#complete recovery
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Jesus Lord of Lords
Jesus is the greatest Healer of all Healers. Imagine the statue of Jesus in Brazil, it might have started with a dream that was evil, A witchcraft dream. How to heal this mess in the dream world now? Jesus spoke to Jeremiah in the Old Testament time to heal this problem. 8 Yes, this is what the Lord Almighty, the God of Israel, says: “Do not let the prophets and diviners among you deceive you.…
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#ai#bible#Coding Church#complete recovery#faith#God#Hope#Jerem#Jeremiah 29:13#Jeremy#Jesus#Pearl Jam#salvation#salvation from occult#spinnekop.co.za#the African elephant#The Harvest Field#the-harvest-field.org#Troy
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The Gang Recycles Their Old Jokes Trash
↳ S8E02
#iasip#sunny 8#recycles their trash#parallels#kinda lol ? spoof parallels?#im not gonna tag every other episode in this you get it#side note my harddrive crashed and completely corrupted while making this so#rip me#iam spending $50 on a new harddrive and $50 on recovery software hoping i can at least get all my episodes back#fingers crossed lol#OC
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#remembered im sterilized and im so happy YAAAAY my post op appt is tomorrow#the glued is almost completely gone from my right incision and barely coming off more on the left#and the little dot is still covered in glue....too nervous to rub at it#a doodley#happy and i have fotos but also on some level im still like what if he didnt do it and i imagined the recovery pain. what if they grow back#somehow. idk. nervous#lets shoot for a hysterectomy next then
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recovering whumpees with:
a black eye and accompanying bruise that covers nearly half their face.
a split lip that keeps reopening and is impossible to keep bandaged.
a lacerated eyebrow, drawing attention to the wound with every slight change of facial expression.
a distinctive limp that has gotten so bad that co-workers or family members have started to tease them for it, because they don't know the true source of the original injury.
a chronic flinch when someone near them moves into their space unexpectedly or too quickly.
deep purple bruises on their back, from being hit repeatedly with the same blunt object on the same spot.
choke-marks and fingerprint shaped bruises around their neck that they try to hide under a scarf or high-neck sweater.
a broken bone that can't be kept in a sling or cast, which they unconsciously cradle when they think no one is watching them.
dizzy spells that rise up and cloud their vision because they still can't bring themself to eat normal meals after what happened.
nightmares of being trapped in the moment where everything went so horribly wrong, and daydreams of going back to that moment and being the perpetrator instead of the victim.
#whump#hurt/comfort#wounds#injuries#I love the post-whumping recovery period where things are visually Not Right#no matter what kind of stoic or calm or unaffected face whumpee tries to paper over it with#love a whumpee who is trying to work through the pain too#literally just filling all their hours with work so that they won't have to think about what happened to them#and it's quite obvious to everyone that they need to go home and rest for a week or better yet go on a tropical vacation for a month#but whumpee refuses to ease off the gas pedal because the only thing between them and a complete nervous breakdown is the huge pile of Work#whump prompts
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i've said it before and i'll say it again, i cannot express how helpful keeping a list of the activities, people and things that help you feel at peace can be for your healing.
when you're feeling disjointed take the list out, how long ago since you last had a conversation with someone that makes you feel loved, did your favourite hobby, made your favourite meal or drink, visited your favourite place, watched your favourite film or listened to your favourite song? how long ago since you last did something you truly love, simply for the joy of doing it?
#hoping i can get this into my head#for me its things like reading and writing and tarot and journaling but for you it might be something completely different#i stopped doing those things a while ago and i just realised i haven't felt right since#recovery#self care#love letters to you
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Part of harm reduction is recognizing that abstinence or sobriety, whenever these terms are applicable, is not the inherent goal for so many people. Forcing complete abstinence or sobriety can absolutely be detrimental, which is why we must not idealize either one or force it on people. It should be an option, yes, but that does not mean it is the only option or the only option worth pursuing.
