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jasmines-library · 7 months

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Just One Big Headache

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Day one, prompt "How many fingers am I holding up?" FANDOM: Supernatural Summary: A routine salt 'n' burn takes a nasty turn when the spirit directs its anger towards you, leaving you with a nasty concussion, but not to worry, the Winchesters are there to look after you. Warnings: Head injury, concussion, loss of consciousness, violence, weapons, broken ribs. Word count: 1.8k Author Note: Aaaaaand its off! Welcome to jedi-archives whumptober 2023! I promise i'm going to try my best to get these out everyday but i can't make any promises. My prompts are coming from a mixture of the official @whumptober prompts and my own. I'm starting off with something slightly fluffy to ease us in. With that said, happy whumping!

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

'it's just a salt 'n' burn' they said. 'it'll be fun' they said. Oh boy were they wrong.

The air was crisp as you stepped out of the Impala. You watched as the little clouds of air rose before your face, illuminated by the street lamps which flickered haphazardly. Tugging your jacket closer to your body you made your way around to the back of the car, following the crunch of Sam’s shoes as he walked across the frosted grass. Dean propped open the trunk and made quick work of loading rock salt into his rifle and ensuring that there were enough matches inside his pack. The other Winchester hauled the shovel from the car and leaned it against his shoulder; it was hefty and made with iron, caked in mud and rust. The pistol that you shifted between your hands was so familiar, like an extension of your body. It fit snugly in your grip. Flicking the chamber open with a metallic click, you made sure it was fully loaded before snapping off the safety and slipping it in a holster on your belt.

The grass was damp from the frost that had settled on the grass in the graveyard. It had managed to claw its way up the gravestones and trees like fingers too. It seeped uncomfortably through the toes of your boots as you trudged towards the grave. Small and unkept, it sat located towards the west side of the gravesite. It belonged to a young woman who was brutally murdered a few years ago, but who’s case ran cold. It was safe to say that she was pissed; her revenge taking the form of hunting down those who were associated with the woman who killed her. But what started out as unfinished business soon turned cold and twisted as she turned to others who had wronged. Her grave stood out on the line of tall, pearly stones with dainty flowers laying at their feet. It was dark and clad with weeds. Unloved.

Dean’s duffel landed with a thud next to the grave, unsettling the ground around it. The shovel went down next to it.

“Alrighty.” He said, rubbing his hands together. “You know the drill.”

Sam rolled his eyes, but brought out his hands in front of him anyway. “Seriously dude, I don’t even know why we bother anymore.”

“It’s a game of chance, Sammy. Now shoot.”

After the count of three, you and Sam shaped your hands into a fist and brought them forwards. You smirked. Dean had played scissors. With a groan, he pulled his hand back and reeled his body away.

You laughed. “Scissors everytime, Dean.”

The eldest Winchester grumbled something underneath his breath, but picked up the shovel and begrudgingly began to dig until the shovel hit something solid, you and Sam kept your eyes peeled for any sign of the spirit.

“Okay. This is it.” he confirmed, hauling up the lid of the coffin. It creaked open on unsteady hinges. The corpse beneath still had skin attached to its discoloured bones. It pooled loosely around the woman's frame. The putrid smell that emerged would have made you gag had you not already had your fair share of salt ‘n’ burns. “Keep an eye out for that son of a bitch.”

Sam lent a hand to haul his brother out of the newly dug pit. From where you were standing, a few feet away, you could see the top of his hair poking out from the top of the opening. Almost mechanically, the brothers began to tip the gasolene and sprinkle the salt onto the body.

The deathly howl that suddenly emerged in front of you snapped you awake. The spirit raced towards the Winchesters, gritting her teeth and scowling. Her vacant eyes narrowed at them as she got closer, but your fingers were on the trigger before you could blink, sending her away with a shrill cry and a cloud of grey.

“Hurry.” You told your friends, who had moved from preparing the body to the old duffel on the ground. Dean rummaged around desperately on his knees, not caring about the cold, until he felt the familiar grit of the matchbox against his fingers. Tugging it out, he ran back to the body. Sam tugged the shotgun tighter to him and positioned it in front of himself. The two of you danced around, keeping your eyes peeled for the ghost.

