#which is obviously what i have wanted ever since the announcement but me and spock have a complicated relationship atm lol | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

jowritesthingss · 4 years

Text

Un-Convention-al

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Pairing(s): Logince (Logic | Logan + Creativity | Roman)

Rating: Teen (for swearing and Remus being Remus)

Content Warning(s): some swearing, a couple of typical Remus-like comments (nothing too bad here tho), food

Length: 3,679 words

Brief Summary: Soulmate September, day one! While at a convention, Roman ponders his rather unconventional soulmark. And maybe, just maybe...he might find the person whose name is encoded onto his arm.

TS Masterlist + AO3 Links

“Heyy, Spock!”

Roman rolled his eyes as his brother raced over to a black-haired, pointy-eared cosplayer. This had to be the stupidest thing he had ever done, and this wasn’t the first time Remus had dragged him into weird shit, so that was really saying something.

Watching as Remus spoke excitedly with the dude, Roman couldn’t help but wonder why he had allowed his brother to drag him to one of his nerd convention thingies. The only acceptable thing about this was that this Captain James T. Kirk character was obviously exactly like him, so even if he was acting as some geeky TV show character, at least it was a valorous protagonist, he supposed.

Roman tapped his foot impatiently, looking around the hotel lobby at all of the booths advertising anime and mango and cartoons and whatnot. Yeah, yeah, he was supposed to be supportive of his brother and whatnot after everything, but couldn’t he have held off the supporting thing until tomorrow, at least? Roman could’ve—should’ve—been across town, meeting that famous soulmate linguist guy that was in town, but nooo.

Remus snagged the cosplayer by the wrist and dragged him over, grinning madly underneath his facial prosthetics. Which, of course Remus had to choose one of the weird characters to cosplay—what was his name? Wolf? Wharf? “You two match! We gotta get a picture!”

“Very well.” Sighing and rolling his eyes, Roman acquiesced, moving over to the poor kid. He slung one terra-cotta arm around the kid’s shoulder, striking up a pose. Best to let Remus have and do what he wanted without fighting too too much; then maybe he’d get tired sooner and they could leave sooner.

Remus backed up, bringing out his phone to take the picture. “All right, say tribble!” Remus called to them.”

“Say what?” Roman puzzled, while the cosplayer said, “That is highly nonsensical and—”

The flash of the camera interrupted them both.

“Fuck yeah,” Remus enthused. He looked appraisingly between Roman and the other cosplayer, and nope, Roman did not like that look one bit. Remus always got that look when he was up to no good. “Say, Spocksie,” he drawled, “if you’re not meeting up with anyone, wanna hang with us today?”

“I could’t possibly intrude in such a manner,” Spock tried to politely decline, weakly attempting to disentangle himself from Roman.

Wait but no, that was actually a good idea for once. If this guy stuck around with them, Roman wouldn’t have to deal with Remus on his own. He could share in the shame.

“Oh, but I insist!” Roman said quickly, tightening his hold ever so slightly. He winked, hoping his stunning self could win over the nerd. “As your captain, I command you,” he joked. Wait, uh. Kirk was Spock’s captain, right? Gosh, there were too many Star Trek series to keep track of. How did Remus do it?

“I...very well, if you insist,” the cosplayer said carefully. “If you truly do not mind.”

“Of course we don’t mind!” Roman let go of the guy to splay a hand across his yellow-clad chest. “I’m sure you’ll love the chance to bask in my glorious presence.”

Spock turned to look at Remus, who was practically vibrating with energy. “Tell, me, is he in character or is he always like this?” He raised an eyebrow. “I do not recall Captain Kirk being so...self-absorbed.”

Roman squawked as beside him Remus howled with laughter, and maybe this wasn’t such a good idea after all.

---

To retaliate for the whole “self-absorbed” comment, Roman sentenced the Spock cosplayer to sitting in a panel for an hour with Remus, while Roman aimlessly played on his phone outside the auditorium, thankful that they only had two tickets and that the rest of the tickets had sold out before they got there.

Judging from the smile on the kid’s face as he and Remus walked out of the door, debating amongst each other, he realized that sitting in a stuffy, crowded fandom panel was probably paradise for a nerd, not a punishment. Ah, well. At least he’d had time to try looking up some new online translators, even if he’d had no luck actually translating what he’d been trying to translate for five years now.

As he stood to meet the two, Roman’s right hand slipped over to his left wrist, where it slipped under the sleeve of his sleeved yellow command shirt and unconsciously began rubbing at the characters tattooed across his skin.

Soulmates were something that everyone had, and without fail, the name of your soulmate appeared on your wrist at thirteen, so there was nothing to be confused about there. And there were so many different languages and writing systems out there that having a name written in a different language or in different characters wasn’t out-of-the-ordinary, either.

What was out-of-the-ordinary, however, was that nobody could decipher the characters written across Roman’s arm.

Five years since he turned thirteen, five years since those weird-looking letters appeared on his wrist—five years of family and friends and schoolmates and teachers and even linguists gaping at them, five years of not being able to figure out what they said, what name and secret they held.

And who knows? Maybe if Roman had gone to meet that linguist instead, today could’ve been the day he finally figured it out.

But no, that wasn’t Remus’ fault. Remus had planned on this con for over a year now. He couldn’t take his frustration out on Remus.

“Did you have fun, nerds?” he asked as he strode up to them.

“I got to ask about pon farr.” Remus grinned leeringly, and Roman wasn’t exactly sure what he was talking about, but he was fairly certain that he didn’t want to know. “And Spocky-wocky here totally nerded out about Klingon.”

“Oh. Uh. Excellent,” Roman said jerkily. Did he want to know what that was, either?

His grumbling stomach made the decision that no, he most decidedly did not. At least, not for the moment.

“Why don’t we find something to eat?” Roman asked the two. “I don’t know about you two, but I myself am famished.”

Remus immediately turned and flounced away from the two of them. “Sounds dee-lightful to me, broski. I saw this stand selling astronaut food!”

Roman and the cosplayer—Roman really would have to ask his name at some point, he couldn’t just keep calling them “Spock”—hurried after Remus, and soon enough, the three were eating (more like gagging on) freeze-dried ice cream, animatedly discussing Kirk and some gal Uhura who apparently had been part of the first interracial kiss on television (“Could be gayer,” Roman said. “Could be gayer,” Remus agreed, staring mournfully at the empty packet in his hand. He had been the only one to actually enjoy the space food.)

The conversation had moved to Kirk and Spock, Remus adamantly insisting that the two had been more than friends and coworkers. He and the Spock cosplayer had a rather lively debate over it—none of which Roman understood in the slightest, so he let himself get distracted. He couldn’t help but wonder what the cosplayer would look like beneath the cosplay. The guy’s bright eyes were mighty pretty while he argued with Remus.

Mid-sentence, Remus’ eyes drifted over to Roman, and he looked away, hoping his staring hadn’t been caught. He wasn’t one to look at people that weren’t his soulmate—all the same, when you didn’t know what your soulmate’s name was, it was quite hard not to. If Remus got any ideas, though, Roman was doomed.

Sure enough, That Look appeared in Remus’ mischievous brown eyes, and he abruptly interrupted the debate to announce that he was going to go buy some more food, racing off before either Roman or the Spock cosplayer could respond.

Roman and the cosplayer instinctively turned to exchange a glance with each other, then Roman quickly looked away, flushing. Now he’d realized that the dude was kinda attractive for a nerd, he couldn’t stop thinking about it.

Great.

