#whumpster dumpster

[izzyizumi]

{D I G I M O N} Adventure {F r a n c h i s e} {x T{e}xt P o s t(s) M e m e} ~ Koushiro x Taichi {KouTai} / {TaiKou} / {Taishiro[u]}

{Crop’d by Me} {Do Not Re-p o s t} {Do Not C o p y} (A S K to U s e/S h a r e!) {Do Not re-p o s t to Other S i t e s Without my P e r m i s s i o n Under any circumstances!}

{S h a r i n g p r i v a t e l y amongst M u t u a l s is O.K, But Do Not RE-P O S T} *L I K E S O. K. *RE-B L O Gs O. K.!!

[marakings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Dean Winchester, Sam Winchester, John Winchester Additional Tags: whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2025, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Sam Winchester Whump, Hurt Sam Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, Neglect, Child Neglect, Hypothermia, Protective Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester is Sam Winchester's Parent, Bad Parent John Winchester, Teenchesters, Teen Sam Winchester, Teen Dean Winchester Series: Part 2 of Whumpril 2025 Prompts Summary:

Dean and Dad would be there in no time, right? Right, he was so used to it, these days would go flying. Twelve years was enough age for being home alone, anyway.

[ladycreatrix]

Graveyard Set Up

(@whumpster-dumpster Thank you for the prompt. These are my OCs, so despite me believing that no one will, I have to ask that no on use them. Thank you.)

Tumblr prompt: Grave robber digs up the wrong patch and discovers someone who's been buried alive.

Zane wiped both his sandy hair and the sweat away from his face. The cool dry air of the desert night felt refreshing as he dauntingly climbed out of the exhumed grave. Tossing the shovel to the side, Zane looked to his scrawny business partner. "Your turn, Freddy".

The copper haired man looked over to the other with excited pewter eyes. Grabbing a weathered medical bag, Freddy rushed past Zane and to the edge of the hole, "so what exactly am I taking off of the old bastard?"

"I need the right arm, right leg and head of this man," Zane panted, sitting on the ground to catch his breath. Pulling out his small journal, Zane read the contents aloud. "The head already has a buyer. A necromancer I think. And I need the limbs for something I'm working on".

With a simple nod, Freddy hopped into the grave with thud.

Zane took a minute to gather himself before taking on his next task as the lookout. Slightly cursing himself for picking poorly during their coin flip. Rules are rules, he thought. This was how the job was with a partner. Ever since Freddy joined with him in his more shady endeavors, Zane had been getting more done. Grave robbing was already hard work, but having an assistant that was actually intelligent and can carry his own weight was a relief. 

They decided flipping a coin was the fairest way to split the work. One would dig and fill the grave back up and stand watch for the guards while the other took what they needed from the grave and stood watch while the other dug. Given that there was someone always on watch, both Zane and Freddy agreed that the work was evenly spread. 

The familiar sound of the casket giving way drew Zane from his thoughts and the unexpected gasp made him jump to immediate panic. He rushed to the grave to see Freddy standing over the open casket.

"There's a woman in here!" Freddy panic whispered. "And she is still breathing! Fucking all-mother, she's alive!"

Zane peered around Freddy to see a young dark haired woman curled up in the casket. Her bloodied fingers matching the claw marks on the inside of the shredded cloth lid. Her breathing was shallow and uneven. Much longer in the grave and she would have met her end Zane guessed. The sound of clanking armor and hastened footsteps sent Zane's panic into overdrive. The guards should be making their rounds in another thirty minutes, not now. Unless…

"Freddy grab the girl and let's go! We've been set up!"

"Why should we take her? It's kidnapping!"

"If we get caught with her here, it's attempted murder! If she comes with us, we can ask her who would want to put her in some old man's grave. Probably the same people who wanted us to dig this old man up".

Freddy shrugged, not arguing with that logic. Together, both men hoisted the unconscious woman out of the grave and the three escaped capture. 

Zane always assumed that he and Freddy were going to make enemies, but being set up was completely different. 

