Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."

Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Prompting: Part XVII
Giggles at the Palace
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.

Prompts from this post can be filled on the Overflow Post

+Anon posting is most definitely allowed, but not required.
+All kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance--whatever. Go wild! :D
+Keep things neat! Read prompts before you post to see if something similar has already been done, and while you are encouraged to prompt as much as you like, try to fill as well.
+Please do not re-post prompts unless the last time they were prompted was on an older part. Simply put: ONE posting of each prompt per part.
+RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme.
+Depending on the rate of activity, there may or may not be a prompt freeze when a part reaches 2000 and 4500 comments.
+However, there will be one when it reaches 7000. Also at 7000, after the freeze a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.
+Multiple fills are encouraged! :) Just because a prompt has already been claimed or written by someone, do not be afraid to offer up a second fill.

Put your fills here. There are instructions on the actual post. I ask that if the part you wanted isn't up yet, just wait and one of the archivists will get to it, but please, once it is up, please make sure you post your fills there according to the guidelines. DO NOT skip out on doing this because it seems like too much effort.
Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! The mods would be happy to explain.

Your mods for this meme are snowishness and marill_chan. If you have any questions, concerns, comments about anything at all on the meme feel free to send a PM or contact us via the Page-A-Mod post.

Please consider warning for triggery prompts (and also for fills, because some people read in flat view) and phrasing prompts in a manner that strives to be respectful.

Things which you might want to consider warning for include: Rape/Non-Con, Death, Suicidal Thoughts, Self-Harm, Underage Relationships, among others.

That being said, this is a kink meme. As such, there will be prompts that could offend you in a number of different ways. Not every prompt will have a trigger warning, and not every prompt will rub you the right way. If you have an issue with a specific prompt, feel free to bring it up in a discussion that takes place off the meme. However, flaming will not be tolerated regardless of origin.
You are highly encouraged to scroll right past a prompt that you dislike.

Remember, guys; Be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

Delicious Archive - Delicious Prompt Archive
Filled Prompts Post - Page-A-Mod

Check the Sticky Post to find a list of all the prompting posts.

Flat View of This Page

Love Post - Rant Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Off-Meme Sherlock RPF Request Post

Overflow Post

  • 1

Tentacles on Moriarty

What the label says. Like, do we even need an excuse for evil tentacles? NO we do not!

Re: Tentacles on Moriarty

As in "Moriarty is sexually assaulted by tentacles" or "Moriarty somehow has tentacles as a part of his body and uses them on someone else"?

Re: Tentacles on Moriarty

Oh God, I really hope it's the latter option.

Re: Tentacles on Moriarty

I second both of those.

Re: Tentacles on Moriarty (Anonymous) Expand
Re: Tentacles on Moriarty (Anonymous) Expand
Re: Tentacles on Moriarty (Anonymous) Expand

OP: Tentacles on Moriarty

I snorfled at both suggestions - hell. Both would be hot.

Moriarty assaulted by tentacles? mmmph.

Moriarty being his smiley and most likely non-con self? Oh yes.

Moriarty having tentacles and assaulting himself, because his tentacles are like an octopus's and therefore, having 2/3rds neurons in the arms, are semi-autonomous? And of course, the more he struggles, the more they grip for sex, because that's what male octopodes do to females? Moriarty is very narcissistic... He probably doesn't even mind. LOL

IDK Any or all of the options?

FILL #1: A victim and a monster (1/3)

WARNINGS - tentacle!fic: contains dub-con, creepily weird mutated split personality, disturbing sexual self abuse, general mindfuckery. I am not responsible for the bill of your psychiatrist if you decide to read this.

Moriarty was walking quickly down a corridor when he let out a low cry of pain and stopped, leaning against the wall. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself before resuming his pacing and finally reaching the room he was looking for. "No one is to enter this room," he said with a broken but determined voice to Sebastian Moran, his personal bodyguard who would be standing just outside. "No one, for any reason whatsoever. You got that?"

Moran gave him a quick nod and Moriarty walked past him, slamming the door of his bedroom behind him. He frantically got rid of his expensive tailored jacket, throwing it on the floor, and started working on the buttons of his shirt with shaky hands before groaning again through his closed lips.

"Please, stop it, it's too painful... Just a minute and you'll be free, stop it!" he murmured while finally letting the shirt fall on the floor, leaving his chest exposed. He stumbled forward and let his upper body fall on a table nearby, pulling himself up on his arms and letting out more strangled cries of pain.

He looked up and saw himself reflected in a mirror placed on the wall: he could look, look at his back and try to stop this... But he didn't move. He didn't want to look at the dark circles on his back, he didn't want to see those things come out of them, he didn't want to watch them grow longer and longer and wrap themselves around him and--

Jim closed his eyes. He had tried to get rid of them: he had cut them off, smashed them, squeezed them, even tried to burn them... But those things always grew back, always came back, always.

Most of the time the eight dark circles divided in two parallel rows on his back didn't hurt: the things stayed inside, quietly, leaving him be and letting him do his job. But in the evenings, every evening, he'd start to feel the dark patches of skin hurt and itch and burn and pull and push at the same time... That was when the things started to grow out of the dark circles of skin, out of his back, and that's when they stopped being painful and started making him feel completely different.

Moriarty screamed.

He let his forehead lean forward until it touched the hard surface of the table supporting him, hands grabbing at the hedges so hard that his knuckles turned white. He opened his eyes a fraction and saw himself in the mirror: eight grey tentacles were growing out of his back, each one slowly pushing out of the dark patches of skin that were burning and hurting, feeling like parts of his back were breaking open.

The tentacles were growing longer and longer and Moriarty squeezed his eyes shut. He didn't want to look at those things.

Minutes passed and it felt like hours. Moriarty didn't know how much he had screamed, he just knew that his throat felt sore and his back felt broken and the air was filled with unnerving swishing sounds.

