Tumgik
#parent child whump
witchering10123 · 8 months
Link
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar) Characters: Sokka (Avatar), Hakoda (Avatar) Additional Tags: Branding, Good Parent Hakoda (Avatar), Protective Hakoda (Avatar), Hurt Sokka (Avatar), my search history is suffering because of this, You're Welcome, Hurt/Comfort, well as much comfort as you're going to get, Let's be realistic here, Beating, when you say something snarky, and get punched in the face because of it, ...you can't really argue against it, Whumptober 2023, Day Ten: Branding (Whumptober 2023) Series: Part 10 of a witchering's whumptober 2023 Summary:
Did… he didn’t deserve to move on, did he? That was what this was about. Making sure he wouldn’t forget, and making sure he was never forgiven. Sokka takes a deep breath. This is for the best, he’s realised. He keeps his mouth shut, his eyes down. He doesn’t flinch away as Nukilik cuts his tunic around his neck, and leaves it bare for the branding iron. He lets Dad’s incensed rage sweep over him like a wave. And yet...
-----
Arnook's final revenge on the man who watched as his daughter died.
Day Ten: Branding - can be read as a standalone
3 notes · View notes
greatgigintheskiess · 6 months
Text
Classic tropes/prompts in parental stories <3
The kid wakes up in the middle of the night because of nightmares and is too scared to sleep by themselves, so they sneak into their parental figure's bedroom, begging them to sleep together
Hide and Seek
Parental figure carrying the kid piggyback
Tickle fights! (no need for explanations, that's just adorable qwq)
Kid falls asleep somewhere and the caretaker finds them, bringing them to their bed
Caretaker and the child fall asleep on the couch together while watching a movie <3
Caretaker takes the kid to a fair, playground, restaurant or shopping, just spending the day and having fun together
Winter! (picture snowball fights, sleighing, buliding a snowman, hot chocolate, baking cookies, Christmas presents)
On a cold winter day Caretaker notices that the child is freezing so they draw a gentle smile and say: "Come here", pulling them under their coat to warm them up
Caretaker gives the kid their clothes, which are waaay too large for them so they are sitting there in a oversized sweater and Caretaker rolls up their sleeves
(and for a bit o' whump :D) Child gets injured/sick and the caretaker has to tend to their wounds or nurse them back to health
Stargazing together or catching some fireflies (I have a soft spot for that one <3)
Or just both of them cuddling under a blanket in front of the fireplace while rain and thunder is rumbling outside :3
506 notes · View notes
Text
Ok, but imagine Villain/Henchman/Assassin Whumpee being found by the heroes while they raided Supervillain Whumper's lair and they take Whumpee into custody. They don't handcuff Whumpee because they aren't fighting back (either too injured or in shock) but as they lead Whumpee out of the lair, Whumpee stops.
"Did you find them?"
"Find who?"
Whumpee pulls away from them and goes deeper into the lair. Every time the heroes grab them, they get more and more distressed, saying that they can't leave. They won't leave. After a minute, they start screaming out a name that the heroes don't recognize.
Just as one of the heroes goes to knock Whumpee out, they see a child crawl out from under the stairs and run straight for Whumpee who drops to their knees and hugs the child tightly, shushing their cries and whispering soft, comforting words. "Shh, it's ok. Mommy/Daddy is here. I'm ok. We're ok. it's ok. Shh."
247 notes · View notes
qwertycake · 5 months
Text
parental caretaker and kid writing prompts
- younger kid standing on their caretaker's shoes and rocking around. almost like they're dancing or waltzing.
- the thing where the caretaker pulls the kid closer to them by like wrapping their hand around their head and covering their ear and tucking them against them.
- kid sitting on caretaker's shoulders. always a good one.
- "shh, shh, I know, I know"
- any sort of "take me instead" situation, said by either character. devastating.
- dealing with sickness. like obviously the kid getting sick and accidentally calling their caretaker mum/dad/parent in their feverish delirium is super cute and top tier.
- BUT ALSO. hear me out. caretaker getting sick but trying to push through to look after their kid and their kid works super hard to make their job easier or look after them in small ways.
- kid hiding for some reason (minor anxiety or major trauma or anything in between) and the caretaker comforting them or trying to coax them out.
- caretaker sweeping kid up in a big ole bear hug and spinning em around.
- kid hiding behind caretaker.
- "you should be in bed" "I can't sleep" "...alright, get over here, you can stay up for five more minutes"
- caretaker and a maybe slightly older kid arguing and making up.
