#i failed whumptober

[a-muzzled-hound]

“What could go wrong?”

DAY 12 - WHUMPTOBER

Rusty nails, mayday may day! Cave in 

CONTENT!/TRIGGER WARNING!: Continued story from day 11, rusty nails, punishment, rope/tough rope, burning nails/burning metal, no comfort, rope restraints

Ashtyn would already be sat on one of the metal foldable chairs they would keep in the corner of the shed, his arms restrained strictly with rope on the arm sides, his ankles, quads, his torso would be tied up as well to the chair that'd sit in the middle of the shed, right in front of the counters

It'd take him a minute to wake up, and by then, everything was set up on the counter right behind him, 10 rusty nails, a pliers, and a singular lighter, and of course that's all they needed for what they planned on doing. 

His eyes would roll up feeling stinging pain in his knee, that’d still be wrapped up rather poorly in rags, as he’d realize rather quickly that he was tied up- and quite securely to the chair, limiting pretty much every movement he made, getting out of the daze of sweet unconsciousness, as he’d look up at, fixing his gaze to his surroundings, with his insides falling apart when he realized what was happening. 

“You’re finally awake, it took you long enough, but we did have plenty of time at least to get everything ready for sweet little, you.” Alyx would speak up amongst the other men, standing right infront of ashtyn,  take a long good, gander down at ashtyn. His words expressed sarcasm to the boy in his statements.  

Ashtyn would speak up shakily “It- hurted- I’m fucking sorry! I wa-was.. Going to return!” it just felt as if an noose was getting tied to his neck, and proceeded to get choked by the noose, with his voice squeaking abit, in an act to hold back any tears

“That is such utter bullshit.” Alyx spoke up with a darting glare, following that statement up “You know damn well, once your knee was feeling a-okay, you’d run to the gates and attempt your escape. PATHETIC!” 

Ashtyn would shake his head with a rather resilient look on his face, it truly was something to be entertained by. But- on ashtyns end, there wasn’t anything to say anymore. Alyx was right- He was going to attempt an escape once his knee felt somewhat better.

“That’s exactly what I thought.” Was uttered as the lighter and pliers were picked up by alyx, with him holding the pliers ends up to the flame of the lighter, flaming it up, so when it touched any bare skin or anything really- it’d burn right through. He’d just bow his head down in shame, balling up his fists tightly knowing this whole procedure all too well. 

—-

After a solid minute of ashtyn, bowing his head in shame with his fists twitching in fear, just doing his best to distract himself from what’s going on, what surrounds him, who’s around him. The pilers would finally be hot enough, with the jaws of the pliers having some steam coming off of them just from how hot the metal had gotten. 

“C’mon, open your palm.” Vincent spoke up, peering down at ashtyn next to alyx.

Ashtyn would hesitate abit with his fist just shaking more, til his hand would slowly squeeze itself open, still refusing to look his head looking to the side, with his eyes squinted shut, his hands shaking just wouldn't stop despite being open, with it flinching a few times. 

Til suddenly the burning hot jaws of the pliers would be twisted onto ashtyns ring finger, as tears flushed out of ashtyns eyes, erupting an blood curdling scream with all of the fight getting crashed into ashtyn all at once, the struggle started all over again 

“FUCK, FUCK!!- FA-FWUC!!! AGH!!!” Screaming continued blocking out any words he was trying to get out for this period of time, only making out blabberings, which soon turned into blabberes out please as his finger would get twisted by the burning hot jaws of the pliers, getting twisted quite slowly, til it took a whole other direction, getting QUICKLY twisted

CRRRKKKK—... 

SNAP! 

The bone in his ring finger was completely bent, with ashtyns releasing an pretty uncontrolled scream, jerking around quite a bit in the ropes, just trying again and again to pull his knees up, and his arms side ways, but, that didn't last for long, did it? 

Alyx would slam his own hand on top of ashtyns palm, removing the pliers from his ring finger as he does it, sending ashtyn into a flight response as his head shot back and looked at alyx then his palm through tears that would be racing out of his eyes at a rapid rate, shaking his head no

Alyx would just take a gander at ashtyn "No?" 

Ashtyn of course immediately nodded, again and again, nods, with his crying showing no sign of a pause, despite him sucking in some of the tears, for them to flush out moments later with his breaths. 

"Right, we'll move on then, twisting fingers never really were my favorite thing to do."

—

Ashtyn would chuckle lightly, releasing more sobs as his head fell down shortly after, his back hitching around, a bit, his hand going limp as alyx would go ahead and grabbed half of the rusty nails on the counter behind ashtyn, with Vincent grabbing the other half. 

Ashtyn's laughter would be hitched in between his crystal, as he'd look at the rusty nails with some old blood stained on them still, as he stared, his crying worsened. There was really no stopping Ashtyn's cries, other than.. More pain! 

Alyx would take his hand, spreading his palm out on the chairs arm rest, laying the nails out aside, taking one of the five he had. And propping it right on ashtyn's pinky fingers, knuckle. With ashtyn's hand making slight twitches in utter horror. Alyx picks up a perfectly sized hammer for bashing the nail right in his knuckles. 

And within a few seconds of anticipating for the big bang, it happened, the nail was BASHED, down by the hammer alyx wielded, with the nail going right through the knuckles bone marrow, striking his knuckles nerve, and to add insult to injury, the hammers face striked the knuckle right after the bashing

   The crying was endless on ashtyns ends, with his crys cracking infrequently, his throat feeling weak, it wouldn’t take long for Vincent would follow the same path with alyx lending him the hammer, violently bashing the nail down with the hammer's face, over and over again. 

Ashtyn's struggle didn't stop, it worsened, with his tugs against the rope becoming violent with every tug, worsening the blisters he gained from how tough the material the rope is, he'd keep on turning in the chair, looking honestly a bit wheezy from just looking at the graphic display that were his hands. 

