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sunnynwanda · 2 months

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The Game

Part 2

Warning: manipulation, electricity used for restraining (I have no idea how to phrase this).

"Good mooorning," Hero sings, drawing out their vowels in a tone way too chirping for such an early hour. Villain wonders if they are the psychopath after all.

“What?" Villain blearily turns around, midway through taking a sip of their coffee. They don't have the energy to snarl, opting for a dismissive wave of a hand as they turn back around, ignoring Hero's presence to enjoy their drink. "It could have been good if I didn't have the displeasure if looking at you before I've had my morning coffee."

Hero huffs, unamused at the lack of reaction to their theatrics. But before they can speak again, Villain turns towards them again. "How did you find this place?"

Hero flashes a devilish smile, lifting their hand to show off the handcuffs they are holding. "You’re under arrest." They muse, enjoying this a little too much for Villain's liking.

"Like hell I am," they retort, placing their cup down with a clink. They aren't armed, but that doesn't mean they will go down without a fight.

"Don't make me force you, darling," Hero's voice is much closer now. Villain can feel their breath on the back of their neck, tickling them with a sinister promise.

"You think you can?" They question, standing up to face Hero at a common level. "Let's put that to the test, shall we?"

Hero's smirk is nothing short of sadistic. Oh, how the want to wipe it off Hero's lips. One way or another. But it's too early for that yet.

After a short and rather uneventful tussle and one broken cup - Villain makes sure to curse at Hero for that, since it's their favourite - the cuff clinks around their wrist, the other secured around Hero's to keep them under control. Villain almost breaks character at that statement but catches themself before Hero can notice both of them are exactly where Villain wants them to be.

They are barely restaining the urge to laugh out loud when Hero brings them to their Headquarters, leading them down the stairs towards what Villain assumes are the cells. Their eyes sparkle with anticipation when they pass the double doors, their lips parting in awe at the sight of the equipement they craved held behind tempered glass and layers of laser beams.

Everything was going according to plan. It's almost as if getting an unstable scientist near the most guarded lab in the city was Hero's intention as well. They chuckle, amused at how perfectly Hero played their part in their game, albeit unknowing.

Villain throws their head back, laughing out loud as they are tugged further down the corridor. The cell door creaks open and they are dragged in. Hero takes the cuff off their own wrist and chains Villain's wrists together through the bars of their cage before exiting.

Only when the door shuts with a loud bang does Villain stop cackling. They glance at Hero's smug smile, shaking their head. Their voice is barely a whisper when they speak, leaning in as if to share a secret. "You think you won?"

"I'm pretty sure it's obvious," Hero nods at their restrained hands clasped around the bars and flicks a switch, sending a current through the bars. Villain hisses at the sensation, letting go as their fingers spasm from the shock.

They watch Hero walk away, allowing them to revel in the victory they assumed they had. Once Hero is out of earshot, Villain's face breaks into the widest of grins. Their hands close around the bars, electricity running through them in waves of pain and pleasure.

Oh, this is going to be fun.

Part 2

A/N: based on this amazing request by @thiefofthecrowns. Thank you! I had a lot of fun writing this. I know it's on the shorter side but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless ♡

Masterlist

Taglist: @marvellousdaisy @alltimelowing @lateuplight @surplus-of-sarcasm @betwist @excusemeasibangmyheadonawall @enemies-to-idiots-to-lovers @miaowmelodie @thatonerandomauthor @hhabaddon @burningoutlikeicarus @daemonvatis @weepingcowboywolfbat @thelazywitchphotographer @kaiwewi @soul-of-a-local-bard @pigeonwhumps @aflyingsheepnamedrose @thatneptune @ohwellthatslifesstuff @worldsfromhoney @thiefofthecrowns @crow-with-a-typewriter @qualityrabbitsoup @stargeode @villain-life @villainsblood @whumpific @glassthedumbass @silviathebard @misskowe @ayeshaturnedtoashes4444

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straight-to-the-pain · 4 months

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Just so you know I am always and forever a defender of women getting to hurt and be hurt in fiction

#i don’t love the term lady whump tbh and wanted the post to be more broad than just whump #because let’s be real I love it in media that isn’t trying to be whump just the same #I’m lucky that ive curated my dash well enough to not see the hate #but I just want to give a little something to my fellow women appreciators you know #s talks #whump meta

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swinging-stars-from-satellites · 5 months

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"I want to see him bruised and bloody" is out. I want to hear him slurring.

