Really obsessed with a Guilty Whumper who breaks down crying after SAing Whumpee, possibly apologizing, possibly lamenting about how they can't control their urges and calling themselves sick, possibly asking Whumpee why they had to go and make them angry, and Whumpee being forced to comfort them and assure them it's okay ♥️
"guilty" whumper who is not remorseful enough to ease up on the assault for a second but compulsively apologizes as they do it vs self-loathing, already tramautized whumpee who reflexively says it's okay (it is most certainly not)
whumper who is guilty (whether truthfully or as a manipulation tactic) about what they're doing and take it out on their victim(s) is so compelling to me, for real.
--
"i'm awful," whumper says, their voice thick with emotion. they lay on top of whumpee, drying fluids and bare skin creating an uncomfortable, nauseating chill. "you hate me, i know you hate me. i'm a monster." their chest shudders against whumpee's and their face tucks harder into the side of whumpee's neck. "i'm sorry. i'm so sorry, i just-" one of their hands roams down the side of whumpee's body, continuing to grope them despite the way that whumpee squirms and flinches the same way they have the whole time. "i'm sorry."
"it's okay," whumpee murmurs. they stare straight up at the ceiling and try not to cry or thrash or fight or throw up. whumper is so clearly guilty. they so clearly feel awful about it. this was going to be a one-time thing. it would never happen again. whumpee has been hurt before and they never apologized, never even seemed to recognize that they'd done something wrong. this was different. it was awful, and whumpee hated it, they hadn't wanted it, but whumper knows that. "it's alright, i- it's okay."
it doesn't feel okay. if whumpee were honest, it's not okay. they aren't okay. they don't quite feel totally present in their body, at the same time that some parts of their body are all too acutely aware of what's happening. but whumper's guilt and pain was so intense, and whumpee felt like they would choke on the outpouring of emotion if it continued. they needed it to stop.
they just need to get through this. they need to get through this however they can, and it will never happen again. whumper is just so sorry. it won't possibly ever happen again.
Reluctant Vampire Whumper my beloved. Imagine them shyly explaining why they need whumpee, the hunger obvious on their face with their tired eyes and the way their tongue lines their fangs. The instant guilt that washes over them as they drink of whumpee, trying to ignore whumpee's screams and begging words.
I cannot deny you KBT, your power is too strong... here you go
Defiant Leader x Confident Villain (VIII)
Read part one here // continued from here
FINALLY!!!! It’s here, so in this part I tried to include names in the piece to test them out— so here’s the index
Villain is “Riley”
Leader is “Noah Larkin”
Supervillain is “Hadrian”
And Rival is “Booker”
So please tell me (if you want to) if you think they fit the characters or not, I’m kind of iffy on Riley, but lmk if you like it or not— sorry for the delay
*****
Riley swallowed as they stared at Noah, his head heavy in their hands. They couldn’t move, frozen in place, beside Noah’s slumped and bleeding body, the air knocked out of their lungs. The commission was threatening to kill their old teammates. How did that make any sense? When Riley worked with team, Noah worked for the commission! Willingly! He even ranted about their bureaucracy and threatened to leave a few times when Riley was with them, so why? When did the Hero Commission turn on Noah? How? Noah had them wrapped around his finger. It didn’t make sense.
It didn’t make any sense, but they knew he wasn’t lying. They knew Noah well enough to know that he was more than scared, he was terrified. But Noah… he said that the commission would kill their old teammates… that-that some unknown He would. Who? Who would turn against Noah? Not the CEO of the commission, no, he actually liked Noah, this was someone else. Someone new? But who?
Riley jumped as a giant hand settled on their cheek. Wide eyes flashed to icy blue, their heart leaping in their chest as they dropped their hands from Noah’s cheek. “Woah, easy tiger,” Hadrian said with a soft smile. “It’s just me. You have some blood on your face.”
Riley nodded numbly and reached their arm up to wipe it on their sleeve. Hadrian caught their forearm and clucked his tongue, admonishing, “you’ll ruin your shirt Riley, come on. Let’s get you cleaned up.”
