#E. / ONE LAST CARNIVALE.

[valtsv]

Do you have any favourite fitzier fanfics :3c

yeah alright:

to be as one is (series) by TheGoodDoctor (rating: G, T) (this one deals a lot with gender and self identity and never fails to make me smile no matter how rotten i'm feeling)

Through by robokittens (E) (one of the tags on this fic is "spiritual woundfucking" and i feel like that recommends this fic better than i can in my own words)

oh you pretty things by wildcard_47 (T) (one of many 'Francis buys James a dress' fics, but this one stood out to me because the dialogue and prose is just so thoroughly delightful to read)

The Shipmaster's Song by ripeteeth (T) (what if... we were shipwrecks at the bottom of the ocean... and we were both doomed polar explorers...)

Sunlight, sunlight, sunlight by for_autumn_i_am (E) (a 'what if Carnivale didn't go up in literal smoke' au where everything aches with the promise of future tragedy but still manages to be heartwarming)

an unexpected gift by aes3plex (G) (JFJ meets Francis' extensive family. all of this author's works are incredible but this one was my favorite, equal parts charming and heartwrenching.)

twin high maintenance machines by veganthranduil (E) (obligatory 'the one where they both have erectile dysfunction but they still try to make it work' fic; selected this one specifically for the equal parts delightfully and painfully in character dialogue.)

Swallow by Daucus (T) ('gross' intimacy my beloved. you know the scene in Princess Mononoke where San feeds Ashitaka when he's too weak to care for himself so that he'll survive and heal? well that rewired MY brain and this is the fitzier version.)

burnt-out match in a dark room by deadgreeks (T) (marriage/death parallels and the intimacy of performing someone's last funeral rites. this one's a 'keep a pack of tissues on hand just in case' one.)

singing even so by shortcrust (T) (Orpheus and Eurydice in the Arctic. had me staring blankly into space and hugging myself as if chilled for nearly an hour after i finished it.)

The Gunner's Daughter by reinetta (E) (the most gorgeously written and romantic depiction of a sadomasochistic scene i've ever had the pleasure of reading)

Da mi basia mille, deinde centum by anactoriatalksback (M) (makeout fic, but calling it a "makeout fic" is so vastly underselling this. the plot is literally "they make out", but you will be hanging on to every word and astonished by the amount of character study that the author manages to pack into that premise.)

Buried deep as you can dig inside yourself by 5runner5 (M) (PTSD recovery fic in a pre-PTSD recognition era, and by far my favorite for how honest it is about the difficult reality of communication and recovery in a relationship)

shall warmer, sweeter be by baestard (T) (a wonderful exploration of transgender identity and self-discovery that remains impressively period accurate. or: 'what if we survived the arctic and we were both girls'.)

[littl3pin3]

🇮🇹 Top 10 dei libri letti in questa prima metà del 2024. Trovate titolo italiano, titolo originale e autore. (A partire da luglio mi piacerebbe fare un post col miglior libro/libri del mese :D) Alcune info: vi è un autore italiano nella lista quindi ci sarà solo il titolo in italiano; in un caso il titolo è lo stesso nell’edizione italiana; il primo della trilogia “Truly, Devious” in realtà lo avevo letto l’anno scorso ma ho voluto inserirlo dato che si tratta di una serie. --- 🇬🇧 Top 10 books read in this first half of 2024. Find the Italian title, original title and author. (Starting from July I'd like to make a post with the best book/books of the month.) Some info: there's an Italian author in the list so there will only be the title in Italian; in one case the title is the same in the Italian edition; I actually read the first of the “Truly, Devious” trilogy last year but I wanted to include it since it's a series. 01. La Senzanima | The Girl With No Soul (Morgan Owen) 02. La casa dai vetri verdi | Greenglass House (Kate Milford) 03. La cattedrale di sabbia (Leonardo Patrignani) 04. Tress del Mare Smeraldo | Tress of the Emerald Sea (Brandon Sanderson) 05. Il Carosello delle Curiosità | The Carnivale of Curiosities (Amiee Gibbs) 06. Il sangue della Città | Le Sang de la Citè (Guillaume Chamanadjian) 07. Where the Dark Stands Still (A.B. Poranek) 08. Cordialmente, Perfido - Truly, Devious (Maureen Johnson) 09. La scala evanescente - The Vanishing Stair (Maureen Johnson) 10. La mano sul muro - The Hand on the Wall (Maureen Johnson)

[aveaugvstus]

JULY 4TH, 1845, 9:50PM. HALL OF GAMES. CLOSED FOR @wilccard​.

the sound of drunken laughter and revelry carries in swirling tides of joy and uninhibited freedom from the shores of godhvn all the way across the baffin bay. the air is beginning to shift, as celebrations like these are wont do, as the liquor flows swifter and the trade and barter for local spirits and improvised moonshine makes its way through the gathered crowd. in the center of it all, the eye of a maelstrom, is augustus. augustus in his napoleonic burnous, racing rings around the tracks laid out with ropes and brilliantly coloured ribbons upon his noble stallion that he has aptly named zeph (short for zephyros, naturally). augustus, surrounded danish and promethean alike, sweeping the card table in a stroke of deus ex machina luck. augustus, making friends everywhere he goes with promises to return and make merry with the local sailors and fishermen in summers to come, yet thinking of the one friend whose face he hasn’t seen amongst the sea of familiar ones all evening. 

he makes his excuses from the card table to a cheer of raucous teasing and jeers, and finds his axis of gravity tilted by a few degrees by the whisky he’d taken several swills of from a burly danish sailor’s flask. (hans, terrible at games but had a flair for distilling housemade whisky.) he manages to swagger his way to the exit, lifting the flap of the tent clumsily and letting it fall. the brightly painted tarp flicks at his cape as he steps out into the night air, as if to make one last grasp at the heart of all its easy merriment.

above the tents tapering endlessly higher, the stars are brighter than they have ever been in london’s skies. entranced, he finds himself a spot on the grass a few feet away from the entrance of the tents and splays himself out on the ground. more out of the drunken inability to cling to gravity than a purposeful dismount. and perhaps it’s because they know each too well to stay apart for any length of time (or that vladimir happens to stumble out of the tent of wonders and catch the torchlight gleaming from the gilded crown askew upon his head), but he whirls in staggered delight at the sound of his name.

“dimor!”  he cries out, waving both arms above his head in greeting.  the sight of vladimir sends a brilliant grin across his gilt-kissed face, a solar flare elation.  “old boy, it seems you have jousted with dionysus himself and lost. come, come, sit and tell me of your exploits this evening and how you managed to find a liquor strong enough to knock you off your feet!”

[tomjopson]

First Line Game!

