#the relationships with his siblings that were purposefully broken and taken away from him!!!

[malewifehenrycooldown]

Sometimes I think about that moment in NMH2 when Travis’s talks about how ‘despite assassins being super fucked up, are still human beings that deserve respect’ and I just… kinda get emotional over that because even though he is a pathetic loser, he’s not wrong!! He’s absolutely correct!!

Assassins are more than just tools! They are more than just bloodthirsty killers! They had lives! Dreams! Personalities! Interests!! Family!! They had things that they cared about but had no choice but to abandon them, because the life of an assassin is cruel one with constant competition. The genuine horror of it is realising that at any moment, a ranking fight would be set and on that day of the fight you’d have to accept the fact that you might not walk out the door, it’s sad!! It’s horrifying! And with each little bit of info on the assassins you get you can’t help but feel bad for them. Sure they knew what they were signing up for but that doesn’t mean they can’t have a dignified/honourable death !!

[partum-memoriae-muses]

Name: Ryan Simmons

Series: Fandomless

Faceclaim: Rayne from Neo Angelique Abyss

Age: 23

Height: 5'10"

Birthday: December 8th

Birthplace: Florida, United States

Orientation: Heterosexual

Species: Human

Occupation: Restaurant waiter

Father: Ronald Simmons

Mother: Annabeth Simmons

Sibling(s): Aubrey, Abby and Amy

Bio:

TRIGGER WARNING FOR ABUSE AND DRUG ABUSE

Ryan is the oldest of four children and the only son of the family. His parents were extremely neglect towards him and his siblings, but he refused to step up and be a parent for them. Instead, he decided to run off a lot and do his own thing (that being playing at the arcade or getting drunk at the bar). Not like he had a good example to follow as his parents were extremely abusive towards each other but soon worked things out (apparently) after turning to drugs when Ryan was in high school. Ryan didn’t really care about what his parents were doing, he chose to just run away from it all especially when he came home one day to find needles scattered all across the floor.

While Ryan likes to feel like his abusive parents didn’t effect him, it did. He doesn’t believe in committing to a relationship and no matter how well a relationship goes, Ryan would ALWAYS cheat on a girl right as things start to get serious. Perhaps he fears that getting serious with someone will result in him turning out exactly like his parents, they do say the apple doesn’t fall too far from the tree after all. Even needles seem to make him feel panicked, but he continues to deny that he was ever affected by the horrible actions of his parents.

He’s also quite the asshole as well. He bullied one boy, by the name of Jasper, so horribly that he and some other guys were cruel enough to stab a glass bottle at his face. It was so bad that Jasper had gone permenently blind in one eye. He didn’t really believe it, how could jamming a broken bottle by someone’s eye really cause them to go blind? It wasn’t that he bullied Jasper to make himself feel better or jealous, because he didn’t know anything about Jasper, but he bullied because that’s what he grew up seeing. He always saw his parents beat each other down that he almost thought it was normal to be that way with other people. Though he does have boundaries, he doesn’t hit women. Perhaps it’s this idea to only cause fights with other men is why he often would come home from the bar with bruises all over his body. It doesn’t help his words are rather harsh too, often insulting people or purposefully triggering them just for his own amusement.

Ryan also doesn’t get along with his younger sister, Aubrey either. He doesn’t really get along with any of his sisters, perhaps he feels a sense of hatred to look after anyone else besides himself. Since he didn’t want to help Aubrey get their sisters out of that abusive and drug-filled home, Ryan moved out at nineteen and currently lives in a apartment quite a while away from his sisters. The further away he is from his sisters, the better in his eyes. Though the one sister he hates the most is Aubrey as the two have vastly different world views and Ryan sees his sister as pathetic for being an escort for money despite the fact that it's his fault for completely abandoning her and refusing to help her or their sisters in any way at all. To him, Aubrey is no better than a street walker, being quite a despicable person.

One could only hope that Ryan would someday see the errors of his ways and be the older brother that his sisters need but likely not. Ryan doesn't quite cheat on women anymore after a while, but he never finds himself never getting attatched like a womanizer. The only reason Ryan ever stopped cheating on women was because one of them had taken their anger out on him so far that it was finally a wake up call. He never truly did quite learn to grow up and be a responsible person others can rely on.

Ryan can mostly be easy going, constantly hitting on women to the point of harassment sometimes, but his biggest flaw is his big mouth and irresponsible behavior. He will genuinely insult someone to get a rise out of them. If he managed to get a woman pregnant? He would likely run for it, as cruel as that is. It would have to take someone who's ready to give him a wake up call multiple times for him to grow up and learn to be a person others can rely on for emotional support and to be a real adult.

[twistedmusings]

Reading Between The Lines

A/N: I feel bad whenever I say 'hey here is what I am working on' and then my muses tell me 'no...this is what you are working on'. It's like my brain can't concentrate on one thing entirely q wq. In my defense though, I'm exploring my twst faves...and Cater may be a runner up to Vil...

Warnings: Dry humping, dirty talking and a quick handjob just as unsatisfying and ungratifying as Cater feeling like maybe he shouldn't have let you go just yet.

“Whoops.”

Cater’s phone case cracked as it hit the floor, eyes locking with yours as you pull away from the Heartslabyul second year. Why had he even dropped his phone in the first place? The case had cost a lot and he had queued up for hours to get it, there should have been no reason for him to drop it.

Maybe the shock from seeing you in Heartslabyul?

No, that was normal. You were friends with Ace and Deuce after all so your presence in Heartslabyul was normal.

Maybe from seeing you in a bedroom that wasn’t a first year room?

He was coming to check up on a second year who had mentioned something about needing help in Astrology so Riddle had instructed Cater to help the guy out. The ‘strict Queen’ was aiming for the highest grade among the dorms, after all. So he was just carrying out his duty as an upperclassman!

So seeing you here, in this second year’s room, shirt around your elbows as a pair of hands--

that weren’t his--gently wrapped themselves around your waist was probably what made him drop his case.

Good to know, if he had come to that conclusion at any other time that you weren’t here, he might have said something mean to his lower-class men.

You move to fix your shirt as the second year rushes to apologize, walking up to him and spouting words Cater wouldn’t bother to hear. His eyes kept staring as you fixed yourself up to look a tad more proper than how he had found you.

It wasn’t like the sight of you in that state was unfamiliar to him, he just hadn’t seen it in a long time.

“Please just keep it between us, Cater-san! I don’t know what I’d do if the dorm head found out about this.”

He snaps out of his trance, looking down at the second year before grinning as he let out a slow hum, pretending to mull the request over in his head.

“Should I? If I remember correctly...Rule 345--Only when the sky turns red as it is dawning can a romantic partner be brought--”

“I--I’ll tell the dorm leader that you helped me with class!”

Cater grins, “That’s one way to make it up to me~ I guess for now I should leave you with a warning, right?” he tilts his head to call out to you, “The same goes for you [Y/N]-san! I can’t have you getting someone other than Ace and Deuce in trouble!”

He can't help but feel a sense of pride when you chuckle at what he had said, turning around to give him a peace sign as you walk by the second year.

“I’ll try to do an effort to hide in the closet next time.”

The second year takes your hand and kisses it, apologizing for the trouble and closing his eyes when your hands cup his cheek and pull him in for a kiss, the action making Cater look down at his phone and open whatever app he saw first.

You wave goodbye as Cater closes the door quickly, not giving you a chance to look at your second year lover fully as the both of you walk down the corridors of Heartslabyul in silence.

“So.”

“Hm?”

Green eyes keep looking at his phone, scrolling through Magicam absentmindedly but sparring you one look as he sees you scratching at a hickey--he would have left a bigger one-- the second year had left behind.

“Was he any good?”

In his defense, what had started between you two was clearly labeled as a ‘no feelings allowed, we are just here to have fun’ relationship. You seemed to understand his nature better than most and were down for something that wasn’t super serious and borderline erotic in a sense.

Cater was sure that you two had done it in at least one surface in every common room in Heartslabyul. The thought kept him awake at night, actually.

“Was he any good…” you repeat the question, “As good as I’m going to get from a second year.”

“Oh the poor guy.” Cater can’t help the snort that escapes him as you two walk down a set of stairs leading to the dorm’s entrance, “It is surprising you went for him, didn’t you mention that you liked the older type?”

“Well after a certain ‘older type’ decided to end things, I thought I should try my hand at something different. Change my ways, you know?”

He didn’t know. Cater had no idea what you were talking about, in fact. Why would you have to change your ways for anyone? You were amazing, interesting, entertaining and attention-grabbing all wrapped up in an older sibling type package that he had admitted to being attracted to when he had brought up the ‘friends with benefits’ proposition. If you changed in anyway he would be disappointed--

Dammit he was doing it again.

“If you want to start a relationship with someone in Heartslabyul, I would recommend Trey. He’s handsome, hardworking and you wouldn’t go hungry. Perfect man material right there.”

Cater knew that the small jab was directed at him so he decided to switch subjects, preferring not to linger in the awkward feeling that came with the consequences of his actions.

He ended things because he had broken the rules you both had set in place. Feelings weren't allowed and yet he had let them burrow deep inside his heart and fester like some sort of unknown virus. Cater didn't care for them so he nipped the problem in the bud, broke things off in an amicable manner and moved on.

But, like with everything in his life, it had all been an act.

If it had been just the sex keeping him awake, he would have understood. He's a healthy young man and some of the activities you two engaged in would make any first year jealous. And for a while the memories of you warming his bed generally did start to make him yearn for your warmth.

It was the possibilities of what you could have had that were driving him insane.

Would you have said no to a date? The only thing you two did when you were alone were have sex, make fun of Magicam models, sleep and then have sex some more so surely you would have liked a change of scenery as well.

But he didn't know you as much as he wished he did. Nights in his bed had been spent tossing and turning as to what your answer would have been. Why did he even care? You both still hung out, you still had his number, it wasn't like either of you were dead to each other!

Cater just didn't know how to react to you seeing someone else, if that is what you were even doing in the first place.

"Trey-senpai? I guess...he is rather sweet, isn't he?"

"In more ways than one."

"...but I will have to pass." you rub the back of your neck, "You know I don't like sweets."

The clock strikes ten as Cater's eyes take all of you in, his mind blanking out for a response before he clicks his tongue and points behind him.

"Say, Prefect, I think you may have left something in my room. Mind if I give it to you now?"

-----

"Oh. Your case cracked."

"Yeah. Dropped my phone. Bummer, huh?"

"Here I thought you held onto that thing for dear life, can I see it?"

Cater laughs as he takes his phone out of his back pocket and hands it to you, turning back to dig in his drawer for the sole sock that you had left about a month ago.

Who was he bullshitting? He was panicking, plain and simple. Here he was, rummaging through his drawer like an idiot as he pretended to have a sock that he knew he didn't have all to keep you with him for a couple more minutes.

Stars, who was he? He didn't know himself anymore.

“And...dammit.” he laughs as he closes the bottom drawer of his heart closet, “Couldn’t find it. I’m sorry [Y/N]-chan, I shouldn’t have taken your time like that. Do you want me to walk you back to the dorm...or maybe you wanna talk on the phone while you walk there?”

He goes to grab his phone but stops as he turns to look at you, your fingers tracing the giant crack on the case before tapping it twice in quick succession.

“[Y/N]--”

“We both really messed up, huh?”

Cater blinks as your eyes stare at him as if, for a brief moment, you could look through him. Through the act, the apathy, the very thing that was keeping him at the seams but also making him feel like he would burst from the inside out.

“...what do you mean?”

You keep gazing at him for a couple of seconds before smiling as you hold up the phone.

“I shouldn’t have snuck into Heartslabyul to just get a need met...and you shouldn’t have walked into that poor student’s room without knocking.” you wave the phone around, “Now your precious item is broken.”

The conversation didn’t feel right. It felt as if you were saying something else and all Cater needed to do was read in between the lines.

But he refused to, he didn’t want to go below surface level. Everything would get so much more complicated if you both took that plunge.

Yet he was feeling daring, the smile on your face a clear challenge as he walked over to you and grabbed the edge of his phone.

“Maybe I wanted to break it.”

Silence reigns in the room as you two stare at each other, both of your hands holding onto the edge of his phone and daring the other to let go. He smiles and tugs on his edge, the movement effortlessly pulling you towards him as you snicker when the edge of your foot touches his.

“Cater.” you whisper as your hands slowly let go of the phone.

“Yes?” he whispers back, purposefully leaning over you as he places the phone on his desk.

“Nothing. I just like saying your name.”

