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mostlysignssomeportents · 4 months

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It all started with a mouse

For the public domain, time stopped in 1998, when the Sonny Bono Copyright Act froze copyright expirations for 20 years. In 2019, time started again, with a massive crop of works from 1923 returning to the public domain, free for all to use and adapt:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/publicdomainday/2019/

No one is better at conveying the power of the public domain than Jennifer Jenkins and James Boyle, who run the Duke Center for the Study of the Public Domain. For years leading up to 2019, the pair published an annual roundup of what we would have gotten from the public domain in a universe where the 1998 Act never passed. Since 2019, they've switched to celebrating what we're actually getting each year. Last year's was a banger:

https://pluralistic.net/2022/12/20/free-for-2023/#oy-canada

But while there's been moderate excitement at the publicdomainification of "Yes, We Have No Bananas," AA Milne's "Now We Are Six," and Sherlock Holmes, the main event that everyone's anticipated arrives on January 1, 2024, when Mickey Mouse enters the public domain.

The first appearance of Mickey Mouse was in 1928's Steamboat Willie. Disney was critical to the lobbying efforts that extended copyright in 1976 and again in 1998, so much so that the 1998 Act is sometimes called the Mickey Mouse Protection Act. Disney and its allies were so effective at securing these regulatory gifts that many people doubted that this day would ever come. Surely Disney would secure another retrospective copyright term extension before Jan 1, 2024. I had long arguments with comrades about this – people like Project Gutenberg founder Michael S Hart (RIP) were fatalistically certain the public domain would never come back.

But they were wrong. The public outrage over copyright term extensions came too late to stave off the slow-motion arson of the 1976 and 1998 Acts, but it was sufficient to keep a third extension away from the USA. Canada wasn't so lucky: Justin Trudeau let Trump bully him into taking 20 years' worth of works out of Canada's public domain in the revised NAFTA agreement, making swathes of works by living Canadian authors illegal at the stroke of a pen, in a gift to the distant descendants of long-dead foreign authors.

Now, with Mickey's liberation bare days away, there's a mounting sense of excitement and unease. Will Mickey actually be free? The answer is a resounding YES! (albeit with a few caveats). In a prelude to this year's public domain roundup, Jennifer Jenkins has published a full and delightful guide to The Mouse and IP from Jan 1 on:

https://web.law.duke.edu/cspd/mickey/

Disney loves the public domain. Its best-loved works, from The Sorcerer's Apprentice to Sleeping Beauty, Pinnocchio to The Little Mermaid, are gorgeous, thoughtful, and lively reworkings of material from the public domain. Disney loves the public domain – we just wish it would share.

Disney loves copyright's other flexibilities, too, like fair use. Walt told the papers that he took his inspiration for Steamboat Willie from Charlie Chaplin and Douglas Fairbanks, making fair use of their performances to imbue Mickey with his mischief and derring do. Disney loves fair use – we just wish it would share.

Disney loves copyright's limitations. Steamboat Willie was inspired by Buster Keaton's silent film Steamboat Bill (titles aren't copyrightable). Disney loves copyright's limitations – we just wish it would share.

As Jenkins writes, Disney's relationship to copyright is wildly contradictory. It's the poster child for the public domain's power as a source of inspiration for worthy (and profitable) new works. It's also the chief villain in the impoverishment and near-extinction of the public domain. Truly, every pirate wants to be an admiral.

Disney's reliance on – and sabotage of – the public domain is ironic. Jenkins compares it to "an oil company relying on solar power to run its rigs." Come January 1, Disney will have to share.

Now, if you've heard anything about this, you've probably been told that Mickey isn't really entering the public domain. Between trademark claims and later copyrightable elements of Mickey's design, Mickey's status will be too complex to understand. That's totally wrong.

Jenkins illustrates the relationship between these three elements in (what else) a Mickey-shaped Venn diagram. Topline: you can use all the elements of Mickey that are present in Steamboat Willie, along with some elements that were added later, provided that you make it clear that your work isn't affiliated with Disney.

Let's unpack that. The copyrightable status of a character used to be vague and complex, but several high-profile cases have brought clarity to the question. The big one is Les Klinger's case against the Arthur Conan Doyle estate over Sherlock Holmes. That case established that when a character appears in both public domain and copyrighted works, the character is in the public domain, and you are "free to copy story elements from the public domain works":

https://freesherlock.files.wordpress.com/2013/12/klinger-order-on-motion-for-summary-judgment-c.pdf

This case was appealed all the way to the Supreme Court, who declined to hear it. It's settled law.

So, which parts of Mickey aren't going into the public domain? Elements that came later: white gloves, color. But that doesn't mean you can't add different gloves, or different colorways. The idea of a eyes with pupils is not copyrightable – only the specific eyes that Disney added.

Other later elements that don't qualify for copyright: a squeaky mouse voice, being adorable, doing jaunty dances, etc. These are all generic characteristics of cartoon mice, and they're free for you to use. Jenkins is more cautious on whether you can give your Mickey red shorts. She judges that "a single, bright, primary color for an article of clothing does not meet the copyrightability threshold" but without settled law, you might wanna change the colors.

But what about trademark? For years, Disney has included a clip from Steamboat Willie at the start of each of its films. Many observers characterized this as a bid to create a de facto perpetual copyright, by making Steamboat Willie inescapably associated with products from Disney, weaving an impassable web of trademark tripwires around it.

But trademark doesn't prevent you from using Steamboat Willie. It only prevents you from misleading consumers "into thinking your work is produced or sponsored by Disney." Trademarks don't expire so long as they're in use, but uses that don't create confusion are fair game under trademark.

Copyrights and trademarks can overlap. Mickey Mouse is a copyrighted character, but he's also an indicator that a product or service is associated with Disney. While Mickey's copyright expires in a couple weeks, his trademark doesn't. What happens to an out-of-copyright work that is still a trademark?

Luckily for us, this is also a thoroughly settled case. As in, this question was resolved in a unanimous 2000 Supreme Court ruling, Dastar v. Twentieth Century Fox. A live trademark does not extend an expired copyright. As the Supremes said:

[This would] create a species of mutant copyright law that limits the public’s federal right to copy and to use expired copyrights.

This elaborates on the Ninth Circuit's 1996 Maljack Prods v Goodtimes Home Video Corp:

[Trademark][ cannot be used to circumvent copyright law. If material covered by copyright law has passed into the public domain, it cannot then be protected by the Lanham Act without rendering the Copyright Act a nullity.

Despite what you might have heard, there is no ambiguity here. Copyrights can't be extended through trademark. Period. Unanimous Supreme Court Decision. Boom. End of story. Done.

But even so, there are trademark considerations in how you use Steamboat Willie after Jan 1, but these considerations are about protecting the public, not Disney shareholders. Your uses can't be misleading. People who buy or view your Steamboat Willie media or products have to be totally clear that your work comes from you, not Disney.

Avoiding confusion will be very hard for some uses, like plush toys, or short idents at the beginning of feature films. For most uses, though, a prominent disclaimer will suffice. The copyright page for my 2003 debut novel Down and Out in the Magic Kingdom contains this disclaimer:

This novel is a work of fiction, set in an imagined future. All the characters and events portrayed in this book, including the imagined future of the Magic Kingdom, are either fictitious or are used fictitiously. The Walt Disney Company has not authorized or endorsed this novel.

https://us.macmillan.com/books/9781250196385/downandoutinthemagickingdom

Here's the Ninth Circuit again:

When a public domain work is copied, along with its title, there is little likelihood of confusion when even the most minimal steps are taken to distinguish the publisher of the original from that of the copy. The public is receiving just what it believes it is receiving—the work with which the title has become associated. The public is not only unharmed, it is unconfused.

