#anthea fanfiction

[the-toad-in-your-piano]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Sherlock (TV) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Anthea & Mycroft Holmes Characters: Anthea (Sherlock), Mycroft Holmes Additional Tags: Character Study, Anthea-centric, Platonic Relationships, Pre-Canon, Caring Mycroft Holmes, Anthea (Sherlock) is the Best PA, Anthea (Sherlock)-centric, Anthea (Sherlock) Appreciation, Asexual Character, Aroace Anthea Summary:

That question did not carry disdain. It held no politeness, no obligatory social contract.

That question, that simple what would you like to be called? was none of those things.

It was a sign of respect.

[d011zk1ll]

GUYS GUYS GUSY GUYS GUYS GUYS I WROTE

I FINISHED THE FIRST CHAPTER TO THE FUTURE AU IM SO PROUD OF MYSELF

I ALSO HAVE THE NEXT 9 CHAPTERS PLOT DONE SO I CAN WORK ON IT EASIER IM SO HAPPY

HERE IT ISSS IM SO HAPPPYYPYPYPY

[tragic-vampire]

AFTFE Chapter 282 - The First Time She Said Yes

AKA I was feeling nostalgic and couldn't leave that story without this chapter exsisting.

How many years had it been 6? Oh boy.

This is a love letter to all those people who read it and love it. I remember it all.

If anyone cares here are the links:

This chapter had to exist. The fic would be forever in limbo without it. Now I can feel like it can rest until whenever it may decide to hit me with nostalgia again.

Now back to my other bullshit...

[quotablefanfiction]

“Ah,” John understood now. “Mycroft requires. He’s being a paranoid arse about this.” “Yes.”

John and Anthea (chp. 1)

He’s Not Paid Enough to Deal with This Shit by janonny (AO3) Sherlock (TV) – Teen – Sherlock Holmes/John Watson, Mycroft Holmes/Anthea #Alternate Universe #Canon Divergence #Humor #First Meetings

One of the first things John did was to write up step-by-step instructions on how to conduct a proper job interview before handing it over to Mycroft for his perusal. There were no kidnapping, deserted car parks or stolen therapy notes anywhere on that list.

(Or the one where John returned from the war and ended up working for Mycroft as his personal assistant slash doctor on retainer. Everything was fine, until he was sent to post bail for one Sherlock Holmes.)

[once-in-a-blue-moon-rising]

The Source

Sally Donovan is the outspoken, ballsy, youngest-ever editor of the UK's only left-leaning tabloid, The Yardstick. Anthea Doyle is the ex-activist Labour Home Secretary who's just ruined her reputation with a string of Tory-light policies in the run up to an election. Worse, Anthea's permanent secretary, Mycroft, has suddenly become extremely loose-lipped around Sally's star reporter, Greg. Now Sally's out for blood, Anthea's staring down the barrel of a reshuffle, and both of them are about to discover that first impressions are often misleading.

[pennywaltzy]

Mythea, 3, gold

This was also an answer to the 30 Day Writing Challenge, which gave us the title for the story. The prompt this request gave me was "Close the door behind you."

Promises Made, Promises Kept - Anthea extracts a favor from her husband for her help, leading him to think about the start of their whirlwind relationship that was years in the making.

READ @ AO3

"Close the door behind you."

Anthea did as she was told, walking into Mycroft’s office and sitting on the edge of his desk next to him. “Long day ahead?” she asked, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder.

“The Americans,” he said, placing his elbows on his desk and putting his head in his hands.

“No further explanation needed,” she said. “Representative Occasio-Cortez’s visit?”

“Yes, but she’s the least of the problems. It’s the three other people coming with her and their entourage.” He sighed and then looked up at Anthea. His assistant, his lover, his wife. He didn’t know what he would do without her. “If you take care of them I will buy you the gold earrings you had your eye on at Harrod’s.”

“I already bought them,” she said with a smile, then leaned over and kissed his forehead. “Make me puttanesca tonight and I’ll solve your problems for you.”

“Deal,” he said, reaching over for her hand and kissing the back of it. She smiled wider then got off his desk and made her way to her own area of the office, on the other side of the door. He leaned back in his seat, wondering if they had all the ingredients for puttanesca, before glancing to one of the many photographs littering his desk.

Strange, what one encounter with a homicidal sister will do to a man.

Lestrade had not left his side until Anthea arrived at his home, and he was a smart enough man to realize there were Things Unsaid between himself and his assistant. Lestrade gave her a rundown of tings he might need that evening, starting with some more brandy, and then he left, wishing Mycroft good luck.

Sherlock may have had doubts about Lestrade’s level of intelligence, but Mycroft knew the man was smarter than he seemed, at least when it came to human nature.

Anthea had waited until Lestrade was gone and poured herself a snifter of brandy, topped off Mycroft’s, and then put the decanter back, almost dropping it from how much her hands were shaking. He’d have given anything to keep the fear at bay, even if it had cost him a decanter of brandy, but after a sip she launched herself at him, holding him close.

Of course, the private feed into Sherrinford.

There was the private feed into his office. After the bomb, she must have figured it out and watched it. She had seen everything with her own eyes and knew exactly how close she had come to losing him. And when embraces became heated kisses and two snifters of brandy were spilled on the floor while they tried to find suitable space to show each other the things they had never had the bollocks to say out loud, things had changed.

It was impossible to hide their relationship, and he hadn’t wanted to. Fortunately, the Home Office felt it was in the country’s best interest for them to continue their professional relationship in addition to their new personal one, so he didn’t have to get a new assistant. Which helped matters when Anthea found out she was pregnant eight weeks after their first session of lovemaking on the desk in his study. A quick marriage later and he had to admit, he was blissfully happy.

There was a photograph from the wedding in Hawaii, the sonogram of the little boy they were having, photos of Sherlock and Dr. Hooper, who had had a similar conversation in the aftermath, it seemed. Photos of his parents and strangely enough, one of Eurus. Despite her actions, the results were favorable, and while she no longer verbalized things, it was a comfort to know she had gotten what she had wanted: her family back.

But the one that caught him the most was one of Anthea in her wedding dress, long-sleeved white and gold lace over a tight bodice and loose skirt. She was breathtaking in that photograph, wearing a lei of white orchids given to her by one of the members of the extended family who had attended, he forgot who. She was stunning, as she always would be. He turned away from the photographs to start ordering the ingredients for puttanesca to be delivered to his home, as he had made a promise to make it, and all promises, no matter how small, should be kept.

And if that meant cooking tonight to make his wife happy, so be it.

[luminisiv]

Day 31 of @oc-tober2023: Free choice!

I was feeling lazy so I did a meme redraw. My sci-fi campaign NPC quartet and their increasingly complicated interpersonal romantic situation. Anthea was trying to wingman for Emilius to get him out of the way of her true goal of Kaylee. But also, being a third wheel is pretty annoying, so no matter what, she's in trouble.

anyway, happy halloween, everyone! Loved seeing all the art this year, and great work to everyone who made it!

