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whumpshaped · 10 months

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Another overly specific prompt: winged whumpee’s wings get preened for the first time when they fall into caretaker’s hands <3. Bonus points for concerned caretaker and for whumpee being nervous because preening is vulnerable. Yes this is self indulgent, no I’m not sorry. ~🐸

tw winged whumpee, past trauma, mention of broken bones

Whumpee stared at the floor in front of them in flustered silence. They were fidgeting with the little toy Caretaker had given them, specifically so they wouldn't have to focus on the feeling of a relative stranger touching the most vulnerable parts of their body.

It wasn't right. This was supposed to be done by their best friend. By their mate. Everything in their mind and body screamed at them to get away, but they forced themself to stay still and let the stranger help. They needed their wings taken care of after years of neglect.

"I know this isn't ideal. I'm sorry." Caretaker leaned forward, trying to sneak a peek at Whumpee's face. Whumpee instinctively tried to turn away and hide it. "But it's not super horrible, is it? I'm trying to be as gentle as I can."

"It's– It's fine."

Whumpee glanced at Caretaker, tensing up when they saw them frown. Was that not the right thing to say?

"Alright," they said anyway before getting back to work. "But really, tell me if it hurts. They're... not in good condition."

"I'm sorry."

"No, it's not your fault. I'm not mad at you. I'm just... worried. And sad. I wish someone helped you earlier."

"Oh."

Minutes passed in silence again, Caretaker focusing on the task at hand, and Whumpee counting the floorboards. They chastised themself for not being able to relax. If they could've put that horrible, nervous feeling aside, they might've been able to enjoy it even. It was so silly to be so scared of something so harmless. Something that was supposed to help them.

"They broke them," Whumpee blurted out.

"Sorry?"

Whumpee held their breath. They shouldn't talk about it. Not to yet another human. But the urge to explain their reactions was too great. "They t-told me they would help. I thought– I thought they were genuine. And then they broke my wings. Laughed at me. Called me naive."

Whumpee felt Caretaker's hands come to a stop, and then disappear from their wings entirely. "Whumpee... I'm so sorry. I didn't know. I... Do I remind you of them?"

They hesitated. "A little," they admitted eventually. "You said the same thing. It was scary. I wanted to run." They held up the fidget toy, then dropped their hand back in their lap again. "They didn't give me anything. They hurt me as soon as I got within arm's reach. So... I thought you might be different."

"I would never hurt you, Whumpee. Not intentionally. I really am trying to help you."

"I know," they said hastily. "I know. I, I understand. It's very kind of you. I'm... I'm just scared."

Caretaker didn't reply for a moment. "Oh, sorry. I was nodding back here. I forgot you couldn't– never mind. I forgot you couldn't see me." Whumpee smiled a little. "I, um, I get that. The anxiety." Another pause. "I hope it gets better."

It was Whumpee's turn to nod. They appreciated the sentiment, but they had a horrible feeling that it wasn't entirely dependent on them, or even Caretaker. It would get better, if they managed to avoid humans in the future.

Well, at least mean ones.

"Can I continue?" Caretaker asked gently.

"Um, y-yeah. Yeah."

"Okay." The hands returned, but this time, Whumpee felt like they could be more at ease. "Just tell me to stop at any time, and we'll take a break." Whumpee hummed in agreement.

Maybe it would be okay.

#asks #distract me prompts #angel in training anon #winged whumpee #nonhuman whumpee #broken bones mention #past trauma

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k1ngtok1 · 2 years

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I like to imagine that Elemental Masters of Earth are more prone to breaking their bones than other elementals- not because they’re brittle or anything, but rather because the amount of force needed to facilitate the master’s hysterical strength (which can be defined as a point where your muscles operate at 100% capacity rather than a much more reasonable amount due to heightened adrenaline in extremely stressful situations)/enhanced strength that comes with their powerset is greater than what a human’s bones can withstand. This means they have a tendency to break their own bones by exerting themselves too much.

However, I’d also like to think, through virtue of their element and the metals/minerals in the things we eat, that their bones repair themselves and become stronger than they were before, now reinforced by iron and other small amounts of precious metals and stone. Earth elementals probably have a hunger for iron-rich foods, or may even show signs of iron-deficiency because of this.

There’s a reason that normal human’s bones don’t do something similar to this, though. When a normal human’s bones break and then repair, they come back stronger for a period of time before they are whittled down to the correct thickness. If another accident were to occur in that area, the previously-broken bone’s new strength could mean that rather than it breaking, another, more important structure breaks instead, leading to disastrous consequences and further injury.

In other words: Cole drinks his Bone Hurty Juice regularly

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whump-queen · 1 year

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you could break Anyone's wristswith surprising ease

(ok this is actually true)

gon break you like a rice crispy

snap crackle pop babeyyyy✨💥

#I look pretty twinky irl so it does surprise people just how many ways I know how to break wrists and arms ^.^#not me yesterday trying to teach this 9 y/o kid how to do wrist locks like #like ‘ok uhh so the arm bar will put a little pressure on the back of the elbow.. but if we were to go full force.. it would um— hurt a lot #tryna not scare the poor kid w like ‘yyYYEAHH WE BREAKIN *BONES* TODAY YEEAHH’#aaa I wish the internet and the world wasn’t the way it is cuz I would totally make a tutorial on all the ways you can snappy snap #I might see if there’s a way to do tutorial gifs without showing face cuz I have shown my hands on here before #akias asks #answered asks #ask game #tw broken bones #broken bones mention

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galaxywhump · 1 year

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does wren experience any chronic/psychosomatic pain from previous injuries like having his fingers broken?

