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beneathashadytree · 1 year

Note

Hi again! May I request for the 2K followers event a smut piece with Louis Moriarty with

Prompts: 40, 55 and 70 (Reader saying 40 and Louis saying 55 and 70)

Thank you!

MESSY - LOUIS MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : lots of kisses, mutual masturbation, blowjob, mild ball play, almost-fingering (m!receiving), cum swallowing, facial, mild cum play, no power dynamics I think, this is not proofread, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : smut (but they’re so in love)

Word count : 0.9K words

Additional notes : Hi nonnie! I really liked the prompts you chose, and kudos to you for giving me a chance to make this reader pretty bold! Really hope you like this 💗

Prompts : “Let's just have sex instead.” “I'II go gentle. Though, we can always change that.” “Your face is a mess... a very pretty mess.”

Tip jar if you’d like to buy me a Ko-Fi!

Masterlist

Stumbling in the hallway amidst their passionate kiss, they could barely keep themself upright, let alone notice that they were now dangerously close to the ballroom. With a shudder and a squeeze of his eyes shut as though to bring himself to his senses, Louis was the one to pull them apart.

Clearing his throat, he managed to say, “We should probably head back inside.” Though it was the right thing to do, they could tell from his darkened crimson eyes that it was the last thing he wanted—and that fact alone was enough to embolden them.

“Or,” they thoughtfully offered, entwining their hand with his, “Let's just have sex instead.”

A faint blush bloomed on his pale cheeks. “Darling, I don’t think—“

“Don’t think.” They shook their head at him, earnest eyes trained on his warring expression. “Just feel. What do you feel?”

“I feel like… I need to have you,” he admitted, the redness on his cheeks growing deeper. “Now, preferably.”

“Then come with me.” And with little to no forewarning, they pulled him along by the hand, running down the hallways like a pair of youth with nothing to worry about.

Finally, it was Louis who pushed the door to his room and sent them both stumbling back onto the bed, a tangle of limbs and hurried hands and needy kisses, amidst wildly thumping hearts and rampant emotions. They could never get enough of this man, and it seemed that both their body and soul were in agreement.

When they’d pulled away with a clear enough head to find themselves both equally stripped of their clothing and his hand between their legs, they were met with Louis’ ever-so-tender gaze. Something in them snapped, and they decided that they wanted nothing more now than to please him.

With an adoring smile of their own, they began to press soft kisses down his neck, trailing down to his exposed chest and the taut muscles of his abdomen. When they were close enough to where he was so impatiently awaiting their touch, they pressed diverting kisses to his hipbones, something that had his cock jumping eagerly against his skin.

“Someone’s eager,” they chuckled, before taking that as an invitation to suckle on his tip, already weeping so much pre-cum at nothing but their soothing kisses all over his body.

He groaned at the very first contact of their lips on him, before steadying his breathing enough to say, “How can I not be, when you look at me like that?” The vibrations of their laugh against his cock had pleasure tingling down his spine, as they took him even further into their mouth and coaxed a moan of their name from him, and a promise. “I'II go gentle. Though, we can always change that.”

They pulled him out long enough to mumble, “Whatever you want, my love,” before taking him in once again into their sinful mouth. So warm and wet, they took him so perfectly that it had him fighting the urge to arch his back off the bed. Their tongue swirled expertly around his tip, sucking on him like it was their favorite thing to do.

Deft hands found their way down to fondle with his balls, cupping his weight in their palm and alternating their gentle massage between them. It was his favorite thing, they’d learned; having himself played in every way was always the best way to get him to grow numb with pleasure.

It seemed like it was taking everything in Louis to not thrust up into their mouth, and glancing at him only served to make them whine around his cock. He truly was an angelic vision of ruin; his blonde hair splayed under his head, crimson eyes blown wide with sheer lust, his lips swollen from biting them in an attempt to hold back his desperate moans, and his cheeks rosy.

All it took was a daring circling of their wandering finger to his tight rim of muscles, and he was already pulsing in their mouth, before shooting his load down their throat. They pulled him out of their mouth with a wet pop, and their palm coaxed more cum from his heavy balls.

Ropes of his release landed on their face, and the sight alone had Louis swearing expletives as he scrambled to sit upright. The look in his eyes was predatory, to say the least, and being the target of it had the warmth in their core swelling, and their thighs crossing tighter in hopes of some much-needed friction.

“Your face is a mess... a very pretty mess.” His fond smile somehow making the moment feel all the more intimate, despite the vulgarity of it all. “I’ll wipe it all off, then you must let me return the favor, alright?”

Before he can make well on his promise, they wiped off some of his release with their index finger, and stuck into their mouth to suck it clean with a hum of satisfaction. Louis’ eyes darkened, and his cock grew harder at the sight. At that moment, he swore to himself that he would not be returning back to the party without making his lover climax with his mouth and filling them up twice, at the very least.

Taglist : @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

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redskull199987 · 1 year

Note

Can I request William James Moriarty x reader making out and reader was so loud that everyone heard them so when they got down Moran and Bond were teasing reader and she is so emotional so she started crying and ran from room and Louis, William, Albert and Jack wanted to kill these two but they went straight to apologize to reader

The right Decision

William James Moriarty x female!reader Request

Word count:1.2k

Warnings:making out, emotional reader

Summary: You and William were supposed to join the others for tea but you have other plans..

Masterlist

A few weeks ago, I wouldn't even have dared to think about what was happening right now. A few weeks ago, William was nothing more than a close friend, just like the rest of his family. But now, it was different. Since I confessed my love to him, he never seemed to be more than ten meters away from me. To be honest, I was surprised that he even wanted to persue a relationship with me, considering the plans he had.

But he did nevertheless.

And that's exactly how we ended up here. Huddled up in William's bedroom, with his hands all over my body, while we were actually supposed to join the others downstairs for tea. I could smell the sweet scent of Louis'selfmade green tea all the way up to where we were sitting on William's bed.

"Will?", I mumbled, as he softly kissed the sensitive skin behind my ear.

"Will, we should join the others", I tried to reason with him, but William only whined and raised his head to look at me.

"Five more minutes", he whispered and softly caressed my cheek with his tender fingers.

"This is so unlike you, Will", I mumbled, while he pulled me into his lap.

"It's because you make me feel a whole new emotion", He mumbled, his crimson eyes fixated on mine.

I felt a blush creep up at my neck. William was so different now. While he was already caring and friendly before, he now seemed like he wanted to protect me at all costs. His soft touches telling me that he would never dare to let anything happen to me.

"Is it Love that you feel?", I asked, as his hands started to push up my skirt, his palms resting on my thighs while I pulled his face back to mine.

"That and so much more", he confessed. A sigh escaped me, as he pressed his lips against mine in a tender, yet passionate kiss. I felt how he pulled me impossibly closer. And it almost felt like this moment could last forever, like he wouldn't die in a few months. It felt like he would throw all that away and just stay with me forever.

But I knew that he would never do that. He had worked his entire life for this and he wouldn't give it up for me.

"I know, what you are thinking about, my love", William said, as we parted,"You are thinking about my death, aren't you"

I only nodded. I knew lying to him was worthless. I watched as a soft smile appeared on his face.

"You know", he mumbled, placing a soft kiss on my forehead,"If I would've met you earlier, I might've stopped persuing my goal"

My eyes widened upon hearing his words:"Really?!"

He only nodded:"I would've made sure that protecting you is the only Goal I have"

"Oh, Will", I sighed pulling him back towards my lips. I knew that this meant much more than just saying 'I love you'.

And now as he kissed me so passionately and touched me so gently, I knew that I wanted to spend the rest of my life with him. And as moan after moan escaped my lips, I knew that I wanted nothing more that for him to live. But I knew that I couldn't change his mind. I would try anyways though...

"Look, who finally made it to tea", I heard Moran say, as William and me finally made our way downstairs to the others. I could see that him and Albert were playing a game of chess. Albert was about to win though.

"Sorry, that we're late", William smiled and took my hand, pulling me into his side,"We were just enyjoying some time alone together."

"Of course you were", Bond smiled, a cup of tea still in his hand, as he sat down between Louis and Fred on the sofa.

I already felt my cheeks blush, as William guided me into the room. Suddenly everything felt so wrong. I almost regretted giving in to William's request to stay in his room a little while longer. The only thing grounding me right now, was his firm grip around my waist.

"Y/N, tell me how is William doing as your lover so far. He almost seems to innocent for a parter", Moran grinned, his dark eyes fixated on mine. Usually, his flirty behavior didn't bother me but right now it all seemed too overhelming.

"We're doing fine, Colonel", William smiled politely, as he took a step forward to reach for the two ramaining cups on the table.

"Oh, we could certainly hear that", Moran grinned and mindlessly moved a chess piece in front of him.

And that little comment was enough. I didn't know what had gotten into me, but my shoulders slumbed and I felt tears burning in my eyes.

"Excuse me", I mubled, before quickly making my way back upstairs. I didn't want them to see my like this. So vulnarable. It was enough, if William had to see this side of me.

I quickly made my way back into William's room. I threw the door shut behind me and immediately retreated onto his balcony. As the fresh air hit my face and the soft rays of the afternoon sun hit my face, I could already feel myself calm down again. Today was probably just an emotional day. With William's confession earlier, I felt alll over the place.

A quiet,"God damn it", left my lips as I cursed the fact that I couldn't control my feelings at times like these. Especially because I wasn't the only one who felt like this. With the great finale of William's plan coming closer and closer, every single one of us was on edge. And I had to be the one who needed taking care of again, as always. That thought almost made me want to cry again and I fiercely gripped the balustrade of the balcony.

"My love?"

My eyes widened, as I heard William's voice behind me. I turned around and saw him standing in the middle of his room. The rest of the group seemingly wanted to hide behind his frame.

"I'm sorry, Y/N", Moran said and immediately made his way over to me. He looked at me ashamed and took my hand, falling to his knees,"I know it's not easy for you. I shouldn't have said, what I said."

"Its fine, Moran", I assured him and moitioned for him to stand up again. What he didn't expect was, that I pulled him into a firm hug.

"We're all on edge, so no worries", I explained and looked at the others with a smile,"I trust William and I know his plan will work out. For all of us."

"Thank you, my beloved",William said and bowed slightly. The others followed his example.

"Now come on", I said, striding towards him and taking his hand,"Let's drink a cup of tea, before it gets dark outside"

"It would be my pleasure", Will smiled.

Together with the others, we walked back to the living room and I couldn't say that I regretted it, because I got to see Moran despair in a game of chess against William. So, in the end, I knew that pursuing this relationship was the right decision.

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baggedbloodandmilk · 1 year

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uhm…

hola…

So I have exams and I havent done shit bUT…

I made a plot for a genshin story so there’s that

diluc x server!reader x childe…

william x professor!reader x sherlock one will prolly be updated simultaneously alongside the genshin one

And by updated I mean writen, hell if I actually posted those 2 around the same time lmao

Sorry for those who want a new chapter of Herbs & Heroes, ik I left it at a horrible spot with Ilia finally in the mix alongside Y/n, Link and Vaati but fuck u anyways

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moriartyluver · 7 months

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Hello🙋 it's me yet again. How's it going?

Are you still taking requests? If you aren't, please ignore this.

If you are, could I please request a William x Reader oneshot? I got inspired by that poker chapter (I hate Johnson).

