#recapture whump

[writingphoenix]

I've had this idea floating around my head for a little while and wanted to share.

Whumpee was rescued from Whumper’s house by Team Leader years ago. They both thought Whumper was killed. In the present day, the Team has a mission to break into a mansion and Whumpee recognizes furniture and certain items belonging to Whumper. Only Whumpee and Team Leader know of Whumpee’s past. Whumper catches them somehow and forces Whumpee back into old pet conditioning, leading the rest of the Team to put two and two together and realize that their reserved teammate has a darker history than they realized. Team Leader takes advantage of Whumpers distraction to sneak around and kill him for good (maybe Whumpee makes extra sure by slitting Whumper’s throat). Bonus points if Whumpee helps find a hidden area in Whumper’s house where other captives are being held.

[auroragehenna]

[Post/late in recovery]

It knocks on the door. Whumpee is suprised, they weren‘t expecting anyone but they think nothing on it. Putting down whatever they were doing and going to the door.

The open it and.

Stare right into a grinning Whumper‘s face.

„Whumpee…How nice to see you again…“

[montammil]

CW: Recapturing, creepy Whumper, drugging, noncon touching

...

Whumpee has been alone in the house for a few days, and slowly their paranoia has gone down. They always felt nervous being away from Caretaker for too long, but it’s been almost two months since their return, so they understand Caretaker isn’t willing to risk their job and not go on that business trip.

As Whumpee takes another sip of their water, however, they begin to feel dizzy. They feel sick at the familiar feeling, remembering how Whumper used to drug them and they’d... 

...feel exactly like this.

They try to stand and grab their phone on their bed, but only make it two steps before falling to the floor. They open their eyes to see expensive shoes striding their way, they don’t even need to look up to know who it is.

“I’m offended, in all honesty. Did you really think you could get away from me? Did you think I wouldn’t find you?”

“Please, don’t do this,” Whumpee begs. “Please.”

A smirk rises to Whumper’s lips. “Poor thing. You’ve grown so spoiled, you forgot your place. That’s okay, because you know what? I’m here now, and I’m never letting you leave me again.”

Whumpee goes deadweight when their captor picks them up, cradling them like Caretaker would. They cry and try to keep pleading, but each plead comes out as a pained moan.

As Whumper carries them out, they notice a framed picture on the wall. They stare at it, saying amusedly, “You look so happy in this picture, darling.” They snatch the picture and throw it to the ground, crushing it beneath their shoe. “Happiness isn’t a pretty look on you. I think I like these more.” They thumb away their tears.

“Pl-- pleas--”

“Shh...” Whumper drags their thumb from their cheek to their lips. “Save those pretty pleads for later. You’ll need them.”

[whumperofworlds]

Whumper, who had lost their adult child (either by death, estranged, something like that), finds Whumpee, who bears a striking similarity to their child.

So Whumper kidnaps them, and began to treat Whumpee as if they were their own child that was gone, like feeding them foods that their child loved. Whumpee, who had a life, friends, and even worried family, tried to escape, but Whumper "punishes" them by putting them in their room (their holding cell), and even outright torturing them for "misbehaving".

[den-of-whump]

Me, planning out the plot of a whump story: And after a while, they finally get rescued and go through recovery and live happily ever after

My brain: Okay, but what if one of them gets recaptured sometime after and while they do get out, it completely destroys what progress they've had in their recovery as well as creates new insecurities and traumas for them to deal with.

Me: ...

My brain: And also it gives the caretaker a new fear of losing them and guilt over letting them get captured again.

[chaotic-orphan]

Submit Willingly: a promise

Some caretaker Whump and past whumpee whump, and a grandiose whumper because I love them

*~*~*~*~*

“This was my promise to you, Whumpee,” Whumper bellowed from the town square. They stood on top of a makeshift stage that had not been there when Whumpee walked by it today, but now it had captured everyone’s attention.

Whumper had a way of doing that.

Whumpee joined the gathering crowd, hood up and head down but their eyes they kept trained on Whumper and the sadistic little smile they wore on their triumphant face.

