moriarty's daughter

Being Mycroft’s Daughter Would Include

Requested by anon

  • Baking him cakes, when he has time he sometimes, maybe helps you
  • Having a rebellious teenage phase because Mycroft wouldn’t know how to stop a teenage girl from not doing that. He’d have no idea what to do when you were a teenager (especially 14-17) so this would be the stage in your life when you were furthest apart.
  • Mycroft would forgive you for most of these rebellions, but if you ever smoked, he’d be furious, because he’d know how much that inconvenience’s people.
  • You’d be a complete smartass, just as smart as him. You’d remind Mycroft of Sherlock so you would occaisonally drive him mad. However, Mycroft would constantly worry you and him would become like Sherlock and Mycroft, and hardly ever talk, so for this reason he would try so hard with you.
  • “You’re acting like your Uncle. Stop it.”
    “You say that like it’s a bad thing.”
  • You’d be spoiled by your Grandparents, who assume that Mycroft, knowing him, doesn’t spoil you enough. In truth, he spoils you quite a bit.
  • When/if you started dating, Mycroft would be a very protective father, because no one was good enough for you in his eyes. 
  • Sherlock would love you, although he hated you as a child. But once you grew up and he realised how intelligent and interesting you were, Sherlock would love you.
  • Obviously you’d help Sherlock on cases, because Mycroft often didn’t have time for you when you were older and you would get bored.
  • “Sherlock! She’s too young to be involved in your dangers.”
    “Oh and I suppose at her age we weren’t getting involved in dangerous activites at all.”
    “She’s my daughter!”
    “She’s my niece!”
    “Father trumps Uncle.”
  • When Moriarty came on the scene however, both Sherlock and Mycroft would agree that you had to stay out of it. Mycroft would even go as far as to employ bodyguards for you. You would inevitably escape these bodyguards however and because Mycroft had put so much protection on you, Moriarty would have got interested in you. This put you in a lot of danger.
  • Once you were safe, Mycroft would tell you how proud he was of you, and how much he worries about you. He’d tell you that he knows you’re older now, but he sometimes forget’s you’re not the little four-year-old dressed as a pirate princess anymore.

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Sherlock's Daughter: The Break Up

Originally posted by sherlockspeare

Gif not mine.

Request from @bunnyboar : can u write about sherlock’s daughter? i love ur blog

A/N: Thank you so much! I hope you like it. x

Warnings: swearing.



That bastard. He dumped you in the most embarrassing way. You were in dinner with your best friend when Dylan walked up to you with his friends and he told you that he only went out with you because you were the daughter of Sherlock Holmes. He proceeded to tell you that you were not anything special and you disappointed him. This broke your heart. You thought you actually meant something but you only made people think of you as the daughter of a great detective. You loved your father dearly however you were not like him. You could not analyse someone in five seconds or deduce a crime scene. A disappointment. That was what you were. To yourself, John, Uncle Mycroft, your family, your other friends, and your own father.

 

You were walking home from school to 221B and you were wiping the tears from your eyes. The only personality trait you received from your father was his bad luck in love.

“Hello Y/N,” John said cheerily. He had just walked out of the flat and was shutting the door. His smile immediately turned into a frown as he saw your expression. “What is it?”

“Go away!” You yelled at him and flung open the door before storming into the flat. You loved John and he was like a second father to you but he was in the wrong place at the wrong time so he was met by your rage. You were wrong. You had also inherited your father’s fiery temper.

“Hello dear!” Said Mrs Hudson, who had just given Sherlock his tea. You gave her the silent treatment and went into your room. You didn’t even acknowledge your father.

 

You threw yourself down on your bed and cried into the sheets. At this point, you didn’t really care as much about the break up itself. You just hated the comments an assumptions made against you. You also hated the fact that you were a disappointment to your father. There was a knock at your door.

“Y/N,” Said your father.

Silence.

“Y/N open the door.”

Again, there was no reply.

“Y/N! I will not ask you again.” He was getting mad now. You still refused to talk to him. He rolled his eyes. “Girl problems,” He muttered to himself before opening the door and sitting on the side of your bed.

“Go away,” You told him.

“No,” He replied.

“Dylan broke up with you and dumped you in an embarrassing way.”

“You are correct.”

“I always am. He wasn’t worth it. He’s an idiot and does not deserve you.”

You smiled and sat up. “I fucking hate him.”