“So,” Roman said awkwardly in an attempt to break the awkward silence between the two. He fought the urge to run a hand through his hair, reminding him that Remus’ soulmate would murder him if he messed up the borrowed blond wig.

“So,” the Spock agreed. He paused before continuing, glancing between Roman and Remus. “The two of you are...friends? Boyfriends?”

“Ew. Oh, god, no.” Roman gagged. “Ew ew ew.” He looked across the floor at his brother, standing in line to buy some odd foreign candy or something. “He’s my brother.”

Spock nodded sagely, staring as Remus paid for a handful of...something. “Your brother?”

Roman watched Remus shove the entire handful of candy in his mouth, gagging. “...He’s adopted.”

Roman caught Remus’ eye from across the room, and Remus grinned at him, his deep brown cheeks puffed out like a chipmunk as chunks of something slipped out of his mouth.

“Very adopted,” Roman emphasized.

The cosplayer let out a light chuckle, and oh, that was a nice sound. “You’re clearly out of your depth here. You are a good brother for indulging him in this.”

“I...suppose,” Roman said slowly, tamping down on the sudden rush of guilt over having wanted so badly to leave the convention. “So, do you have any siblings?”

The Spock nodded. “I have a younger brother of my own. Unfortunately, he lives across the country with our mother, so he could not come today.”

“Oh.” Roman blinked. Oh, shit. Had he just brought up a sore subject? Shit. “I’m sorry.”

“It is quite all right,” the cosplayer said mildly. “When we graduate, we have plans to attend the same university, and we see each other enough on holidays.”

“That’s good! That’s good,” Roman said. Oh, by Zeus’ thunderbolt, why were his attempts at maintaining conversation so miserable today? Usually he was so good at this.

Across the floor, Remus seemed quite content eating on his own, not coming back to the two of them standing so awkwardly together. He couldn’t rely on Remus to figure out some dorky topic to talk about.

Finally, grasping at straws, Roman lowered himself to asking about nerdstuffs. “So what was that thing Remus you were talking about during the panel? Cling wrap?”

The cosplayer looked mildly affronted, and dammit, if Roman fucked up again—

“Are you referring to Klingon?” he asked, cocking his head slightly to the side.

“Yeah! That!” Roman rushed out. “What’s that?”

The Spock gazed at him in wonderment. “You truly know nothing about Star Trek, do you.”

Roman shrugged helplessly.

“Klingon is a species of alien, alongside a language,” the cosplayer said, moving his hand up to his face and jerking it away at the last second. “Apologies, I forgot that I was wearing contacts for this cosplay.” He cleared his throat. “Your brother is cosplaying as one of the few Klingon characters, Worf. The Klingons are portrayed largely as bloodthirsty antagonists throughout the series.”

“Ah.” So that was why Remus had chosen to be one of them.

“Personally, I myself am more fascinated in their language than I am anything else,” the Spock explained. “They actually hired a linguist to create an entire language and alphabet for the series. Klingon is one of the most widely-spoken fictitious languages.”

Wait. Roman frowned, confused. “People speak fictitious languages?”

“Well, yes, of course,” the cosplayer said evenly. “All language is made-up, and besides, it is logical that dedicated fans would pick up some throughout the television shows. I myself speak a bit.”

Roman snorted. “What do ya know.” Maybe that’s something he would have to add on his list of language to look up—he had almost exhausted dead languages and alphabets, might as well see if his stupid soulmark matched a fake language. It wasn’t like it could hurt anything; he wasn’t going to find them regardless.

“Aw, you’re not making out?” Remus was back, standing in front of them once more.

“I—no, of course not!” Roman blustered.

“Why ever would you think—” the cosplayer stammered at the same time.

Remus grinned widely at them, flashing a pearly white, seemingly threatening smile.

“Wow! Would you look at the time!” Roman exclaimed loudly, not looking at all at the time. “Why don’t we go and look at some of the booths and tables, Commander Spock!” He grabbed the other cosplayer’s hand and rushed the two of them away as a snickering Remus followed from a distance.

As the trio navigated the crowds of people and tables of merch, Roman ignored the fluttery feeling in his stomach and the childish glee over how the cosplayer had yet to pull his hand out of Roman’s.

---

Before Roman knew it, the end of the day had reached them, and they were ushered out alongside other convention-goers. The rest of the day had passed much more quickly than he had expected, with someone else to share his grief over Remus being Remus, and good hour or two he had completely forgotten why he’d been sulking about going in the first place.

Roman, Remus, and the cosplayer that Roman still hadn’t gotten the name of lingered on the sidewalk outside of the Marriott. There was no real reason for them to stay, but despite the Spock cosplayer’s nerdiness, Roman had discovered a shared interest in Broadway and analyzing Disney, and he almost wanted to ask for the guy’s number, awkward and embarrassing as it was.

But Remus thankfully beat him to the punch. “Say, Jabberspocky, can I get your number? My brother over there is too boring, so he never likes to talk about nerd things. I could use more cute geeks in my life!”

The Spock nodded. “That would be amenable,” he agreed. “It has been most invigorating to discuss the intricacies of the Star Trek universe with you.” The cosplayer swung around to look at Roman, looking almost...nervous? “Would you like to exchange numbers as well? You are a worthy debate opponent when it comes to Disney media.”

“Oh.” That was a compliment, right? Well, Roman was taking it as a compliment. He preened. “Of course! It would be an honor! ...For you, of course.” He grinned jokingly.

The cosplayer rolled his eyes good-naturedly, fishing his phone out of his back pocket, unlocking it, and handing it to Roman. “If you wouldn’t mind filling out your contact information, please.”

“Most certainly!” Roman pulled out his own phone and tossed it at the Spock cosplayer, who just barely caught it with his fingertips. Aw, cute, the nerd was clumsy. He focused in on the phone in his hands, typing in his name and his phone number. “There we go.”

When the cosplayer took his phone back, he glimpsed briefly at their contacts in his phone, then glanced away.

He froze.

Baffled, Roman watched as the cosplayer’s wide eyes retrained themselves down on the cell phone screen.

“Is...is everything all right?” Roman asked, feeling a spark of worry. Did they somehow know each other from elsewhere? Had he or Remus done or said something in the past?

“Oh, my,” the cosplayer said in a slightly-strangled voice. “We...I never asked what your names are, did I?”

“No, I don’t think so.” Roman mock-bowed. “Roman Sanders, at your service.” He gestured over at his brother, grinning. “And that oaf is Remus.”

“Oh, my,” the cosplayer repeated, breathless. He looked almost anxiously up at Roman. “My name is Logan Lehrer.”

Roman smiled reassuringly. “A most lovely name!”

“Is it....” The Spock cosplayer—no, Logan—hesitated. “Is it, by any chance, a familiar name?”

Furrowing his brow slightly, Roman pondered it. “...I don’t believe so,” he said at long last. “Why? Do we know each other from elementary school, or middle school, perhaps?”

“No, I just—” Logan sucked in a breath. He fiddled with the hem of his blue science shirt. “May I—” he said haltingly. “May I see your wrist?”

“My wrist?” Roman tilted his head, bewildered. He held out his right wrist. “Why?”

“No, no, I mean your—here.” Logan reached out a shaky hand, gently grasping at Roman’s left wrist. And—oh.

Oh.

Roman held his breath as Logan slowly tugged back his sleeve. There was no way—was there? Or...maybe?

Logan stared at the white symbols etched across Roman’s tannish brown skin. The five symbols, Roman now realized. Five symbols, five letters...just like Logan’s name, maybe?

Then Logan began to laugh.

