#Holmes is occasionally lonely

[heroesriseandfall]

Introduction to Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying, April 1990

Introduction by Dennis O'Neil for Batman: A Lonely Place of Dying (1990 collected edition)

Transcription below the cut/readmore.

INTRODUCTION by DENNIS O'NEIL

Robin was gone. We needed a new Boy Wonder. There had been two previous Robins. The original first appeared less than a year after a new costumed hero called Batman made his debut in DETECTIVE COMICS #27, to instant success. Some time within the next eleven months, his creators, artist Bob Kane and his writer-collaborator Bill Finger, decided to give their dark, obsessed hero a kind of surrogate son, Robin, who was hailed on the cover of DETECTIVE #36 as “the sensational character-find of 1940—Robin, The Boy Wonder.” Over the next 40 years, Batman’s fortunes varied: always, however, Robin was at Batman’s side.

He served a couple of functions. If Batman were real (and it may shock some of our more avid readers to learn he isn’t), and if he were the grim, obsessed loner he is often portrayed as, Robin, with some help from Batman's faithful butler Alfred, would keep him sane; a man whose every waking hour is focused on the grimmest aspects of society, who is unable to release the effects of seeing his parents murdered, whose life is an amalgam of sudden violence and lonely vigilance, would soon skew into a nasty insanity if he did not have someone to care for, someone to maintain a link with common humanity. But Batman is, of course, not real. (My apologies to avid readers.) He isn’t exactly a fictional character—more on that shortly—but he does not and could not exist as a living, breathing human being. That doesn’t make Robin any less useful: he serves the same functions in the Batman stories as Watson served in the Sherlock Holmes canon and the gravedigger serves in Hamlet: like Holmes’s faithful doctor, Robin is a sounding board, a person with whom the hero can have dialogues and thus let the reader know how brilliantly he’s handling matters and like the gravedigger, he occasionally provides a bright note in an otherwise relentlessly morose narrative.

Which is why I was a trifle uneasy when we—the editorial staff of DC Comics—decided to let our audience decide whether he would live or die. It came to be known in our offices as the “telephone stunt.” We had a character, Robin, the readers didn’t seem terribly fond of. This wasn’t the original Robin, the “character-find of 1940”; that Robin was Dick Grayson and he had graduated from sidekick to bona fide hero who fronted a group of evil-fighting adolescents, The Teen Titans. In 1983, it was decreed that Robin should grow up and assume a crime-fighting identity of his own—become his own man, as befitted the leader of the mighty Titans. He left Batman’s world to assume the name, costume, and persona of Nightwing. Gerry Conway and Don Newton replaced him with a second Robin, Jason Todd, whose biography was virtually identical to that of Dick Grayson. Why not? Gerry and Don were not trying to innovate, they were simply filling a void. The assignment they were given was simple: Provide another Robin. Quickly and with as little fuss as possible.

In 1986, Max Allan Collins inherited the Batman writing assignment and told his editor he had an idea for an improved Jason Todd. Make him a street kid, Collins said. Make his parents criminals. Have him and Batman on opposite sides at first. Sounded fine to the editor and, since DC was in the middle of a vast, company-wide overhaul of storylines anyway, Collins was told to go ahead. I was the editor; I did the telling. And I’d do it again, today. Collins’s Robin was dramatic, did have story potential. But readers didn’t take to him. I don't know now, and will probably never know why. Jason was accepted as long as he was a Dick Grayson clone, but when he acquired a distinct and, Collins and I still believe, more interesting backstory, their affection cooled. Maybe we—me and the writers who followed Collins—should have worked harder at making Jason likeable. Or maybe, I guessed, on some subconscious level our most loyal readers felt Jason was a usurper. For whatever reason, Jason was not the favorite Dick had been. He wasn’t hated, exactly, but he wasn’t loved, either. Should we write him out of the continuity? It didn’t seem like a bad idea, and when we thought of the experiment that became the telephone stunt, Jason seemed the perfect subject for it. The mechanics were pretty simple: we put Jason in an explosion and gave the readers two telephone numbers they could call, the first to vote that Jason would survive the blast, the second to vote that he wouldn't.

It was successful—oh my, yes. We expected to generate some interest, but not the amount or intensity we got. As soon as the final vote was tallied—5271 for Jasons survival, a deciding 5343 against—the calls began. For most of three days, I talked to journalists, disc jockeys, television reporters. We got a lot of compliments. They ranged from a critic’s liking our stunt to the participatory drama of avant garde theater to the brilliant comedy team of Penn and Teller expressing mock envy that we beat them to “the kill-your-partner-900-number scam.” But then came the backlash, ugly and, to me at least, totally unexpected: one reporter claimed that the whole event had been rigged—that, in fact, we had decided on Jason’s demise ahead of time and staged an elaborate charade; a teary grandmother said that her grandchildren loved Jason and now we’d killed him; several colleagues accused us of turning our magazines into a “Roman circus.” Cynical was a word used. And exploitive. Sleazy. Dishonorable. Wait a minute, I wanted to reply. Jason Todd is just a phantom, a figment of several imaginations. No real kid died. No real anything died. It’s all just stories—

I would have been wrong. Batman, and Superman, and Wonder Woman and their supporting casts are quite a bit more than “just stories” if, by “stories,” we mean ephemeral amusements. They’ve been in continuous magazine publication for a half-century, and they’ve been in movies, and television shows, and in novels, and on cereal boxes and T-shirts and underwear and candy bars and yo-yos and games—thousands of ventures. For fifty years. Fifty years! Although the circulation of our magazines is relatively modest, these characters have been so enduring, so pervasive, they have permeated our collective consciousness. Everybody recognizes them. They are our post-industrial folklore and, as such, they mean much more to people than a few minutes’ idle amusement. They’re part of the psychic family. The public and apparently callous slaying of one of their number was, to some, a vicious attack on the special part of their souls that needs awe, magic, heroism.

We had promised to abide by the telephone poll, and we would. But within a few days, it became apparent that we’d have to begin growing another Robin. We had forgotten that Batman exists outside the pages of our comics, is not the exclusive property of DC’s editorial staff; because he is both popular and imperishable, hundreds of others have some legitimate interest in him (not the least of whom are the readers who, for one reason or another, had missed the voting.) Our medium may have kept him alive, but others have added immeasurably to his success. When we began hearing from them, the consensus was that a Batman without a Robin wasn't quite a Batman. I wasn’t surprised. Nor did I disagree, particularly. So our problem became: how to create Robin III without generating the hostility that plagued poor Jason. Dick Grayson was the answer. If, as we thought, readers felt Jason had somehow usurped Dick’s place, then we should link the new Robin to Dick—give Robin III his predecessor’s stamp of approval. One writer had done almost all of the Dick Grayson material DC had published for a decade: Marv Wolfman, co-creator (with George Pérez) of the New Teen Titans. That made Mary the first, and really only, choice to undertake the task of giving Batman a new helper. And if we were using Marv, why not have some of the story happen in the pages of THE NEW TITANS, which he was already writing, and thus be able to take advantage of the very considerable talents of Marv's collaborator on the Titans, George Pérez? George volunteered to co-plot the story with Mary and do layouts on the TITANS episodes, and editor Mike Carlin enlisted Tom Grummett and Bob McLeod to complete George's graphics work. I asked the regular BATMAN artists, Jim Aparo and Mike DeCarlo, to handle the BATMAN issues. Finally, we chose a name for Robin III—Tim Drake—and, after a couple of editorial conferences, six gifted gentlemen retired to do what they do best.

The result seemed worthy of being collected between one set of covers, to be read as a graphic novel. We decided to do that and you’re holding the result. I hope you enjoy it. But please don’t think it’s the end of the Robin III saga. Dick Grayson’s lasted 50 years, after all, and Tim Drake does have his blessing.

Dennis O’Neil

April 1990

[fogdraws]

A Scandal at Baker Street,

An ACD Sherlock fanfiction oneshot based on "A Scandal in Bohemia".

"He could not help but bear the impression that the pair held a deeper meaning behind the gazes and touches they'd shared so earnestly. Looking out the window and to the repetitive London landscape, he decided not to venture further into his poderings; he certainly did not wish to murk the image he had of the detective — nor the doctor’s — with such assumptions. Soot and ash from the city filled his nose as he let sleep take over his mind; now, he could only hope."

Full piece under the cut!

He was nervous. He should not be, but when your whole reputation (and relationship, though the latter concerned him far less) depends on this, it may be understandable to fret a little. So yes, he was anxious as he brought his hands to adjust the mask that covered the upper half of his face — a measure he took to protect himself; today he would be Count Von Kramm, nevertheless.

A plaque, in which was written “Baker Street, 221B”, came into his vision just before the brougham came to a halt. The modest brick facade was unassuming, though the name it bore was whispered in both awe and reverence across the continent. From what he was told, this apartment block — quite underwhelming, if he was to be truthful — was home to a brilliant, energetic man, one that would have (or find) the answer to any enigma given in a manner no one else could compare to. He hopes that’s true, for he had come from a long way, Germany, just for this.

“Come in!” A voice clamored from inside the door when he knocked it. A sweet old lady had escorted him inside the block. Once again, supposed Von Kramm adjusts the black mask, pushing its tails to tighten the hold — it was rather loose and annoying.

