#child whumpee

[chickenandwhumplings]

Child Whumpee cuddling with Parent Caretaker after they’ve both been through hell. I think about this all the time. Caretaker comforting Whumpee, telling them tbat everything’s going to be okay, and they made it. They got through it. And that no matter what, Whumpee will always be safe. Caretaker will protect them. And nothing bad will happen to them again.

#whump #whump prompt #whumpee #whump tropes #whump prompts #whump idea #caretaker #child whumpee #parental caretaker #comfort

[witchy-shortcake]

Are you alright back there, kiddo?

The child didn't say say a word. They were curled up at the back of the car, looking through the window.

Every time A drove through a bump in the road they would hear a small pained sound coming from the kid's mouth. They had never been the type of person to panic when one of their studients got sick, after all B wasn't their child but something about the sight of B resting their head on the car Window, pale as a ghost and switching between slurred feverish mumbling and barely audible cries made A's heart shatter.

We're almost there, okay? You Will be resting in bed in no time.

The kid nods their head, exhausted and shivering.

The rest of the trip was spent in total silence, apart from the noises the car made. Every few minutes A would look at the back of the car, hoping that the poor child had already fallen asleep. Insead, A's glances would meet B's tired eyes, still looking around at the complete darkness that surrounded the road.

Only a few minutes more...

(Did i write this based off a single piece of fanart i found on Pinterest? The answer is yes)

#whump drabble #whump #whump writing #Car whump #child whumpee #whumpee #whump prompt #writing #caretaking #sickfic #fever whump #feverish whumpee #weak #worried caretaker #confusion #whump scenario #whump community #writing tropes #character tropes #writing stuff #Teenage whumpee #Teacher caretaker #whump ideas #road trip #School whump #Night

[the-baby-storyteller]

Cw for minor whump

Adoption Whump

Think a teenaged character in an orphanage or foster care. They’d always had a relatively good life; despite being orphaned their home was always filled with lots of other kids like them and they were happy. But, they’d heard horror stories of the horrible lives kids lived after adoption. Lives of abuse, of fear, of pain. They’d be put through endless torment, used, thrown around and beaten up, degraded simply because they were helpless, without a family, without a way to call for help. They shuddered at the thought, but surely, those stories were just that right? Stories. They were satisfied with their comfortable life, and if they ever got adopted, well, they were sure it couldn’t be that bad.

They were right on one front.

It wasn’t bad.

It was worse than they could have ever imagined.

The home seemed nice from the outside, a beautiful exterior, lush greenery, fountains sprawled over the grounds. Everything appeared to be perfect. To the average onlooker it would seem like a luxurious place for anyone to reside. It only made the reality of the situation ten times worse. Once inside, though still littered with decoration, the atmosphere was different. A threatening and frightening energy lingered in the air and the teen turned slowly toward their new owner. And that’s when it began.

The pain.

If asked, the teen couldn’t tell you what their daily life there was like. It was all jumbled together and fuzzy, their thoughts incoherent, clouded by suffering. There was only one thing that remained stable the whole time.

Hurt. Beatings. Pain. Anger. Hands. Kicks. Punches. Pain.

Each day was filled with impossible loads of tasks to accomplish.

Clean every inch of the house and do the laundry. Cook dinner and take care of my kids. Go out to buy groceries and entertain the guests. And I want this done before I get back.

They didn't talk to anyone except to be reprimanded for things out of their control. Every word said to them was meant to beat down, to crush. And when, not if, they didn't complete the overwhelming amount of work...well, they didn't like to talk about what happened then.

They went through life with eyes glazed over and a mind that constantly wished to be away, away from life, away from reality. The only thing they wanted was to leave.

Then, they were adopted by a rich person.

When they heard the news, they grew even more draw in and frighteningly quiet. Their old foster parent was overjoyed to get rid of them which only made them more fearful for what was to come, terrified of what their new parent owner would do to them.

They arrived at the new house and were in awe of how grand it was. Every crevice of the exterior was fully decorated to display their wealth. But, the only thing it could make the teen think of was how much worse they would be hurt here.

They heard footsteps approaching and immediately directed their head downward, trying to radiate submission and not wanting to anger their new owner.

The footsteps got closer and they hunched in further as their heart rate sped up, until finally two feet stopped in front of them. They held their breath for a moment, waiting for something to happen, a word, and order, a sigh, a kick or a slap even. A hand suddenly came into their view and they held back a flinch, but it just slowly rose until it gently met their cheek.

"Hi." A soft voice said.

Their heart jumped and they widened their eyes. That voice was smoother than anything they'd heard before.

"Can I see your face?"

