#Wound Recovery

[jadwoundcarellc]

For individuals recovering from surgery or injury, proper wound care is essential to healing. This is especially true when dealing with complex wounds such as ostomies. In wound care in Columbia, Maryland, specialists provide vital support in helping patients with ostomies manage their recovery effectively. Ostomy care is a critical aspect of wound recovery, as it ensures that the area around the ostomy remains clean, dry, and free from infection.

[firstchoicehha]

Providing effective wound care is crucial for the well-being and recovery of patients. Whether you’re a caregiver or a family member taking care of a loved one at home, understanding the principles of proper wound care is essential.

[allhomehealth]

Wound care is a critical aspect of healthcare that involves the proper management and treatment of wounds, injuries, and surgical incisions. Proper wound care can help promote faster recovery and other benefits.

[apexhumanservicesllc]

Healthcare has diversified to meet the varying needs of the public, and one of its pivotal aspects is skilled nursing. Skilled nursing and health services in Yeadon, Pennsylvania, provide an array of essential services, often serving as the backbone of comprehensive healthcare plans.

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee hasn’t realized they’ve been rescued. They fight the hands trying to stop the bleeding, wich resulted in them also having to hold them down.

Then there’s a voice. A familiar voice that could never be mistaken. Caretaker speaks just loud enough over the shouts saying “Eyes on me, nothing else matters, don’t look at them. Eyes on me.”

They would never see the blood; or how gruesome and horrific their wound actually was. They never saw the faces of the strangers who had no other goal other than keeping them alive. 

They only saw caretaker.  

[serickswrites]

Lie Still

@lurkingwhump gave me such a delightful idea for this little piece

Warnings: captivity, torture, restraints, blood, wounds, rescue, unconsciousness, bed side vigil, hospital, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

The world Whumpee lived in was hazy. Hazy and narrow. Logically they knew this meant they weren't going to live much longer, that Whumper had gone too far and cut too deep. Logically they knew that they were bleeding out and would be gone soon. But they were too tired and too cold to care.

They were so tired. They could barely keep their eyes open. Each time their eyes drifted closed, they knew they had to open them again. They couldn't let the last few moments of their life slip away with closed eyes. Even if the world was hazy.

Sounds were muffled and distorted. They thought they had heard Whumper talking to them. Then the sound of a fight. But that didn't make sense. Whumper had them all alone. There was no one else here. Perhaps their mind was playing tricks on them.

But their mind played the cruelest trick of all: Caretaker. They could hear Caretaker calling to them. They began to cry as they realized it was their dying brain trying to soothe them. To give them one last measure of comfort as they faded into oblivion.

"Whumpee, darling, it's ok, you're ok. I've got you," Caretaker murmured in Whumpee's ear.

Whumpee sobbed harder as they lay there, the hallucination of Caretaker stroking their hair as shadows moved in and out of their field of vision. Even though Caretaker was supposed to be a measure of comfort, it hurt Whumpee. Hurt worse than the pain of being cut open repeatedly by Whumper. Hurt more than any torture Whumper had done. Because Caretaker wasn't here, but Whumpee wanted them. Wanted them more than anything.

"Keep your eyes open, darling. You're doing so great. Please, come on. Look at me, Whumpee. I've got you."

Whumpee wanted to look at the hallucination. Wanted to listen to Caretaker's voice. Because even if Caretaker wasn't really here, they were soothed. As Whumpee let themself fade into oblivion, they could have sworn they heard their hallucination crying softly.

***

Caretaker froze the moment they entered into Whumper's torture chamber. Whumpee was restrained to a metal table in the center of the room, their abdomen and chest cut to ribbons, their blood flowing over the edges of the table and onto the floor. The floor was slick with Whumpee's blood.

"What did they do to you, Whumpee?" Caretaker muttered as they hurried over. The medic had called for them to hurry, that they weren't too late, but it was close.

They could see Whumpee was blinking slowly, their breathing shallow. Between the deep slash marks in their body and blood loss, Caretaker knew Whumpee was going into shock. And if they lost consciousness, Caretaker wasn't sure they would wake up. "I'm here, Whumpee."

Whumpee was unresponsive to their words. "Whumpee, darling, it's ok, you're ok. I've got you," Caretaker murmured in Whumpee's ear.

They were unsure where they could touch Whumpee. Between the team of medics working to stabilize Whumpee and all the injuries on their body, Caretaker wasn't sure where wouldn't hurt. They stroked Whumpee's hair and murmured in Whumpee's ear.

"Keep your eyes open, darling. You're doing so great. Please, come on. Look at me, Whumpee. I've got you."

It didn't matter how much they begged Whumpee to keep awake. They knew Whumpee wouldn't be conscious for much longer. Their only hope was that the medic had done enough to stop the bleeding to get Whumpee to the hospital.

But as they watched Whumpee's eyes close, no longer fluttering open, panic gripped Caretaker's heart. As Whumpee took a stuttering breath and went still beneath the medic's hands, Caretaker looked around, desperate to find any help.

"It's ok, Caretaker, I gave them something to make transport easier," the medic reassured Caretaker. "I'm going to try and dress some of these, it's going to hurt. I want them to be comfortable."

As Whumpee was whisked away from them, Caretaker tried to swallow past the lump in their throat. Whumpee would live. Whumpee had to live. Caretaker wouldn't be able to living in a world without Whumpee.

***

"What did they do to you, darling?" Caretaker whispered to the near silent room. They had taken up residence in the chair next to Whumpee's bed the moment the doctor said that they could. Whumpee hadn't woken yet, no one was sure when, or even if, Whumpee would wake up.