The men got back to their home safely and Zane started to care for the woman. Between his medical history and Freddy's help, they were able to mend the woman's injured hands. Her breathing and complexion improved by morning, all they had to do was wait for her to wake. 

Freddy and Zane had so many questions. Hopefully their new house guest was willing or able to answer them.

[yourplasticpal]

I've been stuck, like STUCK-stuck, on my drabble project for a bit, so I've gone ahead and posted what I have (three chapters of a planned seven). The whole thing is thoroughly outlined, it's just the refining process that's refusing to cooperate. Hopefully this will give me a jumpstart. Encouraging words would be more appreciated than you know. I would also be very grateful if you see anything that needs tagging that I didn't, please let me know.

This is for @whumpster-dumpster and their whump drabble challenge, btw.

I've gone with the author name @intermittentwit . I also have a tumblr, where I'll be posting only writing. All my outbursts of nonsense are going to stay here.

[strawberry-whump]

Lonan: I don't know, but I guess being betrayed and kidnapped and tortured.

Aaron: Being unnamed whumper's victim

Character development question: What would be a fate worse than death for your whumpee?

[nealsneen]

Diego Luna in Open Range (2003) as Button 1/2

GIFS: nealseen Look out for the second part coming up :-) @whumpster-dumpster @justwhumpythings @justwhump @whumpglorious @mostlyhurt @hurtcomfcrt @whumperflies @aceofwhump @whumperfect @whump-galore @set-phasers-to-whump @fyeahvulnerablemen @aceofwhump

[whumpetywhumpwhump]

https://www.tumblr.com/whumpster-dumpster/787196960882950144?source=share

When someone is feverish and dozing somewhere that isn’t necessarily private, so they keep getting roused from their slumber by other people going about their lives in the vicinity. Every now and then someone stops ask them how they’re feeling or take their temperature, to which they respond by rolling over with a groan and drifting back into a restless sleep.

UGH YES!!! This one is especially good for Carter/Robby because a hospital is obviously a very public environment and even if they're not a patient, if they're napping somewhere, they're going to be constantly checked on.

i.e with Carter, I can imagine him dozing in the doctor's lounge and being subjected to temp checks and hair ruffles whenever anybody enters the room

[deviant-doughnut]

#1: Ache

Prompt from the 100 Drabble Challenge: Whump Edition by @whumpster-dumpster (thanks so much for this list of prompts, they're all so fun!)

Content Warning: Non Con.

Underneath Whumper, Whumpee is achingly hard. He shouldn’t be. His face burns with shame and he’s glad Whumper has him facedown today. He turns toward the pillow, doesn’t fight it when his eyes suddenly sting. The tears come, grey pillowcase staining darker with them as Whumper sets a punishing rhythm. Above him, the desperate bursts of Whumper’s gasps. Beneath him, the metal bed protesting loudly, squeaking at the apex of every harsh thrust. Skin smacks against skin, Whumper fucking into him with fervour. 

“Oh fuck,” Whumper breathes. “Oh, Whumpee. This is incredible. You’re perfect like this. Oh fuck.” 

It hurts.

[marakings]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Supernatural (TV 2005) Rating: General Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Dean Winchester & Sam Winchester Characters: Sam Winchester, Dean Winchester Additional Tags: whumprilday12, whumpril2025, dislocation, Hurt Sam Winchester, Angry Dean Winchester, Worried Dean Winchester, Teenchesters, Teen Sam Winchester, Teen Dean Winchester, Prompt Fic, Tumblr Prompt, Emotionally Repressed Dean Winchester, Emotionally Hurt Sam Winchester, whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2025 Series: Part 1 of Whumpril 2025 Prompts Summary:

Sam wouldn’t shut up. He wouldn't shut up, and Dean was starting to lose patience.

[electrikworm]

100 Drabble Challenge: Part 1

Trying out the 100 Drabble whump challenge by @whumpster-dumpster to get back in the flow of writing. All of these will be centred around Cal Kestis :)

You can find the challenge here, if you'd like to try it yourself :D

Ao3

1. Ache

Cal hisses as his leg gives out from under him, almost sending him sprawling into the mud. Since the dark clouds over Zeffo accumulated, rain whipping down steadily, the ache in Cal's knee has been getting worse.