#harm reduction#mental health#mental health advocacy#ask to tag (genuine)#i practice almost complete abstinence for a particular behaviour but if you forced abstinence onto me i would be livid and scared...#...and i would feel that way because the abstinence is not my choice which means i have no control or agency over if/when i feel safe...#...to engage in 'harmful' behaviour...#...yes i recognize that abstinence is my best option which is why i practice it but i do NOT want my agency over it taken away#while the behaviour i do isn't drugs/drinking which is what people typically mean by harm reduction it counts still#this is related to my 'recovery should be an option not a compulsion' post. they're cousins in fact
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for months i had this obsession with wing shape.
the majority of feathered wings have an underlying musculature almost akin to a thumb. the primary feathers - sometimes called "flight feathers" - are those long feathers that seem to "hang off" of the wing. they're actually connected to the "hand" (literally the manus) of the bird and can be individually rotated. they are responsible for the majority of thrust during the downstroke, and while the number of them depends on speciation; the majority of birds will have between 9 and 11 of these feathers (as opposed to secondary flight feathers; their shorter partners, which vary from 6 to 40).
i started attaching them to the silhouettes of people, drawing angels tumbling out of buildings and running late to work and skipping class to smoke outside of a 7-11. i drew angels eating apples and doing their homework and pushing their hair back from their eyes and holding a pencil. the margins of all of my poems had feathers raining down the side of the page.
i was in the worst depression of my life and had decided i was giving up on the idea of freedom. i would be a happy wife to a mediocre husband and the angels would come and pass their wings over my eyes and let me feel nothing but numbness. i would have a life like an echo. i would never enter my body without knocking first - it would carry all this weight, and i would be sleeping peacefully, my soul somewhere out there, flying with wings.
she laughed and came over and sat next to me, and smelled of lavender. whenever she talked, a strange harmony stole into my heart; something that was only memory and no words. not an echo - an answer.
inside of her sketchbook were hundreds of pictures of birds.
#this is true and also#almost was a completely different post#about recovery#but no#wlw instead bitch#writeblr#game of thrones was popular at the time.#i was mad about the wing shape of the dragons; at their lack of connective tissue. i kept talking about the hands we have#a wing is not a hand#it is an ecologically significant adaptation#also#bat dragons would have been very cool.#yes i repeated the word echo it was intentional it is answering that above paragraph.
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UNFLABBALE, STUNNING, SHOWSTOPPING, UNSTOPPABLE, CHRONICALLY STUPID
GET THAT BAG QUEEN!
#completely fucking whiffed and still got the third highest score#the immediate recovery like she didn’t just embarrass her entire family#this is a woman undeterred#tower of god#tog#tower of god anime
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i talk about god a lot.
#web weaving#god#religious imagery#religious themes#poetry#poem#lena's bad poetry archives#on recovery#on love#on friendship#on god#on faith#on grief#etc#this post isn't nearly complete#queer poets#lena's poetry archives
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Just to inform you, guys. I’m intending that, for the majority of our Sparkling AU, it’s an AU, so it’s not about the characters when they are actually babies anymore. It’s basically about the whole entire TFP story except it’s set in a universe where there are no actual wars. The whole ‘war’ thing is just some sparklings going into groups and play-fighting with their imaginations. Every character that ‘died’ in this universe are just either moving to another school (ex: Cliffjumper & Elita One) or got tired of the game and didn’t wanna play anymore (Ex: Skyquake, Dreadwing, and Breakdown). And all the human characters are all little ragdolls that are brought to life by the sparkling’s imaginations.
cause the actual show crippled me and this is my denial mechanism.