“Language, Y/N.”

“Shit sorry.”

He chuckled. “Apologise to Mrs Hudson and John.”

“Why? You’re always horrible to them.”

“Yes but that’s me. What else is it? Something else is bothering you.”

You sighed. “I’m not smart like you. I’m not talented and I’m just plain boring. I’m looked down upon for not being like you and I’m a disgrace. You’re disappointed with me. You hated it when I couldn’t deduce the crime scene. Don’t deny it because I saw the look on your face. You refused to take me on a case after that.”

He chuckled and then burst out into laughter.

“What?” You yelled at him.

“Oh my dear Y/N. How wrong you are. You are very smart despite the fact that you may not be able to deduce your way out of a paper bag.” You glared at him. “I wasn’t disappointed with you. I was surprised at first then I was happy. Happy that you were not like me. Everyone would hate it if you were like me. I’m horrible! I refused to take you on another case because I could see that you were upset with yourself. I didn’t want that to happen again. The only solution was to not take you. And I took you on many cases with me when you were a baby in a pram. Everyone else hated me for it. Look, if anyone has a problem with you then they will have to speak with me.”

“So you don’t hate me?”

“How could I hate you? You’re my daughter!” He pulled you into a hug. “I love you Y/N.”

“I love you too dad.”

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Sherlock Holmes on Elementary is definitely a jerk. But he’s also a good person with a deep sense of empathy. Let’s explore how Elementary fits into the legacy of Holmes Adaptions, and how the character is depicted in these complex, contradictory ways.

Transcript below the cut

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Moriarty’s Daughter

Ok ok, I have a little story to tell. 


Moriarty goes on another undercover mission thing. He ends up getting a girl pregnant, without knowing it, and leaves her the day after. When the child is born it is a girl. The girl grows up and is super smart, like father like daughter. When she is 13 she accidentally stumbles upon none other than Mr. Sherlock Holmes. He is immediately taken with her and acts as if she is his daughter, not knowing of her origins. When Moriarty finds out about this new weakness of Sherlock’s he digs a little deeper on the girl, and discovers that he is the father. Eventually after a long marry-go-round of intellectual battles, and codes, they eventually all meet somewhere. Moriarty pulls his usual tricks, and has snipers on them from every angle. Sherlock, having found out about the girl’s past, tries to reason with Moriarty and tells him that he doesn’t want to kill his own daughter. Moriarty says he is right and calls off the snipers. He then proceeds to look Sherlock right in the eye as he whips out a gun and shoots the girl himself. He leaves Sherlock in tears, clutching the girl’s body, severing any chance of Sherlock having that kind of relationship again, and thus the heart burning begins.  

Female Holmes Moodboard

Based off this post

I do not own the images apart from the text

4

Request by Anonymous: Can you please do imagine being Mycroft’s daughter who is kidnapped by Moriarty and Mycroft has to come and save you.

Imagine being Mycroft’s daughter, but than being kidnapped by Moriarty and Mycroft comes and saves you.

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Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Warnings: gore, self-harmslight cursing & well it’s Moriarty, 

Gifs aren’t mine.


“No! Shut up!” you screamed at your father, Mycroft as tears streamed down your face. “Do you even care about me? You’re always working and you never pay attention to me,” you sobbed into your hands.

Mycroft looked at you with a sad down while trying to approach you, but you backed away and looked up at him. 

“I hate you!” you screamed at him and ran out of the room down a few halls and soon out the door, but not before grabbing a coat and opening the front doors and slamming them shut to signal that you had left.

You walked down the street and towards the nearest bus station. Since you didn’t have any money on you to pay for a taxi, you decided bus was the best option. You sat down waiting for the bus no one else was there and you were grateful for that since tears were still slowly flowing down your cheeks. 

Soon the bus had arrived and you got on walking straight all the way to the back. The bus wasn’t a double decker bus that are so famously known in London. It was just a simple bus that can be found around the world, but strangely no one else was in the bus either. You just shrugged it off as nothing and laid your head on the cold window sill while looking at all the cars, people, and places you were pacing by.

Theses arguments always happened between Mycroft and you, and yes, sometimes it did seem like Mycroft’s work was more important than you. He always tried his hardest to show you he was there for you and loved you, but he always had trouble showing affection just like his brother, Sherlock. Speaking of Sherlock that’s where you were going. You always went to your uncles house if you got into an argument with your father and you both would sit in his living room while talking about what an ass Mycroft is.