Original image here:

[a-court-of-fics-and-errors]

Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7

Azriel x Reader Fic

WARNING:

I wanted to give you a heads-up that the following portion of this fic contains mentions of rape. While it does not go into graphic detail or describe the actual event, it does acknowledge that it is happening, focusing more on the feelings of the character. There is also a short secondary scene involving an attempted rape, but again, it is not described in detail and the scene ends before the assault can take place.

Please read at your own comfort level. If this content makes you feel uncomfortable, that's completely okay. I see you, I hear you, and I deeply appreciate you taking care of yourself. To ensure you don't miss any plot points, I will provide a brief summary in a follow-up post available at this same time. It will not mention the assault. You can look for it under "Keep Moving Forwards, Part 7, Summary".

Summary: After finally deciding to leave your abusive and manipulative mate for good, you find unexpected companionship with Azriel, the Shadowsinger of the Night Court. As you navigate the aftermath of your traumatic relationship, you struggle to understand where the mating bond went wrong and contemplate your path forward, vowing never to return to the past.

Find other parts here: Master List

Content Warning: This story contains depictions of extreme emotional manipulation and abuse, mentions of physical abuse, mentions of rape, loss of a child, and general trauma.

Word Count: 1.8K

Author's Note:

This is a multi-part series. Unlike my previous works, this fanfiction delves deeper than just fluff, exploring complex emotional landscapes. As I navigate this new writing journey, I kindly ask for gentle feedback. The topics addressed are profoundly impactful, touching many lives with diverse experiences. Please be gentle with yourselves and others. Healing is a journey, and everyone processes it differently. Be kind to yourself. Take what resonates, and leave what doesn’t.

Please continue reading, being aware of the above content warnings, ensuring you are in a healthy headspace. Give yourself time to process and be gentle with yourself.

Throughout the rest of the day, you continued to watch the soldiers below, noting the times when the camp seemed quiet and when it was bustling with hundreds of males. An uneasy feeling gripped your shoulders as you felt trapped, reminiscent of being confined in your cabin in the mountains. You were unsure of Azriel's true intentions, despite his kindness, and you didn't want to wait around to find out. You decided you would leave tonight.

You took one of the pillows out of its linen lining, stuffing the naked pillow under the bed before placing your stored food and small collection of knives into the pillowcase and pushing that under the bed as well. You took the ribbon that Anthea had used to tie back your hair and looped it over a few times, securing the hunting knife Azriel had given you in the inner lining of your pants where it couldn't be seen. The only thing that gave you pause was your lack of shoes. Azriel had taken your shoes when you were brought here, and while you wanted them back, asking for them would raise suspicions. Your feet would have to endure the cold. You also gathered a few candle sticks and empty bottles from around the room, intending to use them for collecting water. 

When Anthea brought your dinner, a simple stew, you made an effort to eat every bite, savoring the warmth and preparing yourself for the uncertainty ahead. As she left, a sense of guilt washed over you—escaping a place where she clearly couldn't, if you could escape at all. The fear of continued confinement overwhelmed your fear of being caught. You half thought of bringing her with you, but her uneasy demeanor and the length of time she had been here made you question her ability to survive outside. If you could, you would someday return for her.

You perched by the window, watching as Azriel left for the evening. He didn't come to see you for the rest of the day, which was fine by you. When he was far enough away, you slid from your perch, grabbed the pillowcase of supplies from under the bed. You eyed the swords and axes, but when you went to pick one up, the heft of it caused your side to scream at you, and you decided it would slow you down too much to travel with it. You slipped out the door, ignoring the groaning protest from your aching side.

You found yourself in a small hallway, your room at the end. You made your way down towards the light radiating from below, the cold hardwood floor squeaking beneath your feet. Two other rooms were on this level, each with identical dark wooden doors. At the end, you descended the narrow stairwell to the lower level of the house. At the base was a modest living room with a large mantle, a red sofa, a dining room table with two chairs, and a meager-looking kitchen. Your heart raced too fast to take in much of your surroundings. Behind the stairs was a door that seemed to lead out the back—a welcome relief from having to walk out the front door. You pressed the door open and were immediately met with the smell of wet earth and excrement. Your lips curled in disgust as you pressed your sleeved arm to your nose and walked out, the mud squelching beneath your feet and oozing between your toes. You clambered up the hill, the fires being lit for the evening illuminating your path. Once you hit the treeline, you felt a renewed sense of peace as you continued forward, bumbling in the dark. 

Patrols would be in these woods, you were sure of that, and the best you could do was remain as silent as possible. You continued onward, occasionally freezing at the sound of a shifting branch but otherwise mostly alone. The cold mud made your legs shiver, and goosebumps erupted over your body. You silently wished you had brought one of those furs with you.

You must have only been fifteen minutes away from the camp when you heard what sounded like quiet sobs, followed by male grunting. Your heart stopped in your chest as you listened, the sobs sounding inherently female while the male groaned and moaned. As you walked closer, the sobs became clearer, and the male grunting louder. You realized the female was Anthea, from the small squeaks she let out.

You stopped dead in your tracks, recognizing the sounds of the crying. Your mind raced as you considered your options. There was no way this was of her own accord. Knowing what you did about Illyrian males and the way females shrank around them, you knew this wasn’t the first time this had happened to Anthea. Steeling yourself, you moved closer to the sounds, the light of a single lantern shining in the distance. As the sounds grew louder, the bile in your throat rose as you heard the male, between his animalistic grunts and groans, praising his victim. You had been in her place before. You had felt what she was feeling, and the anger that grew in you bloomed into a red-hot fire. 

You pulled the knife from your pants lining, gripping the handle hard within your fist, dropping the pillowcase behind you, long forgotten as you started to see red. Swallowing the rock in your throat, you moved towards the light and, without thinking, hurled yourself forward.

Your blade slashed through the wings of the male, and he howled, throwing you off him. His pants were still around his ankles as he turned to face you, breathing ragged. His face. Suddenly it all came back: the three Illyrian men, the tree, the storm. Darian.

Anthea slunk away, pressing herself against a tree, tears streaming down her scarred face.

“You,” the male hissed. “I thought you fucking died.”

You said nothing, holding the now-bloody knife as you struggled to your feet.

Darian pulled his trousers back up, tying them in place while licking his lips hungrily. “You’re going to wish you had died when I’m done with you.”

You pushed yourself upright. Though smaller than the others, he still towered over you, his wings flared out in anger, red blood streaming from the gash you had cut. He drew a long serrated hunting knife from his side, flipping it in his hand with ease, as if to show you the weapon he intended to gut you with. You swallowed any notion of fear and steadied yourself, crouching slightly to stabilize your body. The male smirked at your attempt. “Little kitty wants to play?” he laughed, crouching lower as well.

