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whumpypepsigal · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 | No. 8

Outnumbered

Titans s04e07: “There, there, now. Take it easy, old Teddy.”

+bonus:

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #dc titans #titans #gifs #whumpedit #whump #attacked #kicked #manhandling #taser #electrocution #collapse #weak #passing out #my gifs #dick grayson #brenton thwaites

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whumpneto · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 - No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” Overcrowded ER | Outnumbered | “It’s all for nothing.”

Milo Ventimiglia as Peter Petrelli in Heroes (S04E08)

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #overcrowded er #heroes #milo ventimiglia #peter petrelli #shadowboxing #gifs #exhaustion #my gifs #whumpedit #long post #queue

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insertsomthinawesome · 1 year

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WHUMPTOBER 2022 - DAY 8 - Head Trauma

"Oh! And I forgot one other rule. Accidents, happen.” - Hades, Kingdom Hearts

-NO ROMANCE INCLUDED-

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aceofwhump · 7 months

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Day 8: Alternate Prompt: Betrayal

@whumptober @whumptober-archive

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cyberwhumper · 7 months

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He could hear them even before they unlocked the heavy chains that protected the gates to the abandoned warehouse. Loud music playing from car speakers, raucous partygoers, and copious amounts of drugs and booze for everyone to enjoy to their heart's content. He listens to them pouring into the building and the noise grows exponentially louder, bouncing off the empty walls and throwing off his ability to perceive sound direction entirely.

As the hours pass and the party shows no sign of dying down, Whiskey almost feels a sense of relief that they would be way too busy with it to harass him instead. He allows himself to relax a little, tries to make his body as comfortable as possible so he can finally get some rest. Before he is even able to close his eyes, the door to his makeshift cell opens and a dozen curious eyes land squarely on him.

Fuck. I'm gonna be the entertainment, aren't I?

Before he could finish that thought or protest, pain overwhelms his senses as Baxter yanks his chain so harshly his ankle starts to bleed again. Everything feels distant and quickly fading away from his vision until he's brought back by a couple of rough slaps across the face.

"You better cut this shit out and stand up, fucker. My guests want to take a look at you!"

"Go.. fu..ck.. yours…–"

His captor kicks him unceremoniously on the bleeding ankle, quickly curbing his typical defiant act. A wave of nausea hits him, and he dry heaves and gags and struggles to not appear like he's completely defeated. Two of Baxter's gang members pull him up by his armpits and drag him out of the cell and across the rugged floors, parading him around like some sort of circus animal. His good foot is scraped and bruised as he desperately tries to push back against them and free himself, but the more he struggles the more exhausted he gets.

"Hey people, gather round!" Baxter pipes up, waving his hands in the air to beckon them closer. "We gonna play a little game!"

He winds up in a dramatic gesture to amp up the crowd and punches Whiskey straight on his broken ribs. He screams in agony, body contorting in involuntary spasms as if trying to protect his wounds was at all possible with his hands tied up above him. Baxter smiles at the excited partygoers.

"First one to make this prick piss himself in pain gets drinks on me for a week. Good luck ladies and gentlemen!"

When morning finally breaks, he's long since stopped screaming.

Tag list: @whumpsday // @demondamage //

If you’re interested in being added to the tag list, please let me know!

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jasmines-library · 7 months

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Let It Linger

WHUMPTOBER 2023: Prompt: shock/dissociation.

Fandom: Supernatural

Summary: after a rough hunt resurfaces some unwanted memories, you slip into your own mind. But Sam is there to help you through it.

Warnings: Dissociation, ptsd, mild depression, character death.

Word count: 1.1K (short but sweet.)

Note: not too keen on this one but it was written in a hurry. Not my best work - not proof read.

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER WORKS

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

The hunt couldn’t have gone more wrong.

You had been hunting a shtriga; a nasty, humanoid creature that feeds off of a human’s lifeforce- usually a childs. This one had attached itself to a young girl no more than five or six. The issue with shrtrigas was that they were hard to kill, only vulnerable once feeding. So, much to your reluctance, the three of you were forced to rely on allowing the creature to feed on the girl so that you could lace it full of iron rounds.

