Imagine your father Robert Downey Jr. likes your boyfriend.
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Uncle Locky (Sherlock X Niece!Reader)
Characters: Sherlock Holmes X Niece!Reader, Mycroft X Daughter!Reader
Request: Before I begin I just want to say I am a huge fan of your blog, its pretty great. Anyway, I was wondering if you could do a one shot where the reader is Mycroft's infant daughter and is being babysat by Sherlock and there is just a whole lot of fluff. Thanks!!
“Sherlock?” John called as soon as he entered the apartment. Sherlock looked up, looking confused. “Why are you cleaning the apartment? You never clean.” John mentioned, looking around the space. All experiments were hidden from sight, books were on the bookshelf, and piles of cases were hidden away from sight. The floor was clear and the furniture was wiped down.
“We’re having a guest coming in an hour.” Sherlock dismissed calmly, but that only confused the doctor more. Sherlock didn’t care much for presentation for guests, so why was this one different.
“Okay… and who is our guest again?” John asked, crossing his arms.
“My niece, Y/N.” Sherlock answered, this time not looking up as he tidied up the table. John blinked, taking in the information.
“Wait-wait-wait-wait- you have a niece? Mycroft has a daughter?” John asked in total disbelief. It seemed surreal for Mycroft to even have the capability to handle having sexual relations, never mind having a kid.
“Mycroft is very private when it comes to his daughter- has been since she was born. More for her safety. I only really see her on her birthdays, holidays and when I visit Mycroft- which is never, so pardon my strange behaviour, but I’m going to enjoy my time with my little niece.” Sherlock explained, finally standing up straight, and putting his hands on his back as he stretched, pleased with his work.
John unfortunately couldn’t stay long, due to him being called back into work, but Sherlock assured he’d be fine. He was rather confident, actually, so John got his coat back on, and headed back outside. He got just onto the road, when he saw Mycroft making his way up, and holding his umbrella. Attached to the end of the umbrella was a little hand that was tugging the umbrella and the man along and the hand belonged to a little toddler, no older than two years old. Mycroft took notice of the man, sending a subtle smile. “Dr Watson.” He greeted. The little girl looked up at the man, and John knelt down to her.
“Nice to see you Mycroft. Sherlock mentioned he was having a guest.” John commented, offering his hand to you. You put your hand in his palm, and he carefully shook it. “Hello, what’s your name?” He asked quietly to you.
“Y/N.” Mycroft answered for you. “She hasn’t learnt to say her name yet.” John nodded in understanding.
“Well I won’t stop you, hope to see you both soon.” John dismissed himself, continuing his way down the road while Mycroft and Y/N entered the apartment complex.
Sherlock heard the little footsteps as well as the larger ones coming up the stairs, until Mycroft was in the doorway, ushering his little girl into the room. The girl was timid at first, but as soon as she saw her uncle, she beamed, rushing over to him with open arms. “Uncle Locky!” You squealed. Sherlock didn’t hesitate to kneel down and pick the little one up from under her arms, resting her bum on his arm as the toddler latched her arms around his neck, nuzzling into him.
“It’s nice to see you as well Y/N. Good to see you remember me.” Sherlock commented.
“Of course she remembers you brother, her nickname for you was her first word.” Mycroft reminded with a minor bitter tone in his voice, which only caused the younger Holmes to smirk. “Well, I’ll be off. I’ll be back tomorrow afternoon. Her clothes are in this bag, and you know her bedtime.” Mycroft dismissed, sending a small wave to his daughter, before leaving the pair of you alone.
“Alright Y/N.” Sherlock announced. You paid a little attention at the mention of your name, but you were also a little too infatuated with his curly locks, which your little fingers were now latched into. “Do you want to do something fun?” He asked. You had little to no idea what he said, but his tone of voice and smile made you excited enough to kick your legs and nod.
John arrived home after the sun had long gone down, rather tired, but he felt sorry for Sherlock. He just knew you were an active spirit and he worried you’d be too much for the detective. He came into the complex to see Mrs Hudson coming down the stairs as quietly as possible. She shushed him, pointing up the stairs before continuing on her way to her apartment. John carefully went up the stairs, reaching the door and carefully peeking inside. He relaxed when he caught the sight inside, and smiled.
Sherlock was stretched out on the couch, eyes focussed down at you. You were fast asleep on your uncle’s chest, holding tightly onto him, your head turned to the television, that was still playing kid shows but on silent. “She been asleep long?” John asked with a whisper. Sherlock looked over the couch at the doctor, who was leaning on it.
“About five minutes. I’ll put her to bed when I’m certain she won’t wake up.” Sherlock explained.
“What kind of things has she gotten up to?” John asked, starting to shrug off his jacket.
“I took her to the aquarium, the park and then we played pirates, and when she got tired we watched television for about half an hour.” Sherlock explained. John smiled contently. “We had fun.”
“Good, good. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” John dismissed, heading to bed. Sherlock stayed a few minutes later, before turning the television off, and sitting up, still holding you close. You shifted a little, making little noises.
“Y/N? Do you want to sleep alone or with me?” Sherlock whispered to you.
