crimeandadeerstalker

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Sherlock 2x3

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Continued from x || @lcstxsculx

“Gone? Gone where? What are you talking about, John?” Sherlock’s eyes fly wide open, fingers digging into John’s jumper as panic seized him. Ridiculous emotion. He didn’t have all the data. Didn’t know what John was on about, but he couldn’t fathom the idea that he might lose him. His best friend and…more than that. Much more.

His eyes were slightly unfocused as he attempted to remember any recent conversations. Had John mentioned going away somewhere? But sometimes his moods took him, or he became obsessed with a case or experiment, and everything else became background noise. Or was that it? Had he driven him away with his callousness? "Whatever is going on, I'm sure we can work through it," he tried to say with a confidence he didn't feel at the moment. Relationships were not his forte, and he had only been in one once before, a beautifully bright and sharp piece of music that began and ended far too quickly.

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"The first should suit my purposes just fine." That would be perfect for sneaking around Lord Blackwell's manor and getting the evidence he needed. Sherlock mainly relied on practical disguises, but Blackwell knew him. Knew a bit about his methods and did have a rather perceptive eye. Should the man lay eyes on him he had no doubt that he would recognize him immediately. Either the spell would tell those who saw him that there was nothing there, or they'd simply see a servant who--in the eyes of the rich--were invisible.

"Maybe next time, if your master is around, I would be able to get a demonstration of what more you can achieve." It would be nice if he could find a purveyor of the mystic arts who could offer more than potions that changed hair or eye color. "So, what shall be my payment for your services?" He asked as he pulled out a wallet and waited for whatever price the cat named.

He arched his back as he stretched under the human's touch and then sat up to watch him, blinking slowly at the question he had no desire to answer. No, he was most definitely not a normal familiar - unless they had a form that allowed them to speak aloud. Many did, depending on their time as a nature spirit and the power gathered then.

"A disguise that changes the perception of those around you, I can do with ease. A disguise that physically changes your body, would require the assistance of my master. What would your preference be?" He asked, licking one paw delicately as he hoped for the first option so he could take his own form of payment.

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Sherlock Holmes, BBC Sherlock (x)

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Both.

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Jim sees Sherlock on the dance floor and is reminded just how much in love he is with his idiot husband.

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[crimeandadeerstalker]

BBC Sherlock (2010 - 2017)

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@kingofthewebxxx

No, we're not soulmates. This is not divine intervention. And this is most certainly not chance. I willed this. I knit the threads of fate myself until they spelled your name.

I love you intentionally. I love you with every bit of conscience I was born with.

— marsadist (via twitter)

[crimeandadeerstalker]

@kingofthewebxxx

nothing turns me on more than knowing how much im turning you on

[crimeandadeerstalker]

❛ You have a morbid sense of fun. ❜ - Ella @curseoffrell

“Mm,” he hums in response, the corner of his lip curling up. He’s been looking over crime scene photos from one of the cold case files he dropped off to see if Sherlock could spot anything they may have missed, but then he blinked and looked up at Ella, “Ah, you didn’t mean that in a good sense, did you?”

[crimeandadeerstalker]

❛ You may not believe me now. You will. ❜ - Elliot @curseoffrell

Sighing, he glances up from his computer screen to the young man who was still standing before him. “And how, exactly, are you proposing that you are going to make me believe that you are, as you claim, cursed?” Magic wasn’t real. Curses weren’t real. He could order the young man, Edward or whatever, to do as he asked, but there would be no way to prove that he wasn’t just following them of his own free will. More than likely, he was mentally ill, not cursed. Though he supposed you could argue they were one and the same.

[crimeandadeerstalker]

“Come to daddy”

Sherlock kept Jim’s gaze as he walked over and then fell gracefully to his knees, placing his hands behind his back. “How would you like me, Daddy?” Asked with a playful smirk.

@kingofthewebxxx

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Disengaging, his muscles contracting from the electricity that courses suddenly through them, he throws himself away from the smaller man. His eyes are bright red, lips stained with Q’s blood, but the jolt has knocked him back to his senses. Blinking a few times, his eyes return to their normal blue colour. There’s confusion written on his face, but as his lips brush against the fangs in his mouth and eyes falling to the wound on Q’s neck, realisation crosses his features.