You watched through the crack in the wardrobe as the window slid open, pushed by a bony, tree-like hand. The shtriga floated across the room, positioning itself above the small girl. You watched wide eyed as her life drained out of her body slowly, white tendrils drifting into the air like smoke and into the creature's scarred face. You pushed the door open and slipped out of the small space, cocking your pistol and standing behind the shtriga. You aimed, finger poised on the cold and worn trigger. But then your eyes settled on the pained expression of her fragile body as the creature continued to feed. And you froze.

The creature loomed above the girl who lay helpless in the bed before you. It was tall and shrivelled with dark eyes. You watched frozen as the wisps rose from her body and tried into the creature's mouth. You had only stepped out for a minute to get some water.

You screamed, a loud blood curdling scream, but still it made no move other than to hover closer to the girl. She shared some of the same features as you, your nose, your lips. Her eyes were different though. You had always admired her eyes and the way that their hues shifted as they hit the light and how they lit up when she smiled. Though now, as you stood helpless, her eyes were almost completely white, bloodshot and rolling into the back of her head. Her lips were parted as she tried to suck in air that refused to enter her lungs. You would never forget the way her body slumped back onto her pink sheets as the creature slunk back out of the window. Despite her whimpers and weak cries of your name your body refused to move. It took too long for you to snap out of your own mind and rush forwards towards your sister's limp body. She trembled as you lifted her into your arms. You rocked back and forth slowly, whispering assurances into her ear and pressing a soft kiss to her forehead. By the time the denim-clad man and his son appeared in the doorway, her heartbeat had already stopped.

The men exchanged glances before taking a step towards you. It took a while to coax anything out of you between your sobs, but after pushing they managed to get a name.

“Y/N”

“Y/N?”

“Y/N?!”

Dean was yelling at you. At some point he had scrambled out from under the bed and had gripped your shoulders tight. You flinched at the gunshot as Sam fired at the creature which howled and slunk away. Your eyes shifted from staring vacantly to Dean’s greens. Your pistol shook in your hand, so you dropped it, sending it clattering to the floor.

The room was silent. Too silent.

Pushing away from Dean you moved towards the bed where the girl lay morbidly still.

“No…No…”

