#uncomfortable whumpee

[whumblr]

You've heard of: singing silly songs to your pet

Now get ready for: defiant whumpees singing silly songs about how their whumper is an asshole Bonus: Whumper is listening behind the corner.

[blooming-bruises]

Caretakers that don't refuse to call Whumpee a dog or thing when Whumpee freaks out about being called a person or by a name (their name?).

Caretakers that let Whumpee sleep on the floor. Maybe adding a blanket to make it a little softer, but not forcing Whumpee to sleep in a bed.

Caretakers that let Whumpee continue to wear a collar until they're ready.

Caretakers that fight the battles for Whumpee to believe they deserve good things within the framework of their conditioning before challenging the conditioning itself ,,,

[foundfamilywhump]

day 100000 of me seeing a post about 'care/whumpers' and thinking 'that is literally just a whumper who is nice sometimes. you are literally just describing a whumper'

[whumpcloud]

consider: god of life whumper torturing poor mortal whumpee in unimaginable ways to test the limits of mortal life and of their own power and god of death caretaker treating mortal whumpee with care and reverence as they understand how important a life is and would not wish to damage a living being or take a life before its time

[crabofthewoods]

my love for helpless whumpees vs. my deep-rooted fear and embarrassment of helplessness

[cupcakes-and-pain]

Medical whump idea: the Whumper using a cervical collar and/or spine board to immobilize a whumpee (especially if they use it incorrectly >:3)

[befuddled-calico-whump]

One Warning

for Angstpril, Day 27: Til Death Do Us Part (alt)

cw: alcohol/intoxication, stress position, noncon strip, noncon touch, manipulative whumper, fear/anticipation of and referenced noncon

previous ///// masterlist ///// next

•×•×•

Alexei's head was still spinning when he reached Titanium HQ. Not a new occurrence. Grabbing a drink or two after a mission had been normal before the Tower; nowadays it was practically a ritual.

Or in this case, a drink or six. Or seven. Maybe eight. He'd lost count. Lex would pay with a headache the next morning, and normally it would be worth it for the dreamless sleep and numbed thoughts, but tonight Spyglass had ruined his shaky grasp on tranquility.

Pestered him with talk of being good, of fighting back against Uriah, until he was ranting about his year in prison. The last thing he wanted to talk about, the last thing he wanted anyone to fucking hear about, but in the moment, he couldn't stop himself.

Lex tried to forget it on the way home, and it had all but trickled out of his thoughts as he trudged through the hall to his room.

Ball, call, doll, fall, he thought sleepily. As soon as he hit the bed, he'd be out like a light, and tomorrow the memory would be all the fuzzier.

But he could see light coming from under his bedroom door. And before he even reached out to push it open, he knew Uriah would be waiting for him on the other side.

"You ran into Spyglass." It wasn't a question. Uriah was reclining on Lex's bed, a narrow, stiff thing that looked sleek and futuristic but wasn't the least bit comfortable. His room was peppered with similar furnishings; the modern, fashionable stuff rich people liked to use in decorating. No carpet on the shiny wooden floor. No windows.

Lex stayed in the doorway, giving a sharp nod of acknowledgement. He really, really didn't want to do this right now. But what choice did he have?

"You didn't call me," Uriah continued.

"You never said that was part of my job. M' I supposed to notify you every time I see someone jaywalking too?" He made an effort to enunciate, to stand up straight, but the wry look that crossed Uriah's face told him it wasn't enough.

"Drunk again, Alexei?"

He didn't bother denying it. "Got a problem with that? I finished your fucking mission."

The other man shook his head, pushing himself up off the mattress. "Liquor always seems to sharpen your tongue. I'm not sure I like that," he said as he crossed the room. By now Lex knew not to try to shrink back when Uriah reached up to take a fistful of his jacket, pulling him closer until their faces were almost touching.

"Why didn't you tell me about Spyglass?"

"Y'figured it out on your own just fine. What, you need me to hold your fucking h—"

Uriah slapped him. Nothing hard, it barely stung, but it wasn't meant to hurt. It was just another way for Fox to remind him who was in charge here.

Glaring silently at the other man, Lex toyed with the idea of killing him. Right here, right now. He could do it. Might even be able to set the building on fire before they shocked him and beat the shit out of him and dragged him back to the Tower…

He inhaled a little too sharply at that thought, and he could've sworn Uriah flinched at the sound.

Ah. He knows it too.

"You said the rogue team was off the table," Lex said, dropping his voice to a low growl in an effort to seize onto the other man's momentary fear.

