#june of doom

[juneofdoom]

What up, whump fam?!

June of Doom 2024 Prompts!

We've brought back some old favorites/ popular prompts from last year with a healthy dash of new!

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!

Two rules this year!

As with last year, tag your stuff with appropriate warnings, plzkthnx.

AI-created content is highly discouraged and frowned upon. I have no way of "checking", but I respect the time and effort people put into their crafts and encourage everyone to do the same. This isn't a contest for best written or prettiest art — it's a challenge, so challenge yourself.

Text list below the cut for easier crossings-off. And don't forget to tag @juneofdoom so I can reblog your awesome here! Have fun!

“Help me.”                                        | Failed Escape | On the Run | Fetal Position |

“It didn’t have to be this way.”             | Scream | Double Cross | Made to Watch |

“Well, well, well…”                            | Hiding | Ambushed | Stalking |

“Does that hurt?”                               | Impalement | Fracture | Punishment |

“It’s not as bad as it looks.”                 | Bite | Swelling | Disfiguration |

“They don’t care about you.”               | Flinch | Broken Promise | Abandoned |

“What happened?”                            | Nightmare | Isolation | Stumbling |

“This is your last chance.”                    | Drowning | Chair | Prisoner Trade |

“I made a mistake.”                            | Accident | Acceptance | Blame |

“Can you hear me?”                           | Fear | Smoke | Phone Call |

“We’re out of time.”                           | Bleeding Out | Collapse | Flatline |

“I can’t stand seeing you like this.”        | Dehydration | Grief | Coma |

“Wait!”                                             | Sacrifice | Adrenaline | Cornered |

“What were you thinking?”                  | Surrender | Human Shield | Outmatched |

“Get me out of here!”                         | Rescue | Chainsaw | Presumed Dead |

“At least it can’t get any worse.”           | Secret | Stranded | Setback |

“You don’t want to do that.”                | Struggle | Blackmail | Desperate Measures |

“I’m fine.”                                         | Self-defense | Allergies | Headache |

“This can’t be happening!”                  | Sobbing | Straitjacket | Dissociation |

“I can handle it.”                                | Scrape | Panic Attack | Neglect |

“Let’s play a game. “                           | Stairs | Pressure Points | Trap Door |

“What’s the bad news?”                      | Poison | Bedridden | Cauterization |

“You’re doing great.”                         | Trembling | Gaslighting | Rules |

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”                  | Blankets | Stitches | Bandages |

“I should have listened to you.”           | Guilt | Backseat | Failure |

“Don’t lie to me.”                               | Rage | Choke | Paranoia |

“Or what?”                                       | Defiance | Display | Last Resort |

“Say something.”                               | Numb | Cold Shoulder | Gag |

“I’m so cold.”                                    | Delirium | Fever | Exposure |

“Breathe, damn you!”                         | Shock | Asphyxiation | Emergency Room |

ALTERNATE PROMPTS

“Who did this to you?”

“Please don’t leave me.”

“I’m not okay.”

“Don’t make me say it again.”

“You poor thing.”

Attending Your Own Funeral

Broken Glass

Mask

Whip

Obedience

#june of doom 2024 #june of doom #juneofdoom #masterlist #whump writing #whump stuff #summer of whump #whump things #whump prompts #writing prompts #whump #masterpost #writing challenge #events #whump event #whump community #whumblr

[cricket-reader]

Mutual Agreement

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox

Summary: whilst on a mission, you and Bucky get caught in the cold. Your body doesn’t handle the temperature well, being you’re not a supersoldier. Your state brings back memories of Bucky’s life before Hydra, making him fear for your health.

Warnings: language, hypothermia, crying, mentions of death, fluff

Word Count: 1,551

Prompt: Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation

A/N: Day 4 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

Bucky never showed his emotions. He was a closed book, and he intended to keep it that way. But that all shattered to pieces one fateful mission.

You and Bucky had been assigned to take down an abandoned Hydra base in Russia. Bucky had wanted to go alone, but Steve insisted that he went with a partner. That partner just so happened to be you, the girl that Bucky admired from afar.

You were strong, intelligent, and beautiful. He admired you for that and all the good you had done. You were better than him in every single way.

Finding and destroying the base was an easy matter. It was abandoned, therefore, there were no surprise attacks. It was the perfect mission. No injuries, no deaths, and most importantly to Bucky, not even a hair on your head was harmed.

Things only went downhill from there.

The getaway vehicle you had parked in the forest refused to start again. It didn’t matter what Bucky did, the vehicle refused to start up. On top of that, it was freezing in the vehicle. Almost as cold as it was outside, without the wind, of course.

If your shivering was anything to go by, Bucky knew you both couldn’t stay there. On his GPS, the safe house wasn’t far away. The supersoldier could make it on foot no problem. He just wasn’t so sure about you.

Internally, his thoughts were running rampant. On the outside, he looked as calm and collected as usual.

“We shouldn’t stay here. Do you think you can walk to the safe house?”

You bit your lip. “Sure.”

Bucky didn’t trust the tone of your voice whatsoever, but he didn’t let it show. He had to get you to warmth before he lost you.

You both exited the useless vehicle, and trudged your way towards the cabin.

It didn’t take long for your hands to start shaking, and your steps to begin faltering. You had to stay strong, though. You couldn’t face the embarrassment of failure in front of a teammate that you swore hated your guts.

The feeling in your face as well as your feet had long since vanished. Your fingers hadn’t had feeling since you reached the vehicle. These were not good signs, but you resigned to deal with it since the cabin was coming into your view.

Bucky noticed you lagging behind before you did. His heart raced, wanting to pick you up and bolt to the cabin where he could get you warm. He knew, however, that you would not like that notion. You’d probably smite him if he dared lay a finger on you. You liked your space, hating when people invaded it. Because although you were kind, you too had boundaries. Physical touch just happened to be yours.

It wasn’t until you tripped and fell into the snow that he decided, “screw that” and picked you up from the ground. You were trembling so hard, as cold as ice and it fucking scared him.

You let out a small noise of protest as he gathered you in his arms and began to run to the cabin. You could do it yourself. You just needed a little rest, that’s all.

Bucky slammed the door to the cabin open and slammed it shut before running to set you on the ground. He took off your soaked jacket and boots. You gently pushed him away, not really able to put any force behind it. “I can do it myself,” you muttered indignantly.

Whilst Bucky usually loved your sense of independence, it only served to frustrate him. He pouted with his signature grumpy face, arms crossed and all. He watched you peel off your drenched socks. Your fingers were still trembling.

He just wanted to help. You turned to go to one of the rooms, hoping to find a new pair of pants that weren’t wet.

You overestimated your ability to walk. Tripping over nothing probably had to be the most embarrassing thing you had ever done in front of Barnes. He didn’t hesitate to catch you. In Bucky’s arms you wanted nothing more than to melt into a puddle of shame.

Bucky muttered something to himself as he carried you to the nearest room. He set you on the ottoman in front of the bed before going to ruffle through the closet. He found some clothes for you to wear.

He turned around to give them to you, so you could change yourself. When he saw you falling asleep, he dashed to your side. You couldn’t fall asleep on him now. “C’mon, wake up,” he muttered, not a trace of worry evident in either his tone or on his face. He was determined to keep calm in front of you. Freaking out would do no good.

You blearily opened your eyes. It was so cold. Why were you so cold? You were in the warmth now. You should be fine.

“I’m gonna change your clothes now, okay? Is that alright?” Bucky asked. He didn’t want to do anything without your consent, but if worse came to worse, he would have to. He just needed to stabilise you before things got any worse. You just groaned in response. Cursing under his breath, Bucky dutifully peeled off your pants and dressed you in the sweats he had found. He left your shirt on, since it wasn’t affected by the snow. He didn’t want to do anything more. Not without your consent.

In your state of delirium, you barely noticed that he had picked you up and carried you to bed. You barely noticed the way he took care to wrap you in multiple blankets.

When you woke up, you were incredibly warm. You were also practically trapped in a cocoon of blankets. Groaning, you unwrapped yourself from the layers upon layers of blankets.

You tiptoed your way into the hallway. Looking around, you didn’t see Barnes anywhere.

You furrowed your brows when you heard a muffled sound coming from the bedroom down the hall.

You creeped to the door and pressed your ear against it. You could hear ragged breaths and choked sobs coming from behind the door. It had to be Bucky. No one else would be out here. However, you’d never seen him cry. He always was so strong given what he’d been through. He was resilient. So what could have prompted his tears? Did he have a nightmare? You knew from Steve that he was struggling with them. Your hand hesitated at the door handle. How you longed to go in there and comfort him, to wrap him in your arms and tell him he was safe now. But you knew he was a private person. He hated it when people saw him vulnerable, and you didn’t blame him.

All it took to break your hesitance was a sob.

Bucky had a hard time keeping everything in. He didn’t mean to let it out, but god he couldn’t help it. Seeing you look so pale and weak, your ice cold skin and shivering body… it reminded him of Steve. Little Steve back when they were kids. He thought Steve was going to die that cold January night. Bucky had stayed with him the whole night, praying to anyone that would listen to not take away his best friend.

It was like history was repeating itself and just the thought of you dying tore him to shreds. Now, Bucky didn’t believe in any god, not after all he went through with Hydra, but you bet your ass he had prayed. He didn’t get too far before his emotions caught up with him, hitting him head on like a bus.

That led him to the moment where you burst through the door. Your concerned features swept Bucky’s distraught figure. He was in the corner of the room, curled up into a ball. He didn’t even notice you, too busy trying to get air into his lungs.

Your heart tore at the sight of him so broken. You gently moved up beside him and kneeled just a few feet away. “Bucky?”

His red, watery eyes looked up at you like you were a ghost. Those eyes widened as he scrambled to make himself look like less of a mess. He sniffled back his tears and ran his hands over his eyes. Red creeped onto the tips of his ears and the back of his neck, completely ashamed you were seeing him like this.

His body froze when you wordlessly wrapped your arms around his body. He wanted to cry all over again. He couldn’t remember the last time someone had held him as if he were something precious. It took him a few seconds before he returned the gesture, hesitant to touch you. He could hurt you… or what if this was all just a figment of his imagination. Bucky didn’t want your tender hold to disappear.