Without a sound, you launched yourself forward, your shoulder connecting with his upper chest, pushing him back slightly. Seemingly taken aback by your strength, the male stumbled and then laughed. “Strong one,” he hissed. “I like fighters, unlike that one over there.” He gestured to Anthea. “She stopped fighting a long time ago.”

His comment sent a new wave of rage through you. You yelled gutturally, slashing forward in a few long strides, but the male sidestepped immediately. When he was next to you, he wrapped his arm around your neck, pulling you tight against him. His scent turned your stomach as he leaned in close, sending his tongue up the side of your face. “Delicious,” he purred as you desperately reached to loosen his grip.

He lifted you from the ground, his continuous pressure on your neck closing your windpipe. The familiar white lining of blacking out began to creep into your vision. You gasped, your nails digging into his hardened skin as he gripped places on your body that recoiled from his touch. He laughed into your ear, breathing you in.

In a moment of panic, you clawed wildly at his face, successfully scratching a long, bloody line down his cheek and through his eye. The male yelled in pain, loosening his grip enough for you to fall to your knees, choking on the air that filled your lungs. “You bitch!” he screamed, covering his eye as he picked up his knife and stabbed it down towards you. You rolled out of the way quickly, the knife digging into the forest floor.

Ignoring the pain in your side, you stood and looked over at Anthea, who sat frozen against the tree. You stumbled over to her, croaking out, “Come on!” But Anthea merely looked at you, her eyes glazed over the same way they were when Azriel touched her, the same way you knew you looked when your mate had done this to you over and over again. “Anthea, we have to go. Now!” you urged, but she didn’t move.

Darian got to his feet, turning towards you, rage embodied. You glanced back at the trembling, half-clothed Anthea, but before you could say anything, your feet were carrying you deeper into the forest. The male came barreling after you, howling insults and threats. Your throat raw from where he had choked you, hot tears poured down your face as you ran into the midnight black. But the male was faster and more calculating. Before you made it far, he grabbed your shoulder and slammed you to the ground. The air was knocked from your lungs as you cried out.

Darian, bleeding from his cheek, laughed. “Thought you could get away?” he taunted.

He straddled you, his hulking body pressing into your midsection as he fumbled with his pants. Even in the night, you heard the sound of rope untying. You screamed, blood-curdling, begging him to stop. Your hands flew up, only for him to grab your wrists, his hands caked in blood as he tried to work your pants down. You kept screaming, begging for anything, anyone. The male laughed into your face. 

Just when you thought it was all going to begin, the beginning of your end, the male screamed and lurched backward. Behind him stood Anthea, holding your knife, lodged in Darian's back. Her eyes were still glazed over. In an instant, he turned around, tackling Anthea, pulling his own knife from his holster and plunging it repeatedly into her neck and chest, howling curses at her.

You lay on the forest floor, unable to stop what was happening as Anthea was almost dead upon impact. You let out a hollow shriek, screaming for him to stop hurting her.

“Y/N!” someone called out, followed by the crashing of woodland underbrush breaking around whoever was running. You were still screaming as Azriel cleared the last fallen log and took in the sight. The male, so enraged, didn’t even turn to see Azriel. Azriel ran to you, wrapping you in his arms, and then a whoosh of cold wind carried you away from the forest.

Author's Note:

Due to the sensitive content in this chapter, I have chosen not to tag anyone. Those who requested tags will be tagged in the summary chapter instead.

I understand that rape and sexual assault are deeply troubling and painful topics in our society. I wrestled with the ethics of writing about these themes and considered whether this addition would move the story forward or if it would be better left out. I am aware that some depictions in novels and fanfictions can be harmful, as they may glorify or misuse these themes. That is not my intention at all.

My writing often reflects my journey toward healing and understanding myself in more complex and holistic ways. While I recognize that such writings don't always need to be shared, my connection to these characters, their pasts, and their traumas compelled me to include this subject matter. I frequently ask myself if scenes involving power and control over another character can be portrayed without depicting non-consent or sexual assault. If possible, I avoid these topics altogether. However, I chose to include this scene because of the ongoing systemic oppression of women in these novels, particularly Illyrian women. I aim to do justice to these characters and highlight the complex systems of oppression both in fiction and in our world.

I am still learning how to share my art with others, and my art includes a part of myself. I hope you understand that my intentions are not to use these themes as mere plot devices or for shock value, but rather to serve a greater purpose.

Please take care of yourself and make choices that honor your well-being. Know that you are loved, cared for, and valuable.

Thank you for allowing me to explore this topic. I'll see you in the next part.

[chornayadrakoshig]

I decided to post 2 art WIPs that I'll probably never finish (they are about 6-7 old and I don't even do digital art anymore) and I think it's funny how these 2 arts are a representation of my 2 types of fandom works in a nutshell

1) any happy type of fix-it (everybody lives nobody dies, that sort of stuff)

2) angsty and sad. prepare to get emotionally wrecked

This "there are 2 wolves fighting inside of me" usually happens with fanfiction but like. Whould you pick "Anthea was never kidnaped and Hopper's family lives all together on Lyoko" or "Aelita is absolutely depressed after the death of her father"? Because I have options

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hi! Could you recommend some fanfictions with Sherlock and John, when they confess their love, around Christmas? Some can also be angst. I searched everywhere, but I couldn't find anything.....

Hi Lovely!

Oh gosh! I think a lot of my Christmas themed recs are love confessions, so honestly do check out those lists :)

But here are the one's I've got tagged with both tags, or that I remember have love confessions in them... Please add your own, friends!

Merry Christmas!

CHRISTMAS-TIME LOVE CONFESSIONS

When Morning Comes by Youarethelightoftheworld (T, 423 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Lazy Mornings/Morning After, Fluff and Angst, Sleepy Cuddles, Domestic Fluff, Cuddling / Snuggling, Emotional Hurt/Comfort) – “Sherlock,” says John solemnly, “I’m not sure we can go anywhere today.”

Yet What I Can, I Give Him by a_big_apple (G, 1,391 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Kisses) – This Christmas is much improved over the last – mostly because Sherlock isn't dead – but it isn't so simple for John to recover from his grief, and he finds comfort in likely and unlikely places.

Santa Knows by Itsallfine (T, 1,719 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Party, Love Confessions, First Kiss, Fluff, Matchmaking, POV Sherlock, Pining Sherlock) – Sherlock and John both get exactly what they want from the Yard's secret Santa exchange. Pure holiday fluff.

Christmas by thegirlinthedeathfrisbee (G, 1,768 w., 1 Ch. || Mistletoe, First Kiss, Fluff) – John goes home for Christmas -- to the Holmes home, that is.

Entanglement by orphan_account (G, 3,218 w., 1 Ch. || Confessions, Physics, Metaphors, Texting, Pining, Christmas, Mind Palace, Sick Fic, Fluff, Humour, Praise Kink) - On Christmas Eve, snow covers London, John visits Harry, and Sherlock and Mrs. Hudson untangle some knots.