Riley’s brain was too full, thoughts flying like wasps out of a kicked hornet’s nest, that they didn’t even consider fighting Hadrian or denying him when he pulled the whip from Riley’s hand and settled it on the trolley neatly behind them.
Hadrian took Riley’s arm and steered them towards the door of the vault. Away from Noah, away from the stench of iron that threatened to choke them, away from the crimson that painted the walls, away from their tools so neatly placed; that they used so well. So efficiently. Effortlessly. Without batting an eye. Even against their previous leader… their old friend… they– they didn’t even flinch, did they?
Is this all they were now? Was there nothing left of them? Were they just Hadrian’s monster, his weapon, his interrogator. They weren’t Riley anymore. They were only this, the information broker and Hadrian’s victim-breaker.
Before Hadrian got the door open Riley lurched to the side and the contents of their stomach spilled hot like acid up their throat and onto the floor. Hands found them again and pushed them into a strong, warm chest, holding them close and shushing them gently.
“It’s okay, Riley. You did amazing work today. I’m so proud of you,” Hadrian cooed as Riley shook in his arms, trembling. Distantly Riley knew it was an adrenaline crash, or something akin to it, their body drained, and their mind shot. Something Medic always warned them about.
How Second would cockily claim: “I’m too experienced to need adrenaline to help me fight.”
Medic’s gaze swung dryly to Second. “Adrenaline doesn’t help you fight, idiot. It works against you when you fight. Adrenaline’s job is to keep you alive.”
“It’s okay, Riley. It’s okay.” Hadrian shushed as Riley bunched his shirt between desperate fingers and sobbed. “You did so well,” he told them as he brushed his fingers through Riley’s hair. “You did so well. Don’t worry.”
I know, Riley thought bitterly. That’s the problem. They were just so good, weren’t they? So good at hurting people. So good at knowing how to break people, which buttons to press, what damage to inflict.
Hadrian held Riley until they stopped crying, until they were just standing limply in his arms, tears wrung out. Their breathing, finally, mercifully even, no longer hitching every time they took a breath. Their body drained as they leaned against Hadrian’s chest, sniffing pathetically. Their hands loosely clasped Hadrian’s shirt between their fingers. They stared blankly at the blood staining his shirt, their mind too slow to realise that it was Noah’s blood… and it was still wet, and they wanted to be sick again.
Hadrian grabbed Riley’s shoulders and pushed them back, hooking his index finger under Riley’s chin to raise their eyes to Hadrian’s. Their bottom lip threatened to tremble at the bright, loving way Hadrian stared down at them. His ice-toned eyes warm and gentle as he smiled.
“I’m so proud of you. I know how hard this must have been for you. Come. Let’s celebrate.”
“I’m…” Riley said numbly, gesturing at their face. “I probably look like a mess… pe– the others can’t see me like this.” Their voice breaking.
Hadrian frowned, his voice soft as he asked “who can’t? Who would dare say a word to you when you’re with me, little one? Carrying out my orders.”
Riley looked away, staring at Noah’s limp body still attached to the wall. When they spoke, their voice was hollow. “It’s not when I’m with you that I’m worried about. It will be… seen as a weakness, sir.”
They did that to him. If they hadn’t injected Noah with the pain receptor enhancer, then none of this would have happened. But Hadrian wanted a show, he wanted a show and this way at least Noah wouldn’t be too badly hurt when he woke.
Yeah, a nasty voice chimed, keep telling yourself you did this for him, Riles. Maybe you’ll even believe it.
Hadrian moved a hand to Riley’s cheek and Riley let him turn their gaze away from Noah, a lump forming in their throat. Two hands cupped Riley’s cheeks and two warm thumbs wiped away the tear tracks form their face. He tilted Riley’s head back. It was nice, they thought, not having to hold up the weight of it alone. They wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed and hide under their covers and never come out again.
Something… snapped within them, something heavy, something important. They longed to sink into themself. But Hadrian’s strong and comforting hands kept them in their body, in the moment and soft icy eyes tried to gather the fragments of the broken thing and mend it.
“Should anyone say anything to you about what occurred here, you point them in my direction, do you understand? Should they feel a need to question it, let them question me.”
