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painsandconfusion · 9 months

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Wrong Place, Wrong Time

Prompts and starters A collaboration with @wormwriting

[Prompt Masterpost]

“How much did you hear?”

Whumpee crouched and trying to stay quiet until they can slip away. Then the cool barrel of a gun pressing against the back of their head. Bonus for ~click~

“You know what happens now, right?”

Whumpee stumbling home, breath ragged and body in shock still. They stare at the liquor bottle - and without thinking, uncap it and start downing as much fire as they can stand. They don’t want to remember what they just saw. For everyone’s sake.

Whumper shoving a bottle against Whumpee’s chest. “You’re going to want to forget that. I’ll check back in tomorrow to make sure you did.”

Walked into the wrong bar at the wrong time - now they’re a vampire’s lunch.

“Don’t look at me like that. You’re the one who fucked up everything. Now I need to clean up your mess.”

The shaky hand Whumpee presses to their mouth to try to stifle their echoing breaths. Eyes squeezed shut so hard that they might press the memory of what they saw out of their mind.

“How’s about you and me go for a little walk, hm?”

“Sorry kid - boss said no loose ends.”

Whumpee stepping around the corner to see people and blood and heads slowly turning toward them. Seeing them seeing what just happened. Seeing the blood. Seeing them seeing the blood. Whumpee slooooooowwwwwly steps back, eyes stricken with horror-

“Can’t talk without a tongue, right?”

Whumpee driving in the middle of nowhere - how were they supposed to know it would be fifty miles to the nearest gas station? At least they can cal-......they don’t have signal either…

Whumpee flinching at each echoing footstep, tucking further back into their hiding spot. “I know you’re theeeeerrreeeee~ Come out come ouuuut~”

“You know this isn’t personal, right?”

And escaped whumpee bumping into Whumper completely randomly years later. The s t a r e. Aaaaaaand run-

“What are you so scared for? I don’t gotta kill you~”

“Wh-y me?” “You were the easiest to grab.”

Stepping into a bear trap.

Whumpee getting mistaken for a target. Tortured in their place while pleading all the while that they got the wrong mark. Of course, no one believes them.

“Know what you are? A liability.”

The random guy the villain shoots in a bar just to make a point.

“Don’t. Move.”

[Prompt Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog @whump-queen @a-whumped-tea @whumpsday @sonder35)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

(a few of these arent working so if wibbly-wobbly-whump or hold-back-on-the-comfort changed their blogs please lmk <3

#whump #promp list #whump prompt list #collaboration #kidnapping #gun #knife #forced drinking #alcohol consumption #wrong place wrong time #incidental whumpee #murder mention #blood #mouth gore threat #threat #fear #angst #multiple whumpers #wrong whumpee

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surplus-of-sarcasm · 11 months

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Somewhere Beyond the Ashes

TW: Blood, injury, attempts at murder, heart break mention, knives, gun, death threats, torture mentions (very discreet and no graphic description), violence

Yeah, I didn't die. Had a math test, which is close enough anyway. Word count: 1.7 k

“Are you alright?”

The words, like everything else Villain said, seemed to be the very representation of what if velvet was a sound; impossibly smooth and rich, like they were practised time and time again.

They very much were, and Hero knew that much.

Hero had known from the first day he’d stared into those entrancing blue eyes, when his gaze had fallen onto the picture-perfect smile that played across the criminal’s lips. No wonder her civilian identity was that of a movie star, she really did look the part.

But the villain had managed to make him forget it, discard it like another stray, meaningless thought. Like it had never been. She’d seduced the hero so fast, it was beyond humiliating, the shame weighing down on his shoulders like a cinder block.

He hadn’t even realised when it happened, when everything had started slipping through his fingers, he’d only seemed to have woken up from his rose-coloured stupor when it was too late, when he’d completely lost control.

The agency hadn’t prepared him for this. Hero had been taught to handle pain like it was second nature to him, to not crumble under the most gruelling psychological manipulation, to remain unbreakable, stiffer than solid rock as he persevered through the inhumane horrors he was subjected to. Occupational hazards. But even through all this, they hadn’t prepared him for the villain’s gentle concern, for her soft spoken nature, for the heavenly feeling of her fingers carding through his hair or for how pet names felt like honey dripping off her tongue.