Roman blinked. He had only known the guy for, like, six hours, max, but the quiet, reserved nerd he had seen so far did not seem like the type to burst into mad fits of laughter.

“Are—are you all right?” Roman asked, totally lost. What was happening here?”

“Oh my—” Logan wheezed, and Roman now was genuinely concerned. Should he call an ambulance? Should he go back inside and find the medics they had at the event?

“Whatever is going on that’s so funny?” Roman questioned.

Trying and failing to speak through the chuckles running through his body, Logan rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and practically shoved his wrist in Roman’s face, still trembling from laughter and nearly whacking him in the face.

“Oi—” Roman prepared to snap, mildly offended, but the name written across Logan’s wrist caught the words in his throat.

Roman.

Sweet Sif, Roman was Logan’s soulmate. That meant—

That meant Logan was Roman’s soulmate. That mean that, whatever language it was written in, Logan’s name was written on his arm. Logan’s. Logan.

“It’s,” Logan wiped a tear of mirth from the corner of his eye, straightening up and slowly composing himself again. “Th-that is my name on your wrist, Roman.”

“It is?” he heard himself say dumbly, as if from a distance away, still not sure that this was really happening.

“It is,” Logan confirmed. He carefully lifted Roman’s wrist to his face and traced the characters with a thin fingertip.

Roman bit back a whimper. Oh, god, he never wanted Logan to stop touching him. Hell if that sounded inappropriate.

“This is my name,” Logan said, struggling to maintain a straight face, “in Klingon.”

Roman was silent for a good minute, processing this information, until finally he realized, “Wait, Klingon? Like, that made-up alien nerd language?”

Logan’s cool facade cracked, and he grinned down at Roman’s wrist, cheeks a rosy red. “Indeed, it is ‘that made-up alien nerd language’ Klingon.”

“Why the hell...?” Roman wondered, bemused.

“I am afraid that I have no idea,” Logan informed him, still scrutinizing Roman’s wrist. “There have been records of soulmate names being written in Ancient Greek and the like before, but I don’t think anyone has recorded any in Klingon before.”

Roman could have puzzled over this for ages more, but as it finally occurred to him, this was his soulmate standing in front of him. Shouldn’t he do something about that?

Wriggling his left wrist out of Logan’s loose grasp, he cupped the other teen’s face gently in his hands. Logan’s pale whitish green makeup was coming off in his hands, and the two of them no doubt looked ridiculous from an outsider’s perspective, but he found that it didn’t matter to him in the moment.

“I must say,” Roman said quietly. “While unexpected, this is most certainly not an unwelcome development.” A suave grin danced its way across his face. “I’ve been eyeing you all day, cutie.”

Logan’s breath puffed out softly against Roman’s face. “I....” The loquacious cosplayer seemed lost for words again as he pressed closer. “I—”

“Oh, go get a room already!” a warbly voice interrupted them.

Roman and Logan sprang apart, their cheeks heating up equally in embarrassment.

“Yeah, that’s right,” Remus grumped. “I’m still here.” After a moment, though, he brightened. “Oh, wait! This means you two can go on double dates with me and Janus and we can make out and embarrass you!”

“Please, do not,” Roman groaned, He reached out for Logan once more, reveling in the tiny squeak he let out, and he buried his face in Logan’s hair. “You ruin everything, asshole.” It was a playful jab, though; without Remus there to drag him to the convention, he might not have ever even met Logan.

So it had been a good thing after all that Roman had gone with Remus to this geeky convention thing, instead of to hear that linguist’s lecture. All the linguists in the world couldn’t have helped him beyond deciphering the words on his wrist. All the linguists in the world couldn’t have quite literally grabbed his soulmate by the arm and dragged him over, like Remus did.

“Thank god!” Remus realized, gleeful. “This means you’ll finally stop complaining about being lonely forever!”

“We’re soulmates,” Logan realized, sluggish. “We—I have your name on my wrist. You have my name on your wrist.”

“Oh my god,” Roman realized, dismayed. “This means I have a nerd language stuck on my arm for the rest of my life!”

Although, if it meant being with Logan for the rest of his life...perhaps a permanent nerd tattoo was a small price to pay.

Roman untangled himself from Logan and pulled away, biting back a grin when Logan instinctively chased after him. “Wanna come get milkshakes with us?”

“That would be satisfactory.” Logan nodded his assent. “However, we might want to take off our cosplays first.”

“Nah,” Roman dismissed. As a theatre kid he’d been to plenty of Steak ’n Shakes in full stage makeup, and he was pretty sure all the local Cookouts knew his order by heart at this point. “That’s part of the fun!”

Roman reached out and grasped Logan’s hand in his own, pulling him with as Remus began honest-to-god skipping to the car. The three broke into easy banter about the best milkshake flavors, and this time Roman couldn’t hold back the grin as Logan passionately decried the practice of dipping fries in shakes.

A small price to pay, indeed.

Fin

Day 1 || Day 2

Day one of @tsshipmonth2020 ’s Soulmate September! I’m almost an hour late in my time zone, but hey! It’s still September first in Alaska, so this totally counts as on time! ...Right?

Want to be added onto any of my taglists? Shoot me an ask or a message here or via my other social media!

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annoyedfanfiction · 5 years

Text

Jim Kirk x fem!reader (18/could be read as part 1 of its own story)

“I have a question,” Bones announced to the table at breakfast. The other four of you raised an eyebrow at him. “Ooh that’s creepy. Anyway, you two–” he gestured between yourself and Spock, “–are what, distant half-cousins? How come (Y/N) doesn’t do any of the freaky Vulcan voodoo?” “Romulans and Vulcans evolved from the same ancestors,” Spock answered, evenly, “However at the time that Romulans left Vulcan after choosing to reject the principles of Surak, telepathy was highly frowned upon. It is likely that the split was clan-based in some way, given the militaristic nature of our ancient society, and therefore it is possible that none of the clans that left possessed the genetic material required to develop and pass on telepathy.” “Basically,” you shrugged, “Although, given the taboo, it was difficult to know who was telepathic and who wasn’t as no one with any sense admitted to being telepathic. There are undoubtedly some telepaths on Romulus, or at least, those capable of being telepaths with significant training, but the Tal Shiar isn’t exactly keen on difference or dissidence, so the majority would keep quiet about it.” Here, Spock turned on you, quizzically. “Undoubtedly seems an inaccurate assessment, Ambassador,” he hedged, frowning, “There is a 76.4% chance that given a clan-based split and the intrusive nature of the Tal Shiar government there would be no telepaths on Romulus.” You smiled, distantly, and sank back into your chair. “The majority of them keep quiet,” you admitted, eventually, too quiet for the rest of the table, but you knew Spock could hear you. “My mother left.”

“Fascinating.” Spock tilted his head, curiously. “What’s fascinating?” Jim demanded, eyes flicking between the two of you. “What did you say?” “My mother was telepathic.” You picked awkwardly at your lunch. “That’s why she left Romulus.” “Are you telepathic?” Uhura inquired, as Bones delighted over Spock being wrong for once. “Strangely, yeah,” you huffed, rubbing the back of your neck. “My Dad’s side, though almost entirely human, had a weird kind of run in with Betazoids in a few of my great-great-grandfather’s many affairs. We’ve never really been sure who was whose kid, but I had a DNA test and apparently Dad passed on the Beta genes. That made me extra-receptive to telepathic genes – with and without touch. I shield all the time, don’t worry! I’m not reading anyone’s mind.” “Woah wait I’ve been kissing a telepath for three years without knowing it?” Jim interjected, incredulously. You winced, finally looking over at him apologetically, but finding only blatant amusement in his blue eyes. “Is this why you always beat me at chess?” “You are currently on an eight match winning streak,” you pointed out, not even trying to keep the relief from your voice. “And since you don’t plan your strategy ahead anyway, what would be the point of reading your mind?” He grinned, and threw an arm over your shoulders. “Hang on, hang on,” Bones interrupted the peaceful moment, yet again. “More important than your bloody chess, does this mean you’re gonna have to do the bonding shit if you ever want to get married?” “Thinking ahead as always, Bones.” Jim rolled his eyes. “Bonding is not part of Romulan culture,” you answered, simply, “And I’m not exactly the epitome of Romulan culture anyway. I theoretically could bond or mind meld with someone, but I don’t need to any further than humans bond.”

