#Lady Whump

[whumpyourdamnpears]

Fruit of the Wicked: Chapter Nine

Content Warning: lady whump, male whumper/female whumpee, POC whump (whumpee is a Black woman), age gap whump (whumper is an older man), religious whump (Christianity), captivity whump

A big thank you to Marz and Gen for beta reading this chapter!

Word Count: 706 Previous Next

The woman in Sarah’s home didn’t know she was watching her.

She tried to be subtle about it, hoping the woman wouldn’t see how often she watched her through the paned glass doors to her daddy’s study. She knew she wouldn’t take too kindly to being watched, if her previous reactions had been any indication.

Sarah knew when to stop. You stop looking before they notice you’ve been looking for too long. Especially with the woman in Sarah’s home. By the time she noticed you were looking, it had definitely been too long. And she’d let you know it, too.

The woman in Sarah’s home was scary when she was angry.

Sarah was grateful for the sound dampening the wooden walls provided. She couldn’t stand to hear the woman’s screams, whether they were angry or scared or because of Daddy. Sarah didn’t ask Daddy what he did once he entered that room. That wasn’t for her to know.

It was for the best that she didn’t know.

It was early morning now. The woman was still sleeping, and Daddy wasn’t awake yet, either. It was one of the only times Sarah could get away with watching the woman without her making a fuss about it, or Daddy gently scolding her for not minding her own. Sarah did her best to put the plates out quietly as she watched the woman’s curled up form on the other side of the doors. She didn’t have a blanket. Daddy said she hadn’t earned one yet.

She was pretty, Sarah couldn’t help but think to herself. She couldn’t make out much of her in the early light outside of the shroud of dark curls circling her head. The parts of her face that peeked out of her hair while she slept were softer than they usually were. Kinder. She wasn’t nearly as scary when she looked like that.

She made a mental note of all the features she’d been able to make out over the course of these past few days when the woman wasn’t looking. Her upturned nose, unscrunched. Her dark eyebrows, unfurrowed. The way the woman’s brown skin looked golden in the patches of sunlight when the sun would rise and set. Sarah liked the woman when she was like that. Not when she was on guard, scrunched up with her arms crossed over her body like a vice grip, pacing around the study talking to herself, and to them. She didn’t say very nice things when she talked to them, though. Daddy told Sarah she should try to tune the woman out when possible. Act like she wasn’t even there.

But how could she do that? The woman’s arrival had changed so much already. Daddy was home more often now, which was nice, but they hardly spent much time together. Most of his attention went to the woman, what his next step with her was, caring for her, etcetera. He’d even begun discussing what would happen when he let her roam the house, the precautions they’d have to put in place so she couldn’t hurt herself, or them. That’s what really scared Sarah about her. She’d already tried hurting Daddy, and God forbid she got her hands on something sharp.

This couldn’t end like last time. Sarah wouldn’t be able to take it.

The woman began to stir in her sleep, turning onto her other side. Sarah looked down at the plate she was still holding and gently placed it onto the table. She should really get started on breakfast, before Daddy woke up, too. She waited for the day he’d tell her she should make a third plate for the woman in the other room. She’d gone so long without a meal.

Before long, the woman’s hand had come up to scrub at her face and pull the curls stuck to her cheeks away. Sarah could very faintly hear her groan through the doors. She hurried into the kitchen before the woman could notice her standing there. She didn’t want to hear what the woman had to say once she noticed she was the only one awake.

Daddy will be up soon, Sarah told herself as she ran to the sink. He’ll take care of it.

Taglist: @flowersarefreetherapy, @generic-whumperz, @heartinthehospital, @deluxewhump, @another-whump-sideblog, @pigeonwhumps, @lektricwhump, @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees, @sowhumpshaped, @vivulapom, @eatyourdamnpears

[a-crumb-of-whump]

Liking minor whump does not make you a bad person. Liking lady whump does not make you a bad person. Enjoying whump with POC does not make you a bad person. Enjoying pedophilic/incestuous whump does not make you a bad person. Liking NSFWhump does not make you a bad person.

Just because you enjoy these things in fictional settings, does not mean you condone them in real life. They are no better or worse than anything else we as whumpers create.

