So I discovered brown-mouse55 on DeviantArt and i just think that everyone should go see his/her page. I like how the drawing lines make me think about Jim’s madness.

1- Fairy Tales (the details please)
2- Reflection (the title speaks for itself)
3- Hush, Hush (probably my favorite cause I like to imagine that the two silhouettes in the background are Sherlock and John’s ones, looking for Jim, trying to arrest him. I like picturing Jim arguing, he would probably make a scandal about something absurd while Moran would see the two others and would decide to save their lives by making him shut up.)

random-nexus:

(For Lady-Karasu, who’s being so patient with that other story meant for her birthday, and who squeed with me over the ideas we both had when we saw this pic.)

Just Like Old Times

It had been months since the death of Sherlock Holmes, his memory thoroughly trashed, reputation in ruins, and yet everyone he’d cared about was alive and well to suffer for having known him.

Exactly according to plan. What hadn’t been according to plan was the other death on that rooftop. The one that Sebastian Moran actually gave a fuck about. That hadn’t been in the plan, nor the back-up plan, and certainly not the last-ditch emergency plan. Jim wasn’t supposed to sodding die, he was meant come down and join Sebastian in celebrating a victory. The plan absolutely did not include Seb watching Jim’s limp body being carried off the roof in a body bag by hospital staff.

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Oooh, I like this. (Like that’s a surprise?) I do love it when your muse takes over (clearly the ~~bribes~~ muse treats are working ^_^) Thank you, dear~ ❤

Day 10 – Not a Person

silverbit:

Title: Not a Person
Pairing: MorMor (Jim Moriarty and Sebastian Moran)
Word Count: 1,837
What the eff am I about to read: A little ficlet about de-stressing (Fluff, I showed Seb a little vulnerable yesterday I show Jim a little vulnerable today – KEEPIN’ IT EVEN)

For Of Tigers and Madmen – 30 MorMor Ficlets in 30 days for Nanowrimo so I apologize for the editing. Also I didn’t start writing till like 10 because I couldn’t think of what to write so that might be a good excuse too.

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Things had been – in a word – stressful this past week within the empire. No one weeps for the hard times of criminals but really it’s just frustrating when things don’t go to plan for anyone. Whether it’s a charity banquet falling apart around the caterer’s no show, or the fact that the guest speaker who was supposed to get a bullet in her temple, didn’t, because the charity banquet fell apart – there was always back lash. There were angry clients and contacts that needed to be reminded of their manners and he had to hire a new sniper after Dmitri didn’t think to find another shot for the woman at the charity banquet. Oh and shall it be mentioned there was now an investigation in Dmitri’s disappearance because apparently he’d started up with some panicky little bint who’d called the authorities when he’d been gone for over 24 hours. Not that they were going to turn up anything. But it was very annoying to have to pay an actor of Dmitri’s height and general appearance to go make purchase with his credit card in stores with grainy security cameras.

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blinkingsandbeepings:

“There are two kinds of men with power.” The low rumble of Sebastian’s voice was like velvet on his skin, Jim turned his head toward it even though he was blindfolded, seeking it out with all his senses.
“The kind that are terrified to have it stolen, terrified to be small again, the kind who are constantly climbing up on the shoulders of others screaming about their accomplishments, daring people to steal it back.” Sebastian was at the edge of the room now, so far away again, prowling tiger, teasing tiger, ‘goddamnit touch me already’ tiger.
“And then there are men who are confident in their power.” Jim can almost hear the fond smile between the cool assessing words as his voice came closer. An ache of need and strain grew between his thighs where a spreader bar kept his knees almost too far apart.
“Men who have kept their power so long and who know no one would dare try to take it from them. Men whose names are barely whispered amongst the rabble.” Sebastian’s hands, large and rough roamed Jim’s chest, over the soft leather of the harness and the smooth expanse of pale skin, and Jim would have keened from the contact if not for the gag. The touches brushed over him almost appraisingly, dragging over the patch work of leather straps and exposed flesh, over wiry muscle pulled taut and vibrating with anticipation.
“And eventually, they start to crave the idea of someone coming along -” Sebastian’s breath was in his ear now, hot and close and he could see the predatory smirk in his mind’s eye perfectly.
“-and taking it from them.”
Oh. God. Yes. Tiger.

This was something that was in my head for a while – you can have it 😀 Good job with the moving and stuff! I am so proud
<3Bitty

7ns:

http://grooveshark.com/songWidget.swf

Sometimes Sebastian would still wake up and feel him there, staring, smiling underneath his arm. Often times Jim would lie in his bed just to watch him sleep, waking him up with a simple “Hi” and a quick rustle of the sheets. He didn’t know when or why he decided to do this. Jim had his own bed, hell his own mansion to sleep in. So the mornings when he was there, so incomprehensibly pleased and warm, Sebastian didn’t quite know what to make of it.

But he misses him.