Tag: mormor

nixiesaurus:

James never wore his.  That was the thing about being the world’s only consulting criminal, although no one ever saw his face, he still could show no weaknesses.  Instead, he kept the ring in his jacket pocket.  He pointed out Holmes’ ‘Browning AR-15’, knowing that Holmes’ handgun was in his pocket, just as James’ was (although still referencing some perverse sexual comment, as a Browning AR-15 is a large assault rifle).  The two men were really just alike.

Sebastian never took his off.  That was the thing about living in the shadows, sneaking about through London back alleyways.  No one ever saw him, so when he was alone in some empty construction site or abandoned flat complex, he would hum ‘The Itsy Bitsy Spider’ while spinning the band on his finger.

Sebastian wore his to show James Moriarty owned him.

James Moriarty never wore his to show that protecting Sebastian was his priority.

napoleongonewrong:

“April 20, 2012, 16:00.

“When I found him, the expanse of his back had been transformed into a giant canvas of red, oozing welts. His face was rather like one might expect of an animal forced to go through regular dog fights.

“He had this half dead look in his eyes. As if someone had tried very hard to break him, but hadn’t quite succeeded.

“He looked at me and then he looked right past me. Didn’t say a word, didn’t acknowledge my presence but for the slight widening of his eyes as they passed over me.

“The terror was evident.

“He thought me a hallucination. And rightly so.

“As far as he had been concerned up until that point, I was dead.

“He took it to mean that they had finally broken through his psyche, and were already working on remodeling him.

“An understandable fear.

“We had to sedate him before he could be removed from the room to which he had been assigned. The nurse we dragged in to do it almost threw up halfway through. The smell of urine, excrement, and sickness was so pungent that her olfactory senses couldn’t handle it.

“If not for the gasmasks we had donned earlier, I suspect that she wouldn’t have been the only one.

“I carried him out myself. That was how weak his body had become. It hardly took effort to lift him into my arms, carrying his frail body out and to the cars. 

“I pressed him down into the backseat and tucked a blanket around his naked body.

“We went back inside once he had been collected. Everyone who wasn’t killed by the gas was slaughtered brutally. I made certain of it.

“It was revealed to be a trap.

“The Elder Holmes himself came to say hello as we were leaving. He seemed to think that he had caught me out with his great scheme.

“It was with a profound sense of pleasure that I drove a metal pipe through his heart.

“Sebastian woke up confused a few hours later. He referred to me continuously as ‘Holmes’, and seemed torn between complete — if not confused — subservience, and murderous rage towards me.

“The doctors were unable to treat him until he had settled down, which did not occur until I wrapped my arms around his body as best I could without aggravating the wounds, and whispered in his ear.

“I told him the things that Holmes never could have used, and he fell silent against me.

“A tear fell down his cheek, and he refused to release me while they worked.

“His shoulders shook in suppressed sobs as he stroked his hair. It wasn’t the pain, he said he couldn’t feel that anymore. He couldn’t pretend to not be a wreck, but he acted as if it wasn’t a concern, asking me when he could come back to work. Asking me if he still had a job.

“He shuddered as I kissed his forehead for the first time, and told him to sleep.

“He needed his rest, and I had a world to tear apart for what they did to him.”

Can’t Beat a Corley: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Moran

lifecrystals:

grandmoff:

At some point, Jim Moriarty decided he would like to be a king.

Not a king in the sense that he would have control over the losing of limbs and ultimately lives as well as the entire treasury of the town, though he bet what he was wearing right now that he could do that better than any man. No, Jim wanted to be a king in that he wanted the idolization that every king was adorned with. He wanted to be beloved by his people, but more specifically, one other person; his queen. Jim smiled as he imagined Sebastian’s face if he ever heard those words. 

Jim felt like that now, perched atop that throne like a bird of prey embellished with the crown, placed so gingerly upon his head. He waved the scepter around bashfully, the broken glass tinkling as he rearranged his feet. God ordinary people were boring, and slow. How long had he been sitting here, waiting? Posing was exhausting, he noted. If Sherlock were a police officer this would’ve been much more exciting.

But then again being a freelance is what gave him his utterly bold deductions – liberty will be the death of us, Jim chuckled.

