Hadesstan - Whump And Other Shtuff - Tumblr Blog

June of Doom Day 18

"How long have you been like this?"

| Sleep Deprivation | Fall | Blanket |

Cw: Needle, the tags above, whumper-caretaker

...

Whumper didn't announce their entrance. They just let the creaking of the door scare Whumpee.

They stepped in and observed their captive, huddled against the wall, staring. Their eyes were bloodshot, their hands shaking as they watched Whumper.

"How long have you been like this?" Whumper asked, stepping over to where Whumpee huddled.

Whumpee didn't answer.

Whumper crouched before them. "Have you even slept?"

Whumpee only gave the slightest shake of their head in response.

"Tsk, can't be having that Whumpee. You need to sleep. I need you nice and rested for when I torture you."

Whumpee didn't move, didn't make a sound.

Whumper sighed, rose, turned, and left the room. Whumpee watched them go.

They returned not moments later hefting a blanket. They crouched by Whumpee again and pulled them off the wall, slotting the blanket in behind them and wrapping it around them.

"You're going to sleep now, Whumpee."

They pulled a syringe from their pocket and Whumpee's eyes widened, they suddenly began to struggle, tried to stand, but they were too weak, and they just fell straight into Whumper.

Whumper lowered them back down to the floor, using the blanket to hold their arms in.

"Don't worry Whumpee, I won't do anything to you until you wake up. It's no fun unless you scream," they whispered as they pressed the needle into Whumpee's neck and pressed in the sedative.

Whumpee tried to fight it, but they were already so tired, and soon they fell into a dreamless sleep, and Whumper rested them against the wall.

June of Doom Day 17

"Don't lie to me"

| Accident | Doubt | Gaslighting |

Cw: Mentions of car accident, manipulation, gaslighting.

Short ik but i am stressed so i apologise

...

Whumpee huddled in the corner of their room and chewed their nails, desperately trying to remember exactly what had happened.

They were sure they'd driven into the tree trunk by mistake. There was a squirrel in the road and they swerved.

But Whumper was saying differently. They said Whumpee was trying to kill them. They said Whumpee did it on purpose.

And Whumpee wasn't even sure what to think anymore.

They remembered the squirrel. They remembered swerving. But Whumper had been so convincing.

They rocked back and forth, brow furrowed as they thought, until they heard the tell tale sounds of Whumper coming down the steps.

They froze.

"Now Whumpee, are you going to admit what you did?"

"I don't- I don't know!"

Whumper tsked and strolled over to where Whumpee huddled on the floor.

"Don't lie to me," they hissed, and Whumpee flinched away.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Whumper began to chant, almost instinctually.

"You will be."

June of Doom Day 16

"At least it can't get any worse"

| Stairs | Concussion | Hammer |

Cw: Escape attempt, prompts above, and bone breaking.

...

Whumpee sat on a chair in the sparklingly white room, groggy and confused, their hands and feet tied down.

They couldn't see properly, their vision was blurred and the light was way too bright. But they could make out the shape of Whumper when they entered.

They circled Whumpee a few times, not saying a word.

They finally stopped in front of them, tilting their chin up to look at them. Whumpee blinked, trying to clear their vision.

"What did you think you would achieve by running?"

Whumpee couldn't answer. Whumper dropped their chin and began to circle them.

"Did you think it couldn't get any worse? Did you think you actually had a chance? All you succeeded in doing was falling down some stairs, concussing yourself, and making me angry."

Whumpee whimpered, unable to form a complete sentence.

Whumper leaned in close. "You were wrong Whumpee, it can get worse. And because I can't touch that pretty little head of yours until it's healed, I'll have to punish you some other way."

"No," Whumpee managed, but Whumper ignored them and drew a hammer from the table against the wall.

"I hope I won't ever have to say it again, Whumpee. You are never getting away from me."

With that, Whumper drew up the hammer and brought it down on Whumpee's hand as hard as they could, and Whumpee screamed.

June of Doom Day 15

"Please"

| Blindfold | Pressure Points | Scream |

Cw: Torture, The prompts above

...

Whumpee was terrified to the point of shaking. They tugged uselessly at their bonds as they heard the footsteps of Whumper circling them. They were blindfolded, unable to see a thing, and tied down to a table so they couldn't interfere.

"Whumpee, have you ever heard of pressure points?" Whumper asked, running their finger down Whumpee's arm.

Whumpee didn't answer. The next thing they knew, there was a sharp slice across their arm and they screamed.

"I asked you a question Whumpee."

They whimpered, then shook their head.

"They're these points on the body connected to nerves." Whumper's hand resumed its path, running gently down their side. "They can be used to release stress, or pain. But some..." Whumper's hand stopped on Whumpee's throat.

"Please," Whumpee whimpered, but they weren't even sure what they were asking for. Whumper didn't acknowledge it.

They leaned in close, so their breath ghosted Whumpee's ear. "Some cause pain."

They pushed down on the point on their Adam's apple, and Whumpee screamed.

June of Doom Day 14

"What were you thinking?"

| Slurred Speech | Impalement | Fight |

Cw: The prompts above

Yall this is so tragic its after midnight and i haven't posted. But i haven't slept either so it still counts as the 14th in my mind.

...

"What were you thinking?" Villain cried, holding Hero by the shoulders as they slumped around the pipe through their midsection.

"Had to-," Hero's speech was slurred. "Had to fight."

"No, no you didn't," Villain hissed, and placed their hand on the metal rod. "This is going to hurt."

"Wait-" Hero tried, but Villain didn't listen as they yanked the pole out. It fell to the ground with a clatter as Hero hissed in pain. Villain caught them as they fell, placong pressure on the wound.

"Time to get you to a hospital."

Hero was muttering, but Villain couldn't make out what they were saying, their speech was so slurred, so they just picked up Hero, bridal style, and set off towards their car, ready to bring Hero to hospital, and leaving the bloody aftermath of the fight on the ground in the alley behind them.

June of Doom Day 13

"Say something"

| Rescue | Broken Promise | Weak |

Cw: The tags above, implied beating, betrayal

Sorry for formatting I'm writing on mobile. I'm also close to death with this cold so i apologise for the state of this.

...

Sidekick lay, broken and bloodied, in the middle of the street.

Villain had spotted them, about ten minutes ago, and battled off Other Villain, and Henchman had arrived soon after. They crouched next to Sidekick, rolling them onto their back to reveal the myriad of bruises.

