#31 Days of Writing

[goddessserephina]

31 Percy Jackson Writing Prompts Part 3

Another prompt list for the Percy Jackson lovers! I do also make normal prompt lists but they aren't my current obsession. Also, I wanted to remind everybody that you can do these prompts in any order you would like, and you can even replace certain ones if you have a better idea!

"Come on. You're my only option."

New Rome University

"Leave me alone. We broke up."

"It wasn't supposed to happen like this."

Fancy Dinner

Wedding

Veil

Traveling

Adventure

Sky

Monster

Underworld

Gift

"I think I just killed a God."

Party

"Revenge never tasted so sweet."

"The sea waits for no one."

Magic

"I'll never understand you."

"That didn't sound good."

Baking Challenge

Ghost

Rescue

There's another prophecy, because of course there is.

Family Drama

Percy has always worshipped the Gods.

Sunset memories

Amnesia caused by a traumatic event. (Battle, Accident, etc.)

Oblivious mortal/immortal

Accidentally falling love on a quest.

Omegaverse

[31-daysofhorror]

It's 31 Days of Horror 2024!

Welcome to the fifth annual 31 Days of Horror writing challenge!

For those of you who have not done this challenge before it's simple. This is a horror writing challenge that takes place during the month of October. For each day you'll take the corresponding prompt and write a horror short story to go with it. You can then take your wonderful creations and post them with the tag #31DOH2024 so others can see what you wrote for the day!

There are three whole years of short stories you can go check out under the tags #31DOH2023, #31DOH2022, and #31DOH2021

If you have any questions check out the FAQ or feel free to reach out via an ask.

Happy writing!

[List ID: 1 Distraught 2 Bid 3 Riddle 4 Chance 5 Clutch 6 Unlocked 7 Answer 8 Missing 9 Spin 10 Briar 11 Dialup 12 Consult 13 Print 14 Restless 15 Needle 16 Breach 17 Pane 18 Click 19 Hunter 20 Cruise 21 Fog 22 Imposter 23 Generated 24 Sleep 25 Highway 26 Loose 27 Steps 28 Blog 29 Clover 30 Whisper 31 Close]

[kkeidawrites]

He Watches

Welcome to Day 4 of Blacktober!

The dark hue of Gotham City illuminated the sanctuary of the woman currently in bed. She tossed and turned on the linen, her forehead a perfect line of sweat and curls right under her hairline.

Her face contorted, a tint in her brow as she tossed to her right side, her hand suddenly grip the sheets by her face.

“Quiet tonight are we?” A deep voice taunts.

Y/n gasps at the voice but, tosses again; her head falling back against her pillow as she presses both hands to her crotch, letting out a whimper.

“What have we agreed on?” Soft buzzing could be heard from the chuckling man sitting in the corner of the room where the light of the moon shined through the large balcony window.

It glittered on the white patch of hair that nestled between the red tresses on top of his head. Jason Todd, known as the Red Hood to the Gotham civilians watched from his lounged position holding a red button in his right hand as his left cushioned his chin.

His thumb rolled up on the remote he was holding, a click was heard and the vibrating noise rose in volume and so did Y/n’s moans she could no longer hide away.

Jason smirks as he watches his lover wither on her bed. The white silk sheets that she so often kept clean were now becoming soaked in her essence flowing from between her legs.

Not knowing where to put her hands, Y/n grips her sheets as her legs were now open and Jason could finally see the vibrator peeking from inside of her pussy.

“Jason, oh my god!” She finally cries out and Jason chuckles quietly.

“I thought you just told me to watch? I can’t go back on your request, doll.” He says and Y/n groans in frustration.

To make things more interesting he presses up so the vibrator was on the highest setting on the remote and Y/n screams.

She tussles around in the bed for another 30 seconds until her lower body was thrusted in the air and freezes. Her cum leaks down her legs and the vibrator finally slips out of her pussy.

Y/n then curls up on her bed, knees up to her chest as she pants, her body shivering here and there.

While she collected herself, a shadow loomed over her body and Y/n looks up to see Jason holding the now wet vibrator in his right hand with a large grin on his lips.

“Good job babe. You lasted 45 minutes without coming. Now then,” he holds up a dildo as his grin turns sinister.

“Why don’t we try something more…extreme?”

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Enjoy and make sure you reblog, like, and comment!

Also I’m glad I was able to include Jason having red hair because he is a natural red head that just dyed his hair black.

Happy Blacktober!

[yugsly]

The TV star must look his best!

[serickswrites]

Falling Stars

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, forced to watch, blood, wounds, infection, mcd

Caretaker carded their fingers through Whumpee's sweat soaked hair. They had pulled Whumpee into their lap hours ago and had tried to offer Whumpee any measure of comfort, no matter how small.

It was the least they could do.

They had sat chained in a corner for days, watching Whumper torture Whumpee. Begging Whumper to give Whumpee a break and hurt them. Hoping that rescue would come soon and they would both be spared.

But as the days wore on and the blood dried on Whumpee's skin and Whumper re-opened every wound, Caretaker began to doubt. They began to doubt help was coming. They began to doubt Whumper would hurt them. And they began to doubt that Whumpee would survive.

Some of Whumpee's wounds still bled from Whumper's last visit. Some wounds oozed and wept. And some were so deep that Caretaker was certain Whumpee was dying. And soon.

"You......you need to......get out of here, C'ta'r," Whumpee managed to rasp out. "G-G-G-Go outttttt th-th-th-the wwwwwwinnnnndow-ow-ow-ow."