The only thing that told Caretaker that Whumpee was still alive was the whirring and hissing of the ventilator and the steady, regular beeps of the heart monitor. Whumpee was alive. Whumpee was alive. They weren't too late. They squeezed Whumpee's hand. "Please come back to me, darling. I'm here. I've got you. Please come back to me."

Death would not be good enough for Whumper. Caretaker was going to rip Whumper apart limb from limb the moment Whumpee was stable enough for them to leave. Caretaker couldn't risk leaving and having Whumpee fade away to nothing.

Caretaker's rage was nearly all consuming. To be angry, to be ready to destroy Whumper felt so much better than to give into the terror that had been gripping Caretaker's heart since they found Whumpee. Since they nearly lost Whumpee.

Whumpee was strong. They were a fighter. Caretaker kept reassuring themself that Whumpee would wake soon. That Whumpee would be ok. That they would heal. They wouldn't lose Whumpee. Whumpee would be ok.

Caretaker didn't want to imagine what would happen otherwise.

***

"Darling, you have to stay in bed," Caretaker urged Whumpee four days later.

Whumpee lay against the pillows, their face glistening with sweat. But they had the look of determination on their face that Caretaker knew was dangerous. "Darling, you are still so weak. Please, please lay back."

"I....I am tired of....being in bed." Whumpee's speech was still stilted, every word and effort for them to get enough breath to speak. Whumper had injured their lungs. Whumpee was determined to stand today. They pushed off again and tried to rise.

"Darling, you will tear your stitches. Please, lay back. For me?" Caretaker put a gentle hand on Whumpee's shoulder and guided them back down to the pillows.

Whumpee didn't want to admit it, but Caretaker was right. They were so exhausted. What little energy they had evaporated with their attempt to sit up in bed. "Maybe....maybe I....could nap....for a while."

Caretaker smiled softly at Whumpee. "I think that's a great idea, darling." Caretaker took Whumpee's hand in their and squeezed. "I'll watch over you. Rest, please, darling."

Whumpee's eyelids slipped closed as they could no longer fight the weight. "Love you," Whumpee muttered as sleep claimed them again.

"I love you, too," Caretaker said as they leaned down and kissed Whumpee's forehead.

Which is why they were going to end Whumper at the first opportunity they could. Caretaker knew that their colleagues wouldn't let them get close to Whumper. Wouldn't let them be alone in a room. Still, there was always the opportunity for something. Because death was not good enough for Whumper. Not after everything they put Whumpee through.

"Sleep, darling, I'll keep you safe. I'll always keep you safe. I love you so much, darling," Caretaker murmured again as they watched Whumpee relax into a deeper sleep.

[safe-haven-safe-place]

The School of Life

[steddieas-shegoes]

uh. what?

for @steddielovemonth prompt 'love is healing wounds'

rated m | 1,782 words | cw: injury recovery, mild blood, recreational drug use | tags: post s4, hurt/comfort, getting together, fade to black

💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖💖

The stitches pulled and he couldn't get comfortable. He almost wished Robin hadn't made him get checked over, but anything that required this many stitches probably would've killed him if he hadn't. At least that's what Nancy said when he complained to her about it.

But now, Steve couldn't sleep, and sleep was apparently very important for healing.

The alarm clock next to his bed said 2:07 am, so calling someone was out. Going somewhere was also out, unless he wanted to go to the 24 hour diner alone.

Fresh air sounded good until he realized he'd have to either go for a walk in the middle of the night alone or sit by the pool alone.

He didn't want to be alone.

His phone started to ring just when he was considering taking a shower out of boredom.

"Harrington residence, this is Steve."

"So formal for two in the morning, Stevie," Eddie's laugh rang through the line and Steve couldn't help smiling. Something about Eddie's energy was contagious, a beacon of light when all he had was the darkness of his room.

"Didn't know if it was an international business partner for my parents. Happens sometimes when they forget time zones." Steve moved to the edge of his bed so the cord didn't have to stretch as far. "What are you doing up?"

"Had a dream about being eaten alive again. This time they managed to eat both of my nipples." Eddie scoffed. "Isn't one enough?"

Steve chuckled. "And you can't go back to sleep because you're scared they'll come take your other nipple?"

"It's a genuine concern, Steve! I have big dreams of piercing this thing and if they take it from me, what do I have left?"

"I think you'd probably just find something else to pierce," Steve shook thoughts of what that might be out of his head before they could take over. "So you can't sleep. You thought you'd call and wake me up to suffer with you?"

Eddie was silent for a moment before responding. "Did I wake you up?"

"No," Steve said quickly, not wanting Eddie to feel bad. "I was awake."

"Nightmare?"

"No, stitches are bothering me."

"You wanna come over? I found my hidden stash. Might help with the stitches," Eddie offered.

Steve probably shouldn't. He was on some pain meds already and if he got too fucked up, he'd probably cry. That's what happened last time he had some of whatever Eddie was selling.

"I'll come over, but probably shouldn't have anything. Robin would kill me if I end up in the hospital," Steve gave a half-truth.

"Yeah, she's terrifying. I'll leave the door unlocked."

Before Steve could tell him that was a bad idea, he hung up.

********

When Steve got to Eddie's, he let out the breath he'd been holding the entire drive. Eddie was sitting on the porch, alone, his guitar by his side.

Maybe he'd been playing already, or maybe he planned to play to help distract Steve from the way his skin felt like it was too much.

He got out of the car and waved when Eddie looked over at him with a smile.

"Didn't think you'd get here so quick," Eddie didn't bother standing up, Steve just knew to go sit by him.