Daniel made sure every injury Wren had would heal properly, so he doesn't experience any consistent pain. However he does experience pain when he spirals and his traumatic memories overwhelm him - sometimes his fingers hurt, sometimes the area around his lips, where Daniel had stitched them shut, stings and tingles, he gets headaches. He also gets really painfully tense, just like he used to be with Daniel.

#asks #mouth gore mention #thanks for the ask!#broken bones mention

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whumpy-arts-and-crafts · 2 years

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Aurum how would you like it if I broke your kneecaps?

The supervillain raises an eyebrow. "Wouldn't appreciate it much, that would be inconvenient." He admits. "Though, I doubt you could. Maybe double check who you're talking to before making bold threats, hm?"

#whump #whump community #whumpblr #villain whump #supervillain whumper #broken bones mention #aurum is a cocky bastard #ask aurum #bound series

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themightywolftiger · 2 years

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Aftermath

Mighty didn’t remember much of the past 24 hours (or had it been longer?) It was hard to tell).

What the hybrid did remember was the beginning of this story and where she was now.... However, Everything in-between was a blur drenched in river water, blood, an inky mass, and bones fixed then broken again.

A tired hiss came from the hybrid. There wasn’t a point in getting up right now. Mighty’s entire lower body was shot as this point. The exhaustion from the kidnapping, the dragging, and the fight all weighed heavy on the burnt bones.

Mighty stared up at the stormy sky and watched as lightning arced across. Once the lightning dissipated, parts of the sky opened to reveal the swirly, starry night sky.

Another growl escaped from Mighty as the hybrid tensed up. Slowly, the hybrid raised her hand to her face. A silent groan of pain came from the furball as she rubbed her hand down her face.

The itch of the passing full moon still lingered underneath fur and flesh; The humanity still returning to Mighty’s upper half.

Slowly, awkwardly, Mighty forced herself to sit up. The dizziness of hitting the roof still weighing heavily on her sore muscles and groggy mind.

With a heavy wheeze, Mighty looked around the wooden rooftop. The hybrid’s bloodshot but still yellow eyes narrowed as she tried to look for the others: For Alka and Niko.

Mighty flinched a bit as she tried to turn herself around. There wasn’t a point in moving any further than where she was now. Everything hurt too much.

It was hard to tell if either of the two were still there. Mighty slightly cursed the loss of her natural night vision.

Despite the light drizzle, Mighty continued to lay on the wooden roof of the tower base.

There wasn’t much of a point in moving.

After all, Mighty’s leg was broken once again. It was a miracle that Mighty’s body wasn’t in shock from the flesh tearing bite and rebroken bone.

Mighty let out a wheeze and reclosed her eyes. There was no point in trying to call out to the others. One of them will wake up soon.

Hopefully, the right one will wake up.

#trafficsona #trafficblr #Actual writing? It's more likely than you think #broken bones mention #cw: injury #cw: blood #Poor mighty is injured #she's better now?#Haha :)?

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enbleu-19 · 2 years

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i broke two bones :/

in a left arm sling && a left knee imobilizer

ow :(

// je me suis cassé deux os :/

dans une écharpe du bras gauche et un immobilisateur du genou gauche

owh :(

#txt #txt.english #txt.français #injury mention #broken bones mention #.#remind me to write ab it later /rhet

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bones-of-a-rabbit · 1 month

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afton'd reader sets a man up to be straight up point blank Murdered and honestly, good for them, wish i could do that when someone flirts with me when im working smh

(i say that like i've been flirted with more than maybe two times in four years of customer service type shit)

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nerdpoe · 9 months

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A Jotunn, a Pirate, and a Wraith walk into the DC Universe-(part 3, final)

Part 1, Part 2, Ao3

Jason was shit out of luck.

He was out of bullets, down a leg, Damian had gotten himself knocked unconscious, and they were still completely surrounded.

Jason still nudged the youngest Bat as far behind him as he could.

He'd been the only one close enough when the word that Ra's had finally managed to kidnap Damian had reached him, and was still too late to spare the kid from the League of Assassin's particular version of a warm welcome.

He'd still been the first on scene, and fuck him for admitting it, but Bruce had been right.

He should have waited for backup.

Because he had not only fucked himself, but he'd also screwed over Damian.

The League began to close in.

And Jason had nowhere else to run.

He back was quite literally to a pit, and everywhere else was filled with League Assassins.

Jason forced himself to stand back up.

With one hand braced against the ledge of the pit, he shifted so that his weight was on his unbroken leg.

The blood running down his arm dripped into the Lazarus Pit, he took only a brief moment to watch it mix with the vibrant green.

'If I don't get out of this,' Jason thought as he turned away and back towards their enemies, 'Then at least let me fall in the Pit so I can make the Pay.'

The League Assassins...started taking steps back.

Jason, against his better judgement, turned his head just enough to peek behind him.

Then he turned around so hard he accidentally threw himself to the ground.

There was something rising from the Lazarus Pit.

It...looked like a man, ascending into the air until his feet didn't touch the green Waters he hovered above.

The air, which had had at least a small bit of movement from crossbreezes and rising heat, went completely still, and the scent of blood and ozone polluted the air.

White hair flickered like fire, licking at the air. The man's clawed hands flexed, and his dead dead dead red eyes bore into Jason's soul. His skin was blue, but wasn't that normal?

All corpses had a blue tint to them, after all.

And Jason had seen so fucking many.

The man's clothes appeared to be tactical in nature, or they had been at one point. They were battered, stained, burned. There was a shawl of sorts that clung to him through no visible means, it's ends turning into a wispy mist that shrouded and outlined the man in equal measure.