I was tagged by @ferrame (thank you! ❤️) to share the first line of my last 20 fics. I incidentally did an exercise like this eons ago, so let’s see how much my style has changed — or not lol 

(update: nope! style is still roughly the same; usually a short factual statement or observation, with the occasional exception)

tagging: @pooraurora, @bluebacchus @heyktula @areyougonnabe, @pitcherplant, @ferylcheryl, @tombowline - only if you want to of course :)

1. belonging, The Terror, 4k words, Rated M, Joplittle

For many weeks after they set sail, Edward does not notice the stewards.

2. you & me & the devil makes three, The Terror, 1.6k words, Rated M, Edward Little & Le Vesconte, Gen

“The men will have a say, of course.”

3. a helping hand, The Terror, 1.1k words, Rated E, William Heather/Edward Little

Long before Terror left Greenhithe, Edward knew winter would be difficult during the voyage.

4. after three bells, The Terror, 1.7k words, Rated T, Alexander MacDonald/Thomas Jopson

Most of the crew are asleep, but Tom hasn't the time nor the effort to sleep himself.

5. shiloh, The Terror, 6.5k words, Rated T, John Irving-centric, some Edward Little/John Irving

A fly buzzes along Sir John Ross’s hairline.

6. I know the taste of your name, The Terror, 4.3k words, Rated M, Solomon Tozer/Edward Little

“Edward?”

A stab, not a question.

“That’s your name, isn’t it?”

(cheating since i didn’t just want to put ‘Edward’)

7. from the skin to the soul, The Terror, 44k words, Rated T, Joplittle

Thomas.

He hears it echoing down the walls, a sinister sigh whose source he cannot discern, swallowed as it is by the paneling on the walls and the thick carpet underfoot.

8. of gold and glory, The Terror, 2k words, Rated G, Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson

For Thomas, the aromas of a bustling dockyard are sweeter than perfume and incense, and he anticipates that the most.

9. so much love the whole thing feels like a lie, The Terror, 3.8k words, Rated E, Solomon Tozer/Cornelius Hickey

The orlop is hardly his idea of a pleasant place to be, but the longer the ships are iced in, the more restless Tozer has become.

10. the strangest things, The Terror, 857 words, Rated G, Thomas Honey & Alexander Berry, Gen

SCENE —

The Arctic, On the Ice, Winter. It is night. It is always night.

CARPENTER THOMAS HONEY and ABLE SEAMAN ALEXANDER BERRY enter, dragging a sled wrapped in canvas, its contents lashed on with rope. HONEY carries a smoky lantern. The two men stop to rest, facing the audience. HONEY places the lantern on top of the sled. Behind them, men pull other sleds or carry boxes, all talking among themselves. Excitement buzzes among them.

(another odd one where I’m bending the rules since I wrote this fic in script format)

11. the uniform makes the man, The Terror, 500 words, Rated E, Solomon Tozer/Edward Little & Solomon Tozer/Thomas Armitage

The ship lies empty as most of Terror’s crew have already left for Commander Fitzjames’ Carnivale.

12. Axes & Acorns, The Terror, 13k words, Rated M, Joplittle

Sweat trickles down Edward’s forehead, stinging his eyes, and he tastes salt mixed with dirt and bramble as he wipes his palm across his face.

13. sea wives, The Terror, 1.1k words, Rated E, Solomon Tozer/Thomas Armitage

He wrinkles his nose at the stench of bilgewater.

14. no men but animals, The Terror, 60k words, Rated E, Solomon Tozer/Edward Little, Joplittle, Solomon Tozer/Edward Little/Thomas Jopson

There is no gold, so they travel West.

15. the surgeon’s service, The Terror, 763 words, Rated M, Alexander McDonald/Solomon Tozer

You remember neither waking nor walking the deck, but you find yourself at the top of the hatch, descending the ladder in time with twelve bells.

16. a shadow’s touch, The Musketeers (2014), 1.2k words, Rated M, Lucien Grimaud/Feron

All his life, Feron has walked in the shadows of others.

17. i promised you a house, The Terror, 500 words, Rated T, Francis Crozier/Thomas Jopson

Jopson stands still in the open door, backlit by the hazy morning outside.

18. a fine lobster kettle, The Terror, 3.3k words, Rated E, Solomon Tozer/Edward Little

Solomon realizes he is staring when Bill nudges him.

19. quadrupole, The Terror, 499 words, Rated G, Lady Ann Ross/Sophia Cracroft

The magnetic North Pole wanders, and so does the man who discovered it.

20. first impressions, The Terror, 971 words, Rated G, George Hodgson & James Fitzjames, Gen

Excitement and trepidation alike mix inside George the moment he steps aboard Her Majesty’s Ship Terror.

[ernest-shackleton]

Terrortober Day 6: Dress

For @damienhirstsdiamondskull, who suggested James in a dress to me a couple of days ago, and for @raffaelllllo, who wants to top James’ brains out.

Rated E - Read on AO3

Francis Crozier wouldn’t have thought himself the sort of person to have arrangements of this sort.

It had been going on for a while, several months by now, during which it had become a habit for James to come to him, and sometimes Francis to make the trip to Erebus, the sole reason of those visits being sex.

Maybe it was more. Companionship or simply the need to feel another person’s skin against the own. Francis had had a minor crisis when James had first made advances, but now, especially since he had sobered up, something had shifted between them. Francis didn’t dare think about it too much, lest he find out something he would rather leave undiscovered.

After Carnivale, James hadn’t contacted him; Francis had been the first to look for him and found him curled up in his cabin, weeping. That night was the first they spent together without either of them getting off.

Now, Francis was standing in front of the cabin again, no doubt a much too soft smile on his lips, as he knocked on the door. No reply came from within. Bridgens had told him James was in his quarters, so Francis decided to knock again.

“It’s me,” he called.

Footsteps approached from within, the door slid open a bit and James’ head peaked out.

“Francis! I hadn’t expected you yet,” he said. There was a blush on his cheeks and a somewhat odd twinkle in his eyes.

“Is this a bad time?” he asked nonetheless. If James would rather have some peace, he would understand.

James shook his head slowly, then opened the door a bit wider and beckoned Francis inside. He huffed a laugh when he saw the reason why James hadn’t opened the door all the way before. He was in his undergarments.

“I uh… I found this before carnivale,” James mumbled and motioned in the direction of the bed. A rather simple reddish pink dress was neatly laid out there.

“Oh,” said Francis.

James didn’t reply.

“Oh,” said Francis again, when he realised that the reason James wasn’t wearing clothes was because he had been about to put on the dress.

“You can go ahead,” Francis said softly.

James’ face lit up at that.

It took them a while to get James into the dress, but when he finally turned around to face Francis, there was something crackling in the air between them. Francis swallowed. Dressing James in this outfit had already awakened some interest in his groin; the look James gave him now only made his trousers feel tighter.