The teen blinked dumbly for a moment, then registered they were being spoken to, not spoken at and had to hold back a jump at the unfamiliarity of the question. Why would they ask me-

"What's your name, love?"

The teen realized too late that they'd taken too long to respond, lost in their own worries and thoughts. They quivered slightly at the consequences of ignoring their owner and being reproached already, but..

'Love...'

"W-Whumpee..." The teen whispered quietly, lowering their eyes and wishing they could curl in on themself and become smaller. They couldn't ignore a direct question, but were terrified knowing talking was a sure way to get into trouble. But the hand that was still on their face wasn't letting them escape.

Against their expectations, they weren't scorned or spit at for saying their name. Instead they heard a light response.

"Hello, Whumpee," They could almost hear the smile (smile?) in the voice, "My name is Caretaker."

"Would you look at me, dear?"

Their breath caught and their eyes darted around as their brain hastened to find the right thing to say. They couldn't in good conscience look their owner in the eye but the certainly couldn't disobey an order. Amidst their wrestling, they must have absently nodded their head because, to their terror, the hand on their cheek started raising their face.

Their breathing picked up but there was nothing they could do except let it happen until they were finally face to face with the person who would control their fate for the foreseeable future. They expected to see a harsh, stony face to match their status, but instead were met with overwhelming calm, a warm aura, and a tender charm that made them want to melt. Caretaker oozed control and confidence, and the teen could tell they held a lot of power; they held themself high, were dressed in sophisticated clothing, and Whumpee had to crane their neck to meet their gaze. And yet, there was a soft feeling about them and their face was filled with kindness.

"Thank you." Caretaker smiled with squinty eyes that reminded them of the little kids at the orphan home.

The teen had never been more confused, afraid, and in the presence of such serenity all at once.

#whump #writing #conditioned whumpee #teen whumpee #my writing #whump scenario #whump thoughts #tropes #whump ideas #whump writing #child whumpee #minor whumpee #minor whump #parental caretaker #kind caretaker #scared whumpee #traumatized whumpee #the baby storyteller #i love this scenario #i might even write about it #i always end up writing more than i mean to #you know i love angst

[greatgigintheskiess]

Here's a little Hero/Villain whump prompt :P

Cw: Minor whumpee, Child whumpee, bruises, kidnapping, restraints

Everything was bathed in pitch black when Whumpee had opened their eyes. They sat on a cold ground, back against the wall and felt the bounds wrapped tightly around their thin wrists. With the smell of a basement rising into their nose, they wept quietly what only came out as a muffled whine as their mouth was covered by some thick tape. Whumpee tried to struggle helplessly and panic stricken had looked around, trying to recognize where they were right now.

They didn't remember much. Only that they had been knocked over by something, losing their consciousness right after. They had been on a mission with Hero and that was also the last thing they remembered. And Whumpee didn't know how long they had been here.

The noise of a heavy metal door opening with a loud creak and some steps coming closer suddenly echoed in the room, scaring the poor child only more.

A light from the hallway shining through the door blended Whumpee as their eyes had completely adjusted to the darkness and further muffled sounds mixed with sheer fear of the one that approached them. The dark silhouette kneeled down in front of Whumpee, ripping off the tape from their mouth to which they reacted in a whimper. A pair of eyes stared directly into the child's terrified face, studying them with a stoic glance. And only then Whumpee recognized them. It was Villain.

Another almost inaudible whine escaped the child's throat, when Villain grabbed their wrists. They knew what Villain was capable of. Hero had told them countless times how they had slaughtered so many innocent lives just for fun. They were ruthless, sadistic, pure evil.

During their training sessions, Whumpee remembered, Hero used to tell them these stories while they had beaten up the little defenseless child. Hero always said it was for their own good and only this way they could learn what it meant to be a true hero. No pain, no gain was their favorite saying that seemed to have burned into Whumpee's mind since.

And now they were in Villain's clenches and scared to the core. Whumpee already imagined how they would torture them while laughing viciously, only to kill them afterwards anyway. But then they felt the bounds on their wrists loosend, being cut through by Villain's knife.

As if that wasn't confusing enough, now followed something Whumpee had never expected to hear from their mouth.

"Have you eaten today, kid?"

After some hesitation Whumpee instinctly shook their head and Villain handed them some food afterwards. They stared a while at it, then again back at Villain who raised an eyebrow, indicating them to eat. Whumpee didn't take long and accepted the food silently, eating all up.

Villain watched them patiently without any other word. They winced though when Villain's fingers tucked under their chin, forcing the child to look at them. But instead of hurting them like Whumpee expected, they turned their face a bit to the side, revealing some dark bruises on the child's neck and shoulders.

