Blargh. I Love Them.

Star Trek: Voyager, J/7: The Measure of Logic - Chapter 10 Posted

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62063797/chapters/163237201

Author's VERY IMPORTANT NOTE: Next week's chapter may be delayed as I will be stuck in Chicago all week and pretending to like people. I promise you all, I would rather be writing.

BUT, I may have time to revise and post Chapter 11 on my 14 hour train rides there and back, so we shall see!

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Fandoms: Star Trek: Voyager x Star Trek: Discovery

Relationship: Kathryn Janeway / Seven of Nine

Rating: Mature

Synopsis:

After Captain Janeway contracts an illness during an expedition to an uninhabited planet and orders USS Voyager to leave her behind, a certain hardheaded Astrometrics officer isn't so keen on abandoning her Captain. As Janeway and Seven learn to navigate the strange new dynamic forming between them, it becomes apparent that the planet they now call home has a much deeper story to tell--one that seems to defy logic, reality, and even the natural order of time itself. ----- This is a standalone fic but can be read as additional worldbuilding to my "For the Optics" series. Timeline runs about a year prior to the events of "A Binding of Stars."

Michael ^^ <3

Reach for them. Let them guide you.

Star Trek: Voyager, J/7: The Measure of Logic

Sneak peek of one of my favorite sections from later in this fic.

A hardness overcame Seven then, the alloys in her spine chaining her fractured emotions back together in some grotesque distortion of what Janeway had always insisted they could be. Was this what it meant to be human? This labyrinth of consternation and insecurity and doubt? To feel, from one moment to the next, while drowning under the gravity of her inability to draw any meaningful connections between them? What was the purpose? Janeway found her then, and Seven realized she had dropped into a crouch closer to the habitat floor. The tentative ghost of a palm encapsulated her knee as the Captain crouched before her and Seven carefully deflected its benevolence by righting herself. She feared the touch would melt the metal of the implant concealed beneath the biosuit and burn them both. “Must...you always…touch me?”

https://archiveofourown.org/works/62063797/chapters/158729248

For the love of all that you enjoy: DON’T PAYWALL YOUR FANFICTION.

Again, but louder:

DON’T PAYWALL YOUR FANFICTION

It’s getting more and more common. I’ve seen three posts about it in the last 24 hours - patreons where you’ll get “exclusive” fanfiction stories if you’re a subscriber.

Don’t.

Don’t do it.

It’s annoying, but mostly it’s fucking dangerous.

The whole fanfiction community prosper on someone else’s turf under “fair use” laws. In simple terms: we can play with other people’s creations for as long as it’s done for our own amusement, and that of our followers.

Once any kind of financial benefits are made, it becomes another abuse of someone else’s rights.

And look, I get it. It sucks, especially seeing the artists take commissions while the authors get nothing, and it takes hours and hours of our time, and I understand people are looking for a side hustle to make ends meet in this monstrosity of a capitalist society, but if we don’t stop it from happening, the rights owners will stop it.

And they’ll stop it for everyone.

It’s not worth it. Don’t do it.

Snippet from my newbie that will start hitting AO3 in the next month or so

“I had to scuttle Hood today.” Michael exhaled, the heel of her palm digging into her forehead. She remembered the way Tilly had sounded in her call earlier that day. Broken. Hollow. That intractable optimism she’d tried so hard to hold onto when serving on Discovery was distant now, worn thin and feeble over time, every transmission more defeated than the last. Michael hadn’t wanted to give her up, hadn’t wanted to send her away. She worried for her, for the things that could happen now, the things beyond her control. But Starfleet was desperate for another captain–for someone brilliant and stubborn like Tilly, who wouldn’t mind the oldest, shittiest end of the Starfleet stick. The only vessel to survive the attack on the museum. The only one not connected to the core at the time. The only one Control hadn’t even tried to take, to corrupt or destroy, because she was just too goddamned old. But Franklin could fly, and that was all that mattered. If anyone could keep her alive in this kind of fight, it was Tilly.

Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery

Rating: Mature

Relationships: Michael Burnham / Airiam, Michael Burnham / Control, Michael Burnham / Nhan

Synopsis:

Three years after the attack on Section 31 Headquarters, Starfleet and the Federation are on the brink. Planet after planet is falling to Control, every attack more devastating than the last. There are no patterns, no viable solutions to stop the carnage, and with their resources dwindling, the last Federation starships are at risk of being corrupted themselves.