“Fascinating,” Spock repeated. “You don’t need any of the telepathic connections Vulcans require from infancy?” “Not in the sense of “bonding” in the Vulcan manner. We form them naturally, the same way humans do.” The whole table stared at you, blankly. “Humans don’t form telepathic bonds,” Bones pointed out, eventually. You blinked. “Of course you do,” you frowned, folding your arms. “They aren’t as strong as those of psionic species, obviously, but natural ties form between the minds of close humans. Friends, family, crew members. You can’t communicate with one another, or even detect them, necessarily, but they contribute to your intuition, interpersonal connection, and emotional responses. Have you not experienced this phenomenon, Spock?” “I made the assumption that the formation of a bond was unique to the combination of psionic and psi-null individuals,” he mused, placidly. “Although, given the nature of Vulcan bonding, they did not form spontaneously, possibly due to my shields, but were easily cemented through conscious bonding.” “So you’re telling me the reason I can tell when Jim’s being an idiot–” Jim opened his mouth to protest, but shut it pretty quickly when Bones shot him a glare. “–is because we have a telepathic bond?” “Well, it’s not necessarily telepathic in the connotative sense we use it, but following the strict definition of telepathy as ‘a communication by means other than the known senses’, then yeah.” Bones hummed, thoughtfully, though he didn’t look convinced. “And I’m not an idiot!” Jim grumbled, as you all stood to start your shift. Bones scoffed, but refrained from commenting.

“What do you mean we’ve lost contact?” Sulu sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. “That asteroid storm is travelling 30m/second and if we don’t move now it’s going to hit the ship as well as the planet!” “We need to get out of orbit,” you pointed out, voice calmer than you felt. “Ze storm is producing an unprecedented amount of electromagnetic energy, sir,” Chekov added, from the scanner, “If ze ship is hit, zere will be interference with the working of ze warp core and engine.” “We can’t just leave them all down there!” Sulu protested. “That’s not what I was suggesting.” The ship lurched against an incoming wave of electromagnetic energy again, and Sulu sprang from the Captain’s chair to take over the helm from the petty officer who’d replaced him. “You have the conn,” he instructed you, taking his usual seat. “What are you planning?” “Scotty!” You crossed the room and pressed the comm on the Captain’s chair. “Wha’ can I do fer ya?” His voice was strained, but the familiar lilt was reassuring nonetheless. “I need you to try and diffuse the electromagnetic interference well enough to manage long-distance transport. I’m sending Chekov down.” Chekov stood and made his way to the turbo lift quickly. “Aye. I cannae make any promises, lass, but we’ll try.” You could hear him already tinkering in the background. “That’s all I can ask, Mr Scott,” you smiled, warmly, flicking off the comm. “Sulu, I need you to move us into orbit around the second moon.” “Aye.” He programmed the console expertly as you folded your legs into the Captain’s chair, sitting criss-cross and watching the ship turn away from the planet. “Ensign Taylor, continue trying to make contact with the landing party,” you instructed the young comms officer. He nodded, turning back to his console, and you straightened your posture in the Captain’s chair, reaching into the depths of your mind to pull out your bond with Jim.

“Nothing,” Uhura sighed, again, snapping her comm closed. “Captain, we’re completely out of contact.” “There is an unusual amount of electromagnetic interference which is not constituted by the planet’s atmosphere, Captain,” Spock informed him, tricorder beeping in his hands. “Electromagnetic storms are rarely planetary,” Jim pointed out, scanning the dry, flat landscape around them. “Uhura, keep trying.” You pulled at the back of his mind, and he frowned, scrutinising the empty landscape once again. –Not there, in here, idiot! – you snapped, pulling at him once again. –James Tiberius Kirk, I swear– –(Y/N)?– You visibly relaxed, breathing a sigh of relief that had Sulu raising an eyebrow as he finalised the orbit. –Anything high near you? Convenient mountain? Heck, even a boulder?– you questioned, brusquely. –We’ve had to leave orbit- – “You what?” He didn’t realise he’d said it out loud until Spock looked up from his tricorder. Uhura had already noticed his sudden silence and was watching him curiously. –Say hi to Spock and Uhura from me– you laughed, feeling him sigh. –There’s an asteroid storm headed your way, it was going to hit the ship. It’s producing a weird amount of electromagnetic radiation which is interfering with our comms - and our transporters. Chekov, Jaylah, and Scotty are working on beaming you up. I’ve gotta go, we’ve got a scanner alert coming in. Just shout if you need me. Mentally, of course, wouldn’t want to damage Spock’s sensitive ears– “Well, apparently the source of our problems is an asteroid storm.” Jim refocused on his companions, noting somewhat more disappointedly that there was no cover on this stupid planet. “Asteroid storms do not typically produce significant electromagnetic radiation.” Spock tilted his head, as close to a frown as ever. “Scans show that the electromagnetic radiation is emanating from a generator in the centre of the asteroid storm,” the petty officer – Hanson – explained. “That generator can only be artificial, but there are no known species this far out that are technologically capable of producing it. The closest society capable of that would be–” “–Romulus,” you finished, grimly. Her ponytail bounced as she nodded. “I just love family reunions.”

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enterprisetrampstamp · 6 years

Note

11. McSpirk

in which, like, nothing really happens, including the cuddling that’s supposed to be the prompt

When the door chimes, Len calls for Jim to enter without even looking up from his laundry. He’s not in civvies often enough to have to take care of it regularly- he doesn’t care to admit it, but this is the first time he’s even touched anything other than his underwear drawer in days- so he’s opted to do the folding himself. The action’s so mundane as to’ve become cathartic, this far out along the edges of Federation space.

He sighs, smoothing out an ancient t-shirt from college. Len’s not sure why he even still has the thing; it was too big when he bought it, way back when, and he’s slimmed up considerably since then. It’s worn out, too, so old you can barely even read “Ole Miss” any more. Maybe that’s the attraction in and of itself, he admits–the cotton is soft under his fingertips in a way that only comes with time.

Footsteps come to a stop at the threshold of his bedroom, and he blindly tosses a few pairs of pants over his shoulder. “Make yourself useful, while you’re here; it’s been a long day.”

“The length of the day on a starship is standardized, Doctor; no day is longer or shorter than another,” Spock says lightly (for a Vulcan), and Len nearly jumps a foot in surprise.

“Sweet Jesus!” He lays one hand over his pounding heart, squeezing his eyes tightly shut for a brief moment. “You scared the devil out of me. I thought…” Len trails off as Spock sets both pairs of jeans on the bed next to him, folded as neatly as Len’s own mama would have done.

The only thing he can think to say is, “I guess somethin’ Lady Amanda taught you managed to slip through after all.”

Spock fairly radiates amusement when Len looks up at him, for all that his body language doesn’t change a bit. “You did order me to ‘make myself useful’,” he says, reaching for the laundry basket, and the door chimes again.