A thick dark tentacle wrapped itself around Moriarty's neck and slipped under his cheek, forcefully but gently lifting his head up; another tentacle glided under his torso and under his arms, pulling him up; Jim was now leaning on the table with only his hands. He opened his eyes.

He saw himself, a horrifying mutated version of himself, and it almost made him sick. Six other tentacles were waving behind him, slowly starting to slide up his arms, among his hair, around his wrists, between his legs...

Moriarty closed his eyes and his hands tightened again on the hedges of the table. "Please, don't..."

He looked again into the mirror and his reflection showed a wicked smile playing on his lips. Moriarty closed his eyes again, struggling against the tentacle around his neck holding him up. "Don't, not tonight... Not ever, not anymore, please..."

The tentacle around his neck tightened in a warning and Moriarty's eyes flew open again. His reflection laughed.

OP: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (1/3)

OMIGOD wow! I didn't expect... THIS! It's like an alien in Jim, it's like part of Jim hates himself or is masochistic! This... is GREATNESS!
And not just because I actually feel a bit sorry for Jim, how is that even POSSIBLE!

I guess, whenever I start hating on Jim too much I'll come back here to think why we might feel sorry for poor little Jim!

FILL #1: A victim and a monster (2/3)

The sound made the tentacles stop sliding up his body so gently, he felt all of them tighten their grip at once and Jim whimpered. He knew what was coming, but that didn't stop him from being scared and disgusted. At the creature growing on his back, at himself, he didn't know anymore. Did it make a difference?

Another tentacle wrapped itself around his waist, the tip pressing down against his crotch and drawing another whimper from Jim. The one around his neck tightened his grip even more and its large tip started to slide along Moriarty's jaw and chin before pressing against his lips. He didn't want to open up, he didn't want to do anything to make the creature's work easier, but the last time he tried to keep his lips sealed and deny entrance to the tentacle, he'd been almost chocked to death.

Moriarty parted his lips with a sob and the thick tentacle slid inside, feeling warm and smooth against his tongue. It crawled in deeper and deeper and Jim forced his throat to relax, letting the tentacle slide in as much as he could. Suddenly he felt a liquid being released from its tip and he knew from past experiences that he had to swallow it or choke on it. He gulped down large mouthfuls of the strange liquid and instantly started to feel the change: he didn't know what the substance was but he could only guess it was some kind of unnatural aphrodisiac because every time, without failing, it made Jim feel pleasantly lightheaded and relaxed and hard. So, so hard.

He was already feeling the beginning of his erection pulling uncomfortably against his clothing. The creature somehow knew this because the tentacle wrapped around his waist pushed its way inside his trousers and pulled outwardly, ripping the fabric and soon leaving him in his underwear. He didn't stay like that for long because the thing quickly and none too gently pulled his pants down, leaving him exposed.

He sighed around the large tentacle between his lips and swallowed more of the weird aphrodisiac as the thing started to make slow movements, sliding in and out of his mouth in a rhythmic movement that couldn't help but stimulate him even more.

One of the still wandering tentacles creeped around his thigh and glided towards his crotch: Moriarty could feel that the tip of this tentacle was considerably less thick than than the others, he knew what the task of this tentacle was. It wrapped itself around Jim's half-hard cock and started to slide up and down the length, occasionally rubbing circles on the tip and drawing long moans from him.

The two tentacles wrapped around each of his wrists pulled him forward on the table and Moriarty fell on his forearms, letting out another sigh of pleasure as the movement slightly increased the pressure of the tentacle wrapped around his penis. He felt two others sliding around his ankles and spreading his legs, preventing any movement. Moriarty could only squirm. And he did so as he made a quick mental calculation and knew there was only one tentacle left.

He felt it sliding up his leg, circling his knee, touching his inner thigh and slithering up, up, up. The tentacle between his lips slightly sped up his movements, sliding in and out of his mouth more forcefully, sending more aphrodisiac down his throat.

Moriarty felt something oily and slippery being squirted between his buttocks and very soon the fat tip of the last tentacle pressed against his entrance. Jim let out a whimper: he was still feeling dizzy with pleasure, the strange liquid never stopping to flow down his throat, the tentacle in his mouth never halting his movements, the one on his prick still working up and down his shaft, but despite that the last tentacle was thick and strong and he hadn't had any kind of preparation. It was going to hurt and he knew it, but he also knew that the pain would mix with the pleasure and cause an explosive reaction. It always did.

FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3a/3)

The head of the tentacle pressed and made circling movements against his opening and slided up and down the crease of his buttocks before finally, finally sliding past the tight ring of muscles and making Jim moan: in pleasure, in pain, he didn't know anymore. He felt an uncomfortable and painful burning sensation as the tentacle slid inside, deeper and deeper, slowly but never stopping. The one between his legs kept his hold around his hard flesh, but the tip slithered down to fondle his tense testicles, circling them and squeezing them softly and sliding past them to tease the sensitive skin of Jim's perineum and moving back.

Moriarty moaned loudly again, his sounds muffled by the thick moving thing in his mouth. The tentacle inside him kept creeping in and Jim squeezed his eyes shut: just when he thought he couldn't take any more, the tentacle started to slide back out, leaving only the tip inside before moving back in with more force. It kept releasing the strange slicking substance around itself and soon the movements were more fluid and much more pleasant, the burning sensation replaced with a tingling one, like an itch Moriarty couldn't scratch and that was both being taken care of and being worsened by the large tentacle sliding in and out of him, opening him up.

Soon Moriarty's eyes flew open: the thing had brushed against his prostate and was now accelerating his movements, pouding mercilessly into him, stimulating that magic spot inside him over and over and over again.