You both stayed wrapped in each other’s arms for the rest of the night. Not a word needed to be said between you both. In your silence was a mutual agreement. An agreement that no one had to know about Bucky’s meltdown. An agreement that you wouldn’t ask questions. An agreement that this is what both of you needed. Some comfort.

#marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #avengers fanfiction #domestic avengers #avengers angst #avengers fluff #mcu whump #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #june of doom #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky barnes x reader #james bucky buchanan barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #bucky fic #bucky barnes oneshot #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky fanfic #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes #marvel angst #marvel fluff

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

June of Doom day 15

 “please” (blindfold/pressure point/scream)

Content warning: branding

"Say my name, and I'll let you go."

"I told you dammit, I don't–augh!" Another brand was pressed into Whumper's skin, burning another scar into their flesh.

Whumper struggled against their bindings, trying fruitlessly to slip from the ropes binding them to the chair or remove the blindfold from their eyes. Their exposed flesh was governed in angry, bright burns, the marks of hot metal having been pressed into their skin. Their skin was damp with sweat.

"That's not a good answer. Try again."

"Shit–" Whumper swore, shaking. "W-whumpee? Are you Whumpee, is that why you're doing this?!"

The iron was pressed against Whumper's cheek, sizzling against the tears that had begun dripping down their face. Whumper screamed.

"Please!" Whumper's words came out as a sob. They flailed in their seat, trying desperately to escape the agony. They gave a pained gasp when it was finally removed, ducking their head and letting out a pitiful whine. 

Caretaker carefully returned the iron to the fireplace, keeping a close eye on Whumper’s shaking form. Whumper didn’t know who they were. Not their name, their face, their voice, or even that they existed. They had no way of knowing. 

Caretaker smiled. "Wrong. Try again,"

#I love morally questionable caretakers #caretaker #whumper #caretaker turned whumper #whumper turned whumpee #june of doom #branding #june of doom day 15 #my stuff

[chaotic-orphan]

June of doom, day twenty-eight:

You’ll get used to it: knife // hostage // surrender

CW: blood (mentioned), kidnapped whumpee, unconscious whumpee, gagging (described), gagged whumpee, cruel whumper, hostage situation, trade, self sacrifice Whump, powerless Whumpee’s, multiple Whumpee’s, choking (described), forced submission (described), handcuffs, chains, collar

*~*~*~*~*

Leader arrived like Villain asked, alone, without their team, their hands raised in surrender as they emerged onto the roof. Villain stood at the opposite end of the roof, half sitting on the ledge looking over the city, the wind pulling at his clothes and hair, a lollipop between his lips.

He looked almost innocent like that. Not realising Leader was there yet. Taking in the city he threatened to destroy time after time after time after time again, and everytime Leader stopped him. Leader and their team.

Never quite caught him. Never got that far, he wasn’t the type to be arrested. Far too smart for that. Too smart for Leader, as it turns out.

Leader’s eyes trailed down to Villain’s hands to see a length of chain wrapped around his knuckles, turning the flesh white in his hand. Leader followed the short length of chain to an unconscious Whumpee at Villain’s feet, the chain tied tight around their hands that were drawn behind their back, a cloth gag in their silenced mouth. There was blood on the tip of the cloth, and twin streams of blood dripping down Whumpee’s nostrils and onto the rooftop.

“They wouldn’t shut up,” said Villain without turning his head, taking his lollipop out as he continued, “they weren’t worth the ransom.”

“Got me here, didn’t it?” Leader asked with a self-deprecating smile on their face. Villain finally turned to face Leader then. Cold, intelligent eyes scanning Leader’s casual outfit. It was unusual to see them without their protective gear, but Villain just turned away to look out at the view again.

“Drop the knife, then we’ll talk,” said Villain, almost bored, popping the lollipop back into his mouth.

Leader’s eyebrows knit together in confusion, taking a cautious step forward, their hands still raised in surrender. “I don’t have a knife.”

Villain didn’t answer. Instead he nudged a foot to the unconscious Whumpee’s shoulder. Leader jolted forwards, their hands dropping but stopped when Villain halted them with a cutting, icy stare. Villain leaned down, lower back resting against the roof wall, pulling the gag from Whumpee’s lips and letting it fall under their chin.

Villain poked Whumpee’s cheek, and again harder. Whumpee barely moved. Villain took his lollipop from his mouth and rammed it down Whumpee’s throat. Whumpee jumped to life then, gagging and gasping on the sweet, but Villain kept Whumpee down by a hand on their throat and a gentle ‘shhh.’

Whumpee calmed slightly when Villain stopped shoving the lollipop down their throat, panicked eyes turning hard as they let their breath out through their nose.

“Don’t look at me like that,” said Villain, adding a little pressure to their grip on Whumpee’s throat. Leader stepped forward again, and Whumpee gasped and struggled under Villain’s hands and Leader stepped back again. Villain let up the pressure, and said to Whumpee: “Look who’s here for you, Whumpee.”

Whumpee turned their head to the roof opening and almost gasped, dropping the lollipop but Villain slammed a hand up to Whumpee’s chin, clamping it shut. “If you drop that lollipop I’ll make sure Leader doesn’t get off this roof alive, Whumpee, understand?”

Villain let go of Whumpee’s chin before they could nod, their lips shut tight now, weary eyes going to Leader who stood a few feet away. Alone. Without their combat gear. Whumpee wanted to scream and punch themselves for being so stupid. For ever trusting Villain…

Villain stood up, putting a foot on Whumpee’s sternum. “Leave them alone!” Leader cried, stepping forward again. Villain just kept pressing down until Whumpee was almost crying out, barely holding their lips together to keep the lollipop in. Villain suppressed his grin at the sight of it before letting up on the force on Whumpee’s chest, letting them catch their breath.

“I told Leader to come unarmed, unprotected and alone, Whumpee. That was our arrangement of this little hostage agreement, and what do ya know? Leader comes unprotected and alone, armed with a knife that they think I don’t know they have,” Villain said, leaning down again on Whumpee’s chest, watching Whumpee struggle uselessly against him and fight to keep their mouth shut. “The one they always carry, the one that was a gift from their rotten dead friend, y’know, with the wooden handle and the nice engraving that says—“

Before Villain could continue there was a clatter on the rooftop beside him and he glanced over to see said knife near Whumpee’s leg. Villain took his foot off Whumpee’s chest and Whumpee let out a pained stuttered huff of relief from their nose as they half rolled to face Leader and Villain better.

Villain scooped the knife up from the ground and clicked the button, the blade shooting from the top with a shink. It really was a beautiful knife, Villain had to admit. The blade was a polished slate grey, the edges sharpened daily no doubt, glinting the moonlight back at Villain.

Villain finally looked back at Leader and put the blade in his jacket pocket, folding it before putting it in.

“Good,” said Villain, stepping over Whumpee and leaning back against the railing, folding his arms over his chest, “Now we can speak.”

“It’s a trade, right?” Leader asked, though it sounded more like a demand. “Me for Whumpee.”

“I can be persuaded to that,” said Villain, tilting his head side to side, as if debating it. “With a few conditions.”

“Name them.”

“NMmph!” Whumpee protested, still gagged by the lollipop in their mouth. Villain let a small smile grace his lips at Whumpee’s distress. That’s what they get for not knowing how to shut up.

“I leave Whumpee here, knocked out, you take their chains and you don’t fight me.”

“Ngh!” Whumpee tried again, their useless struggles accompanied by the jangling of the heavy chain tied around their wrists.

Leader didn’t say anything at first, just licked their lips and opened their mouth, then glanced at Whumpee and shut it again.

“You don’t knock them out,” Leader tried and Villain chuckled darkly, shaking his head.

“Nuh-uh Leader, you don’t get to make demands anymore,” Villain sang. Whumpee pushed their hands off the ground, trying to sit up but Villain kicked them back down, planting a boot on Whumpee’s back.

“I— I—“ Leader began, but they gave up before they uttered another sound. Villain could see it. The way their eyes searched the roof for some other thing, some saving grace that wasn’t there because Villain had made sure this hostage negotiation was airtight. Villain waited with baited breath. “Please Villain… you already hit them! Just let them go and I’ll come willingly—“

“How do I know you don’t have your little team waiting downstairs to collect Whumpee? To try and stop me?”

“You told me to come alone so I did,” Leader said hotly.

Villain tilted his head, icy eyes zeroed in on Leader. “I also told you to come unarmed. Then maybe I wouldn’t’ve had to hurt Whumpee more than necessary, hmm?”

Leader licked their lips. Villain smiled. “Okay,” said Leader softly, shoulders sagging in defeat. “Okay. Just, fuck… okay. Me for Whumpee. No tricks.”

Villain pushed off the wall with a grin. “Good. I know you’re not used to taking orders Leader, but don’t worry… you’ll get used to it. Like Whumpee did. Isn’t that right Whumpee?”

He stepped over Whumpee again, and bent low, his back to Leader, covering his conversation with Whumpee. “Well done for keeping your mouth shut for five seconds, Whumpee, I’m proud.”

Whumpee moved the smaller lolly to the side of their mouth before pleading: “Villain please. Please, don’t take them. It’s my fault—“

“Come on Whumpee,” Villain tsked, not unkindly. “Give me some credit here. I was just very convincing. It’s not your fault. It’s your team’s little weakness. I’m just shocked it took me this long to realise how pathetic you all were.”

“Leader—“ Villain jammed their hand under Whumpee’s chin again, silencing them with a huff.

“I prefer you better when you don’t speak, Whumpee.”

Whumpee wrestled their head free, as Villain grabbed the stick of the lollipop and dragged it out between Whumpee’s clenched teeth. “Villain—“

“Is the lollipop all gone?” Villain asked. Whumpee wanted to protest, but instead they bit the small nugget left of the cherry lollipop and swallowed. Then they stuck their tongue out.

“Happy?”

