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something about a caretaker undressing their sickee always gets me. like, i don’t know. how vulnerable do you have to be to let someone take your clothes off? i mean this in the sweetest, non-lascivious way. his fever made him sweat through his shirt and he’s too delirious and/or weak to take it off himself, but caretaker sees him in his damp mess and is compelled to take matters into their own hands.

they’ve bled through their day clothes and are too pained to even move an inch, so caretaker will help them into something fresh.

like that. That’s what i mean.

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inspecting fresh goods

『 Next 』

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Fever dreams

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𝖔𝓁𝖉 𝖔𝒸 𝖘𝓀𝖊𝓉𝖈𝒽𝖊𝓈 𝒻𝖗ℴ𝖒 𝟐0𝟏8!

I was looking through old art folders and remembered this whump oc I made (way before I ever heard of whump). hes a wrong-place-wrong-time back alley science experiment that gets turned into a werewolf...via ˚｡⋆~science~⊹ ࣪ ˖

i remember this was an era where I really wanted to have a more defined art style so i was doing lots of intentional style experiments. tbh i still dont know if ive got a style I like yet but i feel closer than i was 7 years ago.

back then I was way too embarrassed to post any of this type of art. tbh I still am but I do it anyways bc you guys seem to like it.

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caretaker who is compliant in whumpee’s suffering. never once have they worked for freedom or better conditions for them. still, every time the whumpee is tortured, they’re there to pick up the pieces and comfort them. if the whumpee were to escape, they wouldn’t need them as much anymore. it’s easier this way.

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fans of characters that hate vulnerability will be like “i cant wait until they cry 😍 cant wait until the weight of their emotions breaks them 😍”

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“They did that to you? And you let them?”

“You think I had a say in how I was fucking tortured?”

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Prompt: Whumper beating the absolute shit out of whumpee maybe as a punishment for escaping?? (pls include lots of crying and begging 🫶) thanks! ily

The dichotomy of this ask made me laugh. It's like, please make them sob and beg and get them within an inch of death ❤️ peace and love! But that's whump for you lol. And I love it. Ok, enjoy!

Fuck, fuck, fuck.

The whumpee couldn't breathe, they couldn't think. They just needed to run.

Everything looked the same, concrete walls, metal doors, sprawling hallways that could very well just be leading the whumpee further into the compound.

"Hey!"

Fuck.

The whumpee's heart lurched.

The voice was close behind them, undoubtedly one of the whumper's men.

Undoubtedly.

So there was no reason to turn and check.

No reason to risk it.

These things occurred to the whumpee as they were already glancing back over their shoulder.

As their ankle rolled, and their feet fell out from under them.

There hadn't even been anything to trip on. They misstepped on perfectly even concrete.

The whumpee landed hard, air ripped from their lungs.

It was only a matter of seconds before hands were on them.

This wasn't a surprise.

During the whumpee's ill-thought-out glance behind them, they had seen two large figures, dressed all in black.

Those two figures were now upon them, fingers digging roughly into the whumpee's arms and wrenching them to their feet.

The whumpee gasped for breath. Panic adding to the breathlessness caused by their fall.

"No! No- no please-" a sob exited their mouth. They struggled in vain, thrashing against the men as they dragged the whumpee back down the hall, "No no no no please- please d-don't do this... please!" They scrambled to get any traction but could barely get their feet under themselves.

"Fucking idiot." One of the guards mumbled.

They rounded the corner, and an all too familiar steel door came into view.

"Please! Please-please don't..."

Dread built in the whumpee's stomach.

They quickly found themselves back at the entrance to their cell, a rough shove sent them stumbling through the threshold. It was rapidly followed by a second that sent them straight to the ground.

The whumpee dropped without resistance, curling into themselves and wrapping their arms around their head in preparation.

None of this was unexpected.

The blows began, kicks mostly, hard and fast, punctuated by the occasional laugh or sneer.

"Get up bitch," the same man who had spoken under his breath on the walk back reached down and yanked the whumpee up.

The whumpee tried to comply, body already bruised and aching. It didn't matter much; the men would do what they wished with them. Sometimes compliance made it end just a little sooner. Or maybe the whumpee was just too tired to keep fighting.

"Hold them," the man pushed the whumpee towards his partner, who latched onto their wrists and held them fast.

The whumpee squeezed their eyes shut, now unable to shield their face.

A fist drove into their stomach, causing the whumpee to double over in pain, a scream died in their throat.

"Open your fucking eyes."

The whumpee did. Just in time to see another fist hurtling towards them before it collided with the side of their jaw. Before the whumpee had time to really process, let alone recover from the blow, a third slammed into their nose.

The whumpee heard a sickening wet crunch, they instantly felt blood dripping down their face.

"That will do for now."

They froze.

Nothing these men could do to them would fill them with more panic than that voice.

The arms holding them up vanished. The whumpee struggled to stay upright before crumbling to their knees.

Head down, the whumpee didn't dare to look up.

"Leave us."

The guards exited, closing the heavy door behind them with a resounding thud.

Familiar boots stepped into the whumpee's field of vision. They clutched their hands against their chest.

"I really wish you hadn't done that."

The whumpee felt as if their heart had stopped, unable to breathe, "I... I-I'm sorry. Please- I'm so sorry-"

"Begging? For what?"

"Please forgive me-"

A slap cut the whumpee off, their breath hitched, tears flowing with renewed vigor.

"You don't want my forgiveness." There was ice in the whumper's tone. "You want your little stunt to have worked out. Really, I thought you would know better by now."

"No- no no I... I was so stupid- please, please, it won't happen again- I... I swear I'm so sorry-"

"You'll say whatever you need to right now." The whumper knelt in front of the whumpee, wiping away the blood trickling down their chin with a feather-light touch, "but only because you know you are about to be punished."