“Locky please.” You murmured. Sherlock smiled, standing up, and heading to bed.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @loserporg @captain-peanut-at-your-service @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @marveloussupernatural @aesthetjic @originalpottervengerlock @holy-tea-cup
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Benedict cumberbatch, Rupert Graves & his daughter Probably the cutest thing ever
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they are family they love each other very much
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Being Sherlock’s Child Would Involve...
Being Sherlock’s child would involve:
There’s no two ways about it: you’d be a smart ass.
With your family, (your dad, your uncle, even John) it was kind of inevitable, but you’re not as annoying with it as your father.
Sherlock teaching you lots of the skills he likes, only to be slightly disappointed when you’re less focused on that and more into art. He soon warms up to it when he sees your drawing him and you. As a family.
He proudly hangs it on the fridge.
Lestrade, even after you are born, still not quite believing that Sherlock had a child. Has a child.
John and Mary babysitting you.
When you got to school and Sherlock picks you up, a lot of the parents either think your dad is attractive or are immediately off put by him. You think the reaction is hilarious each time.
Making friends quite easily.
Your friends love your dad because he has a cool job and solves crimes; you don’t think he’s that big of a deal, but it is always a good way to scare the people you don’t like. Telling them that you can hide their body and it would never be found.
You get in trouble for that comment.
Personally, Sherlock finds it a little funny, but as a parent goes into the meeting trying to act at least disappointed in you. He can’t manage anger.
Him feeling proud that you’re fitting in so well.
His parents, your grandparents, visiting him all the time. Much to his uncomfort, you like them visiting and spending time with them. You also get along with your Uncle Mycroft which frustrates the hell out of him as well.
Sherlock being hopeless in your teenage years. He does not know how to deal with your... everything. Especially relationships.
Growing up feeling loved and feeling like you could do anything.
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Deduce (Mycroft X Child!Reader)
Characters: Mycroft x Child!reader
Warnings: Anxiety attack
Reqeust: Could I get a parent! Mycroft (if you write for him, if not John) where the reader call deduce but has anxiety? Thank you!
You had a close relationship with you Uncle Sherlock, having had this close relationship since you were very little, much to your father’s dismay. Sherlock would often use your close bond with him to make Mycroft do things for him to make you happy and when you were a little older, you would very happily use yourself as a distraction so Sherlock could get away with whatever he needed. However you knew Sherlock did care about you, proven by the first time you had an anxiety attack in front of him.
Your anxiety showed its face about the time you started secondary school, and your father and uncle took the news pretty well. They weren’t exactly normal themselves, so finding out you had your own problem was expected, and they were prepared. Sherlock learned quickly what some of your signs were of your anxiety taking effect, and your father also picked up on them and would use his more calm personality to soothe you when it got out of hand.
What didn’t help was the fact that you’d learnt how to deduce from hanging out with your uncle so much. You could analyse your surroundings down to the specs of dust on the table, and at times it would make your anxiety worse, because of something negative was found, then your mind would then make it even worse.
This had happened yet again.
Mycroft and Sherlock had met at a small restaurant to discuss somethings and they’d brought you along. In the middle of Mycroft talking, Sherlock looked away, and ended up seeing you. “Y/N?” He asked, concern in his voice. Mycroft turned to see you, seeing you showing several signs of bad anxiety, bordering on an attack.
“Hey, hey it’s alright?” Your father’s voice was soft and quiet as he rested his hand on your shoulder to distract you. “What’s wrong?”
“U-Um… the woman who’s sat across the room… she just got up to go to the bathroom… she’s wearing a necklace with the same coloured diamonds in it that was found at the crime scene, and one was missing from it.” You explained. “She caught me staring a-and-”
“Shh, it’s alright… Sherlock, go.” Mycroft said, though Sherlock was up and rushing away before his brother had given the command. Your dad took you outside to get fresh air, putting an arm around you and letting you hug him. Your anxiety calmed, finally becoming minimal when police arrived and Sherlock emerged with the woman who was in handcuffs.
“Good work Y/N, you’re getting better than me. Don’t go replacing me now.” Sherlock commented, giving a small wink that made you smile, and you returned the wink.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @gayasfridge @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @captain-peanut-at-your-service @likiyoshi-lijie @aesthetjic @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lena-stan-xavier @lady-of-lies @sebstanismylife @macbetheliza @imbuckypositive @holy-tea-cup @waywardemo
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Watson was saying that you might have some concerns about our living arrangement, so I was thinking that perhaps I could allay them.
Season 6, Episode 8.
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Games I’ve Played: 2018
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Not Feeling Loved (Sherlock X Daughter!Reader)
Characters: Sherlock X Daughter!Reader, Mycroft X Niece!Reader
Request: Idk if you still do Sherlock stuff but if you do can you do a Sherlock x daughter!reader, she runs away to mycrofts bc she doesn't think Sherlock is paying any attention to her? And he and John ki da freak out cause she's not there but they eventually find her at his brothers house.
You had hesitated to pick up the phone when it had started to ring, your uncle’s contact showing up. You ended up biting your lip and clicking the green button and putting it to your ear. “Hi Uncle Mycroft.” You answered.
“Hello Y/N.” He greeted warmly like he always did. He never answered boredly or coldly, always warm and you could feel his smile through the phone of hearing your voice. It didn’t matter how bad of a day he had, he still called you every day and if possible came and saw you. You liked that. You could always rely on him… which is why you’re doing what you’re doing now. “How are you? What did you have for dinner?”