Soon enough, the two men had already went through with every knuckle went through, and without realizing, ashtyn had collapsed to unconsciousness in the chair, with his salty tears drying on his face, same with the heavy snot that had came from his nose, through all of those hysterical sobs. 

But, There's always time for a good beating.

[rainbowsandwhumperflies]

The Winged Servant - 9

content warnings: dehumanization/insulting the whumpee, threatening many characters, discussion of murder, breaking and entering, life threatening situations, yet another sword injury, dissociation

prev chapter | masterlist

There were more footsteps. Not loud, not close, but loud enough. Close enough.

“Your, um, Your Highnesses-”

“Stay out of this, you stupid bird,” Prince Cardan growled at me, and I nodded quickly.

“My apologies, Your Highness.” I pressed my back up against the wall as the footsteps got louder.

“See? You can’t even keep your stupid pet quiet,” Prince Cardan snapped at his brother. “Do you really think you two could take care of Kieran as well as I could?”

“He’s not a pet, Cardan. Oh my god, you’re insufferable! I forbid you from trying to kill Kieran in my place.”

“Forbid me? You’re not exactly in any position to stop me.”

“Yeah, because you attacked me! Do you even hear yourself?”

There was a gun pointed at my head before I'd even realized anyone was close enough to point one. “No funny business, or I shoot you.”

 If someone aims a weapon at you, then you do your best not to let that weapon touch you. That had been almost my only order tonight. That, and follow the prince. I wasn't supposed to let the gun rest against my temple the way it did now, but if I moved away-

I took a shaky breath, opening my eyes despite the fact that I hadn't really noticed them close. The princes were in a similar predicament, frozen in place while guards pulled guns off of their waists.

“Your Highnesses,” I whispered, trying desperately to find out what I was supposed to do, but the guard with a gun pointed at me squeezed my shoulder.

“Stay quiet if you know what's good for you.”

Prince Cardan scoffed. “Yeah, right. Kieran isn't consistent enough to run a country, and this is proof! He's got free speech protected in-”

“Yeah, not for you. You are being searched for weapons right now, and I won't have you conferring with each other.”

He opened his mouth, but Prince Ryan interrupted. “Cardan, I implore you not to do anything stupid right now.”

“You know what, Ry? That’s your other problem. You use big words that no one understands and get mad that no one listens.”

“... Implore? That big word that no one understands? Seriously?”

“Please stop talking,” the tallest guard said wearily. He stood watching in the corner, his hand resting on a weapon but not yet pointing it at any of us. “Every day I thank my lucky stars that Kieran took over. Wright, will you handcuff them?”

Prince Ryan glared as his arms were pulled behind his back, but he didn’t resist, didn’t flinch when fingers dug into the gash on his arm.

“What about the angel?” the guard—Wright?—asked.

I hadn’t been searched. It was obvious, probably, that I didn’t have a weapon, that I hadn’t moved an inch. Not since those first footsteps, when Prince Ryan had told me not to move until he said otherwise.

“What about the angel? Handcuff him too. If he somehow is innocent, we’ll find out at his trial.”

Wright tilted her head at me. “Angel. Did you help the twins break into the castle or not?”

I blinked slowly. “Break in?”

She glanced at the other guards. “He might be in shock or something. In which case, he’ll need medical care sooner rather than later.”

“He’s not in shock,” Prince Ryan huffed. “He just doesn’t know what’s going on. Yes, he helped us break in, he just didn’t know we were breaking in.”

“You watched them kill people and didn’t realize they were breaking in?” she asked me, and I frowned.

“The royal family doesn’t need explanations to carry out their will, ma'am. I'm supposed to do as they say without question. It's not really- it's not my business if we're breaking in or not.”

She promptly handcuffed me.

Prince Ryan had let himself be handcuffed, so I held still and went where they put me.

Prince Cardan did not.

He didn’t stand a chance, without weapons and surrounded by so many guards, but that didn’t stop him from trying. That didn't stop him from punching two people in the face and lunging toward me and shoving me in front of him.

I didn't move away when a weapon swung towards me, barely flinching as a blade hit my arm. I was good, I was a good servant, I could be good and hold still when I was punished and-

“Onyx,” someone snapped, and I looked up.

There was blood running down my arm. Prince Cardan had been apprehended and was in handcuffs. I was in handcuffs. Prince Ryan was in handcuffs, and glaring at me.

“Come on, Onyx,” he said. “Don’t start letting your brain drift now. You’ve been doing well tonight; you need to do well for a little while longer.”

“Apologies, Your Highness,” I managed to whisper, bowing my head toward him.

He glanced at the guards around us. “Well. No time like the present to throw us in the dungeon, hm?”

~

We weren’t taken to a dungeon, or a jail, or anywhere else that I would’ve assumed that this Kieran person put people who tried to overthrow him. Maybe he wouldn’t bother putting us anywhere—maybe this was a temporary fix while we awaited execution.

In any case, the guards brought us to what looked like… a guest bedroom.

The princes both looked upset, but stayed compliant as they were brought to their knees on the carpet. It was- it was nice carpet. Our carpet was not this soft, not this plush. I would kneel on this carpet for years if they'd like me to, I thought. 

Prince Ryan did not look as happy as me with our conditions. “Is your king too much of a pussy to put us in a real prison for grown-ups? Or does he think that he can give us hugs and words of affirmation and we'll realize that we've been bad people all along?”

“He doesn't think we'll be able to shut you up, that's for sure,” Wright muttered. “Here's the thing. The king has never once tried to convince someone to work overtime when they didn't want to. That's not a grace you'd ever extended, but we've gotten real fond of him. If he doesn't want to work overtime, we won't make him.”