First Night Out by verityburns (M, 3,251 w., 1 Ch. || Romance, Christmas, Developing Relationship) – As John recovers from the effects of a brutal kidnapping, he and Sherlock attend the Yarders' Christmas Party. There are... developments on the dance floor...

It Wasn't Just the Mistletoe by Irrevocably_Sherlocked (E, 3,593 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas Fluff, Mistletoe, First Kiss / Time, Frottage, Masturbation, Come as Lube) – Sherlock and John just stood there, seemingly frozen. Sherlock was desperately trying to think of a way out of this. There was no way he could kiss John, even a small kiss, and not have him know immediately how he felt. Sherlock could lie, and fake and sham, but there was no way he could hide this.

Last Christmas by Mazarin221b (T, 3,911 w., 1 Ch. || Fluff, Pining Sherlock, First Kiss) – That Earth-shaking revelation, then, leads to a problem, and one that Sherlock realizes should be solved quickly, before John’s dates turn into girlfriends or boyfriends, because sometimes girlfriends or boyfriends can turn into wives or husbands while your back is turned. Every time John hums happily at the mirror as he shaves, splashes on a little gift cologne Mrs. Hudson bought him for Christmas, Sherlock is drawn back to that night by the fire, and the way John’s touch had made the world stand still.

Tree Topper by May_Shepard (E, 4,017 w., 1 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Christmas Tree, Christmas Fluff, Drunken Shenanigans, Smut, First Time, Friends to Lovers) – Sherlock and John are celebrating Christmas the best way they know how--alone together, with booze. They've almost finished decorating their tree, but John is determined to find the best way to top it.

Christmas at Holmes Cottage by johnlockedstarkid (G, 4,295 w., 7 Ch. || Christmas, Fake Relationship, Love Confessions, Holmes Family, Pining, Kisses, Fluff, Allusions to Mystrade) – Sherlock doesn't want to have to deal with his mother's wishes for him to find a partner when he goes to visit them for Christmas, so asks John to pose as his boyfriend. Little does he know he's not the only one who wishes that the relationship could be real.

Maybe This Christmas by feverishsea (T, 6,021 w., 1 Ch. || Matchmaker Anthea, Anthea POV, Slight Mystrade, Holmes Family) – Anthea has given up her life, her own desires, even her name in service of something greater than herself. But that doesn’t mean she can’t see when someone else wants something – even if she doesn’t happen to care overmuch for that person. And it doesn’t mean she isn’t willing to help.

once upon a time by darcylindbergh (M, 6,501 w., 6 Ch. || Fluff and Angst, First Kiss / Time, Love Declarations, Christmas) – It starts with a wish. In the beginning, John comes home. Part 1 of things fairy tales are made of

that thing you like by misspamela (E, 7,165 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers) – "Happy Christmas, etc. etc." Sherlock and John go to the Holmes’ for Christmas, and everyone thinks they’re together.

Their Great Reward by BeautifulFiction (T, 10,095 w., 1 Ch. || UST, First Kiss, Fluff) – Boxing day, in John's opinions, is the worst day of the year. Christmas is over, the tree is wilting and stripped of gifts, and there's a week of dead-time until the clean slate of the new year. However the combination of a blizzard, a power-cut and Sherlock might just make it a day to remember.

Merlot by Itsallfine (E, 14,844 w., 17 Ch. || Christmas, Pining Sherlock, Wine, Slow Burn, First Kiss / Time, Love Confessions, Wine, Holmes Family) – Sherlock and John work toward becoming something more as they prepare to host the Holmes parents at 221B for the holidays. Part of 25 Days of Fic-Mas 2015.

Sherlock Holmes and the Case of the Missing Christmas Spirit by SilentAuror (M, 15,002 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Domesticity, Post S3, Happy Ending) – John hates Christmas. So does Sherlock, but he suggests that they do Christmas "properly" this year to see if they can't track down its elusive magic and discover for themselves what Christmas is supposed to be about.

Till Death Do Us Part by prettysailorsoldier (M, 15,390 w., 1 Ch. || Fake Relationship, Case Fic, Friends to Lovers, Fake Marriage, Christmas, Fluff) – When Sherlock links a recent spree of murder-suicides to a psychologist who specializes in marriage counseling, there's really only one thing to do: Go undercover as a couple in hopes of drawing the killer out. Faking a relationship seems easy enough, but things take a turn when their real issues start to creep into the sessions, and, all the while, a killer is watching, waiting in the shadows for their chance to strike.

Wonderful, Etcetera. by VictoryCandescence (T, 16,955 w., 3 Ch. || Wonderful Life AU || Alternate Timelines, Brotherhood, Homophobia, Suicidal Ideations, Mentions of Drug Use, Friendship, Different TRF, Sherlock’s Past, Victor Trevor is Past Boyfriend, Depression, Hallucination, Love Confessions, Christmas, First Kiss) – Sherlock thinks everyone would be better off if he had never existed, including and especially himself. When he finds himself in a world in which his wish has been granted, he begins to think perhaps even he could be wrong – but it takes an unlikely chaperone to make him not only observe, but understand.

You're On the Air by prettysailorsoldier (M, 20,616 w., 1 Ch. || Unilock, Matchmaking, Radio, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Sherlock POV, Pining Sherlock, Flirting, Bisexual John) – The Consulting Detective and The Woman dominate the airwaves of their university radio station, doling out advice on everything from meeting the parents to sexual positions. When their ratings start to dip before the holidays, however, manager Mike thinks it's time for some fresh blood, and who better to fill in the gaps than rugby captain--and notorious flirt--John Watson? Part 1 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Winter's Delights by Kate_Lear (E, 21,173 w., 1 Ch. || Holmes Family, Christmas, Fake Relationship, Friends to Lovers, Bed Sharing, Domestics) – Sherlock takes John home for Christmas to meet the extended Holmes family. Part 1 of Winter's Delights

Ghost Stories by SwissMiss (M, 22,256 w., 1 Ch. || Pining, Holmes Family, Christmas, Friends to Lovers, Slow Burn, Bed Sharing, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, First Time) – Sherlock's parents think he and John are a couple. They might be onto something.

You Can Imagine the Christmas Dinners by ardenteurophile (T, 23,584 w., 9 Ch. || Pre-Slash, Drama, Fluff & Angst, Humour, Romance) – Sherlock takes John along for Christmas dinner with Mycroft and Mummy (And "Anthea", too). Over the course of the evening, John realises that everyone in the room - apart from him - seems to think that he and Sherlock are a couple. Part 2 of Xmas Dinners Verse

Dropping the Act by jadztone (T, 27,258 w., 10 Ch. || Post S4, Fake Relationship, First Kiss, Snuggles and Cuddles, Mary's Past, Morally-Grey Mary, Idiots in Love, Parentlock) – Sherlock and John are quite happy living together with Rosie in Baker St. They might be even happier if they didn’t act towards each other like their love is only platonic. Mycroft brings troubling news in the form of Mary’s parents wanting to know just what their grandchild’s home life is like. The boys decide to spend Christmas pretending like they are in love in order to seem more like a "normal" family. It's easy enough to pretend when all you're doing is dropping the act.

