Taken from this post of mine:)
Content: Asphyxiation, collars, burns, heat whump, [implied] pet whump, choking, dehydration, immortal whumpee, begging, gags.
Whumper tightening Whumpee's collar by one hole each time they misbehave. Really, it's up to Whumpee as to whether they want to be able to breathe or not within the next few hours.
Whumpee stucks their tongue out after a certain amount of time without air, and Whumper thinks it's the cutest thing ever. Cue them randomly reaching out to choke them and just waiting to see Whumpee start to drool and for their tongue to stick out.
Whumpee's raspy breaths in as the force around their neck slowly tightens.
Shoving their face near a pot of boiling water and threatening to drown them in it.
Whumper trying to "squeeze the tears out of them". AKA Whumpee cries when they're choked.
Whumpee mouthing the word "please" over and over again and Whumper choosing to take it as "squeeze harder".
That huge gasp of air and the way their body writhes when they're finally able to breathe again.
A reverse gag being shoved down their throat until they learn to be respectful.
The little choked whimpers that Whumpee lets out as their airflow is cut off.
Forcing so much water down a dehydrated whumpee's throat that it chokes them.
An immortal whumpee who can't pass out from suffocation, blood loss, etc. being forced to live in a constant state of asphyxiation that would kill a mere mortal in minutes.
Okay mock executions are fucking terrifying I have not seen nearly enough of them in the whump community.
Whumpee who knows they’re going to die the next week/day/few hours and there’s nothing they can do to stop it. The panic and desperation with no outlet. They claw at their restraints and throw themself at the door to their cell, uncaring as bruises bloom across their skin, or as blood begins to build up underneath their nails. They’re willing to sacrifice everything for the futile, fleeting hope of escape. They scream and beg until their voice goes hoarse even though there’s no one nearby to listen. Eventually, they crumple in on themself to the awful realization that their future is set and cut. They can’t even sleep without their dreams being plagued with this lingering terror. Maybe they’ve seen Whumper kill someone in the manner they’ve told Whumpee they are to be executed, so Whumpee can’t even pretend to think that maybe Whumper is bluffing.
When the day comes, they still haven’t settled into their fate. They’re absolutely hysterical, doing everything they can to stay away from Whumper and [insert place where they were planned to be executed]. Of course, this does nothing. If they won’t walk, Whumper’s men will simply drag them. At one point maybe Whumpee manages to break free for a short moment of hope, managing to throw their elbow against Henchman’s stomach and twist away, actions fueled only by the adrenaline flooding their mind. They take a single desperate lunge towards the door, before something hard catches them upside the head and knocks them down. Their vision is fuzzy and fleeting, hearing nothing but a faint ringing. Maybe they’re unconscious altogether as Henchman picks them up and continues to drag them towards their final destination.
Whumper plays out everything the way it was intended. They tie the blindfold over Whumpee’s eyes, exchange their chains for softer restraints. Whatever. Then when it comes time for the strike, for the blade to pierce through their chest or slit across their neck, all that Whumpee feels is a small prick against their neck, something cold flood through their body before their thoughts collapse under the intensify of the stress and their mind gives out.
Wherever they wake the following day, let it be somewhere much worse than death’s doorstep or a place so peaceful Whumpee couldn’t even begin to comprehend, Whumpee will be terrified. Panicked and confused. Their thoughts will have no answer as they realized there is no one else around to answer their cries. They wonder if this is death, the afterlife or whatever it was called.
That hope is crushed, replaced by even more of a helpless confusion as Whumper strolls through the door moments later, grinning as they ran their fingers across the sharp of a blade.
hey friend! do you have anything wildly fucked up for sensory deprivation and / or sensory overload? Maybe a prompt list...? i'm writing and looking for some brainpower. fyi kiddo is already tied up + in a stress position + has barely eaten in four days + obviously having a great time. and in any case pls have a beautiful weekend :)
Ofc!!
Only the restraints and cold air breaking the silence. Painful when they shouldn’t be because it’s so enhanced by the nothingness.
Hearing ringing in their ears or their own heartbeat, even little things like breath or swallowing driving them insane.
“..is anyone there..? c-can anyone hear me…?”
When Whumpee’s been limp for so long that no one can tell if they’re awake or sleeping.
The blindfold and/or headphones aching, burning even, against their skin they’ve been there so long.
Hands falling numb, and pins and needles in their feet or legs from lack of movement and circulation.
