Sherlock steals hearts.
anonymous
July 30 2011, 01:47:52 UTC
He practically doesn't have one of his own, so he steals them for a while then gives them back after a while so the person keeps living.
John gives him his heart after figuring it out. Sherlock, never having had someone give him one before, gives it back at night when he's sleeping only for John to give it back in the morning.
The thing about shared hearts is they keep growing bigger...
OP here: Re: Sherlock steals hearts.
anonymous
July 30 2011, 22:24:56 UTC
Was leaning towards HEA, but it could so many different ways... Both? Either? Multiple fills are welcome. Who am I to stanch a writer's creative leanings? (because OP totally can't make up their mind either)
OP will love you for any fill OP gets.
I can say I can see two different things that I don't think actually helps... one way, a heart replicates itself or resurrects itself with enough TLC, and another way, if a shared heart that hasn't divided into a set yet, if one of the sharers die or are heartbroken about something, it's a very very bad thing...
Re: OP here: Re: Sherlock steals hearts.
anonymous
July 30 2011, 22:30:15 UTC
AYRT
... Mycroft is that you?! Are you scanning my head with super-advanced-CCTV-x-ray-vision or something? Because those two different things you suggested were exactly what I had in mind for both the HEA and the angsty fill! XD
Alright, consider me a potential filler: this prompt is just too delicious to pass! I'll try to come up with something different from your two suggestions so that you get a surprise, hopefully I'll succeed... otherwise I'll pick one of the two ;)
fill: anywhere i go you go (1/3)
anonymous
August 1 2011, 10:15:37 UTC
i don't even know, this is weird. warnings for slight (consensual) vore at the end - though it might be more metaphorical than literal at this point, idk.
The first time Sherlock finds John's heart, it is two in the morning. It is on the kitchen table, abandoned as though John has left it there with his cuppa, left it there for a second while he went to fetch sugar for his tea, forgot it behind. John has gone to bed for three hours, creature of habits. Sherlock picks it up, cradles it in his hand: it is beating faintly, steadily, honestly.
He's careful with it that night. He keeps it very close, close enough to touch, but he never does touch it - John is sleeping upstairs without his heart in his chest, which is fantastic. But he never touches it; it's early. It's too early to touch, he decides, looking at the strange red thing, copper-brown and delicately beating, on the table next to his laptop
( ... )
fill: anywhere i go you go (2/3)
anonymous
August 1 2011, 10:20:11 UTC
Sherlock knows how hearts work. He has memorized the average heartbeat rhythm; he can dissect a human heart in thirty seconds flat, lay it bare and open for John to see. He won't, though. John likes his heart. It's a good heart, red and fist-like and clenched tight, pounding steadily. It loves well.
It makes its place in Sherlock's chest, purring loudly, very warm. Sherlock rubs his palm against it sometimes - it sits strangely there, too big and too hot for his body.
"You are completely bonkers," John tells him, affectionately. "You're a bloody fucking madman. You idiot," he says, his hand over the back of Sherlock's neck, very heavy and very warm. Sherlock, head bent over his microscope, stops breathing altogether.
"This is gorgeous," John says, meaning the chart, meaning the map, meaning the diagram Sherlock makes in red and black pen, all four chambers flung open wide, the atria firmly carved in, the ventricles delicate and rounded.
Sherlock closes his hand over the sharp, angular bones of John's left wrist, and thinks, Of
( ... )
fill: anywhere i go you go (3a/3)
anonymous
August 1 2011, 10:23:08 UTC
The days after Moriarty are long, swamped in the stark gold of summer. Sherlock draws all the blinds down and curls on the couch like a child, ignoring John's attempts at tea or talking or sharing back his heart - every time he looks at it inside John's chest, something warm and liquid happens in his own. John's alive, though a bit burnt around the edges, his right hand in a cast. Sherlock thinks he could live on this: on John's heart beating still, staggeringly
( ... )
fill: anywhere i go you go (3b/3)
anonymous
August 1 2011, 10:25:45 UTC
Sherlock squeezes his eyes shut for a second, tightens his hands like clamps on John's thighs. John's fingers skitter upwards, touch his cheekbones, his eyebrows, the slant of his nose. "I'm not going," John says. "Push me away all you want, I'm not leaving."
"I don't want you to leave," Sherlock says.
"Good." And because John is utterly mad - insane enough to live here - he takes a bite into his own heart and pushes it into Sherlock's mouth. Flicks his tongue in, cool and red and very very wet. Sherlock swallows him in completely.
They take their time, biting and sucking and sharing morsels, teeth catching onto the other's mouth, until they each have a half, red all the way down their throats and inside their ribcages. John sprawls atop him afterward; they let the red spread between their chests, pounding quietly, until Sherlock no longer is certain whose, between them, the heartbeat is.
.. damn character limits. hope it's more or less what you wanted, OP, and that the other anon gets you a much better and less raggedy fill. &
( ... )
Re: fill: anywhere i go you go (3b/3)ningen_demonaiAugust 1 2011, 11:28:19 UTC
... Now singing "detachable hea~art" to the tune of "detachable penis". No. Bad Nin's mind. Shut up.
