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All It Takes… (Writing Prompts)

Atlin Merrick Writing Prompts

I gotta start writing for these too sometime maybe possibly I hope, but in the meantime…tell me a story?

Writing Prompts Are Up Every Thursday…

…so please take part, write for any fandom, any original story you have, just find the inspiration to put words down. Maybe you'll build on them later for a fic or a book you're working on, maybe they'll be teeny vignettes that live here only—whatever makes you happy.

And if you love this prompt, check below for more, or just click on the writing prompt link at the top here to see 'em all.

All It Takes (Picture Prompt)

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  • Kyndall J Potts (CumberCurlyGirl) on

    I wanted to try writing pure dialogue with no speaker attribution tags — I hope it’s not a muddled mess.



    “Yes, I’m here. I’m here.”


    “I know. Hold my hand.”

    “I’m cold.”

    “Hang on, let me take off my jacket. There. Better?”

    “Yes, better. Thank you.”

    “It won’t be long. I’ve called for help.”

    “There won’t be time. The venom. I estimate an hour before—”

    “Shut up.”


    “Shut up. There’s time!”

    “I’m sorry, John.”

    “For what?”

    “For not knowing that it was a trap. It should have been obvious. I’m an idiot.”

    “You are not an idiot. How are you feeling? Tell me what you’re feeling, Sherlock.”

    “Can’t move my legs anymore.”

    “Fu—It’s OK. You are going to be OK. YOU ARE GOING TO BE OK!”

    “I’m not, John. There isn’t time. Will you touch my hair?”


    “Mummy used to brush my hair when I was sick… I’d like it very much if you—”

    “Like this?”

    “Yes, just like that.”

    “What is taking them so fucking long?”

    “We’re in the middle of nowhere. Will you tell me what you see, John?”

    “What I see?”


    “Trees. Stars. Clouds. The moon.”

    “Is it beautiful? I didn’t notice before. I never notice. And now I find that I want to know.”

    “I guess it is. But…”

    “What? But what?”

    “I’d rather look at you, Sherlock.”


    “Your pulse is very low. How are you feeling? Can you breathe all right?”


    “Wake up! Stay with me, Sherlock! You’ve got to stay awake! It won’t be long now. You are NOT leaving me goddammit! Not after everything we’ve been through. I won’t allow it!"


    “I’m sorry. I had to smack you. You’ve got to stay awake. You’ve got to keep talking.”

    “You’ve always wanted to do that, haven’t you?”

    “You do try me sometimes, Sherlock.”

    “You’re a good friend.”

    “I hope I’m more than a friend, Sherlock.”

    “You’re my best friend. And I’ve never had one before.”



    “Yeah. Sorry. It’s just that…never mind. Would you like me to do the thing with your hair again?"


    “I’m so tired John. And so cold. Are you still holding my hand?”


    “I can’t feel it.”

    “Just a few more minutes. I promise.”

    “Sing to me.”

    “I can’t sing.”

    “Yes, you can. I hear you pretending to be Elvis in the shower all the time.”

    “Christ, Sherlock.”

    “Please. It would make me feel better.”

    “Alright…um…do you have a request?”

    “It doesn’t matter. I just want to listen to your voice.”

    Wise men say
    Only fools rush in
    But I can’t help
    Falling in love with you…

    “I love you too, John.”


    “I’m running…out…of…time. Harder to…breathe…had to say it.”



    “Yes. Oh. God, Sherlock, they are on their way! You HANG ON. Do you hear me? Just focus on breathing.”


    “John…Are you…crying?”

    Of course, I’m fucking crying, Sherlock! I thought you were going to die and now you aren’t, and I find out just now that you fucking love me? Why didn’t you tell me before? Did it really take the threat of death to make the great Sherlock Holmes, Mr “married to my work,” admit that he has feelings?

    “Stop shouting, John. Yes…that’s what it…took. It’s…fascinating how the…threat of…losing something…precious, losing you, made everything so…clear to me. I’m…so…sorry, John. Now…please…kiss…me…before I…pass out.”

  • Chocolamousse on

    Do you know how it happens? It’s so silly, really, because it was so long ago, and I should have got over it, shouldn’t I? And I have. I have. Mostly. It’s just…

    I’m having a nice day, I feel normal like I used to do, and then I hear it. Just the sound of a siren in the street. It’s all it takes. This throbbing song, it bores inside my brain and I can’t help it, it comes back, everything comes back to me, and I can’t breathe, I can’t run, I can’t escape and something is yelling inside me. And then the siren draws away and I manage to claw my way back to the now and here. I hate that. I hate it.

    I once read that the body replaces itself every seven years, that every cell is replaced by a new one. Such a comforting thought. And such a false one, of course. Some things in me will never change. You’re still the venom, and you’re still running through my veins.

    What can I say? I read the prompt and it screamed, “AAAAANGST!” :D

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