Two Sherlock BBC Fics
Sep. 12th, 2011 10:37 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
coffeebuddhaTitle: Moonlight Becomes Yo-DAMN IT ALL
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG-13/FRT
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Lord Byron/Charles Dickens
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count: 243
Notes: Written for the![[info]](../../img/userinfo.gif?v=3)
sherlockbbc_fic kinkmeme to fill the prompt "The first man to use the word 'bored' was Lord Byron in 1823. There has got to be something there." Also known as the fics where I turn Sherlock into a historical real person slasher.
Byron's elegant, ink stained fingers trace the line of Charles' collarbone, his lips twisting in a satisfied smirk at the shiver that goes through the other man. He bows his head, his mouth near enough to Charles' ear that his lips brush its curve when he speaks.
"It would be wrong to say you walk in beauty like the night. You are far too fair. No, the night models itself after you, and curses itself that all the stars in its skies will never shine so brightly as the light in your eyes. It weeps at the chance to lay a silver moonbeam across your whiskered cheek and bear witness to the serene beauty of your slumbering form-
"No! Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong," Sherlock mutters under his breath as he furiously scribbles through the writing in his notebook, his pen tearing through the paper in his fervor. There's a tap at his bedroom door, and he shoves the notebook under his pillow in case John decides to surprise him yet again by coming in. "What is it?"
"Lestrade's on the phone," John says through the door. Not coming in then, Sherlock thinks, nodding to himself as he retrieves his half completed story and scans it. "He said something about a murder?"
Sherlock huffs, his hand poised over a sentence that just doesn't quite sit right with him. Maybe if he tries a different adverb? "Not now, John, I'm busy with something important!"
Title: Electricity Sparks
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG-13/FRT
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count: 237
Notes: Written for the samesherlockbbc_fic prompt as the above.
Sherlock freezes in his bedroom doorway, his blood running both cold and indecently fast. Because Mycroft, who is home on holiday early from University, is standing next to his desk with a very familiar composition notebook in his hand. Reading. He rocks forward on the balls of his feet and then back on his heels, his mind racing as he tries to decide whether confrontation or flight would be the best option in this situation.
Unfortunately, just as he's finally about to choose, Mycroft says without looking up from the page he's reading, "Your prose is florid, your dialogue stilted, and on the third paragraph of the fifth page?" Mycroft pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet Sherlock's, the gleam in them telling him everything he needs to know about exactly how badly he miscalculated by assuming Mycroft would never miss the old stuffed bear he'd appropriated for his latest experiment with acid. This will surely be a killer blow then. "In the third paragraph of the fifth page, you said that Edison promoted alternating current, when really he favored direct current and Tesla favored alternating. Sloppy."
Sherlock staggers back against the door frame with a gasp, wounded to the quick.
Mycroft tucks the composition notebook under his arm and strolls casually out of the room, stopping just long enough to smirk at Sherlock and say, "I will, of course, be informing both Mummy and your tutors."
Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG-13/FRT
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Lord Byron/Charles Dickens
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count: 243
Notes: Written for the
sherlockbbc_fic kinkmeme to fill the prompt "The first man to use the word 'bored' was Lord Byron in 1823. There has got to be something there." Also known as the fics where I turn Sherlock into a historical real person slasher.Byron's elegant, ink stained fingers trace the line of Charles' collarbone, his lips twisting in a satisfied smirk at the shiver that goes through the other man. He bows his head, his mouth near enough to Charles' ear that his lips brush its curve when he speaks.
"It would be wrong to say you walk in beauty like the night. You are far too fair. No, the night models itself after you, and curses itself that all the stars in its skies will never shine so brightly as the light in your eyes. It weeps at the chance to lay a silver moonbeam across your whiskered cheek and bear witness to the serene beauty of your slumbering form-
"No! Wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong, wrong," Sherlock mutters under his breath as he furiously scribbles through the writing in his notebook, his pen tearing through the paper in his fervor. There's a tap at his bedroom door, and he shoves the notebook under his pillow in case John decides to surprise him yet again by coming in. "What is it?"
"Lestrade's on the phone," John says through the door. Not coming in then, Sherlock thinks, nodding to himself as he retrieves his half completed story and scans it. "He said something about a murder?"
Sherlock huffs, his hand poised over a sentence that just doesn't quite sit right with him. Maybe if he tries a different adverb? "Not now, John, I'm busy with something important!"
Title: Electricity Sparks
Author: coffeebuddha
Rating: PG-13/FRT
Characters/Pairing: Sherlock Holmes, Mycroft Holmes
Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me.
Word Count: 237
Notes: Written for the same
sherlockbbc_fic prompt as the above.Sherlock freezes in his bedroom doorway, his blood running both cold and indecently fast. Because Mycroft, who is home on holiday early from University, is standing next to his desk with a very familiar composition notebook in his hand. Reading. He rocks forward on the balls of his feet and then back on his heels, his mind racing as he tries to decide whether confrontation or flight would be the best option in this situation.
Unfortunately, just as he's finally about to choose, Mycroft says without looking up from the page he's reading, "Your prose is florid, your dialogue stilted, and on the third paragraph of the fifth page?" Mycroft pauses, his eyes flicking up to meet Sherlock's, the gleam in them telling him everything he needs to know about exactly how badly he miscalculated by assuming Mycroft would never miss the old stuffed bear he'd appropriated for his latest experiment with acid. This will surely be a killer blow then. "In the third paragraph of the fifth page, you said that Edison promoted alternating current, when really he favored direct current and Tesla favored alternating. Sloppy."
Sherlock staggers back against the door frame with a gasp, wounded to the quick.
Mycroft tucks the composition notebook under his arm and strolls casually out of the room, stopping just long enough to smirk at Sherlock and say, "I will, of course, be informing both Mummy and your tutors."
Thank you for reading! Feedback is always appreciated!