“That you, Jim?” Len hollers. He breaks eye contact with Spock, his cheeks heating up slightly, and brushes past him.

“Who else, Bones?”

Len glances over his shoulder at Spock as he moves into the main room, receiving a raised eyebrow in response. “Oh, you’d be surprised,” he chuckles, thumbing the button to open the door. “Come on in, Jimmy.”

“Been a long day,” Jim announces even as he crosses the threshold, making Len smile; there are two glasses slung between his fingers and a bottle of wine in his other hand. “Just what the doctor ordered?” he asks, a twinkle in his eye.

“Sure thing.” Len sets his hands on his hips, bouncing on the balls of his feet. “Got another glass?” he asks slyly.

Jim tilts his head, setting the wine aside in favor of sliding his arm around Len’s waist. “Another…?”

“Spock’s in the bedroom,” Len says cheerfully, and Jim’s eyebrows shoot up. “He’s folding my laundry,” he adds.

Jim licks his lips, opens his mouth, and promptly closes it again. Len waits patiently, a gentle smile on his lips; a moment later Jim admits, “I’m confused.”

“Thought he was you, so I threw some pants at him and told him to make ‘imself useful.” Len palms Jim’s ass, getting a surprised “oomph” and a rakish grin for his efforts. “He’s much better at foldin’ ‘n you are,” he continues, voice teasing. “Everything’s nice ‘n’ crisp, and he didn’t even try and pull off my shirt because he ‘thought I wanted everything folded, oh, sorry, Bones’.”

Jim’s eyes twinkle as he carelessly tosses the wine glasses towards the couch- they must be polycarbonate, the way they clink together without breaking- but Len smacks him in the chest before he can open his mouth.

“If you try it tonight, I’m takin’ the wine and Spock, and I’m leavin’ you with the laundry,” he says firmly, rolling his eyes–though he can’t quite bite back his fond smile; Jim just grins and leans in to steal a quick kiss.

He’s still close enough for his breath to brush over Len’s lips when he murmurs thoughtfully, “So Spock’s in your bedroom.”

“’N’ he can probably hear every word we’re saying,” Len points out, nipping at Jim’s bottom lip before extricating himself completely. “Not to mention that I wasn’t raised to leave the chores up to my guests,” he chuckles, heading towards the other room, “no matter how entertaining the sight.”

Jim hooks two fingers in Len’s belt loop and crowdsclose as he follows him. When they turn the corner, Jim calls out, “Evening, Mr. Spock,” with laughter thick in his voice.

“Captain.” Spock nods vaguely in their direction. His attention is caught, however, by the Starfleet Academy t-shirt he holds out in front of himself, one eyebrow raised. “I was under the impression you had not attended the Academy, Doctor.”

Len clears his throat as Jim buries a laugh in the back of his neck. “That’s, ah, a correct impression, Spock,” he says, trailing awkwardly to a stop. Jim is a line of warmth and gentle strength against his back, and it does nothing to help keep his face from burning. “You’ll notice it’s also a tad large for me.”

“As are many of your non-uniform shirts,” Spock points out. “As a data point, the size indicates little–”

“It’s mine, Spock,” Jim says, with gentle amusement, and Spock’s back straightens even further than normal as he looks over at them.

“Indeed,” he comments blandly, his gaze flicking across the both of their faces. His movements are swift and efficient as he begins folding the shirt, his eyes swiftly averted once more.

“Spock,” Len says, slowly. If he were anyone else, Len would think that not-expression on his face was betrayal. “Did you not realize…?”

“There are nuances of human culture which I still do not easily recognize.” Spock sets the shirt on the stack, his fingers lingering on the soft fabric. “If your attempts to inform me of the changed nature of your relationship were couched in allusion and indirect language, I have missed them.”

His body language is difficult to parse at the best of times; in this low lighting, with him partly turned away from them, Len can’t even begin to guess what he’s thinking. He hopes Jim- whose fingers are drumming a thoughtful beat against Len’s hip- has a better inkling of what’s going on underneath that bowlcut.

They’re close enough together that he knows, from Jim’s intake of breath, that he’s about to speak the moment before he does; Len relaxes, certain that Jim will- as ever- know exactly the right thing to say.

“I suppose, then, that our attempts to imply we were also interested in changing the nature of our relationship with you must have likewise flown over your head.”

Or not.

“Jim,” Len hisses, shoving him off. “A little tact–”

“Has obviously gotten us nowhere,” Jim whispers, his grin crooked. “We have to adapt to changing circumstances, Bones.” His step is light as he curves around the room, jerking his chin to motion Len towards Spock’s other side. Len ignores him.

They’re both under intense scrutiny; Spock’s dark eyes cut from one to the other almost suspiciously as Jim–well, for lack of a better word, Jim stalks forward. He jerks his chin again, hissing, “Are you going to pull your weight here or not?” and Len throws his hands in the air.

“Spock, get away while you still can,” he complains. “Datin’ him isn’t worth it.”

Jim turns his attention from Spock to Len, rearing back incredulously. “Excuse me?”

Len lifts an eyebrow, his hands finding his hips once more as he rocks back on his heels. “‘Pull my weight’?” he demands. “Whose bedroom is he in again, Jim boy?”

“He’s here to fold your laundry!”

“And he’s doin’ a better job of it than you ever have!”

Jim spins on his heel, gesturing to Len with one hand as he addresses Spock. “And he says dating me is a trial. Mr. Spock, have you ever seen anyone quite so contrary, for the sheer sake of being contrary?”

“Every time he looks in the mirror,” Len scoffs, not even giving Spock a chance to answer, and Jim’s surprised into a laugh that he quite ineffectively turns into a cough.

“For God’s sake, Bones; can you get through a conversation without insulting him?”

Len looks at Spock, raking his gaze from pristinely shined shoes to pointed ears, and bounces on his toes. “Nope,” he states, popping the ‘p’ with distinct relish.

Spock- who’d been looking increasingly overwhelmed since Jim’s announcement- visibly (if subtly) relaxes into the familiar exchange. “I could hardly expect any less from the good doctor,” he informs Jim, clasping his hands behind his back. “In the face of superior logic, he rarely has outlet beyond unfounded accusations and vulgarities.”

“Very true, Mr. Spock,” Jim agrees gravely, likewise clasping his hands behind his back. His eyes, however, sparkle with the utmost mischief.

“‘Superior’ logic,” Len mutters, faux indignant, and sidles up to Spock, crossing his arms over his chest and tilting his chin up to meet those dark eyes. (On the Vulcan’s other side, Jim likewise closes the distance between them.) Len takes a breath, forcing some of the tension out of his shoulders; in return, his voice comes out more hesitant, more raw than he’d intended.

“Teasin’ aside, Mr. Spock…” he dares to reach out and brush his fingers over his covered upper arm. “We’da broached the subject more carefully if we’d realized you didn’t already know.”

“There is no need for… apology, Doctor,” Spock promises, after a moment of hesitation. It doesn’t feel as if he’s lying–simply that he’s uncertain of how to respond. Possibly, Len muses, uncertain as to how he even feels about all of this.

Jim sets a hand on Spock’s shoulder and then, after a moment of deliberation, slides it around to cup the back of Spock’s neck. He says firmly, his gaze locked with Spock’s, “We’re your friends; we should have told you about our relationship explicitly some time ago, and that deserves an apology.”

