In Plain Sight - AU - Locked to
seaweed_writes
Feb. 1st, 2018 12:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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.
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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Date: 2018-03-04 07:29 pm (UTC)Without a word, he wrapped his hand around his cock and began to stroke. He thought of Sherlock, gasping and biting his lip.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:35 pm (UTC)"Mm.. thinking about all the times I've taken you, Johnny Boy? Fucked you into the bed and watch me leak out of you?" He asked with a hungry growl.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:40 pm (UTC)John shifted, giving Moriarty a better view, seeing his testes drawn up tight. He was almost there...
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:44 pm (UTC)"Yes, Johnny Boy let me hear you say my name as you come.." He groaned and leaned closer, getting ready to come all over John's chest and stomach when he reached his crescendo.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:47 pm (UTC)He remained where he was, pliant and obedient.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:55 pm (UTC)He stroked a few more times, then stepped out of the shower.. In an instant he was clean and dry and dressed again, though he left John as he was in the shower.
"I'm going to miss you, Johnny Boy, my little whore. Are you gonna miss me?" He asked in a syrupy sweet voice.
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Date: 2018-03-04 07:57 pm (UTC)He looked to Moriarty. "I will." He answered.
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:14 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2018-03-04 08:17 pm (UTC)He appeared in his flat in London and sighed. There was a spell in place, courtesy of Fates, that would give Moriarty what he wanted. An obedient, pining John.
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:27 pm (UTC)But the plant was grown, it was ready, Demeter said, and all Sherlock could do was wait for John's signal, when it was time to put the plan into action. He had no idea how much longer it would be. He knew John would be in London now, as the Winter Solstice had just passed, but who knew how things had gone with Moriarity. he knew John was still alive, he would feel it if John had died, so that was wonderful of course, but just because he wasn't dead didn't mean that the lunatic couldn't have done terrible things.
he sighed and paced the house, waiting.. waiting..
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:39 pm (UTC)He held out his hand to Sherlock.
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Date: 2018-03-04 08:49 pm (UTC)But John.. this meant that John was ready, or maybe they just needed to plan. He looked back into the other room, where the flowers lay.
"One moment." He went to Demeter, and thanked her, for everything, assuring her that he would inform her when the deed was done. She handed him a flower, gently kissed his forehead, and let him go.
Sherlock came back with the flower gently cradled in his hands.
"I am ready." He took Fates' hand in his own.
It was almost time.
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Date: 2018-03-05 12:05 am (UTC)John looked up when Fates appeared. He was expecting the god to be alone. But he wasn't.
His heart clenched and he... He looked away, ashamed.
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Date: 2018-03-05 12:26 am (UTC)Had something.. or someone happened? Did.. John not want him any more?
"Oh." Sherlock nodded his head. So.. he was going to have to do this on his own, apparently.
How was he going to get into Hell? Cerberus would let him in, but he'd never get to Moriarty fast enough to administer the poison.
This plot was over.
"Okay." Sherlock disappeared in a puff of smoke, the delicate flower still in his hand. As he disappeared, he decided on Hawaii. Maybe the volcano would remind him of home.
He arrived on a small, deserted island, because the volcano was still active. The lava wouldn't kill him. He found a high ridge where the lava didn't flow and planted the flower, then sat down next to it, trying not to break down.
He had no idea what he did, but it must have been bad, John didn't even want him any more.
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Date: 2018-03-05 12:44 am (UTC)He just. He didn't want. Want... Why? Sherlock. His heart broke and he wanted to vanish. He couldn't go back to Moriarty. He couldn't live with that.
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Date: 2018-03-05 12:52 am (UTC)He hadn't cheated on John, he had only ever been with Demeter the entire time, and they all knew that she was more like a mother or a big sister to them, he would never think about her in that way.
So what had changed?
He had no idea, and it totally broke his heart.
He went walking around the edge of the volcano. Even if he threw himself in, it wouldn't kill him, so he walked, in his bare feet, the red hot lava hissing around and between his toes, but he thought nothing of it.
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:01 am (UTC)"He thinks you left because you saw the truth. Moriarty... He had no choice but to sleep with him. To gain his trust. Demeter is there consoling him, trying to convince to not poison himself." He hissed, "John loves you more than anything. He is doing everything to get Moriarty to trust you."
Greg turned and paced along the ledge.
"I didn't see Moriarty killing you, that was not a fate I expected." He admitted, "But you and John will take back Hell."
He rounded to look at Sherlock. He hardly ever revealed the future.
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:08 am (UTC)Slowly, surprise dawned on his face, then anger, simmering anger. His eyes grew red and flames grew around his body. "
I will kill him, that usurper. He took me, took my title, and took my lover. I will make him suffer before he dies.Mark my words. I don't know how, but he will suffer at my hands. An eternity of pain will not be enough suffering for what he has done..."
All of the anger and hatred faded as soon as Greg said those next words. He looked at his friend, confusion on his face again.
"Wait.. why.. are you telling me this? You aren't allowed to reveal the future..." Did that mean that Fates had changed the future by telling him what would happen? would everything unravel if it happened as he deemed it?
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:35 am (UTC)Greg vanished with the plant and a huff.
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:46 am (UTC)Maybe Demeter had another one ready? He could go to the US.. but no. He had to get back to London. Wait.. she was in London now.. with John.. but she wouldn't have brought a plant with her.. He was even more confused than before, but he vanished in a poof of smoke.
A moment later he was back in the London flat, with John and Demeter almost right where he had left them.
"John.... I..." His voice falter. "Greg.. he told me... everything..." His head sank. What could he say? I'm sorry wouldn't even begin to cover it..
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:48 am (UTC)John looked at Sherlock and started to shake. "I'm sorry. Please forgive me. I couldn't deny him. I... I..." He started to crumble, tears falling down his face. He was a wreck.
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Date: 2018-03-05 01:59 am (UTC)He turned back to John, his main focus.
Sherlock ran over to John, collecting him in is arms and gently rocking him back and forth. "John.. don't apologize. You had no choice." Sadness turned to anger. His eyes turned red and flames engulfed them both.
"I will make the usurper pay for what he did to you, John. You can take my word on it." He immediately calmed down, kissing and rubbing any part of John that he could get a hold of.
"We need to be strong now. We can't have any weakness when we go into Hell. He will latch onto it and use it against us. You have to be strong now, John. Can you do that, for me, please?"
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Date: 2018-03-05 02:02 am (UTC)John clung to Sherlock, inhaling his scent, pressing against his love. To feel him again... It was everything. He let out a breath and returned the kiss. He could get lost in them.
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Date: 2018-03-05 02:13 am (UTC)He turned to Greg. "So, we put that in some American Whiskey, and then somehow John gets him to drink it... and then what, will he just die, or will he just be weakened and we have to kill him?" Sherlock had no qualms about killing him, getting in the killing blow. In face, he hoped that he would have to. He would have rather kept the man alive to make him suffer, but that was dangerous he knew, he had to be killed and quickly.
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Date: 2018-03-05 02:53 am (UTC)Greg poured the powder into the whiskey and then focused on resealing the body. It was a rarer American Whiskey.
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