and it’s most likely categorically untrue but i just gotta say it
in milverton’s house sherlock refers to his cracksman/hacker associate aj raffles
this is a lovely little reference yes, but it’s a bit odd for sherlock to refer to their secret criminal associate by full name, right?? surely it would out aj raffles if that was their real name
which implies that aj raffles is a code name of some kind (hold this thought)
sherlock also describes aj raffles as “a friend. well. family really. a cousin.”
and who ELSE have we encountered that refers to themself and sherlock as (nonbiological) cousins??
which OTHER female characters have we encountered that have shown themselves to not be above bending the law to assist sherlock??
i posit to you, reader, that aj raffles might just be none other than our plucky young detective constable… lily lestrade
orrrrrr this might be bonkers nonsense
but as they drag me away and throw me into the thames for my madness remember that i was the one who told u first
(i also really hope this means we’ll get to meet this universe’s version of bunny manders and that she and lily are gfs ok bye)
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For @merthurmicrofic | Prompt: Kneel | Word Count: 1334
Arthur hated losing.
This was a truth as old as Camelot itself, a truth woven into the stone of the castle and the very shape of his smile. Arthur lost badly, with wounded dignity and endless complaints. He accused people of cheating. He demanded rematches. He insisted that the rules had somehow changed halfway through the game.
Which was why Merlin treasured every victory like a dragon hoarding gold.
The wager had begun over breakfast.
It had started, as most of Camelot's disasters did, with Arthur being unbearably smug.
"You couldn't beat me if your life depended on it," Arthur said.
Merlin looked up from his porridge.
"I beat you all the time," Merlin replied.
"You beat me once," Arthur argued.
"Three times," Merlin corrected.
"Once, Arthur insisted.
"Three," Merlin said.
"One," Arthur shot back.
"Gaius counted," Merlin said.
"Gaius is old," Arthur replied.
"Gwaine counted," Merlin added.
"Gwaine can't count," Arthur said.
And somehow, because neither of them possessed even the smallest instinct for self-preservation, this had spiralled into a competition involving archery, sword drills, horse racing, strategy games, and a final deciding round of dice that attracted half the knights and most of the servants as spectators.
The terms were simple:
If Arthur won, Merlin would do anything he asked.
If Merlin won, Arthur would do anything he asked.
The certainty in Arthur's face had been almost painful to witness. Merlin had nearly felt bad for him.
Hours later, standing in the middle of the courtyard surrounded by cheering knights, Merlin was trying extremely hard not to grin. Arthur was trying extremely hard not to look as though his entire worldview had collapsed.
"You cheated," Arthur accused.
"I didn't," Merlin said.
"You definitely cheated," Arthur said.
"I definitely didn't," Merlin replied.
Arthur pointed accusingly at the dice as though they had personally betrayed him.
"They're crooked," Arthur declared.
Leon picked them up.
"They're normal," Leon said.
Arthur pointed at Merlin.
"He's crooked," Arthur said.
"Thank you," Merlin said.
"That wasn't a compliment," Arthur replied.
The knights were laughing now.
Even Lance.
Even Percival.
Even Elyan, who was usually wise enough to stay out of arguments involving Arthur's pride.
Arthur crossed his arms. The posture was meant to look kingly. Unfortunately, it mostly looked like a sulking child refusing vegetables.
"Fine," he said.
Merlin brightened immediately. "Fine?"
"Fine," Arthur repeated. The word sounded physically painful.
"You won," Arthur admitted.
"I did," Merlin agreed.
Arthur glared. Merlin smiled wider. Arthur glared harder. Merlin somehow smiled even wider.
The courtyard collectively leaned closer.
Everyone wanted to know what Merlin would ask for.
Arthur was expecting something dreadful.
Perhaps weeks of chores. Maybe public humiliation. Possibly an entire speech about how wonderful Merlin was.
The possibilities were endless and horrifying.
Merlin pretended to think. He tapped his chin. He paced in a slow circle around Arthur. Arthur narrowed his eyes.
The knights were practically vibrating with anticipation.
Finally, Merlin stopped.
"Oh," Merlin said.
His face lit up.
The expression alone made Arthur suspicious.
"Oh no," Arthur said.
"Oh yes," Merlin replied.
"No," Arthur said.