Whumpee’s eyes went down, following Whumper’s sword to see… fuck. Whumper’s words rang through Whumpee’s ears. Their promise.

“I will take everyone who ever cared for you and make you watch as I murder them. Make examples of them. Every last one. Anyone who harboured you, who threw you a pitying glance: all dead. Then I will come for you, and you will submit willingly, and you will know there was never any point for all the bloodshed on your hands.”

Whumpee had been good. They had been solitary ever since they left Whumper. They didn’t let anyone help them, they knew Whumper’s threat was genuine. They didn’t want to risk people’s lives just so they could live.

So standing there in the crowd, watching Caretaker beaten and bloody under Whumper’s sword looking so defeated… it made bile rise in their throat.

Caretaker was the reason Whumpee could escape to begin with. Whumper’s right hand. Their best friend. They had taken pity on Whumpee and promised they would be safe. That Whumper didn’t know.

They promised they would be fine…

“I’ll give you to the count of, hmm… I don’t know— five? Caretaker, five sound good?”

“Go fuck yourself, Whumper.”

Whumper grinned, and kicked Caretaker in the face. Whumpee watched as Caretaker fell to the side, their arms tied uselessly behind their back.

Whumper continued, raising the sword as they counted: “four, three-“

“Okay fine,” Whumpee said and Whumper’s head snapped to the crowd, searching with a gleeful eagerness.

Whumper straightened, sheathing their sword and hopped off the raised platform. They smiled their creepy, happy smile that only promised pain and walked around the circle of the audience, trying to spot Whumpee.

“Mmm, I knew I’d find you here,” Whumper said conversationally. “You just wouldn’t be able to resist coming back. How well we know each other, don’t you think? It’s almost like destiny that we meet again here.”

“Let caretaker go.”

Whumper’s head whipped to the left, walking across the square to the area where Whumpee’s voice had come from. While Whumper was searching, Whumpee stepped out of the crowd beside Caretaker and started cutting at the ropes with their knife.

“Whumpee? Get out of here,” Caretaker grumbled as their hands came loose from the ropes.

“Not without you,” whumpee hissed, getting an arm under Caretaker’s. “Not again.”

A hand grabbed Whumpee’s hood, ripping it down and yanking them up to their feet by the hair, their knife clattering uselessly onto the stage and Whumpee cursed, struggling in the stranger’s grip.

Whumper turned, looking so smug. Dark brown eyes drinking in Whumpee’s struggles, who stopped when they remembered how much Whumper enjoyed it.

“I see you’ve met my new friend. I needed a replacement after you corrupted my old one against me.”

“Leave them out of this,” Whumpee demanded, voice hard. “It’s my fault I escaped, blame me. Take it out on me, but leave— just leave caretaker alone.”

Whumper laughed at Whumpee’s request. Whumpee threw an elbow back to the stranger holding them, but only served to have that arm restrained up and around their back, biting their cheek to hold back any sound escaping their lips.

Whumper stepped up to face Whumpee, dark eyes searching their face. Then their hand went to Whumpee’s hair, pulling a light brown curl from Whumpee’s short ponytail between their fingers. Their grin growing twice the size it was before.

“Oh, I never even considered how much fun long hair would be on you, and you look like you’ve lost weight. Don’t worry, I’ll take care of you.”

Whumpee shouldn’t have looked. They know they shouldn’t have looked, but seeing Caretaker get to their feet and nearly collapse pulled at their soul and they took a step forward forgetting themselves, only to be yanked back by their hair. This time they let out a hiss of pain through gritted teeth and Whumper let out a happy sigh.

“How I missed you,” Whumper said softly. It made Whumpee’s stomach churn and chest tighten because it sounded genuine. Like… like whumper actually missed them, but Whumpee knew better. Whumper was a monster in human form.

“Don’t worry, Whumpee. This time… you won’t be alone. Caretaker will be right there with you. To make sure you obey and remember your place.”

