#Star Trek TOS fan fiction

[sobeautifullyobsessed]

A Khan By Any Other Name

a prequel to Star Trek: Into Darkness

mystery, suspense, danger ~ romance & NSFW material to follow

summary: Seraphina DiPietro is wise in the ways of the world; she has to be, as she travels the California coast as a torch singer in pubs, bars, and nightclubs. She knows how to take care of herself and stay out of trouble--most of the time. When trouble comes, it's usually because she lets her kind heart overrule her common sense. Stopping to check on a handsome stranger stranded roadside in the Mojave Desert, her curiousity is piqued as much by his classic, mint-looking Mustang, as by its driver--a tall, dark, mysterious drink of water, whom she quickly learns is so much more than he appears.

characters: Khan Noonien Singh (aka: John Harrison), Seraphina DiPietro (OC)

words: 1.9k

Chapter Two

“Drop it now,” he repeated, with the sure authority of a man accustomed to having his orders obeyed, “And I promise I will not hurt you.”

Despite his iron grip, Seraphina struggled to pull her arm away, hissing through teeth gritted against the pain, “Won’t hurt me?  You’re hurting me now.”

Harrison’s hold on her arm loosened some; she was still tightly caught, but the pressure of his grasp, the pain, had receded a fair bit—although she knew she’d find dark, finger-shaped bruises there in short order.  If she even lived that long. “Forgive me,” he told her, his voice low and even, “I’d forgotten how fragile your bones can be.”

What an odd thing to say, she thought, straining for release from his clutch and realizing it was all too impossible; she was no match for his strength, and even if she could manage to trigger the mace, she had no sure way to aim it properly.  She felt desperate, frightened tears well up in her eyes, but squeezed her eyes shut against them—for she would not give her assailant the satisfaction of her despair, nor would she beg for mercy.

He must’ve read that quiet resignation on her face, for he tugged her fist close and covered it with his free hand, urging her to see reason, “You cannot win this struggle, Seraphina.  Your resistance is futile; surely you understand this?”  Harrison’s voice was silk persuasion, rich and dark and seductive—at complete odds with the very real threat he presented.  “I could easily break your wrist and prize your little weapon from your fingers—but I honestly have no desire to hurt you. Just let it go.”  And then, to her great surprise, he added, “Please.”

Blinking through the tears that fell against her will, tears that betrayed weakness when she wanted to be strong, Seraphina met his eyes again.  His beautiful, deadly eyes—and saw in them an unexpected sincerity that matched his gentle “please”.  She bowed her head and opened her fist, leaving her key and the can of mace to fall onto the passenger seat.

“There—that wasn’t so difficult after all, was it?”  Why was his voice so soothing?  Fear of what he might do to her next coursed through her veins, yet Seraphina thought she could easily crumple to the ground, curl up into a fetal ball, and let his voice see her into untroubled darkness.  The heat, the fear, the adrenaline, the struggle—all of it had sapped her of the will to face whatever might come next.  She’d always believed it wasn’t in her nature to fall apart so quickly, but she felt that way now, all the same.

True to his word, Harrison released her arm, but Seraphina remained in place, braced against the passenger side door, shaking in the aftermath and considering her very limited options. She might try to make it to her hovercraft, but the stranger now held her key; and even if she had the strength to run and the speed to outpace him, to flee into the desert at her back would be equally as brutal as anything he might do to her. She'd have to make her stand right here, then--and though she was no match for his size and strength, she knew enough to leave him hurting before he took her down for good.

Taking stock of her condition--mentally preparing to fight him off as best she could--Seraphina flexed her left wrist carefully, wincing as she explored her tender forearm with cautious fingers. Nothing broken at least, though she felt a bone-deep ache; but it would not be enough to hamper any effort to defend herself.

Strangely, Harrison was ignoring her at the moment; having retrieved her keychain, he had torn the can of mace free with no effort, before hurtling it carelessly into the desert. Seraphina had a vivid image of her own broken, half-naked body flung just as easily and left upon the sand for carrion-eaters to feast upon. She shoved the idea down deep, knowing such fear would only cripple her--and was immediately dumbfounded when he held the key out to her.

"Did I not say I have no wish to harm you?" Harrison's eyes bored into her own, searching for calm and reasoned understanding. "In spite of how it appears, we are equally vulnerable in this place and situation. We must find a way to trust one another. " Sera only continued to regard him warily. "Take this," he insisted, "If I judge you correctly, simple concern for a traveler in need motivated you to stop. And in keeping with your nature, I believe that you will not deny me the help that I need."

Sera studied his face, looking for signs of deception, skittish to trust him but accepting his peace offering nevertheless. "You lied," she said, defiant yet holding her anger at bay, "This car isn't yours..."

Harrison nodded, his full lips pressed together against a small placid smile, "I never claimed that it was..."

"It's stolen," she fumed, irritated with herself for allowing him to so easily mislead her when her first instinct had been correct after all.

"An act of desperation, I assure you..."

"Just as this was," she exclaimed, extending her bruised forearm to him, "I have to wonder what happens to people who truly stand in your way, Mr. Harrison. "

Unruffled by her outburst, Harrison closed his eyes a moment and breathed deeply. When he looked to her again, he was the picture of patience. "I swear I have no desire to cause you--or anyone else--harm. But you must understand, I am in dire straits and as we linger here, my family is in imminent danger." He paused, weighing the effect of his words upon her. "Such a thing will make a man act beyond the measures of polite society."

Seraphina narrowed her eyes, skeptical of his revelation of a family, but suspending her disbelief for the moment, "How then? What sort of danger is your family in?"

"Their very lives hang in the balance, threatened by a powerful man who seeks to manipulate me into working for him." Embers of hate flashed in his eyes, and he gave a bitter huff as he added, "Forcing me to work toward the most nefarious of purposes."

Sera shook her head, clearing the double vision that had crept up on her; she cupped a trembling hand against her forehead, which came away slick with perspiration. It was the heat getting to her, obviously. She felt parched, although the thought of putting anything into her roiling stomach left her feeling even more nauseous, and her head was pounding in time with her racing pulse. She needed to get out of the goddamn heat before she collapsed from heat exhaustion--while the man before her looked completely unaffected by the desert climate. "And...and I suppose this mysterious man is so powerful that you can't seek help from the proper authorities?" Sera leaned all her weight against the car door, wondering if Harrison had noticed her current state of distress.

If he did, he gave no sign of it, a mix of pain and rancor coloring his strikingly handsome features. "So powerful that it would be in your best interest to remain ignorant as to his identity and position." Anticipating her next question, he warned her, "Do not ask--for I cannot reveal that information."

Though stymied by his vague replies--and sensing a much more complicated tale behind what he'd already admitted to--Sera read blunt honesty in his voice and body language. And the fact that he had willingly returned her key while asking for--rather than demanding--her help, seemed a testament to some underlying truth. She realized that she likely had only a few more minutes until she passed out, leaving her completely at Harrison's mercy. "Then how...how did you end up here, stranded in the Mojave," Sera asked, panting softly, "How does any of this help your family?"

He was watching her closely now, so that he had to aware that she was fading fast. "That is a rather long and complicated tale, Seraphina." His voice had again taken on a lulling pitch. "One which I believe would outlast your capacity to remain on your feet."

She held on to the window frame, white-knuckled but determined to remain upright long enough to learn his hidden agenda. "I'm fine...I...I'm just a little light-headed..."

"Step aside now, Seraphina." Again, that tone of a man whose orders were obeyed without question. "You have little time left before you lose consciousness." His hand was already on the door handle, and she stumbled back in time for him to swing the door open.

Then he was looming over her, a tall, cooling shadow, reaching out to brace her. His touch this time was firm, while surprisingly gentle. "We need to get you out of this heat." Unexpected concern in is stunning eyes, calming concern in his voice. The man was a beautiful enigma.

"No...please...tell me. If...if you want me to trust you..." Her world was darkening around the edges, narrowing so that only his face remained in her field of vision. "If you want me to help...I need...I need to know..." Seraphina felt herself going, and as her consciousness fled, so did her fear and curiousity; only one need remained. She sobbed against him as he scooped her up into his arms, "But you promised...you promised not to hurt me again..." Her eyes fluttered shut as she slipped away from awareness.

Harrison strode swiftly towards her hovercraft, cradling her as softly as he could, knowing that the cool, dark interior was the quickest remedy at hand for what ailed her. "Oh, pretty little Seraphina," he murmured, brushing his lips against her dampened hair, inhaling the sweet scent of jasmine and honey, relishing how light and easy she felt in his arms. "Hurting you is the least likely thing I have planned."

(to be continued)

If you enjoyed this, please reblog ~ it's the only way others can see this work.💟

tagging: @icytrickster17 @ironstrange1991 @strangelockd @groovy-lady @aphroditesdilemma @stewardofningishzida @battledress @mousedetective @dearmrsstephenstrange @lorelei-lee @mckiwi @shinebrightlikeafanbase @cumberbatchitis @doctorhelm @strangeflashholmes221 @prulock @stargirl-designs @hajile10 @dancingmushu @iloveavengersblog @fireonmybones @osugahunnyicedtea @brayleigh14

(There were a few more blogs that I tried to tag based on the response to chapter one, but tumblr's messed up url search function kept telling me 'no blog found'🤨)

#my writing #A Khan By Any Other Name #suspense #mystery #danger #Khan #Khan Noonien Singh #Star Trek Into Darkness #Star Trek: Into Darkness #Khan x OC #Khan x OFC #Seraphina DiPietro #OFC #OC #Khan x Seraphina #Khan fan fiction #Khan fanfiction #Star Trek fanfiction #Star Trek fan fiction #Star Trek TOS fanfiction #Star Trek TOS fan fiction #Benedict Cumberbatch #My Constant Muse #Khanbatch #my dark magnificent prince #deadly beautiful #beautifully deadly #sinister & sexy af #don't try to tell me that he's a heartless villain #his heart is deep and fathomless for those he cares about

[indeedcaptain]

Regulatory Relations, chapter 11: The Children of Tarsus

WAHOO THE PROBLEMS HAVE CONSEQUENCIES

First things first: content warning for descriptions of and discussions regarding someone's eating disorder. It's the fourth section, as separated by the stars. It's not super graphic, but it's present for sure. Go forth with the knowledge necessary to keep yourself safe.

