#whumptober prompts

[ailesswhumptober]

Badge List

Now releasing our list of cool(but not mandatory) badges that YOU can earn during this whumptober!

Total Achievement: completeing every day 2. Total Achievement Plus: completeing every day + the alts 3. Going Against the Grain: only doing prompts from the alternative list 4. Oddball!: Only finishing odd numbered prompts 5. It Takes a Village: For collabing with one or more people during whumptober 6. Homebrew Suffering: For exclusively making OC whump 7. Culture Connoissuer: For people who post fics in over five different fandoms 8. One is Just Enough: for those who only post one thing for whumptober

[willows-adventures-in-words]

So, I've looked through the rest of the prompts I've written for Whumptober (since I'm done writing them) and came to a realization. All the prompts that Geoff is in are zombie themed. That was totally unintentional.

[sarahsmi13s]

||🎃 whumptober poll 🎃||

hey you guys! i wanted to pop on and ask y'all a simple question!

last year i didn't finish my whump prompts, so i have plenty left to finish! i know last years prompts are different from this years but i don't want to abandoned the fics i started last year.

so:

tagging those that were on the previous taglist (i will be posting a new one for this year):

@kmc1989 @nightowlalltheway @malindacath @fanboyswhore9 @els-marvelvsp

@bradleybeachbabe @chaosofmanyfandoms @startrekfangirl2233 @gina239 @angstygyal

@lovinglyeternal @86laura11 @nyx2021 @hangmansgbaby

[twigg96]

The Day We Lost You

Daryl X Reader (feat. Aaron and Phoenix)

Whumptober Prompt: 25 We’re not delivering a perfect body to the grave

Warnings: Angst, Blood, Gore, Death, Character Death, Clowns, Walker Bites, Dreams,

POV: Daryl

Pronoun: You, [Y/N], Wife, Partner, their, they

Summary: Escaping a massive hoard of walkers would be bad enough if they weren't trapped in a never ending twisting hallway with no escape and a crazed clown with a chainsaw at the other end. Daryl does all he can to try and help his family escape alive... but if he can't he prays with everything he's got that its all a dream.

Daryl’s heart pounded in his chest as he ran. The groans of the dead creeping ever closer. Their hands gripped at his vest through chain link fences that were far too tight for comfort. Why had Aaron taken them this way? Looking back at Phoenix then at You tailing not too far behind he tried to keep you all together. Keeping a tight grip on your teenage daughter's slender wrist he refused to let her be swallowed up by the horde should they break through the fencing. As the group stumbled into the vast openness of the factory basement Daryl tried to catch his breath. Tried to figure out the best course of action. “There’s two halls!” Aaron yelled out his voice echoing though the vastness as he pointed to the hallways at either end of the room. One hallway had lights that flickered and hummed ominously. The off-putting smell of medical supplies and cleaning products wafting through the air made Daryl feel sick in an all too familiar way. The second hall was pitch black and smelled of rot and decay. Groans and moans of the dead emanated from the hall as he stepped closer. “This one’s got walkers!” He yelled, pointing to the dark one. “Then we go in this one!” Aaron screamed, grasping ahold of Your hand as the four of you darted inside trying to keep as far ahead as possible.

The hall way in front of him seemed to stretch on for hours and hours. No matter how hard or how fast he ran he couldn't get away fast enough. The footsteps of the dead echoed down the hall behind him. Doors jutting from the sides all led to dead ends. Medical supply rooms and empty hospital rooms with empty gurneys covered in blood lined the walls. Dark red sticky drying blood leaked from under the doors as they passed screams echoing through his mind as he ushered his family through Hell. The windows were too high to jump through safely with no hope to shimmy down the walls. Keeping a strong grip on Phoenix's wrist he pulled her along, regretting ever bringing her along on this run in the first place. Her hand quaked in his own reminding him of just how fragile she truly was. "Daddy." She whimpered with every twist and turn the hall made, leading effectively no where. He wanted to answer... He wanted to be strong. But his voice failed him. Hitting the wall at the opposite end of the hall Daryl's heart dropped. Dead End. Desperately searching the doors on either side, one of them had to lead to stairs... even if they lead higher in this cursed building he'd take it at this point. They simply had to. But when he opened a supply closet and a room with a beautiful familiar blonde body, covered in a white sheet and blood laying on a gurney the archer felt himself shutter and retch.

"Daryl..." Your terrified whisper gave him no time to think. No time to register what he was staring at. Turning back to Aaron, [Y/N], and Phoenix, Daryl stared in awe in the direction where the wall once was which was now replaced with a dark stretch of hallway. No lights illuminated the ceiling here. No windows lit the dark. Just the overwhelming smell of gasoline was wafting through the air before Daryl could see the danger. The man with the pitch white skin practically peeling from his body stepped into the light from the shadows of the hall in front of them. The gas powered chainsaw dripped with fresh blood onto the linoleum and down the man's worn polka dotted clothing staining it in odd designs and patterns. His hair was matted and hung in long dreads that framed the smeared dried blood that was painted on his face like the mask of a clown.

Ice ran through Daryl's veins as the man laughed a crazed manic scream, yanking the saw in his arms to life, spraying the walls with a fine mist of blood.

There was no need for a command or an order. It was instinctual. Turning on their heels, Daryl pulled his daughter along, praying that his wife and Aaron could keep up and hold their own against the hoard they were about to face.

The cut off scream. The horrific, grotesque sounds told Daryl all he needed to know... Aaron couldn't.

Tears rolled down Daryl's face as he pulled Phoenix along. "Oh God!" He heard her gasp. She was looking back, tripping over her own feet as Daryl pulled her. Slowing them both down. "Daddy, we nee-" She begged. Her innocent belief that Daddy could save them all was going to be shattered... And how Daryl wanted to keep it all wrapped up in a box. Just let her hold onto that shimmer of hope. He wished with all he was that he could be that man right now. Keep her safe and warm like he promised when she was born... But now he knew the only way to do any of that... was to break her heart. "Phoenix!" He screamed, yanking her up beside her and cutting her off. "Ya can't look back! Just run!" He screamed at her, moving his grasp to nearly bruising her upper arm.

Fear. It was a look Daryl was used to seeing in other's eyes when they looked at him. A trait he picked up from the Dixon side was a stone cold expression and a proclivity to push people away. But when his own flesh and blood looked at him like that… terrified, hurt, scared. He knew that he was in deep shit.

But he couldn't just fix this one... and Phoenix wasn't just scared of what was around them. Not just the clown. Not the screams of her mother begging them to run faster. Not even the hoard charging right for them. No... she was scared of him... and it killed him.

But he couldn't let himself be swayed or overwhelmed. That was an issue for later. Pulling his knife from the holster on his side he jerked Phoenix. "Knife! Now!" He screamed. There was no stopping. He couldn't take the clown. He couldn't risk slowing his family. But maybe... he could slow him down for them.

Slowing down to let [Y/N] catch up he pushed Phoenix forward. "Keep moving! I'll be right behind you!" He ordered, placing his hand on [Y/N]'s back they shared a loving but worried look. He cherished it. That one heartbeat of a moment where his skin met their’s. When their eyes met for the last time before they and their daughter were swallowed by the heard.

