one that gave you your human appearance—had fallen off.

“Traitor!” 17 yelled. “You’re ignorant of the good that Caesar could be doing to the world. You don’t understand his cause!”

“Is that what he’s been telling you?” You managed to utter, spitting out blood. “‘Cause he told me that I was his favorite. That’s what he does. Why do you think I’m number 16, you’re 17? Once he’s bored of you, he’ll toss you aside like you’re nothing.”

For the first time, you saw the corner of 17’s lips perk up. “So naive. This is why you’re no good. I would not let these petty emotions get the way of my service. I will die knowing I’ve serve my purpose.”

It’s got the upper hand, not having an open wound in a spot where it would hurt with every turn of the body. You were staggering when 17 charged towards you, hugging your stomach to slam you down on the ground with a thud. It clamped you down by straddling your midsection.

“So long, 16.” 17 said, pointing a gun at your forehead. You closed your eyes and waited for judgment.

“No!” A scream sounded from afar, then the sound of metal hitting 17 above you. It was Natasha. You opened your eyes, and redirected the gun away from you, just as it went off. In a split second, you had disarmed 17, and had it under your boots.

With a swift precision, you fired into its forehead, the left side of the chest where the synthetic heart would be.

“Too slow, junior.” You muttered, looking down at the corpse of your successor.

“16!” You heard a yell. Turning around you saw Caesar bleeding from his temple, keeping Natasha in a headlock, a gun pointed to her head.

“Let her go!” Tony held out a hand that would fire a rocket at him.

Caesar snickered. “You’ll never understand the magnitude of what I could have achieve with VULCAN, you never will.” He turned to you. “You’re too human for that.”

You sucked in a breath. “I refuse to be your machine.”

“Oh. Is that so?” He squeezed the barrel of the gun into Natasha’s temple, earning a squirm from her as she tried to free herself. “All because of her? She’s barely human. All the things she’s done, all the blood she’s spilled. I’d be almost tempted to take her back, pull her apart and put her back together to become a worthy soldier of mine.”

“It’s over, Caesar. You have nowhere else to run.” You staggered closer. “Let her go if you don’t want to be locked up in the Raft for the rest of your life”.

He took a step back, almost reaching the edge to plummet into the Hudson River. Steve blocked his right next to Clint, while Tony raised his arms feom the left flank. He was completely cornered.

“See, this is why you think you can be human, but you never will be.” Caesar growled, a wild grin on her face, blood caked on his white hair. “I’m your maker, I’ll always be one step ahead of you.”

He didn’t let you respond before aiming the gun at his own head. When he fell to the ground and his head hit the asphalt, he was dead.

You let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, and suddenly the pain of all the injuries you carried. You didn’t even have half of your face plate anymore, lost somewhere under scraps of the fight.

“Nat . . .” You shuddered, and walked over to her. You hesitated and stopped a few paces before her, but she threw herself at you, locking you in a tight embrace.

She let out a tearful laugh when she pulled back, examining your injuries.

You felt your breath getting more shallow as the second passed. Your oxygen compartments have been punctured, and you saw the warning in your vision: “Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

You thought you might have lost your balance and collapsed, but Natasha caught you in time. You rested your head on her lap, your right eye had completely malfunctioned, and you could only see that Nat were crying from the peripheral of your left.

“Life functions critical, be advised to return to base for repair.”

“I’m sorry,” you said, but you did know if your voice was strong enough for her to hear.

“Shh, stop talking,” she refused to meet your eyes, scanning your battered body, and grasping your hand, “reserve your strength.”

“I wish we could have met under different circumstances,” you smiled, but you barely see anymore. “I wish I could have been . . . someone you deserved.”

“You were everything I wanted and more,” Natasha spoke, then rummaged through her pocket. “See this? See this, Y/N? That’s for you.”

She held the ring in front of you, but your eyes were glazed, and staring past her towards the night sky.

“Y/N?” She whispered, like a prayer, like it would somehow pull you back to her. “Tony! Please.”

The man came by your side, but somehow he knew that it was too late.

When you were activated, you didn’t have a mission. The first emotion you thought you could register was surprise. Why don’t I have a purpose?

You were laying in a bed in a room, one that you thought you had been in before. Its design was modern, sleek, yet elegant with great feng shui. Where were you? You sat up carefully, feeling refreshed and relaxed, as if you had just woken up from a well-deserved sleep. Whatever happened before you slept, you had no recollection of.

The door clicked open, a woman with red hair and an older man with dark hair entered. She had a look of timidness when she came closer, and judging by the lack of confidence in her stance, you assumed she meant you no harm.

“Hey, kid. Glad to have you back.” The man said with a smile. You scanned your database, no memory of him whatsoever.

“You know me?” He nodded. You didn’t even know who you were.

You looked at your hands, your fingers. They curled and uncurled with exceptional speed and precision.

“Nanotechnology. Impressive” You concluded. “Are you my maker?”

The man laughed, and shook his head. “No. Just someone with a knack for electronics, and tried to fix you up.”

You turned to the woman who has been silent this entire exchange. There was a name. “You’re . . . Natasha.”

