#and before anyone gets after me about solving trauma through kink

[thisisareallymeaningfulurl]

You know, I’ve never been a big fan of Korekiyo as a character post Ch3 but talking about him with my boyfriend has really changed my feelings about him a lot. Where I once saw someone unforgivable and undoubtedly evil, I see someone who has endured terrible things and who, in any other circumstance, could have one day healed from the things he’s been through and lived a happier life. Anyways I’ve been writing an outline for our fic all day and I’m realizing he might be my favorite character to write for in it

[clean-bands-dirty-stories]

The Best Things ~ J.V. (part 12)

A/n: I would like to apologize for not marking warnings on each part like I should have been. I get too excited to post and skip over them on accident. I’ll do my best to add them from here on! Also, I was adding the warnings as I wrote but then they didn’t save so I tried to remember them as best I could. If I forgot anything, I sincerely apologize.

Warnings: Recounting past trauma (physical abuse, homophobia), explicit talk of death, badly handling others’ trauma, light smut (foreplay: slapping, choking, degradation, daddy kink, handcuff restraining, brat/dom dynamic, punishing, teasing, masterbation)

Word Count: 5200+

MASTERLIST

The air was so thick with tension that a knife could have cut through it. No matter how much Harley was fighting his instincts to lounge and be himself - the self Jeremiah was used to, at the very least - he felt like he had to be the self he used to be. The one Bruce was expecting. Jeremiah knew Harley was trying too hard, and Jeremiah was far too easy to read - which meant that Bruce knew too. So Harley sat there trying to behave and Bruce sat there brimming with suspicion and pain and hesitation and Jeremiah sat between the two boys, wishing this had never happened and he could just escape the two brothers who seemed seconds from either running or fighting.

Echo, as if sent from God, walked into the room with a pitcher of water. They were at Jeremiah's instead of Wayne manor as Harley had absolutely no intention of being back there or anywhere near Alfred. The butler was far too good at accepting change, which meant that the man might pick up on the fact that Harley was no longer Y/n and the whole thing would fall apart. Honestly, it seemed like so much work. Harley wasn't sure why this plan was so important but Jerome was feeding off of it so Harley did it anyway because he'd said he would. If this is where Jerome lead, Harley would follow.

"So," Echo cut into the silence as she walked around pouring drinks. "How is everyone this evening?"

Harley smiled at her, amused. She was poorly hiding a sort of awkward expression that was dashed with a little humor. She was mocking them in her head; Harley could almost hear what she was thinking. A bunch of dumb boys sitting around a table unable to swallow their pride. Idiots. "Oh you know," Harley mumbled casually, shrugging. "Indulging." He motioned to his food but his words were obviously directed at the ambiance.

"Having a good time?" Echo asked.

"Not at all," Harley immediately answered with the same casual, chipper tone. Jeremiah choked on his drink as he laughed at the exchange. The humor delivered saltiness in Harley's voice and the passive aggressive mocking in Echo's had always been an exchange that could make Jeremiah chuckle at least a little. Echo and Harley were very good at banter and it lightened the mood significantly every time they went at it. After all, it was just in good fun. Bruce seemed to relax as a smile curled everyone else's lips. "So... Harley." His lips seemed to want to reject the name.

Harley's smile dropped. Hearing Bruce call him that made him uncomfortable. Not just because he was nervous about Bruce not calling him Y/n as he had all up until this point but because he had cut Bruce out of this new life very purposefully and now... he was in it anyway. "Yes?"

Echo sighed and left the room as she sensed Harley jerk back, even with her attempt to loosen everyone up. Jeremiah focused on his food. Bruce looked at Harley but Harley did not look back, instead choosing to stare at the door Echo had gone through. "Why Harley?"

That was an easy question. "When I was in Arkham, a few of the guards used to beat the shit out of me every single day to try and convince me to be straight." Harley looked Bruce in the eye when he said this, completely calm. He had long since gotten over it. "They even put me in isolation to keep me away from people who might protect me or care about me."

"Jerome." Bruce didn't form it like a question.

Harley answered anyway. "Yes. But see this is a smaller world than everyone thought and my therapist, Harleen Quinzel, became my friend instead. She's like me, but for girls." Bruce nodded, accepting that. "They couldn't kill me without having to mark me as a loss. That and they'd have lost their punching bag. To teach me a lesson, they killed her. And then made sure the TV that was never supposed to be on the news would be on the news, on just the channel and at just the time that would allow me to see her bloody, bruised, cold, dead body strewn out for the public to see. And no one gave a single shit because no crimes in Gotham get solved unless someone important is involved. And even then- well, you know first hand."

Bruce's expression grew very dark. "I didn't know."

"Of course you didn't," Harley purred, still eating as if he was talking about the weather.

Jeremiah has stopped eating. "People are really like that?" His voice was small and his eyes moved to Bruce, his hands tightening around his silverware as if picturing Bruce's face cold and dead and staring at him through a TV. Bruce felt his eyes and looked back to Jeremiah, but the red head averted his gaze to Harley instead. "I mean, people really act like that just because of... how someone loves?"

Harley nodded, swallowing the food in his mouth. It tasted like sand but he kept eating it. It made him feel powerful to while the others in the room had forgotten their food altogether. Although... Perhaps he hadn't chewed it as well as he thought because it felt as if it had gotten stuck somewhere along the way. A thick lump had lodged for a second and a sick feeling had settled in the bottom of his stomach. He hadn't thought about that image in so long... the daily bearings and the isolation and the one ray of light he'd gotten being extinguished and displayed because he had dared to be himself and therefore allowed her to do the same. Because they were different than how most people were.

"Do you know who did it?" Bruce asked.

"Yeah." That didn't seem to be the answer Bruce was expecting. "This isn't great table conversation," Harley eased, changing the subject. "But that is why I go by Harley. Do you like it?"

Bruce shrugged. "Do you still go by Wayne?"

Internally, Harley sighed. "Harley Quinn."

At that Bruce nodded. "You're not coming back are you?"

Harley laughed dryly. "You're not very good at casual, light conversation are you Brucey?"

"Don't call me that," Bruce snapped, body going stiff.

Rolling his eyes, Harley sat back in his seat. "Why not?" It came out harsher than Harley had meant it.

Meeting hostility with hostility, Bruce got angry as well. "Because that's what Jerome called me, and after how many times he tried to kill me it's not a name I like."

"Get over it," Harley sneered. "It's just a name and we're in Gotham. Trauma is kind of a part of life here. Adapt or get trampled."

Bruce jerked back. "Get over it? Since when are you...?" He trailed off, as if hesitating, before his face set and he finished his sentence with a much harder tone. "Like Jerome."

Harley felt his knuckles turn white. "Stop saying that like it's a bad thing." "It is!" Bruce hissed.

Harley shot to his feet, dropping his silverware on the table. Jeremiah flinched but Harley didn't notice. Bruce did. "Look, Jerome is fucked up and dark and broken. He doesn't have a grip on reality or know how to human because he wasn't fucking treated like one. He killed people. He was crazy and insane and unhinged and dangerous. Yeah! You know what else he was? He was understanding and accepting. He got why people lived their lives differently than he did and didn't really judge anyone, ever. He thought they were boring and chose to live differently, sure, but he lived to make people laugh and have fun. Maybe his sense of fun was fucked up, but he genuinely just wanted people to laugh along with him for once. He didn't hide who he really was. He wasn't ashamed. He didn't shun me and shove me in a corner and try to change me. He accepted who I was. He CELEBRATED me. I'd rather be with him than at this stupid fucking dinner or anywhere near you because I'm not some poor gay boy who needs saving. I'm strong and I matter and I FINALLY love myself, and you won't ever take that away from me because you see self respect and see Jerome because no one taught you that you are more important than everyone else. I refuse to sit here and let you try and turn me into some pathetic whiny brooding mess who's never happy because my priorities are fucked up. I won't be you. That isn't my goal anymore."

The room was dead quiet. For a long time, no one said anything. The brothers just stared each other down until Bruce shook his head. "Perhaps this was a bad idea."

Jeremiah pinched the bridge of his nose. "You guys are idiots." The other two in the room looked at the red head with shock. "My brother is dead, and honest to god it's a relief that he is. He's out of my life and I'm safe from him. I never had the chance to have a real relationship with him. I used to read the newspaper about your family and think that you guys were some kind of dream. Two brothers that loved each other despite everything and parents that were like... actually good people on any level." He sighed. "Obviously I was wrong. You're too busy trying to make him how he used to be." This he directed at Bruce. "And you're too busy hurting and bottling up your emotions and pushing everyone away to let anyone care about you or see the real you." This was for Harley. Jeremiah didn't stop when both other boys went to speak though. "Just shut up and make this work because you guys are the only true family you each have left. Harley, you grew up and I have to say you wear your changes very well. You're happier and sturdier and if someone isn't happy about that then they're insane. Right, Bruce?"

The Wayne boy hesitated before giving in. "Yeah. I am happy for you. I should have started with that. I just... I'm scared for you."

"Why?" Harley demanded, exasperated.

"Because I don't want you to become Jerome. I don't want you to end up like that. I don't want you to be some criminal, when you used to be the best person I knew. You said your life goal used to be being like me? No. I wanted so much to be like you. You couldn't speak about a huge part of you, but you accepted it with the knowledge no one else ever would. I refused to even look at the fact that I'm attracted to guys until you and Jerome got together and then..." his eyes shot to Jeremiah and then back. "Things happened and- and you were always so bright and happy and free. Like a bird in flight or- something." He shook his head. "You were inspiring, Y/n. Seeing you like this... it looks like you've been broken. And I just want to bring back that light you had before. When you seemed so much happier."

