#Hes also psychopathic enough that he could have done that with ulterior motives | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

kozozaki · 3 years

Text

Arson is a great pastime - Chapter 2

Y/n was on her way to L'manburg when she saw Tommy running in her direction. "Whoa, slow down Tommy, what's the hurry for?"

"I was, looking for you, actually," he seemed very out of breath. How long had he been running for?

“Why?”

“What? Can’t I just want to see a friend?” He sounded offended.

“Tommy, you always have ulterior motives," he scowled, knowing it was the truth.

“Fine,” Tommy huffed, “Y’know this new guy, Ranboo?”

She tensed for a split second, she was still wary of him. She should trust her older brother, but it was hard with everything he's done in the past, "Yeah."

"Well, y'know how George was nowhere to be seen during the- the war?" He hesitated, it had been over for a while but it was still a sensitive topic. She nodded in understanding, "I found out what he was doing! The motherfucker was building a house, in the middle of a fucking war!"

Tommy was outraged but Y/n couldn't help but laugh, "At least he wasn't sleeping for once!"

He smiled, "You laugh so fucking easily," he paused debating if he should say it or not, "Pussy."

Y/n instantaneously stopped laughing and looked up at the smug boy. She pulled her sword out of its sheath and positioned it so it would be only a few centimeters from his throat.

"Y/n, what are you doing with that sword?" His voice was shaky, obviously afraid. It was her turn to be cocky now, giving a sarcastic shrug, expertly avoiding his neck. "Okay okay, I'm sorry! Just, please, don't kill me!"

"Hmmm. Okay Tommy!" Tommy looked incredibly confused at the girl's compliance. He quickly realized that it was all an act to scare him. They are only a few people who she wouldn't hesitate to kill given the chance, and he wasn't one of them.

"Okay, so follow me," Y/n did, and was lead behind the portal and to a cozy looking, mushroom themed home, "George was building a home, in the middle of a war."

"Are you fucking kidding me? Of course he would…" She said in a slightly upset monotone voice.

"I have a plan to get back at him! That's why we need Ranboo, so if we get caught we can frame him!"

"Tommy! We can't just frame people! Are you insane?! What are we even gonna do that'll warrant framing someone?!" She panicked, Tommy never thought anything through.

"Calm down woman, so many questions! Just doing some minor robbing," Y/n started walking the other way, " maybe a little, lighting fires, as well." She turned back around, her eyes wide. Of course, he had to mention fire. Y/n was a bit of a pyromaniac, so much so that Dream's nickname for her was firebug.

"Oh, you fucker. I'll help, but only if we don't frame Ranboo. He can help, if he wants. If he's blamed for it first we don't interfere, but if either or both of us get pointed out first, we don't pin it on him, okay?"

Tommy nods, agreeing to her terms. "Okay, let's find this Ranboo first.”

“Oh, I think I saw him in the nether actually!” Y/n ran towards the portal, Tommy accompanying her.

They arrived and saw him right by the nether portal. "H-Hey, Ranboo," Tommy looked at her startled, she was never one to stutter. She looked at him with a look that screamed ‘Did I just do that?’ He nodded slowly, still looking confused.

“Hey, guys.” Ranboo had no idea why they were looking at each other like that.

“Oh, hello, Ranboo. We want you to help us with something.”

“Jeez, Tommy, straight to the point…” Y/n muttered.

“Don’t doubt me Y/n.” He leaned towards her ear, only a couple of inches.

“Sorry, Tommy.” As she finished her sentence, Ranboo pulled out a book and wrote something. She was curious but didn’t want to be rude.

“What do you want my help with, Y/n and Tommy?”

“First off, it’s Tommy and Y/n, not Y/n and Tommy,” Y/n gave him a quick jab in the side with her elbow, he winced but carried on, ignoring her sharp glare, “Also, come with us to my house, we’ll tell you.”

“I don’t know why we’re going to Tommy’s house, but it’s safe, I’m pretty sure.”

“‘I’m pretty sure?’ Why aren’t you completely sure? Should I be concerned?” Ranboo questioned.

“What is with you guys and questions?”

“Nah, there isn’t really any reason to be concerned, just be on edge, who knows what the hell Tommy does in his free time.”

Tommy huffed in annoyance toward Y/n’s teasing. They were at Tommy’s home. Tommy asked Ranboo where he wanted to go, and he chose the lair. “Ranboo, I say we rob George.”

“I- Why would we rob him?” Ranboo asked. The h/c girl averted her eyes, starting to regret agreeing to this, or rather, starting to regret it more than she did a few minutes ago.

“Right, you’re new here. Just simple payback Ranboo. You see, we had a war almost 2 weeks ago, and George didn’t show up, at all. And, earlier today, I found out what he was doing, instead of participating in a war. He was building a goddamn house. Now, we won’t destroy anything, we’ll just steal a few things. Y/n will light a few fires, not his house though, just a few trees that are around, they’re far enough away from each other, we won’t start a forest fire. We just want minor payback.”

“That sounds, better? But, why do you want me to help?”

“Ranboo let’s face it, Y/n is probably sick and tired of me, she needs more friends.”

“That sounds incredibly sad, are you okay?” Y/n appreciated how genuine his concern was.

“Yeah, I’m pretty okay. My brother is kinda a psychopath, and the man that was like a substitute older brother to me was killed. Other than that, I’d say I’m doing a-okay, Ranboo,” she didn’t realize how that sounded until she looked up and saw Ranboo’s slightly perplexed posture. “I-I’m sorry! That sounded really bitter and sarcastic, I’m actually fine, those things are just, kind of hard to comprehend, still,” she talked slower towards the end of her sentence.

Ranboo noticed this, “H-Hey, it’s fine, Y/n, I understand, it didn’t sound as mean as you think, it’s okay.” He smiled, which she could hardly see through his mask, but she knew it was there. She smiled back.

“Okay, let’s go.” She said.