#actually I'm gonna free this one from the drafts.#Lu rambles #whump #sorry I've been writing whump fic about extremely niche fictional characters lately god forbid women do anything

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befuddled-calico-whump · 6 months

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Riot Kings, page 4E

#just gonna leave him terrified and shaking for a few hours :) completely incapable of relaxing :)#this is the last page!#there might be a part two but this is all for now #riotkings #whump comic #whump art #psychological whump #blindfolded #shaking #fear #both ladies are so pretty i almost want them to be a full women's mercenary team #amazon brigade #melchiorgoesbrr

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gritpyre · 11 months

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Whump Girl Summer Day 1 - Begging

AND SO it begins Alma’s terrible, horrible, no good, very bad week

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musashi · 5 months

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"rare" mean post but god i fucking hate being a lesbian in the whump/whump adjacent community so so much. i hate you scenario posts that use he/him pronouns throughout for some fucking reason. i hate you "lady whump" being a term that needs to exist. i hate you 20-something year olds online saying "male gaze" constantly without ever once even googling what that phrase means. i hate you "internalized misogyny" as an excuse for never even considering stories about women. i hate you following a bunch of people with lesbian flag icons thinking i will finally get posts tailored to me only to find that even the other lesbians only post about men. i hate you "men are supposed to be covered in their own blood and women are supposed to be covered in someone elses teehee <3"

it's so fucking stupid that we have somehow gotten to a point where the general unspoken consensus is "oh well we can't write about female pain because it's misogynistic <3" as if making women fully rendered characters who think and breathe and feel and ache is somehow a sin. women are not allowed to be vulnerable. women are not allowed to be in pain. women are not allowed to be disheveled and bloodstained and ugly and injured and sick and anything less than perfect. if you write about female pain you are somehow a misogynist who gets some voyeuristic kick from seeing women hurt.

like no, dipshit, i'm a lesbian and you're a fucking idiot. god.

#wordy wendy #whump #whumpblr #sorry i was looking at that post i reblogged into my franziska getting shot tag fghfhfd #thinking about how much i love that scene. i love her bleeding out. i love her scared and furious and indisposed.#i love her in the hospital. i love her breaking out of the hospital.#i love her in the anime at trial in a sling. i love her breathing heavy because she fucking ran inside in heels.#i love her crying her eyes out on opioids at the airport. i love her broken and desperate and at the end of her rope #i love that shes allowed to be that way. loved. looked after. lain low.#and i hate that its controversial to love that #''women are not allowed to be in pain! this is feminism somehow!''

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little-peril-stories · 2 months

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I have been slowly working my way through Prince of Thieves on ao3, and thought I would come and find your blog after I was done with it. However, I just read chapter 30 (in fact, have stayed up too late so that I could read it when I saw what it was going to be) and I had to come and say THANK YOU for the delicious lady whump. That was my one complaint leading up to this chapter...the lady whump tag is how I found the story to start with, and I wanted Bree to get the same caliber of whump as Will was getting haha! So now I am very happy, and needed to tell you. Very well written story, I look forward to checking out more of your work when I finish it!

Firstly: Thank you so much for making my weekend with this message!! 💕🥰🥹

Secondly: 💕 LADY WHUMP 💕

(Sorry for making you wait so long for the real fun stuff. I'm so, so glad you enjoyed it...and wickedly delighted that you stayed up late to read that chapter.)

Also, to others who see this, @actress4him has SO much delicious lady whump in her repertoire! I can recommend In Irons (how cute is Adelaide??) and Lainey and Isa (just 😭), so go check out her blog if you're on the lady whump train!

