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ceciffeinated · 2 years

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non-stop. | ꒰ daisuke kambe ╲ short story ꒱

⪩ ☁︎．pairing: daisuke × cherloque (oc). ⪩ ☁︎．scenario: in the dead of the night in 221b baker street, london; in their shared apartment for eight months, give or take. ⪩ ☁︎．warning: none; completely sfw; heavy, heavy fluff. ⪩ ☁︎．note (i): if you sensed any hamilton references, you could tell where i have been; this had been in my drafts for literally three days then episode four dropped-

⠀⠀her is a host unto herself. as long as she can hold a case file, and a pen and paper, she's a damn threat.

⠀⠀to herself.

⠀⠀she works non-stop; writing day and night, studying day and night, going after the villains day and night with every opportunity she saw. however, even if she's not neck deep in her investigatory works, she'll pop by in charities and social events not (just) to boost her popularity, but also to boost her presence among the citizens of england or of britain, in general.

⠀⠀her strenuous work ethics was the one that brought her to her knees and humble herself to follow the doctor's orders: to rest regularly, to eat regularly, to relax more than usual, to work less than usual — basic simple self-care that she seldom does to her own self.

⠀⠀daisuke noticed that already.

⠀⠀and it's getting on his nerves. strangely.

⠀⠀he has been with haru kato for more than two years, and yet, he was only being nerved by a petite englishwoman who took up a lot after her own father.

⠀⠀he knew it ran in the blood — the frigid blood of a holmes kin that knew no boundaries in the profession of consultant detective.

⠀⠀it seemed so foreign to him still - the duality of cherloque amelie soleil holmes.

⠀⠀at one profile, she seemed to show the facade of a flirty and flighty adler - charming robin who knew how to spread her wings and fly in the skies filled with attractive parasites and pests of the british society. she just had a way with words that could be wither seductive, persuasive, and alluring. she also seemed to have an upper hand in every conversation where she's included. she leaves no stray comment and always made sure her words are pointed and sharp in any educated topic. a true mark as the daughter of a dominatrix.

⠀⠀on the other profile... she's just as controlled, restrained, and unexpressive as a holmes. this kind of a cher conveyed the most inhumane face of all, most especially when a case keeps on pulling her to be involved. there's not time for rest, eating, or leisure. most of her time were always spent sitting on the chair, in front of her father's worn desk; flipping the pages of multiple case files; reviewing similar scenarios that and differentiating multiple changes that could have affected the current motion of the recent crime. she seeked no comfort nor encouragement but only immense silence and centered focus on the task at hand. a true symbol as the kin of a renowned criminologist.

⠀⠀her duality - despite their fellowship for the past eight months - still fazed daisuke. but he never had the heart to voice it out. he's never the type to express himself in a way that could make people think he's an inferior to a certain woman's little world.

⠀⠀a world that seemed to be non-stop.

⠀⠀it was in the middle of a dead night, but the two individuals in 221b baker street were still awake - the other one was diligently working in the living room/study, the other one was looking from the doorframe of the guest bedroom. neither one could sleep not could approach each other.

⠀⠀the former was untoucable; the latter was hesitating for once in his life.

⠀⠀suddenly... there was a vibration in his pajama pocket. daisuke quickly shuffled his back and retrieved his phone, seeing it's a call from mourgane, cher's cousin and the current president of england's top most security association for criminologists.

⠀⠀❛ good evening, ❜ daisuke greeted. ❛ is there something the matter? ❜

⠀⠀❛ an associate passed by the apartment an hour ago, and when he passed by it again three minutes earlier, he informed me that the lights seemed not to go out. may i boldly assume that cher is still awake? ❜

⠀⠀❛ yes. ❜ daisuke couldn't tell a lie. it was the truth, after all. was there something he missed with the habit?

⠀⠀mourgane sighed on the other line. it was a heavy, distressed one as if she was asking if the toddler was being naughty and she was. mourgane said, ❛ please tell her to go to bed right this instant. i could tell this had been going for a few days behind your back. ❜

⠀⠀daisuke remained quiet. now that the cousin gave him direct orders, it seemed he really needed to step up and bring it upon himself to put cher to bed.