"I'm not broken." Harley looked at the boy who was supposed to be his brother. The boy who used to be his best friend before one lie after another had pulled them further and further apart until they were on completely opposite sides. Secrets had torn their relationship up into so many little bits it could never be repaired. They were just too different now. "I'm not lost or struggling. I'm just not... sitting there and pretending all the bad things aren't happening. The friends I have now actually like and respect me as a person, not just because I'm Y/n Wayne. I'm myself, proudly, and I wear my experiences as a reminder of what I can endure. Things hurt less. What you see isn't some poor boy waiting to be saved. It's darkness. And maybe that scares you, because you're used to hiding your darkness. But darkness, Bruce, isn't a bad thing. Darkness is what makes us who we are. Like everything it can be used as a weapon, but Darkness itself isn't dangerous. What you do with it is."

Bruce considered that for a long time. "That... is a good point."

Jeremiah released a breath. "So... truce?" The boys looked at each other before shrugging. Harley sat back down. Jeremiah seemed pleased. "Okay, now lets talk about something a little more pleasant."

"So you mean literally anything other than what any of us have been up to recently?" Harley sassed. Jeremiah shot him a look. "Okay fine whatever." He searched for some light conversation. "So you guys are like boyfriends now or what?"

That seemed to make Bruce and Jeremiah both blush and the air in the room cleared significantly. Harley pulled off being cheery and invested as he teased and prodded and asked questions and engaged. Things almost seemed like they used to be when Bruce and Y/n would sit with their parents and Bruce mentioned a girl and Y/n would go off about how he was going to be the best man or the world would surely end... but Harley wasn't Y/n and Jeremiah wasn't their parents. This wasn't Wayne Manor and as good of a server as Echo was, she wasn't a butler. She wasn't Alfred.

Under the light tone, Harley formed a plan. A plan he carried out as he and Bruce began to hang out more and more as time passed that night and stretched for a while. Jerome became nocturnal in favor of being awake when Harley finally returned at home. The boys would spend some time together and then sleep and then Harley would wake up and go out and spend time with Bruce and Jeremiah again. Slowly the time with the other boys began to cut into Harley's time with Jerome and both he and Harley were getting restless. They'd begun arguing about it.

"Stay in tonight," Jerome whined.

"Bruce wants me to come back to Wayne manor tonight." Harley sighed, an odd expression on his face. "I've finally earned his trust and am getting along with him - as much as it pains me. I think Jeremiah is talking to him when I'm not around, convincing him to behave and respect my boundaries. He calls me Harley and has stopped expecting me to be the person I used to be. I don't know, I think he'll be enough to convince Alfred though I might have to try a tad harder." He rubbed his forehead. "Soon I'm sure I'll be chummy with them again and that'll definitely lead to interacting with all of Bruce's friends - which will be a whole other adventure of its own."

Jerome huffed. "If you're going back to Wayne manor, won't Bruce want you to move back in?"

The thought had occurred to Harley if he was being honest. Where did he draw the line in being buddy buddy with his brother again? Where did he stop things? How far did Jerome want him to go? "Probably," Harley voiced, shrugging. There was a long pause. Jerome was more guarded than he usually was and it set Harley on edge. When the red head did speak, it was in a dangerously quiet tone. "Would you go?"

"W- would you want me to?" Harley was distracted by the way Jerome's Adam's Apple moved when he swallowed.

Jerome hummed. "So this is still about what I want?"

That made Harley defensive. "You think I'm dealing with my arrogant brother because I want to?" It had a biting edge to it.

"And what about my brother?" Jerome pushed.

Now Harley was confused. "Jerome I did all of this for you. To convince them you were dead so you'd be free to have some free time and then make your grand entrance whenever you wanted to. I did this because you asked me to." Jerome rolled his eyes. "You've been gone a lot. You come home... lighter. You enjoy your time with them."

"I'm sorry, you WANT me to come home miserable?" Harley sneered, his hands coiling into fists.

Jerome's eyes darkened. Harley realized what was happening. Before he could react, Jerome's hand shot out, fingers curling around Harley's throat. Jerome pressed his boyfriend against the closest wall, his face close and words sharp like knives. "You're getting angry again. Talking to me like that, as if I'm one of our dumb brothers or that blonde idiot Jeremiah carries around. You might have been gone for a while now, but SURELY not long enough to have forgotten to respect me."

Harley gasped, eyes fluttering closed. Jerome's grip wasn't dangerous but it could go that way if Harley wasn't careful. Jerome only ever got like this when he was frustrated. Usually when he was bored and wanted to do something other than sit around. To be fair, he was cooped up which was something he HATED to be. He hated feeling trapped. And on top of that Harley had been spending less and less time around the place. It was a miracle the redhead had behaved so long. Harley had spent more nights with Jeremiah, talking to Bruce so late into the night and fake catching up and playing nice that it was just easier for them both stay at Jeremiah's. Alfred had even gotten used to a simple text from Bruce letting the older man know where he was and that he was safe. If Bruce wasn't home by 10pm Alfred had come to expect that he wouldn't be back at all. It had become a sort of habit.

Perhaps Harley had been a tad neglectful.

He sighed, letting his guard down and releasing all the tension he'd gained from being around Bruce. Jerome didn't deserve this. "I'm sorry, you're right." Jerome didn't let up. "Oh so you shoot me puppy dog eyes and say sorry and that's supposed to be it?" Harley could feel his insides warming as Jerome grew closer, the air in the room slowly becoming infected with sexual tension. The sudden mood change was hard for Y/n to switch gears to, even though he was immediately eager. "You've forgotten who you belong to."

"I-"

Jerome's hand tightened on Harley's throat, cutting off any attempt to speak. "What was that?" Harley coughed a little as the initial shock took him off guard. His eyes fluttered but he could still breathe which is what mattered. "Come on, Harley. Come on, Y/n." Harley jerked at the name. "Is that what you want me to call you? Is that who you want to be?"

Harley wasn't dealing with that shit. His body jerked, arms wrapping around Jerome. He pulled hard, twisting to turn Jerome around so he'd have to let Harley go, or risk hurting his arm. As predicted, Jerome let go. Harley twisted their bodies with extreme force, pushing Jerome's face into the wall aggressively. "What the fuck did you call me?" He growled. The words were raw from his throat being a little sore. It made Jerome smile. "Answer me. Now." Harley let his free hand thread into Jerome's hair. He pulled, the red head squirming underneath him as it began to hurt. "I said, now."

"I called you Y/n," Jerome answered softly. His tone was half reluctance and half defiance. He didn't want to answer Harley like he'd been told to, but saying the name again did give him power.

Harley leaned back, pulling Jerome away from the wall just by his hair. He dragged him over to the bed. "Kneel. Now." Jerome was giggling as Y/n hurt him, getting off on the pain. "NOW, Valeska!" Jerome smirked, taking his precious time with following the order. When he was down, Y/n maneuvered his face into the bed. "Stay there. If you move, I will know and you will be punished. I will be back in a moment." He left Jerome there, ducking out of the bedroom to the trunk in the bathroom, shoved in the closet. He opened it, pushing around some things they'd collected in their time together. This was the stuff they used when things got more kinky. Handcuffs Jerome had gotten from cops even before he and Y/n were together. Rope from a construction sight. Some things were specifically from sex stores - stolen of course.

Ignoring most of it, Harley grabbed the handcuffs and went back into the room. He returned to see Jerome had indeed moved. In fact he was sitting on the edge of the bed, leaning back on his hands. He was smirking at Harley, a dare in his eyes. The red head seemed to be expecting Harley to lose his shit, but Harley didn't. Instead, he got very still, thinking. That seemed to actually make Jerome nervous.

Slipping the handcuffs into his back pocket, Harley slowly approached Jerome. His eyes cut into Jerome's soul, his jaw so tightly shut that Jerome shivered. "What, you think you're going to look at me and-?"

Jerome didn't get to finish his sentence. Out of nowhere, unexpectedly, Harley backhanded Jerome, causing the sitting boy's head to snap to the side. The red head was shocked, but found his stomach twisting with the familiar sensation of arousal. This wasn't like when he was a kid. Harley was calm and controlled - even his hit was direct. There was a safety in the way that Harley controlled himself. Jerome didn't fear him. It left room to enjoy what was happening. Harley gripped Jerome's jaw, bringing the red head's brown eyes around to meet his. "What did I say when I left the room, Jerome?" Harley not using a pet name in a sexual situation made Jerome shift nervously. Was Harley actually mad? "You told me not to move."

Harley released a breath, smirking as he got turned on just by getting Jerome to answer his question without being pushed. When Jerome was being bratty, he refused Harley any amount of control. So when he let up even the smallest amount, it never failed to excite Harley. "And what did you do?" Unwilling to let Harley win twice in a row, Jerome shrugged. Harley slapped him again. The red head blinked, breathing sharply outward as he felt the stinging on his face. "I moved."

A hum came from Harley as he stood, crossing his arms. "You know I had to punish you for using the wrong name, but it was going to be pretty light. Now..." Jerome shivered under that look - like Harley was trying to figure just how to kill him. "I'm going to take your clothes off Jerome. If you fight me, you'll get immediate punishment do you understand?" Jerome nodded. Harley rose an eyebrow.

"Yes, Daddy."