Turning to face the clown he tried not to react to the towering man thundering towards him. Aaron's lifeless corpse, sliced and mutilated dragging behind him like some sick trophy. Daryl cursed mentally backing away, bringing his knife up to his chest. But the clown's manic laugh resonated there anyway. Step by step he was being slowly surrounded. The walkers clawed at his back. The clown revved his chainsaw and Daryl refused to let that crazed gleam in his eyes be the last thing he'd ever see.

"What'cha afraid of?" Merle's voice resonated through his mind, like a fog. Aa sly smile plastered on his young face as he jingled the plush clown in front of his face through the dead of night. His older brother didn't look older than twelve... "Just a toy, little brother..." He whispered over the the sniffles. His large calloused thumb felt rough against Daryl's sensitive tear stained face. "Tell you what... if ya want ta beat this mother fu... this creep," Merle corrected, chuckling softly tapping Daryl’s head, "Ya gotta be smart. Use that head o' yers." Merle whispered. "We both know you'll be smarter than ol' Merle one day. So make sure ya use yer head like ya should and you'll be jest fine..."

Glaring up at the clown as he dropped Aaron to the ground, and grab the chainsaw with both hands. Daryl felt his body tense preparing to go into action. Slowly, the clown lifted the saw ever higher, the hands of the dead grasped Daryl's vest and jeans as if holding him in place, reminding him he was doomed, he was going to die.

"I'm a coward..." Something he'd said so long ago that it felt like another life entirely. "You're not a coward..." You had whispered from your place in the field beside him the summer of their senior year. "Just not using that brain of yers." You teased him for dropping out. "Get out... Live a life, Daryl. It's ok, I understand. I'll be waiting for you when you come back."

His body moved on it's own. If he could choose he would have stood still. Been a martyr for his family. But as his knees gave out and the clown swung the spinning blades above his head, he didn't know if it was an act of cowardice or a refusal. A refusal to die. To be a lamb for slaughter. Looking to the mangled meat behind the clown, Daryl felt everything begin to bubble up.

"I know you feel like an outsider... It's not your fault ya know..."

Aaron's soft voice chimed through the darkness. He was his first friend. The first real one in Alexandria at least... The first man he could really truly trust.

Anger. Pure fiery rageful boiled inside of Daryl's chest as he pushed himself off of the floor, rolling to the side letting the clown miss once more. "Fuck you..." He growled, pushing to one knee. "Fuck you. FUCK YOU!"

Fast it was faster than he'd even perceived it. Bolting into the heard, Daryl sunk his knife into the heads of the walkers that posed too much problem. Shoving away the walkers that got to close he ran on pure adrenaline. The sounds of the chainsaw revved behind him but were quickly stopped as the machine was overwhelmed and gummed up with the flesh of the undead. While Daryl would have loved to have plunged the knife deep into the head of the clown, the sounds of screaming as the hoard moved toward a common goal was enough for him to push forward with out fear.

"[Y/N]! Phoenix!" Daryl cried out when the heard started to thin into the stragglers. "Babe!" His scream echoed down the halls eerily. "Daryl..." [Y/N]'s shaky tearful voice called out. But with the damn echo it could have been from anywhere in the damned hallway. Opening the doors on the wings of the hall, Daryl paused when one was locked. "[Y/N]..." Daryl murmured worry filling his chest. With a click the door unlocked and swung open. "Daryl..." [Y/N] whimpered. Fresh blood covered their hands and was dripping down their arms. She was pale and shaking soaked in walker blood. "I-I-I..." They stuttered. That ice that filled his chest was back but more painful and gripping than before.

Looking her over for any obvious wounds, Daryl moved past her into the hospital room. Like a spotlight, the operating lights were the only ones shining on his little girl. Pale and sleeping like a princess on the opperating table, blood pooled and bloomed all around her like rose petals. Daryl shook his head. "No..." The whispered word fell from his mouth like a prayer as he rushed to her side, his wife right beside him. "I-I-I think she got bit..." You whimpered, your hands moving to press the only wound on Phoenix's body. A bite to the thigh just deep enough to nick something vital. From the amount of blood it was too late. Logically, Daryl knew that... "Not my baby... Not my little girl." He whimpered. But Phoenix... his little Phoenix. His body moved on it's own. Like watching a movie his hands were folded over her chest pumping just like he was taught so so many years ago.

"If you ever find yer brother or daddy passed out like that again ya need to do this." The paramedic instructed him after his father bitched about the medical bill. "Hand over hand, put as much pressure as you can on the center of their chest as fast as ya can muster. We want one-hundred beats a minute but just go as fast ya can ya hear?"

"Daryl..." You whispered, your hands falling from your daughter's thigh after several minutes. No... NO... Daryl shook his head, sweat mixed with tears dripping from his face onto the floor. His hair clung to his forehead, back of his neck, and cheeks. "Daryl." You called once more. But Daryl refused, a rush of adrenalin pushing him to move faster and harder despite the sickening cracking of ribs, despite the lack of blood that came from her open wound. "G-Get somethin' ta wrap that up for when she wakes up!" Daryl screamed, gesturing to the wound with his chin. "Daryl!" You finally screamed, pulling him away with a broken sob. "Stop! Stop! She's going to turn! You need to stop!" You screamed, clinging to his chest heaving heavy heartbroken sobs. Daryl's arms wrapped shakily around his wife as he watched his little porcelain doll lay sleeping on the operating table. "We... we need to... before she..." Daryl sobbed at the mere suggestion but he knew it was true... he'd hate himself if his little girl became... one of them. "We-we're not delivering a perfect body to the grave!" Daryl hissed defensively, looking away. But his partner’s strong hold on his middle grounded him... enough.

Pulling his knife from his holster he stared at his partner who held their’s. "Let me..." You whispered. He wanted to object. To let them leave and not have to worry about this... but he also knew if he watched this... he wouldn't be able to live his life again. Closing his eyes he nodded. Kissing his daughter's forehead one last time he couldn't help but notice how cold her skin was as he walked away but the sound that sound that was burnt into his mind by how often he heard it resonated in his mind as he sat outside the door. Hearing not only one gunshot... but two.

"No!" Daryl screamed, sitting straight up in bed, gasping for breath and covered in sticky cold sweat. You jerked awake beside him, staring at him with a wide fearful gaze that told him you were no where near awake yet. The room around him was dark too dark to be comfortable but the bed. It was recognizable enough to begin to sooth the pounding of Daryl's heart in his chest. "What's wrong baby?" You whispered softly, moving to sit beside him. Reaching out to you, Daryl pulled you close taking slow deep breaths. "You're ok... You're ok..." He whispered over and over, rocking you both rhythmically. "It was a dream Dare. It's over." You whispered, combing your fingers through Daryl's graying hair. "I know..." He whispered as you swiped the tears away. "B-but I need ta- I need-" Daryl sobbed, moving to get out of bed. "Ok... Ok..." You whispered, moving to follow him. Daryl sniffled trying desperately trying to keep quiet as he grabbed the battery powered lantern off the table in the hall and flicking it on. Popping his head in on his youngest he sighed. Lillian was curled around her favorite purple teddy, her sheet covering her but her comforter long since kicked away. Her long hair was a tangled mess he knew her mother would have to tame the same way she did every morning: bribery and food. Closing her door he moved to Beau's room. The tween was twisted like a pretzel in bed, is feet at the head of the bed on the pillow and his head down at the bottom of the bed laying on a ball of crumpled bedding that he was supposed to use to make his bed with three days ago. Daryl shook his head at his son and closed the door moving over to his eldest's, his heart pounding in his chest as his shaking hand touched the knob. Opening the door he searched the room for her. Her room was amazingly clean compared to her siblings. A few maps were spread across the desk and a marker laid haphazardly with it's cap off next to her hand as she slept slumped over at her desk, curled around her latest strategical masterpiece. Stepping into her room, Daryl touched her shoulder lightly, watching as she blinked into consciousness. "C'mon. Ya should sleep in yer bed there, girl." He whispered, kneeling next to her. He may have been way too old to lift her. She may have been too old to be carried to bed. But she was safe... she was alive. Daryl wasn't going to let this or any more opportunities slip from his fingers.

