ihadabadday | In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed

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In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

No one knew how long Gods had walked among the mortals. They just knew they had. Some remained in their country of origin, some branched out and traveled. Others started business or charities. Some just went through existence simply being. Belief didn't have much to do with how the Gods chose to lead their lives.

This tale though, it focuses on the Greek Gods of old and Mount Olympus (which is a real place and traditionally is where Zeus is said to live with Hera).

John Watson didn't care for the politics of the Gods that surrounded them every day. He had other things to focus on, to pay attention to. Like medical school, and then the military. It wasn't until he was shot and laying in the desert, bleeding, did he whisper things to the God of Death, to Hades. To a god he didn't believe in. Blood whispers they were often called. And gods hardly paid attention to them, most believed they were the whispers of dying men.

But John Watson survived when others with the same injury had died. What was different about him?

He returned to London on an army pension and a cane. He shuffled through his life, a constant ache in his chest, like there was something missing. Though he had little to no idea of what was missing. He helped others where he could, donating his time and what little money. A homeless veteran (it boiled him so to see those who helped their country be left behind) once called him a beacon of light.

A beacon of light huh?

Most days he didn't feel like one. Most days his mood was dark and everything was shit.

One night when he was limping slowly back to his dismal bedsit, something caught his attention. He glanced down an alley and saw a tall man dressed in black, being mugged by some ratty youth. The man was far too posh for this neighborhood. So why was he here? But that didn't matter. John, on two strong legs, charged into the alley and used his cane to knock the criminal away. He didn't notice, but there seemed to be a light around him, an otherworldy aura to him.

He held the cane like a sword and pointed it at the would be thief. "You need to leave here." John commanded. It had been easy for some to forget that he had been Captain John Watson of the Fifth Northumberland Fusiliers in Her Majesty's Army.

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"Fuck." Sherlock muttered under his breath, then he waved his hands in an angry, dismissive manner. "Fine." He knew John was right, but he didn't have to like it, so he crossed his arms and huffed, falling into a little strop.

John was not ready to return to Hell. Return to Moriarty. They had a plan though. God he hoped that it would work.

He walked past Cerberus, feeling a sense of calm come over him. He could be the shy, timid god that Moriarty wanted. A play thing.

"I'm back! I brought presents." Along with the whiskey, he had brought various other things they suspected Moriarty would like. Or things they knew he would.

Cerberus had raised his heads at John, but had mostly disregarded him. It was obviously going to let John back into Hell.

But it cocked its heads to the side at the man.... well, god, who was behind John. Despite not having seen its second ever master, and its longest running master for over a century, it knew who Sherlock was. It looked a bit confused, but happy that he was back, but looked into the throne room, then back to Sherlock.

"I have to stay out here, hidden, with you Cerberus." He gently petted the middle head, earning a growl of contentment. "John is going to go kill your master, I hope, and then I will rule here again.

Cerberus laid its heads down again, looking content that things would soon be back to normal.

--

Moriarty had been looking rather bored on the throne, but he jumped up and almost ran over to John, caressing him gently.

"Oh, I missed you, Johnny Boy." He said, saddling up close. "What did you bring me?" He looked like a kid at Christmas.

"A rare American Whiskey, I sampled it and it was very good." He said showing Moriarty the bottle.

He then showed him some books, a watch. Just honestly handsome things. But the biggest was the whiskey. He smiled and produced two glasses. He knew better than to assume Moriarty was going to drink alone.

Moriarty thinned his eyes. "You said you sampled it, yet this bottle looks unopened." He studied it carefully. "You drink it." He said. "All of it. And if its good, I can get someone to go get some more for me."

He was obviously not going to take any chances here, even if the bottle was unopened. He wasn't a fool.

"When I bought it, the seller let me sample a handful of whiskeys to find the right one." John said. His shoulders dropped.

"I just wanted to do something nice for you." He said sadly, "I'm sorry." John stared at his lap.

Moriarty sighed. He hated when John used the puppy dog eyes. "You will drink at least half of it. And then.. I might take a sip." He said, finally acquiescing a little bit.. He was still skeptical, but he took the whiskey and shook it up, so if there was anything on the bottom, it would be all through the whiskey, then handed it back.

"Come on, pet. Drink up."