Once they arrived, Y/n strode towards a tall spruce tree. She pulled out her flint and steel and stared at it for a moment in dispute with herself. If she did this, what would happen? Would they actually be caught? What if Dream found out? She rubbed the flint against a rock to see if it still worked. A couple of sparks flew before it set the leaf she was holding with her left hand on fire. She hissed when the burning touched her skin slightly. She hadn’t done this for a while.

“No time like the present,” Y/n whispered to no one but herself. She took a step closer to the tree and with a swift cutting motion, the bark of the tree erupted into hot orange flares. She backed away with a sadistic smirk. She looked around for a brief second, surveying to see if anyone was near, only to see that there was another fire a few meters away from her’s. One that was burning parts of George’s home.

She ran into the house to see what they were doing. She saw crying obsidian on the walls, derogatory messages on signs, but most notably patches of netherrack on the floor, each covered in fire. “What the hell? This is why I was put in charge of the burning!”

“What’re you on about Y/n? I’ve got this!” Tommy sounded so sure of himself, unaware of what he had done.

“Obviously you don’t, George’s house is burning on the outside!” She yelled at him.

Tommy looked at her with wide eyes, she’s only ever been this angry at Dream. There was a long silence, during which she visibly calmed down, the look in her eyes was of lament, her body was visibly shaking, purely from her regret of everything that happened in the past 5 minutes. “Guys we have to go,” Tommy said quickly, exiting the grieved home.

Y/n nodded but didn’t move. Tommy was already over by the jungle trees waiting for them. Ranboo noticed Y/n wasn’t moving. He placed a hand on the top of her back, “C’mon Y/n, if we wait too long to leave they’ll know it was us, okay?”

“Okay, Ranboo,” she said just hardly loud enough for him to hear. They walked through the forest to avoid being seen until they go to Tommy’s base and inside his lair. They stashed everything they stole under the stone flooring.

“We should go talk to Niki and Puffy for an alibi,” Tommy suggested.

“You guys can go do that. Can I stay here for a while, Tommy? I don’t feel so good,” the girl said, her voice trembling.

“You can stay here as long as you like Y/n, don’t worry about it,” Tommy gave her a sad smile to which she returned, taking comfort in the pinkish-purple couch, which was surprisingly warm for being underground.

Tommy walked over to the ladder, Ranboo following him closely. Tommy was already above ground, but Ranboo waited at the bottom of the ladder. “Bye, Y/n. Don’t worry, if anything happens, I know it wasn’t your fault. Just don’t beat yourself up over it, please.”

They sat in comfortable silence for a moment before Y/n responded, “Thank you, Ranboo. I-I’ll try not to.”

“I don’t want to come back to you being gone, or having a panic attack. So please, avoid doing that.”

“Hurry up Ranboo!”

She laughed quietly and nodded, “Goodbye, Ranboo.”

“Goodbye, Y/n for real this time.”

She watched as he climbed up the ladder. If he was a spy, she would be more upset than she would’ve been originally. She doubted it though.

----------

alkjfdakslfjkl, this took forever. But I’m actually kind of happy with how it turned out?

#ranboo x reader #ranboo #dream smp x reader #mcyt x reader #dream smp #mcyt

132 notes · View notes

thrift-shop-fiction · 5 years

Text

Arriba | 1

Pairing: Taehyung x Fem!Reader

Genre: They both own Taco stores the hell kinda genre do I call this.

Warnings: Swearing, Implied Smut/ Future Smut

A/N: The read more IS THERE, but Tumblr sucks so it’s not showing up on mobile for some reason?? I also said this would be up like a billion years ago but guess what? It wasn’t. Sorry about that I guess? Sorry if this is awful, I hope it’ll get better. Hope you enjoy, have an ace day/night :) (feel free to request or ask anything about this or any of my other stuff)

The invigorating aroma of spices and herbs drifted through the sweltering rustic styled kitchen. You swiped a hand across your forehead before continuing to chop onion. “Yo Hoseok, can you open the windows real quick please?”.

“Sure thing, Chef.” The flaming orange haired man skidded towards the cyan and orange windows, and threw them open with a flourish. He sauntered back to his area, where he stirred a pot, arranging succulent chicken marinated in chilli and mint on platters and called over one of your two waiters, Jungkook, to take the plates.

Running a restaurant was stressful, but you got to cook everyday, and it sure as hell payed. Your staff, Jungkook, Namjoon and Hoseok were your best friends. But there was one little thing, or one person for that matter, that never ceased to get on your nerves, and that person was Kim Taehyung.

Taehyung owned the Mexican Korean fusion restaurant across the road from yours. Your restaurant, Quesa Mesa, also being a Mexican, rivalled with Taehyung’s every day, constantly butting heads for the top spot, but always drawing.

If it was just that, you wouldn’t have much of a problem with Taecos, but Taehyung was a condescending prick. He’d had the upper hand when you first started your restaurant, what with his mother, a first generation American-Korean starting the restaurant with his Mexican father thirty years ago, but that soon changed. And if all that wasn’t enough, he was probably the hottest guy you’d ever met.

You had bought the plot, with ideas for your restaurant already crystal clear in your mind, without knowing there was a Mexican directly across. You went along with your plan nonetheless, expecting a healthy rivalry with Taecos, nothing more, nothing less. What you hadn’t expected was all-out war.

At half twelve you locked the doors to Quesa Mesa and skipped down the steps into the almost empty street. And just as you stepped onto the black pavement, another restaurant across the street was being locked by it’s owner.

Taehyung locked eyes with you as soon as he turned around. A smirk settled upon his face as he jogged across the road towards you.

“Y/N, fancy seeing you here.” Taehyung drawled as he leaned on one leg leisurely, smirk still imprinted firmly on his face “ What’s a lady like you doing walking home alone at night?”

You sighed heavily, closing your eyes for a second “Taehyung, get out my way.”