"Are you sure? It's so late..." You whispered, meeting your husband at the door. "Yeah... gotta check." He answered, pulling on his jacket then his vest. He knew normally you'd press harder. That you would have begged him to come back to bed. Done anything to calm him down. But this was something he needed to do. And you would be damned to keep him from doing what felt right. "Alright... wish him my best." You whispered, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips. "I will." Daryl whispered back. Into the cold winter night Daryl trudged down the street. He was grateful that he and Aaron didn't live too far apart in the grand scheme of things but in times like this he really missed communal living. Aaron and Eric's house was always nicely decorated. The decorations now looked like lumps in the snow... it was surreal. Stepping up to the door he knocked loudly but swiftly. It wasn't long before he could hear swift footsteps from behind the door. "Daryl?" Aaron asked a little surprised as the door swung open. "W-What's wrong?" He whispered, glancing behind him for any others. Daryl felt himself unravel. He didn't want to. He wanted to just tell Aaron about the dream and be done with it. But that feeling came back. That one where his body was moving on it's own without thinking. He stepped forward and pulled Aaron into a tight hug, burying his face in Aaron's neck. "I- Sorry." He sniffed feeling the hot tears stinging his eyes once more. "Nightmare." Was all that came out through his broken sobbing voice accepting Aaron's arms around his body. "Oh... Oh Daryl." His sweet voice cooed, as his friend rubbed his back. "C'mon. Lets get you warmed up. I was just about to make some coffee." He was a shit liar... but Daryl's best friend.

[shy-urban-hobbit]

First day of Whumptober!! Written for the prompt 'Swoon'.

Sometimes Aiden's mutations push him to the edge and beyond. (CW for ableism and suicide mention)

Damn those fucking experiments. Aiden was perfectly willing to sell his soul to the highest bidder here and now if it meant he could just sleep. Something which had eluded him since that day they'd injected him and his class with some untested mutagen bastardisation all those decades ago. He supposed he should count himself lucky really - at least he was able to rest in a fashion. Meditation could only do so much and he knew of at least two others who had ended it themselves before they'd even left the caravan, the exhaustion finally driving them to madness and another who'd wandered straight into the open jaws of a wyvern their first year on The Path, thinking it was just another hallucination (so the rumours said. Aiden had a feeling that one may not have been completely accidental either).

He could feel the signs creeping up on him. The bone deep exhaustion, the black spots creeping into his vision with increasing regularity. He wondered how much longer he could keep it from Lambert. It hadn't reached the point where he was a danger to himself - not yet anyway - and he'd learned the prickly Wolf wasn't overly chatty anyway (at least, not with him) so any extended silences between them were probably counted as a blessing. It had taken so long for him to convince Lambert it may be mutually beneficial for them to work together (he'd been right) and now that tentative arrangement was perilously close to going tits up. Maybe they'd get lucky and hit a lull between jobs and travelling soon.

No such luck. Aiden felt himself stumble again as the griffin descended, barely keeping his footing this time. It's tail grazing the top of his head.

"What the fuck, Aiden, that was a clear shot!" Lambert yelled out as he fired igni, taking the chance that Aiden had missed. It hit its mark and the griffin gave a screech as it crashed to the ground, wing ablaze. Aiden charged after it, dodging its talons as it writhed on the ground, determined to make up for his mistake even as his vision swam dangerously - fuck, running had been a bad idea. The beast gave a final cry as Aiden drove his blade through its heart, momentarily using it to discreetly hold himself upright.

"What the Hell was that, Cat? A fucking trainee could have made that shot."

Lambert's voice sounded far away

"Answer me!"

The world tilted and went black before Aiden could even open his mouth.

Aiden opened his eyes and found himself staring at the wooden beams of a ceiling rather than the sky. Lambert must have got him back to their shared room. He groaned a little as he turned his head to look around. The sound and movement alerted the other witcher, who was reclining on the other bed flipping through a thin volume Aiden couldn't see the title of.

"How long have I been out?"

The sun was still up. If he was lucky it had only been a couple of hours.

"Just over a day." Lambert replied, putting the book to one side and planting both feet on the ground. Aiden felt his stomach lurch. Shit.

"Healer said the only thing wrong with you was that you'd dropped from exhaustion. Funny that, considering I feel absolutely fine and dandy."

Aiden could hear the unasked question.

"That's probably because you've been able to actually sleep."

"So what, the delicate little pussy cat has a couple of bad nights and goes to pot? Fuck me."

Aiden scowled, rubbing a hand over his face, "It's more complicated than that."

"Wait don't tell me. The ground's been too hard, that rabbit the other night gave you a funny tummy-"

"Oh, either let me explain or fuck off!" Aiden snapped.

The Wolf inclined his head, his expression telling Aiden that his explanation better be a good one.

"It's my mutagens alright? Cats are a little more...liberal with the mixing process. They'd been working on a batch which was supposed to reduce the amount of sleep we need and thought my class were the ideal candidates when the trials came. Nine of us in all, six left last I heard."

Aiden gave a wry smile he didn't feel, "You can guess it didn't work quite how they expected."

Lambert's expression was one of calculating sympathy, "So, you don't need to sleep?"

"Oh I need to. I just can't." Aiden stressed, "What you saw today was me at my limit. Past it actually. My mind will just push my body over and over and over until." He clicked his fingers, "The longest I've been out before now is four days."

"So, what? You talked me into working with you so you'd have a minder or something? If you're stupid enough to go into a fight when you can barely stand you shouldn't be on The Path."

Aiden gave a growl which would have made a werewolf proud, "You condescending prick! Shockingly, I was managing just fine before I met you. I suggested working together for the exact reason I gave, and have I ever made a mistake before today?!"

Aiden flopped back down onto his back, suddenly exhausted again, "I usually do manage it better. People having to drag me away from a job because I passed out isn't a regular occurrence."

"So what was different this time?"

Aiden raised an eyebrow, "Are you saying you would've taken me seriously if I said I needed to stop because I was tired?"

The silence from the other was answer enough.

Aiden turned to face the wall, his back to Lambert, "If you want to split ways, I get it. But don't ever imply that I'm a liability again when I've survived just as long as you."

Minutes passed and Aiden fought the urge to look over when he heard no sound or movement from the other occupant.

"How long?" A quiet voice asked

"Hmm?"

"Before you...need to rest, how long is it usually?"

Aiden thought for a minute, "Usually about a month with meditation."

"Alright. So a month from now we hunker down for a couple of days. If we're low on coin, I can still go out on a couple of quick jobs while you rest."