Whether he started it or you started it honestly didn’t matter to him, the only thing Cater cared about was pulling you close and pressing his lips against yours so he could stop listening to all of your complicated sentences.

He didn’t understand them, he didn’t understand you.

And yet you seemed to understand him probably better than he understood himself.

Arms are around his neck as you pull him close, Cater slowly walking you back to his bed as the back of your knees hit the comforter which causes both of you to fall down. You pull away to snicker at the action but are brought right back into the kiss by needy lips, Cater whispering your name as he pushed you upwards so that you would be pressed right against the wall--

He groans when you pull away and is surprised to be kissing a pair of fingers instead of your lips, your smile still as elusive as ever as you slowly push his face away.

“I have a lover, senpai.”

Cater rolls his eyes, “I don’t like those kinds of jokes.”

“I’m not joking. It’s late so I’m just going to go over to his room and tell him that you’ll cover for us, okay? Okay. ”

You pinch his nose as you try to push him away but find your wrists grabbed and locked in place, Cater giving you a hard glare as he presses his forehead against yours.

“I said I don’t like those kinds of jokes.” he leans in and gives you another kiss, “You’re not his lover.”

“Who says that?”

“[Y/N]-chan did.” Cater’s lips press against yours again as he makes his way down to the offending hickey the second year had left on you, “The way you talk about him, the way you weren’t even embarrassed at getting caught. You are toying with the heart of one of my second years and I don’t think I can forgive you for that.”

He nips at the bruise before placing his lips on it, teeth gently opening up more blood vessels to form a much darker shade on your skin than what was left there before.

“Is that all you can’t forgive me for?”

Cater smiles against your skin as he takes your wrists and leads your arms to wrap around his neck, pulling you into his lap as he answers your question with a kiss.

His tongue meets yours this time around, both of you giggling at the familiar taste. When was the last time you two had kissed like this? Nevermind that, the question was already too annoying to think about. Instead, Cater moves his hips upwards as he groans into your lips at the wanted friction.

He takes a hold of your hips as he pushes you down to meet him mid-movement, his hips rolling up as yours are pushed down. The movement is sloppy and the action itself feels so unsatisfying but Cater almost feels as if this is the only thing he deserves from you. If either of you enjoyed this it would mean you two went too far--

“Haha...look at your face.”

Green eyes look at you as you cup the man’s face, pressing a gentle kiss on his nose as you start to roll your hips on his, meeting him halfway.

“You probably want to cum inside, right Cater-senpai?”

His hips jump at the mere thought, the idea of you laying on your side as his cum drips down from your sex all the way down your thighs.

“We did it with protection a lot ~We always followed the rules of our agreement…”

Hands dive between you two, Cater’s eyes never leaving yours as he works to get his pants off while his hands try to unbutton yours as well. You smile and meet him halfway again, taking your own bottoms off and tossing them carelessly to the side as you both are left in nothing but your underwear.

“Every time we did it--you always looked like you wanted to do something else--”

Cater takes the chance of you biting your lower lip to go a bit faster, the tip of his cock rubbing against you at a faster speed as he changed position quickly and hooked your knees over his elbows.

“And at first---at first I thought it was just you getting bored…”

He gasps when two of your fingers press right at the tip of his cock, the way he was moving his hips allowing it to rub comfortably against the padding of your fingers as you gently cooed at the precum gathering there.

“But one time I was able to see it. See what you really wanted--!”

His own hand makes his way in between the mess of hips and stuttered movements, his fingers tracing a familiar pattern up and down your sex as he feels you pull him out of his boxers and start to pump in rhythm.

“If...If you cum after me...I’ll let you cum inside...”

It’s starting to get hotter, Cater feels like he can see his own breath fogging up his vision.

“Count it as reward…”

The coil in his stomach is tightening, your hands moving faster as his stutters with the rhythm you were setting.

“For being honest with me at least one time.”

It’s a sticky mess, the white stuff sticking to your belly and his as he rides out his orgasm against your hand and stopping altogether when the feeling gets too much. His fingers work overtime before your back arches and you give into yours as well, your toes curling for a moment before your feet hit the mattress unceremoniously.

He didn’t know where in the world that had come from or what possessed you to talk like that...but that was probably the hardest he had released in the month you two stopped interacting with one another.

Cater looks at the mess once again before moving to clean it up, stopping only when he feels a hand tug at the front of his shirt and a pair of lips meeting his all over again.

“Offer is still on the table, senpai.”

You unbutton the first few buttons of your shirt, smiling as larger hands batted yours away to continue the job.

“Please do your best to hold out longer.”

[mrsgiovanna]

Nostalgia

A bit of a drawn out scenario, slightly angsty as the reader fights with certain emotions, the beginnings of Don Giorno x reader relationship.

TW: mentions of injuries, part 5 spoilers,

Nostalgia is a strange phenomenon. Sometimes it can fill you with warm, comforting memories that imbue you with joy, other times it can instill a heavy melancholy that refuses to be shaken. You had been going back and forth between these two states ever since that bizarre week had changed the course of your life just over 3 years ago.

Septembers in Italy were beautiful, the sweltering summer heat begins to mellow out for milder temperatures and an amber glow starts to tint the atmosphere. Today, however, was especially important to you. September 27th… Bruno’s birthday… As you sit in front of your vanity mirror, adding the finishing touches to your outfit for the day, you can’t help but reminisce about the all the different things Bruno taught you as you were growing up. He was the one who taught you how to braid your hair and encouraged you to be a bit less abrasive in your mannerisms. It’s funny when you think about it, but you were groomed into a lady by the most elegant man you’d ever known.

You had first met Bruno when you were 10 years old after taking the initiation test with Polpo. You were forced into an impossible situation, and joining Passione was the only way to survive. Being among the younger members under Polpo’s control meant that you had encountered Bruno on a number of missions. At first you found him so vexing with his perfectly cut hair and neat, fashionable clothes. You on the other hand could have easily been mistaken for a street urchin had it not been for your naturally pretty face and sparkly eyes. An unlikely friendship had bloomed between you and the serene boy, and it wouldn’t be long before you both started to treat each other as siblings. Your heart was always unclouded when you followed Bruno, so you made a promise to yourself to protect him at all costs.

As the years went on, you’d trained with your stand to get stronger. Yours was one that comprised of two acts, the first awakened after you were impaled by the stand arrow during Polpo’s test, and the second, when you and Bruno were on a particularly dangerous mission. You had both somehow underestimated your enemy… You just remember being engulfed by a sea of red, not realizing that it was flowing from you. You watched the enemy stand user move towards Bruno, and your broken body moved before you could even think and landed the finishing blow in one graceful action. A few days later you woke up in a complete daze to a rather angry faced Bruno who reluctantly told you what had happened. You had hoped your poor condition would be enough of a deterrent for the scolding you knew you were about to receive, but luck was not on your side… After that day Bruno silently vowed to keep you safe.

One by one Bruno recruited members for his unit, stitching together a group of misfits into the family you had grown to love. You shared a special bond with each of them- they were the band of brothers you so desperately wanted. It was a shame it didn’t last longer…

You were jolted out of your reverie by the shrill ring of your cellphone. You didn’t need to look at the caller ID to know it was Giorno. You contemplated taking the call, but you felt a bit fragile, and knew that if he had heard how you had sounded, he’d want to go to visit Bruno’s grave with you. Aware of the fact that if he couldn’t get a hold of you, he’d just come to look for you, you reluctantly ignored the call and placed the cellphone in your bag, continuing with readying yourself for the day. You just needed a bit of time to visit Bruno on your own first.

You’d finished off the braid running over the side of your head with a familiar gold clip, and fastened a peculiar looking necklace with a golden zipper hanging from it around your neck. Usually donning these accessories when you needed comfort, it was days like these, the nostalgia ridden days in which comfort was what you needed the most. Giving yourself a quick once over in the full length mirror that was mounted next to the entrance of your room you decided you had done enough and it was time for you to head out.

The first thing you were greeted with when you stepped outside your apartment building was the luxurious black car waiting for you, sent by Giorno no doubt. Slightly grimacing, you gracefully climbed in expecting to find him there but the car was empty save for your driver and the guard who took up the front end. The young Don did, however, leave a large bouquet of white flowers for you to take with you as an offering. It seems with the ignored call, he had gotten the message. You didn’t understand why you still needed a guard. Over the years since Giorno had become Don, he had taken you off all dangerous missions, and recently, you hadn’t been sent on any missions at all... Looking at the beautiful flowers, some types you hadn’t even seen before, you were certain that Giorno created them with his stand ability, and was suddenly overcome with a pang of guilt, almost certain that your actions had slighted your boss. You had a complex relationship with Giorno. You were both the same age, and when he first joined Passione, you were intrigued by him... he seemed so much more mature than you were- it left you wondering what were the circumstances that had forged him in this manner. He was an incredibly handsome young man, and every time he had spoken to you, or had spoken in general, you had felt your face heat up. If only those warm, fluttery feelings could have lasted…

You didn’t blame him for losing your friends, you could honestly say, you never really did blame him at all, he was, unfortunately, an easy target for your wrath and sorrow because everything had spiraled out of control after his arrival, almost as if he was the catalyst. So in his first months as the Don, not only did he have to deal with reforming Passione, but with your ruthless insults as well, much to your chagrin though, he handled both of those challenges with the grace of a prince. After some time you had realized you were selfishly focusing on your own loss, not registering the fact that Giorno, Mista and Trish had all lost these people as well, and were all processing their feelings.

You resolved to apologize to Giorno, and he was gracious enough to accept without going further into it. With that you allowed yourself to get closer to him, and it wouldn’t be long before you realized that his convictions were as noble and selfless as could be.

You had finally arrived at the site. Slowly walking towards the beautiful headstone you laid the bouquet in front of it and sat on the soft grass beside his grave, just staring at the lettering on the ornate stone for a few moments. Saying a silent prayer, you could only hope that Bruno was at peace, and that he was watching over you all, hopefully with pride rather than disappointment.

Time had flown by, and you only noticed that the light was slowly starting to fade when a cold wind had ripped through the area. Hugging yourself to keep warm you stood up and gave his resting spot one last glance before you could turn to leave, which was proving more difficult than you thought, feeling the tears sting the corners of your eyes, threatening to fall.

Giorno knew that you were purposefully ignoring his attempts to contact you, so he gave you the space you needed. He wasn’t sure when his feelings for you intensified, but he was aware that the things he did for you went well beyond his sense of duty towards Bucciarati. He could understand why you wanted to keep your distance, and he convinced himself that assuring your safety and loving you from afar would be okay, but the cracks in his resolve revealed themselves every time he spoke to you. For all intents and purposes, he was going to let you have this day to yourself, but when he called the driver who was still waiting for you, and found out that you were still at Bruno’s grave, he had to go after you. He grabbed his coat, knowing that you’d probably be freezing in the nippy evening air and decided to drive himself to you.

When he got to you, it was as he expected, you were holding yourself as you stood up from your spot. Your shoulders trembled, although he wasn’t sure if it was from the cold or the emotions swirling around in your mind… no matter, he got out of the car and made his way towards you.

Suddenly, you felt something warm envelop you. The feint scent of expensive cologne was familiar to you and when you turned around to meet intense emerald eyes looking at you, you knew why.

“Cara… I was unsure of whether to come… I just wanted to make sure you were okay… Well as okay as can be expected on a day like this.”

The gentle quality of his voice was so soothing, you wanted to reply that you were fine and that he didn’t have to worry about you, but your words were trapped in your throat as Giorno raised his hand to your face to wipe away a few tears that had betrayed you.

Noticing how you battled to choke back your sobs, Giorno spoke. “It’s okay to let it out. Get it out of your system so you can heal. I don’t know exactly what you’ve been through in your life, but I do know that you’re pretty special to have won over everyone… even Abbacchio”.

He was shocked to hear your soft laughter. He looked down at you to see the most beautiful smile blossom on your face. You didn’t mean to laugh at him, you were just reminded of the exchanges between Abbacchio and Giorno and couldn’t help but laugh at the memories, or the fact that Don Giovanna still seemed perturbed by them.

“Come on cara, it’s starting to get dark and cold, and I’m sure you haven’t eaten anything all day. Mista, Trish and Fugo are waiting for us at Libeccio… Come, I won’t take no for an answer, ” Giorno said as he extended his hand to you. You looked up to see him smiling at you, and a sense of solace washed over you. You weren’t sure if it was his gentle demeanor or the way the setting sun illuminated his golden curls like a halo, but your heart felt at ease for the first time in years. You took his hand, silently returning his smile. The warmth kept growing within you, it was familiar, and a comforting reminder of happier times.

