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one-piece-aus · 6 months

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Can I request Whumptober No.13 for Yan Rob Lucci or Yan Kaku?

Sure thing! ^-^

Whumptober Day 13

Yandere Lucci x Reader

"Hello there," you greeted a little white pigeon wearing a red tie. "Aren't you cute."

"Thank you."

You jumped, startled, and surprise clouded your face. "You can talk?"

"Yes, but don't tell anyone, okay?" The pigeon held up his wing as if they were hands forming the shush sign.

"Ohhhhh okay," you nodded. In awe and fascinated by this talking bird, you didn't pay attention to the noises next door.

For hours you asked the bird questions until it announced it had to leave. Sad to see it fly away, you waved goodbye until it flew out of sight. You'd never see it.

At least, that's what was supposed to happen.

A month later the pigeon came back, and your excitement skyrocketed. You were beginning to believe the talking bird with a tie was all a dream you had, you were happy to know the bird's real. You asked more questions but then you asked one you should've asked sooner.

"Do you have a name?"

"I do, forgive me for not introducing myself," the pigeon apologized and bowed. "I'm Hattori."

"Hattori, huh." You petted his little head. "Do you have an owner?"

"Mhm, but he's... busy right now, so I came here out of boredom."

You giggled, "I hope I don't get in trouble for keeping you away from him."

"Oh, I'm sure he wouldn't mind." Hattori leaned into your hand. "I think he'd like you."

"You think so?" You mused before going into the kitchen to get Hattori a snack.

Little did you know, his owner was standing under your balcony, arms crossed and leaning against the wall.

Like clockwork, you saw Hattori once a week now. You invited him inside a few times, but he declined, saying he preferred being outside with fresh air. At least, that was before tonight.

"[Y/n], it's cold outside, can I fly in?" Hattori shivered with his wings wrapped around him.

"Of course." You stepped to the side and let the poor bird into your home, forgetting about your glass of water on the counter. "Here let me get you a blanket."

You left the balcony door open and headed to the hallway closet, taking out the handstitched blanket you made for the bird you had created in your spare time. When reached, Hattori was perched on the counter beside your drink.

"Here," You laid the tiny thing around the bird. "You should feel better now. Oh, I almost forgot about my drink." You picked up the glass, sipping the contents. "What kind of owner leaves his pet out in the cold of night? Actually..." You placed the drink down and held your head. "I don't feel so good."

The counters became sideways and the ground came up to slam into you. Hattori flew up from the counter, you didn't quite see where he went. The last thing you saw was dress shoes approaching you.

Tag: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

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kabie-whump · 2 months

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♡ Febuwhump Day 12: Semi-Conscious ♡

@febuwhump

I already had the first 11 days of Febuwhump finished and queued by the time I got around to watching Hazbin Hotel but now (2/6) it’s all I can think about! Enjoy :)

Content: Alcohol, references to Angel-typical sexual abuse, references to snuff films, Huskerdust

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

Angel Dust is slumped against Husk’s bar.

That’s where he always tends to end up, especially after a hard day in the studio like this one must have been considering the bruises on his neck and peeking out from under his clothes.

Angel doesn’t have to tell Husk his order anymore. It’s always one of two things: something fruity with more sugar than alcohol, or something just bordering on straight liquor. Tonight looks like a night for the second.

“Drink up, legs.”

Angel picks his head up with effort, taking Husk in with half-lidded eyes. His movements are slow and uncoordinated. He starts to reach for his drink, and Husk snatches it away.

“Hey!”

His voice is slurred.

“You’re already wasted,” Husk accuses.

“Gimme.”

Husk knocks back Angel’s drink. He’s not one to waste perfectly good booze.

Angel gives a weak middle finger before he lets his head thump onto the bar’s surface again with a groan.

“That bad, huh?”

Angel shrugs. “I don’t think it even counts as kinky anymore. At this rate the next one’s gonna be snuff.”

Husk tries to hide the way that idea makes his skin crawl. He knows it won’t happen. Valentino would never kill his biggest star. It would be a waste of resources, and there’s no one else out there like Angel Dust.

“One drink? Please?”

“Fine. Just one.”

It turns out, one drink was exactly how much Angel needed to end up near-comatose.

“Come on, legs,” Husk grunts as he tries to corral Angel’s many long limbs into his arms. The spider is light enough for him to carry, but he’s so unwieldy when his legs are almost as long as Husk’s whole body and his four arms hang limp when Husk tries to get him to hold on. “Work with me here.”

Angel giggles into Husk’s fur. He tries to wrap his arms around Husk’s shoulders but only succeeds at slapping him in the face.

It’s slow going, but Husk eventually manages to drag Angel upstairs and into his bedroom. He passes out the second his face hits the mattress, and Fat Nuggets doesn’t hesitate before curling up under his armpit.

Husk stares down at Angel with a deep sigh. This dumbass is going to be the death of him he’s sure.

He definitely doesn’t draw the covers carefully over Angel’s limp form and brush his hair out of his face before he leaves. That’s something people do when they care, and Husk doesn’t care.

Not even a little.

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

#hazbin fanfic #hazbin hotel #angel dust whump #angel dust #huskerdust #angel dust and husk #whump #whump tropes #whump writing #whump community #whumpblr #whump scenario #nonhuman whumpee #whump fic #whump fanfiction #febuwhump #febuwhump2024 #febuwhumpday12 #febuwhump day 12

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witchy-shortcake · 3 months

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Whump challenge based on books i loved:

Invisible: Bullying, scars, isolation, sibling bonding

I fell in love with hope: Terminal illness, suicide attempts, domestic violence, found family.

The gray house: Ableism, neglectful Parents, addiction, mental institutions.