Trademark has many exceptions. The First Amendment protects your right to use trademarks in expressive ways, for example, to recreate famous paintings with Barbie dolls:

https://www.copyright.gov/fair-use/summaries/mattel-walkingmountain-9thcir2003.pdf

And then there's "nominative use": it's not a trademark violation to use a trademark to accurately describe a trademarked thing. "We fix iPhones" is not a trademark violation. Neither is 'Works with HP printers.' This goes double for "expressive" uses of trademarks in new works of art:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Rogers_v._Grimaldi

What about "dilution"? Trademark protects a small number of superbrands from uses that "impair the distinctiveness or harm the reputation of the famous mark, even when there is no consumer confusion." Jenkins says that the Mickey silhouette and the current Mickey character designs might be entitled to protection from dilution, but Steamboat Willie doesn't make the cut.

Jenkins closes with a celebration of the public domain's ability to inspire new works, like Disney's Three Musketeers, Disney's Christmas Carol, Disney's Beauty and the Beast, Disney's Around the World in 80 Days, Disney's Alice in Wonderland, Disney's Snow White, Disney's Hunchback of Notre Dame, Disney's Sleeping Beauty, Disney's Cinderella, Disney's Little Mermaid, Disney's Pinocchio, Disney's Huck Finn, Disney's Robin Hood, and Disney's Aladdin. These are some of the best-loved films of the past century, and made Disney a leading example of what talented, creative people can do with the public domain.

As of January 1, Disney will start to be an example of what talented, creative people give back to the public domain, joining Dickens, Dumas, Carroll, Verne, de Villeneuve, the Brothers Grimm, Twain, Hugo, Perrault and Collodi.

Public domain day is 17 days away. Creators of all kinds: start your engines!

If you'd like an essay-formatted version of this post to read or share, here's a link to it on pluralistic.net, my surveillance-free, ad-free, tracker-free blog:

https://pluralistic.net/2023/12/15/mouse-liberation-front/#free-mickey

Image: Doo Lee (modified) https://web.law.duke.edu/sites/default/files/images/centers/cspd/pdd2024/mickey/Steamboat-WIllie-Enters-Public-Domain.jpeg

CC BY 4.0 https://creativecommons.org/licenses/by/4.0/deed.en

#pluralistic #copyfight #scotus #mickey mouse #public domain #ip #contract #trademark #tm #jennifer jenkins #copyright #disney #nominative use

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temporaerthaervaerk · 1 month

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I just realised that all the media I adore has some level of autistic/neurodivergent coding and it's been that way since I was a child.

And like, oftentimes their different way of perceiving and being in the world is the driving force of the story/and or a crucial element in it.

There’s the canon example of the entire Camp Halfblood (ADHD), where the ADHD is literally what keeps the characters alive.

There's Dean Winchester (ADHD) whose hyperfixations are typically masculine (as well as geeky) and who never sits still, with the added bonus of Castiel (Autism), who Dean just... accepts, in a way I rarely see.

Then there’s the infamous Will Graham (Autism) whose hyperempathy is litterally the focal point of the entire narrative.

We have Haru from Free! (Autism), whose special interest (swimming) is the motivating factor for several other characters.

Reki and Langa from Sk8 the infinity (Autism), who share a special interest and grow a special bond because of it.

There's Sai from Hikaru No Go (Autism), who trancedented time and space to play Go (special interest) and whose special interest sets the story into motion.

We have any version of Sherlock Holmes (AuDHD), who's brilliance I attribute to a mixture of hyperfixations and special interest in crime solving. His conflicts with society and disregard of social norms are a central theme as well.

There's Anne with an E (Autism), who loves words and stories and speaks before she thinks (where all major problems arise due to her lack of understanding for social norms)

We have Pat and Pran from Bad Buddy (ADHD + Autism), like I dunno, I just really felt that vibe.

There's Beth Harmon from Queen's Gambit (Autism) with her special interest in Chess.

And like, the list goes on: Daryl Dixon, Jon Snow, Kotaro from Kotaro Lives Alone, Will Treaty from the Ranger's apprentice, Hal from the same author, Katniss Everdeen, Si-eun from Weak Hero Class 1, etc.

Don't get me wrong I've consumed plenty of stories without characters coded this way, but all the stories that truly resonated with me? Neurodivergent, all of them.

It's probably because the focus on social norms/hierarchy always seemed foreign to me. Eg. I like Skam but it's like a view into a completely foreign world where people function differently.

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theoutcastrogue · 10 months

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"The knife is a weapon of the Other"

"The emerging martial art of Bartitsu, appearing in middle-class magazines during the Boer War, was the encapsulation of British civilian gallantry. Yet Bartitsu would have slid into obscurity had it not been for its curious appearance in the Sherlock Holmes canon. The final showdown of the ‘duel’ between Holmes and Moriarty is a wrestling match between two Victorian masterminds. When Holmes returns to London he tells Watson that he and Moriarty went to battle at the Reichenbach Falls unarmed. Holmes managed to ‘slip through’ Moriarty’s grip as he possessed ‘some knowledge’ of ‘baritsu, or the Japanese system of wrestling’, adding that the art had on occasion been useful to him.

Founded in the 1890s by an Anglo-Scottish engineer, Edward William Barton-Wright (1860–1951), Bartitsu was a synthesis of British boxing, French la savate (kickboxing) and Japanese jujitsu. Barton-Wright tapped into the need for a bourgeois form of self-defence, something which he could promote as being British and yet was also exotic and refined.

The principal aim of Bartitsu’s promoters was ‘to provide a means whereby the higher classes of society may protect themselves from the attacks of hooligans and their like all over the world’. These urban gangs were a new form of folk devil, descendants of the mid-Victorian-era garotter. While they were armed with clubs, knuckles, iron bars and leather belts, it is doubtful that they carried firearms. Nevertheless, the press did represent the hooligan as a threatening presence.

Perhaps the scares promoted the growth of a burgeoning culture of ‘British’ self-defence which avoided the aggressive and increasingly unmanly action of using a firearm against a ruffianly lower-class opponent equipped only with basic weapons.

Barton-Wright follows a literary tradition when he presents his martial art as a British form of self-defence. Pierce Egan’s well-known self-defence manual was supplemented with a word on the ‘Englishness’ of physical heroism, arguing that ‘Englishmen need no other weapons in personal contests than those which nature has so amply supplied them with’. In 1910 the former lightweight boxing champion Andrew J. Newton said in his manual Boxing that ‘the native of Southern Europe flies to his knife’, whereas the ‘Britisher […] is handy with his fists in an emergency’. Elsewhere it was maintained that the ‘Italian, Greek, Portuguese, or South American’ ‘give preference to the knife’ while the Englishman extols boxing. For Barton-Wright, British boxers ‘scorn taking advantages of another man when he is down’, while a foreigner might ‘use a chair, or a beer bottle, or a knife’ or, ‘when a weapon is available’, he might employ ‘underhanded means’. The views of these articles reappear in a later self-defence manual of 1914, where it is argued that Britons ‘live in a country where knife and revolver are not much in evidence’. This statement about the low number of firearms and edged weapons can be read as an attempt to extol British virtues and is not necessarily representative of reality. The knife is a weapon of the Other. Barton-Wright’s view that English practitioners of Bartitsu are principled men is reflected in the Sherlock Holmes canon, where Holmes never uses a knife, although his enemies, whether foreign or British, do so at times."

— Emelyne Godfrey, Masculinity, Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature (Palgrave Macmillan, 2013) (very abridged)

#Masculinity Crime and Self-Defence in Victorian Literature #Emelyne Godfrey #theory #how to stab #sherlock holmes #arthur conan doyle #bartitsu #rogues in fiction #moral panics #dishonour on your cow

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loganbcrnes · 2 years

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you are the bane of my existence and the object of my desires

pairing: Captain Syverson x fem!reader

Summary: Feral Alpha Sy moves to a cabin owned by one of his old army buddy Logan. over time a relationship with his Omega neighbor blossoms. One morning hes thrown into a rut and you help him through it.