That seemed to please Harley. He stopped glaring at least. First Harley removed Jerome's shirt. Then he gently nudged Jerome, and the redhead followed the flow and laid back on the bed. Harley then removed his pants, and his socks one at a time. Slowly. Jerome felt himself get antsy. "Do you want something, baby?" Harley asked evenly.

"I'm fine," Jerome responded.

Unfortunately for him, his erection gave him away. "You don't want me to do... anything?" Harley asked again, pausing to look at Jerome very carefully.

The redhead looked back for a long time, a battle happening between the two men. Jerome lost. "Jesus Christ Harley, touch me."

That got Harley to smile. "Ask nicely J, or I'm going to have to punish you." Jerome went to glare but Harley reached up, threading his fingers through Jerome's hair and pulling roughly. "Listen here bitch, I'm not here to mess around. You're going to listen to me or you're going to regret it, understand?" They had come a long way since having sex in a cell and trying to keep quiet. Back then, Harley had fumbled and blushed a lot and been overwhelmed very easily. Back then, Jerome would stretch out, getting comfortable as he bossed Harley around - a true power bottom. Or, he would top, and then he'd get very soft and quiet and affectionate... Well, compared to how he usually was when he was impossible to please and degrading to an extent that had driven Harley insane.

Now adays, things were different. There was a huge power play between the two men constantly, and endlessly pushing buttons. What would often happen was that Harley would be a bit of a brat but otherwise let Jerome blow off steam, unless it was a day that Jerome desperately wanted Harley to "take hold and ruin" him. A direct quote from the ginger. On those days, Jerome did what he did best: he kept talking. He said all the things he knew would piss off Harley the most, like calling him by his old name. He would make Harley snap and then Harley would retaliate exactly how he wanted.

Not today.

"Fuck, you're such a baby," Jerome grumbled, rolling his eyes. "I'm bored with you playing daddy, I already know all your moves and we both know that you're just going to give me what I want anyways. You're a soft top, Sweetheart." He was smirking, proudly flaunting the power he usually had over Harley.

Today though, Jerome had pushed him too much. After all the shit he'd gone through with Jeremiah and Bruce, hearing Jerome call him Y/n had pushed him in a way that had sent him over the edge. And if he was being honest, he had his own frustrations. He wanted to run free as much as Jerome did and break things and scream as loudly as he wanted and sock his stupid brother in his face any time he dare even mention Jerome's name in Harley's presence. He was tired of behaving. He was tired of feeling like some toy. He was tired of being used. He was really, REALLY fucking tired of being ignored, too.

Harley's smile was dangerous. Jerome looked at him, unsure of what was going through the other boy's head. "You know, you have a little too much attitude for someone who's currently desperate for me to touch him. You want something from me? You need to learn some respect." Harley reached over, grabbing Jerome's wrist and forcing it toward the top of the bed. It happened so fast that only when Harley had used one cuff to get Jerome's right hand, and then had threaded the second cuff through the bars at the head of the bed, did Jerome react.

"HEY!"

At the outburst, Harley didn't hesitate to slap Jerome again. The redhead gasped, body shivering. He would absolutely never admit it, but this kind of aggression had always turned him on, when he was comfortable with the person. He'd wanted someone to be like this with him for ages, but not many people were willing to go far enough to please Jerome Valeska. By the way Harley was looking at him right now, this time might be different.

"I didn't give you permission to speak. Granted, I didn't tell you to shut up either so I'll be forgiving, but if you shout at me one more time you will regret it." He gripped Jerome's other wrist, cuffing that as well. Now Jerome's hands were over his head, trapped by the cuffs and the bar. "If you want to say something, I want you to address me first. I will allow you to continue then. Or I will not." Jerome hesitated, then nodded, intrigued by this side of Harley even he had not the pleasure of exploring before.

What came next surprised Jerome. Harley didn't take him right there, rough and hot. He didn't move slowly around and tease until Jerome wa a desperate mess of begs and whimpers. Harley didn't touch him at all. In fact, he moved off of the bed completely. He left the room even, returning a moment with a chair. Only then did he undo his own clothes, only lowering his pants enough to allow himself access his erection. He didn't even pull his pants off all the way! Jerome felt completely exposed, tied up and naked for viewing pleasure, when Harley was so far away and completely dressed.

To Jerome's intense frustration, Harley sat down on the chair and began stroking himself, eyes on Jerome. Harley's eyes were wide and lust blown, his tongue flicking out every once in a while to wet his lips. After a while, his eyes fluttered shut and his head tilted back just a little as a small moan came from him.

Jerome shifted. He was getting uncomfortable with how long he'd been hard without being touched, and watching Harley be like this was not helping. Jerome really liked to be involved in sexual acts. He had gotten rather pouty anytime Harley was caught masterbating, and there had been an unspoken rule that Harley didn't really restrain Jerome for stuff like this. If Harley wanted to be touched, Jerome would touch him. They both preferred it that way. This was ridiculous, and frankly rude. Jerome wasn't going to give Harley the upper hand. This was a low blow and he wasn't going to let Harley get away with it.

As Harley continued though, getting more into it and completely ignoring Jerome, it was becoming increasingly hard to keep his mouth shut. Trying to play it off like he didn't care as much as he did, Jerome finally spoke up. It had seemed an eternity for him, but it had actually only been a few seconds and Harley had to swallow his smile to not give himself away. "Okay Harley, very funny. Let me touch you. I'm sorry I called you the other name. You know I can do this better than you can. Let me out." When Harley continued to ignore Jerome, the cuffed ginger raised his voice. "LET ME OUT!"

"Why?" Harley growled, eyes finally on Jerome again. "Because you told me to? Because you asked me to?" He stood, pulling his pants up again. "I'm not your little bitch Jerome, you're mine. You want to kill someone? Fine. You want to steal or break something? Fine! But you don't call me by that name. You don't mess with me, because I'm all you got. If you want me to leave, you ask like a big kid."

Jerome's lips twitched, slowly rising into a smile. "Are you actually mad at me?"

Harley grinned. "No, not really." They both cracked up, losing it for a few extended seconds. Then Harley cut off and Jerome faded into quiet, soft chuckles as Harley began to speak. "I respect you, J. My little joker." He moved towards the bed, caressing Jerome's cheek. The ginger leaned into the touch, his eyes closing. He fed off of the contact, as if it was a drug or he was starving and the gesture fed him. Harley smiled softly. "You gotta respect me too. You don't have to piss me off to get me to break you, joker. All you have to do is ask me nicely, like a good boy. Do all the bad things you want. But not to me."

A sigh escaped Jerome, and then he finally gave in. "If I behave will you let me out? I want you to touch me. Please."

That pleased Harley. "That's what I wanted to hear." He leaned back a little, eyes scanning Jerome's exposed body. "I will let you out. And then it's time to play for real." His eyes glinted with a darkness that made Jerome jerk in expectation. Needless to say, Harley didn't disappoint.

-

Story Tags: @wanna-plan-world-domination​

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Weird q..but i really dont understand why most fans hate season 4, especially the last episode. Why? I think it gave us a deeper look on both sherlock and mycroft! I felt it tells a lot about mycroft how he had to step in and take control of things ever since he was a kid himself. Also he is not a robot or a killer. Also redbeard thing. It was an appropriate deep psychological trauma (cause most shows usually disappoint in that area). I am not trying to impose my opinion. Just want to understand

Hey Nonny!

It’s all good, and I totally respect your opinion and how you enjoyed S4! It’s totally okay! I know that there are quite a few who got a lot of of S4, and who genuinely enjoyed it.

Sadly, I am not one of those people, and I’ll try to be as diplomatic a possible in my response, but PLEASE know that I don’t think you’re “terrible” or “stupid” for liking S4 because I DO get passionate sometimes in my responses, and I’m just merely speaking as someone who studied the series very closely for quite a long time before S4 aired, and as someone who knows Day-One-ers (ie., people who watched Sherlock on its day one airdate) who also are a large majority of the people who did not like S4. This is just me simply stating why I didn’t like it, but it’s different for everyone.

Stating what I DO like: The acting and cinematography of the first two episodes were brilliant for what they had to work with, and I’ve never faulted any of the actors for the flaws of S4. And for TFP, they did the best with what they had to work with.

That’s… pretty much all I really liked about S4.

Now, here’s my problems with S4:

Nothing made a LICK of sense to the narrative that they were telling in Seasons prior. 

This series was always based a bit in reality, and suddenly everything became comic-book rules: X-Men villains, shitty “redemption” arc, destroying favourite characters just for drama, ludicrous physics, explosions that only destroyed one small room in an apt where in previous episodes one explosion destroyed an entire block, etc.

Sherlock was OOC.

Mary was being built up to be a fantastic villain? Ah, nope, here’s the lacklustre twist where tee hee Mary’s just an assassin with a heart of gold that still emotionally abuses Sherlock and John and just won’t fucking stay dead.

And speaking of this, the DVD’s make NO LOGICAL SENSE unless she was planning to kill herself

AND she tries to make her death equatable to Sherlock’s??

Everyone was RIDICULOUSLY out of character in TFP, I’m so sorry: Mycroft is a bumbling coward for the most part, Sherlock disregards John when he gives the Vatican Cameos warning, the Holmes Parents are assholes because Mycroft COULDN’T SOLVE A PROBLEM WHEN HE WAS 12?? ARE YOU SERIOUS???? And that creepy Moriarty / Eurus thing, and LITERALLY they’re implying that EVERYTHING HAPPENED BECAUSE EURUS DIDN’T GET A HUG. Like, I’m so sorry, but that’s lazy writing.

