#bathing whumpee

[hurt-and-comfort-me-please]

Bathing in Whump

Ooo the vulnerability! The intimacy!

-Carefully positioning Whumpee in the bathtub to prevent their casts from getting wet.

-Helping Whumpee get in/out of their clothes before or after a bath if they're too beaten up.

-Blood being washed away, revealing huge bruises and scrapes.

-Caretaker carefully carding their hands through Whumpee's hair, washing out all of the dirt and blood.

-Bathwater stained pink from rehydrated blood.

-A sponge bath for a bed bound/unconscious Whumpee.

-Whumper forcing Whumpee to bathe in ice water, not allowing them to get out until they're suitably clean.

-Whumpee obsessively scrubbing their skin raw, desperate to get everything off of them.

-Soap stinging the small cuts on Whumpee's knees and elbows, the already inflamed skin becoming even more painful.

-Whumpee being so tired they almost fall asleep in the bath.

-On the Run Whumpee having to bathe in unclean river water.

-Sick Whumpee having to take a cool bath to break their fever, shivering all the while.

-The implicit trust and nonsexual intimacy of allowing someone to help you bathe, love it!

#whump #whumpblr #story tropes #whump community #whump prompt #whump tropes #whumpee #bathing

[oddsconvert]

Intimate Whumpers that bathe their Whumpee's in scents that they like 🌸 Whumpee's hair smells like milk and honey shampoo, their skin smells like vanilla and raspberry. Even if it makes Whumpee's nose crinkle in disgust, it doesn't matter. It's all for Whumper 💖

#whump prompt #noncon bathing #intimate whumper #whump #whump writing #whump thoughts #whump community #whumpblr #whump blog #whumpee #whumper #captivity

[chiharuuu22]

How about this one?

Whumpee is saved by Caretaker. His clothes were in tatters, and his body was covered in blood, bruises, and dirt. A conscious Whumpee is too tired and weak to make a move to let Caretaker do anything to him.

Caretaker laid him in the bathtub and carefully said she would clean his body. His unfit clothes were removed one by one. Whumpee is uncomfortable being seen naked, but he still lets Caretaker wear latex gloves in front of him. Slowly pouring warm water on him, rubbing his dirty body with soapy water mixed with antiseptic, trying to remove all the dirt that sticks to him one by one, cleaning his hair with shampoo, saying excuse me when the Caretaker is going to rinse it, even helping him brush his teeth.

Whumpee, who had finished cleaning, was carried to his resting room. Caretaker will dry his body with a soft towel, comb his hair, which she has worked so hard to soften again, and treat all of Whumpee's wounds painstakingly before finally dressing him in proper clothes.

Whumpee was tired but felt happy and grateful because the person who took care of his body, which was full of wounds after so long, was Caretaker. The last thing Whumpee saw before closing his eyes to end his long suffering was the Caretaker's sweet face smiling and telling him to rest without thinking about anything.

#whumpee #caretaker #whump #caretaking #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #whump writing #whump scenario #recovery whump #whump dialogue #whump comfort #whumpblr #medical whump #whump fic #whump prompt #exhausted whumpee #bathing #comfort whump #injured whumpee

[dainluvr]

“I’m sorry..” Whumpee sniffled, holding their legs to their chest as they looked at the dirty bath water, seemingly the first words they’d said since their recovery.

“Hm? For what?” Caretaker asked, washing the other’s back and trying to hide their excitement as Whumpee finally spoke to them, however their tone of voice failed them slightly.

“The bath water… it’s all dirty and red… because of me,” Whumpee murmured again, the last part slipping through their lips slightly quieter than the rest.

Caretaker’s hand stopped momentarily, unsure of what to say, but resumed immediately as they felt Whumpee tense up at the reaction.

Whumpee however, took the lack of words as Caretaker’s irritation and continued talking, attempting to talk their way out of the situation as their body only tensed more, “I-I’m sorry for being so dirty and… for having so many cuts I promise I’ll clean it all up I-“

“Whumpee.” They were suddenly cut off, a hand resting on their shoulder, and they swallowed thickly, preparing for the hit, however it never came, instead two soft hands cupped their cheeks, “You don’t need to be sorry for… well… this,” Caretaker reassured them softly, “I’m taking care of you because I want to, okay? I don’t mind the dirt the blood- hell even the bits of stone that will probably clog the drain later,” Caretaker reminded them, chuckling softly to themselves cause, “All I care about is you right now, and my priority is your comfort, so let me take care of you,” They added, tracing their hands down to Whumpee’s shoulders again, feeling their body slowly relax and lean into their touch.

#whump #whump things #writing #whump prompt #whumpee #whump scenario #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker #caretaker x whumpee #recovery whump #post rescue #bath whump #comfort whump #hurt comfort #writing prompt #whump writing #whump blog #whump comfort #whump community #whumpblr #emotional whump

[thewhumpcaretaker]

The incomprehensible urge to bathe a wounded man. 💖💦

Test the water to make sure it's warm enough. Unbutton his clothes and slip off his belt. Guide him to lay back in the heat. Play with his hair. Make him feel adored and loved beyond anything he's ever known. Run a sponge slowly along his skin. Listen to every sharp inhale and exhale. Watch the water turn pink with his blood. Jack him off.

#nsfwhump #caretaker x whumpee #comfort whump #bathing #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumpblr #whump prompt

[whumpwillow]

a whumpee who used to live in luxury. A royal, a noble, something else equally as wealthy? They were cared for beyond belief, wearing soft clothes and sleeping on silk sheets and bathing in palatial pools while servants massaged scented oils into their hair.

and then they lose everything. they suffer and are hurt irrevocably. theyre thrown in the dirt. theyre forced to wear the same clothes day in and day out. they have to do all the work for themselves because there arent any more servants to do it for them. theyre filthy and exhausted and aching and yet they must continue.

then caretaker comes into the picture. draws them a bath. whumpee doesnt remember how long its been since theyve had a warm one, or even how long its been since they were clean. caretaker helps wash their hair, their face. theyre gentle, so gentle, more than whumpee knows they deserve.