"If you're doing this out of pity-"

Lambert snorted, "I'm doing this because usually my brother's are the only ones to call me on it when I'm being an ass. You were right. It took until you were beyond your limit for me to realise something was wrong in the first place. And it's sort of nice only having to put half the effort in on jobs every now and then."

Aiden gave a small laugh at that, "And you said I was lying about the benefits. Hey Lambert." Aiden turned to look at the other, "Thanks. For not leaving me earlier."

Lambert grumbled something that might have been "Don't mention it." Before turning his attention back to his book as Aiden let sleep pull him back under.

[bunglegaydogs]

whumptober is kicking my ass and its only the first fucking day

[lilac-gold]

OMORI AI-less Whumptober 2023

Contents Page:

DAY ONE: Sick Summary: Aubrey falls ill, unable to leave her room. Her mother doesn’t care, and certainly won’t let her friends come visit.

DAY TWO: Overworked Summary: Hero uses studying to cope with Mari's death. Unfortunately, staying up all night studying can lead to passing out at the most inconvenient of times.

DAY THREE: Isolation Summary: Unlike Hero and Sunny, Aubrey didn’t isolate herself. Her friends and family did so for her.

DAY FOUR: Hiding an injury Summary: Mari’s supposed to be perfect, not go running for help. Hero’s got enough of her worries on his plate without her bad knee too.

DAY FIVE: Held at gunpoint Summary: Someone’s got a gun at Hero and Kel’s school. Kel should be concerned for himself, but all he can think about is his brother.

DAY SIX: Mind control Summary: Under Bossman, Hero is a puppet. He has no say in what his body does, and no way to resist when it starts to hurt his little siblings.

DAY SEVEN: Flatline Summary: Basil hears his grandmother die. The sound of her flatlining sticks with him for hours afterwards.

DAY EIGHT: Panic Attacks Summary: Aubrey deals with things using anger. She can control that, but the panic rushing through her is a different matter entirely.

DAY NINE: Presumed dead Summary: In Black Space, he gets constantly ripped apart, and Omori doesn't seem to care. When he returns to Headspace, Basil learns that his friends ended up giving up on him completely.

DAY TEN: Collar Summary: Molly always treats him like he's less than human. Still, Omori really could've done without the constant reminder around his neck.

DAY ELEVEN: Paralysed Summary: Upon a mountain, freezing to death, Spaceboy can't move a muscle. He's beginning to dislike the numbness.

DAY TWELVE: Sacrifice Summary: The Recycultists have never been a threat, not really. Things change when Basil ends up in one of their rituals.

DAY THIRTEEN: Drowning (ALT Prompt) Summary: He's not a strong swimmer, and hasn't been since he was little. Still, Sunny jumps in after Basil, and wonders if he meant for this to happen.

DAY FOURTEEN: Grief (ALT Prompt) Summary: Unlike Mari, Hero leaves a note. Kel finds it just minutes too late.

DAY FIFTEEN: Transformation Summary: Spaceboy tries to fight the anger that threatens to overcome him every single time. It never works, and hearing that tape again is the last straw.

DAY SIXTEEN: Hospital Summary: Mari is familiar with hospitals, especially this one. One place she's never visited before, however, is its roof.

DAY SEVENTEEN: Hypothermia Summary: Maybe climbing a huge, snowy mountain in only her too-large nightgown and with no shoes wasn't the best idea. Aubrey's certainly starting to feel the chill.

DAY EIGHTEEN: Warm soup Summary: Sunny hasn't eaten Hero's food in years. Now, starving as he is, it tastes even better than ever.

DAY NINETEEN: "Why wasn't I enough?" Summary: Locked in the walls, Rococo's starting to go insane. He still doesn't understand what he did wrong.

DAY TWENTY: Stockholm syndrome Summary: Hero, touch-starved and grieving, craves even the tiniest scrap of love. Finding it in Sweetheart was inevitable, really.

DAY TWENTY-ONE: Near-death experience Summary: After Humphrey, his friends seem fine. Omori knows better.

DAY TWENTY-TWO: Punishment Summary: The guilty must be punished. Sunny can tell no-one, so the only one left to inflict punishment is him.

DAY TWENTY-THREE: Forced to watch Summary: When Kel is about to be strapped down to the dissection table, Hero begs to switch places. Kel hears every broken cry that follows as his older brother watches him get cut open.

DAY TWENTY-FOUR: Failed escape Summary: Hero tries to escape the basement. The man who took him films his punishment. (Inspired by @charismabee's 'found footage' one-shot in our Hero-centric Febuwhump earlier this year)

DAY TWENTY-FIVE: "Why didn't you save me?" Summary:  If Basil had been there even a minute earlier, he could have helped. Instead, he made everything infinitely worse.

DAY TWENTY-SIX: Curse Summary: Biscuit used to be able to talk. Now, the only person who understands him is his sister.

DAY TWENTY-SEVEN: Immortal whumpee Summary: Mari was supposed to be dead. However, looking at herself in the mirror, she sure didn’t look like it.

DAY TWENTY-EIGHT: Oxygen deprivation Summary: On a mission through the stars, something goes horribly wrong. Before he knows it, Spaceboy is struggling to navigate the way back as his lungs run out of air.

DAY TWENTY-NINE: "The easy way or the hard way?" Summary: Mikhael’s cocky attitude and overall lameness lands him in a bit of trouble when he gets on the wrong side of a group of delinquents at Closeby High. He only hopes the Hooligans come to his assistance soon.

DAY THIRTY: Mind games Summary: Rococo owes Sweetheart his everything, and he knows she loves him… Even if what she says sometimes doesn’t completely align with that.

DAY THIRTY-ONE: Crying Summary: Kel hasn’t let himself cry in years. After seeing Basil’s body in the bathroom, it’s all he seems able to do.

And so, the time arrives! I will be posting each of the above one-shots to AO3 under "Whumptober 2023", as well as here on Tumblr in a series of posts. I will add links to each day once completed, as well as a 'previous' and 'next' to each day on Tumblr. I hope that you stick around and enjoy this month, because it's going to get whumpy!

(In addition to this, I will be doing a collaborative work with @charismabee centred around every alternative prompt for this event. Each day will be set in a different Omori AU that we've created. She is also doing her own version of Whumptober alone, so check her out if you'd like to see more! <3)

[nativestarwrites]

15

Thanks for the ask! This one is using two of the prompts, 'Painful Hug' and "I did good, right?" and it's a Ted Lasso one set in the When Darkness Falls AU. It's a prequel and it’ll be Jamie’s journey to Nelson Road after the attack begins.

Jamie hates driving. He really fucking hates it. The drive back home to Richmond from Manchester is rarely fun. But somehow today, it’s even worse. Everyone seems to be in a rush. Angry and reckless. He’s been cut up twice and heard more car horns than he can count. What is it that’s suddenly turned everyone into terrible drivers?

[beckandthebois]

Whumptober Day 4:Shock

I won't be doing all the prompts but I thought it would be fun to do a few of them! And they're all about Four so if you want some Four whump stick around.

Warnings:Lightening/Electricity

Summary: The Links have a sandy fight in the desert, and Four's had a little bit of trouble.

Words: 907

Also posted on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50766688

They were in some desert area, just recently having followed the dark lizalfos they’re after to another time period. Unsure of when in time they are,they walk through the sandy heat.

“You know, when I think of sand I think of beaches NOT deserts.” Wind says begrudgingly. He’s not one made for the dry heat of this climate, but more for the salty air of oceans.