"Who did this," Henchman growled.

"Other Villain," Villain told them, looking down at Sidekick in pity. "From what I've heard, Hero sold them out."

Sidekick groaned, their eyes fluttering as they fought to stay awake.

"Sidekick? Sidekick it's me, Henchman."

"They promised," they muttered, "they promised they wouldn't."

"Sidekick, what are you talking about? Come on we have to get you out of here."

Henchman, with some help from Villain, hoisted Sidekick to their feet, arm around them, holding them up.

"Hero promised," there were tears in their eyes, "they promised they wouldn't sell me out."

Henchman's grip turned tighter in anger as they led Sidekick away, towards their car.

"Hero will pay, Sidekick, I promise."

Sidekick just slumped against them and Villain helped carry them to the car and buckle them into the back seat.

"Hero will pay," Henchman repeated, and Villain nodded.

"This went too far."

June of Doom Day 12

"It's no use"

| Explosion | Fainting | Trembling |

Cw: Creepy Whumper, fear, the above prompts.

First block of exams are nearly over so hopefully I can post at more reasonable hours soon. However, my friend has given me her illness so this is entirely dependent on my living through this cold. Anyway, enjoy the whump!

...

The explosion rocked the building so hard that pieces of rubble cam falling down from the ceiling. Whumpee huddled against the wall of the basement, trembling in fear and hugging their knees, desperate to hide.

Whumper was here for them, they knew. They were coming to take them away again. Whumpee could do nothing but hope and pray that they wouldn't be found.

But those hopes were shattered when the door swung open with a bang and Whumper's sing-song voice came drifting towards them. "Oh Whumpee," they called. "Come out, come out wherever you are."

Their tone promised violence, and it was all Whumpee could do to keep from whimpering. They were hidden behind an old cabinet, and Whumper had yet to spot them.

"It's no use hiding from me Whumpee. I'll find you eventually. And then we can have such fun together."

Whumpee heard the tell-tale sign of a knife running across the wall. The scrape was loud, close by, and Whumpee couldn't stop himself from shivering so hard it rattled the furniture in front of them.

The cabinet fell with a crash as Whumpee looked up to face Whumper, who hefted their machete a smiled.

"Oh, Whumpee," they crooned. "You look terrible."

As they reached for Whumpee though, the fear became too much, and darkness clouded their vision as Whumper grasped their wrist.

June of Doom Day 11

"We're out of time"

| Firearm | Backseat | Self-Defence |

Cw: the prompts above, beating

...

Villain slammed his foot on the gas and the car shot out onto the road. They served and narrowly missed a few lamppost and pedestrians before making it onto the narrow road and taking off. They could hear the revving of the engines behind them as Superhero followed.

They cursed and swerved around onto a side street as the bullet began raining down onto them.

Hero groaned in the backseat. "Keep your head down," Villain ordered, ducking themself as a fresh wave of bullets came shattering the back window.

They didn't look up in time to properly avoid the car parked in front of them, and Villain swerved dangerously, the car careening into a wall.

The airbags deployed and all Villain could hear in those moments was ringing. They were vaguely aware of hands grabbing them, yanking them from their seat, and they only came to when the cold barrel of a gun was pressed to their head.

"You'll die for this, Villain," Superhero sneered, but before he could pull the trigger, Villain batted the gun away. They were on their feet in seconds, swaying slightly as they vision blurred, but they managed to block Superhero's first punch.

But not their second.

Villain hit the ground with a loud thud, and they didn't even manage to roll over before a kick was landed on their stomach.

Villain coughed blood, cursing, but Superhero just laughed.

They leaned down for another blow but were cut off by Sidekick.

"Superhero. We're out of time," they said hurriedly, gesturing to where a small crowd of civilians was gathering.

"Take them away. Lock them up somewhere nice and cozy until I find some time to deal with them."

Villain could only groan as they were hauled up and thrown in the backseat of a car, just watching as a half-conscious Hero was carried away by Superhero.

June of Doom Day 10

"Can you hear me?"

| Starvation | Shackle | Hiding |

Cw: Mentions of torture, the prompts above.

...

"Villain, you better come out now, if I find you first you'll wish you'd never been born."

Superhero staked through the corridor of the prison. Villain had managed to escape their cell, Superhero still wasn't sure how, and now they were hiding.

"Can you hear me, Villain? Don't make this harder than it has to be."

Villain crouched behind a steel drum. They tried not to make a sound but their breathing was heavy and their heart was beating too loudly. They hadn't eaten in days and even just running from their cell down the corridor to where they hid had taken it out of them.

They clamped a hand over their mouth as they heard Superhero draw closer.

"Come on out, I'm losing my patience."

Villain squeezed their eyes shut, holding their breath as they heard Superhero stop right in front of the barrel they hid behind.

There was silence for a moment, but then the barrel was thrown to the side and Villain's eyes shot open in fear as they beheld Superhero glaring down at them.

"Found you."

Villain tried to back away but they were cornered, and they could only yelp as Superhero grabbed their arm and yanked them up, beginning to drag them back to their cell.

"You're here because you're a bad person, Villain. You need to be punished. We're trying to help you, can't you see?"

Villain begged and pleaded as they tripped over themselves trying to keep up with Superhero, but Superhero paid no heed and soon they were thrown onto the cold ground of their cell.

"This ought to stop you running away again," Superhero muttered as they clamped a shackle attached to the wall around their ankle.

"Now, I promised to beat you earlier, didn't I?"

June of Doom Day 9

"I should have listened to you"

| Sprain | Defiant | Smoke |

Cw: threats, aggravating injury, creepy whumper

I had fun with this one cause the tags were so random, and who doesn't love a defiant whumpee?

...

Whumpee lay on the ground, clutching their sprained ankle, and tried to drag themself away from Whumper.

Whumper continued to advance though, and Whumpee was nowhere near fast enough to escape them. Whumpee coughed, feeling the smoke begin to claw its way into their lungs. The fire was getting closer. The heat was beginning to scorch the air and the smoke was thickening with each passing second as Whumper drew closer. The smoke didn't seem to affect them in the slightest.

Whumper crouched before them and grabbed their ankle, yanking them towards them. Whumpee yelped in pain.

"You thought you could get away? Aw Whumpee, did you really think you could escape me?"

Whumpee tried to scramble away but Whumper's grip on their ankle was solid.

