The caretaker knew hurting the whumper wouldn’t fix anything, not the months of torture the whumpee had gone through, and not the permanent scars the whumper had left. Revenge had driven them to this- to hurting the whumper the same way their friend had been hurt, and nobody stopped them.

The whumpee waited and waited for what felt like lifetimes, they waited for rescue or any sign that they were still cared for. Desperation festered and fears grew- the whumpee hadn’t made any of their friends angry before the whumper kidnapped them, and they didn’t think they’d done anything wrong, so why was nobody looking, why hadn’t they been rescued yet?

I’ve noticed that you always post around 11 not a bad thing it’s actually something I look forward too

:D!! It was kind of an unintentional switch, I know my old schedule was 10 AM, and I legit don’t remember how I pulled that off, then my sleep schedule got all messed up. I’m happy you like it lol, I always wondered if people noticed-

Riot Kings, page 179

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The whumpee stayed close to the caretaker at all times, afraid of being found by the whumper if they dared to be alone. The whumpee worried about looking clingy, but being some made them anxious and jumpy- they couldn’t risk it, they were terrified of the whumper.

The whumpee’s dreams were the only things filled with comfort anymore, with the memories of their friends and the life they used to had. The whumpee would fall asleep as soon as they could after being tortured, just so they can feel safe in their dreams.

The whumper hadn’t meant to take things so far, they just wanted to get the whumpee to leave them alone, but the whumpee’s pain made them so happy, and they didn’t feel bad about the things they did- but they knew they should.

The whumpee had admired the whumper for so long, seeing their cruelty as assertiveness and aggression as leadership- it wasn’t until they were at the receiving end of the torture that they realized how twisted their perception of the whumper was.

The whumpee didn’t have anyone to help or comfort them, and the whumper had made sure of it. The whumpee would be left alone, shivering while laying on their own blood, begging for anyone to come in and just comfort them, for someone to warm them in their ice cold cell.

The whumpee didn’t have anything in their cell, not a window, not a blanket, it was just a concrete box to keep them inside. The whumpee would pace for hours, at one point looking forwards to the whumper’s visits just for a chance to finally leave their prison.

The whumpee had been specially trained to be the whumper’s attack dog- someone who wouldn’t hesitate to kill in the name of the whumper. While the whumper knew the whumpee’s loyalty was forced upon them, they still liked to reward them, just to balance out the constant punishment.

The whumpee was the whumper’s prized possession, one that was constantly caged and on display in their home. The whumpee hated the constant attention, but they knew lashing out at the whumper’s guest would only end up with them tortured, so they could only close their eyes and endure the stares.

The whumpee lied to themselves, telling themselves every night that rescue would come any day now, that they would be okay, and maybe that the whumper would realize the error of their ways. They couldn’t keep up their life forever though, and they begin to lose hope as every day passes without signs of things getting better.

It had taken a while, but the caretaker had finally managed to find the whumper, and they don’t care how hurt they get- and they don’t care how immoral it is, they will hurt the whumper as much as the whumper hurt their friend. The whumpee didnt need to find out, the caretaker just wanted payback for what happened.

The whumper had never hurt anyone before- and they likely wouldn’t have ever done so if it wasn’t for the fact that the whumpee had been so horrible. Constant button pushing and mocking finally made the whumper snap, and they realized how cathartic it was to make the whumpee beg for mercy.

Riot Kings, page 178

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There were no search parties, no worried people looking for the whumpee- and the whumper didn’t know what to think about it all. The whumper had been hesitant to hurt the whumpee in the first place- it was their job, but it wasn’t a job they enjoyed. Slowly but surely, the whumper began to care for the whumpee, giving them more food, giving them warm blankets- they didn’t want to hurt someone that had been so hurt already.