“What’s the magic word, doll?” His eyes sparkled with mirth as they glinted in the artificial yellow light from the street lamps. Tired of his almost daily snarky comments, you shouldered past him. “Woah, woah, woah, a bit feisty today are we?” Taehyung snickered as you stormed down the street.

Turning the corner abruptly you balled your hands into fists as you made your way to your apartment a few blocks away. You should be used to it after two years, but it still annoyed you, and hurt slightly. Once the anger ebbed away, your pace slowed and your hands fell limp at your sides. You had never done anything to him, but all he did was belittle you.

Once inside your cosy apartment, you cracked open a cheap supermarket red wine, pouring it into a glass, you slumped into a seat for a well earned session of miserably contemplating your life choices.

You woke up to the upbeat blast of your phone’s alarm with a sore head, cradling a wine glass. Groaning, you placed a hand on your throbbing head and cracked your neck, looking around to see that you were still in your living room, sitting on your couch with a half empty bottle of wine at your feet.

The blinding blue light of your phone blared into your sleep filled eyes as you read the time, 12:00. Still half asleep, you showered and threw on a pair of jeans and a hoodie haphazardly. The sun shone happily down on the street as you walked. Sunny days usually never failed to put a big smile on your face and send you skipping down the street as you beamed manically, but today a scowl was jammed on your face, hood up and shoulders slumped as you slowly trekked towards your restaurant to pick up a supply delivery.

By the time you rounded the corner you had managed to wrangle your features into a somewhat not psychopathic expression, though a metaphorical thundercloud still hovered above your head. The truck was already there, but was on the other side of the street and you saw Taehyung signing off for his deliveries. Once you were in earshot, your patent scowl appeared again as you listened.

“Yes, you can just leave those here too, I’ll drop them off at Quesa Mesa when the owner arrives.” His face was a picture of innocence and good will, but you could tell in his eyes as he glanced at you for a second that he had ulterior motives.

The driver revved his engines and sped off before you could shout to tell him to stop. Taehyung was still stood outside eyeing you evilly. Crossing the road, you bounded over with a dark and menacing look on your face. You stood in front of him, staring him down as he looked you straight in the eyes with amusement.

“My dear Y/N, may I ask why you are standing outside my restaurant?” his pouty pink lips curved up on one side into a knowing smirk.

“You know full well why I’m here you snake.” you hissed.

“Hmm, I don’t think I do why don’t you elaborate, doll?” a deep chuckle rumbled out from his throat.

“Well you quite clearly have my groceries.” your eyes rolled towards the sky, exasperated.

“The only groceries I have are my own, I can’t believe that you would think that I would do something like that.” Taehyung turned away from you theatrically, placing one hand on his chest and the other he rested daintily on his head “I’ve never done anything to you. I’m hurt, Y/N, I’m hurt.”

“You’re one to talk, aren’t you? I heard you talking to him ‘Yes, you can leave those here too, I’ll drop them off at Quesa Mesa when the owner arrives’” You raised your voice an octave and flapped your hands as you spoke “Well, you know what? If you don’t give me my groceries, I’ll sue you.” Your voice turned icy cold as your eyes bore into him, roaring with flames.

Taehyung swallowed and shuffled backwards slightly “Well, um, I don’t know which ones are yours so you’ll have to find them yourself.” turning on his heel, he speed walked back inside to the dim depths of his unlit restaurant, saloon-style door decorated with intricate cranes and clouds swinging closed behind him.

“Typical.” Sighing, you turned to the jumbled up mountain of crates, each one labelled with a miniscule, almost illegible, sloppy scrawl of either ‘Taecos’ or ‘Quesa Mesa’.

Once you had lugged the last crate over to your brightly coloured restaurant painted in hues of red, orange and yellow, you slumped down on the steps. Sweat trickled down the back of your neck as you panted from exertion. The cloudless blue sky stretched as far as the eye could see, and the blinding sun sat firmly at two o'clock. Why on earth you had decided to wear a thick black hoodie and jeans on a sweltering hot day like this was beyond you.

Feeling like you were going to explode from the heat, you shrugged off your hoodie to reveal your sports bra as you got up to go take the groceries inside. Just when you got up, Taehyung walked out of his door to do the same.

“Fuck.” Taehyung breathed as he stared at your partly exposed back. When you walked inside, he snapped out of his haze, deciding that ogling your sworn enemy, no matter how good-looking they were, was not a good look.

By the time you walked out after putting away the crate’s contents and having a much needed drink of ice cold water, you clapped eyes on a shirtless Taehyung. Your eyes bulged out of their sockets as you stared at his lightly honeyed skin glistened in the heat and his toned back muscles rippled as he lifted a crate and turned around to face you, giving you a view of his golden abs.

Ripping your eyes away, you speedily walked towards your pile of crates to pick one up. Your face was burning red as you avoided Taehyung’s knowing smirk.

“Like what you see doll?” Taehyung spoke, deeper than he normally would, and just slightly louder so you could hear him across the admittedly small and empty street. His eyes were trained on your face, careful not to give in to his desires and let them slip down to your chest, to keep both his composure, and his dignity intact.

You walked inside without swiftly without comment, putting the crate down and slumping beside it, you let out a breath. “What the fuck. Why are the assholes always stacked? It’s bad enough that it’s always that prick that gets me all riled up.” You muttered as you ran a hand through your dampened hair. “God, not only the face of a supermodel, but the body of literal god, and that VOICE, I’m fucking screwed, or actually, I’m not unfortunately.”

“You damn right, he is fine.” You whipped your head around to see Hoseok exaggeratedly fanning himself.

“Did you hear all of that?” Your face reddened once more as you cringed at the thought.

“Mmm hmm, but I do NOT blame you, 11/10 would smash.” Hoseok plonked down his crate and sat beside you “Apart from the attitude, that’s a -1.”

