June Of Doom Day 28

June of Doom Day 28

"You'll get used to it"

| Knife | Hostage | Surrender |

Cw: the tags above, kidnapping, self-sacrifice

...

Hero kept Henchman pinned to the ground with a foot on their throat.

"I surrender! Just let them go," Villain cried, their weapons on the ground, their hands raised in surrender.

Hero pressed down harder. "Sidekick, cuff them, I'm not letting Henchman up until I know this isn't a trap."

Villain was thrown against the hood of a car and they didn't struggle as their arms were wrenched back and shackled together.

Only when they were immobilized, kneeling before Hero, did they release Henchman, who staggered away.

"Boss," they said, reaching forward.

"No," Villain snapped. "Go. Don't come after me."

Henchman looked conflicted but ultimately nodded, limping away holding their brusied throat.

Hero smiled down at their new hostage before swinging their foot down onto Villain's head so hard they blacked out.

When they woke, they were chained to the ceiling, hanging by their wrists, their toes only barely able to touch the ground. There was a collar around their neck, chained to the ground, so they couldn't lift their head.

They didn't move, didn't make a sound, until they saw the knife in Hero's hand.

They rattled their chains. "What are you doing?"

Hero cocked their head. "Interrogating you," they said, as though it were obvious.

The blade slashed across their chest first, and Villain screamed. Their arm next, then their stomach.

Hero chuckled. "Dont worry, you'll get used to it. The pain. You're going to be in a lot of it from now on."

Villain could only sob as the knife came down again, cutting across their skin.

June of Doom Day 30

"Are you scared yet?"

| Buried Alive | Failed Escape | Denial |

Cw: the tags above

...

Hero banged on the wood above them, but it didn't budge. This wasn't happening. Hero was hyperventilating already. This was not happening.

They heard a chuckle from above as Villain dumped another shovelful of dirt onto Hero.

"Are you scared yet?"

When they recieved no response, another wad of dirt fell onto the coffin Hero was trapped in.

"You shouldn't have tried to run away Hero. You know I can't let this go unpunished. I'm going to bury you here until I think you've learned you lesson. And who knows? Maybe it will be too late when I finally dig you up."

Another shovelful. Some dirt cane through the gaos in the wood and fell into Hero's mouth. They spat it out, shutting their eyes tight.

"It's not real, it's not real, it's not real," they muttered to themself, but to no avail, they didn't magically wake up and find it was all a dream, they just began to hyperventilate even worse as another shovelful of dirt landed above them.

Hehe I am stealing this

Prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023

It’s finally time! These are your official prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! We have 31 days of wonderful whump prompts. Each day has a set of 3 different prompts to choose from! Alternative prompts will be posted under the cut.

Happy whumping!

Here are the alternative prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! There is one alternative prompt for every day in October.

AI-less Whumptober 2023

Drugging / sick / poisoned 

Overworked / insomnia / Exhaustion

Sensory deprivation / overstimulation / isolation 

Hiding an injury / betrayal / lying

Hostage / kidnapping / Held at gunpoint

Conditioning / mind control / forced to hurt someone else

Flatline / Restrained / CPR

Panic attacks / Dissociation / Seizure

Scar reveal / Interrogation / Presumed dead

Branding / Scarring / collar

Fainting / Paralyzed / Adrenaline 

Self harm / Sacrifice / Character death

Earthquake / Flood / Crushed

Bleeding through the bandage / Field medicine / no anesthesia

Experimentation / Muzzle / transformation

Amputation/ chronic pain / Hospital

Hypothermia / heat stroke / “You look a little pale”

Fever / vomiting / Warm soup

Taken for granted/ Left behind/ “Why wasn’t I enough?”

Dehumanization/ Stockholm Syndrome/ Master and servant

Blood loss / shock / Near death experience

Whipping / Punishment / Stress position

Begging / “Take me instead” / Forced to watch

Failed escape / hunted down / Too exhausted to keep running

 Nightmares / Flashback / “Why didn’t you save me?”

 Magical exhaustion or injury / Curse / Came back wrong

 Forgotten/ Locked away/ Immortal Whumpee

 Hair pulling / Oxygen Deprivation / Sweating

 “The easy way or the hard way?” / Bargaining / Forced to choose

 Possession / Mind Games / Coma

PTSD / Headaches / Crying  Here are the alternative prompts for AI-less Whumptober 2023! There is one alternative prompt for every day in October.

Bloody knuckles

Gunshot wound

Separated from loved ones

Drowning

Blackmail

Crying to sleep

Disowned by family

Electrocution

Forced feeding

Bullied

Suffocation

Abandoned

Grief 

Human Shield 

Self-defense

Lab rat

Memory loss

Misunderstanding

Hypnosis

Mutilation 

Mouth stitched shut

Nerve damage

Nervous breakdown

Words carved into skin

Stalked

Non-Consensual touching

Paranoia

Peer pressure

Prison

Silent treatment

Truth serum

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

June of Doom Day 29

"It's not really that big of a deal"

| Bruises | Secret | Acceptance |

Cw: Abuse, abusive partner, the tags above.

...

Sidekick fingered the bruise on their jaw. It was coming up ugly and purple, right across the left side of their face. It was obvious they'd been punched. They huffed a sigh and let their fingers drop, grabbing the makeup bag sitting beside the sink and rooting through it for the concealer.

Their partner usually wasn't that obvious. Usually they could cover them up with a long sleeve shirt. But they'd made them angry last night, and that had been their mistake.

They were half-way through covering it up when they heard the door open. They had forgotten to lock it.

They cursed, dropping their brush, and they leant down to get it, rising and quickly covering their face with their hand.

"Sidekick?" Hero asked, standing in the open doorway. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine."

"What are you doing here? And why are you covering your face?"

"It's nothing, I'll be out in a minute."

"Is that a bruise?" Hero rushed forward, pulling Sidekicks hand away to reveal the ugly purple, half covered along their jawline. "Who did this?"

"No-one, it's not a big deal. I just fell."

"Not a big deal? Sidekick you look like you just went one on one with Villain!" Hero prodded the bruise gently, and Sidekick hissed. "You need to get some ice on this. Then we need to talk."

"About what?"

"About Partner."

"No-"

"Sidekick, they hurt you. They shouldn't hurt you. You need to get help."

Sidekick was silent for a moment as tears sprang to their eyes, before nodding slowly. "Okay."

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.