Fic: suddenly your heart showed me my way (1/1)

[hitlikehammers]

Title: suddenly your heart showed me my way
Rating: R
Pairing: Sherlock/John
Word Count: 7,003
Summary: In which Sherlock develops a fixation with John’s pulse, and discovers his own esoteric heart in the process. (Part I of the Cardiophilia Sequence)
Disclaimer: I own nothing but the plot. Title credit to Pablo Neruda.
Author's Notes: My

Comments

[stardust_made]

I hardly ever read Sherlock fanfic these days, but I recognized your name from the Doctor/Donna fandom (back in the days when I didn't dare to come out of lurkdom and I didn't even have a LJ) so I was very excited to see what you've written. And wow, I mean, WOW! The language of this is astonishing; at times it's so complex and layered that it becomes a stunning, terribly accurate reflection of Sherlock's infernal thought proccesses, nevermind that this isn't written in the first person. Amazing, just brilliant.

As for the sentiment here...oh, be still my heart, pun fully intended.

I'm thrilled to see this is part of a series.

♥

[hitlikehammers]

Oh dear, the Doctor/Donna days! (You make me want to break out my dreadful, unfinished WIP from back then!)

But seriously, thank you ever so much for your kind words; I'm utterly thrilled that you thought the layering and the language and the characterization of Sherlock and his thoughts in particular actually worked, here.

[poetic_dreamer]

Beautifully written. You've really raised the bar for me in terms of Sherlock fiction. This is by far one of the best pieces I've read for this fandom. Keen to read more.

[hitlikehammers]

Goodness -- thank you ever so much, truly. I'm absolutely flattered by such feedback.

[keerawa]

This is a marvelous piece of writing. Sherlock's so-complex and detailed observations and his utter lack of ability to come to reliable conclusions based upon them.

Because John is whispering, murmuring nonsense: mindless, thoughtless nonsense that comes from another place entirely, somewhere that resonates, that touches the same octave and hits the same notes as the heart Sherlock’s tucked into, and Sherlock’s own pulse ebbs, recedes to align with John’s, to intertwine and craft a frantic, impromptu cacophony that maybe, maybe could grow into a symphony someday, this day-one day, maybe.
Utterly gorgeous.

[hitlikehammers]

Thank you so much, really and truly-I'm thrilled you enjoyed this.

[hitlikehammers]

Goodness, thank you! I'm so pleased you enjoyed this.