"Did they do this to you?" Villain asked sternly but not mean or in any spiteful tone. Their voice sounded almost concerned. "Hero?"

Whumpee tried to avoid their look but failed as the fingers still held up their chin, making it impossible for them to turn away. But Villain knew the answer all along. They knew how Hero had treated Whumpee. And they knew exactly what Hero told the child about them. So their reaction was only justified.

The child nodded slightly and the hand finally let go off Whumpee's chin. And the next thing they felt confused them even more. Villain laid a soft blanket over their delicate shoulders, their hand resting gently on their back.

"Relax, kid, I ain't gonna hurt you." Villain added when Whumpee reacted with another flinch.

"Y-you don't?" Their voice quivered as their little body still shivered in a mix of cold and fear.

Villain didn't answer but helped the child getting up, giving them a bit of support on their shaky legs.

"But I don't understand... Hero used to tell me you're evil." Whumpee chirped confused, leaving Villain in right with their only assumption about them.

"Didn't you ever think that maybe they were the bad guy all the time?" Villain retorted. "And put all the blame on me?"

Whumpee didn't know what to say anymore.

Yes, it's true that Hero had always blamed Villain for their misery, making them the scapegoat. And Whumpee also had to learn that Villain is no one to trust, that they want to kill them whenever they crossed their ways.

But why did Villain act so caring now? Was this all just a trick? Hero wouldn't have lied to them, or would they?

Standing on wobbly legs Whumpee soon felt their strength giving in. They were so confused and too tired to think about this more. They just wanted to sleep. And as if Villain would've read their thoughts, they eventually lead the child to the door with their hand still resting on their back.

"C'mon, kiddo. You must be very exhausted. You can take my bed for tonight."

#whump #whump community #whump prompt #bad hero #hero whumper #villain caretaker #good villain #child whumpee #sidekick whumpee #hero villain prompt #hero villain whump #whump writing

[loserwithsyle]

Thinking about Whumper and Caretaker being siblings.

A whumper who used to comfort and be Caretaker's caretaker back when they were kids, but grew up to be just like their abuser.

Caretaker finding out that Whumper, their beloved sibling, did fucked up things to a child just like their own parent had done to them.

Caretaker listening to the young whumpee cry, and instead of being able to comfort them are so wrapped up in their own traumatic memories

The child whumpee who saw Whumper as a parental figure getting upset whenever this formally estranged aunt/uncle says bad things about Whumper.

Perhaps there was even a second parental figure involved. Are they being hurt? Did they encourage Whumper? Were they ever there for Whumpee?

Family dynamics in whump can be utilized in so many different ways

#whump #whumpee #child whumpee #family whump #traumatized caretaker #writing ideas #whump ideas #I have OCs for this

[roblingoblin285]

Day 116: "You're making a mess" (Out of Their Element)

kitty burger, i know you're reading. just know you are the only reason i managed to finish this piece. (no, i did not proofread it, good luck)

“Rob? You look freezing, kiddo. What happened?”

“I hope you fucking freeze out there. Jesus, if I’d known how much trouble you’d be I would’ve left you out there in the first place.”

“Come inside, okay? You’re making a mess of your clothes with all that mud.”

“You’re making a fucking mess. Look at this floor, does this look clean to you? Does it?”

“Is that blood? Please look at me, Rob. Where are you hurt?”

“There’s blood all over the place. Hey, look at me, brat-”

Rob gasped, stumbling backward and tripping over the edge of the carpet. He went down hard and couldn’t help but cry out as the fall tore at his already-aggravated wounds, eyes watering. He could just make out Sage standing in front of him and talking, face full of concern, but he couldn’t hear the words over the sound of blood roaring in his ears.

A gentle hand landed on his shoulder and he flinched violently, banging his head on the wall behind him. Pain rippled through the back of his skull and he whined, falling back to the floor in a heap.

“It’s alright! I’m sorry, kid, I really am. It’s just me.”

Rob blinked the tears from his eyes, realizing the hand was Sage’s. They were kneeling in front of him now, arms outstretched in a show of peace.

“Everything’s okay, sunshine,” they said quietly, “Just-”

Sage was nearly knocked into the opposite wall as Rob launched himself at them, curling his hands into their robe and sobbing into their chest. Sage recovered themselves quickly, wrapping their arms around the boy.

“There you go, kiddo. Easy now.” Sage scratched the nape of Rob’s neck, twirling his curly hair around their fingers soothingly. “Breathe for me, okay? Just one deep breath.”

Rob’s chest stuttered as he fought to obey, barely managing it before dissolving into tears once more. “I-I’m sorry,” he cried out, unsure what he was even apologizing for. “Please, s-sir-”

“None of that,” Sage said quickly, running their nails across his scalp. “Nothing to apologize for, sunshine. Just take it easy.”

