laurajv: Darth Vader trimming topiary (darth gardener)
In Hand (1828 words) by Laura JV
Chapters: 1/1
Fandom: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Relationships: Hux/Kylo Ren
Characters: Hux (Star Wars), Kylo Ren
Summary:

"I will see you punished for this."

"I'm sure you will," Ren answered.

laurajv: Don't give me any wild ideas! (Default)
I started off by writing a ridiculously long and boring dialogue between Jim & Spock about Vulcan marriage contracts, and it devolved into a series of shorts.

Most of the marriage contract stuff ended up on the cutting room floor, sadly.
laurajv: Don't give me any wild ideas! (Default)
Posting here for the dayshift:

Title: Bei Mir Bist Du Schoen.
Rating: Explicit
Archive Warning: Author Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Categories:F/M, M/M
Fandom: Captain America (Movies)
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers; James "Bucky" Barnes/Original Female Character
Additional Tags: Pre-Serum Steve Rogers
Language: English
Summary: Bucky Barnes and the Great Sexuality Crisis of 1938.
laurajv: Don't give me any wild ideas! (Default)
Vincent raised his hand to block out the sun, hot in an orange sky, but still the light glancing from the walls of the stone city hurt his eyes. He'd been a creature of moonlight and candlelight since birth.

"You have never been to the Goblin City," said a voice close behind him, and he turned; a tall, slim man stood on the hill with him, not even a foot away. He could not hear the man's heartbeat, and he did not smell human; he smelled of lightning and earth and a little of owl. There was no human scent on him at all, not even underneath the surface.

The man smiled, a flash of uneven teeth, longer than human, with eyeteeth drawn almost to the vicious points of Vincent's own. "I have waited long to show it to you," the man said. His silver hair blew back from his face, though there was no wind on the hill.

"Who are you?" Vincent asked.

The man ran a gloved finger down his own cheek. "Oh," he said, "someone rather less human than you are."

Vincent flicked his eyes up and down, looking the man over, and huffed out a skeptical breath. The man laughed, and a sudden flicker of the sun -- a stutter of darkness in a cloudless sky -- made his face seem to shift, as if some demon looked out from his skin. Vincent drew back, startled; the sun settled again in the sky, and the man looking at him was just a man: tall, gloved, shoulders broad beneath leather armoring, cloak drifting about his body like night.

"Yes," the man said, "we've a touch in common, haven't we?" He held out his hand. "Come with me, and be my heir. Or solve the Labyrinth, and I shall tell you whatever truths you seek, at the end of it."

Vincent looked out over the mazed city; he had solved greater labyrinths than this, alone, in the dark. "I cannot leave my world," he said. I cannot leave Catherine, even though she is lost. "And not all truths are knowable."

"Wise man," the man said. "I shall tell you two truths, then, when you find my Castle: the names of your parents, and the location of the woman you love."

Vincent thought of everything he knew of magic, every bargain that could and could not be struck with Fair Folk. "And if I do not solve your labyrinth? What price do I pay, then?"

The man tossed a glass ball lightly into the air, where it hovered, spinning. "If I cannot tell you where she is," he said, "she will die. There is no changing that part of time: you must learn of her location from me, or not at all. Is that price not terrible enough?"
laurajv: Holmes & Watson's car is as cool as Batman's (quick watson to the batmobile)
Title: The House That Was
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Rating: F is for Funeral
Notes: Written for "The Case of the Underground" at [community profile] sherlock_flashfic.

The House That Was, at AO3.
laurajv: Uhura says "Don't make me turn this ship around" (don't make me turn this ship around)
See master post for headers & chapter links

These end notes contain spoilers for the story "Contamination".

End notes )
laurajv: Holmes & Watson's car is as cool as Batman's (quick watson to the batmobile)
Title: Contamination
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Rating: 15+
Wordcount: ~17,000
Summary: In which an artistic murder draws Irene Adler and her brother Nathan into the lives of Lestrade and Holmes, and Dr John Watson balances his morals against the happiness that is a warm gun.
Other locations: AO3 (no warnings) // [livejournal.com profile] sherlockbbc header post (with warnings)

Heartfelt thank-yous to the following people:
[personal profile] basingstoke, without whose support and thoughtful contributions this story would be an unfinished blob of text;
[personal profile] beatrice_otter, who found a major characterization problem and helped me think of ways to fix it;
[personal profile] ngaio, for the thorough Britpick & beta, including a lot of class information that informs John's character;
and [personal profile] mandragora, who went above and beyond the call of duty and generously gave of her limited time to school me on British legal and police procedures. In the process, she corrected some severe errors at the outline stage, and saved me much heartache and grief.

Without their help, this story would have died on the vine.

