#merry whump of may

[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day 20

“A taste of your own medicine”

Zip Ties || Bleeding Out || Office

Part one || Masterlist

Cw: past torture, blood loss, mentioned murders, dubcon touching(?), I guess kind of kidnapping by definition

“Stay with me, just a bit longer,” Supervillain murmured, their gloved palm pressing to the side of Hero’s head, guiding them to lean against their shoulder. The cape wrapped snug around Hero’s shoulders, covering them like a blanket, growing stains of something even darker seeping across the black fabric.

Even with the warm blood dripping across their skin, Hero shivered, prompting the arms around them to pull them a little closer.

Supervillain’s pace was fast as they moved towards the mouth of the alley, their boots nearly silent despite the gravel. No wonder Hero hadn’t heard them arrive. They weren’t even nearly silent, no, they were soundless. Everything about them was quiet. Even with their mouth inches from Hero’s ear, they couldn’t hear their breaths. The soft murmurs of reassurance nothing more than sounds carried across the breeze.

It was eerie, but strangely… reassuring. Their ear to Supervillain’s chest, they could feel the rise and fall, even though they could not hear them breathe, feel their heart though they couldn’t hear it beat. Quiet, but not the kind that drew terror—soft, gentle, the kind of quiet that promised safety.

“Close your eyes, Hero,” Supervillain whispered, tucking their chin over the Hero’s head.

Everything went quiet. The entire city, fallen to oblivion, there was nothing. Not the scurry of rats behind dumpsters, the hum of the streetlights, the sounds of cars speeding through the streets, reduced to nothing. A silence so deafening it left Hero’s ears ringing, roaring with the blood that pulsed through them. Supervillain held them tight, the palm that held to Hero’s head pressing over their ear as a rush of cold surrounded them both.

It was like falling through ice, into a pitch black ocean, the world around them bursting to darkness. The cold was worse than anything they had ever felt. It wasn’t just a surface level chill, no, this one burrowed deep into their bones, stole the air from their lungs, numbed them to the core.

Just as quickly as it had come along, the darkness cracking open, small fissures quickly shattering apart, allowing a soft light to spill in. Hero’s stomach lurched, and they would have vomited again if they hadn’t already thrown up all that was in them.

“I’m sorry, Hero, that was the quickest way,” Supervillain apologized, feeling the way Hero tensed and shuddered. They wove their fingers in the other’s hair, cradling the side of their head with a gentleness much too tender to be coming from any villain, much less the supervillain.

Hero had never even seen Supervillain before. At least, not in person. Glimpses from some mediocre cameraman had managed to film as Supervillain darted through public, faster than the camera’s shutters could open. They were the city’s most notorious villain, yet few had even seen them—even fewer left alive to recount the events. Bodies, mauled beyond recognition, burned and brutalized in any way imaginable.

What were they going to do with Hero?

Supervillain had stopped walking, stopping down slightly to set Hero on something soft. With much effort, Hero blinked, willing their vision to clear enough to make out the scene around them.

They were in a living room. At least, they thought it was. A buttercream colored couch and armchair set sat positioned around a large coffee table, the couch nearly twice the size of Hero’s back at their apartment. Facing the couch was a large fireplace, stone leading up to a mantle where a flatscreen lay fixed to the wall. The room was lit softly by warm lamplight, a few plants and personal touches, such as throw pillows and blankets spread around just perfect enough to keep the neat image, while adding just a touch of personality to make it comfortable. Still, the high slanted ceilings, the chandelier hanging down, the huge floor-to-ceiling windows framing an entire wall, made it feel more like a set to some extravagant film, not a place where actual people lived.

Supervillain set Hero down on the couch, brushing their hair back from their eyes with a quick promise to be right back, before the air shattered right in front of their eyes. When the tear had mended, Supervillain was gone.

No one knew anything about their powers, not really. No one knew their limits, their specialties. To the public, Supervillain was more a concept than a beings fear not unlike a demon or devil. Blood rushed to Hero’s head, the room spinning around them as they tried to comprehend, but it wouldn’t make sense.

Supervillain reappeared not half a moment later, a white case nearly the size of Hero’s chest in their hands, already flipped open. Hero shuddered, a sudden unease prickling up their spine as Supervillain turned and set the case on the coffee table, digging out gauze squares and a transparent bottle filled with some clear liquid. With a careful touch, Supervillain pulled the cape away from Hero, revealing the wounds decorating their chest.

There was a lot of blood. More blood than any normal person could afford to lose. Supervillain’s jaw tightened, and they twisted off the cap.

“This is going to sting a bit, darling, alright?” Supervillain tried to warn gently, but it was as if Hero’s eyes were looking clear through them.