"I told you I'd burn down this house if you ever returned, but you never listen. I'll tell you what, if you beg me to take you back, it you admit you should have listened to me, I'll help you back home and fix up this ankle of yours. And if you don't..." Whumper twisted their swollen ankle, eliciting a cry of pain from Whumpee, who began to curse them out.

"I'll never beg you, psychopath!"

Whumper chuckled. "Aw, it's cute that you think that. I'll have you begging soon enough." And with that, they yanked Whumpee even closer and readjusted their grip, standing and beginning to drag Whumpee by their injured foot, right towards the flames.

Whumpee squirmed and kicked but Whumper was too strong, and they could do nothing but scream as they were dragged over the burning furniture.

June of Doom Day 8

"Breathe, damn you!"

| Shock | Amputation | Infection |

Cw: The tags above, tho the amputation part is off-screen.

Cutting close again I know but exams are here and stress is near so I'm just gonna be proud of posting daily. These prompts were rough yall I don't like stuff this dark so I made do with what I could handle. It's short af cause I really don't like this level of gore.

...

Caretaker slumped against the wall, breathing heavily, their eyes watering. They couldn't believe what they'd done.

Whumpee lay unconscious on the medical table in front of them, the stump where their left leg was now cleanly bandaged and covered in a blanket.

The wound had gotten infected. Infected so badly that Whumpee went into shock. They were shaking and half-delirious by the time Caretaker found them. And they passed out just around the time they realised the leg had to go.

Whumper was still out there, somewhere, and as Caretaker stared at the dip in the blanket where Whumpee's leg should be, they resolved that Whumper would feel that pain. It was Whumper who inflicted the wound and let it get infected, so it was Whumper who should pay the price.

Caretaker would have marched out of that room to go find the bastard had Whumpee not begun to stir at that very moment.

"Whumper?" they whimpered, their voice hoarse.

"Whumpee it's me, Caretaker," Caretaker rushed over to them, taking their hand.

Whumpee pulled their hand away, looking like they were going to roll over, off the table, but they fell back unconscious before that could happen.

Caretaker just sighed and rearranged the blankets so Whumpee was unlikely to roll right off the table, then went to make some tea.

June of Doom Day 7

"What's the bad news?"

| Disoriented | Bite | Chainsaw |

Cw: Kidnapping, ambiguity. I didn't use the chainsaw on my whumpee cause I'm not that cruel to poor Sidekick.

Exams have begun so tragically it will be a bit of "post schedule who?" for a while, but I'll do my best to keep posting every day!

...

Sidekick watched through half-lidded eyes as Villain hefted the chainsaw and began hacking at the door. They were groggy and tired, their head pounding, and all they could hear was the beating of their heart and the roar of the chainsaw.

They knew they had to do something. Stop them. Get away. But they could barely form a sentence, let alone get up and run.

"Villain," they managed, "Let me- let me go."

Villain let go of the weapon and dropped it to the floor, not even looking at Sidekick, only at the fresh cuts they'd made in the wooden door that separated the two of them from the outside door. That kept Sidekick inside headquarters.

"None of that now Sidekick, I'm trying to help you."

They stepped back, gauging the distance, before bringing their leg up and kicking the door with all their might. It rattled. They did it again. And again. Until the door crashed to the ground outside.

Sidekick flinched at the noise.

Villain leant down and scooped Sidekick up, carrying them like they were nothing out the door and towards their car. Sidekick was too weak to do anything against them.

Villain managed to swing the car door open and lower Sidekick in without too much hassle, but as they tried to buckle them in, Sidekick did the only thing they could. They bit them.

"Ow, fuck. Did you just bite me? What the fuck, Sidekick?"

Villain pushed them back against the seat, one hand firmly on their chest, the other pulling the seatbelt across and buckling it.

Villain pulled away, cradling their hand. "Don't fucking bite me again, okay?"

They climbed into the driver seat and sped away from headquarters, Sidekick getting more and more groggy until they finally fell unconscious.

...

AN: short ik but I'm trying. I like the ambiguity in this though. Like is villain caretaker or whumper? Who knows. Not me cause all I know is stress. If anyone wants to send asks feel free cause God knows I need the inspiration. I'll set up a proper pinned post for my blog whenever I find my sanity.

June of Doom Day 6

"You're doing great."

| Injection | Nightmare | Duct Tape |

Cw: Implied torture

People liked my Hero/Villain whump so I'm gonna write more of that because that is the good shit and I didn't want to be repetitive before. Also Villain Caretaker>>>>>>Villain Whumper

...

By the time Villain had found Hero, they had already been beaten unconscious and their attacker was long gone. They lay, bruised and bleeding, ducktape binding their hands and feet and covering their mouth.

Villain cursed and scooped them up into their arms, carrying them with ease to their car. Once their limp form was suitably strapped in, Villain tore out of the car park and headed for their lair. They didn't bother removing the duct tape just yet, it would have been a waste of time.

Villain called Henchman on the way, cutting red lights and cursing at crossings.

"Boss?"

"You're going to find out who hurt Hero, and you're going to bring them to me."

"Is everything okay? What happened."

"You're going to find them, do you understand?"

"Uh, yes boss, of course."

The line went dead and Villain swerved to avoid a truck as they sped through another intersection.

When they eventually arrived at their lair, Hero had begun to stir.

Villain unbuckled them from their seat and ripped the tape from their mouth, carrying them into their lair and placing them gently on a couch.

They used a knife to cut the bonds from Hero and laid them out as gently as they could.

Hero began to stir, but Villain quickly realised they weren't waking, they were having a nightmare.

"No, please, no more," Hero begged, and Villain cursed, but let them sleep through it. It's worse to wake them during a nightmare, they knew.

But when Hero kept struggling, and wouldn't calm down, Villain found themself strapping their struggling nemesis to the table they normally used for torture.

"Calm down, I'm trying to help you."

Hero wasn't listening. "No, please, no"

Villain didn't listen and began preparing the supplies to treat Hero's various wounds.

They treated their burns and the slash across their forehead, whispering encouragements as they set Hero's broken leg. Hero had given up fighting, hovering halfway between conscious and unconscious

"You're doing great," they said, and Hero just gritted their teeth against the pain as their leg was splinted.

They bandaged Hero's cut arms, and eventually moved to cut off Hero's shirt, to reveal a myriad of cuts crisscrossing their chest.