[spookyboywhump]

While Cain is,,,, enjoying his birthday, Zander is having his own issue

Takes place on the same day as This Piece but isn’t really connected, and heavily references and discusses the events of last year’s April First, which, heed the warnings please

CW: Discussions of death, references to: mock execution, death, suicidal thoughts, unsafe gun practices, sibling death tw, alcoholism, drinking, if you feel the need to avoid this one then please do

***

 “Do you remember what happened that night…?” Zander asked slowly. He’d been quiet so far, ever since he stumbled in through Elias’ front door, clearly upset but unable to say why. He was finally beginning to gather his thoughts, think clearer, which he sure was of some relief to Elias.

 “What night…?” He asked gently, sitting beside him on the floor. He hadn’t touched any of the furniture on his way in, when Eli sat on the couch Zander immediately, instinctively, knelt on the floor beside him, and he still had yet to notice. When he was in a better mood, he would laugh it off, say it was from the “dog brain”, but he wasn’t in that mood right now, he wasn’t exactly sure what he was feeling aside from bad, all he knew was that he was on the floor, and he moved for sit with him, and Eli was there which was the only good thing he had right now.

 “A-April first, last year.” He said. He didn’t keep track of days at the best of times, it was by complete chance he saw the calendar the day before, dread creeping up on him the closer and closer it got to midnight. He’d been a mess all day but he couldn’t explain it to his moms, didn’t even know how to begin, so instead he came here.

 “Zander I… I never could keep track of the date there, I’m sorry…” He said slowly.

 “I-It was this time last year, and I, I left for a while, Cain pulled me out but he made you stay- remember? And then I- I came back a while later and I… I couldn’t say anything…”

 “I… think I remember…” He nodded slowly. “You weren’t gone for too long, long enough I got worried of course, but when you came back you were… quiet… I knew something was wrong but you seemed like you wanted to be left alone…”

 “So I- I didn’t tell you then.” Zander said, finally getting confirmation to what he’d been wondering. Everything after the incident was a haze in his mind, but now that he was sure he could remember that, he remembered that he wanted to tell him so bad and he couldn’t, as if the words were trapped inside of him, impossible to get out. Elias never asked about it so he never brought it up, until now anyway when he seemed to feel the opposite, as if he needed to get it out. 

 “No… I don’t remember much else from that night, I know while you were gone I heard something outside but I wasn’t sure what- everything was muffled in that room, you know? But when you came back and you weren’t hurt I thought everything was fine…” He said, and Zander shook his head, shifting to pull his knees up to his chest. He was vaguely aware of the fact he was shaking, he’d been shaking the entire day it was just normal at that point.

 “H-he dragged me out of there and, and he tied my hands behind my back, and he blindfolded me…” He started, though he knew this wasn’t exactly out of the ordinary for Cain. He still remembered it clearly though, everything before the haze was so vivid and no matter how hard he tried to ignore it, it was somehow all he could think about. “He, Uh, took me outside and made me kneel, outback I saw later and he- fuck, he put a gun to my fucking head, what the fuck?!” He cried as it finally dawned on him, as if it took a whole year for him to realize that it wasn’t as harmless as he’d hoped it was. He didn’t look at Eli, he didn’t see the look on his face but he could only imagine it was one of horror.

 “H-He what…?”

 “He put a gun to my head, he fucking- I thought he was going to fucking kill me! I-I begged for my goddamn life because I really thought he was going to fucking kill me!” He was rambling now, speaking faster than he could think. “And-and I thought, I thought about it because I thought I wanted to die but I didn’t, I was so scared I begged him and he went- he took a few steps back and he fired it, he shot at me and purposefully missed and for a moment I was so fucking scared I thought I had died!” He anxiously raked a hand through his own hair, a desperate attempt to soothe himself it seemed.

 “Zander- that’s fucking torture.” Elias told him, keeping his voice low and steady, almost as if he were forcing himself to stay calm. 

 “It is, isn’t it?! He- I thought, I thought he killed me, but he didn’t and he fucking laughed at me! I was so fucking angry I just started yelling at him, I can’t even remember what I said I just yelled and yelled and I couldn’t- couldn’t say anything when I got back.” He said. “But I- but I sat there, and I, I kept thinking about what would’ve happened if he hadn’t missed!”

 “Hey, don’t-“

 “No, no I mean, I mean I didn’t know and that scared me, if he had actually killed me what- what would’ve happened?! My moms, they would’ve never known, they wouldn’t have known I was alive all that time only to fucking die there, and you, what would you have done if I was gone, I-I wouldn’t have even gotten to say goodbye, and, and we hadn’t even met Cathal yet now that I think about it, I wouldn’t have gotten to know him, and maybe- maybe that would’ve been better for him but he made me so happy and I would’ve never gotten that!” He didn’t realize he was crying until his voice cracked, attempting to blink the tears from his eyes. 

 “He didn’t kill you though, you, you’re here, you survived everything…” Elias said gently. He tried to place his hand on Zander’s arm but he quickly jerked away, pushing himself back from him. He stared at him with wide eyes, taking slow breaths as tears streamed down his face. He backed off though, lowering his hand even as he looked worried about him.

 “I-I’m sorry, I’m sorry not… not now…” He said, and Eli nodded. He went back to anxiously combing through his own hair, still shaking as he sat there and murmured, “I know, I know I-I’m here, and I’m glad I’m here, I just… I can’t believe he fucking did that!”

 “I mean, it is Cain you’re talking about, is that really that far out…?”

 “Yes! I mean, no, no not completely I guess, I just, I didn’t expect it, he usually didn’t do things like that, I just… I wish I knew what he’d been thinking. I wish I knew why he fucking did that, I wish I could ask him but he’s fucking gone and I don’t know where the hell he fucking is!” 

 “We’re looking…” He tried to offer as comfort, but it wasn’t enough for him right now. He felt sick to his stomach, he’d broken out in a cold sweat and he couldn’t stop shaking, he couldn’t even focus on his own racing thoughts, all he could focus on was dragging a hand through his hair over and over and it took him far too long to realize that he was pulling out strands of his own hair. He finally lowered his hand, and hesitantly, Elias moved closer to him, still careful not to touch him. 

 “I could’ve died…” He said, his voice softer now, unsteady. “I- There were so, so many times when I could’ve died, but… that time it was so, so close, and I… fuck, Eli, it was bad...”

 “I’m sorry, Zander…” He said softly. He scooted closer to him, enough they were barely touching, and he seemed to finally feel comfortable enough with this. After a few moments he reached over and grabbed Eli’s hand, squeezing just slightly, and for a while neither of them spoke, Zander taking slow, shuddering breaths as he finally seemed to calm down, or at least, tire himself out. 

 “I don’t feel good…” He murmured after a while, and Elias looked up at him. 

 “You want something for it…?”

 “You’re going to offer me beer, aren’t you?” He glanced down at him.

 “Yeah, pretty much.” He said, and Zander hesitated before nodding.

 “Yeah, sure.” He said. He knew he should’ve denied it, he knew Eli would drink too and he didn’t want him to but he couldn’t tell him what to do right now, not when he felt as though he were falling apart. He was at the point that he desperately wished he’d taken some painkillers before coming over here, anything to dull the way he felt, but for right now, he assumed alcohol would have to do.

 ***

 Zander drank until he passed out. He got loud first- he usually didn’t drink around him so Elias didn’t see it often but he started rambling again, even less coherent this time, a whole lot of ”Fuck Cain!” that he would’ve found funny if he wasn’t so worried about him. He managed to get him to his room while he was still just barely coherent, but he passed out not long after that, and he didn’t mind.

 Hours had passed and he still couldn’t sleep himself. Instead he laid there, clinging to Zander as tight as he could, listening to his snoring, a sound he’d long since gotten used to. He didn’t know how he held himself together so long but he couldn’t help it now, tears welled up in his eyes as he held onto him, still processing the fact that he could’ve lost him. 

 He loved Zander. He could never replace his brother but he didn’t need to “replace” him, he wasn’t Everett but he was his own person, a person that Eli had come to love the same way he loved his brother and if he had died, he wasn’t sure what he would’ve done, he wasn’t sure if he would’ve even survived being with Cain if he weren’t there. He needed him, he needed the relationship they had, and the thought of losing him that soon hurt him so much.

 They were safe now, though. They were free, they weren’t dogs anymore, he didn’t want to have to worry about it anymore. He knew there were problems he should have worried about but right now, as he laid awake clinging to him and crying as quietly as he could, he decided to ignore those things, and just be thankful Zander was alive.

[rocorambles]

Kinktober Day 25: Dacryphilia/Crying Kink

Pairing: Kuroo x Reader

Genre/Warnings: Yandere, Toxic Relationships, NSFW, Pseudo-Incest (step-siblings), Dacryphilia, Crying Kink, Non-Con, Blackmail, Slapping/Smacking, Degradation, Possessive and Jealous Behavior

When Kuroo’s father had remarried while he was in highschool, he wasn’t sure how to feel about you. Family had always been a bit of a sensitive topic for him, especially since it’s only been his grandparents and father for most of his life, so trying to adjust to someone around his age who now lives under the same roof as him was difficult, especially someone of the opposite gender. But in your defense you make it easy to find a rhythm, always so sweet, so polite, and it doesn’t take long for him to fully accept that he now has a younger sister. 

His teammates are curious about you and they sneak peaks as Kuroo and you walk to school, exchanging smiles and shy words with you when you come and wait for him to finish practice. Pride blooms in Kuroo when he sees how the boys he’s become so close to accept you and love you almost just as much as he does and fondness grows inside him as the two of you grow closer and it’s a common sight to find him tutoring you or you sprawled on his bedroom floor as you play a game while he works at his desk. 

But time flies and before he knows it, you’re sobbing, flinging your arms around him as he packs his car with all his college necessities and he holds you tight, reassuring you that he’d be sure to come back every break. And the two of you part ways for a bit as you begin your third-year at Nekoma and Kuroo begins university. 

You’ve changed so quickly in the past year and as you enter your third-year as a legal adult, suddenly eyes linger a little longer on you and love confessions find their way into your locker more often than not. You’re now the manager of the volleyball team, and although you’re just as close as ever to the boys your age, still laughing at Fukunaga’s puns, still playing video games with Kenma, you can’t deny that something’s different about the relationship between Yamamoto and you. 

Yamamoto’s always been a flustered fool when it came to the opposite sex and you were no exception and you giggle when you remember how he’d stumble over simple words whenever he tried talking to you and shyly hide behind his upperclassmen whenever you dropped by to wait for Kuroo to finish practice. But as he got to know you better, something had changed, and yes, of course you were still a girl, but you became so much more than that to him and he felt something deeper, something warmer building inside of him as he made more attempts to truly court you. And suddenly it’s your turn to be flustered at this new side of Yamamoto as he sends you texts that make your heart flutter, as he hangs out with you one-on-one on the weekends, and as he looks at you with an expression you’d only read of in sappy romance novels. 

This continues until winter break, but as you get ready to spend some quality time at home with the family you put that unsure future aside as you eagerly wait for Kuroo to come back home and when his tall, lean form enters the house for the first time in months, you jump into his arms, the two of you immediately catching up about everything that’s happened in your lives. And even though you think everything’s back to normal, the same can’t be said for Kuroo and he struggles to control himself as you prance around in booty shorts that barely cover your cheeks, your braless breasts bouncing around with every step, your nipples obviously protruding from under your skimpy pajama tops. And he clenches his teeth when you jump on his bed, casually chattering away, ignorant of the image you make with your barely covered body on top of his bed sheets. 

But one day when the two of you are hanging out, your phone display keeps on flashing and noticing his curious stare, you shyly tell him about Yamamoto, about all the flirting and something dark and hot churns inside of Kuroo as he listens to you talk about another man, as he sees your face grow flustered at the thought of someone else, as he realizes that he’s not the only one who sees you as the woman you’ve become. 

And you make it so easy for him to show you that he’s the only man you need in your life, not even questioning why he closes and locks his door, not even blinking an eye as he joins you on the bed as you instinctively move to cuddle close to him like you used to when you were younger. But as much as he loves your naive ignorance, he adores the way your brows scrunch in confusion as his large hand slips underneath your shirt, the way your voice comes out breathy, weak, and unsure when you ask him what he’s doing as he moves on top of you, trapping your body underneath his. And when realization finally sinks in, he feels his cock twitch as tears begin to stream down your face as he hungrily kisses you while his fingers twist and roll your nipples. 

