#the terror band au

[charliemack]

Purple

Somerset House Ch2

Thomas, devious seducer, has the members of Somerset House over for drinks. He has every intention of placing the idea of leaving their talent agency into their heads - if he can get them to stop whining and complaining long enough to get a word in edgewise. His plans are ruined by the appearance of an ambulance, bringing John's boyfriend Malcolm and also Ned, who has once again been taken out by one of the Teras' pranks.

Read it now on AO3!

[strange-birb]

Cough*

Jason’s design……

Next time I’m going to go ham with platforms on him like 👀

Not really a design I app for him. I feel like he’s not gonna go all out he’s just vibing idk. He set the makeup being the most prominent thing. His theme is dead boi

He does actually have the scars but I figure paint them all glowey and no one questions it?

He has fun being the zombie on stage and watching his family squirm when they see him in all the makeup lol

Blue lips cold skin wrecked fingernails

Bruce would have an attack 🤣

I don’t really know what to do with Jason’s designs and I’m open to any ideas fr

Official secret band AU!!!

Steph is drummer. Tim singer. Jason guitarist

I’m debating adding another but it won’t be batfam 🤷‍♀️

Tim.

Steph

ROY

CASS

[emoreooo]

oh, come on. everyone’s afraid of something.

[dykeredhood]

The Terror high school AU where the rowing crew’s 2 charter busses break down in the middle of nowhere on their way to a regatta

Thomas Jopson is referred to as TJ or just Teej

[dayurno]

when u were writing the kandreil band au did u have any artist you think they sounded like vocally or the type of genres they preferred?

YEAH i think i answered this before you can find it in the #band au tag but the monsters do mostly punk rock/pop covers because they are a garage band :) none of them bar aaron & nicky can sing for shit so really it’s just that that they have going on for them, but when they do original stuff it’s more often than not folk or blues, because that’s what andrew likes and he’s the only one actively writing for them. once neil gets the hang of it he’ll probably follow in andrew’s footsteps but pen some depressing ballads every now and then with kevin’s help

i did have an idea in my mind for kevin though! i think his voice could be like isaac dunbar’s at the point of canon in band au, which is like this raspy-ish deep tone i really like 🥹 when he was younger it was higher and smoother but puberty got his ass :) for the genres he prefers he would probably say None (liar) but i think he’d just be a general music fan. really he can enjoy anything if he thinks it’s well-performed and well-produced. i think kendrick’s damn released on the year band au begins so kevin would have tuned in to it, but otherwise his favorite song is before he cheats by carrie underwood which is why andrew can’t stand listening to it anymore if it comes on the radio

[hesbuckcompton-baby]

BAND OF BROTHERS TERROR AU. TELL ME. NOWWWW

OK!!!! I'm not going to put everything in here because I don't want this post to end up HUGE (EDIT: this post ended up massive anyway), so I'll talk about the main components and some stuff I like, and if people want me to go more in-depth and discuss other side characters I will.

Tagging people who commented on the original post in case y'all want to read @latibvles @fearlessjones

Herbert Sobel is the original captain of HMS Erebus - he is the Sir John Franklin figure, he's incompetent, and whilst many of his higher-ups know he is ultimately not suited to such an expedition, they let him lead anyway because they like him, and they hope he will finally get some glory amongst all his failure. However, perhaps his key flaw is his keen dislike for the captain of the HMS Terror, Richard Winters.

Ok, I KNOWWWW people are gonna think that Nixon would be a better fit for this role, because he arguably resembles Crozier much more, but WAIT. For those of you who haven't read the book, it is said that the HMS Erebus has absolutely NO alcohol in its stores because Franklin does not drink. If this is the case here too, and Lewis Nixon is stuck as Sobel's commander, this will send him insane over time. Nixon and Winters are very competent leaders, so for this AU to work I need to break them, and what better way than to weaken Nix from months of withdrawal at sea with Captain Fucking Sobel? Combine this with Winters refusal to indulge him with his own alcohol stores, and now there's a wedge driven between the two before they're even stranded.

But even so, Winters needs something that will impede his own leadership, and for him, I think that's his sense of responsibility for his men. Winters is always striving to find a solution that will cause the least amount of damage to his men - he wants them safe, and he doesn't care if they have to turn this ship around and head home to do it. But he can't. By the time they get stuck in the ice, there is no possible solution he can come up with that won't result in his men's suffering or even loss of life, and this leaves him jaded, wearing him down as the situation becomes even more dire and he has to watch more and more of his men killed by the cold, sickness, and the Tuunbaq. This will get to him, and it will impede his ability to think rationally.