Another Auld Lang Syne by DiscordantWords (M, 30,234 w., 31 Ch. || Post S4, Mutual Pining, Alternating POV, Introspection, Parentlock, Christmas, New Year’s, First Kiss, Past Drug Use, Angst with Happy Ending, Drinking, Sherlock Whump) – There had been years of missed chances.

Deck the Halls by itsalwaysyou_jw (T, 31,018 w., 24 Ch. || Advent Fic / Multiple One-Shots, Assorted Tags) – One Johnlock ficlet for every day leading up to Christmas. Who is ready for pining, first kisses, established Johnlock, and everything in between? This collection of stand-alone ficlets will have it all. 

a good old-fashioned happy ending by darcylindbergh (E, 32,731 w., 26 Ch. || Christmas, Frottage, Comfort, Est. Rel., Fluff, Insecure Sherlock, Frottage, Nightmares, Sleepy Sherlock, Marriage Proposal, Humour, Fluff, Dancing, Cooking, Happy Ending) – For Christmas this year, Sherlock wants to get John something special: something every fairytale deserves. Part 2 of things fairy tales are made of

Our Enthusiasms Which Cannot Always Be Explained by withoutawish (M, 32,961 w., 1 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Mild Gore, Sherlock Whump) – The list that is tacked haphazardly on the refrigerator of 221B reads, ‘Kidney(s), and/or a full cadaver (preferably male, late 30s, under six feet tall), bag of fresh toes, sixteen cow’s eyes (corneas retained), dual exhaust hand –held flame thrower, an unopened first edition copy of Joseph Conrad’s 'Heart of Darkness', and no less than ten abhorrently gruesome murders in the upcoming month.” The one neatly hanging next to it simply reads, “Sex.” One of these lists is not John Watson’s. If John Watson were to put what he really wanted in list form, to live in a land somewhere beyond ‘almosts' now that Sherlock Holmes has indeed returned to him, he would never be able to look his flatmate in the eye ever again.

Goodness Gives Extras by mydwynter (E, 39,629 w., 6 Ch. || Fluff & Angst, Case Fic, Oral / Anal, Humour, First Time, Miscommunication, Snark, Christmas) – Christmas time. 'Tis the season to settle down with a drink, some food and a present or two, and to enjoy the quiet relaxation of the holiday. Instead, there's a case that drags them all over, missing presents, disappointed kids, angry parents, and a freak snowfall. On top of that John has to deal with Sherlock, who is being even more of a prat than usual. He really shouldn't have expected anything different.

John Watson's Twelve Days of Christmas by earlgreytea68 (M, 53,464 w., 14 Ch. || Christmas, Holmes Family, Fake Relationship, Alternate First Meeting, Falling in Love, Fluff and Angst, Hardcore Pining) – It's the holiday season. John Watson needs money. Sherlock Holmes needs something else.

The Baker Street Nativity by SwissMiss (E, 99,662 w., 23 Ch. || Nativity! AU || Teacher Sherlock / TA John, Pining, Sherlock POV, UST, Angst, Christmas, Music/Song Fic, Anal / BJ’s, First Kiss / Time) –Fusion between Sherlock (BBC) and Nativity! (2009 movie starring Martin Freeman). Sherlock is a primary school teacher and John is assigned to be his classroom assistant. Together, they are charged with putting on the school's Nativity play. What could possibly go wrong? Part 1 of The Baker Street Nativity Verse

[the-toad-in-your-piano]

Fanfiction Masterpost

I never thought I’d be cool enough to do one of these nifty masterposts, but I’ve realized that my fic volume is growing pretty fast (and I’ve suddenly gained a bunch of folks here; hi!) so I’ve decided to put it all together here.  

Fics are categorised by fandom and ship (or lack of ship) and sorted by rating (G, T, M, E).  If a word count is not listed, it’s in the 2-5k range.

List is under the cut!

AO3 profile link

...

BBC Sherlock

Mycroft Holmes/Greg Lestrade

SERIES

Flowers and Fatherhood - Tales of Greg’s teenage daughter, Ellie, and the formation of a new little family.

Through the Twisting Vines Outside - Chronicling Mycroft’s recovery, with Greg’s help, post-series 4.

A Broadcast From the Distant, Dark Beyond - Febuwhump 2023.

Light of My Life, My Darling - Flufftober 2023.

OVER 5,000 WORDS

There Is, In Fact, Mistletoe - Christmas moment!  10k.  Written for the 2022 Mystrade Holiday Collection.  Greg’s got a big family and it’s time for Mycroft to meet all of them.  Silly little kids and funny football games galore.  And, of course, a bit of mistletoe.  Rating: G.

No Fear of Shadows - 6k.  Established relationship fic in which Greg attends his first political event with Mycroft.  Rating: G.

The Chessboard Awaits - One of my personal favourites!  20k.  A series of vignettes spanning Mycroft’s entire life and exploring his usage of chess to navigate life.  Not really magical realism, but magical-realism-flavoured.  Rating: T.

Our Love Keeps the Things It Finds - Soulmate AU!  20k.  Everyone develops soulmark tattoos based on the things their soulmate (here called a Match) loves the most.  Getting together.  Features a little bit of opera and a lot of fluffy sweetness and silly pining.  Rating: T.

Where the Cinders Blaze - Fantasy AU!  7k.  Febuwhump Day 21: Shackled, Day 22 (alt prompt 9): Natural Disaster, and Day 23: "You'll have to go through me."  Mycroft is a mage on the run; Greg is his rugged saviour.  Rating: T.

Start a Flame in Your Heart - A Mystrade retelling of “The Snow Queen.”  Fantasy elements.  6.3k.  Rating: T.

Crimson Blaze - Longfic alert!  120k words of action and adventure in New York City.  Not an American AU, but not canon compliant either.  Lots of dancing around each other, a touch of jealousy, and plenty of suspense.  Rating: M with Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.

the only truth i know is you - Longfic alert!  75k words for the 29 prompts of Febuwhump 2024.  Chronicles of Mycroft’s abduction and slow but steady recovery, told through his, Greg’s, and Anthea’s eyes.  Rating: M with Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.

Then Let Us Love - Victorian AU!  65k words for the lovely AnnStPere for Fandom Trumps Hate 2023.  Mycroft is a daguerreotype portrait artist and Greg a police constable.  Lots and lots of pining.  Rating: E, though there’s only a little smut.

AT/UNDER 5,000 WORDS - Rating: General

Forever’s Gonna Start Tonight - Mild angst with a happy ending.  Mycroft is out of the country on business and realises that he misses his friend Greg a bit more than one generally misses a friend. 