"I'm not leaving you," Caretaker said as they stared down into Whumpee's fever bright eyes. "Just rest a bit longer. We'll find a way to get both of us out of here." Caretaker blinked hard, fighting against the tears that were always present in their eyes. They looked away as they tried to blink away the tears. The starry night's sky winked at them from out the window.

Whumpee smiled softly. "I.....I don't th-th-think sssso-o-o-o-o."

"Nonsense. Just rest more. Rest and then I'll take you home. You can rest more. You can heal. And maybe....maybe you will be all better by the time all those falling stars happen around your birthday. We could watch them again."

"I'd.....like th-th-that."

"Just rest, Whumpee. Close your eyes. I'm not going anywhere."

"C-C-Can'ttttt l-l-l-leave yyyyyyou-ou-ou."

Caretaker's heart twinged. "It's ok. I'm not going anywhere. You're not going anywhere. Just rest, Whumpee. I'll watch over you."

Reluctantly, Whumpee closed their eyes. Caretaker knew that no amount of rest was going to make Whumpee well enough. But they couldn't give up hope. They couldn't let Whumpee die. Not yet. There had to be a way for both of them to get out.

But as time wore on and Whumpee got weaker and weaker, Caretaker realized that Whumpee was holding on, was prolonging their suffering, to spare Caretaker the heart ache.

Whumper had dragged Whumpee from their arms countless times. Whumper had beaten and tortured Whumpee countless times. And Whumper had left Whumpee barely alive and breathing on the floor countless times.

But this time was different.

Whumpee hadn't stirred when the cell door slammed shut. They hadn't stirred when Caretaker called to them. Normally Whumpee slowly dragged themself close enough that Caretaker could pull them into Caretaker's lap. But this time they just lay there and breathed.

"Whumpee," Caretaker called softly. "Say something, Whumpee."

Whumpee groaned. "T-T-Tiredddd. H-H-Hurrrrrttts-s-s-s-s."

"I know. I know, Whumpee. Let me hold you. You've always slept better in my arms. Come on, Whumpee."

Caretaker stretched to the end of their chain, their fingertips just brushing Whumpee's arm. Whumpee moaned as they tried to roll onto their side. Blood had pooled beneath them and the ground was slick. Whumpee was too weak to pull themself along.

"Love, come on, you can do it."

Slowly, painfully, Whumpee rolled onto their side. They managed to push themself with one leg close enough to Caretaker that Caretaker could pull them close. Whumpee gasped with pain as Caretaker moved them, their eyes wide and bright with pain.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry! I'm sorry!" Caretaker repeated over and over.

Whumpee didn't respond as their chest heaved weakly. They lay in Caretaker's arms, but couldn't get enough air to speak. Their eyes were hazy with pain. Their eyelids fluttered open and closed as they struggled to remain conscious.

"I'm sorry, Whumpee. I'm sorry," Caretaker sobbed. They pressed their forehead to Whumpee's. "It's ok. It's ok. You can leave me. It's ok. I'll be ok. I promise."

Whumpee blinked up at Caretaker, their eyes suddenly clear. Caretaker nodded. "It's ok. You can rest. You can leave me. I'll be ok. I promise I'll be ok. You can," Caretaker sniffed, "you can go, Whumpee. I'm here. I won't leave you."

Whumpee's stuttering wheezing breaths echoed in Caretaker's ears. They opened their mouth, but no sound came out. "It's ok, Whumpee. It's ok. I love you. You're ok, love. I'll be ok."

Slowly, Whumpee's eyes closed. Their body slowly relaxed in Caretaker's arms. Their stuttering breaths continued as Caretaker watched Whumpee relax. A light flashed in the darkened cell. Caretaker looked up and out the window. Stars. The stars were falling out the window.

"The falling stars are here, Whumpee, look," Caretaker said as they returned their gaze to Whumpee. Their mouth went dry. "Whumpee?"

Whumpee looked peaceful, as though they were asleep, their face no longer pinched with pain. But Caretaker knew better. "Oh, Whumpee," Caretaker wailed, "I am so sorry. I'm sorry."

Whumpee flopped bonelessly in Caretaker's arms as Caretaker lifted Whumpee close. They rocked with Whumpee's body as they sobbed. Whumpee was free. Whumpee had gone. Whumpee had left Caretaker behind. Whumpee had gone where Caretaker could not follow. Whumpee was with the falling stars. And Caretaker was alone.

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

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

@artisticdemon

[cod-thoughts]

Day 9 of 31 days of COD

Word count: 2.1k

Relationships: poly141, implied poly141

Tags: miscommunication, flustered ghost, discussion of weight gain (positively though).

Technically related to day 5 but not necessary to read to understand

Gaz elbowed Soap, a grin threatening to break across his face. “Tell me you saw that.” Soap didn’t respond at first, his mouth slightly open as he blinked hard, dragging his eyes away from the sight. He nudged Price, who, for once, seemed caught off guard. “I saw it, I saw it,” Price grumbled, trying to shake off whatever strange hold Ghost’s movements had over them. “Eyes front, Sergeant.” But none of them could look away for long. Keep reading under the cut or on AO3

Simon “Ghost” Riley had never been the type to indulge. Food, comfort, even basic self-care had been secondary for most of his life. Years of war, hunger, and survival had carved his body into something hard, lean, functional—a tool for violence, nothing more.

But things had changed. For the first time in as long as he could remember, he had people looking out for him—Price, Gaz, Soap. Brothers in arms who had wormed their way into his life without him realizing it. They shared meals, joked around in the mess hall, and nagged him when he skipped out on eating. At first, Ghost hadn’t thought much of it. He still ate like a soldier—quick, efficient, only what was necessary.