You sighed and sat up straight seeing as your stop was coming up, but when the bus passed it you just looked confused. You always took this bus and it always stopped there. You sighed and stood up walking to the front of the bus.

“Sir,” you started politely, “I think you missed my stop.” You honestly weren’t in the mood for these kinds of mistakes today, but you were hopping the bus drive would just apologize and turn around without any fuss.

“Oh I know that,” was all the bus driver said. you stared in confusion for a half second than rage and fear consumed you, but before you could complain and scream the drivers head off the buss speed up and took a sharp turn. You fell onto one of the seats from the sudden movement.

“What the hell?!” you yelled at him only for the bus to come to a sudden stop infant of a warehouse. By now you had realized you had gotten kidnapped, and it also wouldn’t be the first or last time this has happened. You being Mycroft’s daughter was dangerous since people would always use you for leverage, but you always easily escaped or your father or uncle and sometimes John would come and rescue you.

The bus’ doors opened with a small creak. You sighed standing up, but before you could even try running out of the front of the bus two guys entered the bus ready to capture you.

You quickly turned around before they even stepped onto the bus and ran to the end of the bus trying to open the back door and with success you opened it. You jumped down from the bus and started to run only for other men dressed in black to block your exit you ran the other way, but soon realized the two guys and bus driver were blocking your exit. You looked around trying to find a way to escape only to see the bus, the warehouse a rode and woods. Where the hell were you?! London does’t have a forest anywhere near it.

Before you even realized what was happening one of the men grabbed you from behind and had a cloth in their other and which was most likely drenched in chloroform. The man put the cloth over your nose and mouth so you would only be able to inhale the chloroform. You tried holding your breath, but soon you couldn’t hold it anymore and you took in a fast breaths only for you to pass out.

Mycroft sighed as he went into his office and sat down in his office chair he sighed and slumped down in it. He honestly hated these arguments between the two of you. He was just always busy and never had time to really bond with you, and you were always closed off and more times than once he has found cut marks on your wrists from self harm, but after a few month you had stopped. But it was probably because Sherlock and John had talked to you about it and tried to help you with your problem. Mycroft always hated how his brother was always closer to you, and he never understood why. His brother was even less affectionate than him!

Mycroft held his head in his hands thinking about how to make it up to you. He sighed once again and took out his phone unlocking it and than he called his brother. He knew you always went to your uncle’s house when the two of you got into a fight or argument.

“Hello?” came John’s voice from the other end of the line.

“Hello John, i was wondering if (y/n) was there,” Mycroft said knowing the reason Sherlock wasn’t answering his phone was because he was either talking to you or solving a case with you.

“Sorry Mycroft, but (y/n) didn’t come over. Did you two get into another argument again?” John asked, but Mycroft just ended the call since he came to the quick conclusion that you had gotten kidnapped, again. Now he only had to figure out who kidnapped you and where did they take you.

You opened your eyes slowly with your eyes adjusting to the light only to find yourself in an elegant room. It actually looked like a large court room.

You looked around some more to see a bunch of men and women sitting around, but all of them were tide up and gaged and some of them had slight bruises or dried blood on them. Probably from fighting back your captors or just simply annoying them.

“Oh, I see your awake,” came a fake cheerful voice laced with a Scottish accent.

“Who the hell are you?” you asked the man glaring into his brown orbs, but instead of answering you he just chuckled.

“No that’s not how we play this game. I ask the questions,” he told you stroking towards you and standing about a meter or two away from you.

“I don’t think that’s fair,” was all you said not breaking eye contact with him.

“Your right, but life’s not either,” he said in a sing song voice. Great, he’s a psychopath you grumbled in your head as your glare intensified.

“Well could you at least tell me why I’m here or get me some water or something?” you asked him getting pissed at not just the Scottish man, but basically your entire day was just miserable.

“Only if you give me informat-” “No.” You said cutting him off. “You don’t even know what I was going to say.” He said pouting. “No is my answer.” Was all you said as you laid back into the chair you were tied down to. “You know it’s rude to cut people off,” the Scottish man said with a slight frown. “Well I think you know my uncle isn’t the politest person so blame him for my rudeness not me,” you retorted.

“Fine,” was all he said which surprised you since he seemed like a man who wouldn’t stop till you gave him the information he wanted. “I’ll just force it out of you than.” 

