prettyarbitrary:

nixiesaurus:

Sebastian Moran, ladies and gentleman.

(*watches the followers ragequit*)

His father was an ambassador.  He attended some of the best schools in the world.  He spoke multiple languages.  He had two (or was it three?) books published.  He was a world-famous hunter, and a hero to the people of India for defending their villages and livestock from tigers.  He was a decorated Colonel in the British Army, responsible for leading not just a team but quite possibly an entire brigade.  He was one of the leaders of Moriarty’s criminal organization.

ACD’s Moran isn’t a scarred and battered sniper.  He’s a high-powered business executive who can kill you in 15 different ways if you piss him off.

Not, I should clarify, that I have any arguments against scarred and battered sniper!Moran.  I mean, that is darn hot.

While we’re on this topic:

“His chief of staff is Colonel Sebastian Moran, as aloof and guarded and inaccessible to the law as himself. What do you think he pays him?”

“I’d like to hear.”

“Six thousand a year. That’s paying for brains, you see — the American business principle. I learned that detail quite by chance. It’s more than the Prime Minister gets. That gives you an idea of Moriarty’s gains and of the scale on which he works.”

— Valley of Fear, Arthur Conan Doyle

aldamita:

ghostsrequiem:

Happy Valentine’s day, Tiger.

Happy only slightly belated V-day, followers! Here we have Jim happily displaying the gift he got for Sebastian: a tattoo of a tiger eating a heart. I don’t know how romantic that is but Bastian can’t seem to keep his eyes off it so I guess it can’t be that bad of a gift, right? ❀◕ ‿ ◕❀

One of these days I’m going to sit down and really plot out Sebastian’s tattoos. I imagine he has more but this is all that I got for now. Side note: the barcode on the back of his neck is something he got when he was a teen just to infuriate his father. Sadly, Augustus’ reaction was a little harsher than anticipated, but that’s a story for another time.

I cranked this entire picture- tattoos included- out in less than a day and a half. Ha haha hahahahaha haaaa.

Done in photoshop.

Vulnerability, revisited

I wrote a thing.  (This may or may not have been a good idea.)

This follows sometime after bendydicky’s prompt-fill fic: Sebastian, Vulnerability  The enjoyment of this (or understanding, at least) is improved by reading that, first. 😉  Warning for… um.  minor squick, I guess, and Jim being Jim.  Which is often the same thing. 

Title: Vulnerability, revisited  (AO3)
Pairing: Jim Moriarty/Sebastian Moran
Wordcount: 1,565
Follows: Bendydicky’s fic

It had been Seb’s turn, this time; not that they took turns, really, but once most of their clothes had been cast off, moving inexorably towards the bed, Sebastian was the one who ended up on his back, stretched out and tied down with taut ropes.  The man – dangerous, formidable in his own right – was never so alluring as when he willingly let Jim make him vulnerable.  Something he never allowed another soul – shouldn’t allow Jim, were he thinking clearly.

And that allure…   well, that was part of the problem, wasn’t it?

Distractions.

So an idle thought became a budding action; uncertain, yet, of its true termination, but rich with a full range of possibilities.  Jim rarely made truly idle threats, after all, and Sebastian had been warned.

Warned heedlessly, apparently.  Now, Seb looked so very peaceful, sated and pleased in the shadow of their activities, dead to the world but for where his body intersected with the warmth of Jim’s draped along his.  So contented, so relaxed…

There wasn’t even a start when the blade settled against the soft skin of Seb’s neck; barely the slightest pause in the rhythm of his breathing, a moment of stillness to note his surprise, something which would have gone unnoticed had Jim been anyone else, if he hadn’t been looking for it.  But that small pause was all; Sebastian didn’t tense, didn’t resist, didn’t even open his eyes, all he did was tilt his chin back slightly, slowly, and turn his head to the right. 

Remembrance of his last threat hung heavy in that motion – the connection easily made to that small argument, when Jim had opined that Seb became too relaxed during these couplings, too trusting, unguarded; that he might well chose to slit his throat during a moment of vulnerability, if Jim ever chose to kill the man – but now, with the blade at his throat, he didn’t tense, didn’t make any other movement or plea.  His heart rate was still evening out, and in this new position Sebastian’s carotid artery pulsed gently, blatantly, just under the surface of vulnerable skin; offered clearly, easily, without hesitation.

Of the many reactions he had considered, this one hadn’t even made the list; this was not the survivor he knew.  Scowling slightly, Jim moved the knife into place along the offered artery, but didn’t exert any pressure on it, merely letting it bob slightly with the faint motion of Sebastian’s heartbeat; a subtle promise.