He floated soundlessly, not even pretending to take any steps as he moved forward, those glowing red eyes completely focused on the buffet of prey in front of him.

Jason could actually hear some of the Assassins attempting to run.

Hell, he could feel the Pit within him cowering.

The man in front of him was fucking dangerous.

Everything about him screamed Pain. Every movement was restrained, like a panther going in for a kill.

Then the man smiled; a cruel thing that Jason had seen on far too many people. The kind of people he hunted, the kind of people he hired, the kind of person he'd become.

And between one blink and the next, the man was working to prove that he could deliver pain and cruelty just as well as he could threaten it, deep, harsh laughter bouncing off of the walls of the cave; even as he was decorating said walls red.

Lightning lit up the cavern, illuminating just how well the new red paintjob on the walls matched the mans eyes, and Jason looked away. He instead used that opportunity to check on Damian.

He ignored the screaming and the begging, the wet noises and charred flesh scents, and came to the satisfactory conclusion that Damian would be alright with medical treatment.

Then, as Jason managed to drag himself yet again into a standing position, it was done. Everything had fallen silent, and the man was standing in front of him with a sneering smile that was all fangs and satisfaction.

"Hey kid," the man said, snapping his blood-covered fingers in Jason's face, "Pay up."

Jason jerked back, almost blacking out as he twisted his broken leg.

"Pay you...with what, motherfucker? I'm broke as shit and I sure as fuck didn't summon you." Jason lied through his teeth when he successfully fought off the light-headedness. He was, like, pretty sure material wealth didn't mean much to Spirits.

Which he was fairly certain was what this was.

Blood, Lazarus Water, intense Desire and Will?

Probably accidentally a summoning.

One Jason absolutely refused to take responsibility for.

"Oh no, you don't get to fuckin' lie to me," the man-spirit-thing rumbled, resting a hand on Jason's chest, "I just did all that work for you, you ungrateful shitstain, I deserve a snack at least."

Then the hand plunged into his chest, and Jason became painfully aware that Damian was absolutely awake when he heard the kid scream his name.

His first name.

Fuck, he was gonna die, wasn't he?

But it didn't hurt. There wasn't even any additional blood, really.

Then the man ripped his arm back, and in his hand he held...a very angry green blob?

Which he then ate.

"Fuck, that's some potent shit. Thanks for the liquor kid; you're too young for it anyways."

With that, the man disappeared entirely.

Jason slid to the ground and largely ignored Damian's desperate pawing at his chest.

What the absolute shit had just happened?

The other half of what the man had said caught up to his brain just as the rest of the family came barging in.

"...But I am old enough to drink!"

#Jotunn!Danny #Pirate!Dani #Wraith!Dan #dcxdp #dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #phanfic #blood tw #gore tw #broken bones tw #corpse mention #Dan will always be a bit feral and unhinged #because that is the nature of vengeance #the only reason he can be even slightly redeemed is because of the lightning aspect #otherwise vengeance spirits are pretty much completely unreasonable

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adrift-in-thyme · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 28: “We might not make it to the morning; so go on and tell me now”

Read it on Ao3

- Time/Malon

- Summary: an injured Link shows up at Lon Lon Ranch

CW for blood and injury, mentions of death and broken bones

——————————

Malon’s hands never shake.

She can’t afford for them to. Sure, there are times when they are a bit unsteady from exhaustion or stress. Sure, there are things that scare her enough to make them trembling a possibility. But in her world, when things get hairy there is only action and no time for anything else.

Now is no different. At least, that’s what she keeps telling herself. Her hands don’t tremble, even as blood oozes over them. Her thoughts don’t falter. No tears fall.

But they want to. Oh, they want to. Because this time feels so very different. She has dealt with wounded animals before and even wounded people (she will never forget the time Ingo got kicked in the leg by Epona; satisfying though it may have been after the man’s behavior, setting that bone wasn’t exactly what she would call enjoyable). Never before, however, has she held the broken body of someone she cares for quite so much.

“You’re an idiot, fairy boy,” she breathes as she presses another cloth to the gash running across her friend’s middle.

“‘m your idiot, though,” he mumbles back. Even now there is characteristic mischief peeking out from behind the exhaustion and pain straining his tone.

Malon rolls her eyes.

Link has been bleeding all over her nice, clean floors and furniture for at least five minutes now. And that’s after he rode in, slumped over Epona’s back, one hand pressed to his stomach, the other clutching the horse’s reins like a lifeline.

He had come because he had nowhere else to go, he had said when she had stepped out onto the porch, eyes wide and heart in her throat. Because he could think of nowhere else that would be safe. Where he would be accepted without hesitation.

And as she had helped him down from the saddle, as he had practically collapsed onto her arms, he had apologized. Assured her he would take care of the wound himself, if only she would provide him a place to stay. As though he were a stranger in her home and not her best friend.

“Oh, shush,” she had scolded, ushering him into the house and lowering him onto the nearest chair. “I’ll take care of everything. You just sit down.”

And meekly, he had obeyed.

Now, he watches her with a slightly dazed look, as she tries to save his life.

For that is what she is doing, really. If she doesn’t get this wound to stop bleeding soon, he’ll bleed out.

As it is, she’s afraid he won’t last the night.

She worries her bottom lip and reaches behind her for the bandages lying on the table.

“Care to tell me how this happened?” The sharp bite of fear is in her tone despite her attempts to restrain it.

And really, who cares at this point, anyway? Her fairy boy is hurt, badly. She’s allowed to be a little worried.

Link drags in an unsteady breath.

