Thank you everyone for participating in Whumpcember! It would greatly help me if you all filled out these forms for the masterlist and feedback! See you all in a year!
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Completionist
Participant
Sade Olutola

Product Placement
Show & Tell
trying on a metaphor
d e v o n
Peter Solarz

Andulka

blake kathryn
tumblr dot com

shark vs the universe
KIROKAZE

@theartofmadeline

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Xuebing Du
cherry valley forever
Mike Driver
RMH

PR's Tumblrdome
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

pixel skylines
seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

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seen from France

seen from Malaysia
seen from Türkiye

seen from Malaysia

seen from Malaysia
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@whumpcember
Thank you everyone for participating in Whumpcember! It would greatly help me if you all filled out these forms for the masterlist and feedback! See you all in a year!
Feedback
Completionist
Participant
I just wanted to say thank you so much for running this event! Some other these prompts really helped me get through a bad writing slump and I really enjoyed seeing what other people made! Thank you!
Thank you so much! I really appreciate your kind words!
@whumpcember24 Day 21: Bruises
Holby City 22x22
Whumpcember 2024 Day 21
21: Bruises
Whumpee laid down gingerly on the hot ground, careful to not jostle their injured leg on the rocks beneath them. Whumpee's assailants were long since gone over the horizon, so they closed their eyes and tried to drift off, even with their leg still throbbing in pain from their attacks.
Day 24 @whumpcember - Walking on injuries.
The entire team are injured, running on fumes, but they cant stop. Set between the breaking point and the city.
CW: injuries, burns, gunshot wounds, living weapons.
I've never tried a 1st person inner monologue before... it was interesting to do.
Complex 27 On The Run Sam
@whumpcember24 Day 23: Overwhelmed
The Listener 5x7 Amuse Bouche
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Life or death, truth or lies, and an impossible choice….
When Amajiki is viciously attacked by an unknown villain, events begin to spiral out that could break the public's trust in heroes permanently. Heroes and students rush to find the ones responsible for the attack and stop the spread of misinformation before it's too late.
Then Todoroki goes missing…
Then Kaminari is attacked by the same villain that attacked Amajiki…
And someone's been watching everything and leaking every move the heroes make to the public. Can Aizawa rescue his students and put a stop to this…or will he be forced to choose between the kids he cares about and the rest of the world?
...
(@whumpcember Day Nineteen: Panic Attack -- Help is on the way…but will it be too late for Kaminari?)
His chest caught when he tried to breathe, and Denki had to blink rapidly as tears began to fill his eyes. “Am I gonna die?” he managed to whisper.
“No.” Aizawa’s voice was steady and firm. He left one hand on Denki’s chest and leaned in to rest the other on top of his head. “They already have medicines to counteract this. You might be sick for a little while, but you’ll make a full recovery.”
“You can’t promise that,” he whispered, a tear rolling down his cheek. His arms and legs wouldn’t move, and every breath was a struggle.
Aizawa leaned in until his head and shoulders were filling Denki’s field of vision. “I can, and I will,” he said. “I promise you, Denki Kaminari: you are not going to die.”
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Summary:
“He doesn’t mean what he’s saying, you know. He's not in his right mind right now.”
Midoriya sniffled and rubbed a hand across his eyes, “I know. And I would never hold it against him. I know it’s not his fault, it’s just...”
Bakugou allowed him time to finish, but realized Midoriya simply didn’t have the words. Or maybe he was just too tired to continue speaking.
Bakugou understood.
“Yeah. Yeah, I know,” Bakugou said lowly.
❄️ Whumpcember 2024 ❄️
Day 3: Begging; Day 7: Kidnapping
@whumpcember
Day 21 @whumpcember - brusies
Ash is injured again.
CW. Injuries, living weapon.
Let's hurt Ash some more and have Paul struggle to be in a caretaker role while simultaneously defending the complex 27 system 🤣
---
The door to Ash’s quarters slid open with a soft hiss, and Paul’s eyes immediately locked onto the familiar sight of his friend sprawled across the cot. Ash was lying flat on his back, one arm resting across his eyes as if trying to block out the harsh fluorescent lights overhead. His body was tense, as though bracing for something, though there was no immediate threat.
“What happened this time?” Paul’s voice was steady, though it carried an edge of frustration that he couldn’t entirely suppress. His gaze moved over Ash’s battered form - dark bruises blooming under his skin, some faint cuts along his jaw, and the unmistakable stiffness in his posture. It was the kind of sight Paul had seen countless times before, but it always stirred something deeper within him. Something he didn’t want to acknowledge.