- caretaker picking up slightly older kid from a party that's gone wrong in some way.
- caretaker who's maybe less like a parent and more like an older sibling. they take their kid to abandoned buildings and eat cheap takeaway/takeout with them.
- caretaker teaching their slightly older kid life skills that they maybe didn't have the chance to pick up on when they were younger.
- or yk just caretaker teaching their younger kid life skills. like trying to get them involved with cooking and lifting them up to help grab things and letting them watch things get cut up and prepared.
- caretaker indulging their younger kid in tea parties with their stuffed animals.
- caretaker looking after a kid's comfort items (bonus point if the kid is older, and double bonus points if the kid is too embarrassed to care for their comfort items themselves).
- younger kid curled up by their caretaker while their caretaker plays videogames. bonus points if the caretaker lets them play like baby mode co-op (like luma in mario galaxy). bonus bonus points if the caretaker is like an older sibling and gives the kid an unplugged controller.
- older kid playing co-op with their caretaker and getting way too invested. bonus points if it's mario kart. bonus bonus points if they're showing each other their favourite games from their respective childhoods (because yk different eras).
- caretaker carrying an exhausted kid to bed.
- better yet, the kid pretends to fall asleep in the car so they can be carried inside (caretaker knows their game but is more than happy to carry them).
- caretaker having a hard day working late and coming home to their kid sleeping peacefully on the couch, clearly having waited for them to come home.
- kid having a hard day at school and caretaker is in the middle of making dinner for them.
- caretaker shielding kid from danger with their body.
- kid refusing to leave caretaker's side when they're both in danger.
356 notes · View notes
whumpster-dumpster · 1 year
Text
Parental Caretaker sternly full-naming the restless Whumpee to make them stay in bed and actually recover and Whumpee trying to keep up their indignant front while internally screaming because they're just now realizing they've become close enough to do that
460 notes · View notes
chickenandwhumplings · 8 months
Text
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.
186 notes · View notes
CW: child whumper (sidekick), mentions of previous abuse. (If you find any more CWs I’ve missed, please tell me!)
Villain was feeling great. Todays plan had gone perfectly and now hero’s own sidekick was tied to a chair in front of them. Poor sidekick probably had no idea where they were, Villain smirked.
‘I bet your praying hero is going to show up and save you. I assure you they won’t. They don’t even know where my lair is; besides, do you really think they’ll go through all the effort just to save their stupid little sidekick who got themselves kidnapped?’
Sidekick was shaking. Terrified. Now completely at the villains mercy, their identity was going to be revealed, they just knew it. And then it wouldn’t just be sidekick that will die, but their loved ones too. Hero has told sidekick about villain. Sidekick knew villain was a ruthless killer. Their fear mixed with their guilt for having endangering not only themselves but their friends too. Hero would be so disappointed in sidekick. Villain was right, hero would never bother to save them. It was their own fault that they had messed up and gotten themselves kidnapped.
Villain crouched down and reached out to sidekicks face-
‘Let’s see who’s under this disguise- which I must say, is rather pathetic. Could you not have come up with a better costume for yourself?’, villain joked.
-Sidekick flinched away, but villain swiftly grabbed sidekicks mask and roughly pulled it off their face.
‘I bet you’re-‘,
The villains grin dropped along with their stomach. This was not what they were expecting. Rage shook through villain. Sidekicks face showed nothing but absolute fear.
‘A child. You’re just a child’
Villains face softened as they tried to hide their anger from the kid that sat before them. Hero had sent a child to fight them. A child. How could hero do this? And who was responsible for sidekicks black eye? Villain knew it wasn’t them. Was it hero? When villain got their hands on them-
But that could be dealt with later. Villain needed to focus on the terrified face in front of them.
‘I’m not a child. I’m 15’
‘Who told you that was old? Was it hero? You can’t even drink yet, darling. You’re a child.
And to be clear, I am not going to hurt you. I know hero’s probably told you horrible lies about me, but I can assure you, they’re not true… at least most of them aren’t true. But I would never intentionally hurt a child’
Sidekick was shocked by the softness of villains voice, which was completely different from the roughness it had been filled with 2 seconds ago. It was just an act. It had to be. Sure, hero could be harsh to sidekick, but sidekick deserved it right? Hero was just training sidekick.
‘Are you hungry? Injured? Let me patch you up’
Villain gently brushed sidekicks hair out their face to get a better look at the purple bruises forming on their forehead. Sidekick flinched away from the hand, letting out a small whimper.
