AN: This is loosely based off of The Final Problem and is Sherlock x Reader. There is violence and death, so consider yourself warned. I hope you enjoy and as always feedback is appreciated.
Emotional Context. Sherlock had once been able to deny its importance, instead, governing himself with logic and reasoning. However, his connections with his friends and the people who cared about him had started to change his mind on such matters. This came with both benefits and negatives as it had opened him up to new vulnerabilities and pain, especially now. As it was during this time that he discovered that his sister was more than just a suspicion. In fact, Eurus was a secret that scared his dear brother Mycroft more than anything else.
Sherlock struggled to retrieve any memory of her. That was at least until the name “Redbeard” was brought up. He had loved Redbeard his faithful dog and childhood best friend. He couldn’t remember what had happened to him, at least not until Mycroft filled in the gaps. Since that discovery, he, his brother, and John had left to check in on Eurus’ security. Sherlock and John wanted to prove that she had left multiple times once impersonating as a girl that Sherlock met during a case, and once as John’s new therapist. Mycroft was insistent that this was impossible, so they went to settle the matter once and for all. What they were not expecting was for it all the be a trap.
They were soon captured and forced to complete trials that tested personal morality and will power all centered around Sherlock. It seems that Eurus was fascinated by her brother and wanted to better understand him. It didn’t help that she had previously formed an alliance with Moriarty and knew more about Sherlock than he did her. But that was all Mycroft’s fault now wasn’t it? The first challenge forced Sherlock to choose either John or Mycroft to shoot an innocent man in order to save his wife. Both inevitably refused and the man in a last-ditch effort took his own life in front of them. Eurus didn’t hesitate to kill the wife, questioning the three whether or not keeping their hands clean costing two lives was any better than taking one life and leaving one to survive. She then ordered Sherlock to collect the gun, which now only had one bullet, and continue.
The next trial was equally grim. Sherlock was forced to deduce which of three brothers was a murderer provided only the gun and three pictures. To add to the suspense, she presented the three brothers hanging over the ocean tied up with weights. If they dropped they would inescapably be drowned. Sherlock made the correct deduction much to everyone’s relief, but Eurus dropped all three explaining that the life of an innocent weighs no less than the life of the guilty.
The third trial was where it got personal. There was a small wooden coffin. It was nothing special about it. Sherlock quickly deduced that it was built for a woman, one with no close family, one who was sensible, one that- he was interrupted when Mycroft brought over the lid which had a mere two words on it, “Words unsaid”.
“Whatever does that mean?” John asked.
But deep down Sherlock knew and he feared what was about to happen next.
“It’s Y/n,” he replied.
“Y/n? What does she have to do with this?”
“Why quite a lot Mr. Watson, and very good Sherlock. Now then, this ought to be fun. In a moment, I am going to give her a ring. She’s alone in her apartment which is hooked up with explosions. Now then brother, you will have two minutes to get her to say the magic words. The catch? You can’t say them yourself, you can’t give her any indication that you or she is in danger. Just play your mind games like you used to,” Eurus grinned.
“What are the magic words?” Mycroft asked.
Sherlock’s face fell into a pained expression as he considered the task at hand.
“He has to get her to tell him that she loves him,” John realized.
“Yay! Now that everyone is on the same page, let’s give her a ring.” Eurus cheered, “Oh and for added fun,” she clicked on the tv showing video of you in your flat.
Sherlock studied the video feed, you looked horrible, something had clearly upset you. He could tell that you had recently been crying. As the phone rang he prayed that you would answer it. The clock seemed to loom over him as it continued to click down. He watched as you slowly retrieved yours and glanced down at the name answering it almost immediately.
1:40
“Sherlock?”
“Ah, Y/n, I-” he started.
“I ought to kill you for giving me such a scare. Baker street exploded it’s all over the news and I’ve been trying to get ahold of you ever since. Are you okay? Is John okay? What happened?”
“We’re fine, just a little accident,” Sherlock replied calmly.
“I thought you were dead, the least you could have done was sent me a text” she whimpered.
“Oh come on now, you know I’m more clever than that, besides I’ve been busy, you know how it is” he mused.
1:20
“Y/n, do you remember the phone call we had just before Reichenbach, right as Moriarty had begun his master plan?” he asked feeling rushed.
“Of course I do, I still have nightmares from that call,”
“Well, I need you to tell me what you said that day,”
“There’s no way in hell,” you replied. Sherlock was able to see how much this upset you and clenched his eyes shut feeling the pressure.
“Please Y/n, I really need to hear it,” he begged softly.
0:60
“Sherlock, is everything alright?” you asked concerned at his unprecedented demeanor.
Eurus warned her brother to remember the rules.
“Everything is fine, I just need to hear you say it,”
“Why? This better not be one of your experiments,”
“It’s not, I promise. I wouldn’t do that, not to you,”
“I don’t get the big deal,”
“Please Y/n,”
0:30
“I-I can’t”
“Why not?”
“Because you didn’t say it back,”
0:25
“If you meant it then, if there is any chance that you mean it now, please say it again,” he begged.
“Sherlock,” you pleaded
“Please Y/n, please tell me what you said that day on the phone, our last call together before the fall,” he said with such sincerity and emotion.
0:18
“You called me to tell me that everything had been a lie, that Moriarty was right. You told me that you only had one choice left. I begged you to stop, to wait until I could get to you, that together the two of us would figure something out. But you said it was too late,” you recalled tears streaming down your face.
“And then…” he prompted.
0:12
“And then I pleaded with you not to do it,”
“Why? What was your reason?”
0:08
You hesitated for a moment, “ because I cared about you,”
“That’s not what you said Y/n, what exact words did you say?” His own eyes were betraying him at this point.
0:03
“I told you that I loved you, that fake or not, I would still love you” you cried, “And you didn’t say it back.”
Just then the phone clicked off as Eurus ended the call.
Sherlock redirected his attention to Eurus’ screen, “Okay Eurus, I won. I made her say it. What now, what happens next?”
“Funny isn’t it? I don’t recall her actually saying the words ‘I love you’. She said ‘I loved you’ and ‘I would still love you’ and while close, I just don’t think that cuts it for me.”
“Wait!” Sherlock screamed launching forward as Eurus hit a button and he was forced to watch your apartment explode. All that Mycroft could manage was staring in shock as the tv quickly cut to black. John went to his friend who had sunk to the ground staring vacantly.
“You didn’t tell her before Reichenbach and now you’ll never be able to, tell me Sherlock, are all those complicated little emotions worth it? Because to me it seems that the emotional context is what destroys you. Now pull yourself together as the next challenge is even more enduring.”
She paused for a moment before adding, “take your time,” and shutting off her screen.
Sherlock rose to his feet and John and Mycroft hesitantly went towards the next door, turning back when they heard him whisper “no” before aggressively attacking the empty coffin taking out his rage and immediate grief. After annihilating it, he sat back against the wall.
Regretting that he could not properly console his friend, John forced himself over to Sherlock handing him the gun saying, “I know this is beyond difficult and you are being tortured, but you have to keep it together, we have to keep moving”
“This isn’t torture, it’s vivisection, we are experience science from the perspective of lab rats,”
“Right now, we are soldiers who just need to survive, this is not the time nor place for mourning,” John said firmly.
“Alright,” Sherlock agreed and John helped him up.
