Different (BBC Sherlock x yn)
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- Parts 17
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Last published Thu, Mar 16, 2023
A girl out of her time, travelling into the timeline of a different dimension.
From where yn was from, manipulation of the mind is no longer a fairy tale.
Yn Yln was the leader of the team who developed this technology, the team consisting of herself and only herself. She despised mankind, hence why she chose to work with AI and not other people. Her work was originally not designed for mass production, but her first and unfinished blueprint was leaked, forcing her into finishing the work in hiding.
As her work approached perfection, her location was found. Many rushed to kill the girl and take the tech. Without a doubt, she blew up the entire place, taking down both her life's work and those who came with malicious intent. But also herself.
To her surprise, she woke up in a place she can barely recognise. The little man who helped her up called it "London, Baker Street".
When a high functioning sociopath meets a different kind of sociopath.
When the technology of two world clashes.
When two hearts believed to be frozen sparks each other up.
When the newest case threatened the foundation of space and time.
How could a case that disrupts their very existence be solved?
Is it really possible to achieve affection against time?
Decided to do a book on Sherlock x yn. Had been considering for a while now, but here we go.
I'm not Sherlock so the deductions I've came up with most likely aren't as good
Mild language warning.
Only events and characters I create are mine, any borrowed events or unoriginal characters aren't mine, as much as I wish they were.
If there are triggers in any chapters, I'll put a warning at the top followed by a load of blank lines.
If you do decide to read my story, thank you for you're support.
If you don't like it, good luck finding something more suited for your taste. <3
All Rights Reserved
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221B Baker Street was not supposed to be my final destination. It was a pit stop. A temporary, financially questionable decision in one of the most expensive cities in the world. A place to exist quietly. To keep my head down, drink overpriced coffee, and avoid unpacking my emotional baggage. Then I met Sherlock Holmes. And quiet ceased to exist. One minute, I was just a tenant in a slightly dysfunctional flat. The next, I was the unwilling documentarian of absolute madness- ✔ Sherlock, the world's only consulting detective, who refuses to function like a normal human being. ✔ John Watson, who has reached new heights of exhaustion thanks to said detective. ✔ Mrs. Hudson, who is not a housekeeper but absolutely runs this place like a benevolent overlord. ✔ Molly Hooper, the forensic pathologist who is finally terrifying Sherlock (to my endless delight). ✔ Mycroft Holmes, who controls the British government but, more importantly, cannot figure out why I exist. ✔ Lestrade, who shows up mostly to suffer. ✔ And Rosie Watson, who is officially my tiny, all-knowing best friend. I am not a detective. I am not a hero. I am just the one thing Sherlock Holmes cannot deduce. My name is Safa. I babysit Rosie for extra cash, I document Baker Street's chaos out of sheer pettiness, and I gloat about my food just to drive Sherlock insane. I tell myself I don't belong here. That I am still just passing through. But the thing about living at Baker Street? You don't realize you're home until it's time to leave. And for once, Sherlock Holmes never saw it coming.
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