An adaptation of Sherlock Holmes set in a world in which the fictional character/literary juggernaut Sherlock Holmes, and all the subsequent adaptations thereof, still exist.
Sherlock Holmes (pronounced Holl-mess, as he is constantly reminding people) just had the misfortune of having parents who really liked the books, and his attitude towards his fictional counterpart is pretty much the same as that of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle.
Sherlock runs a Youtube Theory channel called Mysteries Unwrapped with Sherlock Holmes. He has received no less than seven cease and desist letters from the Conan Doyle estate, all of which he has so faded managed to rebuff by pointing out that that's literally his name.
(No he won't change his name. He's Sherlock Holmes the real live human person. Let Sherlock Holmes the non existent fictional character change his name.)
John is Sherlock's flatmate. Sherlock almost refused to live with him once he realised that it would mean staying with a medical student named John, and only gave in once John pointed out that: a) he's a biomedical student, which is completely different from an md, and b) his surname isn't Watson.
It's now been three years, which is long enough for them to have developed a genuine friendship, and for John to have a) started working towards his PhD in biotechnology, and b) for him to start dating somebody with the surname Watson.
Sherlock can feel the narrative closing in.
His Youtube channel is meant to be focused on lost media, fan theories and stuff like that, but he keeps accidentally stumbling upon and then solving genuine crimes.
His brother Mycroft may or may not have chosen that name after he transitions specifically to annoy him.
He doesn't even live in London, but somehow the only flat they could afford was on a street named fucking Baker Street.
Sherlock Holmes and the Unescapable Power of the Narrative.
i'm a writer irl (can't say who because my agent would rightfully put me into a blender and press the button if i go and out myself as "balrogballs") and honestly the funniest and most humiliating incident of my life was the time my finished manuscript triggered a plagiarism flag with the publisher for two lines of prose in my literary fiction novel...
.... which was word for word similar to a paragraph in a certain explicit work on FFN starring elrond and his batsman from the hobbit films, aka that one elf that looked like he ate panic attacks for breakfast (i forget his name but it's Figwit II) where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment.
and if you think i had to sit in front of one if the biggest publishing companies in the world and admit that it was, in fact, me who wrote the fic where the lord of imladris bends said twink over his writing desk and gives him the battering ram treatment in order to avoid being wrongly flagged for plagiarism, you would be absolutely correct.
Do You Love Me? Yes or Yes? || Zuko x water bender!Reader
Warning: it felt too short so I made this more dramatic then it had to be lol, fem presenting reader, dramatic Zuko/nonchalant reader
Messing with Zuko accidentally sent him spiraling thinking you’re going to leave him.
It was the hottest day the Fire Nation had experienced in over two hundred years. Everyone had shed their usual long layers for something airy, breathable, and light. Most were used to the heat, but for anyone not from the Fire Nation, it felt like hell on earth.
You had just come from a meeting planning your wedding. Now you lay sprawled across your bed, barely clothed, waiting for this miserable day to end.
A knock sounded at the door before it slid open, then shut again.
“How are you feeling? Do I need to ask the servants to bring you more water? Should we visit the beach so you can cool off?”
You chuckled, propping yourself up on your elbows.
“I’m fine, my love… although it would be nice if you’d lay with me,” you said with a soft smile, tilting your head.
He chuckled, making his way toward the bed. Then, very deliberately, he dropped his full weight across you, crushing you into the mattress.
“Ow—Zuko!” you giggled, playfully pushing and slapping at his arm.
“Oh, wow. I never realized how bumpy this bed is,” he said, continuing to squirm around and make things worse.
Your giggle become louder “Zuko, stop it—you’re heavy!” He gave one last squirm before going completely still.
After a moment, he rolled off and settled beside you. The room fell into a comfortable silence as his hand searched for yours, fingers lacing together.
While you lay there, your eyes tracing the golden engraved symbols on the ceiling, your mind drifted back to your wedding.