“Well…maybe you should just get used to it,” Legend says, too tired and hot to think of a witty response to make fun of their youngest. The rest of the chain feels the same way. Most having taken off layers and putting them somewhere else to hide from the burn of the sun. They’ve been walking for hours at this point, and haven’t seen an end in sight. At this point, Four fears he’ll freeze if they have to stay the night in the desert. Unless maybe Wild has some firewood left.

Most of their trip is spent in silence, except for the shifting sand underneath their feet.

That is, it was silent, then Time stopped his trudge at the front of the group. The boys followed, looking at the oldest among them. Time’s hand held out to silently tell them to stop. The silence hangs above them all as they look around, slowly shifting around to look and watch each other's back, to see whatever it is that Time noticed.

An arrow flies over a sand dune on their left. Sky’s as quick as ever to lift his shield and block Warriors blind spot. A gang of monsters comes running down the dune, mainly lizalfos and a few wizzrobes. The heroes all unsheath their swords and gracefully with experience meet the monsters head on. The frustration of the dusty heat pushing them forward.

Four finds himself fighting a wizzrobe alone. Usually they have to fight the magic wielding monsters with at least two of them. But the other Links are all in their own battles, having been outnumbered by the monsters.

The wizzrobe shoots out an electric shock that has Four sliding to his right in the sand, kicking up dust as he moves.

Four launches forward, leaping off the sand to slash his sword at the undead wizard, getting a clean cut across the arm that isn’t wielding the magic staff. The wizzrobe then disappears, Four looks around to find it, but only ends up seeing the sandy dust in his vision. The other heroes nowhere in site, but their footsteps, along with the monsters must have made a mini dry sand storm in the wake of the their fight.

Four keeps searching, his eyes darting in every direction to see through the sand, a light, a source of magic, or to hear the taunt of the wizzrobe. But he never sees it, or hears it.

Instead he feels a jolt, and his whole body lights up, frozen in pain. All he sees is white, his body burning in pain and he can’t move, he can’t even breathe. What seems like all of his muscles are contracting and spasming. His left hand burns worse where it holds his metal sword, and he can’t let go of it to make it stop. His ear is on fire where a Minish feather burns to a crisp.

Then everything goes black, and he can’t feel anything for a second. He can’t hear either. It takes him a few seconds to breathe. Four feels the weight of gravity on him as he lays chest down on the sand. He picks up his head slightly to see sand. The dust still around, his mouth is full of it. The Four Sword lays a few feet away from him, half buried in the sand.

He attempts to reach for it, but gives up without putting in much of an effort. He feels so tired, and weak. He can’t tell if he physically feels anything or everything.

“...ur”

“..OUR”

“FOUR!”

A hand is in his vision now, attempting to move his head and body around. Hyrule is yelling at him, pulling his head into his lap. Hyrule's hand is running through Four’s hair, which is slightly charred black at its edges.

Four’s ear is also blackened from the ash and fire the feather that was once attached had caused. Four looked up at Hyrule drearily. Four’s hand comes up to reach out to him before it loses strength and falls on his chest. Hyrule takes his hand as Time runs into his vision on the other side of Hyrule, a potion in hand that he presses to Four’s lips.

It hurts, it hurts really bad, Four decides, and he doesn’t know what happened. He’s scared, in pain, and angry that he didn’t see it before, angry he was fighting alone. But he knows he’ll be okay, as long as his brothers are near, he’ll never have to rely on just himself to ease the pain.

The red liquid slides down his throat, and the little strength it gives him has him curling up into Hyrule's lap, leaning into his older brother and giving way to gravity and his tired body.

“Will he be alright,” Twilight asks from somewhere nearby.

“As well as you can be after being struck by the power of two wizzrobes head on.” Time replies back.

And then his consciousness drifts into sleep as Hyrule's and runs soothingly through his hair.

[sushimango]

I doubt the ghost traps of his parents are comfy inside.

Maybe the box even shrinks to compress him?

As usual I try to finish each prompt in about or less than an hour, so don't expect fancy details.

[outlandish-dreamer]

"I'll call out your name, but you won't answer back" Whumptober 2023

Prompt 2: "They don't care about you." Word Count: 1.6k Fandom: Good Omens Pairing: Crowley/Aziraphale or "Ineffable Husbands"

Warnings: None

Summary: Crowley has feelings after Aziraphale left and he gets big sad

Read it on Ao3 here!

6 months. 

It’d been 6 months since that unfortunate…the simplest way of putting it, in Soho. 6 months and right in the middle of them, he got a call. A voicemail. It started off a bit timid, unsure if he should even do this, but continued on more passionately. It got very personal, going into the deep details of Heaven and Aziraphale’s feelings about the whole ordeal. Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t all that he had hoped it would be. A bit of a letdown, however, he wasn’t showing it directly considering his voice still had its usually calm disposition.  Eventually it became something Crowley hadn’t expected, but unknowingly craved. At almost the tail end of the message, the angel said something he wouldn’t soon forget. “I’m sorry….” His voice a tender whisper like always when he was upset. Crowley was no stranger to it, by now he had every little detail, inflection, and hesitation of the other memorized. Once again, he had Crowley falling to his knees and his heart skipping a beat. 

If only he hadn’t missed it, then maybe his message would last forever. 

Since that day, the automated recording of Aziraphale played on and on, deeply rooted in Crowley’s subconscious. Whenever there was a quiet moment or was about to fall asleep, he would think about it and stare off into space. The angel had him hooked like a sailor to a siren, falling into the sweet temptation of his song. If there was one thing it did other than driving Crowley mad, it somewhat relieved the anger he had towards him. He wasn’t angry, he didn’t even like it, to be quite honest. Jealous? Betrayed? Definitely, but the anger in those feelings melted away. He could never truly be mad at him. He just wished the both of them hadn’t been so clueless about it all. That he hadn’t missed his call, that he was more direct with how he felt instead of rushing in, that he hadn’t scared off the one thing that actually meant something to him. That Aziraphale stayed, yet the last thing he could never ask of him. He knew how much doing the right thing meant. It had to be one of them and after all he was Crowley, it wasn’t like he was going to do anything “moral” any time soon. Plus this was his best friend, and in the deep recesses of his mind, his soulmate; he wouldn’t make him choose. There were many things he could ask or do to others, but to the angel, he just couldn’t. 

Now as the demon laid in his flat staring at the ceiling, the overwhelming urge to pick up the phone returned. 

He suspected it wouldn’t go through, that the angel would prefer to hear from anyone else but him, but a small part of him argued against it. It wasn’t a big deal. He’d done it hundreds of times before, what was stopping him now? Some petty feelings? No. He was just being a baby, as always. Clicking his tongue and groaning slightly, he dragged his hand across his face, trying to bring himself back to reality. He turned his head to look out the window and stared disinterested at the lamps lighting up his dark corner of Mayfair. Any other time he wouldn’t have paid it much attention since it just wasn’t a big deal. Now though, the warm glow seemed to ease his mind, just a little bit. After a while of looking out into the night, Crowley sighed and shrugged his shoulders. “Guess I could give it a try. Why not?” He whispered to himself and turned around. Sitting with his back towards the wall, he took the telephone next to his bed and dialed the number. 

The few moments it took for it to go through had him anxiously pinching at the skin on his arm. Why was it taking so long…? And why did he care? His mouth went dry as time dragged on until he was brought out of his nervous stupor by a voice. 