The inn at the end of the world: Natural disasters, seeking shelter at an abandoned place, traumatic injuries, stray animals.

Plague 99: Post-apocalypyptic setting, contagious deadly disease, forced to work together, eating disorders.

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letthewhumpbegin · 4 months

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Sick Day - a Wonka fanfiction

Title: Sick Day Fandom: Wonka (2023) Genre: hurt/comfort, sickfic Characters: Willy Wonka, Noodle

Summary: It was in all his bones and muscles from the moment he opened his eyes that morning: an ache and chill that no amount of chocolate could make better, combined with a headache like an entire chocolate factory was drilling inside his brain.

In which Willy is sick, and Noodle is worried.

Word count: 1590 No. of chapters: 1 Warnings: contains descriptions of being sick, fever, collapse. Slight mentions of blood. Original post date: 2 January 2024 Completed: yes

POSTED ON: AO3: click here Tumblr: click here

Any and all feedback on my writing is highly appreciated 😇🥰. You can find my full writing masterlist here.

#wonka #wonka movie #wonka 2023 #willy wonka #noodle #timothee chalamet #timothée chalamet #calah lane #wonka fanfic #wonka fanfiction #whump #whump writing #whump fanfic #whump fanfiction #ltwbwriting

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justbreakonme · 7 months

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I have lost many hours of sleep to whump fanfic.

#whump #whump fanfiction #whump community #whump memes #whumptok #whump tiktok

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devotedtosadpoetry · 3 months

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live footage of the dread heads

for some reason i keep blacking out and waking up to memes of us @turtleinsoup @faiakishi

#should i stop blacking out #or black out more #that is the question #the three heads of dread #rottmnt angst #angst #whump #whump fanfiction

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wonderwhump · 3 months

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Ok, I have to admit it. I’m a weird whump nerd, I read and write fanfiction, I enjoy all kinds of whump. Nothing new there. I know you are too 😁😈

Now I’m really sick (doc said most likely influenza, but I haven’t got the bloodwork back yet. He ruled out Covid, pneumonia and bronchitis)

Turns out I‘m even a sucker for my own suffering. Just for science. How does burning up feel? How does a 103,5 fever feel? How does the body go from shivers and chills to sweating my clothes dripping wet when I take a fever reducer? How does it feel to almost vomit from coughing violently? How does it feel to get up too fast and cough too hard so that you black out a second. How do wobbly legs and rapid pulse from high fever feel?

I don’t like being sick. I hate it. Of course! But since I‘m sick anyway, I can explore it, right. For science.

Is that fucked up?! 😂🫣

I‘ll try to sleep now. Cough depressant and Ibuprofen are in my system and I‘m in the sweating absurdly phase, which strangely enough lets me sleep. Depending on blood results they might put me on antibiotics tomorrow.

Have a good one, guys.

Talk to me! 😘

#whump #whump fanfiction #for science #whump nerd #fever #coughing #is this normal #is this weird?#is this normal for whumpers at least?#future sickfics #don’t worry I do whatever the doctor says and am not endangering myself

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heffawhump · 1 month

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Art by Shadowshandsface for chapter 7 of my fic In the Walls.

#I’m going to have to marry them now #im serious #posted with artist permission #delicious in dungeon #dungeon meshi #whump #whump fanfiction #chilchuck #fanart #fanfiction #dunmeshi #fanfiction fanart #hurt comfort #laios touden #senshi #marcille donato #touden party #found family #feels

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whumpback-wail · 5 months

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04 - Investigation Continues

Trial by Fire (Wriothesley x Reader) - TW/CW in masterlist

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

“The production zone could use a hand in inventory, I think the work there may suit you more than manually making the Gardemeks, that one requires a lot more strength,” the guard looked up from his clipboard and gave her a smile, "don't hesitate to come to me if you have any problems."

That was three days ago.

(y/n) was honestly taken aback. She had expected people- prisoners to be more… Rude? Rough? But everyone here seemed to be nice with each other.

Shaking her head, (y/n) reminded herself that it's only a matter of time. She's innocent, a victim caught in the spider web of investigation and lies, and Navia is on the surface working to get her out. If there's anyone (y/n) can trust, it's Navia.

Anyway, (y/n) needed to speak with the Duke. He was away when she first got to the Fortress, and the production people had kept her busy since then. Perhaps after hours at night? Is he even back yet?

She sighed and resigned herself to stacking boxes of spare parts on shelves. (y/n) had categorized each area assigned to her so that it becomes easier for her when the time comes to get specific boxes ready.

(y/n) eyed the final box, it was filled with scrap metal, but it was completely full. The only empty spot that goes for that category would be the one further up. She looked around for more empty boxes, perhaps splitting up the contents would work-

Distracted by her thoughts, she did not see - nor hear, the sound of heavy boots walking towards her. Suddenly the man was already beside her and picking up the box.

"So does this go into that empty slot up there?"

(y/n) turned to look, and came face to face with a tall muscular man, her own height barely passing his shoulder. He donned a black shirt under a grey vest, with his jacket draped over his shoulders. His hair seemed to have a permanent bed head style which shows off the grey tufts in between the black ones. He looked like someone who would enjoy energy drinks while listening to heavy metal music, she thought, before she snapped out of it once she noticed his steel blue eyes looking into hers, awaiting an answer.

"Um… yeah there." (y/n) pointed at the empty spot.

He placed the box there seemingly without effort. He clapped the dust off his hands and loosened his red tie. "You're new here."

It wasn't a question.

"Yeah," (y/n) replied.

-and I'm not supposed to be here, I'm innocent. I was framed.

"Sorry I wasn't here when you came in. I'm the Duke."

(y/n) stared at him. So that's why he was dressed so differently from the other guards, despite the similar colour scheme.