Upon opening the door, he was met not by the lone figure he had anticipated, but by two men: one standing tall and lanky, dark hair messy and looking quite in need of a trim; and the other, on a heavier build, in a much more neat fashion, sat and with a notebook in his hands. That defied his former expectations — the matter was of the most private sense, not meant to be shared to noone more than the detective. Both of them looked at him, expectantly.

“You had my note?” He didn’t really know which one was supposed to be Sherlock Holmes. Both of them seemed to feel at home. “I told you that I would call.”

“Pray take a seat. This is my good friend and colleague, Dr. Watson, who is occasionally good enough to help me in my cases,” the fair-haired gentleman brightened up to that, giving a lighthearted chuckle. “Whom have I the honor to address?” Funny, he thought, that he kind of expected to be the detective, the more preen one.

“You may address me as the Count Von Kramm, a Bohemian nobleman. I understand that this gentleman, your friend, is a man of honor and discretion, whom I may trust with a matter of the most extreme importance. If not, I should much prefer to communicate with you alone.” He would not let himself be vulnerable.

At that, Dr. Watson made it as if to stand up, but was quickly caught by the wrist by Mr. Holmes’ own hand. Although initially he looked a bit distraught, the doctor quickly looked at the other with… something tender in his eyes. With gentle yet firm pressure, the tall man guided his companion back into his seat, their proximity leaving Von Kramm distinctly uncomfortable.

It was a quiet exchange, nothing more than a fleeting gesture between the two men, but it left him unsettled, as though he had intruded upon a private understanding, one far deeper than he could comprehend. In their shared glance, he felt not merely a lack of privacy, but an absence of control. Like he shouldn't be there.

Mr. Holmes didn’t move, leaning towards and looking directly at the doctor, both his hands firmly keeping the wrists of the fair-haired gentleman on the armrest. “It is both, or none,” the consulting detective said, low and slowly. Not looking at Von Kramm, as he should, but at Dr. Watson, still — much like the words were directed to the latter, not the former.

With a swift movement, the detective was upright again. Dr. Watson shifted in his seat, tangling his legs so they were crossed — the notebook, long ago forgotten on his lap, was at his hands again. “You may say before this gentleman anything which you may say to me,” Mr. Holmes affirmed, as if he hadn't just done the strangest thing.

He shrugged his shoulders, “Then I must begin,” he started, “by binding you both to absolute secrecy for two years; at the end of that time the matter will be of no importance.” After this display, he's not sure it's possible to separate the pair, even though it would be far more preferable to deal with the detective alone.

“I promise.”

“And I,” Dr. Watson complied.

Once again, it felt much like the words weren't meant to him, but to one another.

The doctor scribbled something on the small notebook of his and, as Von Kramm made to look at it discreetly, the fair-haired gentleman slightly covered the paper.

“You will excuse this mask,” he tried to ignore the pair’s mannerisms and the implications that came through his mind. “The august person who employs me wishes his agent to be unknown to you, and I may confess at once that the title by which I have just called myself is not exactly my own.”

When he told mr. Holmes whom the detective had the honour of working for, he was met with the utmost disdain, raising annoyance upon himself. The man had dared to close his eyes and relax in the nearest armchair, striking a most dramatic pose. Dr. Watson stared at him out of the corner of his eye. “I was aware of it,” the detective said, and then, “I was also aware of that,” when Von Kramm tried to emphasize the absolute import of the ordeal.

Should this man be the best detective of Europe whole, he didn't wish to see what would be of the lesser ones. Von Kramm looked over to the fair-haired gentleman to express his indignation; he only had attention for the detective, however, legs still crossed. Upon studying Dr. Watson's expression for a second, the look he saw in his eyes was one of badly-contained longing. Von Kramm, then, avoided looking at the doctor again.

“If your Majesty would condescend to state your case,” the consulting detective remarked, “I should be better able to advise you,” as he slowly reopened his eyes, a look of impatience stamped on his arched eyebrows. Much like he was bored out of his mind; this man was getting onto his frail nerves.

Then, what mr. Sherlock had just said dawned on Von Kramm, drawing out a sharp inhale out of himself. He sprang up from his chair. It would do nothing now, to pretend his identity. This man knew it!

In a fit of rage, he — the King of Bohemia, had now been caught — tore off the mask that had irritated his face for the whole day, tossing it upon the floor. “You are right,” he raised his voice, “I am the King. Why should I attempt to conceal it?” The doctor appeared to be surprised too. And never did he seem to stop writing words in that notebook of his. “Why, indeed?” Mr. Holmes murmured, as if the king wasn't ready to yell and shout.

Forcing his temper to subside, the king proceeded to tell his story. Mr. Holmes listened in a calm manner, making the effort of opening his grey eyes every so often, only to remark something to Dr. Watson with a quiet smile on his lips and close them again. To that, the fair-haired gentleman always nodded in contempt or flatter the man's deduction abilities. Their dynamic seemed stable, comfortable. For the whole ordeal, the detective constantly yawned and feigned disinterest; but everytime the king convinced himself that the man wasn't listening, he was surprised with the clever wit of an observation that couldn't be made out of disattention.

Somehow, the king had grown quite accustomed to the way mr. Holmes worked. After they had discussed the money involved — Dr. Watson's face, when the detective opened the chamois bag full of gold he'd received, had been absolutely remarkable — he was quickly escorted down the stairs and out the door by both of them. The mask was almost forgotten, but the doctor gave it back to him at the last minute.

“Then, goodnight, your Majesty, and I trust that we shall soon have some good news for you.” Mr. Holmes said as he opened the door. The brougham stood patiently for him at the side of the road, as it should; the king entered it as agile as he could, not to raise any opinions from the passersby.

“And we must have a good night, Watson,” was the last thing he heard from the pair. As for sight, mr. Holmes’ lips appeared to form a small smile as he looked dr. Watson from head to toe, whose hands went somewhere near the detective's waist as the door was closed shut.

He could not help but bear the impression that the pair held a deeper meaning behind the gazes and touches they'd shared so earnestly. Looking out the window and to the repetitive London landscape, he decided not to venture further into his poderings; he certainly did not wish to murk the image he had of the detective — nor the doctor’s — with such assumptions. Soot and ash from the city filled his nose as he let sleep take over his mind; now, he could only hope.

[zot3-flopped]

Two months prior to its release, would-be doyens of Swift’s Tortured Poets Department have taken its barbed track listing very literally, leading to intense, often nefarious speculation regarding Swift’s six-year relationship with the British actor Joe Alwyn, which seemingly ended in early 2023.

The album’s title, revealed onstage at the Grammy awards, was quickly linked to a December, 2022 interview with Alwyn and Paul Mescal in which they revealed that Andrew Scott started their group chat, the Tortured Man Club. (“It hasn’t had much use recently,” Alwyn said: you wonder if it’s undergone a recent revival.) Swift revealed the leading track list a day later: My Boy Only Breaks His Favorite Toys, So Long, London, I Can Do It With a Broken Heart, The Smallest Man Who Ever Lived, to name a few, sending fans wild with speculation.

Swift, obviously, has every right to sing about her relationships however she wants to (no apologies to Eamonn Holmes). But in the absence of any music, some fans have spread baseless, dangerous and even libellous allegations about Alwyn’s conduct (which, for obvious reasons, I can’t repeat).

Last month, a brief fan-shot video of them dining in a New Orleans restaurant in December, 2022 was recirculated online with AI-doctored audio that made it sound as though Alwyn is saying “you don’t get to tell me about sad,” a line printed on the back of one of the new album’s four physical editions.

When Swift recently told a crowd that she was “lonely” when writing her 2020 album Folklore – some of which was co-written with Alwyn during the pandemic, a lonely time for most – fans took that as further confirmation of their theories. A live medley of three songs that all appear to reference cheating threw petrol on the fire.

Swift could make this stop. She is no stranger to airing her displeasure with the likes of Ticketmaster, Scooter Braun, Spotify and Apple Music, and, occasionally, politicians. Before she released Speak Now (Taylor’s Version) last year, she gave a veiled speech at one Eras tour date effectively asking fans not to go after John Mayer, whom she dated when she was 19 and he was 32 and is understood to be the subject of that album’s Dear John.

“I am not putting this album out so you should feel the need to defend me on the internet against someone you think I wrote a song about 14m years ago when I was 19,” she said in Minneapolis.

But for whatever reason – and obviously, no member of the public has any idea what transpired between her and Alwyn so far – this time she has opted to stay quiet.

Establishing a baseline for conduct is neither commercially risky nor unprecedented: just last week, Ariana Grande said, after the release of her post-divorce album Eternal Sunshine: “Anyone that is sending hateful messages to the people in my life based on your interpretation of this album is not supporting me and is absolutely doing the polar opposite of what I would ever encourage”.

It feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far. Swift’s gestures towards meaning have led every single thing she does to be considered a kind of marketing, a clue to be solved. It leaves a superstar who’s usually hot on her messaging open to misinterpretation: hints about her personal life are turned by some fans into witch-hunts for anyone perceived to have wronged her; her current silence on politics allows politicians to invoke her name, from the New South Wales police commissioner quoting Swift’s anti-haters lines while defending police to Joe Biden joking that the matter of her apparently much sought-after endorsement is “classified” on Late Night With Seth Meyers.