⠀⠀❛ is it really my responsibility? ❜ but, of course, he's not just gonna do that directly. after all, it's her own life, not his.

⠀⠀❛ your partner is your responsibility, mr kambe, ❜ mourgane retaliated coolly. ❛ cher, no matter was trait she's possessing at the very moment, is at your disposal. whatever reason we may have, you have the ball in your court and cher, per our agreement for the sake of the japanese partnership and personal relationship gain, have no choice but to follow you. ❜ she exhaled as if she was proud of her declaration. ❛ are we clear on that? ❜

⠀⠀ ❛ ... ❜

⠀⠀❛ mr kambe. ❜

⠀⠀❛ yes. ❜

⠀⠀mourgane chuckled. she added, ❛ you don't need to be afraid of cher. she may be flighty and feisty ... easily aggravated ... and snappy. but, at some point, she actually needed someone to remind her that she's not inhumane. i am relying on you. ❜ there was a distant knocking heard on the other line. ❛ i have a late night visitor and i will leave my cousin in your capable hands. ❜

⠀⠀daisuke nodded slowly. like before he said, "yes."

⠀⠀❛ a little note of warning, ❜ mourgane piped up. "do not give her narcotics. you will pay with your life if you do."

⠀⠀the line went dead.

⠀⠀and daisuke could still hear the prominent flipping of pages.

⠀⠀he cannot believe he was thrusted in this situation. but his actions seemed to have their own consequences and he needed suffer for them.

⠀⠀he padded out of the guest bedroom and went in the living room vicinity where cher was working diligently as ever.

⠀⠀❛ cher, ❜ daisuke said. ❛ go back to bed. ❜

⠀⠀cher seemed to turn the other cheek, pretending not to hear him. her fingers... they were holding the pen as if her life depended on it. she kept on writing, scribbling, scrawling, jotting down whatever thoughts that raced down in her mind - mostly messy scenarios that were squelching inside her overworked brain.

⠀⠀she's writing non-stop. she's reading non-stop. she's working non-stop.

⠀⠀"cherloque." daisuke tried again. "i said go back-"

⠀⠀"i heard what you said and i don't want to," cher suddenly snapped, blowing him off in the same language (with slight informality).

⠀⠀daisuke began to wonder how the hell jordan was able to put up with this act with almost every night of her life in 221b baker street.

⠀⠀'but direct orders from miss holmes mourgane cannot be winged,' daisuke thought, reaffirming himself.

⠀⠀daisuke, decidedly, took 10 paces forward and stood beside cher's chair. he clasped one hand on her shoulder and, once again, addressed her, saying (with his learned english accent), ❛ love. ❜

⠀⠀it was as if by magic cher suddenly stopped writing, her hand frozen suddenly into place, her body stiffening.

⠀⠀daisuke leaned down to her body's height and whispered, "go back to bed. now."

⠀⠀cher didn't say anything. but she did shook her head slowly in response.

⠀⠀'it's either i'm responsible for you or your cousin and my department will responsible for my execution,' daisuke thought, slightly irritated. 'i value my life.'

⠀⠀❛ you're coming to bed right now. ❜

⠀⠀daisuke looped one arm below her knees, the other supporting her back; carrying her in a bridal style. cher exclaimed, dropping her pen on the desk. cher was suprised she's suddenly lifted like that without any warning. her face suddenly blossomed a full shade of pink as her arms instinctively wounded themselves around daisuke's neck. her hair flounced up, but because she put it in a really, really, really loose ponytail, it suddenly let loose by itself and her hair brown hair cascaded down.

⠀⠀❛ w-wait! daisuke! ❜

⠀⠀❛ no. direct orders from your cousin. ❜

⠀⠀❛ she can't tell you what to do! ❜

⠀⠀❛ well, she reminded me you are at my disposal. ❜ daisuke looked at her directly with firmness in his gaze, as if scrutinizing her. ❛ love. ❜

⠀⠀cher hunched her shoulders as she crossed her arms, slightly pouting. a total childish move that opposed her holmes ethics.

⠀⠀she suddenly turned kind of cute.

