?

Log in

No account? Create an account

Sherlock BBC Prompting Meme

"we get all sorts around here."


Previous Entry Share Next Entry
Prompting: Part II
Giggles at the Palace
sherlockbbc_fic
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


GENERAL GUIDELINES
+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.
+Until further notice, RPF (real person fic, i.e. fic involving the actors themselves) is not supported at this meme. UPDATE: sherlockrpf</lj> has set up an RPF meme post in their community. Anon posting is on, and that meme is free for you all to use.
+Depending on the rate of activity, there may or may not be a prompt freeze when a part reaches 5000 comments.
+However, there will be one when it reaches 7000. Also at 7000, 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 by someone, do not be afraid to offer up a second fill.

THE FILLED PROMPTS POST
The new Filled Prompts Post is officially up and running! I’d like to ask that you all are patient as we work out the bugs in the system, but other than that, 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-- While a mod will do an archiving sweep every now and then, we don’t want to be putting every single fill in the post.
Do not be afraid to ask questions about how it works if you are confused! Either of the mods would be happy to explain.

CONTACTING MODS
There are two mods for this meme. Your main mod is jjgd , and any questions, concerns, comments about anything at all on the meme should be directed to her via either PM or the page-a-mod post.
There is also an archivist: snowishness . If you have questions or concerns regarding the Filled Prompts Post (general questions, broken links, etc.) she can be reached on the page-a-mod post as well.

RE: OFFENSIVELY WORDED PROMPTS
Guys, I will only put in one reminder about this.
Think before you prompt about the way you are asking. It isn’t difficult, and it will only take a minute or so of your time.

That said...
DISCLAIMER
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 have rights to an opinion, of course, just as you have the right to scroll right past a prompt that you dislike.

Remember, guys; Be civil, be friendly, but don’t be shy!

LINKS AND AFFILIATES
- Delicious Archive - Filled Prompts Post - Page-A-Mod - List of all the Prompting Posts - Flat View of This Pagesherlockfest - Sherlock RPF Request Post - Overflow Post -


  • 1

Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

The taxi ride passes in an odd silence. John is watching through the windows. He doesn't like taxis, stupid big black boxes that feel like some nightmarishly fragile APC and John is watching for snipers, prickly with the awareness of how exposed and vulnerable they are. (Moriarty will escalate, has to escalate to prove that he's better/smarter/in control. It's his weakness.) Sherlock doesn't even look at him and John tries very, very hard not to let that bother him.

The body belongs to Alex Woodbridge, who is glumly resigned to being dead and the brisk, invasive scrutiny Sherlock subjects him to. He's not bitter; one of life's 'keep calm and carry on' types, John thinks. He was a security guard, tumbled something he shouldn't have and he's certain it's the curator's doing. John feels that he should be congratulating Alex on how well he's taking it all.

"Suppose it's to be expected," he confides in John who stares down at him while Sherlock spins his web of amazing deductions and Lestrade thinks longingly about his warm (and decidedly occupied) bed. John almost congratulates him before remembering that he's not supposed to know about Rafael. Alex is still talking. "Tell you what though, like something out of Frankenstein he was. Did my best but, well, you should have seen the size of the bastard."

Lestrade is rubbing his hands together and John smiles distracted, feeling the expression freeze when Alex says "Here! He just swiped me bloody tickets! I could get in trouble for that!"

Sherlock's too fast for John to see it happen but Alex is sputtering indignantly and John hasn't met a corpse who can lie to him yet. (And, Christ, isn't that a depressing thought?)

John looks frantically for a distraction, the crime scene is turning into a minefield of things he shouldn't know and can't talk about and it's a relief when Sherlock spins away to play with his phone. John gets Lestrade's nod of approval and a chance to practice sorting out what he can admit to knowing from what he shouldn't mention.

Alex Woodbridge for normal people; mid-thirties (actually only 33 but between his obesity and the incipient diabetes, he looks older), not in the best condition (he's only been going to the gym for a fortnight, barely scraped the surface of the diet) and he was choked to death (by a man that looked like a waxwork monster and didn't feel even the most casual interest in him as an individual). John thinks he's doing pretty well when Sherlock interrupts with his wild prediction and even Lestrade's benevolent (well-shagged) mood isn't proof against Sherlock's unthinking arrogance.

John hasn't seen the painting but Alex's contemptuous snort tells him Sherlock is, however aggravating it feels, once more on a winner. So he steps in, breaking up the looming fight just before Lestrade actually snaps.

Old habits die hard and John was never much of a drill instructor; too soft. Still Sherlock responds, unravelling the whole thing, step by step. He directs the flow of genius towards John, dismissing Lestrade almost completely. It's bloody marvellous and John tells him so.