The whumpee cried, breathing fast and uneven, "please-"

"Shushhh," the whumper cupped the whumpee's cheek, "I'm doing this for you, you know that right?"

The whumpee lent unabashedly into the touch, nodding weakly.

"Who's my good boy?"

"I- I am-"

Another vicious slap. The momentum of it almost threw the whumpee to the ground, they caught themselves on their hands.

The whumper's hand snaked into the whumpee's hair and yanked their head back to whisper in their ear, "Not now. Today, you have been a very bad boy whumpee."

"I'm sorry," the whumpee whimpered through choked sobs, "I'm so so sorry- please- please I'll be good- I will, please. I'll be a good boy- I... I'm sorry- I am."

"You're not. But you will be."

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Whumpee who is in pain but also very snappy and defensive because of that. Caretaker wants to help them, they're also talking to them in an attempt to calm them down, but Whumpee just yells at them to shut up, that it hurts and to leave them alone. They're overwhelmed and in pain, everything feels too loud, too much.

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“Pretty birds need to be kept in cages. Otherwise they get snatched up by big bad predators.”

The demon grabs their pets chin, holding up his head. His feathered ears are flat against his head, and he tries to look anywhere besides the demons face.

“Oh little starling, don’t give me that face. Someone was going to whisk you away eventually, you should be glad it was me. Other demons would take your wings as trophies and leave you for dead. Or they’d eat you.”

They run their hand across the soft feathers, tightly pressed against his hair.

“Stop… don’t- don’t touch me…”

“Pretty birds like you shouldn’t use their voices to speak.”

They grab the angels chin once more, and push him back against the wall behind him. With another hand, they dig their claws into his side, just under his ribs.

“Go on, pretty bird. Sing for me.”

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Ok, you know those old timey orphanages like, the big rooms of children all looking for a forever home?

That but with whumpees. Just think about it. The people who run it could have different delivery packages, like, the more you pay the more pretty whumpee will be when they get to you.

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Defiant Whumpees and Control Magic

It is a wonderful concept

A team leader getting influenced by some unknown power in the middle of a fight. They Go against it but can't hear their teammates warnings anymore. Thus getting struck by a physical enemy.

A Whumpee struggling to stay on their feet even though every muscle in their body screams to kneel.

Them Walking around like in a drunk daze. Everything is slow, noises are distorted and The sway with every step while they head into a general direction that awaits them, meanwhile they try to figure Out another way they can Take. Internally screaming at themself to Stop.

Headaches, or other physical pain increasing with every Second they go against the control. They are in pain, barely able to move without cramping or toppling over. But it's Worth it to Not betray their cause.

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Team trying to bait Whumper into a trap, not realising they’ve gotten the Whumper’s motives all wrong.

The team all think Whumper is after some information, or perhaps a weapon of sorts. So, they formulate a plan where Whumpee goes to bait Whumper, promising the item they think they’re after. Whumper accepts, and it goes swimmingly. They’ve finally won, and they’ve outsmarted Whumper, because when they arrive, there won’t be any info or weaponry waiting for them.

Turns out, it wasn’t the item or the information they wanted. They could care less about all that. Unbeknownst to all of the team, they wanted Whumpee, and now they’ve got them in exchange for whatever mediocre price the team had ‘bargained’ for.

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The whumper didn’t like how sloppy some burns and cuts could be, they liked precise work laid own in intricate patterns, so the whumper would injure the whumpee accordingly. Torture felt like art to them, and scars were neatly laid own into designs that the whumper would take time to just admire. The whumpee could only watch as the patterns spanned their entire body slowly, painful reminders of what was happening to them.

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Random whump idea (if anyone wants to take it further or write anything inspired by it, feel more than free and tag me in it as I'd love to see it)

But you have a whumpee whos been kidnapped and they have a kid. Its been a year or two, or maybe longer, and the kid is like a teenager. And afterwards the whumpee's kid starts to spiral, or act out or act self-destructively, get in trouble, or something similar. This is completely out of how they would normally act. And the whumper is either seeing this or keeping an eye on the kid/whumpee's family and just taunts whumpee with the information of how their kid is spiraling.

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need to be mockingly cooed at SO BAD right now please send help

“oh, i knoooow :[“

“awh, poor baaaby”

UUUUGH

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Love love love whump that comes from a misunderstanding of Whumpee’s capabilities/powers.

Whumpee is believed to be invincible. Their powers make them invulnerable to anything, they can’t be killed, so the team’s plans usually just involve chucking Whumpee at any and every threat whilst everyone else works on stuff behind the scenes.

It usually works like a charm, and Whumpee never protests or complains, insisting that it doesn’t hurt them at all.

Except, their powers don’t work like that. Not technically. Sure, Whumpee is immune to physical damage, which greatly reduces risk of death or infection. But they still feel it, quite possibly more sensitively.

Whumpee, whose job is to basically just be stabbed and shot on a near daily basis feels every single wound as painful as the last. They’ve just learnt to hide the pain is all, out of fear they’ll be taken out of their role, because if someone else on the team got hurt, they’d bleed. Not Whumpee.

Cut to the team realising this, perhaps when their powers are examined in an annual checkup by a doctor with much more knowledge on how these types of powers work.

Medic is worried sick, they’d never given Whumpee any pain relief at all, thinking they simply didn’t need it.

Caretaker’s more concerned that Whumpee never even mentioned it to them. Did they not trust the team? They could have made plans with this in mind, that kept Whumpee safe, right?

Leader, however, is torn. They like Whumpee, they’re part of the team. You don’t just leave one member of the team to be hurt relentlessly. But, Whumpee is their main line of defense, and they’re not sure if they can risk losing that.