#Sherlockchallenge

[elennemigo]

(police) TAPE for @sherlockchallenge

[khorazir]

“Ashtray”

For this month’s @sherlockchallenge : Royal

[smarthily]

For @sherlockchallenge​​ June prompt JOKE

[bluebellinbakerstreet]

@sherlockchallenge March Prompt: Shadow

[lisbeth-kk]

The secret writer

Sherlock is about to reveal his secret. On Rosie's birthday. Will John understand what this means?

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51123676

@sherlockchallenge @flufftober @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @safedistancefrombeingsmart @topsyturvy-turtely @gregorovitchworld @helloliriels @peanitbear @calaisreno @meetinginsamarra

[guardmesherlock-rowan]

January Prompt: 'Envelope' the final part

For @sherlockchallenge January's prompt: 'envelope'

Finally, the OCs I think would have been either fun in the game or ones I think would work in the Guard Me Sherlock Universe

Erik Leroux, 'Irene', JD Fletcher, my take on Jekyll/Hyde, and Aggie under the cut

Erik Leroux

“Hold still.” Erik sternly whispered as his cold hand brushed over MC’s cheek, moving a stray hair back into place. They thought his lip twitched in an almost smile before they met his golden eyes, his expression softened and then he stepped out of their way and counted quietly, “three… two… go.”

MC left on their cue and entered the stage with a well rehearsed huff. “You cannot tell me you seriously believe a word out of his mouth.” They growled at the woman on the stage with them.

She gasped, sinking into the couch as if it would swallow her whole.  “You heard-?”

“I heard enough.” MC waved their hand dismissively. “He’s just a thief, he’ll use up what little money our mother left us, and then he’ll-” MC felt something softly land on their head, their hand reached up and plucked the small envelope out of their hair, “what in the world?” The actress yelped as she jumped back as paper fluttered to the ground around the two of them.

MC looked up into the rafters, but couldn’t see anything past the stage lights and the dozens of envelopes fluttering down.

“Stay calm, everyone!” The director jumped up, scrambling onto the set, but too late as MC opened the envelope and found a simple card with a red skull and a warning, ‘You heard my demands, this is your last warning.’

MC looked over to see the director, pale faced as he tried to sweep up all the cards into a pile. “Erik! Grab me a garbage bag, and you-” he looked at MC, “give me the card, it’s nothing, just a stupid prank.” He laughed nervously.

MC turned their attention back to the card and the handwriting they recognized from the notes they had been personally receiving as well.

Irene

MC had never seen the Moriarty estate this lively.  The room echoed with the sounds of laughter, music, and gossip.  But they had lost track of James at some point. Looking through the crowd they did see Jack and Sebastian at opposite ends of the room, but MC’s attention was drawn to a familiar woman that they’d been seeing a lot of. The so called Irene spoke with guests, and even at a distance MC could feel Irene’s gaze.  For a moment MC froze, but just as they started moving towards Irene she was also on the move. MC tried to follow but quickly lost track of her. They looked around and only found her again just as she slipped out.

The sounds of the party were still prevalent in the hallway as MC tried to follow Irene. It had only been a week since the strange woman who had appeared and told MC she was the real Irene, like MC’s character from Midfall Murders. The person who seemed to be appearing everywhere MC was.  Why was she in the Moriarty estate?

MC crept along the hallways, listening for anything to give Irene away. They sighed, believing they had lost her and thinking they might as well return to the party and continue looking for James. Just as they started to turn to head back they felt a puff of air on their neck, they yelped in surprise and spun around. Irene’s smirked, her eyes twinkling with mischief. “Jumpy, MC?” She purred her question.

“I think anyone would jump if someone snuck up on them, but… what are you doing out here?” MC took a step back as Irene moved closer.

“I would ask the same of you, but I believe we both know that you are more than welcomed here.” Irene reached out and gently smoothed MC’s hair back into place. “I can see why he is so enamored with you, and your portrayal of ‘Irene’ on the screen was well done.  But you should be-”

“Oh dear, looks like we have found some lost kittens.” James chuckled as he rounded the corner, he smiled at MC but his gaze quickly went to Irene, “do you two lovelies need to be escorted back to the party? Or maybe, MC, did you miss me and come to find me?” He took their hand, and led them away from Irene, placing himself between them. “And you… ah, I do believe you lost this.” He pulled out an envelope from his pocket and held it to Irene.

