#brookiarty

Okay. I’m bored I want to write.

I’m currently taking prompts for:

Jim/Sebastian

Jim/Richard

Jim/Richard/Sebastian

Sebastian/Richard.

Hit me up with a prompt in my askbox, it can be one word, or a whole paragraph, whatever strikes your fancy.

At this moment in time, I’m not writing porn (which is weird given the ships, but still.) That doesn’t mean to say that I won’t write something with sexual undertones, just no outright porn, sorry.

Okay.

First 5 people to send a prompt to my ask will get it filled. Maybe not right now but sometime in the next few days. I really need to sort out my writing.

I will write drabbles for any pairing with Jim Moriarty, Richard Brook and Sebastian Moran in any variation. I'm willing to attempt Sev, but I've never written him before and don't really have a character structure for him so it's likely to be crap.

Also, I won't write porn. I'll write things that are sexual in nature, sure, but no outright porn/smut of any kind. It takes too much effort.

Sorry it's so short, and not very good >.<

Richards bottom lip trembled softly as he held the photo album to his chest tightly.

"You said I could keep it" he protested, looking over at his brother pleadingly. Jim just rolled his eyes.

"Yes, that was before we needed to erase all traces of our previous existence. It's a security risk Rich, we can't just have pictures of them lying around if we're going to pretend they never existed!" he was flicking the lighter on and off idly. "Either you give it to me, or I'll make you burn it."

Richard glared at him for a minute or so. "I don't see why we have to pretend like they never existed anyway, why can't you just leave it be? They're dead, it's not like anybody could threaten you with them anyway."

Jim sighed, closing his eyes and reminding himself that this was Richard and he'd give in eventually, there was no need to hurt him. He smiled at the younger twin momentarily. "Even if they were alive, a threat against them would hardly be of any concern. Why do you care so much Rich? It's not like they ever cared about us." he reminded him.

"Ma did." Richard replied softly. "We used to be happy, do you remember? Before she got sick? They used to take us to the beach every Sunday, and she'd make cake and we'd eat it but it would be all sandy and you used to complain because the sand would stay in your hair for days." he smiled to himself at the memory before looking back over to his brother. "This is all I have left of that, even if you don't care about it, I do. Please don't take that away from me."

There was a long silence between the two, in which Jim just stared at Richard and the younger just bit his lip and shifted uncomfortably under the gaze.

"One" Jim said eventually, breaking the silence, Richard looked up hopefully.

"What?" he held the album closer to his chest instinctively.

"You can keep one picture, we burn the rest. And for God's sake don't ever lose it." Richard grinned, nodding in agreement, it was the best he'd get from Jim and he knew not to argue or his brother would just change his mind.

"Okay, okay. Thank you." he knew exactly which one he would keep, and started flicking through the album to the page he knew his favourite picture to be on. He smiled as he pulled it out of its protective plastic case, looking at it for a moment before handing the rest of the album over to Jim. "Thank you." he repeated, slipping the picture inside his wallet as he watched his brother set fire to their family photo album.

I'm currently taking prompts for:

Jim/Sebastian

Jim/Richard

Jim/Richard/Sebastian

Sebastian/Richard.

Hit me up with a prompt in my askbox, it can be one word, or a whole paragraph, whatever strikes your fancy.

At this moment in time, I'm not writing porn (which is weird given the ships, but still.) That doesn't mean to say that I won't write something with sexual undertones, just no outright porn, sorry.

Jim Moriarty/Richard "Brook" Moriarty

Jim Moriarty/Richard "Brook" Moriarty/Sebastian Moran

Sebastian Moran/John Watson

Jim Moriarty/John Watson

Things that I am not getting enough of:

See above

Anyway, to make a long story short: send me one word prompts, send me two word prompts, or I don't know, longer prompts!  whatever you fancy and I'm going to write something. I can't promise that I'll get to all your prompts todaaaay because I'm actually at uni right now and my internet at home is really fucking up lately. 

But do that and I'll be very grateful. I ship mormor, obviously, and all the variations that come with that ship such as brookiarty and mormormor or whatever you call it, Severin Moran even.

So yeah, send me prompts and then we'll see if I can actually write. 

By pakost

(I’ve never done Richard before unless it’s Jim being him so don’t blame me if he sucks okay)

Richard fidgets nervously as Jim ruffles up his hair, eyes soft and wide as they watch his brother. They should be mirror images of each other, but personality bleeds through into appearance. Jim is sharp, cold, controlled. Even stripped of his sharp suits and designer labels, he can strike the fear of God into Richard clad in loose fitting pyjama bottoms and a v-neck. Has done several times. Richard on the other hand is soft, warm, undeniably gentle.

Jim steps back, admiring his now disheveled hair. He unbuttons another button on the shirt he’s dressed Richard in and the other man pulls his sleeves down over his hands in a nervous motion. He thought he had escaped Jim, broke away from his influence. He hadn’t heard from his brother in years, but it would seem all it takes is Jim snapping his fingers and Rich will come running back. Well, that and one lap dog assassin who’s willing to fetch when Jim tells him.

“I don’t want to do this.” His voice is weak even to his own ears, no bite to it. Not like Jim’s. Jim looks like he’s about to smirk at the pathetic effort, but he hides it easily and puts a hand to Richard’s cheek. Richard nearly flinches away to the touch but manages to hold his ground. No. He won’t give in to Jim. They’re not children anymore. He’s not some small, timid thing that Jim can order about.

Except he kind of is.

“Richie,” Jim purrs, voice low and soft, like velvet or melted chocolate, something comforting and lovely. Richard knows it’s an act, knows that Jim can slip in and out of character just as easily as he can, but something in him relaxes at the sound. “You’ll do this one little thing for me, won’t you? For your brother?”

Richard’s lips part to argue that it’s not a ‘little thing’, that Jim is asking him to sacrifice his identity, his career, everything he is and has just for his stupid little game. Jim doesn’t give him that chance to get out words.

“I love you, Rich. Do this for me.”

Richard knows it’s a lie. Part of him flares up angrily at the words. Jim doesn’t love him. Jim doesn’t love anyone except perhaps himself, but the same part of him that softened at the purring voice squirms hopefully. He’s wanted to hear those words for years. He doesn’t dare believe them, but his body leans slightly closer without his consent. With a sigh of defeat the resistance drains from him.

“I love you, Jim.” He raises a hand, laying it over the one on his cheek. “I’ll do anything you want.”

“Excellent.” Jim grins, clearly pleased by this. He pulls his hand back, twirling and pacing out of the room, shouting instructions to Sebastian. Richard stands alone in Jim’s bedroom. A broken shell of a man looks back at him from the mirror. He takes in his new appearance. Fragile. Disheveled. Scared.