buckets of whump

ao3 literally advises that people copy-and-paste their works from elsewhere and to NOT write directly onto the site.

because unless and until it’s posted, ao3 does NOT back up works for you. meaning if your screen crashes, if the site glitches, if your wifi stops working, or if you lose power — anything — you risk losing the whole thing you’ve written.

sure, you can technically save drafts on ao3 (up to 30 days, if memory serves me right), but it’s still not something most writers do. most writers copy and paste their own works from elsewhere onto ao3 prior to posting (I say this with respect, this is a common sense).

"What are you doing?"

"Protecting you????"

✧ Broken ribs suck. You don’t just “walk it off.” Breathing hurts. Laughing hurts. Existing hurts. Characters with rib injuries won’t be doing heroic sprints.

✧ Concussions aren’t instant naps. Dazed vision, nausea, dizziness, maybe even personality changes, but they’re not going to collapse neatly like in the movies.

✧ Blood loss is sneaky. It’s not just about dramatic pools of blood. It’s dizziness, confusion, and the body getting cold as circulation tanks.

✧ Adrenaline lies. Someone can take a serious injury and not feel it until the fight’s over. That “I didn’t realize I was bleeding until later” trope? Very real.

✧ Twisted ankles are brutal. One bad step and suddenly running is off the table. Even walking hurts like hell. Perfect way to ground a chase scene.

✧ Burns linger. Even small burns hurt more than most people expect. Blisters, infection risk, constant pain, it’s not just a cool scar later.

✧ Dislocated shoulders = useless arm. Characters can’t keep swinging a sword or firing a gun. They’re basically fighting one-armed until it’s fixed.

✧ Shock is a thing. Pale skin, trembling, rapid heartbeat, and eventually disorientation. A character might not even realize how bad their wound is.

✧ Stitches aren’t magic. Getting sewn up is painful and recovery takes time. They’re not instantly battle-ready after a needle and thread.

 STOIC AND HARDWORKING WHUMPEE ASSURING “No, I’m fine. I can keep working,” BEFORE PASSING OUT FROM SHEER EXHAUSTION OF BEING OVERWORKED

MEDIC WHUMPEE PASSING OUT FROM THE PAIN OF GETTING INJURED OR SOMETHING WITH NO PAINKILLERS

LEADER WHUMPEE PASSING OUT AFTER SPENDING ALL NIGHT CHECKING ON ALL OF THEIR INJURED TEAMMATES

SOLDIER OR LIVING WEAPON WHUMPEE PASSING OUT IN THE MIDDLE OF TRAINING FROM LOCKING THEIR KNEES FOR TOO LONG

☽ Memory becomes absolute garbage. Like “why am I in the kitchen?” garbage. “What was I saying?” garbage. Their brain is running on buffering screens and regret.

☽ Fine motor skills? Ha. They’re dropping everything. Pens. Phones. Entire moral compass. They’re basically a malfunctioning claw machine.

☽ Hallucinations creep in. That jacket on the chair? Suddenly a person. That noise? Definitely doom. Everything becomes mildly haunted.

☽ Time gets weird. Five minutes feel like a year. A full hour disappears and they swear they blinked wrong.

☽ Irritation skyrockets. They get mad at chairs. At air. At gravity. At the audacity of other humans continuing to exist.

☽ Their voice sounds weird. Slow, scratchy, like they swallowed sand.

☽ They walk like a drunk baby giraffe. Walls suddenly jump closer. Floors rise unexpectedly. Coordination said: “I’m out.”

☽ Zoning out becomes a hobby. They stare at random objects like they’re trying to understand quantum mechanics.

☽ Vision blurs in and out. Like someone smeared Vaseline over their eyeballs out of spite.

☽ Their body just hurts. Not a dramatic pain, just the “why does my skeleton feel like it’s buzzing?” pain.

☽ Food cravings go feral. They’d fight someone for a stale cookie.

☽ Terrible choices. They will absolutely say “I’m fine” while making decisions that end in disaster.

☽ Random emotional implosions. Crying because their sock feels wrong? Yes.