Holmes Fanfic: Let Not Thy Wrath Befall Them
Title: Let Not Thy Wrath Befall Them
Author: dealliasnape (HarmonyMarguerite)
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: Oh, I'd say this one manages to be NC-17
Summary: Based on a prompt on sherlockkink. The anon asked for Angel!Holmes and Demon!Watson, and this is what I came up with.
Notes: Okay, This is like, the longest thing I have written in awhile, and the longest non-cracky thing I have written in eons. So, I apologize for the awfulness. Also, I don’t even know what this is. I’m soooo sorry OP, if this is not anywhere near what you wanted. I used Movie!verse, hope that’s okay. Because, I kinda liked it like that. Oh, and beware the endless run-on sentences, and my love affair with the comma and semi-colon. Sorry. And I cannot write sex for my LIFE. So… it’s slightly glossed over. Again, sorry.
The title a line from a poem by Kipling, "Hymn Before Action" If anyone cares, it's "For those who kneel beside us/ At alters not Thine own,/ Who lack the lights that guide us,/ Lord, let their faith atone;/ If wrong we did to call them,/ By honor bound they came;/ Let not thy wrath befall them,/ But deal to us the blame."
***
Holmes was slumped in his armchair as I came in; head pillowed on one armrest while his legs dangled off the other side. His arm covered his eyes; the other dangling uselessly to the floor, and he didn’t bother to move as I approached. A bad day then, though no signs of his black mood seemed to be approaching. For the moment, I could ignore him and tend the fire; for, unless it was involved in a current experiment, he rarely marked it, and it had, therefore, gone out. The fire was usually my first priority, for he felt the cold this time of year far more easily than I, and I would not ignore his comfort no matter what he thought of himself.
“Should I be expecting Mrs. Hudson anytime soon?” I asked softly, deftly bringing the warmth of the fire into the room. He would be icy at first, but I could warm him quickly. Mrs. Hudson, while knowledgeable about her borders, for such a thing was unavoidable, had never been comfortable seeing me without a human skin hiding my more outlandish features.
“No. I believe she is done with me for the day. If you want your tea, you’re going to have to call her.” He returned, finally raising his arm enough to look at me and send a slight smile my way. “You are free to be yourself, my dear boy.”
“Always a delight to hear.” I commented, shedding myself of my garments and crawling to him, unfurling large red and black wings as I went. “Headache?”
“A slight one.”
“Can I get you something?” I entwined our fingers from his dangling hand, for it looked so lonely on the floor. It did not please me that I had been right, and his skin was chilled to the touch.
“It will pass.” He blinked blearily at me; his eyes not ready to focus after the weight of his arm, and I could not help but trace the line of his jaw with an elongated nail. He shivered slightly, moving further down the chair to look at me better.
“Did something happen while I was gone?” He rarely got headaches, but when he did, they were almost always caused by something, or someone. When I left to take care of an emergency patient, he was relaxing, for once; able to be himself for the first time in weeks.
“Lestrade came.” That would explain it than. Lestrade, though useful, tended to incur stress in him. Especially with an unannounced visit, where Holmes would have had to donned his human skin far too quickly for comfort.
“Oh? Anything interesting?”
“Only if you care about the failing investigative techniques on behalf of Scotland Yard. He walked away delighted, I can assure you.”
I frowned, but made no verbal reply. He was always at his lowest when he could solve a case without leaving the room. Contrary to what I have written before, when the high of expectations, all of his excitement, when the possibility of a case that would tax his abilities darkens his door falls to disappointment because he barely had to think for a solution, he is far more despondent than when boredom forces his hand to the cocaine bottle. If Lestrade didn’t occasionally prove his use by bringing a truly involved problem once in a while, I should have wiped him from the face of the earth a long time ago for his petty difficulties that so disappointed my friend.
Holmes gently pulled on my hand, a subtle gesture to bring me on the chair with him. However, from past experience, I knew his armchair to be an awkward fit, not at all conducive to what he needed at the moment. I pulled him gently down to me.
Perhaps I was forever pulling him down, but he fell so prettily and easily into my arms, it is an action I cannot bring myself to stop, nor regret. He had never shown any regret either.