The spirit appeared behind you this time, wailing like a banshee. Sam shot it in the chest before it howled shrilly and disappeared.

“Dean! Hurry up!” You cried as it reappered again. He was busy fumbling with the matches, which refused to light on the cold box. He pushed too hard against the cardboard and felt the stick snap and splinter. He cursed loudly.

“I’m trying!” He huffed back through gritted teeth.

All it took was that one look over your shoulder to Dean for the spirit to catch you off guard. Sam’s shout of your name was a second too late as a ghost appeared behind you, wrapping its cold, bony fingers around you and flinging you away. You cried out in pain as your head collided with one of the neighbouring gravestones and your body slid to the floor.

“Dean!” Sam yelled out for his brother, firing his weapon at the creature and sending it dissipating to somewhere else on the property.

The match slipped between Dean’s fingers, twisting in his grip as he tried to create friction between the two objects. Time seemed to stop as Sam raced towards your side to be cut off by the woman re-emerging in his path. That was when the match tumbled from his brother’s grasp, landing on the heap of chemicals and starting the chain reaction of events.

The woman reeled back as she burst into flames like a candle. The sound she made was dreadful, it cut right through you as she writhed on her feet. When she finally finished her onslaught of screaming and her bones were no more than a dismal pile of ash, Sam fell to his knees in front of you, cupping your head in his hands. It lolled to the side, unable to hold itself up against the throbbing pain in your skull. Sam was suddenly aware of the blood that trickled from your temple and coaxed his fingers, crying out again for his brother, he gave your face a gentle tap. Your eyes fluttered beneath heavy lids.

“Hey, Hey. Kid. Stay with me.” He pleaded, searching your face. “Open your eyes Y/N, come on.”

Your eyelids felt like they were made of lead. Your head felt hazy as you peeled them open, watching Sam swim before you.

“That's it! Keep them open Y/N.”

Dean was to your left, his hands roaming your body for any other injuries. You whimpered when his fingers flushed against your tender skin on your upper back. You were sure you had a broken rib. Or three.

“I know. I know sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

Sam’s face was close to yours as he tilted it upwards. He saw the way that your pupils were dilated; one the size of the fucking moon, the other lagging behind.

“Shit. Dean?”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Dean prompted, “Can you stand?”

He moved to position himself under your arm, wrapping it around his neck. Sam’s arm weaved around your waist and the two of them hauled you to your feet. The movement made you want to hurl and you cried out as the pressure in your head and ribs increased tenfold.

“You’re okay, sweetheart, You’re okay.”

Your movements were sluggish as you floated towards the car. your vision doubled and you were now struggling to differentiate left and right. Your legs trembled in your fogginess, you seemed to lose all control of your limbs, relying heavily on the arms wrapped around you to aid you back to the Impala. It was when your vision blurred and your legs completely folded beneath you like a crushed can that Sam scooped you up into his arms. He cringed at your noise of discomfort, but raced behind his brother to the old car which was parallel parked across the street.

“We’re nearly there kiddo,” He hushed. “Just keep those pretty eyes open for me, okay?”

You tried to keep them open. You really did, but it just became too much. Your body became slack in Sam’s arms as you gave into unconsciousness.

The light was too bright when you peeled your eyes open again. You were back in the bunker, propped up on pillows in your bed. Your whine alerted Dean to your awareness. His hand, which was clutching yours, moved to wave in front of your eyes.

“Y/N? How many fingers am I holding up?”

Sam rolled his eyes, swatting his hands away. He saw the way you squinted painfully against the light and moved to the switch on the other side of the room to dim it, before promptly coming to perch on the edge of your bed. . Satisfied, you hummed and scanned the room, eyes landing on the two worried Winchesters who loitered in your room. They breathed a visible sign of relief when they saw your eyes focus on theirs. Your ribs still stung, and the throbbing in your head was still present. You reached up and trailed your fingers across your temple. The skin had been cleaned there, the dried blood no longer glued to your face. You could still feel it in your hair where Sam hadn’t quite managed to get it all out. The skin was rough and had begun to scab over. A pair of hands wrapped around your wrist and pulled your fingers away.