(read the tags)
#transformers#tfp#artists on tumblr#transformer prime#transformer au#tfp sparklings#my sparklings#Sparklings AU#I might get to more medias this way#Like the whole story is actually just some kids playing around#No one died and no one really hated each others#They are just playing and everything is fine#But somebody did get hurt totally#Cause there’s no adult supervision still#Megatron did totally found those unsupervised pills#don’t worry eventually at the end of the story someone will find out and take him to the hospital for medicine poisoning#And he’ll make a full recovery after a few months#The ending scene is just Bumblebee rushing to some adults to finally snitch about Megatron#and they also found out about the pills#And Bumblebee is just too young to speak the whole time but at the end he did learn so#What if the whole story is actually just about some wild kids and mad irresponsible parents#And Unicron is just a mean teen who wants to bully the kids#He’s wearing a bean bag suit that looks like Megatron to scare and confuse the kids#And near the end Megatron finally left the hospital and came back to play#With the pills completely confiscated and him going through councilings to get off the addiction of course
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Happy to have posted that cause I can go into more depth about certain other demon-lore tidbits and the like! To expand upon the familial aspect:
Split demons often have complex relations when thinking about their Roots, this is strongest in 1st degree Splits while 3rd or 4th have a much more detached point of view. When Splits refer to their counterparts, they'll often use the term brother or sister but it's usually not intended in any gendered aspect.
#file recovery#also like said split n root stuff can be really varied n complex#my ocs#i just wanted to doodle sezzi n stolforns .... i did design them a long while ago before i settled down on this lore n had a completely#different demon system so theyre sorta remnants of that#in retrospect man Sezzi's whole family thing has gone through a shit ton of changes cause he was an oc i had partake in joint stories with#friends. he's also technically the 2nd file recovery oc to be made alongside tif like theyve always been rivals
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Okay but Katsuki definitely does not know Izuku’s on the fast train back to quirkless. “Don’t let me surpass you” has to hit SO different when Izuku gets a chance to process it
#bkdk#bakudeku#mha spoilers#mha manga spoilers#like is that going to fuel some fanfic level miscommunication angst#is Izuku going to feel like he wouldn’t change anything about what happened but he’s still letting Katsuki down???#I am so completely on board with the breaks but also I NEED ANSWERS#what’s next???? immediate aftermath of the last chapter?#hospital recovery times???#TIME SKIP#dude I hope not#not yet#Izuku and Katsuki need to talk#if they aren’t going to hold hands then at the very least we need them to have a long conversation about what makes a hero a hero#and how being quirkless doesn’t disqualify you
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First Night Home pt. 1
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Aiden wishes he could know the way home by heart. Feel a sense of comfort, that indescribable pull, as familiarity marks the closing distance to the place where he belongs. It’s a foolish, naked yearning. One that hangs in the spotlight of his focus a moment too long, leaving him feeling just as exposed.
He spreads his fingers on his legs to stop from curling them into fists. Curling his toes in his shoes is a cheap substitute for grounding himself but at least it keeps that look off Leo’s face.
The one that confirms Aiden is a burden he didn’t sign up for, companion or not.
“Almost there,” Leo says, pulling away from a stop sign and turning left.
His stomach drops and he turns toward the window to hide his face.
Just like the first night, he has no idea what to expect when they arrive. He should be able to grant Leo a fraction of the trust he has felt but is always unable to find when he needs it most. It’s overwhelmed too easily, road salt cloudy headlights on an unlit route, feeble light swallowed by darkness before it can illuminate anything more than the rush of pavement before it disappears. His catastrophizing is stunted by exhaustion but the longer they drive down the winding roads, the more his stomach knots and twists, anticipation-turning-to-dread the only mile marker he has. He worries about losing to his nausea, as much as a passenger in his body as he is in the car, heading toward the inevitable.
When Leo turns off the road, Aiden panics even more, scanning the row of four identical condos, porch lights still casting a dim glow in the pre-dawn light. He doesn’t recognize anything, except Leo’s work van at the end of the shared driveway. Shame rises along with the bile in his stomach. It’s disrespectful to Leo and the invitation to share any part of his home––to entertain it as a place he could pretend to belong—if he can’t even recognize it from the outside.
For fuck’s sake, it’s the barest of minimums required to lay claim to any place.
He bites back his apology. Stutters won’t be the only thing that comes out if he opens his mouth just now. He wouldn’t be able to articulate the transgression anyway. Little progress he made earlier trying to explain he wasn’t trying to run from Leo at the hospital, that he was just trying to give him a shot at getting his life back. The one before he took on a damaged—
“Home sweet home.” Leo kills the engine and lets his head fall back against the headrest with a sigh.
