#she also says she’s never heard or moriarty

[diana-daphne]

Watched the first episode of Sherlock, mom is insisting his brothers name is “Minecraft”

[alessiathepirate]

Sherlock (BBC)

CROWN JEWELS: Jim Moriarty x fem!reader

Summary: Be careful what you say - especially around a man like Jim Moriarty.

Notes: English isn't my first language. I apologize for any mistake I may have made while I wrote this short story.

I have been working on this since summer and now that it's finally done I think I'm ready to share it with you guys. I really enjoyed writing it and I hope you'll enjoy reading it.

Also a silent thank you for my friend who told me to keep going even after writer's block hit me hard. <3

Warnings: swearing

•••

Jim Moriarty likes to leave a lasting impression.

That was her first thought about him ever since she first met him - ever since she first heard him talk and saw his body language. The man talks with his whole body - especially when he's in an angry or mischievious mood -, expresses himself with his arms' and shoulders' movements and with his many different gestures. The words he uses and the way he builds up sentence after sentence makes one to stop and listen. And he can make all of that look elegant and strangely enough, gentleman-like.

No matter what he does or talks about, how many times you have already met him, he's someone who you can never get fully used to and that alone always burries that lasting impression. It causes many different feelings and thoughts about the man, making the brain work and think about him and his every little gesture and word long after he's left.

But how long can that impression last?

Long enough for her to remember their first meeting weeks after it had occurred. Long enough for her to build up a whole complicated characterization and profile of him. Long enough for her to be able to quote his words exactly as he had said them.

As she sat in her own armchair in 221B Baker Street, watching the news on the telly about Jim Moriarty himself; the remains of that well known charm of his being slowly built up the memories of their first meeting.

She was in the exact same position, sitting in her own armchair - what Sherlock and John thought she finally deserved, so she won't have to sit on the chouch or on the 'chair of shame' (as she liked to call that) when they have a case to solve -; but instead of watching the telly, she was reading, falling head first into the world of the book, enjoying the peace and quiet which occurred pretty rarely in 221B. But despite the fact that she was way too interested in whatever she was reading, she still noticed the noise of a door opening downstairs, followed by the noise of someone coming up the stairs.

She looked up from the book, picking up her bookmark as she listened to the quiet tapping as someone's shoes met with the steps. She has spent enough time in 221B to be able to differ everyone's steps: Sherlock's, John's, Mrs. Hudson's, even Lestrade's and potential clients' - but these steps didn't sound like any of those.

Sherlock was always quick as he came up, too excited about the cases he had to solve and way too happy to be free from boredom. John was either slow when he came up, looking through the letters they've got or quick and angry, done with Sherlock's new case or with the certain experiments he was doing in the flat. Mrs. Hudson's were always high pitched, Lestrade's quick and heavy as he ran upstairs and the clients' were slow, reluctant and quiet.

These steps were slow, that was true, but there was something unusual about them, about the sound when they met with the wooden staircase. These were slow and quiet, but confident and elegant - these were something new and not usual and boring.

She put her book down and looked at the door what was wide open - because no matter how many times either she or John closed it, Sherlock always left it open. They gave up pretty soon, accepting the fact that their only protection against a robbery is Mrs. Hudson and the door downstairs.

The stranger was soon standing in the doorway, looking around the flat so calmly it looked like he owned the place and he most definitely didn't even think about knocking.

He didn't look like a client. He was way too calm and confident, way too elegant to be one. No, he was something new and unique, someone who you immediately notice even in a room full of people because of the lingering elegance and confidence - because even the air changes when he steps in the room.

After looking around the flat his gaze stopped and he looked directly at her for the very first time. She held his gaze, not giving in on the sudden game, but her stomach tightened in fear, a fear she only felt when she was in a room with Sherlock Holmes, knowing he'll deduce her and know about the things she doesn't want him to know.

"Hi..." The greeting was so short and simple for a person like him, that she tilted her head a little in confusion. His voice was also slightly high pitched when he pronounced the 'I', but she quickly realized it was intentional.

"Sherlock isn't home... if he is who you are looking for." she said to him, thinking there was no way this man didn't come here to see Sherlock Holmes.

"I know. That's why I'm here."

For a moment she thought about telling him that John isn't home either, but then decided against it. He clearly isn't here to talk to John Watson. He's here to talk to her...

"I see." she looked away for a moment to think about what to do with him, but no idea came to mind. "Well then please have a seat. Although I wasn't expecting guests."

He accepted the invitation, taking a seat in Sherlock's armchair, while she tried to figure out who he was and what he wanted. Meanwhile the stranger leaned back and made himself comfortable, enjoying the situation and the fact that he is sitting in Sherlock's armchair.

He knows whose armchair he's sitting in - the realization hit her, only making the 'who is he' more interesting.

"Yes, you were." he spoke up so suddenly she had to shake her head a little.

"Excuse me?"

"You were expecting one guest or you were counting on one specific guest at least."

She looked at him again, pressuring her mind to think. He is someone important and he knows that as well. That was obvious. But important for who? Not for John. John wouldn't tolerate him at all - but Sherlock would. Sherlock would even appreciate all this act.

She tilted her head a little in realization.

"Moriarty? Good to know that now that name has a face." she noticed how his expression didn't change, even if he smiled at her realization - he was expecting it, for her to realize who he is. "May I know why you wanted to see me?"

"Just wanted to meet the ordinary people Sherlock keeps around."

"Ordinary?" she laughed. "You think ordinary people could live with Sherlock Holmes?"

"That doesn't make you less boring."

"Nor does it make you less annoying." she quickly answered, leaving the annoyance out of her voice. "Playing around with Sherlock, coming here uninvited. Next time send a message at least so I can prepare some tea."

His eyes shined up for a second as if for a short amount of time he was looking at something more interesting.

"Doesn't he annoy you? Keeping you from living on your boring, ordinary little life."

"Not really. I'm never bored at least. He keeps the boredom away."

"So loyal. Ordinary people can be so amusing, I should get myself one."

She just smiled at that.

"You really like to get under people's skin, don't you?"

"Of course I do, I mean that's the funniest part, isn't it?"

That's when she first noticed how he uses his body language when he's having fun - how his arms and shoulders are moving with him.

"I guess you're right. That can be funny, you should try it out more with Sherlock. It's enough if you play one note wrong on the violin."

But that wasn't his only memorable visit. No, all of his visits were more than memorable if she wanted to be honest. She could tell all of them apart, she could tell in which month they had accured...

He visited her many times, but he always sent her a message beforehand. A short one. Something like: 'I'm a street away dear.' or 'I hope the tea is ready.' But later on they became something more: 'I'd like to see you today.', 'I have a gift for you.' or 'You'll be out tonight.' She didn't dare to ask how he knows her number, how he knows so much about her - where she'll be, what she likes. It would've been unnecessary words and she wouldn't have gotten an answer.

So she kept her questions to herself - and she also kept their meetings for themselves. Even if Sherlock noticed the change in her behaviour and happily pointed it out, causing John to ask who she's meeting up with. Even if Mycroft pointed out that she had been out at night. Even if Mrs. Hudson nearly jumped out of her skin in happiness when both brothers accused her of dating someone.

But the most interesting one--

... the most interesting conversion they've ever had was special. Oh so very special.

He came without telling her about it beforehand, just like the first time they'd met. She was sitting in her armchair with her laptop in her lap, going through a victim's personal data to make a profile while Sherlock was too busy working on a much more interesting case. Apparently a triple suicide in one place isn't that interesting, at all.

She didn't hear him come in, but she noticed him standing in the doorway - because the door was once again, wide open. He just stood there in his Westwood suit, gloating in the fact that he had the element of surprise.

She looked up at him as she raised an eyebrow.

"You didn't call this time."

"I had business around here. I just decided to come in."

"Liar." she accused as she put the laptop aside and offered him Sherlock's armchair. "You knew they went out on a case, otherwise you wouldn't have come here. You enjoy working behind his back too much."

He took the offered seat and after he leaned back, he started to talk:

"Remember what I told you when we first met? About the loyal ordinary people?"

"Of course I do." she answered, half-offended that he thought so little of her. "You wanted to get yourself one."

"Yes, well you see dear, I changed my mind." once again, his body moved with his mood. "Maybe I shouldn't get myself an ordinary one, I mean they would bore me so easily. I think I'd be perfectly fine with a not so ordinary one."

She looked at him, trying to read him like she did so many times before that, but this time other than that smirk, she couldn't find out anything else. So she turned to examine his words, that's what was also interesting about Jim Moriarty, what he said and how he said it.

A not so ordinary one. How on Earth will he get one?

And then she realized that for Jim Moriarty, the hierarchy of the world is about ordinary and extraordinary people - and in that momemt he added the not so ordinary ones to the mix too. Even if he didn't like Sherlock, he accepted that he was like him - too clever, extraordinary. John was only, simply ordinary. Nothing more, maybe less. But he talked to her a lot. A whole lot without getting bored, without thinking about speaking to Sherlock directly so he could annoy him instead of her. He didn't gloat that he knew her and talked to her daily. For him she was middle class, she was that not so ordinary person.

She chuckled and stood up, deciding that she couldn't sit that through without moving.

"Oh no, you can't possibly think that I'd leave Sherlock for you." she shook her head in disbelief. "I mean I wouldn't be loyal, would I? What happened with loyality?"

"Ordinary people are loyal and loyality is boring." he leaned forward to pour some tea for himself, not really caring that Mrs. Hudson prepared that for John and Sherlock, and most definitely not him.

"Well then I must be really boring, because I won't just leave Baker Street."

"You don't have to leave to show you aren't loyal, darling, we've been talking for months without you telling about it to them." he leaned back again and took a sip from the tea.

"Yeah, well it's still a no thank you very much." she said as her chest rose and fell rapidly, her brain working as she thought about what he just said.

"No?"

"No. I mean why would I?" the question was left unanswered. "I'd only consider it if I'd-- own the fucking Crown Jewels."

She tried to think about something unrealistic to say, to show that her decision is unbreakable. But looking at him, she clearly chose the wrong thing.

Moriarty looked pleased instead of angry - and that grounded her into reality. She said something wrong. She could basically hear the cogs turn in his head.

"Well, in that case," he said as he got ready to leave. "I'll see you around, darling."

She was left there angry and sad, but the thing she didn't think about?

That a few days later she'd get a letter.

•••

"Goddamn it Sherlock, I told you to put the microscope away! I almost knocked it down and that's the only one we own!" she shouted as she put the said thing aside, saving it from a disaster.

"He's not home!" came the answer from John, who was sitting in his armchair watching the telly - or rather trying to find a channel worth watching.

"He's not?" she asked in disbelief. "And he went without either of us?"

"You know him. Once he wants to go somewhere he goes there with or without us."

She opened one of the cupboards to find two clean cups - the kind which hadn't met with blood, eyeballs or some kind of acid beforehand - and once she found some, she began to make some tea.

"Is the forest fruit one okay? We ran out of black tea."

"Yes, thank you."

"You owe me." she threatened jokingly. "Anything worth watching? We could watch some crime show now that Sherlock isn't here to spoil it." she offered.

"Good idea." came John's answer - she enjoyed watching shows and movies with him since he was the only normal person in the flat - him and maybe Mrs. Hudson, but even Mrs. Hudson's life was extraordinary. "One'll begin after the news."

"Fantastic." she said as she finished preparing the tea and walked into the living room with a silver tray.

And then John turned the news on - and she almost dropped the tray.

There he was. On the screen, in handcuffs as the officers took him away and he was smiling - more like grinning. It only took her a second to realize where he was - the Tower of London, where the damn Crown Jewels were kept.

God damn him. Both of them. Both Moriarty and Sherlock -- even John and Mycroft. All of them had to mess up her life and make it more exciting and interesting instead of boring. God damn her that she liked it.

The Crown Jewels. What did she say to him the last time they met? 'I'd only consider it if I'd own the fucking Crown Jewels.'

John looked surprised too. Not as much as she was, he didn't know she had been talking with the enemy. He didn't notice her shock thankfully and even if he did he must've thought it was a normal reaction.

"Moriarty-- that's Moriarty." he explained.

"I know." she said without thinking.

Before John could ask her how, she heard Mrs. Hudson call out her name from downstairs. She put the tray down quicker than usual, some tea was even spilt, and she was out of the flat in a heartbeat. She ran down the stairs, her heart beating fast.

"What is it, Mrs. Hudson? Did something happen?" she asked.

