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Sieg Heil [Charles Xavier/Erik Lehnsherr AU] :iconnikaanuk:nikaanuk 2 0
Literature
The boy I used to be
„Nieposłuszne dzieci nie przeżywają na ulicy”. Tak powiedział pierwszego dnia Toshimoto-san, kiedy Takeshi stał w jego pokoju po raz pierwszy i Toshimoto-san miał zdecydować, czy Takeshi się nadaje. Oko go jeszcze wtedy trochę bolało, a do tego był głodny, ale stał wyprostowany, żeby wydawać się wyższy niż był naprawdę. Kojima-san powiedział, że jeśli Takeshi ma cokolwiek w głowie, to będzie chciał żeby Toshimoto-san go przyjął. „To ciężka robota, ale przynajmniej nie jesteś sam. Jak będziesz sam, to zginiesz” powiedział Kojima-san i Takeshi stał przed Szefem – tak wszyscy nazywali Toshimoto-san – i starał się wyglądać na wyższego, bo za wszelką cenę nie chciał umrzeć.
Tego pierwszego dnia Toshimoto-san powiedział wiele rzeczy, k
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Literature
Out of the closet
Wszystkie najgorsze rzeczy w moim życiu zaczynały się tak samo, ktoś szedł do pokoju na drugim piętrze domu, który to pokój w ciągu wielu lat przekształcony został w składzik na rzeczy aktualnie nieużywane. Kiedy widziałem kogoś idącego znanym mi już krokiem - zawsze szli tak samo, powoli, z trudem wspinając się po dwóch kondygnacjach drewnianych schodów, opierając się ciężko na wyślizganej poręczy - skradałem się za nim; i babcia i dziadek niedosłyszeli, więc zazwyczaj mnie nie zauważali, bądź też byli zajęcy ważniejszymi rzeczami niż podążającymi za nimi wnuczek. Wchodzili do pokoju-składziku, odwiedzanego przeze mnie w prawie każdy nudny deszczowy dzień, kiedy babcia oglądała jeden ze swoich seriali i tym samym nie pozwalała mi oglądać bajek. Znałem ten pok
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:iconnikaanuk:nikaanuk 5 12
Literature
A glimpse of nothing.
„Have you seen him?” Donovan leaned to her colleague. „Who is this man?”
„Some junky.” Anderson shrugged taking a sip of his coffee and peeping into Sally's cleavage.
She observed the man for a moment and slowly shook her head.
„No... He's been standing there for almost an hour. I'm telling you, it's something.”
They were observing a tall young man, a student probably, standing outside the Yard and waiting in an old jacket; he was pale and very skinny, his face looked almost demonic with the high, sharp cheekbones. He was waiting there, watching the main entrance.
“Oh come on, Donovan, the break is almost over and I wanted to buy one more coffee.”
“Wait. Look.” She nodded towards the window. He came closer to her and looked outside.
Lestrade came out and walked to the man. They were talking for a moment.
“Does Lestrade know him?” Anderson wondered.
“Yes...” Sally smiled a little. “They
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Literature
Dark Greg's Days
Sherlock stopped with the phone in his hand, looking at Lestrade. The Inspector was sitting in the armchair with a glass of whisky in his hand.
“Lestrade,” The man raised his head, “Leave it, I need your help.”
“What do you want? Couldn't it wait until tomorrow?”
“You are drunk? Again? This has to stop.”
”Don't concern yourself with things you don't understand, pretty boy. Why do you even care?”
”Because I love you, you stupid bastard.”
Lestrade scoffed but drowned his next comment in the glass. He was pissed off, yes, and he had a really bad day, his boss was a bloody prick and he could not solve the bloody case, but none of those were a reason for him to say mean things to Sherlock. Especially when he only wanted to help. Greg owed him at least this - decency and patience. He sighed. That was his bloody problem too - he bloody cared for people.
“Lestrade,” Holmes walked near to him and took the glass
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Winter Kotik by MadBlackie by nikaanuk Winter Kotik by MadBlackie :iconnikaanuk:nikaanuk 2 2
Literature
In the morning
John used to wake up as he was taught in the army.
