#write 28 days

[mmwm]

WRITE 28 DAYS: DREAM POEMS - Day 28

Part of my Feb 2024 Dream Poems project. I started with a poem I wrote in 2015, titled Shadow of Spring, and I almost completely rewrote it today, and retitled it. Vernal Equinox In the first place,dates aren’t solid.A calendar can take you onlyso far. A map as well.There’s data and there’s your life lived,a certain green or mud or birdsong that awakens, life and lush seeping,rasping like a…

[comraderoscoes]

kisses from's dad's

[serickswrites]

Whip It

Part 2

Warnings: restraints, blood, whipping, exposure, hypothermia, unconsciousness

Whumper frowned as they walked out into the courtyard. They fully expected Whumpee to have woken by now. Whumpee remained slumped over at the whipping post, their arms pulled tight by the chains keeping them attached to the post. The deep bloody wounds on their back had begun to scab over.

Whumper had left them unconscious in the courtyard hours ago. It was no fun to whip someone once they were unconscious. They stared at Whumpee's closed eyes and blue tinged lips. Whumper shivered in the cold. It was colder than it had been when they had whipped Whumpee into unconsciousness several hours ago.

They stared down at Whumpee and toed their leg. "Wake up," they said gruffly.

Whumpee's eyes remained closed. Whumper kicked them harder. "Wake up." Whumpee didn't stir.

With a growl, Whumper fished for the keys for the cuffs in their pocket. "I'm only going to do this once. Just this once. I don't want you dying before I get my pound of flesh from your hide," they said as they uncuffed Whumpee. Whumpee slumped all the way forward, body completely limp. Whumper grabbed one of their arms and began to drag them towards the house. "Who knows, there could be more fun we can have in the house, too."

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@pepeniascat @artisticdemon

[regency-monster-love]

Monstertober day 28. Greek mythology

Male centaur x female human | Regency era | SFW, banter

“This cannot be appropriate, sir,” she told him from where she was stiffly perched atop his back.

The centaur snorted. “Would you rather I had left you in that ditch with a broken ankle?”

“It’s only sprained.”

“It’s broken,” he insisted. “Regardless, would you have rather stayed behind in the mud?”

She sighed. “No, but…” She knew centaurs only wore clothing on the human part of their bodies, that this was natural, yet it still felt rather scandalous to be sitting upon his bare back. Not to mention the fact that he was a stranger to her, and they were unchaperoned.

“A surgeon needs to see your leg as soon as possible, to set the bone. I will take you to my home and send someone to notify the surgeon while you rest, while I go back to assist that fool that overturned your phaeton.”

Her color rose in anger. “That man is no fool; he is my brother!”

The centaur turned his head to the side so she could see his smirk. “He’s both, then. I hope it’s not a familial trait. I would hate to be carrying a fool upon my back.”

The woman gave an offended gasp, and the centaur had the audacity to laugh!

“Let’s see if she’s a fool,” he mused, as if to himself. “Will she hold on when I run?”

That was all the warning she received before the centaur took off into a canter. She shrieked and pitched forward, throwing her arms around his neck to keep herself from falling. Although she was an accomplished horse-woman, she’d never ridden one without a saddle.

“As much as I enjoy the feeling of you against my back,” the centaur said in a strangled voice, “your arms are making it quite difficult to breathe.”

“Oh!” She blushed furiously and unwrapped her arms from his neck to grasp his shoulders instead, leaning back enough to bring her chest out of contact with his human back.

“I am not sure whether I like this better or not, actually,” he said.

She glared at the back of his head. “Why must you run, anyway?”

“As I said, you need your leg set as soon as possible.” He turned his head to flash a broad smile at her. “And perhaps I enjoy feeling you holding me.”

She made an offended noise once again. “Keep speaking like that to me and I will have to choke your breath away again.”

But he merely laughed at her threat.

“Do as you please with me, madam.” He glanced back at her once more, wearing a roguish smile. “I would by no means prevent any pleasure of yours.”

~ 😈🎩 ~

I adapted Mr. Darcy's rather sarcastic yet innocent line of "I would by no means suspend any pleasure of yours" into something a bit more suggestive...

I decided to do a centaur for the Greek mythology prompt, since there is a sad lack of Regency-era centaurs in art and fics.

Read all of my Regency monster ficlets and snippets at the tag “my writing.”

[sunnynwanda]

Hero groans, peeling their eyes open. The world is upside down and swaying, red lights flashing around them. They try to take a deep breath, but their ribcage hurts like a bitch, ripping a strangled moan from their dry lips. Pain pulses through every little nerve in their body, the damp air making their nostrils flare and toes curl.

Hero grits their teeth, taking several shallow breaths to calm themself and focus. They try to turn around, but the chains around their middle forbid the movement, their back flush against something. Or someone.

Villain.

They finally register that they're chained back to back and hanging upside down. This could only mean one thing - they know. And whoever they are doesn't matter because Hero and Villain are screwed regardless. They got caught, and judging by the fact that Villain is chained up too - this won't end well. Before they can think of any way out, a choked whimper tears from Villain's throat, making Hero's entire body shudder.

"Shh, you're okay," they try to sound as confident as possible even though they cannot see what state Villain is in. Something tells them it's for the better that they can't. "You're okay. I'm here."

"How is that any better?" Villain croaks out, struggling against the restraints. Hero stills, gulping thickly. They need to think of a solution, and they need it now.

"At least you're not alone?" Hero suggests in an attempt to sound lighthearted - all the while searching for ways to get out before Villain starts losing it.

"I'd much rather have you come to save me, not be trapped here with me," Villain comments in a deadpan voice. Hero chuckles, leaning their head back against Villain's shoulder.

