digital-nova

[digital-nova]

not the cold and flu kind of sickness, but the corrupting kind. decaying roots, deep poisons, spiraling hallways and madness and yellow and strained weak breathing. what's real and what's the fever? are you ill or are they killing you, are you rotting from the inside out? there is something in you and it wants to be free. coughing black ink instead of blood and it tastes like a haunting. a curse with no cure. a malady that says "i don't feel well" and means "i don't feel human anymore".

[digital-nova]

Whumpee clinging to the stranger who saved them. Overwhelmed with relief because someone was kind, someone wanted to help them. They’ve never been handled with this much care and they’re desperate for it.

[digital-nova]

I’m not going to give in this time. At last, I feel like I’d actually gathered a bit of myself back. I feel like I have achieved something. I feel— victorious. Although it is not a typical scene of victory: I lie here, gasping for air, blood beneath my nails and sweat across my face. It’s dirty, downright disgusting, but it’s sacred.

‘Darling, you’re shaking.’

Always patient, always understanding. Comforting. Her tone makes makes my throat burn with rage. Perhaps if she wasn’t so gentle, if she reduced me to a sobbing messing at her feet, she would be easier to hate, and I would be able to keep myself from melting in her hands the way I always do. But she is gentle.

‘How about we clean you up and get you to bed, hm?’

It doesn’t sound so terrible when she says it like that— after all, I’m not used to being so disgusting. I want to be clean. Anger spikes in me again as I remember why I’ve ruined myself like this, but before I can react to it, she takes me into her arms and soothes my thoughts away. I nuzzle the crook of her neck, the warmth sending me shivering. I can’t unlatch myself from her— she’s too warm, too soft, too gentle. She holds me as though I am delicate and deserving, and I can’t hold back my tears. It is all too perfect.

‘Poor darling— I know, I know.’

You’ll never let me go, will you?

‘Of course not.’

[digital-nova]

DAILY AFFIRMATIONS

1. I AM A GOOD LITTLE LAB EXPERIMENT

2. MY SUFFERING IS FOR THE GREATER GOOD

3. THE SCIENTIST THAT EXPERIMENTS ON ME LOVES ME UNCONDITIONALLY

4. I LOVE GOING INTO THE TUBE/JAR/INSERT RELEVANT APPARATUS OF CONTAINMENT

Reblog to share with your friends who are also Scientific specimens🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗🤗

[digital-nova]

Clinical Trials

@medwhumpmay Day 12 (Alt)

Medwhump May Masterlist

content: lab whump, multiple whumpees, drugging, angst, sickfic, whumpee turned caretaker

-

Lips pursed shut, Caretaker shook Whumpee awake, kneeling by their cot. They were looking worse and worse by the day, and he was increasingly worried that one day soon they wouldn’t wake up at all.

He would do anything for that not to happen.

“Caretaker?” they slurred, one eye half-open, curled in the center of their cot. “What’s going on? Lemme sleep. Hurts to be awake.”

In response, he opened his mouth and spit the contents into his hand: a small blue-and-orange pill, covered in bloody spit.

Whumpee weakly attempted to shove him away, though they more just ended up placing a hand on his chest. “Swallow it. That one’s yours. I already got mine.”

“Yours is a fucking placebo and we both know it,” Caretaker hissed under his breath. “I’m already better. I don’t even need it. You’re dying. Take the damn medicine.”

He shoved it in Whumpee’s face, but they turned their head, the most protest they could manage in their current state. “Can’t.”

“Why not? Why are you making this so difficult? Do you have any idea how hard it was to smuggle this? ‘Cause they check your mouth after, you know that.” He opened his mouth, showing off a ragged incision in his cheek. “I had to make a ‘pocket’ with the plastic knife from breakfast. Hurt like a bitch, those things are dull. I’m not doing all that just to have you say no thanks and die in front of me. Take the fucking pill.”

Whumpee looked up with innocent, wet eyes. “What about all the sick people?”

“What sick people!?” Caretaker scream-whispered. “You’re the sick people! In more ways than one, even! Sick in the head, more like!”

“They’re not doing this to us for no reason, you know. These diseases they’re infecting us with? People have them on the outside. Back in the real world.”

“Stop talking about it like it’s another planet. We’ve only been here… a few years.” How long has it been? He didn’t even know. The thought sent ice through his veins. “And this is still the real world.”