Tags: 18+, ABO, feral Alpha Syverson, Omega fem!reader, smut, dom/sub, knotting, orgasm, angry feral Sy, hard sex, pussy eating, oral, language, slightly connected to the MCU, mention of The Red Room, though a different interpretation of it, mention of Logan Howlett (Wolverine)

words: 3.9k

Authors note: hiii, finally written an abo sy oneshot. there isnt enough abo fics in the Henry Cavill universe, but there should be imo. this is pure filth just so yall r warned. A bit of backstory on my version of Captain Syverson. Hes originally born in Norway, but moved to Texas, USA when he was 2 years old when his father got a good job offer. hence why his name is Bjørn Syverson, though throughout this fic he just goes by Sy. It is mentioned that he has brothers which are August Walker, Walter Marshall, Sherlock Holmes and Clark Kent, all were separated from birth, but after the death of Sy's parents, he united with them. hopefully in future fics, i can delve more into their backstory. :)

Readers ethnicity and body type isn't mentioned as i want everyone to feel included, just that she is European.

For a few passing seconds, you’re frozen with fear. It was drilled into you at a young age that a feral alpha in rut were dangerous. That you should never let yourself be alone with one, in case the unthinkable happened. But this isn’t just some feral alpha, this is Sy, who takes care of you with a gentleness you never thought you would get, a gentleness you never thought anyone could posses, let alone a feral alpha.

Feral alphas weren’t rare, but they weren’t exactly common either. Feralness mostly only occurs in male Alphas that have experienced traumatic events in their life, mostly veterans. And unfortunately governments are unable to equip the right tools to help these men. Since WW2 they have become more and more common, but scientists are never able to find the right cure and treatments to help them.

They say the only thing that would reduce the symptoms are compatible omegas, preferably mated. betas can too, but not to the extent omegas can. Eventually they end up going rogue if they are apart of a pack, if not, well they distance themselves from society, they seek out to the wilderness where they can be in their true form.

Now with Sy, being a veteran and POW, made him more prone to go feral. When he was saved from an old unit he was apart of, he began his recovery in a hospital for vets and feral alphas.

Things weren’t easy in the beginning, losing a leg and not having his own independence put him on edge all the time, but once he got released, he didn’t hesitate to move to the mountains in Canada. An old army buddy and alpha mate to his brothers, Logan, owned a couple of cabins and lent one to him. His brothers were against it, continually reminding him that their pack could take care of him and his needs. They didn’t mind Sy being with their mates, but it wasn’t them he didn’t trust, it was himself.

Sy would hate himself for evermore if he hurt them, he didn’t want to risk it. When Sy moved to the small cabin, he noticed he had a neighbor not so far away. He avoided you as much as possible in the beginning, but over time he started chatting with you, walking past each other on morning runs with their dogs, and in the end they became friends.

He learned that you moved out here because you wanted to start over. You had a difficult childhood from losing your mother to cancer and moving to a foreign country not knowing anyone nor the language. And when you thought your life was getting a better hold of itself, everything came crumbling down when you were kidnapped and taken into human trafficking.

It took 4 years before you were free from The Red Room. A place where they would experiment on Omegas. You spent a year in a mental hospital for omegas to recover. You were alone with no friends and family. You were in a state of depression and hopelessness. You wanted to get away from everything, so you discovered an ad of cabins for sale in Canada and set foot.

That was now 2 years ago, and don’t regret your decision for a second. You both took solace in each other, having similar experiences made the connection between you even stronger. It was nice having someone that wouldn’t tiptoe around you or took pity in you.

It was hard getting close to Sy in the beginning. Some days he was more closed off than others, but you understood it, and remained patient. Over time friendly feelings turned into romantic and you knew that Sy would never hurt you and had to remind him that occasionally.

His brothers came for a visit one time to give him a talking, convincing him to let himself feel love for once.

—

“Sy?” You whisper, trying to shift in his arms once more. The scent of leather and wet forest reeked throughout the room, has slick already wetting your underwear, far more than you’re used to, and you know straight away hes gone into rut. You’ve never shared your heat with anyone before. The idea of being so vulnerable around another person always filled you with dread especially after what happened, but even with the looming rut of the Alpha that holds you in his strong arms, all you can feel is a sense of belonging.

“Alpha, wake up.”

Despite your soft tone, Sy wakes with a harsh gasp and digs his fingers into your soft flesh on instinct like he’s trying to drag you impossibly closer to him. A surprised moan falls from his lips as he grinds up against your ass. “Oh, god -”

“Shh, it’s okay, Alpha.” You coo, reaching back to carefully run your fingers through his shaved head. “It’s okay, I’m here.” “Fuck, ya’ smell so good…” Sy groans at your scent of sweet ripe peaches and you give a discontented cry at the idea of not getting to help your Alpha through his rut. “If I continue, I won’t be able to stop ‘mega.” He growls. “I don’t want you to stop,” You whine, carefully pressing back against him. There’s nothing more to Bjørn Syverson than his careful, shielded control over his instincts, and as much as you love that about him, you want nothing more than for him to let go and pound you mercifully into your bed. “Let me take care of you, Alpha. Please?” “I could claim you.” He grits out, his words and actions stark contrasts of each other as he keeps rolling his hips in sharp movements. “I-I can’t take that choice from you, sweet ‘mega.” “This is my choice, you’re my choice.” You’ve never heard yourself sound so sincere and desperate at the same time, but you can feel the tightening need curling low in your belly. His scent is singing through your veins, lighting up your inner Omega in a way you’ve never felt. “I’ve never wanted anyone before you, but this… this is right." You’re on your back before you can even blink, Sy’s strong hands pinning you beneath him. The expectation was for him to rush into a devastating kiss but he sat back slightly and simply… looked at you. He studies your face intently, looking at your beautiful reddened cheeks splattered with freckles and the odd spots from your unbalance hormones, an issue that has been bugging you for the past few weeks. He watches as your hips grind up in search of relief. When he finally leans down, you try to meet him halfway but he dodges your kiss to bury his face in your neck. A groan vibrates through his chest and into yours as he inhales deeply, and you happily curl your fingers in his hair to hold him there. “Oh, honey…” Sy kisses your pulse and nuzzles against you, his beard the perfect rough contrast to the soft press of his lips. “You goin’ into heat, ‘mega? Just needed you’re Alpha, didn’t ya?” “Yes, please!” You beg, your nails clawing his head, dragging him down to slot your lips with his in a sloppy kiss. Every touch, every hint of his scent, every breathy groan that came from his lips makes that warmth spread through your entire body. Sy kisses you eagerly, caging you underneath him. He feels impossibly bigger above you and your inner Omega blooms with comfort and love. So you let yourself revel in it, no longer fighting off the instincts that beckon for you. Sy almost yelps in surprise when your thighs hook around his waist to drag him down closer but he follows your lead happily and goes to grind his clothed cock against you - just like you were expecting. Mischief soars through your chest as you twist and grapple until he’s underneath you, your mind egging you to make him prove his strength. A flash of concern darts through those pretty blue eyes of his, as if he’s worried you’ve suddenly changed your mind, but the sight of your playful grin just makes him smile in return. He lets you grab at him for a moment, barely bothering to bat your hands away as you try - and fail - to pin his arms at his sides. Amusement rolls through him. Oh, his sweet, fierce Omega. If you want him to show you his true worth as your Alpha, he’s going to deliver. Sy grabs you by your waist and drags you beneath him once more, a low growl ripping through his lips as you erupt into excited laughter. Both of your wrists are secured in one of his hands where he pins them to the mattress above your head and you feel so… helpless. The man above you is the picture of Alpha - chest heaving with every breath, eyes wild with need yet perfectly in control, gray briefs tented with his impressive thick length. He exudes power and you can’t get enough. “Gonna be good for me, Omega?” Sy rumbles. “Yes! So good, I promise.” You’re on the verge of begging, but before the honeyed words can drip from your lips, Sy quickly and carefully strips your pajamas from your body before ripping his off as well. There’s no stopping the garbled groan you give at the sight he makes above you. With your newly freed hands, you let your fingers trail down his hairy chest and stomach, watching enraptured as goosebumps follow your touch. “Good girl,” He guides your hand to his thick engorged cock and rolls his hips to thrust into your fist, not bothering to hide the way he practically purrs. You can see the bright intensity that burns through his entire being in each clench of his jaw and ripple of his muscles. He’s holding back, though, tempering his movements like he’s afraid he’ll scare you. Feral alphas don’t have a good reputation, they have little control over themselves. They take what they want, leaving nothing behind. But you trust Sy, and you don’t trust easily, especially with alphas, but Sy is different. You watch him as he slowly climbs down your body, his lips never leaving your skin as he trails his hot kisses on you all the way down. He parts your legs further so he could get more comfortable between them, then when he presses a kiss at your nether lips, his fingers parting your folds so he could find your slick entrance and give a long, hungry lick right at where your desire is centered until you cry out. “Taste so fucking sweet ‘mega”. Sy growls as he licks your clit.