"Y-your Grace." She nodded at him politely, "I'm (y/n), I was hoping to see you to discuss some things regarding me being here."

• • •

After further checks from the doctors, she was given the clear to see more visitors. Navia had rushed inside after that. She was the first familiar face she had seen after Wriothesley. (y/n) missed her friend dearly.

However, (y/n) could tell that Navia was being careful with both her words and touch. Navia did not ask anything about her time in captivity, instead choosing to speak more mundane everyday things, like what cake she likes lately. Wriothesley must have warned her, or maybe the nurses did. Eitherway, the visit was kept short, a nurse then came to get her when the time was up.

Once visits were over, Wriothesley was the one who kept her company while she had dinner, then he had to leave to meet up with Neuvillette to discuss matters in regards to… the recent events. He had made sure that she was asleep before he left, leaving her room at the capable hands of the two guards outside.

It felt almost like a routine now. Every few days Wriothesley, Navia, and Neuvilette would meet at the safety of Neuvilette's office, occasionally joined by Aether and Paimon, which was the case this time.

“Wriothesley,” Paimon greeted, ”how’s (y/n)?”

“Her recovery is progressing nicely. Now that visitors are allowed to see her, why don’t you stop by to say hi sometime.”

Aether nodded, “sure, we’ll stop by before we go take another commission tomorrow.”

“It was nice to see her again,” Navia smiled as Wriothesley took a seat next to her, “still, (y/n) felt different, sometimes her eyes glaze over as if she’s elsewhere, then it focuses on you again. I can suggest you some therapists if you’d like? I’m sure (y/n) would need one eventually.”

Wriothesley nodded at her, “I would really appreciate that, thank you for lending us your men too, Navia.”

Clearing his throat, Wriothesley went straight to business. "Anything new?"

The two shook their heads.

"The Spina di Rosula managed to track down a handful more men who worked under Arderne,” Neuvilette explained, “but none of them have any useful information. The only other person they seem to think has any information is a guy named Dougier. They say he worked directly under Arderne.”

Wriothesley paused, the name sounds familiar. Wasn’t he…

“He’s part of the Berrett society, wasn’t he?” Aether asked, “Is he still in Meropide?”

Wriothesley frowned. “No. His sentence was over a month ago, right before… Before my fiancée was taken.”

“Hmm… so he’s involved,” Neuvilette took a sip of water out of his fancy glass. Why is it that only Nuevilette can drink plain water that elegantly? “I’m not surprised. After all, the man did have a grudge against you for uncovering his schemes that time, Wriothesley.”

"That explains a lot." Wriothesley mumbled, he unclenched his fists, not realizing when he started feeling that tense.

"We'll need to track down Dougier next then?" Aether asked.

"Yes, I'll dispatch some of my men to ask around my network." Wriothesley answered.

"Spina di Rosula have been scouring the area for him but there were no traces, they reported that it was as if he disappeared." Navia pondered, crossing her legs as both gentlemen looked up at her, "but we all know people don't just disappear into thin air, it's possible we overlooked something. Let's go over the chronological order once again.

• • •

(y/n) jolted awake. Another bad dream, she’s safe now, there’s nothing to worry about.

She directed her gaze at the sofa, which was devoid of her husband. Is he still outside? She knew he was investigating her case, so perhaps he’s meeting up with Neuvilette and Navia.

Suddenly she felt nauseous.

Again?

These past few days she kept waking up with nausea, but this was the first time she felt the strong urge to vomit. (y/n) quickly pressed the call button and clumsily stumbled to the toilet using her crutches. She lifted the toilet bowl and emptied the contents of her stomach.

“(y/n)?” She could hear nurse Komaki in her room.

“I’m here.”

The door to the bathroom swung open, and nurse Komaki quickly rushed to her side. She held up (y/n)’s hair as she continued to retch and dry heave into the toilet bowl.

“Did you just wake up before this happened?”

“Yeah.” (y/n) felt tears pricking behind her eyes. She remembered clear as day the things that happened to her in the facility, but part of her refused to accept a specific event that kept recurring.

It can't be… right?

"Uh... Nurse Komaki?" (y/n)’s voice was shaky

"Yes dear?"

(y/n) hesitated. She didn't want to do this but she had to make sure.

“May I… Is it possible to get a pregnancy test?”

Nurse Komaki’s eyes widened, she leaned in closer to her, eyes filled with a mix of sympathy and worry. “Of course dear. No questions asked. I can also arrange to test for any STDs, with your consent of course.”

“T-thank you. I'd need that.” (y/n) sighed in relief, but then straightened up when she remembered her other point.

“And uh… I believe with the doctor and patient confidentiality you can at least do this much… uhh… Please don’t tell Wriothesley about this.”

• • •

"There, that's it!" Navia's exclamation turned all eyes on her, "you said you found her unconscious and she was not breathing, but she showed little to no signs of memory loss or brain damage, on top of her vision being taken too."

Wriothesley knew where she was going with this.

"Humans will suffer brain damage if the brain is not supplied with oxygen for over 4 minutes." Navia continued.

"Are you saying… her breathing stopped within four minutes of me arriving at her cell? I didn't see anyone come in or out."

Navia nodded, "that is very likely."

Neuvilette squinted at the maps spread out in front of them. "Then… there's a chance that a hidden passage or room is present in the location where she was found."

Paimon hummed, a bit confused, "What about how she retained her memories even without a vision?"

"For now we don't really have an answer to that," Wriothesley got up, "but I'm sure at least Dougier does."