[slashthrashandcrash]

that's how that movie went right

[sickfictropes]

i think the biggest treat in the world is slow-burn whump. watching as things go from bad to worse slowly. at every moment she thinks that she couldn't possibly feel worse, but you know that she will. she has to keep pushing because the situation is life or death. it makes that inevitable crash at the end so much more satisfying because we just watched her fight for her life, forcing herself to be conscious and functioning out of pure determination. and then as soon as she's gotten to safety, her team are shocked and horrified by the state she's in and when she collapses, it turns to full-fledged panic >:)

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

i know the whump community hates women characters or whatever but the lesbian in me is dying for bloody femininity please

let them have thicc thighs and bazoinkas and wear dresses with the hem ripped to shreds so they can run faster. have them sprint in heels. have them use their stilettos as weapons when they jam it into a person's eye. girls kissing girls. beautifully manicured nails chipped and broken away or idly tracing the length of a blade. fishnets and stockings with runs gouged in them. low cut blouses that leave their collarbones exposed to be traced with the tip of a weapon. tight dresses that hug every curve to distract wandering eyes while they spike a drink. girls kissing girls. long silky hair to be wrapped around a hand and pulled. messy curls. a sultry villainess or a vixen in distress. smeared lipstick and mascara running down their cheeks. jewelry ripped from their necks and earrings torn from their lobes. clawing their way out of the carnage to emerge victorious, drenched in blood, beautiful in their madness. being upset that their hair was forcibly cut or their favorite bra was snapped or missing their skincare routine. girls kissing girls. feeling icky when they've been stripped of their womanhood. being empowered when they reclaim what's rightfully theirs through any means necessary. using their sweet face and lilting voice to draw a false sense of security in their victims. feminine rage and revenge. being underestimated because what could such a pretty little thing like her do? girls kissing girls. ultra femme cottagecore babe drenched in red. black leather dommy mommy being the gentlest caretaker. sisterhood. to be kind and nurturing or cold and cruel. did i mention the girls kissing girls.

[little-peril-stories]

Women in Whump

Hello! If you like whump stories featuring women characters (in any role/character), feel free to browse the list of works below. It's a spreadsheet with links to author and stories with prominent women character in their whump!

Here's the link to the spreadsheet!

It's editable, so you if you know a great example of some 'women in whump stories,' or you wrote on yourself, please feel free to add it! ✨

It doesn't have to be just lady whumpees, FYI. Whumpers, caretakers, what have you. All are welcome. :)

[whumptea]

so sick and tired of people hating on lady whump. give me your lady whumpees slouching against a brick wall, drugged and dazed as they try to make their way home. give me girls covered in blood — whether it be their own or someone else’s. give me lady whumpees who thrash and scream and fight against their restraints. who spit poison at their captors. who cry and beg and plead and kick. i’m so goddamn tired of women in whump either always 1. being the whumper, or 2. being forced into these soft, docile stereotypes that prevent them from expressing anything but. give me more lady whumpees or give me death.

[cepheusgalaxy]

I think we need to torture more girls

[deripmaver]

this is possibly a hot take as someone mostly on the outskirts of the whump community but i don't think that lady whump, or whump with a focus on a woman being hurt, can ever be the same as the excessive and voyeuristic violence against women in mainstream media. to me, one of the key components of whump is identification and empathy with the person being hurt, and that's definitely something lacking from a lot of depictions of violence towards women in mainstream books and tv.

it's of course fine to not personally want to read lady whump, or to find it triggering, but i think it's incorrect to use the violence towards women in media as a strike against the genre. in fact, i think it can be very cathartic to read works of fiction where the emphasis is on identifying with a female victim.

[whumblr]

Punishment

Continuation from Outside- pt 1 here

TW: vague rape threat

-

Dani stumbled along, letting Roman drag her back inside. She didn’t dare dig in her heels nor even attempt to pull at the vice-like grip around her arm. Even when she was sure he was going to tear it off. She was in enough trouble as it was. And no attempt of stalling or resisting was going to help.

Every now and then, her body did refuse to follow. It stuttered, as if the signal to her muscles caused a lag. Remnants of the electricity setting her system to complete haywire. She tripped over her own feet, sure that without Roman pulling her along she would’ve crashed to the floor already.

Her stomach felt even heavier when he held the door to the basement open for her, face like thunder daring her to disobey. She didn’t. And he let her go down on her own, following with heavy stomps on every step.