Taking the girl in your arms, you cradled her head. Tears spilled from your eyes. You had fucked up. You had frozen and it had cost this girl her life.

~~~

You were silent the whole way back to the bunker. Just staring blankly out of the rain covered windows of the Impala, knees hugged closely to your chest. The brothers both cast glances from the front seat, and had even called your names a few times, but you were seemingly oblivious to the world around you.

When you arrived back at the bunker, you almost mechanically retreated into your room to curl up on your bed.

Time didn’t seem to move. Nothing seemed to matter. You didn’t feel like you. The world around you had begun to feel like one giant blur. Your body didn’t feel like your body. You felt as though you were moving and seeing through one giant lens or through another person. Nothing seemed sane and quite frankly you didn’t even care anymore. You couldn’t stop thinking about that girl- about your little sister all those years ago.

You fiddled absentmindedly with your fingers, picking out the dirt from beneath your nails. You were laying on top of the covers with your knees pulled up to your chest. You weren’t sure how much time had passed before there was a gentle knock on the door. It barely registered in your mind and you made no move to get up to answer it, only continuing to stare blankly white wall opposite. Your lack of response made Sam furrow his brow

“Y/N?” His tone was tender but cautious.

Your eyes shifted towards the heavy sound of his boots padding across the floor. He knelt down beside you on the bed, calling your name again. There was still no reply. You moved your head when you felt his hand enclose around yours, warm and calloused against your skin. He had those puppy dog eyes set about his face as he studied you.

For a while you said nothing, just clutched onto his hand. Sam didn’t leave your side as you tried to fight through your own mind.

“Sam?”

He twisted round to face you resting his chin on the mattress so that they were inline with yours. You were silent for a moment after that. Struggling to think of what to say next. You felt a lack of control within your body. It felt like you were learning to use your body all over again.

“I’m sorry.” You mumbled. Tears cascaded down your cheeks. “I couldn’t… I just couldn’t.”

Sam wiped away your stray tears.

“It reminded me too much of her.”

“It’s okay, kiddo. We can’t save everyone.”

“But if i hadn’t-”

“Shh.” Sam cooed. “It’s okay.”

“Sam… stay with me. Please.”

“Of course.”

“No, I mean really stay with me.” You manoeuvred your body to face him. He could see the way your bloodshot eyes struggled to settle on anything for too long. He could see the tracks that your tears had left as they rolled down your cheeks. “Promise me you’ll never leave me…please.”

“I promise.”

🕸 ⋆ ⁶𖤐⁶ ࣪⋆🕸

<- DAY SEVEN ⛤ DAY NINE ->

🏷️ Taglist:

@senjoritanana

@deans-spinster-witch

@amaryllis23

#whumptober #wumptober 2023 #whunptober23 #no.8 #prompt #dissociation #shock #supernatural x reader #Sam Winchester x reader #Winchester x reader #Dean Winchester x reader #supernatural x sister reader #Sam x sister reader #Dean x sister reader #character death #minor character death #writing #depression #ptsd

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omgiamwish · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 Day 8 - "It's all for nothing."

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #it's all for nothing #rottmnt #art #character death #blood #injury #tmnt #tmnt 2018 #leonardo #future leo #casey jones #casey jr #fan art #artists on tumblr

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gierosajie-art · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 Prompt List | No. 8: “I’ve got soul, but I’m not a soldier.” | “It’s all for nothing.”

[Ghost Trick: Phantom Detective]

But I was just a little too late.

I had just missed her as she left this world...she left me a note that said, "I'm coming to you, ▇▇▇▇."

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #'it's all for nothing'#ghost trick #suicide tw #art #fanart #ghost trick spoilers #the art drawer

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whumpsday · 7 months

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K&J: Kane's Whumptober Bites #8

Chronological masterlist / Writing order masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, beating, burns, broken bones, multiple whumpers, begging, captivity

@whumptober Day 8: Outnumbered / “It’s all for nothing.”

another early-captivity one!

-

Kane cried out as another silver-toed boot rammed into him, searing a welt into his chest. He’d grown so weak from hunger over the past weeks, a kick from a mere human was enough to send a crack through his rib, now.

He gasped, curling in on himself. Pathetic. He could hardly even bring himself to care how low he’d fallen in the face of so much–

It had been nearly two months since Kane ended up here, and as much as he hated to admit it, he was starting to lose his will to fight.

There was no chance. The more time went by, the weaker he became, his body floundering without any source of food. God, he was so hungry. What was the point of resisting? It was hopeless, and only earned him more trouble.

As humiliating as it was, he was starting to think that avoiding pain might be more important than–

Another hunter pressed the silver of his shoe into Kane’s cheek, and he screamed. He tried to thrash away, but there were too many of them, he’d lost count. So many hunters and only one him, broken and starving and when would it be enough already–

–His dignity. Something he’d valued so highly before. He was a noble, a son of Aldrich de Sang, he was meant to command respect. But he couldn’t do that here even if he tried, so what was the point?

It’s all for nothing.

“Please!” Kane cried, stopping his thrashing. “Please, sirs, I’m sorry! Have mercy!”