When Swift made a blandly neutral handwritten post encouraging US citizens to register to vote on Super Tuesday, some fans speculated that her unusual left-leaning handwriting was the real indication of her loyalties – suggesting they’re so starved of substance that they’re reading into empty messages because of this dynamic she has established. (The more likely explanation is the insane way she holds a pen.)

For Swift to only direct fans as to her wishes when it suits her, it weakens her status as a truth-teller. If the comparisons with Dickinson mean anything, she might remember that nothing in the world has as much power as a word feels like the endgame of a cat-and-mouse act that’s gone too far.

[maximsdeadwife]

Soft Sherlock Headcanons

Sherlock Holmes x reader fluff and comfort

Masterlist

Authors notes: I’ve been a Sherlock Holmes fan for years upon years, but this is the first time I’ve written him. It’s written with any Sherlock in mind but I’ve been particularly taken with Henry Cavill recently

Warnings: mildly sexually suggestive at the end, tobacco mention

Sherlock kisses you with fierce passion when he gets a spark of inspiration and is momentarily excited about a breakthrough in a case. He’s vanished the next moment, already ten steps ahead of where he was a moment ago, but his soft lips and the traces of his strong hands gripping your cheeks leaves your head spinning

When he’s struggling with a piece of the puzzle, he needs you just as much. Although he often requires silence in these moments, solitude isn’t always preferable. He will occasionally pull you to him and guide you to lay on his chest in complete silence, the pattern of your breathing and the weight of you against him soothing him endlessly as his mind works overtime

Melts when you make notes on his ramblings so he can revisit thoughts he would have otherwise discarded. You know this because his mouth fleetingly curls into a smile and he exhales slowly before resuming his usual pace

You’ll catch him watching you on occasion, when he’s supposed to be breaking some code or other and you think he’s still working on it, but actually he finished with that half an hour ago and, curiosity sated, has been gazing at you lovingly since

Nuzzles into your neck when he actually makes it to bed, your warmth and scent calming him immeasurably. He never realises how touch starved he is until his mind isn’t occupied with riddles and mysteries and your body feels so soft against his

His scent varies depending on where he’s been investigating, which tobacco he’s used, what he’s experimented with in his makeshift lab, and whether he’s been dressing in disguise. But there are always staple scents underpinning his aroma; white musk, honey and something smoky with a slightly bitter twist of ink

When he’s bored, he will find ways to occupy himself with you whilst trying his hardest not to appear needy. It always fails, however, and usually ends up with you both tangled together on the little sofa, whispering sweet nothings, giggling and kissing like lovesick teenagers

When he’s feeling sentimental, he calls you his Little Problem, because despite being far from problematic to him, he’s endlessly fascinated with you

Never believes you when you tell him he’s handsome, particularly when he’s been wearing pyjamas for three days and hasn’t bothered to comb his hair, but your extra little touches and kisses go a long way to convincing him that at least you believe it to be true

When he’s finding a social situation tricky, he surreptitiously grasps your hand in his. No one else can see, but the reassurance of your fingers squeezing his back makes his breath even out and his heart slow down

Adores the tender moments of domesticity that you share. They’re all too rare with his erratic schedule, but you bring him tea in a morning when he doesn’t want to get out of bed, or lovingly help him dress with gentle fingers carefully buttoning up his shirt, or smooth his hair down with a smile at his soft, natural curls, and he practically swoons

Always having being a fan of A Touch of The Dramatic™, he’s a hopeless romantic when he has the energy to pour into spoiling you, pulling out all the stops to make you feel special and loved. He knows that his work can make you feel lonely sometimes, so he likes to balance that out when he can with his attention solely focussed on you for a while

After a particularly taxing case, he loves nothing more than to hibernate with you. It starts with a hot bath, laying together in the silky water for hours as blissful silence washes over him, counteracting the overload of his previously racing mind

When he gathers enough energy, he whispers in a low grumble, ‘I’ll always come back to you, darling. You know that, don’t you? No matter where a case takes me, I’ll always return.’

Then, if you encourage him, he will join you for a meal before bed, where he can finally sleep soundly, relaxed in your arms — but not before spending a few more hours relishing in your touch (and your reaction to his)

[oldtvandcomics]

Pulptober 2024: 26 - Not Like We Remember

"It's inevitable that, through the adaptation process and the passage of time, people's ideas of what a character is changes. This is for characters where this is...particularly drastic such that the way people envision them is often radically different from how they were originally." - Original prompt by @krinsbez

I have A LOT of thoughts about this, so I'm going to change my usual pattern of going for a character and write an essay instead.

TL;DR: In my experience, one could argue that this is true for all stories that have gone through some adaptations. At least it is in the minds of the general population. Fans who are invested enough to watch/read the original might be a little different, depending on which character you're talking about.

Many fans have pointed out fandoms' bad tendency to simplify and occasionally twist characters in order to fit them into neat narrative boxes, and the way that this hurts fanworks, because they now fail to interact with any of the things that made said character unique to begin with. What I would like to propose:

Mainstream adaptations and popular perception of a story do this too.

Trends that I have observed to happen during adaptations:

All clever characters -> insufferable genius who is full of themselves and keeps rubbing this into everyone's face (Sherlock Holmes; the Doctor, occasionally)

The one woman important for the story -> the hero's love interest, if he didn't originally have one (Irene Adler; Lenore "Casey" Case; Lieutenant Uhura*; Dan Reid Sr.'s wife (who also appears to have changed her first name from Linda to Rebecca in the process? *The 2008 Star Trek movie is ALSO guilty of erasing two out of the three important female officers, leaving only Uhura. If you were to give Spock a love interest, why didn't you stick with Nurse Chapel?! But those movies are a rant for another time.)

"Cool" male hero -> Insufferable asshole who thinks that he is cooler and better than anyone else and treats women like assets to get across how cool he is (Captain Kirk; Han Solo too, at least I personally would argue so)

White hero + partner who is a person of color, both more or less equally competent -> White guy is a complete idiot who wouldn't be able to keep himself alive + partner is insanely competent and does the work for both of them without receiving any thanks (The Lone Ranger + Tonto; The Green Hornet + Kato)

Any period typical prejudices that might have been present in the original get amplified by ten (The Green Hornet; The Lone Ranger; Sherlock Holmes; the First Doctor)

Two very close male friends -> They hate / barely tolerate each other (The Lone Ranger + Tonto; The Green Hornet + Kato; Kirk and Spock (!!); Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson)

Any woman in a leading position -> Girl with a sword and very 21st century attitude (Nimue that one time; Not sure how much Enola Holmes counts because she is an original character, but....)

Woman who is NOT in a leading position but doing her thing -> Screaming damsel in distress (Susan Foreman; Lois Lane in the minds of those who don't actually consume these stories)

There are absolutely more, these are just the most obvious ones that are bothering me. My general attitude towards older stories is to approach them with the best possible intention, and try to read past any outdated language and tropes. There is SO MUCH beauty and diversity there if you do that! But I really have the impression that the people making these adaptations don't always approach the original with the same good faith, if they really read/watch/listen to these stories at all. And then there is of course the inevitable game of telephone between people who know the original and understand the cultural context it was made in, people who know the original but don't understand the context, and people who only know the original through pop culture osmosis.

IDK, the only solution I see is to drastically shorten copyright, so that the people who get to retell these stories are the ones who actually love them, and of course to give Hollywood writers the time and resources to actually do their research. None of which I see happening.

[mariana-oconnor]

The Disappearance of Lady Frances Carfax pt 1

Well, that title is a little different from the usual ones.

“The bath!” he said; “the bath! Why the relaxing and expensive Turkish rather than the invigorating home-made article?”

So Watson has been to the Turkish baths? As part of a 'alternative' lifestyle. Right. Got it. Okay then.

Nice to have an introduction of Holmes teasing Watson with deductions about him.

“One of the most dangerous classes in the world,” said he, “is the drifting and friendless woman. She is the most harmless and often the most useful of mortals, but she is the inevitable inciter of crime in others."

I'd like to congratulate Holmes here on giving such an incredible example of victim blaming. Just, beautifully done. Pure, unsullied victim blaming. And in such a way that it blames all single female victims. Bravo.

"There is one correspondent who is a sure draw, Watson. That is the bank. Single ladies must live, and their passbooks are compressed diaries."

I assume that this is specifically vs married ladies who would not have to handle their own money, but the way it's phrased does make me chuckle. Because no one else must live except Single ladies, and no one else uses banks.

"Besides, on general principles it is best that I should not leave the country. Scotland Yard feels lonely without me, and it causes an unhealthy excitement among the criminal classes."

Lestrade when Sherlock goes away.

So Holmes is just sending Watson on holiday? Is this just because Watson's feeling rheumatic and old? Is there even a case? Historically, though, Watson has never done all too well on his own - at least according to Holmes. He usually misses every piece of information Holmes would like him to get.

Marie Devine, the maid, was as popular as her mistress. She was actually engaged to one of the head waiters in the hotel...

