Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."

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Prompting Part XXIX
Giggles at the Palace
Please check the Sticky Post to find the newest active part and post your prompts there.

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 not required, but most definitely allowed. If you think you recognise an anon, keep it to yourself and don’t out them.
  • All kinds of fills are accepted! Fic, art, vids, cosplay, interpretive dance--whatever. Go wild! :D
  • 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.
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  • ONE posting of each prompt every TWO 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.
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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.
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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.

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"My name is John Hamish Watson and get your filthy hands off of my [???]!"

Go wherever you want with that. ^_^

Mini - fill thingy

(Yeah.... My first attempt at anything like this... Don't hate me!)


He had known that it was a bad idea to try and wrestle it out of the shorter man’s grip when he was thrown a disturbingly long and painful distance in the opposite direction. He had believed himself in luck when he saw that he could easily subdue the man holding a gun on him. He had sized the man and his companion up, the only two currently within critical distance, and the weapon seemed right there for the taking. All he had to do was knock the weapon from the man’s hand and hold him hostage… or at least cause some confusion to make a speedy getaway. He had been dreadfully, dreadfully delusional as the brick wall in which he was hurled into could attest to.

The yard had frozen all activity around them as the ex-military man stalked up to the felon. Now sorely regretting his mistake to try and overpower his capturer, the man attempted to shield himself from the foreseeable attack by pitifully curling in on himself and sheltering his head with his arms.

A man standing off to the side in a long coat only sighed as he took in the stunned faces of the yard around himself. Dull. One would think that they would remember that John was in the army, but he supposed with how the smaller man acted every day, it was easy to overlook.

Dark brown eyes narrowed dangerously down on the cowering figure. “Nobody. Touches. My. Gun. But me.”
A collective shudder went through the majority of the group, seemingly not affecting his companion.
Smirking slightly, John rolled a shoulder casually before turning around and stalking back past Sherlock and the Yarders. The latter of which were still trying to piece together how said felon had gone from point A to B(and the sheer BAMFness of John), half to them swearing to themselves that they had to be imagining things.

Sherlock took a moment to pause and survey the gaping crowd and scoffed at the stupidity of the yarders. Really, were they so blind as to how dangerous John could be? Wishful thinking perhaps?
He pushed the thought away – their loss really. And to think, the killer had chosen John as harmless!

It did seem that those jumpers had a use after all.

Re: Mini - fill thingy

Hmmm.... looking over this in the morning I now see that it is quite horrible.
Annon author apologises quite profusely over bad english skills!

*sinks back into shadows*

Re: Mini - fill thingy

Hee that was awesome. John/John's Gun top forever!

Re: Mini - fill thingy

*looks down at ground* I'm glad you think so

- My first fill, so I'm glad that I've got some support!

Re: Mini - fill thingy

Well done! I can see it happen very well, and I love your last line...John knows all about camouflage...

Re: Mini - fill thingy

I hope you make it back to see this, Author Anon. I think the fill is quite lovely, and you shouldn't sink back into the shadows at all, but keep writing, with a beta if you're worried about your English skills. I hope you've gone on to fill other prompts on the meme---you did a great job injecting quite a bit of humor in a short bit of fic.

RE: Mini - fill thingy

I every fill no matter how small should go on ao3. I loved this

Another minifill for you, anon. Because I couldn't get these images out of my head, but I was too lazy to write a full casefic.

Uh...hope you like Sherlock/John? And also BAMF!John and damsel-in-distress!Sherlock.


John could feel that something was different as soon as he entered 221b. Everything looked normal. He couldn't hear screaming or banging or gunshots. But his gut instinct told him something was wrong. He walked up the stairs, hyperaware of everything around him, and opened to door of the flat to find a completely silent room. Something was off.

Keeping his coat and shoes on, he stepped into the kitchen, and his breath caught. The kitchen table was clear, Sherlock's experiments scattered on the floor in a mess of broken glass and body parts. All that was left on the table was a single piece of paper, held down with the pen that Sherlock had been using to track the progress of his moulds. John approached it with a knot in his stomach.

Hammerston's Warehouse

Taped to the end of the note was a lock of Sherlock's hair. John touched it with one fingertip, then closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"Fuck, Sherlock."

In seconds, he had shoved his gun in his waistband and run out the door.


He crept into the warehouse through a low window. The lighting was poor, scattered light bulbs creating tiny circles of light from one end of the building to the other. He could just make out the two dimly-lit figures facing the main entrance, one seated, one standing. Other than them, the entire building was empty. He walked quietly, hiding behind one large empty crate after another as he approached.

