You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like sherlock.
Stranger: ”System reboot required.” The machine of a man spoke stiffly, it’s dull yet stormy crystal orbs catching the glint of the light from the wall height-and-length windows. The machine whirred and the wires it was attached to strained to hold up the cyborgs weight. Then everything went blank, darkness filled the room, and no sounds could be heard besides the visitors’ breathing. The lines of the soft, flesh-like covering plates split a bit, exposing the wiring inside. There, among the countless lights, metal organ like structures, and plentiful wiring, was set his heart. A human heart.
You: A human heart suspended within a web of wires, cooled by what appeared to be water, and near where the stomach should have been a small generator seemed to radiate some heat. “System reboot require,” hung in the air like a incantation, a harbringer of things to come yet unknown and as the heart began to beat, the eyes to the cyborg slowly opened.
Stranger: DID THEY REALLY? ]
Stranger: [ = 3= ]
You: [LOL look you gave me a rough start there :p did what I could]
Stranger: [ I gave you a starter that you could reply to with a different character. ]
You: [take it or leave it. you didn’t establish so neither did I]
Stranger: [ I did, actually. = v= ]
Stranger: [ So Goodbye, seeing as you didn’t seem to grasp it. ]
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
Stranger: Sherlock stirred groggily, blinking heavily. He tried to move his arms, only to find they were bound behind him. Suddenly panicking, he began to struggle, trying to get free. He froze when he heard a familiar, cold laugh behind him.
You: Across from him a slightly battered John Watson sat on the ground cuffed to a support beam. He had a cut above his left eye that was bleeding freely.
Stranger: Sherlock paled and started struggling again. “John! John are you okay?”
You: ”Yupe, no worse for wear,” John called back haughtily. The bruise on his face making it hard to sound as confident as he would have liked. “You okay?”
You’re now chatting with a random stranger. Say hi!
You and the stranger both like Sherlock, and johnlock.
Stranger: ”Hold me?” Sherlock asks quietly from the couch
You: ”Of course,” John walks over and embraces the tall slim man, “What’s going on?”
Stranger: Sherlock doesn’t speak immediately, just nestles into John, sighing. “Just like you is all.” he answers
You: John smiles and hums into Sherlocks crown, kissing his head. “That makes me impossibly happy. You know that?”
Stranger: Sherlock smiles softly. “It does? Why?”
You: ”Haha,” John laughs softly and hesitates a beat, “You promise not to laugh at me?”
Stranger: Sherlock rolls his eyes “I suppose. What is it?”
You: John catches Sherlock’s chin, guiding the man to meet his gaze, and locks eyes. “Because when I look at you, Sherlock, the very breath of my lungs is rendered immobile. My skin is set ablaze with tingling excitement and anticipation. My chest swells with so much adoration that if you didn’t like me, even just a little bit, I’d choke on the feeling and die right here, right now. Because I love you, and if you didn’t love me, I’d be damned………does that make sense?”
Stranger: Sherlock’s eyes have gone wide and unblinking. “You-” he stops, practically speechless, something he isn’t used to. He finally realizes that he isn’t breathing and has to take a breath. “I am..worth that much to you?” he aks in a whisper
You: ”More,” John nods.
Stranger: Sherlock goes practically limp in John’s embrace, closing his eyes against the warmth. “You are everything to me.” he says “I am nothing without you.”
You: John holds Sherlock tightly against him, feeling the detective breathe in and out softly. The soft light of a lamp casting shadows, obscuring Sherlock’s face.
Stranger: ”Did you every read that book with the rabbit.” comes the sudden random question
You: John can’t help but smile, “Ah, the one with the watch? Or perhaps the one where you could pet the bunny?”
Stranger: Sherlock chuckles. “How much do you love me? I think it was the title or something like that. I love you as high as I can reach.” he says for example
You: ”I don’t know that one!” John says excitedly, “Tell me more!”
Stranger: Sherlock smiles widely against his nature. “You would say: I love you all the way to the moon.”
You: John nods in an exaggerated manner, “A close estimate to the true amount.”
Stranger: Sherlock smirks “Then I would say: I love you to the moon, and back.”
You: ”Is it true?” John asks quietly.
Stranger: ”Course, idiot.” Sherlock answers smiling.
You: John leans over, placing his forehead against Sherlock’s brow, curls tickling him slightly.
Stranger: Sherlock leans up, kissing John properly, humming
You: John exhales deeply, caressing Sherlock’s cheek.
You: John breaks the kiss, “What was that for?”
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
Just the image is a reblog.
BEST JOHN EVER
Stranger: “Sherlock?” John asked, immediately regretting it. How did one start this conversation? It was awkward enough, but this was Sherlock here. Sherlock was on the couch, back facing the room. “Could we…could we talk?”
You: Sherlock’s toes curled and uncurled quickly. A muffled, “About what?” climbed the curt answer from the couch.
Stranger: John rolled his eyes. “Sherlock,” he said, exasperated. “Look at me?”
You: The tip of Sherlock’s nose crested the shoulder, “what for?”
Stranger: ”Because I’m trying to have a serious conversation with you.”