Jim looked at himself in the mirror: something was dribbling out of his mouth, maybe his own saliva or maybe a drop of the strange liquid being pumped into him, he didn't know. His lips were stretched wide around the tentacle, shiny with spit, sliding in and out with faster movements, throbbing as if feeling the same pleasure Moriarty was feeling. He couldn't see the tentacles wrapped around his ankles, his head still held in place by the thing in his mouth and around his neck, but he could see the ones wrapped tightly around his wrists and arms, gripping him and keeping him leaned over against the table. His prick was hard, its tip red and leaking, mercilessly teased and pumped by the two tentacles wrapped around his waist. He felt stretched wide open as the thickest tentacle pounded into him, never slowing his movements, brushing as much as it could against his prostate, forcing him to feel dizzy with pleasure and bump repeatedly against the table, making it creak under the movements.

Moriarty's reflection looked unnatural. The eight tentacles protruding from his back, violating him, possessing him, making him moan and whimper and cry out in pleasure... It was unnatural and disgusting but Jim didn't seem capable to get a good grasp on those thoughts, he was far too lost in the sensations, the pulling, the burning, the sliding, the rocking, the pounding, the pumping, the teasing.

He felt a familiar feeling setting in his stomach and he knew he was close, very close. The creature knew it too and one of the smaller tentacles detached itself from around Jim's ankle and slithered up his leg. The thick tentacle inside him halted his movements and kept the pressure against his prostate, making him grunt and moan in pleasure and discomfort. The smaller tentacle was now joining it and glided inside, opening Moriarty up even more, stretching him, increasing the burning sensation and the pleasure while sliding in and out, in and out again, pressing, pulling, moving, pounding into him.

The air was filled with whimpers and grunts and swishing sounds and when the tentacle around his prick gave a hard tug and a final press against his tip Moriarty moaned loudly, coming in hot and long spurts, marking his skin, his tentacles, his table, his mirror, his reflection.

The tentacles inside him were the first to slide out, slowly, inch by agonizing inch, making his over-sensitive body shudder. Then it was the turn of those around his ankle and wrists, that gave his limbs a last squeeze before releasing him and keeping only a loose grip around him. The tentacle around his neck and inside his mouth tilted his chin up again and made him look at himself: he looked debauched, unnatural, wrong, wrong, wrong and so right.

FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

The thing between his lips stopped pumping the strange aphrodisiac down his throat and slid none too gently out of his mouth, making him gasp for air. The one wrapped around his prick and waist didn't seem to want to let go and resumed a slow pace on his softening and oversensitive shaft. Moriarty let out a whimper and whispered to the mirror: "Please... please, no more..."

The creature listened: the tentacle slid away from around his penis and all of them started to slowly glide back inside the skin of Jim's back, retreating and resting. Until next time.

Jim slumped against the table, his legs giving in, trembling all over and letting his head fall forward. He felt the effects of the aphrodisiac wear off, leaving a million sensations against his skin: touched, hurt, burned, used, abused, better, worse, frail and strong, disgusted and pleased, a victim and a monster.

His cheeks felt warm and wet and he realized he was crying. He slowly raised his head and looked at the mirror: the tentacles were gone, the creature was sleeping. And his reflection wasn't grinning anymore.

A/N: as you can see, dear OP, I took your suggestion (Moriarty having tentacles and assaulting himself) and thought about it and this is the result. Also, this is my first time writing this sort of horrific thing and I actually had tremendous fun doing it, WHAT HAVE YOU DONE TO ME ANONS! So, as I said, first time doing this, so I'd love to hear what you think. Also if you noticed I wrote "fill #1" next to the title and that's because apparently I'm a deeply disturbed writer whose muse was inspired by all three suggestions of tentacles!Moriarty and I'm planning on filling all of them. ALL ABOARD THE EXPRESS TO HELL, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN! *choof choof*

OP: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

*Has the grin of a satisfed cat just now*

Sexy, disturbing, a touch pitiable. The victim/monster thing was well played. GREAT work.

Is going to carefully wrap this fic up in a nice box with shiny paper. Share it with a friend. Take it out and admire it every so often.

*Grabs hold of ring for ride on express train* This will be fun!
As to being a disturbed writer, well... patpat, Anon. I am thrilled you took up the challenge. Moriarty with tentacles! As far as interwebs can tell me, it's one of the few and possibly the first! Yay!

OP again (Anonymous) Expand
Re: OP again (Anonymous) Expand
Re: OP again (Anonymous) Expand
Re: OP again (Anonymous) Expand
Re: OP again (Anonymous) Expand

Re: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

Well written... and strangely hot *hides*

Re: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

Dude, /awesome/. I hadn't come across this kind of self-molesting tentacle porn before. Mind if I link this up on my tentacle!fic post, when I eventually get around to updating it? (Yes, I have a tentacle page. I figure commenting anonymously is a moot point by now for me :P)

Re: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

Woah. Holy cow, this was INSANE. Insanely messed up and insanely weird and insanely HOT. If you do write more like this, I will be ALL OVER IT, I promise you.

Fan Fill for Anon - 5 Times Moriarty's Tentacles Were Naughty, and One Time They Were Nice

For you, my newest internet friend, LOL. Based on your description of Moriarty's tentacles. Expect crack. No, it's not done yet. Yes, I think Moriarty in my crack-verse is totally a squealing Japanese schoolgirl fanboy of Sherlock.

5 Times Moriarty's Tentacles Were Naughty, and One Time They Were Nice, But Not In Any Chronological Order.


Moriarty is SO excited.

It had been a breeze, flirting with that wet Molly Hooper, using her in order to meet Sherlock face to face. Sherlock Holmes. He hitched up his underwear, which were getting more uncomfortable the more he thought about him.

I wonder if he'll know it's me/Of course he'll know!/Oh boy oh boy oh boy!

The tentacles on his back give a great throb, as if of displeasure at the trend of his thoughts.

Piss off! He thinks angrily. Not even you lot can spoil this moment. They vibrate, then subside sullenly.

He pokes his head through the door, playing 'Jim from IT.' All awkward and starstruck, except of course, he isn't really playing. Starstruck, that is. Look at him. Perfect!

Sherlock looks him up and down with that cool gaze of his, and dismisses him. Dismisses him! “Gay.”