The three men continued to the next room where Sherlock was tasked with choosing whether to kill John or Mycroft. He made his decision, Eurus’ game was over, and he pointed the gun under his own chin taking a calculated risk.
When he awoke, he was alone in a small cell plastered with pictures from his childhood. He quickly called out for John and Mycroft. John answered explaining that he was in a well, but otherwise seemingly fine. There was no response from Mycroft.
Sherlock quickly figured out that he was not actually in a cell but rather in a collapsable structure outside his childhood home. Eurus tasked him with discovering the location of Redbeard and upped the stakes as she started filling the well that John was chained to the bottom of. Sherlock racked his brain trying to solve the same problem who’s solution had evaded him as a child. That was at least until in an escape attempt, John solved an important piece of the puzzle.
Redbeard was never a dog.
Sherlock suddenly remembered his childhood best friend Victor Trevor who his brain had so cleverly disguised to help preserve his psyche. With this new information, Sherlock was able to figure out the Eurus’ song corresponded to the gravestones with the weird dates. He quickly deciphered the message and went to free John who was running out of time.
Outside of the well, he discovered his sister, “I’m so sorry Eurus,” he spoke sincerely.
“You needed me and I abandoned you, I could have saved you,” he added.
“I just wanted my brother,” she replied childishly.
“I’m here now, and we can fix this, just free John, don’t make the same mistake you made with Victor,” he pleaded.
“I don’t want to quit playing the game, I don’t want you to leave me again,”
“I’m not going to leave, I’m going to save you,”
Not knowing how to respond she simply stepped back and allowed Sherlock to save his friend. He dove into action turning the water off and then retrieving a key carefully tossing down to John so that he could free his ankles. He searched for a moment to find what Eurus had used to get John down there to begin with and found some rope that he leveraged against a tree and tossed down to his friend.
It was as John was climbing over the side that the police cars and helicopters arrived. Mycroft’s people were there to collect Eurus, who went with them peacefully. Sherlock and John were both checked over by the EMT’s and given shock blankets. They were informed that Mycroft was safe and simply left back in Sherrinford. Once he regained consciousness, he his people and sent them in helicopters to take care of Eurus. But then? Who called the police?
“William Sherlock Holmes” you yelled slamming the door to Greg’s station car.
John and Sherlock had never turned around so fast in their lives. How were you here? Hadn’t they both watched your apartment go up in smoke? Or, was that merely another one of Eurus’ tricks?
“You’d better have a good explanation for-”
“I love you too,” he interrupted shocking both you and John.
“What?” you asked in disbelief.
“I said I love you too, I wanted to say it during that call two years ago, and I wanted to say it earlier today. I promise I will explain everything, and I understand if you no longer fill the same way, I’m sorry for not saying it before,” he confessed.
You stared at him in awe, taking a step closer still staring at him. You closed the remaining gap between the two of you and smoothly connected your lips with his allowing them to communicate for you. After an instant of shock, Sherlock reciprocated allowing the blanket to fall off of his shoulders as he pulled you in closer. When he pulled away, both of you were slightly dazed and smiling.
“You have a lot of explaining to do,” you whispered.
“That I do,” he answered.
From there, Greg dropped John and Sherlock off at John’s place where he happily greeted Molly and wasted no time collecting Rosie. The next day the three of you would meet up at 221B Baker Street and begin cleaning and repairing that flat as Sherlock did as promised and explained everything. After two weeks the renovations were complete and John and Rosie moved back in with Sherlock who had decided to utilize space in 221C for experiments to keep Rosie away from them both for her safety and his sanity.
You became more than a frequent visitor and eventually moved into one of the bedrooms of 221C however you spent far more time in Sherlock’s bed than in your own. You watched Rosie as the boys went out on cases and would occasionally tag in for John. Being in a relationship with Sherlock was interesting to say the least, but you wouldn’t trade a second of it.
Did you miss me? Either way, I’m back with a short series. This is the first and shortest part, I hope you enjoy it. You can find my other imagines HERE
“I have a present for you, a game of sorts, you’ll love it,” Moriarty smiled as he spoke to Sherlock. He could barely hold back his excitement at what fun this was.
“And what is this game?” Sherlock asked feigning boredom.
“Oh, straight to the point Sherlock, I love it,” Moriarty beamed.
“I haven’t got all day,” Sherlock replied becoming impatient.
“It involves all of your favorite things: murder, time restraints, puzzles, logic, etcetera,”
“And what if I chose not to play,” Sherlock questioned.
“You would never,” Moriarty answered completely sure of himself.
“You’re right, what are the rules?” Sherlock asked.
“One Murder, and it’s a good one. Solve the case, catch the killer, blah blah blah, get the antidote,” Moriarty explained.
“Antidote?” Sherlock asked.
“This is the good part. I have poisoned one of the people you care about. That person has roughly-” he checked his watch, “36 hours before the poison kills them.”
“Anything else?” Sherlock asked.
“Anything else?” Moriarty mocked.
“That’s it, Sherlock. A nice little game to distract you for the next day and a half. You’re welcome.” Moriarty smiled expectantly.
“What do you get out of this?” Sherlock asked.
“Everyone seems to think that you are so clever. Maybe you are, maybe you’re not. This is a test to see whether or not you are a worthy adversary. I hope that you don’t disappoint. Now, what is that thing you say? The game is on isn’t it?”
And with that Moriarty exited. Sherlock would have threatened him or went after him but he knew by now that Moriarty was too smart to not have an escape plan. There were probably snipers aiming at him for the entirety of that conversation. He waited a sufficient amount of time before exiting and beckoning for a cab to take him back to Baker Street.
He already knew that this was about to get interesting. He felt guilty about the excitement Moriarty’s challenge was bringing him. This was like Christmas and he couldn’t wait to tell John and Y/n.
Summary: When Euros entangles Y/N in her violent game of intellect, Sherlock must sacrifice something he never expected to care for. As he looks back upon what he will lose, he sees only the fragments of his shattered heart…
▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️▪️
Sherrinford, High Security Prison
“If you want her out of the game, you’ll have to burn her out of it.”
“Sister, please. I beg of you… don’t.”
Sherlock Holmes stood hunched before the monitor, his tone bleeding with desperation.
“I’m afraid this is non negotiable. It’s either her heart or her life. Choose one or I’ll have no choice but to take both. Of course, the bit about her heart won’t be in the metaphorical sense, you understand.”
A red light blared throughout the room and Jim Moriarty’s jives echoed off the walls. Sherlock’s fists clenched as he looked up at Euros’ sickly smile of triumph.
“I can’t… I won’t destroy everything we’ve built…” he whispered to himself. “Not like this.”
Doctor Watson placed a hand on his friend’s shoulder. “Your sister is insatiable and that makes her dangerous,” he said in a low voice. “There’s more at stake here than just your pride. Soldiers, remember? Maybe you should-”
“Not now John! Don’t you see? I love her!”
Sherlock blanched at his own admission. Y/N was the light of his life and he couldn’t let Euros jeopardize that.
John’s jaw clenched as he stared back with a look of sorrow. “That’s exactly why you need to do it. You need to break her heart to save her life.”
Sherlock looked down at the mobile phone in his hand. As the seconds ticked by, his beloved Y/N came closer to her demise. Euros had set an assassin after her and unless he complied with his sister’s task, Y/N would face a swift death.
