I really love them ^ ^
Meaning that if my character angers your muse, it’s okay that yours reacts violently, especially if that is the nature of your character.
But you do not get to kill them without my permission.
When he reached out to touch her face, she allowed him to do and smiled, leaning a bit into his touch. “Hobby. Something I find enjoyable, curious and want to learn more.” Or at least that is how she found hobby.
"I’m many things." She moved her hand from his touch and looked passed his shoulder, memories of herself appearing, a bit of a haze of visible enough to know the different of each moment. "I’m a traveller. Of time and of space."
Something one find enjoyable and want to learn more…
Those words became deeply engraved in his mind. And as he turned, following the direction of her eyes, different panels of different scenes appeared in front of them. In one after another, the doctor was wearing something different though matching the ones she was with every time.
A time traveller. You’re a Time Lady? He raised his hand, hoping he could touch the panels but he cannot. He couldn’t.
After all, this wasn’t his memories.
What about him though?
He doesn’t have any… aside from the time he spent in the tube.
Chuckling she watched him blush before going back to his plate. Reaching over she kissed his cheek. “Cute.” She softly said, more to herself to him.
"Yes, while you’re in the shower I’ll go and run out." Taking a few more bite she put her fork down and grabbed her coffee, knowing she’ll need it. "Do you need anything while I’m out? Do we need milk?"
Trying to finish the remaining pancake he had on his plate, he turned to her. “Yes, I believe we’re almost out milk.” Sherlock gave a half-smile to his wife before finally bringing the last piece to his lips and downing it with coffee.
A moment after, he stood up taking his plate and placed it down the sink.
My character is being kept on suicide watch at a psych ward. Send me ✃ for their response to your character visiting them.
Sherlock was looking intently at the person in front of him. Anger was obvious in his eyes but he made no attempt on lashing it out. It was pointless, it was useless. He was never expecting for her to visit. He doesn’t want to see anyone. He wanted to end this. End it all. Why won’t they get that?
"Fancy seeing you here, Molly Hooper." Her name rolled out on his lips like acid. "Checking to see if I’m alive? Well, obviously, you got your answer."
The words seemed simple, but they knew that it was one of the most difficult things to do.
"Live and make new memories, try to find the old you or make something new, but even if you can’t remember, we do. We remember who you used to be, who are again, and who you can become, but even if you don’t remember, if you don’t become that man again, you’ll still become someone new. Someone that we will love, because we fell in love with the you now, who you became was just a bonus."
Molly paused and took a deep breath.
"Give us a chance.."
Sherlock eyes went tightly shut. He took a deep breathe and had it released with a shudder. It was such an easy request but painfully hard. Would he be able to be the person they all wanted him to be? Would he be able to give them all a chance? To give himself a chance?
His hand rested against the glass separating him from Molly.
Finally, he answered. “Alright.”
He’d try again.
At first Richard was ready for the man to mistake him for his brother, to perhaps tense up for a moment or something of the sort before figuring out he was indeed not his twin. Instead, however, the man opened the door and looked at him as if he was completely oblivious, as if he was merely just another usual person at his door. He momentarily considered that he’d knocked on the wrong door but this was definitely the man he’d seen the reports of.
"Um.. My brother, J-Jim Moriarty… I need to g-get away from him and.. and he always said you w-were the only one that could e-equal him and I need your help.. Please, I.. I need to you to k-keep me safe from him."
He knew it was a long string of words, that he’d just nervously rambled but at the moment that was all he had, the longer he was outside, the more of a chance that one of the people working for his brother would see him and tell his brother where he was. Then he’d be found and punished, undoubtedly.
"M-My name is R-Richard Brook.."
The way the man’s voice sounded seemed that he’s in trouble, but Richard, as the man have introduced himself… was expecting that he knew the man.
Well, it does sound a bit… familiar. He just doesn’t remember where he’s heard of the person’s name. However, if Richard’s in trouble, he should smehow help him in anyway.
That’s how John does it, right? Trying to save lives.
