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[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Thirty

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Thirty: Question of Klingons

Summary: A crisis means a change in politics, and not everybody is on baord.

Mouse Note: We're down to one final movie!

            “What are we doing here?” wondered Kirk.

            Everything had been business as usual for quite some time, in space and in the Federation, so to be called into a Starfleet briefing was unusual. Additionally, there were so many higher-ups and experts from various fields of Starfleet that this had to be important.

            “Maybe they’re throwing us a retirement party,” said Bones.

            “That suits me,” said Scotty. “I just bought a boat.”

            “As if you could leave the Enterprise,” said (Y/N).

            “This had better be good,” said Uhura. “I’m supposed to be chairing a seminar at the Academy.”

            “I was hosting a psychic meditation session,” said (Y/N), nodding in understanding.

            “Captain, isn’t this just for top brass?” said Chekov, looking around at the people present at the meeting. (He, too, was top brass, but he would always be the “baby” of the group).

            “If we’re all here, where’s Sulu?” said Bones.

            “Captain Sulu,” reminded Kirk. “On assignment.” He looked around. “Where’s Spock?”

            “Yeah, where’s your pointy-eared husband?” said Bones, looking at (Y/N).

            “He’s doing whatever job has been asked of him at the moment,” said (Y/N). They weren’t particularly worried since Spock hadn’t said he would meet with the rest of the crew. If he had and didn’t show up, then (Y/N) would begin to be concerned.

            “Ahem.” Everyone looked to the stand at the top of the table where a woman, the aide-de-camp, was about to speak. “This briefing is classified,” she said, impressing the importance of that knowledge onto them. “Officers, the C-in-C.”

            Everyone stood as the Commander-in-Chief of Starfleet entered the room. He nodded to them as he stood at the podium.

            “As you were,” said the C-in-C. Everyone sat. “To break this information down succinctly, the Klingon Empire has roughly fifty years of life left to it.”

            Everyone was disciplined enough to remain silent, but the ripples of curiosity, fear, worry, and some joy were clear enough to (Y/N)’s empathic sense.

            The C-in-C continued, “For full details, I’m turning this briefing over to the Federation Special Envoy.” He motioned to the side, and someone else stepped up to the podium.

            Oh, there’s my husband, thought (Y/N).

            The rest of the Enterprise crew stared.

            Spock stood at the podium. “Good morning,” he addressed the meeting room. “Two months ago, a Federation starship monitored an explosion on the Klingon moon Praxis. We believe it was caused by over-mining and insufficient safety precautions. The moon’s decimation means a deadly pollution of their ozone. They will have depleted their supply of oxygen in approximately fifty Earth years.”

            “That’s not any of the data I saw,” sneered a man to someone beside him.

            They should try listening before speaking, thought (Y/N).

            “Due to their enormous military budget, the Klingon economy does not have the resources with which to combat this catastrophe,” continued Spock, calmly delivering the information. “Last month, at the behest of the Vulcan Ambassadors—”

            I wonder how Sarek is doing, thought (Y/N).

            “—I opened a dialogue with Gorkon, Chancellor of the Klingon High Council. He proposes to commence negotiations at once.”

            “Negotiations for what?” demanded Cartwright, sitting on the left of the podium.

            “The dismantling of our space stations and starbases along the Neutral Zone, an end to almost seventy years of unremitting hostility, which the Klingons can no longer afford,” replied Spock.

            (Y/N) raised a brow in surprise. Are we actually moving forward to bring the Klingons into the Federation? It would be a massive change, but it could bring more peace the galaxy…The possibilities were incredible if the bad blood could be overcome.

            “Are we talking about mothballing the Starfleet?” said Cartwright, emotions sharp and aggressive.

            “I’m sure that our exploration and scientific programs would be unaffected, Captain, but—”

            “I must protest,” said Cartwright, interrupting the C-in-C. “To offer the Klingons safe haven within Federation space is suicide. Klingons would become the alien trash of the galaxy.”

            Our issues were over their desire for more conquering and our desire to let planets join together in democracy. That is racism, thought (Y/N), lacing their fingers as they regarded Cartwright carefully.

            “And if we dismantle the fleet, we’d be defenseless before an aggressive species with a foothold on our territory. The opportunity here is to bring them to their knees. Then we’ll be in a far better position to dictate terms,” said Cartwright.

            “Sir,” said Kirk.

            “Captain Kirk?” prompted the C-in-C.

            “The Klingons have never been trustworthy,” said Kirk firmly, though grief floated in his aura. The loss of his son weighed heavy in this moment. “I am forced to agree with Admiral Cartwright. This is a terrifying idea.”

            “I disagree,” said (Y/N) calmly. All eyes landed on them, but (Y/N) remained unfazed. “I believe helping the Klingons is the correct course of action. To begin with, there are innocent children that will suffer if we do not act. No amount of military strategy is worth that.”

            They felt and saw the shifts of discomfort as they called out Cartwright’s harsh stance. Even Kirk, who disliked the Klingons and would forever morn his son, was chastened by (Y/N)’s words. He didn’t want children to suffer. He had kindness still in his heart.

            “And I believe that now is a chance to move forward from decades of tension,” continued (Y/N) firmly. “We should offer an olive branch and show that we are ready to bring peace instead of trying to ‘beat them down’ to dictate terms. That is not what the Federation stands for. It stands for mutual benefit of planets in democracy. To weaken another people when we have the ability to help goes against all that it should stand for. It is time to move forward and demonstrate we are ready to forge a future of friendship instead of the malice that has colored our relations in the past.”

            Spock would never tire of seeing (Y/N) plainly put facts before people (and if he had a chance before the mission began, he was going to show them how attractive he thought them). They knew precisely what needed to be said to sway people more to the side of logic for the future. Continuing the tensions between Klingons and Federation would not serve either people. The future needed change, even if it frightened people to take a chance. It was logical for them to evolve.

            “It is imperative that we act now to support the Gorkon initiative,” said Spock, speaking with the momentum provided by (Y/N)’s speech. “Lest more conservative elements persuade his Empire that it is better to attempt a military solution and die fighting.”

            “You, Captain Kirk, are to be our first olive branch,” said the C-in-C.

            Kirk recoiled slightly, and (Y/N) felt the pricks of his hot anger wash over their arms.

    ��       Not the best choice in terms of emotions unless he works through them… thought (Y/N). They glanced around at the other auras. Though not many are any better.

            “We have volunteered to rendezvous with the Klingon vessel which is bringing Chancellor Gorkon to Earth and to escort him safely through Federation space,” said Spock.

            “Me?” repeated Kirk, still in shock and frustrated.

            “Well, there are Klingons who feel the same way about the peace treaty as yourself and Admiral Cartwright,” said the C-in-C. “But they’ll think twice about attacking the Enterprise under your command.”

            Kirk is quite distinguished, thought (Y/N). As long as he did his job and didn’t incite any incidents—which didn’t happen often but was possible if you looked at their track record—this could go well.

            “I have personally vouched for you in this matter, Captain,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) felt Kirk’s emotions flare hot. Maybe the Klingons aren’t the ones in danger. They winced slightly.

            “You…have personally…vouched?” repeated Kirk slowly.

            “You will extend Chancellor Gorkon full diplomatic courtesy, Captain Kirk,” instructed the C-in-C.

            “But a full ambassador would be better equipped,” suggested Kirk.

            “Captain (L/N) will act as an ambassador due to their empathic qualifications,” said the C-in-C.

            (Y/N) straightened in their chair and nodded. They felt their fellow crew members’ eyes on them.

            “Our full ambassadors are in council here due to this matter.” The C-in-C stood, and the officers followed suit. “If there’s no further business, I wish you and your crew godspeed. Thank you, officers. I remind you this meeting is classified.”

            He turned and walked out of the briefing room. People began to file out of the room as well while the Enterprise crew circled up. However, Cartwright—emotions still wrought with negativity—walked directly to Kirk.

            “I don’t know whether to congratulate you or not, Jim,” said Cartwright. That’s all he said, sending Kirk’s own emotions into more negative directions, before walking off.

            Do we need to antagonize our own anger? thought (Y/N) tiredly.

            “I wouldn’t,” said Bones.

            “Bones,” said (Y/N), leveling a serious look at him, and he cleared his throat.

            “We better get to the ship,” said Bones awkwardly, not wanting to see (Y/N) glaring at him like that. Scotty, Uhura, and Chekov were quick to nod and make their way out. Spock was walking towards them, and they knew he, (Y/N), and Kirk were about to have a row.

            “We volunteered?” questioned Kirk as Spock approached.

            “We are the logical choice,” said Spock.

            “We have experience with negotiations, battle, Klingons, and a host of other things,” pointed out (Y/N). “And, well, we have me.” They were a Celian with a command track. That was invaluable in this situation.

            “How could you vouch for me?” said Kirk, frustration seeping into his done as he looked at his Science Officer. “That’s…arrogant presumption.”

            “You have always been level-headed when needed,” said Spock. He had faith in his captain. “My father requested that I open negotiations, so I suggested the crew with the ability to do so.”

            “I know your father’s the Vulcan Ambassador, but for heaven’s sake, you know how I feel about this,” said Kirk. “They’re animals!” His anger was getting the better of him, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes in worry.

            “Korrd saved our lives when we were at the center of the galaxy,” said (Y/N).

            “Only because he had been expelled from power and brainwashed by psychic abilities to be nice,” said Kirk.

            (Y/N)’s eyes told of their disappointment in his approach to this.

            “Jim, there’s a historic opportunity here,” said Spock, trying to reason with him.

            “Don’t believe them, don’t trust them!” declared Kirk.

            “They are dying,” said Spock.

            “Let them die!” said Kirk.

            “Jim,” hissed (Y/N).

            But Kirk was too incensed to listen to anyone. “Has it occurred to you that this crew is due to stand down in three months? We’ve done our bit for King and Country.” His anger fell into a deeper sadness. “You should have trusted me.” He turned and walked away.

            Spock looked at (Y/N). “I have made a mistake.”

            (Y/N) shook their head. “You haven’t. This crew is the right crew for the mission. Kirk is just…” They considered. “Change frightens people. We have been at war for decades. We’ve lost people. People are afraid we’ll forget those people or that they didn’t matter if things evolve. But we must change. War is not the future; peace is. Kirk just needs time to process his emotions. He’s a good man.”

            Spock nodded and looked at his wise spouse. “Your words never cease to amaze me, T’hy’la.”

            (Y/N) smiled at him. “Thank you, Spock.” They leaned in and kissed him for a moment. At least they had him through this all. “I love you.” And they felt his reply as his fingers touched theirs.

l

            “Captain on the Bridge,” said a lieutenant formally as Kirk, Spock, (Y/N), and Bones entered the bridge. She even stood, back straight. One look at her appearance and lack of aura, though, said she was Vulcan, and everything made sense.

            “As you were,” said Kirk, waving a hand. “Lieutenant…?”

            “Valeris, sir,” said Valeris. “We were told you needed a helmsman, so I volunteered.”

            “Oh, you’ve mentioned her name,” said (Y/N) to Spock.

            Spock nodded. “She is the first Vulcan to graduate top of the class at the Academy.”

            “Saavik came close, if I remember,” said (Y/N). They had Saavik over for dinner whenever (Y/N) could convince her to stop working (not often, but Saavik seemed soft on Spock and (Y/N), not that anyone would say it, so she would acquiesce occasionally).

            “Indeed,” said Spock.

            “You must be very proud,” said Kirk, nodding to Valeris.

            “I don’t believe so, sir,” said Valeris.

            Bones chuckled in amusement. “She’s a Vulcan, alright.”

            Kirk headed to his chair. “Let’s get this over with.” He sat. “Departure stations.” His friends went to their stations. “Scotty?”

            “Aye, sir?” Scotty replied to the paging.

            “Did you find the engine room?” asked Kirk.

            “Right where I left it, sir,” said Scotty.

            “Standby,” said Kirk. He looked over. “Uhura, get me the dock master.”

            “Control tower reading, sir,” replied Uhura.

            “Control, this is Enterprise, requesting permission to depart,” said Kirk.

            “This is control.” The response arrived promptly. “Enterprise, permission to depart granted. Thirty seconds to port gates.”

            “Clear all moorings,” said Valeris as the Enterprise flew forward slowly.

            “Awaiting port gates from this mark,” said Kirk.

            “All lines cleared,” said the control tower.

            “Aft thrusters,” said Valeris, and the Enterprise moved a bit faster and with more purpose.

            “Thank you,” said Kirk. “Lieutenant, one-quarter impulse power.”

            “Captain, may I remind you that regulations specify thrusters only while in Spacedock?” said Valeris, turning in her chair to face Kirk.

            (Y/N) smiled in amusement and looked at Spock. He shrugged. This was a Vulcan, through and through.

            “You heard the order, Lieutenant,” said Kirk.

            Valeris turned to her controls. “Aye, sir.”

            The Enterprise flew forward out of spacedock and towards millions of stars on impulse power. They were off on a mission of diplomatic importance that could change the very future of the Federation and Klingons forever.

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            (Y/N) scrunched their hair in the bathroom mirror, looking at themself carefully. They weren’t particularly vain, but they preferred looking good to looking messy, and they felt more confident when they were put-together. Today, they definitely needed that. They would be at the neutral zone soon, and then (Y/N) would have to keep the peace between two peoples who hadn’t gotten along in nearly a century.

            Outside of the bathroom, Spock was speaking with Valeris, who had come to speak with him. Their voices filtered through the door, and (Y/N) listened fairly absently.

            “You’ve done well, Valeris,” said Spock. “As your sponsor at the Academy, I’ve followed your career with satisfaction. And as a Vulcan, you have exceeded my expectations.”

            There was a pause. “I do not understand this representation,” said Valeris.

            “It’s a depiction from ancient Earth mythology,” said Spock. “ ‘The Expulsion from Paradise.’ ”

            (Y/N) knew what they were looking at. It was a painting in their quarters that was of an angel pointing out of Eden and telling Adam and Eve to go. It was interesting to them because the angel looked mournful, sorrowful that the humans had to go. It was a beautiful piece, and they liked having it in their room with Spock.

            “Why keep it in your quarters?” asked Valeris. As a Vulcan, sparseness was typical of her room. These…trinkets were unusual to her.

            “To be a reminder to me that all things end,” said Spock.

            “It is of endings that I wish to speak, sir,” said Valeris.

            She paused, and (Y/N) stopped their movements in the bathroom. There was something in that pause and (Y/N)’s understanding of Vulcans—they weren’t perfect, but they could read them better than others—that spoke volumes.

            “Sir, I address you as a kindred spirit,” said Valeris. “Do you not recognize…that a turning point has been reached in the affairs of the Federation?” Her words came slowly, some measure of doubt in her Vulcan tone.

            “History is replete with turning points, Lieutenant,” said Spock calmly. “You must have faith.”

            “Faith?” repeated Valeris. That was not a common Vulcan idea.

            “That the universe will unfold as it should,” replied Spock.

            (Y/N) smiled warmly at their husband’s words.

            “But is this logical?” said Valeris. “Surely we must—”

            “Logic?” said Spock. “Logic is the beginning of wisdom, Valeris, not the end.” He had learned that emotion was also valuable, heart and connection and friendship and love. It was all important, even if one was acted on more often. However, that was for Valeris to learn through experience. Spock could not tell her it; she had to understand it. “This will be my final voyage on board this vessel as a member of her crew.”

            It is… (Y/N) felt their heart ache slightly. They loved this ship, and, yes, they would always have the bonds with their friends from it, but they would miss the Enterprise. Their life was evolving, too.

            “Nature abhors a vacuum,” said Spock. “I intend you to replace me.”

            “I could only succeed you, sir,” said Valeris.

            (Y/N) heard the door of their quarters slide open and close again. Then, they stepped out of the bathroom.

            “So, she’s your choice?” said (Y/N), looking at the door.

            “You disapprove?” Spock wanted his spouse’s insight.

            “No,” said (Y/N), shaking their head. “She simply has much to learn.” They sighed. “And I miss Saavik. Valeris is intelligent, to be sure, but Saavik had skill and a warmth to her.” They chuckled. “Of course, don’t tell her that. But I believe Saavik understood that wisdom is not just logic in a way Valeris does not yet.”

            “She values relationships with others more than Valeris does at the moment,” agreed Spock. “But Valeris has potential.”

            “I’m certain she does,” said (Y/N). “And I can only control my own recommendations for negotiations officer.”

            Spock nodded. “Of course.” However, he appreciated hearing their thoughts since it would help in his future instruction and guidance of Valeris.

            “All officers to the Bridge.” Uhura’s voice came over the comms. “Klingon battle cruiser off the port bow. All officers to the Bridge.”

            (Y/N) straightened. “It’s time to get to work.”

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[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Twenty

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Twenty: One Hell of a Lady

Summary: Sebastian and (Y/N) care for Sieglinde.

            “No! Don’t touch me!” shouted Ciel, blindly trying to hit Sebastian with his pillow. Panic remained etched on his face, desperate to be away from all adults.

            “Young Master,” said Sebastian, trying to calm Ciel as he had in the past. “You must not be so unruly. It is not good for your health.” He had dealt with such fits and traumatic moments from Ciel before, but this time…

            “Stop nagging me! Go away!” shouted Ciel.

            “Very well.” Sebastian had no choice but to obey.

            He stepped out of the room to where (Y/N) stood waiting. They looked at the feathers from the pillows decorating him.

            “He refused you again?” they observed.

            Sebastian nodded.

            “It seems we’ll be stuck here a while,” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed.” Sebastian regarded himself in the mirror. He looked at the red scars he sported form the “curse.” “I do not quite know how fast humans recover, but it must surely be about time now. It would not do to look less than presentable when serving a lady.” He swiped his hand across his appearance in the mirror, and his pristine skin returned. No blemishes remained in his appearance. “This will have to do.”

            “At least you get your uniform,” said (Y/N). They sighed.

            Sebastian smirked. “What does the Lady Sullivan request of you?”

            (Y/N) held up a black bundle of clothing. “She thinks I would look pretty in witch clothing.”

            “Do you require any assistance changing?” said Sebastian, a hand brushing down their back.

            “You mean undressing me, fiend?” said (Y/N), smirking.

            “Perhaps,” said Sebastian. “There is, after all, some time before the lady of the house awakes.”

            “Oh, dear, what will we do with all that time?” said (Y/N), brushing their lips against Sebastian’s.

            Sebastian devoured their lips in response.

l

            “Good morning, everyone,” said Sebastian and (Y/N), entering the kitchen. All of the other servants were gathered.

            “Good morning,” chorused the Phantomhive servants.

            “My, my, (Y/N), you look so good, you do!” said Mey-Rin, staring at (Y/N)’s new outfit.

            (Y/N) wore a black dress that had a square neckline highlighting the amulet of protection. The sleeves were slim and clung to their arms, but a translucent fabric fell looser overtop. The skirt fell long and loose, and a sash of black with gold stitching hung around their waist.

            “Thank you. It was a request of Lady Sullivan that I wear it,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian certainly wasn’t complaining about the command. They looked fantastic (they always did). He kept a close eye on Wolfram, though, who was avoiding looking at how attractive (Y/N) was. He spotted a group of three women. “Oh?” They were new.

            “Women from the village supply our foodstuffs and help dress my lady,” said Wolfram.

            “Is that so?” said Sebastian, looking at the three women who clearly were either nervous or suspicious of the newcomers. “Excuse us for not introducing ourselves earlier.” He bowed politely. “I am Sebastian.”

            “I am (Y/N),” said (Y/N).

            “We will be serving as Lady Sullivan’s butler and maid for a short time,” said Sebastian.

            “…I’m Hilde,” said the woman (Y/N) recognized from the confrontation in the village.

            “I’m Grete,” said the dark-haired woman.

            “I’m Anne,” said the nervous woman.

            “As we will be imposing on you for a while yet, please do not hesitate to ask for our help in any way,” said (Y/N), putting on a pleasant smile.

            “Now then!” Sebastian clapped his hands and looked at the Phantomhive servants. “Your duties for today. Baldo, prepare for lunch.”

            “Gotcha!” said Baldroy.

            “Snake, polish the silverware,” said Sebastian.

            “Understood, says Emily,” said Snake.

            “Mey-Rin, the linens, if you will,” said Sebastian.

            “Yes, sir,” said Mey-Rin.

            “(Y/N), you will assist me with the Lady Sullivan.”

            “Of course,” said (Y/N).

            “Finny, you are to look after the Young Master.”

            “Ye—Eeeh?!” Finny stared at Sebastian in shock. “That’s my duty?!”

            “Only you can take care of the Young Master at present,” sighed Sebastian. “If he can keep his food down, serve him a light breakfast. If he won’t eat, give him some warm milk and honey.”

            “Warm…milk?” repeated Finny.

            “Prior to all of this, it was the most effective way of coaxing the Young Master,” said Sebastian. “I shall tend to Lady Sullivan.” He glanced at Tanaka, in his Chibi form again. “Mister Tanaka, the usual will be fine.”

            “Hohoho,” said Tanaka, sipping tea.

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            “My lady,” said Sebastian as (Y/N) opened the doors to Sieglinde’s chambers. He held a tray of tea and breakfast and carried it in. “It is time for you to wake up.”

            Wolfram hovered behind them both, glaring at Sebastian.

            “Nnn.” Sieglinde yawned and stretched.