“Monster fight.”

“The usual, then.” She shakes her head, sighing. “What I wanna know is what kinda monster fight was it that got you this hurt? I don’t think you’ve ever come around looking like this before.”

Link blinks, long and slow. The blue of his eyes seems unnaturally bright. Maybe because of the light, maybe because of pain. Malon thinks it’s likely both. But it almost reminds her of that little fairy that used to follow him around.

“Did you go into a dungeon or somethin’?”

Her gaze is back on her work, now, as she ties the bandages as tightly as possible. But when he speaks she can hear something almost like guilt in his voice.

“I—” A sharp hiss, fingers fisting in the fabric of his tunic. Malon murmurs an apology, trying to ignore the way the sound is like a dagger to her heart. “I was looking for…for something.”

“Lookin’ for something huh?”

She ties off the gauzy strips of fabric now practically holding the man together and takes a moment to survey her work.

That should hold.

Now, to get that bleeding firmly under control before he passes out…or worse. She grasps the bottle of potion that she had snatched from the cupboard earlier. It’s always handy, she has found, for times when the healing power of Lon Lon milk isn’t quite up to par. Times like now.

“That had better have been one important treasure. Did you get it at least?”

A small smile lifts Link’s lips. Somehow, it doesn’t make him look any more alive. He’s too pale, too ashen. There’s too much blood, coating his tunic, coating his hands and dribbling down from his mouth and nose.

But at least he has the strength to smile. Malon is willing to appreciate small miracles.

“Yeah, I got it.”

Something in the way he says it makes her slightly suspicious. But she hardly has time to figure out why. She wipes her hands on a nearby cloth, quickly so as not to take in just how stark the crimson looks against the white. Then, she uncorks the potion bottle and gets to her feet.

Link moves trembling, crimson drenched fingers toward the bottle. But she shakes her head.

“Uh-uh. You’re weak. Let me.”

With one careful hand, she tips his chin up and holds the bottle to his lips with the other. He swallows its contents obediently.

“That should help,” she says, once he’s finished. She turns away, setting the bottle back on the table. “At the very least you won’t be bleeding everywhere anymore.”

“Thanks,” he murmurs. He sounds a bit stronger already, she thinks. But maybe she’s just fooling herself to distract from the worry currently chewing a hole in her gut.

“Anytime, fairy boy.”

Malon inspects the wound one more time, reassuring herself that it’s no longer in danger of bleeding through the bandages. Thankfully, the potion already seems to be doing its job. The bandages remain a clean, cottony white.

“Looks like you’re out of the danger zone,” she says with a sigh of relief. “But you’re gonna need some rest and a new set of clothes.”

She looks over him once more, frowning. He raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

“I’m gonna have to tend to those other wounds of yours too. I swear, you look like you let the horses trample you.”

There is a distinct twinkle in his eye now. Already, he is beginning to look a little more like himself.

“Ah, it’s a…a good look then. A seasoned adventurer kind of look.”

Her lips quirk up even as she glares at him.

“No. It’s not a good look. I thought that much was implied. And it’s the kind that gives me a heart attack.”

He grins. But it quickly turns into a grimace as she sets about cleaning a cut along his neck. Gently, she tilts her head to get a better look at it.

“Stay still, now, and let me work.”

He mumbles a tired-sounding reply. His eyes are beginning to drift closed, despite his efforts to keep them open. And as she tackles each injury, he grows closer and closer toward losing his grip on consciousness completely. But the time he is cleaned up and she has managed to help him fumble into one of Talon’s spare tunics he is practically asleep.

“There,” she murmurs, setting aside the bowl of water and multiple cloths that she had used. They tinge the water pink. “Feelin a little better now?”

She knows that she is. The terror of earlier has abated somewhat, every steady breath, every beat of his heart convincing her that the danger is gone. At least, for now.

For now, her fairy boy is safe. For now, her hands don’t shake.

He hums, sleepily. His gaze is trained on the fireplace now, seemingly mesmerized by the flames dancing there. But when she drapes a blanket over him he drags his gaze up to meet hers.

“Hey, Mal.”

“Yeah?”

“I…I think I’m in love with you.” He frowns, thought obviously a difficult task at the moment. “No…know I am.”

Malon stops short, edges of the blanket still clutched in her suddenly shaky hands. A short bark of laughter escapes, a bit louder than she means it to be.

“I think you’ve lost a little bit too much blood.”

“‘m fine,” he retorts, scowling. “Malon ‘m serious. I love you.”

Shaking her head, she tucks the blanket up around his chin and presses a quick kiss to his cheek.

“Alright, fairy boy. It’s time for you to get some sleep. We can pick up this conversation in the morning.”

His scowl becomes decidedly pouty, though he has little choice but to comply. His eyes slip closed, breath beginning to even out.

By the time, Malon has cleaned up the gory mess (she never wants to see this much blood again, especially not from him), and put away her tools, he is long gone. She allows herself a moment to gaze at him, slumbering peacefully, face illuminated by the flickering flames. He is less pale now and with the blood gone he looks more human. Younger, more like himself.

Reaching out, she rubs her thumb on his cheek, a smile playing on her lips.

“I love you too, Link.”

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bonefall · 10 months

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Are you going to keep Goosefeather's curse? If so are you going to change anything about it? From my memory the book was... depressing.

It will probably get rolled into Pinestar's Crusade, building it up into an SE rather than just a novella. There's actually a lot going on in that specific moment, and it makes sense to go over it all at once.