That Breathless Charm - Short, silly piece with exhausted dancing to ridiculous non-music.  Terrible singing.  

Rugged - Febuwhump Day 5: “That’s gonna scar.”  Ficlet (500 words).  Greg gets slashed pretty bad in a fight and is sad about his new scar.  He worries that he’s going to look ugly, old, and feeble.  Mycroft, however, has a different opinion.  No graphic violence. 

When You Wake Up - Febuwhump Day 12: “Can you hear me?” and Day 13, alt prompt 3: Soft words.  Greg is in a coma.  Mycroft, never leaving his side, speaks to him.  Happy ending. 

Flowers - Mystrade Is Family submission!  Mycroft meets Greg’s teenage daughter for the first time. 

Forevermore - 5+1 of Mycroft bonding with Greg's daughter Ellie. 

The Magic of Your Charms - Greg is one of Cinderella's footmen.  Mycroft is his new carriage driver.  Fantasy elements. 

My Sometime - Younger Mycroft and Greg alternate first meeting at a café. 

The Flower of My Heart - A frightened Ellie, Greg’s teenage daughter, calls Mycroft for help. 

So Much We Share - Nervous Greg at a policemen's conference.  Swapping clothes and splashing in the pool.

As Sure As the Stars - Moving in together and painting a new flat themselves.

Gold Dust at My Feet - Corn maze while dressed up as cowboys.  Lots of silly jokes.

Right By His Side - A Yard Halloween party.  Mycroft decorates the fireplace, then watches Greg get pranked with a birthday cake.

Hello, You; Goodbye, Heart - A wrong number call results in a bold Greg asking Mycroft out.

I’ll Be His (and He’ll Be Mine) - Greg tries out a series of terrible pick-up lines on Mycroft.

Say You’ll Be Mine - Greg proposes to Mycroft.

Life Can Be So Sweet - Mycroft has never had hot chocolate.  Greg makes it for him.

Dearer By Far Than the World’s Brightest Star - Greg's daughter Ellie has been doing a bit of redecorating.  Mycroft enlists her help to surprise Greg with fairy lights in their bedroom.

By and By - Greg has kept Mycroft's business card for ten years.  Mycroft finds that rather sweet.

A Great Big Flame in Your Heart - Mycroft grudgingly tells Greg the story of his codename.

Got a Sweet Tooth for My Sweetheart - Greg learns to bake.

So Much Honey the Bees Envy Me - Silly one about watching a football match together.

What My Heart Would Say (If It Only Knew How) - Mycroft tries out comforting Greg with a hug.

Every Lovely Summer’s Day - Scene on the lake of a holiday trip.  Ficlet: 524 words.

AT/UNDER 5,000 WORDS - Rating: Teen

All That Lies Under the Big Blue Skies - A fluffy Established Relationship moment on the beach in the rain.  A little bit of nervousness from Mycroft about being in public, but overall very sweet.  Rating: T, but it’s only not-G because Greg says The Fuck Word one time.

Please Leave a Message - Febuwhump Day 1 (alt prompt 10): Inferno and Febuwhump Day 9: Voice loss.  An explosion on Downing Street and Mycroft’s disappearance sends Greg into a panic.  BAMF Greg and BAMF Anthea.  Angst with a happy ending. 

Breathe With Me - Febuwhump Day 3 (alt prompt 1): Rope burns.  Greg helps Mycroft cleanse his wounds.  Literally and metaphorically.  Gentle hurt/comfort.  

Down on the Cards - Febuwhump Day 4: Knife to the throat.  Mild violence warning.  Little bit of blood.  Greg rescues Mycroft, but it might be too late.  Ambiguous ending warning. 

And the Whole World Dissolved - Febuwhump Day 10: Difficulty breathing.  Ficlet (600 words).  An explosion throws Mycroft into the Thames. 

Carry You Home - Febuwhump Day 11: Fever.  Mycroft has been missing for weeks.  Greg has finally found him, sick and delirious with fever.

A Gentle Voice - Febuwhump Day 15: Self-sacrifice.  Ficlet: 700 words.  Greg takes a bullet for Mycroft.  Bit of an ambiguous ending.  Non-graphic violence.  

Stay Awake, Beautiful - Febuwhump Day 16: Semi-conscious.  Just under 1k words.  Mycroft is losing blood fast.  Greg, John, and Sherlock do their best to save him.  Ambiguous ending.   

When the Night Meets the Morning Sun - Sequel to Look After You.  Mycroft healing post-TFP; Greg gentling him through it.  

When the Sun Shines Bright (and Gay) - Greg and Mycroft's date is spoiled by rain.  They kiss in the rain anyway.

What I Found in Your Arms - Mycroft with body image issues; Greg comforting him.

AT/UNDER 5,000 WORDS - Rating: Mature

Static - Febuwhump Day 7: Made to watch, Day 14: Captivity, Day 17: Silent tears, and Day 18 (alt prompt 6): Limp.  6k.  Greg is kidnapped.  Mycroft does everything in his power to find him.  Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.

Carve Into Your Ribs - Darkfic alert!  Febuwhump Day 6: Secrets revealed.  Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.  Dark!Mycroft and Dark!Greg.  This one’s a bit gory.  

Kiss Me Like It’s Sunrise - Immortality AU!  Febuwhump Day 19, alt prompt 7: Immortality and Day 20: Knife wound.  Greg is immortal.  Mycroft, unfortunately, is not.  There is a happy ending, I promise!  Warnings for graphic violence and some suicidal ideation.

All Lives End - Major Character Death and Graphic Depictions of Violence alert!  Febuwhump Day 24: Bloody clothes.  Mycroft is killed.  Greg, covered in his blood, copes with the aftermath.  Additional warning for some suicidal ideation.  

Missing, Presumed Dead - Febuwhump Day 25: Assumed dead, Day 26 (alt prompt 8): Found footage, Day 27 (alt prompt 2): Caged, and Day 28: "You're safe now."  Mycroft goes missing and Greg has to rally John and Sherlock to save him when MI6 refuses to go looking.  Graphic Depictions of Violence warning.

In All My Dreams - Pirate!Mystrade scene with Mycroft in the brig.  Features singing pirates.  

AT/UNDER 5,000 WORDS - Rating: Explicit

Of Blue Suits and Brollies - Porn with a wee bit of plot.  A snarky comment from Sherlock leads to kissing in the rain... and a bit more than kissing.  Greg thoroughly enjoys some dirty talk.

Absolutely Anything - Porn without plot.  Greg gets a bit frisky at one of Mycroft’s work events, so Mycroft gets revenge.  All happy and consensual.

...

Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Morning, Love - An instinctive kiss from John makes the morning a little awkward.  But they can take this in stride, right?  Adorable parent!lock.  Rating: G.

Love and the Hunter - Downton Abbey crossover!  25k.  For the wonderful Mon221B for Fandom Trumps Hate 2023.  John and Sherlock solve a case together in the village.  A touch of smut.  Rating: E.