[<<< previous chapter] • [masterlist] • [next chapter >>>]

nurse komaki -> (*´ー)ﾉ(×_×) <- (y/n)

Taglist: @almosteggs @quuela @tempest1art @yamanaka13-blog @arseneumbra @kimmeaahh @cottonfluffs@randomidk-123 @applejayee @keigo-hawks-takami-simp @mechanicalbeat1 @aribae1234-blog @bforbiblio @supernerdycookietrashblrr @furblrwurblr

#wriothesley x reader #genshin impact x reader #wriothesley angst #wriothesley x reader angst #whump #whump writing #whump series #whump fanfic #whump fanfiction #genshin impact whump #genshin impact wriothesley #whump community #anime whump #genshin character x reader

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one-piece-aus · 6 months

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Whumptober Day 10

Mihawk x Reader

"Are you alright, my dear?"

You lift your head off the ground, seeing black dress shoes and the ends of a black coat. You blinked a few times before you trailed your eyes up, finding a well-dressed holding an umbrella over both of your heads and holding a hand out toward you.

"You seem cold out here," the man commented on the obvious. "If you want, I can bring you back to my manor. Staying outside any longer won't be good for your health."

In all honestly, you were tired, your vision was still blurry. Numbness encased your body, you didn't know rain currently fell from the sky until it began hitting against the umbrella, and despite the cold, your torso felt flames burning inside. Obviously, your brain isn't functioning, so if you asked if the man before you is trustworthy, you'd get static.

With few options, because you couldn't make any in your foggy mind, you lift your hand to take his. He pulled your ragdoll body up and gently set your arm over his shoulder while his arm held your waist.

"Can you walk?" He inquired, glancing at you.

"I can't feel my legs," you said, demonstrating by attempting to take a step forward only for your leg to lose balance. You wished these pins and needles would go away.

"Ah, this won't do. Hold this." He handed you the umbrella, and though you tried telling him you wouldn't be able to hold it up, once you had it in your hand, he swifty picked you up bridal style and began carrying you down the stone pathway. "I do hope you don't mind me carrying you, not to worry, my manor isn't far."

"Thank you..."

"It's no trouble, really."

You adjusted the hold of the umbrella, since your hands were now resting on your stomach, the task no longer felt like a strain for your body. Warmth from the man started erasing the numbness that had encased your body and slowly your senses returned to you. Raindrops brought a peaceful atmosphere, and for once, you felt safe.

"If you don't mind me asking, how did you end up washed ashore on my island?"

"I was running from someone..." You gazed down, already uncomfortable from the resurfacing memories.

"I see," he said, taking note of how your mood shifted.

Whoever you were running from must've been bad enough to drive you out to sea in the Grand Line. From the lack of log pose and the rope burns on your hands, you probably got caught in a storm, and with no knowledge of being a sailor or knowing the chaos of the Grand Line waters, your ship sank and you ended up stranded here. You might have some other injuries that need to be taken care of, and you must be hungry-

"Hey..." You brought Mihawk out of his thoughts. "What's your name?"

"Dracule Mihawk."

"I never heard of such a name before," you said, turning your head to glance at him. "It sounds beautiful...Mihawk"

He hummed at your words, sparing you a glance. "Do you have a name?"

"[Y/n]."

"[Y/n]... it's an elegant name you have."

"I think this umbrella might have a hole..." you muttered, a small smile creeping on your lips.

"Hm? Why do you assume so?" Mihawk tilted his head at you.

"Because if I'm...happy now, why else would there be water in my eyes?"

Tag: @bookandyarndragon @roseoftrafalgar

#whumptober2023 #no. 10 #“Can't you see that you're lost without me?”#stranded #one piece #whump fanfiction #whump fic #whump writing #one piece scenario #one piece x reader #dracule mihawk #mihawk x reader #one piece mihawk #hawkeye mihawk #dracule mihawk x reader #x reader #no 10

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kabie-whump · 2 months

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♡Febuwhump Day 13: “You weren’t supposed to get hurt.” ♡

@febuwhump

! Hazbin Hotel season 1 spoilers !

Content: More Angel Dust whump! This one's set right after the battle against Adam and the exorcists. The fight's over, the hotel's collapsed, and Angel's hurt. Field medicine, impalement, improper use of vodka, author doesn't know shit about medicine

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

It’s over.

The hotel’s nothing but a pile of rubble. The bodies of angels litter the ground, golden blood seeping into the dirt. Charlie does her best to ignore the sickening sound of her cannibal army enjoying their reward.

Charlie wanders through the rubble with Vaggie at her side. It’s all so quiet now that the chaos is over. KeeKee emerges from a hiding spot and leaps into her arms, filling her with a wave of relief.

“Glad to see you too,” she whispers, holding the cat against her chest.

A snort from up ahead. Charlie follows it to find Fat Nuggets rooting around in the dirt, looking as worried as a tiny pig can.

“Nuggets? Where’s Angel?”

The pig just stares at her.

Now that she's thinking about it, she hasn’t seen any of her friends since the battle was still raging.

“Charlie!”

She turns quickly as Husker appears from behind a pile of stone and wood and furniture. He’s limping, his fur scorched in some places and matted with blood in others. One of his eyes is swollen shut.

“It’s Angel,” Husk pants. “Come on.”

She and Vaggie follow him through the rubble. He moves quickly for a guy who can barely walk.

They find Angel sprawled out on the ground. Fat Nuggets squeals and runs to him, and Charlie sighs with relief as he moves to wrap the pig up in his arms. At least he’s alive and conscious.

But Husk seems too worried as he falls to his knees at Angel’s side, examining something that is just out of Charlie’s sight until she moves closer.

“Shit.”

It was once a piece of metal railing from a banister or something, Charlie imagines. Now it’s twisted and broken and embedded in Angel’s stomach.