“What do you think?” James asked, tentatively.

Francis nodded and stepped closer. “Perfect,” he said, before going in for a kiss. James responded eagerly; he was freshly shaven, Francis realised as he rested one hand on James’ cheek. The other wandered to the small of James’ back, pulling him closer, Francis’ fingers trailing across the soft fabric of the dress.

The bulge between James’ legs was unmistakable against Francis’ leg as he navigated them towards the bed.

“Will you…?” James looked at him as he sat down on the side board. “In the dress?”

Francis nodded. “If you want it.”

James blushed, bit his lip, eyes growing dark as he struggled to get off his underwear from under the dress. Francis took off his boots and joined him on the bed a moment later. Another kiss had James melting into his touch. Francis slowly nudged a hand under the layers of the skirt and up James’ thigh. It elicited a sweet moan from him, that Francis wanted to hear more of. He undid his fly and rid himself of his trousers, while James hiked up the skirt to his hips; his dick was lying against his thigh and Francis noticed when James spread his legs, that James’ entrance was slicked up already. He swallowed.

“You got ready for this?” Francis asked hoarsely. James looked up at him with big eyes.

“Wanted to be wet for you.”

Francis felt like he could come undone just from hearing James speak like that.

“I want you now, go slow and… don’t touch me?” James continued, he was giving himself to Francis like this and in that moment, he wanted nothing more than to give James what he desired, in turn.

“Are you sure you’re… prepared?” Francis asked. James nodded and gave him the vial of oil from his bedside.

Francis poured some into his hand, then closed his fingers around his prick, making sure he was slicked up properly. He wiped his hand on the sheets and swallowed. Seeing James spread out for him like this was something he might never get used to.

Carefully he lined himself up, the tip of his now achingly hard dick pressed against the tender opening. As he pushed in, James moaned - a deep guttural noise that left his lips parted and his head thrown back in ecstasy. Francis moved, thrust in, slowly but deliberately while he watched James: the way his blush settled on his cheeks, how his chest heaved under the fabric of the dress. The tight heat of him seemed to pull Francis in, not letting him go, once he was sheathed fully inside of James.

He reached out to him, cupping his cheek, pressing a kiss to James’ reddened lips.

“Move,” James panted, and Francis obeyed. He started to roll his hips, an instinctive motion, driving himself deep into James, as if trying to mark him.

Francis shifted slightly with every thrust, trying to find that spot - the one that made James howl with pleasure, that made his eyes glassy and his body seize up. It took a minute, but the reaction was unmistakable, when Francis succeeded. James squeezed tightly around him, cried out into the cool air of the cabin, while his fingers cramped into the sheets at his sides. Francis felt like he could come in that moment - he was close, wouldn’t last much longer, but he clenched his teeth in an effort to control himself.

His next thrust hit that spot again. James made a noise somewhere between a moan and a sob; he pulled Francis down on top of him, fingernails digging into the skin of his back.

Francis’ rhythm sped up. He was close, chasing his release and so caught up in his pleasure that for a moment it didn’t register that James had reached his peak with a shout; he spent all over their thighs and bellies, the dress was soiled and the blush on James’ cheekbones had the same colour as the rosy pink of its hem. It didn’t take Francis a long time to finish - the sight of James, looking up at him with dark eyes full of pleasure and unspoken desire, made up like this and spread out for him. Just for him.

Francis pushed in once more and was done for. He collapsed on top of James, breathing heavily for several long minutes.

When he pulled out, the dress fell back over James’ thighs. He looked elegant and enchanting - like Francis’ wildest desires and most daring wishes come to life.

“Beautiful,” he muttered.

The shy smile and deepening blush he earned for it made his heart clench with something he was afraid to name but that was a problem for later.

In that moment, Francis kissed James and just then, his world was perfect.

[zipegs]

i’ve been toying around with the idea of posting a fic rec list for a while, and finally decided that if i do, it might be nice to focus on newer and/or underrated fics in the fandom! some of my absolute favorites are on this list, and i highly suggest checking them out (and leaving the lovely authors some comments and kudos!)

this got pretty long, but it’s organized alphabetically by ship name (including gen) and then by length inside each ship!

blanky/little

Trysails by saltstreets  /  2k, t

“I know I can’t do much,” Blanky said, “but you can always talk to me. If you’re so inclined.”

A (very late!) offering for Tender Tuesday, "a friend in need".

okay!!!!!! okay!!!!! hear me out on this one!! this fic is wonderful. i’m a sucker for fics dealing with edward’s suffering during the worst of crozier’s captaincy, and this one is so good. blanky is so wonderful in this; i feel like his tender, kind side frequently gets overlooked in favor of his bigger, bolder attributes, and this fic truly delivers on everything i’ve been missing! it’s really gentle and sweet and i urge you to give it a read!!!!

bridglar

in the low lamplight by stelleri  /  338, g

It’s endless freezing rain outside, but the house is comfortably warm.

short and sweet! a really lovely little slice-of-life modern au

state of grace by aes3plex  /  860, m

He doesn’t mean to see it. He never does.

bridglar may be the most featured pairing, but this is told from irving’s pov and also contains irving/little and references to hickey/gibson. really sad, conflicted little peek into irving’s mind (and some nice, soft bridglar as well!)

passer iagoensis by greenery  /  3k, g

Night falls on the Beagle and Henry Peglar has just finished reading his very first novel.

Set in 1832.

this piece is so good!! it has some really beautiful (sad) foreshadowing of the franklin expedition, and is just... so soft, with some wonderful romantic tension!! and it’s funny! darwin and fitzroy are wonderful in this, and i’m always here for fic that deals with peglar learning to read (which this does!!!).

cracroft/crozier

the beggar’s opera by pyotr  /  990, e

for all of his usual anger and surliness it was almost fun to fluster francis, to rile him where he could not retaliate. sophia had spent all her life under the thumb of some man or another; she loved francis in part because she always had the upper hand.

sophia is my queen and that’s all i’ll say about that. seriously though, this piece is just... *chef’s kiss*

fitzconte

A Cheetah Never Changes His Spots by onstraysod  /  1.2k, m

Being the particular friend of James Fitzjames has its drawbacks, as Henry Le Vesconte learns during the expedition's first carnivale. But it also has its advantages, as Henry learns once the carnivale is over.

Written for Day 1 (A Special Disguise) of the 12 Days of Carnivale.

on beechey island, fitzjames reveals clio’s cheetah to the men. or... something like it! this piece is really a blast; fitzjames is in rare form, francis is glaring form the sidelines, and le vesconte is an absolute champ. and the ending is wonderfully witty and racy!

fitzier

wake me up, wake me up my darling by norvegiae  /  1.4k, g  /  mcd

James Fitzjames feels like a new man.

