Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."

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Prompting Part XXIV
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

IMPORTANT! Spoilers for aired episodes are now being allowed on this area of the meme, without warning. If you do not want to encounter spoilers, please prompt at our Spoiler-Free Prompt 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.
+re: hijacking.

Please refrain from hijacking a prompt. Hijacking may be defined as responding to a prompt by taking a portion of it and adding your own ideas about what should be added, changed or eliminated. In addition, commenting with off topic jokes or chatter.

By hijacking, the focus of the prompt can be lost, and inappropriate threads created. By doing this fillers may be discouraged which is something no one wants to experience.

If a prompt leads you to an original idea, please create your own prompt. The chatter or love posts are the proper places to share jokes or talk about prompts that have inspired you.
(prepared by anonymous)

Put links to 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, marill_chan and ellie_hell. 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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Post Reichenbach Fall

He came back wrong.

Re: Post Reichenbach Fall

John deals with Sherlock's sudden penchant for brains.

Fill : The smell of death 1/?

AN/warnings : This is... a horror story. Or at least, this is what my sleep-deprived self thinks horror is like when I'm writing things at 4 in the morning.
So, hum, yeah, there's no guaranty it will actually frighten you, but there is blood and gore stuff.

Sherlock Holmes had come back from the dead.

Of course it was only a metaphor. Sherlock Holmes was never dead, no ; Sherlock Holmes had faked his death in a way nobody really understood, but they had his word for it and the ultimate proof in a breathing, talking, thinking Sherlock waltzing around as if those past three years had never happened.

At first, John was so overjoyed by this sudden reappearance he didn't think much about it.

At least not until two months later, when he started to notice... things.

Like the fact that Sherlock was looking at him nearly constantly. Not in his usual "I am deducing your life" way, no. The stare he met whenever he turned towards his friend was absolutely, completely blank. It was like staring into the void. It was so wrong.

Whenever John met this empty gaze, Sherlock wouldn't move his eyes away, as anyone caught staring would do. He just stood there and kept on looking, fixed, not moving. John had tried on several occasions to engage conversation, to no avail. Sherlock just stayed still and looked, until someone or something finally diverted his attention.

They went back to going to crime scenes whenever Lestrade wanted their help, which was fairly often. John suspected the DI wanted to apologise, and offering Sherlock cases was surely one of the easiest ways to do it. Or it would have been, normally...

Except Sherlock didn't do his usual things. When they were called for murder, he would enter the scene and just stop dead in the centre, not moving an inch, for a long time. A very long time. Every crime scene the went to, every time.

Nobody remarked on it. Sherlock Holmes was a maverick genius who had just beaten Death itself after going through quite an ordeal. Nobody wanted to annoy him right now. And in any ways, after his little moment, he always gave answers.

But John noticed what was going on. Whenever they were called for a murder, Sherlock would stand in the room, and inhale. Long, slow breaths. John tried to copy him but he could smell nothing, nothing else than the stench from the body, the smell of blood, the smell of death. The smell of everything wrong in the world.

One day, as they were alone in the flat, John heard it. A low, buzzing sound, similar to one of a swarm wasps. And it was growing steadily louder as if the swarm was approaching. He frowned and looked around, inevitably meeting Sherlock's empty gaze locked on him, locked on his neck. Sherlock didn't so much as acknowledge John was looking at him. He didn't move.

John felt a shiver run though his body. But he could hear the buzz, and it was coming from somewhere around his friend. It took him a while to be able to find his voice under the unwavering blank stare fixed on his jugular.

"Did you... bring insects to experiment?" he asked. No answer, no movement.

John winced, suddenly aware of a cold sweat on his forehead. Unnerving. Those staring competitions were so unnerving. It made him want to run away, screaming his head off... But why? It was only Sherlock, his best friend and flatmate who had saved his life countless times before. No need to be afraid!

And still, he was afraid. And as the buzzing suddenly grew louder, dread replaced fear. It was definitely coming from around Sherlock... John blinked in surprise as it hit him. It was coming from Sherlock. This sound, now buzzing with the energy of an angry swarm of enraged wasps, was coming from Sherlock. It wasn't electronic, it wasn't coming from a phone or a device. It was organic, and coming from Sherlock, who was still staring at him silently.

John jumped as the phone started to ring, his heart skipping a beat. Sherlock sprung to life instantaneously to answer it. The buzzing stopped so suddenly it was as if it had never been here.

Re: Fill : The smell of death 2/3

John slowly grew more and more uncomfortable around Sherlock. He could see him staring, always, in the corner of his eye. His conversations were dulled and uninterested. The only moment when he looked properly alive was when smelling death. Because John had decided there was no other explanation -Sherlock just wanted to smell the stench of death.

This uncomfortable feeling soon grew into fear. Sometimes he could hear the buzz, but now every time he tried to focus on it, it disappeared.

John started to see large plastic bags in the fridge every day. He had learned long ago to never check look in detail at things in the fridge, no matter how curious it was. But something about those bags was making the hair on his neck stand up.

In the mornings, Sherlock would inevitably be up before him, and when John would come out of his room, it was to find his friend sitting on the sofa, staring into nothing. Until he noticed John and his gaze immediately shifted to him.

And some mornings, John would have sworn he could see a red liquid leaking from a corner of the detective's mouth...

John tried to rationalise, to tell himself he was being stupid. He forced himself to stay at Sherlock's side ; it was there his rightful place. Even when all his instincts were screaming a him to run away.


