#healing wounds

[manpleblog]

computer lesbianism

[jasmines-library]

Necrosis

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WHUMPTOBER DAY SIXTEEN :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Summary: Tim helps you with your wounds.

Warnings: mentions of injury. Necrosis.

Word count: 666

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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Tim frowned as he watched you hobble across the room with a noticeable limp. You had been injured a few weeks ago; a nasty hit to the thigh with a knife. The would had been deep and painful and would more than likely leave a scar. You were supposed to be on crutches, but you had abandoned those after the first week and a half and were now resorting to limping through the manor now you weren’t on bed rest. 

“You shouldn’t be walking on that.” Tim chided as he glanced up at you from his computer screen. He had been staring at it for the last three hours, only leaving to go to the bathroom or to refill his coffee. 

“Yeah but I’m sick of staying in bed.” You said, continuing to limp towards the kitchen.  It was strange. After two or so weeks the wound should have healed up somewhat, but it seemed you were still struggling with it. And normally it wouldn’t have been a problem, but Tim often overthought and wanted to be safer than sorry. With a huff, Tim stood, walking over to you. He placed a gentle hand on your back and guided you to sit down. 

“Sit.” He said. It was practically an order as he gave you no choice but to. 

You let out a hiss as you sat, the pain in your leg twinging. Tim gave you a look. 

“How many times have you been told to stay off this leg.” He tutted. “If you want to get better you need to rest.” 

“I was just going to the kitchen.” You argued back. 

“You could have asked one of us” 

“There’s no point in asking one of you when it’s just easier to get there myself.” 

“Clearly you can’t. You’re still limping…..is it still bothering you that much?” 

“A little…” 

“That means yes then.” Tim rephrased. He knew you had a habit of downplaying your pain. He helps you straighten out your leg gently, taking a look at the bandages. “How long ago did you change these?” 

“Uh….two I think. Alfred did them for me.” He had been doing a good job of making sure your wound was clean and free from infection. 

Tim pursed his lips. “You mind if I take a look? They probably need changing anyway” 

“Go ahead.” 

“Alright.” Tim stood before going to get the medical kit. “Don’t move.” He pointed at you. “I mean it.” 

“Yes, Sir.” You mock saluted. 

Tim returned a minute later, and as much as you would have liked to have left you did stay in your place for him. Gingerly he took your leg between his hands and began to unwrap the bandages. There was no sign of blood, which was a good sign. However when he revealed the wound, he let out a hiss though his teeth.

Some of the skin around the wound had began to turn a nasty grey-ish colour. Necrosis. Likely a sign of infection or lack of blood to the cells which has caused them to die. 

“Well shit….. no wonder it’s been bothering you so much, sweetheart.”

“Necrosis?” You swallowed thickly. 

“Looks like it. It’s infected, kid.” 

“Shit.” 

“Hey. Don’t think like that. We’ll get you on some antibiotics and see how that helps and go from there, yeah? I’ll let B know. You’ll be fine, we’ll sort it, kid.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Now let’s get this bandaged for you, hm?” He said, reaching into the medical kit and pulling out a fresh bandage and some sterile wipes. Gently he cleaned the area, his touch gentle so as to not cause you any more harm, before he tossed the wipe away and began to re-wrap the wound. The bandage sat snug but not suffocating around your thigh. “There you go kid. 

 “Thank you.”

“Now get some rest while I go and talk to B.”

“Alright.”

“No walking on that leg.” Tim warned. “I mean it. No wandering off.”

“No promises.”

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<- DAY FIFTEEN ⛧ DAY SEVENTEEN->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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[whumpcave]

Whumpuary 2025

1)"This will hurt"

Cw: Blood, wounds

Whumpee was still, they had stopped breathing, they were purely focused on the gentle touch of caretaker's hand. They weren't used to the softness, used to being touched without aggression. Caretaker's hand hovered over the wound.

"Okay, o-okay, I'm gonna apply some pressure to stop the bleeding, alright? Remember to keep breathing for me whumpee." Whumpee inhaled, shuddering, wide eyed. "Alright, I'm going to press down now, this will hurt."