The old James Fitzjames lies on the cot in front of him, cradled by the man he wishes he could have had more time with.

set during 1.09, this fic is a really poignant, heartwrenching piece in which james comes to terms with the reality of his death, and of his life, as he watches francis grieve. very sad, and wonderfully written!

what the stars give us by WetSammyWinchester  /  1.7k, t  /  implied death

"They may know space, James, but you know what it means to truly fly."

70s scifi (space program!!!) au. really great translation of the terror; the mood in this is so good!!! and the little flashbacks are fantastic. it’s pretty sad, but it hurts in a good way.

fitzrossier

Take Your Turn, Take A Ride by courfairyac  /  7.5k, e

Francis agrees to accompany his friend to a masquerade, and stumbles onto something quite unexpected.

In short: Festivities! Voyeurism! James in a dress!

listen... fitzrossier is my new weakness, and this is a really fun, hot, canon-universe (pre-expedition) au.

gen

salvation by scribomania  /  250, t

The Concordia brings them survival, but not salvation.

featuring hodgson and little, and jopson. for a survival au, this little piece hurts!!! it’s so short, but it packs a punch. really, really good.

but no one remembers yet by disastermovie  / 885, t

“From the mutilated state of many of the corpses and the contents of the kettles, it is evident that our wretched countrymen had been driven to the last resource—cannibalism—as a means of prolonging existence.”

—excerpt from Dr. John Rae’s report on the fate of the Franklin Expedition to the Secretary of the Admiralty (written from Repulse Bay on July 29, 1854)

sad little epilogue concerning sophia and lady jane dealing with their grief

the weary world rejoices by disastermovie  /  1.3k, t

Fitzjames goes to his first Christmas party after the survivors are rescued. It doesn't go well.

this!!!! fic!!! i can’t even do it justice, it’s just so good. the slow build of james’s panic, the caroling and gaiety as a backdrop... it’s just so painful in the best way. i’m incoherent; pls just read it,

la belle dame sans merci by drowninglovers  /  1.7k, g

Nobody is quite sure who the first one to start making her clothing is, but one day she scampers over the shoulders of the ABs as they line up for lunch wearing a tiny shirt to match her pants. It’s nothing special, no fancy detail, navy blue like most everything else they wear. Whoever made it must have cared a great deal, to make sure it fit her perfectly.

this is incredibly fun!!! just some good, wholesome fic about boys dressing up their favorite lady. 10000/10 would recommend.

Come Here, Fellow Servant by whipstitch  /  1.9k, t

The sea is dangerous, but so too is the open sky. And in that case, Cornelius determines, a friend is an unexpected boon.

okay, i made a rule that i wasn’t going to include wips on this rec list,  but i had to put this guy on here. it could be read as a stand-alone, actually, which is what i used to convince myself to include it. peglar realizes that hickey has no fucking idea what he’s doing, and tries to help him, kind, caring sweetheart that he is. this is a really, really nice little piece—i love everything about it.

lie alone by greenery  /  2k, g

He turns the page. And maybe this is it. Maybe writing a letter to young Tom Hartnell is reason enough to leave the berth.

really nice oneshot featuring two good boys (hodgson & hartnell) and their wholesome status as pen pals

the crooked kind by darrenjolras  /  2.3k, m  /  non-consensual voyeurism

“You and I, Jopson,” Hickey says, and Jopson startles at those words alone, turns an affronted gaze his way. Hickey bathes in the glacial blue of it. Like being thrown overboard. “You and I aren’t so different, you know.”

Based on that Hickey/Jopson scene. You know the one.

the terror bingo fill: court martial

not totally gen, but also not really hickey/jopson? twisted, but very much in character; hickey is his delightful self in this, and his verbal sparring with jopson is very well done and quite fun to read!

gibson/hickey

Touch Her Not Scornfully by skazka  /  2k, e

Stolen moments down below.

this fic is just... really fucking good!!! it’s a fantastic look at the very early days of gibson & hickey’s relationship, and an intriguing little venture into billy’s head.

goodsir/mcdonald

And That is How it Starts by Intrepid_Inkweaver  /  1.2k, g

It starts with a handshake and a warm smile at their introduction at Greenhithe.

a really sweet, lovely canon-divergent piece. written in 2nd person pov. these two are just such a good, wholesome pairing and this fic really does them justice!!

hartving

let loss reveal it by disastermovie  /  1.6k, t  /  mcd

Tom could never quite see himself taking a wife.

this shit fucking hurts!!!!!!! it’s a beautiful glimpse at irving & hartnell’s relationship, told through hartnell’s introspection, and is written really, really well. also did i mention that it fucking hurts???

Lookout Blues by ClockworkCourier  /  2.1k, g

John and Tom Hartnell talk about the future while they wait on a new shipment.

hello??? 1920s au??????? the world-building is so tangible in this, even in such a relatively short piece. it’s a really lovely little conversation between the brothers, and i absolutely loved their little discussion of irving.

we’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet by drowninglovers  /  6.3k, g

If this is to be the last time they interact (and it likely will), Tom wants it to be memorable.

survival au survival au!! tartnell runs into irving at john’s grave, and convinces him to stay with his family until new year’s. it’s kind of bittersweet, with some really great flashbacks (and discussions of said scenes!), and oh man is it soft!! just! really beautiful and tender, and the ending is just so cute!!!!!

hodgson/hickey

the chaos moves by itself by bluebacchus  /  1.3k, e  /  violence, mcd

Hodgson's mind cracks and the heavens flow in.

(Written for Day 7 of Halloween TerrorFest: A disquieting metamorphosis and posted separately because I don't want to taint my main post with borderline vore)

fair warning... this fic is fucked up, but in the best possible way! the religious imagery!!!! the philosophy!!!! just!! god.

hodgson/little

Allegro, B Flat Major by whalersandsailors  /  5.3k, g

George is freshly moved from his childhood home, ready to tackle the school year and his newfound independence all at once.

Too bad he's lonely, miserable, and homesick.

He turns to music when adulthood becomes unbearable, and when someone knocks at his door and leaves an anonymous note, George discovers another music lover not too far away.

have i mentioned i love george hodgson? because i love george hodgson. this fic is a beautiful modern au featuring our own georgie playing his way through his feelings (literally). the buildup to the reveal of george’s secret admirer is wonderful, and had me rooting for them from the start! really sweet, stunning fic for a pairing i’d never considered before!

joplittle

get out of the wind by Cicadaemon  /  1.6k, e

Edward Little is smitten with a certain bartender.

modern au. really lovely, wholesome, and happy; just what these boys deserve!