Aiden lowers his gaze, guilt swirling in his stomach. Again, the apology is on the tip of his tongue but his eyes start to burn hot with tears. He will not cry again. He cannot. He bites the inside of his cheek and the taste of blood is a quick distraction.
Worse than dissolving into a crying mess would be getting sick in Leo’s sister’s car.
Leo’s on the move anyway. With another sigh, he gets out, leaving Aiden alone to clap his good hand over his mouth and force deep breaths in and out through his nose. He even closes his eyes to beg himself to be capable this time. Better for this second-second chance. Easier after everything.
Little good it does.
By the time Leo reaches his door, Aiden is resigned to ducking around him to throw up. The bar lowered to please just don’t get sick on Leo’s shoes.
The cold air hits him in a blast when Leo reaches the door and helps him out. He blinks against the sharp sting of it, both hands gripping Leo’s forearm. Another lungful of brisk winter morning and the nausea settles.
His next inhale is full of sky. Deep blue night softening with the light of day from one horizon to the other. A whisper of purple hinting at the brilliance of more colors soon to come. He could stay here forever, taking in the spectrum of dark to light, the stars fading out in the west and the sun soon to rise in the east. He watched the sunrise a few times from the bedroom window upstairs but he can’t remember the last time he stood under a sky like this.
Or the last time he was outside in daylight at all.
“Hon, you alright?”
Leo’s expression has probably passed concern because Aiden let a few tears escape. They’ve already slid down his cheeks, warm at the outset, their wakes chilled in the fresh morning air.
He wipes his face with his sleeve, still looking up. “Thank you,” he hears himself whisper and somehow it comes out crystal clear. He wishes he could say more, thank Leo for this morning sky he had nothing and everything to do with. But he doesn’t trust himself not to ruin it.
Leo doesn’t say anything back, just wraps an arm around his shoulders.
As soon as they step inside, he wants to run back to the feeling he found under the sky. But Leo’s exhausted and he already waited with Aiden until the sun started peeking over the horizon. Watching the sun rise wouldn’t stave off the inevitable. It’ll be over in minutes anyway.
Aiden winds up hovering at the edge of the kitchen, unsure if he should stay out of the way or help. The bags sit on the island, handles still standing at attention from being lifted there.
Leo relieves him of any guesswork by setting a glass of water on the island. “Think you can drink this?”
He nods, grateful for an easy opportunity to be obedient, and slides onto a stool, watching for any reaction from Leo out of habit, but he’s looking down. Aiden’s stomach knots when he realizes he’s reading the slip of paper from the doctors again.
If Leo tells him to take any of the medicine, he should. He will. He’ll do anything Leo asks him to. Happily. If what Leo said about finding him is true, he owes him his life twice over, maybe three times if he considers—
“Aiden?”
He jumps and Leo quickly leans over to clamp a hand around his teetering glass.
“M’sorry.” He tucks his hands between his legs, apology not quite audible even to his ears.
“Sorry, didn’t mean to spook you.”
“S’okay,” he whispers.
Leo’s sigh makes him flinch before he can catch himself.
Leo holds up his hands, one still holding the rescued glass. “Easy, sweetheart. We’re all good. It’s all good.”
Aiden nods. He’s overreacting, reading into Leo’s every fucking exhale. He’s just overreacting but still, tears are building behind his eyes. He nods again, squeezing his hands into fists but the pain that radiates up his arms makes the tears fall. “M’sorry, m’sorry.” He shakes his hands out at his sides, swipes furiously at the traitorous tears, and refuses—refuses—to meet Leo’s gaze to see how completely exasperated and disappointed he is. “M’sorry, m’sorry—”
“Aiden. Aiden.” Leo’s beside him now, warm hand on his shoulder making him realize just how much he’s curled forward. “Just breathe. That’s right. You’re okay, you’re good.”
He nods, sniffling. He needs to pull himself together. “M’sorry, m’sorry.”