“Don’t touch.” Sam said tenderly, handing you a glass and a handful of painkillers. The glass was cool against your lips as you swallowed them thickly. “It should heal on its own. It didn’t need stitches.”

You blinked groggily. “What happened?”

“Ghost got you good.” Dean told you. “You have two broken ribs and a concussion.”

“And the ghost?” you asked.

“Taken care of.”

Nodding slowly, you rubbed the sleep from your eyes.

“I-” Dean stuttered. “You had us worried Y/N”

“I'm sorry.”

Sam shook his head firmly. “Not your fault.”

“But-”

“Nope. Not hearing it.” He said sternly.

You sighed. “So, what's the damage, Dr Winchester?”

The youngest brother chuckled at the remark, glad to see that you were feeling more of yourself. “You are going to stay in bed and rest for a few days. We are going to stay here and look after you.” he told you before you rolled your eyes at the idea of being bed bound.

“I suppose I could do that.” You shrugged, not opposed to the idea of having the Winchesters as your personal waiters for the next few days.

“I thought you’d be happy.” Dean shook his head, then gestured to the covers and the tv which was mounted on the wall. “Room for two more?”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

DAY TWO

🏷️ Whumptober Taglist

#whumptober2023 #no.1 #how many fingers am i holding up?#concussion #brokenribs #unconscious #hurt/comfort #whumo #supernatural #supernatural x reader #winchester #winchesters x reader #fanfiction #writing #angst #supernatural fanfiction

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ramblingfanficer · 1 year

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are we gonna talk about the scene where dracula literally harmed renfield because i keep rewatching it both like

“that’s fucking vile.”

and

“i have so much inspiration to write about this”

#elliam’s shit #rambles #renfield movie #renfield #dracula #renfield 2023 #whumo #whumpee #whumper #fyi renfield is the whumpee #and dracula is the whumper #if you couldn’t tell #whumpblr

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emcscared-whumps · 8 months

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A treat for the WLC 2023 Multimedia Summer Exchange!

Gifted to: @willowtreewhump

Find it on Ao3: [here]

You can find more about her OCs and writing on her blog!

This miserable boi is a DELIGHT I had SO much fun slipping in as many details as I possibly could

#whumo #whump art #emc's art #whump community #art exchange #whumpblr #oc #oc whump #digital art #art #whump exchange #whump oc #Siam Leto

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caterpillarinacave · 1 year

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WIP Snippet

Just a super short snippet from an AU fic where Roman survives the fall.

The world seemed bleary and muffled, like everything was under water. His head ached something awful, his mouth tasted like blood and plastic, his throat felt raw, and his whole body felt odd, like it wasnt quite his.

Each breath hurt horribly, and seemed too shallow and thick, like he was trying to breath underneath a thick comforter.

Someone was saying something, from above him, too muffled to understand, or warrant opening his eyes, but a second later he felt a soft, gentle, touch on his cheek. He let his eyes flutter open, to see a familiar face, the pink in her hair setting her apart from the other fuzzy silhouettes above him.

¨Where…?¨ His own voice was little more than a broken whisper, but even that seemed to loud, making his ears ring, and forcing his eyes shut again, the overhead lights too much for his aching, exhausted body to handle. He thought he could feel her shift, her hand coming up to cup his cheek, soft and gentle, and he would have leaned into the touch if the world wasn't already slipping away from him, and by the time she pulled back the fleeting moment of consciousness passed and the familiar had darkness crept back in.

#look this is a rough draft #just let it be bad #i havent worked on it in two months #roman torchwick #rwby #neo #neopolitan #fanfiction #straight from the cave (og content)#whumo #?#WIP #angsty #neo rwby #rwby au #roman torchwick (rwby)

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whumpookies · 2 years

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Icerde bölüm 34 part 1

#içerde #There's gonna he a fight and not just any!#Whumo #Whump #Oh that's gonnnnnnna hurt!#Whump cookies

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demondamage · 8 months

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With the delicate bones of his ear drum bleeding, broken with a sharp precise jab, all the demon could hear was the blood pounding in his own ears.

for @figuwhump fridays!!!!

