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Wrong place wrong time where Whumpee gets home from vacation early and gets walks into a home invasion or they visit their friend just to walk in on them getting beaten up ....in any case whumpee is at Whumpers mercy now who wanted no witness to their crime

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Home invasion whump anyone?

Whumpee minding their own business at home when boom, Whumper(s) broke into their home and attacks them.

Maybe Whumper is trying to get money or something valuable Whumpee has, so they torture Whumpee until they tell Whumper where the money/valuables are.

Maybe Whumper just broke in to hurt the Whumpee for fun! They go in, beat up and hurt Whumpee, and get out.

Or! They tied up and gagged Whumpee and they search around the house, with Whumpee only watching helplessly as their captor goes through their things.

Maybe Whumper just needs a captive. And after they get what they wanted, they take Whumpee with them.

Alternatively, Caretaker comes in in the middle of the home invasion and gets taken captive as well.

^^To the above, Caretaker had the code to the safe that has their money/valuables, and Whumper tortures Whumpee in front of Caretaker until Caretaker agrees to give up the money/items

(Feel free to add on!)

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Another aesthetic: whumpees revealed to be gagged, picking their heads up so others can see the cloth or tape over their mouths as they sit restrained.

👌👌👌👌

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I have a weird fixation on whumpees flinching and I'm gonna try to walk you all through Why without sounding insane.

I think the main reason is that it is often a learned behavior. It hints at a story, one that the character might not necessarily want to share. But it happens too quick and suddenly to restrain. It's mindless. It's your brain forcing your body to act on impulse and protect yourself from what is, very often, an imaginary danger. Which just means that its Extra terrible for any prideful character that considers themself strong or stoic.

Because it's basically announcing your fear to those around you. Letting them know exactly how to move and what to say to get under your skin. It forces you to be vulnerable way before you're ever prepared for it. It can change the mood dramatically. Cut a conversation short. Make people worry for you.

You can try to act up to draw attention away from your fear, but people have already noticed. They can see that your body is still trembling from leftover adrenaline. You cannot will those reactions away.

With the right people, the worst thing that can possibly happen as a result is just your pride being wounded. Which really isn't so bad all things considered, but God damn does it hurt like a bitch.

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I can’t even explain how much I love cats. If I was rich and capable I’d have so many cats. they are such sweetie peepees. my cats are my little angels

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Prompt 4

"Join me, hero."

"Sorry, what?"

The villain only smiled. "Join me."

The hero blinked, shifting on their seat. They tried to be comfortable, even though it was a bit hard with all the ropes digging into their skin. "Villain, what are you talking about?" They mumbled.

The villain chuckled as they approached. "Your abilities fascinate me, dear. They may seem common at first glance, but you..." they cupped Hero's cheek and raised their head to meet their gaze, "the way you use them, my dear, they leave me speechless."

"Thanks." Hero grumbled and wrenched their head away from Villain's hold.

"They don't appreciate your gift like I do, Hero. They can't even imagine a smidge of the potential you have." Villain said as they circled the tied-up hero, who was doing their very best to stifle a yawn. "If you were to join me, your powers would thrive under my care. You would feel so free, my dear Hero. You would level cities with them, countries..."

"Villain."

The villain ignored them, a manic grin on their face. "You would make the agency fall to your knees. You would make the world fall to its knees-"

"Villain-"

Villain's eye twitched. "You would become a god-"

"Villain!"

"Would you let me finish?!" The criminal snapped their head towards Hero, furious.

"It's four in the morning, Villain!"

"I don't care! Join me."

"No."

"Do you realize what I'm offering here?" The villain scoffed. "I am giving you the opportunity to finally use your gift as it should be used-"

"I want to go to bed, Villain."

"But my offer-"

"I'M TIRED, VILLAIN!"

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Leo, what do you regret most in your life?

from this ask game

"I regret that it took me so long to work on finding my brother and sister," he says. "I try not to hold onto regrets, but I think I could've moved faster, once I knew Luke was... safe. I think I could've tried harder, sooner, and saved everyone a lot of pain."