Villain glared, trying to reign in their anger, then placed the scissors down on the table, with probably more force than necessary. Hero flinched at the clatter.

"Who did this?"

Hero shook their head.

"Tell me."

Hero looked away as best they could and didn't meet Villain's gaze. Villain just cursed again and set to work on the wounds on their chest.

When they were done, they retrieved an injection of antibiotics from their supplies. Hero tried to struggle away, but they were held tight.

"Calm down. It's just antibiotics, some of you're wounds are already infected."

Hero gulped. "Why are you doing this?"

Villain didn't look at them as they pressed the syringe into Hero's arm and pressed in the plunger.

"No one gets to hurt you but me. Get that?"

Hero nodded hesitantly, and Villain stepped away from him, beginning to clean up the various packages and bloody clothes left around.

Henchman interrupted before Hero could question anymore.

They gave barely a glance to Hero before they turned to Villain, their grin positively feral.

"Found him," they said, and Villain smiled.

June of Doom Day 5

"It's not as bad as it looks."

| Handcuffs | Swelling | Flinch |

Cw: The prompts above and implied torture.

...

Whumpee lay on the cold basement floor, in the middle of the room where Whumper left them, and sobbed. The cuffs cut into their wrists and their stomach throbbed from the bruises that littered it.

They hadn't seen Other Whumpee when they were thrown in, the corners of the room were too dark. And Other Whumpee had been asleep until the sobs of Whumpee woke them.

Once they'd shaken off the remnant of the nightmare, Other Whumpee pulled themselves from the ground to help Whumpee. They approached the shivering form slowly, reaching out to them as though they were a wounded animal.

"Hey," they said softly, their hand touching gently on Whumpee's shoulder. Whumpee flinched away.

"Sorry," Other Whumpee whispered. Whumper didn't like it when they talked. "I just want to help you. Can I look at your wounds?"

Whumpee curled further away from them, their eyes adjusting to the dark to take in the hunched form in front of them. Other Whumpee was bruised and battered, the fingers on their left hand bent at wrong angles, but their eyes were kind, their voice sincere as they spoke to Whumpee.

Whumpee eventually pushed themselves up from the ground awkwardly, and let Other Whumpee come over to inspect the wounds.

There were ugly and dark bruises beginning to form, and Whumpee's leg was swollen and tender.

"It's not as bad as it looks," Other Whumpee reassured as he pressed on a particularly bad bruise and Whumpee whimpered.

"You've no broken bones, no serious internal bleeding, you'll heal just fine."

Whumpee just nodded.

"What's your name?" they managed finally, their voice hoarse from screaming and sobbing.

Other Whumpee just looked away. "It's best if we don't trade names. It's easier for Whumper to use us against each other then."

Whumpee nodded hesitantly.

"Get some rest, I'll explain some more in the morning. There are ways to placate Whumper, ways to keep from getting too hurt. I'll teach you."

"Escape?" Whumpee managed.

Other Whumpee barked a laugh. "There's no escape from here, only survival."

June of Doom Day 4

"Does that hurt?"

| Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation |

CW: mentions of abuse and the tags above obvs

I wrote some caretaking whump this time cause sometimes we need nice things in life. This is also very short and not great cause I'm writing this in a tent at 1am.

...

Whumpee had become so cold they were no longer fully conscious. By the time Caretaker had found them, bloody and bruised in the woods, they were already frozen half to death.

They'd escaped Whumper, but at what cost?

Full of anxiety, Caretaker had settled them in a nest of blankets, placed a cup of hot chocolate between their blue, shaking hands, and set about treating their wounds. They bandaged the cut across Whumpee's head and placed plasters over the small cuts littering their arms and legs. Whumpee hadn't been able to tell them, but they presumed they were from running through the woods.

Whumpee was muttering as Caretaker tried to warm them up.

"Does that hurt?" Caretaker asked, pressing on a particularly harsh bruise above their clavicle.

Whumpee whined. "Please no. No more."

"Whumpee it's me, it's Caretaker."

"Please, I'll be good."

Caretaker did their best to stay calm, to focus on fixing up Whumpee instead of hunting down and killing Whumper. It was difficult, and every injury Caretaker encountered only added to their rage.

"Whumpee, I need you to tell me who it was. Do you know their name?"

Whumpee only moaned, gripping the cup as if it were a lifeline. They hadn't drunk a sip but wouldn't let go of the cup. Caretaker struggled to keep it together as they applied salve to the last of Whumpee's wounds, and managed to pry the cup from their hands to lie them down on the couch.

"Rest Whumpee."

Whumpee whimpered and gripped tighter to Caretaker's sleeve. but Caretaker managed to extricate themself and make it past the door into the kitchen before they broke down on the floor and sobbed.

June of Doom Day 3

"I can handle it"

| Kidnapping | Fracture | Struggle |

Cw: Kidnapping and fracture, torture, murder (not graphic)

I went for Hero-Villain whump this time cause that's the shit. I want to do some villain-caretaker stuff but the prompts didn't really fit. Perhaps tomorrow!

...

Hero had fought their captors from the moment they'd woken. They'd thrashed and punched and tore at the guards who'd restrained them and dragged them towards the warehouse.

The guards were stronger than them though, and they hadn't achieved much by the time they were unceremoniously dumped on the ground in front of Villain.

"Villain," they spat. "I should have known this was you. Couldn't wait for our next fight, huh? Had to snatch me off the street."

Villain shrugged. "I didn't order you brought here Hero, I just came to watch the show."

"What-" Hero was cut off by the chuckle of Supervillain, who was now making their way across the bloodstained concrete floor towards them.

"You think Villain would have organised something like this? That's sweet," they said, crouching down before Hero.

Hero jerked forward, aiming to headbutt Supervillain. They missed. And Supervillain just laughed again, standing.

"No need for that Hero. I'm going to need you to be cooperative. You're going to tell me how to kill Superhero."

Hero spat at him. "I'll never tell you anything, torture me all you want."

"Oh, I will, don't worry. I didn't expect you to give in so easily."

Hero smirked, pushing the last of the rope off their hands. They hadn't tied them very well. "I won't be giving in at all."

They lunged, going for the nearest guard, snatching his blade and holding it to the man's throat.

Villain started, but Supervillain stopped them.

"I can handle it."

Villain nodded and stepped back as Supervillain approached Hero.

"You think I care if you kill him? You're not going to escape that easily Hero."

