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-- i think i prefer the Jaeger

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@hotrodngold/twitter

    Fic: Ashes, Ashes, We all Fall Down [XMFC] READ THE WARNINGS

    This is not a happy fic. I’m warning you now, this is not a bloody happy fic. Warnings include: child abuse, rape, incest, homophobia, transphobia, victim blaming, mental control, rape culture and a big heap of Charles not being the peace-loving hippy of the films.

    Kurt Marko in this fic is a lot darker, and less restrained in this.

    Charles is five. Charles is five and he’s frightened and he hurts. He’s frightened and he hurts and his new daddy is angry and Mommy won’t stop crying and he hurts. He hurts a lot and it won’t stop and he doesn’t understand why.


    He hurts.


    Charles is eight. Charles is eight and he’s frightened and he hurts. He’s frightened and he hurts and Father is angry again, always angry. He hurts and he thinks Mother should know, must know but she ignores him when he screams for her. He hurts everywhere and Mother doesn’t come.


    Read more
    — 18 hours ago with 1 note
    #hotrodngold  #terry also writes shit  #rape  #child abuse  #homophobia  #transphobia  #victim blaming  #rape culture  #mental control  #Charles Xavier  #fic  #not fun times  #be warned  #there be dragons  #raven darkholme  #mistique  #kurt marko  #xmfc 
    Audience Participation: Fic-Writing Edition

    cosmictuesdays:

    Taken from someone else on another network, deemed too good not to use.

    Ask me a question about one of my fics or series. It can be absolutely anything in any project and I will tell you the honest-to-goodness answer (even on the progress/plans for next chapters of current series).

    Don’t hold back. Whatever you ask, I’ll answer as truthfully and as completely as possible. You can also ask about my writing as a whole, if you like.

    (via lazulisong)

    — 1 week ago with 1744 notes
    #terry also writes shit 
    maeglinhiei asked: Tony Stark / "Love makes [you] do the wacky" BTVS :D


    Answer:

    Steve rounds the corner to the basement lab, Ruben and pickle on a plate in one hand and a tall glass of raspberry-kiwi iced tea in the other and pauses at the sharp bang. He starts walking faster, fighting a jog as Tony’s voice spits out a string of explitives, then:

    "I don’t even goddamn know, JARVIS. It all made fucking sense: Pepper and Iron Man and the Team, and I’d perpose and SI would get a year where Iron Man had no impact on stocks—and the next thing I know, me and Pep aren’t working, and the Malibu house is trashed and it’s like the thing with Vanko again, only this time my life nearly is trashed and I have no fucking clue what to do with that, and then Steve goddamn Rogers and his stupid hair and his spangly smiles and—”

    "And here I am, on a Saturday night, moaning over a guy who probably doesn’t even realize the laws of physics allow two dicks to be that close to each other, while my ex-girlfriend, ex-assistant makes out with my very stunningly deadly teammate.”

    Another loud clank—metal on metal—and the sound of something breakable shattering.

    "I don’t even know, anymore, JARVIS."

    — 7 months ago with 1 note
    #maeglinhiei  #ask!  #Steve Rogers  #Tony Stark  #SUPERHUSBANDS  #Captain America  #Iron Man  #terry also writes shit 
    An Ode to Sam’s Hair

    O locks so brown and flowing,
    Brushed back so neat and fair.
    With side burns of governance
    And ends that dance in the air;
    Shall never more we see you,
    So cropped pixie and short?

    Shall never again your bangs be beheld,
    Fluttering after derisive snorts?

    We miss thee, youthful locks of old,
    And entreat thee come again,

    Ask we now and ever more:

    "Hair and Make Up- the fuck were you thinking?"

