His Loyal Blogger
My Heart in a Dream || (Balletlock AU) || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"I know. That’s why everyone comes out here." He says with a nod towards all of the cigarette butts in the potted plant beside him.

John taps some ash on the railing.

He looks up at Sherlock, frowning curiously at the man, “Afghanistan. I guess the ‘Captain’ and the uniform made it obvious, huh?”

Sherlock shrugged. “Probably.” He stood beside him with enough distance. “Painfully obvious. Although even if Mike didn’t tell me, I’d known you’ve just came back from Afghanistan. And you’re therapist which is also obvious considering what happened to you.”

He didn’t need to go into further details about that as he knew John would pick up what he meant.

"Well aren’t you a clever bloke." John murmurs, shifting over in his spot. He offers Sherlock a cigarette.

"If you weren’t a brilliant dancer, I’m sure you’d have a knack for detective work."

16% (via) (source)
Promises on Paper (Uni!lock) || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"I’m serious, Sherlock. Don’t feel obligated to tell me. It’s alright." He murmurs into the pillow. 

"I may be curious, but I’ll get over it. If it makes you uncomfortable to talk about it, then we can talk about something else."

"No. I—" Sherlock let out a sigh, before resting his head against John’s scarred back. He pressed his lips on John’s back before sitting up again, continuing what he started. "I want to. Because I trust you. And I want to…move on…from it."

John is quiet for a moment, reveling in the fact that Sherlock trusts him enough. That Sherlock is letting him into his intimate life like this.

"As you wish. Just know you can stop at any time…. and… thank you for trusting me in this way."

442% (via) (source)
Across Life and Death || Winglock || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

John has fallen to his good knee now. Not intentionally, but he makes it look intentional.

His bad leg feels like it’s on fire and he knows Meredith is right. It’s scheduled to go and he needs it gone so he can walk properly again.

"I’m fine, you’re such a worry-wort. Hush and let me work." He’s feeling along Sherlock’s wings, making sure there are no fractures. 

Thank goodness for the fire.

"I’ll be even more fine when I make sure you aren’t going to catch pneumonia."

"I’m an angel, John. It’s my duty to protect you—" Sherlock coughed slightly and began to talk again when he recovered. His gaze went to his legs. "You’re in pain." He stated, hand stretching out for him.

The touch John does on his wings made him sigh although something sparks from it. He couldn’t determine what as he was feeling tired from all the flying, sleeping and strained wing.

"You need to dry yourself too." He said as he decided to close his eyes for a moment, exhaustion finally taking toll on him.

"Shut up and go to sleep. Let me work." He murmurs, eyes focused on checking Sherlock all over to make sure the man isn’t injured.

Taking some towels from Mrs. Hudson, he dries the man off, working at Sherlock’s hair first.

From there, with Mrs. Hudson’s help, he gets Sherlock undressed and in drier clothes.

Then, John gently dries Sherlock’s wings, being incredibly careful.

92% (via) (source)
Waking Up || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"I’m alright." He whispers back to Sherlock. "I feel…. good."

John returns to speaking English in Sherlock’s head, only wanting to speak aloud in truly special moments.

Did you sleep alright? I didn’t keep you awake did I?

His hand cusps Sherlock’s cheek, thumb running over the others’ cheek. John couldn’t be more blissful…. well he could. But he’s willing to take what he can.

Hearing John’s voice brought a warm smile on his lips as he rested his head on he man’s neck. "It’s good to know you do." It’s nice to hear your voice too. Very nice. 

And the fact that he spoke to him close enough, made it feel even more special.

He nodded at his question. No you didn’t wake me. The lullaby was good. I’ve rested well enough far longer than I usually have. He tends to be awake for days, as sleep brings unnecessary memories and nightmares. He does sleep though, but most of the time, it’s only three to four hours.

He looked at John as he felt the man’s hand touched his cheek, he felt himself leaning at the touch, enjoying the peace and calmness he had with him in their own private place inside their own dream world.

I love you.

John seems to glow at those words.

Leaning closer, John locks his lips with Sherlock’s, as if sealing a contract. His hands shift to tangle in the man’s hair.

Waves upon waves of love, happiness, and bliss roll off of John to wash over Sherlock.

