Fanfics mostly

Thankfully, getting Blue out of the forest and back to the others wasn't too difficult. Once his injured wing was secure, Scarlet and Grey helped him to his hooves and walked with him through the trees. 

Scarlet walked a few paces ahead, making sure they didn't get lost, whilst Grey stayed at Blue's side, one wing curled protectively over his back.

Blue barely said a word on the way back to Cloudbase. The flight being quiet was normal enough, they were often tired after a long day, after all. But the uneasy feeling that lingered in the air wasn't, and Scarlet didn't know what to do about it.

Magenta and Ochre were in the cockpit, leaving him and Grey in the cabin with Blue, who had sat down by the window and not taken his eyes from the sky outside ever since.

Grey clearly understood what he was going through. No doubt he'd been through something similar after his accident with WASP. That had damaged his wings, as well as the rest of him. But Scarlet had no idea how to approach this. 

He wanted to talk to Adam, to comfort him and reassure him that everything would be okay. But it wasn't that simple.

In theory a broken wing shouldn't be different from any other injury. But that wasn't really true. It was also one of few injuries that Scarlet hadn't experienced himself, and one of even fewer that he never would experience. For the simple reason that he was not a pegasus.

He hated not knowing what to do. Especially when his friends were involved.

About halfway through the flight back to Cloudbase, Brad found him in the galley, staring at the water in his cup rather than drinking it.

Paul's ear twitched as Brad's hoof-steps pulled him back to the world around him.

"Hey," Brad said, slightly hushed. "I think he's asleep," he added, glancing over his shoulder into the cabin.

"Is he?" Paul asked, and Brad nodded. "It'll be another hour or so before we get to Cloudbase. The rest will do him good."

Brad hummed in response and took a step closer to Paul. "Are you okay?"

"Me? I'm fine. I'm not the one who got hurt."

Brad didn't look convinced, and Paul didn't blame him. The other Captains all knew him too well to let him get away with the 'I'm fine' card anymore.

Paul sighed and set his cup down on the counter, the gentle hum of his magic fading as the glow around his horn dissipated. "I'm just worried, that's all."

Brad gave another nod, clearly glad to get a more accurate answer that time. "I'm worried too. A broken wing is awful for any pegasus, but for a pegasus like Adam... I'm sure the worst possible outcomes are swirling through his head right now, and to be honest, I don't blame him. It's scary."

"That fear I can understand, to a degree, anyway," Paul said, lifting a hoof to touch his horn. "A broken horn still scares me. It happening to Pat is even more terrifying, because that wouldn't heal, and it could kill him," he explained, before dropping his hoof back to the floor. "But a broken wing is different."

"I don't think it's that different," Brad said with a small shrug. "But I'm a pegasus with unicorn family, and I have damaged my wings pretty badly and come out the other side able to fly again. So maybe my perspective isn't the same."

"I don't know." Paul sighed again. "But what I do know, is that Adam won't be able to fly for a while, and regardless of what Fawn tells him, he's going to hate every minute of it. He gets restless just being stuck inside for too many days in a row. Being completely grounded and unable to stretch his wings, not even able to fly a few laps of the sports hall, will be really hard on him."

"It will. So we'll have to support him through it. Same as we always do when one of us gets hurt." And Brad was right, of course.

-----

Adam slept for the remainder of the flight, and didn't stir until Paul gently woke him as they approached Cloudbase.

There were medics waiting for them in the hangar, Doctor Fawn included, and they quickly made their way over to Adam as soon as he was out of the plane. Paul followed as the med-team took Adam to sickbay, leaving post-mission debriefs to Pat, Brad, and Rich to handle.

One of the medics spoke to Scarlet on the walk through Cloudbase's long corridors towards the sickbay. The young pegasus stallion's ears flicked back, his feathers twitching at his sides, as Scarlet gave him the details. A barely contained flinch just at the mention of somepony breaking their wing. It really was a universal fear amongst pegasi. Not that Paul had doubted that, but seeing it with his own eyes outside of Adam grimacing when Brad got a little too detailed about exactly how badly beaten up his wings had been after his accident, was certainly something.

He didn't really know what. But something.

Fawn restricted Paul to the waiting room and told him to stay put. He wouldn't deal with Paul's worrying whilst trying to treat a patient. But that wasn't new.

