Greg has officially moved to @multusmousai! Peeps who still want to write with us, you can find the mun and the muse there :>
[[me crying/laughing cause tumblr really said making a multimuse blog was a bad idea]]
Hi. Er. So I’m archiving this blog and will be moving to a new one. If anyone still wants to write with me (or hell even remembers me) and my muse, just let me know here! Or message me on my discord too so we can discuss which threads we should continue (dcntcommitsuicide#3943) ]]
He couldn’t sleep now, not with Greg uneasy. Not without Greg by his side. And nightmares were no strange thing to Sherlock, he suffered plenty of his own.
He drapes his blanket over Greg as the other leans in, and he enjoys the sense of closeness. He’s always felt secure with Greg, and he’s determined to figure out how to return the favor. “Do you want to talk about it?” he asks, leaning in like he’s going for a kiss, but instead he just nuzzles his face against Greg’s. Sort of like a cat. He’s a bit strange like that. “I need a cigarette before I go back to sleep,” he reasoned. He’d say anything to keep Greg from feeling like he was keeping Sherlock up, even if he was, Sherlock would just lie. But in a good way, just little white lies.
It always made him smile whenever Sherlock started to nuzzle him, his curls almost tickling his face as he brushed his face against his. He had realized over time that it was Sherlock’s way of showing affection. Or at least one of them. And Greg honestly found it endearing. Hearing that Sherlock wanted a cigarette however, that one he didn’t.
“Oi, we’re both quitting, remember?” He grumbled, leaning to press a kiss to the man’s cheek instead. “And really, it’s nothing. The bad dream. There was uh–” He paused, taking in a breath, hoping his stomach would stay still while recounting what happened that day. “An officer got shot during an arrest. I should have anticipated the suspect would try to escape. And that he had a gun.” He swallowed, reaching for Sherlock’s hand, squeezing, almost clinging to it. “It’s stupid, I know. But I could have prevented that if I did more.”
[[sorry i haven’t done stuff in a while >_> life’s getting in the way and i’m actually required to function as a normal, socialized being for work. but i’ll get to posting some stuff tomorrow!]]
“Oh? Is that what you’ve been up to lately?”
“That’s really adorable! You’ve got to show it to me some time.”
me: i should work on drafts
me, five minutes later: -binge watches game grumps for hours-
Jim had a look of AMUSEMENT on his face. Which was always DANGEROUS because it either meant he was going to LAUGH at a joke or become incredibly VOLATILE.
“Mighty BOLD of you to assume you’re in a position to give out orders.” He chirped before shaking his head, “No, no, no. You’re TRESPASSING on my property, you don’t have a warrant, we checked, so DON’T INSULT ME!” The sudden RAISING of his voice echoed in the hollow air. Jim allowed his threat to linger in the air before the aggression on his face MELTED away and twisted into something that resembled apology.
“I’m sorry. That was mean.”
A mere moment was all it took. The sudden raising of the man’s voice had Greg almost backing up in surprise. Unpredictable. This madman was unpredictable and just one wrong move, one wrong word and Greg could be dead. The sudden apologetic look would not fool him any longer. He could not let his guard down, or else, he’d be dead.
…who was he kidding? He walked right into the enemy’s lair. He was as good as dead at this point.
“…I-I won’t arrest you.” Great. His voice had to start shaking, bloody hell. “If– If you let me go. I won’t arrest you. I’ll leave you be.”
@dcntcommitsuicide liked for a starter
Sitting on a restaurant patio in the golden autumn afternoon shouldn’t be this fucking hard, but it is.
Feels more like getting teeth pulled than sitting here on this bloody gorgeous day, sipping on a pint and waiting for a friend to join him. Everything in John is telling him to run, to slap a tenner on the table with an apologetic note, and then be off to sit in the dull grey dark of his new flat until he falls into a numb sleep just like he’s done every other damn night for the past two months.
Everything is just too… pleasant. It hurts.
It’s either a blessing or a curse that John never gets the opportunity to seriously consider leaving. He spies Lestrade walking toward him from the corner of his eye, and throws on a smile, rising up to greet his friend. They hadn’t seen each other since the funeral - not for lack of trying on Lestrade’s part, which only adds to the guilt.
