#Vorik x modern OC

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 8

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 8 : “Can you stay?”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager

Words : 1,616

Warnings : more alcohol, and one dumbass character; companion piece to this

(WOOOO THIS MEANS I’VE FINALLY CAUGHT UP)

“Can you stay?” Vorik x Modern OC

I crested over that plateau of Party Enjoyment into the diminishing return of Fun pretty quickly after the game of beer pong. It was like suddenly hitting a wall at full speed and crashing into a hard stop. I was slurring, I was saying dumb things, I could barely walk straight, and my internal monologue became something of a chant of "I hate this. I hate this. I hate this." Though it somehow didn’t stop me from continuing to take shots with my crewmates.

As the night went on, trying to keep track of the threads of conversation got tedious but when I started zoning out more often than I listened, I called it. Pretty much just like that, I decided I was Absolutely Done and wanted to be in bed five minutes ago. I had no idea what time it was and people were leaving anyway so it seemed like a good time for me to skedaddle too. So I grabbed Vorik's arm and told him so.

Not that I was particularly complaining, with my stupid crush still gong in full force apparently, but my friend had hardly left my side ever since our beat down of Tom and B'Elanna. It would have been fine if I'd had even a sliver of more self-control. Vorik's quiet and calm made me all too aware of how fucking obnoxious drunk-Giana must have been. Not to mention that I'd been doing dumb shit to the poor guy all night. Not the least of which being exactly what I was doing now: touching him way more than necessary. All the casual physical contact was all well and good for an inebriated social Human, but I had always been under the impression it was pretty taboo for a Vulcan. He was just too nice to say so.

Which was why as I made my rounds to say goodnight to folks, the Vulcan was still at my shoulder.

"Aww. You guys are leaving already?"

Already, as if it wasn't hella late.

"Nice game! I won't forget the look on Tom's face any time soon."

You and me both, friendo.

"It was fun finally hanging out with you. I'll see you tomorrow!"

You might. If I didn't end up sleeping all day tomorrow. No shifts meant no alarms and there was no way in hell I was getting up any earlier than my body wanted to, even if that meant I missed every meal.

I went back to our table to pick up the jacket I'd abandoned hours ago, waved a final goodbye to my friends still sitting there, and turned to find Vorik still behind me, hovering a few paces behind, waiting patiently.

“You know, you don't have to leave just because I am. You should stay and enjoy yourself.” I kept extra busy making sure my jacket was draped over my arm just so. I told myself I wasn't holding my breath for any particular reason.

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Vorik shake his head and clasp his hands behind his back. “If it hadn’t been for you asking me, I wouldn’t have come at all. Now, you are quite intoxicated. I would prefer to escort you to your quarters rather than staying, to ensure you make it there.”

I laughed, “As opposed to, what? Passing out in the hallway somewhere?”

“Or being taken advantage of. I have not known you to act out of self-preservation and I have often observed your inability to tell others ‘no.’”

Was I so easy for everyone else to read too, or was he the only one that paid attention?

“Okay, okay,” I sighed. “Since you chased off my date earlier, I guess that makes it your job to take me home anyway.”

God, why did I fucking say that?

Vorik arched an eyebrow and fell into step beside me as we left the rec room and turned down the hallway towards the crew quarters.

I couldn’t even keep quiet a minute before I had to open my stupid mouth.

“I’m glad you came, after all. Even if I did have to beg you.”

“As am I. I may not understand the Human obsession with loud music or dancing, but the conversations we had were just as enjoyable as on any other day. More so, perhaps.”

“Why more?”

“Only when they are drunk, are Humans finally honest,” he said. I sensed this could be a dangerous road for me so I tried to switch gears.

I reached out and caught the sleeve of his dark grey tunic and felt the strange crosshatching fabric. “I really like this on you,” I said with a smile.

Then suddenly: God, would you stop touching him, please?? As soon as I thought it, I released him and took to crumpling the light fabric of my dress in my fists instead.

Vorik raised his eyebrows and cast a somewhat amused look in my direction. “Thank you for proving my point.”

“Nuh-uh! I would’ve told you that even if I wasn’t so drunk! Vulcan fashion is to die for. I love it! I just…usually stop myself from giving out compliments is all.”

“Why?”

“Because…” I faltered. Because I am usually too shy? Because I never know how to react to compliments, so I don’t want to put others in that position? Because whenever I give out too many compliments, people accuse me of flirting and that makes me more uncomfortable? “I dunno. ‘M always worried they’ll come off awkward.”

Frowning, Vorik said, “Although many would likely hold the same opinion of me, you don’t strike me as awkward, Giana. I do appreciate your compliment. I, too, am fond of this overcoat.”

“It brings out your eyes,” I blurted before I snapped my teeth together so hard, I probably rattled my brain.

Vorik glanced at me and nodded. “I know. Though I am surprised you noticed. It is unusual for a Human to see the subtlety.”

I wasn’t sure if that was meant to be a compliment or not, but it sure did feel like one. So the smile I flash him is dopey and bright.

I had no idea why I kept doing this to myself. Why keep trailing along picking up the scraps of affection? There was no future here. Vorik wouldn’t—couldn’t possibly—return those feelings. It wasn’t in his nature, and that was okay…just not for me. That would never work out for someone who so desperately craved love. All I was doing was hurting myself. IN the short run. In the long run.

And, logically, I knew that most days.

But it was hard to see that when my head was so thick and my heart was giddy.

“Giana?”

“Hmm?”

I stopped and looked around to find him a meter behind me.

“Your quarters are here,” Vorik said, gesturing to the door to his left.

“Oh.” My face burned. “Y-yeah.”

I pressed my hand to the biometric reader and the doors hissed open. The computer greeted me as I walked over the threshold but I barely heard her. As soon as I walked inside, I was exhausted and felt ready to collapse.