    — 1 year ago with 2 notes
    #Hair and Sideburns Again: A Sammy's Tale  #Sam Winchester  #no really- the fuck were you thinking?  #the sideburns of doom?  #was this an attempt to turn him into a dwarf?  #he won't get shorter if you put more wiskers on him  #really i swear  #terry is fucking insane  #terry also writes shit 

    more than anything in the world,
    this very second,

    i want someone leaning over me.

    i want someone to wrap themselves around me, to rest their chin on my shoulder and pull me back against them;

    i want an arm around my ribs and legs on either side of mine and a sweet tune hummed in my ears;

    i want ticklish nuzzling kisses pressed under my ears and a thumb soothingly tracing my collarbone;

    i want contented sighs kissing against my jaw, fluttering over my neck;

    i want peaceful, heavy but content silences with all the words that don’t need to be said and i want it for hours;

    i want solid heat and steadfast companionship.

    more than sex,

    i want love.

    — 1 year ago with 5 notes
    #terry also writes shit  #terry is random and odd  #but terry occasionally wants things she shouldn't  #so that's okay 

    Tony worries at the inside of his cheek, muscles in his jaw working in quick beats as Steve watches on. He studies the broken repulsor in his hands, turns it over and around and about with an intense look, brows dipping and etching the lines around his eyes deeper.

    He looks like he’s trying to figure out a Millennium problem in his head. Steve waits.

    Tony thinking about an answer is rare enough, and this question in particular needed all the patience Steve can give him.

    "If you can’t laugh," Tony finally starts, glancing up with serious eyes, "then you have to cry. I’m done crying, Cap."

    "And it’s really hard to make a plan to get out when you have tears you’re trying to see through," Tony concludes, snapping the power cord out from the reactor and getting up. Steve follows him with his eyes, not quite willing to break the intimate seriousness his question- is everything actually a joke for you?- had inadvertently conjured.

    "And- Cap? Making plans is pretty much the only thing I do."

    — 1 year ago with 4 notes
    #Tony Stark  #terry also writes shit  #Steve Rogers  #make up?  #fic  #stony 
    winzler:

Feelsing all over the place now.

Just so you’re aware- I hate you. I should be in bed.
"Sparks and circuits, Tron," Ram whispers, horrified and guilty and some tangled up compilation of secondary subrutines that he’s noticbly missing index files for. "What’d they do to you?"
Tron smiles, a movement that only barely fits the parameters of the word before opening his mouth.
And closing it. And opening it again.
"G-ȯ͙̥̖̠̭͓ͮ͋͠o̦̫̱̟̬͙͍̺̒͑ͩ̂̎̊͂́ͅd͍̠̠̭͇̝̦͖ͨ̓͛̐̈́̃͑ to ̓͟͞҉̯̹̪̖̤s̩̮̑ͥ̈́̈́͊ͮ́͟ee you,̡̝͈͖̙ͮ̒ͪ̈́̽͜[[͔͚̝̪͙͈̾RA͍̥̰̯̼̥̋̓͌̉̊́͘͜M̴̶̹͉̏͂̈́̐̇̒]̢̗̬̖̖͉͍͈̩̿̈́͒͐ͭ̈́̌͜͢."
Ram pauses, processing. But no, Tron had-
"Tron?"
Tron smiles again, sadly. Twists so Ram can see the scar of corrupted pixels spiking up like the malignant code it was.
"How did- [abort] Why didn’t your- [abort].” Ram pauses, takes one long, careful look at Tron, and asks the right question.
"Where’s your User?"
Tron smiles again and cups the side of Ram’s face tenderly, like- Like Tron.
"Į̗̬̼̟͈͍͕̃͋͝ͅṯ̥̝̪̜͂ͭ͒ͧ̾̽̀͢’̴͉̼̦̗̳̘̩̬͕̎̓̄͛̎̊ͬs̵̡̘͚͈̹̱̠͑̄͑͂͞ g͐̋̔͏̵͚͍̖̼̟̙̤ͅo̰͓͎̩̠̙͇̻̗̾ͯ͐̐ͫͮͩ̐̀͟͝od ̀ͮ̐̿́҉͇̙͉̜̮̤̫t̷̹͋ͩ͌̆̍̈̈́̈́o͛͏̫̯̜͇ ̲͙̭̥̠̜͎̜́͋̽ͧ̋̉s̡̡̗̟͖̺̪ͭͯ̐eé̢̙̺͒̒̃̃̈͊͋͋ ͙̮͚̺̤̠̔̊͡ŷ̸̶̗̣̹̖͈̖̦̾͛ͅo̢͕̺ͩ̋ͭ̀ͪu͈̫̣̗̣̪ͯ̔̀."