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might i suggest for a lesser-used whump tool that has excellent potential: the humble catch pole

used it in a whump fic i'm working on to great effect. it has everything. the terror of being choked and yanked around by something unrelenting and tight around their neck. the distance from the person holding it at the end of the pole, preventing them from being able to fight. the convenience of it as a tool of control and moving whumpee from one place to another. how easy it would be to throw whumpee off balance onto the ground.

the sheer dehumanization of it. it's literally a dog catcher's tool. the level of control someone has when they have whumpee by the neck, amplified by not even needing to be near them to do it, and being able to cinch it tighter and tighter whenever they fight. it's humiliating and terrifying and whumpee is left powerless.

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I'm Sorry, I Love You, Pt. 2

Part 1

FANDOM: Original work

CWS: used as bait, parting words regret, kidnapping, ransom note, stabbed, bound and gagged, blood, POC whumpee and caretaker/whumpee (both Elissa and Nocona are Black), female whumpee, female caretaker, male whumper, crying

TAGS: @melpomenelamusa (let me know if you want to be added or removed!)

A/N: And now more of the explorer girls!!! :D Hope y'all like this one! ENJOY!

_____

"Nocona!"

Elissa's call for her best friend echoed throughout the jungle. Night began to fall, worrying the explorer more than anything. She had been searching for Nocona for hours, and she was unable to find her anywhere.

Elissa had since calmed down after her fight with Nocona; she had thought it over when she camped alone, and the guilt she felt grew when she thought more about it. Sure, Nocona confessed at the worst time but… making her leave over a treasure? If anything, she was glad that both her and Nocona were safe. But instead, she drove her best—and only—friend away.

It was one of the codes as an explorer that she broke. Never get greedy over treasure, lest you lose your life or someone you loved.

Love…

She frowned, her thoughts now focusing on Nocona's confession. Nocona? In love with Elissa, of all people? She never thought she had someone fall for her, let alone her best friend. Then all the times they interacted made sense; how Nocona listened to Elissa share information about all the treasures with intent, how she got so close to her that their hands nearly touched…

Her fox ears flattened. Nocona had those feelings towards Elissa for how long? Since they started traveling together?

The guilt grew stronger from there. She had to find Nocona and apologize, and make amends. Nocona was her treasure, after all.

"Nocona!" She called again, heading towards a clearing of the jungle. Thanks to her keen sight, she was able to see past the darkness of the night. She sniffed, searching for Nocona's scent.

She found it, albeit it was faint.

Her ears perked up with a small smile. There she was… but she couldn't find Nocona anywhere. Where was she?

"Nocona?" She called, "It's me, Elissa." She stepped forward a few steps. "I… know you're upset, but I want to apologi—"

Something crackled under her feet, and she startled slightly. She glanced down at the ground, seeing a paper of sorts under her boots.

She raised a brow. What was this? A note from Nocona? But… as she knelt down to pick up the paper, she couldn't sense Nocona's scent on the parchment. Where did it come from?

She smoothed the paper, and read it. It took only a few words for her to widen her eyes in shock.

I have your friend. Want her back? Come and save her!

At the bottom of those words were coordinates that led to a hastily drawn cavern, with a red "X" above it.

Elissa gritted her teeth, her eyes narrowed as her hands crumbled the sides of the note. Nocona was taken captive. By who, she had no idea.

And it was all her fault.

She had to find her and save her, to apologize for what she had said. She refused to let her last words to her friend be scathing.

She ran, following the coordinates to a T. She had to find Nocona, and quickly.

_____

There it was. The cavern. The inside was pitch black, but from what Elissa could understand, it wasn't as deep as the ones she and Nocona usually explored in. This would be an easy rescue mission, as small caverns like these usually never have monsters to fight off. All she had to do was defeat Nocona's captors and get her friend out of there. Simple as that.