Roman paced up and down, irritation clear in his expression and his rigid posture. Though the narrowed eyes and weird steps could also indicate some remnants of pain lingering. Only fuelling his anger, unfortunately.

His eyes flared. “Now I’m not one of those idiots who compare a kick in the jewels to actual childbirth. But by god,” he exhaled hard and looked straight into her eyes, “I’m this close to try it out and get you to report in nine months.”

She paled at that, even though she knew he wouldn’t. And he probably couldn’t either, in his current state. But she swallowed any comments on that. Better not to aggravate him any further when he’s this pissed. Also, she had plans in nine months, actually; sitting in a courtroom watching him get sentenced to hell. Couldn't miss that.

So instead, she kept her tightened fists close to her side and looked down. “I’m really sorry.”

“No, you’re not.”

No. She wasn’t. She was pretty chuffed, actually. The feeling just was kinda overshadowed by this huge looming sword dangling right above her. But she still felt a touch of pride through that fear.

“You’re not sorry. And you're never going to be sorry, not even after this. I don’t expect you to. But at the least we can make sure even the mere thought of pulling something like this again will have you break out in cold sweat.”

Or in absolute hysterics... But probably only after she’d escaped this hellhole.

A backhanded fist caught her across the face and in her still wobbly state sent her right to the floor where she remained in a slight daze.

He snagged a fistful of hair, pulling her up, then grabbed her collar and marched her backwards until she felt his knuckles tighten in the fabric. She braced herself. Just in time as he slammed her into a wall. She buckled forward in pain, tensing her abdomen for the expected blow, but he merely kept her up and forced her shoulder blades back against the wall.

He inched closer. Knuckles tight against her collar bones, body pressing forward until she tried to squirm away, back against the wall.

“You wanna try that again?” he all but growled, voice still soft. He made himself awfully vulnerable right now, knee pressing at her leg, taunting her, knowing she wouldn’t dare.

“Don’t tempt me,” she choked out, eyes blazing, but she knew that if she even raised one leg she would buckle forward against him. She needed both feet firmly planted on the ground not to collapse.

“Oh,” he almost purred and pulled her in, still a tight grip on her shirt to make sure she was flushed against him and she felt his breath brush her cheek when he said, “I’ll make sure you’re never tempted again.”

He took a fierce step back, dragged her along, and threw her away from him to the floor.

Dani rolled along with the momentum, but everything happened too fast. Two swift footsteps. A flurry of movement. An explosion of pain against her ribs. It blew her back against something that didn’t give and she slumped against the cold metal.

Slower footsteps, away from her. Returning. She shook her head hard, trying to dispel the haze. Realised that she was slumped against the metal table in the middle of the room, Roman standing over her, preparing something on it.

She heard a snap, looked up and her breath stilled as she saw him holding up a syringe, a familiar blue vial.

A whimper escaped her. She tried to scoot away from him, but Roman barely looked down and stomped down hard on her wrist, keeping her pinned. “No,” he tutted as he felt her pull under his foot, and shifted his weight on it without looking, eyes back on the syringe as he slowly drew in the blue liquid. He flicked a finger against the glass, put it down, and sank down to his knees.

The hand went right for her throat.

“No…” she started. She struggled against him, hands up, trying to push him off, flailing as he tried to catch her wrists. “No, no, no—” He slapped her hard, scooped both wrists up in one hand and pressed them up above her head, pinning them to the ground. He reached up and the blue-filled syringe glinted in the light. “No…” she mewled again as she felt the harsh prick in her neck, but it was already too late.

The pressure on her wrists let up and Roman scrambled back to his feet. He stood over her, looking her straight in the eyes as he rummaged in his pocket. And he pulled out the remote for the electric device around her ankle.

Dani paled. Braced herself. But nothing hit her yet.

“Do it then,” she croaked after a beat, but he merely stared her down, steel glint in his eyes, finger on the button. “Go on! Do it! What are you waiting for?!” And she hated how her voice cracked.

“For the serum to take effect.”

His calm voice punched the breath out of her. Agonising seconds passed, all the while they kept eye contact, both waiting.

And she felt it. It was like the bruise on her cheekbone lit up. Like a light bulb, gradually shining brighter. As if it was growing in size, blood rushing in, the pressing tight sensation pulling at her skin slowly turning to discomfort, to pain.

And only when she winced, Roman smiled. And pressed the button.

