#whumpshots

Trope of the day: “How’d I get to this place?”

_

A groan escapes their lips when Whumpee finally manages to open their eyes. Their lids feel heavy, almost as if they are glued to the eyes.

Painless.

Why don’t they feel pain?

Their heartbeat quickens as they fight against the tiredness. Against their body that is still begging for rest. Whumpee grunts when they try to move, but a hand pushes them back.

Back on the mattress.

Mattress … How long since they have had the luxury of one of these?

“How’d I get to this place?”, Whumpee manages to croak, tongue heavy and mouth dry. Their sight is blurred, lids falling close again.

The voice that answers is weirdly familiar, weirdly calming. Although they can’t even decipher what they are saying.

Trope of the day: resignation

_

The day Whumpee stopped begging should have been enough. It should have been enough for Whumper to realise that something is wrong.

But they thought that maybe they were just too scared and broken to beg, that it was something else that made them shut up.

Now they just look into empty eyes, a tired face that is so different from what they used to see. Whumpee does what Whumper tells them to, never speaking, never trembling.

They got used to it.

Whumpee has accepted that this won’t end with their begging. Their resignation makes Whumper furious, although they don’t let it out on Whumpee. Not yet.

It’s their empty eyes that haunt them in their sleep.

Trope of the day: forced reveal

_

Whumpee knows that they are not good at hiding it. Their body aches and hurts with every movement, but they still try. They still try and fool the others around them.

Caretaker hasn't noticed yet, thank the gods. Otherwise they'd put down their more important work and try to 'fix' Whumpee, try to help them.

But they have other things to do. More important things than to help Whumpee heal because they were dumb enough to get injured.

The others, however, have noticed. They shoot Whumpee glances, try to coax them into revealing what is going on with them. Whumpee ignores them, assuring them that everything is fine.

Until one day, when they stumble and hold onto Caretaker for dear life. Their eyes meet and Whumpee tries telling them that they are fine, but the others have had enough.

A hand pulls up Whumpee's shirt, revealing dark bruises and a nasty injury they hastily bandaged themselves.

Trope of the day: “Sold my soul, broke my bones.”

_

“We … we had a funeral for you,” Caretaker says as they look at Whumpee, who came here, scarred and limping. But alive. “A funeral with an empty casket.”

“I was alive,” Whumpee spits, bitterness dripping from their voice. “You left me to die in a ditch. Why didn’t you come back?”

It’s a question Caretaker has asked themselves since that day. A question without an answer. They open their mouth, but Whumpee cuts them off.

“I sold my soul, broke my bones for you all for years. And you thanked me with an empty casket. Your regret is not enough to pay for what I have been through.” Whumpee gets up, wincing in pain. They grab their cane and walk towards the door. “Keep that casket buried, you won’t see me again.”

Trope of the day: touch

_

“Here, it’s okay,” Caretaker says and presents their empty hands to Whumpee, making sure the other calms down. They haven’t been able to look at their wounds since they have been brought here, and while Caretaker wants to give them space, they know that they need urgent treatment.

But Whumpee still shrinks away, still tries to get as much distance between the two of them as possible.

Caretaker sighs, but they sit down on the floor with them, not wanting to hover above the other too much. They reach out their hand, giving Whumpee a soft smile and hopefully signalising that they are patient with them.

It takes the other a long moment before they reach out as well, cold fingers softly touching Caretaker’s for a brief second. Whumpee jumps like they have been electrified.

Trope of the day: “Tell me that you’re okay, and I’m fine”

_

Whumpee’s vision is still blurred when they blink their eyes open, but Caretaker’s worried face is the first thing they can make out. Their brows are furrowed with concern, cheeks wet with tears. Mouth and throat dry, Whumpee tries clearing their throat and croak out a question—are you okay?

But nothing leaves their bloodied lips.

They feel their hand twitch, fingers curling around Caretaker’s sleeve. They look down, finally realising that Whumpee is awake, although only barely. “’re you ‘kay?”, they slur, words slow and tongue heavy.

Caretaker breathes out shakily and takes Whumpee’s weak hand in theirs. “Tell me that you are okay, and I’m fine,” they mutter, Whumpee gathering all their strength to nod their head. If it helps Caretaker calm down, they will do anything.

Trope of the day: childhood trauma

_

Whumpee involuntarily flinches when Caretaker accidentally closes the door with more force than intended - loud 'thud' and a quick hushed "Whoops" is heard as they move through the house.

And that is all.

Still, Whumpee is tensed up and their heartbeat far too fast against their chest. Loud doors, footsteps... even the way someone says "Hi" makes Whumpee feel like they did something wrong. That someone will walk up and scream at them.

Or worse.

The door to the kitchen opens and Whumpee jumps when Caretaker comes in, instinctively hiding that they were about to make themselves something to eat. Caretaker just smiles at them, walking to the fridge.

"Have you seen the cheese?," they ask, rummaging through the fridge as Whumpee feels their mouth run dry.

"Sorry, I uh... It's here," they mutter, moving to give Caretaker the package they hid behind themselves, hoping the other cannot see the sandwich they were about to make. They didn't ask, they were just hungry. Now they fucked up, they always fuck up...

"Thanks, kid," Caretaker just says with a smile and gets a plate. "Do you want to stay there or eat your sandwich?" Raising their brows they look at Whumpee, who cannot stop themselves from probably looking really dumbfounded.

Oh.

Trope of the day: “It’ll be for nothing.”

_

Whumper is too close to Whumpee's ear. Their hot breath tickles their cold skin, making them shudder with disgust and fear.

“You do not need to keep secrets from me. Tell me what I want to know, and I might let you live,” they coo, smiling like they just made them an irresistable offer.

Secrets. Whumpee has none, they just have vital information. Information that could get the others killed. So they shake their head, anticipating the next hit, cut or burn.

Whatever Whumper has up their sleeve next.

But the other just grabs them by their jaw and forces them to look at them. “I will make your life a living hell if you don't tell me. I will kill you with the most unbearable pain, and it’ll be for nothing. You will die for nothing.”