You: Sherlock hesitates for a bit, but finally decides to roll over and face John. “Yes?”
Stranger: John relaxed. “Thank you.” He bit his lip, hesitantly. “We’ve been together…what…a year and a half?”
You: ”Closer to two I think. Why?”
Stranger: ”I, erm…I was wondering if you…have you ever… oh /hell,/” he sighed, dragging a hand through his hair. “Haveyoueverthoughtaboutchildren?”
You: Sherlock’s face was set fast, no emotion could be read there. He sat up on the couch. “Children? As in “Sherlock do you like children,” or “Sherlock do you want children?”
Stranger: ”As in ‘Sherlock do you want children…with me?’” John asked quietly, avoiding Sherlock’s eyes.
You: Sherlock got up slowly, crossing the distance between them, kneeling in front of John and cupping his face. He locked eyes with the blonde. His voice was deep and clear, coming from deep in his chest, pronouncing each word carefully, “Do you realize what you’re asking me?”
Stranger: ”To do something anatomically impossible in the literal form of the question?” John asked, attempting to bring a bit of humour into the situation.
You: Sherlock shook his head slowly, drawing closer, “No, John, please. No jokes.”
Stranger: John nodded. “To raise a child with you. To be Daddy and Father or whatever the hell you want to be called. To be parents.”
You: ”John, you know me better than anyone. You know it’s more complicated than that. You’re asking me, a sociopath-because that /is/ what I am-to set aside my own selfishness, and not only share myself, my time, my space,” Sherlock brushed his thumb over John’s cheek, “but also you. You’re asking me to be something extraordinary.” Sherlock shook his head. “Me a father? I’ll ruin children, John….I’d…..I’d…destroy them….”
Stranger: ”No you wouldn’t,” John said gently, his own hand reaching out to brush Sherlock’s cheek. “I know you. You’re not a sociopath. Wait,” he said, cutting Sherlock off. “I know you’re not. Look at this. Look at us. This is not sociopathic behaviour. Being a parent /is/ extraordinary. And you wouldn’t be alone.”
You: Sherlock’s eyes glazed with tears, “so you….want to have children with me? There’s no guarantee I can, we can recreate what we have with children John. I’m thankful that you happened, but a family?”
Stranger: John smiled. “Of course I want children with you.” His smile faded. “Only if you want them.”
You: Sherlock leaned close, softly kissing John’s cheek. “Tell me. Tell me why, with me…” he whispered.
Stranger: ”Because I love you. Because I think that despite everything you think you are, you would be a fantastic father. Because I can’t see us /not/ having kids together. Ones we can say are /ours/.” John said quietly, resting his forehead on Sherlock’s.
You: ”Ours” Sherlock repeated the word hung in the air like a charm. “What will they call you?”
Stranger: ”Daddy,” John said with a smile. “You?”
You: Sherlock started to smile, embarrassed. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I would answer to.”
Stranger: ”You don’t have to be anything. You could just be…Sherlock,” John said. As weird as it was, he’d seen weirder.
You: ”So not only would our children have to deal with social stigma of being raised by two fathers, we’ll add the issue of ‘why is one Daddy and the other Sherlock’?”“
Stranger: ”Good point,” John said, silently cursing. “It’s getting more common though. Two fathers…two mothers…Hell, even Harry and Clara talked about it before…I’m glad they never did.”
You: ”Hmm,” Sherlock nodded thoughtfully,” they’ll have to look and act like you.”
Stranger: John’s eyes narrowed. “Why?”
You: Sherlock watched John’s eyes contract, and smiled, “Why do you think?”
Stranger: ”I don’t want them to. Not necessarily. Sherlock when I said I love you, I meant I love everything about you. /Everything./ I love you /because of/ who you are. Not in spite of.”
You: Sherlock sighed heavily, pulling away slightly, and standing. “John, we have to protect them from me! I love you more than anything. The fact that we’re even having this conversation is a testament to that, but let’s be practical. To ensure that I’ll treat them properly they have to remind me of something I care deeply about.” Sherlock spread is arms wide, “Don’t you see?”
Stranger: ”You care about me,” John said slowly. “So the only way you’ll care about them is if…they look and act like me? Sherlock short of human cloning that’s not going to happen.”
You: Sherlock stood with his hands on his hips, ” I could do it you know,” he pointed, “in that very kitchen! Just a few months…..”
Stranger: ”Sherlock,” John said, cutting him off. “No.”
You: Sherlock looked absolutely lost; he sighed deeply, “Fine, Very well. Tell me how this is to play out.”
Stranger: ”This,” John said gently, “is only going to play out if you want it. We’re /partners/ Sherlock. Neither of us make decisions based solely on us anymore. Just because I want kids doesn’t mean we’re going to have kids.”
You: ”John, look at me, what do you ask of me? On any given day, do you so much as ask me to pick up milk from the store?”
Stranger: ”I /ask/,” John said, trying to prove his point. “And then I pick it up anyway.”
You: ”Do you ask me to make the tea?”
Stranger: ”Yes,” John said quickly. “And you make it just the way I like it.” Only took him six months.