Fire shot through her. Hotter, fiercer, more paralysing than before. A garbled scream just about made it to the top of her throat before everything contracted and it died off with a squeaking choke.

She couldn’t breathe! Pain fired through her and she couldn’t let it out in a scream. She’d lost all control over her body, merely lay there on the hard floor, spasming hard, convulsing, all the wrong muscles activating and literally keeping a death grip on her body.

Until it suddenly let go of her and it was like she fell from a great height. Her back hit the floor, punched out the remnants of her scream, and she gasped hard now she could finally breathe again.

“No…” she wheezed, scrambling back from Roman as if it would help. He still had that hard glint in his eyes. “Don’t, not again, I can’t breathe, I ca— You turned up the setting didn’t you?!”

“I did not,” he merely said. Which could be a lie, for all she knew; that serum was supposed to enhance the pain, not the amount of watts taking hold of her muscles.

Another round of pain slammed into her. Burning her from the inside as it clawed for a way out. It felt wrong. Dangerous. As if the crackling electricity stabbed and burned holes into her veins as it seared through, frayed her nerves. It had to stop. Stop! Before it actually would cause damage.

“Do try to bite through it, love,” Roman teased. “If you manage to get out an apology again, maybe I’ll accept it this time.”

“I’m sorry!” Dani choked out as soon as she could. “I am! I—no, don’t, please, it won’t happen again!”

“No,” Roman said, nodding, as he pushed the button again. “It won’t.”

-

Tag list: @firewheeesky @myfriendcallsmeasickwoman19 @whumpawink @painsandconfusion @whumpy-daydreams

@whumpyourdamnpears @auroragehenna @alsolucakairomi @suspicious-whumping-egg @whumppmuhw

@untethered-symphony @withdrawingramen @theforeverdyingperson

[chaotic-orphan]

Heroic betrayal (ix)

Read part one here // Continued from here

THIS SERIES HAS NINE PARTS??!?! IT DOESN’T FEEL THAT LONG, MAYBE FOUR OR FIVE WOW!!!

*~*~*~*~*

Hero woke up buried under extremely heavy sheets. It felt like a net of blankets weighing down on her, like a giant warm hug of safety. The first thing she did when she woke up was nestle deeper into the warmth, letting out a light hum as she did. She was entirely too comfortable, her mind rosey and hazy, exactly how she liked it.

A heartbeat steadily under her ear, warmth radiating off her mattress. The fog in her mind turned thick, impenetrable and she wanted to be sick. The warmth around her clawed at her desperately, trying to lull her into a false sense of security.

She had bolted from the bed, backing up until she hit the wall behind her, before she properly opened her eyes. Her chest heaving with heavy breaths as she glared at the man in her bed.

Flynn peered at her with one eye open, casually throwing an arm under his head to prop himself up. “Mornin’,” he said, his voice low from sleep.

“You fucker,” Hero hissed, her mind flashing back to last night when Supervillain fixed her nose. Flynn had settled her mind for her, leaving her in his artificial weightless-haze. “You said you wouldn’t use your powers on me.”

Flynn shrugged. “I didn’t want you to suffer.”

“No, you didn’t want to see me suffer, and there’s a chasm of a difference between them,” Hero huffed, crossing her arms over the shirt she was wearing. “Then sleeping with me?”

“You never complained before,” Flynn said with a lazy, cocky grin.

“That was before I knew you were a fucking scheming bastard, who,” Hero continued, walking towards her door and opening it. “Coincidentally, has his own room in this hell house. So please, get out.”

Flynn stared at her through half-lidded eyes, two hands behind his head now. Hero hated when he did that. She hated how it exposed his muscles and somehow made him hotter. He knew it too. He knew that she liked it when he reclined like that, because she told him once after a long night.

“I’m comfortable.”

“You’re a liar.”

“I’m a comfortable liar.”

“I hate you,” Hero snapped. The cocky smile dimmed on his face, and she took a little bit of satisfaction at it. Ignoring how it pulled a little on her heartstrings too.

“I know,” he replied softly.

Hero swallowed, lingering by the door, arms folded across her chest. “Were you here all night?”

“Yes,” he said with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he sat up.

“Why?”

“Because you said you didn’t want to be alone,” he answered honestly.

Hero scoffed. “No doubt from your loopy induced haze in my head.”