I love you.

hisloyalbloggerjw
‘Angst please.’ MEME

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

shallnotdisappoint:

(Trigger Warning) Your muse finds my muse in the shower, shaking and bleeding after being raped. (Trigger Warning)

The rustling of water continues an yet Sherlock lay on the ground, with his curls covering his eyes. Blood due to the forced intrusion being washed away as the water continued to pour.

His shirt was the only clothing that remained which was now soaking wet as he was left behind by his assailant. His trousers and pants has been discarded and long forgotten, also soaking wet due to the water coming from the shower. He had no strength, as if everything including that had taken away from him. He never realized anyone would go so low such as this.

Deep pain was screaming on his chest, wanting to come out and cry but everything remained silent from the cubicle he occupied. The only thing one would hear was the sound of water, hitting his clothes, hitting him.

His eyes remained blank, but his mind tortured him as the memory of what just happened played inside his head. The sudden attack causing his head to ring as he hit his head against the wall, unable to make any struggle, the blindfold, the hands on his body on him…

The grip on his arms tightened making his knuckles white as he tried to brush it off. He should be moving… but he doesn’t have the strength to get up or even to move away. In fact, all he wanted to happen right now was to stay there in the shower, with the water washing off the filthiness he just experienced…the memories…everything.

He wanted to wash everything away.

If only…

If only John didn’t see him as he drew the curtain open, his face showed surprise and that’s the time the emotions on his eyes appeared so suddenly.

"Out. Get OUT.

If only John didn’t see him…

Then maybe everything can be possibly forgotten.

John is disappointed to not find anything on what happened to Sherlock. Maybe they actually are letting the man keep his dignity.

But that’s not how the students at this school works.

He’ll have to ruffle some feathers to get answers.

But later. Right now, he’s been away too long and needs to get back to Sherlock.

He stops at Angelo’s first so that they have dinner.

~
John unlocks their door and slips inside quietly, setting the bag of food down onto his desk.

He sees Sherlock sleeping in his bed with his jumper.

John decides not to bother him and instead puts the blankets over the man to keep him comfortable.

Sitting down on the floor near the bed, John starts working on coursework. 

He isn’t going to eat until Sherlock does.

An envelope was slipped under their doorstep, it was intended for John. Inside it was a photo of Sherlock in the shower, being violated with the man. Yet, the face remained hidden as the torso down to his waist was the only parts seen on the photo and Sherlock in a blindfold and in pain.

At back were the words printed out using a computer to avoid detection.

     Looking forward in playing with you, sir White Knight. - the Hatter

* * * 

The sun was already beginning to set when Sherlock stirred from his sleep. The monsters were at bay, thanks to John’s jumper.

As he open his eyes, in his blurry vision, he saw a figure sitting on the floor. His heart raced in panic as he jerked awake, though finally starting to calm down when his vision began to focus.

"John." He ran a hand through his hair while the other still holding onto John’s jumper, the blanket resting on his shoulders. Finally he realized who’s bed he’s in. "I apologize, I’ve never noticed the time. Have you been on the floor for a long time?"

John stares at the picture, memorizing the torso and waist. He’s gritting his teeth. 

Feeling Sherlock start to stir, he tears up the photo and and shoves it into his bag. He’s trembling with rage as he shoves his emotions down just like the photo.

At the hand in his hair, he relaxes, the tremors leaving.

"It hasn’t been that long. You’re fine. Feel free to sleep there if you want."

He continues to work out of his book just as how he was doing before the envelope arrived. “I have some work I need to get done tonight, anyway.”

He’s hatching a plan, it slowly developing. John’s been with Sherlock long enough to think like the man. To be clever.

87% (via) (source)
My Heart in a Dream || (Balletlock AU) || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

"Colleagues." Mike replied. "He and I both interned at Bart’s before he went to the desert."

~

John sits out on the fire escape, having a smoke as he tries to ignore the throbbing in his shoulder. It’s mostly healed but the muscle is still partially torn.

But Mike doesn’t need to know that.

To be honest, he shouldn’t even be working this job. He’s still supposed to be on bed rest. But alas, the uselessness that is consuming him forced him into getting back into the game.

"You need to adjust to civilian life." Says his therapist, "Find a job suitable to your tastes. It says here you used to run a dance troupe?"

He shakes his head to shift the thoughts away. 

