Cave-in Tuesday
Aug. 16th, 2021 11:04 pm![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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comment_ficHello, everyone. I’m ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
canonisrelative and today's theme is Cave-in stories.
Gotta love a good cave-in, but it’s late where I am and I’m having trouble coming up with good examples. But anything that puts two (or more) characters in a dire situation and makes them deal with the fact that they might die together — or maybe have feelings for each other — or both — that is my JAM, y’all! Also, doesn’t actually have to be dire if you don’t want it to be. Maybe it’s the cab ride from hell during rush hour traffic. This way to see what TV Tropes has to say.
Can’t wait to see what this sparks for your favorite fandoms.
Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Star Trek, any, stuck in the turbolift together.
+ MCU, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, pinned down by enemy fire, alone for the first time since Bucky left to go to war, confessions.
+ Leverage, Parker +/ Eliot Spencer, the emotional aftermath of The Long Way Down Job (the one with the literal cave-in on the side of the mountain).
+ The West Wing, Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn,a bomb threat or severe weather or something has them stuck together in a room for an indeterminate amount of time, forcing them to face up the feelings they’ve been trying to squash since the campaign trail…
We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2021 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
tag=Cave-in
canonisrelative and today's theme is Cave-in stories.Gotta love a good cave-in, but it’s late where I am and I’m having trouble coming up with good examples. But anything that puts two (or more) characters in a dire situation and makes them deal with the fact that they might die together — or maybe have feelings for each other — or both — that is my JAM, y’all! Also, doesn’t actually have to be dire if you don’t want it to be. Maybe it’s the cab ride from hell during rush hour traffic. This way to see what TV Tropes has to say.
Can’t wait to see what this sparks for your favorite fandoms.
Just a few rules:
No more than five prompts in a row.
No more than three prompts in the same fandom.
Use the character's full names and fandom's full name for ease adding to the Lonely Prompts spreadsheet.
No spoilers in prompts for a month after airing, or use the spoiler cut option found here.
If your fill contains spoilers, warn and leave plenty of space, or use the above mentioned spoiler cut.
Prompts should be formatted as follows: [Use the character's full names and fandom's full name]
Fandom, Character +/ Character, Prompt
Some examples to get the ball rolling...
+ Star Trek, any, stuck in the turbolift together.
+ MCU, Steve Rogers and Bucky Barnes, pinned down by enemy fire, alone for the first time since Bucky left to go to war, confessions.
+ Leverage, Parker +/ Eliot Spencer, the emotional aftermath of The Long Way Down Job (the one with the literal cave-in on the side of the mountain).
+ The West Wing, Josh Lyman/Sam Seaborn,a bomb threat or severe weather or something has them stuck together in a room for an indeterminate amount of time, forcing them to face up the feelings they’ve been trying to squash since the campaign trail…
We are now using AO3 to bookmark filled prompts. If you fill a prompt and post it to AO3 please add it to the Bite Sized Bits of Fic from 2021 collection. See further notes on this new option here.
Not feeling any of today’s prompts? Check out the just created Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet. For more recent prompts to write, you can also use LJ’s advanced search options to limit keyword results to only comments in this community.
While the Lonely Prompts Spreadsheet and LJ's advanced search options are available, bookmarking the links of prompts you like might work better for searching for in the future.
tag=Cave-in
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Date: 2021-08-17 02:48 pm (UTC)Fill! With bonus Dani, Edrisa, and Gil
Date: 2021-08-25 06:23 pm (UTC)Re: Fill! With bonus Dani, Edrisa, and Gil
Date: 2021-08-26 01:16 am (UTC)Re: Fill! With bonus Dani, Edrisa, and Gil
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Date: 2021-08-17 07:21 pm (UTC)The mighty rivers – all five of them – had dried in their beds. He had been there, in the gloaming, and saw Charon simply step out of the boat, one long stride over the bow, then another, as though to replicate that Christian miracle and walk handedly across the water. But of course, by then what was left of the Styx was a blooded miasma, a venomous snake of a stream, that held the boatman aloft for long enough to perhaps admit that the Son of God might have indeed been able to stand in such a way, palms out, calling the masses to him. But as he watched, the slow sucking of the riverbed hauled the pagan ferryman to his own ending, there beneath the waterway he had crossed and crossed and crossed for aeons.
