New canon for the first time in two years, and what I am I writing? Genre fiction.

I liked this bit, so have a sneak peek of this new omegaverse space opera AU (which may or may not be traumachu’s idea, I’m just saying I’m not saying).

A soft touch stroked down the back of his hand.  Sherlock’s fingers.  They dwarfed his own, so much bigger and longer and yet infinitely graceful; he watched them trace the tendons on the back of his hand.  When Sherlock saw he had John’s attention, he drew his hand back and caught John’s eyes.  “You asked me once how I live as I do,” he said, beautiful rich voice barely above a whisper.  “Is it worse than this?  You tear yourself into strips, bleed out slowly from lives that aren’t even yours.  How do you survive like this, John?  How do you expect to live through the war this way?”


John let out a shuddering breath.  “It’s not my survival I’m fighting for.”

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