Two men walked up behind you and one untied you and when you were free the other one held you so you couldn’t escape. They started to lead you towards the exit, but you kicked the guy behind you in his most sensitive area. and turned around and kicked the other guys’ shins. You started to run towards the exit only to suddenly have a searing pain go through your leg. You screamed in agony as you fell to the floor you held your arms out to stop you from hitting your head on the ground. You turned around to look at your leg only to see it bleeding. Tears welled up in your eyes at the agonizing pain. You bit your lip trying to hold back the tears which had actually worked.

“Oh and the information I want is any secrets about Sherlock or Mycroft Holmes, and even if you don’t tell me anything you’ll still be a great use of leverage,” the man chuckled bringing his fingers under your chin and lifting your head up to see his wide smile which was basically screaming maniac, but that was also the last thing you saw before blacking out.

Soon you had woken up again only to find yourself in a sketchy room like the ones in horror films where people get take to be torcheres. You had no clue what time it was, but you knew it never took Mycroft this long to local your captors so now you were completely in fear of your life. You were chained up to a wall and were shot in the leg and it’s either that the man who kidnapped you is a very good criminal or it’s that Mycroft actually doesn’t care about you. The second reason for Mycroft not being here yet made you start to sob and lay back onto the wall while drowning yourself in your tears.

This happened for three days straight, well you though it was three days you couldn’t reply tell time in here, but now you were covered in bruises and cuts, but the tears wouldn’t stop flowing. Every day atlas five different men would come in and beat you half to death with some new torched device. You’re throat was soar of screaming and you honestly didn’t think you could speak anymore, but atlas you got fed and got water to so you wouldn’t die of starvation or dehydration. How nice you thought with complete sarcasm.

You laid your head onto the wall sighing knowing that your father won’t come for you this time.

After a few minutes of sitting in almost complete darkness besides the light coming from a dying light bulb. The door to the room started to open slightly letting in more light with it you squinted your eyes to see who your next tormenter would be only to see Mycroft walking in. Your eyes widened and blinked to see if you were hallucinating or not, but you weren’t it was really your father.

“Dad?” your voice cracked and it took you all your energy to even lift up your arms to rattle the chains that stopped you from escaping.

Mycroft quickly rushed over to you and somehow got you out of your restraints. Your arms rapped around him when you got free and he hugged you back. It was an odd behavior of him, but you could care less. You cried into hi shoulder as he tried to sooth you.

“I thought you gave up on me,” You sobbed out clutching onto your father harder like he was just an illusion and he would disappear if you even loosened your hold for just a little bit he’s vanish into thin air.

“I would never. I’ll always find you, always.” Mycroft told you rubbing your back in a soothing way with a few tears falling down hi face.

“I’m sorry, I’m so so sorry” you sobbed harder, “I don’t hate you, I love you,” you told him sniffing now.

For the first time in a long time Mycroft Holmes actually smiled, “I love you too,” Mycroft replied back gently while kissing the top of your head.

3

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Gifs not mine.

consultinghippogriff said: could you please do a oneshot where the reader is mycroft’s daughter and he helps her through a panic attack. I understand if you don’t want to because it can be triggering. Thanks :)

Warnings: panic attack.


It was days like today when you witnessed what horrors the human race could do. A woman had poisoned her husband and slit the throats of her two children. Sherlock, your uncle, could tell that you had felt uncomfortable but he didn’t bring it up. You’d made a deduction on the case as well but it was completely wrong and that received laughs from the rest of Scotland Yard. Sherlock shook his head and you thought he was disappointed. You weren’t as smart as the Holmes siblings which often led you to feel insecure about yourself and your abilities.

 

 

Sherlock had offered to walk you home but you kindly turned him down. You needed to be alone. However, that was a mistake. Your thoughts began to consume you and then turned into a hurricane tearing down your sanity. The colour drained from you face as you remembered the two children staring at you with their eyes glazed over as a crimson liquid spilled from the slash in their throats. Your mind then skipped to the cackles from the police force and they echoed in your mind. Your breathing became fast and the tears from your eyes left your cheeks burning. Your heart pounded like a drum in your chest and you felt that you would collapse or be violently sick. You shook like a leaf as the cold wind ripped around you and those walking past seemed to stare at the fragile being stumbling down the road to home. Your house seemed like the beacon of light in the darkness you were stuck in. 