So, one night, William, Albert, Moran and Bond decide to play poker, and the winner will be recieving a kiss from William's wife (they somehow persuaded her to do it💀). So, William pulls some intelligent shit (I'm stupid, ok?) and obviously wins. Bonus, he asked reader to sit in his lap for good luck🤭.

I really hope this is not confusing and thank you very much! ❤️🥰

A/N: I’m still taking requests dw 😭 this request got me giggling and blushing omg 🤭 I’d sell my soul to get to sit on liams lap 🛐 (I hate Johnson too)

Character(s): William James Moriarty x fem! Reader

Format: oneshot

Genre: fluff + spicy

Prompt: above^^

Warnings: established relationship (marriage), reader is female, gambling??, a little bit spicy. Way too short 😞

“POKER?”

“That’s right, darling. We’d invite you to join but..” William trailed off as you scanned the table. Fred and Louis were observing while Bond, your husband, Moran and Albert were all sat around a table, the poker set out.

“But what?” You asked, feeing slightly left out. “Because I’m a woman?” You were half joking but everyone knew that playing games like cards or poker were not very ladylike.

Bond shook his head “You’re the prize, (nickname). The prize can’t be playing because then what shall you get if you win? It’d make more sense for you to watch instead.”

You raised a brow in confusion. You? The prize? What on earth was that supposed to mean?

“When you say it like that, it makes you sound perverted.” Moran commented from beside Bond, a subtle smirk on his face.

You look over to William as if demanding an explanation. He smiled sheepishly, it wasn’t him who had declared the bet and he’d much rather not have you on the line.

“What Bond meant to say was that the winner is supposed to get a kiss from, you, (name).” Albert explained with a smug look and a sip of wine as usual, watching his little brother furrow his eyebrows in slight irritation from beside him. “Nothing too extreme, just a little peck on the cheek.”

Clearly he had some of not all the responsibility of creating the prize. Albert wasn’t as much of a mastermind as William was, but God, he had the tendency to meddle and scheme in other peoples lives whenever it could provide entertainment.

You looked at him with wide eyes. “I didn’t agree to this! You can go bet on something else,” then you paused “Nevermind that, as the lady of the house, I’d much rather not have any gambling take place within the estate, or anywhere for that matter. Haven’t you learned anything after that run in with Mr Johnson?”

“Oh don’t be like that, (name), it’s just for fun.” Moran laughed, although there was a slightly guilty tone in his voice, like a child caught misbehaving “Besides, we all know Louis acts more like the lady of the house much more than you do.”

Louis glared at the colonel then rolled his eyes while you held back a snort from his reaction.

You sighed begrudgingly “If you insist..but if I do, then the loser has to do all of my chores for the next month.”

“Two weeks.” Louis negotiated with a stern look.

“Deal.”

Fred was about to pull a stool out for you to sit on but was stopped by William calling out to you. He had his evil (yet attractive) little mischievous smile on so you knew he was planning no good. Chances were, he was probably going to win if Moran didn’t cheat as usual but with a kiss from you up for grabs, he had become even more competitive and determined to win. Both because he adored any scrap of affection he could receive from you, and because he dreaded the idea of you kissing anyone but him, even if it was strictly platonic.

“Come sit here, my dear,” He said, patting his thigh. The corners of his lips were turned upwards “I need my lucky charm to help me win your affections.”

“Do I have to?” You groaned, clearly flustered by the idea.

“Please?” He pleaded, looking at you with a teasing yet innocent expression. You gave in, walking over to him and sitting on his lap while your husband wrapped his arm around your waist, securing you in place. You look at him as if to say ‘you’re lucky I love you.’

“L-Let the game commence.” You said, hoping not to draw attention to your flushed expression as you played off your stutter

“Damn.”

“Oooh, unlucky Bond,” Albert chuckled as James frowned at his loss.

It was finally William’s turn as he was sat beside Bond and the turns went clockwise.

“Your turn, dear.” You said, hand on his shoulder. You could see a smirk forming on his face. One that he would usually wear whenever he would bring corrupt nobles to justice or read of Sherlock’s work in the paper or whenever you would tease him. A smirk he would proudly wear with satisfaction.

You peer over to look at his cards, eyes widening momentarily. You look back at your lover’s face as his eyes land on you. William gives you a wink, ever so smug from what is seconds away from being a win. You had been observing him the entire game, and yet he still managed to get his way as usual.

His hand clutched his cards, ready to spread them over the table while his other hand caressed your waist, thumb massaging the soft flesh over your clothes.

Everyone had been waiting in anticipation, silently observing your reaction aswell as William’s. It was a general presumption that he would win though, partially due to his intellect, partially due to his possessive nature.

“Royal flush.” William stated nonchalantly as he spread his cards on the wooden table.

Moran tossed his cards to the ground in anger, clearly because he had the potential to win if William wasn’t so damn lucky (not for the sake of being kissed, just for the fact he was once again so close to beating William but just not close enough) James has his hand cupped in his cheek, glad Moran didn’t win whilst Albert could care less, he just wanted another glass of red wine.

William could only smile, hoping not to appear boastful despite how badly he wanted to brag, not because he won, but because you were going to kiss him. Although it seemed you had forgotten that now because of how proud you were that he won.

“It seems I’m much deserving of a prize now,” William whispered to you, pulling you closer to him “Don’t you agree my love? I did play so well just for you.”

You pause, recalling the original deal. You hesitantly nod, still annoyed that you were the prize because if you weren’t, you probably would have won anyways.

“Fine.” You groan, leaning forward to press a kiss to his cheek.

Except you don’t.

The cheeky bastard turned his head at just the right moment, possibly intentionally, for your lips to land on his. Wolf whistles echo through out the room along with a “get a room” from Moran who recovered from his loss.

You pull away gently, tapping William I’m a faux scolding manner before sticking your tongue out at Moran, about to hurl some insults before William kisses you once more.

#—a’s anons 💄#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #mtp william #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #—a’s asks 💌

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fairy-writes · 8 months

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Hiii! I'm a fan of MTP and i haven't seen many William fanfiction :')

The things is mother is being such a pain right now, i have my period today and it's painful, i got a headache and my mother is painfully hard to deal with today she even brought out my insecurity and insulting me with it. Aight.

So i was thinking... How is William and Louis if they're little sister is insulted, y'know when they are still a child, cause i feel like it's easy to get insulted when they are still nobody, or even from the 'family'. If you can, please make this a oneshot, but i'll leave the decisions to you ;)

Thank you so much, i hope this is not a burden

And have a good day! <3

PROTECTING THE WEAK

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Moriarty the Patriot

Pairing(s): William James Moriarty x Reader

Louis James Moriarty x Reader

Word Count: 0.6k

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Female!Reader, PLATONIC RELATIONSHIPS (don’t make this weird ya sickos)

Notes: I’m so sorry this took so long to get out and that your mum was being a pain, hon! If you need to talk, I’m here! This goes out to all my followers. My DMs are always open for talking and chatting!

The ages of everyone are as follows:

William: 11 (I tried to keep name usage for this boy to a minimum since we still don’t know his real name.)

Louis: 10

Reader: 8

TW for Lady Moriarty’s abusive behavior

__________________________________________________________________________

Your brothers have always been… protective ever since you were young. Well… younger. Especially ever since you began to live with the Moriarty’s, they had taken to keeping you out of nearly everything they could. You knew it was to keep you safe, so you allowed it.

Most of the time.

But things don’t always go to plan.

Louis finds you wiping teary eyes in your shared bedroom and drops the laundry he had in his arms.

“What happened?” He demands, and you sniffle, scrubbing the tears away stubbornly.

“‘S nothin’.” You mumble; your “improper way of speaking,” as Lady Moriarty put it, betrays how you really feel.

Inwardly, you curse yourself and try again.

“I’m fine, Louis.” He helps you up from where you had been curled up on the bed that you shared with him. After all, Lady Moriarty refused to allow you a third bed for the tiny room in which you shared with your two brothers.

“Clearly not. What happened? Do I need to get—”

“No!” You exclaim, cutting him off before he can say your eldest brother’s name.

You didn’t want to worry him—no more than you had already bothered Louis with your crying.

Louis said your name quietly, eyes wide and imploring, as he pleaded with you to tell him what had happened.

“Lady Moriarty just said some mean things, is all.” You finally say and feel Louis grit his teeth where he had leaned his head on yours. He and your eldest brother were taller than you, but it wasn’t that big of a surprise. You were only eight years old, while they were ten and eleven, respectively. But you had always been small.

It was one of the things Lady Moriarty hated about you.

Well… she hated everything. But today, she had decided to pick on how small and weak you were.

“You’d be better off dead in a ditch somewhere!” She had shrieked when you had been caught sneaking tarts from the kitchens. You had been hungry, is all!

“Did she touch you?” Louis asked, and you shook your head.

“She doesn’t want my “peasant filth” on her clothes.” You mumbled, and it was then that you heard another voice.

“You ought to have touched her then.” Comes the voice of your eldest brother. You whirl out of Louis’s hug and turn to see him standing in the doorway. His ruby red eyes are ablaze with anger, his bony fingers clenched into fists.

You watch him as if expecting him to direct his anger onto you.

But that was a silly thought.

Your lower lip wobbled as he took three steps into the room and gathered you in a tight hug. It wasn’t often he hugged you, preferring to help you rather than show physical affection. But you knew that he knew that you needed a hug, and he was more than willing to give it to you.

#louis james moriarty x reader #william james moriarty x reader #moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #ynm x reader #yuukoku no moriarty #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #louis james moriarty #fairy writes

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user-needs-new-hyperfixation · 8 months

Note

I really want to know about 13.

This is just chapter 13 of Love, In All Its Disrepute, which kind of accidentally went on a back burner because I got attacked by plot bunnies for oneshots.

In which Albert is in a bad mood:

"At least he’d spent the better part of the day happily distracted by spending time with William and Louis, having promised to take them sightseeing. It’s been a while since the two of them spent any significant time in London, and they had happily whiled away hours exploring shops and museums with Albert simply reveling in their enjoyment. That had been distracting enough for a time. Now it’s evening, and the negotiators have gathered at the Moriarty manor. Albert only grows gloomier the longer he goes without finding an opportunity to pull Mycroft aside. He won’t be settled until Mycroft tells him he can be. The realization of that does nothing to improve his mood. The further realization that Mycroft is intentionally avoiding being alone with him, teasing, tips him from sulking straight into fuming."

#moriarty the patriot #yuukoku no moriarty #mycal #wip ask game #fic excerpt

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femboykyo · 9 months

Text

Moriarty the Patriot Characters react to "Daddy"

Pairing: Louis Xtransman oc(Juniper)

His reaction: He has no feeling for it

Tags: 18+, smut(implied), kitchen fluff, making food together, oneshot

I was helping Louis cook something for lunch as I usually do when he asked for a spice next to me. I gladly handed it over to him.

“Thank you, Juno.”

“You’re welcome, Daddy.” Louis seemed unfazed and continued to work on lunch. I arched a brow but assumed maybe he hadn’t heard me. After he put some vegetables into the stew, he came up behind me and wrapped me in a hug.

“I appreciate you helping me, Juno.”

“Well, I just happened to be free, Daddy.” He kissed my head with a hum and started cleaning up some dishes. Once again he seemed so unfazed and I was more confused. I set down my knife and walked up to Louis.

“Daddy?”

“Child.” I stopped in my spot as my mind processed what he just said. I laughed behind my hand and held my stomach.

“What did you say?” I said through giggles.

“Child.” I laughed harder and it was his turn to be confused.

