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The Terror - Prompt Post 1
This is for prompts for all things AMC's The Terror (2018). Go nuts!
Cast RPF also goes here, shine on you crazy diamonds.
Cast RPF also goes here, shine on you crazy diamonds.
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1. Be fucking nice. YKINMATO/KINKTOMATO at all times.
2. This meme is CNTW (Choose Not To Warn) but warnings are highly encouraged.
3. Prompts should use this format in the subject line: [SHIP], [DESCRIPTION]
e.g.
Hickey/Crozier, CNC knifeplay
Solo gen can be prompted as well alongside (a) character name and description
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Gen, Edward Little, having a nice day
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
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Fill: The Last Hour, Hickey/Tozer, E, cw dubcon
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FILL: Lead On, Hodgson/Des Voeux, last two standing, cw canon typical xenophobia, homophobia
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 01:32 am (UTC)(link)"Oh," Charles said. "It's you." Then he vomited and passed out again.
When he came to later he was alone and began to panic. If he was going to hallucinate anyone as he sank into sweet death, why on Earth would it have been George Henry fucking Hodgson? This occupied his febrile mind until Hodgson himself returned, very much not a hallucination, with more water and plate of meat which he began to eat quietly off of, sitting beside Charles on the shale.
It was embarrassing, a little bit. He had to admit that to himself. Hodgson looked relatively hale, considering; and here Charles was, half-dead, retching and wheezing as he struggled to push himself into a seated position. "You could have just left me," observed Charles when enough of his breath returned, "that's what that bitch did," but the insult felt dull and sour on his tongue, giving him none of the renewed strength he had said it in expectation of, and so he went on a little quieter, "I mean the Eski girl. She walked on. Did you see her?"
Hodgson shook his head.
"Why didn't you leave me? Is everyone else dead? Why aren't you? Is that them we're eating? Or is that the bear? Is the bear dead? Do you think we can get back to the ships?"
It was strange that Hodgson wasn't speaking. That was what had always peeved Charles about him the most, his inability to ever shut the fuck up. It had been a sick delight in Hickey's camp to loom over Hodgson and threaten him with the butt of a gun should he make a sound. The happiest he’d been in months. After all it had been something he’d longed to do for so many years hearing Hodgson's endless prattle in the gunroom of the Cornwallis, and then the Excellent, and then finally the Erebus, where Hodgson hardly belonged anyway, only Fitzjames and Le Vesconte were forever inviting him over, despite or perhaps because they knew well of Hodgson’s long-running pash for Charles, thought it silly, perhaps, instead of the disgusting and pathetic inversion it really was.
“Come on,” groaned Charles. “What happened?”
It must have been the first time Charles had ever looked forward to hearing Hodgson's voice, waiting to hear what he might say to all of his questions. Some fucking answers at last, please, he just wanted to know what to do next, surely there was something that could be done next, other than die.
Instead of deigning to give a verbal response Hodgson instead began to shrug off his greatcoat, which dangled loosely off his skeletal shoulders, and Charles caught a glimpse of a mangled arm, all crushed bone and blood, horrible and red and wet, and perhaps Hodgson was saying something at last then but Charles did not hear it.
In his dream it was 1842; the cockpit of the Cornwallis where the mates and middies messed; hot as anything, hot and reeking with the sweat of young healthy men and gun oil, a cacophony of flute and fiddle echoing. Hodgson was there, handing Charles a beautiful enamel-handled comb; looking at him with those weak watery eyes, speaking to him in a queasy, pleading tone. Back behind him, where Hodgson could not see, Charles’s friends pulled faces and mocked Hodgson’s pigeon-toed gait and wispy hair.
“I shall never let you touch me,” said Charles in the dream, grinning; Hodgson reached desperately out to him but he kept darting away, ever out of reach; the laughter of his messmates mounted and the fiddle grew faster. “And I shall put a bullet in your head when I get bored of you.” More gifts came his way, beautiful things dredged up from the ocean floor, ambergris and pearls and gold, too many to count, too many to hold, he stumbled under the weight of them and fell, and then Hodgson was upon him at last, pouncing, and he awoke gasping for breath.
The sound and heat of the Cornwallis was gone. The land was still and cold. Hodgson’s hand on Charles’s face was clammy. They were both dying, probably.
Hodgson held Charles’s gaze. Always looking at him. Always thinking something horrible, probably, you couldn’t encourage these sorts of things, this kind of men, except Charles had, he could not deny it, because he used to be told he was pretty all the time, as a sweet young volunteer, and then it had become rarer and rarer, and he had developed a certain hysterical paranoia of losing his youth and coming to look like his father or his older brothers, jowly and dark, ugly and unloved; all the money and titles in the world could not help you if nobody loved you. But Hodgson been there dogging after him like a stray even after his voice had dropped and he’d come out in spots. Years after that he’d mooned at him in Hickey’s camp even as Charles bent his fingers back till they nearly broke. He couldn’t help himself, the sorry fucker.
Charles coughed out, “Do you still think I’m beautiful?”
“Does it matter now?” Hodgson said at last.
“Answer the fucking question.”
“Yes,” Hodgson said, or perhaps Charles was dreaming again by then, but in any case he smiled, far too close to the end now to pretend he did not care.
Re: FILL: Lead On, Hodgson/Des Voeux, last two standing, cw canon typical xenophobia, homophobia
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 02:50 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Lead On, Hodgson/Des Voeux, last two standing, cw canon typical xenophobia, homophobia
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 04:10 pm (UTC)(link)Omg author anon, this is brilliant! And ugly and lovely! The mix of contempt, entitlement, vanity, and bare naked need - the lovelessness and the fearful covetousness of love! You’ve drawn a fine portrait of such a horribly and pitifully small-hearted man, so adamantly self-centered on only his own point of view. He’s scornful of Hodgson but simultaneously looking to him to provide some kind of everything, a direction to go, a consolation to his ego - but they’re already gone.
Amazing fic, thank you so much for this!
Re: FILL: Lead On, Hodgson/Des Voeux, last two standing, cw canon typical xenophobia, homophobia
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 05:59 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: Lead On, Hodgson/Des Voeux, last two standing, cw canon typical xenophobia, homophobia
(Anonymous) 2022-12-25 09:54 pm (UTC)(link)