“So fucking hot, Darlin’.” Sy growls. “Been wanting to taste this sweet pussy since the day I met ya’. Kept holding myself back for so long, but not anymore ‘mega.” He said looking up at you.

You moan at the intensity of his words. “Yes!, please alpha don’t stop” you desperately beg him. Sy doesn’t waste any more time and goes down on you once again. His whole body is stretched out, his feet planted on the floor to hold himself in his position. You have never seen anything more beautiful.

You hear him moan and you open your eyes to look down at him, to see that his eyes are closed, totally blissed out as he sucks on your cunt, licking your entrance as if it’s the last meal he eats. You feel the hard tips of Sy’s fingers right at your opening, you moan when you feel two fingers parting your hot pussy, your walls instantly begin spasming around them, sucking them inside your depth.

He continues to tease you with his fingers for a few more seconds and then the warm rasp of his tongue sends a series of shivers trembling through your body. He licks across your sensitive bud leisurely, biding his time with his eyes on you to take in every single reaction you are giving him through every lick, every swirl of his tongue. He flicks his tongue from around your clit, down to your slit, moving back and forth as he continues to plunge his fingers into you. You begin to shake as you are nearing the edge. He must have felt it, because he continues to lick at your cunt, slick pouring out as he slurps it all up, growls deeply against your pussy. “Come for me, little ‘mega” You let out a whimper at his command but feel helpless to resist him. You can’t hold it in anymore as you come to your release. “Alpha!”. You moan out as you arch your back, Sy continues to milk through your orgasm and makes sure to gather every drop of cum.

It took a few minutes to come down from your intense orgasm. Sy moves up pressing soft kisses to your cheeks and down to your neck. “You did so good for me, Honey.” He praises as you. “Mmmm” you hum, keening to the praises.

After a few more moments, you’re a whimpering mess again, grinding your clit against Sy’s muscular thigh. Sy growls as he pulls back, “Alpha,” You whisper, cupping his jaw gently to get him to meet your eyes and drawing him close for one last soft kiss before you guide him to scent your neck. The pheromones that pour off of you has his breath stuttering. “Don’t hold back.” A desperate growl fills the air as Sy manhandles you onto your hands and knees, He doesn’t even have to say the words before you’re already presenting yourself for him, your back arching with your face buried in the sheets, and two big hands settle on your thighs to spread you out even more for him with your ass and pussy on full display. Your smell consumes him; all that he can think about is the taste of your arousal on his lips and how badly he needs to be inside you now. “Oh, pretty girl…” Sy groans, trailing his fingers along your slick cunt and smirking at the way you chase his touch with a needy whine. Two thick fingers tease your entrance in slow circles before sinking into you to the knuckle and Sy chuckled darkly as you writhed beneath him. “Gonna feel perfect ‘round my cock, aren’tcha?” “Pl-ease,” You stutter out and Sy seems to take pity in the desperation your voice holds for him. He hushes the disappointed sound you give at the loss of his fingers, his hands massaging at your hips soothingly. The scent of your heat and his rut permeate the air and curl around each other until they’re one, a combination of you both hanging in the air with a sense of finality. Of destiny. Sy knew he was right where he belonged, where he was always supposed to be. He just had to reach out and take it. Twin groans fall from you both when he finally presses his cock against you, only pausing a moment before pushing into you in one long, slow thrust. Fuck, you knew he was big, could tell by the way he fit in your hand alone that it would be a stretch to fit him inside of you, but you didn’t expect… this. To feel so full, like you could feel him in your stomach. Instinct has you arching further into him, enticing him to move, to fuck you quick and hard. A warm hand settles at the nape of your neck and squeezes, holding you firmly to the bed, and your body and mind both melt into a submissive haze. If the authority that he holds in that one simple movement wasn’t enough to have you following his every command, his words that follow definitely would’ve. “Stay still, little Omega.” He growls out, his chest plastered to your back as he settles his large frame over you. The sharp nip of his teeth against your shoulder makes you shudder. “I’ll give you what you need, don’t you worry. Gonna knot this pretty pussy, make you mine.” Sy fucks you just like that - towering over you with his hand clamped on your neck, kissing and licking and biting his fill of your soft skin. You were expecting him to fuck you rough and fast right from the jump, but his first thrusts are slow and precise, and it takes a moment for your heat crazed mind to realize he’s savoring this. He’s taking the time to memorize how your cunt feels around him while he still can, before his rut fully takes him from his careful and calculating self to a pussy-drunk and needy Alpha that wants nothing more than his sweet Omega underneath him. Slapping sounds fill the room as he quickens the pace, your slick coating his cock and making it easy for him to slide in and out of your velvety walls. You can feel his heavy balls slapping against your pussy, you let out pornographic moans and he continues to force your face into the bed by your neck. You’ve always wanted this, craved it ever since you were a hormonal teen, just wanting to be taken apart by a strong alpha. his fingers find your clit. A groan falls from his lips at the way your cunt flutters around him at his stimulation and you feel the first signs of his control crumbling in the way he thrusts into you sharply. “Alpha,” You whine, your voice low and pleading so very softly for him. “Please, I need you, need your knot -” The world falls out from under you as Sy pulls out suddenly, the exact opposite of what you were searching for, but you can’t voice your disdain before you’re on your back, blinking surprised up at a wild feral looking Sy. He doesn’t waste time slamming back inside you, fucking you hard without warning. “Perfect fuckin’ Omega,” Sy spits out like he’s enraged, but you keen beneath him nonetheless, pressing your legs to your chest as pleasure sparks across your skin. “Lettin’ me fill you up, takin’ me just like your s’posed to.” He growls, making you succumb deeper to a submissive state, making it known to Sy he can do whatever he wants, your body is his. Sy bends down sucking on one of your nipples, you moan as even more pleasure fills your body from the sensitivity of your nipples. You look down, watching as his fat cock thrusts in and out of you, his pubic hair getting wet from your slick. His balls tightening with each thrust. Thoughts of him rubbing his balls over your face fills your mind, but was quickly interrupted as Sy slightly changes the position. He holds your body closer, your tits pressed against his sweaty hairy chest. His tip is repeatedly hitting against the sensitive spot deep inside of you, you know he’s not ready to let up just yet, but you’re too on edge to hold on. “Sy, I-I’m gonna–” “I can smell it,” he groans, mouth your neck just above where your bond mark would be as he sucks harshly on it. A string of cuss words falls from your lips as your eyes clamp shut, relishing in your release as your pussy spasms around his cock. His movements don’t slow either – his pace is still erratic, plummeting into you at an ungodly rate. His hand grips your jaw suddenly, not enough to hurt but enough to get your attention through the haziness overtaking your mind. “Gimme those eyes, thaaaat’s it… you love this, don’tcha? All cock drunk and pretty for me, huh?” The praise washes over you like a salve to your aches and you open your mouth when his thumb drifts over your bottom lip, watching the way his eyes darken as you lick the tip of his thumb. Sy eagerly lets you draw it between your lips, even sliding it in and out like he would if he were fucking your mouth, and he lets out a low, “ah, fuck,” You can feel the flare of his growing knot catching with his every thrust. “Cum for me again, Omega,” His voice carries the undeniable thread of Alpha dominance, a command that cannot be denied even if you wanted to. Your body shakes beneath him as his fingers threaten to send you directly into over-stimulation, unable to keep your eyes open under the fire of pleasure blazing through your body. Sy’s face falls to your neck where your head is thrown back into the pillows and he greedily takes in your pleasure-drenched scent. “That’s my good girl, so fuckin’ good for me. Fuck.” “Sy,” You whimper his name so sweetly as you tangle your fingers in his hair and it sends him over the edge into a devastating orgasm. His growl is more animal than man as his knot locks him inside of you. He buries his head and finds the crook of your neck, breaking the flesh as his sharp teeth sink into your skin, claiming you as his. Screams blow past your lips, your chest tightens in pain, loving and hating the sensation all at once. Relief takes over once his tongue meets the small incisions made on your skin, his saliva filling the holes and alleviating the wounds as he licks up the blood. “That’s it ‘mega. Doing so good for me. So perfect for your Alpha.” Your heart flutters at his claim, have never felt as close to anyone as you do right now. You start to get overwhelmed with emotion as tears begin to fill, the connection between you and Sy binding stronger than ever and you couldn’t be happier. It felt like you were floating in thin air. Your body is unable to focus on any pain right now. Sy sucks the bond mark, easing the pain. “C’mon, ‘mega, bite me. Gotta mark me, too, Darlin’, c’mon,” He urges and for a moment you think your muddled mind is making you hallucinate. It isn’t exactly unheard of, an Alpha accepting their Omega’s mark, but it isn’t common, either. An alpha accepting a bite mark showcases an alpha submission and devotion to their omega. Your heart flutters in your chest as you lean up to kiss his neck before giving him a matching mark, right above his collarbone. Sy lets his mind run on that primal instinct of cleaning and caring for his mate, carefully licking the mark he left seared into your skin. It takes a moment’s shuffling, but Sy shifts until he’s got you settled on his chest to wait out his knot. It’s endearing, the way his hands rub up and down your bare back soothingly. His balloon size knot spurting out warm cum inside of you, you moan at the sensation and Sy growls lightly. Soft kisses slowly turned into licks, you were a little confused “what are you doing?” “Cleaning you up,” he answers calmly, his even more heightened senses finding nothing strange with this method of aftercare. You’re too immersed in your thoughts to question him any further; if this is what his alpha side was telling him to do then so be it. It goes on like that for a few days. In between the desperate bouts of fucking and sucking, Sy insists you let him feed you. Little bites of fruits and the protein rich heat snacks you kept around for this very scenario, held up to your lips by your insistent Alpha. The one time you tried to sneak from your bed while he slept ended with you fucked and knotted over the kitchen island. And even though it was a slightly uncomfortable position to be stuck in… It’s everything you want, everything you’ve ever wanted without even realizing it.