Your mother was visiting, determined to give her daughter the grandest wedding this nation had ever seen. She had been extremely skeptical at first, marrying her only daughter off to the Fire Nation, given its history…but your father had reassured her. He’d insisted you would be fine. That you could handle your own and he was right.
Besides, if you didn’t like Zuko, you would’ve found a way out of this betrothal just like you had with the last four. You were good at scaring men off, although… it would be a little more difficult with Zuko. He matched your crazy a little too well.
Which got you thinking.
“Hey, Zuko?”
“Hm?”
“What would you do if we broke up?”
It was as if he stopped breathing. His body went stiff beside you, and after what felt like forever, his head slowly turned to face you.
“…Why would we do that?”
You turned toward him and shrugged. “I dunno. Just curious.”
Zuko sat up, concern written all over his face. You followed.
“Have I done something to offend you or make you uncomfortable? I know I have a temper, but I’m working on it. And if I haven’t been spending enough time with you, that can be arranged—”
You laughed, shaking your head.
“Is it the citizens? I know they aren’t too happy I’m marrying someone from the water tribe, but I can have that dealt with—”
Your eyes widened as you shook your head again. “No, no, Zuko. I’m just curious. It’s hypothetical.”
He went quiet for a moment.
“Well… if we were to ever call off our engagement, I would… I would be saddened by that,” he admitted. “I’ve grown to enjoy your company. You’re a very intelligent woman. I appreciate your love for literature. I like our late-night walks. I admire the effort you’ve taken to learn our history and traditions.”
He paused briefly.
“I especially like when we sneak into the kitchen after hours to steal sweets.” A faint smile tugged at his lips.
“You are a kind soul. I believe you are a good woman… and would make an even greater wife… and mother, if— if that’s what you choose.” He looked away, his voice lowering at the end, a faint pink tinting his cheeks.
You raised an eyebrow. “Do you just see me as someone who can carry your heir?”
He panicked immediately.
“No no, I didn’t mean it like that! I just meant— you have a maternal side—you’re good with children— I mean, not that you have to— I-”
“Zuko,” you said, laughing as you fell back onto the mattress, “calm yourself. I’m just messing with you. I’m not going anywhere.”
He slowly laid back beside you, though the skeptical look on his face lingered.
•••
The rest of the week… Zuko had been off. Not distant— no, the complete opposite. He constantly hovered.
“Do you need anything?”
“Are you too warm?”
“Should I have the servants bring you something?”
“Do you want to rest? I can cancel my meetings.”
At first, you thought it was sweet. He was being very attentive, catering to your every need but by the fifth day, it was too much. You couldn’t even pee without him being right outside the door, even the servants were starting to notice.
Zuko’s not known for being openly affectionate let alone clingy.
“Zuko,” you sighed, barely glancing up from your book, “I’m fine.”
He lingered anyway, sitting across from you.
“Are you sure?”
“Yes,” you said simply.
Every time you denied his help, something in his expression dimmed just a little more.
By the end of the week, the silence between you had grown awkward and heavy.
Dinner that night was quiet. The long table stretched between you, dishes laid out beautifully. Steamed rice, glazed fish, roasted vegetables but neither of you seemed interested. The only sounds were the soft clink of utensils against porcelain and the faint crackle of lanterns lining the walls.
Zuko hadn’t said more than a few words since sitting down.
And you… you hadn’t tried to fill the silence. You picked at your food, eyes occasionally drifting up to him. His posture was stiff, movements controlled, like he was holding something back.
He hadn’t been like this before, not with you so why now?
You sighed quietly, setting your chopsticks down. “You’re doing it again.”
His hand stilled “…Doing what?”
“This,” you gestured vaguely between the two of you. “The hovering. The silence. The weird energy, what’s the matter?”
He didn’t respond right away.
You leaned back slightly in your chair. “Zuko—”
“Why would you even ask that?” he finally snapped. The words cut through the room, sharp and sudden.
You blinked, caught off guard, looking up at him confused. “Ask what?”