"Meretricious," Sherlock shrugs it off, eyes flicking away and they both startle when Lestrade chimes in.

John looks down at Alex Woodbridge and promises silently that this Oskar Dzundza is going to pay for this.

"Tell Meg," Alex hesitates and John gets a flash of what he means, (Meg who was sweet and funny and who persuaded him to go the gym and take that astronomy course he always wanted to. Meg who is synonymous with love and good things) and feels the borrowed euphoria drain away. He looks at Alex and remembers why he's doing this and why it's never going to be enough. "Poor sod."

Sherlock shoots him a split second glance before Lestrade starts the wheels of officialdom rolling. (The Golem already has his ticket booked. A quiet, no-fuss exit where no-one's looking.)

"Pointless, but I know a man who can," Sherlock beams, bright and cruel. "Me."

He sweeps away, leaving John to follow. He looks at Alex and hurries after him. Sherlock's used to John falling behind so he doesn't notice when John pulls out his phone or the way his left hand is so absolutely still while he taps out the text.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

<3 Cliffhanger-y.

Brilliant.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

Getting closer to the end and John's starting to slip. Poor boy.

Thanks for reading!

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

This story is amazing! And I'm going to join the group of stalkers on it now. =)

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

Thank you! Glad you're enjoying it.

(Deleted comment)

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

Not much longer; it's nearly done.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

This is so incredibly good. Please have mercy upon my poor, addicted what-passes-for-a-soul and keep writing this. The suspense is killing me.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

The end is in sight, I promise. =D

Re: Shadows on the Wall 14(/19?)

I am at a loss for the appropriate words to express the full depth of my gleeful anticipation, so this will have to do:
SQUEE!

Shadows on the Wall 15(/19?)

"Why hasn't he phoned?" Sherlock demands in the taxi. "He's broken his pattern. Why?"

John spares him a distracted glance, humming non-committally. He's back to watching the passing traffic through narrowed eyes. (Moriarty has been distracted by Sherlock. Moriarty's network is full of men who don't like having their mastermind distracted. It's not profitable, after all. They want to make sure Sherlock...ceases to distract. It's a percarious balance that tips too fast for John to be sure where they stand; Moriarty's inevitable and ingenious retribution versus the resumption of business and profits as usual.) John's on high alert, apprehensive and fingers itching for the gun that he doesn't have with him. Afghanistan left him with more than just a limp and shaking hand, John remembers the feel of a sniper lining up the shot.

"Waterloo Bridge," Sherlock snaps at the cabbie, catching John's attention.

They're going to the gallery, apparently. Not that Sherlock's admitting it just yet. John bites back the acidic comments about how Sherlock's daily dose of drama should surely have been met already today. He doesn't say anything like that because his phone is still a guilty weight in the pocket of his coat and even if John knows there is no way Sherlock could know about the text message.

"The Hickman's contemporary art, isn't it?" John asks, trying to redirect Sherlock before he says or does something to attract attention. (A deliberate misstep, dating from Moriarty's more subtle courtship.)

The insight leaves John's mind frozen; he tries not to analyse the way his mind interprets its feedback but where the hell did 'courtship' come from? What sort of crazy, insane mind would consider this courtship?

Aside from Sherlock? John thinks and hates himself for it.

Thankfully Sherlock isn't in the mood to chat, too busy scribbling in that ratty little notebook John bought him at Sainsbury's to engage with John's blatant red herring. He's careful not to let John see what he's writing and stops the taxi so he can get out at the bridge itself. There's a girl (Margaret) sitting on the bench, a couple of boxes and the better quality plastic bags beside her. (She's twenty six, doesn't look it and lives on the street because it's better than going back into her husband's house or worse, her father's.)

Surprise, surprise, John winds up stuck with the taxi fare when Sherlock sends him off to speak to Meg, not that Sherlock cares about her name.

"Lestrade will know the address," Sherlock says, dismissing the matter as entirely John's problem. John doesn't need to call Lestrade so he doesn't. It's not just about efficiency even if John does prefer having Sherlock where he can see him or at least close enough that he can call for help if the situation goes to hell. It's reassuring, from time to time, to be able to prove to himself that it isn't just a delusion.

Meg turns out to be a pleasant, dumpy woman who talks about Alex and his job easily and openly. She's at pains to assure John that they weren't sleeping together, that Alex was a good man who "didn't deserve it, Mr. Watson."

The only possibly interesting clue is the break-in and John asks about the message because...because it's important and there's a life at stake. Not Sherlock's, not his and John is about certain it's another poor sod who didn't ask to be involved in Moriarty's webs which doesn't make it any easier to contemplate. Meg leaves him in Alex's room and John can think for a second, explore the feeling. It's not a certainty, there's still a chance – a very, very slim chance – that John can stop whoever it is from being murdered. Mycroft texts him, prodding him to yet another reminder of shattered lives.