"Oh, not at all dear, it's just my hips. John was kind enough to give me some painkillers, but I couldn't really walk up the stairs right now." the woman explained with the usual enthusiasm. "But a letter arrived for you a few seconds ago. The postman must've forgotten about it in the morning."

And there it was, in Mrs. Hudson's hand. An envelope, a beige coloured one - the very elegant kind.

She took it from her quickly and just by the envelope itself she knew who sent it. The penmanship was perfect. Her name was written on it in black ink, the letters were slim and long.

"Who is it from dear?"

She tore it open, her fingers ripping the paper and she took the folded letter out. With uneven heartbeat, she began to read it:

'My dear,

I hope you'll enjoy the show I put on in the Tower, I know I'll most certainly do.

The diamonds in the envelope are from the Crown Jewels, forgive for not being able to give you the whole thing, but otherwise the police would be knocking on your door. Still, now you own parts of them. Nine diamonds to be exact, I sincerly hope all of them are in the envelope - otherwise I'll have to skin someone after my trial.

A promise is a promise. Now consider my offer. I'll pick you up at 7 p.m. as soon as I'm out.

- J. M.

P.S.: I hope I'll see you in court.'

John shouted her name from upstairs, wondering why she ran. She ignored him and looked inside the envelope.

Nine diamonds. Nine of them, some bigger than the others, were shining in it.

Mrs. Hudson saw them too and she gasped in surprise.

"Oh my, you didn't tell me you had found yourself a man dear."

"I didn't know it up until now either, Mrs. Hudson."

"What is it?" John was standing on top of the staircase, looking at them with confusion.

"She has a boyfriend." Mrs. Hudson said happily, clapping her hands together.

"She has a what?"

"I don't have a boyfriend." she argued, her eyes still on the diamonds.

"What is it then?"

She didn't know how to feel or what to feel.

Deep down she felt like a real woman. A woman someone, a very special someone, wants to court. A woman who's looked at as someone interesting, important and worth stealing for. She was flattered. Truly.

On the other hand she felt scared and confused. Jim Moriarty was still Jim Moriarty, and she was still the girl from Baker Street. With him she'll never feel completely at ease or safe, there'll always be a wall standing between them what they'll never be able to cross.

But still...

He was so interesting.

She looked up at John as she put the envelope in her pocket.

"I have a date."

Mrs. Hudson laughed in happiness.

She turned towards the stairs, her brain completely blocking John's voice out as it worked and worked, trying to figure Jim out.

Jim. He was already Jim in her head.

Then a strange question appeared in big letters in her mind like a neon sign:

Why nine?

[fancyfeathers]

William’s and Sherlock’s darlings

The Games We Play of Dust and Ash (Yandere Moriarty the Patriot Masterlist)

(A/N- this one was painful to write, I cried while writing this)

Spoilers for the Moriarty the Patriot timeskip

When Sherlock and William disappear, their darlings are left alone, because Mycroft’s darling is married off to him and she was the reporter’s best friend, and Albert is arrested and his darling has left to go see the world with her dead parent’s fortune, meanwhile Louis’ darling is still stuck with him as his life changes, which leaves William’s darling alone again…

William told her that he would never abandon her…

And now he was gone…

He kidnapped her, manipulated her, gaslit her, but he cared for her, she thinks.

Honestly she doesn’t know what to think as she now stands in an empty house, all alone, abandoned like she had been all her life. But then there is a knock at the front door and her steps echo through the empty halls as she goes to get it, and all she feels is emptiness from this empty nest. She opens the door to see an all too familiar face and a welcome one at that, the reporter, Sherlock’s darling. Both of them look at the other and they just look like they have seen hell. William’s darling has always seen this woman as a strong and independent woman but…

“…Miss Hudson said that Sherlock left me some stuff in case he… I…I can’t do this alone.”

“…Neither can I.”

Now it feels like William’s darling is looking at a mirror when looking at her friend. The two go to Baker Street together to pick of the box of the things Sherlock left his darling, it’s mostly letters he wrote to her but never sent, all the things he couldn’t make himself say, a few of her newspapers articles, some money, and a ring. The two go back to the old Moriarty estate together and just sit down together in silence which is broken by Sherlock’s darling…

“I don’t have a job anymore since I worked for Milverton’s paper and I doubt any news companies here would want to hire me since my main source is dead, I have some family in the states I was going to stay with until I am ready to start writing again-“

“Can I please come with you?”

A smile comes across the reporter’s face at her question.

“I was hoping you would.”

The two say goodbyes to whoever they can and have left and a week later they are on a boat across the ocean. It is on the voyage over when Sherlock’s darling is walking through the halls of the ship when she hears music, she follows it to one of the ship’s lounges to see William’s darling playing and singing. Her friend sits down on the bench next to her and listens…

“Where did you learn?”

“Albert’s wife taught me how to play and then at the opera house I used to listen in on the singers’ vocal lessons.”

“Well you certainly have a gift, good enough to play at the St. Regis in New York.”

“Thank you… I read some of your articles as well, you also have quite the hand.”

“Thank you.”

Starting a new life can be scary but at least they have each other.

Life in New York is not so bad, the two women stay with the grandparents of Sherlock’s darling in their home in upper Manhattan, a kind retired couple who takes care of the two women after such a terrifying and life changing incident. Her grandfather clears out his old and unused study for his grandchild to use so she can begin writing her new column. And then her grandmother begins to teach William’s darling about the types of music here in New York that is far different than the music she heard be played at the opera house, the two play piano that can be heard from where her grandfather works in his garden and down the hall where the reporter clicks away at her typewriter.

Soon two years had passed, the two managed to get their own apartment in lower manhattan, Sherlock’s darling had been taking small writing jobs here and there but had recently secured a job as a journalist for the New York Times, a crime journalist like she was before. Meanwhile William’s darling after years of hiding herself away and now works as a singer at a high end hotel like the reporter told her to do. The two had found themselves grow into a routine, make and have breakfast together, William’s darling will clean up the apartment and work and write some of her music while Sherlock’s darling heads out to work, then the reporter will come back in the afternoon for a late lunch, then William’s darling will leave to the hotel while the reporter finishes her work at home for the day, and then she will join her friend at the hotel after her performance and the two will have dinner there due to her friend’s role as staff at the hotel. Life was peaceful and now neither of them were alone, they had each other.

Some days were harder than others, one of them knowing they left people behind in London, the darlings of Louis and Mycroft, not telling Albert’s darling where they were so she would not feel the need to find them ever since they would take care of themselves. Sometimes the two would sit on top of the roof of their apartment building after hanging up the laundry and just wonder if they made the right choice and if they miss the mastermind and detective, William’s darling is far more prone to this and will just take her notebook up and write, doesn’t matter what, music, poetry, letters to him for her to keep, just something to get it all off her chest.

Meanwhile working for the Pinkerton agency in Brooklyn, Sherlock gets a job, there is going to be a large transaction with one of the heads of the biggest crime family in New York at a high end hotel in Manhattan, so he brings along William since has more insight how unground organizations function. They deal with the threat at the hotel silently as the owner requested as to not scare the guests and staff…

Meanwhile William’s darling and Sherlock’s darling are having a glass of wine in one of the empty event rooms at the hotel after her shift, sitting on the piano bench of the grand piano in the mostly empty room. Sherlock’s darling mentions that she left her journal open on the couch at home and told her she read one of the songs and asks her.

“Do you miss William?”

“…sometimes… I-I know he was a devil on earth… but I can’t help but think that even devils were once angels- sorry I probably sound crazy-“

“I would never tell you that you are crazy… would you mind playing one of your songs for me?”

“Sure but only if you sing with me, and don’t say you don’t know the lyrics when you snooped.”

Sherlock and William are walking down a hall in the hotel, about to leave when they both hear a piano playing from one of the rooms ahead. They shrug it off as some staff or a guest playing for fun, then William hears a voice, her voice…

“Balancing the scales

All my job entails

Making sure that they're prepared to see the world.”

He thinks he is just hearing something for a second and tries to tell himself it is nothing, but her voice… it has to be…

Sherlock definitely picks up on this and silently nods and William approaches the closed door where he hears the music and the voice…

“And all I feel is emptiness

From this emptying nest

William are you there

I was unaware

How difficult it'd be without you there

I was unprepared”

It is her, it has to be.

Then there is another voice joining in…

“Balancing the scales, balancing the scales

I did the best I could but still I have failed

Still I have failed

Balancing the scales

Want them to see the world but I'll always care”

Now William looks at the detective so see the same expression William wore on his own face.

As the piano fades away the door handle turns and the ladies turn their heads expecting it to be another of the hotel staff but instead…

William expected something when his darling saw him after years of thinking he was dead, but not the look of fear in her eyes after saying his name so sweetly in a song. She looks terrified, like she just saw a ghost and in some ways she did.

Sherlock on the other hand expected his darling’s reaction, like the look of pure rage in her eyes when she saw him alive. Their last few meeting before he disappeared were not on the greatest term as their friendship had a falling out due to Sherlock’s feels towards her and his overprotectiveness. Then not to mention by killing Milverton, she lost her job in London

In a blink of an eye and without a second thought, Sherlock’s darling grabbed her friend’s wrist and walked right out of the other doors to the room into another hallway.

It takes a second for William to process that he is crying. He abandoned her when he told her that he would never do such a thing. God what had he done?

The next day, neither woman goes to work, not even bothering to notify anyone that they would not be showing up today, they would find an excuse later. William’s darling sits on the rooftop, looking over the city as Sherlock’s darling hangs their laundry up on the line…

“Do you think you’ll go back to him now that you have the option?”

The question from her friend catches William’s darling off guard…

“I… I don’t know…”

“You do not have to, dear.”

That voice catches both women off guard, and they both look behind them at the rooftop entrance to see William standing there with his darling’s journal in hand, she must have left it at the piano.

“I only came to return this… and tell you I am sorry for abandoning you, I hurt you and I can never repair your trust in me, but I will… I will always be here if you need me.”

He sets the journal down on the bench she is sitting down and before William can turn to leave, she grabs his sleeve and he looks down at her with confusion but before he can say anything else she leaps up and wraps her arms around him, tucking her chin over his shoulder as she always had done…

“I forgive you.”

Meanwhile Sherlock’s darling is overcome with emotions that she cannot place as she looks at the two. She squeezes her eyes shut and a hand comes to rest on her shoulder. She does not have to look up to know who it was.

“I do not forgive you.”

“I wasn’t asking you to and I wasn’t apologizing, love.”

[i-dont-talk-for-days-on-end]

I can't stop thinking about this moment in "The Secret of Sherlock Holmes" ...

[Sorry for the bad audio quality, as far as I know there's no better recording. The script is under the cut below so you can read along, although it's not verbatim. Also be aware, there's shouting at approx. 0:42 in case you get startled by sudden loud noises (like me).]

Holmes is scared and lives under a feeling of impending doom, beginning to lose his grasp on reality, imagining not only Moriarty's presence but also having conversations with Watson in his thoughts ... And when Watson finally arrives, Holmes of course "can‘t say “Thank you”; he cant say “Good night,” can’t say “Help.”" ...

So he asks Watson for a match to have him close for a moment (they are in Baker Street, Holmes must have his own matches lying around) - I think this is the most logical explanation. He craves Watson's assistance, but he does not know how to ask for it. So he asks for a match instead.

Ahhh, I would sell my soul to travel back in time and see this on stage! (Yes, this is a photo from the play - but I have no idea from which scene.)

Here is the link to the full audio recording of the play on YouTube: Act I - Act II You can find the script via this post by @muchtohope ! I also used it for the text under the cut, thank you OP! :)

The mood changes again: darker, menacing, intensified by sound.

HOLMES becomes aware of another presence: the terrifying image of MORIARTY. His shadow stretches across the stage, street lit, in a London mist. HOLMES is alert, afraid.

HOLMES Professor Moriarty, I presume…? (The shadow remains. Silence) When the time is right, my friend, when the time is right…

The shadow moves away. WATSON's voice is heard.

WATSON Holmes? (HOLMES stays perfectly still) Can I be of assistance?

HOLMES Your presence might be invaluable.

WATSON You speak of danger. You are afraid of something?

HOLMES Well, I am.

WATSON Of what?

HOLMES Of air-guns.

This comes as a terrifying shriek from HOLMES. WATSON's voice has been in HOLMES' mind. Now his voice can be heard off-stage.

WATSON Holmes?

HOLMES (with quiet relief) My friend…

HOLMES rises from chair, as WATSON in outdoor clothes enters in natural light.

WATSON How are you, my dear fellow? I've brought you a cake. Mary baked it especially for you.

WATSON presents a cake tin. HOLMES peers inside, the briefest of glances. He puts in on the desk.

HOLMES How kind. And how is Mrs Watson?

WATSON She is extremely well, and sends you her compliments.

A pause.

HOLMES Watson… I think you know me well enough to understand that I am by no means a nervous man. At the same time it is stupidity, rather than courage, to refuse to recognise danger when it is close upon you. Might I trouble you for a match? (WATSON lights HOLMES' cigarette and sees him staring ahead in a momentary trance before he becomes aware of WATSON's presence again) You have probably never heard of Professor Moriarty?

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom. The significance of Molly Hooper.

Of the utmost importance

Molly knew she was doomed the day she fell in love with Sherlock Holmes. He was gay and gorgeous; she was straight and unremarkable. Once Molly Hooper gave her heart, she did so fully. She’d do anything for the person in question and endure whatever cruelty they may send her way. A quick smile of gratefulness or the slightest touch made her swoon for days. It was always worth it. Until it wasn’t. 

When Sherlock Holmes entered her morgue for the first time, she knew after mere minutes that she’d die for the man if that’s what he’d ask of her. It was a kind of madness, and she was helpless once it got a hold of her. 

And then, John Watson walked into the lab with Mike and the world Molly knew changed. Sherlock became less brusque with her, at least in John’s presence. After the disastrous Christmas party at 221B, when Sherlock had analysed her gift and her feelings for the recipient, she’d finally snapped, and to her utter surprise Sherlock had apologised to her; even kissed her cheek. A shame she was too agitated to enjoy it fully. 

Molly admitted her defeat when she caught Sherlock’s glances in John’s direction. To her knowledge he’d never looked at anyone like that. The glances were brief, but Molly was always so tuned to Sherlock when he was around, and it wasn’t difficult to see if you knew where to look. 

“You look sad when he can’t see,” she told Sherlock in a bold moment. 

He hadn’t responded, but she saw his jaw tighten, and he’d left the lab shortly after without saying goodbye. That was answer enough.

***

Molly had cried and begged Sherlock not to go through with his plan, when Moriarty threatened John, Mrs. Hudson and Greg, but he was relentless. 

“It’s the only way to save them, Molly. I’m not doing this to hurt them, but it’s crucial that they’re left oblivious and John in particular. They’ll go after him if they for one second think he’s faking his grief,” Sherlock explained frantically while making a mess of his curls. 

“But it will destroy him, Sherlock! He loves you,” Molly tried to reason.  

“Don’t be ridiculous, Molly! Nobody loves me,” Sherlock huffed but he didn’t meet her eyes.

When she opened her mouth to protest further, Sherlock moved into her personal space. He cradled her face softly in his hands and looked her in the eyes without blinking.

“Please, Molly. There’s no other I’d trust with this. Moriarty thinks you’re insignificant and won’t suspect your involvement. Despite his shrewdness, he too has failed to observe all factors. If this shall work, I need your assistance.”

All of this were delivered in the softest tone she’d ever heard Sherlock use. He finished by kissing her temple. She bowed her head and whispered her acquiescence and to her astonishment his “thank you” had sounded choked, but when she looked up, he was his normal self again.

*** 

The goodbye kiss a few weeks later took her by surprise. It was fierce and dramatic like the man himself, but also a heartfelt thank you Sherlock couldn’t express in his hurry to get away to hunt down Moriarty’s network. 

She cried herself to sleep for months, and she had no difficulty mourning Sherlock at his funeral. Only one glance over at John convinced her that he loved Sherlock just the way Sherlock loved him. Her father had looked just the same at her mother’s funeral. A grieving husband, a widower. It had taken all her willpower not to spill the beans to John, to tell him that it was just a magic trick, that Sherlock was alive, but she’d promised. Sherlock had even made her say the words – “I can’t tell.”

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @peanitbear @meetinginsamarra

[otaku-tyriq]

Do you have top 10 or top 7 favorite (fictional) characters (if you feel like listing multiple) of all time from any media?

That is actually a very tricky question, dear Anon. For you see the list if my favourite characters is CONSTANTLY changing. Similar to my list of my favourite songs haha. So I cannot give you a set "All time Favourite” list but I can offer you a "List of Characters Tyriq enjoys at this very moment on the 18th of March 2024”

1) Nero Claudius from Fate/Extra, Fate/Last Encore, Fate/Extella and Fate/Grand Order

The second I had first heard this woman say "umu” that was it for me. I knew I’d be obsessed with her for the rest of my days. She is adorable, she is loyal, she is THAT GIRL, a queen, an emperess, a goddess, and just seeing her instantly makes my brain pump out serotonin. Who even needs anti depressants when you can have Nero.

2) Vash the Stampede from Trigun Stampede

Babygirl. Princess. Loserboy. Golden Retriever Puppy. Beloved Wife. He’s adorable, pathetic, a wonderfully tragic yet optimistic character. He’s my beautiful little princess and I lay my life down before him.

3)Yoimiya from Genshin Impact

Her absolute happy go lucky attitude and sweet personality is like liquid gold shot straight into my arteries. I had fallen in love with this woman the very second I had laid eyes on her. Also she has been my main for two years at this point she’s genuinly just that fun to play.

4) Kaveh from Genshin Impact

The suffering artist trope CRANKED UP TO ELEVEN! Again like Vash this man is equally tragic as he is kindhearted and despite having been scammed out of his money multiple times he still cannot help but sacrifice his own well being if it would result in someone else’s happiness. Also before you ask: Yes, I do ship him and Alhaitham

5) Ichiban Kasuga from Yakuza

What else can I say about Ichiban other than he’s almost stupidly optimistic and no matter how hard of a curveball life throws at him, he ALWAYS keeps the attitude of "once you hit rock bottom the only way is up.”, always trying to both see and bring out the best in people. Also he’s a massive Dragon Quest fan so obviously I’d end up obsessing over this beautiful specimen of a man who at the age of 42 still is not 100% sure where women pee from.

6) Erik from Dragon Quest XI

Honestly I could have EASILY put the entire main cast of Dragon Quest XI on this list because the characters of that game are simply that likeable and well written, but if I had to choose one, it would have to be your very first party member and the hero’s best friend and totally platonic roommate Erik. This man’s sassy attitude yet undying loyalty and devotion towards the hero is so strong not even the apocalypse itself could tear the hero and Erik apart for long.

7) Ryuji Sakamoto from Persona 5

I think at this point y’all are starting to see a pattern in my favourite characters: Ryuji is loyal like a golden retriever puppy, absolutely adorable and sweet with a severe lack of Braincells.

8) Silver the Hedgehog from the Sonic the Hedgehog Franchise

Silver has literally been my favourite Sonic character since Childhood. His whole stick is that he’s unbeatable optimistic. Despite becoming from an apocalyptic future where everything is covered in flames, he never stops believing that things can become better if you try. His naivety however leads to characters like Mephilis abusing his optimism for their own agenda. But none of that stops Silver from

being one of my greatest comfort characters.

9) William James Moriarty from Moriarty the Patriot

✨Be Gay. Do Crime✨

✨Communism✨

✨Clinical Depression✨

All these things and more describe William James Moriarty and he’s so valid for it.

10) The Professor from Puppet History

He’s just a little guy. He’s a little guy and it’s his birthday

[dazaiandhislovelybandages]

First Meetings {Sebastian Moran}

A/N: I thought I should write something about Sebastian since he is my fav from Moriarty the Patriot and especially since I can't get the fact that he was a noble before going to war out of my head. Hope you enjoy this. Also requests are open.

Pairings: Sebastian Moran x fem!reader

TW: mentions of a panic attack

If someone were to actually ask you how the ball was going you would most probably look at them, not knowing what to respond. All you knew was that you were standing almost glued to your mom with a stupid silver mask that covered the top of your face and matched perfectly with your dark blue dress.

  And your aunt -who had also organised the ball- wouldn’t stop talking to you about the seemingly handsome young man across the room. You had tried to look for that man twice. The first time the only thing you noticed was that there were a lot of men in the room. The second time -after a little guidance from your aunt- you saw that ‘handsome’ man. 

  Just another noble twice your age who would most probably try to order you around. You could tell that much from the way he was standing, a disgustingly strange expression on his face as he checked out the female servant who was carrying around the disk with the drinks. His cigar had been placed between his pointer and middle finger, the ashes dropping on the marble floor. At the same time you weren’t surprised that your aunt had pointed at that specific man. She had a terrible taste in men and you couldn’t pinpoint why. 

  You snapped back to reality after she poked your shoulder, signalling that someone was coming towards you. Surely enough as soon as you turned around you saw the said handsome man, an ugly smile on his face. Your unbothered expression turned into one of disgust immediately and you were ready to throw your glass of champagne on him and claim it was an accident so he would leave.

  At first you raised an eyebrow in question, a man kept signalling at you, waving his hands and motioning for you to go to him. It was better than nothing.  

   Somehow that was how you found yourself, opening the glass door of the veranda, Sebastian Moran following you, almost slamming it shut to his face. 

  “Well that was rude.” you heard him say, clearly this time since there was no one else there with you and even though the orchestra could still be heard, all the chatting and gossiping were muffled out. You slowly turned your head to look at him, an angry stare on your face. “Or maybe it wasn’t…” Sebastian’s eyes narrowed in question. 

  You rolled your eyes and fixed your gaze to the garden displayed in front of you, happy that your senses were coming back after almost having a panic attack in the crowded ballroom. You placed your right hand on your stomach, slightly pressing on your diaphragm. The corset seemed to be tighter than before but you couldn’t do anything about it.  

  “Are you okay?” Sebastian took a step closer to you but immediately regretted it the moment you threw that sharp angry stare again. “You have never been better, obviously. Just like everyone else here who are having the time of their lives judging and bringing each other down, am I right?”

  “Yes.” you responded, your voice cold and your tone direct. You knew there was no reason to be angry at him since he hadn’t done anything but you couldn’t help it.  

  “If you ask me…” He walked over to the marble railings and leaned against them, facing your. “Everything here is a bit… too extravagant. The decorations at least.” you raised an eyebrow. “And the guest list… do not get me started on that.”

  Did you want to tell him that the ones holding the ball were your aunt and uncle? The answer to that was no. Maybe he could entertain you a little. 

  “Found yourself someone you did not like Mr Moran?” you let out an internal sigh of relief when you finally managed to get your breathing under control. 

  “If I were to be honest, other than the musicians, two little adorable twins I saw running around and your excellency, everyone else here is at least disgusting.”

  “Disgusting is a strong word, sir.” you took a few steps to the left towards the left end of the veranda and found yourself leaning against the marble pillar there. You watched carefully as Sebastian walked closer to you. 

  “Maybe it is.” He said, one hand tracing the railing as he finally stopped three steps away from you and leaned forward this time, his elbows touching the marble. “But I will not take it back. And…” He turned his head and looked at you. “If you wish to know, my dear you, it is neither ‘sir’ nor ‘Mr Moran’. My name is Sebastian.” He reached to the back of his head and untied his mask before turning around to lean against the railings. 

  You didn’t respond. you took a good look at him and then turned your head towards the garden. If your calculations were correct then this would be a very interesting night. 

  Your gaze focused on the ballroom. That same feeling you had when you were a kid, coming back to you. The awe, the thrill… you had taken dance lessons and even though your teacher had commented on how good you were, deep inside you felt as if you would never reach the level of those people. The grace with which these women danced with your partners seemed out of your reach. 

   “Oh so it is time for the waltz…” Sebastian brought your attention back to him. “Shall we?”

  “I am not planning on going back inside, sorry to disappoint you Mr Moran.” 

  The young man chuckled and held out his hand. “No one said I was planning on dancing inside.”

  “I am a terrible dancer.” you responded immediately, feeling his stare burning holes on your skin.

  “I can assure you that I am the worst possible dance partner one could have.” you opened your mouth to say something but Sebastian spoke again, his voice calm and steady. 

  And confident. 

  “Will you do me the honour of giving me this dance?”