That was it. Villain vowed they would destroy hero next time they saw them. But first, they have got to help the poor kid.
————————————————————————————————
This was my first time writing something like this, so any feedback and help would be appreciated. In fact, it think this is the first time I’ve written a story outside an English lesson (which I haven’t done as a subject since GCSE’s) since I wrote a short Harry Potter headcanon when I was 12 lol. I still remember that headcanon tho, and I’m pretty sure it might still be on tumblr somewhere 🫡
56 notes · View notes
Text
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.
213 notes · View notes
hurtmyfavsthanks · 3 months
Text
Febuwhump Day 17: Hostage
Content warning: young whumpee/caretaker. They're not meant to be minors, but could easily be read as such
This is a sequel to THIS. This could work as a standalone however.
Whumper had been doing their job long enough to learn that going for the mark directly was a waste of time. It was like trying to catch a fish by hand. A massive, frustrating waste of time, because a fish in the water would always outspeed a clumsy human.
Any catch worth Whumper’s time would be protected. The secret lovers of celebrities, the children of millionaires, the loved ones of people in power—they were always surrounded by fencing and people who fretted over them. It was nearly impossible to catch them truly alone, and odds were even if they were alone, they were surrounded by so many cameras that it wouldn’t be worth the risk.
Whumper never went for the mark directly, cause it wasn’t worth it. Not when they could go for the bait.
Now the bait was easy to get a hold of. It wasn’t that nobody cared about the bait–if nobody cared, it wouldn’t be worth going after–but it was that nobody thought the bait was in danger. Why would they be? The friend of a friend, someone who fell under the radar, unremarkable beyond a few key relationships that gave them value. A useful nobody, one that could vanish for hours before anyone got worried.
It’s hard to force a mark out of the safety built around them. But to give them a reason to leave, to hand them the chance to be a hero?
They’ll slip themselves out of their protection and walk straight into a trap, armed with nothing but their parent’s money and a pocket knife. It was almost cute.
Whumper turned the corner, a lazy grip on the driver wheel, as they finally pulled into their latest base. It was more of a shack, really. A derelict hobble, forgotten, nestled in between unused forest land and a garbage dump. The sort of place that went weeks without being seen by a human. It’d be easy to burn and abandon, once they got the money from Caretaker’s parents.
Whumper glanced down at the hostage in question.
The kid was practically curled into a ball. Legs tucked to their chest, back pressed so hard against the door that it was like they were trying to push it open. They wouldn’t lift their eyes to look at Whumper, but they didn’t turn away either, as if they were torn between being too afraid to look and too afraid to look away.
The only restraints Whumper had put on them was to tie their hands together. It wasn’t to stop them from escaping– Whumper knew they wouldn’t run, not when they knew Whumpee was so close– but more to make sure they didn’t forget their situation. Whumper liked to keep catches scared.
Whumper parked the car. They heard Caretaker’s breath hitch as they came to a stop.
Caretaker didn’t move as Whumper got out. They sat, paralyzed with fear, as Whumper released the look to the passenger seat with the press of a button. When Whumper opened the door, Caretaker flinched back, half crawling into the driver’s seat.
Whumper gestured for them to get out. “Let’s get this over with, yeah? I might even feed you after if you’re good.”
Slowly, Caretaker untangled themselves, leaving the car with shaking legs. They pressed their back into the door, shutting it. They stayed pressed there. Whumper grabbed them by the shoulder and pushed them forward.
They guided Caretaker into the building.
The smell of mold and rot hit them like a truck as they opened the door. The whole place was beginning to rot away. Whumper resisted the urge to gag as the taste of rotting wood filled their mouth.
They’d put together their set up before they’d left. The living room was empty besides a few set items. A tall lamp, the only source of light in the room, was illuminating a single, rusted, metal chair. Finally, a camera, the only thing that looked worth any sort of money, stood ready to catch every moment.
It was a basic set up, rudimentary even, and that’s how Whumper wanted it. Whumper found that people feared the amateur more than the professional
Whumper gestured towards the chair, and Caretaker’s eyes flicked towards it anxiously.
“Come on, don’t get cold feet now,” They pulled a folded piece of paper from their pocket, their own handwriting scribbled onto it. They’d make sure to burn it once the video was done. “All you gotta do is read the paper.”
Caretaker didn’t move. They stood like a deer in the headlights, trembling. Their jaw trembled, and for a long moment, Whumper thought they were finally going to dissolve into sobs.