But the steps on the Munson's porch were rickety at best, "temporary" according to the government officials who had stuck them here because they didn't think it was worth putting them in a home across town, and Steve's eyes hadn't quite adjusted to the dull glow of the light by the front door. He missed the top step and immediately fell, barely catching himself on the wood of the porch.

Eddie was helping him up immediately, doing his best not to make his own injuries worse.

"Shit, you okay? Wayne tried fixing it, but it just keeps getting loose."

Steve felt a stinging pain on his side, and when his hand grazed over the worst of his bites, he felt something warm and wet on his fingers.

"Shit," without looking, he knew he'd torn his stitches. "Eddie, I need a towel or something."

"Shit, that's a lot of blood. That's a lot of blood. It shouldn't be that much, right? Like even tearing your stitches, it shouldn't be-"

"Eddie." Steve poked his arm, stayed as calm as he could. He bled easy, so sometimes even small things looked worse than they were. "Towel."

"Right, yeah. Should you come with me?" Eddie shook his head. "I mean can you move? Should you stay here?"

"I'll sit here until I have a towel. Don't wanna get blood on the carpet."

"Got it."

Eddie still seemed unsure about leaving him, but must have noticed how much blood was soaking through Steve's shirt and rushed inside. He was back in less than a minute, a black towel in his hand.

"It's clean. It's the one I usually use for my hair, but I didn't get to fold it from the dryer yet. Um, just put pressure on it."

Steve knew what to do, was used to putting pressure on wounds, but appreciated Eddie trying to triage it anyway.

"You got a needle and thread, right?" Steve asked once he took his shirt off and put pressure on the bite. It was already bleeding much less, a positive sign that maybe it wouldn't be too bad.

"I mean, I do. I don't have medical tools that have been sanitized properly."

"You have water to boil and vodka?"

"Steve. I'm not fucking performing a medical procedure on your stomach," Eddie shook his head. "Do you have a death wish or something?"

"I trust you."

The words hung heavy between them, despite the fact it wasn't exactly news to either of them. They'd been through it all together, why wouldn't he trust him?

"Okay, let's get inside and I'll get everything ready."

Getting inside was easier said than done. The bleeding had mostly stopped, but the pain had really started to set in and every breath felt like knives stabbing into him.

"Deep breath, Stevie," Eddie said as he sat him down on the couch and helped him lay back. "I'll get you something for the pain."

"Something" was an edible, and Eddie seemed hesitant to give it to him, but all reservations Steve previously had went out the window as he felt his hands shaking from the pain.

Eddie prepared everything while the edible kicked in, checking in with Steve every few minutes to make sure he hadn't passed out or started bleeding again.

When the room started to feel blurry and his head felt light, Steve smiled over at Eddie, who looked nervous.

"Ready for your magic hands," Steve wiggled his brows.

Eddie made a strangled sound before leaning over the wound and wiping some of the blood away gently so he could see where to stitch him back up.

He worked as quickly as possible, humming softly to distract himself and Steve from what was happening.

Steve was high.

He was high and he was feeling good despite the needle in his skin.

He drifted for a bit, couldn't be sure how long, but eventually, Eddie was touching his cheek and making him open his eyes.

"Think you should stand up so I can wrap a bandage on it. Then you can try to shower off some of the blood if you want. Wayne got one of those removable showerheads. Feels fancy," Eddie said as he moved the hair off of Steve's face.

"Help?" Steve managed to ask.

"Yeah, I can help you with the wrap and start the shower for you," Eddie nodded.

"In the shower?" Steve asked.

Eddie paused. "I can keep us dressed?"

"But." Steve huffed. "Blood."

Eddie couldn't help but laugh at his confusion, Steve's lips pouting out and his eyes squinting. "Okay, okay. If you're okay with it, I'm okay with it. You're high as shit, man."

"I'm standing right on the ground," Steve waved his arms around him. "Or is the ground standing on me but the other way?"

"God, this is the best. Okay, let's go."

"Wait!" Steve grabbed Eddie's arms. "You should know something."

Eddie raised his brows in question. "Go on."

"I'm very in love with you. And also kinda hard."

Eddie blinked, not processing. Now he felt high.

"Uh. What?"

"I have an erection." Steve made a disgusted face. "Hate that word. Sounds so middle school sex ed."

"It is." Eddie shook his head. "I guess I meant more like, how and why and what the hell do you mean by it."

Steve giggled. "I said you had magic hands and I was right."

"Dude, I was literally giving you stitches. I am failing to see why that would make you hard."

"It's cuz you're so gentle and your tongue sticks out when you're trying to focus. And also I started thinking about what you'd do if I couldn't move," Steve sighed dreamily. "You have handcuffs."

"Okay. Let's pause." Eddie let out a small hysterical laugh. "You want me to help you in the shower because you love me? Do you even need help?"

"Probably. But I also want help. And also you're a helper for me."

"What does that even mean? Where's Robin when you need her to decode what the hell you're talking about?"

"You're a helper for me! Because you help me be better about asking for help! And then you help!"

"Okay, that's. Good. I'm still not sure what's happening."

"You're gonna help me shower. I'm gonna try very hard not to come. We sleep?" Steve looked around Eddie out the window, like he was checking if it was still night time. "And then in the morning I wake up and get yelled at by Robin."

"Why would she-"

"The stitches. And the telling you I love you thing. She's gonna be real mad about that."

"Why?" Eddie felt like he was losing it. What was even happening anymore? How had he completely lost control of the night?

"She wanted to help me do a speech thing."

This was just getting more wild.

Steve needed a shower, and he needed sleep. Eddie needed a minute to gather his own thoughts.