God awful woman.

Telling him how he should feel but not really helping him understand what he needs to do to feel better.

John inhales the nicotine, flexing his fist.

He zips his jacket up tighter.

It’s far too cold here.

It stinks too.

There’s none of that dry heat and sand smell from when he wasn’t here.

John’s still trying to sort out if he likes being back here or not.

Sherlock found John after searching for minutes. It was the smell of smoke that led him to the fire escape, watching him quietly, noting his observations to himself.

There was something he seemed to be familiar though. But he was certain that he haven’t met the man before…was he?

"Smoking’s not allowed in here, actually." He finally spoke. "Also, Afghanistan or Iraq?"

"I know. That’s why everyone comes out here." He says with a nod towards all of the cigarette butts in the potted plant beside him.

John taps some ash on the railing.

He looks up at Sherlock, frowning curiously at the man, “Afghanistan. I guess the ‘Captain’ and the uniform made it obvious, huh?”

16% (via) (source)
Promises on Paper (Uni!lock) || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

John’s curiosity peaks at this, finding Sherlock’s tone of voice to be… sad? Wistful?

He frowns but is silent for a moment.

Then he says softly, “You don’t have to talk about them if you don’t want to. it’s alright.”

"It’s…fine." Sherlock’s hands remained on John’s back, focusing on his task at hand in order for him to control the flow of unwanted memories. "Don’t you want to know why I was initially resentful with the idea of you staying here and be my roommate?"

He stopped for a moment, pouring a small amount of menthol before continuing to massage John’s back. “It’s because I don’t want you ending up the same fate as he did.”

"I’m serious, Sherlock. Don’t feel obligated to tell me. It’s alright." He murmurs into the pillow. 

"I may be curious, but I’ll get over it. If it makes you uncomfortable to talk about it, then we can talk about something else."

442% (via) (source)
Across Life and Death || Winglock || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

John staggers when they land, but automatically switches to Medic mode as he takes Sherlock’s wait onto himself.

Careful now…” He murmurs as Sherlock calls to Mrs. Hudson.

John is careful not to touch Sherlock’s wings. He uses his jacket to protect Sherlock from the rainfall.

Mrs. Hudson hurries to let them in, mother henning over them immediately.

John shivers, soaking wet, but does not let Sherlock stand on his own.

He continues to keep him close until he can find a chair for Sherlock.

Mrs. Hudson leads them upstairs to a flat that she’s kept locked up with a very special key. “Set him over here darling. Oh my…Sherlock, look at the mess you’ve made. I’ll go fetch you some towels and tea.”

John gives her thanks before checking over Sherlock’s wings with light touches. 

Sherlock finally sighed when he reached Mrs. Hudson’s flat upstairs with the warmth slowly covering their cold drenched bodies.

He was grateful of the man being close. “Are you well? You’re not hurt, are you?”

The angel watched quietly as Mrs. Hudson comes and goes, preparing something for the two of them. “You’ll be safe here with Mrs. Hudson.”

John has fallen to his good knee now. Not intentionally, but he makes it look intentional.

His bad leg feels like it’s on fire and he knows Meredith is right. It’s scheduled to go and he needs it gone so he can walk properly again.

"I’m fine, you’re such a worry-wort. Hush and let me work." He’s feeling along Sherlock’s wings, making sure there are no fractures. 

Thank goodness for the fire.

"I’ll be even more fine when I make sure you aren’t going to catch pneumonia."

92% (via) (source)
Waking Up || hisloyalbloggerjw

shallnotdisappoint:

Warmth wrapped around Sherlock like a blanket, making him feel comfortable and loved as John sang a lullaby. He moved close, absently humming as he held the man close, allowing him to sleep longer.

When he opened his eyes, he looked well-rested and calm. "Hello. Good morning, John." He caressed his cheek a he stared into the man’s eyes, watching that faint golden glow coming from them. "It’s you, wasn’t it? Singing…" He spoke in Gaelic though with pauses. It was the very first language he heard from John before when he was in the tube when he was dreaming. It’s been a while since he heard it.

"Your eyes are glowing. Are you alright? Have you slept well?"

"I’m alright." He whispers back to Sherlock. "I feel…. good."

John returns to speaking English in Sherlock’s head, only wanting to speak aloud in truly special moments.

