June Of Doom Day 25

June of Doom Day 25

"Don't move"

| Natural Disaster | Drowning | Stranded |

Cw: The tags above.

I went for more lighthearted today cause sometimes we need a lil sarcasm in life

...

Sidekick knelt, gripping the chains that shackled their hands to the floor as the water rose beneath them. They were desperatley pulling on them, trying to get higher.

"Don't move!" Villain called to them, standing on the edge of the precipice, a good ten meters from where Sidekick was chained, and slowly sinking.

"Oh really?" Sidekick said sarcastically. "I was planning on going and getting some tacos while I wait for you to unchain me."

"Don't be sarcastic, I'm panicking."

"You're panicking? You're not the one about to die!"

"I'm trying to help you, now shut up and let me think."

The water was rising quicker now. The earthquake had burst the water mains and left a furrow in the ground, leaving Sidekick the perfect captive the drown. Hero had run as soon as the tremors had started. "The civilians needed them" apparently.

Villain had arrived not long after, not about to let their captive die.

They'd brought them here to lure Hero, they weren't going to let the poor kid die.

They eventually gave up on trying to figure something out and just began backing up, trying to guage how far back they needed to be to get the running jump.

The water was reaching Sidekick's neck now, they were pulling the chains and holding themselves up. When they ran out of strength they'd be submerged.

Villain cursed and began to run, sprinting before leaping, only just landing on the platform as the water rose above Sidekick's chin.

They quickly dove beneath the water, key in hand, and began working to undo the shackles.

The first came undone quickly, but the second go stuck. With the little extra leeway, Sidekick was a little further away from drowning than they had been, but not much, and Villain didn't have the strength to keep ducking under.

But just as the water covered Sidekick's nose, the key turned and the shackle released, and the two enemies kicked off the ground the the surface.

Gasping for air, Villain let Sidkick grab their shirt and begin swimming towards the doorway.

They only just made it, diving through the door as the last of the floor dropped away and joined the rushing water below.

Villain lay on the ground panting for a moment before getting to their knees just in time to see Sidekick land a punch across Hero's jaw.

June of Doom Day 23

"How many fingers am I holding up?"

| Poison | Rash | Double Cross |

Cw: The tags above.

...

Villain had flown in and scooped Hero up so fast that Sidekick didn't have a chance to stop them.

They'd been perched on a roof nearby as they watched Sidekick stab Hero in the back, literally.

That wasn't on Villain's to do list. They had plans. Big plans. And none of those plans involved Hero getting killed by Sidekick.

So here they were, carrying a half-unconscious Hero through the skies as they flew to their base.

They landed and strode in, not even offering a word of explanation to their henchman as they dumped Hero unceremoniously on the kitchen table and began gathering supplies.

Hero didn't move from where they were put, too injured to even try.

Villain was halfway through stitching up the wound when they noticed the rash.

The skin around the slit was red and swollen, but that was normal for a stab wound, but it was beginning to spread. The slightly patterned rash had spread up to Hero's shoulder, and that definitley wasn't normal.

"Henchman!" Villain called, and their loyal servant came. Villain tossed them the knife. "That poison?"

Henchman inspected the blade, sniffed it, then nodded, and Villain cursed.

"Get me an antidote, now."

Henchman only nodded and scurried off as Hero began to stir.

Villain shook them.

"How many fingers am I holding up?" they asked, waving two fingers in front of Hero.

Hero's brows scrunched together. "F-four?" They managed and Villain cursed again, grabbing the bag of supplies in preparation for a long night.

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.

June of Doom Day 21

"On three"

| Dehydration | Memory Loss | Choke |

Cw: Implied torture, the tags above

...

Villain cursed as they tried to lift Hero from the ground. They were weak and limp, their legs too wobbly to stand on their own.

"Who-" Hero swallowed, their mouth so dry it was hard to talk. They hadn't had any water for almost two days. "Who are you?"

Villain looked away. Hero hadn't recognised them when they arrived. They were counting on it staying that way for a while. "A friend," they said, finally, and managed to hoist Hero's arm over their shoulder and lift them, half dragging Hero away from the cell.

Villain could still feel the bruises on their neck from the collar that had choked them every time they swallowed, but they didn't say anything to Hero. They didn't need Hero to worry. They needed Hero focused on getting out.

"Come on," Villain muttered and Hero tried their best to get their feet under them.

The pair limped out the door and into the weak sunlight, and Villain immediatley turned towards the woods. It wouldn't be long now before Superhero returned.

They had just reached the treeline when the rumble of the car could be heard coming around the corner, and Villain gripped Hero tighter and turned to run.

Hola

Welcome to my blog, I'm well aware I should have made this post about three months ago but oh well.

I'm Eli, genderfluid, 21 and I write sfw whump but always include the content warnings cause those are important.

I'm gonna try to post regularly but we'll see how that goes. Feel free to send asks or messages, I'll do my best to respond! I love writing from prompts because inspiration can be hard to come by.

I mostly write drabbles but who knows, maybe I'll get my ocs in here one day.

Thank you for reading, have a nice day :)

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