"Too bad I cannot breathe without you right by my side then," they smile, keeping their voice soft despite the physically straining position. Their head is threatening to explode, pulse pounding against their temples.

"Not the time, Hero," Villain would glare at them given a chance. Or yell at the gods above and curse fate for creating Hero the way they are and having them fall for the worst option possible. The worst option being Villain.

"It's always the time to be romantic," Hero counters, trying to diffuse the tension. They search for Villain's hand and interlock their fingers, squeezing them for grounding.

"All I see is red lights..." Villain groans, a rumbling sound flooding their hearing. They can feel the vibration in their bones, the power surging in their chest, blocking their throat.

"Vil, close your eyes," Hero says, their demeanour shifting to pure urgency - they need to move fast. "You hear me?"

Villain obliges, closing their eyes to dissociate from the flashing lights, the colour evoking the primal rage within them. They don't want to let it flow, especially not with Hero nearby.

"Who is it?" Hero asks in a doomed attempt at distraction. "Your agency or mine?" They press back, hoping that the full-body contact will tame the beast that is their secret lover. Well, it's not so hidden anymore, it seems.

"Both," they can sense the difference in Villain's voice, their tone having gone from concerned to eerily serene. "I... need you to hold me back," Villain mutters under their breath. "They won't survive me."

"I know, baby," Hero finally manages to free a hand, now working faster, frantic in the face of the impending catastrophe. "Give me a second. I'll get you out..."

"I'm losing..." Villain pleads, their eyes filling with tears until they drip over their cheeks, leaving watery trails behind.

"No, no," Hero protests, lifting themself up to loosen the chains around their ankles. Their body drops to the ground with a loud thud, the fall rattling their broken - and most likely dislocated - ribs. They spring to their feet, glancing around for means to free Villain. "I'm here.. Come on, we gotta get out of here."

Hero gently lowers them to the ground before lifting them to their feet and draping Villain's arm over their shoulders. Just as they are about to escape, the door swings open, allowing a group of both their former teammates to flood the place.

Villain's eyes widen in pure terror - except it's not fear for their life. Oh, no. It's fear of the damage they can inflict. The harm they can do once they...

Too late.

"I've already lost control," Villain mutters, their lips shaking uncontrollably. They try to pull away when Hero's hand wraps around their neck, forcing them to meet their gaze. But this time around, Hero doesn't try to hold them back. They don't try to stop or control the vicious force lurking beneath the surface. Instead, they caress Villain's face in a tender gesture before whispering with a tinge of twisted pleasure. "Wreck them."

Masterlist

A/N: Hi loves!

Today's my birthday so I figured I should do something for my favourite bunch xD Consider this an appreciation story because I am extremely thankful for this community in general and our little bubble that we've established here 🙏

Thank you for spending your time on something that means so much to me. Thank you for the love and support you offer me every day. Simply thank you.

Love you 💛☀️

xo Sunny

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy@alltimelowing@lateuplight@surplus-of-sarcasm@betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpifi @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

@m4iloblu3 @silky-worm @doctorsawyer @philosophershroom

[whumpshots]

Whumptober #28

Trope of the day: denial

_

Whumpee stares out of the window. The night soothes them, everything is quiet and peaceful. Holding their pillow to their chest, they listen to their own breathing, sometimes hitched or fast. Some sobs can be heard as well.

They don’t even realise that Caretaker is with them, only when the other sits down next to them does their brain register the other. But Whumpee doesn’t look at them. They will start the same topic … over and over again.

But Whumpee is fine.

“There is nothing to talk about.” They don’t even realise that they just said something, but they meant it.

“Whumpee … you can’t keep ignoring what happened. You have to talk about-“

“About what?”, they interrupt, still not looking at Caretaker. “Nothing happened that needs talking. Nothing.” If they say it often enough, maybe it will be true one day.

Whumpee is not ready. They are not ready yet, they cannot grasp what happened, so they try and ignore it. Denying that it even happened.

Caretaker stays with them, even when the grip around the pillow gets more forceful. Even when the first tears roll down their chin.

[chokopoppo]

Fandom: Band of Brothers (TV 2001) Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: Lynn "Buck" Compton/Donald Malarkey Additional Tags: Post-War, Character Study, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Substance Abuse, Sharing a Bed, Compulsory Heterosexuality

So, they move to New York.

At the time, it feels much more complicated than that. At the time, they spend dinner talking about what it really means to move, to live together, and how long the train ride is, and how light you have to pack. And the expense, and what it costs to get an apartment, and to furnish an apartment, since you can’t take your furniture with you.

At the time, they don’t have the big picture, which is that the two of them, together, are no longer alone. They don’t understand, in 1947, that the complexity and the details that fit around this fact are semantics.

[gremlin-girly]

Flufftober Day 28

Title: (Un)Lucky Charm

Prompt: Lucky Charm

Pairing: Johnny Storm x gn!reader

Tags/Warnings: FLUFF, Johnny being a flirt, minor injury, alcohol consumption, gagging (mentioned), not beta read

Summary: Johnny has had nothing but bad luck recently whilst you have been the opposite.

word count: 927

Prev | Next | Masterlist

Johnny had always been a magnet for good luck. It was only a matter of time before his luck turned.

From the moment you joined as Reed's new PA, Johnny's charm on women plummented (much to Ben's amusement). It wasn't because he was head over heels for you, although he had tried to get in your pants, but somehow all of the embarrassing moments all lead back to you.

The first time, he was skiing. He'd tried to impress a gaggle of girls that had followed him up the mountain. You'd warned him not to do it but that made him want to do it all the more (being the show off that he is). That earned him a face plant into the snow and although the girls fussed him, there was an obvious feeling of embarrassment emanating from them that soured his mood for the rest of the trip.