“Despite what you may like to believe,” Flynn said, getting to his feet. He was fully dressed in the shirt and tracksuit he was wearing last night. Decent and gentlemanly. Infuriatingly. “I can’t sway your ideas in your head. If you want me to, I can find a telepath for you to put all your blame on.”

“Oh yeah? And will you kidnap them too?” She snapped, eyes blazing.

Flynn scoffed, grabbing his socks and shoes before walking towards Hero by the door. Hero’s heart beat double-time the closer Flynn got to her, but she maintained her resolve.

That was, until Flynn stopped in the doorway beside her. She shifted her feet under his gaze, feeling his eyes travel over every pore, lingering on every feature, tracing a line down the curve of her neck.

Her breath hitched when he reached forward, a hand cupping her cheek, the heel of his palm tilted her head up. So gentle. Filled with too much everything— Flynn knew her better than anyone, knew what made her tick, what made her nervous, her fears. His touch lit a fire under her skin, but his eyes laid her naked before him, and sent shivers down her spine.

“We could make this so nice,” he whispered like the snake tempting eve in the garden, his thumb running over her bottom lip. “We could go back to the way things were. We were happy.”

How Hero ached for that to be true. How she wanted to abandon her defences, to forget the heartache at his betrayal, and run into his awaiting arms. He could make her forget everything, what he did to Sidekick, what he was doing to her. Hell, he could make her forget that she was ever a Hero and it would be so easy.

Her eyes burned with unshed tears as she swallowed a sob and covered his hand with hers. “That was before you betrayed me, and everything I thought you were.”

“Hero…”

“How can I believe anything you say? How do I know that you weren’t seducing me as some plan you concocted with your father?” She asked, breathlessly. He dropped his shoes and socks with a clatter to the floor and stepped closer to her, caging her in against the door.

His eyes implored her to trust him, to love him, to believe him. She couldn’t look at the desire in them, so she looked at his lips instead. His soft lips.

“You know what we had was real,” he murmured, his hot breath fanning her face. “Believe in us. Believe in what your heart knows to be true. I love you, Hero.”

Hero’s bottom lip trembled against his touch. She swallowed and turned her head away, pressing her hand against his chest with more restraint than she thought herself capable of.

“Please, Flynn,” she said, her voice soft like the static in the air before a thunderstorm. “Just leave me alone.”

Flynn paused, his touch faltering and for a second she thought he was going to kiss her anyways. Something heartbroken inside her that still loved him told her that he would never do something like that. That there were lines of decency even a traitor wouldn’t cross.

“Fine,” he said, dropping his hand from her face and stepping back, scooping up his discarded shoes and socks. Hero did the right thing. She knows she did the right thing, so why does it feel like something just tore a hole through her chest? “Look, I know we were friends once, maybe more than that, maybe not, but right now Hero? I’m your only friend here. Your only refuge.”

Hero felt as if she had just been slapped. “Is that a threat? Be nice to me or else?”

Flynn had the audacity to look hurt. “No, that’s not—”

“Goodbye, Flynn,” she ground out through clenched teeth, stepping away from the door and grabbing it in her hand, ready to slam it in his face.

He sighed, running a hand through his hair. “See you later.”

The moment he stepped out of door frame she closed the door and leaned her back against it, sliding down and hugging her knees to her chest. She let the tears fall when she was alone, unaware that on the other side of the door, Flynn was listening to her, a pained expression colouring his features.

*~*~*~*~*

Hours later a knock sounded on her door. Hero ignored it. She watched the door handle open from her bed, her back propped against the headboard, her legs stretched out, crossed over at the ankles a book with its spine broken between her fingers. She inclined her head when the door opened, expecting it to be Flynn but froze when she saw a mess of black hair.

Villain was wearing a red leather jacket, contrasting against his sharp pale features and dark hair, making him seem other worldly. He smirked when he noticed Hero’s tension, he kicked the door open with his foot, crossing his arms and leaning against the door frame.

“I’ve been told to call you for dinner.”

“Like the good dog you are.”

“Woof,” Villain replied, a grin that made her skin crawl spreading across his features. “Of course, you hurt Flynn’s feelings so he’s licking his wounds in his room. You get me instead.”

“Yeah, well, I lost my appetite looking at your face.”