It’s not like how it used to be. It’s not in a gold-lined tub with expensive scented oils and rose petals. but its the best thing whumpee has ever experienced. he doesn’t care that its a little haphazard, just that caretaker cares enough to do this for him and wanted to help him.

#today on really specific tropes #platonic bathing trope my beloved #whump #whump prompt #whump prompts #whumpee #whump tropes #whump scenario

[whump-about-it]

Sponge bath/ Infection/ “Lets get you cleaned up”

@whumpril day 22

CW: infections, passing out, mild hallucinations, fever. 

The room seemed to be wavering around Whumpee. The floor kept shifting and tilting at odd angles, and the walls didn’t appear to be shifting with it. Instead they kept elongating and shrinking at random intervals. Whumpee couldn’t look at anything straight on or else the constant movement of the room was going to make them nauseous. When they tried to take a step they stumbled on the moving floor and had to grab onto the chair next to them to keep their knees from buckling. 

Their mouth was dry, and their ears were beginning to ring. Whumpee tried to grip the chair harder to ground themselves. Get a control on their body and the shaking room. They knew they should know what was going on, but their brain was moving so sluggishly they couldn’t think of what had happened. 

“Whumpee?” A voice broke through the ringing in Whumpee’s ears, and they could feel someone putting a hand on their shoulder. Whumpee turned towards the voice, and the hand, and managed to focus on Caretaker’s concerned face for a split second before it began to twist and contort like they were a painting someone was smudging over. 

It was all to much for Whumpee’s brain, and their world quickly faded to grey, and then to black. 

“Catch me” they slurred as their body went boneless. The last thing they remembered before they totally blacked out was Caretaker swearing as they tried to pull Whumpee into their arms before they hit the floor. 

The next thing Whumpee remembered, they were coming to propped up in someone’s bed. Their head was screaming, and their skin itched and ached. They felt like a clay pot cracking and preparing to fall apart in desert heat. Even so, Whumpee could feel something wet and freezing being pressed to their neck, just below their ear. The feeling disappeared but quickly came back an inch or so away. The sudden cold on their hot and aching skin made Whumpee wince even as their brain told them to stay still. 

“It’s just me” Caretaker murmured from somewhere very close to Whumpee. They continued to dab Whumpee’s neck with what they could now distinguish as a sponge for a minute until Whumpee managed enough control over themselves to crack their eyes open. 

They were in Caretaker’s room. The lights were out and the curtains were drawn only allowing dim sunlight to filter through. The room was spinning, but it at least was staying proportional now. And Caretaker’s face, mere inches from their own, was only contorting in the usual ways. 

Caretaker leaned away when they saw Whumpee’s eyes open and dipped the sponge in a bowl of water sitting on the bedside table. They rang it out and began to dab at the other side of Whumpee’s neck making them wince again. Caretaker’s face was a mixture of concern and displeasure and Whumpee tried not to stare at them and they continued to wipe the sweat off of their face and neck. 

“Is this your shirt?” They asked in a raspy voice after a moment. They had just noticed they weren’t in the same clothing they had been in when they passed out. 

“You sweat through your own” Caretaker told Whumpee in way of a response. “The cut on your arm has a nasty infection.” 

Whumpee glanced guiltily down at their left forearm. It was splayed out next to them on a seperate pillow. Caretaker had removed the bandage, but there was a warm compress over the deep cut Whumpee had been trying to hide. 

Right. That’s what had happened. They hadn’t told Caretaker about the injury. They didn’t want them to worry. The infection hadn’t been that bad the last time they had changed the bandage. They had cleaned out the puss and made sure to dry the wound before putting on a new bandage. Had they applied the antiseptic? They couldn’t remember. 

“Are you going to give me a lecture?” They rasped, glancing back at Caretaker, who surprisingly gave them a half smile. 

“Eventually” They said fondly “When your fever breaks. I want to make sure you  remember it.” 

Whumpee nodded and instantly regret the movement. They squeezed their eyes shut against the room that was beginning to spin again. Caretaker continued to brush the sponge down Whumpee’s arm while they stroked Whumpee’s sweaty head with their other hand, gently encouraging them to take deep breathes until Whumpee didn’t think they were going to pass out again. 

“I’m sorry” Whumpee rasped when they opened their eyes again “I should have told you about the cut.” 

“I told you, I’m saving the lecture for later.” Caretaker said. “For now lets get you cleaned up, and then I’m tracking down some antibiotics.”  

“Okay” Whumpee mumbled. They shut their eyes again and held as still as they could as Caretaker finished wiping them down with cool water and began to dress their wound, properly this time. 

#whump #whumblr #whumpril2023 #whumprilday22 #sponge bath #infection #lets get you cleaned up #fever #passing out #hallucinations #hiding injuries #whumpee x caretaker #caretaker

[nugatory-and-sempiternal-reverie]

shock collar

The whumpee sat nervously in the corner. The heavy shock collar around their neck cut deeply into their sensitive, now burned skin, their flesh was smelling horribly from the near constant electricity entering this specific spot to course through the body.

They were shivering in fear when they heard the door to dark room they found themselves in opening. The whumper's heavy steps echoed through the room and seconds later the lights went on which made the terrified whumpee flinch. The whumper smirked down at them, "My little pet, there you are. How are you this morning? Did the pain lessen a bit?"

The whumpee knew this game all too well by now. They had to answer, answer correctly and they had to smile or the cruel pain would return once again. So they tried their best to smile and answered with a trembling voice, "I-I'm fine, t-thank you. T-The pain did lessen..."

The whumper's smirk widened the slightest bit. Their eyes widended and before they could correct themselves, he lightly pressed the button and the loud screams accompanied by the cracks of electricity echoed through the room. The whumpee's writhing form, twisted in agony as they got electrocuted again made the whumper chuckle darkly,

"Tsk, tsk. You should've known better by now, my pet. It's 'I'm fine, than you. The pain did lessen, sir.'"

...