He almost has to laugh at how familiar the sensation is, so much so that he almost welcomes it. Since Cal smashed his knee in a scrapping accident, every bout of rain on Bracca brought about the same sensation.

BD whistles inquisitively at Cal's pained noise, wanting to know if Cal's injured.

“I'm fine. Old wound, nothing you can do about it.”

Stumbling backwards, away from the flame beetle's corpse, Cal's barely able to breath. It burst too close to him, splattering the burning chemicals it produces across Cal's uncovered arm.

2. Burn

Dropping to his knees, Cal desperately tries to get as much of the substance off his arm as possible, thankful for the thick glove he wears. He has to take it off once he's done.

Still inhaling air in short gasps, Cal holds his arm away from himself, hesitant to touch the blistered skin covering his forearm. The pain is near unbearable.

With shaking hands, Cal takes the stim BD offers.

3. Cut

“You don't have to do this,” Cal sighs. Greez looks a little pale as he holds Cal's hand up to the light BD is shining for them.

“You cut yourself helping me fix the Mantis, you're not dealing with this alone.” Swearing in latero, Greez wipes the cut across the back of Cal's hand with disinfectant. Hissing at the burst of pain, Cal almost pulls his arm back.

“Sorry,” Greez says quickly, continuing to fuss over the small injury whilst muttering about the amount of blood. Cal doesn't understand his worry, but lets Greez work without commenting.

Heart thundering in his chest, Cal shuffles along a corroded wall. He dropped his torch after picking up an echo, leaving him stranded in the dark.

4. Darkness

Every shadow looks like a threat, like a beast waiting to devour him, like that one scrapper that got drunk and beat Cal, like clones. Like the clones he saw in the echo, hunting down a padawan Cal never even got the name of. Unlike Cal, she didn't survive, she didn't let her Master die to save herself.

The darkness seems to want to choke Cal as he forces himself to stumble forward weakly.

5. Faint

Someone shouting his name is the first thing Cal becomes aware of. Then it's the throbbing pain in his head, like his brain is trying to break through his skull.

Groaning, Cal opens his eyes. Everything's blurred and swaying, making Cal's nausea worse. When his vision focuses, Cal's eyes land on a familiar face.

Prauf sighs in relief as he watches Cal stir. “Gave us a scare there, Cal. You just dropped.”

Cal hunches. He's too old to be passing out from echo's, not to mention how dangerous doing so is. Apologizing, Cal scrambles to his feet and keeps working.

6. Cough

Tears threaten to fall across Cal's face as another coughing fit hits him. BD chirps in sympathy. Cal can't ever afford to be sick, couldn't on Bracca, can't now that's he's fighting the Empire either. Of course he had to fall ill now, with multiple freshly broken ribs.

Usually, Cal could keep going, no matter how unwell he was. But this time, Cal is reduced to laying awkwardly propped up on his cot with a pillow pressed to his chest to try and brace against the spikes of pain. Cal's rarely felt this useless before, and that's saying a lot.

7. Stranded

Cal swears in every language he knows how to as he sits up, inadvertently shifting his leg as he sits up. The pain makes him feel like he's going to be sick, the sight of his twisted limb not making the sensation any better.

Above the knee, Cal's leg is bent entirely wrong. He can't help the whimper that escapes him as he tries to push himself from the ground. Without stims, Cal knows he won't be able to get up the small cliff. BD ran out a while ago.

“Can't move,” Cal admits, hating having to do so.

8. Weak

“Shouldn't be this weak,” Cal thinks to himself. Hands shaking as he's forced to lean on the wall, breath ragged, Cal can't press his hand to his side, it hurts so much. Sweat coats his skin.

Since Nur, since he got stabbed, Cal's body's been trying to kill him. On top of an infection he got sick, rendering him useless. Even the action of getting water from the kitchen seemed impossible. Cal sinks to the ground.

