CHIEF OF STAFF

[colmxran-blog]

BLOG IS UNDERGOING SERIOUS RECONSTRUCTION

[colmxran-blog]

elegantaddicts:

@colmxran [♥] queen of hearts ; the palace

The lights are dim- they’re ALWAYS dim here though. Nothing turns a wonderlander off quicker than lighting that reminds them of the bright days they sleep through. They’re all used to it, adapted to navigating by neon glows that replaced candlelight and glowing fireflies. Those early days were darker than anything the Queen has ever known, darker even than their BEDCHAMBER with heavy velvet blackout curtains drawn to keep out the sunlight. Darker than some claim their heart to be. 

But they memorize SILHOUETTES, the negative space certain people cut out of the world around them. In this way, they don’t need to wait until they’re close enough to recognize a face. Precious moments can be shaved off in the service of charm. That’s how they use it now, crossing the room and leaning casually on the BACK of a certain patron’s chair. “Are you here for business? Or do we have the privilege of entertaining you for pleasure this evening?” They resist the urge to touch, knowing they have not yet been granted that permission.

            Wonderland and all it’s shadows had become home somewhere along the way. A risk, a chance, and it all played out in his favor. ( Ace would claim the favor was hers, house always wins, but it’s his house too, isn’t it now? )

            He’s still Sebastian, hasn’t gone full native where titles seem to matter more than their names from the norm, but he answers to Tiger now too. Slinking around in the shadows, always ready to strike. He might look unassuming enough, but only if you don’t already know the rumors that were quick to spring up when he stepped on scene: the Spade’s new enforcer, a death dealer, Ace’s right hand, King.

            He leans back in his seat, utterly at ease with the Queen of Hearts draped across its back. “You know your entertainment doesn’t interest me much, Queen,” he laughs, more casual than most would probably get away with and live. Because look. He might get a thrill for the chase and that moment before he pulls the trigger, but Queen’s idea of pleasure just doesn’t do it for him. He’s old fashioned, what can you do?

            He pulls an envelope from his jacket and holds it up for them. “Ace sent me.”

[colmxran-blog]

holmescouture:

They frown at his question, having assumed he knew who they were. “Holmes. SHERLOCK HOLMES.” They pause. “Nothing? Christ, you really are out of the loop wherever they have you shipped off to.” They grab their mobile again, pulling up a google page for their own name before handing it over. They’re nothing if not dramatic.

“I’m a MODEL, and my mother is the editor-in-chief of British Vogue. Also the Marchioness of Hastings, but I’m a bit LOATHE to associate with the aristocracy these days. They don’t like me much either.” They roll their eyes in emphasis, sitting up in bed again. “I’ll go get coffee started while you catch up.”

They grab a pair of underpants before heading out into the kitchen, pulling them on purely for the sake of their FLATMATES. Sherlock loved the Trevor twins dearly, but they had their limits, and apparently those included Sherlock walking around in common areas entirely naked. “Dark roast, or blond?” they ask, pausing at the doorway. “And for the record, anyone in our social class who’s queer becomes famous, so you might as well enjoy it now.”

                          The Holmes name is something that rings distant bells for Seb. Probably someone his father tried to make nice with at some point. Definitely forgettable for teenage Sebastian Moran who even then wanted nothing to do with his father’s work. He shrugs and glances back over at Sherlock, chuckling a bit when they get their feathers all fluffed over it.

                          He takes the phone with a raised eye because while the word ‘model’ seems fitting for someone like Sherlock, it’s not a reason Seb would know the name. But he reaches the bit about Hastings and oh. OH. Well. That’d be why Holmes sounds familiar. Jesus.

                          “Look, kid. You were a pretty face and the interest was mutual. I didn’t know shit about your pedigree over here.” If he had, well, Seb’s not entirely sure it would have stopped him. But discretion might have at least been considered. Maybe. Shit, dealing with his father was going to be a pain in his ass now.