The Thylacine by Gigi_Sinclair  / 1.7k, t 

"Thylacines. That's what Sophia called them, all those years ago in Van Diemen's Land. Dogs with tiger stripes, cats with pouches. They stretch their jaws at him, as Francis struggles to sit. The movement makes his head spin. He pushes the discomfort aside. He has no time to entertain it; he must escape."

also features cracroft/crozier. this is a really clever, funny piece set during francis’s withdrawal; poor francis is a bit muddled in the throes of his fever, and gets caught up in a memory from van diemen’s land. i absolutely loved little and jopson’s reactions in this, and especially jopson and crozier’s conversation the next morning.

Prelude in D Major by scribomania  /  2.7k, t

Hodgson is very fond of the musical apparatus in Terror's great cabin; Edward is not.

For the Terror Bingo square "denial".

i’m a big big lover of terror lieutenant nonsense, and this fic absolutely delivers! just absolutely delightful.

When the Lights Go On Again by Gigi_Sinclair  /  4.1k, t

"Edward Little's ancestors were Naval officers, almost to a man. Nevertheless, from a young age, Edward's eyes turned to the sky rather than the sea.

He longed to fly, as high and as frequently as possible. In the Royal Air Force, he got his wish. He was happy there, thriving, rising in the ranks apace and doing what he always wanted to do. Then came the first of September, 1939."

wwii au. edward is a squadron leader in the royal air force, and jopson is a corporal working for group captain crozier. i’m weak for wwi and wwii aus to begin with, and this one is done beautifully. while it doesn’t hand-wave the trauma and heartbreak of war, it doesn’t hit you over the head with it either, and the result is a really soft, bittersweet, hopeful piece.

lozer

a lily for my love by whalersandsailors  /  3.7k, m

Solomon never thought that soul-signs were real, and the stories he heard about them made soulmates sound more like a prison sentence than any fairy tale romance. It is not until he finds a soul-sign on the skin of a very dear friend that he realizes their importance, as well as their undoing.

this piece is!!! beautiful!!! very poignant, and really had me feeling for solomon. i love what’s been done with the soulmark conceit—it’s not just a simple “we have soulmarks, we’re soulmates!!!’ au (which i’ll admit to enjoying too), but a really thoughtful take on the trope. the slow way tozer puzzles everything out is wonderful, and i love the glimpses we get into several of his friendships & relationships. 

morfin/weekes

to help you remember by whalersandsailors  /  1.2k, g

An anniversary, during which Weekes presents Morfin with a gift, and Morfin struggles to remember why.

do you ever just get clotheslined by a pairing you’d never even considered before? because that’s what this fic did to me

[eldritchsurveys]

659.

Where is the last place you had a kiss? >> Inworld. What did you eat for breakfast yesterday? >> The same thing I eat for breakfast every day. When was the last time you were at an amusement park? >> I don’t remember. When was the last time you cried out of physical pain? >> It’s been a long time. The last time I had a period, probably. Have you ever done anything to Support the Troops? >> No.

Do you donate blood? >> No. I was ineligible the last time I tried, anyway. Are you wearing two shirts? >> No, just an undershirt. Have you ever owned the socks with toes on them? >> No, they feel really uncomfortable and distracting. What were you the last time you went trick or treating? >> I’ve never gone. What’s your favorite morning activity? >> I don’t have a favourite morning activity. Can you cook? >> Yes. Is there a lot of laundry in your hamper? >> No, we do laundry weekly. I also just don’t make a lot of laundry to begin with. When do you think you’ll have children? >> --- Can you point out constellations in the night sky? >> Only Orion, like a lot of people. What was your favorite part about studying ancient Greeks and Romans? >> The mythologies, certainly. Have you ever eaten a gyro? >> Yes. What’s your favorite flavor of Tootsie pops? >> --- What’s the last thing you bought at a mall? >> Probably Sparrow’s Christmas gift. Haven’t been there at all this year. Where did your mom go to high school? >> --- What’s a subject you would never major in? >> Like, none of them. I’m not interested in formal education. Is there someone who you can turn to for money and not be ashamed? >> There is someone I can turn to for money, but that’s not going to stop me from being ashamed. When’s the last time you took a bubble bath? >> --- Have you ever swam in a river? >> I’ve been in a river, yes. Almost drowning, as one does. Are there any dirty clothes underneathe your bed? >> No. What food do you love the smell of while it’s cooking? >> Like, most of them? Cooking food just smells good. What food do you hate the smell of uncooked? >> *shrug* Has a bee ever stung you? >> No. Where did you last go camping? >> This place in Brooklyn. I forget the name of the location, but it was pretty interesting to still be in the city but feel so far out. It’s the same way I feel about Far Rockaway. In what month do you start Christmas shopping? >> I try to get things together throughout the year, because it’s easier to do that with my income. Also because I’m not the most practiced at gift-giving so I need a lot of time to prepare. Have you ever slept in a bed with someone with bad BO? >> No. Or, maybe, long long ago. I don’t know. Do you have a favorite flavor at Baskin Robbins? >> No. Are there fast food wrappers/cups in your car? >> --- Do you read the newspaper? >> No. What search engine do you use? >> DuckDuckGo. Have you ever posted a question on Yahoo questions? >> No. Have you ever been on a dating website? >> Yeah. I still have an OkCupid account, although I haven’t logged in in ages. I’d been on it for so long that I eventually got that email telling me that I can participate in site content moderation or whatever, lol. Have you ever had a crush on a celebrity of the same sex? >> --- What kind of flowers would you plant in your garden? >> Whatever is native to the region. Would you rather have a flat tire or overheated car? >> --- What’s the safest form of transportation? >> I don’t know. Do you believe that kids should be taught abstinence? >> I think they should be taught that abstinence is an option, but not the only one. When’s the next time you’ll go to the grocery store? >> Friday evening, probably. When’s the last time you went to Chuck E. Cheese? >> Never. What’s your favorite cheese or cheese flavored food? >> Oh, I don’t know. Do you like black licorice? >> Yep. Can you count to 100 in another language? >> No. What’s the nearest thing to you that can bounce? >> I... have no idea. I don’t think anything near me is bounce-able. Do you hate cleaning? >> Oh, you don’t even know. Do you clear dishes in the garbage disposal or in the garbage can? >> We don’t have a garbage disposal, so the trash. Do you watch anything on the E! network? >> No. Have you ever tried out or thought of trying out for American Idol? >> No. I did know someone who tried out for one of those shows... X Factor, I think it might have been. Where’s your car keys? >> --- Did you keep any momentos of high school dances? >> No. Do you still have clothes from your high school dances? >> Of course not. The last person you laid in bed with said… >> --- Can you touch your nose with your tongue? >> No. Which celebrities would you want to hang out with at a bbq? >> --- Do you think you could do better drawings than Napolean Dynamite? >> I don’t know how Napoleon Dynamite draws. What are you doing on Superbowl Sunday? >> It’s over already. I didn’t do anything Superbowl-related. Ever been to the original 13 colonies? >> I mean... yeah, I guess you could say that. Have you ever been to a concert that got out of control? >> Nope. Thankfully. What’s the last thing you watched on tv? >> The last thing I watched, period, was an episode of Carnivale.

