Postreichenbach Stories

Sequel to the Sociopath Society. At the end of the school year, Sherlock fell. Seemingly committed suicide. This story follows John and Sherlock as they both recover. As they follow their own paths, that seem to take them ever further apart. As they cope with life without each other. And as they, ultimately, move on and forget.

I don't know what to write in the description so just read the story and find out •_• 😊 THE MATURE CONTENT IS BECAUSE OF VIOLENCE AND LANGUAGE NOT BECAUSE THERE SUMT OR SOMETHING. I REAPET NO SUMT IN HERE SO SORRY PERVS😂 P.S props for the creator of the cover and I do NOT own any of the characters in this story they are property of "Sherlock bbc" and Sir Arthur Conan Doyle

Sherlock has been gone for two years, and John still hasn't moved on. He's scrawny and underweight, not to mention he has been depressed and needs his cane again. Sherlock has been gone for two years, and he hasn't moved on. He still think's of John all the time, and constantly beats himself up about the horrible things he did to his blogger. But this all ends when Sherlock gets a day off, and John decides to visit his grave. Sherlock learns that no matter how hard he tries, he can't live without John. And John learns that love can be found in unexpected places, be it in a high-functioning sociopath, or a fire-breathing dragon with a temper. Just me elaborating on an idea I had. This is NOT all my original idea, and credit to carpetsharks who posted the idea for this on Tumblr. I just became obsessed with the idea, and I have some GREAT plans for this. Also, BBC owns Sherlock and The Hobbit belongs to J.R.R Tolkien and whoever owns the movie(Sorry, I'm a lazy butt and can't find it.)

When John finds himself alone after Sherlock's death, nothing can save him from caving in on himself. Or will something change all that?

John writes letters to Sherlock after he died, but of course, Sherlock never writes back.

((Johnlock)) Sherlock's feelings are soon to be realized, but when Sherlock finds out how he feels towards John, will John feel the same way?

Suddenly he heard a gunshot. He froze. He wanted to move, but couldn't. The only thing running through his head was no, not again. Please be okay, Sherlock. Please be okay. Be okay. When he could move again he shouted with all his might: "SHEERLOOCK!" Then he sprinted towards where the gunshot came from. This is a Johnlock(Its not like they are together, but I just feel like they love each other more than they realize) one-shot I wrote. I hope you'll like it. Just so you are prepared I cried while writing it, maybe I'm just too emotional but now you know. Warning: Major character death.

John Watson wasn't the only one who lost someone the day Moriarty and Sherlock solved their final problem. Two years after the fall, Sebastian Moran's nightmares about what hapenned on St. Barts roof haven't stopped. All he wants is his boss to come back to him again. But it's only an impossible dream. Or not? Be careful what you wish for because one day, your dreams may come true. How will Sebastian react when everything he'd dream of comes true. The consulting criminal is back in his life and that can only mean two things. Everything's gonna be fine again, or Sebastian would see his life fall into pieces. What will his boss do if he discovers what the marksman feels for him? Will it ever be the same as before? Sebastian himself doesn't know.

[MORMOR (Moriarty X Moran) // ONE-SHOT] After Jim faked his death, Sebastian has found it hard to cope without his beloved consulting criminal. People say that memories are nice things to look back on, but is that the case for Sebastian? WARNING: Drugs and alcohol are mentioned briefly in this story. Read at your own risk if triggered by small mentions!

Sherlock returns to Baker Street six months after his fake suicide to find no one at the flat, and a letter addressed to him on the table from John. What happened to the blogger? Does Sherlock have more feelings for John than he lets on? Disclaimer-I do not own any of the characters, they belong to the BBC

Inspired by the song “Ride on” by Christy Moore …”I turn to face an empty space where you used to lie, and look for the spark that lights the night... Ride On,... I could never go with you no matter how I wanted to...”

Ever since The Fall of Sherlock Holmes, Jim Moriarty has been paying John Watson unwelcome visits. - ( Chapters jump through time. POV alternates. Warnings: Occasional explicit language; sexual references. ) -

"Do you just carry on talking when I'm away?" A post-Reichenbach BBC Sherlock story. First person present tense.

Starting from when John and Sherlock met to Reichenbach to series three. Enjoy!

SPOILER ALERT FOR SEASON 2 AND SOME OF SEASON 1 OF SHERLOCK The fall of Sherlock had crushed John's life, his best friend was, gone forever. After three years of Sherlock being dead, John was living a somewhat normal life, missing his friend everyday. One day a guest comes knocking. Molly is standing at the door, she has something very important to say...

I'm sick so what's the best time to write a fan fiction about Sherlock being ill! (Y/n) has helped Sherlock with his crimes since John left the flat to live with Mary. However, after chasing a criminal through the dark streets of London in the rain, Sherlock develops a cold.

In which a heart-broken John Watson writes letters to the deceased Sherlock Holmes. BEING REWRITTEN/REUPLOADED - PLEASE READ FIRST PART

The story is a one-shot set during 'The Sign of Three' ( Warning: contains some post- reichenbach feels ) Sherlock is feeling lonelier and lonelier as the wedding of John and Mary comes nearer. This story is his internal monologue or his though process as he composes the waltz.

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]