So, he waited. And after about ten minutes the waiting turned to pacing. Adam wasn't in any immediate danger, but Paul was still worried, and he didn't like sitting around at the best of times.

Half an hour passed before Fawn appeared. Well, Paul heard him before he saw him - the distinctive click click click of hooves on the hard floors approaching the room. Paul stopped his pacing and turned to the door, his ears pricked forward and alert as Fawn stepped into the waiting area.

“How is he?” Paul asked before he could stop himself.

“Shaken and bruised, but the worst of it is his wing,” Fawn said simply.

“Broken?”

“Yes,” Fawn nodded. “As broken wings go it’s not too severe. Though I would say it was quite close.”

Paul tilted his head to the side slightly, confused. “What do you mean?”

Fawn thought for a moment before sitting back on his haunches. He lifted his front hooves and pointed just above his bent elbow. “The fracture would be about here on a leg, close to the elbow.” He moved his hoof down and tapped the joint. “If it had been even an inch closer, it could have easily complicated things,” he explained before standing up straight again. “However, as it stands, he shouldn’t need surgery, and so long as he rests and lets himself heal, then he should be fine.”

Paul breathed a sigh of relief. That was very good news. “So he’ll be okay?”

“He’ll need to keep his hooves on the ground for a while, which I’m sure he won’t appreciate. But yes, I expect a full recovery.”

“He won’t like being grounded for so long, no,” Paul said. Adam would get restless if he was grounded for more than a few days between missions. A broken bone could take a couple of months to heal. Paul didn’t know if that applied to wings too, but it probably wasn’t that different, right? “I’m just glad that he’ll be okay.”

Fawn nodded again. “I’m going to keep him here overnight just to make sure everything is as it should be. Once the fracture is sufficiently healed he’ll need physio and to ease himself back into flying, but that can be sorted out closer to the time. For now, he needs rest.”

“Can I see him?” Paul asked. Wanting little else right now than to see Adam.

“Yes, but keep it brief,” Fawn answered. He turned toward the door and gestured for Paul to follow. “I think he might still be quite shaken by what happened. But I’ve treated enough pegasi with injured wings over the years to expect it, to some degree.”

“He didn’t say a word on the way back to Cloudbase. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him like that before.”

“Everypony responds to things differently. But as a rule, pegasi are as protective of their wings as unicorns are of their horns. Neither are always aware of it, but it’s true all the same. Damage there is a fear they all seem to carry, just as I’m sure you do too.”

Paul can only nod to that. He understood. He’d seen it. With others, in the past. And now with his best friend, and he hated it.

Fawn walked Paul to Adam’s room before leaving him be. Paul knocked on the door before going in, and Adam lifted his head from his pillow at the sound. Even hurt and shaken, it was nigh impossible to sneak up on him. His wing was properly bandaged and strapped up now, held in place against his side. He looked tired, and despite Paul’s efforts, conversation was sparse.

What Brad had said earlier about the worst possible outcomes swirling through Adam's head seemed to be rather accurate. Sure, Adam didn't say it, but Paul knew him well. And he knew when he was worrying and thinking too much. He didn't blame him, of course not. But those spirals of 'what ifs' never did anyone any good.

That one he did know from experience.

Once Green, the Captains (barring Xanthic and Cobalt) and the Angels (barring Symphony in Angel One) had gathered, viewed the available information, and read over the break downs provided by the analysts that Spectrum retained for situations exactly like this, they were in full agreement: it was looking bad for UnNamed, but his muck-rakers were digging and social media counterclaims were starting to surface. Those voices were currently small, but they wouldn't stay that way, not with the human predilection towards gossip and tearing others down. In addition, last night a Freedom of Information Act request had been put in for Cobalt’s medical records from the WAAF - a little tidbit that had been passed along by someone in UnName’s team having a crisis of conscience. It was a cause of concern for multiple reasons. Even though White had asked Shore to stonewall on the WASP side of things, it was only a matter of time before someone thought to make similar requests from that organisation too, and, legally speaking, they couldn’t be refused. It was only a matter of time before things were brought out to be twisted to fit UnName’s narrative.

Their final conclusion was clear: The longer UnNamed was free to act, the higher the odds of him turning the world back in his favour.

White drummed his fingers on the table as he considered his options.