That explains the money given to her, then.

He connected the sudden departure with the visit to the hotel a day or two before of a tall, dark, bearded man. “Un sauvage—un véritable sauvage!” cried Jules Vibart.

Do we have anyone else's word about this other than the maid and her waiter's?

Only one thing Jules would not discuss. That was the reason why Marie had left her mistress.

So it... wasn't to marry him? That seems like a reason to me, but I don't really know, I suppose. I would have assumed she just left because she wanted to get married to someone who loved in Lausanne. It would definitely be easier if she didn't have to leave Lausanne whenever Lady Frances wanted.

While there she had made the acquaintance of a Dr. Shlessinger and his wife, a missionary from South America. Like most lonely ladies, Lady Frances found her comfort and occupation in religion. Dr. Shlessinger's remarkable personality, his whole hearted devotion, and the fact that he was recovering from a disease contracted in the exercise of his apostolic duties affected her deeply. She had helped Mrs. Shlessinger in the nursing of the convalescent saint.

These people seem suspicious. But I can't say why. Maybe just because they seem too religious to be true. A disease contracted in the exercise of his duties? It just kind of feels like a scam to me. Maybe I'm wrong.

“None; but he was an Englishman, though of an unusual type.” “A savage?” said I, linking my facts after the fashion of my illustrious friend.

I mean... objection: leading the witness springs to mind. Don't give a person a description, ask them for a description, Watson.

Already the mystery began to define itself, as figures grow clearer with the lifting of a fog.

I'm pretty sure you're just creating a whole new smoke cloud to add to the fog so you can see even less, but sure.

I'm not 100% convinced this savage wasn't Holmes himself in disguise, but I am a very suspicious person.

In reply I had a telegram asking for a description of Dr. Shlessinger's left ear. Holmes's ideas of humour are strange and occasionally offensive, so I took no notice of his ill-timed jest...

I don't think that was a joke, Watson. I think he actually wanted to know about the guy's ear.

“You are an Englishman,” I said. “What if I am?” he asked with a most villainous scowl. “May I ask what your name is?” “No, you may not,” said he with decision. The situation was awkward, but the most direct way is often the best.

You've already been fairly direct, Watson. Running up to a random person and declaring their nationality without even stopping to say bonjour is kind of rude.

And now you're getting attacked.

“Well, Watson,” said he, “a very pretty hash you have made of it! I rather think you had better come back with me to London by the night express.”

I mean, I hate to say I told you so, Watson but I really did tell you so. Holmes, why do you let Watson go unsupervised when he never manages to do what you want? I know Lestrade would pine without you, but I'm sure he could cope for a few weeks. Probably.

Current theory is that Holmes only sent Watson so he could get some fresh Alpine air. As to what happened to Lady Frances, I have no idea. But I think maybe the 'savage' is on her side, not against her.

[amewinterswriting]

Writing Patterns Tag Game

Thanks for the tag @late-to-the-fandom! I've also never done this one before, but variety is spice and I (occasionally) aim to be spicy. The rules are to list the first line(s) of your last 10 fics and see if there's a pattern, so I'm going to be going between fanfic and original fic a bit.

Tagging: @by-allison-kai, @winterandwords, @author-a-holmes, @authoralexharvey, @ahordeofwasps, @tailoroffates and @sam-glade

Magic's Servant (original novel)

Desidero hated these little gatherings. In theory, they were to foster positive connections between reapers - those who should have died long ago and only lived because they were foolish enough to take a demon bargain. In practice, they were an excellent way for said demons to keep a close eye upon their investment.

Two Lefts (original short)

No one ever claimed it would be easy. Yet, as Chwith crept further down the dark hallways, she couldn't help but think that her task had been going ridiculously smoothly.

The Landlady (original novella)

Scarlett opened the cupboard doors for the fifth time. As she had expected, nothing new had materialised in the last hour. All that lay within were a few lonely packets of instant noodle flavouring, a can of pinto beans and a jar with a thin smear of solidified honey in the bottom. The fridge was a similar story, except a couple of the fresh vegetables she had once been ambitious enough to buy were now creating new civilisations of fungal inhabitants.

An Arrangement (original short)

The Otherworld was rather an exclusive bar in Camden, hidden to most. It's clientèle were predominantly non-humans, all of whom agreed to a strict non-violence pact at the door, so here it was not uncommon to see demons brushing shoulders with angels, different packs of werewolves huddled together in their close groups or Fae practicing their charms upon specters.

Doctor (original short)

Pearly white teeth stretched out in a soundless scream. The man's – the subject's – dark hair stuck in strands to his damp forehead. His eyes screwed tightly shut as though it would shut out the pain.

A Ravenwatch Party (Elder Scrolls Online fanfiction)

Tamriel had been quiet for many long months. Since the troubles at Markarth, barely a whisper of danger or strife had reached Arianne. She was trying to take advantage of the quiet while it lasted, resting in her comfortably cozy home in Fell’s Run, yet she found the sudden peace hard to get fully accustomed to.

A Single Light (RWBY fanfiction)

Snow covered the ground everywhere metal shards did not. Fires claimed some of the oily wreckage, whipped into a steady blaze by the winds howling across the tundra. Shouts were swallowed by the gale and uniformed men and women ran across the site.

In the midst of this chaos, a woman struggled her way out from a pile of debris, hauling herself inch by agonizing inch across twisted and sharp fragments digging into her skin. Her hands were numb and aching by the time she fell into clear snow, but shakily, she pushed herself up onto her knees.

You Don't Know Me (Final Fantasy IX fanfiction)

The rain always fell heavy over Burmecia. That one constant had never changed, even as repairs transformed the ruins to a tentatively recovering city. New additions had sprung up; memorials and statues, celebrations of those who had saved the nation alongside reminders of just how much had been lost. Freya wondered exactly which purpose the statue of Fratley was meant to serve.

Heart to Heart to Heart (Final Fantasy XIII series fanfiction)

Noel's first impression of Snow left much to be desired. From hearing Serah and her friends talk, he had gained the impression that Snow was kind and generous and a little brash but good-hearted with it. Yet the Snow he had met was reckless, rushing into danger half-cocked. It was selfish, treating his own well-being with such disregard. He had left Serah behind with promises that he had no ability to keep and threw himself headlong into mortal peril. If he had died out here, flung far forward from his own relative time, how would the Serah he believed was safe at home ever get word of his death? It was selfish and cruel, to just let her keep on waiting and hoping for Snow's safe return, never hearing news of her fiancé.

The Purifier (Tales of Zesteria fanfiction)

It was reasonably common for seraphs to spend their first hundred years without discovering their true name. It was somewhat rarer to be two hundred years old and still not know their true name. It was downright embarrassing to be three hundred years old and nameless. Lailah was a significant amount older than that - though naturally, she would never divulge exactly how much older - and her own name was still a mystery to her. 

I do tend to shove characters in at the deep end, huh? Get straight into the meat of the story as quickly as possible, usually highlighting a negative aspect of the plot that needs to be solved over the course of the tale. The only one that doesn't is 'The Arrangement' - that sets the location first and the 'plot' comes in through the next few paragraphs.

[anotherlesbiandad]

okay fuck it it's about time i make a pinned post

what you'll find on this blog:

- a Lot of reblogs for various fandoms. these fandoms include (but are not limited to) community, supernatural, dc comics, percy jackson/hoo, buffy the vampire slayer, firefly, seinfeld, project hail mary, the hunger games, sherlock holmes (mostly acd canon but the occasional bbc post), doctor who, marauders, zigverse!marauders (of which i am the founder), teenage mutant ninja turtles, and okay jesus the list is gonna keep going if i let it

- discussion of classic literature and mythology (mostly greco-roman) when i feel like it. please send me asks about this if you want to become my best friend

- poor formatting

- the occasional fic or fic rec

- reblog bait and ask games cause i'm lonely and want to feel connected to something

- a lot of random ass thoughts, mostly to do with something above or my mental issues

those of you who have been following me for a while probably know about zigverse, and when i make a zigverse master post (eventually) i'll link it here.

if you're here from one of my poetry sideblogs please i am begging you to be sworn to secrecy about what i write over there. i'm working off of the honor system here

i used to draw over on this account, but have since deleted like all of my fanart. from here. it still exists on my art sideblog, but i'm not comfortable linking it here, so you'll just have to trust me that you might see it at some point

DNI LIST: honestly just like. don't be a dick? if you're following me and you're a dick to me then i'm gonna block you, but other than that have at it.

except for you wincesties.

okay that's pretty much it idk bye

[inevitably-johnlocked]

i am def interested in coma fics, specifically ones where john is in a coma 👀

Hello Lovely!

Whee! I'm excited to share this long-awaited list with you! I've not many of my own recs, so I did a quick tag-search on my MFL list, so I added those as well. Hope y'all enjoy, and as always, friends, add any that you may have!