Art tag: @whump-tr0pes @whump-queen @whumpsday @whumpinthepot @kixngiggles @onlywhumpcomments @project-xiii @quietly-by-myself @ka1imba @suspicious-whumping-egg @cyborg0109 @whatwhumpcomments @whumpcomica @i-eat-worlds @blood-and-regrets @dont-look-me-in-the-eye @burntcoffeewhump @lonesome--hunter @whumpifi @oddsconvert @painsandconfusion @whumpasaurus101 @sadcatjae @kiratheperson @studyofwhump @sunshiline-writes @emmettnet @just-a-silly-little-whumper @chaotic---calm

#whump #whump art #demondamageart #aziphem #demon whumpee #demon whump #figuwhump #blood #bruises #ear whumo #lab whump #art #necrotrophic soul

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goldenempyrean · 1 year

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that endgame scene with Nat in the rain with her hood down. Could you do a fic with that?

Come Back Inside

〚 Notes - Hey! Its been a while since my last actual post, we finally got through all the valentines stuff then I decided to go away for a few days so I haven't had much time to write. Anyway I'm guessing the anon was referring to the scene above sooo yeah! This is a little sad but nothing major :D It takes place during Endgame :) 〛

〚 Summary - Nat's been neglecting herself for work and the weight of the ongoing situation finally breaks her down, you find her sat alone in the rain which surely can't be good for her health. 〛

〚 Wordcount - 985 〛

〘 Check Out My Masterlist! 〙

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The small garden on the roof. It used to be one of Natasha’s favourite places to sit. It was everyone's. The team would regularly gather there with a drink or two and chat. But now? Now it was just a reminder of what she had lost… who she had lost.

So, when you walked past and caught a glance of Nat sat alone outside, it was safe to say you were shocked Nobody went out there anymore. She was sat perfectly still as the rain beat hard against her, the thin raincoat she wore did little to keep away the harsh chill in the air, not to mention the fact she was thoroughly soaked.

Her mind was a mess of worry, anxiety and shame. She clutched her hand tightly, as though it could’ve provided her with even an inkling of comfort from the endless pit growing inside. By chance you’d passed one of the windows which showed out into the garden and instantly you were at the sliding door, calling out to her from within.

“Baby?”

She barely registered your arrival, only turning her head a little to face you. Her eyes are red-rimmed, and her face is blank with grief—or whatever it is that keeps her sitting there in the damp rain, utterly still. You’d never seen her look so vulnerable or defeated. Her lip trembled a little as she looked at you. If her face wasn’t drenched with the rain, you would’ve seen the flow of tears which ran down her cheeks.

Despite the pouring rain you stepped outside despite wearing nothing more than a t-shirt and shorts as you slowly made your way to her, sitting beside the redhead, not caring about the rain. As you got closer to her it became more obvious that she was shivering, her slender body being wracked with chills brought on by the icy winds. Her face was a pale wreck and her eyes are a mess, but as your fingers come to cup her chin, it's the softness of those lips—the way they quivered against and around your touch—that breaks you inside. "Nat," you whispered her name, feeling her skin against yours. "Baby, you’re soaked. What are you doing out here sweetie?"

“I wanted some air, I needed to think.” She mumbled only her voice is different, it was different, not in way that somebody's voice changes when they cry, no. Her voice was strained, the type of voice somebody gets when they’re on the verge of losing it.

“You shouldn’t be out here.” You whispered back whilst pulling Nat towards you, instantly she sank against you, desperate for the warmth which you radiated, not only that, but you also radiated love too, something which you’d both definitely lost a lot of, “You’re going to catch a cold baby, sitting out in this weather isn’t good for you.”

"It’s already too late for that" Natasha's voice trails off into a sob, and a few more tears trickle down her face as she breaks out into a harsh cough prompting you to reach out to rub her back. The weight of everything had gotten too much. You realised then that she’d probably been sick for a while, even after sitting in the rain she should’ve have sounded that bad. You couldn’t say you were surprised though. After the blip she’d been the one pushing herself the hardest. Hardly sleeping either because of forcing herself to stay awake as she desperately searched for a way to bring everyone back or by the nightmares which slowly crept their way into the few moments of sleep she ever managed to scrape.