Such groveling was unbecoming of a noble vampire. His face burned with shame and silver alike.

As the silver retreated, he knew the shame would too, given enough encouragement. It had been over the moment the hunters had spotted him. He was already a shell of his former self.

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #it's all for nothing #oc #fic #beating #burns #broken bones #captivity #kane and jim drabbles #kanes whumptober bites #whump #my writing #vampire whumpee #vampire whump #begging

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whumpetywhump · 7 months

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Whumptober Day 8 - Outnumbered

Bad Boys J - Ep. 11

Chimera - Ep. 14

Love Like The Galaxy - Ep. 43

Missing: The Other Side - Ep. 8

The Devil Judge - Ep. 13

#whumptober 2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #bad boys j #chimera #love like the galaxy #missing the other side #the devil judge #whump #kwhump #cwhump #jwhump #asian whump #gifs

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how-much-for-a-whump · 7 months

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WHUMPTOBER day 8:

Prompt: "I've got soul, but I'm not a soldier."

Aşk Bu mu? (2018)

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #I've got soul but I'm not a soldier #aşk bu mu #gifs #kubilay aka #turkish #turkish movie #whump #male whump #wounded #captured #at gunpoint #broken nose #dizzy #hospital #oxygen mask #worried

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lost-shoe · 2 years

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Bucky Barnes/The Winter Soldier

Whumptober 2022

No. 8 EVERYTHING HURTS AND I’M DYING

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befuddled-calico-whump · 7 months

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Hand in Hand (part three)

@whumptober No. 8 "It's all for nothing."

cw: violence/beating

previous ///// au masterlist ///// next

~ ~ ~

Dan is awake long before the cell door swings open. The only way he could sleep with even a little comfort was sitting up, back pressed into the wall, and now he's stiff all over. He can't imagine how Wes feels. His arms must be dead from the partial suspension, shoulders aching, legs well-past being asleep. If he begs Swift, will she at least loosen the chains enough for him to lie down? He's willing to try.

But it isn't Swift who steps inside. It's a pair of Riot Kings. Both are wearing masks. Pointlessly; he knows who they are, but maybe it's in an effort to make themselves feel better about this. They must feel at least some kind of shame, right?

"Peres. Sawyer," he says. "What can I do for you gentlemen?" One of them, Sawyer, freezes in place as he's named, but Peres is undeterred.

"Swift wanted another demonstration with him," he says, jabbing a thumb in Wes's direction. "But I figured we'd offer you a deal."

A deal? Dan doubts it's anything good, but if they feel guilty enough to try and hide behind masks, maybe they still have the decency to not want to hurt Wes. "What sort of deal?" he says.

Peres lays a hand on his shoulder. "I'm gonna unchain you, and I'm gonna beat the shit outta you."

Dan makes an effort to hold still, not letting his apprehension cross his face. "Doesn't sound like the kind of deal I usually make."

He's expecting the backhanded blow Peres deals him, but it still stings. Behind him, there's the clank of metal-on-metal as Wes throws himself against his chains.

"Fucking traitor! Leave him alone!"

Peres rolls his eyes and gestures to Sawyer, who's quick to gag Wes. Dan regretfully agrees with the decision. It's probably for the best if Wes is unable to piss these guys off.

"You didn't let me finish," Peres says. "I'm gonna beat the shit out of you. If you can take it, if you don't try to run or fight back, we'll leave him alone this time. Got it?"

Dan closes his eyes with a grimace. This will be fun. "Got it," he says flatly.

He sits perfectly still as Peres unlocks the cuffs, hands in his lap, flattened to keep him from clutching at the fabric of his pants. Even now, he needs to look stronger than he is. That's how it's always been, and he refuses to let his own mask slip now.

Dan knows he'd stand a chance against the pair, even aching and exhausted, even outnumbered. He can wait until the chains are gone, strike when neither are expecting it, and win. He could free himself and Wes.

But why unchain him at all when they could get the same result without the risk? If they want to hurt him, why not tie his hands behind his back so there's nothing he can do? Maybe they want him to try and escape, maybe they're expecting it. Maybe that's how they plan on justifying hurting Wes more, and insisting he's to blame for it.

Dan isn't about to risk it. As long as he's in this cell, surrounded by his former allies, he's powerless to stop them from hurting him, from hurting Wes. All he can do is take what he's offered and---

A fist collides with his stomach and he doubles over with a grunt. He doesn't even have time to catch his breath before it's followed by two more. Cheek, chin. Powerful enough to daze him.

"Stand up."

Dan does, getting his hands under him then carefully pushing to his feet. He doesn't stay up for long before Peres hits him in the stomach again.

Can he even block it? Move his body in such a way that he takes the least amount of damage? Or will they count it as fighting back?

"Hold him up." This is directed at Sawyer, who quickly moves behind Dan, grabbing his arms and keeping him steady.

It's all he can do to keep breathing as Peres whales on his torso, punch after punch, sharp and rapid, until Peres is panting and Dan is retching.

The other man grabs him by the shoulders and jams his knee into Dan's sternum, then lets him go. Dan doesn't even try to break his fall, just tries to keep his chin tucked as the men above him kick at his back and ribs and legs.