And don’t even get me started on the ridiculousness of the entire character of Eurus. She LITERALLY had X-Men powers, and like�� just nothing made sense. Her involvement in the entirety of S4 MADE NO SENSE. Why go back to prison if you can get out?? WHAT IS THE POINT?? AND I repeat: She did all this because she didn’t get a hug. Yes. I’m oversimplifying, but at the base level, that’s what it was, because she wanted Sherlock’s attention. Welcome to the club, kid, stand in line, everyone on the SHOW wants his attention.

The ENTIRE plot of the first 2 seasons got wiped out all because it wasn’t Moriarty who was interested in Sherlock, but Eurus?? What… What about Carl Powers?? Like…. the ENTIRETY of season one and TGG makes no sense now, because of that one 5 minute scene where Eurus “enlists” Moriarty. I… ugh.

The SUDDEN tonal switch from kind-of Sherlock to James Bond, for some fucking reason.

And on that note, how terribly lazy and cheap TFP looks in comparison to the other two episodes. The whole episode looks like it was filmed in a small house with 4 identical rooms.

EVERYTHING that was etablished in 2 episodes prior were COMPLETELY forgotten when Mary was “shot”.

The complete character assassination of one loyal blogger John H Watson in favour of Mary for some fucked up reason, even though AT HIS OWN WEDDING HE COULDN’T STAND BEING AROUND MARY. I’m sorry, but I don’t believe for one damned second that John would EVER forgive Mary for murdering his best friend after seeing what it did to him. That’s not love from her, and that’s NOT John’s character EVER in the ENTIRETY of the series.

And speaking of character assassinations, Molly’s character being devolved to S1E1 Molly, where instead of giving her agency like they were doing with her the ENTIRE series, so much so that Sherlock picked up on her dominance enough to give her a big role in his mind palace in HLV and TAB, only to make her a sad little self-insert Mary Sue pining for the main character, and in turn made Sherlock a TERRIBLE human being for MAKING HER say what she did. It’s gross.

AND speaking of Molly’s character, they’ve been setting up Mollstrade since as early as ASiB, but I guess that plot line got shafted. Look I LOVE Hopkins, and I am ANGRY they didn’t give her more than 3 fucking lines in the entirety of ONE episode after HEAVILY promoting her actress and character, but they essentially reduced her to a piece of ass for Lestrade to chase. AND THAT’S NOT HIS CHARACTER EITHER. EW GROSS.

The constant plot holes being gaped wide open, and the Chekov’s gun moments where they bring up shit but do nothing with it!! 

TD-12? Nope, just a lame reference to a story we like. 

John got shot at the end of TLD with a VERY REAL FUCKING GUN? Nope, it was a dart gun. 

John not suddenly knowing how to be a doctor.

The TGG one I mentioned up above. 

What was in the letter? And who was Anyone??

Moriarty essentially being erased as anything other than a hired thug and had no part whatsoever in Sherlock’s history. 

Eurus… Just all of her character is asinine. 

Everyone in T6T suddenly not knowing John’s the blogger, which is in direct contradiction to literally the entire series. 

The AGRA plotline was ridiculous, in the end.

Baby? What baby? It was only there when convenient.

They dropped whatever plotline they were going to do for Mycroft: He was being set up as either dying, or the villain.

Redbeard. I’m sorry, I disagree with you on that. Mofftiss is trying to tell me that a little boy fell down a well and went missing, and that WASN’T the first place searchers / the police wouldn’t have looked? Sorry, no. And then. AND THEN his parents just… go along with this thing where Sherlock shuts down and they DON’T get him therapy? Yes, I agree the mind is a funny thing, and we can be traumatised into forgetting or dissociating from traumatic events. I GET IT. But… like I don’t believe the Holmes are so heartless as to just never grieve or have memories around about their supposedly dead daughter. It’s another OCC thing for me.

John’s cheating.

Disappearing and reappearing characters, like this scene, and the entirety of the aquarium scene.

Mary and John being terrible parents

OH GOD THIS FUCKING SCENE. That bomb SHOULD HAVE DESTROYED THE ENTIRE BUILDING.

What… who was this girl on the plane? What? Like I know WHO, but if she’s supposed to be Eurus talking to Sherlock, why don’t we see Eurus… talking to Sherlock? I … Ugh.

NORBURY. 

The glass SUPER SECRET GOVERNMENT ROOM THAT NO ONE SHOULD SEE INTO in T6T.

Sloppy camera work that some believe was intentional, but if it wasn’t, jesus c’mon.

The RIDICULOUS amount of 4th Wall Breaking. Like… even the actors didn’t give a shit.

Essentially, everything on this list here and in this blog tag here.

And everything mentioned on these three posts:

T6T: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night 

TLD: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

TFP: 10 Revealing Things That Haunt You Late at Night

There’s SO much more I can go into, but please go through my “something’s fucky” tag in that last link.

Notice how probably 90% of that has NOTHING to do with “johnlock not becoming canon” because the Johnlockers get MONSTROUS accusations as to THAT being why we didn’t like S4, even though it was, like critically panned by the GENERAL AUDIENCE who have NO investment in the series other than “I liked it in the past”.

Two of my fave YouTubers have interesting (not perfect, but still good) takes coming at the series as casual viewers:

‘The Day Sherlock Died’ by The Closer Look

‘Sherlock is Garbage, and Here’s Why’ by hbomberguy

So it’s NOT just Johnlockers. I’ve talked to Sher1011ies at 221B con who didn’t like S4 either, because most of them realized how shitty Molly was treated in the last episode. So yeah, a big middle finger to those who think I dislike S4 because of  “no Johnlock”. No, I disliked it because I need my stories to make logical narrative sense. I disliked it because I love John and they ruined his character all for the sake of drama and because Moffat has a “hurting Ben” kink. I disliked it because Mary should NOT have been “redeemed” because she was an abuser. I disliked it because Moriarty was turned into a cartoon villain, even though he was already overused in the series. I disliked it because the core of the show – the FRIENDSHIP of Sherlock and John, and their solving mysteries together – did not exist at all. I disliked it because John got sidelined. I disliked it because TFP was a ridiculous episode that, if you replace ANY of the characters, it wouldn’t make a difference, because it didn’t feel like an episode of Sherlock. I disliked it because everyone was OOC.

Anyway. Sorry. One too many accusations my way over the past 1100+ days LOL.

As for your assessment of TFP, I’m going to have to respectfully disagree with you. There was no growth and actually it implies something far more sinister: That the Holmes are and were terrible parents that gave no shits about their daughter, their traumatized son, and expected their eldest to essentially be a parent. It implies that Mycroft, at 12 years old, orchestrated the ENTIRE Sherrinford thing… Look I can suspend my disbelief, but there’s limits, and this is one of them. A LITERAL CHILD. Perhaps Uncle Rudy had a hand in it somehow, but then why not shit on Uncle Rudy? Why is Mycroft blamed for it all?

Look, I don’t doubt Sherlock had a traumatic experience regarding “Redbeard”. But then why play into the fact that he was a dog? Why bring another character into the series just to have a gotcha moment? Because Mofftiss wanted a “Shyamalan twist”, that’s why. They threw EVERYTHING away for a twist ending either because they GENUINELY thought it was good, or they got tired of doing Sherlock. ALL of TFP is LITERALLY a really bad plot twist because reasons. TFP makes no sense to the ENTIRE narrative structure of the previous 12 episodes. It erased EVERYTHING from the previous episodes, and coated it with a gross closing by a character no one wanted in the series, and then tried to convince us that it’s a new beginning – “a journey they had to go through” – but it SOLVED NOTHING.

Anyway. I have big feels about S4, and the only way I can enjoy it is to watch it subtextually, but even then, I cannot sit through TFP without cringing. 

That said, Lovelies, please do not attack Nonny for enjoying S4! I know you guys won’t, but Nonny came out with an olive branch and they just want to understand why the fandom is passionate about S4′s… whatever it was. We can have a civil discussion about it, and point out – without attacking – why S4 is universally panned. It’s okay to like things no one else does, and Nonny was respectful to me in this ask! 

So with that, feel free, lovelies, to express why YOU didn’t enjoy the series, or why you did! I’m interested in both “sides” / pov’s whatever :)

[butweareafamily]

rules - I bolded the most important bits in case you can't read long text

hello everyone, this is a mutuals only and canon divergent side-blog that will likely only follow back a few people because it’s created to fix things I didn’t like in canon and/or try other canon divergent plots that didn’t happen. It’s important you read the rules because there are characters I don’t interact with (due to how I think Emma would realistically react to some things outside of a tvshow and its limitations) and some changes in Emma’s feelings. Also because of triggers, because Emma has been abused in many ways.

My name is Ele and I’m 30+, pronouns she/her, super friendly but chronically ill. I follow back from butwearefamilymain. If I follow you with my other main blog thecharmingknightemma you are not required to follow it back. I may follow you with that Emma and not this one because I’m extra selective about the plots I want to explore with Emma Swan but can see things happening with my au one.

If we are mutuals and you want to specify the season/context/verse when you send a meme or reply to something, I welcome it. If you don’t, I’ll pick randomly. 

I’m primarily interested in roleplaying with her parents, son, and especially her husband, but I’m open to other friends too, au ships and so on; at the moment I’m not confident enough to write crossovers but I’m open to do that in the future when I have fully developed this canon divergent Emma. Here to plot for Elsa or Anna or other people to become best friends with her through the seasons. I like prolonging seasons as needed to give everyone time to grow and develop, especially the first half of season 3 by ‘trapping’ Pan for real and having him escape and curse everyone only later. Opens and memes and starter calls are always open, no expiration date, and if you worry about me considering you too pushy: if you request something from my wishlist I’ll be super happy, I’m a rper who loves when people read her stuff.

