meowdk:

fuchsimeon:

gothiccharmschool:

morrissarty:

raptorific:

Strange crossover headcanon: M is Sherlock and Mycroft’s mother, Miliscent Messervy-Holmes. 

HEADCANON ACCEPTED

YES. YES, THIS PLEASES ME. Someone write it. 

Oh god YES!

sakibatch:

littlemisshamish:

life-as-an-angel-condom:

John wouldn’t want his nightmares to end.

“John.”

His voice again. The voice that had once told me that I’m an idiot, the voice that spoke the most brilliant deductions, the voice that once called me a friend. And now it’s here. Haunting me. Mocking me. Reminding me that I would never hear it again—not while I’m awake, not while I’m alive.

If only I could hear that voice for the last time—to tell me that everything will be all right, that I could move on, that he is in a better place, and that maybe, just maybe, someday, we will meet again. If only..

I open my eyes.

His face. Thin, pale, aged. But it is his face that I see in front of me. I was wrong. I hadn’t opened my eyes. I’m still dreaming. But this dream is so much sweeter than the rest. For in those dreams I see his face, but not the face that I have known. Not the face that I thought I would see for the rest of my life. In those dreams there was blood. Where there was life, there is death. Where there was light, there is only darkness.

But in this dream, he is very much alive that I can almost feel him. Dear God, remember when I asked you to let me live? I take it ba—

I feel him press his lips against mine.

“John.”

As I wrap my arms around his neck and feel him kiss my tear-stained cheeks, I know. This isn’t a dream. This is real. The only reality I have ever known.

“Welcome back, Sherlock.”