The word "ATLAS" stood out obvious and grisly on the boy's back. A sick smirk slowly spread across the Irishman's features, and he chuckled to himself.

Grantaire's vision was beyond double. His body swayed back and forth as if he was on a ship out at sea, physically trying his best to stay upwards and avoid toppling over face first into the musty carpet of his living room. His hands, smeared with yellow paint, trembled along with his shoulders as the drunken realization of what was happening crashed down on him.

An alternate ending where the boat never comes, and Ralph is hunted down by Jack's tribe of hunters only to be captured and taken in as a slave instead of murdered right on the spot. Maybe eventual Ralph/Jack, rating may change as I go along. Violence.

Jim's in a good mood, and that means that everyone around him has it easier for the time being, and that Sherlock get's gifts.

Sherlock doesn't usually drink. But he has free will with smoking and drinking when he's with Moriarty, though he makes an observation about his wine that Jim is proud of. Just a drabble from tumblr. The ship was sheriarty and the word to use in the drabble was "red wine."