And if that person is your darling Booker? Riley wondered, and it brought them back. Hadrian’s Riley returned, while Noah’s version departed. They remembered suddenly who they were. They weren’t Noah’s weak link anymore. They weren’t some child, overlooked and underappreciated. They were Hadrian’s interrogator. Part of his inner circle. They were trusted; they had a voice. They were listened to, and they weren’t the type of person to break and gawk at an unconscious body. Riley let out a breath and nodded, putting a hand over Hadrian’s. They stepped back out of his arms.
“Okay,” they said. “That sounds good to me.”
They wiped the tears from their face and straightened. They even offered Hadrian a smile as they nodded again, at the door this time. “Let’s celebrate.”
The vault door spun open. Riley stepped out before Hadrian, refusing to back over their shoulder to Noah again. Hadrian clapped them on the back and shut the vault while Riley strut their way through the halls towards Hadrian’s office, their footsteps loud, announcing their presence and warning any undesirables away.
Thankfully they didn’t encounter anyone along the way, something Riley was both grateful for and disappointed with. A restless energy buzzed through their veins now, and they itched for a fight. Anyone would do as long as they fought back. Maybe they’d take a trip down to the pits tonight and see if there was anyone willing to go against them.
But right now? They needed to relax, take the edge off and Hadrian’s office was Riley’s favourite place to do that. The forest green walls with dark wood and leather furniture was so comforting, they could sink into it and let it hold their weary heart. Not to mention the fireplace that Hadrian usually left roaring and the fluffy red throw blanket Riley had accidentally left there early in their career. The one Hadrian always left folded on Riley’s favourite recliner for when they needed a place to relax. When their quarters became too quiet and Riley needed someone else’s presence to allow them to sleep at all. And when they padded in, Hadrian never questioned them, only offered them a warm smile… and God they needed that right now.
Riley grabbed the handle to Hadrian’s office and threw it open.
“Well?” A honeyed voice asked, and warm brown eyes met Riley’s as they stepped into the office. Riley’s heart stuttered in their chest, and they froze as they stared at Booker, their mouth going dry. The nick on their neck stung in reminder of the last time they were in a room with Booker alone. Booker seemed to remember it too, his eyes flashing to Riley’s throat and up again to meet their eyes, his smile growing. “Oh, look at you. You’re a mess, Rye. You really didn’t hold anything back on your poor Larkin, huh?”
Riley swallowed hard, their grip on the handle of the door turning white as they narrowed their eyes. “What are you doing here?”
“I was sent here,” Booker said brightly, putting his hands behind his back as he approached Riley slowly. “I have to debrief with Hadrian, and you’re about six inches too short and far too gorgeous, but –” Booker stepped closer, leaning down so his breath fanned Riley’s face, “I’m not angry about you walking through the door and not him.”
A hand clapped Riley on the shoulder before they could reply, snapping them out of their uncomfortable daze where they didn’t know what to say, or what to do when Booker got too close. Booker straightened immediately, though his taunting eyes didn’t leave them as Hadrian walked towards the bar in the far-right corner of the office. Only when Booker’s eyes flickered away did Riley allow themselves to relax their tense muscles, not letting it show that Booker got to them. But the tension from the release exhausted them and Riley’s eyes fixed on their red blanket on their recliner right next to the open fire and started towards it.
“Ah, Booker. Did you hear the good news?” Hadrian asked like a proud father as he started fixing them some drinks, glass decanters and rum bottles clinking like he was an alchemist or a witch brewing potions at her cauldron.
“I saw it,” Booker said, following Riley to the fireplace, but opting to sit in one of the chocolate leather armchairs opposite Riley’s sofa. His hungry brown eyes found Riley’s as they toed off their boots and lifted their blanket, almost sighing at the soft fleece beneath their fingers, lips quipping as he looked pointedly at Riley’s neck until they covered it up with the blanket and stared into the fire. “Unless that’s poor Riley’s blood on their face and neck?”
Riley didn’t acknowledge the taunt as they curled their legs up on the couch, focusing on the flames that danced and spit against the logs, bathing in the warmth. “Well– ah for God’s sake Riley,” Hadrian muttered as he emerged from behind the couch with two glasses in his hand, and saw Riley already cuddled up when they hadn’t cleaned the blood from their face or shirt yet.