“I um… I haven’t had dinner… Uncle Mycroft?” You asked him.
“Yes my dear?”
“Can you open your door? Please?”
You heard rushed footsteps over the phone before he tore open his door, taking in the sight of you alone with just a backpack. You gave a sheepish smile and ended the call. Mycroft reached out, putting an arm around you and ushering you in, no questions asked. “Are you hungry? I’ve got something for you- need anything else? How did you get here?” He asked you, walking you to his kitchen, pulling out a chair to sit you down in before he rushed to the cupboards.
“I walked here.” You admitted after sitting down, and his search for food for you came to a halt as he turned to you.
“You… walked? From the apartment? That’s roughly 10 miles! It’s pitch black outside, what if something happened to you, what if someone tried to hurt you? You should have called, I would have come got you!” He scolded out of pure worry, a hand on his hip.
“I’m sorry but…”You started before looking sheepish. “You’re the only one who would care if something happened to me.” You told him, looking down at the table, your hands fumbling with your sleeves under the table. There was silence for a moment, before Mycroft came and slid into the seat beside you.
“What makes you say that?” He inquired.
“Dad doesn’t care about me… He won’t even look at me, the last time he looked at me was to yell at me because I got frustrated and raised my voice, and that was like a week ago… I’ve tested it, you know? Just sitting there and seeing when he’d talk to me without me initiating it and he… he never did. John asks how I am at least, sometimes asked why I look upset but it’s not his job to care, but he’s doing a better job then dad and… I don’t feel loved there, but I know you care about me… can I stay here for a little bit? I promise I won’t get in your way, I just can’t be there anymore.” You begged to your uncle, who listened intently, a frown on his face as he reached and took your hand, giving you a squeeze.
“You can stay for as long as you’d like… Now, let’s get you some food.”
Mycroft made sure you got to school safely and promised to pick you up that afternoon, and then he waited. He requested from his assistant that if his brother called, to transfer Sherlock to him immediately. He thought maybe he’d call in the morning when he realised he hadn’t seen you get up for school, but apparently not… soon Mycroft had gone to your school, picked you up and drove you home, and it was when you were sat doing homework with Mycroft sat beside you trying to offer some help when the phone rang. By that point he’d nearly forgotten.
“Mycroft? Have you heard from Y/n? I haven’t seen her and I’m worried-” It was Sherlock, and Mycroft visibly tensed, and you noticed, looking up at him. Mycroft gave you a look to give you the answers you were looking for, and you looked down and continued with your homework, and he pardoned himself from your presence.
“She’s with me. She has been since last night.” He informed his brother, who was quick to silence. “She showed up in the middle of the night. She walked here, Sherlock. Anything could have happened to her, Sherlock, we live in London for god’s sake!” He hissed over the phone though he tried to keep his voice under a certain volume to assure you didn’t hear. Again, silence. “What did it take for you to finally pay her an ounce of attention to notice you hadn’t seen her in 24 hours?”
“...Is she alright?”
“... She’s fine, she’s doing homework, and she wants to stay here for the time being. I suggest not showing up unannounced because you’ll just make her upset right now… what the hell are you playing at, Sherlock? She’s your daughter and from what she’s told me you’ve only looked in her vicinity this past week to yell at her, she’s feeling neglected and that’s because she is. What happened to promising that she’d be your first priority no matter what?”
“It’s not me you should be apologising to!” Mycroft snapped, finally raising his voice, before realising and looking back to make sure he hadn’t disturbed you. “Don’t come around immediately. Let me talk to her. The last thing we need is her getting upset and taking off again.” He said and hung up, not waiting for a goodbye. He sighed, putting his hands on his hips and wondering how long it would take for you to agree to talk to your father, if that was even possible.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @aesthetjic @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @esoltis280 @lena-stan-xavier @lady-of-lies @sebstanismylife @macbetheliza @mandywholock1980 @cdwmtjb8 @caswinchester2000 @determinedpines @holy-tea-cup @waywardemo @sassy-specter
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One day Sherlock and his and John’s daughter are feeding the ducks (and playing pirates) at the park, when a little old lady comes up to them and comments how lucky his daughter is to have such a fun and attentive Papa. Little Miss Watson-Holmes looks at her funny, then frowning says “He’s not my Papa!”
The old woman looks at Sherlock with slight alarm, and Sherlock’s stomach drops. It was the moment he was dreading but knew would come eventually (though he thought he’d have a little more time before it did), the moment she realized John was her real father, her real parent, and Sherlock was just pretending, a poor stand in.
Sherlock’s about to explain the situation, that he adopted his husband’s daughter and wasn’t a kidnapper, when the little girl pipes up again; “He’s my Daddy! My Papa’s over there getting us ice cream.”
The woman smiles, and laughs, saying she stands corrected, and Sherlock feels a wave of relief as the massive weight lifts from his shoulders.
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they took a celebratory pic because iris made her first invention!