Shadow hands sprung from the backboard of the bed and grabbed Hero’s wrists before she realised what was happening. They squeezed, hard, until she dropped the book, shackling her in a ring of icy coldness, that yanked her arms back sharply and pressed them against the headboard. Hero didn’t even struggle and suppressed her whimpers of pain, but it must have shown on her face because Villain’s grin got wider as he stepped into her room.

“I would be nicer to me, Hero.” Villain cautioned, his fingers curling slowly into a fist in his hand, the shadows tightening more until Hero couldn’t keep her cries locked behind her teeth anymore. “We could be friends, like you and Flynn, hmm?”

“Friends don’t hurt each other,” Hero ground out, pulling against the shadows keeping her pinned. With all the effort she put behind it, it only resulted in her muscles shaking in her arms.

“Well, we’re not friends yet, and besides, it’s not hurting each other. I’m just hurting you.”

Hero looked away from Villain, staring pointedly at the wall to her right just to piss him off. Who did he think he was? Another cold hand stroked a finger along her jaw. Hero shivered at the touch, but refused to look at Villain. That’s when she heard footsteps round her bed until she was staring at worn, red leather in front of her.

“It doesn’t have to be like this,” Villain said, crouching down so he was eye-level with the stubborn Hero. He tilted his head with a smile. “Hmm? You’re stuck here, y’know. Unless you grow a spine and want to kill your friend, in which case, well, you’d belong here.”

“Let me go,” Hero snapped, pulling against the shadows. Villain let out a dark, breathy laugh, standing again as he shook his head. His hand shot out, as cold as his shadows and pinched her chin between his fingers tilting her head up sharply.

“The sooner you learn your place here the better, I mean,” Villain said, sucking in a breath as if it hurt. “Upsetting Flynn? The only person here on your side? Not a smart move, not one I would make. Or Supervillain if he were in your shoes. I mean, aren’t you supposed to be smart? Isn’t that your whole thing? Cause god knows you’re not strong.”

Hero’s lips curled back into a snarl and she shot her leg out. Shadows caught her ankle before it made contact and yanked her down the bed, but the hold on her wrists didn’t budge and so her body was stretched taut, pulled in two directions.

Villain released his grip on her chin when his shadows caught her foot and now he just stood back as she cried out and tried to gain purchase on the bed with her other leg for support.

“You know, it’s not nice to kick people.”

“Get off of me!”

“I’m not on you, Hero. Why? Do you want me to be?” Hero’s breath caught in her throat at the very thinly layered threat in Villain’s voice, and the sick fuck seemed to feed off her panic. “Relax Hero, I’m not that kind of Villain. I won’t touch you until you beg for it.”

His words sent shivers down her spine, and when the shadow on her ankle dissolved Hero quickly pulled it into her chest, retreating up her bed back to where her hands were pinned, not taking her eyes off him for a second.

Villain hummed, then turned and walked towards the door. He lifted his hand and clicked his fingers without looking at her. The shadows dissipated, leaving her wrists red raw but otherwise unharmed. “Come along, Hero. Like I said. Dinner’s ready.”

On the way downstairs, Villain rapped on Flynn’s door and yelled: “grubs up.” Hero didn’t take her glare off of Villain’s back the whole way down her U-shaped stairs to the second floor. It wouldn’t matter either way considering all the shadows he could utilise to torture her, and there was no way she could keep eyes everywhere.

Though when Flynn’s door opened, she paused on the last step of her stairs, watching him as he walked out of his room and shut the door. He didn’t look at her as he followed Villain down the stairs. He may as well have slapped her in the face. Actually, she’d rather he would have slapped her, or looked at her, or even paused when he saw her in the corner of his eye. But he continued through the landing and to the stairs like she wasn’t even there, and Hero swore her heart broke inside her chest all over again.

She followed the brothers down to the dining room in silence. Flynn and Villain were already sitting down at the Supervillain’s side of the table, both on either side of where Supervillain sat. Hero stared at the chair beside Flynn, something urging her to sit beside him, but instead she sat at other opposite head of the table. Yanking her chair out and sitting down.

Why should she be the one who’s suffering or feeling guilty? Flynn should be the one feeling guilty. It was his fault she was here. His fault that she was on Supervillain’s radar in the first place. His fault that Sidekick is in the hospital.

Villain’s cunning eyes went between the pair. “Trouble in paradise, lovebirds?”

“Oh shut up, Vil,” Flynn snapped.