Whumpee no longer able to remember what position they’re restrained in. Nothing makes sense. Are their arms up or down? Which way was the door again?
Ultra-sensitive hearing. When Whumper taps on their headphones or earplugs, it’s so loud it’s like lightning cracking through their skull.
That lovely moment when the blindfold finally comes away and Whumpee covers their eyes back up, crinkling against the sky because it’s so bright.
Whumpee only gets Whumper’s touch. That’s it. Whether it comforts or hurts them, they’re grateful for it.
And of course, that moment when a whip slashes across them, and they gasp a scream at the sudden invasion of their nothingness, almost overwhelmed by the shock of something so intense after the muted empty.
Hot and cold at the same time. Alternating so quickly the body can’t even tell which is which.
Not just loud music - a variety. All kinds of ever changing sound and volume.
Are the lights getting darker or is it just me? No…no they’re g- …no they seem lighter now….i swear they were more orange a second ag- no no they’re definitely changing-
Multiple types of pain at once. Stab, then superheat the blade. Then twist.
“You can take another, right?”
Hurt Whumpee while suffocating them. They’re so desperate for air that they don’t care about the pain as much, yet the pain sends them into a frenzy which makes the suffocation work which makes then thrash which makes them hurt more wh-
Forcing Whumpee to solve random puzzles, answer questions, do math, etc while in a stress position. Pain mixed with the balance mixed with the brain games. Keep them overloaded in every area you can. They’ll get exhausted all that much faster.
“Ss-s-stop- ple-ease jus-just make it st-st–..jus for a minute-please-”
Shock collar that keeps Whumpee awake. Zap every time they dip below 80 bpm or so.
That being said, low-level electricity around the clock?? It’s pain but they can allllllmost block it out. Almost. Sometimes.
(TW: sensory deprivation, panic attack, phobia, whip, handcuffs, blindfolded)
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“Why didn’t you tell me you were afraid of the dark? Sweetheart, that’s something I can help with.”
Whumpee’s world swam into darkness as the mask pressed against their eyelids. This wasn’t like the normal blindfolds; this one was fitted and soft. Not a trickle of light could wriggle in from the bottom. No grey, no pink, only pure, suffocating blackness.
Panic immediately clenched in Whumpee’s chest. Darkness was bad enough in their old, safe bedroom, but in this psychos basement? Worse. Somehow - impossibly- worse.
Whumper somewhere in the room with them. Oh fuck. Oh fuck where did they go?
The ground immediately felt unsteady under their feet. Whumpee flexed their fingers open and shut rhythmically, trying to keep their breathing steady. The cuffs bit into their wrists as they did. Their ears strained, trying to find Whumper in the deep blackness. They felt like they were floating. Falling. Screaming. They jerked against the cuffs without thinking. Where are they?? Where are they?!
“Please. Please take it off. Please, I’ll be so good.” Their voice shook more than they expected - some of the squeaking words caught between a whisper and nothingness.
A jolt of panic snapped through Whumpee’s spine as fingertips brushed their cheek - no. Knuckles. Gently. They twitched their face away from the touch without thinking. In front of them. Whumper was in front of them.
Whumper laughed softly, and their breath tickled Whumpee’s left ear. Shit. Fuck. Next to them. Whumpee was next to them.
“So good for me? What are you going to do to be good for me? To persuade me?” Whumper stepped closer, their front pressing against Whumpee’s back. FUCK. Behind them. Whumper was behind them. Final answer. Standing behind, speaking in their ear, reaching around to touch their face. Whumpee was completely surrounded. Surrounded by them. By touch. By darkness. Cold, suffocating darkness. Whumpee barely choked back a sob.
Without their sight, they felt unsteady. Like the ground was at an angle. Like they could fall any minute and would have no idea where they’d land. Maybe they wouldn’t land. Maybe they would fall down down down into the sucking inky void, screaming on and on forever as the darkness ate the sound from their throat.
“Well this is certainly having an effect on you,” Whumper gloated. “You can’t even focus enough to answer one little question.” Whumper’s hand dropped from their cheek and trailed down their waist. Whumpee’s skin twitched under the touch, trying to crawl away.
Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut as tightly as they could manage. Maybe if it’s their choice that they can’t see, the darkness couldn’t devour them.
It did anyway.
“Qu-question?” Whumpee stammered, trying to focus.
Whumper’s fingertips changed direction, skimming small looping patterns over their side and thigh. Completely unpredictable, changing directions sporadically. “Yes, sweet. My question. What would you do to persuade me to take it off?”