“Well, back out there, people are sick, in case you forgot. That’s why they’re doing this, they’re trying to find cures.” Whumpee reached a trembling hand up to cup Caretaker’s cheek, the one with the ‘pocket’. “And they found one. You’re better.”

“Okay, good!” He held the pill out again. “Your turn!”

Whumpee shook their head. “I’m in the control group. I remember learning about this in, what, middle school? The control group is important. It proves the medicine really works and you didn’t just get better on your own. If I start getting better, they might think the medicine doesn’t work. They’ll throw it away. All those innocent people don’t have anything to do with the people keeping us here. They’re being exploited too, just for their money instead of their freedom.”

“Fine. True. But you know what? I don’t give a shit about any of those people.” Caretaker was choked up, teary-eyed. “They can all die, for all I care. I’d rather have you. So take the pill before I shove it down your throat myself.”

“No.” Whumpee turned over, pulling the thin blanket over their head.

Caretaker hated this. He hated it. What would it have been like, if they’d met on the outside? If they hadn’t been the ones to lose the lottery? Neither one of them would be sick, probably, maybe. Though he’d heard the science fucks talking about it getting worse, so maybe they would be. But they could just live their lives in freedom until some other suckers were fucked with enough to find a cure. They could be friends, normal friends, not fighting over whether they deserve to live or die.

He grabbed Whumpee by the shoulder and flipped them back over as carefully as he could. “I’m sorry. I did warn you. Last chance.”

Whumpee glared up at him. “I’ll tell. You’ll get in trouble.”

“Pssh. No you won’t, you teddy bear.” Caretaker rolled his eyes. “Try that on someone who knows you less.”

It wasn’t much of a struggle. Whumpee was too weak to put up a fight. Caretaker got the pill as far back in their mouth as they could, then held their jaw closed, rubbing their throat, just like the vet taught him to do with his dog that hated taking pills.

God, his dog. He wondered if she missed him. If she remembered him. How she was doing with his dipshit brother taking care of her. If he’d ever see her again.

Finally, he felt Whumpee’s throat bob as they swallowed under his fingers, and he let go.

“Open,” he demanded, the same way the science fucks did.

Whumpee’s mouth fell open on command. Tongue up, tongue down, no pill.

“They’re counting on us,” Whumpee whispered tearily.

“None of them are worth it if they sacrifice you to do it.”

Whumpee curled up with their head in Caretaker’s lap, the fight gone. “I had sick family. My nephew. When I got picked, I promised I’d help find a cure. That I got picked for a reason.”

Caretaker was silent for a long, long moment. It was far from the first time Whumpee had mentioned their nephew.

“Whumpee…” they finally tried, “That was years ago. This isn’t… a slow disease. You have to kn–”

“Don’t.” Whumpee buried their face in Caretaker’s scrubs. “It doesn’t matter. There’s more like him. It’s always going to be someone’s nephew sick out there. Or parents, or kids, or sibling, or husband or wife or best friend or–”

“Yeah, well, you’re mine,” Caretaker interrupted, petting them gently. “You’re my someone. So there.”

“You’re my someone too,” Whumpee’s voice came muffled.

Caretaker ruffled their hair. “That’s how I know you won’t tell.”

He couldn’t tell whether the noise they made after that was laughing or crying, and he didn’t ask.

-

i also posted another one a few hours ago if you missed it!

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[digital-nova]

oh my god i haven’t said happy pride. happy pride guys!!

[digital-nova]

You know what I realized that I really love? Intelligent whumpees. Whumpees that have a bright future ahead of them, who have the potential for greatness. They're always reading and always itching to learn something new.

And then all of that is taken away. They get kidnapped and suddenly reduced to a stupid pet, a worthless object, or - my personal favorite - a pleasure slave.

Then, when they're eventually rescued, they lose all confidence in their intelligence. Every mistake they make is just proof to themselves that they're too stupid to be worth anything. Their dreams of going to an ivy-league school are gone, replaced with their unrelenting need to be quiet and obedient. Their affinity for learning has been destroyed by the mentality that they're more useful as an empty-headed slave.

They've been completely destroyed, and the greatness they once seemed destined for is now nothing but a distant, impossible fantasy.