“Ecstatic,” Villain said. Without hesitation, Villain grabbed Whumpee’s shoulder and turned them over onto their stomach. Whumpee opened their mouth again and Villain took that as an opportunity to drag the gag between their teeth again and tied it tight behind Whumpee’s head. Whumpee groaned into the gag, struggling again. “Shhh,” Villain said, putting his index finger and thumb on either side of Whumpee’s neck.

Whumpee struggles lessened, they rested their forehead on the ground with a strangled protest. Villain grinned, then looked over his shoulder at Leader.

“Hey, Leader. Come here.”

Leader didn’t move for a second, and that was a second too long. Villain pressed down hard on Whumpee’s neck and Whumpee’s whimpers of pain were accompanied by rushing footsteps and Leader was beside Villain now. A test.

“I want you to do it,” said Villain, sitting back on their arse against the roof.

Leader glanced over at Villain with narrowed eyes. “No.”

“Yes,” said Villain and Whumpee grunted behind the gag.

Leader shook their head, fingers curling into fists at their sides. “No. I won’t.”

“Oh come on, Leader,” Villain chastised softly. “I’ve seen you do it to other villains and petty criminals.”

“That’s different,” Leader ground out through clenched teeth. Barely containing their anger. “They’ve hurt someone, or did something wrong. Whumpee didn’t.”

“No?” Villain asked and Leader knew it was a trap before they replied. “No.”

Villain leaned forward, looking up with cruel, smiling eyes at Leader. “If it wasn’t for Whumpee, you wouldn’t be here. In this mess. The city wouldn’t have to lose their number one Hero. Isn’t that right, Whumpee?”

Leader’s fists were shaking and Villain clicked their tongue. “Nothing to be done then I guess. Whumpee, I’ll just slam your head into the ground and hope it doesn’t kill you.”

As Villain leaned over, hand fisting Whumpee’s hair Leader’s hand shot out and clamped down hard over Villain’s wrist. Villain clicked their tongue again.

“Take your hand off me, or I’ll chop Whumpee’s off just to prove my point.”

Leader yanked their hand back as if it burned, and said: “okay… okay. I’ll do it.”

Whumpee whimpered behind the gag and struggled in their chains. “Relax, Whumpee. Leader’s here to save you. Again. Just Co-operate.”

Whumpee screamed against the gag, thrashing wildly. Leader surprised Villain who thought they’d take a less violent approach. A punch to the temple and Whumpee went still. Villain whistled, long and loud as he took the key out of his pocket and unlocked the cuffs around Whumpee’s wrists.

“Didn’t think you’d do that,” said Villain, feeling Leader’s glare on him as he worked on the second cuff. Individually locked, Leader noted, an excuse to not focus on what they just did to Whumpee of all people.

Villain stood, grinning at Leader as he pulled another lollipop from his jacket pocket. He pulled the plastic wrapper off it and popped it into his mouth. He lifted his hand and drew a circle in the air with his finger.

Leader turned around, putting his hands behind his back like Whumpee. “No, no, no,” Villain said, putting a hand on Leader’s shoulder. “I changed my mind. Turn around again.”

Leader did, rolling their eyes. Villain put the metal cuffs on and tightened them as far as they could go, Leader drawing their arm up when it started to pinch, but Villain didn’t let them go far.

“It’s okay. It’s okay,” Villain cooed reassuringly as he cuffed Leader’s other hand in front of them. Villain then wrapped the chain around Leader’s neck and Leader recoiled but Villain yanked them forward again. “If you think I’m not going to enjoy this exactly how I want to Leader, you are not as smart as you look. Do you want me to take Whumpee with us on our little road trip?”

The fight went out of Leader at the mention of Whumpee, guilt washing over their face before they reached acceptance. Villain said: “good. Quick learner. It’ll help you… adjust.”

Villain tightened the chain until Leader squirmed a little then padlocked it shut, wrapping the free length around his knuckles and palm, before yanking Leader forward.

Leader jolted, putting a steadying foot out in front of them to stop themselves from falling. Then levelled Villain with a harsh glare. Villain just smiled. “Oh I can already tell…. This is gonna be fun.”

#june of doom #nearly finished #whump scenario #whump prompt #whump #whumpblr #whump writing #emotional whump #villain whumper #leader whumpee #leader whump #team leader whump #multiple whumpees #defiant whumpee #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #hero villain prompt #prompt challenge #cold whump #whump drabble #whumpee #hero whumpee #self sacrifice #hostage #kidnapping whump #orphan writing

[hadesstan]

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.

#whump #whump drabble #whump writing #june of doom #whumpee #whumper #hero villain whump #villain caretaker #hero whumpee #hero x villain

[much-obliged-timothy]

June of Doom #30

The Old Guard - #30 - Buried Alive

*

“I’m just saying, he should’ve been back by now,” Joe said, pacing by the door of the safehouse. “I’m going to look for him. I don’t like this.”

Andy caught his arm. “Joe-”

“Quynh is free and she’s angry, Andy!” he said. “What if she…what if she found him?”

“She wouldn’t hurt Nicky,” Andy said firmly.

“No, the old Quynh wouldn’t hurt Nicky. The Quynh who’s been suffering underwater for hundreds of years? We don’t know her. You heard Nile; she’s free and she’s furious.” Joe yanked the door open. “He shouldn’t have gone out on his own. I knew it was a bad idea.”

Nile ran into the room so fast that she tripped over the coffee table and Joe just barely managed to catch her before she fell. She was covered in cold sweat, her eyes wide and frantic, hair messy from sleep.

“She has him,” she said, gripping Joe’s arms. “Oh, god, she has him.”

The color drained from Joe’s face. “Where?”

“I don’t know. She tricked him.” Nile pulled away and put her face in her hands. “Pretended to run to him for help. He was comforting her when she killed him.”

“How did she know where he-” Joe froze. Andy subtly pushed Nile behind herself. “Fuck! Nile! You drove us to the safehouse! You led her right to him!”

“Stop,” Andy snapped. “Nile is new to this. You and I should’ve been the ones to know better, Joe. Focus. We can use Nile to track Quynh, just like Quynh used her to track us.” 

Andy fought down the feelings rising rapidly inside of her. Quynh, her Quynh, back after all these years. 

But what was she going to do with Nicky? Surely she’d never hurt Nicky. The two had been close friends. Quynh had always admired Nicky’s kindness and bravery. Nicky didn’t laugh often, but Quynh got him to laugh almost as much as Joe sometimes. 

She must be using Nicky to lure Andy in. Andy was the one she was angry at, surely. It was ultimately Andy who had failed her, not Nicky or Joe. 

“She’ll trade him for me,” Andy said, because she couldn’t have Joe losing his composure now. “That has to be her plan. What else would she want with Nicky? She’s probably been waiting for one of us to be alone, and Nicky just happened to be the first one.”

“Where did she take him? What did you see?” Joe demanded, ignoring Andy.

But Nile just shook her head. “She had him in the back of a van. She wasn’t driving and there were no windows. She…she had a gun pointed at him. He was dead and bound.” She looked at Andy with that mix of desperation and fierce resolve that made her such a good addition to the team. “We have to find him, Andy. That rage she feels isn’t just directed at you. She blames all of you, even Nicky.” 

“Nile, call Copley. We’ll go see what we can find. And I am calling Booker. He can’t be on his own out there right now, not if she’s going after us,” Andy said, kicking the door all the way open and grabbing the car keys. 

Joe and Nile hurried to follow her out. She didn’t need to ask to know they were armed. 

She was heartbroken over Quynh’s fate. But it was no fault of Nicky’s, and Andy would do anything to get him back safely and take the consequences herself. 

***

Booker met up with them the next day, drunk enough that they smelled the booze on him before he even entered the safehouse. Joe had roughly taken him to sober up, yelling at Booker about how they all needed to be ready for anything and on guard. Booker did not drink again.

Copley tried to track down Quynh. When he showed no signs of success, Booker joined in the search. They debated moving safehouses, but decided to stay in case Quynh sent a ransom or anything of the sort for Nicky. They set up a strict watch rotation and ensured everyone was armed at all times. 

It was three days before the letter arrived.

Andy unfolded it. Joe reached for it, but Andy held it away as her eyes scanned over the words and her heart shriveled in her chest at them.

“Andy!” Joe said, pleading. “What does it say?”

She swallowed down bile and read it aloud, her voice monotonous despite the horror threatening to choke her. “You will not find Nicolo. I thought of the perfect way to hurt all three of you at once. You and Yusuf will suffer, knowing you can never save him. He will suffer as I did. I can think of no more perfect revenge than this. He will cry out for Yusuf with every dying breath, and Yusuf will sob for him with every passing minute, and you will live with the knowledge that you were responsible to protect them both. As you read this, Nicolo is dying yet another death, buried alive deep beneath the earth, waiting for help that will not come just as I did. Every time you think of his agony, know you caused it by abandoning me.”

Joe sat down heavily. Nile put a hand over her mouth. Booker pushed a shaking hand through his hair.

“No,” Joe whispered. “She wouldn’t. Not Nicolo. Not him.”

“Get up,” Nile whispered. “Joe, get up. He needs us. I don’t give a fuck what she says. We’re going to find him. We’re going to save Nicky. Get up!” 

Andy felt numb inside. Nicky, her kind, caring Nicky, was buried alive somewhere right now, waiting for them to find him and save him. Trusting them to save him. Just like Quynh.

She felt like she was spiraling. This couldn’t be happening again. Not again.

“Andy!” Nile shook her and ripped the letter from her hands, crumpling it up and tossing it off to the side. “Andy, he needs us. We cannot fall to pieces right now.”

“She could have buried him anywhere,” Booker said, shaking his head helplessly. “Where do we even start?”

“Nicolo,” Joe whispered, and began muttering to himself, clasping his hands together and pressing his face to them. 

Nile placed a firm, comforting hand on his back. “Andy, think. You knew her best. Where would she take him?”

Andy honestly had no idea. She thought and thought, but they had traveled so many places that she couldn’t pinpoint one. The world had changed too much in the centuries that Quynh had been trapped in the ocean; she had no idea what Quynh would do or where she would go. 

Nile waited only another moment before nodding to herself. “Then we focus on surveillance videos. We try to find the van they took Nicky in. It’s better than sitting around doing nothing.”