But Uriah was already back to his smarmy, composed self. "Hm, perhaps I wasn't clear enough. I won't send you after them, but I still expect you to report any sightings. They are a slippery bunch."

Lex clenched his jaw as Uriah reached for him again, this time smoothing the front of his jacket. "Noted."

"Excellent. Now why don't you take this off? You look uncomfortable."

He knew it wasn't a suggestion. Metal fingers fumbled for the zipper, and he dropped the jacket, making a point to ball it up and throw it into the corner as hard as he could. He left his tank top on, and Uriah didn't say anything about that. Not yet.

"Before I let you sleep, I have one more thing I'd like to discuss. Come have a seat."

As he followed Fox to the bed, a dozen worst-case scenarios flashed through his head, a growing sense of unease momentarily sobering him up, but making the twisting in his stomach that much worse. He sat at the foot of the bed, as far from the other man as possible.

"What were you and Spyglass discussing?" Uriah asked. "I was only able to pick up one half of the conversation."

Lex tried to recall what he'd said, if there was any way he could twist the topic into something that wouldn't give up any of the woman's plans to Uriah, assuming he didn't already know them. He shrugged.

"I was a few drinks in. Kinda fuzzy."

"I see. Then I suppose I'll have to remind you. It sounded like she was asking for your help."

(Kelp, whelp, yelp.) Lex swallowed. "Maybe."

"Well fortunately for you, you turned her down spectacularly," Uriah said. "If the conversation ended there, I'd be in here to reward you for your loyalty."

The mention of loyalty was enough to spike Lex's nausea, but worse than that was what came before. The 'if'.

"But you warned her when you left, Alexei," Uriah continued. "You told her I was listening. You told her to run. And while I can forgive the mistake of not reporting her in the first place, I can't overlook a deliberate sabotage."

Lex could barely hear the last few words over the blood rushing in his ears. His mouth had gone dry. It wasn't enough, was it? One warning wasn't enough for Uriah to send him back, was it?

He wouldn't go. He'd go down fighting, he'd take Uriah with him, he'd burn Titanium down and let it collapse over him. He wouldn't go back. He couldn't go back.

He flinched as Uriah laid a hand on his shoulder, barely able to restrain himself from grabbing the appendage and crushing it.

"You're trembling, Alexei. Are you so afraid of discipline?"

(Flayed, braid, delayed). He didn't dare to look up. "Don't send me back," he whispered. "I-it won't happen again. I'll follow orders."

Uriah chuckled. "Send you back? No. You're still of use to me, and besides, I like you."

The stomach-turning slickness of his tone was nothing compared to the wave of relief that washed over Lex. It took a lot to not slump forward and hold his head in his hands.

"But this kind of incident can't go unpunished," Uriah continued. "Stand up."

Lex did. The sudden wave of fear had sharpened his wits, but his body was still sluggish and swaying, and his head spun as he got to his feet.

"Strip," Uriah said, and he fought through his discomfort as he obeyed, pulling his tank top over his head, fumbling with buttons and zippers until his pants fell, and stepping out of his boots. Better to not dwell on it. To not think at all. Not give Uriah a reason to do anything else.

"I said, strip."

A moment's hesitation, and then Lex was removing his boxers as well, tossing them with the rest of his clothes, then just standing there. Too aware of Uriah's eyes on him, too proud to try and cover himself, no matter how much his skin was crawling.

"Come here." Uriah patted the mattress beside him. This time, the hesitation lasted longer, and when Lex finally began to take small steps towards the bed, he had to resist the urge to squeeze his eyes shut.

There was a small jingling noise as Uriah thrust a hand into his pocket, retrieving a heavy pair of handcuffs. He gestured with his head. "Up to the headboard. Hands behind your back."

Lex bit down on the inside of his cheek, seeking anything to distract himself. It's fine, it's fine, it's not the Tower, it could be worse, it was worse there—

Uriah locked one cuff on. Lex couldn't feel it, but he could hear the clash of metal on metal.

"If you fight me, I'll make this worse," Uriah said, and Lex almost laughed. How many times had he heard that one?

The other man stood on the bed, pulling Lex's arms back and upwards, until his own weight was a strain on his shoulders.

He heard the click of the other cuff locking, but it was a distant sound. He was too focused on the wrinkles on the bedsheets, scattered across the mattress like cracks on cloth.

But the unwanted touch he was bracing himself for never came. Uriah's weight left the bed, and for a moment he just stood beside it, looking Lex over.