“Sorry, it’s just kind of funny.”

“I assumed we were saying what we weren’t.” I shook my head.

“It was meant to get you turned on.”

“I see. Well, I’m not sorry to say it doesn’t.” I settled to chuckles and rested my head on his shoulder and he continued cleaning.

“I can see that. Is there anything that does, then?” He seemed thoughtful for a moment then shrugged.

“I don’t believe there is, Juno.”

“Interesting.”

“There is one that gets you though.” He grabbed a hand towel and turned off the water, glancing at me from the corner of his glasses.

“Oh? What’s that?” He grabbed my chin and our eye gazes made contact. His look was intense and there was the smallest upturn of his lips.

“Mine.” I took in a shaky breath and his smirk grew.

#george lastrade #yuukuko no moriarty #albert james moriarty #louis james moriarty #moriarty the patriot #sherlock holmes #william james moriarty #john waston #sebastian moran #mycroft holmes #james bonde #ynm #mtp #ynm fic #mtp fic

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joanquill · 2 years

Text

Moriarty The Patriot Masterlist

Guide: Fluff: 💞 Angst: 💧 Songfic: 🎶 Sensitive: ⚠️ Platonic/Non-Romantic: ✨

|ONESHOTS|

William James Moriarty

Lavender's Blue 🎶

Alone Together ️🎶

'Till We Meet Again 💧 -> 💞

Professional Care 💞

Here For You 💧

Starting Over Again

Run Away With Me 💞

Sweet Dreams

Another Ordinary Day

The Noahtic Mission + Surprise Visit

Ballroom Wallflower

Welcome Back ✨⚠️

Recharging... 💞

Cute Meet

New Discoveries ⚠️

Something to Celebrate

Vacation

Amusement Park Date

Sherlock Holmes

Weddings

Boundaries 💧 -> 💞

A Day With The Great Detective

But You're An Ocean Away 🎶 + Can We Just Talk?

December Snow Days 💞

Song For You 💞

Don't Stress Out

Love You The Same 💞

Rejection 💧

Interconnected

Albert James Moriarty

Daily Life

Sleepless Night 💧 -> 💞

Leave Me Alone 💧 -> 💞

Runaway Bride 💧 -> 💞

Sugarcoated News ⚠️ + Bittersweet Reaction

Unexpected Family Reunion ✨ + A Mother's Love ✨ + Chosen Family ✨

Alcoholic ⚠️

Barefoot Cinderella

Brother From Another Mother ✨

By My Side 💧 -> 💞

Mycroft Holmes

Insecurities 💧 -> 💞

Louis James Moriarty

Sick Day

All Because Of A Bookmark

Sick Of It

Wanna Fight?

Sebastian Moran

Dropping By

What A Chore...

He's A Tramp 🎶

Fight In Town

Fred Porlock

Speaking My Language

Care to Join? + Part of The Team

Trend Gone Wrong

Shopping Day

Daddy-Daughter Day

John H. Watson

Take a Break ✨

Irene Adler/James Bonde

In Another Life + Slow Dance With You 🎶

Behind Closed Doors + Put On A Show ⚠️

Miss Hudson

Gals Being Pals

Zack Patterson

Drunken Confessions

Multiple

[Random]

Birds and the Bees

Monsters At Night ⚠️

Not My Cup of Tea

[Moriarty Brothers]

Dear Sister ✨ + It's the Double Standards for Me ✨

[Sherlock & William]

Hope You're Feeling Better 💞 + You're Okay 💞

That's My Best Friend ✨

A Day Out + Spilling the Tea

[William & Louis]

Speaking Up

[Albert & Sebastian]

None of the Above

YuuMori Masterlist II (HEADCANONS/SCENARIOS)

Events Masterlist

#yuukoku no moriarty x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #masterlist

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turnupswritessometimes · 3 years

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All’s Fair (SherLiam) - Part 2

The two parts are only loosely liked, so really stand alone as oneshots.

Title: All’s Fair

Chapter: 2/3

Word Count: 4692

Summary: Sherlock had noticed William Moriarty since he had entered the foyer.

Not that he was hard to miss, with his crown of blonde hair and fine clothes. With those bright, almost red eyes. There was something about him that made people take notice. He stood out from the crowd. It had to be intentional.

Did he know Sherlock would be here? He could do - could have seen the robbery in the paper and guessed that Sheock would be at the theatre to investigate. If that had been who he wanted to see. Of course, he could be investigating himself; since he was, seemingly, just as drawn to crime. But would William come all this way for that? (When Durham must have had it’s own crime.)

Unlikely.

A03 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29183583/chapters/71650485

Sherlock had noticed William Moriarty since he had entered the foyer.

Unlikely.

There was probably business he had to attend to in the city. Perhaps a coincidence that he had chosen this theatre. Perhaps didn’t even know about the robbery, and simply wanted to see an opera.

It was more probable that he did know all of it. That he gathered Sherlock Holmes would investigate. That he, like a cat sat up a tree, was taunting the dog below.

Sherlock swallowed a mouthful of whiskey, and kept his back turned to the room. He wouldn’t play this game. Annoyed; it annoyed him, because he couldn't figure out if he was glad to see William or not.

Because Sherlock had travelled to Durham, and spent the afternoon in William's bed. Because William, when adjusting his shirt, and redoing the sleeve buttons at the end of it all, had glanced at him and said, "better that it's just this time."

Sherlock had still been lying across the sheets. Still looked a mess, he knew. Still felt as though he had just taken a very long drag of opium.

"Wouldn't want to ruin your reputation?" he said. Smiled crookedly.

William looked at him, then. With a slight narrowness to his eyes and purse at the corner of his mouth that suggested he knew something that he wouldn't say.

"Wouldn't want to ruin yours."

He'd laughed. Just laughed. And tried to content himself with the once. He'd had similar dalliances, some that lasted even less in the past. It would be fine.

But it wasn’t. Because he couldn't always tell what William Moriarty was thinking. Because William gave him the high that opium did, and was likely as bad for him. So how could he leave him be?

"I say, isn't that the man from the train?" John was with him, glancing across the room as though it would provide them with more clues.

"I believe so." Sherlock drank again.

"Well, sorry for saying.” John had a tinge of sarcasm to his voice - the tinge of a question. “I gathered that you were quite taken with him."

Well, Sherlock had never made his affection for William secret, but he hadn't realised his displeasure was just as noticeable.

"What have I done to suggest otherwise?" he asked. Wondered if William had also spotted him. No doubt. He had eyes like a hawk. Would he come over first, or would it be up to Sherlock? He swirled his glass.

"I may not be able to pick up as much as you, but I'm fairly good with facial expressions," John said. "When I mentioned him, you looked miserable."

"It’s..." Was there a word to sum it up? This feeling of magnetism, of attraction, juxtaposed with the feeling of danger radiating off that man? "Complicated."

Complicated because William was very beautiful, and was a more than competent lover. That would be enough, just on the surface, to have mixed feelings about seeing him once more, and not knowing whether there would be a repeat of the last time. But there was also the fact that he was almost certainly a criminal into the mix, if not the criminal Sherlock was hunting. He'd felt that way when they'd met on the train, and though William had played his bluff off as a joke, that didn't make the feeling go away. There was more to that man than met the eye.

John smirked, and sipped from his own drink. "I'd wager on it being complicated."

"Why's that?

He looked at him then, with a frank look of exasperation. "Nothing's ever simple with you, Sherlock."

He laughed, then. Longer and louder than he had meant to, but John got him like that sometimes. When he was so honest, it just cracked him up.

A hand appeared on the small of his back, like the laugh had conjured it. Someone letting him know they were there, before they stepped forward.

Of course, he knew that hand. Knew who would let him know they were there in such a way.

"Mr Holmes."

There he was, in a high-necked collar like Pollidori’s Vampyre. His waistcoat was heavily embroidered with thorny plants - the same strange red-brown as his eyes. Stunning, really. The picture of a Lord.

William's hand was still on his back. And that meant all of them – their faces – were close.

Sherlock forced himself to smile back. To make sure that he tilted his head so that his hair caught the gas lamps on the bar, and made his teeth glint.

"Liam. What a surprise."

William smiled wider - like a fox, seeing through the forced polite tone. But then, he was meant to. "My brothers - Albert, and Louis, who I'm sure you remember?"

Oh, he remembered Louis. Remembered the way he narrowed his eyes at Sherlock whenever he saw him, and his general air of disproving. Even now, next to William, he was practically glaring behind his glasses.

Albert seemed less judgemental - less knowing - and offered a gentlemanly smile.

"Of course." He gave an easy smile - uncaring, that was him. "And, of course, you remember my friend, John Watson."

And he put a hand on John’s shoulder. William smiled, though there was a tightness at the edges. Perhaps just the ache of being polite, or Sherlock could flatter himself and say it was a tinge of jealousy.

"I was not aware that you enjoyed the Opera," William said.

"I don't, particularly." Sherlock smiled. He hoped that would niggle at him - that Sherlock was not a man of culture. "We're here on a case."

"Oh my -" William looked politely shocked, a hand over his chest, as though he was scared – as though he didn’t know. "Are we in any danger?"

He'd said 'we,' but it was clear he meant himself. Sherlock caught Albert's raised eyebrow. Maybe slightly more knowing after all. Would he take Louis’ side?

Sherlock leant against the bar, resting his elbows on it. Not what one should do in polite society, but that was the point. “If you keep a close eye on your purse, you should be safe."

William smiled. Tilted his head in the way that drew attention to those long locks of blonde hair. Like gold.

"I'm fairly good at that." His fingers tapped a trouser pocket. He wasn’t stupid enough to draw attention to where he was really keeping his purse, of course. It was bait.

Sherlock let his gaze linger there - not for long enough to look as though he was going to steal it - but long enough to show William that he remembered what was so close to that pocket.

"So am I."

William chuckled. Sipped the wine in his hand, and Sherlock sipped the whiskey.

"Are you offering to do the job for me?" William asked.

It was an offer to spend the evening together. On the surface, simple. An invitation for Sherlock to sit close to William all night, and more than likely travel back for a nightcap. More than lightly display how deft he was at violin again. (How could he refuse that?)

More complicated, when William had made it clear that he did not want to make a habit of that. So why was he suggesting it?

He played it safe. "Depends on what seats you're offering."

It was Albert's turn to smile. A different smile to William. He was more like a Labrador retriever. But that didn’t mean he had no teeth.

"We have a box with plenty of room for guests."

William's red-brown eyes seemed to gleam in agreement.

Sherlock turned to his companion. "A box, John. How exciting."

The sarcasm was not lost, rather ignored. John was too polite to be openly scathing.

"That's a very kind offer."

"Not for an old friend. Maybe it will even aid your case, seeing things from a new perspective."

Sherlock took another drink, before answering. Logic and facts and most emotions were a simple cause to figure out. William Moriarty's feelings, though, were another matter.

Nevermind the feelings, there was more to this man. He had met Sherlock's bluff with another bluff, playing it as a joke. It was clever.

And it didn't clear him from suspicion.

"Perhaps," he finally answered.

"Then join us," William said. "Please."

John was watching him. Waiting for him to say it, and when he didn't, took matters into his own hands.

"Thank you very much."

It decided the matter for Sherlock - and he had been about to decline the offer. He was about to decline.

He didn't have to do everything William wanted.

But he did go back to the Moriartys' box. He did sit next to William, and it was helpful to see the theatre from up here.