He dipped his chin, cocking a brow as Riley offered him an apologetic smile. He shook his head fondly and walked towards them, handing them a glass of his best Russian vodka. Only half full, which Riley wouldn’t complain about, but they usually preferred a double of Hadrian’s measure. One of Riley’s favourite things about their new boss? He buys the expensive shit, and he doesn’t admonish Riley when they want to indulge for health reasons, or they have to be up early reasons, or is that your third bottle tonight reasons.
Truth be told, they wanted to ask for the bottle, but one look at Booker’s stupid smirking face and Riley thought it best to just accept this drink graciously. Hadrian handed the other glass to Booker and walked behind the couch again to fetch his own glass.
“You missed an absolute show, Booker,” Hadrian said happily, more bottles and glass clinking as he filled his own and returned to the couch, sitting on the opposite end to Riley. His mountainous figure dominating most of it, making the glass in his hand look comically small. He winked at Riley as he took a sip of his honey-coloured drink. “We learned something very interesting about Larkin and the commission.”
Riley’s stomach turned at the reminder. They avoided Booker’s greedy stare and glanced to the fire again, expression sombre. “No doubt it was an interesting session,” Booker purred, trying to stoke a reaction, but Riley was drained. They didn’t care for anything other than the drink in their hand and the comfort of the couch beneath their body. “What was it you got out of him? Larkin, is he still breathing?”
Hadrian was waiting for Riley to divulge the information like they usually did, but seeming to realise Riley had tuned out the world, he continued. “It seems Larkin and the commission are no longer partners. There must be a new member on the board who runs a tighter ship.”
“Or just got tired of Larkin’s shit,” Booker muttered. “But it’s lucky you got that out of him, today, because coincidentally I learned something about the commission today too,” Booker purred, finally grabbing Riley’s attention. His eyes briefly flashed to theirs with a grin. “I’ve learned that there is, in fact, a new head of the Commission.”
Riley frowned. “But there’s been no new appointments to the Commission.”
“That’s why I’m the Master of Information and not you, dear Rye. Apparently, this new member isn’t fond of having a target on their back, and so is puppeteering the commission from the shadows. My contact said that they are ruthless in their changes to the Hero regulations and on the Heroes themselves.” Booker turned his head to Riley, his grin widening. “Maybe they’re as good at torturing your old colleagues as you are, Rye.”
Riley swallowed a gulp of their vodka, and then another as they turned to the fire again. They wished they could feel that hit on their skin instead of this horrible weight. Booker’s words hit their mark perfectly, punching a hole through their chest, and ripping the air out of Riley’s body, letting them slowly get crushed under the weight of the atmosphere.
“You have no idea who this new head of the commission is?” Hadrian’s strong voice rumbled. Riley was glad of it, letting it soothe the desperate part of them as they felt Booker’s attention slide back to Hadrian.
“No. My contact said the information is on a need-to-know basis.”
“And?”
Booker paused. A shrug in the corner of Riley’s eye. “Apparently nobody needs to know.”
Hadrian hummed. The flames licked against the fireplace, soot clinging to the black metal grate as it got sucked up into the flue tunnel. The Hero commission was all about transparency. An independent organisation that was made to ensure the heroes were regulated properly. Riley knew that was bullshit before they left, the government just made an independent organisation so that they could get their hands dirty and use the heroes for their own agenda. But that wasn’t the worrying part. Noah’s fear-flooded eyes flashed in front of them. They swallowed thickly.
“Find out.” Hadrian said at last. A dismissal.
“Of course, sir. It will be my pleasure.” With that Booker got to his feet and set his glass down on the wooden coffee table between the armchairs. He nodded at Hadrian as he turned to leave. “I’ll be sure to find out who we can thank for putting Larkin on such a short leash.”
Neither Hadrian nor Riley answered as Booker walked out of the office. They didn’t speak until they heard the heavy door open and softly click shut. Riley didn’t pull their gaze from the fire, though they longed to sit in front of it now and let their skin go red with heat until it turned painful.