BD's charging, rest of the crews whereabouts unknown. Having burdened them enough, Cal doesn't call for assistance. Instead, he waits where he fell.

9. Temperature

Merrin watches Cal with narrowed eyes, leaning across the kitchen table suddenly. Her hand darts forward, startling Cal when it comes to rest on his cheek. Cal almost flinches at how cold her hand is, but the sensation is welcome. If doing so wasn't so mortifying, Cal would lean into the contact.

“What temperature are humans supposed to be?” she asks, eyeing Cal suspiciously as she glances over at Cere. Before Cal can protest, Cere's pressed the back of her hand to Cal's forehead.

“Certainly not that one.”

Cal's being escorted back to the engine room in seconds.

10. Stumble

Despite his best efforts, Cal trips as he enters the Mantis. Stumbling forwards, almost hitting Merrin, he's brought to a halt by the Nightsister steadying him.

Inhaling sharply as her hand brushes his side, Cal tries to disguise the noise by moving away. But Merrin's already grabbed the edge of his poncho, exposing the blaster wound on his flank.

“It's nothing, really.” Cal quickly goes quiet when Merrin glares at him. After what Cal just saw her do to those stormtroopers, it's best he doesn't argue with her.

“You're letting me look at that,” she says with finality.

[fairy-writes]

New to requesting so please tell me if this is the incorrect way to do it Im obssessed with your writing can I request

Uta x human reader angst/comfort

SCARS

Reblogs and Comments are greatly appreciated!!

__________________________________________________________________________

Fandom(s): Tokyo Ghoul

Pairing(s): Uta x Reader

Word Count: 

Genre(s)/Tag(s): Gender Neutral!Reader, Human!Reader, CCG Investigator!Reader, Angst, Comfort

Notes: I used THIS prompt by @whumpster-dumpster as… well… a prompt!

This is also the same reader used in both THIS and THIS oneshot!

TW for blood and injuries

__________________________________________________________________________

Uta should’ve known you had scars. 

It was practically part of your job description as a CCG Investigator. 

He just didn’t expect them to be so… severe. 

It was an accident, really, seeing them. Uta had popped by your apartment after a long week, intending to take you out on your weekly date night. He had let himself in with his key and spied your briefcase containing your quinque and white trenchcoat tossed on the couch. 

So you were home. 

He had changed into indoor slippers and meandered his way down the hall. Knocking on your bedroom door and hearing no answer, he opened it and peeked his head inside. 

Only to come face to face with your bloody back. 

How had he not smelled it before? He was a ghoul, after all, maybe he just wasn’t paying attention to his nose.

Admittedly, at first, he panicked. But he managed to school his face into a perfect calm when you whirled around to face him. 

“What are you doing here?!” You demanded, and he shrugged, the scent of drying blood tickling his nose.

“I did knock.” Was all he said as he took your demand as an invitation to enter your bedroom. 

The sheets of your bed are rumpled and bloodstained. Maybe you had been sleeping and woken up because of the blood? 

Your white button-down is in a crumpled heap on the floor, and you’re holding a roll of bandages in red-stained fingertips. Uta’s words make you scoff, and you turn around to try and keep wrapping your injuries. 

“I asked why you were here.” You say sharply, and he hums as he sits behind you on the bed.

“It’s date night.” He says simply, and you let out a pained laugh,

“I don’t think I’m in the best position to go out on the town tonight.” You say, and he gently pries the bandages from your hands and wraps your torso for you. 

He’s done this before, but never to this extent. A scratch here, some stitches there, he forgets sometimes that you humans are so fragile. 

Uta is gentle as he passes the roll from hand to hand and wraps your injuries. 

Your wounds are deep, though not deep enough to need stitches. They’re angry, red, and inflamed as if an infection is beginning to set in. If he had to guess, you are probably hurt because of a fellow ghoul. He shakes his head. He can ask for details later. 