As she clung to you, Nat's body shook with violent tremors, sending fresh tears coursing down her temples. A shiver dances down her spine as your caress sends an undulating pulse through it. "It’s okay... it’s okay now, baby." But she is not yet okay. She is not okay at all. What’s most frightening about this moment of utter vulnerability is just how long it’s taken for her to reach this point. Her mind had been breaking since that cursed day. Her facade of strength slowly falling apart, “We should get you back inside my love, you need to rest, you can't keep pushing yourself like this.”

“I cant... we cant. They’re relying on us to bring them back, they need us.” She rasps as her face crumbles. Sobbing and coughing together, she slumps further into your open arms, “There’s no time to rest, not whilst they’re gone.” Her point was meant to come across as meaningful and strong but instead it was a pitiful mumble

“Sweetheart...” You sighed as you held her tightly, “as much as you like to think you’re an unstoppable machine that can keep carrying on. You’re not. Machines can break, and that's okay. You’re human Natasha. Please just come back inside with me. You’re not well sweetie and being out here is not going to do you any good.”

“Maybe you’re right…” Nat shifted to sit up on her own, wiping away at the streaks of tears on her face as she sniffles. She turned away from you as she sneezed, the sound made you wince a little – it sounded exhausting, and it made her cough raspily against the wet fabric of her coat which only served to irritate her nose causing her to sneeze again.

“Poor love, you sound absolutely full of a cold,” Your tone was thick with sympathy as you wrapped your arm around her shoulder, gently guiding her towards the door, “Come on my love, I’m gonna look after you sweetheart. We’re going to get you into a warm shower, changed into some comfy pyjamas and then get you tucked up into bed. We’ll find a way to bring everyone back once you’re feeling better, I promise but right now Natasha, you’re all the matters.”

〖 Join My Taglist! 〗@sayah13 @mahalkitanova @romanoffskisser @scrambled-brain-eggs @natashamyl0ve @shin-conan-kun @bloomingflowersthings @kathleenmikaelson @shamelessbearunknown @inluvwithfictionalwomen @ceiestiaie @fluffyblanketgecko @kljhsong @santana1437 @blackwidow-3 @asiangmrchk13

#natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff fanfic #natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff angst #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #sick!natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff sickfic #natasha romanoff whumo #marvel #mcu #avengers #marvel sickfic #marvel whump #natasha romanoff x you #blackwidow x you #blackwidow x reader #blackwidow x y/n #sickfic #whump

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cpt-winters · 10 months

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Amnesia - Whump Snippet

Caretaker's pulse quickened as a quiet groan slipped through Whumpee’s lips. They kept their eyes glued to Whumpee's battered form, lying ghostly still in the bed, until the heart monitor's calm, steady beeps morphed into something loud and erratic.

Their team leader's face bore a wary glance as Caretaker rushed over the second their friend's eyes cracked open.

"Whumpee, you gave us quite a scare." Caretaker tried to ignore how their heart sank a little as they went to lay their hand atop Whumpee's, only for him to squirm under the touch, recoiling his arm.

Leader noted Whumpee's free hand instinctively reaching for his sidearm, his eyes shooting open when his fingers found nothing.

Sensing their second-in-command's rising alarm, Leader took a cautious step forward. "Hey, take it easy Whumpee. You took a big hit today.”

Caretaker's eyes sank at the memory before flickering back to meet Whumpee's own anxious gaze.

“But you’ll be alright. You're in the medbay,” Leader assured. “You can thank Medic for patching you up later.”

Whumpee stared blankly for several moments, absorbing the information. “Medic?” he repeated, the question coming out as more of a hoarse croak than anything else.

Leader gave a hesitant nod, brows furrowing as Whumpee's darting eyes finally settled on Caretaker.

“Who...are you?”