⠀⠀❛ daisuke... ❜

⠀⠀was she actually whining? he couldn't be sure.

⠀⠀❛ my room is in the other way. ❜

⠀⠀her complaint was turned away, just like how she turned her other cheek earlier, because he entered in the guest bedroom where he was residing. without sharing another word, he plopped cher down in the middle of the bed and immediately tucked her in. he didn't give her any chance to speak her mind.

⠀⠀the night continued on and in the wee morning... someone entered the apartment.

⠀⠀❛ there. ❜ after tucking her in, daisuke followed suit, lying down next to her but not close enough for skin contact. ❛ now sleep. ❜

⠀⠀it was erebos. he turned to the direction of cher's bedroom. it was vacant.

⠀⠀he took the other way and entered the japanese police's room.

⠀⠀and there he was - spooning the spent englishwoman in his arms. it was as if he was keeping her warm as possible or keeping her in her damn place, knowing how the night went.

⠀⠀❛ i'll be out here, ❜ erebos whispered and exited, making himself feel at home in the living room. "goddamn it, haru, you're right. but we're dealing with idiots in denial, not with detectives in love."

⪩ ☁︎．note (ii): republished for archiving purposes; heavy wip; under semi-hiatus.

#fkbu #fugou keiji balance unlimited #daisuke kambe #daisuke kambe x oc #daisuke kambe x reader #daisuke kanbe #daisuke kanbe x oc #daisuke kanbe x reader #daisuke x reader

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archival-account-2 · 4 years

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non-stop. | daisuke kambe [drabble]

❛ 𑁍 pairing: daisuke kambe x cher

❛ 𑁍 scenario: in the dead of the night in 221b baker street, london; in their shared apartment for eight months, give or take

❛ 𑁍 warning: none; completely sfw; heavy, heavy fluff

❛ 𑁍 note: if you sensed any hamilton references, you could tell where i have been; this had been in my drafts for literally three days then episode four dropped-

cher is a host unto herself. as long as she can hold a case file, and a pen and paper, she's a damn threat.

to herself.

she works non-stop; writing day and night, studying day and night, going after the villains day and night with every opportunity she saw. however, even if she's not neck deep in her investigatory works, she'll pop by in charities and social events not (just) to boost her popularity, but also to boost her presence among the citizens of england or of britain, in general.

her strenuous work ethics was the one that brought her to her knees and humble herself to follow the doctor's orders: to rest regularly, to eat regularly, to relax more than usual, to work less than usual — basic simple self-care that she seldom does to her own self.

daisuke noticed that already.

and it's getting on his nerves. strangely.

he has been with haru kato for more than two years, and yet, he was only being nerved by a petite englishwoman who took up a lot after her own father.

he knew it ran in the blood — the frigid blood of a holmes kin that knew no boundaries in the profession of consultant detective.

it seemed so foreign to him still - the duality of cherloque amelie soleil holmes.

at one profile, she seemed to show the facade of a flirty and flighty adler - charming robin who knew how to spread her wings and fly in the skies filled with attractive parasites and pests of the british society. she just had a way with words that could be wither seductive, persuasive, and alluring. she also seemed to have an upper hand in every conversation where she's included. she leaves no stray comment and always made sure her words are pointed and sharp in any educated topic. a true mark as the daughter of a dominatrix.

on the other profile... she's just as controlled, restrained, and unexpressive as a holmes. this kind of a cher conveyed the most inhumane face of all, most especially when a case keeps on pulling her to be involved. there's not time for rest, eating, or leisure. most of her time were always spent sitting on the chair, in front of her father's worn desk; flipping the pages of multiple case files; reviewing similar scenarios that and differentiating multiple changes that could have affected the current motion of the recent crime. she seeked no comfort nor encouragement but only immense silence and centered focus on the task at hand. a true symbol as the kin of a renowned criminologist.

her duality - despite their fellowship for the past eight months - still fazed daisuke. but he never had the heart to voice it out. he's never the type to express himself in a way that could make people think he's an inferior to a certain woman's little world.

a world that seemed to be non-stop.

it was in the middle of a dead night, but the two individuals in 221b baker street were still awake - the other one was diligently working in the living room/study, the other one was looking from the doorframe of the guest bedroom. neither one could sleep not could approach each other.

the former was untoucable; the latter was hesitating for once in his life.

suddenly... there was a vibration in his pajama pocket. daisuke quickly shuffled his back and retrieved his phone, seeing it's a call from mourgane, cher's cousin and the current president of england's top most security association for criminologists.