            “Today’s tea is Ronnefeldt’s Ceylon blend,” said Sebastian, and Sieglinde sniffed it.

            “Never heard of it,” said Sieglinde.

            “I hope you like it,” said Sebastian.

            “Delicious!” exclaimed Sieglinde brightly. “I mean, this is the first time I’ve had tea to wake me up.”

            “It is a servant’s duty to allow their master to awaken refreshed,” said Sebastian, smiling.

            “Tea is an excellent way to start the day,” said (Y/N).

            “Wolf, follow their example!” instructed Sieglinde.

            An irk mark appeared on Wolfram’s forehead. “Ja,” he gritted out.

            “Now, Lady Sullivan, it’s time to dress for the day,” said (Y/N). The three village women had wanted to do their duty, but (Y/N) was the maid for the time being, so it fell to them.

            Sieglinde brightened. “I wish to don the clothing of the outside world!”

            “Excuse me?!” said Wolfram.

            “I’m afraid the Young Master cloth’s alone would fit you,” said Sebastian.

            “That’s fine. Let’s have them,” said Sieglinde.

            “No, Mistress Sullivan!” said Hilde from where she had insisted on keeping an eye on the newcomers. “You mustn’t wear men’s clothing!”

            “If she wishes it, she must be allowed to. She is the lady of the house,” said (Y/N). And it wasn’t like there was a society other than “witches” to tell her how to behave as a woman. Why did they care about the clothing? Those were standards impressed upon women by a patriarchal society.

            “I don’t mind,” said Sieglinde. “I’d want cuter clothes, but I’ll wear anything.”

            “Well, if the lady requests English clothing for women, we shall provide.” Sebastian pointed at the cover on Sieglinde’s bed. “May I have this coverlet?”

            “Yes, alright,” said Sieglinde, and Sebastian took it. “But what do you intend to do with it—”

            “I shall return presently,” said Sebastian, disappearing out the door.

            “What is he going to do?” asked Sieglinde, bewildered and looking at (Y/N).

            “He’s going to make you a dress, my lady,” said (Y/N).

            “Right this instant? That’s impossible—”

            Sebastian returned with a flourish, and (Y/N) helped Sieglinde into the green dress and jacket before Hilde and Wolfram could say another word.

            “Amazing, Sebastian!” exclaimed Sieglinde.

            “It gladdens me to see you so pleased,” said Sebastian.

            “How did you manage to make this in such a short time?!” said Sieglinde.

            “That is a trade secret,” said Sebastian mysteriously, and (Y/N) smirked. “I am aware that it is inferior to the creation of a skill dressmaker, but—”

            “Not at all,” said Sieglinde. “It is most comfortable. I’m very happy with it.”

            “Now, my lady. It is time for breakfast.” (Y/N) picked Sieglinde up, and Sieglinde beamed.

            She was carried to the dining room where Sebastian laid out a lovely meal. Sieglinde’s eyes shone with excitement.

            “Breakfast so soon?! Wolf could never manage this alone!” She reached for a random fork amongst the multitude. “Now let’s ea—”

            “One moment, please.” Sebastian blocked her. “You are using the wrong utensil.”

            “Th-The wrong utensil?” Sieglinde stared at him. She had never heard of such a thing.

            (Y/N) smirked. Sebastian was going to take his duty as butler seriously to the little lady and teach her some real manners. Poor little human has no idea what she’s getting into.

            “Indeed,” said Sebastian. “The cutlery is to be used from the outside in. Use the outermost fork and knife to eat the hor d’oeuvres.”

            “I should be allowed to use whatever I want as long as I can eat with it,” pouted Sieglinde.

            “No, my lady,” said Sebastian. “A liege must have dignity. I am well aware that I am being disrespectful, but your table etiquette leaves much to be desired from a lady of your stature.”

            Wolfram bristled. “How dare you say that to my lady?!”

            (Y/N) leveled a cold look at him, and Wolfram flinched. “Lavishing undue affection on your young mistress and spoiling her rotten is no duty for a butler. You do not want your lady to disgrace herself, do you?”

            Wolfram faltered, and Sieglinde shook her head.

            “Besides, one can never possess too much knowledge of the world and the ways of it,” said (Y/N).

            Sieglinde brightened. “Knowledge…Yes, truly! Teach me more!” She was eager to learn all there was of the ways of the outside world.

l

            “That was delicious!” declared Sieglinde after her meal was finished.

            “My lady, when you have finished, place your utensils between four and six o’clock, their handles parallel,” instructed Sebastian.

            “I see,” said Sieglinde, doing as he said.

            “What is your schedule for the day, my lady?” said (Y/N).

            “I plan to ask you lots of things,” said Sieglinde.

            “As you wish, my lady,” said (Y/N), picking her up again.

            “My lady,” said Wolfram doubtfully.

            “I’m going to perform my duties as the Emerald Witch,” said Sieglinde.

            “Ja…” said Wolfram, following Sieglinde dutifully.

            “I’m so glad you’re wearing the dress I picked out,” said Sieglinde as she was carried to her room for her studies. “You look lovely.”

            “Thank you, my lady,” said (Y/N) pleasantly.

            “She’s quite correct,” said Sebastian, smirking as (Y/N) smiled.

            Once in her room, (Y/N) set Sieglinde at her desk. Sebastian settled his typical glasses on his nose, prepared to teach (he liked to get into character, didn’t he?)

            “What would you like to learn first, Lady Sullivan?” said (Y/N).

            “First, teach me the language of your country,” declared Sieglinde.

            I rather doubt she wants to learn the language of demons, thought (Y/N). “English, my lady?”

            “It would help when examining Ciel,” said Sieglinde.

            “Indeed,” said Sebastian. He searched their supplies and lifted a book. “I fear that this is all we have by way if a suitable textbook. It may be a little difficult for an introduction.”

            “What book is it?” asked Sieglinde.

            “A collection of English folk remedies,” said Sebastian.

            “What?!” Sieglinde was ecstatic as she took the book from his hands. As a healer, she was always excited to read about more ways to help people. She flipped through it. “What is that magic elixir?”

            Interesting. As I suspected, science and magic is the same to her, thought (Y/N). “That is laudanum.”

            “Lau..danum?” repeated Sieglinde. “The name sounds mysterious. It makes me nervous.”

            “It is mainly used as a cough suppressant and an analgesic,” said Sebastian.

            “It is made from poppy seeds,” explained (Y/N).

            “Ah, that,” said Sieglinde, recognizing its equivalent in German. She flipped to the next page. “What’s this?”

            “This is a remedy in which one is to ‘fry bacon in oil and wrap it around one’s neck’ in case of a sore throat,” said Sebastian. “According to the book, ‘bacon has hidden therapeutic effects.’ I cannot speak to its efficacy, however.”

            “I can safely say bacon is not a magic ingredient,” said (Y/N) in English, and Sebastian smirked.

            “This is the first I’ve heard of it! Wolf!” said Sieglinde. “Bring me some bacon at once. I want to try this!”

            As the lessons continued, (Y/N) wandered around the room. Sieglinde was engrossed in her learning, and Wolfram’s sharp eyes remained on Sebastian at every moment he was close to Sieglinde, allowing (Y/N) a quick look at the room without everyone’s knowledge. Nothing magic awaited them. There were candles and crystals, of course, but nothing with true magic or being used in a truly magical way. (Y/N) glanced at Wolfram and the little Emerald Witch. Once again, no magic existed here.

            So what was going on?

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[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Nine

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Nine: Resolved Dilemma

Summary: The Enterprise crew escapes the Being and ends this strange journey.

Mouse Note: Only one more movie to go!

            (Y/N) raised their head with considerable trepidation and looked across the rubble of the temple. Beside them, Spock stood and reached back down. They took his hand and got to their feet. Bones brushed dirt off himself and coughed as dust floated through the air. Kirk moved forward to the edge of the newly-formed crater where the temple, Sybok, and the Being once stood. Several still-standing columns fell as they watched, and the last-remaining bits of psychic and physical energy sparked in a pit as the torpedo’s firepower mixed with it like a potion from tales of old.

            “Sybok?” called Spock.

            If the temple still stood a bit and the energy remained, perhaps only the Being had been destroyed. Unfortunately, silence returned his words. (Y/N) felt Spock’s emotions settle into a cloud and put a supportive hand on his arm. They could understand grief, had experience it deeply, but they would offer Spock the support he needed when he asked for it. They knew he needed understanding and empathy, so that was what (Y/N) gave him—their support and love.

            The ground rumbled with tremors of the last bits of the torpedo and explosions. Bones held onto the rocks, and Kirk grimaced.

            “Let’s get out of here,” he said.

            “I’m sorry, Spock,” was all (Y/N) could say, voice soft.

            Spock covered their hand with his own. He was thankful to have them beside him in this moment.

            “Come on,” said Bones, scrambling out of the crater.

            Spock and (Y/N) followed, pulling themselves out and over the rocks. The Galileo III sat in the distance on the planet surface, and the four landing party members ran for it as fast as they could while the earth quaked below them. The sky was dark over them, and in the distance, at the temple crater, a dangerous red glow was gathering—more destruction preparing itself to erupt.

            “Spock, get us out of here,” said Kirk, getting the doors closed quickly.

            Spock sat in his chair and fiddled with the controls. “Thrusters are inoperative,” he reported.

            Kirk opened a comms channel within a moment of that announcement. “Mr. Scott.”

            “Scotty here, Captain,” said Scotty.

            “Please tell me the transporter is working,” said Kirk, hoping for some luck in this situation.

            “She’s got partial power, sir,” said Scotty. “I might be able to take three of you.”

            The Galileo III groaned and rocked as the planet outside trembled with powerful tremors.

            “Beam up Spock, (L/N), and Dr. McCoy,” ordered Kirk before the other three could speak. “Do it!”

            “Captain—”

            “We can’t leave—”

            “Now, just a damned minute—”

            Spock, (Y/N), and Bones dematerialized.

l

            The three rematerialized on the Enterprise Transporter pads and descended to find Scotty and Uhura waiting for them.

            “Thank you, Mr. Scott,” said Spock. “Bring up the Captain.”

            “Aye, sir,” said Scotty.

            The Enterprise violently rocked to the side. Scotty stumbled, Bones grabbed onto the controls to steady himself, and (Y/N) fell into Spock, who steadied them both against the wall. Behind them, the transporter sparked with energy before dying again.

            “Someone fired on us,” said (Y/N), standing.

            “Who the hell is crazy enough to go through the Great Barrier looking for a fight?!” said Bones.

            “We must find out,” said Spock, exiting the Transporter Room and heading towards the Bridge. (Y/N) and Bones were right on his heels.

l

            The Bridge was smoking as people put out fires from computers glitching from the attack on the Enterprise. The crew was in control, though, and the Galactic Army of Light was sitting despondently on the floor after the loss of their God, the revelation of a false God, and the death of their leader, Sybok. (Y/N) decided they could deal with them later and help the crew with the psychic effects of Sybok’s abilities when this situation was properly under control. There were levels of priority.

            “What about Jim?” said Bones as Spock headed to his station. “We can’t just leave him down there!”

            Bones was correct, but their transporter was once again inoperative, so another solution needed to be found. It was time for the Enterprise’s signature lateral and quick-thinking.

            “Please get a grip on yourself, Doctor,” said Spock, getting very logical as his worry pushed him to focus on problem-solving.

            “Status report,” said (Y/N), sitting down in the captain’s chair. They and Spock were captain ranked. It was just that Kirk was their captain and always would be.

            “Klingon captain wishes to name his terms, (Y/N),” said Uhura.

            Klingon? (Y/N) paused. Ah, Klingon response to the situation on Nimbus III. They followed us here and probably pretended to be Starfleet Command to understand our weakened condition.

            “Onscreen,” said (Y/N). They were a negotiator. It was time to put their skills to use.

            “This is Captain Klaa of the Klingon Empire,” said Klaa as soon as he appeared onscreen. “Do not attempt to raise shields or arm weapons, or I will destroy you. You are alive for a single reason. The renegade James T. Kirk! Hand him over, and I will spare your lives. My transporter stands ready to beam him aboard.”

            They’re mad at Kirk? (Y/N) thought about Genesis. They should be angry with me, but they’re looking at commanders. Very well. This could be helpful. “Captain Kirk isn’t aboard the Enterprise.”

            “You lie!” accused Klaa.

            “Captain Kirk is on the planet below,” said (Y/N). “Perform a scan if you don’t believe me.”

            Klaa paused and looked offscreen. Then, he looked back at (Y/N) “Give me his coordinates!”

            (Y/N) didn’t respond and instead turned in their chair towards Korrd. They weren’t giving Klaa coordinates to beam Kirk up, which would save his life, until they knew Klaa wasn’t a threat, which would mean he killed Kirk the moment he arrived onboard. “General Korrd.” He looked at them. “Your assistance is required.” It wasn’t a question.

            “My assistance?” said Korrd, confused.

            “You’re Captain Klaa’s superior officer,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m a foolish old man,” said Korrd.

            “Damn you, sir, you will try,” said Spock sharply.

            (Y/N) glanced at Spock and smirked. There was their husband, strong to the last. (Very attractive of him. And, of course, Spock had been watching them take control of the situation with equal amounts of attraction).

            Korrd paused before nodding, moved by the determination in (Y/N) and Spocks’ eyes.

            Satisfied, (Y/N) turned back to the viewscreen, and Uhura turned the mic on again. “Klingon Captain. Someone wishes to speak with you.”

l

            On the planet below, Kirk climbed up a hill as the red glow behind him grew so bright that he was entirely red himself. The ground was falling away behind him as the planet shook and trembled with contained eruptions of energy, and Kirk needed to get as far away as possible. He stood and looked up at the sky above.

            “You!” A voice echoed up around Kirk, and he looked back. Fading in and out of existence was the face of the Being, glowing an angry red.

            Kirk’s eyes widened, and he stumbled back for cover as the Being surged forward with their last bits of power. Phaser fire lit up the sky and hit the ground around Kirk. The Being was hit and wailed angrily, but they had to retreat as more of their power was sapped as they fell apart with their planet.

            Kirk stared up at his savior—and he instantly stilled. It was Klingon Bird of Prey. He knew in an instant why they were there, before him, phasers ready to fire. This wasn’t about Korrd and Nimbus III. It was about him and the Enterprise and (Y/N) and every other crew member from Genesis. They wanted revenge for the Bird of Prey being taken during that incident and their commander being killed by (Y/N), and Kirk, the Captain of the Enterprise, was the equivalent loss. He was their revenge.

            “So it’s me you want, you Klingon bastards,” he said. He glared upwards at the galaxy above. “What are you waiting for?”

            An instant later, he dematerialized in an orange beam of light.

l

            Kirk rematerialized on the Klingon Bird of Prey. He tensed for a fight as the Klingons stepped forward. Instead of trying to attack him, though, they grabbed him by the arms. Kirk fought against them, knowing this was just a show of strength before their captain killed Kirk, but the Klingons dragged him out of the Transporter Room and towards the Bridge. Kirk stopped fighting and kept his head held high. He refused to show fear after going through so much to arrive here. He had faced a god. He could face a Klingon.

            The doors to the Bridge slid open, and Kirk was pulled in. All the Klingons aboard stared at him, glowering.

            “Release him!”

            Kirk started and looked at the Klingon who spoke. It was Korrd from the Enterprise. He remained still in surprise even as the Klingons let him go to stand on his own, seemingly free.

            “Kirk, my junior officer has something he wants to say to you,” said Korrd, looking sharply at Klaa beside him.

            “I…” Klaa gritted his teeth but had to do the honorable thing and speak the truth. Klingons were stereotyped at violence—and they were disciplined and learned in violence—but they also had a set of ways they respected and followed. “…Apologize,” said Klaa. “The attack upon your vessel was not authorized by my government.”

            Satisfied, Korrd directed Klaa to step away, and the junior officer obeyed. “Now,” said Korrd. “May I present our new gunner?”

            Kirk looked over in confusion as the gunner’s chair turned around. Spock, perfectly calm and collected, sat in it, and Kirk let out an exclamation.

            “Spock!”

            Spock stood. “Welcome aboard, Captain.”

            “I…thought I was going to die,” said Kirk.

            “Not possible,” said Spock. “You were never alone.”

            Moved, Kirk stepped forward to hug Spock.

            “Please, Captain,” interrupted Spock. “Not in front of the Klingons.”

            Kirk let out a surprised laugh. He was alive, and everything was back the way it should be. “Where are Bones and (Y/N)?”

            “Dr. McCoy is tending to the injured on the Enterprise,” said Spock. “(Y/N) is assisting with those affected by Sybok’s abilities.”

            “Their pain will return,” said Kirk.

            “Yes,” said Spock. “But it makes them who they are.”

            Kirk nodded. “Wise words.”

            “I believe someone quite intelligent said them,” remarked Spock.

            “I believe it was your spouse,” said Kirk.

            “They are intelligent,” agreed Spock proudly.

            Kirk let out another chuckle. Yes, things were the way they were supposed to be.

l

            The forward observation room was filled with people celebrating the return of the Enterprise to normal, the return to the galaxy, and the return—or newfound hope—of peace between Korrd, Caithlin, and Talbot after the incident on Nimbus III. The members of the Galactic Army of Light were in lockup, and those affected by Sybok’s psychic abilities had been returned to their complete selves, even if it hurt for a bit to have their pain return. They needed it all to be who they were, though.

            Kirk entered the room and looked around to see how people were doing. At one side of the room, Scotty was approaching Korrd, and Kirk braced himself for an altercation.

            “Would you care for a wee nip of scotch whiskey?” said Scotty to Korrd, jovial as ever even if it was a Klingon—life was moving forward.

            “Hm.” Korrd considered before nodding gruffly and accepting a glass. Together, he and Scotty took a sip, and Korrd nodded approvingly.

            Scotty chuckled. “I never thought I’d be drinking with a Klingon.”

            Kirk smiled and continued on his walk. He raised a brow as he saw Chekov speaking to a Klingon woman, clearly trying to impress her, but all he could do was shake his head and continue. As long as there was peace after such an incident, he would be satisfied; his personal feelings about Klingons could be put to the side.

            “Thank you again for your assistance,” said Talbot to (Y/N) where they stood near a table.

            “It was no problem,” said (Y/N), smiling. “I’m just glad I had the abilities to help.”

            “The lack of pain was…pleasant,” said Caithlin. “However, I am pleased to feel like myself again. I was far too willing to join crusades.”

            “As was I,” agreed Talbot.

            “I should have known the effects of the Vulcan’s abilities would be reversed, though, once I saw you,” said Caithlin.

            “Celians do have a bit more influence over emotions than Vulcans typically do,” said (Y/N).

            “Yes, but I mean you, (Y/N) (L/N),” said Caithlin.

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “Oh?”

            Spock raised a brow. “You’ve heard their name?”

            “Yes, from a Commander in the Romulan Empire,” said Caithlin. “Liviana.”

            (Y/N) smiled, and Spock’s gaze narrowed slightly.

            “How is she?” asked (Y/N).

            “Moving up the ranks,” said Caithlin.

            (Y/N) nodded and wanted to reply, but as Spock saw Kirk, he gently took their arm.

            “Ah, Captain,” he said, walking over towards him.

            (Y/N) gave a quick goodbye to Talbot and Caithlin and nudged Spock playfully. “My dear, you have no reason to be jealous of Liviana. We met her years ago and haven’t seen her since.”

            “And yet she still speaks of you,” said Spock. He knew (Y/N) was attractive, intelligent, talented, and kind, but he wasn’t a fan of others being attracted to them. They were his spouse.

            “Spock, let’s remember that she also flirted with you,” said (Y/N), amused.

            “I remain uninterested,” said Spock.

            “As do I,” said (Y/N), leaning against him.

            “Trouble in paradise?” said Kirk.

            “That was on Sha Ka Ree,” said (Y/N).

            “Bones, what are you up to? Cosmic thoughts?” said Kirk as they approached the window where he was looking out at the stars.

            Bones looked at them. “I’m speculating…‘Is God really out there?’ ”

            “Maybe…” Kirk paused. “Maybe He’s not out there, Bones.” He looked at the galaxy and the millions of stars and planets. “Maybe He’s right here in our hearts.”

            (Y/N) hummed at the sweet thought and gazed at the stars. The galaxy was unknowable in its entirety, but friendships, relationships…they were tangible and real. They looked at their husband fondly and saw him deep in thought.

            “Spock?” said (Y/N) gently.

            “I was thinking of Sybok.” Spock, too, was considering relationships, hearts, and love. “I have lost a brother.”

            (Y/N) touched their fingers to his to offer some comfort, and Spock let their warm aura wind through his veins gently. “I know,” they said softly.

            “I lose a brother once,” said Kirk. Then, he looked at Spock, who gazed back at him. “But I was lucky, I got him back.”

            (Y/N) felt Spock’s emotions warm, and they smiled as they learned against his shoulder.

            “Oh, god,” said Bones, but his gruffness held no trace of true annoyance. Instead, his smile and bright aura betrayed his fondness. “I’m family with the most insane people I know.”

            Kirk grinned, Spock raised a brow, and (Y/N) laughed. This was their family—their husband and their brothers. Their sister, Uhura, stood chatting with other friends. Who knew if there was a creator out in the universe. (Y/N) didn’t. But they had faith in their heart and those they loved. That was what mattered.

l

            “Are you going to pluck that thing or are you going to play something?” said Kirk.