When he’s done, he secures the wrappings and pats your shoulder twice. But his eyes keep tracing the raised ridges of skin that decorate your back like Christmas lights. 

At least, until you turn around and catch just what he’s looking at. 

And your face turns angry.  You push Uta away with harsh words.

“What? What’s your problem, huh?” You snap, and he raises an eyebrow. 

You keep going, 

“Are you afraid to look at my scars? Disgusted? You think you’re too good for me now that I’m ‘damaged goods’?”

“Of course not.” He says gently, trying to calm you down, but you just keep going. Tears well up and streak your cheeks. But you push him away when he tries to reach for you.

“Then look at me like I’m still a person! Look at me like you used to! Like you love me!” 

He finally pins your arms down and pulls you into a hug. Gently, of course, so as not to aggravate your back. He presses a kiss to your temple.

“I still love you. Fiercely and unconditionally. A few scars aren’t going to change that.” He says and feels you thump his chest with a weak fist. It doesn’t hurt. Not physically, at least. But his heart breaks at your shaking form in his arms. 

“Then why look at me like I’ve changed?” You whisper, and he rocks you back and forth.

“Because you have changed. We all change when you think about it.” He says and feels your tears wet his sweater.

“Don’t get deep with me. Not when I’m injured.” He huffs out a chuckle and pulls back, checking you over once again. 

You’re okay. 

And that’s all he can ask for.

[xplot-buni]

April 24th - Sensory Overload | A Bit Much

Relationship: Logan | Wolverine (X-Men) & Reader

Additional Tags: Sensory Overload, Autistic Reader-Insert, whumpster-dumpster's Whumpril 2025, Whump, Hurt/Comfort, Soft Logan | Wolverine (X-Men), No Y/N used, Gender-Neutral Reader-Insert, No Pronouns for Reader-Insert, Logan | Wolverine Has a Heart (X-Men)

Word Count: 356

Summary

Some days everything can be just a bit much for your sensitive senses Whumpril 2025, 24th - Sensory Overload

Read on AO3

@whumpril, @lostinlovingrevery (i think u mentioned u wanted to be tagged in any lo x readers i made!)

It’s loud. Really loud.

You had decided to go outside with the students during recess today, just to sit and relax. But now everything was feeling so loud, and the sun is too bright.

This was proving to be the very opposite of relaxing and you needed to get out.

Logan and Jean were on the other side of the courtyard. The kids would be fine without you right now. You just needed to get out of here before you have a full-blown meltdown.

You stand up from the bench you were sitting on and begin to wander off away from everything. The overstimulation has you a bit dizzy and disoriented, but you make do.

You find yourself a spot in the woods on the property, settling against a large tree. It's shaded and much quieter here, the only sound being the occasional chirp of birds and the leaves rustling against each other in the wind.

Finally somewhere safe, you try and guide yourself through deep breaths. It takes a few minutes, but you manage to get your heart down to a more regular pace. Calmer now, you decide to take a bit just to wait, take the time to enjoy the nature around you.

---

You're not sure how long it's been, that you've just been sitting there, when you hear someone calling your name. You stir a bit, looking around for the source. You realize it's Logan when he shouts a second time. You call back out to him in response.

"There ya are." He says, half to himself, as he spots you. "Had the kids and Ororo worried." He sits down beside you.

"Sorry." You shrug.

"So what's got you out here, bub?"

"Just a bit too much going on..."

He huffs a bit. "Yeah, the world can be a bit much." You give a slight nod in response.

After that the two of you sit in silence for a couple minutes, before he offers to walk you back. “Come on. We can probably see if Hank has any ideas to help.” He holds his hand out, pulling you up when you take it.

[waywardsou2]

Judgment Free Hall of Shame

New Game!

Tag 5 of your writing friends and challenge them to reaveal

# of WIPs

# of abandoned projects

And one guilty project

I dare you

My own answers WIPS - 2 Abandoned Projects - 7 Guilty project - The Thunderbolts one-shot I'm making without having finished anything else

@desired-misery @fionajames @kybercrystals94 @whumpster-dumpster

[librathefangirl]

I wrote this like 2 weeks ago and then forgot about it...