Some of the other things were minor like when he'd ordered an ice cream after you at McDonald's only to be told the machine broke immediately after your McFlurry was made.

The worst was the charity event in September. You had been dressed to the nines, absolutely stunning, and Johnny was a mess.

His Gucci suit had shrunk to smithereens in some freak dry cleaning accident and he had to borrow one of Reed's suits, with longer legs and arms making Johnny looking like a child trying on his dad's clothes. His ride had been late, he'd stepped in a puddle soaking his shoes and by the time he finally managed to get through the door to the party, food had been served.

Wisps of smoke billowed from his head as he took the chair next to you, and you were biting back a smile as you cheerily asked, "What in the hell happened to you?"

He'd harumphed and sulked, feeling the opposite of how he usually felt. A feeling he didn't quite know the name of.

You, on the other hand, had had a magnificent evening. You were not only on time, but a little early and got to meet some famous faces at the event and even a few pictures. Your hair was perfect. Everything was perfect. And seeing Johnny sulking always put you in a slightly better mood, since it almost always tended to follow a stern "I told you so" from you.

When it came time for the dancing, that's when things went from bad to worse for Johnny. Deciding that he wouldn't be stuck sulking all night he attempt to flirt his way to some luck.

And he was getting it.

When he came over to the bar, grinning smugly over to you, you rolled your eyes.

"Two champagnes, please pal," Johnny said to the bartender, leaning into the bar and looming over at you. "This night is starting to look up."

"Mmhmm." You say nonchalantly. "That right?"

"Yup." He stands a little taller and brushes down his oversized suit jacket. "Misty thinks I'm cute."

You bite back a smile as he takes the two champagnes from the bartender and winks over at you. "Well, good luck. You need it."

"Heh," He scoffs. "I won't."

As he makes to leave, his foot catches the wider pant leg. You watch in horror as Johnny falls in slow motion flat on his face into the hard floor...with his pants around his ankles still clutching the - now empty - champagne glasses.

You don't know if you should laugh, but you try not to, as you kneel next to Johnny to ask if he's OK.

"Did Misty see?" He peeks a look at you, tears of pain streaming down his red face. Your hands are shaking from trying to contain your laughter.

"Uh, you mean the tall blonde you were talking to?"

He nods.

"Yeah, she saw." You shrug gently and offer him your hand. "Come on. Get up, Romeo."

Sighing, and with more steam emanating from him, he sits on his haunches. You take the empty glasses from him and ask the bartender for something stronger.

"It's gotta be you." He huffs. "You're a bad luck charm."

Now you do laugh. "You'd be my lucky charm. I've met more famous people tonight than in my life. And there was that time I got the last ice cream before the machine broke."

Johnny glowers at you before climbing to his feet, pulling his pants with him as he stood. The bartender sets two shots of tequila in front of you both. Johnny doesn't hesitate to down his whilst you eye the two shots, watching as Johnny's face contorts and he gags.

"It's good luck to get the worm," You grin, downing your shot.

"Like I said," he grumbles, wiping his tongue on the inside of Reed's suit jacket. "Bad luck charm."

"Oh please," You chuckle, giving him a faux-solemn look. "Maybe it's karma and not luck at all."

"Ha ha, of course you'd say that." Johnny huffs. "Does saving the world not count as good karma?"

"I think it's cancelled out by you being a prat."

Slowly, Johnny starts to grin over at you and shakes his head. "Damn it. You know what? Maybe you're right."

"That's the first time you've admitted it out loud," You step forward and take his hand, kissing him on the cheek sweetly before leading him out into the dancefloor. Johnny's blue eyes widen at you and his stomach flips strangely. "Hopefully that's transferred enough luck that you won't trip over your feet or loose your pants when we dance."

[skyward-floored]

Whumptober Day 27 - Voiceless, “I have no mouth and I must scream”

I feel like I’ve been mean to Wind a lot heh, I feel bad for the little guy. It’s better than the three arrows I put in his chest in that other fic! ...Maybe, anyway.

Warnings: redeads

Ao3 link

————————————————————

Wind was not happy.

He struggled and kicked, tried to squirm out of the bruising hold on his arms, went limp and tried to just give the two soldiers dragging him along some underground passageway as worse of a time as possible. They’d already taken his weapons and only held him tighter as he struggled, but Wind kept it up anyway.

One of the Yiga grumbled in annoyance as Wind kicked at his legs, and he felt a glint of satisfaction.

“Rotten kid, that attitude will die plenty quick where you’re going,” the other Yiga snapped, ignoring Wind’s attempts to bite him. “This cell was for the hero, but what better way to lure him there than to dump his little brother in it first?”

“You built a cell underneath the outskirts of a village? Wow, that’s normal well-adjusted behavior,” Wind huffed, and one Yiga sneered.

“We merely adapted it for our purposes. And you’re the perfect person to test it out.”

Wind finally managed to clamp his jaws down on one of the soldier’s hands, and he yelled, gloves not thick enough to really protect him. The other one snatched at Wind and put a dagger to his throat before he could press his attack, and Wind reluctantly released the hand, getting the message.

“Link’ll never fall for your stupid trap anyway,” Wind said with a glare, and the Yiga both chuckled.

“Oh yes he will. Have fun, kid.”

A door was opened, and Wind was tossed through without any sort of fanfare, stumbling as he landed. He whirled back around to the door, but it was already closed and firmly locked.

Wind scowled at it, then turned to look around his prison, mind already turning towards thoughts of escape. Who did these Yiga guys think they were, kidnapping him off the street? He was the Hero of Winds! How had they even gotten the drop on him?

Wind scowled again and kicked at the floor of the cell. At least he’d been walking around with Four and Wild. Surely one of them would notice he was missing soon. And if not, well, Wind was pretty good at getting out of tight spots if he did say so himself.