“Hon, look at me.”
He meets Leo’s eyes, letting himself shelter in the ease of obedience.
“You’re good, it’s all good. We’ll figure things out together, step by step, in the morning—or, well, later today.” Leo’s soft chuckle, tired as it is, tempts Adien further into the lulls of earned safety and he doesn’t have the energy to resist. Leo rubs his shoulder. “Everything will look a little better after some sleep, yeah?” Leo goes to the sink to top up his glass. “Let’s head up.”
His stomach drops and maybe even his lungs too because he can’t feel himself breathe anymore. He’s too busy trying to read Leo’s face. What about the mess upstairs? Should he get the bleach? Or is this the moment Leo finally punishes him?
He follows Leo to the stairs, shoving his shaking hands into the pocket of the hoodie. He knots his fingers together as much as he can without it hurting too much. He’s not sure what they’ll find upstairs. He can only remember blurs and there’s no telling what happened after his memory stops.
“Better get scrubbing, ‘359.”
He shakes his head but the flashes of the facility tiles, covered in blood, are so bright in his mind. His hand gripping the banister feels far away, feet climbing the stairs even further. A few more steps and he’ll be able to see the bathroom.
The blood, the tiles.
“Aiden?”
He flinches, attention snapping back to Leo a few steps ahead. “M’good,” he says, too quickly because Leo narrows his eyes. He walks back down and stops one step lower so they’re the same height.
“There’s no–– there’s nothing to worry about. I asked Jesse to come over while we were out.”
He nods slowly.
“Everything’s clean, it’s all good.”
Aiden hopes he hides his shameful relief better than his lack of understanding. “Mmm’thanks…” It’s not enough. He’ll never be enough.
Leo holds out his arm. “All good, hon.”
At the top of the stairs, he goes the extra mile and flicks on every light in the bathroom. The brightness hurts Aiden’s eyes but the bathroom is indeed spotless.
Like nothing ever happened.
Leo walks him to the second bedroom, sets the glass of water on the desk and clicks on the little lamp. “I’ll get you some clean pajamas.”
The pressure in the room changes when Leo leaves.
Aiden’s breath comes easier, inhale and exhale deeper. The air no longer feeling finite to leave space for all the anticipation that accompanies Leo.
But his relief is quickly spoiled by the discomfort of idleness.
Using the desk chair for balance, he strips to his underwear, neatly folding the dirty clothes to be put in the hamper in the bathroom. He doesn’t want to see the bandages on his hand or arms, nor the gauze taped to his elbow and collarbone. Any visible trace of blood and Leo will want to check them, clean the stitches, change the bandages, ask him how he’s feeling, if he wants to take something for it and he can’t answer, he can’t look, he can’t handle having Leo examine him like that, so careful like he’s breakable when he’s done all this to himself and—
He covers his face with his hands. Tries to pull in a deeper breath but the smell of betadine under the bandages makes his stomach churn so he lets his hands fall.
There’s a smudge on his upper arm. Rubbing at it with his thumb does nothing. He turns to see it in the faint light coming through the window––
It’s blood. Dried blood, all over. A ragged stripe of it snaking across his upper arms and chest. He can see it spreading, hear the drip, drip, drip of the faucet he was shaking too much to turn off completely.
He pinches his eyes shut and shakes his head but when he opens his eyes again it’s even worse. It’s everywhere, splotches up and down his arms, all over his torso.
Splattered all over the bright, white tiles.
He can’t get it off. He has to get rid of it. He has to wash away the blood.
“Scrub those tiles good and clean, ‘359.”
No, this can’t be happening right now.
His breath trembles and he can’t fill his lungs anymore but it doesn’t matter because the sounds of his panic have already caught Leo’s attention.
“Aiden?”
He spins to face Leo, bumping into the door which hits the wall and makes him jump all over again. His apology comes out as more of a strangled whine.
“Easy.” Leo makes his movements slow and deliberate as he sets the clothes down. “It’s alright.”