Oh like you're not, for all you act so aloof! How could he not know it's me/Thank god he didn't guess/Who is Mr. Clever Trousers now huh Sherlock?

Utter GLEE.

Moriarty throws a quick glance at that upstart nobody John Watson. He moves away from Molly and between John and Sherlock possessively, hovering over Sherlock's shoulder. MINE. Palming the paper with his phone number, he knocks over the metal dish, and puts it back with the note underneath.

“Sorry! Sorry!”

John turns away (in embarrassment at his pretended clumsiness?) and suddenly starts, straightening up quickly. He steps quickly away from Moriarty and folds his arms, turning his back.

Jealous much, bitch?

It is perfect. His satisfaction and lust are like candies melting in his mouth. Oh, Sherlock. What I wouldn't give... His tentacles again pulse warningly against his back, distorting the fit of his tight t-shirt. Uh oh, must dash before things get out of hand.

He arranges a quick after-dinner drink with Molly (wish it was with you, dearest Sherlock) and says goodbye, looking longingly at the man.

“It was nice to meet you.”

There is no response. Sherlock only tightens his lips and steadfastly looks into the microscope. Disappointed, Moriarty takes his leave.

Until next time, darling boy.

Once beyond the doors, he hurries quickly to the nearest W.C. to get himself in hand.


“...and I'd say you'd better break it off now and save yourself the pain.”

Molly looks at Sherlock with furious disbelief and pain in her face, shakes her head slightly, and slams out of the lab. Sherlock watches her with an air of real puzzlement at her actions.

John grimaces slightly. “Charming. Well done.”

Sherlock turns to him. “Just saving her the time. Isn't that kinder?”

“Kinder?! No, no – Sherlock, that... wasn't kind.”

There is a pause. John shrugs a shoulder.

“You're right though. A poofter, through and through.”

“You agree then?”

“Well, in spite of the fact that he could hardly tear his eyes away from your gorgeous self, he did manage to find time to pinch my arse.”

Sherlock looks surprised. “You, too?”

“Yes! Wait... he goosed you, too?”

Sherlock taps a finger against his lips. “Moves quickly, does Jim from IT.”

“Yes. Poor Molly. Well, maybe it was kinder to tell her.”


The detective and the doctor look at each other.

“You're surprised he pinched me?”

“Not at all, John. You know I think you are quite fit. And... you think I'm gorgeous?

John smiles his sweet quirky smile, eyes crinkling with amusement and fondness. "Vain."


Moriarty tears the headset off and throws it across the room.

“Damn it. Damn it. Damn it!!!”

The bug he'd placed in the lab had recorded the conversation after he'd left. He was bloody FURIOUS.

“You!” he spins in a circle, trying to reach the spots on his back where the tentacles come out. “You did this!”

The tentacles withdraw away from his groping fingers into indentations, and quiver. He could swear they are giggling.

Moar Anon love from OP (Anonymous) Expand

Re: FILL #1: A victim and a monster (3b/3) [END]

I was having a crap day, this is just what I needed to distract me. Thank you!

FILL #2: Oblivion (1/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)

A/N: this can be seen as a sequel to my previous fill since I consider them to be set in the same ‘verse (the thread has gotten a bit out of hand, you can find fill #1 here: 1/3, 2/3, 3a/3 and 3b/3), but I guess they can be read separately if you wish to do so: there wasn’t much of a plot in fill #1 and there’s only the hint of a plot here, so do as you please. This is ideally set right before the events taking place during the canon story The Final Problem (Switzerland is mentioned).
Now for some WARNINGS: violence, minor character death, weird tentacle!sex (dub-con, sort of consensual), general darkness and mindfuckery. If these things don’t make you wish to carve out your own eyes then please, go ahead and read and let me know what you think!

Moriarty heard a smacking sound and a low groan as he approached the end of a badly lit tunnel in one of his most secret hideouts: a gloomy underground maze with iron walls and artificial lights creating sinister shadows in the corners.

He didn't mind the shadows: what he did mind was not knowing where his enemy was headed. What he did mind was seeing his men waste their time instead of finishing the simple task at hand. What he did mind was having to get his own hands dirty to get the job done.

He marched towards the door at the end of the barely illuminated tunnel and the guard standing outside immediately moved aside to let him pass. Moriarty opened the door and slammed it behind him. "You've been down here for hours with her, what's taking so long?" he asked with a low snarl in his voice.

Two men and one woman's heads snapped up to look at him: they were standing around a figure slumped in a chair. Anthea had her hands tied behind her back, numerous bruises on her cheeks, a trail of blood flowing out of her temple and the corner of her lips.

The three thugs looked at each other nervously before one of the two men took a step closer to Moriarty and tentatively started to talk. "She's tougher than she looks, sir, which isn't a surprise," he paused with a little cough before continuing. "Her boss probably had her trained to endure this kind of treatment—"

Jim snapped. "I don't care what Mycroft Holmes has trained her to be, I want you to break her!" he growled while walking towards the man who had just spoken: their difference in height was considerable, Moriarty was a lot smaller than the muscled heavy man in front of him, but the rage and power he was exuding made the man want to shrink in fear and disappear in a corner. "I need a location," Moriarty murmured in a low dangerous voice. "I need to know where Sherlock and his bloody pet are going because you see, if I don't know where they are I can't follow them. And if I can't follow them I can't kill them." He paused to slide his hand against the man's chest and up to his neck before gripping it tightly. "And if I can't kill them I'll be a very, very angry man and you know what I do when I'm angry?"

The man was choking on his breath, his face quickly becoming red under Moriarty's deadly grip, but he didn't dare to stop him.

Jim abruptly let go and pushed him against the wall. "Get out!" he snapped with a loud voice. "Get the hell out, I'll deal with this."

