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rindamema · 5 years ago

Text

₊˚.༄ EMOTIONAL CONTEXT, I.

note: i do not own the summarization of pride and prejudice mentioned below! credits to the original owner.

Word Count: a lot.

BASED ON: The Great Game by Nellblazer on AO3 ,, https://archiveofourown.org/works/15674187

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

“MUM!” You whined through the phone, as you hear the tuts and clattering on the other line. You sighed softly to yourself, rubbing your palm across your face, as you leant back on the wall.

“I don’t want to hear it, Y/N.” You made a face at your mother’s response. She definitely could’ve done better with that.

“Couldn’t you let your other children relay that message to Sherlock? And obviously, by other children I mean your eldest.” You mumble, kicking the invisible dust under you, as you cross an arm in front of you.

“He hasn’t been answering my calls.” Your mother reprimands your father in the background, as you curse under your breath.

“I’m not so sure he’d be thrilled to see me, Mummy.” You drawl, and she chuckles to herself.

“Nonsense, dear. What kind of brother doesn’t want to see his little sister?”

“Sherlock and Mycroft.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes. It was no surprise that your brothers and yourself didn’t get along. Whenever you three got together, it was always explosive ( mostly on your side, since you’re the closest child to normal in the Holmes family ) and somebody always ended up hurt. You didn’t know if your mother erased that from memory deliberately or not, but you didn’t take to seeing your brothers very well.

“Just give them a chance, Y/N. It’s been awhile, after all. Surely they’ve changed their minds.”

“Mum, it’s like you don’t know your children at all. Sherlock and Mycroft aren’t exactly dynamic characters.” You mumble, frowning a bit. It was infuriating being in the presence of those machines. They were always so insensitive, and you were always so emotional. Especially since your older sister was died. She was supposed to be there for you. You were only a year old when she was taken away. You could tell she wasn’t in an orphanage. Uncle Rudy wasn’t exactly the most subtle person in the world. But what would you know, right? You were a child. A stupid three year old who couldn’t deduce like your other siblings.

“Give them a chance, lovie. Here, your dad wants to talk to you.”

“Y/N, love?” You hear on the other line, and a small smile makes its way to your face.

“Hello, Daddy.” You were always quite the daddy’s girl. You weren’t as clever as your siblings, but what you didn’t have intellectually, you made up for emotionally. You had the highest emotional quotient in comparison to all three of them. You were the most sympathetic. But to a group of clever misfits, it didn’t seem like they had so much use of you, so they pushed you out of the way.

“How have you been?” He asked. He always cared about you in a way no one did. It wasn’t that you didn’t love your mother; you did, very much. Your father was just more sensitive towards your feelings. He wanted to understand you and made an effort to do it. He was a simple man. Your mother was a mathematician, while he was the sane one. At least, you two are.

“Good.”

“That’s it? No fun stories for me now, is it?” You chuckled softly, shaking your head, before you heard him sigh in the other line.

“I hope you aren’t overworking yourself, darling.” You ran a hand through your brunette waves, scratching your head.

“I’m not, I promise. Can you please convince Mummy to reconsider? I don’t want things to escalate like last time.” You murmured, your face down and different from the usual indifferent look on your face.

“I’ll try, N/N. But ... in case I won’t be able to do it, I think it’s for the best that you reach out to your brothers first. God knows they won’t.” The two of you share a soft laugh, as you cracked a small, sad smile.

“You’ve always been the most mature out of all of you. You’re the one who keeps them in check. They need you, Y/N. You just have to trust yourself.” You feel the warm, unshed tears pool in your eyes, before a hot tear streaked against your cheek which you wiped off as fast as it came.

“Daddy, I don’t want to hurt them again.” Your voice wavered, and your lips quivered. You couldn’t go through that again. It’s the reason you stayed away from them in the first place.

“You’re not going to hurt them, N/N. I know you won’t.” You could definitely go for a hug from your father right now, but unfortunately you were too far away from him. Too far.