“Andy,” Joe said, picking his head up. Tears were already dragging tracks down his cheeks. “We can’t fail him. He’s alone. He must be so scared.” 

And who wouldn’t be, buried alive by your own friend, knowing you would never truly die? Forced to suffocate in the cold, lonely dark again and again for eternity. 

So they got to work, even if the weight of the letter threatened to drag them all down into despair. They searched and searched, abandoning sleep whenever possible to keep going. Nile and Booker took over care for Joe, who would not eat or sleep or stop for a moment unless forced to. Andy was barely keeping herself together, but she managed to cling to her fractured pieces for the sake of her team.

Nine days after getting the letter, they found him.

It was Booker who got the idea when he saw Nile on her phone with Copley. Nicky had been carrying a cell phone with him when he left the safehouse that day.

The phone was no doubt long dead, but Booker managed to track it using something which Andy did not understand but which gave them a general location.

It was just outside a nearly abandoned town, with miles and miles of ground that no longer bore crops. Condemned land left to the wildlife to roam.

They forced themselves to be methodical, mapping the area and breaking it into a grid pattern, each of them assigned grids to dig up. They checked for signs of recently turned over ground, but found none as snow had recently fallen over the area. So they dug and dug, for two days. 

And on that second day, nine days after the letter, Andy cried out with relief as her shovel struck a tarp.

She cried for the others, who rushed over and helped her dig it up. Wrapped in the tarp was the lifeless body of Nicky.

“Nicolo!” Joe cried, holding his love to him and sobbing into his motionless chest. He rocked with Nicky as Booker, Nile, and Andy dropped to their knees around them. 

He held Nicky until Nicky took a frightened gasp of breath, hands already coming up to try and claw away a tarp that was no longer there.

“Nicolo,” Joe said, cupping the back of his head. “It’s alright. It’s alright now. We’ve got you.”

“Are you real?” Nicky croaked out.

Joe made a pained noise. “Yes, my heart. I’m real. We all are. I’ve got you, Nicolo.”

Andy pulled her jacket off and draped it over Nicky’s shoulders carefully. She reached out and stroked his filthy hair.

“Nicky,” she said quietly. “Oh, Nicky. I’m so sorry.”

Andy could think of no words to describe the trauma Nicky had been through. Buried alive, wrapped in a tarp, dying over and over again for nine days.

The trauma made itself apparent as Nicky began to cry silently, pressing his face forcefully into Joe’s neck and grabbing onto Joe until his knuckles turned white. His whole body shook, shoulders heaving with silent sobs. 

“Nicolo, Nicolo,” Joe whispered, crying again himself, stroking Nicky’s hair, holding him as tightly as he could. 

Andy finally felt her own tears come as she touched Nicky’s back and felt him flinch beneath her hand. They had saved his body, but Quynh had gotten her revenge by damaging his mind.

#june of doom #june of doom 2023 #the old guard #nicolo di genova #yusuf al kaysani #joe x nicky #yusuf x nicolo #andromache the scythian #nile freeman #sebastien le livre #quynh the old guard #jtdoesjuneofdoom

[andithewhumper]

June of Doom Day 6:

“You’re doing great” | Injection | Nightmare | Duct Tape

Masterpost

Content: Needles, Past/Referenced Torture, Medical Torture, Trypanophobia

Whumpee had always been afraid of needles. Whumper had found out that weakness quickly. They loved using needles as punishments. They would leave them in for hours at a time or pretend they were doing acupuncture. When Caretaker had found them after Whumper, Whumpee thought it would be over. They thought they wouldn’t have to even think about needles ever again, but here they were.

“It’s only a quick injection. I promise it will be over before you even know it.” Caretaker had barely convinced them to go to the doctor in the first place, but after their cut had gotten infected they allowed it.

“Is this really necessary?” Whumpee muttered. They knew it was. A tetanus shot was absolutely needed after they had cut themselves on a rusty nail, but the knowledge of that did not help as the mounting terror filled their chest.

“You know it is. I know it’s scary but we need to make sure you don’t get sick. Okay, Whumpee?” Caretaker’s voice was soothing, but Whumpee could barely focus on it as the nurse prepared the needle.

“Do you want to hold my hand?” Caretaker asked. Whumpee nodded frantically and reached out to grasp at Caretaker. They squeezed their hands together and Caretaker gave a small wince at the pain. Not that Whumpee noticed. Their eyes were clamped shut.

The nurse came over and sent a knowing look to Caretaker.

“Alright, Whumpee,” the nurse said, “You’re going to feel something cold and then a quick pinch and then it will be over.” Whumpee didn’t respond. They just gave a small whimper and held onto Caretaker’s hand like their life depended on it.

Caretaker gave the nurse a small nod and the nurse began. Whumpee gave out a low whine as she applied the alcohol swap.

“It’s okay. You’re going great, Whumpee. You’re doing so good,” Caretaker soothed. Whumpee pressed their face into Caretaker’s shoulder, keeping their eyes closed.

“Alright I need you to relax your arm and then it will be over,” the nurse said softly.

Whumpee did, their heart pounding. They didn’t even feel the needle go in, but they certainly felt it come out. Whumpee held still until the nurse put on the bandage and then they launched themselves into Caretakers arms.

“It’s okay. You’re okay,” Caretaker whispered softly as they ran their hand up and down Whumpee’s back.

#whump #whumpee #whump prompt #caretaker #medical whump #needles #fear of needles #trypanophobia #june of doom

[hhabaddon]

June of Doom (Day 17)

Prompt list [here] || Previous / Next

Prompt(s); "Don't lie to me." | Accident | Doubt | Gaslighting

Enjoy! If this one looks a little different, it's because this one was done on my laptop! (finally)

TW // Abuse, gaslighting

----

"Don't lie to me," snarled Whumper, who was towering over a cowering Whumpee.

"I'm not!" cried Whumpee, tears dripping off their chin, “It really was an accident!”

Whumpee looked over at the broken glass beside them. They had been drying the dishes when one had slipped out of their hands, shattering on the tile floor. They were in the process of cleaning it up when Whumper arrived home.

Whumper scoffed at them, "You don't really think that, do you, Whumpee?"

Whumpee trembled under Whumper's glare. It was an accident!

"Obviously, you dropped that on purpose. To provoke me."

"No!" defended Whumpee, "It-"

Whumper cut them off, "You're crazy. I can't believe you'd break something. On purpose, too." Whumper shook their head at Whumpee, as if disappointed with them.

"And then," Whumper continued, eyebrows furrowing, "When I asked you what happened, you yelled at me."

"What," whispered Whumpee, "No, I-, You-!"

Had they really broken it on purpose?

"And now!" cried Whumper, "You're trying to gaslight me?"

Were they? They weren't trying to...

"No, I..." Whumpee looked down at the ground.

"I can't believe you, Whumpee." A tear dripped off Whumper's face, and landed on Whumpee's knee. "Clean this shit up. You deserve it."

Whumper walked out of the room. Whumpee tucked their head between their knees and cried.

Had they really done all that? They must really be a bad guy.

June of Doom Masterlist [here]

#writer #creative writer #creative writing #june of doom #ficddon #juneofdoom #whump #whumpee #writeblr #tw abuse #tw gaslighting #abused whumpee #whump prompts

[letthewhumpbegin]

Sorry - Shadow and Bone

Fandom: Shadow and Bone , Six of Crows Characters: Kaz Brekker, Jesper Fahey Prompt: this was written for @juneofdoom Day 27, prompt "I'm so sorry." Word count: 2254 Warnings: contains descriptions of panic attack (almost right from the start), blood, stab wound, passing out, drugging.

How do you treat injuries on a man who won't let you touch him? Who recoils in fear at the slightest brush of someone else against him?

That was exactly the kind of problem Jesper was faced with when he found Kaz, injured, bleeding and fully in the clutches of a panic attack, up in his chambers above the Crow Club.

The thief stood in the middle of the room, breathing hard, and bleeding quite profusely from a wound to the front of his right shoulder. Even the black coat and black gloves could not hide the amount of blood already staining Kaz's clothes and hands.

"What happened?" Jesper eyed his boss in worry. "Stabbed." The answer was strained and produced with much difficulty. Jesper immediately understood everything about this situation. A stabbing rarely occurred without any kind of physical contact, and therefore not only wounding Kaz's flesh, but also wounding him mentally.

Jesper knew he was in for a challenge now. It was quite easily determined that Kaz's wound could not be left untreated, but exactly how he would get Kaz to let him do that, was a completely mystery still to Jesper.

"Boss, you need to let me have a look at that." Jesper forced himself to remain calm and not mirror Kaz's panic. Kaz still stood in the middle of the room, his eyes pressed tightly shut, and doing his utter best to not completely lose control over himself. But even Jesper could see it was a losing battle. "Don't," Kaz growled under his breath. He swayed ominously on his feet, only held upright by the support of his trusted cane. The swift hand gesture was aimed at Jesper to keep his distance.

But Jesper wasn't letting this go. Either the blood loos or the panic attack would take Kaz out soon enough, but he would rather not stand by and wait until either of those sent Kaz crashing to the floor.

"Kaz, please," Jesper pleaded. All to no avail, although he hadn't really expected it to work. Jesper took a tentative step closer, and immediately wished he hadn't. Kaz reacted as if someone had already laid hands on him, and fled stumbling away across the room, coming to a stop only when the wall prevented him from going any further. There he stood, trembling and taking heaving breaths.

Jesper realised he was further away than ever from Kaz letting him come closer and have a look at that wound. "Boss..." He tried one last time. A plan took shape in his mind, but it was an evil one, and Jesper would hold off on putting that into motion for as long as he could. But so far Kaz wasn't leaving him much choice. This panic attack was the worst Kaz had had in a while, and probably for the first time ever, Jesper didn't know what to say or do to get Kaz to regain control over himself again.

"I said... d--don't..." Kaz growled through clenched jaws. He stood with his back turned to Jesper, both hands spread out wide against the wall to steady himself. Blood dripped from his clothes onto the floor now, and every muscle in his body either trembled or was tensed up to the max.