...

Gen / No Romance

Highly Qualified, Incident Aside - Anthea-centric!  The story of how she first met Mycroft, as well as the story of her name.  Features asexual and awesome Anthea.  Rating: G.

What Makes the Flowers Grow - Mycroft thinking about how he does and will continue to care for Greg's daughter Ellie.  Rating: G.

There Will Not Even Be a Grave - Major Character Death alert!  Mycroft is killed in a terrorist attack.  Sherlock copes (or fails to cope) with the news.  Rating: T with MCD warning.

Look After You - Febuwhump Day 2: Flinching.  Mycroft is struggling after the events at Sherrinford.  Anthea phones Greg for help.  Can be read as pre-slash if you want it to be.  Focuses on the beginning of trauma recovery.  Rating: T. 

A Trail of Burnt Things - Febuwhump Day 9: Panic.  Follows Greg in the immediate aftermath of Sherlock’s fall.  Gen.  Hurt No Comfort.  Rating: T.

...

Grantchester (TV)

Leonard Finch/Daniel Marlowe

For You, I’d Wait Forever - The hours after Leonard’s return from prison.  Daniel is overcome with emotion.  Hurt/comfort.  Not super fandom-blind-friendly, but you’re welcome to give it a shot!  Rating: G.

...

Hotel Portofino (TV)

Lucian Ainsworth/Anish Sengupta

We’ll Make It Alright - The first Hotel Portofino fic on AO3!  Missing scenes in Season 1, Episode 5.  Lucian and Anish both have some confessions to make.  Reasonably fandom-blind-friendly.  Rating: T.

[d011zk1ll]

I wrote a oneshot for my mlb future au

[tragic-vampire]

AFTFE Chapter 283 – J^2 Found Out About the Engagement

Full title using naming convention: The First Time James and Jamie Found Out About The Engagement

Cute naming convention… leads to ridiculously long chapter names.

And I’m back again!

Why? Honestly, no clue. Writing itch to scratch? All your lovely comments making me feel all warm and fuzzy? Nostalgia still in full force? I’ve gone insane? All of the above?

Here are the links:

First of all – I cannot express how scared I was to write James and Jamie again so be kind.

Secondly this was supposed to have another person finding out but it got too long so I don’t know when you should expect that but if I do another chapter it’ll be that… But that’s even more frightening than this one was.

Please enjoy what your love has caused me to do. Let me know if my OCs are still likable.

[alyslaskeywriter]

A Woman’s Problem

Author’s Note: This story was originally published under my fanfiction account as part of a story writing challenge. It is unchanged from its original form. Cut below due to mentions of blood.

Early one morning during the springtime of her thirteenth year, Saffron Summers was awoken from a fitful sleep by an acute and intense pain in her lower abdomen, and the distantly familiar sensation of having wet the bed. Confused, Saffron peeled back the covers.

Underneath, everything was red.

Through the pain and the nausea, Saffron managed somehow to strip her bedding. She took it with her to the bathroom and dumped it, along with her pyjamas, into a bathtub full of cold water as she cleaned herself and changed into new clothes.

She opened the bathroom door to find herself face-to-face with her father, who took one look at blood-tinted bath water and frowned, the soft glow surrounding his body turning a shade of yellow.

“Let me call your mother,” he said, with a single stroke of Saffron’s blonde hair. “This is more her sort of problem. No, not a problem, but… She will know what to do. Leave the laundry to me.”

Saffron smiled widely and nodded, before going to feed the rabbits; a task that took her much longer than it usually would. She had just finished when she heard the unmistakable sound of her mother yodelling through the letterbox.

Anthea Oregano, previously Anthea Summers, floated through the open front door, completely ignoring her ex-husband as she walked towards her daughter with open arms.

“Saffy, my petal,” she said, enveloping Saffron into a tight embrace. “What a special, special day for you.”

It didn’t feel all that special to Saffron. Her mother released her from the hug and raised her hands to either side of her face, holding her at arm’s length.

“You know what this means, don’t you, my love?” she said, sincerely, the rosy glow around her deepening in colour. “You are a woman, now.”

“Thanks for coming over, Anthea,” said Saffron’s father, standing in the corner of the room. “I just didn’t know what I was supposed to do or get her, other than paracetamol.”

“Paracetamol? Why paracetamol?”

“Because it’s supposed to hurt, isn’t it?”

“Femininity is pain, Steven,” Anthea told him. “Analgesics have been created by the pharmaceutical industry to numb the sensation that connects us with our inner goddess.”

“Have they?”

“Yes, Steve. Everyone knows that. Now, Saffron, darling, I have a lovely ginger tea here with fennel and Angelica root. Drink that, and you’ll feel divine in no time at all.”

Saffron and her father followed Anthea through to the kitchen, where she poured out a cup of straw coloured liquid and handed it to Saffron.

“Thank you,” said Saffron, taking the cup and drinking the tea, which tasted earthy, which was good.

“You’re welcome, my flower. Now, I have some herbs and crystals that will help realign your chakras so that they can centre around your womb. That will help to awaken your feminine mystique.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve interjected from behind the two women — yes, Saffron was a woman now — his aura darkening from the yellow of before to a golden orange. “But maybe we should concentrate on making sure she has… well…”

“Well?”

“You know…”

“No, Steve.” Saffron’s mother tilted her head. “I don’t know.”

“Something along the lines of…” Steven sighed, loudly. “Ladies’… hygiene… objects.”

“Sanitary towels?” Anthea said, with a shudder. “Don’t be ridiculous. She doesn’t need them.”

“But—”

“Those things pollute our oceans, which are intrinsically connected to the moon, which in turn has a spiritual calling to the womb. She will be better off without them. Come, Saffron. Let’s go outside and meditate.”

Saffron offered her father a reassuring smile as she followed her mother outside. The orange glow surrounding him was growing darker by the second, though his face showed no trace of changing emotions.

“You know, my love, we should maybe take you out to the woods. You can bathe in a stream and that will cleanse your aura,” Anthea mused, wrapping one arm around her daughter’s shoulders as she led her to the garden. “Wash away the remnants of your childhood cocoon so that you may truly emerge like a beautiful butterfly, ready to fly into the world on the wings of your womanhood. What do you think, dear?”

“That sounds lovely, Mummy,” Saffron said. A tight wave of pain spread across her abdomen, causing her upper body to cramp and her knees to shake. “Maybe later, though. I don’t really feel well enough to walk just yet.”

“I’m sure you will after we finish the crystal therapy, my sunshine.”

“Oh. Yes. I expect I will.”

Behind them, Saffron’s father cleared his throat. “Yes, Steven?” Anthea said, with a sigh.

“I just wanted to say that I am going out,” Steve announced. “I’ll be back in three-quarters of an hour or so.”

“Yes, yes. Go.”

“Are you sure you don’t need—”

“Of course we don’t need you here, Steve.”