Albert had a lady friend too, and she filled the box with chatter - chatter enough to cover that John was clearly nervous, and out of his depth.

Chatter enough to drown out Sherlock's voice as he leant over to William.

"And what a coincidence to see you here, Liam."

William had an elbow on the arm of his chair so that he could rest his chin on the back of his hand.

"Why's that, Mr Holmes?"

Because he could never call him simply Sherlock, even after he had stuck his hand down his trousers. More than once.

"Because wherever there is trouble, you are not far behind it."

"I'm unlucky."

"And a far way from Durham."

William's smile was subtle. A cat who had the cream.

"Oh, I thought we'd established that London and Durham are close enough for casual visits."

He had Sherlock there. It had been Because he'd wanted to know more about William, that he'd travelled up there. He had told himself that it was investigating, but then flirty words had dripped off his tongue and -

He had gone because he was attracted to William. Body and mind.

"Indeed," He managed to reply - as much as admitting defeat - just as the curtain began to rise for the second half. He leant back in his chair, and let his eyes rove around the theatre.

Concentrate on finding the route a thief would take and not be caught.

William changed the arm he was resting on, so that he was leant closer to Sherlock.

"Don't be cross now, pooch."

Which made his hackles rise. He glanced at William, and back at the show, as though he didn't care. About the wordplay or the nickname.

Two could play at that game. He waited until William was not leant so close, and leant back further, adjusting his own arms - let a hand fall down onto the seat next to him. Onto William's leg. His thigh. He just - nudged his fingers - to get the shape of it, and felt William shift in his seat.

He didn't react straight away. But then his shoe was pressed firmly against Sherlock's. Traced around it, and up the back of ankle.

Sherlock held his breath and pretended to be focused on the show. He kept his hand on William's thigh, though, and inched higher.

“I’m not cross,” he replied. “Moggy.”

“Moggy?” His foot disappeared from Sherlock’s.

Sherlock just smirked, eyes still on the performance. There. He had won that one - had annoyed William, and that counted as a victory.

William's hand rested on his own. For a moment, it stayed there. His fingers were slightly shorter than Sherlock's. He remembered that hand tugging at his hair. That hand around his -

That hand pushed Sherlock's away. He looked over to see William watching the show. He took a sip from his drink with a satisfied smile, then sat back. It was ridiculous, that his heart was racing so. Completely irrational.

But then, he'd never behaved rationally, where William Moriarty was involved.

It wasn't five minutes later, when there was a dip in the music, that William placed his glass on the small table set in front of the seats. He turned to Sherlock, mostly hidden in shadow, and said, "I'm going to fetch another. Would you like to join me?"

A cue. A blatant cue, like asking a dog to fetch. That was how he saw Sherlock; as a loyal creature at his beck and call. Let him think that. It would put his guard down, if he thought Sherlock was besotted.

(Maybe there was a part of him that liked being thought of like that, as something to be manipulated.)

So, he smirked back and said, "Naturally."

Then, he followed William from the box, and caught John's raised eyebrows as he did. He gave him a wink.

The hallway of the theatre was quiet, all noise from the stage muffled. The lights seemed brighter after the gloom. It was like waking up.

William was at his side, arms folded.

"Moggies are cats with no breeding," he said, still aloof. "So I don't think that’s a fitting pet name."

"Really?" Sherlock kept his eyes on the staircase at the end of the corridor. "Because there are times, Liam, when it sounds as though you're as cockney as I am."

That was true – ish. It was only a very slight hint, and only when he had been drinking. Only when he had been drinking around Sherlock.

"You're imagining things."

"I don't imagine anything. I know things. I thought I had proved that."

He'd proved that William felt the same way he did. Felt this - attraction.

A beat. "I had been drinking."

"Oh, is that the excuse you'd like to go for?" And Sherlock felt just a twinge of anger rise in him, at that. He took hold of William's arm, to get him to stop. And he did, though he didn't look around. "It happened, Liam. Are you going to acknowledge it?”

"I'd rather," William took a breath. "Keep doing what we were doing in there."

That was a no.

The hallway was empty enough that Sherlock felt confident clarifying, "Flirting?" He stepped closer, that twinge of anger rising, and he hated how it was obviously written on his face, because William looked satisfied at it. "And then fucking, and then leaving it at that until we happen to bump into each other again?"

That was, unless William was going to point a gun at him, first.

William looked up at him. "That's how arrangements like this normally work, Mr Holmes."

It cut deeper than it should. He let his hand drop, even though his feet were moving forward, so that William stepped backwards. Lightly as a cat.

"Is that it?" he asked. Stepped forward. "This is just an - arrangement?"

It was the fear of not feeling the same way as someone else, and it was a terrible, all-consuming fear.

William's back was against the wall. "What else can it be?"

There was just a hint of melancholy, there, despite how impassive his expression was. As though he couldn't let himself get too close to Sherlock. Even so, he reached out, wrapping his finger around a strand of Sherlock's dark hair. Stared at it.

"It could be –" A relationship. The word didn't fall from Sherlock's mouth. He could say love - or war - just as William had already said. But he was at a loss, an arm on the wall next to William's face, as he kept playing with Sherlock's hair. He found himself leaning into the touch.

"Do you really think so much of me after so few meetings?" William kept curling that hair around his finger.

It sounded more like a grunt, than a sound of affirmation. Sherlock tried for something more - "You clearly think so much of me."

"How so?"

"You didn't have to talk to me tonight. Didn't have to invite me to your box. Didn't have to send me all of those 'come hither' glances–"

"There were no 'come hither' glances." William almost scoffed. Let Sherlock's hair fall.

"I don't imagine things, kitty."

A raised eyebrow. A tilt of his chin, so that his hair fell across it. "Kitty?"

"You said moggy was no good." Sherlock put his other hand on the wall, the other side of William's head. "You chose to see me, tonight. Chose to let me into your Durham mansion. Chose to sample my violin skills."

"You chose to sit with me," William replied. Poked him in the chest. Pedantic like a child. "Chose to follow me out here. You chose to come to my house in Durham and everything after."

"We're just as bad as each other, then." Just as attracted to each other - both mentally and physically.

"Perhaps." He twisted Sherlock's tie in his fingers, again. Tugged it just enough so that he could feel the pressure. "These violent delights have violent ends."

Sherlock drew closer, resting his elbows on the wall, instead. He could smell William's Eau de Cologne, this close. "Pretty words."

He looked disappointed at that. "You don't know the quote."

"Should I?"

William tugged his tie again. "It's only Shakespeare. Romeo and Juliet."

"Ah, see-" Sherlock leant closer, so that their faces were inches apart. It was like a magnet, drawing him in. "That's never helped me solve a case, so why should I memorize those pretty words?"

"To make me happy."

A final – harder - tug. He was pulled forward, and his mouth met William's. It felt like before - hot and exhilarating. Made his heart race. It was like staring down the barrel of a gun. Like having his finger on the trigger.

William's hand moved to bury itself in his hair, pulling him even closer. Yet he tugged on the tie again; hard enough to leave Sherlock breathless.

He sought William's tongue with his own. Hungrily.

"And in their triumphs die," William murmured, pulling away only slightly, so that their lips still brushed as he talked. "Like fire and powder. Which, as they kiss, consume."

"Does that mean we're continuing this–" Relationship.

"It's not a good idea."

Why is that, Sherlock wanted to ask. Why was it that wherever this web of higher crime was, William Moriarty was too? He'd tried to dodge the question on the train, but Sherlock had such a suspicion -

He couldn't start that argument. Not now.

"Then why are you still kissing me?" And he pressed his leg between William's - suspected he knew the answer just from the shape, and from the hitch in William's breath. His chest burnt.

William just shook his head, kissing along Sherlock's jaw. He could feel the scrape of teeth. So he pushed his leg higher, and felt the moan it created against his neck.

"It wouldn't be a good idea, as you call it, to deal with that here," he murmured into William's ear. And kissed the hollow of his jaw.

It was the closest he could get to kissing his cheek. That felt like too sweet and too innocent an action for this. It felt like something doting lovers did.

Sherlock was not doting.

"Where do you suggest?" William replied. "The box or the bar?"

"I'm sure your brothers would enjoy that." Sherlock sought the hand from his tie, though it felt like a childish motion.

William let him, though. Laced their fingers together as he tugged him down the corridor. Like teenagers would.

"Don't you have an investigation to be getting on with?" William asked.

Sherlock half-turned. "Oh, I’ve already solved that. Without giving too many sensitive details away, it has to do with a forged autograph and a mannequin."

"A mannequin?" There was a smirk in William's voice.

Sherlock was counting the boxes. He knew there was one -

"Dressed as a thief, and set up at the other entrances. Moved around as the actors were rushing to fetch the peelers. In the chaos, no one would notice if one of those actors moved that mannequin."

"The thief is one of the actors?" William's thumb dragged across Sherlock's skin.

"Obviously. Here -" He tugged them both into another box, nearer the back of the theatre. Unless the folks in the next box over leant over, and looked away from the stage lights, they wouldn't be seen. The heavy curtains framing the box, mostly as decoration, helped too.

Sherlock twitched them even further, as far as they could go.

William slipped his arms around his waist, from behind, kissing Sherlock's neck. He tugged him back into the shadows – away from any stage light.

"Tell me more." His voice was a purr, and Sherlock felt it in his gut.

He leant back, against him, sighing. "I can think of other things to do with my mouth."

A chuckle, then, at that. And teeth grazed his jaw. William's hand moved down, from his waist, to the front of his trousers. "I like the sound of that, pooch."

He made a sound of dissatisfaction in the back of his throat. "That's here to stay?"

"Does it annoy you?"

"It's not preferable." He reached behind him, to bury his fingers in William's hair. It was like silk.

"Then it's definitely here to stay."

Sherlock turned, then, a growl in the back of his throat. It only made William chuckle, brushing curls from Sherlock's face.

"What did you have in mind for your mouth to do?" William's voice was low. They stood in the shade of the curtains - practically invisible, and yet nonetheless they were in a theatre.

People clapped the scene onstage.

This was stupidly risky. Yet, the very fact that it was so stupidly risky made Sherlock giddy. As though he’d drunk through a whole bottle instead of a measure.

Sherlock lowered himself, as gracefully as he could, to his knees, letting his fingers run down William's waistcoat. Tightly fitted.

He rested those fingers on his belt buckle, smirking up at him. That hardness from the box - from the hallway - had yet to fade.

"You've sampled my violin, but I'm not bad at flute, either," he murmured.

William took a breath, his eyes dark, just glittering in what little light reached them. Then smiled. "Play away."

Sherlock's fingers were light, as they teased open the front of William's trousers.

His hand had found its way into Sherlock's hair again, and he felt it being tugged as he got to work – and that helped – that made his stomach leap and his heart judder into action. He went lightly, at first, so that his lips and tongue barely grazed over skin.

William's breath came as breathy gasps, far above him. He moved forward, opening his mouth more and moving quicker. And quicker. His heart raced, and his own instrument throbbed. This was just like before - this mind-swirling - attraction. Maybe it was love. Maybe it was lust. It didn't matter - it was intoxicating, and Sherlock wanted this. Wanted William.

"Don't make a mess," William whispered, leaning into him.

He looked up, mouth half-open, to catch a glimpse of flushed cheeks and shining eyes that made him feel like he was on fire.

"Yes, Lord Moriarty," he replied.

And felt a sharper tug in his hair to show how that name was received - to show that William was close. More than close.

