i dont really have a “rules” section for my asks so this is my general policy!
general rule for asks is that if im a) not comfortable writing it or b) dont think i know enough about the topic/req TO write about it, it will usually go unanswered. other than that, feel free to send in your thoughts as long as they arent blatantly creepy (ie: incest, large/illegal age gap, etc). this page will never be a safe space for predatory behavior, even in writing. my blog does contain smut so it is very much mdni. be mindful about the media you consume!
...It is strange that all three Holmes siblings ended up working under the same man at the same college.
Mycroft working with Hodge is an interesting predicament, but I suppose it makes sense; it's lighter government work with the pathway for greatness, perfect for someone currently relatively low in the ranks. Beatrice as Edie working for Hodge seems to know her way round and already have a somewhat established presence, at least in my eyes.
So what came first, the chicken or the egg? Mycroft working for Hodge, or Beatrice?
(Did Silas send Beatrice knowing that Mycroft was there, or did he align the stars for Mycroft to be there, knowing that Beatrice was? Or both? How much did Beatrice know?)
Obviously Mycroft pulled some strings to get Sherlock working at Candlin too, so that can be excused as a happy coincidence...
...Or can it?
Did Silas know that Sherlock was in prison, and that Mycroft would get him a job at Candlin? Surely that's a very very very slim chance that the job would offered to Sherlock, unless Silas told Mycroft to get Sherlock the job...
So, either Mycroft knows more than he is letting on in S1, or Silas was using him far more than he let on. I am more inclined to believe the latter, but the question with that is whether or not Mycroft knew it was Silas who got him working with Hodge (and therefore had his suspicions?), or if he was completely unaware.
...His absence from Appleton Manor at the Reunion indicates that Silas sees him as a threat, and his anxious reactions to Silas' words and actions at dinner in Constantinople both speak volumes; is Mycroft a threat because he knows Silas' evil side prior to S1?
"You can ask me, you know--what you’ve been wanting to ask since you shot that soldier. You’re not nearly as mysterious as you assume."
"When you killed for the first time…how did you feel?"
"A great weight on my chest, pressing harder every day so I can hardly breathe. And now, I live with it."
Xiao Wei in the style of Alphonse Mucha because I support women's rights and wrongs in equal measure.
So this is my terrible Young Sherlock thought of the day.
We all know that Silas Holmes married Cordelia for her fortune right? Or at least it was a huge incentive. She had the money, she had Appleton Manor which would have come under his control once they were married (hence the importance of the Married Women's Property Act in the show). She had all these advantages ready for Silas to take.
So imagine it. Cordelia meets Silas Holmes in her early 20s (Mycroft is 26 in the show, and I would put Cordelia in her early 50s). Silas isn't rich, or at least isn't anywhere near as rich as her. But he meets this person who is clever, imaginative, witty, loving and adventurous (this person who is probably one of the only people who can keep up with Silas's genius), but also a person who is eccentric, perhaps a little mad, and so is likely misunderstood by those around her, which makes her lonely.
So Silas charms her. It's not difficult, because he likes her, but also he sees an opportunity here. This is someone he can manipulate, someone who is so open with her heart and so lonely that she will blind herself to Silas's flaws and to any nagging doubts she might have, someone whose talents and advantages he can use, and if she ever does try to cause trouble - well, he can just say she's crazy and dismiss her suspicions.
So he marries her, and they spend almost a whole life together before it all goes awry.
So how many years do you think it will take before Cordelia looks up one day and focuses her gaze on Sherlock and James -
Sherlock, who may have the intellect and the scientific curiosity of his father but has the open heart, artistic flair, adventurous spirit and madness of his mother (Sherlock, who at least in this stage of his life is "his mother's son"), and James, who is charming, ambitious, a genius, a man who is always on the look out for an opportunity, who has latched onto Sherlock like he will never let go -
- And Cordelia thinks: Oh no. It's happening again.
i have a confession and its that i havent forgotten ab you guys its just that the next chapter of my fanfic is going to have to be the reichenbach fall and im really procrastinating writing it
I haven't written fanfic in two years, but lately life is less stressful, and @sboochi's Young Sherlock Vampire AU has latched onto my brain, so now I have about 8k words sitting in my folder and more notes besides. I am releasing a snippet in the wild while I decide what to do about this:
He’s standing in front of the whiteboard, muttering to himself as he solves the equation, when suddenly he freezes, his animal brain sensing the danger of a predator standing right behind him. His skin pebbles in goosebumps, the hand holding the chalk frozen in mid-air. His heart rate spikes in pure fear and certitude that there is something keeping him in his sight that wants to eat him alive. A moment later, there’s a voice in his ear.