So to answer your question, yes, most of Goosefeather's Curse is staying. Most of the Crusade Generation have depressing stories to tell. If the Thistle Period is defined by the fact that Thistle Law metastasized and went terminal, and if the Campaign Era was when it was newly born, then the Crusade Era was when it was first conceived.

I've been thinking about Pinestar's Crusade idly and mentioned it a few times, but here's my fragments so far;

PINESTAR'S CRUSADE (Fuses Pinestar's Choice and Goosefeather's Curse)

We start in the Crusade Era; there is now more focus on 3 major characters, though it's still built around Pinestar as the POV

Pinestar, Goosefeather, and eventually Pinepaw's apprentice Speckletail.

Pinepaw is born into the start of the Crusades, a bloody period where the Clans are invading Chelford and brutalizing cats in the hopes of appeasing StarClan. He only begins to learn the full story of what happened in Darkstar's Commandment once he begins going to Gatherings as a warrior

The truth being that Oakstar came up with this idea because he couldn't take an L

But even as an apprentice, it becomes quickly apparent to him that what they're doing is evil. They were brutalizing kittypets who aren't trained to fight back.

During his first raid as an apprentice, he allows a ginger-and-white mother and her kittens to escape

This came back years later, when that queen, Crystal, forms BloodClan in response to the Crusades.

Pineheart watches Oakstar die barely a year later to the queen he saved, using early claw extenders to cut right through him. Even if he hadn't been on his last life, it would have ended him.

But, Crystal lets Pineheart go, recognizing the Clan cat who had saved her life.

Watching his dad die along with several friends, and countless more innocent Chelford, plus being released by Crystal, is a Formative Moment.

Doestar continues the Crusades in the name of revenge for Oakstar, but now that BloodClan exists and is ARMED, the easy raids become bloodbaths.

They slowly peter out, not with a bang but with a whimper. She never announces an official end, eventually she just stops organizing them. No one gets closure, especially not Pineheart.

But the 'peace' doesn't last. Just before Heatherstar takes power from Smallstar and begins the Campaign to take the Mothermouth Moorland, ThunderClan deals with the Great Hunger

Pineheart and Goosefeather become very good friends, part of a little buddy group that also included Tawnyspots and Pheasantfeather (who will become One-eye later)

Pineheart was given his first apprentice, a rowdy little one and the niece of Doestar, Specklepaw. He's tasked with helping her fill the pawsteps of greatness she's destined to walk in.

Just like canon, Goose predicts the Great Hunger... though, he is an adult this time around because of some timeline changes.

And, like canon, it fails. They couldn't stockpile enough food to last an entire year of famine, a scorching summer and a frozen winter, they end up losing a huge stock of their food as if it was destiny.

Goosefeather was forced into a role he hates, given horrible visions of the future, and argues ferociously with Pineheart; if they hadn't tried to stockpile, they wouldn't have lost all that food to begin with.

It is in this moment, he comes to realize that every time he's fought back and used his visions like a warning, it's backfired.

So, perhaps, they are instruction.

But, meanwhile, Pineheart can't loose his apprentice or his friends. While others were hunting desperately, he was keeping cats alive through scouting for grubs, foraying into other territories, and...

Every bite of kittypet food he took for himself was a morsel in someone else's mouth. But this... this he kept quiet.

It started a "bad habit" he could never break.

Having lost the previous deputy to starvation and on her deathbed, Doestar nominates Pineheart to the position. He was shocked and upset by this, but he was the obvious choice.

Son of Oakstar, Hero of the Hunger, the cat who had kept Specklepaw alive when all the other kits and apprentices starved.

But, Pinestar took the helm to extreme controversy.

Everything Pinestar's ever done that worked was nonviolent. He's never seen battle do anything but bring harm, and the thought of leading people into war... it makes him feel sick.

But the rest of the Clan can't see what he sees. They yearn for the glory days (even though they were not glorious at all), itch to die for a cause, and leave this old, disgusting subsistence survival behind them. ThunderClan wants blood and Pinestar just wants peace.

Taking back Sunningrocks is an example of this. To avoid losing Clanmates, he proposed to Hailstar that they would have a Joust, instead.

ThunderClan's strongest against RiverClan's strongest. Adderfang vs Mudfur.

It didn't go well.

The problem with those sorts of situations is you have to abide by the deal. RiverClan took Sunningrocks for 6 months. It was humiliating for ThunderClan.

Even the cats he'd saved from the famine were furious with him

The only things that DID seem to please the Clan was when he would throw them fully into battle. Such as Goosefeather's prophecy that WindClan's herbs needed to be destroyed...

Every time a situation like that happened, where Goosefeather would phrase things as a Holy Struggle, Pinestar was thrown right back to the Crusades

Terrified eyes, screeching, cats begging for mercy, his father dead at his paws and feeling horror and relief swirling

Sitting vigil for old friends killed in these horrible fights, like Moonflower, it made him feel like how he felt the day he buried Oakstar.

And the bile rose in his throat, remembering that Oakstar was not there at his Leadership Ceremony, damned to the Dark Forest.

A thought was born, here. What does StarClan truly want? What do they expect of him? If they will send the architect of the Crusades there...

What of a cat who stayed fed on human food and fed grubs to his Clanmates? Or a leader who never knows the right thing to do?

When Mumblefoot retired and Sunfall became deputy, the Clan seemed to love him more than Pinestar. He found himself just... sitting back, and allowing Sunfall to call the shots.

It was towards the end, when Leopardfoot proposed an Honor Siring. He was from a glorious legacy, she wanted kits... and on his end, he wanted the peace that raising kittens could bring.

The warmth of human dens was calling him, but perhaps the warmth of love for children could keep him home.