He let out a short breath, pushing his plate away as he stood. The legs of his chair scraped softly against the floor. “That question,” he said, beginning to pace. “About us breaking off the engagement.”
Oh.
You frowned, turning in your seat to follow him. “Zuko, it was a joke—”
“Well It wasn’t funny.” The room went still, even the lantern flames seemed to quiet. You watched him for a moment, your expression tightening just slightly.
“You’re still on that?”
“I don’t understand why you would say something like that if you weren’t thinking about it,” he continued, voice tightening with each word. “Unless you are thinking about it.”
You let out a small, disbelieving laugh, shaking your head. “You’re overthinking. I told you it was just hypothetical. Its not that deep.”
He stopped pacing just slowly, he turned to look at you. “Right,” he muttered, looking away. “Of course it’s not.”
You opened your mouth, but nothing came out. He didn’t give you the chance anyway with a quick turn, he headed for the door. The sound of it sliding open echoed louder than it should have.
Your gaze dropped to the untouched food in front of you, the warmth from it already fading. You exhaled slowly, leaning back in your chair, arms crossing.
“He’s being dramatic,” you muttered under your breath, but deep down you felt horrible.
•••
Later on that night you found him in the training room.
Of course you did.
The air was thick with heat instantly covering your skin in a thin layer of sweat The sharp scent of smoke lingering as he moved through forms quick, controlled, but just a little too aggressive.
You leaned against the doorway, watching for a second thinking of what to say.
“…You know,” you started, “if you keep training like that, you might actually melt the floor. Then we’ll have a whole new problem.”
He didn’t even pause. Okay… humor won’t work. You pushed off the doorway and stepped fully inside, slower this time.
“Zuko.” Nothing. He ignored you as if you weren’t there. Which kind of stung but you couldn’t blame him.
You exhaled softly, “listen i’m sorry.”
His movements came to an immediate halt. His shoulders rose and fell once before he turned to face you.
“I shouldn’t have brushed you off like that,” you continued, more serious now. “I didn’t realize it actually bothered you.”
He looked at you for a moment, all that tension still sitting in his expression.
“I just…” he started, then stopped, running a hand through his hair. “I thought—”
“I know,” you said gently. “You thought I was trying to leave and I’m sorry.”
He let out a quiet breath, gaze dropping. “I overthink,” he admitted. “I know I do. I just—when you said that, I couldn’t get it out of my head.”
You stepped closer. “I’m not going anywhere,” you said simply.
That made his eyes lift back to yours. “I like you too much,” you added, a small smile tugging at your lips.
Something in his expression softened immediately.
“…Yeah?” he asked, quieter now.
“Yeah.”
There was a beat of silence. Then he huffed a small breath, almost embarrassed.
“I may have been… a little much.”
You raised an eyebrow. “A little?”
He gave you a look paired with an eye roll. “…Okay, very.”
You laughed softly, closing the distance between you.
“And I shouldn’t have called you dramatic,” you admitted. “Well— out loud.”
That earned you the smallest hint of a smile. “Come here,” he murmured.
You didn’t hesitate, you walked closer closing the space between you.
His hand found your waist, pulling you in as your fingers curled against his sweaty chest. The tension from the past week melted quickly, replaced by something softer, something warmer.
Your lips met his, slow at first, then deeper as he pulled you closer.
“See?” you murmured against his lips. “Still want you, and very much might I add.”
He let out a quiet breath, pressing his forehead to yours before kissing you again, this time with more certainty. You smiled into it.
The concept of Shane being in voyageurs superhell post outing and meanwhile in every press interview the other centaurs will NOT refer to Ilya as anything other than Shane Hollander’s Boyfriend.
“Yeah, Shane Hollander’s boyfriend scored that nasty goal in the third, tying up the game, really brought the energy back in—”
“There’s a lot of good chemistry on the ice — playing on the first line with Hollander’s boyfriend and Barrett is some of the best hockey I’ve ever played.”