It was now or never, that much Jesper knew. He had no idea if his plan was going to work, but he had to try something. For Kaz's sake. Kaz would probably hate him for eternity for what he was about to do, but Jesper was willing to take that risk. A mad Kaz was always better than a dead Kaz.

Jesper reluctantly tore his eyes off his boss, and instead focused on the canteen of clear liquid sitting on the corner of Kaz's desk. The average visitor would assume it to be a bottle of liquor, but Jesper knew better. He had only seen it used once, by Inej. A few drops of that stuff on a handkerchief pressed over some guy's nose and mouth, and it was lights out for a few hours. Jesper wasn't quite sure what the liquid was, but he sure knew it was effective.

With fingers feeling like lead for what he was about to do, Jesper took a handkerchief from his pocket and poured a generous amount of the liquid onto the fabric. He had to be sure there was enough on there, because he would probably only get one shot at this.

Jesper slowly turned back to Kaz, handkerchief ready in one hand. It was a cruel kind of luck that Kaz was still completely in the clutches of his panic attack, otherwise Jesper would not have been able to sneak up on him like he did. As he got closer, Jesper could hear the strained, panicked wheezes of Kaz's breaths and saw how Kaz's entire frame shook like a leaf in the wind. "I'm sorry, boss." Jesper hesitated for just a second. "I'm so sorry for this."

The gunslinger moved fast. Almost as if drawing his gun, he whipped his arm around Kaz from behind, instantly pressing the handkerchief firmly over Kaz's mouth and nose.

As expected, Kaz reacted like a wild animal fighting for its life. He pushed himself off the wall, propelling himself back-first into Jesper's chest, and trying to twist out of the gunslinger's iron grip on him. But Jesper had been prepared for this. He didn't want to know how much trauma this raked up for Kaz, but Jesper convinced himself it was for the greater good and maintained the strong hold he had on Kaz's slender frame.

"Come on, Kaz," Jesper pleaded almost desperately, "take a deep breath, and this will all be over soon." Kaz still struggled in his arms, albeit a little less already, but Jesper had the distinct feeling Kaz was holding his breath. He wished nothing more than for this to be over. It pained him to see Kaz this panicked, but he also knew that leaving that wound untreated would probably not end well either. And while conscious, Kaz would surely not let anyone come near enough to treat it.

Relief washed over Jesper when Kaz suddenly gasped under his hand, no longer able to hold in his breath and inhaling a lungful of the fumes from the liquid.

Immediately, Jesper felt Kaz's body start to slack. "That's it," he encouraged, "come on, just a few more breaths." Kaz already didn't fight him anymore, and slowly his entire body went limp. When finally his knees buckled, Jesper quickly moved his arms to catch Kaz. He slowly and carefully moved the thief onto the floor, gently lying him down on his back.

Sitting on his knees beside his now unconscious boss, the weight of guilt already pressed down heavily on Jesper. Kaz would hate his guts for this, he was sure of it. "I'm so sorry," Jesper mumbled again, even though Kaz could impossibly hear him, "so sorry..."

Slowly, Jesper set to work on cleaning and treating Kaz's wound. It was a deep and nasty stab wound, but with proper treatment and rest it was nothing Kaz couldn't survive and heal from.

Jesper truly felt this was the last thing he would ever be allowed to do for Kaz. It was difficult for him to accept that this well-meant act possibly damaged his relationship with Kaz for good, but he would worry about that later. All that mattered for now was that Kaz received treatment, so Jesper silently and swiftly set to work...

---

In the end, Jesper could not get himself to leave until he was absolutely sure Kaz would wake up alright.

Kaz still lay on the floor, although no longer bleeding and now covered by his own coat to ensure he would stay warm. Jesper didn't have the heart to move him. Cleaning and patching up the wound to Kaz's shoulder, meant he had had to touch Kaz's skin much more than he was comfortable with. Not that Kaz had been conscious for any of it, but Jesper couldn't shake the mental picture of Kaz's agony and panic if he had been.

The first signs of Kaz's consciousness returning came a few hours after Jesper had finished treating the wound. He groaned softly, stirring slightly, but not fully moving yet. A flicker of the hearth fire reflected in his eyes as he slowly opened them.

Jesper had been biting his nails bloody while waiting for Kaz to wake up, but now that he saw his boss slowly regain consciousness, Jesper anxiously held his breath and sat deadly still, afraid of what was to come. He had folded himself up on a big leather armchair on the other side of the room, as far away from Kaz as possible, but still within range to see and hear if anything changed in Kaz's condition.

The silence was almost tangible and utterly unbearable until Kaz finally found enough consciousness to speak. "What did you do to me?" His voice sounded slurred and uncharacteristically fragile. Jesper had not moved an inch or made a sound, so how Kaz knew he was there, he didn't know.

Jesper swallowed hard before he spoke. "T--the canteen..." To his surprise, a dark, humorless chuckle rose up from somewhere deep inside Kaz's chest. "Good to know that stuff works," he mumbled sarcastically. "--What?" Jesper frowned, utterly confused now. Was Kaz not angry with him for violating his trust like he had done?

Kaz slowly moved himself onto his side, hissing violently when that made he had to move his injured shoulder. He propped himself up on one elbow, before dragging himself up into a seated position. The effort left him out of breath, in considerable pain and dizzy.

Kaz's eyes effortlessly found Jesper, even in the dimly lit room. The usual unreadable expression was back on Kaz's face, but Jesper, too, saw the vulnerability hiding underneath it. And they both knew Jesper had seen Kaz at his very most vulnerable tonight.

The silence Kaz allowed to fall as he stared at Jesper did nothing to ease the gunslinger's nerves. "So, you're... not..." Jesper stammered. Kaz ran a hand over his weary face, for the first time breaking his eye contact with Jesper. "I don't blame you for choosing to do what you did," he mumbled weakly, "one might even say I'm grateful." "You are?" Jesper unfurled himself and leaned forward in his seat, eyebrows raised in surprise. "Yes," Kaz answered, a self-loathing scowl playing on his face. "For obvious reasons."

Jesper didn't immediately speak, but knew this was Kaz's way of thanking him. "I'm still sorry for it," Jesper finally mumbled. Kaz smirked darkly. "I didn't enjoy it, if that's what you mean, but you did what you had to do." Kaz's hand hovered over his injured shoulder, and Jesper knew Kaz, too, was well aware of the treatment that had been necessary for the wound now neatly covered under bandages. "You didn't leave me much choice," Jesper answered a little uncomfortably still. "I'm well aware." Kaz closed his eyes. He looked only half conscious, feeling the after effects of the drug, the blood loos ánd his panic attack.

Suddenly, Kaz toppled sideways, slumping back onto the floor. Now Jesper was quick out of his seat and on his knees by Kaz's side, but mindful to keep the distance Kaz required.

"You alright, boss?" Jesper looked Kaz over in concern. Kaz was calm, but the general discomfort still radiated off of him. "No," Kaz breathed out, never raising his head off the carpeted floor. "Dizzy, pain..." "Well, you were stabbed and most likely lost over a pint of blood." Jesper spoke half mockingly in the way only he could. "You need rest. Even though that's a word you haven't much familiarity with."

Kaz huffed, but accepted defeat. No matter how much he hated it, he probably wouldn't be able to stand on his feet anyway. Saints, he couldn't even sit up without collapsing back onto the floor!

"Do you need help moving to a more comfortable spot?" Jesper asked softly. "No, I'm alright here for now," Kaz mumbled back. He knew Jesper meant well, but he couldn't bear the thought of anymore hands touching him. And without help or support, he surely wasn't able to move an inch. So, for now, he chose the floor. "Anything else you need?" Jesper watched Kaz slowly close his eyes. His boss' strength was rapidly giving out on him, whether Kaz wanted to or not.

Kaz took a while before responding, and Jesper actually suspected him to have slipped off into either sleep or unconsciousness. "Stay..." Kaz finally mumbled, barely audible, but Jesper heard it. "Sure," Jesper answered quietly, "I'm not going anywhere."

He would stay here with Kaz and watch over him, of course he would. Jesper moved back to the armchair. No matter how long Kaz wanted him to stay, Jesper would do so without protest. He watched Kaz lying on the floor on the other end of the room, the light from the hearth fire flickering across his face. The slow, deep breaths meant Kaz was at ease.

Kaz would be alright. They would be alright, Jesper knew that now. And even though he still felt a sting of guilt for what he had had to do, all that mattered now was that Kaz would be fine.

Writing masterlist Make a request from my prompts list

#shadow and bone #shadow and bone netflix #six of crows #shadow and bone fanfiction #six of crows fanfiction #kaz brekker #jesper fahey #freddy carter #kit young #kaz brekker fanfiction #whump writing #whump fanfiction #june of doom #juneofdoom #june of doom day 27 #fanfiction

[autobot2001]

"What's the bad news?"

@juneofdoom

Day 7 "What's the bad news?"

Whumpee has been missing for a week. At this point, Caretaker didn't want any news unless it was that Whumpee was found unless they were dead. Then maybe they don't want to hear that Whumpee was found. They also worry how injured Whumpee would be once they're found. Caretaker knows they can't avoid hearing about Whumpee forever. If Whumpee was found, they'd wonder where Caretaker is.

Caretaker is terrified to hear about Whumpee, and a knock on the door scares them. They open the door, seeing an officer. "We found them," the officer says. "What's the bad news?" "Other than they were unconscious, I don't know the extent of their injuries. They've been taken to the hospital." Caretaker thanks the officer, and the officer leaves. Caretaker isn't sure if they should go to the hospital. They aren't family or married to Whumpee. They love whumpee but never told them.

"Excuse me? I'm a friend of whumpee." "Sorry, all I have here is they were brought to the emergency department twenty minutes ago." "Ok, thanks." Caretaker sits in the waiting room, hoping a doctor will tell them something soon, even though they're worried it'll be bad news.

An hour passes before a nurse enters the waiting room, looking for Caretaker. They bring Caretaker somewhere private, which scares Caretaker.