“Greg,” John smiles, and find that to some relief he doesn’t have to fake being happy to see the man as he thought he might. “How’ve you been?”
Admittedly, he thought by the time he’d get to the restaurant, John wouldn’t be there.
Not like he expected the bloke to stand him up, no. More like he had been afraid John would end up leaving without waiting for him if he took too long to get there. So the moment he finished with work, he rushed to their meeting place, not wanting to miss the chance of having a chat with an old mate.
And to think it had been so hard to get a hold of John Watson lately too.
But he was there, and relief washed over him. Good. He hadn’t left yet. He found himself returning the smile etched on John’s features. God, how long had it been since he last saw him? Days? Weeks? Months? Christ, it felt like it had been ages ago.
“John. Hey.” His grin turned a little sheepish. “Sorry, did I make you wait too long?”
it literally took me hours to think of a response to this but all i can come up with is aoudgcbiasducbaidscahhhh
“I’m only here to HELP.” Natalia offered the kindest, more sincere smile she could offer, though she doubted it was as charming as it was BEFORE she’d experienced multiple world ending scenarios threatening to take her life everyday. She didn’t view simple police work as something BELOW her – she simply didn’t like working with SOCIOPATHS that held no compassion for his partners.
“Explain WHY you use him?” she asked the head inspector who was more KIND than the idiot she’d been paired with. Sherlock was nothing short of MAGNIFICENT, but his behavior was incredibly off putting. “You guys seem to know what you’re doing…”
@dcntcommitsuicide \ starter
“Because he’s better.”
Which had been Greg’s excuse, almost always. Because despite how rough the consulting detective’s attitude could be, he actually produced results. Swiftly. Something Greg’s team would have to put their heads together for hours and hours. And after victims and victims had started to pile up one by one, Greg had gone desperate.
There was his other excuse. He was desperate.
“I’m assuming he did something again?” He couldn’t help but ask, taking in a deep breath as he braced himself for the answer.
“If a bird walked into a crocodile’s mouth and the crocodile SNAPPED, is it kidnap or naivety on the bird’s behalf?”
The question was RHETORICAL. Greg had been stupid enough to enter Moriarty’s domain without back up, it was all too easy to LOCK HIM IN. A curious fly, a venus fly trap.
“I don’t need saving, detective,” Jim replied plainly. “The devil and I have FAR too much fun. Do you know what Lucifer means?” Jim took a tab of gum from his pocket and put it on his tongue, chewing it until the sugary shell had gone, “Bringer of light. Lucifer was the BRIGHTEST and MOST BEAUTIFUL of all the angels… ‘til god got jealous and cast him out.”
“Bloody spare me the lecture, eh?”
Moriarty wasn’t wrong – it really was a stupid move on Greg’s part to go investigate on his own. Without any backup. All because he had a hunch. Well, who would even think that his hunch was right, after all? Even Greg himself did not expect to be right either. But there he was, locked up right inside the place they had been searching for months. Right inside Moriarty’s lair.
“You know it won’t do you any good, keeping me here.” Which was partly true. The Yard wouldn’t know where he was. Sherlock might, but he didn’t hold onto hope that the bloke would actually look for him. “So why not just come with me to the precinct, yeah? Let’s not waste our time here.”
He intended the kiss to be rough and dominating, something Jim wouldn’t expect out of him.
Greg knew he took Jim by surprise. After all, between the two of them, he was not the one to initiate any sort of physical contact. So he didn’t mind that the other froze the first time he crashed his lips with his, pushing his tongue almost forcefully into Jim’s mouth. Hell, he even thought he would be pushed away once he felt a hand on his chest, but then Jim was kissing back. And so he tilted his head to deepen the kiss, letting his tongue tangle and roll with Jim’s, kissing him until his lungs were screaming for air.
The other man pulled away first, seemingly unable to speak a word. Greg didn’t mind. Not always did he get to shut him up. “You’re not used to snogging, are you?” He simply teased.