“How do you know?”

“Because I know you. I know what’s in your heart. You’ll never hurt them on purpose. You’re my angel, remember?” You could tell he was trying to cheer you up, and you felt your heart rate quicken. You know you were close to bursting into tears, but you couldn’t. Not now.

“I love you, Daddy. I’ll see you soon.”

“Love you too, Angel. Stay safe.” You smiled lightly to yourself and turned off your phone.

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

“Pride and Prejudice.” Your voice rings throughout the classroom as you place your copy of the book on the mahogany table in front. You roll up the sleeves of your white long sleeves, writing the title of the book on the chalkboard.

“Santiago?” You turn to one of your students, who quickly stood up once her name was called.

“A romance novel of manners written in 1813 by Jane Austen. It centres around a dynamic main character named Elizabeth ‘Lizzy’ Bennet, and revolves around her struggle to find a compatible husband despite the obstacles presented by both social conventions and her own lack of self-awareness.” A smile makes its way to your face, as you look at her.

“Very good, Mika.” She smiles back, before sitting down. The class listens to you attentively, as you start speaking and going through the story.

“The main plot of Elizabeth’s path to marriage intersects closely with subplots focused on the love lives of other female characters. The plot structure is also shaped by its division into volumes. Pride and Prejudice was initially published in three volumes. In the first volume, the initial events of the plot focus on Jane’s attraction to Bingley, with Elizabeth’s interactions with Darcy and his gradual attraction to her functioning as secondary incidents. The major conflict in this first section of the novel centers on whether Jane and Bingley will be able to marry, since Darcy and Bingley’s sisters seem determined to keep them apart. Another conflict arises when Mr. Collins begins pursuing Elizabeth, and she is forced to reject him. These two initial conflicts are given some resolution at the end of the first volume, when Mr. Collins finally accepts defeat and marries Charlotte Lucas, and the Bingley family leaves Netherfield to return to London. This moment in the plot marks a low point, as it appears as though neither Bennet sister has much chance of getting married and that most people marry for money and status.” You spit out like quick fire. If there was one thing your brothers and yourself shared, is that when you were passionate about something, your brain whirred like an engine; a rocket out of control. It was like machinery. The gears turning in your head, and you couldn’t seem to keep a slower pace.

“Jane Austen used the pairing of two key words for the titles of both Pride and Prejudice and another of her novels, Sense and Sensibility. She had originally planned to call Pride and Prejudice “First Impressions.” The two key words she ended up highlighting in the final title are very important to the novel’s central themes and ideas. Their meanings were slightly different at the time Austen was writing. Pride or being proud was usually not a positive trait. Whereas today people tend to speak of being proud of hard work or some sort of accomplishment, in Austen’s time, being proud usually meant someone thought he or she was better than other people or was not open to interacting with different kinds of people. Prejudice tended to mean having a set idea about someone that was based on assumptions or preconceptions, rather than a person’s actual actions and characters. Today, prejudice may mean making judgments about someone based on, for example, their race or religion. But in Austen’s time, prejudice was usually more about basing judgments on reputation, gossip, or misunderstood actions.” You hummed, looking around. You knew your students had done their reading— after all, studying at Cambridge was no easy feat. They’d have to work hard to get where they were.

“But the main idea, the theme ... Kane?” The blonde stood up, staggering a bit at how fast he shot up out of his seat.

“The story includes themes of Love, Reputation, Class, Family, Integrity and Gender. As in every good love story, the lovers must elude and overcome numerous stumbling blocks, beginning with the tensions caused by the lovers’ own personal qualities.” You nod, satisfied with his answer as he sat down once more.

“I’m afraid I’m not the one who can do justice to this story. It is widely known that I haven’t been the luckiest person in love. Romance has never been my strong suit. When people ask me about it, my answer is always the same: ‘It must be in the genes’.” You heard soft laughs and chuckles at your words, and you smiled lightly, before catching a dark figure sitting at the back. Maybe someone was sitting in your class?