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Pushing Limits (Sherlock X Daughter!Reader)
Characters: Sherlock X Daughter!Reader
Warnings: Drugs and use, alcohol, presumed overdose and mixing, stealing
Request: Are you willing to write a Sherlock!daughter fic? That would be amazing! Maybe she is in her teenage years (like 15-17) and she wants to know how far she can push her dad. (Not attending school, drinking, perhaps even taking some of his drugs) It‘s no problem at all if you aren’t comfortable with that. :)
Your dad was known for being impatient and always rushing around to get things done. He’d snap at anyone for even the smallest things. Except you, it seems.
In your whole 15 years of being his life as his daughter, you were yet to see your snap at you. He was far too patient with you, and you’d been told this several hundred times by several hundred people, including your Uncle.
You and your father were a match made in heaven when it came to causing mischief. He would solve cases and rub it in everyone’s face as he did it, and he wasn’t the most law abiding person ever. Because he was able to get away with everything, that opened a door for you to do the same and not face consequences due to your over protective father covering you tracks and not punishing you due to being far to calm, and saying ‘you’re just like me when I was your age, there’s nothing wrong with exploring.’
Needless to say, you were a little brat when you wanted to be.
So, after breaking countless laws, and driving Lestrade, John and your uncle up the wall, you decided to do your own little experiment- how much can you get away with until your dad finally puts his foot down?
You started with small stuff. You followed him around on a case. He didn’t like bringing you on them for clear reasons, but when you asked hard enough, he let you. The entire time you spent prying into places you weren’t supposed to, especially in people’s homes, just for the owner to yell at you, and have Sherlock have to get them back on track, and kindly ask you to stop. You’d stop for about thirty seconds, before continuing your little scavenging hunt. This didn’t work. He just repeated himself till you got bored.
Next you decided to sneak off during school, and go home. Your dad was a little strict when it came to your education, making it very clear that he wanted you to go to get an education and he showed great interest in how you went on during lessons. He offered advice with homework and always made sure you were doing well in lessons, but when he did get calls home saying you’d done something mischievous, he found humour in it rather than anger. You managed to be at home for half an hour before your dad showed up and walked you back to school, not even looking a little upset.
It was at this point you knew you had to step your game up. Majorly.
Your next plan came with two parts, both would be done separately and then wait until he figured it out. First, you talked some older kids in your school to buy you alcohol as well as stealing some from your Uncle Mycroft, and spent the weekend drinking the bottles and kept them in your room, waiting to be found. You did it on the weekend since your dad tended to be working on those nights. Next, you had to be vigilant and find out where your dad hid his drugs. Eventually you found them, and took the smallest amount, but still took enough to get noticed by him. You thought to just throw it away… but hey, it’s you, so you gave it a shot.
It didn’t take long for your dad to piece together what he had done. Mycroft had informed him that some of his alcohol had gone missing since you ‘popped by to say hi’, and when he came home to try and find the bottles, he instead found you on your bed shaking, and it only took him a quick visit to his stash to figure out what you had done.
“Y/N! What the hell were you thinking?!” He asked, grabbing your head and making you look at him, allowing him to see your heavily dilated pupils. He looked around, and after a quick feel under the bed, located the empty bottles. “God dammit Y/N! Are you trying to kill yourself?” He asked, barely getting a response from you. The first thought that went through his head was that you had took both, and that was a deadly cocktail, and he knew it. He’d never want his own flesh and blood to become like him, especially in the aspect of his addictions. He felt vulnerable and terrified, so did the only thing he could.
“JOHN!” The doctor shot up to Sherlock calling him desperately- something he’d never heard before. He ran over to the source, quickly seeing Sherlock knelt down in front of you, holding your face between his hands, clearly unsure on what to do next. John’s medical training kicked in as he quickly pushed Sherlock aside, checking your pulse, feeling it rushing and catching sight of your pupils. “Sherlock, has she-“
“Yes, she took some of mine, I didn’t know! I think she mixed it with some alcohol she stole from Mycroft.” Sherlock explained quickly and impatiently. John quickly came close to your face, not smelling alcohol, which was a sign of relief.
“Y/N, how much did you take?” He asked strictly to you, grabbing your shoulders.
“Only a little bit.” You admitted. “I didn’t think I’d react so badly.”
Sherlock was pulling on his hair as John finished his evaluation of you. “Alright… she isn’t having an overdose, and she hasn’t mixed it. I know you don’t want her going to the hospital, so the only thing I can recommend is just keeping her laid down and relaxed until it wears off, which should be in the next few hours.” John recommended. Sherlock sighed with relief, finally releasing his hair, only for John to grab his arm. “Sherlock, you need to discipline her. This could be the start down a bad path, and she’s your responsibility.” John hissed in his ear, before leaving you both alone.
Sherlock stayed right next to you while the drug wore off. He barely moved, his eyes only moving between the floor whenever you even moved a little bit. Eventually when it was all over, there was a painful silence between you both… but he didn’t let go of your hand.
“Y/N…” You gulped, knowing you’d reached your goals. You’d overstepped that extremely high boundary, and now, looking back, you regretted every second of it. You realised he had more patience with you than with others, before he actually cared and loved you, and he couldn’t find it in him to have that hated to yell at you. Now you’d got him to the point of yelling, but it was because of utter fear and hopelessness- terrified he was losing one of the only people he gave a damn about: his own daughter. It didn’t matter if he was a bad role model at times… he was your dad, and you loved him to bits, and knowing you’d caused him pain, was breaking your heart. “What the hell were you thinking?” He asked. He was attempting to scorn you, but didn’t do a good job. It honestly didn’t matter, cause you were feeling awful all the same.