Beyond the blood rushing in his ears, beyond the pain the crashes down on him like a wave, threatening to completely overwhelm him, he can hear Wes's frantic shouts, muffled by the gag.

Peres---or maybe Sawyer, he can't tell anymore---gives one final kick to his stomach, and Dan cries out.

"Stand up."

He tries, but it hurts to breathe, and he can't figure out how to get his legs beneath him.

"Stand. Up."

Wes screams through the gag again, and Dan knows he has no choice. It's tedious work. A palm first, an elbow over it. A knee on the ground, and then he's slowly pushing himself up, swaying on his feet.

Peres punches him square in the jaw, and he's on his back, staring at the ceiling in a daze. One of the men above him grabs him by the hair and drags him back to the wall, locking the manacles back in place. It takes a tremendous effort to sit up, to ease the strain on his shoulders, and once he does, he can't keep his head up.

"I'm surprised you actually held out," Peres mutters, then nods to Sawyer. "Grab the cattle prod."

Dan shudders. Aren't they done? But through half-closed eyes, he sees Sawyer closing in not on him, but on Wes.

He sits up, wincing. "Y-you said--"

"I didn't think you'd make it," Peres says. "And I'm not about to go against orders from Swift."

~ ~ ~

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #it's all for nothing #oc #fic #violence tw #beating tw #riotkingsau #melchiorgoesbrr #whump #beating #restrained #literally writing this in the app lol #I've had writer's block all day but here we are!!#riotkings #multiple whumpees

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losthavenmine · 7 months

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Whumptober 2023 Day 8 || Outnumbered

Proof (1991)

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #proof #gifs #blood tw #russell crowe #hugo weaving #filmedit #moviegifs #fyeahmovies #userfilm #cinematv #cinemapix #whumpedit

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dresden-syndrome · 7 months

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8/VII-1965. EESU State Security department.

Today there was unusually cold outside - Radim could tell that by drops of rain banging on every window and the little breezes sending shivers down his skin. He was serving another punishment, sitting on the cold hallway floor, strapped to a pipe by a short chain. To him it was a lighter one, an easy one - Radim was almost thankful to get this instead of anything worse.

Two hours ago Erhardt grabbed his arm too forcefully near the office door, clenching his fingers right on the spot of a really painful bruise. Radim wasn't ready for it - the tugging pain on his wrist along with being pulled around like a rag doll was too much to handle. He twitched his arm, pushed himself to get away, struggled to free himself from the grip, making Erhardt pin him down to the floor with even more force.

It took a few minutes for comrade Gunther to hold Radim down until he stopped fighting. A few minutes of delight to watch his pet squirm under his hands. Angry, rebellious, disobedient, defiant, powerless. Hissing in a futile attempt to turn around, glaring at him from below while Erhardt didn't even make a move.

"I know, kitten. I know you don't like being held like that," - he started in a condescending tone, "Shh, calm down. You know it's all for nothing".

When Radim finally stopped struggling, his owner freed his hands, grabbed him by the collar and dragged across the hall. Then Radim was roughly pushed into the corner, a chain got attached to his collar and locked around the pipe.

"You remember what I've told you about fighting. Now sit there and think about your behavior. We'll have to talk about it once more when I come back."

As Radím sat on the cold dirty floor, hugging his knees to keep himself warm, he wondered, where would he better be? Where did he rather want to be? Shivering from the chill wind reaching the corner, he hugged himself tighter, wishing for a blanket, a cup of tea, a ray of sun for a brief moment of warmth. Dozens of officers have walked through the room, throwing condescending looks on him, "the Comrade Minister's pet" as they said about him, some stopped to stroke his face, touch his old leather collar or just stand there straight, enjoying the sight of a "people's enemy" left to freeze down in the corner. That's what Radím was - a people's enemy, even in the uniform, trained for simple department work. It's the law: once a traitor, forever a traitor. Traitors don't get blankets or hot tea. Nobody's here to risk getting scolded by the boss for messing up his pet's punishment.

The cold was getting worse, the discomfort turned into pain Radím restlessly tried to soothe by moving his aching legs side to side. He couldn't stand up or turn around - the chain attached to his collar was way too short for it. He pushed his neck one time. Another. The chain didn't move. Desperate to move away from the corner, even a bit, Radim leaned to the wall, his hands now reached the collar in an attrmpt to tear it down. No, no way. It hurts. His neck hurts, his hands hurt. The collar is too strong to break. He starts to fight, again. And stops, again. It's all for nothing.

Day 8 of Whumptober

Prompt: "It's all for nothing"

Art taglist: @painful-pooch @prismpanic @generic-whumperz @suspicious-whumping-egg @onlywhump

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #it's all for nothing #oc #art #writing #collar #chained #historical whump #military whump #pet whump #whump art #whump community #whumpblr #whump oc #whump ideas #whumpee #captive whumpee #defiant whumpee

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bumblingdragon · 7 months

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Whumptober - day 8 - Outnumbered

#whumptober2023 #no.8 #outnumbered #OC #art #blood #impalement #digital art #my ocs #Lee #oh he's so saint sebastian coded #(i dont feel like drawing clothes)#my art

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