Yet, somewhere along the way, the team had gotten through to him. Soap’s constant teasing, Gaz’s warm encouragement, Price’s silent but steady approval—it had made a difference. He started eating more, and not just to stave off hunger. He actually began to enjoy meals with them, savouring the sense of normalcy they offered, something grounding amid the chaos of their lives.

And, slowly, his body began to change.

At first, it was subtle. A little extra padding here, a bit more muscle definition there. But over the months, Ghost had softened in ways he didn’t anticipate. His arms filled out, his chest bulked up, and his once-rigid frame now carried a softness that felt... foreign. His cheeks, once sharp and hollow, had rounded out slightly, giving his face a healthier, almost boyish look when his mask was off.

It wasn’t just his body that had changed. Ghost had grown more comfortable around the team. After years of hiding behind his mask, he’d started taking it off around them more often, even in casual settings. His scars, once a source of shame and a symbol of his past, no longer felt like something he had to hide. He’d thought they were past all that—the staring, the whispers, the discomfort.

But lately, things had shifted.

It started subtly, with lingering looks from the team. He’d catch Price’s gaze lingering on him a second too long or Soap quickly averting his eyes when Ghost noticed him staring. Gaz, usually easy-going and unflappable, would get flustered, tripping over his words whenever Ghost was around without his gear. The once casual, comfortable atmosphere between them began to feel... strange.

---

One day, after a particularly gruelling mission, they returned to base for some downtime. Ghost, exhausted but relaxed, peeled off his tactical gear, stripping down to a tank top and his cargo pants. It was nothing out of the ordinary. They’d all seen each other in less—hell, they’d shared cramped quarters for months on end. But as Ghost stretched, the fabric of his tank top clinging to his chest, he noticed the quiet.

He glanced around. Price was sitting at the table, pretending to look over mission briefs, but his eyes kept darting up to Ghost. Soap, who was lounging on the couch, was openly staring, his mouth slightly agape. Gaz, on the floor doing some light stretches, had frozen mid-motion, his eyes fixed on Ghost’s back.

Ghost narrowed his eyes. “What?”

Gaz quickly looked away, muttering something unintelligible under his breath. Soap’s face flushed, and Price cleared his throat, suddenly very interested in the mission report in front of him.

Ghost didn’t push it. He wasn’t one to make small talk, and if something was bothering them, they’d bring it up eventually. But the moment stuck with him, gnawing at the edges of his mind. That night, as he lay in his bunk, Ghost found himself running his hands over his body. He felt different. He’d never been one to care about appearances—his body was a weapon, not something to be admired. But now, with the team acting... weird, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something had shifted.

---

The stares continued over the next few weeks, becoming more frequent and more obvious. During training, he’d catch Soap and Gaz whispering to each other, stealing glances when they thought he wasn’t looking. Price, usually composed, had even been caught a few times, his eyes tracking Ghost’s movements with an expression that Ghost couldn’t quite place—somewhere between surprise and something else Ghost didn’t want to name.

They were mid-training, running drills, and Ghost had lifted his shirt to wipe the sweat from his brow. It was a quick motion, over in seconds, but Gaz caught a glimpse of his abdomen—no longer all sharp, cutting edges. He had some softness there now, a bit of a pudge that made him look more… human, more real. And damn, if Gaz wasn’t distracted.

He nudged Soap, whispering under his breath. "Mate… you seein' this?"

Soap had already been watching Ghost out of the corner of his eye, noting the way his shoulders filled his shirt more than usual. The way his arms flexed when he wasn’t even trying. Soap’s mind had been wandering for days, just trying to figure out when the hell Ghost had started looking… like that. But now, as Gaz pointed it out, he could barely stop himself from gawking.

"You’re not imagining it," Soap muttered, his voice low, careful not to let Ghost overhear. "Bloody hell… since when did he—"

"Fill out?" Gaz finished, both just a little wide-eyed.

---

Ghost wasn’t oblivious. Sure, the changes in his body hadn’t been at the forefront of his mind—he’d been through hell, after all, so his appearance wasn’t exactly a priority. But it was the way the team’s eyes lingered on him a bit longer than usual, the whispers that fell silent whenever he entered a room, that started to raise his suspicions. At first, he thought it was about his scars. It always came back to those, didn’t it?

The scars, the mask—two pieces of him that he thought 141 had come to accept. No, more than that, he thought they’d moved past them. Over time, Ghost had allowed himself to feel comfortable with them, even around his team. He’d spent so long hiding every part of himself, but with them, he had let down that wall. He’d even taken his mask off more often.

But lately… the staring was starting again.

It happened again in the armoury. Ghost was fiddling with some new gear, bent over one of the benches as he adjusted his holster. His shirt pulled tight across his back, and his arms flexed with every movement. Soap, Gaz, and Price, who had been in the room discussing plans, suddenly found themselves at a loss for words.

Gaz elbowed Soap, a grin threatening to break across his face. “Tell me you saw that.”

Soap didn’t respond at first, his mouth slightly open as he blinked hard, dragging his eyes away from the sight. He nudged Price, who, for once, seemed caught off guard.

“I saw it, I saw it,” Price grumbled, trying to shake off whatever strange hold Ghost’s movements had over them. “Eyes front, Sergeant.”

But none of them could look away for long.

Ghost wasn’t stupid. He could sense something was up, feel their eyes on him like a weight, and it set him on edge. He had been fine for months—more than fine, actually. He hadn’t felt this comfortable in years. But the stares were getting to him. It felt like they were scrutinizing him again, analysing his scars or whatever else might have been wrong with him. Had he let his guard down too much?