Whumpee braced, biting their lip. The pain came in a wave, spreading across their whole arm. Blood oozed out, wasn't it meant to stop?

Whumpee started panicking, the blood was too much, everything was too much.

"Stop it! Please! Make it- make it stop!" Whumpee hiccuped, tears spilling.

"Shhhh- Shhh, please whumpee. I know, I know- I'm so so sorry."

Before long the bleeding stopped, whumpee was still shaking, their face wet.

"You're doing so well for me whumpee, I'm just going to clean it with some water. Just a little longer, okay?" Caretaker's voice was shaky, laced with nerves.

Whumpee nodded, licking their now bleeding lip.

Caretaker wiped at the wound with a damp cloth, it stung, but it was bearable. When caretaker was done they covered it with a bandage. It was finally over.

Caretaker kissed whumpee on the forehead, their eyes were wet, they smiled. "There we go whumpee. It's done."

Caretaker was always so gentle, whumpee hiccuped.

They were safe now.

[les-larmes-d-eros]

Série Skin deep, autoportrait par Els Vanopstal

[monikamonik]

・ೃ⁀➷𓂃・❥・𓂃♡꙳𓂂•.

"Time doesn't heal wounds. All our mental wounds are healed only by ourselves and only within ourselves. Time only gives us its space so that we can heal them at our own pace."

Izabela Raczyńska

[eman-emm]

[tildeathiwillwrite]

Watcher and Apprentice, Part 2

(The Watcher and the Thief, Chapter 1 Scene 2)

WoW Birthday Whump Day 15: "I'm Sorry."

Whumpril Day 14 (Urgent Care)(kind of), Day 19 ("I need you")

WoW Birthday Whump Event Prompts List

Whumpril Prompts List

Tales from Valaria Masterpost

part 1

TW: stitches mention, wounds mention, blood mention, anger

Context: Hector has gotten Luc back to the blockade. Now he waits outside the medical tent, wondering if his apprentice will survive.

Aaaaand that's a wrap for this whump event! Thank you so much to @whumperofworlds for all the prompts! I will continue to participate in Whumpril, so stay tuned for more of that.

-----

“You’re going to kill the grass if you keep pacing like that.”

Hector paused mid-step and glared at the nearby elf, who sat cross-legged outside the medical tent, polishing his silver daggers. “By the depths, de Silv, he just got attacked by a magician, of all things!”

“True,” the elf replied. His hands were busied with the daggers, but his eyes, sharp as the blades, were fixed on Hector. “And I’m as concerned about that as you are concerned about your apprentice.”

“Then excuse me if I’m a little restless!” Hector snapped. He began pacing again, hands clasped firmly together behind his back. They'd gotten back to the blockade in record time. Luc’s heart was still beating when he’d set the boy on the table inside the medical tent. Unfortunately, the healers, Silas and Ven, immediately kicked Hector out so they could treat him in peace.

Assholes.

Octavian sighed, sliding his daggers into their sheathes. “From what I had glimpsed of your apprentice’s injuries, I am certain that, despite the blood loss, he should make a full recovery.”

“I’ll be sure to keep your professional opinion in mind.”

A series of shrill whistles echoed throughout the camp. One short whistle, one long whistle, pause. Two long whistles, one short whistle. Hector froze, mentally translating the code. A-G. It wasn’t the alert for a sang attack, three short whistles in quick succession. So what did A-G mean?

Octavian rose to his feet, the ghost of a smile on his face. “My presence is requested. I wish your apprentice a swift recovery.” The elf bowed his head to Hector and departed.

Ah. Ag was the alchemical abbreviation for silver. De Silv. It was a clever, if strange, bit of code. Why did de Silv have a signal to himself?

Before Hector could dwell on it further, one of the healers, Ven, emerged from the medical tent. “Watcher, you may enter. We have something we must discuss.”

Hector raised an eyebrow but did what he was told, following Ven inside. He breathed an audible sigh of relief when he saw Luc conscious, sitting on the table as Silas finished wrapping bandages around his torso. The healer nodded to Hector as he entered. “Watcher.”

“Silas. You need to talk?”