Thank you for reading! Asks are always welcome about anything, and I appreciate your support! If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please submit an ask or leave a reply. 365 writing challenge taglist: @stabby-nunchucks @whumpdreamz Fall From Grace + adjacent taglist: @thekittyburger

#child whumpee #servant whumpee #parental caretaker #royal caretaker #parental whumper #whump #writing #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump writing #whump drabble #whumpee #caretaker #365 writing challenge #ocs #oote!rob #oote!sage

[em-writes-stuff]

hidden scars

warnings: (implied) past abuse, child whumpee

characters: villain, sidekick

1020 words

a/n: this was in my drafts as needing a part two, but i probably won’t end up doing that. have it as is!

---

Sidekick falls to the ground, air pushed out of their lungs as their back hits the soft ground. Villain advances, glaring menacingly at their small frame.

Sidekick tries to sit up, trying to gain some control over their body, but the pain in their ribcage stops them. Instead, they curl in on themself, sheltering their stomach with their shins. 

Villain crouches down to face them and whispers, “I’ve got you now, Sidekick. No more running. No more hiding.” 

They hold Sidekick’s wrist gently and pull them up, trying their hardest not to aggravate any of their new wounds. 

Sidekick looks at them uncertainly, “Why are you being so…gentle?” 

Villain laughs, “I can hardly in good conscience take you to be tortured for information if you’re injured before we even arrive.” they sling an arm around Sidekick’s waist and start walking. “Besides, you’re only a child. Most of your torture will be psychological.” 

Sidekick laughs dryly, “Oh, goodie.” 

Villain smiles and picks up the pace, not failing to notice how Sidekick favors their left leg and winces when they adjust the arm holding them up. They choose to ignore it for now. 

As soon as they got to the car, Sidekick had crawled to the back seat and hadn’t moved since. Villain sat in the seat in front of them, in an attempt to gain their trust. Villain would have thought they were sleeping, but they could see Sidekick’s eyes wide open. 

“Tell me, Sidekick, why do you work for Hero? What does he do for you?” Villain asks. 

Sidekick turns to face the window. Villain thinks for a moment that Sidekick won’t tell them, but then they speak. 

“Hero… saved my life a long time ago. And I didn’t have anywhere else to go. He took me in and I owe it to him to do what he wants.” They close their eyes and lean their forehead against the cold glass. “Besides, there’s not much else I can do.” 

For the rest of the long car ride, they sit in silence. 

At Villain’s hideout, Henchman opens the car door for Villain and Sidekick, but Sidekick stays in their seat. Villain rolls their eyes and crawls back into the car. They gently touch Sidekick’s arm and they flinch back, hitting their head on the car window. They wince, but say nothing. Villain tilts their head to the side for a moment, but then they reach their arm out for Sidekick to grab. 

“We’re here.” They say simply. 

Sidekick is shown to their new room, which is more impressive than they were expecting. The ceiling was high and a light hung from it. There was a large window on the wall facing a lake. A queen sized bed was covered in blankets and pillows. 

Villain clears their throat and Sidekick quickly turns to look at them. 

“I trust you’ll be comfortable. I’ll come back with a change of clothes and some first-aid supplies in a few minutes. Is there anything else I can get you while I get those?” 

Sidekick shakes their head, blinking in confusion. 

Villain smiles gently and walks out of the room. “I’ll be right back then. I have to lock this door behind me, but that’s just since you’re technically the enemy and a prisoner.” 

Sidekick wanders around the room, checking any spots that could be used to hide things, seeing if there’s any chance the window can be opened (there isn’t), and organizing the things on the bed. The door opens and Villain walks in with an armful of clothes and a first-aid kit. 

“Here, change. Those clothes look really dirty. I’ll wash them for you.” They throw the bundle of clothes at Sidekick and turn around to let them change. 

“Why are you being so kind? Hero told me that you’re cruel.” Sidekick asks. 

Villain closes their eyes and tilts their head up. “Just because I do things that go against Hero’s moral code, doesn’t mean I’m a bad person. Hero, of all people, should know that.” 

They can hear Sidekick’s sharp breaths as they aggravate wounds and have to fight every instinct in themself to turn around and help. They know that if they’re to gain Sidekick’s trust, they have to move slowly. 

“Villain?” Sidekick asks with a small tremor in their voice. “Can I have something with long sleeves?” 

“Are you sure? It gets pretty warm here at night.” They turn and see Sidekick. There’s a pile of their clothes on the floor next to them and Villain could swear they saw scars on their arms, but they crossed their arms in front of them too quickly to be sure. 