“You’re having trouble finding the solutions?”
Sherlock forces himself to gulp, and he turns.
He takes stock of him at a glance, his brain flitting fast on adrenaline. Student, Irish from the lilt of his voice, well-dressed under his robes, his three-piece well-kept if a bit flamboyant. Curly hair, thin mouth, eyes dark brown and intense under a strong set of eyebrows, he is coming close with a slow and assured pace that speaks of a man who feels comfortable in his own skin.
Sherlock offers him the chalk without saying a word — can’t bring himself, the feeling of being prey still coiling at his nape. His brain demands that he not let this man out of his sight, and doesn’t understand why — Sherlock observes him as he solves the quintic, and there is nothing off about him that Sherlock can see, nothing that would explain this feeling. It’s not until he turns to look Sherlock in the eye — dark and deep and unfathomable and Sherlock can’t help the frisson-feeling of danger that runs down his spine — and says the word ‘kleptomaniac’ that Sherlock starts to understand: this man has been watching, and he has noticed.
He has noticed the pick-pocketing, and he notices when Sherlock quotes the Art of War, the white-flash of his sharp teeth as he laughs sending another thrill down Sherlock’s spine. And so James Moriarty — strong hands, solid grip, if a bit cold — drags Sherlock into his orbit, and Sherlock is powerless to stop him, the feeling of danger pooling behind his teeth too addictive to refuse. James clasps his arm and pulls him along, drags Sherlock to his room so he can get out of his school robes, murmurs “follow my lead” in front of a student club and Sherlock can’t help himself — follow he does, and with a smile, because it would be unfathomable doing anything else, the danger turning to excitement and then to exhilaration when James keeps noticing. James keeps looking at him with those dark eyes of his even in a room full of other people, sees through Sherlock until it feels like he could see down to his very soul if he looked at him for too long. It’s more than exhilarating — it’s electrifying.
Any more details on Jane and Mycroft's wedding/honeymoon/married life? What does a normal, romantic day look like for them now? X
pausing writing my gutwrenching sheriarty angst in order to write a short bit of mycroft smut for the masses. xx. cw: smut! cunnilingus (f! recieving), praise, mycroft may start humping the bed while eating her out #king, married sex, not proofread :p
Day three of their honeymoon started just as every other day had, tangled in the bedsheets of their shared flat. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled when she saw that Mycroft was already awake, pressing kisses to her bare shoulder.
"Good morning, dear wife," he murmured softly, "You slept well?"
She turned onto her side to face him, pressing a kiss to his jaw. "I did. But I am sure you already knew that, my little mind reader."
"Not mind reading," he corrected, his hand squeezing the curve of her hip, "Just observation."
She giggled, "And what do you observe now?"
Mycroft chuckled, running his hand up her side until it reached her breast, running his thumb over her nipple. "It wouldn't be proper to say."
"To hell with propriety," she whispered against his ear.
He shivered ever so slightly, and leaned over her, slotting his hand between her legs, ever so happy that they hadn't gotten dressed after last night.
"You're so beautiful, you know that?" he kissed her cheek, his mustache brushing against the soft skin of her neck as he made his way down to her collarbone, running his tongue over it.
"Ah- flatterer," she accused breathlessly as he pressed his palm against her clit.
“I have no need to flatter you, darling,” he said matter-of-factly as he mouthed momentarily at her chest. “We are already wed.”
She canted her hips against his hand, whimpering softly, eliciting a smile from him.
“Open your legs,” he instructed, waiting for her to oblige. When she did, he cupped her face in his hand, “You listen so well, my dear.”
She flushed hotly, pushing herself up on her elbows as he settled between her legs and pressed open mouth kisses to her inner thighs, sucking little marks into the skin. Two fingers tenderly parted her open and pushed inside. Her back arched off the mattress and her hand gripped onto his hair.
