Writers When They Realize They Really Have To Write

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.

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More Parental Whumper Prompts

Whumper, having just finished beating Whumpee so badly they can barely move, pulling them into a hug and gently stroking their hair, knowing Whumpee is too exhausted and scared and in too much pain to fight it.

Whumpee, in pain or with a high fever or under the influence of painkillers or sedatives, instinctively grabbing for Whumper's hand as they're about the leave, the word mom/dad slipping out of their mouth before they can stop themselves.

Whumpee pleading for Whumper's help as they're tortured by an even worse whumper.

Whumper arranging for Whumpee to fall into the hands of someone worse so they'll realize just how much better Whumper is by comparison.

Whumper gently brushing and braiding Whumpee's hair, their fingers occasionally touching the bruises they left on Whumpee's neck.

Whumpee woke strapped to a steel table. He noted a camera recording in the corner of the room.

"You're recording this?? You sick fucks."

His captor stepped closer and punched whumpee in the face.

Dazed for a moment, whumpee found his centre again, spitting blood up at his captor covering his clean white shirt.

His captor inspected the stain, his eyes switched back to Whumpee.

Staring down with an unsettling shine in whumper's eyes, he sang,

"Today son, we are taking you on a loOong tour... through Hell".

Whumpee who needs a surgery but they have Trauma about being knocked out and things Done to them.

Do they get the surgery while paralyzed and numb, but awake? Is caretaker there to still walk them through what's happening to them?

Do they agree to go under full anesthesia but only if caretaker is there both when they go under and wake up, and very specific instructions about how they want to be treated during the process?

"Fine, just, can you be there when I'm waking up? And please don't judge me if I react poorly to you, I- I don't always know where I am when I'm coming out of it."

"Let me hold the gas to my own face. Don't touch me until I'm out. Make sure I'm dressed the same by the time I'm coming up. Do what you have to do while I'm out, I don't want to hear details about it unless I ask, just get it done."

It was an exhausting, rainy day. Caretaker shook their soaked coat off their shoulders before eagerly drawing a hot bath. They passed by whumpee’s door and stopped, hearing quiet sobbing coming from the other end. Their heart sank as they quickly knocked. 

“Whumpee? Are you alright?” They asked. 

The crying silenced, but so did the voice. Caretaker didn’t wait and pushed open their door-

There they sat on the floor at the end of their bed. Tears drained from their eyes, they gave them a silent-wounded look, seeing them seemed to only overwhelm them more as they curled their arms around themselves and sniffed.

“Sweetheart… What’s wrong?” Caretaker asked, sinking on their knees next to them.

…

“…I feel so small”

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Injury Prompt #1031

Loss of consciousness

Whumper dumping whumpee in some secluded alleyway one night, stating they're bored with them and quickly driving away.

In their dazed state, whumpee begins staggering through the dark, with just one thought in their mind:

"I need to get to caretaker's house"

tw pet whump, abandonment, rejection

"Please!" Whumpee sobbed, clinging to their master's clothes desperately. "P-please, don't– don't leave me here, I'm sorry, I'm sorry!"

Whumper looked down at them with nothing but ice cold disdain, all that warmth and fondness Whumpee had gotten used to entirely gone. "Let go of my clothes," they ordered firmly, and Whumpee obeyed, because they were good, they could be good, they could follow orders.

"Please, forgive me, I– I've made mistakes, b-but I won't make one again, please. Please, just give me a chance."

"I've given you many," they said bluntly.

Please please please please I'm sorry I'm sorry I'm sorry–

"Please don't leave me," they choked out. "Please. Please, I'll do anything, please–'

Whumper didn't wait for them to finish. They turned around and left, slamming the front door of the shelter shut behind them; trapping Whumpee inside with all the other abandoned pets and workers who seemed not to care for them at all.

~

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Pick a character from your WIP that you think is under-developed and write their origin story. Or create a new character, same idea.