UNLIKE CANON; Nothing about Tigerkit was born evil.

There was no StarClan vision of Tigerstar; Goosefeather knew full well that Thistlestar was the Leader of Prophecy.

But Pinestar would never give Thistleclaw an apprentice in time. Nor would he ever give his own little son to a cat as vicious as him.

Goosefeather never hurt anyone... but Pinestar just needed a push.

Pinestar was already anxious, unhappy, clinging to the goodness that was his little kits. Even as two of them were lost to minor illnesses, shortly after receiving their names.

It wasn't a lie. It was just half of the truth.

"Pinestar... you have a choice to make. StarClan has given me a vision of blood and war, and Tigerkit will have a role to play in it."

He DID have a vision... of Thistlestar. Not Tigerkit. But that was enough for Pinestar, his fear and trauma took the helm from there.

He'd seen his friends, his apprentice, the kits who had been born and died in his rule, all of them turn into the monsters Clan Culture demanded

Nothing he did ever seemed to work, why would THIS moment be different?

How could he prevent Tigerkit from becoming like that too?! Was StarClan telling him to KILL his son??

Pinestar's never had a vision from StarClan. He doesn't have the aptitude like a Cleric... what he has is a nightmare, of Tigerkit growing so large he crushes the whole camp under his claws

After a week of agony, Pinestar unknowingly creates a prophecy of his own,

"Can only the death of a child break fate?"

Sensing he was close to victory, Goosefeather dipped his head, not denying his question.

And it's the last straw.

And that is the climax of Pinestar's Crusade. Broken from his experiences, every turn taken for peace causing him more pain, the idea that he might have to hurt his own son plaguing his mind, he makes the choice to leave.

It wasn't hard, he'd still had that old bad habit of taking bites of kittypet food, a couple friends on the other side. But what he doesn't know is that by leaving with his life... he prevents Sunstar from acquiring his own.

Sunstar had ONE single life, StarClan was not able to give him more with the previous leader still alive. For leaving his Clan, for unknowingly preventing the transfer of power, and for dismissing the Warrior Code, Pinestar is sent to the Dark Forest after his death.

He can choose to walk there, or spend time in the mortal plane as just a spirit, but StarClan offers him no place in the cosmos.

#Pinestar's Crusade #Better Bones AU #So yeah it's still depressing LMAO sorryyyy #im a sucker for the theme where someone you raised and loved became part of an evil system #failure to protect. How COULD you have done differently? Was there anything at all that could have saved them?#i've mentioned it before but I love Pinestar most as the foil of Firestar #and it's very underexplored as an idea #How Firestar succeeded where Pinestar failed #Literally like a brighter version of you #someone who never gave up past the point where you would have broken #and how painful and uncomfortable that idea must be #It doesssss things to me #Also I am still shuffling the timeline #Pinestar might end up being old enough to remember Mapleshade... BUT we'll see #It might be pretty funny to have Pinepaw watch his dad take several Ls in Darkstar's Commandment #''this is my cringefail boomer dad who I have a complicated relationship to. he cannot swim. oh god. oh fuck''

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snowe-zolynn-rogers · 19 days

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What kind of things did eclipse go through when being bought and sold?

Unspeakable things. Abuse of all forms. Torture, broken bones, manipulation, gaslighting, beatings, ect. Basically the only thing that his owners wouldn't do was cut dismemberment, since him being in one piece was in the agency's selling clause.

#sun and moon show #sams #five nights at freddy's #fnaf #bid to lose au #fnaf eclipse #fnaf abuse mention #tw torture mention #tw broken bones mention #tw injury mention #tw manipulation mention #tw dismemberment mention

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befuddled-calico-whump · 6 months

Text

Hand in Hand (part eight)

@whumptober Alt. 12: Broken

cw: broken bones (didn't see that coming did you :) ), death mention, deathwish

prev ///// au masterlist ///// next

~ ~ ~

He's on the verge of sleep when he hears noise outside the room; shuffling, muted voices, the click of the lock.

It's time to act.

Dan knows nothing is optimal about the situation; he'll be outnumbered for sure, and even if he wasn't, he'd already be at a significant disadvantage from his physical condition. Surprise is the only tool he has, and once he uses it, he knows he can't hesitate. It's all or nothing. Escape now, or die trying. Better that than this unlife Swift has him trapped in.

He'll wait for them to unlock his restraints, of course. He'll probably even let them get a good distance down the hall, let them sink into the complacency of routine, then he'll make his gambit. If there's only two guards this time, he stands a fighting chance. Hell, even with three, he might just be desperate enough to pull it off. And if he fails... if he fails, he can only hope that she doesn't let Wes suffer for it for long.

Dan closes his eyes, breathing slow and quiet as the door swings open. If he feigns sleep, will they be put more at ease?

"Good afternoon, Mr. Melchior."

His eyes fly open, and he turns his head fast enough that his previously-subdued headache flares back to life, making him wince.

The guards are here, but they aren't alone. Mercury Swift is at their side, smiling down at him.

A sick feeling begins to coil in his stomach, his body sensing a wrongness before his mind can catch up. It's okay, he tells himself. Don't panic. Let her say her piece and save the plan for next time.

But what is her piece? She's never come directly to his room like this, he's always been brought to her. Is she here to make threats? Tell him how she'll be puppeting him at the next meeting?

"Is it already afternoon?" he replies, the words scraping against his throat as they leave it. He doesn't care.

"Ah, forgive me. It must be difficult to tell the time from in here."

"What do you want?" He's too tired to carry the banter for long. He just wants her to spit it out and leave him alone.