[digital-nova]

constant fear of accidentally reblogging whump to my innocent side blog. i fear they wouldn’t forgive me over there

[digital-nova]

The whumpee lived in paradise, kept safe by the only person they’d ever known, and having Their every need was taken care of. The sessions of torture were just a necessity, a way for the whumper to destress- that was the price of peace for the whumpee, after all, they’d never known anything else.

[digital-nova]

vampire whumper nearly draining his whumpee servant

oh yes absolutely. and there’s so many directions the aftermath could go in as well :,)

does whumper regret it? do they become a caretaker? if so, what kind? and how does their servant feeling about being looked after?

or does whumper not feel any remorse whatsoever? does this become another punishment to threaten whumpee with? or do they decide that every feeding should leave whumpee almost entirely drained? how willing is whumpee to let this continue?

i am in fact a vampire whump enthusiast btw

[digital-nova]

Team whump prompts

Leader overestimated a new recruit’s strength for a mission, and now feels responsible for any harm that came to them.

Whumpee looked up to Leader for years, but now that they’re actually working under them, they’ve been introduced to a side to them that’s far from admirable.

Whumpee’s team arrives to save them, only to be made an offer by Whumper that they can’t refuse— one that involves leaving Whumpee behind.

Leader is framed as a traitor, and ends up sacrificing everything to prove their innocence and devotion to the team.

Whumper is second in command— they have far too much power (and far too much of the unsuspecting Leader’s trust) to ever be questioned.

Whumpee is forced to pretend to betray their team for a greater cause, but when they finally reveal the truth, their team doesn’t buy a word of it.

[digital-nova]

I feel like a straitjacket is never talked about enough.

I mean the texture of it, like some are soft loke cotton, others a like a leather. Material that you sweat against anf it rubs your skin.

The anxiety that comes from waking up and you can’t move, you feel trapped and you are trapped and there is nothing you can do.

Then you have to use the bathroom, but everything is so tight that you can’t even relieve yourself if you wanted to.

Youre at whumpers mercy, they can do anything, and I mean anything they want to you and theres nothing you can do about it.

And boy do they always say “it’s for your own safety” but from Whumper? Devastating….

[digital-nova]

Prompt #26

Whumpee is a demon who has been brought from hell by Whumper. Obeying his master's orders, he is being used as a living weapon against the heroes.

The Good Ones™ capture him, and Caretaker, the leader of the team, succeeds in gaining Whumpee's sympathy by bribing him with food. Master has never given him food before.

[digital-nova]

whump scenario but it’s just a-level art

[digital-nova]

The whole ‘secret meeting, come unarmed’ trope but with a living weapon. As soon as the team arrives, they’re searched heavily for weapons, and living weapon is escorted out of the room with all the other contraband found.

Living weapon being kept in a bland, locked room whilst the team discuss plans and the possibility of a truce with their enemy, unable to know how it’s going or if their team is safe.

Bonus points if this is post-whump where living weapon is recovering with the team. I imagine them being treated like any other gun or blade would be pretty harmful to the recovery stage.

[digital-nova]

niche fantasy whump

in which the main character is a fusion/conglomerate of multiple souls. (See Merger of Souls page for details)

possible scenarios:

-character goes crazy from having such discordant thoughts and opposing worldviews trying to co-exist

-character contains the fusion of a suicidal and a non-suicidal soul. the suicidal soul is dominant.

-less drastically, one soul is prone to self harm, and the others have to endure it

-souls fused into a body that isn't their own, that not all of them like

-whumpee forced to literally share a consciousness with whumper, and vice versa

-whumpee and caretaker existing as a fused consciousness, but neither of them really existing anymore within this new person, or ever able to see each other again

-traumatized whumpee's memories being shared against their will, other souls receiving these memories against their will

-trying to exist as two separate people again if the souls are suddenly split

-loved ones trying to adjust to the change/loss of the constituent souls, or mourning the loss of the gestalt if the souls are split

[digital-nova]

caretaker watching a movie or a show with whumpee when they turn to find them fast asleep. a warmth glows in their chest, and they smile; whumpee always dozes off with them whenever they feel safe. caretaker using the opportunity to softly touch whumpee's face, petting fingers along their forehead, caressing their cheeks with the back of their hand, tracing the bridge of their nose. curling up next to them and resting their faces together, basking in the closeness, the trust. caretaker feels safe too.