Index: 1. Something is going to be horrid // 2. And the rain sets in // 3. Your shadow on my wall // 4. The voyeur of utter destruction // 5. A small plot of land // Epilogue: Toll the bell // End notes
laurajv: Holmes & Watson's car is as cool as Batman's (quick watson to the batmobile)
Title: Nine Cigarettes
Fandom: Sherlock (BBC)
Warnings: Choose not to warn.
Rating: 13+
Summary: How Sherlock Holmes acquired a number of Lestrade's cigarettes.
Other locations: AO3

Notes: Thanks to [personal profile] basingstoke for the beta, and [personal profile] mandragora for the Britpick & beta. Any remaining mistakes are mine alone.

Nine Cigarettes )
laurajv: Banzai Institute Logo (buckaroo banzai)
Jim kicked at the floor of the cave. Six hours. Six long, boring hours before the Enterprise was back in transporter range; with any luck the angry, prison-happy Elarians wouldn't find them first. He looked over at Spock, who was leaning against the cave wall with his arms around his knees and his eyes closed. He'd been that way for two hours, and Jim was pretty sure he wasn't asleep. Right now, though, Jim felt like he needed some conversation to break up the complete boredom of being trapped in a cave.

He took two steps and tapped his boot against Spock's boot. "Hey."

"Captain," Spock answered, eyes still closed.

"So you're half-Vulcan. A hybrid."

A long pause. "You are aware of that already, Captain."

"So, are you fertile?"

Spock's eyes flew open as his eyebrows flew up. "Of course," he answered.

"Most hybrids aren't."

Spock's eyebrows climbed, if possible, even further up towards his hairline. "I'm genetically engineered, and my designers were not idiots."

Jim raised his own eyebrows, now. "I wasn't suggesting they were," he said. "Just that they might not have been able to fix that."

"I know you achieved satisfactory grades in your biology and xenobiology coursework," Spock said. "I see no reason to discuss the choices my designers made about my biology with you at this point."

Jim sat down. "Small talk. This cave is exceptionally boring, in case you failed to notice, and it's either small talk or six hours of tic-tac-toe, Mr. Spock."

"Spare me," Spock said, closing his eyes and leaning his head against the wall again.

Jim frowned and drummed his fingers on his thigh. "OK. Hey, do Vulcans have casual sex?"

"Is that a proposition, Captain?"

"No."

Spock opened his eyes again. "Then it depends on what you mean by 'casual sex'."

Jim waves his hands. "Sex. With someone. Without--things. Like, do Vulcans ever pick up a partner in a, a, spaceport tea shop or whatever, have sex, and never see the person again?"

"It is uncommon, but it does happen. More frequently in pornographic material than in reality."

"Vulcans have porn?"

Spock looked at him like he was insane, which: OK, every OTHER sentient species Jim could think of had pornography, so why he thought Vulcans wouldn't... "You all seem so buttoned-up," he said, by way of explanation.

"Vulcans do not have casual sexual relationships," Spock said, after a minute. "Humans often seem to have sex with their friends, for mutual pleasure, with no attachment beyond that. Vulcans do not have that form of casual sex."

"Huh. Because you don't have friends, really?"

"Captain. Vulcans are social beings. But our alliances, associations, and relationships are constrained by our telepathic abilities; casual sexual relationships with associates or friends are likely to form telepathic linkages that are...undesirable and possibly dangerous."

Jim grinned. "So, you're really serious about Uhura, then? Don't get her pregnant, please, Mr. Fertility; she'd have to go on starbase or planetside duty and then who would keep me in line?"

"Lieutenant Uhura," Spock replied -- somewhat primly, Jim thought -- "is a sensible person and it is not any of your affair what reproductive choices she and I have made about our relationship."

"Oh, good, she's got an implant."

Spock looked offended. "I did not say that, Captain."

"You didn't have to. That's what a sensible person would have."

"This is an exceedingly inappropriate conversation."

Jim drew a tic-tac-toe grid on the ground with his finger, and was gratified when Spock rolled his eyes. "Next question! Ever thought about sex with men?"

"Are you going to pursue this line of inquiry for the next five-point-seven-three hours, Captain?"

"Probably."

"Will you be at all dissuaded if I simply cease to answer?"

"Probably not."

"Perhaps I shall endeavor to find out," Spock said.

"Spoilsport. I won't tell anyone about your fantasies. Cross my heart."

Spock laid down on his side and closed his eyes. "I am going to sleep, Captain. I suggest you do the same." Jim watched as Spock's breathing deepened, then scuffed out the tic-tac-toe grid with his boot, and stretched out next to Spock, close enough to feel his warmth but not quite close enough to touch.

"Spoilsport," he muttered again, putting his hands behind his head, and feeling sleep overtake him.
laurajv: The Vulcan Community Finds Your Shenanigans Illogical (t'pau)
Bones flung himself into the chair opposite Jim, and glared.