But when the USS Discovery begins receiving encrypted transmissions from someone claiming to be Starfleet who seems to know everything about their enemy, Captain Michael Burnham is forced to decide whether their new source is truly an ally–or if Control is luring the Federation’s last bastion of hope into a trap.

Subversion Theory: Chapter 10 Posted

Subversion Theory Chapter 10

Every moment in this world felt hazy, every passing second inching her closer to some unknowable abyss, tamping down memory and morals, smothering instinct until she feared she might not know enough to run.

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Three years after the attack on Section 31 Headquarters, Control has the Federation on the brink. When the USS Discovery begins receiving encrypted transmissions from someone claiming to be Starfleet who seems to know everything about their enemy, Captain Michael Burnham sees one last shot to turn the tide. But as Control's obsession with her deepens and the boundaries between ally and adversary begin to unravel, its objectives evolve into something far more dangerous--and lead Michael to question if she's still in control of her own game.

Fandom: Star Trek: Discovery

Relationships: Michael Burnham/Airiam, Michael Burnham/Control, Michael Burnham/Nhan

Rating: Mature

YouTube

USS Discovery Bridge | Star Trek Ambience

USS Discovery without the terrible writing and cornball acting.

When I really need to get into the space-writing zone, this is where I go 🙃

Snippet from The Farm at Wardenwood Hollow

On the dryer, the old tabby cat she’d inherited with the apartment was coiled tight into a wad of scraggy fur on a pile of clean clothes she’d folded and forgotten to put away. He purred in his sleep, oblivious to her presence in his soundless, elderly world, so she tapped twice on the fabric to let him know she was home. He blinked and unfurled, long and ribby, mouth gaping open in a nearly-toothless yawn. She held out her hand and he bumped his head against it, then turned in a circle and curled back up on the clothes.

“Rough day?” she asked him, smirking as she rolled the towels and laid them in the cabinet beneath the sink. “Must be nice, freeloadin’ like you are. Ain’t even got the good graces to hear me when I’m talkin’.”

From the medicine cabinet, she pulled out the bag of prescription cat food, dropping a couple scoops into the bowl she kept on the shelf behind the washer and dryer, then wetting it with water from the sink. The tabby watched her, blinking slow and uninterested as she worked, then yawned again when she was done.

For a few seconds, Taryn stood there with her hands on her hips, same as she always did, waiting for the cat to decide whether or not to waste the food, same as he always had.

“Heck with ya,” she said after a minute, then flipped the switch for the fan and the light over the tub. “But I ain’t leavin’ it out all night this time. You damn near put me in an early grave dumpin’ that last bowl while I was sleepin’.”

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Synopsis:

Taryn Monroe prefers simplicity–her place in the mountains, the predictable rhythm of her job at the mill, and the peace that comes with keeping to herself.

Every Tuesday, a woman shows up at precisely fifteen minutes to close. Taryn doesn’t know much about her–just the rumble of her truck, the way she never wastes words, and the peculiar gallon of sulfur she buys each week.

Then one Tuesday, she doesn’t show up.

Taryn tells herself to leave it alone, that it’s not her business and the woman can handle herself. But when she overhears an argument and starts asking questions, she can’t shake the feeling that something is wrong–and her life becomes anything but simple.

Something wild is living in the barn at Wardenwood Hollow–something keeping the woman bound to the old Sterling Farm.

And Taryn may be her only chance to break free.

"I’m not supposed to be here."

Breathe, Judith commanded herself. In and out. It’s just a ship. Just another goddamn ship. But it wasn’t. She wasn’t sure how she knew. Ithaca was beautiful, the flawless, blinding white of her walls an homage to the glory of Gestalt’s ambition. The pride of her builders shown in every bolt and every weld, but every inch of her demanded deference from the ones whose lives she’d carry into the abyss. Nearly a thousand souls aboard and yet Ithaca had none, her hull an empty carapace against the vastness of the void, and so, she required theirs. The vessel rumbled beneath Judith’s feet, but it wasn’t pleasant like Ardent. It was a warning to her, like Ithaca knew Judith wasn’t like the rest–like she knew Judith didn’t really belong there at all. Judith was an intrusion, an unexpected variable this entity hadn’t foreseen–one she didn’t quite understand how to bend. She doesn't want me here.

Me explaining Voyager to my friends in a nutshell.