“I was asking Saffron, not you.”

Saffron looked at her father. He didn’t raise his voice, or look angry at all, but his aura had turned a bright, hot red, redder than her bedsheets had been when she woke up.

“No, Daddy,” she shook her head. Her poor dad looked like he needed to get some fresh air and calm down more than she needed him to stay with her. Besides, her mother was with her, and she seemed to know a lot more about this than he did. “We’ll be fine. I promise.”

Steven Summers gave his daughter and ex-wife a curt nod of the head, before leaving the room. Saffron heard the click of the front door and the rumble of his car engine as she and her mother went out into the garden.

After an hour of meditation, crystal therapy, and herbal oil inhalation, Saffron felt a lot calmer, but not yet divine. She was still in pain, but her mother reassured her that this was good, her body was simply attuning itself to the mystical pulls and callings of her inner goddess. That was reassuring. Saffron did want to be attuned to her inner goddess, after all.

“How do you feel now, my treasure?” Anthea asked Saffron, as they returned inside. “Would you like to go and cleanse yourself in a free-running stream, now?”

Saffron honestly couldn’t say that she did. Really, she just wanted to wrap herself in a blanket and watch The Wizard of Oz. But, she didn’t think that her mother — her actual mother, not Mother Earth —would deem that an appropriate activity for a new woman.

“Could we do that tomorrow, maybe?” Saffron asked. “I think my chakras need some time to adjust to their new alignment first.”

Anthea paused, as if she were considering this.

“You know, you are absolutely right. Very silly of me to forget. You know, I think your woman’s instinct must be kicking in already. Aren’t you clever?”

Back inside, Saffron’s father was sitting on the sofa with his head in his hands, a reusable shopping bag at his feet. His aura had dimmed slightly. It was still red, but a softer sort of red, like the sunset the night before a glorious morning.

“Well, I shall see you just before dawn tomorrow,” Anthea told Saffron. “That way, the sun can rise on this new phase in your life.”

“That sounds just wonderful, Mummy.”

Saffron and her mother kissed goodbye, and Anthea left the house with a jangle of bracelets and a waft of patchouli. Steve looked out of the window to make sure she was out of eyesight and earshot before he turned to his daughter.

“So, I went to the shop,” he told her.

“Oh. That’s nice.”

“The girl at the counter was very helpful. I explained your, er, situation, and she picked out some pad things for you.”

“But what about the ocean?”

“I asked about the ocean, and the girl said that there were other things you could try, but these would be best for today. They’re made from recycled materials. I checked.”

Saffron considered for a moment. Surely, if they were recycled, then that couldn’t upset the eternal equilibrium of the moon and tides too much. So, she nodded.

“There’s also paracetamol.”

“But Mummy said-”

“I know what your mum said.” Steve sighed, and his aura flashed once more. “But, at the end of the day, she isn’t always right. I’m not going to make you take them, but I am not going to sit here and watch you pull that face every five minutes without offering you anything to make it stop hurting.”

Saffron tilted her head. Her belly did hurt quite a lot. So did her back. And her hips. And her head. Would it really be that bad if she took some painkillers, just this once?

“The girl also said to give you this.” Steve held up a tub of chocolate-flavoured soya ice cream. “And this.”

He stood up, and hugged Saffron, placing a kiss on the top of her yellow-haired head. Saffron returned the hug, feeling better than she had all day.

“I thought that I could get two spoons,” Steve told her, murmuring the words into the top of her crown, “and a blanket, and we could sit in here and watch The Wizard of Oz together. How does that sound?”

Saffron giggled and looked up at her dad.

“That sounds divine,” she told him.

[mayflower437]

Of Flowers and Fiends

Hello! I’ve just published the prologue of a Snape’s daughter AU that I’ve been working on since last year. I’d really appreaciate any feedback! It’s also a self-indulgent excuse to try to improve some of Rowling’s ill-conceived ideas and worldbuilding.

Summary: A one-night stand between Lily and Severus leads to the birth of one Anthea Snape. Growing up in her father’s dreary hometown, she cannot wait to receive her letter and learn to wield her powers. But she soon learns the Wizarding World is not the magical refuge she thought it would be.

Read it on AO3 or FFN!

[pennywaltzy]

Mytasha, white, 13

With this story, "The Spy & The Spymaster" is now a series! I'm running out of time to answer 30 Day Writing Challenge fics, but this is an answer with the prompt "Write a scene that describes your MC well." I promise I'll finish this (and "The Spy & The Spymaster") soon!

White Wedding (An "Internationally Intriguing" Story) - Clint and Andrea get married, and Mycroft just wants to make sure everything goes off without a hitch.

READ CHAPTER 1 | SERIES PAGE

It was strange getting used to walking with a cane as opposed to his trusty umbrella, but the woman waiting at the end of the aisle made things considerably lighter in his life, even though she was full of secrets from the tips of her toes to the top of her head.

“You should have had your matron of honor and your bridesmaids wear a color other than white,” Mycroft said softly to the woman he was escorting down the flower strewn aisle while the attendees of the wedding stood and looked on.

“I still look the best, but white fit everyone’s skin tone,” she said. “I’m used to being in the shadows.”

“It’s your time to shine, Andrea,” he said. “You are the bride, after all.”

“All that matters is that Clint’s jaw dropped,” she said.

Mycroft chuckled. “Then you picked a worthy man to be your husband.”

“I’ll miss you, Mycroft,” she said when they got to the altar. She turned and hugged him.

He embraced her back. “I’ll still keep an eye on you,” he said. Then he turned to Clint. “Take care of her or I’ll sic MI-6 on you.”

“I will,” Clint said with a nod, and then Andrea moved to his side and took his hands and Mycroft watched him take a deep breath and smile at Andrea, a smile that promised he’d cherish her as long as he lived. She chose a good man, he thought to himself as he sat down and his gaze shifted to Natasha, who took Mary’s bouquet from her so Mary could take Andrea’s. She was flanked by Yelena and Molly, and even though this was simply the wedding of a government official and an Avenger, he knew there were snipers positioned around, from both MI-6 and SHIELD, and Yelena and Natasha both had knives on their person.

Just another normal wedding, nothing to stare at.

He settled in to watch the event but his gaze kept drifting to Natasha and his hand caressed the polished oak knob of his cane as he thought back to the events that had led to their relationship. He knew she still felt guilty that he had been shot, but time would lessen the guilt, and periodic reminders that he was otherwise a hale and healthy man would help. If those reminders were often in the bedroom...well, there were perks to dating a former ballet dancer.

The nuptials went by quickly and it was time for the newly minted husband and wife to kiss. Clint dipped Andrea and gave her a passionate kiss that she eagerly returned, and Mycroft felt more settled than he had in some time. There was still the reception to get through, but he didn’t anticipate any of the sniper teams would be needed tonight. Old enemies had been put to bed and new friendships, as well as romantic relationships, had come about.

All was well.