Jim clicked off his screen and steepled his hands on the desk, in his best Bones-annoying-Spock-impersonating manner, and waited. He did not have to wait long.

"Vulcans," said Bones, "breed like rabbits, apparently. The new population numbers just came out. Over ninety percent of Vulcan women of childbearing age had kids last year. Over half of them had twins. That's just unnatural."

Jim blinked at him. "So maybe it's not. Maybe they're all hopped up on fertility drugs. So what?"

"They're not, that's the thing, Jim. That's the word on the med-net, anyway. They're not importing or manufacturing any fertility drugs. They've got no surviving reproductive specialists and they haven't requested any from Rigel. They're doing it the old-fashioned way. Whatever the Vulcan old-fashioned way is, and they're as tight-lipped about that as an Aldebaran shellmouth." He paused, contemplatively. "Maybe they're budding."

"Maybe they have an evolved mechanism for dealing with catastrophic population loss once returned to a resource-rich environment," Jim said, and Bones stared at him as if he'd grown three heads. "What? I passed Galactic Evolutionary Schemata with honors. As a first-year."

"I hate you," said Bones, with feeling.
laurajv: SLASH: UR DOIN IT WRONG (highlander duncan/amanda)
Chris was making sandwiches for the deli case when he heard Elmo calling him from outside. "Chris! Chris!" Elmo ran into the store and straight into Chris's legs. "Chris, Elmo has news!"

"What is it, Elmo?"

"Someone new moved in, Chris, next door to Gordon! Come meet him with Elmo."

New people on Sesame Street were often uncomfortable with monsters and grouches unless humans cushioned the first few interactions, and most of the monsters sensibly took humans along with them on new-neighbor calls. (Grouches do not make new-neighbor calls, unless you count appropriating new-neighbor trashcans.) It wasn't anti-monster prejudice, exactly, Chris thought, as he reached down to take Elmo's hand. It was more that most humans from elsewhere didn't know monsters existed.

Or talking giant birds, or talking bears, or fairies, either, come to think of it.

This new neighbor, though, was sitting on the stoop next to Oscar's can. Elmo and Chris could hear Oscar cackling in grouchly joy at something the new guy was saying. Chris sized him up: white, probably mid-30s, accent, wearing a long coat despite the midsummer heat. The guy's face creased as he smiled at Oscar, and Chris was suddenly unsure of his age.

Elmo, emboldened by someone unfazed by Oscar, let go of Chris's hand and charged ahead. "Elmo is here! Elmo wants to welcome you to Sesame Street!"

"Welcome! Hah!" said Oscar. "More like welcome back. He has a recipe for stinky fermented anchovies in cream."

"That doesn't sound very nice to Elmo," said Elmo.

"I also have a recipe for zabaglione," the new guy said, holding out his hand to shake Elmo's, gently. "Much tastier. And I know some excellent cookie recipes, if that Cookie Monster fellow still lives here."

"He does," Chris said, reaching the stoop and holding out his own hand. "Chris."

"Adam," the man said. "An uncle used to live here, long ago. I visited as a child."

"How long ago? My uncle and aunt have been here forty years; maybe they remember him."

"Oh," Adam said vaguely, "a while now. I mostly remember the monsters."

"So what brought you back?" asked Chris.

"Yes," said Elmo. "Why did Adam come back? Adam has been gone a long time."

Adam smiled down at Elmo. "Oh, I just thought it was time, is all."

Oscar laughed, and Adam shot him a look. "Heh," said Oscar. "Time. Time."

"Yes," said Adam, very quietly. "Time." He and Oscar stared at each other. Chris and Elmo looked from one of them to the other, wondering what was going on. After a few seconds, Oscar disappeared into his can, slamming the lid hard. They could hear him laughing from within.

Chris looked up at Adam, and found Adam looking thoughtful. "Grouches," Adam said, and smiled again. "I wonder if anyone understands them." The smile didn't quite reach his eyes, and Chris felt a slight chill up his spine. It worried him; he didn't usually meet people who gave him chills up his spine on Sesame Street. (Though there had been that fellow who tried to get Big Bird to move to a different habitat. That guy had been upsetting.)

"Elmo thinks other grouches understand," said Elmo, oblivious. "Does Adam want to meet the other monsters? Elmo can introduce Adam!"

"Thank you," Adam said. "That would be lovely." He nodded politely to Chris, took Elmo's hand, and walked down Sesame Street, his long coat brushing the backs of his knees. Chris watched them until they entered the Fix-It Shop, then returned to Hooper's and his unfinished sandwiches. He wasn't sure about this guy, and that was weird. He'd have to watch, and wait, and think.

At least Adam seemed to like monsters.

January 2017

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