#headache whumptrope

[every-whump-in-a-while]

Sam's premonitions get an upgrade from dreams to painful waking visions.

[whumpapalooza]

The Whumps of March '25 - Mar 1

Cheers, @storyweaverofgondor! You've given me the burst of motivation to share some OCs I've been working on that lean more towards fantasy. Thanks for fostering creativity in our community!

Day 1 - “All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given us.”

A fellow with amnesia woke inside a treehouse.

He was given a potion for his pain by a pair of women with the same face. Then a witch with a temper came to chew him out, followed by a sprite who kept things from getting out of hand. Then came a man with a crown of horns to match the green wings on his back, and a rabbit with a vocabulary more colorful than the dyes in his pelt.

Put simply: it was a weird day for the fellow with no memories.

Since he couldn’t remember his name, they offered him one: Mahogany. When they found out he didn’t have a place to stay, they offered him that, too.

They made him dinner. They made up a bed for him in an already-cramped room. Mahogany thanked them, shared drinks with them – and then, when all had gone to sleep, Mahogany finally had a moment alone.

He slipped outside the kitchen and onto a balcony. He peered through a sparse section of leaves that revealed a storm coming from the west. The wind was slow, but masses of dark clouds rolled in the distance. It was hard to tell whether the rain would reach them tonight or not.

“The fresh air out here is fantastic, isn’t it?”

Mahogany turned to see his new roommate, several yards away, just outside the kitchen door. “Oh, Whistle,” he said. “Hello.”

As a sprite, Whistle didn’t have a true physical form. Instead, they were made of ethereal silver energy. There had been several moments, early in the day, that Mahogany wondered if Whistle was just a trick of the light. Their visage shimmered like it wasn’t meant to be perceived, and they spoke with something like the echo of a voice.

Although Whistle’s presence was a bit unnerving, the sprite was reasonably friendly. “You’ve got the right idea,” they said. They gestured to the balcony. “May I?” Mahogany nodded, and Whistle glided up beside him.

The pair watched the clouds ride the horizon. Lightning sparked through different gray clumps, and the storm stirred in the breeze, tickling the inside of Mahogany’s ears.

Then, Whistle spoke. “I’m sorry about your memory. I know that’s not much, but I am.” Thunder rumbled through the silence where Mahogany’s reply was supposed to go. Whistle didn’t push it. “How’s the head?” they asked instead.

Mahogany hummed. “Better,” he said. The relentless aching he’d woken up with was fading, and the world didn’t seem so full of fluff anymore. “Rish is pretty good at brewing those potions.”

Whistle chuckled. “She’s had a lot of practice; we’re each a different kind of idiot. You’ll see.”

Mahogany’s eyes drifted up at the leafy canopy. “Thanks, you know. For letting me stay.”

“We’re happy to.” Lightning flashed in the distance. Whistle started drumming their fingers while they waited for the thunder. “If it helps,” they ventured, “there’s actually a few of us here who are, in a way…blank slates.”

Mahogany looked down at hands he didn’t recognize. “Got any advice?”

“Not really. Did you want some?”

“Kind of, yes.”

Whistle stared out at the clouds. They were smiling, but their silvery face was dappled with duller grays. “Well then, how’s this? You can’t change the past, you can’t freeze the present, and you can’t know the future. All you can do is use what you have now, and move forward.”

As far as advice, it wasn’t very comforting. Mahogany curled his fingers over the railing. “I don’t know what I should do,” he said.

“At this hour, maybe sleep?” Whistle suggested. He nodded his head to the treehouse. “Whether you’re spiraling out here or sleeping in there, night will pass and dawn will break. The choice right now is whether or not you’d like some shuteye before morning. Everything else? It’ll come.”

Mahogany breathed in and tasted rain. Closing his eyes, he could hear the distant deluge. Then he turned to his roommate. “Okay. Sleep it is, then.”

[every-whump-in-a-while]

Toby is assaulted by his telepathic powers (coming from a car crash nearby), and his reaction worries Oz.

[every-whump-in-a-while]

Sam is on his own when another vision hits him. He follows its clues as best he can, then details everything to Dean and their father - who hadn't yet known about his son's psychic powers.

[every-whump-in-a-while]

Sam has another series of painful visions related to Azazel's chosen psychics.

[whumpapalooza]

New sideblog for video stuff! @every-whump-in-a-while

Also, trying to be more conscious of how tumblr's search stuff works, and not clogging genuine tags, I've started using "whumptrope" as an indicator in my tags.

Example - 'headache whumptrope' (as opposed to 'headache')