Over the next few days, Ghost started wearing his mask more, even in the relative safety of the base. He kept his shirt on longer after training and avoided letting them see too much of him. It wasn’t anything obvious, at least not to someone who didn’t know him. But the team? They knew him well enough to pick up on it.

Price was the first to notice the shift. One evening, while the team was lounging in the rec room, Ghost sat a little further away than usual, his mask pulled back over his face even though they weren’t in the field.

“Simon,” Price said softly, his voice cutting through the low hum of conversation.

Ghost didn’t respond at first, not wanting to meet his gaze. Eventually, though, he glanced up, catching the hint of concern in Price’s eyes.

“What?” Ghost muttered, his voice a little harsher than intended.

Price studied him for a moment. “You’ve been quiet.”

“I’m always quiet.”

Price frowned, his eyes flicking to the mask Ghost hadn’t taken off in hours. “More than usual.”

Soap and Gaz, sitting nearby, exchanged glances. They had noticed it too.

Ghost shifted in his seat, uncomfortable under the weight of their stares again. “What’s the problem?”

“The problem?” Gaz echoed, his voice softer than usual. “Mate, you’ve been… you’ve been hiding more. Mask’s on a lot these days.”

“Yeah, I thought you were getting used to not wearing it around us,” Soap added, his tone light, trying to ease the tension. “It’s not like we haven’t seen you before.”

Ghost’s jaw clenched, the quiet tick of frustration rippling through him. He took a slow breath before he spoke. “I thought you lot were over my scars,” he said, his voice low and controlled, but there was an edge to it—a sharpness born of insecurity.

The room went still.

“What?” Soap frowned, the teasing edge gone from his voice. “Your scars? Mate, we haven’t thought about those in ages.”

“Then why the hell are you staring at me all the time?” Ghost’s eyes flickered between them, a frown pulling at his brow. “You think I haven’t noticed? You all keep looking like you’ve seen a bloody ghost.”

Price, Soap, and Gaz exchanged glances, none of them quite sure how to respond at first. But it was Gaz who finally spoke up, his tone gentle, almost embarrassed.

“It’s not your scars, mate,” Gaz said, scratching the back of his neck. “It’s… well…”

Price let out a soft sigh, leaning forward. “Simon, it’s not what you think.”

Ghost’s eyes narrowed. “Then what is it?”

Soap cleared his throat awkwardly, his cheeks tinged pink as he spoke. “You’ve just… you’ve been changing. Physically, I mean. Since you started eating more.”

Ghost stared at him, confused. “What does that have to do with anything?”

Price chuckled softly under his breath. “You’ve filled out a bit, Simon. We’ve just been… noticing.”

Ghost blinked, still not quite understanding what they were getting at. “So you’re staring because I’ve gained weight?”

“It’s not just that,” Gaz said, a sheepish smile tugging at his lips. “You look… well, you look good.”

Ghost’s brow furrowed deeper. “Good?”

Soap leaned back, shaking his head, as if he couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. “Mate, you’ve filled out in all the right places. We’re not staring because of your scars—we’re staring because…” he trailed off, glancing at Price for help.

Price sighed, rubbing a hand over his face before finishing the thought. “We’re staring because you’re bloody attractive, Simon.”

Ghost froze, his brain short-circuiting at the admission. He stared at Price, then at Gaz and Soap, searching their faces for any hint of sarcasm. But all he found were three pairs of eyes looking at him with a mix of admiration, maybe even affection.

“What?” Ghost’s voice came out flat, as if he hadn’t quite processed the words.

“Yeah,” Gaz added, a little too quickly. “You’ve got… you know… pecs. And your arms—”

He gestured vaguely. “We just… well, you’re kinda—”

“Hot,” Soap finished, blunt as ever.

Ghost blinked, his mouth opening and closing as he struggled to find something—anything—to say. His cheeks, the same ones the team had secretly been melting over, flushed red under his mask.

“I—” he stammered. “You… you lot are bloody ridiculous.”

Price smiled softly. “Maybe. But it’s the truth.”

There was a long moment of silence before Ghost finally stood up, still flustered but trying to regain some semblance of control. “I’m going to bed,” he muttered, turning toward the door.

“Sweet dreams, handsome,” Soap called after him, earning a glare that was only half-serious.

As Ghost disappeared down the hallway, the three of them exchanged glances, a sense of victory hanging in the air.

“Well,” Gaz said after a moment, grinning. “That could’ve gone worse.”

Price chuckled, leaning back in his chair. “We’ll see how he handles it tomorrow.”

Soap smirked. “Oh, he’ll come around. You’ll see.”

And despite the awkwardness of the conversation, all three of them knew one thing for certain: they were all a little in love with Simon Riley. Whether or not anything would come of it was still up in the air, but for now, they were content just being there, admiring him from a distance, knowing that, deep down, Ghost was starting to accept that he was more than just the scars that had once defined him.

[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.

[becausebuckley]

my wishes come true (whenever i'm with you) | buddie | only one bed | 3.6k

buck and eddie have to share a bed in a hotel. for @flufftober day 31, make a wish!

“You okay?” Buck whispers into the darkness. There's a pause before Eddie responds, his voice low and a bit hesitant. “Yeah, I’m fine. I guess I’m not really used to sharing a bed with someone anymore, you know? It’s been a while.” Buck’s heart skips a beat at the admission. He knew this, of course, but hearing Eddie say it out loud makes it more real somehow. He swallows hard, gathering his courage before speaking. “Yeah, I get that,” he says softly. “It’s been a while for me too. But it’s kind of nice, isn’t it? Having someone there?” “It is,” Eddie says. “I- I always liked that. With Shannon, sure, but also with you, during quarantine. It feels safer.” “I feel safer, too.” Buck’s voice drops down to a whisper. There's a moment of stillness, and then Eddie moves closer, his knee accidentally bumping against Buck’s thigh. “Sorry,” Eddie murmurs, but he doesn’t move away. Instead, he stays there, the warmth of his body radiating through the thin barrier of their pants.

read the full fic on ao3 here!