Second: my deepest apologies to anyone who is a real programmer or hacker for the absolute nonsense. There's some real dubious science in the 'dubious science' tag here.

This chapter is also posted on my AO3 here!

☆☆☆

Elise crossed her legs, frowning, and tapped her pen against her chin. Jim slouched deeper into her couch. He was nineteen, still gangly but getting stronger, and he had failed a test that he hadn’t realized that he was taking. 

“I’m sorry to hear that your break didn’t go how you wanted it to,” she said. She watched him carefully. 

“It’s fine,” Jim said. He glanced out the window. The trees outside her building had all long since shed their leaves, and the bare branches were stark against the white winter sky. He hadn’t thought he would be back here so soon, but, as she had said, things hadn’t worked out quite like he had envisioned when he went back to Iowa on his break. 

“What happened?” She no longer asked him if he wanted to talk about things. He wasn’t sure if that was because she no longer wanted to give him the option to be silent or if she knew that he was desperate to talk to anyone who would listen about the rot in him. 

“What always happens,” he said, and he crossed his arms across his chest. She waited until he said, “It came up.” 

“How did it come up, Jim?” 

“How does it not come up?” 

“Don’t mumble, Jim, these old ears can’t hear you.” 

“You’re not even that old,” he said, more clearly, and she put on an air of being affronted. 

“It is not polite to discuss a lady’s age, James,” she said, and when he met her eyes he gave her a tiny, hard-won grin. She smiled gently back. “How did it come up?” 

“My mom asked if I wanted to see any of my home friends.” 

“And did you?” 

“No.” 

“Why not, Jim?”

Jim scoffed, rolling his head against the back of the couch to look out the window again. “Because the last time I saw most of them I was still dying in a hospital bed. I didn’t want them to come but my mom insisted, and now none of them will ever see me the same way. Even now they still see me like I was then.” 

“And your mother didn’t like that?”

“She doesn’t like any reminder that things aren’t back to normal.” 

Elise sighed and put her pen down on her lap. “I’m sorry, Jim. What happened then?”

“She cried about how she just wants to help, and I maybe yelled that she could help by letting me decide how and when I want to see people, and my dad yelled that I was upsetting my mom, and then we were all yelling and crying and then I bought another train ticket and came back.”

“Where was Sam in all this?”

Jim rolled his eyes. “He’s got some girlfriend now and spent the holidays with her family instead. Off-world. Like an asshole.” 

“Only assholes get girlfriends? Or go off-world?” Elise asked gently, and her eyes twinkled when Jim’s face screwed up in frustration.

“That’s not what I meant,” he said. “He’s an asshole for leaving me to deal with Mom and Dad on my own. He was my buffer.”

“That must have been very valuable for you,” she said. “When did that start?”

“After everything. He came back when I got home,” Jim said. “He used to run interference for me when Mom started to be too much.” 

“He left his school to come back?” 

“Yeah,” Jim said, and his throat tightened at the memory of Sam throwing open the hospital room door, just a week after Jim had gotten back to Earth. He had sat down in the chair next to Jim, pulled out his school padds, and did not leave his side until Jim was released. 

“He sounds like a good older brother,” Elise said. “Not an asshole.” 

Jim frowned and ducked his chin to his chest. “He can be both.” 

“Maybe,” Elise said. “Or maybe he saw that you were doing so much better that he knew he didn’t need to be there to protect you anymore.” Jim didn’t respond to that. “People are complicated, Jim, and they have their own needs. Now that you’re better, Sam needs to keep growing up. That means, for him, meeting a nice girl, falling in love, and spending the holidays with her family.”

“He could have brought her home to our family,” Jim grumbled. 

“You could suggest that for next time,” Elise said. “Many couples alternate years. Let’s refocus, though--- it seems to me like the problem isn’t really Sam. It seems like the problem is with your parents.” 

Jim pulled the throw pillow from the corner of the couch and crushed it against his chest before dropping his head against the backboard. “Aren’t we coming up on time?” 

“You know I always have time for you, Jim,” Elise said, and he groaned. But they talked about his parents, and she very politely pretended to take notes on her padd when he wiped away angry tears. 

“They have their own needs, like you, like Sam,” she said. “What they need now is to know that they didn’t lose their little boy forever. Of course things are different. They’ll always be different. But they need time with you that helps them to see what the future might look like. A future without the shadow of the colony over everything. And you can give that to them.” She smiled at him. He wanted to scream, “But I live in that shadow! I am that shadow!” But he didn’t.

“How?” 

“Next time your mom asks if you want to see your old friends, you say yes,” she said. 

“But I don’t want to.” 

She tilted her head gently, and in her face he read the answer: it didn’t really matter what he wanted. “I know, Jim,” she said. “But it’s what they need. Your next break is a few months away. Let’s set a goal of seeing your home friends next time and see if that makes things easier with your parents, hmm?” 

Kirk knew what came next. They had set goals, and he had failed to meet the benchmarks that they had set, and rather than go home and make things worse, he stayed on campus for the holiday at Elise’s encouragement. He still carried the shadow of what had happened over him, and rather than bring his parents and his old friends under the shadow with him, he stayed away. And it had worked. 

Kirk stood and crossed the room, and when he turned back, he looked back and saw himself sitting on the couch. His face was blotchy with frustrated tears, and he wiped his nose on the back of his hand like a child. 

“I’m dreaming,” he realized, but neither his younger self nor Elise acknowledged him. He blinked, and the nineteen-year-old version of himself was replaced with himself at twenty-three. This version of Jim sat up straight, with his legs crossed casually, one arm slung across the back of the couch. Kirk recognized the beginnings of the captain’s mask in the set of the young man’s face. He was older, more distant, but Elise looked at him just as warmly.

“These panic attacks, Jim,” she said, and looked down at her chart. She didn’t frown at Jim, but he could sense her disappointment in him. 

“I don’t have to stay here,” Kirk said, and he forced numb dream legs to carry him to the door. “This is a dream and I don’t have to stay here.” He yanked the door to Elise’s office open and strode out.

He walked directly into Elise’s office, appearing right where he had stood before, behind her chair.

“You want to be a captain, don’t you?” 

Kirk marched to the door again and crossed the threshold into the hallway to find himself back into Elise’s office. He could not leave. “Wake up,” he told himself, but the office remained material around him. 

“More than anything,” Jim said. 

Elise shifted in her chair, folding her hands in her lap, before pinning him with an intense gaze. “When you’re the captain of your own ship, you’re going to need to be unassailable.” 

There was a break in the expression on Jim’s face, and it revealed his fear. Elise said, earnesty in every syllable, “You’re going to be amazing, Jim. I know it. But to be the man that a whole crew relies on in a crisis is going to require more from you. To keep them from panicking, you have to be able to hide your own.”

Jim nodded, and Kirk found himself nodding with him. He tried to keep his neck still, his head unbowed, but he blinked and he was back on the couch, back in his twenty-three-year-old body. His joints ached.

“You were doing so well,” Elise said sadly, and her tone was incongruous with the soft smile on her face. 

“I am doing well,” Kirk said, defensive. He crossed his arms across his chest.

She consulted her padd. “You’ve been talking to your first officer, Jim? About your residual stress?” For a second her familiar warm tone dropped into a sneer; it told him exactly what she thought of his stress .

Kirk’s stomach flipped. “This is a dream,” he said. “This isn’t real. You don’t know my first officer.” 

“How can he trust you if he learns that so many things trigger this response in you? Your crew needs you to be the bulkhead against which they rest.”

“I am the bulkhead,” he said. “They can trust me. I haven’t let them down.” 

She smiled at him. Her pink and blue cardigan flickered into the bloody red of a security shirt, and her teeth were sharp and glinting. “Not yet.” 

Kirk woke, gasping into his sheets. He buried his face in the mattress and fought to slow his pounding heart. He was thirty-five, and on the Enterprise , and safe in his quarters. He had not let his crew down, and he had no plans to do so. Everything was fine. He would settle himself, subdue his anxiety into something more manageable, and everything would be fine. 

Fabric scraped against fabric as something moved across the room. Kirk bolted upright. Spock had crossed halfway to him, concern apparent in the scrunch of his eyebrows. 

How can he trust you? Elise’s voice echoed in his head, and his face burned with shame. He turned away from Spock, pulling himself from the bed, clenching the edge of the mattress in his hands.

“Captain, are you well?” Spock had stepped closer, within arm’s reach of him. 

“Fine,” he said shortly. How had he forgotten that he wasn’t alone? He had no space to breathe; there was a witness to his panic. “Just a weird dream. Excuse me.” Spock stood between him and the bathroom, trapping him. He sidestepped around Spock. Spock turned with him and reached for him, clasping his wrist loosely in one cool hand. “Captain---”

Kirk ripped his arm from his grasp and, ignoring Spock’s short, sharp inhale, strode into the bathroom. The door slid shut behind him, sealing him in blessed solitude. Forget hiding his feelings for a few days: he could not share quarters with Spock for a minute longer. He clearly could not trust himself not to have nightmares about the colony, or about Elise. Spock could not be there to see it. 

Kirk had gotten sloppy, gotten weak. He’d let Spock touch him too much, had enjoyed it too deeply, and now that simple contact was going to undo his years of effort and secrecy. He could not let Spock count his heartbeats or sense his anxiety through his telepathy any longer. He needed to push them back to the boundaries that they had maintained previously, before he lost Spock’s trust in his stability entirely. He had to be the bulkhead.