John always had troubles sleeping. And now he was constantly nervous, the troubles doubled.

And one night he realised. Eyes watching him, gleaming very faintly in the lack of light. John immediately turned the bedside lamp on, and then he was looking at Sherlock's blank stare, stuck on him. They both stayed silent for a moment, John looking back at him in utter shock, lost for words.

Then Sherlock stood up and walked out in a slightly crooked gait.
John stayed in his bed and kept the light on. He didn't close his eyes for the rest of the night.

The next day, Sherlock acted as usual, or as usual as he had been since his 'resurrection'. John asked him about what had happened, and Sherlock dismissed it, saying it was a dream and he was wasting his time if he thought he would dwell on nightmares when Lestrade had just called them with an interesting case. John decided to believe him.

He didn't sleep the next night, though. Nor the night after that.
And when one night he finally fell asleep in the dark, he woke up a few hours later to two eyes locked on him. Except this time, Sherlock got up immediately and ran out of the room. And when interrogated the next day, dismissed it once more.

John was completely lost. What should he do? Should he do anything at all? Was he turning crazy?!

The next day John woke up far earlier than was usual for him. No eyes staring back at him...

He walked out of his room, stretching. His yawn froze halfway through when he saw the scenery before him.

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Crouching on the floor of the kitchen with his back turned, was Sherlock. And on the table, in a plastic bag, was the dismembered body of a large dog seeping blood on the bag.

John couldn't see what Sherlock was doing, but he could hear. He could hear a squelching sound, and he could hear Sherlock chewing on something, he could hear his loud intakes of breath.

A sudden cold invaded John as memories of the war ran through his mind. The sound of flesh being torn out by bullets, the sound it made when he had to try to close gaping wounds. This was the noise.

And the buzz was there. It grew suddenly louder all around him, it drowned the sound of flesh ripping.

Sherlock seemed to suddenly sense his presence. He tensed and turned his head around. The rest of his body did not move. His head did a 180° turn as easily as if his spine had been broken at the base of the neck.

John was frozen in fear. The eyes were still blank, but something was dancing behind them. John could see the pupils shake like an old television trying to tune itself. And his skin was so pale, so much paler than it should be ; it was translucent.

The buzzing was deafening. Sherlock rose and turned his body around, following his head. He took a step towards him, and John freaked out completely.

He stumbled backwards before breaking into a run back to his room, closing the door behind him and leaning against it.

What was that. What was going on. What the fuck was happening. What was this buzzing noise and will it please shut the fuck up! It was hurting his ears and melting his thoughts.

The door shook behind him. John tried to push more against it, but it was useless. It banged open and threw him on the ground.

Sherlock entered in an unsteady, vacillating walk. He raised his arms towards John and his hands made gripping motions in the air as he approached. Something was scintillating behind his eyes, spots of dim light flying in his iris. His skin started bluging in places as if something trapped underneath it wanted to get out. A cracking sound rand out as Sherlock's right arm bent at an unnatural angle, the bone inside suddenly snapped in half by what was moving inside his body.

John didn't stop to think. He jumped to his feet and ran to his bedside table. He opened the drawer, took his gun. Took aim and fired.

Blood splashed back and hit him in the face. The buzzing stopped. Sherlock crumpled to the ground in a boneless heap.

John stood, his gun gripped so tightly in his hand his fingers were turning white. Every muscle in his body was so tense it hurt. His head ached. His heart was beating faster than it had ever done. His breathing was loud to his ears, his blood was pounding in his skull.

And Sherlock jumped back to his feet.

John's scream was cut short as the sound of flesh being ripped apart filled the room.

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Holy shit, holy shit, holy shit!

Is it mad that I found this gorgeous? It's mad, isn't it? It was... scary, eerie, chilling, wonderfully written and described and executed, fascinating to imagine what exactly could have happened to Sherlock but even more fascinating to have left it open to our imagination: this is everything I love to find in a horror story, everything, and that's why I found this utterly gorgeous and glorious.

You, whoever you are, you're amazing ♥

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Oh thank you!! that's a lovely review :D

of course it's only now I've posted it that I notice grammatical errors and stuff... I'm glad it doesn't hinder the story too much ^^"

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3


I just. God. I really shouldn't have read that in the dark. Scared the shit out of me. I've never read horror in Sherlock fic before but Jesus, you did it remarkably well. I especially liked that you didn't use dialogue; it made everything so much more detached and creepy. And Sherlock just staring at John, even while he's asleep. /shivers Oh man. No sleep for me tonight!

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3- OP

Dude... that was brilliant. So creepy. Had tingles creeping up my spine.

I had no idea what to expect with this prompt, but thank you for making it so awesome and unexpected. :)

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Holy shit, holy fucking RARGH what did I just read, never sleeping again EVER holy shit.

I am not hyperbolizing here, I am freaking out. The buzzing and the pupils jittering and Sherlock's fucking head TURNING A HUNDRED AND EIGHTY DEGREES sweet Lord I will never sleep again.

The pupils thing is fucking messing with me. Trigger warning for SHERLOCK'S FUCKING PUPILS.


Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Oh my God. Can't sleep, this creepy image of Sherlock will eat me...

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3


Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

...*wibble* O__0

Re: Fill : The smell of death 3/3

Holy shit, nonnie, this scared me so much I couldn't finish reading. xD Now I'm scared zombies will come and get me. *shivers*

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