Whose show should be cancelled? >> --- Do you like Lindsay Lohan as a blonde? >> I don’t care. When’s the last time you ate fruit? >> I had an applesauce pouch yesterday. Can you jump rope double dutch? >> Not at all.

[lafiametta]

Only one week to go before the celebration begins!

Just a reminder that the 12 Days of Carnivale celebration will start one week from today, on December 13th! In case you’ve somehow missed them, here are the themed prompts for each of the twelve days:

Day 1 (Dec 13): “a special disguise” Day 2 (Dec 14): “state of grace” Day 3 (Dec 15): “naughty or nice” Day 4 (Dec 16): “an unexpected gift” Day 5 (Dec 17): “a private performance” Day 6 (Dec 18): “fire and ice” Day 7 (Dec 19): “sledge ride” Day 8 (Dec 20): “a time of miracles” Day 9 (Dec 21): “by candlelight” Day 10 (Dec 22): “in hot water” Day 11 (Dec 23): “a long winter’s night” Day 12 (Dec 24): be inspired by the fandom-created wish list!

At this point, more than half of the items on the wish list have been claimed, which is wonderful, but we really would love to see all of them get claimed (and completed and posted) by the last day of the celebration! Below the cut, we’ve listed all the wish list items once more (the ones already claimed are struck-through), with the hope that the rest will be claimed very soon. Again, if you’re planning on making something from the wish list, please let @arcticelves know via ask or message. If you’re inspired by one of the wish list items that has already been claimed and you’d still really like to make something for it, again, please let @arcticelves know, but at this point we really would like to encourage people to take on some of those unclaimed items! 

As always, please be sure to tag all your posts #12daysofcarnivale. And if you’re posting works to AO3, we sure would love for you to also post it to the 12 Days of Carnivale collection!

All the wish list items (claimed and unclaimed) can be found below the cut:

@arcticelves: “I'd like to request a moodboard based on the premise that Edward survived and has gone on to be captain of his own ship.”

@thomasblanky: “anything with crozier and blanky, tho i’d Prefer fic or art, and no specific rating….. or joplittle”

@a-living-breathing-shitpost: “I would LOVELOVELOVE to see someone do something (I don't even care what medium, art, fic, gifset, whatever) to kind of juxtapose Crozier in ep. 1 talking about how "close is nothing, it's worse than nothing" with Little in ep. 10 whispering "Close" to Crozier as he dies??”

@brown-grey-skies: “Lt. Irving singing Christmas carols. Alternatively. Lt. Irving trying(And maybe failing) to lead a choir.”

@worshipthesquid: “I don't mind very much as to the format - fics, gifs and art all good - but I would love to see something with all the doctors (and medical staff) together, maybe with the addition of Bridgens. Perhaps even for a Christmas meal! Angst is fine and so is shameless friendship/cohabitation fluff. Preferred rating gen, I guess!”

@graduatedpillowmonster: “For the wishlist I'd like to see a fic or fanart about our Frozen Bois being happy. I'd love to see something with a "found family" dynamic , with Crozier being an absolute dad to the Terror officers :D it can be canon or modern AU, any rating, just give me some happiness!”

@wildcard47: “I am dying for a Crozfitz romcom-style fic and/or moodboard to go along with it. They can have any occupation you want (is Francis a weird craftsman who James has to interview for work? Is James an ambitious sous chef while Francis is grumpy house manager of The Franklin? You decide!) Either way, give me those sweet B-list tropes. I'll also accept gossipy friend brunches on the side as these two idiots fall in love.”

@hangingfire: “either art or short fic based on this famous (within the fandom at least) passage from Fitzjames's letters: "Goodsir is catching the most extraordinary animals in a net, and is in ecstasies. Gore and Des Voeux are over the side, poking with nets and long poles, with cigars in their mouths, and Osmar laughing; he is really an original, and a delightfully dry fellow."”

@acutewinnipegosis: “Prompt: "The northern lights have seen strange sights".”

@berenswick: “I want to see a scenario where Silna interacts with Sophia and/or Lady Jane in some capacity.”

@glorioustidalwavedefendor: “You know that scene at the end of the Return of the King? The "You bow to no one" Scene? Something like that, but for our boys or just one of them would be awesome.” No preference as to format.

@henrylevesconte: “For the christmas exchange could I maybe get a gifset of henry le vesconte pls”

@amisssunbeam: My fic prompt: Crozier (BSI – before self-intervention) has a topdaddy/bottom relationship with a grateful and extremely compliant Jopson.  Somehow (as these things happen) Fitzjames finds out, and, surprise!, he wants Crozier as his super-kinky topdaddy too!  So both Fitzjames and Jopson get the daddy they need, and Crozier, much to his great pleasure, has the two most beautiful men on the expedition as his lovers!  It's possible that frocks are involved, or at least long nightshirts.” Requests an E rating.

@lafiametta: “It’s a long shot, as I know we don’t have a ton of video-makers in the fandom, but I would seriously die for a video set to Dido’s “My Lover’s Gone.” It’s a (heartbreaking) song about a man being lost at sea, so you could take it however you wanted, either focusing on all the men of the crew or maybe just on one or more of the canon/fanon pairings.”

@succession: “An gen fic centering on Tom Hartnell. Here's an idea, but you can do whatever you want: how did he cope with the loss of his brother so early into the expedition? Any rating, any length.”

@lonecrone: “Hickey/Gibson modern AU happy healthy relationship story! Dunno about the rating, use your discretion. <3”

@full-of-terrors: “Bridgens/Peglar having some alone time for sex, cuddling and having some book discussion pillow talk, can be during The Terror or a flashback, any media format.”

@kiraling88: “I'd like to propose some kind of Crozier and Jopson father-son moment :) I love them both so very much!”

[All wish list items have been claimed! Great work, Terror fandom!]

[foundcarcosa]

cccx.

What was the last thing you ate and why? >> It was hatch chile macaroni and cheese that came in, like... a takeout container looking thing. You put the whole thing in the microwave just like that and then eat it right out of the box. It was wild-lookin and I just had to try it. It was pretty good mac and cheese, all told (and as a rule I don’t like mac and cheese, so). What was the last thing you drank and why? >> Water. Because my lips were peeling and that always reminds me (or, guilts me) into drinking water. How many tabs do you have open and what are they? >> Six. The Hellblazer issue I’m currently on, the Doctor Strange: Sorcerer Supreme issue I’m currently on, this transcript for an interview that a follower tagged me in a week ago that I keep meaning to finish/reread but keep forgetting about, facebook, livejournal, and this tab. What browser do you prefer to use? >> Chrome. What’re five random things on your desk besides any computer-related items? >> A Vivec (Elder Scrolls) Funko Pop, my bracelets, a wind-up crab toy.