The warrant for Jefferson Tracy’s arrest had finally been prepared and signed yesterday, but the wheels of justice, especially with the complex crimes the man was accused of, turned slowly. They had to attack on multiple fronts, to remove the support that would give the man the strength to fight the charges and the connections to squirm out of things. They needed the public pressure to ensure that justice was done and make him too hot to handle. This was a case that could take years to be seen through to completion should enough obstacles be thrown in the way and key persons be made to ‘vanish’ or withdraw their statements, and the man would be able to continue his campaign the entire time. If he did somehow get elected, the case could be dismissed entirely.

Complicating everything was the threat of the Mysterons. They were quiet right now, but that could change in an instant, and he hated fighting two wars at once.

Colonel White’s frown deepened as he considered alternatives, half an ear on the conversations happening around him. He could add fuel to the fire by requesting Cobalt (because the man would never allow his brothers to do so) go before the media and do an interview now. He knew that Cobalt would do it - an interview was the bait he’d dangled before Kat Cavernaugh - but doing so right now would wound him deeply. ‘Another option would be to give Scarlet an untraceable weapon and a ‘hunting licence’, but he is not ‘007’ and Spectrum does not issue a licence to kill as one sees fit. This needs to be taken care of quickly and efficiently.’ Decision made, he swept his gaze over his collected officers and tapped the table top twice to get their attention. “This needs to be escalated. UnNamed states that the report is just words, so let us have the man's own words convict him,” White declared. “Green, print out a copy of the warrant for me and have Spectrum New York arrange transportation and an investigative team. Blue, Scarlet, go pack your bullet-proofed civvies, prep an SPJ, and file a flight plan to New York. Ochre, you’re in charge until we return, maintain readiness in case of a threat.” 

“Sir?” That was Blue, head slightly tilted as he sought clarification.

“We are going to bring up the timeline. The three of us will go to New York. First thing in the morning we will pay a visit to Ms. Cavernaugh’s office and present her with evidence to damn Jeff Tracy: one of the worst of the sat phone recordings we have. Whilst it may not be admissible for the trial, we have plenty more. After that makes breaking news, we shall go to TI New York and arrest him.” A hard look was levelled at his senior officers, particularly at Scarlet. “We will execute this to the letter, gentlemen, and it will be done with strict adherence to all procedures. No ‘accidental’ shoves or trips, no whispered incendiary comments, and if he does resist arrest, only as much force as is required to contain him. There will not be a single flaw that a clever lawyer can use to dismantle all of our work and render moot all of the pain the Tracy family have gone through.” 

It was only when he got their crisp ‘yessir's that White nodded and went on to say “Remember, obliterating the myth of ‘The Great Jeff Tracy’, ruining the years of work he's put into his public image, and snatching away any chance of victory will do far worse to him than any physical pain will.” 

That got all those present exchanging looks that were distinctly Not Pleasant. 

He waited an hour. Still nothing.

The rest of the family waited with him. Tensions were high, no one spoke while they waited. For once both John and Virgil were home too, John was in between missions and Virgil had just finished his finals.

Finally Jeff tried to send Alan and Gordon to bed. Alan was tearful, angry, but ultimately he did go with Virgil. But Gordon was determined to stay up. It wasn’t the first time Scott had missed the scheduled call, he was probably on a mission, and so Gordon would wait. He had good news to share!

But eventually he was dropping off by the phone and didn’t have the energy to protest when John picked him up and carried him upstairs. They didn’t go into either of their rooms, though. John took them to Scott’s room and they settled on their big brother’s bed. Virgil and Alan joined them pretty soon and the puppy pile helped the two youngest drift off to sleep.

Not John and Virgil, though, and they softly murmured their worries to each other. They stopped when their Father looked in and shook his head, and they sighed and settled down to try and get some sleep.

It was as they were trying to eat breakfast that the doorbell rang.

Everyone paused. No one had been particularly hungry and they watched as their Dad went and answered the door and came back alone.

‘Boys, I’ve got a couple of visitors in the office. Can I rely on you finish up here?’ ‘Sure, Dad. We’ve got this.’

Jeff gave John’s shoulder a squeeze and bestowed a weak smile on everyone and left them to it.

John and Virgil exchanged glances but put brave faces on, finishing eating and cleaning the kitchen up. Their dad still hadn’t appeared so they decamped to the den and put a movie on that no one watched.