With a deep breath, she headed inside.

Her ears listened as she walked deeper in the cavern, hearing dripping water falling off the stalactites' tips and her own footsteps. As she continued forward, it took only several minutes for Elissa to note a faint light pouring deeper in the cavern.

Is this the end of the cave? She wondered to herself, Is Nocona there? Please tell me she's—

She stopped in her tracks when she stepped closer, her eyes widened in horror, and her mouth gaped open.

There, tied to a stalagmite, was Nocona. The girl's head was down, frightening Elissa until she noticed the steady rise and fall of her chest. Aside from being tightly bound with Magic Ropes, there was a trail of blood dripping down from her stomach from what Elissa assumed to be from a sword of sorts.

Her ears flattened, and with surprising speed, rushed towards Nocona, her heart pounding in her chest.

"Oh Gods, Nocona!" She cried.

That caught Nocona's attention, as her head shot up upon hearing Elissa's voice. Seeing the filthy gag in Nocona's mouth and the small bits of blood on her neck made Elissa's blood boil. Whoever did this, they would pay.

Nocona's eyes grew wider as Elissa closed the gap between them, and she began to scream through the gag. She shook her head rapidly, her voice growing from fear to panic. She strained and struggled against her bonds, leaning forward as she yelled out muffled words to her savior.

Once Elissa was close enough, she began to free her friend from the Magic Ropes holding her to the stalagmite. "It's okay," she whispered gently, "I got you. You're safe now."

Nocona was insistent. She shook her head harder, her muffled screams growing louder as she looked over Elissa's shoulder. She writhed against Elissa, as if trying to shake her off from freeing her.

Elissa stopped untying the ropes, noting that Nocona was trying to tell her something urgent. With gentle hands, she untied the cloth and removed the damned gag from Nocona's mouth.

"E-Elissa!" Nocona gasped, "Leave! Now!"

Elissa frowned, her ears flattening as her heart broke in two. Was Nocona still angry with her? She couldn't blame her for saying that.

"Nocona…" Elissa whispered, "I know you're still angry with me, but—"

"No!" Nocona urged, "It's a trap! He's waiting in the—"

Elissa's fox ears picked up on rapid footsteps, then something sharp stabbed her through the abdomen. Her head held up, gasping in shock and pain as her mouth gaped open. A rapier pierced through her, blood splattering on the cavern floor and on Nocona.

Nocona's eyes widened, tears falling down her face. As Elissa fell to the rocky floor when the rapier was removed from her body, she screamed out in horror, "ELISSA!"

Her captor smirked, eyeing the blood that fell down the tip of his rapier. With a sadistic grin, he spoke to Nocona, "I told you. She did come for you, after all."

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Dream Ghost More wavy wiggly lines to sooth the my mind.

Inspired by the SF bay fog that washes over the landscape like waves in the night. I want to grow wings and surf the wind. I want to be a dream ghost. The full hours long video will be DMed on August 5th along with the HD image and PSD file on my Patreon.com/Yuumei

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Whumper throwing whumpee a “happy gotcha day” celebration

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Any thoughts on whumper being creepily intimate with whumpee's lover in front of them?

Sure! Here are some...

Whumper creeping on whumpee's lover

Content: noncon touching and stripping

Lover closing their eyes, pretending not to feel it for whumpee's sake.

"Don't touch him!"

"Please don't, please! Me instead. Me instead!" "Oh don't worry, you're next."

"Strip, Lover," whumper says, already unbuckling their own belt. "I don't want to get too pent up and lose control with whumpee."

Whumper looking into whumpee's eyes as they kiss Lover on the neck.

"Please, I'll take whumpee's place," Lover offers whumper, tears in their eyes. Whumper looks over their body. "Not bad," they say. "As long as whumpee will watch."

Whumper holding Lover's hand for too long. Stroking their arm. Making them uncomfortable.

