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#bbc sherlock – @jezunya on Tumblr
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quixotic chaotic

@jezunya / jezunya.tumblr.com

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"Ssshut up," Crowley hisses, not bothering to unslump himself from the tabletop. "You're in love with a human, you don't get an opinion."
"Better a human than a loyalist," Sherlock sniffs, and that gets Crowley to jerk his head up.
"Oi! He's not— I mean, he wasn't—"
"He was, then he wasn't, then he was again," Sherlock singsongs, before turning serious. "Once a good little loyal subject of Heaven, always one. Face it, the very fact that he hasn't Fallen means that he will always go back to them."
Crowley cradles his head in his hands, feeling far too drunk for this, or perhaps not nearly drunk enough. "That's not… He wasn't…"

A little tidbit of a scene from a much, much larger AU that I'm honestly not sure will ever get written in earnest, but that has been a project @sheliesshattered and I have circled back to many times over the years

This is post s2 of Good Omens and… somewhere in the BBC Sherlock timeline, probably post s2 but s3 & s4 don't really work with this au. Set in the universe of Tim Powers' novel Declare, though I'm hoping to write this such that you don't have to have read the book (but it certainly helps). Sherlock (and Mycroft, and others) are another form of Fallen Angel who have remained earthbound rather than ever joining Hell, and Sherlock & Crowley are ofc frenemy drinking buddies

More under the cut

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Sherlock ficlet

There is a tune he hums to himself, when the sun is coming up and he has survived another night. He doesn't remember composing it, but his fingers of their own accord mime their placement on the strings of a violin that sits thousands of miles away in a flat on a street that speaks of bread and warmth and home.

He wonders if John ever touches the violin, if he ever brushes the dust away and lets his fingertips trace the taught catsgut, out of tune by now, neglected. It is just the sort of sentimental thing he imagines John doing and it sends a shiver down his spine and something curling in his stomach that he might identify as hope or longing if he had not forgotten how to name such feelings.

He hums and watches the sun rise, and then he shakes himself and gets back to work and only lets himself think once that he is one day closer to back to John.

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I just had a thought of a fanwork I would love to see done up by anyone more artistically inclined than myself: John dozing off in the back seat of a taxi against Sherlock's shoulder. I don't care much what Sherlock's reaction is, I just want John to be in full unconscious, possibly snuggling, languid lethargy. Please please please? o3o

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reblogged
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valeria2067

“Shall I play you another, John? Something more lively?”

“No.”

“No? And why not?”

“Because you’re not real, are you?”

“Ah. No, I’m not.”

“And I’m only dreaming.”

“Yes, John.”

“Then play something slow and soft, all right?”

“Of course.”

“Because I don’t want to wake up. Ever, if I can help it.”

“I’m so sorry, John.”

“I know, Sherlock. I know. Just… just play the damn song, okay?”

DAMMIT, VALERIA

Just kill me now, shove that knife in a little deeper and give it a good twist why don’t you?

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jezunya

my heart. it hurts. ;_;

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