“I’m sure.” 

Villain nods. “Ok, well, let me dress your wounds first, then I’ll find something.” “I can do it.” 

“Nonsense, I have much more experience than you do in this. Besides, you look like you’re going to pass out. Just sit down and let me.” 

Sidekick shakes their head. “I can do it.” They look down, “Please.” 

“Alright, but I’ll watch just to make sure you do it alright. Don’t want any of these getting infected.” 

They set the first-aid kit on the table and watch as Sidekick cleans their cuts. 

“You’re pretty good at that, kid. Where’d you learn?” they chuckle. “Let me guess, Hero makes you patch him up?” 

Sidekick grits their teeth, “Not quite.” They hiss as they dab some rubbing alcohol on one of the bigger cuts. Villain tilts their head and Sidekick looks up at them. “I have to dress my own wounds a lot of the time.” 

Villain nods, not quite knowing what to say. “I’ll go get you a jacket or something.”

Sidekick sighs as the door closes. They finish bandaging the last major cut and lean their head against the back of the chair. They cross their arms in front of them, trying their best to cover the majority of the scars on their arms, but failing pretty miserably. 

Villain comes back into the room and hands Sidekick a large hoodie, trying their best not to stare at the surplus of scars along their skin. 

#em writes #em writes stuff #my writing #sidekick whumpee #villain caretaker #past abuse #hero whumper #sidekick whump #child whumpee #whump #whump fic #whump writing

[clickerflight]

Whump week: Nobody needs to know

@week-of-whump

Master list

Part 2

I watched Joseph: King of dreams when I was younger, and I have never been the same about scrubbing floors since.

Content: Child whumpee, demon caretaker, whumpee thinks he's still a slave, blisters and hand sores, lost in a delusion born out of fear, recovery whump

................................................

Souka woke in the dark. He was warm and comfortable. For a long moment he didn’t know why he had woken up, but a creeping strangeness pacing at the back of his mind kept him from going back to sleep. 

Why was he so comfortable? Whatever he was laying on was so soft, nothing like the floors or hay stuffed sacks he was used to sleeping on. He wasn’t allowed on anything this nice. He was just a slave. He knew that. 

He looked around the room, his chest tightening to see if he had been caught. He slowly peeled the blankets off and got off the bed as quietly as he could, his heart thumping. He wasn’t allowed to be on something so nice. He knew he wasn’t. 

He laid down in the corner, shivering as his sleep warmed body was now faced with the exposed air. He hoped daylight would come soon. As he laid there on the floor he kept thinking someone would come in and see what he had done. They’d beat him for hours, surely, to remind him of his place. 

He got up and quickly made the bed, pinching the blankets to try not to leave any dirt on them. He knew how dirty he usually was. Still, he was probably leaving signs of what he had done as he went. Now they would know he was trying to hide that he had been in the bed. 

Tears streamed silently down his face as he went back to laying on the floor, shivering as he wrapped his arms around his stomach. 

He needed to do something. He wasn’t going to be able to sleep and he couldn’t wait for morning. Sometimes he got praise for working through the night, so perhaps if he did so he would be forgiven for sleeping in the bed. 

Souka got up and, in a daze, left the room he was in. The door wasn’t locked. 

He saw no one as he found a floor covered in some form of tile. He didn’t quite know how, but he soon had a wet rag in hand, a bucket of water by his side, and he scrubbed the floor like his life depended on it. With his luck, it might. 

He wished he could remember where Ichimaru was, but everytime he tried to remember, more tears spilled down his face and his already limited night vision would vanish. He pushed all thoughts out of his mind and scrubbed. He ignored his aching knuckles, the sores already forming from the cold water and the mindless scrubbing, and just put all his energy into this one mind numbing task, desperately hoping the pain in his chest and behind his eyes would go away. 

………………………………

Laurance didn’t sleep much since he became a demon. He sat and read through some papers for an upcoming mission. He liked spending his sleepless nights reading the reports and then sharing all of the information he gathered with the others through the bond when it came time. It was a good use of time and the others had a tendency to do things for him as thank you. 

Laurance paused to take a note of something to look up later when he heard something. He froze, ears ringing as he listened carefully. Someone was moving upstairs, something with small lungs and hiccuping breaths. 

He got up quickly, heading upstairs to see what was wrong. He didn’t spot the newest addition to the household at first, but he found that the floor was wet under his bare feet in the kitchen and dining room and finally found the small boy working by the kitchen island, scrubbing hard as hiccupping sobs bubbled out of a permanently damaged throat. 

“Souka?” Laurance asked softly, approaching slowly so as to not scare the boy. 