“I-I’m sorry… I wasn’t thinking… I-I…” You thought about telling him your little plan, but realised it was a stupid idea from the beginning, and you would have seen that earlier if you didn’t have his stubbornness. You were too embarrassed to admit to him your original plan, realising it would only upset him more.
“I know you were trying to how much you could push my buttons, but I didn’t think you’d go this far…” Sherlock sighed. You wanted to hide in the sheets, now knowing he knew the entire time. “Just… don’t you dare do anything like this again, do you hear me?” He asked, finally getting some strength in his voice to be strict. You nodded firmly in understanding.
“I promise, never again dad. I promise. I’m sorry, I really am.” You swore. You definitely had no plan to pull a stunt like this again.
Hope you like it! If you have any questions, please send them in!
*Not my gif
TAGS: @courtneychicken @graysonmalfoy @bellero @loserporg @captain-peanut-at-your-service @likiyoshi-lijie @sebstanchrisevanchickforever19 @marveloussupernatural @aesthetjic @originalpottervengerlock @supernatural-pan @imbuckypositive @holy-tea-cup
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Netflix is like: We are releasing a show about Sherlocks daughter. And then we are releasing a show which is actually called „Sherlocks daughter“. And on top of that - to confuse everyone even more - we release a movie called Enola Holmes, which is again not related to any of the previous two Sherlock Holmes adaptations.“
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Being Moriarty’s Adopted Daughter, And Sherlock Visiting You Would Involve...
Being Moriarty’s adopted daughter, and Sherlock visiting you would involve:
The first time he visits you, it is definitely more of a kidnapping- but you don’t fear for your safety.
Sherlock isn’t dumb enough to hurt you.
He insists he isn’t kidnapping you- he didn’t force you to go anywhere with him... It was more like coercing if anything. But you’re curious, and just like your father, Sherlock piques your interest.
Sherlock takes you to the cafe below his apartment; it’s the most convenient place for him and he knows if he puts up a front with you, you’ll just figure it out and call bull shit on him. So, he’s up front. Not that this doesn’t mean you don’t ask questions.
You want all the information you can get from him.
[“So, why of all places here? Can’t imagine it’s because of the dazzling reviews...”
“You haven’t figured it out? Maybe I’ve overestimated you.”
“I’d watch your tone, Holmes. Far too many people have misinterpreted me- and not too many live to tell the tale. I was simply asking a question.”
“Hm, and you want an answer?”
“If you’d be so kind.”
“It’s local. Nothing more than that.”
“Don’t get sentimental on me, Sherlock.”]
You let him ask his questions too, of course, but you’re very calculated and don’t give away much.
Part of you knows you’re only getting this attention because he wants to know more about your father, but you can’t help but enjoy your little meetups with him.
Part of you even hopes that he enjoys them too.
After your father dies -and Sherlock with him- your life becomes far less interesting.
You fall into a dull rhythm and you mourn both losses- but not for long. Sherlock soon reappears in your life and you’re both annoyed at yourself for not figuring out that he wasn’t really dead and annoyed at him for faking his death in the first place.
[“The way you’re speaking- it almost sounds like you missed me.”
“Don’t get all sentimental on me, Y/N.”]
You almost hate him- almost, but ever since your father died, you can’t bring yourself to push more people out of your life.
So, you let him stay, if only until your revenge is plotted.
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Sherlock Holmes x John Watson: Loss
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my faves but they swap outfits
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Mycroft x Daughter!Reader + Uncel!Sherlock - Special Family Reunion
A/N: This took me forever. It has some dialogues and situations from the final problem but I changed it to fit the story better.
Request came from anon
Thanks to my beta reader @true-queen-of-mischief
Requests are open
Masterlist of 2017
GIF IS NOT MINE!
Word Count: 2.970 (I regret nothing)
Confusion was written all over your face as Anthea walked into your class, demanding that you had to leave school. Your teacher was just as confused as you but as the young woman handed him a piece of paper he nodded and you grabbed your stuff to follow the assistant of your father.
In the car, you sat beside her. Her eyes were darted to the front while you looked at her, trying to get some sort of information out.
“Tell me what is happening, Anthea, please.” You begged after minutes of silence but she didn’t respond to you.
Giving up your questioning, you looked out the window. “Why are we driving to Baker Street?” you suddenly asked as you realized where you two were driving to. You hadn’t visited your Uncle in quite some time and that is exactly what surprised you.
As you two arrived at Baker Street, you immediately walked out of the car. Anthea close behind you calling your name and demanding to stay by her. But before you could open the old, dark wooden door with the golden numbers on it, a loud explosion caused you to fall to the ground while Anthea ran up to you, trying to cover you.
You could make out some screaming and an ambulance in the distance. Your vision was blurry and your ears were ringing. Luckily, Anthea nor you were hurt badly. Only a few scratches here and there.
On the ground you could make out two figures. It was your Uncle and his friend. As fast as you could you stood up from the dirty ground, running up to both men who groaned in pain.