“I would not recommend going to sleep immediately, though I am sure the urge is strong.” Vorik strode in behind me and went straight to my in-room replicator. “You should drink more water and remain alert for at least another ninety minutes.”

“Why?”

“To lower your blood-alcohol content.”

I wrinkled my nose at him. “Wha’? I didn’t know you were a doctor and an engineer.”

“I am not, but the amount of alcohol you consumed could easily lead to poisoning if you aren’t careful.”

My stomach twisted. “…oh?” It hadn’t been that much, had it?

The replicator dinged and Vorik approached me and offered out a glass of water.

I took it, still feeling rather confused and more than a little worried.

“You neglected to eat beforehand as well. It is a wonder you can still stand.” When I hadn’t moved, he reached out and nudged the bottom of the glass with his fingers until I raised it to my lips and took a long drink.

“Will I be okay?”

Vorik shook his head and shrugged halfheartedly. “If you listen, maybe.”

I laughed into the glass. “Don’t ever pursue a medical position. Your bedside manner is ass.”

He sighed. “Do as I say, and you will be fine. Now that my task is complete and you are safe, I will see you tomorrow.”

Vorik had made it all the way to the door before my anxiety won out over my self-consciousness.

“Um. Vorik?”

He paused with his fingers hovering over the keypad and looked over his shoulder.

“I. Um. C-can… Are you… Uh. W-were you planning on sleeping tonight or-or meditating?”

“Meditating.”

I nodded, and rolling the empty glass in my hands, I mustered all the courage from every corner of my being that I could possibly find. “Could…could you…? I-I mean, we don’t have to be in the same room or anything b-but if you’re only meditating, can you—I mean, if you don’t mind—can…can you, um, stay?” He was quiet, but my heart was loud in my ears. “To make sure I don’t die?” I clarified as if that would make the embarrassing request better.

“My mentioning it made you nervous.”

“Uh,” I said with a shaky laugh. “Yeah. Yeah, it definitely did. I had no idea I was that bad.”

“I can stay, if it will put you at ease.”

I smiled. “You’re too good to me.”

“You…are my friend. If my presence will soothe your anxiety, then I am glad to be here for you.”

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 9

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 9 : “It has a certain taste to it.”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager

Words : 927

Warnings : none, sorta a companion piece to this, where Giana makes banana bread

“It has a certain taste to it.” - Vorik x Modern!OC

“Okay, corazón. You ready?”

“If you are asking whether I am prepared to be underwhelmed and unsurprised,” came Vorik's voice from his study down the hall, “then, yes, I am.”

“You ready to get your ass kicked?” I countered, setting the glass baking dish on the island countertop with a roll of my eyes. That was gratitude for you. You slave away all day and only get sarcasm for your efforts. Typical day on Vulcan.

The guest of honor sauntered into the kitchen fidgeting with a holo-emitter. I caught him out of the corner of my eye when I checked on the sauce and took out plates.

“I know you’re not going to keep working while we’re eating,” I warned him. “Not after I worked literally all day to make you this stupidly complicated recipe—which, by the way, did you only ask for it because it was so complicated and you assumed I would mess it up by making it from scratch?”

Vorik's face was a mask of innocence, but I could feel the tug of amusement in the corner of our connection that gave him away. “You asked for my favorite meal, and I gave it.”

But the unspoken answer was, yes.

“You’re on thin ice,” I whispered to him before I gave him a kiss on the cheek on my way to grab serving utensils.

He peered with calculating interest at the b’lltarr as I served it and poked the thick, jagged noodles with his finger when he thought I wasn’t looking.

“The consistency looks correct; a detail that is usually difficult to master,” he commented somewhat begrudgingly. “However, you promised it would taste better as well, being handmade out of ‘natural’ ingredients and not protein synthesizers.”

“Yes.”

“Can I also assume I shall be able to taste the ‘love’ in each bite?” The ghost of a smile tugged at the corners of his lips and I had to pause the bask in its glory for a moment.

But then: “You'll taste something if you don’t stop giving me this attitude, but I promise you won’t like it.”

I heard the soft exhale of breath, faint, almost like a sigh, which was the closest he ever got to laughing. “Any other threats before we get started?” he asked, setting his holo-emitter aside to pull out forks from a drawer.

“Yes. One. If you don’t say something nice to me about this meal, I am going to start crying.”

I took the saucepan from the stove and spooned the viscous, bluish liquid over the noodles, paused, then added a dollop of sauce in the corner of each of the plates and smeared it artfully. There. Plated and everything. Like a professional.

Vorik gave me a bemused look but knew better than to comment.

“Okay…” I picked up a plate and offered it to him, sucking my lip between my teeth. “Homemade b’lltarr. As promised.”

He kept staring at it and moving the plate in his hands as we took it to the table, but our bond was left frustratingly colorless. Vorik gave no indication of any kind how he might’ve felt about it and that made me wholly nervous. Not just because b’lltarr was the single most frustrating thing I’d ever made (I had to throw out two attempts at the weird noodles because I missed taking them out of the steamer by a few seconds each), but because I really wanted him to like it.

Shockingly, it was hardly about ‘winning’ that ancient bet anymore. I just wanted to make him happy. Or as happy as he could be, anyway. Despite the doctrine of IDIC and it being a hundred and fifty or so years since Sarek and Amanda had first lived here, I knew many of his peers were giving him a hard time about me while we lived on Vulcan, whether they said so outright or not. While Vorik didn’t mention it much, choosing to spare his anxious wife most of the details, I knew he dealt with other’s disapproval to his face a lot more than I did. And I knew it was much more difficult than he let on.

Vorik tasted the sauce separately before taking a tentative bite of it all together.

“You added something to this.”

I pressed my hand to my heart, laughing, “Oh, you caught me. My secret ingredient was poison. Now I’m gonna make off with your estate and become the mysterious widow down the street.”