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I LOVE IT WHEN I COME UP WITH STUFF AND PEOPLE FIC IT.  😀 😀 😀

Can’t Beat a Corley: Crouching Tiger, Hidden Moran

taggianto:

Halloween

“I have no idea how I let you talk me into this,” Sebastian said with a resigned sigh. This was an outright lie, because Sebastian knew exactly how Jim had talked him into standing shirtless in their bathroom while his husband drew stripes across his chest with a black eyeliner pencil. Sebastian had said no way, I am absolutely not, Jim had said yes you absolutely are, that’s an order, and that had been that.

“Hush. Every time you talk your chest moves.” Jim paused to run the eyeliner pencil through a small pencil sharpener, letting the shavings fall to the floor, no doubt for Sebastian to clean up once this humiliation was through. He brushed a few splinters from his white button-down shirt before continuing.

“Moves every time I breathe too, Jim. Want me to stop that as well?” He had a strong urge to cross his arms and glare, but that would mess up Jim’s canvas so he abstained.

“If you would be so kind,” Jim answered, his voice teasing and sweet. Sebastian just rolled his eyes, but he controlled his breathing nonetheless, taking slow, shallow breaths so as to minimize movement as much as possible. It was not unlike the steadying breathing patterns he fell into just before taking a shot.

Jim worked in silence for what seemed like an eternity, covering Sebastian’s bare torso in a maze of black stripes. Occasionally Sebastian would flinch as the sharp pencil point grazed a particularly sensitive area of skin, even though he was absolutely not ticklish. It actually didn’t look half bad, he found himself thinking after a while, staring at himself in the mirror as Jim moved on to striping his upper arms. He caught Jim’s eyes in the reflection; he was grinning that smug little smile of his. “What?”

“You’re right, you do look good,” Jim said. Sebastian narrowed his eyes. “Don’t give me that look, I saw you checking yourself out.” He set the pencil down on the countertop and slid a hand along Sebastian’s toned stomach, around his side and to his denim-clad ass, pulling teasingly at the fake tail clipped Sebastian’s belt. “Can’t say I blame you,” he murmured.

“Right. We done here or…?”

“Almost,” Jim said, ducking into the bedroom.

“Who’re you going as, anyway?” he called after him. Sebastian twisted and turned in the mirror as he waited for him to get back.

After a few minutes, Jim sauntered back in, fully dressed in a sharp black suit and sunglasses. “I thought that was obvious. I’m James Bond.” He smiled and held up the other thing he’d gone into the bedroom to get, Sebastian’s black leather collar and a length of chain.

Sebastian’s eyes widened. “No. Absolutely not, no way. Not in public.”

“Bastian,” Jim purred, “I can’t have a tiger running loose at a party. How irresponsible would that be? Imagine if someone were to get hurt.” A look of mock horror spread across his face.

Seeing as they were attending this costume party for the sole purpose of gathering information for an upcoming assassination anyway, Sebastian was none too amused with Jim’s tone. “Since when does James Bond have a pet tiger?”

“Since shut up and put it on,” he said, voice serious as he rattled the chain in Sebastian’s general direction. Sebastian sighed, but took the collar from Jim’s hands anyway. Jim would be paying for this later tonight, he knew, and he half expected that was rather the point.

He couldn’t deny the little thrill that coursed through his veins as he buckled the thick strip of leather around his own neck. Collared and shirtless in public with Jim holding the leash.

There were worse ways to spend an evening.

7ns:

I walk in with my crew and I’m breaking they necks
I’m looking all good, I’m making him wet
They pay me respect, they pay me in checks
And if he look good, he pay me in sex

You look so good for your Daddy Sebby, so good.

boffingbyron:

aspenaire:

we are your means to an end

part of the consulting crime series

#look at that subtle off-white colouring #the tasteful thickness of it #oh my god #it even has a watermark

#please      #as if Jim would let Seb be on the business card      #“No darling. It’s implied. When they see the card they just presume that I mean you as well. It’s a silent M”      #“Plus ‘Moriarty’ is just so much more streamlined and elegant.”      #“You do have a fucking awful name Seb dear”      #“And you can stop that. With the gun. You know it doesn’t impress me. How dull”      #sherlock