#captain syverson #captain syverson smut #captain syverson fanfiction #captain syverson x reader #alpha captain syverson #captain syverson x fem!reader #henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill x you #henry cavill abo #alpha henry cavill

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phoebonica · 5 months

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the Dracula/Sherlock Holmes crossover I want to see is the one where Simmons the asylum attendant wants Holmes to investigate how the patient he was monitoring was killed, and why his boss and the weird foreign doctor who was visiting covered it up. We talk about which characters know they're in Dracula but that guy was in a locked-room mystery and he never got to find out the answer.

#dracula #dracula daily #other period-appropriate fictional detectives are acceptable i just haven't read any #i just want to see somebody care about Renfield

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jessaerys · 6 days

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how many languages a character can speak is often narrative shorthand for intelligence so it is not surprising to me that it comes up often in wammy's house headcanons but i do find interesting that people often restrict the kids to perhaps three or four including their canonical english & japanese. perhaps throw in there a fanon mothertongue for mello since he is the one with the more foreign sounding real name and therefore exoticized. it's a very usamerican centric perspective imo given how unusual the usa's homogeneity of language is when contrasted to the rest of the world. being multilingual is relatively common really but especially in the global south where dialects vary greatly from location to location. i'd put five to seven languages still in the "very impressive but still in within normal range in the real world" level of ~genius~, BUT we are talking death note which runs on what you can call sherlock holmes logic (the characters are intelligent and therefore impressive because the writer who controls what deductions are right and which aren't, has willed it so) so personally i think it's in line with canon for both mello and near to be highly proficient in at the very least around a dozen languages for which they may have had formal education at wammy's (i don't think it's a stretch that more resources would be allocated towards the education of 'promising' heirs while neglecting those who aren't in the running. hey just like in real life!!!) not to mention there's also the matter of language maintenance & immersion; speaking any given language is famously a use it or lose it skill, but if we take into account that near is probably speaking with law enforcement and government agencies all over the world during the 5 year timeskip and mello is traveling all over the world they would have had plenty of practice. on top of that you can add another dozen languages that they have some level of fluency in that is either lost due to lack of practice or superficial in its acquisition to begin with. basically what im saying is: near and mello can and should be able to communicate in functionally whatever language suits them and when they are arguing they switch to the one that has the exact right flavor of motherfucker they want to call each other that day. near gets very talkative in creole when he's intoxicated. mello has a record for most curse words ever learned that no one will ever know about. japanese makes them far more aware of the structure of their rivalry. and that's not even getting into the semiotics of it all re: languages not only informing but creating the world around you and therefore subtly influencing your personality and sorry where am i what year is it

#death note #wammy boys #mihael keehl #nate river

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opencharacters · 5 months

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I've talked in the past about how The Doctor not having a name or permanent appearance is very easily molded to be put into your own derivative fiction.

Even so, perhaps you want to incorporate more whovian elements into your story. While things like the Daleks are obviously off the table, there are characters and enemies that are public domain in the whoniverse that are ripe for the picking.

I'm linking pages to the public domain versions of these characters. But have listed here where they show up in the Doctor Who expanded universe.

Cernunnos - Leader of the Original Mammoths (proposed identity of "the Enemy" from the War in Heaven) appeared first in the Faction Paradox books The Book of the War.

Doctor Omega - 1906 novel about a scientist who builds a machine that can travel through time and space. He's similar enough to be able to be molded into the role of the Doctor.

Dorian Gray - Character from the Bernice Summerfield audio drama "Shades of Gray" that has similar abilities of eternal youth as the literary character we know. He eventually got his own Big Finish audio drama series The Confessions of Dorian Gray

Ganieda - Said to be Merlin's sister in the short story A Honeycomb of Souls.

Hastur the Unspeakable - Fenric according to the novel All-Consuming Fire

Merlin - From various accounts is suggested to be an incarnation of the doctor, including the aforementioned A Honeycomb of Souls

Nyarlathotep - Suggested to be the doctor in the novel The Death of Art

Sherlock Holmes - According to The Book of the Enemy during the War in Heaven although he was a real person in the whoniverse his life got erased and turned into fiction

Thomas Carnacki - Has met the second doctor as well as Vastra, Jenny Flint, and Strax according to The Screaming Ceiling audio and the Foreign Devils novel

Yog-Sothoth - The Great Intelligence according to the book Millennial Rites

In addition to this there's also the Land of Fiction which is a realm canon to the doctor who series filled with public domain characters

Go forth and write your Doctor Who pastiches, nothing is stopping ya!