"I hope this gives you plenty of time to think about where your loyalties lie," he said, patting Lex's bare thigh. It seemed more condescending than anything else; an odd thing to feel relieved over.

Now that the threat had passed, Lex was becoming aware of the building tension in his shoulders. The only way to ease it completely would be to stand up on the mattress, and even then he'd be forced to duck his head to avoid hitting the ceiling.

"I hope you never forget again," Uriah said as he stepped out, pulling the door after him. "You're mine, Alexei. Goodnight."

It was only a few minutes before his residual arms started to go numb. This punishment would be hell for the night, and he'd probably need to see the company healer for his shoulders in the morning, but he'd take it over others.

Over so many others.

•×•×•

@whumpacabra @enteredin2eternity @kixngiggles @whumpsday @kiichu @whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump @shywhumpauthor @distinctlywhumpthing

[whumpitisthen]

hi i’m the anon from earlier :) and i just wanna say thanks for answering my ask you explained exactly how i feel sooo perfectly. like i’ve always felt this way (wanting to be an irl whumpee) my whole life and i never knew what it meant? cuz i didn’t think it could possibly be a kink because whump is absolutely not sexual to me either. but then i learned that not all kinks are sexual and realized whump is probably a non sexual kink for me too. and finding all this out and that there’s more people like me out there feels so extremely validating because i’ve always felt so alone

anyway to answer ur question, i love carewhumpers soo much. like yesss kidnap me and keep me captive but also be nice to me sometimes and take care of me :) but never let me go no matter how much i beg

referring to this ask

You are valid and i love you i will keep you and probably hurt you but its out of love and i will never let you go kissing you on your head

[chaoticdreamers-world]

for some reason, whumpee gets the jumpseat on the 15-hour flight, just as they were already coming down with a cold.

[wolfeyedwitch]

Character who is dramatic... in inverse proportion to the severity of the situation.

Stubbed toe? Cursing in multiple languages.

Minor inconvenience? Shakespearean monologue level of response.

But when something gets serious? When something has really, really gone wrong? They are laser focused, no humor or drama in sight.

Flat Affect Whump

Caretaker doesn’t know something is wrong with Whumpee until Whumpee outright tells them.

Whumpee asks how normal they look and Caretaker says they look completely relaxed. Whumpee then replies that they are not relaxed, and feel terrified.

Whumpee whose affect is always flat during crisis because of trauma making them view it as a weakness others can exploit.

Whumpee whose affect becomes flat during a crisis because they no longer have the energy to mask.

Whumpee who suddenly cannot see straight acting as if they can and looking in the direction of people’s voices.

Whumpee forcing their face into an expression of pain when they’re injured as a form of communication because they’ve been ignored in the past for not looking like they’re in pain.

Caretaker is accused of being cold by other Caretaker for not showing emotion on their face.

Whumpee sounds like they’re laughing because they don’t know how else to respond to the pain

Whumpee who is never afraid in the moment, but experiences a delayed reaction to fear hours or days after. Something happens and everyone praises Whumpee for being so calm and don’t think to check in on them because they seem fine. Hours later, Whumpee is struck by extreme fear while sitting alone in their room. Caretaker finds them and comforts them.

[digital-nova]

Winged whump prompts

plucking out ‘ugly’ feathers and replacing them with synthetic ones.

adorning the wings with heavy, gold jewellery that weighs them down.

feathers that can’t grow back.

wings hurting to open properly because they’ve been uncomfortably restrained for so long.

painting the feathers. a small, intimate task that requires time and patience, from both whumpee and the artist.

wings being held up by chains/ropes, on display for anyone to marvel at.

breaking wings as punishment.

wings being removed entirely to go on display in a gallery/museum. are they known to be real? or does someone take credit for creating them as an art piece?

in a medical setting, wings requiring their own set of restraints to keep whumpee from moving.

wings being the only part of whumpee that is valued and cared for. without them, they are worthless.

whumpee forgetting how to fly after being in captivity.

alternatively: not being able to because of how damaged their wings are.

feathers starting to fall out because of how terrible whumpee’s condition is.

[whumpalicious]

Hehe, it's gammel. It basically means weak or unsteady. You're not sick per se, but everything feels off. Exactly like described there.