They were about halfway through when they heard the front door close and they waited to hear what was going on.

It took longer than it should have for their Dad to enter the den, but when he did his face stopped all conversation. Their father was as pale as a sheet. The only other time he’d been like that was when their Mom had died…

It was John – ever practical John – who asked.

‘Dad? What did they want?’ ‘John…boys…I…they…’

The uncharacteristic stutter was even more scary, and Jeff, seeing how scared his children were, sat down heavily on the larger sofa, held his arms open and enfolded his boys into a tight, tight hug. He took a steadying sigh.

‘I have some bad news. There’s – there was an accident. And Scott…’ ‘Scotty dead?’ ‘No! No, Alan, he’s not dead.’ ‘Of course not! Scotty promised.’ ‘Gordon, thank you. The facts are that his plane crashed and he’s currently…lost.’

Jeff didn’t need to see the faces of his two oldest boys to know that they knew exactly what he meant, but Alan at 10 and Gordon at 14 didn’t seem to know exactly what he was driving at.

Thank goodness.

It was enough for now. Jeff got up and left to get dinner together. John and Virgil went to help him and Gordon, in a fit of selflessness he occasionally showed, allowed Alan to pick the movie for them to watch after eating.

They sat at the table with paper and crayons and engaged in discussing how they could make sure Scott didn’t get lost again, coming up with more and more outlandish ideas, unaware that Jeff was watching them with tears streaming down his face.

But then Gordon glanced up and gave him a half-grin and Jeff knew Gordon understood exactly what was going on.

Dinner was a subdued affair and little was eaten, but everyone tried to put a good face on it for Alan. It seemed to work as their youngest brother kept smiling and chatting and didn’t seem to notice the rest were not so happy.

When dinner was over but before they settled for the film Alan showed them what he and Gordon had been talking about while they cooked.

Three sheets of paper had stick men drawn on them and coloured in like Scott’s uniform and all three had giant compasses – one on Scott’s wrist like a watch, one on his waist like a belt and one on his head like a headband.

They laughed and cried and settled down to watch Top Gun. Scott’s favourite movie was an excellent decision by Alan even if it meant more tears.

Jeff managed to hold it together until it was time to put Gordon to bed. At his age Jeff wouldn’t usually but under the circumstances Jeff just needed to and for once Gordon let his Dad act like his father.

‘Scott’s gonna be ok, Dad.’ ‘Of course he will be. He’s a Tracy.’ ‘No – I mean it.’ ‘Gordon?’ ‘Scott promised he wouldn’t leave me. He’ll keep that promise.’

Gordon spoke with such earnestness that Jeff couldn’t help but enfold him into another hug and hold him just a little bit longer than he usually would. He kissed his son’s head.

‘Thank you.’ ‘Scotty will be back before you know it.’ ‘I hope so, Gordon. I hope so.’

But Scott wasn’t back soon.

Days turned to weeks. Weeks to months.

The wait took a toll on them all, and only Gordon remained upbeat. Even when Alan wasn’t around he remained cheerful. And Jeff just couldn’t tell him how much it meant to them all that Gordon tried so hard. But every time one of them asked Gordon said the same thing: Scott had promised.

Even Alan was getting upset by Scott’s continued absence, but Gordon always managed to cheer him up.

It was another Saturday when the two men visited again.

Once more the boys holed up in the den and tried not to worry about what was going on, but this time their Dad came to them immediately once the men had left. And this time he was smiling even though he was once again crying.

‘Scott?’ ‘They’ve found him. He’s safe.’

They erupted into cheers and hugs, and grins that couldn’t be wiped off. Sally immediately packed a case for Jeff and before the evening was out Jeff was flying to New York for a plane to Frankfurt Airport.

Life at the farmhouse carried on. Jeff vid-called them regularly but there was no sign of Scott, just updates. Their Dad was apologetic but Scott wasn’t up for speaking to them, and eventually Sally had to sit down with Gordon and Alan and explain just how ill Scott was without going into too much detail.

It stopped Alan constantly asking when Scotty was going to talk to him. And it gave Gordon pause. He’d been saying Scott was going to be alright for so long now but it looked like even his big brother may not come out of this unchanged.

