![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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.
If you've filled (or started filling) a prompt, please make sure to link it in the comments of the Fills Post. And if you would like to cross-post your fills on AO3, here is the collection!
If you have questions or comments please contact us in the comments of the Mod Post.
Just to reiterate from the Mod Post, here are the RULES:
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
e.g.
Gen, Edward Little, having a nice day
4. Fills should use this format in the subject line: FILL: [TITLE], [PAIRING], [RATING], [ANY WARNINGS]
e.g.
Fill: The Last Hour, Hickey/Tozer, E, cw dubcon
5. One prompt per comment please.
6. Multiple fills for each prompt are welcome!
7. You don't have to be anon for your prompts or your fills but we do encourage it because of the vibe. You're also welcome to deanon your stuff by posting on AO3/Tumblr as you please!
Flat view, first comment: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=flat#comments
Flat view, most recent: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=flat&page=1000#comments
Top Level view, first page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=top-only#comments
Top Level view, last page: https://coldboys.dreamwidth.org/599.html?style=site&view=top-only&page=1000#comments
FILL: a relentless fever, (everyone, pairings implied), M, slight dubcon, horny sir john [part 1/2]
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 06:43 pm (UTC)(link)Remember, we are not beasts, Sir John had declared, his eyes wild and brow glistening with fever. We are men. Good English men! Hold onto your minds, men, hold onto your morals. We are strong enough to overcome this, and any challenge!
“Men, not beasts,” became the refrain echoed in the bowels of the ship. The men clung to it like a proverb, whispering it like a prayer in the heat of their turmoil. Anywhere a man could be found, curled in on himself to hide his… indignity. Though they were all the same. They all suffered the same way: swollen, shaking, plagued by strange visions and raging need.
The fire burning beneath their skin was catching. So they learned, when Mr. Collins came up from the below, gasping for breath; the man’s cheeks were flushed, his eyes unnaturally bright. When the other men tried to help him out of his diving suit, he keened, leaning into their touches — “His skin’s so hot, Cap’n! He’s burning up!” — and by the time Collins was finally free of it, his indisposition was apparent.
“I say, man,” Commander Fitzjames gasped, staring unabashedly at the bulge in Collins’ trousers.
He had a hand on Collins' shoulder, helping to steady him when the man almost keeled over. Collins leaned into the touch as though possessed. “Sir, please,” he gasped, sounding wrecked already. “Please, I need — h-help me, please, something — ohh.”
On instinct, Fitzjames rubbed up and down Collins’s back, hoping to comfort the poor fellow; Collins shuddered at the touch, seeking out more like a starving man. When he bore down against Fitzjames’s knee, a ripple of surprise rolled through the crowd of surrounding sailors.
Fitzjames looked mortified; Collins looked debauched; and Sir John was borderline apoplectic.
Collins wept to be pulled away from his Commander’s gentle touches and soothing voice; it took three men to haul him off to the infirmary. By the time the diving equipment was put away, and Fitzjames had given a report to Sir John below, he too was starting to feel hot under the collar.
“Sir John,” he gasped, when he stumbled on his way out the door. The name summoned images in his brain, visions of the most shocking nature — he had never thought of his captain that way before, but suddenly, he couldn’t escape it. Fitzjames braced himself against the doorframe, breathing heavily. Beneath his uniform, he could feel his blood boiling. His skin… he could feel his skin. Was that normal? Every touch, every brush of clothing or object which would have gone unnoticed on an ordinary day… suddenly it was unbearable.
He wanted — he needed — yes, need, it was boiling in him, seeping into his thoughts like seawater, drenching him in raw, aching lust —
Oh, Fitzjames thought, aware of a sudden tightness in his pants.
“Sir John,” he panted again, forcing the lewd images from his mind. “It seems we have a problem.”
There was to be no defying the Articles on Erebus. Sir John made that very clear — even once the fever had taken him, too.
By evening, twenty men had been taken with the fever. By midnight, half the ship. By morning, Erebus was a hotbed of desperation — and when Terror sent over a group of men to check on the flagship’s progress, it became apparent they were not immune, either.
Within twenty-four hours, both ships were stopped dead in the water, their crews overtaken by the strange, burning fever. They could not work; they could not think; there was only want, pure want, and the sensations their bodies demanded. These… unholy sensations, unnatural needs which drove them to sheer distraction.
Sir John locked himself in his cabin, and did not emerge again. No one knew what the man was doing in there, but at least he had a portrait of his wife for company. The men with wives or sweethearts at home clung to these thoughts desperately. With all the men afflicted, no one would have begrudged them — but they still sought out private corners, empty spaces in the ship to be alone with their memories, and their hands. (Thomas Blanky roared his wife’s name in the darkness of the hold; Lieutenant LeVesconte could be heard inside his berth, gasping “sweet Henrietta, yes, my dear…”; inside the Captain’s Cabin on Terror, the name Sophia was, notably, never uttered.)
Every man tried to relieve themselves at least once - sometimes more, in a frenzy of desperation and half0stifled sobs. It was shameful, yes — but God could forgive them, for the suffering was worse. It brought some relief, but not for long. The fever ebbed, then flowed back in with the blood to their cocks. Again, they were burning, and this time, there was no release.