He felt a million passions ricocheting in his heart. There were no more tricks up his sleeve. Sherlock had to submit to his sister’s will or face the consequences.
“I won’t lose her…” he whispered. Taking a deep breath, Sherlock turned to John and nodded steadily. “Soldiers.”
With shaky hands, he dialled Y/N’s number and listened to the timbre of the rings.
He closed his eyes as the world spun around him, and his mind raced in reminiscence. Sherlock could suddenly see thousands of snapshots of the beautiful life which he was about to destroy…
***
“John, I’ve told you before, I haven’t the time for your little friend. I’m not sure if you’ve noticed, but I have a case to solve!”
The doctor sighed and rubbed at his throbbing temple. “If you would just hear her out-”
Sherlock stepped over the coffee table and walked to the door. He made a point to swing it open with great emphasis. “Forgive me,” he said to the girl with a smile that was anything but polite. “But I am very busy. If you would kindly take your leave before-“
“It was the perfume, Mr Holmes.”
Sherlock paused at the girl’s quiet declaration. “Come again?” he asked, eyes narrowed.
Y/N cleared her throat. “The perfume,” she repeated. “The victim smelled of perfume the day her body was found.”
“I’m aware. Did you have a point?”
Y/N rolled her eyes. “Mrs Thewlis was allergic to Ethanol, the prime ingredient in perfume. She wouldn’t be wearing it unless someone forced her to.”
She crossed her arms as she continued on. “I asked Molly to run a toxicology test and the report came back positive. Traces of poison were found in Thewlis’ bloodstream, seemingly absorbed through her skin.”
She paused for effect. “My theory, Mr Holmes is that somebody sprayed the victim with a sort of chemical infused mist and that there was no murder weapon at the crime scene because the victim was wearing it the entire time!”
Sherlock said nothing. He simply observed the girl in curious silence before closing the door and walking towards her.
“You’re saying that somebody doused her perfume with poison?”
“Yes, Mr Holmes.”
“What’s your name?” he asked, cocking his head to the side.
“Y/N.”
“Y/N,” he repeated to himself. “Well Y/N, congratulations on cracking your first case.”
Sherlock couldn’t wrap his head around it. How could this girl have possibly picked up on something that he had missed? Normally he’d have felt a wounded pride, a violent jealousy at her intellect, but strangely enough, he felt nothing. On the contrary, Sherlock was intrigued by her sharpness. He suddenly felt a burning desire to know more about her.
Sherlock was snapped back to attention by the sound of her voice. “I’m glad that I could be of assistance. Good day, Mr Holmes.” Y/N gave a curt nod as a means of farewell and was just about to leave the flat when she felt a hand on her wrist.
She turned around and saw the consulting detective. “Please,” he said, extending a gloved hand. “Call me Sherlock. Will you stay for tea?”
***
A soft amber light streamed in through the gossamer curtains of 221B Baker Street. The delicate London breeze danced in through the window, making the thin veils flutter.
Y/N hummed softly as the quaint disturbance roused her from her sleep. She tilted her head to the side and caught a glimpse of the time. 5:45 on a Friday morning. She felt movement to her right, and was suddenly exposed to the morning chill as her blanket was yanked away.
Turning on her side, Y/N was met by Sherlock’s sleeping frame. She gave a shiver and was just about to reprimand him for hoarding the covers when something struck her.
She drew a breath at the sight of him lying next to her. His tousled hair was pressed against the pillow, soft and unruly. His bare chest heaved in slow breaths, moving up and down steadily. His face was unmarred by the stress of his waking moments. Sherlock looked comfortable and at ease.
Though she had been waking up to this same sight every morning for the past few years, Y/N felt as though she were seeing him for the very first time whenever she caught him in these quiet moments of dawn.
She reached out to touch him just to prove to herself that he was more than a perfect illusion. Her hand lingered mere inches away when Sherlock spoke, his voice heavy with sleep. “You’re awake.”
“Yes, a chill woke me. Somebody was greedy with the covers…”
He opened his eyes and grinned. “How tragic.”
With a soft groan he shifted and pulled Y/N closer, wrapping an arm around her so that she lay with her head in the crook of his arm. She sighed contentedly and grazed his skin with her fingertips. Resting her palm against his chest, she felt the steady beat of his heart.
“What are you thinking?”
Y/N paused for a moment. “I’m thinking that this might be too good to be true.”
“You’re right,” Sherlock said, propping himself up on an elbow. He looked down at Y/N and smiled. “This is much too good to be true, but I would be a fool to question it.” With his free hand, Sherlock cupped the back of Y/N’s neck and brought her close to his upturned lips. “I’ll be damned if I let anything come between us. I swear to you, I’m not going anywhere.”
Sherlock finally kissed her. As the morning rays shone through the airy curtains, Y/N took comfort in the thought that their love was infinite.
***
Gone was the music.
A familiar burning sensation prickled at the back of her eyes, but still, Y/N denied herself the tears.
She sat quietly in Sherlock’s old armchair, staring at the bullet ridden wall.
“Yoo-hoo,” called a voice from the doorway. Y/N hardly stirred as Mrs Hudson came bustling in with a tray of tea and biscuits.
“Morning’ dearie, I brought you a cuppa’! I thought you might fancy a treat,” the kindly landlady said, forcing a cheery tone.
She took a look around the room and frowned at the gathering dust and drawn curtains. “It’s a bit gloomy in here, isn’t it?”
Grief had taken its toll since Sherlock’s fall, and Y/N was a transparent reflection of it. Her eyes were bloodshot and held an emptiness to them as she reflected within the abandoned flat, lost in her memories.
“It’s fine, really,” Y/N said a weakly.
Mrs Hudson’s gaze shifted. Y/N was wearing Sherlock’s old coat. A mahogany patch stained the collar. A reminder.
“It’s been two years, love. It’s time to let go.”
A glossy trail streamed down Y/N’s cheek, but still she smiled. “He’ll be back,” she said, her voice cracking. “He promised me that he wasn’t going anywhere. If I just wait here, I’m sure-”
“He’s not coming back,” Mrs Hudson said gently.
Y/N turned away. “I told him it was too good to be true.”
Mrs Hudson smiled sympathetically. “I’ll be downstairs, love.”
Y/N grabbed hold of her chair’s armrests and squeezed. She winced as a hot trail of tears slicked her cheeks.
It wasn’t supposed to be this way. Sherlock wasn’t supposed to have been on that rooftop. He wasn’t meant to leave her grieving.
He wasn’t supposed to be gone.
Perhaps Mrs Hudson was right. Maybe it was time to move on like John had. Y/N ran a hand through her hair and let out a shaky breath. She was just about to reach for her tea when she heard a loud crash and a scream come from downstairs.
“Mrs Hudson?” Y/N stood up in a panic and rushed downstairs, heart racing.
“Mrs Hudson!” she cried out.
Y/N found her landlady in the kitchen, shattered porcelain on the floor. “Are you alright?” she asked warily.
“I’m sure she’ll be fine. It was simply a mild shock.”
A chill ran up Y/N’s spine at the sound of that distantly familiar voice. It can’t be… she thought incredulously. Carefully, she turned her gaze upwards and noticed for the first time the man standing at the doorway.
“Hello,” he waved awkwardly.
Standing at the other end of the room was Sherlock Holmes.