A/n: since this is the first part of a longer scene I've written if anyone wants part 2, tell me. I'll be more than willing to upload it

[yourpalmickeymouse]

Hey, again Mickey! I looked at your response and I get what you are saying but doesn't explain why it took hours for them to get a criminal off my chimney... Anyway on to my question, I've been seeing the blot the news lately and the thing that caught my attention is that the plans that he makes are so... impossible to solve! How are you able to solve them, are you on the same IQ length, are you two related like he is your secret father and you are his abandoned son in some way but don't know it yet because your family never told you, or are you a wizard, or making stuff with the police for publicity... Thank you and please tell the chief about his police members to STOP GIVING ME TICKETS I've been driving the speed limit omg...

Hiya Asritca,

I'm sorry that happened. I would like to think the Mouseton police were probably tryin' their best. But I guess they aren't as effective as they could be. I'll try to talk to Chief O'Hara about this. I'll also talk to him 'bout the tickets.

As for your question...

...

I honestly have no idea.

I mean when I heard about how He has puzzled law enforcement and government agencies all over the world for so long, I was unsure what would be able to stop him. But yet somehow I did. I honestly have a hard time believin' it. It doesn't feel real.

I dunno if it's anything related to IQ. I mean I guess I've been told that I'm pretty smart. But I dunno if I'm that smart. I did pretty well in school, but I wasn't the valedictorian or anything. I also don't think we're related. My dad is currently in Florida with my mom... Unless if there is something about myself that I don't know about, I doubt that's the case. I think they would've told me something as important as that. Also I'm also not a Wizard and I haven't faked any crimes with the police. I would NEVER do that.

Hm... I guess Minnie has told me that I have a hard time lettin' things go. Sometimes she calls it "Dedication", but she usually calls it "Stubbornness", ha ha. But that might be part of it? I guess? But that doesn't seem right. Now that I think 'bout it, I do feel like when I solve his puzzles or figure out his plans... Well... it kinda feels like they were made just for me. If that makes sense.

I know that sounds real weird. But I guess it does feel like the Phantom Blot and I are on the same wavelength at times. Like he is playin' a song, only I could hear. Like we are speaking a language that only we can understand. Like we are playing a game that only we know the rules to. A game that I can't resist.

I always thought it was silly when books, or shows, or comics or whatever would try to have the hero and their villain have this bond that kinda made 'em obsessed with each other... But I think I get it now... He does kinda feels like the Moriarty to my Sherlock. (Metaphorically speaking, I'm in no way Sherlock). I definitely feel drawn to him in a way I haven't felt before. Like he is my main archenemy and I need to be the one to take him down.

It's definitely a big and terrifying responsibility, but I was raised to step up whenever duty calls.

You can count on me to do everything I can to put him away for good. No matter what it takes.

[ohbeyewise]

Two Sociopaths of High Intelligence

People- when I heard Feyd-Rautha described as a sociopath of high intelligence, I was reminded of my favorite high functioning sociopath and a version of reality when these two cold-eyed men met came into being.

Don't ask me how- it's not important. Probably the Doctor since Sherlock is taking me back to 2014.

I thought it would be really interesting to explore a little bit of a world where Sherlock spent a few of his formative years on Ghedi Prime as a companion/servant of the young Na-Baron. In such a dynamic Sherlock would be a very intelligent but sensitive soul compared to his peers and that would explain his impatience and threshold for violence back in London.

Sherlock exposed to the spice or with Mentat training? Too powerful a combination! It puts his drug addiction in a whole new light.

Though familiar with both the Dune and Sherlock Fandoms, this is making no effort to follow cannon. (clearly) and is entirely unbeta'd.

Also, because it's so popular I have included the assumption that this Feyd has married an Atraides wife and is wildly devoted to her and his children. Please enjoy!

“Sherlock! We need you at the yard!”

Sherlock had no patience for Sally Donovan on any given day, but this time there was a catch in her voice that stood out to him. She was unnerved. She had practically flew up the stairs to the flat in her effort to get to him quickly. This was the first time she hadn’t hesitated at his doorstep. There were only a few things that could unnerve Sally, as irritating as she was, and of those things there were even fewer that would result in him being asked to come to the police station. 

“Is it interesting?” He asked languidly, waiting for her fear to confirm his suspicions. She huffed. As always, irritated by Sherlock's blaise attitude. He was always feeling the exact wrong thing. 

“Someone’s asking for you, a bald freak. He says you know him.” 

Sherlock hummed. Feigning disinterest even as he glanced around to determine where John was. At work judging by the coat rack. 

“Well who is he?” He demanded impatiently after waiting for a moment for Sergeant Donovan to elaborate. Bald would always put him in mind of Ghedi Prime, where he had spent a few years working for the Baron’s family but that was hardly a help to him here in London. How many times did he have to say he was a detective and not a mind reader?

“We don’t know!” She barked back, her unease coming through once more as she shifted in place. “Now are you coming or not?” 

“I’ll follow in a cab.” Sherlock eventually agreed with another roll of his eyes. Her fear wouldn’t be out of place if there was a Harkonnen ambassador waiting for him at the police station. Idly, Sherlock wondered what he would do if there was such a person. In some ways it would be a relief to return to the life he’d once had. The intrigue, the whispers, the plans within plans and plots within plots… he'd never been bored. Only Moriarty had ever been able to scratch the itch that his former life had left in him. 

The yard was unusually silent while they all waited anxiously for Sherlock to arrive. Sergeant Donovan had texted Inspector Lestrade that she had collected him and was on her way back only a few minutes ago, but each moment dragged dangerously on. 

The. . . guests, Lestrade supposed he could call them waited patiently, completely still. Apparently unbothered by the surrounding police officers. 

If their stillness wasn’t strange enough Lestrade was put off by the way they looked. Rarely had he been faced with such a …. monochromatic group of people. 

They all looked alarmingly similar; pale, hairless, and dressed in layers of black. 

Lestrade would have pegged them for some kind of new age high fashion group of some kind, the sort of people who had come into the world with money and had run out of ideas about how to use it but that didn’t quite suit them. They were too, well… militaristic for lack of a better word. 

The whole group of them, five altogether had filed into the station, nearly an hour ago. 

They walked with a sharpness and regularity that took years of practice and had filed off the street and up the stairs and the the doors with a smooth, almost water-like steps. There had been no hesitation. No pausing to read the signs about where to que, they marched right to the front desk, and asked for Sherlock Holmes. 

Lestrade had been called down from his office by the very flustered secretary because a group of scary men looking for Sherlock was unfortunately his division. He had guided the group into an empty conference room, deciding against putting them under arrest and in an interrogation room until he actually learned something. 

However, despite his best efforts, Sherlock’s name was the only thing he was able to get out of them. He wasn’t convinced, after fifteen minutes of fruitless questions that they even spoke English. The one who spoke, one of the shorter men stood out from the others because of a strange rectangular black tattoo over his lip bottom lip and down his chin.

“Come off it, why do you want to see Sherlock?” He asked again, exasperated by the silence he was being met with. 

“Sherlock Holmes.” The man said again, his pronunciation careful and deliberate, like he was reading a cue card. 

His voice had a smooth, silibus quality that stretched the S in Sherlock’s name just a touch farther then they should have been, and snapped down on the K with unusual force. It made Lestrade wonder if their native language, as he was getting to be more and more convinced that they had, was mostly made of harsh sounds, deep in the throat. 

Lestrade had asked, begged and demand they give him some more information, to no avail. He hadn’t convinced any of the others to speak. Most didn’t even look him in the eye, instead fixating their gazes just past him. 

He had forensics looking through surveillance footage, to see if they could get anything they could use to identify them, but so far nothing. 

It was ridiculous, big conspicuous group like this? They should have left a trial a mile wide behind them. 

“It’s got to be some kind of elaborate prank. It’s the only explanation.” Anderson said, glaring out at the group from behind the glass door. Lestrade had taken a break, he was sick of meeting their cold staring eyes and knew he needed to take a step back. 

“Well if it is, I don’t get the punchline.” Lestrade said watching them through the conference room window from his place beside Anderson, holding his mug of long cold coffee tightly. 

“It’s got to be something the freak’s set up. Bunch of freaks come in here looking for another freak? They know each other somehow. He’s pulling one over on us.” Anderson scoffed as he spoke, if he was a less nosey man he might even have left it alone and walked away. 

“Well I hope he does. Maybe then he can explain what they want and why they felt like they had to come to the police station to get it.” 

The longer Lestrade watched them the more he thought he had pegged the leader. It wasn’t the spokesman. He was sure. 

Instead, he thought it was a man in the middle, flanked on all sides with his back to the wall. There was something about the way that the others surrounded him, each with their backs to him, creating nearly a kind of staggered circle around him. 

He was slightly taller than average, and slighter of figure than the bulkier men who stood around him, but there was something about the way he watched the room. Almost… predatory. Lestrade felt silly even thinking it but the longer he stood in the man's presence, the truer it seemed to be. 

Unlike the others, he made no effort to avoid eye contact, instead almost forcing it, looking intently at Lestrade when he spoke.

There was a hint of a smile on his face, but it was far from a friendly expression, instead dangerous and – Lestrade was uncomfortable just drawing the comparison- just like Sherlock’s most cheshire grins. There was something about the cold expression in the eyes that kept Lestrade from looking at them too long. They were almost. . . snake like. 

Even holding still with his hands clasped in front of him the man radiated an animal intensity that Lestrade could feel from across the room. 

Finally giving in to the silence, Lestrade poked his head back inside, making eye contact with the yet unnamed man. “He’s on his way.”

There was a flicker of something, too fast for Lestrade to catch it across the man’s face but the hair on the back of Lestrade’s neck stood up and started trying to pull him away. Not for the first time, Lestrade hoped he wasn’t putting Sherlock in danger by having him come over here. 

Donavan must have had her lights on because she slammed the door open in record time. The banging of the door against the wall was loud against the stillness that the strange man’s cold eyes had brought and made Lestrade jump his heart pounding after such a long tense silence. 

Sherlock swished in after Donavan, his coat flowing behind him and his usual sneer of indifference on his face. It shuddered away as soon as he caught sight of who was waiting for him in the conference room. 

Sherlock came to an abrupt halt, almost rearing backwards in surprise. 

Lestrade strained forward to try and make out Sherlocks expression, his hand on his gun just in case but to his surprise there was an almost… warmth to his expression. 

A… fondness that Lestrade had only ever seen directed at John or, on occasion, Mrs. Hudson. It was gone as soon as Lestrade registered it, hidden behind a careful professionalism as Sherlock stepped to the side away from Donovan into the room and to Lestrade’s everlasting shock - dipped into a deep sincere bow, nothing like the mocking ones Lestrade had seen from the man on occasion. 

Lestrade struggled to follow Sherlock, the room was getting tight with all seven of them, and despite his slight stature Sherlock couldn’t help but take up the space of two men. 

“Na-Baron.” Sherlock’s voice held a careful reverence and respect that Lestrade had never heard from him before. He couldn’t help himself from taking another look to make sure it was Sherlock who was speaking. 

The man that Lestrade had picked out, the one with the snake eyes and dangerous, sharp expression stepped forward away from his compatriots. The way he moved was just as smooth as his stare. He held himself with the ease of a man who was used to being obeyed. There was no hesitation, impatience or uncertainty in his movements, or expression. Lestrade knew instinctively that the man, the “Na-Barron” As Sherlock had identified him was a trained fighter, as capable of a burst of deadly speed as the snake he so resembled. 

Even his few steps forward were economical, there was no movement wasted, no glance without a purpose. Lestrade didn’t know if he had ever seen a man with a more sure hold on the ground beneath his feet. 

“William.” Lestrade would have been caught off guard by the address, but he was too busy being surprised at the sound of the Na-Barons voice. 

It wasn’t what Lestrade was expecting. It was a dark, raspy sound, almost sensual in how it slipped out of his mouth. The strange accent that his companion had spoken with was almost entirely absent, but there was a harshness to his voice that Lestrade normally associated with smokers.

“It’s Baron, now.” It was said softly, Lestrade would have called if casually except for the danger that was so clearly present. 

Sherlock stood back up, his motion smooth and practiced. As if he’d made that bow a hundred times. 

“My apologies my lord, and my condolences.” 

The Baron’s chilling smirk, widened to something more like a grin and Lestrade was appalled to see that the man’s teeth were black. Not the black of decay but a glossy, prepared black. One that contracted with his almost colorless skin and added a terrible otherworldliness to his expression. 

“Yes. My Uncle's death was unexpected.” 

There was nothing close to remorse in the words. The moment he said them Lestrade felt sure that this man had killed his uncle. There was something so insidious, so deliberately casual in their delivery, it put all of his teeth on edge. 

Lestrade watched Sherlock closely, waiting for a clue of some kind as to what kind of man this so-called Baron was. 