Before they could even register what had happened, the guard was falling, dead, to the ground, Supervillain's own knife lodged in his eye. Hero jumped back, still holding the blade. But they were still slow from being knocked out, and Supervillain disarmed them with ease, throwing them to the ground.

"Can't be having any more of that nonsense now, Hero. Guess I'll just have to find a more permanent way of restraining you."

And with that, Supervillain brought their foot down on Hero's forearm. The crack was so loud it could be heard over Hero's scream.

Villain turned to leave just as Supervillain crouched to break Hero's other arm.

They climbed into their car to the symphony of screams and sobs coming from within the building.

June of Doom Day 2

"Get in"

| Sobbing | Survivors Guilt | Salve |

Cw: Death, Kidnapping, manhandling

I'm tryna get in all the prompts every time but this one was hard. I'm doing my best though.

...

Whumpee hadn't said a word since Caretaker had fallen dead on the floor before them. Whumper had put a knife through them. It still sat there, wedged in their back, and it was all Whumpee could stare at. They just stared as tears slid down their cheeks.

Whumper had been delighted.

"Don't you see Whumpee? It's just you and me now. They can't take you away from me."

Whumpee had just sobbed.

Whumper had left the room shortly after, leaving Whumpee chained to the wall, just too far away from Caretaker's unmoving form to do anything more than stare and cry. They were a mess now. Snot and tears smeared all over their face. But they couldn't stop crying.

Caretaker was dead.

Whumper returned eventually and ignored Whumpee entirely as they dragged Caretaker's body out to the waiting car and shoved it into the boot.

They returned to Whumpee, crouching down in front of them to unlock the chains.

"Come on," they said, pulling Whumpee gently along by the wrist. Whumpee didn't resist. They followed Whumper out to the waiting car but froze when Whumper tried to nudge them into the back seat.

"Get in."

Whumpee shook their head.

"Get in Whumpee, before I lose my temper."

"No, please." It was barely more than a whisper, but Whumper heard.

"None of that now Whumpee, get in."

"Kill me instead."

"What?"

"Kill me instead, just wake up Caretaker. Please." Whumpee fell to their knees.

"Oh don't be ridiculous, get in the car."

When Whumpee only responded with a sob, Whumper grabbed their arm roughly and shoved them in. They landed on the floor of the car and the air knocked from their lungs.

"I told you to get in. Now be quiet or I'll gag you."

Whumpee just sobbed again, curling into a ball in the foot space.

Whumper got in and drove off. By the time they'd buried Caretaker's body in the woods and returned to their home, Whumpee's wretched sobs had quieted to raspy breaths.

Whumpee didn't object when they were dragged from the car and into the house. They didn't even object when Whumper sat them on the countertop and pulled off their shirt. There was dark bruising forming where they'd hit the floor of the car.

Whumper sighed. "See, this is what happens when you disobey me. Caretaker's gone. There's really no reason for you to be so difficult."

Whumper wiped the tears from their face and carefully applied a salve to the bruising, muttering about how grateful Whumpee should really be, about how happy they were going to be now that Caretaker was gone, but Whumpee didn't answer, they just stared off into space, only seeing that bloody knife handle sticking out of Caretaker's back.

June of Doom Day 1

"You don't want to do that"

| Collapse | Locked Door | Fear |

Cw: Mentions of torture, blood ...

"You don't want to do that"

Whumpee hesitated, their hand just inches away from the knife on the table. They'd managed to escape their bonds, their hands bloody from pulling free from the rope, and still shaky from forcing open the door. But they hadn't reached the knife in time. Whumper was standing behind them. They could do it, grab the knife and use it. They just had to grab the knife. Their legs were too shaky to step away from the wall, but the knife was just there. They reached again, fingertips brushing against the cool metal of the handle. Whumper's voice stopped them again.

"If you pick up that knife I'm going to hurt you in ways that made you wish you were dead."

Whumpee's breathing picked up. They just had to grab the knife. Their fingers wrapped around the hilt. There were tears in their eyes. They just had to swing the knife.

"Let go and come here right now, and I won't punish you for trying to escape. But if you pick up that knife Whumpee," Whumper sighed, "I'm going to have to hurt you again. And I know I love it when you scream. But you don't. So put down the knife Whumpee."

Whumpee had already made up their mind, and swung the knife, pivoting to aim for Whumper's throat. But Whumper was faster and batted the blade away. Whumpee sobbed as their knees buckled, falling to the ground as the last of their strength sapped. The knife landed on the ground, just out of reach. Whumpee sobbed again, curling up as they realised what they'd done.

"Please," they begged, but it was too late. Whumper bent to scoop up the knife, wiping the bloody handle on a handkerchief they'd pulled from their pocket.

"Tsk, you got blood on the wrong side, Whumpee. I guess we'll have to fix that."

Whumpee could do nothing but whimper as Whumper strolled to the door, locked it, and strode back to them.

"Wouldn't want you running away again, would we?" they said, before slashing the knife across Whumpee's chest.

I have found a different prompt list to follow but i swear I'm gonna follow it. Things are coming.

For anybody looking to do more whump in June, some fellow whump fans encouraged me to make a prompt list!

Please feel free to participate with original or fan works of any kind (writing, photos, gifs, mood boards, videos, songs, whatever creative medium your heart desires!). You can do one or all of the prompts on any given day, and if none are to your liking, check out the alternate prompts!

My only rule is that you tag your stuff with proper warnings, plzkthnx.

And don't forget to tag your entries with #juneofdoom so I can reblog them here! Have fun!

[TEXT LIST HERE]

[AO3 COLLECTION]

More Praise Whump cause this is the Good Shit

"I can't- please- I can't-"

"Just relax baby, you can do it."

"I can't, it hurts-"

"I know baby, but you're doing so well, you look so pretty like this. Just a few more."

The girl was strung up, quivering and clammy, her eyes covered by a blindfold, the only fabric on her. Her arms were cuffed to the ceiling, her feet to the floor, and she couldn't do more than hang as the man swung the whip back and it landed across her back, adding to the growing collection of red stripes.

"Please," she whimpered again, "why are you doing this? What did I do wrong?"

She was sobbing so much that the words came out blubbering.

He shushed her again, stepping up to wipe away her tears. "You didn't do anything wrong. You're doing so well."

This just elicited another sob from her. "But why," she managed to get out again.