They didn’t prepare him for receiving every indulgence he was deprived of his whole life, his cruellest punishment yet.

He’d become immune to the dark seduction that would come from a villain who chose to wear the “charming” mask. To words of affection and purred compliments with ulterior motives. But not to gentle care, not to something so torturously close to being genuine that it drove the crime-stopper insane how intricate the villain’s fabrication of it was. A wonderful actress indeed.

“You lied to me,” the hero stated, turning the full intensity of his gaze onto his nemesis.

“Well isn’t that unfortunate?” the villain deadpanned, staring at her perfectly manicured nails. She was wearing the hero’s shirt, and although it hung loosely off her frame, and she was sporting her morning hair, she still looked impossibly perfect.

“I’d hate to spoil your fun, but it’s empty,” Villain said smoothly as the hero reached for the gun in his waistband, hidden by his clothes.

He checked, “firing” at the clock on the wall. Safety off and everything. The villain hadn’t been joking.

“Don’t bother yourself with looking for these either, love.” She twirled the crime-fighter’s twin throwing knives elegantly, one in each hand.

Hero wanted to slap himself for the soft gasp he let out, met with a wolfish grin dancing across the criminal’s features.

“W-why didn’t you just kill me from the start?” he breathed out. His life may have been at stake, but he would lose whatever pathetic fragments that remained of his decaying sanity if he didn’t know.

“I like to play with my food before I eat it. Like to twist the knife before I push it all the way in. Guilty pleasure,” she continued evenly, as though they were conversing about something as trivial as coffee orders. She sauntered towards him like she had all the time in the world, a lazy smile on her face.

The hero tried to run, but the villain knew exactly where he was headed. “The kitchen, where all the knives are. That would be incredibly clever if I didn’t know you like the back of my hand.”

He registered the words, fully understood the weight of them, but he still ran like hell.

And the villain simply appeared again, lounging on the dining table with one leg over the other, spinning one of the crime-stopper’s knives in one hand and clutching her gun, ironically the same, exact model of the hero’s. The bastard had teleportation powers at her disposal. It didn’t matter that the hero, in a fit of hysterical strength, had flipped the table with the villain on it, or that he’d hurled a chair at her with enough force to fracture her skull. She still managed to evade it. Hero swore, the filthiest words he knew, calling his enemy every vulgar moniker he was aware existed.

She showed up right behind him, wrapping her strong arms around him in a delicate embrace, the blade of the knife pressed into his neck, the gun to his stomach.

“You told me you liked it so much when I hugged you from behind. So I thought I’d give you a little parting gift, my love. Any last words?”

A shudder escaped the hero’s treacherous lips as he felt the criminal’s warm breath against his neck. “You’re still lying,” he choked out, grinning like a madman.

“You really keep insisting on being pathetic,” the villain bit out, and it would’ve reached the desired effect if her voice hadn’t trembled ever so slightly. “You think this is a game?” she hissed, pressing the knife just a little deeper into the crime-fighter’s skin, letting a thin line of crimson snake down his neck, like ink meant to mar a perfect painting, serving only to enhance its beauty.

She could desecrate the hero all she wanted, but nothing she did could ever truly ruin him. The foolish words inked into a poster that hung uselessly in the villain’s room, the whole lie about denying the existence of a never-ending night, of eternal darkness couldn’t be closer to the truth right now. Hero was the living proof, existing to torment and mock the villain. And for that, she wished to destroy him so horrifically that he was rendered less than a shadow of the bright star he once was.

Hero had other ideas. He despised himself for managing to notice how the villain’s sadistic grin hadn’t gone all the way up to her eyes, how even when she was threatening to lay waste to him trapping him in her hold, she’d avoided the bruise near his ribs. He should’ve been seeing red, trying to rip his damningly beautiful nemesis limb from limb. But as his mother had once told him, the mind’s master is desire, you see what you wish to believe. It made him feel all the more pitiable.