This came as a surprise to her. She gasped as her eyes began to fill with tears. “Yeah, that’s me,” she said. “How did you know that?”

You shrugged. “It’s the only thing in my database. Why is that?”

There was a lightness that washed over you the moment you said her name, like a bout of heavy rain washing away all the weight of the world, purging you then making room for a new beginning, a fresh start.

Memory was a funny thing like that. Her name must have been the only thing salvaged from your last iteration.

Natasha.

You had no mission, yet you were here. No purpose, yet you were here. Figured, you would make your own purpose in the world, and you knew just where to start.

[gayfour]

I wrote this little spirk thing... It's rather short, it's about hands, and it takes place at some time before they are actually in a relationship, and it's from Jim's perspective, and unless you're a Vulcan, i guess, it's sfw.

Spock offered Jim the data card. He was explaining.... What was it? Jim wasn't listening properly, his eyes wandered down to look at the card, taking care not to miss anything on their way. They traced along the veins on the hand, following them down to the fingers. He noticed Spock's nails, cut short, round, and, quite possibly, painted with clear polish. He could've sworn he'd seen a bottle of black polish on a counter last time he'd been in Spock's quarters, but he'd never seen it on. He reached out to take the card and, in a manner that could've plausibly been an accident, brushed his fingertips against Spock's. It did feel like his nails were painted. He felt Spock's eyes on him and looked up. Their eyes met, for only a second.

On the other side of the captain's chair, a woman cleared her throat and offered Jim a data pad. Jim turned, and took his hand away, blushing slightly. After a short conversation, he looked over at Spock, who was back at his station now, still holding the card. He was staring at his hand, transfixed, with almost a smile on his face.

Thanks for reading :)

Also Jim just casually visits Spock's quarters and notices the little things in them, and remembers those visits when he's "accidentally" touching Spock's hand?? Alright then. Not suspicious at all. The actions of a completely heterosexual man.

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, Day 5: Focus

I'm caught up on the Spirktober prompts! Yay!

I hope you enjoy this fic about... insomnia.

Also posted on AO3 here.

☆ ☆ ☆

Spock did not believe in coincidences, or curses, or bad luck. He believed in probabilities and physics. But if he did believe in forces outside of random workings of the universe, he would have thought that something was out to get him today.

He had woken up at his standard time, stretched, abluted, dressed, and eaten on his normal schedule. He nodded to the officers that he normally saw in the mess, nodded to ensigns he passed in the hallways, and entered Laboratory C five minutes before the start of his shift, as was his custom. He had an ongoing experiment, courtesy of Lieutenant Sulu’s participation from Botany, regarding growth rates of plants based on different freeze-dried and revivified fertilizers. He was unwilling to hypothesize without additional data, but should his results be statistically significant, he thought that they might be important for the transportation of fragile crops on long space flights. He and Sulu had even started to talk about a paper.

A human and traitorous part of Spock’s mind thought that the ship was out to get him when he entered Laboratory C to find that the temperature controls had malfunctioned, frozen, and then defrosted his plants overnight, killing them all. He gingerly lifted a limp leaf and sighed quietly through his nose, sent one quick comm to Sulu asking for his assistance and one to Scott asking what had happened, and set about salvaging what data he could from the remains.

The abrupt and premature death of his plants was one thing. The next was a replicator malfunction spraying his face and tunic with plomeek soup at lunch, necessitating a return to his room to sonic shower and change, which made him late for his bridge shift. The science officer who had sat at his seat before he had was shorter than he was, and had adjusted the chair to suit her height, which was a logical decision except for that because he was late he did not adjust the chair to his height upon his arrival and smacked his knee into the console, drawing further attention to himself and pulling a high-pitched squeak of laughter from Chekov. He turned his back on the captain’s empathetic smile and hunched over his station as much as a Vulcan could hunch for the rest of his shift, counting the milliseconds until he could return to his quarters and meditate. Although they approached no rips in the fabric of spacetime or black holes that he saw, he could not help but notice that the time seemed to pass interminably slowly. 

It was, if Spock was being honest with himself, a bad day. 

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The bosun call announcing shift change rang through the bridge, and Spock stood immediately. He inclined his head to the rest of the bridge and strode to the turbolift, directing it to take him to his quarters. 

Before the door could slide shut, though, Captain Kirk slid in with him. He grasped one of the other handles and smiled at Spock. 

“Captain,” Spock said.

“Sulu told me about your plants,” he said. “That’s a tough break.” 

“It was an unfortunate accident of engineering. Mr. Scott has assured me it will not occur again,” Spock said. 

“Isn’t that what I said, Mr. Spock?” 

They exited the turbolift and turned left down the corridor. Spock’s door came first, and he halted in front of it. Captain Kirk halted with him. 

“Is there anything I can do for you, captain?” 

“Are you busy this evening, Mr. Spock? We missed our last chess match after that mess on Aldux II. I was hoping for a rain check.” The captain smiled up at him. 

Spock had not made a habit of denying very much of anything to his captain, but he could sense that he was one ‘unfortunate accident’ away from losing control and causing structural damage to the furniture and potentially the ship itself. 

“My apologies, captain. I require meditation.” 