He continued to wipe away her tears, tenderly, with the back of his hand.

"Because you look so pretty like this. It pleases me to see you like this. Don't you want to please me?"

She didn't answer, just hanging her head as he stepped back to crack the whip once more, and she screamed.

Praise Whump

I'm a sucker for when the whumpee is so desperate for affection they'll put up with anything from the whumper, so I figured for my first post I'd write one of those. I'd appreciate any feedback you can give me :)

...

Whumpee crouched in the corner of the cold, damp cell. The chains around their wrists chafed the raw skin, yet they clutched them tight, like they were the only thing stopping them from fading into the shadows around them.

The door opened with a creak and a shaft of light filtered into the darkness.

Whumpee whimpered, both in relief and in fear, as Whumper strode into the room.

Despite their aching limbs, Whumpee hoisted themselves onto their knees, straightening their back as well as they could with their wounds.

Whumper smiled with approval. "Good," he said, crouching down before Whumpee, who had their eyes glued to the floor in front of them. They warmed at the praise.

"We're going to play a little, Whumpee," he said, lifting Whumpee's chin to face him. "Would you like that?"

Whumpee almost shuddered at the thought. They knew what play meant. It meant that knife. It meant pain. But if they did well, it also meant Whumper's praise. And they really wanted Whumper's praise.

Whumpee nodded, and Whumper smiled. He leaned down and began to unlock the cuffs, careful not to touch Whumpee's skin. He never touched them, not unless he was hurting them.

He was training them, Whumpee knew. And it was working. They were beginning to crave the pain, if only for the comfort of Whumper.

Whumpee stood on shaky legs, following a few steps after Whumper with their head down. When they emerged into the antechamber outside the cell, Whumpee's heart did a little leap. This was where they played. Where they got to touch Whumper, and hear him whisper praise. There were two other doors leading off of the chamber. One heading upstairs. One to the room where Whumpee was punished.

They shuddered at the thought of that room, doing their best not to look at the iron door.

Whumper sat on the chair in the middle of the chamber, watching as Whumpee sank to their knees before him. "You know what to do," he said, and Whumpee nodded. "Yes, Whumper," they said, rising again to gather the supplies from around the room.

They were quick in their work, grabbing the bucket of water and the cloth and placing them beside Whumper. They took the knife last. Long and sharp and sparkling, it had cut every one of the scars into Whumpee's skin. They lifted it with shaking hands and stood before Whumper, offering it to him.

"Good," Whumper told them, taking the knife, "come here."

Whumpee bit their lip to keep from sighing as they sat down on Whumper's lap, their hands quickly knotting themselves into his t-shirt. He was so warm, and Whumpee was so cold.

Whumper didn't give any warning as he began to slide the knife down their shoulder, shallow but still drawing blood. Whumpee whimpered, clutching him tighter. Whumper shushed them, one hand stroking their arm as the other drew the knife down across their spine. He was always careful not to permanently damage Whumpee. He needed them in good condition so he could keep playing with them.

Whumpee sobbed silently as Whumper carved up their back, praising and shushing them with every cut.

"You're doing so good, Whumpee."

"Shhh, you can do it," he would say, as Whumpee clutched onto his soft t-shirt and sobbed into his shoulder.

By the time he was done, Whumpee's back was little more than a mess of blood, but Whumpee almost didn't want it to be over. They wanted to stay in Whumper's lap, and feel his warm chest and soft clothes and hear his gentle praise.

Whumper carefully unknotted Whumpee's hands from his shirt and pushed him gently off. Whumpee whimpered at the loss of contact, but slid off of Whumper's lap and fell into a kneel before him. Whumper smiled. They were being so good.

Whumper stood and walked to the small sink against the wall, placing the knife there, before returning to where Whumpee knelt. He'd have Whumpee clean it later, as always. But first, he had to deal with Whumpee's back.

He needed Whumpee ready and healed for their next session.

He knelt behind them, and, using the cloth and water, washed off the wounds on Whumpee's back. Careful not to touch their skin. Careful that only the rough scratch of the cloth and the bite of the cold water were felt by the silent Whumpee.

When the wounds were clean, Whumper dressed them cleanly, then stepped away from them, and turned towards the room where he punished Whumpee. He strolled inside, shut and locked the door behind him, as he left Whumpee to clean and deal with the bloody mess in the room.

It was a warning. If Whumpee didn't do a good enough job, they would be joining Whumper in that room.

Or if they displeased Whumper by spilling the bucket of bloody water on the floor, like they just had.

"You know you need to be punished for this Whumpee?" Whumper told them as they knelt on the ground, ready to beg. But they knew it was futile, and just nodded.

Villain Rehabilitation

Based loosely on a dream—I have no recollection of writing this

Cw: medical malpractice, institutionalized abuse, mentioned “therapeutic” torture, mentioned drowning/water torture, burns, there’s just a general upset, creepy vibes here, mentioned electrical torture, accidental self inflicted burns (Villain has fire powers.. it makes sense in the piece)

The floor was cold to match the air, villain could feel the chill seeping up from the tiles, through their thin socks. It was freezing in their small room, of course it was. It was always freezing. The thin blankets on their cot did absolutely nothing to protect them from that cold. It didn’t bother them like the way it used to, but on particular bad days it still caused old scars to ache, healed wounds to throb as if new.

It was Thursday. They knew that much. They had no clue what the date was, nor the month. In their little cell, there was no windows, only their bed and a dresser, and a little bathroom through an open doorway. And the camera in the corner, which they did their best to ignore. Their last attempt at escape had lost them the shred of privacy they had left, two of the staff members coming in during the night to remove the curtain that blocked the bathroom from the main space. Whatever. They tried to act as if that didn’t bother them. One of the few luxuries they had left, gone.

They knew it was Thursday, though, because no one had come in. No staff to deliver their meal, no guards to drag them off to another therapy session. They were alone and cold and hungry, which meant only one thing.

It was Thursday, and that meant Hero was coming.

They honestly would have preferred therapy. They would have preferred to be submerged into the depths of the ice cold tub, or the burning hot steam, to scream and thrash as the water seared their skin, leaving welts and burns similar to that flames would cause. But the staff had tried that, dozens of times. Sparks from a lighter, or whatever humane name they chose to give it to cover the fact they were intentionally trying to burn them did not bother Villain the way they would others. Fire didn’t harm Villain unless it was of their own creation.