Sherlocks expression was unreadable, he was looking over the Baron carefully, using his skills to draw conclusions from the Baron’s appearance that was beyond Lestrade’s ability. 

“You’ve come a long way from Ghedi Prime my Lord. Is it to do with your Uncles unfortunate passing?” 

The dreadful dark grin on the Baron’s face continued as he chastised. 

“It was unexpected. Not a mystery.” 

Sherlock hesitated, even as he bowed his head in acceptance of the clarification, watching the man closely, from beneath his curls and Lestrade wondered if he dared to interrupt. There was clearly more they were saying to each other then he was able to discern. 

The Baron stepped forward again, coming closer to Sherlock with a clean, hunters gait, his arms loose at his sides, ready to strike.

He stood right in front of Sherlock, in his personal space, meeting his eyes directly. 

“No. There is something else I need you for. Something… more important.” His voice was quiet. Deliberate. If there had been any other noise in the station Lestrade wouldn’t have been able to pick out the low, intimate rasp. 

Lestrade took a step forward, hands on his hips, ready to interpret but stopped at Sherlocks extending hand holding him back. 

He frowned but waited, trusting Sherlock for now. 

“And what service can I offer the great Barron Feyd-Rautha?” Sherlock’s voice was low, subservient and flattering, without a hint of mockery. 

Lestrade cringed to hear it, and he knew without looking that his crew was doing the same from where they were pressed against the doors and walls to listen. It was unnatural to see Sherlock of all people trying to be ingratiating. Worse to see it be successful. 

“You,” the man, Feyd-Rautha Lestrade supposed was his name, took a step around Sherlock, starting to circle him. Sherlock turned his head to keep an eye on him but didn’t spin around, allowing the man at his back. 

Lestrade was forced to step away to stay clear of the Barrons stride, nearly out of the room entirely.

“Are going to help me find something. Or rather someone.” As he spoke the room seemed to get colder. Chilled by the ice in his raspy voice. Lestrade could feel the cold rage leaking off him. 

“Someone that belongs to me.” There was a darkness in that. Lestrade, trapped, watched as Sherlock carefully worked to learn his new task without waking the waiting bloodlust coursing through the Barons body, building a tension that would only break with blood. 

“One of of your’s my lord?” There was a deceptive casualness to his tone. 

How Sherlock remained calm when the Baron turned and hissed at him, black teeth flashing against pale skin Lestrade didn’t know.

“Things have changed since I last procured your services.” 

“Your ascendancy my lord.” 

“My progenitorship.” He rolled the word over his tongue, passing it gently, lovingly to Sherlock from where he stood, nearly pressed to the shorter mans back.

“You will help recover what has been taken from me.” Feyd-Rautha didn’t need to say or else, or promise suffering or even death to the perpetrators. The guarantee was in the air. 

Lestrade didn’t know if he was more afraid for whoever had dared to steal from this man or the person they had taken. 

Sherlock’s head tilted, and Lestrade didn’t have to see him to know what expression was on his face, like a hunting dog picking up an scent. The thick tense atmosphere did nothing to stop Sherlock coming alight at what was clearly an exciting challenge. The hunt, as he was apt to say, was on. 

Sherlock could feel the stakes mount over him. He turned to face his old companion, eyes bright with affront. 

“Someone has taken your heir?” The careful handling that had been in his every motion, every word was abruptly gone, instead replaced with something almost like awe, or that’s what Lestrade would have thought if he’d ever considered Sherlock capable of something as human as awe. 

His dropping of whatever strange role he had been taking before was met by Feyd-Rautha who once more snarled in a rage that was only just reigned in. Lestrade noticed that his men flinched at the sound. Each one watching Feyd with a care that spoke of long practice avoiding his wrath. 

“My youngest. I will have her back.” 

“Alright- that’s enough of that.” 

Sherlock, who had been tilted to face the “Baron” (which wasn’t making any sense to Lestrade, last he checked none of the lords of the land looked like Voldemort with a nose) Snapped his head up and faced him, his eyes alight with an expression that made Lestrade doubly uneasy. 

“Listen Sherlock- come here.” He would have reached out and tried to pull Sherlock back towards him, but the Baron's expression- he seemed entirely too pleased at the idea of Lestrade putting himself within his grasp- stopped him from finishing the action. 

“Come here.” Lestrade repeated with more force when it didn’t look like Sherlock was going to obey him. He wondered what he would do if Sherlock didn’t come. Did he dare to let them leave? Would he risk trying to make them stay? 

The Baron, seemed almost surprised when Sherlock decided to follow Lestrade command, but he did not stop him. 

Sherlock made an aborted kind of bow to the man and stepped past Lestrade, swiftly moving past him and leaving the conference room. 

Lestrade followed him out and shut the door. 

Sherlock spun and faced him, tension clear on his face. “Listen to me detective. It is vitally important that you and the yard stay away from this. Far away. Do you understand?”

Lestrade swore. “The hell I do. What’s going on? Who are these people?” 

Sherlock stepped froward till he was nose to nose with Lestrade, breath mixing between them. Lestrade leaned back in surprise. 

“I will explain as much as I can as soon as I can but right now you need to let me take Feyd-Rautha and-” 

“Feyd- what?” Lestrade interrupted only to be steamrolled by Sherlock.

“And leave right now.” There was a tension, a tightly controlled fear in Sherlock’s voice that Lestrade very uneasy.

“I-” Lestrade opened his mouth to protest but Sherlock, after glancing right over his shoulder continued 

“Greg. Please.” 

Lestrade almost fell over. Never before had Sherlock said his name correctly. 

“This is the only way.”

Lestrade hesitated, Sherlock’s carefully controlled fear working over him. 

“Okay. Alright.”

As soon as his consent was out of his mouth Sherlock opened the door swung out, his steps long and easily measured. Careful. The fear he had pleaded with was completely absent now, Lestrade wondered which Sherlock was a mask, the one who spoke to him, or the one who spoke to the Baron. 

“I am at your service Baron.” 

Lestrade watched, filled with trepidation as the Baron gestured for Sherlock to lead the way out of the station. 

“I knew you would be.” Lestrade resisted the duel urge to run after Sherlock, and to run away when the Baron looked over and grinned triumphantly with devil black teeth and a steady vipers eye. Instead he stood rooted to the spot as the consulting detective he had started to consider a friend guided who he felt was a trained killer out of the police station. When had it come to this? When had he started to trust Sherlock over his own instincts?

[moriartyluver]

REQUEST

Character: William moriarty x reader

Genre: fluff maybe? Idk

Prompt: “Can I request William moriarty x female reader in which the reader is the mother of one of William's students in a modern au (Liam's a maths teacher at a private high school) and they start dating?? Kinda like max medina and lorelai Gilmore if u watched Gilmore girls. ^_^”

format :  head cannons

A/N: I love max and lorelai sm. I'm very happy to have my first request <3. I decided to give the reader a daughter for the sake of it. I hope you enjoy!!

• you and William met at a library one day. Steryotypical, maybe. You liked reading a lot and so did William so it isn't very surprising.

•you didn't speak much though. It was definitely lover at first site. He saw you had dropped one of your favourite books while you were behind him in the line to get it checked out. He complimented your taste, mildly flustered and you thanked him shyly before running back home as soon as possible.

•your daughter knew way before you told her that you had a crush on a new guy you had seen. She's very observant. Gets it from you.

•in the weeks to come, you kept seeing him at the library, sometimes waiting for him but never having  the courage to approach him.

•it was a lot like being a teenager again. You were all happy and in love with a handsome blonde man you had never seen before and didn't even know the name of.

•little did you know, William also was waiting for you. He wasn't sure if you liked him much though. He's a genius but an idiot when it comes to his feelings. I think that's adorable.

•Eventually, your daughter had parents evening at her posh private school. You were quite wealthy but understood the privilege you both had as most single mothers would have worked their butts of to get their daughter into such an elite school.

•Before the parents evening, your daughter would be constantly going on about how excited she was for you to meet her favourite teacher, Professor Moriarty.

•You hadn't heard of the name before and had no idea who he was. You had thought your daughter was overreacting. This man was strangely popular with teenage girls at the school and was known for it.

•according to your daughter, he was worthy of the praise but she didn't understand why her classmates were so infatuated with the man.

•there was once an incident of a girl drawing a picture of him in a comprising position. William had apparently gone bright red when he had seen it.

•From what you had known, he was a firm but fair teacher who was mainly so popular because he helped his students actually understand maths, a subject that was well hated by most of his students before he joined at the beginning of that year.

•He also seemed to be a prodigy of some sort, getting a PHD in advanced mathematics aged only 20.

•To say you also shared some of your daughters excitement would be an understatement. You also were quite curious too.

•when you had entered his maths classroom, it was empty. You had noticed how tidy it was. It seemed the children seemed to respect him enough to not leave him under the desks.

•as soon as you heard footsteps come from the storage room and into the classroom and the angelic voice of the man apologising for the setback, you felt yourself go faint for a moment.

•the man you had a crush on, was your daughter's maths teacher.

•not just that, he was her prodigy, perfect, popular, maths teacher.

•as soon as his eyes landed on you, he also felt the same. He was surprised that his favourite student's (although he'd never say) mother was the same lady from the library he had been crushing on.

•During the meeting, you were both fairly awkward. Your genius of a daughter managed to piece together that you both had massive crushes on each other. She had also managed to figure out that her own teacher was the same man you were pining after.

•She didn't mind in the slightest if you did start a relationship. Would it be a bit weird? Maybe. But if you were happy, so was she.

•(she wasn't one to express her feelings much but with her father absent her entire life, she secretly saw William as a father figure. If you ever did get married and he would become her stepdad, she would be ecstatic. She'd have the father she never had. How cute.)

• "mother," your daughter would say after the meeting was over "that was the man from the library, wasn't it?"

"He was..!" You'd reply "I'm so sorry! I'll stop with it if you want me to-"

Your daughter would cut you off with a nudge and a smile "I don't mind." She'd say "He's my favourite teacher anyways. I just don't want things to be..awkward.."

•you understood completely. After the multiple tedious meetings with your daughter's other teachers were over, William 'bumped into you' (he was looking for ages and tried to find out if you were still there or not).

•small talk had always bored the both of you but here he was, talking to you about the weather till he eventually got to the point and asked you out.

•you were hesitant at first. Although you had liked multiple guys before, you had never gotten into another relationship since (daughter's name)'s father left you both. If anything like that happened between you and William, it would be pretty awkward and possibly create a harmful relationship between him and your daughter.

•still, you accepted the coffee date with mild hesitation and eventually met up with him later that week.

•as time went by, you found yourself growing fond of the man, possibly in love. And your feelings were reciprocated well by your newfound lover.

•eventually the students at the school had found out that William and you were both dating. They were all a bit surprised at first but many of his students were glad he was happy with a woman like you.

•your daughter was often teased by her classmates but not in an irritating way, if you know what I mean. They were all very happy and it was normal for teenagers to be interested in such an affair.

•at the end of the day, no matter what, Liam would always be there for you, as you were with him. He'd understand your boundaries and help you open up a lot more too.

•ideal man. I'd sell my soul for him <3

[wizardfrog69]

୨⎯ "finding you masturbating" ⎯୧

Idk how to title this, but it's the Moriarty the patriot characters x gn!reader

Btw idk to put so instead I'm gonna be putting gif of the characters cuz I'm lazy

Also requests are wide open if you want me to write about anything! :)

Cw!: nsfw

Please if you don't feel comfortable with nsfw/nsft content do not read this

Feat. William, Louis, Albert, Sherlock, John, Hudson, Milverton, James, Sebastian, Mycroft

William James Moriarty:

He truly didn't expect to see you and thought you were off in the market or something

Didn't seem to have a reaction but in fact he was a but shocked? He just really didn't expect it

If you two are courting then he will go up to you and ask if you need "help"

Will gladly help, also makes sure to lock the door behind him

No one knew where he was for a while untill they heard your moans 🥰

If you the two of you weren't courting and just friends or something then he would leave and never mention it again

If you didn't notice him then you will never know he was ever there

Tries telling you to lock your door

Louis James Moriarty:

Runs away cutely

Is probably low key blushing

If The two of you are courting:

He would leave as soon as he enters and doesn't speak a word of what you were doing

If the two of you weren't courting:

Leaves faster then he enters

Man never knew you before in his life

Who are you?