COMAS

See also:

Hospital Fics

Hospitals Pt 2

Giveaway Fic #9 - Angsty Sick Fic/Sherlock is Sick by ConsultingPurplePants (T, 1,734 w., 1 Ch. || Sick Fic, Hypothermia) – The next time he awakens is even more chaotic. Two doctors are shouting at each other in the corner, and John is holding his hand so tightly Sherlock is worried he’ll break it. Part 9 of 1000 Tumblr Followers Giveaway Fics

A Room of One's Own by whitchry9 (K+, 2,174 w., 5 Ch. || S2 Timeline, Hurt/Comfort, Supernatural, Sherlock’s Mind Palace, Coma, John Whump, Worried Sherlock, POV John, Angst, Friendship/Bromance, Hospital) – When a severe head injury lands John in a coma, somehow he ends up in Sherlock's mind palace. It's actually pretty nice there, and John is entertaining the notion of staying there, rather than returning to his broken body. But Sherlock isn't taking it as well, and John can feel him breaking around him.

The Deafening Silence by occasionally-maybe-never (T, 2,238 w., 1 Ch. || Angst, Major Character Death, Post-TRF) – 'Sherlock hopes fiercely that John can hear him, as sometimes coma patients can. He knows that John will understand, that his admission of love isn't a grand, sweeping romantic statement, but simply an expression of truth.' When Mycroft retrieves Sherlock to bring him home, it's not to John having dinner, but to John on his death bed.

As You Wish by PipMer (K, 3,311 w., 1 Ch. || Bromance/Pre-Slash/Epic Friendship, Hurt/Comfort, John Whump, Hospitals) – When John woke from his coma, he wasn't at all surprised to see the wrong Holmes brother sitting at his bedside. Disappointed, but not surprised. 

I See You Through by belovedmuerto (T, 12,078 w., 8 Ch. || Psychic AU || Empath John, Alternate TGG, Whump, Nightmares, Bedsharing, Slow Burn, Pre-Slash) – John has never asked Sherlock about his past, his childhood, the reason he quails in lonely misery almost every time he sees his brother. He’s never needed to. Part 2 of An Experiment in Empathy

I Think I've Come A Long Long Way To Sit Before You Here Today by ArwenKenobi (T, 18,251 w., 3 Ch. || Grief/Mourning, Passage of Time, Major Character Death, Alternating POV, Sherlock Whump, Pining Sherlock, Hospitalization, Coma, Revenge Murders, Hallucinations, Love Confessions, Brutal Accident, Mystrade, Ghost John) – One year after John is killed Sherlock starts to wonder whether John has actually gone anywhere.

Rupert Street by WritingOutLoud (M, 27,262 w., 9 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Case Fic, Sexuality, Demisexual Sherlock, Drugging, Smart John, Sherlock Has Internalized Biphobia, Fluff, Angst with Happy Ending, Gay Bar, Flirting, John Manipulates Sherlock to Eat, John Deduces, Arguments, Kidnapping/Torture, Hospitalization, John Whump) – Discharged from the war with nothing but the clothes on his back and a realisation of his bisexuality, John Watson has to learn who he’s become. He can’t afford London on an army pension, but the city is the only friend he has. In an effort to understand his newfound queer identity, he heads to a bar one night, where he stumbles across a mysterious stranger who turns his life upside down. ‘I dug around inside myself, and I'm not quite sure what I found, but it was beautiful and terrifying all at the same time.’

The Wisteria Tree by SilentAuror(E, 29,773 w., 1 Ch. || Post-S3, Emotional Love Making, Amnesia/Memory Loss, Sherlock Loves John So Much, Sherlock POV, Romance, Angst with Happy Ending, First Times, Hurt/Comfort, Est. Rel., Retirement) – Sherlock wakes up from a month-long coma only to discover that he has no memory of the previous six years to his own shock as well as John's...

Repairing the Broken Things by BakerTumblings (M, 75,252 w., 15 Ch. || S4 Compliant, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Trauma, Hospitals, Big Brother Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Realizations, Severe Accident, John Whump, Pneumonia, Medical Procedures, Bed Sharing, First Time, Healing, Happy Ending) – "I'm calling today to notify you that there's been an accident."

Being John Watson-ish by elwinglyre (E, 69,902 w., 17 Ch. || Bodysnatcher AU || Author John, Cranky Sherlock, Angst, Sexual Tension, First Kiss / Time, Falling in Love, BAMF John, Past Soldier John, Feelings, Inside Someone’s Brain, Shy Sherlock, Sherlock Loves John, POV Sherlock, Switchlock, Slow Burn, Internal Dialogue, Mental Turmoil) – When consulting detective Sherlock Holmes steps on one toe too many at a crime scene, he's consigned to a desk job in an archaic office on the seventh-and-a-half floor of the New Scotland Yard. It’s in this bleak office that Sherlock discovers a portal into the mind of renowned author John Watson. Grander than his mind palace, this new wonderland affords Sherlock new vistas of experimentation. To learn more about the mystery behind the portal, Sherlock seeks out and befriends Watson. But then it all goes wrong when others find the secret portal door—including the man whose brain he visits.

The Lost Special: Family Matters (As Do Relationships) by  ShirleyCarlton (M, 144,688 w., 40 Ch. || S4 Fix It Fic / Meta Fic, Unreliable Narrator, John’s Mind Bungalow, Friends to Lovers, Happy Ending, Demisexual Sherlock, Holmes Family, John Whump, Gay Mycroft, Misunderstandings, Drug Addiction, Parenting, TFP is a Nightmare, Virgin Sherlock, Slow Burn, Minor Character Death, Switchlock, John’s Past, Sherlock’s Past, Eurus, Love Confessions) –Sherrinford is not really the name of some high security prison. That was just a figment of John’s frantic coma dream. And Eurus is not actually Sherlock’s sister. That’s just something random she said to John before shooting him. Sherlock and John were never actually estranged. That was just their act to cover up what really happened to Mary – or Rosamund Moran, as her real name has turned out to be. Sherlock does have a secret sibling, though, and his name is Sherrinford. After finally eliminating Moran – though in a rather dramatically different way than they had envisioned – and exposing the truth about Eurus, John encourages Sherlock to delve into his past and to find out whether the reasons to keep Sherrinford away from Sherlock were the right ones, and to discover what really happened in 1981. Along the way, Sherlock and John gradually, finally, stop keeping each other at a distance, and eventually become a proper family of their own.

MARKED FOR LATER

Awake by greymantledlady (G, 2,178 w., 1 Ch. || Pilotverse || UAP ASiP Fix It, Dreams and Nightmares, Dreams vs. Reality, Hospital Love Confessions, Getting Together, Awkward John, Coma Dream, Sick Fic) – Pilotverse fix-it in which Sherlock is initially in a coma and the events of S1-4 are a kind of lucid dream. Also, hospital confessions, clearing the air, soft pilotverse Sherlock and John, and John Not Hitting Sherlock.

Fugue (n.) by reyiosa (NR [G], 3,281 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate Universe || Post-TRF, Hospital, Hallucinations, Coma, Hurt/Comfort, Angst, It Was All A Dream) – A Sherlock AU were it turns out Sherlock has made up his whole life with John as a consulting detective while stuck in a coma caused by an overdose. The real John is just a kind doctor at the hospital that sits by Sherlock’s bed and reads him detective stories.

The A.G.R.A. Complex by SilentAuror (E, 19,563 w., 1 Ch. || Freebatch RPF || Brain Injury, Reality/Sherlock Crossover, Altered Perceptions, Angst, Motorcycle Accident, Sherlock is a Coma-Dream, Martin POV) – Martin Freeman wakes from a brief coma during which he dreamed the entire Sherlock series. As he recovers from his brain injuries, he has trouble distinguishing between reality and the Sherlock universe in his dream. This impacts his relationships with both Amanda, whom he cannot stop seeing as A.G.R.A., and his friend and sometime colleague Benedict, who is Sherlock to his John. Part 1 of The A.G.R.A. Complex

Whenever it's right (AKA First Date) by Aliea (M, 26,493 w., 15/? Ch. || WiP || London Underground, Explosions, Doctor John, Sherlock Whump, Angst, Hospitals, Mind Palace John, Coma, Past Drug Use, Big Brother Mycroft) – Meeting the person you have been searching for all your life, never knowing that you have been searching until its over and you have them before you. What happens when you fall in love at first sight then everything goes to hell? Do you stay or go, take the risk or run for the hills. John has has never ran from anything, so he wasnt going to run from the man that changed his life in less than five seconds.

Where The Ghosts Have Voices by HappyJuicyfruit (M, 37,691 w., 12 Ch. || Supernatural AU || Ghosts, Magical Realism, Light Horror, Fluff and Smut, John Can See Ghosts, John Whump, Emotional Manipulation, Dark Magic, Coma, Injury Recovery, Blow Jobs, Anal, Happy Ending, John’s Past, Mr Holmes, Powerful John, Holmes Brothers, Sherlock’s Past, Past Viclock, Drug Abuse, Hair Pulling) – John has lived his whole life as an outcast. It is only when he meets Sherlock, that be realizes being a freak might not be such a bad thing, and that the curse he has lived with his whole life may be a gift after all.