He set the shower temperature to punishingly hot and stepped under the spray. Asking Spock not to touch him anymore didn’t have to be a huge deal. Maybe he would be relieved. Maybe the picture of the way he looked at Kirk at the wedding was a fluke. He dried, dressed, and walked back into their room.

Spock had dressed while he was gone and stood with his hands clasped, leaning against his desk. He pushed upright as Kirk entered. 

“Mr. Spock,” Kirk said, and Spock tilted his head to the side slightly. The way he moved had become so dear to Kirk. He hated it. He exhaled hard through his nose and put his hands on his hips. “Look. There’s not an audience in here, and the paperwork is all signed. You don’t have to touch me anymore.” 

Spock hesitated before taking a step forward. Kirk gave no ground. “I am aware, Jim.” 

“Then you can stop. Mission accomplished.”

“I could,” Spock said, and he took another step forward. His eyes were fixed on Kirk’s. Kirk looked away. “But I have learned this week that you like when I touch you.” Another step. “I have learned that I do too.” 

Damn it, Spock. Damn it all. His tone was warm, inviting, intimate. Spock’s words put fireworks in his stomach, and Kirk’s hands ached with the effort of keeping them at his sides. Kirk forced himself to say, “But I don’t.” 

“You do not, what?” Spock’s voice was quiet. He was a foot away from Kirk. He could have put his hand on Kirk’s chest, felt the unsteady pounding of his heart, if he reached out. 

“I don’t like it.” 

Spock’s surprised blink was audible in the silence. “I do not understand,” Spock said, and his voice had turned robotic. Kirk’s heart sank, and shame burned under his skin. “Since you set this plan in motion you have encouraged my touch. You have accepted it. I have experienced your physical and emotional responses, both of which communicated appreciation and enjoyment. During--- during our wedding, I felt---” Spock stuttered, and cut himself off. 

Spock never stuttered. Kirk, despite himself, looked up. He saw the war on Spock’s face before Spock snapped his impassive mask down. Kirk was hurting him. He was protecting Spock from a lifetime of misery by cutting off whatever they could be at the roots, but he was hurting him. He felt his heart dying in his chest.

After a painful, silent moment, Spock’s eyes met his. “Repeat yourself, captain.” 

Kirk set his jaw as his stomach heaved. “I don’t like when you touch me.” Faster than Kirk could think, Spock’s hand flashed out and wrapped around his wrist as he said, “I want you to stop.” Kirk shoved Spock back 

“What the hell, Spock? I said---”

“Why are you lying---”

Kirk tried to yank his wrist from Spock’s grasp but it had become an unyielding cage. “Let go,” he hissed, and to his surprise, Spock released him. Spock clasped his hands behind his back, but not before Kirk saw that they were shaking. 

“Jim,” Spock said, and his voice was low and raw. Kirk’s skin burned where his hand had been. “I do not understand. Your words are in conflict with your emotions and actions from the past week, and you are in evident distress. Please. Let me help you.” 

“I don’t need help,” Kirk said, and he turned away. He stared at his--- their--- shelves and crossed his arms. His shame and grief calcified into anger. Why could Spock not let it, him, go? “I need you to stop touching me.” 

“I do not believe you,” Spock said. 

“You don’t have to believe me,” Kirk snapped. “You just have to do it.” 

Spock stiffened as if Kirk had slapped him, and turned so that Kirk could no longer see his face. Spock was silent for nearly half a minute before he asked, “Have I done something to offend you, captain?” 

Kirk closed his eyes. “No, Mr. Spock.” 

Spock was silent again before he said, “Very well.” Another pause, then he said, contemplative and cold, “You always surprise me, captain.” Kirk heard three steps, and then the turbodoor swished open and shut. When he opened his eyes again, he was alone. 

☆☆☆

Kirk fled to Medbay as soon as he was sure he could leave their quarters without seeing Spock in the hallway. Kirk let himself into Bones’s office and, by the time Bones finished his morning appointments and let himself in, Kirk had claimed the less comfortable of the two chairs to slouch in and buried his face in his hands. 

Bones sighed when he opened the door, but he showed no sign of surprise. “I thought I might find you in here,” he said. Kirk sat up. 

“Why?”

“Because Uhura got a padd message while she was visiting Chapel and fled like a bat out of hell about thirty minutes ago.” 

“Shit.” 

“Good shit or bad shit?” Bones asked, and he dropped himself into his desk chair. “What happened?” 

Kirk scraped his hands through his hair. He relished in the hurt of it. “Spock showed his hand.” 

“He told you he was interested?” 

“More or less.”

“And you swooned into his arms because you feel the same?” Kirk clenched his jaw and looked down. “Oh, Jimmy, no. What did you say?”

“I told him to stop touching me,” Kirk said numbly.

“That’s real cold,” Bones said, and Kirk glared at him. 

“Thank you for that, doctor. Who’s side are you on, anyway?” 

Bones slapped his hand down on the desk. “Yours, Jim, always, but it seems like you’re not even on your side right now! You found everything you wanted in the man standing by your side and you turned him away? Look, I know that I can never understand what you went through, but---” 

“This isn’t about me!” Kirk was on his feet before realizing that he had moved. “I am trying to be a good captain and a good friend. I am trying to keep him from having to live with what I live with. Forget bonding. We can’t even live together. He tried to touch me after a--- a nightmare this morning, and I won’t risk losing my first officer’s trust in me because I can’t get my act together!”

Bone’s eyes were sharp over his desk as he jabbed his finger in Kirk’s direction. “I don’t know who put that damn fool idea in your head, but it’s about time you got it out. I know you went at school, Jim, but therapy might---”

Kirk scoffed. “No more therapy. That’s where I got these damn fool ideas, anyway. You know, the crazy notion of protecting your crew,” he said, and turned to leave. 

Bone’s face went entirely slack. “What do you mean, that’s where you got these ideas from?” He mirrored Kirk, bracing himself on his desk as he stood, and Kirk turned back to him. “Jim, you endured an unendurable situation as a kid . My God, man, the stress response to hunger alone regardless of context is---” 

“Stop, Bones! Just don’t! I don’t want to talk about it!” 

“That is the entire problem!” Bones’s face was reddening. “Jim, I need you to explain what you meant that your therapist was the one who said that you were untrustworthy.” 

Kirk grimaced and turned away from Bones, the quick flare of anger condensing into a bleak numbness. “Not in so many words, but yes,” he said. He had never prayed harder for a black hole to swallow him up. “Just, that. Are you genuinely going to make me spell this out for you?” But he had lost Bones’s attention to the wall over his shoulder. 

“Jim, why did you ask me about a therapist crossing over between departments?”

“No reason,” Kirk said, but Bones narrowed his eyes. Gone was the southern gentleman, and his friend: he had been replaced by Starfleet’s number one diagnostician, the chief medical officer on the Federation’s flagship, a surgeon who regularly pulled miracles out of gaping wounds. Kirk might have been the captain of the ship, but Bones ranked him in Medbay.

“You saw a Starfleet doctor rather than a civilian one when you were yanked off of Tarsus.” Kirk absolutely did not flinch at the name. “You were assigned a Starfleet therapist at the Academy, one who apparently pushed you to hide your post-traumatic stress response in the name of your crew ,” Bones said, voice acerbic, and his eyes scanned from left to right in a way that made Kirk think he was reading his medical records from memory. Bones turned back to Kirk. He came around the desk, standing in front of Kirk. Kirk took a step back. “Jim, I need to know. Why did you ask about security officers?” 

Kirk had to look away from those blue, blue eyes. “I looked up my old therapist. The morning of the wedding. I had forgotten her name.” 

“And you found her?” 

“Yeah. But she wasn’t in Medical. She was a security officer. And her record is nearly empty.”

Bones stared at him, frowning. Kirk finally looked back at him. For a moment, Bones read his face before focusing hard on the wall over his shoulder, thinking. 

“Jim,” he said slowly, and leaned back against his desk with his arms crossed. 

“I’m fine,” Kirk said.

“You’re not,” Bones said, voice rough, and his eyes flicked to Kirk’s. “And I’m sorry I didn’t press the matter before. But I need to be your doctor before your friend right now, and you told me, Jim, you said you weren’t having nightmares anymore.” 

Kirk looked away. Bones said, “For how long?” 

“It’s not every day,” Kirk said. That was apparently not the right answer, because Bones’s eyes grew even more protuberant than usual.

“Jim, your record says that your therapist completely cleared you for duty when you graduated. You told me you were fine. You’re telling me that you’ve been having consistent nightmares about Tarsus for over ten years after being cleared by a psychologist who wasn’t even licensed?”

“I---” Kirk’s throat closed. 

“Please tell me you at least understand that something isn’t right here.” He stared at Kirk, eyes wide and full of heartbreak. “Jim, if I had known how badly you were still suffering, I would have---”

“I’m fine,” Kirk whispered, and Bones inhaled to argue as his office door flew open. 

“Head trauma,” Christine Chapel said. “Your assistance, please, doctor.” Bones nodded to her and pointed at Kirk. 

“You. Stay. We are not done.” Then he followed Chapel across the Medbay to a prone red-shirted body laid out on a biobed. But before the turbodoor had the chance to swish shut, Kirk slipped out silently and left.

☆☆☆

Kirk ended up in the observatory with no clear memory of how he arrived there. The decorations had all vanished, leaving only the white and chrome interior of the room and the enormous blackness of space beyond. He was alone, and only his footsteps interrupted the comfortable hums and beeps of the ship around him. 

He crossed to the window and sat, staring out at the stars as they warped onward towards the starbase where they would pick up Pike and April. Fewer than ten days ago Pike had made one little suggestion about how Kirk might keep Spock on the ship, and somehow, after it had all started off so well, Kirk had ruined everything. He had fallen in love, or realized that he’d already been in it, and Spock had come to him offering himself in return, and he had pushed Spock away. Kirk’s palms burned as he remembered that he had genuinely shoved him; had laid his hands on him in violence for perhaps the first time in their entire friendship.  