            Back in Yosemite at a familiar campsite, Kirk, (Y/N), Spock, and Bones sat around a warm bonfire. Spock straightened his Vulcan lyre and began to strum it.

            “Row, row, row your boat, gently down the stream,” sang all four. “Merrily, merrily, merrily, merrily, life is but a dream.”

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[anonymousewrites]

[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Nineteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Nineteen: One Hell of a Curse

Summary: Sebastian and Ciel must be cleansed of the Wolfman's curse.

            In an ornate chamber fare belowground, a large cauldron—a lake in itself—stood with hot water stirred within, not burning but warming. Shelves of herbs and chemicals lined the room, and lights shone on everything, from worktables to the dusty corners.

            “Hurry, we haven’t much time!” ordered Sieglinde. “Take off your clothes and throw them into the oven!”

            Fire to expunge any residual miasma, thought (Y/N). Chemistry and witchcraft shared similarities. Still, now was not the time to think of evidence. It was time to act, so (Y/N) pulled Sebastian’s clothes from him, took the bundle of Ciel’s garments, and shoved them into the oven where a fire roared to life.

            “Now into the cauldron with you, quickly!” commanded Sieglinde.

            Sebastian supported Ciel in the water as they dipped in, water rushing over them and easing the swelling and development of boils.

            “When did they go into the forest?” demanded Sieglinde.

            “About fifteen minutes ago,” said (Y/N).

            “Curses! Then we’re nearly out of time,” said Sieglinde, pouring out ingredients. (Y/N) noted each one carefully. “Wolf, boil some water! Bring we more cleansing herbs!”

            “Ja!” Wolfram obeyed immediately.

            (Y/N) knelt over the opening of the cauldron, watching Sebastian and Ciel within the water carefully while Sieglinde finished the potion. Wolfram lifted her up, and Sieglinde held her potion tightly.

            “Submerge yourselves in the water while I chant the spell! Stay in there until I tell you to come out!” instructed Sieglinde.

            Sebastian pulled Ciel below the water before the frightened boy had a chance to speak—his throat closing in panic from the entire ordeal, being manhandled, and facing physical danger.

            Sieglinde inhaled and spoke as she poured her concoction of powered herbs into the water. “Nornir, ye three goddesses of fate. Bring to me the blessing of Urdarbrunnr.”

            Asking to guide fate, thought (Y/N), recognizing the names of the deities. No magic trembled in the air, though. No rush of power thrummed through Sieglinde’s veins. She simply spoke words that moved nothing but her own heart.

            “Be our witness, o goddess of fortune. Forgive us our sins,” chanted Sieglinde. “Sol, of goddess of the sun. Mani, of god of the moon. Forgive us our sins. Forgive us our sins.”

            (Y/N) watched Sebastian lick the water, tasting each element of the purification potion.

            “Forgive us our sins,” said Sieglinde. “You can come out!”

            Sebastian brought Ciel to the surface, and he spluttered for air.

            “What do we do now?” said (Y/N).

            Wolfram handed Sieglinde the other potion she’d prepared and a funnel. “We need to cleanse their bodies from the inside. Make him drink this decoction and have him retch.”

            “Forgive me, Young Master,” said Sebastian, forcefully taking ahold of Ciel’s face, hand ungloved and contract mark on display. He forced him to down the liquid. He coughed and threw it up, just as needed, but he flailed in Sebastian’s arms, anxious and panicked.

            “What about you, are you feeling ill?” questioned Sieglinde.

            “There is no need to worry about me,” said Sebastian. “Please see to the Young Master first.” He was a demon. In this form, his appearance was disturbed, but that could be quickly corrected, and no sickness had a chance of taking him.

            “Very well, then do it once more,” said Sieglinde.

            Sebastian’s hand cupped Ciel’s face, and the boy was forced to drink and vomit again. And despite it being Sebastian holding onto Ciel, his eyes widened, and his hand reached out, reaching for help, reaching for salvation.

            His eyes closed, and Ciel sunk beneath the water. Sebastian supported him and looked at Sieglinde.

            “What happened?” said Sebastian.

            “He is exhausted, but he should be cured. We can only monitor and hope now,” said Sieglinde.

            “I’ll get clothes for you both,” said (Y/N), looking from Ciel to Sebastian.

            “Thank you,” said Sebastian. He was glad he was not handling everything alone, even if he could. Their presence…it helped in all moments.

l

            (Y/N) stood beside Sebastian. “What happened?” they said as Sebastian patted a wet washcloth over Ciel’s head.

            “We saw the wolfman, a bare shadow, and I felt the fog was strange, as you did,” said Sebastian. “So I returned the Young Master here before hunting the creature down. I did not find it before I began to show the signs of sickness the Young Master does.”

            (Y/N) frowned. “It must be the fog,” they said decidedly. “I am not sure how, yet, but it must be. There is no curse. The purification wasn’t magic. It was all science. I’m certain.”

            “I look forward to finishing this ordeal and leaving this place,” said Sebastian. He did not appreciate his contract nearly dying.

            (Y/N) nodded. Softly, their hand traced his cheek where the scars of illness still rested. “When will you remove these?”

            “Soon. I must keep up appearances,” said Sebastian. “Am I not handsome enough for you?”

            “Nonsense. I prefer you at your best, though,” teased (Y/N).

            Sebastian raised their hand and kissed the glove back. Lightly, he nipped their finger. “I am always at my best.”

            “Good,” said (Y/N).

            Knock! Before they had a chance to say anything, the Phantomhive servants threw open the doors of Ciel’s room, eyes wide.

            “We heard the Young Master is hurt!” said Finny, instantly running to Ciel’s beside.

            “Oh my, yes he is,” said Mey-Rin worriedly.

            “Can we help?” said Baldroy.

            “Any form of assistance, we will offer it,” said Tanaka.

            “Yes, of course, says Emily,” said Snake.

            Sebastian raised a hand, and all the servants quieted. “The Young Master needs rest. That is all. If you insist on remaining here, then be calm and quiet. Disturbing him will not be tolerated.”

            The servants nodded fervently, promising their best behavior. The two demons allowed them to stay. Baldroy and Mey-Rin hovered to the side, Tanaka assisted (Y/N) and Sebastian with cleaning, and Snake and Finny remained at Ciel’s side, Ciel’s hand softly in Finny’s.

            “Waaaaaaahhhh!”

            A scream pierced the air, and everyone whirled. Ciel’s eyes were wide open, and his arm reached up helplessly to the air.

            “Young Master,” said Sebastian, shoulders relaxing upon seeing Ciel awake. “My word. You had me worried there for a while.”

            “I’m so glad, Young Master!” said Finny, eyes tearing up as Ciel took deep breaths.

            “Scared the life outta me, ya did,” said Baldroy, relief etched on his features.

            “Yes, indeed,” said Tanaka, voice soft with gladness.

            “How are you feeling, Master Ciel?” said Mey-Rin.

            “Ciel…?” breathed Ciel, staring up at the ceiling.

            (Y/N) frowned. Something was off in his expression. Sebastian noticed as well and leaned towards him.

            “Young Master?” He reached for his wrist. “Is something wrong?”

            “Waah!” Ciel cried out and slapped Sebastian away. “N-No!” HE grabbed onto Finny’s hand, pulling him closer, curling up against the other young boy. “Ciel…doesn’t want to be hurt anymore!”

            Everyone’s eyes widened, and Sebastian stared at his hand.

            “It’s dark…where am I? I’m scared,” said Ciel, shaking.

            “Young Master, what is the matter?” said Sebastian. “It is not dark at a—”

            (Y/N) put a hand over his arm as he reached out again. “Sebastian, don’t touch him right now.”

            Sebastian lowered his hand.

            “Who’s there?” Ciel’s voice trembled. “I can’t see anything…”

            “No,” said Sebastian, realizing what had happened.

            “I believe the Young Master probably cannot see,” said Tanaka sadly.

            “Someone!” cried Ciel. “Please light up the room, I’m begging you!”

l

            The servants, minus Finny, who remained with Ciel, stood outside his door, trying to figure out what to do.

            “Y-Young Master’s eyes are…” Mey-Rin buried her face in her hands, crying.

            “Enough! Stop yer bawlin’ and watch your mouth, woman!” said Baldroy, using gruffness to hide his own worry. “We dunno that his sight’s gone for good.”

            “But we can’t even take care of him when he’s like that, says Keats,” said Snake.

            “No, we can’t,” said Baldroy. “He not only rejected us but even Sebastian. What in the world has come over the Young Master? I wonder why he didn’t lash out at Finny, though.”

            He’s a child, like Ciel. And it is adults who caused him so much harm, thought (Y/N). “What will you do now, Sebastian?”

            “If the Young Master commands me not to touch him, I cannot touch him,” said Sebastian. “I will ask Lady Sullivan for advice when she awakens. You all go and get some rest now.” It was still night outside.

            “And you, Mr. Sebastian, what will you do?” said Mey-Rin, wiping her tears of worry away.

            “There is something I must see to,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) glanced at him. They had something to see to.

l

            “The fog is gone now,” said Sebastian, walking with (Y/N) through the forest. “However, I still cannot sense a single living creature in this place. And yet…” He pulled his glove off and looked at his “scarred” contract hand. “A demon cannot be affected by the aura of evil spirits. So what is the nature of the miasma and the wolfman?”

            “Scientific, certainly,” said (Y/N). “But exactly how evades us.”

            Sebastian looked around at the trees and considered them. Carefully, he broke off a twig. Smelling it, he offered it to (Y/N). They sniffed and tilted their head. Something clung to it, remnants of the fog.

            “In any case, we are bound to this place under the Young Master recovers,” said Sebastian. He tutted. “My, my. The case at hand simply does not seem to suit us this time around.”

            “We’ll handle it,” said (Y/N). They put a hand on his arm. “You and I.”

            Sebastian smiled. “Thank you.” He leaned his forehead against theirs, as glad as ever to have the being he loved beside him.

l

            “We apologize for all the trouble we caused last night.” Sebastian and (Y/N) bowed to Sieglinde. Her eyes, however, didn’t leave the sumptuous feast laid out before her. “As a token of gratitude, we have prepared a late breakfast for you, my lady. We hope you enjoy it.”

            Sieglinde certainly did. She dug in, eating everything on every plate with her typical gusto. Clearly, although Wolfram fed her enough, she hadn’t had food this good in a long time. Not to mention (Y/N) and Sebastian’s skills were above and beyond what mortals could expect.

            As she ate, Sebastian explained Ciel’s current predicament and where the Phantomhive servants found themselves—unable to leave and unable to properly serve their master as usual.

            “I see,” said Sieglinde, munching on food. “So the miasma has impaired his sight.”

            “Will the Young Master’s eyes heal, my lady?” said Sebastian.

            “I need to examine him first, but you say no one can get near him?” she said.

            “He only allows our gardener near him,” said (Y/N).

            “Hm.” Sieglinde considered. “The miasma of the Werewolves’ Forest weakens a human’s heart and intensifies his fear. There may be a reason why he only allows the gardener to approach him.”

            Sebastian’s gaze darkened. “If that is so, then it might be ‘adults’ whom the Young Master wishes to keep away…”

            (Y/N) had guessed as much, and this confirmed it.

            “Why would that be?” said Sieglinde, worried for her new friend.

            “The Young Master has his reasons,” said Sebastian.

            “Indeed…”

            “In any case, what specifically causes the murk in the forest?” asked Sebastian, searching for information.

            “It is ‘evil magical power’ given off by the wolfman,” said Sieglinde.

            Well, if that were true, Sebastian and I would infect poor, defenseless humans all the time with our auras. (Y/N) nearly grinned. How entertaining would that be?

            “A human affected by it is cursed and takes on the shape of something resembling a demon—”

            I’m offended. My demonic form isn’t boils and swelling. (Y/N) was sexy as, well, hell. Terrifying to humans, ugly to their moral sensibilities at times, but appearance wise…sinfully attractive.

            “—only the secret elixir of the Emerald Witch can break that curse,” finished Sieglinde.

            “Hmm.” Sebastian and (Y/N) glanced at one another.

            “That’s why I told you not to enter the forest!” shouted Wolfram, breaking his silence. “So why’d you go in when you’d already been warned off, huh?!”

            What a suspicious amount of aggression and questions, thought (Y/N). A guard dog indeed, but of what? Lady Sullivan or secrets?

            Wolfram grabbed Sebastian’s collar. “Why don’t you understand?!”

            (Y/N)’s hand snapped out and grabbed Wolfram’s wrist. Wolfram stiffened as a powerful force curled around his bone, and he looked at the seemingly weaker individual glaring at him.

            “Let. Go,” said (Y/N) protectively.

            Sebastian nearly grinned at their tone. Possessiveness was incredibly alluring when (Y/N) expressed it. He was going to throw them onto the nearest surface he could find once they had a moment free and show them how attractive it was. Perhaps even amongst the “magic” in the basement… To desecrate a witch’s place of work in the name of a single moment of pleasure with (Y/N) sparked a great deal of excitement in Sebastian.

            Wolfram’s grip on Sebastian slackened slightly, but it wasn’t until Sieglinde barked, “Enough, Wolfram!” that he fully let go.

            Sebastian brushed off his coat and spoke pleasantly as ever, completely unconcerned with Wolfram’s strength. His was greater. “I went into the forest I was curious about Herr Wolfman, you see. We have yet to meet a wolfman, though we have met all manner of creatures.”

            “Precisely,” said (Y/N) cheerfully. “Demons and Reapers get so tiresome after a while. But a wolfman…there’s some novelty after so long.”

            Sieglinde and Wolfram stared at them, processing that information. “Come again?”

            “Well, anyway, only you can break the Young Master’s curse,” continued Sebastian without a care in a world for the confusion he’d caused.

            “Indeed,” said Sieglinde.

            “Lady Sullivan.” Sebastian knelt and bowed. “Please save the Young Master from what ails him. If you help him, I shall gladly do whatever you bid of me.” He glanced at (Y/N).

            I suppose he wants me to do the same. Alright. Let’s serve this “witch.” (Y/N) bowed to Sieglinde. “As shall I, Lady Sullivan.”

            “What?” said Wolfram incredulously.

            Sieglinde grinned. “Very well. Then, Sebastian, (Y/N)…I shall have you for my butler and maid until Ciel has completely recovered!”

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[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Eight

TOS Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Eight: Godly Dilemma

Summary: Sybok meets his god. (Y/N) is not impressed.

            The Galileo III soared through space towards Sha Ka Ree. Blue light illuminated the landing party within—Kirk, Bones, Spock, (Y/N), and Sybok. Behind them, the Enterprise eagerly awaited their discovery on the fabled planet at the center of the galaxy. Slowly, they passed through a blue cloud of dust, which danced like smoke around the shuttle. No one spoke as they stared at the never-before-seen sights unfolding. Below them were craterous mountain ranges and long canyons splitting the surface of the planet.

            As they descended, Spock paused from his navigation. He lifted a hand from the controls, yet the Galileo III kept flying.

            “I am no longer in control of this craft,” he said.

            (Y/N) looked at him and then the window to the outside world. Whatever happened now, it was out of their hands. The Galileo III was not stopping as it flew downwards towards the rocky surface of Sha Ka Ree. Sybok grinned at the group in triumph and joy as everything he’d fought to find spread out before him. Kirk and Bones were not looking away from the view, as stunning as it was surprising to see.

            Gently, the Galileo III, directed by unseen forces, lowered to the ground and landed. Solemnly, the Enterprise crew stood and headed towards the exit of the shuttle. Kirk paused and reached for a phaser, but Sybok put a calm hand on his shoulder and shook his head.

            “Alright,” said Kirk, letting go. “We’ll play it your way.” Then, he followed his crew out.

            Everyone stared around them at the sight of the fabled planet. Even if it didn’t live up to its mythological reputation, it was a wonderful place. That was true.

            “It’s amazing,” breathed Kirk.

            “The land,” said Spock, looking at the majestic mountains and untouched nature.

            “The sky,” said Bones, looking at the purple hues and warm light.

            “It’s beautiful,” said (Y/N).

            “Just as I knew it would be,” said Sybok. He stepped forward. “And now…to our creator.”

            He knew where he needed to go. The Enterprise crew could only follow. They went up and over rocky hills that overlooked a large crater bathed in purple light. They skidded down the rockslide-covered slopes to the bottom, careful of every movement. Spock remained ahead of (Y/N) and extended them an arm whenever they needed it. Once he reached the bottom, Sybok ran forward, looking wildly around for…anything. He slowed. There remained nothing. Everyone was quiet and looked around carefully. Only the whistling wind answered their silent questions.

            Sybok cleared his throat and lifted his arms. With his entire chest, he announced, “We have come this far!” The sound echoed off the crater walls despondently. “By starship…” Sybok spoke softer now, a slight bit of doubt in his voice now. He was expecting a response, but there was just…stillness.

            Kirk pulled out his communicator and flipped it open. “Enterprise, this is Kirk.” He was ready to announce the end of this expedition and make it clear to everyone intruding on his ship that there was nothing more to do but leave. Then he could save the Enterprise and the people in it properly.

            “Sybok, we’ve seen your travels through,” said (Y/N). “This is over, now.” They could feel his sadness growing in defeat.

            “Sybok,” said Spock when his brother did not reply. “Perhaps—”

            The ground rumbled, and the sound echoed in a roar through the crater. Everyone in the landing party froze, fear piercing the air like knives. (Y/N) tensed as the sky rapidly darkened, and the purple glow was exchanged for shadows. Slabs of rock shot up from the ground violently. Spock pulled (Y/N) to his side protectively, and they kept a hand on him as they watched the columns rise higher into the sky. Before their very eyes, a temple was built of crater rock and pure power. They stared in awe.

            (Y/N) felt trepidation run through their veins. Just what being was capable of something like this? And, more importantly, were they a threat to those (Y/N) cared about?

            Sybok walked forward through the temple, and the landing party followed, looking around at the temple in shock, fear, and awe. They walked until they found a large, circular chamber with a blue light in the center. The sphere emanated a powerful psychic aura, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes as they felt it prick at their arms as if testing the waters.

            The light brightened, and (Y/N) was forced to shield their eyes as the sphere rose into the air. It extended into a column of pure light and energy, a show of power that was truly, well, powerful.

            “Brave souls,” said the deep voice of the Being before them (around them? with them? (Y/N) couldn’t be sure. They just knew the Being was present in all ways that mattered). “Welcome.”

            “Is this the voice of God?” said Bones in astonishment.

            “One voice. Many faces,” replied the Being. The light flashed, and the faces of many different species appeared in the blue smoke and energy until it settled on the face of an older man with a beard. “Does this better suit your expectations?”

            “Qual se tu?” breathed Sybok, pure joy in his aura. He stumbled forward towards his god.

            “It is I,” said the Being. “The journey you took to reach me could not have been an easy one.”

            “It was not,” said Sybok. “The Barrier stood between us, but we breached it.”

            “Magnificent,” said the Being. “You are the first one to find me.”

            “We sought only your infinite wisdom,” said Sybok, humble to the last.

            “And how did you breach the Barrier?” questioned the Being.

            “With a starship!” said Sybok.

            “With a starship…” said the Being.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow as excitement in the form of happiness flitted through the Being’s emotions.

            “Could it carry my wisdom beyond the Barrier?” asked the Being.

            “It could. Yes!” said Sybok, eager to serve his god faithfully. He had come this far; he would spread his intelligence to all.

            “Then I shall make use of this starship,” said the Being.

            They need a starship? thought (Y/N).

            “It shall be your chariot,” declared Sybok.

            “Excuse me,” said (Y/N). Spock glanced at them as they spoke.

            “It will carry my power to every corner of creation,” said the Being, ignoring (Y/N)’s words.

            “Excuse me!” repeated (Y/N). Everyone looked at them, even the Being themself. The heavy, energetic gaze remained on them, but they did not cower. “I want to ask a question.” They kept their head held high. “What does…God need with a starship?”

            “Bring the ship closer.” The Being spoke again to Sybok instead of replying to (Y/N).

            They narrowed their eyes, trepidation and curiosity deepening into suspicion. “I said, ‘What does God need with a starship?’ ”

            “(Y/N), what are you doing?” said Bones.

            “T’hy’la, be careful,” said Spock. He, too, felt the need to ask such questions, but he did not want (Y/N) hurt.

            “I’m asking a question,” said (Y/N), undeterred.

            “Who is this creature?” demanded the Being.

            “Wouldn’t you know?” said Kirk, stepping up. He wasn’t going to stand by while this strange being tried to take control of his ship, claims of God didn’t matter. “Aren’t you God?”

            Sybok grew nervous and addressed the Being. “They have their doubts,” he said modestly, apologetically.

            “You doubt me?” said the Being, looking at Kirk and then at (Y/N), the first to speak against them.

            “Without proof, yes,” said (Y/N).

            “(Y/N), you can’t ask the Almighty for an ID,” said Bones warily.

            “Then here is the proof you seek,” said the Being.

            A beam of blue light shot from their eyes and hit (Y/N), sending them flying. They hit the ground and rolled to a stop as psychic shocks reverberated through their being, and they squeezed their eyes shut to fight it. Pulling on their empathy and psychic abilities, they forced a wall up. (Y/N) gasped for breath as they were released from pain, barely managing to pull themself up onto their forearms. Spock was already by their side, holding them by the shoulders protectively.

