Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."

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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!

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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*

Moar Anon love from OP (Anonymous) Expand

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."


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...

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