And then he had raised his voice at Bones. He pressed his hands against his face as his guilt threatened to drown him. He was trying to protect his friends from the shadow of Tarsus, the shadow that lived over and in him, and all he had done was hurt them. He wanted to be a good captain and a good friend, and had tried so hard. But he had discovered today that it was impossible to be both of those and be himself at the same time. 

He had thought, when he was younger, that his career would be worth losing himself beneath his mask of perfection. And he loved his career: he was Starfleet’s youngest captain, adored by his crew, trusted by the brass to lead an unprecedented deep-space exploratory mission. But for the first time, as Spock’s stuttering confusion and Bones’s gruff questions echoed in his head, he questioned if it would ever be worth it again. 

There was the heart of it, the truth that had made it so easy to turn down the potential of any stranger on a starbase: he had never before minded hiding himself away because he had never before so wanted to be known. But now he wanted to be known. He wanted the comfort of Spock’s presence and touch when he was unsteady and Spock’s continued faith in his abilities and leadership, but there was no future that he could see that would allow him to have both.

A stubborn tear wormed its way from the corner of his eye and down his cheek, and he wiped it away angrily. He stared out the window, repeating his mantra in time with his heart rate, willing himself into stillness: I am the bulkhead. I am the bulkhead. I am the bulkhead. But in the space between one heartbeat and the next, something in his mind clicked. Everything fell silent.

Elise had taught him to do that. 

Elise, who had lied to him. 

Elise, who he had loved, who had been his primary support during his days at the Academy, who had perhaps never been a therapist at all, had taught him how to use a mantra to calm his racing heart and had drilled into him that he could only protect his crew if he never revealed any of the weak parts of himself. And Bones, his doctor, one of the smartest men he had ever known, had been horrified to know that.

He had trusted Elise. But he trusted Bones more. Kirk shoved himself to his feet and wiped his hands over his face once more, clearing away any evidence of stray tears. He might have irrevocably damaged his relationship with Spock and set the bloodhound of Bones’s medical mind on his own trail, but there was one person on the ship that he could talk to about Tarsus and all that came after without gagging. Someone who already lived in the shadow. There was no horrific secret to reveal to Kevin, because he had been there. Kevin had already broken the glass wall of silence between them; there was nothing to stop Kirk from talking to him now. 

“Computer, where is Lieutenant Kevin Riley?” 

“Lieutenant Riley is in his quarters.” 

Kirk set off at a run. 

☆☆☆

For one long second, Kevin didn’t answer. Kirk stood outside his door, debating the merits of ringing the chime again or just overriding the lock, when it slid open. Kevin was framed by the doorway, dressed in his pajamas, a holovid playing on the wall behind him. 

“Oh!” He stared at Kirk. “Captain, I’m sorry--- I’m off duty today, I wasn’t prepared---”

“I’m not here as your captain,” Kirk said quietly. He peered behind Kevin: though there was another bed, his roommate was not present. “Can I come in?” Kevin stood aside to let him through, and the door slid shut behind him. The dialogue of the holovid continued quietly until Kevin tapped his padd and it paused. On the screen, an enormous lizard attacked some large metropolitan city. The sudden silence was heavy. 

“How are you doing?” Kirk asked, after a moment of quiet.

“Fine. How are you?” The answer was so robotic, so automatic and familiar, that Kirk swore for a second that Kevin’s response had come out of his own mouth. 

“Fine,” Kirk said, and they were quiet again. Kevin wouldn’t meet his eyes; his gaze instead flickered over his room. It was not exactly to regulations, but, then again, the lieutenants didn’t have Janice Rand or one of her minions coming into their quarters to cite them for uncleanliness.

“Look, Kev, I’m sorry to have to do this. But I have a couple of questions for you about…” Kirk trailed off. He wouldn’t say the name. 

Kevin swallowed, and the knobby bump of his Adam’s apple bobbed. “But…” 

“I know. I’m sorry.” They were silent again. When Kevin had been little, he would never shut up. He would babble to whoever was listening, or sitting watch; they couldn’t take him out to hunt for food with the older kids because he was unable to hush himself. But this older Kevin had run out of words. Maybe he used them all up on Tarsus.  

“Did you see a therapist when you got to the Academy?” 

Kevin’s eyebrows pulled together. “Yes,” he said eventually. “I was assigned one. But I was cleared for duty when I graduated, captain, it’s in my---” 

“Kevin, stop. I’m not here because of your conduct. Who was your counselor?” 

“Some lady,” he said, scrunching his nose. The gesture was so familiar to Kirk, even after all this time, that it hurt. “Siobhan Murphy.” 

“Can I borrow your console?” 

“Sure,” Kevin said uneasily, and Kirk sat himself in Kevin’s desk chair. It was not as comfortable as his, and his console was smaller, but it accepted his credentials and booted up with only a slight wheezing. He accessed the Starfleet personnel log and searched for Siobhan Murphy. 

Nothing came up. 

“Are you sure, Kevin?” 

“Yeah,” Kevin said. He was leaning over Kirk’s shoulder now, peering at the logs with childlike curiosity. “It stuck with me because Siobhan is--- was--- a family name for me. We were both Irish.”

Kirk removed her last name and searched all personnel. There were a handful of Siobhans across all of Starfleet, but as Kirk slowly scrolled past each one Kevin shook his head. 

“She’s not there,” he said. “None of them were her. What’s this about, Jimmy?” 

Kirk spun in Kevin’s desk chair, running his finger along the desk. He met Kevin’s eyes and felt the same protective tug in his chest that had pulled him as a kid. He didn’t want to bring these memories back to the surface. What if Kevin had been coping just fine, and it was only Kirk who was still under the shadow?

But there were dark circles under Kevin’s eyes, and the arms that stuck out of his baggy shirt were too thin. The bones of his hands were too prominent, and all of the skin that Kirk could see was covered in a fine, thin layer of downy hair. He had not looked, properly looked, at Kevin since he had seen the name on the personnel list at the start of the five-year mission. Elise had said to stay away from the other survivors; she had said that they were doing just fine, that they wouldn’t want the reminder of what had happened. But Kirk was looking at him now, and he did not see someone who was doing just fine. 

Kirk turned back to the console and typed Elise’s name into the personnel file. He turned back to Kevin as her holo appeared. Kevin’s face slackened in shock, and the little piece of Kirk that had still hoped that Bones was wrong, that Elise was who he thought she was, shriveled and died. 

“That’s her,” Kevin said. “That’s Siobhan.” He looked back to Kirk. 

“Her name is Elise Darling,” Kirk said. “Probably. And she was my counselor too.” Kevin’s eyes flicked back to Elise’s picture. 

“Red shirt?”

“Yes,” Kirk said. 

“Is that… is that normal?” 

“No,” Kirk said. “It’s not.” Kevin’s eyes were wide with confusion, his mouth twitched to the side as he chewed on the inside of his lip. Kirk meant to explain that Elise was not who she said she was, that he was starting to think that they had been manipulated into silence, but instead what he said was: “Kevin, are you okay?”

Kevin’s eyebrows pulled together, and his mouth opened like he was going to respond before he stopped himself. “I’m fine.” 

Kirk stood, pushing the chair back under the desk, and took a step towards him. “Kevin, are you okay?” 

“I’m sorry, Jimmy,” Kevin said, and his face started to crumple. “I’m trying, god, I really am, but I just feel---” He ringed the fingers of one hand around his wrist, thumb and middle finger overlapping to the second knuckle, rubbing it anxiously. “I’m so sorry, Jimmy, I know what Siobhan said---” 

As Kevin, one of the children that Kirk had made himself responsible for, fought back tears, Kirk thought he understood why Bones had lost his composure earlier. 

“You don’t have to apologize to me for anything, Kevin. What did she say?” 

“She said that she would clear me for duty, send me to the Enterprise , as long as I promised not to talk about what all happened to us,” Kevin said, and his face grew red and splotchy. “She said it was to protect you, that telling people that we were both there would hurt your career.” 

A white roar rose in Kirk’s ears, and he was distantly aware that his hands were shaking. “This woman,” he said, gesturing behind him to Elise’s smiling face, “told you that she would only clear you for duty if you stopped talking about Tarsus? And she told you that it was for me?” 

Kevin nodded miserably, and the motion of his head tipped tears over his eyelashes and down his cheeks. Kirk stared at him in abject horror as Kevin sniffed hard.

“I’m sorry, Jimmy, I didn’t mean to---” 

“Hush,” Kirk said harshly. He grabbed Kevin’s wrist, and yanked him forward. Kevin stumbled forward, and Kirk swept him into a hug. Though they were older and changed, Kirk put his hand against the back of Kevin’s head like he had when they were little, and Kevin bowed his head against Kirk’s shoulder, pressing his face into Kirk’s neck. Through his thin sleep shirt Kirk felt the angry lines of Kevin’s shoulder blades and the ridges of his spinal column. 

Kirk could feel the tears soaking the neckline of his shirt, but he didn’t care. He held onto Kevin and squeezed until Kevin’s arms came up around his back and held onto him like a lifeline. As Kevin cried into his shoulder, Kirk told him everything that he knew: that Elise had told him he had to hide how Tarsus still affected him, how he had given up honesty in the name of being a good leader, and what Bones had said that morning. After a small eternity, Kevin pulled away and sniffed again. Kirk slid his hands to his shoulders and gave him a gentle shake, trying to keep the blinding rage from showing on his face. He had thought that he was protecting Kevin by staying away. But Kevin was one of his kids, and no one was going to hurt his kids and get away with it as long as he was alive.

“You don’t owe me any apologies,” he said. “But I promise you, I’m going to figure this out.” 

“I don’t understand. What would have been the point of keeping us quiet? It’s not like what happened was a secret. Starfleet was there.” Kevin turned, wiping his eyes on the hem of his t-shirt. 