            “God is angered so severely by a single question?” challenged (Y/N), refusing to cower now.

            “Why?” Sybok looked at the Being, bewildered. “Why have you done this to my…family?”

            Spock and (Y/N) looked at Sybok in surprise. Throughout it all, he had sought to drive a wrench between them to continue on. However, now that he had achieved it all…true sense was returning. He cared for his brother again and was not trying to change him. He allowed his ship to be the Enterprise and not Sybok’s. He let Kirk lead the landing party. And now, he was admitting Spock belonged somewhere—in his family with (Y/N) as his spouse. That made (Y/N) Sybok’s family, too.

            “They doubt me,” said the Being as if that was an acceptable explanation—as if that was an explanation a Vulcan like Sybok could accept. (Y/N) could feel tendrils of doubt beginning to form around Sybok.

            “You have not answered the question,” said Spock. He understood (Y/N)’s decision to stand up to this Being. It had to be shown they were not a god of any sort but a Being with selfish desires—likely nefarious, if a starship was needed and brought through the manipulation of faith. “What does God need with a starship?”

            Blue beams of light shot towards Spock, but the moment they hit Spock, (Y/N)’s hand was in his, and their bright golden eyes were staring daggers at the Being as they fended off the psychic attack, protective to the last of their husband.

            “Do you doubt me?!” The Being’s voice boomed around them in another display of intimidation.

            “I doubt any god who inflicts pain for pleasure!” said Bones, his awe at meeting such a Being completely diminished. He wouldn’t stand for his friends being hurt, not for anyone.

            “Stop!” said Sybok to Bones, trying to avoid more antagonizing of the Being. He didn’t want another person he had brought with promises of knowledge and peace to be hurt. He gazed imploringly at the Being. “The God of Sha Ka Ree would not do this!”

            “Sha Ka Ree?” repeated the Being. Contempt coursed through his aura, and (Y/N) grimaced at the smudge of darkness in the aura. “A vision you created.” Four words shook Sybok to his core as his eyes widened. “An eternity I’ve been imprisoned in this place!” The Being’s voice rose to a thunderous roar, resounding with powerful echoes. “The ship! I must have the ship! Now…give me what I want!”

            Sybok stared at the Being, unable to tear his eyes away from the utter disappointment of all that he had searched for.

            “Sybok!” said Spock before Sybok could give in with the hopes of calming the Being—hope was illogical, after all, though Spock would not fault him for searching for it. “This is not the God of Sha Ka Ree or any other god.”

            “I don’t understand…Reveal yourself to me!” begged Sybok, seeking to understand. That was all he had wanted, to understand the world and himself purely.

            The Being’s eyes widened, and the face expanded, growing ever larger until the irises took up the entire light before them. The pupils expanded, swallowing blue glows into darkness. And a figure walked from that darkness, laughing darkly—and wearing Sybok’s face in a cruel trick.

            “What’s wrong?” jeered the Being’s voice, now mixing with Sybok’s own. “Don’t you like this face? I have so many, but this one suits you best.”

            Sybok’s eyes widened in horror as revulsion and fear passed through him in a whirlwind and stuck to him like ice. “No…No, it’s not possible!” His mind had deceived him, and all the light he had promised his people, his followers, was a lie.

            “Bring me the ship, or I will destroy you,” said the Being.

            “The ship…” breathed Sybok, heart thumping against his side. He had fought for it, and it was only to give this horrible Being a chance to escape imprisonment so clearly deserved for cruelty.

            “Bring it closer so that I might join with it,” declared the Being. “Do it or watch these…puny beings—” their face stretched out in a sadistic smile “—die horribly.”

            (Y/N)’s hold on Spock’s arm tightened, and beside them, Kirk and Bones tensed. Kirk only tensed for a moment, though, and subtly flipped his communicator open. He wasn’t going to die there or let this Being take his ship if he had anything to say about it.

            “What have I done?” Sybok turned towards the Starfleet officers helplessly, looking at each one of their faces. He stepped towards his brother hopelessly.

            “Sybok,” said Spock, trying to steady him.

            “You were tricked,” said (Y/N). “Many have been.” He had hope for knowledge and peace for the world. (Y/N) couldn’t blame him for believing and wanting to keep believing.

            “This is my doing!” gasped Sybok. “This is my arrogance…my vanity…” He saw it all clearly.

            Spock stepped towards him. “Sybok, we must find a way—”

            “No!” Sybok spoke firmly. “You must save yourselves.” He would not let anyone be harmed any further for his mistakes. “Forgive me, brother.” He touched Spock’s arms and squeezed slightly—as close as Vulcans could get to hugging. “Forgive me.”

            Spock reached out again as Sybok turned, and (Y/N) touched his arm. They shook their head. Spock understood, and he dropped his arm. He would respect his brother’s decision to protect him and everyone else. (Y/N) could feel Sybok’s resolution and determination. This was his brother, finally returned.

            “I couldn’t help but notice your pain,” said Sybok, stepping towards the Being.

            “My pain?” The Being’s voice echoed as they furrowed their brow.

            Sybok kept walking forward. “It runs deep. Share it with me.”

            He stepped into the beam of light and energy. The Being stepped back, but Sybok forged forward and embraced his twin. Sparks flew, blinding the group. And yet, as (Y/N) peered through their fingers at the column of light, they wondered if Sybok wasn’t embracing his own pain and guilt at the same time he embraced the Being—and he was moving on with it, making decisions to make up for his mistakes and forge a new path, no matter how short it may be.

            “Enterprise!” called Kirk over the sound of electricity crackling as the Being fought against Sybok’s embrace—psychic and physical. “Are you ready?”

            “Enterprise,” said Sulu. “Torpedo armed.”

            “But Captain, we’re firing directly on your position,” said Chekov worriedly.

            “Sending it down, Mr. Chekov,” ordered Kirk. “Now!” He grabbed Bones, and (Y/N) pulled Spock. “Run!”

            The four ran and dove for rocks as cover as a torpedo rocketed downwards. It slammed into the Being, Sybok, and the center of the temple. The world exploded into light, and (Y/N) felt energy singing their skin as they hit the ground, but as the Being and their energy swallowed up the torpedo, it became an implosion, a contained explosion within the column of light that destroyed the Being from the inside out.

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[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier Teaser 3

"Indigo" Playlist:

Let me know what you guys want to see next week!

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[anonymousewrites]

I have been waiting all year to post this.

[anonymousewrites]

I love being in ur taglist and getting the notifications when u add to stories I'm following. You are easily an award winning author. <3

Just wanted to out myself as someone who reads 1000+ page books in one sitting, so I'm waiting to binge a lot of chapters at once. (I feel a little guilty to not immediately read every scrap of your amazing writing) <3

First of all, thank you so much! As for your reading, don't worry! Binge away once you're ready! Can't wait to hear your thoughts <3

[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Seven

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Seven: Psychic Dilemma

Summary: (Y/N) faces off against Sybok, another powerful psychic.

            Sybok paced before Spock, (Y/N), Kirk, and Bones, beginning his new sermon. “Sha Ka Ree. The Source. Heaven. Eden.” Each the name of a mythical, spiritual place that would contain peace and knowledge beyond the understanding of this world. “Call it what you will. The Klingons call it ‘Qui’Tu.’ To the Romulans, it is Vorta Vor. For the Celians, it is Paradiso, Paradise. The Andorian word is…unpronounceable.” Sybok looked at each person with intensity. “Still, every culture shares this common dream of a place from which creation sprang. For us, that place will soon be a reality.”

            “The only reality I see is that I’m a prisoner on my own ship,” said Kirk, unmoved by the speech. He didn’t care about paradise if it came at the cost of his crew.

            (Y/N) nodded. “You’ve taken our ship, our freedom, and seek to take our minds.”

            Sybok shook his head. “I don’t control minds. I free them,” he said, words smooth as sweet as if this was a blessing.

            (Y/N) didn’t trust it and narrowed their eyes.

            “How?” asked Bones softly.

            Sybok turned to him. “By making you face your pain and draw strength from it. Once that’s done, fear cannot stop you.”

            “Fear is a necessary emotion,” said (Y/N). “People need caution at times. Fear is a part of that. To remove it is to put someone in harm’s way.”

            Sybok shook his head. “You are a Celian. You embrace emotions deeply. I understand. However, fear holds people back from living complete lives. I lift that.”

            “It sounds like brainwashing to me,” said Bones, standing. He swayed slightly, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes.

            Sybok stepped towards Bones, who backed up. “Your pain is the deepest of all,” he said.

            “What?” said Bones, faltering.

            “I can feel it.” Sybok gazed at Bones. “Can’t you?”

            Bones opened his mouth to reply.

            “Leonard…” said a hoarse voice.

            Fear and grief took over his emotions as he turned to face the empty corner of the room. “This is some kind of trick,” he said shakily.

            “Leonard,” said the voice again. A light appeared in the corner of this…strange illusion and showed a man in a hospital bed.

            “Father?” croaked Bones. He looked back at Sybok angrily. “Oh my god, don’t do this to me.”

            “Leonard,” said Bones’s father, David.

            Bones helplessly turned back, going to his father’s side. “I’m here, Dad. I’m with you, Dad,” he said, voice trying to remain firm despite the emotions flying around him in a storm.

            “The pain…the pain…” groaned David.

            “I’ve done everything I can do,” said Bones. “You’ve got to hang on.”

            “I can’t stand the pain…Help me…” begged David.

            “All my knowledge, and I can’t save him.” Bones’s voice broke on the words.

            “You’ve done all you can.” Sybok went to Bones’s side. “The support system will keep him alive.”

            “You call this alive?” said Bones, looking down at David.

            “Son…release me,” pleaded David.

            “I can’t do that, Dad,” said Bones. “…But how can I watch him suffer like this?”

            “You’re a doctor,” said Sybok.

            “I’m his son!” said Bones aggressively, combatting all of his pain with anger just as he always did. He whirled to the life-support systems and pressed a button. He gazed into David’s eyes as they closed gently, and he held his father’s hand as he passed before his very eyes for a second time.

            (Y/N) moved forward before Sybok could speak. Their hand went to Bones’s shoulder, and they pulled him into a hug. Bones, usually so gruff and closed-off, accepted it, hugging them tightly.

            “I’m sorry, Bones,” said (Y/N) gently. “I’m sorry.”

            “They found a cure so soon after I did it…” said Bones, voice hiccupping slightly as he tried to avoid crying. “A goddamn cure!”

            “If you hadn’t killed him, he might have lived,” said Sybok.

            (Y/N)’s sharp golden gaze landed on Sybok, and he stepped back slightly from the intensity of their gaze. Their empathy ran through them and into Bones, holding his emotions safe within their aura. Sybok and his psychic abilities could go to hell.

            “He asked to be released,” said (Y/N). “Bones did what he father wanted.”

            “I loved my father,” said Bones.

            “I know, Bones,” said (Y/N). “We all know it.” They could feel it so intensely through the pain and grief.

            “Release this pain! Release it!” said Sybok, still trying to get through to Bones. “This pain has poisoned your soul for a long time…let it go.”

            Bones looked at Sybok slightly, and (Y/N) felt his emotions becoming…blander. They held onto his shoulder.

            “Bones,” said (Y/N), and he looked at them. “You lost your father. But you were with him. You cared for him. Do you want to forget that by letting go of all of your feelings in that moment?”

            “I can’t…I could never forget him,” said Bones.

            “Because you love your father,” said (Y/N). “And that’s all he felt in his last moments. Not pain. Just your love.”

            Bones’s emotions steadied, gaining their pain once more but also bubbling with the warmth of nostalgic love. (Y/N) held him close, their brother in all but blood, and let him just feel. That’s all they could do.

            Sybok narrowed his eyes slightly as the Celian before him proved stronger and cleverer than he anticipated. But he remembered Sulu’s words. They and his brother were married. Their bond was strong. So if he wanted to stop the empath from interrupting his work…Sybok turned to Spock. Sybok would have to work on his brother. And I know him better than anyone.

            “Very well. If the Doctor is not ready to give up his pain, perhaps someone he respects can show him the way.” Sybok faced Spock. “My brother…You know it is irrational to fear the unknown.”

            “I do,” said Spock. It was the possible harm to the people he cared for that caused him to resist Sybok’s plans to go to the Great Barrier.

            “Then you must give up your pain,” said Sybok.

            “I hide no pain,” said Spock, looking at Sybok evenly.

            “I know you better than that,” said Sybok.

            “Do you?” said Spock.

            “Spock…Don’t!” said Kirk softly, trying to step in.

            “Spock,” said (Y/N), looking at him worriedly.

            Spock shook his head. Bones still needed (Y/N)’s abilities to help him process his grief. “It’s alright, (Y/N).” He looked at Sybok. “Proceed.”

            A scream pierced the air, and everyone turned to see a new illusion in the room. A pregnant woman lay on a bed with a Vulcan attendant beside her. The woman, the round ears showed her humanity, strained and screwed her face up in pain as she pushed with all her might.

            “What is this?” asked Kirk.

            “I believe we are witnessing my birth,” said Spock, eyes on his mother.

            (Y/N) looked at Amanda in the illusion as she gave birth, pushing so hard to give Spock life. The Vulcan priestess picked up the baby as Amanda rested, exhausted. Sarek entered the illusion to attend to his wife before looking to his son.

            “Sarek, your son,” said the priestess, showing Sarek baby Spock.

            Spock’s eyes remained on his father, and (Y/N)’s felt the negative emotions reverberate through their bond slightly. They looked at Spock, brow creasing in concern for their husband.

            Sarek gazed at Spock. “So human,” he said.

            Spock himself remained silent, looking at his father with his baby self.

            “Spock?” said (Y/N) gently.

            Spock closed his eyes as the illusion faded.

            “My dear,” said (Y/N), letting go of Bones. He was alright now, and Spock needed them. (Y/N) extended a hand to Spock.

            He opened his eyes and looked at them. (Y/N) didn’t need him to speak to understand what he was feeling. Sarek and he were still repairing their relationship. Seeing his father refer to him as human opened up old wounds. Spock would always have to contend with his dual heritage, not fitting with Vulcans but not fitting with humans, either. He would never be one or the other. And no matter how much he grew and gained friends, those old issues could pop up at times.

            “It’s alright, Spock,” said (Y/N) softly.

            Spock reached back to them, and he touched their hand. (Y/N) traced it gently, letting him feel their love and pure care for him. They didn’t care about anything but who he was as a person. And that was just what Spock wanted to feel.

            “Thank you,” said Spock, looking at (Y/N).

            They smiled. “Always, Spock.”

            Sybok stared. They hadn’t even used their abilities this time. They had just…spoken to Spock. This Celian, (Y/N) (L/N), was the truest threat to his endeavors. They refused to see reason and to be enlightened. He took a step forward. Their pain would have to be removed first, then.

            (Y/N) turned on Sybok before he could make another move. “Why do you think you have the right to manipulate people’s emotions like this? It’s wrong. It’s an infringement of their personhood.”

            “To let go of pain is to take a step to enlightenment, to truth,” said Sybok.

            “No,” said (Y/N). “Emotions, the feelings of the present and the past, they are what make us who we are. We carry them with us throughout our lives, and we grow from them and with them. They are necessary—the good and the bad.” They shook their head. “If we lose our emotions, we lose ourselves.”

            Kirk nodded and stepped forward to where Spock and (Y/N) were. He was on his friends’ sides. “We don’t want our pain taken away. I don’t want my pain taken away. I need my pain.” (Y/N) was entirely right, and no matter what Sybok tried, Kirk knew it was true.

            “Sybok,” said Uhura’s voice across comms.

            Sybok straightened, keeping a calm head and remaining in control of himself—though he was losing control of the situation. “Captain, (L/N), I’m afraid you’ll have to remain here,” said Sybok. He looked to the two he’d reached out to. If they just let go…they could join him. “Spock, Dr. McCoy…Join—”

            “I cannot go with you,” said Spock.

            “Why not?” urged Sybok. “You’ll belong, and you’ll no longer have to feel the pain of lacking a place.”

            Spock was unmoved. “I belong here.” He spoke the simple truth.

            “I don’t understand,” said Sybok.

            “Sybok,” said Spock. “You are my brother, but you do not know me. I am not the outcast boy you left behind those many years ago. Since that time I found myself and my place and I know who I am. I will not go with you. I will always belong here.” He looked at (Y/N) and traced their hand, touching his fingers to theirs. (Y/N) smiled back at him, glad to know Spock knew he belonged with them, always.

            Sybok watched, surprised by the openness with which Spock, the brother who tried so hard to be Vulcan, displayed his affection. Sulu had been right in his information on them. Their bond was unbreakable.

            “You can count me out, too,” said Bones. He was still rattled by the experience of seeing his father’s passing again, but he knew who he stood with. He knew the merit of his emotions, and, more importantly, he knew he loved his friends more than he feared his own pain.

            Sybok stared at Bones and Spock. His eyes traced over Kirk and (Y/N), unmovable against his will. “Then I’ll see you on the other side.” He would continue without them, then. He headed to the doors.

            “Wait!” said Kirk. “You know we’ll never make it through the Great Barrier.” He couldn’t risk his crew and friends.

            Sybok looked at Kirk. “What if we do?” he said. “Will that convince you that my vision is true?”

            “What vision?” said Kirk, furrowing his brow.

            “Given to me by God,” said Sybok, not a single trace of doubt to be seen in his emotions. “He waits for me on the other side.”

            “You’re mad,” exclaimed Kirk.

            “Am I? We’ll see.” Sybok swept out of the room. There was nothing Kirk, Spock, Bones, or (Y/N) could do to stop him before they made it to the Barrier.

            “(Y/N)…” said Bones softly. “Thank you. If you hadn’t knocked some sense into me…” He was trying to be his usual self, but he trailed off, unable to continue.

            “No problem, Bones,” said (Y/N), smiling gently. “I’m your friend. I’m here for you, whenever you need it.” They looked at Kirk and Spock. “I’m here for all of you.”

            “We’re glad,” said Kirk. He worried he would have lost Bones and Spock without them.

            “Thank you, T’hy’la. For everything,” said Spock.

            The moment he finished speaking, the ship shook. They had arrived at the Great Barrier. Outside of the observation room, light flashed through the windows. They were bathed in green light, and then blue light swam before them in strange spirals as the Enterprise forged onwards. And then…they were in darkness with a single ball of light floating in empty space before them. The group stared at the possible center of the galaxy, a fable turned reality.

            “Is it possible?” breathed Kirk.

            “Fascinating,” said Spock.

            “Are we dreaming?” asked Bones.

            “If we are, then life is a dream,” said (Y/N).

            “Sybok is going to go down there,” said Kirk, staring at the blue ball of light.

            “He will,” agreed Spock.

            “What are we going to do?” said Bones. “He didn’t get us killed, unless this is heaven, but I don’t want him being in charge here.”

            “…We go with him,” said Kirk.

            “With our free choice,” said (Y/N).

            Kirk nodded. “He’s gotten where he wants. If he’s logical, he has no reason to deny us.”

            “Well, he may be Vulcan, but he sure as hell ain’t logical,” said Bones.

            “We’ll find out,” said (Y/N).

            “We have our negotiator to work things out,” said Kirk.

            “Captain, may I recommend you speak? Sybok may not react well to (Y/N) after they interrupted his plans so easily,” said Spock.

            “Good point,” said Kirk.

            (Y/N) sighed dramatically. “Vulcans and their pride. You use your empathic understanding to make a good point, and they’re all up in arms.”

            Bones chuckled.

l

            Kirk led the way through the door of the Bridge, and he stood before the crew as all heads turned towards him. Uhura, Sulu, and Chekov brightened upon seeing (Y/N), Spock, Bones, and Kirk. Korrd, Caithlin, Talbot, and Sybok were surprised to see them. Kirk ignored all the stairs to look at Sybok directly. Sybok smiled as he approached, and (Y/N) had to resist reacting to his appearance of smugness—this wasn’t a victory for Sybok, it was a decision by a captain to protect his crew.

            Kirk looked around at the Galactic Army of Light as they clicked their phasers on before addressing Sybok. He would have to be careful. “About the ship.” And the crew within it remained unsaid.

            “The ship needs its Captain,” said Sybok.

            Kirk was right. He got to the center of the galaxy, so he’s more willing to allow us control, thought (Y/N). His only goal is getting down to that planet now. Knowing what someone wanted was imperative for good negotiations.

            “No special conditions?” Kirk remained wary.

            “No conditions,” confirmed Sybok.

            Kirk looked at (Y/N), and they nodded. No sign of lying in Sybok’s emotions.

            Kirk paused and asked carefully, “What makes you think I won’t turn us around?”

            “Because you, too, must know,” said Sybok.

            Kirk sighed. Sybok was right. Kirk would remain in control, though. “Well, if we’re going to do it, we’ll do it by the book.” He turned to his crew, his. (Y/N) could help them regain their proper, complete emotions later, once Sybok was appeased enough to be controlled (and to get his army to stand down). “Chekov, take the conn. Sulu, standard orbital approach. Uhura, alert the shuttlecraft to stand by. Sybok, Spock, (L/N), Dr. McCoy, come with me.” He looked at the intruders and government representatives. “The rest of you, remain on board until I determine what it is we’re dealing with.” He looked at everyone as they hesitated and frowned. “Well, don’t just stand there. God’s a busy man.”