"Shower. Sleep. Talk in the morning." Eddie raised his hand to cup Steve's neck. "Robin murders you after we talk."

"Deal." Steve's face sank, but he quickly perked back up. "But shower?"

"Yes, shower. Go, horndog."

Steve laughed as he half-limped to the bathroom, clearly feeling some pain even with the drugs in his system. Eddie followed and resisted touching Steve as much as possible.

Which ended up being about two minutes.

[mellosdrawings]

For the wings au... is there no uhhh. Safer?? Way to remove the wings like idk a surgery? Jamils family seems to (in some form cus I'm sure there's a better way) choose the painful and shitty health method of knife cutting like, every year?month? Like it sucks anyways but come on the health issues...

Anyways the art is amazing and it hurts so gooood

Oh, there would definitely be safer ways.

But they would leave traces. Official surgeries and all that involve a lot of time, paperwork and money, especially for a thing that has to be repeated very regularly.

And the Viper's problem is that NOBODY can know. Words travel fast, especially amongst servants. Should anybody figure out something is going on with them, that could bring problems to the whole family without a single feather having to be seen.

So secrecy it is. And pain.

For their safety.

(I'm glad you enjoy this series <3)

[mj-iza-writer]

Inspired by @weirdthingweee

WHUMPTOBER Day 2

Trust Issues - Amusement Park - Role Reversal - "You got away with the crime while the knifes in my back" (Charlotte Sands, Rollercoaster)

Whumpee's friends had talked Caretaker into letting them take Whumpee out for the day.

Caretaker begrudgingly let them go, believing they wouldn't do anything too stupid. They were still healing from being recently released from the hospital after a bad car accident and surgery.

They may not have been the smartest bunch, but they weren't stupid... right?

Whumpee now looked wide-eyed at the roller coasters surrounding them.

"Uhm, I don't think Caretaker would have agreed had they known that this was your plan", Whumpee looked at their friends while they rubbed their hidden stitches on their stomach, "I-I don't know if my body will han..."

"Oh come on Whumpee, this was our favorite thing to do only a few months ago. You weren't held hostage in the hospital for that long, you'll be fine", their friends excitedly slapped them on their shoulder.

Whumpee winced as a huge bruise was still healing on that shoulder.

"Uhm... c-can we start small and work up?", Whumpee looked at some of the rides.

"But your favorite ride is right here... with no line", one of the friends grabbed Whumpee's hand and pulled them along.

"I-I don't know about this", Whumpee frowned.

Whumpee held on tight during the ride. They didn't feel the same excitement they had felt in the past. Actually they felt very sick.

The ride caused every part of their body to hit against the seat. It felt as though every bruise and cut was being hit again and again.

Whumpee stumbled off of the ride and straight to the trash can.

Their friends frowned as they watched Whumpee throw up.

"What happened to you?", they questioned, "you loved that ride."

"I feel like I was getting beat up", Whumpee gasped as they looked up, "that accident... I don't have the same body as I once had. I got hurt really bad... you all don't even know about everything yet."

Whumpee felt their shirt getting wet, they looked down and saw red.

"No no no", they felt under their shirt, "Caretaker's going to kill me, then all of you", they pulled their hand out and showed that it was covered in blood, "my stitches came undone."

"Stitches?", their friends stared dumbfoundedly at them.

"What do you think happened to me?", Whumpee winced.

"We didn't think anything happened to you", their friends stared fearfully as the blood soaking Whumpee's shirt, "we just thought Caretaker was being dramatic and overprotective, like normal."

"No, I had to have a major surgery", Whumpee started to shake weakly.

"What's happening?", their friends watched helplessly.

"I-I need Ca...", Whumpee fell to their knees, "help."

Caretaker hurried to the hospital.

Whumpee's friends explained their mistake and what had happened.

Caretaker was fuming, they walked past the group and to the information desk with the nurses.

The friends cowarded away when Caretaker finally looked back at them. Caretaker's death stare pierced them sharply.

"We are so dead", one of them whispered after Caretaker disappeared down the hall.

Whumpee was laying on their side in the feadle position when Caretaker came in. Caretaker was happy to see that Whumpee was asleep.

Caretaker set a few of their things down, then sat down next to the bed.

They gently moved some of Whumpee's hair to the side. This caused Whumpee to squint their eyes open.

"Caretaker?", Whumpee whispered.

"I'm here", Caretaker leaned up closer, "I got you."

"I told them I didn't want to do it, they didn't believe me", Whumpee whispered again.

"I already know, they told me everything that happened. It's safe to say you are not allowed to go with them until you are completely healed. Honestly, I don't think you are allowed to leave my sight for a while", Caretaker cupped Whumpee's face.

Whumpee nodded slightly, "I just wanted to hang out like what we use to. They didn't listen to me when I said no."

Caretaker nodded, "yes Whumpee, I know", Caretaker leaned in closer, "you did a good job voicing your needs and setting your boundaries. Your friends didn't listen to you, and that is their fault, not yours."

Whumpee winced, "they had to restitch me. I think I broke my stitch after throwing up. It felt like I was being beaten up while on the ride. Everything got justled around just like in the accident. I don't know if I'll ever be able to ride on a roller-coaster again. Not the way I use to, at least. It reminds me too much of what happened."

"I know Whumpee, but you never know. You do like roller coasters, but if you don't want to, then you don't have to. Just don't give up on it", Caretaker smiled, "the nurse says they are monitoring for any infections. You also bled out quite a bit, so they are monitoring you. You'll have to stay for the night."

"I don't want to though. I've had enough of being in the hospital", Whumpee whined.