The villain held back a sigh, setting the bottle aside for a moment as they noticed the goosebumps along Hero’s arms. They held up their hand, and gave a quick snap, and the hearth roared to life behind them, crackling flames devouring the logs.

“Close your eyes, Hero. I’ll take care of you. Go to sleep.”

————————————————

@bees-andbees (thought you’d like to be tagged :D )

@themerrywhumpofmay

[flowerpetalprincess]

Merry Whump Of May || 2023

Stitches

Caged

Experimentation

Losing Control

Coughing Up Blood

Rope Burns

Immortality

Torture

Fever

Numb

Fight

Poison

Grief

Mercy

Forgotten

Threats

Self-Sacrifice

Nightmares

Scars

Beaten/Crushed

Bleeding

Auction

Demon/Cursed

Trapped Under Water

Needles

Bruises

Stabbed

Panic Attack

Isolation

Stepped on

Comfort

-

I understand Merry Whump of May is often for writing prompts, and last year I used those as inspiration for art based responses.

This year seemed a little more difficult to work with, and given I needed a backlog and couldn't find a list until May had already begun, I made my own.

This is my personal list and is focused around art, rather than writing.

Feel free to use if you'd like, but please don't repost without permission.

Inspiration; x x x

[greenwhump]

MAY 4TH “SHOULDERS BACK, EYES ON ME”

Movie marathon | Choking | Forced feeding

@themerrywhumpofmay

CW: Captivity, Drugging, Unrealistic Drugs/Drugging, Restraints, Implied Starvation, Gags

Masterlist

Whumpee knows they should be scared when Whumper pulls them up from their bed. But they were tired and bored. 

Whumper had left them along for nearly the whole day, stapped to the bed with mittens strapped over their hands. They made it so Whumpees hands were nothing more than lumps. Completely useless.

Whumper carried them smoothly from their bedroom to the living room, where they were placed on the edge of the couch. They hadn't been out here very often, it was reserved for when Whumpee was on their best behavior. 

So when Whumper connected their chains to the couch Whumpee looked up at them in confusion, unable to speak past the muzzle in their mouth. “Shoulders back now, you're doing good, but we need to be careful don't we?”

Whumpee nodded, hoping they looked as grateful as they felt. Anything, even being chained to the couch was better, than Whumpers punishments. They had to throw the thoughts from their brain to enjoy this moment. 

After Whumper was done they sat down next to them, curling up so they were nearly completely entwined. Not a second later the Tv turned on, starting to play the Harry Potter theme song. 

Whumpees thoughts were completely swarmed by the show, they hadn't watched it in, forever. A sense of nostalgia washes over them that was overshadowed when Whumper turned their head towards them. 

“Are you having fun?” Whumper was smiling, showing all their teeth that glinted in the light of the TV. 

Whumpee nodded, smiling even more when Whumper reached forward and unclasped their muzzle. Spit fell from it and onto the couch, “Aww look at you sweetheart. Where would you be without me?” 

Whumpee didn't know, but they still nodded they needed to give an answer, eyes lighting up when Whumper leaned over and grabbed something from the side table. The savory smell of soup was wafting under their nose and Whumpee was suddenly aware of how hungry they were. 

They couldn't think of the last time they ate, Whumper had said they didn't need to eat. 

And Whumper was always right. 

So they ignored the way their stomach was cramping, how most of their thoughts turned to food.

They needed to be good. 

But when Whumper brought a spoonful of soup up to their face they didn't hesitate to take it into their mouth. 

“Good job baby, do you want some more?” 

A nod and another spoon were in their face. They counited to eat each spoonful that was placed in front of them. Gracefully taking each. Some part of their brain itched, warning bells ringing loudly but they couldn't care. 

After they had eaten through about half of the bowl though they started to feel happy. Fuzzy. 

Warmth spread through their body, warming their fingers and making them want to wiggle their toes but they weren't able to tell if they were moving them. 

Whumpers form was no swimming in front of them, dipping in and out of focus. “Aww, are you feeling good? Does Whumper make you feel good?”

They nodded again and a doopy smile was spreading over there face. They felt weightless, but the hand on there thigh was the only thing keeping them from floating away. 

They never wanted this feeling to end.

"Whumpee, eyes on me."

Their eyes flicked to Whumpers with ease even as the room started to spin.

"What's my name?"

The words left smooth on their tongue and they barely had to think before they were speaking, saying something they had refrained from.

"Master."

"Good job."

[oddsconvert]

May 31st - "...Sir?"

Middle of nowhere | Freezing | Lighter

@themerrywhumpofmay (the last one?!)

