Any media form is allowed (art, fic, gifs, music, whatever).
AI-generated content is NOT permitted.
You can participate however much or as little as you want, no pressure to complete every single day.
You can post your work anywhere on the internet, Tumblr, Ao3, etc.
Tag potential triggers and NSFW accordingly.
If you want to be counted as an official participant and have the chance to be featured on the blog, post your content during the month of April. You can still use the prompt list after April ends.
I can’t guarantee that every single work will be featured but I’ll try to reblog as many as I can.
To increase your chances of being featured here, tag your post with the event name and the prompt of the day that you used (For example: #whumpril2026, #whumprilday1, #beg)
You can also @ the blog, @whumpril.
Questions? Check the FAQ to see if your question has already been answered!
Full write-up of the prompts can be found under the cut!
Whumpril 2026 Prompts:
Beg
Bite
Crash
Dazed
Trigger
Carried
Ambush
Collapse
Tremors
Migraine
Sedation
Wheezing
Weak Link
Separated
First Aid Kit
Side Effects
Sneezing Fit
Proof of Life
Ears Ringing
Seeing Stars
Pained Smile
Recovery Setback
“Keep them calm”
Collateral Damage
Running on Fumes
“Don’t look at me”
Prank Gone Wrong
Sobbing Uncontrollably
“I’m not giving up on you”
“Let me protect you this time”
Alternative Prompts:
If there’s a prompt above you don’t feel inspired or comfortable doing, you can switch it out with one of these alternatives!
If you did thirty prompts in thirty days and want to be featured in the 2026 list of completionists, be sure to fill out this form! I don't want to miss any of you!
If you did thirty prompts in thirty days and want to be featured in the 2026 list of completionists, be sure to fill out this form! I don't want to miss any of you!
As the citizens of Musutafu try to piece their lives back together after the war, the heroes of class 2-A find themselves facing a new threat. A strange virus is sweeping through the city, leaving its victims little more than mindless, violent husks of their former selves.
Meanwhile, Chris Redfield and his team, on the trail of arms dealer Giuseppe Montanari, arrive in Japan just in time to witness the virus outbreak. Now they're stuck in a race against time to find a cure for the virus before Musutafu is overrun, and to stop Montanari before it's too late.
Chapter Twenty-Four: Collateral Damage
While Kaminari battles dark memories that are better left in the past, Todoroki prepares to help contain the infected, risking his own loss of control.
Whether you did one prompt or all of them, thank you so much for participating! It was a lot of fun as always!
The Archive of Our Own collection will remain open until May 3rd for any last minute entries to slip in. And to the completionists who filled all thirty days, be sure to use this Google form to submit your information for the upcoming congratulatory post!
Did all 30 days!! very exciting. I will never be doing whumpril again probably on account of The Finals but I did do it this year and I'm very happy :D. Have some posts, there's too many of them but I had a lot of fun. There are also statistics, which were really fun.
Day 1: Beg Mary & Alex, Herald. 620 words, current draft (1949). Alex confronts Mary about a long kept secret.
Day 2 / Alt 6: Misplaced Blame Ronald, Mary, Alex, & Amelia, Herald. 852 words, old draft / alt. POV. Ronald tells Mary & the girls that Donovan is dead.
Day 3: Crash Amelia, Herald. 433 words, flashback / missing scene. Amelia's husband volunteered as a pilot, and she never saw him again.
Day 4: Dazed Rajani, Sentinel. 546 words, missing scene. How the first member of the lighthouse crew died.
Day 5: Trigger Ronald, Herald. 213 words, old draft. Ronald is reminded of his best friend.
Day 6 / Alt 4: Domino Effect Mary, Herald. 549 words, current draft / missing scene. Mary finds Ronald's coat in the back of her hall closet.
Day 7: Ambush Mary & Ronald, Herald. 606 words, current draft (1949). Ronald runs into a familiar face at Donovan's grave.
Day 8: Collapse Leo & Alex, Herald. 522 words, current draft (1949). On the way to city hall, Alex asks Leo some questions.
Day 9: Tremors Amelia & Alex, Herald. 731 words, current draft (1929). Amelia gives her father's eulogy.
Day 10: Migraine Amelia & balloon guy, Herald. 398 words, current draft (1949). Amelia has some a strange visitor at city hall.
Day 11: Sedation MARTHA, Sentinel. 436 words, missing scene. The stations autopilot wakes up after a long nap.
Day 12: Wheezing Pandora, Enna, Lexi, & Avalon, Sentinel. 453 words, current draft. Pandora & co discuss plans for the Lyall's return, and Pandora asks a favor.
Day 13: "You may want to sit down" Alex, James, & Ruby, Herald. 738 words, missing scene (1956). Shortly after Ronald's death, his baby sister figures out where he's been all these years.