No problem.

Wind put his hands on his hips, looking around the dark cell. There was a single tiny torch hung up on the wall, too high for Wind to reach that lit up the skinny space. A stone wall stood at the far end of the cell, but the two sides were open bars, darkness yawning beyond them.

It... kinda made his skin crawl.

Wind crossed his arms, feeling cold all of a sudden, but he shrugged it off with a huff. He needed to figure out how to get out of here, creepy darkness or not. The deep shadows beyond the bars suggested a bigger area, so if he could just find a loose one, he’d be set. Maybe he could even climb up and grab the torch.

Wind walked over to a side, starting at one end and giving each bar a solid shake. They seemed pretty firmly in the ground, but Wind worked his way across anyway, hoping for a loose one. He got all the way through without a single loose bar, and sighed, crossing to the other side to try there instead.

He’d gotten about halfway when he heard something, creaky and quiet.

Wind froze, listening, and the hair on the back of his neck went up as he heard it again. That noise was familiar. He couldn’t place it, but he knew it was familiar.

And that it was bad news.

A low moan came from somewhere in the darkness, and Wind slowly began to back away, nerves all alight. If he could just see he wouldn’t be nearly as nervous. Maybe the darkness was just freaking him out, and he was imagining noises because of that?

A bloodcurdling scream rang out, and Wind’s eyes went huge as a familiar sensation wracked through him, deathly cold and terrifying.

Oh no, he thought in a panic, his feet frozen to the floor, body unable to turn away from the shambling footsteps he could hear. Oh no oh no oh—

A face appeared in the flickering light of the torch, decaying and horrible, eyes glowing. A rotten hand stretched forward and wrapped around the bars, and Wind stared at the Redead, trapped in its unnatural terror.

It didn’t look like his version of them, taller, with a few ragged clothes on its lanky body, but the feeling it left him with was the same, sheer, unnatural terror.

I’ve got to get away, maybe by the door I’ll be far enough it won’t be able to—

A different scream rang out, sending another jolt through Wind’s chest, and he watched in horror as another redead grasped at the bars, reaching out to him, trying to pull him close. Beady eyes stared at him, glowing and malicious with hunger, and Wind might have whimpered if he could move his mouth.

He fought the paralysis as much as he could, but the moment it started to wear off, one of them screamed again, leaving Wind with no escape. More screams joined the first two, and Wind choked on his breath as a whole group of redeads shambled out of the darkness. Screams came near constantly from their lips as they grabbed at the bars and reached through, trying to get at him.

They can’t get through, they can’t get through they can’t hurt you, it’s just to scare you, Wind thought frantically, heart drumming in his chest. They don’t want you to escape that’s why they put them there you’re okay you’re okay you’re okay.

The screams just kept coming, endless and piercing and shooting Wind’s heart through with inescapable terror. He couldn’t even move to cover his ears, and he felt a terrified scream build in his own throat.

But it wouldn’t come out. Wind could only keep standing there, immobilized, tears trailing silently down his cheeks.

It felt like his heart was being encased in ice, frost shooting through his veins with every scream and grazing touch. More screams joined the agonizing chorus from behind him, and the terror felt like it would crush him, repeatedly crashing over him like a freezing wave.

Hands grabbed at him, nails grazing his skin. Wind couldn’t move, the torrential screams hammering at him, cracking him, filling him up with so much terror his mind couldn’t focus on anything else.

His world narrowed down to screams and beady eyes, Wind drowning in terror, eyes darting around wildly, mind screaming every time a hand grazed him.

If he could move he’d be curled up on the ground, but all he could do was stand here and sob in his mind as a deathly cold hand finally closed around his wrist.

Then a different noise rang out over the screams.

It was garbled in Wind’s ears, some sort of talking he couldn’t make out over the redeads’ shrieks. But suddenly music poured into the cell, cheery and bright, and the screaming stopped.

All of it.

Wind’s ears still rang with them, and the terror still pressed over him like a wet blanket, but there was finally silence, and the hand trying to drag Wind closer to the bars had stopped in its efforts, the redead’s mouth stuck open with its teeth bared.

Wind would’ve sobbed if he could move, and he heard footsteps and talking, his ears still ringing too much to make out. Strong arms pulled the hand off his wrist and cradled him to a chest, shouted something at the other sets of footsteps. The song trilled again, bright and warm, and though Wind still couldn’t do much as twitch his pinky, some of his panic eased as he felt a steady heartbeat against where his ear rested.

The others were here.

There must have been a trip out, but Wind missed most of it, still trapped in the lingering screams he could hear in his mind. Tears trickled steadily down his cheeks, and past the unnaturally sharp fear was a flicker of annoyance at crying so much.

But the terror mostly blotted it out.

Sunshine finally fell onto his face, warm and soft, and whoever was holding Wind lowered themselves to a knee. A face looked down at him, and Wind saw Twilight, eyes fearful.

“Hey Wind, you alright?” he asked, and Wind could only stare at him, heart pounding, terror still clenching like a talon around him. “Wind?”

“Is he okay?” someone else asked, and Twilight leaned back, Time and Wild’s faces both coming into view next.

“He’s not responding,” Twilight replied, and Time leaned in, studying Wind’s face with a worried look.

“Wind, can you hear me?” Time asked, setting a hand on his chest.

I can hear you fine, I just can’t move! Wind wanted to scream, but his mouth was still frozen shut. The only thing that he was still able to do was cry, apparently.

Time gently wiped his tears away, and if Wind wasn’t still so terrified, he was sure he’d be embarrassed. “Do we know how long he was down there?”

“An hour, hour and a half? No more than two based on when we started looking,” a voice Wind placed as Wild added anxiously. Oh good, he avoided the trap. “Is that bad?”