A smirk crossed his face as I held him over me, arranging us on the floor. “Did you need something, my dear?”
“Only you.” I replied. “Only ever you.”
His smile was almost blinding, and I wondered again why one such as him deigned to stay here, amongst these pitiful humans, fighting every day for them to have a bit of peace, while his own nature destroyed him for touching their filthy problems. He was not meant to walk this earth as I did.
He easily read the question on my face, he always did, and whispered against my lips, “You know very well why.”
Our kisses always start light, in moments such as these; the feather-light caress of skin, always more of a tickle than a true caress, the slight burning that accompanied such activities only increased the sensation. It was truly a dance, in these moments. Every second choreographed, ever delight and touch though about with only the desire to bring the highest amount of pleasure in the longest amount of time.
“Show me,” I whispered into his mouth, once I had divested him of clothing. “I want to see you.”
His chuckle was low and velvety, but he did as I asked.
There were rules we lived by, we had decided long ago, else we would never settle into the lives we so desired and only ever be at odds with each other, and that was something neither of us wanted. Out there, he was the leader, he was the strong and masterful one, a necessity during his cases, and I was happy to simply follow him. In here though, behind these walls, it was I who led the way. Oh yes we argued. It could not be helped, for our very natures are so opposite that there should be nothing to hold us together. Our anger; however, was never permanent, and we always came back to how we were; how we were meant to be, because even when I followed him, it was always towards one end, one goal above all.
He was mine. Mine to care for, mine to keep alive, mine to use in the pleasures of flesh and bone, mine to coddle, pet, and comfort, and to use however I chose. Forever and always mine, and I would move Heaven and Hell, destroy the earth and those who walked on it, to keep it that way.
As his wings unfurled, I moved behind him, running my mouth down his spine. They were lovely, his wings, now that I had touched them. Before they had been a disappointing pure white that shone in the faintest light, but now the feathers were more a dusty grey, the tips forever turning blood red with black spines. To lie against his back, surrounded by them with my wings covering all was probably as near to perfection as I was allowed.
A shiver caressed his body as my face brushed up against a few feathers. They were inordinately sensitive, which I had used in the past to drive him mad with desire, but not today. Today I wanted to simply drive what remaining pain he had out of his body until he begged me for a moment of rest.
I brought a hand between his legs, it was always so delightfully warm, that small space where his legs met his body, I was always drawn to it, and always enthusiastic that such a space held other delights as well. My hand encountered smooth slickness, and I laughed a little, rising up on my knees and pulling him back to rest on them.
“Your headache can’t be to awful, you seem to have taken some time to prepare yourself.” Three quick fingers ensured my path.
“I had been hoping you wouldn’t be much longer.”
He raised himself, letting me guide his hips to fall back on my cock, his head falling back onto my shoulder, mouth wide and panting. I could not help but groan, encased in his warmth, and thrust up slightly, my tail moving without my permission to wrap around his waist and hold him closer to me.
There was not much leverage for either of us like this, but it was by far our favorite. I shall stay inside him for hours, gently rocking into him, while he shall try to rush, and rise too far, but I won’t let him. I will caress his prick with one hand, a light glide of flesh on flesh that shall drive him to eventually wreathing on me, almost working his way out of my arms. Then, I will capture him with my fangs, sunk deep into his neck. He’ll cry out in pain and still, his blood running freely down his neck and over both of us. I will drink then, and he will still taste like Heaven.
I so dearly love to make him bleed.
Eventually, I shall allow him to come, his seed captured in my hand as much as I can gather it. The only thing that would make me give up his blood is to drink his release. When I turn his head to kiss him, I will still have enough left in my mouth to feed to him. Only then shall I be free to spend myself deep inside him, allow him to feel my warmth coating his insides, and I will stay inside him, keeping my seed locked in him until our legs become stiff and we are forced to move to a bed.
For now, my left hand is free, and so it slides up his chest, covering his heart, and the faint scar that still remains there. He only smiles, and entwines our fingers, for he knows what the gesture means, though no words need pass between us of regrets or bad decisions.