“Very well, Mr. Spock. Another day.” The captain smiled at him again and turned, walking down the hallway to his own quarters. With a small sigh of relief through his nose, Spock let himself into his quarters, locked the turbodoor behind him, turned the lights down and the heat up, and settled himself on his mat for as many hours of undisturbed meditation time as he could steal from the ship that never slept.

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Spock knelt on his mat in front of his firepot, breathing in the familiar scent of Vulcan incense. He had sorted through his feelings of the day (frustration, more frustration, and then compounded frustration) and dismissed them, slowly letting the tension from the day melt out of his muscles until he had returned to homeostasis. 

Despite these successes, he was unable to focus enough to sink any further into his mind, to achieve the deepest levels of meditation necessary for renewal of the mind. He rejected the threat of further frustration and opened his eyes. 

He was used to sharing a bathroom with the captain. It had been over two years now, and he had found the captain to be as considerate in bathroom usage and space sharing as he was in all other aspects of his life. He had grown accustomed to the noises that Kirk made as he rattled around in the bathroom. His pre-bed routine rarely varied: he urinated, washed his hands and face, brushed and flossed, and returned to his room. He preferred to shower after sleeping, before their shift; he liked using water showers instead of sonics when they had the resources for it; and he shaved every third day. Spock had long since adopted the background noise of Kirk in the bathroom into his understanding of the Enterprise soundscape. It was as familiar to him as the rumble of the engine through the walls. 

It was the discrepancy between this night’s noises and all the other nights that prevented him from focusing. An unfamiliar sound came from the bathroom, leaking through the wall. He stood and approached the door, listening harder. If Kirk had brought a companion to his room, and whomever it was had decided to use the bathroom, that was Kirk’s prerogative. There was no logic to discomfort regarding Kirk’s potential sexual exploits. Then again, perhaps there was an intruder in their bathroom. That situation seemed less probable than the first, given that they were in deep space, but trouble followed Kirk like a shadow. 

As he listened, mumbled sounds and tones resolved into words and a melody he recognized, one that wrapped a hand around his heart and squeezed: Kirk was singing an ancient song from Earth, one that his own mother had sung to his father. 

“Like a river flows, surely to the sea, darling, so it goes…” 

When he was a child, his mother had sung, “Some things, you know, are meant to be,” and his father had taken her in his arms and said, “Kaiidth, my wife,” and they had swayed together in the kitchen in their house on Vulcan and he, Spock, had turned his face away, embarrassed at the naked emotion on his mother’s face and the intensity in his father’s eyes. 

Now, here, on their ship, in their bathroom, Kirk sang, “Some things are meant to be,” and trailed off. Had he stopped singing, or had he departed? Whatever the cause, the music stopped, and Spock found himself bereft without it. He had never heard Kirk sing before, and now that his voice was gone the room was too quiet; even the rumbling of the Enterprise had faded before the sweet tenor. 

Spock retrieved his lute from its place on his shelf and settled back onto his mat. He returned to his memory and listened to his mother’s sweet voice, singing as she swayed by herself in the kitchen. He forced himself to watch as his father entered, pulled in by the music of his wife, and then he laid his hands upon the strings of his lute to pluck the simple melody by ear. 

Maybe, he thought, he could play this and surprise the humans the next time Uhura dragged him to the rec room after their shift ended. Maybe the captain would enjoy it. Maybe he would even feel moved to sing again. Maybe Kirk would say that some things were meant to be, and Spock would tell him, “Kaiidth,” in return. 

The focus required for meditation had escaped him, but it had returned to his hands, and when he set the lute aside some hours later, satisfied with his arrangement, something knotty within him had loosened. He lifted his padd to check the time and saw that he had received a scientific journal article from the captain just moments before, titled “Regeneration of Flash-Frozen Plants: Possibilities for Post-Climate Upheaval Agriculture.” So the captain was awake as well. Before he could convince himself of the illogic of the decision, he instant-messaged the captain. 

STS > Good evening, captain.

JTK > Good morning, more like

JTK > What’s up?

STS > Thank you for the article. Are you unable to sleep? 

JTK > Too many reports, too little time. You too? 

STS > Yes. 

STS > Would this be a convenient time for your “rain check”?

Thirty seconds passed, and the captain had not responded. Perhaps he had fallen asleep, or was no longer interested in playing chess. Perhaps he really was doing work related to the ship, but somehow Spock was less convinced of that option. 

Forty-seven seconds after Spock’s last message, the door between his room and the bathroom slid open. Jim stood in his pajamas, chessboard in his arms. Spock stood and beheld him. His hair was a golden bramble around his head, like he’d run his hands through it repeatedly. The circles beneath his eyes, which faded and returned according to Kirk’s stress levels, were a shade darker than they had been the day before. His pajamas were soft and gray, and a triangle of light brown chest hair appeared above the top button. Spock was struck with the urge to tuck his commanding officer into his bed and demand that he sleep until he was sated. 

“Captain,” Spock said. 

“Rematch, Mr. Spock?” Kirk said, and even though it was the middle of the night, his crooked smile made Spock feel like the sun had started to rise.