Sherlock was sitting in a metal folding chair. His ankles were duct-taped to the legs of the chair, his arms folded behind him, the wrists of each arm bound to the elbows of the other. Bill Harris, the kidnapper that Sherlock had been tracking for weeks, was standing behind him, leaning down to speak into Sherlock's ear with a knife held casually in one hand. Sherlock's mouth was turned down in a scowl.

John took a deep calming breath and stepped out from behind a crate. He spoke in his most commanding military voice. "Let. Him. Go."

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)

Harris looked up, startled. He smiled and put a hand on Sherlock's shoulder. Sherlock stared at John with wide eyes.

"Did you bring my money?" Harris asked. John didn't answer, but kept his gun aimed steadily at Harris's chest.

Harris rolled his eyes. "You think you can shoot me before I can cut his throat?" He made the mistake of not actually raising the knife to Sherlock’s skin. John took his chance without thinking about it. He lowered his gun and shot Harris in the foot.

"Fuck!" Harris grimaced and dropped the knife to the ground as he doubled over in pain. He clutched one hand on Sherlock’s shoulder to hold his balance and looked up at John disbelievingly. "What the—who sent you?! Who the hell ARE you?!"

John's hand was steady. He stood at an angle, spine straight, chin up, gun now pointed directly at Harris's chest. His voice was steel.

"My name is John Hamish Watson. Now get your filthy hands off of my boyfriend."

Sherlock grinned. When Harris hesitated, John aimed again and shot him in the arm farthest from Sherlock.

"Fuck! What the hell, man! I was going to let him go, I'm not touching him, okay?" He put his hands up and hopped away on one foot, then stumbled to the ground.

John took his phone from his pocket and made a quick call to Lestrade, then went straight for Sherlock. He put a hand to Sherlock's face, and Sherlock leaned into his palm.

"Are you alright?" he asked, softly. Sherlock nodded. John ran his thumb over Sherlock's cheek gently, then stepped away to deal with Harris, who was examining his foot as best he could through the pain.

Harris looked up at him and chuckled through his sneer. "I'm guessing you didn't bring my money?" John stared down at him with eyes like ice. "Yeah, didn't think so."

John knelt down and pressed his gun into Harris's good foot. He gripped Harris's chin with his other hand and looked into his eyes as he spoke.

"If you EVER touch him again, you will not live to see another day. Do you hear me?"

Harris tried to jerk away, but John held fast.

"Do you hear me?" he asked again, voice quiet and dangerous. Harris nodded, dumbfounded. John pushed him to the ground and looked up as the sound of sirens whined in the distance. Harris's shoulders slumped and he ran a hand through his hair, visibly giving up. John picked the knife up off the ground and went to Sherlock to free him from the duct tape. As soon as Sherlock's arms were free, he gripped John's shirt and pulled him in front, yanking him down for a searing kiss.

John laughed softly against his mouth and rubbed at Sherlock's wrists, which were sore and red and sticky with residual adhesive. He pressed his forehead to Sherlock's and they breathed together for a moment, then looked up as the door to the warehouse burst open. Lestrade strode over to them, followed by three other policemen. He eyed Harris, who was still clutching at his foot, then gave a pointed look at John’s gun, where it was nestled in his waistband. John immediately pulled it out and tossed it to the ground.

“Found it,” he said. “On the ground outside.”

Lestrade narrowed his eyes and gave a half-hearted “uh huh.”

John bit his lip to hide a wry grin, then turned back to free Sherlock’s legs from the duct tape. Sherlock wobbled a bit as John helped him to his feet. He gripped John’s arm for support.

“You two alright?” asked Lestrade.

John nodded affirmatively for both of them. Sherlock was still staring at John with vague surprise, as if he couldn’t believe that after all this time, John would still come to his rescue.

Lestrade jerked his head toward the door. “Let’s go,” he said. “You two have statements to make, so start thinking.” They headed toward the door, following Harris as he was led, handcuffed, by two policemen.

Sherlock could walk on steady feet now, but he still kept a tight grip on John’s arm. John looked up at him and smiled.

“I’ll always come, you know,” he said.

Sherlock nodded firmly, and held on tighter.

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)

Oh, very nice. I love BAMF John...And boyfriends!

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)

Haha, thank you! "Boyfriend" was the first word that came to mind when I read the prompt, and I just couldn't get it out of my head. :D

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)

BAMF and sweet. Love <3

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)

Thanks! ♥

Re: Minifill #2: Rescue (part 2/2)


There's definitely a lack of BAMF!John in Sherlock fandom.
I loved the completed sentence with boyfriend. Ha. Sherlock's reaction and the kidnapper's reaction was pure gold!

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