Aiden nods along. Of course it’s alright. He knows it’s alright but he still can’t seem to catch more than tiny gasps of air at a time. It’s just Leo. He’s here with Leo. He’s––
“Hey, hey, look at me.”
Leo doesn’t try to move any closer, just holds his gaze. “That’s good, just breathe. We’ve got all the time we need. There’s no rush. Just take it easy. Take some slow, deep breaths.”
He hates how immediately possible it is when he can hear it as a command.
“Good, that’s good. You’re good.”
Hates even more that he sinks his teeth right into all the warmth and relief he can get from the shallow praise, a shiver running up his spine in its wake. But it helps and he can already stand a bit straighter, think, and see a bit clearer.
Leo waits a few more deep breaths. “All good?”
“Mhm, m’sorry—” He clears his throat. “I––I––” He steels himself and lets his arms fall, eyes locked on Leo’s expression.
“Ah. I didn’t think of that.”
Leo’s frown makes his heart start to race. He crosses an arm over his chest, as if there might be a chance Leo can actually see the hair-trigger reactivity he’s got tonight.
“I’ll get a washcloth with some soap, I can––”
“Please––” he chokes out, calves hitting the bed frame. He blinks away Harrison, standing over him, cold and indifferent while he begs and cries.
“Okay, never mind.” Aiden is still holding his breath so Leo softens his voice. “Hey, hey, easy. Not that one, okay? Forget I suggested it.”
He drags in a strained breath. “M’sorry.” Forces himself to take a step back toward Leo.
“It’s alright, don’t be sorry. I need to know these things, it’s good you’re telling me.”
He swallows and looks down. Unsure if he’s more ashamed that Leo has to spell it out for him or that it’s necessary at all.
“Well, I guess a shower is the next option. What do you think?”
Aiden nods, trying to look at least a little more composed to face the bathroom.
“Okay,” Leo says but he doesn’t move.
Aiden looks down again to let him think. He wants to shake out his arms, and his legs too while he’s at it. Just because he can and that’s why it helps. But he doesn’t want Leo to think he’s impatient. He’d probably tip right over anyway.
“Sorry, okay, yeah. Just a quick shower, I’ll help you.” He turns and Aiden follows.
It won’t be as simple as that but it’s a lie of solace they’ll cling to like a life raft.
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@octopus-reactivated @maracujatangerine @nicolepascaline @whumpy-writings @cracked-porcelain-princess
@meetmeinhellcroutons @briars7 @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jo-doe-seeking-inspo @neuro-whump
@painsandconfusion @wolfeyedwitch @skyhawkwolf @haro-whumps @onlybadendings
@peachy-panic @fillthedarkvoid @rabass @crystalquartzwhump @dont-touch-my-soup
@mylifeisonthebookshelf @hold-him-down @guachipongo @creetchure @leyswhumpdump
@aseasonwithclarasblog @catawhumpus @magziemakeswhatever @espresso-depresso-system @pigeonwhumps
@batfacedliar-yetagain @whumpinthepot @dustypinetree @whump-in-progress @pirefyrelight
@whumps-and-bumps @i-eat-worlds @hellodecisionparalysis @heartfullofhoney
#sucker for a carewhumping bath scene#bbu#box boy whump#pet whump#bbu adjacent#dubious caretaker#recovery whump#institutionalized slavery#blood mention cw#reference to injuries cw#distrust of medication cw#ps i forgot to use the taglist on halloween so none of you saw that#which sort of makes me want to retcon it#i also want to write an ill advised relationship arc for aiden#complete with consensual spice#revealing secrets in the tags
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iron / heart
Part of LoL Esports Elemental Series.
