HIATUS

But then we have Louis—

Louis: " YOU HAVE NO RIGHT TO STAND THERE CLOSE TO MY BIG BROTHER'S PRESENCE. DON'T YOU KNOW SOCIAL DISTANCING?! AND COULD YOU STOP TOUCHING THAT GLASS WITH YOUR FILTHY HANDS, DO YOU KNOW HOW LONG DID I CLEAN THAT FINE CHINAWARE?!

Yeah, it doesn’t hurt at first, does it?

At first, it seems like a fun drama about some terrible antiheroes. Yay, eat the rich, yay kill all the bad people, it’s fun, it’s dramatic, it’s a bit violent and messy.

It’s about Moriarty! We know how that ends! The first page of the first panel is William hanging off a cliff at Reichenbach and yelling at Sherlock. We know how this is going to end.

That’s fine, he kinda deserves it. It’ll be fun to watch Sherlock defeat him.

And then Baskervilles happens, and we see Louis begging his brother to open up to him. They’re getting distant, aren’t they? And William reassures him no, no, of course no, we’re together all of the time, aren’t we? And Louis asks why he can’t help with William’s plan, then.

And William draws into himself, tells Louis that no, he wasn’t supposed to help, he wanted Louis’s hands free of blood, free to be human enough to survive into the better world William is creating, and as Louis tells William that without you, brother, I am worth nothing, you realize—oh. Oh, maybe there is some guilt and conflict here.

That’s even more fun!

So we move straight into Moran. Moran, who tells Moneypenny how none of House Moriarty is meant for happy endings. All of them do terrible things, involve themselves in a dark and violent life, and if they have good intentions, well whose the judge of what good intentions are anyway? They can only do what they think is right, and they will end life short and tragic and violently. They will all deserve it, they have all accepted that.

And you realize think, huh, well, that’s more complicated than I was expecting from a series like this…but you’re already five volumes in, so you might as well.

And then you get The Two Detectives, which so fun and zero angst, and you’re back into the swing of things! Until William meets Mycroft Holmes and tells him their plan, tells him about Robespierre becoming a tyrant that France united together to defeat, and offers his hand to Mycroft saying Let me be your tyrant. I will save this country as your tyrant. The name Moriarty will go down in infamy and the Moriarties will engineer their demise themselves, and no one else shall ever know of the sacrifice they made of themselves for their country.

Mycroft accepts, knowing that William has chosen Sherlock as his opponent, as his suicide weapon, as his deadlihood.

No one tell Sherlock, they all know. Sherlock wouldn’t want to know. Better to keep secrets from him to keep from burdening him with knowledge that would only hurt him. He adores Liam.

No one tell Sherlock.

Oh, but William adores Sherlock, too, doesn’t he? His peer, his equal, this protective man of good heart and disgust for the abuses of those with power.

Such a good opponent for The Crime Lord. Such a perfect mirror, such a light to William’s darkness, a hero for the villain.

Isn’t he perfect, William wonders?

No one tell Sherlock. He hates when you simply tell him things.

More murder. More death. They make a deal, but Sherlock knows, knows, knows he’s getting deeper, getting tangled in this web he cannot escape from, knows he’s chasing the crime lord and for once, the detective has to stop picking up the pieces afterward, for once the detective has to get ahead.

And so he goes to his brilliant, wonderful friend Liam for help, and chapter thirty one is the best day William “Liam” James Moriarty has ever had in his young life, a day spent solving mysteries and puzzling out intentions and debating the crime lord and working alongside Sherlock to secure a brighter future if only for a single soul.

And you realize this is all William longs for, all of it, just a simple life as a professor helping kids and solving mysteries in tandem with his equal.

But no.

No, he’s the Crime Lord now. He chose his fate. He can’t simply abandon it. He has higher purposes, more people to save than himself.

He can’t be that selfish.

And then he’s presented with an out, a Knight of Justice trying his damnedest to save the country, to grant it equality through normal means, through legislation, through The Process, and for a moment, you hope. Albert hopes, Louis hopes, Moran hopes, William perhaps hopes–but no.

No, this Knight of Justice, too, is forced into the darkness of murder and despair and his life becomes a sacrifice for the greater good of the country, too.

And it is all on William’s shoulders. And William, like him, knows that he deserves nothing more than a bitter, tragic death, with blood coating his hands so thickly he can’t see the skin.

Sherlock Knows. He knows everything.

Time to catch the Crime Lord, Sherlock. You’re running out of time. The government wants him dead without trial, without evidence. No one will mind. Not if it’s the Crime Lord.

Hurry up, Sherlock.

* long post; scattered nijiakas in the past month (or two); ft. delinquent au’s and then some.

I’m… barely alive LOL.

「おい！いい加減寝ろ…。いいよお前が眠るまで付き合ってやるよ…羊が151匹…羊が152匹…」 

[Few Years later]

Me: