Consulting Criminal

It is inevitable destruction. You stand in the way not merely of an individual, but of a mighty organisation, the full extent of which you, with all your cleverness, have been unable to realize.Independent Jim Moriarty RP Blog. Tracked tag:...

[daddyofstarks]

Mad Toys

[daddyofstarks]

The pain shot through him like a burst of adrenaline. He felt it in his mouth, in the torn cry he exhaled as the blade sliced down towards his knee. Cold metal covered in his blood, the warmth beginning to pool as it spilled. The cut was thin but the sting hurt worse than stubbing his toe. Howard forced himself to lean back, determined not to come any closer to the insane criminal practically straddling his lap. Crazy, he was crazy, or maybe it was Howard. Dreaming up some nightmare, maybe he’d wake up soon and this will all be over.

Hope.

It was hope that kept him from cursing and dragging this man–no, monster–off him. His eyes welled with tears, harsh little pants climbing their way up as he spoke through gritted teeth. “You sonovabitch..cut to the chase..I’m not going to give you anything so just kill me. Be done with it.”

He figured, if the man kills him, Howard will wake up in some pit full of bodies or a trench or anywhere that was better than here. Goading death because he couldn’t die, but they didn’t know that. They couldn’t. He’d been so careful after all with his experiments. Thorough. Anyone who saw didn’t believe, that was his saving grace and a part of him couldn’t believe that they would say something about it. That they would betray him.

[the-napoleon-blog]

“Oooh Mister Stark, don’t you worry your pretty little head, your savings account will remain untouched. There is nothing in your possession that I could possibly desire.” Jim hummed, “I am worth more than you and your company’s petty net-worth combined. ...So naive aren’t you?” The criminals lips parted in a crooked flash of teeth, an innocent giggle quietly bubbling through his thin form. Such a cute little thing, wasn’t he? Quite the looker, despite his dreadful facial hair. Would have to do something about that.

The knife was wrenched from the inventor’s thigh with the sickly rip of muscle, embedding the thin blade within Howard’s shoulder just as swiftly. Jim pulled his weight forward by the daggers handle, both thighs fully encompassing the inventors as his hips canted forward.”Let me ‘cut to the chase’. I have everything I could possibly want right here.” Deceitfully delicate fingers cupped the inventors cheek, the digits dancing along Howard’s bone structure in silent examination. 

“I want you, Mister Stark, and I have you. Allll to my little ol’ self. You wouldn’t believe how convenient it is to have an immortal to play with, a homo one at that.” His hips pressed forward, closing that distance as feral black eyes stared unwavering. It was a test, a blunt jab to see if this man was truly what he believed.

[hippano]

BOYS NO THIS IS NOT THE TIME

[the-napoleon-blog]

"Please. Don't."

Jim glanced over at the sniper, brows furrowed in obvious annoyance as he slowly shut his laptop. This is exactly the conversation he had wanted to avoid. Fucking fantastic. He fluidly hopped to his feet, head cocked to the partially side as he approached the man. “Sebastian. I may need to kill myself in order to beat Sherlock. Why don’t you understand that? Its the facts, dear. Best get the fuck over with it. Nooothing you say will sway me.” He spat, wanting this discussion to be finished. He couldn’t be arsed to deal with the snipers drama.

[tigerinthewest]

“You can threaten all you like but I will not allow you to tell me you honestly think that man will kill himself because you said so. Youve known him longer? Right and I’ve been the sole person to consistently help you get the job done. I’m telling you not to do this.” Sebastian argued, the rage already bubbling over as he stood there and took Jim’s insults. Insults mean deflection. Deflection meant doubt. He knew, he just fucking knew that Jim was lying through his teeth. Nothing Sebastian said could change it. He wouldn’t be able to stop either of them meeting on that rooftop.

“If you can’t admit you’re wrong about him and you fucking die while he lives I will personally go to hell simply to fucking tell you I told you so!”

[the-napoleon-blog]

For fucks sake. He didn’t have time for this right now. This discussion had danced around in circles on countless occasions, every-time with further desperation than the last. It was simply an unnecessary However, as hateful as the thought of it was, Sebastian was correct. There were no grantee's, that was the name of the game really, regardless of how thorough one prepared or how confident they were of success. By no means did that mean the sniper had any right to run his mouth.

“Watch yourself, Sebastian.” He warned, his tone quieter from his early out burst, but none the less seething in unspoken ferocity. “Nothing in this life is certain. I do not need you of all people talking down to me about such facts. If I am wrong, and he does not jump from that roof top, I am more then prepared to take my own life to assure his death. The only one who is not prepared to ‘let go’ here, is you.” His voice rumbled low in his throat, dark eyes flashing in his frustration. “I do hope you keep me company in the ninth ring.”