“You’ve never struck me as suicidal, Moran.” He murmured, voice low and rich, but without inflection. 

The man had the audacity to smirk, a lazy grin pulling at his lips for a long moment before he responded with almost cocky indulgence, a hint of warmth threading into his tone, “Good; I’d hate to think you were losing your touch.”

When it was clear nothing more was forthcoming, Jim pressed slightly, then shifted the knife, point drifting up to trace the line of Sebastian’s artery where it disappeared up under his jaw, then following it back down to his collar bone, tipping and twisting the blade once it stilled until a small drop of blood welled up at the prick.  “Sebastian”, he said warningly, then paused, waiting.

Blue eyes finally opened to regard him, though Sebastian did not otherwise move, seemingly comfortable with his present position.  “You’ll do what you want, Jim”, he replied after more of a wait than might have been intelligent or safe, given his tenuous situation – the pause a point of its own, subtly stressing a complete lack of fear.  “I came to terms with that well before this became more than a job.”

Seb let out a breath of a laugh, then, that in other circumstances might have been a harsh bark of humour, brash and unrestrained in its amusement.  Now it was subdued, but no more self-conscious or restrained, hinting that this sudden fatalism was more an act of reasoned devotion than apathy.  There was more under the statement than what was said, but Jim’s attention shifted from that consideration when Seb bucked up slightly, just enough for Jim to feel him, to make a quiet, voiceless point.  “Anyway, your timing could be worse”, Sebastian continued, voice still warmly amused, with a hint of dark irony, “I always thought I’d go out in a much less… pleasant way.”

The response wasn’t quite… flippant; rather, earnest, with a hint of black humour, and Jim paused, simply watching for a long moment before deciding how to respond.

“You know, I only had to make a quick job of it, when I was relying on your guard being down…  now that you’ve-“, he smirked, glancing up at the ropes holding Seb in place, “-let yourself get all tied up, there’s nothing to keep me from drawing this out – having a bit of fun with you, first.”

He drew the knife down lightly, just enough pressure on the tip to be felt dragging across Sebastian’s chest until the point dipped into his navel; Jim’s eyes followed its progress avidly, but he paused, there, glancing up to meet Seb’s gaze again, his own expression edging into a mischievous mien that would often precede blood.   “I could gut you, like this, if I wanted”, he offered lightly, reflectively, “maybe even skin you… “  Trailing off, Jim let the thought hang as the blade pressed down to flatten against Sebastian’s belly, though the tip remained where it was, threateningly nestled in his navel.  For his part, Seb did not seem particularly concerned with this display, watching with an almost passive eye until Jim had finished, then making an attempt at a shrug. 

The response was languid, unhurried, and after a moment Seb replied with an ease that spoke of confidence.  “You could, but I don’t think you will.”

“Oh?”, Jim asked, exaggerated surprise in his voice and the rise of his brows as he leaned back slightly to more directly regard Sebastian, “And whatever gives you that idea?”

Tilting his head slightly, Seb regarding Jim more evenly, appearing to give the question honest thought before responding, “You could, if pressed, but it’s not your preference; I have no doubt that you could kill me in an instant if it served you, but you’d try to make it quick, clean, if you could – you drag it out when it’s expedient, or someone really irritates you, but you’ve become fond of me.  Insofar as you’re fond of anything.”  He shrugged again with a twitch of shoulders that could barely move, and went silent, as if he were relating a simple fact – a student reciting their sums – rather than opining how he might or might not meet a horrible end.

To be fair, it was this sort of frank acceptance of the facts that had initially made Jim…. fond, if that was the word of the evening.  Possessive, he thought, might be a better one, but that was down to semantics. 

The confidence in that answer, however, had the blade moving silently upward once more; cutting lightly, this time, a shallow scrape up across Seb’s abdomen, then over a scant few centimeters and back down.  Jim gave every indication that his attention had shifted fully to the work, watching a small line of blood well up here and there where the knife had passed, though Sebastian didn’t react beyond the occasional autonomous twitch of muscle under Jim’s hand, merely watching him move.  Once he was finished laying the base, the knife came back up to thread under the very tip of the shape he had made, working delicately to peal up a gossamer-thin layer of skin.  He glanced back up to watch Sebastian’s face, knowing they both knew what was about to happen, but the yank, when it came – far more painful than damaging – pulled little more than a hiss and the slightest wince from the other man, along with a thin, almost negligible thread of skin.

The stillness between them stretched out for several long heartbeats – it was Jim’s show, now, and Seb had always respected his predilections – before Jim smirked.

