I'm part of the Baker Street Babes podcast, subscribe below!
I'm also one of the tag wranglers for the AO3.
Moriarty smiled his adder’s smile.
And I relaxed. I knew. My destiny and his wound together. It was a sensation I’d never got before upon meeting a man. When I’d had it from women, the upshot ranged from disappointment to attempted murder. Understand me, Professor James Moriarty was a hateful man, the most hateful, hateable, creature I have ever known, not excluding Sir Augustus and Kali’s Kitten and the Abominable Bloody Snow-Bastard and the Reverend Henry James Prince. He was something man-shaped that had crawled out from under a rock and moved into the manor house.
But, at that moment, I was his, and I remain his forever. If I am remembered, it will be because I knew him. From that day on, he was my father, my commanding officer, my heathen idol, my fortune and terror and rapture.
God, I could have done with a stiff drink.
- Kim Newman, “A Volume in Vermillion”, collected in Professor Moriarty: The Hound of the D’Urbervilles
AKA more things that are really not solving my Moran problem…