“There there,” he soothed, his nose brushing against her cunt. “It’s alright. You’re doing so beautifully.”
“Mycroft, please-“ she pleaded in a whine, but was interrupted as he ran his tongue over her clit. Her thighs trembled at the sensation, but he held them open, wrapping his lips around the swollen bed and sucking it into his mouth. “Oh, God.”
He grunted softly against her, never once stopping his movements as he rubbed his cock against the soft linen sheets, his face warm and pink. His pupils were blown wide, and his eyes were half lidded, his lashes fluttering prettily.
“Please, Mycroft,” she whimpered, fervently petting his soft hair as her other hand ran over her chest. “Please- I’m so-“
“I know,” he mumbled against her, his free hand reaching down between his legs, wrapping his hand around himself and tugging wildly. “Let go, dear.”
She cried out, covering her own mouth in the hopes she wouldn’t wake their poor landlady.
He moaned against her cunt as he spent over the sheets, his mouth not halting as he worked her through her release. He held her thigh tightly as she convulsed and trembled, before finally kissing his way back up her chest.
“What a lovely way to break my fast,” Mycroft teased quietly, kissing the spot behind her ear. She laughed aloud, her body still flushed with heat.
“And now what are we to do with the rest of our day?” she inquired playfully, “We cannot possibly top this.”
He feigned a thoughtful expression, “I think we shall see what Mrs. Hudson has made for breakfast, and then we shall come right back in here.”
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven |
we have reached the epilogue! you know what that means? it means you can send in any mycroft/jane asks that you have, and i shall try my hardest to see to them ! i would also like to do a shameless plug of my current johnlock fic on ao3, which delves further into moriarty and sherlock's relationship if that is something you're interested in. i would just like to say a big thank you to everyone that supported and liked this fic, and everyone that has followed me because of it! im so glad to share it with you all!
opalite: the epilogue (m.h.)
The story of Silas Holmes' downfall was published within a week of their return home, and the wedding came shortly after. It was a small, quiet ceremony in the Oxford church, but it was everything she had ever dreamed of. Marie was not able to make it on such short notice, but she sent a letter with her congratulations and boasted wildly about her having predicted it. Wallace had a difficult time smuggling Buckle into the ceremony, but managed it nonetheless. Mr. Gilden wept the whole time, and was only consoled when she assured him that he could stay at the manor any time he liked.
What was left of the Holmes' attended as well. Cordelia was elated, what with the return of Beatrice and the marriage of her eldest son. Sherlock and James made it to the church on time, which was all that could be asked of them.
They spent their honeymoon in Mycroft's flat at 221b Baker Street, recovering from the events that had led them there, while scarcely being able to keep their hands off of one another. After these blissful few weeks, they returned to Appleton Manor, which Mycroft had inherited since his father's demise. Jane spent her days gutting all traces of Silas Holmes from the house, and redecorating to her liking. She was mindful of Cordelia's opinions as she did not want to get rid of anything dear to her, but Cordelia maintained that they should burn the whole place down and start from scratch. Jane deemed this unnecessary, and worked on bringing color and life into the home.
Mycroft spent this time working his way up at work, and doing so with a success that startled all of his superiors. He had gained a new confidence since his father's death, along with an ambition to provide not only for his wife but for his sister and mother. But the one who used up most of his resources was Sherlock. It was not money that he used, but time and energy. Mycroft had employed several people to keep an eye on Sherlock, giving him eyes and ears in every corner of London.
Moriarty— exactly as Mycroft had suspected— had begun to build his connections in the criminal underworld. Mycroft tried, many times, to have this conversation with Sherlock. It became clear that Moriarty had adopted Silas Holmes as an inspiration, and wished to replicate his empire tenfold. Mycroft feared that he would be able to do so, and with very little difficulty.
Sherlock struggled to come to terms with this, and much to Mycroft's dismay, began spending many a late night with him. Sherlock's mind was becoming more faulty by the day under Moriarty's influence, and Mycroft was the only thing keeping him afloat.
"He has gone to see him again?" Jane said sympathetically at Mycroft's solemn expression as he entered their bedroom and began to undress.
Mycroft sighed, pulling on his dressing gown, "I can hardly make him stay away. God knows he won't listen to me."