“I don’t know,” Kirk admitted. “I only learned that she wasn’t Medical two days ago, and that she had given me bogus advice an hour ago.”

“What does Mr. Spock think?”

Kirk couldn’t stop himself from grimacing. Kevin, eyes wide, said, “He doesn’t know.” 

“I---,” Kirk said, and choked. 

“You have to tell him,” Kevin said. He sat on the edge of his bed, and Kirk came to sit beside him. Kevin leaned against him, resting his head on his shoulder, and it was easier to breathe when he was looking at the blank wall in front of him instead of Kevin’s face. 

“I don’t want to,” Kirk said. “I don’t want to tell anyone. If I had it my way, no one would ever know that I was there.” He felt the clench of panic around his heart. Kevin sat up, and when Kirk turned to meet his eyes Kevin was giving him a look that he couldn’t interpret. 

“Well, I for one am glad that you were there,” Kevin said. “Because I would be dead if you hadn’t been. And the others would be too.” He rapped his knuckles against Kirk’s knee. “Did you know that I requested the Enterprise because I knew that you would be here?” 

“No,” Kirk said, throat dry.

“Well, it’s true.” Kevin swallowed. “I thought that… if you were able to keep the five of us alive when you were just a kid, I wanted to know what you could do as the captain of a starship.” Kirk’s throat tightened, and he felt tears prick his own eyes. They sat in silence for a few moments. 

“I’m going to figure out why we were given a security officer as a therapist,” Kirk said, “but in the meantime, you need to go to Medbay.” Kevin immediately stiffened. “I’m ordering you to submit yourself for psychological evaluation.” 

“Jimmy---”

“Nope, I’m your captain now.” He wrapped his hand around Kevin’s wrist, and it felt like his bones would break in his grasp. “I am so sorry that I didn’t check in with you before. And you might be able to hide this in uniform. But you need medical attention---”

“I’m fine, captain---”

“You are not,” Kirk said, and his words reminded him so much of what Bones had said to him that morning that he had a dizzying sense of deja vu. “You’re suffering. I don’t know how you made it this long without getting a physical, but you’re going to Medbay to be checked over and you’re going to talk about whatever you need to talk about. Forget whatever Elise--- Siobhan--- said to you. I outrank her.” Kevin shrank into himself, and Kirk tightened his grasp on his wrist.

“Someone did a very good job making sure we never talked about what happened, and I intend to figure out why,” Kirk said. “I’ll keep you in the loop, and I might need to know more about what she said to you, but in the meantime, you need help.” Kevin deflated, and the curve of his spine highlighted the sickly lines of his body.

“I just,” he started, and his voice was raspy. “I needed one thing that I could control. After everything.” Kirk released Kevin’s wrist and wrapped his arm around his shoulder instead. 

“I get it,” he said. “I really do. But you can’t live like this forever.” Kevin sighed. 

“I know,” Kevin said. “I’m so damn tired.” 

“Why don’t you go get dressed,” Kirk said. “I’m messaging Medbay and letting them know you’re coming in. Today.” 

“Yes, sir,” Kevin said miserably, but he got up and vanished into the bathroom. Kirk pulled his padd out of his pocket and opened his messages with Bones. He had missed several messages over the past hour.

>TheRealMcCoy: Where the hell are you

>TheRealMcCoy: Jim, I’m serious

>TheRealMcCoy: Where are you

>JTK: I had to talk to someone

>JTK: But I’m sending him to you now

Bones responded immediately. 

>TheRealMcCoy: ?? 

>JTK: Crewman with severe psychological distress. He’ll tell you more when he gets there

Kevin reappeared from the bathroom in black slacks and a thick sweater. Without his arms showing and with the bulk of the sweater’s knit disguising the lines of his shoulders, it was easy to see how he had hidden the evidence of his anguish. 

“Do you want me to come with you?” 

“Thank you, but no,” Kevin said. “I would rather do this by myself, I think.” 

“McCoy will message me if you don’t show,” Kirk said, and Kevin blanched. 

“Understood,” he said, and he followed Kirk to the door. Before Kirk opened it, he turned and pulled Kevin into one more hug. Kevin’s arms came around him more readily this time. 

“Thanks, Jimmy,” Kevin mumbled into his shoulder. Kirk patted him on the back and released him. 

“We’ll figure this out, and things will get better,” Kirk said. “For both of us.” Kevin nodded, and when they entered the hallway Kirk split off to head to his own quarters and Kevin continued steadily to the turbolift that would take him down to Medbay. 

Kirk watched him go, and when the turbolift doors opened to receive him, Kevin turned around one more time. His eyes met Kirk’s, and without a second’s hesitation he snapped a salute. Then the doors closed in front of him and he vanished. 

☆☆☆

Kirk was in his quarters, hunched over his console with the programming manual for the personnel directory open on his desktop, when his padd buzzed again.

>TheRealMcCoy: Jesus christ 

>TheRealMcCoy: I need you to either update the automated med reminders programming or bring it up with the brass to fix

>TheRealMcCoy: He got away with skipping his physical for three years because he made a weekly appointment and then rescheduled it for the next week. For 150 weeks. 

>TheRealMcCoy: This cannot happen. Ever again.

So Kevin had made it to Medbay and actually followed his orders. That was good. Kirk turned back to his computer screen, scanning through the file to try and understand the platform that the directory was built on. If he knew how it was structured, it would be easier to understand where information could be hidden, inaccessible from the outside. He needed to know where Elise had been between her time on the U.S.S. Maddox and her retirement. He knew that she had been at Starfleet Academy for part of it; he had seen her on campus nearly every day for consecutive years. But Kevin hadn’t graduated until after Elise’s so-called retirement date, and she had been operating under a different name. 

There wasn’t a file for any Siobhan Murphy in the directory, but he wondered if it would be listed in Elise’s own profile as a separate posting. He tapped different commands into the directory, but no new information appeared. 

Kirk’s padd buzzed again. 

>TheRealMcCoy: He’s getting set up with one of the specialists and his replicator logs are going to be monitored. 

>TheRealMcCoy: You did good sending him here, Jim 

>TheRealMcCoy: Please respond or I’m coming to find you 

Kirk hastily grabbed for his padd. 

>JTK: In my quarters. He and I had the same therapist at the academy 

>JTK: trying to dig up more information on her now

>TheRealMcCoy: good god 

>TheRealMcCoy: ok 

>TheRealMcCoy: have you talked to spock?

Kirk flipped his padd facedown and shoved it to the corner of his desk. His burning guilt at how he had treated his friend--- his husband --- that morning had dulled into a heavy weight that settled in his chest, over his heart and lungs. There was no sign that Spock had returned to the quarters after his abrupt departure this morning, but every time Kirk heard footsteps pass by in the corridor outside his heart leapt. He didn’t even know what he would say if Spock walked in.

Good evening, husband. Sorry I pulled rank on you in our marital quarters because I panicked when you touched me. Have you considered not being a telepath?

Hello, holder of my heart. I think I might have been manipulated as a teenager and young adult and now I’m realizing I’ve been operating for years under a set of rules that no one else understands. 

Mr. Spock, quick question: have you ever thought about what it would have been like to be on Tarsus IV during the genocide? 

The last made his gorge rise in his throat. No. He wasn’t ready for that. He shoved his guilt from this morning and the mournful bleakness he felt when he looked at his empty couch into a box in the back of his mind and focused back on the personnel directory. If there was more information about Elise Darling, he was going to find it. 

Six hours and a replicated protein bar later, Kirk had whittled down the shape of the directory to the boundary around Elise’s real profile, but he was no closer to understanding how to breach it than he was before. He understood that there was a gap where there should have been information, and he could almost understand the infrastructure of the software around it, but he wasn’t able to follow any loose tangents into the information itself. He rubbed his aching eyes and dragged his hands down his face. He had to work tomorrow, and he needed sleep. His mind hurt, his heart hurt, and the silence in his quarters after a night of sleeping near Spock was deafening. 

He showered, brushed his teeth, and heard Scotty puttering around in the quarters that used to be Spock’s. Where was Spock sleeping tonight? Crashing on Uhura’s couch was the most logical option, but Kirk could easily see him avoiding any scrutiny that sleeping elsewhere would bring and spending the night working in his lab. 

He wanted to message Spock and ask him to come back, but shame stayed his hand. What if Spock said no? What if he didn’t respond? What if he did return, and demanded an explanation for Kirk’s behavior that Kirk wasn’t ready to give? Kirk ditched his padd on his desk and dressed in pajamas. He set his alarm and sat on the edge of his bed. His room felt too large without another body in it. 

His gaze caught on his blanket, folded neatly on the back of the couch. Spock had slept under it the night before. Kirk was across the room in a heartbeat, sweeping the blanket up and pressing it to his face. It was faint, but it was there--- the earthy, spicy scent that Kirk had long ago come to associate with Spock. He inhaled deeply. The smell was a comfort to him. Even as a small part of him berated himself for his behavior, he laid down on his couch and draped the blanket over his body.

“Computer, lights to zero,” he said, and he fell fitfully into sleep, curled in the space where Spock had been.

#spirk fan fiction #my writing #kirk/spock fan fiction #k/s fan fiction #fake married #regulatory relations #star trek tos fan fiction #k/s

[spirk-trek]

Companion Fanzine | Pat Stall, 1978

#spirk #star trek #spock #fan art #star trek tos #star trek the original series #captain kirk #vintage #tos #portrait #leonard nimoy #william shatner #angst #fandom #fanzines #love #science fiction #lgbt #history #slash #drawing

[brookbee]

is this too niche

#explanation: #revolution meant that desi arnaz had to escape to USA #where desi met lucille ball #and they wanted to work/stay together which meant creation of I love Lucy #as well as desilu productions #which then produced Star Trek #and Star Trek fans are then credited for inventing slash fiction #Star Trek tos #the original series #spirk #trekposting

[celestialvoyeur]

💛💙SPIRK FIC REC - MY FAVOURITES💙💛

As a follow up to my recent post about how few fics make it to my favourites list, and how special they are to achieve that distinction, I decided to share my current list.

