He’s happy for her, really he is. No one deserves happiness as much as Molly Hooper does.
She’s suffered, at his hands and the hands of others. She’s lived through being used by men who discarded her without a second thought when her usefulness was at an end - lived through it, survived it, and come out all the stronger for it.
He admires her for that, although he winces as an inner voice sneeringly reminds him that he’s one of those people.
And he is, there’s no getting around that fact. He used her, lied to her about his feelings, pretended and faked and made her feel special only to discard her.
So the fact that she’s currently walking down the aisle on the arms of Gavin (Graham?) Lestrade, acting in loco parentis, a wide, beaming smile on her face as she glides toward her soon-to-be-husband– That’s all on him. For letting her go. For not realizing a good thing when he had it.
For being a complete and utter arsehole.
“Good bye, Molly Hooper,” he whispers to himself, from his shadowy corner at the back of the small chapel. She’s being kissed on the cheek by DI Lestrade, handing off her bouquet to that Meena woman she used to prattle on about when he was half-listening, and clasping hands with him.
The one who doesn’t deserve her.
Then again, he thinks with a pang of regret, no one alive could really deserve her.
No one dead, either, that inner voice sneers, sounding very much like his favorite nemesis.
“Neither of us deserved you, but he won fair and square,” he murmurs as he moves unobtrusively toward the door and leaves the happy couple and their friends to complete the ceremony without the Spectre at the Feast that he represents.
Once outside, he adjusts his expression from wistful to blandly amused and gestures for a cab. It stops for him immediately - he has what many have referred to as an uncanny way with them - and he climbs inside.
Gives one last look at the chapel exterior, pictures Molly and her new groom - lucky barstard - walking outside, hand in hand, being showered with rice or birdseed or whatever is fashionable these days. Kissing each other, surrounded by adoring friends and family.
All the things he could have had, if he’d only realized what he had…
No. “No regrets,” he says aloud, and the cabbie gives him a quizzical look.
“Nothing,” he says, waving a hand at the man.
“Where to, then?” he asks with a shrug.
“221B Baker Street,” he says, leaning back and stretching his arms along the back of the seat. “Have to drop off a gift for the bride and groom.”
With those words, Jim Moriarty smiles, tucking away his feelings for the woman he vastly underestimated into a corner of his dark little heart, and considers the next step in the long game he’s playing.
Eurus will be so pleased to see him again - and she’s sure to have some very creative ideas now that she’s come out of her catatonic state.
After all, she’s the one who gave him the idea for the perfect wedding gift for the newlyweds.
He smiles again, a dark, anticipatory smile, and the cab speeds away.
OOOOOOOOOHHHHHHDANG
Oh yes! This one had my emotions spiraling!
This is, hands down, one of the most brilliant things I’ve read in ages.
Think I might have missed self-promo day, but I just happened to stumble upon these drabbles I wrote a few years ago and I gotta say, they’re pretty cute. They still bring a smile to my face, surprisingly. Take a look if you have a moment! And if anyone has a drabble prompt, I’d be down to take a stab at it!
I apologize for taking a bit longer with this weekend’s update. I had a hectic week and hardly no time to write. I’m hoping to get back on track this week and have the updates this weekend. Some may be earlier than the 26, but for the moment, that’s what I’m looking at.
February 26-27: Cinderella’s Beast, Lost Love, Queen and Smoak, and Crossing Realms.
I have been working on getting a schedule for the fic updates this month, and here it is!
February 12-13: I will always find you (Klaroline); Protecting His Family (Sherlolly)
February 19-20: Cinderella’s Beast (Klaroline); Lost Love (Stargate)
February 26-27: Queen and Smoak (Olicity); Crossing Realms (Sherlolly)
These are based on personal messages and recent reviews from readers who are waiting (patiently) for updates. I will get to the other stories as soon as I can, but for now, these are the ones I’m focusing on for this month! Thank you!
To those who follow my stories, as you know I haven’t been updating the past few months. November through January are the busiest months for me, if you didn’t know. Work and family take over my life during those months, but I just want to let you know that I have not forgotten you guys.
Description: Eight months ago, Sherlock’s love, Molly Hooper, disappeared. Months later, she’s found him, but things have changed. She’s carrying their child and is on the run from his newest adversary. Now, he must protect the woman he loves and their child while bringing down his new foe. Because no one messes with Sherlock’s family.
It took weeks of secret planning. Her closest friends had risked everything to ensure her safety. The servants, those who loved her, ensured her secret escape. It was dangerous, but with only a month left until her child was born, she had no choice. She refused to allow that man to take her child away, claiming it was his, taking the last foothold against Sherlock Holmes. She refused to allow the product of hers and Sherlock’s love to be tainted by hatred. So, now she was here. She just wasn’t sure how long before he found her.
She only hoped Sherlock would not turn her away. Even though he loved her before, who was to say he still did after she was gone for nearly eight months. Out of reach from his network and friends. Out of reach from him. It was no wonder her friends believed she was dying. She was without love, except for the child within. It was the promise of seeing him again that kept her going. The promise that he would find her or she would find a way back to him.
She felt him before she heard him. The door to his flat opened after hurried footsteps outside climbed the stairs. Mrs. Hudson probably contacted him. Maybe Mrs. Hudson’s phone wasn’t tapped, but now, it didn’t matter. Molly knew Sherlock would try to protect her, even if he hated her for leaving. She held her breath, refusing to turn around. It was now or never.
He stood in the doorway, gripping the handle until his knuckles ached from the strain. She was here. He couldn’t believe it. He blinked a few times in order to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming, and relief overwhelmed him when she continued in his sight. All those months spent searching, hoping, and now, here she was. The woman who haunted his dreams. The woman he loved more than anything. Molly Hooper.