Souka flinched back, his lips moving and sounds escaping his throat, but there were panicked whispers and rasps soon muffled as he threw his arms over his face to protect himself. 

Laurance hesitated before grabbing another rag and getting onto the floor, dipping his rag in the bucket and scrubbing. 

Souka moved his arms, watching him with a far away gaze before he went back to cleaning the floor like nothing happened.

Laurance sighed softly. Souka was really gone, then, if he thought Laurance was a fellow slave. Still, Laurance would rather pretend to be a slave than have Souka think he was a master. The boy had been through enough as it was. 

It wasn’t until they finished the floor that Souka seemed to shake out of it. Laurance stood up to dump the buckets in the sink, turning around to see Souka staring at him, eyes wide. He looked around, as though waking from a dream. Perhaps he was. 

He looked down at his reddened hands, blisters already popped and even bleeding in places. 

Laurance set the bucket aside and knelt beside him, taking his hands to look. Souka trembled under his touch and Laurance hushed him, running a hand through the boy’s long hair. “You’re safe now, remember?” Laurance asked gently.

Souka nodded, tears welling up in his eyes and Laurance helped him up, setting him on a stool at the island before getting him a cup of water. 

Souka grabbed Laurance’s shirt and Laurance leaned in, putting his ear near Souka’s mouth. His voice was too damaged to speak, but he could still somewhat whisper. “Sorry. You have been ge-generous. I know… I’m safe. I didn’t mean to-”

“It’s okay, Souka,” Laurance said, putting the cup in the boy’s hands. “It’s okay to still be scared. It was all you knew. Drink that water and we’ll bandage your hands.”

“I don’ want her to know,'' Souka managed in a hoarse whisper. “It would m-make her sa-sad.”

Laurance sighed, running a hand through his hair. It would make Anisha sad to know that Souka had been desperately cleaning the floors at who knows what hour. “I won’t tell her. Nobody needs to know. Now, drink the water, and we’ll clean up your hands and I’ll make sure you get to sleep in.”

Souka nodded and lifted the cup to his lips.

Part 4

@whumpsday

#whump #whump challenge #whump week #week-of-whump #child whumpee #demon caretaker #slave whump #recovery whump #blisters #hand sores #I love my poor boi #trust me #he gets so so much love through the whole thought project #caretaking #whump art

[whumperofmassdestruction]

whumpee has a complicated relationship with their family, and it's mostly their own damn fault. in order to keep their own secrets safe, they've built a wall between themselves and the rest of their family, pushing their siblings and family away by putting on a mask of somebody worthy of being hated. in a household full of people that are supposed to know them better than they know themselves, they have never felt more alone.

bonus points if the secrets they keep would hurt the rest of the family if they were revealed.

#whumperofmassdestruction #familial whump #sibling whump #child whumpee

[whumpitlikeyoumeanit]

The Need of Malfoy Men to Please Their Fathers Was Not Only Pathological, It Was Magical

((Content warning: Child abuse, mind control / conditioning, chid whumpee, domination ))

((Promptspiration: @week-of-whump 2023: October 13: Child Whump

the idea of this Au backstory is @thebestieyoureinlovewith's (here) With apologies; I think I made the parents a little darker than intended...))

Whumpee: Draco

Whumper: Lucius

Caretaker: --

Whump type: Mental / Domination

Fic type: Weird AU (Malfoy Blood Magic)

((words: ~1000))

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

Narcissa dragged the crying, uncooperative boy into the study by the arm, tugging firmly when he squirmed yet again and redoubled his sobbing, digging in his feet on the carpet.

"Lucius, if you're going to punish him," she gritted out between her teeth, "you deal with it."

Lucius glanced up mildly from his papers. "Just leave him in his room."

"If that worked, I would have done it," she snapped. "It has been three hours. Either let him go or keep him yourself." She pushed Draco up beside the desk. He squirmed in her hands to try to turn away, but she held him firmly.

The look he gave her was indulgent; he didn't think this was necessary, but if she was demanding it... He turned toward the end of the desk and crossed his legs. "Draco."

Draco faced him with his head hanging, refusing to look, clumsy hands clutching and yanking at the front of his shirt, still sobbing. There were no actual tears, of course; he'd been 'crying' so long that he'd used them all up, and left just the emotion and the noise.

"Draco," he repeated severely, and the boy squirmed his face away into his shoulder. "Why are you crying?"

He yanked hard on his clothes. "It hurts!" he yelled.

"No, it doesn't," he corrected patiently. The boy didn't really have the words; he wasn't quite four, so it was reasonable, he supposed. A little disappointing, though. "It feels bad. That isn't pain."