She gave him a similar smile, “what gave you that idea?” Ignoring the envelope James held out her.

The two of them were still as they regarded each other, only moving when a few more guests slipped out into the hallway and made their way over to James.  In that moment that MC had looked away, Irene had somehow slipped away. “Where did-?” MC stepped forward, but Jame’s arm slipped around them, holding them close.

“Seems your friend isn’t one for a party, pity, I would very much like to meet her. You should introduce us when you have a chance.  Do you see her often?”

“Irene?” MC glanced at the envelope he tucked safely into his pocket. “I see her around.”

James gave her a wider grin, “you will have to let me know the next time you see her.”

JD Fletcher

“Thank you, MC.” JD smiled at them, setting the envelopes in front of them.  She had called MC over to talk about her latest book, but when MC arrived JD was fighting with her printer, trying to get it to print labels for the envelopes in front of her.

“You could do evites instead.” MC laughed looking over the list of addresses.

JD shook her head, reaching for a pen. “There may come a day when my publisher will have me do that for my book launching parties, but right now I would rather keep it personal.  Some of these people and I have been friends for a while.  It would be weird if I didn’t send them an invitation they could hold.”

MC grabbed half of the addresses before taking a drink of their tea. “I suppose I should just be thankful that you aren’t having us stuff glitter in the envelopes too.”

“No…” she paused, smirking mischievously at MC, “but maybe next time.”

“Well, if I get one I’ll have to be careful where I open it.”

JD reached out and pressed her palm to MC’s knee, her eyebrows drawn in a serious expression, “of course you’ll get one. I wouldn’t have it any other way.” With a gentle pat she turned to her envelopes. “I would say last chance to back out of helping me with these, but I cannot keep you here.”

“I’m happy to help.” MC smiled, especially when they read the first address on their list, one they could skip since they could just bring the invitation home with them.

Hound

Charles Baskerville smirked at him, and Henry did his best to remain calm. He sat back in his chair, remaining composed. “Look, ‘Edward’,” Charles called him by his fake name, and leaned on the table, sliding an envelope across to him. Henry didn’t even need to open the envelope to know that the thickness was his cut of the winnings from the last fight. “If you want to see more of this you better get used to answering your phone and coming when you’re called.”

“And you need to remember our deal, I will fight for you when I want to.” Henry tapped his finger on the table. He knew that if he tapped just right the solid wood would give way under his fingernail and he could dig into it, and there wasn’t a small part of him that didn’t want to. Just so he could, and maybe he’d stab this damnable bastard with a sliver big enough-

“You’re anxious for another fix, aren’t ya?” Charles barked a laugh at him, causing Henry to still. “Well, that’s perfect! There’s another match tonight, and I think my ‘Hound’ would wipe the floor with the lot of them.”

“The answer is no.”

Henry was clear in his answer, but the way that Charles’s face twisted had him on the edge. “Why the fuck not?”

“I have tickets for a play tonight, and I’m not going anywhere else but that.” Henry dragged his nails along the table as he stood up, the scraping sensation gave him the headspace to breathe. His attention went to the envelope and quickly tucked it away.

“Sure Ed, sure… well… text me when you’re ready for a party tonight.” Charles was smirking again, looking at the table. Henry followed his gaze and saw the marks he left on the surface.  He glanced at his fingers and saw little bits of blood where the splinters had fought against him. He felt cold as he sought any sensation of pain that should have accompanied the injuries he saw on himself.  “See you later, Ed.” The man laughed.

Henry took a deep breath, closing his eyes and his fist. Trying to breathe, trying to shake the urge, trying to ignore the ghost of the taste of his special ‘elixir’ on the back of his tongue and the satisfaction of the cash in his pocket.

Aggie

She had barely answered the video call when the elated squeals caused her computer’s speakers to complain. Agatha laughed as she recoiled from the sound, shaking it off she turned her attention to the screen. “Sweetpea, please.”

Jane giggled out her apologies, “but look!” She held up a large stack of different misshaped envelopes. “Can you believe it? And these are just the ones Diana and I have opened today! There was a lot more yesterday.”