Curled up in their bunks, sailors trembled and whimpered; the few men who could find sleep were left moaning, pawing at their crotches until a well-meaning crewmate nudged them awake. Sobs echoed through the lower decks. Men moaned the Lord’s name, and prayed they would not be damned for their desires.
“I’m not a sinner,” Tom Hartnell rasped, bent double in his berth, trembling with repressed need. “I’m not a sodomite… I can’t do that to my mum. I can’t.” His poor mother would already have to learn one of her sons had died on the long expedition — but another son, succumbed to sin and lust? Oh, she’d never forgive him… yet even as Hartnell thought this, home drifted into his thoughts, sweet as honey and seductive as a trap. The buxom milkmaids and shopgirls, who smiled so sweetly when he passed them; the strong-jawed altar boys who met his eye in the midst of Sunday service. He’d always seen, he’d always wanted — but never allowed himself to sin. Not in action, at least, though in the dead of night… Hartnell groaned, rocking back and forth, just to give his cock some friction. The brush of clothes against his skin was nigh-unbearable, and he railed against the confinement. Off, off, he needed them off. Could he — surrounded by his fellow crewmen, could he possibly —
His hands were moving without his consent. A blast of cool air hit his chest, and he gasped in shock and relief.
“Tom,” someone was saying, from far away. “Tom, stop it — hold steady, man, you’re alright.”
Then, they touched him — and Christ, it was heaven, those strong hands locked around his wrists. Hartnell surged forward without meaning to, but a firm hand against his chest pushed him back.
“Steady,” someone was saying, over and over. The grip on Tom’s shoulders stayed, but the hand pulled away; Tom sobbed at the absence, but slowly, slowly came back to himself.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” he rasped, staring up into the face of Mr. Peglar.
Peglar shook his head, and clapped him on the shoulder, offering a brief smile. “No harm in it. Be strong, alright? This fever will pass soon.”
Hartnell nodded, dazed; Peglar clapped him once more, then left, deftly dodging the bodies huddled on the ground, moaning men hunched all around. His steps were steady, Hartnell realized. Peglar’s eyes were focused, he didn’t walk as though fighting his own body… and his skin was so cool.
Considering yesterday evening, Peglar was flushed and trembling from lust, same as the rest of them… a bud of hope bloomed in Hartnell’s chest. Maybe this fever was abating, after all.
------------
“They’re not getting better.”
“Not on Erebus, either.” John Bridgens ran a hand through his hair, heaving a deep sigh. Beneath the moonlight, he looked like a medieval king, crowned in silver and moonlight. Henry Peglar felt the sudden desire to bury his hands in John’s hair, to kiss along his hairline while tugging just to, until the man was trembling against him…
But that wasn’t the fever talking. He had those thoughts any given Wednesday.
“What do we do?” Henry asked, restlessly twisting a length of rope in his hands. “They’re burning up, all of them, and it’s driving them mad. Yet they won’t — none of them.” He shook his head, breathless. “I mean, Christ, why won’t they?”
John shrugged. “Some men are very set in their ways.”
“Yes, but… they’re suffering!” Henry’s eyes were wide. “When it’s all they want, and all of it could be cured if they’d just let the man next to them frig them. I mean —“ He flailed. “We figured it out as soon as we got a moment alone!”
John shook his head, and laid a hand on Henry’s shoulder. He had this way about him — always able to calm some raging storm inside of Henry that he’d never even realized could be settled, ‘til John came along. The world made sense when John was near. Henry could see clearly.
Why were the damned men too set in their For-Queen-and-Country morals to even consider being loved by another man?
“Don’t judge them too harshly,” John counseled. “They are in pain, and they need kindness. We cannot force them to do what they don’t want to. With any luck, this affliction will pass on its own.”
“Sure,” Henry retorted. “Or they might just go insane and throw themselves into the sea for relief, like Odysseus and the sirens.”
“I am afraid,” said another voice, “that is a very real concern.”
Doctor McDonald emerged from below-decks, his shirtsleeves rolled up to his elbows to reveal strong forearms and deft hands. His bright eyes were clear, his skin free of fever-flush.
(Who on earth did he — Henry wondered — then considered McDonald’s camaraderie with the whole crew, and his penchant for tight trousers, and decided it wasn’t surprising at all.)
“The afflicted men’s temperatures continue to rise,” McDonald reported gravely. “The longer they go without relief, the worse they will get. They are already losing their minds from fever and desperation. We may expect it will get worse, if they do not find relief.”
John and Henry exchanged uneasy looks. McDonald stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We must encourage them to take the cure — or, in dire cases, intervene. It is more than mercy now, lads. It may be a choice between their morals, or their very lives.”
Re: FILL: a relentless fever, (everyone, pairings implied), M, slight dubcon, horny sir john [part 1
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 07:19 pm (UTC)(link)The atmosphere is so dense, the need so raw and tangible. I love the feral, unhinged aching want paired with their societal iron will... and I love that you really made them suffer. This was so incredibly hot and I tip my hat to you, what an amazing fill! Thank you!!
Re: FILL: a relentless fever, (everyone, pairings implied), M, slight dubcon, horny sir john [part 1
(Anonymous) 2022-10-03 08:17 pm (UTC)(link)Re: FILL: a relentless fever, (everyone, pairings implied), M, slight dubcon, horny sir john [part 1
(Anonymous) 2022-10-04 10:39 pm (UTC)(link)