He shook his head and tried the sauce again. “It has a particular taste to it… Is that…did you put Terran chipotles in this?”

My entire thought process spilled out in a rush of words, “Ummmm, yes, because everything is better with chipotle in it, y’know, and I thought the redspice that was supposed to be in here was a little bit bland, I dunno. So I added the chipotle I had too. It’s, like, a Vulcan-Human fusion now! I thought it’d be sorta cool. Is that…okay?”

“It is satisfactory.”

I let my fork clink to the table. “Woooow. It’s gonna be like that, huh?”

Saying nothing else, Vorik continued to eat the rest of what I served him. Our bond was blank and his face was composed.

“So, is it better or nah?” I finally asked.

The Vulcan swept from the table and served himself more, and I guess that had to count for something. No one got seconds if the food was awful. When Vorik returned he held his fingers out to me. I pressed the pads of my own fingers to his and warm-colored affection blossomed over our bond. Without realizing it, my lips settled into a soft smile as calm washed over me.

“Are you ready, ashayam?”

I started. “Ready? Ready for what?”

“To prepare this again for my parents.”

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 5 and 6

From The Fictober 2019 event

Prompt 5 : “I might just kiss you.”

Prompt 6 : “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?.”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager

Words : 1,574

Warnings : mild swearing and alcohol consumption

“I might just kiss you” and “Yes, I’m aware. Your point?” - Vorik x Modern OC

As it turned out, I was having way more fun at the Rec Room Party than I thought I was going to. Back home, big parties had never been my Thing™ because there were usually too many strangers, but when you’re all stuck together in the ass-end of space, even a hundred or so people didn’t feel like a bunch of strangers anymore.

Especially when you still only hang out with the same five people, chilling at a table while the music blares the bass, with your bestie on your left talking about reverse polarity bolt specifications or whatever, and the girl you “kinda sorta came with” mysteriously disappearing partway through.

Eh. C'est la vie.

I took a long drink from my violently colored glass of alcoholic alien something (I already forgot what the heck Neelix gave me) and smiled fondly at Vorik. I wondered if he even realized he scared away my date with his tech talk. I wondered if I really cared. Despite people beginning to split off for the night, I was definitely having more fun sitting here sipping down my cocktail and listening to my favorite person talk about his favorite subject.

Until.

“Hey!” A hand clapped my shoulder and I looked around to find Tom grinning down at me.

Oh no.

“Wanna be our next victim at beer pong?” he asked with an air of innocence.

“Beer pong still exists?” I laughed.

“Hell yeah! It’s teams. B’Elanna and I against whoever you pick, so choose wisely.”

Choose wisely, indeed. The last thing I wanted to do was lose to Tom. Glancing around at all my friends’ wide smiles, I took mental stock of everyone’s level of soberness. All night I’d watched these folks pounding back glass after glass with me—all except one.

“Vorik!” I leaned into his shoulder so I could be closer to his ear. Belatedly, I realized that his hearing was probably fine even with the music. “Wanna be my partner?”

He blinked. “Excuse me?”

Blushing, I realized what I said and amended, “I mean to play beer pong. Tom’s just challenged me and I’d like to wipe the floor with him.”

We glanced over to the side of the room where Tom and B’Elanna were setting up rows of cups at a long rectangular table. Tom paused long enough to stick his tongue out at me.

“A worthy goal,” Vorik said.

“So, you’ll be my number two?”

“Yes,” he replied with a nod. “However, I must point out that as you have already been drinking, our likelihood of success is—”

“Eh,” I said, waving him away. “Don’t worry about that. Tom looks like he’s already drunk and what he doesn’t know is that I get better at beer pong as I drink more. It’s a great inverse relationship!”

* * *

It started out a little rocky when Tom found out who I picked and tried to set up new rules (“Well Vorik won’t get shitfaced on this, bring out the Klingon stuff like B’Elanna has to drink. It’s only fair!”) but once we got to really playing, the game went about how I should have expected:

I was awful, just as Vorik had predicted, and Tom was sloppy because he was sloshed from the get-go, just like I had predicted. Vorik turned out to be a player of precision and finesse, probably calculating the geometry and delicate force necessary to land in a glass every single time it was his turn, meanwhile, B’Elanna was ruthlessly competitive and kept landing glasses by sheer force of will despite how many Vorik made her drink. Unfortunately, that made it all in all pretty even, but that didn’t stop us from amassing a whole crowd of too-invested onlookers in the meantime.

Ping, thwoop!

“YEAH!” Tom whooped the loudest from the other end of the table as B’Elanna’s ball made it into one of our last four glasses.

“Drink up,” B’Elanna slurred gleefully as I reached for the cup to pull out the little white ball and hand it to Vorik.

“You were supposed to protect me,” I pouted at him. “This wasn’t supposed to happen.”

Chants of, “Drink. Drink. Drink. Drink,” went up around the table and, shrugging, I tipped my head back to drain the entire contents all at once to a new chorus of cheers— “See, Paris?” someone jeered, “That’s how you’re supposed to play!”. My whole body teetered back after my head, but Vorik’s warm hand on my back caught me and kept me upright before I fell on my butt.

“It’s hardly my fault that you have missed 66.667 percent of your shots,” he told me. His voice was much thicker than it had been when we started, but at least he wasn’t swaying on his feet like I was.

“What’s wrong, Giana?” Tom called, waving his own half-finished drink from the last turn. “Had too much to drink already? Lookin’ a li’l unsteady over there.”

I patted Vorik’s chest and taunted back, “Laugh it up while you can, Tom! My boy is about to come for your life!”

The crowed “oooh”ed.

And he would. And then Tom would miss. Then I would miss. Then B’Elanna would make it. Then Vorik would make it again, and we’d just stay neck in neck for the rest of eternity.

