sherlockbbc_fic: (Giggles at the Palace)
sherlockbbc_fic ([personal profile] sherlockbbc_fic) wrote2013-09-29 04:24 pm

Prompting Part XXXIV


GUIDELINES

  • Anon posting is not required, but most definitely allowed. If you think you recognise an anon, keep it to yourself and don’t out them. IP tracking is off, and will remain that way.

  • Multiple fills are encouraged, and all kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance — whatever. Go wild! :D

  • Don’t reprompt until TWO parts after the last posting of the prompt.

  • RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme.

  • Concrit is welcome, but kinkshaming, hijacking, and flaming are not tolerated.


THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
When you fill a prompt, please use the appropriate Filled Prompts Post to archive your fill (there are instructions on the actual post).

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, 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. If you want your fill to make it to the Delicious archive, that’s the way to do it.

Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! The mods will be happy to explain.

WARNINGS/OFFENSIVE WORDING IN PROMPTS
Please consider warning for prompts that may trigger people (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 past any prompt that you dislike.

Remember: be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

THINGS THAT MAKE BROWSING THE MEME EASIER FOR EVERYONE
Please nest your fills. Doing so will make it easier for archivists to save your fills to the Delicious archive. Using subject lines will also help people reading the meme in flatview keep track of what’s happening. Finally, titling your fills (even if it’s something silly) will be helpful to those tracking a lot of prompts or scrolling through the meme.

PROMPT FREEZES
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. After the 7000 comments freeze, a new part will be posted, and all prompting should happen on the new part.

CONTACTING MODS
Your mods for this meme are [livejournal.com profile] ellie_hell, [livejournal.com profile] charname, [livejournal.com profile] anonspock and [livejournal.com profile] anonbach. 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.

MEME LINKS
Pinboard Archive - Delicious Archive - Guide to the Archive
Filled Prompts Posts: Parts 1-23 - Parts 24+ - Spoiler Free
The Glorious FAQ - Page-A-Mod

Flat View of This Page - Newest Page in Flatview - Newest Page of the Meme

Love Post - Chatter Post - Searching Post
Concrit Post - Story Announcement Post - Orphan Post
Spoiler Free Prompt Post - Overflow Post

Links to previous prompting parts

OTHER LINKS AND AFFILIATES
sherlock_rant: A place to rant about or discuss anything with few to no restrictions.
sherlock_rpf: This is a kinkmeme for RPF about the show.
[livejournal.com profile] sherlockcrit: A multi-fandom betaing/concrit community, with a focus on BBC Sherlock.
sherlockbbc: A community dedicated to the BBC adaptation of Sherlock Holmes.
Useful resources for Sherlock and LiveJournal.
Sherlock screencaps.

NOTICE: All links on the meme are now being screened because of spambot issues. When you submit a comment containing a link, it will be marked as spam. Please don't worry, the mods will unscreen it as soon as they can.

FILL from anon #2: So I Ran to the Devil (3/5) NON-CON

(Anonymous) 2013-11-20 01:55 pm (UTC)(link)
Moriarty leers down at Sherlock as he retracts the blade of the knife and stashes it back in his pocket. "Off with your clothes, dear," he says, sweeping a hand along the line of Sherlock's prostrate form in a loose gesture.

Sherlock rises from the bed. He manages to keep his hands from trembling as he lifts them, undoes the button of his suit jacket with a stiff, mechanical movement and lets the garment fall to the floor.

"With feeling, love," Moriarty chides, drifting closer to Sherlock and tilting his hooded eyes up at him expectantly.

Sherlock tamps down a flare of anger and makes a show of slowly unbuttoning his white button-up shirt. Lips curving into a feral grin, Moriarty drinks in the clean, angular lines of his chest, flicks a thumb over one taut brown nipple. Letting the shirt slip fluidly off of his shoulders, Sherlock toes off his shoes and socks, then proceeds to unzip his fly.

Moriarty's smile widens wolfishly as Sherlock's trousers slide down his legs to join the rest of his clothing on the floor. "Don't be shy, darling," he says, casting a pointed look at Sherlock's pants. "I'm sure a medical man like Doctor Watson's seen plenty."

Sherlock hooks one finger around either side of the waistband of his pants, his face a hard, impassive mask. Cool air kisses his naked skin as he pulls the pants down his narrow hips and then steps out of them.

Fingers curl around the length of his cock, lifting it out of its nest of dark, wiry curls. Moriarty gives it a couple of quick, perfunctory tugs, then leans in close and tells him, "End of the bed. Hands and knees. Facing your dear John."

Sherlock walks over to the end of the bed and climbs up onto it on all fours. Pressing his left cheek against the mattress to shield his face from John's view, he sucks in a deep, steadying breath through his nostrils. This is nothing, he tells himself, as he hears Moriarty padding over, feels a single finger slither down the curve of his bent spine. He has shot poison into his veins, gone days without eating, rushed headlong into the thrill of a case, only to come out purpled with bruises. What is one more indignity visited upon his person, one more abuse of his flesh, if it serves a greater purpose?

Hands grasp his buttocks, pry them apart, and he can almost feel Moriarty's gaze run over the exposed skin of his cleft. The pad of Moriarty's left thumb begins skating back and forth across the dry pucker of his anus.

"What a luscious arse," Moriarty says softly. "Such a sweet little hole just begging Daddy to give it a nice hard fuck."

Sherlock hears John shuffle in the chair. "I will end you," he growls, low and furious. "I swear to God."

"Shut up, John," Sherlock commands in a rumbling snarl. "Shut up and keep still."

Moriarty chuckles, a dark, breathy sound. His thumbnail presses down into Sherlock's anus hard. Sherlock stifles a wince, and then he feels Moriarty's hand retreat, hears the metallic growl of a zip and the whisper of shifting cloth.

John, Sherlock thinks, as Moriarty's grip digs into his thin hips and pulls his arse back forcefully. He anchors himself to the single pure syllable as he uncouples his mind from his body, pushes down the fury, humiliation, and fear making his heart hammer hummingbird-fast until there's nothing in his head but grey buzzing fog.

There's a sudden, searing flash of agony as he's breached, and he clamps his jaw shut to keep from screaming. Moriarty plows in another inch, then another, and he clutches at the bedcovers, teeth gnashing. Pain bursts red behind his screwed-shut eyelids, and he forces himself to draw sharp, staccato breaths through his nose. He pictures John, imagines him easing into his body in a gentle, lube-slick slide with a look of guilt-stricken horror. I will bear this, he vows silently, as Moriarty nestles against him at last, the fabric of his trousers tickling the backs of his bare thighs.