“He hasn't stopped searching for us for five years. He won't wake up from his beauty sleep to say hi now?”

“Nope,” Wright agreed cheerfully. “He won't. He can deal with you first thing in the morning, and not a moment earlier.”

“And we'll all just… hang out here until then?”

“Mhm!”

“And the other people you've caught?” Prince Ryan’s eyes were narrowed, glancing at the obvious exits of the room. “They're in prison?”

“Some of them. Lucia is on her way here to wait with you—you three are a bit more of a priority than everyone else you roped into this.”

Suddenly, the prince’s eyes snapped to me, and I whimpered a bit. What was I supposed to do right now? It was treason to refer to the royal family with their first names, but I hadn't been the one doing that. Should I have been telling the guard not to? It wasn't my place to correct humans on what to do. Was it?

“The angel,” Price Ryan finally said, and I let out a breath of relief as I realized he was still talking to the guard. “Is he… priority? Like the royal family?”

“The Rao family,” Wright corrected. “You're not what we consider royalty around here. But the angel is… well, we're not sure about him. So Kieran gets to decide when he gets up.”

“What about-”

“Mr. Rao,” she said slowly. “You're being a little too nosy. To the point that I think I might need to worry a bit about what you're planning. I suggest you shut up until Kieran comes. You might be able to get a few hours of sleep if you start now.”

He swallowed, but leaned back against a wall silently.

Something was wrong. Something had gone very, very wrong. We'd been breaking in, the princes had said, and we'd gotten caught. And this place was under Kieran’s rule, which was ridiculous because everything was supposed to be under Her Majesty's rule.

The guard here had not called her “Her Majesty.” She'd called her by her first name. That was treason, and yet no one had seemed surprised and no one had contradicted her.

The princes were being quiet, like they'd been told to. And the princes never did what they were told to, so something was wrong. Something was wrong and I didn't know what and I needed to stay quiet and I needed someone to tell me what to do.

And all I was allowed to do was wait.

~

Taglist (lmk if you'd like to be added/removed!): @kaleidoscope-of-thoughts @toyybox @rainydaywhump @risk606

[ssa-atlas-alvez]

Whumptober Day 3 (Luke Alvez x Male BAU Reader)

No. 3 A HAIR’S BREADTH FROM DEATH

Gun to Temple | “Say goodbye.” | Impaled

This is my 1,800th post lol, that’s absolutely mental, also I went all out on this one, please please please read the warnings and tags. 

Also there’s aspects of it that aren’t perfect but I’m okay with that, maybe I’ll change it in the future, maybe I won’t, who knows lol 

Warnings: major character death, guns, suicide, suicide attempt, Russian roulette, failed suicide, dead body (not graphic, I don’t think)

Word Count: 2034

@whumptober-archive

"Say goodbye," You motion vaguely to your mouth, duct taped shut, with as much sass as you physically could. "Ah, not you. Bad hostages don't get to say goodbye. Bad hostages don't get closure." You glare at the man as he taps your nose with a grin. "No, you don't get closure." He turned around, scanning the other hostages, eyes settling on Luke who's in front of you. "He can get closure," 

You shut your eyes, hoping that, to outsiders, it looks like your mourning not being able to say goodbye to those you love. You know you're being selfish, but you don't know if you can listen to Luke exchanging his last goodbyes with Lisa.

This unsub (name still unknown) had taken large groups of citizens hostage, hurting and threatening them, before forcing members to phone their loved ones and say goodbye before he killed them. He had done this four times already with no hostages making it out alive. You and Luke were just on a coffee run when the unsub took control of the room, it was only a small coffee shop (you had convinced Luke to support a small business, he had rolled his eyes with a small smile before agreeing), and now here you were. 

The unsub drags Luke to the phone, who punches in some numbers before it begins to ring. It takes three rings for Lisa to answer. 

“Hello?” You furrowed your eyebrows at the voice. That certainly wasn’t Lisa.

“Hey,” Luke voice wavered

“Luke? What’s wrong?”

“Emily, I-” Luke cut himself off, swallowing. He needed to make this sound as believable as possible. “He’s making us say goodbye,”

“Luke-”

“Just let me talk, let me talk, please,” Luke’s eyes drift from the phone to you. “I know we work together and we aren’t really supposed to have relationships at work but the second I get out of this- the second, I want to be with you. I love you, I think I have for a while, but I just, things got too messy and I couldn’t say anything, I was with Lisa, you were with Kai and it just didn’t line up. But if- when I make it through this, you and I? We’re going to make up for lost time.”

At the police station, Emily’s eyes flicked up to Rossi, “We’re going to be together, you’re going to get out of this,” She hoped Luke would get the message. We’re coming for you.

Garcia’s heart ached as she and the rest of the team watched over CCTV. The situation was not good to say the least. They watch as Luke confessed his love to you through Emily, they watched the emotions fly through your eyes despite your best efforts to mask them. They saw your hands trembling slightly in front of you as you listened, as Luke’s eyes filled with tears, hands twitching towards you. All he wanted to do was embrace you, love you, be with you. 

“I love you, so much, so much it physically hurts, but in the best way possible,” Luke said, only breaking eye contact to take a breath. “I’m a better person for knowing you, even if we don’t get the chance to be with each other, I’m a better person for loving you,” 

Your sob was muffled by the tape covering your lips, but your shoulders still shook, the tears still trickled down your cheeks, sliding past the tape and under your chin. He loved you too. All this time, all those years could have been spent together. All this time wasted dancing around each other when you could have been together. Perhaps you would live together by now, engaged? Married? Thinking about kids? You’ve always known you wanted kids. You let yourself imagine having kids with Luke, him chasing them around the garden, the kids and Luke in a fit of giggles while you hold a hot cup of coffee close to your chest. 

“And I’m so sorry that we may never become an ‘us’,” Luke added gently. 