“Captain–”

“Jim,” Len interjects. His lips twitch as Spock startles, ever so slightly–he understands, intimately, the way the rest of the world falls away when Jim Kirk looks at you like that. “In a situation like this, it’s more than appropriate to call him ‘Jim’.”

“Now Bones, on the other hand, will kick you out of his quarters for calling him ‘Leonard’,” Jim teases, his thumb tracing an arc back and forth over the soft skin of Spock’s neck.

Len scoffs, running his knuckles lightly down the curve of Spock’s spine as he leans across him to taunt, “Just you, Jimmy.”

Jim raises his eyebrows, a delighted- if surprised- sort of grin on his face, but Len leans back ruefully before he can respond. “We’re getting ahead of ourselves,” he says, pointedly folding his arms over his chest to make sure he keeps his hands to himself.

“Right.” Jim licks his lips. “Right.” He reluctantly removes his hand from Spock’s neck, and for a moment he’s quiet, his hand flexing thoughtfully by his side, and then he squares his shoulders–and Len yawns, loudly and involuntarily, burying it behind one hand as he blinks away the tears that spring up in response. When his vision clears, Jim’s deflated once more, a fond, indulgent smile on his lips.

“It’s been a long day,” he says again, and Spock shoots Len an exasperated look. Jim continues, oblivious, as Len rubs a grin away with one hand, “Maybe we should leave the particulars of this conversation for another time.”

“Probably not the worst idea,” Len admits. He can feel the exhaustion pressing down on him, and knows- no matter how nice of a front they put up- that Spock and Jim feel the same.

Spock nods, short and sharp, and folds his hands behind his back once more. “Then I will take my leave. Goodnight, Jim; goodnight… Leonard.”

“Well, well, well,” Len drawls, a grin on his face and rocking back on his heels. “Goodnight to you, too, Mr. Spock.”

Jim hums, a twinkle in his eye as he watches the exchange. “I like it when you get along,” he tells them, sincere and amused and open all at once, in that way only he can manage.

“We always get along,” Len protests. “Sometimes ‘getting along’ just involves a lot of yelling. Right, Spock?” He nudges the Vulcan with one elbow, grinning broadly.

Spock, bless him, comes to the conclusion that changing the subject is the safest route. “Do you require further assistance with your laundry, Doctor?”

Biting back his laughter (Jim, on the other side of Spock, doesn’t even bother), Len shakes his head. “I’ve got it covered, Spock, but thank you for the offer.”

Jim’s giggles trail off while Len smiles up at Spock, and for a long moment the room is still and companionably quiet. Len doesn’t want Spock to go, he muses; and all it would take to keep him here would be one word--”stay”.

But without a proper discussion of what they all expect from each other, he can’t put that kind of pressure on Spock. Len sighs, running a hand through his hair with a tired smile. “Have a lovely night, Spock,” he says softly.

Spock inclines his head in acknowledgement, and just like that he’s gone.

Len groans, fingers curling in the fabric of Jim’s uniform shirt as he drops his forehead to the other man’s shoulder. Jim’s arms circle around him, holding him loosely, as he grumbles goodnaturedly, “Half expected you to up and invite him to bed while he was here.”

Jim hums. “I thought about it, but it wasn’t worth the gamble; seemed more likely you’d kick us both out.”

Well, he’s probably not wrong. Len extricates himself with a snort. “Go on and change while I finish up here,” he orders, turning away and busying his hands with the last few shirts in the basket.

(With a grin, he pretends not to see Jim stealing his Ole Miss shirt from the bottom of the stack.)

#mcspirk #mckirk #leonard mccoy #spock #jim kirk #I wrote this #a tramp stamp original #wristwatch6minslow #everybody thank xkit for me having an ask tag

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whenthemarshmallowmettheslayer · 6 years

Note

Favorite fics you ever written?

Warning this a long post because I've written a lot of fics.

For Harry Potter:

1.) The Definition of Good. Summary: After Chamber of Secrets Harry gives Dobby a place to stay. Everything changes.

2.) Keep it simple, keep it safe. That's all you can do when it's too late. Summary: Harry smiled; it didn't reach his mom's eyes. "There's no need to call me sir professor," Harry quipped once again. This Harry knew. This Harry could take and dare he say it? Liked. Or rather, he liked it compared to the alternative despite his hatred towards the greasy haired wizard before him.

(Harry can't help but remember the chocolate cake slices and hours of looking at photos of Mrs.Figg's cats, the warm - to the point he feels as though they may burn him - embraces from Mrs. Weasley, Dumbledore's soft spoken promises and words that might as well be empty, of Sirius' offer of Harry living with him just gone in a blink of eye because he fell into a veil Harry's godfather could not come out of.)

For Percy Jackson:

1.) I scream too loud when I speak my mind. Summary: Percy Jackson does not accidentally vaporize his pre-algebra teacher and everything else that happens afterward. (I've actually loved writing all the parts of the series but I'm only including this one.)

For Death Note:

1.) To be a Queen. Summary: It's that the queens (Misa, only Misa, because Misa the idiot sees what no one else sees. L says he doesn't swing that way but L wants Light, Kira, but Light is Kira therefore the other king. So duh he can't be L's queen no matter what that pevert wants.) in chess are the most powerful pieces despite the kings (Ryuzaki and Light) being the most important. Because without the king (Kira and L) there's no game, if you defeat the other king you win; Kira wins and he will.

2.) Game over. Summary: Instead of replying to baby Kira Matt takes the cigarette out of his mouth and with a smile (it's weird to smile because Matt never really smiles and it's probably a real ugly ass sight to see) throws his last cigarette onto the Death Note.

Game Over, he thinks and just walks off without so much a word. He wonders briefly what's next. With Light it's easy (boring even). He'd follow his dear dad's footsteps and become a police officer. Probably the best and maybe he'll meet L. Those two assholes deserved each other, Matt decided, but what about him?

(Or the universe gives Matt a restart after dying and he sadly uses his last cigarette on the Death Note.)

For Tokyo Ghoul:

1.) There's a ghost in my lungs. Summary: A series of non-linear conversations where Haise learns about his past, how he became who he was, and people that Kaneki loved. (Haise time travels to the beginning of Tokyo Ghoul. I've only posted one chapter so far.)

For Jessica Jones/Alias:

1.) Rest in pieces our youth (so we might glue it back together again). Crossover with Spiderman Homecoming. Summary: Jessica Campbell and Peter Parker are least likely of friends ever since Jessica came back to school.

For Fullmetal Alchemist:

1.) I've got questions. Summary: Edward smiled thinly, something viscous but not ugly (never ugly, not when it came to her) was the look in his feral eyes.

"Rose," gently, Ed thought, like she was Al or Winry when they were doing stupid shit, "that was a list that represented the complete chemical makeup of a human body for the average adult. It had been calculated to the last microgram, but still there has never been one reported case of successfully creating a human life."

Some people put their faith in gods to be able to live their life; some, like him, lived their life to achieve a goal. There had once been a time when Ed use to pray with mom. He had even prayed after mom had died but had stopped a long time ago.

It wasn't the constant frustration of loose ends (till now, Edward thought, Cornello's ring on his mind). No, he had stop praying even before that. It wasn't even the bastard's sharp jabs that were constant; always there as though Edward would ever let himself forget. What an idiot; how'd that man ever become a Colonel? Besides obviously burning children and women to death that corpses he climbed on to get to the top of the military.

2.) (What is) insanity but the ability to draw the perfect circle? Summary: There's a creak in a board behind him and he whirls around, hands ready to clap. It's Scar. Again there is a difference. Well differences technically. That makes his hand hover, pausing him from clapping. Scar, wearing glasses while inside on a rainy day, stares at the sight before him.