    winzler:

    Feelsing all over the place now.

    Just so you’re aware- I hate you. I should be in bed.

    "Sparks and circuits, Tron," Ram whispers, horrified and guilty and some tangled up compilation of secondary subrutines that he’s noticbly missing index files for. "What’d they do to you?"

    Tron smiles, a movement that only barely fits the parameters of the word before opening his mouth.

    And closing it. And opening it again.

    "G-ȯ͙̥̖̠̭͓ͮ͋͠o̦̫̱̟̬͙͍̺̒͑ͩ̂̎̊͂́ͅd͍̠̠̭͇̝̦͖ͨ̓͛̐̈́̃͑ to ̓͟͞҉̯̹̪̖̤s̩̮̑ͥ̈́̈́͊ͮ́͟ee you,̡̝͈͖̙ͮ̒ͪ̈́̽͜[[͔͚̝̪͙͈̾RA͍̥̰̯̼̥̋̓͌̉̊́͘͜M̴̶̹͉̏͂̈́̐̇̒]̢̗̬̖̖͉͍͈̩̿̈́͒͐ͭ̈́̌͜͢."

    Ram pauses, processing. But no, Tron had-

    "Tron?"

    Tron smiles again, sadly. Twists so Ram can see the scar of corrupted pixels spiking up like the malignant code it was.

    "How did- [abort] Why didn’t your- [abort].” Ram pauses, takes one long, careful look at Tron, and asks the right question.

    "Where’s your User?"

    Tron smiles again and cups the side of Ram’s face tenderly, like- Like Tron.

    "Į̗̬̼̟͈͍͕̃͋͝ͅṯ̥̝̪̜͂ͭ͒ͧ̾̽̀͢’̴͉̼̦̗̳̘̩̬͕̎̓̄͛̎̊ͬs̵̡̘͚͈̹̱̠͑̄͑͂͞ g͐̋̔͏̵͚͍̖̼̟̙̤ͅo̰͓͎̩̠̙͇̻̗̾ͯ͐̐ͫͮͩ̐̀͟͝od ̀ͮ̐̿́҉͇̙͉̜̮̤̫t̷̹͋ͩ͌̆̍̈̈́̈́o͛͏̫̯̜͇ ̲͙̭̥̠̜͎̜́͋̽ͧ̋̉s̡̡̗̟͖̺̪ͭͯ̐eé̢̙̺͒̒̃̃̈͊͋͋ ͙̮͚̺̤̠̔̊͡ŷ̸̶̗̣̹̖͈̖̦̾͛ͅo̢͕̺ͩ̋ͭ̀ͪu͈̫̣̗̣̪ͯ̔̀."

    (via )

    — 1 year ago with 68 notes
    #rinzler  #Ram  #TOO MUCH FEELS  #god  #terry also writes shit  #when she's not FEELS 
    10 Headcanons for Clint Barton and the Hawk

    1. He feels twitchy on the ground- especially if there are tall/taller buildings around.

    Maybe it’s a leftover from the circus, maybe it’s just a ‘line of sight’ thing, but the back of his neck hums if he knows there’s the opportunity to be higher up than everyone else and he isn’t taking it.

