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This is a writing I love from my old blog, please enjoy :)

"Whumpee! Whumpee oh thank god, are you ok?!"

The caretaker's heart broke as they saw the whumpee flinch at their voice, they looked up, their eyes stayed locked on the doorway even as the caretaker rushed to the whumpee's side, pulling them into a gentle hug.

The whumpee melted in the caretaker's embrace, "I... c-caretaker please take it off I c-can't, please," the whumpee's voice shook.

"What do you..." the caretaker looked for any restraints, but couldn't see what the whumpee was talking about, "What do you want me to take off?"

The whumpee looked panicked, their eyes were vacant, "please I can't, I can't s-see please take it off," tears began to drip down the whumpee's face.

The caretaker's eyes widened, their throat felt tight.

The whumpee wasn't wearing a blindfold.

"Whumpee, take a breath ok, it's all going to be ok."

"Please, please I- I want to see you, I want to k-know it's over- please," the whumpee took in hitched gasps between words.

"Shushhh, it's ok, I know," the caretaker pulled the whumpee back into their arms, cradling their head against their shoulder, "I'm here, even if you can't see me, I'm here. It's over."

"Please take it off," the whumpee's voice was a weak whisper.

"Whumpee, I- I'm so sorry-"

"please."

"You're," the caretaker hesitated, "whumpee there's nothing over your eyes, nothing to take off. I- I'm so sorry."

A sob escaped the whumpee's lips, "I c-can't caretaker, please. Please I can't see."

The caretaker's heart felt like it would break in half, "I know, I know I'm so sorry,"

"I- I can't," the whumpee pulled back, freeing their hands to rub at their eyes, "I can't- no, no no, please! Please they, they can't take another thing, I- I want to see you, please," the whumpee let out another broken sob.

"Come here, don't," the caretaker gently pushed the whumpee's hands away from their face, "you'll hurt yourself."

The whumpee let their hands be moved, tears streaming down their face.

"p-please."

There was nothing the caretaker could do.

I've accepted the guilty pleasure of cliche as my one true lord and savior by now

''there's only one bed.''

''i'll bandage you up.''

''who did this to you?''

''i didn't know where else to go.''

''can you be my date to the wedding?''

''you're my best friend. i've always loved you.''

''shut up.'' ''make me.''

''i would never fall for you.''

''then why did you do it?'' ''BECAUSE I LOVE YOU''

''oh. oh.''

Shove your whumpee against the wall with whumpers arm pressed against their neck. Making Whumpee gasp quietly, fear filling their face as their eyes quickly flutter up to meet Whumper’s.

sci-fi corporal punishment: stasis

- victim is given cuffs or a collar that effectively freezes them in place. They still feel the passage of time, and will still feel anything that happens to them

- victim is then placed in a public location (city square, atrium in a shopping area, central office, etc) and left in the hands of passersby

- their crimes are holographically projected from the cuffs/collar to alert everyone of the severity. Despite this, even petty crimes are often met with great force from passing strangers

- it is legal to shield victims. Kind strangers or loved ones may stand sentry around them, but must be wary of using force, lest they end up in the same position

- sentences cap out at 48 hours, but multiple sentences may be consecutively served with a day's break in between

- more severe offenses sometimes see the victim stasified in an isolated location, which is then broadcast to the public. This is meant to encourage anyone who was hurt by the victim to seek retribution away from the public eye, but it often leads to more extreme injuries on the victim, dealt by strangers who no longer fear the shame of a crowd

- anonymous mercenary groups can be hired to protect a victim---or hurt them

- the victim's eyes are always closed before stasis. This is to preserve their sight and reduce damage. It also means they never see what's coming.

I love a well informed whumper. I love watching that scene where we get to see the whumper's analysis of the good team and how they decide which members pose the biggest threats. I love seeing the whumper doing their homework, building a file on each of them, picking them and their skill sets and weaknesses apart to know who to target

Whumpee locked in a deep freezer as a punishment.

The team watching their weakest and youngest be tortured by whumper, whumpee’s screams echoing against the walls as they beg for them to stop.

Vs

The team watching their stoic leader be tortured by whumper, swallowing down their pain with grunts and gasps, which only angers whumper further.

sometimes the best writing advice is "just let it be bad." revolutionary. terrifying. but it works.

LULLABY 3/3

Again, mention/implication of SA. Nothing graphic, as usual. Last episode! Hope you like it.

The day he was brought in, he made the whole block go silent for a minute. A murderer– that was what he was in for. Which he quietly but sternly denied every time someone questioned him. It was hard to believe him though, as he looked built to kill. Six feet tall, at least, a mountain of muscle, and a look that silenced even the worst convicts. He never needed to use his fists to gain respect from all. And fear.

For Lull, it was the latter. A dull, resigned fear. It was just another shoe in his ribs, another hand fisting his hair, another voice laughing at him.

His name was Garrett. Not that it mattered. But the name stuck with the dreamwalker, after one particular day.

Lull was limping back from to the cellblock, his hair damp from the shower. Cold water, as always, since he had found that inmates would leave him alone if he was late enough. The water left was freezing, but the situation was still much better than the alternative. He was struggling to keep his eyes open, desperately staggering forward. He had to reach his bunk before the lockdown bell, or else the guards would kill him. Not literally, that would be too merciful. But he could feel his muscles turning to cotton, his head pounding with the overwhelming need to sleep. Before he knew it, he was falling.

Hands grabbed his shoulders, his head hitting a soft surface instead of the floor. Lull flinched away, his movements sluggish, but someone held him back. He froze, meeting the other man's eyes, and immediately abandoned the fight. It was that new inmate, Garrett, towering three feet over him.