            And it may be time to meet Him, thought (Y/N).

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One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Eighteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Eighteen: One Hell of a Miasma

Summary: The investigation leads to a mysterious fog and strange effects.

            “Quite the village we have found,” said Sebastian as water boiled for Ciel’s tea.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N). “Entertaining, at the very least.” They leaned against the counter beside Sebastian. “Suspicious, too.”

            “Then you have made your decision about the presence of magic?” said Sebastian, plating teacups on a cart.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N). “I don’t believe true magic exists here.”

            “Lady Sullivan’s enchantment did not convince you?” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “She convinces herself. I suppose that is enough,” said (Y/N). “But there are no traditional practices here for such an antiquated village.”

            “Witches have modern practices, too?” said Sebastian. “How interesting. I still remember them dancing naked in the woods asking for power.” He glanced at (Y/N). “Did you ever engage in such events?”

            “Of course you’d like to know,” scoffed (Y/N), rolling their eyes. Sebastian just wanted to picture them naked. “But for your information, yes, modern practices hide magic more, such as under the guise of science.”

            Sebastian nodded in understanding. “And this is not such a moment.”

            “To be modern while so separated from modernity is a paradox,” said (Y/N). “Fundamentally, there is no taste of magic to this world of the emerald witch.”

            “I agree,” said Sebastian. (Y/N) was the expert on witches, but he was well-versed in magic himself. He placed the teapot on the cart to transport up to Ciel. “Which leaves us with the question of what is truly going on here.”

            (Y/N) nodded. “The curse and wolfman must be manufactured, but how?”

            Their investigation was not finished.

l

            “It better be strong,” said Ciel as Sebastian poured the tea. “We may be up all night.”

            “Of course, my lord,” said Sebastian, handing him the cup of hardy black tea.

            “Hm.” Ciel took a sip. “I never thought anyone would actually fall victim to the wolfman.”

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched, and their head tilted, catlike, as they heard something. Sebastian’s eyes went to the door.

            “I mean, it’s not in line with Klaus’s account—Mmph!” An irk mark appeared on Ciel’s forehead as Sebastian shoved a piece of bread in his mouth. Sebastian put a finger to his lips to quiet Ciel.

            (Y/N) opened the door of Ciel’s room, and Sieglinde let out a yelp as she tumbled into the room. (Y/N) tutted and lifted her up from her waist where she was supported by balloons, her bound feet too small to ever support her.

            “You!” exclaimed Ciel.

            “Welcome, Lady Sullivan,” said (Y/N), smirking. “Have you left poor Wolfram and come on your own?”

            “I’m capable of moving about the castle alone with this hexenballoon!” said Sieglinde indignantly.

            “I can see that.” (Y/N) released the belt supporting her, and the balloons floated away.

            “However,” said Sebastian, “I cannot say that I approve of a lady eavesdropping at a man’s door. So what business do you have here with us?”

            “I know why you are here!” declared Sieglinde. “I am a witch, after all. I can read your thoughts.”

            (Y/N) tilted their head. “Why are we here, Lady Sullivan?”

            “To take me. I am a young, pretty witch, but I tell you, nothing will happen that I do not desire!” said Sieglinde. She attempted to stand tall and instead fell on the bed. “That I tell you.”

            (Y/N), Sebastain, and Ciel went blank. What?!

            “What’s she saying—”

            “No,” said (Y/N) instantly, taking Sieglinde by the shoulders and sitting her up. “That is not happening.”

            “She seems to believe that foreigners—foreign men—mean something…inappropriate for your age,” said Sebastian, and Ciel’s shock and horror was palpable.

            “No?” said Sieglinde, raising a brow. “I am not opposed. I am young, but I find people attractive. Men…uh, I’m not sure what you are, but you’re also nice looking.”

            Sebastian let out a chuckle, and (Y/N) smirked.

            “I am myself, my lady,” said (Y/N). “And you may find people pretty or handsome, but you are too young for this.”

            “Besides, we have no such interests,” said Sebastian, and (Y/N) nodded with him. They were demons but not…that.

            “Ah. Then I have…misunderstood.” Awkard silence fell on the group.

            “Well…sharing sweet moments in bed can be delightful—” Sebastian smirked at (Y/N), who smiled slightly in return “—But what do you say to some sweets of the edible sort?” He held up the snacks he had prepared for Ciel.

            Sieglinde considered for only a moment.

            A few minutes later, she was happily chomping down on delicious macarons, eclairs, and Florentines. She hummed contentedly, nodding.

            “ ‘Men are always overwhelmed by the lusts of the flesh’ or so it is invariably written in books,” said Sieglinde.

            “Such men do exist,” admitted Sebastian.

            “I know a few like that,” agreed (Y/N), and Sebastian decided he was going to get them back for that remark later. It was only them he was overwhelmed by and desired fully.

            “Only women reside in wolfsschlucht,” said Sieglinde. “So this is my first time seeing a living, breathing man. Or…anyone else.” She looked curiously at (Y/N), who just smiled pleasantly (and mysteriously).

            “What about Herr Wolfram?” said Sebastian.

            Sieglinde deadpanned. “He’s more like a guard dog.”

            “An apt description,” said (Y/N).

            “On the subject of guard dogs, everyone in the village is terrified of this being you call ‘Herr Wolfram,’ ” remarked Sebastian. “What exactly is Herr Wolfman?”

            Sieglinde hesitated, becoming nervous, shy. “Do you know of the witch hunts?”

            “Ja,” said (Y/N), a single word containing centuries of history. Sebastian’s hand reached out and brushed their gloved fingers.

            “Long ago, witches were believed to be a cause of any number of calamities and were tortured and executed in the name of the ‘Witch Trials,’ ” said Sieglinde.

            (Y/N) remembered the women—witches and not—killed for standing against the so-called “natural order.”

            “The tools of torture out in the square are from those days,” explained Sieglinde. She shook her head. “But these people were not right about witches. To ward off disaster. To help people with medicinal plants—those were the witches’ original duties.”

            Suppressing amusement, (Y/N) remained dutifully still and silent. Witches were not healers or protectors, no more than they were monstrous beings who brought disaster. They were simply people who practiced magic. People who were—and remained—capable of good and evil just as any other.

            “However, as the times changed, witches came to be seen as heretics and were hunted down by humans. Barely escaping with their lives, many took refuge in this forest,” continued Sieglinde. “It is said that it was at this time that a lone witch offered her own legs in sacrifice to protect her sisters…and made a pact with the wolfman. She was known as the Emerald Witch. My ancestor. And so it came to pass that the lieges of this land through the generations would have our mobility restricted in this manner.” Her eyes fell to her tiny, bound feet, kept forever weak. She paused and looked up, giving Sebastian a moment to translate the story to Ciel succinctly.

            “Then why did the wolfman attack a villager? That’s a breach of contract,” said Ciel.

            “Breaching a magical contract with any being has repercussions,” said (Y/N), nodding while Sebastian asked Ciel’s question in German.

            “The wolfman and the Emerald Witch made their pact well over hundreds of years ago. The first Emerald Witch is now long dead,” replied Sieglinde. “So all of this must be the result of her blood running thin in our veins.”

            “In short, this village of Wolfsschlucht is no longer the ward of the wolfman, it is his captive—is that right?” said Sebastian.

            “That may well be,” said Sieglinde sadly. “As such, I’ve never once set foot outside this village since birth. I’m certain I’ll live out my days here without ever doing so.” She looked at Ciel intently. “You return to the outside world on the morrow, yes? So then…let me hear all about the world I’ll never come to know! The world that exists beyond the forest!”

            Sebastian translated, and (Y/N) said, “She went about it strangely, but it appears she wants to sincerely get to know you, my lord.”

            Sebastian leaned down and whispered to Ciel as Sieglinde waited eagerly for a reply. “For all intents and purposes, this girl is the village’s absolute monarch. Would it not therefore be advisable to befriend her to further our investigation?”

            Ciel groaned. “Fine.” Clearing his throat, he spoke in stinted German. “Sorry…just now.” He held out a hand to shake. “Let’s be friends.”

            Sieglinde stared blankly at his hand, and Sebastian took hers and guided it to Ciel’s. “In the Young Master’s country, two individuals who wish to be acquainted grasp each other’s hand. Like so.”

            Sieglinde brightened slightly and squeezed. When she let go, she smiled. “I shall give you these.” She pulled three amulets from her pocket. “They’re amulets to keep the wolfman at bay. Wear them on your way back.”

            “Thank you,” said Ciel.

            “Now, then…” Sieglinde’s expression looked guiltily curious. “Let’s have you get down to it and tell me more about those ‘sweet moments in—’ ”

            “Perhaps a card game instead, my lady?” said (Y/N) instantly. Sieglinde could continue reading her romances to learn more.

l

            “She’s finally asleep…” said Ciel, exhausted after playing card game after card game to entertain the young lady.

            “Admirably done, Young Master,” said Sebastian. He and (Y/N) had the pleasure of just watching instead of having to do anything themselves.

            “Even though I just had the words, I managed to keep up the conversation,” groaned Ciel. “Her speech was easier to follow than the fellow from whom we bought the carriage.”

            “It would be,” said Sebastian.

            “A different dialect, to be sure,” said (Y/N).

            A knock sounded at the door, and it opened to reveal Wolfram. “Looks like my lady has paid you a visit.”

            “She has only just fallen asleep,” informed Sebastian as Wolfram picked up Sieglinde.

            Wolfram held her close and cast a look at the Phantomhive lord and servants. “Whatever my lady may have told you, put it out of your mind. You leave at daybreak. Are we clear?” He shut the door to punctuate his words.

            Sebastian, (Y/N), and Ciel looked at each other. It was time for them to do some real investigation, then.

            “Sebastian, it’s time to look for the wolfman,” said Ciel, narrowing his eye.

            “Yes, my lord,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) stepped to the balcony and opened the doors. A fog had settled over the forest, and they narrowed their eyes. The smell was oppressive, invading their senses.

            “Don’t get lost,” they said.

            “Are you not joining?” said Sebastian.

            “I don’t like the looks of the fog,” said (Y/N). Besides, Ciel was not their concern; they had no contract tying them to him. Sebastian was capable of taking care of him. “And I want to take a look at our quarters to search for any spying equipment. Extra passageways and the like.”

            Sebastian nodded. “Of course.” He picked up Ciel and perched on the edge of the balcony. “We shall return soon.”

            He hopped off the balcony, and (Y/N) watched them disappear into the mist. Turning, they searched the room. Nothing appeared out of the ordinary, which greatly disappointed (Y/N) since they’d been looking forward to some entertainment. Alas, it seemed they had passed up the chance for fun.

            Knock

            (Y/N) turned to find Ciel back at the balcony. They opened the doors, letting him enter, and looked down. Sebastian stood below the tower.

            “The wolfman is present, but the fog…Your senses are correct. I have never felt a miasma like it,” said Sebastian.

            “You want me to keep an eye on Ciel,” said (Y/N).

            “Indeed,” said Sebastian.

            “Very well,” said (Y/N). “Return to me, Sebastian. There’s a ‘curse’ at large.”

            Sebastian nodded and slipped away into the fog. (Y/N) turned to Ciel, who sniffled and wiped tears from his face.

            “What happened?” asked (Y/N).

            “We saw the wolfman,” said Ciel, furiously blotting away tears. “And then I started crying for no reason, and they won’t stop.” His eyepatch slipped from his face as tears fell from his marked eye.

            (Y/N) frowned and took the handkerchief. “Let’s use a fresh cloth. If that fog is at all connected to the supposed ‘curse,’ then your handkerchief is no longer clean.”

            Ciel nodded, allowing (Y/N) to try to blot the tears away. He sniffed, and (Y/N) pulled the handkerchief away. Their eyes widened. Blood stained it, dripping from Ciel’s nose. No sooner did they both notice than he skinned reddened, strange boils swelling in his skin.

            “Young Master, we need to wash the fog from your skin—”

            “Young Master!” Sebastian burst into the room, and (Y/N) and Ciel looked at him. Sebastian sported the same markings of infection despite his demonic nature.

            “Sebastian…” groaned Ciel.

            The curse had hit them both. The curse that shouldn’t exist.

            Ciel doubled over and threw up. Sebastian knelt beside him, eyes wide. “Young Master!”

            “My body—it’s—burning!” gasped Ciel.

            “Sebastian, grab him, we’re going to Lady Sullivan,” said (Y/N), taking charge. “If there’s a cure to this so-called curse, she’ll have it.”

            “It seems to be a curse,” ground out Sebastian, holding Ciel and running.

            “Many things do,” said (Y/N), leading the charge. They knocked on Sieglinde’s door, and the tired, disheveled girl limped on crutches to the door.

            “What is it—You!” Her eyes widened. “You two have been in the forest, haven’t you?!”

            “We don’t have time to scold them,” said (Y/N). “They’re ill.”

            “I will accept any punishment you see fit later, so please save the Young Master,” said Sebastian, bowing his head.

            “My lady, what’s going on?” said Wolfram protectively, hearing voices. He saw the cursed pair. “You bastards—”

            “Wolf, we must perform the rite of purification. Prepare the cauldron!” ordered the little “witch.”

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Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Six

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Six: Prisoner's Dilemma

Summary: (Y/N) and their crew attempt an escape from Sybok.

            “Ah! Aha!” Kirk strained from where he stood atop Spock’s shoulders.

            (Y/N) stared at the opening in the ceiling where he was trying to find a certain wire. If they could gain control of some part of the ship from the inside out, then they could escape.

            “Useless,” remarked Spock. He didn’t believe this idea had much merit.

            Bones’s worry pricked at (Y/N)’s skin. This would either end very well or very poorly.

            “Unwise,” warned Spock as Kirk reached for a wire, but it was too late.

            The wire sparked, and Kirk jerked back from the electricity. He tumbled from Spock’s shoulders and hit the ground. Fortunately, he rolled as he landed, so he received bruises but no worse injuries.

            “You could’ve warned me,” groaned Kirk, massaging his back as he stood.

            “He did,” pointed out (Y/N), and Bones nodded.

            “There’s got to be a way out of this mess,” said Kirk, looking around the cell.

            “This is a new brig, Captain,” said Spock. “It is escape proof.”

            “How do you know?” asked Kirk.

            “The designers tested it by using the most intelligent and resourceful person they could find,” said Spock. (Y/N) and Bones exchanged a look. “He failed to escape.”

            “This person, he didn’t by chance have pointed ears and an unerring capacity for getting his shipmates into trouble, did he?” said Kirk.

            “And maybe handsome, too?” said (Y/N).

            “He did have pointed ears,” admitted Spock. “And some people may consider him attractive.”

            Well, that answers that, thought (Y/N), shaking their head in amusement.

            “Brave crew of the Starship Enterprise.”

            The group in the brig paused as Sybok’s voice reverberated from the comms in a ship-wide announcement. A moment later, the tiny viewscreen in the cell switched on to show his face.

            “Consider the question of existence,” said Sybok.

            (Y/N) raised a brow. What was this, a lecture?

            “These are the questions which man has asked ever since he first gazed at the stars and dreamed,” said Sybok. “My Vulcan ancestors were ruled by their emotions. They felt with their hearts. They made loved with their hearts. They believed with their hearts.”

            And they nearly killed one another over their hearts until they found a solution, thought (Y/N). That solution is not for everyone, but it is a solution. Just as Celians chose to embrace empathy and emotional understanding as another solution. Both are valid. They are just different.

            “And above all else, they believed in a place in which these questions of existence would be answered,” continued Sybok. This was not a lecture; it was a preach. “Modern dogma tells us this place is a myth, a fantasy concocted by pagans. It is no fantasy!”

            He spoke with pure conviction. Clearly, he believed himself, though whether or not it was real fact would remain a mystery until proof for or against was found. Belief was important, but (Y/N) and the Enterprise needed facts, too.

            “It exists!” said Sybok emphatically. “My brothers and sisters and siblings, we have been chosen to undertake the greatest adventure of all time…” He paused dramatically and gazed into the camera as if looking into the eyes of true believers. “The discovery of Sha Ka Ree.”

            Spock furrowed his brow. “Is it possible?” He spoke quietly, considering Sybok’s words carefully.

            “Spock, what is Sha Ka Ree?” asked (Y/N).

            “The reason Sybok left Vulcan,” said Spock.

            “Our destination—the planet Sha Ka Ree—it lies beyond the Great Barrier at the center of the galaxy,” continued Sybok in his announcement.

            “The center of the galaxy?” repeated Kirk in surprise.

            “Where Sha Ka Ree is fabled to exist,” said Spock.

            “But the center of the galaxy can’t be reached,” said Kirk incredulously. “No ship has ever gone into the Great Barrier. No probe has ever returned.”

            “Sybok possessed the keenest intellect I have ever known,” said Spock. “If he believes he has found a way, it may be true.”

            “Spock!” said Kirk. “My only concern is getting the ship back. When that’s done and Sybok is here, you can debate Sha Ka Ree until you’re green in the face. Until then, you’re either with me or you’re not.”

            “I’m here, Captain,” said Spock. He would not kill Sybok, but his loyalty was with (Y/N) and Kirk and Starfleet.

            “Captain, Spock,” said (Y/N), interrupting. “Do you hear that?” A soft tapping had caught their attention.

            Kirk and Spock quieted in order to listen. They didn’t ask if (Y/N) was making it up; they wouldn’t. Bones furrowed his brow.

            “It’s…tapping. Rhythmic but not a set pattern,” said Bones.

            “It may be a primitive form of communication known as Morse Code,” said Spock. “The rhythm fits with certain letters perfectly.”

            “You’re right,” said Kirk, furrowing his brow. “That one there…an ‘s,’ I think.”

            “I believe the next letter is a ‘t,’ ” said Spock.

            “ ‘A’…‘n’…‘d’…” said (Y/N).

            “You know Morse Code?” said Bones.

            “I’m a Negotiations and Communications officer,” said (Y/N) matter-of-factly.

            Spock looked at (Y/N) with pure adoration. They were such an incredible officer and so skilled at what they did…it was maddeningly attractive.

            “That was the end of a word,” said (Y/N), nodding.

            “ ‘Stand,’ ” said Bones.

            “New word starting,” said Kirk, listening intently. He moved closer to the wall to hear more clearly.

            “ ‘B’…‘a’…‘c’…‘k,’ ” said (Y/N).

            “ ‘Back,’ ” said Bones. “ ‘Stand back.’ ”

            The four paused. “Stand back!” they exclaimed. Spock grabbed (Y/N) and pulled them back while Kirk and Bones jumped backwards.

            The moment they moved, the wall exploded. Dust and debris fell from the newly formed hole, and the four peered through the dust cloud warily. (Y/N) relaxed and touched Spock’s hand as they felt a familiar aura.

            “What are you standing around for?” said Scotty, looking at them all incredulously. “Do you not know a jailbreak when you see one?”

            (Y/N), Kirk, and Bones grinned.

l

            “The bond between these four is strong…” said Sybok, frustrated. He walked with Sulu and several members of the Galactic Army of Light behind him through the brig towards his prisoners. “Difficult to penetrate. This will be quite a challenge.”

            Sulu nodded. “Kirk, Bones, and Spock are like brothers, and (L/N) is like a sibling to Kirk and Bones. Spock and (L/N) have the strongest bond, though. I don’t know if enlightenment will change that.”

            Sybok paused. “My brother has such a strong bond with another person?” He was surprised.

            Sulu nodded. “They’re married.”

            Interesting, thought Sybok. Perhaps he could use that.

            However, when the group rounded the corner, they found the cell their four prisoners were in empty, and a giant hole exposed their escape route.

            “We’ve got to find them!” exclaimed Sulu.

            Sybok certainly agreed.

l

            “So Sulu, Uhura, and Chekov are just…on Sybok’s side?” said (Y/N), frowning as they walked through the lower decks of the Enterprise.

            “Aye,” said Scotty. “I don’t know what he did to ‘em, but they’ll be searching for you once they find out you’ve escaped.”

            Kirk grimaced and nodded. “Thanks, Scotty.”

            Scotty shrugged. “It was no problem. I needed to find some people not on his side. We can’t trust anyone now.”

            “We need to send a distress signal,” said Kirk.

            “We’d never make it to the Bridge,” said Bones.

            “There is an emergency sending apparatus in the forward observation room,” said Spock.

            “The only trouble is, it’s up there, and we’re down here,” said Kirk.

            “You might be able to reach it by means of turboshaft number three, which is closed for repairs,” said Scotty. He shook his head. “It’s a long and dangerous climb,” he warned.

            Bones, (Y/N), and Spock looked slightly at Kirk.

            “Some of us get off on long and dangerous climbs,” said Bones sarcastically.

            Kirk decided not to respond to that comment. “Scotty, get the Transporter working. If we make contact with a rescue ship, we’ll need it.”

            “Aye, sir,” said Scotty, nodding.

            “Which way to the turboshaft?” asked (Y/N).

            Scotty paused at a crossroads in the lower decks and gestured down one hall. “Straight down that tunnel to the hydro vent and turn right, then left at the blowscreen. You can’t miss it.”

            “Mr. Scott, you’re amazing,” said Kirk, smiling.

            “Nothing amazing about it,” said Scotty. “I know this ship like I know the back of my hand.”