Greg’s face heated up a little. Why of course Sherlock would throw the question back at him. And it wasn’t something Greg could lie his way out of, because Sherlock would deduce it out of him anyway. Best not to address that question then. Maybe bloke wouldn’t even notice. “Why would I want to tie you up when I can just use my handcuffs?” He folded his arms over his chest, not meeting Sherlock’s eyes. “I’d rather cuff you down and use a gag on you when you’re being an insufferable git,” his train of thought went.
He didn’t realize he’d accidentally said it out loud.
“The way I see it, I thought you had the devil inside you for a long time now.”
After everything that Moriarty had done, after all the people he had killed, used and played with, Greg had been pretty convinced that the man was the devil himself. Quite an impression too – Greg had been working as a copper for the longest time but he’d never seen any criminal as clever but conniving as James Moriarty.
“So, you think I should save you from the devil then? Is that why you’ve decided to kidnap me?”
|| @ollphcist ||
POOR MAN’S POISON SENTENCE STARTERS, pt 1
“men of power telling lies; shifty hands and thirsty eyes.”
“they can smell your fear like blood.”
“oh, my weary soul, we’ve met your kind before.”
“oh, sweet providence, come save us from ourselves.”
“feed the rich and kill the poor.”
“turn out the lights and just ignore what’s going on outside.”
“we’ve turned their people into slaves.”
“we’ve given up before we’ve even tried.”
(* father’s lament.
“we’ve seen the best and we’ve seen the worst.”
“we’ve been blessed and we’ve been cursed.”
“your mommas know that I love you both, but they won’t tell you that I tried.”
“i try every day of my life.”
“it’s been a test to make it here.”
“my hope has faded through the years.”
“i’ve played the part, and i’ve played the fool, and i’ve been used.”
“i let them get the best of me, but it was all for you.”
“for what it’s worth, i never meant you any pain.”
“just so you know, i love you both just the same.”
“it’s all been worth it, just to watch you grow, boys.”
“i’ll be a daddy till i die.”
“when i die i’ll keep the angels by your side.”
(* 20 down.
“woke up this morning, she took all i had, my favourite fishing pole, and a 62 cab.”
“can’t feel the beat of a heart in my chest.”
“spent all my money and charged the rest.”
“now she’s gone, and i’m left to pay.”
“i never knew i’d find the devil in you.”
“you took it all and now you’re coming back for more.”
“went to the neighbors to share my news. turns out he’s sorry but he shared her too.”
“he said i drove her away.”
“her death’s been plotted and her plot’s been found.”
“six feet ain’t deep enough, it should be twenty down.”
(* the gallows.
“who’s got it all compared to who’s got enough.”
“all i ever wanted was true love.”
“who’s got it right, cause I feel I’ve got it wrong.”
“all these people walking around not knowing what they’ve done.”
“you seem to know what you think we should be.”
“i’ve tried for you for so long, if only you could see.”
“if you’ve got the cure, could you give it here to me?”
“i’ve been paying for this loneliness when loneliness is free.”
“bring me to the gallows. oh, bring me to my knees.”
“i’m still paying for all my mistakes. but one day, girl, you’ll see who i’m trying to be.”
“you can tell me i’m wrong, but i see right through your games.”
“you can leave me with the questions, you can leave me with the pain.”
“you can take control and leave me with the blame.”
“you can take away my son, but you can’t take away his name.”
“one day, girl, you’ll see who i’m trying to be.”
“i’m trying to be more than you and me.”
(* hey mister.
“my head’s hanging low and my shoes are worn.”
“i’ve had the blues in my soul since the day i was born.”
“the Devil’s been on my back, now, for quite some time.”
“it’s just been me and him, and the whispering wind, and it’s time to find a little peace of mind.”
“hey, mister, hey, are you going my way? i could sure use a ride out of this place.”
“hey, mister, hey, it’s coming around and i could sure use a ride out of this town.”
“i’ve been looking for a sign, looking for a friend.”
“been looking at the same dead eyes in the mirror, watching myself go down a dead end.”
“i’ve been waiting on a prayer that never made it to God.”
“it’s like going through Hell on a Sunday, but then going through Hell’s about all I got.”
(* black sheep.
“i’ve been seeing things for how they’ve really been.”
“i can see it in your eyes and still you call yourself my friend– and you’ve been holding out again.”
“i’ve been hoping that you wouldn’t be the one.”