"I know Whumpee. It's just for tonight. You should be out by tomorrow. We can get lunch out tomorrow on our way home", Caretaker played with Whumpee's hair a little more, "then we can go home, and you can rest in your bed. I'm recording your show so we'll be able to watch it together."

"I'd like that", Whumpee smiled weakly, "it definitely hurts to have to get restitched."

"I can imagine", Caretaker nodded.

"So you're not mad?", Whumpee whispered with an inch of dread, "I thought you were going to kill me."

"Oh trust me, I am absolutely fearious that this happened. Especially after I warned all of you", Caretaker watched Whumpee's face change to a more timid look, "but, I'm not mad at you. Just those idiots out in the waiting room."

"So speaking of rest. You need to rest up", Caretaker stood and pulled up the blanket to cover Whumpee, "rest will get you to feeling better."

Caretaker sat next to Whumpee's bed while they slept.

A few of Whumpee's friends peaked in.

"Caretaker?", one whispered.

Caretaker looked up at them and frowned.

They stood and made their way out of the room.

"Why are all of you still here?", Caretaker spoke above a whisper.

"We wanted to see Whumpee and see if they were okay", their friends tried to look in, but was blocked by Caretaker, "we didn't know they had had surgery. We wouldn't have done that if we knew."

"You all didn't need to know about the surgery. It was up to Whumpee on who knew, and they do not like talking about the accident. Your mistake was not allowing Whumpee to set their boundaries and say no. No means no."

The friends looked at the floor shamefully.

"You may visit them again in a few days. After they've been home and rested. You will have to wait until they have fully recovered before I let them out of my sight. You all have disappointed me", Caretaker sighed and looked at Whumpee, "and them. You may go home, I will let you know when they are ready for visitors."

"Caretaker?", one of them looked up from floor, "can't you cut us some slack... we truly didn't know."

Caretaker moved to the side, "look at them."

The friends shyly glanced in at Whumpee.

"They said no. That should have sufficed. You didn't need to know anything else. No is a full sentence", Caretaker frowned, "now I'm saying no, Whumpee deserves respect. They need to rest now. Go home, and we'll let you know when they're ready to see you."

Whumpee heard Caretaker come back in and sit down.

They didn't open their eyes until they felt a wet cloth wipe across their forehead, then dab on the corners of their mouth.

"Hey sleepy head. You were drooling a little", Caretaker smiled, "do you want some water?"

Whumpee nodded, "that was cold... what you told them. I appreciate you saying it though."

"Perhaps, but I could have been meaner", Caretaker set the cloth down.

"True", Whumpee whispered before Caretaker offered them a drink.

Caretaker grinned and winked at Whumpee when they stopped drinking.

"Visiting hours are about up", Caretaker sat down on the edge of the bed, "so I'll have to head out soon. I'll be up here tomorrow a little before lunch. If they are not ready to release you yet, I'll see if I can bring you something special to eat. Sound alright?"

"Yes Caretaker, but do you think they'll let me go now?", Whumpee whispered, "I don't really want to be here anymore. I want to go home and not be alone."

"I'm sorry Whumpee, but you need to stay here at least for tonight. You can call me anytime if you feel lonely", Caretaker gently moved their fingers through Whumpee's hair, "I'll have my phone on and near me all night. Even if you want to text me anything. I promise I'll be right back tomorrow."

Whumpee stuck out a pouty lip.

"Don't do that", Caretaker smiled as they poked Whumpee's lip back in, "you'll be just fine. Plus your favorite nurse and doctor are here tonight with you. So you'll be in great care. You may even get an extra pudding cup tonight because you're their favorite patient."

"Already on it", a nurse called from down the hall.

Whumpee giggled.

"See", Caretaker chuckled, "you wouldn't get that at home."

Whumpee nodded, "thankyou for taking care of me. I'm sorry I got hurt again."

"You're welcome. Don't worry about that", Caretaker sighed, "just gives me more time to take care of you."

Whumpee smiled.

The nurse came in a little after Caretaker left.

Whumpee was sitting up in the bed looking out the window.

"Hey" they stood at the side and set two pudding cups down, then a side of whipped cream, "as promised, and I remembered how much you like your whipped cream."

"Thankyou so much", Whumpee smiled as they looked at the pudding.

"You're welcome", the nurse smiled as they did a little check on the machines and documented blood pressure, "you are one of my favorite patients, Caretaker was right on that."

Whumpee smiled, "thankyou. You're one of my favorite nurses."

"I'm glad. Alright so here is the remote if you want to watch something. Enjoy your snack", the nurse handed over the remote.

Whumpee felt their phone vibrate later that night.

"Hey, I do hope you are asleep by now, but if not, please do try to get some sleep. I will be their tomorrow to see you. I love you, goodnight", Caretaker had texted, "oh, my phone is on me as well if you need me tonight."

"I'm on my way to bed right now. Sorry I completely forgot, and lost track of time", Whumpee texted back, "I love you too, goodnight."

Taglist. As always please let me know if you want to be added or taken off of the list. It's not a problem at all.