Sherlock was as good as his word. Let himself take just a little liberty in making sure he'd cleaned up completely - William's breath juddered at that. His own breath was heavy. He pushed his hair from his face, lips numb.

Hands on his elbows, helping him up to his feet. He was face to face with William, inches from him. His thumb ran over Sherlock's lips - they were swollen - before he kissed him again.

Something silky was pressed into his hand. A handkerchief.

"So you don't make a mess."

There was clapping from the theatre. There was nothing much of the show left, Sherlock knew.

"That's cold, Liam," he managed.

William pushed him against the side of the box, so that he was half buried in velvet curtains.

"So you don't make a mess after I'm done with you," he clarified, his voice low, his hand even lower. Sherlock's hip bucked into the touch. Found William's lapels and clung on.

Because he felt helpless. Helpless to this touch and helpless to what his body wanted.

Helpless for William.

And that was not a good thing. He knew it was not a good thing, not if his suspicions were accurate. This was the one person he could not be helpless around - could not let his strings be tugged by.

Because even if he wasn't the mastermind, he was - very nearly - as sharp as Sherlock. Which was just as dangerous.

The handkerchief kept it tidy, as the clapping broke out again. The timing was almost laughable – if he had the breath to do so. It felt as though he’d been in a bonfire.

William smiled at him in the ghostly half-light of the gas lamps. Red eyes and blonde hair and he looked like a fallen angel. Was so beautiful with flushed cheeks and crimson lips.

He leant forward, and it seemed as though he was going to kiss Sherlock again.

Instead, he whispered, mouth just grazing his, "I can't guarantee going steady. But you're not – just an arrangement."

"Flattering." He was still fighting for breath. "Liam, you must know how-" How he felt. It must have been obvious.

William pressed fingers to Sherlock's lips.

"Then you know the same about me."

His heart stuttered.

It didn’t take a lot of mindpower to figure William’s meaning. Which was good, because Sherlock felt short-circuited.

John looked relieved to see Sherlock re-enter the box. He was saved from socialising with these intimidating young men. Men he probably had nothing in common with, given he’d spent his youth in the army, and his lack of birth-money.

Then he seemed to take in the mess that is tie was, the crumpled shirt and the fact that his hair was barely tied back anymore. He raised his eyebrows.

Sherlock took a seat, next to William, and smiled at him. Innocently, as though they really had just been for a drink.

Which made John tilt his head to the side, eyebrow going up even higher.

He broke into a grin. Rubbed the back of his neck in an attempt at sheepishness. And shrugged. Pushed his hair away from his face. It stung at the roots, where it had been tugged, like a phantom William still there.

All was fair, William had said. If this was a war, Sherlock felt like he'd lost the battle. For once, it didn't niggle at him quite as much as it should.

Albert looked up, his chin resting on his hand. He smiled. "You were a while.”

William – who barely had a hair out of place, despite it all, smiled back. That ‘there’s a secret,’ smile that Sherlock was obsessed with. He had to flop back down into his chair.

“Mr Holmes had a case to solve,” William said, easing into his own. His shoe was pressed against Sherlock’s. A reminder of what he had said. “He asked my advice.”

John's eyebrows were in danger of disappearing altogether. He stared at Sherlock, as though he expected him to refute it.

Sherlock just laughed. He leant back, putting an elbow on the arm of the chair so that it nudged William’s back.

“Something like that.”

#yuukoku no moriarty #william moriarty #Sherlock Holmes #fanfiction #sherliam #william x sherlock #moriarty x holmes #turnupswrites

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redskull199987 · 2 years

Text

Homecoming

William James Moriarty x female!reader

Word count:1.2k

Warnings: MtP Manga spoilers(Vol 15 or 16 or sth), basically just pure fluff

Summary: After three years of grieving, you finally allow yourself to move on, when something happens that you didn't expect...

Masterlist

Three years. It had been three years, since it happened. And you had moved on, at least that's what you told yourself.

Together with Louis and the rest of the family, you had comitted yourselfs to the MI6. You found something to fullfill your purpose, to atone for your sins. To make it worth, all of what you did, what William did.

Well, everyone of you, except for your stubborn brother; Sebastian Moran.

He had also been gone for three years. You searched for him for a long while. You did everything you possibly could, to find him. But it was like he had vanished. But no matter what you did, you just couldn't find him. And it broke your heart. Not even William wouldn't want Sebastian to do this to himself. William sacrificed himself, so that you could live, so that you could carry on his legacy.

And that's what you intended to do.

So, after a long and dreadfully search, you finally found him. Your brother. And after an even longer heart to heart with him, you convinced him to come back. Back to your family. Back to your home.

"What are you thinking about?"

It was Sebastian who pulled you out of your thoughts, almost like destiny had intended it, since he was exactly what you were thinking about. About his return. And you couldn't stop yourself to think about, if your brother returned... What if William could return too? What if he just waltzed into the Manor with his stupid big grin and his cane in hand?

"You", you finally mumbled,"And Will"

"You still miss him?", he asked carefully and sat down next to you. He knew that the topic of your beloved was still delicate to talk about.

"Always", you said and slowly sipped your tea,"And I always will"

You watched as Sebastian thought about what he was going to say, but instead he just pulled you in for a hug. You tried to resist it for a second, not giving him the satisfaction of being soft to him, but after a few seconds, you crumbled.

You pressed him against yourself tightly. You knew that he didn't hug people often, only when he was being serious. And he was rarely being serious. And you cherished every single second of it, until you finally pulled apart.

"Thank you", you whispered and wiped away a few stray tears,"I'm glad to have you back, Seb"

He only smiled at you,"I'm glad to be back, little sister"

"Guys!?", it was Ms. Moneypenny. She was standing in the doorway, peering inside your room:"You should better come"

You looked at her perplexed, but she only smiled before dissapearing around the corner.

Your gaze fell onto your brother but he didn't seem to know what she was on to either. He only shrugged and got up to follow her. You quickly put your teacup down and followed the two of them through the corridors towards the main entrace.

You couldn't believe what you saw there. You almost believed that you were dreaming.

Right there, at the entrace door, stood all three Moriarty brothers hugging each other in a tight embrace.

You stopped, frozen in track. You leaned yourself against the stairwell, afraid you might faint at the sight in front of you. You felt your breath go slightly heavier and you couldn't prevent the small tears slipping down your cheeks.

Could it be? Could it really be him? As you took a closer look, you also spotted Sherlock standing next to the three brothers. His hair had gotten much longer and he wore a smug grin on his face.

As he spotted you, his face slumbed. He slowly turned to William and nudged him with his elbow. William pulled out of the embrace with his brothers and turned around to look at Sherlock. He only nodded into your direction. William turned around and his eyes met yours. The first thing you noticed, was the bandage over his left eye. You sucked in a sharp breath as you realized that it must have happened when he fell from the Tower Bridge.

"Y/N",he only smiled.

You felt fully fledged tears fall down your face now, as you slowly walked downstairs, towards him. You never even thought that you would hear his voice again. Hear him say your name again.

"William", you mumbled quietly, as you were now standing right in front of him. The air felt like it was on fire. You couldn't prevent your hands from shaking. William seemed to notice, as he leaned forward and carefully put his hands on top of yours.

He gently pulled you into his embrace and you let him. You could feel how his arms wrapped around your body. You tentively put your hands on his chest, taking ahold of his suit. Your eyes fluttered shut as you took in his scent. You were immensely scared that if you opened your eyes, he would just disappear, that it was all a dream and that you would lose him again.

"Y/N"

Your eyes shot open and you quickly looked up. Will was smiling down at you, his arms still tightly wrapped around your waist.

"I missed you", he whispered. He raised his hand to softly grasp your cheek,"My beautiful Y/N, I missed you so much"

He leaned forward, leaninghis forehead against yours, closing his eyes.

"I missed you too, Will", you smiled,"I missed you too"

"I never knew you were this good at chopping", you chuckled, as you entered the kitchen, various bouquets in your arms. William, who had just finished cutting the carrots, turned around smiling:"If you don't say, Love"

You giggled and put the roses, that you had been carrying inside, down on the counter, before walking over to William and greeting him properly.

"Did Fred grow these?", William asked, as he lazily pulled you into his arms by your waist. You followed his gaze and realized that he meant the flowers.

You nodded and leaned your head against his shoulder:"He's as passionate as ever about his roses"

"They are just as I remember them", Will smiled and looked back down at you. A smile appeared on your face, before you cupped his cheek and pulled him in for a tender kiss. You felt William smile against your lips, as his grip on your waist tightened. His back suddenly hit the counter, startling the two of you. You giggled, hiding your face in his chest, while a soft Chuckle escaped his lips.

You gazed at him for a second. A lovestruck expression on your face. You took in his features. His sharp jawline and his long golden locks. The soft grin on his face, the bandage over his left eye and the other one almost glowing with glee. The intense red orb, that you suddenly noticed was staring at you.

"Do you like what you're seeing?", He mumbled playfully.

"I do", you nodded.

William chuckled and quickly grabbed your hand. He pulled you out of the kitchen

"Since we're all finished here, why don't we take a break together?", William chided. You chuckled and nodded, as he swiftly pulled you through the corridors, almost dancing around. He opened the door to your, now again, shared room. You followed him inside and as he closed the door, you let yourself fall down on the huge bed. For three years, you had despised that bed. It always felt so empty, so big without him.

You suddenly felt the bed dip, as William slowly crawled on top of you. You could only giggle at him, as he rested his hands next to your face. He leaned down, connecting your lips in a short kiss. You quickly pulled away and gently carressed his face. His skin felt as soft as ever and you watched him close his eyes, as he leaned into your touch.

"I...I want to thank you William. For returning, for choosing us...choosing me", you muttered under your breath, as he opened his eyes again. A smile appeared on his face.

"I would always choose you", He whipered and softly pressed his lips to yours again.

"I love you", you murmured. The first time since his return.

"I love you", he repeated, without hesitation.

"Oi, Lovebirds, we need your help!"

Your little moment was interrupted, as you looked up from your place in the bed and saw your brother standing in the doorway. He had a shiteating grin on his face, as he winked at you, before quickly making his way downstairs again.

"Your brother didn't change at all", Will smiled, as he got up.

"Not one bit", you agreed, as he held out his hand for you to help you get back up. He elegantly pulled you to your feet.

"And I hope he never does", you added quietly.

"I hope so too", William smiled. He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your cheek, before reluctantly following Sebastian back downstairs.

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baggedbloodandmilk · 1 year

Note

Hello there, I have a small question, Do you write for gender neutral and male readers?

