#covert whump

[for-the-ouchies]

Whumpee who seems an alright, well-adjusted type of person, nothing clearly hidden about them, until one day they just disappear. Only then their friends, trying to find them, start digging into whumpee's past.

And oh, the things they find.

[pain-in-the-everywhere]

Caretaker and Whumpee are in a relationship. It's not going well. Whumpee lies constantly, keeps secrets, is doing a lot of 'overtime' at work, coming home later and later. And then they get snappy at Caretaker whenever Caretaker tries to bring any of this up.

Caretaker doesn't want to break up with Whumpee, but they know things also aren't working between them, so they get a therapist. Privately, without Whumpee knowing. They vent their frustrations about how Whumpee's attitude and behaviour is hurting them. About how they think Whumpee might be cheating because they're being too secretive around their phone, and, no matter what lengths Whumpee goes to to hide them, Caretaker has seen those fucking hickeys.

It sounds like a classic case of cheating. Whumpee's fallen in love with a co-worker, or is maybe having a secret affair with their boss. The usual dramas. But Caretaker still loves Whumpee despite all of this, and they want to try to make it work. So they work with their therapist to come up with a way to have an actual conversation with Whumpee. Non-confrontational, open, "I just want to hear you out."

And it works. A little too well.

It starts out hostile. Whumpee is defensive as usual, and then they just... break down. The truth comes tumbling out. Whumper has been abusing them for months, threatening them to keep quiet, hurting them so badly they've had to miss shifts at work to go to the hospital then make up the lost hours with overtime. And Caretaker listens with increasing horror as Whumpee gets more and more upset because fuck they have misjudged this terribly.

They comfort Whumpee the best they can, then immediately text their therapist.

"We had the conversation. It's... a little more complicated than I thought."

[tracingthetapestry]

child whumpee who desperately wants to be left alone when it comes to... what happens at home. last time a teacher had gotten a little too curious after they burst into tears during class, they were the one who had to pay for it.

so they try their best to put on a normal act. and it works. but all it takes for it to come crumbling down is when a well-intentioned tutor notices something amiss— and wants to clarify with the child's guardians.

but it sends whumpee spiralling, as they try to convince their teacher— it's okay, I'm okay with that, or they're fine with it, they know, or I deserved it— every new justification only serving to further cement the grim look on the other's face.

[whumpologyy]

Whumper entering the room and the air changing immediately, heavy and expectant and tense, as Whumpee tries to steel themselves for whatever comes next

[survivesurvivingwhump]

whumpee and whumper are in an environment where they’re together often, near constantly. they work together, or live together, or they’re teammates. and whumpee knows exactly what whumper wants.

it’s not that they’re being hit on, not really. whumper isn’t flirting, isn’t making overtures or invitations. it’s more like… attempts. it’s harassment and it’s attempts, every time they’re alone together, or there’s some reasonable expectation of privacy. whumper grabs for them, tries to pin them down, tries to corner them, goes for their clothes. but it’s always halfhearted. whumper isn’t going to fight that hard to get what they want. whumpee is able to fend them off every time.

maybe that’s why they don’t tell anyone. maybe that’s why they keep it a secret. maybe there’s another reason - shame or guilt or threats or an existing trauma background telling them this is inevitable. regardless, it’s fine. whumper never gets farther than some groping, and they always give up, annoyed, without things escalating too far.

until whumpee is compromised. they fell asleep somewhere public or they’re sick or they’re injured. they’re weak. and by the time they realize who’s there with them, whumper is on top of them, pressing them into a couch or a wall or a desk or the floor. they try to fight like they always do, to get away like they always do. but they can’t even manage the pathetic self defence that always made it stop before. and then whumper’s fingers are inside them, and it’s going to get worse, and all they can do is stare at the ceiling and suffocate on self hatred. they’re letting this happen after all.

[luthwhumps]

Oh.

So this post was about Whumpee rejecting comfort from Caretaker bc they're so afraid Caretaker will punish them for accepting it.

What if it wasn't Caretaker they were afraid of? What if it was Whumper?