            He nodded goodbye to Kirk, Spock, (Y/N), and Bones as they stepped into the tunnel and continued their walk. They listened carefully for the sound of people, but with the twists and turns and pipes and wires, any sound could mean anything. The only choice was to keep going without looking back until they arrived at the turboshaft.

            Bones grimaced as he looked upwards at the high, high ceiling above them. The shaft went on forever, to every level of the Enterprise. (Y/N) knew they were in for a long, dangerous climb, just as Scotty warned.

            “Look at it this way,” said Kirk, knowing the thoughts of his companions. “We’ll get a good workout.”

            “Yeah,” scoffed Bones. “Or a heart attack.”

            Kirk grimaced and headed to the ladder, beginning the long climb. Bones clambered up after him in resignation. (Y/N) started up after him. Spock…walked out the door. The other three continued climbing, but as they reached Level 13, they were feeling the strain. (Y/N) paused and looked down, expecting to see Spock. When they didn’t, they frowned.

            “Captain!” said (Y/N).

            “Yes?” Kirk looked down.

            (Y/N) looked up. “Spock is gone—Oh!” They stared in surprise at Spock, floating down from above Kirk. “Never mind.” He had found his levitation boots again.

            Kirk and Bones looked up, and they were startled by the appearance of the Vulcan from above. Spock lowered down to (Y/N) and held out a hand.

            “I believe I have found a faster way,” he remarked.

            “I hope so,” said (Y/N), letting go with one hand from the ladder.

            Spock’s hand wound around their waist, and (Y/N) held onto his neck tightly. They balanced slightly on one of the boots, leaving room for Kirk and Bones. Spock flew a bit higher, and Bones stared.

            “Coming, Bones?” said (Y/N).

            “You two go ahead. I’ll catch the next car,” said Bones, staring.

            “We’re not splitting up,” said Kirk from above.

            Bones sighed and let Spock support him on his other side. Slower now, Spock floated up to Kirk and turned. Kirk got onto Spock’s back. Unfortunately, the group began to drift downwards, too heavy for the boots with four people.

            “It would appear we are too heavy,” observed Spock.

            “It’s all those marsh-melons,” said Kirk, sighing.

            Clanging echoed upwards, and the four looked down. Below them, getting ever-closer, was Sulu and several of Sybok’s followers. They stared up at the group, having caught up to their trail.

            “Spock, use the booster rockets,” urged (Y/N), knowing how strong those were on the boots.

            “If I activate them now, T’hy’la, we’ll be propelled upward at an unpredictable rate,” said Spock.

            “Fire the rockets!” ordered Kirk, holding on tight as they approached Sulu.

            Spock obeyed, and the jet of energy sent them flying upwards.

            “Captain! Please come back down!” shouted Sulu after them, emotions perfectly pleasant, though (Y/N) couldn’t trust it.

            They held on tight to Spock, and his arm around their waist tightened as they flew wildly up.

            “Hit the brakes!” shouted Kirk over the rushing wind.

            Spock stopped the booster rockets, and they slowed to a halt a few moments before they would have hit the top of the turboshaft. With their weight, they drifted slightly downwards, and Spock looked at Kirk.

            “Captain, I am afraid I overshot the mark by one level,” said Spock.

            Bones let out a breath of relief at having survived. “Nobody’s perfect.”

            “And we’re going down again,” said (Y/N) cheerfully as they floated vaguely down with their combined weight.

            Spock directed them to the side, and they landed on the proper level.

            “Good job,” said Kirk, nodding and leading the way out of the turboshaft.

            He crawled forward and stood in the hallway of the Enterprise. He warily looked around before nodding, and the other three followed him out. Fortunately, for once, the forward observation room wasn’t much farther down the hall, and the group crept through the dim lights of the currently unused corridor to the room. Bones turned on the light and closed the doors behind them while (Y/N) moved to the controls of the emergency sending apparatus to open a comms channel.

            “(Y/N)?” said Kirk.

            “Emergency channel open,” confirmed (Y/N), standing.

            Kirk nodded and wasted no time speaking. “To anyone hearing my voice, this is Captain James T. Kirk of the Federation Starship Enterprise. If you read me, acknowledge.” Nothing. “Acknowledge!” They needed someone to hear.

            “Enterprise, this is Starfleet Command,” said a voice finally. “We read you, over.”

            “A hostile force has taken control of our vessel and put us on a direct course to the Great Barrier,” said Kirk. “Our coordinates are 0-0-0, mark 2. Request emergency assistance. Acknowledge.”

            “Understood, Enterprise,” said Starfleet Command. “We are dispatching a rescue ship immediately.

            “Roger Starfleet,” said Kirk.

l

            In the Klingon Bird of Prey, the commander, Klaa, nodded as his second-in-command, Vixis, finished pretending to be Starfleet Command. “Plot course 0-0-0, mark 2,” he ordered in Klingon.

            “But, Captain, that course will take us into the Barrier as well,” said Vixis.

            “Where Kirk goes, we follow,” commanded Klaa.

l

            The moment Kirk finished his message, (Y/N) tensed. “Captain, people are approaching.” They felt calm, happy auras approaching and one intense, powerful one. Sybok and his followers.

            “We need to leave, now,” said Kirk, moving towards the door quickly.

            Too late. The doors slid open, and Sybok stood before them, expression as pleasant as ever. However, his emotions showed tremors of frustration. (Y/N), Bones, Spock, and Kirk were proving troublesome.

            Good, thought (Y/N).

            “I trust your message was received?” said Sybok.

            Kirk stood strong and stepped out from his friends. “You can’t expect us to stand by while you take this ship into the Great Barrier.”

            Sybok’s disappointment and frustration grew as he circled the group. “What you fear is the unknown. The people of your planet once believed their world was flat…Columbus proved it was round. They said the sound barrier could never be broken…It was broken. They said warp speed could not be achieved.” He gestured to the ship as evidence of falsehood there, too. “The Great Barrier is the ultimate expression of universal fear. It is an extension of personal fear.”

            Every word he spoke was meant to draw you in, to give logic to all of his actions. He knew how to speak to people, how to get them to listen. However, (Y/N) would not stand for it.

            “And yet you have committed acts of violence in this endeavor,” said (Y/N). “You’ve twisted the minds of people.” Sulu, Uhura…Maybe even Chekov and so many others. “That is wrong of you.”

            Sybok sighed and shook his head. “I so much want your understanding. I want your respect. Are you afraid to hear me out?”

            “We do not fear you and your ideas,” said (Y/N). “We dislike what you have done. There is a difference.”

            Sybok’s frustration was a soft quake in his aura, and (Y/N) kept a keen eye on it. However, instead of lashing out, Sybok turned to his companions. “Wait outside.” The members of the Galactic Army of Light walked out of the room, and the doors slid closed. Sybok looked back at his prisoners with a kind expression. “I’m sure you have many questions. Here, amid the stars of our galaxy, we shall seek the answers together.”

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[anonymousewrites]

One Hell of a Love (Book 3) Chapter Seventeen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Seventeen: One Hell of a Castle

Summary: The Emerald Castle has its share of characters and mysteries within.

            Wolfram, with Sieglinde perched in his arms, led the Phantomhive troupe through the town towards the looming castle.

            “They told us to leave then to stay the night,” said Ciel, keeping his voice low. “Really, what are they playing at?”

            “I cannot say,” said Sebastian. “But…” they entered another square where strange objects rested “something is clearly afoot in this village.”

            (Y/N) looked at the contraptions—strange to most but familiar to them. A cage of iron spikes. A tomb of sharp swords. A seat with iron blades. Paraphernalia of torture for witches.

            “What is this place?” said Mey-Rin, shivering.

            “You do realize it’s packed with instruments of torture?! says Wilde,” said Snake.

            “Those are instruments from the witch trials,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian’s eyes narrowed slightly. He, too, recognized the instruments. The reminder that they were what (Y/N) could have been tortured with as a witch made his protectiveness well up within him. He deeply desired a chance to rip the men that harmed them apart.

            “This is fast becoming outrageously occult for my tastes,” said Ciel.

            “Hey,” said Sieglinde, looking over Wolfram’s shoulder. “You there, little gnome.”

            (Y/N) smirked in amusement.

            “What’s your name?” asked Sieglinde, staring at Ciel.

            “Oh, dear, forgive us for not introducing ourselves sooner,” said Sebastian politely.

            “She is asking for your name,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m Ciel Phantomhive,” said Ciel.

            “How old are you?” asked Sieglinde.

            “Er ist dreizehn Jahre alt,” said Sebastian.

            “Hmm….” Sieglinde stared at him. Poor Ciel looked very confused.

l

            “This is the Emerald Castle,” said Wolfram.

            A beautiful garden filled with flowers, fountains, and creeping vines enclosed a beautiful, gothic castle. (Y/N) had never known a witch with a castle, but they could see that it would be a perfect place to study magic in.

            “Ooh, what a strange flower,” said Finny, kneeling.

            “Be careful,” said Sieglinde. “It’s poisonous. Your fingers will swell up if you touch it.”

            “R-Right,” said Finny, drawing his hand back.

            Swelling, hm? (Y/N) tilted their head, catlike as they noted the information.

            “This way,” said Wolfram as he carried Sieglinde up the stairs, lit by lanterns hanging from tree branches.

            “You wait here,” said (Y/N) to Snake, Baldroy, Finny, and Mey-Rin.

            “ ‘Kay!” said Finny, waiting in the foyer.

            Sebastian and (Y/N) accompanied Ciel to a dining room where Sieglinde was placed at the head of the table. She smiled at them.

            “You are our first guests in many year. Let us treat you to a special feast,” said Sieglinde.

            “We are much obliged,” said Sebastian.

            “Wolfram, make preparations,” ordered Sieglinde. “And show the servants to their rooms.”

            “Ja,” said Wolfram, walking out of the hall.

            An awkward silence descended. Sebastian and (Y/N) were servants, so they were going to begin conversation, Ciel didn’t speak very good German, and Sieglinde, their host, was not speaking.

            Finally, she cleared her throat. “You there.”

            “Oh—are you talking to me?” Ciel was unsure.

            “We apologize. The Young Master has not yet achieved an adequate grasp of German,” said (Y/N).

            “Is that so?” remarked Sieglinde.

            Silence fell again as no further attempt at communication was initiated by Sieglinde or Ciel. Ten minutes passed. Then twenty. Then thirty. One hour passed.

            Grooooowwwlllll

            Sieglinde’s stomach let out a tremendous growl of hunger. Not embarrassed in the slightest, she spoke. “That is my body’s signal demanding I ingest some sustenance.”

            “Herr Wolfram is delayed, it seems,” said (Y/N) as Sebastian checked his pocket watch.

            “Perhaps something untoward has taken place?” said Sebastian.

            “He is indeed later than usual,” said Sieglinde.

            An escape, thought (Y/N). “May we visit the kitchen?” They offered a pleasing smile. “Perhaps we can help him.”

            “You may,” said Sieglinde.

            Sebastian also perked up at the escape. Quickly, he headed to the door with (Y/N) beside him. “Well, then, excuse our brief absence.”

            Ciel looked at them in alarm as they left. “Wai—”

            (Y/N) and Sebastian were down the hall before the door closed.

l

            “What are your opinions so far?” said Sebastian.

            “On the witchcraft elements of this place?” said (Y/N), reading his meaning. “I’m not convinced. It’s all too…fairytale. Their amulets lack runes I recognize. That language is correct, but nothing makes words. None of the women sought to use magic against us, just weapons. It’s unusual to have a child in charge, as well. On top of that, it’s only women. Witches are not a gendered category.”

            “As you proved, I’m certain,” said Sebastian, smirking.

            “You know how I feel about rules,” said (Y/N), winking.

            “However, altogether, you are not convinced about the presence of magic,” said Sebastian.

            “Not entirely, no. These witches are unlike any coven I ever encountered or heard of,” said (Y/N). “It is possible they are witches, but I would want to see magic to confirm or deny it.”

            “I believe a healthy dose of suspicion in this land will come in useful either way,” said Sebastian.

            “Yes,” said (Y/N) as they arrived at the kitchen—their noses leading them to it.

            Sebastian pushed the door open. “Excuse me.”

            Wolfram looked up and huffed, “Was wollen Sie?” The words were clipped, harsh—even more than a typical German accent came off. Wolfram clearly disliked them. Or, well, Sebastian. He was avoiding eye-contact with (Y/N), the one he found attractive.

            “The cooking is taking quite some time, so we came to offer assistance,” said (Y/N).

            “All is well, danke,” said Wolfram. The “thank you” was just for (Y/N). “Your aid is not needed. I’ve just finished measuring the ingredients to the recipe’s specifications.”

            “I…see,” said Sebastian diplomatically, practiced in not judging humans (outwardly, anyways)—they were such strange creatures. “However, Lady Sullivan is complaining of intense hunger. I believe you should hurry.”

            “My lady said as much, did she?” said Wolfram, softening slightly. “No helping it, then. Lend me a hand.”

            “Certainly,” said Sebastian.

            “With pleasure,” said (Y/N).

            “I’m making maultaschen. Knead the bread dough for me, will you?” said Wolfram.

            (Y/N) and Sebastian exchanged looks. He was this far behind?

            “What is it?” said Wolfram.

            “Leave it to us,” said Sebastian, smiling as he shed his jacket.

            “Have you already prepared the soup?” said (Y/N), though they didn’t have much hope.

            “No?” Wolfram was confused by the suggestion. “I was planning on doing it after I’ve finished with this. It’s confusing to make both of them at once.”

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched. He is completely inefficient! “May we assist you with that as well?”

            “Sure,” said Wolfram, focusing on his meticulous—slow—measuring of ingredients.

            “At this rate, dinner will not be served until midnight,” said Sebastian lowly.

            “His strategy of doing one meal at a time is unique,” agreed (Y/N). “Frustratingly so.”

            “Yo, Sebastian, (Y/N)!” said Baldroy, walking in.

            He, Finny, and Mey-Rin smiled and said, “Anything we can to do he—”

            “No need,” said (Y/N) and Sebastian instantly.

            Sebastian fixed a pleasantly threatening expression on his face. “You must surely be tired from the long journey.”

            “Please, relax,” said (Y/N). “And do stay out of trouble.” They rolled up their sleeves. There was work to get done.

l

            “Maultaschen and wurst soup,” said Sebastian.

            “Eisbein of ham hock,” said (Y/N).

            “And for dessert, rote grutze,” said Sebastian, placing the dishes down on the table.

            Sieglinde stared at all the food, eyes wide at the smells. “This is a marvelous feast.” Her eyes sparkled with eager hunger. “Nicely done, Wolf.”

            Wolfram scratched the back of his neck. “Er, no, the butler and maid assisted me.”

            “You are allowing us to stay the night. We are merely repaying your hospitality,” said (Y/N) with a closed-eye smile.

            “We are servants of the Phantomhive house.” Sebastian smirked. “It goes without saying we can provide assistance of this level.”

            “Let’s have a taste,” said Siegelinde, digging in (quite literally).

            Despite being a liege, she lacks any human manners, thought (Y/N), raising a brow.

            “Mm, d’lish!” She spoke through a mouthful of food. “I’b neber had sush shoft bwead befowe!”

            “She…eats with such gusto…” said Ciel, disconcerted by facing a lady without manners. It was not what he was accustomed to.

            “She must be unassuming as a matter of principle,” remarked Sebastian.

            “She must not have schooling in human interaction, despite her age and status,” said (Y/N).

            “Well, what are witches to learn other than magic?” said Sebastian, smirking teasingly.

            “How to banish troublesome demons who make fun of them,” said (Y/N), smirking back at him.

            “Oh, dear, I must be careful,” said Sebastian, gaze sharp with attraction towards (Y/N)’s wittiness.

            Wham! The doors of the dining room flew open, and Hilde ran in, distress written into her features. “Herr Wolfram, it’s terrible!”

            “What is it, Hilde?!” questioned Wolfram, and Sieglinde looked up in concern.

            “The Wolfman has come!” cried Hilde.

            Ciel’s eyes widened, and (Y/N) and Sebastian glanced at each other. Had a supernatural enemy truly reared its head?

            “A woman has been hurt badly,” said Hilde. She bowed. “Mistress Sullivan, please save her!”

            “I’ll come right away,” said Sieglinde. “Wolf!”

            “Ja,” he said, picking her up. “You three wait here—”

            “Nein,” said Sebastian. They weren’t letting anything happen without a witness. “Please allow us to join you.”

            Wolfram’s eyes narrowed doubtfully, so (Y/N) spoke.

            “We want to learn about the menace that lurks in the forest so we can be safer ourselves,” said (Y/N).

            “Of course,” said Sieglinde, nodding.

l

            “Make way!” ordered Wolfram as he carried Sieglinde to the injured woman.

            (Y/N), Sebastian, and Ciel remained right on his heels to get a good look at the woman. She lay crying on a mat, dress torn at the back, bleeding from deep slashes.

            The injury is real, thought (Y/N).

            “What is this wound?” Sieglinde’s eyes widened. “This is the first time such a thing has happened. H-Herr Wolfman has never turned his claws upon the people of our village before…”

            “My lady, we must stop the bleeding,” said Wolfram, holding out a bottle.

            Sieglinde uncorked it and spoke to the woman. “This’ll hurt a bit.” She poured the liquid onto the injury, and the woman wailed at the sting of her wounds. Sieglinde bent her head and murmured quietly, speaking “magic” into existence.

            (Y/N)’s nose twitched at the harsh smell of the potion. Sebastian glanced at them and watched their gaze harden on Sieglinde. He knew demonic magic and had witnessed some witchcraft across the centuries, but they were the authority. He would question their opinion when they were alone.

            “Where is her amulet?” demanded Sieglinde, looking up and seeing nothing around the woman’s neck.     

            “She-she was going to pick some medicinal herbs nearby, so she left it behind,” said another village woman.

            “Fools!” admonished Sieglinde. “After I told you over and over to keep it close to you at all times, you still…” She shook her head.

            “He might still be nearby,” said Wolfram, taking charge. “Light all the torches.” The villagers began to spread out.

            “What do you think?” said Ciel quietly, looking at Sebastian and (Y/N).

            “That injury alone is not enough for us to go on,” said Sebastian. “(Y/N)?”

            “I felt no magic,” said (Y/N). “The bleeding has stopped, yes, though plenty of medicines are capable of treating bleeding wounds.”

            “You believe this is a farce?” said Ciel.

            “If it is, the Lady Sullivan believes in it,” said (Y/N). “That much is certain.” The way Sieglinde had concentrated on her spell work, despite the complete lack of similarity to any spell (Y/N) had heard, meant she believed she was truly accomplishing something.

            “So the question of what is going on remains,” said Ciel, narrowing his eyes. “I want to see this wolfman.”

            “Shall we try searching the forest?” said Sebastian.

            “Not now,” decided Ciel. “Avoid doing anything that would give them cause to distrust you.”

            “Tis the wrath o’ Herr Wolfman!” An old lady with bloated, wrinkled features hobbled forward, dressed raggedy robes and waving a walking stick. “Tis his wrath at having strangers intrude upon his forest! Begone, ye outlanders!”

            “It’s because she didn’t have her amulet!” said Sieglinde, a kinder host than any of the other villagers. Her youth and desire to know the world contrasted starkly with the age and jadedness of the other women. “If she had it with her, she wouldn’t have been attacked!”

            “Has Herr Wolfman ever before harmed us by his hand?!” demanded the old lady. “Protect the outlanders, would ye?! Well, Emerald Witch?!”

            Sieglinde’s eyes fell, and she shifted slightly. (Y/N) raised a brow. That was quite the audacity with which she spoke to the liege of the land, and a powerful wtich if the tales were true. It was disrespectful, unbecoming, and suspicious.

            “Lest ye forget, Emerald Witch, our ancestors suffered countless atrocities at the hands o’ folks from the outside!” The old lady glared and shouted further, voice raising into the branches of the forest. “Ye must never trust their ilk! Ye must never forget the grudge borne by our forebears! Ye must never forget the gratitude and awe we owe Herr Wolfman!”

            “But I—”

            The hag turned on the Phantomhive lord and servants. “Hear ye, foolish interlopers. Tis ye who have unleashed the fury of Herr Wolfman! Tis all your doing, swine! Yours! Swiiiiine!” She loomed over Ciel, and Sebastian and (Y/N) kept a close watch over her actions. “Get ye gone from here, posthaste! Lest ye be wanting Herr Wolfman to rend ye limb from limb!” She turned and tottered away, screeching warnings of the outside world and the wolfman all the while.

            “…” Wolfram looked at the villagers murmuring worriedly. “Stay inside until dawn.” That was all they could do for now. “It’s plain to all of you now, isn’t it? Don’t carelessly venture into the forest if you value your lives. Ever!”

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[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Five

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Five: Family Problem

Summary: The Enterprise crew meets the Galactic Army of Life, and some strange faces are among those, faces that people know.

            (Y/N) and Spock fired from behind their cover, letting Sulu ride forward towards the light exposing their locations. A cannon fired, and Sulu fell from his horse as it bucked. However, he rolled back to his feet, lifted his phaser, and fired. It hit the light, and it shattered in a burst of sparks. The streets of Paradise City were thrown back into the dim light of streetlights, allowing the shadows to give cover to the Starfleet officers.

