41 - 60 of 145 Works by Zaganthi (Caffiends)
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He nipped gently at the man's neck, and heard the answering sigh. "You realise I was number two with SPECTRE."
"Yeah, I know," John said seriously. "But you could have pushed the button and damned the world. There's not an Agent out there pure as snow, it's useless to pretend that. This is a bloody business and both sides get covered in arterial spray one way or another. But you chose at the right point."
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The Great and Good by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends) for liesmyth
Fandoms: Discworld - Terry Pratchett
25 Oct 2019
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It was a little jarring to see the great and the good of Ankh Morpork trying to be frivolous when that actually suited very few of them. He was pretty sure the Disc itself trembled when he say that even Vetinari was dressed up. It wasn't a real stretch as he had dressed as an Assassin which it could be argued was very close to what he wore anyway, but even so everyone had apparently made an effort for Moist Von Lipwig opening of the new central station of Ankh Morpork and the inaugural run of the first luxury locomotive. He’d tried to get out of it, but Vetinari had sent him some very pointed memos about the Law being present as such an event.
Moist would have been harder to recognise if it hadn't been for Mrs Dearheart standing beside him looking like more of a vampire than Lady Margolotta. (Adora Belle Dearheart, in marriage, was certainly not Mrs von Lipwig, and occasionally Vimes wondered if Moist should have given in and changed his name to Mr. Dearheart.)
He was dressed like a highwayman, complete with leather hobby horse on a stick.
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The key card swiped him in, and he closed the door behind him and took a deep unsteady breath before throwing the key card on the expensive table on the way in. He stopped there, in the 'living room space', and shrugged out of his jacket, before starting in on the tiny fucking buttons of the waistcoat, while trying to simultaneously toe off his shoes.
He couldn't believe this was happening. It was true what they said, the brain was sexy and Mycroft’s brain was un-fucking-believable. He plugged into fantasies Sebastian wasn't even sure he acknowledged, and drew them out and then offered them to him on a plate in that upper-class Oxford accent as if they were discussing afternoon tea.
Cucumber sandwich and pre-consented non-consensual sex? Oh yes please...
Series
- Part 1 of Attraction Distraction
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Nemesis by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Fandoms: Sherlock (TV), A Study in Emerald - Neil Gaiman
25 Aug 2019
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"Are you...real?" The voice was hoarse as he spoke. "Where am I?"
"The pits." I put a knee on the rough stone to steady myself, reaching a hand out to touch at his shoulder and oh. Warm skin. I hadn't felt human heat in weeks, and it was bloody amazing. I was perhaps imagining that my fingers on his wrist brought him back to himself as much as it did me.
He clutched back at my hand with a surprising strength and stared at me intently.
"Who are you?""Colonel Sebastian Moran." It was good, too, to hear a calm voice, I wasn't inclined to deal with a gibbering madman, or some of the ones who fell into an ecstasy as their death neared and the glamours broke through whatever mental defenses they had managed to erect. I’d had an old Sergeant tell me I was going to go far because no glamour had ever broken through and convinced me the feeding of an Old One meant anything more than death. "What's your unit, soldier? Where did they get you?"
"Captain John Watson, Doctor, Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers," the man replied. A doctor no less, that was interesting and surprising he had survived. "You are _the_ Colonel Moran?"
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Twilight Barking by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Fandoms: Hannibal (TV), Hannibal Lecter Series - All Media Types
10 Aug 2019
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He could at least go through the motions, because that was what his life was at the moment. Going through the motions of normality while screaming inside. Or was that hopelessly melodramatic and self-pitying?
Will wasn't sure, but the fact that he could at least consider the second one with an edge of snark to it was somewhat heartening.
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Seb closed his eyes for a moment, and tried to focus, and tried to not think about Jim. "As long as he's out there, I'm a target. I'm a toy that dared to get away. I'm pretty sure that's a slow death, not a quick death."
Series
- Part 3 of Broken Crown
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Metal and Mind by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Fandoms: X-Men - All Media Types, X-Men (Comicverse), DCU (Comics)
22 Jul 2019
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Charles considered his next move. His 'gift', even a couple of weeks on, was still perplexing him because he wasn't sure of the best way to handle him. Erik was... unstable. He was a classic example of being riddled with post traumatic stress, trauma induced mental breakdowns, with defenses and walls everywhere. Kal-El had been right, strangely enough. Erik might not intend to harm them, but he was effectively a highly powered equivalent of a grenade with its pin out that you've just noticed in the corner of the room.
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- Part 5 of Glitter and Glass Universe
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The 'whipping boys' -- smart, every bloody last one of them, to be there at NIT -- with their caning marks laid hard across their shoulders and upper backs, fresh and scarred alike. He had a good supply of self dissolving sutures laid in for them, and a series of well worn advice on how to deal with Patrons who weren't getting the point of the arrangement.
He remembered what that was like himself from his own experiences, but truth was Evan hadn't been perennially lazy with his assignments. After the time he had let himself be persuaded to be involved in a stunt that ended up with a full dozen of them in front of the Dean and a rather severe punishment for those involved or their whipping boys, Evan had tried really hard not to get into trouble.
Series
- Part 1 of Whipping Boys
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One to Sacrifice by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Fandoms: A Study in Emerald - Neil Gaiman, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms, Sherlock (TV)
29 Dec 2018
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Enclaves of ancient protections were activated and it was to one of these that John and myself were taken barely sensible of our surroundings. For it seemed that our immersion in the unnatural energies had a debilitating effect, let alone the burns and injuries. I had fortunately been conscious enough to vouch for him, at least to begin with but I feared what happens next. For the silver Hand is inert upon my wrist, its intoxicating power a memory, reduced to a symbol rather than a weapon.