Charlie rushes to Angel’s other side, her hands hovering helplessly over him. His face is buried in Fat Nuggets’ fur but she can still see the way it's cortorted with pain.

“Angel, hey,” she says, taking one of her hands in his own. He looks at her, and his makeup is smeared under his eyes in gray streaks.

He starts to shift, then slumps with a groan. “Did- Did we win?”

Charlie nods, her eyes filling with tears. She’s scared that she won’t be able to say anything without sobbing.

“Fuck yeah we did,” Vaggie says, squatting next to Charlie and immediately starting to cut Angel’s clothes away with a knife.

“You did real good, legs.” Husk pats his cheek, pulling his attention away from what Vaggie’s doing. “Kicked a lot of exorcist ass.”

Angel gives a weak smile, letting his head fall back. “They didn’t…” He coughs harshly and the place where the metal had entered his stomach gushes with blood. A cry is torn from his throat.

Charlie feels sick. “Try to stay still,” she says, fighting to keep her voice from wavering. “You’re going to be okay.”

“It hurts,” Angel hisses.

“I know. I’m sorry. I’m so sorry.”

She’s trying so hard not to spiral. This is all her fault. Why did she think they could save everyone? Why did she have to go and provoke Adam over some stupid dream? Now Sir Pentious is dead and Angel is halfway there himself and it’s all Charlie’s fault.

“Just stay with us,” Husk is saying as Charlie scrubs away tears. He’s running his fingers through Angel’s hair as the spider clings to Fat Nuggets. The pig snuffles into his neck forlornly. “You’re okay. We’re gonna take good care of you.”

“Huskie…” Angel whines, turning his face into the cat’s hand.

Vaggie had wandered off, and she returns with what looks like a pillowcase and a miraculously unbroken bottle of vodka, which she tosses to Husker. “Get him drunk,” she says simply.

Husk nods, uncapping the bottle. Charlie moves behind Angel, lifting him slowly into a partial sitting position while Vaggie holds onto the jagged metal and moves it with them, trying to minimize the pain. Angel still sobs, his boots kicking helplessly against the ground.

Angel obediently takes a few long swigs of vodka when Husk holds the bottle to his lips, not even wincing at the taste.

The bottle is passed back to Vaggie. “Hold him,” she whispers.

Charlie and Husk both grab onto Angel, restraining his arms while Vaggie places her knee over his thighs. Fat Nuggets jumps off his chest. She sees Angel’s eyes go wide with panic just before Vaggie grabs hold of the metal and pulls.

Angel’s screams echo through the ruins of the hotel. Once when the metal leaves his stomach. Again when Vaggie pours the bottle’s contents into the wound. He coughs and sobs and writhes in pain and Charlie can’t hold back the sympathetic tears that follow his.

“I’m so sorry,” she says again, pressing her forehead to Angel’s and holding his upper set of arms tightly while he struggles to push Vaggie away. “It wasn’t supposed to go like this. You weren’t supposed to get hurt.”

The bottle is discarded on the ground somewhere as Vaggie does her best to stop the bleeding with the pillowcase. It’s definitely not clean enough for this, but it’s better than letting him bleed out.

“Pull it together, Princess,” Husk mumbles. “Now’s not the time.”

Charlie takes some deep, forced breaths, getting her sobbing under control. Husk’s right. Angel needs her. He needs her to be the leader she promised she would be when he signed on to this mess.

“You’re okay,” she whispers, watching Angel’s eyelids flutter as he starts to pass out. “It’s okay. We’ve got you.”

︵‿︵‿୨♡୧‿︵‿︵

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creator-of-calm-queer-chaos · 6 months

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Ten Fics, Share a Line, Ten People

The wonderful @beepbeepsan tagged me in this!

(Astrabear I apologise for tagging you, I did in fact copy and paste this and forgot to take out your tag lmao)

Rules: Pick any ten of your fics, scroll roughly to the midpoint, pick a line (or three) and share it. Then tag ten people.

Sinc Itur Ad Astra (Good Omens)

A warm, fuzzy feeling spreads through Crowley’s body, from his chest outward. It’s quite hot, but comfortable, like sinking into a bath. Crowley feels Aziraphale wrap an arm around him, and Crowley pulls him even closer.

I wish this moment could last forever, Crowley thinks.

Then, in the middle of the perfect kiss, Crowley notices that the hot feeling in his chest isn’t going away. Instead, it’s just getting hotter and hotter. It’s almost burning - no, it’s definitely burning now. Why is it burning?

2. Finder's Keepers (Sherlock)

“Just… just make it stop,” Sherlock whispered.

“John, Sherlock is asking me to make it stop. Honestly it’s a miracle that he’s still alive, there’s an awful lot of blood here. What if I… put him out of his misery?”

“NO!” John screamed again. “Sherlock, hang on, I think I’m almost there.”

“Well, then, don’t want you to crash our party, do we?” the man snarled, pointing the gun at Sherlock’s head. “Any last words, pretty boy?”

All Sherlock could do was groan.

“All right then. Bye bye!”

BANG.

3. Blood in the Water (Sherlock)

“Sherlock.” John’s hand moved to his wrist and gripped it like a vice. “You- you have to pr- promise me.”

Blood dribbled out of his mouth. There was blood everywhere . It covered the floor, it covered their clothes, it covered his hands, some of it was dripping into the pool. Again, Sherlock’s mind held only one thought: Save John. Save John. Save John. Over and over like a mantra.

“Shut up,” Sherlock spluttered out. So much blood. “Save your energy, please. I can’t lose you!”

“Promise me you’ll catch the fucker.” His voice was like iron. Iron as blood.

“I promise,” Sherlock whispered.