“Love comes to you in very mysterious ways. I’ve never experienced it first hand of course, but when you’ve found the one person who makes your heart beat faster than its ever done— provided you aren’t having any significant heart conditions— go after it. Chase it.”

“Elizabeth’s pride makes her misjudge Darcy on the basis of a poor first impression, while Darcy’s prejudice against Elizabeth’s poor social standing blinds him, for a time, to her many virtues. Of course, one could also say that Elizabeth is guilty of prejudice and Darcy of pride—the title cuts both ways.” You say, getting back on topic. You leant back on the side of the desk, waving your arms around as you explained it. You always did have a flair for the dramatics.

“The main idea of the story is this— to find love, one must overlook their own pride and or prejudice.” You finish, catching sight of the man in the suit at the back of the class, and shooting him a small smile.

“Any questions?” You ask, but you were met with a silent room.

“Good. I’ll see you all tomorrow at 3. Prepare your essays.” You dismissed your class, as you heard choruses of ‘Goodbye, Professor’ and ‘Bye, Miss Holmes’!

You arranged the objects at your desk, realizing that you weren’t alone soon when you found the mysterious man at the back smiling at you. There was something eerie in his eyes, but at the same time, it was oddly comforting.

“Hi. Can I ... help you?” You trailed off, an unsure smile on your face as you tilted your head at him. He was definitely an attractive man. His hair was slicked back, his clothes telling you he was rich, lived a luxurious life. His eyes were a deep, dark chocolate brown which held a story you wanted to know, but you were too prideful to ask about. He looked a little older than you, maybe two to five years.

“Calysta Y/N Starr Holmes.” He recited your full name, and you stared at him, bewildered. You’ve only ever introduced yourself as Y/N Holmes after all.

“H ... How did you—“

“Oh, don’t ask that, that’s boring.” He waved you off, and you furrowed your brows at him.

“What do you want.” You decided since you weren’t getting an answer out of him, you might as well just ask what he came here for. His eyes darkened, and he smiled at you, for some reason. The look on his face read ‘insanity’— he was a psychopath. But then again, sometimes you should look at the facts first before coming up with a good enough hypothesis.

“Oh, my little Y/N, now you’re asking the right questions.” His voice sang, as you looked at him, stance defensive now.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you, N/N.” Your name on his tongue rolled off perfectly, or at least to him it did.

“Holmes and Moriarty— well aren’t we just a power couple.” He beamed at you.

“Couple? We’re not a bloody couple. I don’t even know who in god’s name you are!” You snapped, and he tutted at you.

“Feisty little minx. If Sherlock doesn’t get you soon, I’ll have to keep you all to myself.” At the mention of your brother, your eyes widened as you looked at him, then the rage inside you fueled you to do what happened next.

“Don’t you dare lay a hand on him.”

“Since when were you so protective of your older brother, N/N? Look what he did to you.” He circled you like you were his prey. You felt so small. You wanted to break free.

“He didn’t do anything to me. I did this to myself.”

“Tut tut.” He shook his head, examining you further and you felt so ... exposed under his gaze.

“I wonder how pretty you’d look on my bed.”

“You wish.” You responded, rolling your eyes, as he laughed a little too loud for comfort.

“Playing hard to get, I see?”

“I’m not interested, Moriarty.” You spoke, putting your coat on, before he grabbed your arm.

“Let go, or you’ll regret it.”

“Mm. Make me.” He grinned like a mad man, but it didn’t take long till you socked him in the face and you drew blood on his cheek from your ring. He was delighted, ecstatic. He wiped the blood with his thumb, and stepped towards you, boxing you against the chalkboard.

“You’re good.” He murmured, sniffing you as he buries his head in the crook of your neck. You pushed him away quickly, feeling violated.