“Whumper,” Whumpee said, stepping forward again only to be pulled back again. Whumper had turned to face Caretaker who was sitting on the edge of the stage, Whumpee’s knife clutched in both of their shaking hands. “Whumper! No! Leave them alone, Whumper please. Please, please don’t touch them! I’ll beg. I’ll get on my hands and knees, I’ll go willingly. No fighting, no escape plans— whumper! WHUMPER LOOK AT ME!”

Whumper didn’t turn. They still advanced on Caretaker who swiped blindly with the knife, muttering a weak: “fuck you,” as Whumper took Caretaker’s wrist in their hands and plucked the meagre knife from it.

“Whumper— whumper, please,” Whumpee begged as Whumper motioned for a guard to grab Caretaker. They took them, and seemingly satisfied, Whumper finally turned to Whumpee, a wicked grin splitting their face.

“I think I’ll take the two for one special,” said Whumper, coming to stand in front of Whumpee again. “But don’t worry. I’ll have you begging, pleading, sobbing, on your knees and docile: all that and more, as long as I have Caretaker, I have you. Submitting willingly.”

Whumpee felt all blood drain from their face as Whumper leaned in and whispered: “and this time, I’ll never let you go.”

[raven-fucks-around-and-writes]

A shot, harboring death rang through the air.

Caretaker was dead, whumpee knew it due to the deafening silence and the heavy thud of their body hitting the ground. Caretaker had been murdered in cold blood, and it was all whumpee's fault. Even worse, they were all alone again.

"I specifically told you what would happen if they tried to save you whumpee," Whumper sighed, approaching them and nudging caretakers body out of the way with their foot. "Now that that arrogant little bitch is out of the way, we can be together again. Wouldn't that be fun?"

[dont-be-gentle-please]

What about a whumper (or an owner if it's pet whump) that starts of as pretty calm, kind, violent only when they are punishing whumpee. Compared to other/previous whumpers, whumpee likes this one.

But despite that, whumpee tries to escape, and fails. They are dragged back to whumper's house and thrown on the floor. Whumpee is punished for their disobedience for days.

After that, whumper is different. They are cold and unnecessarily cruel, they hit or cut whumpee at every chance they get.

[comfy-whumpee]

Jane 4

Whumptober 22 - vehicular manslaughter...kinda. Edit: whoops, it's vehicle accident today!

TW: death, stabbing. BBU.

Jane 1, and 2, and 3, and the interlude.

-

Florence in one hand, knife in the other, Jane was a hunter and she was ready. Maybe the one called Boo, who had been her Mistress’s first hunter, would have been able to end this without violence, but she was not them. They had failed, and if they had failed, it needed a different approach. She was not going to take no for an answer.

Stepping in from the garden had them immediately face to face with Kamala, who appeared with a nervous frown. Kamala, Jane could tell, was a Platonic. She ingratiated herself as best she could, no matter the situation. She had appointed herself the caretaker for Florence because that was what she knew. But she was not prepared for conflict.

“What’s going on?” she asked, eyes moving from Jane’s one hand to the other. Was she afraid of the knife? Did she understand? Or did she still think another pet would be harmless?

Florence spoke before Jane. “Jane is taking me to the front garden to show me weeding. You can stay.”

Their fingers wove between hers, making the handhold more mutual.

Kamala’s frown did not ease. “I’ll come with you, if that’s okay. I’d like to watch out for when Avis and Tenten get back.”

It didn’t matter. The knife would or wouldn’t be used. Jane moved to pull them onwards, but Florence resisted. “Is Roman still in his room?” they asked, probably trying to give Kamala a distraction.

“Yes. But I think he can manage. He is very shy.”

Florence nodded. Not knowing or caring, as long as he was out the way, Jane tugged them on through the hall again, and this time, Florence allowed it. Each step brought them closer.

The hallway was wide, with solid wooden floorboards and aged wallpaper around it. The doors were locked, but Avis didn’t run the kind of shelter where the rescues were locked in. In the light of the window, Jane searched for and found the key. She unlocked the door.

