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symphonicmadness‌:

Unfinished Business || Sherlock + Irene

His phone rang just as he made his way out of the elevator. Mycroft had taken Holmwood from his home, while the son had been detained indefinitely at some location. Being as vague as ever, his older brother refused to say where, in case the tables turned and Sherlock somehow ended up in the hands of Holmwood’s men. That way, he couldn’t divulge the location of the boy, even under torture, and they still had a hold on the man.

Mycroft was delightfully thorough that way.

"And if he refuses to cooperate, we need to make it clear that his son will die,” he said, knowing that Mycroft understood that no matter what, the boy wouldn’t be harmed. As radical as the Holmes brothers were, they weren’t murderers, nor did they approve of collateral damage. 

His brother asked him if he was sure about this, and he nodded, even though Mycroft couldn’t see him. “He’s the last link to Moriarty’s network. I refuse to have my child in the same world where the consulting criminal’s influence exists.”

"My, aren’t we paternal, Sherlock. Don’t tell me she’s changed you,” Mycroft stated, and he could imagine the smug smile on the man’s face. 

"Just make sure our terms are clear. If anything else fails, I will do what needs to be done." Ending the call, he lowered the phone to his side, before slipping it back into his coat pocket. 

Although there were lingering doubts, he refused to let it get to him now. They were so close; months of running and being threatened all came down to this. 

                                                                                 [ goonimpressagirl ]

She knew that she was in no fit state to be following anyone, never mind a vengeful Sherlock... but Irene knew that it would all be over soon and Moriarty's network, gone. It's what they'd been working towards, its why everyone back in London thinks that they are both dead. It's what Sherlock had gone to end.

The black cars were pulling away when she got to the entrance of the hotel, 'at least they're not far' she thought, before stepping out to call for a cab. Less than 10 seconds passed and she was on her way... The cab driver tailed behind the black car carefully, "Your husband?"  Irene looked to the driver, "Sorry?" "In the black car." Of course he thought she was following her husband... 

Before she could answer, the cab came to a stop. When she looked out of the window she noticed 50 ft down the road the black cars had parked and the men, including Sherlock, stepped out.

Without thinking Irene handed the driver money and stepped out of the car. Pacing forward slowly, but just as her foot touched the ground a sharp cramp rose over her and crippled her to the spot. Her hands wrapped around her bump and she looked up to see Sherlock had already gone.

[ damagedand-delusional ]

Power Play || Irene + Sherlock

In a way, she was right. Less photographs of him in various states of undress - and who knew how many photos she’d taken of him since she’d decided that 221B was ‘home’ - was better. While he doubted the CIA would pay for photographs of him, the tabloids certainly would. They’d given Janine more than enough to buy her a cozy cottage away from the city.

Unlike Magnussen’s personal assistant, however, he knew that Irene wouldn’t stoop that low.

Sherlock shook his head, reassuring his landlady that he and Irene weren’t - hadn’t been - doing anything. The dominatrix’s fingers were soft against his skin, and he narrowed his eyes at her as she made her way back to the bedroom. 

"Client?" he asked Mrs. Hudson, as if nothing had happened. 

Mycroft’s footsteps thumped on the stairs and Sherlock groaned loudly, glad that Irene was at least out of the way. 

           [For how long?] 

The temptation to stick a chair under the doorknob of the bedroom was strong, but even his brother would know something was up if he did that. Just as the government official stepped inside, thanking Mrs. Hudson, he crossed his arms and raised his eyebrows slowly.

"What is it this time, Mycroft? Another runaway delegate? A missing socialite?"

She left the living room with a strong smile on her face, she always jumped at the chance to leave Sherlock Holmes in some kind of compromising position, although she did find it hard, he was the one who went to Buckingham Palace in nothing but a bed sheet.

...but Mycroft...

She knew, perhaps more than anyone that the Detective despised having to explain himself to his older brother.