There simply were none.
Once, I had literally held his heart in my hand. I had reached into his chest and pulled it out, beating into my palm. He had simply watched, disinterested, as I inspected the organ. It was beautiful, the type of heart I had longed for throughout eternity. It is well known that to eat the heart of your enemies is your reward in battle, and the act would enhance your strength with theirs. His heart looked to me as a fall apple to a starving man.
“It is yours.” He said, needlessly. “Do what you will with it.”
“Do you not care?” I asked. “It is your life, you should be begging me to spare it, pleading for your existence. Is that not what you are for, the continued existence and harmony of those creatures around us?”
He shrugged. “I never beg, and there is no point, when you will do as you wish no matter what I say. As for these humans, I have tried my best, yet I was not made to be strong enough to defeat you, that was my folly, deciding to be here today against all advisement. Perhaps this was his plan all along for me, or I went astray somewhere along the way. Whichever it is, as I have failed in my intent, you have earned the reward. My heart is yours.”
“Is it?” I moved closer to him.
To his credit, he did not back away, and it was a testimony to his innocence that he only looked confused at my words. “You have it in your hands.”
I’m afraid I laughed at him then, which he did not take kindly to. I didn’t explain to him the human expressions of devotion he had been professing unknowingly to me, for although their job was to save the humans and keep them safe from me, they were always kept far apart and away from emotions. To bring him to the understanding of why I was laughing would most likely take longer than I cared to.
That was the first time I underestimated him.
He intrigued me; however, this broken, bleeding angel standing so straight before and looking into my eyes. Very few had dared to, and those that did were all coveted by Him; therefore, rarely did we meet. He was beautiful, naturally, for they all were. Physically, I wanted him, but I wanted all of his ilk. I have always coveted the beautiful things, and there is nothing in all the realms as beautiful as His Angels.
I stood next to him, noticing his glance straying to a frozen group of humans. They were what we had been fighting over. I had claimed them, and this Angel had come to me, against the wishes of all who commanded him, and demanded I let them all free. It was laughable, this young, untried creature setting himself against me. It was no surprise he had lost.
“What would you do to save them?” I asked, tilting his face up so that I could look into his eyes.
“I have done all I am allowed to do for them.”
“That is not what I asked. What would you like to do, to save them?”
He brightened. “These few are so desperate to make a pact with you because their law has let them down. Do you see that man, over there? His lover was killed and no one can figure out by whom. I can.”
“There are no limits to what you could find out.”
“Using His knowledge would be cheating. It’s far more interesting to use your own brain to solve a mystery. If I could, I would help them. I could give them justice, the justice that they long for. If I could do that, they would have no need for you.”
I thought for a moment, an idea taking place in my mind. “You would need to be human for that.”
“Most likely.”
“I have a proposition for you, then. You want to save these innocents, and I will confess I have no true desire for them in my realm. The screams of the damned are always far sweeter than the tears of innocents, for such things burn even I. I propose this: stay here, on Earth. Do as you will, solving mysteries and bringing the evil souls to mortal justice, however, when you catch these people, bring their soul directly to me. It is far too troublesome, getting them myself, and most of those whom I have doing such jobs miss one or two here and there.”
“How do you know I won’t forget one or two?”
“For a time, I shall be with you, to ensure that you keep to our bargain. However, I have your heart. You cannot go too far without it.”
He had no other option, and he knew it, so he accepted.
It did not take me long to realize that I was becoming enthralled in this existence he led. The emotions the humans felt when we were on their trail, the fear, the desperation, was such a heady mix that I knew I couldn’t give this lifestyle up as easily as I had first thought. And that was only those who thought we were simply humans who were tracking them. There had been occasions where we hunted those who knew our true nature, and the heady mix of emotions sent me on the most delicious high for months, Holmes had to tell everyone I’d caught a fever and couldn’t be seen.
Then I discovered how delicious he was, and soon neither of us had the desire to leave.
I did, eventually, give him his heart back, and the fact that he stayed only proved that he was as enthralled as I.
As far in me as it was possible, I coveted, adored and loved him.
From what he learned of emotions, he would never leave my side.