- especially if the whumpee is treated like a animal with not just the shock collar but a cage and leash to go with

- have them crawl around on all fours, sit at their whumper's feet, let them eat and drink out of a dirty dog bowl

- whumpee gets electrocuted for ever little mistake; forgotten to smile, forgotten to kneel or lower their head in time, sometimes even just for fun when they eat or sit still in the corner

- when they sleep as a brutal way to wake them up, just to heat their screams of agony first thing in the morning

- should whumpee ever be rescued, have them have nightmares and wake up screaming in horror, still feeling the weight of the collar around their neck

- have whumpee always flinch and try erratically to correct themselves and their responses because they haven't been wrong but they probably could've been more precise and they still expect the pain at every second

- traumatize them

#whump community #whumper #whumpee #whump prompt #whump writing #writing prompt #writing #dialogue #writing ideas #writeblr #have them be in fear of water because whumper has shocked them multiple times when bathing #whumpee & whumper relationship #let them have scars that'll never fade again be a reminder

[scrimblobimblowhump]

Hi!

how would you use a bathtub for whump?

Greetings!

Whumper forcing whumpee into an ice/hot bath as torture/punishment. If they have their clothes on - good, because that makes the sensations exponentially worse! If they're naked - good, because the forced intimacy, vulnerability and degradation of it is another layer to the punishment!

Or alternatively: caretaker having to force delirious whumpee with hypothermia/heatstroke into a warm/cold bath for the sake of their health and safety, but it fucking Hurts

Whumper making whumpee go into a tub, which's walls have been greased, and watching with amusement their futile attempts at getting out and constant slipping

Caretaker having wounded/beaten up whumpee sit in the tub, as they painstakingly patch them up, so the gore that drips off them is easier to wash off afterwards

Or alternatively: beaten up whumpee having nobody to take care of them and sitting in the cold, empty tub by themselves as they push through the exhaustion and pain to patch themselves up

Whumper forcing whumpee underwater in a tub and holding them down till they cannot breathe

!!!! Whumpee hiding in the locked bathroom, lights off, sitting curled up in one of the corners of the tub behind the drawn curtains, their breath hitching, clutching a knife, as whumper - who had broken in - is roaming the house in search for them

Drunk/drugged/high whumpee passing out in a full tub and being unable to wake up as their body slowly slides underwater, leading to them drowning (could be non-fatal and end up in a coma, if you fancy! but death works for a tragic flair too)

Overwhelmed whumpee curling up in a tub, behind drawn curtains, because it makes them feel safe and confined

On the more fluff/ hurt-comfort side of things: caretaker giving whumpee a warm bath post-rescue (that can mean rescue from captivity, them being retrieved from a dangerous mission, or even just caretaker finding them sick/hypothermic, the possibilities are endless), while they're absolutely exhausted and as caretaker gently scrubs them down with warm water, they fall into deep sleep

Depressed whumpee trying to force themselves to take their first bath/shower in a long time and they curl up sitting in the tub, the shower pouring over them, them still clothed

Whumpee getting their bed, sofa etc occupied/confiscated (abusive family or housemates?? evil landlord???) and them having nowhere to sleep at night but the bathtub (bonus points if the assholes use the toilet loudly at night or force whumpee out when they suddenly decide they need a 3am shower for some reason)

#can you tell some of these are kinda the same as my previous post but in a different font lmao #bathtub #bathing #whump #whump prompt #hurt comfort #whumpee #whumper #hypothermia #heat stroke

[tadpolesinyourshoes]

Hear me out!!! Whumpee x Caregiver with bath time....

Whumpee thats afraid of getting into a shower or a bath for whatever reason.

Whumpee who gas a very patient caregiver but caregiver can't keep giving whumpee only sponge baths.

Caregiver who shows whumpee the bathtub and overs to fill it up just a little.

Caregiver who sits at the edge of the bath and puts just their feet in to show whumpee its safe.

Whumpee, who after some gentle coaxing, sits next to caregiver with their feet in the tub.

Caregiver who fills the bath little by little for whumpee, day by day.

Caregiver who fills the bath with bubbles and lights a candle and plays soft mysic for whumpee.

Whumpee who finally feels safe in the bath because of caregiver.

And eventually......

Whumpee who feels so safe in the bath thanks to caregiver that they pull caregiver into the bathroom to fill it up with bubbles for them.

Whumpee, who when they get overwhelmed, sits in the empty bathtub with their knees to their chest.

Caregiver who is looking for whumpee and doesn't think to look in the bathtub....until they do.

Caregiver who immediately understands and runs whumpee a warm bath.

Caregiver who gently scrubs whumpees hair until they relax again.

Whumpee who loves to take baths again all because of caregiver.

#whumpee #whump community #whumpee bath #caregiver #defo not imagining my sweet little oc packed full of trauma with this

[whump-or-whatever]

Imagine, if you will, a whumpee who is sitting in the bath, relaxing into the warmth of the water, only to eventually have to peel their injured back off the surface of the tub wall they’ve been leaning against.

#whump #whump prompt #whump idea #whump scenario #whump prompts #whumpee #back injury #bathing #recovery whump #injury whump

[pyrepostings]

whumpee who's only given soft water to drink/bathe with.

#pyreprompts #Sourced from a very unfortunate hotel experience #I understand soft water in the shower because the glass door #But the sink too? Sir I just had several drinks at your bar I am thorsty for something that doesn't taste like soap #Too tired to go see if there's a water fountain around the corner #In too much period cramps to fall asleep #Def dehydrated #Don't know if soft water is like actually bad for you or just tastes like shit #Eyes too adjusted to darkness to want to get on my phone to find out #Bad time #Could be solved if water was palatable #Give that option to your chained in the basement whumpee #I say bathe as well because low pressure hotel shower plus soft water equals Bad Sensory Time #How are you supposed to feel clean??? #Whump prompt #whump prompts #whump scenario #whumpee #whump #whump ideas #whumper #Also also can't get over the keurig in the room #Are they expecting guests to put salty soapy water in the machine to make their tea or coffee?? Huh??? #Anyway my point is make your whumpee drink vile tasting water it's so effective

[brutal-nemesis]

E&T: Deep in the Bowels of Gluttony

I am forcing more CAVE WHUMP into your enclosure (with an added dash of inspiration from my favorite national park that I can never visit ✨)

Suggested Vibe: Duma’s Scourge from Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia (youtube)

←Previous - Masterlist

Ingredients: a lot of gore. eating is involved in the goriness if you couldn’t tell. it is also very gross. Wow! Oh and there is a little bit of burning

By the time Erebus finished crying, his hand had grown back.