“Thank you, king of the homosexuals, for your extremely valid opinion.” laughing, you both decided to unpack the crates before you went back out, in hopes that Taehyung would no longer be there, and in Hoseok’s words 'save me from looking like the thirstiest gay ever’.

When you did venture back outside however, the odds were not in your favour. Taehyung was still there, picking up his last box, still shirtless and had now donned a white bandana. A bead of sweat dripped down the curve of his sun-kissed bicep, that you hadn’t taken the time to notice before. The two of you rushed back inside as quick as you could with your crates, jumping around and quietly screaming in the pantry like a bunch of teenage girls.

“SWEET JESUS, PLEASE SEX GODS IF YOU DON’T GIVE ME A BONER I’LL SACRIFICE MY NEXT PAY CHEQUE.” Hoseok screamed as he hopped about the room.

“You might wanna sacrifice something else pal.” you chuckled as you walked over to stack items in the fridge.

Turning round, eyes narrowed, Hoseok pointed at you, jokingly “You better not hold me to that, you hoe. Besides, you’re one to talk, your lady boner is pretty damn obvious.”

“Oh fuck off.” Shaking your head with a guffaw you began your duties once more, and your light-hearted friend started to unpack a crate.

“I’m truly flattered that I’m that attractive to you.” You stopped stock still at the sound of a low, melodic voice, dripping with contempt. The two of you whipped around, faces redder than the garish plastic of the crates as your eyes found Taehyung’s triumphant face. His smirk grew even wider as his eyes landed on yours, dropping a snarky wink. He was still wearing what he had been previously, his self-assured stance letting you know he knew what it did to you.

“I was just coming by to ask if you needed any help with carrying your crates in. But it’s great to know your thoughts on my appearance.” A hand came to rest on his hip as his eyes bore into you. Your eyes felt like they were going to pop out of their sockets from the sheer intensity of his gaze, and your face was hot and flushed, though you were unable to rip your eyes away.

“My offer’s still open, you know.” Taehyung’s eyes shone in the warm light as it streamed through the windows, his glittering pupils seemed almost genuine for a second, it was almost as if a halo had surrounded his head, an innocent, child like look was painted softly on his face. Lips falling from their teasing grin to form a soft smile. Just for a moment, he seemed truly happy to help you with your crates, happy to be there with you. But just as soon as it appeared it was gone. You could practically see devil horns sprouting from his skull, as he resumed his prior expression in a hurried manor.

“W-well I’ll take that as a no then. See you darling.” His slight stutter as he begun to speak was almost unnoticeable, quickly covered up by his signature drawl. With a wink he disappeared around the corner, a little to quickly, and bounded across the street.

Hoseok let out a dramatic sigh, and pressing the back of his hand to his forehead, promptly fell flat on the floor. You quickly followed in joining his starfish pity party, though the look on Taehyung’s face still lingered in your mind.

The night passed with more hiccups than usual, mainly on your part. Your thoughts had been preoccupied with Taehyung, you just hadn’t been able to shake his expression from your head. After burning onions for the third time, Hoseok suggested you take a break for a bit, which you gladly did, and stayed behind to wash up as an apology.

You were shaken from your thoughts by a low, dulcet, and somewhat familiar voice from across the street. There was a man handing a walking stick to a frail old woman, he looked to be in his early twenties, and had big, brown eyes brimming with affection and wonder, his mouth curved into a toothy box smile and his eyes crinkled up as the woman thanked him. His unruly walnut coloured hair bobbed up and down as he bowed slightly to her.

No matter how familiar everything about him seemed, you couldn’t quite put a finger on who it was. No. It couldn’t be. Skeptically, your eyes traced his features, growing mortified as you realised who the man, that was now staring right at you, was. Kim Taehyung jumped as he realised he had let his guard down, and quickly morphed his face into the oh so familiar smirk.

“Night babe.” He snickered before sauntering off down the street, turning the corner abruptly.

Who the hell was Taehyung?

And why was he only a prick to you?

46 notes · View notes

afishlearningpoetry · 5 years

Photo

Looking Closer at How The Abominable Bride Foreshadowed and Can Be Used to Chronologically Decode Series 4:

In TAB –– right as Sherlock is experiencing the absolute worst part of his nightmare –– Sherlock imagines John showing up to save the day, as Sherlock realizes that the only way he’s able to defeat Moriarty is if he opens up to John and lets him in. For the entire episode, Sherlock has been so afraid to communicate with John in order to protect him, which has just been repeating his mistakes of the past and putting him in danger. Here, finally, at the end of the road, Sherlock imagines a brighter future. By openly letting himself love John here, Sherlock has won.

In TFP –– right as John is in the middle of the worst part of his nightmare story scenario –– John writes a scene where Sherlock has to lie to his self-insert Molly about loving her and manipulate her into confessing it back in order to save her life (which was never in any danger). For the entire series and episode John has been torn between whether or not Sherlock is truly capable of romantic feeling or not. By letting himself love Sherlock, and letting Sherlock lie about loving him back, they’ve lost, and succeeded in nothing but hurting each other.

[Continue below the cut for more ➤]

See also: 10 Revealing Things From The Six Thatchers That Haunt You Late At Night, 10 Revealing Things From The Lying Detective That Haunt You Late At Night, and 10 Revealing Things From The Final Problem That Haunt You Late At Night. (#tw suicide)

Bonus: Regression.

“He doesn't have friends. So who are you?”

“I'm... I'm nobody. I just met him.”

"Okay, bit of advice then: stay away from that guy.”

“Why?”

“You know why he's here? He's not paid or anything. He likes it. He gets off on it. The weirder the crime, the more he gets off. And you know what? One day just showing up won't be enough. One day we'll be standing round a body and Sherlock Holmes'll be the one that put it there.”

If this didn’t make John question his attraction to Sherlock the day they met, then hearing it from his own mouth did the trick. Once the idea exists, it cannot be killed.