What if Caretaker thought Whumpee was free, but Whumpee knew the truth? What if there was a tiny camera embedded in Whumpee's skin? What if there was a tiny chip in their flesh that could cause brutal electric shocks or even directly stimulate pain whenever Whumper pushed a button? What if Whumper had set Whumpee "free," but both of them know the whump is still going on? Because if Whumpee allows themself any form of comfort, they will be punished for it. If Whumpee doesn't cause themself suffering, Whumper will cause even worse suffering.

And Caretaker has no idea.

[fineiguessimintowhump]

got a little obsessed with this idea. king whumpee and gray eminence whumper who is very displeased to have been disobeyed. publicly.

cw: royal whump, covert whump, manhandling, mentions of punishments

The duke holds the door open for him, a charming smile for the crowd. He bows his head when the king climbs in, also smiling at the crowd. They sit across each other, and the duke keeps one of the curtains open for the king to smile and wave at the mass as the carriage starts moving.

He only lets go when the crowd has thinned, but his smile is gone long before that. As soon as the curtain has closed, the king sinks to his knees. There’s not much space in the carriage and his nose brushes against the archduke’s knee as the man spreads his legs.

“I apologise, Your Grace.”

The duke’s eyes turn towards him with a glint of something cruel as he evenly says, “Whatever for, Your Majesty?”

Truthfully, he doesn’t know, but there’s only so many things he could have done that would make the duke so angry. He speaks clearly, knowing better than to stumble over his words.

“I went against your will. I didn’t think-”

The duke’s hand moves and he flinches, expecting a hit. It only tangles in his hair, pulling his head up sharply. The duke doesn’t look composed anymore, and his voice is not so even as his lips curl into a sneer.

“You were never asked to think, were you?”

The tight space of the carriage makes it feel as though he is looming over the prince when he leans forward.

“Opposing me so publicly – Did you think you were allowed an opinion on my decisions? That you could… express it? Publicly?”

The hand in his hair tightens its grip and the duke shakes him a little. He doesn’t even try to speak to defend itself.

“I think not. I think His Royal Majesty simply forgot his place.”

The king swallows. He tries to lower his eyes, but the duke grabs his chin, nails almost digging into the skin – but not yet; there’ll be another crowd at the palace’s gates.

“My apologies, Your Grace. I didn’t- I didn’t realise it meant so much-”

He can’t flinch away from the slap. It’s almost a relief that the duke has let go of his hair, both because his neck and back were starting to hurt and because there’s no way he could have dressed his hair again if it became too dishevelled. He doesn’t have the luxury of another blunder right now.

“You naïve little fool. Everything I do means something. Every. Single. Thing.” Every word is punctuated with a sharp squeeze of the hand holding his chin, and the king assumes it’s already reddened. He can’t feel crescent-shaped things digging into him yet, which should make it easier to hide.

The duke is in control enough – and kind enough – to not backhand him. There are no rings to scratch at him, and he shouldn’t bruise from this.

“I don’t know what’s gotten into that pretty little head of yours, but we’re going to fix it.”

Another flinch from the king, who forces himself to meet the duke’s eyes. “Please, Your Grace, I swear-”

The duke surges forward, pulling the king along. The king is slammed against the carriage’s wall, pinned under the duke’s frame. The duke is still holding his chin, but his other hand trails down the king’s chest, fingers splayed possessively.

“You’ve been such a wicked ward, haven’t you? Teasing me, defying me, making such a spectacle of us both.” He presses close, lips brushing the shell of the king’s ear. “Don’t worry, Your Majesty, I’m going to take good care of you. Do such a good job reminding you of your place.”

He keeps the king pinned a while longer before relaxing his grip and stepping away. The king sinks back to his knees, burying his face into the duke’s robes.

“Your Grace, please-”

“That’s more like it. This is the respect you should have shown to me earlier.” He buries his hand in the king’s hair, almost petting. “Shh, there’s no need to cry. I’ll guide you. Put you back into your proper place.”

He tilts the king’s head up with a brush of his knuckles. “It’s my responsibility – my right – to discipline you when you stray.” His thumb brushes softly over the king’s lower lip. “We’ll work together, you and I, hmm?”