He hadn’t even realized it at first, too caught up with gut-wrenching sobs to be aware of anything else besides how much his head hurt, how hard it was to breathe, how terrified he was to be in this strange place all alone, how he might never make it back home, or even back to his cell, how hopeless he felt, how-how-And then he’d noticed the stump of his left hand, no longer ending in a jagged tear, little strings of skin dangling off of it, but a-it was growing, it had to be, those little white nubs poking out of the mass of muscle had to be the bones of his hand, bones that had definitely been…Before he knew it he was crying in earnest again, his body’s sudden strange capability to repair itself overshadowed by the trauma of the past hour, fear and exhaustion replacing awe and relief, because even if he could heal, it didn’t change the fact that he was stuck here, now saddled with the possibility that not even death could set him free.

If there was one good thing about this world, it was the fact that he was more alone than he’d ever been, and no one knocked on the door to interrupt his crying, no one commented on the redness of his eyes or asked him if he was okay too soon after he’d started to calm down. He caught his breath slowly, peacefully, washing the tears off his face using the fresh water from one of the pools near the sea, scrubbing the dried blood from his perfectly healed arm, revealing a ring of scar tissue around his wrist. The thought that neither of these hands were the ones he was born with almost sent him into another spiral, but he shook his head and put it out of his mind. That was enough for today. 

Today…Frowning, he looked up at the sky. Its blackness hadn’t changed in the slightest since he’d arrived here, and something told him it wouldn’t anytime soon. Even back in the windowless cell, he’d had meals and Neteri’s visits to help him keep track of the passage of time, but now there was just…nothing. It was all down to whatever cycle of waking and sleeping he fell into, and given how tired he was now, he was ready to get that started. 

Walking back to his pack, left at the base of the cliffs, he noticed his leg was no longer in pain, either. Once he arrived, he pulled the knife out and used it to slice the stitches still woven through his flesh, wincing a bit as he pulled the thread out. The holes left behind healed quickly enough that he could ignore them and busy himself finding a good place to lay his bedroll for the…night? For now. 

He ended up settling down along the cliffside, too afraid to lie out in the open despite how quiet it was here, and it wasn’t long before his exhausted body gave in to sleep.

When Erebus woke up, the sky was the same empty black as before, and it was impossible to tell how long he’d slept for, but he felt rested enough despite the circumstances. So now he was just supposed to…wander until he found something? He considered flying to get a better idea of what was around, but he decided it would be better to save his strength for the next fight. Since crossing the sea was out of the question, he headed back into the rocky maze he’d first arrived in. Eventually, he found himself at the entrance to a cave, a gaping hole in the side of the mountain rising even higher than the cliffs around him.

If the demons were tied to elements like their counterparts, the dragons, then whatever one was tied to the element of earth was definitely in that cave. His instincts screamed at him not to go into the dark, cramped space where his wings likely would be more of a hindrance than a help, but if he was going to get out of this place, then he’d have to go in eventually. So best to get it over with while he was here.

Erebus had never been inside of a cave, but he’d heard about how beautiful they could be, and…how dangerous. But he’d be okay. He could heal, for some reason. He’d be fine. He could handle this. He had to.

Burying his doubts, Erebus headed inside the cave, almost immediately tripping over a small, rounded protrusion of stone. They littered the ground, and the ceiling, too, their lengths varying. He’d have to take care to avoid them, then. 

Soon enough, though, the ground began to slope downwards, and the dim gray light streaming in from the cave’s entrance began to fade, not enough for even his new eyes to see with. It wasn’t long before he was stumbling along in the dark, unsure how much progress he was making, or if he was even headed in the right direction. He could be a couple steps away from a dead end, for all he knew. Or even a cl-At that moment, Erebus’s boot caught on a rock, his desperate grasps for something to catch himself on meeting empty air, and now he was falling, spinning, bouncing off the uneven stone, everything was slippery enough to slide out of his grasp but hard enough to break his bones, faster and faster until-

Cold. Deep cold, water, he was underwater, he had to get to the surface, had to find it in this spinning dark void, no way to tell which way is up, which way is death, swimming flailing reaching-his hand broke the surface, and he worked his way up desperately, his sodden clothes and heavy sword making it difficult, but he made it, he breathed, he coughed, he dragged himself out and laid on the bumpy stone next to the water’s edge, panting as his body throbbed and stung with a hundred cuts and bruises. Of course he hurt himself before even finding the demon. Of course. If only he had some way to know if he was even going in the right direction, but no, he was just supposed to stumble around in the dark.

One of his horns hurt, and upon poking at it gently, he found that the tip had broken off, exposing the tender flesh inside. Not like they served any purpose, besides telling him where…wait. What he wanted most was to get out of here and go home. To get out of here, he’d have to fight all the demons. Starting with the one hidden somewhere in this cave. So, by that logic, what he wanted most was to find the demon in these caves. He closed his eyes, not that it changed anything, and drilled that thought into his head. He needed to find that demon. Wanted to. Had to.

Erebus couldn’t help but smile as his horns started to tingle ever-so-slightly. 

It took some time to get used to navigating the cave based on the feeling in his horns. The changes in sensation were rather subtle, so it was difficult to tell immediately after changing course if he was heading the right way. It would have been much easier if he could take a direct path, but the twists and turns of the cave forced him to switch directions constantly, sometimes leading him to dead ends or passages he was too large to squeeze through. Progress was slow, but he was making progress, he was, the tingling was stronger now, his scrapes and bruises from his fall earlier had healed, and his clothes were beginning to dry, despite the cave air being rather cool.