He’s not delusional enough to think any of this is right and yet, he can’t help but think you look the most beautiful like this, tears decorating your face, your features twisted as you sob, all because of him. And he wonders how many other ways he can make you cry, how he can have you sobbing and wailing even more, even louder. Thankfully he has all the time in the world to explore over the next week and he uses that to his advantage as he experiments, relishing in the nuances and variety of the visuals and music you produce. 

Pain seems to elicit the loudest sounds and he watches as you wail with every harsh bite, with every smack to your face, ass, and pussy, arousal pooling inside of him when he sees the fat teardrops roll down your face as he purposefully slams his cock inside of you a tad earlier than he should. But humiliation and degradation make you cry the most and when he sees the way your bottom lip quivers, the body wracking sobs that overtake you, he can’t stop the filth that comes pouring out of his mouth, sick sadistic glee rising inside of him as you become more and more of a broken mess underneath him with every cruel word.  

And when winter break finally ends, Kuroo smugly returns to college, mind at peace knowing that you’re all his and only his, his phone much fuller than it had been a week ago and he hums as he flips through the numerous videos and photos he’d taken of you, his other hand reaching down to stroke his cock as he admires the way the flash makes your tears glisten like jewels, makes the helplessness in your eyes shine even more clearly. He can’t wait until the next time he’s back home.  

[hedwigstalons]

FabFiveFeb - Gordon (part 2)

After my first proper attempt at whump it didn't feel right to leave the boys broken so here is my attempt at putting them back together.  I also needed to do something with the marshmallows that @gumnut-logic pinged my way.

This is a continuation of my Gordon (although it ended up more about Virgil) FabFiveFeb fic from here

xoxoxox

The flight home was tortuous.  Thank goodness for autopilot Gordon thought as he stayed glued by his brother’s side, only leaving Two’s medical bay to be on hand at the controls for take-off and landing.  He spent as little time as possible in the cockpit.  It didn’t feel right to be sat up front all alone knowing her true pilot was out cold in more ways than one.

 Monitoring equipment provided the soundtrack to the journey.  Rhythmic bleeps that gave reassuring evidence that Virgil was still alive.  Just.  

Gordon was well versed in the symptoms and treatment of hypothermia.  It had formed a core part of his WASP first aid training.  Sudden and prolonged immersion in cold water was a known hazard for the World Aquanaut Service Patrol and the hypothermia training had been extensive and detailed.  Unfortunately this training also made Gordon aware that Thunderbird Two was ill-equipped to deal with the severity of cooling his brother had experienced.  He applied all the warming packs and heated blankets he could find but external warming alone was not enough.  Virgil’s vital signs were only showing minimal improvements and were still too low for comfort.

 Once on the ground and in the hanger he had was pushed to one side by an anxious Scott.  The command for him to shower and change was clipped and abrupt.  Gordon tried not to take it personally.  He had observed his eldest brother at peak worry too many times before and knew the curt attitude was a symptom of the stress Scott was trying but failing to conceal.  It still hurt though, to be left standing alone in the hangar while the brother he had watched over and fought for was whisked away to the infirmary without him.

 Entering the infirmary a short while later he was not surprised to find Scott keeping a watching vigil over Virgil.

 His eldest brother rounded on him before he had even taken two steps into the room.

 “What the hell happened out there?  One moment you are loading up to come home and the next Virgil is practically dead in a cave.”

 Gordon was too tired for this.  Too tired be submissive to Scott’s berating.  He ignored the Commander, side-stepping to get round to the bed.  He needed to see for himself how Virgil was doing.

 Purposefully and methodically he checked the monitors. He was pleased to see that a heated IV had been set up, allowing Virgil to be warmed from the inside.  Virgil’s lips were still cracked from the cold and dehydration but no longer had the deathly blue tinge they had shown earlier. His skin too had a more healthy flush.

 Gordon reached and touched Virgil’s forehead, needing to satisfy himself that the death chill really had gone in a way that the numbers on a digital display just couldn’t.  

 Eyelids fluttered at the touch and confused chestnut eyes cracked open.  

 Virgil tried to sit up.  The mass of blankets on him felt hot and oppressive.  He was prevented from moving too far by a steadying hand on his chest.

 “Whoa, big guy.  You aren’t cooked yet.  Gotta stay put for a bit longer”

 The hand pressed him gently but firmly back down to the bed.

 “Feel…hot.  Thirsty.”

 “I know.  But that’s only because your core is still chilled.  You gave us a bit of a fright back there.”  Gordon glanced up at Scott, finally acknowledging the man he has so far ignored.  WASP took charge over Air Force, this was his specialist area after all.  “He needs a glucose drink.  Warmed.”

 The drink was duly produced and Gordon held the cup while Virgil drank gently through a straw.  While Scott and Virgil might be closer in age and have a deep sibling friendship it was easy to forget that it was Virgil and Gordon that had the symbiotic working relationship.  Each was deeply attuned to the needs of the other.

 With each point of temperature rise Virgil grew more coherent.  More understanding of the situation he was in and the need to submit to the ministrations of his brothers.

 Inactivity did not suit Virgil.

 It was with some relief when he was finally allowed to sit up, ready to leave the infirmary.  The pronouncement made that he no longer needed any assistance in keeping his temperature regulated.  He went to slide off the bed when he realised his predicament.

 “Um…Gordo.  Where are my shorts?”

 “Probably in the cave somewhere.  I was able to grab your uniform but I wasn’t going to go hunting around for your underwear.”

 “You mean I….”

 “Yup.  Naked as the day you were born.”  Gordon grinned at the now blushing pilot.  “You really went the whole hog out there.  Don’t worry, I brought some clothes down for you.”  He indicated a pile of clothes in the corner.

 “Gordy.  Thanks. I don’t know what would have happened without you there.”

 Gordon’s face grew dark.  

 “I do.”  The response was blunt.  A stark reminder of just how close Virgil had come to crossing the ultimate line.  The smile quickly returned though.  “Come on.  I’ll leave you to get dressed.  Don’t take too long though.  I tasked Alan with making some hot chocolate, just to finish off the warming process”

 Virgil brightened up immensely at this idea.

 “You let Alan loose with the hot chocolate?  You do know how much sugar and cream that kid adds, right?”

 “Yup.  That’s why I asked him rather than anyone else.  And as long as Scott hasn’t changed his hiding place I bet there will be marshmallows too.”

 Gordon swept out of the room leaving a much revived Virgil to scrabble for his clothes.  It wasn’t every day they got to raid Scott’s snack stash.  And if Scott got mad they could always claim the marshmallows were medicinal.

[whatcouldgowrong-ohthat]

Beauty and the Beast Ch.5 (Bucky x Reader)

Here’s the next chapter! Got a lot of fluffy stuff going on and a lot of Bucky and Reader interaction. Hope you like it!

Links to: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 6

And Masterlist

Summary: It took the kingdom of Hydra five years to finally take advantage of the disappearance of the Stark Kingdom. It took Prince Brock two weeks to make the small, unprotected village of Marveline hate his existence. His ways left Captain Rogers to go looking for help, hoping to find a royal family that could protect the people. But what happens when he hasn’t come back? It’s up to Bucky to find out what happened to his best friend and the royal siblings, but he never expected what’s to come.

Chapter Five

The sound of metal scraping against metal caught Y/N’s attention, pulling her out of her room and to the stairs. She was surprised to see that, attached to the banister, was something resembling a slide. It went from the top to the bottom, wrapping around and, at its feet, was Sam sticking a landing. A few feet away, Wanda and Rhodey were watching from a few feet away. While she was cheering him on, Rhodey didn’t look nearly as amused.

“You could’ve broken a candle,” Rhodey told him, rolling his eyes.

 “What’s going on?” Y/N looked around in confusion, earning their attention. Her paw brushed against the slide. “What is this?”

Sam smiled sheepishly as he explained, “Bucky made it.”

Her look of confusion left Rhodey even more amused. He added, “Guy must’ve noticed how we were struggling with getting down the stairs. We woke up to him showing Peter how to use it.”

“He didn’t have to do that,” she murmured, the sentence lost on her friends. “Just be careful. There isn’t any reason to use it as a toy or risk breaking it.”

Y/N walked around them and made her way to the study, missing the shared look of confusion that passed between the three. Rhodey eyed her cautiously, asking them, “Did she just accuse us of breaking things? After what she did to her room?”

“Let it go, Rhodey,” Wanda warned, giving him a knowing look.

Sam offered one of his signature cheeky grins, nudging Rhodey. “She’s exactly like her  brother. What did you expect?”

“SON OF A —” Panic raced through the three as Bucky’s shout rang through their ears. They all took off, quickly passed by Y/N as she hurried to the origin of the sound.

Bucky in the gardens.

“What happened?” she asked, her heart beating wildly in her chest. Wide eyes searched through the snow covered bushes, trees, and flowers until the sound of laughter cut through the pounding in her ears. She hurried, taking long strides down the cobblestone paths until Peter and Bucky came into view. Peter was on a table near him while Bucky was sitting in the snow. He was covered in the cold powder. Arms, shoulders, and head were decked out in white, thighs vanishing underneath the new layer of snow. Y/N immediately slowed her steps at the sight, raising an eyebrow because she had never seen Bucky in so much white. He looked almost pure. But then she noticed that cheeky grin and those brilliant eyes of his and that word “almost” rang in her head again.

“Do I want to know what happened?” 

The boys couldn’t whip around fast enough at the sound of Y/N’s voice. Peter’s sheepish smile and shuffling made Y/N shake her head. Meanwhile, Bucky was quick to rise to his feet, brushing off the snow and shaking it off his head. 

“I might’ve had something to do with it,” another voice said as a wheelbarrow came around the corner. 

“Scott,” she breathed, voice wavering.

“Y/N.” He grinned, his wonky wheel lifting him up to create the slightest crook of his body. “I haven’t seen you around here in years.”

Bucky’s gaze focused intently on Y/N. She was on a first name basis with the castle’s gardener? Wasn’t she a royal? Why would she spend her time here and with a commoner? Pulling himself from his thoughts, he asked, “You came here a lot?”

“Before the incident,” Scott explained. “Y/N was my right hand here.”

“Is that right?” Bucky looked from Scott to Y/N, boyish smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

Y/N rolled her eyes. “Don’t overthink it.” The tone in her voice signaled the end of the conversation. Bucky wanted to press, to ask more questions and figure out what made her tick, but the way she looked away from him showed that it wasn’t his place. Or at the very least, now wasn’t the time.

“At first I thought I was here to find a way to help him water the winter’s flowers. I turned away for a couple minutes and he hit the tree. Dropped a ton of snow on me,” Bucky explained, knowing it was time to change the subject. “Something about an initiation process?”

Y/N nodded, understanding exactly what had happened. “Scott likes pranking everyone when they come here.”

Silence fell. No one knew what exactly to say and suddenly there was this level of awkwardness that had Y/N feeling like she was maybe intruding instead of living in the moment. Clearing her throat, she took a couple steps back, completely oblivious to the three friends peeking out from behind the nearby bush. However, Scott did see them. He noticed the way they gestured for Scott and Peter to beat it, to let Y/N and Bucky have a much needed moment. It had been a couple of days since the two had any solid interaction since the wolf incident. They needed this. 

“Hey, Pete,” Scott muttered, nudging the table the little teacup sat on. He didn’t have to say anything else. Instead, Peter silently jumped inside the wheelbarrow. “I have some new flowers to show the kid. He’s been cooped up inside way too long and I have to hear more about this feather duster. MJ, was her name, right?”

“Scott —“ Before Y/N could say anything else, before she could formulate an argument, the two wheeled away. They stood in silence with Y/N staring intently at the ground and Bucky watching her curiously. She sighed, shoulders slumping. In an odd way, she looked almost small. It was as if she was trying to curl into herself.

“So this was your sanctuary, huh?”

Y/N’s gaze shifted back to Bucky. When did he step closer to her? She tugged at the cloak around her shoulders, trying to shield more of her fur covered body. “You could say that.” Still focused intently on where Scott and Peter disappeared, she said, “I wanted to thank you. For that design you made on the stairs. Everyone really appreciates it.” 

“Of course. I was glad to help.”

She finally looked at him, noticing the way he focused so intently on her shoulder. “What?”

“How are your injuries?” Reaching for her cloak, his fingers brushed her fur. The instinctive growl she made earned an amused smirk. “Didn’t we talk about that?” 