“You died tonight, Sebastian”, he purred, sliding up along Seb’s body, hand – still loosely gripping the knife – trailing along the raw flesh of his belly until it rested just below the man’s collar bone.  Cool, dark eyes met blue firmly, and held them, transfixed.  “Every day you wake, after this, is a gift.”  He held his position for another long moment, still – amazingly, though not surprisingly – sensing no fear from the man beneath him, only acceptance.  The danger had passed – they both knew it – but he doubted the reaction would be different if it hadn’t. 

In a flash, his smirk deepened and Jim swooped down to press an almost violent kiss to Sebastian’s lips as his hand shot out…

The contact was fast and impassioned, leaving rent fiber and a breathless marksman in its wake once Jim drew back.  “Just remember that, tiger”, he said, playful amusement lilting Jim’s voice as he pulled away, leaving the knife on the bed and patting the other man’s hip in a doting sort of affection.  Sliding off the bed in one smooth motion, Jim left the room without a backwards glance, leaving Seb to undo the rest of the bindings, himself.

He would pick up a perceptive one… still, best to keep his tiger on his toes.

————————

So, I read one of bendydicky’s prompt fic’s (Sebastian, Vulnerability, to be exact) a bit back, and was immediately struck upside the head by the muse with a following scene.  Having obtained permission to write said scene (which will almost certainly be regretted, soon enough XD) I’ve done so, and given the content, had a cackling fit over posting it today.  Because it’s so very romantic. *snicker*  Everyone needs a little Valentine’s day skinning, right? XD

Anyway, this started in Seb’s perspective, but Jim is a bossy git and took over; I have no excuse past, I’ve been sick. This is basically me trying to force my muse into cooperating with me after a long dry spell.  (Thanks to Random-nexus for giving this a look-over for any particularly embarrassing mistakes, before posting :D)

nixiesaurus:

“Bloody Basher” (Version 2) SFW version here

Colonel Sebastian Moran as rendered by Astro! 

The original commission that I had done by Astro was created over 8 months ago, and had this variant version done of my RP version of Sebastian Moran in his Colonel’s uniform.  Initially, I wasn’t going to share this with anyone except my closest RPing partners (and still, only like two people aside from myself and Astro have seen it).  I was too bashful to post it on my tumblr, because at the time, I didn’t really post NSFW on my blog.  Any now?  PENIS CONFETTI EVERYWHERE!  YOU GET A PORN HOUR!  YOU GET A SMUTFIC!  EVERYONE GETS NSFW!

(Please keep original text if reblogging, please don’t repost, and please don’t remove Astro’s credit on the image; since this was a commission, I want to make sure Astro is recognized for her talents; this is one thing she does request on her tumblr, so thanks so much.)

Reblogging again for Bitty’s tags:

: I was really debating reblogging this There are atleast two people who will be traumatized BUT JUST LOOK AT THIS FUCKING BABE Unf. There was a Colonel named Sebastian Moran He happened to be the best shot in the land His mighty dick was inches thick And best to be grasped with both hands I MEAN THIS WAS THE GNOMES THE GNOMES DID THIS Vicious porn gnomes vicious… Porn NSFW penis

~All lives end, all hearts are broken, and a win isn’t always clear. When it comes down to prodding wounds, some know how to hide emotions better than others, and some just know to strike where it hurts most. A certain grieving doctor just so happens to be Sherlock’s weak spot.~
 
 
Had a lot of help from lovely lady-karasu with the dialogue and summary, just because she’s way better with words than me.

I’m happy to help, dear; the brilliant concept was all yours, though, I just helped you tweak it. ❤

7ns:

yaahoooo:

OK. UHHHH HELLO GUYS. AAAH woah I just drew this for Ina cause thanks to her reblogs akjfhjdfh crazy stuff happened. So here you go Ina, forgive the shitty anatomy and stuff cause I made this super fast cause I wanted to send it to you ASAP which I couldn’t cause your submit box is off baw. ANYWAY JIMMY BOY’S FROM IT ASS wanted to thank you too

SO AKJSHFK hello everyone. Omg.. you’re all a lot of people I can’t. Ok uhhm as an introduction I’ll just say this blog is mostly South Park, but I just got into Sherlock so there’ll be MorMor everywhere too. And I think that’s all you want to know haha 

ANYWAY TL;DR IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS FEEL FREE TO ASK. MY ASSBOX IS OPEN 24/7 YA’LL

alsdkfjasldfkjasdlfkjasdflaksdhflasdkjfalsdkfasldfkjasdlfkjasdflka

trust me when i say im gushing and melting because i just, omg super love your linework and scream

his ass

yahoo we’ve barely met, but you know me so well already, so well. 

thank you babs! I love it and i will cherish it forever and smother it in my ample bosom!!! xxxxxxxx