The three thugs moved quickly across the room to reach the door: the woman looked for a second behind her and saw Moriarty turning towards Anthea with a deathly glint in his eyes. It could have been the bad light in the room or the weird feeling the gloomy underground building had over her, but she could have sworn she'd seen a strange movement under Moriarty's jacket, on his back. A shiver ran up her spine and she hurried to close the door behind herself, following her two fellow criminal colleagues down the corridor.

"Whatever's happening in that room, I really don't want to see it."


Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (2/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)


Anthea groaned as she heard the door slam. She lifted her head not without difficulty and saw a small dark-haired man standing in front of her: he was carefully unbuttoning his tailored jacket and letting it fall on the floor, hands moving to do the same to his tie and shirt.

"You know who I am, don't you?" the man asked.

Anthea didn't answer and did the same thing she had done for the past two hours: she closed her lips in a tight line and took a deep breath, trying not to lose her nerves.

Moriarty smiled. The sight of those white teeth surrounded by a cruel smirk sent shivers down her spine.

"Of course you know who I am, you work for the man who knows everything about everyone," Jim went on, shirt joining the jacket on the floor and pale skin starting to cover in goose bumps. "You also know something I really need to know," he spoke in a low voice while leaning to whisper in Anthea's ear. "Where is Sherlock going?"

Anthea didn't move a muscle.

Moriarty started to nuzzle her hair with his nose, moving down to her temple and her cheek, murmuring against her abused skin. "I know he's going somewhere, a little vacation with his pet," he inhaled against her lips and placed a hand on her neck. "Tell me where."

Anthea opened her mouth and spit blood on Jim's face in response.

Moriarty straightened up, cleaning the blood away with the back of his hand. His eyes seemed to turn darker in the low light of the room and if Anthea had known all along that she wasn't going to get out of there alive, now she was sure it was going to be as unpleasant as possible.

She prided herself in being always calm and collected, even in desperate and dangerous situations, but when she looked up at Moriarty she couldn't help but let out three words in a shaky murmur. "Oh my God..."

Moriarty groaned in pain while eight smooth, dark grey tentacles emerged from his back, smiling at the uncomfortable feeling despite the pain. He set his gaze on the scared woman tied to the chair and let out a low chuckle. "I'm sorry, darling, I don't have much patience," he said while a tentacle flew towards Anthea's throat and curled tightly around it.

Two more tentacles wrapped themselves around her waist, while the others shoot out to slither over her legs and arms. She heard a sickening sound of flesh ripping and then she screamed: she couldn't look down but she felt as if hot blades were pressed against the skin that those things were touching, cutting deep and slicing up and slashing down.

Moriarty looked with delight as his tentacles sank their teeth in the creamy skin of their prisoner. "Why, that's a surprise..."

He leaned closer to Anthea and chuckled. "I'm terribly sorry, I didn't know my friends here had teeth... Fascinating how we learn new things every day, isn't it?"

Anthea threw her head back and let out another ear-splitting scream.

Moriarty patted the tentacle closer to him and murmured, "Let her go."

But the fangs seemed to sink even deeper in the flesh, ignoring him.

Jim squeezed his hand around the smooth surface of the tentacle. "I said let her go!"

The creature listened this time and Anthea could feel the teeth retreating. She groaned in relief and pain, but the feeling didn't last long as the tentacle around her neck tightened its grip.

"As you can see I don't have full control over them," Moriarty explained with a sickening smile that faded away as he spoke his next words. "Sometimes they just do what they want and I can't stop them..."

He looked away from Anthea towards a dark corner, apparently lost in painful memories. A tentacle slid around his shoulders and gripped his chin, bringing him back to reality and turning his face again towards Anthea. A cruel tight-lipped grin appeared again over Moriarty's features.

"Now, let's try this again," he said as the teeth of the creatures slowly pushed out of their hidden place inside the tentacles, pushing painfully against Anthea's skin without breaking it, making her whimper. "Tell me where will Sherlock go..."


Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (3/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)


Sebastian Moran didn't need to know where they had taken the prisoner: he could have just followed the gut-wrenching screams and he would have found her without any problem.

He stopped outside the room and leaned against the wall: he desperately wanted to just slam the door open and see what Moriarty was doing, but if he had to be honest with himself he was scared. Scared of what he could find in that room.

The three thugs he'd met not a few minutes ago were talking in hushed whispers when he'd found them. He had asked what they were doing there and why they weren't taking care of the prisoner and they had explained how Mycroft Holmes' assistant wasn't willing to talk, how Moriarty had barged in and taken over, sending them away.

And now Sebastian was listening to the woman's loud screams of plea and he couldn't help but wonder: "What's happening to you, Jim?"

He waited outside for what felt like hours before suddenly all the noise ceased. A deathly silence was filling the air when the door at the far end of the corridor opened with a creaking sound: Moriarty walked out leaving the door wide open, hands buttoning his shirt and jacket draped over his arm.

The sniper pushed away from the wall and walked up to his boss, blocking his path. "What happened in there?"

Jim looked up and smiled. "Switzerland, my dearest Sebastian! Switzerland!" he cheerfully said while leaving his shirt only half buttoned and grabbing Moran's arms. "Sherlock Holmes is going to hide in the Alps, oh what a beautiful place to die... Are you ready for a trip, Seb?"

Sebastian looked over Jim's shoulder and took a quick peek inside the room: it was empty apart from a chair and the dead body still tied to it. The corpse of the woman was mangled and bloodied but he couldn't see any weapon on the floor or anywhere else that Jim could have used to massacre her like that.

Moriarty turned to speak to the guard still standing just outside the room. "Clean it up."
The guard nodded and walked towards Anthea’s body, hands immediately flying up to cover his mouth and try to block the retching sounds coming out of it.

Sebastian's gaze moved back to Jim's dark and smiling eyes and he couldn't suppress a shiver. He put his hands on the consulting criminal's shoulders and dragged him against the wall, lowering his voice to a whisper. "What have you done? How— how did you do that? What is happening to you, Jim?"