“I know you’re there, are you just not gonna say anything, dumbass?” Gabriel replied disinterestedly when he answered the phone.  

Crowley raised an eyebrow and looked over confused. “How’d you know it was me? That recognizable, am I? Hm, doesn't seem like much of a stretch, I’ll be honest.” He shrugged.

Gabriel rolled his eyes and rubbed his temple. “Yeah. If you actually called for something important, maybe do it instead of wasting my time. This is a very busy line, you know.” 

Crowley scoffed. “Yeah, I’m sure it is.” He closed his eyes for a while before opening them again. “Why did I think this was a good idea?” He sighed, regretting this whole call in an instant. He knew it was dumb, Gaberial was just proving his point. “Nevermind, it wasn’t important…” He muttered before putting the setting the receiver back down on the display. Albeit a little roughly. He shook his head, pissed at himself for even thinking about it in the first place.  

With nothing better to do, he stood up and poured himself a generous glass of wine.  Red, to be specific. He just wanted to forget and he knew he couldn’t forever, but that moment of bliss that’d come after he couldn’t resist. Moments dragged on in a slow slog as a second cup was slammed down on the table. In the hope that the sweet release of sleep would come soon enough. If the slowly emptying bottle was anything to go by, the demon was about to pass out from delirium. Not before crawling back into bed though. He’d made the mistake of painfully waking up on the ground too many times to risk that again.  

Sinking into his bed and hiding underneath his mounds of blankets, he fell asleep. 

~~~~~~~~~~

The angel looked nervously at the door before knocking. He knew it was a bad idea showing up here, especially unannounced. He wasn’t normally one for such an informal gesture, but now was the exception. He’d understand, right? Probably not, yet it was still worth a try. 

Crowley answered the door to find an uncharacteristically anxious angel. He couldn’t believe it….was-was that really him? No..no, it couldn’t be….

Aziraphale’s eyes widened and he was brought out of his panic to see a pair of golden eyes staring at him, confused, clueless, and a bit…hurt? It was odd to see him without his sunglasses, so he could clearly see he was feeling something, just not exactly what. 

“Crowley-! I know you must be furious to see me, especially just at your door without saying anything. But I can explain, before I do though, I really need you to know this.” Aziraphale’s face softened and he turned to look the demon in the eye. “I’m sorry. For…everything. I’m not asking you to forgive me, but you’re my friend. And I want you to know that I never wanted to hurt you, but I know I did….” 

“And it was one of my biggest regrets.” 

Crowley was taken aback. How was he supposed to respond to that? He couldn’t believe it. His breath hitched in the back of his throat and he bit his lower lip, determined not to get upset over this. 

“Well, I guess you ought to know how I got here. To put it lightly..” Aziraphale paused and chuckled sadly. “I fell, or got demoted technically. Turns out they really didn’t need me after all, I tried to fix too many things and they just weren’t having it. This isn’t me trying to get your sympathy though, but I thought you should know.”

Crowley couldn’t help it. He started to laugh despite his feelings. A slow sad chuckle. Shaking his head, he felt himself almost smiling. “I’ll be damned. The great “Aziraphale” really became Mr. Fell, I can’t believe it. You cheeky bastard.” He laughed and looked at Aziraphale, that familiar face making his heart flutter once again. He couldn’t believe it. He had to be joking. Right?

Aziraphale laughed as well and felt his cheeks turn red in embarrassment. “I’m serious, shockingly enough. I still can’t believe it.” He admitted. “It looks like we have something else in common, other than knowing I’m a complete idiot. I knew I should’ve at least said something to you before leaving, hell, I could’ve called you back. But I was too caught up in my own head to do it.” He sighed and shook his head. 

Crowley stepped forward and tilted his head to look at the angel. “You’re right about that. You are an idiot.” He smirked while pressing his face into his shoulder.

Aziraphale gasped in fake shock and pretended to look offended. “You slithery little menace.” He looked down and pulled the other into a hug, resting his chin on the top of his head. “You have no idea how I’ve missed you.” 

Crowley was surprised at first at the sudden motion, but quickly melted into the embrace. He thought he’d never know how much he’d hurt, how much he missed him until now. He could tell that those bright, knowing eyes understood. All that had happened before wasn’t forgotten, but didn’t matter to him anymore. The only things that did were him and Aziraphale. His angel. He muttered back, muffled by still pressing against his shoulder. 

“Likewise, angel.” 

~~~~~~~~~~

As much as it seemed so and he wanted it to be, it wasn’t real. He hated himself for it. For wanting so desperately for that to happen. To feel him, see him, at least hear his voice again, even if only in his head. Only as a dream made to soothe his mind that would inevitably leave him empty. Tears on his pillow as he cried in the darkness, both relieved and torn that he was alone. 

However, if the figure standing at his doorway was anything to go by, then maybe he wasn’t alone after all. But the sleeping demon didn’t notice. 

_____________

Okay I promise I'm not dead xD I know it's not a big deal, but I just wanted to let you know. I've finally gotten back into writing and I'm gonna get my asks answered as soon as I can, so tysm for putting up with me!! Also, happy October! It's finally spooky season and I'm s o excited :D. Especially since I'm going to do Whumptober for the first time (even though I'm 6 days late 😭) Don't worry, I'm still going to do my usual content too, this'll just be more active/take up more of time. That's all, so there'll still be plenty of normal not sad content on here <3 Thank you guys so so much for putting up with my random absences, life's just been pretty busy recently and I suck at managing my time well. I hope you're all having a wonderful day and remember to take care of yourselves! Rest, eat something, have some water, all that fun stuff and I'll be back with some content soon enough :D

[violets-and-books]

Favorite prompt list I've ever made

So good for the crows

I do think I'll be using it for Whumptober 👀

Bestie, PLEASE do

2 and 3 are Kaz, 4 is Jesper and 9, 11 and 14 are very Wylan, I love it

2 is literally the start of Wylan and Kaz's conversation in Chapter 15 of BBYK, lol

Bestie these are great and if you do whumptober I'll actually scream with joy (I don't think I'll do whumptober this year 😭😭 I've got too much on)

[mieowzu]

MY WHUMPTOBER AO3 MASTERLIST!

i'm so glad i finished this, and my small speech is found on day 31 in the end notes. my first whumptober year and i'm proud to call myself a completionist.

day one - "how many fingers am i holding up?"

day two - delirium

day three - solitary confinement

day four - "you in there?"

day five - "it's broken"

day six - "it should have been me"

day seven - "can you hear me?"

day eight - "it's all for nothing"

day nine - polaroid

day ten - "you said you'd never leave"

day eleven - "no one will find you"

day twelve - "i haven't slept in days, but who's counting?"

day thirteen - "i don't feel good"

day fourteen - water inhalation

day fifteen - makeshift bandages

day sixteen - "would you just lie with me and forget the world?"

day seventeen - touch aversion

day eighteen - sub-in, shaking

day nineteen - floral bouquet

day twenty - found family

day twenty-one - "don't move"

day twenty-two - vehicular accident

day twenty-three - sub-in, aftermath of failure

day twenty-four - neglect

day twenty-five - storm

day twenty-six - seeing double

day twenty-seven - matches

day twenty-eight - "you'll have to go through me"

day twenty-nine - scented candle

day thirty - borrowed clothing

day thirty-one - "take it easy"

[willows-adventures-in-words]

So, yeah, I'm definitely going to be posting some stuff for Whumptober this year. I have things written for four of the prompts so far. But now I feel like I'm in limbo. I have vague ideas for quite a few of the prompts and a desire to write for some of the other ones. But my creative juices don't want to work properly. Part of me says I'm running out of time but really I'm not. It's not even mid-september yet. In the end I'm hoping to get ten of them written.