[maybeitsalivescribbles]

Day 31: Bonus Day

Cape

“Your suit must include a cape,” cut the Designer dryly. “If you’re a Hero, you have to wear a cape.”

Hero squirmed uncomfortably:

“But- didn’t the Edna Mode School of Thought say-”

The end of this sentence died on their lips as Designer glared at them, waving dangerously with their scissors gliding in their hand:

“I know what they say. Do you fly?”

“N-no?”

“Then most of the risks are averted. All clothes have dangers, if you put it like that. You can trip on a scarf or on new shoes too.”

“But capes do nothing.”

“Excuse me? The propaganda has come too far!”

Designer rubbed their forehead:

“Look, if you’re cut from help and backup, trust me, you’ll be grateful for the extra fabric. You can carry things or a person with it. You can rip it apart for bandages. It can be used as a shock blanket or a way to protect anonymity. ”

“I-I didn’t think about that-”

“Exactly.”

Designer stepped forward and poked at their forehead:

“So you’re gonna walk out to the world with your shiny new suit, you’re going to heroically cover a citizen in need with your crazy useful cape, and you’re going to look damn good doing it. Understood?”

“Y-Yes, Designer.”

"Don't be ungrateful to the Cape and its wonders. Or it will end you."

*

Aaand that makes 10 snippets. Thanks for the event @augusnippets, it's been fun !

Back to the Hero x Villain Masterlist

Whump/Horror Masterlist

[snakebites-and-ink]

Augusnippets Day 16: Humiliation / Dehumanisation / Conditioning

CW: Conditioned whumpee, pet whump, willing recapture

“Whumpee,” Whumper greeted warmly.

Whumpee was a pitiful sight, looking all pleading and nervous on their doorstep. “Can…can I come in?”

“Of course. Finally had enough, have you?”

Whumpee gave a short nod as they came inside. “But…please, I just want to ask one thing.”

Of course, Whumper had expected Whumpee would need something from them in order to come crawling back here. They’d play along. “What is it, sweet?”

“Please, just don’t hurt Caretaker.”

Not the kind of question they expected. Whumper blinked, but recovered too quickly to give Whumpee a chance to doubt. “Alright. If that’s what my pet needs from me, I won’t do a thing to harm them.”

And with that all the nervousness bled out of them. “Thank you, Master.” Whumpee cuddled up to Whumper, fearfulness making way for the doting, sweet pet Whumper had trained them to be.

 Whumper hadn’t known the conditioning held out so well even through Whumpee’s time with Caretaker. They looked down at Whumpee, pleased, and wrapped an arm around them in return. “Was the only thing keeping you from coming back to me that you were worried about Caretaker?”

Whumpee nodded and hugged into them.

“Gosh, you’re so sweet.” Whumper stroked Whumpee’s hair lovingly. All theirs. Even in Whumpee’s mind. Whumper’d had no reason to worry. “Nothing to worry about, pet. I’ll leave them be. For you.”

Sequel :)

[goddessserephina]

Spooktober Writing Prompts 2024

Here’s 31 prompts to use during Spooktober 2024! I know it’s a couple days late, but I totally forgot to post.

1. Ghost

2. Monster

3. Haunted House

4. Secret

5. Greek

6. Orange

7. Pumpkins

8. Glow

9. Misty

10. Dark

11. Abandoned

12. Animal

13. Party

14. Crystal

15. Blood

16. Windy

17. Empty

18. Fight

19. Overgrown

20. Mystery

21. Corn Maze

22. Water

23. Mask

24. Castle

25. Comfy

26. Undead

27. Trail

28. Sunset

29. Power

30. Costume

31. Halloween

Please remember that this challenge is just for fun and you should always take your time and don’t stress! Posting or doing the challenge already won’t hurt anyone!

[gallawitchxx]

master list • @gallavichthings kinktober 2024

↳ 31 days of kinks & cards in 3 sentences

day one • A/B/O x THE HANGED ONE day two • AFTERCARE x PAGE OF SWORDS day three • ANONYMOUS SEX x THE FOOL day four • BEGGING x 5 OF PENTACLES day five • BONDAGE x THE TOWER day six • CHOKING x THE WORLD day seven • COCK RING x 6 OF WANDS day eight • CREAMPIE x 3 OF CUPS day nine • DEEP THROATING x 8 OF SWORDS day ten • EDGING x 7 OF CUPS day eleven • FISTING x QUEEN OF PENTACLES day twelve • GUN PLAY x THE STAR day thirteen • HATE SEX x 4 OF SWORDS day fourteen • INTERCRURAL SEX x THE CHARIOT day fifteen • LEATHER/LATEX x ACE OF WANDS day sixteen • LOVE BITES x THE MAGICIAN day seventeen • MIRROR SEX x 6 OF SWORDS day eighteen • OVERSTIMULATION x QUEEN OF SWORDS day nineteen • PIERCINGS x 7 OF SWORDS day twenty • DEGRADATION x 9 OF PENTACLES day twenty-one • PUBLIC x ACE OF PENTACLES day twenty-two • RIMMING x KING OF SWORDS day twenty-three • ROLE PLAY x 9 OF SWORDS day twenty-four • SENSORY DEPRIVATION x 3 OF SWORDS day twenty-five • SEX TOYS x ACE OF SWORDS day twenty-six • SEXTING x KING OF CUPS day twenty-seven • SIZE KINK x 5 OF SWORDS day twenty-eight • SPANKING x 8 OF PENTACLES day twenty-nine • TATTOOS x THE WHEEL OF FORTUNE day thirty • VOICE KINK x QUEEN OF WANDS day thirty-one • WAX PLAY x 3 OF WANDS