            ************************************************************************

Now here’s where the more controversial positions I have come into play, and while I don’t mean to offend anyone and I do rp with these characters in other au Emma blogs and respect the fact that you like them, I don’t want to do it here where Emma won’t be friendly due to what happens in canon: I will not write threads with Regina, Gold (after season 3) and Neal in this blog. An exception can be made for interactions with Gold: since her feelings depend on what the others have done in the past and present, if you write an au version of him that didn’t do anything to harm Emma&co. starting in season 4 (basically if he doesn’t rip Killian’s heart out/tries to kill Emma in 4a, and everything after that), Emma has no particular problems with him. 

She will never consider or call Regina a friend, but she will try to keep things civil between them for the sake of everyone in town, even if sometimes she has to bite her tongue (while not accepting any criticism over rescuing Marian and not being okay with being scolded for her ‘stupidity’ or having her loved ones insulted). With Neal she was more forceful about not wanting to date him and realized that she only loved her idealized memory of him, not the man he is now and that she doesn’t know.

If for any reason we decide Neal is alive in the background, they are simply co-parenting and he comes over to pick Henry up, she’s polite, but they don’t spend time together as friends because it hurts.

If you love one of those three canon characters or have a multi and write some of them too we can just avoid the subject, just let me know or otherwise her negative comments about canon events might happen.    Also I’m sorry but the only child of Emma I’ll write with is Henry, not because I don’t love the idea of Hope but because I have too many ideas of how she’d raise her and other children, I find it too godmod-y from both sides.

Also,  Emma’s relationship with Belle depends on whether she’s supportive of her husband/ex husband unless we write an au, regardless of whether she and Killian are friends. 

Other divergences: unless we plot a different name she’s not happy about her baby brother being named after Neal for several reasons; she will call him ‘baby bro’ and ‘little brother’ and any other possible variation of petnames. To be clear she wouldn’t be happy about another sibling being called Killian either, even if Killian had stayed dead. Just no.

I ignore the idea that Emma being good comes from her parents taking away the ‘evil potential’ for several reasons, including logic, but I’m okay with the ‘author’ having made her parents believe it/having written their actions and thoughts to force the story in that direction. I am also okay with Emma ‘reverting’ to hiding things from people in season 6 whether she’s called out for it or not, since a couple of years with a family (and more tragedies during these years) will not undo a lifetime of trauma but people have a right to get frustrated. For every step forward, if she feels rejected or betrayed she’ll take ten back.  Very interested in au Dark Swan plots, you can find examples here X.

It’s not necessary for you to read more details, you can guess some plot changes because for example she would tell Regina she can’t enslave a man and put him in a mirror as she pleases, but I’ll still write them in case you want/need to know more: they’ll be in the about page.

Just keep in mind that Emma is an incredibly traumatized woman who never had a ‘normal’ life, and before turning 28 believed to have never been loved and to always have been maliciously betrayed if she tried to hope it would work, with plenty abuse in her past (including literal physical and emotional abuse in her childhood as I state in the triggers section): a few months of having a family while also living through more tragedies certainly didn’t fix all of it nor taught her how to be perfectly functional and nice and reasonable at all times. She always tried to do her best and she has good instincts, and many wounds will heal but scars will stay. 

here the other standard rules:

-nobody here should get stressed out about replies. They happen when we can write and feel like it, if you need to drop a thread do it, be slow, give priority to what your mood tells you. I’m here for both of us to have fun, or we stop and do something else, that’s all. 

-nsfw is tagged and under read more if it happens.

-I try to tag everything but if you have special triggers do tell me. One exception is threads that involve a ship. I can’t tag every single thread with a Killian ‘captain swan’ especially if the other mun hasn’t given the okay for a ship, and by then it’d be quicker for you to just block the other rper name anyway. 

-triggers (to be read even if not all bolded so you don’t get surprised later): I don’t want to write rape or toxic relationships between our muses, in the backstory is fine (and canon, for many). No miscarriage. Please tag your gore images, daddy kink and nsfw in general or I can’t follow back. In this blog there will be talk of child abuse (Emma being the victim), abuse in general (especially since she will interact with abuse victims), PTSD, violence. Specifically, Emma was physically abused by some guardians, emotionally neglected or abused by others, and while for several reasons I don’t write her as a victim of sexual abuse, for some time she was canonically a homeless child and was aware she was at great risk of it, likely had to run to protect herself more than once. However she felt used by Neal for years, when it seemed that he had just been a conman, until finding him in Manhattan (and it helped a lot, though it doesn’t erase that for years she thought that was the truth), and she is NOT comfortable thinking about the romantic and sexual aspects of her relationship with Walsh, who turned out to be manipulating her and lying the entire time about everything, and was ready to kill her as well. 

-I can ship lots of things: Wooden Swan, Gremma and Mad Swan too? Even Frankenswan in more au ways and ScarletSwan, and crossover ships and others, but they require lots of plotting. Captain Swan is still OTP though and the default. If we are writing together and you sorta see a ship, this is your permission to ask. I don’t forceship, ever. 

-I adore Mary Margaret and David, if Emma is ever a bit unfair to them in threads or they made mistakes it can be solved in universe, you don’t have to worry about me disliking them. If anything this blog is also so that they can have a better and deeper relationship. 

-very okay with aus, other ways the show could have gone, other ways for her and Killian to fall in love, threads where one of her parents got to raise her, different ships, stronger friendships, and so on.

-I don’t want to hurt anyone, if I’m ever accidentally rude or hurt your feelings you can totally tell me! I’ll be happy to fix things and clear anything up if language barriers are what led to the misunderstanding. Just don’t be passive aggressive. Every time someone has told me ‘Ele, explain to me this thing because I’m feeling upset’ I ran to fix it, and it’s usually just a misunderstanding. Every time someone is passive-aggressive they stop existing for me. 

[omnical]

I Sing the Body Electric... (1/?)

( Next )

Summary: All her life, forensic pathologist Dr. Angela Ziegler has dabbled much with the dead. After a bout of self-realization, she decides it was time she learned how to deal with the living.

And maybe ask her colleague out for a date somehow.

Genre: AU, Romance. Dark humor. Oh, and ghosts and psychics (anyone a fan of pushing daisies?)

Characters/Pairings: Angela, Lucio, Fareeha (mentioned), Pharmercy

Rating: T, mentions of body gore and third party violence, dark humor.

Links: AO3

Victim died from a singular sharp force: a penetrating wound to the head, resulting in cranial injury.

Left side, approximately 1.53 inches superior to the left orbit.

No murder weapon discovered in the crime scene.

Angela hummed, tapping her lip with the pen.

She paused the voice recorder and wrote her thoughts down on a yellow notebook, leg bobbing, her mind sinking deeper into concentration. By her elbow, a steaming cup of coffee remained untouched, and a nine-hour-old, empty sandwich wrapper laid crumpled up in a ball. Empty coffee cups littered her desk, alongside a mess of sticky notes with crucial thoughts written on them, such as: ‘the nasal cavity?’ and ‘lentil soup’.

Her uniform smelled freshly of antiseptic and murk from the examination they had performed earlier today. It sunk into her skin, her hair; lingering under her nose. Nothing she wasn’t used to, but being used to the smell did not mean she wouldn’t enjoy a long, hot shower back home. Finally, wiping biscuit crumbs off her wobbling keyboard and cracking her long, crooked fingers -- Angela got to work threading the details together. Her peering blue eyes did not break away from the notes and sketches she accumulated, as she typed down her meticulous observations regarding the case. And after what felt like hours, Dr. Ziegler sat back stiffly, curled hands hovering above the keyboard as she skimmed through her official autopsy report, eyes straining from overexposure to the monitor light.

She needed a few more moments of scribbling and typing and biting her pen. Playing the recorder again, keeping it on repeat; she listened to the sound of her voice, crackling and interspersed with static:

Body was found by janitorial staff at 1:30 PM.

According to the man in question, he was lying face-down on his desk, his pose suggesting a struggle, which explains various points of discoloration on his skin…

Blunt force trauma found on abdomen… bruising prominent beneath the left rib –

Where was his position when he received that bruise again?

Angela hummed, her thumbs tapping a random rhythm on the keyboard's space-key.

Once she reached the end of the tape for the third time, marked by a soft ‘click’, afternoon had already come and gone, her desktop monitor the only light bathing her in blue. She hid the recorder in the drawer, her free hand busy alternating between drafting a few rough sketches on paper, and typing exact details on the autopsy report. The doctor took a moment to grab a folder for Case #765 on top of a pile, opening it and flipping over to the photos of the crime scene: dried blood splattered outwards in every chaotic direction on the victim’s mahogany desk; his leather writing pad askew, probably because of how the body fell upon its expiry. She pinched her pen idly between her nose and upper lip, noting how neat the rest of the victim’s desk looked otherwise. She wondered what Satya would say about that particular pattern of blood. It looked like a bunny rabbit.

“Doc Ziegler?”

Cutting herself off in the middle of her thoughts before it drifted too far, Angela reached out to grab her coffee cup, not minding its ice-cold contents, and re-read her notes during their Internal Examination. Angela could only imagine what kind of weapon the murderer used. Or get an idea of what it was, at least, after seeing the results of the death blow herself. This seemed like a tricky one.

“Doc?”

