I'll stop them from laughing.

My name is James Moriarty but just "Jim" is fine.

I'm fourteen years old, and I made this blog because I was bored with everything else life had to offer.

Care to have a chat?

Tag as Consultingcriminaltobe


Delusions for 3 hours. 

It started with a nightmare. Jim isn’t surprised or shocked by it, they’re practically nightly and he’s used to waking up in a cold sweat, screaming and scrabbling for his life in search of his bedmate (Richard or Sebastian that evening, depending) and curling under their arm, trembling until he finally calms  down. But tonight’s terror contains different content, a fear he harbors while awake but not usually asleep, and the paranoia doesn’t seem to go away. 

He awakes to blinding white walls and screaming all around him, a faceless nurse shoving a needle into his arm. He screams and jerks off the bed, falling through the floor as it shatters. He lands atop bodies, some are screaming and writhing and other are still as night, and although he knows it must reek of death and blood and piss, he can’t smell anything at all. He can barely see, he feels like he’s s͟u̷ff̕ǫca҉ting,  like someone is slowly shutting off his senses. He stumbles like a blind animal, opening his mouth to scream, though no sounds come out. An impossibly large (though skinny) man with long blonde hair is at the door’s he’s managed to reach, picking Jim up and cradling him. He comes to the conclusion that they finally admitted him, though he’s surprised it’s taken them this long. The man carries Jim’s limp and bloodied body, tossing him into a room with a bed and cuffs for his wrist and ankles…and most horribly- his neck. He pounds on the door, screaming and wailing, before a man with a rabbit head and a lab coat opens the door to his room, it’s eyes red and practically glowing.

The person standing before him looks perfectly normal in the real world and Jim is simply banging on the door to their flat. If he had even half his senses he would realize it’s someone he knows…and as they open their mouth to speak the sounds come ga̷͢r͠bļ̕e͝ḑ̀͠ to Jims ears, but he recognizes the tone and tries to focus. 

"Why are yo͢u,́ y҉o̸u͜ of́ a͝ll͏ peopl͟e ͢tr̕y͡ing̡ to d̡o ̶t̸ḩis to ̴me?́!͘”̀

  1. consultingcriminaltobe reblogged this from risingsebby and added:
    Jim smiles and nuzzles sebastians neck. “Youre the best.”
  2. risingsebby reblogged this from consultingcriminaltobe and added:
    "Yeah, good things." He nods reassuringly, "S’always good things when it’s about you."
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