Day 14: Separated James & Leo, Herald. 555 words, flashback / missing scene (1945). James was drafted into WWII, and he came home earlier than he was supposed to.
Day 15: First Aid Kit Pandora & Enna, Sentinel. 178 words, current draft. Enna broke her arm during the Lyall's escape.
Day 16: Side Effects Alex, Herald. 260 words, flashback / missing scene (1929). Alex wakes up one day after her godfather's thirty-eighth birthday.
Day 17 / Alt 7: Blood in the Water Leo & Alex, Herald. 245 words, current draft (1949). When the mayor turns up dead, Leo's one of the prime suspects.
Day 18: Proof of Life Donovan & Ronald, Herald. 599 words, flashback / missing scene (1918). Mary didn't tell Donovan or Ronald about Alex until she was sure they would come home.
Day 19: Ears Ringing Pandora & MARTHA, Sentinel. 203 words, current draft. Pandora sneaks a look at the Lyall's logs.
Day 20: Seeing Stars Pandora & Avalon, Sentinel. 525 words, current draft. Pandora & Avalon have a conversation at the light.
Day 21 / Alt 1: Clingy Donovan, Mary, Ronald, & Amelia, Herald. 713 words, flashback / missing scene (1914). Donovan clears up a misunderstanding.
Day 22: Recovery Setback Alex, Amelia, & Leo, Herald. 853 words, flashback / missing scene (1941). Leo introduces Alex to his new friend from city hall, but it turns out they already know each other.
Day 23 / Alt 14: "They should have been back by now" Ronald & Mary, Herald. 383 words, current draft (1929). When Donovan fails to return from his attempted thievery, Ronald telephones Mary.
Day 24: Collateral Damage Alex, Leo, James, & Amelia, Herald. 405 words, current draft (1949). The day of the mayor's murder, Alex and Amelia head to city hall early, to check things out.
Day 25: Running on Fumes Ronald & Donovan, Herald. 1,193 words, flashback / missing scene (1905). Ronald's oldest brother delivers the news of their father's death, and a few other things.
Day 26: "Don't look at me" Leo, James, & Leo's sisters, Herald. 727 words, missing scene (1941). Leo has three older sisters, and their favorite thing in the whole world is harassing him.
Day 27 / Alt 10: "I'm not made of glass" Donovan, Ronald, & Mary, Herald. 464 words, missing scene (1919). Amelia is Donovan's daughter just the same, but she never scared him half as much as Alex does.
Day 28: Sobbing Uncontrollably Alex, Herald. 260 words, newspaper article (1957). The obituary of Alexandrina Rose Marie Gates.
Day 29: "I'm not giving up on you" Ronald, Ruby, & Alex, Herald. 1,180 words, missing scene / alternate universe (1950s). Ruby comes looking for her brother, and this time she finds him before its too late.
Day 30: "Let me protect you this time" Alex & Amelia, Herald. 410 words, current draft (1949). Someone breaks into Alex's apartment.
Stats below the cut. I have a spreadsheet and I'm very proud of it :D
The character tortured the most this month is... Alex (12 prompts, 19.7%)! With Ronald (9 prompts, 14.8%) a close-ish runner up, and Mary & Amelia (7 prompts, 11.5% each) tied for third.
By average word count, though, Ronald is the winner for most whumped (avg. 637 words), Alex in second (589 avg. words) and Amelia in a close third (583 avg. words). Avalon technically has an average of 978 words, but ce's only in one and that doesn't count for averages.
I posted a total of 15,786 words this month! Not all of those were written in April, some were things I wrote ages ago and hadn't shared yet. If I had to guess I'd say about 9k-10k was inside of April, and the rest was already done. My largest word count was Day 25 (1,183 words) and my smallest word count was Day 15 (178 words).
My top three favorites prompt fills are:
Day 25, because I love love love the descriptions in it. Vic is living rent free in my head now.
Day 20, because it has so many little references to Voyager 1 & 2. It's the prompt that made me decide to do whumpril honestly (that, and Day 22, proof of life)
Day 4, also for the descriptions. Rajani my beloved I'm so sorry I invented you just to kill you.
Also! whumpril didn't have a taglist but herald & sentinel taglists in case any of y'all want to see them suffer horribly:
As the citizens of Musutafu try to piece their lives back together after the war, the heroes of class 2-A find themselves facing a new threat. A strange virus is sweeping through the city, leaving its victims little more than mindless, violent husks of their former selves.
Meanwhile, Chris Redfield and his team, on the trail of arms dealer Giuseppe Montanari, arrive in Japan just in time to witness the virus outbreak. Now they're stuck in a race against time to find a cure for the virus before Musutafu is overrun, and to stop Montanari before it's too late.