            (Y/N) emerged from their hiding spot and grabbed several men before they could fire on their friends. The men let out shouts as pure terror ran through them, giving Spock an opportunity to stun them. The couple moved through the streets, using the cover of darkness to emerge and surprise their enemies with the same trap. And when certain people resisted the fear (Y/N) could cause in them, Spock moved in to give them a Vulcan Nerve Pinch. No one was harming (Y/N) if he could help it.

            “Uhura, come on down!” ordered Kirk over the pandemonium of shots and shouts.

            “Roger, coming in,” said Uhura from within the Galileo V. It lowered through the air, having finally arrived at Paradise City.

            A wild volley of shots landed near Spock and (Y/N)’s heads, and they ducked. Kirk fired from below the machine-phaser, and it hit. The sparks of it hit the sign of the saloon where the hostages were, and they exploded in light. Kirk ducked into the saloon while the battle continued outside.

            “Let’s get in,” said (Y/N) to Spock, nodding to the saloon.

            Spock nodded. Kirk couldn’t face every opponent within the saloon on his own. So, as darkness reigned, Spock and (Y/N) snuck to the building. Kirk turned to face them and nodded.

            From a corner, Korrd, Caithlin, and Talbot emerged. Kirk stepped towards them, and Spock followed, but (Y/N) grabbed Spock’s hand and pulled him back. They felt no relief from the three in front of them. They were…calm and a little nervous.

            “Thank god,” said Kirk.

            “Captain—” began (Y/N) warily.

            “Please cooperate.” Caithlin held up a phaser and pointed it at the group. Korrd followed suit.

            Kirk’s eyes widened, and Spock furrowed his brow, pushing (Y/N) behind him more.

            “Would you mind handing over your weapons?” said Talbot.

            We walked right into a trap, thought (Y/N). They had been right; this Vulcan possessed intelligence and a plan. The Enterprise officers were now prisoners.

l

            The prisoners of the Galactic Army of Light were marched through the streets of Paradise City towards the leader—the Vulcan. He was beaming around at his companions from the steps of Galileo V, waves of warmth radiating from his aura. It honestly threw (Y/N) off to feel so much from a Vulcan.

            “Well done, my friends!” he said, smiling.

            The crowd cheered for him and jeered at the prisoners as they were walked to the shuttle. As the Vulcan’s eyes landed on Spock, his eyes widened, and he pointed at him. Quickly, he descended to the street and walked towards the group. He paused before them, and he and Spock stared at one another.

            “Qual se tu?” said Spock. Who art thou?

            “Spock!” said the Vulcan, smiling widely. “Spock, it’s me! It’s Sybok.” He was sincerely happy to see Spock, which made (Y/N) frown. This was definitely an odd Vulcan and an odd man, period. “After all these years, you’ve finally caught up with me.” He held Spock’s shoulders and paused when he didn’t respond. Spock stepped back, out of his arms’ reach and back to (Y/N)’s side. “Don’t you have anything to say to me?”

            Spock straightened. “You are under arrest for seventeen violations of the Neutral Zone Treaty.”

��           Sybok burst out laughing. “Spock! You’ve developed a sense of humor after all.”

            (Y/N) frowned. Spock had a sense of humor. It was just a very Vulcan one.

            “It was not my intention to amuse you,” said Spock firmly. “These are serious charges. However, if you surrender now—”

            Sybok shook his head in disappointment. “I’m sorry, Spock, I can’t surrender now. I’m not through violating the Neutral Zone Treaty. In fact, I’m just getting started.” The crowd chuckled, and (Y/N) narrowed their eyes. “And for my next violation, I intend to steal something…something very big.” He looked at Spock intently. “I must have your starship.”

            “You staged all this to get your hands on my ship?” said Kirk, bewildered and angry.

            Sybok furrowed his brow. “Who are you?”

            “James T. Kirk,” said Kirk. “Captain of the Enterprise.”

            “But I thought Captain Chekov…” Sybok trailed off and smiled while nodding. “I see…Very clever, Captain.” He looked back to Spock. “Spock, it would appear you’ve been given a second chance to join me. What do you say?”

            Spock gaze remained level. “I am Starfleet officer.”

            “Of course.” Sybok was only a little disappointed. “Of course. Then I’ll take the ship without your help.”

            The crowd cheered, and (Y/N) looked at the violently joyous emotions around them. Just what does Sybok want that these people are so eager to follow him?

            “Now, to the Enterprise!” declared Sybok, and his followed grinned while pushing their prisoners forward.

            (Y/N) exchanged a glance with Spock. This wasn’t good, not at all.

l

            Talbot paced before the prisoners, and (Y/N) watched his emotions carefully. He was…happy. That was it. Barely any fluctuations, which made (Y/N) suspicious of what had happened before they had arrived.

They glanced at Sybok. What is he up to? What has he done? What does he plan? Questions circled in their head.

            “Once we’ve taken control of you vessel, we’ll bring up the rest of our followers,” said Talbot. He was completely on Sybok’s side, just as Korrd and Caithlin were.

            “Klingons are out there,” said Kirk grimly to his companions. “We’ll be lucky to get the ship back ourselves.”

            “Galileo, this is Enterprise,” said Chekov’s voice across the comms, and a warning look from Talbot told the Enterprise crew to remain silent. “Red Alert. Bird of Prey approaching, cloaked. Raising shields.” A pause. “Recommend Galileo find safe harbor until situation secure. Acknowledge.”

            “No!” ordered Sybok before anyone could open a communication channel. “No reply. Remain on course.”

            “Sybok, listen to me,” said Kirk, trying to reason with him. “In order for this craft to enter the landing bay, Enterprise must lower the shields and activate the tractor beam. To bring us inside and then re-raise the shields will take…” He looked at Spock.

            “Exactly 15.5 seconds,” said Spock.

            Kirk nodded. “An eternity during which we’ll be vulnerable to Klingon attack.”

            “General Korrd, you know Klingon strategy. You know it’s true,” said (Y/N), appealing to fact.

            Korrd nodded and looked at Sybok. “They speak the truth. If my people are cloaked, they intend to strike.”

            “We cannot turn back,” said Sybok stubbornly.

            “You must allow us to act,” said Spock.

            “Let me do something,” said Kirk.

            Sybok gazed at him in assessment. “Very well. Do what you must…but no more.” The warning was clear.

            Kirk nodded and stepped forward to the comms. “Enterprise, this is Kirk. Understand your situation. Are unable to return to planet. Stand by to execute…Emergency Landing Plan B.” He paused. “B as in ‘Barricade.’ ”

            The comms channel was switched off, and Sybok looked at Kirk for explanation.

            “What are you doing?” he said.

            “In order to lower and raise shields as quickly as possible, we’re going to forego the tractor beam and fly her in manually,” said Kirk.

            “Manually?” repeated Bones incredulously.

            Sybok leaned in. “How often have you done this?”

            Sulu looked up at Kirk and then Sybok. “Actually, it’s my first attempt.”

            Sybok raised a brow—it reminded (Y/N) of Spock—and looked at Kirk.

            “He’s good…Really,” said Kirk. He opened comms again. “Scotty, on my mark, open bay doors.” He paused as Galileo V flew closer to the hull of the Enterprise. “Kirk to Scotty…Lower shields!”

            “Lowering shields,” confirmed Scotty.

            “Bird of Prey bearing 105 Mark 2,” said Uhura quietly.

            “Go, Sulu,” said Kirk.

            Sulu was intensely focused on his task at hand and directed the shuttle into the landing bay. They bumped against the floor, skidding towards the wall. Everyone within the shuttle jerked, and Spock quickly held (Y/N) around the waist to steady them instead of letting them fall. Everyone tensed as they careened towards a wall, but a large net, courtesy of Scotty, sprung up across their path. The Galileo V hit it and slowed to a stop a moment before hitting the wall. The violent stopped sent everyone falling to the ground, and (Y/N) groaned as they sat up. These missions always ended in at least bruises, that was certain.

            They lifted their head and saw Sybok reaching for a weapon. They moved to grab it, but Sybok’s hand closed around it first. Abruptly, Spock pulled (Y/N) back to prevent Sybok from turning the phaser on them.

            Sybok pointed the phaser at Kirk as he came to. “We must change course at once.”

            Kirk looked at the phaser and then at his friends. He wouldn’t risk their lives. “I’ll take you to the Bridge.”

            He stood, and Sybok followed him to the door of the Galileo. It opened, and as other people began to stand, (Y/N) moved to the exit to get after Kirk and Sybok.

            The moment Kirk stepped to the shuttlebay floor, he turned and hit Sybok. The Vulcan stumbled back, and Kirk lunged to grab the weapon. Sybok grabbed him and threw him up against another shuttle. (Y/N) ran down and shoved Sybok away from Kirk, and Sybok whirled on them. He lunged, and (Y/N) dodged to the side. Kirk hit Sybok, and Sybok grabbed him, throwing him against a wall. Kirk hit the ground, and (Y/N) pulled him up as Sybok advanced again. At the same time, (Y/N) kicked the phaser away, leaving them with just fists, but at least Sybok didn’t have a weapon, either.

            It slid to a stop at Spock’s feet. At that moment, Sybok got ahold of Kirk, and (Y/N) gasped as Sybok’s hands closed around Kirk’s neck. They froze. Vulcan strength could snap his neck in a moment; they dared not move any closer.

            “Spock! Pick it up!” said Kirk, voice strangled as he saw the phaser at Spock’s feet.

            Spock picked up the phaser and leveled it at Sybok, who let go of Kirk and stared at him. “Sybok,” said Spock. “You must surrender.”

            “No!” declared Sybok, walking towards Spock.

            (Y/N) tensed. If he tried to hurt Spock, (Y/N) would do anything to stop him.

            “You must kill me,” said Sybok. He stood before Spock, intentionally pressing the end of the phaser rifle into his chest. It was a challenge.

            “Shoot him!” said Kirk, coughing as he stood.

            But (Y/N) knew Spock would not. To take another life like this, Sybok defenseless…Spock could not. It was not who he was; it was not what Vulcans stood for, either.

            Sybok snatched the phaser back. Kirk’s eyes widened, and Spock looked at (Y/N), fearing their disappointment. (Y/N) shook their head. They wished he would have done something else, but they wouldn’t wish for him to commit an act that would against who he was. (Y/N) respected Spock too much to be angry at that.

            “For a moment…I thought you might actually do it,” said Sybok, searching Spock’s gaze as if trying to understand his thoughts. Spock’s expressionless face did not give a hint to his mind, though.

            Behind Spock, Bones was pulled from the shuttle, restrained by a member of the Galactic Army of Light. Sybok nodded to his compatriot.

            “Put him in the brig with Captain Kirk and…” Sybok looked at (Y/N). They remained silent. He could figure out their name from ship records if he wanted it. They weren’t offering it until he learned some respect and stopped holding people they cared about at phaser-point. “The Celian commander.” Sybok looked at Spock. “Spock, you will accompany me…to the Bridge?” Yet again, it was an offer for Spock to remain by his side. Clearly, in Spock’s youth, they had known one another.

            “No, I will not,” said Spock. He may be unwilling to kill Sybok, but his loyalty would always be with his spouse and his friends.

            Sybok leaned forward slightly. “You know I’m right.”

            Spock didn’t agree with whatever that meant and remained silent.

            “Then you must join them,” said Sybok, sighing in disappointment and nodding to Kirk, (Y/N), and Bones.

            (Y/N) furrowed their brow as they were escorted away. They looked back at where Sybok stood with various security officers from the Strike Team, Sulu, and Uhura.

            What is he going to do with them? thought (Y/N). And, more importantly, would it have the same result as Talbot, Korrd, and Caithlin’s changes in loyalty?

l

            “Dammit. God dammit, Spock!” said Kirk, instantly turning on Spock the moment the energy field closed them within the cell. His anger was red-hot around (Y/N), and they stepped back. Bones was equally angry.

            Spock tried to speak. “Captain, what I have done—”

            “What you have done is betray every officer on this ship!” snapped Kirk.

            “Worse,” said Spock. He would not pretend he had made the best decision. He had merely made the decision he could. “I have betrayed you.” He looked at (Y/N). “And you.” He turned back to Kirk. “I do not expect you to forgive me.”

            “Forgive you? I ought to knock you on your ass!” exclaimed Kirk, glaring.

            “If you think that would help,” said Spock, ready to allow it.

            “You want me to hold him, Jim?” said Bones.

            “No one’s hitting anyone,” said (Y/N) quickly, stepping between them.

            “You stay out of this!” said Kirk to Bones and (Y/N). He looked imploringly at Spock. “Why, Spock? Why? All you had to do was pull the trigger.”

            “If I had pulled the trigger, Sybok would be dead,” said Spock, simple and straightforward.

            “I ordered you to defend your ship,” said Kirk.

            “You ordered me to kill my brother,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) paused. Wait…

            Kirk barely contained a groan. “The man may be a fellow Vulcan, but that doesn’t—”

            “You do not understand me, Captain,” interrupted Spock. “Sybok, also, is a son of Sarek.”

            There was a pause, and everyone stared at Spock.

            “You mean he’s your brother brother?” said Kirk. Spock nodded. “You made that up.” Kirk couldn’t believe it.

            “I did not,” said Spock.

            (Y/N) put a hand to their chin as they thought.

            “You did too,” said Kirk. “Sybok couldn’t possibly be your brother because I happen to know for a fact that you don’t have a brother.”

            “Technically, you are correct,” said Spock. “I do not have a brother.”

            “You see?” said Kirk proudly, looking at (Y/N) and Bones.

            “I have a half-brother,” said Spock, finishing his thought.

            Kirk immediately deflated. “I gotta sit down.” He sat. He looked at (Y/N). “Did you know about this?”

            “Spock has told me about his half-brother, but from the little I’d heard, I thought he was studying on another planet or dead,” said (Y/N), shrugging.

            “And you didn’t ask?” said Kirk.

            “It would have been rude,” said (Y/N).

            “Thank you for considering my feelings, but it is unnecessary, T’hy’la,” said Spock.

            “I will always consider them,” responded (Y/N), smiling.

            Kirk buried his head in his hands. His crew was insane and treating this conversation so normally.

            “Let me get this straight,” said Bones, trying to make sense of the situation. “You and Sybok have the same father but different mothers.”

            “Exactly, that is correct,” said Spock, nodding. “Sybok’s mother was a Vulcan princess. After her death, Sybok and I were raised as brothers.”

            “Why didn’t you tell us this before?” said Kirk incredulously.

            “I was not disposed to discuss matters of such a personal nature with those beyond my family,” said Spock. “For that, I am sorry.”

            “He’s sorry,” groaned Kirk. “He’s sorry, and that makes everything alright. I’m sorry—”

            “Stop it, Captain,” said (Y/N) firmly before Kirk could continue spiraling. “Spock could no more kill his own brother than he could kill you or me.”

            Spock looked at (Y/N). They understood, and he was thankful for it. Every day, his t’hy’la reminded him of why he loved them.

            “If you want to punish him for what he’s done, why don’t you throw him in the brig?” said Bones. Kirk had to admit (Y/N) and Bones had points, there. “Besides, we got bigger problems to deal with. Like how the hell do we get out of here?” Speech over, Bones looked at Spock. “I’ll say one thing, Spock, you never cease to amaze me.” Bones might think it was understandable what he’d done, but the rest of the situation—not telling your friends you have a brother—was still crazy.

            Spock looked at Bones. “Nor I myself,” he admitted.

            Kirk sighed.

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[anonymousewrites]

Nobody's Soldier Teaser 2

Season Four Episodes Being Covered:

(Not all episodes can be included for time)

Episode 1: Lazarus Rising

Episode 2: Are You There God? It's Me, Dean Winchester

Episode 4: Metamorphosis

Episode 7: It's the Great Pumpkin, Sam Winchester

Episode 9: I Know What You Did Last Summer

Episode 10: Heaven and Hell

Episode 12: Criss Angel is a Douchebag

Episode 13: After School Special

Episode 15: Death Takes a Holiday

Episode 16: On the Head of a Pin

Episode 18: The Monster at the End of the Book

Episode 19: Jump the Shark

Episode 20: The Rapture

Episode 21: When the Levee Breaks

Episode 22: Lucifer Rising

Let me know what you guys want to see next as a teaser! (I'm thinking of a playlist...but the cover would end up having how I imagine Indigo, so let me know if that's okay or if it throws people off)

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[anonymousewrites]

Logos and Pathos (Book 4) Chapter Twenty-Four

TOS! Spock x Empath! Spouse! Reader

Chapter Twenty-Four: Family Past

Summary: Someone is taking over a planet, and Spock seems to know him.

            The turbolift door opened partially before stalling. Kirk pushed it farther open and squeezed through. (Y/N) and Spock slipped through behind him as Kirk grumbled.

            “Doesn’t anything work this ship?” said Kirk as they entered the Bridge.

            “Starfleet’s got some nerve sending us out in this condition,” grumbled Bones, squeezing his way through the doors. “Why, the ship’s a virtual ghost town.”

            “Captain,” said Uhura, already at her station. “Starfleet transmission online.”

            “Put it on the viewscreen, if you please,” said Kirk, sitting in the captain’s chair. The picture appeared, blurred and static-y. “Can we a have a little quiet, please? Can you clear that up? Can we have a little quiet?” Slowly, the clamor and static quieted into a murmur, and the viewscreen displayed a crisp picture. “Bob?”

            Admiral Bennett nodded to Kirk. “Jim? Well, we’re dressing informally, aren’t we?”

            Kirk smiled amiably. “You caught me on my way to the shower.”

            “I apologize for cancelling shore leave, but, look, we have a dangerous situation on Nimbus III,” said Bennett.

            “On the ‘Planet of Galactic Peace?’ ” said Kirk, raising a brow.

            I’ve read of its reputation. I wonder if it lives up to it, thought (Y/N).

            The Federation, Klingon Empire, and Romulans had, after the war, worked together to supposedly develop the planet, or so the reports said. Reality and reports were rarely in conjunction, even in the Federation that sought to do good. Some people were corrupt no matter the situation. Not to mention, the Federation working with its long-time enemies to any degree was a surprise, though one (Y/N) hoped would lead to a new era of peace for the galaxy.

            “The same,” confirmed Bennett. “From what we can make out, a terrorist force has captured the only settlement, and they’ve taken hostages. The Klingon, the Romulan, and the Federation consultants. Now I know Enterprise is not exactly up to specs…”

            “With all due respect, the Enterprise is a disaster,” said Kirk. He loved his ship, but it was true for the moment. “There must be other ships in the quadrant.”

            “Other ships, yes, but no experienced commanders,” said Bennett. “Captain…I need Jim Kirk.” He left no room for argument. “Your orders are to proceed to Nimbus III, assess the situation, and avoid confrontation if possible. Above all, however, are get those hostages back safely.”

            “Have the Klingons responded?” asked Kirk.

            “No, but you can bet they will,” said Bennett, grimacing.

            “Understood. Kirk out.” The viewscreen turned off. “Plot course to Nimbus III, Mr. Sulu.”

            “Aye, sir. Course plotted.” Sulu knew they weren’t going to refuse.

            “I’m afraid the ship’s problems will have to be solved en route,” said Kirk to the comms. The entire ship could hear his words, and Kirk wanted to ensure they understood their situation and their mission. “Since we’re undermanned, I’m counting on each one of you to give his best. End of speech.” He closed the comms and looked at his Bridge. “Let’s go to work.”

            “Jim, if you ask me—and you haven’t—I think this is a terrible idea. We’re bound to bump into the Klingons, and they don’t exactly like you,” said Bones. “Or any of us on this crew.”

            “The feeling’s mutual,” said Kirk. “Engine room.”

            “Scotty here,” said Scotty.

            “We’ll need all the power you can muster, Mr. Scott,” said Kirk.

            “Don’t you worry, Captain,” said Scotty confidently. “We’ll beat those Klingon devils even if I have to get out and push.”

            Kirk smiled slightly. “I hope it won’t come to that, Mr. Scott. All possible speed, Mr. Sulu.”

            “Aye, sir,” said Sulu.

            “What’s the matter, Captain?” said (Y/N) as Kirk shifted in his seat.

            “I miss my old chair,” sighed Kirk.

            “We’ll put it on Scotty list of fixes,” said (Y/N), and Kirk smiled.

            “And for your list, while we’re flying, get me information on the hostages,” said Kirk. “I want to know everything I can about this situation.”

            “Yes, Captain,” said (Y/N), turning to their station and sending out requests for the information.

            Then, they and the rest of the camping group got up and made the smart decision to shower and change. They would need to be in top condition for the mission ahead. Once (Y/N) sat back down, they finally were beamed the information Kirk wanted.

           “Captain, we’re receiving the hostage information you requested,” reported (Y/N).

            “Put it on the screen,” said Kirk, and (Y/N) showed it.

            An information card appeared onscreen, and everyone’s eyes widened. It was a Klingon with a familiar name and familiar features.

            “Not General Korrd!” said Kirk, eyes wide. Surprise reverberated around the Bridge.

            “The same,” remarked Spock. “He has apparently fallen out of favor of the Klingon High Command.”

            “General Korrd’s military strategies were required learning when I was a cadet at the Academy,” said Kirk, staring at the screen. “When they put me out to pasture, I hope I fare better than Korrd.”

            Another card appeared to display a woman named “Caithlin Dar,” a Romulan. Finally, Talbor, a human, appeared. Three representatives, three hostages.

            The screen blurred before displaying a film.

            “This must be a hostage tape,” said Bones, furrowing his brow.

