#keyofmgy

Honestly, I’ve loved so much of the transformative works created by this fandom, from @zehstern’s astonishingly clever (and side-splittingly funny) videos, to the beautiful art by @iceboundterror, @bacchanalium, and @alessiapelonzi, @sufayr, and @goodsir-is-such-a-good-boy (I’m particularly partial to their Little and Jopson pieces!), to all of the mind-blowingly amazing Terror fanfic, three of which I just want to single out for a special mention. (Of course, many more wonderful stories could be listed here, and I definitely don’t want to leave out any of the incredibly talented writers in this fandom, but these are three that I just really adore, and continue to go back to again and again.)

“All That’s Left to Chart” by @keyofmgy (Goodsir/Silna)

He couldn’t help it; he opened his eyes and, after a beat of hesitation, looked carefully to his right. There was nothing untoward to be seen now that she was covered by the fur blanket, of course. And no eyes to meet, either – she was tucking her face against his shoulder. Another point of human touch to go alongside her hand, just as she given him mere minutes ago, but meant to last longer this time. This time was no less innocent in intent than last time, only much more intimate. Embarrassingly, reassuringly intimate. Comfort, regard, and trust: freely given, expecting nothing in return.

You are safe here, he imagined her saying – could all but actually hear her saying, in the touch of her hand and the stir of her breath on his skin. You are not alone. You need not be afraid any longer.

I was never afraid, he would reply. Not for myself. I was afraid for you.

Don’t be afraid for me, Harry Goodsir. Now he was indulging in flights of fancy again. Rest. Go to sleep.

“Pastoral Pursuits and Pleasures” by @succession​ (Hickey/Irving)

The sky flamed orange, the sun arching as it began its descent to the horizon. Around this time they'd scatter to fetch lanterns to light their evening. To stand now meant the thread would be stitched into place then armor-plated. Once again John alone sharing, presenting Cornelius with more and more pieces of him.

Neither man moved but still, they felt a shift towards a precipice.

“If you did, yes. Friendship is opening the self to another, secure in the knowledge he will not be judged. You've given me much, but please know I am here for you.” The fist squeezed then relaxed only for his short fingers to curl once more, looser.

“Won't be judged. I am a phantom.” A sudden burst of empty laughter, a sardonic sound displeasing John. He grew used to the small openings between Cornelius's moods, he able to slip through them. All he needed to do was extend a bit of humor or praise, a quick gesture enough to right him. Sarcasm firmly bolted the openings shut. Anything he'd say would deflect and clatter to the floor like a stone. He did not want to be reached, but John channeled his attention like a terrier nose deep in a hole primed to flush out his quarry.

“How could I befriend a man that never was?”

“To Warm the World” by @arcticelves (Jopson/Little)

“That shivering should ease soon, sir.” Jopson spoke for his own benefit, not for Little’s: he’d have recited the alphabet forwards and backwards if it would have distracted him. But nothing could. Now that he was where he was – and acutely aware of it – his mind began to take stock of everything he could feel, every point where his body pressed against the lieutenant’s. The firm swell of Little’s right bicep cupped beneath his left palm; the end of the lieutenant’s clavicle protruding from his skin near the spot where Jopson’s chin rested. He could feel the hair of Little’s chest tickling against one of his nipples, and every shudder of the lieutenant’s muscles echoed through his own body, producing fresh bursts of heat. Each breath he took was full of Little’s scent, of wool and soap and sweat, and he had only to open his lips a little, extend his tongue, and he would know – finally – how the lieutenant tasted.

Stop. Stop this.

“Feeling any warmer?” Jopson murmured, not trusting himself to open his mouth more than was absolutely necessary to form the words.

WATCH LITTLE DORRIT SEBASTIAN PLAYS SPARKLER IN IT HE WILL ALWAYS BE SPARKLER TO ME

OMG YES, I’VE SEEN PICS OF HIM IN THAT AND HE LOOKS SO CUTE

look Paul Ready’s voice is a GIFT though