#whump #whump writing #whump snippet #team whump #recovery whump #technically #amnesia whump #memory loss whumo #Whump Thing I Wrote 10 #angst #team dynamics #whump aftermath #hospital whump #military whump

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darkthingshappen · 1 year

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Merry Whump of May, Day 3

@themerrywhumpofmay

“You're not looking so hot.”

Lightbulb

Tension

Alleyway

As always, thank you to my whumperful crew: @whumpcereal @oddsconvert @quietly-by-myself and @sparrowsage who did a fantastic beta job on this and tomorrow's entry. :-)

Warnings: BBU Universe, human trafficking, predator and prey, kidnapping, drinking, noncon drugging, drunk whumpee, whumper perspective

The Handler lingered in the shadows of the alleyway. He knew that any minute the back door of the club would open up and his prey would tumble out of it and he would pounce. The tension built up inside him like a spring waiting to be sprung, a bomb ticking towards the explosion.

The lightbulb above the back doorway flickered slightly, causing the Handler to nearly jump out of his skin with anticipation. But he didn’t. He held himself in check, waiting, waiting, waiting.

The door opened and still he waited. His prey did indeed stumble out of the door and curl over by the wall, retching. This was going exactly as planned. The target was alone. Alone and pathetic, just as the Handler wanted. Still he waited. He waited until the metal back door slammed shut, locking the target out of the club and in the darkened alleyway. The Handler smirked and waited for the realization to hit the ill young man.

His prey swayed heavily as he straightened back up. He groaned and reached for the nonexistent door handle.

“Aw, fuck!” the target glanced around at the dark alley and then up at the single lightbulb over the door. “Shit!” He squinted down the alleyway first one way and then the other.

The Handler had done his homework. He was a student of psychology. In one direction, the alley went on for several dozen meters with no light, so much so that by the time the alley ended, it was completely obscured in inky blackness. The other direction, the direction that the Handler had hidden themselves, was only a few meters long with the bright lights of the populated square beckoning to them. Only an idiot would choose the other direction.

As he predicted, his prey took a deep breath and stepped towards the lighted street and the Handler lying in wait.

The Handler waited for his target to pass. When he did, the Handler, quick as lightning, stepped behind his unsuspecting prey, wrapping his arm around the man’s middle and pulled him against him.

“Where are you off to all on your own, darling?” His words distracted the mildly struggling drunk young man as he slipped the needle into his prey’s neck and depressed the plunger.

The Target grunted and tried to pull away from the sudden prick of pain in his neck, as well as the man holding him

“Shhh, darling. You don’t look so well. I’ll take care of you, don’t worry. You just let go. Rest now. When you wake up, you’ll be snug as a bug in a rug. Don’t you worry. All those pesky choices that life keeps pushing on you, you won’t have to worry about it any more. The WRU’s got you. We got a home already all picked out and waiting for you. You’ve been specially requested.”

The Target moaned again and slumped against the Handler.

“We got you, little trainee.”

The Handler turned his target slightly so he could see the last moments that the prey’s eyes were open. Wide with panic and fear, though fading fast. The Handler thrilled to it. That was the exact look he was hoping for; it was his favorite part of the job.

Once he was sure his target was out, he dragged his prey to his waiting vehicle near the entrance of the alleyway.

“Hey man, is that dude okay?” a random person passing by asked.

“Oh, he’s fine. My buddy just had a bit too much to drink. I’ll get him home and make sure he’s okay.”

“Ah, so you’re the sober friend. Glad he has you. You may want to tell him not to get passed out drunk next time.”

“Yeah for sure, though I think he’s had enough this time. I’m gonna help him dry out. I don’t think there’ll be a next time.”

“Good for you. You seem like a great friend.”

The Handler waived at the bystander as the man walked on, a friendly smile stretched across his face that could fool his own mother. The Handler laid his target out across the backseat, faced down. No one noticed as he slipped the handcuffs on nice and snug around the young man’s wrists, rolling him onto his back to hide the evidence once he was certain they were locked on. He locked his prey’s ankles together in a similar fashion before covering him up with a blanket.

Moments later he was in the driver’s seat, driving off with his new trainee sleeping in the back seat.