4. What if Cas died how Sam died in S2? (Supernatural)

But Castiel didn’t move, Dean couldn’t feel a pulse beneath the hand on his neck.

“CAS!” Dean screamed, clutching his best friend tight, sobbing.

He looked at the pool of blood on the ground, soaking the dirt and- and as Cas’s hand lost warmth, the silver ring on his hand was soaked in red.

5. "Can you hear me?" w/ Clint and Natasha (Marvel / The Avengers)

“Let’s keep this between us, then, shall we?”

He brought the flat of the blade under Clint’s chin. He gently pushed it up, forcing Clint to look him in the eyes. He smirked, and put a hand on his shoulder.

“Oh, you’ll be so much fun.”

6. Made to Watch w/ Fitzsimmons (Agents of Shield)

She took out the knife and cut away his shirt. Then, she placed the tip of the knife into his skin. Fitz shakily inhaled and held his breath.

The woman began to carve.

At first, Fitz bit his tongue, but within seconds, he was screaming. Simmons was sobbing, sitting on the floor. The woman only grinned and kept dragging the knife through Fitz’s skin. Blood flowed from the wounds in huge waves, puddling around them. Fitz trembled and screamed and wailed. And yet he let it continue.

7. Secrets Revealed w/ Ward and Skye (Agents of Shield)

Skye was on the ground. She couldn’t breathe well. Her hands were sticky. Why were her hands wet?

There was a gun in her hands. She needed to fire it.

Fire. Click. Click. Nothing. Laughing. Someone was laughing. Why was someone laughing?

“Goodbye, Skye,” a voice said.

8. Muzzled w/ May and Daisy (Agents of Shield)

“Who’s that for?” Daisy snarked from where she sat, sitting up straighter and blinking rapidly. “Did you get me a present?”

“In a way,” the man said. The two guards hefted her up by her armpits and placed her in the middle of the room. The man sat on the ground behind her, and the woman in front of her. “We’re going to have some fun now that we know we have the time.”

May inhaled sharply from across the room.

9. Caged w/ Steve and Bucky (MCU/Avengers)

“Why did you draw me?” a voice said.

Steve jumped and looked up. The Winter Soldier had appeared in front of the cage. He held a plate of bread and cheese.

“Because I knew you,” Steve answered cautiously.

Not-Bucky opened the cage door and stepped in, placing the food on the ground. He leaned against the wall and closed the door with a slam. They were locked in there together

“Tell me what you remember,” Not-Bucky said.

10. Found Footage w/ Peter and the Team (MCU)

He wailed and screamed and pleaded, but nothing deterred them. He yelled for them, for Mr Stark and Natasha and Steve and Clint and Ned and everyone he loved. But none of them arrived.

This is open to anyone who would like to particpate! I'll tag a few people in case they want to, but no pressure at all :)

@whoopsitswhump, @suspicious-whumping-egg, @painsandconfusion, @atlantis-is-burning

#tag game #whump #fanfiction #fics #ao3 #fanfic #my writing #y'all it was so hard to find ten fics that I don't hate #i reopened that ridiculously long mcu/hp crossover fic from when i was 12 #it's so bad #i'm tempted to orphan it #whump fanfiction #this tag game isn't for anything specific it just turns out that all the fics i don't hate are whump

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letthewhumpbegin · 6 months

Text

Obsession - Top Gun: Maverick

Fandom: Top Gun: Maverick Characters: Jake "Hangman" Seresin, Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw, Pete "Maverick" Mitchell Prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion Word count: 2756 Warnings: mentions of collapse / fainting, exhaustion.

A/N: this story is already posted on my FF.net and AO3 account, but now posted onto here as well.

Their new mission was a tough one, maybe even tougher than the bombing of the uranium enrichment facility.

It included an extremely difficult route to fly, full of circumstances and obstacles to keep in mind, such as enemy bases, air defence missiles, tree tops and other structures that could be flown into. Combined with the low altitude and higher than normal speed they would need, it turned out to be a near impossible mission to master.

Maverick and the team of younger fighter pilots were training for nearly three weeks now, and, so far, no one had yet been able to fly the required route without 'crashing' their jet. Not even Maverick himself.

Hangman found it all extremely frustrating. Even though they had five months to train, considerably longer than their last mission together, it nagged at him that no one had been able to fly it yet. Most of all, that he hadn't been able to fly it yet. Never before had Hangman been this affected by a mission. It kept him up at night, stressed him out during the day, and eventually led to him pulling all-nighters to cram as many mission-details into his head as he possibly could.

Tonight, he once again sat in Top Gun's communal kitchen well past midnight. All the aviators stayed in dorm-like rooms at the academy, with this living room-like kitchen being a sort of common room for them.

Hangman had chosen to sit here so as not to wake up his roommate during this stay. He was roomed up with Rooster, something, he suspected, Maverick had done on purpose to have the two of them get on better terms a bit. Their previous mission had definitely laid a base of acceptance and respect between the two of them as aviators, but this stay as roommates together made that Hangman had to admit he actually started to appreciate Rooster as a person.

Hangman sat at the large dining table in the kitchen. Maps, charts, mission specifics and jet manuals all lay strewn across the table and on the floor surrounding his chair. Even though he had trouble keeping his exhausted mind focused, he willed himself to keep reading everything there was, and try and remember every twist, turn and obstacle of the route they would need to fly. For three nights in a row he had gone by on a maximum of an hour and a half of sleep, and if it was up to him, he wasn't going to get much more tonight. Even if he slept, it was an uneasy slumber that didn't do much to get him any sort of rest. The symptoms of his fatigue already showed, but he refused to give into them.