“And what are these?” She tried to get a better look at the envelopes, presumably more fan mail, but Jane hadn’t been one to boast about how much attention she received.  Actually, she wasn’t sure if Jane realized how much fan mail she got.

“Okay, so apparently there was a letter writing campaign to try to get Midfall murders another season.”

“So they’ve been writing you?”

“They’ve been writing the studio, and the studio is asking for assistance in going through the letters.” Jane smiled as she opened another envelope.

Diana’s voice came through the speakers somewhere off camera. “And of course our Janey volunteered to help.”

“Well, you know Midfall Murders has an important place in my heart,” she huffed but there was still a smile on her face. “So, of course, I volunteered.”

“And?  Is there a verdict on another season?”

“Well, they’re looking at the attention and talking about it, and while we might not get a script, we might get a movie.” Jane was nearly exploding with excitement.

“That sounds great, hun!”  Agatha was grinning for her friend, imagining how much Jane would love to play Irene again. She almost missed the sound of her bedroom door opening and the soft knock as her brother Hunter peaked in.

“Hey, Ag?” His voice was soft, but something about it made her tense.  She glanced at him with a frown.

“Hey, Hunter!” Jane called out.

“Oh! Hey, Ms. Marple.” The boy came closer, as he started to redden. “Didn’t realize you and Ag had a call today.”

“Yeah, everything okay?”

“Yep!” The boy grinned, leaning over Aggie as if she wasn’t there. She jabbed him in the side, making him grunt. But she was relatively gentle, she knew he was lying, but they would have to talk about it later.

“Well… just wanted you to know Aggie, if they do have us do a movie there is no way I’ll do it without you.” Jane moved closer to the camera, a determination in the way she nodded, agreeing with her own statement.

“That would be a lot of fun! And with a movie, they could get away with bigger more dangerous shots!  You’ll have to tell me all the rumors later. But I need to get going.” Agatha sighed as she realized they had barely gotten to talk.

“You got it!  I’ll text you everything later!”

With goodbyes out of the way, she turned to her brother, leaning back in her chair as she regarded him and the way his shoulders slumped without Jane there to pretend for. “Alright, who did what?”

[lisbeth-kk]

Fluffissimo 😍

Title: Key

Fandom: BBC Sherlock

Pairing: Sherlock Holmes/John Watson

Rating: G

Words: 326

Summary:

Sherlock and John have retired, and they were looking for a new place to stay in the countryside for some time. Sherlock has found it, and now he has a present for John.

@sherlockchallenge

[a-victorian-girl]

Well done, John! 🎉 @giftober 2024 | Day 9: "Numbers" @sherlockchallenge October prompt: "Number"

[elennemigo]

“Game” for @sherlockchallenge

[khorazir]

“Happy birthday, Sherlock.”

“Thank you, John. What is this, then?”

“Well, how about you make a deduction?”

*gasps*

“Oh no, you didn’t, John!”

“Didn’t what?”

“This honey is from that very very exclusive – and elusive – shop that popped up in Covent Garden for one day only, resulting in a queue of people all the way down to the Strand.”

“Yep.”

“And you went there? And you queued? For hours? In the truly abominable weather we had that day? And you paid the surely exorbitant price? To get this? For ... me?”

“Yep.”

“John ... I ...”

“Glad you like it, Sherlock. But the gift isn’t entirely selfless.”

“How so?”

“I expect a tasting session soon.”

“A tasting session?”

“Yep. You eat a spoonful, and I ... well, I’m sure you’ll get the idea, clever chap that you are.”

“I think I have an inkling, yes. A most wonderful gift indeed, John.”

For December’s and January’s @sherlockchallenge : Price and Queue

[smarthily]

@sherlockchallenge October prompt NUMBER

@giftober 2024 Day 31: Free Choice.

[ceruleanmindpalace]

trigger warning: torture

Okay, so this is not what I wanted to post.

I painted this weeks ago, when the prompt 'tattoo' was originally posted by @sherlockchallenge.

My idea was that Sherlock gets a scar cover up tattoo on his back. I started to write a ficlet that goes together with the art in which Sherlock moves cautiously and John wants to know what is wrong and makes Sherlock show him his back, where he discovers a halfway finished tattoo that not just covers the scars up but simulanously integrates them graciously into the ink.