#lolelements#lol esports#t1 faker#t1 oner#t1 zeus#t1 gumayusi#t1 keria#skt bang#skt wolf#skt bengi#skt kkoma#warning: MAJOR yapping incoming below#thinking about still here.mp3 and 'gripping with my cold hands the shapes i used to take'#'it could all end here with the strange daylight caught in our eyes'#'my shadow stretching out through all the things i left behind'#opening ceremony+t1 has everything they need to put me on a stretcher to ER#images from lol esports flickr (2016 worlds either finals or semis i goofed and forgot)#(and msi 2024 brackets features and worlds 2024 semis features)#there is a universe where i collected more pics and put a bit more thought into which word should go to who#but that universe also involves me doing this at a time that is not 5am#this is my last one probably twas lots of fun but new things on the horizon for me#this post is scheduled to post on finals day but just know that i am awake and shitting my pants over worlds finals#then recovery period and then im shifting into arcane mode#being completely deranged is a full time commitment never let anyone tell you otherwise#lil pat on the back for myself for successfully posting one per day til finals EVEN if they were sorta mediocre or dupes hahaha#special thanks to t1 for making it to semis because if they didn't there's a chance i would have lost steam LMAO#work school and the physical need for sleep work hard#but the esports demons in my brain work harder
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I'm Just Not Well
Warnings: rescue, captivity, torture, broken bones, blood, bruises, hurt/aftermath, hurt/recovery, hospital
"Whumpee, you gotta talk to me, please," Caretaker said as they sat in the back of the ambulance with Whumpee.
Whumpee's skin was mottled with bruises in various stages of healing--some deep purple almost black, some red and swollen, while others had taken an almost blue green tint as they healed. Their collar bone was clearly broken. Blood had dried in their matted hair, clotted on their split eyebrow, and had dried on other parts of their body that was visible.
They sat quietly on the gurney, responding only to a few questions asked by the EMT. Their voice was low and hoarse. Clearly they had been screaming from days. They stared out with a hollow look in their one not swollen shut eye.
"Whumpee?" Caretaker tried again.
"I'm alive," they croaked, "I'm just not well."
Caretaker's heart sunk. They had hoped Whumpee would open up a little bit more to them. "Do you want to talk about it?"
Whumpee closed their one good eye and leaned back on the gurney. "There's nothing else to tell you, Caretaker. I'm alive."
Caretaker opened their mouth and closed it. Clearly Whumpee wasn't ready to talk about whatever horrors they had endured at Whumper's hands. "Well, I'm here if you ever want or need to talk, Whumpee."
Whumpee nodded, but didn't say anything. They kept their eye closed, their body swaying with the motion of the ambulance speeding down the city streets.
"We'll be at the hospital soon, Whumpee. You're going to be ok," Caretaker said, hoping that their words were true and Whumpee would be ok.
Tags: @mousepaw @jumpywhumpywriter @knightinbatteredarmor @hufflepuffwritingstuff2 @anightmarishwhump
@steh-lar-uh-nuhs @celestialsoyeon @st0rmm @ay5ksal @pedro-pedro-pedro-pedro-pe
@artisticdemon
#serickswrites#whump#whump community#whumpblr#whump writing#tw captivity#tw torture#tw blood#tw broken bones#tw bruises#rescue#hurt/aftermath#hurt/recovery#tw hospital#whumptober2024#no. 31#prompt: “I'm alive I'm just not well”#fic#oc#angstober 2024#day 30#prompt: nothing else to tell you#ailesswhumptober2024#day 21#prompt: ambulance ride#queue#y'all i did it#all 31 prompts for all 3 challenges completed
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Thinking thoughts today about the contrasting yet similar ways both of them lost whole chunks of their lives
#both happened as a result of battle - albeit she won and he lost#both missing out on time with each other and their kid#THE CONTRASTS AND HOW IT REFLECTS THEIR NATURES are what's interesting to me tho#look at how fucked up kazuya is. his devil wings are shredded like grated cheese and he's covered in scars and wounds. it's all violence#not to mention being a lab rat which is a pretty hellish panopticon even if you consent to it#meanwhile jun is alone and isolated on sacred land for her recovery. she looks peaceful. no visible signs of harm#the completely different vibes match who they are as people.#ngl tho i do still think a seven year coma is horrific and potentially guilt inducing + traumatizing + scary and all that#this is just commentary on the ~aesthetics~#tekken#val rambles#kazjun
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