Also most runs away everytime you enter a room

Idk he just finds it really embarrassing, finding you like that

Silly goofy little man fr 😔

Albert James Moriarty:

Why am I using courting so much? Oh well ig we gonna need to go to so many different weddings 😒

Whatever

He will stand there like 0.1 seconds too long

Weather you're courting or not you notice him and try to hid yourself cuz like he just chilling there

But he leaves

Unless you want him to stay 😏

If you two are courting then he will probably tease you a bit

But if you're not then he won't mention it

But like he wants to make fun of you 😔💔

Sherlock Holmes:

All the gifs of him is just him smoking or playing the violin

Not complaining tho 🤭

It just kinda baffles me the amount of smoke everywhere

Moving on

He would just be there like 🧍‍♂️

He would just like leave and go for a smoke probably

Like how would he react to seeing someone have a wank yk

If you're courting:

He would most likely just go up to you and tell you to just come to him before your hand(s)

If you're not courting:

He would just turned around and leave

Never speaks of it again

John H. Watson:

WHY ARE MOST OF THE GIFS OF SHERLOCK? BROS NAME IS JOHN J-O-H-N BUT NO SHERLOCK LIKE WHAT ? this app is getting confused or everyone hates John

Poor john

He's married though so this is simply platonic

Anyway

He would freeze in his steps once he opened the door

Quickly ran away

He ran where the pepper grows

Will feel really awkward

God I hate the word 'awkward' it's so hard to spell

But yeah

Miss Hudson:

Idk she wanted rent or something

Idk how many house she's the landlady of

Or as one would say, landbastard

If feel half dead yall

Whatever

She was shocked and didn't really expect for her furniture to be used in such a manner

Kinda left and was disappointed?

Yeah I feel too tired for this, I'll come back to do the rest later

Charles Augustus Milverton:

I'm back~

Charles' is such a silly little man

Why am I including him?

Idk but deal with it, not a big fan of him either but like I'm including him for some reason

He's more on the perverted side

He would like to stay and watch but he won't

Man I wanna steal this man's furniture so bad rn 😔

Mainly to piss him off

Anyway he would probably just stay there until he can remember it and leaves

Stays like 2 seconds

James Bond:

Bro I forgot everything about this man's personality

Oh well

Honestly he would leave and act like he never saw anything

Literally the same thing I've said for all of them

He doesn't find it shocking or anything and wouldn't pay it no mind

Doesn't care, like at all you're just doing your thing yk

Sebastian Moran:

How is this man's whole personality drinking in my head? 💀

If you're courting:

He will join

Just like steps up to you, take your hand(s) in his, kisses you and tells you to ask him next time and proceeds to masturbate you

Yeah, idk how to make that into a normal sentence

Fred Porlock:

Im not gonna write anything for him

So apparently he's 19

He doesn't look 19

Thats all i'm saying

Mycroft Holmes:

You don't know how long it took me to find this only for it to be poor quality

There wasnt anything better

He never even walks in the room

Hes a gentleman and he would never even dream of walking in on someone doing something so private

He also respects people (I hope)

[ha1taniwh0re]

Hello, how are you feeling? I hope that everything is going well for you. 💕

Anyway, I wanted to request some William James Moriarty x Reader, where they know each other for a pretty long time now and the Reader wants to confess her love to him, but is a bit shy and has troubles with it.

Also on the same time, she knows about the plan and she doesn’t want to ruin it, even though she thinks it is unfair for him to sacrifice himself like that.

3 years passes after the Final Problem events, Reader thinks she finally moved on and then William comes back and with him, the feelings Reader had for him. Of course Reader is pretty upset with him for disappearing for 3 years and making her go through all of this. But in the end, she forgives him and is happy being able to see him again. And finally, the Reader builds up the strength and tells him on how she really feels.

So yup, some angst to fluff, and maybe some hurt/comfort as well. Of course if you don’t mind it 😊

Omg i got this like almost a month ago… im so sorry i had a hard time so I didn’t post much but also i started that one book on Wattpad so im doing this rn.

Im so sorry anon please enjoy 💕

Why does my heart cry… Liam

/reader pov/

I was just sitting in my room and thinking about William. He is such a sweet young lord and every lady wants him, even me….

“Ahh….” I was upset.

“Is everything alright Y/n-chan??” Louis asked while standing at my door.

“Louis… omg hey… yeah im good”.

“I knocked but you didn’t answer”

“No no it’s alright.. Why did you come here?? If i can know?”

“Oh yeah, William nii-san told me to tell you we have a meeting about next target”

“I will be down in second”, i said and he left room with smile.

This is a day… i will tell him after meeting.

/2 hours later/

“That’s the plan guys”, Liam said and everyone went to do there job.

As i wanted to leave i stopped and remembered i will tell him about my feelings now.

“Hey Liam… before i go I wanted to tell you something…”

“Yes Y/n what is it?” He looked at me.

He beautiful eyes… i love them so much…

“You know I was really scared to tell you this but…..”

Wait… If i tell him about my feelings and he doesn’t feel like that too he will kick me out of group or the plan wouldn’t work if he is with me..

“Y/n????!!!” Liam said.

“Oh yeah sorry.. amm nothing sorry im gonna go and do my part of job”…

With that i left the room and I can say i was avoiding Liam for long time. But soon i was regretting that. Right now im sitting at his grave and crying…

“I wish you are here Liam… You know i had feelings for you but you are not with me anymore in this world we made…. You are such a stupid brat sometimes…. We told you that you don’t need to sacrifice yourself but no you didn’t listen…”

I got up and left some flowers there and went home. It was already dark when i got back home and lights were on??? Strange?? Louis told me he will be somewhere tonight. Oh yeah in mansion were only me and Louis now so it’s quite sometimes. I got inside and heard voices? Familiar ones. I got in living room and saw everyone…

“Omg….” I said with tears and everyone were now looking at me.

I ran to Albert to hug him.

“ALBERT OMGG!!!!”

“Y/nn heyyy it was a while”

He hugged me back and could say he wanted to cry too. When we pulled away I hugged everyone but than i saw SHERLOCK?!

“Sherly?! What… but????”

“He is here too (nickname)”

“Y/nn!!!”

A voice i missed said. One I thought i will never hear again. I turned around and saw HIM. Lord of crime…… William James Moriarty…. My sweet Liam. I ran to hug him and he hugged me back. Something i didn’t expect was a kiss. He kissed me…

“I knew about your feelings but never said anything because everybody knew i will kill my self. Im sorry my sweet princess”

I just looked at him and kissed once again..

[charliedawn]

I'm rewatching sherlock rn and and I've gotten a tiny bit infatuated with moriarty, eurus and mycroft again whoops

Would you be able to write something, Jim x reader, where you've been in a relationship with him for ages and are John's sister, one day your visiting John at Baker Street and sherlock and moriarty are having one of thier intimidating-each other-over-tea conversations and you overhear and that's how you find out Jim's been an evil criminal mastermind the whole time and you think he only ever got with you for some type of ulterior motive or to have a civilian identity to fall back on if he needed, you still love him but have zero trust for him now and he's trying his best to convince you that you weren't part of his game and that he actually cares about you?

If that's too messy of a request to follow maybe just something angsty that's generally along those lines? Also if you don't wanna write it that's totally fine too just wanted to ask cuz I love the BBC sherlock characters so much!!

Hiya. So, that scene just appeared in my mind and I couldn't help but add a little comedic effect to the whole situation. Hope you'll like it. 😉👍

Your brother and Sherlock had been working on a case together involving a dangerous criminal and you had been commissioned with the important role of courier between the both of them, since your brother had apparently 'other things to take care of'.

John had called you over for some important file he needed and Sherlock had left in your flat—because of course he had the keys.

You tried to tell him you had a date with your boyfriend, but your brother had hung up on you before you could tell him.

So, you had no choice but to comply.

You sighed as you found yourself in front of 221 Baker Street on a lovely evening and wondered what you were doing with your life..However, you then heard shouting inside and found the door opened ajar.

You knew Sherlock to hold little importance to personal safety, but you knew Mrs Hudson—and she never forgot to close the door behind Sherlock.

You decided to take a look inside and frowned at the deserted area, but then you heard it again.

A struggle was happening upstairs and you rushed to Sherlock's room with a flashlight in hand.

"...Hello ?"

You were met with dead silence and cautiously went up the stairs and opened the door, only to be met with Sherlock, John and...YOUR BOYFRIEND ?!

John *turns towards you* : "Y/N ! WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE ?!"

You : "YOU CALLED ME !"

Sherlock : "Not the time, Y/N. We're in the middle of a conversation with this psychopathic mass murderer."

You *to Moriarty* "HOLD UP ! YOU'RE THE PSYCHOPATHIC MASS MURDERER ?!"

Moriarty *smiles at you* : "Surprise ! Hello, sweetie."

Sherlock *to Moriarty* : "You're my assistant's sister's boyfriend ?"

John *to you* : "Wait a minute—YOU HAVE A BOYFRIEND ?!"

You *sigh* : "Not now John.."

Jim chuckled in amusement while Sherlock was pinning him in place and you glared daggers at him.

"Shocking. I know. Not really. Actually, it was pretty obvious. Sherlock knew from the start."

Both you and John *turn towards Sherlock in shock* : "YOU KNEW ?!"

Sherlock : "Well. Yes. It was obvious. Taking into account Y/N's terrible taste in men and disastrous past love life.."

You : "EXCUSE YOU ?!"

Moriarty *agrees* : "A tragedy..You should thank me I came and tagged along."

John : "HEY ! NOBODY TALKS ABOUT MY SISTER'S BAD TASTE BUT ME !"

You *in disbelief* : "OKAY ! FIRST OF ALL, OUCH ! AND THEN, ONE MORE PERSON SAYS ANYTHING ABOUT MY LOVE LIFE, I SWEAR TO KILL HIM !"

Sherlock : "..."

John : "..."

Jim : "..Well—"

You knocked him down with a book and shouted.

"I WARNED YOU !"

After that episode, your boyfriend was arrested and sent to a highly secured prison—one you were sure he wouldn't be able to escape from..but were—once again—disappointed.

After a little time in prison because love hurts :

Jim was waiting for you in front of your apartment and smiled when he saw you appear.

"Hello, darling. Missed me ?"

You stopped dead in your tracks at the familiar figure and shook your head in disbelief.

"H..How ?"

Moriarty chuckled before standing aside from your front door to take a couple of steps towards you—noticing how your hand disappeared in your purse for your phone.

"Really ? Our old friend how ? I already told you. I'm Jim Moriarty. I don't explain how. I just do."

You sighed and ignored him, wishing to step in your flat and shut the door in his face. No matter how much you tried to brush it off, you still had feeling for Moriarty.

"What are you doing here, Jim ? Don't you have Sherlock to go bother ?"

He smiled and shrugged before replying nonchalantly.

"Well...Do I have to have a reason to go see my girlfriend ?"

You scoffed loudly in disbelief.

"Haven't you heard ? We broke up. It was pretty clear to me from the way I knocked you out with a book.."

Moriarty pouted at the painful memory and nodded.

"Yes. I remember. I still have the bump on the the back of my head to prove it.."

You snorted and replied sarcastically

"You poor dear..Want some ice ?"

Moriarty stayed silent for a while and you thought he would go away once he would understand that you aren't interested anymore, but you yelped when he wrapped his arms around you from behind and whispered in your ear.

"Well..I would prefer a kiss ?"

You sighed and shook your head—trying not to cry at the tender hold.

"Tell me...What's the plan now, huh ? You're going to trick me into falling in love with you again and use me to get to Sherlock ?"

Moriarty hummed absent-mindedly at the question before twirling a strand/curl of your hair between his fingers.

"Aww..Cutie pie. ~I would never."

You pulled away from his embrace to glare at him.

"Cut the crap. Tell me. Talk frankly for once."

Moriarty stopped playing with your hair before sighing loudly—as if the discussion was boring him.

"I never tricked you into anything. I arrived and offered you a breath of fresh air from your overprotective brother and your old unrequited crush and you took it. I didn't force you."

Your eyes widened as Moriarty mentioned your old crush.

"Y..You knew ?"

He laughed—as if the answer was obvious.

"~Oh honey..Of course I knew. It was high time someone would see you. Because Mycroft would have never seen you like I do, Y/N.."

You shook your head and took a step back—trying to convince yourself that the man before you was nothing but a deceiver and would only use and hurt you. But, he had been such a relief from your chaotic life when you didn't know of his true identity and you sincerely hoped everything hadn't been a lie.