    Read more
    — 1 year ago with 3 notes
    #Clint Barton  #10 Headcanons  #terry also writes shit  #Hawkeye  #The Avengers  #PHEEEEELS 
    "Stop!" Thor gasps, arms reaching out for his brother. "Loki, Loki, cease. It is done."
"No, no!" Loki shouts, pouring more magic into the still form clutched to his chest. "No, Eltheid, no. No."
"Brother, Loki- please,” Thor whispers, drawing him in, closer, curling around him, around them both.
"He’s not gone wake up Eltheid not-," in his arms, Loki’s breath breaks and he curls around the still form. Thor presses his forehead between Loki’s shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and his heart is breaking for his brother just as much as for their son. The son Loki doted on, praised and trained to Thor’s delight and pleasure. Thor holds the broken pieces of his family as Loki gasps and shudders beneath him.
When Loki is still and silent but for the odd gasping breath, Thor gentles and soothes until his brother lets the body be taken away to be cleansed and readied.He leads them to their rooms, Loki quiet and subdued in his grasp and he’s grateful they meet no one on the short trip.
He closes the door behind him carefully, methodically, and he removes Loki’s helm, his own. He removes armor and sets aside Mjolnir, strips them down to their under armor.
With delicate care, he places the last piece- Loki’s right bracer- in it’s place and turns back to his brother.
Loki stands where Thor put him, hunched in on himself and smaller than he should ever be.
Loki looks up from the floor, eyes lost and broken and Thor is already crossing the chamber when Loki asks, “What do we do?”
Thor doesn’t know.
"Why?"
Thor squeezes his eyes around tears, clutches his brother closer.
He has no answers.
"Why?"

    "Stop!" Thor gasps, arms reaching out for his brother. "Loki, Loki, cease. It is done."

    "No, no!" Loki shouts, pouring more magic into the still form clutched to his chest. "No, Eltheid, no. No."

    "Brother, Loki- please,” Thor whispers, drawing him in, closer, curling around him, around them both.

    "He’s not gone wake up Eltheid not-," in his arms, Loki’s breath breaks and he curls around the still form. Thor presses his forehead between Loki’s shoulders, eyes squeezed shut and his heart is breaking for his brother just as much as for their son. The son Loki doted on, praised and trained to Thor’s delight and pleasure. Thor holds the broken pieces of his family as Loki gasps and shudders beneath him.

    When Loki is still and silent but for the odd gasping breath, Thor gentles and soothes until his brother lets the body be taken away to be cleansed and readied.He leads them to their rooms, Loki quiet and subdued in his grasp and he’s grateful they meet no one on the short trip.

    He closes the door behind him carefully, methodically, and he removes Loki’s helm, his own. He removes armor and sets aside Mjolnir, strips them down to their under armor.

    With delicate care, he places the last piece- Loki’s right bracer- in it’s place and turns back to his brother.

    Loki stands where Thor put him, hunched in on himself and smaller than he should ever be.

    Loki looks up from the floor, eyes lost and broken and Thor is already crossing the chamber when Loki asks, “What do we do?”

    Thor doesn’t know.

    "Why?"

    Thor squeezes his eyes around tears, clutches his brother closer.

    He has no answers.

    "Why?"

    (Source: pootles, via lawhore)

    — 2 years ago with 749 notes
    #thorloki  #ART  #terry also writes shit 

    beingacliche:

    rangerkimmy:

    #can you imagine if we left these 4 guys alone in the top floor of stark tower for like a month #or even just a week #SHIT WOULD GET DONE #we’d probably have interstellar travel in 3 days

    #to be honest they probably wouldn’t get much done #they’d be too busy bonding over how much fun science is #and having sleepovers and doing each other’s hair 

    Ok, okay here’s how it goes (bastardizing canon, ahoy):
    (edit): Now officially reposted on AO3 as Tony Would Like to Register a Protest (With Captain Rodgers’ Ass).