Whumpee too scared to object because of what whumper does to them behind closed doors

Or, "Hands off her! That's my girlfriend." "Oh, is it?" Whumper says with a silent threat in their eyes. (and now whumpee knows whumper is going to beat them for that once they're alone)

Whumpee finding out whumper did something to lover because of the bruises on the inside of their thighs, the swelling, the flinching.

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Okay but used as bait except... reversed.

As in whumpee uses themself as bait to lure in whumper. Could go many ways, but I in particular am imagining this:

Whumpee had escaped whumper a while ago, and they knew whumper would come looking for them. They successfully made it impossible to find them, completely disappearing. But now whumpee has a taste for revenge... they purposefully make themself visible to lure whumper to them... though this time, the roles aren't going to be quite the same as they were before... (;

Whumper comes in cocky that they finally found whumpee, but all that really happened was them walking right into their trap. (:

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idk there's just something so wonderful about a Whumpee who hears rescue nearby and mere seconds before they can shout, Whumper just stops them. either by gagging them, or threatening to kill whoever comes by, or something else. and the light of hope dims in their eyes.

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Beastly: Chapter 29

Chapter 29 of Beastly, a dark and very whumpy Beauty and the Beast retelling where the captive is as dangerous as the captor… and their cat-and-mouse game is as entertaining for them both as it is deadly.

Masterpost | Read the complete novel on Patreon

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“Come with me,” Valentin urged as he led her through the maze of hallways. “Follow me. Are you still there?” A look over his shoulder, a beckoning gesture behind his back.

And she was there, right where he wanted her. He didn’t touch her; he didn’t need to. She followed close behind him like a dog called to heel. She left her weapon behind and trotted after him defenseless, a lamb to the slaughter. What choice did she have? Just as Valentin had nowhere to go, neither did she. She had already seen where running got her.

A part of her wanted to see where this led. What was the next move in the game? Who would win? Who would bleed?

She tried to steal a look at his paw. To see whether the burn marks remained. He kept it hidden, either by coincidence or by design.

Anger simmered under the surface of her skin, but she didn’t let it out. Not yet. She followed behind him, meek and docile, as if her transformation had been nothing more than a brief fit of temper. But she knew better. The beast inside, her true self, was merely biding its time. Did he know that as well? If not, he soon would.

He led her up the stairs that led to the balcony. Her heartbeat quickened. The memory of falling lived under her skin, and she felt that dizzy weightlessness with every step she took up the endless staircase. Was he going to try again?

She almost hoped he did. Just so she could throw him over first.

When they stepped onto the balcony, Valentin clapped his paws. “Servants!” he called.

There had been no one behind them on the stairs—Beauty was certain of it. Nor was there a place on the balcony itself where they could have been hiding. And yet somehow, three servants appeared out of nowhere, their arms laden with things they somehow knew Valentin would call for. As they flitted and fluttered about, moving too quickly for Beauty to see what they were up to, she tried to catch a glimpse of their faces, to see if Wyn was among them. But they were nothing more than a blur as they worked, and then they were gone, the door closing behind them without so much as a click.

A cloth was spread out before them, dark maroon to replace the stained purple one, laden this time with an array of breakfast foods that could have fed everyone in Beauty’s village with more to spare. Fluffy eggs, the palest yellow, like a newly risen sun. Thick and milky porridge, sprinkled with sugar and dotted with berries, nothing like the gray stuff she had learned to love back home. Small round cakes as thick as her wrist. Her eyes traveled over the spread, as if she could taste it simply by looking at it. Her stomach rumbled despite herself.

She tore her eyes away to stare at Valentin in disbelief. “You want to do this again? Now? After everything? Surely we’ve moved beyond feasts and light conversation.”

“Our conversations have rarely been light,” Valentin reminded her. “And I’m certain you haven’t eaten breakfast yet. You were too busy raiding the kitchen for cutlery.” He chuckled under his breath.

Her hands tightened into fists. The softness of her fingertips disgusted her. She longed for claws to rip that smile from his face.