The thing is, I tried four different tattoo ideas on his back and none of them worked.

Also, I am in no state to do art at the moment, so here is the unfinished work.

Do not post my art on other sites/social media or use in any other way without my written permission.

[lisbeth-kk]

A calming effect

John is invalided home from Afghanistan. He's miserable with an inexplicable cold that's set in his bones and nothing he does can make it disappear. When his therapist suggests a podcast Mike Stamford has mentioned to her, and John reluctantly agrees to give it a try, things change. The velvety voice does things to John he isn't prepared for, and he's determined to meet the man behind the podcast. That proves to be easier said than done.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/51848215/chapters/131089867#workskin

This fic is my contribution to this month's Sherlock challenge, where the prompt was cold It's also my homage to the amazing @podfixx who is my own lifesaver.

That we've discussed podfics at Tumblr the last couple of days, is purely coincidental, because this fic has been in the making for at least three weeks now. But the universe is rarely so lazy, as we all know...

@sherlockchallenge @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @phoenix27884 @a-victorian-girl @topsyturvy-turtely @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @peanitbear @helloliriels @raina-at

[mystradepromptsandscenarios]

Mystrade Monday Prompt #94

For June 17, 2024

“This is a joke, right?”

The game is to write a flash fic this weekend and post it here (or with a link to the fic on AO3) on Monday with the hashtag Mystrade Monday.

Flash fiction is a complete story that is less than 1,000 words. 360mg is complete fic of 360 words with the last two beginning with “M” and “G” in any order. Please spread the word.

Hot tip: if you tag @mystradepromptsandscenarios , we’ll reblog it.

Don’t forget to add your fic to the Mystrade Monday Collection on AO3.

Note: This week’s prompt includes the monthly prompt from @sherlockchallenge, so be sure to tag them too!

[guardmesherlock-rowan]

January Prompt: Envelope p4.

For SherlockChallenge January's prompt

And now our other mystery solvers

Mycroft Holmes, Arthur Hastings, and Hercule Poirot under the cut

Mycroft Holmes

Mycroft searched their home until he found MC.  They were making little notes in their latest script.  After watching them for a moment he snuck up from behind and gently blew on their neck, smirking as they jumped slightly.

“Mycroft!”  They scolded with the cutest pout on their face as they turned to face him.

“Yes, my dear?” He sat down next to them and held out an envelope. “If you have a moment I would love to share these with you.”  Their expression quickly shifted to curiosity and moved closer to him.

Carefully he removed the papers from the envelope and grinned as he presented them to MC. Little childish doodles, and shaky words were written across the pages, but he didn’t have to wait long for their eyes to light up with recognition.  “But how?”

Mycroft’s grin only grew as he watched them read over the barely legible writing of their younger self.  “It’s really cute how you always wanted to be an actress.”  He picked up a page of her writing about being in the school play and how much she loved it, complete with a doodle of her on stage, or presumably a stage.  “I want to add these to your album so we can cherish this memory of your youth.”

“I still can’t believe you got these for me.”

He tenderly pushed their hair behind their ear and watched the soft expression on their face, warm as they relived those moments from years ago.  He could let them believe he got those pages only for them, as long as he could keep this moment, their expression, to himself.

Arthur Hastings

Arthur handed MC her bag back, but he couldn’t help the way he stared at the boys who had stopped them on their walk.  They were so excited to get her autograph. He didn’t blame them, but he was aware that they were on a little bit of a time crunch.  The way she smiled at them, it warmed his heart to see her interacting with her fans, but it still ached.

MC slipped their hand in his as they continued down the street.  “Sorry about that Arthur, let’s get-”

“MC!” Diana, her manager, called out to them.  The tall woman was grinning ear to ear, the grin seemed to only increase when she saw Arthur next to her. “Oh this is the perfect timing, I’m so glad I was able to catch you!  You would never believe this, but you know those offices the studio used to be out of a few years ago? Well, they were cleaning out the space for the new tenets and found a lot of old unanswered fan mail the show received! Including…” she held out the envelope, “tada!”

Arthur’s stomach twisted in recognition of the handwriting on the envelope, his handwriting.