But, you weren't a fool and knew the truth was far from what you had lived with him.

"You are a villain.", you accused—but Moriarty only laughed again before stroking your cheek.

"Oh sweetheart..Don't you know ? Villains make the best lovers."

He didn't hesitate before kissing you, his hands cupping your cheeks and you let him. Because, deep down. You knew.

He was right.

You had never felt happier than by his side and even though Moriarty was a villain—you weren't sure you really cared inside.

You opened the door to your flat and you both stumbled inside.

Mycroft *spying the both of you through a video camera* : "~Oh Y/N..What have I done ?"

[fancyfeathers]

I am very invested in your William and author reader fanfic, I must say it is very interesting. Would it be alright if I trouble you a little?

May you write a chapter where reader has gone missing right, and reader does actually outsmart William for the very first time? to the point where HE'S the one crawling back?? and is amazed? and begging her to come back? and she's not having it.

If it is too much, you may ignore this>

Thank you. Love you sm!!!

YES!!! Omg yes, I already started thinking about this with the idea of her being in a writer’s club or friends with other authors like J.R.R. Tolkien and C.S. Lewis who would help each other with their works and what not.

So like her friends who heard about her disappearance and after writing mysteries and murders alongside her, they are completely ready to find her.

And Then There Were None (Yandere William James Moriarty /w Author Darling Masterlist)

No one would be able to tell anything was wrong at first glance when they saw William James Moriarty, to anyone outside they would see nothing wrong, to anyone besides Louis and Albert he would still behaving as normal…

But his brothers, William is on edge, but in the best way possible, like when Sherlock is at his heels and all because his darling beat him at his own game, truly remarkable. He thought that she would only be off for a week or two but over a month has passed and every time he thought he found something the trail ran cold. Then the cherry on top of it all was every hint he found that ran cold related back to her books, like she was mocking him and what he had done…

And it was thrilling.

Then one evening after William had returned home from teaching at the college, Louis had also returned home from the market and fight as he was going to unpack-

A letter fell from the basket, and it was addressed to a Professor William James Moriarty, the name inked in red pen.

Louis handed the letter off to William when he was speaking to Albert in the drawing room over tea, telling him it was in the basket but he had never knew it was there, so someone must have slipped it in. William opened the letter as he sat up straight in his chair…

“I'm where the drama unfolds with arias grand,

Where masks may conceal a mysterious hand.

Within these walls, stories old and new,

Echo in halls with a theatrical view.

Where am I found? Seek the stage's grand spree,

Where performers enchant with operatic glee.”

Meet us at the answer at 8:00 PM tomorrow night, show them the letter and they will let you in. Bring your brothers, or leave them, I really do not care.

The letter was not signed, but the riddle was written in the same red ink, slightly smeared. The answer was obvious, an opera house, the question was who sent this and why? It was clear it was connected to his darling, so hopefully this was not a trail that goes cold.

So William follows the instructions hoping alone since this was obviously going to be a passive encounter since it was in public, and upon arriving to the theater and seeing all the members of the audience flocking inside, the sender was among the crowd.

While the other patrons showed their tickets to the staff at the door, he showed the letter and a small smile comes across the man’s face as he tells William to go to box five and that they were already waiting for them. Then as William made his way to the box and pushes open the door to see two individuals, a gentlemen reading a newspaper and William could tell was years old, and then sitting next to the man was her, his darling. Then as the door shuts behind the professor, the one reading the paper speaks up without looking at him.

“A counterweight supporting an opera house's chandelier fell through the roof and crashed into the audience, injuring several people and killing one. Imagine if it was the actual chandelier instead, what would have happened? What do you think, Professor Moriarty?”

“It would have resulted in a fire most likely, and due to the unique design of the chandelier more people would have gotten injured and certainly more than one would have died-“

“Hm, I thought so as well, good to know what I wrote in my book then was accurate.”

William glances at his darling who is just sitting there, not looking or speaking to him. The other man laughs at this and sets his paper down to look at the professor, a gleeful smile across his face.

“She almost refused to come, but we need to have closure on this whole affair so we can move on with our lives. A shame though, I quite enjoyed tracking her down with the others, it was like a competition to figure out what happened to her and who did it, and a bonus to beat the culprit at their own game, and it seems like I was the one to win, Professor William.”

William’s eyes drifted to where his darling sat in the box, her eyes still not going to meet the man who was publicly called her husband but who was in reality her worst nightmare.

“And if I may ask, how do you two know each other?”

“At an university funny enough, we were both invited to give lectures on our shared field of expertise, we became friends almost immediately and exchanged letter for a number of years when I lived in France, along with meeting up with a few of our colleagues to review our work-.”

“So you are an author as well, I do not think I have read any of your works.”

“Hm, that is a shame seeing as this meeting point revolved around my masterpiece, but I suppose you would like to cut to the chase.”

“Yes, as fun as this has been, I would rather her return-“

“Return with you? But that would mean you won, but you clearly did not, you lost. I invited you here so we can put this behind us.”

The man cut him off with a smile as if nothing was wrong, and it sent an almost thrilling shiver down William’s spine. He was about to reply to the man but then-

“Could you please leave William and I alone?”

She spoken up for the first time during this entire meeting, her eyes now snapping to glance at William for the briefest moments. The man gunned in response to her, standing up from his chair to leave the box, but as he passed William, he grabbed his shoulder-

“You may know how to murder people but rest assured so do I, after all both her and I write about it for a living. So try anything and I promise one of your friends will not be alive in the morning.”

The man’s cheerful tone had all but faded away and William hummed in acknowledgment to the threat right as he slipped out of the opera box, leaving William and his darling.

“Do not worry, he is bluffing, he does not have the heart to kill and nor do I.”

“Dearest…”

“I… I wanted to say goodbye, I figured it would be to cruel not to even after all the times you have done to me.”

“And how long do you think you can run?”

“Longer and faster than you can, and that became clear in my absence, you could not find me, so I think I will be fine. But I suppose if you find me again it is fair game, so… hm, what was that thing you told Mr. Holmes on the train with Louis and I that one time…”

She hums for a moment as she stands up from her seat, adjusting the gloves she wore as she prepared to leave. She stand before the Lord of Crime, looking him dead in the eye.

“Catch me if you can, Professor Moriarty.”

With that, she walked passed him, leaving the box and him alone as a smile came across his face…

“Oh you smart little thing…”

[ah-death]

Eda and Butch are menaces to society pt 2

Edalynn: I have an idea

Butch: A good one?

Edalynn: Let's not get ahead of ourselves.

Edalynn: My kink is saying some incredibly cornball shit and watching a person speed run the five stages of grief as they realize with horror that they still want to fuck me.

Charon: You are so fucking weird.

How was I supposed to know there’d be consequences for my actions?

- Edalynn probably

Random Stranger: *pointing at Edalynn* is that lady bothering you?

Gob: Yeah, but she's my wife, so I kinda signed up for it.

(after killing Moriarty)

Sheriff Simms: We’re talking about a man’s life.

Edalynn: Yeah, but he beat Gob, so it’s kind of, like, eh...

Gob: Just heard Eda call Dogmeat a “fucking liar” because he barked like someone was at the door and no one was there.

Random Rivet City Citizen in The Muddy Rudder: I dare you to-

Butch: Oh! No, Eda hasn’t been allowed to accept dares since we were 10.

Edalynn: According to my dad, I apparently have 'no regard for my personal safety'.

Edalynn: If I had shape-shifting powers, I’d abuse the hell out of them.

Edalynn: Like, If I was losing an argument, I’d just turn into their dead relative.

Butch: That’s genius!

Charon: … What the hell is wrong with you two?

Edalynn: You can trust me. Let’s not forget who pulled you out of the vault pool that time you almost drowned.

Butch: Let’s also not forget who pushed me in, you little—

Gob: You should treat others how you'd like to be treated.

Butch and Edalynn simultaneously: Killed without hesitation.

Nova: No!!!

Edalynn: *Discovers Butch left the vault and has been hanging out in the Muddy Rudder ever since*

Edalynn: How long have you been staying here?!?

Butch: Don’t try that. You know the concept of time confuses me.

Edalynn: Gob, you love me, right?

Gob: Normally, I’d say yes without hesitation no doubt, but I feel like this is going somewhere and I don’t like it.

Charon: The other day, I was upstairs in my room and I heard from downstairs in the livingroom Butch say “are you sure this is a good idea?” and Eda reply “trust me”.

Charon: I have never scaled a set of stairs so fast in my life.

Edalynn, to a Megaton citizen: On a scale from Gob to Butch, how impulsive are you feeling right now?

Butch: Okay, sure, I set the sink in the vault diner on fire one time because I thought I saw a radroach and you use me as a bad example for years to come.

Edalynn: First of all, I was using you as a bad example long before the Sink Fire of 2273, and I will use you as a bad example long after you’re dead and buried.

Edalynn: Second of all, don’t try to pretend that fire was an isolated incident.

Edalynn: You know, I’m learning some very valuable lessons out here in the wasteland.

Nova: I’m guessing they are all horrible distortions on the lessons you actually should’ve taken away

Edalynn: Death isn’t real, and I’m basically God.

Butch: I have plenty of in-depth knowledge about a multitude of subjects.

Edalynn: Oh yeah? I bet I can name something I know more about than you.

Butch: Oh yeah? Try me.

Edalynn: I know what the top shelf looks like.

Butch:…would you like to experience a slow and gruesome death?

Charon: *Frustrated from trying to get the Edalynn to be even remotely mindful of the danger she puts herself in* Have you ever won an argument with Edalynn?

Butch: No, when we were kids, I’d just beat ‘er up every time she'd start to argue with me.

Charon: What about now?

Butch: Now? She tells me to shut up, and I shut up.

Charon:

[Edalynn finding Butch in Rivet City]

Edalynn: The Greaser made it to Rivet City by itself?

Edalynn: I didn’t know it knew how to do that.

Gob: *using his medicine skills to check Edalynn for injuries after a tough fight* Well, I have your prognosis.

Gob: You’re a stage five dumbass.

Edalynn: *pulls out a chinese assault rifle*

Butch: How many of those do you have?

Edalynn: *pulls out another* How many do you need?

Butch: *complaining and whining during a trip around the wasteland*

Edalynn: You know, you’re talking a lot of shit for someone who has 2 perfectly good eyeballs each worth about 16,000 caps on the blackmarket.

Butch: You and me, this isn't working out.

Edalynn: Are you saying we should start annoying other people?

Edalynn, drunk: *points at Gob who's tending the bar* That’s my boyfriend, suckers!

Charon: Your husband, Eda.

Edalynn: My husband! Even better!

Gob: I can’t get Eda to come out of our room.

Butch: Just tell her I said something.

Gob: Like what?

Butch: Anything factually inaccurate.

Edalynn, running into the room, furious: You think tHE SUN IS A FUCKING PLANET?

Edalynn: And this is my older brother, Charon- Charon?

Charon, sobbing in the corner:

Butch: The only way to defeat a bully is to stand up to him!

Butch: Trust me, I have bullied a lot of people and have paid dearly for my transgressions in the form of Edalynn.

Gob: I did something terrible...

Edalynn: It’s okay babe, I have a shovel.

Gob: Wait, what do you think I did!?

Edalynn: It doesn’t matter, no one will ever know.

Edalynn: *pulls back curtain while Butch is showering*

Edalynn: Are we — stop screaming, its me — are we out of Nuka-Cola?

Edalynn: What are you, a cop? Fuck off.

Gob: Hunny..

Edalynn: Ok, sorry, one more time.

Priest:

Priest: Do you take this woman to be y-

Gob, trying to get to know Eda better: So Eda, what are your goals in life?

Edalynn: I've been banned from every major city's public transportation system except New Vegas. I don't know what their limit is but I will fucking find it.

Charon: Guys, since this looks like the end, I just wanted you to know… you’re not really the two people I wanted to die with.

Edalynn: Ditto.

Butch: Actually, I’d always planned on the three of us being buried together in a tomb.

Charon:

Edalynn: If we make it through this, you and I are having a serious talk.

Charon to the Edalynn: After many, many hours, I’ve come to most wretched of realizations. One that might curdle your very blood.

Charon: You are my friend.

Gob: *Knocks on door*

Edalynn: You can’t come in!

Gob: Why not?

Edalynn: Because, uh, Butch is naked!

Butch: What?

Edalynn: Well, I couldn’t tell him I was naked. He's allowed to see me naked.

Butch: Why does anyone have to be naked?