Eventually, though, there came a day when Jeff called and said he was bringing Scott home.

Gordon had never been so excited and neither had Alan, and they began planning a party in earnest. But when their Grandma came home she vetoed all their plans and explained that Scott might be better but he wouldn’t cope with loud noises or any kind of partying.

Her words sobered them up pretty quickly. Now they simply made sure that their brother felt at home once he arrived. John and Virgil came home that night and the three of them began rearranging the dining room so that Scott could sleep downstairs until he was better. They let Alan direct him and the ten-year-old revelled in telling his brothers what to do.

The upshot was that when Jeff arrived with a sedated but conscious Scott they were all home and waiting. But they didn’t rush to greet Scott and Jeff and Sally had never felt prouder of their boys.

Scott was settled into the room and for the next few days he mostly slept, but he did speak to all of his brothers a little at a time. They were careful around him and he was equal parts proud of them and upset that they needed to do that.

One day Scott woke up and Gordon was sitting there, humming quietly to himself. He hadn’t noticed and Scott just took a moment to regard his brother.

His little brother has grown up since that day years ago when he’d clung to him, asking him not to go. There was a kernel of regret that could have taken root in his heart, but then Gordon noticed and his face lit up like a beacon.

‘Scotty!’ ‘Hey Gords. You ok?’ ‘Of course! You’re here, you’re back.’ ‘Fishie…’ ‘It’s ok, Scotty. I know you’re not better yet. Grandma explained you might not be yourself for a while and that’s fine.’ ‘Oh.’ ‘But you will be. Back to yourself, I mean.’ ‘I – I may not ever be the Scott I was.’ ‘Not fully, maybe, but you’ll still be Scott Tracy, big brother to John, Virgil, Alan and me. I know you. You promised you’d never leave me and you haven’t, Scotty. You haven’t.’

Tears welled in Scott’s eyes and he reached for Gordon who willingly – and carefully – snuggled up to him.

Frequently Asked Questions:

Q: Where can I find the prompts list?

A: @whumperless-whump-event on Tumblr.

Q: How are the prompts divided?

A: Each day has a "title" or a vague theme, followed by two tropes and one dialogue prompt.

Q: Can I use the title as a prompt?

A: Absolutely.

Q: Do I have to use all of the prompts?

A: Not at all.

Q: Can I use all the prompts?

A: Absolutely.

Q: If I'm writing a chronological story, can I swap days to fit the timeline?

A: Yes, just make sure you tag your days and prompts appropriately. If you're writing for day 6, but you post it on day 12, tag day 6, not day 12.

Q: Can I have early or late entries?

A: Yes. This is a very laid back event, and meant mainly to inspire lots of whumperless whump. It's not a strict writing challenge.

Q: Is there an Ao3 collection?

A: Yes! This year's collection is linked here. The parent collection also includes 2024 and 2025--make sure you select 2026.

Q: Can I write [insert anything here]?

A: Yes. However, this blog will not reblog certain topics (ex. nsfw or suicide), so please tag your works appropriately, so anyone can filter out anything they don't want to see.

Q: Can I use AI?

A: No.

Q: Can a whumper be included in the prompt fill?

A: The short answer is no. The long answer is that you cannot have the role of whumper in your prompt fill (aka: no whumper-on-whumpee); however, if the character you want to be a whumpee or a caretaker happens to be a whumper, then as long as they are not fulfilling the role of whumper, it's fine. Also, if there is a whumper, it must be totally impersonal and faceless. Here are some examples for clarification:

A character's drink is spiked at a party. OKAY: The whumper who spiked the drink is never mentioned and is completely faceless, and the story is directly about whumpee recovering. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper who spiked the drink kidnaps the whumpee.

A character is left alone in a storm. OKAY: The character is stranded or lost. NOT WHUMPERLESS: Whumper tied them to a post and left them in the storm.

A character is mugged on the street. OKAY: The whumper is a stranger, faceless, and the focus is on Whumpee. NOT WHUMPERLESS: The whumper is a stalker and there to kidnap Whumpee.

All in all, if your goal is to fulfill the event, then try to avoid a whumper. If you're using the prompts elsewhere, then ignore this, but in the spirit of the event, no whumper roles please.

Q: How do I tag my posts?