“Uncle Sherlock! John.” You shouted at them as you made your way them. Both got up slowly and looked around. John was the first one to notice you.
“(Y/N)? What are you doing here?” he asked while Sherlock rubbed the dirt from his shirt.
You shrugged your shoulders and kept your now messy (Y/H/C) ponytail out of your face. “I don’t know. Anthea picked me up from class and we drove here. Then everything just exploded.” You explained to him and Sherlock rolled his eyes.
“I told him it was a bad Idea.” He mumbled and you tilted your head at him. Did that mean your father was in the flat as well?
“Where is father?” you asked them both and they looked each other and then back to the flat. The door opened and an all dirtied Mycroft walked out together with a shocked Mrs. Hudson in his arms.
You were relieved to see that he was alright. His gaze landed on you. “(Y/N), are you alright?” he asked and cough a bit and you nodded tears brimming the edge of your eyes.
In the hospital were everyone was checked up on, your Uncle and father told you everything that had happened in the flat. That you had an Aunt locked up, because of her psychotic and smart mind, after she set fire to their old home. How a drone with a bomb was set on the flat and 221 b Baker Street blew up.
“So, what are we going to do?” you asked your father, your Uncle giving you a smile because of how energetic you were, while your father looked at you with a serious look on his face.
“You, young Lady, you go back home with Anthea and stay there.” He demanded and you scoffed, shaking your head.
“Yeah, of course, you tugged me out of class and brought me to Baker Street only to go home again? Sorry, father, but this won’t happen.” You crossed your arms over your chest stubbornly.
“You are just like your mother.” He mumbled under his breath as he pinched his nose with his thumb and index finger.
“Oh, come on Brother.” Sherlock said a tad bit too sweetly. “We could use a smart mind on this.” He looked at you with a mischief smile.
Your uncle might be as cold as a rock but deep down, you knew, he was just like a child. While your father supported you on important tasks like school, Sherlock supported you in the things you enjoyed doing. The typical fun uncle.
Mycroft huffed as he grabbed his umbrella. “Alright. But you do as I tell you, do I made myself clear, (Y/N)?” he looked at you his dark eyes boring into your (Y/E/C) ones and you nodded at him with a smile, kissing his cheek and hugging your uncle shortly. John and you exchanged a smile.
Right now, you sat together with John and your father in the security room. A simple makeover of your father and it was easy to get him out of the hospital and onto the boat that your uncle had pirated. The Governor showed you three the tapes of Eurus threptic sessions and you were impressed.
She really had an ability to manipulate people’s minds. You noticed John frown as he took a glance at the Governor while the Tape played in the background. Mycroft took your hand and in a split second all three of you reached for the door to escape.
Eurus knew you would be coming. She manipulated everyone on this island. You were trapped like rats. The alarm went off and the Governor gazed up you with an apologetic look. “I am sorry.” He whispered as three guards walked in and dragged all three of you out.
After that you were knocked out and everything turned blank.
As you woke up you found yourself in a game of pure horror and fear. A game Eurus wanted to play with her family. A game that meant live or die.
No matter how hard you all worked on the puzzles people died and died. It didn’t stop. Men were drowned in the sea even when Sherlock found out who the murder actually was. Luckily Molly survived but Eurus played with all of you. All your feelings boiled up.
In your uncle it grew as anger, John tried to stay calm and collected but fear stroke his every being. Your father stood strong, showing you not be afraid but deep down you could feel that he felt the guilt eating up on him.
And you? You felt as if you could be drowned any moment. Not able to take a quick breath. You couldn’t control your body anymore, it was shaking like leaves in the autumn wind.
It sapped your energy and you didn’t leave your father’s side anymore, always clinging onto him. It reminded you of old times. Your six-year-old self, clinging onto your father’s leg while you two walked down the Streets of London.
These thoughts kept you going further.
“(Y/N)? (Y/N) wake up.” Your shoulder was being shaken by someone as you opened your eyes and groaned in pain. As you opened your eyes you could see John in front of you, eyeing you carefully while your father stood right behind him.
Holding your head, you looked up at him. “What happened?” you asked trying to get up with the help of the ex-army Doctor.
You, your father, your Uncle and John were in a cell together with the head of security. The voice of a little girl sounded in the cell. She said something about an airplane and everyone being asleep. It confused you, the girl didn’t sound as scared as she should be.
But before anything else could be found out, the connection broke and Eurus could be seen from a TV that they had in the cell.
“Let’s play a game. If you want to be reconnected to the girl you have to choose, Sherlock.” Her eyes never left her brother’s and the smile didn’t falter.
“I want you to choose. Kill your best friend John Watson” she pointed to John. “Or our big brother.” She turned to Mycroft and your heart stopped for a moment.
Carefully you took your Father’s hand in yours, scared that he might be gone, way too soon. Without looking at you, he squeezed your hand for comfort.
Mycroft shook his head. “I am sorry, Doctor.” John looked up at your Father and Sherlock did the same.
“Excuse me, what?” John asked as he got closer, while Eurus watched in delight at the scenes before her.
“Well, it is all about Sherlock and me. I am sorry Doctor but your journey end here.” He said and Sherlock who held the gun in hand gazed at his brother shocked.