"Come in." He opened the door for the man to come inside as he looked from either direction, checking if the man was followed before finally closing the door, heading to his flat upstairs. "Follow me."
At the corner of his eye, he could see traces of abuse in the man. Traces of black and blue few inches from his shirt sleeve, also one fading just underneath the collar of his shirt.
What the man saying was indeed true, but he couldn’t help the fact that this man… his face… was seemingly familiar to him as well.
The second he was out of sight, a trembling hand came up and ran over his face, a quiet sigh leaving him. The pretense was hard to keep up when he wasn’t expecting to need it. It killed him to be so cold towards Sherlock. It killed him to see how his ‘lie’ hurt Sherlock. He wanted nothing more than to pull him close and promise him that every single word he said was true, to soothe away the pain and heartache, to love him.
But he wasn’t allowed. He wasn’t allowed, and it made him want to scream in frustration. He didn’t do that, either. He just let his hand fall to his side as he went back to the couch, pulling his laptop close to him once more as he sought to ignore the presence of Sherlock bloody Holmes.
Sherlock continued to ruffle his hair against the towel, but it’s not about him drying his hair anymore. He didn’t want to look stupid and weak than he already was, at least not in front of Sebastian. Because no matter what, everything simply just hurt, yet even so, he wouldn’t let the man see his tears. He already have enough humiliation and despair for a lifetime.
Quietly, he walked to where Sebastian was sitting. Since he’s already there and the man still didn’t place his head to his faithful master, he finally made a decision. In truth, he’s really just tired of it all. He’s tired of getting angry, he’s tired of thinking of the man’s betrayal, he’s tired of getting revenge. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault in the first place, he was the one who accepted the invitation to fall with the man. He accepted it blindly and it was just normal to suffer its consequence.
And so, he’s accepting it now.
A dagger with intricate design was pulled out Sherlock’s pocket. Sebastian was its first owner and he remembered the night the sniper gave the weapon him. He’d no use for it now.
"I’m returning this to you. I have no intention of getting my revenge anymore. I realize it’s stupid since as you said it wasn’t your fault. And I do believe that." He said quietly as he placed the weapon on the table, the towel still hanging on top of his hair, covering his eyes as well. "Falling in love with you was my ultimate demise. I accept it with open arms."
Before Sebastian could say something, he already turned, heading back to the door.
He’s leaving for good.
"Well, I am uncertain about what to say about this area. As you know, John, I have no experience, at least not that I could recall, or can even recall due to my state obviously. So I am not sure as to why you are asking me about how does a date sound.”
"Yes, now. Better to do it now, than give you time to think yourself out of it." John smiled softly at Sherlock, letting him know he wasn’t trying to be mean, just helpful. So he finished preparing to go out as Sherlock did, moving to take the younger man’s hand before they walked out, hailing a cab.
"We’ll go to the park and then grab a snack at that fish ‘n chips shop you like."
Sherlock only chuckled as John held his hand, feeling light headed at what’s currently happening. “I was only thinking that I would have at least dressed better than this.”
He never released John’s hand even if they went inside the cab, he liked the warmth that it gives him. It was giving him enough comfort. “A quiet walk in the park sounds nice in this night,” he agreed. It’s less people at this time of night. “And hmm, been a while since I’ve had them.”
Send me a ✿ and my muse will react to your muse putting a flower in their hair
"Sherlock?" John chuckled, sitting still as the taller man reached over to slide a flower into his hair. "Feeling decorative?" He asked, pointing to the flower now adorning his hair, but not removing it. "Or experiment?"
John grinned, watching Sherlock kiss his hands as a small flush spread across his cheeks. More out of pleasure than embarrassment. “I’m glad.” He murmured, leaning into the kiss, and kissing him back with a noise of content. “So, love. Would you like to watch a movie with me?”
"I wouldn’t mind watching a movie with you." Sherlock murmured in return, smiling as he pressed his forehead against John’s. "Do you have something in mind that you’re looking forward to see?"