 

 

“Y/N,” Mycroft said as you walked through the living room. His face automatically dropped as he saw the state you were in. He recognised the symptoms of a panic attack and instantly deduced why. “What did Sherlock do? Why are you so insecure?” You burst into another fit of sobs so your father walked over to you and hugged you.

“Dad…” You began but your voice cracked.

“Shh. Y/N I’m going to sit you down.” Although Mycroft was still clueless with human emotion, he had learned a bit. Especially when you came into his life. He read up on panic attacks and other things like that in case he never needed it; like now. He sat you down on the sofa. “Y/N, we need to try and get your breathing to a normal pace.” He tried some breathing exercises with you and that somewhat helped. “There is nothing to be afraid of.”

“I’m sorry dad.”

“For what?”

“All of this! I’m not like you or Uncle Sherlock. I feel emotion and I’m not as clever and-”

“Shh, you’ll start panicking again. And is that what you had been scared of?”

You nodded.

“You don’t have to be us. Quite frankly, I’m glad you’re not.” He sighed. “Please don’t feel like you have to be something you’re not.”

“I love you dad.”

“I love you too.”

3

Requested by anon: 

Imagine. Moriarty threatening you and Sherlock, your dad, gets overprotective. 

It had taken Sherlock exactly 4 hours from the sms was sent to track down Moriarty and interrogate him. “So she told her daddy? Too bad, I thought more of her.” Moriarty eyed Sherlock. “She didn’t tell me anything, she was planning to take care of it herself, but as a dad..” Moriarty started laughing before yelling: “Listen to yourself. You’ve become weak!” He looked at Moriarty. The anger boiled in him before he hit Moriarty with all he had. “

A fathers love (Father!Moriarty x daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

A fathers love (Father!Moriarty x Daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

Request: Can I request an one-shot where reader is Moriarty’s daughter; she is dating a boy, who is a secret child of Sherlock and unknown women and they are both hiding it from parents but the secret is somehow revealed? :) I’d love to read it xoxo - Anon

Writer: Jupiter

Paring: Father!Moriarty x Daughter!reader x Sherlocks son

Warning: None, really. Some kissing, is that even a warning?

Summary: Reader has a hard time being the child of the world’s most dangerous criminal, since he is often away. Then she meets Hamish, the son of the world’s only consulting detective, and they end up falling for each other. Things go well, until Moriarty finds out…

Author’s note: Hello world of Tumblr! Finally, I got time to write a request… And now I really want to see an episode of Sherlock in which Sherlock has got a son and has to deal with him… I hope you guys like this. Also: New layout!


Being the daughter of the world’s most dangerous consultive criminal wasn’t an easy thing. Sure, it had its perks. For example, you never missed out on anything. If you needed something, whether it would be something simple as new shoes or something slightly more difficult like bracelet of the queen of Scotland, you only had to give a shout and one of your father’s little ants would come crawl towards you and hand you it. Besides that, you also had inherited your father’s clever mind and skilful way of thinking, which came in handy from time to time.

But at the other side, there were some downfalls…

A normal life wasn’t something you had ever know. Yes, you lived in a huge house other for which other people would murder someone for, and you got every physical object your heart ever desired for and you knew that was more than some other people would ever have, but you had soon realised money couldn’t buy anything. It couldn’t fill the empty space you felt in your heart, as your father told you he wouldn’t be home for a long time once again because had something to take care of in a place far, far away from you. Because yes, you might be the daughter of the feared James Moriarty himself, but that did not chance the fact that you were a teenager who needed her father at her side, especially since your mother had died when you were only a baby. And that was a part you missed, sometimes.

And then there was the fact that whenever you would tell people your name, your real name, they would crumble in fear. Because you, (Y/n) Moriarty, was someone who should be feared, or who people thought should be feared. And even though they sometimes tried to hide it, whether it were random people or the workers of your father, you would always see right through their facade. You didn’t need to have a sharp nose to smell their fear, their eyes already spoke the words their mouths didn’t say. And at those moments, you wished you could be normal. No, not normal. Anything except that. But sometimes, you wished there was sometimes who wouldn’t look at you like you were a lion that could consume anyone with her sharp teeth, but who would see you like you really were. Someone who would understand you, who would listen, when no one else was there.

And that was when you met him.