But on another note, one of the prompts 'forced' me to write a scene for a story I'm working on that I've been wanting to write. And another one gave me an excuse start on something I've been wanting to try to write for a bit. Just a little different than planned considering what my current pool of inspiration is.

[whumptober]

WHUMPTOBER 2024: PROMPTS LIST

Welcome to Whumptober 2024 — Seventh Time's a Charm!

Please make sure to read the Event Info and FAQ below carefully, as most of your questions will be answered there already. For everything else, you are welcome to come to our ask box or ask questions in our Discord server here.

This year’s AO3 Collection can be found here.

This year's playlist can be found here.

The 'Anatomy of a Whumptober Prompt' post can be found here.

And our 'Resources for Writing Sensitive Topics' post is here.

We’re very excited to see the community come together for another year of Whumptober! Go wild with the prompts, and support your fellow creators - we wish you all the fun!

Best of luck and happy whumping,

Mods Vanne, Yenn, Kitty and Surro

(Text versions of the prompts, as well as event information, rules and FAQ are posted below the cut!)

Whumptober 2024 Prompt List

No. 1: RACE AGAINST THE CLOCK

Search Party | Panic Attack | "If only we could hold on.” (Icysami x Renegaderr, Strangers.)

No. 2: TRUST ISSUES

Amusement Park | Role Reversal | “You got away with the crime while the knife's in my back.” (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

No. 3: SET UP FOR FAILURE

Fingerprints | Wrongfully Arrested | "I warned you."

No. 4: HALLUCINATIONS

Hypnosis | Sensory Deprivation | “You're still alive in my head.” (Billy Lockett, More)

No. 5: SUNBURN

Healing Salve | Heatstroke | "If my pain will stretch that far." (Lottery Winners, Burning House)

No. 6: NOT REALISING THEY'RE INJURED

Unhealthy Coping Mechanisms | Healed Wrong | "It's not my blood."

No. 7: ONLY FOR EMERGENCIES

Unconventional Weapon | Magic with a Cost | "It's us or them."

No. 8: SLEEP DEPRIVATION

Isolation Chamber | Forced to Stay Awake | "Leave the lights on." (Coldplay, Midnight)

No. 9: OBSESSION

Broken Window | Bruises | “Frame me up on the wall, just to keep me out of trouble.” (Fall Out Boy, Irresistible)

No. 10: BLOW TO THE HEAD

Slurred Words | Passing Out from Pain | "I can't think straight."

No. 11: SEEING DOUBLE

Convenience Store | Loneliness | “Leave no trace behind, like you don't even exist.” (Taylor Swift, Illicit Affairs)

No. 12: STARVATION

Underground Caverns | Cannibalism | "Just a little more."

No. 13: TEAM AS A FAMILY

Familial Curse | Multiple Whumpees | "Death will do us part." (Set It Off, Partner's In Crime)

No. 14: LEFT FOR DEAD

Hunting Gear | Blackmail | “Because I want you to know what it feels like to be haunted” (tiLLie, kooL aiD mAn)

No. 15: CHILDHOOD TRAUMA

Painful Hug | Moment of Clarity | "I did good, right?"

No. 16: NECROSIS

Swamp | Wound Cleaning | "No, I can't feel anything."

No. 17: NOWHERE ELSE TO GO

Ruined Map | Shipwrecked | "We had a good run."

No. 18: REVENGE

Unreliable Narrator | Loss of Identity | “I see what's mine and take it.” (Panic! at the Disco, Emperor's New Clothes)

No. 19: BLOOD TRAIL

Abandoned Cabin | One Way Out | "Is there anybody alive out there?" (Bruce Springsteen, Radio Nowhere)

No. 20: EMOTIONAL ANGST

Shoulder to Cry On | Giving Permission to Die | "It's not your fault."

No. 21: BODY HORROR

Body Horror | Tattoo Gun | Spirit Possession | “Let the bedsheet soak up the tears.” (Apparat feat. Soap & Skin, Goodbye)

No. 22: BLEEDING THROUGH BANDAGES

Tourniquet | Reopening Wounds | "Oh that's not good."

No. 23: FORCED CHOICE

Public Display | Broken Pedestal | "I'm doing this for you."

No. 24: RADIATION POISONING

Collapsed Building | Equipment Failure | “I never knew daylight could be so violent.” (Florence + The Machine, No Light, No Light)

No. 25: SURGERY

Stitches | Being Monitored | "It's for your own good."

No. 26: NIGHTMARES

Breakfast Table | Parting Words of Regret | “I'm haunted by the lies that I have loved, the actions I have hated.” (Poe, Haunted)

No. 27: VOICELESS

Laboratory | Muzzled | “I have no mouth and I must scream.”

No. 28: DENIAL

CCTV | Exposure | "They caught me red handed."

No. 29: FATIGUE

Labyrinth | Burnout | "Who said you could rest?"

No. 30: RECOVERY

Hospital Bed | Holding Back Tears | "What have I done?"

No. 31: ASKING FOR HELP

Therapy | Making Amends | "I'm alive, I'm just not well." (Elliot Lee, Alive, Not Well.)

Alternatives List:

Body Swap

Communication Barrier

Finding Old Messages

Forgotten

Friendly Fire

Motion Sickness

No-Holds-Barred Beatdown

Regret

Secrets Revealed

Shivering

Survivor's Guilt

Time Loop

Used As Bait

Venom

Vermin

Event Info & Rules

WHUMPTOBER is a month-long, prompt-based creation challenge (think: Inktober, but whumpier). There are 31 official themes this year - one for each day of the month - which can be used, skipped, or combined in any way you’d like. They are meant to serve as inspiration without being taken literally (e.g. you don’t have to include the exact wording of prompts into your work). Feel free to run rampant on interpretation. For example, if the prompt is “flame", you could create something with reference to a candle/campfire, your character could have suffered a burn, or the flame could be a reference to an ‘old flame’ - an old relationship. It’s truly down to you!

In total, there are 4 prompts for each day. These are optional suggestions and can be used in conjunction with the theme, or as options/alternatives.  We want to give everyone as much creative freedom as possible, as well as increase event accessibility for folks with triggers and squicks. There is also a list of 15 alternative prompts that can be subbed in for any day, again to give participants as much creative freedom as possible.

Creators can PRODUCE work in any media they choose, including but not limited to: writing, visual artwork, photo/video/audio edits, paper crafts and elaborate recommendation lists (not just a list of links). Creators can PARTICIPATE as much or as little as they want (i.e. you don’t have to do ALL the prompts if you don’t want to) and prompts can be used in any order. They are also free to use even after the event ends.

When uploading Whumptober content to your blog, be sure to tag it with:

#whumptober2024 …..(the event tag)

#no.1, #no.2, #no.3, …..(theme number)

#bruises, #stabbing, …..(the theme or specific prompt you chose)

#altprompt …..(if you use an altprompt, tag the post with the number of the prompt you replace)

#fandom or #OC, …..(ironman, original content, oc, etc.)

