June Of Doom Day 19

June of Doom Day 19

"I'm not going anywhere"

| Wound Cleaning | Guilt | Chair |

Cw: The tags above, planning murder, implied betrayal and abuse.

I'm gonna do a continuation of Day 13 cause yall liked that as much as I did. No need to read that one though.

...

Sidekick was slumped in the chair in Villain's lair, conscious but weak, as Henchman stitched them up.

"I should never have trusted them," they cursed out Hero, Henchman listening with clenched fists as they rinsed out the cloth and used it to wipe away the blood staining Sidekick's torso.

"I'll kill them. I'll kill them for this."

"Hey, it's not your fault," Sidekick assured them. Henchman dropped the cloth into the bowl of water woth a splash.

"It is. I never should have left you with them."

"It doesn't matter, you can't change it. Just don't leave me now."

"I'm not going anywhere."

"Good," Sidekick smiled weakly and Henchman picked up the cloth again, wiping away the blood and grime that coated Sidekick's arm.

"They're right, Henchman," Villain interjected, standing at the doorway to the room, leaning against the frame. Henchman hadn't heard them enter. "It's my fault. I never should have let Hero go this far. They're my enemy."

"What are you going to do?"

"That's up to Sidekick, actually."

Sidekick raised their head in surprise.

"I'm going to go after Hero, and I'm going to beat them to a bloody pulp. Do you want me to drag them back here for you to take a turn? Or can I kill them where they stand?"

Sidekick thought for a moment, before looking up at Villain with a sneer.

"Kill them, I don't ever want to see their face again."

Villain smiled. "Good."

Whumptober Day 1

Technically its gonna be past midnight when I post this but I only decided to do this like 15 mins ago so Imma still count it yall. Also loving the prompts today this is such a comeback.

Morning Coffee

Drugging / Sick / Poison

Sidekick tried their best to stay awake as they stood waiting for their coffee. They were wrecked, having spent the last three weeks working non-stop trying to track down Villain after they broke out of prison. Even despite their exhaustion, they knew Hero had it worse, at least Sidekick was stuck on desk duty as Hero raced all over the city putting out fires both literal and metaphorical.

Sidekick yawned as they took the americano from the barista, just nodding a thanks, before turning to the little stand to pour in sugar. They hated coffee, but something needed to drown out the taste of the triple espresso shot. They permitted themself a few minutes to sit in the little cafe and drink their drink before they returned, needing just a minute out of their office.

They were totally out of it, scrolling through their phone as they drank the cup dry, leaving it on the table after only a minute and grabbing their things to leave. It was only as they were rounding the corner at the end of the street that they realised the caffeine didn't seem to be waking them up, that they seemed to be getting more tired as they walked. The weariness spread from the shoulders and neck down to their legs, and they soon found themselves leaning against the wall for support before sliding to the ground, only realising something was wrong when they were too weak to fish their phone out of their pocket and call someone.

They tried to pick themselves up, using the wall to support themself, but they were only halfway upright when a wave of nausea made them lose their balance, and the only reason their head didn't hit the ground was that strong arms wrapped around their middle, holding them up.

"Shit," they murmured, their eyes meeting Villain's right as they lost consciousness and everything went dark.

...

Hero only noticed something was wrong when they hit the fifteen-hour mark. Sidekick had dropped off communication, but Hero had just assumed they'd finally gone to bed to get some much-needed rest. But at the fifteen-hour mark, a message popped up on their screen from Sidekick, and they clicked into it absent-mindedly, expecting more intel, but instead there was a picture of Sidekick, lying on their side on a concrete floor, looking pale and sweaty and in pain, their wrists chained to the wall, and a little message underneath:

You want to know where they are and how to cure them? You for them, come alone, eight pm, you know where :)

Love Villain

Hero scowled at the message, but then deleted it, erasing Sidekick's contact and all their correspondence. They didn't have time to deal with failures.

A solution

“Well, well, well. If it isn’t my favourite nemesis.” Villain smirks, turning on the balls of their feet. “To what do I owe the honour?”