@villainsandheroes @the-beasts-have-arrived

@sacredwrath @porschethemermaid

@monarchthefirst @generic-whumperz

@bloodyandfrightened @freefallingup13

@notpeppermint @cyborg0109

@idontreallyexistyet @painfulplots

@whumpbump @everythingsscary

@skittles-the-whumpee @expressionless-fr

@theforeverdyingperson @legendarydelusiongoatee

@candleshopmenace @whumpanthems

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@deafeninglittlecrown

[mishy-mashy]

Got my hands on a Ultra Analysis BNHA book from a library

Some points I liked (I focused more on 1B since they don't get a lot of attention)

1B once had a Tetsutetsu BBQ. They heated him up and cooked food on him. He proceeds to ruin it when he declares his sweat is the salt to their food

Yui is canonically the prettiest first-year

Mineta has no sex appeal at all, but he thinks being a hero will make him lucky

Class B does respect Monoma. He's sharp-minded, witty, and has a way with words

Monoma sometimes wanders into 1A's dorm just to throw down a mean speech, and heads back to 1B

Juzo probably isn't helping Monoma's confrontations with 1A, since he just always asks him why he can't say it to their faces whenever Monoma complains about them

Shiozaki tries to be polite even in a fight

Pony hosts anime parties, so 1B knows a lot about anime. Vice-versa, they teach her Japanese, and everything nasty is Monoma's fault

Tokage was a gyaru

Tsuburuaba, Kaibara, and Kuroiro get worked up whenever they talk about girls

Manga likes Kenranzaki

Awase's family runs a small factory. He also restrains Monoma whenever Kendo isn't available

1B likes hearing Rin say "Aiyah", so he does it for them

Kamakiri is obsessed with cutting into things

Class B's play was really successful

Tamaki is scared of Kirishima's energy

1C was planning a send-off party for Shinsou for his upcoming hero transfer. They didn't doubt he would make it, ever since the Sports Festival

Shishikura (meatball Shiketsu boy) might've chosen Shiketsu because he likes the uniform's hat

Nakagame and Yo are dating

Tsuyu's family gets to spend a lot of time together now, since their parents' busy jobs have calmed down

Tsubasa (devil wing kid in Midoriya's memories) suspiciously lost touch with Midoriya and Bakugo in middle school (his Wiki page confirms Garaki - his grandfather - turned him into a Nomu)

Torino likes goofy gags. This rubs off on All Might (ex. when Midoriya thought he died when Torino fell with ketchup. People don't know whether to laugh or be concerned)

Nighteye has yellow streaks in his hair as a homage to All Might

Nezu likes worming into tight, dark places, so he likes Aizawa's scarf. They went into detail, describing why Nezu likes it, such as material to crawling in, etc.

Recovery Girl has to travel around Japan regularly to help people with her Quirk (as in, she uses her Quirk to help them. Healing Quirks are SO rare)

Hojo, Tabe, and Sestuno are kept in the same jail, so at least they're not separated

[paingoes]

Rubies - Midnight

do you guys remember when destroyer would update every day 💔

(Content: living weapon whumpee, blood, night terrors, wound care, past abuse, mentions of war, conditioning, emotional whump, comfort)

His breathing hitched before he’d come back to consciousness. 

A hand steadied him, kept him from leaning further off the precipice than he already was. 

It was a strange feeling to wake up with his eyes already open. The little murmurs he’d been giving ceased so that the only sound was of cautious inhale.

Blood dripped down his arm.

Levon was bent down in front of the bathtub. His lip was busted open. Another small cut immediately on the side of his neck. His head was down as he worked; the injuries were not immediately visible. Delta only saw them as Levon finally tilted his head up. His eyes had gone all soft.

“Up now?” He mouthed. Delta nodded slowly.

His fingers moved delicately over the bleeding crook of Delta’s forearm as he wound the rest of the bandage.

With the bleeding finally stopped, Levon rose to his feet. He used the still-intact bathroom mirror to guide his own work, placing a smaller adhesive over the cut on his own neck. 

Delta’s eyes widened in horror at the realization. He flinched back belatedly, though Levon wasn’t anywhere near him anymore. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispered, covering his mouth.

Levon shrugged him off. “I’ve had worse.”

Delta started to drop to his knees again, sliding off the rim of the bathtub and down onto the tile. 

“No.” Levon caught his shoulder before he could finish, lightning quick. Delta reluctantly sat back up on the edge of the tub. He looked down. There were still small shards of glass on the floor.

“Stay,” Levon told him. He released his grip on his shoulder just as soon as Delta had steadied, then slipped out the bathroom door. It didn’t take him long to return, thankfully. Delta would have waited all night if he’d asked. 

Levon dropped the slippers onto the floor in front of him. Delta pulled them on. He took the hand that was offered to him, rising gingerly to avoid the shards.

His room was destroyed. The dresser had been knocked over, its broken mirror the source of all the shards. The air still felt electrified within the small space. Scorch marks painted on the wall. 

He remembered the way he’d collapsed into Simon’s arms when he’d finally gotten the chain unlocked, too freezing and exhausted to do anything else. How he’d been led, shaking, out of the wreckage of his room. Simon had directed his steps. He’d leaned so heavily on him. At the time, he could hardly see. Three months ago now.

Levon guided him out of the doorway. Delta noticed he had to duck a bit to pass underneath it. He did not ask where they were going. He didn’t think he had the right after that.

But it was no great distance to walk to. Levon pushed open the door to his office, holding it open for him very cordially. Delta froze at the threshold, doing all he could to bite back the sharp betrayal. It had been an accident. He’d promised not to hurt him. And Levon was so much stronger than him. Even if he went easy on him, it would not be easy. His chest tightened. He didn’t know why. It didn’t used to.

Delta entered anyway, too amenable to hesitate for long.

The inside was larger than he’d expecting, seeming to consist of multiple rooms. Everything within was of fine jewel tones. The main office was immediately visible with its mahogany desk and expensive looking interface. But Levon passed through a doorway on the left wall instead. The leftmost room was wider, and arranged more like a lounge. It was all older furniture. He wondered how long they’d been running operations here, just when they’d moved in. This room in particular felt very lived in.