    Because Tony’s a nice person (and Steve’s an utter ass, no really, you have no idea) he lets the Avengers move in. It’s not like he needs the space, hello mansion, and Bruce and Cap really don’t have anywhere that’s not stamped SHIELD to stay anyway. And after Spiderman joins, it’s just easier to move Peter and MJ and Aunt May in with them.

    Because the Kingpin’s kinda an ass and kinda a poser, but the man’s got reach, okay and Tony doesn’t have a family, not really, but he knows what it’s like to lose something and he doesn’t want that for the Parkers.

    And, really, the kid’s a genius. Setting him up with his own corner of one of the genetics labs in Stark Tower is just good business, honest. If Peter ever actually takes him up on that job offer.

    In the meantime, Bruce blows up a few tables, Hulk smashes some more, no one’s really sure what happened to the spectrometer but neither of the two of them are saying anything about it, and some Awesome Shit gets made. Between the three of them, and a Dr Conners who pops in to consult for the neurological bits, they manage to have a stable visual prosthetic prototype to help blind-from-birth people see. In a month and a half.

    So, Tony awesome, right?

    You following?

    Good, the next bit is even easier:

    Steve Rodgers is an utter ass.

    Here’s how it goes:

    Reed Richards is a self-absorbed, frigid bastard, and Tony is totally the one to ask. He’s completely read up on the subject, did his dissertation in ‘cold shoulder and brush offs’ and has ‘narcissistic control freak’ on his business cards (after ‘genius’, ‘billionaire’, ‘playboy’ and ‘philanthropist’. Pepper had thought it was amusing but hadn’t made him fix it. He still uses them occasionally, paper and all). Tony totally has the PhD in this.

    Richards? Bastard.

    So, when Tony hears how one of Hammer’s little pathetic attempts at a robot minion trashed the Fantastic Four’s labs, Tony’s not doing a little sadistic smirk. Oh no.

    No- see, Tony?

    Tony puts on his tube socks, his Ray-Bans, one of Steve’s white dress shirts, blares some good ACDC and dances. Oh, he totally shakes that.

    Bruce laughs so hard, he clutches his sides and falls off the couch, Clint rolls his eyes and rolls right past the living room (probably to raid the freezer for the last of the peanut butter ice cream). Steve, though?

    Steve tilts his head to the ceiling, puts a hand over his eyes in exasperation and tells Tony- Tells Tony- that Richards had requested housing and assistance from SHIELD until the rebuild was completed in exchange for something, something, quantum-shield, something blah.

    See how that went? Yeah, that’s about what it sounded like to Tony, too, because he got distracted by Steve following it up by admitting he’d volunteered the Tower for the purpose.

    Suddenly, dancing in your underwear wasn’t nearly as fun.

    Suddenly, Tony has to actually think about- actually think about- the logistics of hosting the fucking Richards and fucking Johnny fucking Storm on his property. Fuck his life.

    (Ben Grimm was fine. Ben Grimm was awesome. Like a politer, slightly smaller, but more gravely red Hulk. No science. No rouge experiments that blew up a building, Jesus Christ, Richards.)

    Fuck.

    But half his problem is actually taken care of by his resident spider-geek, and they seem to be getting along stupidly well and Tony’s so going to have to sit the kid down after the sleepover and lay some ground rules like ‘not listening to a fucking thing out of Storm’s mouth, he is the king of property damage, okay and I like, and you like, the labs whole, in one piece and not missing vital components, alright, fine, you get this?’ (Maybe he’ll make Steve do it.)

    And, okay, Sue is fine (oh boy is she ever) so he doesn’t have to worry about his labs with her, but that still leaves Richards floating around.

    Tony would completely give him a broom closet and a cot and lock him out of all the labs in spite, but there are chemicals in the broom closets. Tony knows better.

    So, instead, Tony gives him one of the isolated, pretty unused (really dusty) labs and sticks a cot down there. (He blinks innocently at Sue when she gives him a Look, because of course Richards- Reed- would much rather be on hand in case a data run finished so he could get right back to it, seriously. Tony tried not to gag when Richards looked pleased at this and nodded along with his explanation.)