Moriarty's smile disappeared as his face twisted in pain and arched against the wall, letting out a low grunt. Moran's hands were still on his shoulders, keeping him steady on his feet. "What's happening? Are you hurt?"

Jim shook his head and tried to get away from Sebastian's grip. "I'm fine, I just― need to go. Be sure that room is cleaned up, it's rather disgusting."

Moriarty took a few steps along the corridor before another groan escaped his lips and he had to lean against the wall to avoid falling on the floor. Moran's hands immediately went back to his shoulders, helping him, before sliding up to Jim's cheeks and forcing the Irish man to look at him. "Just— Stop for a second and tell me what's wrong! You just slaughtered a woman in there with your bare hands, you're not fine!" Moran took a deep breath to compose himself before continuing. "You've been acting strangely for weeks, more strangely than usual," he said in a low voice while keeping his hands on Jim's face. "You don't trust people, but you've always trusted me... Why are you not trusting me with this?"

Moriarty tried to get out of Moran's grip again before another sharp fit of pain coming from inside him ripped through him and he fell against his sniper, gripping his shoulders. He let his head rest back against the wall as he breathed heavily through the pain.

"They want to come out again."

Another painful push against his back.

"They want to touch."

The first patch of skin was starting to break, making room for the creature.

"I want to touch."

Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (4/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)

Moriarty gasped as another painful tug sent him tumbling on the floor.

Sebastian helped him up and Jim leaned against him, struggling to lift his head and look at his sniper's eyes. "You really want to know what's happening to me, Seb?" he said in-between huffs of pain.

Moran just nodded, adjusting his grip around the man's shoulders to keep him upright.

"Then I’ll show you."

Moriarty started to slowly walk down the floor, limping as if every single step was as painful as walking on shreds of glass. Moran stayed by his side, not letting go and tightening his grip until they reached yet another room with iron walls that had been furnished with elegant wooden furniture that looked oddly out of place: Jim's bedroom.

They closed the heavy door behind them and Moriarty’s hands immediately turned the key, locking them inside. He breathed a sigh of relief as he always did when the creature started to move inside him and he was safely hidden from prying eyes, almost forgetting his sniper was there with him this time.

He let out another cry of pain as his shaking hands started to fumble with the shirt buttons.

Moran looked alarmed. “Where are you hurting, Jim? What is going on?”

Moriarty squeezed his eyes shut. “Just— Get me out of these clothes.”

Sebastian’s eyebrows furrowed in a confused expression for a second before another pained groan made his hands fly to the shirt and start unbuttoning it with haste. He walked behind Jim to help him out of expensive garment when he saw them: eight round, dark patches of skin on his boss’ back, pulsing and breaking, but strangely not bleeding.

“Jim... What are these things?” the sniper asked while a hand tentatively leaned forward to brush the tip of his fingers against the blackened skin.

Before he could react the tip of a smooth tentacle spurted forward and latched itself around Sebastian’s wrist. The cry that filled the air was halfway between surprised and horrified.

“What― Jesus, Jim, what the bloody hell have you done to yourself?” the man exclaimed while his free hand quickly retrieved his old military knife from his pocket to cut himself free from the thing around his wrist.

Moriarty noticed him and swiftly turned around to smack his hand with a loud, “No!” sending the knife flying before it fell on the floor on the other side of the room with a thud.

Moran watched in horror as more tentacles grew from the consulting criminal’s back, swishing around them and creeping towards the sniper’s body. He’d seen battles and blood and death, but he had never seen something like this and for the first time in his life Sebastian was paralyzed with fear.

One of those things wrapped itself around Moran’s waist as Moriarty stepped closer: the man wasn’t in pain anymore, the creature was out and free and ready to explore. He smiled eerily as his hands slid up Sebastian’s chest in sync with a tentacle, fingers and unnatural limb caressing his neck. “You feel so warm, Seb, warm and nice and strong... Will you let us touch you?”

Moran looked at Moriarty in the eye and he almost couldn’t recognize the man he was seeing: he knew Jim, he’d seen him at his best and his worst, shared a loyal friendship, an alliance, a twisted relationship even. But the man he was looking at was different, changed, morphed into something new and terrifying. “What happened to you, Jim?” he asked again in a low voice for what felt like the hundredth time.

Jim’s tentacles were insinuating under Sebastian’s shirt, caressing the hot skin and making the sniper involuntarily shiver and step impossibly closer to Moriarty: the tentacles looked cold but they felt warm and soft against his naked back. They felt pleasant and he couldn’t let that affect him, not now.

Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (5/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)

Jim’s firm hands unbuttoned the sniper’s shirt and roamed on his chest before Sebastian grabbed the man’s wrists to stop him. He wanted to ask again what the hell was going on, stop whatever Jim was trying to do, make him sit and talk about— He didn’t even know what he wanted to talk about, it was all too surreal. But the sudden movement of Sebastian grabbing Jim’s wrists was seen as a threat by the creature and before he could talk various tentacles quickly rushed forward to stop him: one tightened around his neck, two others grabbed his arms, who knows how many more trapped his legs and forced him to move backwards.

Moriarty grinned. “I’m sorry Seb, you can’t treat me like that: my friends here are very protective of me, you see.”

The strong tentacles moved Moran until he hit the edge of the bed with his legs. Jim’s hands were working on both of their trousers, opening them and letting them fall on the floor carelessly while a tentacle each flew downward to shrug them out of the discarded clothes. Sebastian tried to keep his feet firmly attached to the ground, not wanting to make those things’ work any easier. “Jim, please, stop for a second, let’s talk about this... Tell me what happened to you, how―”

He was interrupted by Moriarty’s hand slapping him hard, making his head twist to the side while his cheekbone burned for the contact. The tentacle around his neck made him turn again towards his boss, who gently cradled his head between his hands and placed a chaste kiss against his lips. Moran couldn’t help but lean forward at the contact: he had missed Jim, the complicity they didn’t trust to share with anyone else, the nights after difficult days spent in each other’s arms. It wasn’t romantic, far from it: usually it was rough, fast, hard, exactly like they needed it to be. They needed a reminder, something to feel alive, and sex was the best thing that could help them.