He should take a picture. It'll last longer.

"Are you Edward Elric the Fullmetal State Alchemist?"

Maybe it's because someone has actually him if he's Edward that he answers honestly. "No."

Or Edward is okay with suggesting to partner up with Scar to kill his Fuhrer (who might not be a homunculus in this universe) but isn't okay with Nina going in the rain and getting a cold.

For Star Wars:

1.) Love of a daughter. Summary: "and yet, so far at least we have yet to figure out what you gain from this." It's a question as well as statement. A chance to explain, to come clean on why she - a unknown Sith- had assassinated they're precious, beloved Chancellor (what fools). But how could you come clean when there is so much blood on her hands? Never-mind the sins and blood on Vader and Luke's when her family had been alive.

When she answers it's not because she's announcing her transgressions in hope that her heavy, dirty soul might be saved. One couldn't repent when they didn't feel guilt in their sin.

"For the love of a daughter." Leia pauses and looks back at Anakin and thinks: I did this to avenge you. After thinking that Leia says one more thing - the last thing actually because she nothing else to say after this.

"And you should have been more careful electing your Chancellor. You never know who is Sith." This has double meaning but she's the only person who knows it.

And she's fine with that (no, she isn't).

Leia wonders if her younger self and Luke will ever become the monsters like her Luke had been and the monster she is.

2.) When dreams come true (which they often do when Anakin Skywalker dreams them). Summary:It happens in the day, in the light. A dark masked man with heavy breath that was killing the slave owners and freeing the slaves. No one - not even the Hutts, who were now dead- could stop the droid looking man.

That doesn’t surprise Anakin though. Anakin had seen the stranger’s blade that coated the sands with different colors of blood. A red lightsaber. The man was a Jedi and he had come to free them.

(Or young Anakin's dream comes true just not in the way he dreamt it.)

3.) Nobody does it like Artoo. Summary: Because the droid had just killed Chancellor Palpatine. The man who was the closest thing Anakin had to father.

“Artoo please tell why you just killed Chancellor Palpatine?” He asks, in soft calm voice. He needs to keep a level head. Needs to be the Jedi many claim he cannot be. Deep breathe in. Deep breathe out. He could be calm when all he wanted to do was try to find the person who responsible for rewiring Artoo and show him/or her why it was a bad idea to touch his droid and make his droid kill a person he loved.

Artoo beeps his answer and Ana-

“WHAT DO YOU MEAN PAlPATINE IS DARTH SIDIOUS AND THAT YOU’RE FROM THE FUTURE!?”

4.) Of time travel and relationship blocking. Summary: But he knows the universe is better off by Artoo's travel in time. Palpatine is dead. Artoo had killed the Sith Master that had destroyed too much of his humans’ lives. There was no Empire and Darth Vader did not exist. The twins were raised by their creators. All was good except Leia was coming to age of no longer a child yet not an adult.

Which meant other human boys were becoming attracted to future Senator. Human boys who were not Han Solo. It was becoming rather frustrating - to the point Artoo felt like rolling into a wall- but at least Anakin agreed that these human boys did not belong with his creation. (Sequel to the fic above. Never did write more chapters for this fic but I do adore it.)

For Star Trek:

1.) I appreciate your enthusiasm, but Kodos will not be in this production. Summary: This was not how Jim imagined telling Bones about Tarsus IV. Actually that was a lie. Jim had planned to never tell Bones about Tarsus IV. But so is the life of Jim Kirk (also known as James T. Kirk, JT, Captain, and t'hy'la to Spock and Ambassador Spock who both had yet to tell him what that word meant. A childish part of Jim thinks that Hoshi would tell him if she was still alive before his mood darkens. The memories - the guilt - of that day flashes before his eyes and God does Jim hate drugs.).

2.) Logically speaking. Summary: "Say mother had been," there had been a pause as Spock tried to find the right words to convey his question, "say mother went through unnecessary strife during her adolescent years and somehow you ended up in the past. Do you allow for her to face this to persevere an already faulted timeline or do you save her?"

By then, Amanda had made her way to her husband side so she could look into Spock's eyes. The question was odd and admittedly out there but her son's eyes said otherwise. Spock's eyes could be compared to an open book and that book told Amanda that this somehow was serious and her son was torn.

(Or the backstory on how Spock sort-of got permission from his father to steal a ship from the Vulcan Science Academy through Amanda Grayson's eyes.)

3.) I prefer to have my nightmares with open eyes. Crossover with Black Butler. Summary: Jimmy, JT, James Tiberius Kirk (whoever the hell he truly is) knows what it's like to adapt just to stay alive, to be whoever he needed to be just to survive. Just to eat.

It makes him laugh and JT doesn't know this but he reminds the demon (Sebastian he once was called and will take the name, the mask, of once again) of another young boy who the world had destroyed. Who had laugh a bitter laugh because that was all he could do. Crying, after all, did nothing. (Maybe one day I will write that Shinigami!Jim fic. If I ever do I will gift it to ShortyKatezey.)

4.) I need you, I need you, I need you right now. Don't leave me alone. Summary: It doesn’t matter in the end that this universe’s blue eyed James T. Kirk isn’t Spock Prime’s Jim. He still feels Jim-so familiar to his Captain, his Admiral, his Jim, his thyla yet so differnet, so angry, so broken - death.

It should have been me (it had been him in his universe) is Spock’s first thought after he momentarily gets over the wave, the crash of emotions he feels. His next thought is: I am not fine. (This is Spock Prime reacting to Jim's death in Into Darkness.)

5.) Of bored school boys and a death god. Crossover with Death Note. Summary: Ryuk drops the Death Note and a bored but brilliant beyond his years teenage boy picks it up. Sound familiar? Except it's not. JT is many things but a God complex isn't one of them.

For The Vampire Diaries:

1.) When did you dance with death? Summary: When did they all die? When did this become their lives? Was Damon to blame? Stefan to be blamed? Was Katherine to blame? Or Klaus to blame? Were Klaus' parents to blame for trying to keep their kids alive and eventually making them into monsters? Whose to blame for the fact they're all murders instead of simply, normal teenager?

And you know what? They're going to be dead for sure instead of just their morality and innocence having kicked the bucket. There's no vampire blood in their system that could cure them from what Klaus will inflict; Katherine ran from Klaus for hundreads of years and her family was slaughtered just because she wanted to live. They had killed Kol - Klaus' own brother - and trapped him with the burnt corpse.

2.) Revenge is best served with condoms. Summary: "I know who you are. You're the tasty little thing my older brother has come to truly fancy." Tasty little thing. Caroline froze; those words replaying in her head except in British accent (the only accent she truly had thing for).

For Yuri on Ice:

1.) The downside of love. Summary: Soulmates that share the bruises on their other's skin can have a downside if you haven't met them yet. Katsuki Yuuri learns this the hard way.

#Asks #anon #ao3

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spynotebook · 7 years

Link

All images: CBS

Hey, did you hear there’s a new Star Trek show starting September 24? Anticipation is mighty high here at io9—but for everyone who hasn’t been cataloguing every bit of info that CBS has revealed about Star Trek: Discovery on the long road to its debut, we’ve assembled this handy guide to get you up to speed.