CW: Cold Whump, Implied captivity, Destroying comfort item

-

Perched on a tree log, bitter chills festered in Whumpee’s bones, teeth chattering together relentlessly and hugging their thin coat closer to their body - clinging to the slight defence it offered from the vicious cold winds and falling snow. Whumper slumps down beside them, wrapping an arm around Whumpee’s shivering frame and pulling them close to flop against their shoulder. Who could tell whether the intensity of the shivering came from fear or the cold. Whumper sighed with pity, watching the little thing succumb to the elements. 

“How about I start on a fire to warm you up…? Would you like that, hmm?”, Whumper offered, cupping their hand to feel Whumpee’s frozen cheeks, tucking away stiffened, frosty strands of hair then softly tracing the shell of their ear, a rush of warmth casing the skin as blood swam to the touch. Whumpee lets out a shaky breath, a cloud of fog following and shallowly nodding their head. Pushing Whumpee away, stealing back the miniscule warmth the hold provided away from, they arise and head towards the van - collecting materials to set the fire.

Only when Whumper returns back into view, they are holding onto a few stacks of wood and clutching onto what looks like numerous tiny glossy cards. A handful all shuffled together that Whumper carelessly tossed onto the ground. Whumpee is unsettled, a sickening feeling manifesting in their stomach… thinking they recognise what they are. Despite their legs screaming at them to snap back down, they tremble forward and crouch to pick them up.

“...Sir?”, Whumpee squeaks out, their face dropping with horrified realisation. Crushed.

“What’s up?”, Whumper sneered, fully aware of what they had just discarded onto the floor.

“T-These are my - my photos, sir…”, a pile of priceless family pictures, adored memories with friends - treasured moments that Whumpee kept close to heart and kept them sane through everything. Motivating them to carry on… for them. It had been surprising to Whumpee when they had been allowed to keep them, they’d become their only and prized posession. And although it was a comforting kindness to see the faces of the people they loved, it was a knife through the chest everytime knowing that they would never see them again. Only through paper. 

“Your point is?”, Whumper raised an eyebrow, their tone growing dark.

“D-Don’t burn them. Please. They’re all I have”, Whumpee croaked out, trembling fingers lovingly tracing the face of their mother in the picture. Biting back threatening tears welling in their eyes, the cold wind making them sting.

“Well, Whumpee - we need kindling for the fire and that’s the only resource we’ve got.”

“I - I changed my mind… I don’t need a fire, I can cope-”

“That’s incredibly selfish of you, Whumpee. What about me? Not going to consider how I might be freezing?”, Whumper snapped, beginning to advance on them with their fists clenched. Whumpee gasped and stumbled back, the photos slammed into their chest protectively, blocked by their arms whilst they tried to create some distance.

“… Y-You can use my clothes… burn my clothes!” Whumpee shakily but quickly begins to work at unzipping their coat but Whumper growls out and snatches a fistful of thick hair and yanks harshly, Whumpee screaming out from the sudden pain and reaching their hands up to pull Whumper off - the photos still tucked in between their fingers. 

“Selfish AND ungrateful? You want to burn the very clothes that I put on your back?!”, “We’ll be having a long ‘talk’ about your attitude when we’re home”, Whumper fumed, releasing their grip and shoving Whumpee’s head forward with a scared whimper. Everything they did landed them in trouble, they did not mean to be rude and ungrateful - just wanting to compromise. 

A lighter is shoved into Whumpee’s palm, they shoot their head up and desperately plead with Whumper through wide, frenzied eyes. 

“Start the fire, Whumpee…”, Whumper growls, the impatience and fury only growing stronger by the second. Hatred beaming behind their soulless eyes.

“Plea-”

“Now.” Whumpee’s begging was cut off and a shaky cry slipped out as they flicked the lighter on, watching the flame dance about and envying the heat it possessed. Screwing their eyes shut and holding the flame to their beloved pictures before they can stop themselves or continue begging. Immediately going up in flames and engulfing the whole pile, throwing them instinctively to the floor as the fire kisses their skin. Hot soothing tears run down their face, watching and suffering as the faces of the people he cherish disintegrate, burning to cinders. Flaky ashes whooshing into the air, thick smoke climbing high into the jet black night sky. This was it. The last connection to their life… their last bridge burned. The little hope and yearning in them snuffed out. Now they have nothing. No-one. 

Whumpee dramatically crashes to their knees distraught, quietly sobbing with jagged breaths. As much as they want to enjoy the fire’s warmth, the way the heat embraces them and they feel their body thaw and spring back to life - they are repulsed by it - despise it even. It took away all they had left. NO… Whumper did.

Loathing engulfs Whumpee as they turn their head to scowl at Whumper, clenching their teeth and narrowing their watering eyes. Though Whumper seems unfazed, rather entertained by the anger radiating from them. Instead, they rustle into their bag and outstretch a marshmallow on a stick accompanied with a brazen smile, offering to toast it over the flames.