The unsub’s smirking, until he sees your shoulders shaking with silent sobs. He presses his gun to Luke’s temple. “You’re not talking to her, are you?” He spits. 

Luke doesn’t answer until the unsub pushes the barrel of the gun harder into his temple. “No,”

“You’re speaking to him, aren’t you?” He says, using his other hand to point at you. 

“Yes,” 

The man gives a laugh before turning to you, gun still against Luke’s head. “You, get up,” When you don’t move, he shoves the gun harder against Luke’s head, “Get up!”

You scramble up the best you can with your hands tied. “You too Luke,” The unsub’s hands are clenched around Luke’s shirt collar, “You, not-Luke, in front, come on.” You stand in front of Luke, “Good, now, you’re going to lead the way, try anything, I put a bullet through lover-boy’s head.” You nod sharply. 

You follow the unsub’s directions, it leads you down into the basement, under a drain and into the drain systems. You do as he says, not finding a safe opportunity to try and disarm him, not whilst his gun is flush up against Luke’s skin. There’s not even a chance to disarm him when he climbs up the ladder. He’s quick to put the cover back on. You look around, you appear to be in an abandoned warehouse. He forces you and Luke both on the ground, kneeling against the concrete floor, opposite each other but still relatively close. 

When the unsub takes the duct tape from your mouth, the first words that come out are aimed at Luke, an urgent ‘I love you too’, he smiles and nods with a quiet ‘I know’ and you find yourself smiling. 

The unsub, disgusted by this, doesn’t waste any more time. He tips the bullets out of the gun, placing one back into it’s rightful place in the chamber before pocketing the rest - the two of you too caught up in the moment to notice -  he spins the chamber before shoving it into its position. He aims the gun and pulls the trigger. 

The team back at the station split up, getting in their cars, speeding to the location Garcia sent them - she was able to narrow down which tunnel he would take based on the profile. Emily, Rossi, and Tara get there first, Matt, Spencer, and JJ pulling up a second later. Emily orders Matt and Tara to head round back, the rest of them are going through the front. There’s the familiar sound of a gunshot and the team starts running. 

There’s a loud bang and something warm splatters against your cheek. You watch as a small strip of blood rolls down Luke’s temple before his body collapses to the ground, lifeless, eyes already beginning to gloss over. 

You don’t realise you're screaming until the unsub’s hand clamps over your mouth. You struggle against him. Luke. You needed to get to Luke. You shout, bite, everything you can think of. Eventually, he decides it’s not worth it and he stops, turns and runs. Leaving you alone with Luke. Sobbing, you scramble to your left, grabbing a piece of glass from the floor, frantically cutting at the rope on your hands - not caring as you accidentally scrape the glass across your skin. “Luke? Luke, hang on!” When the rope’s off your wrists, now a bundle on the floor, you scan the room, spotting the phone you dial Garcia’s number, it being the only one you have memorised (other than Luke’s). Garcia answers, patching you through to everyone as she’s tracking your phone. You drop the phone, no longer caring about them on the other side - help was on the way, now you needed to be with Luke. 

You crouch beside him, hands hovering for a moment before pulling him up and into your lap, his back flush against your chest, his head lolls to the side, lifeless. You press your forehead in the crook of his neck. “Luke?” The silence makes you whimper, “Luke please,” Your hands clench the fabric of his t-shirt tightly, you sniff, “Please?” You clutch him tighter to your chest, a sob wracking through your body. “I love you too,” You cry, “So much, so please don’t leave me,”

In the silence, you open your eyes. You spot the gun, not too far from where you’re sat. You could join him. You could finally be with him, after all this time. You’re moving slowly, sluggish. It’s heavy and cold in your hands, sending pins and needles up your hand, of anticipation? Anxiety? Grief? You’re not sure. You draw in a deep breath as you close your eyes as you lift the gun to your temple, waiting for the courage. A tear slips past your eyelashes, you draw in one final breath. You’re ready. You nod to yourself, keeping your eyes closed as you begin to pull the trigger. 

“(Y/N), no!”

There’s a click and you’re ready. But nothing happens, your face falls and your eyes snap open, no. No, no, no, no, no, please no. You open the chamber and there’s nothing there. “Fuck!” You growl, you look up, locking eyes with Emily, “It’s empty, there’s nothing there!”

“(Y/N), we need you to give me the gun,” Emily’s voice is level but you shake your head.

“No,” Your answer is immediate, “No, he- and I-”

You don’t process Spencer running towards Luke, checking his pulse with JJ, before he looks up at her and shakes his head. You don’t see Rossi and edging closer to Emily. You don’t hear Matt and Tara walking up behind you.

“I know,” Emily answers softly. “I know, but I need you to give me the gun,”

“There’s nothing in it!” You yell, “It’s fucking empty!” You throw it, following it with your glare. And it lands, a foot from Luke’s body. Luke. You’re about to run to him when you see Emily give a small nod and Matt’s arms wrap tightly around, pulling you close to him. “Get off!”

“(Y/N), it’s okay, it’s me,” 

“Get off me!” Your breaths coming in pants as you try to manoeuvre your way out of the hold, all you want is Luke. You want to be with Luke. Why can’t you be with Luke? A sob leaves your lips, “Luke?!” Part of you expects him to sit up, joke about having a headache, for him to glide over to you and gently envelop you in his embrace. Your frantic eyes meet Emily’s, filled with tears. “I need- I need to be with him, please-”

Rossi comes into your view, tears trekking down his cheeks, but his voice is even, “Kid, I need you to listen to me,” Your eyes meet his, a sense of comfort rushes over you. “I need you to take some deep breaths with me, okay?” You nod frantically, wanting him to know you’ll try, you will. “Okay, breathe with me,” 

You follow his breathing, in for four, hold, out for four. Your breath hitches for a moment, before his voice calmly guides you through it. Five minutes pass and they’re no longer worried you’re an immediate threat to yourself, Matt’s arms are gone and you miss the comfort. They were helping ground you. You turn to him, chin wobbling as you remember and he understands and gently wraps his arms around you. Emily and Dave send him a look and he sighs before turning his attention back to you. “I’m going to need to put these on, just as a precaution,”

You nod, what else could you do? With the handcuffs in place (in front of you), Matt places an arm around your shoulders, you bury your head into his shoulders. He rubs his hand in circles in the centre of your back, “Let’s go,” He says softly.

