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I'll bite the hand that feeds me...
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ESSAY ALERT
Hello! Just dropping by to let everybody know that I just posted this essay on Substack for free, and while it already existed on my Medium, it is one of my favorite things I've written and figured I would share it :)
The essay can be found HERE
TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged): @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @discordantwords @holmesianlove @7-percent @swissmissficrecs @silentauroriamthereal @detectivewsherlocksholmes @cumberlocked221 @sherlocksglance @hellobitches990 @jbaillier @88thparallel @beesholmes @lockedin-221b @missdeliadili @johnlockiseverywhere @johnlocky @lostinsherlock44 @starfleetholmes @thatswhyhestays @lhrinchelsea @topsyturvy-turtely
Hello there!
Figured I would drop by and announce I started a free Substack and Medium accounts for the occasional essay or analysis, so if you like my writing, you might want to check those out!
New Substack post can be found HERE
And my favorite Medium post -though I will also move it to Substack soon- can be found HERE
That's all, if you're interested I would love a read! Let me know!
TAGLIST (let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged): @helloliriels @totallysilvergirl @discordantwords @holmesianlove @7-percent @swissmissficrecs @silentauroriamthereal @detectivewsherlocksholmes @cumberlocked221 @sherlocksglance @hellobitches990 @jbaillier @88thparallel @beesholmes @lockedin-221b @missdeliadili @johnlockiseverywhere @johnlocky @lostinsherlock44 @starfleetholmes @thatswhyhestays @lhrinchelsea @topsyturvy-turtely
In The Arms of Love (Fighting With The Wolves)
Wake up babes, I just returned from the dead.
Final chapter, a year late, to be found HERE
Sneak Peak:
John had gone to buy a stake, or nine, his words. Having decided Sherlock deserved the pampering of good meat. A meal he would, no doubt, charge to Mycroft’s card. However, the man had not reproached him for it. No, Mycroft had stayed in his office for hours after his conversation with the good doctor. Thoughts of his brother, both young and now grown, swirling about in his Mind Palace.
John had been right about one thing. Sherlock had always been wild, from the moment he learned to crawl, his baby brother had never stopped moving. Or dreaming. Or running.
To think of a wolf now was maddening, yes, yet… real, in a way he hadn’t expected. After all, Sherlock had found his first friend in a wild Red Setter named after a pirate. Now, the wild thing was Sherlock himself, and if that was the case, perhaps things had not changed as much as he’d feared. He was sure his brother had been a Lycan for far longer than he’d hoped. Perhaps since adolescence, for all Mycroft knew.
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In The Arms Of Love (Fighting With The Wolves) - CHAPTER 1
In John’s mind, his first kiss with Sherlock Holmes always ended in a cinematic declaration of unending love and, after some more life-like awkwardness, devastatingly wonderful sex.That’s not what happened. And John, as the man he was and always would be, had not even thought of complaining.
How could he, when Sherlock had taken John’s hands into his own and kissed each of his knuckles with a gentleness he’d never been given before, by anyone. When they reached for one another once more and met in a sweet, breathtaking dance of lips and tongues and love love love. When Sherlock, suddenly shy and overwhelmed and beautiful, had clung to John’s chest, arms around his shoulders, fingers digging into his back, nose pressed firmly into the side of his neck.
No, there had been no sex. Not yet, anyway. Maybe not ever, but he had everything he could ever want. After all, Sherlock hadn’t stopped clinging to him with his every breath since that night, and it’d been little over a month already. John had never been happier, his life had taken to colour and life and bliss in a way he could’ve never imagined. Nothing would ever compare to Sherlock’s devotion, except perhaps for John’s own, and wasn’t that the true meaning of a miracle?
KEEP READING ON AO3
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In The Arms of Love (Fighting With The Wolves) - Chapter 4
He was a dead man. John Watson would be murdered soon and he would have no one to blame but himself. At least he would find comfort in knowing Mycroft wouldn’t be far behind. Maybe even first, if the constant growling hid a preference.
A dog bed.
Mycroft had gotten Sherlock a dog bed.
Oh, it was gonna hurt. Sherlock was going to tear them apart slowly, painfully. They were done for. They would die screaming and they deserved it because what in the seven levels of hell was Mycroft thinking with a dog bed. Sherlock didn’t even fit, he was too large, and the bed for a dog, not a creature of legend -urban, yes, but legend. Damn it, Sherlock was the size of a small car. What the hell was he thinking.
“If you would just cooperate”, Mycroft started, desperately trying and miserably failing to hide how much he wanted to step back from the sharp-fanged creature that was his brother.
Sherlock’s response was perfectly worded in the shape of a thrown and terrifying bite near his brother’s midsection.
“Sherlock!”
Mycroft did step back now, and thank God for that. Any other time, John would admire the man’s ability to stare back at the younger Holmes even when said Holmes was gigantic and covered in blood. Now? Now he was just bordering on clinically insane.
READ FULL CHAPTER ON AO3
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Waxing Prometheus - Amy Reads and Stresses
Read on AO3
Sherlock thinks of himself as Icarus, beautiful and foolish, rugged ambition and the desire to burn. Flown too close to the sun, they say as they watch him fall, wings ripped appart. Cocaine made a good substitute for crisped feathers. Nothing felt quite like flying as being high. Nothing felt quite as burning as falling of a roof.
Moriarty was made of wax was the fire was the sun.
Sherlock was the angel, fallen, demonic and useless and flightless.
John thinks of Sherlock as Prometheus. Beutiful, bitter, brilliance made out of spite and superiority and the most powerful of loves Earth had ever known. Moriarty was death, was rot was the eagle on a cliff.
Sherlock was real fire, gifted as a secret to mortal foolish soldier John. Sherlock Holmes, real Prometheus, inventor of sacrifice in the name of Watson. The source of John's faith, larger than life and creator of men. Heaven knew John had been but a shell, empty and cracked, before Sherlock William Scott Holmes.
At dawn, beneath bed sheets, sweating and devoted to each other, John would whisper prayers on Sherlock's lips, speaking words of Hercules and menacles broken by his own hands. The detective would be silent, basking. Come morning he would discard the mantle of hero in John's name and grow back his waxy, broken wings.
Sherlock knew himself a fallen dreamer.
John knew him as his creator.
On the other side of the city, Mycroft knew names didn't matter. Sherlock, once blessed, had fallen for a mortal man. His gifts belonged to Earth now. Olympus would forget him, in time.
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In The Arms Of Love (Fighting With The Wolves) - Chapter 3
John took a long sip of his tea with a smile. He’d texted Sherlock before his latest patient walked into his office, asking after dinner and wishing to a northern star his partner wouldn’t sneer at the very thought of food. On his break, now, John relished the quiet after a hectic morning. Once Sherlock left he’d called the clinic and all but begged to be called in. While Sherlock could spend days left alone in the flat and perfectly entertain himself, John couldn’t handle more than a few days before being the one to take up shooting the walls.
Just the last three hours had done wonders for him. John had always licked to keep busy. Not that he hadn’t been extremely, deliciously busy exploring Sherlock’s body and lips and beautiful neck with his hands and tongue and even a bit of teeth. He couldn’t wait for tonight, and the day after that, and the day after that. This was a life he could get used to. A life he’d spent years longing for, gone searching for in a war, and thought he would never find.
KEEP READING ON AO3
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Finally! So sorry for the delay, I was badly sick for a while there and couldn't get myself to write. I hope you guys like it and remember to let me know if you want to be tagged or untagged :)