I’ve shared some of these individually in the past but here you’ll have them all together. 

If you've read any of these already then I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether you loved them as much as I did! 🥰

(NB: these are not listed in any order of preference. Mostly it’s the reverse order in which I read them)

Leave No Soul Behind by whochick Words: 258,951

AOS, AU Canon-Divergence. Spock, Kirk and the other valiant members of the Emergency Personnel Ambulance Service fight to save lives and turn the tide of the ongoing war against Nero and his fleet before it’s too late. Such a beautiful slow burn for Spock and Kirk.

Atlas by distractedKat Words: 135,529

AOS. Follow on from 2009, Kirk, Spock and the rest deal with the aftermath of Nero’s attack and rebuilding after the decimation of the ‘Fleet and Academy. An exciting tale with twists and turns involving black ops, bad-mirals, action, love and fierce loyalty.

The Lotus Eaters by aldora89 Words: 93,594

AOS. Stranded on a planet together, with multiple dangers and very little hope of rescue, Jim and Spock have no choice but to rely on each other to survive. Spectacular plot, amazing world building, fabulous original character and an epic slow burn Spirk love story!

With Your Feet on the Air and Your Head on the Ground by flippyspoon Words: 39,188 @flippyspoon

SNW. A phenomenal Spirk fic in which Kirk is stuck in Spock's mind while the crew work to find a way to retrieve his body. A wonderful getting to know you/falling for you hard tale. Wonderfully written and highly entertaining.

Evolution by Rhaegal (RhaegalKS) Words: 149,293

AOS. Covering the first year of their 5 year mission, this is totally flawless. The character voices are perfection, the prose spectacular. The whole thing plays like an AOS movie. It’s phenomenal.

Emotions by LadyRa Words: 35,569

TOS. Spock gets drugged on a shore leave and is overwhelmed with its effects. Kirk tries to pick up the pieces. A beautiful, and wonderfully grounded, story of realising how much they mean to each other.

And When the Bond Breaks by LadyRa Words: 24,631

TOS. Spock takes out a shuttle to investigate an anomaly and returns to an Enterprise that’s not his own. Time travel shenanigans with such emotional depth that it will traumatise you in the best way. Stunningly good!

All Our Tomorrows Come Today by flippyspoon Words: 18,156 @flippyspoon

SNW. A newly introduced Jim and Spock accidentally get a glimpse into the future and see what they’re going to be to each other (a.k.a. Spirk’s Greatest Hits). A stunningly told story about finding the great love of your life. 

I Won't Make That Mistake Again by Moreta1848 Words: 69,402 @jennelikejennay

SNW/TOS. An epic story detailing Spock and Kirk’s love throughout their lives, beginning from their meeting on Pike’s Enterprise (SNW) and continuing on to an eventual  Generations fix-it happy ending. Wonderful!

No Going Back, No Before by spirkme Words: 78,486 @spirkme915

SNW/TOS. Timeline shenanigans, spies, twists & turns, pining, angst, sacrifice and so so much love!

The 1,000 Hour Sleep by spqr Words: 27,227

SNW. Jim’s been infected with a pathogen that means he can’t sleep, but it he doesn’t he’ll die. Cue Spock and his Vulcan telepathy helping Jim to achieve the sleep he needs, while they get to know each other within their shared mindscapes. A sweet and exciting story about falling in love and overcoming your own inner demons.

First Best Destiny by Ophelia_j Words: 387,733

TOS/TNG. Such a very special fic. Epic in its scope, it covers the entire timeline of Spirk from their very first meeting through to a  clever and satisfying Generations fix-it ending. It provides extra scenes, additional dialogue and internal monologues to expand on existing canon in a really compelling and effective way. Truly this is my new TOS canon.

The Steadfastness of Stars by itsnatalie Words: 61,566

AOS. After Beyond, The crew investigate sudden climate change on a frozen planet and find more than they bargained for. The perfect mix of great plot, fun original characters, action, mystery, world building and deep deep love.

Let Forever Be by gunstreet Words: 43,446 @gunstreet

TOS. A really compelling character study of James T. Kirk. An excellent companion piece to City on the Edge of Forever. Exploring what Jim and Spock got up to, and all they had to overcome, while trying to find Bones and their way back home.

Time After Time by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Words: 138,921

SNW. Kirk spends a 6 month rotation on the Enterprise as part of his command training. OK, if there’s a favourite of my favourites then this may be it. It’s such a stunning version of their love story, with a beautifully constructed plot. It runs the emotional gamut from moments that will have you laughing out loud to moments that will have you in floods of tears. 

milk and honey by spaceisgay (ChancellorGriffin) Words: 28,651

SNW. Kirk and Spock meet for the first time when they wake up in a prison cell together. A really fun, and extremely clever, version of the ‘aliens made them do it’ trope. It’s intriguing and funny with a real depth of feeling throughout.

The Promised Land by gunstreet Words: 58,260 @gunstreet

TOS. A story that explores the time Jim and Spock spent apart between the end of the 5 year mission and TMP. It’s a beautiful story of reunion and renewal of love. Sometimes achingly sad, but it’s worth it for the happy ending.

Again, if you've read any of these already then I'd love to hear your thoughts on whether you loved them as much as I did! 🥰

#star trek #spirk #k/s #kirk/spock #spock #james t kirk #k/s fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic rec #star trek tos #star trek aos #star trek snw #aos spirk #tos spirk #snw spirk

[telldaily]

Fic Rec: For the Mission by yeaka

Context:

Jim and Spock had to role play as master and pet to convince a new race to ally with the Federation.

And they must put on a show? an exhibition involving a lap dance.

Spock is really OP here.

#star trek #star trek tos #spock #spirk #jim kirk #tos #tos spirk #james t kirk #k/s fanfic #fan fiction

[trek-tracks]

Someone on Discord asked for a link to a specific fic, which I remembered was in an older, non-AO3 archive that I couldn’t recall the name of. So I Googled this in incognito mode and…

…Bones fans, are we okay??

#star trek #star trek tos #leonard mccoy #bones mccoy #star trek aos #star trek fanfiction #Star Trek fanfic #Star Trek fic #fanfiction #fan fiction

[fely-v]

These drawings are something like art for fan fiction

The idea is as follows

A humaonid of the Gigen race named Uko arrives on the ship to study new species and exchange knowledge and culture. He is smart, polite, calm enough and curious. He is placed under the authority of the head of the scientific department, Mr. Spock, with whom he surprisingly quickly found a common language. In addition to their common passion for science, they were also brought closer by their relationship with the ambassadors, who are their fathers, whose resistance can be quite problematic. Kirk watches with pleasure as Spock enthusiastically chats with his new friend. However, McCoy remains not thrilled with such changes, because now Spock entirely prefers the company of Uko to the doctor's witticisms and pickings. The alien is a strong opponent in terms of intelligence. He follows Spock closely. McCoy, realizing that he was left out of work, decides to retreat, despite the unsightly jealousy and a sense of inferiority.

However, everything changes when Uko suddenly begins to show an increased interest in the path of medicine, including Dr. McCoy

#star trek #st: tos #leonard mccoy #dr mccoy #spock #tos spock #bones mccoy #james kirk #spones #star trek oc #sketches of fan fiction #fan fiction #sketch #s'chn t'gai spock

[spockbag]

As people around me are recapping their 2023 I’m wondering… how can I tell them I’ve spent the whole year writing fanfic and smut for a 50 year old TV show… y’know like a normal person would. -Or do I just keep it a secret until I’m on my death bed then give everyone irl the link to my magnum opus ??

#fic writers #help me #spirk #star trek #star trek tos #fanfic #star trek fan fiction

[ensignsimp]

This Blog is Made Possible by Viewers Like You, THANK YOU!

Computer, how do you give someone a hug on the internet?

I just woke up to a huge bombardment of requests and asks! And I love it! It makes me so happy! I'm so glad so many of you were able to find me again and I appreciate your support as I rebuild my page! Thank you all so much!

#star trek #star trek x reader #star trek x reader requests #star trek x readers #star trek headcanons #star trek headcanon #star trek fan fiction #requests open #thanks for the ask! #thank you #love you guys #ensignsimp blog #ensignsimp #ensign simp #star trek tos #star trek tng #star trek ds9 #star trek voyager #content requisitions open

[alltheverses]

Do you like Star Trek?

Do you like Science Fiction?

Do you like fannish culture and history?

Do you like learning about history in unique ways?

Now is a GREAT time to come check out Galactic Journey. This Thursday, April 6th 2023, is the start of reruns of the entire second season of Star Trek The Original Series.

Watch the episodes as they would have been seen in 1968, complete with advertisements, no cuts, and unedited effects! The episodes air twice over Discord, to cover different timezones. Each week before the episode you can also hear readings from fanzines and articles that would have just come out.

There's dedicated zones to discuss the episodes from the perspective of '68, as if we are all gathered for a watch party or calling in over the home phone as we see the characters face new and exciting dangers with impressive special effects!

It should be noted that while people get into the world of reenactment and exploring history, it is still a space for everyone who wants to participate in good faith. Bigotry is not tolerated. Every era has had people who made space to respect and care about each other, and that's the energy we try to foster among ourselves.

You can read reviews of all the previous episodes over at Galactic Journey, along with reviews of other SF&F media. Find out what was going on in the world 55 years ago with articles, a radio station, and a weekly news video.

This fall season 3 will air, so now is the perfect time to catch up!

Discord link:

#star trek #science fiction #star trek tos #star trek the original series #galactic journey #1968 #fan culture #fan history #fanzine #portal 55 #scifi #sci-fi #the original series #history #historical reenactment

[noratheelk]

Okay, it just occurred to me that other people might be interested in my Star Trek fan fiction master list. And I want to be clear, master list is probably not the right term, it’s a collection of links to ao3 fics in a google document.