Y/N stared as he shifted uncomfortably under her critical gaze. Dressed in his signature trench coat and dress pants, he looked the same as the day she had lost him.
“New coat?” she asked, stunned.
Sherlock cleared his throat. “Yes, actually. Unlike yours, I suppose. I see you held onto the old one…” He looked to the floor. “it… well, it suits you, mind the gore.”
Y/N ignored his attempt at humour. “You’re back,” she whispered.
When he looked back at her, his eyes glistened. “How could you expect me to stay away?”
***
“You can’t be serious!”
“I swear it’s true!”
Y/N listened carefully from the hall as John, Mary, and Greg conferred in 221B. From what she could hear, they were talking about her and Sherlock. Though it had been months since they had reunited, the pangs of lost love still inflamed their passions.
“He actually said that to you? Those exact words?”
Y/N frowned at the excitement in Mary’s tone as she grilled John on something that Sherlock had allegedly told him. John laughed and Y/N peeked through the crack in the door to catch him kiss his wife lightly on the nose.
“Those exact words,” he affirmed softly. “Sherlock is thinking of proposing marriage to Y/N.”
Y/N let out a small gasp and clamped a hand over her mouth to muffle the sound of her surprise. She blinked as a wave of emotions crossed through her. Marriage? Sherlock? These two words were foreign in the same sentence and she had to take a breath to contain herself.
“Bloody hell…” she heard Lestrade mutter from the flat. “Our boy’s found it,” he said softly. “He’s found his heart.”
“Keep your voice down!” John whispered sharply. “Y/N will be here any minute, and she can’t know!”
Y/N stepped back and leaned against the wall, closing her eyes. She felt her heart race and couldn’t stop smiling. Sherlock Holmes, the man that she adored more than she ever imagined she could, was on the verge of proposing to her.
“Sneaking about, are we?“
Y/N gave a start when she opened her eyes and saw Sherlock standing before her, brow upturned.
She straightened herself and smiled nervously. “I was just about to head inside.”
“Is that why you’re lurking just outside the flat, plastered against the wall?” Sherlock asked sarcastically.
Y/N shrugged, not knowing what to say. Just at that moment though, Greg opened the door to meet them.
“Oi, we could hear you gabbing out here. Are you coming in or what? We’ve been expecting you.”
Sherlock peered past the Detective Inspector’s shoulder and found John and Mary grinning guiltily inside. His lips twitched in a hidden smile as he deduced what exactly was happening. “Yes,” he said slowly. “We’ll be right there.”
When Greg stepped back inside, Sherlock turned to Y/N. “You haven’t been eavesdropping on others’ conversations, have you?” he asked sweetly.
She looked at at him in feigned shock. “I would never!”
Sherlock studied her, his smile growing as he regarded the charming glint in her eyes. In that moment, he caught flashes of a future with her. Since they had met, Sherlock had reimagined his previous notions of the dullness of domesticity. Though marriage had once seemed a burden to him, Y/N had changed that, and Sherlock knew that nothing would be grander than a quaint life by her side.
“What have I done to deserve you?” he asked softly. Y/N watched as Sherlock pressed her gently against the wall, and wrapped his arms around her. He kissed the crown of her head before leaning forwards and grazing the shell of her ear. “I love you,” he whispered delicately. Sherlock closed his eyes and whispered again, “I love you.”
***
Sherrinford, High Security Prison
“Hello?”
Sherlock’s eyes snapped open. He scanned the room, disoriented. He had felt safe for a moment, caught in remembrance, but the sterility of Sherrinford’s cell had cut through the dream.
He caught a flash of Euros frowning from the monitor and looked back to find John standing solemnly behind him. Y/N’s voice blared from hidden speakers. Nothing had changed.
“Hello?”
Sherlock drew a breath at the familiarity of the voice on the other end of the line. His task became clear once more. He pinched the bridge of his nose and gulped.
“Hello love,” he said, his tone strained.
Red lights flashed in warning and Sherlock looked up. “This isn’t a social call,” Euros said icily. “Don’t try and mitigate the blow with pet names. It’s her heart or her life Sherlock, I think I’ve made that clear.”
A pang of alarm shot through him. There was no way out.
“Sherlock, is that you?” Y/N asked from the other end of the line. “Are you alright?”
Sherlock walked to one of the cell’s walls and leaned an arm against it, seeking purchase. He thought of Euros’ hire, trigger finger itching for a clean shot.
“Sherlock?” she called again. “Can you hear me?”
Sherlock needed to burn her out of his story. "I pray you’ll forgive me…” he whispered to himself. Standing tall, he straightened his collar and detached himself from the warmth that Y/N had inspired in him throughout all their years. Sherlock Holmes became ice.
“Y/N?” he said. “I need you to listen to me.”
“I’m listening,” she said uncertainly.
Red lights flashed and Moriarity’s malarkey reigned.
“About us,” Sherlock continued, “We’ve come far.”
Y/N laughed. “You called to talk about us?What’s this-”
"Don’t interrupt,” he said curtly. “I need to fix this.”
There was a moment of silence before Y/N responded. “What are you saying?” she asked slowly.
"I mean to say that I’m ending this. Our experiment.”
“Experiment?” she scoffed.
Sherlock’s voice was brisk and steady, devoid of feeling. "Indeed. You see, our relationship was was only ever a simulation of sentiment. A psychological examination. A game of science.”
He could hear Y/N’s breath hitch and he clenched his fist in guilt. He was slowly approaching the end.
“It’s all been a rouse,” he said tensely. “ A clever experiment to test the naivety of the human mind, and you Y/N, were the ideal subject. Insecure, wide-eyed, and unduly retentive; you were foolishly loyal to a man that never cared, and it has proved your undoing.”
Sherlock waited for Y/N to hang up the phone. To curse him or yell obscenities from the receiver. He waited for her anger, silently praying she would cut him off. It was the only way Euros would spare her, and Y/N’s acrimony against him was well worth her life.
She said nothing.
Subconscious sirens hammered in his mind. Sherlock couldn’t know for sure if she had believed him. He had to push harder. “ You’re nothing more than a failed enterprise,” he said sharply. He heard his voice rise until he was sure he sounded near hysterics. “ You have nothing left to offer, so I implore you to leave me be!”
Silence dragged on until Sherlock finally heard Y/N sniff. She let out a shaky breath and spoke. “Sherlock,” she began softly. “I’m not sure what you’ve gotten yourself into, but you can’t expect me to believe a word of what you just said.”
no. no. no. no. no…
Sherlock shook his head furiously. She wasn’t supposed to be kind. She was meant to be hurt.
Y/N gave an unsettled laugh before continuing. “I love you, Sherlock,” she whispered. “I love—”
Shattered glass and silence.
Sherlock collapsed to his knees. “Y/N?” he asked gently. A shiver ran up his spine at the blackout stillness. “Y/N!” he cried out. His hands trembled in horror and bile rose in his throat. It isn’t so… he thought. it can’t be so…
“I’m afraid you’re out of luck, brother.” Euros said softly.
Sherlock looked up at his sister, his eyes bloodshot.
She cocked her head to the side, feigning sympathy. “You failed,” she said simply. “Let’s move on, shall we?” The screen went dark and the cell lit up with crimson light.
