#Five whump

[themetaphorgirl]

it’s Whumptober time!!

I’ve gone ahead and picked some prompts for myself and let some IRL friends pick prompts, and now I’m opening it up for other requests!

I will write

-Patron Saint of Lost Causes AU

-Lockwood & Co

-The Umbrella Academy (specifically Five centric or childhood era/pre Five’s disappearance)

-canon Criminal Minds (tentatively, just because I find canon so difficult to write)

-Six of Crows (Kaz Brekker, my beloved)

but also if there’s something I’ve written in the past or something you’d like to see me try, suggest it! I might run with it!

I am also, just for shits and giggles, including the prompts for this year’s Sicktember. I love writing sick fics and there’s not a lot of Whumptober prompts this year that lend themselves well to that. You can request just a Sicktember prompt or combine it with a Whumptober prompt, whatever you’d like!

Available prompts below the cut!

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you.”

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what’s mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor’s New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | “Is there anybody alive out there?” (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | “Oh that’s not good.”

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | “I’m doing this for you.”

Alternatives List:

Communication Barrier

Friendly Fire

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Shivering

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

BONUS: Sicktember Prompts

Too Much of a Good Thing/Overindulgence

Dizziness/Vertigo

Overdramatic Patient/Caretaker

The Sniffles ™

Medieval Treatment

Mononucleosis

"Who decided __ is ‘sick people food?’"

Toxin/Poison

Brain Fog/Spaced Out

Hypochondriac Tendencies

Medication Bribery

Under a Spell

Heart Condition/Cardiac Arrest

Pulling a ‘Ferris Bueller’

Sick on a Road Trip

Hospital Bed

“I didn’t mean to wake you up.”

First Aid Kit

Doctor's Note

[fiveapocalypse]

FAUST AND THE DEVIL

A little thing inspired by @nirby-wirby

“So it is only you whose come to meet my acquaintance.”

His head hurts. His stomach churns. There is a burning at the back of his eyes and Five swallows a lump in his throat as he sits across from the man who has held his fist over him even alone in isolation. “I can’t say I am too surprised, not with what I’ve seen so far of you and your, as you put it, family.”

A part of him wants to shout, scream, maybe even punch something just to feel anything, but instead, Five shrugs, lips pursed. “I didn’t come here to idly chit chat,” he spits, ire dripping from his words. If he was angry, he couldn’t be controlled. He couldn’t fall like Icarus wanting to touch the sun. “I came because we don’t belong here, because I know that you can do something about it.” There is a look in his eyes, calculating, and it makes Five clasp his hands together and dig his nail into his palm.

“Don’t belong here how?” Neither a laugh nor a smile, but an inquiry with raised brows.

Five takes a deep breath, grinding his teeth together. “Crapshoot,” he mutters, glaring at the pineapple in the center of the table, “thought I could do whatever wanted, landed myself in the apocalyptic future, and then—here, in this body—”

“You’ve refused to listen then,” Reginald interrupts, “if I am your father, and my word had been law, then it was no fault but your own for your circumstances.”

“That’s—"

“Perhaps, if you had not gone on a tantrum, you would not be here, struggling to even achieve the bare minimum with your lack of prowess.”

“You—"

“But, as it is now, your own foolishness has created your own mistake.” Reginald doesn’t let him get a word in, interrupting him with every second that passed. “You have failed because of your lack of patience, your inability to accept, and now you are looking to atone simply by admitting defeat.” Five hates the way his shoulders hunch up, words dying in his throat. “This, however, is not feasible. You have destroyed your own family by your own hands, with your foolishness and arrogance to prove. Tell me, how is it that the future I reside in has your family in such a state and yet, did it not all start after you had gone off on your own?”

His breath hitches, mouth feeling dry. He hadn’t ever really thought about it like that, not really, but now—it was starting to come together, the pieces falling into place. He’s been gone for so long, to the point where his siblings are 30, seventeen years passing by without him. What has he missed? What did he fail to protect because of his own selfishness? The disbanding of the academy, the drugs his brothers were on, the way that a book threatened to destroy everyone, Ben’s death.

He hadn’t been there for any of it. He hadn’t protected Klaus or saved Ben or made Luther question Reginald’s choices. He never picked up Viktor’s medicine, convincing him to not use it, never tried to remind Allison how much her rumors hurt, never helped Ben control the horror.