Hero shakes their head, leaning against the door frame. “To yourself, obviously. What’s up with the hypnotized mayor?”

“Hm? How would I know?” Villain shrugs nonchalantly, struggling to keep their hands straight at their sides. “You always assume it’s me that’s wreaking havoc. Why is that?”

“Oh, I don’t know.” They take a step towards Villain, their smile making the hair on the back of Villain’s neck stand. “Maybe ‘cause it always is. Not to mention you’re the master of mind control here.”

“I can’t believe our Hero turned out to be so biased!” Villain exclaims, bringing their hands to their heart, ever so dramatic. “What about the presumption of innocence?”

Hero huffs, shaking their head yet again. “I stopped presuming you innocent after our fifteenth encounter in one week.”

“Huh. That was my best week.” Villain smiles fondly at the memories. “I was challenging myself, you see? To avoid the mundane.”

“Of course.” Hero shakes their head but can’t help a smirk that finds its way onto their face. “Who would think criminal life could be so boring.”

“It’s not boring!” Their voice is too high to be comfortable. Villain coughs, turning away. “And I’m not a criminal.”

Hero nods, watching the back of Villain’s head for a moment as their nemesis drinks water, swallowing a whole ice cube in the process. They gulp, watching it go down their throat when Villain turns to face them again.

“Come to think of it, I haven’t done anything with the mayor yet… how did you figure it out?” That would be a valid question if only Hero didn’t know both Villain and the mayor so well.

“That’s exactly how. The asshole can’t live a day without causing major problems.” They say matter-of-factly. Villain presses their fingers to their temples. Hero suspects it’s an attempt to hide the blush creeping up their neck. “Figures it’s you.”

Villain hums in agitated agreement. They aren’t quite sure if they are annoyed or excited. Most likely both. “What is your mission then?”  

“You.” Villain’s eyebrows rise, challenging every last boundary of their enemy’s restraint. “You are my mission.” With that, Hero pulls them forward, planting a starved kiss on their mouth once they open it in a gasp. Villain all but melts in their arms, not even registering how they end up sitting on a table.

“Told ya I’d deal with him,” is all they manage to squeeze out when Hero lets go of their mouth, dragging their lips to the side. Villain moves to meet them again.  

“Mhm.” Hero keeps kissing along their jaw, prompting Villain to tilt their head for better access. They break away to take in the starstruck expression on Villain’s face with the most smug grin ever. “How long can you keep him that way?”

“You name it.” Villain can feel Hero’s smile against their throat. They shift, leaning back and searching for some support in the back but the wall is too far.  

“Forever?” Hero thinks out loud, the word escaping against their better judgement. Their brain is preoccupied with Villain’s sensitive skin under their tongue. That is, until Villain stiffens and they regret bringing up the subject. They could have discussed this the next morning. At this point, Hero couldn’t care less about the mayor. They knew the city was safe as long as the man was under control.

“You want me to keep the mayor under my control forever?” Villain shuffles away from them and Hero wants to disintegrate into thin air. They opt to avoid eye contact, but Villain grabs the sides of their face, ever so gentle as they guide their eyes to meet. “Do you?”

“Does it exhaust you?” They ask in a small voice. Villain shakes their head no. They know for a fact that wasn’t their first concern. Is that too much to ask? or Would you do that for me? was what Hero dared not ask. Villain smiles softly, caressing Hero’s cheeks with their thumbs as they watch their shoulders relax. Hero lets out a relieved sigh, pulling Villain back into their embrace with a quiet growl. “Then yes. You could make him think he’s a potato for all I care, as long as he’s no longer running rampant in the city.”

“Anything for you, love.” Villain’s voice is barely a whisper against Hero’s lips. They feel a hand wrapping around their waist and the other running fingers through their hair to tilt their head to the side. Hero leaves a rough kiss on their throat, where they watched the ice cube going down. Villain gasps, their gaze dazed as they stare into Hero’s eyes. “Anything.”