I need to tell you my taste in fan fiction so you can see if you’ll enjoy the fics I’ve collected. My taste is mostly femslash because I’m gay and slash fics aren’t usually as interesting to me. I also don’t like and sexual content. So it’s almost all general audience gay fluff, we got Deanna Troi x Beverly Crusher, fem spirk, and classic spirk. We also have some Lower Decks shenanigans and miscellaneous fics. I’ll include the master list as a pdf

#star trek #spock #star trek the original series #mr spock #st tos #spirk #captain kirk #jim kirk #star trek the next generation #st tng #star trek tos #beverly crusher #dr crusher #beverly crusher is bisexual #star trek lower decks #tos spock #james kirk #deanna troi #fan fiction #fanfic #fanfic list

[indeedcaptain]

Spirktober 2023, day 23: Married

HELLO HERE IS THE LAST CHAPTER OF ALL I WANT FOR CHRISTMAS! Fluff, kisses, schmoop, weddings, etc.

Also posted on AO3 here!

☆☆☆

“James Kirk, you are not getting married in sweatpants.” Winona stood, aghast and agape, in the middle of the kitchen. 

“Mom, we’re on shore leave. I didn’t even bring a uniform home, let alone a dress uniform. And they’re joggers.” 

“Absolutely not. I forbid it. Spock’s parents are going to think that you were raised in a barn.” 

“This is a farm! You did raise me in a barn!” 

Winona threw up her hands and turned her back on him in disgust, peering out through the window over the sink to see how George and Lieutenant Sulu were faring with the barn in question. Nyota sidled in beside him and watched James and his mother square off in the kitchen. 

“What did you intend to wear, Spock?” 

Spock crossed his arms over his chest. James’s t-shirt stretched across his shoulders. “My uniform.” 

She side-eyed him. “You brought your uniform on shore leave?”

“It is logical to be prepared,” he said stiffly. He did not add on the fact that he had not even considered the idea that he would have confessed to his feelings for the captain, let alone acted on, consummated, and committed permanently to those feelings, and brought the uniform in the case that he had to return to San Francisco earlier than planned to avoid discussing them at all. 

“That won’t do,” she said. Louder, she said, “Winona, I’ll take them out to get suits.”

“Nyota, as far as I can tell, you are the only sensible person on the whole crew,” Winona said, and James rolled his eyes. 

Nyota recruited McCoy to assist, shepherded James and Spock into the backseat of George’s truck, and drove them into downtown Riverside with only minimal grumbling from James.

☆☆☆

Suit shopping was a more complicated affair than Spock had imagined. He had not known that there was a human tradition about not seeing one’s future spouse in their wedding garments ahead of time, so Nyota had sent James and McCoy to one store before dragging them to another. He had allowed James to steer much of the planning process, as there had not been very much to plan, and now that he was being asked for his opinion he found that he did not know what he wanted. 

The events of the day, week, month had deviated so drastically from what he could have possibly imagined that he was having a difficult time imagining what came next. He could picture James in a suit easily: dashing, handsome, smiling, an image from several diplomatic missions that he had carefully ensconced in his memory. But he was unable to picture himself in the same attire. Despite the time they had spent over the past month talking, clearly communicating expectations and desires and plans for their shared future, he could not imagine himself in a human suit at the end of the aisle. Somewhere, deep in his mind, the remnant echoes of T’Pring’s disdain and her cruelty during the kal-if-fee iced over his joy.

He very much wanted to be married. He was less sure of how to want to have a wedding.

After the third suit Nyota brought to him evoked no reaction, she took the garment from his hands, laid it down, and sat down next to him. 

“This isn’t working for you,” she said. She sat close enough that he could feel the warmth of her arm against his. 

“I have never before thought about a wedding,” he said. “A human wedding was never an option for me.” She looped her arm through his and clasped her hands together. 

“What are you looking forward to most?” She asked. 

“Our bonding,” he said immediately. This answer he knew. “James has agreed to a mating bond--- I believe he desires it as much as I do. That is what I look forward to most.”

“That sounds beautiful, Spock,” she said quietly, and she laid her head on his shoulder. “Wait!” She pulled out her padd and searched for something. “I have a better idea. No suits.” She stood abruptly, hung the abandoned suit on the return rack and strode from the store. Spock followed her, bemused, as she called a thank-you to the clerk and flung the door open. 

Nyota followed the map on her padd until they arrived at a small, brick-fronted building. There was no discernable signage, but Nyota pushed the door open. There was a melodic tinkle from a bell above, and they stepped into a dusty room. 

There was only one person in the entirety of the store, and they sat on a stool behind the register, shrouded in the dim light. It wasn’t until Spock and Nyota approached and the shopkeeper turned that Spock was able to see that they were not human either, but Andorian. 

The woman smiled, and as she sat up straighter her antennae became more apparent. “Welcome to Secondhand Silks,” she said. Her face was lined with wrinkles, and her hands were dappled with dark blue age spots. “Is there anything I can help you find?” 

“Yes,” Nyota said confidently. “Anything from Vulcan?” The woman smiled, eyes and antennae flicking to Spock. “Of course,” she said, and she led them deeper into the store. 

☆☆☆

It was not logical to be nervous, especially in front of Nyota, and yet he felt a twinge of something in his abdomen as he dressed out of the changing room to face her and the mirror. 

Her eyes went wide. “You look beautiful,” she whispered, and she came to stand next to him as he beheld himself in the mirror. 

This garment was right, in a way that the suits had not been. It was traditionally Vulcan, in a way that the suits were not. It was deep green, and the front was beaded, and the collar was asymmetrical and created a line from his neck down the left side of his torso. Tails flowed down his thighs and draped against the trousers, which were the same deep green. It fit him as if it had been made for him.

“I would like this,” he said. “This is right.” 

“Yes,” Nyota said affectionately. “It is.” 

The Andorian woman wrapped it up and Nyota purchased it for him (“it’s a wedding gift, Spock, don’t fight me on this”) and by the time they met McCoy and James back at the truck the sense of overwhelm that had threatened him earlier was gone.  

☆☆☆

Apparently humans were not supposed to see each other the night before their weddings either, which Spock did not appreciate, but he had acquiesced when his mother and Winona teamed up to assert that it was important. For the first time since his first night in Iowa he laid in the bed in the guest room by himself. 

So much had changed since that first night. He remembered the way James had almost reached for him, and had not--- they had not been in the habit of touching each other then. He had been so prepared to keep his hands clasped behind his back for the entirety of the trip, to call James ‘captain’ the entire time, in order to maintain both his professional decorum and the privacy that had hidden his true feelings from James. And all of those shields were gone now. He was allowed to touch James and be touched, to accept the human comforts he had never expected to be offered, and he had discovered an entirely new side of James in the process: one that would allow himself to be cared for by Spock, held and cherished. 

He would accept one night apart in exchange for the promise of sharing a bed with James, wherever they may go, for the rest of their lives. 

☆☆☆

Some feat of engineering had been accomplished in the barn by George and Montgomery Scott, and when Spock walked in with his parents it was as though he had walked into a cloud of warmth and light. String lights swung between the ceiling beams. Amanda and Sarek walked one step ahead of him, hands gently in the ozh’esta, and he followed them: the Vulcan tradition symbolizing how a parent leads their child on a path of logic. As they entered, his friends stood to look at them, and over Sarek and Amanda’s shoulders he could see their smiles. 

They progressed down the aisle. His parents stepped to the side as they reached the front row of the folding chairs that George and Winona had hustled from somewhere, and he bent to accept a kiss on the cheek from his mother before continuing forward to stand beneath the chuppah that his mother had brought from Vulcan. It was the same one that she had used at her own wedding, and it had crossed over thousands and thousands of lightyears over thirty years to be hung in James’s parents’ barn today. Spock thought it was fitting for two such as they, who would spend more time on a spaceship together than they did on any single planet, to be married beneath such a spacefaring fabric.

Then James entered, and all other thoughts vanished. He wore a suit, and he was beautiful. He was accompanied by his parents, and he was beautiful. There was nothing else in the room but James, and the warm golden glow of his eyes and his smile and his hair, and he was beautiful. He glanced around at their friends, and he smiled at them as he saw them all, and then his gaze landed on Spock, waiting for him.

There you are, his eyes said. I’ve been looking for you. He walked with his parents down the aisle, and he kissed his mother and shook his father’s hand and kissed him too before depositing them in the chairs next to Spock’s own parents, and then he turned to meet Spock beneath the chuppah. 

“James,” Spock said quietly, taking his hand. “You are exquisite.”

“You look amazing,” James breathed. “I can’t believe we’re here.” Spock pulled him closer until they were chest-to-chest and wrapped one arm around James’s waist. 

“Are you ready, ashayam?” 

“Hell yes,” James said, and Spock heard a few of their friends laugh at his characteristic eagerness. Spock intertwined their fingers. 

“Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched. We meet at the appointed place,” Spock said, and lifted his hand to James’s face. 

James breathed in deeply. “Parted from me and never parted, never and always touching and touched. I await you.” He tilted his head, allowing Spock access to his psi-points. 

Pressing slightly into James’s mind, Spock said, “I would bond with thee, ever, and always touching and touched.”

He felt James’s mental agreement even before James whispered the words back to him, and then they were both gone. 

Golden and midnight blue, twisting together, shimmering into a thousand million sparks until they were both standing before each other, no longer in the barn or on Earth but somewhere for just them. James looked around them. “It’s not usually so clear,” he said in wonder. 

“No,” Spock said, watching him, feeling James’s excitement through the air between them. “This is deeper than we have gone before.” 

“Dirty,” James said conversationally, and took Spock’s hand.  

“Are you prepared, James?” Spock asked. 