[hippano]

Red-faced Basher Moran

[un1tamed1fox]

[tigr-yarko-goryashiy-blog]

[inserthomourlhere-blog]

[secondgoddess]

I always wanted to try to animate something so here’s a small Andrew Scott gif I made of 8 seperate drawings. Not perfect but I tried. (Also this was supposed to be longer but I’m too tired to draw more frames. Or a background.) Better quality version here

[the-napoleon-blog]

"There was so much blood..."

Jim glanced up at the man as he entered, brows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed the job went smoothly. Did something happen that you have failed to tell me?” he asked, giving the man an incredulous look. “Or have you suffered some sort of a concussion? Obviously there would be blood, Seb. Haven’t heard you complain before.”

[tigerinthewest]

The rush and urgency of the other man wasn’t reflected by Sebastian. He found himself simply reacting to each thing at a slower time than the blind felt was accurate. A delay of movements while the dark haired man moved around him, fluttering almost, like a hummingbird constantly moving. With another nod he stayed still, a rock among the tiles and hard flooring, his hand pressed against the warmest part on his head, keeping the heat safe.

At the order to speak, he opened his mouth and then chewed on nothing in paticular, simply continuing the motion as he sat. James. James, why did that sound familiar? His thoughts were becoming muddled but the name hung in the air, a billboard advertisement with flashing neon lights and fireworks to spare. He made a few grunts.

“..Ow..s'hurts.” Sebastian managed to frown, dim blue eyes gazing at the needle in his arm before lifting to look at James. He was beginning to have a semblance of himself back. “Why?”

[the-napoleon-blog]

With the transfusion in place, and the sniper finally having more reaction then a fish that’s been left out in the sun, all attention returned to the bleeding wound. Skilled hands were ontop of Sebastian’s, coaxing the digits away from the injury as an antiseptic was applied. The shorter man’s shoulders heaved as a long restrained sigh broke through his lips, bringing a free hand down to rest gingerly on the other’s cheek.

“Why? You are asking why?” He nearly guffawed, “Because I absolutely adore watching you suffer.” His palm slapped the deathly pale skin, not hard, but forceful enough to gain some attention. Getting himself filthy for the sake of Sebastian’s monumental fuck up would not be let go without punishment, but for now, the criminal allowed himself a moment of relief. “Don’t you worry. You’ll be pricked a few more times tonight.” He murmured, plucking his needle and sutures packet from the floor.

[the-napoleon-blog]

⁈

20. Sitting in the middle of an empty, blood-covered room, dressed all in grey, glowering at your muse with a poisonous look

How the fuck had this happened? He was always so careful when it came to bringing quick fucks to his spare flat, yet he had somehow failed to see the potential threat with his most recent effort. The man fit his usual requirements; fit, submissive, dreadfully ordinary, and easily manipulated. He only needed a release, after all.

The evening had started as always, snogging heatedly on the bed as they stripped one another down. However, the twat seemed to think it was a good idea they switch roles, and proceeded to wrap his hands around Jim’s throat before shoving him into the mattress. When ordered to stop, the man scoffed, tightening his grip as he replied “You couldn’t make me stop now if you tried. You’ll enjoy it.” Ignorant fuck. He maneuvered his hand down, snatching the switchblade from his jeans pocket. He immediately stabbed the fucker in the thigh before driving the blade down through the flesh, a snarl ripping from his throat. He used the mans distraction to further free himself, slashing across his Achilles heel before pushing the man onto the floor.

His hands were over the mans mouth, the blade coming up to his neck as he nicked his carotid artery. He did not have long, but the last several minutes of this useless twats existence would be spent in agony. He would guarantee it. He proceeded to drag the screaming man to a nearby chair, tying his hands behind the back of it his t-shirt. He started at the chest, pressing the blade just deep enough to slice through not only the outer thinner layer of skin, but the thicker tissue layer below it. He divided the entirety of the front of the mans body into sections, immediately flaying the flesh from the muscle. He would generally be a bit more careful with the hide, never knowing when he may need a new pair of shoes or gloves, but he had a time limit. 

By the time the man died, the flesh from his entire chest, as well as upper arms and a portion of his thighs, was sitting in a pile on the wooden floor. There was bloody everywhere, not only on himself but  covering the floor, bed, and even on the damned walls. He let out a frustrated scream, sitting on the edge of the bed as he glowered at the corpse. Disgusting human being. He glanced at the door way as he heard movement, an unamused scowl on his lips. “Why the fuck are you here?” he spat in annoyance, infuriated with the proceedings of the evening.