Instead they spoke.
“Wait. I…I wanna see Whumpee first.” Their voice was frail, trembling, like they’d lose the will to speak at any moment. And yet some of their old bravado seemed to have resurfaced.
Whumper raised an eyebrow. “I’m sure you do. And?”
They hunched their shoulders, shrinking into themselves. And yet they continued. “I mean–You want me to uh, r-record a ransom video. And you said Whumpee would be safe if I listened,”They stood straighter, just barely. “It’s only fair if you…–if you let me see Whumpee, before I start. Please.”
They stood in place, eyes cast downward, fingers tangled together anxiously at their waist. And yet they were still holding their ground.
Whumer stared for a moment, considering. “You really think you’re in a position to be making demands?” They asked, voice low.
They let the question hang in the air. Caretaker froze, eyes widening like a child with their hand caught in the cookie jar. Their lips began to tremble, and when they took a stumbling step away from Whumper, they nearly tripped over the chair.
Caretaker’s mouth cracked open, an apology already on their tongue, when Whumper let their expression lighten. Whumper chuckled, deep and rumbling.
“I don’t know if you’re stupid, or brave as hell. Probably both,” Whumper shrugged, watching as Caretaker’s shoulders slumped in relief. “I respect it. Let’s visit the bait.”
Whumper turned, heading towards the dark, barren hallway that led deeper into the house. Caretaker followed them like a lost duckling.
They stopped at the door at the end of the hall. It wasn’t anything special, just a normal door they’d fitted with a single padlock. Both with no windows and only one exit, the spare room made an effective holding cell.
Whumper pulled the keys from their pocket, opening the door. They stepped aside to give Caretaker a clear view.
Whumpee was right where they’d left them. Their arms and legs were bound with duct tape. The blood on their face had long dried, staining the once white collar of their school uniform a rusty brown. The gag was still firmly in place.
Their eyes bulged when they saw Caretaker. Whumpee screamed, a wordless plea, and lurched their body forward. All they managed to do was tip themselves over, helpless and prone on the floor.
“Whumpee-!” Caretaker took a step to move forward, but a firm hand on their shoulder stopped them. Still, that didn’t stop them from leaning towards their friend as much as Whumper’s hold would allow. “Shit, you’re okay! You’re okay! Just wait and I–I’m going to get us both out–I promise!”
Whumpee only sobbed behind their gag.
Whumper knew better than to let things go on much longer. They squeezed Caretaker’s shoulder, drawing their attention. “You’ll get them out by doing what I say, remember? They stay safe as long as you follow directions.”
Caretaker finally tore their eyes from Whumpee. They met Whumper’s gaze, eyes wide and pleading. There was too much determination in that stare for Whumper’s liking. They knew they’d have to put an end to that.
“Please, just let them go! You–you want me, right? They don’t have anything to do with this!”
“Hey,” they let their tone sharpen, and every inch of Caretaker froze. Whumpee fell silent. “You already got one favor from me. You’re testing your luck.”
Caretaker’s face paled. They stammered, seemingly remembering the situation they were in. “I–I’m sorry. But please–,”
Caretaker gasped as they were yanked back, pulled out of the open doorway. Whumper slammed them against the wall, drawing a scream from their lips. Whumpee let out a muffled shout.
Whumper loomed over Caretaker, shadows darkening their features. Caretaker stared up at them with tearfilled eyes
“Do you know why Whumpee’s still alive?”
“I–”
“Because I decided to keep them alive. Because I’ve been in a good mood. And as long as I stay in a good mood, they get to stay in one piece.”
Caretaker looked ready to faint. Their breath hitched, a panicked sob tearing its way from their throat.
“And you know what puts me in a bad mood?” they leaned forward, drawing a panicked whine from Caretaker. Caretaker pressed themselves flat against the wall. “When brats think they’ve got any bargaining power with me. You understand?”
“Y-yes! Yes sir, I’m sorry, I didn’t mean–I’m sorry–,”
Whumper pulled away. They kicked the door to Whumpee’s room shut, quickly returning the lock. When they turned back to look at Caretaker, they were still pressed against the wall. Eyes wide, staring, shoulders shaking with their silent sobs.
It was a good start. Whumper knew from experience that they’d drop the hero act within a week.
Whumper grinned. “Good. Then you have something to read, don’t you?”
30 notes · View notes
mintflavouredwhump · 2 months
Text
An eldest child whumpee who is always forced to be the 'role model' of their younger siblings while bearing the brunt of their parents' anger and expectations.