“It’s a long time to be around an attacking redead, no less dozens of them like he was,” Time replied, gently tilting Wind’s head around as he looked at it. “Usually the song fixes things, I have no idea why he’s still frozen like this.”

“Prolonged exposure I’d guess,” Four’s voice added, and Twilight’s hand combed gently through his hair. “It might just take him longer to break out of it. He’s so cold...”

“I still can’t believe we lost sight of him like that,” Wild said quietly, and a different hand touched his shoulder. “I’m sorry, Wind.”

Oh Wild, it’s not your fault, Wind thought, trying to look the champion in the eye and convey the sentiment. I’d tell you so if I could.

Some more footsteps pounded against the grass suddenly, and the amount of voices around Wind doubled, more faces leaning over to look at him, worried questions floating over his head. The other Links had obviously joined the group, and Wind struggled even harder against the paralysis making him nothing but deadweight. But he remained as frozen as ever, a scream still stuck in his throat, ice around his heart.

“Give him space, I’m pretty sure he’s aware of what’s going on and you all are crowding him,” Warriors’ voice chided, and the majority of heads pulled back from his view. The captain’s face appeared in his line of sight, full of worry. “Wind? Can you move anything? Even just something small?”

Wind started at his feet and worked his way upward this time, trying to move anything he could. Fear still thrummed through him, his body on high alert, tears tracking down his cheeks, but he finally managed to twitch his eyelids a little.

“Hey, there we go,” Warriors said with relief in his eyes. “Can you do it again?”

Wind focused, managing another twitch, and almost did a full blink when he tried again. Warriors’ face was still worried, but he looked encouraged by even the tiny movement.

“Here, let me see if this helps some more,” Time said then, and Twilight shifted Wind around in his arms so his head was a little more upright.

Time pulled out his ocarina, purplish blue in the sunshine, and he played the trilling song again, the one Wind finally recognized as the song of passing. Time played it through a couple times, magic falling over Wind like a beam of sunlight. He was surprised the time of day itself didn’t change, but maybe Time was stopping it from doing that somehow.

Suddenly the magic loosened something inside him, the icy terror cracking, thawing a little. Some feeling swept back into his body, and the scream that had been stuck in Wind’s throat this whole time suddenly burst out, loud and terrified.

Time immediately stopped playing, and Wind began to tremble as feeling slowly spread to the rest of him, his scream ending in a hiccup. It felt amazing to finally give voice to the horrible coldness in him, and Wind barely noticed when a thumb brushed along his cheek.

“Wind?” Time asked quietly, and Wind breathed in a shaking breath, firmly blinking tears out of his eyes.

“Th-thank, tha-ank y-you,” he managed get out in a miserable-sounding whimper.

Sighs of relief went up around him, and Time gave Wind a smile, even with the way Wind was shaking and still unable to stop the tears from escaping his eyes.

“You’re welcome Sailor,” Time replied, and brushed a few more of his tears away.

Wind managed a shaky smile back, then relaxed into Twilight’s arms, more and more of the ice in his chest melting away into bright sunshine.

[loulou-land]

Day 28 of @118dailydrabble - "Ladder"

This one I like. Love Maddie and Tommy interacting, so much so, I initiallly wrote like 165 words and then had to really cut it down lol 🥲

Gen | Maddie and Tommy |

Tommy groaned–feeling the back of his head. “Damn it,” he muttered, dialing Maddie.

“Tommy, everything okay?” she asked, worriedly.

“I fell off the ladder hanging lights. Think I need a ride to the ER. Don’t tell Evan, please,” he added sheepishly.

Maddie sighed. “I’m on my way”

In the car, she shot him a glare. “Ladders? Alone? Really?”

“I’ve learned my lesson.” Tommy said, holding a rag to the back of his head. “I just wanted to surprise Evan with the lights.”

Her expression softened. “Sweet, but he’d rather have his husband alive.” She smirked. “Especially since parenthood’s in the cards soon.”

Tommy smiled. “We’ve been talking. Feels right”

“You’ll be amazing parents,” she said, squeezing his hand.

[mmwm]

WRITE 28 DAYS: DREAM POEMS - Day 27

Part of my Feb 2024 Dream Poems project. The FarawayIt’s afternoon but my morning mind won’t let gosilent in its way as it echoes the sea swells of nightthe rocking of a distant dark ocean, narcotic, unsettledlike my crashing mind, sea debris floating and flickering behind my crusted eyes, dream-dusted,like the birds outside this mizzled window, fallingand lifting, swirling and deliquescing, as…

[dmccountdown]

28 days left until the premiere of the DMC anime! Read Only Human by @ossidae-passeridae on AO3!

[serickswrites]

Not Making Sense

Warnings: sun exposure, hyperthermia, delirium, kidnapping

Team Leader kicked down the door to the back yard. They had pinpointed Teammate One's location to this house, but couldn't find Teammate One inside. Teammate One had to be outside. They wiped the sweat from their forehead, swearing at how hot it was outside and fearing what that meant for Teammate One.

Teammate One was slumped over in the chair they had been roped to, their chin to their chest. Team Leader could see their skin was red and burned from the sun. "Teammate One, say something!" Team Leader hurried forward. No doubt Teammate One was suffering from the sun exposure, they could only hope that Teammate One wasn't too hyperthermic.

"Get....out," Teammate One muttered as they gasped for breath.

"I'm here to help you, Teammate One. Let me help you."

"NNNNNoooooooo............'et..............out." Teammate One's brow furrowed with frustration.

Team Leader frowned. Teammate One was clearly delirious and needed help. "Teammate One, it's ok, I've got you. We'll get you some water. We'll get you to the hospital. You'll be ok."