#doctor who #copyright #dweu #public domain #writing #writing tips #the doctor #sherlock holmes #cthulhu mythos

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doloresdisparue · 1 year

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“Lolita isn’t a perverse young girl. She’s a poor child who has been debauched and whose senses never stir under the caresses of the foul Humbert Humbert, whom she asks once, “how long did [he] think we were going to live in stuffy cabins, doing filthy things together…?” But to reply to your question: no, its success doesn’t annoy me, I am not like Conan Doyle, who out of snobbery or simple stupidity preferred to be known as the author of The Great Boer War, which he thought superior to his Sherlock Holmes.

It is equally interesting to dwell, as journalists say, on the problem of the inept degradation that the character of the nymphet Lolita, whom I invented in 1955, has undergone in the mind of the broad public. Not only has the perversity of this poor child been grotesquely exaggerated, but her physical appearance, her age, everything has been transformed by the illustrations in foreign publications. Girls of eighteen or more, sidewalk kittens, cheap models, or simple long-legged criminals, are baptized “nymphets” or “Lolitas” in news stories in magazines in Italy, France, Germany, etc.; and the covers of translations, Turkish or Arab, reach the height of ineptitude when they feature a young woman with opulent contours and a blond mane imagined by boobies who have never read my book.

In reality Lolita is a little girl of twelve, whereas Humbert Humbert is a mature man, and it’s the abyss between his age and that of the little girl that produces the vacuum, the vertigo, the seduction of mortal danger. Secondly, it’s the imagination of the sad satyr that makes a magic creature of this little American schoolgirl, as banal and normal in her way as the poet manqué Humbert is in his. Outside the maniacal gaze of Humbert there is no nymphet. Lolita the nymphet exists only through the obsession that destroys Humbert. Here’s an essential aspect of a unique book that has been betrayed by a factitious popularity.”

- Vladimir Nabokov in an Interview with Bernard Pivot for Apostrophes (1975)

#vladimir nabokov #dolores haze #im reading collected interviews rn and he says this over and over and over again #and no one ever listened #lolita novel

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padfootdaredmetoo · 10 months

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Hi again! Here's the second Henry Sherlock X Peaky idea I had if you wanted! It would be a Sister Holmes X Tommy Shelby where reader is Tom's secretary and has just stated dating him but hasn't told her family yet because she hasn't seen them in a while. Then maybe one day a girl (badly disguised as a boy) is caught snooping around the betting shop and as Arthur takes her to Tom's office for questioning the reader immediately clocks it as her little sister who a agreed to spy for Sherlock. Then reader finds him and is berating him for putting Enola in danger while Sherlock is mad about her ruining their cover because he's investigating Tom for a case and as their arguing the reader says she knows Tom didn't do it because he was with her at the time (maybe she reveals the hickies) and Sherlock just freezes and goes into big bro mode while the Shelby family is trying to figure out what's going on because for once they didn't commit this crime and they haven't heard about the readers family yet. And yeah! That was the other idea😂 idk which to send in so you can choose which you'd rather do! Feel free to change anything about them too! I just desire some Sherlock x Peaky goodness 😂 ❤️❤️ also I hope those weren't too long I just didn't know how to explain them shortly!

Have a great night/day/time! ❤️❤️ and remember: GO YOU!!

Hey Love,

Hope you enjoy this and thank you for waiting so long! Was away on vacation (realized I didn't post that I was away.) Thanks again for these requests! they were so fun!!!

Warnings: Mention of child trafficking/conflict between family / peaky blinders-related themes

You were tired after being up all night. The conditions were nothing to complain about though. You lay in bed thinking about the chaos that surrounded your boss, and your relationship to him. You knew he wasn’t always a good man. But just like the morning sun streaming through your curtains, your mind was hazy.

This feeling was not something you had experienced before. Complete ease. You were relaxed when he was around, and you even enjoyed being around his family. The feeling was addictive and considering the family you were born into it wasn't a mystery how you had ended up with such an appetite.

While the Shelby family could match your folks for chaos, they had a consuming warmth about them that was foreign to you.

You thought long and hard on your way to the betting shop. This emotion could be a result of lovemaking, you knew enough about brain chemistry to know that there was a scientific side to these things. But why were you so happy the rest of the time? Why were you becoming so attached to him and his family?

You got to the betting shop and were thankful to see tea brewing in the kitchen upstairs. You poured a cup and grabbed a muffin from the counter before settling in at your desk.

Your mind was finally distracted from trying to sort out your feelings. Relief flooded you as you tied your hair out of the way and dug into the various file folders. You were doing your favorite, well, second favorite thing. Analyzing data for patterns. This particular situation was close to your heart you wanted to find the evidence as quickly as possible.

You were so consumed with compiling evidence that you didn't even notice that something had kicked up in the betting shop until Arthur had dragged the commotion to the front of your desk.

He held a girl dressed in boy's clothes by the collar of her shirt. The girl was young with a face that resembled yours a great deal. Your stomach dropped and you weren't sure if you wanted to shout at him to take his hands off of her or die of embarrassment.

Your own appearance was embarrassing enough, your hair was tied up in a scarf, and your thick-rimmed reading glasses probably only made your eyes look even wider than they were.

“Enola?!” You hissed. Your whole nervous system kicked into high gear. She could have been killed. Arthur could have killed your baby sister.

You stood up and Arthur was smart enough to release his grip on her.

“What the bloody hell are you doing?!” She looked up at you with sad eyes, a trick that had been abused many times over the years of broken dolls and colored pencil scribbles on the pages of your books.

“Arthur?! What on earth-” Polly shouted from upstairs.

“Eh - Looks like it's being handled,” Arthur called back, giving you a wink. His face told you that he knew exactly what emotion you were feeling. Older sibling to older sibling, he was going to let you handle your sister. Rather than the alternative, which would have been to put her in the cellar till Thomas got back.

Your stomach dropped.

“Enola what the fuck.” Your voice was low and she gave up on looking sad.

“Fine.” She rolled her eyes and you fought the urge to slap her. She gave you a meaningful look and slowly said “It’s family business”

Arthur snorted slightly. Polly was coming down the stairs.

“I called Thomas. Now what is going-” She started but you cut her off.

“Enola, why are you here, I trust them with family business.”

“Well, you shouldn't.” She snorted and you hated the arrogance that was radiating off of the girl. This attitude and performance lead you to the conclusion that Sherlock must have sent her. She was always hungry for his approval.

“What does Sherlock want with them?” You asked firmly. Her eyes widened slightly but she brushed it off.

“How long have you worked here?” She said giving you a cold look.

“I’m the one interrogating you.” You reminded her. “Now where is Sherlock? I’ll just ask him myself.”

Just then as if summoned he came through the doorway with Thomas. Your temper flared up and you gripped the edge of your desk to steady yourself.

“Could have just called me.” You said trying to keep the anger out of your voice.

“You can’t really be trusted on this one.” He said in his usual unbothered tone. You knew that this mess was clearly for an ongoing case and that because you were employed here you couldn't be involved. But it hurt non the less.

“Right.” You said narrowing your eyes. “Get it over with. Now.” You demanded, unsure if Arthur took a step closer toward you in an effort to show solidarity or if it was in case you ended up being a threat to the family.

“Well, I’ve been employed by a family to investigate the Shelby family here. Yesterday it became an active murder investigation..”

You watched an expression cross Thomas’s face and you wondered if he lied about that part of his life being packed away. You caught a look of confusion on Polly’s face that quickly turned into a stony mask. She didn't know what this was about, but she’d turn on you if it was necessary.

“What family and when?” You said sharply. You felt Thomas’s cold eyes stay locked on you.

“Harris, I placed the time of death around 8pm.” He bit back.

“We were at dinner, I can account for his whereabouts for the whole evening. Before you accuse me of lying, I’ve been looking through all their books and paperwork.” You picked up the papers you had been collecting your findings on. You almost wanted to laugh at your luck, for once you had the upper hand.