50 notes · View notes
whumpsical · 10 months
Text
in my head recently I've been using the term "ally" more than "caretaker" to describe that relationship trope
caretaker feels a bit one-sided, no one is *just* a caretaker, it really minimizes the character
but an *ally,* that gives them much more agency & freedom in their characterization, i rly like it
and i think it sounds cooler lol
61 notes · View notes
witchering10123 · 7 months
Link
Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Avatar: The Last Airbender Rating: Mature Warnings: Rape/Non-Con Relationships: Hakoda & Sokka (Avatar) Characters: Hakoda (Avatar), Sokka (Avatar) Additional Tags: Non-Consensual Touching, Attempted Rape/Non-Con, Underage Rape/Non-con, be careful guys, Hurt Sokka (Avatar), Protective Hakoda (Avatar), Restraints, Traumatised Sokka (Avatar), that tag is a tag solely for this fic, Drunkenness, Hurt/Comfort, but like not that much comfort, it's definitely not proportional, my poor boy, Whumptober 2023, Day Twenty-Six: Non-consensual Touching (Whumptober 2023) Series: Part 26 of a witchering's whumptober 2023 Summary:
“We’re just having a little bit of fun, aren’t we, sweetheart?” Sokka whimpers, shaking his head.
-----
He's not going to lose his son. Not to this, not to this animal.
Day Twenty-Six: Non-consensual Touching - can be read as a standalone
1 note · View note
whump-tr0pes · 7 months
Text
Honor Bound 6 - 24
Tumblr media
Honor Bound 6 - 24 (Not Used to Freedom) - @badthingshappenbingo
Requested by @who-needs-a-life-anyways
Red X for posted, white X for requested! Send in your requests! If you don’t see a prompt here that you already requested, please send it again!
~
This is a series. Start here, continued from here.
This is a sequel to Honor Bound, Honor Bound 2, Honor Bound 3, Honor Bound 4, Honor Bound 5, and the prequel Vera.
AO3
Masterlist
Contents: past captivity, themes of self-harm, past hallucinations, angst, recovery, Gavin being a feral Pomeranian with Isaac desperately holding the leash, frank discussion of murder, past child abuse, complicated feelings about abusers, Isaac "it's not my fault my love language is Acts of Service and all I know how to do is kill" Moore, discussion of dead parents
~
For the third time in three days, Gavin woke with no collar around his neck. He woke with a soft mattress beneath him and a thick, warm blanket over him, and the golden late-September sun creeping into the window. The shades were pulled back, so that the sun could come in and so that he could see out, see that he wasn’t in a small windowless basement with stairs up to a single door, a high ceiling, and a gallows against one wall.
Most importantly, he woke next to the warm, strong body of the man who had saved him, and he told himself yet again like a fervent prayer that this wasn’t Schiester’s cruelest hallucination yet.
Gavin rolled closer to Isaac and tucked his head in the hollow of Isaac’s throat. He didn’t know if Isaac was awake, or if it was simple unconscious instinct that had Isaac’s arms drawing around him and holding him close, but he didn’t care. He breathed out a shaky sigh and allowed himself to be held. There was warmth, here, unlike anything he had ever felt in the depths of Schiester’s basement. Even with the blankets he had earned with his desperate, often false confessions, nothing had ever felt even close to this warm. It had only ever been the chill of the air and of Schiester’s gaze, and the fire of the cane, the knife, the beatings. Then the chill, again, of being so completely, utterly alone.
Tears wet the pillow beneath Gavin’s head, and he sniffled. He hadn’t meant to start crying.
A hand cradled his cheek, and he pressed his lips to Isaac’s palm. The tears flowed freely now. His face screwed up and he buried it against Isaac’s chest.
“Gavin?” Isaac’s chest rumbled against Gavin’s ear. Gentle fingers slid through Gavin’s short hair, and he shivered at the soft touch. It had been days of soft touch, of clean clothes, of a warm bed, of hot food… Surely Schiester wouldn’t let him feel this relief for days. The only price had been watching Isaac’s pain as he reeled from his memories of Rosa, watching Isaac as he struggled so, so hard not to punish himself for all the shame that threatened to crush him – and nearly losing his own life again at the hands of another specter with cold blue eyes.
But that was Edrissa, not Schiester. And Sam said they really don’t think she’s going to try again.