For @whumpster-dumpster's prompt: "Are you just taking care of me or do you actually care about me?"

Warnings: implied/referenced child abuse.

---

"Are you just taking care of me or do you actually care about me?"

Meliodas paused, glancing over his shoulder at Merlin. The fire had been reignited in her eyes. The uncertainty replaced by fierce independence. Meliodas had a feeling they were both rooted in fear. The scared little girl who ran away from a bad home. She wasn't going to let it show, though. Not even to someone who had been there and seen it.

She reminded him of his little brother.

"Right." Meliodas crossed his arms, turning around to face her. "Because demons are known to just throw kindness around for no reason."

"I didn't say you didn't have a reason," she shot back, crossing her own arms. "I just asked what it was."

"What, like some misplaced sense of responsibility?"

It wasn't too far from the truth, actually. A lone kid in a world that didn't care? It was a hard thing to forget. Something he couldn't let go of; for reasons he didn't want to consider.

"What am I supposed to think? Why else would you be here?"

"Well, why would I feel responsible?"

Logically, what happened to her didn't have anything to do with him. Not now, and not even when they first met. He had come across her by accident. She wasn't something he was supposed to care about.

"I don't even know you."

"Exactly. You don't know me, but you still keep coming back here!" Her nails dug into the skin of her arms. "Demons don't normally go around saving random kids."

She wasn't wrong. Humans, demons – it didn't matter what you were, the world was filled by random kids who needed someone to save them.

And rarely did it actually happen.

People just didn't care enough to fight their family for them. Especially when that family had power.

Shit.

Her eyes shone with tears, but her gaze was relentless, scrutinizing; looking for the catch.

It wasn't just Zeldris she reminded him of.

It never had been. No matter how much he tried to avoid it. If you had to try not to think about something, it was already too late.

"Everybody has a reason."

She was young, but she wasn't the little kid she was supposed to be. She hadn't been allowed to be that. Not with that kind of childhood. Not with that kind of father.

"Everybody wants something."

It was a story Meliodas knew all too well.

"Look, you're right. I did have a reason, but-"

Just because Meliodas knew the story, it didn't mean he knew how to handle it. How to express it; let her know that she wasn't alone, that he understood.

"It- It isn't like that."

He didn't know what expectations she was used to, but he had a feeling. He could make some educated guesses. Too educated. Nothing he came up with sat well with him.

"I'm not looking for a favor or anything. Honestly."

If he hadn't thought it would make her bolt, he would have stepped closer. He would have knelt down, put his hand on her shoulder, and made sure she met his eyes. Just like he'd done when Zeldris was little.

But this wasn't Zeldris. And Meliodas hadn't known how to do that right in years.

"I'm not expecting anything from you. Okay?"

Even across the distance, he could see the uncertainty creep back in her eyes.

"Trust me, kiddo, I'm here because I do care. That's all."

Asking for her trust was a bold thing. Meliodas wasn't sure he would have accepted it himself. He barely even knew what he was doing. But Merlin had taken his hand once before, he hoped she would do it again.

"I don't think either of us has the luxury for those kind of games."

You did things because you had to, or you did things because you cared. Meliodas was getting too tired for anything else.

[whump-in-the-closet]

what is a whump

hey there

you've stumbled on a pretty great trope where a character is hurt physically/emotionally/psychologically; then the effects and physicality are explored in-depth. It's about the vulnerability and katharis, yk?

So that was vague...but whump is a vague term, without a real hard and fast definition, at least for me. BUT! Here's a link by whumpster-dumpster that gives a more concrete answer, and terms for whumper/whumpee, etc.

Hope this helped!

[checkeredblueskirt]

Whumpril 2025 - Alternative Prompt: Silent Tears

Fandom: RotTMNT

Description: Raph should know better than to expect much from Splinter when it comes to birthday presents. He still ends up disappointed each time.

Ao3 link for Unhappy Birthday

@whumpster-dumpster @whumpril