Both healers glanced at each other for a brief second. Silas gave a slight nod, and Ven turned back to Hector, her expression grim. “His injuries are superficial. We should have been able to close them without stitches. But even with stitches, the skin refuses to heal itself. The blood won’t even clot. We’ve never seen anything like it, even from runes.”

Hector gritted his teeth, eyes on his apprentice. Luc’s face still hadn’t regained its color, but he seemed alert enough. “What are you saying?”

“The wound is cursed,” Silas said softly, “the runes make it so his body can’t heal itself.” He pointed to a bandage wrapped around Luc’s arm. “And it’s not just the runes she carved into his skin that won’t close.”

“Our methods accelerate the body’s natural healing process,” Ven clarified, eyes downcast, “but we can’t do anything if the blood won’t clot. I’m sorry, Watcher.”

Hector stared at them for a long moment as he tried to process their words. His wounds won’t heal? A rune could do that? The full implications hit him like an arrow fired at full draw, and he swore vehemently, slamming his fist into the table.

The healers flinched back at his outburst. “It… it is possible that the rune is only slowing his healing,” Silas ventured, “given time, he might recover.”

“Might? Might?!” Hector barked a harsh laugh, trying to stomp his rising fury before he lashed out further. “You just told me he’s going to slowly bleed out! If infection doesn’t get him first!” He ran his hands through his hair. “Luc, your mother is going to kill me when she finds out about… about how….”

He trailed off. No need to say the last part of that sentence.

“May we speak alone, please?” Luc asked softly. Ven and Silas glanced at each other before quickly leaving the tent. Hector and Luc were left in silence for several moments.

“It’s not your fault,” Luc said. Hector opened his mouth, but Luc held up a hand. “No. You couldn’t have known this would happen. No one could.”

Hector sighed. Unfortunately, he was right. “I just… is there really nothing more they can do for you? Are we just supposed to wait and see if your wounds close on their own?”

“I don’t plan on it. They’re planning on sending me back to Caenum to recover. Apparently they’re sending a messenger to the Draigo, to get someone to track down the magician.”

“Good,” Hector muttered, “she deserves to be brought to justice. Shame I couldn’t do it myself.” As he finished speaking, the first part of Luc’s response registered. “Wait, what do you mean ‘you don’t plan on it’?”

His apprentice inhaled slowly, steeling himself for what he was about to say. That was never a good sign, coming from Luc. He only did that when he was about to suggest something completely—

“I’m going to find a magician to reverse the curse.”

There it was.

Hector took a few deep breaths and pinched the bridge of his nose. “I want you to repeat that, except this time actually pay attention to what comes out of your mouth.”

“It’s not going to be the same magician!” Luc retorted as if that made the idea any better. “One of the wandering magicians from around Zariya or Valdove, one who we know for a fact isn’t a sang-hunting serial killer.”

“Do I have to spell out for you just how bad of an idea this is?” Hector started pacing the length of the tent. His apprentice was already responsible for several gray hairs on his head and seemed intent on giving him more. “No. Absolutely not. We’re going back to Caenum—”

“Where I can slowly bleed out? Or let my wounds get infected?”

Hector paused and glared at Luc, but the boy continued talking. “If we go back to Caenum, I will die. We haven’t seen a magician there in years! But if we seek out someone like… I don’t know… Qila Scoria? She might be able to undo the runes.”

“You’re insane.”

“Do you have a better idea?”

Hector sighed. “No.”

“So it’s viable?”

Hector fixed his apprentice with a flat stare. “It’s viable… but if your wounds get worse, we’re going back to Caenum. Are we clear?”

Luc grinned. “Clear as glass.”

@fourwingedsnake @whumpril @pigeonwhumps

[grayssieeesblog]

cumming on ur open wounds bcs it'll heal it faster <3

[ruminate88]

Healing and Accepting Yourself 🌹

1/15/25 learning to love yourself

First off, I’ve never felt comfortable to say “I love myself” cuz I’ve always had the mindset I have to be “humble” but self-loathing is bad and is a real thing. I’ve hated myself too long!! In my past, I would pull on my hair almost to pull it out 😓 I felt sooooo ugly and worthless.