Huffing softly, Y/N forced herself to look away from him. She didn’t want to focus on his touch or the way he was looking at her. They’d made steps in the right direction, but the idea of him being so close when she looked like this? It made her ill. It made her feel like she might throw up.

Bucky watched her carefully, his fingers gently brushing over her fur and knocking the cloak back. He stepped closer, frowning when he saw that she had taken the bandage off and was leaving her injuries unprotected. “Why aren’t these covered?”

“The bandages were itchy.”

He snorted, shaking his head. “You’re like a child, I swear. Are you sure Peter’s the youngest out of all of you?” 

Y/N glared at him. Well, she attempted to. It shifted into the smallest relaxation, the smallest hint of happiness, when she noticed how much Bucky had changed. They interacted and spoke now. They teased one another. It was different from any relationship she’d had with anyone except Sam. And even then, it had a different feel to it. “I’m pretty sure you haven’t had to bandage up an animal, Bucky.”

“But you aren’t an animal,” he reminded her. Glancing at her face, he shook his head in amusement. Her eyes were so big, her jaw slack. Apparently, she hadn’t expected him to say that. “You’re a human, Y/N. Now, will you let me clean that before you let it get infected?”

Bucky hadn’t expected her to accept his help. He’d expected an argument, irritation, maybe a bit of snarling. But sitting in the dining room while he tended to her shoulder? Getting her to laugh at a story of his childhood with Steve?

No, that was not what he had expected.

Still, he wasn’t complaining. Glancing up at her, he liked seeing the way her eyes lit up. The way she relaxed and smiled, she looked almost human. There didn’t seem to be an animal-bone in her body. 

“So let me get this straight. He purposefully went out of his way to get his ass kicked, was the scrawniest little thing, and would practically encourage men to beat him up?”

Bucky chuckled, strands of hair falling in his face. “Steve hated bullies.”

“Past tense?”

He hesitated, shrugging. Describing Steve was like describing home and family. It came so easily to him. “Pretty sure he still does. Not much has changed about him as we’ve gotten older.”

“Is that why he was such a good soldier?”

“Probably,” he muttered, the mention of war making his shoulders tense. “Steve was always looking for a fight, always wanting to stick up for the little guy.”

“Is that why he joined?”

Bucky paused, his hands hovering over her skin. Steve had always looked at Hydra as the biggest bully. How could he describe Steve’s soul, his entire reason for living, and sum it up in a couple sentences? “Steve had been sick up until we were considered men. It wasn’t until his body caught up with his mentality that Steve felt like he could actually do something. And at the time? Hydra was this monster that…They were awful, a plague on our home. And Steve signed up as soon as he could. And I —“ Bucky faltered, leaning back when he came at a loss for words. His eyes shifted to his lap. “He might’ve gotten better, but Steve was still my responsibility. I promised his mom.”

“And that’s why you joined.”

Bucky looked up, surprised. She said it so matter of factly. If anyone back at the village realized that Bucky left for Steve and not for some noble cause, they would have been disgusted with him. Bucky would have been deemed a traitor to the people instead of a hero. “That doesn’t make you upset?”

“Should it?” She leaned forward, arm still propped on the table. “Everyone has reasons for their actions, Bucky. Everyone. And more often than not, they aren’t as noble as people want to believe. The world is a cruel and selfish place, but that doesn’t mean your actions were. Running away so that you could live? Leaving your men behind and saving your own hide? That would have been selfish. That might have made me upset. But choosing to fight to protect your friend? That just makes you a good friend.”

Bucky watched her for a moment, anxiety getting the better of him. He bit his lip and ducked his head, a wave of warmth flooding through him. All his time fighting Hydra, his years as a prisoner of war, coming back to that ridiculously normal village — he had grown so numb. Bucky had gone out of his way to ignore his emotions because he didn’t feel they were validated.

Until this moment.

“Thank you,” he whispered, his words almost missed by Y/N as she watched him curiously. 

A part of her wanted to know if he remembered. She wanted to see how much of Loki’s spell affected the memories of her people. Did Bucky remember who she was? Did he remember who he fought for? Did he remember that the kingdom that fought tooth and nail to protect the people from Hydra was none other than Stark? Did he remember that he and Steve used to fight for royal siblings named Anthony and Y/N Stark? Or did he think that they simply vanished into thin air? What was the full influence of Loki’s —

“Y/N?” She blinked, realizing that she had definitely gotten lost in her own whirlwind of confusing thoughts. “Sorry, that was probably more information than you wanted, right?”

“No, I don’t mind. I appreciate you sharing with me.” Y/N smiled. “Actually,” Y/N rose to her feet and offered him a paw. “Come with me. I want to show you something.” 

Eyeing her suspiciously, Bucky couldn’t help his curiosity. He’d explored a lot of the castle already. What more could there be for him to see? Gaze shifting from her to her hand and back again, Bucky sighed and took her hand. Whatever it was, it couldn’t hurt, right?

Bucky craned his head up, looking at the tall mahogany doors that traveled from floor to ceiling. What was with this castle and giant doors? “Y/N, why are we here?”

“It’s a surprise. Will you just close your eyes?” She noticed the bewildered look he gave her. The scrunch of his nose, the furrow of his brow — it was kind of adorable. He looked like a little kid with a puzzle. “I haven’t growled, snarled, nipped, or threatened to use my claws in at least two hours. I think that means I’ve earned a bit of trust.”

“Two hours means I’m supposed to trust you?”

She groaned, rolling her eyes. “I promise that this is a good surprise. Please?”

Bucky hesitated for a moment, shaking his head before finally closing his eyes. Y/N was doing her best to hide her excitement. Sam had mentioned Bucky’s love for books and learning new things and had mentioned that he had yet to see this room. Of all of them, she would have expected this to be the first at the top of the list. 

But at least she got to see his face when he saw it for the first time.

Opening the doors, Y/N stepped ahead of him. The sound of her retreating form made him pause.“Y/N?” he asked, looking where he hoped she was standing. There wasn’t a response at first, but he started seeing flashes of light cross over his closed eyes. “Where’d you go?” The sound of curtains opening kept him spinning around, trying to find where she was. It wasn’t until he sensed her standing directly in front of him that he finally relaxed. Y/N smiled down at him, taking in his features now that he wasn’t looking at her. He seemed calm and relaxed, actually at ease.  Her hand curved in the crook of his elbow, pulling him closer to the center of the room. Bucky didn’t flinch away and the sight made her relax. He really wasn’t scared of her. “Y/N, what are you trying to show me?”

“Just wait,” she murmured, the sound of her voice so low causing his heart to beat a little faster. He tried to ignore the feeling, unsure of what the actual cause was. Perhaps it was because he wasn’t used to the tone? Taking a couple steps back, Y/N forced herself to stop fidgeting. “You can open your eyes now.”

Bucky immediately did, wincing from the onslaught of bright light. He hadn’t expected it. No other room in the whole castle was this bright. Scrunching his brow, eyes squinting, he gave his vision the opportunity to adjust before finally taking a look at everything around him. It was…

Beautiful.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes landing on the two floors. His gaze traveled over bookcase after bookcase, shelf after shelf, cover after beautiful cover. The smell of books overwhelmed his nostrils, reminding him of home. The light came in from the windows, so bright and warm. Spinning around, his eyes flickered over pieces of art, sculptures, the globe on the far left side of the room. He noted the maps next to it and how there was a ladder instead of a staircase that one could take to the second floor. He noticed the little sculptures wedged between books, keeping them in place. The leather bound books weren’t just black — they were blue, green, red, purple. Some were grey, others white. No spine looked exactly like the other. “This is your library?”

Y/N shrugged. “Not anymore.”

Bucky frowned, looking at her over his shoulder. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Sam told me that, since coming back from war, you have this thirst for learning knew things. He told me it was important to you, for you to understand things and what made them tick.” Y/N shrugged. “I want you to have it.”

A laugh filled with disbelief escaped his chest. He looked back at the room, still amazed. It was too extravagant, too much. “You can’t be serious.”

“Absolutely. It’s yours if you want it.”

Bucky’s gaze shifted again, back to Y/N. His smile was beaming, eyes glowing. The feeling in his chest and stomach, he didn’t understand it. It was light and fluttery and unlike anything he had ever felt before. She introduced him to a new emotion, showed him a new side of herself. “Thank you, Y/N. Honestly, I — I can’t thank you enough.”

Meanwhile…

Steve sat at the farthest table in the bar, beer in hand and eyes staring intently into the bottom of the mug. He shouldn’t be here. He shouldn’t be wallowing. He should’ve fought for Bucky. 

The thoughts wouldn’t leave him alone. The guilt wouldn’t leave him alone. It was eating him alive. Was Bucky okay? Did that animal leave him locked up? It had been months now. Months since he’d last seen Bucky and all he wanted was to get his friend back. 

Boisterous laughter rang through his ears and blue eyes looked up, piercing through the crowd and immediately landing on the owner of the voice. 

Brock Rumlow.

He and his men had frequented their visits. They refused to simply come and go like they once had. It seemed Steve’s brief moment of disappearance encouraged it and Bucky’s current vanishing solidified the belief that they could make this place their favorite to disrupt.

Steve didn’t feel angry often. He did his best to keep his mind clear, to look for the right thing and the good moments. But the more Rumlow was around? The more Bucky was gone? Anger rotted his heart.

“Shut up,” Steve said, not thinking that he would be heard.

However, all eyes were on him in a moment. Rumlow was leaning back, woman in his lap and another’s arms looped around his. Nails dragged lazily down his chest and, instead of focusing on the woman who wanted his attention, Rumlow was much more interested in the man who decided to mouth off. 

“Did you just tell me to shut up?”

Everyone remained silent as Rumlow shoved the girl off. She stumbled to the side, caught by one of his horny soldiers. Standing up, Rumlow took slow strides to Steve’s table. He stared down at Steve who watched him so intently. Chuckling, Rumlow asked, “Where’s your guard dog? Barnes, right?”

Steve clenched his jaw, rising up. He stood about an inch taller than Rumlow and used it to his advantage, even though the leader of Hydra’s army refused to back down. “You don’t get to talk about him,” he said through gritted teeth. “I told you. You and your friends, just…be quiet. Go. You don’t have to stay here.”

Rumlow snorted. “No, we don’t. That’s the best part.” Smirking, he gestured to his men. Each reached for their sword. “We want to. And without Barnes, you’re only one guy - one drunk fool. So why don’t you go home? Hm?”

Steve’s hand instinctively flexed. He wanted to hit him. He wanted to pummel Rumlow into the ground and leave him in a bloody pulp. But there were fifteen other men, not counting the ones outside. They all had their swords and Steve was unarmed. And, though he didn’t want to admit it, Rumlow was right that Steve wasn’t of sound mind.

This was a fight for another day.

Shoving past each Hydra soldier, he forced himself to leave and never look back. The creak of the bar’s door and stench of alcohol were left in his wake. Rumlow smirked, watching him leave before glancing at one of his soldiers. “You, find out what happened to that Barnes guy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I want to know exactly where he ended up.”

———-

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[afteriwake]

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Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 5 | BUY ME A COFFEE?

It wasn’t until they had arrived at the airport that he realized just how wonderful an actress Molly really was. She was not quite as she had been the last two nights, when there had been plenty of “practice” for them to act as a couple, practice he had quite enjoyed, but she stayed close, always keeping a hand of hers in his or on his arm, smiling brightly at the assorted members of the families who would be traveling with them and, at least for a first impression, pulling off the charade quite nicely. Not that he found it hard to play along; with Molly being the lead in most of the interactions, he simply followed and reacted accordingly.

He was only thankful this group of guests were the ones from London and his parents were not among them. That was the introduction he was dreading the most, as while he was sure his parents would adore Molly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the “impending” engagement questions just yet. His mother was as tenacious as he was when she wanted something, and what she wanted was the sons she was still talking to to give her grandchildren. She’d succeeded with Mycroft, so now all her attention would be on him.

They settled into their seats on the plane and Molly leaned over with her mouth near his ear. “That seemed to go well,” she said quietly.

“They were an easier audience to trick than my parents will be,” he murmured back.

“Oh, I think your mum will love me,” she said with a smile before kissing his cheek and then reaching for the book she’d taken out of her handbag to read. Molly didn’t quite realize that was among the problems with this charade: his mother would absolutely adore her and when it eventually came time to explain how the relationship had ended, he would be a disappointment in her eyes. Maybe not as much as his eldest brother was, but enough that it would make things decidedly more frosty between them.