“I'm not a psychopath, Anderson. I'm a high-functioning sociopath. Do your research.”

This scene in TFP is the realization of John’s greatest fear. John, who is in remarkably similar circumstances when we met him in the opening of the show; unmarried, practical about death, and alone, as Sherlock deduces from the coffin in TFP.

John, who only married someone as a comfort and escape after the love of his life died, whose entire relationship was built on a lie and a facade, who he emotionally cheated on and invented a storyline to cover it, who tried to kill his spouse after it turned out her love for him was part of an ulterior motive, and who’s being haunted by her.

John, who was considering suicide before he met Sherlock, who kept a gun in his desk drawer but found a purpose for it by saving his life at the end of ASIP (“I mean, suicide is pretty common among city boys,” John suggests during a case in TBB), and who’s now being haunted by the ghost of his wife and is shot at the end of TLD.

John, who’s lived his entire life alone and isolated from loving other people, whose affection for Sholto didn’t go anywhere because he was too closed off, who couldn’t even admit to his therapist that the love of his life died, much less say the words out loud, and who truly believes it to be absolutely impossible for Sherlock to love him back, if he’s even capable of that at all.

John does not really know. He has no idea that he means the world to Sherlock. He has no idea how deeply Sherlock is in love with him. He has no idea what Sherlock has done to protect him. He almost had an idea; during the ending of TSOT, they both knew, and they knew that the other knew too. But when HLV rolled around, Sherlock resorted to his old habits; he lied to John about what happened in Magnussen’s office in order to protect him from Mary, like he lied to him in order to protect him from Moriarty. In John Yorke’s 3-D Roadmap of Change, part of his Five Act Structure, this is called “Experimenting Post-Knowledge”.

This is what Sherlock learns from at the end of TAB; by not communicating with John, he put both of them in danger of the bride. By allowing John in, by letting both of them love each other, even calling him handsome, Sherlock is able to envision a brighter future for the two of them, which is only possible if they not only work together but admit how they feel to each other. Sherlock knows what to do now, which is why Sherlock and John are working together in series 4 to take down Mary, but he still hasn’t told John his biggest secret.

By lying to John in HLV and isolating them from each other again, with John taking back Mary (in order to take her down) the show entered act four, the act of doubt, growing reluctance, regression, and the crisis point. Acts one and four John are in a similar place; after all the time he’s spent with Sherlock, after everything they’ve gone through together, John is going to go through hell through one simple dilemma, the same one he’s been faced with since the beginning: does Sherlock love anyone, or not? Could he love me?

John is the author of series 4. John’s story is a dark mirror and denial of the future that Sherlock’s dream offers. Eurus, the overseer of the “I love you” test, is also John’s dark mirror.

“Professor, if you wouldn’t mind stepping away from my friend, I believe he finds your attention a shade annoying,” John says at the end of TFP. “It’s for somebody who loves Sherlock. This is all about you, everything here,” Mycroft says about the coffin in TFP. Sherlock’s dream, John’s story –– they are both about each other. They are both all about trying to understand each other. All of this, this entire relationship, all the years they’ve wasted pining after each other, could have been changed by resolving a miscommunication they had in ASIP. “Girlfriend? No, not really my area.”

In TAB, John retorts Moriarty by saying, “There’s always two of us. Haven’t you read the strand?” In ASIP, John says, “You’re unattached. Like me. Fine. Good.” These are both echoed in John’s depiction of Sherlock deducing the coffin in TFP: unmarried, practical about death, alone. John tries to deflect more of his jealousy of Irene here (and subsequently, through his association of her and him being sociopaths, his jealousy of Mary and Sherlock), but instead pulls from someone he knows is in the same boat as him: Molly Hooper. In a sequence already full of emotional callbacks, John is recalling what happened to him just two episodes ago and applying it to Molly; when he was marching around his own house while ignoring Sherlock’s calls.

“Thank you John,” Sherlock says to John for saving him from Moriarty. “Since when do you call me John?” His John asks. In this dream, in this time period, when gay love had to be hidden and private, first names are personal. First names are used for loved ones and spouses. Sherlock is really imagining John asking, since when have you felt that way about me? Since when have you loved me? “You’d be surprised,” Sherlock says. Since the night they met. “No, I wouldn’t,” John responds, because Sherlock knows John has loved him since then too. This is Sherlock’s love confession to John, in his own mind, and it’s only in this moment are they safe from Moriarty.

But John could not be more completely opposite of where Sherlock is emotionally. John has no idea. He wouldn’t just be surprised; he would be shocked and devastated Sherlock has known for so long. He can’t believe it, even though he knows after TSOT. Rather then John confessing that he loves Sherlock in his story, he writes his scenario as an experiment, a callback to multiple instances of Sherlock toying with John’s emotions. “Oh God. It was you. You locked me in that bloody lab.” “I had to, it was an experiment.” “An experiment?!” This was also after John had accepted Sherlock’s invitation to continue working together earlier in the episode. Every time that Sherlock seems to show genuine emotion to John, he does something that makes him question that again. “Listen, what I said before, John. I meant. I don’t have friends. I’ve just got one,” Sherlock says in THOB. “No, I know you're not an experiment, you're my friend,” he says to Molly in TFP.

John’s self-insert Molly is furious and humiliated at Sherlock asking her to say those words to him. “Leave me alone. Why are you doing this to me?! Why are you making fun of me?!” When Sherlock says its part of an experiment without thinking (because he’s busy trying to save her life, or John’s life, as so often their miscommunication goes), Molly bitterly replies, “I’m not an experiment, Sherlock.”

This is John talking. This is John talking to Sherlock, through Molly.