                          He’s still scrolling through the article Sherlock had handed him and squints at the names of the publications they were associated with for their rather colorful modeling career and well. He definitely needed that coffee. “Uh... dark’s fine.” Famous. Fucking Christ. Kill him now. He stayed in Iran to avoid the reaches of his father’s career.

[colmxran-blog]

holmescouture:

His confusion is WARRANTED, they suppose. Not everyone wakes up to dozens of warnings and questions from their older brother. “You’re Sebastian Moran. Your family is in politics, yes?” They yawn then, setting down the phone and laying back down. They haven’t BOTHERED to text Mycroft back, and they have no intentions of doing so. He’s hopefully used to being ignored by now.

“You should probably check your mobile. Some tabloid lowlife snapped some PHOTOS of us together last night. I suppose the combination of our fame was enough to earn it considerable attention.” Their tone has taken a less urgent, much more relaxed feel. This happens often enough to them that they’re unfazed by the invasion of privacy. They stretch in bed and look over, very much HOPING that he’s not planning on leaving yet. For now they enjoy the view.

“Not that I care much about my reputation, but I gather you weren’t publicly OUT before these surfaced. Apologies if this causes problems for you.“

                        Sebastian’s nose wrinkles and he rubs at his face. What the fuck? “What the fuck does my father have to do with anything? And how the fuck do you know who my father is?” Sherlock said as much that he didn’t say anything last night and Seb could really use a break down here right now.

                        He could also be asleep right not, damn it.

                        “Motherfucker,” he spits as Sherlock finally gets to the point and he returns to the now frantic search for his pants and thus his mobile. When he finally wrestles the damn thing out of his pocket there are a series of missed calls from his father, a text from another diplomat brat he’d known for years, and a single text from his mum checking they were still on for tea later. 

                        He sits down on the edge of the bed and falls back against the twisted sheets. “Hell of a fucking start to a day,” he mutters. “Do you have coffee? A serious amount of coffee? I’m going to drown this fucking hangover before I even think of dealing with the old man.” 

                        There’s a decent pause as he still tries to make sense of everything before turning on the bed to face Sherlock again. “What the fuck do you mean combined fame? I have no fame. I’m a diplomat brat. Who the fuck are you?”

[colmxran-blog]

holmescouture:

@colmxran gets a thing uni scandal verse ; sherlock’s flat

When Sherlock woke up with a hangover and a phone that was buzzing continuously with a vengeance, they just assumed it would be another MELTDOWN from some guy they never called, or maybe one of their actual friends checking in to ensure they were still alive after another wild night. But when they checked the screen, they couldn’t have been more wrong. MYCROFT’S contact label filled the screen, in the form of 3 missed calls, 1 voicemail, and no less than 10 text messages. Obsessive? Always. 

Upon reading and listening, and eventually, clicking an attached link, they cursed to themself. Turns out what they had assumed to be a CASUAL hookup was a lot more weighty than that. One Sebastian Moran, son to a particularly important former military officer and diplomat who apparently was not previously known to be queer. OOPS. Sleep and substance-addled brain finally catching up, they look around and realize he’s no longer in bed with them. The sound of the toilet flushing, however, allays their concerns that he’s skipped out on them.

“Don’t suppose you’ve seen the NEWS,” they note as he comes back into the bedroom, raising their mobile in indication. “When exactly were you planning on mentioning your last name? I might have been able to expect this, had I known about your family.”

                      Going a little bit wild over the holidays has already become something of a tradition. He spends three quarters of his year in Iran abiding by strict cultural differences while he stubbornly gets his law degree far from the reaches of Oxford and Eaton, he’s allowed a little freedom when he’s back in London. So if he drinks a little much and parties a little harder, who’s to stop him? Certainly not his father. Old man has a better chance of raising devils than that. And as long as he has tea with his mum at least once, she doesn’t bother to think too hard about what her son is getting up to.