Moriarty deepened the kiss that quickly turned from chaste to hungry: teeth scraping lips, tongue pushing against tongue, groans filling the air around them along with swishing sounds. “I don’t want to talk,” Jim said when they finally separated, mumbling the words against the sniper’s neck in-between open mouthed kisses and hard bites. “We just want to touch you, Seb, you feel so warm... Will you let us touch you?”

Moran let out a groan: while Moriarty was talking one of the tentacles slithered down his back between his legs and started circling the tight ring of muscles of his opening. He was horrified, with himself and with Jim and with this entire situation, but he felt aroused by all that was happening: the feel of Jim’s mouth against his skin, the kisses, the touches, those warm things wrapped around his arms and legs and torso... He couldn’t help it.

Moriarty grinned as if he had read his thoughts. “That’s good, Seb, that’s right. Let us touch you...”

He pushed Moran against the bed as the creature forced him to climb on it, crawling on his knees against the cold dark blue sheets, arms still trapped and mostly unable to move or do anything besides squirm.

Jim followed, shuffling close to him and sliding their half hard cocks together, drawing a satisfying groan from them both. A tentacle wriggled between them down their chests and wrapped itself around their hard shafts, pulling them even closer together and starting to slide up and down their lengths with a slow rhythm. Sebastian let his head fall back as Jim latched his mouth again onto his neck, resuming his kissing and sucking and biting, leaving a trail of angry red marks on his skin. Another one of those unnatural limbs slid again between Moran’s buttocks: the tip couldn’t be larger than a finger, maybe two, and the sniper felt a familiar burning sensation as it pushed against his opening and breached him, sliding inside inch by inch aided by a strange slippery substance that the tentacle had seemed to produce from within itself.

Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (6/8?, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)

”God, what am I doing,” Moran thought. He didn’t know anything about this horrible creature that had been assimilated in Moriarty’s body: it could have been dangerous, lethal even, for them both but he just couldn’t stop. He felt himself grow warmer by the minute, his cock getting harder and louder groans slipping from his lips. He felt as if he’d been drugged, the touches of those things against his sensitive skin sending shivers up his spine. Jim moved his mouth up to nibble at his ear before murmuring, “Feels good, doesn’t it?”

Sebastian nodded, letting out another groan as the tentacle inside him slid in deeper. “It always feels good,” Jim continued. “They always make sure it feels good.”

The sniper felt another tentacle creep up his inner thigh, thick and wet and smooth. It joined the one already inside him and started to push its fat head against his opening. Moran groaned. “Relax,” the smaller man whispered against his neck, hands softly caressing the man’s hips. “Open up, Seb, it’ll feel good.”

Moran squeezed his eyes closed. “I— I can’t, this―” the man shook his head a little, feeling a little more clear-headed. “Jim, stop, we need to talk, understand what—“

But the creature didn’t want to understand. Moriarty didn’t want to understand. Moran felt the tentacle around his neck quickly slide up against his jaw and insinuating itself between his lips, muffling any word that the sniper was trying to say. He felt a warm liquid being shot down his throat and he swallowed to avoid choking on it: he didn’t know what it was but he immediately felt even warmer if that was possible, relaxed, aroused, eager, his thoughts pleasantly silenced, his mind focused only on the pleasure he was feeling all around.

His body opened up enough for the thick head of the second tentacle to push inside him, making him moan loudly, burning sensation unpleasant and pleasant at the same time. The two things inside him started to slide in and out with slow movements: he could feel how eager they were, how hard they wanted to just thrust into him again and again, but they forced themselves to be slow, gently opening him up. Maybe it was Moriarty commanding them, he didn’t know anymore how they worked. He couldn’t think.

The tentacle wrapped around both of their erections didn’t stop his slow teasing touches as Jim spoke again. “Do you like to feel them inside you?” he asked and Moran could only groan in response around the tentacle still shooting the strange liquid down his mouth. “Do you feel full, Seb?”

He groaned again as the thicker tentacle inside him brushed against his prostate. Moriarty bit down hard on his neck. “Imagine how full you will feel when we are both inside you, my friends and my cock. Would you like that, Seb?”

Moran nodded as another touch to his prostate made him arch his back and squirm his trapped body. ”I don’t know if I can take both of them... God, I want to, yes Jim, please― Both of you, please!”

The sniper felt the smaller tentacle slide out of him as the ones wrapped around his legs, waist and arms forced him to move around, shuffling on his knees until he was facing the headboard of the bed and Moriarty was kneeling behind him. The thing in his mouth kept pumping the strange aphrodisiac down his throat, making little sliding movements in and out of his lips. He felt Jim against his back as the criminal’s hands and unnatural extra limbs slid up his torso in a gentle gesture that would have made him laugh hysterically if his mouth hadn’t been full.

Moriarty’s forehead pressed against the back of Moran’s neck as his hips pushed forward: one of the last free tentacles was guiding the smaller man’s hard prick over the sniper’s stretched ring of muscles and they both groaned when he slowly slid in, pulsing cock against thick tentacle pushing in, deeper and deeper, inch by inch.

It was both agonizing and blissful: Moran felt full, open, sensitive, overly stimulated. The smaller tentacle that was previously inside him was now wrapping itself around his leaking cock, slim tip teasing his head, sliding down to fondle his testicles and rub circles against his perineum before repeating the process over and over again.

Re: FILL #2: Oblivion (7/8, second part in the Tentacles on Moriarty 'verse)

Jim groaned loudly as he buried himself balls-deep inside Sebastian. He stilled for a minute, letting his sniper adjust to the feeling and rubbing his nose against the man’s sweaty neck. “You feel so good around us, Seb, so warm and good...”