Florence resisted slightly as they stepped outside again. She pulled them hard enough that it didn’t matter. Kamala was still following behind them.

“Um, Jane?” she said. Her next attempt. “I think we should stay inside. It’s possible that someone took Boo, so it might not be safe.”

“The garden is outside,” Florence said. They were trying to keep her out of it. Some sentimental attachment.

“There are fences though,” Kamala replied, her eyes round with worry. “Mrs Kaur is going to be here soon. She might say it’s okay. But for now, let’s be careful.”

“Be quiet, Kamala.” Jane’s voice came out hard and cold, like Mistress Tara. “You go back inside.”

“I’m going to stay with Florence,” Kamala responded. She stared in confusion at Jane. She still didn’t understand. “And I think you should step away from them.”

Jane turned. They were still on the doorstep, and she pulled Florence behind her without letting go. The knife came between them and Kamala. “We are leaving.”

Kamala reached out one trembling hand. “Can we—”

Jane slashed the knife and she pulled back. Then she turned. “I’ll go—”

She let go of Florence to dart forwards, and pushed the knife into her back, her body weight carrying the momentum through until Kamala dropped, dark blood welling around the wound, a cry of fear punctuating the blow. Kamala didn’t make a sound; it was Florence who reacted, pulling at Jane’s hand now, trying to get past her to reach the Domestic.

Jane turned back with the knife still ready, slick with crimson. “Walk,” she hissed at Florence. It was time to get moving. The car was waiting.

“Don’t,” whimpered Kamala from the ground.

Twisted to look behind, Florence planted their feet until the bloody blade shoved against their back. They walked. Slowly, but they walked. “Kamala,” they called, voice sharp with terror. “Kamala!”

Jane dragged them on. Every time Florence faltered, bare feet digging into gravel, she pushed with the knife. Florence’s robe had lines of Kamala’s blood across its silky blue. They were fighting her at every step, but they were fights they would only lose. “You’re going back, Paris,” Jane told them through gritted teeth. She hated hurting people. She hated having to. It was a failure of her other skills. It was messy. It was hard to forget, later, when the task was done.

Florence didn’t seem to care. “Kamala,” they protested again, tearful and fraught. Any other words had left them. “Kamala, Kamala.”

They walked on. Jane trudged with each step, planting herself to leverage Florence’s resistance. She dragged. Their hand was damp and shaking, but some remnant of their training made them grip back twice as tightly. Even though Florence was scared of her, being alone was worse.

The car was just around the corner. It would be over soon. Someone would find Kamala and fix her. Florence would forget about it all in time. Jane would go back to being nameless and nothing, and put all this from her mind. Mistress might even praise her.

The narrow country lanes were empty as they walked down them, her knife still pressed against Florence’s lower back as they moved together. The silver car soon came into view, almost entirely tucked into a passing place.

Florence didn’t fight any harder. “Kamala…” they wailed softly, more panicked than before. Every passing second made them more distressed. They had watched their chaperone and protector fall. They were helpless now, for all their clever insights had got them. Jane had the knife. Jane was the hunter. She brought them up to the car.

The driver inside was slumped forwards over the wheel.

Florence froze, glazed eyes fixed on the figure. Jane changed her grip on the knife so that she could open the door. As soon as she did, the smell reached them.

The driver was dead.

[meltyphos]

the whumpee was finally rescued after several months of being in whumpers 'care', he had soon come to the conclusion that everything would go back to normal, that everything would be fine. he wouldn't have to worry about the simple things he'd been punished for by whumper, he could live without worry or fear. although, whumper has still been watching whumpee, waiting for him.

waiting for the perfect moment to snatch him back.