Having Your Cake by SilentAuror (E, 44,615 w., 1 Ch. || Freebatch RPF || POV Martin, Open Infidelity, HLV/TAB Filming, Jealousy, Angst, Drama, Hotel Sex, Twitter) – Set four years after Martin's temporary brain injury that caused his universe to shift between reality and his coma dream of the Sherlock universe, Martin's history with Benedict comes back to haunt them both as they attempt to make sense of the relationship between their characters during the filming of His Last Vow. They are forced to face the question of whether they're interpreting the scripts objectively or are biased because of their personal history. As Martin deals with the difficulty of separating real life from fiction, he also has to make a decision that will affect the rest of his life as he knows it. Part 2 of The A.G.R.A. Complex

NO! by Tildathings (M, 50,043 w., 36 Ch. || Homophobia, Bed Sharing, Military Uniforms, Past Abuse, Jealous John, Stalking, Violence, First Kiss/Time, Fluff, Pillow Talk, Coming Out, Sherlock’s Past, Shower, Cuddling, Grief and Sorrow, Hugs, Character Death) – Sherlock has been in a coma in over 8 months after he overdosed on the plane at TAB, during which time Mary and Rosie were killed by Vivian Norbury.  This story starts 3 weeks after Sherlock has woken up. John is asking to move back to Baker Street.

In Absentia by SeaweedWrites (T, 79,273 w., 39 Ch. || TRF Divergence, Major Character Injury, Hurt/Comfort, Medical Realism, Car Accident, Traumatic Brain Injury, Hospital, Sherlock in a Coma, Physical/Psychological Rehab, Sensory Issues, Heavy Angst, Drama, Sherlock Whump, Biog Brother Mycroft, Depression, Nightmares, Panic Attacks) – Sherlock sends John a mysterious text. While John waits for Sherlock to come back to 221B to explain, Sherlock is involved in a terrible car crash, and everyone's lives are irrecoverably changed. Will Sherlock survive? And the bigger question for John- If he does survive, will he ever be the same? Part 1 of the��In Absentia Fics and Information

Out There by DiscordantWords (T, 131,695 w., 10 Ch. || X-Files Fusion || Slow Burn, UST, Case Fic, Government Conspiracy, Aliens, UFOs, Mutants, Mutual Pining, First Kiss, Coma) – FBI Special Agent John Watson, medical doctor and army veteran, is assigned to assist eccentric genius Sherlock Holmes with paranormal investigations on the X-Files project.

[themirokai]

Twenty Questions for Fic Writers

Tagged in this by the incredible @pellaaearien . Thank you so much, dear! I really did start working on it when you tagged me and have picked away at it ever since. It’s quite long!

1. How many works do you have on Ao3?

49

2. What's your total Ao3 word count?

122,560. I write short things.

3. What fandoms do you write for?

In chronological order I have written:

BBC Sherlock- Mystrade only

James Bond

Doctor Who

Star Wars

Person of Interest

Arcane

Cats the Musical

Sandman

In theory I’m open to writing in any of those again and any others as the inspiration strikes.

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

5 - Worship (Sandman, Dreamling), also received the comment that inspired my first tumblr post to breach containment.

4 - Who He Is (Mystrade), my first fic on ao3 besides the ones I moved to the Other Account. I’m a bit surprised by this honestly. It’s got age on its side but my writing has improved a lot since then. It reads as a bit clunky to me now.

3 - Loverboy (Sandman, Dreamling + Matthew the Emotional Support Raven), first time I brought my 2 Sandman series together and my first multi chap Sandman fic.

2 - The Century Gentleman (Sandman, Dreamling), I got this written and posted pretty soon after the show aired when there was a massive demand for Dreamling content and before there was a tidal wave of content to meet the demand. I have mixed feelings about it now.

1 - Sort It (James Bond & Sherlock crossover, 00Q + Mystrade), fills the niche of “Q is a Holmes brother” + fluffy Mystrade. I do still really love this story.

5. Do you respond to comments?

My rule is that I do. And I’ve generally been very diligent about it. But I burnt out a little while writing Grave and I currently have an embarrassing number of unread comments in my ao3 inbox that I keep telling myself that I need to respond to…

So if folks have commented on my stuff in the last month or so, I’m very sorry I haven’t responded.

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

Sequenced Proposals. No contest. Look, the character is terminally ill in canon and it’s a lawyer AU so it wasn’t going to end with him becoming a cyborg. I cried a lot while writing it. Apparently a lot of people cried while reading it. Technically he’s still alive when the story ends.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

With the one notable exception discussed above I pretty much exclusively write warm, fluffy, occasionally funny stuff. They pretty much all end happily. I am a quokka of fan fiction.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

I haven’t! Someone called me a bitch in a Sequenced Proposals comment but even though we had never interacted before, they meant it positively.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind?

Not on this account. 😏

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

I’ve written 2: Sort It, as mentioned above, and Dreaming of Leverage, which is a Sandman & Leverage crossover. I’d say the latter is crazier.

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge.

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Nooooo. And I can’t see ever doing it. Writing is very much a solo activity for me.

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

I can’t pick a favorite. I adore every ship I’ve written.

15. What's a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

I will probably not finish Law School Days. I know how the story ends and that’s good enough for me and no one was clamoring for it. I still like to think I’ll finish Lonely Two-Legged Creatures some day.

16. What are your writing strengths?

I’m good at dialogue, especially dialogue in which characters talk about their feeeeeelings. I guess I’m also good at emotional intelligence in stories. And creating the warm & fuzzies.

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

Plot and description. I almost exclusively write very short things because I am incapable of plot that would carry a longer story. Also, if I’m being honest, one of the things I like about writing fan fiction is that I don’t have to describe what anyone looks like or sounds like! Y’all know that already. But I do get the flop sweats if I have to describe someone wearing clothing that is not a t-shirt and jeans.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic?

I wish I could! More than 15 years ago I was basically conversational in Spanish, but now I’m functionally monolingual. I do appreciate when people who do this provide translations.

19. First fandom you wrote for?

As a kid, before I knew what fan fiction was, I wrote at least 100 pages of what was essentially OCs in Mercedes Lackey’s Valdemar. The first fandom I intentionally wrote and posted fic for was Mystrade.

20. Favourite fic you've written?

Can’t do this, sorry. There are some of my stories that no longer resonate with me the way they did when I wrote them, but they’re in the minority and of the rest it’s impossible to pick a favorite.

Phew! That was a lot. Whenever I tag people in these I always say no pressure but really and seriously this time there’s no pressure and you don’t need to tell me why you’re not doing it. Just ignore. ALSO, if you’ve already done it and I missed it, apologies! With that said @once-in-a-blue-moon-rising @lavenderandvanilla @ml-nolan @mashumaru @ibrithir-was-here @karalynlovescake @stormofsharpthings @argylepiratewd

[performativezippers]

I just saw a pic of a cat in a cute outfit (it was dressed a bit like Sherlock Holmes), and my mind immediately decided that Kai would absolutely show a high Lucy that picture to distract her. I haven't read Not a Laughing Matter in weeks, and all it took was one cute cat pic to make me immediately want to re-read it, which wouldn't be a big deal except I have at least half a dozen unread books mocking me and now I'm that meme of the guy looking back while my unread books are shocked/annoyed.

First of all, THANK YOU I am so flattered!!

Second of all, oh my goodness, Kai would 100% save this to show high Lucy!! Now I like thinking about him sending her the occasional cat meme while she’s afloat, presented 100% without commentary or context. Even though he’s a dog person, he can engage in cat lady solidarity because he misses her and she’s lonely.

[renegadewangs]

Heya folks! Usually, I avoid doing posts like this, but for this particular matter I figured I might as well. You see, I play Sherlock Holmes (Dai Gyakuten Saiban version) in a Dreamwidth RP game, and I am in search of a certain castmate. Or, well, several castmates, but one in particular. Anyone who knows me well enough should know which one it is.

Have I caught your interest? Then keep reading!

