Fic rec: We Ain't Born Typical by pasiphile
Title: We Ain't Born Typical
Author: pasiphile
Pairing: Moriarty/fem!Moran
Length: 9459 words
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Violence, racism, sexism, classism
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: They're both outcasts - even if it's for very different reasons - who trust no one but each other, want no one but each other, and it's not so much love as symbiosis.
Jim and Sev, growing up together.
Reccer's comments: This is a really stunning take on Moriarty's childhood, that works really, really well with the slippery, psychopathic BBC version of this character. Little Jim Moriarty is just a little - off from the getgo, and this fic gives him a backstory that explains every little thing about him as an adult. As well-executed as that is, Moriarty isn't the star of this story - it's Sevita Mukherjee, a young Indian girl coming into her own in the threatening and violent world of Aylesbury in the eighties. This reimagining of Sebastian Moran is so brilliantly envisioned that she will take your breath away with her fighting spirit and stark rebellion against the fate projected on her as a brown socially disadvantaged woman. I am someone who rarely reads Moriarty-centric or Moran/Moriarty stories, but pasiphile is one of those writers who will give you a version of these characters that will touch you deeply, whether or not you were interested in them from the start or not. In this version, with one half of the couple genderswapped, pasiphile also shows us just how subversive het stories can be, when executed well.
She doesn’t ask do you have to go, because he wouldn’t do this to her, to them, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. And she doesn't ask are you coming back either, because she’s long learned Jim doesn’t like stupid questions.
“Then I need you to do somethin' for me,” she says, after a while. She presses the butterfly knife into his hand and turns, swishing her braid over her shoulder.
He smiles, crookedly. “You should really do this yerself, you know,” he says.
“Yeah, but I want you to do it.”
“I know.”
He takes her braid, his knuckles resting against the back of her neck. The knife saws through her hair and the braid falls to the ground with a soft thud, it’s that heavy.
They tilt their head in unison, looking down at it. It looks like a weird, thick, hairy snake. Sev bends down, takes it, and throws it into the fire.
“There,” she says. “Finally.”
Author: pasiphile
Pairing: Moriarty/fem!Moran
Length: 9459 words
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Violence, racism, sexism, classism
Verse: Sherlock BBC
Author's summary: They're both outcasts - even if it's for very different reasons - who trust no one but each other, want no one but each other, and it's not so much love as symbiosis.
Jim and Sev, growing up together.
Reccer's comments: This is a really stunning take on Moriarty's childhood, that works really, really well with the slippery, psychopathic BBC version of this character. Little Jim Moriarty is just a little - off from the getgo, and this fic gives him a backstory that explains every little thing about him as an adult. As well-executed as that is, Moriarty isn't the star of this story - it's Sevita Mukherjee, a young Indian girl coming into her own in the threatening and violent world of Aylesbury in the eighties. This reimagining of Sebastian Moran is so brilliantly envisioned that she will take your breath away with her fighting spirit and stark rebellion against the fate projected on her as a brown socially disadvantaged woman. I am someone who rarely reads Moriarty-centric or Moran/Moriarty stories, but pasiphile is one of those writers who will give you a version of these characters that will touch you deeply, whether or not you were interested in them from the start or not. In this version, with one half of the couple genderswapped, pasiphile also shows us just how subversive het stories can be, when executed well.
She doesn’t ask do you have to go, because he wouldn’t do this to her, to them, if it wasn’t absolutely necessary. And she doesn't ask are you coming back either, because she’s long learned Jim doesn’t like stupid questions.
“Then I need you to do somethin' for me,” she says, after a while. She presses the butterfly knife into his hand and turns, swishing her braid over her shoulder.
He smiles, crookedly. “You should really do this yerself, you know,” he says.
“Yeah, but I want you to do it.”
“I know.”
He takes her braid, his knuckles resting against the back of her neck. The knife saws through her hair and the braid falls to the ground with a soft thud, it’s that heavy.
They tilt their head in unison, looking down at it. It looks like a weird, thick, hairy snake. Sev bends down, takes it, and throws it into the fire.
“There,” she says. “Finally.”