[auroragehenna]

AI-less Whumptober

Day 4 Hiding an injury, Betrayal, Lying

TW/CW: Recapture, betrayal, bad caretaker, sadistic caretaker, intimate whumper, sadistic whumper, angst! Words: 853 words

The seasonal bouquet filled with early spring colours instantly caught Whumpee’s eyes. Caretaker will love this they thought. She bought it and got it wrapped pretty before returning home. For a spring day it was still surprisingly cold, so Whumpee wrapped their fluffy scarf tightly around them. That also had the advantage that nobody could really see her face. That calmed down the anxiety that Whumper would find them. And as soon as they were back in the apartment they share with Caretaker they would cook up a nice meal. Whumpee stepped into the tram and drove all the way to the last stop. Once there it was only a short walk. In the tram they had seen an advertisement for a new movie coming to the cinemas soon. Caretaker would probably like it, they should tell her about it. When they unlocked the door something felt weird. Caretaker didn’t as usual call out to them when the sound of the lock rose up. “Caretaker!”, Whumpee called out to them as they slipped out of their boots and gathered them in their left hand, opening the door with their right one. “Is everything okay?!”, they called out again.

This time Caretaker answered and Whumpee’s muscles relaxed at the sound. “Yes, everything’s okay! Sorry just tired, come in!”

“Alright,”, Whumpee said now in a normal volume and closed the door behind themselves. The boots got dropped off on the shoe carpet and they entered the living room area. Caretaker was sitting on the couch but looked way too tense.

“Tough day at work?”, Whumpee asked, hiding the bouquet behind their back.

“Yeah, something like that.”, Caretaker replied.

Then another sound came from the kitchen next to them both and Whumpee’s blood froze in their veins: “Hello, Whumpee.”

That voice. That horrific voice. The voice they never wanted to hear again, they hoped so much, they promised themselves. They kept their eyes locked onto Caretaker’s, hoping for them to tell her that it was just a hallucination. But then the shape of a person entered their peripheral vision and Whumpee’s heart sank.

“It’s been so long.”

“No-no-no-no.” Whumpee’s hands cramped around the bottom of the bouquet. “How did you find me, you-you weren’t supposed to find me. I-Caretaker and me-we made sure you wouldn’t find us!”

“Caretaker? Oh honey Caretaker’s the only reason I found you.”

“No…”, Whumpee gasped. Their eyes finding Caretaker’s, hoping for some sign of a lie. But finding only coolness and apathy. Worse even, amusement. The bouquet slid out of their fingers and onto the floor. “Why…Why…?”

“Oh Whumpee it’s nothing personal, Whumper offered me good money. But then again, maybe it is. How could I just watch whumper’s hard work go down the drain? And even in the short time I spent with you, I got convinced that you break beautifully. I just had to see it for myself, and…everybody deserves a little fun. Am I right?”

Whumpee felt bile rising in their throat. Caretaker was using their own words against them. They sold her out. They-they enjoyed it.

“Oh dearest you look a little green, come here.”, Whumper said and quickly closed the distance to Whumpee, capturing them in an embrace. That’s when they saw the bouquet on the floor, a sadistic smile tugging at their lips. “Oh, Caretaker, I think Whumpee had something for you.”, they say, grab the bouquet and go to give it to Caretaker.

A mocking grin breaks through the cool cruelty on Caretaker’s face. “Aww, were those for me, Whumpee? They’re beautiful, thank you so much.”

Whumpee just wanted to cry. “Please…”

“Please what Whumpee?”, Whumper asked, “If you’re going to ask for mercy you might as well save your breath.”

“Please just…get me out of here.”

Whumper’s brows raised but they hugged Whumpee and guided their head against their shoulder. “Of course Whumpee, we just have to pack some stuff for you and then we can leave.”

So they did and Whumpee even got to take some of their comfort items, even though deep down they knew they would only be used against them. When they were done Whumper led them through the hallways of the apartment that used to be their home. Or so they thought. As they passed by the living room she couldn’t even look at Caretaker. The feeling of betrayal still burning in their throat.

“Are you not going to say goodbye to Caretaker whumpee?”, Whumper asked.

In response Whumpee just buried their head in Whumper’s jacket. Whumper grinned, guess that means no. They looked over to Caretaker in faux apologeticness. “We will be on our way then.”