Sherlock’s love for John continues to shine through after he confesses he loves him like a husband. “Time you woke up Sherlock. I’m a storyteller, I know when I’m in one.” “Of course. Of course you do, John.” Sherlock is imagining a John that’s on the same page as him, who understands why he’s made all of the decisions he’s made, why Sherlock devised this convoluted dream scenario to work out his own fears and desires, and a John who’s aware enough of Sherlock’s feelings to talk to him like this. Again, this John is only able to exist after Sherlock lets him in and confesses he loves him. For most of the episode, John and his blog are not on the same page as how Sherlock feels. This is him dealing with his guilt post-Reichenbach.

“Two years. Two years. I thought... you were dead. Hmm? Now, you let me grieve, hmm? How could you do that? How?” John asks him in TEH. This guilt and anger are echoed in Sherlock’s dream and John’s story, as Sherlock suffers a relapse in both of them. “No, I just said that in one of your stories.” Sherlock is afraid that John won’t love him if Sherlock doesn’t live up to the image that John has of him. “You lie all the time, it’s like your mission!” John yells at Sherlock in TLD. This line on its face doesn’t really make any sense, and John’s Sherlock thinks he’s just talking about Reichenbach, but John is talking about everything: every emotion that Sherlock feels and performs, his relationship with John, all of which John fears is one big lie. He’s afraid that he really is a sociopath. In TEH, Sherlock is speechless and unable to provide an answer to John, because he was so in denial about the decision he made, he was repressing his own emotions in order to keep John safe. In TFP, John’s Sherlock insists that Molly can tell him anything as a flashing red Moriarty flares up in his face. To Sherlock in this scenario, Molly can’t really tell him. John can’t really tell him. And if they do, it’s only because Sherlock is manipulating them into doing so, even if its for unselfish reasons, and in the end, Sherlock doesn’t get why he just can’t tell him.

“Please don’t do this. Just… just… don’t do it. I can’t say that, I can’t… I can’t say that to you.”

After beating Moriarty in TAB, Sherlock and John are just flirting in front of him. They’re sweet and affectionate with each other in a way that the present day hasn’t caught up to yet. But in TEH, Sherlock mocked John for talking about how he felt, and notes there’s an off switch for the bomb. If we understand the subway bomb, found on Sumatra road, the alternate retelling of the tragic tale of Samarra where the merchant is actually able to escape death, as the love confession, both of their confessions, it’s reiterated that Sherlock is the one in control, he has to say it first, because John has no off switch. “I find it difficult, this sort of stuff.” “You were the best and the wisest man... that I have ever known. Yes, of course I forgive you.” This is also something that’s echoed in series 4, most notably with Culverton. “What is the very worst thing you can do to your very best friends? Tell them your darkest secret. Because if you tell them and they decide they'd rather not know, you can't take it back. You can't unsay it. Once you've opened your heart, you can't close it again.” This is also reiterated later in the episode, “I never realized confessing would be so enjoyable. I should have done it sooner,” and “Apparently he can’t stop confessing.”

When Sherlock says there’s an off-switch on the bomb, he’s unintentionally signaling to John that he has an off-switch for his emotions because he faked his performance in the subway car, because he doesn’t feel things that way, because he really might be a sociopath –– so it’s fitting that the entire scenario in which John imagines Sherlock manipulating Molly into confessing the truth is based around a bomb, and not just that, but a bomb that wasn’t going to go off. Molly is even wearing her cardigan from TEH, and the scene where Sherlock accidentally called her John. “Please, John, forgive me,” Sherlock begs John in TEH. “Please, just say it,” Sherlock begs Molly in TFP. I can’t, because, it’s true, because it’s always been true, John says through Molly. I can’t say it. It has to be a trick –– so you have to say it to me first before I can believe you, and know it’s not a trick. “Go on. You say it first.” All of this while the counter to bombs that aren’t going to go off depletes (and in John’s dream, funnily enough, don’t even exist, it doesn’t make sense because it’s not real). But it still is a trick.

“You see, as long as there’s people, there’s always a weak spot,” Sherlock tells John when manipulating Janine to get into Magnussen’s office, surprising her with a proposal ring. John is completely devastated –– already confused after thinking Sherlock loved him at the end of TSOT, after seeing him with Janine a month into his unhappy marriage, and now seeing him lie to her face –– staring at him utterly heartbroken. “Sherlock, she loves you,” John pleads. I love you. Would you do that to me? Would you trick me into thinking that you love me? Do you even feel love at all? “Yes. As I said, human error.” Sherlock’s pressure point is named as John later in the episode, and John almost believes Sherlock cares about him again... but when Sherlock shoots Magnussen at the end of HLV, he says, “Give my love to Mary,” and John isn’t just back to square one for the 100000000th time, he’s regressing. “But why would he care? He’s Sherlock. Who would he bother protecting?”

While in TAB, Sherlock is progressing further than John could ever dream. John simply kicks Moriarty over the water like it was barely a concern, and John and Sherlock are together at last. The danger of Moriarty is gone. They can finally be together.

John is still on the opposite end of the spectrum, and in more complicated ways than we’ve seen thus far. John himself is seen in a shot with the coffin in the background as he watches Sherlock and Molly play out his tragic dream scenario –– John will take his secret to his grave. He would quite literally rather die than tell Sherlock that he loves him, as evidenced by his only halfway-confession in TEH. But as Sherlock and Molly tell each other, “I love you,” and the counter stops, Eurus tells Sherlock that he didn’t really win her test. There were no explosives in her home; there was never any danger, no danger beyond the damage that they just did to each other.

This feels so wrong because it is wrong; this should be the moment where John and Sherlock confess to each other. It feels so torturous because John is pulling deeply from his own experiences as the author; this should be a cathartic and transcendent moment with Sherlock facing John, but instead they’re 180 degrees apart again. This makes no sense because it’s not real, because we had to see just how wrong the wrong solution was before we were presented with the right one... which is ironic considering series 4 is the show’s own dark mirror of itself, and John is only able to tell himself all of this through talking through a mirror and through Sherlock talking to a mirror.