MC seemed to realize it as well when she glanced up at him. She took the envelope from Diana, and turned it over, showing Arthur’s name and his old address from back then as the return recipient.

“It must be fate’s way of wanting to celebrate you two coming together by having this finally delivered to you! Open it,” Diana giggled and danced a little in place, “I cannot wait to hear what you wrote!”

Arthur quickly grabbed the envelope and held it behind his back, the heat on his cheeks warning him of how red he was turning.  “Maybe this was better off left unread.”

MC looked up at him with those big eyes of theirs that had Arthur feeling like he wanted to share it with them. “If it means that much to you…” They said understandingly, but Arthur could hear the disappointment. He closed his eyes and sighed.

“I’ll read it to you later, when we’re alone.”  He glanced at Diana to make sure she understood.

MC quickly grabbed onto his arm.  “Then it’s a date.”

Hercule Poirot

“Is this all of them?” Hercule started to sort the envelopes that had tumbled out of MC’s bag, placing them into neat little piles.

“All the ones I’ve found.” They sat down across from Hercule watching him as he observed the front of the envelopes before adding them to a category.

“So run me through the facts again, you found these in the dressing room?”

“Yes, well, not exactly. I was changing but there was a rip in the jacket and the head of wardrobe said there should be a jacket from a different production that should work, so we went to go grab it, and in the storage, there was an envelope on the ground and I was surprised to see my name on it.”

“I see,” Hercule flipped on envelope over, observing the front and back, before carefully pulling out the RSVP from the envelope and studied it. “From there you found the bag with the rest of these little envelopes?”

“Yes.” They nodded, nervously looking at the envelopes.

“And these look like your handwriting but you didn’t write these?”

“Yes.” Their shoulders slumped a little.

Hercule looked up from the envelope, turning his attention to them. “Hastings!” He called out.

“Yes?” The tall man with dark hair called from his room.

“If you would, get the kettle going, please. I do believe MC and I could use some tea.”  He looked over at them reassuringly. “Don’t fret, we will get to the bottom of these curious invitations.”

“But the party noted is for this weekend at my home.” They reached out for one of the envelopes and read over the RSVP, slightly shaking.

“Well, then may I suggest we look into what it takes to throw a party? Perhaps the person who set these invitations out will be in attendance.” He spoke confidently, bringing a smile to their face, while his gaze dropped to the envelope that had caught his attention earlier. The one with a newer stamp on it than the others.

[starkraivennemad]

The Weight of Things

Mycroft Holmes played the heavy, the cold man-

He knew the reason some call him Iceman was earned. There are documents which will never see the light of day until his bones have long turned to dust before others will know of the actions of the person codenamed Antarctica. The mega-genius was calculating, and exacting; willing to make, and execute, the hard decisions.

Mycroft played the heavy, the manipulating man-

Once he was able to prove he was of better service in the office, than in the field, he eschewed all outward appearances of ever having done so. He worked hard at his perfectly curated his sharply honed brain over blunt instrument brawn image.

Played the heavy, the secretive man-

He kept the secrets of Crown and Country.

He kept the family secrets, knowing them for the ticking bombs they were.

Not telling his parents believe his sister was alive.  

Letting John believe the man he loved was dead.

Mycroft bore the weight of the damage that should not have been his to take on when time ran out.

For when they inevitably blew? It was bad.

The heavy, the bad man-

It came with a price…

While Mycroft honestly enjoyed the work, it cost him the trust of people in general and his personal happiness overall and a life of isolation.

He told himself it was a minor thing. That it was the balance needed in the scale of things. And for far too many years he not only believed it, but willingly paid it.

But then the scales tipped.

They tipped with a weight Mycroft never imagined bearing.

They tipped with a weight that could not be seen, heard, smelled, tasted or touched.

Except in his heart.

Tipped by the all-encompassing weight called love in the form of one Gregory Lestrade.  

The oh so heavy weight that lightened everything else around him.

And once tipped, it outweighed everything else.

Make no bones about it, Mycroft Holmes is who he is– cold, manipulating, secretive, the heavy the bad man.

But it’s the heavy weight of Greg’s love that lightens his heart to also make Mycroft Holmes-Lestrade a good man.

Read on AO3

For @sherlockchallenge​​ April prompt HEAVY