Instead, he had left, vanished off the earth, for seventeen whole years, and since then—

Everything had fallen apart.

All of the trouble his siblings had went through. The exclusion of their seventh. The brokenness that exuded from their very souls. It all came from something, from someone, and all his life—Five had assumed it was Reginald. He had fucked them up, had hurt them beyond compare, but looking at it now, and putting the puzzle pieces together, makes Five’s eyes burn something fierce. “I didn’t do anything,” he whispers, voice cracking, “I d-didn’t m-make them f-fall apart. I didn’t.”

Reginald stares at him with that calm face of his, not an angry wrinkle to be seen. “You disappeared,” he says, “you left them for your own desires.”

His throat closes up as he tries to swallow down the lump suddenly stuck inside. “I….” Maybe, if his siblings were here, he’d be more angry, more in control, but as it stands now, he sits there, hating how easily his eyes burn and the taste of salt falls on his lips.

and, like always, Reginald does nothing but watch him cry.

[clementineofmine]

Wow I finally updated my fic after.....6 months of crazy life and brain rot and writers block and then kicking myself for putting 2, count em, 2 action scenes in one chapter?!?!? Who do I think I am???

In any case, Diego gets some sense knocked into him (literally), Luther saved me from a plot hole (thank you), and Klaus saves the day. What more can you ask for?!?!

Only one chapter left will they or won't they <escape Reginald's clutches>??

Guys it's getting EXCITING!!!

[stupidcanofpeaches]

PEACHES HOW ARE YOU!!!!!!

AAAYYYY HII IM GOOD!! a little tired but overall its been a good month for me! also about to go on a two-week vacation so im excited to have more free time!! might even be able to get some five whump done hehe

[grandkhan221b]

Ooops more TUA stuff actually I'm still not over this little guy. I've been reading reading fanfictions torturing him for the last 2 months 😊

@ the last pic I know it's beating a decomposed horse to take jabs at season 4, but I haven't seen anyone discuss how bad five's look was... His "Jerome" disguise actually fit him so much better

[callmeizukunotdeku]

Jason starts working with the Bats and he feels guilty. He is guilty.

Sure, he wasn't in his right mind during the Tower incident, not entirely, but he was in his right mind when he was planning it. The Pit could only take over for so long.

So maybe, when things start to get better between him and the bats, he takes up a case with Robin.

It's an easy case, but he's still impressed by how quickly Robin solves it.

Maybe Tim smiles when he solves the case and Jason ruffles his hair and tells him he did a good job--because god, Tim's just a kid; how could he not?

And maybe Tim keeps coming back after that.

Maybe Tim keeps solving all of Red Hood's cases before Jason can. Maybe Tim keeps taking over for Jason and maybe Jason starts to feel less guilty and more pissed off because he knows that he never fully thought things through as Robin and he knows that Bruce took on Tim as Robin because he did. He knows Tim is the smart Robin, but Tim has neither the right nor reason to rub it in his face, so maybe he snaps at Tim--tells him to get the fuck out of sight, tells him that he might not be the smartest person in the room but he's not some fucking idiot, tells him that he knows what he's doing and he doesn't need some fucking kid just going around solving his cases for him. Maybe, Jason tells Tim that he's not needed.

And maybe the guilt comes back when Tim leaves with tears in his eyes.

But, Jason thinks, all the guilt in the world isn't enough to override the anger and let Tim back in, not after he called Jason an idiot with everything but his words.

And then, maybe Jason is working a case and it expands past his territory and he finds himself in the cave, working with Batman. Maybe neither of them can solve it and Tim walks in, excitedly talking to Dick about something. (Jason isn't listening too closely.)

Maybe Bruce calls Tim over and Jason flinches--he didn't remember Bruce ever being that harsh when he was Robin.

Maybe Tim solves the case and Bruce turns back to Jason and starts planning their next step without so much as a thank you.

Maybe it's odd, to Jason, how Bruce and Tim don't act like a Batman and Robin to each other, and that thought sticks with him, bugging him whenever he has a quiet moment, so maybe a week or two passes before he asks Dick about it.

Maybe Dick's smile is sad when he explains how they've always been like that. Tim, always striving for attention, Bruce never giving it. Maybe Bruce's standards rose above what was physically possible in the wake of Jason's death and maybe Dick sobs himself to sleep every once in a while because that hasn't stopped tim from trying.