What room are you in right now? >> Mine. What color are the walls and floor in that room? >> White and some dun hue, respectively. What’re the items closest to you that’re red, orange, yellow, green, blue, purple, pink, white, gray, brown, black, silver and gold? Out of all the things you listed, which is your favorite? >> Oy vey. I’ll pass. What kind of chair are you sitting in? >> I’m on a futon. Don’t remind me. Where would you prefer to be right now? >> My standard answer is “New Orleans”. Right now, at least I’m in my own room. That’s more than I’ve ever had as an adult. Do you have any plans this weekend? >> The tulip thing at Holland (MI). Maybe I’ll get to check out the Pathfinder RPG group on Sunday, too. Are you excited for anything this month? >> Well, it is my birth month. What’s the date today? Is there anything special about today? >> 8 May 2018. Pillars of Eternity II: Deadfire dropped today, which is something I backed from the start and was very excited about for at least a year. I got to play a little of it this evening after eight million hiccups and... man. I am so happy I got to be a small part of that production. It’s so amazing. What a game series. Have you ever traveled outside of your home country? >> No. Can you speak, read and/or write in another language besides English? >> Bits and pieces here and there. What language course did you take in school, if any? >> Spanish, since my options were limited. What language would you most like to learn? >> German, as in... a decent command of it, not... whatever I’ve managed to put together from Duolingo and Memrise. But I just pick that because it’s the only one I’ve worked on learning at all in recent years; actually, any language would do. Languages are just fuckin cool. What grade are you in right now? >> I’m not. What was your dream job when you were a little kid? >> Hmm. Speaking of dreams, when was the last time you had a sleeping dream and what was it about? >> The last one I remember involved... a lot of things that I can’t properly convey in text because the imagery is all jumbled and disjointed. I think I was on a spaceship. Do you wake up a lot in the middle of the night? >> Not unless there’s noise. What genre of books do you like to read? >> I’m pretty flexible. It’s easier to name genres I don’t read: mystery, YA, Harlequin-esque romance. Do you prefer physical books or a Kindle, Nook or other e-reader? >> I like both for different reasons, and will use both (simultaneously -- I always have one e-book and one physical book going at a time). Did you ever sometimes flip through your textbooks even when you didn’t need to? >> I loved textbooks. I used to swipe them from classes that I didn’t take, just so I could read the material. What types of magazines do you read? >> New Scientist and Revolver are the ones I read the most. Well, not so much New Scientist anymore, since my subscription ran out. Have you ever ordered anything through a catalog? >> No. Would you prefer to read a book, watch a movie or TV show, or play a video game? >> I mean, I do all three on a regular basis... What are five of your favorite TV shows? >> Person of Interest, Grey’s Anatomy, Community, Hannibal, Carnivale. Do you prefer to watch movies at home or to go out to the theater? >> That depends on the movie. I love the theater experience but most movies I can stand to just watch at home where I can do what I want. So I save the theater experience for stuff like space epics and Marvel films. I think the next thing we’ll be seeing is Solo because I’m hype for that. Do you usually get popcorn or soda at the movie theater? >> No, because I usually can’t justify that expense. I don’t even like popcorn anyway. What genre of films do you like the best? >> Space, I guess. That’s not a genre but listen. Do you like movies based off of books? >> Sure, as a concept. I am often disappointed by the execution, but that won’t stop me. 

[aveaugvstus]

A HYMN TO APOLLO.

CROWN.  wreathed by golden laurel leaves but fear not,  those that scorn the vulgar displays of the bourgeois, ‘tis only malleable fool’s gold.  common metal elevated to opulence; it gleams  neverthless atop his head like a halo of sunlight.  

VENEER.  golden. golden. golden. a renaissance vision of seraphim backlit by paradise,  if michelangelo sculpted with gld ore rather than marble.  gilded as if he'd been dipped in it, inlaid like a beloved iconography, his skin shimmers otherworldly—apollo descended from olympus to revel and carouse with mere mortals. 

GUISE.  a billowing crimson cape secured at his throat by his family’s iron sigil. for propriety’s sake, if not his own sense of decency the nondescript shirt and black breeches of his uniform serve as a stand-in for genuine modesty.  if the shirt, already unbuttoned to his throat, has a tendency throughout the night to lose more, then who would be the wiser?

HELIOS.   tonight he is the sun incarnate, a blaze of burning day illuminating the dark. 

[aveaugvstus]

JULY 4TH 1845, 9:47PM. THE THEATRE. closed for @swvnsong​

carnivale is a night none of them will soon forget; the commander has made sure of it. even without the masquerade of costumes and the abundance of entertainment, godhavn itself is a sight to behold. a memory to keep them warm in the coldest nights of the arctic. perhaps it’s the third stein of liquor stoking embers in the pit of his stomach, but he feels strangely sentimental. it isn’t halfway over yet and already he can envision the events of the evening playing out in his mind: the earthy taste of roasted caribou and the burn of danish moonshine, the caterwhauling of tone-deaf seamen that could be heard across the baltic sea, the laughter and amusement of the games, the maze, the contest to be crowned sovereign. 

tonight, they are not navy or royal guard or passenger. they are simply fantastical guests invited to this splendid evening of carousing and revelry. amidst guests dressed as creatures of fairytale and myth, there's one that enchants with a spotlight entirely of her own making. a smile dawns swift on his face before he has even begun to make his way towards her. 

a vision in crimson, lit up like a flame ablaze in the dark. miss rosalind swan, once the beloved darling of the royal opera and every stage in europe; how she must feel having her most preeminent of operas butchered with such disregard for the audience’s sanity, he can only imagine. playful smile already waiting in the wings, he leans in slightly as if to whisper an aside.  “even if there was a shred of genuine talent to be found amongst these brave souls, no one could ever be half as dazzling as you were.”

august is a tried and true hand at indulging egos but he speaks plainly now with the guilelessness of honesty. “speaking of performances, i have a small surprise. for old time’s sake.”  clasped behind his back, his hands are shielding something slight and secret from her view.  “but you must close your eyes.”