“Sit,” he urged her, motioning to the pile of pillows the servants had assembled in their lightning-quick work. “You know how this goes by now.”

Beauty didn’t move. “I thought we were going to fight.”

He pulled his lips back in a grin, revealing a flash of fang. “Who says we’re not?” He pointed a claw toward the pillows. “Sit,” he said, with a harder edge that sent a shiver up her spine. “Eat.”

“Why? To give you the pleasure of watching me sit sweetly across from you until you decide it’s time to drop me over the edge again?”

“Because if it’s a fight you want,” he said, “you’ll need to keep your energy up.” Quicker than she could see, his paws shot out and grasped her around the waist. Then she was flying, falling—but not over the railing. Into the pile of pillows. She landed hard on plush softness. A hair popped loose and hung over her eyes. She pushed it back and righted herself, cheeks burning.

She eyed the utensils laid out in front of her. No knives, of course—but the fork had potential. If she was fast enough…

No playing with her prey this time. If she was going to have a chance, she would need to go straight for the killing blow. As he settled on his haunches, she grasped the fork and lunged across the cloth toward him.

But his paw caught her wrist easily. He twisted her arm back and to the side, so she landed half on the pillows and half on the hard stone instead of tumbling into the food. He didn’t let go.

There was no anger in his eyes. She wished there had been. It would have meant he saw her as a threat. But she saw only amused affection in his soft smile.

“I admire your spirit, dear one,” he said. “But spirit is all you have. You’re weak. You’ve spent too long being soft and docile. You should have stuck to that—you were better at it.”

“If I had been good at being soft and docile,” she said, “if I had been good at obeying, the curse would be broken by now.” The admission was a jagged edge, cutting deep; she half-expected her mouth to fill with blood.

“I can wait,” Valentin said. “I was impatient when you arrived. Too impatient, perhaps. I have lived in this skin for so long…” His shoulders rippled, and the movement traveled down his back as if he were trying to shed the ill-fitting flesh. “But now I find I am more willing to take my time.” His gaze traveled from her face down to the fork still clutched uselessly in her fingers.

When he looked back up at her, she met his eyes. “I thought you said you were tired of this distraction.”

“You had the right of it,” he said. “If I had truly meant it, I would have snapped your neck and been done with it.”

“If the curse would have let you.”

“We’ll find out soon enough, I imagine, what the curse will allow.” He plucked the fork from her protesting grip. She broke their gaze, her eyes locking on the sharp tines.

He drove the fork down and speared a slice of melon. He pressed it to her lips and held it there until the juice dripped down her chin. “Eat,” he said again. His voice was soft, but she heard the threat there.

Her stomach growled again. He gave a soft laugh—he had heard it. Giving that round of the game up for lost, she took a bite of sweet melon, and another, until her tongue caressed the sharp metal tines and licked them clean. She thought about bloody claws.

“There you go,” he said. “Isn’t it nice to be taken care of? To have someone treasure you enough to provide for your every need? I could have taken care of you so well, if you had only obeyed.”

She gave the tines one last lick. “And you?” she asked. “Is that really what you wanted?”

Valentin let out a long, growling sigh. “A difficult choice,” he said. “An impossible one, perhaps. An end to the curse… or this delicious game?”

His gaze grew soft as he talked, and he seemed to look through her. Imagining an end to the curse, perhaps. Or imagining the next move in the game.

Her hand shot out. He startled at the movement—but before he had fully roused himself from his daydreams, she grabbed the fork from his paw and took possession of it once again.

He looked at the fork, then at her. “Don’t try again,” he warned. “You aren’t fast enough. Or clever enough.”

She trapped a slice of melon on the tines, and watched the juices bubbled up around the holes she had made. “I’m only returning the favor,” she said sweetly. She held the melon slice up to his muzzle and let the juices wet his fur.

He threw his head back in a delighted rumble of laughter. “The curse was right to save you, dear one,” he said. “I cannot remember the last time I’ve had such fun.”