“I think I’ve been ready for this for a long time. I knew from the moment we met that you were important to me, and every day since then has just confirmed what I already knew.” He squeezed Spock’s hand. “Spock, I’m a better man when you are with me. Even before this trip, I would have done anything to keep you at my side. All I want for the rest of my life is for us to explore together.”

Spock squeezed his hand in return. “James, you have shown me the best of humanity, even when I could not accept it in myself. It was serving alongside you that I finally understood where I fit in the universe. There was and is nothing that could take me from you.”

James’s eyes shone with warmth and tears. “Bond us, Spock.” 

Spock raised his other hand to James’s face and placed his fingers on his psi points. “This may be uncomfortable,” he said. “Psi-null individuals frequently find deeper psychic connection to be difficult at first.” 

“I trust you,” James said, and he kept his eyes on Spock’s as Spock said, “Ever and always---” 

But he did not have time to finish the sentence before James’s mind was opening to accept him. The warmth of James, his optimism and joy, his love and affection and faith, flooded outwards, basking him in sunlight. 

“Touching and touched,” James said, and he raised a hand to Spock’s psi-points, mirroring the gesture on Spock’s face. As his fingers brushed the psi-points, the world around them exploded in light.

☆☆☆

For one second, Spock became aware of himself and James, still pressed against each other. His hands were both on James’s face, and as their friends and family watched James lifted his hand to Spock’s cheekbone. 

“Touching and touched,” he said, and his fingers found Spock’s psi-points. Psychic energy cracked between them, sparking. Then Spock’s hands, still around James’s face, began to glow. The glow, green like Vulcan blood, grew from his hands and flowed down his forearms to his shoulders, up to his own face and James’s hand. When they were both covered in the green glimmer, Spock felt it erupt between them: a permanent mental bond, deeper than anything he had ever felt. It was deeper than the childhood bond he had shared with T’Pring; it dove deeper into his mind than any healer or elder ever had; and it was anchored deeper within him than even his familial bonds with his parents. James’s eyes widened, reflecting the glow of the psychic energy. 

In Spock’s mind he felt every memory they shared flowing down the bond: the first day they met on the Enterprise, every away mission, every time they had put their bodies in between the other’s and danger, every vigil sat in Medbay, chess matches and meals, late nights of paperwork and condolence letters and a thousand of James’s easy smiles. Friends, brothers in arms, lovers. 

“T’hy’la,” Spock whispered, and James surged forward to kiss him. Under the chuppah, in front of their friends and family, James held his face in both his hands and kissed him as boldly as if they had been alone. Spock slid his hands into James’s hair and around his waist and kissed him back as the people who loved them most cheered. 

☆☆☆

The Kirk family farmhouse had never been so full of laughter and merriment as it was on that day. James remained glued to Spock’s side, with a glass of champagne in one hand and Spock’s hand in the other, basking in the celebration. Joanna hung off his waist and had demanded an introduction to Spock, and she had offered a terrible but endearing imitation of the ta’al and said that she liked his eyebrows.  

“I tried to teach her on the train ride up,” McCoy said gruffly, watching his daughter wind through the legs of the adults but somehow always manage to locate James. “Fine motor skills are still developing.” 

“Her attempt is deeply appreciated, doctor,” Spock said. “It was considerate of you.” 

“Yeah, well,” McCoy said. Spock waited, but the rest of the sentence was not forthcoming. He stood next to Spock and watched Nyota and Christine charm James’s parents and catch up with Captain Pike.

“Funny about them too,” he said eventually. “I told Christine not to pine after the bridge crew, Lord knows the lot of you are heartbreakers, but maybe I was wrong.” He glanced at Spock sideways. “Maybe I was wrong about all of you.” 

At another point, Captain Pike and Number One sidled up to Spock, and Una tapped her glass against his. 

“So this was the time-sensitive assignment Kirk pulled you off to when you bailed on me? Being wooed?” 

“It seems so, captain,” Spock said. “My apologies. I had intended to assist with your cadets, but James has a habit of deconstructing my schedules.” 

“No apologies necessary,” Pike said. He and Spock watched James, who had begrudgingly been separated from Spock to have a conversation with Sarek and Amanda across the room. Sarek had yet to indicate his approval or disapproval, but Amanda was beaming at him, taking both his hands in her own. “I can’t think of a single person who would be better for you, Spock. You balance each other.” 

“Thank you, captain,” Spock said, and he meant it. 

Over the course of the evening, their friends floated through the house and out to taxis that would take them to their hotels in Riverside proper. Winona had offered Sam’s bedroom to McCoy and his daughter with only a few tears shed, and McCoy had embraced her for it. Amanda and Sarek stayed in the guest bedroom, Spock rejoined James in his bedroom, and Nyota and Christine had been installed on the pullout couch in the living room. 

James sprawled on his bed, watching Spock carefully remove and fold his wedding garments. “I have one more thing for you,” he said, and he reached into the top drawer of his bedside table. 

“Is it more lubricant? That bottle must be nearly empty,” Spock said, placing his wedding garments onto the dresser and coming to lay beside James on the bed. James rolled his eyes at him and pulled out a small, black, velvet box. 

“Har, har,” he said. “No, it’s something else. I wasn’t sure, culturally, if this would work for you, but once I thought about it… I had to ask.” 

“I would appreciate anything you give me, James,” Spock said, but he beheld the small box curiously. “What is it?” 

James opened the box and held it out to him. Within were two metal bands. They were a silver-blue--- Spock estimated tritanium--- with a different metal inset in the middle that he could not identify by sight. 

“Wedding bands,” Spock said softly. “You want--- to display that we are married?” 

“Only if that’s alright with you,” James said. He pulled one out, with a slightly smaller diameter than the other. “If you want it, this is for you. Do Vulcans wear wedding rings?” 

“Vulcans do not,” Spock said, and before the flash of disappointment that he felt though the bond could appear on James’s face, he continued, “But I do.” He offered his hand to James, whose smile was as soft and loving as anything Spock had ever seen. James took his hand and slid the ring onto Spock’s finger. 

“I ordered these after the first night you slept in my bed,” James said quietly, running his finger over the band on Spock’s. “They’re tritanium--- like the Enterprise--- and meteorite. I always thought meteorites were a little romantic… that even though so much of space is just a vacuum, a tiny piece of something landed on a little planet somewhere and was noticed.” He looked up at Spock before looking down again, blushing slightly. “Like us. Even though we’re from different planets, we still found each other.” 

“James,” Spock said softly, and reached out to brush his other hand across his cheek. “Do not be embarrassed. I would be honored to wear your ring.” He pulled the other band out of the box and lifted James’s hand.

James’s breath caught in his throat as Spock slid the ring onto his finger. “You ordered these the night after we slept together for the first time?” Spock asked.

“Yes,” James whispered, and he threaded their fingers together so their rings clicked together gently. Spock pulled James to him and caught his lips with his own before pulling James down to lay on his chest. James laid his hand over Spock’s ribs, his ring laying over his heartbeat. 

“I still can’t believe you agreed to come with me,” James sighed after a few minutes, and drummed his fingers against Spock’s ribs. “You might have stayed in San Francisco and I would still be pining after you and all of this would be a distant dream.” 

“I never would have stayed,” Spock said. “The decision was made as soon as I saw you standing at my door. James, I would have followed you wherever you had asked.”

James propped himself up on his elbow, eyes searching Spock’s face. “Honestly?” 

“Honestly, captain,” Spock said. James laid back down. Spock pressed a kiss to the top of James’s head, just as James had to him on the first night they made love. 

“You haven’t called me captain in weeks,” James said. “I almost missed it.” 

“I will call you captain as frequently as you would like,” Spock said. “Captain.” 

“It’s our wedding day, Spock. Call me ‘husband’ or something.” 

“As you wish, Captain Husband.” 

As James’s laughter rumbled against his chest, James’s soft hair brushing the underside of his jaw, and James’s hand with its wedding band resting possessively against his heart, Spock closed his eyes. As he fell asleep with his bondmate in his arms and a wedding ring on his finger, he thought that he was going to be forever grateful for every plan of his that James had ever disrupted, because every disruption had led him here. 

#spock #spirk #kirk #tos #my writing #spirktober2023 #spirktober #k/s #kirk/spock #kirk/spock fan fic #k/s fan fic #space husbands #star trek fan fiction

[spirk-trek]

Consort Fanzine | Dorothy Laoang, 1986

#spirk #star trek #spock #fan art #star trek tos #star trek the original series #captain kirk #vintage #the kiss #edvard munch #hurt/comfort #the original series #fandom #fanzines #1980s #drawing #sketch #k/s #the premise #sci fi #science fiction #queer history #art

[trash-with-standards]

This is a very old work at this point, but yesterday I spent a while reworking and editing for a while. If anyone is interested in reading, chapter 2 is the official rewrite of the original story.

The rewrite fixes spelling and grammatical errors as well as better wording choices.

#writing #fanfic #fan fiction #ao3 #Star Trek #star trek aos #star trek tos #spones #aos spones #tos spones #originally written for aos #rewritten with tos in mind #kirk is a shit #*affectionate*

[celestialvoyeur]

"Jim stared at it. If Spock’s robe was elegant, Jim's could be better described as extravagant. The entire thing was shiny gold cloth, weighted down with heavy black embroidery dotted with tiny green crystals on the sleeves. The shoulders were built out slightly, a common Vulcan fashion that made them look even more intimidating than usual. There was also a gold headpiece, less a crown than a collection of linked chains, with a large green stone in the middle."

“For a final touch, he brushed a little gold powder on Jim’s cheekbones… Jim . . . looked like a sun god.”

From that fabulous fic ‘Logic and Prejudice’ by @jennelikejennay 🥰

#Vulcan robes #bonding ceremony #star trek #spirk #spock #james t kirk #k/s #kirk/spock #k/s fanfic #fan fiction #fanfic #fan fic rec #star trek fanart #spirk fanart #spirk art #spirkart #star trek tos fanart #tos kirk