-

taglist: @rainbows-and-whumperflies

[cryptidwritings]

Merry Whump of May [Masterlist]

links updated every day for May 2022

[OG Post Link]

[Main Masterlist]

Thank you to @themerrywhumpofmay and @painsandconfusion for the prompt lists!!

A/n: the above "cover" was made when I didn't really understand what a drabble was (I just thought it was interchangeable with short story) but I am too lazy to change it! So just be aware most of the below one-shot fics average at 500 words. ALSO I did change my username.

Day 1 - "Don't Hold Your Breath"

Whip | Tears | The Chair

CW: Whipping

___

Day 3 - "Don't Mind Me"

Zip Ties | Awoken In The Night | Smiling

CW: Restraining, noncon drugging, syringe, gagging

___

Day 4 - "Shoulders Back, Eyes on Me"

Alternate Prompt - Self Sacrifice

CW: Threats of death, Caretaker whump, gun

___

Day 5 - "Mind if I Cut In?"

Ballroom | Knife | Stumbling

CW: Whumpee rescue attempt, Comforter vs. Whumper, mention of blood

___

Day 6 - "Who Died and Left You In Charge?"

Rope | Surprise | Warehouse

CW: hogtie, restraining, mild choking, implied murder

___

Day 7 - "Relax"

Comfort | Branded | Trembling

CW: wounds, burns, repeating phrases, dehumanization, blind whumpee

___

Day 8 - "Does That Hurt?"

Broken glass | Alleyway | Begging

CW: nausea/emesis, threats, beating with fists, stabbing with glass

___

Day 9 - "You Can Cry, It's Okay..."

Hide and Seek | Phone Call | Midnight

CW: Blood, Knife

---

Day 10 - "They're Not Here"

Forgotten | Recapture (ish) | Gravel

CW: amnesia, noncon drugging, betrayal

---

Day 11 - "Lock the Door"

Rules | Blindfold | Miscalculation

CW: whip, whumper with superpowers

---

Day 12 - "How Squeamish are You?"

Panic Attack | Blowtorch | Basement

CW: blowtorch, conditioned whumpee, captivity whump

---

Day 13 - "Wait Right Here"

Betrayal | Pistol | Nowhere in Particular

CW: Betrayal, dissociation, murder heavily implied, broken caretaker

---

Day 14 - "Trust Me, You Don't Want to Do That"

Ransom | Fire Poker | Bleeding

CW: bleeding, multiple whumpers, restraints

---

Day 15 - "When Did You Get so Brave?"

alternate prompt - shadows

CW: derealization, hallucination

---

Day 16 - "You're Scared, Aren't You?"

Façade | Needles | Behind Closed Doors

CW: usage of needles, emotional manipulation, intense gaslighting, medicine whump, unreality, a bit of munchausen's by proxy, ableism, repeating word

---

Day 17 - "Let's go Back Inside."

Garotte | Forced to Watch | Carried

CW: team whump, chains, restrained, beating, imprisonment, minor character death mention

---

Day 18 - "It's Getting Late"

Reading | Duct Tape | Asphyxiated(ish)

CW: choking, story time!, restraining using duct tape

---

Day 19 - "I'm All You Need"

Broken Bones | Screaming | Passenger Seat

CW: creepy whumper, intimate whumper, noncon kiss, broken bones, snarky whumpee, hand whump, pliers

---

Day 20 - "Don't Leave Me Here"

[part 2]

Trunk | Gagged | Camping

CW: abandoned whumpee, confined spaces, restrained, gagged, gun, whipping, two whumpees.

---

Day 22 - "Get In"

Office | Box | Laughter

CW: confined space, panic attack, threat of broken bones, knife

---

Day 23 - "Please..."

sobbing | falling | rock

CW: restraints, ropes, uh... i think that's it.

---

Day 24 - "Do You Need a Break?"

car battery | restraints | conditioned

CW: electric shock, restraining, conditioned whumpee, creepy whumper, sadistic whumper, gaslighting, guilt-tripping.

---

Day 25 - "A Little Louder"

buried alive | failed escape | handcuffs

CW: restraints, withholding whumper, ropes, threat of death, implied murder

---

Day 26 - "I Don't Know What you Mean"

gambling | drugged | paranoia

CW: non-con drugging, paranoia, sleep deprivation, posessive whumper, implied past non-con

---

Day 27 - "I'm sorry... I'm so sorry..."

mask | nightmare | pliers

CW: comfort, nightmare, mention of blood, monster(ish) whump, anonymous whumper, masked whumper, multiple whumper's, cult whump

---

Day 28 - "I'd Rather Not"

faked death | iron | ditch

CW: Bad Whumpee, Whumpee turned to... murderer? Threat of death, gun, whumpee on the run

---

Day 29 - "Don't Make Me"

collared | cane | flinching

CW: threats

---

Day 30 - "What Are You Doing?"

car | last resort | alarm

CW: self-sacrifice, escape attempt, finality, character death.