So let's start off by giving you some more info! The game I'm referring to is called Empatheias and as I already inferred, it can be found on Dreamwidth, which is a sort of journal page. If you remember Livejournal, Dreamwidth is basically that, minus the spambots and advertising. In order to join the game, one has to fill out an application and post it at the appropriate time of the month. Doing a 'test drive' thread in that month's meme beforehand is also highly encouraged. While there are many different games on DW, this one in particular is panfandom and what some might refer to as a 'jamjar'. Characters are mysteriously drawn to this world through powers unknown and as they can't get home of their own volition, they can only make the best of their situation so long they're stranded there. Because characters can be 'apped' from different time points in canon, the theory that always goes around is that when they're in this other world, time stands still for them in their own world. Or rather, when they eventually return home, they will be at the exact point in time when they left and retain no memories of the weird other world they were in. For that reason, they can do their best to just... chill and not freak out about that world-destroying monster or important murder investigation they just left behind. What's special about Empatheias is that the world (as well as the story we're building together) is influenced by a character's emotions. While you can find more information here, the short version is that emotions affect surroundings. If a character is happy, light might shine brighter or bubbles might float around them. If they're sad, it might rain above their head. If they're scared, a tiny localized earthquake... You may come up with these sorts of effects on your own and be as creative as you want. Emotions on a larger scale also affect the 'emotion deities' known as Arehtei and even the world itself, which has been mostly ruined by toxic negativity and, aside from several small civilizations, is pretty much dead. There's locals (NPCs) living in the cities, though! Player Characters have eventually become known as Otherworlders, which is an easy enough term to throw around. Characters can move between the civilizations, which all have slightly different technology and cultural traits because they were separated from each other for many years. Verens, the main city for arrival, is mostly steampunky in aesthetic and advancements. You can find more details about all the locations here! There's also monsters to fight, weird plants, occasionally ghosts... It's great fun! Also, there's a special telepathy network which allows for Player Characters to get in touch with one another. In the practical sense, it means any telepathy post is submitted to the network community. This allows for serious discussions and also for shenanigans, because who doesn't like someone talking in their head in the middle of the night, right? They can also meet up in person anywhere in the city, for which we mostly use the log community But you want to know more hands-on stuff, don't you? You want to hear stories, right? Well. Let's talk about my Holmes... Since the 6th of April, he's been in the game for two years already. When I originally applied him, his canon point was the end of the first game (because that's where canon halted back then). During that time, I made sure to be as ambiguous as possible about loose plot threads from the DGS series and boy, was I glad that I did. At the end of November last year, I 'canon updated' him to a very particular moment at the beginning of case 2-4. Yes, he returned to Empatheias with blue hair. It was great. His one steadfast castmate is Naruhodou, who was apped by my buddy Taisa at the same time as Holmes and has been his housemate ever since. Naruhodou's canon point is still the end of the first game at the moment. We were joined by an Asougi (Kazuma) at the start of December last year. Now, Asougi's canon point is spoilery and problematic. I'll just cough something about the end of case 3, here, DGS2 buffs will know what I mean. I could tell many a story, but instead of doing that, I'll just post some of his finest threads! It'll give a nice impression of what the RP is like. - Holmes's first arrival, many moons ago - That time there was an earthquake and instead of coming to Naruhodou's rescue, Holmes started an argument about turtle ducks. - That time he discussed Father's Day with Trucy Wright. - That time Naruhodou became a crystal statue and Holmes decided to take advantage of the free reign to assemble an advanced chemistry kit. (also there are kittens.) - That time Holmes was introduced to Trucy's magic panties. - That time he received a steampunky violin for his birthday - And here we have Caster from the Fate verse speaking very casually about that time she killed Sherlock Holmes in her own universe. - Holmes sends out a telepathic query about dancing lessons without paying attention to his phrasing. - And that time Holmed discussed slang with Maya Fey. Then also spirit channeling and the internet. - Sherlock returns from his canon update and there were DGS2 spoilers and feelings everywhere. - Asougi insists on confronting Holmes after arriving a week later, serving to complicate everything further. - The actual truth about the four names is deduced another week or so later. - Naruhodou goes to ask about Holmes's partner because he is getting suspicious about that whole thing. The matters of Gregson and Van Zieks also come up briefly. If you're interested in joining us, feel free to ask me questions on anything and everything! I can help with setting up an account on Dreamwidth and finding source materials for icons! Give us Susato, give us Iris, give us Van Zieks, give us Holmes's precious partner-- Give us anyone!~ Don't want to commit to a huge game but still interested in playing? There's such a thing as a 'musebox' where one can just play out really casual scenarios without being part of a grander community. It's also perfect for testing your RP merit if you don't feel up to a game's Test Drive post. Let me know and I can set something up on my own musebox! Here's a few more interesting links: - The index page with all important Empatheias info pages. - The FAQ page for Empatheias. - A shortened guide to DW RP. - An elaborate guide written specifically for Tumblr Rpers.

[teawaffles]

Forbidden Games: Chapter 3

From the end of the 18th century, gentlemen’s clubs had begun to proliferate rapidly in Britain. These were members-only social circles established by men of the gentry class [1] who shared common goals such as hobbies or research. At its peak, the area of London’s East End known as Clubland [2] was home to around 400 such establishments.

Normally, clubs have neither a doorplate nor signage. There was a rumour that one time, when a policeman became suspicious and entered a club, he found an archbishop, the president of a bank, and the prime minister all gathered there. The building that William and Sherlock had arrived at was no different, with a lone man standing at the entrance, and not a single item displayed that indicated what lay within.

Upon descending from the carriage, Sherlock gazed intently at the building, and spoke to William beside him.

“It’s a pretty big building, but this looks like the right address.”

“Indeed, the proof is in the fact that people are going in and out.”

Right at the corner of William’s sight was the figure of a gentleman who looked like he wanted to enter. He gave a slight bow to the doorman, then opened the door and went in.

Sherlock observed the sequence of events.

“They don’t seem too concerned about their surroundings when they enter.”

“True. Perhaps the club itself is not illegal in nature.”

“In other words, there may be people doing something illegal in there.”

The two men exchanged deductions as they drew nearer to the club. As expected, the apparent receptionist spoke up.

“Excuse me. Do you have business here…… Ah? You would be Durham University’s……”

As a nobleman and a young professor of mathematics, it looked like William was fairly well known around these parts.

William shrugged off his coat, doffed his top hat, and greeted the surprised man with a gentle smile.

“Good afternoon, I am William James Moriarty. I heard that this is a club where one may play certain games.”

At that, the man visibly relaxed and responded in a polite manner.

“Indeed it is you, Mr Moriarty, welcome. As you mentioned, this is a place where gentlemen with time to spare may gather, even when it is the middle of the day.”

William smiled at the man’s self-deprecating manner, and made a respectful enquiry.

“My companion and I have heard rumours about this place. However, could it be possible that we would be denied entry without an introduction from an existing member?”

“Not at all, there is no such rule. There is a token receptionist like myself for some reason, but in essence all newcomers are gladly welcome.”

“Including me?” Sherlock cut in, and the man nodded.

“That’s right, we have no qualms about that. I hope you don’t mind me asking your name?”

“I’m Sherlock Holmes.”

Upon hearing that name, the man blinked.

“Could it be, that Sherlock Holmes? I’m astonished that a man like you would also come to such a place……”

Perhaps the mathematics professor and famous detective made for an unusual duo. More surprised than one would expect, a wry smile rose to his face as Sherlock continued.

“Right. I just have a little something to investigate here.”

“An investigation, I see……”

In contrast to his manner with William, the man seemed shaken by the appearance of a detective. William calmly pounced on his suspicious behaviour.

“Could something be the matter?”

“Um, that’s, uh”

The man glanced toward the door as he tried to evade the question. But eventually he seemed to give up, and revealed the situation to them in a hushed voice.

“In a manner of speaking, this is indeed a place where one can enjoy a variety of ‘games’, however…… to liven up the playing field, money does change hands as well.”

“I see.”

From the man’s faltering voice, William could tell what was on his mind. Gentlemen who shed appearances and amused themselves with gambling, contrary to social expectations of dignity — this was not something one would wish to make public.

On top of that, a place where gambling has become the norm could easily become a hotbed of crime. It was likely that the doorman was stationed here to ascertain if new participants were connected with the police or other related parties, hence avoiding any unwanted attention. With Sherlock being a detective, this would also be the reason why he was shaken by Sherlock’s visit.

However, the two of them had ascertained that exchanges of money were taking place here. The question now was to what degree.

“Could it be, that the bets placed here are large enough to draw the attention of the Yard?”

The man waved the question away. “Nothing of the sort. They are really just small sums. One could see them as an entertainment fee.”

“An entertainment fee, I see……”

Sherlock murmured strangely, and watched the man’s movements with nonchalance. By layperson standards, even if it was just for fun, there was likely to be a good amount of money involved where nobles were concerned. But the man’s demeanour didn’t suggest that he was involved in anything illegal.

“Well, you won’t need to worry about that. I’m pursuing a different case here, and besides, I can agree that it’s more fun when money is involved.”

“That’s certainly reassuring to hear……”

For William, who had a close associate who was fond of gambling [3], this was a statement he couldn’t help but smile wryly at.

However, at present, his prediction that there was nothing wrong with the club itself was correct. Hence, they would need to see it in person.

“In any case, it should be fine for us to enter, yes?”

“Y-Yes, please be generous with your wagers……”

“So it’s okay then. Well, let’s get going.”

Sherlock immediately opened the door, with William following behind him.

The interior of the building was a large hall, with simple and subdued decor, and good-quality furnishings lined along the walls.

Wooden tables and chairs were spaced equally, and seated there were groups of gentlemen in formal attire, playing various card or poker games. Gold coins and stacks of bills could be seen scattered across the tables. Although the gentlemen maintained the dignity of their upper station, the occasional groans and cheers revealed their enthusiasm for the games.

The two men stood near the entrance, gazing at the players’ figures.

Looking at William, who was earnestly observing the situation to search for the missing young man, Sherlock made a somewhat envious expression.

“It sure looks fun. Since we came all the way here, I might join a game myself.”

“……Please don’t forget your original goal here,” William reminded him, looking troubled.

Just then, a stout man approached them, holding a glass filled with wine.

“Who might we have here? And on the young side too…… Ah, might you be the mathematics professor William Moriarty…… and your companion, the famous detective Sherlock Holmes?”

The man raised his voice, and a number of people in the vicinity turned to look at the duo. William kept a smile on his face, albeit a little awkwardly.

“Greetings….”

“Nice to meet you.”

Seeing how they had attracted attention so quickly, William spoke to Sherlock in a low voice.