“Shoot him, already.” Your father yelled, still holding your hand. But you shook your head.
“It is only us now Sherlock. You and me.” Loosening the grip of the hand of your father, you stood before him.
“Don’t make him choose. John is part of this family as well. This is not fair.” You shouted at him. Eurus laughed in the background.
John grabbed your shoulder and stopped you. “(Y/N), it is alright. Your Father is right.” Tears started to fall from your face and Sherlock looked to the ground.
You didn’t know when everything had turned out this bad, but when your Father started to talk bad about Sherlock and John it didn’t make things easier.
“Stop it, already. Stop lying in front of your daughter.” Confused, you and John turned to Sherlock as he gazed up again.
“He just tries to make it easier for me to shoot him.” He explained to both of you. Grabbing your father’s shoulders, your eyes met with his.
“Are you crazy?!” you shouted at him, the tears freely falling down your cheeks. But he pushed you away back to John who got a hold of you, before you could crumble to the ground, as your uncle lifted the gun and pointed it at his brother.
“But not the brain. That’s for the science department.” Sherlock scoffed a bit at him.
“So, what would suit you best?” he asked still holding the gun up. While your father corrected his tie he looked into his brothers eyes.
“Well,” he said not showing any sign of regret at his decision. “I suppose there is a heart somewhere inside me. Why don’t we try that?” for a split-second Sherlock smiled at his brothers reaction and answer.
While you stood there not knowing how to stopped this madness, John approached them both, standing in between them. Trying to get to a more human-like solution.
“This is my fault.” Your father said. “Moriarty.” The name made the room seem even more colder than it actually was.
“Moriarty?” Sherlock whispered under his breath.
“A Christmas treat. She had a conversation with Jim Moriarty, five years ago.” Slowly, Sherlock lowered the gun down a bit, eying his brother carefully.
“What did they discuss?” Sherlock asked his voice was serious and you knew, in less than a minute, everything would turn around.
“They had a conversation. Unsupervised.” You could see by the way he said it, he regretted what he did while John turned away not believing what your father had done.
Once again, Sherlock rose the gun to your fathers torso. You hold back a cry, shaking like mad.
“Goodbye, brother mine.” Your father said. “No, flowers. My request.”
The lights turned red for a moment as Eurus started to talk again. “Jim Moriarty knew, you would choose him. He was so excited.” Again the lights turned red and instead of Eurus you faced the one and only Moriarty.
“Here we are. At the end of the line. Holmes killing Holmes.” You couldn’t hold back your sobs anymore.
“This is where I get off.” Moriarty showed a smile like he would enjoy it even when he was no longer alive.
“5 minutes.” Sherlock gritted through his teeth. “5 minutes. You did all of this to us.” He looked at John and then his gaze landed on you, still crying while you kneeled on the ground shaking.
But Sherlock lowered his gun. Everyone looked at him confused. Mycroft, John, you. Even Eurus was not getting what her brother was doing as he pointed the gun at himself.
“10, 9” he started to count down and Eurus shook her head.
“No, No. Sherlock, No.”
“You don’t know about Redbeard, yet.”
“4, 3” Suddenly you felt a stinging pain at the back of your head. And as you grabbed whatever hit you, you felt dizzy all of a sudden.
With a thud you landed on the floor like the rest of your family.
You woke up in a dark room. It was nighttime by now. The ground was dirty and the cold hair clung on your body. Getting up from the ground you realized you were all alone.
“Father? Sherlock? John?” you shouted into the night, but you didn’t receive a reply.
The fear grew in your body, as you shook uncontrollably. Where is everyone? Are they alright? Are they even still alive?
All those questions surrounded your head as tears flowed out of your eyes. You cursed yourself for demanding to go with them.
“My poor little niece.” The voice of Eurus sounded in the room. You craned your neck to look around, trying to find the source of the voice.
“Eurus.” You whispered silently into the night. But you didn’t get a response from her.
“Eurus, please stop this.” You whimpered, rocking yourself. “This is our family.” You cried out holding your knees close to your chest.
“You mean the family that left me on this island?!” Eurus didn’t sound angry. She sounded broken.
“Eurus, listen. I know you feel left alone, but you are not. We all came here just for you.” You explained into the darkness. For a few seconds everything was silent.
“Don’t be ridiculous.” In her voice you could make out that you hit a mark and so you continued.
“You are still family to us. The only thing you need is someone who listens. I know it because we are alike. Most of the time I am by myself, too.” Now standing on your shaking feet you walked around the room. It looked burned down, but you could make out some papers with child drawings on them.
“Liar.” Eurus whispered and you shook your head hoping she could see your actions.
“Just tell me if the others are alright.” No response. “Eurus?” you asked into the night but nothing came.
Maybe you should find out where you actually were right now. From the broken window you could make out nothing but fields and trees. An abandoned house in the middle of nowhere. Wonderful.
The silence was breaking as you could make out faint footsteps. Listening closely, you could make out that they were too heavy to be John and too light to be the ones of your father: Sherlock.
“Sherlock!” you shouted hoping he heard you. Moments later the locked door was laying on the ground and your uncle stood there out of breath. “(Y/N)!” he said and walked up to you.