A: Tag with #whumperless whump event, #wwevent 2026 and #wwevent day [x](Don't just tag wwe, that's wresting.) Make sure to tag the fill type (art, fic, music, etc) with #fic, #art, #et cetera. Then, tag triggers and content warnings. Please put these first in the tag order! It just makes it easier to reblog.

Q: How do I get reblogged?

A: Mention this blog in your post! It's the easiest way for me to find you. Otherwise, I won't reblog it. (This also means if you do not want your post reblogged to the event, just don't mention the blog, and it'll stay private.)

Q: I disagree with something/have an issue with a prompt/want to address a problem. How should I do it?

A: Send me an ask and we can fix it. I am more than willing to work through any problems--I am human, and not without fault.

I think that's about it. That's a lot, so if you've got any other questions that aren't on the list, feel free to shoot me an ask. I'm happy to help!

Plain Text:

Like a Baby Seal to Water: Fishtailing / Near drowning / "I thought I was going to die."

Somebody's Gotta Do It: Unexpected caretaker / Touch starvation / "You don't have to hide from me."

A Lull in the Chaos: Bedside vigil / Checking vitals / "Can you… sing? Until I fall asleep?"

How Are You So Oblivious: Unknowingly feverish / Falling asleep at work / "Can you drink some water for me?"

Wilderness Experts: Poisoned / Caught in a trap / "I don't know where we are."

Down The Wrong Pipe: Choking / Seizures / "Call an ambulance, tell 'em they're not breathing."

Wrong Place, Wrong Time: Panic attack / Overstimulated / "Get me out of here."

Are You Sure This Is Normal: Natural disasters / Scared of thunder / "We're safe in here, okay? I think."

Dropping Like Flies: Multiple whumpees / Caretaking while sick or injured / "I'll get some rest soon, I promise."

A Warm Welcome: Coming home from the hospital / Cuddle piles / "You scared me so badly…"

Bodily Betrayal: Stomach sick / Carried to bed / "…Yeah. I can call in sick for you."

You Make Me Lose My Breath: Wheezing / Altitude sickness / "You're not making sense."

Waking In A Cold Sweat: Midnight hospital visit / Allergic reaction / "I thought you were getting better."

The Final Straw: Grief / Mental breakdown / "You don't need to be okay right now."

Caught Off-Kilter: Earthquake / Claustrophobia / "We're here! Help!"

Listen Very Carefully: Medic whumpee / Coaching through first aid / "I'm going to scream. You have to keep going."

We All Make Mistakes: Injury while cooking / Soft wound tending / "Let me take care of you this time."

Losing Your Sealegs: Too dizzy to stand / Motion sickness / "Can… can we pull over?"

Out of This World: Magical exhaustion / Cursed / "We'll fix this, I promise."

Here Comes Bad News: Scary diagnosis / Distress calls / "I'll be right here the whole time."

Hold Your Tongue: Fighting with a friend / Parting words regret / "I'm sorry, I'm just… not thinking right."

Oh So Inconvenient: Trapped inside by weather / Worsening infection / "I didn't know where else to go."

All Hands On Deck: Multiple caretakers / Travelling while injured / "Hold on a little longer."

Uncharacteristic Behavior: Clinginess / Falling asleep on Caretaker / "Are you… feeling okay?"

Respiratory Distress: Coughing up blood / Sick and injured / "Don't make me laugh, it hurts."

In Hot Water: Hurt while on the run / Bystander caretaker / "You can turn me in. Just help them. Please."

Break the Surface: Coma / Retrograde Amnesia / "You were in an accident."

When The Night's Out To Get You: Nightmares / Chronic insomnia / "I'll stay awake, you can sleep."

Too Hot (Hot Damn): Wildfire / Heatstroke / "This isn't how I thought tonight would go."

Don't Lose Your Head: Inexperienced caretaker / Severe concussion / "I don't know what to do."

With a Little Help (From My Friends): Waking a caretaker for help / Delirious confession / "Why didn't you say something?"

Alternative Prompts:

Last Chances: Scouting for a healer / Field medicine / "You can scream. It's safe now."

Literally Biting You: Animal attack / Venom / "Someone get a medic!"

Tick Tock: Losing track of time / Dissociating / "Look at me, please. There you go."

That's a Lot of Blood: Hypovolemic shock / Nosebleeds / "Please don't pass out on me."