“Oh by all means don’t let me hold you, have fun.”, Caretaker replied, holding up their hand in a lazy gesture.

Whumpee followed Whumper down the stairs and outside the building to their car. Right before they got into the car they saw it. The first crocus they’ve seen this year, the first dot of hope in the grey. And they see it right now, with their trust broken and their freedom slipping away once again.

Taglist: @yourlocalgaefae33, @princessofhe11

lemme know if you wanna be added

[montammil]

Whumpee gasps in shock as two hands suddenly cover their eyes, and a painstakingly familiar voice whispers in their ear...

“Guess whoooo~?”

[whump-queen]

In the blur of the rain

content:  angst, recapture, injury whump, rescue whump, caretaker whumper, blood mention, death wish, mental illness (probably), saving a life. words: 857

▪️▪️▪️

The rain was cold and welcome. Whumpee shivered as it slid down their face and neck, swirling together with coagulated blood and soaking through their thin jacket. 

The concrete below was cold and wet. The asphalt under Whumpee’s legs was covered entirely with about a half inch of water, slowly built up over the last several hours. Whumpee felt numb below the waist, but didn’t bother to move. They wouldn’t be able to lie down on the ground tonight, but knew that they would drift off in their sitting position eventually, given how exhausted they always felt. 

It was draining, you know, sitting there, bleeding. For days it must’ve been, that they remained, huddled between several large crates that lay forgotten in the narrow alleyway behind the abandoned furniture store. 

 ‘Forgotten in an alleyway’ had seemed quite appealing at the time, when Whumpee had first sunk down between the crates, after hours of limping and clutching their bleeding side.  

At least they knew no one would bother them here. At least they wouldn’t get chased down in the night again and hurt even more. And since fading into their little enclave here in the dim little alley, they hadn’t much moved at all. 

Instead, they sat, curled up, for what felt like an eternity, their chest sinking further and further back into the old bricks that lined the wall behind them, their face slowly melting and dripping down with the rain, each drop of their skin hitting the asphalt below them with a tiny splash, only to dissipate into the miniature lakes that had bloomed there with them, between the crates. 

They could finally shut down and feel nothing again, as they’d wanted to for so long, but as was forbidden by the terror and the paranoia and the pain that every force they encountered had thrust upon them.

But the rain, at least, had been kind. The rain had felt quite nice at first, the cool water washing the dirt and the dried blood off the front of their face and the front of their shirt. Yes, it must’ve been the first nice feeling Whumpee could recall in a long, long time. 

The rain was kind, though the wounds were not, and they could feel the sting of infection worsen as the days passed, as more coagulated blood seeped up through their shirt and down their torn cheekbone, as their head got heavier and their vision grew fuzzier. 

But if they were lucky, maybe they would die here. 

Maybe, they’d be allowed to die here. 

It wasn’t a bad place to die, after all. Sure, the narrow alleyway wasn’t very pretty, but Whumpee supposed that in their state, neither were they. And with their eyes finally closed, forehead resting against their curled knees, they thought the rain at least sounded nice, pattering against the wet cement.

Whumpee shivered.

Yes, this really wasn’t a bad place to die. 

▪️▪️▪️

Whumpee was stirred from their half-comatose slumber at the sound of approaching footsteps echoing wet along the puddled concrete. 

Ah, they must be imagining sounds now. It would hardly be the first time. They didn’t bother to raise their head. They hadn’t the energy to support the weight above their shoulders. Their skull felt full of lead. 

The footsteps neared where Whumpee sat, huddled between the crates, and stopped.  

“I knew I’d find you.” 

That voice. They’d been found, they supposed. 

Whumpee slowly raised their head. Their vision was fuzzy, but perhaps even the foggiest of brains were capable of hallucination. 

“God, you look like shit.”

Whumpee only stared up with fading vision, slack-lipped, expression blank, their face long since melted down into the puddle below them. 

“Jesus Christ. It’s a miracle you’re not dead yet, looking like that.”

Whumpee said nothing.

“You’ve been gone for 9 whole days, you know.”

