prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, OCs
Rating: Mature/R
Tags & Warnings: Vampire John, Angel Sherlock, Religious Themes, Demons, Vampires, Angels, Fallen Angels, Unhappy Ending, Revenge, Hell, Spiritual Corruption, John's life being all terrible all the time
Notes: A prequel to Graceless by belladonna_q, with her kind permission.

John learns, with clawing, bloody slowness, how to fend for himself. He learns the capacity to love wasn’t taken from him, or the need for it. He learns what it is to starve. To need things that aren’t given to him.

Hell is not a place, but a state. )
prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Rating: PG
Tags & Warnings: magical realism, fantasy, magical circus
Notes: Written for a Tumblr prompt from thatworldinverted

By daylight, the palomino and the black stallion can be found side by side on the carousel, transfixed in place via metal poles through their backs as they ride in endless circles for the delight of children.

At night, after the crowds have gone home, Sherlock and John stroll, shoulders bumping, through the sulphurous haze of the sodium lamps on the abandoned midway. When they pass the chuckling mechanical fortuneteller, John stops Sherlock with a touch to his shoulder and heads over to drop in a token.

She does her chortling dance over her crystal ball, and drops a ticket into the chute. 954876, it reads.

"You don't have to stay," John says, just like every night.

Sherlock gently pulls the ticket from John's fingers and drops it in the rubbish bin. "You owe this debt for my sake, John. I won't leave you to pay it alone." He wraps his arms around John and pulls him close, and keeps him there while they walk through the tattered magic of the circus after-hours.

In the morning when the box office opens, the black and the palomino are back on the carousel. The next night, John consults the fortuneteller again.

953436 revolutions to go.
prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Characters: Wolfwood, Vash (hadn't shown up by the point I ended at)
Rating: PG-13 (violence, language)
Tags and Warnings: Wolfwood resurrection fixit fic

Notes: Dug this old thing out of my WIPs folder while doing a meme. It's...actually really good, considering I wrote it four or five years ago.

Inspired by Rebo’s “Shades of the Past”, written lo these many years ago but still extant on God help me, I usually avoid even trying to read these, but her story gave me a bona fide idea for my own “resurrect Wolfwood” fic. If you’ve read hers, the first few chapters will look somewhat similar, mainly because both consist of Wolfwood wandering around alone on a gun-happy desert planet. I am, however, heading in an entirely different direction.

This story is based on the manga, where the characters have room to be deeper, more nuanced, and more conflicted and the plot spins out to a more spectacular conclusion. If you’re not familiar with the differences…well, the important points are that Vash and Knives are thoroughly noticeable by the end of the manga, literally warring in the heavens. That Plants can burn through their energy and die if they use it too fast (such as by warring in the heavens). And Zazie the Beast is given more explanation than a simple brush-off as “a demon.” It is, in fact, a member of the planet’s native sentient race. But most of the things that matter are the same in spirit if not in particulars.

This story is gen. That means there won’t be shonen-ai, but one of the things I want to do here is explore the powerful connection that exists between Vash and Wolfwood, so don’t be surprised by some powerful emotional undertow. Consider it UST if you like. In many ways, it’s similar. I think sex often gets substituted for more complex emotional tensions because frankly it’s easier to resolve—a cheap high, if you will. I don’t plan for this to be easy, tidy, or cheap, but it will be intense.


Chapter 1: Prologue

The desert breathes. )
prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Merman Sherlock

For lap-otter, who totally isn't writing stories about Merlock.

Frankly, I'm astounded I pulled this one off. I thought it was going to be too much picture for me, but it came out surprisingly smoothly. But I am pretty damn proud of it (for the moment; by next week I will probably only be able to see the flaws).
prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes
Rating: PG
Tags and Warnings: AU, fantasy, Hiatus, angst
Notes: Written for [ profile] shefa for her Touchstone universe, with her permission. Partner piece to I leave a trail of breadcrumbs to show you where I've been.

When Sherlock comes to London, he visits his grave.

It’s selfish to come here like this, to take without giving, not to mention foolishly risky. But his friends—he may as well admitting to having them, now, since Moriarty already cut each of their names out of him in chunks—pile their hearts up in glittering pebbles before his headstone, and Sherlock can’t stop himself from coming here to feel the warmth he never let himself bask in when he had the chance.

It’s so lonely, this thing he’s doing. Even if he wanted to, he couldn’t afford to share himself. He has no one close enough to him to touch his wishstones, to understand him. No true human contact, only the cold impersonality of common physical touch.

It’s as if he never met John, never learned how to open his heart. He spent so long unable to wish that now, with no one to reach out to, it doesn’t seem real that he can. Some days the panic chokes him, that it’s all in his head, that he’s forgotten how again, that there’s nothing left of him to share and no one waiting and no reason to come back home.

That’s why he has to return to his grave: to remind himself that it’s real. )
prettyarbitrary: (Fuzzy Cthulhu)
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes (sort of)
Rating: PG-13 (death)
Tags and Warnings: Major character death. Deathfic. Trigger warnings for grief.
Notes: Written for the gift exchange, for a prompt from TheMuchTooMerryMaiden (aka toomerrymaiden on Tumblr). I...nominally held to it.

Massive, Mount Everest, tectonic-plate-sized props to my betas, thisprettywren, persian_slipper, and gelishan, without whom this flat-out wouldn't have gotten written. The word 'stalwart' is not sufficient to describe them.

Before you murder me for what you're about to read: you can find the sequel/companion piece, Final Hours on bendingsignpost's LJ.

In the end, John knew exactly where things had started to go wrong.

He doesn’t always need the cane, but he carries it because sometimes, when it gets cold, his right leg buckles. Gone are the days when it was psychosomatic. These days it’s arthritis.