To his surprise, she doesn't chastise him for being impolite. "Straight to the point, then." Her smile widens. "I've been doing some thinking these last few days."

Dan's heartbeat is speeding up, thrumming in his chest. He tries to ignore it.

"Since your little... escape stunt, I've realized it's not possible to be too careful."

Breathe. Keep breathing.

Swift turns to one of the guards. "Alright, send him in."

The Riot King leaves, and Dan's chest tightens. Him. Wes? Is she about to force him to watch another fucking demonstration?

But when the door swings back open, it's just another guard, this one holding a heavy metal pipe. His stomach drops.

"Right leg, I think," Swift says to him, then sits back and watches Dan pull uselessly at his chains as the man and the weapon close in on him.

"No..." He needs to think, needs to find a way out of this. "Swift, please," he gulps down air, mind frantic for any words that might sway her. "You've already punished me for the escape, th-this isn't necessary--"

"It isn't a punishment, it's security," she murmurs, sounding disinterested.

"What about the meetings?" he tries. The man reaches the bed. "What will your allies think?"

"You don't need to walk to be useful to me," Swift says. "And is a broken leg really so uncommon?"

The pipe raises, and Dan isn't sure if it's the Riot King holding it that's dragging out the moment, or his own panic. Any plans he has, any hope of making it out, will shatter with the bone. Forget fighting, how will he walk? How will he carry Wes?

"Please!" he cries, jerking on the chains, causing nothing but a sharp clink. "Please, don't do this, I won't do it again, I swear--"

"It's your leg or your friend's," Swift replies. "Make your choice."

The obvious choice is Wes. If Wes can't walk, that's fine. Dan can take care of him. If Dan can't walk, they're both doomed. But even as he opens his mouth, he can't say it.

Spare me. Hurt him instead. Break his leg, make him scream and tell him it's because of me.

He can't. His body is recoiling more from the thought of that than the thought of being hurt.

He can't be responsible for any more of Wes's pain.

He inhales shakily. "No. Don't hurt him."

"That's what I thought."

Dan closes his eyes.

He hears it before he feels it. A brief whoosh as the pipe cuts the air, followed by a sharp sound that's more crunch than crack.

At first, the pain is surreal. A distant, impossible explosion, so bright it hurts his eyes. The air in his lungs freezes, the air in his throat chokes him, and for a moment he can't even scream. His leg, just below his knee, is engulfed in something jagged and inescapable, like someone is taking a cheese grater to the bone.

He barely feels himself being unchained, trying to hold as still as possible to avoid making his leg any worse, and when a hand closes around his wrist, yanking him off the bed, he doesn't even think to fight it.

His now-broken leg is the first thing to hit the ground, and Dan screams, crumpling into a heap. He bangs his head on the bedframe in his haste to take weight off the limb, but he doesn't feel it. Hands catch hold of him from either side, hoisting him back up, and even though he's careful not to let his bad leg touch the ground, the pain is almost enough to steal his consciousness.

He wishes it would.

The guards start walking, dragging him with them, and every little shift is enough to make him cry out. Every bit of strength that remains in him is devoted to keeping the bad leg off the ground, no room left for wondering where they're taking him, wondering what comes next.

Somehow, there's still room for fear. Not the overthinking, frantic planning Dan's used to, but a blind, pain-driven panic.

The movement suddenly stops, and then he's being shoved forward, into colder air, onto rough concrete. The impact with the ground goes right to the shattered bone, sending a sharp wave of nausea through him, and for a long while he can do nothing but lie as still as possible and gasp for air.

He doesn't know how long it takes for his body to get used to the worst of the pain, his consciousness finally pulling back its focus from his leg as it accepts this as his new state.

He's in the cell. Subconsciously, he already knew that, but now that he's actually aware of it, he lifts his head, eyes sweeping the dim room until they land on Wes. The other man is curled up tightly, with his back to Dan. His ribcage is heavily bruised, his skin layered with unhealed welts. Every breath must be agony, but he is still breathing. Still alive. Dan isn't sure if that's a mercy anymore.

He inches towards Wes, pulling on the concrete with his hands, pushing off with his good leg. The movement, however slow, is excruciating, grating against the fragmented bone like the teeth of a predator, but he keeps going, breathing through tightly clenched teeth, not trying to stop the tears from pouring down his face.

This might be it. This might be the last of the time he has with Wes, and he isn't about to waste it. Inch by inch, foot by foot, Dan drags himself across the cell floor, the pain in his leg building to a howl long before he reaches his friend.

But he does reach him. Shuddering, panting, crying, but he's there.

"Wes..?" He reaches out, carefully lays a trembling hand on his shoulder. There's no indication that Wes is conscious, but his bare skin is cold, so Dan shifts again, wincing through the movement, until he's tucked up behind him, chest to back, one arm draped carefully over his side. His leg is throbbing, but Dan holds as still as he can, not wanting to agitate the wounds on Wes's back, the ones he caused.

Fuck, how did things get this bad?

How could his own men hate him enough to let them both suffer like this? How could Swift be so cruel? How could he be stupid enough to let it happen, to let Wes drag himself into it, to not escape when he had the chance? How?

He's truly lost all control. The plan he'd had was a last resort brought on by desperation, but it was still his, it was still something he could've done, even if it was destined to fail.

Now there's nothing he can do. He's whatever Swift wants him to be, and if he isn't, she has no trouble breaking him apart until he's the perfect puzzle piece. He can do nothing---

He could kill Wes.

The one kindness he has the power to grant. He could kill Wes, and ensure Mercury can't drag this out any longer.