Now if she were to make a guess, it would have been an extremely sharp knife with a serrated edge or…

Angela blindly grabbed for her pen, cocking her head when she realized, during her feverish thought process, she had lost the blasted thing somewhere and could not for the life of her remember where…

“Yo, Dr. Ziegler!” Angela blinked rapidly when Dr. dos Santos’ face appeared in front of her peripheral vision, her blurry sight sharpening until she could see the quirk of his eyebrow and his amused smirk up close. “Busy?” After a pause, a few seconds spent allowing her mind to buffer as she forcefully snapped herself back into reality, Angela jumped in her chair and uttered a small and startled ‘oh’. Her speeding thoughts halting violently in its tracks, not unlike a race car screeching out of the road in a rabble of chaos. She blinked again and, similar to the spread of colored dye blooming in water, her mind began to consciously feel the kinks and aches in her bones ignored for too long. A beat, and she realized her stomach had also released an embarrassing rumble on top of it all. She sent Lucio a sheepish look.

“Doctor, I’m sorry, I -- ” Angela shoved her skewed glasses up her nose, “You startled me.”

Lucio shook his head and rested hands on his hips while he regarded his frazzled mentor. There were biscuit crumbs dotting the corners of her mouth, and her blonde hair stuck up in several different directions all at once. Her clothing was rumpled and frayed, high heels pushed to the corner of her desk, leaving her feet covered in wrinkled stockings, and -- there were coffee stains on her shirt. He sighed, wondering who was really looking after who, in their professional relationship.

“So,” he said, elongating the word into a drawl, “Please tell me you ate lunch?”

Dr. Ziegler cleared her throat, “Yes, of course I had lunch.” she said, wiping crumbs off her chin. “I had something hot and soup-like almost an hour ago, and – “

“I don’t think coffee counts as ‘lunch’, Angela.”

Angela groaned in defeat and closed her eyes, watching bright spots dance beneath her eyelids as her body melted into the chair like putty. She breathed in deep, then stretched her legs out with an exhale. “Just finishing up on some paperwork, that’s all. You know how I get carried away sometimes.”

“How about all the time? And I think ‘carried away’ wasn’t exactly the term I was looking for. Try ‘workaholic’, or ‘perfectionist’.” Lucio leaned his hip against Angela’s desk, crossing his arms, and peering down at her with a mock frown, his neon green headset bunched up around his neck. Even if Dr. Lucio dos Santos was many years younger than her, and technically working under her, Angela hunkered down into her seat feeling much like a child under the watchful eyes of a parent. “When was the last time you took a ten-minute break, young lady?”

“I am not working too hard,” Angela groused. She sat back up in her seat with a grunt, feeling her back and neck pop. “This is just regular me, doing my regular me things,” She shot him a look. “Mom.”

“Don’t give me lip, young lady, you know you’re wrong about this,” Lucio said, “As your colleague, you know I respect and look up to you. But as your friend? You gotta start taking care of yourself, Angela.”

Angela huffed through her nose and began to get her hands busy, stacking the mess of reports which covered her desk into a neat-ish pile, and actively trying to avoid the look Lucio was giving her. “Just be glad I am out of my funk, Dr. dos Santos. I am happy, motivated, and ready to take on the next seventeen cases.” Even the smile on her face felt fake. “Bring it on.”

“Uhuh.” Lucio wryly glanced at the mess of documents under her desk. “Angela, I’m sorry I gotta tell you this, but you have got to get a hobby. Doing something other than work might help you more with this midlife crisis thing.”

“I am not having a midlife crisis thing. I’m not that old, doctor. And–” Angela raised her eyebrows, denial written plainly across her face, “I do have a hobby,” she said with a shrug, “It just so happens that my hobby is related to my work.”

“Your hobby is dead bodies.” Lucio muttered.

“Solving problems. Discovering the unknown.”

“… About dead bodies.”

“Now, if you would kindly excuse me,” Angela threw her entire weight into tossing a giant, teetering stack of documents on the floor next to her feet with a huff. “I was, in fact, about to go and take my break.” she said, dusting her hands together, “Want to have lunch with me, doctor? It will be my treat.”

“It’s seven-thirty in the evening, Doc.”

“Oh, well, time flies I suppose.” Angela said, opening one of her desk drawers, then absentmindedly shoving Jim Jam wrappers and empty coffee cups inside. As if that would make her trash disappear in the morning.

After six months working in King’s Row Forensics Department, the terrifying sight of Dr. Ziegler’s desk hygiene was common enough for Dr. dos Santos to see. He learned early from older residents how futile it was to drag Dr. Ziegler away from a job, and Dr. dos Santos no longer stared at her and her atrocious, self-destructive habits in awe. Their student-mentor positions didn’t stop Lucio from chastising her about her work ethic, especially after witnessing drawn shadows prominent under her eyes everyday, and her smudged make up only completed Angela's usual look. Now one of Lucio’s many fears was finding Angela Ziegler in their morgue someday.

However.

Dr. dos Santos peered at her above the rim of his glasses, and noted the glow about her cheeks with a raised brow.

"Now that I think about it, I haven’t seen you this excited about solving a case since…”

“I am always excited about solving cases.”

“But where was that Doc Ziegler who was ‘tired of it all’ and who ‘wanted to do something new with her life’?” he asked, “Someone who wanted nothing to do with ‘death and dead stuff’? Don't give me that look, you know what I'm talkin' about."

"Lucio--"

"Where was that Angela Ziegler who was planning to quit and maybe try being a football coach or a field medic or something?”

“She is still here, and she happened to get a grip on reality after a lot of thinking.” Angela said, ducking her head, as if that would hide the dusting of red on her cheeks. “Besides, I am already finished with this case. The precinct needs it urgently tomorrow, and, you know…” she stumbled on her words.

“And?”

“I had to finish it quickly.” Angela finished lamely, her voice raising an octave higher as if that would make her sound innocent with her intentions. “Detective Amari was asking about it this morning, and I felt compelled to help her crack this case as soon as possible.”

Lucio felt both his eyebrows reach up his hairline. “Oh. I see. I see.” he said, a twinkle reaching his eye while he casually turned to check his nails, trying to appear more interested with its polish rather than the conversation itself, “Detective Dimples is an awesome source of motivation, isn’t she? Hoping to share a hobby with her, huh?”

“Oh, Lucio!” Angela almost jumped out of her chair, smacking his shoulder with a manila folder. “Don’t call her Detective Dimples.”

“Hey, you were the one swooning over her ‘smoky voice‘ and ‘beautiful smile’ a few days ago.” Lucio laughed, rubbing at the spot she slapped. “Admit it, doc, you’re too gay to handle another meeting with her.”

Angela exhaled, and schooled her features before she became too flustered; raking her fingers through her hair, and hoping the red flush now covering her neck down would fade before another nosy nancy came into the office.

Relax. You are a doctor. You are a professional.

She straightened up in her chair, and folded her hands together in her lap. “I wanted to make sure I handed it in right away, that is all.” she said, managing an impressive professional lull in the tone of her voice. “I didn’t want to make our relationship with the precinct worse than it already is. And secondly,” Angela’s brows pinched in annoyance, and pointed at her office with a sharp jab of her forefinger: “‘Detective Dimples’ stays inside this room, doctor.”

“Detective Amari’s bone structure and cheekbones are so sharp and prominent–“

“Lucio.”

“It makes me want to take up anthropology. Oh Detective.”

“Lucio!”

“Fine, fine, I promise I won’t bring it up again.” he said, trying not to double up in laughter, his poor attempt almost making him slip off her desk. “Professional reasons my ass, though, I know you’re her favorite in the lab. Always asking about you and your ‘thoughts’.” he waggled his eyebrows, “You should ask her out instead of doing this–” he motioned his hands at her vaguely, “Weird flirting ritual thing you’re doing. I doubt you can woo her by talking about dead bodies, Doc Ziegler.”

“I do no such thing, doctor.”

“You need to get out there and get a life. Any life. Get a hobby. Get some friends. Ask Detective A out on a sweet date. Live a little.”

“I do have friends. You’re my friend, yes? Sometimes I even read books.”

“Thrilling.”

“And the detective and I do connect, socially, but just as acquaintances and nothing more.” Angela said, pulling her fingers thoughtfully, “I am a grown woman, doctor, I have complete control of my life.”

“Last time you spoke to her, you struck up a conversation about bile.”

“Well, I thought it was fascinating.” Angela grabbed the rest of her documents and began to rearrange them in a tray next to her monitor, this time with less gusto, feeling herself hunch over as her mind began to conjure up depressing thoughts. “I don’t think I am her type, anyways.”

“Oh, nonsense.”

But it was true. Whether Angela liked it or not, why would anybody consider dating a frumpy, high-strung workaholic, who liked to open up dead bodies for a living?

Dr. Ziegler and Detective Amari were connected through their profession only, no matter what her feelings were. They barely did anything beyond striking awkward pleasantries and empty conversations with each other. Trying anything more proved too much for her to handle. She found it difficult navigating through compelling words above work jargon, while stuttering and pushing through her infuriating and terrifying feelings. Not even the universe was kind enough to let them to meet on different circumstances, thus, they only ever saw each other to discuss murder cases among... other things.

Angela’s eyes, tired and unfocused, turned to look back at the autopsy report, wishing she could get sucked back into its world, where things had more clarity and sense and nothing was embarrassing.

Angela wondered when speaking with the dead became easier for her than dealing with the living.

She checked the time on her digital clock, blinking when she read it was now seven-forty six in the evening. The lights from the city cast a glow over the smoggy horizon, and as Angela listened carefully, she could hear police sirens echo off from a distance. She wondered if it was going to be another case they would eventually find through their doors.