John has always wanted to face Moriarty with Sherlock, which is something Sherlock has never really understood, not even by the end of TAB. John was willing to die with him at the end of TGG if it meant taking Moriarty out. John wanted to be in on the secret that Sherlock was still alive, he wanted to know. He wanted to act. John does not see the danger in him and Sherlock working together against Moriarty as a deterrent, because he’s willing to face it together. Sherlock is not, or was not –– Sherlock wanted to defeat Moriarty on his own without letting John know how he felt and coordinating with him. Even after coming to his realization in TAB, we know from the real events of series 4 that while John and Sherlock are working together, Sherlock hasn’t let John in on his final secret, and the one that really matters to John. In this scenario in TFP, John is acknowledging that Sherlock has been acting in series 1-3, to a degree, under the threat of danger towards himself through his self-insert Molly, but ultimately concludes that that danger was never really there in the first place, and that Sherlock could have told him what was going on all along and he would’ve been fine. But by not doing that, Sherlock has hurt John, over and over again in the callbacks present in this scene, more than John thinks Moriarty ever could have. Sherlock wanted to protect John by isolating himself, but John wanted to face the danger together. Sherlock knows that John loves him, but John doesn’t know Sherlock loves him back. “You didn't win, you lost. Look what you did to her. Look what you did to yourself. All those complicated little emotions, I lost count.”

Sherlock will never love him back. John will remain in the same boat as Molly. John feels that for certain now. That’s why right after this scene John suddenly imagines a scenario where he needs to know why Sherlock is the way he is and why he’s so closed off, offering his own explanation. This final confirmation sends John on a nosedive, as TFP begins its last downwards, death spiral, preceded only by John writing about how much he wants to die.

“Now, for once in your life, do the right thing. Put this stupid little man out of all our misery. Shoot him!”

“Stop it.”

“Look at him. What is he? Nothing more than a distraction, a little scrap of ordinariness for you to impress, to dazzle with your cleverness. You'll find another.” (But then people do get so sentimental about their pets) After this, Sherlock holds the gun to his own head, in an episode already containing suicide references, in act four of the show, in act four of series, as John is back to the same place he was in act one, unmarried, practical about death, and alone, before falling into complete darkness.

223 notes · View notes

jojuarez26 · 7 years

Text

The calm before the storm part 9

Divergent fanfiction: Eric/OC

Adult content and strong language

I own nothing of Divergent

@pathybo @tigpooh67 @ljvosscmt @frecklefaceb @kiiiimberlyriiiicker1995 @kenzieam @sparklemichele @lunaschild2016 @ariwolff14 @mom2reesie @beautifulramblingbrains @clublulu333 @emmysrandomthoughts @iammarylastar @readsalot73 @angolodiparadiso @dani5102 @jaihardy

The alarm is blaring as Eric all but pounds it off the nightstand. Two hours of sleep is just not enough. Not to mention in seventy-two hours or less the inevitable is to happen. He'd rather stay in bed wrapped around Beth. But that is going to happen.

With a agrivated huff he starts coffee and gets in the shower. Last night's meeting running threw his hand on replay over and over again. He and his band of misfit divergents had a job to do. Each had a role to play. Tris was up first.

He sat at the table with coffee in a cup and his head in his hands deep in thought. He actually jumped when a hand touched his shoulder.

"Hey. You alright," Beth asked quietly. As he raised his head to look at her it was like traveling back in time.

He remembered the fifteen year old girl in nothing but his blue button up shirt smiling as he kissed her goodbye the morning of his choosing ceremony. Now stood the twenty year old soon to be mother of his child in nothing but his black t-shirt looking concerned.

"Fine," he lied running a hand down her cheek. How was he supposed to do this? She had been the only constant in his life since he was eleven.

"Your lieing skills suck today. You know that right?" Beth smiled as tears gathered in her eyes. What he wouldn't do to make them go away.

"I have to go soon. Christina will be by later. A little gift to say I love you. Promise me you won't leave today? I have meals being sent up and Lynn will bring you all the cake and pickles you want. Just call her."

She tried her best not to look as sad as she felt. When had it all come to this.

"Eric I-" he cut Beth off by kissing her.

"I'll be back as soon as I can," Eric abruptly stood and walked out without looking back. He couldn't or she would have seen the glistening he was holding back knowing that her spa day had ulterior motives for what was to come.

"Stiff," Eric barked entering Tris's office. She looked up rolling her eyes.

"Yes Eric. It's taken care of. Chris will be there at eleven. She has her instructions and just thinks you're fucking weird," she answered.

He gave a curt nod of his head and turned to go but stopped abruptly.

"Thank you Tris," Eric bit out sounding slightly unsure of himself for the first time to her.

"You're welcome Eric," she smiled. He just nodded his head and stormed out on to his next destination.

Right at eleven there was a knock at the door. Beth opened it to a beaming Christina. Who had a case full of her salon equipment. She hugged Beth hard as the door shut behind her.

"Hey beautiful I've missed you. How are you? Being back with Eric and all?"

Beth just smiled afraid to open her mouth. Her thoughts had been all over the place since Eric had left that morning. She could tell how upset he was even though he had tried hard to hide it.

"Good," was all she finally managed to get out.

"Well your about to feel great. A new style and a mani-pedi is what you're about to get today! Although can I just say Eric is weird as hell." Christina laughed.

Beth titled her head curiously. "Agreed. But what for this time?" Beth asked her curiosity on full display.

"He wants me to save all the hair and nail clippings. He said as a keepsake. What the hell is that about?"

Beth wondered the same thing but simply answered " weird fetish. It's an Erudite thing."

Beth could tell her friend wasn't buying it, but she let it go.

Two hours later her waist length auburn hair was mid way up her back. Her nails where black with a sparkly blue over lay and her toes the opposite. Christina had also done her make up for her.

"Damn girl you look hot!! We should go down to Eric's office and show you off!"

Beth just laughed and shook her head.