Did you sleep alright? I didn’t keep you awake did I?

His hand cusps Sherlock’s cheek, thumb running over the others’ cheek. John couldn’t be more blissful…. well he could. But he’s willing to take what he can.

249% (via) (source) filed as: +BOIFRENDS
hisloyalbloggerjw
‘Angst please.’ MEME

shallnotdisappoint:

hisloyalbloggerjw:

shallnotdisappoint:

(Trigger Warning) Your muse finds my muse in the shower, shaking and bleeding after being raped. (Trigger Warning)

The rustling of water continues an yet Sherlock lay on the ground, with his curls covering his eyes. Blood due to the forced intrusion being washed away as the water continued to pour.

His shirt was the only clothing that remained which was now soaking wet as he was left behind by his assailant. His trousers and pants has been discarded and long forgotten, also soaking wet due to the water coming from the shower. He had no strength, as if everything including that had taken away from him. He never realized anyone would go so low such as this.

Deep pain was screaming on his chest, wanting to come out and cry but everything remained silent from the cubicle he occupied. The only thing one would hear was the sound of water, hitting his clothes, hitting him.

His eyes remained blank, but his mind tortured him as the memory of what just happened played inside his head. The sudden attack causing his head to ring as he hit his head against the wall, unable to make any struggle, the blindfold, the hands on his body on him…

The grip on his arms tightened making his knuckles white as he tried to brush it off. He should be moving… but he doesn’t have the strength to get up or even to move away. In fact, all he wanted to happen right now was to stay there in the shower, with the water washing off the filthiness he just experienced…the memories…everything.

He wanted to wash everything away.

If only…

If only John didn’t see him as he drew the curtain open, his face showed surprise and that’s the time the emotions on his eyes appeared so suddenly.

"Out. Get OUT.

If only John didn’t see him…

Then maybe everything can be possibly forgotten.

John goes to the class rooms that he needs to to pick up work for both him and Sherlock.

At the same time, however, John is listening.

He’s listening for rumors. For a cocky voice bragging about what he did to “The Freak”.

John doesn’t care if he gets expelled for killing a student. 

Sherlock is most definitely worth it.

He tossed and turned, trying to sleep, trying to shut his mnd about the increasing noises in his head. The groan, the indecent murmur, the low voice and the laugh. It caused Sherlock to jerk up in his bed, eyes wide looking and frightened as he struggled to calm himself down.

John wasn’t there and he couldn’t just text his roommate right now about such thing. He knew the possibility of John running back and staying beside him.

He wanted to take a bath, to wash himself over and over again. But as he stood at the door, he froze. It was getting louder and louder.

He cursed himself. He shouldn’t be like this. He shouldn’t allow the monsters in his head inhabit him. But he couldn’t walk towards the door. He was scared to see what’s on the other side.

Instead, he headed to another direction: to John’s bed. His hand searched for his duffel, for any of his roommates clothes

After minutes of searching, he found one of John’s jumpers. He held it close, inhaling that calming scent of sandalwood and cotton. Slowly, he was starting to breathe calmly, before lying on John’s bed.

He drifted to sleep with him embracing John’s jumper.

***

The campus was eerily quiet about what happened to Sherlock. No rumours… nothing. It was as it what happened to Sherlock didn’t exist.

Or maybe, it’s a bomb… slowly ticking until it sets off in the university. A plan to make Sherlock crumble and burn into pieces.

John is disappointed to not find anything on what happened to Sherlock. Maybe they actually are letting the man keep his dignity.

But that’s not how the students at this school works.

He’ll have to ruffle some feathers to get answers.

But later. Right now, he’s been away too long and needs to get back to Sherlock.

He stops at Angelo’s first so that they have dinner.

~
John unlocks their door and slips inside quietly, setting the bag of food down onto his desk.

He sees Sherlock sleeping in his bed with his jumper.

John decides not to bother him and instead puts the blankets over the man to keep him comfortable.

Sitting down on the floor near the bed, John starts working on coursework. 

He isn’t going to eat until Sherlock does.

87% (via) (source)
theme by kilmorecove
1 2 3 4 5
x
John Watson. No longer Doctor. I'm a one legged Tin Soldier.

{John Watson Indie RP Blog Au}


{I AM NOT A SPAM BLOG.}