"NOOOOOO!" Teammate One shouted. "NNNNNotttt......meeeee........"

"Teammate One, you're not making any sense. Here," Team Leader scooped Teammate One into their arms and hurried into the house. They carried Teammate One into the bathroom and placed them in the tub, turning on the shower as they went, "this should help."

Teammate One shuddered and sputtered, but their hazy gaze began to clear. "Team.....Leader?"

"It's ok, you're ok."

"Whumper--"

"We'll find them later, right now my priority is you." Team Leader looked around for some towels. They needed to get Teammate One to the hospital soon.

"Not....meeee....Wh-Whumperrrrr wwwwannnn'ddddd 'mallllllest-est-est-est TTTTTTe'atttteee," Teammate One said as they grabbed Team Leader's shirt and held tightly.

Team Leader's mouth went dry. "Where is Smallest Teammate?"

Teammate One blinked heavily. "Whumper."

Team Leader tried to breathe through their panic. They had thought that Whumper only wanted to hurt Teammate One. Had only wanted to go after one person. They cursed themself for being so dumb. This was all a ruse so they could distract Team Leader long enough to kidnap Smallest Teammate. And it had worked.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

@artisticdemon @acer-whumpstuff

[topsyturvy-turtely]

turtely's OTP challenge!

read day 28 "Falling For Love (a 221b)" on ao3!

(prompt: falling in love)

summary: Sherlock philosophises what 'falling in love' means to him.

T, 221w, Fluff and Angst. Sherlock Holmes Loves John Watson, Sherlock Holmes Thinking, Episode: s02e03 The Reichenbach Fall

or read it on tumblr!

TW: REICHENBACHFALL

it is mostly fluff but has a dark twist. i hate spoiling my stories, but trigger warnings like this are so so so important.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

I never understood what 'falling in love' was supposed to mean. The only person I ever truly loved was John Watson.

That’s the thing though, I have just loved John Watson. There wasn’t any sort of… falling… where would I fall from anyway? It is a ridiculous expression. There never was a harsh landing on the process of loving John.

If we must take use of metaphors, I would say that I always have loved John fatefully, steadily, like water. Like a lake, at times like the ocean even. Of course, sometimes the water is rough but most of the time it is… present. It is wide, it is deep, it is inviting, and yet frightening. The fascination and pull some people feel from the water – that’s what I feel for John.

The love I feel for Mrs. Hudson, for Lestrade, for Molly, for Mycroft even, that had been hard-earned. I wouldn’t admit it. Not with words. However my love for these people is unsteady. Sometimes I can’t stand any of them, like the water – the river – was too demanding, too winding.

When I stood up there, with Moriarty, him explaining his genius plan, pushing me into a quandary, I was forced to drown myself. But at least not drain all water.

By falling for love. Off the roof of Bart’s.

♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡♥︎♡

comment on ao3 :)

tag list! (tell me if you wanna be added or removed please 💚) @justanobsessedpan @helloliriels @catlock-holmes @fluffbyday-smutbynight @inevitably-johnlocked @hisfavouritejumper @rhasima @forfucksakejohn @ohlooktheresabee @turbulenttrouble @so-youre-unattached-like-me @totallysilvergirl @peanitbear @train-mossman @loki-lock @smulderscobie @timberva @grace-in-the-wilderness @chinike @jawnn-watson @whatnext2020 @escapingthereality @missdeliadili @kettykika78 @musingsofmyown @7-percent @speedymoviesbyscience @astudyin221b @francj15 @ladylindaaa @we-r-loonies @mxster-jocale @sherlockcorner @noahspector @our-stars-graveside @jobooksncoffee @baker-street-blog @macgyvershe @myladylyssa @battledress @a-victorian-girl @dreamerofthemeadow @oetkb12 @ohnoesnotagain @mutedsilence @jawnscoffee @raenchaosandcozyadashofmurder @lisbeth-kk @quickslvxrr @compact-and-beautiful @kabubsmagga @sunshineinyourmind

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

DAY 28 – Body control

“Don’t worry. Can you believe that the others were for torturing you? No, no. You’d complain, you’d struggle, you’d plan an escape, it wouldn’t do. I am for efficiency. You can resist as much as you want. All the better for me. The more you fight, the more I know how your body works, the more I know how I can tie you up. You can’t see my knots, neither will anyone. So, let me tell you how they’re getting tighter, tighter, tighter. You’re wrapped up from your toes to your hair. Every thing is connected to me. Let me show you. Wave. Bow your head. On your knees. Very good. What a nice puppet you are. We’ll train a little together, and when you’ll waltz in wherever your friends are, wherever your family is, they’ll see no difference.

They’ll all think you did it.”

*

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist

Whump/Horror Masterlist

[ohbo-ohno]

Kinktober Day 29 - Breathplay

Ghost x Soap - 2.3k (on ao3)

summary: Ghost gets rougher than Soap was ready for, but he finds he doesn't mind. (Johnny POV)

cw: choking someone until they pass out, somnophilia, dubcon because soap doesn't consent previously (but he's into it), light feminization, some degradation, use of the word "pup"

Johnny eyes roll back in his head when Ghost first nails his prostate, the sharp shock of unexpected pleasure sending him reeling. “Fu-fuuck,” he moans, drool falling from his lip.

“Yeah?” Ghost grunts from behind him, hands planted on Johnny’s hips as he angles his thrusts so they all hit Johnny’s prostate, sending the other man into a fit of moans and whines. “That the spot? That what feels good?”

Johnny scoffs as best he can with his mind being fucked from his body, face turned to the side on the sheets so he can catch sight of his Lt out of the corner of his eye. “Obv-obviously, c-cocky bastard.”