Another body, another life ended.

She felt a hand on her shoulder ground her, all teasing gone from Lucio’s voice. “You won’t know unless you try, Doc.”

EDITED (26/09/17): Just the pacing and switched some words :) Thank you!

[idle-flower]

dear yuletide author

Thank you for your time and attention, and I hope your wishes are granted this holiday!

General:

I prefer plot and angst and adventure to fluff, though a nice warm fluffy scene can make a good dessert at the end of the pain and suffering. I lean more to f/f and m/f than m/m. I enjoy forbidden relationships. I really love exploring the 'what if' spinoffs of a small change and seeing how that ripples through the canon and makes other changes happen automatically. I have a weakness for detailed object/costume descriptions. I swoon for lovers who take dramatic risks to protect their loved ones.

Dislikes - Please avoid sweeping tropey AUs like 'what if noir' or 'what if everyone was in high school'. I'm REALLY picky about comedy so it's probably not a good idea to go for wacky funny stuff. No excited rambling about pregnancy or babies. (Older kids are okay.) While I am okay with pretty dark stuff, please don't gorily torture characters to death on screen. If people gotta die, limit the details! I am generally not keen on crossovers. I dislike PWP unless it is exceedingly hot smut with an emotional twist to it, in which case the emotional impact can make up for the lack of plot.

Smut:

I don't require it, but I do read a good bit of filthy porn and I am OKAY with you deciding to fill my requests in an explicit manner if that's where your mind is going.

Kinks I find interesting: mild bdsm, pain mixed with pleasure, dubcon, sibling or cousin incest, strap-ons, futanari and other magical appendages, teasing, teenagers, drugs/magic with interesting effects, people making terrible decisions due to being emotionally overwrought or really really horny

PLEASE NO: rape or painful sex that one party is not enjoying at all, inserting anything edible (licking off boobs is okay), aggressive face-fucking, choking, degradation, scat/watersports, bukkake, parental incest, anyone younger than teen, emphasis on 'virgin blood' (some writers make it a huge deal with tearing pain and fountains of blood, please don't).

Mysterious Cities of Gold

Esteban, Tao, Zia

Please base your story solely on the original 1982 season and nothing to do with the 2013+ stuff. Inventing your own what-happened-next after that season is okay, but mostly I'd just like some more adventure with the kids finding strange secrets and mechanisms and solving puzzles. In particular, the Solaris was kind of wasted in the show. We found this huge ship full of weird rooms (was that a holodeck in there? Where did those chairs come from?) and probably all KINDS of neat secrets, but we barely even got to look around it before it blew up. What if they'd kept the ship longer, or it had been able to convert into a land/flying form? Or what if we just spend a few more days opening doors and finding hidden treasures and playing with them? They're kids, let them have some fun!

Alternately, what if after moving from the ship to the condor, at the end of the series they get hold of a SPACESHIP? Plenty of story possibility in trying to figure out how to use that!

IF YOU WANTED TO SMUT THIS: they're a bit young for serious smut, although finding Ancient Empire Of Hiva sex toys and having no clue what they are would at least be funny (and less dangerous than when Tao first found the Spaniards’ pistols!). Bump them up to young teenagers and I'll be okay with Esteban+Zia kissing, fooling around, and possibly getting carried away while having no idea what they're doing. Blue lagoon innocent sex, fine. No kinky stuff here though, and no threesomes, though Tao might overhear and be jealous.

The Velvet Room - Zilpha Keatley Snyder

Gwen McCurdy, Robin Williams

Please let my girls fall in love.

There’s no fanfic of this at all, so I’ll take friendship if I must, but I would love to see something more develop between these two. Could be sweet and fluffy, could be a new source of angst as their relationship is threatened by the morals of the time, could even go dark in an AU where Robin’s family does leave her behind to become Gwen’s playmate and circumstances force her into submissiveness. Could have a happy end, could end in tears, I do enjoy poignant.

I would be thrilled if they got together and then started falling into more mysteries in classic Girl Detective fashion. 

IF YOU WANTED TO SMUT THIS: mutual body exploration and curiosity, sweet romantic first time, OR slave/maid/toy Robin serving her mistresses whims

Exiles Saga

Felice Landry

Poor broken Felice... Give me a story where things don't turn out so badly for her! Let her meet someone who can both love and challenge her (a hybrid Tanu woman, perhaps? NOT Katy. But someone.) Let her come to operancy through the emotional trauma of a mature relationship, rather than being tortured into insanity! (But then, of course, what happens to everyone else if Felice doesn't pop the cork and flood the plain? Or would she do it for other reasons?)

Doesn't have to be amazingly happy for everybody, a lot of people are likely going to die in any conflict in this setting. I don't care who else dies, just LET FELICE HAVE A HAPPY AU. SOMEBODY PLEASE LOVE HER.

IF YOU WANTED TO SMUT THIS: I'd rather not - with everything she goes through in canon I feel weird about focusing on sex with her. But if you really wanted a love scene, as long as it was the sweetest happiest fluffiest I-never-knew-it-could-feel-so-good thing imaginable, that's okay. Felice’s life sucked and I just want to make everything better, just once. 

Shoujo Kakumei Utena

Kaoru Kozue

Okay, perhaps I have a weakness for damaged girls who will never give in. Kozue is a very confusing character, but one thing she's not is weak. Where can you go with Kozue as protagonist? As decidedly-non-innocent hero? Shameless. Fearless. A little cruel. Promiscuous, uses sex as a weapon and as pleasure. Ruthless enough to kill, sympathetic enough to protect the weak that are otherwise beneath notice... I've enjoyed a lot of very different takes on her.

A few vague ideas:

What would happen to this fairytale world if the story tried to make Kozue into the next Witch? How might Akio draw her into his schemes? How might the duels change, with Miki as the ghost of an innocent prince? (Murder is an acceptable outcome.)

For an even darker story, a violent confrontation between Kozue and Nanami. Nanami is very resistant to the sexuality and knowledge that Kozue embraces; they are both obsessed with their very different brothers. What if Kozue tries to enforce her version of right and wrong on her counterpart? What if the twins were also adopted, and Kozue knows it though Miki does not, and that's part of why she's so untrusting of adults as a source of security, while so driven to attract and control them? Pouring out her contempt for Nanami's own struggles with her family identity, raging against Nanami's innocence and reluctance to take what she apparently desires, and somehow in the process hurting herself just as much... Basically I'm up for an encounter between them going into some very bad places. Discussion of child abuse and rape is okay within this context.

Or on a lighter note, what if Kozue decides that the best way to deal with her brother is to find him the perfect sweet little girlfriend for him to be sickeningly happy with - someone who is, of course, completely under Kozue's control, so that she isn't really losing him at all? And thus she goes shopping among the "nice" girls of Ohtori, trying to find someone sweet and submissive that she can take under her wing...

Or perhaps somehow Kozue and Shiori become comrades-in-arms, wielding the power of being the girls that others despise, and tear the story apart from the inside.  Bonus points if you can somehow get Kozue back into her Black Rose outfit and let her stab people.

IF YOU WANTED TO SMUT THIS: All sorts of things are fine, but preferred pairings Kozue/Anthy, Kozue/Nanami (possibly nonconsensual), Kozue/Keiko, Kozue/Akio. DO NOT WANT: Saionji, Touga, or Miki.

[inevitably-johnlocked]

Hey! I was wondering if you’ve got any good Johnlock recs that focus a bit on soldier!John? I read a lot of your recs where they’re together before John goes to Afghanistan, but I just love BAMF!John!

Hi Lovely!!

Ahhh, I’m glad you enjoy my recs! I’ve not very many Soldier John fics, but let’s see what I got!

SOLDIER JOHN

See also:

Sherlock’s Military Kink

Alternate First Meetings (Canon-Feeling)

Alternate Professions

Past Sholto / John

BAMF! But Insecure John

Sherlock’s soldier!John Kink is Getting Out of Hand by wendymarlowe (E, 1,247 w. || Secret Crush, Military Kink, Masturbation) – Sherlock’s got a secret kink. And a secret box where he hides his pictures of John in uniform. And a very, very secret crush on his flatmate.

Corn Dog Daddy by inevitably_johnlocked (M, 2,719 || Sherlock POV, Fluff and Crack, Corn Dogs, Fairgrounds, Coming In Pants, Euphemisms, Military Kink, Flirting, Sexy John, BAMF John, Smol Sherlock, Pining Sherlock, Humour) – Sherlock and John wind down after a case in a small town at a county fair. Sherlock’s imagination goes awry as John’s sexiness drives him crazy. Also: John knows how to handle a meat stick. Part 2 of I-J’s Tumblr Ficlet Collection

It’s After That Hurts by jonnyluvssherlock (T, 2,791 w. || City of Angels AU || Fantasy, Fallen Angel Sherlock, Soldier John, Pining Sherlock, Friends to Lovers, Permanently Incomplete Fic) – Sherlock’s an angel stuck as a guardian to danger addict John Watson. Everything is fine until he gets too involved. Now he has to make the choice, eternity alone or one life time with a man who may or may not love him.

Straight Shooter by nefariosity (E, 3,249 w. || Est. Rel., Light Dom/Sub, Military Kink, PWP) – Sherlock has a military kink. John indulges him.

The Bee Charmer by dreadpiratewatson (M, 3,314 w. || Est. Rel., Captain / Soldier John, Idiots in Love, Domestics, John in the Army) – Greg goes to 221B to check up on Sherlock after a strange phone call pulls him away from an important case, and is stunned to find himself in front of a gun brandishing soldier with a sleeping Sherlock on his chest. John Watson is a doctor, a war hero, a husband, and the only one in the world who can soften Sherlock’s heart.