---

Day 31 - "...sir?"

middle of nowhere | freezing | lighter

CW: abandonment, inner monologue, conditioned whumpee

---

END

Thank you for reading!! I hope you enjoyed this month's worth of content as much as I enjoyed writing from these prompts. Now I'm going to go pass out on my couch and veg-out to my favorite show....

[bluenotebooks11]

does anyone have a merry whump of may 2023 list? is there an official one or do i just do whatever the fuck i want? someone please inform me.

[howtowhumpyourhiccup]

Merry Whump of May Day 19!

Summary: Written for Merry Whump of May 2022 Day 19. Set in a Modern AU. As Hiccup walks home in the evening, he's the unfortunate victim of Dagur's mistakes.

Warning: Car accident

Rating: Mature

Characters: Hiccup, Dagur, Valka, Stoick

Pairing: Stalka

Words: 1 333

Fandom: How to Train Your Dragon

Prompt: “I’m all you need” - Broken Bones | Screaming | Passenger seat

Whumpee: Hiccup

Author’s Notes: Finished this a little over a week ago, but I hadn't posted it yet as I was already quite late and wanted to focus on finishing a couple more prompts instead as I do want to complete the whole month. So I'm posting it now.

Constructive criticism is appreciated.

Enjoy!

[shywhumpauthor]

The Merry Whump of May—Day 19

“Apples and oranges.”

Chainsaw | Surprise | Home Base

Masterlist

Cw: murder, graphic description of death, filmed torture, dehumanization, humiliation, restraints, gagging, vomiting

Hero reeled back as a fist smashed into the side of their face, sparks of white crackling across their vision. Heat radiated from their jaw, nose, cheeks, blood dripping from shallow scrapes as bruises welted deep under their skin.

A sob, raw and painful clawed from their throat, tears mingling with the blood and dirt that painted their face, but their cries were muffled by the duct tape, wound tightly over their mouth and around the back of their head. Pulled tight enough that it would undoubtedly leave an indent even after it was removed.

“Come on, Hero, smile,” the Villain taunted, shoving their phone camera close to Hero’s face, grabbing their hair when the other tried to cower away. “Show everyone how fucking pathetic you are.”

The alley was dark and deserted, lit only with the faint glow of streetlights towards the mouth, but Villain had their flashlight on, focusing its directly on them. The light sent daggers shooting back through Hero’s skull, and they squeezed their eyes shut.

Villain let out a cruel laugh, their free hand drawing back before punching Hero hard in the stomach, practically giggling as they doubled over, gagging.

Bile stung their throat, but Hero was forced to swallow it back, lest they wish to choke on their own sick. They doubted Villain would save them if they did. They’d fucking stand there and video, laughing to the livestream as Hero suffocated.

With their hands bound behind them to the rungs of a fire escape, duct tape wound dozens of times around their wrists and forearms, their legs secured at the ankles and knees, there was nothing Hero could do except tuck their chin and try to curl away to protect their face.

“And you call yourself a hero. You’re fucking pathetic, you little bitch, you hear me?” Villain stood straight, the camera swaying as they brought up their leg before stomping down hard on the hero’s bound ankle. The scream was guttural, but it was lost to the gag as Hero heaved, fighting to breathe through their nose while the air refused to enter their lungs.

They were going to suffocate. They were going to die choking on their own blood tainted saliva, while this fucking bastard streamed it for the world to see.

They were a sick, fucked up asshole, Villain. A snake. They hadn’t won shit of a victory. Hero had spent the entire day chasing and fighting OtherVillain, by the time Villain had cornered them, they were already limping and too exhausted to flee in time. It had been a fucking cheap move, lower than a villain. At least people like OtherVillain earned their own fucking success, not steal someone else’s.

“You see, guys, this is what your fucking Hero is. Nothing but a crying coward,” Villain chuckled, their hand dropping to their belt, slipping into the small sheath that laid attached to it.

They weren’t even a fucking Villain. Barely. They hadn’t done crap—Hero had ended every single poorly planned scheme of theirs before it even started. This was just a matter of luck—or the fucking opposite—how they ended up in the same alley as the injured Hero.

Villain squatted down, the blade of their knife dragging down Hero’s chest, scraping the skin. Their uniform lay in less than tatters, the shredded, torn fabric barely hanging off their shoulders, the dark bruises that mottled Hero’s abdomen standing out starkly against the camera’s light.

“I say we leave them with a reminder, how ‘bout that. So they never forget this fucking moment,”

Hero sobbed, breath coming in short gasps through their nose that didn’t seem to draw in any oxygen. They turned their face away, digging their temple against the rungs of the ladder, the cold metal doing nothing to soothe their burning skin.