"You were the emergency contact on Whumpee's phone," the nurse explains. "Oh? I'm just a friend. I can give you the contact information for their parents." "That would be nice, but you have the right to know what's going on, as it seems Whumpee wanted you to know if anything happened to them." "H-how are they?" The burse hated how scared Caretaker was to ask the question. This was one part of their job that never gets easy. Caretaker is horrified hearing the extent of whumpee's injuries. Even if most seem minor compared to the head injury and being in a coma. The doctors don't know when whumpee will wake up, which adds to the uncertainty after whumpee wakes up. For now, whumpee is stable, and it's a waiting game.

Caretaker hates seeing Whumpee in a coma. They knew that meant Whumpee would be on a ventilator, but they worry about the EEG running. They know this means the brain injury is serious enough to need to monitor brain activity. Caretaker has no idea what the test is showing now. Hoping it's good news. Caretaker hates calling Whumpee's family but knows they have to.

Within twenty minutes, the room is packed with Whumpee's parents and siblings, the medical team caring for Whumpee, and Caretaker. The family and Caretaker know the medical team has to tell them the worst outcome, but they hate it. It's not a comfort to know the medical team can't predict the likelihood of each outcome presented. Especially while Whumpee could be in a coma for weeks. All they can do is hope for a full recovery.

To be continued…

#whump #wumpee #caretaker #injury #critical #head injury #june of doom #june of doom 2023 #bad news

[juneofdoom]

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]

#juneofdoom #whump writing #whump stuff #summer of whump #whump things #whump prompts #writing prompts #whump #masterpost #writing challenge #june of doom #events #whump event #whump community #masterlist

[cricket-reader]

Broken Promises

Masterlist | A03 | Wattpad | Recommendations | Inbox | Taglist

Summary: the asset had promised you that he would save you, that he’d come back for you if he ever managed to escape. He didn’t come back for you. Something that both of you needed to work through if you ever wanted to heal.

Warnings: language, Bucky’s negative thoughts and self-hatred, miscommunication, captivity, Hydra, fluff

Word Count: 1672

Prompt: "Say something." | Rescue | Broken Promise | Weak

A/N: Day 13 of June of Doom by @juneofdoom

I’ll come back for you.

I’ll never leave you here alone.

I promise.

You should have known better than to listen to promises from a person that couldn’t even remember his own name. Any reprieve from this treacherous life was welcomed, though. So you dared to hope. You stupidly dared to dream that there was a life outside of those bleak, dreary walls.

You heard about the Asset’s escape. A new hope lit a flame in your chest. He was going to come back for you. He was going to save you from the treacherous claws of Hydra.

As the months went by, however, your flame began to flicker out. He wasn’t coming. He forgot about you. He didn’t care enough to save you, maybe. Whatever the reason, you were stuck there. No one was coming to save you.

You couldn’t really find it in yourself to blame him. In your mind, you weren’t worth saving. He probably didn’t want to come back anyway. You sure as hell wouldn’t want to come back if you got out. You’d like to at least think that you would have come back for the Asset were you in his place, though.

But this isn’t what would you do. This is what would he do. Because you were still trapped and the Asset was free. In what would he do, saving you wasn’t a part of his plan. Clearly.

Briefly, you wondered if he could remember his name now that he was out of the metaphorical frying pan. You hoped he was. You hoped he was recovering. Because he deserved it.

You were not expecting to be saved. So when a dark skinned man burst into your room and led you to safety, you were overwhelmed. Someone had actually saved you. They risked their life for you.

But it wasn’t who you wanted it to be.

It was stupid. You didn’t have time to be picky. Whoever saved you, saved you and that should be enough. However, you couldn’t help but feel gutted. You thought you gave up on the hope that the Winter Soldier would come back for you a long time ago. The empty feeling inside of you said otherwise.

When they began therapy, you realised how weak you were. You couldn’t eat large portions without expelling it afterwards. You could barely walk without assistance, too busy trembling from malnutrition to be useful. You hated every step of recovery. Maybe you hated it so much because you thought that it would be you and the Soldier going through the aftermath together. In the cells when you daydreamed of a life beyond the walls you were kept in, you had thought he’d be there to support you every step of the way. But you were alone.

Sam wanted to beat Bucky up. It wasn’t an odd feeling, but this urge was stronger than usual. He understood when Bucky told him that he couldn’t go back to the place he was held in captivity. He understood that.

He couldn’t bring himself to understand why the hell he was being so chicken-shit about going and seeing you.

It was clear that he wanted to. Pacing in the hallway outside of your room, standing in the doorway for hours upon end, sitting right outside your door and never leaving. Bucky was just too scared to actually make it past the door to your room. Sam had unsuccessfully tried to “accidentally” push him in the room when he would stand in front of it multiple times.

It was really starting to get on his nerves.

One day, Bucky was napping in one of the uncomfortable waiting room chairs outside your room as he often did. Sam, absolutely fed up with his friend being a love-sick fool, too chicken shit to do anything, decided to push him into the room. It didn’t work.

Needless to say, even with his incredible strength, Sam was no match for a super soldier.

One of the nurses noticed what Sam was trying to do and decided to help. They got him into a wheelchair and wheeled him into the room. Sam dragged the exhausted super soldier out of the wheelchair and into one of the seats near your bed.

Sam thanked the nurse as they wheeled the wheelchair away. The nurse just shrugged, saying that they were tired of it too.

Sam followed the nurse out of the room, leaving the two of you alone.

When you woke up, you weren’t expecting to see anyone in your room. Much less the very man that had broken his promise and left you to pick up the shattered pieces.

You wanted to be happy. You really did. But how could you when he had torn away every last shred of hope you held onto? How could you ever forgive him for lying, for breaking his promises?

He looked good. Healthy even. You were happy for him. You really were. But you couldn’t help that ugly feeling of envy that crawled its way up your throat. It wasn’t fair. Not by a long shot. You knew it, hell he probably knew it too.

You sat in silence for what felt like hours before the man beside you finally came to. He jumped up, on edge because he didn’t recognise his surroundings. His entire body froze, seeing that you were in front of him. You looked at him before looking back out the window.

Bucky mentally cursed. You had seen him. He couldn’t just walk away and pretend it never happened… or could he? No! No, he couldn’t. That wouldn’t be fair to you. “Hey,” he said, scuffing the bottom of his shoe against the pristine tile.

“Uh… I meant to come see you sooner… I really did.”

He wanted to hear your voice again. He missed you so much. All those achingly long nights where his nightmares formed the most horrendous images of you being tortured without him there to protect you. It drove him mad. He tried to find you on his own, but he failed. He had to ask for help and he would do it again in a heartbeat if it meant you were safe; he despised asking for help, but he’d do anything for you.

“I’ve been here since you were admitted… I just… I couldn’t bring myself to… to come in and see you. Someone must’ve… they must’ve gotten me in here somehow…”

He was just saying nonsense at that point. Anything to fill the void. You hadn’t looked back at him. Your head still turned to face the window. He couldn’t blame you. Not really. He would hate him too if he were you. Hell, he does hate himself.

“I know I’m probably the last person you wanna see.” He had tears begging to be released in his eyes. He needed to hear you. He didn’t care if all you did was cuss him out or yell at him. Anything to hear your voice.

“Say something. Please…”

Your heart cracked, hearing his broken voice. Tears had already began to stream down your face. “You promised…”

His heart skipped a beat. He didn’t actually think you would say anything. He was convinced that you’d just give him the silent treatment. That, of course, would have been fine with him. He deserved it after all he had put you through.

“Why didn’t you come back for me?” You had to know. Although you wanted nothing to do with him and simultaneously wanted to wrap him in your arms and never let go, you just had to know one thing. The question you had wondered ever since that flame inside of you was snuffed out.

Bucky winced. In all honesty, he should have known that question was coming. It didn’t make it hurt any less, though. “I… it sounds so stupid, but I tried. I really did, doll. I spent months trying to remember where they kept you, hacking into all kinds of files—so much so that I probably would have been arrested if I didn’t cover my tracks. But I didn’t care because I needed to find you. You’ve gotta understand…”

He took a breath. “As soon as I remembered you, I did everything I could to find you. After years of searching I finally asked for help… that just goes to show how fucking desperate I was, god.” He ran his hands through his hair, starting to pace back and forth.

“I—I couldn’t bring myself to go get you. I had Sam do it with Torres because I was scared. I was a fucking coward! And you deserve so much more. I didn’t… I just didn’t feel worthy enough to save you.”

At this point, you turned to see his tear-streaked face. He continued pacing, not even noticing that you were finally looking at him.

“You had been waiting so long and I.. I failed you. I had taken too long to find you, and I was terrified that you’d hate me as much as I hate myself. But what really terrified me was the thought that you hadn’t made it. That I would get there and you’d be a bloody mess, cold and lifeless on the ground.

“My nightmares for the longest time had been filled with you dying because of me. I couldn’t bear to see it in real life.”

“Winter…” you croaked, heartbroken at his revelation. His head whipped over to your body, lying on the hospital bed and covered with yellowing bruises.

“It’s Bucky,” he sheepishly corrected.

A smile was brought to your face, and Bucky found himself thinking that he’d do anything to see that smile more often. “You remembered?”

He nodded his head, tears still dripping down his cheeks. “I did, I remember a lot now. While it’s not always a good thing, I thank every god above that I remembered you before it was too late.”

You felt heat rising to your face. “You’re still such a simp.”

“Yeah,” he chuckled, “but I’m your simp.”

Taglist: @harleycao

#marvel fanfiction #mcu fanfiction #mcu fic #avengers fanfiction #domestic avengers #avengers angst #avengers fluff #mcu whump #marvel fic #marvel fanfic #june of doom #james bucky buchanan barnes #winter soldier x reader #bucky angst #bucky barnes x reader #bukcy barnes #james bucky barnes #bucky barnes one shot #bucky barns x reader #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes x reader fluff #bucky fanfic #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fan fiction #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky fluff #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes oneshot

[hurtmyfavsthanks]

June of Doom day 23

 “how many fingers am I holding up?” (poison/rash/double cross)

Villain heard the moment Hero dropped, their body making a dull thump as they fell to the ground. They were limp when Villain arrived, pupils blown wide and eyes opened to mere slits. They wouldn’t be coherent again for several hours. They wouldn’t be conscious at all in a few minutes. Villain had made sure the dose would be strong enough to work quickly.