Sherlock stayed abased, kneeling on the cold flooring. A damp heat trailed down his cheeks, but he made no move to wipe it away. He thought of Y/N. He thought of her smile. Her laugh. Her silence.
He thought of their thousands of moments past and the finality of her fall.
I FINISHED IT! I FINALLY FINISHED IT! THIS CURSED FIC HAD BEEN TRAPPED IN MY NOTES SINCE THE SUMMER BUT I FINALLY FINISHED IT!!!!
Hey you guys!!! What’s going on??? This fic is veryheavy on the whole Molly x Sherlock ordeal back in Sherrinford, so I hope that’s something you’re into! I just thought it would be cool to write about snapshots from Sherlock and Y/N’s relationship, soooo yeah! Thanks for reading!!!!
If you’d like to be tagged in any future Sherlock fics, just tell me in the comments! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Sherlock fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Sherlock, Reader x John Watson…)
Summary: When Sherlock blows off his Valentine’s plans with Y/N, she’s just about ready to give up on their relationship and move on. It isn’t until she receives a text from the consulting detective that she decides to hold off on the impulse and give him one last chance.
Will Sherlock Holmes have enough heart to save the day?
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“Good morning, John!”
Doctor Watson looked up from his spot at the kitchen table and smiled. “Good morning, Y/N,” he said kindly. “Big day?”
She looked down at herself and shrugged. “Something like that.”
It was the morning of February fourteenth in London, and the city was buzzing with lovesick couples rushing about for last minute gifts and tokens. Y/N had stopped by 221B Baker Street to visit Sherlock for the occasion.
It was their first Valentine’s Day as a couple and she couldn’t wait to celebrate it with the man that she loved. She had dressed in her finest clothes and picked up a platter of muffins from the café next door.
“JOHN! HAVE YOU SEEN MY HEART ANYWHERE?” a voice called out from down the hall.
John and Y/N turned their heads as Sherlock entered the room, dressed in a suit and his signature coat and scarf.
“Have I seen your heart?” John asked slowly.
Sherlock tossed his scarf on the table, narrowly missing the platter of treats that Y/N had placed down earlier. “Yes, heart! You’re a doctor for goodness sake! You know, the thing that pumps blood, and-”
John took a breath and rubbed his temples, gingerly. “Yes. I’m well aware of what a heart is as well as its physiological function, but I don’t understand the context of your question!”
“It’s imperative that I find the organ before noon!” Sherlock scowled. He threw his hands up in the air and pushed past Y/N, not bothering to say hello. “Mrs Hudson!” he cried out, disappearing out the door once more.
Y/N sighed and perched on the edge of the kitchen counter. She should have seen this coming. Sherlock was always so preoccupied with his work that he often forgot about her.
John smiled at her sympathetically. “It’s fitting that he look for a heart today of all days,” he said.
Y/N nodded and crossed her arms. “Most would argue that he hasn’t got one.”
“You don’t mean that,” John said, reaching for a muffin.
Y/N swatted his hand away. “I really don’t,” she admitted. “I think he has the biggest heart out of all of us. He’s just a bit unconventional in how he shows it.”
Before John could respond, his mobile buzzed. He checked the notification and frowned. “You’re not going to like this,” he said.
Y/N pursed her lips and motioned for him to carry on.
“It’s Sherlock,” John continued, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly. “He’s left for the police station on a homicide case. He just messaged me to meet him there.”
Y/N let out a groan. Today was supposed to be special. She had planned for them to spend Valentine’s together and instead, Sherlock had run off to bond with a corpse and a killer.
“That’s fine, John,” she said. “I’ll just head home then.”
Doctor Watson nodded, then stood up and gave one last meaningful glance at the muffins which Y/N had brought for Sherlock. She leaned forwards and pushed the platter closer to him. “Be my guest,” she said, defeated.
John smiled sheepishly, snagged a muffin, and rushed out the door, waving goodbye behind his shoulder.
Y/N winced when the door locked behind him. It seemed like she would be spending Valentine’s Day on her own.
***
Y/N surfed through the channels of her telly, her grip on the remote tightening with every romcom and couple’s programming that flashed by. She had waited the entire day for Sherlock to contact her, but the sky had since darkened and she had yet to hear a word from his end.
She was just about to head to bed when her mobile buzzed.
Baker Street
Will you come?
S.H.
Y/N pursed her lips at the hesitance in Sherlock’s text. Usually, his messages were orders, not suggestions. He knew that he had done wrong, she was sure of it. She took a breath and typed back a response.
I’m not sure if I can.
Y/N waited a moment before receiving a reply.
Please?
S.H.
Please…That was all it took for her to fall for the consulting detective all over again. The entire day, she had been thinking of ending their relationship for good. Shifting back to the safety of an unlikely friendship. But with only a few texts, she knew that she couldn’t. Sherlock Holmes might have been the coarsest man in London, but he was hers.
I’ll be there.
Though she hated to admit it, Y/N was excited to see the consulting detective. Not wasting another minute, she grabbed her coat and raced out the door of her flat.
***
Sherlock tapped his foot nervously and checked his watch for the third time. Y/N was late. He gripped a fresh bunch of roses in his hand and winced when a thorn nicked his skin.
“It’s your own fault, you know,” John murmured from behind a newspaper.
Sherlock turned to his flatmate and scowled. “Though I appreciate your remark John, perhaps you can keep all further comments to yourself!”
The Doctor tossed his paper onto the table by his armchair and leaned forwards, eyes on Sherlock. “The poor girl has been waiting the whole day,” he said slowly. “The only reason you even invited her back to the flat is because I reminded you that today was Valentine’s Day.”
Sherlock held John’s gaze for a moment before finally looking downwards. “You’re right,” he said softly. “I’m a fool.” He scrubbed a hand down his face and tossed the flowers to the floor, kicking them away with contempt. “I’ve lost her,” he lamented, walking towards the window. “How could I have been so careless?”
“I find myself asking the same question most days. About you being careless, that is.”
Sherlock turned around and saw Y/N leaning against the flat’s doorway, a tight smile on her face.
“You came,” he said breathlessly.
“I almost didn’t,” she admitted.
Sherlock felt a pang of guilt course through him. “I’m glad you changed your mind.”
Y/N approached him, her arms crossed. When he leaned forwards to kiss her, she gave him her cheek.
“I suppose I deserve that,” he muttered, shooting a glare at John when he heard the Doctor chortle at the snub.
“You really do,” Y/N scoffed. She studied Sherlock, taking in his crisp suit and windblown hair. “Why am I here?” she asked. “You were too busy to see me for all of the fourteenth, but suddenly decided to ask me over in the dead of night?”
Sherlock shifted on his feet, not quite knowing what to say. “I’ve done wrong,” he said finally. He took Y/N’s hand in his own and looked her directly in the eyes. “And I’m not just talking about today.”
She quirked a brow, waiting for him to continue.
“I’ve always put you second,” he said. “I cast you to the sidelines in place of my work, and I’m sorry.” He put a hand on her cheek, his eyes flicking down towards her lips. “Truly, I’m sorry.”
Y/N smiled and kissed him lightly. “I forgive you,” she whispered. In truth, she had already decided to let it go. Though his behavior did hurt her sometimes, she knew that in the grander scheme of things, Sherlock was doing the city a service by solving the mysteries that nobody else could.
