Holmes •S.H•

Reads 4,388
Votes 168
Parts 25
Time 2h 0m

Reads 4,388
Votes 168
Parts 25
Time 2h 0m

Querencia 
(n.) a place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self.All Rights Reserved

holmes john sherlock watson

25 parts

#551watson

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Unbelieving (A Johnlock Fanfiction) by TheSherlockedOne

Simply exhausted of all colour. Wasted. I didn't lie down. I didn't blink. I just sat there, staring into nothingness, waiting for something to materialise into my vision. Something. Anything. I had kept Sherlock away. Kept him away from his death, for so long. So long. Little did I know, all he needed was a little jump from a rooftop. It wouldn't take me long either, would it? I wasn't going to die. I needed relief. I needed disconnection. Disorientation. Oblivion. Ignorance. Because ignorance is bliss. It was in my hand, now. Like vengeance disguised in forgiveness. Breathe. Steady. Hold. Control. . . . Now. Pain shot through my arms and my palms, like my nails were being pulled out. It spread like fire, like ice cold fire, still burning like coals. My limbs were numb. I fell onto the bed, my mouth pressed into the sheet at an odd angle. I was too fatigued to change it. Too drowned to change it. Drowned too deep. To change anything. I'd never done this. Was I going to die? It'd be better if I died. What would that feel like? Flying? Better that this I suppose. Don't you think, Sherlock? [TW: IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH PTSD SCHIZOPHRENIA DEPRESSION ANXIETY PANIC DISORDERS DRUGS OR ARE TRIGGERED BY ANYTHING ELSE PLEASE PROCEED WITH DISCRETION. GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF NEAR- SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND VIOLENCE AND ZERO CLOSURE LIKE LITERALLY NO CLOSURE]

In Spanish, the verb querer means to 'desire'. Querencia describes a place where one feels safe, a place from which one's strength of character is drawn, a place where one feels at home. Cover made by myself but credit to the owner of the picture. Copyright © 2017

Lines and Numbers (Johnlock) by FinnTheCrab

Like super big trigger warning, for self harm and eating disorders. Don't be mad at me if I get something wrong, I'm not that smart.

Aureole (Discontinued) by Morro_the_Cursed

(n.) A radiance encircling the head or body, as in religious paintings. Book 2 of the Querencia Series Lloyd Garmadon x Male Reader Art Credit: @Xync_zachrome on Twitter

Staying Alive - Sherlock (BBC) by BoredHuman

Only four people know of the true state Sherlock Holmes was in just before he met John Watson. The darkness, the drugs, the voices, her. You could argue that her death triggered it. Now that John has left Sherlock to live with his wife it is inevitable that Sherlock will go back to how he was. Until somebody knocks on his door. He wasn't the only one to fake his death. (Set in between TSoT and HLV)

Tale As Old As Time (JohnLock) by sini333

Sherlock is the smartest, most beautiful man in town. Everyone thinks he is strange, everyone except Moriarty. One day, after an accident, Sherlock finds himself in a magical castle with a bitter, confused beast, a talking candelabra, a grumpy mantle clock, and a sweet teapot. Life suddenly isn't so boring for the genius.

John struggles with his war PTSD to this day, barely managing to make it through each passing day. But this is all made 10x worse as he's manipulated and assaulted by an old 'friend'.

| | | peregrination : travel or wander from place to place. | | |

Querencia (Rewrite)(Discontinued) by Morro_the_Cursed

(n.) A place from which one's strength is drawn, where one feels at home; the place where you are your most authentic self. Cover Art: SeiichiBakugo (from Quotev) Lloyd Garmadon x Male Reader Insert x ?????? (read to find out)

The Man Next Door (being rewritten) by totallytexas

There's this man next door who fascinates me. He can know your whole life story by looking at you. He is a high functioning sociopath who loves a good murder. His name is Sherlock Holmes. He is one of the most soulless, judgmental, insensitive people I've ever met.... But I love him.

Unbelieving (A Johnlock Fanfiction)

Simply exhausted of all colour. Wasted. I didn't lie down. I didn't blink. I just sat there, staring into nothingness, waiting for something to materialise into my vision. Something. Anything. I had kept Sherlock away. Kept him away from his death, for so long. So long. Little did I know, all he needed was a little jump from a rooftop. It wouldn't take me long either, would it? I wasn't going to die. I needed relief. I needed disconnection. Disorientation. Oblivion. Ignorance. Because ignorance is bliss. It was in my hand, now. Like vengeance disguised in forgiveness. Breathe. Steady. Hold. Control. . . . Now. Pain shot through my arms and my palms, like my nails were being pulled out. It spread like fire, like ice cold fire, still burning like coals. My limbs were numb. I fell onto the bed, my mouth pressed into the sheet at an odd angle. I was too fatigued to change it. Too drowned to change it. Drowned too deep. To change anything. I'd never done this. Was I going to die? It'd be better if I died. What would that feel like? Flying? Better that this I suppose. Don't you think, Sherlock? [TW: IF YOU ARE STRUGGLING WITH PTSD SCHIZOPHRENIA DEPRESSION ANXIETY PANIC DISORDERS DRUGS OR ARE TRIGGERED BY ANYTHING ELSE PLEASE PROCEED WITH DISCRETION. GRAPHIC DESCRIPTIONS OF NEAR- SUICIDAL THOUGHTS AND VIOLENCE AND ZERO CLOSURE LIKE LITERALLY NO CLOSURE]

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