Right, I don’t think I specified this

I can write for gender neutral readers, but I can’t write suggestive topics on that side since I’m stupid and don’t know how to word it

For male readers, I don’t actually write for them because I’m a dumbass and don’t know how to write it

(I’ll learn how to write both of them properly soon enough, don’t worry)

So, to answer your question, yes I write for gender neutral readers, and no I don’t write for male readers (yet)

#ao3feed #fanfic #quotev #wattpad #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #albert james moriarty #louis james moriarty #sherlock holmes #yuukoku no moriarty #x reader #reader insert #gender neutral reader #female reader #oneshot #headcanon #request #send requests #scenarios

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moriartyluver · 1 year

Note

Hello love! I was wondering if I can request angst with comfort/fluff where William’s wife who comes from a noble family and is really confident, (if you’ve watched Modern Family than basically the same personality as Gloria) but one day William and her meet a working class, down to earth, nerdy woman and William finds the woman interesting and doesn’t realize the woman is into him and his wife is just panicking on the inside because she’s worried he’s gonna find the woman more interesting than her and than for the next few weeks the woman visits the manor to talk to William and for those weeks William notices how his wife is really emotionally and physically distant and just seems really upset but she refuses to tell him why because of her high ego (comfort/fluff ending though please!<3)

A/N: I listened to “the other woman” by Lana Del Rey while listening to this 😭. Honestly the reader is so me because my ego is so big that I can’t communicate my feelings lol. Thank you for your request, anon! I’ve decided to name the other lady “Agatha” so I’m sorry if I’ve offended anyone by using that but it’s the only one I could really think of

Characters: William James Moriarty x fem! reader

Prompt: (too lazy to write it out) above^^

Format: oneshot

Genre: angst to fluff

Warnings: reader is female, reader is William’s wife, established relationships, mentions of cheating/adultery, mentions of divorce, reader is a bit of a bitch lol, reader has a big ego, kinda longer than usual, reader has William’s last name , mentions of being punished by God, the other woman is really annoying, some characters are a bit OOC. NOT PROOFREAD SO THERE MAY BE SOME GRAMMATICAL AND SPELLING MISTAKES

When William first met you, you were half expecting him to hate your guts. You knew that he had strong views of equality between classes, genders, races etc. so it was u likely that out of all the people he could love, it would be you.

Your parents raised you to be the best of the best. They would constantly be praising you for your intelligence, which they managed to even get you into university to enhance, your looks, which were praised by all the people you would meet, your personality, your humour, your kindness (despite feeling like you were the most unkind person in the world sometimes) and of course, your strong and independent personality.

Nobody would ever dare to talk down to you because you were a woman, and if they did, they wouldn’t even attempt to again because of how much they feared you.

Evidently, all the praise and achievements you received while you grew up did make you a bit…self centred and somewhat egotistical. It wasn’t like you would go out of your way to tell people “hey I think I’m better than you and you suck so you should just go die!” But instead you always tried your best to be a kind and loving person, despite your sometimes overly confident personality.

When you and William had gotten engaged, which was a surprise to some but others described you to be a power couple, you felt something in your heart soften. You were still equally confident, but there was just something about that beautiful man that calmed your souls so much.

You also were involved in the works of the “Lord of crime” and most of the team admired your strategic thinking and often thought of you as the second in command to William. You would sometimes get into petty arguments with Sebastian and Fred and Louis were a bit scared of you but they all loved you all the same.

So when another woman came into the picture, it didn’t take long for your friends to realise that something was terribly wrong.

You and William ended up meeting a woman who requested your services but strangely enough, she hadn’t asked you to kill anyone. She had only asked for an opportunity to study at Durham University, where William would teach mathematics and you would often visit, the rest of the staff knew you well, and accompany him.

Something about the woman, who you now knew as “Agatha” irritated you. Perhaps it was the way she spoke so much but in such an annoying voice where she prolonged the bed of her sentences.

You noticed that she barely said a word to you but she did think it was appropriate for her to keeping talking about mathematical nonsense, which you understood but you couldn’t help but find that she would keep using incorrect terms or mispronouncing them so frequently.

It was obvious that she was working class and that didn’t seem to annoy you that much but her subtle jabs at noble women, (which you understood, could be very annoying as you had to surround yourself with them almost your entire life) felt ever so slightly targeted at you.

Neither William or Agatha could tell you were rolling you eyes at the latter or muttering something under your breath, and eventually you just got so tired of it all that you lied that you were feeling incredibly ill so you and William could leave earlier.

It didn’t take a genius to realise that William was certainly interested in the woman and you feared it was the same way he was interested in you, or even worse, he was more interested in her than in you.

You were so used to people telling you how truly marvellous you were your entire life but for some reason, you now felt terribly insecure. It was as if that woman had something that you did not. She was fairly down to earth and that was something you struggled with. Sure you could be empathetic but with your confidence, it was difficult to act like she did.

The following weeks, Agatha had the nerve to come by the Moriarty manor and attempt to talk to William. You knew she only wanted to talk to your husband because whenever you would open the door with a glare and then a fake smile shortly after, she would begin stuttering, something that had always been unfamiliar to you as you were great when speaking to others even a large audience, and then turn away when she found out that william wasn’t home. It would often go like this:

Knock knock, The door went.

‘It’s her again, isn’t it? That’s the third time this week..’ you would sigh as you walked to the door. You knew if Louis or anyone else would come to the door, they would invite Agatha to sit down and just wait for william while they let her have some tea. The door swung open and indeed, there she was in all her messy glory.

Your eyes would narrow and turn into a cold glare. It would stay that way for a few seconds while a shiver ran down her spine. You really could be as terrifying as people described “Hello there, Adelaide!” Your cold gaze shifted to a soft smile.

Strangely enough, Adelaide was a name more common in noble women than in working class women. This wasn’t intentional, you just couldn’t remember her as anything but ‘the husband stealer’

“A-Ah, hello there Lady (last name)!” That would just annoy you more.

“Please do not use my maiden name. You may refer to me as Lady (name) Moriarty.” You would tell her with a terrifying smile. “Are you looking for my husband ;Lord Moriarty?”

“I- uh, yes! Is Wi- I mean Lord Moriarty, at home?” Was she seriously calling him by his first name?

“He’s out at the university. I was just going to drop his lunch off for him, he seemed to have forgotten it. If you would like to pass something on, I wouldn’t mind taking a note of anything.” You gestured to the lunchbox in your hand

“N-No-I’ll come by another time! Good bye Lady Moriarty..!!” And then she would run off.

This kept going on for weeks and you reloaded that you were starting to avoid going out, in fear she may meet up with your husband behind your back. You were equally as capable of getting her into Durham university as William was yet she never felt the need to tell you anything.

She was sooo into him and William couldn’t even notice. Or maybe he did? Maybe while you were gone, they would have secret meetings in your absence and she would be flirting with him the entire time and maybe even try to-

Even now, you knew you were being paranoid. William wasn’t one to commit adultery. You knew this, and yet you couldn’t help but stand outside the office door while she and William would converse, just to make sure nothing bad happened. You would never allow the door to be locked in case she would try something.

Sometimes Louis would witness you pressing your ear to the door as he would come to deliver tea to the two. He wasn’t one that was experienced in the world of love, but he could tell you were definitely feeling jealous. Everyone in the manor could feel it.

Albert would joke about you following Agatha to see if she was married to anyone, just so you could alert a potential husband that she was probably intending on divorcing him, (alas, that woman was obviously not even courting anyone.) and Moran would make a few jokes about your obvious jealously.

They would all tell you that you were being paranoid and there wasn’t anything to worry about, but you just couldn’t help but feel sick whenever you came home to see that woman was talking to William in the lounge, on the seat you would sit at.

Eventually you just gave up. You, (name) (last name) Moriarty, had given up.

You couldn’t handle the subtle dirty looks she would give you when you entered the room, or the jokes about you that you would overhear her tell her friends and she was starting to become more bold with her affection to William.

If you were really to lose your beloved husband to that woman, the least you could do for yourself was desensitise yourself to a divorce. You wouldn’t talk to William during this time and if you did, it would just be essential things, such as “a letter came for you today” or “Agatha passed on a message”

At night , you would either completely turn your back to William and shake off his hands from your waist while you lay in bed, or sometimes you would just choose to stay with a friend or your parents, who became terribly worried for your well-being, for the night.

At dinner, you would request that food would be brought to your room (you would tell Louis you were busy and just working on a plan but he wouldn’t buy it for a second. Still, he felt as though he couldn’t say anything because you had chosen to become distant with the others as well as your husband) or you wouldn’t eat at all.

Whenever William would try to talk to you, you gave him short responses and he noticed you didn’t even refer to him with nicknames or anything of the sort. Just his full name.

The manor had become increasingly quiet as you grew more distant. There were no longer arguments between you and Moran and the little giggles as you gossiped with James or you spitting fun facts about flowers with Fred. It felt as if you had died.

That’s when it finally clicked in William. You were upset and he had no idea why.

Communication had always been a slight issue in your marriage. Both you and Liam felt like you couldn’t convey your feelings with one another out of the fear you may be seen as week. You had an incredibly large ego when it came to other people’s perceptions of you and William didn’t like worrying others with his woes.

So when William tried to ask you what was wrong, over and over again, you wouldn’t say anything. You’d only give him a blank stare and internally start yelling at him. How could he not notice why you were upset?! It was obvious that that woman had taken him away from you!

William felt as though he was being punished for something terrible by God himself. He would wake up and feel the warmth of your body had disappeared from beside him. He would eat dinner without the sound of your voice talking to him about whatever seems to interest you that evening. He would go to balls and parties just to notice you didn’t even turn up.

His own mother and father in law couldn’t tell him what was wrong. They had gotten the impression that he had left their own wonderful daughter for some average working class lady and your father would refuse to talk to him while your mother would only look at him somewhat sympathetically but wouldn’t tell him a thing either.

Now noticing that you were starting to leave his life, Agatha had started to turn up at the manor more often and for longer periods of time too.

The others noticed this. She wouldn’t get warm greetings from Moran and James or be gifted a flower occasionally by Fred. Even Louis wouldn’t take the nicest tea up for the two of them anymore and it was quite obvious that the other were disappointed with William for not recognising the problem despite being a genius and had all grown to dislike Agatha more than you did. You told them all personally to not bother being unkind towards William because of this (not like they were planning on it) so they didn’t even tell William anything either out of fear they may start getting upset with him.

William was almost entirely clueless until one day came the time that Agatha would visit for the last time.

They had both been sat in William’s office, talking about various academic subjects while drinking tea. William didn’t feel as happy talking to the girl with the mental torture of not having you around anymore, so he felt a little less enthusiastic than usual. Agatha continued talking to William, getting more affectionate with him until eventually, she decided to tell him how she felt.

“Will,” She said “I think I have feelings for you, I have for a long time…it’s just I never had the opportunity to tell you with your wife being around all the time. Now that’s she’s gone-“

That’s when it finally hit him. You were upset with him because you thought that there was something going on between both him and Agatha, even though she was at least 5 years younger that him and not as nearly as perfect as you were.

“I apologise, Miss Jones, but I don’t feel the same way,” Agatha was stunned. How could he not have felt the same way when his wife was finally out of the picture? “And please do not talk about Lady Moriarty like that. I’m asking you to leave as soon as you can.”

She picked up her things and left for good. As she stormed out with a few tears welling up in her eyes and slamming the door, the Moriarty Manor was finally at rest. A couple of smiles threatened to form on both Moran’s and Bonde’s faces while Louis sighed a sigh of relief.

If it were possible to feel more guilty than he already did, then that is how William felt at that moment. How could he not have noticed? How could he have been so foolish? Of course you didn’t want to talk to him, he couldn’t blame you in the slightest.

You were barely ever around anymore, usually at a friends house or your parent’s. You had even been planning on leaving to stay with your parents for good that night but had to come back and pack your things. You had arrived to do so just as Agatha was leaving, and noticed the tears in her eyes while she glared at you in annoyance. What on earth had occurred here?

When you opened the door, everyone greeted you with a smile while you stood in confusion. Were they trying to humiliate you further?

You tried to brush it off and went to your bedroom to go and get all your remaining things before leaving for good. You eventually came across a photograph that had been taken at your wedding with William. He was looking at you so lovingly and you seemed so happy to be marrying a man like him. That’s when the tears just started flowing and they continued to flow until you were interrupted by the sound of the door opening.

