Fic: Sanzaru
Sep. 12th, 2010 06:28 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
viceindustriousTitle: Sanzaru
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes 2009
Pairing: Blackwood/Coward
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing
Summary: People never say it's the ruin of a stone to polish it and Coward is his.
Word count: 420
Notes: From this thread in the Comment!fic War.![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
unsettledink 's exploration of Coward's POV of this is amazing and should definitely be read, here.
Cut a diamond to make it shine. Set it in a clasp of gold, or silver, or iron, to keep it.
Coward is his. Is his. Is his. (Say it three times like a pronouncing angel. Blackwood will stamp this fact into the bones of the universe if he can.) At his core that is what Coward is and Blackwood knows Coward's heart.
Knows what can be sliced away. What is inessential, or worse, what obscures the clarity of his love's light.
People never say it's the ruin of a stone to polish it.
Blackwood takes his voice first. Snips it from his mouth. That slippery little morsel of flesh; a delicacy, tongue so soft, blood rich. Blackwood understands him well enough at a glance, by his eyes, by the trembling set of his body and Coward need never speak to anyone else.
Coward can only hurt himself with words.
But then, there are other flaws that need correction too.
Blackwood has Reordan work his solutions. They test everything first, of course, for Coward is far too precious to be any sort of guinea pig and Blackwood is only satisfied with the best. It takes three months before they have a chemical that will blind without dulling the colour of the eye.
There is no finer shade of blue, Blackwood is sure, to be found anywhere in the world and it's kept now, untainted. Pure. There is no one, nothing for Coward to spill his gaze upon accidentally. All it takes is a word, a touch of his hand, to tip Coward's head up and illuminate those eyes once more for his pleasure.
It isn't quite enough.
Coward is his.
Is his. Is his. Coward does not belong to the world. Blackwood can only rest when he knows that Coward is cloistered safe in the palm of his hand, tied to him in every way that matters, bound unassailable.
Once Coward has been deafened he no longer likes to leave his bed, the safety of the treasure box that Blackwood has placed him in. Beautifully complacent, so tender and desperate for the reassurance of Blackwood's hands, his scent.
Sometimes Blackwood will have the servants rearrange the furniture just to make sure. Sometimes he will leave Coward alone in the dark and the silence for days, so when he returns Coward clings to him, touch starved and half out of his mind. Weeping, shivering, grateful for whatever Blackwood wishes to give him.
Coward is not broken. He is perfected.
Fandom: Sherlock Holmes 2009
Pairing: Blackwood/Coward
Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: Not mine, just playing
Summary: People never say it's the ruin of a stone to polish it and Coward is his.
Word count: 420
Notes: From this thread in the Comment!fic War.
unsettledink 's exploration of Coward's POV of this is amazing and should definitely be read, here. Cut a diamond to make it shine. Set it in a clasp of gold, or silver, or iron, to keep it.
Coward is his. Is his. Is his. (Say it three times like a pronouncing angel. Blackwood will stamp this fact into the bones of the universe if he can.) At his core that is what Coward is and Blackwood knows Coward's heart.
Knows what can be sliced away. What is inessential, or worse, what obscures the clarity of his love's light.
People never say it's the ruin of a stone to polish it.
Blackwood takes his voice first. Snips it from his mouth. That slippery little morsel of flesh; a delicacy, tongue so soft, blood rich. Blackwood understands him well enough at a glance, by his eyes, by the trembling set of his body and Coward need never speak to anyone else.
Coward can only hurt himself with words.
But then, there are other flaws that need correction too.
Blackwood has Reordan work his solutions. They test everything first, of course, for Coward is far too precious to be any sort of guinea pig and Blackwood is only satisfied with the best. It takes three months before they have a chemical that will blind without dulling the colour of the eye.
There is no finer shade of blue, Blackwood is sure, to be found anywhere in the world and it's kept now, untainted. Pure. There is no one, nothing for Coward to spill his gaze upon accidentally. All it takes is a word, a touch of his hand, to tip Coward's head up and illuminate those eyes once more for his pleasure.
It isn't quite enough.
Coward is his.
Is his. Is his. Coward does not belong to the world. Blackwood can only rest when he knows that Coward is cloistered safe in the palm of his hand, tied to him in every way that matters, bound unassailable.
Once Coward has been deafened he no longer likes to leave his bed, the safety of the treasure box that Blackwood has placed him in. Beautifully complacent, so tender and desperate for the reassurance of Blackwood's hands, his scent.
Sometimes Blackwood will have the servants rearrange the furniture just to make sure. Sometimes he will leave Coward alone in the dark and the silence for days, so when he returns Coward clings to him, touch starved and half out of his mind. Weeping, shivering, grateful for whatever Blackwood wishes to give him.
Coward is not broken. He is perfected.
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2010-10-21 12:53 am (UTC)And yet it's still lovely, somehow, and still romantic (in a very frightening way, body parts DO NOT = LOVE).
Beautifully complacent, so tender and desperate for the reassurance of Blackwood's hands, his scent.
I'm not sure why, but that line, just sticks in my mind. It's... beautiful in some twisted way.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-25 09:09 am (UTC)just you wait for the incredibly disturbing wedding fic! >:D
(beautiful is some twisted way is just how I think of the boys)
no subject
Date: 2010-10-22 04:53 am (UTC)Coward is his. Is his. Is his. That. That's gorgeous. That's painful. Because the repetition, and later, the emphasis – that's Blackwood, unable to stop himself from saying it, gripping too tight.
Coward can only hurt himself with words. And again. I see something wonderfully protective about Blackwood here. The idea of, yeah, don't have to share his voice with anyone else, but also that if Coward can't speak, he can never say the wrong thing and thus Blackwood won't have to punish him. And that's – dawwww, Blackwood
Blackwood can only rest That's tragic. Because you know he won't be able to rest, even then. I mean. Look at him. Having the furniture rearranged. So desperate that Coward won't leave him, so afraid to show it. Oh, Blackwood.
…yes. I know I'm feeling sorry for the wrong person here. Hush.
no subject
Date: 2010-10-25 09:12 am (UTC)Because we both know it's Blackwood's love. Protective and jealous and too large.
if Coward can't speak, he can never say the wrong thing and thus Blackwood won't have to punish him. I was going to actually type out something along these words but then I thought, it'll probably come across in just that line and <3