Prompt Post 2.0
With the season finale behind us I figure we'll have an explosion of prompts soon. So, new prompt post. Please post any new prompts in this post. But you can always find fic or fill more prompts in the original prompt post.
Rules!1) One prompt per post, please! If you have multiple prompts, no worries, just make separate posts for each. Please ( Read more... )
Rules!1) One prompt per post, please! If you have multiple prompts, no worries, just make separate posts for each. Please ( Read more... )
Water is drawn from his lungs in a stream. He feels it before he sees it. When he inhales again the air grates, sticks down his throat. His back arches. He can't breathe properly, struggles to escape his own ribs, knows something must have snapped already but can't identify what.
His shoulders are being clamped together, restricted. He gasps, tries to cough as everything burns as his face burns. He tilts, off-balance in his own skull. The grip does not lessen even though he can't feel his right side at all, it's numb and the breath drives into him harder, irregular, uneven like a saw. Something else bubbles out through his lips--hot and wet and thick. He can't see. There are dark shapes flaring in front of his eyes. Spirits, his face is burning his eyes are burning the vice around him remains let me breathe I can't, I can't ( ... )
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He considers that he might be truly sick, then decides he doesn’t care."
Um... I think MY insides are hollow now... D':
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***
The first thing he notices is the smell, which is like seawater and rancid meat and smoke dragging down his throat so he has to step back, has to get as far away as he can because he still remembers what this feels like.
The second thing he notices is the sound, a crack that draws his gaze to the entrance where Noatak stands, a puddle forming around his feet. Tarrlok looks higher and watches the mask, Amon’s face splitting open like an eggshell. Pieces fall away one at a time. Clattering fills his ears when they hit the floor.
He finds bloated flesh, skin shredded-slick, a nose missing, a mouth twisted, eyes that are horribly familiar and horribly conscious watching him.
You’re all I have left in the world.When he wakes up his breath is ragged, his body soaked, the room empty. He buries his face into his knees and tries not to make any noise ( ... )
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For the record though--there may or may not be a chance of an epilogue. Maybe. Depending on how things turn out. Most of this has been improv, but I had to map out the last bit to make sure I hit points as best I could. There'll probably be room. So it might wind up being 5/5 then Epilogue. If that fails, I'll say so. And it will be for very Artistic and Sensible Reasons™.
I'll also make sure to post a link to a polished version once it's up!
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Kay!
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