Well, now that he thought about it, the air had grown warmer than when he’d first entered. He’d been so freezing from his wet clothes that he hadn’t realized it until now, but it was definitely getting warmer. That had to be a good thing, right? It wasn’t getting any lighter, unfortunately, so he was still stuck feeling his way along through the darkness, nothing but the tingling sensation in his horns to guide him, but at least he wasn’t shivering as much anymore.

It was getting warmer and warmer, hot now, and humid, the stickiness of the air reminding him of summers back home. Were caves supposed to be this hot? He’d been grateful for the warmth at first, but now he was sweating profusely, the thick, moist air making it somewhat difficult to breathe as he clambered up slopes and squeezed through small gaps, the feeling in his horns growing so intense he was starting to get a headache, made even worse by the slightly rotten smell that was starting to permeate the air.

Erebus stopped at the edge of some sort of drop-off. It was impossible to tell how far down it went, only that it was longer than his arm. He’d been scared of this, of having to fly while blind. Out of breath, he sat to rest for a moment, letting the slight breeze cool him off a tiny bit, wishing it didn’t smell so rancid.

Wait…breeze?

The air was moving, pulsing past him in a hot wave, and then a cooler gust in the opposite direction. It was rhythmic, over and over, back and forth, in and…in and out. 

Breathing. It was breathing.

If-if Erebus could feel its breathing, and the intense heat from its body, its stench, then it must be close, just off that ledge maybe, after all this time wandering around in the dark he’d finally found the next demon. With renewed energy, he stood and drew his sword. He’d have to approach this carefully, making sure he didn’t fly straight into the wall instead of hitting his target. After waving his hand over his head and not feeling anything above him, Erebus carefully took flight. It was difficult to move so slowly in the air, especially as he started to head down, but he didn’t want to risk falling who knows how far and landing on who knows what. 

Feeling his feet catch on something, he tried to land, but the ground beneath was slippery and almost gave way beneath him, causing him to fall for the second time today. Thankfully, he landed on something soft, though it was weirdly wet and sort of slimy, like…Erebus cried out and scurried back, but everything he touched was the same, squishy and warm and smooth and…and…It was flesh. All around him. He-he’d somehow flown into the demon’s mouth, he must have, its breath was rushing by him with even more force now, the nauseating scent of rot all around him. He had to get out. He just had to fly up. He could do this. He’d be fine. 

But…where was his sword?

He’d dropped it in his panic, like an idiot, and now he needed to find it. He wouldn’t stand a chance against the demons without it, and then he’d never be able to go home, never see another person again, he couldn’t accept that, he had to calm down, had to focus. He wanted that sword more than anything. It was his way out.

His stomach sank when his horns told him his sword was below him.

There wasn’t any choice but to fall further into the belly of the beast in order to kill it.

He took his time lowering himself, but it was more difficult than before. The heat was making his head throb, not to mention the toll all this flying was taking on him. Being unable to glide was putting a lot more strain on his wings than he’d realized, and though he couldn’t quite feel it through the sheen of sweat covering his face, he tasted the blood dripping out of his nose. By the time the buzzing in his horns peaked and his hand wrapped around the cool hilt of the sword, the world was starting to spin, and he all but collapsed next to the blade, which had buried itself partway in the fleshy ground. 

Erebus didn’t know if he had the energy to stand. The heat and all of that careful flying had sapped all of his strength, leaving him sprawled on the hot, soft flesh of the demon’s insides. Was this it? Was he just stuck here until he fell further and ended up digested? The healing he had for some reason was slow, probably too slow to keep up with stomach acid. He breathed in deeply as the slightly cooler air coming in rushed past him, trying to calm himself down. The demon’s breaths were deep and long, so they were difficult for Erebus to match perfectly, but he tried anyway, the less rancid-smelling air coming in making him feel a little better somehow. But why would…memories of dust, Neteri’s forehead against his, the puff of her breath against his cheeks. Sharing breath. He was sharing breath with this huge demon, gaining a little of its life force as he did so. 

Once he felt well enough to stand, he did so, holding onto his sword for support. He could do this. After bracing himself as best as he could, he started to pull, wincing at the awful squelching sound the blade made as it slid out of the flesh it was buried in. It came out with a sickening pop, squirting what Erebus could only assume was blood all over him. Some of it even landed in his mouth, and it…it tasted good. Really good, like a rich, meaty stew. 

His empty stomach started to growl.

This was a demon. Not a person.

He hadn’t eaten in over a day.

No one would ever know.

He needed energy.

Hands shaking, he pulled out his knife.

Just a little bit. 

It was warm, wet, chewy, almost rubbery, the texture making him gag slightly, but he didn’t care, not when it tasted this good, buttery and savory, little hints of spice dancing through it, shifting from one flavor to another, and he was powerless to stop, grabbing more and slicing it off, shoving it in his mouth before he’d even finished chewing the last bite, his hands and face slick with that delicious blood, the perfect sauce to go with his meat, the fingers on his right hand had grown claws at some point, and now he was tearing away at the walls with his hand, ripping chunks off with his teeth, continuing to slice and shred long after he’d eaten his fill, even as the ground below started to shake, a guttural roar drowning out the sounds of flesh tearing and blood dripping, the force of it sending Erebus to the ground, snapping him out of whatever trance he’d been in.

What…what had he just done?

How could he be sure there wasn’t anyone else out there in the blackness? 

He could feel the ghosts of his parents watching him, watching their son turn into the monster he looked like. 

He had to get out of here. 

The walls shifted and pulsed as the demon’s breath sped up, roars and moans sounding out so loudly around him it made his head hurt. Its mouth might be closed now, trapping him inside. He’d have to find another way. Or just…make his own.

A large section of one of the walls had already been ravaged, cut and torn away during his frenzied eating, so he resumed work on it, slicing away chunks with his sword now, tossing them to the side instead of bringing them to his mouth. Progress was faster when he could focus, but it was almost impossible to tell how far he’d come, how much he’d carved away, how close he was to breaking through the skin. He came across a more rubbery section and ended up having to almost saw away at it, blood spurting all over him as he went, as if he wasn’t already covered in it. How whole body felt so sticky and sweaty and gross, and all he could think about was washing off somehow after he got out of here.

