photos… and… blog posts?
new… photos? new cases?
new cases!!!! NEWPHOTOSNEWCASES
Title: The Sigerson Letters, Part 11: June 14th
Authors: makokitten & h3rring
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson, Irene Adler
Pairings: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, slight Sherlock Holmes/Irene Adler
Warnings: Violence, allusions to past abuse
Summary: A month after the Fall, John Watson begins receiving emails from a young fan who calls himself Jeremy Sigerson, a fan who seems determined to keep an eye on John and single-handedly spread the truth about Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty. But that’s surely a task too monumental for one man, isn’t it? Unless the man is…
LJ | AO3
Apparently he spent a little time composing a love letter to John Watson when she wasn’t looking. “And don’t argue,” Irene says to herself, holding her nails up to the light. “It is a love letter. Everything you’ve written him drips with admiration, and that’s nothing compared with what he’s written you.”
If you want us to see your reactions but don’t want to comment on AO3 or LJ, make sure to tag them “#the sigerson letters”! (Or reblog this post and write them here.)
My long-overdue commission fic for ChapBook from the DashCon auctions! But there’s a catch:
You, the people, can do anything you want with this fic. It’s a meeting!fic, and a good basis for future steampunk adventures, but I don’t have time to write them! If you find that you want to write them, or draw them, or fanmix them, or whatever, you are free to use this fic and its concept however you want, in whichever way you want. If you do, just tag it “steampunklock,” reference the Bits and Bobs ‘verse, and poke me so I can squeal over it gleefully. If there’s enough interest, I’ll create a Bits and Bobs collection on AO3 to keep everything together. Have fun playing!
Also on AO3.
Doctor John H. Watson lost his good arm in Afghanistan to one of those newfangled Beam Cannons. He’s not sure why anyone ever wanted to upgrade from the regular ones that’d just hurl cannonballs at you, but it’s a new age now, an age of steam and glory, as the most patriotic call it, and things like Beam Cannons exist. One of the men in John’s regiment had attempted clumsily to explain how they worked, back when John was feeling warmer toward them. You know, back when he still had a left arm.
The medical men who treat him say that he’s lucky to have any bits at all, considering that most people who get hit by those things are instantly vaporized. They send him back to London with the highest commendations, an army pension, and a tingling sensation in fingers that are no longer there when he wakes up in the morning. John Watson finds himself left with spare change in his right pocket, a limp, and no idea what to do with himself next.
That changes when he has a run-in with Mike Stamford, old friend, who takes him aside in the corner of the Criterion and says, “I think I know someone who can solve all your problems.”
Silly Sherlock Summaries: Charles Augustus Milverton (Fuck That Guy)
Want to know what’s up with that Charles Augustus Milverton/Magnussen guy anyway? In too much of a hurry to pick up the story? Just don’t feel like reading? You’ve come to the right place! Here is a very silly summary of “The Adventure of Charles Augustus Milverton” by Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Apologies for any verbal flubs or inaccuracies; I was recording in a bit of a hurry! I hope you like it.
3:00: I meant Mr. Pickwick, like ACD says. Milverton doesn’t have facial hair. Magnussen does, apparently, but Milverton doesn’t.
8:37: The most accurate Sherlock Holmes impression you will ever see, ever. Guaranteed.
Title: The Duplicious Detective, Chapter 5: The Threat
Rating: Soft R
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, Joan Watson, Irene Adler
Summary: A dynamic detective, a disgruntled doctor, and a damsel who isn’t in all that much distress, thank you very much. In which a case of identity involving Sherlock Holmes himself threatens to turns several worlds upside-down, the Watsons are left to clean up the mess, and Irene Adler? Well, she just does what she wants. Elementary/BBC’s Sherlock crossover.
LJ | AO3
“I assume you’re familiar with the name Charles Augustus Milverton?”
He opens his mouth, unsure, in present circumstances, whether he’s surprised, excited, or disgusted. “I am.”
“I’m… not,” says Joan, glancing between him and Irene. “Who’s Charles Augustus Milverton?”
Title: The Sigerson Letters, Part 10: June 11th - June 13th
Authors: makokitten & h3rring
Characters: Sherlock Holmes, John Watson (unrequited Sherlock/John), Irene Adler
Warnings: Spoilers for “The Reichenbach Fall”
Summary: A month after the Fall, John begins receiving emails from a young fan who calls himself Jeremy Sigerson, a fan who seems determined to keep an eye on John and single-handedly spread the truth about Sherlock Holmes and James Moriarty. But that’s surely a task too monumental for one man, isn’t it? Unless that man is…
LJ | AO3
Who the hell is this? Where is Jeremy?
Rebecca is sick into the toilet. It’s not the first time she’s been sick into the toilet today. At least this time, she knows the cause is purely emotional.
She doesn’t want to leave the bathroom. Luckily, she doesn’t need to. Her cell phone is in the pocket of her coat. She hadn’t taken her coat off before coming into the bathroom, she was that nervous. Her fingers are still shaking. She almost drops the phone twice. Thank god he’d put himself on speed dial.
As a phone rings across the Atlantic, she flushes the toilet and edges away from it until her back finds the rim of the tub. She curls her knees to her chest. After what seems like an eternity, Victor answers. “Rebecca, hello?”
The first thing out of her mouth is a sob, muffled by her hand.
“Sweetheart.” He’d been asleep. His voice is all gravelly. He’s not anymore, though. “Sweetheart, what’s wrong? Take your time.”
“Is it very far?” Irene asks Sherlock as they sprint away from the remains of the terrorist group that had been about to execute her. Technically, they weren’t the Islamic extremists they called themselves, but a terroristic team assembled by James Moriarty on behalf of several governments who wanted Irene Adler interrogated, tortured, and executed. Going by how she’s hobbling and how she winces when Sherlock tries to wrap an arm around her shoulder to steady her, they succeeded at the torture, if not at the execution.
“Not far now,” he says. “Stay with me.”
She nods. Her large eyes are unfocused and distant, staring out into the dark night. “I think I hurt my ankle—” Her voice is matter-of-fact, detached. “—I did, but now I can hardly feel it.”
“Adrenaline.” Shock as well, possibly, but he doesn’t want to worry her. “We’re almost there. I brought a friend of yours.”
“Oh.” She sounds puzzled, as if she can’t imagine who he’d bring. Surely she noticed that a sniper was making quick work of most of the terrorists? Only a few men around London with that specific skill set.
Victor Trevor, a mutual associate (of sorts), meets them at the Jeep. When he sees Irene limping, he begins fussing over her terribly. He’s tenderer with her than Sherlock could ever be, and he helps her into the back seat and straps her in, stroking her hair, lowering his voice, kissing her forehead. Her eyelashes flutter in response.
“I don’t understand why you’re being so kind to me,” she says dreamily. “Reminds me of a line from a play, ‘I’ve always depended upon the kindness of strangers.’ A Streetcar Named Desire, that’s it. Everyone remembers the movie now. Marlon Brando. I suppose it’s…”
She trails off. Sherlock shifts uneasily. Victor says, “We’re hardly strangers.”
Irene presses her lips together. “You’ll have to forgive me, then,” she says, resting her head back against the seat, closing her eyes. “I’m having a great deal of trouble placing your faces.”
Victor looks at Sherlock. Sherlock just stares at Irene, realizing that this rescue operation might be far more complicated than they thought.