Spoils of War by sweetcupncakes (E, 3,563 w. || Bottomlock, Military Kink, Comeplay, Anal) – John brushes his thumb over the gun’s slide, over the rear sight. Sherlock’s mouth feels too wet. He could lick John’s fingers, suck on them, bite down softly on that callus that is a direct result of John’s frequent need to handle the gun at all. Sherlock could do that, John might like it, really. Sherlock has been told his mouth is absolutely lovely.

Uniform by kirakira_nanoda (E, 4,050 w. || Military Kink, Horny Sherlock, PWP) –  John indulges in Sherlock’s military kink. Part 2 of Sherlock’s military kinks

Private Rituals by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic) (E, 4,377 w. || Masturbation, Anal, Light BDSM, Military Kink) – Sherlock has a very specific masturbation ritual, but what would John think of it?

The Prize We Sought Is Won by deathfrisbees (E, 4,610 w. || First Time, Mild D/S, Oral, Military Kink, Bottomlock) – Sherlock’s in love, or in lust, or both–unfortunately, the object of his affections is not only his completely oblivious flatmate, but said flatmate would probably run screaming into the hills should he find out. John’s been invited to a wedding–unfortunately, the groom used to serve under him back in Afghanistan, and requests that John wear a uniform he’s honestly not sure he fits into. Unfortunately for both flatmates, Sherlock’s got a military kink the size of Kandahar and John wants to know if he actually can fit into this uniform or if his eyes are deceiving him. It goes from there.

Winter of Life by You_Light_The_Sky (T, 5,178 w. || Christmas, Fluff & Angst, Magic Realism) – It was an experiment, really. On Christmas, Sherlock wrote to Santa asking for a friend. He got a broken toy soldier instead. This is the story of how he finds him again and again.

5687 (Approximately) by prettysailorsoldier (T, 6,771 w. || Est. Rel., Alternate Canon, Christmas, Pining, Fluff, Soldier John) – When John’s leave request for Christmas is denied, Sherlock is nothing short of devastated, not that he’s letting it show. The holiday season now something he’s just waiting to end, Sherlock doesn’t think anything can possibly make it worse. That is, until he realizes no one in his life believes his army “boyfriend” is even real, but, luckily, everyone is in for a surprise. Part 13 of 25 Days of Johnlock

I Need You To See Me by Mssmithlove (E, 12,625 w. || Angst, Amnesia, Soldier!John) – After going back to war, John is yet again invalided home, this time with a broken ankle and a chunk of his memory missing, unable to recall the last five years he’s spent being Sherlock Holmes’ partner and husband. Part 9 of Happiness Awaits

All the Girls Love a Soldier by Book7BrokeMyBrain (E, 12,951 w. || Military Kink, Frottage, Domesticity, Post S3, Pining Sherlock, Kilt John, Wedding, Dancing, Oral, Romance, ) – John is invited to a stag party and a wedding. The related accoutrement suit Sherlock to a T.

The Nutcracker by Odamaki (T, 13,758 w. || Nutcracker AU ||  Christmas, Dark Magic, Dolls) – Sherlock is unimpressed with Uncle Rudy’s present. A doll? What does he want with a doll?

whiskies neat by Ellipsical (E, 20,660 w. || Alternate First Meeting, POV Second Person Sherlock, Slow Burn, One Night Stand, Rimming, Blow Jobs, Anal, Soldier John, Crying, Emotional Lovemaking, Switchlock) – Home and hearth and whiskies neat, or, alternatively, Sherlock Holmes falls in love.

And A Doctor by StillWaters1 (T, 27,393 w. || Friendship, Doctor John, Whump, Soldier / Doctor Dichotomy, Five and One) – It was only when people actually saw John working as a physician that they began to understand: that it wasn’t just about bullets and IEDs and trauma care under fire. That “doctor” actually covered a pretty wide field. And that John was bloody good at covering ground. 5 times Dr. Watson treated others and 1 time he treated himself.

Guidelines by WithLoweredVoices (M, 43,018 w. || Winglock || Angels, Fantasy, Angst, BAMF! John, War) – The Good Soldier, one of the oldest and strongest of the fallen, is offered a bargain: to live as John Watson and to Guide a fledgling archangel so that he will stay on the path of good. Of course, Sherlock Holmes has different ideas about his destiny. Fantasy AU. Warnings for violence, occasional gore, and a whole load of hurt and angst.

A Week is Just Seven Days Isn’t It? by scifigrl47 (T, 39,906 w. || Humour, Friendship/Bromance, Stroppy/Bored Sherlock, Undercover/Army John, Texting, Pining-ish Sherlock, John Whump) – When John heads overseas for a week, Sherlock’s forced to fend for himself. It goes about as well as anyone could have anticipated. Which is to say, very, very poorly. Don’t worry, things’ll be fine in just seven days.

Bedroom Tales by Junejuly15 (M, 49,950 w. || Friends to Lovers, Through the Years, H/C, Military Kink, First Kiss / Time, Romance, Insecure Sherlock, Voyeurism, Post-TRF, Ficlets, Fluff and Angst, Fix-It Fics) – Bedroom Tales is a collection of John and Sherlock ficlets. They are set at various stages of their relationship and are in no particular order. Some are fluffy, some sexy, some angsty, there is hurt and comfort, romance and love. What unites them is that they all play in a bedroom, but not necessarily the one in 221B.

Two Two One Bravo Baker by abundantlyqueer (E, 114,574 w. || Military AU || Afghanistan, War Story, Thriller, Love Confessions, Mutual Pining) – Captain John Watson of 40 Commando, the Royal Marines, is assigned to protect and assist Sherlock Holmes as he investigates what appears to be a simple war atrocity in Afghanistan. An intense attraction ignites between the two men as they uncover a conspiracy that threatens everything they’ve ever known, but Sherlock is as much hunted as hunter, and everyone close to him is in deadly danger. Can he solve the case in time to save himself and John? Part 1 of Two Two One Bravo Baker Universe

MARKED FOR LATER

A Box Where I Keep My Love by Aelfay (T, 2,274 w. || DomJohn / SubSherlock, Soldier John) – In the pursuit of a criminal, John agrees to use his dominance to keep things from getting violent. Sherlock suddenly feels his world change gears. Part 1 of the Levels!verse series

Soldier’s Pins by justacookieofacumberbatch (buffyholic) (E, 3,615 w. || Dog Tags, PWP, Porn With Feelings) – Sherlock has developed a habit of wearing John’s dog tags, but what happens if John catches him?

To Be Consoled by 221b_hound (T, 4,770 w. || BAMF John, Doctor John, Graphic Descriptions, Mild PTSD) – An ordinary day is torn to shreds by a bomb blast, and John’s friends are reminded that he’s not just Sherlock’s blogger and assistant: he’s a soldier and a doctor and a leader in his own right. But he’s human, too, like anyone else. Part 28 of the Guitar Man series

we have never seen a greater day than this by Lediona (T, 16,090 +w. || WiP || Royalty Night Out AU || WWII / VE Day, Meet Cute, Prince Sherlock / Soldier John, Alternating POV) – Peace. At long last. It’s VE Day and Prince William desires to join the celebrations. It is a night of excitement, danger and the first flutters of romance.

Dead Letter Office by a_different_equation (M, 20,364 w. || ‘Bartleby’ Fusion / Office Setting AU || Different First Meeting, Epistolary, John’s Blog, Angst with a Happy Ending, Pre-Canon, John Watson is Sherlock’s Boss, PTSD John, Military Backstory, Writer John, Drug Use, Texting) – John Watson comes home from the war, gets a new job and meets Sherlock Holmes through Mike Stamford. Same tale since 1891, except this time it’s 2008, John is Sherlock’s boss, and they work together at the Dead Letter Office in London. It’s not a love story, until it finally is.

A Twist of Fate by cloud_wolfbane (M, 21,103 w. || Omegaverse, Mpreg, Drug Use, Parentlock) – In a cocaine bender Sherlock forgets to take his heat suppressants and spends his heat with a soldier readying for deployment. While he remembers the man’s kindness he does not remember his name. In a move even Sherlock isn’t sure he can deduce, he decides to keep the child. What will he do 10 years later when he meets Dr. John Watson at Barts? Part 1 of the Twist of Fate series

Mad Doc Watson Series by ThetaSigma (G to E, 21,516 w. across 9 works || BAMF!John, Captain Watson, Est. Rel., John’s Past, Sherlock’s Military Kink, Scars, Kidnapping / Hostage Situation) – John Watson is utterly BAMF and basically a goddamn madman. Following are stories of him in Afghanistan and him in London, being the craziest bastard ever (Sherlock is besotted).

The Bravery of the Soldier by bakerstreetgirl (G, 101,703 +w., WIP || BAMF John, John in Afghanistan, PTSD, Post-TRF, Case Fic, Sherlock Cares, Epic Bromance, Platonic Soulmates, Platonics, Flashbacks) – When a news story about a hostage situation in Afghanistan breaks, details about John Watson���s military service come to light that the doctor had kept secret for a long time. Sherlock is intrigued and John manages to surprise the British government. What John needs in light of this story and the PTSD responses it flares up, is a friend. Can Sherlock Holmes step up to the job? Deals mainly with John’s career and military background, plus epic friendship, BAMFness and a little bit of case fic. Part 1 of the Before Baker Street series