Maybe Tim was okay for a bit whenever Dick was in town because he could help Dick on cases and Dick would smile and applaud every little thing he did, but Dick lived in a different city, so Tim couldn't help as much with Dick's cases as he could with Bruce's.

Maybe, Dick says something under his breath--a passing comment about how surprised he is that Tim didn't come to Jason and try to solve all his cases just for a kind word or two, hoping that maybe the Red Hood's love of kids and their happiness would extend to him.

Maybe Jason feels his stomach drop as the final piece of the puzzle clicks in place--how at first, Tim came with cases every so often, smiled and leaned in whenever Jason said a kind word to him, and how, when Jason started thinking that Tim was doing this to spite Jason was when he stopped giving that praise to Tim, which had the boy solving more and more cases for him, working harder and harder without being asked just so that maybe--maybe Jason would tell him he did a good job. Jason wondered just how far Tim would go if someone promised him a smile.

Maybe the guilt is too much for him and he pushed it down, only saying, "I don't think he'd risk it--not after the Tower."

Maybe Dick has something sad in his eyes when he says, "He's done more for less."

Maybe Jason tries again to bring Tim into his cases, but Tim refuses, promises not to intrude, promises he learned his lesson, and maybe Jason cries because Tim has never asked for an apology after Titan's Tower, but one hint that he's overstepped and Tim begs forgiveness.

Maybe Jason focuses a little too much on how to bring Tim closer--make him feel loved again and make it clear that Jason just didn't understand what Tim that Tim was trying to help--make sure Tim knew he was welcome.

But maybe Tim refused.

And maybe, Jason got so focused on Tim that he stopped focusing on patrol and got over his head. Maybe, just on pure happenstance, Tim was nearby that night and he couldn't let anything happen to his Robin.

Maybe Tim swooped in to save the day and Jason grabbed onto his wrist when he tried to leave.

Maybe Tim apologized but Jason just pulled him in and hugged him--a full hug, one arm around Tim's back, the other, tucking Tim's head into his chest, and maybe Jason said, "Thank you so much, Robin. I needed you to save me."

Maybe Tim cried when it happened. Maybe, under his mask, Jason was crying as well. Maybe, they got closer after that, Jason, needing to be trusted to care for something and Tim just needing to be cared for.

And it takes time, but maybe there comes a day when Jason looks Tim in the eye and tells him that he's important and valuable and incredibly loved regardless of whether or not he's needed. Maybe it take a few years before Tim believes him, and when he does, he hugs Jason and cries into his arms, but it's okay because Jason knew it would happen sooner or later, and it's okay, it's okay, he has tissues.

Maybe Jason apologizes for what happened at the Tower and Tim admits that he forgave him for that a while ago.

Maybe.

Maybe.

Who could say for sure?

[whumpanini]

God I love shower scenes

Not the sexy kind, not the kind that's there for fan service

The kind that shows someone at their lowest, beaten, broken down, and absolutely emotionally wrecked

Maybe they're physically hurt and blood is slowly running down the drain but they don't have to be

Just their forehead resting against the tile, maybe propped up with an arm, the thousand yard stare as they process something so far away from themselves

Sitting on the ground, curled up into a tight ball just wanting the water to wash away everything that has happened

It's so emotionally raw and relatable, where someone feels their safest to just break down, to be vulnerable, and I think they're vastly underutilized or just done plain wrong because people can't get nakey = sexy out of their heads

[warmblanketwhump]

Idea for you. Let’s say we have 5 characters living in one household. They’re all very close. A brings an illness into the house. B catches it while taking care of them. Then C joins the party. Then finally D catches it as well, leaving E to take care of all of them. They start to feel ill, but power through. By the time the others have recovered, E’s fever is bad, and now they have to take care of the caretaker.

this flu season, everyone got sick.

First to fall was A, who came home from work with a pale face and a raspy voice and went straight to bed. When E went up to see them, they found them huddled in bed, blearily staring at the wall.

“I don’t feel good,” they whimper.

Next, C’s nagging cough deepened. It had started a tickle in their throat, but soon moved all the way down into their chest. C was the active type—always going for runs and spending time outdoors—so E knew they were in trouble when a short walk from room to room left C breathless, and soon, they were bedridden as well.

Then, B started complaining about feeling chilled.