“Oh yes, before I forget!” Sherlock blurted out, bending down on a knee. “These are for you!” Y/N watched as he picked up a grungy bunch of flowers from the floor, the petals curled and limp.
Sherlock’s face lit up as he presented the offering to her. His eyes crinkled from his wide smile and glinted proudly. “Happy Valentine’s Day, my love,” he said. “I picked these myself.”
“He really did,” John affirmed. “They’re roses from the garden patch where the victim was found buried earlier today.”
Y/N accepted the flowers carefully. “They’re lovely,” she said hesitantly. When she glanced back up at Sherlock, she couldn’t help but beam at the pleased expression on his face.
He winked at her then offered out his arm, gesturing for her to grab hold of him. “I may have failed you earlier today, but I plan on fixing that,” he said. “How would you like to join me on a stroll about the city?”
Y/N gave his arm a gentle squeeze. “I don’t know Sherlock, you have a lot to make up for,” she teased.
He leaned forwards and kissed her. When he pulled back, he pressed his forehead against her own and grinned. “Then we have no time to waste,” he whispered.
As Valentine’s day drew to a close, Sherlock Holmes and Y/N began their adventure, leaving Baker Street in one another’s arms.
I don’t think Sherlock would be the best Valentine’s date :)
If you’d like to be tagged in any future Sherlock fics, just tell me in the comments! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Sherlock fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Sherlock, Reader x John Watson…)
Summary: Sherlock has always had bad ideas… but this one is just ridiculous. After a spider bite renders the consulting detective unconscious, Y/N has to deal with her partner’s carelessness.
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“I don’t think this is a good idea…”
Sherlock turned to Y/N and grinned. “Well, it’s not the worst, either. How else will we substantiate the accused’s defence?”
“Allow me to rephrase,” Y/N began tensely. “This is by far the most ludicrous idea that you’ve ever had! And that’s saying a lot for you, Sherlock Holmes!”
“It’s perfectly sane,” he assured. “Even so, ludicrosity is the essence of methodical study!”
Sherlock and Y/N stood in St Bartholomew’s Hospital laboratory as they investigated their latest case which John had already dubbed ‘The Spider’s Web’. A woman, accused of killing her neighbour denied the charge, pleading innocent after an alleged spider bite incapacitated her throughout the thirty minutes in which the murder was surmised to have occurred.
Now, Sherlock and Y/N hovered over an illuminated examination table, where the case’s greatest piece of evidence awaited testing… the spider.
Y/N looked down at the arachnid crawling in the mason jar and cringed. “What are you trying to prove here, Sherlock?” she asked. “That you’re a reckless investigator with an unhealthy disregard for his own safety? We already know that!”
Sherlock looked up at her and quirked a brow, unimpressed. “If the spider bites me, and I blackout for a half hour, we’ll be able to prove the accused’s story. If I’m completely unaffected, we’ll know she’s lying and the Crown prosecutor can present my findings in court. Really Y/N, keep up.”
“Couldn’t we just ask Molly to run a toxicology test?”
“I like to be thorough,” Sherlock shrugged.
“You like to be showy is what you mean…” Y/N mumbled to herself.
“What was that?”
“Nothing.”
Sherlock gave one last pointed look before pulling out a pocket watch and handing it to Y/N. “The moment I show any signs of wooziness or sickness after the bite, I need you to start taking time. Thirty minutes, Y/N. Remember that.”
“Sherlock, this is so dangerous!”
“Nonsense,” he scoffed. “I’ve done my research and gone through the preliminary analyses. I am absolutely convinced that nothing will happen. The accused is clearly lying, I know that to be a fact!”
“What if something does happen?” Y/N pressed.
“I’m never wrong,” Sherlock insisted. “At worst, It’ll be a small nip. I’m sure of it.”
Y/N rubbed a hand down her face and sighed in defeat. “Alright Sherlock. If you’re sure.”
“I’m positive.”
Y/N gestured towards the waiting spider and looked at Sherlock deliberately. “Go ahead,” she invited.
He made a move towards the mason jar but stopped short. “No kiss for good luck?” he inquired.
“I thought you said that nothing would happen.”
“Well yes, but it would be nice.”
Y/N narrowed her eyes and Sherlock stifled a laugh. “No, you’re right,” he said. “You’ll owe me a kiss after I prove you wrong, and show you that this experiment is completely safe. The accused is guilty and her story is nothing more than a rouse.”
Flashing Y/N a self-assured grin, Sherlock carefully shrugged off his coat and rolled up the sleeve of his dress shirt. Y/N watched as he lifted the mason jar to eye’s length and squinted at the small creature inside. “It’s nothing more than a common house spider,” he said surely. “It could hardly incapacitate a fly, let alone the likes of me.” He lifted his other arm and dipped the jar above it, gently forcing the spider out. “Do your worst, old friend,” he whispered to the arachnid.
Y/N clasped onto the pocket watch tightly as the spider crawled the length of Sherlock’s arm. “Why isn’t it biting you?” she whispered. “I don’t suppose it’s agitated,” Sherlock whispered back.
Y/N tapped her foot, growing impatient. “Perhaps you should agitate it.” she said snidely.
“You’re beginning to agitate me, Y/N,” he retorted. “Perhaps you’ll have the same effect on the spider.”
Y/N smacked his arm playfully, giving him a jolt. It was there that the spider decided to bite.
“Ouch!” he cried sharply. “That’s curious. I wasn’t expecting such a sting.”
Y/N bit her lip and watched as Sherlock shooed the spider back into the mason jar. He was uncharacteristically quiet as he did so.
They waited a few minutes, but there was no obvious reaction. “How long has passed since the bite?” Sherlock finally asked. Y/N checked the time. “Five minutes and thirty seconds.”
He smirked. “Now you see darling,” he began smugly. “I told you that nothing would happen. As the world’s greatest consulting detective, I’m too apt for mistakes! In fact…”
Sherlock hadn’t finished his thought when his speech slurred and he stumbled back a step.
“Sherlock?” Y/N called warily. His knees buckled and Y/N reached out an arm to catch his tall frame. “Perhaps it wasn’t a simple house spider…” he mumbled. She wrapped her arms around him and gently lowered him to the floor.
“Oh no,” Sherlock moaned jaggedly. “Y/N, this can’t be happening! What have I done? All my life, I- I—”
Y/N dropped to her knees and held his head against her chest. “What is it, Sherlock? Does it hurt badly?”
“No,” he said weakly, his eyelids fluttering. “It’s much worse than physical pain, I’m afraid.”
Y/N felt a wave of panic course through her. “Don’t tell me it’s lethal!” she cried out. “Is this going to kill you? Are you going to die?”
“Not lethal,” he affirmed faintly. “I just can’t believe I was wrong. I’m never wrong…”
With that, the consulting detective closed his eyes. Y/N stared down at him incredulously as he began to snore softly. It wasn’t the spider’s venom that he was worried about. It was the fact that he had made a mistake!
Y/N rolled her eyes at his ego. “You’re an idiot,” she said, leaning down to kiss his forehead. “But you’re mine, I suppose.” With the unconscious consulting detective resting on her lap, Y/N reached for her mobile and dialed John’s number.
“Doctor Watson here.”
“Hello John,” Y/N began. “Are you still near St Bart’s?”
“Yes, of course. Sherlock told me to stay on standby, though I’m not quite sure why.”