Back then, when he lived alone, he heard the alarm; he opened his eyes and stared at the ceiling for some time, immersed in silence. He would toy with the thought of staying in bed a bit longer, fooling himself that he had plans for the day that he could put aside.
Back then he always woke up to an empty room and spent his day wondering why he did get up from the bed when there was nothing waiting for him outside. And his life was miserable.
Now when he was waking up he could occasionally lie down, wondering why the flat was so silent. Did Sherlock go out? Or was occupied with some experiment? Was he lying dead? Or maybe was it one of the few days when Sherlock's body decided that this is the best moment to sleep? Whatever the reason, he would get up and walk downstairs - fully dressed, because one could never know who would be sitting in the living room - finding the flat empty or Sherlock lying on the couch: sleeping or just busy wit
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Literature
The blush
Sherlock was standing in front of Lestrade, blushing. Lestrade blinked in surprise, Sherlock was actually blushing! They stood motionless – Sherlock in the bedroom, Gregory in livingroom – and stared at each other; Holmes was frozen to the spot with his shirt undone. His skin was pale with blue veins visible underneath, his cheeks pink under Greg's gaze. The DI stood with his hand still on the handle and finally dropped his head.
“Sorry,” he murmured, scratching the back of his neck. “I didn't mean to.”
Sherlock blinked but started to button the shirt up. “I thought you were out at work already,” Holmes said, trying to sound normal.
“Well, yeah, but I tried to call you about the case and you didn't answer the phone so I thought-” He paused than, after a few moments, he shrugged. “That something happened. I'm glad you were only in the bath.”
He was always wondering when Sherlock did things like taking showers or eat
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Literature
Conflict
Sherlock was playing with a piece of a cake on his plate with an annoyed frown. He was not hungry, he was not enjoying Lestrade's presence, he only wanted to be alone. And the worst part was that Lestrade was sitting next to him and was just watching him most of the time .
“Stop looking at me, it's annoying.” He complained childishly. “I'm eating, what else do you want?”
“Sherlock, I don't want to hurt you. It's for your best.” Inspector was honestly sad but Sherlock did not care.
Mycroft dropped him at Lestrade's place earlier that morning, leaving him with one suitcase and a promise that if Sherlock tried to do anything 'improper' he would end up in a mental hospital. And if there was something Sherlock hated more then boredom these were hospitals. The house of all boredom.
So he was here, sulking and eating dinner with Lestrade. Mycroft secured a replacement for Lestrade in case he needed to stay with Sherlock. After the last time the Inspe
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Literature
Holmes - Happiness
The flat was oddly quiet. The door opened when Greg pushed them lightly. He walked into the room and looked around. Nothing. The messy living room was empty so he entered Sherlock's bedroom – only to find him sitting on the mattress with his hands raised to his mouth. Finger tips caressed his lips lightly when he was looking at the ceiling with a quiet interest.
Gregory came closer to him not even getting a look from the younger man. He knelt beside him finally catching his attention.
“I was bored” Sherlock said, his voice lazy, higher than normal. “And now I'm not. I've done something nice for myself. You always said I should do so.”
“Not in this way.” Greg gritted his teeth. “And you bloody well know it.”
A short laugh escaped Sherlock's mouth. He looked at the man closely and smiled even wider - that was a sick, unnatural smile.
“Why everybody is against me when I just want to be happy?” He asked reaching to Greg's ch
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Literature
Holmes - Date
I'm so sorry, Sherlock but I have to stay longer at work. Paperwork. We need to cancel our date.- GL
 