“Q—Q, I’m sorry,” he said, scrambling up to his feet. He wants to go to his friend, but he doesn’t trust himself, the smell of blood is in the air, and there is still a hunger eating away at him. So his feet stay firmly planted where they are. “Is there anything I can get you? Anything I can do?” The question ‘Are you okay’ gets stuck in his throat, because that was a stupid question to ask. Clearly he wasn’t okay, though he was certain he hadn’t taken enough blood to hurt him. His chest is tight, afraid he may have lost one of the few friends he truly had. “I’m so sorry Q, I couldn’t control myself.”

Q had been chatting back and forth with Marcus when he had been told to go and check on Sherlock; it was odd, since Mycroft usually left him to his own devices these days now he was good enough friends with Sherlock to see him every few days even without the prompting. The appearance of the consulting detective seemed to confirm why the older Holmes seemed to have sent Q here but... Surely, if he was really worried, Mycroft would have come himself?

Only the Quartermaster's fondness for Sherlock kept Marcus from going on the offensive when they were suddenly grabbed. The strength in the taller man's hands was not normal and Q felt his panic mingle with Marcus' anger as both of them reacted to the instinctual fear. "H-hungry for what?" He asked quietly, heart hammering away in his chest. "Sherlock... Sherlock, please let me go a-and I'll get someone to help, okay?"

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Feeling the fangs in his neck a low moan escapes from his lips, he arches his head back. “Take all you need, you have no idea how much I want you right now, I didn't realise it would want to make me fuck you so badly”

Sherlock smiled against his neck, one of his hands wander lower, giving his ass a firm but gentle squeeze. Humming in contentment, he pulls his fangs out, licking the blood from the puncture marks. “I think if I take anymore you won’t be able to do much of anything.” He has a healthy glow now, and his body is warmer than it had been moments before. “Tell me, how you want to fuck me, Jim,” he murmurs into his ear, nipping at the lobe. He pulls him flush against him so his Daddy can feel how hard his cock is right now. “What perverse things do you have planned for us tonight?”

[crimeandadeerstalker]

Hearing his heart beat quicken causes Sherlock to lose what little self-control he has left. A hand snakes its way into Q's hair, gripping it tight, yanking his head to the side as he buries his teeth into his neck. Warm blood fills his mouth and he groans. The taste is nothing like the iron tang that he’s used to, it’s sweet and rich and glorious.

He loses all sense of self as he gulps down mouthful after mouthful. The thought that he might be hurting his friend doesn’t cross his mind. All he cares about is sating his hunger.

Q had been chatting back and forth with Marcus when he had been told to go and check on Sherlock; it was odd, since Mycroft usually left him to his own devices these days now he was good enough friends with Sherlock to see him every few days even without the prompting. The appearance of the consulting detective seemed to confirm why the older Holmes seemed to have sent Q here but... Surely, if he was really worried, Mycroft would have come himself?

Only the Quartermaster's fondness for Sherlock kept Marcus from going on the offensive when they were suddenly grabbed. The strength in the taller man's hands was not normal and Q felt his panic mingle with Marcus' anger as both of them reacted to the instinctual fear. "H-hungry for what?" He asked quietly, heart hammering away in his chest. "Sherlock... Sherlock, please let me go a-and I'll get someone to help, okay?"

[crimeandadeerstalker]

“You have a sister, your brother was so determined to keep her hidden from you. I’ve had enough of her, trying to control me, control you, perhaps she got it from Mycroft. Look at me” *he takes his head harshly in his hands.

Hand’s flying up to grasp the criminal’s wrists when he painfully grabs his head. "Sister?" Gives Jim an I-don’t-know-what-you’re-talking-about-don’t-be-daft look. He didn’t know what game he was playing now, but he couldn’t imagine that he would forget another sibling, and why hide her from him? And it wasn’t just Mycroft that had hidden her, if that was the case, his parents would have too. There was nothing at their home to indicate they’d had another child. “Jim, I don’t have a sister, and I think I would remember if I did,” he scoffs. “Now let go, Jim dear, I don’t mind you leaving bruises , but I’d prefer you didn’t leave any on my face,” he said with a smirk.