Of course, as long as he wasn’t as despised as Sherrinford, he supposed he could tolerate a bit of a cold shoulder from his parents.

He settled further into his seat. It wasn’t often he thought of his eldest brother. There was usually no real reason to. The age difference between the two of them was considerable enough that Sherrinford had been nearly a teenager when he was born, and Mycroft not that far behind. He was considered a blessing by his parents, and a burden to Mycroft, but Sherrinford had never really liked him much, as far as he could tell. Sherrinford was the one in the family who had gotten the innate ability to make people at ease almost immediately, a skill his father had not managed to pass down to either he or Mycroft. It seemed his mother’s brilliance had skipped Sherrinford as a result, and he despised his younger siblings for being the one their mother was proudest of.

To this day he still wasn’t entirely sure of what had caused the rift between his parents and his eldest brother, but he knew it had to do with a large sum of money disappearing from accounts and Sherrinford scampering off in the middle of the night. It was never discussed even when he asked, time and again, and eventually, he simply stopped asking. It was the one mystery he’d decided not to solve in his entire life because, really, he was glad Sherrinford was gone. He had never liked the way Sherrinford treated him, and while his life was not necessarily better once he was gone, it was easier, at least.

He decided he’d done enough ruminating on the past once the plane began its ascent into the air. It had been some time since he was able to fully relax on a trip away from England, probably since early on in his association with John. The trip to Karachi had been fraught with danger and getting Irene to relative safety had been his tantamount priority, and obviously working on destroying the web Moriarty had woven had not been easy of safe. And then the last time he had been on a plane he had purposefully overdosed so that he could concentrate on the case in his head. Whether he had made it to Russia alive had been of little consequence, as he had more drugs on hand in case he’d had to finish the trip, but he was grateful for the second chance.

Not that he would ever admit that, of course.

He’d been surly when it was over, and only dropped the attitude when it had been decided Molly would be there during his withdrawal. He hadn’t seen her since before he had shot Magnussen, and the fact she wasn’t more angry at him for overdosing had been surprising, considering the scene in the lab. But she was there when no one else was, and he’d decided if she would be with him through the worst of it, he would make things better between them. And it was a promise he had done a good enough job keeping since they were in the position they were in now. He doubted even for a trip to Jamaica for free that she would agree to be his girlfriend and potential fiancee, unless possibly it had been for a case.

Still, he should have recognized long before the first night in Baker Street for this charade that his feeling had changed. When they had been curled up on the sofa and she had leaned in for their first kiss, he had been fairly sure he had made a mistake. And he knew he had for certain when she kissed him because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to simply being friends, not after this week. Either he would try his best to convince her to make the fiction a reality, or he would lose the most important person in his life.

Of course, her mixed signals, vacillating between the breakup quip and then the simple kiss on the cheek now did nothing to help him figure out which direction she might go in. Logic was of no help, and they still had the entire week to go. He tried slipping into his mind palace to focus on things related to cases he had abandoned for the week, but he kept turning to look at Molly, completely immersed in her book. He knew that that image was going to be a sight frequently seen in his mind palace for a long time to come.

He hadn’t managed to settle anything in his head by the time they had arrived in Jamaica, and he was a bit cranky when they were deboarded and put into cars to get to the resort. Molly had barely taken her eyes off the book she was reading, and continued to read in the car they shared with his Uncle Harrington.

Of all the members of his family that he had contact with, this particular uncle was the only one he rather liked. His Uncle Rudy had favoured Mycroft, and no one at all had really liked Sherrinford, as far as he could tell, but it had been his Uncle Harrington who had fostered his love of deductive reasoning, sending hard to find books on any subject Sherlock wished from either his own private collection or those of friends and colleagues. There were books that were worth thousands of pounds at Baker Street because Harrington had never asked for them to be returned, always saying you would never know when you needed a good book, and as a literature professor at Oxford, he supposed Harrington knew that lesson well.

“You picked a woman who likes to read,” Harrington said, his voice laced with approval.

“I did,” Sherlock said, relaxing. This would be easy to talk about. He had found Molly’s sterling qualities were something he could expound on for quite a while if needed. He was sure John and Mary were tired of his talking about her, at least. “She has a personal library in her home. Not a large one, but the contents are varied.”

“Medical texts, classical literature, modern pulpy romances, and a few other goodies,” Molly said as she turned in the seat in front of them to join the conversation. She gave Harrington a smile. “Sherlock mentioned you gave him quite a few of the books he has now?”

Harrington nodded. “Mycroft and Sherrinford were interested in learning certain things. William wanted to learn everything. You don’t squander a mind like that by not feeding it with sufficient knowledge.”

Sherlock glowered slightly at the use of his real name but Molly simply nodded. “Oh yes. A beautiful brain like his would go to waste if it was starved in such an unnecessary way.”

Harrington’s smile back at her got brighter. “It’s good to see we see eye to eye,” he replied.

“We certainly do.”

Sherlock watched the two of them launch into a conversation about him and he listened with only mild embarrassment. It was one thing to think highly of himself, but it was another to hear two people discuss him in such high regard. He wasn’t used to that; while he knew Mary adored him, she didn’t have these kinds of discussions with her husband in front of him. Lestrade usually didn’t need to defend him anymore so he didn’t, and while he was used to Molly saying a few kind words, this was different. Perhaps he had made up for the trouble he had caused her after all.

By the time they arrived at the resort Harrington and Molly were quite deep in a conversation about the intricacies of Austen’s works, and it was because he had tuned out their conversation he saw his brother exit out of his car with a smile that quickly dropped to a scowl. It only took seconds for his attention to shift in the same direction, and he knew his own expression was similar.

“Brother dear,” Sherrinford Holmes said from where he had been smoking a cigarette. Then he spotted Sherlock as well. “And you too.”

“Sherrinford,” Mycroft said, his tone steely. “Why are you here?”

“Mummy invited me, as an attempt to mend some broken fences,” he said. “She’s getting settled but you know me.” He held up the cigarette. “Bad habit.”

“Bloody hell,” Sherlock heard his uncle say quietly as Sherlock reached over for Molly’s hand.

“Who is that?” Molly asked.

“My eldest brother,” he said, watching as Sherrinford’s gaze swept back to him and then to Molly. His eyes widened and then got brighter, and Sherlock decided then and there he would show Molly was not to be looked at in that way by anyone other than him. He turned to face her and leaned in, kissing her soundly, feeling her knees buckle slightly as he set his hands on her waist to keep her up. When she pulled away to catch her breath she looked up at him, speechless. “Why don’t you and Andrea go find out where we’re staying in the resort?”

Molly caught on quickly, giving him a dazzling smile as she went in for her own kiss, giving him one that was nearly as breathtaking as it was unexpected. “I’ll make sure the bed is adequate,” she said with a wink in Sherrinford’s direction before she and Andrea headed inside.

“So the tabloids weren’t lying?” Sherrinford asked with a smirk. “Wonder how you kept her under wraps. She’s got quite a nice...” His smirk widened.

“Go back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in,” Mycroft said, his tone more flat and hostile than before.

“And miss out on the wedding of my brother? Never,” he said. “Get used to it, Mycroft. I’m here and I think I’d like to have a bit of fun.” He walked away from his brothers then, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling.

Mycroft moved closer to Sherlock as their uncle made his way in the same direction the women had. “He’s trouble,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, he always was,” Mycroft said. “I think we’ll need to put aside our pettiness and make sure he doesn’t do anything that will ruin this for any of us.” Mycroft held out his hand to Sherlock. “Agreed?”

Sherlock nodded, shaking his brother’s hand. “Agreed.” Just what neither of them needed, he thought to himself. Complications...

[mousedetective]

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures (5/?)

And here is the twist of the uninvited guest...

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

Read Chapter 1 | Read Chapter 5 | Buy Me A Coffee? | Send Me A Prompt

It wasn’t until they had arrived at the airport that he realized just how wonderful an actress Molly really was. She was not quite as she had been the last two nights, when there had been plenty of “practice” for them to act as a couple, practice he had quite enjoyed, but she stayed close, always keeping a hand of hers in his or on his arm, smiling brightly at the assorted members of the families who would be traveling with them and, at least for a first impression, pulling off the charade quite nicely. Not that he found it hard to play along; with Molly being the lead in most of the interactions, he simply followed and reacted accordingly.

He was only thankful this group of guests were the ones from London and his parents were not among them. That was the introduction he was dreading the most, as while he was sure his parents would adore Molly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the “impending” engagement questions just yet. His mother was as tenacious as he was when she wanted something, and what she wanted was the sons she was still talking to to give her grandchildren. She’d succeeded with Mycroft, so now all her attention would be on him.

They settled into their seats on the plane and Molly leaned over with her mouth near his ear. “That seemed to go well,” she said quietly.

“They were an easier audience to trick than my parents will be,” he murmured back.

“Oh, I think your mum will love me,” she said with a smile before kissing his cheek and then reaching for the book she’d taken out of her handbag to read. Molly didn’t quite realize that was among the problems with this charade: his mother would absolutely adore her and when it eventually came time to explain how the relationship had ended, he would be a disappointment in her eyes. Maybe not as much as his eldest brother was, but enough that it would make things decidedly more frosty between them.

Of course, as long as he wasn’t as despised as Sherrinford, he supposed he could tolerate a bit of a cold shoulder from his parents.

He settled further into his seat. It wasn’t often he thought of his eldest brother. There was usually no real reason to. The age difference between the two of them was considerable enough that Sherrinford had been nearly a teenager when he was born, and Mycroft not that far behind. He was considered a blessing by his parents, and a burden to Mycroft, but Sherrinford had never really liked him much, as far as he could tell. Sherrinford was the one in the family who had gotten the innate ability to make people at ease almost immediately, a skill his father had not managed to pass down to either he or Mycroft. It seemed his mother’s brilliance had skipped Sherrinford as a result, and he despised his younger siblings for being the one their mother was proudest of.

To this day he still wasn’t entirely sure of what had caused the rift between his parents and his eldest brother, but he knew it had to do with a large sum of money disappearing from accounts and Sherrinford scampering off in the middle of the night. It was never discussed even when he asked, time and again, and eventually, he simply stopped asking. It was the one mystery he’d decided not to solve in his entire life because, really, he was glad Sherrinford was gone. He had never liked the way Sherrinford treated him, and while his life was not necessarily better once he was gone, it was easier, at least.

He decided he’d done enough ruminating on the past once the plane began its ascent into the air. It had been some time since he was able to fully relax on a trip away from England, probably since early on in his association with John. The trip to Karachi had been fraught with danger and getting Irene to relative safety had been his tantamount priority, and obviously working on destroying the web Moriarty had woven had not been easy of safe. And then the last time he had been on a plane he had purposefully overdosed so that he could concentrate on the case in his head. Whether he had made it to Russia alive had been of little consequence, as he had more drugs on hand in case he’d had to finish the trip, but he was grateful for the second chance.

Not that he would ever admit that, of course.

He’d been surly when it was over, and only dropped the attitude when it had been decided Molly would be there during his withdrawal. He hadn’t seen her since before he had shot Magnussen, and the fact she wasn’t more angry at him for overdosing had been surprising, considering the scene in the lab. But she was there when no one else was, and he’d decided if she would be with him through the worst of it, he would make things better between them. And it was a promise he had done a good enough job keeping since they were in the position they were in now. He doubted even for a trip to Jamaica for free that she would agree to be his girlfriend and potential fiancee, unless possibly it had been for a case.

Still, he should have recognized long before the first night in Baker Street for this charade that his feeling had changed. When they had been curled up on the sofa and she had leaned in for their first kiss, he had been fairly sure he had made a mistake. And he knew he had for certain when she kissed him because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to simply being friends, not after this week. Either he would try his best to convince her to make the fiction a reality, or he would lose the most important person in his life.

Of course, her mixed signals, vacillating between the breakup quip and then the simple kiss on the cheek now did nothing to help him figure out which direction she might go in. Logic was of no help, and they still had the entire week to go. He tried slipping into his mind palace to focus on things related to cases he had abandoned for the week, but he kept turning to look at Molly, completely immersed in her book. He knew that that image was going to be a sight frequently seen in his mind palace for a long time to come.

He hadn’t managed to settle anything in his head by the time they had arrived in Jamaica, and he was a bit cranky when they were deboarded and put into cars to get to the resort. Molly had barely taken her eyes off the book she was reading, and continued to read in the car they shared with his Uncle Harrington.