That was enough.
END
Author: dealliasnape (HarmonyMarguerite)
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes
Pairing: Holmes/Watson
Rating: Oh, I'd say this one manages to be NC-17
Summary: Based on a prompt on sherlockkink. The anon asked for Angel!Holmes and Demon!Watson, and this is what I came up with.
Notes: Okay, This is like, the longest thing I have written in awhile, and the longest non-cracky thing I have written in eons. So, I apologize for the awfulness. Also, I don’t even know what this is. I’m soooo sorry OP, if this is not anywhere near what you wanted. I used Movie!verse, hope that’s okay. Because, I kinda liked it like that. Oh, and beware the endless run-on sentences, and my love affair with the comma and semi-colon. Sorry. And I cannot write sex for my LIFE. So… it’s slightly glossed over. Again, sorry.
The title a line from a poem by Kipling, "Hymn Before Action" If anyone cares, it's "For those who kneel beside us/ At alters not Thine own,/ Who lack the lights that guide us,/ Lord, let their faith atone;/ If wrong we did to call them,/ By honor bound they came;/ Let not thy wrath befall them,/ But deal to us the blame."
***
Holmes was slumped in his armchair as I came in; head pillowed on one armrest while his legs dangled off the other side. His arm covered his eyes; the other dangling uselessly to the floor, and he didn’t bother to move as I approached. A bad day then, though no signs of his black mood seemed to be approaching. For the moment, I could ignore him and tend the fire; for, unless it was involved in a current experiment, he rarely marked it, and it had, therefore, gone out. The fire was usually my first priority, for he felt the cold this time of year far more easily than I, and I would not ignore his comfort no matter what he thought of himself.
“Should I be expecting Mrs. Hudson anytime soon?” I asked softly, deftly bringing the warmth of the fire into the room. He would be icy at first, but I could warm him quickly. Mrs. Hudson, while knowledgeable about her borders, for such a thing was unavoidable, had never been comfortable seeing me without a human skin hiding my more outlandish features.
“No. I believe she is done with me for the day. If you want your tea, you’re going to have to call her.” He returned, finally raising his arm enough to look at me and send a slight smile my way. “You are free to be yourself, my dear boy.”
“Always a delight to hear.” I commented, shedding myself of my garments and crawling to him, unfurling large red and black wings as I went. “Headache?”
“A slight one.”
“Can I get you something?” I entwined our fingers from his dangling hand, for it looked so lonely on the floor. It did not please me that I had been right, and his skin was chilled to the touch.
“It will pass.” He blinked blearily at me; his eyes not ready to focus after the weight of his arm, and I could not help but trace the line of his jaw with an elongated nail. He shivered slightly, moving further down the chair to look at me better.
“Did something happen while I was gone?” He rarely got headaches, but when he did, they were almost always caused by something, or someone. When I left to take care of an emergency patient, he was relaxing, for once; able to be himself for the first time in weeks.
“Lestrade came.” That would explain it than. Lestrade, though useful, tended to incur stress in him. Especially with an unannounced visit, where Holmes would have had to donned his human skin far too quickly for comfort.
“Oh? Anything interesting?”
“Only if you care about the failing investigative techniques on behalf of Scotland Yard. He walked away delighted, I can assure you.”
I frowned, but made no verbal reply. He was always at his lowest when he could solve a case without leaving the room. Contrary to what I have written before, when the high of expectations, all of his excitement, when the possibility of a case that would tax his abilities darkens his door falls to disappointment because he barely had to think for a solution, he is far more despondent than when boredom forces his hand to the cocaine bottle. If Lestrade didn’t occasionally prove his use by bringing a truly involved problem once in a while, I should have wiped him from the face of the earth a long time ago for his petty difficulties that so disappointed my friend.
Holmes gently pulled on my hand, a subtle gesture to bring me on the chair with him. However, from past experience, I knew his armchair to be an awkward fit, not at all conducive to what he needed at the moment. I pulled him gently down to me.
Perhaps I was forever pulling him down, but he fell so prettily and easily into my arms, it is an action I cannot bring myself to stop, nor regret. He had never shown any regret either.