"No! It hurts!"

"Are you talking back to me?"

Draco flinched and sobbed harder.

Lucius tapped his foot lightly. Draco squirmed to resist and when he figured out he couldn't, that his mother was still blocking him from running away, he flung himself down on the floor at his father's feet with a petulant sob.

"Why does it feel bad?"

"Because you're mad at me!" he wailed. Above him, Narcissa pressed her eyes closed and took a deep, sharp breath, rubbing her temple.

"No, I am not," he corrected calmly. "If I were angry with you, it would be pain." Not intentionally, of course; it wasn't as though he would be, say, Crucioing him. But the magic that bound them together responded to emotion. "I am disappointed."

"I'm sorry!"

"Don't beg," he said coolly. "You are a Malfoy." His disapproval naturally heightened the unpleasant feeling playing through Draco's nerves, and the boy shrieked and kicked at the floor.

"Lucius," Narcissa said tightly. "This is unbearable. You should have either activated this curse years ago, or waited until he was old enough to be reasonable."

"It isn't a curse," he said mildly.

"It is a curse to me," she snapped. "This is not 'handling it'."

"You have to be patient. It is a process. Draco." The boy flinched at the sound of his name, and he didn't care for that. "Look at me."

Draco shook his head wildly. Lucius patiently put his foot out to stop the motion of his head, then when he got him still, laid his toe under his chin and turned his face up to make him look. "Good," he said, the mildest of praise. "That feels better, doesn't it?"

"No," he sniffled petulantly.

"Yes, it does," he corrected. He knew it did; Draco was hardly the first Malfoy boy to be bound by this spell. It had existed in their family so long it wasn't even really a spell, per se, but some of that 'old magic' that seemed built into the fabric of the world. He knew exactly how Draco felt. But Draco was such a stubborn and wildly emotional child who seemed to revel in his sulking, he wouldn't even admit to relief. "Do you know why it feels better?"

"No..."

"Because you did as I said. Do you understand?"

Draco sniffled without responding.

"Do something I don't like..." he prompted.

He squirmed and tried to take his head back, but Lucius kept his foot under his jaw so he couldn't. "It feels bad," Draco finally said in a small voice.

"Good. And to feel better..."

"Do as you say..."

"Correct." He took his foot back. "If you ever manage to please me, it will feel good." It wasn't easy to obtain, but the feel of your father's pride was intoxicating. They'd see if Draco ever managed it.

Draco sat down firmly on his butt and sniffled again.

Lucius tapped the floor with his foot again for his attention. "What do I want you to do?"

"I don't know," he sniffled petulantly.

"I told you."

"I don't know!"

Well, he was young. He supposed he couldn't hold too many things in his mind for that long. "I want you to thank me properly."

It was a classic test. Moreover, it was a highly effective trial, for them. Malfoy boys were so proud -- as they should be, of course -- that they had to really commit to do any such thing. It helped them understand their place, and effectively demonstrated the possible rewards for doing what their father wanted instead of what their instincts were telling them.

Draco yanked at his shirt again, looking up at him with big, wet eyes.

"Say 'thank you'."

"Thank you..." Draco echoed.

"'Sir'."

"Sir." He tapped his foot on the carpet, and Draco looked at it, then back up at him. "Thank you, sir?" he repeated tenatively.

He didn't need to smile at that; the way Draco gasped when the unpleasant feeling abruptly transmuted to a good, warming tingle that couldn't properly be described said it all. The sobbing and sniffling stopped as suddenly as if they were an act he forgot he was putting on.

He was actually surprised, himself, at how satisfying it felt to be on the receiving end of that submission. He wondered for the first time if perhaps the ancient magic went both ways.

"Finally," Narcissa sighed. "I am going to have a nap. Don't make him cry again if you can help it."

"I doubt you have to worry." He turned back to his desk, and glanced down at Draco. He was looking up at him now with a sort of wonder. "You can stay," he said magnanimously.

#whump week #child whumpee #draco whumpee #lucius whumper #magical whump #domination whump #conditioning whump #whump writing #weird au #malfoy blood magic au #whump #not a prompt whumpitlikeyoumeanit #whumpitlikeyoumeanit wrote it

[weirdstrangeandawful]

TW: whump, implied child abuse

'In case it wasn't so completely, incredibly, horribly, in-your-face obvious: children feel pain too, Whumper!'

'I- I'm sorry. I didn't know... No one ever told me...'