Delta sat down obediently in the chair he’d been indicated. He felt himself relaxing by a small margin. Levon had promised not to hurt him. It was only the dream haze that had made it seem like he was. Still, as his eyes traced the bandage on Levon’s neck, he felt a sharp pang of guilt, the sense he was getting off too easily.

Levon disappeared through another doorway. He called from out of sight.

“Have you tried wood tea before?”

“No, sir,” Delta answered, fairly certainly he hadn’t been heard, but unwilling to raise his voice any higher. 

Levon emerged with two cups anyway. He placed them down carefully onto the coffee table, which looked to be made of a kind of fossilized wood. Small gems shone along the surface. The liquid itself was cloudy and purple.

“Minor analgesic qualities.” Levon winked at him. “Got a sweetheart deal with the traders at Moab’id. Had to buy it all in bulk, cause there’s no other way to get it this far out.”

Delta straightened up a little, taking it gratefully, if a bit bashfully. There was something undeniably intimidating about having Levon’s attention. He didn’t know how he was supposed to act under it. The captain stepped back, leaning one folder arm against the back of an emerald armchair.

“Have you ever been?” Levon asked.

“Yes, sir.” He had, actually. About two years ago.

“Oh, yeah? What part?”

“By the cape,” he admitted apologetically. It was the most war-torn zone of the planet, the exact place he would’ve expected him to be. Levon had the decency not to react. 

“What did you think?” He asked instead, all caught up in the fond memory of it. He surely did not get to see the inside of Empire’s boundaries very often. They had orders to kill him on sight.

“…It was hot,” Delta took a careful sip of the drink mixture, “The people there were nice, though. We went during the pagan holiday. They were still celebrating, even with everything that was going on.”

He remembered the air had smelled distinctly of orchid and ozone. The tea here was floral, heady. He drank slower.

“I’m sorry for bothering you,” Delta said quietly, the guilt suddenly returning. It was the middle of the night. He was taking advantage of a kindness he hadn’t by any means earned. “I can clean up the room. I’m sorry.”

Again, Levon waved him off. 

“No bother. I was already up,” he changed the subject, “You’ve probably been all around, huh?”

Delta nodded. It didn’t feel that way. He was only there on work — and the long stretches of time spent in deep space were what dominated his mind. But he’d been to hundreds of planets, even if the hour was never dedicated to sightseeing.

“You have any favorites?”

“Kyro,” Delta answered immediately. He always preferred the colder climates. “It looks dead from space, because its star is a white dwarf now, but it has a geothermal vent network that maintains the whole marine ecosystem there. Some of the cephalopods can actually get to the size of buildings because food is so abundant.”

He was rambling. He didn’t know why. He shut himself up just as soon as he realized, an embarrassed flush rising to his face. He bowed his head down in apology.

Levon had sat down in the chair opposite, lightly rocking his leg against back and forth. The next question would have caught him off guard any other day, but the peaceful curiosity in Levon’s voice had disarmed him. This late at night, all the edges of the world felt soft.

“What was it like?”

Delta bit his lip, tapped anxious claws along the ceramic. It was pleasantly cool in the room, despite all its warm colors. How could he possibly answer? 

“Boring,” was, for some reason, the first thing that came to mind, “So much of it was just waiting.”

Waiting until he was needed. Waiting until they noticed him standing there, until he was allowed to speak. Waiting for the enemy. Waiting for the blowback. Waiting for the real moment of truth, when the collar would click off, when everything revealed itself in the hazy white glow. He was always waiting for the revelation.

“Months of boredom punctuated by moments of terror?” Levon asked playfully.

That was about right. He had been the terror. They never let him close enough to the frontlines to really feel their horror. It was an advantage of the remote system and for that he was grateful. He couldn’t imagine being in the thick of it, being there physically. He didn’t want to. He liked how high up his cage had been. He was spoiled in that sense.

Delta again moved to brush his hair back in the familiar, nervous gesture. Again, he was surprised when his hands only met empty space. He’d grow it out again, probably, when he was sure he could take care of it. He played with the fabric his shirt collar instead, though he was careful not to move too far up and graze the silver collar flush against his skin. He’d gotten his knuckles rapped just for touching it, even when he was just trying to stop the chafing.

He immediately pulled his hands back into his lap as he saw Levon’s eyes darken. He was looking at the collar, his thoughts apparently drifting in the same direction. 

“Is it uncomfortable?” Levon asked. 

“No, sir,” he lied. It was less bulky than the golden collar had been, but it was still unpleasantly tight. It was hard to sleep in.

“But would you tell me if it was?” Levon tilted his head, then smiled to see the guilty expression that crossed Delta’s face. There was a bit of a sadness in the smile.

“You pretend it’s all the same to you, even when it isn’t. You have preferences. Just because you’ve been trained to ignore them doesn’t mean they’re not there. Though I guess I can’t begrudge you that.”

The hint of sadness in his voice now became overt. His eyes traced the collar again.

“It must not feel very different to you.”

Delta flinched to have him address it, the little moments of déjà vu that always flashed right before his eyes. The uneasy way the board watched him movements, waiting for any sign he might snap. The collar on his neck. The lock on his door.

Yet it all felt very different. There were no words for how different it felt.

“No,” Delta argued, surprising himself, “It does.”

Levon laughed softly, without any of the sadness leaving his voice, “You’re being very patient with us. I appreciate that.”

“You’re being patient with me,” Delta countered. 

Levon sat up in the seat a little bit, eyes growing wide with concern at the sudden emotion in Delta’s voice. It sounded like he was close to choking up. But he got it back under control. 

He took another sip of the tea. The night was making him too bold, maybe. Or maybe that was just what Levon did to people. Either way, he had to ask.