Ghost makes a sound that’s nearly a growl at that, ducking down to nip sharply at Johnny’s shoulder and forcing his back into a steeper arch. “Fucking brat. Can’t even speak without stuttering, but you still tryin’ to talk back?”

Soap wants to fight back, wants to push and push and push until Ghost gives him everything he’s got. The thrusts nailing that horribly sensitive spot inside of him leave him wanting to go soft, to lay limp for Ghost to make him feel good, but the parts of his brain that haven’t melted out of his ear yet whisper that he could make Ghost earn it.

So he tries to shove up, even with his arms shaking and moans spilling from his lips. “Some-someone has to d-do it,” he quips, trying to smirk and ending up with more of a half-drunk smile. “Need-need to keep you on your toes, o-old man.”

Ghost snarls at that, but Johnny spots the quick curve to his lips as he ducks lower to growl right in Soap’s ear. “Old man, huh? Doesn’t seem like you mind, moanin’ like a whore beneath me. My cock feel that good in your cunt?”

Johnny’s arms give out beneath him and he collapses back to the bed, eyes rolling back in his head. “Fuck, feels-feels so good.”

Ghost laughs above him, a sharp and mean sound. “I can fuckin’ tell, you’re clenched up so tight it’s like you never want me to pull out. That it Johnny? You want to keep me in your cunt for the rest of your life? Never gonna let me go, are you?”

“No-ooo.”

“Tha’s alright,” Ghost rumbles, giving Soap several slow, hard thrusts, pummeling his prostate like it’s a punching bag. “‘M not lettin’ you go either, Johnny. Gonna keep you in bed, just a perfect little cocksleeve for me.”

His plan of riling Ghost up feels so far out of reach with the pleasure drowning him, and he’s left unable to even try and goad Ghost further. Instead he shifts one hand below his body, grips his throbbing cock and gives himself a few rough strokes, biting a pillow to hide his moans.

“What’re you doin’?” Ghost asks, grinding himself deep inside of Johnny and running a hand up and down his spine. “No, no, stop that.” His voice is scolding, and he worms a hand between Johnny’s stomach and the bed to force him to stop jacking himself off.

“Very bad boy, Johnny,” he tsks in what’s probably feigned displeasure, the hand on Johnny’s back moving to grip him by the throat and tug him back. He goes easily, whining at the lack of stimulation as his dick is left bobbing in the air between his legs. He shifts on his knees, pushing back to try and get more of Ghost inside of him, get more of Ghost. “Tryin’ to get your pleasure from somewhere else? C’mon, isn’t my cock enough for you?”

Johnny chokes on a moan, shifting forward just enough to drop himself back down onto Ghost’s hips, trying to get a hand back on his cock. It’s batted away quickly, Ghost wrenching his hand to the small of his back.

“Gimme your other hand, c’mon.”

Johnny groans. “No, Ghost, please… need to get off, c’mon, just let me-”

“Hand, Johnny.”

He listens, puffing a frustrated breath through his teeth as he lets Ghost grip both hands behind his back, the other still collared around his throat. “C’mon, Lt,” he grunts, trying to fuck himself on Ghost’s cock. “Need it, need more.”

“More?” Ghost hums, using the hand around Johnny’s throat to hold him still while he pulls out and forces his way back in, starting a harsh but even pace to try and melt the last parts of Johnny’s brain. “Greedy boy. You’ll take what you’re given and you’ll thank me for it.”

Soap tries to nod, bucking his hips back to try and get more, always more. He can’t manage much but a few aborted thrusts in his position, and his knees spread a bit wider, sinking him a bit lower on the bed. 

Ghost’s hand flexes over his throat, a quick pressure, and Johnny can’t help but keen at the threat.

Simon’s hips pause at the sound, and Johnny can imagine him tilting his head a bit in that annoyingly attractive way he does - like a predator scenting blood. His fingers shift along the column of Johnny’s throat, finding a more secure hold, and gripping.

The noise that rips from Johnny’s throat is half-strangled and half-moan, the lack of airflow sending sparks straight from his brain to his dick. He can’t help but try to thrust into a hand that isn’t there, trying to find any extra stimulation as his eyes flutter shut.

“Like that?” Ghost rumbles, hips rolling slowly in long, deep strokes. “A hand ‘round your throat, cock in your guts? Want me to choke you a bit, Johnny?”

He tries to choke out a yes, can’t manage it with such little air.

“What’s that?” Ghost shakes Johnny’s head by the neck, his eyes trying to open before they shut again. “C’mon, answer me, pup. You like a hand around the throat when you’re gettin’ fucked?”

Johnny nods as much as he can, managing to eek out a noise that sounds like affirmation. It’s the best he can do, and judging by the rumbly laugh over his shoulder it’s enough.

“Alright then.” Ghost pulls his hand away, dropping until his hand wraps around the base of Johnny’s cock, then a little lower to cup his balls. He thrusts a little faster now, starting to really fuck into Soap again. “How about this - you want a hand on your little dick, or a hand around your throat?”

Johnny can hardly think with the dragging against his walls, the stretch in his hole. His mouth is dropped open, little noises forced from him every time Ghost bottoms out. “Please- please, wanna come, Ghost, need it.”

Ghost hooks his chin over Johnny’s shoulder, forcing his back to arch so he’s presenting himself for his fucking. He feels unbalanced, held up only by Simon’s hands, and with one on his cock instead of his neck his top half feels too unstable.

“Soundin’ like a broken record, Johnny. Here, I’ll make it easier for you. One -” his hand wraps securely around Johnny’s balls, massaging them just in time with his thrusts and dragging a long moan from him. “Or two?” He moves back up, wraps his hand back around Soap’s throat and squeezes. His breath is cut off immediately, no matter how much he fights to get a breath in. 

“So? Which one, Johnny?”