Blood was flowing out steadily now, coming out with more and more force, and soon enough it was all Erebus could do to hold onto his sword, his anchor buried in the fleshy wall, praying he wouldn’t get swept away by the jet of hot, sticky, delicious-smelling blood. H-he must’ve cut into a major blood vessel. Those shot blood out like crazy, from what he remembered. Maybe this would be enough to kill the demon? Then he’d just be…trapped inside its corpse. For now, it was still very much alive, its roars and moans starting to get louder, more desperate.

All of a sudden, the ground beneath him lurched, and Erebus’s sword slipped out of the cut it was in, sending him tumbling backwards, the river of blood sweeping him away before he could try to stand up, stab the floor, do anything to save himself, but he had to, he couldn’t fall any further down, couldn’t lose the tunnel he’d carved out in this sweltering blackness, couldn’t sink into the sea of blood and digestive acid that was likely waiting for him below, he had to stop somehow, the sword was too long, his wings couldn’t generate lift, nothing to do but desperately scratch at the slippery ground below, dig his claws in, deeper, deeper, deeper, hold on, arm trembling with the effort, he couldn’t afford to let go, to fall, the blood was coming with less force now, the tremors not as frequent, just a little bit longer until…

The great beast fell silent, fell still, its blood merely trickling by now, dripping in imitation of the water in the cave surrounding it. 

Erebus dragged himself to his feet, coughing up blood. He’d tried to keep his mouth closed during the whole ordeal, but some had still made its way in. Was the demon actually dead? It was hard to tell for sure, but he supposed it didn’t matter. He had to get out of here regardless, and any other escape route besides his tunnel was out of the question. Nothing to do but resume work, then, and hope he could get out of here soon.

Time crawled by as Erebus hacked away at the wall, and just when he was starting to think he wasn’t headed towards the surface of this thing’s body, his sword met with a different sort of resistance than before. It wasn’t like the blood vessel, more stretchy and tough, but he was pretty sure he was able to poke through, and soon enough he’d made a gap large enough for him to squeeze through. He didn’t realize how hot it’d been in there until he was sitting outside it, the cave air unbelievably refreshing after being swallowed up by that rancid heat. 

After feeling around a bit, Erebus decided he must be on the demon’s back or something. The slope down was pretty steep, enough that he wasn’t sure he could walk down effectively in the dark. His wings were still exhausted from flying earlier, so…scooting down very carefully it was. For the first time today, he was able to move downwards at a reasonable pace, not having to be careful of random rocks jutting out of the floor or ceiling. He was starting to get a bit excited to leave these caves and be able to see again. The water in the sloth demon’s domain would be perfect for washing all of this blood off of him, and there were few things he loved more than feeling clean. Already, he was starting to realize everything he’d taken for granted in his previous captivity.

He’d taken light for granted, too, and the moment he saw it, the moment he could see at all, he teared up a bit, but that might have just been because it was bright. Navigating the rest of the way down the demon’s body was much easier now that he could see, and it wasn’t long before he was back on solid ground, nearly running towards the cave exit. Finally. 

The dark, starless sky was a welcome sight, almost as beautiful to him as the small pools of water a little ways away. He was lucky this exit dumped him out closer to the water than the entrance he’d originally gone through had been. Curious, Erebus looked down at himself, and couldn’t help but wince in disgust. He was covered from head to toe in blood, most of it dried to a brownish-red, cracking a bit around his joints, little pieces of the demon’s flesh caked on here and there. His hair was sticky and matted with it, and the coppery, still tempting tang of it was all he could smell and taste. He’d never been so revoltingly filthy, and he was secretly glad no one was here to see it. 

It was a quick walk to the nearest pool of water, and while it looked a bit different than the other little pools from before, he paid it no mind. Water was water. He fell to his knees in front of it and stuck his hands in, ready to-HOT! Erebus pulled his hands out of the fiery water, screaming as they burned so intensely he could feel it in his very bones. All he could do was lie on his side and wait for them to heal, tears streaming from his eyes as he wailed. None of the water in the sloth demon’s domain had even been warm, so why was it nearly boiling all of a sudden? Unless he wasn’t…

“You really wanted to make a good first impression on me, didn’t you, intruder?”

Blinking away tears, Erebus looked in the direction of the familiar voice, his blood running cold when he saw who had spoken.

It was Shiori.

Tags: @dramaticcollapse @thehopelessopus @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @galaxywhump @as-a-matter-of-whump

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#i wrote something #erebus & terror #erebus #vorath #whump #whump writing #gore #heavy gore #nonhuman whumpee #sorry erebus you get that tag now #suck it #uh yeah so. hope you enjoyed. #i love Cave i am sad i couldnt describe how pretty it looks :( maybe another time #and i already wrote guy stumbles around lost in a cave in complete darkness so ofc it was a little more than that <3 #toss him into the mystery flesh pit!! #yeah i cant visit my favorite national park because its not REAL which is probably for the best ig 🙄 #i will make erebus go into the meat tunnel instead and since he was very hungry he uh. mmmmmm yummy walls #gluttony demons taste super delicious to other gluttony demons so that is why he was having a gourmet experience #gluttony demons usually engage in nonfatal cannibalism if they encounter each other it is truly a lovely time #yeah i covered that man in blood he is the filthiest he's ever been probably hehe #maybe he will finally get to take a bath!! #sorry abt the cliffhanger BUT the next chapter has been mostly written for years so it shouldnt take me that long to get out #so hopefully yall wont be waiting for months lmao

[lights-out-knives-out]

Was working on art for a friend but made this whumpy doodle instead, enjoy

#whump community #whump #my art #whump art #tw slight nudity #tw slight gore #whump stuff #cause I do love showering whumpees #let them bathe

[whumpwillow]

Demon’s Haven 9

I’m also working on Hazeshift I prommy but I’m just feeling this series again, though I’m a little rusty and tryna get back into these characters, so sorry if the writing or interactions feel a little stilted 

—  

masterlist

warnings: blood, past torture, description of wounds, basically just more comf but they are both sad and awkward about it 

—  

The demon seemed relieved when Haven finally finished washing the wounds on his chest, but it was a short-lived comfort. She moved behind him to start cleaning the blood from the wreckage of his back and knew the worst was yet to come. The demon had been doing well so far, wincing only slightly without uttering a whimper of pain as Haven had dabbed at the cuts and burns on his chest. Looking at his back, such a thing seemed unavoidable now.