Shaking your head you whisper, “I can’t see him like that again,” The image flashes past your eyes, body, lifeless, pool of blood. You shudder, hands gripping Matt’s shirt as you try and push the image from your mind. 

“That’s okay,” Matt answers, “We’re going out the way I came in,”

“Okay.”

“We’ll get you through this, (Y/N), I promise.”

[miyomiikonran]

Okay so just for the record I have to report that thanks to @ironic-artist's obsession with tik-toks I discovered awesome, queer to the brim webcomic called "Covenant". I literally read all 66 chapters available in one and a half of a day. I REGRET NOTHING, GO AND READ IT IF YOU FANCY SOME COOL ASS EXORCISTS.

[rpf-bat]

*sigh* I’m trying to remind myself to be happy for others instead of comparing myself to them.

[hyperfixat]

whumptober masterlist :0

day one obey me

day two obey me

day three honkai star rail

day four obey me

day five obey me

day six honkai star rail

day seven obey me

day nine cod könig

day twelve obey me

day fourteen obey me

[justicecaballer]

Once Again, The Fic

usually its getting all the way up to 1500 words thats the hard part but for todays chapter there was A LOT of information i wanted to include and it was SO HARD to pare down. i feel like i got rid of the wrong stuff and didnt have the space for what i really wanted to convey but u win some u lose some I Guess

ITS JUST A LITTLE FRUSTRATING

repeating the mantra of i can rewrite it later. repeating the mantra of its ok if its not perfect.

God But What If I Flop. Hard

[owlkalinity-books-and-music]

Thinking of doing Whumptober this year ngl

[sparklingbinjuice]

Whumptober Day 11 & Day 19

‘911, What’s Your Emergency’ / ‘Enough is Enough’

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Head Lolling

Content warnings: blood, blood loss, injury, bucky’s real fucked up, brock is not a licensed medical practitioner

2218 words | (M)

Rumlow finds the soldier exactly where he left him – sitting on his heels in the far corner of the safe-house garage, bleeding steadily (but slowly) onto the sealed concrete floor.

He’s craning his neck to get a good look at the wound on his upper arm, metal fingers reaching to pick out the smaller bits of splintered wood embedded all around it.

“Hey!” Rumlow stops him dead with a single word and a pointed glare. “Thought I told you to sit still.”

[whumptober]

Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt

We get a lot of questions about prompts, so I thought this might be a helpful post for how to break down a Whumptober prompt and get ideas.

Each day of Whumptober has 4 prompts: a theme trope, then three ideas. You can use any one, two, three, or all four in your work. Each day’s prompts loosely relate to each other but could also be taken individually. They can be interpreted as literally or figuratively as you want.

Let’s look at an example. I’m a writer, so I’m going to talk in terms of storywriting, but just remember that this challenge is open to all sorts of creative works, including art, gifsets, headcannons, crafts, or whatever else you can think of.

ICARUS

cage | “You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high” | crash landing

(Fiona Apple, Never is a Promise)

So the theme is Icarus, with additional prompts of a place, a song lyric, and a situation. Taken together, you could write a story of Icarus, who was caged with his father Daedelus, flew too close to the sun on the hope of freedom, and crashed fatally to earth. But you could also look at each prompt in isolation for ideas.

Icarus:

themes of hubris

themes of freedom from captivity

winged characters

a child trying to prove themselves to a parent figure and failing

Cage:

being literally caged

feeling figuratively caged

breaking free of something (literal or figurative)

themes of imprisonment and freedom or false freedom

“You'll say you'd never let me fall from hopes so high”:

regret

promises made or broken

an accident and its aftermath

bitterness after betrayal

guilt after betrayal or accident

Crash landing:

literally falling from a height

being high (drugs, mania, medications, love, sugar) and crashing

plane/helicopter/airship/dragon/spaceship/winged creature crash

an angel falling to earth or hell

comet or meteor impact

This isn’t an exhaustive list, but just some brainstorming ideas I could come up with quickly. In a few of my fandoms, I could write about Bucky’s fall from the train and Steve’s guilt (MCU), Basch fon Ronsenburg’s fall from grace or languishing in a cage for treason (FFXII), Sephiroth summoning Meteor (FFVII), Chell being dragged back into Aperture after thinking she’s free (Portal), a dragonrider battle (ASOIAF/HoD), crashing into the Chionthar after victory (BG3), Geralt coming down after battle when the potions wear off (The Witcher). Any of these scenarios could be inspired by one or more of the four prompts for that day – my problem is always deciding which one I want to use!

“But Yenn,” you say, “what if I can’t think of anything for any parts of the prompt, or I don’t like the prompts, or they’re too much for me in some way?” No problem! We also have a list of 15 alternatives that can be substituted for any day (once per prompt). If you’re still stuck, you can always come on Discord and ask for brainstorming help. Everyone is super nice there, especially for a community of people that live to put blorbos in discomfort.

I hope this post helps give people ideas. We’re working hard to get everything together and should release the prompts in a couple of weeks! In the meantime, our 2024 playlist will be loading soon...

[ailesswhumptober]

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023

It’s finally time! These are your official prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! We have 31 days of wonderful whump prompts. Each day has a set of 3 different prompts to choose from! Alternative prompts will be posted under the cut.