Of all the members of his family that he had contact with, this particular uncle was the only one he rather liked. His Uncle Rudy had favoured Mycroft, and no one at all had really liked Sherrinford, as far as he could tell, but it had been his Uncle Harrington who had fostered his love of deductive reasoning, sending hard to find books on any subject Sherlock wished from either his own private collection or those of friends and colleagues. There were books that were worth thousands of pounds at Baker Street because Harrington had never asked for them to be returned, always saying you would never know when you needed a good book, and as a literature professor at Oxford, he supposed Harrington knew that lesson well.

“You picked a woman who likes to read,” Harrington said, his voice laced with approval.

“I did,” Sherlock said, relaxing. This would be easy to talk about. He had found Molly’s sterling qualities were something he could expound on for quite a while if needed. He was sure John and Mary were tired of his talking about her, at least. “She has a personal library in her home. Not a large one, but the contents are varied.”

“Medical texts, classical literature, modern pulpy romances, and a few other goodies,” Molly said as she turned in the seat in front of them to join the conversation. She gave Harrington a smile. “Sherlock mentioned you gave him quite a few of the books he has now?”

Harrington nodded. “Mycroft and Sherrinford were interested in learning certain things. William wanted to learn everything. You don’t squander a mind like that by not feeding it with sufficient knowledge.”

Sherlock glowered slightly at the use of his real name but Molly simply nodded. “Oh yes. A beautiful brain like his would go to waste if it was starved in such an unnecessary way.”

Harrington’s smile back at her got brighter. “It’s good to see we see eye to eye,” he replied.

“We certainly do.”

Sherlock watched the two of them launch into a conversation about him and he listened with only mild embarrassment. It was one thing to think highly of himself, but it was another to hear two people discuss him in such high regard. He wasn’t used to that; while he knew Mary adored him, she didn’t have these kinds of discussions with her husband in front of him. Lestrade usually didn’t need to defend him anymore so he didn’t, and while he was used to Molly saying a few kind words, this was different. Perhaps he had made up for the trouble he had caused her after all.

By the time they arrived at the resort Harrington and Molly were quite deep in a conversation about the intricacies of Austen’s works, and it was because he had tuned out their conversation he saw his brother exit out of his car with a smile that quickly dropped to a scowl. It only took seconds for his attention to shift in the same direction, and he knew his own expression was similar.

“Brother dear,” Sherrinford Holmes said from where he had been smoking a cigarette. Then he spotted Sherlock as well. “And you too.”

“Sherrinford,” Mycroft said, his tone steely. “Why are you here?”

“Mummy invited me, as an attempt to mend some broken fences,” he said. “She’s getting settled but you know me.” He held up the cigarette. “Bad habit.”

“Bloody hell,” Sherlock heard his uncle say quietly as Sherlock reached over for Molly’s hand.

“Who is that?” Molly asked.

“My eldest brother,” he said, watching as Sherrinford’s gaze swept back to him and then to Molly. His eyes widened and then got brighter, and Sherlock decided then and there he would show Molly was not to be looked at in that way by anyone other than him. He turned to face her and leaned in, kissing her soundly, feeling her knees buckle slightly as he set his hands on her waist to keep her up. When she pulled away to catch her breath she looked up at him, speechless. “Why don’t you and Andrea go find out where we’re staying in the resort?”

Molly caught on quickly, giving him a dazzling smile as she went in for her own kiss, giving him one that was nearly as breathtaking as it was unexpected. “I’ll make sure the bed is adequate,” she said with a wink in Sherrinford’s direction before she and Andrea headed inside.

“So the tabloids weren’t lying?” Sherrinford asked with a smirk. “Wonder how you kept her under wraps. She’s got quite a nice...” His smirk widened.

“Go back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in,” Mycroft said, his tone more flat and hostile than before.

“And miss out on the wedding of my brother? Never,” he said. “Get used to it, Mycroft. I’m here and I think I’d like to have a bit of fun.” He walked away from his brothers then, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling.

Mycroft moved closer to Sherlock as their uncle made his way in the same direction the women had. “He’s trouble,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, he always was,” Mycroft said. “I think we’ll need to put aside our pettiness and make sure he doesn’t do anything that will ruin this for any of us.” Mycroft held out his hand to Sherlock. “Agreed?”

Sherlock nodded, shaking his brother’s hand. “Agreed.” Just what neither of them needed, he thought to himself. Complications...

[allthislove]

I don’t understand how people can take their siblings for granted.

I have 4 siblings. Two of them are half-siblings, from my mom’s first marriage, but they’ve always just been my brother and sister. I love them all, but I also feel blessed that I still have them all, and that our relationships with each other are all good.

I understand that isn’t the case, for some siblings. Siblings fight for different reasons, and sibling relationships can even be abusive. But, a wonderful person I know lost her sister this year, not too long ago, and it really got me thinking about how important these relationships can be. God, these people who have been there with you for most of your life, or most of their life, who you probably grew up with, who will probably stay in your life for the rest of your life... I mean.... it’s a relationship unlike any other. And, sure, not everyone is friends with their siblings. I understand that. What I can’t understand is purposefully being antagonistic to your sibling. Especially your baby sibling.

Which is why I’m writing this blog. One of my older brother’s friends... he’s absolutely shut out his baby sister. And I mean BABY sister. Like, this man is 31. His little sister just turned 17, and he hasn’t really been in her life since she was 15. And it’s really taken a toll on her. 

Let me tell you about this grown ass, piece of shit of a man. Although, caveat, it might not entirely be his fault? His wife seems to be a big factor, and honestly, there are a lot of abuse red flags coming from her, so....

Anyway, their family has been friends with my family for as long as I can remember. His mom is one of my mom’s best friends, and I still see his mom and sister often. My mom is his baby sister’s godmother, so the girl is my godsister. She’s pretty, sweet, adorable, smart, athletic... and get this: she’s even leaning towards going to the SAME UNIVERSITY that her piece of shit older brother graduated from. (I’m probably going to call him a piece of shit a lot, forgive me. I mean, he was a big part of my life, and I knew him well, growing up, and I am really angry with him for this.)

So, for the purposes of this story, I’m going to give all parties fake names. 

His mom: Maria, Him: Barry, Baby sister: Kayla, Wife: Vanessa, his children: Barry Jr. and Bonnie. 

Barry met Vanessa in college. She was his first serious girlfriend, and their relationship was sort of volatile. I mean, kicking him out of apartments, getting restraining orders against him, that type of thing. I don’t know Vanessa, and I had never been involved in their life, so I can’t say if Barry truly did anything to deserve being kicked out and having restraining orders against him. At the time, I assumed he did. I usually side with the women. So while my Mom and Maria were discussing the situation (sometimes I’d be around), I was usually like “But, what did Barry do?” 

So, a few years into this match made in hell, Vanessa ends up pregnant. Barry’s all excited, and so is Maria. I’m like “... isn’t this the same bitch that he’s always getting into it with?” But it’s not my business, so I just give a congratulations, and let them be happy. Barry Jr. is born, and Barry and Vanessa live together, and all of this bs. Barry’s got a degree, but he’s sort of... one of those guys that’s never really got it together? So, he’s starting all these strange businesses and they keep failing, but every time he does, Maria and her husband (not Barry’s father; Barry’s father passed away when he was a baby) loan Barry money for the business. Anyway, Barry starts this black haircare business, and of course, it’s not doing great, but Maria LOVES her son. He’s the apple of her eye, can do no wrong. And Barry IS a really nice, earnest guy, so there’s no reason for her not to except that he’s bad at business. 

Then, of course, Barry and Vanessa get into it, again. Vanessa kicks him out of their apartment, and Maria takes Barry in. Vanessa gets all indignant, and is like “YOU CAN’T SEE BARRY JR!” and Barry, of course, is emotional about that, so they try to fight it. Maria is supporting him 100%, and even helps him take Vanessa to court. It’s a stupid, pointless court battle, and eventually doesn’t even matter, because Vanessa takes Barry back. They move in together again. Meanwhile, Barry’s failed another business and Maria and her husband lost money.

Then, Barry and Vanessa decide to get married. Everyone is like “...” because Vanessa is always like kicking him out and getting restraining orders and trying to keep him from seeing his son, and it’s literally a shit relationship, but they’re getting married. My brother is one of Barry’s best friends, and they have a group of friends from high school, that they’re like all besties and have been besties ever since. There’s four of em. My brother, Barry, Mike (fake name), and Gabe (fake name). Mike and Gabe are both already married (to lovely women who compliment them), and they decide to talk to Barry. They urge him not to marry Vanessa, because the relationship is too volatile, and it won’t be good for him or Vanessa, and certainly not for Barry Jr. But Barry, naturally, gets angry and is like “Anyone who doesn’t come to my wedding is out of my life.”

So, the wedding rolls around, and Mike and Gabe both refuse to go, but my brother goes because he’s like “I’m the only one of Barry’s friends that will be there to support him” or whatever. My brother is super nice and just wanted to be on his friend’s team. And Maria and Kayla both go, too, because, well, Barry is Maria’s only son, and Kayla’s only brother. And they get married, and it’s okay, for a while. And Barry made good on his promise to cut Mike and Gabe from his life, which Mike and Gabe both shrugged off. Because, whatever. (BTW, Mike’s kids were playmates to Barry Jr., so Barry also took them away from his child for no reason.)

But uh oh... Vanessa’s not done. She had a problem with Maria because Maria, understandably, is cautious about her, after the years of drama she’s been through with Barry. So, Maria tries to keep up a relationship, babysit her grandson Barry Jr, all of that, but Vanessa feels insulted by the fact that Maria doesn’t like her. I’m sure they’d exchanged words, and things hadn’t been pretty, because the relationship has been volatile for a long time. Meanwhile, some complicated stuff about Barry borrowing money from Maria’s brother (his uncle) arises, and that gets ugly. So, apparently, Vanessa starts convincing Barry that his mother is not in his corner, and should be out of their life. Meanwhile, if you knew Maria and Barry and closely as my family did, you’d be like WTF??? Because Barry was Maria’s WHOLE WORLD. And he was such a  Mama’s Boy, when he was a kid and teenager. To even suggest that Maria was not in his corner is crazy.

I mean, I spent the night at their house. I was always over there, and Barry was always over our house, because our families are super close and our moms are STILL BEST FRIENDS. And my older brother is still one of Barry’s closer friends (although they don’t talk much, these days, either.... which is again why I said Vanessa gives me abuser red flags. Isolating people from their friends and family? A sign of abuse.)

So, Vanessa is pregnant, again, and she’s also convinced Barry that his mother is against him and shouldn’t be in their lives. And, get this, Barry AGREES, and they stop talking to Maria.

And Vanessa gives birth to their baby girl, Bonnie, and Maria doesn’t even get to see her. Barry doesn’t even bother to tell her that Bonnie was born; she had to hear from other people.

So, I bet you’re wondering how Kayla got in the middle of this, right?

Well, young Kayla, at the time 15 years old, calls her brother because their mother is heartbroken and in tears. And she basically says to him “how dare you treat our mother like this!” and accuses him of abandoning their family. Mind you, Barry had been the sun and moon to both of them. He treated Kayla like she was golden, when she was a baby and a little girl. 

And Barry says “This is adult business, you wouldn’t understand.” So, Kayla tells him off, because he has taken Barry Jr and Bonnie away from not only her mother, but Kayla herself, and for no reason other than that Vanessa doesn’t like Maria.

And Barry, in his adult, 29-year-old wisdom, being mature and manly and all of that, tells his baby sister, 15, over the phone “You’re dead to me. Lose my number.”

Those exact words.

You’re dead to me. Lose my number. Kayla was broken, and has been crushed ever since.

She had her sweet 16, and was hoping her brother would come. He never showed up. A few days later, she got a generic birthday card in the mail, callously signed “From The Johnsons” (meaning Barry, Vanessa, and the two kids.) She actually got physically sick, and she was so angry she put the card back in the mailbox and had it sent back to them. 

This year, last month, she turned 17. She got no card from them, this time. She got nothing.

When you mention Barry to her, she pretends she doesn’t know who you’re talking about. She frequently comments on how she has no brother.

And yet, this week, she went on a college tour of the same university he graduated from. 

Kayla loves her ADULT brother, and he abandoned her for his stupid fuck of an abusive, manipulative wife.

By the way, Bonnie is 2, and Maria and Kayla have never met her.

I met her, once, when I was being a Disney princess as a birthday party that she was invited to. I had no idea she was their child until Barry came up to me and said hi. I said to him “Tell your mom I said ‘hi’!” and he lied to my face, with a big smile and said “Oh, I will!” 