“Are you alright?” Isaac rasped, tilting Gavin’s face up so he could get a good look. Isaac’s eyebrows pulled together over dark eyes and darker circles beneath them. The kindness in his eyes, the concern, fully undid him. Gavin’s throat closed around a sob.
“No, look,” Isaac said, his own voice tight. He guided Gavin’s face up, tilted it so he was looking at the room, dimly lit by the sun. “This is real. You’re safe, Gavin, you’re—”
“N-no, I, I know,” Gavin whispered. “I think… I know.” Isaac let out a breath. “I’m just…” Gavin pulled Isaac close again, buried his face in his neck. Tears wet the collar of Isaac’s sleeping shirt. “I was just… so scared. So alone.”
“I know,” Isaac said brokenly.
“I thought was going to die,” Gavin whimpered.
“I kn-know,” came the reply. Isaac’s arms tightened around him.
“I thought… I thought I… I thought I broke you, I thought I made you hate me so much you’d l-leave me there…”
Count yourself lucky.
Ice clutched Gavin’s chest, threatened to drag him away from Isaac’s arms and down, down into the depths of Schiester’s basement again. It was always waiting for him, always there. He simply had to close his eyes and let himself be pulled in.
A hand, gentle as a kiss but strong as iron, slid under Gavin’s jaw and lifted his face until his eyes met Isaac’s again. Isaac’s lips trembled as he said, “I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry that he… that he ever made you feel that way. That he ever made it possible. But Gavin… no. No. You didn’t break me. And I could…” The hand on Gavin’s jaw began to shake. “I could never… leave you there, Gavin, I’m… sorry it took me so long to—”
“Don’t,” Gavin breathed, and shook his head. “Don’t.” He reached up and twined his fingers through Isaac’s, kissing each scarred knuckle. Gavin’s breaths were shaky and ragged, and Isaac’s matched his.
Gavin forced himself to draw in a slow breath through his nose.
In.
Out.
In.
Out.
Nothing smelled like Isaac in the basement, but Gavin could smell Isaac all around him now. It calmed him, slowed the stuttering beat of his heart. He scrubbed at the tears with his sleeve and met Isaac’s eyes again.
“I want to go outside again today,” he said with an uncertain smile.
Isaac’s lips curved up. “That sounds nice. Any particular place, or…?”
“Just outside,” Gavin said. “Anywhere. The town again, or…” He trailed off as Isaac’s smile froze. “Or the woods, maybe…”
“We can go into town,” Isaac said thickly. “We can, um…” He swallowed hard. His thumb rubbed along his forearm over his long sleeve, back and forth, and unconscious movement that made Gavin’s own scars itch. “If you want—”
“I don’t want to run into Rosa again,” Gavin said as he gently took Isaac’s wrist in his hand. Isaac went rigid and met Gavin’s eyes with a startled look. “I… that’s the last thing I want.”
Isaac swallowed hard and squeezed his eyes shut. “If we, um, r-run into her while we’re out, then—”
“I don’t want to run into her again if not allowed to kill her, Isaac,” Gavin said, as calmly as he could muster.
Isaac’s eyes flew open. His pulse raced under Gavin’s fingers. “S-sorry?” he mumbled.
“After what she did to you?” Gavin said, feeling rage coiling inside him like an injured predator. He thought his fury had been beaten out of him, cut out of him.
Not when it comes to my family. Not when it comes to Isaac.
He cleared his throat and took a steadying breath. “After what she… did to you,” he murmured, “I don’t want to see her again unless you’ll let me at her next time.”
“You could barely stand,” Isaac huffed, incredulous.
“I could have done damage,” Gavin said. His stomach roiled with bitter hatred for the woman who had looked at Isaac as he fell apart in front of her, because of what she had done to him, and laughed.
Laughed.
“You don’t know her,” Isaac said, shifting his gaze down. “She made me, um, who I am.”
“Bullshit she did, Isaac,” Gavin snapped. “She taught you how to handle a weapon and take inhuman amounts of punishment, and she cheated because you were already ready to do the second thing. And she couldn’t even beat you in a fair fight, so I think I stand a fair chance at half strength.”
“She can… but I…” Isaac shook his head as if dazed. “You’re not at half strength, Gavin.”
Gavin snorted, his eyes still blazing. “Fine. A quarter. My point still stands, she’s a fucking piss-ant weakling that couldn’t beat you with one arm tied behind your back, so you should have let me at least try while I had my shot at her. I don’t know if I’ll get another chance.”