“(Name)?”

You turned your head to face the entrance to your shared bedroom. There stood the tall blonde man from the photograph.

“William?”

He couldn’t hold back anymore. He knelt down and cupped your cheeks in his hands then pressed his lips against yours in a heated kiss. Just when you thought things couldn’t get more confusing.

His tears mixed with yours as you kissed him back, unaware of what sparked his affection but melting into it anyways. After a few seconds or so, you pulled away, so much more confused than when you entered the place you once called home.

“I understand if you never forgive me, my love, but I’m terribly sorry for how I’ve been treating you as of late,” he told you as you opened your mouth to speak “I promise you, nothing had ever gone on between her and I. I’ve only ever had feelings for you-“

He was interrupted by you kissing him once more then pulling away with a melancholy smile.

“I believe you, darling,” you said “I think it was partially my fault for allowing my ego to stop me from informing you of my own worries.”

“So you won’t be leaving us then?” You chuckled at this. You certainly missed how needy and clingy he could be in the privacy of your own bedroom, and nobody would ever see just how affectionate he was. He held you in his arms, waiting for a response.

“I won’t be leaving you any time soon, pretty boy,” you kissed his pink cheeks “even if I were a ghost, I’d stay by you till the end of time.”

#moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty #william moriarty #william moriarty x reader #yuukoku no moriarty x reader #sherlock holmes #yuukoku no moriarty #yuumori x reader #moriarty the patriot x reader #mtp william #william james moriarty x reader

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fairy-writes · 2 years

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Hello! Could I pretty please have a Moriarty the Patriot story with Sebastian? Anything sweet and fluffy will do! 🥰🥰

*My pronouns are she/her, by the way. 😀

WRINKLED SHIRTS AND SUNLIGHT KISSES

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Requester: the-fangirl-diaries

Fandom: Moriarty the Patriot/Yuukoku no Moriarty

Pairing: Sebastian Moran x Gender Neutral!Short!Reader

Request: Hello! Could I pretty please have a Moriarty the Patriot story with Sebastian? Anything sweet and fluffy will do! 🥰🥰

Hello lovely! I’m so sorry this took so long! I tried to keep this gender neutral just so everyone is included :) I hope that’s alright!

This oneshot also takes place during chapter 32 of the Moriarty the Patriot manga or the second OVA of the anime.

__________________________________________________________________________

“Is that my shirt?”

You jumped and turned from the mirror where you were buttoning up what was indeed Moran’s shirt. He leaned in the doorway to the bathroom, one hand on his hip as he watched with a fond smile. His hair was rumpled, and his eyes were dark and tired from nightmares. But he looked happy to see you nonetheless.

Returning the smile, you finished buttoning the shirt up and approached him. The shirt was much too large for your short stature and hung to mid-thigh. He slung his arms low on your waist and pulled you close. You reached up and wrapped your hands around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his unruly black hair, pulled him down, and your lips met his.

He tasted like whiskey and sunlight. Like cigarettes and the soft wispy clouds that hung high in the sky. You loved these types of kisses, the sunlight and cloud kisses that painted your skin in hues of blues and reds to make a lilac sky. You pulled away as he nipped your bottom lip and grinned at his pout.

“We have things to be doing. You can kiss me more later.” He brightened but reluctantly pulled away.

“I’m holding you to that.” He said, leaning his forehead against yours briefly before kissing your nose and then going to get changed.

The Moriarty estate was alive with chatter as you bustled around the kitchen. The Moriarty’s were getting ready for a tea party, and you were in charge of the food as Louis was frantically helping get everything else prepared. Moran’s shirt was tucked into your trousers, and the shirt sleeves were rolled up to your elbows as you adjusted your apron.

Tarts, cakes, other pastries, scones, and every manner of desserts and finger sandwiches littered every inch of counter space in the kitchen as you flitted about like a bee looking for pollen.

You were placing the finishing touches on a strawberry shortcake when strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you back into a firm chest. You dropped the piping bag in surprise and turned to see Moran. He grinned and dropped a kiss to your cheek.

“What are you doing here? I thought you were supposed to be helping Fred with the flowers.” You asked, and he shrugged,

“I wanted to see my favorite busy bee.” He said before kissing you again. You had to wonder if he had a fixation on your mouth with how much he kissed you, but you weren’t necessarily complaining.

“Keep the PDA to your living quarters, please. We’ll be having guests soon, and you both need to get ready.” Then came an unfamiliar voice, and you jumped. Moran scowled as Louis came in and inspected the room. He nodded to you approvingly at the display of pastries, desserts, and sandwiches but still had a scowl on his face.

“Whatever, sourpuss,” Moran grumbled but let go nonetheless and headed off to his bedroom so he could wrangle his hair into submission and change.

You took up the piping bag again but stopped when Louis approached you, tying an apron of his own around his waist, so he didn’t get any flour or frosting on his nice suit.

“Allow me. The other preparations are done. We’re just waiting on Moran. Please go make sure he stays on track.” He said and adjusted his glasses. You handed him the piping bag and untied your apron, hanging it on the rack beside the door.

Moran was still grumbling as you knocked and entered his room. Dressed in a nice suit, he was in the bathroom, standing before the mirror and trying to comb his hair. It was going terribly, to say the least. He had a stubborn cowlick on the back of his head that refused to stay down. You crept up behind him and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, reaching for his comb.

“Let me help.” You said, and he relented, handing you the comb and sitting on the bench beside the sink. You stood in front of him and tilted his head slightly so you could get to the back of his head.

The cowlick and any other flyaway strands were quickly tamed and combed down, and soon, his hair was slicked back neatly and combed to the side in front. He looked handsome, but, if you had to admit it, you preferred him with his unruly hair. This was too… proper. Not brash and wild like Moran was.

As soon as you set the comb down, Moran was pulling you into his lap and wrapping his arms around your waist.

“Thanks. Love you.” He whispered, sending a shiver down your spine but you smiled at him and cupped his face, kissing his forehead gently.

“Love you too.”

#moriarty the patriot #sebastian moran #yuukoku no moriarty #ynm #ynm moran #moriarty the patriot moran #yuukoku no moriarty moran #moran x reader #moran #sebastian moran x reader #fairy writes

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educatedinyellow · 4 years

Text

Even more early Holmes illustrations

Allow me to resume my scattershot curation of early Holmesian art:

HARRY C. EDWARDS

An American artist who got in on the game fairly early (1894 - 1896) and drew almost thirty illustrations, my favorite of which are from “The Final Problem”:

This is Holmes, very down at the heels, having come to Watson’s surgery to tell him all the terrible things that have been happening; he’s asking him to come with him as he flees the country. I like the worn, weary posture Holmes has, and the long curls of smoke above them as Watson listens. There’s a quiet, trusting atmosphere to this moment.

A rather burly, tough-looking Moriarty comes to issue his refined threats to Holmes in 221B. I like the staging here, with Moriarty casting his long shadow on the floor between them.

Holmes waiting alone at the falls, knowing the end is coming soon.

And they’re going over the edge! A beautiful action shot of Holmes’s tragic end...or at least, what Watson believed his end to be. Well done, Mr. Edwards!

GEORGE HUTCHINSON

Mr. Hutchinson was born in Nova Scotia (Canada) and went off to sea as a cabin boy at the age of 14. Eventually training and working as an artist in London, he drew illustrations for a number of famous Victorian authors besides Doyle, including Rudyard Kipling and Robert Louis Stevenson. He only illustrated one Holmes novel, though he worked on several other Doyle projects, including The Stark Munro Letters. (Personal trivia: I happen to own the 1891 copy of A Study in Scarlet from which these illustrations are drawn! It’s so neat!). His illustrations were woven around the first word of every chapter, and the style is very reminiscent of comic books:

I like that, in our first introduction to Watson, he seems almost to be flying out of the page at us.

What a kindly face! I love Holmes scraping on his violin in his lap rather than at his shoulder, it’s unexpectedly folksy. Also, between Paget and Hutchinson I am now convinced that wicker chairs have been sadly underrepresented in the Holmesian fandom. Where are all my wicker chair fics???

A nice 221B moment, and I appreciate the way he creates depth by putting Holmes and Watson on opposite sides of the O.

Awwww, poor “rat-faced” Lestrade is looking rather charming :) The illustrator went in a nicer direction with this character than the author did, and I appreciate that.

Hurrah for you, Mr. Hutchinson!

JOSEF FRIEDRICH

A Czech illustrator who worked in Prague. He drew quite a lot of illustrations for the Holmes stories, but the majority of them were direct copies of Paget. However, occasionally he added an original composition to a story and I enjoy them:

Holmes and Watson catch sight of the baboon on the Roylott estate in “The Speckled Band”! I appreciate that he’s remembered the detail that the house is having ‘renovations’ done (as Roylott’s excuse to move Helen out of her normal room), so we have some scaffolding up. Watson reaching instinctively for Holmes’s shoulder is a nice touch :)

Violet Hunter reading in the window at the Copper Beeches.

I just love the smoke rings, okay? I am susceptible to simple pleasures.

ONESHOTS

Here are a few artists from whom I’ve chosen a single picture:

An illustration from “The Dancing Men” by Jacques Camoreyt. I enjoy the grad student look of this Sherlock, with his utterly chaotic workspace and frazzled expression. Plus, blond Holmeses are quite unusual (even though the name “Sherlock” does mean “fair-haired”)! A wonderful glimpse behind the scenes at Holmes’s frustration, this feels like the kind of moment that Watson often chooses to touch only lightly upon when presenting Holmes to the public -- it’s refreshing to see that the man can be a real mess while he’s mid-case. If you look closely you can see some of the dancing men scribbled on the page that’s tipping over the side of the table.

Paul Carey drew a number of good illustrations for Doyle’s non-Holmesian works, but “The Red-Headed League” was the only Holmes story he illustrated. Above, he has immortalized the moment when the shady Mr. Duncan Ross pulls on poor Jabez Wilson’s hair to prove it’s not a wig. That looks like quite a vigorous pull, yikes! Seriously, though, I love the energy in this drawing.

Percy Bell Hickling only illustrated one Holmes story, “The Bruce-Partington Plans.” I like the way he’s visualized this scene where Holmes and Watson interview Violet Westbury, the fiancee of the dead Cadogen West. One detail I had forgotten was that this scene takes place at the house of Mr. West’s bereaved mother, and all the details of furniture and decoration give us a real sense of this home. She is there in the background, too overcome to speak and in full mourning. Violet has clearly come there to support and care for her, and she looks so modern in comparison -- strong, pragmatic, and steady (perhaps that black tie she’s wearing is meant to be a discreet sign of mourning as well?) I’ve always liked Miss Westbury, who is honest even about details that seem damning but who steadfastly believes in the innocence of the person she loved, no matter how black the case against him. I enjoy seeing her portrayed with thoughtfulness and dignity.

Okay! I promise you all this series will eventually end, but I have enough for at least one more post, so stay tuned if you like :)

#acd holmes #an illustrated history #our ramble through holmesian art continues #long post

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beneathashadytree · 2 years

Note

Hii! I saw requests are open, I was wondering if you could write for Yuumori oneshot where (Y/N) is part of morigang and bonding with everyone especially after William's return? I'm craving for the found family comfort and I imagine (Y/N) helping Moneypenny with the housework now since everyone lives under the same roof and listen to Herder talking about his inventions (╥﹏╥) I'm not sure if there's character limit for requesting but if there is, just Louis, Fred, and Moneypenny(or William) would work fine. I'm sorry this came off too long, but if you decided to take in this request then thank you so much!💕

TO COME HOME - LOUIS MORIARTY, FRED PORLOCK, MONEYPENNY, AND WILLIAM MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : this is platonic and not romantic, this is once again not proofread, some mentions of knives, reader is gender-neutral!