Chapter Twenty-Three: Keep Him Calm
With one kid missing and one kid still suffering from the E-virus, Aizawa has to make a difficult decision.
Whether you did one prompt or all of them, thank you so much for participating! It was a lot of fun as always!
The Archive of Our Own collection will remain open until May 3rd for any last minute entries to slip in. And to the completionists who filled all thirty days, be sure to use this Google form to submit your information for the upcoming congratulatory post!
Whether you did one prompt or all of them, thank you so much for participating! It was a lot of fun as always!
The Archive of Our Own collection will remain open until May 3rd for any last minute entries to slip in. And to the completionists who filled all thirty days, be sure to use this Google form to submit your information for the upcoming congratulatory post!
Alex gets back from her mother’s house, and she wants nothing more than to collapse into bed. She does, with heels half fallen off her feet but not really removed, but when she wakes up four hours later she realizes something is wrong. Alex had left the Belmont article draft on the tiny table that functioned both as kitchen counter, dining room table, and desk. It wasn’t there.
A brisk but thorough search revealed worse: it wasn’t anywhere. And, when she looks at the lock on the door, Alex can see the fresh splinters in the painted wood, and scratches around the metal key plate.
Alex dials the telephone with a shaking hand, messing up and having to cancel twice.
“Hello?” comes her sister’s voice. “Who is this?”
“Amelia?” says Alex, though it comes out frailer than she meant to. “I-I took a nap, when I got home, and I only just woke up, but when I did I found—someone broke in,” she says.
“What?”
“Someone broke in, and they stole the draft for the article I’m writing about the murders. Didn’t take anything else, just that.”
“I’ll be right there,” she says, and a dial tone sounds as the receiver on the other end is returned to its cradle.
Alex spends the next twenty minutes sitting on her bed, staring at the door. She’s trying to remember if it had looked like that when she got home, or if someone—most likely Evelyn Belmont—had come in while she was asleep.
She can’t.
When Amelia opens the door, Alex practically jumps out of her skin.
“Come stay at home tonight,” her big sister says, and Alex agrees. She lets herself be lead out of the door, and she locks it again, for all the good that’ll do. She forgets her coat, but she doesn’t notice until they’re three-quarters of the way to her mother’s house and it seems so silly to go back.
It seems silly to do anything, really, but her sister borrows pajamas from their mother and makes her put them on, and Mary rather aggressively puts several more blankets on her childhood bed. For the first time in almost fifteen years, Alex and Amelia share a room.
It takes Alex hours to fall asleep. She keeps tossing and turning, the same thought repeating in her head. If she tried to kill Leo, then what’ll she do to me?
prompt is "i'm not giving up on you"! I could write so much more of this. I will at some point probably but I need to stop or else i'll never finish :(
word count: 1180
tw/cw: mentioned death, mentioned war, mentioned illness
context: Ronald was the second oldest of 6. He has not seen his siblings since his father died in 1910, but that doesn't mean one of them hasn't been looking. Shortly after Ronald's death, his baby sister finds out where he's been all these years. Version of my day 13 / alt 11 prompt where Ronald is alive!
--
“Ronald Wilkes?” He looks up. There's a woman standing to the side of his desk. Her voice is shaking. Around his age, maybe younger. Hair a mosaic of brown and gray.
People came, sometimes, to see James or Alex, mostly to complain. But any complaints for the sports editor were generally in writing, and more about the sports than his coverage of them. He had quit replying to most of them fourteen years ago, but he still read every one.
“Yes?” he asks, sparing her a single glance before returning to his notes and papers. It was the world series week, and the game would be soon—time to sit by the radio in the hallway and frantically scribble, then rush to type it all up before the printers deadline at 8 o’clock. The cord didn’t reach nearly far enough, but it was too loud in the newsroom to hear anything, so he had to sit at the landing and pray no one tripped down the stairs.
A brief pause. “Helen and Frederick Wilkes son?”
Ronald’s head shoots up, and the rest of his body follows. A sharp pain arcs through his shoulder at the movement, and he has to sit down again, swearing softly. Ronald tries for nonchalant, but lands somewhere around scared instead. Helen and Frederick Wilkes son.
How long had it been since he heard that? Decades? It felt like centuries. “What did you say your name was?”
“Ruby Helena Wilkes.”
The pen in his hand clatters to the ground.
How long had it been?
1905. No—that was Vic. December, 1904. Maybe January. Christmas—or was it 1903? He couldn’t remember. Was mother there? No, that didn’t narrow it—she had died in June, wracked with chills even as the summer sunshine poured through the oft-drawn curtains.
Fifty years, give or take. He thought he would never see them again. He thought it would stay that way. Except. Except there’s a woman standing in front of him, one hand covering her mouth and the other reaching out, fingers splayed, on his desk; towards his arm.