Hero leaned forward, clasping her hands in front of her as if she was about to conduct a meeting. She smiled sweetly at Villain, sickeningly sweet. “Yes. No trouble at all, Vil. I wouldn’t touch a villain with a ten foot pole if I could help it, but considering I’m on house arrest with a family of villains, I’ve had to make some concessions.”

Flynn shot her a scathing look, his cocky smirk sliding onto his face. “That’s not what you said when you were cuddling me this morning.”

Villain’s entire face lit up, eyes going between the pair, enjoying the two of them silently fuming at each other. “Damn. You could cut the tension with a knife. Get a room, guys.”

Supervillain stepped through the doors that joined the kitchen to the dining room with two steaming plates. “Dinner’s ready!” He exclaimed happily. Noticing the atmosphere, he raised his brows. “What’s wrong?”

“A lover’s tiff,” Villain answered at the same time that Hero and Flynn bit out: “nothing.”

Supervillain hummed, walking down to Hero and sliding a plate in front of her. It smelled divine, like last time, and Hero’s stomach grumbled at the sight. Two steaks of salmon and green beans and cauliflower. “For your strength,” Supervillain beamed at her, then walked to Villain and served him next.

He disappeared through the doors again. Villain smiled at Flynn. “I got mine first, I’m the favourite.”

“You wish,” Flynn said, folding his arms across his chest. “He serves me last because hr wants to make sure my dinner is still hot.”

Supervillain appeared again and sat at the table beside Flynn, handing him his plate too. “Ah. Bon Appétit.”

They ate in relative silence, Villain or Flynn would say something and they’d start a conversation that would ebb and flow while Hero ate quietly, trying her best not to scoff the whole plate down in seconds, but she didn’t have breakfast or lunch today, so she was starving.

“How’s the nose, Hero?” Supervillain asked.

“It’s fine,” Hero replied coldly, then stiffened, thinking better of disrespecting him and added a quiet, “thank you.”

“Good. Glad to hear it. I actually got you some papers today.”

Hero raised her brows. “Oh.”

“To keep you up on the news,” Supervillain told her, his smile reminiscent of his son’s, though maybe a bit more civil, but no less shark-like and menacing. “Don’t want you completely disconnected from the world.”

Hero pushed at the remains of her dinner with her fork, tightening her grip on the utensil. “You just want to torture me as much as possible, is that it?”

“Torture you? What would be the point? I have you immobilised and incapacitated. I don’t need to torture you any further. I just thought you’d like to know—”

“How the world’s doing outside my fucking prison?” She demanded, raising her gaze to meet Supervillain’s. Supervillain’s smile remained on his face and she wanted nothing more than to climb over the table and slap it off. “No thanks.”

“Things can be pleasant for you here, Hero.”

“Thanks, but no thanks.”

Supervillain tilted his head to the side, steepled his fingers in front of his face. “You didn’t let me finish, Hero. Things can be pleasant for you here, Hero, or—”

Hero felt the cold hands of Villain’s power grab her wrists again and yank them behind the back of her chair, her fork clattering along the floor of the dining room. “We can make it very, very difficult for you if you’d prefer. Which would you rather, now that you’ve tasted the cell and the room?”

“I’d rather you let me go, you fucking dick!” She hissed, trying to yank her hands free, but each time she got an inch her hands were clamped down tighter, almost dragging her over the chair, but she planted her feet on the ground, resolute, and glared at the man. “Stop threatening my friends and give yourself up to the proper authorities while you’re at it! That’s what I’d prefer over this playing house bullshit!”

“Hero,” Flynn cautioned. Hero scoffed. She would have threw her arms up if she could, bordering on hysterical.

“Now you deign to talk to me?” She cried. “Save it!”

She turned her gaze, crueller now, back to Supervillain, adopting a false sense of innocence. “I mean, this isn’t really a proper family, is it? Where’s the mother figure after all?”

Hero only got the briefest of seconds to enjoy Supervillain’s easy smiling expression dipping, turning to cold fury before a shadowed hand grabbed her throat, followed by Villain who grabbed her where the shadow hand did, and slammed her back against the wall.

“You fucking bitch,” he seethed. “You really don’t know when to shut up, do you?”