John nodded and opened it. He poured himself a glass and downed it. And then another glass until half the bottle was gone. He sat there, watching Moriarty, there were no ill effects. Poisons were instant. Especially ones for a god.

"See, nothing's wrong." He said, "Besides wasting half a bottle of good whiskey."

"Oh, it's never a waste watching you suck something down." He almost purred.

"I think I'm going to have fun drinking the last of this whiskey, then I'm gonna let you give me a blow job, so I can feel those whiskey soaked lips on my cock." He looked down, apparently getting a little excited. "Or maybe, I should go ahead and do that right now... " he looked at John with e predatory grin.

John swallowed. "You can do both? Drink the whiskey while I'm sucking you off?" He offered. He didn't want to, but he had to keep up the apperances. He shifted a bit forward and pressed his hand over Moriarty's groin.

"Enjoy two things at once?"

Moriarty thinned his eyes again. "You seem awful excited to get me to drink this whiskey." He said, looking at the bottle. He had half a mind to throw it against the floor, but he abstained at the last minute.

"Get on your knees, pet, and let's see how that mouth works, and maybe we can talk about the whiskey later."

--

Sherlock was out of eye shot, but he had enough of a view from a little alcove in the ceiling, he could hear and see what was going on while staying in the shadows. It took every single little bit of his willpower to not get angry enough to give away his position. He bit the inside of his lip till he felt coppery blood. His body was thrumming but he stayed still and quiet, for now.

John went to his knees and swallowed. "I really just want you to try it." He admitted, "But it can wait." he focused on working Moriarty's cock free and then taking it in his mouth.

He swallowed and then began to bob his head up and down,

"Hmm.. I bet you do, my pet." Almost immediately, Moriarty put his hand in John's hair, tugging at it just on the side of too hard.

"Mmm.. what a sweet, sweet burn. Maybe I should make you drink the rest and do this to me again." He growled, pushing his cock further, deeper in John's mouth.

Meanwhile Sherlock was balling his fists so hard that he was leaving crescent shaped indentations in his palms. Oh, Moriarty was going to pay for this.

John groaned and pulled back slightly. "I will drink the rest if you take a glass, please?" He asked breathlessly. His lips were already starting to swell.

He returned to bobbing his head up and down Moriarty's cock. He didn't want to drink it. He hoped the man would drink some and it would weaken him enough.

"Later, my love.Later." He purred. "For now.." His voice trailed off as he shoved more of his cock into John;s throat.. filling his mouth to the back of his throat, making it impossible for Jon to talk back to him now. He held tight to John's hair. "Come on, my pet. You know you love the taste of me. I've seen how you beg for it. ."

'Beg for it?' Sherlock look shocked. Did.. John.. enjoy this more than he was letting on? He couldn't see Johns face at this angle so he couldn't tell, but he certainly seemed to be going at it anxiously.

John hated this. He hated it with every fiber of his being. But he continued bobbing his head.

He tightened his hands into fists, to Moriarty it would look like he was struggling not to touch him. He moaned, shifting a bit.

He hated that Sherlock had to see this, that the man might think he was enjoying it.

"Oh, you can touch me, my love. In fact, please do." Moriarty reached down and put one each of John's hands on his hips. It would give him better leverage to push in even deeper. He wasn't all the way inside of John yet, he would have to go down his throat.

"Oh, my pet. I love it when I can fuck your throat." None too gently, in fact not gently at all, he pushed hard, ramming the rest of his length inside of John's mouth. "Ahh... so hot and wet. Let me fuck you..." And he started slamming in and out of John;s mouth, fucking him hard and fast.

John whined and shook his head. He hated it when Moriarty did this. He hated the feeling. He really did. He wanted it to be Sherlock. He wanted his love back in Hell. Ruling it where he belonged.

He wished Moriarty would drink the whiskey and Sherlock would be able to kill him. He wanted this done.

"Oh.. too much, my pet?" Surprisingly Moriarty actually pulled back a good bit, almost all the way out of John, holding himself there for a moment.

Then his eyes went cold again. "Too bad." He shoved himself hard again, deep and fast into John. It only took a few shallow thrusts before he was coming deep inside of John, way down this throat, massive amounts of his seed, much more than Sherlock ever produced.