Timeline and setting

Discovery, the sixth live-action Star Trek series, was initially announced as taking place in the prime timeline, the same universe as the other TV shows and their related films—but not the recent J.J. Abrams directed and/or produced movies. Since it takes place 10 years prior to the events of The Original Series, it’s more relevant to that show than Enterprise, which took place a century prior. That also means we’ll be seeing some retro-future takes on the classic show’s signature tech flourishes, including a variant on the phaser (though the badges and the flip communicators look fairly familiar). The Starfleet uniforms, however, are closer in look to Enterprise’s blue jumpsuits, rather than the classic colorful costumes of original Trek. (For once, though, away teams will get body armor, an idea that clearly fell out of fashion by the time Captain Kirk and company were boldly going beyond.) As the title implies, most of the action will center on the USS Discovery, though it won’t start there; instead, it seems we’ll first meet the main character when she’s serving aboard the USS Shenzou.

Main characters

Lt. Commander Michael Burnham (Sonequa Martin-Green)

Discovery’s protagonist is unique in the Star Trek pantheon for a variety of reasons. One is that—unlike Kirk, Picard, Sisko, Janeway, and Archer—Burnham is not (yet) a captain. Another is that she was raised on Vulcan after her birth parents (both human) were killed by Klingons. Her adoptive parents just happen to be Spock’s parents, Sarek and Amanda Grayson, and her unusual upbringing means she’s the first human to have attended both the Vulcan Learning Center and the Vulcan Science Academy. (This is the first we’ve ever heard that Spock had a sister, though one of Discovery’s producers insists there will eventually be an explanation for that.) Based on ominous hints we’ve seen in the trailers, an early episode will explain the incident that causes then-First Officer Burnham to leave the Shenzou, where she’s serving under Captain Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh), and end up on the Discovery, to be Number One under Captain Lorca (Jason Isaacs).

Sarek (James Frain)

We learned way back in January that Spock’s father was joining the show—as a younger version, quite obviously, of the character we first met on The Original Series. But it wasn’t until July’s San Diego Comic-Con that his specific connection to Burnham became known. In the first Discovery trailer, Sarek appears in a Vulcan flashback, as well as in hologram form to Burnham to counsel her about leadership. Sarek has a long history in Trek, first appearing with a strained relationship with his half-human, Starfleet son and eventually dying on The Next Generation, after sharing a number of intense scenes with Picard.

Captain Philippa Georgiou (Michelle Yeoh)

As mentioned above, she’s the top commander on the USS Shenzou. In the trailer, we learn that Burnham and Georgiou have been working together for awhile, and Georgiou has become confident that it’s time for her protégé to get her own command. That is, until something (maybe an alien object?) makes something (maybe very bad?) happen to Georgiou. We aren’t certain of her fate yet, but you might not want to get terribly attached to this particular character.

Captain Lorca (Jason Isaacs)

He’s the captain of the Discovery—but he’s not the star of the show, and that’s not the only thing that makes Lorca different from previous Star Trek captains. According to Isaacs, the character is “probably more fucked up” than most Starfleet officers, which means he’s been through some exceptionally crazy shit during his time in space. That’s a quality that could create an interesting dynamic between Lorca and Burnham; in the second trailer, he seems stern when speaking with her: “You helped start a war. Don’t you want to help me end it?”

Lt. Commander Saru (Doug Jones)

The alien science officer aboard the Discovery, Saru’s the guy who delivers the trailer’s most chilling line: “My people were biologically determined for one purpose alone: to sense the coming of death. I sense it coming now.” He’s a Kelpien, a race that’s new to both Starfleet and the Star Trek series overall; their ability to sense death evolved on a home planet where they were hunted as prey. He stands almost seven feet tall on his hooved feet. At SDCC, it was mentioned that Saru and Burnham have a “brother/sister relationship;” Jones has also said that Saru is a character equivalent to the Spock or Data of this series. That’s a telling description, since Trek loves to have a character with an alien point of view and, specifically, one who can comment on human characteristics.

Lt. Stamets (Anthony Rapp)

He’s another science officer aboard Discovery, an astromycologist (translation: this dude knows a lot about space fungus). A far more exciting fact about Lt. Stamets is that he’s Star Trek’s first openly gay character (on TV at least; in the movies, Sulu has a male partner). As it happens, Discovery also has Star Trek’s second openly gay TV character as well, in the form of Lt. Stamets’ partner: ship’s doctor Dr. Hugh Culber (played by Wilson Cruz).

Cadet Sylvia Tilly (Mary Wiseman)

She is an eager young Starfleet cadet assigned to Discovery, specializing in engineering and reporting to Lt. Stamets. After she becomes Burnham’s roommate, they form what Wiseman describes as “an unlikely friendship.”

Harry Mudd (Rainn Wilson)

This character—full name: Harcourt Fenton Mudd—is a con man, smuggler, and delightful sleaze who first appeared on The Original Series and has since become a cult favorite, largely thanks to Roger C. Carmel’s over-the-top performance. You can get a quick glimpse of Wilson’s take on Mudd as a younger man (“Are you mad?” “I’m MUDD!”) in the second Discovery trailer.

T’Kuvma (Chris Obi)

He’s a Klingon leader seeking to unite the 24 great Klingon houses—no easy task, especially since (as the second trailer reminds us) “the Klingon Empire has been in disarray for generations.” Klingons are the primary antagonists on Discovery, but the show will portray them as honorable warriors with—as you can see on T’Kuvma here—some really fantastic battle ensembles, not to mention new ships, at least one highly elaborate coffin, subtitles (when they’re speaking Klingon), and a biological reason for those distinctive forehead ridges.

Story and conflict

As mentioned above, Discovery will find the Federation at war with the Klingons. The show will run 15 episodes and we know a teeny bit about the first four installments. Episode one is titled “The Vulcan Hello,” and the description is nearly exactly what the two trailers have already revealed:

While patrolling Federation space, the USS Shenzhou encounters an object of unknown origin, putting First Officer Michael Burnham to her greatest test yet.

Subsequent known episode titles include “Battle at the Binary Stars,” “Context Is for Kings,” and “The Butcher’s Knife Cares Not for the Lamb’s Cry,” though we don’t have plot descriptions for those yet. Based on hints from showrunners Aaron Harberts and Gretchen Berg, however, the season will also focus on how the characters work through their differences together. Based on what the showrunners have said, he war with the Klingons will be in some way a comment on current political events, much like The Original Series reflected then-contemporary Cold War tensions. And Burnham will have to cope with whatever happened on the Shenzou, growing into the kind of leader that Sarek encourages her to be. She may also find herself caught between Vulcan and human cultures, much like her adoptive brother Spock was.

And the rest

The Discovery is a science vessel, which sets it apart from the Enterprise, which, as the flagship, was tasked with all sorts of things; with Voyager, which was designed specifically for long-term exploration; and Deep Space Nine, which was a space station. (And also very different from the Defiant, Deep Space Nine’s ship, which was designed to fight.) According to Memory Alpha, science vessels aren’t meant to be out in space for long periods of time, so maybe Discovery will be docked more often than in the other shows.

The design of the Discovery itself can be described, in the words of io9's Katharine Trendacosta, as being “sort of like Ralph McQuarrie’s original concept art for a new Enterprise and the original show’s ship had a baby. A baby about to go where no one has gone before.”

Composer Jeff Russo’s Discovery theme song calls back to Alexander Courage’s iconic original, while also doing its own melodious thing.

There will be a Mirror Universe episode.

After some initial misinterpretation, it’s actually totally fine to say “God” (as in “For God’s sakes!”) on the show.

There will be Tribbles.

Star Trek: Discovery premieres September 24 on CBS and CBS All Access. The rest of the series runs through November on CBS All Access, before taking a hiatus until January 2018. Each episode will be followed by Talking Trek, a live aftershow available on CBS All Access.

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