"good evening," daisuke greeted. "is there something the matter?"

"an associate passed by the apartment an hour ago, and when he passed by it again three minutes earlier, he informed me that the lights seemed not to go out. may i boldly assume that cher is still awake?"

"yes." daisuke couldn't tell a lie. it was the truth, after all. was there something he missed with the habit?

mourgane sighed on the other line. it was a heavy, distressed one as if she was asking if the toddler was being naughty and she was. mourgane said, "please tell her to go to bed right this instant. i could tell this had been going for a few days behind your back."

daisuke remained quiet. now that the cousin gave him direct orders, it seemed he really needed to step up and bring it upon himself to put cher to bed.

"is it really my responsibility?" but, of course, he's not just gonna do that directly. after all, it's her own life, not his.

"your partner is your responsibility, mr kambe," mourgane retaliated coolly. "cher, no matter was trait she's possessing at the very moment, is at your disposal. whatever reason we may have, you have the ball in your court and cher, per our agreement for the sake of the japanese partnership and personal relationship gain, have no choice but to follow you." she exhaled as if she was proud of her declaration. "are we clear on that?"

"..."

"mr kambe."

"yes."

mourgane chuckled. she added, "you don't need to be afraid of cher. she may be flighty and feisty... easily aggravated... and snappy. but, at some point, she actually needed someone to remind her that she's not inhumane. i am relying on you." there was a distant knocking heard on the other line. "i have a late night visitor and i will leave my cousin in your capable hands."

daisuke nodded slowly. like before he said, "yes."

"a little note of warning," mourgane piped up. "do not give her narcotics. you will pay with your life if you do."

the line went dead.

and daisuke could stilm hear the prominent flipping of pages.

he cannot believe he was thrusted in this situation. but his actions seemed to have their own consequences and he needed suffer for them.

he padded out of the guest bedroom and went in the living room vicinity where cher was working diligently as ever.

"cher," daisuke said in japanese. "go back to bed."

cher seemed to turn the other cheek, pretending not to hear him. her fingers... they were holding the pen as if her life depended on it. she kept on writing, scribbling, scrawling, jotting down whatever thoughts that raced down in her mind - mostly messy scenarios that were squelching inside her overworked brain.

she's writing non-stop. she's reading non-stop. she's working non-stop.

"cherloque." daisuke tried again. "i said go back-"

"i heard what you said and i don't want to," cher suddenly snapped, blowing him off in the same language (with slight informality).

daisuke began to wonder how the hell jordan was able to put up with this act with almost every night of her life in 221b baker street.

'but direct orders from miss holmes mourgane cannot be winged,' daisuke thought, reaffirming himself.

daisuke, decidedly, took 10 paces forward and stood beside cher's chair. he clasped one hand on her shoulder and, once again, addressed her, saying (with his learned english accent), "love."

it was as if by magic cher suddenly stopped writing, her hand frozen suddenly into place, her body stiffening.

daisuke leaned down to her body's height and whispered, "go back to bed. now."

cher didn't say anything. but she did shook her head slowly in response.

'it's either i'm responsible for you or your cousin and my department will responsible for my execution,' daisuke thought, slightly irritated. 'i value my life.'

"you're coming to bed right now."

daisuke looped one arm below her knees, the other supporting her back; carrying her in a bridal style. cher exclaimed, dropping her pen on the desk. cher was suprised she's suddenly lifted like that without any warning. her face suddenly blossomed a full shade of pink as her arms instinctively wounded themselves around daisuke's neck. her hair flounced up, but because she put it in a really, really, really loose ponytail, it suddenly let loose by itself and her hair brown hair cascaded down.

"w-wait! daisuke!"

"no. direct orders from your cousin."

"she can't tell you what to do!"