“Y’alright Kiddo?”
Riley swallowed the emotion that threatened to jump up their throat at the gentleness in Hadrian’s voice. They pushed down a sob that wanted to claw its way up their chest and turned to look at the older man now, who merely stretched out an arm. Riley crawled over with their blanket still wrapped around them and put their head on his chest like a pathetic child in need of comfort. Hadrian’s arm locked around them as tears rolled down their cheeks and they dissolved in Hadrian’s familiar smell.
“It’s alright. Everything will be alright.”
“The commission… the- the new head, they’re threatening to kill N- Larkin, and my old team.”
“You told me yourself that he liked to push them, Riles. Perhaps Booker’s right. Maybe they just got sick of him dictating how they should run things.”
Riley looked up at Hadrian with watery eyes. Hadrian pressed a soft kiss to Riley’s hair. “Booker will find out who this new commissioner is, and when he does, we will decide what to do then. We’ll put Larkin in the cells until I make a decision.”
Tension loosed itself from Riley’s body. They wouldn’t have to torture Noah again, thank god. “But I don’t want you around him.”
“What?”
“Ever since he’s come here, you have been distracted Riley.”
“But surely, you understand–”
“Of course I understand, kid. But that boy is not good for you anymore. He told me of his plans to try and get in your head.”
Riley pulled away a little, the alcohol loosening their hold over their emotions and their expression as they turned to face Hadrian. “I would never turn on you, no matter what he tries to say or do. You saved me, Hadrian.”
Hadrian’s smile was warm, but his eyes were sad. He held his arm out again and Riley launched themselves into his side, wrapping their free arm around him as they leaned all of their weight against him. “Don’t let him get in your head, either. That’s what he was actually trying to do. Create a divide between us. Cast doubt in your mind over my loyalties. I belong here.”
Hadrian huffed as Riley squeezed him tight. “Maybe you’re right,” Hadrian hummed, running his hand gently over Riley’s hair, his gaze drawn to the flames over their head. They remained like that for hours. After Riley’s confession they fell asleep against him, and Hadrian shifted them so their head rest on his thigh and he covered them with their blanket again.
He was old. He was getting old, he realised as he gazed down at Riley. They were trying so hard to act like their encounter with Larkin wasn’t affecting them, but he could see it. Their hesitation around the hero. And yet they had done as he asked, they had tortured him as they would anybody else that Hadrian asked them to, maybe they pulled their punches a little, but… no. They didn’t hold back during the whipping; poor Larkin’s throat would be raw when he woke from his screams Riley drew out of him with cold efficiency.
Hadrian sighed. Still. The way Riley threw up after. The way their heart still beat for their old team. And Riley was loyal, Hadrian didn’t doubt that. It was only a matter of how loyal they were to him, and how loyal they were to their old team. Riley was honest when they said that they wouldn’t turn on him, that Hadrian saved them, but he had an inkling that Larkin had probably saved them too before. It was all such a mess.
He shouldn’t have gotten so close to the kid, but they were so skinny and lost when Hadrian found them, their eyes hard, their words sharp and cutting, but Hadrian sensed more underneath. And like a feral cat being rescued, over time, Riley opened up more and more. Hadrian enjoyed their jokes and hearing them grumble about other villains. He liked when they spoke and smiled widely, easily, as if they forgot how hard it was when they arrived initially, so torn between their past as a hero and their present helping the villains…
It was the same shell they were falling back into with Larkin around and it was breaking Hadrian’s heart seeing them retreat into themselves, no doubt at war with themselves again. He wanted to make them happy, and they couldn’t be happy when Larkin was a living reminder of what they used to be. Hadrian sighed again. Though he knew they wouldn’t like it, he had to put his foot down regarding visits between them and their former boss. It was for their own good. And, selfishly he knew, his, too.
*~*~*~*~*
Also if you have any name ideas for the series please give me them, I am begging
Orphanage roll-call (tag-list, lmk if you wanna be added or removed): @nameless-beanie @aarika-merrill @criohfreeze @bandnbookbag @gala1981 @theonewithallthefixations @libellule888 @cardboardarsonist @shywhumpauthor @written-by-jayy
Trope of the day: “I must confess that I feel like a monster.”