“I’m sorry about this. I know this isn’t what you wanted,” Villain whispered, knowing that Hero couldn’t hear them. They knew it was wrong, a total betrayal of trust that Hero would never forgive. They’d become close over the months, spending much of their time outside of uniform together. When the capes were off, they weren’t supposed to do things like this, interfering with each others’ plans. And yet here Villain was, betraying that trust and drugging Hero so they couldn't fly off and save the day. 

It was selfish and Villain didn’t expect to be forgiven, but they didn’t regret the decision either. The upcoming raid on Supervillain was a suicide mission with no chance of success, and no amount of Hero’s optimisation would make that less true. Villain had told them as much, had shouted and yelled until their face turned blue, and yet it seemed that nothing they said got through to Hero. 

Carefully, Villain lifted Hero into their arms. Hero groaned at the touch, eyes opening marginally but never focusing on Villain’s face. "I won't let you die, I won't let you become a martyr," Villain promised. They carried Hero up to their shared bedroom, opening the closet and rummaging until they found one of Hero's uniforms. After a whispered apology, Villain made quick work of forcing Hero into their uniform, making sure their mask was firmly in place. They couldn't let Hero's agency think their identity was compromised after all.

With Hero dressed, Villain made quick work of dressing themselves. From there, it was easy for Villain to use their powers to teleport the two of them to an old hideout. It was easy to bind Hero's limp body to a chair, to set them up like a prop for a show. And it was a show, because they wouldn't allow Hero's reputation to be tarnished by an unexplained disappearance on the eve of battle. 

As they began recording the hostage video, Villain gave a wicked grin and prayed it hid the sadness in their eyes. “I suppose you’re all wondering where your precious Hero is, yes?”

#does it count as poison if it isn't meant to kill??? #idk idk #hero whumpee #villain whumper #reluctant whumper #drugged whumpee #for their own good #sedation whump #whump #june of doom #june of doom day 23 #my stuff #hero x villain

[chaotic-orphan]

June of Doom, Day Twenty-nine:

It’s really not that big of a deal: bruises // secrets // acceptance

CW: bruises, implied abuse, abuse of power, unaware victim, unaccepting victim, beating, aftermath of beating, concerned caretaker, extreme whumper, gaslighting, blood, punishment, unfair treatment of Whumpee,

Extremely unedited, i am currently s-i-c-k… so I wrote it and didn’t want to tag but now I have time to tag, yaaayyyy

P.s. if there’s any tags I missed please tell me my brain is dying <3

*~*~*~*~*

It was two pathetic knocks on Villain’s door that roused them from sleep. Followed by another weak one and then there was a heavy thud against their door. Villain was out of bed after the first knock, bare feet hitting hard wood and padding out to the living room in their apartment. They grabbed their gun from table beside the door when they heard the thud and peeked out the peephole into the empty stairwell. They clicked the safety off and quietly drew back the hammer.

Frowning, they left the chain lock on the slider and unlocked the door, positioning themselves into the crook of the opening and pulling the door open. It flung open and Villain aimed the barrel at the floor to the figure slumped there.

A very bloody Hero.

Villain blinked back the sleep in their eyes, but they were right the first time. They cursed and closed the door again, sliding the chain off the latch and opening it again. They clicked the hammer back, put the safety on their gun and placed it on the table again before bending down to their crumbled Hero.

“Hero? Hey, Hero,” Villain said, snapping their fingers in front of Hero’s eyes. They got a minuscule moan in reply and Villain cursed to themselves. They put an arm around Hero’s shoulders, the other under Hero’s knees and hoisted them up.

Hero’s eyes sprung open, gasping cradling their side and hunching in on themselves. “Hey! Hey, Hero. It’s okay. It’s me. It’s Villain. I’m just taking you inside, okay?”

“V—Villain, I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I didn’t know where else to go, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered against Villain’s chest and Villain shushed them as they closed the door to their apartment. Trying to pretend that Hero’s ragged breathing wasn’t pulling at every heartstring, and gently lay Hero on their couch. “No! No, I’m bleeding… the couch… it’ll— agh, s-stain,” Hero protested but Villain put a firm hand on Hero’s shoulder to keep them lying down.

“I can clean the couch, Hero,” said Villain softly. “It’s really not that big of a deal. You’re more important.”

Hero opened their mouth to protest again, but before any words could come, Hero grimaced, clenching their teeth as they held their side, fingers digging into their waist.

“I’ll get ice,” Villain said after a quick once over. Hero’s clothes weren’t bloody (except from the obvious blood dripping down Hero’s forehead and nose) but the rest was most likely some bad bruising. Villain stood and walked around the couch into the kitchen, calling back to Hero. “Tell me what happened.”

Villain looked into the freezer and only saw a half empty tub of vanilla ice cream and three gel ice packs. Villain took the ice packs, leaving the ice cream a shut the door. They stopped at the sink on the way back, wetting a clean towel and walking to Hero who was still trying to sit up.

“Stay still,” Villain said, “you’re obviously hurt.”

“I’m fine,” Hero denied, but recanted after the deadpan stare from Villain. “Okay. I’m not fine.”

“Can I take your jacket off?” Villain asked, setting everything down on the coffee table.

Hero smiled. “So forward of you Villain.”

Villain smiled back. “You’re bleeding on my couch, Hero, I think we’re past the dinner date phase.”

“Fair enough,” Hero laughed, then stopped with a wince. Villain set their jaw and stood, trying to remove Hero’s jacket as gently as possible.

Hero’s arms were always a shock to Villain. Littered with so many different scars and bruises and burns at any give time, and Hero used them as if they weren’t damaged at all. Continued with their life as if they didn’t even notice they were hurt. Sometimes Villain wondered if Hero even felt the pain anymore, and was kind enough to not ask about the several deepest cuts on Hero’s wrist.

There were certain lines they never crossed with Hero. Some secrets that were still their own… despite the recent blurring of lines between friendship and enemies Hero and Villain had been towing.

“What happened?” Villain asked again, breaking the gel ice pack and handing it to Hero. Hero took it gladly, pressing it against their abdomen while Villain cracked another to activate it and glanced up at Hero for permission to help them.

“My… my ribs, I can—“

“I can too,” Villain told them and Hero bit their lip before nodding and pointing at the sorest spot. When Villain pressed the ice pack to it Hero jerked away, hissing sharply.

“Villain. Villain. Wait— ow! Ow! Ow! Okay. Okay! We switch, okay?” Hero howled, dropping the ice pack on their abdomen and grabbing the one by their ribs with the opposite hand. Tears were in their eyes, so Villain didn’t fight them on their pain. A shaky hand went over Villain’s and Hero said: “it’s okay. I got it.”

So Villain let go and sat back on the coffee table, clasping their hands between their thighs and levelling Hero with a pointed stare.

“Superhero put me on 1st tonight,” Hero began. 1st being the rich quarter of the city with the banks and the businesses and the Hero tower as it’s shining jewel. “I told them I knew the dregs better but they refused, put Other Hero there instead,” Hero grumbled and Villain had to smile at the disdain colouring Hero’s voice.

Other Hero was a fanciful prick at best of times and dangerously incompetent at their worst. Which was all the time.

“So I went on patrol on 1st, and Other Villain appeared for the first time in two months since they blew the warehouse at the docks,” Hero told them and Villain nodded, remembering the burns on Hero’s arms after they rushed in headfirst to save a ship worker. “I reported it and Superhero told me to give chase so I did.”

“Did other Villain do this to you?” Villain asked, voice hard, eyes narrowing. Hero shook their head, and a drop of blood fell onto their cheek. Villain reached forward with the wet towel and brushed it away. Hero’s eyes widened marginally as they glanced at Villain’s gentle hand, then to Villain’s face.

Villain found Hero’s eyes and their breath caught in their throat at the pure openness of Hero. They remembered reading somewhere that the eyes were the windows to the soul, and if so, then Hero was the best person Villain had ever known.

“Did Other Villain—“ Villain began again, but Hero smiled a little sadly and said: “no.”

“No, they got away. Fled into sixth, but I’m pretty sure I stopped whatever destructive plan they had for the night so that’s a bonus at least.”

Villain frowned as they wiped the blood from Hero’s upper lip and leaned back on the coffee table. “So who did this to you?”

Hero didn’t say anything. Though they did gasp when the wet towel touched the bruise on their cheekbone. Villain wiped at the small cut in the centre of it, while Hero avoided any and all eye contact.

Villain nodded silently, pursing their lips slightly and sitting back on the coffee table again. They grabbed the spare icepack and stood, walking to the kitchen.

“Do you like vanilla ice cream?” Villain asked, pausing at the doorframe and glancing back at Hero. Hero peeked over the couch with confused eyes.

“What?”

“I have a tub of vanilla ice cream in the freezer. You want some?”

Hero let out a short huff of laughter. “Umm. Sure.”

“Okay then.”

Villain got to work. They put the bloody towel into the sink, the last ice pack into the freezer and took the tub of vanilla out. They grabbed two spoons and walked back to Hero, sitting down again on the coffee table and opening the tub with a swift and comforting clack clack clack to fill the silence.

Hero gestured with their elbows uselessly and Villain looked down at the spoon in their hand, then back to Hero’s occupied hands pressing the ice packs to their abs and ribs. Villain looked back at the spoon, then dug it into the ice cream and got a decent sized scoop before bringing the spoon to Hero’s closed lips.

Hero laughed then winced, and said: “you’re going to feed me?”

Villain threw their free hand in the air, a helpless gesture. “If you don’t eat it it’ll melt and you’ll be wearing it.”

“Okay,” Hero said with a smile and opened their mouth wide enough for Villain to put the spoon into Hero’s mouth. Villain swallowed as if they were the one eating ice cream, and drew it back out, going back to get another scoop.

They raised it again and Hero shook their head with that same smile that made something warm flutter in Villain’s chest and said: “no, no. You now.”

Villain glanced at the spoon, the same one Hero had just eaten off, and put it in their mouth. Hero’s eyes crinkled at the sides when they rested their head back against the arm rest of the couch.