#medium …..(gifs, fic, podcast, art, etc.)

#teeth, #etc …..(trigger warnings & any additional tags. Keep in mind not to add “tw” in front but only use the word/trigger itself)

#nsfwhump …..(only for nsfw content)

#your own tags go here

PLEASE BE DILIGENT WITH YOUR TAGGING. Only properly tagged posts are considered for archiving on the official @whumptober-archive blog. They must be tagged in the order above. An elaborate post about our tagging system can be found [here]

Unfortunately, due to the sheer number of participants in recent years, we cannot guarantee your work will be archived. A random selection of properly tagged posts from all genres will be reblogged each day.

Whumpers who produce content for 31 total theme days are considered event completionists and will be tagged in a masterpost at the end of the month. A form will be published at the beginning of November asking you to tell us if you completed. This is based on trust and we will not check this.

Frequently Asked Questions

Please read this before you send an ask!

TIMELINE

July: Trope voting form released. Late August: Prompt list is released for at least four weeks of preparation time. Tropes cannot be posted earlier than August 25th because of Moderator obligations in real life. (But, you know, go ahead and start writing/drawing, and add the themes in later, if you want!) September: Do as much or as little on your works as you want. You can prepare everything in advance or let September go by with vibes and start working in October. It’s up to you. October 1st: Challenge begins! A storm of whump breaks upon us all! During this time, some posts will be reblogged to the whumptober archive blog. We open the yearly AO3 collection for posting (optional). November 1st: The challenge is officially over! Completionist form opens for those who want to be included in the hall-of-fame. Early November: We release completionist and participant badges, solicit feedback, and post a hall-of-fame list of completionists by the 10th.

PARTICIPATION AND COMPLETION

Q: What counts as participation? Create or continue at least one work inspired by one of this year’s prompts. Q: What counts as completion? Creating work(s) inspired by at least one prompt from each day (or alts), for a total of 31 unique prompts. Q: Do I need to create 31 works? No. You can, if you want. Or you can create one work that you add to every day with a new prompt. Or several works that combine prompts. You can also update an existing work by adding new material with the current prompts. Q: Do I need to post my works somewhere to be a completionist or a participant? No. Q: How do you know I actually completed the challenge? We’ll take your word for it! Q: Do I have to finish my work(s) to be a completionist? No, you can post WIPs. And you’re not obligated to finish them in October, but if you want it to count towards being a completionist, you must have completed 31 prompts by the end of the month. So for example, if you’re writing a long fic and you fit 31 different prompts into the writing you did in October, it’s okay if that fic isn’t finished by the time October ends, you’ll still be a completionist. Q: Is co-writing/illustrating allowed? Yes, absolutely, and it would count towards being a completionist for both/all of you. Q: Is there a min/max limit on word count for written works? No. Q: Is there a min/max limit of quality for art? No. Q: Do I have to do something each day to be a completionist? No. You can skip days whenever you want, and as long as 31 daily prompts (or alts) are in your works done in October, you can be a completionist. For example, if you wrote a 1000-word ficlet that covers prompts in days 2, 3, and 17, you can check all three days off your list even though it’s only one work. Q: Is this challenge just for fics? No! Artworks, GIFsets, headcannons, rec lists, poetry, moodboards, or any other creative work is encouraged. Q: Can I combine Whumptober with other creation challenges? Absolutely, as long as the other challenges allow it too.

PROMPTS

Q: How do the prompts work? There are FOUR prompts per day: a theme and three ideas. You can use one, two, three, or all four prompts for each day. If you don’t like any of the daily prompts, you can substitute one of the ALT prompts instead. Q: How strictly/literally should we interpret the prompts? As literally or as figuratively as you want. For example, if the theme is WATER, that could mean drowning, waterboarding, raining, swimming, take place underwater, be lost at sea, construct a metaphor about a character’s mood that changes like a flowing river, crying, or whatever else you can think of that fits that theme. Q: Can I combine prompts? Is there a limit on how many? No limit and combine as many as you’d like. If you create a work that checks off multiple prompts, that work will count for a fill of multiple prompts. You need to address 31 different prompts to be an official completionist, but you don’t have to produce 31 separate works.

WORKS

Q: What’s whump? Hurting a character, whether that’s physically, emotionally, intellectually, psychologically, or any other way you can think of. Comfort afterwards is optional. Angst is emotional whump, so it counts. Q: How do I know if it’s whumpy enough? If your character is just mildly inconvenienced, it probably needs more whump. However, no participant has to prove whumpiness to the mods. Whatever you write is up to you. Q: What kind of characters can I create for? Anything. Generic “whumpee,” OC, PC, NPC, major characters, minor characters, or whatever you want. There are no limits. Q: Does it have to take place in a specific fandom? No, you can create works for your own worlds or for fandoms or for both. You can also create more generic or pan-fandom works. You can do cross-overs or use OCs, whatever you want. Q: Can I create AI-created works? We will not reblog or promote any works we know to be generative AI-created. Q: Is there anything we’re not allowed to write? As long as it contains whump and is based on our prompts, it’s fine. Please courtesy tag your works if you post them so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences. Q: What about sex, minor characters, and potentially disturbing content? You can create whatever works are legal in your country and post them accordingly. Please courtesy tag anything you think might be objectionable if you post to Tumblr so people who follow the #whumptober2024 tag can filter according to their preferences.

POSTING

Q: Where can I post my work? Post where and how you want. You don’t even have to (cross)post it to Tumblr. Just keep in mind if it’s not on Tumblr we will not be able to add it to the blog archive. There is an AO3 archive for Whumptober 2024, as well as the parent collection for works completed outside of the event. Q: Can I start posting early? You can, but this is an October event and wouldn’t it be more fun with everyone doing it at the same time? We won’t be reblogging any work predating October 1st. Q: Can I post late? Yes. For the sake of our hardworking Post Fairies, only a day’s themes will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive each day of October. But you can post whenever. Some of us are still working on and posting Whumptober fics from years ago. Q: Do I have to use your tags? Only on Tumblr and only if you want us to reblog your work on @whumptober-archive. Q: How do I have my works reblogged to the archive? Properly tagged posts will be reblogged to @whumptober-archive. If you want the official archive blog to reblog you, post on Tumblr and tag correctly (see this FAQ link for more info on tagging). Please note not all posts will be reblogged each day. Q: Can we @ you? For questions and comments, of course. We’ll be getting a flood of notifications, so if you really want us to see something send an ask. Q: Can I cross post on other blogs? Yes, multiple platforms and blogs are perfectly acceptable, as long as they allow cross-posting (to us). You can also post different works to different accounts under different names, without posting them everywhere at once. If you post some works under your main and others under an alt blog, that’s fine for completionist purposes. Q: Can I upload/repost my Whumptober content to other social media platforms? Of course! We’ve created an AO3 Collection to archive any fics posted there, which can be found here. The blog is the official archive, so please respect the personal boundaries of any whumpers in your social circle (don’t out anyone as a participant who would prefer not to be outed).

Most importantly, have fun, create, and enjoy all the whump posted this October!

[aaronnaphiliou]

END OF WHUMPTOBER

This was my first time ever participating in something like this, and I want to thank everybody who has kudoed, liked, and shared my work this past month. Thanks to you guys, I managed to complete all 31 days!