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Intryck β What if...
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Published: 2012-04-13 14:57:49 +0000 UTC; Views: 5039; Favourites: 226; Downloads: 78
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What if he couldn't save him, or everything was reversed?Photoshop CS3
Wacom intuos4
BBC's Sherlock, portrayed by Benedict Cumberbatch. Photo reference used. Sherlock was created by sir Arthur Conan Doyle, and I do not own this character.
I'M SO SORRY.
It's okay to hate me for this piece.
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Comments: 70
I'm so sorry - did you have time to regenerate?
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Thankfully, But I'm still not ginger. :/
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Thank you for making me cry...Seriously though, this is beautifully intense.Β I love your music as well!
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Wow! Jus amazing!
So much emotion and so intense...
I love it!
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I'm very glad you do, thank you! <3
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wow, so very intense. I love it. No hate. Only love. Love for you, love for this piece. Fantastic.
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Thank you so much hun
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We all have are dark fantasies. I do think that if he lost Watson prematurely, Sherlock would be moved to tears. Maybe even lose some of that spark that makes him unique. Great art piece. Thanks so much for sharing.
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aaahhhh the feels! ouch. beautiful work though, well done!
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this is so beautiful...You coloring style is so soft ...You really brought the perfect amount of raw emotion to this piece...
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welcome. I quite adore all you work. have rebloged alot of your stuff on tumblr.
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That's lovely, thank you sweetie!
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welcome,dear "iconbeatingheartplz:
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no whhhhhhhhy! Oh gawd, the Reinchenbach Feeeeeeeels....they are back!!!
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Holy wow, this is amazing. His expression is so intense, oh my God. I'm floored by this picture.
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Thank you very very much!
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That look in his eyes is utterly powerful. Hits me right in the sternum.
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Mind if I write a fic on this and leave a link to here, and say that the BEAUTIFUL art is not mine but yours?
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Please do, I'd love to read it!
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I've done a bit, here it is:
The chase as always ran along the lines of case, crime scene, Baker street to think, run through London looking for 'who done it'. This time was different it was case, crime scene, Baker street to think, run round London -mainly warehouses - to find a gang 'who done it'. They'd killed the man because he was going to inform the police of the gang's class-A drug smuggling according to Sherlock.
Sherlock was in the rafters area, Lestrade en-route, John wondering amongst the cargo and the gang in different positions around the room; everyone was armed with various guns, flick knives and other harmful weapons. These men had no qualms about killing, in fact they intend to. As John had walked round a large, wooden crate a man grabbed him from behind and promptly rests a gun at the base of his head and wraps an arm round his throat.
" Not a word." The gangster hisses then shouts to the rafters "Mister Homes, I think we should make an agreement!". At which point Lestrade and Donovan walk in warily, guns up and loaded, they train their guns on the man holding John.
"Let him go and drop your weapon, this is the police!" Lestrade yells as Sherlock is pelting it down the stairs, the gangster looks panicked and tightens his hold on John at Lestrade's order.
"No! Listen to me, it wasn't my fault! They made me kill him, I had to!" the man screams at the police, pulling John back to get away from the police with uneasy shifting from foot to foot.
John's calm voice of reason inserts itself into the rabble. "Could you please calm down, let's talk."
The man holding John captive bursts into sobs, then a shot is fired from somewhere to the right, All -most on instinct or training- hit the floor, only three people get up.
Lestrade after dropping to floor returns fire, Donovan tries to check Sherlock who magnetises towards John faster than should be possible. "John!" Sherlock wished there was a way of surviving a bullet to the head, but there is no chance. There is no chance of life for John, Sally guesses correctly by the inhuman noises coming from Sherlock, noises that suggested Sherlock's heart and soul had been ripped out and was being torn in a thousand pieces. Sally never knew noises in her life, seeing morning members of families were part of her job, but this was something else entirely... She never knew Freak cared so much. Sherlock was clutching a limp and bloody John to his chest, wailing with grief so sharp Sally was frozen with sadness.
Until Anderson came barrelling in and stops when sees the tragic scene, he gets his radio and murmurs for an ambulance and the homicide team to come. Anderson walked over to Sherlock, crouched by him and reaches towards John to take him off Sherlock. To which Sherlock snarls, Sally thought Sherlock would be able to kill for boredom, he was certainly ready to kill anyone that was going to try and touch John. Without question.
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God, this is depressing⦠And really sweet. I like how you made Sally part of it! But oh god heartbreak.
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Glad you like it, I may write more, but don't count on it.
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Your artwork is truely very good <3
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Great, now I have to write a fanfic. See what this fandom makes me do?!?!
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Please do, I'd love to read it!
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His eyes. HIS EYES.
Omg, why would you draw such a MASTERPIECE AND MAKE ME CRY FOR DAYS.
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Sorry hun, and thank you
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Utterly beautiful - painfully so. Thank you for sharing your talent with us. Excuse me while I go find a corner to hide in now...need some whimper time...
sky
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Γ
h, du Γ€r sΓ₯ otroligt duktig pΓ₯ att mΓ₯la realistiskt
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