June Of Doom Day 9

June of Doom Day 9

"I should have listened to you"

| Sprain | Defiant | Smoke |

Cw: threats, aggravating injury, creepy whumper

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

"I'll never beg you, psychopath!"

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

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

June of Doom Day 14

"What were you thinking?"

| Slurred Speech | Impalement | Fight |

Cw: The prompts above

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

...

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

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

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

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

"Time to get you to a hospital."

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

Praise Whump

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"You're doing so good, Whumpee."

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

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

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

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

He needed Whumpee ready and healed for their next session.

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

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

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

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

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

June of Doom Day 8

"Breathe, damn you!"

| Shock | Amputation | Infection |

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

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

...

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

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

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

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

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

"Whumper?" they whimpered, their voice hoarse.

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

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

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

June of Doom Day 4

"Does that hurt?"

| Delirium | Hypothermia | Stabilisation |

CW: mentions of abuse and the tags above obvs

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

...

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

They'd escaped Whumper, but at what cost?

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

Whumpee was muttering as Caretaker tried to warm them up.

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

Whumpee whined. "Please no. No more."

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

"Please, I'll be good."

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

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

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

"Rest Whumpee."

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

June of Doom Day 2

"Get in"

| Sobbing | Survivors Guilt | Salve |

Cw: Death, Kidnapping, manhandling

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

...

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

Whumper had been delighted.

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

Whumpee had just sobbed.

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

Caretaker was dead.

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

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

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

"Get in."

Whumpee shook their head.

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

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

"None of that now Whumpee, get in."

"Kill me instead."

"What?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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