"well, she reminded me you are at my disposal." daisuke looked at her directly with firmness in his gaze, as if scrutinizing her. "love."

cher hunched her shoulders as she crossed her arms, slightly pouting. a total childish move that opposed her holmes ethics.

she suddenly turned kind of cute.

"daisuke..."

was she actually whining? he couldn't be sure.

"my room is in the other way."

her complaint was turned away, just like how she turned her other cheek earlier, because he entered in the guest bedroom where he was residing. without sharing another word, he plopped cher down in the middle of the bed and immediately tucked her in. he didn't give her any chance to speak her mind.

the night continued on and in the wee morning... someone entered the apartment.

"there." after tucking her in, daisuke followed suit, lying down next to her but not close enough for skin contact. "now sleep."

it was erebos. he turned to the direction of cher's bedroom. it was vacant.

he took the other way and entered the japanese police's room.

and there he was - spooning the spent englishwoman in his arms. it was as if he was keeping her warm as possible or keeping her in her damn place, knowing how the night went.

"i'll be out here," erebos whispered and exited, making himself feel at home in the living room. "goddamn it, haru, you're right. but we're dealing with idiots in denial, not with detectives in love."

#daisuke kambe #daisuke kenbe #daisuke kambe x oc #daisuke kanbe x oc #daisuke x oc #fkbu x oc #daisuke kambe x reader #daisuke kanbe x reader #daisuke x reader #fkbu x reader

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md-admissions · 5 years

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Tagged by @homotologist and of course I’m gonna do it.

Nickname— md-a. I don’t have a nickname I go by in the real world.

Zodiac sign— Cancer

Height— 5′4″

Hogwarts House— Gryffindor

Last thing I googled—"Etsy Hand of the King Pin” And yes I’m thinking of how to incorporate that into my work wardrobe

Favorite musicians— AC/DC, Led Zeppelin

Song stuck in your head— Talk by Khalid

Following—820

Followers—22467

Do you get asks—Yes

Amount of sleep— first year fellowship has me clocking 7-8 hours

Lucky number— 16

What are you wearing— white button down, grey pants, blue socks, white coat (work clothes)

Dream job—Infection control/hospital epidemiologist championing diagnostic stewardship and writing about the need for cultural change in medicine at an academic hospital where I could still do weekly clinic seeing patients with HIV. Or CDC EIS.

Dream trip— Horseback riding across the Gobi desert. I don’t know why. I’ve always wanted to do this.

Hobbies-- tending to my houseplants, baking, Marvel movies or just action movies, watching action movies while baking, reading, trying to foods, listening to educational podcasts

Languages— I know two other languages aside from English

Favorite fruit-- CHERRIES. Leave me alone with a giant bowl of cherries.

Random fact— I cannot ride a bike

Aesthetic— Coastal meets Scandinavian, Amy Santiago from B99, if Sherlock Holmes had Marie Kondo organize 221B Baker Street and Marie Kondo agreed not to throw out any houseplants, normcore with rock and roll touches

Tagging: honestly anyone!

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schattenkriegerin · 7 years

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Fandom

There’s no place I cannot be since I found Serenity.

These wonderful places are offered by science fiction/fantasy series and films; they fascinate us with their stories, their characters, possibilities and dreams. Flee from reality!

They teach us to…

….walk until the end and to plan beyond

….stand up for what’s right

….find love even in the darkest places

….see the inner beauty

We feel with the characters, see ourselves in them and even think we could fit in the stories. We are the Whovians, the Potterheads and Sherlockians; the Hunters, Tributes and Demigods.

We belong to the Avengers, the Watchers at the wall and the Fellowship.

The Films and Series make us believe in so much more between heaven and earth. In magic, a galaxy far, far away and that time isn’t linear, it’s more a wibbely, wobbely, timey, wimmey thing.

But as wonderful as it is, it also has a dark side…

….on 1st September I couldn’t go to Hogwarts

….I will never see an X-Fighter or Serenity in the sky

….there will be no blue box landing in my garden

….and I will not drive in an Impala with two brothers

For me they are more than just stories, they are a piece of home. If it’s 221B Baker Street, the Serenity or the Millennium Falcon, it doesn’t matter, because a Home doesn’t need to be a house, and family doesn’t begin and end with blood.