Anyway, I hope you enjoy the rest of The Prince of Thieves! I'm actually planning on self-publishing it later this year (and the edited version is just a *smidge* meaner to Bree in that particular chapter, lol 😇😅😈). Its ongoing AU The Queen of Lies has lady whump but of a pretty different variety, I'd say, and the upcoming TPOT sequel, The Court of Rogues...ho boy. Lady whump central.

Thank you, once again! Have an amazing day/weekend/whenever you see this. 🥰

#asks #lps the prince of thieves #lps the queen of lies #lps the court of rogues #thank you so much Jada this made me stupid happy #I love this #I love you #thank you #lady whump #women in whump

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xbuster · 2 months

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It’s literally just a video about a girl getting beat up and the guy repeatedly crushes her head on the floor with his boot. There’s no sound or context. There’s nothing “kino” or “based” to get out of it other than watching this anime girl get turned into a bloody pulp. Kind of scared of guys who are this proud of their ryona fetish ngl.

#i’ve said before there line between horror and eroticism is nonexistent #but people who are this proud of their ryona fetishes scare me #i’ve also historically gotten creeped out by women who are proud of their whump fetishes #like there’s a clear kind of misogyny/misandry on display with these that you don’t get from even the average ryona/whump fetishist

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toyybox · 4 months

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Spiderwebs #22: Vanity

Masterlist

content: implied starvation

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

This was a good sign. Their first excursion had been a success. Jackie was starting to warm up to her. He wasn't happy, but he was getting used to the operation of things, and that was all she needed. He had even buried a body with her, which was an impressive development considering their rocky start. Cooperation and compliance—that was all she asked of him.

“Can I eat that?”

Jackie’s voice brought her back from her thoughts. He was sitting on her sofa, legs curled up, staring at the sandwich on the table like it would run away if he blinked. Such an ordinary, domestic scene. What was Heather doing? What had she done? Why had she kidnapped a man, then killed another? She was sure there was a good reason, but she could remember it in the morning. Right now… food. Right. Giving Jackie food.

“Go ahead. It’s all yours.” She had disposed of her coat, and Jackie had disposed of his gloves. She now sat across from him, on a chair she’d retrieved from the kitchen.

“Thanks!” He took it without hesitation and ate quickly, his body angled away, guarding the precious treasure of a single sandwich. As if she was going to take it from him. It was a bit uncomfortable to watch, especially as he was covered in dried blood.

She stared at nothing at all, as he ate. What other experiments did she have to perform? The paralysis compound had been perfected, at that point. She’d done a few dissections on the jars of organs, and found little worth noting. She still needed to find the source of the immortality—that was something. Something to occupy her.

Jackie had finished eating a long time ago. He was now giving her a curious look, trying to decipher what had captured her gaze. He had such captivating eyes, such a pretty face—not that Heather thought… well… in any case, this was irrelevant.

“You’re filthy,” she said casually.

He sounded genuinely hurt, or at least confused. “Excuse me?”

“You’re covered in blood, I mean.”

“Ah, yeah.” He cleared his throat and grinned again. She could tell he was scared. Startled, for whatever reason. The smile didn’t reach his eyes. “You’ve got a bit of something too. Over there—no, higher—“ He put a finger to the edge of his face.

“Thanks.” Heather wiped her face, though she doubted that would remove the stain. “Are you still hungry?”

“No.”

“Are you sure? People usually eat dinner at this time.”

He shook his head. "I’m fine. I don’t eat much anyway.”

They lapsed into silence. Heather couldn’t think of anything to say. It was the fatigue, she decided. It had been a long day. Small talk came sparse after a murder.

Jackie was the one to break it. “You’re not so bad. I guess.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean—“ He took in a sharp breath. He spoke with a gentle yet adamant air, as if he was attempting to give her advice. “I don’t know. You’re okay.”

“How touching. Didn’t you threaten to kill me once?”

“I’m mercurial, alright? I’m a sensitive soul.” He shrugged. “Besides, you’re one to talk. You have mood swings, like, every day.”