“You don’t want to kill me,” the hero said, breaking out of her hold, trying and failing horribly to stop the tears from streaming down his face, to stop his voice from breaking.

“Oh believe me, I do. More than anything. But I’ll make it quick because you cried so pretty for me.” The irony was impossibly cruel as tear tracks marred the villain’s face, as her lip quivered and her breathing hitched. She trained her gun on the hero’s face, expression stone-hard, death grip on her weapon.

Hero just smiled at her, the blood now staining the collar of his white shirt a deep maroon.

“DON’T YOU GET IT?” she screamed, pushing the hero till he was flush against the wall. He could escape very easily, could pry the gun out of her fingers and exact his revenge. But he didn’t.

He didn’t.

“It was a lie at first. I was manipulating you. I tried to kill you so many times. Poison in your coffee. When you were sick, I was going to break that thermometer in your mouth, let the mercury go down your throat. That date at the restaurant, when you came to pick me up with that stupid way you did your tie. I was going to choke you with it when I offered to fix it for you. But I never did. I convinced myself I was playing the long game, stringing you along, so that your pain reached its maximum when I killed you. So that you’d suffer the worst torture imaginable!”

“But?” he asked, searching for something she didn’t know in her eyes.

“I couldn’t take it. Couldn’t take the way you looked at me, how you went out of your way to make me happy. I lived my whole life believing love was a lie. Building up my walls. Not letting the scars of my past heartbreak define me! And you think you can just waltz in here and prove it was all smoke and mirrors?” she seethed, gritting her teeth.

He never answered, just leaned forward, pressing his lips to her forehead in a gentle kiss, pulling away and staring deep into her eyes, brilliant emerald green seeing through her soul.

“You bastard!” Her grip tightened on the trigger, but her gaze softened, and she threw the gun down, throwing herself against his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.

“I don’t want to ruin you.”

“You don’t even know the full extent of the things I’ve done. Of the choices I had to make. The lesser of two evils is still an evil.”

“The agency?”

He pulled away and tilted her chin up, “Being a puppet is exhausting. I’m only a hero because they called me that. I’m a man, not an angel, but I have enough good left in me to realise some of my work was no more than crimes committed in the name of their twisted idea of the ‘greater good’. So yeah, I guess I won’t stop saving people, but before that, I have a few loose ends to tie. So what do you say?” He wrapped her arms around his neck and slung his around her waist.

“Let’s get those bastards.” She pressed a passionate kiss to his jawline and walked out with her hand intertwined in his.

It only took a month, and the agency had collapsed.

Fire brings destruction, each one trailing after the other like crazed lovers, hell-bent on setting the world ablaze if only just to feel the intensity of each other. But hidden in the wreckage like a diamond in the rough, underneath the soot and debris, is a chance for a new beginning, something akin to how a phoenix rises from the ashes, reborn brighter than before fueled by the flames that set a lover’s heart on fire.

✨️Le Taglist: @larinzz @syberianjade @lateuplight @altu-interactions @enbious-prince @astr0-mj @thelazywitchphotographer @addictedsandwhichaki @justalittlecorrupted @quaggasus @theangstyclown @vernilliom @mothmancommitsarson @starssabove @kurai-hono-blog @talkingsperm @catsarecool00 @muffinrebel44 @sunnynwanda @annablogsposts @cardboardarsonist @itsmyworld23 @onlywhump @shr3ya @crotchgoblin69 @wtfevenisausername

Wanna be on the taglist? This'll take you there!