Whumpee stared and saw less and less. They’d been found, but they couldn’t bring themselves to care. 

“How long have you… been sitting here?” Whumper asked, already learning they would not be getting an answer. 

“You know, I didn’t think you’d have lasted this long out here on your own, I honestly thought I’d be bringing back a corpse tonight.” Whumper paused, “Lucky for me, it seems you’re only most of the way there.” 

Whumper bent down to where Whumpee sat, huddled, soaked and bleeding, shaking from the fever and shivering from the cold. 

Whumper brushed a wet lock of hair out of Whumpee’s injured face, “Don’t worry little one, I’ll make you all better, and then you’ll have learned never to try to escape me ever again.” 

Whumper reached their arms beneath Whumpee’s shivering body and lifted them into a bridal carry. Whumper’s skin was warm. Whumpee had nearly forgotten what it felt like to feel warm. They reached up and clung to Whumper’s sleeve, savoring, cherishing the way it brought feeling to their numb fingers. 

“Come on now little thing, let’s get you home.” 

Pressing a kiss to their wet forehead, they turned from that little enclave between the crates, and walked off into the night. 

▪️▪️▪️

More like this

[whumperofworlds]

So say you knew a whumper and their whumpee very well. If you were friends with the whumper, would you capture their whumpee for them, or would you let them recapture their own whumpee?

Ooooh, that's a good question! I'd say I help recapture whumpee for whumper! 😈 I mean, if it's what Whumper wants, it's something they'll get, because I'm a good friend like that ❤️

[whumpberry-cookie]

Plot prompt

(Cv: trauma, panick attack, betrayal)

Heroes have to cooperate with a Villain (Whumper) to fight the Supervillain.

One day Whumpee walks in the common room and sees their old Whumper casually sitting in an armchair.

"Don't worry, hun. I'm not here for you this time" Whumper chuckes "But I have to admit, I liked you bloody more"

-------------------

Will Whumpee run out of the room in absolute terror?

Will Whumpee have a complete breakdown and panic attack afterwards?

Will Whumpee completly lose trust in Caretaker after finding out it was him who invited Whumper?

Will Whumpee's trust issues deepen to the point they won't be able to trust anyone again?

[whumpshaped]

forever thinking about recapture

whumpee getting grabbed on their way home and dragged into a car thats hauntingly familiar

whumpee getting chloroformed again while a familiar voice is telling them to relax

or alternatively "did you really think i'd let you run?"

whumpee realising their home has been broken into and finding a threatening message somewhere. even just a found you scribbled on the wall

whumpee attacked while they're fumbling with the key to get inside, then promptly shoved inside the apartment and being tied up in their own bedroom

whumpee approached in a public setting, frozen in fear and unable to alert anyone because they know whumper has the ability to cause a bloodbath and they don't want to get innocent civilians involved

whumpee approached in a public setting and whumper showing them a photo of a tied up caretaker in a room that has served as whumpee's prison for months. "how about a trade?"

whumpee waking up in a familiar cell, having panic attack after panic attack, sobbing and screaming their throat raw because this can't be happening again

whumpee going docile and quiet as soon as they realise what's happening, their conditioning kicking in to protect them

"i'm so glad you still remember me"

"you haven't forgotten your manners, have you?"

"i heard you went to therapy, hm? i hope they haven't stuffed your head full of too many lies"

whumper bringing out their most common torture instrument. "for old times' sake"

caretaker realising that whumpee didn't send them their daily text, the one they agreed on specifically so they'd know whumpee was okay

whumpee not picking up the phone for the third time

whumper picking up whumpee's phone. "oh, thank goodness whumpee, i thought-" "i'm awfully sorry, they're a bit preoccupied at the moment." caretaker can hear whumpee's muffled cries and screams in the background

caretaker arriving home and finding the apartment ransacked and empty

caretaker finding a letter from whumper. "thanks for watching them while i was dealing with the police <3"

caretaker finding a stack of photos of whumpee being subdued in their own apartment