Jane watched him intently, as handsome as ever, "Come here, my darling," she persuaded, patting the empty spot on the bed beside her.
Mycroft smiled, climbing in beside her and pulling her against his side. "I know, I know," he brushed his nose against her, making her giggle, "I worry too much."
"No, I would say in this case you are worrying a proportionate amount," she cupped his cheek, "You may worry to your hearts content, my love, so long as you come home to me and let me soothe your fears. You needn't worry alone."
He pressed his lips softly against her own, "I shall never be alone now, dearest."
Okay I just finished the story of Mycroft and Jane and I have a questions for you... Are you gonna continue their story when season 2 released? And I want you to know that I love the story and looking forward to any Oneshot stories.
hi, thank you so much for reading!! i think that i will probably do a few one shots of them for season 2. i would continue the story in full, but i am unsure what s2 is going to look like, or if it will line up with the story i created for them at all— it would be a lot of plotholes that would bother me haha!
part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | part six | part seven | part eight | part nine | part ten | part eleven |
we have reached the epilogue! you know what that means? it means you can send in any mycroft/jane asks that you have, and i shall try my hardest to see to them ! i would also like to do a shameless plug of my current johnlock fic on ao3, which delves further into moriarty and sherlock's relationship if that is something you're interested in. i would just like to say a big thank you to everyone that supported and liked this fic, and everyone that has followed me because of it! im so glad to share it with you all!
opalite: the epilogue (m.h.)
The story of Silas Holmes' downfall was published within a week of their return home, and the wedding came shortly after. It was a small, quiet ceremony in the Oxford church, but it was everything she had ever dreamed of. Marie was not able to make it on such short notice, but she sent a letter with her congratulations and boasted wildly about her having predicted it. Wallace had a difficult time smuggling Buckle into the ceremony, but managed it nonetheless. Mr. Gilden wept the whole time, and was only consoled when she assured him that he could stay at the manor any time he liked.
What was left of the Holmes' attended as well. Cordelia was elated, what with the return of Beatrice and the marriage of her eldest son. Sherlock and James made it to the church on time, which was all that could be asked of them.
They spent their honeymoon in Mycroft's flat at 221b Baker Street, recovering from the events that had led them there, while scarcely being able to keep their hands off of one another. After these blissful few weeks, they returned to Appleton Manor, which Mycroft had inherited since his father's demise. Jane spent her days gutting all traces of Silas Holmes from the house, and redecorating to her liking. She was mindful of Cordelia's opinions as she did not want to get rid of anything dear to her, but Cordelia maintained that they should burn the whole place down and start from scratch. Jane deemed this unnecessary, and worked on bringing color and life into the home.
Mycroft spent this time working his way up at work, and doing so with a success that startled all of his superiors. He had gained a new confidence since his father's death, along with an ambition to provide not only for his wife but for his sister and mother. But the one who used up most of his resources was Sherlock. It was not money that he used, but time and energy. Mycroft had employed several people to keep an eye on Sherlock, giving him eyes and ears in every corner of London.
Moriarty— exactly as Mycroft had suspected— had begun to build his connections in the criminal underworld. Mycroft tried, many times, to have this conversation with Sherlock. It became clear that Moriarty had adopted Silas Holmes as an inspiration, and wished to replicate his empire tenfold. Mycroft feared that he would be able to do so, and with very little difficulty.
Sherlock struggled to come to terms with this, and much to Mycroft's dismay, began spending many a late night with him. Sherlock's mind was becoming more faulty by the day under Moriarty's influence, and Mycroft was the only thing keeping him afloat.
"He has gone to see him again?" Jane said sympathetically at Mycroft's solemn expression as he entered their bedroom and began to undress.
Mycroft sighed, pulling on his dressing gown, "I can hardly make him stay away. God knows he won't listen to me."
Jane watched him intently, as handsome as ever, "Come here, my darling," she persuaded, patting the empty spot on the bed beside her.
Mycroft smiled, climbing in beside her and pulling her against his side. "I know, I know," he brushed his nose against her, making her giggle, "I worry too much."
"No, I would say in this case you are worrying a proportionate amount," she cupped his cheek, "You may worry to your hearts content, my love, so long as you come home to me and let me soothe your fears. You needn't worry alone."
He pressed his lips softly against her own, "I shall never be alone now, dearest."