Isaac’s brow furrowed. “Why do you keep… She’s not weak, she used to beat me every fucking night. She used to beat me into the fucking ground. And—”
“First off, that’s fucking horrifying, so I hope you registered what you just said.” Isaac opened his mouth, but Gavin kept going. “Second, how old were you when that was happening?”
Isaac blinked. “Um… I mean, I was… younger, but… even once I got a little older, she could still take me with the others, she could still—”
“So she could beat you as long as there were multiple other people you were fighting? Along with her?” Gavin’s head was beginning to throb.
“I mean… sometimes it was one-on-one with her, at the end of the night, when—”
“When you were tired?”
Isaac looked at Gavin helplessly. “I mean… yes, when I was tired, but sometimes you have to fight when you’re tired—”
“But I’m guessing she was always fresh when this happened.” Gavin’s jaw ached, too. He forced himself to relax it.
“I… I don’t remember, but… yeah, I guess she was fresh more often than not…?”
Gavin was shaking with rage. “Why didn’t you let me fucking kill this woman?” he breathed. “Who hurt you and used you and made you think, after all of this, that she was somehow stronger than you, so you were too scared to fight back against all of it?”
“I wouldn’t have fought back,” Isaac said as he shook his head. “I would have lost the family if I… if I ever…”
Gavin fell silent. He had no answer, no retort for the words that faded between them. Gavin had never fought back, either. He had never even considered it. He had been so young when his parents first made him afraid that he never remembered there being another option.
And, just like Isaac, he had been saved when his family cast him out when he failed to be what they made him.
“S-sorry,” Gavin rasped, and pressed his lips to Isaac’s scarred knuckles again. “I’m… I’m just… angry. At what she did to you.”
“Yeah,” Isaac said softly. “I’m getting that.”
“You’re not angry?” Gavin’s eyes flicked up to Isaac’s.
“Um…” Isaac wouldn’t meet his eyes. “I am. A little. But mostly there’s just… shame.” He seemed to be trying very, very hard not to press on the newest cuts on his forearms – the ones not left by Gavin, but by Isaac himself. “I mean… are you angry at your parents?”
“Yes,” Gavin answered, without hesitation. Then, “But… mostly for… what they did to you. The family.”
Isaac huffed and pressed a kiss to Gavin’s hair. “Feelings about the people who hurt us doesn’t ever seem to make much sense. I wasn’t angry at my mother for… years. I mean… I didn’t realize I felt anything but guilt for her until this year, and even then it’s… hard.”
“Yeah,” Gavin whispered. He drew in a deep breath and let it out.
“For what it’s worth, while we’re on the topic of parents and killing people,” Isaac said, “I know this might be… kind of a weird thing to say.” He gently cradled Gavin’s face and pressed their foreheads together. “But for what your parents did to you… I’m jealous that Vera got to kill both of them. Doesn’t seem fair.”
Grief, familiar and faded, washed through Gavin’s chest. A bitter laugh tightened in his throat. “That’s fair,” he said. “And definitely the most romantic thing you’ve said all morning.”
“I do what I can,” Isaac said with an equally tense laugh, but the arms around Gavin were careful and warm. Gavin fit into them like Isaac’s arms were home – the only home he’d ever known. All his parents’ homes, his warehouse in the east prairie, the Crayton house, the lake house – they had all been places he’d laid his head, but none of them had ever been home. The only place that he had ever rested, the only place he had ever found peace, was in the arms of the man who held him now – the arms of the man he thought he had broken a second time. Tears burned in his eyes again and he blinked them away. He didn’t want to spend the morning crying and angry. He wanted to spend the morning outside with the sun on his face and his hand twined with Isaac’s.
“I want to get up,” Gavin said softly, and pushed himself upright. “We don’t have to go into town, but… please, Isaac, let’s—”
“No, we can go into town,” Isaac said with a shaky smile. “If Rosa lives here, then… I’ll have to find a way to make peace with that. And if you want to go into town, then… for fuck’s sake, we’re going into town, and no one is going to stop us.” He leaned forward and brushed his lips against Gavin’s cheek. Gavin turned his head and caught Isaac’s mouth in a kiss that Isaac broke after only a moment.
Gavin’s smile faltered. “To town it is,” he said softly. “And then it would be good to visit with Vera and Tori?”
“Sounds like a plan,” Isaac said. He groaned as he rolled out of bed and stripped off his shirt. “We have some stuff to catch them up on.”
“Yeah,” Gavin said as he averted his eyes from Isaac’s scars. “Yeah, we do.”