She cringed at the sight. Sitting down in the chair behind him, Haven took stock of the damage. There was almost too much blood for her to even see where the wounds were. She couldn’t tell where one injury began and one ended, as if they all melded into his flesh so that there wasn’t a speck of unbroken skin. Long, ropy scars dragged from the tops of his shoulders and down his body, ending at the small of his back, crisscrossed over one another.

Haven sighed. This was not going to be pleasant. For either of them. 

The demon’s head turned slightly to the side, as if he meant to catch a glimpse of her, but his hair had fallen into his eyes so it was likely not a clear picture.

“Are you alright?” Haven asked.

She knew he wasn’t, but what else was she supposed to say? How did she comfort someone who had been through something as horrific as this?

The demon nodded lightly, ignoring what Haven could not. Red stripes gouged his back, stretching from his shoulders and moving downwards. Ropes of bloodied wounds overlayed on top of each other, some healed more than not, others fresh and weeping. A grotesque sight that made Haven want to gag, though she swallowed and contained herself.

She wanted to look away. She wanted to run from the room and forget this had ever happened. That this was something that could happen to someone.

But she was done with fearing for nothing—the demon had been hurt already, and there was nothing to undo that fact. Only to cleanse the wounds and bandage them would they disappear from her view.

“This might sting.”

It would do a whole lot more than that. The wounds that littered his skin…Haven didn’t want to believe they could be from a whip, but she didn’t know how else to describe them than as lashes.

The demon nodded again.

Haven touched the wet cloth to the back of the demon’s shoulder and instantly he flinched, drawing out a hiss. Haven drew her hand back.

“Sorry,” the both of them said at the same time.

A beat. Neither of them spoke, neither of them moved. The demon clenched and unclenched a fist.

“Silver,” he said.

Haven waited for him to explain, but as the seconds passed and turned into minutes, she realized he wasn’t going to. She touched the cloth to his shoulder again and ignored the flinch this time, as there was no way to avoid it. She brushed the cloth along a long red gash, trailing in between his shoulder blades and down to the small of his back. Again. And again.

“It’s the silver,” the demon said. “The angel liked the silver-lined whip because it leaves scars.”

Haven paused. Lifted her hand away from his skin. Blinked. She had no idea how to even respond to such a thing.

“That’s horrible.”

The only words she could manage, the only consolation to a man now forever marked by what had happened to him that no healing powers would ever be able to fix. The demon seemed to feel this knowledge as keenly as she did, for he trembled under her fingertips. His skin jumped as tiny tremors ran through him, muscles taut and unyielding.

Haven set her cloth in the bowl of water, already pink with blood. She moved from behind the demon and sat in the chair facing him, and saw that he was crying. Silent tears rolled down his cheeks and his breaths hitched, but he bit his tongue to keep himself from crying out.

“You don’t have to do that,” Haven said.

The demon tilted his face up to look at her, a few more tears escaping from those viridian eyes. He blinked at her. Droplets of water caught in his lashes like morning dew.

“Keep quiet, I mean,” Haven clarified. “Cry all you want. Scream, if you must. I don’t mind.”

The demon blinked a few times, his face pinched in confusion. “You would…like me to scream?”

Haven’s eyes widened. “No, no, that’s not what I meant!”

“I can, if you’d like me to. The angel said it was a pleasing sound, though she was rather more vicious than you.”

Haven exhaled, seconds away from pinching the bridge of her nose in exasperation. “I meant, you don’t have to be quiet! You’ve been hurt, terribly and irrevocably, so you can react to it however you want to, and you needn’t feel ashamed or that you must soften your grief in front of me.”

“Oh.”

The only word that fell from the demon’s lips, plainly and without intonation. He stared at her, watching her again as if she were the only thing he had to keep him from falling into an endless abyss. Haven leaned in and wrapped her arms around him, making sure not to startle him as she enveloped him in a hug. She felt the demon lean into her and nuzzle his face into the crook of her neck, just as he’d done when she’d helped him from the cave she’d summoned him to. Some of the tension in his body dissolved, and while he still shook either with fear or with pain, Haven took it as an improvement that he could find some modicum of comfort with her.

After releasing each other, Haven found her hands red with blood. The demon opened his mouth, no doubt to apologize, but Haven shushed him before he could. She washed her hands with her cleaning cloth before dropping it back in the bowl of water.

“I could draw you a bath, if you’d like? It’d help you get clean faster than this, and it’d probably feel better too.”

The demon drew back from her as if she’d just told him she was going to waterboard him. The thought occurred to her that, given what had already happened to him, that wasn’t too far out of the realm of possibility for him to believe.

Haven held her hands up, palms out, to reassure him she meant no harm. “Just a bath. Nothing to hurt. No holy water. Just cleaning.”

The demon hesitated, choosing his words carefully. “And you won’t…try to drown me?”

Haven really hated that her suspicions were correct.

“Of course not,” she said, offering him a tight smile.

She held out a hand to him, which he took shakily in his own. Haven wrapped his arm around her shoulders so that he could lean on her and they made their way up the stairs. It was a slow procession due to his broken ribs, and that every time he whimpered, Haven wanted to stop, but knew they had to keep going since it would do neither of them any good being stranded halfway up the stairwell.

Haven pushed open the door to her bedroom and wished she’d had the foresight to pick her things up off the floor beforehand. The demon didn’t seem to mind. His eyes had glazed over, hazy with pain and exhaustion. The night had been tough on him with the journey here. Being thrown from the front door by her protection ward she’d foolishly forgotten about and then being made to sit while Haven fruitlessly tried to scrub the blood off him with damp cloths from the kitchen had likely exhausted him beyond what he could reasonably stand.