    Then Tony proceeds to not come out of his workshop for a week.

    He’s not hiding (shut up, Clint.)

    There are important upgrades that he needs to put into Iron Man (shut up, Clint.)

    He doesn’t intend to forget meals until way past when everyone else (ok, almost everyone else) is already asleep (fuck you, Clint, and the fucking dick you rode in on.)

    Finally- it might be Thursday- Steve lets himself into Tony’s workshop. Captain America and Thor have been requested on Asgard. Political, something something, make nice, happy gods, something blah.

    Basically, they’re leaving him alone. With Reed Richards.

    For a week.

    Someone hates him.

    Someone seriously hates him and has it in for his mental and penal health.

    No. No, he is an adult, not a very mature one but an adult and he’s done board meetings and stockholder meetings and press conferences (although, those admittedly do not go as well for him. Historically.) He can do this.

    He wasn’t expecting the surprise attack. (But he should’ve been, because Reed fucking Richards and that, that right there is enough of a reason to fill a bucketful of reasons.)

    But how hard can it be to kill pinkish, purple goo?

    Do not answer that.

    Whatever you do, don’t answer that.

    In fact, just- don’t mention that entire week again, okay? Because Tony? Tony’s about had it.

    Johnny Storm and Reed Richards and a month and his Tower and Steve and Tony’s done. He’s just done and pink slime on top of that?

    No.

    Just done.

    But…

    Ugh, Okay, Richards might’ve, might’ve saved his life. A tiny bit. Just a little. A micron’s worth or so. Not a lot.

    Because he hadn’t been in the suit when the thing first showed up and swallowed him whole.

    Because Hammer was a persistent bastard and also imminently stupid.

    And about to be in a whole lot more pain.

    (How sending a blob of semi-sentient pink goo to get the Iron Man counts as a well-thought out and technical plan, Tony can’t figure. Then again, Hammer=stupid. It’s a theorem he’s worked with for years now, and he’s found it particularly effective.)

    (Poor bastard probably needs to get laid.)

    The celebratory, (mandatory, Richards) after-battle drinking binge is a lot less fun without Thor, but hey, you work with what you got. Johnny’s got a surprising repertoire of drinking games stored up in that noggin, and fewer scruples (and desire to touch expensive, delicate equipment) when plastered. It’s also refreshing to be able to drink someone other than Clint or Banner under the table. (Bruce is an adorable, cuddly teetotaler.)

    The truly awesome bit comes the morning after, where Richards is up bright and early. Tony doesn’t stumble down for a few hours, but he can tell (mostly by the way the frying pan is washed and the coffee is already lukewarm.)

    No hangover. Richards- Okay, that is unfair.

    And Tony’s completely ready to hate him even more when Richards stretches (that will always be creepy, Richards) a small, silverish and pink pill at him.

    "For your head."

    God, how can anyone be that earnest in the mor-

    Holy fuck.

    Richards- Reed has a hangover cure.

    "Oh my god, I think I love you."

    Reed’s lips quirk in confusion, but he thanks Tony before going back to the pad and- his emails.

    Hm.

    "You know, I have a more sophisticated spam blocker and an email filter program that makes Outlook look like something dreamed up by a demented child."

    Huh. Totally didn’t mean to say that, but, you know, whatever.

    It’s true.

    So Tony informally spends the rest of his hangover-free day installing software for Reed and bickering good-naturedly about the feasibility of arc reactor production on a large scale. There might be puns involved.

    And a conversation about Starbucks. And not the coffee.

    (Okay, first impression might’ve been a little. Off.)

    When Steve gets back with Thor, he expresses his effusive disbelief at Reed’s continued existence.