Andrew West loved his country, John knows and died an innocent man. John has no idea how to prove that or if he even can without tipping Mycroft off about it. John puts his phone back in his pocket and declines Meg's offer of tea. Sherlock hasn't summoned him back and there's no text from Lestrade. John pulls up the address, carefully book-marked in Google for him and well, he's got nothing better to do, really.

He might as well attempt the impossible.

Re: Shadows on the Wall 15(/19?)

(Anonymous)

Re: Shadows on the Wall 15(/19?)

(Anonymous)
Still so amazing~

Re: Shadows on the Wall 15(/19?)

I love this so much! &hearts

Poor Meg. I felt badly for her in the ep too, she seemed sad.

Er... this text message John sent secretly? Am I meant to know who it went to? Or is that supposed to be secret? I'm hoping it's supposed to be secret, because otherwise I'm missing something. :(

Shadows on the Wall 16(/19?)

"I knew Westie, he was a good man." Liz Harrison says, voice wobbling on the edge of a sob. "He was my good man."

She leaves John standing in the street and vanishes back into the drab house. Her brother is waiting for her in the hallway and he gives John a flat, unfriendly look before the door closes. John looks at the red door for a second and turns away.

Liz Harrison didn't know anything new and John's willing to bet every penny of his pension that she told him everything she knew. Everything that supports her assumption, perhaps, Sherlock's voice echoes in his head and John turns away, frowning. He'd considered that she might be lying from the moment she said hello. He doesn't see victims when he asks these stupid, repetitive questions these days. Nowadays, he sees suspects and it is somewhat terrifying to think that Sherlock's ...Sherlockness might be contagious.

He still doesn't think Liz Harrison lied to him.

John starts walking. What he got out of the interview isn't as worrying as what he didn't get. It is still there, still filling his head with cluttered impressions but he got nothing from Miss Harrison. A jumble of what might have been memories or dreams of her and her fiancé or ...anything, really.

The last three days have been insane, literally insane but John is horrified to realise just how quickly he's come to depend on it: Sherlock's influence, no doubt. John's learned to treat 'normal' as a situational variable since he moved into Baker Street which - yeah, okay - isn't a bad thing. Most of the time.

But it isn't something he can rely on and John forgot that in the rush of needing to be Sherlock bloody Holmes' safety net. He isn't Sherlock: isn't anything but a beat-up medic that even the Army doesn't want and a ticking clock that's rapidly running down.

Andrew West needs a genius detective to clear his name and John stuffs his hands in his pockets and goes back to the case Sherlock actually cares about. There can't be that many Professor Cairns in London, surely?

It takes until the evening to find her and she's some sort of astronomy professor, ridiculously busy and doesn't believe in mobiles. After two frustrating hours, he finds out that she's going to be at the planetarium later tonight. Sod that John thinks and goes to find Sherlock.

Sherlock's coming out of the flat just as John arrives. He wants everything John's picked up about Woodbridge which is not enough, apparently and he wants the cab. Of course he does, because god forbid John should be able to to have a cup of tea or a sit down. Sherlock doesn't actually get in the cab, so he's probably planning not to pay for it (again), instead he goes to talk to someone standing by the railings. It's Margaret and John blinks.

(she likes this, he's a daft bastard but he's better than any bleeding copper. makes her feel that she's making things better, being a good soul like her nan used to say. doesn't need her to actually go near the bloke, which is good. she reckons he's a bad lot.)

Sherlock sweeps back into the taxi and John sighs and follows. It's not like he has a choice, after all. Sherlock sends the taxi off through the late traffic and John watches through the window, eyes narrowed. (Moriarty is currently ascendant but that doesn't mean the threat isn't still there)

He doesn't speak to Sherlock. There's nothing worth saying after all and if Sherlock wants to know what John's found out, he can damn well ask. Sherlock keeps glancing at him as the taxi veers around buses and John pretends not to notice. When they finally arrive, Sherlock pays the fare which is a pleasant surprise and floors John completely by noticing the stars.

"I thought you didn't care about-" John starts.

"Doesn't mean I can't appreciate it." Sherlock says crisply and John's reading too much into that. After all, Sherlock might genuinely just like stars or...maybe, just maybe he might not be a lost cause. John doesn't press the point.

"Listen, Alex Woodbridge had a message on the answerphone at his flat." John says instead because Sherlock caring, even if it's just about stars, deserves positive reinforcement.

(Deleted comment)
  • 1