                      So waking up in a stranger’s bed? Nothing new. Not the first time, definitely not the last. He looks at Sherlock passed out beside him for a moment and thinks ‘not bad’ before he eventually drags himself through the other’s flat to the bathroom.

                      Personally, he’s all for going back to sleep and letting this fucking hangover die a quiet death, but Sherlock is already up by time he finishes and well. So much for another hour’s sleep. He gets caught up trying to remember where the fuck he threw his pants when Sherlock’s words actually start to penetrate. 

                      “My what? Wait— hold up. Rewind.” He pinches at his nose and wills the headache back when he focuses on Sherlock again. “What about my family?”

[the-apple-is-the-fruit]

THE FATE OF THE FURIOUS

[colmxran-blog]

THE WOMAN VOLDEMORT KILLED PERSONALLY  

                                 & THE SECOND MOST DANGEROUS MAN IN LONDON 

[colmxran-blog]

cue moran smirking tbqh @therussicnway

[killedbyvoldemort]

Sebastian Moran   ( @colmxran )   & Dorcas Meadowes Moodboard

[nooowestayandgetcaught]

Blame, blame, blame

[flawfatalgone-deactivated202111]

( @colmxran ) 

“Papa says you’re fitting in well with everyone.”

     There is a triumphant smile on her face; Genoveffa had expected as much, and she’s pleased to hear confirmation. She links her arm through Sebastian’s with all the familiarity of a close childhood friend, leaning close as if confiding in him. The rest of her father’s men are ignored as she walks through the family’s grounds; it’s not that she dislikes them. It’s just that she likes him more.

     “Are you liking it here? Are you adjusting well?”

[colmxran-blog]

                    It’s not what he had expected — both from her and from his own general trajectory in life. Law student to soldier to— what? Mercenary does’t seem to fit, even if it is what he’d consider calling most of the men he’s ended up brushing shoulders with here. But Genoveffa, he knows, would have something to say if he lumped himself in with the rest of them. He’s still trying to piece together where he fits in and why, but he’s working on it. 

               “Not so different than the army,” he says, letting the criminal heiress take the lead without question. “Better view, less sand. The boss doesn’t have a stick up his ass.” Sebastian glances out the corner of his eye at her and smirks a bit when he adds, “Often, anyway. I like it. And I appreciate it after... well.”

[flawfatalgone-deactivated202111]

a small point i want to make re: my moriarty:

     gen is not a “genderswap” or a “cisbent” version of the canon moriarty. she is a distinct character, based in the holmes mythos. gen’s father was the “original” – giacomo moriarty, killed in an accident at reichenbach falls, left his empire to his daughter, genoveffa. the moriarty name is as much a title as anything, and when one dies, the next inherits it, and everything that comes with it.

     leading up to the incident at reichenbach, gen is very much involved with her father’s work and his business; she is, herself, a forger and a collector, and she’s invaluable to his work. after his death, gen’s attention shifts to maintaining her father’s business, and, once holmes resurfaces, to dealing with that. she will reference being a part of her father’s operation, in threads in which it’s appropriate; she is not the moriarty until after reichenbach.

     ( something else – if anyone but her father or @colmxran calls her gen, she’ll be very, very annoyed. )

[kugosuggestions]

Don’t forget to smile while intimidating someone.

[elijah120607]

Ed Skrein＠Eric Ray Davidson - Yahoo Style.

[bwboysgallery-deactivated202007]

Ed Skrein for Spotlight Interview

[snakeassassins]

one thing that’s always bothered me about most people’s depiction of Holmes’s usage of cocaine is that most people in Victorian England were only just beginning to realize how badly it affected people???

like tbh I feel like a better modern equivalent would just be Holmes dumping a five hour energy into his fifth cup of coffee while Watson, a trained medical professional, stares at him in horror

[cinexphile-deactivated20190801]

The Fate of the Furious (2017)