[tigerinthewest]

He gave what resembled a nod but others didn’t seem to hear a word Jim had said. He stood up from the corpse and walked over to the bed, blocking Jim’s vision. A barrier in more ways than one, he couldn’t bring himself to stop. With a lift of Jim’s chin, Sebastian began inspecting his employer, making sure to watch Moriarty’s eyes. Because he knew the slightest snap could put him in the same place as the fool laying in a pool of blood.

“You should shower. It’ll be at least an hour before I’m back.” Sebastian pulled away, giving his boss space before he knelt to pick the body up. He’d burn his clothes afterwards but he knew staying would risk an episode. He was too disinterested in having an argument he figured he would get this over with before coming back to have at it.

[the-napoleon-blog]

Jim’s unshakeable gaze drilled into the now unsalvageable rug, his skin crawling on his very bones in revulsion. The whole evening had been a complete waste, from start to blood filled finish. The soiled blood that clung to his flesh was enough to make his stomach churn, his whole body shuddering in clear vexation. Only when warm fingertips were guiding his attention upwards did Jim break his trance, black eyes falling on the larger man with lifeless disinterest. Rage boiled in his gut, the displeasure of being walked in on still lingering like a foul taste.

“Just get it done.” He breathed out arduously, exhaustion from the ordeal finally catching up with the smaller man. That didn’t stop him from getting to his feet and trailing out of the room before Sebastian had even begun to descend upon the corpse. Out of sight, out of mind. The spotless white tile soothed Jim’s thoughts, slipping out of his skivvies as bloodied footsteps tarnished the pristine floor. The ceiling mounted shower head hummed smoothly as the torrential flow of water was switched on, thin limbs stepping beneath it with a lengthy sigh. Jim had no intention of leaving such a comfort until all signs of the last hour were bleached from his bedroom.

[the-napoleon-blog]

"There was so much blood..."

Jim glanced up at the man as he entered, brows furrowed in confusion. “I was informed the job went smoothly. Did something happen that you have failed to tell me?” he asked, giving the man an incredulous look. “Or have you suffered some sort of a concussion? Obviously there would be blood, Seb. Haven’t heard you complain before.”

[tigerinthewest]

He was set on the floor, obeying to the word he seemed to understand. Hm. Stay. Stay.. Stay… Sebastian didn’t know why it resonated through him with such ferocity. He felt that it’d continue his survival and so he rested back against the tiles of a hard wall. He barely registered the return of the dark haired man, in fact he hadn’t realized the man left. The blond stared until his head was being pushed down, obedient in his exposure of the wound. Warmth exploded behind his skull, he felt it drip down his neck and snake it’s way down his spine.

“So much..” He whispered, his body shivering with the intensity of how cold he felt. The chill was getting stronger, even as he let out a noise that had been an attempt of the dark haired man’s name. “Mm….hm, myess..”

[the-napoleon-blog]

Shit, shit, shit! The sniper had gone from bad, to knocking on deaths door in a matter of moments, and he was only getting worse. It wouldn’t be long before Sebastian was sure to lose consciousness, and he simply couldn’t allow that to happen. With the wound cleared, and no obvious signs of offending debris, Jim was pulling a clean handkerchief from his pocket and pressing the fabric firmly to the still bleeding wound. How the hell had the ex-soldier even allowed this to occur? Fucking useless, wasn’t he?

“No, ‘mm’ is not my name. James. My name is James you God damn, dimwitted, fucknut.” He snarled in impatience, his voice strained in the building tension. It wasn’t Sebastian’s fault, he was well aware, but he had to release his animosity in some form before he killed the man himself. Taking hold of the sniper’s hand, he lifted it up to press against the now suppressed injury. “Hold this here. Can you do that? Do not move from this spot.” 

Jim was on his feet and darting across the room in a flash, shoes clacking loudly on the floorboards. In such a business, a disastrous outcome was not unheard of, and it was rather dire to have a clear cut emergency plan. Jim had a surplus of blood bags stored in the flat for such an occasion, swiftly snatching two from a climate controlled storage device along with a small catheter, pole mount, and sanitizer. The criminal was nearly sprinting back to his employee, slamming down onto his knees as he extended the pole, clipping both bags onto the hooks in the process. The catheter was attached, bled out, and sanitized before Jim was swabbing at Sebastian’s arm, cleaning the blood soaked flesh.

“Talk to me. Come on. Go quiet and I’m taking an ear off.” He spat, the needle slipping into the other’s forearm.