He continued to thrust even after he was done, finally pulling back with a satisfying pop.

"Oh, my little one. You are such a good toy. It's a shame I'll have to get rid of you."

John coughed after swallowing the seed that Moriarty released. He heaved and then looked up. He whined and wiped his mouth. "Get rid of me?" He asked confused.

"Have I displeased you?"

Had Moriarty found out? No. He couldn't have. They were all so careful.

Sherlock tensed. He might have to go into action fast. He got ready to jump down and run into the throne room if needed.

--

Moriarty shook his head. "You were a wonderful little pet, but.. you have outstayed your welcome. And I can't have you sharing yourself with anyone else now, can I? " His voice was mockingly soft and gentle.

He grabbed the whiskey bottle and poured most of the rest of it over John's head, only leaving a small bit at the bottom.

But, you did insist that this was good whiskey, I suppose that I should give it a little try, so maybe you can see how much I enjoy it as I slit your throat.

Moriarty pushed John to the ground, using his foot to keep him immobile, pressing down enough to have crushed bone, if he had been a normal mortal. But it was enough to keep a demigod where he was. He had the remains of the whiskey bottle in one hand, and in the other, he created a blade with his magic.

"It wouldn't be enough to kill a REAL god." he mocked. "But a little half breed like you, this should slit your throat nicely.

John was panicking. He stared up at Moriarty, his eyes widen. Oh god. No. He couldn't leave Sherlock again. He refused to leave Sherlock again.

His eyes flashed red and gold shot from the floor, wrapping around Moriarty and holding him tight.

This wasn't the power of Persephone. It was Ares. It was pure Ares and pure magic. Rage fueled. Sherlock had once seen what the rage inside John Watson had done. He bared his teeth and then forced Moriarty to drink the last bit of the whiskey.

Once that was done, he used the power to throw Moriarty across the room and into a wall. John stood up, an overlay settling over him. He was Ares only heir, his only child. And all of that power lay in John Watson. Fueled by rage and desire.

The millisecond that Sherlock saw the power coming from John, he jumped down from the ceiling and ran into the throne room. By the time he was there, John had made Moriarty drink the whiskey, and before he could get to John, he had already thrown the man across the room.

"John!" He ran up to John, afraid to touch him, he was crackling with energy. He looked over to Moriarty, who was trying to sit up, but was weak, and was stumbling around.

He looked to John. "I have to kill him now. You shouldn't look." He had killed many people, but never in front of John, he didn't want John to see what he was about to have to do.

John looked at him and then nodded. He turned and then stopped. He looked back at Moriarty. "I hope you burn for eternity. You deserve it for killing my love." He hissed before pulling the power back under his skin.

He crossed to where Cerberus lay. John sighed and stroked the middle head gently. "All this upheaval."

Cerberus had been in the entry chamber, but the entrance between the two massive caves was huge, and it could see what was going on, though it knew that it couldn't interfere. It had watched with great interest.

Being a giant demon dog, it didn't have a lot of emotions to show, but its body seemed to be less tense now, it knew that its former master was finally coming back, and if a giant elephant sized demon hound could look happy, it would have. As it was, it gently pushed its middle head against John in what could almost be called a nuzzle.

__

Sherlock made sure that John was not looking. When h e could see that John was with Cerberus, he went to Moriarty and stood over him, putting his foot on the man's chest. He was weak enough that he couldn't get up.

He created a scythe with a wooden handle, a tool he knew had been associated with Death for eons.

He stood over Moriarty, scythe raised high. And he repeated the last words that Thanatos had ever said to him. "Good bye, Thanatos. I'm Lord of the Dead now."

One fell swoop, and his head was released from his body.

Immediately, he could feel he power surging back inside of him, all the powers of the Lord of the Dead.

"Cerberus. Fetch." He picked up the head by the hair and threw it high in the air. Cerberus, showing an extreme amount of dexterity for such a large dog, bounded past John and caught the head in its middle maw, gulping it down in one bite. Immediatly it went to the body and between the three heads made short work of it. There were only large spots of blood and little bits of flesh and cloth when they were done.

He looked over to John. "Sorry it was so gruesome, but it is done." He was glad that Moriarty was gone, but killing another god, even one as terrible as Thanatos, left a scar on his soul.

In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to seaweed_writes

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