Mom and the babies giving me attitude about picture time. Did you know baby guinea pigs (and most other South American rodents) are born precocious? They have their eyes open and can run around within a few minutes after birth! #guineapig #guineapigs #peegs #cutelings https://www.instagram.com/p/CnUxh9GODYb/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=
Stuffed bell pepper. That's the dish I was trying to think of and failing! The babies are mostly doing great. Some of the youngest group are sadly gone. It's much rougher on babies who have to start with bottle milk on day one. This video is only a day old, and they've already moved onto the next size enclosure because of their precocious hops! They now get to bink around a 4'x4' exercise pen with a foam tile floor. This thing is a little pop-up play pen that worked great for a bit, but they're learning to chew and started thinking about putting holes in the mesh sides. #baby #bunnies #rabbits #babybunny #cutelings #binkies #cuddlepile https://www.instagram.com/p/COfUSkfjGCk/?igshid=1gfu37jxn1atq
I have a kingsman sketchbook and I doodle kingsman in it as well as collect kingsman doodles from friends and riwox doodled some merlins in it while I was gone !! :)
(Might fix it up more later but have an early christmas gift voodooling~)
Sherlock is at a really young age when he finds out about voodoo and so he wants to scientifically test it so he needs a subject to test it on.
And that age, of course it's Mycroft.
So he makes the doll. Then when Mycroft is in the study, organizing his papers, Sherlock runs a small piece of paper against the hands and hears Mycroft hiss in pain as he gets a paper cut. But of course that could just be a coincidence.
He has to test it again.
So at dinnertime, he has the doll hidden in his lap and he accidentally drops hid fork on it at the same time Mycroft's fork drops and pokes him in the leg. It could still be a coincidence though. There are too many factors involved.
Another test should be done... But what should it be?
Sherlock is now in his room, fiddling with the doll. No ideas are coming to mind. He sets it aside and attempts to get out of bed, but his blankets catch on his legs and the doll falls to the ground. At the same time he hears a thump and Mycroft's "Oof!" at the bottom of the staircase. He peaks out his door and sees his brother shaking off the stumble and rubbing at his sore spots.
It's too much of a coincidence. He feels too responsible.
He wants to get rid of the doll now. But would the destruction of the doll cause the destruction of his brother? He doesn't dare to find out.
He finds a space in a cabinet. Not too high off the ground but not clustered amongst his other possessions and experiments. He has no clue if it would cause his brother to suffocate or catch a disease so he's not taking any chances.
So as years go on, Mycroft graduates and starts to work for the government, ignoring his sudden irrational fear of darkness and claustrophobia. Another motivation to keep him aware of all of London at all times of the day and to always have his assistant on hand in case of emergencies. But throughout his career, he has miraculously survived countless attempts on his life. And no one, not even himself, knows how or why. But now something is changing. He can feel it. Like a warm feeling in his bones. Like strings holding him up are being cut and severed.
At the Holmes' residence, Sherlock is packing up to leave for university, taking special care of the doll he had. He placed it on top of his bed right in the center and made sure to fix up any red blemishes that appeared on the dolls surface before he went throughout the house for his other possessions. When he came back into his room though, it was gone.
He searched throughout the house, running as fast as he could. His feet skidding on the polished floors as he turned down hallways.
Then he saw it.
His mother with the doll in hand.
Her grasp tight.
A stern and disappointing look on her face.
She was standing in front of the fireplace.
She gave him no time to explain. She told him what she thought about it. How wrong it was for him to be practicing such dark things. How he could even do this under her own roof. And then she tossed it into the flickering fire.
He shouted.
He lounged for the doll to get it out of the fire with his bare hands, but she pulled him back from the now black flames consuming the fabric.
His face was pale as he was gasping. She had no idea. She couldn't have.
She held onto him tightly as his shoulders heaved and she patted his head.
All will be fine. She soothed into his hair.
He shook his head. No. No it wouldn't. How could she? How could she say such things and take such actions?
He's free now, Sherlock. Only ever make those dolls for those you hate. Not those you care for. It only ends in pain.
He raised his head and his voice.
HE WAS YOUR SON! How could you be so cold about this?!
And he is still your brother, Sherlock. Did you think you were doing him a favor? Trying to control his life like that at such a young age?
No. No I wasn't. But... You mean... He is fine? He's unharmed from the flames?
Of course he is fine. I enchanted the fire to destroy the ties between him and the object. Now his destiny is no longer held within a closet and his path can take him anywhere now. And you, young man, have much to learn before you leave. Our family can't afford to have a second scandal of this degree.
And with that he nodded solemnly. Glad his brother was safe, the fear and power the doll gave him now off his shoulders. He fell to his knees as his mother left the room to retrieve a book. One that was passed down from many generations.
He wasn't the only one that felt they could finally breathe freely.
Mycroft felt warm. Almost feverish for a while but the sensation passed quickly enough. Years of stress unknown to him disappeared. He wasn't even aware of its presence until it was gone. His muscles unknotted, he stretched as he called for his assistant. For the longest time he always felt stuffed, but now a hunger, a craving, is consuming him. He ordered dessert in what felt like the first time since he was a young boy and he relished every bite, not knowing why he refused this delicious delicacy every time the opportunity presented itself, but now he felt like he had control and he was going to enjoy every single minute of it.
Just wanted to stop by and let you know that I own your Case of the Numerous Cumberbatches mug and I drink tea out of it every morning before I go to class and it makes me SO HAPPY :D You're the best!