“Your employer didn't take too kindly to us after we refused an offer they made regarding the children at the orphanage.” Sherlock’s face paled slightly. “I’ve got more than enough evidence through the paperwork here to put them away for life. Human trafficking.”

You both entered a famous Holmes staring contest and he knew that he’d messed up. You weren't expecting him to look so angry though. Sure when you were children he would get mad like this. You hoped he was angry at the horrible crimes being committed but something in your stomach said otherwise.

You wanted to break and look to Thomas. You suddenly became aware yet again that your hair was messy and you were still wearing your glasses. You normally always took them off when someone was approaching. Your cheeks got slightly pink at the thought of him judging you.

“The real question is what will we do to bring them down,” Polly said trying to break up the tension.

“Why this?” Sherlock’s voice cut like a knife as he gestured to the room.

“We can discuss this later.” He didn't budge and you were grateful that Polly started to pull Enola up the stairs.

“Come let's get you some tea and a snack,” She said quietly. Polly shot Arthur a look over her shoulder. He gave you a reluctant look but followed her out of the room.

Thomas stayed against the wall looking as relaxed and bored as he always did when in the company of outsiders.

“Why them?”Sherlock repeated once he realized Thomas wouldn't be leaving, and you realized it was the same question that had been nagging you all morning.

“They make me happy. He makes me happy.” You said quickly.

“They are criminals.”

“These are hard-working people. You snoop around if you like, but you won't find anything criminal here.” You knew this because you handled the transition of the business yourself.

“I don't like it.” He said firmly and the emotion he was giving off finally made sense. He wasn't one-upping you, he was trying to protect you.

“You wouldn't like it if it was anyone else either.” You said with a small smile finally understanding. “I’m sure we can help each other with this?” You gestured to the paperwork.

“Of course.” He nodded and came to stand next to you. Just like that things fell into their usual flow, you explaining a pattern and him trying to prove you wrong to help narrow it down. You and him went back and forth at a rapid pace and within a few moments, he was in agreement with you. Just then you heard Enola speak.

“Did I miss all the good stuff?” She asked Thomas and you looked up, breaking your concentration. He gave her a small smile. Once seeing his friendly nature you went back to pulling the last of the stolen documents you hadn't examined yet.

“I think they have most of it sorted,” Thomas responded.

“Damn.” Enola sighed. “Was it cool? I bet it was cool.”

“Very.” Thomas’s response caught you off guard.

“Sorry about your shop - and everything.” She said in an uncharacteristically shy voice.

“It’s alright. Feel free to stop by anytime.” You watched Enola’s face light up at his words. While they were legal on paper, you knew this was a dangerous place and probably always would be. Was Sherlock's world any different? As long as the family kept her safe she would be fine you reassured yourself.

“Thanks.” She held out her hand to him.

“Enola.”

“Thomas.”

They chatted and your heart got a little bit softer the more they spoke.

“This is enough to take to the inspector.” Sherlock finally said officially letting you win in his own way.

Your eyes snapped up and looked to Thomas, he was listening to something Enola was explaining. He gave you a nod before looking back at your little sister.

“Excellent - erm Thanks.” You said not sure how to proceed with things. “I know they have a rough history. But so do we.”

“You and Enola are my responsibility. I’ll be around.” He gave you a long look before standing up. He shook hands with Thomas and you walked him and Enola to the front door. You said your goodbyes and watched them hail a cab.

Once they were on their way you took a few deep breaths before going back into the shop. You took your hair down and tucked your glasses into the pocket of your sweater.

After another moment you went back inside to apologize.

You came back in and heard their voices from the bottom of the stairs. It sounded like they were filling John in on what he had missed.

“I’ve never seen anything like it. It was like watching a machine or something.” Thomas said and you weren't sure how you felt about his words. You were a receptionist on paper, you could have done many things with your life. But this job was invisible. No one bothered you, no one compared you to either of your big brothers. It was comfortable. When Thomas asked you to take a look at things you were simply going to give him your findings so he could bring those bastards down. You didn't want credit or publicity. You certainly didn't want him to see you as that nerdy girl with glasses who had so often been belittled.

“Machine or not, she’s one of them. She’s handled everything! She could take us down any moment - you just can’t-” Polly hissed and you felt her words cut through you like hot knives.

“I’ll handle it.” Thomas cut her off darkly and you felt like you had been dunked into cold water.

“Tom - at least hear her out. Not like they treated her nicely. Maybe she’s different?” Arthur said in a pleading tone but there was no response.

You knocked on the door frame to announce your presence. Sharp eyes landed on you and you took a breath trying to look composed.

“Walk me home?” You asked Thomas and he looked at you for a long moment as if he was studying something strange in a museum. He gave you a nod and took your arm.

He didn't say a word the whole way back. You felt his eyes land on you periodically and each time your heart rate sped up. These were last looks and you could feel parts of you start o spin out of control.

You opened the door to your flat with shaking hands. Once you pushed it open the stuffy air made it even harder to breathe. He shut the door and locked it, the sound making your chest constrict even tighter. You felt like you were being suffocated, but now wasn't the time to show such emotions.

“Why did you help us?” The question was simple and you were relieved he was going to hear you out, even if he just had the patience for a fraction of the story, it would lessen the burden on your chest significantly.

“You needed help. You wanted to be better.” It was hard to get your voice up above a whisper. Your mind flashed to all the times you wondered about him and his family and why they would be converting their business over to be completely legal in the first place. They would reach much farther opportunities being shady. What was in it for them? But there was always something shining in Thomas’s eyes that answered your question. Pride. He didn't care about making more money at this point. He cared about his family being respected after a hard life of being dismissed and shit on.

You remembered the various balls and social events you had been forced into at Mycrofts side. All the men that had tried to take your hand in marriage. All from grand wealthy families that had started much like Thomas had. It was unavoidable. You thought about how your life would have been as a wife instead of a gangster's girlfriend.

“You could have turned us in any time. Given your bothers the tip-off”

Brothers plural. So he knew Mycroft too. Fuck.

“Why would I?” You mumbled feeling defeated. “They care about themselves. Well, not Sherlock, he cares in his own way. Enola is just a kid still. Mycroft only cares about himself.”

“He hasn't pressured you for information on us?”

“We would have to talk for him to do that. As far as he knows I’m a “worthless spinster living within the dregs of society.” You mocked his voice feeling frustrated. If his existence was the thing to fuck this up for you, you would find a way to make him pay for it.

“Why didn't you tell me about your family?” He was still as cold as you expected him to be but there was a slight toe of hurt in his voice.

“Well, there's the Holmes family that everyone sees and then the other side. I just - I really like it here. Your family is - more - they like me. They seem to enjoy having me around. It’s not a big competition all the time. And then you -” Your voice cut and tears started to become unavoidable.

“Well, nothing bad has happened.” he shrugged. “Mycroft certainly doesn't know we're together.” He said with a smile. You wanted to know how he knew that.

“Everything was destroyed anyway. It would be my word against yours, and as you can see no one listens to me anyway.”

“I do.” He said and pulled you against him into a tight hug.

_________________

He proposes shortly after.

Mycroft finds out and needs to be taken to the hospital because he thinks he's having a heart attack

Sherlock randomly shows up at Arrow House while You are shopping with Enola. Examining the whole house while Tommy smokes and follows him. Eventually, Sherlock agrees that this is a fine house for you to run. That if Thomas fucks up in any way that Sherlock would kill him and that Sherlock was sure he wouldn't get caught. They shake on it.

They end up working together occasionally. Enola becoming very attached to Esme & Polly. Sherlock eventually becoming fond of the family and occasionally accepting a dinner invitation when he had time.