Tags: Tagging List: @i-can-even-burn-salad @peachy-panic @deluxewhump @arwenadreamer @whumpcereal @melancholy-in-the-morning @dont-touch-my-soup @whumpsday @keeper-of-all-the-random-things @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @oddsconvert @melennui @susiequaz12 @morning-star-whump @crystalquartzwhump @whump-and-other-things @mylifeisonthebookshelf @reflected-pain @hold-him-down @quietshae @sparrowsage @quietly-by-myself @castielamigos-whump-side-blog @darlingwhump @hold-him-down @quietshae @no-terms-and-conditions-apply (I hope I’m not forgetting anyone - please let me know if I am and I’ll fix it. I’m still getting used to this)

#themerrywhumpofmay #mwm2023 #you're not looking so hot #lightbulb #tension #alleyway #bbu #whump #whumo community #whump writing #whump fic #noncon drugging #mwmday3

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write-stuff-if-you-wanna · 1 year

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My stories please be respectful.

backrooms: part 1, part 2 (coming eventually)

Pet: part 1

Hand it over: part 1

King Villian: part 1

An answer you werent expecting: part 1

Heros birthday: part 1

Car Aciedent: part 1

Whats the truth?: part 1

Siblings: part 1

I dont have plans rn to make part 2’s to all of them i just put “part 1” just in case i ever turn them from one ofs into a series.

#writeblr #my stories #writing #writing prompt #prompt #snippit #short stories #villains and heroes #humans are space australians #hero #villain #hero x villain #heroes and villains #villain x hero #angst #whump prompts #whumo writings

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likeit-or-whumpit · 11 months

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Sheamus torments Jeff Hardy with a keg during their bar fight.

#jeff hardy #sheamus #wwe #wwe gif #wrestling gif #wrestling #prowrestling #jeff hardy gif #wwe whump #wrestling whumo #wrestling blog #wwe edit #wrestling edit #wrestling whump

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emcscared-whumps · 2 years

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WHUMPTOBER 2022 - 1: A Little Out of the Ordinary

"Unconventional Restraints" Whumptober Navigation Post

[(WHUMPY) IMAGE DESCRIPTION]: A young man/mer, Pete, lays in a dark alley with blue backlighting. Dim though warm light streams onto his front, while the same blue comes from behind. He has Caucasian skin, auburn hair, a scar on his left jaw, white and orange scales, webbed hands, and long, pointed ears.

He's been shot with a dart containing a special, glowing pink serum, different than the one hunters normally use. The serum forces shifters to shift, Pete is a mer shifter, and so he collapsed in an alley and is effectively rendered immobile.

He is still half dressed in human clothes-- a tan coat, light green sweater, and white collard shirt that pokes through at the bottom as well. He has propped himself up on one arm, and his red, diamond textured scarf and pale jeans are discarded before him

Since it's not natural, it is an incredibly painful process. Coupled with Pete's damaged fin, it is blinding agony. His whole body is shaking and shuddering, lined with tension. His orange fins are all flared as far as they'll go (and appear spiky), his tail, though it lacks coordination, is taut and curled, and his eyes are closed and face is twisted in a scream.

With his free hand, he reaches for the dart but he can't pull it out because it's barbed and embedded deep within his shoulder.

In the background, there are two silhouettes, hunters approaching their catch. There is also a random parked van.

Edit: uh, it might or might not've been after 0130 that i posted this, but i forgot to mention that this type of dart administers contintual doses that can last up to 48 hours :) it feels like acid in his veins :)), his shift might be finished but his body will keep pushing and hurting him until the dart is out and the serum wears off ^-^

[END DESCRIPTION] (Timelapse below the cut)

Background Image | The Hands I Stole | I forgot to keep the link of the pants lmao they're mine now *evil laughter*

I'll just pretend i remembered his boots/socks and cane and they're just behind him lmao

A timelapse, as a treat for making it through the description lmao :D

(it was brought to my attention that there is a built in timelapse function in csp :eBlurryEyes:)

[VIDEO DESCRIPTION]: A digital art timelapse of the previous image. [END DESCRIPTION]

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