[daddyofstarks]

Mad Toys

[tigerinthewest]

Sebastian was practically preening with the attention, his excitement palpable. He was high strung, that was for sure. He didn’t so much as ooze sexual energy as Jim did however. He was quite surprised just how aroused kidnapping someone for Jim’s murderous games made the mastermind. Sebastian made a note to keep such things in mind if he ever wanted an easy way to get Jim naked and violent.

He was practically expecting a kiss but when his boss moved to tease the prisoner, who could blame him? Howard Stark, multi-billionaire and greatest mind of well,  the 1940s, here in their own little place for torture. It was unheard of really, to have such an intact fossil. Not a day older looking than perhaps twenty something? Maybe thirties? How’d Stark manage it? Who knew. That wasn’t why he kidnapped him.

Jim heard a rumor and Seb merely caught the fish to test said rumor. He was looking forward to the carnage though, even if it meant waiting a little longer for his prize.

[daddyofstarks]

Howard took that to mean these assholes were British criminals doing their dirty work in the states. Hah. Laughable, or about as funny as he could find it under the influence of all these drugs. He watched the shorter man, what accent was that anyway? He couldn’t place it just yet but woah boy did this asshole catch his attention alright.

The shock was slow but it came first. Underneath all the drugs and dizzy vision, Howard saw the knife go in before he felt it. The pained shout that followed was a bit delayed but yea that woke him up properly. “Motherfucker!” He cursed, doing his best to reel from this psychopath, not making much ground given that he was stuck to a chair.

But oh god, oh boy, he was not expecting such a sudden and violent welcome. Not so soon anyway. He wished he had been a sleep for a while longer. “Jesus christ…fuck. Are you insane?”

[the-napoleon-blog]

Jim's grip was firm as he held he sharpened blade in place as the sharp shout of pain echoed loudly in the empty room. Good to know the drugs weren't making the man completely immune to the tortures that were to follow. Where would the fun be in that?

The criminal's tongue slid over his lower lip drawing out the seconds of the man writhed in his bindings. An airy little laugh left him, leaning in close before giving a casual shrug. "Guilty." He hummed, flashing his teeth as if he was a pre-teen getting caught in his parents bedroom. Oh, how could he help it? Having his very own Howard Stark whom was already questioning his sanity? Of course he was going to be beaming.

His knee slid between the space of Howard's tied open thighs, half straddling the man with the knife still buried deep. "The thing is, Mr. Stark, is I have exhausted every means of entertainment in simple abduction and dissection. Don't get me wrong, it is quite fun, but the clean up is simply too tedious for a man like me to deal with." He hummed, gaze flicking over the bound man's form. "Now... If you are what I believe you to be, you can solve my little problem." His hand jerked, blade twisting in its place. "I did go through a lot of trouble finding you. I do hope you are worth it." Jim tightened his grip, slicing the knife downwards as the flesh parted in its wake.

[daddyofstarks]

Mad Toys

his-mortal-enemy

[daddyofstarks]

Howard awoke in a place he couldn’t recognize. His head hurt and everything around him spun. He felt drugged, sagging against the restraints that kept him in an uncomfortably stiff chair. He tried to blink away what strain having his eyes open had given him, his gaze catching sight of someone standing before him. There was another person standing near him, he could feel the heat of their body close by, some strange instinct that Howard had come to realize was because of the magic in his blood.

At times like this he couldn’t blame Stephen for the powers when it turned out to be so useful. While he shifted, the voices that were hushed and muffled became louder. Howard did his best to glare, uttering a grabbled, “where am I?”

Surely the men would be stupid enough to gloat about their conquest. Kidnapping Howard Stark, what a feat to behold outside of war. He wondered how much they’d ask for before realizing it was 

[the-napoleon-blog]

"You really pulled it off. I'm impressed." The criminal hummed as his eyes first fell onto his new little play thing, delightfully tied up with a bow. Though honestly, was it any surprise? Sebastian had not disappointed him once with one of his pick ups, and even if this was a rather unusual case, it was only to be expected of the ex-soldier. 

His fingers entwined behind the taller man's neck, pulling himself against the other with a lustful smile. "Mm, I do believe some congratulations are in order? Quite an ordeal it must have been I'm sure." He teased with a soft purr, fingers trailing along Sebastian's jawline before nipping playfully at his lower lip. "No the real question is, do we do this here or-"

His attention quickly shifted as the man called out, pulling away from the sniper with a lingering brush of fingertips before taking a step closer. "Land of the free, and home of the brave. Not that it is any concern of yours. You will not be here long." He murmured, teeth flashing in a wicked grin. "Though I must say, you certainly do not disappoint. You had enough drugs pumped into you to kill a few bears. Wasn't expecting you to be lucid for at least another hour."