“Please-”

The duke tries to maintain his façade but his eyes glitter with satisfaction, something almost predatory in the way he looks down. He loves seeing this – a desperate, submissive king, completely at his mercy and grovelling for forgiveness.

“Shh. I told you there was no need for his.”

His hand moves from the king’s chin to his throat. His grip stays lax, more possessive than anything else.

“I suppose it’s been a while, but that’s no reason to behave like this.” A sharp squeeze to make the king meets his eyes. “When we arrive, you’re going to walk beside me; head held high and that pretty smile of yours for the crowd.”

His grip tightens a little as a flash of anger darkens his face. “If you even think about disobeying me again, so publicly at that, I will destroy you. Is that clear?”

The king swallows, throat bobbing under the duke’s grip. He nods, but it doesn’t relent. He lowers his eyes.

“Yes, Your Grace.”

A smile spreads on the duke’s face, wicked and slow. He lets go of the king’s throat, fingers trailing down. He leans back slightly.

“Good boy, I knew you’d see reason.” He starts straightening his collar and smoothing out any wrinkles with meticulousness.

“Remember, love, your happiness, your safety – your very existence depends on pleasing me.” His tone is gentle, almost sweet. “I can be very generous to those who obey, darling. You’ve seen it.”

He pulls the king up, pushing him back on the settee and not paying him any more attention as he tries to quickly straighten his clothes. The carriage slows down as they approach the gate and a smile is back on the duke’s face. “Let’s put on a good show, hmm? Smile for your adoring subjects.”

He doesn’t grant the king any time, quickly opening the door. The king pushes himself up and almost scrambles – but not because that would be stupid – forward to smile and wave and pretend.

 The duke steps out behind the king, leaning close. “Such a good king, aren’t you? So well-trained, so obedient.” His hand finds the small of the king’s back in a gesture that appears supportive. It burns like a brand but neither of their smiles waver.

He raises a hand to acknowledge the crowd’s adoration, smile just shy of seductive. “Please, Your Majesty. We have much to discuss in private.”

He bows slightly, letting the king leads them – though the latter stiffens with every step. The mask falls as soon as they’re behind closed doors, and the duke stalks forward.

“Alone at last,” he almost purrs, matching the king’s retreat step for step. “Now then, my disobedient little pet,” he grips the king’s wrist tightly, pulling him flush against his chest. “Let’s discuss your transgressions properly, shall we?”

[redcarpetwhump]

whumpee who is very vocal about a topic. advocating against abuse, maybe they played the role of a victim in a movie and now they're being praised for it. or maybe they revealed something from their past and receive a lot of support.

whumper watching an interview or reading posts to whumpee. mocking. "you're so brave, aren't you. so strong"

yes yes yes yes yes. this is something i do so often with my celebrity ocs. there's so many ways to go about it, but my favourite is when the advocacy is very personal to whumpee, but it looks completely performative because it's not safe for them to admit they've been through what they're talking about. especially if the abuse situation is ongoing.

because whumpee is rich and famous, it seems really shallow to talk about this as if they can understand. because there's more than just empathy in the way they speak. it's like they have experience with it, but they don't. they can't. so people take it as whumpee speaking over "actual survivors" or downplaying what it's really like to live with trauma because "they played a character with PTSD in a movie and now they think they know what it's like??? what the fuck???"

and whumper's involvement oh my goddddd. letting whumpee go out there and make all these speeches and raise all this awareness to put an end to the horrific things they talk about, then laughing because when the cameras are turned off and whumpee and whumper are alone, it's clear whumpee's words are entirely empty.

"you're so brave in front of the cameras, telling people you want to help them. so brave, and so full of shit," whumper laughs. whumpee flinches. "go on, stand up to me like you stand up for them. put a stop to it."

another thing i love doing with this trope is having whumpee publicly base their advocacy off abuse they've experienced "in the past", but in reality it's a cover-up for something that's still ongoing. nobody is going to question that things are wrong now if whumpee says they've escaped the problem. everyone knows they have PTSD. everyone knows they might act differently sometimes or have bad days. everyone knows it happened to them. so when they see all the signs that things are really not good on whumpee in the present, they assume they're just going through a rough patch with memories from the past.