Whumpee could feel the strings of the mask burning around their skull. Off. They needed it off. “Anything. Anything, please. Please just take it off.”
“Well thats’s not very persuasive,” Whumper chuckled, using their other hand to make the same velvety soft patterns up Whumpee’s arm. “I’m having a pretty good time right now, so you would have to think of something I want to do even more.”
Off. Off. They were going to take it off. Think of something.
“Darling, I’m not going to wait all night. Make me an offer.”
Whumpee’s heart was pounding in their ears. Think of something. Anything. Something bad. Darkness? No. Not that bad thing. Another bad thing. Something they would like.
Whumpee’s head spun and fell apart into a hundred scattered pieces. The only thing they could think of was the sucking blackness pulling at their skin.
“Better hurry, I’m starting to get bored.” Whumper’s fingers trailed over tender, tingling scars. Whumpee twitched away without thinking, but Whumper only laughed softly. Good. They were usually mad when Whumpee flinched too much. Then they got the whip-
That’s a thing.
“The whip.”
Whumper laughed loudly, making Whumper flinch more. “Ah, so you can talk after all. You really want the whip?”
“Please. Please take it off now. I-I can’t do anymore.”
“No no, darling. I need you to beg me.” Whumper’s hands left Whumpee’s body. That was somehow worse. Whumpee could tell that they were moving but couldn’t tell where. Everything was lost to the void.
Focus. Beg.
“Please. Please. Please take it off.”
Whumper laughed again. Shit. They were in front of them now. The void got smaller. Suffocating them. Squeezing their flesh while trying to rip them apart.
“No no, don’t beg me to take it off. Beg me to whip you. Beg me to make you scream. Tell me how badly you want to bleed for me.”
Pain was coming. So much pain. It sounded like a blessed release - anything but the darkness. They drew in a shaking breath. “Please. The whip. Please whip me.”
“Aww, I think you can be a little more convincing than that.”
Whumpee started to shake so badly they were afraid their knees would give out. The ground still seemed uneaven and sloped under their feet. Just say the words. Say it and it will be done.
“I want you to make me bleed. Please, I want you to whip me. I want to scream for you. I’ll be so good. So, so good. Please take it off and let me be good for you. Let me scream for you.”
Whumpee jerked away as soft fingers cupped their face, but Whumper’s grip help firm. “Now that’s better. So much better. You really are being good for me. You really want me to whip you?”
“Yes. Yes, please whip me.”
“You want to scream for me?”
“I’ll scream so loud. Please. Please.”
“Well how can I say no when my darling is being so sweet? Alright. I’ll whip you.”
Relief flooded Whumpee. Maybe some panic too, but any more panic in their blood was negligible.
“Now thank me for being so gracious.”
Whumpee bit their lip. Just say it and it will be over. “Thank you.”
“You’re very welcome. What a good pet I have.”
Whumpee trembled as Whumper’s hands pulled away from their face. They waited for the mask to slide up and off of them, but it stayed untouched.
“I’m going to take those cuffs off you now,” Whumper said, moving back behind them.
“But you said you’d-”
“Patience, sweet. I thought you said you were going to be good for me? Or would you rather I leave it on all night?”
Whumpee’s mouth snapped shut. Hot tears were starting to fill the mask. They tried to seep back into the creases of their eyelids as the mask pressed close.
“Don’t touch the mask.”
Whumper fiddled with the cuffs for a moment before it clicked off of one hand, then the other.
The Whumpee itched to pull the mask off, but settled for rubbing their aching wrists instead. They were warm and wet - Whumpee hadn’t realized their wrists had started bleeding again. They must have been pulling harder than they thought. The feel of their blood between their fingers made Whumpee dizzy all over again.
They tried to take a step to regain their balance, but that made it worse. Their hands instinctively snapped up to their face to pull off the blindfold.
“Don’t you fucking dare!” Whumper growled, clamping onto Whumpee’s wrists and yanking their arms back down.
“I’m sorry! I slipp-”
“Shut up,” Whumper snapped. “If you so much as touch that mask, I will duct tape it to your face and leave you like that until the weekend.”
Their voice dropped. Low. Dangerous. “And if you take it off?” Whumper’s breath brushed across Whumpee’s face and they whispered, “I will cut out your eyes and you will live in this darkness until the day you die. Got it?”
Whumpee’s chest closed in again. They choked for air, processing the threat.