Without another word he pulled a small switchblade from his pocket, driving it into Howard's thigh until the blade met bone.

[tigerinthewest]

☤ - Plan Gone Amiss

[tigerinthewest]

Sheesh. A guy can’t soothe his own boss without getting mutilated. Sebastian wasn’t even tired but since he’d been dragged down to come sleep, he figured he’d get some shut eye. His breath was soft against the top of Jim’s head, his eyes closed, even as he took the time to gently pull the shorter man against his chest. If Jim wanted to move he’d have very little room to do so but that was beauty of ensnaring an irritable boss. Let him call the shots, assuming this was all his idea when honestly putting Jim to bed was all Seb’s insistence that the man rest. He was content to pass out. He simply needed to make sure Jim did as well. “Sleep.” He growled in reply, not giving Jim much else to work with to distract him from slumber.

[the-napoleon-blog]

Jim let out a long restrained sigh as he felt his sniper's warm breath brushing against his hair, allowing himself to finally unwind, if only a little, from the barrage of bullshit that had occurred today. His eyes kept close even as Sebastian pulled him closer, cringing a bit as his wound was shifted, but other wise rather enjoying the warmth. Not that such a thing would ever be said. Though truly, sleeping was the last thing the criminal wanted to be doing. Even under such circumstances, and even with his body beaten and battered, the allure of sleep had no hold. He detested wasting time, and to be left with his thoughts with zero ability to move from the bed without ripping open his stitched... This was sure to be a long evening.

"I wanted us to lie down, sleep is... Negotiable." He grumbled, tired boredom clear in his tone. His fingers danced across the back of Sebastian's hand, drumming silent beats as he attempted to find some form of stimulation. 

[tigerinthewest]

≛ - Wrapped up like a Gift

[tigerinthewest]

Once he got into it, nothing short of orgasm or a knife to the throat could stop him. Sebastian was used to taking Jim, used to being manipulated for Jim’s pleasure and he had no real opinion on the matter as a whole. Mostly because he was equally sayisfied, no matter what position they were in. Something about Jim had ensnared him. All those years ago when he’d been rebellious enough to try and kill him, he bloody well wanted to, needed it. But now all that aggressive died off, or as Jim said, put to better use. So yes. The soldier appreciated gifts like this.

Because there were times, Jim would still be calling the orders while he rode Seb’s cock, but this time around, the reins had been passed over. The admission made him fuck Jim harder, his hips snapping languidly into the tight heat, taking him the way they both enjoyed it. Sebastian couldn’t pretend he wanted to tease this out. He was about as high strung as Jim. Propped up on his knees, hands full of Jim’s skinny waist and not much to do with his mouth other than moan. Which he did because he wasn’t ashamed to voice his pleasure verbally, to egg Jim on with guttural groans and eager grunts. “F-fuck. Boss.”

[the-napoleon-blog]

The self inflicted internal destruction that constantly plagued the criminals ceaseless thoughts was silenced to a murmur at the back of Jim's mind. It was a rare occurrence, only cropping up when he was sufficiently entertained with one his little games. However, once in a great while, he would obtain such peace of mind with his sniper as we was tonight. Silly that, wasn't it? Getting fucked full force into the mattress by a man who has killed more times then he's had a hot meal, that was when his thoughts decided to subside. Perhaps it was simply the internal reassurance of not being in control of a situation for once, in a way, it was rather liberating.

Now that was just nonsense.

Jim's body shook wholeheartedly below the larger man, shoulders squared as he took each harsh thrust in stride, face buried fully in the duvet. His own sounds were muffled, jaw clenched as the sounds of Sebastian's moans filled the air around him, the rawness to each groan doing terrible, delightful things to the smaller man whether he would admit it to himself or not. He was at his limit. His hand snaked downwards between his thighs, taking secure hold of his length as his thin fingers worked full speed over the throbbing, slicked flesh. It didn't take long. His back arched, muscles tightening as a sharp shuddered moan ripped from his lips. Cum splashed over his hand and chest, his body shaking uncontrollably as white hot pleasure blanked any semblance of control.

[colonel-sebbmoran]

oh god help me i’m on a roll and i can’t stop

[hippano]

I was chatting with cheshiresden yesterday about creepypasta and was prompted to draw Jim in the style of Junji Ito. Creepy, no?? (⊙︿⊙) If you don’t know Junji Ito, he’s this incredible horror manga artist and you can find a ton of his work online. If you like creepy, check out Hanging Balloons or The Enigma of Amigara Fault. If you don’t like creepy, I’m sorry for giving you nightmares tonight.