whump-until-wretched

[whump-until-wretched]

thinking about Caretaker taking a recovering Whumpee on an outing, something that Whumpee used to really enjoy. At first Whumpee is a bit nervous being out and about but they begin to loosen up and get really into whatever they’re doing, forgetting about their worries for a while. And Caretaker just watches them with the biggest smile on their face, so happy that they’re happy <3

[whump-until-wretched]

Anon who sent the prompt for your 30th Drabble here,

Since you asked, I’d be delighted if you can expand it for sth longer. Absolutely no pressure!

Caretaker pressed his forehead against the steering wheel. Maybe he could take a nap there. Just for fifteen minutes.

He had barely slept on the night before.

He had barely slept for weeks.

Ironic, considering how sleep was all he could think of from the moment he got up in the morning.

But his other shift at the other bakery would start in a couple hours, and he needed to stop at home before that. Whumpee probably hadn't eaten much all day. Caretaker hadn't had the chance to call him on his break as he hadn't had one - it had been too busy, and one of the employees had been ill, leaving Caretaker only with a brand new hire and couldn't leave her alone.

Caretaker drove home abusing his eardrums with blasting music nearly at full volume in an attempt to keep himself awake. His head was pounding, his shoulders were stiff and sore, but he forced himself to jam to the music to keep himself alert while sipping from the can of warm energy drink he'd forgotten half-empty in the car in the morning.

The bag of groceries was heavy in his arms as he pulled the front door open.

"Hey," he called out, setting the bad on the floor to hang his outdoor clothes. He didn't hear an answer, but Whumpee's service dog Luck rushed over to greet him. Caretaker smiled, genuinely for the first time all day.

"Hi, sweetie. Where's Whumpee, huh? Is he okay? He must be, I know you take very good care of him." Caretaker kneeled to scratch her ears and leaned his forehead against hers. If only he could take a nap there. Just for ten minutes.

Whumpee was in their bedroom, TV playing one of their favourite musicals with no volume. He had an unfinished crochet project on his lap, right hand still closed around the hook, but his eyes were closed, and he was breathing deeply. Caretaker stalled in the doorway, taking in the endearing sight. Then he quietly sneaked in, grabbing Whumpee's empty water bottle and breakfast plate from the bedside table.

He filled the bottle and washed the plate while heating some soup from a can in the microwave. He glanced at the clock. He still had a little over an hour before his next shift. He'd make it in time if he left in 45.

There was still so much to do in those 45 minutes. He should take Luck for a walk, he might need to help Whumpee use the bathroom, depending on he was feeling. He probably should eat something himself. The pounding ache in his head was getting worse, and Caretaker rubbed his forehead with his fingers. He really didn't want to leave the house again.

During the past weeks, he had taken about five and a half days off, most of them from the same place. His boss wasn't the understanding sort, and had threatened him with dismissal after the second time. It didn't matter what reason Caretaker gave him; Whumpee needing to go to ER, Caretaker developing a raging fever overnight. He didn't know how much more he could push it. He needed this job - they needed the money. Although the pay wasn't great, this job's hours worked with his other jobs. He didn't know how easily he could find a new one that would fit his schedule.

Even if he was fired the workload would not get any lighter. He often felt deep guilt about not being able to be there for Whumpee as much as he needed, as much as he deserved - apart from early mornings and late nights, it was just these moments between his shifts. Any time he wasn't at work he would spend cleaning, or cooking, or taking care of Whumpee. But it still didn't feel like enough. And this part he didn't mind. He loved it, actually. Being able to be there for someone he cared about so much. He wouldn't want to do anything less for him.

But dear God, was he tired.

The headache was spreading down his jaw and neck now. Caretaker reluctantly took a painkiller, even though using them for himself felt like a waste - Whumpee needed them way more than him - but he needed to get through the day, and he couldn't have himself faint while kneading dough. He'd make sure this was an exception.

Caretaker carried Whumpee his lunch, setting it on the bedside table. He had poured it in a thermal bowl so it would stay warm for whenever Whumpee would feel up to eating. He sat on the edge of the bed and caressed Whumpee's hair. He'd have to wake him up at some point before leaving, just to check on him, even though the thought of having to pull Whumpee from this peaceful-looking sleep felt immensely cruel. Or maybe it was just his own mind dreaming about falling into a week-long uninterrupted hibernation.

The other side of the bed was still unmade after Caretaker had left in a rush in the morning, and never before looked so inviting. The room was well conditioned, but Whumpee was radiating warmth. Caretaker checked the time again.

Maybe he could lie down just for a moment. Only rest his eyes. His body, his mind.

He walked around the bed and lay down on the mattress. Luck had followed him in the room, now jumped on the bed and settled in her usual spot, snugly between their legs. Caretaker relaxed against the softness, the warmth, taking in a long, deep breath.