#peaky blinders #tommy shelby #peaky blinders imagine #tommy shelby x reader #thomas shelby #tommy shelby imagine #thomas shelby imagine #thomas shelby x reader #Sherlock #Sherlock Holmes #Holmes Sister #enola holmes

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un-monstre · 5 months

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If I lived in Sherlock Holmes’ London I would do everything in my power to make it so he couldn’t suss me out. I’d get a tie pin with a club I’m not affiliated with. Write with my left hand sometimes just to stain it the same as my right. Buy a suit coat with a foreign cut. Anything to avoid giving him the satisfaction.

#letters from watson #sherlock holmes

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thebeesareback · 10 months

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Here's one for the hotties

The following things actually occur in the original Sherlock Holmes stories

Watson doesn't know what the KKK is

Someone leaves the USA because Black people were being treated too well (no, that's not how they phrased it)

Someone receives a death threat in the form of three orange pips

Three people from the same family all die, one after another, after they inherit a huge amount of money. The police don't think this is suspicious

Sherlock sits in his armchair and puts his legs up on the mantelpiece

Apparently, in times of great tragedy, people automatically gravitate towards Watson's wife. Is it Mary? Is it another, anonymous wife? Is it the ferrywoman from the River Styx?

Watson visits an opium den, is horrified by all of the people who have consumed it, and then (very politely) declines a pipe from the receptionist

Sherlock takes a sponge to jail and washes a prisoner

Sherlock needs a suspect out of town for the night, so he sends the suspect and Watson on a fake trail to the furthest-away place he can think of. Essex.

Not really a fun fact, but it's really interesting to see how many things/concerns from the late 19th century are still around. There's everything that would look right at home in the Daily Mail - fear of foreigners, suspicion of beggars scamming you - and then the totally mundane, like people checking train times. If there was a moment where Sherlock and Watson checked Trainline, it wouldn't feel out of place at all

Anyway go and be gay and do crime

#john watson #johnlock #sherlock #sherlock holmes #watson #superwholock #acd holmes #acd johnlock #acd sherlock holmes #acd watson #sir arthur conan doyle

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rayofdawnworld · 18 days

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Too Late part 3

Here is part 3 of Too Late a fic that was inspired by this board done by the brilliant @darkficsyouneveraskedfor, please check out her page if you don't already know her and @thezombieprostitute also a brilliant writer that you look in too in case you don't already know her either.

This is a work of Dark Fiction. It WILL contain dark themes. I will post the appropriate tags as they become relevant.

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Please tell me your thoughts, this is my first Reader insert so I'm still a bit unsure if I'm doing a good job. I love constructive criticism.

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Part One, Part Two

Mr. Beckwourth was a kind soul. You came across him one early morning on your way to the university, six months into your escape, unconscious by the sidewalk. You didn’t know how long he had been there, but he did have a wicked gush on his forehead. Luckily for you and him, the milk lad was passing by on his way to deliveries when he spotted the two of you and recognised the old man instantly. Telling you to wait with him, the young man sprinted in a direction and came back with the man's neighbours, a foreign middle-aged couple. After telling them where you worked and asking them to send any news, you collected yourself and made your way to work.

You received news about him a week later. The poor man was robbed; yes, he was fine; no, he didn't see who did it. After some visits and friendly banter, you became friends and had a standing agreement that every Saturday morning, you would go out to the docks with Mr. Beckwourth to get his supply of fish and then help him sell it in the market.

You were busily accepting an order of salmon and herring when your stomach lurched. Surely you were mistaken.

Ever since you ran away from your previous life, you have lived in fear of a tall figure with broad shoulders finding you and dragging you back to those horrid people you called family. They would kill you if you ever went back home before you came of age, after what became of Darling Anne.

There was no way that a man like Sherlock Holmes would come to the market to buy his food. Unless he was in one of his cases, why would it bring him here? You had no clue; you just hoped that whatever it was didn't bring him to this point.

Oh, yes, you had followed the news discreetly (no point in letting those around you know you were literate.), but diligently. You knew all about him and his service to the crown and its citizens. Best not to test fate. I’ve come too far. Your thought was desperate as you dove below the stall and rubbed some fish guts on your cheek and head. I’ll have to spend some money in one of the washhouses with warm water then. Mrs. Acker will have a fit if I show up soiled again. You rose again with a cheery smile, despite your fear about whether you may or may not have been seen.

You were hyper-aware of yourself leaving the market. Once, twice, three times you could have sworn you were being followed, but when you stopped in front of a shop or pretended to turn in the wrong street, with a piece of paper in your hand to make it believable, you had either come across a vagrant or no one at all. It took you longer than normal to get to the washhouse, but it was worth the coin and your time. You didn't afford yourself many luxuries, but good ointments and oils for your skin, courtesy of the two nurses, who were just old school mates and the young governess who took care of some lonely boys on the other side of London at night, and a weekly wash—a habit picked up by your mother and father's stay in their respective corners of the east—were a must. It was, in part, also why you decided to help Mr. Beckwourth. Not only did you like the old man, it also gave you a reason to visit the washhouses once a week. The ones with warm and hot water were cheaper than the tepid tub that Mrs. Acker managed. Having one last look around, you quickly dogged into the washhouse.

It was closer to evening when you finally made it to the house. Exsusted, not only from the week of labour you had but from walking up and down the streets of London just in case your follower from last night or that nuisance Sherlock Holmes had seen you or at least suspected it was you and tried to follow you back to your residence.

Thanking Mrs. Acker for allowing you to take your supper in your room, you made your way up to what once had been a small attic workshop with a partial glass roof but was now a small room. You didn't mind it. The glass part of the roof had a hatch you could open in the summer, keeping the room cool. After all, who would climb to the roof to steal steel from a humble boarding house? And since the fireplace chimney ran through your room, it kept the winter chill out, despite part of the roof being made of glass. You liked the roof like this. It saved you on candles and gas for the lantern; it provided you with lots of natural light for you to read when you were in your room. And you always did love the sound of the rain.

All in all, it was a quiet place with its share of whimsy. You had fallen in love with it the moment you saw it. Yes, it was a hassle to go down a flight of stairs every time you needed to go to the washroom, but since it was on the smaller side and was in the attic, it did come in cheaper than the other rooms, which suited you nicely. After eating, you settled down for some well-earned rest.

You didn't know that on the other side of London, in an apartment on Baker Street, a tall man with wide shoulders and dark blue eyes seethed in anger.

It had been by sheer coincidence that he found you at the market. Watson had to do some hours at the hospital, and Mary, being heavily pregnant, asked him to help her with her errands at the market. He stood silent as you helped an older man behind the fishmonger's stand. You couldn't help but notice your still-smooth hands. They had thickened with what he deduced was years of hard work, but they were still fine with smooth skin. On the subject of your skin, that too was fine, smooth, and quite clean. It didn't have any of the telltale muck common among the more impoverished folk. He didn't see how you could afford the cost of regular baths in a boarding house, so it could only be through the use of the washhouses that you could keep so clean. It still didn't explain the softness of your skin and healthy glow. Sherlock only had time to quickly turn around before you raised your eyes in his direction. He was going to take advantage of his luck. It seemed that he would move his plans forward by a whole day and a half. Making sure that Mary was alright and excusing himself, he made his way to the first beggar he found near the steps of the market.

He was going to put his homeless network to good use. He would know where you lived by nightfall.

Nightfall provided him with nothing. Despite no less than fifteen of his best in the Homeless Network having followed you discreetly, you still managed to give them the slip, more or less where he had followed you last night. He grabbed the skull on the fire mantle and threw it angrily at the wall. He then shot the wall for good measure.

That sent Mr. Hudson into hysteria, threatening him about calling the Yard. No doubt Watson would have some choice words come Monday morning if previous fits of rage had taught him anything. He growled and threw more things at the wall opposite him.

Pussycat was in for a right spanking when he finally got his hands on her.

Pussycat was in for a whole lot more when he got his hands on her. A lot more.

Sherlock smiled in the darkness, clutching his violin bow in his hands.

#obsessed!sherlock #dark!sherlock holmes #reader insert #smart!reader

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