A sharp pain spread across their cheek as their head snapped to the side. “I said. Got it?”
“Yes. I got it,” came the parroted response. Air flooded their lungs again. Too fast. Too slow. Not enough. Whumpee focused on opening and closing their hands again. They couldn’t start hyperventilating. They would pass out. They didn’t want to black out into a deeper darkness. Focus.
“Good. Now get on your knees. I’m going to whip you just like you asked. And you had better be good for me.”
“But,” The mask burned into their face. Off. They needed it off. “You promised. Please. Please take it off.”
Whumper chucked from the other side of the room. Whumpee could hear them pulling the whip off of its place on the wall.
“You begged me to whip you, so I’ll whip you. You never specified that I needed to take the mask off first. Now get on your knees.”
Whunpee’s hands twitched. They clenched them together to keep from touching the mask. It was hard. Very hard.
“Please just-“
The whip cracked across their chest. Whumpee screamed, stumbling back.
“I said ‘knees’. Now.”
Whumpee hesitated.
“Don’t make tell you again.”
Whumpee’s knees buckled involuntarily, and they sunk to the floor. They couldn’t hold back their sobs anymore. Their breaths came shallow and fast, a sporadic and painful rhythm as they choked on the all-consuming blackness.
Whumpee couldn’t even brace for the pain as their chest tightened more and more. Their hands went numb as the darkness flooded through them. The cold sucking sensation overwhelmed them. The world turned upside down as the blackness pulled them deeper into the void.
Whumpee flinched hard as Whumper’s fingers gently brushed through their hair, but they didn’t pull away.
“Oh darling, you’re such a mess.”
Whumpee continued their choking sobs in response. They were shaking so hard they were afraid they’d topple over and fall into eternity.
“You have been so good for me. You didn’t even touch the mask. I’m so proud of you.”
The mask burned. It pulled in on their face like a python, squeezing tighter and tighter as they gaped for air. The darkness sucked away their warmth, leaving them shaking and numb, fighting for life on the concrete.
“So good indeed. I think you’ve earned a reward, don’t you?”
Searing white light flooded Whumpee’s vision as Whumper slipped the mask up and off. They gasped at the crisp air, eyes darting around the room painfully. Whumpee’s hands flew to their face, and they scrubbed the tears away from their eyes, blinking up at the light. Feeling returned to their fingers, a burning, blessed warmth.
Whumper knelt in front of them, tossing the whip far to the side, out of reach.
“But…” Whumpee stammered, “but, but I thought you-”
“Oh hush, darling. Don’t work yourself back up into a panic.” Their fingers snuck out to caress Whumpee’s cheek, and Whumpee gladly leaned into the soft warmth. “You were very, very good for me. You’ve done enough for today.”
Whumpee blinked at them. “No…no whip?”
“Not tonight.”
Whumpee reached up to hold the hand on their cheek as they processed the words. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you, Whumper. Thank you!”
Whumper smiled at them, warmly but amused. “You’re very welcome.”
Whumper stood up smoothly and retrieved the whip, putting it back in its place on the wall.
“Bring me the mask and cuffs, will you?”
“Of course, Whumper.”
Whumpee located both on the floor behind them. They scooped them up and stood - legs all pins and needles - and quickly brought them to Whumper who took them and tucked them away in their places as well.
“There. Everything where it should be.” Whumper glanced at the clock. “Except you. You should be in bed at this hour.” Whumper turned and gently wiped away the rest of Whumpee’s tears. They hadn’t quite calmed down yet, but they could breathe. That was good enough.
“Let’s get you to bed. And take this with you.” They handed Whumpee a small box.
It was a nightlight. Brand new.
Whumpee looked up at them, eyes wide.
“Thank you.”
“Of course. I told you I could help. I take care of my things. Now, get to bed,” Whumper said, tousling Whumpee’s hair playfully. “I’m sure you’re exhausted.”
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Continued here.
Would you feel like doing some drowning prompts?
@void-fireworks, oh, I'd love to.
Also, HOW did you know I was just trying to think of a topic for a prompt list? Are you psychic? Should I be afraid?
Anywho, here's some things! Enjoy!!
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Whumper’s fingers twisting far too tight into Whumpee’s hair, ripping some loose as Whumpee thrashes under the water.
“Theeeeere you go. Cough it all up. Very good. Okay, now take a deep breath for me. Deeper. There.”
The slow-motion thrashing. Panic building as Whumper has to fight against the water.