It’s threatening rain today—in London, what a shock—and the knee has things to say about that, but John’s resisting the cane anyway. He’s 65, damn it, he’s not feeble. He can walk perfectly well, run when he needs to, carry things for the landlady.

So when he hears a woman cry out down a side street, nothing’s stopping him from running to her aid.
So when he hears a woman cry out down a side street, nothing’s stopping him from running to her aid. )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: John Watson, Sherlock Holmes, Irene Adler
Rating: G
Tags and Warnings: Gen-ish, geniuses outsmart themselves, BAMF John, spoilers for "A Scandal in Belgravia"
Notes: The prompt in question.

No one ever asks John.

They don't want to know what he sees. They don't want to know what he thinks. They only ask his opinion when they already know he has the wrong answer and there's a point to be made from it. They—‘they' having expanded over the years to encompass not only Harry but also his adviser in med school, his commanding officers, Sherlock, Mycroft, various co-workers, some employees of Scotland Yard, and now from the looks of it Irene Adler wants in on the action—order him about, casually suborn his life, scathingly point out the large mathematical difference between their IQs and his when he gets so uppity as to try to weigh in on a conversation, and they sure as hell don't tell him anything.

By and large, John doesn't care. Hell, most of the time they're right, at least when it comes to the Holmes brothers. He seldom sees anything they don't. And John's self-esteem sure as hell doesn't depend on what other people think about him or, good god, Sherlock would've driven him to suicide by now. Which is a lesson he'd share with Molly if she'd only listen.

But sometimes... )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Rating: PG for face-punching
Tags and Warnings: gen, post-Hiatus, no spoilers, angst, a bit of h/c
Notes: Written pre-season 2, based on the "The Final Problem." Unless things suddenly get way more serious with Sarah in S2, I am guessing that BBC!John will not soon be getting married or establishing a tidy little medical practice in the suburbs, and otherwise does not enjoy the well-adjusted middle class lifestyle of ACD’s canonical mid-life Watson.

From a prompt on the BBC Sherlock kink_meme. Paraphrased: Holmes' explanation of why he had to fake his death was crap. Give him a good one. Then give him the punch he so richly deserves anyway.

I have been wanting to do this since I first read those stories almost 20 years ago.

‘Shock’ did not remotely cover it.

John knew about shock. He hadn’t passed out when a bullet ripped his shoulder apart in Afghanistan, or when he’d been strapped into his own portable bomb, or even that time he had fallen out of the tree when he was 11 and tried to stand up and felt his ankle fold over on him like a collapsing straw; but the cognitive dissonance of his dead best friend standing in his bleeding doorway was enough to make his brain register critical system failure and shut down for reboot.

His last memory before the world flipped over and went away was of that impossible voice cursing in surprise.

When he came to, he was sprawled in his favorite chair with the taste of scotch on his lips. He didn’t remember getting drunk, but he must have done, because that was one hell of a…something he’d just woken up from. He groaned and rubbed at his face, then looked around to assess the damage.


Was standing in front of the fireplace.

The world began to tilt sideways again. )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson
Rating: PG-13 Tags and Warnings: gen, 5+1 fic, mild angst, focus on the friendship
Four places John can’t follow Sherlock, and one place Sherlock can’t follow John. )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, ensemble
Rating: PG (a bit of language)
Tags and Warnings: gen, crack, internet humor, Moriarty is a troll, Sherlock discovers fanfiction, general ridiculousness Notes:   Written for a prompt for the Sherlock kink meme.
Sherlock and John discover that the internet is full of disturbing things.
John clicked the 'post' button and watched the 503 error pop up for a fourth time. "Bloody internet."
Sherlock flicked a glance at him over his newspaper. "Problems with your blog?"
"Yes." With some effort, John restrained himself from hitting his keyboard. Read more... )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Okay, so I was working on this, and I've totally stumped myself. Tarrant and Damien are on the verge of a particularly magnificent hissy fit, but I can't figure out where to go with this! Blarg. Anyway, I figure this piece might amuse.

The night was chill... )

As I sat there pondering the last line, suddenly an image popped into my head of Tarrant, with a bad case of bedhead, a bathrobe draped over pajamas, and a cup of coffee steaming in one hand. Granted, that's probably difficult to see if you're not wigged out from exhaustion late at night, but there you are. I could have Damien laugh in the man's face from that image...but they really should both stay on the boat. Any suggestions?
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Fandom: Coldfire Trilogy, by C.S. Friedman
Characters: Gerald Tarrant, Damien Vryce
Rating: PG-13

Notes: Set quite near the end, when they finally get that little bastard Calesta. Spoilers...sorta. Heh. Oh yes, and written by C. S. Friedman, not mine, boo hoo, I wish I'd thought of them.

Last Thoughts )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: Gerald Tarrant, Damien Vryce
Rating: PG-13
Notes: set between When True Night Falls and Crown of Shadows, during the last month of the voyage home. The Coldfire Trilogy was written by the spectacular Ms. C.S. Friedman, and I am receiving no money for this. Cheers!

After everything they’ve been through, Tarrant and Damien Vryce race home to prevent the demon Calesta from destroying the Church, human civilization, and everything they hold dear. With his only companion a cold undead sorcerer, Damien feels he carries the burden alone, and it weighs.

Waking in the dark, Damien’s head throbbed from his latest nightmare. )
prettyarbitrary: (Default)
Characters: Gerald Tarrant, Damien Vryce
Rating: PG-13

Notes:  Set during Black Sun Rising after the group arrived in the Rakhlands.

The missing scene from Black Sun Rising: the night they bonded. )


prettyarbitrary: (Default)

October 2015

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