hello peoples of livejournal ( Read more... )

It was a simple fact Sherlock was needed more often than John. John didn't really mind, as long as he didn't have to have Sherlock spew dust in his face.

Their owner was often busy and used Sherlock to dust up his broken cups and cat hair and sweep it right underneath the kitchen cabinets. Sherlock did mind this. Being swooped belly-down through a ( Read more... )

When John Watson died, Sherlock Holmes became quiet for a while. Mourning, they called it, yet it only lasted a few hours. Sherlock was retired by the time he took off his wedding ring. The body of John Watson had grown cold and Sherlock stared. Then blinked. Then sat up and placed his wedding ring in his their bedside-drawer.

He took a few minutes ( Read more... )

John Watson has not used drugs since his college days and does not particularly take pride in this, per se. Let's just say he doesn't particularly think it a feat to be celebrated.

He has been travelling alongside Mike Stamford, his guide, yet seems to have temporarily lost him. And John Watson, for one, is thirsty as fuck. He has been fruitlessly ( Read more... )

John has a box. A nice one. All lacquered wood and shining copper. He’d say it’s his most cherished posession, if not for what is in it.

Sherlock doesn’t know about it. John thought he did, for a few very scary seconds, but as soon as he woke up stark naked next to a sticky and stinky flatmate, he dismissed the notion for what it was and went back ( Read more... )

When Sherlock is born, he looks at the tall leaves of his father first. Then at his own, and thinks he's really not that impressive. His stem is thin and his crown withered and he frowns, yet does as he's told and listens to his mummy telling him he'll grow up to be strong one day, like his father and brother.

When Sherlock is a bit taller and his ( Read more... )

Sherlock wishes he had eyelids, yet all his makers gave him were buttons.

He would also like joints, yet all he has is twigs.

Sherlock would like a heart, perhaps feelings, but he’s stuck with nothing but snow.

He can recall the children running past, but not what happened before that. Nor what happened after, for that matter.

All he knows is ( Read more... )

John didn’t think badly of himself, nor particularly well. He always figured he was just there.  After all, being made of plastic, what more could a bottle of water do than stand and look pretty?

John distinctly remembers being bought. A pound fifty, they’d paid for him, and John tried his best to not be offended. After all, his skin did tell the ( Read more... )

  Above Zero

John remembers his birth as if it were yesterday (which, coincidentally, it was).
He may not remember the time when he was still nothing but water, but he remembers waking up stone cold, in a dark room, stuck in between two layers and a set of toes.

He does not remember his mum, nor does he remember his dad, but he was certain they ( Read more... )

Pebbles

Sherlock swims in his tiny bowl and thinks, what if he was to jump out right now? After a few seconds, he's forgotten this. Then, he thinks, perhaps that godforsaken castle could fuck off so he'd have a bit more thinking space.

Sherlock knows his mind is small, yet larger than most of his species. He knows his scales shine a bit brighter than ( Read more... )