Continued here
@womping-grounds ​, @free-2bmee ​, @quirkykayleetam ​, @walkingchemicalfire ​, @inpainandsuffering ​, @redwingedwhump ​, @burtlederp ​, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog ​ , @whatwhumpcomments ​, @whumpywhumper ​, @stxck-fxck ​, @whumps-the-word ​, @justplainwhump ​, @finder-of-rings ​, @inky-whump ​, @orchidscript ​, @inkyinsanity ​, @this-mightaswell-happen ​, @newandfiguringitout ​, @whumpkitty ​, @pretty-face-breaker ​, @pebbledriscoll ​, @im-just-here-for-the-whump ​, @endless-whump ​, @grizzlie70 ​, @oops-its-whump ​, @kixngiggles​, @1phoenixfeather ​ , @butwhatifyouwrite ​, @carnagecardinal , @whumpifi , @squishablesunbeam
39 notes · View notes
hey-that-hurt · 9 months
Text
And of course there’s the flipside of parent whump: child whump. Maybe the parent is captured or trapped, maybe the injuries are happening at a remote location too far away to reach but at least the news is telling them how badly their child is hurt. Maybe it’s a kidnapper sending cryptic messages leaving far too much to the imagination. Maybe they’ve both been kidnapped, and the kidnapper realizes far too quickly how to get the parent to cooperate.
Maybe things are strained, maybe both parent and child are adults now and they don’t talk like they used to but that‘s still the kid they raised and loved and maybe getting stabbed would be better than them getting hurt like this.
Maybe the child is a kid who happened to be in their proximity that they half heartedly took under your wing. And they thought they didn’t care, it’s not like this is their kid, except why then is one of the worst things they’ve ever experienced?
Maybe it’s a kid who was hurt, who had nobody, who they decided was their responsibility now. And they promised, they promised, that the kid would be safe. And what a horrible liar they are.
(Tag your favorite characters for this dynamic, I’m curious)
51 notes · View notes
roblingoblin285 · 1 year
Text
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
82 notes · View notes
lili-loves-whump · 9 months
Note
part three the difference plssssss im too emotionally attached
Ig so lol i like this series too
lili-loves-whump presents:
The Difference Pt. 3
1, 2
“What happened next?” Sidekick asked excitedly. They were lounging on the carpet in pjs, with a blanket thrown across them. 
Hero smiled softly, looking off towards the window. The sun was setting, turning red. They swept a strand of hair out of their eyes and pursed their lips. 
“Well, Sidekick,” they started, “like most, this is a story of tragedy, and death. Are you sure?”
Confusion clouded Sidekick’s eyes, but they nodded all the same. Hero smiled and took a deep breath. This part of the story was always the worst, they thought. 
“Well, the little kid left. They didn’t even sleep, just jumped out the window and ran into the night. There was a car, a red one, that swerved to miss them, but the kid couldn’t tell. They’d already caused the Villain pain- just like everyone else in their life. So they did the one thing they knew how to do. Run.
The kid ran, and ran, and ran. Through valleys and under trees. It was near morning by the time they stopped moving, choosing to collapse in a cornfield instead of continuing the steady walk-jog they’d kept through the late hours. 
It was hot, and the sun was up, high in the sky. The kid was hungry, pushing sticky strands off his forehead, glistening with half-dried sweat. Everytime they thought of their rumbling stomach, they remembered the cautious kindness of the Villain and teared up. So they ignored their need for food and decided to doze in the corn field.
When Villain woke up, they turned the house upside down looking for their missing child. The living room was destroyed before they remembered the night before.
When they did, they screamed. 
Why did you let the child go, they yelled at themselves, you should have made them stay, you sick son of a bitch. 
But the kid didn’t think of it like that- they thought they were sparing the Villain more pain. So they trudged on, tired from the heat, stomach growling under the hunger, through the corn field, towards the city border. 
They thought, if I can just get to the border, it’ll be fine, I can run away and never see Villain again. 
Their feet hurt, blistering from the walk. They’d shedded their shirt long ago, but when night arrived, they began to regret it. Cool breezes swept through the corn, and something croaked and rattled. 
Meanwhile, Villain knew that the child was gone, and began to cry again. They felt like they were overreacting, as the child was just a stranger. 
But the child was a child.
So, against everything, they went out looking. Scouring the city in the middle of the afternoon wasn’t ideal, but the kid had about 16 hours of a head start. They started towards the border instinctively, desperate to bring the kid home.”
27 notes · View notes