“It seems he’s a bit lethargic… knocked out cold, really.”
“Is he wounded?” John asked anxiously.
Y/N spared a glance at Sherlock and smiled at his unruly curls. “Yes John, he’s been wounded. Though it’s not what you think.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s mostly an injury to his pride.”
John sighed on the other end of the line. “I think I understand. Stupid experiment gone wrong?” he asked causally.
“Does he conduct any other kind?” Y/N replied with a laugh.
“On my way.”
Y/N tucked her phone away and looked at Sherlock still lying on her lap. “The wounded detective,” she mused. “This could have been easily avoided.” She watched his deep breaths and though she wanted to be annoyed at his stubbornness, she couldn’t find it in herself to reprimand him. It was as she had said before. Sherlock Holmes may have been careless, pompous, and snide; but he was hers.
“I know you can’t hear me,” Y/N teased. “But I think the accused is innocent…”
Sherlock’s light snoring was his only reply, and Y/N giggled. “Sweet dreams,” she whispered. “Is it too late to tell you not to let the bedbugs bite?”
This was a weird one I’ll admit, and it was scarring. Just writing this fic made me itchy and yeah-no. I really hate spiders. Ack, I’m actually cringing… WHY DID I DO THIS TO MYSELF??? Okay, now I’m genuinely scared, I’m checking every corner of my room just in case…
Oh, as for the title… arraignment and araña, get it???? Okay, no direct relation BUT law and spiders are kind of the theme for the fic sooo…
***If you’d like to be tagged in any future Sherlock fics, just tell me in the comments! (and if you’d rather not be tagged in ALL Sherlock fics, please specify; EX: Reader x Sherlock, Reader x John Watson…)
If you are a Sherlock fan (or just wanting some company!) then Please Come and Join the Sunday Watchalongs in ‘The Giant Chat of Sumatra’. - We’re currently doing a complete watch-through of all the Granada TV series!
On 5th June we’ll watch two episodes from the ’Granada Holmes’ The Return - TV series. These were produced by the British tv company Granada in 1988 and starred Jeremy Brett and Edward Hardwicke.
(It’s likely that I won’t be at this watchalong so please nominate someone to start yourselves off etc)
All of the Sunday watchalongs take place in ‘The Giant Chat of Sumatra’ and we start watching at approx 20:10 UK time (People usually turn up from 19:45 onwards to have a natter beforehand!) Click here to convert to your timezone. You do not need to have ever been to a watchalong before - anyone reading this can come along. If you wish to be tagged in these weekly reminders please private message me.
Please re-blog this if you can as Tumblr seems to hide posts with links in.
I’ve decided to begin a monthly newsletter to list happenings in the fandom, now thru Jan (*cough* *cough* copyright), because honestly … there’s a lot going on!! P.S. This newsletter will be inclusive of everything SHERLOCK (not only BBC!):
Events:
JUNE is PRIDE MONTH!ShareQUEER positivity and love! I’ll be re-blogging works from my first crash course in the fandom! (#I am pridelockedby@ohlooktheresabee xoxo) I am not posting a challenge this year, but I know there are several!! I’m following all of you instead! Tag me anytime!
RUPERT GRAVES BIRTHDAY PROJECT!Annual event for charity, culminating June 30th ! Last year was The Trevor Project! Not sure what charity it is yet 2022? Follow & tags on social media to find out!#rupert graves birthday project //@rupertgravesbirthdayproject//
HOLMESCON 2023(Fan Con) is coming up! Hotels and tickets are available to book NOW (June 4th 2022)!! In prep for next AUG 11th-13th 2023! To London!!! Hope to see you all there! Follow & tag #holmescon//@holmescon
HOLMESTICE(A Holmsian Solstice)Going on NOW! A BUNCH of prompt requests came in! Make one!? Fulfill one! (or three? ) No limits! More than one gift is welcome per prompt. All for fun, and all for love! Open gifting this round (no assignments - see what inspires!). #holmestice//@holmestice
All Sherlock (not limited to BBC or ACD holmes).Be sure to link or reply there to let your recipient know you made them a gift! Hosted on Dreamwidth.There will be another round for gift-exchange in the fall!
SHERLOCK CHALLENGE//Monthly prompts to fill any way you like! All forms of fan works welcome! JUN PROMPT: MOVE#sherlock challenge//@sherlockchallenge//
FLASH FIC FRIDAY//Weekly friday mystery prompt! Write 100-1000 words (text post) Any topic! Any fandom! This is an open and inclusive event. #flash fic friday//@flashfictionfridayofficial//
FLUFFBRUARY // You thought it was over in feb??! Hah! The 14th of Every month is fair game for fluff! #fluffbruary//@fluffbruary//
2022 YEAR OF THE CRACK FICCHALLENGE! // This year only, I was inspired to find some humour (and not just angst!) in fics and thought this would be fun for the Year of the Tiger! Haha // Accepting crack fics now thru Dec 31st! Have a cracked idea?? Write it! Win art by helloliriels! // #2022 Year of the Crack Fic // (more than one entry is welcome! Any length, any rating!) AO3 ‘2022_crack_fix’!
Media:
THREE PATCH PODCAST//Listen to their latest episode! #132: Queerantine a Pride episode! Queer media has grown by leaps and bounds during the pandemic. Join them as they talk about favorite new things to watch, listen, or read! //#three patch podcast//@threepatchpodcast//
I HEAR OF SHERLOCK EVERYWHEREpodcast featured on Spotify hosts all kinds of Sherlock topics from ACD Canon and pastiche to popular Media versions. I’ve barely dipped my toes in so far … so I can’t guarantee the content! Listener advisory.
A BETTER STORYrebs of TJLC Explained is back (YouTube) with a 7 part series - to go over everything that happened and why and how we can regain a sense of understanding from it. Well worth a view! And SO much packed into every episode!!! Also FROM A DROP OF WATER a fanfic by @victorianpining with a 'what could have been’ fix. So much lovefor sharing both of these with us!!! #a better story//#tjlc explained
Looking for other Sherlock Media? We have several discord servers running (feel free to reply with yours to join!), fan fic clubs, the Johnlock Podfic Club and more! Will try to highlight more each month.
Did we miss any upcoming fandom events?? Know there’s more, and it continually surprises! Send a link if there’s another June happening or recurring event to credit!!! I have events stashed up for EVERY month it seems! ✌️ I’ll add!
I will also be including a page for the newsletter on my blog (or considered sharing a PDF? would that be helpful?) for those of you who want to mark your calendars! xoxo - Liri
JUNE UPDATE! 6/11 since there is more going on and then some!
CHANCE OR CHESS?-a BBC Sherlock and TJLC podcast started up in Nov, 4 eps. up, hosted on Spotify and Apple and many other places! This one focuses on the Johnlock theory and is fantastic! #chance or chess//@chanceorchesspod//
LETTERS FROM WATSON- a 'Dracula Daily’ type email for sherlock fans ((winning!!) *honestly i hope its so similar! GIMME*) is in the works! Sign up now to keep informed of updates! Bahaha! So great! #letters from watson//@jabbage // ty for doing this!!!
THE JOHNLOCK PODFIC CLUB-is back! We’re looking for more podficcers to join us in adding to the growing collection! I have stepped in as admin for both the SoundCloud library: johnlock-podfic-club and @johnlockpodficclub page! DM me if you have a recording to upload & share! Or if you want to find out more!