“this black sheep on my back has been my sign of what’s to come.”
“you’ve been holding out again.”
“this is the last time and, yes, this is the end.”
“i should have known one day you would betray my trust.”
“i’ll tell you now, i never liked you all that much.”
“when you find yourself alone, i’ll just say i told you so.”
“you have always been and you will always be nothing more than a memory.”
“you’re nothing at all to me.”
“i’ve been watching how your eyes move to the ground.”
“i hear you change your story every time that i’m around– and you’ve been holding out again.”
“i’m done with you, i’m done with what you say you think is real.”
“if your friends ain’t what you thought they once were, then they ain’t your brothers.”
(* pressure cracks.
“you can feel it in the air. something just died and came back to play fair.”
“we could just walk away. or save it for another day.”
“if this feeling grows at all, we can just stand back and watch the castle fall.”
“have you ever tried to see what beats so strong inside of me?”
“it’s seldom that you ever cared.”
“make your moment and make my day.”
“this love has finally burned itself, betrayed.”
“if only we could do it again, you could have your fun with your so called friends.”
“i’ll forget that we ever kissed.”
“might as well use that knife in my back on my wrists.”
“i had a heart until you ripped it out and left me alone.”
(* it’s alright.
“i tend to pray what i’m thinking, and i tend to dream when i’m drinking.”
“if you knew me, you’d say that he’s a fool, but i like him anyways.”
“i tend to laugh when it’s worth it. i look for something bad when it’s perfect.”
“if she knew me, she’d say that she’s afraid, but she loves me, anyways.”
“i’ve got friends but not too many, and i can count them all on my two hands.”
“that’s alright with me.”
“it’s alright with me.”
(* c'mon down.
“hey man, c'mon down.”
“they’re sellin’ truth on the corner now.”
“the angels musta came into town last night.”
“they got your fix on the corner downtown.”
“look at them with the heavy hearts, broke down at the bottom not knowin’ where to start.”
“it’s all there in black and white.”
“you can lay down or you can put up a fight.”
“you can break bread with the beggars and thieves.”
“you can take that lesson that you learned today, share it around or throw it away.”
“in the end you’re gonna see you’re the only one, and this life’s just a game until the game stops bein’ fun.”
“he’s got God and the Devil fightin’ for his soul.”
“bought for a price and now he’s selling it all.”
“well, i tried and i’ll never try again.”
“betrayal runs deeper than blood; we are not friends.”
“you’ll just take, then take what’s left.”
“leave me desperate and longing for answers, longing for rest.”
“oh, redemption. oh, sweet redemption.”
“i’ve walked alone before and i’ll do it again.”
“where your footprints once lay beside mine, it’s now emptiness.”
“remember this day. remember the words, you chose it.”
“i hope it kills you inside every day, because inside i’m broken.”
Sherlock responding meant the man had been awake for some time already. Meant that either he had not been able to sleep at all, or something had woken him up. Greg could only blame himself for that, and he couldn’t help but feel bad. He should have left the bed the moment the nightmare woke him up. At least that could have prevented him from disturbing Sherlock from his slumber.
Still, the weight of the man’s head on his shoulder comforted Greg, a gentle reminder that he wasn’t alone. It didn’t even come as a surprise – Sherlock tend to have that effect on him after all. “Sorry, I just –” He took in a breath, leaned in closer to the other, almost seeking his warmth. “It’s just a nightmare.” He whispered, pressing a light kiss to the top of his lover’s hair. “You should get back to sleep.”
A breach of peace, they called it. More like him finally losing his mind. He’d gotten desperate, began asking questions that evidently got him suspected of being crazy. Even he wasn’t so sure anymore… But he could do little but allow the man to lead him in. The hand upon his shoulder was a firm one, but far from cruel and Sherlock is relieved to be taken to a quiet room. He’s still nervous, that much is clear, and he nods willingly when Lestrade offers to take off the handcuffs.
Taking a moment to examine the room, he finds himself calming for the first time since his strange arrival. Whether it was the presence of an official or the comfort of being inside of a building rather than on the street among all the noise and chaos, he didn’t know for certain. Whatever it was, he felt better now. If only just a bit.