“Giana,” Vorik said quietly. He grabbed my arm; his lips close to my ear. Heat that had nothing to do with all the alcohol blossomed over my skin. “I believe there is a rule that would allow me to win the game for us now if I make it into the cup in Tom’s hand.” That sounded right, but I honestly couldn’t think straight with the Vulcan so close to me. “I will attempt it for you, but the probability of my making it in his current condition would be approximately 1 in 78. At best. If I do not, because of the timing of our turns, we will lose the game.”

“‘Will lose’? But I could make it on my turn and make up for you missing.”

He gave me a dubious look. “You have consumed two glasses of Terran red wine, an Andorian Pale Rock cocktail, three shots of Terran whiskey and approximately 33.8 ounces of beer. Your blood alcohol content must be somewhere on the order of—”

“Yes, yes. I’m aware I’m drunk. Your point?”

“It is unlikely you would make your shot on your turn so it is likely we will lose the game. Highly likely.”

“Jerk.” I smacked him on the shoulder with a little giggle and felt immediately disgusted with myself. What the fuck had just possessed me to do that? I tried to frown and go on as if I hadn’t just been momentarily possessed by my teenage self. “I think it’s worth the risk. Do it. And I’ll try to distract him or something, so he stops moving so much. That’ll help the odds, right?”

Vorik nodded.

B’Elanna cupped her hands to her mouth and called, “Hey, are you lovebirds done? Get on with it!”

The way the crowd giggled made me flush worse.

“Yeah, take your turn and accept defeat already,” Tom laughed.

I gave Vorik an encouraging smile before turning to our opponents. “If you’re so ready to lose, you could just give up and save us the trouble of destroying you.”

“Not on your life,” B’Elanna growled.

Tom pointed. “What she said.”

Vorik took his time to line up his shot. So that was mu cue to get Tom to keep steady.

“You ready for this?” I asked, sauntering a bit towards the corner of the table. I watched Tom mirror my movements as he grinned. Maybe if he would keep him copying me, I could keep him still. “You’re gonna drink this one too. You ready?” I leaned forward onto the table.

Tom leaned forward too and—yes! —put his glass on the table to stare at me right in the eye. “Doesn’t matter,” he said. “You’re still going to lose.”

Ping—

I held my breath; my heart drummed erratically in my throat.

—ker-plunk.

­The entire crowd burst into raucous applause and deafening screams. Tom and B’Elanna stared, dumbfounded, at the offending cup on the corner of the table with the white ball bobbing on the last bit of Tom’s drink.

“HA! YOU LOSE!” I shouted at them and then grabbed Vorik and squeezed him as tight as I could. “Oh, I might just kiss you! We make such a good team, my dude!”

A pause, too long for a Vulcan. “Indeed.”

I looked up at him, still beaming and found his dark eyes searching my face. A moment later, what I said and what I was still doing crashed into me at once and I released him.

“I-I…” I swallowed hard. I felt like I was about to die of heat stroke. If the Voyager would crash very suddenly into something—anything—I’d be very grateful.

Then our friend Lyssa burst between the two of us, an arm wrapped around each of our necks and roared, “Take that, Paris! Way to win one for us Ensigns, you guys!”

“Vorik d-did all the work,” I mumbled, torn between feeling grateful to her and continuing to be horrified at myself.

“It was a team effort,” Vorik said smoothly, nodding at me.

“I guess. I did have a few good ones, didn’t I?”

“A few.”

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 20 with special guests: Day 19, Day 18 and Day 15

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 20 : “You could talk about it, you know?”

Prompt 19 : “Yes, I admit it, you were right.”

Prompt 18 : “Secrets? I love secrets.”

Prompt 15 : “That’s what I’m talking about! ”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager, Skyrim

Words : 3,551

Warnings : light gore and mention of blood and body horror

Day 20, 19, 18, and 15 - Vorik x Modern!OC

With a loud whoosh the flames from my hands extinguished as the last vampire collapsed in a heap of ashen clothes. The cavern plunged into near-total darkness again save for the flickering torch on the stone floor that Vorik had been carrying until we were ambushed. One fairly short fight later showed them this coven never stood a chance. I shook out my still smoking hands and blew on them. “Damn, that will never get old. It's still so cool!”

“Technically, it would be hot,” my companion said dryly, nudging a set of black robes near the entrance with the toe of his boot. A dagger clinked onto the limestone and he bent to pick it up and inspect it.

I was already heading towards the line of cupboards and bookcases along one roughhewn wall to rummage through them. “‘Cool' is human vernacular, you know, for when things are—”

“Yes, I am familiar with the terminology.” I heard the clatter of metal from behind me. Dagger must not have been up to his standards, I thought with a smile.

“Oh, so you're just being facetious,” I laughed.

Vorik fixed me with a somewhat smug look. “Yes.”

“Jerk,” I said with a smile.

Returning to my grand work pulling out drawers, I had to marvel at the little details that didn’t exist when I would play Skyrim on my computer. Where before I would “Press A to open” things and get a list of goods inside, I now had to work at finding anything worth looking for. I pulled out a rough linen dress from the bottom drawer and shook it out. I was rewarded by a puff of dust and the clatter of lockpicks on the rocks. One thing was for sure. This certainly felt a lot more like stealing now that I had to dig through physical objects to take things.

I grabbed the little coin purse tucked in the corner and turned around to search for the lockpicks I’d inadvertently spilled all over the floor, but my friend was ahead of me.

As Vorik extended his hand to give me the lockpicks, I noticed a streak of dark green on the inside of his arm.

I gasped. “Vorik! Are you bleeding?”

Appearing to notice it for the first time, the Vulcan inspected his forearm, loosening his leather braces so he could pull the shirt back. There, standing out stark against his pale yellow skin, thick dark green blood oozed out of two long jagged claw-like nicks. “Curious,” he murmured. “Are the safeties off?”