Ayo I'm curious what yall like in the tumblr whump community

theres no bald option cause you gotta answer or ignore🔫

I'm just curious cause I wanna get back into the whump community and I'm curious what ppl prefer. I kinda wanna post my oc story but idk if ppl like reading multi-part oc stuff

June of Doom Day 26

"I made a mistake."

| Ambulance | Hopelessness | Numb |

Cw: The tags above. Implied kidnapping, arguing. Threats

a lil late but exams are officially done now so I might actually get a proper post schedule and set up my blog proper. Have some nice Whumper whump.

...

Whumper paced up and down the room, nervously biting their nails.

"I made a mistake."

"It'll be okay-"

"No!" Whumper was almost yelling. "It won't be okay. Whumpee is gone and now I'll never get them back. And now I stuck with this fake."

They gestured at Civilian, tied up on the ground, their arms numb from being pulled so tight behind them, one eye swollen shut and the other pressed into the ground.

Other Whumper placed a hand on Whumper's restless shoulder. "It'll be okay. We'll find Whumpee and bring him back here and everything will be back to normal. My people are already out searching. Right now we have to deal with them." They nodded at the limp form on the ground.

"What do we do?" Whumper asked.

"We can deal with them ourselves, or dump them at a hospital."

Whumper thought for only a moment. "Dump them at a hospital. I don't want anymore hassle. I'm waiting for Whumpee."

Other Whumper gave a brief nod, then grabbed the zip tie holding Civilian's legs together and began to drag them away.

"Oh, and Whumper?"

Whumper looked up at them. "What?"

"Next time you fuck up this bad, it won't be Whumpee that ends up dragged into my cells."

Whumper didn't respond, and Other Whumper didn't so much as acknowledge them again as they dragged the struggling person along the rough concrete towards the door.

Good shit

Employee of the Month

Not sure what this is or what the point of it is. Just take the whump. No editing because no

Cw: torture, murder, graphic depictions of death/killing, interrogation, restraints, a lot of violence, mentioned non-con nudity (non-sexual), implied mass murder/killing, reluctant Whumper

Henchman reeled back as a fist slammed into the side of their jaw, snapping their head to the side and causing them to sway in their restraints.

By now, they had lost any hope of standing, left to hang by the thick metal shackles around their wrists that held their arms up, the cuffs biting into their skin hard enough to leave ugly bruised indents that wept droplets of crimson down their forearms.

They could barely keep their legs beneath them, much less try to bare weight on them. From the awkwardness of the height they were restrained at, they would only be able to stand really if they stood on the tips of their toes, which left them scuffling around, the muscles up their calves cramping as they tried to keep from rocking back and forth.

Blood dripped from a wound on their temple, leaking into their sight and tinting their vision with a stinging red that they quickly tried to blink away. Tears clung thick to their eyelashes and their cheeks, mingling with the blood smeared across their face from their broken nose and turning it to a watery pink that ran down to their neck and chest.

Breathing was becoming increasingly difficult as they let their head fall forwards, hoping that the motion would deter some of the blood from trickling down the back of their throat and suffocating them. Their lips were parted, each breath coming in as a wheeze. It felt like their lungs were full of something, thicker than water and warmer than it should feel. Each inhale was work, the breath scraping against their windpipe all the way to their lungs.

Breathing out was a bit easier, with each exhale a bit of red tinted saliva dribbled from their lips, the bottom which was split so badly by the right corner that they couldn’t close their mouth fully. It had been ripped open by their own teeth, a result of one of the first punches thrown against them, whatever plating beneath the Hero’s gloves turning what would be a bruise into a mauling of blood and fractured bones.

“Tell me,” Hero growled out, grabbing Henchman’s jaw with the same hand that had just struck them, wrenching their head towards them. Henchman could feel their heavy breath against their face, they hadn’t been pulling any punches. Somewhere distant in Henchman’s mind, they envied how Hero could draw in so much air with such ease, so little effort, while they were left to gasp and try to get the oxygen they so desperately needed around what felt like their collapsing windpipe.