“Yes, my name is Sherlock Holmes. Look, this is ridiculous. If I could explain what happened, I would, but you must believe me. There must be some record of me, I worked for Scotland Yard!” he exclaims, his voice is calm enough to his credit but his words are rushed in a show of continued anxiety. It’s too early for this, he hasn’t even had his tea. He’d just gone out for a breath of fresh morning air, but when he walked back out of that alleyway… It was not his London any longer.
They’re briefly interrupted by another officer, bringing Lestrade a few more papers and a bag of items taken off Sherlock. giving Sherlock a look. “So this the freak they dragged in?” he asked rudely, but Sherlock is beyond caring. The words hurt, but no worse than the rest of the day turning out. The man leaves and Sherlock refocuses his attention. He has to figure out where he is, how he got here. And, more importantly, how to get back. “What is your name?” he inquires socially.
Freak. The insult, said loud and clear, made Greg frown a little. Seemed like DS Collister had read the report too, about the homeless man that started asking odd questions enough to get himself arrested. Definitely not an excuse for the officer to intimidate the bloke however. He’d have to talk to him later about that.
Right now, however, he had more important things to take care of.
Once the Sergeant has left the room, Greg started rifling through Sherlock Holmes’ belongings. Surprisingly, he didn’t find anything for recreational use – minus an old tobacco pipe that Greg was pretty certain no one used anymore. Clearly, bloke didn’t have drugs on him.
Still, he couldn’t take the chance. He’d have to send him to the lab to get tested for drugs eventually.
“My name’s Detective Inspector Lestrade.” He leaned on the edge of his desk, almost casually. Relaxed, even. Didn’t seem like the bloke would attack him – if anything, he looked terrified. Greg couldn’t help but feel bad. “And I’ll try to pull my records and check your connections with the Yard, but there’s no guarantee I’ll find anything. I’ve been working for the Met for almost three decades now, and not once I’ve heard about you.” Unless he worked for another department, but then again, with how long he had worked there, he should have come across this lad once or twice at least.
“Now, Mr. Holmes, can you tell me what happened? I have statements from civilians but I’d like to hear your side too.”
Sometimes, it’s not a lack of muse or short attention span or lack of time. Sometimes we’re too afraid to write out the reply we had in mind in fear it’s inadequate or written too fast. Then we send replies days, or even weeks, later that we had thought out in our mind since the beginning.
“No, Greg! No! Do you want the bees to die? Do you want to be a BEE MURDERER? They will not survive in the basement!!:
“Then buy a bloody house out in the country and build a bee farm there! I know you care about the bees, but I bet my arse they won’t survive in my flat either!”
“Well, I have to farm them somewhere, Greg!! John won’t let me do it at the flat!!”
“And you think my flat is suitable for sodding bee farming??”
“No. Rent the basement flat below yours and grow your bee colony there.”
Oh, he’s smiling now. Damn it. He’s videotaping him and smiling. If this is going to end up on the internet, he’s going to MURDER HIM. “Keep in mind, Greg, I know how to murder someone and get away with it.” It’s a false threat, of course. “…..It’s pengwing. It’s always been pengwing.”
He probably noticed him filming, hence the threat. Greg didn’t pay it much mind though – he’d never shared the videos he took of Sherlock to anyone anyway. “It’s not like I’ll show this to anyone.” Though he finally took pity and stopped recording, grinning even more as he saved it on his phone. “Still, it’s penguin, Sherlock. No one calls it pengwing. But it’s cute. I mean, they technically have wings!”
“…..” Eyes squint at Greg as if observe him closely. Is he….is he trying not to laugh at him? The way he unlocks his phone to try and take a video doesn’t go missed and it only further CONFUSES the male. “…..Pengwing?”
This time Greg wasn’t able to keep the smile off his face. For some reason he found the way Sherlock said the word too cute. So of course, he kept the recording running. “You do know they’re called penguins, right?”
Greg had to pause and stare at Sherlock. Did he just say pengwing instead of penguin?
Then he had to bite the inside of his cheek to stifle a laugh. Wasn’t that adorable?
He unlocked his phone and started to take a video, aiming the camera to Sherlock.
“Alright, mate, you’re going to have to say that one more time.”
|| @scciopath ||