“I thought you’d make it at least a full minute. How disappointing. How about we try again?”
Water burning like fire in Whumpee’s sinuses. Pushing against the backs of their eyes. Like frostbite and fire in their lungs.
Whumpee’s eyes wide and frantic under the water. But is it pure water? Or salt? Is there soap? How baldly does it burn their eyes? Tears streaming down their face for hours after, trying to flush out the dry, burning pain.
“Why do you look so scared, pet? It’s just a bath. You don't think I'd hurt you, do you?"
A classic - a whumpee who has been desperately swimming again. They come to a stop, treading water, panting, looking frantically around them. The moment they start to relax, a hand/jaws/rope/whatever clamps down on their ankle, dragging them under before they have the chance to scream.
Darkness. Just darkness seeping in. Is it from the water? Or are their eyes washing over?
Each breath aching and burning after Whumpee coughed up all the water. It feels like there’s still more. There’s always more.
Whumper helpfully patting Whumpee’s back, helping them cough it all up before shoving them under again.
“Are you really going to die like that? In two inches of water. That would be really pathetic of you, don’t you think?”
Drowning in a lake. Whumpee’s fingers clutching at the muck and green, slimy plants, desperately trying to push away, but falling back into the slippery rocks time after time as their vision fades into dark.
Whumpee thrashing against hands at their neck, having no idea how is holding them down. Their face is distorted and blurred by the warped and rushing water between them.
Unconventional drowning, but can we get a shoutout for water-boarding? Thanks.
Whumpee trapped in the brig of a sinking ship. Clawing at the wood and iron bars, screaming for help as everyone scrambled out in a frenzy, not caring to let them out.
“N-no please. I - I can’t. I. I can’t. I can’t br-breathe. Please. No - nnn-NO!”
Whumper shoving Whumpee back under the water without giving them the time to take a full, gasping breath.
Drowning in the ocean. Each wave crashing fresh over their face, giving them just enough air to stay conscious. But how long can they hold on before it’s too much?
That last, desperate gasp of air before they are forced under the water without warning.
Whumper just holding Whumpee tight as they drag them down down down - confident that Whumpee’s panic will ensure they run out of air first.
"Go on, just breathe it in. There's no need to fight me. You're just delaying the inevitable."
Whumpee tied down as the water slowly rises around them. Jerking against their restraints until blood from their wrists dances through the rushing water.
A recovering Whumpee panicking whenever they get too close to a river or when Caretaker tries to draw them a bath.
"Aww, are you getting hungry? I thought so. I'll give you one bite for every minute you can stay under. How about that?"
Also, uh, here's some drowning scenes I wrote before? Feel free to pull whatever you want from those as well!! 1, 2, 3 that last one is awful but i guess you can look at it if you want.
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(If you use any of these, please do tag me because I'm a sucker and just want to read the whump and if you hand-deliver whump to me, I will weep with joy.)
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wormwriting @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar @suspicious-whumping-egg )
for lesbians who feel different / alienated from the common conception of lesbianism
HEAVILY insp. from this post
Content: Defiant whumpee, threats of torture, manhandling, choking, fear of death.
"Lose the attitude, Whumpee."
"What're you gonna do? Torture me? Make my life a living hell? As far as I'm concerned, you already do both. Not like things can get any worse."
Whumper was fuming. One shaking hand slammed Whumpee's head back into the brick wall behind them while the other pinned their arms above their head, preventing them from moving or trying to shove them away.
"Oh, your living circumstances right now will seem like heaven if you push me far enough," they spat, mere inches from Whumpee's now-frightened face. "Do you want to see how bad things can get? Is that why you're behaving like a spoilt brat?"
"N-no, sir." The name was clearly forced. Whumpee never called them 'sir' unless they were scared for their life. "I'm sorry."
Feeling accomplished, Whumper finally let them go. "Glad we cleared that up."
[Pt/ horror attraction /end Pt]
An attraction umbrella that is characterized by the horror genre. The feeling could be sexual, romantic, platonic etc. However it's solely based around the feeling of seeing ones affection as horrific in a horror sense. Other themes can include; blood, screaming, and comfort.
Partner - creature
Crush - chosen
Tagging; @radiomogai @muttchive
Honestly I love when whumpees 'stuck' in one way or another. It's such a lovely and constant source of anxiety through the whole scene whether it's a background factor or the main theme. I just love it. Here, have some prompts!