If only he could sleep… if only for five…

"Caretaker?" Whumpee's confused voice made Caretaker jolt awake. He blinked, for a second unsure of where he was or what was going on. His eyes focused on Whumpee's face hovering above his, brows furrowed. "Are you okay?"

"Huh?"

"Shouldn't you be at work?"

"What?"

Caretaker turned to look at the clock on the wall, staring at it for five full seconds before understanding what the time was. His shift had started half an hour ago. He jumped up so fast he tripped over his feet and crashed on the floor, managing to break the fall with his arms before hitting his head.

He could hear Whumpee yell and trying to scramble out of the bed to help, so despite having the air knocked out of his lungs, he rose on his feet and rushed to the wardrobe.

"I'm fine," Caretaker said. "I'm fine, I'll go now. I just fell asleep. I- fuck, I forgot to take Luck outside, I'll do that and -"

"You don't look fine," Whumpee said quietly, watching Caretaker change into the bakery's uniform. "Should you just call in sick again?"

"I can't do that, Whumpee."

"But I really don't think you should go…"

"I have to go," Caretaker said impatiently. "There are bills to pay. Medicine and food and … and fucking laundry detergent and all that crap people unfortunately have to pay for to live. We've already lost too much income for the previous times I called in sick, and I can't afford to do that anymore! We can't!"

Whumpee bit his lip, looking down. He reached his arm to pet Luck's head. He looked so small and sad there, and Caretaker wanted to punch himself. Why'd he snapped like that at him? What was wrong with him? Whumpee knew all this, and he loved Caretaker just as much as Caretaker loved him. He was just worried. He just wanted the best for Caretaker, too.

"You're pushing yourself too hard," Whumpee said after a moment of silence. "You're not going to make us any money if you keep going on like this. Not if you just push and push until you can't anymore. And I think you already have. This here isn't you."

Caretaker looked at his feet, tears finally forcing their way out and running down his cheeks. He heard his phone vibrate on the edge of the bed. Sniffling, he went to pick it up. His boss was calling.

"He's going to fire me," Caretaker whispered, finger hovering over the green button.

"Then let him," Whumpee said. He patted the bed, inviting Caretaker to sit next to him. "We're going to be okay."

Caretaker answered, and after a minute, hung up. He pulled his knees to his chest, curling next to Whumpee as the latter wrapped his arms around him, and let the tears fall once again.

The original drabble here!

[whump-until-wretched]

Caretaker being shaken awake by a team member and groaning, “Come on, man, it’s not even light out,” pulling the sheets over their face.

“Caretaker - it’s Whumpee.”

And just like that, Caretaker is awake and on their feet in a matter of seconds.

[whump-until-wretched]

Whumpee is able to provide a little too much information about Whumper during team meetings. Details that seem too personal to be dug out of research alone... the kind one would only know if they knew Whumper closely.

Team begin to suspect Whumpee is a traitor, a double agent. They stop listening to Whumpee's advice and suggestions during meetings because they think Whumpee is trying to trick them into one of Whumper's traps.

Now imagine the look on the Team's faces when they're captured because they didn't take the precautions Whumpee told them to.

Imagine the look on their faces when Whumper walks past all of them and goes straight to Whumpee because "It's so good to have you back, darling. I've missed you."

And Whumpee flinches.

[whump-until-wretched]

So so many of my ocs' biggest fear would be to lose their most beloved person and their main source of motivation is to love and protect them and. Then I play the role of the loved one in my daydreams and. Why is the only way I can even pretend to feel loved and cared for is in my imagnation by imaginary people of my own creation.

[whump-until-wretched]

i want to talk about my ocs but im literally this image. i got nothing

[whump-until-wretched]

I love when they mistake the gentlest character for the most terrible villain and unnecessarily extreme force is used to imprison them.

They are locked away with every precaution; dozens of guards, restraints of every sort… They are treated as uncommonly dangerous with maximum security when in reality, they could never harm a soul.

But of course, nobody asked them that…

[whump-until-wretched]

Which oc of yours isn't actually immortal but somehow just... doesn't die... even though they really should have a looong time ago

[whump-until-wretched]

me: i wanna talk about my ocs

someone: ok tell me about your ocs

me, suddenly convinced that every single thing about my ocs is stupid and cringy and probably offensive: i. have them

[whump-until-wretched]

whumpee who sees it as an absolute point of pride to hold onto their kindness and compassion after experiencing the whump. the trauma may have changed a lot about them, but their capacity to be good to others is something they cling to that separates them from whumper

[whump-until-wretched]

Okay listen. Whumpee is hurt and Caretaker is trying to help them to hold on, so they make desperate yet simple promises (about things that Whumpee likes or cares about):

"I'll get you more strawberry ice cream you could ever dream of when we get home, yeah? So you have to get home with me."