I’m angry with him, but I also recognize that this is Vanessa and that she’s probably emotionally abusive. I don’t think she hits him, or that he hits her (although, IDK what was up with all those retraining orders and whatnot. Could’ve just been a manipulation tactic, considering they stopped after she got the ring.) I do think she’s emotionally abusive and manipulative. I don’t care if my spouse didn’t get along with my parents; NOBODY would stop me from seeing my family, and certainly would not keep me from letting MY KIDS see THEIR GRANDPARENTS, AUNTS, AND UNCLES. 

The only thing that would keep my kids from seeing their grandparents is if I knew those grandparents were abusing them. And I know for a fact that Maria isn’t abusive, because she took care of me as a small child. I ate, slept, bathed at her house. She is the sweetest woman, barely even yells. She doesn’t hit her kids. She cooks healthy meals and provides treats. She’s jovial and fun and a joy to be around.

I would say you don’t know what goes on behind closed doors, except I’d been behind their closed doors so much, I practically lived there. 

So, for Barry to pull away from Maria, based mostly on the fact that Maria and Vanessa don’t get along, is nuts, to me. I wish I WOULD abandon my mother for my wife. That sounds crazytown, to me. But even if I did...

I would never, in a million years, tell my 15-year-old baby sister “you’re dead to me. Lose my number.”

It doesn’t even make sense to say that to someone. Someone who looked up to you, and followed you around, and loved you unconditionally. Kayla worshipped Barry. He was everything, to her, when she was small. 

I don’t actually have a moral, or a conclusion... I’m just really angry that he’s done this to her. To his baby sister. It’s bad enough to do it to your mom, but your BABY SISTER?

I haven’t seen Barry since I learned all of this was happening (when I saw him at that birthday party, Maria hadn’t told me any of this was going down. Bonnie was maybe a year old, or just about to be a year old. Maria never disparages Barry around me, and still talks about him fondly. The poor woman loves that doofus, asshole piece of shit.) If I see him again before he reconciles with his family, I’m pretty sure I’ma cuss his ass out.

I’ve just been wanting to vent about it for the past year or so. 

I actually learned all of this was happening BECAUSE I saw Barry, Vanessa, and Bonnie at that birthday party. It was last summer, I think. I told my mom that I saw Bonnie at the party and she’s adorable, and she told me I had seen her before Maria had. Then, when I talked to Maria, she told me that Barry wasn’t letting her see the kids. I didn’t know what happened between Barry and Kayla until my mom told me after Maria had vented to her about it. Maria doesn’t know what to do, but she wants her son back, most of all.

Kayla, I think, is the most hurt by it. Her, and Barry Jr., who is maybe 6 or 7 and misses his granny and auntie, because he remembers being with them. Barry even lied to him that Maria moved away and that’s why he doesn’t see her, anymore. It’s all very sick, and Barry needs help, and Vanessa is a demon.

IDK. What do y’all think? 

[afteriwake]

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures (5/?)

And here’s the rub in the celebration: the appearance of their eldest brother Sherrinford!

Desperate Times Call For Desperate Measures - It all begins with an invitation to Mycroft’s wedding to his PA and seven days at a resort in Jamaica, with the assumption that Molly pretends to be his girlfriend that his mother might be under the impression that he’s going to propose to sooner rather than later. It ends up being so much more than that…

READ CHAPTER 1 | READ CHAPTER 5 | HELP ME SURVIVE? | COMMISSION ME? | BUY ME A KOFI?

It wasn’t until they had arrived at the airport that he realized just how wonderful an actress Molly really was. She was not quite as she had been the last two nights, when there had been plenty of “practice” for them to act as a couple, practice he had quite enjoyed, but she stayed close, always keeping a hand of hers in his or on his arm, smiling brightly at the assorted members of the families who would be traveling with them and, at least for a first impression, pulling off the charade quite nicely. Not that he found it hard to play along; with Molly being the lead in most of the interactions, he simply followed and reacted accordingly.

He was only thankful this group of guests were the ones from London and his parents were not among them. That was the introduction he was dreading the most, as while he was sure his parents would adore Molly, he wasn’t sure he wanted to deal with the “impending” engagement questions just yet. His mother was as tenacious as he was when she wanted something, and what she wanted was the sons she was still talking to to give her grandchildren. She’d succeeded with Mycroft, so now all her attention would be on him.

They settled into their seats on the plane and Molly leaned over with her mouth near his ear. “That seemed to go well,” she said quietly.

“They were an easier audience to trick than my parents will be,” he murmured back.

“Oh, I think your mum will love me,” she said with a smile before kissing his cheek and then reaching for the book she’d taken out of her handbag to read. Molly didn’t quite realize that was among the problems with this charade: his mother would absolutely adore her and when it eventually came time to explain how the relationship had ended, he would be a disappointment in her eyes. Maybe not as much as his eldest brother was, but enough that it would make things decidedly more frosty between them.

Of course, as long as he wasn’t as despised as Sherrinford, he supposed he could tolerate a bit of a cold shoulder from his parents.

He settled further into his seat. It wasn’t often he thought of his eldest brother. There was usually no real reason to. The age difference between the two of them was considerable enough that Sherrinford had been nearly a teenager when he was born, and Mycroft not that far behind. He was considered a blessing by his parents, and a burden to Mycroft, but Sherrinford had never really liked him much, as far as he could tell. Sherrinford was the one in the family who had gotten the innate ability to make people at ease almost immediately, a skill his father had not managed to pass down to either he or Mycroft. It seemed his mother’s brilliance had skipped Sherrinford as a result, and he despised his younger siblings for being the one their mother was proudest of.

To this day he still wasn’t entirely sure of what had caused the rift between his parents and his eldest brother, but he knew it had to do with a large sum of money disappearing from accounts and Sherrinford scampering off in the middle of the night. It was never discussed even when he asked, time and again, and eventually, he simply stopped asking. It was the one mystery he’d decided not to solve in his entire life because, really, he was glad Sherrinford was gone. He had never liked the way Sherrinford treated him, and while his life was not necessarily better once he was gone, it was easier, at least.

He decided he’d done enough ruminating on the past once the plane began its ascent into the air. It had been some time since he was able to fully relax on a trip away from England, probably since early on in his association with John. The trip to Karachi had been fraught with danger and getting Irene to relative safety had been his tantamount priority, and obviously working on destroying the web Moriarty had woven had not been easy of safe. And then the last time he had been on a plane he had purposefully overdosed so that he could concentrate on the case in his head. Whether he had made it to Russia alive had been of little consequence, as he had more drugs on hand in case he’d had to finish the trip, but he was grateful for the second chance.

Not that he would ever admit that, of course.

He’d been surly when it was over, and only dropped the attitude when it had been decided Molly would be there during his withdrawal. He hadn’t seen her since before he had shot Magnussen, and the fact she wasn’t more angry at him for overdosing had been surprising, considering the scene in the lab. But she was there when no one else was, and he’d decided if she would be with him through the worst of it, he would make things better between them. And it was a promise he had done a good enough job keeping since they were in the position they were in now. He doubted even for a trip to Jamaica for free that she would agree to be his girlfriend and potential fiancee, unless possibly it had been for a case.

Still, he should have recognized long before the first night in Baker Street for this charade that his feeling had changed. When they had been curled up on the sofa and she had leaned in for their first kiss, he had been fairly sure he had made a mistake. And he knew he had for certain when she kissed him because he knew he wasn’t going to be able to go back to simply being friends, not after this week. Either he would try his best to convince her to make the fiction a reality, or he would lose the most important person in his life.

Of course, her mixed signals, vacillating between the breakup quip and then the simple kiss on the cheek now did nothing to help him figure out which direction she might go in. Logic was of no help, and they still had the entire week to go. He tried slipping into his mind palace to focus on things related to cases he had abandoned for the week, but he kept turning to look at Molly, completely immersed in her book. He knew that that image was going to be a sight frequently seen in his mind palace for a long time to come.

He hadn’t managed to settle anything in his head by the time they had arrived in Jamaica, and he was a bit cranky when they were deboarded and put into cars to get to the resort. Molly had barely taken her eyes off the book she was reading, and continued to read in the car they shared with his Uncle Harrington.

Of all the members of his family that he had contact with, this particular uncle was the only one he rather liked. His Uncle Rudy had favoured Mycroft, and no one at all had really liked Sherrinford, as far as he could tell, but it had been his Uncle Harrington who had fostered his love of deductive reasoning, sending hard to find books on any subject Sherlock wished from either his own private collection or those of friends and colleagues. There were books that were worth thousands of pounds at Baker Street because Harrington had never asked for them to be returned, always saying you would never know when you needed a good book, and as a literature professor at Oxford, he supposed Harrington knew that lesson well.

“You picked a woman who likes to read,” Harrington said, his voice laced with approval.

“I did,” Sherlock said, relaxing. This would be easy to talk about. He had found Molly’s sterling qualities were something he could expound on for quite a while if needed. He was sure John and Mary were tired of his talking about her, at least. “She has a personal library in her home. Not a large one, but the contents are varied.”

“Medical texts, classical literature, modern pulpy romances, and a few other goodies,” Molly said as she turned in the seat in front of them to join the conversation. She gave Harrington a smile. “Sherlock mentioned you gave him quite a few of the books he has now?”

Harrington nodded. “Mycroft and Sherrinford were interested in learning certain things. William wanted to learn everything. You don’t squander a mind like that by not feeding it with sufficient knowledge.”

Sherlock glowered slightly at the use of his real name but Molly simply nodded. “Oh yes. A beautiful brain like his would go to waste if it was starved in such an unnecessary way.”

Harrington’s smile back at her got brighter. “It’s good to see we see eye to eye,” he replied.

“We certainly do.”

Sherlock watched the two of them launch into a conversation about him and he listened with only mild embarrassment. It was one thing to think highly of himself, but it was another to hear two people discuss him in such high regard. He wasn’t used to that; while he knew Mary adored him, she didn’t have these kinds of discussions with her husband in front of him. Lestrade usually didn’t need to defend him anymore so he didn’t, and while he was used to Molly saying a few kind words, this was different. Perhaps he had made up for the trouble he had caused her after all.

By the time they arrived at the resort Harrington and Molly were quite deep in a conversation about the intricacies of Austen’s works, and it was because he had tuned out their conversation he saw his brother exit out of his car with a smile that quickly dropped to a scowl. It only took seconds for his attention to shift in the same direction, and he knew his own expression was similar.

“Brother dear,” Sherrinford Holmes said from where he had been smoking a cigarette. Then he spotted Sherlock as well. “And you too.”

“Sherrinford,” Mycroft said, his tone steely. “Why are you here?”

“Mummy invited me, as an attempt to mend some broken fences,” he said. “She’s getting settled but you know me.” He held up the cigarette. “Bad habit.”

“Bloody hell,” Sherlock heard his uncle say quietly as Sherlock reached over for Molly’s hand.

“Who is that?” Molly asked.

“My eldest brother,” he said, watching as Sherrinford’s gaze swept back to him and then to Molly. His eyes widened and then got brighter, and Sherlock decided then and there he would show Molly was not to be looked at in that way by anyone other than him. He turned to face her and leaned in, kissing her soundly, feeling her knees buckle slightly as he set his hands on her waist to keep her up. When she pulled away to catch her breath she looked up at him, speechless. “Why don’t you and Andrea go find out where we’re staying in the resort?”

Molly caught on quickly, giving him a dazzling smile as she went in for her own kiss, giving him one that was nearly as breathtaking as it was unexpected. “I’ll make sure the bed is adequate,” she said with a wink in Sherrinford’s direction before she and Andrea headed inside.

“So the tabloids weren’t lying?” Sherrinford asked with a smirk. “Wonder how you kept her under wraps. She’s got quite a nice...” His smirk widened.

“Go back to whatever hole you’ve been hiding in,” Mycroft said, his tone more flat and hostile than before.

“And miss out on the wedding of my brother? Never,” he said. “Get used to it, Mycroft. I’m here and I think I’d like to have a bit of fun.” He walked away from his brothers then, putting his cigarette to his lips and inhaling.

Mycroft moved closer to Sherlock as their uncle made his way in the same direction the women had. “He’s trouble,” Sherlock said.

“Oh, he always was,” Mycroft said. “I think we’ll need to put aside our pettiness and make sure he doesn’t do anything that will ruin this for any of us.” Mycroft held out his hand to Sherlock. “Agreed?”

Sherlock nodded, shaking his brother’s hand. “Agreed.” Just what neither of them needed, he thought to himself. Complications...