prompting part XXIII
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Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post
IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt Post.
( Read more... )
“350 gsm paper, more - no one professional or familiar with handicrafts would fold that twice. And honestly John, she’s ruled in then erased pencil lines so her writing would be straight, the type of paper on the front for the heart is highly expensive, from the amount of handling its had it’s hardly likely she scribbled the thing down in half an hour. It’s handmade, she wants it to be personal, important. I highly doubt she couldn’t just pop down to the nearest WHSmith to get something the right size. That and the glue on the heart is a completely different type to the glue sticking the halves together. It’s stronger, much stronger. Someone wants this opened.”
He gave a wild grin of triumph as the knife slid in and the edges of the card were teased apart, revealing more handwriting. “A secret message, how fascinating. Not very secret of course but then they did send it to you and only assumed I’d be paying attention. That makes it personal, something for the both of us. They knew I wouldn’t leave it alone; reader of your blog, perhaps, must be someone who’s done at least a little homework.”
John sighed and gritted his teeth, but gritted them mostly against his rising smile. It was an absurd relief, somehow, to know that the anonymous love letter wasn’t in fact as plain as that - that it could be studied, that it was something else. He thought: it probably wasn’t even worth wondering what single blokes would think that. “Go on then, enough suspense,” John said. He watched as Sherlock finished slicing open the edges, tossing the knife back down and flipping the paper open to read.
And he’d been too optimistic, hadn’t he? John pressed his lips together, felt the all too familiar sinking feeling as Sherlock’s smile dropped abruptly and his eyes narrowed, scanning the writing. “Well?” he prompted, because he could already see Sherlock retreating back into that unfathomable mind of his. “You just said it has to do with the both of us.”
Sherlock’s eyes refocused, flicked over to John. His lips moved minutely, silently. “Look,” John said, starting to feel anxious. “Just hand it over.” He made to take it, grabbed it even as Sherlock was pulling it out of reach.
Dearest John, he read, before Sherlock spoke. “Moriarty,” he murmured, making no move to take the thing back. “It’s Moriarty’s hand.”
Somehow John didn’t quite register that, kept reading despite for his eyes telling him: stop, stop.
I want to skin your hands and make you crawl to me over sandpaper, John, and when you reach me I’ll give you a cuddle and let you chose between getting me off with your hands and getting me off with your mouth. You’ll be so brave and I know you won’t cry or beg, though your face will crumple when you realise what I’m asking. You’ll try to use your hands at first but even though I’ll be so turned on it will be so painful you’ll have to finish me with your mouth. Then when it’s over you’ll have your own blood and my come in your mouth and over your lips, John, and that’ll be the most beautiful sight in the world.
I’ll send you home after making sure you know not to clean yourself up before you get back. I might even give you a camera so you can take a picture to send to me of Sherlock’s face when he first sees you. If you do I’ll keep it forever.
Lovingly yours,
xxx
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It had to be harassment. Moriarty was twisted but he’d shown no interest in him the last time they’d come face to face.
“I’ll start with dinner, then?” he said, the first thing that came to mind. Sherlock didn’t even look up from the card, but he wasn’t reading it. His eyes were out of focus. “Sherlock, don’t -” don’t worry, he’d meant to say, but really? “Look, if it doesn’t mean anything, if he’s just being a sick fuck, then ignore it. He probably just wants a reaction, it’s not actually hurting anyone. Give it to Lestrade. Let it go.”
“These things never come on their own,” Sherlock said quietly, even as he carefully refolded the card and tucked it away in his jacket pocket. He stared at John as if he were in the far distance, then lay back down across the sofa and refused to talk for the rest of the night.
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Very creative with the letter, both that the creepy part is hidden in a way that only Sherlock would figure out, and the creativity of Jim's imagination.
Looking forward to the rest!
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I especially love the detail you put into the make of the letter; it really felt like I was watching the show, having Sherlock point out all the 'important' bits. It was quite fascinating. Even though you haven't written much yet, both John and Sherlock seem perfectly in character too; you've done a fabulous job so far.
Hope to see more of this soon, anon! ♥
As for the ending? I'm pretty open to whatever you want, though I would prefer both John and Sherlock live. Everyone else...and whatever you want to do to them...is up to you, I suppose. I didn't think that far ahead tbh, so it'll be a pleasant (or unpleasant) surprise!
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