[likelylarks]

some snippets related to this (sculptor max)

Max finished sealing the sculpture, swiping off some excess from the arch of Daniel's foot. Max couldn't bring himself to step back and take in the whole of him. He stayed, kneeling at Daniel's feet, for a long time. He'd put so much of himself into sculpting Daniel; at some point, he'd started talking to Daniel as if he was a real person. Telling him about his day and the people he'd seen at the market and, in his weakest moments, how much he wished Daniel could speak back to him.

He'd spent too much time on Daniel. Neglecting his commissions for weeks. Max knew it was bad for his business but something had called him to Daniel - even when he was still just a solid block of imported marble. Max closed his eyes, bowing his head until his forehead rested just slightly on the bend of one of Daniel's knees. He would have to sell Daniel to make up for the loss of business. The thought cut Max to his core. He couldn't let go of Daniel.

Max didn't know how long he stayed there, trying to reconcile himself to giving Daniel up. Max took a deep breath, maybe if he could just get up and look at Daniel, he'd find something that he didn't like and could convince himself that Daniel wasn't the best thing he'd ever done, that Daniel wasn't perfect. He went to push himself to his feet, still reluctant to open his eyes, when he felt something touch his head. Something that felt like a hand, pushing his hair back from his forehead, tilting his head back.

Max's eyes snapped open, instantly locking onto warm, bright, brown eyes. Real eyes.

"Incantato, Max." Daniel smiled at him with teeth that Max had not carved.

--

Max couldn't stop staring at the inexplicable parts of Daniel. As if every part of Daniel was not now inexplicable. But it was his eyes, his teeth, the laugh-line wrinkle that had appeared by his right eye, the whorls of his fingerprints, that made Max feel the most insane. Daniel wasn't just walking, talking stone. He was. Real. A whole person. An angel maybe? Max didn't know.

All he knew was that Daniel was walking around his workshop, naked, picking up the little bits and bobs and tools that were laying around. He paused at the small basket on one of Max's worktables. He plucked a peach out and ran his fingers delicately over the fuzz. He looked over his shoulder, holding it up for Max's inspection. "Is this what you told me about? The fruit you were excited to find at the market yesterday?"

Max nodded, still unable to say anything to Daniel. Daniel had heard him yesterday.

Daniel smiled again - he did that a lot - and took a bite.

--

Daniel was examining himself in Max's small looking glass. He reached up to stroke along the bridge of his nose. He turned slightly, raising an eyebrow at Max. "You really had to make my nose like this?"

"I made it like that because I think noses like yours are, of course, beautiful." Max replied, feeling a little defensive.

Daniel blushed - blushed! - then recovered. Max couldn't believe that this was his life; that Daniel could blush now. Now that he was real.

Daniel lazily waved a hand around, gesturing to the other contents of Max's workshop, before pointing his finger downwards. "Did you think this was also beautiful?" Daniel asked, smirking slightly. "I notice your other work is not quite so well endowed."

Max flushed so deeply he knew that his entire face and neck were bright pink.

--

Daniel pushed inside Max, stretching him and making him gasp, wet with want. Daniel bent to speak directly in Max's ear, "Does it feel like you hoped? Fill you up just like you imagined?" Daniel ground his hips, pressing against Max's prostate and stealing the "yes" from his lips before he could get it out. Daniel didn't wait for Max to recover his words before he began thrusting, sinking deep into Max each time. Max couldn't help the almost constant string of moans coming from him. Daniel reached up to cup Max's face, wiping away tears Max didn't even know he'd shed. "Fuck, Max, you feel so good. Maybe you were the one made for me."

Max scrabbled at Daniel's back, his neck, trying to pull him closer. His hand's caught in Daniel's curls; luscious and soft and not reminiscent of the stone they had been less than a week ago. This time, Max managed to get out the words, "Yes, Daniel, yes. Just for you."

[kkeidawrites]

For You

Day 8 of Blacktober is done!

CW: Little Smut, so turn your brightness down.

Date night went great as usual, Y/n expected to find herself heading back to her flat in uptown Gotham and start on her dress down from the night.

However, the car she rode in passed by the highway that would take her straight to her house and she looked to her left at her boyfriend Dick Grayson.

He normally would tell her where they would be going as Y/n wasn’t too big on surprises.

“Are we taking a detour?” She asks.

Dick places a finger over his lips and shushes her with a playful grin on his face.

“It’s a secret, just sit back and enjoy the ride.” He says and U/n raises a brow at him suspiciously.

45 minutes later, Y/n sees a new scenery it still surprises her at how vibrant the trees looked. The sun was coming down and Y/n awed at the pretty hues that illuminated the sky.

When the car had finally stopped, Y/n didn’t even notice until Dick grabbed her left hand sitting in her lap. Her eyes found Dick’s practically beaming face and tilted her head in confusion.

Dick gets out of the car and walks over to Y/n’a side, opening her door and holding out his hand to help her out. She takes his much larger hand and is helped out of the car.

Y/n looked around the to see what the big surprise was until, her eyes widened in surprise, a gasp leaving her lips.

Their view of the landscape was so vast and beautiful, complete opposite of the dark clouds and shadows that crept in every alley that Gotham was known for.