“I don’t—“ She thought about this. “Never mind.”

He began to pick at the edge of the sofa, at the seams of black leather. Fluffy white pillows surrounded him like the petals of a lily. Behind the curtained window, the light slowly drained from the sky. The clock on the shelf carried the seconds past them, tick-tick-ticking faintly in the background. The sound seemed to echo. Her house always felt empty, even in the presence of other people. And it had been so long since she had lived with other people.

She wasn't alone anymore, but she felt no difference. Her home was constantly quiet. A kind of reverential silence, the silence of churches and graveyards, sticking to the walls like mold and hollowing them out. Jackie didn’t have a very active presence there, after all. Four months, and this was the first time he'd seen the living room.

That was not an accident. It was safer to keep him in the basement. It was easier. Still, Heather thought he needed the fresh air. He was starting to get restless, fidgety. He didn’t sleep much. Was that normal? She didn’t know much about people. Just the inner workings. Birds and dogs had to be taken outside their cages sometimes, or so she’d heard. Even rats liked to run around, but Heather’s subjects usually died before that ever became an issue.

And there was the topic of Jackie’s growing weakness. Despite his attempts to hide it, his fragility was obvious to Heather. It did not surprise her in the slightest. To regrow entire limbs, to replace entire organs—well, it would take a toll on anyone’s body. He didn’t eat enough, of course. And God knew what those drugs were doing to him in the long-term.

That wasn’t a bad thing, necessarily. If Jackie could physically overpower her, he could escape. And that wouldn’t do. Along with the usual fear of incarceration came a stronger hunger, a stronger want, something stronger than she was used to. What did she want, exactly? It was hard to say, looking at him, still a sort of stranger regardless of their time together. She didn’t really know Jackie, did she? He was still a subject to be studied. That’s what she wanted, maybe. Answers.

“I think you should take a shower,” she decided. “I’ll show you to the bathroom.”

“Shower?” he echoed. “Just a shower? It’s not an experiment?”

“No. What kind of experiment is that?”

He didn’t answer. “One last thing. Does your bathroom have a lock? I know—“ He held up his hand, as if she was about to protest about what an offense this was. “I know, just… does it lock? From the inside?”

“Yes, it has a lock, and all that.” She gave an exaggerated, exasperated sigh, more out of habit than anything. “I’m not a monster.”

He didn’t seem to understand, but he nodded.

See, she was capable of kindness! There you go. That was her generosity, over and done with. Nothing more needed to be said. She showed him to the bathroom, then left him to sort whatever he needed out.

· • —– ٠ ✤ ٠ —– • ·

He came back about twenty minutes later, in which time Heather was able to scrub most traces of blood from the house, and dispose of the chainsaw, which she had thrown into the river as well. She then waited in the living room again, watching the clock.

When Jackie returned, he looked unsure of himself. Less scared now, more overly polite. He sat back down on the sofa, significantly cleaner, hair still damp and curls heavy, hands clasped together in his lap. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze, but didn’t quite glance away either. Didn’t say anything, didn’t ask about anything. Watched, listened to the clock.

Though Heather shouldn’t have, she found his wary respect a little amusing. She couldn’t quite believe that she was intimidating, that she held any sort of power over other people. Other people always appeared as a paradox, or else as immaterial, indistinct shadows. Trying to catch smoke, trying to control light sparks, trying to capture the brief sounds from the next room. That’s what other people were—always in the other room, something she wanted to possess but could never grasp. But here was Jackie, in the same place and time as her, maybe not totally under her control but at least a little put-off by her presence.

“You have a nice bathroom,” he offered.

He was just trying to make small talk, she figured. “What do you mean, nice?”

“The soap looked expensive.”

She’d seen him nearly every day for the past four months, at least once a week, but this was the first time that she really felt curious about him. Thought of him, not in the context of a drug or dissection, but as his own person. How many layers to that nesting doll? People were all so complicated...

“How are you?” she asked instead.

“Tired.” That was it, a monotone answer. “Heather, can I go outside again? Tomorrow?”