Happy whumping!

Here are the alternative prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! There is one alternative prompt for every day in October.

AI-less Whumptober 2023

Drugging / sick / poisoned 

Overworked / insomnia / Exhaustion

Sensory deprivation / overstimulation / isolation 

Hiding an injury / betrayal / lying

Hostage / kidnapping / Held at gunpoint

Conditioning / mind control / forced to hurt someone else

Flatline / Restrained / CPR

Panic attacks / Dissociation / Seizure

Scar reveal / Interrogation / Presumed dead

Branding / Scarring / collar

Fainting / Paralyzed / Adrenaline 

Self harm / Sacrifice / Character death

Earthquake / Flood / Crushed

Bleeding through the bandage / Field medicine / no anesthesia

Experimentation / Muzzle / transformation

Amputation/ chronic pain / Hospital

Hypothermia / heat stroke / “You look a little pale”

Fever / vomiting / Warm soup

Taken for granted/ Left behind/ “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Dehumanization/ Stockholm Syndrome/ Master and servant

Blood loss / shock / Near death experience

Whipping / Punishment / Stress position

Begging / “Take me instead” / Forced to watch

Failed escape / hunted down / Too exhausted to keep running

 Nightmares / Flashback / “Why didn’t you save me?”

 Magical exhaustion or injury / Curse / Came back wrong

 Forgotten/ Locked away/ Immortal Whumpee

 Hair pulling / Oxygen Deprivation / Sweating

 “The easy way or the hard way?” / Bargaining / Forced to choose

 Possession / Mind Games / Coma

PTSD / Headaches / Crying  Here are the alternative prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! There is one alternative prompt for every day in October.

Bloody knuckles

Gunshot wound

Separated from loved ones

Drowning

Blackmail

Crying to sleep

Disowned by family

Electrocution

Forced feeding

Bullied

Suffocation

Abandoned

Grief 

Human Shield 

Self-defense

Lab rat

Memory loss

Misunderstanding

Hypnosis

Mutilation 

Mouth stitched shut

Nerve damage

Nervous breakdown

Words carved into skin

Stalked

Non-Consensual touching

Paranoia

Peer pressure

Prison

Silent treatment

Truth serum

[captainreecejames]

Masterlist!

Includes finished work and prompts I am working on!

If you have any ideas or want to request something just send me an ask or message!

legend

∞ social media au ¬ writing

Series

My Exboyfriend is a Footballer Series

Back too Famous ∞ • in which you fail to soft launch your relationship because his back too famous

You Can Call Her Phone ¬ • in which you can call her phone but she ain't gon answer

Wrong City ∞ • in which you post pictures of one city with a caption of another city

Falling ∞ • in which you fall (literally) for charles leclerc

Pick Me Up ¬ • the 4 times charles picks you up + the one time you pick him up Pick Me Up SMAU ∞

Miss Moving On ∞• in which your exboyfriend is now engaged and thinks you haven't moved on

You Can Call Her Phone ¬ • in which you can call her phone but she ain't gon answer

Failed Soft Launch ∞ • in which you fail to soft launch your relationship because he doesn't change

Still Me Here ∞ • in which your album the good witch comes out and the internet speculates it's about lando

Hey Girlie Part 2 ∞ • in which lando 'hey girlie's you

You Can Call Her Phone ¬ • in which you can call her phone but she ain't gon answer

Can't Crop ∞ • in which you fail to soft launch your relationship because you can't crop

X2CU ∞ • in which you really just want your ex to see him

fired by a thirst trap [part 2] ∞ • in which you dated kylian mbappe until a lewis hamilton thirst trap hits the timeline

You Can Call Her Phone¬ • in which you can call her phone but she ain't gon answer

He's Tall ∞ • in which you fail to soft launch your relationship because he's tall

Can't Have a Good Thing ∞ • in which you used to date an american soccer player

So Long, London ∞ • in which your childhood sweetheart was a chelsea player

Just Friends ¬ • in which you really need a friend, then you need something more •• companion piece to so long, london

Down Bad ∞ • in which you should date someone you're own age

OTHER

Fernando Alonso

I Hope ∞ • in which you manifest some shit

Working on George Russell -> my ex is a footballer Whumptober Prompts

[jasmines-library]

WHUMPTOBER 2023 MASTERLIST

Hello to wherever you are! Welcome to the complete masterlist for whumptober 2023! Here you can find all of my fics for this years event. My prompts for this year came as a mixture of my own and from the official @whumptober prompts, as well as the @ailesswhumptober list. I’ve tried to match the numbers up as close as possible but have had to do a little jumbling to get all of my favourites in. As always each fic has its own warnings so please be mindful to check those beforehand for anything sensitive. Happy whumping!

⛤ MAIN MASTERLIST ⛤

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

🪦 DAY ONE: Just One Big Headache.

Prompt - “how many fingers am I holding up” Fandom - Supernatural (Winchesters x reader, platonic)

🌡️ DAY TWO: Spellbound Sickness

Prompt - thermometer. Fandom - Supernatural (closest to dean x reader)

🔗 DAY THREE: Up and Down

Prompt - solitary confinement/“make it stop”. Fandom - Supernatural

🩸DAY FOUR: Tried and True

Prompt - Hiding an Injury. Fandom - Batfam

🪨 DAY FIVE: No Escape

Prompt - pinned down Fandom - The Lost Boys

👀 DAY SIX: I’ll Make This Up To You

Prompt - made to watch Fandom - Batfam

☠️ DAY SEVEN: Poisoned Heart

Prompt - poison Fandom - The Hobbit/Lotr

⚡️DAY EIGHT: Let it linger

Prompt - dissociation/shock Fandom - Supernatural

🛠️ DAY NINE: Just Forget about it.