A smirk crossed his face as I held him over me, arranging us on the floor. “Did you need something, my dear?”
“Only you.” I replied. “Only ever you.”
His smile was almost blinding, and I wondered again why one such as him deigned to stay here, amongst these pitiful humans, fighting every day for them to have a bit of peace, while his own nature destroyed him for touching their filthy problems. He was not meant to walk this earth as I did.
He easily read the question on my face, he always did, and whispered against my lips, “You know very well why.”
Our kisses always start light, in moments such as these; the feather-light caress of skin, always more of a tickle than a true caress, the slight burning that accompanied such activities only increased the sensation. It was truly a dance, in these moments. Every second choreographed, ever delight and touch though about with only the desire to bring the highest amount of pleasure in the longest amount of time.
“Show me,” I whispered into his mouth, once I had divested him of clothing. “I want to see you.”
His chuckle was low and velvety, but he did as I asked.
There were rules we lived by, we had decided long ago, else we would never settle into the lives we so desired and only ever be at odds with each other, and that was something neither of us wanted. Out there, he was the leader, he was the strong and masterful one, a necessity during his cases, and I was happy to simply follow him. In here though, behind these walls, it was I who led the way. Oh yes we argued. It could not be helped, for our very natures are so opposite that there should be nothing to hold us together. Our anger; however, was never permanent, and we always came back to how we were; how we were meant to be, because even when I followed him, it was always towards one end, one goal above all.
He was mine. Mine to care for, mine to keep alive, mine to use in the pleasures of flesh and bone, mine to coddle, pet, and comfort, and to use however I chose. Forever and always mine, and I would move Heaven and Hell, destroy the earth and those who walked on it, to keep it that way.
As his wings unfurled, I moved behind him, running my mouth down his spine. They were lovely, his wings, now that I had touched them. Before they had been a disappointing pure white that shone in the faintest light, but now the feathers were more a dusty grey, the tips forever turning blood red with black spines. To lie against his back, surrounded by them with my wings covering all was probably as near to perfection as I was allowed.
A shiver caressed his body as my face brushed up against a few feathers. They were inordinately sensitive, which I had used in the past to drive him mad with desire, but not today. Today I wanted to simply drive what remaining pain he had out of his body until he begged me for a moment of rest.
I brought a hand between his legs, it was always so delightfully warm, that small space where his legs met his body, I was always drawn to it, and always enthusiastic that such a space held other delights as well. My hand encountered smooth slickness, and I laughed a little, rising up on my knees and pulling him back to rest on them.
“Your headache can’t be to awful, you seem to have taken some time to prepare yourself.” Three quick fingers ensured my path.
“I had been hoping you wouldn’t be much longer.”
He raised himself, letting me guide his hips to fall back on my cock, his head falling back onto my shoulder, mouth wide and panting. I could not help but groan, encased in his warmth, and thrust up slightly, my tail moving without my permission to wrap around his waist and hold him closer to me.
There was not much leverage for either of us like this, but it was by far our favorite. I shall stay inside him for hours, gently rocking into him, while he shall try to rush, and rise too far, but I won’t let him. I will caress his prick with one hand, a light glide of flesh on flesh that shall drive him to eventually wreathing on me, almost working his way out of my arms. Then, I will capture him with my fangs, sunk deep into his neck. He’ll cry out in pain and still, his blood running freely down his neck and over both of us. I will drink then, and he will still taste like Heaven.
I so dearly love to make him bleed.
Eventually, I shall allow him to come, his seed captured in my hand as much as I can gather it. The only thing that would make me give up his blood is to drink his release. When I turn his head to kiss him, I will still have enough left in my mouth to feed to him. Only then shall I be free to spend myself deep inside him, allow him to feel my warmth coating his insides, and I will stay inside him, keeping my seed locked in him until our legs become stiff and we are forced to move to a bed.
For now, my left hand is free, and so it slides up his chest, covering his heart, and the faint scar that still remains there. He only smiles, and entwines our fingers, for he knows what the gesture means, though no words need pass between us of regrets or bad decisions.
There simply were none.