#firefly #lotr #panem #the host #the fault in our stars #doctor who #harry potter #sherlock #supernatural #percy jackson #avengers #game of thrones #star wars

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elljayvee · 6 years

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First Lines Meme

RULES: List the first lines of the last ten stories you published. Look to see if there are any patterns that you notice yourself, and see if anyone else notices any! Then tag some friends.

@beatrice-otter tagged me! I tag: @basinke, @travellinglemonworkshop

1. The first time John brings Rosie by after Sherrinford, it's on her first birthday. 221B is still under renovation, but John's bedroom is finished; John's bedroom has a cot in it, squeezed next to John's old bed, the one he'd left behind when Sherlock was -- gone. (an infinite series of accidents; Sherlock/John, Sherlock)

2. Rosie turned one without her mother, with Molly and John singing to her in some kind of sick parody of happy families. After Rosie was tucked in her cot for an afternoon nap, John made tea, and he and Molly sat at his kitchen table, holding hands, letting the tea go cold. "She's a lovely child, John," Molly said. (Where are we now?, Sherlock gen)

3. In Lothlórien, Gimli took advantage of a quiet moment in their camp, when the Men were away on some errand, to unpack khî pack and sort through it, repairing anything broken. “What's that?" asked Frodo, pointing at khî funnel. Gimli hesitated, not sure how to describe what it was for without giving away that khi was not, as they all assumed, male-sexed. (From Sweet Fellowship Comes Nectar, Legolas/Gimli, LOTR)

4. Legolas sprawled on his back on a camp-bed, in the tent he shared with Gimli. He was more than a little drunk, and had been so since the war's end. The celebration at Cormallen had been followed by feasts and days upon days of wine and song, and he was fond of wine, but now he could sense a calm coming. "Next we shall go to the city, I suppose," he said to Gimli. (Numberless the ways, and imperceptible., Legolas/Gimli, LOTR)

5. The warm summer breeze curled through the Burrow, three days after Harry's nineteenth birthday. He ran one hand up Ginny's leg to her knee, and then lifted her foot to his shoulder. The sole was dirty; some hours ago Ginny had kicked off her shoes. He kissed the side of her foot and inhaled. He remembered Hermione talking about the smell of freshly mown grass the day Slughorn had Amortentia in the classroom, and wondered if it was a familial thing. Ginny smelled of grass, too, green summer grass under a scorching sun. (Flaming Aground (I’ve Said Too Much), Harry/Ginny, Harry Potter series)

6. Loki had converted a space near the quarters he shared with Thor for Sleipnir, and Thor found them both there one ship's-night. He wondered if he should ask what was being done with Sleipnir's manure, and opened his mouth only to have Loki interrupt before any sound issued forth. (Ship’s night, residential deck, third corridor, Thor:Ragnarok gen)

7. Gudrun and three other women set to work on a still in the ship’s galley. Gudrun has never built a still before, but she has operated one since she came of age, in her father’s distillery. She learned to repair them with her own hands, and building one is not so different. King Thor will approve, she is sure, both for the sedating qualities of drink and the disinfective properties of the alcohol. They have no soul-forge, no real healing facilities — nothing but the inadequate contents of the ship’s small infirmary. It is outfitted for the sorts of injuries one sustains in vigorous sexual activity, not in a world-destroying battle. First-aid supplies only go so far, with sword wounds and burns to the bone. (The Silent Man, Thor:Ragnarok gen)

8. An Alliance commander that Biggs didn't recognize stuck her head into the pilots' lounge. "Heard there was someone here from Tatooine?" (A Standard List of Questions, Star Wars gen)

9. "Poe. Look at me." (Commentfic: Shields, sort-of Poe/Luke, Star Wars)

10. Kylo Ren hung in the bacta tank, his hair drifting like snakes around his face; the breather a parody of his usual vocoder-mask. The medical droid wheeled up beside the tank and clicked to get Hux's attention. "He will awake in two minutes, General." Hux nodded an acknowledgement, studying the knitted scars over Ren's side, the muscles over the plane of his stomach. He did not let his hands curl into fists; anger at an unconscious man was pointless. (In Hand, Kylo Ren/General Hux, post-Star Wars: The Force Awakens)

What I learned: I like to pick up threads, loose ends, and I like to try to make sense of the (often nonsensical) canon that we have. The only outsider POV I use is Gudrun’s; it’s not a common technique for me, and when I use it, it is there for a very specific purpose. (I love reading outsider POV stories -- there’s lots of kinds of stories I don’t write but love to read, and that’s one of them.)