Prompt - conditioning Fandom - Marvel

💔 DAY TEN: Hold me Tight

Prompt - “you said you’d never leave” Fandom - The Last of Us

⛓️ DAY ELEVEN: Blood Bag

Prompt - captivity/“no one will find you” Fandom - Supernatural

🔪 DAY TWELVE: Catch me if I fall

Prompt - self harm Fandom - Batfam

💉 DAY THIRTEEN: Safehouse

Prompt - infection/septic Fandom - supernatural

💦 DAY FOURTEEN: Spinning out

Prompt - water inhalation/drowning Fandom - Top Gun

📞 DAY FIFTEEN: The ‘Do Not Call’ List

Prompt - Barely conscious Fandom - Batfam

🔬 DAY SIXTEEN: 14 Years

Prompt - experimentation Fandom - Marvel

❄️ DAY SEVENTEEN: Baby, It’s cold outside

Prompt - hypothermia Fandom - The Witcher

🗡️ DAY EIGHTEEN: The Basement

Prompt - tortured for information. Fandom - Supernatural

💊 DAY NINETEEN: Needle and Thread

Prompt - no anesthesia Fandom - Batfam

🔫 DAY TWENTY: Lost and Found

Prompt - “you will regret touching them”. Fandom- Batfam

💀 DAY TWENTY-ONE: hidden on the inside

Prompt - Near death experience Fandom- supernatural

🚘 DAY TWENTY-TWO: Oh, Baby.

Prompt- vehicular accident Fandom - Supernatural

🧸 DAY TWENTY-THREE: Sweet Creature

Prompt - nightmares Fandom - Supernatural

🔎 DAY TWENTY-FOUR: Sounds of Someday

Prompt - “I thought they were with you?” Fandom- Supernatural

🔐 DAY TWENTY-FIVE: People are Strange

Prompt - failed escape/hunted down Fandom- The Lost Boys

📉 DAY TWENTY-SIX: tired eyes

Prompt - working to exhaustion Fandom- Batfam

⚡️DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Lazarus Rising

Prompt - scars Fandom- Batfam

💔 DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Unbroken Valour

Prompt - Sacrifice. Fandom- Batfam

⏳ DAY TWENTY-NINE: Devil in Disguise

Prompt- oxygen deprivation Fandom- Supernatural

🩻 DAY THIRTY: Black Smoke Rising

Prompt - possession. Fandom - Supernatural

🎱 DAY THIRTY-ONE: Ask Again Later

Prompt- forced to chose. Fandom- Batfam

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

[gierosajie-art]

Whumptober 2023 Prompt List | No. 14: “Feed me poison, fill me ‘till I drown.” | Water Inhalation | “Just hold on.”

He catches their terrified screams before he crashes into the water.

Weak, exhausted, he barely has enough in him to stay afloat, trying to gasp for air. The cold water comes at him from all sides. He feels the rushing current against him.

He's just. so tired.

For a brief moment he manages to break the surface. Only a moment. He sees Kai, terrified. Shouting something he can't make out from the crashing water. Lloyd opens his mouth, trying to get air into his burning lungs.

He chokes on seawater instead.

Aching limbs continue to fail him. It sucks, still being a prisoner in his own body.

I'm sorry-

[kitkatscabinet]

Whumptober - 03 Withdrawals

Simon Riley x gn! reader

Warnings: mentions of substance abuse, opiate withdrawals, vomit

Simon was concerned, he'd been concerned since the bullet tore through the meat of your thigh. He’d been the one to pull you to cover, it had been his hands staunching the blood flow and it had been him you’d leaned on during physical therapy.

Even when the medics had prescribed opiates for the pain. He’d swallowed his discomfort attempting to keep a close watch over you and your usage. You’d seemed fine, seemingly as off-put as him by having to rely on such addictive substances in order to stave off the pain. 

You’d seemed fine. 

Your recovery was going well, the doctors, physical therapists and psychologist had all seemed optimistic that you’d be field-ready in near record time. 

You’d seemed fine. 

How had he failed to notice? He’d seen it before in his father, in Tommy. In hindsight, all the signs had been there. You’d tired more easily, were calmer - lethargic even and your attention span was even shorter than usual. You’d waved it off as the effects of vigorously throwing yourself in training, wanting to get back to your peak physical form. 

Simon had ignored the signs, desperately not wanting to admit that another one of his loved ones had succumbed to the addictive effects of prescription drugs. He’d ignored the signs until it was too late, until he’d found you slumped over in a hallway shivering and covered in sweat. You don’t even notice his presence, not even when he hauls you into his arms and starts running down the hallway all the while trying to shake you back into consciousness. 

It’s not until he deposits you under the cold spray of a shower that you start to stir, moaning in confusion as you attempt to orient yourself. You try to move but Simon has you locked against his chest, his arms the only thing keeping you from collapsing onto the tiles. 

“Wha?” you slur, blinking lethargically as you struggle to keep your eyes open. Vaguely you recognise the voice of the person holding you, but you struggle to make out any of his words. Your head is so heavy, chin resting against your chest, giving you a close-up view of a familiar tattooed arm. “Simon?” 

The man grunts his affirmation, one hand moving to sweep the hair from your face. You don’t get to appreciate the gesture for very long before you’re slumping to the side as far as you can within the confines of his arms and emptying the limited contents of your stomach. It burns your oesophagus, choking you as you attempt to breathe through the bile. Tears spill from your eyes from the pain and embarrassment. 

Simon doesn’t comment on it though, simply continuing to hold you up and whisper words of encouragement. You’re uncertain as to how long you stay under the cold spray but at some point, you close your eyes only to wake up in another room, a towel around your shoulders as Simon attempts to dry you off. 