“Ronald…” she whispers, and all he can think is why here. Why now. In the middle of the Herald—where else?—, half a century after he had last seen her—because I ran away.
He wishes Donovan was here. He might not be able to fix anything, to make anything one ounce better, but he wants Donovan back more than anything, and he wants him back here and now more than he has in years.
“I didn’t…” His hands shake, and he tries to open the drawer. Ronald fumbles the cigarette packet, nearly dropping it four times. “I didn’t think you could remember me.”
“I can,” she whispers. Ronald’s fingers brush his cheek as he brings the cigarette to his mouth, and they come away wet. Fumbles with the matchbox, too, and then suddenly he stands. Another lancing pain—but he ignores it.
“Morgan—you have the first two innings,” he calls to the junior sportswriter, staring curiously at them across their linked desks. “If I’m not back you can have the rest.”
Morgan’s brow furrows, but she shrugs and agrees. “Aye aye, Mr. Wilkes.”
Through the newsroom door—the landing. He can’t stand the staring, and no one’s staring yet but they will soon. Of course they will.
He closes the door behind his sister—my sister…—and takes a long drag on the cigarette. “Why?”
“Everyone else is gone. Only you and Vic.”
Fifty-five years ago, Donovan Gates’ front hallway. It’s only in the light from the doorway that Ronald realizes just how pale Vic is, and how thin. It isn’t just his eyes that are like mom, he realizes. He has TB, too. His call for Vic to wait, to ask if that’s the real reason Grandmother turned him away, dies on his lips.
“Vic…” Ronald sighs. “Vic died, fifty years ago, Ruby. Last time I saw him he had TB, and…” We both know what a sentence that is.
“Ah.” Ruby is quiet for a minute. “Just you, then. Us. The only Wilkes left.”
Ronald’s heart catches in his throat. “What do you mean, the only—”
“Calvin… died, not long after the Depression hit.” Ruby coughs thickly. “Sammy died in the Great War. He was 18. Stephen…” She looks at her shoes. “Stephen caught TB, too. Died in 1912.” She shudders.
The year Amelia—the year his niece was born.
“Oh. I’m—I’m sorry,” Ronald says. He doesn’t know what else to say. He shuffles his feet awkwardly. “Do you. Erm. How long are you in town?”
“A few days, maybe longer. I don’t—I never married, you see.” No one to go back to.
“Ah.”
“What about you?”
Almost. Once. I might as well have been. “No, ah, no. Never married.” No one to go back to.
Silence. Finally, Ronald works up the courage to ask the question burning in the back of his mind. “How did you know I was here?”
Ruby makes a noise, but he doesn’t know what to call it. Not a sob, not a cry, not a laugh or a gasp or anything else in particular. “When I went home, back to the city, I heard the stories. ‘Ronald Wilkes and Donovan Gates ran off West, and no-one ever saw them again.’” She sends a sidelong glance at Ronald. “How is he?”
How is—oh, I wish. I wish. “He, erm.” Ronald coughs, and looks at his scuffed shoes. “Donovan—” Another cough. Don’t make me say it. Please—. “Donny died. In 1929. Murdered.” Half his cigarette is gone now, burning away faster than ever.
“Oh, that’s awful—I’m so sorry.” She does seem, remarkably, genuinely sorry.
Silence. Silence for so long that Ronald starts taking the next cigarette out of his pocket, ready to light it from the stub of the old, and then someone opens the door.
“Ronald!” Alex. Alexandrina McLelland. Alexandrina McLelland, the spitting image of her father, so similar that even Ruby with a memory worse than swiss cheese could place her—
“Oh, sorry, are you busy?”
He can’t speak. Something is caught in his throat, and Ronald coughs once to try and clear it. Then he descends into a coughing fit, and he can hardly hear over the noise—
Alex stares at Ruby. As soon as Ronald stops coughing—and crumbles out the butt of his first cigarette in the ashtray, though not before using it to light his second—she whirls to face him. “I thought all your family was dead.”
So did I. “Ms. Ruby Wilkes, please meet Miss Alexandrina McLelland, investigative reporter. Alexandrina, this is Ruby. My little sister.”
“Your… I thought—” Alex shakes her head. “I thought…” she repeats again, and trails off. She studies Ruby for a moment, arms crossed and considering, head tilted like a confused duck. Ruby looks at her, and then at Ronald, and then to Alex again, finally holding her gaze.
Alex drops her arms and straightens her head. “She looks like Amelia.”
Whether you did one prompt or all of them, thank you so much for participating! It was a lot of fun as always!
The Archive of Our Own collection will remain open until May 3rd for any last minute entries to slip in. And to the completionists who filled all thirty days, be sure to use this Google form to submit your information for the upcoming congratulatory post!