The night and the day were perfectly in sync with each other, the night sky slowly approaching the horizon and the sun disappearing into the lowered clouds to rest for the next day to come.

“Dick, wow…how is this even possible to time?” Y/n asks and Dick lays out a blanket to cover the hood of his car.

“I had a little help, it’s good to have a little brother that knows how to do math and know his astronomy.” He chuckles.

Y/n sits on the hood of the car bringing her knee up to her chest as Dick sits next to her.

“Thank you Dick. This was a wonderful surprise, and you know I hate surprises.”

“That’s why I made this into a secret and not a surprise.” He says and Y/n pushes his shoulder playfully.

“You and that mouth, it’s going to get you into trouble.” She giggles and Dick smirks at her.

“Good trouble I hope?” He leans in closer and Y/n lowers her eyes to his lips.

“If you can find it.” She smiles slyly and moves in closer to him.

“I think I did.” His lips finds hers and the two interlock in a heated kiss.

&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&&

Clothes have been thrown to the ground, perhaps losing a couple pieces of cloth in the wooden area but that didn’t deter the couple.

Dick was thrusting his lower body on Y/n’s pussy, letting her juices coat his dick as the two wrestled in a tongue match.

Y/n rubbed down his back and pinched his ass making the taller man jump in delight.

Parting from their kiss, Dick kisses down her body until he is at her pelvic area and kneels down.

Dick’s head is between her legs as he feasts away at her pussy. Y/n bites her lip in pleasure and pulls on his hair.

“We can’t just do this, we’re in public Dick!” She says in a breathless voice.

“I don’t hear any complaints from you.” He says and is quick to return to eating her out.

Y/n cries out in pleasure and places a hand over her mouth to avoid any further noise from leaving her.

Dick inserted two fingers inside of her and began thrusting quickly into her. Y/n didn’t want to get any louder than what she was and grabbed his wrist that currently had his fingers inside her.

“You bastard!” She whisper yells and Dick just grins.

“Only for you.”

[timelessmulder]

[Fibercrafting] Whatever Happened to Spun With Love? {heavy}

(31 days of horror day 9: Spin)

For the past five years, Caitlin "Cat" Doherty found her foothold on sites like Instagram and Ravelry selling commissions for her eye catching, hand spun yarn made with ethically sourced dyes and alpaca wool. She had a small but moderate presence on the convention circuit, selling handmade goods that showed off her yarn. Eventually she started making limited runs, available at convention booths and through higher tiers of her Patreon. Shortly after this she quit her full time job in data entry to pursue fiber works full time.

In mid-2022, at the urging of some other people in the hand dyed yarn business, and people who had bought from her before, she opened her own Etsy. The catalog was massive, with at least twenty listings. This included her most popular limited runs that always sold out within moments. This was when the cracks first began to show, even among her most devoted followers: this was a huge amount of work for one person to be undertaking, even if the listings promised continued limited runs and wait lists.

In an Instragram announcement, crossposted to her Twitter, Cat said:

I appreciate the concern from all y'all :3c but I calculated the amount of work I think I'll be able to handle running a small business. If things actually spiral out of my control, I will step back and reevaluate.

Despite her words, a healthy amount of skepticism remained. Her fans worried about her health, and naysayers thought she'd fold within a few months.

this is a lot for someone to handle! take care of yourself cat

she's going to hightail it the first time she gets orders and the backlog goes crazy. shes doomed

wouldn't it have been smarter to start with like five??? get that bag ig

The orders remained steady for the first five months of operation. Cat would periodically close listings and get items out to customers with slow wait times that remained consistent, typically a few weeks before arrival. The convention appearances came to an end, much to the dismay of people who enjoyed seeing her cottagecore booth in person, but Cat assured people that once she found a groove with this business she would start going to conventions again.

No one was really surprised when things started to slow down. Reports brought up longer wait times, and a major backlog that she couldn't keep up with.

i was put on a waitlist like two months ago and people who ordered straight from the listing got shit before me

girl just limit the waitlist no one will judge you!!!

Cat Doherty tweeted an apology:

I'm so sorry for all the issues. A major life event happened, but I'll be getting back on top of things! I will be halting any new listings to work on my backlog. I'm so sorry for the frustration and inconvenience. In the meantime, why don't you check out Jessica's shop, Spindle and Thimble?

Jessica White was a fellow dyer who also did work dying fabrics. Her store was not as prominent as Cat's, but she had an unmatched business savvy that gave her a solid niche despite middling Etsy reviews. While most of their friendship remained behind the scenes, with Jessica being someone who preferred to keep her life offline, it seemed that Jessica wanted the novice entrepreneur to succeed. Many took the shout out to be Cat returning the favor.

True to her word, Cat closed her Etsy for the time being and started to send out yarn to the people still waiting on orders. People responded with annoyance at how long it took, but surprised delight that the quality was excellent as always.

Three months after the announcement, the shipments stopped. A thread by Lisa Fitz appeared on ravelry:

Has anyone gotten an order from Spun With Love recently?

I should've been in her next batch of orders but its been weeks. I haven't gotten a shipment and no text communication from Doherty. I paid upfront for this!

This spun out in predictable directions.

Christ I hope she's okay ):

lmao who wants to bet money that we've got another "fake her death because she couldn't handle the pressure?" going on

The second comment referencing multiple situations where fiber craft artists have faked their deaths due to being overwhelmed by their sales numbers, most notably Mystic Creations Yarn (talked about in this thread). This situation exploded, with some people doubling down on the idea that she's vanished off the face of the earth rather than deal with potentially irate customers, while others expressed genuine concern. Everyone agreed that if there was an issue, they hoped she would reach out to them and explain.