Once, I had literally held his heart in my hand. I had reached into his chest and pulled it out, beating into my palm. He had simply watched, disinterested, as I inspected the organ. It was beautiful, the type of heart I had longed for throughout eternity. It is well known that to eat the heart of your enemies is your reward in battle, and the act would enhance your strength with theirs. His heart looked to me as a fall apple to a starving man.
“It is yours.” He said, needlessly. “Do what you will with it.”
“Do you not care?” I asked. “It is your life, you should be begging me to spare it, pleading for your existence. Is that not what you are for, the continued existence and harmony of those creatures around us?”
He shrugged. “I never beg, and there is no point, when you will do as you wish no matter what I say. As for these humans, I have tried my best, yet I was not made to be strong enough to defeat you, that was my folly, deciding to be here today against all advisement. Perhaps this was his plan all along for me, or I went astray somewhere along the way. Whichever it is, as I have failed in my intent, you have earned the reward. My heart is yours.”
“Is it?” I moved closer to him.
To his credit, he did not back away, and it was a testimony to his innocence that he only looked confused at my words. “You have it in your hands.”
I’m afraid I laughed at him then, which he did not take kindly to. I didn’t explain to him the human expressions of devotion he had been professing unknowingly to me, for although their job was to save the humans and keep them safe from me, they were always kept far apart and away from emotions. To bring him to the understanding of why I was laughing would most likely take longer than I cared to.
That was the first time I underestimated him.
He intrigued me; however, this broken, bleeding angel standing so straight before and looking into my eyes. Very few had dared to, and those that did were all coveted by Him; therefore, rarely did we meet. He was beautiful, naturally, for they all were. Physically, I wanted him, but I wanted all of his ilk. I have always coveted the beautiful things, and there is nothing in all the realms as beautiful as His Angels.
I stood next to him, noticing his glance straying to a frozen group of humans. They were what we had been fighting over. I had claimed them, and this Angel had come to me, against the wishes of all who commanded him, and demanded I let them all free. It was laughable, this young, untried creature setting himself against me. It was no surprise he had lost.
“What would you do to save them?” I asked, tilting his face up so that I could look into his eyes.
“I have done all I am allowed to do for them.”
“That is not what I asked. What would you like to do, to save them?”
He brightened. “These few are so desperate to make a pact with you because their law has let them down. Do you see that man, over there? His lover was killed and no one can figure out by whom. I can.”
“There are no limits to what you could find out.”
“Using His knowledge would be cheating. It’s far more interesting to use your own brain to solve a mystery. If I could, I would help them. I could give them justice, the justice that they long for. If I could do that, they would have no need for you.”
I thought for a moment, an idea taking place in my mind. “You would need to be human for that.”
“Most likely.”
“I have a proposition for you, then. You want to save these innocents, and I will confess I have no true desire for them in my realm. The screams of the damned are always far sweeter than the tears of innocents, for such things burn even I. I propose this: stay here, on Earth. Do as you will, solving mysteries and bringing the evil souls to mortal justice, however, when you catch these people, bring their soul directly to me. It is far too troublesome, getting them myself, and most of those whom I have doing such jobs miss one or two here and there.”
“How do you know I won’t forget one or two?”
“For a time, I shall be with you, to ensure that you keep to our bargain. However, I have your heart. You cannot go too far without it.”
He had no other option, and he knew it, so he accepted.
It did not take me long to realize that I was becoming enthralled in this existence he led. The emotions the humans felt when we were on their trail, the fear, the desperation, was such a heady mix that I knew I couldn’t give this lifestyle up as easily as I had first thought. And that was only those who thought we were simply humans who were tracking them. There had been occasions where we hunted those who knew our true nature, and the heady mix of emotions sent me on the most delicious high for months, Holmes had to tell everyone I’d caught a fever and couldn’t be seen.
Then I discovered how delicious he was, and soon neither of us had the desire to leave.
I did, eventually, give him his heart back, and the fact that he stayed only proved that he was as enthralled as I.
As far in me as it was possible, I coveted, adored and loved him.
From what he learned of emotions, he would never leave my side.
That was enough.
END