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Kidnapped; Moriarty X Reader

Requested by kippenhunger

Could you do an Moriarty x Reader Oneshot, where the reader is Sherlocks Daughter and Moriarty takes her as a hostage and then they fall in love? (You can work on the outlines, I’m not good at stuff like that.)


You sat in a dark room unsure of your surroundings with the faint scent of expensive of cologne. You were sitting on a bed trying to calm yourself down. “Okay, what’s the last thing you remember?” you asked yourself.

You remember sitting on a park bench rereading your favorite book. Suddenly there was a man who in retrospect looked too nice for a stroll through the park. He took a seat next to you and tried to make pleasant conversation about your book.

Eventually he got up to go and after a while you got a text from your father, Sherlock Holmes, to come back to Baker Street. You got up, you remembered, and began walking the London streets when rapidly you were thrown inside a nearby car and the world around you went black.

Tears raced down your face as you thought about your current situation. All you wanted was to be back home with your father and John. You heard footsteps gradually getting closer to your room and you closed your eyes.

The door creakily opened and the same man from before walked in but abruptly stopped at the sound of your crying. “What’s wrong, my dear?” the man asked.

You looked up at him with vengeance and anger written all over your face. “In case you forgot I was abducted a couple of hours ago and trapped in a strange room,” you spit out.

“Strange? Yes. Trapped? Why of course not. You can leave at any time,” he told you.

“Then why bring me here in the first place?” you asked him, finally calming down and now you just wanted answers.

“I’m an acquaintance of your father and nothing would please me more than for him to think his precious little daughter is gone. I like to think of bothering him as a hobby of mine.”

“Great, we have something in common.” A comfortable silence filled the room before he decided to speak up.

“We could make it our little project, if you wished,” he offered.

You took a moment to ponder his proposal. Sherlock had been nothing but cold for basically your whole life. This would be the best kind of torture for him and if he didn’t care than you just got a one-way ticket out of his life. “Deal.”

“Jim Moriarty, by the way,” he said, extending his hand.

“Y/N Holmes. But you already knew that,” you commented, sealing your deal with a handshake.

Months drifted by and you grew accustomed to your new life with Jim. Sherlock didn’t pose any problems as he didn’t seem to try to find you. Things were slowing down at Jim’s flat and the two of you were getting closer which made everything a lot easier.

You were currently cleaning up the flat when you heard Jim walk through the front door. “Y/N?” he called.

“I’m in here,” you responded. Jim wandered down the hallway towards the bedroom you were currently cleaning. “Did you have a good-“ you began to ask but seeing the flowers in Jim’s hands stopped you. “What are those?”

“Well they’re actually for you. You’ve been a real help to have around these last couple of months and I just want to thank you…” Jim told you nervously showing a vulnerable side you hadn’t seen before.

“Oh thanks Jim I’ve really-“

“I also wanted to tell you that I love you,” he said.

His words took you off guard. Did he really just say that? You realized you were probably silent for far too long. But what were you going to say? Did you love him back? This had taken you so off guard.

“You don’t have to say anything back I just-“ Jim started before you ran up to him and cut him off. Your lips raced over his and he gladly joined in. You gently pulled away and looked into his eyes.

“I love you too,” you told him, leaning down one more time to steal another kiss.

3

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wynneinrome said:                                                           

Hey! Could you do a Sherlock x reader where the reader is Sherlock’s uber sassy sister and she follows him to cases and whenever he tries to be smart she slaps him down with sass?? Sorry that probs doesn’t make a ton of sense…. but anywaaay.


“Y/N, are you listening?" A voice asked snapping you out of your daydreaming.

"Sorry what?” You replied. “I’d dozed off; you were too boring.”

Sherlock rolled his eyes. “I was describing the newest case. A man in a house had-”
“Had his throat slit however no one had entered nor exited the house. Everywhere has been searched but there had been no forced entry and all of the doors and windows were locked. I glanced over the details earlier. Lestrade had sent me them.”

“Of course he has. Well are you coming then or not?” Your brother wrapped his scarf around his neck and put his coat on.

“Obviously I’m going!” You stood up abruptly. “Why would I miss a chance to insult Scotland Yard?”

 

 

“Okay,” Donovan said to Lestrade as Sherlock lifted up the tape letting you through. “I can slightly understand why you’re letting the freak through, although it would be better if you didn’t. But why is that abnormality coming through as well. She’s not even that smart!”