"Eric is in meetings all day. Besides Lynn will be here soon for lunch. You can stay if you like."

"No. I can't. I'm meeting Will for lunch. But don't be a stranger just because your back with Senor psychopath ok?"

"He's not that bad!," Beth laughed. "Well maybe, but not to me." She corrected still laughing.

"Take care of yourself yeah. I worry about you lately Beth. Don't be a stranger."

"Thank you," Beth said quietly hugging Christina tightly. For the first time she realized how much this whole situation was going to affect everyone. Not just Eric and herself.

"One day damn it!! That's all I am asking for Max. Nobody fucking questioned it or objected to it when you took one before Ariel came up "missing in action" " Eric air quoted as he agrued with Max.

Six months prior Jeanine insisted Max's eldest daughter Ariel was becoming a problem and therefore must be eliminated. Eric sent out on patrol and she just never came back. Never to be seen or heard from again. Everyone assumed Eric had her killed. In reality she was now safe amongst the factionless.

Two days before Max had took a personal day. He had spent it at home with his family. With Ariel.

"Eric believe me I understand, however-." Eric cut him off.

"You don't understand dick. Because if you did you would grant my request. No hesitation, no questions asked," he seethed.

Max flinched slightly. He wanted to just give into to Eric's request. However it wasn't that simple. Jeanine was watching the whole situation very closely. Eric was her best soldier, she intended to make sure NOTHING, or NO-ONE was going to get in the way of that. She had something on everyone, that's how she got her way. If this wasn't handled she threatened to have Max's job.

"Give me three hours of your time tomorrow and the rest is yours, on one condition," Max said carefully.

"What?" Eric growled lowly.

"The mission is complete within twenty-four hours of the time you leave tomorrow."

Eric gritted his teeth and tried like hell to restrain his temper. It wasn't Max's fault. He knew that. It didn't curve his desire to pummel his face in any less. His head throbbed as he clenched his fist.

"Fine," was all he managed before abruptly leaving his superiors office slamming the door so hard pictures fell off the wall. Max just shook his head. At least he still had his wife and two other children. Once Beth was gone Eric had nothing, nobody. The cruel, ruthless leader was about to get a whole lot worse, Max was not looking forward to it.

Eric found a spot off camera in a side hallway before he pulled out a burner phone he had had his secretary purchase. Each individual in on his plan had one as well. With a heavy heart he sent out his message.

The plan will going into affect in forty-eight hours. Everyone must be ready. Don't fuck it up. Delete after reading.

He received six thumbs up signs almost immediately then deleted all communication. He knew he could trust them all. Everyone adored Beth. They would gladly put their lives on the line to protect her. However for the first time he was nervous. He had done dozens of extraction missions in the last two years and never broke a sweat. None of them however had been this personal. Beth and their child was Eric's whole world. If this mission went south.... He couldn't even think about it. After several minutes of pulling himself together he headed to the canteen to grab none other than pickles and chocolate cake. The older woman who worked the line gave Eric a quizzical look.

"What the hell are you looking at?" He deadpanned with an evil look on his face.

The woman just smiled and said one word. "Congratulations."

He felt his stomach drop as he just stared at her. His mind raced a hundred miles a minute. In the end Eric did what he did best.

"Fuck off nosy old bitch," he whispered coldly. She just sighed and walked away. This wasn't good. The only people aware of Beth's pregnancy was his team, Johanna and of course that bitch Jeanine.

The pregnancy was going to be the spin off as to why Beth would ever jump into the chasm. The story would be told she found out she was pregnant and Eric rejected her saying he didn't want children. Being heart broken she jumped. The story wouldn't hold water if people realized he already knew before she jumped. He quickly grabbed a container hiding what he had picked up. He also stopped on his way and paid a dependent twenty-five points to go in and purchase black hair dye for him. Luckily dependents where terrified of him and enjoyed free points. No questions where asked.

He entered the apartment exhausted physically and mentally. Eric had never felt the feelings that where surging threw him. It didn't set well. He hated the unknown. Actually he feared it. It was part of his fear landscape.

"Beth. Bella where are you?" Eric felt a slight panic when he didn't see or hear her.

"Beth?! Elizabeth?!," he marched to the bedroom and swallowed the lump in his throat. There she laid, peacefully sleeping sprawled across the bed. She had her head on his pillow and was curled up with one of his sweaters. A heavy wave of sadness spread threw him. Guilt. This was his fault. He should have stood up to Jeanine years ago. As if she felt his presence Beth began to stir.

Eric sat on the bed and ran a hand threw her significantly shorter hair. It felt thicker and fuller. He twirled in his fingers. Slowly Beth's eyes fluttered open. She smiled brightly at him wrapping her arms around his waiste.

"I missed you." She whispered breathily. Eric smiled.

"Me too." He couldn't get much else out. Beth's smile faltered slightly as she pulled him closer to her.

"Lay down with me," she pouted out her lip as she spoke.

"I brought you cake and pickles," he smirked.

"As tempting as that sounds, right now I just want you," she purred still pulling him closer.

"I'll make you a deal. Come eat. Marlene will be here to draw some blood soon. I don't want you light headed. After she leaves, we get comfy and watch whatever you want. Even if it is some sappy love bullshit."

"Why is Marlene coming to draw blood?" Of course out of everything said she only wanted to pick up on that.

"Bella, can you just trust me? How about we watch Fried Green Tomatoes? You love that sappy, silly fucking movie."

Beth sighed. Of course he was trying to avoid the question and this was his way of saying the topic wasn't up for discussion.

"I always trust you Eric. I always will. We can eat then we can watch Silver Linings Playbook," Beth winked.

Eric groaned. Secretly he didn't really mind that movie, but he would never admit it. He held his hand out to pull up off the bed.

"Come on brat. Let's go eat."

#jai courtney #eric insurgent #divergent eric #eric coulter

34 notes · View notes