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whump-in-the-closet · 10 months

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At Gunpoint

yes, yes i know i have two active series i need to work on, but i got distracted by a couple of my other ocs and voila

~~~

cw: this is really very violent so heed that, guns, knives, drugging, used as bait, death threats, character death, badly written fight scene, implied torture and captivity, female whumpee, female whumper, so many broken bones…yeah let me know if i missed anything

Mal wandered down the empty stone walks of Jett’s abandoned fortress and found the emptiness odd.

But she didn’t realise how wrong the silence was until it was too late.

Granted, her thoughts were distracted. Nyx had been gone for a week and there had been no message.

But Nyx was more than capable of taking care of herself. She was fine…Nyx was fine.

Nyx was fine.

Mal tried to shug the growing discomfort away. Momentarily distracted by a locked door at the top floor, she kicked it down out of violent necessity.

The room was not empty.

It took only a second for Mal to recognise Jett and Akari, and to realise that the only exit was the way she had come.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck–

Mal froze, eyes locked on the bent figure in the back of the room. Everything else bled away, leaving Mal standing in an ocean of red.

The figure knelt because she couldn’t stand, chains looped around her wrists and attached to rings on the floor. Mal caught a glimpse of black where the whites of the eyes should be as Nyx’s head rolled forward.

Gagged and drugged out of her mind—Nyx. Far from fine.

Jett started talking– bragging– lip curling in triumph. She spun a revolver lazily.

Mal didn’t care. She took a shaky step forward. Couldn’t look away from the bruises on Nyx’s bare arms.

Purple and blue and shadowed.

Arching half-healed red lines on her shoulders and neck–

Jett’s girlfriend wound a hand in Nyx’s dark hair, wrenching Nyx’s head back at a painful angle. Flashing steel was drawn in a clear threat.

“Stop where you are,” Jett repeated, no longer spinning the gun.

Mal almost lunged forward. A void opened up inside her.

Screaming.

Screaming until everything was raw and red and aching.

She managed to stop, but all she could see was the knife at Nyx’s throat.

Looking at Nyx, drugged and hollow, shirt ripped to reveal spider-webbed pale skin, felt like a twisting blade in Mal’s lungs.

Jett crossed the ground between them, eyeing the knife at Mal’s hip. She yanked it out, tossing it to the ground.

Mal didn’t protest.

Jett took Mal’s silence for defiance. With a violent twist of her wrist, she brought the handle of her gun over the girl’s head. “On your knees.”

Mal inhaled sharply, air burning her lungs with all the force of the desert sun. A shuddering sob in her throat, she dropped to her knees.

Jett stood over her and the gun didn’t waver. She pressed a cold circle to Mal’s already throbbing temple. “Don’t move.”

Don’t move.

Outnumbered.

Outmatched.

Death felt like a cold wind on the back of Mal’s neck.

Akari spoke up. “Not so brave now, are you? What do you think, m’lady? Do you think her brave?”

Jett traced a line down Mal’s face with the muzzle of her gun.

Mal’s breathing picked up. Faster and faster and faster–

Jett jabbed the muzzle into Mal’s throat, forcing her to look up.

Faster and faster and faster–

Jett grinned. “No, not particularly brave.”

Mal exhaled softly, blowing a sweat-matted curl out of her eyes. “Fuck off.”

Faster than Mal’s breathing came the flash of Jett’s gun.

Another sharp hiss, but Mal fell silent, vivid red dripping down from her temple. Breathing heavily, she glared at the concrete. She did not miss the brown-red stains of dried blood that spotted the floor.

“Do you know what we’re going to do to you?” Akari’s voice was low, her scar catching in the flame-lights, skin still shiny. The hand holding the knife to Nyx’s throat was steady, the weird light only enhancing the new lines of exhaustion on Nyx’s face. “We’re going to kill you. Here. Now.”

Mal looked up at this. Jett smiled, confirming Akari’s threat.

Akari’s voice dragged on, shinier than her scar. “We’re going to kill you the way we kill a rabid dog. We thought about torturing you ‘til you died begging, as a sort of dramatic irony bit.”

Mal licked the blood off her lip.

“We thought about letting you live. Making an example out of you. But you’re too unstable for even that. You’re sick–”