"We'll go anywhere in the world, Whumpee. You name a place and I'll take you there."

"Can you sing to me?" -- "I'll sing to you every day for the rest of my life. I need you to be here for that. Stay with me..."

[whump-until-wretched]

“Caretaker - Caretaker! Help me! Please! CARETAKER!”

And Caretaker is running, running as fast as they can, but their legs feel like jelly, barely moving. Desperation courses through their veins as they struggle towards Whumpee, who is held tight in Whumper’s hideous grasp.

But just as Caretaker is finally about to reach them, the pair vanish.

“W-what -?”

“Caretaker! HELP ME!”

Caretaker wheels around and sees them again - Whumper holding tightly onto Whumpee, blooding now streaming down the latter’s face.

“Whumpee! I’m coming!”

And it’s like running through quicksand, but every cell in their body screams to reach Whumpee, to get them out of Whumper’s grip, away from that horrible, evil smirk before -

CRACK.

Whumpee crumples to the ground, head and neck twisted at an impossible angle. Caretaker falls to their knees, a choked noise escaping their throat.

“You were too late,” Whumper grins, “again.”

The strangled noise begins again, but this time it doesn’t die, and Caretaker’s ears are filled with the sound of their own scream.

“NOOOOOO!”

Caretaker jolts up straight in bed, chest heaving. Their eyes frantically search the room for Whumpee and when they don’t find what they’re looking for, Caretaker is immediately on their feet. They burst through their bedroom door, all but ricocheting down the hallway, until -

“Caretaker!”

The pair practically smack into each other, and Caretaker clutches onto Whumpee like a lifeline.

“Whumpee - thank God, I…”

“I heard you scream - did you have the dream again?” Whumpee’s voice is muffled against Caretaker’s chest.

“I thought - I thought you were -“

“I know. It’s okay, Caretaker. I’m with you.”

But Caretaker is still trembling, and Whumpee leans back and takes their face in their hands to see them pale as a ghost.

“Hey.” Whumpee grabs Caretaker’s hand and holds it against their chest so Caretaker can feel their heartbeat. “Feel. I’m here. They don’t have me.”

And Caretaker does feel it. Steady. Consistent. Strong.

“I’m okay. We’re okay.”

[whump-until-wretched]

I love whumpees that are whumpees despite nothing happening to them. No injury, no enemy, no obvious trauma. Just their body and/or mind betraying them for the hell of it.

Sometimes what usually is the aftermath of whump is the whump itself, and I'd like to see more of that. Especially with whumpees that have mental illness just because they're mentally ill. There doesn't always need to be trauma to cause them, sometimes it just happens.

Sometimes whumpee's biggest demon is themself.

[whump-until-wretched]

I open my wallet and out cascades a comically long accordion of pictures of my OCs

[whump-until-wretched]

"Not a fucking sound."

Whumpee trembled, feeling the tip of Whumper's knife at their back. With their arms bound to their side and hands turned to stumps by duct tape, there was nothing they could do to resist that or the hand that smothered their mouth. But Caretaker... Caretaker was on the other side of the wall. So close.

They couldn't let this opportunity go to waste. They had to be brave.

Whumpee squeezed their eyes shut. One. Two. Three.

They bit down on Whumper's hand as hard as they could. Whumper gasped, and Whumpee used that opportunity to push themself away from their captor.

"CARETAKER!" they screamed. "I'M HERE! HELP!"

"You fucking bitch!" Whumper shouted, but Whumpee was already running.

The door opened, light streaming in, and there, like an angel, stood Caretaker.

"Whumpee-"

Something sailed past Whumpee's head. They ducked, but only too late did they realize that they weren't the intended target.

The knife struck Caretaker right in between the eyes. A perfect throw.

Whumpee barely even registered what was happening. Tears streamed down their face as Whumper pinned them down on the ground, hard.

"You're going to pay for that," they growled. "You're going to pay dearly."

[whump-until-wretched]

✧ Reminder that I’m open to receiving prompts for my 100 word drabbles! ✧

Getting a few recently has been fun and really helpful. (I’ve assumed that’s what the asks have been for because it’s been the only context I’ve directly asked for asks recently)

I’m also open to writing stuff outside the drabble project, then I wouldn’t have to try to fit everything into a tiny thing. But I can’t guarantee quality or even getting around writing them but I will always try!! Unless I happen to be uncomfortable with writing it. If you send a request and if it matters to you, specify if you want a 100 word or a little longer one! Otherwise I decide and it'll likely be a tiny one :)

You can find the whole drabble collection under the first tag!

[whump-until-wretched]

"Why- why am I covered in blood?!"

"I was hoping you would tell me that."