You: ”And how long did that take? And how long did we know each other before I would even make it?”
Stranger: John’s gaze dropped. “A little over a year. Six months after you made it the way I like.”
You: ”John, do you think I don’t realize that you don’t ask me for /anything/?”
Stranger: ”I ask…sometimes,” John said lamely.
You: ”This is the one thing. This is it, and I know it John. If you’re asking this of me, it’s because you’ve been thinking on it for a long time—I dare say a /very/ long time. The very notion of asking at all tells me that your very /soul/craves this request because you were willing to discuss this with me, even in my mood.”
Stranger: ”Yes,” John said quite simply. “Yes, I have been thinking about it for a long time. Since the beginning actually. And yes, I want it so badly. But if /you/ don’t, tell me, and I will never ask you again. And I would be happy with that.”
You: Sherlock looked at John for several long silent moments, eventually looking away speaking softly, “What does a child mean….a child means unity…the product of a relationship, or at least a coupling, a vie for the future. Years spent nursing wounds and recitals, arguments and accomplishments. Something that will forever tie John Watson and Sherlock Holmes, the magnum opus of two lives.” Sherlock looked weakly at John, “How could I not want it?”
Stranger: ((Jesus that was good.))
Stranger: John smiled. “You…you really want this?”
You: ((God, thank you—your John is so lovely and perfect :)))
You: ”John, I am terrified of it. Of being unequal to the task…..but yes I want it, but only with you.”
Stranger: ((Your Sherlock is so In Character it’s amazing.))
Stranger: ”Sherlock,” John said taking his hand. “You’re a genius. An actual genius. If anyone can figure it out, it’s you.”
You: Sherlock shook his head, “No, no John. This isn’t an experiment. I can’t throw a mistake in the rubbish, you can’t take back those hurtful words you might say thoughtlessly or the lack of enthusiasm when they hand you a shotty little home made gift. John, I don’t want to hurt them or disappoint you.”
Stranger: ”I know you don’t. And you’re right. It’s not an experiment. And if you hurt them, I /would/ be disappointed, but…that’s why I thought…maybe…” he ran his free hand through his hair again, looking away. It was a stupid idea anyway.
You: ”Please. Tell me. Maybe?” Sherlock said encouragingly.
Stranger: ”I want the child to be yours,” John said, so quietly he didn’t know if Sherlock heard him.
You: Sherlock’s eyes widened, then narrowed. “What?”
Stranger: John’s heart pounded. “I want,” he repeated. “Our child to be biologically yours.”
You: Sherlock knees weakened, and he sat on the ground. He had no other choice, sit or fall. His hands covered his mouth momentarily, staring at John. “Please go on.”
Stranger: ”What more is there to say? I want…him…yes I would like a him…to be like you,” John said, trying and failing to judge Sherlock’s response.
You: Sherlock shook his head, “That’s no, that’s” a long paus hung as he searched for the word, “unfair to you.”
Stranger: ”Unfair to—Sherlock, I /want/ this. How is it unfair if it’s something I choose?”
You: ”Because John” Sherlock’s voiced raised slightly, “it would always be my son, no matter what—even if I’m the worst parent there ever was! My genes get to live on passed on to another generation, and what of yours? No! Besides, you, you’re a superior human being- a good man, I’m just a smart prat!”
Stranger: ”Yes. Your genes, your amazing, fantastic genes get to get passed on to another generation. And it would be great. You’re not a prat. And yes, it /would/ always be your son, but he would be /our/ son, Sherlock. Ours.”
You: Sherlock’s chest felt tight his mind was a mess. Images of terrible things that might happen to a child in his keep, a malnutritioned youth, lonely or worse a child that would be anti social and unaffectionate with John. It was too much, too much. Sherlock rose slowly, taking John roughly into his arms, hugging him tightly, bodies flush against one another. He found his voice shaky as he asked,”Why not yours John? Explain it to me.”
Stranger: ”You’re beautiful and so incredibly special to me. And to have another person, someone who carries your DNA calling me Daddy…” John’s eyes misted over. He had wanted it. For so long. For reasons he couldn’t even put into words. “He wouldn’t just be in your care, Sherlock, if that’s what worries you.”
You: Sherlock nodded slowly, breath a little shaky, “You shouldn’t have to play parent to me and the child.” He held John tighter, “You and I want the same thing. I want your children, and you want mine. John, what are we going to do?”
Stranger: ”I don’t ‘play’ anything with you. You’re my partner, Sherlock. I take care of both of us,” John said, resting his head on Sherlock’s shoulder.
You: ”I love you John. Did you know?” Sherlock said kissing John’s hair.
Stranger: ”I know Sherlock,” John said, smiling. “I love you too.”
You: An idea dawned on Sherlock.He released John. “You’re the doctor…twins?”
Stranger: ((Dammit. My mom’s kicking me off the computer. Tumblr?))
Stranger: ((See you on the Tumblr side!))
Your conversational partner has disconnected.
anyone else automatically think Deathnote here?
lays in wait…for RP buddy.
When she get’s on it’ll be like