It isn't manipulation if you always give it back. That's like the "it's not stealing, it's borrowing" line. No, Sherlock, it doesn't work that way. :|
"I fucking love you," Victor Trevor said ten days after they'd met ... See, I'd call that too fast, but John shot a man for Sherlock the day after he met him. Suddenly, my world view has shifted, oGod.
John said, "It's alright," and touched his cold nose to the warm side Sherlock's neck.Asdflkjh. ♥ I am such a sucker for small touches like that. Do not get me started. It will not end well for anyone (if it ever ends
( ... )
Re: fill: anywhere i go you go (3b/3)nejemAugust 1 2011, 13:12:48 UTC
Good god, this fill was so beautiful in its own fascinating and weird way! Really well written in my opinion, it's not raggedy at all anon!
Stunning, quite stunning, I found it oddly chilling yet fascinating that at the end they share the heart by eating it, it was... I had goosebumps all over, it was strangely fascinating!
John gives him his heart after figuring it out. Sherlock, never having had someone give him one before, gives it back at night when he's sleeping only for John to give it back in the morning.
The thing about shared hearts is they keep growing bigger...
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seconded!
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He's often inclined to borrow somebody's heart till tomorrow!"
I don't know what that accomplished, but now every time I listen to "See Emily Play", I'll think of Sherlock.
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OP will love you for any fill OP gets.
I can say I can see two different things that I don't think actually helps... one way, a heart replicates itself or resurrects itself with enough TLC, and another way, if a shared heart that hasn't divided into a set yet, if one of the sharers die or are heartbroken about something, it's a very very bad thing...
Reply
... Mycroft is that you?! Are you scanning my head with super-advanced-CCTV-x-ray-vision or something? Because those two different things you suggested were exactly what I had in mind for both the HEA and the angsty fill! XD
Alright, consider me a potential filler: this prompt is just too delicious to pass! I'll try to come up with something different from your two suggestions so that you get a surprise, hopefully I'll succeed... otherwise I'll pick one of the two ;)
Reply
I might spin something out of this tonight, OP.
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The first time Sherlock finds John's heart, it is two in the morning. It is on the kitchen table, abandoned as though John has left it there with his cuppa, left it there for a second while he went to fetch sugar for his tea, forgot it behind. John has gone to bed for three hours, creature of habits. Sherlock picks it up, cradles it in his hand: it is beating faintly, steadily, honestly.
He's careful with it that night. He keeps it very close, close enough to touch, but he never does touch it - John is sleeping upstairs without his heart in his chest, which is fantastic. But he never touches it; it's early. It's too early to touch, he decides, looking at the strange red thing, copper-brown and delicately beating, on the table next to his laptop ( ... )
Reply
It makes its place in Sherlock's chest, purring loudly, very warm. Sherlock rubs his palm against it sometimes - it sits strangely there, too big and too hot for his body.
"You are completely bonkers," John tells him, affectionately. "You're a bloody fucking madman. You idiot," he says, his hand over the back of Sherlock's neck, very heavy and very warm. Sherlock, head bent over his microscope, stops breathing altogether.
"This is gorgeous," John says, meaning the chart, meaning the map, meaning the diagram Sherlock makes in red and black pen, all four chambers flung open wide, the atria firmly carved in, the ventricles delicate and rounded.
Sherlock closes his hand over the sharp, angular bones of John's left wrist, and thinks, Of ( ... )
Reply
Reply
"I don't want you to leave," Sherlock says.
"Good." And because John is utterly mad - insane enough to live here - he takes a bite into his own heart and pushes it into Sherlock's mouth. Flicks his tongue in, cool and red and very very wet. Sherlock swallows him in completely.
They take their time, biting and sucking and sharing morsels, teeth catching onto the other's mouth, until they each have a half, red all the way down their throats and inside their ribcages. John sprawls atop him afterward; they let the red spread between their chests, pounding quietly, until Sherlock no longer is certain whose, between them, the heartbeat is.
..
damn character limits. hope it's more or less what you wanted, OP, and that the other anon gets you a much better and less raggedy fill. & ( ... )
Reply
It isn't manipulation if you always give it back.
That's like the "it's not stealing, it's borrowing" line. No, Sherlock, it doesn't work that way. :|
"I fucking love you," Victor Trevor said ten days after they'd met
... See, I'd call that too fast, but John shot a man for Sherlock the day after he met him. Suddenly, my world view has shifted, oGod.
John said, "It's alright," and touched his cold nose to the warm side Sherlock's neck.Asdflkjh. ♥ I am such a sucker for small touches like that. Do not get me started. It will not end well for anyone (if it ever ends ( ... )
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Stunning, quite stunning, I found it oddly chilling yet fascinating that at the end they share the heart by eating it, it was... I had goosebumps all over, it was strangely fascinating!
Loved it, absolutely! Great work! :D
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