Villain brought their knife to Hero’s chest, setting the camera down for a second so they could saw away the last few threads of their shirt, leaving them bare and trembling. The night was cold, even colder with their sweating, flushed skin, and Hero let out a weak cry of protest as the knife touched just below their collarbone.

“Fucking watch me, Hero,” Villain demanded, twisting the camera to focus on Hero’s face. “Watch.”

Hero had been tortured before. Whipped and starved, left to hang and bend in the worst stress positions for hours. They’d been beaten and burned, denied water for days on end. They were no stranger to pain, but this, the humiliation adding a certain acid to the edge of the blade, was worse than anything. Blood poured down their chest, a waterfall of crimson opening down their front as Villain dragged the knife down, cutting deep into their skin. Hero couldn’t even scream as they continued, slowly and crudely carving away at their chest.

Fucking letters, Hero realized, the sickening truth dawning on them. Their vision was blurred with tears, distorted enough so they couldn’t even see Villain’s face, barely a foot from theirs. Villain split two jagged curves connecting to the first line, uneven with an intentional negligence behind their movements. They quickly split a second line next to the first, dragging it down nearly to Hero’s sternum.

Everything was spinning now, sensation lost to the terrible vertigo and nausea, world clouded with agony. Villain split two lines next, one vertical and the other horizontal, crossing against each other in the center of Hero’s chest.

The next letter was curved, Hero could feel as the blade slit their skin, and they knew exactly what it was being written in blood, the recording camera carving every humiliating, dehumanizing cut.

Villain didn’t have a chance to finish the fourth letter.

Their phone clattered to the ground, smacking loudly against the asphalt as they were yanked back by the collar of their shirt, thrown against the opposite wall with enough force to crack a skull.

“And just what do you think you’re doing?” A low voice seethed. Hero blinked blearily, but they couldn’t get their vision to focus enough to make out more than two clouded figures in front of them.

“Wait- wait,” Villain gasped, every bit of arrogance fled their tone. “No- no stop, I didn’t mean- no-”

A sharp thud echoed around the alley accompanied by a mangled scream, closely followed by another thud, and then another.

A body dropped to the ground, and it was all quiet, except for Hero’s choking breaths.

“Oh, Hero,” The new arrival turned towards them, but Hero could make out nothing more than an outline as they stepped forwards and quickly knelt next to them, gloved hands raising to rip the tape away from their mouth. Strands of hair were wrenched along with it, skin stinging but Hero barely noticed as they gasped, straining for the first full breath, feeling the air rush through their lungs as if for the first time.

Something churned in their stomach, and they hunched to the side, and vomited.

They felt a hand against their back, pressing softly between their shoulder blades as another grabbed Villain’s discarded knife. Hero panicked for a second as they felt the metal, hot and slick with blood pressure to their wrists, but all the stranger did was slice away their bonds in one clean, sharp flick of their wrist, not even grazing skin.

“You’re alright, it’s alright, love,” the voice soothed softly, hand moving from their back to their face, cold fingers cupping their bruised cheek. Deep and calm, it was familiar, but Hero couldn’t make out their face yet. “Breathe, Hero. Deep breaths, you’ll be alright.”

Hero wasn’t comprehending the words, but between the gentle tone and the light touch, their heaving sobs settled back into gasps, then to shaking breaths. They blinked hard, vision clearing just enough so they could recognize the stranger.

When they did, their heart nearly stopped cold in their chest.

“That’s it, that’s right, Hero, you’re alright.” Supervillain murmured, their thumb brushing over Hero’s bruised cheekbone.

They weren’t. They weren’t alright. But their voice was so soothing, so compelling.

Once they had quieted, eyes barely managing to stay open, something thick and warm was draped over them. They barely had time to register what it was—a cape, made of fine, rich material—before they were picked up, an arm hooking beneath their knees and around their back, lifting them like nothing. Before they straightened fully, Supervillain grabbed something with their hand. They turned the phone’s camera, pointing it straight at the body crumpled across the alley, zooming in and pressing the screen to focus.

Villain was dead. Clearly dead. The back of their skull smashed in and split open, blood leaking from their nose and lips, eyes bulging slightly from their sockets. Dead.

“They’re not going to hurt you again,” Supervillain whispered to Hero, before letting the phone drop from their hands, crushing the screen beneath their boot. “No one is ever going to hurt you again.”

————————————————

@themerrywhumpofmay

[flowerpetalprincess]

Whump Of May || Day 10 - Numb

Caregiver wasn't a hero, if anything, he was the funny side character that kept fucking up no matter how hard he tried.

At least he knew he was a failure.

He also knew that Whumper was the only one smart enough to save Whumpee.