Weeïg is another fun one, it has the same vibes but a little more towards nausea

hello whump community, today I put forward for your consideration:

that horrible unwell feeling you get when you're sleep deprived. headaches, stomach aches, feeling cold and disoriented

that's all

[whump-in-the-closet]

give me whumpees with scars they can't hide. Not by a scarf, long sleeves, or even a mask. Give me whumpees whose hair has gone white with stress, give me whumpees whose hands shake and are always unsteady, give me whumpees with amputated limbs and scars that split their features. Uncomfortable scars. They aren't aesthetic they aren't pretty they just are. And then let them deal with hushed "oh god"s and the stares and the whispered conversations behind their backs. Let the recovery break them in ways not even the torture could.

[thechaoticfanartist]

Things about crying I'd love to see in more whump:

- Being tired. Even if they weren't tired before they're tired now. Crying takes energy. Sometimes they sleep easier after crying.

- Eyes hurting. It may just be me but sometimes eyes can hurt after crying. It's not talked about enough.

- Dried tears!! Whumpee who has cried but can't/ doesn't wash their face and so now they can still feel where their tears have dried and their skin is uncomfortable. Perhaps hurting/burning to tie into the last one.

[vivisectedboy]

"Just focus on your breathing. Yeah, good, like that."

Whumpee tries their best to stay in control. To collect themselves. To stop their mind from screaming at how wrong all this is. To ignore Whumper's hand still resting on the knife.

"In," while Whumper counts to three on his fingers, "and out." an other three seconds.

It's uncomfortable at first.

"In,"

Their body isn't used to the rhythm, their lungs fill up too fast and too shallow, and their exhales are accompanied by miserable noises forced out of their throat.

"Out."

But their breathing steadies slowly. Their body isn't shaking violently anymore, their hands aren't desperately grasping Whumper's shirt, their thoughts getting less and less jumbled.

"In."

They recoil at the sheer absurdity of the situation. Sitting in their captors lap, his hands running up and down their exposed back. The same hands that held him down and scarred him forever.

"Out."

They hate how despite this, they managed to calm down. For a moment of impossible peace, only their breaths exist, and the warmth they've been craving for so long.

"In." He says, tightening his grip on the knife.

Their mind switches back instantly as they notice the blade shift in Whumper's hand. With the swiftest movement, it's now held against their throat, threatening to cut if they dare exhale too early. Panic sets in once again, their heart rate rising with every painful second.

They close their eyes as their vision starts to go black. Their chest feels like it's about to burst from the pressure.

"Out." After what feels like several minutes, he finally commands.

Whumpee is only relieved for a moment, as they exhale, but it doesn't last long.

It's even worse this time. Their lungs burn. Their ears start to ring, and they feel their heart pounding in their throat. Black spots start appearing in the corner of their vision again, and they just can't help it. They reflexively suck in a small, hitched breath. They, of course, quickly realise just how big of a mistake that was.

Whumper pushes the knife harder against their throat, and as they try to squirm away, they're stopped by his hands firmly holding his back.

"You only breathe, when I say so. Do that again, and I might just go a lot deeper. Understood?"

Whumpee nods, only driving the knife further into his skin. Whumper grins at their desperate struggle not to breathe, panic growing with each second. Even when he moves the blade, they don't make a sound, only the slightest movement and a small twitch of his facial muscles.

"In."

A horrible gasp, on the verge of tears. They can't cry, that would surely be the end. They keep staring at the ceiling. It hurts so bad. Drops of sweat roll down his neck, mixing with the blood from the wound. Their hands start to go numb, either from clenching them too hard, or from the lack of oxygen. Just keep looking up. They let their mouth fall agape, closing their throat instead. Keep looking.

"Don't pass out."

The ceiling is spinning. Is there a fan? Or is that just a lamp?

It won't stop spinning. It's so bright.

Keep looking. Keep looking. Up.

"You can do it. A few more seconds."

Where is that sound coming from? A repetitive thump-thump-thump from afar. The kind of bass that reverberates in your whole body. Must be a concert somewhere.

Did they turn the lamp off-

"Out."

[sugarsweetwriter]

Whumpee who's required to go to weekly therapy sessions.

Whumpee who takes hours of pleading with to finally get to the car, where they sit quietly for the whole car ride, stiff and uncomfortable.

Whumpee who clings to Caretaker's side for the whole therapy session, unwilling to let go of them even when it's supposed to be a one-on-one appointment.

Whumpee who practically runs back to the car the second the clock strikes whatever time the appointments supposed to end.

Caretaker who feels so guilty for having to drag Whumpee to these appointments while knowing how much Whumpee despises them.

Caretaker who takes Whumpee out to do something fun they enjoy after every appointment.

Caretaker who cuddles up with Whumpee on the bed/couch whenever they get home to watch a show or movie and give Whumpee their favourite food or snack.