Hero spit at him in reply, cracking a smile despite her face that was steadily changing from red to purple at her oxygen being cut off. It wasn’t a proper glob, more like a spray of saliva, even her fucking spit was limp at her circumstances.

“Villain,” Supervillain said as Hero gasped on air that she wasn’t getting. Hero could barely hear him when he spoke again, her eyes rolling to the back of her head as she clung desperately to air. She fell to the ground deadweight, head smacking off the floor but she barely noticed it as she gasped in oxygen like a fish being thrown back into a river.

Her throat screamed at the abuse, screamed at her to stop fucking tempting fate and cruelty of the family of villains but she couldn’t bring herself to care if they killed her or not. It would be preferable, honestly.

But then who would help Sidekick? Her stupid, logical voice chimed in as she pushed herself up by her hands. A pair of tailored trousers met her gaze as she righted herself, she had only begun to tilt her head up, her mind cloudy when she felt a hand lock around her upper arm and drag her to her feet.

She stumbled up, her leg faltering behind and falling again but the grip didn’t loosen and the legs didn’t slow down and Hero was forced to make her legs work after depriving them of oxygen for the last twenty seconds.

“Dad.” Flynn’s voice. “Dad!”

“Enough, Flynn.” They were in the kitchen Hero realised, the wood of the dining room floor replaced with the black tiles. Supervillain was holding her, dragging her to the far side of the kitchen and she had the sense to start digging her heels in when they reached a door she wasn’t familiar with. “We tried it your way, Flynn. Now, we’ll try it Villain’s way and compare notes.”

“Dad, no. Wait!” Flynn cried. Hero turned her head over her shoulder to see Villain’s sharp grin, arms around Flynn to stop him from following Hero and Supervillain wherever they were going. “Dad!”

“Ladies first,” Supervillain said after he opened the door and with a pause, he pressed his hand to Hero’s back and shoved her down the stairs.

*~*~*~*~*

Orphanage roll-call: (lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @xenlust @books-are-everything @micechomper r @shywhumpauthor @aarika-merrill @xxgalgurlxx @0eggdealer @watermelonrandom @tippytappytyping @silentpotat0 @swift-perseides s s @gloriousqueen101 @ladygwennn @books-are-everything @isnortkoolaidpowderteehee @memepsychowhowantsuperpower-blog

[spirit-whump]

The whump fandom usually prioritizes male characters, so tell me in the tags your favourite female characters to whump! OCs or canon characters, whumpees or whumpers - name some women.

[lady-whump-ocs]

Lady Whump OC Blog

To give female whumpees the love they deserve!

Hello whumpblr.

Noticing that lady whump does not get as much love as other kind of whump, I thought this should be changed.

This blog is for you all!

[sickfictropes]

when i started this blog i asked "who likes lady whump?" and so many people responded but whenever i post lady whump prompts they do significantly worse than similar prompts with he/him pronouns. this is not me complaining, it's me ringing the dinner bell!!! food's ready, lady whumpers!! come eat!!

[lumpsbumpsandwhumps]

Women In Whump Pt. 1

[women-in-writing]

Women in Whump: Fantasy Edition 1

- Maid who's disguising herself as a squire is discovered and put in a pillory as punishment.

- Elfish woman who's captured by a corrupt ruler and forced to act as her Royal Advisor.

- Poor village woman betrothed to a wealthy merchant runs away and stows away on a ship that she has no idea where it's going.

- Farm girl collapses from exhaustion after working the field all day for her sick parents.

- Noblewoman escaping a controlling/ abusive spouse who hides on a farm, having to learn how to keep to with all the chores.

- Orc woman who's captured and forced to act as a "sparring partner" for a contingent of knights.

- Halfling rogue gets caught robbing a wealthy landowners estate.

- Cursed woman who's driven from her village by an angry mob.

- Woman cursed to turn into an animal during the day being tracked by hunters, arrows whizzing past her as she begs the sun to set faster.

Non-con under the cut!

- Newly wedded queen trying not to break down as her and the king 'comsumate' their relationship, all of his advisors and nobles watching.

- Woman posing as a knight is discovered by her fellow soldiers and is gang raped.

- Dwarven woman forced to shave all her body and facial hair for a human who 'owns' her.

- Barmaid at a tavern who's sold by her boss to a group of travelling adventurers as a 'reward' for slaying a monster that was attacking the town.

- A brothel run by a sorceress who curses women to be completely obedient.