    Peter, the little shit, opens his mouth- and his doom- with ” Oh, no. It was cool. Well, about ten minutes after you left, Tony hid in his room for- well, until the gay-goo attacked. Then they went at it like school girls. I think someone actually used the words ‘that colour is horrible with your skin tone, you’re completely a Winter.’”

    Tony’s going to reprogram his room to nothing but show tunes.

    Then he remembers what MJ does.

    Damn. Okay, maybe Lambchops?

    He’ll figure out.

    (Source: harrydresdens, via emberfiredrake)

    — 2 years ago with 138145 notes
    #hnnnn  #yes this  #surprise!Ioan on my dash makes me happy  #Avengers  #Fantastic Four  #Spiderman  #Iron Man  #Hulk  #impromptu ficing  #because of reasons  #terry also writes shit 

    hotrodngold:

    So.

    I have some free time, and a cap_ironman bingo card.

    Let’s have some fun! :D

    Here’s a list of the prompts I’m considering:

    • Canon: Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes
    • Kink: Rimming
    • Curtain fic
    • Art: Black and white
    • Kink: Multiple orgasms
    • Established Relationship
    • Marriage Proposals

     Votes?

    I have one for curtain fic, and two for proposals. The proposal fic is started (Tony ran off and is being the teeniest bit dense, at the moment, so we’re on schedule) and I’m searching for a suitable start for the curtain fic.

    I don’t want it to be too ridiculous, you know.

    #What am I saying this is Marvel #We live on ridiculous

    — 2 years ago with 3 notes
    #Avengers  #Avengers assemble  #terry also writes shit  #there is voting ahead  #things to write  #all the things 

    So.

    I have some free time, and a cap_ironman bingo card.

    Let’s have some fun! :D

    Here’s a list of the prompts I’m considering:

    • Canon: Avengers: Earth’s Mightiest Heroes
    • Kink: Rimming
    • Curtain fic
    • Art: Black and white
    • Kink: Multiple orgasms
    • Established Relationship
    • Marriage Proposals

     Votes?

    — 2 years ago with 3 notes
    #Avengers  #Avengers assemble  #terry also writes shit  #there is voting ahead  #things to write  #all the things 
    Safely Lead You On [Sherlock/John; R]

    So, yes, this is a consent-play fic, so read with caution because I’ve warned and anything after is at your own peril. Also a bit of hinting at past, off-screen sexual assault but completely vague.


    John waits until the door of their rooms shuts, Sherlock three energetic steps and an enthusiastic ‘John!’ ringing through the flat before he moves.

    It takes him seconds, quick, brutal, efficient. Arm under the chin, around the throat, pressure-

    Read more
    — 2 years ago with 1 note
    #Sherlock Holmes  #sherlock/john  #john watson  #terry also writes shit 
    Once more
    AU in which Greg, not Molly, helps him fake his death.

    He’s silent for a moment, looking out over the Thames, squinting against the bitter winter wind.

    When he does speak, it’s not the expected question, but Sherlock answers it anyway.

    "He’ll be upset."

    "Yes."

    "He’ll hate you," Lestrade points out.

    Sherlock can’t help the small smile that flits across his lips. “Yes.” At least its appropriately self-derogatory.

    "He’ll hate me," Lestrade mutters, hunching down further into his jacket either against the wind or- no, there, the slight frown. Against the idea, then.

    And Sherlock laughs. Chuckles, “no he won’t.”

    Lestrade smiles sadly, shakes his head ruefully, barks out a laugh. “No, he won’t.”

    "You’ll do it, then?" Sherlock asks, though he knows the answer already. He knows the answer and how much this will hurt (both of them- all three of them), but he has no one else to ask and Greg is possibly the last person anyone would believe to be involved.

    Lestrade shuffles, hunches further (cold, this time). Looks up across the Thames and then further up. Stares at the stars.

    "Yeah. I’ll do it."

    Sherlock smiles, sad and slow.

    To be alone once more…

    — 2 years ago
    #Sherlock Holmes  #lestrade  #terry also writes shit