“What the f*ck do you want?” You repeated, breath heavy as you stared him down. He sighs wistfully, almost liking the attention as he presses a soft kiss to your lips.

“You.”

─── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

You blinked the grogginess away, looking around at the empty place. It was slowly coming into focus, but it couldn’t come soon enough.

“Good morning, sunshine.” You rolled your eyes at his words, as you listened to him chuckle. You continued to flutter your eyelids, trying to shake off the sleepiness. Of course you were drugged, why else would he kiss you?

Well, then again, he is a bloody psychopath, so you couldn’t be too sure.

“I have to say, Moriarty, you’ve outdone yourself. You’ve practically proved every super villain trope that ever existed.” You sighed, your wrists strapped to the desk chair as you sat beside a pool. He wasn’t going to ... drop you in, was he? Nope.

You saw the blinking lights on your chest and knew it could only mean one thing.

He was going to blow you up.

You could’ve sworn that you heard him growl at your words, but he was nowhere in sight. That was until you caught sight of a speaker. A PA system. Neat.

Left. Camera. Obviously, he’d need to keep an eye on you.

“Shut up and keep quiet. You’re going to want to hear this.” Ringing. A phone ringing. Then a voice.

“Hello? Who is this?” Your eyes blew wide at the familiar voice. You knew exactly who it was.

“Uh uh, no talking.” You could practically hear the smile in his voice, as he responded.

“Hello, Sherly.” You leant back on your desk chair. God, you should’ve known. Of course your brother did something to attract the wrong people. It’s not as if it was any different when the two of you were in Uni.

“Moriarty.” The soft baritone of your brother rung out all through the pool area, as you bit the inside of your cheek impatiently. You were struggling to keep yourself seated, and for god’s sake for a second you thought of maybe throwing yourself into the pool.

“I have something of yours you might want back, Sherlock.”

“Where?”

“The pool. 7pm, don’t be late.” You heard a clicking sound, and that was the end of it. You stared blankly at the large pool before you saw the camera shake from left to right.

“I can see you want to do it, Y/N. You shouldn’t. Otherwise, it’s going to be very hard for you and your brother. You care about him, don’t you?” You kept your mouth shut, as you stared at the water. You kicked off your heels, using your toes to move closer to the edge.

“It’s a dangerous game, you’re playing here, my star.” You dipped your toes into the chlorine water, relaxing a bit.

“It’s what keeps you interested, isn’t it? Dangerous games.” You responded, looking straight at the camera. It was silent for a few seconds before he replied.

“Do try not to fall in. I wouldn’t want to have to fish you out only to blow you up.” You chuckled softly to yourself, shrugging your shoulders.

“Getting sentimental already, Moriarty?”

“Jim, darling please. And no, just trying to keep up dramatics.”

“Of course. A drama queen meets another. How typical.” You crossed your legs, flexing your toes and your fingers as you leant back on the chair. It had pretty good lumbar support, really. You might as well take it to school.

“Indeed. What fun would it be to have a mind like mine all alone?”

“And you think my brother is able to provide ... the entertainment you need, is that it?”

“On the contrary, my dear, I think you’re the perfect candidate to spend my time on. Sherlock has John, and I’ve always been talking about how I wanted a live - in one.” You hummed, running over the top half of your teeth with your tongue before popping your lips.

“The question is if I’d agree to it.”

“Oh, honey, I don’t think you have a choice.” You kept quiet after that. A few minutes later, the system comes on with a ringing for an announcement. How comical.

“Let’s play a game, Y/N. Just you and me.”

“What kind?”

“I want to see what you can do. I want to make you dance. I want to make you ... mine.”

*.·:·.☽✧ ✦ ✧☾.·:·.*

⁀➷ TAGS:

@marvel-imagines-yes-please

( to be part of the taglist for emotional context, feel free to dm me or reach out! i’d be happy to slide you in. if you’d like it permanent with all my stories, i’d be happy to put you on permanently as well. ciao! )

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