“You need to get out of these clothes love, can you do that?” Giving it a few seconds of thought you nod, waiting for Simon to reluctantly turn around. It’s a struggle but you manage to wriggle out of your wet shirt and dry your torso enough to slip on the shirt Simon had laid out next to you. It’s a long and tiring process and more than once you’d had to reassure Simon you were still ok. 

Though you were quickly forced to admit that you needed help, all of your muscles shaking uncontrollably. “Si, I need help” you quietly admitted. Turning your head to the side in shame, closing your eyes so wouldn’t see his disappointment. Despite the awkwardness of the situation, Simon is infinitely respectful, averting his eyes to maintain as much of your modesty as possible. 

His touch is gentle, though every slight brush of fingers on your skin burned. He continues to act in silence, bundling you up in what you now recognise as his blanket. It’s enough that the dam finally breaks and you start sobbing earnestly, chest heaving for air as you lay shivering in his bed. 

“‘M sorry.” You moan unable to articulate your shame in any other way as you continue to apologise over and over. Simon doesn’t offer a verbal reply but he does take a place by your side, smoothing his hand through your wet hair. 

Time becomes meaningless after that and all you know is misery. Your body fluctuates rapidly between hot and cold flushes that have you attempting to escape from the cocoon Simon has you trapped in. Yet the hulking abomination won’t let you move, even as you snap and scream at him. He’s not even phased by the intense nausea, placing a bucket beneath you just in time as your traitorous stomach continues to expel bile even when your stomach is beyond emptied. 

He wipes your sweat and hydrates you, taking your hurled abuse stoically, never once blaming you. He maintains his silent vigil, sacrificing his own sleep to watch over your own incredibly broken slumber. Much to your own horror he even escorts you to the bathroom, never more than a few feet away. It’s a new level of mortifying, the entire experience frays your nerves down to nothing. Yet no matter what you throw at him, Simon stays. 

“Why are you helping me? You should’ve handed me off to the med bay. ‘Ts not your job to clean up my fuck ups” you whisper. The question comes a few days into the torture, you’ve regained some clarity but the hellish symptoms showed no sign of improving. A few minutes ago you’re pretty sure you’d even called him ‘fuckin cunt’ when he’d refused to give you any sort of medication. He pauses in his movement of using a wet cloth to wipe the sweat from your forehead, barely taking any time to think of a response. 

“Do I need a reason?” There’s a heaviness to his words that you don’t quite understand and he doesn’t elaborate. How could he explain to you, the sheer terror that had grasped his heart when he’d found you slumped over? The self-loathing he’d been battling since he’d come to terms with your affliction? 

“No… but I’d like one. I’m pretty sure I vomited on you a few times and you didn’t even complain. I’d have decked you for that.” It’s an attempt at a joke but it evidently doesn’t land, his hand stilling in its path as he seemed to have some kind of internal debate. 

“I care about you, that’s reason enough.” He offers no further elaboration and you sense that you’d already pushed far enough for the moment. 

“Well now I just feel like an arsehole” you mumbled, trying to lighten the mood. Luckily your remark gets a light chuckle from your brooding companion as silence descends once more. A wave of exhaustion suddenly hits you and for once you don’t fight its pull, though you vow the next time you wake to grill Simon even further. Before you fall asleep once more you manage to mutter, “I care enough about you that I’d let you vomit on me too.” 

The last thing you hear before the darkness overtakes you is a laugh, the first genuine laugh you’d heard from him in days. It’s a small victory but you take it, allowing yourself to finally feel just a little bit of hope.      

[woso-fan13]

Whumptober 2023: 10

No. 10: “Can’t you see that you’re lost without me?”

Broken Phone | Stranded | “You said you'd never leave.”

It’s the last night of camp, and tradition states that a team movie must be watched. Everyone had gathered in the room that you were sharing with Georgia, sprawling across the beds and onto the floor. 

You weren’t even sure what movie was playing, too focused on your phone. You wished you hadn’t started looking at social media tonight, now unable to look away. The more you scroll, the nastier comments that you read. People were saying horrible things about the way that you played both in the last game and in general. There were compilations of all of the mistakes you had made- both recent and from your time on the U teams. It was awful. 

One post in particular was your breaking point. It was a photo that you had shared of yourself playing football as a toddler, a giant smile across your face. The caption was heartless, talking about why this little girl would have made so many lives better if she had quit. 

In a fit of emotions, you throw your phone at the wall. You’re desperate to get those awful things out of your head. 

All of the eyes in the room immediately lock onto you, watching as you struggle to process. Georgia stands up from her bed, walking over to sit next to you. She puts an arm around your shoulder and wordlessly pulls you into her side. 

You turn into her shoulder, sobbing. Everyone else watches on- shocked. Eventually, Leah gets everyone out of the room, leaving you and Georgia alone. She didn’t know what was going on, but she figured you didn’t need an audience. 

“Shh, bug, what’s going on?” she asks you softly. 

“I- I-” you stutter, “they’re right”

“Who’s right?”

“Everyone- the people online. I’m not good enough, I made stupid mistakes and I caused the team to lose.”

It’s quite for a moment, Georgia processing what you said. 

“Oh, my love, you didn’t cause us to lose. You know that, football’s a team sport- win together, lose together.”

“Yeah, but I was bad. If I had been better, the team could have been better.”

“You were perfect, sometimes we just lose. You can’t listen to those people on the internet, what do they know?”

“They have proof, tons of videos of me failing. G, help me,” you’ve dissolved into tears again. 

Georgia pulls you into a tight hug, knowing that the words she has to say won’t affect you right now. Instead, she focuses on pouring all of the love she can into you from her embrace. She rocks the two of you slowly, occasionally making a shushing noise or pressing a kiss to your hair. 

“I know, I know, it’s awful. Just get it all out, we’re going to figure this out.”