“I don’t know about tomorrow.”

“But eventually?” He spoke earnestly, and now Heather knew this was like the small talk—he wanted, not the truth, but just something. Something to hope for, something to keep. “Soon?”

She nodded.

Heather never thought about her other subjects like this. The dog bones went with the garbage, and that was the end of them, the moment where they stopped to exist in any meaningful way. That was necessary. A necessary separation, a mental blockade. If you thought too much about anything, if you let your logic run its complete course, then you’d fall into an inertia that would never lift. Maybe all this contemplation was bad for her, like candy was bad for your teeth. But it was so sweet, wasn’t it? The thought of knowing someone so deeply.

“Well, then.” A little curiosity was fine, but she needed to know when to quit. Heather stood. “It’s late. We should go to sleep.”

He stood also, after a reluctant pause. “Okay.”

She thought of pinning him to the wall and breaking his neck. Holding him and watching him die. Holding him, a living thing, a real person in her home and in her arms. Catharsis for this tension. It came on as a papercut does—there, all of a sudden, welling up red, meaningless and shallow but too sharp to ignore. Ah, it was all his fault. He was making her feel things. She hated him for it. He was too good at it, with that poised little frown, that wide and wary look.

Instead of enacting this, she swallowed, picked the thought off like a scab. “I’ll take you to your room, then.”

He nodded, so unaware of her feelings, so oblivious. That was for the best. Their relationship was purely professional, but she still wanted him to respect her.

It was laughable, she knew. Pointless. What he thought of her didn’t matter in the end. That was vanity, plain and simple. But they could find some common ground, couldn’t they? This could work, this would work, over the months and days, even over the years. They would find something to share. A life, to share. A life and a home, quiet though it was, unnatural though it was. A compromise of sorts.

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Taglist:

@theelvishcowgirl

@lthrboy

@whumpy-wyrms

#whump #whump writing #whumpblr #my writing #Spiderwebs toyybox #lab whump #You can tell that Heather is a really sane and well-adjusted individual #god forbid women have a prey drive </3

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sunnynwanda · 1 year

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Repent

Warnings: betrayal, torture, public punishment, sexual undertones.

Hero was a fool.

And they knew it too.

They were a fool for letting Villain in. They were a fool for allowing Villain to kiss them and a fool for kissing them back. They were dumb enough to trust it was real.

They were a fool for letting Villain rock into their body late at night. They were a fool for kissing every inch of Villain's skin. Even more so - for sneaking into the enemy's lair for that.

They sensed something was off. From the way Villain enjoyed leaving bruises on their chest too much. They felt a chill run along their spine when they racked their nails down Villain's back and heard them whisper - You'll pay for this.

They are paying now. On their knees, with their hands tied over their head. They are paying for every second of weakness.

They still remembered the feeling of Villain's fingertips digging into their thighs. Yet that wasn't what they hated most. It wasn't the pain either. The whip swishes through the air, tearing into their reddened skin. The wound heals in mere seconds, only to be torn open again. And again. And again. Endless.

They squeeze their eyes shut, teeth digging into their lip until they taste blood. They have been paying for their sins every day for over a month. Ever since the dark side took over their city, turning the central square into an execution zone and Hero - into a living example of torture and terror. Not one civilian they'd saved over the years had attempted to show them mercy. Some were enjoying the show, some even participated.

Yet what wrecked them the most was their own being. Their gift of healing turned into a curse rather quickly. As did Villain's voice that kept repenting in their head. Their mind wouldn't stop playing tricks on them as if their tormentors didn't do enough. They would hear apologies for what was done to them. Promises to get them out. To come back for them. To end their suffering - one way or another.

But none of it was real.

None would come true.

None could stop the whip from meeting their back.

Masterlist

#villain x hero #hero and villain #hero x villain #villain and hero #hero/villain #villain/hero #hero #villain #betrayal #torment #creative writing #writing #writeblr #female writers #women writers #writers on tumblr #requests open #sunnynwanda #whump

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