Right, now for the Lieutenants. On HMS Terror, you have First Lieutenant Harry Welsh, Second Lieutenant Buck Compton, and Third Lieutenant Henry Jones. Whilst Welsh and Compton are very competent, much like their captain, Jones has risen through the ranks due to little more than wealth and connections. Whilst he could not purchase his commission, his family manage to pull the right strings, and now he's here with very little experience and absolutely NO respect from the men, already making way for the system of leadership to be undermined before things ever get serious.

On the HMS Erebus, Captain Sobel (And eventually Captain Nixon, once Sobel is killed) have First and Second Lieutenants Ronald Speirs and Carwood Lipton. These two are excellent in a crisis, and when the crew becomes despaired as Sobel's incompetency and Nixon's declining health as a result of his withdrawal, they are given the heavy burden of trying to raise morale and keep the men's trust as the situation grows ever more dire.

Chief Surgeon of the HMS Terror Eugene Roe has gotten a lotttt more than he bargained for with this expedition. Yes, he takes his job seriously, and yes, he came here to help people, but more than anything he just wanted to be a part of something real, to see the Passage with his own eyes and know he had helped to make a difference. But now his surgery is crammed with victims of the Tuunbaq and men displaying very unusual symptoms that he doesn't quite understand. He's losing sleep and he's losing hope, and he doesn't know quite how to cope with the knowledge that he isn't as good as he thought, and he truly cannot save these men.

Captain's Steward David Webster believes he's made for more than this. He's educated, no small feat when half the men on the Terror can scarcely even read, and he feels his skills are wasted running around after Captain Winters. But he comes from a high-ranking Naval family, and if he ever wants to make something of himself there's little option but to work his way through it unless he wants to be stuck doing this forever. As time passes, he begins to grow bitter at his position, which is why when Caulker Roy Cobb begins disparaging Winters' leadership, his words begin to make sense to Webster.

I've planned roles for all of the notable characters in BoB but I do not want to write a fucking novel on this post, so please let me know if you want to see more!

[asundering]

the popstar princess gets startled: Dead in her tracks. Like a deer caught in headlights. Her eyes go wide, a trembling hand holding onto the hem of her skirt. The other releases her purse as it falls with a soft 'thud' on the ground. Terrified she looks the other over a few times. Tears start welling up in her eyes. "S-SCARY DRUG DEALER!" She bellows out as she ducks down, arms covering her head. "PLEASE DON'T HURT ME MISTER CRIMINAL!!" @dolls-runeterran-dollhouse

Even without being drenched in running makeup, Kayn knew their visage could be intimidating to meeker people. Because that's exactly how they liked it. They didn't have time for anyone who couldn't handle something a little out of the ordinary, unafraid to stand out from the crowd. But scaring the populace while stomping around in their boots hadn't been a goal today, it hardly even crossed their mind as they finished their errands through the mall. Having gathered dinner and snack supplies for tonight's session, Kayn was badgering their bandmate with a flurry of annoying messages as the other shoppers were sure to keep out of their way. So when a body in their peripheral vision comes to a standstill, it draws their eyes up from their screen. And then her squealing halts their march entirely.

Her reaction to - what, just the sight of them? - is something to behold, brows raised and lips pulled into a grimace. But worst of all is her false declaration; they really don't need to be accused of being a dealer or a criminal. Did this happen to everyone she ran into with a bit of ink? Wearing some dark clothes? Kayn could have easily passed this dramatic scene with a roll of their eyes. But that incorrect nickname gets teeth grinding together, and threatens to ruin their good mood. With a daring step forward, Kayn leans over her, dark locks and leather framing their patronising response, "... Oh no, a cutesy, chronically online trend-chaser. Please don't record me! The hell's your problem?" Dropping the imitation with a biting conclusion, their posture straightens. Scowling down at the pathetic display, they cant their head and give her a final warning,

"Pick yourself up and piss off."

[rightintheghoulies]

I am the only person who secretly loves supernatural stories/ fantasies/ au's where you can bring back my fave peeps from the dead, help fix them or make them worse purely for self indulgence purposes?

Love me some controllable but heart wrentching angst, with the most trauma healing fluff/ aka therapy...

[daincrediblegg]

Truly devastating to want to jump into an AU for your canon x oc/si ship when you haven’t even scratched the surface of your main fic for them yet 😪

[boilyerheid]

For Those About To Rock: ch12

John's been buzzing all week - maybe even all month - about their three-night stop in New York.