“Aren’t you guys freezing?” They sat at the dinner table with D and E, a blanket clutched round their shoulders as they stare blankly at the meal they’ve barely touched.

“No?”

B runs their hands up and down their arms, then hugs themselves tightly with a shudder. “I just can’t get warm.”

D and E exchange a look before D rests a hand on B’s shoulder. “I’ll get the thermometer.”

In the span of 36 hours, three of them had become bedridden.

At first, it’s a bit of a joke between them all, D and E commiserating as they move between rooms with cough syrup, tissues, blankets, and tea.

“We should open up our own hospital,” E cracks as they

But that all changes four days in when E comes downstairs to see D at the kitchen table, ashen-faced and clutching a mug of tea in their hands.

“D, you look awful.”

D hugs the mug closer to their chest and shudders, coughing weakly. “I’ll manage. It’s just the sniffles.”

Before D can move away, E’s got a palm to their too-warm forehead and a sinking feeling in their chest. “Off to bed with you, D. You’re the next victim.”

D groans, slumping over with their head on the kitchen table. “E, I can’t just leave you.”

“Yes, you can and you will. You’re feverish and pale as death.”

D pulls the blanket tighter, a sheepish look on their face. “I thought…I thought it wouldn’t get me too.”

“No one thinks it will. Bed. Now.”

So that’s how D winds up the fourth victim of the flu, and despite their protests, they were arguably the worst hit. What they tried to pass off as a quick rest turned into a six-hour nap. they woke that evening with a 104 fever, having sweat through their clothes and bedsheets.

“It’s going to be a long night,” E whispers under their breath.

——————-

Two days later, E’s standing in the kitchen, fighting to keep their eyes open as the coffee brews, when they feel it.

A chill, prickling between their shoulder blades before it washes over their whole body.

No. I’m just overworked and sleep deprived.

Generously, E had slept for a combined 3 or 4 hours over the past two nights. It was partially their own fault. They’d been sleeping on the hallway floor so they could be equally close to everyone, which meant they heard every whimper, every cough, every quiet plea for help.

C had been up all night with a body-wracking cough, and B’s fever had spiked twice, which meant two changes into dry pajamas. A seemed to be through the worst of it, but they were still so weak they had to be helped to the bathroom. D woke at 2 in the morning, wracked with chills so violent that E gave into their pleas and helped them take a bath to warm up. After being dried off, they spent the rest of the night clutching a hot water bottle.

After that ordeal, E hadn’t even gone to bed—they’d just collapsed on D’s carpet, tugged the nearest blanket around themselves, and passed out.

Until they were woken by C’s coughing a couple hours later, and it all began again.

I'll just finish these dishes and then go sit by the fire. It's probably just this cold snap getting to me.

But as they wash dish after dish, E finds that each one becomes harder and harder to lift. Even the effort of standing makes their knees shake, and goosebumps prickle on E’s arms for no reason at all.

No. No. I can’t get sick.

By midmorning, it’s clear that something is very wrong. E’s chilled to the bone, despite being layered in thermals, a thick sweater and multiple pairs of socks. They resist the urge to wrap up in their bathrobe—the others will know something is wrong if they have that many visible layers on.

So they take A a glass of water, trying to hide how badly their hands are shaking when they hand it off. A must be thirsty enough they don’t notice as they gulp the glass down, but they frown once they’ve finished.

“E, you’re pretty peaked.”

“Hmm?” E snaps to attention, their focus drifting.

“You just look sorta washed out. Have you been sleeping?”

“I’ve been fine. As much sleep as I can with four patients to take care of,” E snaps. They instantly regret their tone as A flinches, then raises their eyebrows. “Sorry. It’s just…it’s been a lot.”

A props themselves up, wrapping their discarded robe around their shoulders. “E, I promise I’m feeling better. I can sit with D for a while—“

“No way. You couldn’t even walk yesterday.”

“And that was yesterday,” A says, patiently. “Give me an hour. If I don’t feel up to it, I’ll tell you.”

“Fine,” E says, too tired to fight with a suddenly chipper A. “But if you even seem slightly faint, it’s back to bed.”

——————

C is the next patient to raise alarms. Though their hacking cough has rendered them voiceless, they seem to be on the mend—vigorously pointing on things and writing messages on their notepad.

E, you look sick. C stabs the pointed message with their finger for emphasis.