Genre : domestic found family fluff <3

Word count : 1.3K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! I was a little confused as to how to format this, and decided in the end to stick to mini drabbles for each character! I added William as a bonus because I’m so soft for him🫠 I hope you enjoy this! 💗💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

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Masterlist

The house had been so empty for so long, despite having been quite full of people for the most part. But the absence of three people who’d poured their hearts and souls into it meant that everything was far less livelier without them.

But now that they’re back, Louis had once again slipped into his role, taking the reins and directing everyone to ensure that this would become a perfect evening. Watching him put a smile on their face and a warmth in their heart—one that still remained even as they pushed through the crowds.

“Let’s not get separated,” he’d gently nudged them, encouraging them to hook their arms with his, and though they knew that his reasoning was sound, they understood that he simply wanted them close.

Humming as a familiar feeling of happiness enveloped them at the thought of picking out ingredients to cook a feast that gathered them all at the table, they couldn’t help but grin widely as they saw Louis frowning at the produce, as though demanding the freshest to show itself.

“It’s good to see you worrying about making hearty meals again,” they spoke their thoughts out loud, and Louis looked up with a blank, slightly confused expression.

They leaned in, thumb reaching out to smoothen the crease between his eyebrows, before picking out the vegetables they needed in a bag, elaborating as they did, “You’ve had a lot on your shoulders without them there, and now it’s relieving to see you worry about more mundane things.”

A slightly embarrassed flush made its way on his face, though his no-nonesense manner remained as he looked down, pretending to busy himself with doing the same.

“It’s a force of habit,” he cleared his throat, before falling silent for a moment, a softer look crossing his eyes, and he glanced at them, “It feels more like home when there’s good food.”

“And good company,” they added, as they both paid for their picks, before entwining their arms once again, squeezing his fondly, as he nodded in agreement, a half-smile on his face.

“And good company.”

“Do you need any help, Fred?” they asked, poking their head from behind the door to watch as he brought in bags teeming with the ingredients he’d been tasked with buying.

He gave them a small smile, making his way over to the kitchen counter and setting the bags down carefully, “No, thank you.”

“It’s been a while since you last shopped for so many people. I bet you’re tired,” they kindly patted his back, ignoring what he’d said and rolling up their sleeves as they switched the faucet on, “Could you just dry the fruits after I wash them? That way we could get done with this quicker. Louis said he’d make an assortment of fruits pie.”

Giving up on trying to get things done on his own, his body visible relaxed, nodding along to their request and taking position beside them.

“This routine’s nice,” he softly admitted, his sweet smile warming their chest inside.

If there was anything they’d missed more than anything, it was the way Fred tended to smile to himself when his self-fulfillment demanded that he take care of others in his own small ways that always amount to something larger than could ever be expressed in words. With the house turned into a home once more, they knew they’d see more of that content expression.

“It is, isn’t it?” they chuckled, rinsing another apple and handing it to him to towel it off, before wrinkling their nose as the next think they picked up was a bag of fish, “I’d almost forgotten about William’s… odd… fascination with fish-containing desserts.”

Fred blinked, a look of mild horror on his face, realizing that Louis had specifically requested these for his older brother’s favorite stargazy pie.

“I don’t think I’ve missed that,” he mumbled under his breath, not-so-discreetly shoving the bag to the side, not even sparing it another glance—and they couldn’t help laughing at his rather endearing put-off expression.

“Would you be a darling and help me out over here?” Moneypenny’s voice came from behind them, and they turned to see her rolling up her sleeves and tying her hair back in preparation for a proper day of extensive washing, “I can’t reach the curtain rail without using a chair, and all of the sturdy ones have been taken out for the dinner party.”

“Sure thing, Penny,” they nodded as they made their way over, before getting down on their knees and hoisting her up with their hands respectfully settled on her calf and shin, “Should I lift you up higher?”

“A little, yes,” came her voice from above, a bashful blush dusting her cheeks, “Sorry to be a bother. I normally do this myself, you know, but given the current circumstances…”

“You could never be one,” they kindly replied, a mischievous smirk making its way onto their face soon after, “And now that Moran’s back, you could always bully him for his height into doing more chores around the house.”

After being set back down to the floor, Moneypenny let out a chuckle of her own, “He’s got years to make up for. I won’t be letting him off easily.”

“I can’t imagine you would,” they happily agreed, wordlessly beginning to help her pick off the pins from the curtains, turning their head for a second to listen to the horrified yelp coming from the kitchen, “I think he’s found Albert in the kitchen again.”

Moneypenny blanched at their words, “Oh no… I don’t think I’d be able to take another round of food poisoning. Best let Bonde take the reins.”

After they’d both finished their ends, they plopped the curtains down in the laundry basket. Looking up momentarily, they shared a knowing smile as the ruckus from the kitchen only grew louder.

“It feels like home again, doesn’t it?” she pensively said, tucking a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear.

They could only swallow thickly, fondness tugging at their heart strings at the familiarity of it all; the sense of completeness that washed over them.

“It does indeed.”

William heard the footsteps long before he felt their presence behind him. A faint smile made its way onto his face as he diced the carrots to his best abilities, pretending he hadn’t heard them.

“You’ve gotten better with a knife, William,” they commented, a slightly cheeky smile on their face as they peered at his handiwork, “Did it take you three years to perfect it?”

His crimson eye twinkled with amusement as he set the knife down, “Hardly. Two and a half, actually.”

They let out something between a laugh and a sob, and William felt his heart pound in his chest. He knew exactly what they were feeling; what everyone in the mansion was feeling at the moment—that sense of comfort and familial affection that they’d missed too much to ever be able to express.

Still, it surprised him to feel a pair of arms slink around his waist and tentatively hug him from behind. Startled, he was thankful that he’d had the common sense to set the knife down beforehand, because now his reflex was to stiffen momentarily. As their cheek pressed against his back, he relaxed, a soft smile making its way onto his face, as his vision blurred with unshed tears he tried his best to blink away.

“Welcome home, William,” their words came out muffled and wobbly against his shirt.

The blonde couldn’t help but affectionately pat their arms and squeeze them just a little tighter in response, his heart swelling in his chest ten times bigger. His family wasn’t made of 3 anymore, and he mattered to them so much more than he’d ever dared to allow himself to wish he did.

“I’m home,” came his reply rather belatedly, but the words that he’d been wanting to say for years had already been cast, and they settled over them like a well-loved, warm blanket.

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

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beneathashadytree · 2 years

Note

Hello! Could I request Louis Moriarty x male reader? Also could it be based on Love Story by Indila?

LOVE STORY - LOUIS MORIARTY X READER

Warnings : mentions of blood and death, reader is already dead, Louis is delusional with grief, this isn’t proofread, reader identifies as male!

Genre : angst (I’m not sorry hehe)

Word count : 0.8K words

Additional notes : Thank you so much for requesting! You happened to choose one of my favorite songs of all time (and one of the saddest ones too🫠). I’ve never written for a male reader before, so I’m glad you requested this because I’d like to have more diversity among my writing pieces. I honestly shed a few tears writing this, since the song’s pretty heartbreaking. Hope you enjoy this!💗

Requests : Are open! Check the rules over here.

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Masterlist

How many nights has he spent in this manner, in dreams so vivid he could reach out and touch them?

Louis didn’t know. It no longer mattered to him; he had long lost his sense of time, its perception lost on him as it dragged on mercilessly. It paid no heed to him as he stood with his spine rod-straight, tongue heavy in his mouth as melancholy eyes settled on the same spot, dull crimson unseeing of anything else.

Always trained on that photo; that picture of him that was the only thing that remained of him outside of his memories. A soft, intimate smile on a man’s face, and bright eyes brimming with love directed towards the photographer—the photographer who could now do nothing but wistfully sigh.

What was he waiting for? Louis didn’t know. Something inside him always tugged him towards that picture; always begged him to remain patient; always asked him to keep praying for his return. Pitying looks and claims of madness did nothing to deter him, for he knew that he was just as sane as they were. Even if he were to cling onto his memories forever, he should not—and would not—be shamed for believing in his beloved.

He always tuned out the entire world. Nothing mattered anymore but the man he’d held so tightly, loved so unconditionally, and protected so fiercely. Every single moment spent with him replayed itself in his mind as he regarded that photograph oh-so-fondly, a single delicate rose cradled between his thumb and index finger.

Louis’ lips would form the words before he could stop them. Are you happy? Are you safe? Do your eyes still shine the same way? Is your smile still as radiant? Do you miss me? Would I repulse you now?

And he waits and waits for an answer that would never come.

His dreams show him no mercy either. In his dreams, he’s still lying on a bed full of pink carnations, blonde hair mussed, glasses cast aside, and skin crinkling around his eyes as he laughed. His arms are full with the weight of his lover’s body ontop of his chest, and his heart is full with the adoration that seeps through its cracks. In his dreams, his hands are gently held and caressed, his scar kissed reverently, and his cheeks cradled lovingly. His crisp shirt is wrinkled as eager fingers tug at it, and lips find his fervently, devouring him whole.

Then, soft words creep up on him, whispering that they’d be alright. And—bathed in the sunshine that warmed their skin as it did their hearts—his darling would promise him that they would be entwined till the end of time.

And he would see this promise through; after all, Louis could never untangle the threads that coiled around his heart. But the terms of that vow never said that they’d both live to keep it. Now, he had to shoulder the burden of being hopelessly in love with someone that ceased to exist anywhere but his head—unable to rid himself of his devotion, and unable to move on.

His heart caved in on itself. He deemed himself incapable of loving ever again; a fact he knew to be true as he berated himself over and over again. Had he been a second faster, or a little wiser, or just a bit more powerful, he wouldn’t have been torturing himself every day with his thoughts. Regret swallowed him whole, leaving him as a mere shell; a shadow of the man he used to be.

His hunger for power had left him ironically powerless when it mattered, and he hadn’t been able to save the one person who eclipsed the whole of his sex. His lover had been targeted for being associated with him. He’d been too careless and not strong enough to protect him. And no matter how much gold he possessed now, or how much glory he earned, or how much power he wielded like a shield, he would never have enough to bring him back.

No trade would ever be enough for the greedy God that claimed what once was his; not even exchanging his very life with his would satisfy Him.

So he’d light the candles in the middle of the black night. They’d illuminate the picture of that smile he remained so enamored with, and he’d feed himself more lies to keep having faith in his sweetheart returning. He’d stain his hands with more blood, and pray that these calloused palms could carry his body once more.

A fool once, and king of the dead now. But no matter who he was, Louis would bring his beloved back and continue the script of their love story—or die trying.

Taglist: @sherlockscumslut @lilias-highlights @thispersoniscrazy @wifeofkyojuro

#imagine #oneshot #anime #angst #moriarty the patriot #mtp #yuukoku no moriarty #ynm #yuumori #louis moriarty #louis james moriarty #louis moriarty x reader #ynm louis #ynm louis moriarty #moriarty #moriarty x reader #mi6 #yuumori louis

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