“Yeah, the team is really pulling together for playoffs. When you’ve got an all-star like Shane Hollander’s fiancé as captain, he really makes you believe in yourselves. What? Oh, yeah, apparently he’s been holding that out on us since January. They still call each other boyfriends, though — I think cap has a grudge against the French language.”
The league keeps telling them to stop and Harris KNOWS that but also their engagement numbers have never been so high and it’s definitely not just because they’re going to playoffs…
SYNOPSIS — the strange unknown number you vented to about your crush ends up being your crush.
INCLUDES — college + modern au!, smau, crack, fluff, shinso is y/n's campus crush.
PART 02 ⸻ ROLES REVERSED VERSION
ᡣ𐭩 •｡ main masterlist — mha masterlist ꪆৎ ˚⋅
NOTE — if you guys didn't get it, the 'diary entry' shinso wrote wasn't entirely made up bc he acc was staring at y/n LOL! i love his smartass.
Tim: Hey Dami?
Damian: Ya?
Tim: When you first came to the Manor, why did you speak like that?
Damian: Hello, why are we being racist?
Tim: NO I'M NOT TALKING ABOUT YOUR ACCENT-
Damian: uh huh and what are you talking about?
Tim: The fact that you speak straight out of an SAT vocab quizlet
Jason walks in and immediately turns around. Both Tim and Damian spot him
Damian: Todd, care to join the discussion?
Jason: I'm good thank you I just gotta analyze the DNA of the um coffee, k bye-
Damian: JASON GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE
Damian: IT'S BECAUSE OF HIM
Damian: YOU FEAR MONGERED ME ABOUT THE SAT FROM THE RIPE AGE OF 7
Damian: I HATE YOU
Damian: I HATE YOU SO MUCH
Jason: As your designated English tutor, I felt as if it was necessary for your future success
Damian: YOU READ MARY SHELLEY SO MANY TIMES I ACTUALLY HAVE IT STUCK IN MY BRAIN
Jason: WELL THERE WEREN'T ANY NURSERY RHYMES IN THE LEAGUE AND well mumbling Frankenstein was really personal to me
Tim: on the floor laughing WAIT SO JASON BASICALLY CONDITIONED YOU TO HAVE A CLASSIC LIT PARLANCE
Jason: indignant LIES AND SLANDER. IT'S NOT MY FAULT HE DIDN'T PICK UP ON CASUAL ENGLISH IT'S NOT LIKE I SPOKE FORMALLY 24/7
Damian: YOU BARELY SPOKE AT ALL YOU HAD A SELECTIVE MUTISM
Jason: HEY, I BETTER SEE YOU GET AN 800 ON THE READING & WRITING SECTION ON THE SAT THOUGH
Tim: SO IT'S FOR THE BEST?
Damian: YOU JUST REFUSED TO TELL ME IT WASN'T NORMAL I THOUGHT EVERYONE IN NEW JERSEY SPOKE LIKE THAT
Tim: genuinely choking on his laughter NEW JERS- NEW JERSEY??????? LIKE THAT????????? PFFFFFFF
Tim: I was so confused when you first showed up, I thought you were possessed by an Oxford Lit professor or something. That or you really wanted to get that 1600 on the SAT
Damian: You literally aren't even that far off
Damian: First Jason basically is an Oxford Lit professor, just with guns and insecurity
Damian: And second, he told me that College Board created the SAT to rank people based on intelligence and that the dumb ones get outcasted from society and of course my brain was like ah I need to ace this test to prove my worth
Damian: HE TOLD ME TO SPEAK LIKE THAT TO 'PRACTICE MY VOCAB'
Damian: I LITERALLY USED A QUIZLET TO MEMORIZE THIS
Tim: JASON YOU WERE LITERALLY PROJECTING
Jason: WELL IT'S NOT LIKE I COULD TAKE THE SAT SO INSTEAD I WAS LIKE I CAN DO IT VICARIOUSLY THROUGH DAMI
Jason: You should be grateful I didn't make you use archaic language like 'thee', 'dost' and 'hath'
Damian: WELL ARE YOU HAPPY NOW?
Jason: No, I'm euphoric