“They shouldn't be,” I replied slowly. “Computer? Status of holodeck safety protocols, please.”

An acknowledgment beep sounded in bizarre contrast to our surroundings from somewhere in the depths of the limestone vampire den. Then the robotic voice answered, “Holodeck Safety Protocols are still in effect.”

“Okay, thank you.”

We looked at each other.

“This wound is not real, then.”

“Looks pretty real,” I said doubtfully, reaching out to take his arm. But I stopped short and kept my hands to myself. “Does it feel real?”

Vorik glanced at me through his eyelashes. “Perhaps you should look away.”

“Why?”

“You're squeamish,” he said as though it should have been obvious.

I shrugged. “Whatever. It's not my blood.”

His eyebrow rose but he didn't say anything else before he grabbed his wrist with his other hand and squeezed. More blood seeped from the wounds running in long drips down his arm. A little gush shot into the air.

He was right. I should have turned away.

“What the fu—Oh, gross,” I choked before I clamped my mouth shut and spun around so my lunch wouldn't come up next. Even though on some level, I knew that our bodies acted differently despite looking very similar on the surface, I still wasn’t prepared for that. I don’t think I would ever have been prepared for blood spurts. My stomach churned.

“It does feel real,” I heard him say, his tone completely indifferent, “and it is acting real as well.”

“Well jus—ggkkh. Stop playing with it and just take care of it, will you?”

Unable to stand there without imagining more blood spurting from his arm, I wandered away towards the mouth of the cavern. It opened up into a long, steep passageway that led outside. It would take some time to walk but I knew that’s where it went. So whether the air was actually cooler or better circulated,  or I just imagined it was, being at the passage helped clear the dizziness somewhat. I certainly felt less like I would pass out, leaning against the rocky wall.

After a few minutes, Vorik joined me, his mouth turned in that slight secretive sort of smile that always killed me. “I did warn you to look away.”

“Yeah, yeah. Just so you know, we should find an herbalist or an apothecary as soon as we get back into town. You should have a Potion of Cure Disease on hand.” He looked over at me quizzically, so I clarified: “In case you get vampirism.”

This time my companion scoffed. “I cannot contract vampirism. I'm Vulcan.”

“What's that got to do with anything?” I laughed. “You think you're immune? Why? Because your blood is green or because your ears are already pointy? You were nicked with a vampire's claws, which means you can contract vampirism. Those are the rules of Skyrim set down by our lord and savior, Todd Howard.”

I felt more than I saw his eye roll. Together we ventured back into the gloom of the hallway. The torch in Vorik’s hand cast leaping shadows over the jagged limestone walls as we made out ascent.

“I am certain I cannot contract vampirism. This program was not made for my kind, the default avatar setting is human. And vampires can only be human, as they are human legends.”

“Uh-huh. Sure. Sounds an awful lot like more speculation than a logical assumption, my dude. You don’t have to take my advice if you don’t want to, but you’d better stay away from my neck!”

                                                              ***

“Computer, end program,” Vorik said into the air. No sooner had the acknowledgment sounded than the world shimmered and disappeared around us. My house in Riften was replaced by the reflective metal and crosshatching, bonelike metal bars of the holodeck. Vorik’s armor and most of my own, with the exception of Gilmorrak and my belt, disappeared, replaced by our civilian clothes.

“Hey, how’s your arm, by the way?”

He unbuttoned the clasp at the cuff and rolled up the sleeve of his grey tunic. He twisted his forearm left and right for me to see. There was no trace of any blood now. No evidence that he’d been harmed at all.

“Evidently it was part of the holodeck program.”

I shook my head. “That’s weird though because I’ve been straight up stabbed and shot with arrows until I looked like a pin cushion and I still never bled. It’s got to be a vital part of the programming, dude.”

“It is strange,” he agreed, “but it shouldn’t be of any concern. The wound is gone now. It was likely an oversight on the part of Mr. Kim or Mr. Paris. Perhaps something about translating such an ancient game to the holodeck.”

I ignored his jab at Skyrim and flashed him a smile. “Unless you become a vampire in the next couple of days,” I said.

“I will not become a vampire.”

I shook my head at him and sighed as he led me towards the door. I was always a little sad to leave Skyrim, or any of the holodeck programs, honestly, but my crewmates needed time to play. If I didn’t have that pang of guilt and unfairness hanging over my head, I would be way too content to stay on a holodeck forever. It always astounded me while watching the show: How could these people have this technology and not want to be there all their lives?

“Can a person live in a holodeck program?” I asked as we exited. I recognized the next two eager adventurers as Ensigns from security, so I waved while Vorik nodded to them.

“No, so you should never try it,” Vorik said, catching on easily to my line of thought. He did that a lot. I guess I was just a simple sort of creature. “Most holodeck programs are not equipped for sustained use,” he went on, “You would drain the reactors quickly. And while some holodecks utilize food replicators, like our own, this is not true for each one. Non-starship decks tend to use lower grade protein synthesizers since holographic meals are not meant to be the staple of one’s diet. These would have negligible nutritional value and you would eventually waste away.”

“You’re a spoilsport.”

“And you would kill yourself chasing fantasy as a coping mechanism. Problems, even your emotional ones, should be faced head on. It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.”

I stopped dead in the hallway and gaped at him. Vorik had continued several paces before he realized I was no longer beside him. He looked around expectantly, his hands clasped behind him, but my brain had 404-ed.

“Did you just…?” A smile crept onto my face. “Did you just… quote Albus mcfreakin’ Dumbledore at me?”

Vorik stared at me blankly.

“You did, didn’t you? You thought I wouldn’t catch it, but you did! You read it??”