Sebastian moaned as he felt the tentacle inside him brush again against his prostate. Jim started to slide out with slow movements before slamming back in: his patience was now over and soon the slow rhythm he had built with the tentacle was replaced with quick and hard thrusts, pounding inside the whimpering sniper.

Moran felt like it was all too much and not enough: his cock was hard and pulsing and leaking and being mercilessly teased by the thin tentacle around it; with every thrust Moriarty took his prostate was stimulated by the fat head of the thing inside him; his trapped arms and legs were being constantly caressed and every inch of his skin felt on fire. He wanted more and he needed to come and he couldn’t, moaning and groaning in pleasure and frustration around the big tentacle still pumping in his mouth, swallowing down more of that pleasure-inducing liquid.

Jim’s hands slid down to grab his hips and Sebastian groaned again as he felt nails digging into his skin: he couldn’t separate pain and pleasure in his mind anymore, everything was intertwined in a blissful mix of feelings and all he could do was push back against Moriarty, against the tentacles, groaning, moaning, pleading for it all to stop and never cease, muffled sounds trying to be words wishing for release.

Moriarty bit down on the sensitive and red skin of his abused neck. “God, the sounds you’re making— You want to come, don’t you?” he groaned as one of his hands slid back up Moran’s chest to grab the sniper’s neck. Sebastian let his head fall back against Jim’s shoulder as he kept pounding into him, bed creaking underneath them. “Beg us, Seb,” Moriarty murmured while his hand tightened around the man’s throat. “Beg us to come.”

Moran moaned around the tentacle in his mouth, pleading eyes trying to look up at Moriarty’s, hips moving in synch with the criminal’s hard thrusts, cock being pumped slowly and firmly, head red and glistening with semen.

It was when the thick tentacle inside him stilled and pressed continuously against his prostate that he groaned even louder: he came in long and strong spurts that stained the dark headboard in front of him as his cock was still being caressed through his orgasm. Moriarty felt the muscles tighten around his prick and it took only a few more hard thrusts before the pressure became too much and his release overtook him, feeling his hot semen both on his cock and on his tentacle, their tentacle.

He rode out his orgasm and stilled inside the sniper, forehead resting against the warm neck in front of him and tentacles keeping both of them from falling on the bed in an exhausted heap of limbs, pink and dark grey.

The tentacles never stopped moving entirely, making slow caressing movements on their skin as the one inside Sebastian’s mouth slipped out with an obscene sound, letting the man gasp and breathe normally again.

As Moriarty slipped both his cock and his tentacle out of Moran’s body the hand still wrapped around the sniper’s neck slid up against his jaw and made him turn his head to place a wet kiss on his lips. He grinned when they separated, a hand and a tentacle wrapping possessively around Sebastian’s waist. “There you have it, Seb: this is what’s been happening to me.”

FILL #3: Seed (third and last part in the 'Tentacles on Moriarty' verse) 1/7

A/N: last fill from me, folks, finally you’ll be rid of me! Moriarty will especially be happy about that, I have the feeling he was not too happy about being the target of my evil evil tentacles. Anyway, onto the actual author’s notes: personally I wrote this as a prequel to the other two fills I worked on for this wrong oh so wrong prompt, but can be read on its own without any problem. Once again some WARNINGS, just to be on the safe side: this is a tentacle!fic, it contains creepily sentient tentacles sexually assaulting a person, non-con/dub-con (more non-con than dub-con), a minor character death and some violence. Read at your own risk, enjoy the ride, let me know what you think, I’ll be in Hell waiting.

The modern laboratory was well lit by the neon lights placed above the two men dressed in white labcoats. All around them beakers and chemicals fumed and hissed, a number of previously pristine blank boards were covered in scribbled numbers and complicated equations, papers and pipettes and Petri dishes scattered over a long counter.

One of the two men was tall and thin, with long but perfectly combed grey hair and a matching beard. A little over 60, the man had had a brilliant but secret scientific career and little did he know that it was about to be abruptly cut short within the next ten minutes. Doctor Lysander looked at his younger companion clad in a labcoat and smiled in excitement. “I think we are ready for another test,” he spoke with a German accent.

The other man flashed him a grin and looked up from his notebook, where he had been checking a long series of numbers. “Excellent, I was getting rather tired of spending my evenings cooped up in this place.”

Lysander chuckled. “You should have devoted yourself to science like me, not to numbers and business, my young friend.”

“Science is too... unreliable for my taste, numbers and business on the other hand are two things I can work with.”

The German doctor smiled again as he turned towards his scientific equipment to prepare them for the latest test. “We have been working on this for months, Professor, we are on the verge of an important discovery… Are you still not going to tell me your name?”

The Professor grinned, looking at Lysander’s back. “If I told you my name, then I’d have to kill you.”

The doctor chuckled again, oblivious to just how serious the Professor was being. “Numbers and secrecy, those are your real passions, I see!”

The younger man stepped closer to the counter with the notebook still in his hands, eyes scanning over the numbers once again. “Are you sure this time?”

Lysander nodded. “Your calculations should be correct.”

The Professor let out an impatient, angry sigh. “Should be correct? My calculations have always been correct, you just applied them in the wrong way.” He grabbed the German man by the lapels of his labcoat and glared at him, noses almost touching. “You better be right this time, doctor, I am not a patient man.”

Lysander stuttered as he spoke. “Y— Yes, Professor, I know... It will work this time, I am sure.”

The smaller man let him go and resumed his smile, although a deathly glint kept shining in his eyes. “Shall we, my dear doctor?”

Lysander nodded with a quick and nervous jerk of his head, slightly trembling hands moving to grasp beakers and pipettes.

5 Times Moriarty's Tentacles Were Naughty, and One Time They Were Nice - Overflow

Link to the overflow post for this story... No, I am sorry, it's not done! Just one teeny piece left to go... So close!

Overflow posting for 5 times Moriarty's Tentacles...

  • 1

Log in