“Where is father?” you asked him worriedly. Sherlock shook his head.
“I am not sure. But I am close to solving it. Just…Just try to contact Lestrade. Go downstairs and walk out of this house. Away from it, as far as you can. Alright?” you nod at him.
“Please, save my father.” You whispered to him as you walked down the stairs and out of the half burned down house.
And as your Uncle had asked you to, you called Lestrade. It took them awhile to find you but while you waited John and Sherlock walked up to you. Completely wet but unharmed.
Paramedics attend to all of you, but still there was this nagging feeling. Where was your Father?
Looking around making the young paramedic nearly go crazy, you tried to find him. “Where is my Father?” you asked Lestrade as he walked by to check on you.
“I uhm…I think he is brought to the hospital.” They answered. You stood up not caring that the young paramedic shouted for you to come back.
You run up to another transporter as they wanted to close the doors. “Hold up.” You shouted at them. They looked up at you surprised.
“I am Mycroft Holmes’ daughter.” You said to them and they held the door open for you. Walking in, you saw your father lying there with a oxygen mask around his face.
“Thank God, you are alive.” You breathed out relieved, as you took his hand in your own. The dark eyes of his bored into yours.
“Well, I think I deserve a cake after all of this.” He muttered under the mask, making you shake your head.
“You are the one who’s wounded the most and all you can think of is cake?” you asked in disbelief but still with a smile on your face.
A little smile adorned his lips as well. “Only so that I can see you smile again.” You hold his hand tightly as the paramedic took off to bring your father into the next hospital.
Time went by fast and your father was released from the hospital, a week after the incident.
Eurus invited all of you, including your grandparents, to come visit her. You weren’t sure of it but your grandparents demanded to see their daughter after believing she was dead.
So, now you were sitting with your grandparents while Sherlock and Eurus played a wonderful violin duet. Both smiled at each other and you realized at how odd and special your family truly was.
The British government as your father, a high functional sociopath as your uncle, a completely insane aunt and your loveable grandparents.
This is a special family reunion for a very special family.
Welcome to the Holmes Family.
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Mycroft Calming You (His Child) Down After A Panic Attack Would Involve...
OBVIOUS TRIGGER WARNING: PANIC ATTACK [if you are not comfortable with this, do not read it xx]
Mycroft calming you (his child) down after a panic attack would involve:
Although Mycroft is not exactly the most physically affectionate person, when it comes to you, he is willing to throw all convention away.
If you are in trouble, or having a panic attack, he will quickly try to get you away from the source of the panic attack and make sure that you’re in a quiet, stable environment.
Next, he’ll get you to concentrate on your breathing.
Strategically, this is important- but also it hurts him to see you in so much pain, so he tries to get your breathing back to normal so that you can calm down.
Mycroft will have you focus on something.
To go to your ‘mind palace.’
As dumb as this has seemed in the past to him -because of his brother’s way of using it- the Mind Palace does seem to work.
Mycroft tells you about memories of you when you were younger, how mischievous and cunning you were- how you were already smarter than him and Sherlock combined by the age of 10.
You’d smile and soon realise that you were safe. And breathing normally again.
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Mary: *enters; grinning* Hey, there you are. I wanted to wish you congratulations. I just heard the news. You must be so happy.
Molly: *looks up; confused* Wha- how did you find out?
Mary: Mike told me earlier *bites her lip* Sorry, was it a secret?
Molly: *sighs* I suppose not. I'm only nine weeks gone so I'm not really telling people yet. I don't mind you knowing, though.
Mary: Molly...I meant your promotion.
Molly: *eyes widen* Oh my God-
Mary: *grinning* Who's the father?
Mary: *excited* Is it that new surgeon you fancy? Oh God, it's not Tom, is it? Oooh, is it Sherlock? Please tell me it's Sherlock.
Sherlock: *enters; on his phone* What's me?
Molly: *squeaks* Nothing.
Mary: Just trying to work out who Molly's baby-daddy is.
Sherlock: *texting* Oh. Well, unless Molly has slept with anyone other than me since-
Molly: *blushing madly* I'm right here, you know. And no, of course I haven't.
Sherlock: *nods; happily* In that case, I'm going to be a Dad.
John: *standing in the doorway, holding coffees; confused* Jeeze, how long was I gone?
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Sherlock headcanon #827.
Sherlock and Y/N daughter's name is Casey.
Sherlock: Casey was actually Y/N's idea.
Greg: Isn't that a boy's name?
Molly: No, is also a girl's one.
John(laughing): Like Sherlock?
Y/N: You don't get it, aren't you?
All: Get what?
Y/N: The meaning of the name, obviously.
Sherlock (speaking quickly): Casey is a given name derived either from the Irish Gaelic cathasaigh, which means vigilant or watchful. Also, it can be used as a derivative nickname for the name Cassandra, name I found quite-
Y/N (interrupting): Sherlock! Darling, that is not what I meant.
Y/N: C'mon, think.
Sherlock (realizes): Oh! Casey!! C-a-s-e-y!! Your intelligence never ceases to amaze me.
John: I still don't get it.
Sherlock: Casey. Case. She named our daughter after the second thing I love the most.
Greg: And the first one?
Sherlock (smiling): Isn't obvious?
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