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The worst part though was the way John had both his hands clamped firmly over his mouth, and had them that way for a while if the white bloodlessness of the appendages were anything to go by.

Warnings: Psychological trauma, kidnapping (pre-fic),

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Day turned to night, but John didn’t have any real sense of the time passing. Moriarty was at times angry and at other times gleeful. Occasionally both. He praised John for being a good, if uncooperative, subject as he ran his hands through Jorrun’s fur and yelled, slapping John in the face when John’s mind wandered. Asnneth was always there, just out of John’s peripheral vision, laughing. Always laughing.

Warnings: Capture, (daemon) separation, non-consensual daemon touching

Crossover: His Dark Materials/Golden Compass

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He doesn’t have a headache, but his head feels hollow, buzzing with an emptiness that indicates that he recently may have suffered from a very large one. Sherlock reaches out his hand, palm up, and waits.

Warnings: Memory deletion

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He gets so tired sometimes that it’s like being seasick. Everything rolls out under his feet in exhausted waves and god, his head - his stomach - he’s uncomfortably light like he’s half-full of helium, his legs are solid metal. He feels like a harlequin, or a patchwork, all cobbled together haphazardly from mismatched pieces and materials. He’s been put together all wrong. It’s all the effort in the world to pull himself out of bed and down the stairs.

Warnings: Eating Disorder

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When Sherlock first met John it was on the front door step of his shared, tiny house, in the rain. About two words into John’s explanation as to why he was huddling against the wall in an attempt to remain dry (“sorry, I think I’m staying here with my boyfriend, but I guess I’m a bit early and he has the key…”), and Sherlock couldn’t and didn’t particularly want to stop the surge of irritation as he unlocked the door and let the pair in. Just typical.

Warnings: Dub-Con tendencies, abuse, abusive relationship

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Sherlock’s world, at that moment, was quite small indeed: a small, white hospital room, a small bed, a small screen that held the rest of it.

Warnings: Violence, psychological triggers, character death.

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Ridiculous, but it was there nevertheless, and was in fact John’s only clear thought as conciousness drifted away like smoke on the wind.

Warnings: Rape/Non-con

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afrogeekgoddess:

Fugitive!Sherlock, post-Reichenbach, pre-return. A chronicle of his life on the run with his grief and guilt. Angst, loneliness, dark, disturbing moments.

Read on FF.net or AO3 (thanks for reading!).

Snippet:

There are days After when he can’t remember his own name. He has been so, so…

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(Source: isabloo, via tavalouris)

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