Vorik’s eyes closed for a half a second longer than normal as he took a deep breath. His gaze cast downward for a moment as if resigning himself before he looked at me again. “Yes, I did—”

I rushed him and grabbed him by the arms, grinning from ear to ear now. “You did? You did! Ohmygosh! You have to tell me what you think. What part are you at? How far have you gotten? Were you planning on reading through all of them or were you just trying out the first one? Are you finished with it? Please—ohmygod—tell me everything!”

Appearing both bemused and like he had just realized he’d made a horrible mistake, my Vulcan friend led me towards the mess hall, succinctly answering my questions as rapidly as I fired them off.

                                                             ***

“You don’t look too good,” I told Vorik as I set my bowl of spaghetti down at our table in the corner of the mess several days later. It was quiet, halfway between a midshift, and the hall was all but empty save for a handful of people and one Vulcan with his head in his hands.

At my voice, he sat up straight and blinked whatever it was bothering him away. “I am fine.”

“You look pale. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?”

Fork in hand, he started picking at his food. “I just need to meditate,” he mumbled.

I nodded and spun my own fork in my noodles idly for a few heartbeats. But like so many somewhat intrusive thoughts, I couldn’t keep it in my brain, and I opened my mouth to say conspiratorially, “Unless.”

“Giana,” Vorik warned, closing his eyes.

“Is the vampirism making you peakish?”

“I am not a vampire.”

“Sounds exactly like the sort of thing a vampire would say,” I replied, jutting out my lip in a face of disbelief. “But seriously, you could talk about it, you know. The actual thing that’s bothering you, I mean, not your unfortunate illness.”

Vorik rolled his eyes at me and continued to push his food around his tray. Even that he gave up after a few moments with a sigh and a shake of his head. “I haven’t been able to sleep. Or allocate the proper time to meditate. I keep going over our run-in with mining colony virus. There has to be something else we could have done, without leaving the captain to take care of herself.”

I barely suppressed a shudder at the mention of the nasty bugs that solidified my now-very-rational fear of anything insect-like. Doing what I did best, I covered it with humor. “Are you not sleeping at night because your new lifestyle requires you to sleep during the day?” He opened his mouth like he was going to chastise me, so I quickly added, “Captains are supposed to be able to take care of things themselves, that’s why they’re captains. Besides, there wasn’t anything else you could have done. We all did our best! We didn’t know we were being attacked. I can’t believe I, of all people, have to tell you this, but agonizing over it isn’t logical.”

“Perhaps not. But analyzing a situation where I believe my abilities to have failed me for the purposes of self-reflection and to ensure it does not happen again, is.”

I waved my fork around and shrugged. “If it makes you feel better, I’m mad at myself too for forgetting that stupid episode happened. Must’ve blocked it out. Those things were so nasty. And I bet if we weren’t all so caught off guard maybe we woulda thought of the holodeck trick too. I dunno, just be glad the captain came back when she did and don’t lose your head over it. I don’t want you to spiral out of control with your analysis, my dude.”

“I will not. I am not you.”

“Ouch.”

A new person joined us at the table. Their tray clattered next to mine and I turned to find Harry grinning at me. Instantly, I beamed back. His smile was always so infectious.

“Hey guys. What’s goin’ on over here?”

“Nothing,” Vorik said.

“It’s a secret.” I said over him.

“Secrets?” chimed a new voice, “I love secrets.” Tom sat on Harry’s other side and almost immediately began shoveling his mashed potatoes into his mouth as soon as his tray was down. “Do tell.”

“There is nothing going on,” Vorik repeated, his voice a little tighter. “There are no secrets. Giana is being impossible.”

“Vorik is turning into a vampire!” I said in a rush. Vorik folded his hands in front of his face and fixed me with a Vulcan’s closest approximation to a glare. I smiled and nudged his boot under the table with my own. He didn’t respond.

Harry, however, did. He lowered his spoon from his face, looking stricken, and fixed me with a very serious look. “Giana! We…we don’t say things like that around here…”

What?

My eyes widened as I realized what he was trying to say. “Oh! No! Just ‘cause the- skin and th-the pointy— No, nonononono. We were playing Skyrim together the other day and he was scratched by a vampire’s claws so I’ve been teasing him, that’s all! It’s not—no!”

Finally, Vorik looked satisfied and returned my kick under the table. Then it was my turn to glare at him.

“Oh. Good,” Harry sighed, clearly relieved he was spared a lesson in microaggressions, “I was going to say… I’d be surprised if that’s what it was coming from you.”

I ate my spaghetti in silence, hoping Vorik never thought that’s what I ever meant. Maybe I was laying it on a bit too thick, bringing up his vampire-hood every so often over the last couple of days. I really did just think I was being funny, but now I wasn’t so sure. Maybe I was just being a huge asshole.

“So you were hit by a vampire, huh?” Tom asked, bringing the conversation back. “Harry and I cleared out a den by Morthal for the Thaneship not too long ago. Harry wants to build the house.”

“I just think it’ll be better than all the pre-built ones!”

“Anyway, he had to chug two Potions of Cure Disease. He caught vampirism one right after the other.” Tom laughed and wolfed down the last of his steamed vegetables. “You end up bleeding?”

Vorik arched an eyebrow and glanced at me before warily answering, “Yes.”

Tom pulled an apologetic face. “Mmm, yup. You’re a vampire now.”

“Yes! I knew it!”

“But I am Vulcan,” Vorik said over me, “How can I become a vampire from Human folklore?”

Tom shrugged. “It’s all in the coding. It’s not that you’ll become human or anything, it’s just that the aspects of vampirism will be overlaid onto your Skyrim avatar and all the buffs and debuffs will apply. Think of it like a…a filter. A vampire filter.”

“See, no that’s what I was talking about; it had a purpose. Tom had to reinterpret the original game. Making you appear to bleed was probably just the indication that you caught something, otherwise, you’d never know because we don’t really have a convenient way to check our status. And you said it was probably nothing. Everything has a reason.”

