Sherlock Imagines [ Book 2 ]

When They Call My Name [ J.M. ]

Type: Songfic [ A Verse of When They Call My Name by Black Veil Brides ]

Pairing: Jim Moriarty x Reader

Warnings: mental breakdown/depressing thoughts, minor self harm, FIRST GENDER NEUTRAL LOOK AT ME GO

These thoughts'll kill me and everything that I hold true

Jim Moriarty wasn't always insane.

At least, that's what he's been told.

He chooses to believe that he was always crazy, always a bit off the rocker and people just didn't notice until it became heavily apparent in his actions. He refuses to believe that he's ever been sane, the very thought of his mind not being a whirling wind of chaos just seemed so boring.

But every once in a while, the bloodlust adrenaline that fueled his actions died and left a man rocking back in forth in the corner.

As I grow, I let my fear replace my youth, I won't turn back

I won't cross that hidden danger line

While most people would describe him as the mad genius who's cool and collected rather than foaming at the mouth in a straight jacket, they also see him as the cold-blooded killer who felt nothing. The sociopath who never got caught.

If only they knew how wrong they were.

Because every once in a while there was a night like tonight, and they always left him with a bittersweet feeling.

He's seated in the corner, back against the wall with slender pale fingers tangled in his unkept raven locks with the threat of tears looming over him. He's a mess and he knows it but he can't help it.

He locks away every hint of guilt, any anger or sadness brushed off to the side like he didn't have a care in the world.

However, on nights like tonight, his walls come crumbling down and the thought of breathing becomes a dreadful one as his lungs are filled with a suffocating sadness and his mind with thoughts he knows he'd never be able to drown out on his own.

These nights become harder and harder, he's unable to make himself care about anything or one. All he can hear is his thoughts screaming at him, fingers twisting further into his hair as he grips his head in an attempt to get a grip on reality to keep him from fading away and being wholly absorbed by the self-decapitating thoughts that threaten to rip him apart.

Any hopes of being independent have withered away, of being able to hold up these large burdens that eat away at his strength and his strained shoulders give out.

He can't handle any of this on his own.

It's a loud and dark world but I think I've found the light

I need you to tell me everything will be alright

But he doesn't have to.

In this whirlwind of heartbreak and guilt, he is not alone, for he's finally found his anchor.

He doesn't have to dig his nails into his skin until crimson beads in hopes of feeling pain, something to show him that he's alive.

He hears the door creak open, socks pad across the floor and in his direction.

He doesn't bother looking up as fabrics rustles, sliding down the wall beside him. He feels fingertips touch his arm, warmth blooming at the touch even when he feels that his heart had completely frozen over. He leans into a warm body, resting his head against a chest and inhaling sweet smell of ( preferred pronoun )

Lips press against the top of his head, no words spoken because none were needed.

He does feel alive.

He can feel the small circles being rubbed into his back and faint breath ruffling his hair.

He can hear the comfort of the heart beating inside the chest he's leaning against.

He refrains from curling even further into himself and finds it easier to breath as his shoulder is given a small squeeze, lips brush his ear and the voice that silences the storm murmurs the only thing he needs to hear.

"I'm here."

I need you to tell me everything will be alright

To chase away the voices in the night

When they Call My Name

a/n

NEW BVB ALBULM IN SIX DAYS SCREECH

how's life

hope you're doin good

love y'all 

bye bye fo