                         - {all part of the fun}  

As clear as days she heard the distinct voice of Mycroft Holmes, she pulled out her phone, 

[text] It's boring in here, lets have dinner. - IA

Upon hitting send, Irene slipped out of the shirt and into one of her dresses. It was then that she took one of her usual routes out, through the window. She left the shirt sitting on the bed, smelling of nothing but her own perfume. 

Deductions + Seduction || Adlock

{ ℋ } ;; ——-

                    ░░ ▀▀ ░░ Sentiment. What sentiment?                                    Pulse racing…no, no, that’s telling.                                    Remove both sources and all she has is speculation. Sherlock slipped his hand from hers and stood, clasping both hands behind his back. “Yes, continue to feel for that racing pulse, Miss Adler. I can tell you’ve formed a strange ᴀғғɪɴɪᴛʏ for it.”

[ goonimpressagirl ]

When he stood a wave of accomplishment washed over. Sherlock Holmes never back down from anything, but on the extremely rare occasion that he did, she took enormous pleasure from it. "it's not that Mr Holmes, I just like proving you wrong."

Behind Closed Doors | Asylum AU [Irene + Khan]

The expression on his face could only be considered as disgust. He knew John had several female friends, but on the whole had remained fiercely loyal to Irene. It was one feature of the man that he liked, and was probably one of the few saving graces that he had in the first place. 

"No it wouldn’t. I suspect that her idea of ‘coming over’ involves something more…physical." He disliked the idea of any woman touching him besides The Woman. Her name alone spoke volumes. She wasn’t ‘a woman’ or ‘the woman’; she was the woman. The sensation another female’s touch had on his skin was similar to ants crawling under his skin. Despicable and a pestilence. 

That was why he raised no objections when she kissed him lightly on the cheek, humming a soft ‘hm’ before discarding his jacket on the armchair close to the door. Katherine’s text arrived shortly after, where she said that she was only a few minutes away. He smiled, answering the door within seconds of the first ring of the bell.

While The Woman was nowhere to be found, he knew that whatever she was planning was going to be…artistically brutal. 

"Katherine. How nice of you to drop by."

She couldn't help but let the smile spread over her face, the night was about to get very interesting. But for now it was time to get ready... into battle. 

The Dominatrix walked the length of her closet and she approached a second set of doors, doors that no one but her and Khan knew about. She'd worked hard to make sure Irene and John were never exposed to what she kept hidden beyond. Irene, she knew, would throw an attempt to destroy everything. Her idea of a normal life.  "But where is the fun in that?"

The lights flickered on, and The Woman's lips pursed as she stepping inside. There were multiple monitors displaying the many hidden CCTV cameras around the house, there were brackets precisely mounted along two of the four walls, displaying many different tools, from riding crops to the sharpest of blades to pierce the skin in every which way. Then, there was her pride and joy stretched across the entirety of the back wall. A glass cabinet. 

She walked towards it, her heels clicking on the tiled floor. It was a trophy cabinet... her version of one. Filled with every single souvenir she and Khan had collected.

Just as she was about to add their latest she heard Khan speak... Moving over to the camera she was now fully aware of who had just shown up at the front door. 

"It's time." 

                     {"Please don't do this..."}

"Be quiet sweet girl, there's nothing you can do now."

250+ (100x100 static) rp icons of Lara Pulver in her roles as Erin Watts from Spooks.  I got Photoshop happy and Erin obsessed, so I felt I should share.  Specifically made with myself, xwhiphand, misireneadler, goonimpressagirl, and scandalous-irene in mind.  But anyone may use. Like or reblog if you do use.

Notes:  The numbering of the icons mixed up during editing, so the icons are numbered but scrambled.  I apologize for the chaos.  I made these in a domestic mindset, since my AU Irene falls into that category of roleplay.  If any of you that I tagged have absolutely no use for these, I understand, and I will be glad to make you icons from another source.  Just ask!  Hope you enjoy! <3

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