-

Based off an old Portal 2 fanfiction I never finished. This particular fanfiction was based off the Reginer Spektor song 'Blue Lips'.

The story was to end with a particularly harsh winter storm hit Chell and Wheatley fairly hard, and Chell, not able to cope as well with the temperatures, nearly dies.

In an attempt to help, Wheatley opts to take her to GLaDOS. Unfortunately, trudging through the storm may do more harm then good.

Anyway, when I thought of 'Numb' I thought of the cold, of freezing, unable to feel your fingers, so figured this would fit well!

List I'm using.

-

Portal and Wheatley belong to Portal, Portal 2, Valve Corporation

Do not steal, repost, or alter my art in any way.

[greenwhump]

May 1st “Don't hold your breath”

[whip/ tears/ the chair]

@themerrywhumpofmay

Cw: Knifes, Carving, Implied failed escape attempt, Manipulation, Restraints.

Please tell me I missed something cause I have never done this before.

Masterlist

“No no NO!” Whumpee screamed, voice already hoarse as they were being dragged by their wrist. Whumper looked murderous, their hand gripping Whummee’s in a way that was sure to bruise. They threw them forward and quickly strapped their wrists to the chair. 

The chair in the center of the room is secured tightly to the floor. So even when Whumpee started thrashing in a vain attempt to free themself from the chair it didn't move. Whumper easily finished restaining them, securing each of their limbs, and making sure to tighten the last strap tightly around their neck. 

Whumpee choked for a second, eyes bulging before Whumper released the pressure. "Please PLEASE Im sorry! I won't do it again! I won't try again!" Whumpee cried, resigned to their fate as they finally fell back into the chair,

"Oh, your sorry?" Whumper sneered, face twisted up into a grimace as they started at Whumpee. Their hand suddenly lashed across Whumppe's face, leaving red splotches behind. "You aren't, if you were you wouldn't have tried to leave." 

Whumpee stared as Whumper brought out a knife, still glaring into their eyes. "No one," The knife starts on their thigh, digging deeply into their skin. But Whumppe knows it is nowhere near deep enough to let them bleed to death. But they still winced, the pain racing up their spine.

"No one wants you. Your mine." Their voice is deep and possessive as the knife digs and Whumpees leg started twitching. "And because you seem unable to understand that, Im just going to prove it to you." 

Whumper then started carving into their legs. Starting with just simple red lines and cutting over them again and again. Each cut makes it slightly deeper. 

The restains of the chair felt do suffocating, their legs twitched uncontrollably as tears streamed down their face when Whumper was finished with their legs. 

Whumpee could barely see past the tears in their eyes as Whumper showed off their work. 

Whymper's

Pet

Whumper slowly caved around their body, dragging words of possession around their body. 

Property of Whumper

Master's

Mine

Other words littered Whumpees body but they couldn't care. Everything hurt, blood was dripping down their body in flowing rivers. The cuts burned with every movement before Whumper finally pulled away. 

They silently started clearing the knife, whipping it off with a nearby towel. "Do you understand why I had to do that?"

Whumpee just nodded mutely, the blood dripping to the floor sounded like a gong in their ears. 

Whumper leaned down, cupping Whumpee's head and wiping away their tears with soft thumbs. "It's cause I care about you, you made me do this, I didn't want to." 

Their tears had long dried up as Whumper undied their restraints, pulling them into a soft hug. Whumpee fell into the arms, unable to hold any weight. "Did you learn your lesson?"

A small nod into their shoulder. 

"Good job sweetheart, I love you, I love you so much."

[oddsconvert]

May 30th - "What are you doing?"

Car | Last Resort | Alarm

@themerrywhumpofmay

CW (not many for this one): References/implications of past captivity/abuse, Recapture/return, Self-sacrifice.

-

“What are you doing?!” Caretaker shrieks, darting from the front door in only their pyjamas, neglecting their shoes as they urgently sprint over the pebble drive-way and wincing with every stabbing step. They’d been jolted awake by the blaring car alarm cutting through the dead of night’s silence, flashing lights leaking through the curtains and an uncomfortably empty space next to them in bed.

But they don’t reach Whumpee in time, they are already slamming the driver’s door shut and initiating the locks by the time Caretaker’s body collides against the metal, desperately tugging at the handle - nearly ripping it from the car just to get to Whumpee. Guilt plastered on Whumpee’s face, watching Caretaker’s panicked struggle to pluck them from the car, they can’t let that happen.

“Open the doors! Please…” Caretaker begged on the other side of the window, pressing their forehead against it, quickened breaths fogging up the glass. Whumpee exchanged a solemn look, biting their lip and shaking their head in refusal. 