He could, but he can't, he knows he can't. He knows Wes will die either way, but he's still not strong enough to at least make it as painless as possible.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles.

"D...an?" the voice is quiet and broken and small.

"I'm here," he says, trying to keep his own voice steady. "I... I can move though, if y-you want."

"Stay. Please."

Dan doesn't need to be told twice. He inches closer still, pressing his face into Wes's neck, wanting to say I'm sorry again, because it's hard to think of anything else when everything hurts and they're both going to die here.

But he doesn't. Instead, Dan holds Wes close.

"It'll be okay," he lies. "We'll be okay."

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast @kixngiggles @shywhumpauthor @whumpsday

~ ~ ~

#whumptober2023 #altprompt #broken #oc #fic #death mention tw #broken bones tw #death wish tw #riotkingsau #broken in more than just the physical sense! :D #angst #multiple whumpees #lost hope #captivity whump

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starlightvld · 5 months

Text

Word Game Wednesday - "Mine"

When Price speaks again, his voice is low enough that John has to strain to hear him.

"I feel responsible. I knew something was going on between you two. I should've put a stop to it."

"Wouldnae have made a difference. I was gone on 'im long afore anything happened 'tween us."

"Still—"

"No' yer fault, Cap. S'mine for bein' a goddamned fool, and Simon's for makin' me think he..."

John lets the words trail away, but the unspoken ending screams inside his head and stabs into the tender flesh around his shredded makeshift heart all the same. He pushes his glass forward and raises his hand, motioning to the bartender for another.

#soapghost #ghostsoap #ghoap #COD #Call of Duty #COD MW reboot #ficwip #word game wednesday #broken bones and shattered hearts #post canon fix it #have I mentioned there's a lot of angst in this fic?#breakup/makeup fic #MacTavish doesn't go by Soap because of the discharge and doesn't go by Johnny because of the broken heart #So John it is #Which is why Price is always referred to as Price in this fic XD #hoping I'll get to post chapter one soon #OG Starlight

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themightywolftiger · 2 years

Text

Fall Fairy Not Fun (3/4)

Note: Hey, remember when I said that I didn’t have time to post this part? Yeah, me neither *pushes that post under the rug*

Anyways, Thomas and Jason. Two brothers. One’s normally a partial elf and a magic user, and the other’s a man that got turned into a vampire.

That’s lore for ya.

Nothing too gross besides broken bones in this one. Tomorrow’s the end of this oneshot and also when pictures are posted.

You can read it under the cut:

Meanwhile, at the bottom of the castle, Tom was face down on the cold ground. The man's body was barely moving as he wheezed. A gentle hand was prodding into his side causing him to shudder. But still, Tom refused to fully wake up; he was too tired and sore from the fall.

" Come on, Thomas..." Jason spoke as his voice wavered, " W-Wake up..." he flinched as he clutched as his own bruised arm.

Everything hurts..

Jason thought as his body began to shake.

Why does everything still hurt? Why isn't it better? Why do I feel... so... hot?

The man questioned as he breathed through clenched teeth. Pain panged throughout his entire body as he began to shake. This pain, and the changes he went through, would quickly be dismissed by the taller brother as he put his pale fingertip to Tom's neck.

" GAH!"

Tom's body suddenly shot upwards as he gasped in pain and clutched at his jaw.

" AAAAAAAH!" Jason screeched as he scurried backwards then fell flat onto his back. In response to the screech, Tom gasped in pain as he clutched at his widened ears.

A pained squeak escaped from the orange-haired man as he curled in on himself. Jason breathed heavily as he clutched at his injured leg.

" J-Ja- Augh!" Tom flinched as his sharp teeth bit into his tongue. The shorter brother removed his hands from his ears then lowered them.

" You alright, Tom?" Jason questioned as he shifted his weight around until his was sitting with his legs crossed. The brother's whole body was shaking as he tried to calm his strayed nerves and ease his pained breaths.

Tom rubbed at his cheek as he looked up at his brother. The older of the two then looked down at his hands and stared at the cracked, grey skin on his finger tips. Then, Tom's eyes widened a bit as his ears twitched.

" Jason..." Tom looked back at his brother and studied the man's pale, human skin, " You're... h-h-human again.. B-But, I'm..."

" You're a vampire..."

The two brothers stared at each other in silence. Then, the older sat up and moved towards his younger brother.

" Are you alright, Jason? Y-Your shaking...." Tom sucked in a pained breath as he licked at his sharp fangs. The vampire's ears lowered as Jason shuddered.

" F-Fine.. N-Not fine.... T-Think I broke something on... the fall." Jason wheezed as his body shuddered. The man sucked in a breath as he tried to stand. With a gasp, the taller man fell back over with a shake. Jason frowned as he grasped at his sprained, or broken, leg.

Tom looked up to the roof then back at his brother. With a deep breath, the shorter of the two forced himself to his feet and motioned to his back.

" C-Come on... We need to find the others." Tom spoke quickly as Jason nodded. A pained wheeze escaped from Jason's clenched jaw as he wrapped his arms and legs around his brother.

" What do we do about... my leg n' arm?" Jason questioned tiredly.

Tom shrugged as he adjusted, " Once we figure out what happened to all of us, it'll help me-us- fix your leg." he answered as he walked inside. It felt strange to be that strong; however, it did feel nice to be able to lift his brother again.

Jason yawned and nodded his head as his eyes began to close. The once vampire's body shuddered as he took in a deep breath of the evening air. A cold chill ran down his mortal body as he took in sensations that he hadn't felt in years.

#Mighty's oneshots #Mighty's sona #Mightyswolf #Halloween special #broken bones mention #OCs

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