His flying had been absolutely abysmal today. Deep down Hangman knew that was undoubtedly caused by his extreme lack of sleep, but he didn't admit to that. He was Hangman after all: he was good, very good, and wasn't brought down by something as trivial as lack of sleep. Still, there had been a very close call today, in which he nearly crashed his F18 into a hillside for real. Something like that had never happened to him before, and his weakened reflexes must have played a large part in that.

Now that he sat here, for the fourth night in a row hard on his way to pull an all-nighter, Hangman felt himself start to spin out of control. A distinct tremble had started in his hands, and he couldn't get it to stop. He was sweating, even though it was quite cool here in the kitchen, and whenever he moved his head, the room swam around him. Hangman was faintly aware he was crossing every line he had, but was so obsessed with making this mission work, that he didn't even care. He would sleep or rest when he mastered this mission, but until that time he allowed himself nothing.

"What are you doing?" Hangman was startled by Rooster suddenly standing behind him. He hadn't heard his fellow-aviator come in at all. "Studying," Hangman answered curtly. Rooster frowned at all the paperwork strewn across the kitchen. "Why?" Hangman ran a trembling hand through his hair. "I need to make this mission work. I have to be able to fly it."

Rooster mulled that over for a second, as something started to dawn on him. "How long has this been going on?" He asked suspiciously. "Come to think of it: I woke up yesterday in the middle of the night, and you weren't in our room. I figured you might have gone to the bathroom, and I fell asleep again quickly. But now I'm starting to think you were 'studying' as well." "I was." Hangman admitted instantly. "Fourth night in a row, and I still can't do it." He growled in frustration, slamming his fists into the tabletop.

Rooster raised an eyebrow in surprise, sitting himself down on a chair on the opposite side of the table. "Aren't you a bit harsh on yourself? I mean, even Mav hasn't flown this thing yet." Hangman vigorously shook his head, looking slightly deranged as he did so. "Then I'll be the one to do it." Rooster took a deep, slow breath. He could see the situation exactly for what it was: this mission had become an obsession for Hangman, and definitely not in a good way.

"Okay, you've got to stop this," Rooster intervened. "This isn't healthy anymore." "No, I've got to finish this," Hangman snapped. He looked absolutely disheveled now and on the edge of a nervous breakdown. "And I'm fine, by the way." Rooster scoffed, but spoke calmly. "Yeah, well, try telling me that without your hands shaking." "Rooster," Hangman growled, "you really need to…"

Hangman fell silent mid-sentence. Suddenly the room spun around him. Cold sweats broke out all over his body, and there was the distinct feeling of losing control over himself. He got to his feet as a feeling of panic spread through him, but that probably was the dumbest move he could have made. Immediately, the room spun even more and his vision darkened. And before he knew it, he slumped to the floor and blacked out completely.

"Shit, shit, shit!" Rooster muttered urgently. There was not much he could do to prevent Hangman from going crashing to the floor. He couldn't say he was surprised to see this happen, though. Hangman had worked himself into exhaustion in his obsession over this mission, and now paid the price for it.

Rooster ran around the table, dropping to his knees beside Hangman. They had their differences, sure, but in this case of emergency, Rooster didn't hesitate to offer his help. He immediately pressed his fingers to Hangman's neck to feel for a heartbeat, and was relieved to feel the rhythmic thumping of the vein.

Rooster knew he needed some assistance, but with everyone sleeping that wasn't the easiest thing to arrange at the moment. "Help!" He called out at the top of his lungs. "Need some help over here!" Rooster wasn't keen on leaving Hangman alone right now, especially with his fellow-aviator still out cold, so he just wished someone would be woken up by his cries for help.

Rooster turned his attention back to Hangman. He lightly tapped Hangman's cheek in an attempt to bring him back to consciousness, but was not able to rouse him. As his basic medical training had taught him, Rooster carefully turned Hangman onto his side, closely monitoring his condition until he would wake up again or until help would arrive.

The sound of barefoot, running footsteps coming down the corridor that led to the communal kitchen announced someone had heard Rooster's cries for help. A few seconds later, Maverick came to a skidding stop in the doorway.

"What happened?" Maverick looked horror-struck from the papers strewn everywhere, to the clearly unconscious Hangman lying on the floor and Rooster kneeling next to him. "Did you guys fight?" "No," Rooster answered quickly, "he passed out, because he's barely slept for four days. This mission has become an obsession for him, Mav."

Maverick blew out a deep breath. He had noticed something was off with Hangman, especially today, but hadn't been able to lay a finger on it. And now he knew… "That near crash today was probably no innocent mistake either?" Maverick frowned. Rooster shook his head. "I don't think so. Fatigue must have compromised his concentration and reflexes. He shouldn't have been flying today." "That's a conversation I will have with him some other time." The concern was evident in Maverick's voice. "Let's get him off the floor first."

Almost as if he had heard those words, Hangman groaned softly and stirred. It took a few seconds for him to open his eyes, but finally he looked ahead, still dazed. "What happened?" He mumbled weakly, "why am I on the floor?" Rooster scoffed. "Because you're an idiot, and decided to work yourself into exhaustion." Maverick held up a hand to silence Rooster, quietly signalling this was not the time nor the place for a reprimand.

Hangman sluggishly blinked a few times, before he slowly pushed himself into a sitting position. "Slowly, take it easy." Maverick was ready to catch Hangman in case he would go down again. "I'm okay," Hangman mumbled, passing a hand over his face. "Bit dizzy, still, though." 'We can call one of the doctors in, if you want to?" Rooster suggested. "No, it's alright," Hangman answered softly, "if you guys would be so kind as to help me back to bed. I think I just need to sleep this off." "I'll agree to that for now," Maverick agreed somewhat reluctantly, "because it's the middle of the night, and you do need rest, but tomorrow you're seeing a doctor, just to be sure. And that is happening whether you like it or not." Hangman nodded, accepting defeat. "Okay."