“Why don’t you want me?” 

Levon looked at him with a new seriousness, his voice dropping, “What did I say?”

Not to offer again. Not to even suggest it. Delta flinched. He’d disobeyed direct orders to his face. He kept his voice soft, as if that might soften the blow.

“It could end the war,” he insisted, looking down at his hands.

It hadn’t worked for Paris, of course. But it could’ve. In his heart, he knew it could have. If they just played their cards right, they could’ve ended the war in a year.

Levon sighed, thankfully not seeming too upset about his rejection of the order. He had a note of indulgence in his manner when he spoke again.

“Do you know what proliferation is?” Levon asked.

Delta nodded, blushed. He knew where this was going, but Levon explained anyway.

“Say we did use you, the way you’re clearly dying to be used. And say we did win. Then what? We emerge as the new dominant power and we have you to thank for it. So that the next time there’s a war, people know what they need to win it. They want something like you.”

His eyes narrowed dangerously. Delta, arrogant as he knew it was, took issue with the idea that there could be anything like him at all. Levon went on anyway.

“There’s no reverse button on that kind of escalation. The last two years have been massively destabilizing on a galactic scale. I say this with love, Delta, and it’s nothing against you personally, but my dream is that everyone forgets you even existed.”

Delta thought of all the burnouts and the ones who had their bodies stolen from them. He felt a sudden tug of anxiety at his heart. Levon was right, of course. It was the kind of fear he had a lot in the beginning. But somewhere along the line it faded. He had forgotten just how reckless it all was. The track had already been cleared for an arms race.

“Okay,” he said softly, because for some reason the disappointment still did not go away. 

Levon considered him for a moment. He readjusted in the chair, tilted his head.

“I don’t think you really want it,” Levon said. “You feel like you do now. But in a few months you won’t. You’ll forget too.”

He didn’t want to forget. He didn’t know what he wanted. 

He took another sip of the tea, drawing his legs up onto the chair protectively.

Levon stood up, crossing over to one of the glass cabinets. He removed an ivory-colored object — it was a horn, whittled out into the shade of an ocarina. Its ends were in-laid with gold.

“Tunicin horn,” Levon smiled softly, readjusting his fingers along the side of it. 

He played a low vibrato. The notes were soft, spacious. Calming, even when Delta felt the urge to resist any sedation. He was worn out in every possible sense. 

Levon let the last note fade into the corners of the room. 

“Do you want to see?”

Delta nodded slowly, taking what was offered to him. He tested a few notes, some lapsed knowledge of music theory returning to him. He could tell it was a heirloom. He was careful where he touched it. But after a few tries, he was able to play.

~~~

tags:

@catnykit @snakebites-and-ink @scoundrelwithboba @whatwhump

@pumpkin-spice-whump @deluxewhump @fuckass1000 @fuckcapitalismasshole @defire

@micechomper @writereleaserepeat @aloafofbreadwithanxiety @floral-comet-whump @littlebookworm69

@lordcatwich @human-123-person @paperprinxe @whomeidontknowthem @chiswhumpcorner

@bacillusinfection @dietofwormsofficial @ichortwine @whump-queen @lumpywhump

[lovefilledwords]

Mother, as in: the first person I loved. The first person to break my heart. The wound that never stops bleeding. The wound. Oh, god, the wound. It's been twenty years, how is it still bleeding?

Mother, I know I was born from your blood. But when will I have bled enough to make up for it?

[fractal-unfoldment]

If rejection, desertion, or betrayal played a part in your loss, it is not just your sense of security that has been shattered but your belief in yourself, your sense of self-worth.

Susan Anderson, The Journey from Abandonment to Healing

[jordanstrophe]

Whumpee’s rushed to the hospital alone and wounded. All of their possessions are gone or destroyed; even their clothes are bloodied and torn apart.

They have nothing.

They feel like nothing.

When they awaken next, caretaker nudges into the room with a bag filled with seemingly random things. A blanket, pillow, mug, a change of clothes for as soon as they’re able; all just to make them feel like a person again. 

Now when they bring them a drink, It’s no paper cup. It's a mug.

Their mug.

[serickswrites]

Up on the Housetop

Warnings: referenced torture, wounds, hurt/aftermath, hurt/comfort, caretaker and whumpee

Whumpee was exhausted. They had to be. Caretaker knew they had to be exhausted. Caretaker themself was exhausted, and so Whumpee had to be too.

But no matter how much Caretaker tried to coax Whumpee to rest, to sleep and recover, Whumpee wouldn't. They lay awake in the bed, moaning quietly. Their sweat soaked brow as feverishly hot and Caretaker began to worry that Whumpee was hurting themself further.

"Darling, you need to sleep. It's the only way your body is going to be able to heal everything from..." Caretaker let their voice trail off at seeing the terror fill Whumpee's eyes again.

"From Whumper. You can say it," Whumpee croaked. They stared at Caretaker with fever bright eyes. "I....I can't sleep."

"You can, darling. I'm here. You're safe. I'll watch over you. I promise. Please, please just let yourself rest. For me?"

Caretaker felt guilty as Whumpee nodded. They knew every time Whumpee shut their eyes they were reliving what Whumper did to them. But they needed to rest. It was the only way their body was going to heal. "It's ok. I'm here. You're safe. I'll watch over you," Caretaker repeated softly. They rubbed soothing circles on Whumpee's palm as they watched Whumpee slowly fall into a fitful sleep. "You'll be ok," Caretaker whispered again as they watched over Whumpee. Whumpee had to be ok. They just needed time.

Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump

@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe

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