Mal spat out the blood. It had been waiting, crimson and iron and bitter, on her tongue. It landed on Jett’s glossy-black boot.

The satisfaction was only momentary. Worth it. That same boot lodged itself in Mal’s stomach.

Mal doubled over, coughing. More crimson in her mouth. An ocean of blood tearing her lungs to shreds.

“Akari, enough,” said Jett. “We’re done here.” When she shoved the muzzle of the gun to Mal’s temple, it was no threat.

Choking on the crimson-bile, Mal cried out. White dots bloomed in the corners of her eyes. “Wait!”

“Any dying words?” Jett was running out of patience.

“Nyx?” Mal’s voice dropped to a whisper. “Nyx.” Voice even softer. “What will you do with her?”

“She’s my sister, I’m not going to kill her.”

Akari laughed. “We have to make an example out of someone.”

“Akari!” snapped Jett.

Too late. Mal froze, every muscle coiling like a wind-up toy inside her. Tightening, and tightening, and tightening.

“Fuck,” whispered Jett.

Tightening and tightening and tightening. Every nerve set alight with lightning-burning that arched through her entire system.

Two things happened in a span of seconds.

Mal lunged for the gun and Jett fired it. The bullet missed wildly and that's when, according to Jett, it all went to shit.

Akari scrambled off of Nyx, a knife in each hand.

But Mal had knocked the gun out of Jett’s hand and shoved Jett back into the wall. Mal’s fist connected with Jett’s ribcage in the most satisfying of crunches. Before Jett could double over, she grabbed Jett’s hair and– crack– the back of Jett’s head met the concrete wall.

Jett slumped against the wall.

Then Akari’s blade found Mal. The short steel slammed into the small of her back– scraping against bone–

White pounded in her vision, ripping through her. It twisted and screamed through every nerve in her body– fading to gold.

Red–

The colours were lodged behind her eyes, exploding into vicious spirals. Mal whirled, her blow met with steel.

A slash on the back of her hand for her troubles.

Deep, deep red pooling out of the cut. Her hand was slippery with it.

Jett was recovering and Akari was stabbing again.

Mal barely dodged the thin blade. But Akari had put too much force behind the blow, and when Mal swayed to the side, Akari was left exposed for a second too long.

Mal elbowed Akari in the face. Another satisfying crack as something broke. Probably the woman’s nose. Mal wrenched the weapon out of Akari’s hand, and with a movement like diving into choppy water, Mal shoved it into Akari’s throat.

Akari crumpled, eyes wide, grabbing for the knife. Frantic crimson spurted over the front of her shirt and soon soaked her hands.

Mal didn’t stay to watch.

Jett hadn’t quite recovered. She was on her hands and knees—

Mal kicked Jett’s legs out from under her. Jett wheezed, the sound distinctly wrong.

And Mal laughed, the sound rattling in her throat and wiped the blood off her face. “Sick?” She kicked Jett in the mouth. Blood on her boots. Blood on the ground. “Fuck that–”

Oh, she was so glad she’d worn steel-toed boots today. She kicked Jett again. And again. And again.

“–Fuck you.”

Every blow brought a wince of pain, and every blow brought greater and greater satisfaction.

She lightly touched the hilt of the blade still buried in her back. Her fingers were drenched with scarlet when she pulled her hand away. That was going to be a problem.

Mal wiped her bloody hand off on Jett’s shirt, leaving the red to smear. With a curl of disgust, she started digging through Jett’s pockets. When she finally found the key to Nyx’s chains, she kicked Jett one last time.

Jett’s face was now unrecognisable.

Mal turned back to Nyx. Crouching down should not have been as difficult as it was. She had to breathe through her teeth, raspy and hoarse, to keep from screaming. Her fingers kept slipping on the key and it took three tries to unlock the chains on Nyx’s wrists.

With the support removed, Nyx slumped forward.

Mal caught her, slowly lowering herself and Nyx to the bloody floor. “Nyx?” she whispered and even the whisper seemed blood-stained.

Nyx didn’t answer, head rolling back against Mal’s shoulder.

Black in her eyes where the whites should be.

Deep shadowed bruises.

Mal bit back a shuddering sob. “I’m sorry.” Then again, and again and again. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, Nyx, I’m sorry–”

She curled over the limp body, her forehead pressed against Nyx’s.