Maverick and Rooster helped Hangman to his feet. He needed a lot of support, but leaning on both his fellow aviators, Hangman finally managed to stand. "You good?' Maverick asked, worried. Hangman looked anything but steady on his feet, and it wouldn't be surprising if he collapsed again at any given moment. "I can make it," Hangman answered through clenched jaws. He wasn't quite sure if he indeed would be able to make it back to his and Rooster's room, but he was way too damn proud to be carried back there. Rooster could see right through him, but didn't mention it. "At your tempo."

Hangman took a tentative step forward. He knew he had done all of this to himself, but he didn't quite trust the strength of his own legs. To his relief, he found that he could walk, albeit slowly and somewhat unsteadily.

Getting back to their bedroom took a while. Hangman needed to stop a few times along the way and seemed in constant danger of collapsing again. He had to admit he was completely spent by the time they had reached the bedroom. Just this short walk had drained him of the little strength and energy he had left.

Maverick and Rooster helped Hangman lie down on the bed. He didn't even bother to change his clothes, that was how tired he felt. Hangman pulled the sheets up to his chin and rolled himself onto his side, facing the wall next to his bed, and back turned to Rooster and Maverick. The consequences of what he had done suddenly weighed down hard on him. He felt so ashamed that he had let himself get this obsessed with their mission, and had allowed himself to spiral completely out of control. He now sure paid a price for it, because he felt like utter shit. Both mentally and physically he had exhausted himself.

Hangman heard Maverick and Rooster converse behind him in hushed voices. He couldn't quite make out what was being said, but about a minute later he heard footsteps, a door open and close, and then silence. Hangman instinctively knew he was now alone with Rooster once again.

"Thanks for checking in on me," Hangman mumbled just loud enough for Rooster to hear. He was well aware that if Rooster hadn't decided to come look for him tonight, things might have been a lot worse. And if things hadn't turned out the way they had tonight, he sure would have stepped into his F18 tomorrow, and quite possibly crashed and killed himself for real.

After a short moment of silence, Rooster answered. "Anytime. Just promise me never to do anything like that ever again." "I sure won't," Hangman agreed without hesitation. He closed his eyes and felt his body grow heavy. It took only a minute before Hangman had fallen into a deep sleep.

---

Hangman slowly awoke. He didn't move and remained lying with his eyes closed. His bed was still way too comfortable, and he could still feel the fatigue in his bones, so he wasn't really planning on getting up anytime soon. The rustling sound of a page being turned made Hangman realise that he wasn't alone in the room. He slowly opened his eyes now to look over his shoulder, and found Rooster sitting on the other bed.

"Welcome back." Rooster spoke without looking up from the file he was reading. Hangman slowly rolled himself onto his back, sleepily rubbing his eyes. "How long was I asleep?" Rooster checked his watch. "About 20 hours." "Come again?" Hangman was astounded to hear that number. He had expected it to be a few hours, not almost an entire day. "You even slept through the doctor examining you this afternoon," Rooster commented airily, still not looking up from the page he was reading. "He thinks you'll be fine, by the way. Nothing a few days of absolute rest won't cure." Hangman nodded slowly. "And you have been sitting here all day?" "We took turns," Rooster answered, finally meeting Hangman's eye. "But since I sleep here, too, I got the night shift." "So someone has been sitting here all day to watch me sleep?" Hangman frowned. Rooster gave him a stern look in return. "You collapsed, remember?" "Actually, I don't remember much of it." Hangman slowly sat up and swung his legs over the edge of the bed, burying his face in his hands. "The last few days are a bit of a blur, to be honest." "I wonder how that came to be," Rooster replied sarcastically. "I know I did this all to myself," Hangman slowly shook his head, "and trust me when I say I feel guilty as hell about it."

A short while of silence was finally broken by Rooster. "You scared the shit out of me, you know that? I honestly thought you were a goner there for a moment." Hangman chuckled wryly. "You? Concerned for me?" "Yes." Rooster snapped back, maybe a little harsher than he meant to. "So what?" "I– I'm sorry…" Hangman stammered. He realised that his airy response did not go down well with Rooster, and he couldn't quite blame him for it.

Rooster threw the file he was reading on the floor beside his bed. "No, I'm sorry," he admitted with a hefty sigh, "I know we're not necessarily what you would call friends, but seeing you go down like that… it had an impact on me." Hangman knew this was a lot coming from Rooster, which made him appreciate it even more. "Thank you, that actually means a lot." Rooster shifted a little uncomfortably on his bed. "And I'm glad you're okay." "Well," Hangman chuckled, "I assume Maverick will still want that talk with me tomorrow. So after I survive that, then I'll really be okay." "Yeah, good luck with that." Rooster commented sarcastically, "he sounded ready to skin you alive." "As he should." Hangman lay back down. "I deserve every second of that, but first I'm going to have a whole night of sleep, cause I'm still tired as hell." Rooster nodded in agreement. "If you need anything, I'm here." "Thanks, buddy." Hangman already had his eyes closed.

Rooster watched his fellow-aviator silently drift off to sleep again, and felt the stress and worry of the day finally start to lessen. Yesterday's events had scared him shitless, but he was glad to see Hangman was on the mend again. Rooster lay down as well, casting one final glance at Hangman already fast asleep, before switching off the lights in their room. "Sleep tight."

#top gun maverick #top gun: maverick #jake seresin #jake hangman seresin #bradley bradshaw #bradley rooster bradshaw #glen powell #miles teller #top gun maverick fanfic #top gun maverick fanfiction #whump #whump writing #whump fanfic #whump fanfiction #ltwbwriting

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