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OutOfCrimes

There are still 681 of you here, and while I find that very sweet…. I have moved my blog OVER HERE… So… if you want to continue following an active blog, I suggest you move over there too. ;3 <3

[thedynamicasteroid-archived-blog]

OutOfCrimes

There are still 681 of you here, and while I find that very sweet…. I have moved my blog OVER HERE… So… if you want to continue following an active blog, I suggest you move over there too. ;3 <3

[thedynamicasteroid-archived-blog]

OutOfCrimes

There are still 681 of you here, and while I find that very sweet…. I have moved my blog OVER HERE… So… if you want to continue following an active blog, I suggest you move over there too. ;3 <3

[thedynamicasteroid-archived-blog]

OutOfCrimes

There are still 681 of you here, and while I find that very sweet.... I have moved my blog OVER HERE... So... if you want to continue following an active blog, I suggest you move over there too. ;3 <3

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I just wanted to let you know that I have now officially closed this blog. It makes me really sad since I've had it since 2012, but I have remade! While I am still in the process or reblogging threads and other photos over on that blog, it is open for plotting and following. 

I hope to see some of you over on that blog.... It's been fun... <3

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Sherlock Holmes is a world famous model, arrogant and ethereal, who got his start as a child when he saw the loving detail put into a piece at a London art gallery showcasing talent from kids across the country and decided that he wanted artists to depict him as reverently as this one had with his subject. Over two decades later, he receives word through his agent that the man whose early piece set him on his path wishes to privately employ him and Sherlock takes him up on the offer, intrigued to learn more about the reclusive Moriarty.

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After Reichenbach, Jim awakens to find himself tethered to Earth without form, some mysterious unfinished business preventing him from moving on as he’d originally intended. He sets about recruiting Sherlock to assist him in destroying his empire, certain it’s what’s preventing him from moving on. At first Sherlock, the only person who can see Jim, is convinced that he is only a hallucination brought on by being high, but as he becomes more involved in the new brainwork provided by Jim’s task and abandons his artificial fixes, he gradually accepts Jim’s existence and advice, fighting his urge to relapse and getting his life back on track. However, as they travel the world tearing the web apart strand by strand, Jim and Sherlock grow closer and gradually more reluctant to part ways.

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James Ó Muircheartaigh, Ard Rí or High King of Ireland, receives threats to his life constantly. The most recent assassination attempt has caused the death of his most trusted bodyguard Sebastian and as a result, James must seek out a new one. He soon decides upon the consulting knight Sherlock Holmes, or Sir Boast-A-Lot as James takes to calling him. Sherlock is initially disinterested in the job, but when a new threat implies that it will be successful even with him on the king’s side, he accepts the challenge.

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for Claudia || Jim Moriarty & Sebastian Moran

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'Lived long enough to become the villain.'

He didn’t ask for this. Following a lead on a kidnapping case, John set out without Sherlock by his side. Just a fast, sloppy questioning of the boy’s father - he didn’t need back up. How could he? Asking one man routine questions didn’t typically lead to bashing his brains in with a hammer.

This one, though… Gary Brickwidge, a nasty sort with an obvious drinking habit, reminded John of a man he once knew. Peppered hair, icy eyes, and a scowl that could curdle the heart of a saint, Gary didn’t seem very welcoming. In fact he seemed the opposite - looking for a fight. On the defensive the moment he opened the door, John steeled himself and summoned years of training to exert his authority. 

Gary answered in short, monosyllabic words, arms crossed across his chest as John tried to take a look around the house. No, the boy hadn’t come home. No, the boy had no friends. No, he hadn’t seen him since he left for the bus that morning.

Funny, that. The bus driver didn’t recall seeing him either.

After half an hour of what felt like questioning a brick wall John asked to use Gary’s bathroom. Mr. Brickwidge pointed it out and stalked off to the kitchen for a fresh glass of scotch. Seizing his only opportunity to explore the house, John quickly poked his head into every closed door he came across. 

Nothing. Nothing but bare, bleak rooms. One, though, the last one he opened, contained a few scant toys and books. John slipped inside and glanced around, turning the action figures over in his gloved fingers. David, Gary’s son, had a small closet opposite his bed. John set the toy he held back on the floor and crossed over to it. The door sat ajar, no light penetrating its depths.

He nudged it open with the toe of his shoe and immediately covered his mouth to keep from screaming. Wrists bound, mouth agape, the blue-tinted corpse of David Brickwidge lay limp on the shag-carpeted floor. His neck angled off to the side, and stripes of blood peppered the back of his shirt.

Gary. Gary reminded John of his father.

Dark, so dark, and his throat burns from the force of his screams. He can’t move. He can barely breathe. It was a kiss, just a kiss, why did he have to be so upset?! “Let me out,” he coughs weakly. “Please, I’ll never… never do it again, just…” 

John reached for his gun - but his waistband sat empty. Unarmed, why did he have to come unarmed?! Before he could glance around for a weapon the door burst open and Gary surged toward him, screaming in rage. Taking the brunt of his force John fell hard on his back, toys digging into his spine as he kept Gary’s hands away from his throat. He needed to think, and he needed to find a weapon.

There. In the corner. A half-finished shelf, probably to hold the boy’s books and toys. Beside it, however, lay a hammer - and John could use that. He stretched one arm out, fingers reaching for the handle even as he tried to beat Gary away with his other. Gary had a good sixty pounds on him, though, and landed three heavy blows to his face. Bleeding, adrenaline pumping through his veins, John managed to grab the hammer and swing it toward Gary’s head.

C R A C K. It made a satisfying crunch as it struck him, dazing him long enough for John to flip them over. Down, down, he brought it down on Gary’s skull, barely aware of his own screams as he bashed his skull in. Blood and bone flew with each new blow. Though tears flowed freely down John’s cheeks, he didn’t stop. Not until the bastard was an unrecognizable mess.

He barely remembered calling the police. Everything was blank, a haze of darkness until he found himself on Jim Moriarty’s doorstep. Bloody, gripping the hammer as if his life depended on it, he stared into Jim’s dark eyes while time stretched on around them.

"I… I need help," he whispered, making no effort to step inside. "Help me, Jim. I don’t know what to do…"

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{ Love you too, darling ;3 }

i see your tags ya nerd

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“ Look at t h i s if you don’t            think you’ll experience                   something   D A R K… “

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OutOfCrimes || Moving

I just want you all to know why I haven't been very active. I've done a lot of freshening on this blog... dropping threads and so on multiple times, trying to maintain my muse. However, this doesn't seem to work very well. So, after a lot of thought I've decided to close this blog after 2 years and move to a fresh new start. I will maintain my URL as I am far too attached to it. I will also be keeping a lot of the same HTML to maintain a similar look.

I will be dropping my threads with most everyone. There are 3 or 4 people I will be maintaining established threads, but other than that, if you'd like to RP I'd like to start over with their relationship.

I really hope you all can understand. The 695 of you are all wonderful, and I hope to see you on my new blog!! 

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x

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Many Murderous Returns (After Reichenbach AU)

He was a genius, a beautiful and yet cruel mind. Every crime was artistic, organised - and all over, he gave me everything I needed. I’d have caught any bullet for Professor Moriarty. Maybe it was naive to assume he’d just leave like this. 

"Don’t worry, tiger. I’m going to be with you again very soon.”