Most of the stories are couplets -- two stories in the same fandom, written close to the same time (1&2, 3&4, 6&7, 8&9). Flaming Aground is, as well, although the story I wrote at the same time is incomplete and unpublished, so that leaves In Hand as the only odd man out.

From the titles, I notice that I consider punctuation part of the title: Numberless has a period at the end, and that’s intentional and part of the title. It’s more obvious when there’s a different punctuation mark (Where are we now?) but it’s always intentional. I hadn’t realized that I do that.

I start almost all of these off with a sense of place (Shields is the only exception, and it was commentfic -- so less thought-through and deliberate than the others). It’s important to me to put characters in their environment, and the chosen environment can add a sense of intimacy or of distance. The difference between 221B in an infinite series of accidents (repetition of John’s ownership of the space increasing intimacy even though John does not live at 221B at the time) and the comfort/homey-ness of the Burrow in Flaming Aground (Harry and Ginny are comfortable enough to have romantic contact in her parents’ house) and the coldness and impersonal space of the medbay in In Hand is a big part of setting the story’s tone. infinite is ABOUT intimacy and its complications; Flaming Aground is about comfort and playfulness and communication, and In Hand is about angry people who wouldn’t know intimacy if it bit them.

I want to talk a little about the first two story couplets on the list, because I think the first lines tell you important things about the differences between the stories, and because the stories in these couplets are extremely closely related for stories that aren’t sequels to each other.

an infinite series of accidents and Where are we now? are both post-S4 Sherlock stories with an asexual Sherlock and a heterosexual John. They’re in nearby universes -- they even share some dialog in the early parts of the story — but infinite is a much more hopeful story overall. The creation of intimacy in the first paragraph tells you, right off the bat, where Sherlock (the POV character for the whole story) stands re: John, and it’s an unwavering thread through the whole: Sherlock wants him home, and doesn’t want him to leave, ever, and is hopeful that this can happen.

Where are we now? starts off in John’s home, without Sherlock there, and it’s sad and bitter. It is emphasizing disconnect, the death of Mary, and the way Sherlock isn’t as present in John’s life anymore. Molly’s presence is a lifeline, a way out, a marker that all is not lost. infinite isn’t a fluffy story -- I’m not interested in apologizing for John’s violence -- but it tackles the issues of the Sherlock-John relationship post-S4 from the point of view of healing and connection, rather than the point of view of fear and the struggle for self-control.

From Sweet Fellowship Comes Nectar and Numberless the ways, and imperceptible. are both Legolas/Gimli, and they both address cultural differences and the difficulty people can have communicating their needs and desires. At their hearts, they are both about being seen. Sweet Fellowship is about how people see you vs. how you see yourself, and about how people with a different vision of themselves navigate an unseeing world. Gimli’s cultural background provides khî with emotional armor, but khi also comes to recognize certain dangers and corrosive fears that come along with navigating the world of Men. The opening line tells you that Gimli’s sex is not male and that khi uses an unfamiliar pronoun with no translation into Westron/English, so it brings you into the cultural differences immediately and clearly.

Numberless is about learning to see yourself, when everyone else already sees you accurately. Legolas’s cultural background makes his journey more difficult, rather than offering him protection as Gimli’s did in Sweet Fellowship; he’s ancient and set in his ways, and isn’t expecting a radical emotional change in his life -- so he doesn’t recognize it when it happens. It opens with Legolas in close proximity to Gimli, and with indications of intimacy, but also with Legolas being drunk and somewhat careless of himself and of what’s going on around him. He spends a great deal of the story avoiding self-awareness in any way that doesn’t fit into his entrenched idea of himself, and that’s set up right from the start.

#meme #writing #my fic

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