His feet dragged, propelling him to ensure that he wasn’t dreaming, as he slid off the Belstaff and scarf, dropping them on the floor. He had to physically touch her, not just blink, and see if she remained in his vision. He had to hold her, kiss her, touch her. He had to know she was there. He stopped in front of her, watching her with her eyes closed. Her long hair was as he remembered, falling delicately down to her waist. The baggy clothes did nothing for her. Even sitting, he could tell they just fell on her, not accentuating the curves he remembered so well and dreamed of for months.
Her eyes fluttered and time seemed to stand still as he stared into her brown orbs. She breathed his name and his heart nearly made him fall on his knees, giving thanks that she was here.
Molly was feeling the same as she held his gaze. He was just as she remembered. His curly hair was still straggly but still cut to perfection. His body was lean and the shirt he wore pulled in all the right places, like the purple shirt she loved so well. His face was smooth and his eyes. Oh, his eyes were the same heterochromatic color as she dreamed. He was still so handsome, and her heart tightened. Her hands twitched in her lap, aching to touch his face and hair.
“I searched for you.”
Four words that held the world. She tried to smile but failed. “I tried to get word to you,” she returned. “Michael found out.”
His jaw clenched. So, it was true. His adversary had discovered Molly. “He had you.”
She nodded. “I tried to fight him, but he knew what to say to keep me.” She inhaled deeply, squaring her shoulders. “But thankfully, I made a few friends. They helped me escape, and find my way back to you.”
His arms jerked, wanting to hold her, but something held him back. There was something she wasn’t saying. Something he needed to know. “Why are you here?”
Molly’s eyes closed, briefly praying that he would understand when she revealed everything. “Because I need you, Sherlock.” She inhaled, rising to her feet, with a mild struggle. She straightened watching his expression change to disbelief. “I need your help for our child’s sake.”
I couldn’t resist writing a simple story to this. I hope you enjoy! (I saw this as a Sherlolly story, but see it how you wish it!)
It was a simple arrangement.
She would write simple poems for his mother, and he would paint her portrait.
He couldn’t tell her the truth, and he wasn’t sure if he wanted to. The truth was more dangerous than anything he ever did in his life. The cases he worked were nothing compared to the adventure with her. Hours spent in the room upstairs as she posed and laughed. Oh, how he loved to hear her laugh. He loved hearing the melodic sound and the way it filled his soul. The warm tingles and weak knees were becoming more frequent. He wanted to tell her.
She wanted to tell him the truth. She wanted to tell him that the poems were only a cover. From the moment she saw him she wanted to get to know him. The times he entered the morgue to work cases were the brightest times in her darkest days. He brightened her in ways she never thought possible, especially after her father’s death. She wanted to tell him.
The day she saw the painting, he stood inside the door while she uncovered the canvas. As the sheet floated to the ground, he watched her reaction. Her eyes widened taking in the subtle colors of the painting, the stroke of each brush, but it wasn’t the colors or texture of the painting which caused tears to fill her eyes.
Covering her mouth, she gasped as she stared into the brown eyes of herself. The sparkle of joy within color. The sly twitch of a smile on her lips. The windblown hair. The dress flowing outward as she twirled. She was dancing. She was beautiful. She was in love.
He approached her then, dropping his arms from his chest. His eyes focused on her face, taking in every line, memorizing them as he had in the painting.
“For love is not a stand still emotion,” he began, quoting the simple poem he requested. “It is a dance within a song. It is expression in the highest form. Not one could ever understand or try to comprehend. For the dance never ends for the heart who sings.”
She turned, seeing the words for the first time in the painting he lovingly crafted. “You love me,” she stated, tearfully.
He dipped his head forward. “As you love me.”
She breathed out, stepping closer, just as his arms wrapped around her. His lips touched her forehead before trailing down to her lips. Their lips met in a tender form before they pulled apart to gaze into each other’s eyes. Smiles lit their faces for they had finally spoken the truth.
He wanted to pain the woman he loved and she wanted to write poems to express the love she had for him.
In the end, they received both a song and a dance in the form of a painting and poem.
Over the years we’ve had a lot prompt fills submitted to us. I thought it would be nice to shine a spotlight on those individual submissions. Please give the author or artist a bit of love.
Original Prompt: Your soulmate was an artist of centuries ago, and currently, you’re an art student at university (or not but you’re taking an arts class). Then one day for a field trip, you go to a far-away museum and you just find yourself staring at what was your reflection, wearing different clothes to fit the timeline but it was definitely a split-image of you, on one of the framed displays. (A fanart answer for this prompt would also be awesome!) - @mousedetective
Some strange guy is bothering Molly, so she tells him that Sherlock is her fiance in order to make him stop. To her surprise, Sherlock goes along with it. Maybe he goes even further by announcing it to family and friends. Now what does Molly do? - @shadowyqueenbeard
Sherlock and Molly are finally on their honeymoon | This is just a fluffy little follow up to Here Be Dragons (not truly necessary to read prior to reading this).
Sherlock rolled over and smiled at his sleeping wife. Wife. I like how that sounds. He ran his hand over her stomach and lifted the sheet so he could press several kisses there.
Molly stirred at his touch and brought her hands up to run through his wild curls.
“Morning,” she said, her voice still heavy with sleep.
He kissed his way up to her lips, taking his time. “Good morning, wife.”
“Mhm.” She smiled at him as he rubbed his nose against hers. “Husband.” She lifted her chin and kissed him again, softly. “I like the way that sounds.” He chuckled quietly and shook his head. “What?” she asked, a smile still on her face.
Some strange guy is bothering Molly, so she tells him that Sherlock is her fiance in order to make him stop. To her surprise, Sherlock goes along with it. Maybe he goes even further by announcing it to family and friends. Now what does Molly do? - @shadowyqueenbeard