He swallowed the slice of melon in one bite.

She didn’t pull the fork back. Instead, she thrust it forward as hard as she could. Until her hand disappeared into his mouth, the sharp fangs scraping her fingers. Until the sharp metal pierced the back of his throat and he gave a startled gurgle.

An instant before he snapped his mouth shut, she pulled her hand free.

“It won’t be so fun for you when I win, I think,” she said as she settled back onto the pillows.

He answered with a wet growl. He pulled the fork free. It was slick with blood.

“You wish to take this game further, then?” His gurgling voice grew more distinct as his wounds healed with inhuman speed. He spat a mouthful of blood off to the side. “Even after I’ve already shown you the depth of your disadvantage?”

He held up the bloody fork.

“Very well,” he said. “But don’t say you weren’t warned.”

He drove the fork downward—and this time, it was no bite of food he speared. The tines drove deep into the meat of her thigh.

She let out a howl loud enough to rival any wolf. Her awareness narrowed to the three tiny points where the tines had pierced her flesh. It burned like fire, burned like lightning. Burned like a belly full of swallowed-down rage.

She looked up. Met his eyes. And bared her teeth in a feral smile.

She held his gaze as she yanked the fork free. But when she pressed her hand to the wound, she looked down and watched, fascinated, as blood leaked out around her fingers. It was so bright. All the colors in the world were so bright, now that she finally knew herself again.

“I look forward to your next move,” Valentin said as he stood and walked away, leaving her with a bleeding wound and a dozen platters of untouched food.

She took a berry between bloody fingers and popped it into her mouth. “I accept your challenge,” she said to the closed door.

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What about a used as bait trope where the would-be rescuer is fully aware it's a trap and walks into it anyway? Maybe they hope they can fight their way out or escape later, maybe they hope to trade whumpee's freedom for theirs if they agree to surrender themselves quietly, maybe they just can't bear the thought of whumpee suffering under whumper and they have to try. Either way, they walk into the trap fully aware that it's a trap and let it spring around them.

YES THAT'S ONE OF MY FAVORITE THINGS TOO!!!

Maybe Whumper sent a video/picture of Whumpee being hurt and tortured, and Caretaker couldn't just leave Whumpee in the clutches of Whumper; Whumper would kill Whumpee if Caretaker doesn't come

As you mentioned, maybe Caretaker figures they can fight through it or escape, and they confidently headed to the place Whumpee is being held captive in. Bonus if they ended up getting caught anyway despite all they're planning!

Maybe Caretaker was told to go alone, but they had a plan; they come to save Whumpee but their team is hiding in sight, waiting their chance to strike!

Or maybe Caretaker tells the team to stay, and the team comes anyway, thus either things go well or it ruins Caretaker's plans.

Perhaps when they find Whumpee, bound and gagged and hurt, any and all planning Caretaker had goes out the window when they see Whumpee in distress, and they rushed in, forgetting THAT moment that it was a trap.

"Caretaker, get out of here, it's a trap!" "I know."

Maybe Caretaker and Whumpee got into an argument prior to the kidnapping, and upon learning of Whumpee's capture, Caretaker was determined to save them, even if it's a trap. They don't want their last words to be something scathing to Whumpee, and THEN they never show up; that would be heartless!

LOVE used as bait scenarios where the rescuer knows it's a trap. It adds to how strong the friendship/romance/family/etc the Whumpee and Caretaker has!

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guns

a gun digging into their back when they’re caught somewhere they shouldn’t be,

pistol-whipping,

using a gun to tilt their head, brush hair out of their face or pull the hem of their shirt up,

pulling a gun on them when words don’t do the trick,

the outline of a gun on their clothing,

the subtle flash of a gun under a coat/jacket when they sit down and they just want to talk,

shoving the gun’s muzzle against their lips to shut them up,

the steady pressure of the muzzle on their skin as a reminder not to say or do anything stupid,

a gun just lying on the table as a silent warning.