Ash didn’t move, his breathing slow and shallow. The silence stretched on longer than it should have, the weight of the room pressing down on Paul. Finally, Ash spoke, his voice thin and tired. “I’m fine,” he muttered dismissively, sounding drained. “Just another mission, another complication.”
Paul’s brow furrowed, frustration bubbling under the surface. He took a few steps closer, studying Ash carefully. The bruises on his face were bad, but it was the stiffness in his posture—like he was holding himself together with sheer will—that made something twist in Paul’s gut.
Paul’s brow furrowed as he took a few steps closer, his gaze narrowing on Ash’s still form. “I’ve seen that look before,” he said, his words clipped. “What the hell did you do, Ash?”
Ash exhaled slowly, his arm shifting only enough to rest against his chest, his eyes fixed on the ceiling, distant. “78 pushed me off a fucking roof,” he muttered, as if the words themselves left a bad taste in his mouth.
Paul’s expression immediately darkened. His mind flashed to John—Asset 78. A sadistic, merciless bastard. But even for John, this seemed too brazen, too reckless.
"No he didn’t," Paul said sharply, his voice harder than he intended. "John’s a sadistic bastard, but even he wouldn’t have gotten away with tossing you off a roof. What happened, Ash?"
Ash’s arm finally moved away from his face, but his eyes remained fixed on the ceiling. For a long moment, he didn’t answer. Paul watched as the faintest of winces twisted Ash’s features, the kind of subtle pain someone tries to hide but can’t quite manage.
“Maybe I pissed him off,” Ash finally muttered, his voice thick with something Paul couldn’t place. “Doesn’t take much for him to take it too far.” His weight shifted slightly, and he grimaced, a sharp inhale escaping him as he shifted again, clearly trying to mask the pain. "Not that I was in the best state before," he added bitterly.
Something had definitely happened, he could see the evidence - bruises, cuts, tye subtle winces. But Ash was an asset, a living weapon. If he got hurt in the process, it was just part of the game, right?
He tried to ignore the tightening in his chest. "Let me see," Paul said, his voice lower now, the authority more firm. He needed to know the extent of the damage - not just for Ash’s sake, but for his own. If Ash wasn’t functioning, it reflected badly on them both. At least that’s what he told himself.
Ash hesitated, the moment stretching long between them. His eyes flicked to Paul’s face, unreadable. Then, with a soft curse under his breath, he slowly pushed himself up. The movement looked agonising, Ash’s breath caught in his chest, as if every inch of him was protesting the motion. But Paul didn’t move to help him - he knew better. Ash wouldn’t take it. Not unless he had to.
Ash’s gaze dropped to the edge of his shirt, and after a long, shaky breath, he lifted it just enough to reveal his ribs and side. A mottled patterns of purple and black, swollen and angry. Some marks were fresh, others older. The worst of them were along his ribs and side, where something heavy had clearly slammed into him. The sight of it made Paul’s chest tighten, but he quickly masked his reaction.
“Kerr know?” Paul asked quietly, as he moved to sit on the edge of the cot and inspected the damage to his friends torso, though the question felt almost pointless. He already knew the answer.
Ash shook his head slightly, not looking at Paul. “Do you really think Kerr would care?” his voice was thick, like he was trying to swallow the bitter taste in his mouth. “He’d just laugh. Might even throw me into A Block for being ‘weak.’” His body flinched as Paul’s hand brushed against his side, making him inhale sharply, though he did his best to conceal it.
Paul’s jaw clenched. He wanted to argue, wanted to say something—anything—that would make Ash feel like there was a chance of this being acknowledged, even by Kerr. But he couldn’t. The words felt hollow. He knew better. The Facility didn’t care about their well-being unless it interfered with their role.
“You should report it,” Paul said, the suggestion coming out more like an afterthought than anything else. He knew how pointless it was. Reporting it would only make Ash a bigger target. It would make things worse.
Ash let out a low, bitter laugh, his head sinking back onto the cot. “Report it? That’s a joke, Paul. Nothing would change. Kerr wouldn’t care, and neither would anyone else. The only time they care is when I’m no longer 'functional.'”
Paul fell silent, his gaze tracing the bruises, his mind in turmoil. Ash was right, but it still hurt to hear it out loud. The game, the system, it was all just about efficiency and obedience. If Ash couldn’t do his job, they’d throw him away. It was a bitter truth, and Paul hated that it was the reality they both lived in.