Those flames were snuffed out the moment they crackled to life.

The so called criminal cast a bitter glance towards the ceiling, the four sprinklers connected to the main water tank, just waiting for the activation button to be pressed. Either from the security office where they knew a guard was watching them now, just waiting for the first flicker of light to turn on the water, or from the outside of their room where any traveling worker could press it if they saw fit through the little glass window on the door.

It was more annoying than anything. With the cold, it would take much more energy for them to produce even a spark, energy they did not have to spare from the nutritional meals they were given. What a load of crap. The sludge served on the tray could barely be considered food, only enough to keep them alive, not doing anything for the hunger.

If there was one thing they had to look forwards to in Thursdays, though, it was lunch. Hero always brought them lunch, from wherever they could spare the time and expenses beforehand. Usually it was fast food, something quick and greasy that would leave Villain sick for a bit afterwards, but other days it was true meals from expensive restaurants, multiple rich courses with drinks and desert to go along. Though Villain usually ended up full before that, their appetite not what it used to be after their strict, forced diet, they could appreciate the thought, and Hero would never comment when they slipped an extra roll or handful of fries into the pocket of their jumper, to stash away in the corner of their room for whenever the next bout of hunger would strike.

That almost made up for the distress the rest of their visits would cause.

As if on a cue, Villain looked up just in time to hear the heavy lock of their door slide out of place. They were backing up even before the guards stepped in, knowing the procedure by heart now.

“Against the wall.”

The room wasn’t small, but it wasn’t very big either. Eight steps across was all it took for the distance between them to be closed. Villain bit the inside of their cheek, more annoyed than anything as they raised their hands, holding them out to either side as the pair of guards stepped forwards, one holding the dreaded pair of gloves, the other with his prod already flicked on, electricity buzzing the end, prepared for any outbursts.

Fire might not have hurt them, but electricity sure did.

They didn’t fight as the first guard grabbed them by the arms. They knew better than that. The scars they held from the first and only time they tried to fight back still stood out starkly against their skin.

When Hero had given them the choice between prison or the Villainous Rehabilitation Center, the choice had seemed obvious. Life bound in chains behind bars, isolated in a cell under constant watch, or a brochure with a lovely castle like campus, smiling faces and gentle therapeutic programs to reteach criminals the way of society and introduce them back into the community, it was obvious which one they were going to pick. They weren’t a criminal, they had at first tried to protest. It had been an accident, a mistake. They hadn’t meant to hurt anyone.

Now they wish they had chosen prison.

The gloves fit snug and warm over their hands, borderline burning as the guard then fastened the familiar cuffs around their wrists. The fabric stretched nearly to their elbows, thick like the ones a person would wear when tending a fire. Villain was sure that’s where the inspiration for the design had come from. In some weird, twisted opposite way, they were designed to rather keep the flames contained. So the only thing they would burn if Villain slipped up was themself.

The marred burns that covered every inch of skin from their forearms down proved that they were effective.

The guard grabbed their arm, and they were walking out of the room. Down the hall, through the compound. Villain knew there was a nicer side to the center, somewhere towards the outside where all of the minor patients were kept. The ones with chances of recovery, one of the doctors had told them as Villain caught a glimpse through a cracked door. They had looked like the ones in the brochure, happy and smiley and hopeful. They did puzzles, and ate at buffets, and watched movies and played piano and went to normal therapy sessions where they talked about their feelings and their pasts and were only there for a few months before they were let out. But anyone who had the misfortune of being deemed “too sick to help”, anyone like them, were all locked away, behind doors that required keycards and cold cells and torture disguised as treatment. Villain knew there were others, they could hear the screams and sobs in the middle of the night if they pressed their ear to the crack in the door, or listened through the vents.

They were brought to a familiar room. The soft lights and cushioned chairs gave it the illusion of safety, of comfort, but Villain knew better. The shackles were connected to a short chain fastened to the table, and Villain was pushed down to sit in one of the chairs.

“Hero will be here shortly.”

Of course they would. It never took them more than five minutes after Villain was brought to arrive. They were sure that was purposeful, Hero was likely just sitting in another room, waiting to be given the go-ahead. There was some procedure, Villain was sure, but they didn’t care enough to risk asking. With nothing to do but count the seconds, Villain shifted in their seat and waited.

True to their history, Hero didn’t take long. The door opened and Villain looked up, a sour taste budding on their tongue.

“Hey.”

They sounded tired. Villain didn’t respond as Hero closed the door behind them. They held a bag in their hand, the smell of freshly cooked food making Villain’s stomach flip as they walked over and set it down on the same table villain was chained to before taking the seat opposite.

They waited, but Hero didn’t make any move to take the food out, so after a moment they leaned back. They would have crossed their arms, but the chains wouldn’t allow that so they settled for crossing their legs instead.

“Villain, the doctors said you have stopped putting effort towards recovery.” Hero’s voice was soft, their hands folding on the table. They didn’t meet Villain’s eyes. “They have suggested a new treatment plan, and after a long consideration, the agency has approved.”

Villain’s entire body went cold when Hero looked up. There were tears in their eyes.

“After today, I am no longer permitted to visit. The sessions will become more frequent and intense. Your rules and schedule will become more strict. Until further notice, all items of luxury or comfort will be revoked.”

Revoked? Villain felt nauseous. They weren’t entirely sure what counted as an item of luxury, but they had a really bad feeling.

“The faculty has issued a formal appeal to request your entry to a clinical trial, which after long thought the committee decided to pass. I’m sorry, Villain. We have all been trying, but you can’t get better unless you try, but since you’re not willing to put in the effort by choice, dire measures must be taken.”

“I… I don’t understand,” Villain murmured after a long moment, their voice coming out a quiet rasp. They didn’t do much talking anymore, only using their voice to scream or beg in sessions. Speaking felt weird, wrong.

“I tried to suggest alternatives, Villain, I did. I couldn’t change their minds.” A single tear rolled down the hero’s cheek, and they quickly scrubbed it away. “I really hope you get better soon. I don’t want you to turn out like the others.”

Not another word was spoken after that. Villain sunk back in their seat. They weren’t sure they wanted to know what that meant.

When it came time for Hero to leave, the food sat still on the table, untouched and cold. They glanced back over their shoulder, but villain didn’t look up.

The door shut behind them without so much as a “Goodbye.”