Then their expression melted into one of sadness, their eyes going to the ceiling. They bit their cheek, then said so quietly Villain nearly missed it:

“Superhero did this,” they said and Villain paused mid scoop. Their head snapped to Hero who was still staring at the ceiling. “When I reported that Other Villain fell out of my jurisdiction and handed it to Other Other Hero in 6th, Superhero called me to their office. So I went, knowing I was going to be punished for letting them—“

“Punished?” Villain repeated, tightening their grip on the spoon in the ice cream.

Hero just nodded, their throat bobbing as they swallowed hard.

“Punished for— for what?!” Villain demanded hotly.

Hero just kept staring at the ceiling.

“For not catching Other Villain. I should have been faster. Should have been better as Superhero’s protégé,” Hero spat the last word. “I let them down. Embarrassed them by being useless. So I get punished for letting them go.”

“You didn’t let them go!” Villain protested, slamming the tub of ice cream onto the coffee table. Hero finally — finally — looked at them. “They left your jurisdiction! It was another Hero’s job to catch them.”

“To pick up my slack—“

“No!” Villain yelled, and Hero flinched. Villain let out a long sigh, running their hands through their hair to try and calm down. This was barbaric, how could Hero be so okay with this? This treatment? Villain’s eyes widened at the realisation, shock colouring their voice as they whispered: “it’s not the first time, is it?”

Hero’s eyes shuttered close, letting out a shaky breath of their own. That was all the confirmation Villain needed.

“Fuck. Fuck! Hero! How long? How long have they been beating you?”

“It was apart of my training,” Hero confessed. “It wasn’t physical punishments at first… they just told me to do extra reps of push-ups, pull-ups, extra ten minutes on the treadmill. To make me stronger, make me fast, build my stamina. Then one day I couldn’t bench the weight Superhero gave me and— and I told them it was too much…”

“Hero,” Villain whispered, reaching forward and putting their hand over Hero’s on their abs. They just needed to touch them, to show them that they were they for them.

Hero shook their head, tears streaming down their cheeks as they continued: “they… they spotted the weight and told me to put my knuckles back on my collarbones so I did, while Superhero put an extra weight on either side of the bar… I was so scared that I just lay there, waiting…

Then Superhero put the bar back down on my hands and it crushed me. I tried to push it up, but I couldn’t, it was too heavy, too heavy for me and the more it stayed there the harder it got to breathe and my whole body was shaking… Superhero just watched me from above, this look of utter… utter disgust. I was trying to make them proud, and I was disappointed them no matter what I did… they left me there until I was able to push the bar up myself and get myself out and when I did they were so proud.”

Hero cut themselves off with a sudden burst of sobs and Villain tightened their hand on Hero’s. They felt so… so useless. How do you react to that? How you do even begin comforting someone who’s been through that.

“That was only the beginning,” Hero sniffed, “after that Superhero started beating me personally, called it sparring. Training, to make me better before my debut. To make me unstoppable. And I still let them down to this day.”

The look Hero gave Villain shook Villain to their core. The desperation on their gear stained face, the puffiness of their eyes and the steeled determination behind them.

“I just want to be good, Villain. I just want to do good and make them happy, but I’m useless. I’m pathetic. I can’t even stop one villain! I deserve this. I deserve this, I don’t deserve your kindness,” Hero said sniffing, pushing Villain’s hand away and sitting up with a grunt of pain. Villain tried to get them to lay back down again but Hero held up a hand and said: “don’t.”

“Hero, please. Let me help you. Superhero is psychopathic! You don’t deserve to be treated like that! Please, please just— just stay the night. We can talk more in the morning, okay? Not even about this is you like.”

“No Villain, I need to—“ Hero winced as they put their feet on the ground. Villain lunged to catch them and right them again.

Villain took Hero’s chin in their hand and tilted their head up to look at them. Hero was breathing heavy from the sudden exertion and stabbing pain.

“You know what Superhero is doing is wrong. Otherwise you wouldn’t have come here, Hero,” Villain said softly, raising their other hand to Hero’s cheek and stroking a thumb under Hero’s eye, catching a stray tear that was about to fall. “You wouldn’t have come to let me help you, so let me help. I won’t ask again, I’ll just keep you here against your will. So please, stay. Just for tonight.”

Hero leaned into Villain’s hand, their soft, gentle touch and let out a sigh of defeat. “Okay,” Hero whispered and Villain smiled.

They reached a hand down and helped Hero to their feet. “Wait, Villain—“

“You’re sleeping on the bed, I’ll grab the couch.”

“No, agh, Villain—“

“No arguing Hero, I won’t change my mind.”

Hero was tired, so they walked with Villain to the bedroom and allowed themselves to be taken care of, for just one night.

#June of doom #writblr #hero villain writing #hero villain snippet #hero villain story #hero #villain #writing prompt #writing #hero villain prompt #prompt challenge #hero x villain #villain x hero #villain caretaker #hero whumpee #superhero whumper #whump writing #Whump Drabble #whumpblr #whump #emotional whump #whump scenario #whumpee #implied Whump #past Whump #bruises #hurt/comfort #on this blog? #crazy #orphan writing

[hadesstan]

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.

#whump #whump drabble #whump writing #june of doom #whumpee #whumper #villain caretaker #hero whumpee #villain x hero #hero villain whump

[much-obliged-timothy]

June of Doom #11

Devil May Cry - #11 - Firearm

*

“Watch your back,” Nero said, stabbing a demon that had been trying to sneak up on Vergil.

Vergil grit his teeth. “If I’m watching my back, I’m not watching the ones attacking in front. Or from the sides. Or even from above.”

“Yea, yea, we’re surrounded,” Nero said, swinging his sword in a rough arc to smack away a few more of the small yet fierce demons attacking them. 

They’d been hired to deal with the infestation, but it was much worse than they’d imagined. Vergil didn’t want to admit that he was growing tired, but he knew it was starting to show in his reduced speed and his weaker swings. He’d been working a job all day yesterday with Dante. Dante was sleeping off an injury, so Nero had offered to come along for this job. 

Vergil had no time to rest before coming out here. He swiped sweat from his forehead before deftly dodging an attack and stabbing three demons in quick succession.

He felt like no matter how many he killed, more just kept coming. It was like a never ending horde of the damn things. 

It didn’t seem to bother Nero, who was rested and ready to fight. He leapt about, slashing and shooting at demons, seeming to enjoy himself. At times, Vergil was fairly certain the boy was just trying to show off, but he was too focused on keeping himself going to bother lecturing Nero about it. 

Vergil raised the Yamato to deflect a demon leaping at him. But, as Nero had warned, he was not watching his back.

A sharp pain ran down his arm before it went numb and he dropped the Yamato in surprise. One of the demons had viciously slashed Vergil’s arm, blood pouring down from the dangerously deep gash tearing down it. 

Nero was there in a flash, sword piercing the demon and flinging its corpse off Vergil. “Vergil?”

“I’m fine.” He reached for his sword, realized he still couldn’t feel his hand, and lifted it in his nondominant hand. 

“Yea, fine,” Nero said, raising an eyebrow. “You can’t keep up like this, Vergil.”

“I’ll be fine,” Vergil said firmly. “I’ve fought in worse condition.”

Nero had no more time to argue with Vergil as another onslaught came at them and they were separated trying to keep themselves alive. Vergil felt frustration gnawing at him as he struggled to keep up with the demons now. He was slower than usual and down his dominant arm. He couldn’t keep this up much longer before mistakes slipped in.

“Vergil!”

Vergil spun just in time to see the weapon thrown his way. He sheathed Yamato and caught the weapon in a quick motion.

A gun. He shot Nero a look.

“Easier than a sword,” Nero said, his own gun out as he fired on the demons. “Quicker, too. But it’s one I was carrying for Nico, so don’t damage it or you’ve gotta pay for it.”

Nero’s gun did seem to be making quicker work of the demons than their swords had. Perhaps this one time, he’d allow the use of such a weapon.

“Nero,” he said.

Nero didn’t have to be told; he ran to Vergil’s side as if this was their hundredth time doing this, not their first. They pressed back to back, aiming their guns as the demons changed course and charged at them.

Vergil rolled his shoulders in preparation, finger tightening on the trigger. “Jackpot.”

They began to fire, maneuvering together with an ease that was surprising given their limited experience in combat together. Vergil found he could easily predict Nero’s movements and adapt to them to cover Nero’s weak points.

As the final demon fell dead, Vergil lowered the gun. The feeling was starting to come back into his arm, making it tingle. He passed the gun back to Nero.

“Hey, what was up with that? Jackpot, I mean. Sounded like some kinda corny catchphrase,” Nero said.

Vergil had to turn so Nero would not see the color rising in his cheeks. He’d forgotten Nero didn’t know about that. It had just felt so natural to be back to back with Nero, that it had slipped out.

“Nothing,” he said. “We should go.”

Nero shrugged it off. “Yea, sure. Let me tend to that wound, first. You're getting blood everywhere.” 

Vergil had no desire for Nero to take care of his wound, but Nero insisted. Vergil was too tired to fight about it, and eventually sat down, offering his injured arm to Nero.

Nero wrapped it carefully, a grin coming to his face as he did so. “I recall you being judging towards guns. Not such a bad option after all, huh?”

“Shut up,” Vergil said. “Or I’ll consider their use in silencing you.”

Nero snickered. “Sure, Vergil. Might as well hold on to this for now; might be more demons crawling about.”

Vergil glared but took the gun because, yes, it was helpful. In this one situation, at least.

Nero stood and offered his hand to Vergil. After a moment, Vergil took it.

He opened his mouth, something in him suddenly wanting to tell Nero all about the meaning behind jackpot. Wanting to train more with the boy because they worked surprisingly well together.

But then he closed it slowly. There was no need to tell Nero about any of that; actions spoke louder than words.

And so when they came across the next horde, Vergil moved right to Nero’s side, their guns drawn without having to speak to each other.

#june of doom #june of doom 2023 #devil may cry #Nero Sparda #Vergil Sparda #dmc nero #dmc vergil #dadgil #jtdoesjuneofdoom