“I would’ve honestly preferred to investigate more discreetly, but it sure is difficult when you’re known by name alone,” he scowled.

“Well, it’s the price of fame.”

After that somewhat sour exchange, William enquired after the man who spoke to them.

“It does seem that people who truly enjoy games are gathered here.”

“Indeed. These games have been brought by the players themselves. In fact, I’ve heard that games involving guns have become popular recently.”

“Guns?”

As the pair frowned at the unexpected word, the man continued, as if to explain himself.

“Please do not misunderstand. Of course, the games do not involve actual guns, but mere toys made to resemble the exact items themselves. One simply loads a bullet, decides the order in which he goes, and then—“

The man made the figure of a gun with his hand, and held it against his temple.

“One would pull the trigger on his own. The person who gets hit by the bullet loses. I believe this is a game that originated from Russia.”

“—Russian roulette, eh.” Sherlock murmured solemnly.

Even though the game was but an imitation, it was difficult to understand why these nobles would use such dangerous items.

However, the man proceeded to ignore the duo’s incredulous expressions, and pressed on with the topic.

“Although this game only became popular here a while ago, the company here got tired of it quite quickly. That’s why I’ve been trying to change various aspects of it on a trial-and-error basis. In fact just recently, based on a rumour I heard going around another social circle, I tried having three people use three different guns—“

“Ah…… It’s been kind of you to tell us all about this, but I’m afraid we’ll have to continue this some other time.”

Sherlock, somewhat disgusted, interrupted the man’s passionate speech and looked around the room.

“I’ve come here to look for someone.”

“I see.” The man seemed to change his mind and reacted distractedly.

“Yeah, it’s about a noble’s son……”

Then, Sherlock told him the missing young man’s name.

At that instant, William noticed that a gentleman in the vicinity had reacted vaguely to the name.

However, this wasn’t the first time it had happened. In truth, when Sherlock had entered the hall, a number of gentlemen had cast wary glances at him.

William memorised their faces as he spoke about the missing noble, casting a glance at Sherlock. The other man swiftly cast a glance back to him. Back then, Sherlock had knowingly used his fame as a detective to smoke out any suspicious characters as he entered the room.

Now all that was left was to determine the move their opponent would make.

The pair silently agreed on their next course of action. But before they had the chance to explore the movements of the people identified, a gentleman approached Sherlock.

“Could you be Mr Holmes?” he enquired.

He looked to be past forty, with a lithe figure that suited a swallow-tail coat, and a personable smile on his face. However, a cunning glint lurked in his narrow eyes.

Sherlock nodded and gave an affirmative grunt. Then the man put a hand to his chest and let out an exaggerated sigh.

“……Ohh, I simply can’t believe I’d be able to meet you in the flesh like this! Or rather, I think I’ve used up all the luck I had for today’s game.”

Saying that, he immediately straightened his posture.

“Apologies for my poor manners, I have yet to introduce myself. My name is Alan. I absolutely love exciting things that can even astonish people from the sidelines, and I’m a devoted reader of your thrilling adventures with Dr Watson.”

“Heh, I’m grateful you’re reading Doyle’s work [4]. I’m sure he would be pleased to hear that.”

“I’m deeply moved to be able to speak to you as a fan. By the way, I don’t mean to be rude, but it does appear to me that you are a little different from what’s been written in his works.”

He’d hit on a sore spot. Sherlock awkwardly scratched his cheek with his index finger.

“Ah—…… That would be due to the author’s focus on entertaining his readers. It seems he has somewhat glorified me. I suppose any differences between my image and myself are only for the worse, eh.”

“Not at all. In fact, from now on, when I read his works I’d love to imagine the real Sherlock Holmes instead.”

“Would you really enjoy that?”

As Sherlock chatted with the man who introduced himself as Alan, William made idle chatter with the man who spoke to them at first. He was carried away talking all about the Russian roulette from back then, and William nodded at the appropriate times as he observed the other gentlemen, who were gazing intently at Sherlock.

The cordiality of the conversation prevented Sherlock from bringing up the matter of the missing noble in a natural way. As such, his next move was fairly predictable.

“Well, I never thought I’d be able to have this much fun speaking with the detective I so admire.”

“If you’re that happy, then I’m happy for you too.”

“Fate’s a strange thing indeed…… By the way, Mr Holmes, would you happen to be interested in games?”

“Hmm? I did say earlier that I’m here on a different case…… but I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t interested. Since we might as well, why don’t you introduce me to an exciting one?”

“I see, I see. You would desire something exciting.”

Immediately, something in Alan’s smile had changed. He covered his mouth with a hand as he whispered to Sherlock.

“It is true that many of the games here provide a change of pace, but my friends and I have grown completely bored with them. Hence we are in fact playing a secret, thrilling game at another location.”

“Hmm. A thrilling game, eh.”

Sherlock put on a conspicuous smile. Alan, reading it as an expression of interest, gestured to William.

“How would your companion like to join us? As long as we do so in secret, so the company here remains unaware.”

“……Sounds like fun,” Sherlock replied.

He called out to William. “Oi, Liam. Have a moment?”

“What’s the matter?”

William turned to Sherlock, having missed their conversation as he was chatting with someone else — or so it appeared.

“Alan here wants to go somewhere else to talk. Care to join us?”

Alan smiled. It was a friendly expression, as if he were the master of a house greeting guests as they entered, but William saw the true nature behind it.

——It was the look of a hunter who had just caught his prey in a net.

William readily understood the situation.

“I see. Allow me to accompany you both, then.”

He apologised to the man he was conversing with, and left the hall with Sherlock.

Footnotes:

[1] The class of people right below the nobility, considered to be of good social position (Wikipedia)

[2] Located in the St. James’s area of Westminster, London (Wikipedia)

[3] i.e. Moran

[4] In case anyone is confused about this, Watson has been writing about Sherlock’s exploits under the pseudonym of Arthur Conan Doyle.

[cureicy]

BSD neurodivergent headcanons

not sure if i’ve already done this but uhhhhhh here goes

kunikida give me high functioning anxiety vibes. man has not let himself stim in years because he deems it unacceptable behavior (internalized ableism is a bitch) but occasionally lets himself do the pen click thing when he’s alone. Also when i say high functioning i mean he’s repressed enough to function well in society and presents as the braincell of the group, but at the cost of not understanding his own emotions and stunting his empathy. sometimes he permits himself to go to the office store and touch everything, as a treat.

atsushi tends to stim in more self soothing ways, like curling up and rocking when he’s had a bad day. due to his upbringing, he isn’t the most physically expressive person in terms of movement, but when he’s reading, his entire demeanor shifts to match the tone of his book. He flaps his hands when he’s really excited and open, which only the yokohama librarian has seen up close. probably has a blanket collection for pressure stim purposes and sleeps in a tank top no matter the season

kenji has ADHD and seasonal affective disorder, he just never knew because his parents handled it well enough without a diagnosis. He gardens in order to use up his excess energy, and talks with his hands a lot, to the point where his mom taught him “inside voice, inside hands” to teach him not to knock things over. his solutions to emotional problems go something like: if lonely, pet large animal or hug, if manic, go chop some firewood. if sad, sit in sunlight and talk about feelings. He’s still figuring out how to comfort someone with trauma, but he’s doing his best and we stan!

kyouka doesn’t externally stim, but has a very active internal world, which manifests in anything from maladaptive daydreaming to the dolphin brain (aka there’s a perfectly logical train of thought but most of it is hidden from outsiders, and it appears that she’s just saying random things in conversation.)

ranpo self medicates like hell, and has a legitimate sugar addiction that has mellowed out over the years but would cause a lot of medical problems if it weren’t for yosano. his executive dysfunction is an absolute bitch and he doesn’t always have the vocabulary to express how he feels. (for example: “no i don’t wanna save atsushi, gimme some good mysteries” translates to something along the lines of “i don’t have the energy to spare on an uncertain investment; currently seeking short term forms of serotonin that are proven to work, but validation will also give me the dopamine in order to help solve this problem”) there are multiple people who can match him intellectually, but because poe is the only autistic one with the same special interest, ranpo immediately latched on. when he was seven, he read a sherlock holmes novel, saw a lonely man with a cocaine problem and an extraordinary mind, and decided to be a detective. never looked back.

tachihara gives me big ADHD vibes. he was the sort of kid who watches tv shows for the fight scenes and the found family and nothing else, and never knew that emotional dysregulation and rejection sensitive dysphoria existed even though they impacted him heavily. he got a diagnosis, but the doctor was “ah yes you are a small boy with Not Sitting Still Disorder, this is normal for males and you will endure skepticism from adults”. he stims with his weaponry, because guns make such satisfying clicking noises.

gin is in the same category of high functioning anxiety as kunikida, but slightly to the left. She’s got selective mutism, which made it hard to be taken seriously as an assassin until she decided she was gonna be the strong, silent type at work. outside of her mafia duties, she makes meticulous shopping lists and falls asleep to relaxing nature sounds.

fukuzawa comes off as this intimidating strategic leader, but honestly look at him. man loves cats, gets flustered easily, and understands ranpo. he is in no way neurotypical.

anyways. feel free to give opinions and add on!