“I have to go back…” Whumpee choked out, their face scrunching up ready to let the tears stream. Whumper’s threats weren’t to be taken lightly; either Whumpee delivers themself back, willingly without a fight - or they’ll come after Caretaker. Whumpee would do anything in the world to stop that from happening. 

“No! Don’t you dare even think about doing that! Just… Come out and let’s talk about this?”, Caretaker's voice cracked, truly petrified at the thought of Whumpee going back to that monster - hurting with unimaginable pain day in and out, unravelling all the progress Whumpee had made in the past few months.

“Nothing to talk about. Made up my mind…” Whumpee shrugs dismissively. 

“Whumpee, I - … it was by some freak luck that we rescued you last time. I can’t promise that we’ll be able to find you again-”, a painful truth. Caretaker would never lie to Whumpee, never. If Whumpee was betting on being saved again, the possibility wasn’t guaranteed. Whumpee pondered in silence for a moment, swiping away runaway tears with their tattered jumper sleeves.

“I know… let me do this? It’s my turn to look after you…”

“Screw that!”, Caretaker cries out, immediately driving their elbow into the window to break in - Whumpee jumps back with a yelp from the violent thud. When that shows no sign of budging, they pull their shirt over their head and wind it tightly around their fist. Ferociously swinging their fist to punch out the glass but it doesn’t so much as crack. They exhaust themselves; physically and mentally. Draining their energy with each powerful hit and growing more frustrated and frightened when they realise it’s useless. 

“Please don’t leave me-”, Caretaker whispers with a sniffle, dropping their forehead once again onto the car with defeat, raising the palm of their hand and pressing it into the window. A slight gasp startling out, snapping their head up when they feel Whumpee’s hand return the touch, warmth emanating through the glass. Whumpee is openly sobbing in the driver’s seat, wishing Caretaker would just understand…

They’re doing this to protect them.

“I love you. I have no other options, this is my last resort”, Whumpee spins the key in the ignition, the engine roaring to life. Caretaker’s eyes growing wide and shaking their head wildly, silently pleading with them to reconsider. Whumpee puts their foot to the pedal and presses on the gas, beginning to speed away from their home but Caretaker runs alongside the car by a determined clutch on the wing mirror, legs running faster than they keep up with as they stumble and trip over the whizzing limbs.

When the car inevitably reaches a speed that is humanly impossible for Caretaker to keep up with, they slack behind and drift into the rear view mirror though not relenting in the chase. Their bare-feet pounding down the dirt track leading away from their house, heart thudding from their chest and panting for breath. Whumpee watches hazily behind them, tear filled eyes blurring their vision as Caretaker drops to their knees with a throaty scream of anguish echoing around them. Growing smaller and smaller as the car pulls away from them until they’re nothing more than a small speck on the rear-view mirror.

-

taglist: @rainbows-and-whumperflies

[littl3gayp3rs0n]

Merry whump of May Day 5

Mind if I cut in?

Warnings- cutting( not s h it’s been inflicting by someone else), torture, violence

Hands tied to the bedpost, blood trailing down her arm, falling down through her wrist and dripping off her hand. It was a startling red, her screams filled the room, her head hurt and no-one was near to help her. “Now, kiddo. You gonna tell me where your little friends are hiding? Or do I have to go again?” He was wearing a mask, blue black and purple in all different shades covering his eyes, nose and mouth. Yet his voice was distinctive, deep and unforgiving. Coco shrieked, no kid should ever had to go through this much pain. “I- don’t r-remember” she cried. The masked man pressed the tip of the blade towards her neck. “STOPP!” Coco screamed. “Listen to me, you must have some idea.” He growled. “D-did you do t-this to A-Allie too? a-are you t-the bad man?” She got out between sobs of pure fear. Just as the man turned to punish the young girl, a wooden door about 2 meters behind him swung open, and a blonde haired boy ran in. “WHAT DID YOU DO?!” He screamed, glancing to his sister. The man, who Coco had identified as Allies killer, didn’t even give himself time to react before spinning round, picking up the wooden baseball bat and swinging it around Sketch’s head. His vision was in a daze, still fearfully stumbling around the room, just trying to reach her. “Aww look at that, can’t even stay on his own two feet… you look like your dancing! Here let me help you” Mark sneered taking Sketch’s hands are parading him through the room. Cocos sobs and screams were soon put to a stop when her brother was knocked out to the floor, his fate to be similar to his sisters. “You still not going to tell me kiddo?” @themerrywhumpofmay

[bridgem76]

I decided to work on The Merry Whump of May prompt list from @themerrywhumpofmay. I know I’m behind, but I’m working on prompts as I can at work. Shhh...don’t tell my boss. Lol. I write pretty much in the Leverage fandom and love me some Eliot Spencer whump! I’d be super excited if anyone would like to pop over and read it! :D

https://archiveofourown.org/series/2909379