(Loosely inspired by the fact that they used to think premature babies couldn't feel pain)

#whump #whump prompt #dialogue prompt #abuse tw #child abuse tw #child whumpee

[witchy-shortcake]

Angsty younger/little whumpee scenarios i though about recently:

TW for emeto, Mentions of death, etc under the cut:

. Severely injured whumpee Who is just crying and throwing up, too disoriented and overall dizzy to process where they are + Caretaker craddling them in their arms, speaking softly and trying to comfort them whole fighting back tears because they know whumpee will most likely not make it.

. Whumpee crawls into caretaker's bed saying they had a nightmare, caretaker can feel the fever burning through their clothes and inmediately know they should be carrying them to the hospital, and fast.

. Caretaker is whumpee's sibling/they grew Up together in a really unsafe enviroment and when whumpee falls ill Caretaker is running around looking for someone that could help whumpee feel better (probably failing to notice their own illness)

. Parent caretaker is a medical profesional and must behave as such, even if their child is the one in need of assistance.

. Nasty children germs. My family has been getting sick more since my dad started working in an elementary school cafetería than ever before.

#whump #whumpee #whump writing #fyp2023 #whump prompt #viralpost #writing #whump drabble #child whumpee

[cats-and-confusion]

LOOK AT HIM HHHHRRGHHAGGHRHRHRHRHHH

#whumpee #curse of lalin webtoon #webtoon #not my art #not mine #screenshots #tw restraints #tw restrained #tw manhandling #child whumpee #tw child whumpee

[greatgigintheskiess]

Haven't posted any art for a while now, have I?

So there ya go~

#whump #whump community #whump art #child whumpee #parental caretaker #oc: don #oc: six #original story #with me

[loserwithsyle]

3.) Sensory deprivation/Overstimulation/Isolation

Used: Isolation

Salvatore sobbed as the man dressed in a white lab coat drew their blood, They didn't understand what was going on, who these people were, where they were at. Nothing.

Just as quickly as the man came into the room, he left. The first person he had seen in days? Weeks? Months? Of being in this sad beige room, chained to the wall furthest from the bed, positioned so he couldn't reach it.

That person didn't come back. Not the next day, day after that, or 3 days into the future. A week passed, Still no one. 2 more days, he was getting hungry. Sure, His species was known for being able to go months without food in certain circumstances, but that was adults. Salvatore was only eleven.

Five more days. Salvatore's fear of this place was only getting worse. When the lights automatically turned off for the night he would've sworn he saw figures wisping around. That wasn't normal.

Eventually, The lights turned off and didn't ever turn back on. How long had it been? He'd long lost count of the days.

No one would ever come again, is what he thought.

#ailesswhumptober2023 #i'm shit at writing #oc #whump #help idk what im doing #whump writing #original character #whumpee #isolation #oh btw my characters are mainly kids bc I'm a kid too #nonhuman whumpee #tw child whump #child whumpee

[roblingoblin285]

Day 112: Denial (Out of Their Element)

im not sure if the prompt comes through as much as it does in my head. robs in denial due to conditioning

“You don’t have to answer this if you’re uncomfortable, okay?”

No.

“The scars, on your back and arms.”

No, no, no.

“Can you tell me who did that to you?”

Please, no.

Sage grimaced a little as the boy began to shake, pulling his arms closer to himself. “It’s okay if you can’t,” they said, reaching out to rest a hand on Rob’s knee. “I’m sorry if that was too much, kiddo. I only want to help you.”

“I deserved it.”

The words were whispered so quietly that Sage nearly missed them. “Hm?”

“It was my fault,” Rob said, louder. “I deserved it, sir. I disobeyed him.”

Sage winced. “No, sunshine, you didn’t. You couldn’t do anything to deserve that, no matter what he told you.”

Rob shook his head slowly, eyes glazed over with tears. “He didn’t do anything wrong. I didn’t follow the rules, and I was punished for it.”

The king’s eyes stung before they could help it. “He was wrong to do that to you, Rob. Nothing you ever could have done would have ever made that right.”

“But I- he didn’t-” The boy shook his head harder, panic swelling in his chest. “It was always my fault, he couldn’t-”

“You’re a child,” Sage said, rubbing Rob’s leg with a careful hand. “He was the adult and should have known better. You have nothing to be sorry for, okay? Can you say it back to me?”

Rob’s breath hitched in his chest. “I-I have nothing to be sorry for.”

Thank you for reading! Asks are always welcome about anything, and I appreciate your support! If you’d like to be added or removed from the taglist, please submit an ask or leave a reply. 365 writing challenge taglist: @stabby-nunchucks Fall From Grace + adjacent taglist: @thekittyburger

#child whumpee #servant whumpee #royal caretaker #whump #writing #whump prompt #whump scenario #whump writing #whump drabble #whumpee #caretaker #365 writing challenge #ocs #oote!rob #oote!sage