Whumpee twisting and pulling against the ropes, red rashes and bruising slowly forming with their pathetic attempts.
"Oh, I'm sorry - is that too tight? Good."
Whumpee freezing as they hear the lock on the door click. Realization washing over them.
"If you keep struggling, this will hurt more."
Whumpee beating themself against the door of a closet, desperately trying to break free. Bruising their shoulders and fists over and over again until they slump, sobbing, to the ground.
"Aww, you look so cute just dangling like that. Sorry, but I don't think I can resist giving you a spin."
Whumpee's fingers going numb and tingly from being restrained too long, too tight, or at too odd an angle.
Of course, Whumper pinning Whumpee to the wall. By their wrists. By their arms. A hand at their throat. All good stuff.
OR Whumper slowly advancing as Whumpee skitters back until they are pressed against the wall. Whumper doesn't touch; they just lean against the wall with one hand on either side of them, trapping them.
"Looks like there's no where else to run. What are you going to do now?"
A knife pressed hard against Whumpee's throat. How they immediately stop thrashing, speaking, or fighting. They know if they even flinch, it will break the skin. They go completely still, trying to force desperate breaths to stay shallow and smooth.
Whumpee's arms held tight at an unnatural angle - be it a stress position or just tied a little too tight. The way they shiver and writhe, trying to relieve the pressure.
"If you don't hold still, I'll use barbed wire instead."
Whumpee caught by a hand wound through their hair. They can kick and scream and pull all they want, but they're not going anywhere.
Whumpee finally manages to pick the lock. Sobbing in relief, they wrench the door open to escape - …only to see Whumper staring down at them. “Going somewhere?”
"Last chance. Stop fighting me."
Whumpee with broken bones. Unable to walk. Completely dependent on Whumper to move and/or care for them.
A weak whumpee struggling against a much stronger whumper. The amount of effort it takes to hold them still is almost laughable.
"P-please no. Not the box. Not again. It's - it's s-so small."
Whumpee dangling by their wrists. Legs shaking. Shoulders aching. Hands numb. Alternating between forcing their trembling legs or hold them and letting themselves hang by the shackles. Too tired to cry. Just praying Whumper comes back soon.
Whumpee sprinting through a maze, skittering to a stop as they hit another dead end. They scramble back the other way only to stop dead in their tracks as Whumper rounds the corner.
"Aww. You can hardly even wriggle. No need to look so embarrassed. It's adorable."
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These trope/prompt lists are just a plot for me to be hand-delivered whump I like, so please tag me if you use any.
(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wormwriting @tropes-for-my-md-daydreams @batfacedliar )
Trope Talks: Forced Affection
Tw: intimate whumpers
Whumpers who force their whumpees to play along with their convoluted games of obsessive love. Whumpees who hate that they find it easier to act like they love their whumpers.
Whumpees who who kiss back. Whumpees who lean into whumper’s hand when their hair is stroked. Whumpees who return an embrace from their whumper because they’d rather have twisted comfort than none at all. Whumpees who picture their lover touching them instead of whumper, because otherwise the unwanted intimacy is unbearable.
Maybe they hate it, maybe they shove down the urge to fight every time they’re touched. Every time whumper whispers another sweet, possessive thing in their ear. It’s better than being hurt, so they force themself to endure. Maybe one day they do fight, and they’re punished so horribly for their defiance that they go back to silently upholding the facade of love. Or maybe they decide that the pain is better than the sickly sweet imitation of kindness. They‘ll take a dozen lashes, a hundred cuts, before they’ll accept whumper’s touches without fight.
Maybe whumpee can’t help but enjoy it. Whumper is despicable and they know it, but when they’re picked up bridal style and held to whumper’s chest, they’re too touch starved to care. They melt into every touch, silently pleading for affection because they’re so desperate to be loved that they can’t be bothered to be picky. Whumper’s twisted praise is a relief to them, they want to please whumper if it means being loved. They’ll be hurt either way, at least this way they can be comforted after the fact— even if by the same person who did the damage.
I feel like we don't talk enough about how uncomfortable having your hands tied behind you is, especially if it's tight.
Imagine having to sleep like that! How tired does whumpee have to be to be able to fall asleep while uncomfortable and in pain?
Also - whumpees being tied up for so long their hands lose feeling? Hello?? It would also hurt like hell when they get freed and blood starts circulating properly again.
reblog only, do not perceive me. Used to be a whump blog but I kinda reused it to be a flag/label hoard now. pfp by warriorsproject.
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