I’m sorry.

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boredbunei · 23 hours

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bend me over and tease me with your weapon, telling me how much i deserve to be tied down and used as a fuck toy

#kidnap fantasy #r4p3b4it #breeding k1nk #cnc somno #send me r@pe threats #askabunei #cnc stalking #knife k!nk #gun play

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jambiscuits27 · 2 years

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I AM HOLLERING AT THESE PICS I TOOK WHILE MESSING AROUND IN GMOD 😭😭😭

#ena #ena joel g #gmod #tw gun image #tw gun threat #tw gun #tw knife #These pics have different povs but the same energy 💀

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lumicow · 2 days

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Tell us the sluttiest thing you’ve ever done 😈

Hmmmm there’s so many !! There was the time I drove around in nothing but an over size coat, nipple clamps and a silent vibrator! There’s also the time back when I was a hardcore little catholic girl, I purposely wore slutty clothes to the mass simply because I knew exactly what the church pastor thought of my cute little teen body. Or even!! The time I walked around in my favorite little slut fit and then masturbated with a dildo in a park bathroom 💕-

Ah uh, anyways, ugh so many things I honestly couldn’t even pick the sluttiest thing I’ve done-

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painsandconfusion · 1 year

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Could you do a prompt list for whumpy things that happen in crowds or dances or something? Places with a lot of people.

Only if you want!

Thank you!!

Public Whump

Hidden injuries and subtle threats, beloved. [Prompts Masterpost]

Shock collar hidden under a turtleneck or a scarf.

Whumper pressing a knife to Whumpee’s side under their coat.

“Shhhhh…someone could hear those little whimpers.”

Whumpee drinking way too much to try to cover up their nerves.

Whumper’s grip a bit too tight on Whumpee’s arm as they guide them through the crowd.

“Careful. If you attract attention, someone has to die. You don’t want that on your conscience, do you?”

Whumpee feeling a needle stab into their thigh and retract again just as fast, spinning around in a circle, desperately staring at people around them in the subway - completely unable to tell who it was that just drugged them.

“Please- I c-I ca-ant go back-”

Whumper’s protective arm around Whumpee’s shoulders as Whumpee’s head leans against the cool bus window. Whumper tugging them closer to lean on their shoulder instead.

“You know the drill. Easy way or hard way?”

Whumpee forced not to limp on a sprained or broken ankle.

Whumpee quickly and subtly brushing away a tear that’s slipped down their cheek, shaky smile covering the slipup barely.

Desperately trying to keep their hands from shaking. There will be hell to pay if Whumper sees them showing signs of fear right now.

“Don’t bother. You’d be dead on the ground before you got that far.”

Whumper's hand on Whumpee's thigh under the table. Possessive and controlling. Squeezing or pinching when Whumpee ventures a little too close to saying something wrong.

Whumpee’s phone burning in their pocket; begging to be used. Whumpee doesn’t dare try it.

“You’re going to walk quietly next to me to the parking lot, and you’re going to get in the car. You’re going to be quiet and good for me - right?”

Whumper tapping a needle lightly against Whumpee’s neck when they’re being too loud - a silent threat.

“Don’t struggle. It’s pathetic.”

[Prompts Masterpost]

(tags: @prisonerwhump @whumpawink @mabledonut @happy-little-sadist @paleassprince @distinctlywhumpthing @wibbly-wobbly-whump @batfacedliar-yetagain @suspicious-whumping-egg @wormwriting @cat-anony @villainsvictim @throwawaywhumper @wild-selenite-caffine @whumpasaurus101 @thecitythatdoesntsleep @whumpworld @pinkieglitterheart @whumpberry-cookie @rainbows-and-whumperflies @a-galactic-fox @shywhumpauthor @cyberneticwhump @bumpwhump @hold-back-on-the-comfort @veyroswin @whumping-seven-days-a-week @whumpingisfun @suffering-and-misery @definitely-not-a-seagull-i-swear @yetanotheraltwhumpblog)

As always, lmk if you want to be added or removed from any tag lists!

#hidden injury #public whump #creepy/intimate whumper #gun #knife #broken bones #threats #blackmail #prompt list #whump tropes

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