“Shhh!” You exclaimed. “Donovan, can you hear that? Because if you listen closely, you can listen to the sound of me not caring.” You could hear her muttering words about you behind your back. “Honestly, Sally I hope that karma smacks you in the face before I do.”

“Excuse me?” She laughed. “What are you? Twelve?”

You gave a fake smile to her. “Yes! On a scale of one to ten.” Sherlock called you over before the argument progressed.

“Oh c'mon!” You whined. “I was on a roll!”

“You threatened to hit a police officer!” He replied.

“Yeah well… Anyway, what do you know about this case then? Come on big brother! Use your superpowers.”

“They aren’t superpowers.”

“You pretended they were when I was a child.”

“Yes but you aren’t a child anymore.”

“No but I’m still your sister.”

“Moving on, the crime scene!” He turned his back on you and walked into the house.

 

 

“So I suspect that the trapdoor leads into the neighbours house,” Sherlock told everyone who was present.

“Well I hope you’re right,” Lestrade responded.

“I don’t,” You stated. "His ego doesn’t need inflating any further.“ You received a glare from Sherlock.

"Surely we would have found this door beforehand though, wouldn’t we?” A forensic pathologist asked. “My opinion, is that you’re a psychopath that committed the murder himself. That is why you planned the murder and know where everything is.” It was obvious that he’d been speaking to Anderson or Donovan beforehand.

“Well my opinion is that you’re a idiot,” Sherlock snapped. "Also, I am a high functioning sociopath not a psychopath.“

"Well my opinion is that nobody cares!” You told your brother. “Oh wait, that is a fact.”

“If you aren’t going to help, can you please get out?”

“Certainly. I was hoping that I could leave soon. I was being crushed by the weight of your self esteem. If anyone wanted to kill someone, then they could just throw someone off of your ego. It’s high enough to kill someone.” You turned on your heel as Sherlock continued with his deductions. You began to walk away but Lestrade stopped you.

“Your comments,” He said. “They knock your brother down a notch. Gets him off of his high horse. They may seem rude but they are useful. Thanks.”

“No problem,” You replied with a smile. “I always know how to beat him.”

Foreshadowing in TAB and HLV

Yes, we’ve all read the theories about Janine being related to Moriarty, but what evidence is there for that?  

Lots.

Besides their hair, eyes, skin, accent, and attraction to Sherlock Holmes, Janine has ties to another character in a different story.

“The Beekeeper’s Apprentice” is a novel written by Laurie R. King about a retired Sherlock Holmes living in Sussex Downs as a beekeeper.  He and his young detective apprentice solve a mystery concerning kidnapped children.  The villain of the end of the story is Patricia, the daughter of Moriarty. 

But what does an obscure Holmes spin-off have to do with TAB and HLV?

When Janine visits Sherlock in the hospital in HLV, she first shows him all the tabloids she’s been in and how she destroyed his image for profit.  She says she’s bought a cottage from all that money. “Where’s the cottage?” - “Sussex Downs” - “Nice” - “It’s gorgeous.  There are beehives, but I’m getting rid of those.”

While trying to name the case of the Abominable Bride with Watson in the last scene of TAB, Holmes suggests “The Monstrous Regiment” - the novel directly after “The Beekeeper’s Apprentice” by King is called “A Monstrous Regiment of Women”.

In the end credits of TAB, Janine’s last name has changed to “Donlevy”.  Patricia, Moriarty’s daughter in King’s novel, has the last name “Donleavy”.  But they misspelled that! They’re missing an “A”!  Did you notice they misspelled the word ‘captain’ in a newspaper clipping in TAB? They spelled it ‘captin’ - missing an “A”.  

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Little Becky Calls Everton

anonymous asked:

denofgeek com/uk/tv/sherlock/46250/sherlock-33-nerdy-spots-in-the-six-thatchers

Oh cool! Although I’m pretty sure fandom caught most. (oh, and I was even cited in this one! as was finalproblem! how swanky!)

THIS IS INTERESTING THO:

10. The bus/flower scene was inspired by the same thing happening in real life to a friend of Mark Gatiss called, aptly enough, Edmund Moriarty: “His daughter was very young and he’d been up all night with her and he got on the tube to White City and this very beautiful girl started smiling at him and he thought ‘Still got it!’ and he got all the way there and got to work, looked in the mirror and he had a flower in his hair and that’s what she’d been looking at” Gatiss told the audience at a December screening of the episode.

Here’s the article, under the cut!

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