It's not the sold-out shows that have him so excited, no - it's the prospect of seeing his best friend in the flesh for the first time since university. 

Perhaps it's the drink, but he thinks he's finally hit something of a personal breakthrough… or at least can see his way to one from here.

He may not have directions, but he can see most of the map now. And Malcolm is, as he always was in their youth, his guiding star.

DANCING IN THE DARK

[azidoazide-art]

doodle from the detective au (it's just an excuse to put them all in halfway formal clothes)

[charliemack]

POOR TASTE

Somerset House Ch5

Graham, Dundy, and George travel to Hepscoe Hall to have dinner with Graham's parents. If you think you know how bad it goes, you're wrong. By the end, the Teras have declared war Wherein we learn George Hodgson does not forgive, and he does not forget. CW for bullying targeted around food issues, and parents being horrible to their children. Should any of these things make you uncomfortable, this may be a chapter you want to skip.

Read it on A03

[psyduc]

the terror / julie and the phantoms au when

[kommandonuovidiavoli]

🧜‍♀️☠️🧜‍♀️☠️🧜‍♀️☠️

Three.. Sirens?

I love their designs so much I just had to!! These two would be good friends prey to The Weeping Siren!💙

These two belong to these amazing artists!

@kommandonuovidiavoli

@izzy-art-879

AU belongs to the silly moot @kandykatz 💙

[urhoneycombwitch]

my baby puts his mouth on me

foreword: okay this is kind of written as a bonus scene for i know what they call you bc that version of reader deals with being quiet, too! (not necessary to read that one first but does provide a bit of context as far as interpersonal setting.) sort-of AU that ignores most s4 events.

cw: discussions of college, shy!reader, oral + fingering (R receiving), R has breasts and a V, weed usage, softdom!Eddie, shifting POV a bit soz 

wc: 2.2k

___

Somewhere between Eddie’s late nights at band rehearsal and your early morning diner shifts, you’ve both been too exhausted to properly fuck when you do see each other, barely time for a spare handjob in the past week. You’re crawling out of your skin by the weekend, missing and craving Eddie in equal measure.

So when your Saturday off happens to line up with his, Eddie makes an afternoon of it- picnic lunch on the shore of Lover’s Lake, lazing around in the August sun while your food settles, then stripping down to your underclothes (even though the spot Eddie scored was totally isolated, you’re still leery about skinny dipping) and cooling off with a quick dip in the lake.

You’re both sprawled out in the blanketed back of Eddie’s van, sun-warmed bodies pressed together, legs dangling out of the open rear door; smoke hangs hazy in the air from the joint being shared. 

“Almost end of summer,” Eddie says, nestling his nose into your neck, arms wrapping around your middle. He can’t look at you, dread unfurling in his stomach but needing to ask, to clear the air, to prepare in case this is one of the last times he gets to touch you like this- “Thinkin’ of going to any colleges?”

”Maybe.” One of your hands slides into Eddie’s hair, scratching gently at his scalp while the other lifts the joint to your lips for a long drag. “They love me at the diner and I make good tips, so I’ll prob’ly keep doing that. Can’t afford anything fancy, anyways- I’ll likely just go to Hawkins Community.”

You still haven’t told him the full story of the mall fire, yet- or about the underground world simmering beneath the surface. He never pushes you to share more than you’re comfortable, which you’re grateful for, but he knows something happened: something that paints your sleep with dark night terrors, something that causes you to slip in the middle of conversations, mind spiraling where he can’t follow. 

For reasons you can’t fully explain to Eddie, college is real low on your priority list- you’ve dedicated this summer to reconnecting with base instincts (weed and Pretty Boy being at the top of the list).

Meanwhile, Eddie tries to still the vibrant thrum of his heart at the news of you staying local, possibly for the next few years; he lifts his head to press his lips against your collarbone. “You should go to college. Jus’ try it out, at least. You’re certainly smart enough.”

“Mmm-” you hum around the joint, another inhale-exhale of smoke before murmuring, “So are you. For the record. We could apply to be nerds together, if you want-”

With a sharp gasp, your sentence drops out of midair when Eddie kisses over your nipple, already peaking through the thin material of your bra. In his hair, your grip tightens, and Eddie groans.

In one fluid movement, he props himself into his elbows on either side of your torso, bottom half of his weight pinning you in place, plucking the smoldering joint from your grasp to dampen it into a nearby ashtray.