“I’m sorry,” Haven found herself saying.

She wished she could convey just how sorry she was in those words, but didn’t know how else to say it. I’m sorry you were tortured. I’m sorry you were hurt so terribly. I’m sorry I didn’t help you when I first saw you, that I doubted you, that I don’t know how to help you, that you’ll have to live with these scars for the rest of your life and all the comfort you have is me when you deserve so much more—

The demon shook his head. “The cell I was held in was far dirtier than this, so pay it no mind.”

Haven found her cheeks reddening. She’d meant to apologize for not letting him rest as she’d wanted to get his wounds cleaned first, but huh. It seemed he had noticed the mess of her room after all.

Turning her gaze away from the wreck of her floor, she lead the demon into her bathroom en-suite. Sat him down on a little round stool she had by the door. Fetched some water for the bath and a few towels. Busied herself with getting everything ready, trying not to think about what she was doing and how she was likely breaking so many rules of what a good witch should not do.

Making a contract with a demon? Check. Letting a demon out of the summoning circle? Check. Bringing said demon not only into her home, but into her bedroom? Double check.

Oh well. She’d never particularly considered herself a stickler for the rules.

A quick spell, and the water was heated, good and steaming. Haven plucked a bottle from the windowsill next to the tub and dripped a bit of floral oil into the water, hoping the scent of lavender would soothe the demon enough that he wouldn’t panic at the thought of being left alone for however long it took for him to wash.

Haven looked back at him and saw his head lolled to the side, resting on the wall next to where he sat. His shoulders had lost their tension and his hands no longer fidgeted restlessly. No more tremors wracked his body, fraught with pain and terror. Haven stood motionless, not wanting to disturb him when he was clearly so exhausted, but it was as if he sensed the lack of energy where there previously had been an abundance of, and his eyes flickered open.

Blearily, his gaze found hers. He lifted his head from the wall and Haven made her way over to him with a towel.

“Here, for when you’re done,” she said, then placed it to the side of the stool he sat on.

The demon looked at it, then to her, then to the bath. Haven moved to help him up, then drew back when she was sure he wouldn’t fall without her support.

“Well, I’ll be waiting outside if you need me.”

Haven made to leave. She’d barely touched the doorknob when she heard the demon voice a single word, small and fearful.

“Stay.”

Haven whirled around. “I’m not going far.”

The demon squeezed his eyes shut, clenching his hands into fists. “Please,” he said, forcing the word from his lips like it pained him to do so. “Please just…” He opened his eyes and fixed them on hers. “I don’t want to be alone.”

He stood there, body rigid, barely holding himself upright without her help. Bruises painted his skin like he were abstract art and the holy water that had been drawn on him trailed lines across his chest and shoulders and even around his neck. Scars—thick bands around both of his wrists—were inflamed and red. Even more Haven couldn’t see lined his back, a permanent reminder.

Haven nodded. she could do at least that much.

“Okay. I’ll stay.”

—  

next

(taglist in reblogs)

#whump #whump writing #my writing #willow writes #original work: demon’s haven #oc envy #oc haven #demon whumpee #demon whump #witch caretaker #platonic bathing trope my beloved #that's what's coming up

[whumpbump]

Baby pt 2 - The bottle

Cw: non-con drugging via eye drops, non-con undressing, forced bathing

Baby? Oh hell no I’m not their BABY I’m their CAPTIVE. I need to get out of here. Whumpee panicked as they began to struggle against the strong arms that elevated them.

Whumper 1 grabbed a blanket and quickly swaddled Whumpee so they couldn’t run. They were certainly small enough to control. That was one of the reasons they were chosen to be “adopted.”

“Now, now, Baby, hold still for us,” Whumper 1 instructed. “You need a bath and dinner. You haven’t eaten in awhile and growing babies need their nutrients!”

“No! Nngh! Ah!” Whumpee did NOT want to be undressed by these creeps but before they could struggle more, their left eye was forced open and something was dripped into it. “WHAT DI YOUH H DH-OOH Hu hhh-“ They were hazily watching the two now carry Whumpee out of whatever holding area they were in before to a clean, warm bathroom.

From here, Whumpee’s memory flew by in clips. They remember hands on their small, incapacitated body. Not in ways that were inappropriate, but more like efficiently working to strip them down and checking on any cuts and bruises. Every time one was found, they were cooed at. “Oohhh that must hurt I’m So sorry Sweetie.”

Their small, vulnerable body was placed gently in the tub as warm water rose. “Hu hhu” Whumpee whimpered pathetically. They didn’t understand what was happening or why but they were wet and naked and scared. They were shushed gently and washed with the utmost care as these strangers wanted only the best for their new prize.

Now dried and warmly dressed in footy pajamas that were suspiciously their size, Whumpee was cradled securely against Whumper 2’s chest - the stronger of the two - and carried to a large high chair. Still in the throes of the eye drops, Whumpee clumsily moved their arms and legs to try and keep from being contained once more. They were neither fast nor strong enough before they were belted in. Almost as if this was not the first time such an action had occurred in that kitchen.

The muzzle was removed at the time of the bath since Whumpee was so anesthetized that they could hardly close their drooling mouth (which was accommodated for by a brightly colored bib.) Whumper 1, the smaller and louder of the two, turned around to face Whumpee and Whumper 2 at the dining area with a large supply cup with something that looked not very appealing inside.

“Uhh. UhhUUHHuhjhhh-“ “Shhh it’s ok Babydoll, this is a special mix we’ve come up with to support all nutrients that you need. It shouldn’t taste too bad either. As good as the breast. Right, Whumper 2?”

“That’s right, now get ready for dinner, heeerreeee it comes!”

#whumpee #whumpblr #whump blog #whump ideas #whump #whump inspiration #whump tropes #whumper #whump community #creepy whumper #defiant whumpee #intimate whumper #multiple whumpers #cw noncon #noncon drugging #forced bathing