            Caithlin spoke first. “A short time ago we surrendered ourselves to the forces of the Galactic Army of Light. At this moment, we are in their protective custody. Their leader assures us that we will be treated humanely as long as we cooperate with his friends.” She spoke with worry and yet some degree of belief in her words. “I believe his sincerity. He requests that you send a Federation starship to parlay for our release at once. Be assured we are in good health and would appreciate your immediate response.”

            The camera panned down to a man in white. (Y/N) furrowed their brow and leaned in. Pointed ears could be seen in the static. This man was either Romulan or Vulcan. They paused and looked at Spock, who stared at the screen. Shock reverberated through their bond, strong and telling. Spock knew this Vulcan.

            “I deeply regret this desperate act, but these are desperate times,” said the Vulcan. “I have no desire to harm these innocents, but do not put me to the test. I implore you…I implore you to respond immediately.” His cadence lacked the emotionless quality of most Vulcans, but the word choice was intentional, clearly decided on. That was Vulcan, and that meant whatever situation they were flying towards was, if illogical, logically handled. This Vulcan undoubtedly had a plan.

            “Spock,” said (Y/N), looking at him. “Who is he?”

            “Someone I believed I would never see again, if it is who I suspect,” said Spock.

            Kirk and Bones exchanged looks before looking to (Y/N) to speak.

            “Shall we find a place to speak?” said (Y/N), rising and looking at the three.

            “Yes,” said Kirk, standing.

            Spock rose and stepped to (Y/N)’s side. At least he had them, no matter who this ended up being. And what a person it could be…

l

            “Spock, do you know this Vulcan?” asked (Y/N), laying their hand on Spock’s arm supportively.

            Spock paused before responding. “I cannot be sure.”

            “But he seems familiar,” said (Y/N).

            Spock inclined his head. “He reminds me of someone I knew in my youth.”

            “Why, Spock, I didn’t know you had one,” said Bones, raising spirits from the tension that had settled over them.

            “I do not often think of the past,” said Spock.

            “Who is it he reminds you of?” asked Kirk, furrowing his brow.

            “There was a young student, exceptionally gifted, possessing great intelligence. It was assumed that one day he would take his place amongst the great scholars of Vulcan,” said Spock. “But he was a revolutionary.”

            “What do you mean?” said Kirk.

            “The knowledge and experience he sought were forbidden on Vulcan,” said Spock.

            “Forbidden?” said (Y/N).

            “He rejected his logical upbringing,” said Spock. “He embraced the animal passions of our ancestors.”

            The emotions that almost led to Vulcan’s ruin, thought (Y/N).

            “He believed that the key to self-knowledge was emotion, not logic,” said Spock.

            “Imagine that,” said Bones. “A passionate Vulcan.”

            “When he encouraged others to follow him, he was banished from Vulcan, never to return,” said Spock.

            “Fascinating,” said Kirk.

            “I wonder what his reasons for taking hostages on Nimbus III could be,” said (Y/N). “If he seeks self-knowledge, then it seems counterproductive to do something that will get you sent to jail.

            “Well, he may not be logical, you know,” said Bones.

            “Mm.” (Y/N) believed this Vulcan was intelligent, though. And that meant plans.

            “Captain to Bridge,” called Uhura over the comms.

            “On my way,” replied Kirk, heading to the door with Bones and (Y/N).

            (Y/N) paused as Spock stared out the window, deep in thought. “Spock?”

            “Coming, T’hy’la,” said Spock, moving closer to them.

l

            The group reentered the Bridge, and Sulu turned in his chair to address them.

            “Approaching Nimbus III,” he reported.

            “Hailing frequencies open,” said Uhura as (Y/N) sat beside her.

            “Standard orbit, Mr. Sulu,” said Kirk, sitting down.

            “Captain, we’re receiving a transmission from Paradise City,” said (Y/N), looking to Kirk. “They demand to know our intentions.”

            “Respond with static,” ordered Kirk, and (Y/N) nodded. “Let them think we’re having difficulty. It wouldn’t be far from the truth.”

            “Paradise City, can you boost your power? We are barely receiving transmission,” said Uhura, adding to the ploy.

            “Transporter Room, status,” said Kirk.

            “Scotty here, Captain,” said Scotty. “Transporter still inoperative. Even if we could lock on to the hostages, we could’na beam ‘em up.”

            Kirk nodded, frustrated but not to be defeated. “Then we’ll have to get them the old-fashioned way.”

            “Klingon vessel now entering airspace,” said Spock, turning form his scans. “Bird of Prey. Estimating 1.9 hours until her weapons come to bear.”

            “Damn,” cursed Kirk. He stood. “Let’s go.” There was no hesitation from Sulu, Uhura, (Y/N), and Spock as they followed him. “Chekov, you have the conn. Keep anyone from getting hurt, if you can.”

            “Aye, Captain,” said Chekov.

            Together, the landing/rescue party grabbed a few more security officers, headed to the shuttlebay, reboarded Galileo V to fly down to Nimbus III.

            “What’s the status of their equipment?” said Kirk as they lowered through the atmosphere.

            “Their scanning equipment is primitive but effective,” reported Spock. “I recommend we land at coordinates 8-5-6-3.”

            “That puts us pretty far away from Paradise City,” said (Y/N).

            “To land any closer would be to risk detection,” said Spock, and (Y/N) nodded in understanding.

            “Mr. Sulu, execute,” said Kirk.

            “Aye, sir,” said Sulu, flying them towards the coordinates. The desert spread out below, and they landed softly in the sand. The moon hung high in the sky as the night sky spread out above.

            The officers left the ship and headed to crouch behind sand dunes, and Kirk, Spock, (Y/N) looked out at Paradise City in the distance.

            “At footspeed, I estimate the journey to Paradise City at 1.2 hours,” said Spock.

            “We don’t have 1.2 hours,” said Kirk, frowning and looking around. He brightened as he spotted an encampment with horses and rebels. “Wait—the horses. But we’ll have to get their attention…”

            (Y/N) smiled. “Uhura and I can handle that.”

            Spock and Kirk looked at them. (Y/N) smiled innocently before turning around.

            “Oh, Uhura, how do you like captive audiences?”

            Uhura grinned, and Spock and Kirk exchanged looks. Spock shrugged. His spouse always managed to surprise him, even this many years into their marriage and relationship.

l

            A few minutes later, Uhura was dancing with two palm fronds against the moon, whistling for the rebels’ attention. As she shook her hips and twirled, she appeared naked, successfully creating a distraction.

            “What…Is she naked?” said the rebel, eyes widening beside his companions.

            “Hello, boys!” called Uhura.

            Instantly, all the men ran for the sand dunes, eager to get closer to the beautiful woman.

            “Now, now,” said (Y/N), appearing beside Uhura.

            The men’s eyes widened at the equally attractive individual who leaned down towards them and cupped their faces.

            “It’s rude to interrupt a performance.”

            (Y/N)’s golden eyes flashed in the moonlight, and pure fear ran through the group as their bodies, pressed together, allowed (Y/N) to use empathy on all of them at once. The group jerked back, several fell unconscious, and others rolled down the sand dune. Instantly, the Federation officers appeared on either side of Uhura and (Y/N) with phasers drawn. They had the men pinned.

            “Captain, I believe the horses are ours,” said (Y/N), smiling.

            Kirk looked at the unconscious men, impressed. “I always forget it’s important to not upset you.”

            “I’m happy to remind you,” said (Y/N) cheerfully.

            “That was a good plan,” said Spock, nodding.

            “Thanks, Spock,” said (Y/N), brightening at the compliment.

            “Now, let’s not waste any more time,” said Kirk, moving to the horses.

            “Wait,” said Uhura, grabbing some scarves and cloaks from the rebels. “Disguise yourself.”

            “Good point,” said Kirk.

            “What would we do without you?” said (Y/N), smiling at their friend.

            “Who knows?” said Uhura, winking.

l

            The Starfleet officers thundered across the desert of Nimbus III towards the lights of Paradise City.

            “Open the gates, it’s our lookout party!” called a guard as they approached.

            Uhura’s disguises worked, thought (Y/N).

            “Federation soldiers are right behind us!” said Kirk as they galloped through the gates. “Close the gate!”

            The guards nodded and looked back out at the desert with weapons draw while the real Federation officers slipped from their horses and moves farther into the city center.

            “Where are they?” wondered a guard.

            “We need to move quickly,” murmured (Y/N). “They’re nervous, but it will turn into suspicious soon.”

            “Hold your horse, T’hy’la,” said Spock, and Kirk fought not to laugh. “I am scanning…” He nodded to a building. “The hostages are being held in that structure.”

            Kirk opened his communicator. “Galileo, this is Strike Team. Start your run…”

            Abruptly, the light of the guard tower turned on the Strike Team, and (Y/N) tensed as suspicion turned on them. Their disguises had only worked for so long, and now the jig was up.

            “Phasers on stun!” shouted Kirk. “Get rid of the mounts! Sulu, take out that light! Get to the hostages! Take out the guards!”

            (Y/N) slipped from their horse, and Spock was already waiting to pull them to cover. Together, they withdrew their phasers. It was time for a battle.

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One Hell of a Love (Book 4) Chapter Sixteen

Sebastian Michaelis x Demon! Reader

Chapter Sixteen: One Hell of a Wood

Summary: The Phantomhive lord and servants venture into Germany and a strange wood.

            “I…am…plea-pleased to-to…meet you…”

            (Y/N) lifted a gloved hand to smother a chuckle at Ciel’s terrible German.

            “That will never do,” said Sebastian. “You are stressing the wrong syllables.”

            Ciel groaned and flopped over on his train. “I give up. Reading on the train makes me sick.”

            “You simply lack discipline,” sighed Sebastian.

            “German pronunciation is impossible,” huffed Ciel. “Being able to read it is enough.”

            “You won’t get far with that attitude,” remarked (Y/N).

            Ciel scowled.

l

            On the outskirts of Nuremberg, Ciel, (Y/N), and Sebastian attempted to buy passage to the Werewolves’ Forest. Unfortunately, two obstacles stood in their way. First, the strong dialect prevented Ciel was understanding a thing. Second, no one wanted to go near the cursed land.

            “Sebastian, what language are they speaking?” said Ciel, looking around at the people.

            “East Franconian. It is a southern German dialect,” said Sebastian.

            “The dialect is too strong! My studies were practically useless!” cried Ciel.

            “The fundamentals are important,” said (Y/N), smirking.

            Ciel grumbled. “What is he saying?”

            (Y/N) listened to the cart driver. “He is saying, ‘I ain’t gonna go bite it from the Witch’s Curse. No thanks. Dun matter how much you got. No’s a no.’ ”

            An irk mark appeared on Ciel’s forehead as (Y/N) mimicked the accent. “Has he seen an accursed human?”

            “Have you seen one of these cursed humans?” asked Sebastian.

            “I sure did!” said the driver. “They looked somethin’ awful. Their faces were swollen to twice their normal size. And their skin looked like it’d melted into a thick mud. One died right off. The other lived, but word has it he went nuts from the shock.”

            “The other survived?” said (Y/N).

            “Ja,” was the answer. “He was all shook up with fear and kept screamin’, ‘The Wolfman’s Coming!’ ”

            “So where is he now?” inquired Sebastian.

            “He’s the eldest son of the Briegel family, rich folk who live on the outskirts of this village, but he’s gone now. The government came ‘n took him away to some big hospital in case whatever he had caught could spread, and they took the dead ‘un, too.”

            “So?” said Ciel.

            “There was a survivor,” said (Y/N). “But he continued to claim a wolfman was coming, and the government ultimately took him away.” Likely, the survivor was dead by now.

            “So he’s seen the wolfman?” said Ciel, narrowing his eyes.

            “Would you like to attempt to find him?” said Sebastian. He exchanged a look with (Y/N). He, too, suspected that if the government took him and was refusing to share information that he was dead.

            “No need. There isn’t any point in speaking to a madman,” said Ciel. “We should go at once to this Werewolves’ Forest ourselves.”

            “However, the man refuses to take us in his carriage no matter how much we offer,” said Sebastian.

            Ciel smirked. “Then ask him how much the carriage costs.”

l

            “S-So this is the Werewolves’ Forest.” Mey-Rin shivered. “It’s creepy.”

            “Man, I get why people say it’s cursed,” said Baldroy, looking around at the dark trees and mist clinging to the branches. It blocked out the sun, bathing them in shadows.

            At the front of the cart, (Y/N) raised a brow. “The compass is beginning to drift.”

            Ciel tsked. “It may just be that mineral resources are buried around here.”

            Sebastian smirked. “It may just as easily be a cursed.”

            Ciel scoffed. “I can’t believe—”

            “It amuses me that you refuse to believe in curses when you have two demons as servants and have come eye-to-eye with Grim Reapers,” said Sebastian. “Moreover, that which binds you and I is also a curse of sorts.”

            Ciel crossed his arms. “However, witches were humans falsely accused at ridiculous trials. They didn’t fly in the sky or create storms.”

            (Y/N) hummed. “Young Master, I can assure you that witches do exist. Admittedly, most do not have that power, but there are always exceptions. Curses and magic are very much real.” They looked at him, and Ciel saw the look of fire in their eyes, and the memory of their cinematic record popped up. He swallowed. “Never forget that all manner of beings haunt the night.” They smiled with their eyes closed, and Ciel grimaced at the expression. “However, you are correct that most of the accusations were false. Humans enjoy punishing those who attempt to rise above their station.”

            Ciel swallowed as (Y/N) looked back forward, and he tried to speak casually again. “What are real witches like?” He may as well learn something. “Do they summon you to the witch’s sabbath and worship you?” He attempted his usual sarcastic remarks.

            “Summoning demons and worshipping them…” mused Sebastian. He chuckled. “I do not believe sabbaths were held for that purpose. They were times of social interaction for depraved adults who wished to escape reality by sinking into debauchery.” He smirked at (Y/N). “Would you say that I’m correct?”

            “For some,” said (Y/N). “But those are the ones that seek the darkness for the sake of darkness. Sacrificing people, offering souls up to demons in exchange for their desires.” They tsked. “Those are the marks of people who wish to hold magic but have no natural ability for it. They use the moniker, but they practice the one aspect of it you should not—sacrifice. Using another for your own profit is a trade that cannot be properly made. Only one’s own sacrifice assists magic for ones own benefit.”

            Ciel seemed frozen for a moment. “What do you mean?”

            “Magic respects balance. If you give to it, it gives to you. However, if you attempt to give something of another to it without their willingness, it will instead respond to that other. Even if you profit in the moment, the cost will catch you,” said (Y/N).

            Sebastian glanced at his darling. He was ever-so-curious to see what their magic practices had been. He saw them use demonic magic at times, but to see them in their old element with the practices that had brought them to him as a demon…Sebastian was ever-so-curious. (And he was hoping the practices of some witches being naked during some spell work was true. Imagining magic curling around him and (Y/N) in a moment of intimacy was a tempting thought).

            (Y/N) smiled. “So, Young Master, should you decide to pursue magic, keep that in mind.”

            Ciel grimaced. He had no wish to do so. He’d seen enough sacrifice to know he would never make the mistake (Y/N) described.

            “My Lord,” said Sebastian, pausing the horses and looked through the woods. “Please, see for yourself. There are buildings over there.”

            Ciel furrowed his brow at the town cloaked in mist as Sebastian directed the cart towards it. The entire place was silent although it was daytime still. Sebastian and (Y/N) got down, and Sebastian guided Ciel down.

            “So there really was a village in this forest,” said Ciel, looking around. “No one’s around.” He frowned as they walked farther into the town. “Is it abandoned?”

            “No,” said Sebastian. “The houses have been kept up. I’m certain people do live here.”

            “Hey!” called Finny. “Is anybody—”

            The doors of every building opened violently. “Intruders!” shouted German voices. “Everybody, come out and fight!”

            Sebastian and (Y/N) shifted as women with pitchforks, rakes, axes, and other makeshift weapons emerged with angry expressions. Strangely enough, they all wore old German clothing, nowhere near modern. Several centuries old, in fact. Mey-Rin’s eyes widened, Finny jumped back, and Ciel narrowed his eyes.

            “Talk about a warm welcome,” said Baldroy.

            (Y/N)’s eyes went to the amulets around each of the women’s necks. They were identical with little inscriptions of runes a circle. (Y/N) furrowed their brow. None of the sigils were familiar. The alphabet was, but the actual combinations seemed to be gibberish. A German variation of magic? Perhaps new runes? It has been some centuries. However, the clothes are not modern, and the story of the witches said they have been here for several centuries. Furthermore, none of the women had emerged with any herbs, hex bags, or objects to perform magic. (Y/N)’s suspicions remained stubbornly within them.

            “Who are you bastards?!” shouted one woman. “How did you find your way here?!”

            “Tell them we would like to speak to their lord,” said Ciel.

            “Yes, sir,” said Sebastian.

            (Y/N) decided to watch with amusement how that would go over. Witches could be men or women or anything in between, but they were a more matriarchal society than patriarchal. If there was a lord here, (Y/N) would be impressed. Still, they were going to be amused and learn something helpful, so they let Sebastian speak.

            “We mean no harm,” said Sebastian. “We beg audience with your liege lord.”

            “What? Our liege?” said the woman leading the pack, her eyes narrowing.

            “Could they be targeting the honorable Sullivan?” murmured the other women.

            “Sullivan?” said Sebastian, raising a brow.

            “What are they—”

            “Quiet!” The woman cut Ciel off. “You villains must be betrayers!”

            “Betrayers? We’re not!” assured Finny nervously. His history as an experiment subject to a German scientist showed itself in his pronunciation.

            “We will spare none of your ilk!” said the women. “Don’t let them escape alive! Death to betrayers! Death to betrayers!”

            “What is the meaning of this?!” said a new, authoritative, young voice.

            “The honorable Sullivan!” gasped the women in surprise. Instantly, they bowed.

            The woman in charge spoke politely, “We apologize for letting intruders enter the village!”

            Sebastian raised a brow, and (Y/N) tilted their head. “Are you the honorable Sullivan, the liege lord?” asked Sebastian.

            “Indeed.” Carried by a tough German man, a young woman—(Y/N) would scarcely think her above thirteen at the very oldest—spoke. She was small, dressed in green finery. “I am Sieglinde Sullivan. Liege of this Forest!”

            Interesting, thought (Y/N). A child is in charge? That was hardly a standard choice for covens. They were too young, too unpracticed in magic. Yes, they could be powerful, but the lack of control that came with age and the need to protect children from being targets of those that hurt witches made it a terrible choice. Further evidence for (Y/N)’s theory, as far as they were concerned.

            The man holding Sieglinde walked closer to the group, and Sebastian watched him calmly. Abruptly, the man nearly growled and leaned in violently.

            “And form whence do you hail, peon?!” he said, the threat of violence in his voice.

            How uncouth, thought (Y/N).

            “Enough, Wolfram,” said Sieglinde, hitting him on the head so he’d straighten. “Excuse us. It has been quite some time since we last had visitors in the village.”

            “I don’t know how you managed to reach us, but here in our village of Wolfsschlucht outsiders are not welcome to stay.” Wolfram glared at (Y/N), and they raised a brow, putting their hands on their hips in a dare. Wolfram swallowed and coughed as their attractiveness settled in. “You-You must go back to where you came from!”

            “Best to retreat and consider alternative approaches, I think,” whispered Ciel.

            “Yes, my Lord,” said Sebastian. He was more than happy to do that to get Wolfram’s eyes off his (Y/N). He turned them with him towards the road. “Very well. Then we will take our l—”

            “Wait!” said the women, lifting their weapons and blocking their exit.

            “You and your party don’t seem to understand how fortunate you are to have passed through the forest unscathed,” said Wolfram.

            “What do you mean?” said (Y/N), already knowing the answer but fishing to see what information would be given.

            Wolfram took the bait. “Surely you must have heard the tales about the noble wolfman who protects the forest!”

            Sebastian smirked. “Then this is indeed the witches’ village under the protection of the wolfman. Is that right?”

            Wolfram was silent, hesitant to speak again.

            “Herr Wolfram, these people are dangerous!” shouted a village woman. “We must finish them off at once—”

            “Wait!” declared Sieglinde. She whispered into Wolfram’s ear, and (Y/N) and Sebastian exchanged a look of interest as they overheard. Interesting.

            “My Lady, that is—”

            “Do you refuse to do as I bid?” said Sieglinde, irked.

            “…Ja,” said Wolfram, capitulating. “Listen well. If you head back into the forest now, darkness will fall before you make it out.  The forest at night is far too perilous a place. Safe passage through the forest a second time cannot be guaranteed. No, you’ll never be able to leave its confines again. So…we will make an exception and permit you all to stay the night.”

            Shock ran through everyone, newcomers and villagers alike.

            “We can provide beds for tonight,” informed Wolfram, obeying his lady’s requests. “But come the very break of dawn—”

            “Herr Wolfram!” said the woman with the brazen, in-charge attitude “How could you invite strangers to the Emerald Castle?!”

            “Hilde,” said Wolfram. “It is as my lady wills.” Hilde gritted her teeth.

            “What’s happening?” asked Ciel.

            “We are being permitted to stay at the liege’s resident for the night,” said Sebastian.

            “That is my lady’s Emerald Castle.” Wolfram pointed up at a dark castle looming over the village. “Follow me.”

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