Well, don't be. It's only a meeting. –SH
 
No, it wasn't. It was a date, Sherlock. And I was really looking forward to it. –GL
 
Finish your work, will you? And just come home. I don't see any reason to act like something happened. – SH
 
 
Greg came late that day. He stayed longer to finish paperwork because the month was ending and his boss wanted all reports, and Greg promised himself he really would start to write those reports on time.
 
He felt especially bad because this was the day they were supposed to go out – Sherlock rarely agreed for such a thing, mostly because Mycroft could watch them, but this day the elder Holmes was out of London and they had a chance to celebrate – but it ended up like this; a silent flat, single li
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Literature
The Mirror
Mycroft was calm as always. He stood in front of Lestrade, watching him carefully - he knew everything about the Inspector, and now he was adjusting the files to the living person. Sherlock felt almost jealous.
“You will never do this again, sir.” his voice echoed in the empty storehouse. “I have to protect Sherlock. You can't just kidnap me when you think this is required! I would be all right, we would solve it without this whole situation.”
While Lestrade was speaking, Sherlock watched his brother,noticing something odd in his brother’s behaviours. But he could recognise it; he knew very well what it was, because he saw the same face in the mirror sometimes.
“Lestrade, enough,” he cut off Greg's tirade, not taking his gaze away from his brother. “Leave.” He addedwhen Lestrade shot Sherlock a confused glance.
Greg blinked with a surprise while Mycroft looked at Sherlock calmly. The brothers stayed silent and I
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Literature
The Holmes Brothers
The room was oddly quiet. Mycroft stood in the doorway awkwardly with the coat hanging on his forearm. Lestrade turned his head and stood up.
"I'm glad you came" he said and bit his lower lip. "Or I shouldn't have said that, sorry."
"No, no, it's fine" Mycroft came closer, watching his brother lying unconsciously in bed. The medical equipment worked quietly and Mycroft was sure he should not feel that uncomfortably around his sick brother. It was not like the whole situation was unfamiliar – Sherlock was in the hospitals before, just... Lestrade's presence was something new.
The inspector called Mycroft's secretary today and told her that Sherlock was in hospital. Mycroft got this information after the meeting with the Russians and he cancelled the rest of his appointments and went to the hospital.
"How is he?" he asked standing on the other side of the bed.
Lestrade wiped his hands on his trousers. He looked pale, the worry gave him at least five years more. Mycroft examined him and t
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Literature
Desperate Times
***
He can hear steps in the corridor. They are louder than the whisper full of worry: 'Sherlock?'.  Lestrade's voice is something Sherlock almost cannot hear – the drugs are doing weird things to his hearing.
The steps are closer now and Sherlock knows it is the end. The moment Lestrade sees him like this - on his bathroom floor -  the sweet care will end. Sherlock feels rather miserable, he knows he is pathetic but watching his pale arm and the syringe between his legs is making him unable to move.
The door opens and Sherlock – sitting loosely like a broken toy – does not raise his head. He cannot look Lestrade in the eye. But he hears a sigh and Lestrade throws his things on the washing machine. He comes closer to Holmes and touches his neck checking the pulse.
He sighs again and gently unknots the string tied on Sherlock's arm. He then slips his arms under Sherlock's knees and behind his back and carries him out of the bathroom. „What were you thinking, Lock?" he asks against the b
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Literature
Sherlock Challenge - Day 13
13. Eating ice-cream
For some reasons Sherlock decided acting like a couple is a way to catch Moran. On Monday they were at the Museum, on Wensday they went to the theatre and on Friday John found himself sitting with Sherlock in a small cafe with ice-cream. The detective was finally still, John observed him with some sort of pleasure – he had him back, calm and close and even if Sherlock had strange ideas, it was still him. Sherlock raised his gaze and John smiled at him tenderly. He was happy, that kind of simple happiness when you have everything you need.
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:iconnikaanuk:nikaanuk 3 0
Literature
Sherlock Challenge - Day 12
12. Making Out
„Here" Sherlock whispered when the tall man showed up again and John nodded.
He looked around but before he could see them Sherlock pressed John against the wall and kissed him. John lost his breath and to stay on his feet he wrapped his arms around Sherlock's neck and he kissed him back. The man got into the car and drove away but they were still kissing. When Sherlock nipped John's lip the doctor broke the kiss. Just then Sherlock realised the man was not there. He winced and took John's hand to take him to the waiting cab.
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Activity


Wow! I took part in Klub Zboków contest for 'Coming out' work ( here is a gallery). I wrote a story (Polish only, sorry) and I didn't win (but I think being 9 for 25 is very good result!) but got prizes from AmericanNoise and Limboplus anyway! I'm so happy ^^ It's a good way to start November!
Now I can go to write my Charik fanfiction since I watched trailer to DOTFP!
  • Listening to: some soundtrack stuff
  • Reading: Charik fanfictions
  • Watching: Bedlam series 2
  • Playing: Pokemon!
  • Eating: sweets
  • Drinking: cold tea

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:iconniebieskikot:
NiebieskiKot Featured By Owner Mar 25, 2015
Nie no, po prostu jaki spam Kotikiem :D
Dzięki za favy :D
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:iconcorentinchiron:
CorentinChiron Featured By Owner May 14, 2014  Professional Digital Artist
Thanks for the fav :)
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GildortheGreat Featured By Owner May 14, 2014  Hobbyist Traditional Artist
Thanks for the fav!!
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:iconniebieskikot:
NiebieskiKot Featured By Owner Apr 15, 2014
Kotikowo dziękuję za fava ;)
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