|Eleven years ago, you left London to live in the United States, leaving behind the great consulting detective: Sherlock Holmes, and his undeniably loyal friend and colleague: John Watson. Now, you had returned to London under dramatic circumstances you had foreseen in the past, but had long forgotten.|
Hey everybody! Here's the fourth chapter to the first Sherlock x Reader fic that I've written (and actually submitted) to deviantART! The next chapter will be out soon, as it has already been written. Have a wonderful day!
Ten Million Eternities Ch. 4 (Sherlock x Reader)Ten Million Eternities Ch. 4 (Sherlock x Reader) by redlipstick444
Nothing could have possibly prepared you for what you saw when you entered that room.
You suddenly felt faint, head spinning and ears ringing, as you wondered: How could John Watson have been so strong? You were the one well-known for being strong despite the circumstance (as was John, except for the fact that he tended to show more emotion then you ever had).
Sherlock, your Sherlock, looked practically tapered to his sterilized hospital bed. You made a few mental notes of all that seemed wrong with Sherlock's external appearance: pale skin, unresponsive (of course), skinny as ever, ill, and most of all, dead. You suddenly felt as if you weighed a million tons, and you feet could not move themselves to part from the floor. Sherlock's forehead was covered with sweat, and his once perfect (and actually, after a quick revision, still perfect) brown curls stuck to the sweat and plastered themselves to his forehead.
"Sher--" you allowed th
Ten Million Eternities Ch. 3 (Sherlock x Reader)Ten Million Eternities Ch. 3 (Sherlock x Reader) by redlipstick444
You arrived at Saint Bartholomew's Hospital at around 1:00 pm. Receiving Sherlock's room number (after providing identification, and falsely claiming to be his cousin-in-law after a short altercation with the receptionist), you were on your way.
Making your way to the fourth floor, the one Sherlock was residing in, you took a deep breath.
You'd see him soon. In critical condition, but soon.
Turning on the second corner to your left, seeing Sherlock's room number straightaway from a distance of about 100 meters, you saw a figure heading your way.
A figure who's face you hadn't seen in eleven years, nor had heard it's voice.
He spotted you about three seconds after you spotted him, his face breaking out in surprise and a huge, genuine smile, despite the current circumstances. "(Y/N)," he said, slowly walking towards you, arms outstretched. "Oh my God."
You let yourself grip onto John and fall into his comforting and welcoming embrace. "Oh my God." he repeated, his voice soft
Genuine SmileYeah, I'm different.Genuine Smile by redlipstick444
But what does that mean?
Is it unacceptable that I don't have flowing blonde hair and blue/green eyes that gleam?
Yeah, I know it matters.
To you, at least.
But could you at least consider people's feelings instead of attacking them as if you're at a feast?
Yeah, I know, I'm not conventionally pretty.
Nor conventionally beautiful, joyful, or witty.
But should that matter to me, am I subconsciously searching for pity?
I know you don't like me.
You're facial expressions when you look at me tell it all.
But could you at least take in consideration that I have feelings, and don't want to feel mauled?
I know you despise me.
Sometimes I don't understand why.
Then I look in the mirror and realize it,
But refuse to cry.
Because, hey, who are you to tell me that you won't accept me because I'm ugly?
I don't want OR need your acceptance or approval; I no longer feel uncomfortable when you look at me smugly.
Because, you know what? I'm better than that.
I'm not going to have
Mockingjay - Alt. Ending
I trail close behind a pair of old men who take no notice of me. No on will expect me to be with old men. When we reach the end of the next intersection, they stop and I almost bump into them. It's the City Circle. Across the wide expanse ringed by grand buildings sits the president's mansion.
The circle's full of people milling around, waiting, or just sitting and letting the snow pile up around them. I fit right in. I begin to weave my way across to the mansion, tripping over abandoned treasures and snow-frosted limbs.
Peacekeepers stand every twenty feet, forming a circle around the mansion. I walk around, looking for a way past them, but they have the building completely enclosed. A line of people are being checked by guards at the front entrance. Each person holds up some piece of identification, and is let past the Peacekeeper gate. I begin looking around for someone about my age and height, to grab their I.D., when someone puts their hand on my arm. Someone must have rec
My B-day is December 14|
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|I know that I've gotten off the habit of posting up artwork on the regular basis, and most of them are basic level, but the good thing is I am able to do a sort of 'more advanced' art that i sometimes display on other art websites. My REAL talent is writing. I've even had some of my poems published in books. |
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