Smolensk (Beeblock Fic)

random-ficcery:

image

Title: Smolensk (Also On AO3)
Rating: PG-13/R (violence)
Fandom: Sherlock BBC
Characters/Pairings: Sebastian Moran/James Moriarty, Misc OCs.
Word Count:3,388
Disclaimer: Not owning, not profiting, no claiming of any kind. Nope.
Spoilers: Nope.
Warnings: Some, yes – Death of OCs, Non-graphic violence, Endangerment of major characters, Gratuitous partial-nudity, Wanton destruction of private property, Waste of perfectly good vehicles.
Original Prompt: lady_karasu said, “You referred to ‘what happened in Smolensk’ in that reward fic – so, tell me what happened.“
Summary: Seb goes along with Jim’s plan to infiltrate a Russian mobster’s home/headquarters, things don’t go according to plan, dangerous hijinx ensue.
Author’s Notes: I promised lady_karasu a fic for her birthday… *clears throat, shuffles feet*… in February. AHEM! So, yeah, at least it’s before the NEXT birthday, right? I mentioned the Smolensk thing in another fic and, although we discussed it briefly, she wanted the whole story as a fic. Finally, after much wrangling with the Muse and RL, here it is. Sorry for the wait, bebe, but here it is!

Yaaaaay, my gift fic!  *snuggles it*  It’s so /lovely/… in, you know, an explosive mormor sort of way.  ^_^  Thank you, Random~!  (Oh crap, I need to start working on yours, don’t I… I’m running out of time.)

erebusodora:

I’m not telling you any spoilers or opinions, but I want to write down my personal favourite line of all 2nd Sherlock season. It is:

Do you ever wonder if there’s something wrong with us?

I do wonder. Lots of times. Moffat, Gatiss, you have no idea of HOW EXACTLY you’ve portrayed my family relationships here. So – couldn’t keep myself from trying to paint my favourite brothers…

P.S.:
Mycroft in this very portrait is a shadow, a gothic cathedral, a foggy city, a strict system, capable of crumpling down, while Sherlock is a mixture of amorphous shapes, neither exactly dark, nor exactly white… I guess you can see my point here.

EDIT: MOAR DETAILS JUST BECAUSE U REQUESTED THIS AS A POSTER 

This art, which is lovely on it’s own (and I’m quite happy to see again ^_^), puts me very strongly in mind of ’Our gift to God’ every time I see it (which is a fic I adore and want more of. Badly.Still hoping the author continues.) 

“Tea and biscuits” – a post-Reichenbach ficlet

valeria2067:

Every time John turns the key to the flat, he feels an ice-cold stab of pain right through his heart.

“You should move out of there, John,” Lestrade had told him, “Why would you put yourself through that every day?”

John had just shrugged.  He couldn’t tell him the real reason: that he needed to have that intense pain. It was the only way he knew his heart was still there at all.

This evening, the key turns a bit more quickly and smoothly.

Not that John notices; he’s still wincing from the jolt. Still catching his breath and straightening his shoulders. Still preparing for the sight of a sitting room which seems more like a mausoleum.

A mausoleum with a tea tray, a steaming cup of Earl Grey, and a plate of ginger biscuits laid out carefully on the coffee table.

“What the—?” John scans the room but sees nothing else out of the ordinary. “Mrs. Hudson?” he calls.  “Mrs. Hudson, did you…..”

John throws his jacket onto the sofa and looks more closely at the tea tray.

There’s a tiny card next to the cup.  In tight, block letters, it reads “Drink Me.” 

Next to the biscuits, he sees a similar one. “Eat Me.”

John purses his lips.  “Right. Alice in Wonderland, now. Okay.”

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Day 10 – Not a Person

silverbit:

Title: Not a Person
Pairing: MorMor (Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran)
Word Count: 1,837
What the eff am I about to read: A little ficlet about de-stressing (Fluff, I showed Seb a little vulnerable yesterday I show Jim a little vulnerable today – KEEPIN’ IT EVEN)

For Of Tigers and Madmen – 30 MorMor Ficlets in 30 days for Nanowrimo so I apologize for the editing. Also I didn’t start writing till like 10 because I couldn’t think of what to write so that might be a good excuse too.

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Things had been – in a word – stressful this past week within the empire. No one weeps for the hard times of criminals but really it’s just frustrating when things don’t go to plan for anyone. Whether it’s a charity banquet falling apart around the caterer’s no show, or the fact that the guest speaker who was supposed to get a bullet in her temple, didn’t, because the charity banquet fell apart – there was always back lash. There were angry clients and contacts that needed to be reminded of their manners and he had to hire a new sniper after Dmitri didn’t think to find another shot for the woman at the charity banquet. Oh and shall it be mentioned there was now an investigation in Dmitri’s disappearance because apparently he’d started up with some panicky little bint who’d called the authorities when he’d been gone for over 24 hours. Not that they were going to turn up anything. But it was very annoying to have to pay an actor of Dmitri’s height and general appearance to go make purchase with his credit card in stores with grainy security cameras.

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