Butch: You saved me, Eda. I owe you my life!

Edalynn: No thanks. I’ve seen it and I’m not impressed.

*Edalynn and Butch hugging Charon*

Charon: Why are you squeezing me with your body?

Edalynn: It’s a hug, Charon. We're hugging you.

Edalynn: (knocking on Butch’s door) Butch! We need to go! Come out!

Butch: Ok fine, I’m bi!

Edalynn: Not what I meant, but I support you! NOW GET YOUR ASS OUT HERE—

[sokai-asuki]

Deep Blue Moon: "You're not real, aren't ya?"

This is in "A Study In 'S'" chapter part for Deep Blue Moon. I change all the characters role in here, tell me if there's something you would want to suggest to me about the characters, so that I would update something about them later.

(WARNING: GRAMMAR/TYPO)

"Before deciding this, are you really sure to do this? You do realize it might even cost your life..."

"Yes," said a man to Mrs. Hudson as she guarding one of the door behind her, "Besides, I think he knows about my condition. My body… Couldn't handle it much longer… If I'm gonna die, he also better off dead to know the cause of suffering he did to me…"

Mrs. Hudson looks unsure until the door behind her unlock.

"You must be Jefferson Hope, correct?"

Jefferson Hope, look up to a man at the door. There's also another person inside the room but he couldn't see the appearance of the said person.

"Don't worry, he will tell you the plan later on," said the man at the door, "After the plan been planted, the kids from downstairs will contact you later on."

The answer seems to be enough for Jefferson as he walk down the stairs and leave the 211B Baker Street.

Mrs. Hudson look at the man and glance at the man in the room, "Are you sure we could trust him, Sherlock?"

"That's what I've been thinking too, Sherlock... Are you sure a guy that has been seeking revenge to a noble that has done all wrong-doing, would follow the plan?"

"Yes..." Sherlock said, not looking up at the document he is currently reading, "A man like Jefferson Hope, hold a deeply grudge against the noble of our next target. It is justifically reasonable for him to hold the grudge, especially when the said grudge are this big. I say he has no set attachment to the world, considering he never say anything about his family... A person who had just lost someone he loves... A perfect kind of person to trust..."

Mrs. Hudson and John glance at each other and smile softly at their Sherlock, here he go again...

"If you say so, Sherlock..." Mrs. Hudson said, get used to Sherlock's next scheme.

"What about the noble you were talking about before?" Suddenly John's question has just arise, "Don't take me for a fool Sherlock, I know what you're going to do..."

Sherlock look at John and let out a chuckle, "You started to sound like Mycky..." then he pull out a smile for John, "Of course, his gonna make a debut in here, John. And I have a perfect role in mind, just for him..."

————

"Brother, I made a tea for you."

"Ah, thank you Louis," William James Moriarty said, he look up from the newspaper he had just read.

"Don't you think it's a bit late, brother? Don't you need sleep?" Louis asked in concern and worry for his brother's health.

"No, I think I can pass a few of my time to read. Besides, another noble murder had just been made again..."

Louis look at the newspaper William has been reading, the part of the last news about the noble's death again.

"...It seems like, someone had just stood up to take down the system of this rotten country..." William muttered but Louis could clearly hear him.

"Brother..."

Suddenly a knock can be heard from downstairs. Louis and William paused and look at each other and back to the door of Willaim's study room's door.

Louis finally goes to get the door from downstairs but Albert open the door before him.

"Gentlemen, is there a reason for this late night meeting?" Albert said at the people outside.

"Is William James Moriarty here?"

"Yes, I am his brother.... Mind telling me what you have bussiness with him?"

————

"He gets away..."

"...Inspector Lestrade, lying isn't suit for you, you know?" Sherlock let out a pout like a child when they found out something their parents has been teasing them non-stop, "You helped him, correct?"

"...Yes, I'm sorry Sherlock."

The plan for Jefferson that Sherlock gives are all been given out to the man but one extra thing is that Jefferson need to write William's full name to frame the man. The reason for that name is to test William.

It seems the Scotland Yard are too naive and glulible to believe that 'fake dying message'. And Sherlock knows Inspector Lestrade help William.

"But what I want to know is how he can make you to help him?" Sherlock said, even if he is a genius, Sherlock is very curious on how William do that.

"It-"

"It was me," a new voice help Inspector Lestrade, Sherlock look at the source of the voice, "I told Lestrade if William had asked him or Mr. Patterson to help him escape, then they should."

Sherlock looks like he want to tell Mycroft on why he did that but Mycroft beat him, "Sherly, I know how much you get bored if you found your puzzle has been taken away from you."

Mycroft can see Sherlock's face started to turn pink and turn away from his older brother, Mycroft sigh, "Besides, I think you would like to see how William exposed the nobles' sins, considered himself is a noble too..."

"..." Sherlock didn't say anything as Mycroft come closer to where Sherlock's chair is, patting his little brother's head.

"You did a good thing to let him escape, Inspector Lestrade. And Wiggins will come here-"

*knock knock*

"-Right now."

————

"Are you sure of this, Mr. Louis?"

"If it means, exposing the killer that frame William, I would do anything to help him just like how he help me." Louis said as held up a ring to check it.

It is an engagement ring, wedding ring, sad that the killer might doing this for his wife, whose a victim of that noble...

A knock has just come, Louis open the door, expecting the killer but turns out to be a kid with a cloak. It is understandle for a cloak to wear since it is raining right now. Louis can see the kid is a young boy, the cloak seems to be torn up but still has a use of it, unfortunetely because of the rain, he can't see much of the boy's appearances.

"Sorry to bothering you, mister. But in the newspaper, it has said you found a ring." The kid said, before Louis could say anything else, the kid beat him to it, "My sister name is Lucy, her name should be engraved on the ring? Or that was what she said..."

"Indeed," Louis said unsure to trust the kid. It could be a trap...

"Sister Lucy has been upset ever since her ring dissapear. She has just married last year. Her husband is out of town, I'm taking care of her now to make sure she's alright." The kid explained.

"Oh, is that so?" Louis' head started to feel dizzy, all of that has nothing to do with the case, "Here, make sure to tell your sister to be alright..."

"I will, thank you mister."

... "Fred, get Moran."

————

Wiggins knows he is being follow, but he knows this area more than whoever this person that follow him.

After he walks a bit faster, he get in the alley way and started to sprint faster. He can hear a heavy footstep.

Wiggins can sense the person is a man, and the man is in set ready to fight off the kid. Wiggins dodge the attack but the man is faster than he thought.

Suddenly the man is being ambushed by Reed and Yuri. The man took this as a surprised and back away as to not hurt kids that came out of nowhere.

Before Wiggins could run away, he hear the man shouted, "Fred, now!"

Wiggins look up and saw a young man, older than him but not much older like a man that follow him, seems to be trying to landed on him.

Thankfully Batora pulls Wiggins away from the landing. They saw the young man slowly standing and turn to Wiggins and Batora. Before he could do took a step forward suddenly another kid came and drop a marble on the ground in front of Fred.

The three kids ran away, Fred turn around and found Moran fall back. It seems Moran fall for that marble tricks. Reed, Yuri and another new kid ran away from the opposite side.

Moran sat up and hold his head, "Man, can't believe the mastermind brought kids in their group..."

————

Louis started to think back to everything that has been happening 2 days ago. Louis know William can protect himself but the worried feelings keep on swallowing him.

He is drinking a tea from a cafe, or at least this is the cafe Albert said to him because William want to tell Louis something urgent and related to the case. No matter what, Louis would protect William like how he protect Louis when they were younger.

"Louis, are you ready to go?"

Louis look up and saw his brother William, he cover himself with a cloak. Louis look behind his brother and found a carriage. Something is up...

And it is right on the gut, everything has been revealed to Louis as William explained. The noble, Enoch J. Drebber's wrong-doing, the victim, the cause of suffering he did to his other victims, and the killer... Jefferson Hope, the killer of Enoch J. Drebber and the coachman of the carriage they are in right now.

"BROTHER, WHAT THE–"

————

So the conditions are, if William willing to kill Jefferson than he will get the information of the mastermind and reveal that Jefferson is the culprit,

"How can I know about the mastermind when you're already gone?" He asked Jefferson that.

"Remember the kids," the topic about the kids brought Louis back to mind, Moran and Fred told him what happened to the ring, "You may not see them but they are around here, especially the leader of those kids' group."

The said leader was on the tree at Jefferson's side. The kid not look much older...

What's the other condition? Simple, not kill Jefferson and just handed him to the Scotland Yard but not getting the information of the mastermind.

"You finally get your goal and have your vengeance, so why me?" William said.

"That person, thinks highly of you. Even if I have no child, I know how that person feel when he spokes about you, admiring you like no other, and can't get you out of his head like a child can't get something out of theirs when there's something that unsolvable for them..." Jefferson said.

"Like a child, do you really think of this mastermind as a child?" William asked.

"Yes, but at the same time no. He is no ordinary one, no prodigy but very collective. Continue on with the plan as if time can't stop his plan, at that full night, even if it dark, I know the smells of blood is strong but with him, the blood started to wash away. He is a true criminal, a mastermind. Nothing can stop him no matter what until the dawn pick up and midnight strike. How's that, Mr. Moriarty... Does that get your curiosity?"

Everything is silence, nothing is spoken. The kid started to feel uncomfortable with the tension when suddenly a sound of gun being loaded appear.

On William's hand, a gun... And the said gun, pointed at Jefferson Hope.

Wiggins can see William's brother look at his brother with disbelief and yelling at his brother, protesting on what his brother is planning right now. Jefferson seems to be encouraged William to end him, end his story, end him so he could meet his Lucy again but knows heaven will never accept a killer like him.

Then the sound gunshot being heard. So loud to the point the crows are flying away from the scene.

However, instead of someone being dead, Jefferson is alive and still breathing. William purposely missing the shot and still give Jefferson that smile, the smile of him knows everything and yet not everyone knows it.

"Jefferson Hope... Hope... You really hoping I killed you? No, I'm not." William said as he lower the gun, "I know you may not believe me when I said this since I too am a noble but, I really admire your determination for still keep up with this plan even if it might cost you your life. I do want to know the mastermind but if it's a game that the mastermind wants, then I don't mind playing the role of the game he made."

"Brother..." Louis looks like he is in the verge of crying. His brother always make something so surprising...

William look at Louis and smile, "Sorry for scaring you Louis,"

"No, it's okay." Louis wipe a small tear on his eyes and finally look at his brother, "I'm just, glad you still..."

William know what Louis would say, he look back at Jefferson and turn to the kid at the tree, "Hey kid, by any chance, do you have a spare cuff?"

Wiggins landed on the ground and slowly walk towards William, them pulled out a rope. He give William the rope as he tossed it on the floor until it in front William.

"And, tell him," William grab the rope and glance around him, knowing the other kids are ready to leave, "That I gladly play this game of cat and mouse."

Finally, the kids gone. William tied up Jefferson's hand.

————

"He... He really did it..."

That's the first thing John said as he read the latest newspaper again and again to confirm what Wiggins said.

A noble exposed Enoch J. Drebber’s sins and exposed the real killer of Enoch J. Drebber. William James Moriarty...

His not a detective and yet, solve the case so easily...

"Seems like letting him escape with Inspector Lestrade's help was necessary in your part, Mycky..."

"But all of the plans was yours, brother mine. So don't give me too much credit..." Mycroft said as he pat Sherlock's head. Sherlock always let himself calm when his brother did something like this but now, his thought about William solving the case was just...

"He is in a place where he could get the information and yet, he denied it..." Inspector Lestrade said as he think back what happened at the Scotland Yard station, William walk in with Jefferson, his hand tied up together.

Then the motive and behind the scene of the murderer being reveal and also with Jefferson agreed with everything.

"I think, Mr. William is really unlike us, Inspector Lestrade." Mrs. Hudson said, as she handed out teas for everyone, "Unlike us, a victim of the nobles, I believe he find the error of the nobles and it system... Yes, he himself is a noble but maybe, there's something about him–"

"That makes it interesting..." Sherlock cut off Mrs. Hudson, as he think back to what he heard about the Moriarty...

The Moriarty adopted a child from the orphanage, keyword; child. No plural. Moriarty have two sons, Albert James Moriarty and William James Moriarty... But unlike his Albert, who always run an errand for his family, William never goes outside. No one knows what the second son look like or act...

'Ah... Liam... You are not the real William, aren't ya?'

Sherlock chuckle at the thought...

————