“Gonna be my little student,” Eddie says, wet kisses trailing down your neck, flash of teeth making you squirm. “Get you some academic… skirts. The ones with the pleats. Maybe some stockings…”

“You’re so- oh, fuck- dirty…” It’s hard to keep the admonishment in your voice as Eddie noses between your thighs, bumping at your clit through the thin cover of high-cut cotton.

“Mm-hmm.” He seems pleased with the already-visible wet patch, your core leaking steadily as he burrows deeper, until all his senses are blacked-out with nothing but the sharp tang of your honeyed arousal- who needs weed. He could get high off your smell alone.

Eddie suckles at your throbbing clit, purring encouragement low in his throat when your hips jolt forward. “And you love it.”

He’s one deep inhale from being completely pussy-drunk, mouthing sloppily at the junction where thigh meets pelvis, nimble fingers toying at the band of your underwear. He slides them down and off your legs, and you let him, wiggling in anticipation against the pressure he’s keeping you pinned with.

“Could take an electrician course.” Well aware of how close to the wire this conversation is sliding, you let the crown of your head tip back, staring at the van’s ceiling, handfuls of the flannel floor blanket squeezed into fists as you try getting one last word in- “You’re good with your h- hands.”

Said hand is cupping your bare sex, warm and wide between the V of your legs, other hand pushing your thigh back to spread you wide, obscene and on display how Eddie likes; embarrassment blooms hot in your chest as he runs a finger through your folds, slick practically loud against the far-off backdrop of forest sounds.

“What was that about my hands?” He’s teasing now, can hear it in his voice even though you can’t see the lazy grin it’s paired with; a long middle finger breaches your entrance, wet warmth swallowing the length greedily.

Your eyes flutter shut, sighing. There will be a time for arguments again but right now, with a second finger addition and Eddie’s mouth working you up, there’s no room for speech.

On your end, at least- Eddie’s proven on multiple occasions to be a master at multitasking, talking you through it while managing your pleasure, and this afternoon is no exception. His fingers curl expertly into the gummy front wall of your cunt, mouth running every second it’s not latched on to your pulsing button, dirty talk smooth and easy in his low timbre.

“Yeah, honey, that’s it. Fuck, you’re so hot. Can feel you squeezin’ around my fingers, y’so tight, angel, shit… like that- there you go…”

Etcetera. Until he’s bullied his way completely into the cradle of your legs, lying flat on his stomach to get as close as possible; until your cunt is spasming around the push and pull of his fingers, wet dripping and pooling into his palm and down your ass to the blanket below.

There’s a familiar tightness coiling in your stomach, thighs bracing around Eddie’s ears in anticipation of the unraveling. A pleasure-soaked sob gets caught in your throat, dull whine escaping instead through clenched teeth, grip on the flannel doubling until your knuckles creak in protest.

“Hey.” 

There’s a confusing lack of authority or command in Eddie’s voice; you sift through the brain fog of arousal, propping your weight up into your elbows to look down at him.

Eddie looks crazy. Debauched. Lips pink and spit-soaked, chin shimmering, pupils blown out with lust as he presses a chaste kiss to the wiry curls at your mound. “Kinda quiet up there. Everything okay?”

His thumb sweeps a comforting path up the soft skin of your thigh, the abrupt switch from animal to gentleness making your head swim. He’s still looking at you with those puppy-brown eyes, fingers still buried to the hilt but unmoving; you stammer out an excuse.

“Um- yeah. M’sorry. It’s just been awhile, since you’ve had me… like this.”

It’s the truth; over the last busy week in your lives, time has eroded some of what Eddie’s been working on building with you, bravery at making noise faded with the lessened practice time.

“No one else out here, ‘cept you and me, sweetheart.” Eddie’s coaxing his fingers back into steady rhythm, watching your face carefully for any signs of withholding. “Can make as much noise as you want. Lemme hear. Please?”

Usually, Eddie’s not so soft- a sharp crack of palm to ass, flesh jiggling as he draws all the noises he wants from you- but here, in the back of the van, heady weed and warm sun an intoxicating mixture as he asks you to melt for him. 

You obey. Let the floor take your upper body’s weight again as you fuck yourself on his fingers, hips lifted and seeking release. His mouth seals over your clit again, tip of his tongue lashing quick and precise against it, frizz of his curls tickling the insides of your legs as he shakes his head.