Series
- Part 4 of Pray Your Gods
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The Isle of Dogs by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends) for shadowkeeper
Fandoms: Professor Moriarty: The Hound of the D'Urbervilles - Kim Newman, Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
25 Dec 2017
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“You thought I did not value anything save your services.” James nodded. ”I see.” He paced for a moment, thoughtful in his movement. ”I assumed that my regard was implicit in the fact that day after day, even year on year you were still alive. I do not regard emotion as worthy of thought so I do not speak of it. Did you never inquire as to your predecessors?”
I’d honestly assumed my predecessors were in a burlap bag at the bottom of the Thames, weighted down with things that amused Moriarty. A bicycle wheel; part of a hearse; a pile of guns. “Were there any?”
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Gods of Cruel Design by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends) for shadowkeeper
Fandoms: A Study in Emerald - Neil Gaiman
24 Dec 2016
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On this day, the snow lay thick in the streets London still and as I climbed the stairs, I registered the smell of smoke and blessed Mrs. Hudson for setting the fire in advance for I could see the lamplight already, welcoming me home with its buttery light. It was only as I opened the door that I realized the smoke was pipe tobacco, and the familiarity of its presence impacted my mind like a blow even as I saw a familiar shadow and shape sitting in a chair I had studiously avoided using in my occupation of the rooms.
His chair. His impossible shadow.Series
- Part 3 of Pray Your Gods
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When they were apart, she chewed over it more, love as a concept. She had her romance novels and she wrote out solutions and conversations in her head, matrixed and played through events that had happened and hadn't happened to see if there was a way to slide her claws under his shell and peel it back. She wondered, too, if he'd survive without the shell, protective and keeping her away, if his exoskeleton of rage and cunning would make his insides spill out if she broke through it.
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Watson was calmly having a cup of tea when Sherlock burst in. It was funny, having conversations, the pauses and the expressions people made to intone things that he didn't hear. That he had to imagine what it would sound like. Sherlock had a lulling voice sometimes, quick and clipped other things, and he imagined from books that it must be to have the compelling undertones that he supposed would make the unmistakeable peaks and troughs of the sub-harmonics that indicated a strong set of talents. Moriarty had cooed over Sherlock's voice, multi-talented and intense, and John couldn't bring himself to care because it didn't matter any more than Mrs Hudson speaking to him.
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Shortest Day, Longest Night by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends) for Galadriel
Fandoms: Constantine (2005)
25 Dec 2015
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The longest night was a night when the veil between world wore thin like a worried blanket, rubbed with the friction of holiday celebrations and boozey ruminations on what might have been and what never ever fucking was going to be. It was a time to put things to rest, to close doors and bask in that, though humanity squandered that by prying at the edges of doors instead with greedy fingers.
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Her eyes had met his eyes over, over and over, and love mates had grown deeper almost from the start, childish games and dalliances with others quickly falling off for a deeper relationship, but recognition didn't come.
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We were soldiers by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends)
Fandoms: Sherlock (TV), Sherlock Holmes & Related Fandoms
08 Aug 2015
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He slept, and dozed, and drifted between consciousness and unconsciousness for a while. Every once in a while, someone gave him directions and he followed them. Every time he opened his eyes, the room seemed to be different, the bandages on his body different. He took to doing a quick inventory every time the fog cleared a little. He was mostly sure he wasn't in Germany -- he'd done that trip once, and it didn't feel like that, which was strange.
Things had calmed down some, and he was a bit floaty from what he assumed was drugs. He knew the names of some of the medical staff but struggled to recall them. Then he did recognised someone. John. John Watson, heading over towards him."Evening Colonel," John said pleasantly. "How are you feeling?" He picked up the chart.
John was a sight for sore eyes -- and Seb was at least experienced enough to not let it go awkward. He had a whole fucking battalion to run, and no much time for a personal life. "Wasted." He blinked, hard, pushed through it. "I need to speak to Lt Col. Hall, and I need the S2. There's been a security breach..."
Series
- Part 2 of Brothers in Arms
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Her fingers closed over the cuffs. "A year of Personal Service to Master Wayne. You will be of his Household, his inner circle. It is my task to prepare you for that role as the Emperor himself has taken an interest in your capabilities. You will become a Personal, Alexander. One to be proud of."
Series
- Part 4 of Glitter and Glass Universe
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Night of the Pernicious Poisoner by perryvic, Zaganthi (Caffiends) for stuffwelike
Fandoms: Wild Wild West (TV)
14 Dec 2014
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Formal dress parties were, and still are, a little slice of heaven with a dash of hell on top. I couldn't remember the last time I went to one while not on duty, and I'm just as hard pressed to remember the last one that went off without some trouble occurring. It takes a particular level of skill to smile, and seem relaxed while neatly cataloguing every face in the room, looking for stray gestures, people who seem inordinately nervous. A glass of wine in one hand, a pistol in the other -- I couldn't imagine living any other way.
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There was a flicker of something in his expression that seemed a little out of place with the genial expression he was promoting. Something dark and wet in Moriarty's eyes that struck Seb as wrong. Micro expressions were important, hugely so, and that flicker had been something he hadn't expected, hadn't had time to process. Instead, Seb nudged the man's leg lightly with his knee, looking at the material of his suit. "Mind. Gaultier is a bit high label for a man who's at the tracks betting."
Series
- Part 2 of Broken Crown