Henchman had broken ribs before—it was almost guaranteed in their field, after all. It sucked, which was an understatement. It was miserable, but bearable.

This, this was beginning to border on unbearable. The pain was worse than anything they had ever felt, sharp piercings of pain drilling through their chest and spreading out through their torso. The pressure was awful, building and building against their lungs until everything lapsed into a blur of pain.

“Tell me what villain is planning.” Hero repeated, their voice sharper as their nails dug into Henchman’s face, scraping the skin when they ripped their hand away in frustration when they received no answer, letting Henchman’s head fall again before quickly slamming a knee into their gut.

“I don’t care how long it takes, this will go on until you fucking talk.”

And it went. On and on, but Henchman had already lost all track of time—consciousness was only a muddled depth of agony and exhaustion. It was a miracle, or a curse, that they hadn’t passed out, but through the haze Henchman was able to piece together enough thought to maybe come up with some sort of explanation. They hadn’t really noticed it, lost between the burn of the stun gun Hero had used and the sting of the fresh lashes across their back, but at some point they were sure they had been drugged. A small prick along the side of their neck, followed by a rush of awareness that hadn’t lasted long.

It was hours. Felt like days. There wasn’t a patch of skin anywhere on their body that wasn’t marred by some bruise or cut. At some point, Hero had tapped out, but they had been quickly replaced by some lower grade Agency member.

That was some sort of relief. While Hero’s aggression had been fueled by genuine hatred towards Villain and anyone associated with them such as Henchman was, Associate had no connection with them. Really, they seemed almost reluctant to take part. There was no emotion behind their actions, and every so often they would even pause for a moment to take a break, but some part of Henchman wished to think they were doing it to allow Henchman a moment to rest.

At one point, even, someone had lifted their head up, though Henchman wasn’t sure who. Their eyes had been so swollen with bruises, vision impaired with tears and blood, they couldn’t see much of anything. The touch hadn’t been rough, dare they say gentle even, carefully parting their lips to trickle a bit of water from a bottle down their throat.

“…Hero, we need to stop, they can’t-”

“I don’t care. You are not stopping until they talk.”

“But- Hero, I don’t think they’d be able to speak now anymore-”

“Keep. Going. That is an order, Associate.”

And so it kept. A bucket of cold water dumped over their body, exposed as all their clothes had been cut to shreds on the floor, showing where there was still space to inflict more pain. They weren’t cold for long, as Associate began to hold a lighter to the existing gashes.

…

“Hero, I don’t know what to do anymore. They’re not going to talk. They can’t. You need to cut them down, let them rest a bit-”

“You are in no position to be telling me what to do,” Hero snapped. “Get the hell back in there before you tor their fucking pl-”

The door flew inwards with a sharp kick, bouncing off the wall of the little conference room outside the interrogation chamber. A loud bang split the air, quickly followed by another, and both Hero and Associate were dead before their bodies fell, brain matter splattering across the one-way glass behind them that viewed in on the interrogation chamber.

Villain stepped forwards, a flicker of rage cutting across their indifferent composure as they saw past the gore.

They had a limited number of bullets, but to hell with that, they pulled back the hammer and shot at Hero again, the bullet splitting open their skull and ripping their jaw from them as it passed through the crown of their head.

And damn, if Villain didn’t have Henchman as a priority, they would have shot the bastard again. They would have used all their damn bullets, and then they’d rip Hero’s gun from its holster and shoot until they weren’t even recognizable as human.

They did not deserve the mercy of a quick death that Villain had given them, but it was too late to change that. Villain would come back, they settled, after Henchman was home and healing, and kill every damned person who had ever touched Henchman.

Villain shoved their gun into its holster, quickly stepping over the carnage to the door.

The closer they got to Henchman, the hotter their blood boiled.

They’d kill everyone in the whole fucking agency.

—————————————————

I still only want to hurt Noah. Like seriously, that’s the only thing I want to write rn. Ugh