_
Whumper's hands shake as they sit outside the room where Whumpee is regaining consciousness. They overdid it, but they were forced to continue.
They cannot act without their bosses consent, and even Whumpee seemed to have realised that.
Making sure that no one else is here, Whumper sneaks into Whumpee's room, surprised to see them awake. But instead of being scared of them, flinching by Whumper coming closer, Whumpee nods at them.
“I ... I must confess that I feel like a monster,” Whumper croaks, feeling their mouth run dry. “I want this to stop as much as you do.”
Whumpee looks at them for a long second, half of their face swollen and bruised. But they crack a smile.
What are your favorite enemy turned caretaker tropes? Does it go with whumper turned caretaker for you, or do you have something different in mind?
Hey! Thank you for the ask :D
I don't really have one favorite, because I like that dynamic in general tbh, as long as it's well-written (so it doesn't look like a sudden change of heart dynamic, yk?).
But I can definitely give you some tropes I most enjoy inside Enemy to Caretaker. Most dynamics I think of are in war settings, lab settings or settings that the dynamic really is enemies, not only whumpee&whumper.
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➛ Enemy-to-Caretaker
No content warnings for this one, there's nothing explicit here, just general whump ;)
◆ Reluctant Whumper turned Caretaker ->
A Whumper that has to hurt/incarcerate/whump the Whumpee, it's not personal.
Perhaps they feel bad about it, perhaps not, but once the reason why they hurt Whumpee is gone, they care for Whumpee.
Is it out of a sense of obligation? Is it because there's no one else to do it? Is it just because it won't take much energy to do it, so why not? Is the reason for the whump the same for the caretaking somehow?
So many different routes to go with this one.
◆ Multiple Whumpers setting ->
A bunch of whumpers to one, or more, whumpees. But one of them thinks the others are going too far, because they hurt whumpee for no reason, hurt them way more than necessary, hurt them in ways this Whumper doesn't agree with.
So, Enemy-to-Caretaker ends up being the one patching Whumpee up, and giving them an extra portion of meal, or a break. Maybe Enemy tells the other to back off a bit, tries to forbid them from going too far.
Or maybe they know their teammates won't listen, and that this is going way too far. So they take Whumpee away and hides them. They still think Whumpee needs to be hurt or contained for some reason, but know they are the only one in charge of it. How does caretaking go, now that the other whumpers aren't there to take it too far again?
◆ Regretful Whumper turned Caretaker ->
And if Whumper is the one that went too far? Hurting Whumpee too much during a fit of rage, perhaps. Or got blinded by the adrenaline of war/chase/overrun. Maybe doing something while blinded by the notion that Whumpee is the enemy.
Maybe the whump happened at a distance (like city bombing, or a big operation in which Whumper wasn't on the front line, or something like that), and Whumper just realizes it was too far when they see Whumpee. Driven by guilt, they try to fix what they have broken.
◆ Whumper turned Reluctant Caretaker ->
On the opposite side, what about a Whumper being forced to care for whumpee? Whumper hates Whumpee, they are enemies, but caretaking makes itself an obligation.
Maybe they need Whumpee alive for some reason, something only Whumpee knows, can do or can be traded for. Maybe it's orders coming from Whumper's superiors. Maybe one of Whumper's friends like Whumpee, and Whumper wants to keep their friends happy.
How much care are they forced to extend? Do they make caretaking painful? Do they have to be gentle and careful? Do they do the bare minimum? Or do they go out of their way to ensure Whumpee's safety and well-being, for any reason?
What an interesting dynamic it makes, someone who hates you, who wants to hurt you, being forced to keep you safe and unharmed.
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In these examples, it's all Enemy-Whumper to Caretaker, but there are other dynamics I've considered that aren't necessarily a Whumper-Enemy, but a Whumpee-Enemy turned Caretaker.
Impulsive Whumper getting too into the headspace. Getting too into the moment. They go too far and do something truly disturbing. Truly sickening. Sure, they do things that are sickening to normal people all the time, but they finally cross the line and do something that is sickening to themself.