Lull sagged in his grip, going limp in anticipation. He knew how to be away, when it would happen. Hurt less this way.

But this time, the man held him up instead of letting him crumple. The former villain risked an eye contact, and met a frowning face. Bad. Bad. It was always worse when they were in a bad mood.

"Hey. You can't stand or what ?"

Lull's face did something complicated, before settling on confusion. What ? His knees were weak, but he managed to stay on his feet. Garrett's hands were still tight on his arms.

"Are you gonna collapse again? Coz the late shift guards are gonna kill you if you don't make it to the block."

As if he didn't already knew that. Still trying to catch his breath, and to keep his eyes from closing, he reluctantly accepted Garrett's help, leaning on his shoulder for balance. The corridor seemed to be moving, even though he was the one swaying unsteadily on his feet. It was only after a few steps, when the bigger man's hands stayed where they were supposed to be, that Lull started to relax. For some reason, it seemed that the other inmate was genuinely helping. However, the dreamwalker knew better than to hope. Eventually, everything always had a price.

With Garrett's help, he stumbled and collapsed on his bunk bed. The other man didn't comment, taking a few steps away, toward his own cell. Through the bars, Lull could see a group of familiar faces, hovering nearby. Their gazes were aimed right at him, their smiles sharp. Full of unwanted promises. But he was already slipping, unable to resist the tug of sleep. Once again, he would be helpless. Once again, he would wake up covered in bruises. Humiliated, broken.

The mattress bent under someone else's weight. Garrett, still there. He had noticed the other inmates too.

"Hope you don't mind, I think I'll sit here for a little while. The mattress is comfortable."

It took a few seconds for the words to register in Lull's sleep deprived brain. But when it did, his eyes widened slightly in surprise –and wariness. But in his state, there wasn't much he could do but pray, and he quickly fell into oblivion.

It was his first peaceful night in months.

When he woke up, he was alone. As usual, he checked himself up, his surprise growing. No new bruises, no sore points or body aches. Garrett had... Had actually protected him. But why ?

Throughout the day, Lull noticed that Garrett was watching him. Not the creepy kind, when someone would follow him until he couldn't stay awake anymore. Just... Watching. The others must've noticed as well, since no one made a move to approach him. That man was not someone you'd want to cross.

Lull fell asleep during unlock time, in the courtyard. One second he was awake, swaying on his feet, and the second, he was collapsing to the concrete floor. Before anyone could take advantage of it, Garrett sat down on the bench nearby. The others took the hint. Although a lot of them glared at him, muttering curses. Hovering. Waiting. They wouldn't let go of their favourite toy so easily.

It happened during work detail; Lull was sorting clothes for laundry, and Garrett was working in the workshop. Too far. Three men pushed him in a corner. They didn't bother with gentleness. When they finally left, Lull was barely conscious, his breathing hoarse and painful from the new bruises etched on his chest. He was surprised to find that's he was crying. He couldn't feel anything, numb to the world, but tears ran down his face nonetheless. His body remembered what his mind refused to.

The guards found him like this, and didn't bother with questions. They hauled him up, his legs too weak to hold him. And when they dropped him on the floor of his cell, Garrett was there. Waiting. His arms were crossed and his expression blank, but Lull could see the anger in his eyes. As soon as they were alone, he approached, and let out a sigh.

"How did you survive that long in here ?"

Lull eyed him warily, pushing himself up on shaky hands. His vision was going in and out, as he struggled to keep his eyes open.

"Why did you help me? What do you want from me ?"

"Nothing."

The former villain didn't believe him. But it didn't mattered. What did were the hands pulling him up with surprising gentleness, and taking him to the bunk bed. It was the last thing he felt before passing out cold.

Things changed quietly. None of them was very talkative, and it was often in silence that Lull would fall asleep without fear. Garrett didn't need any warning to catch him before the fall. At night, they'd huddle together. Then, they could speak. Just a few words, whispered.

"I'm innocent. Never killed that guy."

Lull had sleepily hummed, and nodded.

"I know."

It was all they needed. And if the former villain sometimes flinched away from his touch, Garrett never commented on it.

They knew their relationship was fragile, and could shatter at any moment. But for the moment, they were together. And that was the closest thing to happiness Lull had ever experienced. He would never dream again, but maybe he could live.

Taglist : @sausages-things @jumpywhumpywriter @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question @thataquaticwhumper @alyscat

@whatamidoingherehelpme @fleur-a-whump @ratsupremacy88 @whatiswhump @scoundrelwithboba

@phoenixpromptsandstuff @bacillusinfection @artfulbok @melpomenelamusa

The whumpee's head lolled to the side, eyes squeezed shut as they tried to calm their breathing.

In, out, in-

Their mind went blank as blinding pain shot up their spine.

They never got used to it. The whumpee's hands spasmed as, with a mind of their own, they tried to reach for the collar around their neck. All this resulted in was the whumpee pulling rather painfully at the ropes that suspended them from the ceiling.

Even if their hands were free, there was no way the whumpee could get this off. It was locked tightly, supplying shocks at what seemed like random intervals.

They struggled to keep their footing as another one ripped through their body, there was barely a break between this and the last one.

The whumpee let out a ragged sob, "you're not even watching! Why- what.. purpose does this serve?"

Silence.

Nothing but the whumpee's own heavy breathing.

"Please stop," they whispered, too quiet to be heard by anyone outside the room who might actually be able to fulfill their request, it was more of a quiet prayer.

There was no answer.