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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.
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!
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Fill: Congruent - Goodsir/Lady Jane, dubcon, implied character death/suicide as in show
(Anonymous) 2022-10-05 01:08 am (UTC)(link)"You were the last to touch him," said Jane. "Your hands laid his body to rest." Her voice ran shallowly over deep and angry currents. Her mourning lent her a new severity.
"Yes," said Harry. He did not mention the technicality of its having been one small part of a body. He had spent many evenings systematically purging his memory of stuffing a dead man's leg into a sock. Like a sausage.
"I'm sure he was grateful to you, for that last kindness."
"I," said Harry, because in point of fact, the man had been far beyond gratitude. Could a leg be grateful? Surely gratitude would be located more centrally, or in the nervous system. It reverberated in the chest, though he doubted whether it originated there.
Then Jane's hand was on his chest, and the feeling originating from that contact swept away all reflection. "He was killed," she said thoughtfully, "by a great bear."
"A tragedy," said Harry, still uncertain which details had been released to the grieving widows and mothers, and nevertheless suspecting that appending 'eaten' would not offer her succor.
"You cared for him."
"He was a fine captain."
"There was no need for a wake. No chance that he might--"
"No," Harry said.
"In another place, flowers might have bloomed over him."
"Yes," said Harry.
"While you were gone, a sparrow flew into the house, through a window," Jane said, as if she had not heard him. "One of its wings was badly hurt. It fluttered but could not balance nor rise. A maid killed it."
Harry nodded.
"The clocks did not stop. The mirrors remained uncovered."
"Lady Franklin--"
"You know why you are here?"
He nodded again. From the soles of his feet rose prickles of ice.
"Upstairs, then. On the right."
He followed her, ascending. By the third step, his breath had begun to cloud. He summited the flight heaving for air as if he had climbed a mountain.
"On the bed," said Jane. She looked just past his ear, her mouth set. He shivered and began to disrobe.
"You were the last to touch him," she said, settling across his thighs. Her fingernails left dark crescents on his chest, and again across his collarbones. "You will be the last to touch me."
Where he was free of her dark skirts, his skin had begun to numb. Beneath them, he felt impossibly warm, as if she had gathered a sun into her and prepared now to release it. She settled herself onto him and rocked experimentally. Then she moved her knees to find a better angle.
"You are lost, and filthy," she said, as sweat rose in the hollow of her throat. "You are starving. You have left all semblance of sanity and fellowship behind."
Harry thought of the rhapsodic way his acquaintances had discussed their misadventures, their description of the great rushes of feeling as they seized and spent. He felt now the idea of that pleasure, draped like a membrane of softness over a plain of broken glass.
"I'm bleeding," he said distantly. Blots of red blossomed over the linens.
"You're not done," said Jane. "I'm not done with you." Her breath came quickly now, and inside her a kind of quickness too, a silky, slick grasping at him. "I'm not done."
"It will stain."
"It has already stained." She gasped, and made a small sound, and the round muscles of her thighs wrenched at his hips. Her head fell forward and she caught herself with hands made claws, tearing at him. "There is nothing that will get it out."
"No," he said. The cold had spread, even now to where they touched, even to where her fingers had come to rest over his throat. "There is nothing."
Re: Fill: Congruent - Goodsir/Lady Jane, dubcon, implied character death/suicide as in show
(Anonymous) 2022-10-05 01:06 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Congruent - Goodsir/Lady Jane, dubcon, implied character death/suicide as in show
(Anonymous) 2022-10-08 06:09 am (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Congruent - Goodsir/Lady Jane, dubcon, implied character death/suicide as in show
(Anonymous) 2022-10-10 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)