Like what if they were set up by Mycroft (the attacks were fierce but not mortal) in some distorted way to gaslight his brother so that Sherlock actually backs down from his dangerous adventures.
Moriarty kidnaps Sherlock and John and makes them act out scenes for him. Like, taking care of a baby and going to the zoo. Sherlock and John have never been so terrified in all their lives.
All of us fangirls, so innocently prompting, not realizing that prompt by prompt, each cracky/angsty/fluffy/smutty fic is slowly drawing John and Sherlock closer to their doom as Moriarty prepares the ultimate fill. In other words, seconded.
Fill: Sherlock Says What? (1/1)jellybean728February 9 2011, 03:33:29 UTC
Sort of crack/fluff.
Sherlock noted John was unusually quiet this morning as he sipped his tea. Normally John spent his morning before work reading the newspaper and making comments that he knew would spark Sherlock into conversation, even it was a bitter diatribe about the stupidity of his fellow man.
"John?" One of the things Sherlock liked best about John was his forthrightness. That single question had always been enough invitation for John to speak whatever was on his mind.
"I'm fine," John said. Clearly lying, Sherlock thought. "It's just..." John paused, fiddling with the handle of his teacup. Sherlock became concerned. John only fiddled when something was truly wrong. John cleared his throat. Even worse. Fiddling and throat clearing ranked in the territory of I've found a dismembered body part in an unsavory area of the flat and it concerns me you might actually be experimenting on a person you killed and chopped into little pieces."Please, John, what is it?" His voice certainly did not waver
( ... )
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There should totally be a noob like that on Sherlock and John's blog next season.
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Like what if they were set up by Mycroft (the attacks were fierce but not mortal) in some distorted way to gaslight his brother so that Sherlock actually backs down from his dangerous adventures.
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Also, weird things Mycroft yells during sex.
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Sherlock noted John was unusually quiet this morning as he sipped his tea. Normally John spent his morning before work reading the newspaper and making comments that he knew would spark Sherlock into conversation, even it was a bitter diatribe about the stupidity of his fellow man.
"John?" One of the things Sherlock liked best about John was his forthrightness. That single question had always been enough invitation for John to speak whatever was on his mind.
"I'm fine," John said. Clearly lying, Sherlock thought. "It's just..." John paused, fiddling with the handle of his teacup. Sherlock became concerned. John only fiddled when something was truly wrong. John cleared his throat. Even worse. Fiddling and throat clearing ranked in the territory of I've found a dismembered body part in an unsavory area of the flat and it concerns me you might actually be experimenting on a person you killed and chopped into little pieces."Please, John, what is it?" His voice certainly did not waver ( ... )
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