Merlin's grin became absolutely unbearable.
"Arthur"
"Merlin"
"I know what I want," Merlin said.
Arthur sighed the sigh of a man approaching his own execution.
"What?" Arthur asked.
Merlin folded his arms.
Then, very carefully, very deliberately, he said:
"Kneel"
The courtyard exploded. Gwaine nearly fell over. Elyan doubled over laughing. Several servants made noises that suggested they might never recover.
Arthur stared. Merlin stared back.
The silence stretched.
"Kneel," Merlin ordered.
Arthur looked genuinely offended.
"I am the king," Arthur said.
"You're the loser," Merlin replied.
More laughter.
Arthur looked ready to outlaw joy itself.
"You cannot be serious," Arthur said.
"I am entirely serious," Merlin answered.
Arthur looked around desperately for support. He found none. Traitors. Every single one of them. Leon was visibly trying not to smile. Lance was failing. Even Gwen had appeared on a balcony and was covering her mouth with one hand.
Arthur looked back at Merlin. Merlin was standing there with sunlight caught in his dark hair, eyes bright with triumph, trying so hard to look authoritative and failing because there was laughter dancing at the corners of his mouth.
Arthur felt something in his chest soften. It happened often around Merlin. Far too often.
The thing was, Merlin wasn't asking for power. Everyone else might have. Many people would have used a victory like this to make a point. To prove something. To embarrass a king.
But Merlin looked delighted in exactly the way he had when they were younger, when they were both idiots and Arthur was still learning that the strange servant who followed him everywhere had somehow become the centre of his world.
Merlin simply wanted to win. Wanted proof that he had. Wanted this story. Wanted to spend the next decade reminding Arthur about it. Arthur could already hear it.
Remember that time I made the king kneel?
Remember that time everyone saw?
Remember that time you looked so miserable?
A lifetime of torment. Arthur was doomed. And somehow, looking at Merlin's face, he found that he didn't particularly mind. Because Merlin was laughing. Because he was happy. Because that expression was worth more than Arthur's dignity had ever been.
The realization settled over him with surprising ease.
There were very few things Arthur would not give Merlin: his loyalty, his trust, his life, his kingdom, if it came to it.
A bruised ego was hardly worth mentioning.
The courtyard had gone quiet again.
Everyone was waiting.
Arthur looked at Merlin.
Merlin lifted one eyebrow.
Arthur sighed dramatically.
Then he dropped to one knee. The reaction was immediate.
Cheers erupted from every corner of the courtyard. Someone actually whooped. Gwaine was definitely crying from laughter.
Arthur ignored them all.
Because Merlin had suddenly gone still. The grin remained. But something softer had slipped underneath it.
Arthur looked up.
And there it was.
The moment he always found himself chasing.
Merlin's surprise.
Merlin never expected things from him. Not really. Even now. Even after all these years. Even after countless battles and promises and impossible acts of faith. Some part of Merlin always seemed startled whenever Arthur chose him. Whenever Arthur stepped willingly toward him. Whenever Arthur gave him something without being forced.
Arthur looked at him from where he knelt.
The position should have felt ridiculous. Instead, it felt oddly natural. Because it was Merlin. Because if Merlin asked, Arthur would always answer.
Not because of the wager. Not because of the crowd. Not because he was trapped.
Simply because it was Merlin.
The devotion sat openly in Arthur's eyes, unhidden and unashamed.
And Merlin saw it. Arthur knew he saw it.
The laughter around them faded. Not literally. The knights were still making enough noise to wake dragons. But suddenly the world felt smaller.
Merlin swallowed. For one brief second, he looked completely undone.
As though Arthur had somehow turned the joke around. As though the victory had become something else entirely.
Arthur smiled, a small smile. Soft around the edges.
Merlin's expression immediately became suspicious.
"What?" Merlin asked.
Arthur's smile widened.
"What, what?" Arthur asked.
"Why are you looking at me like that?" Merlin asked.
"Like what?" Arthur replied.
"That," Merlin said.
Arthur considered.
Then, with absolute sincerity, said:
"You won."
Merlin's ears turned red.
"Oh, shut up," Merlin muttered.
Arthur laughed.
The sound was warm and bright and impossible to regret. And when Merlin finally offered him a hand to help him up, Arthur took it immediately. As though there had never been any question. As though there never would be.