A few days later, when the argument was a post every few hours instead of a constant stream, Jessica stepped in.

Hey guys, Jessica here. Cat has asked me to let you know that she's had a major health scare and she's very sorry for the upset she's caused to all of you. In the mean time, I will be offering free products of similar color to those who haven't had their orders fulfilled. Just email me a copy of your receipt. If not, we will work on getting refunds out to you.

Most were relieved at the update on Cat's well being, while others preened at being correct that she'd fold under the pressure. More arguments ensued between those people, and those scolding them for being so callous about her health. The argument got pretty heated, only stopping when a mod stepped in to tell everyone to play nice. Creative burnout is a known thing in the crafting community and Cat shouldn't be punished for it, though she should have stepped forward sooner to let everyone know what was happening.

The thread fizzled out after that. People moved on with their lives, chalking this up to another piece of craft drama and more than happy to leave it at that.

Months passed, and someone returned to that thread:

Sorry to necro, but did anyone else see the news report?

In the post was a link to a news report from the town where Cat was living. She had been murdered, and her body only recently found.

To say the thread exploded after that would be an understatement. There were people apologizing for being so cruel about her vanishing, people were trying to reach out to her family to see if there was any way they could help. Digital vigils were held for the person taken too soon. And as it often does on the internet, a question arose from the posters: who had done it? Why?

hey can anyone get into contact with jessica???

i don't think its appropriate. they were friends, jessica is probably grieving like the rest of us

dude leave her alone

idk yall her post is pretty suspicious

what the fuck is wrong with you?

But the seed of suspicion was laid in the minds of some forum users. It spread into the wider community, though everyone's grief disguised any suspicions placed on Jessica. Those who found her behavior odd were often shunned and blocked for it, until they stopped bothering outside of their conspiracy corners. These people would soon be vindicated when news broke that Jessica White had been arrested in relation to the death of 34-year-old Caitlin Doherty.

The investigation at this point is still on going and very little is known about it, but initial reports are saying that someone broke into Cat's rented studio and beat her to death with one a piece of her spinning wheel. Few other details have been released to the public.

--------

ffiberfarrts commented | 2.1k upvotes:

hey op why is this on hobbydrama

[serickswrites]

It Ends Here

Warnings: self sacrifice, exhaustion, magical exhaustion, unconsciousness

"No! It's a dead end. No!" Caretaker shouted hopelessly as they skidded to a halt. The others stopped behind them, each of them crying out their own lamentations. Whumper had been chasing them all through the system of caves for who knew how long. They had all been sure that this was the way out.

"There's only one way out of here," Whumpee said solemnly. They turned to face where they had all come from.

"Whumper and their minions are back that way! We can't go back, they'll vaporize us!" Teammate One cried.

"There has to be another way," Teammate Two said as they began to tap on the walls. "There has to be another way."

"We're going to die," Teammate Three said as they began to sob. They collapsed to their knees.

"We're not going to die. It ends here. Right here. Right now. We're ending this," Whumpee said angrily.

"What do you mean, Whumpee?" Caretaker didn't like the look in Whumpee's eyes.

"I can stall Whumper. I can stop them probably. But I can definitely stall them long enough for you all to escape," Whumpee said quickly as they started back down the tunnel. "Run as fast and far as you can. Warn everyone. There will be some who can help you."

"Whumpee, you can't do that! It's suicide!" Caretaker couldn't breathe past the panic gripping their heart.

"I'm the only one who can do this!" Whumpee shouted angrily. "So go! Run! I can take Whumper!"

Before Caretaker could offer more protest, Whumpee hurried down the tunnel. "Whumpee, wait!"

"Let them go, Caretaker, they're buying us time!" Teammate Three shouted as they started to run towards the end of the tunnel. Whumpee had turned right, trying to lure Whumper off. Teammate Three turned left.

Caretaker hesitated at the mouth of the tunnel. They could get to safety. They could get help. They could warn as many as they could. But they wouldn't be able to help Whumpee. To save Whumpee.

They turned away from the team's retreating backs and ran after Whumpee. They couldn't abandon Whumpee. They couldn't let Whumpee die alone.

Caretaker's chest was heaving by the time they reached where Whumper and Whumpee were facing off. The air was heavy with magic and Caretaker could barely breathe past it. Relief filled them as they saw Whumpee still standing, looking relatively unscathed.

Whumper, however, was faring poorly. Their minions had scattered and they were struggling to hold off Whumpee's power. With a cry of pain, Whumper collapsed and remained unmoving on the ground.

"You did it!" Caretaker said with a crow of delight. Whumpee had succeeded. They really were Whumper's match. They had beat Whumper.

Whumpee turned slowly, stumbling a step. "Caret'r," they mumbled as their knees buckled.

"Whumpee, no!" Caretaker shouted as they hurried forward, catching Whumpee before they smacked their face on the ground. "Say something, Whumpee!" Whumpee was limp and pliable in their arms.

"Whumpee!" Caretaker brushed back Whumpee's long hair. Their skin was hot to the touch and they were breathing rapidly. "Whumpee!" Caretaker repeated as they tapped Whumpee's cheek.

Whumpee didn't wake. They had completely exhausted themself. The use of power had been more than Caretaker had ever seen them muster. "Hold on, Whumpee. I'll get you to a healer. Just hold on."

They stood up and began to run. Magical exhaustion was dangerous, deadly even. They couldn't let Whumpee pay the ultimate sacrifice to beat Whumper. "Just hold on!"

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

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

@artisticdemon