The weed is certainly a help as trapped noises heave from your chest, mouth falling open, lax and pliant with moans. “Oh, my god, Eddie. Fuck. Holy shit. Hah- right there, please, don’t stop-”

As if he would. Eddie moans in tandem with you, his own hips chasing the maddening pressure of the floorboards against the hard jut of his cock, leaking through the front of his boxers as he adds a third finger, spurred on by the fountain of breathy words this pulls from you-

“Oh god, oh god- f-fuck- Eddie, Eddie Eddie Eddie-”

Your speech devolves into a mindless, babbling chant of his name. That coil pulls taut, has you crunching forward in a half sit-up, hands fisting at the roots of Eddie’s hair to hold him in place (perhaps harsher than you intend but based on the way his hips stutter and grind, you can safely hazard a guess that he’s into it). 

The pattern breaks when he grazes his teeth against the pulsing nub in his mouth; you have just enough time to gasp out, “I- I’m coming, Eddie, shit, m’gonna come-” before the orgasm hits you full-force.

There isn’t room in your brain to hide all the noise that threatens to suffocate, so you let them all out, muscles tightening and flexing around every bright point of pleasure that he fucks you through. High-pitched whines, panting that wracks your lungs, a moan to top it all off that feels like it comes from your toes. 

“Jesus christ.” Eddie swipes the back of his hand over his mouth, sounding wrecked himself as he climbs back over your body, silver chain necklace and dark curls swinging in front of your blissed-out face. “Fuck, princess. That was so hot.”

“Yeah?” Bashfulness hasn’t fully settled in yet, you’re still loopy from the force of your pleasure, arms slipping over the boy’s freckled shoulders as he leans down to kiss you.

His tongue has a bright tang of you, as you lick into his mouth, one hand leaving his shoulder to trail down his chest. Dark ink whorls beneath your fingertips as you reach the scratchy trail of hair just before his boxers-

“Shit.” Eddie hisses, forehead thunking into yours when you palm the hard length of him, precum soaking through the fabric, softness of your palm contrasting with the damp and rough drag of cotton. His long lashes tickle your cheek, eyes fluttering closed, soft exhale magnified by close proximity as he slowly pushes into your hand. 

You’re mildly surprised he hasn’t come, yet- usually Eddie gets off on getting you off, then uses the rest of his energy to make you both come again, together. 

What Eddie hasn’t told you yet is that he’s done some prep of his own, this week: every night you haven’t spent in his bed, his own spit-slicked fist has taken him right to the edge, stopping just short of coming with a choking grip at the base. The idea was to build up his stamina a bit, to take advantage of lonely evenings in service to a future you.

A very noble cause that is quickly being forgotten as your hand moves with more intent and pressure against his aching cock- the drug haze is almost enough to have him completely at your mercy, to tuck his nose into the curve of your neck and find sweet release by way of your pretty palm.

But he recovers. Get just enough distance from the warmth of you to clear his mind and snake his own hand down between your bodies to capture your twisting wrist. 

The protest dies on your lips when Eddie brings your hand to his mouth, sucking your middle and index finger against the pad of his tongue, saturating your digits in spit.

“Here’s what you’re gonna do.” His eyes stay locked on yours, even as he guides your newly-wet fingers back down your bodies to rest atop your cunt. “You’re gonna touch yourself until you come. Again. And if I feel like you’re holding out on me with your noises, I’m gonna make it real difficult for you to make any noise. At all.”

A thrilling shiver races up your spine, goosebumps prickling in response to the shift in Eddie’s tone. His eyes flick to your lower lip, which he bites, unable to help himself, before following the path of your hand south.

There will be time for unwinding the past, for dreaming about the future. For now, there’s a boy between your legs and the feverish glow of summer calling your name. 

[studsandswords]

to anyone trying to get into crust, here are a list of crust/dbeat/anarcho punk bands that i personally like or know of and are a great intro into the genre

>Crass

>Conflict

>Dirt

>Discharge

>Electro Hippies

>Amebix

>Anti Cimex

>Attestor

>Aus Rotten

>Avskum

>Bootlicker

>Capitalist casualties

>Cursed

>Deviated instinct

>Disatack

>Disgust

>Disrupt

>Doom

>Dystopia

>Extreme noise terror

>Hong Kong Fuck You

>Mob 47

>Nausea

>Physique

>The Shitlickers

>Sore Throat

>THE STALIN

>Subhumans

>The wankys

>Zyanose

>Disclose

>Gause

>GISM

>D-clone

>Battle of disarm

>Gloom

>The Swankys

>LIFE

>Confuse