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At first Edward thought it was a girl. [...] The shrill it emitted drove that explanation out of Little’s mind.
Edward and Tom become the surrogate parents of a very strange arctic creature.
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Francis Crozier is the Chief Whip of a beleaguered Labour Party. His best friend's abandoned him and his party leader's an idiot. And then there's the posh bastards on the other side, especially that shiny-haired eejit Fitzjames...
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September, 1979.
Sir John Franklin, regional director of Terrebus Inc., has cherry-picked a selection of his staff to attend a morale-boosting corporate retreat at a mountain lodge in the beautiful Canadian Rockies. It promises to be a relaxing weekend for everyone – but all is not as it seems. When mysterious occurrences start happening around the lodge, some of the staff begin to suspect that it is haunted, and the sudden disappearance of a senior staff member only exacerbates everyone’s fears. And with a freak blizzard threatening to snow them in, the Terrebus team has no choice but to face the mysterious forces of the lodge.
Will they be able to survive the blizzard long enough to get help and solve the mystery of what’s stalking them? Or will the Terrebus corporate retreat end in bloody tragedy? -
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Comic inspired by The Terror, Episode Six, A Mercy.
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Le Vesconte pushes him through the tent flap.
“For what it’s worth,” he says, low enough so that only Sol can hear him, as they round the corner to see Hickey, arms bound and smirking like he was off to the races, “I don’t blame you.”
A man, Sol thinks, as he steps up to the gallows, Hickey beside him and Le Vesconte behind him. All officers are men.
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“You think you can go again?” Sol asks quietly, his rough voice low in Edward’s ear. “Not too worn out?”
Edward snorts. “It takes a lot more to wear me out.”
Sol shifts, easily pushing Edward onto his back and grinning down at him. Edward can’t help but smile back.
“I’ll give it my best shot, then,” Sol declares, preemptively smug. “Spread your fucking legs, Edward.”
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tumblr terror ficlets collection ♡ by caravaggiosbrushes
Fandoms: The Terror (TV 2018), The Terror - Dan Simmons
21 Feb 2021
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a collection of all the fanfics I got prompt for on tumblr (bless)
fitzier, joplittle and fitzconte, for now.Enjoy! ♡
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The part that George himself played in the action is increasingly beginning to feel like a vivid hallucination, not least because no has said anything to him about it. Which George doesn’t mind!
Hodgson's direct hit on the Tuunbaq goes largely unrecognized, lost in the mounting stack of immediate crises on board Terror. He's waited all his life for a moment like this, and tries his best not to take the snub to heart.
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Edward Little returns from the War.
Thomas has been waiting for him.
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Spring of 1881 – Thomas Jopson, burning with childlike curiosity, pursued a strange rabbit-man into the forest and down the rabbit-hole. He arrived to an alleged paradise damned by winter and curses, as he was plagued by the wrecking memories of a dead Prince who bore his face.
♚
Check out Dark Wonderland's promotional video!
@Terror Big Bang 2020 Late Entry
Series
- Part 2 of A Sigh Escapes From Heaven
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After a miraculous rescue from the Arctic, Edward Little lives a quiet life in his lakehouse in the countryside. Thomas Jopson lives a busy life in the heart of London.
A reunion, an invitation, a prolonged stay in the countryside. Two people learning how to heal and find happiness together.
Obligatory Little has a cottage in the country and doesn't know how to tell Jopson he wants him to stay forever fic.
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Who Art Black As Hell, As Dark As Night by slantedwonders
Fandoms: The Terror (TV 2018), The Musketeers (2014)
15 Feb 2021
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There is something terribly wrong with Edward Little. There is something insidious that haunts him. A malevolence that hunts and taunts him. He is plagued by it, this thing, this entity. It has always been with him, from boyhood to manhood, and it will be there even at his death. He knows this with each breath that fills his lungs. He feels this with each beat of his heart.
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Or, The Terror Rarepair Week 2021.
Seven stories showcasing less-featured Terror ships that I'm partial too. Some are light, some are dark, some are both, and some are in-between. All epigraphs come from songs of the nineteen-sixties because that's what I listen to much of the time. Further information will be in the individual chapter summaries.
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“Good evening,” the man said gruffly.
“Good evening,” he answered, offering his most charming smirk.
“We’ve seen you around before, right?” the man asked with a note of suspicion as he came to stand by the boy, lifting one broad hand to the child’s dark hair. James didn’t begrudge him the tone; he was, after all, a strange man talking to his son at the park.
“Yes,” he nodded easily, and then gestured in the general direction of his street. “I just moved in a few days ago.”
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After a chance meeting at the park, James strikes up a friendship (and maybe more) with his new neighbour.Written for my Terror Bingo square "Single Parents".
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The expedition's sole survivors meet in Pimlico. For the prompt ‘After The Expedition’.
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In a quiet little house in London, Mr Jopson takes charge of his men.
Fill for day six of Rarepair Week, “After the expedition”.
Series
- Part 2 of composing unity
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In the fall of 1811, in the English village of Meryton, the arrival of wealthy bachelors, Mr. Hedges and Mr. Pilkington stirs up the families with single children. Among those is the Crozier-Fitzjames family, with five eligible sons, including the spirited and caring, Solomon, and his pretty and kind older brother, Thomas. As their fathers push them to marry, Solomon's encounters with the peremptory Mr. Pilkington make him want to swear off marriage for good.
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It was quiet in the house when Edward returned. The lodgings weren't much for heroes of Her Majesty’s Navy, but the house taken for the officers had real wooden beds with quite tolerable mattresses, and Edward's room had a window that looked out over the beach. From some of the other rooms, he could hear quiet snores- the weather here was so fine and warm that some of the fellows had taken to long afternoon naps, like the Spaniards' siesta, sleeping inside or outside as their fancy took them, alone or piled up together like puppies. Perhaps Edward would join them today; he could stick a pillow behind himself to keep from rolling onto his sore ear.
But he had a task to attend to, first. Removing his boots, then unbuttoning his jacket and then his shirt, he stripped to the waist, and took the little bag from the market out of his pocket.
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As he entered the men’s toilet, Dundy was just coming out of a stall, holding his phone and looking quite proud.
“... Have you just done a dick pic in there?”
“I can send it to you too, if you like.”
“No thanks,” said Edward. “I remember.”
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Private Heather pays Edward a visit in his cabin.