[aveaugvstus]

JULY 4TH 1845, 11:01PM. THE CLAIRVOYANT’S TENT. CLOSED FOR @paintedsins​

augustus is by no means a superstitious man. ghosts, demons, otherworldly paranormal forces—it isn’t a question of credulity or belief but the gnawing undercurrent of doubt. who is to say that a spectre isn’t real simply because it isn’t intangible? how you can disprove something that cannot be seen, touched, or heard? it takes blind faith to believe in the existence in god; surely a being with only a hair of the almighty’s power warrants more than a moment of indecision.

his inability to exist wholly at rest heightens with apprehension. he fidgets anxiously at everything and anything within reach: running a hand through what he can reach of his hair undisturbed, sipping at his half-full drink, worrying at the edge of the tablecloth, taking another sip only to realise he hasn’t swallowed the last one. his eyes flicker to the medium and then abruptly flicker away, fixating upon the items laid out on his table as if they’ll reveal the answers to all his unspoken questions. if one didn’t know any better, they might mistake the symptoms of uneasiness for fear. 

augustus sutherland is never afraid. augustus sutherland does not even know fear. he’s certainly not afraid of some heretofore apparition yet to manifest as real. 

“so, uh, how do we begin?”  he purses his lips with a twitch, eyes wide and distinctly enraptured in spite of the nerves.  “i’ve never...”  here, his voice decrescendos into a hush, as if speaking the very words aloud might give them undue power before they’ve even begin.  “— i’ve never summoned a ghost before.”

[aveaugvstus]

MIDNIGHT ON THE SHORE OF THE BEACH WITH @captdowling.

he carves out this moment from the quiet with a focused precision: from the sky strung with infinite stars and the distant creaking and rustling of ships moored to the fishermans’ docks, the sound of the sea and its perpetual whispering as it rolls up onto the sand with mouthfuls of flotsam and sea glass smoothed by millennia. after all the revelry and debauchery, the extravagant indulgence of local liquors and flasked moonshine, his body is all but ready to slip beneath the waves of sleep. his heart feels strangled — by the enormity of this evening and what has transpired, but also by the knowledge that the sight before him is the last trace of civilisation he will have before they venture forth into unchartered waters.

moments away from surrendering to the urge of sleep, he hears it. the screams erupting from the colourful tents of carnivale. when he turns back, every single light has been extinguished. the torches snuffed out. if it were possible to feel any colder lingering by the shore of godhavn, his blood would be ice.  

his first thought is to surge into the fray, charge back into the shadows and uncover what has happened, but as he steps slowly to face the sea again, something moves in the swathe of endless black. as if a part of the darkness has separated from the horizon, it towers into the sky like a column made of smoke and fog — shapeless, intangible — and then dissipates into nothing before his mind can think to quantify it. he hears his name from further up the beach but finds his body rooted to the sand, his mind humming, half-sketched outlines of the shadow and the way it had moved. an obelisk. a monument. and then gone, just like that.

when the voice draws closer, a familiar sharpness to the deep rumble of command, he has to force himelf to tear his eyes away from the absence of where it had been.  “captain.”  he snaps into salute, muscle memory born of conditioning.  “i heard screams, the torches are gone out, and — and all these people.”  august blinks, suddenly aware of the crowd gathered behind the captain in varying states of distress. the fear in their eyes, however, is the same, singular echo.  “what happened?”

[aveaugvstus]

NEAR MIDNIGHT. WITH @arcticdoctor​ AT THE TOPSY-TURVY SOVEREIGN.

the world is upside-down and all the stage is asunder — or, perhaps he is and the ground is suspiciously close to his face. there’s a faint, faraway pain aching on his arm and quite possibly red where there shouldn’t be, but then, his cape is also red. wine, too — skeins full of which he’d been enjoying with some lovely greenlandic ladies; this is not so strange. when he attempts to stagger upright, his body revolts with insubordination. an older gentleman, alarmed at the coup his limbs are staging against him, reaches out to steady him.  “unhand me, kind sir!”  he insists, waving the attempt away with a weak flourish of his wrist. he casts round in a half-circle, scouring for support and alights upon a familiar face with a triumphant bellow.  

“doctor! doctor, i am in need of rescuing! please, i beg you, reassure this man i am of sound mind and health. ‘tis nothing but a flesh wound, his concern is wasted and in fact,”  augustus pauses, trying to pin down the meandering tail of his thought that keeps darting out of reach. “in fact, i have never felt better. i think i could wrestle a polar bear.”

[aveaugvstus]

LATE EVENING. WITH @hattiechllds​ IN THE TENT OF WONDERS.

he is entirely too at home in the thick of chaos, careening past the silhouettes and harlequin crew with little to no regard for what lies ahead, behind, or to either side. the bartered contraband in his blood keeps him warm to the point of fever, heating him from within despite the cold of godhavn beginning to rise from sea to shore. a disgruntled pair of lovers, cosied up against a corner of the maze, fly apart as he barrels through them, a tempest of scarlet and sunlit gold. he spins on his heel to holler an apology, the momentum sending barrelling headlong into a poor, unwitting soul. at the last moment, his hands shoot out to snatch them out of gravity’s clutches and the war path of his precarious havoc. “miss childs!”  he cries, and promptly dissolves into a fit of breathless laughter.  

“is the evening not simply glorious? you must tell me you have been thoroughly enjoying all the games and delights carnivale has to offer.”  the curve of his grin is fever-bright, incandescent.  “i solemnly swear not to inform the admiralty you claimed this one evening of liberty for yourself.”

[aveaugvstus]

EARLY TWILIGHT.  after the crew has returned to the ship and all manner of spectres and terrors have been laid to rest till morning  —  for @paenumbra​, based on the meme:

No one can convince me that optimism or confidence is warm enough.

the hour is late: shadow waning into the pale grey of first light. even the colour of dawn here is different; ammonite and chiaroscuro, an artist’s rendition of purgatory with no discernible horizon between sea and sky, heaven and hell. even if the evening had not descended from the highest crests of euphoria and glorious debauchery to unfathomable horror, sleep would have evaded him like any hope of heat in the arctic. his breath recoils before him, condensation turning spirals loose into the air with every exhale.

consequence has yet to manifest in damning bottle-ache or penitence. augustus is adrift — the uncanny sensation of being unmoored, at once within and without his body, perched from crow’s nest view looking down below at the body and mind that used to hold him. the eyes that saw, beyond negligible doubt, the sea beneath the ship still and draw quiet. it has always been no man’s land out here, but until he had borne witness, spine solidifed to ice and his breath dead on his tongue, he had not understood what that truly meant. 

his cape, a swathe of blood-red in the dark, tightens around him as he turns to the voice. he chances a weak smile, face sallowa and the specks of gilt glitter yet clinging to his face shimmering like fool’s gold.

“alas, we must forge onwards with our misplaced optimism and conviction.”  is he trying to convince himself, or his fellow sailor? perhaps whatever shadows and god-forsaken revenants care to listen?  “we would not stand a chance of making it another thirty days, let alone three hundred, if we abandon our sanity so soon.”