Tom nodded.

I slurped the rest of my spagetti from the bowl and pushed it aside. “You ready to go back and get cured?” I asked Vorik. I wanted to get him alone again, maybe to keep talking to him about the virus or maybe make sure he didn’t think I was being rude. But I couldn’t keep one more from coming out. “The sooner you’re cured, the sooner the UV lights will stop burning your skin.”

“Will your vampire jokes cease when I am cured?”

I smiled sheepishly. “Yeah, probably.”

“Then absolutely.”

                                                              ***

The holodeck hummed to life and the blank room started being filled with materializing objects. Vorik fidgeted with his sleeve and sure enough, once the front room of our Riften house came into focus, the bandage seeping dark green blood reappeared as well. Hopefully taking care of the vampirism would take care of the uncanny wound that was not really a wound as well.

“First thing’s first. Let’s find an apothecar—eee!” As soon as he looked at me, I recoiled back. “Vorik…your eyes…”

He barely looked like himself in the torchlight. His face was sunken and shadowed and his dark eyes had been nearly swallowed by blackness from the irises out through the whites of his eyes. Black vein-like lines spread from his sunken sockets like a sickness, reaching towards his cheekbones in a spiderweb of tendrils. I could see now how vampires could be considered completely terrifying.

“Holy shit, dude.” I reached up and grazed the side of his face with fingertips, still looking in wonder at the vampiric effects that Tom and Harry had engineered. With a horrified realization it hit me that, yes, this is what a monstrous vampire should look like to an everyday person and I understood all the horror stories.

Vorik stiffened slightly as the pads of my fingers swept his temple and with a jolt in my stomach, I realized what I was doing and pulled my hand away.

“Do… Do you feel different? You look way different. How did I not notice this before??”

“It was dark the last time we played,” Vorik answered. He strode to the washbasin and peered into the spotted mirror above it. He prodded his skin and turned his head from side to side, admiring the reflection. “The detail is rather astounding, and the effect is…unsettling.”

“You can say that again. I very suddenly don’t want to be a vampire anymore myself.”

“I do not feel different,” Vorik continued as though he were observing the results of a particularly interesting experiment. “Perhaps because the sickness hasn’t been given time to spread?”

“Or just because you aren’t in the sun yet.”

“Fascinating.”

‘Fascinating’ though it might have been, I really wanted to get him taken care of. Though I didn’t remember Skyrim vampires looking like this (so maybe the blackness around his eyes wouldn’t stay) he was starting to creep me out just being in the same room. The effect it had on me when it wasn’t just pixels, when it was suddenly someone I knew, didn’t sit right in my brain. Not to mention that I would probably be really disturbed if I had to watch him feed off NPCs to keep his powers up.

Speaking of, I wondered if this meant that joining The Companions was out of the question for me now. If vampires looked this strange, imagine what if would feel like to be a werewolf. I shivered at the thought of my skin splitting and actually sprouting hair all over my body.

Nasty.

“Sooo…” I began in a nonchalant voice, wandering to the table and picking up an apple from a wooden bowl. “Is there something you wanna say to me, maybe?”

Vorik turned the full force of his unnerving face on me and I had to physically stop myself from recoiling by clutching the back of a chair.

He sighed. “Yes, yes. I admit it. You were right. I am a vampire.”

For the first time, I noticed as he spoke that the teeth that would have been his canines if he were a primate were far longer and sharper than they had been before. “Oh shit, you’re growing fangs too, dog. Yeah, let’s get you fixed up before you start thirsting for my blood.”

His expression as I darted out the door told me that, at this moment, he didn’t need to thirst after my blood in order to want to rip my head off.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

If anyone actually made it all the way down here, gosh, I love you and you’re great and I appreciate you and I hope you enjoyed my nonsense.

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019 - Day 11

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 12 : “It’s not always like this”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager

Words : 1,267

Warnings : talk about depression

Day 11 - It’s not always like this Vorik x Modern!OC

“I thought I would find you down here.”

I startled a bit at Vorik’s voice and turned to watch him saunter into the observation room I’d been occupying for some time. Long ago, I’d figured out that this was one of the few rooms that wasn’t in use most of the time. It had a long window on the side and tables opposite it, which made the place perfect for gazing unseeingly into the absolute blackness. Almost felt comfortable, really. This place had become a frequent haunt for me if I felt myself being caught up in the downswing of a depressive episode. A state of being I had come to know too often here.

I guess you could call what I was doing “brooding”. By definition.

“You know me too well,” I told him blandly as he sat by my side.

“Humans are creatures of habit,” the Vulcan replied, folding his hands in his lap. “All one must do is see the pattern.”

“Glad I’m so predictable.”

He nodded. “At this moment, so am I.”

Vorik hadn’t picked up on the sarcasm in my words, but what he’d said sort of touched me, so I let it slide. Why was he looking for me? I wanted to ask. But for all my best efforts, I couldn’t seem to make the words form around the question. So I let it drop.

All the stars going by at warp speed just made me dizzy, if anything. My eyes wanted so badly to focus on the pinpricks of light, but they zoomed by so fast that by the time I’d focused, they were gone. It took real effort to see past it all in order to stare glumly into space and think about home. But I managed.

I missed my family and friends so much. I missed my dogs too, which shouldn’t have been surprising, but made me feel guilty anyway. It stung—really stung—to know that even when the Voyager returned to Earth and every other crewmember was reunited with their families, I would still be without mine. While everyone else would be happy and embracing their loved ones, I would be on the outside. Watching, longing, but completely alone. No one would be there to rejoice my return. No one even knew who I was.