He’s given just enough air to breathe back in, eyes flashing open as his vision goes a little hazy. “Tw-Two!”

There’s a pleased rumble over his shoulder, a stroke of a thumb over his Adam’s apple. “Attaboy.”

Ghost doesn’t waste any time - he pushes Johnny forward with the hand at the small of his back, begins to thrust far more quickly, harshly enough that Soap can hear the slap of his balls against his ass, and squeezes his throat tight.

Again, his airflow is cut off immediately. There’s a flash of panic when he’s suddenly incapable of doing something so natural, a privilege taken away that he’d never really thought about. He goes limp almost instantly, leaning further into Ghost’s palm.

“There you go, good boy, Johnny,” Ghost rumbles, squeezing his wrists. He’s panting over Soap’s shoulders as he hammers his way inside the smaller man, each thrust forcing Johnny to try and suck a breath in. 

The suffocation only brings him closer and closer to the edge, his cock red and angry. He can feel it creeping up on him, every second he goes without air bringing him closer and closer to that peak, just out of reach. If he had enough breath to make a sound, he’d whine for more. 

He’s not sure how long it’s been when he starts to panic. His vision goes splotchy, chest tight and almost aching from a prolonged lack of air. Completely against his own will, he starts to thrash in Ghost’s grip.

Simon grunts over his shoulder, muscling him over a bit so that he’s bent in half, held up only by Ghost’s hand and forced to rest his entire weight there. Johnny nearly manages to get his wrists free, but his fight is dwindling quickly.

“Fucking take it,” he hears Ghost snarl, thrusts quickening. “Thought this was what you wanted, pup? Practically begged me to fuckin’ strangle you, so take it.”

He’s- fuck, he’s so close, right there, just on the edge of coming, but he’s not sure he’ll even be conscious to experience it. His vision is almost entirely gone, heart racing as his lungs spams inside his chest. A prickle of true panic grows at the back of his head, something screaming to fight.

But he can’t get free. No matter how much he tries to thrash, Ghost holds him securely and doesn’t slow his hips.

In the end, Soap loses consciousness.

His eyes roll back in his head at a particularly deep thrust, the head of Ghost’s cock nailing his prostate in an almost cruel way. Johnny’s out like a light, the pleasure, the fight, and lack of oxygen finally doing him in.

It’s minutes later when he comes to again, Ghost’s hips grinding against his, his body limp on the mattress.

He groans into the pillow a bit, trying to shift and flinching at the sensitivity of his soft cock against the sheets. He blinks slowly, distantly registering the walls of Ghost’s room when the larger man pulls out.

Soap whines at the feeling of being empty, his hole fluttering around nothing, and Ghost grunts, gives him a sharp tap to the ass.

“You just woke back up and you’re already whinin’ again.”

Soap makes a small, confused sound. “L.t.? Did’ya… did’ya knock me out?”

Ghost hums an affirmative, falling to the bed on his back and contentedly tucking his arms behind his bed. “Sure did. You seemed to like it - milked my cock like a proper whore as soon as you were down.”

Soap shivers at the callous words, winces at the way his cock twitches beneath him. “You kept fucking me?”

Ghost looks at him like he’s insane. “Course I did. You got off, didn’t you? What’ve you got to complain about?”

Johnny’s brows furrow a bit as he scoots closer. He’s glad when Ghost doesn’t shove him away or roll over, allowing Johnny to rest his front to Ghost’s ribs, leaning against him. 

He’s glad he got off. Simon’s fucked him before and left him hanging - sometimes for days on end - and it’s a misery Johnny is never eager to reexperience. But he can’t help but wish he was actually awake to feel his orgasm, instead of passed out and used as a limp body.

Ghost sighs, dropping his arm to lay over Johnny’s shoulders. “I don’t know why you’re pouting, Johnny. D’you rather I didn’t let you come?”

He’s quick to shake his head. “No! Course not, it’s just…”

“Just what? Spit it out, pup.”

He sighs, buries his face into Ghost’s armpit to hide as best he can. “Wanted to feel it, that’s all.”

There’s silence for a minute, then Ghost laughs, low and rumbly. “You wanted to be awake? That’s what this is about?”

Johnny nods, just barely holds back a whine. Ghost sighs, affectionate but aggrieved, and throws his other arm over Johnny, effectively trapping the younger man beneath him.

“Shoulda known. Greedy pup like you, never wanna miss out on anything do you?”

He shakes his head, doesn’t manage to hold back the whine. A hand strokes through his mohawk and he relaxes a little bit further.

“I don’t know what to tell you, Johnny,” Ghost sighs, adopting a fake-pitying tone. “You wanted me to choke you, I wasn’t gonna just give you a little scare. Thought you’d appreciate it, way your always begging for more.”

“I do!” Johnny’s quick to correct, tucking his legs between Ghost’s. “I liked it! I just… just wanted to feel myself get off, Sir, that’s all.”

Ghost hums, scratches over his scalp. “Alright, I understand. We’ll see whether or not you deserve it next time, okay, puppy?”

Johnny nods, tucking himself into Ghost as deep as he can, until he’s not sure where his skin ends and Simon’s begins. “Course.”

There’s a sharp tug to his ear, sudden and painful. Johnny can’t help but yelp, looking up at Ghost with wide eyes.

“You forgetting something, Johnny?” Ghost asks, unimpressed.

He racks his brain for any rules he could’ve forgotten, quickly sees his mistake. “Thank you, Sir.”

“For…?”

Johnny swallows, tears his eyes away from Ghost’s. “Thank you for letting me come, Sir. Even if I couldn’t feel it.”

He gets another little tug to his ear for that, but Ghost hums and lets him tuck himself away soon after. They fall asleep just like that, wrapped around each other, both of them warm and sated.