And thinking of Christ was apt, Hades remembered musing. Because gods and goddesses die, fruit withering on the vine, when the drought dries out the orchards and the altars are barren of their offerings. When the worshippers no longer worship, when believers believe in another. Hadn’t they heard the warning bells tolling each time another Soul crossed over and became a Shade? It was the metronome of mankind. Your time is over, another’s time begun.
The Shades were still lingering. A milling that threatened to drive him out of his mind. Their descendants on their knees with another’s name on their lips. His Queen was out amongst the multitude, offering comfort. But the departed had become less than what they had been before, and her touch was insubstantial, her words unheard. He sent the dog to bring her back.
“This place,” he told her, when she was back in his arms, “is going to fall down around our heads.”
She quietly demurred. The three-headed hound resting at their feet.
“Let us accept it with some kind of grace.”
“What would you have us do?”
“I’m not sure yet. But I want you here, with me, when it happens.”
“This death has died,” she agreed. “The souls become a wandering timelessness, the endless grains seem to be running out. This graveyard shall be our grave." She kissed him. "Will we be woken after what shall surely be the sleep of eternity? Or have we erred in our understanding of eternity?”
“What would be left of us, my darling?” He reached out and let his hand rest on one of the broad skulls of Cerberus.
She smiled at this. “In truth, that is his purpose, is it not?”
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Date: 2021-08-18 02:30 pm (UTC)Fill: Fear Street - Bobbi Corcoran
Date: 2021-08-19 04:30 pm (UTC)A scorching stream of water rained down against Bobbi's back like bullets from a machine gun. Even in the dim light, she could see her usually milky skin was quickly turning the color of a ripe tomato.
Reaching through the thickening shadows, she hurriedly clasped the shower handle. Her shaking, soaked hands were all thumbs. Leaning her elbow out, she pushed down. The handle didn't so much as move down a fraction of an inch.
Bobbi moved towards the next showerhead. No. The next. She would have had an easier time trying to lift a truck. The next one after was no better. It might as well have been glued to the wall.
Turning on her heel, pinwheeling her arms to keep her balance, she raced to the door. Standing still was impossible now. The concrete floor beneath her feet could have easily passed for a bed of coals. If she jumped from one foot to the other any faster than she might never touch the ground.
"Can anyone hear me? Help me!" Even as liquid fire poured down from all directions, Bobbi's throat was desert dry. "Please, open the door!"
As she cried, she was pulling against its handle. Her throbbing fingers could only grip the burning metal for a few seconds before it slipped back from her fingers. She hit against the door with a force that couldn't have knocked over a set of dominos. Still, she raised her fists again and again.
"Help!" Her words echoed off the walls. "Corky! Kimmy! Anyone!"
The steam was so thick now that her eyelids ached if she tried to open them.
Something wet and thick poured down her back. Clenching her shaking fists, she felt the ghosts of blisters rising along her palms and fingers.
"Open the door!" The corners of her eyes were blazing. Her back felt as if it were being used as an ironing board. "Please! Let me out!"
The cry echoed in her ears until her knees buckled and legs hit the floor. A crack like an atomic bomb detonating reverbated across the metal walls. A bolt of lightning shot up from the tips of her toes to the curve of her upper spine.
"Please!"
Bobbi could only faintly register her throaty shriek above the raging rainstorm. Another scream sputtered to a stop as she clamped her mouth shut. Remnants of the sizzling spray slid down her tongue. One drop and her stomach was alight like old hay in a sunny field. With a whimper, she swallowed back bile. The rush of sensations - the pounding water, her burning back, the sting emanating up her leg - was quickly culminating in a pounding whole. Every nerve in her body was firing off at once.
Steam clawed at her aching, cracked throat. Her sagging lungs felt like they were being held down by concrete. Bobbi threw back her head and took a sputtering breath. It quickly turned into a series of sharp coughs, each one a deeper stab against her rib cage than the last. The sound reverberated in her ears, drowning out the showerheads' hiss. Mixed with it, coming from all directions, was a hissing, wheezing noise. The caricature of laughter grew louder with each passing second, beating against the sides of Bobbi's skull. Her head would have made for a good pressure cooker.
One last squeak, too low to hear but sharp enough to stab against the sides of her throat, escaped Bobbi's lips before her back hit the slick, blazing floor.
RE: Re: Fill: Fear Street - Bobbi Corcoran
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