Somehow, I’d wound up here in a place that was a far better future than any I could have possibly imagined for myself, but I’d paid the ultimate price for it. Everything I knew was lost to me. There was no home to return to, no loved ones to be glad I was safe. My life may have been opened up into millions of possibilities, but it was also dark and lonely and vast. I had more in common with the Void on the other side of the viewscreen than with the alien sitting next to me.

Sometimes, when I was well enough to stop myself, I wondered why I did this to myself. Why sit and purposefully anguish and wallow? But it usually felt like the right thing to do. Like it was a penance for coming to the future alone. I could sit here for hours and mourn, longing for a way to bring my family here with me to this bright and hopeful future. I deserved to be sad and miserable and remind myself that no amount of hoping would change the truth. That they were unreachable. Dead and gone. Moved on without me.

“Do you miss your family?” I asked in a hoarse voice. I sounded like I’d been crying, but I hadn’t shed a tear the whole time I was in this room. My eyes may have been dry today, but my heart was rent and twisted and jagged.

“You have asked me this before. This is what is upsetting you, then?”

I wanted to be defensive and tell him I wasn’t upset—wistful, longing, melancholy, maybe, but not upset—but my ability to speak had fled me again.

Vorik sighed softly. “I often think of my youngest sister. For the sake of connecting with your emotional state, that could be interpreted as missing her. T’Shara was not yet a teen when I had left Vulcan to serve here. I have missed much of her growth already. Being stranded in the delta quadrant means I shall continue to do so.”

“You’re close to your sister?” I asked, immediately latching on. Immediately thinking of Amber, my own littlest sister, abandoned and alone on twentieth century Earth. Or as the Federation’s historical holovids would lead one to believe: hell.

“Yes and no. The gap in our ages prevents closeness for now, but I am protective of her. She is extremely intelligent, yet has some trouble adhering to Surak’s code of logic. Our parents do not tolerate this. Our eldest sister is too busy for debate and Taurik never cared for philosophy. I was the only one who would listen to her and explain Surak’s meaning and intent with patience. She must come to her own understanding of logic and why it is necessary for our people. I attempted to explain this to our parents numerous times, that the questioning can be natural and would not be a danger if T’Shara’s conclusions were refuted with logic but…”

“But…they don’t understand.”

He sighed again. “I hope she is well.”

“I was usually a mediator for my youngest sister too. Amber’s hot-headed and stubborn and steps on people’s toes all the time, but she was fifteen, and these are regular fifteen-year-old qualities to have. My parents, especially our mom,  assumes that she’s abrasive and ungrateful, but they couldn’t be more wrong. She’s just figuring out who she is. She’s smart and she’s sweet and she’s funny and she laughs so freely that just thinking about it now is gonna make me cry—she’s got the cutest snort and that’s how you can tell she’s really being her. Just so…unabashedly her. She’s such a goof... I just…I wonder who she’ll grow up to be. But I guess I…. I’ll never know…”

“T’Shara would be about fifteen human years as well.”

My vision swam. The stars blurred. “We’re going to miss so much, Vorik. But at least you’ll see T’Shara again—”

My voice broke off in a strangled sob that wouldn’t quite come out completely. I couldn’t quite cry. The burning tears in my eyes wouldn’t quite fall. I couldn’t quite relieve the gnawing ache in my chest.

Because for me, there would never be relief.

Vorik didn’t say anything, no condolences, no platitudes, but he did lean closer into me. The pressure against my side, the warmth of him through our uniforms, was enough. His hands fluttered, looking for a moment like he wanted to take my hand and thought better of it. So I linked my arm under his and rested my hand on the sleeve of his uniform, careful not to invade his space and touch his skin, and leaned my head on his shoulder.

“It’s not always like this,” I murmured. “Most of my family moved away from me long before I found myself here, so I am mostly used to the ache of them being gone. But when days are already bad, it’s just…raw.”

“It is unnecessary for you to explain. I understand what your family meant to you. Though it may be difficult, you needn’t isolate yourself. I am here, should you ever be in need of me.”

Biting my lip, a tear did finally spill over my cheek. “Thank you, Vorik. I’ll try to remember.”

[halfblood-fiend]

Fictober 2019- Day 27

From The Fictober 2019 event <3

Prompt 27 : “Can you wait for me?”

Fandom : Star Trek: Voyager

Words : 207

Warnings : nothin’ at all

Day 27 - “Can you wait for me?” - Vorik x Modern!OC

“Can you, um, wait for me? Is that okay?” I ask, somewhat hesitantly. I’m never quite sure how he will react. This is all so new.

My Vulcan tutor turns dark eyes on me and is quiet for a whole heartbeat. It makes me more nervous than I can say, being scrutinized under his gaze. I still can’t tell why.

Did I break some unspoken rule just now? Was this offensive? My question could have been implying that his time was worthless to me. Does he think I am rude?

Why do I care so much?

Finally, he nods. “I will wait, if that is what you require.”

Tight anxiety blossomed into relief in my chest, touching my face in the shape of a small smile, a breathless laugh. “Thanks, Vorik,” I say quietly. “I really appreciate it.” But there is something I have to do before our lesson, I finish in my mind. Out loud, I add, “I’ll be along soon. I won’t make you wait long. Promise.”

“I should hope not.”

With a quick nod, I take off down the corridor in the opposite direction of the Mess. With any luck, I can fix a thing or two and start setting my ugly mess straight.

[halfblood-fiend]

So, like, I might put more of my Vorik x modern!OC stuff on here because fuck it I should enjoy things and have 0 chill anyway. Plus, if someone else enjoys this background character as much as I'm doomed to think about him forever and they like what I put up then cool.

Not sure if it'll have a comprehensive origins story or not yet, or if it'll even make a lot of chronological sense. I've just got connections of fluff that range from pining to beginning of relationship to random domestic to years after in no particular order. I guess if people care enough, I'll order them more? Idk