This is a bit different from like, ur horny jail asks but I'm a sucker for how u write hero whump<33

Could u write smth w like, maybe the Hero had to give information on villain to Supervillain/hero and at first, Villain is absolutely devastated and furious by the betrayal, until they notice how Hero has been quieter or flinching more or some sign of abuse and becomes more worried

Ur local annoying Snow ❄️❄️ :)))

I love it.

Trade In

Villains hand squeezed tighter around the knife, already fuming with rage before the hero even set foot into the dimly lit street to meet them. They were taking in ragged breaths to try and remain calm for the time being, they needed to talk to Hero before they could slit their throat.

Yet, even with their attempt at controlling themselves, Villain knew the facade wouldn’t last long. Their blood was boiling and they had it out for their nemesis.

“How could you.”

Hero took a step towards the villain, not even trying for a pitiful excuse or any shred of remorse for their former partner. The hero was calm and collected—or so it may seem to anyone passing by—but Villain was keen. They were smarter than that. They could see the small tremble that infected the hero and their confidence.

“How could you.”

“Villain-”

“No… No, how dare you.”

The villains tone was harsh enough to make the hero flinch, taking a small, cowardly step back. Their hands were shaking at their sides so they gripped them into fists, but it didn’t hide the wobble in Hero’s tone nor the nervous shuffle of their feet.

Villain hardly thought anything of it. Even if it was quite unlike the hero to seem so truly afraid.

“I trusted you. That information was personal.”

“Villain, please-”

“And what do you do with it? You go and hand it over to your boss, hm? So they can break into my home and ruin years of meticulous work to kill me?”

Villain moved forward swiftly, giving the hero just enough time to scramble backwards. Hero’s tough act dropped completely as they yelped and stumbled over their own feet. Landing with their back against the cement and their head knocked up badly.

“Is that what you wanted? You wanted me dead?” Villain stood over top of the cowering hero, watching the panic flood their eyes at the closeness of their enemy and the blood seeping from the back of their head. Villain tucked their blade back into the holster on their belt; it was so much more fun to play with food before you ate it anyways.

The criminal reached down, grabbing the neckline of Hero’s suit and hoisting them up into the air, watching as they desperately clung to Villains arms. Trying to pry themselves away, but keep the tips of their toes touching the ground as they began to plead.

“Is that what you wanted?” Villain brought Hero closer, their noses practically touching. “Is that what you still want?”

Hero whimpered, blinking back tears as they struggled to breathe through the panic attack and the slight suffocation Villain brought them generously. They were terrified; Villain could see that clearly now.

“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease-”

Something wasn’t right.

“I-I’m sorry- I-I swear… Please, I’m s-so sorry.”

Villain dropped them. The hero—now in hysterics as they landed harshly on the pavement for the second time—clutched their rib cage as they tried to steady their breathing. Wincing at every breath that came in and groaning at every breath that came out, completely forgetting the gash at the back of their head that continued to pulse and ooze.

The criminal and the crime-stopper hadn’t fought in months, in fact, Villain hadn’t seen Hero on the streets or news at all for months. There was no reason for the hero to be holding their chest and not their head, and definitely no reason for them to be in pain with every breath.

Against their better judgement and the anger that still flowed freely in their veins, Villain kneeled down to face their nemesis. Yanking their head free from its tucked in position by Hero’s hair as Villain brought their face to meet their own. Hero’s pleading eyes and blurry vision against Villains angry glare and annoyance.

“P-please, I p-promise I’ll do b-better next time— I-I promise… J-just please n-no more p-prods…” Hero sobbed, shutting their eyes tight to avoid anymore contact with the villain.

“Hero… What? What are you talking about?”

Pieces to the puzzle were slowly starting to connect in Villains brain. With the hero exposed in front of them they could see tons of new scars and fresh bruises that were definitely not there a few months ago.

Hero’s arms lashed out from their stabilizing hold on their chest, grabbing Villains tool belt and pulling out the blade Villain had previously been holding. At first, Villain assumed it would be used against them, but Hero did the complete opposite. Instead, they offered it to the villain, gently pushing it towards them in the palms of their hands.

“P-please… Wha-whatever you want to do to me… Punish m-me… please. A-Anything but the p-prods.”

Horrified, Villain pushed the knife quickly out of Hero’s hands and cast it off to the side. They rushed the hero right after, only allowing Hero a short scream as the knife left their fingers and clattered to the ground before Villain had scooped them up into their arms.

Villain bolted their arms tightly around the crime-stopper, not waisting another second as they headed off down the street to their lair. As they hurried down the street Villain wished they could say it was because they could do better torturing at home.

Unfortunately, that wasn’t the case. The real reason being that Villain still had hope, some last strand of hope that maybe Hero hadn’t given away their information for free, but was tortured into it.

Truth be told, Villain wanted their old dynamic back still and maybe this was their chance to get it. But before they could even think of that, Villain would need to find out what really happened and get Hero to calm down before they woke up the whole neighbourhood begging to be whipped instead of shocked.

TWELVE DAYS OF WHUMPMAS

Our winter event is here! Each day has two whump prompts and one comf/fluff prompt to choose from. Participants can choose to fill one, two, or all three prompts each day.

Transcript of prompts and additional info below the cut!

A Partridge in a Pear Tree: Tied to a Tree | Given as a Gift | Putting up the Tree

Two Turtledoves: Self Sacrifice | Human Shield | Reunion

Three French Hens: Betrayal | Failed Escape | Candlelight

Four Calling Birds: Muzzled | Memories/Flashbacks | Favorite Holiday Memories

Five Golden Rings: Branding | Obsessive Whumper | Gift-giving

Six Geese A-Laying: Blackmail | Countdown | Last-Minute Relief

Seven Swans A-Swimming: Falling Through Ice | Left in the Cold | The First Snow

Eight Maids A-Milking: Poisoned/Drugged | Starvation | Hot Cocoa

Nine Ladies Dancing: Hallucinations | Forced to Perform | Caroling

Ten Lords A-Leaping: Sleep Deprivation | Stress Position | Christmas Lights

Eleven Pipers Piping: Sensory Deprivation | Sensory Overload | Their Favorite Song

Twelve Drummers Drumming: Abandoned | Mugging | Found Family

EVENT TAGS: #amow twelve days of whumpmas; please also tag the prompt(s) you use each day, as well as common triggers.

You can @ us in your post if you like, and we will also go through the event tag each day and reblog entries!