Maybe he should report it? John had killed assets before—at least, that was the rumor. If John was escalating his violence, targeting Ash… surely the handlers would want to know? But... would that be seen as Ash being unable to fight his own battles? The Facility didn’t want weak assets. Assets weren’t supposed to care about each other. Weren't meant to firm friendships. It was a liability, a risk.
The room fell quiet, the silence stretching until it felt suffocating. Paul’s chest tightened again, anger and helplessness mixing in a bitter knot. Ash had been hurt. Badly. Again. And neither of them could do a damn thing about it.
Finally, Paul spoke, his voice quieter, but firm. “You’re not just a fucking tool, Ash. I don’t care what the Facility thinks.”
Ash’s eyes flicked to him, a spark of something there—a flicker of gratitude or something more complicated—but then it was gone, replaced by that familiar weariness. He turned his gaze back to the ceiling. “Then you’re an idiot,” he muttered, "But... thanks. For what it's worth neither are you."
Paul didn’t respond. He couldn’t. The words wouldn’t fix anything. Nothing would. He knew that. They were trapped in the game, just like everyone else. The only thing left to do was play it and survive.
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Life or death, truth or lies, and an impossible choice….
When Amajiki is viciously attacked by an unknown villain, events begin to spiral out that could break the public's trust in heroes permanently. Heroes and students rush to find the ones responsible for the attack and stop the spread of misinformation before it's too late.
Then Todoroki goes missing…
Then Kaminari is attacked by the same villain that attacked Amajiki…
And someone's been watching everything and leaking every move the heroes make to the public. Can Aizawa rescue his students and put a stop to this…or will he be forced to choose between the kids he cares about and the rest of the world?
...
(@whumpcember Day Twenty, Alt 5: "You're Allowed to Fall Apart" -- With Dabi's identity revealed, Todoroki fights to keep himself together while Bakugou tries to get them both to safety.)
Bright orange fabric struck Shouto in the face. He pulled it away, eyes going wide as he stared at the bright orange hoodie. “It’s a hoodie.”
“The hood’ll cover your hair. Patchface might still be looking for ya.”
He frowned, staring at the broad shoulders and long hem. “It’s too big for me.”
“That’s to disguise your build.”
“There’s a tiger on the back.”
“So? People’ll remember the tiger. Not you.”
The Weight of Scars
The Weight of Scars by SweetMelitele
Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Summary
After weeks of enduring the persistent pain of a burn left untreated, Eskel finally seeks help—an act that feels foreign and almost wrong to him. Shani's gentle care and unwavering kindness leave him confused and unmoored. Day 22: Alt 3: Fire Whumpcember 2024
Series
Part 22 of To Heal a Witcher
@whumpcember
Day 24 @whumpcember - Walking on injuries.
The entire team are injured, running on fumes, but they cant stop. Set between the breaking point and the city.
CW: injuries, burns, gunshot wounds, living weapons.
I've never tried a 1st person inner monologue before... it was interesting to do.
Complex 27 On The Run Sam
An Archive of Our Own, a project of the Organization for Transformative Works
Life or death, truth or lies, and an impossible choice....
When Amajiki is viciously attacked by an unknown villain, events begin to spiral out that could break the public's trust in heroes permanently. Heroes and students rush to find the ones responsible for the attack and stop the spread of misinformation before it's too late.
Then Todoroki goes missing...
Then Kaminari is attacked by the same villain that attacked Amajiki...
And someone's been watching everything and leaking every move the heroes make to the public. Can Aizawa rescue his students and put a stop to this...or will he be forced to choose between the kids he cares about and the rest of the world?
...
(@whumpcember Day Twenty-One: Bruises -- Bakugou and Todoroki make their way to the hospital as Amajiki prepares to leave.)
“I’ll just get the rest of your paperwork, and you’ll be free to go, Mr. Amajiki,” the nurse announced, tidying away the bandages she’d removed. Tamaki watched her go, letting out a small grunt of surprise when Mirio sat on the bed next to him and wrapped an arm around his shoulders.
“Ready to go home?”
He nodded. These past few days had been a nightmare, and he just wanted to be in his own bed again. Safe and quiet and away from the rest of the world.
“Fat Gum said he can give us a ride, but it might take—hey!”
The door to Tamaki’s room swung open and a familiar redheaded figure burst into the room.
“Amajiki!” Kirishima launched himself at Tamaki, who barely had time to react before his arms were full of sobbing teenager. “You’re okay!” he cried, his voice muffled against Tamaki’s shoulder.
“Y-yeah?” He awkwardly patted Kirishima’s back as Mirio snickered next to him. “You, uh, you don’t have to cry. I’m okay.”
