whump.

While everyone is welcome here, please proceed with caution! The dove has been dying for a while.

Reblogs will be centered around the following tropes:

Manhandling, restraints, scared whumpee, creepy/intimate whumper, carewhumpers, multiple whumpees, kidnapping, lab whump, NSFWhump

You will rarely, if ever, see the following tropes on my account:

Nonhuman characters, ladywhump, environmental/whumperless whump, fantasy/royal AUs, romantic subplots, sickfics, recovery arcs, living weapons

Masterlist under the cut.

Content: Intimate whumper, noncon kissing, noncon touching, implied noncon/SA, pinned down

Hands pressed down on Whumpee’s shoulders, pinning them down to the firm mattress. Whumper’s body weighed down on top of them, making it virtually impossible to move. Their body and arms were crushed under their weight, only able to slightly shuffle their legs and turn their head. It all put pressure against their bruises, but alongside the sleep deprivation and constant fighting, Whumpee was much too tired to complain. By the end of the torturous day, Whumper liked to have a different kind of fun with their plaything.

-> Struggling until completely devoid of energy — then going limp.

-> Restraints that are technically for safety.

-> Whumpee continues testing the cuffs with extreme stubborness before realizing they won’t budge... A deep sadness settles in their eyes.

-> Caretaker having to restrain them — and hating every moment of it.

-> Being sedated while crying/begging.

-> Being pinned down during treatment. Whether it's by Whumper or Caretaker... doesn't matter... It'll give them nightmares for sure.

-> “This will hurt” said gently, firmly... also doesn't matter.

-> Strapped tight, flinching before they’re even touched.

-> Being held down while begging them to stop.

-> Restraints left on longer than necessary, friction adds to the agony of the situation.

Starting out biting and kicking and screaming, lashing out at anyone who gets close like a rabid dog.

When they run out of energy to thrash, they’re spitting insults, hurling threats and curses at everyone in earshot.

By the time they can’t shout anymore, they’re sneering and flipping the bird at anyone who can see them.

Hands that had so cruelly held them down hard enough to leave bruises, now cradled them so gently, carefully washing away the blood and filth. "I'm sorry, this might sting a little," as they go over bite marks and raw flesh, said so lovingly by the same voice that earlier told them, "Shut up and take it, you good for nothing whore," that voice that had whispered such vile things that echoed through whumpees mind now crooning soft comforts and praise, "You're doing so well."

Whumpee who never feels clean. They're gross, disgusting, dirty, ruined, all those things and more, they want to peel off their rotten flesh, they want to scrub their skin with scalding water until it burns and bleeds, peeling off the layers until they reach something that has never been touched, but nowhere is clean, nothing is safe, they want to submerge themselves in the water, they want to scream-

When they grab Whumpee roughly — yank them around, shove them carelessly where they want them to be — Whumpee scowls. Snaps at them. Much more defiance than fear.

But when Whumper touches them softly…. lets their hands linger just a beat longer…..trails light fingers over Whumpee’s skin….that’s when they see the fear. The way Whumpee’s whole body tenses up as if preparing for something.

with a little bit of pressure applied, their jaw is forced open wide. whumper runs their gloved finger down the smooth, wet muscle twitching in the mouth.

"or would you like me to cut this off?" whumper asks, almost gentle— in the same cadence one would peruse to inquire after someone's day, or the way they like their coffee.

whumpee freezes, any and all sounds dying in their throat.

"that's good," stroking their tongue, praising the quiet and the fear so complete that whumpee seemed to barely be breathing.

YES i love that sort of thing so much.

(also the verbiage of like. describing an assault as someone being used, with that emphasis, that'll always get me. it's such effective language. as an aside lmao)

but just. when the healing is difficult and painful. when they have to be touched for the magic to work - and touched intimately, to heal those intimate wounds. the intimacy and fear and horror but also the trust? if healer caretaker is able to wait until they're ready. until they're able to part their legs themself. giving whumpee as much autonomy as possible.

whumper is crouched over them, invading their space. not touching them much, if at all, but close. and they start murmuring things. telling whumpee what they could do to them, what ways that they could violate whumpee. it's detailed, and extremely sexual. and none of it ever happens.

i could spread your thighs, even if you fought me. i could put my fingers inside of you. i could do it fast, or slow, one at a time or start off with three to feel the way you'd seize up in pain even as you couldn't escape. i could kiss you in any way i want, anywhere i want. and when i fuck you... do you think it would be better fast or slow? should i take you on your back or face down?

it goes on, and on, and on. terror and shame grips whumpee's body. they squirm and try to will their limbs to cooperate, to fight whumper off, to get away before it happens. but they can't. and it still doesn't happen. and afterwards, the memory of that night is foggy, but it's there. and they don't know what to do. the nightmares, the way their body feels like it belongs to someone else, the terror, the shame... they don't know how to live with this. they don't know how to cope.