Tagging moar peeps! Since tumbles limits to 50 (feel free to tag and add to this list for June!) Any fic chats or discords open let us know!
Cases: NO TIME FOR REAL CASES. THERE’S PORN ON THE HORIZON. (Either story begins just after a case, or incorporates a few legit-sounding details.)
Anderson: Not usually in story but inevitably mentioned with appropriate scorn.
Mycroft: Usually either very for or very against Johnlock. Either way he’s kinkily watching the CCTV.
Tea: Everyone drinks at least half their body weight in tea during the course of a story. Even drabbles. You see that 800-word story? 400 of those words deal with making tea.
Milk: Getting the milk is a thing. It’s practically a euphemism at this point. If Sherlock gets the milk, he’s DTF. Or apologizing, and then offering his body as an extra form of apologetic-ness.
Mrs. Hudson: Ships Johnlock like a beast. Hell, she usually has some kind of Johnlockfucking-sense. She just KNOWS when they’re hooking up and is determined to facilitate this/make it kind of embarrassing for them in a cute way.
Mummy Holmes: For not actually being in the show, she’s surprisingly mentioned a lot. She’s everything from a horrid bitch to actually a really loving rich lady who somehow just has these two weirdo sons.
Moran: Ditto, kind of. Moran is sometimes a woman, sometimes a man, sometimes seduces Moriarty/John/Sherlock/all of the above. Also somehow capable of holding 7 laser pointers I mean snipers in TGG.
Jumpers: JOHN WEARS JUMPERS ALL THE DAYS AND SHERLOCK SECRETLY LIKES IT.
Boredom: The best way to cure Sherlock’s boredom to sex him vigorously. Or somehow get him hooked on James Bond and/or Doctor Who.
Sexytiems: This is the fun part. There is so much beautiful variation here. John is everything from secretly gay, to comfortably bisexual, to not even really wanting to fuck Sherlock but kind of wanting to anyway. Likewise, Sherlock is everything from purely virginal, to wholeheartedly asexual, to secretly shagging half of London for a case. Their sex ranges from WE ARE GODS OF LOVEMAKING to it goes where?
Common Situations: Being outed at crime scenes, very thorough medical investigations, post-case-compulsion-to-fuck, the Scotland Yard has a betting pool, heartfelt realizations during kidnapping, gratuitous casual high-functioning sociopath nudity.
Violin: Totally a euphemism. He took dat bow in his hand like some kind of musical god slut and handled it with sexual precision.
AUs: Dude, I don’t even understand this crazy shit. There’s wings and cats and Greek alphabet letters thrown all over the place.
Genderswap: Love it, but it’s really funny because we never know what to call Sherlock other than Sherlock. Sherlock…ina? Sherlockette? Dafuq.
Avengers: They show up a lot, somehow. I think it’s because we’re all from tumblr and Hiddles is love.
Conclusion: I fucking love this fandom never change.
I’ve decided to begin a monthly newsletter to list happenings in the fandom, now thru Jan (*cough* *cough* copyright), because honestly … there’s a lot going on!! P.S. This newsletter will be inclusive of everything SHERLOCK (not only BBC!):
Events:
JUNE is PRIDE MONTH!ShareQUEER positivity and love! I’ll be re-blogging works from my first crash course in the fandom! (#I am pridelockedby@ohlooktheresabee xoxo) I am not posting a challenge this year, but I know there are several!! I’m following all of you instead! Tag me anytime!
RUPERT GRAVES BIRTHDAY PROJECT!Annual event for charity, culminating June 30th ! Last year was The Trevor Project! Not sure what charity it is yet 2022? Follow & tags on social media to find out!#rupert graves birthday project //@rupertgravesbirthdayproject//
HOLMESCON 2023(Fan Con) is coming up! Hotels and tickets are available to book NOW (June 4th 2022)!! In prep for next AUG 11th-13th 2023! To London!!! Hope to see you all there! Follow & tag #holmescon//@holmescon
HOLMESTICE(A Holmsian Solstice)Going on NOW! A BUNCH of prompt requests came in! Make one!? Fulfill one! (or three? ) No limits! More than one gift is welcome per prompt. All for fun, and all for love! Open gifting this round (no assignments - see what inspires!). #holmestice//@holmestice
All Sherlock (not limited to BBC or ACD holmes).Be sure to link or reply there to let your recipient know you made them a gift! Hosted on Dreamwidth.There will be another round for gift-exchange in the fall!
SHERLOCK CHALLENGE//Monthly prompts to fill any way you like! All forms of fan works welcome! JUN PROMPT: MOVE#sherlock challenge//@sherlockchallenge//
FLASH FIC FRIDAY//Weekly friday mystery prompt! Write 100-1000 words (text post) Any topic! Any fandom! This is an open and inclusive event. #flash fic friday//@flashfictionfridayofficial//
FLUFFBRUARY // You thought it was over in feb??! Hah! The 14th of Every month is fair game for fluff! #fluffbruary//@fluffbruary//
2022 YEAR OF THE CRACK FICCHALLENGE! // This year only, I was inspired to find some humour (and not just angst!) in fics and thought this would be fun for the Year of the Tiger! Haha // Accepting crack fics now thru Dec 31st! Have a cracked idea?? Write it! Win art by helloliriels! // #2022 Year of the Crack Fic // (more than one entry is welcome! Any length, any rating!) AO3 ‘2022_crack_fix’!
Media:
THREE PATCH PODCAST//Listen to their latest episode! #132: Queerantine a Pride episode! Queer media has grown by leaps and bounds during the pandemic. Join them as they talk about favorite new things to watch, listen, or read! //#three patch podcast//@threepatchpodcast//
I HEAR OF SHERLOCK EVERYWHEREpodcast featured on Spotify hosts all kinds of Sherlock topics from ACD Canon and pastiche to popular Media versions. I’ve barely dipped my toes in so far … so I can’t guarantee the content! Listener advisory.
A BETTER STORYrebs of TJLC Explained is back (YouTube) with a 7 part series - to go over everything that happened and why and how we can regain a sense of understanding from it. Well worth a view! And SO much packed into every episode!!! Also FROM A DROP OF WATER a fanfic by @victorianpining with a 'what could have been’ fix. So much lovefor sharing both of these with us!!! #a better story//#tjlc explained
Looking for other Sherlock Media? We have several discord servers running (feel free to reply with yours to join!), fan fic clubs, the Johnlock Podfic Club and more! Will try to highlight more each month.
Did we miss any upcoming fandom events?? Know there’s more, and it continually surprises! Send a link if there’s another June happening or recurring event to credit!!! I have events stashed up for EVERY month it seems! ✌️ I’ll add!
I will also be including a page for the newsletter on my blog (or considered sharing a PDF? would that be helpful?) for those of you who want to mark your calendars! xoxo - Liri
So, I’m super disappointed that I didn’t manage to finish my current fic in time for today (it’s not set on Valentine’s Day, but has a Cupid theme!). In my own defence, I came down with shingles and I’ve had no energy, either physically or emotionally, for really anything. However! The fic IS coming along and the end is very much in sight at this point! I’m always afraid to give timeline promises, but I thiiiink I should be able to finish it this week or early into next week???? It’s at 23,700 words now!