“It’s been a long day.” Fat Gum was in the doorway. His usual high spirits seemed subdued, and he offered an exhausted smile to Tamaki. “Good to see you on your feet, kid.”
Echoes of the Trials
Echoes of the Trials by SweetMelitele
Fandoms: Wiedźmin | The Witcher - All Media Types
Summary
As Geralt's recovery progresses, his short temper and constant frustration seem to worsen, driving away even those closest to him. Eskel, observing from the sidelines, recognises the signs of sensory overwhelm—a struggle Geralt faced as a child after his additional Witcher Trials. Day 23: Overwhelmed Whumpcember 2024
Series
Part 23 of To Heal a Witcher
@whumpcember
Some Poison Pie - Re-release
Fandom - Characters: SPN - Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, Gabriel
Rating: Explicit
Warnings and Tags: Major character injury, major character death, pie, hallucinations, poison, no happy ending, hurt no comfort, choking, open ending, whump, background Sabriel because I can't help myself,
Summary: Written for the @spnfanficpond November monthly prompt: Pie and expanded for the @whumpcember prompt: Poisoned
Author's Note: I posted this on Tumblr before, and it was just so short I wasn’t gonna cross post it to AO3, but I looked it over and added a bit for whumpcember, so I thought I'd post the updates version here too. I wrote this when I was really struggling to write nice things. While the original is open-ended, this one offers no comfort and no happy ending, everyone dies. For the more open-ended version, check out, my original tumblr post. Happy Reading?
hot chocolate for the soul 💝
@steddieholidaydrabbles day 23 prompt, ‘hot chocolate;’ @steddiemas week 4 prompt, ‘surprise,’ @whumpcember day 23 prompt, ‘overwhelmed.’
WC: 969; Rating: G; CW: None; Tags: fluff, found family, established steddie, mention of health conditions, Eddie lives HEA, soft everyone! Summary: Steve decides to surprise Eddie and Wayne with hot chocolate. He's got no idea of the emotional fireworks he’s going to unleash... (of the good variety!)
💝💝💝💝💝💝
Steve let himself in through the door, precariously balancing three hot-chocolate drinks. He was ridiculously proud that he’d got home with barely a slop. The cream and marshmallows hadn’t sunk totally flat yet.
“Honey!” Eddie rushed at Steve and plastered a wet kiss on his cheek. Steve almost yelped—okay, still no spillages. His coordination skills weren’t totally shot. “Mmmmm, mmmmm,” said Eddie. “That chocolate smells amazing, Babe. You shouldn’t have.”
“Yeah, I should’ve,” mumbled Steve. Eddie took the drinks, so he could slip out of his winter jacket. “I wanted to surprise you by doing something, I dunno, nice for a change? Sorry I was cranky this morning before work.”
“Huh? Didn’t notice.”
Eddie slipped his arm through Steve’s and led him to the kitchen area. Wayne stirred a big pan of bolognese sauce. He greeted Steve with a quiet ‘Hey,’ and a smile that could melt polar ice-caps.
“Hey,” smiled Steve, before plonking the drinks on the table and reverting his attention to Eddie. “What do you mean, ‘didn’t notice?’ You saying I’m always grouchy in the morning?”
“Wouldn’t have my bitchy darling any other way.” Eddie pressed Steve into a chair then headed to help Wayne. “Seriously, though, you were fine.”
Steve inhaled sharply, his chest kinda catching—partially on the delicious odours from Wayne’s cooking, overwhelming even the hot chocolate, though mainly on the emotions surging inside him.
He had been cranky this morning. He’d had a bad headache for days. Eddie and Wayne didn’t deserve to be dragged down by him. Hell, post-Vecna-everything, the ‘powers-that-be’ might have compensated the Munsons with a nice little house, but they couldn’t cure Eddie’s chronic pain and regular panic attacks any more than they could fix Steve’s.
Yet, here Steve was.
In the snuggest kitchen on earth, with his loving boyfriend and his kind uncle smiling down at him like he was sunshine itself. Then Wayne’s gaze alighted on the hot chocolate. He turned off the cooktop, his face turning deadly grave.
“You brought that, son? For us?”
“Uh, yeah?” Steve was suddenly nervous. He swallowed hard, watching Wayne’s Adam’s apple bob as he apparently mirrored him.
Then Wayne pulled out a chair, sat down opposite Steve. His face crumpled, and he burst into tears.
“Shit!” squeaked Steve, glancing up at Eddie, who also looked mildly alarmed. “Did I do something wrong?" On instinct, Steve reached across the table to Wayne, who grabbed Steve’s fingers.
“No, no.” Wayne sniffed. “It’s just… I guess I shouldn’t be surprised. It’s just… t-this year, I thought I lost my sweet boy. I thought I lost everything, and now… h-here we are… all together… I got me two sweet boys to love. Two.”
“Oh,” said Steve, very softly, still kinda panicking for reasons he wasn’t sure of. Fortunately, Eddie had totally got this. He plonked himself at Wayne’s side, threw his arms around him, and joined him in sobbing his heart out.
Psych 5x04 | Chivalry is not dead... But someone is
Whumpcember 2024, Day 18: Poisoned