The courtyard remembered the day as the day Merlin made the king kneel.
Arthur remembered it differently. Arthur remembered Merlin's triumphant smile. The way the sunlight caught in his hair. The startled softness that appeared when Arthur willingly gave him what he wanted. And most of all, Arthur remembered looking up from one knee and finding that the easiest thing in the world was loving him.
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the fact that we only have “herculean task” and “sisyphean task” feels so limiting. so here’s a few more tasks for your repertoire
icarian task: when you have a task you know you’re going to fail at anyways, so why not have some fun with it before it all comes crashing down
cassandrean task: when you have to deal with people you KNOW won’t listen to you, despite having accurate information, and having to watch them fumble about when you told them the solution from the start (most often witnessed in customer service)
feel free to chime in i ran out of ideas much faster than i anticipated
Promethean task: opposite of a Cassandraean task. You have the right information, and SOMEONE has to share it. But it's all in the delivery and if you're the person to identify the problem you WILL be hated forever.
Oedipal Task: (1) Attempting to avoid an unspeakably awful outcome and in doing so creating the circumstances that will bring it about.
(2) Trying to solve an problem and discovering that you are in fact the problem you are trying to solve.
damoclean task: the thing you've been putting off long enough that it becomes a constantly hanging doom over your head
pyrrhic task: you can get it done but it's going to cost you
medean task: you can get it done and you don't care what it costs you
dionysian task: task that might not be -better- if you do it drunk, but -will- definitely be more fun
hegelochic task: it was a simple job, but your name will be recorded in the annals of history for how impressively you fucked it up
task of theseus: a project for which the parameters have changed so many times that you're not sure it IS still the same task
gordian task: ok technically there Is a Right Way to do this but it's going to be fiddly and awful and take forever and what if. what if you just said fuck it. and started slicing
no no no put me back in the loop I almost did it perfect please put me back just a few more tries and I think I could really nail it please put me back
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and if i were to say “being alive” from company was a song for sherlock holmes to put john watson into words what then
someone to crowd you with love,
someone to force you to care,
someone to make you come through,
who’ll always be there, as frightened as you,
of being alive
and if i said i wasn’t done, if i said “being alive” from company was also a song for john watson to put sherlock holmes into words right back what THEN
Okay so imagine your best friend who you’ve been living with for over two years was in a coma and he almost died because one of your shared enemies shot him right and as he was losing consciousness he kept repeating your name over and over again (despite the fact that his other closest friends were also there) and it was almost the last thing he ever said and while he’s in the coma (which you still believe you could have prevented btw) you set out to find the person who shot him so that he can be brought to justice which leads you to be in a situation where you almost die right and so you tell your other best friend to tell him you love him when he wakes up from the coma and you say that if he too doesn’t make it you’ll tell him yourself. Anyways you survive and the night afterwards you finally manage to get to the man who shot him and you and your other best friend almost die (again) but your friend woke up from the coma while you were gone and comes to save you so in the end you’re all okay and happy. And then about two weeks later said best friend has his [insert whichever multisexuality label you headcanon him as here] awakening from your fucking BROTHER. I’d be so fucking pissed
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not to immediately just talk more about mycroft and sherlock but
“[Incredible exasperated noise] Maybe that’s why I find Mum so exhausting. She’s just another Sherlock Holmes… That was a joke, little one.”
“I know.”
“I like your friends.”
there’s something about the emphasis mycroft puts on that sentence, it’s not “i like your friends” as though he’s surprised sherlock has them or that he’s implying that those friends must find sherlock similarly exhausting because, well, he’s Sherlock Holmes, why wouldn’t they?
it’s “i like your friends,” it’s reassurance, in an awkward, roundabout older sibling way - suave, self-assured mycroft being genuine, within the parameters of the relationship they have now - it’s “your friends clearly like what they see in you” and “they’re different to us, and perhaps that’s good” and “just because something’s been broken here it’s not something inherently found in the way you’re built that’s broken it”. it’s “i’m glad you have somebody, little one, when we both know it hasn’t been (and can’t be) me.”
i’m overthinking mycroft in a really major way but as an older sibling……………. this exchange was Huge
(also it’s laying foundations for TFP in a way that’s making me a liiiiittle nervous)