E stifles a groan. “You’re one to talk. Drink your cough medicine.”

C accepts the shot of dark red syrup, but their eyes don’t leave B as they take it.

E meets A in the hallway, and before they can ask, A rattles off a report on B. “Fever’s still holding steady at 101.4. They’re miserable, but they’re not going to die. Gave them a cold washcloth, aspirin, and an extra blanket.”

“That’s….good work, A.”

A rolls their eye. “You’re not the only one who can play nurse.”

D is the final stop—they’re still in the roughest shape, feverish and mumbling incoherently, but A manages to soothe them with a cool hand to the forehead and some soft words. E adds another blanket to D’s bed and forces some more medicine into them, and D’s asleep in three minutes.

All patients accounted for, they leave D to rest. E’s about to tell—no, demand—that A goes back to bed, when a sudden dizzy feeling washes over them, and they grab the doorframe.

“E? You alright?”

“I…..I…” Suddenly, E can’t even form words, they just know they’re freezing, and they’re torn between keeping hold of the wall and wrapping their arms around themselves, get warm get warm get warm, and when they choose neither, their knees buckle and they crumple to the floor.

——————

The first thing E realizes, as A and C help them to sit on their bed, is that their sheets are crisp and clean. When was the last time they’d slept a full night in their bed?

“A, go….go to bed,” E rasps weakly through chattering teeth, huddling on the edge of the bed as A helps them into pajamas. “I’ll manage.”

“E, you can’t even keep your head up. Just let us help you change.”

E shudders weakly as their bare, feverish skin hits the chilly air, and A eases them under the covers, rubbing their back. “There you go. Nice and warm.” E leans into the touch, groaning softly, and they feel a thermometer poke under their tongue.

“103.6.”

E groans, pulling the blankets tighter. “I…I can’t be sick.”

“Hush.” A covers them with another blanket. “You took care of us, now let us take care of you.”

E is too feverish and cold and achy to protest, so they let them.

[letthewhumpbegin]

Hawaii Five-0, 1x13

My GIF masterlist

[themetaphorgirl]

Whumptober #16: Umbrella Academy

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

Set during season one. Diego had no idea his older-littler brother was bleeding out until he collapsed in Harold Jenkins' attic. He's been trying not to think too much about the whole Five coming back situation, but now he's forced to face it.

Five’s bedroom was still left the way it was when he disappeared sixteen years ago- when time passed and they realized he wasn’t coming back, they’d closed the door. It was a child’s room. The alphabet rug on the floor, the babyish wallpaper, the toy trucks and construction vehicles and robots. When they were twelve they were all still playing with toys, teetering on the verge of adolescence, except Five vanished a month after their thirteenth birthday and they grew up without him. “Where’s Delores?” Five mumbled, his eyes still closed. Grace kept working over his wound, cleaning away the blood and the liquid from the infection. Allison reached over and patted his hand, careful not to jostle the tube connecting them. “You’re okay, honey, lie still,” she said. Five was not one to lie still in the best of situations. “I need…I need Delores,” he insisted, trying to push himself up. “Where’s-” He cried out as Grace swabbed his open wound with alcohol and the sound felt like an arrow through his chest. “Okay, okay, chill ,” Diego said. He grabbed the mannequin even though it gave him the creeps and set it up on a chair in Five’s line of sight. “She’s right here, okay? Stop moving around so much.”

Read here!

[fiveapocalypse]

Chapter 2 is out guys. Bad things happen.

[aceofwhump]

Whumptober 2024 - No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Hawaii Five-0 1x12 "Hana 'a'a Makehewa" McGarrett discovers that the man who killed his father is still alive and threatening to kill Chin Ho with a bomb unless his ransom demand is met.

@whumptober

[where-is-my-whump]

The Umbrella Academy 4x02

[imagine-darksiders]

Future chapter of On the Ropes because I definitely want to write more black-eyed, feral Monty. He's not squeezing Y/n's wrist btw, he's still holding her gently, dw

[katstiel]

Can't believe a cop show (Hawaii Five-0) is slowly becoming one of my favorites in the year of 2024.

But honestly, it really isn't that surprising considering it's got my two favorite things: a homoerotic codependent pairing and lots and lots of delicious whump.

[autumndragon]

me, rewatching those specific scenes of the zippleback incident, midnight scrum, gold rush, stryke out, and triple cross: im very normal, actually