The way I wouldn’t eat but then suddenly I’m shoving a bag of chips down my throat till I’m too full. Also, I only drank mountain dew back then 😝 also was drowning myself in porn trying to make myself “feel better”. That’s all real and so unhealthy. Also I was unknowingly in toxic relationships… I never knew anything about emotional abuse. Never even heard of it. I knew the men I talked to online were “opinionated” and seemingly have all this “advice” to give me but noooow I understand it was criticism ❤️‍🩹 I thought getting all the attention from those men was fun or good but yet they ultimately all hurt me in same way. Attention is not love and sadly it was negative attention as these men objectify me and treat me disrespectfully. (I allowed it)

I wore too much makeup back then. Often wore black and grey eyeshadow trying to feel pretty but I was truly emo. Especially when I was talking to my ex Andrew, the way he had me anxious and on egg shells constantly. I put on so much dark eyeshadow that a dear lady I love says to me, “sweetie, you’re too pretty for all that dark eyeshadow” 🥺🌹 she’s sooo sweet I know she loves me but I was so hard on myself!!!

Sadly I wanted the approval of these men to validate if I’m pretty or good enough because I think they’re extremely handsome men and so smart cuz of being in college (one of them had countless awards) HAH 💔😢 but they invalidate me and put me down. They get my nudes, talk dirty to me but yet shove me away and make me feel so bad. The way they seemingly “hate me” and I feel it deep down until I believe it and so I hate myself too 🌹

On this journey I’m learning I’ve gotta accept myself. Flaws and all. Accept what happened and how it changed me. Yes, it changed me. I see the world much different now. I’m becoming “self aware” but doesn’t mean I know it all and am suddenly perfect haha I’m just aware of my problems and areas of where I need help. Where I’ve went wrong in the past and how I can learn from my mistakes ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🌹

I’ve since gotten in a healthier relationship, now I eat a little better, I’ve given up all Mountain Dew/pop and I’m not anxious like I was but nothing is fixed over night. I’m actively trying to understand myself and my past. Trying to learn lessons and grow. Some days all I can take is a baby step and then other days I find I can take bigger steps ❤️‍🩹🌹 Gotta be patient with yourself!

I hope whoever finds this that you also are taking better care of yourself too and learning to accept yourself. YOU HAVE TO FORGIVE YOURSELF! 🙏🏻 It’s easy for me to cheer others on but not do the same for me. I’ve never been my own cheerleader before 😝 it’s weird but I’m trying!! Also, I know I’m at a place where I’m struggling to share my feelings with anyone close to me ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹🌹 I know I need to open up more 🥺 I will in time! One day at a time ❤️‍🩹🌹

[manpleblog]

[jasmines-library]

I think I visit your blog an unhealthy number of times bc it's just my go-to for some good old fashioned hurt/comfort and it's just. You are such an incredible writer 😭❤️!! could I request a batfam fic where the reader undergoes a depressive (or numb) episode/the vibe that comes with a character just falling down wordlessly on the couch and the other character saying "bad day?" and the character nodding and giving them a blanket // if this is too specific absolutely no worries, either :D! any and all characters are alright, thank you so much!! please take your time with the requests and I hope you have an awesome rest of ur day :]!!

Aww anon! That’s so cute! I hope you enjoy and I hope you’re doing okay! :)

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WHUMPTOBER DAY TWENTY :Prompt: necrosis/wound cleaning.

Warnings: numbness and a depressive episode described.

Word count: 1k

MASTERLIST ⛤ WHUMPTOBER 2024

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You had fallen into that pattern again. That dreadful, hateful pattern. It comes and goes in waves; Numbness followed by dark sadness that weighed heavily in the middle of your chest. Suffocating. 

You couldn’t help it. You never could. The feeling would just wash over you all of a sudden. Hit you like a ton of bricks. And usually you felt like there was nothing you could do about it except let it play out its course. So, you spent much of your time alone. It didn’t help much. Being alone made you feel worse in many ways. You yearned for normality; Dick’s laughter and Damian’s small unamused grunts as he pretended to be interested in what was going on. You would have given anything to not feel this way again. But right now it was all too much. Even just moving felt like too much of an effort. So you remained numb up in your room, staring blankly at the ceiling. 

You were sure you had traced the patterns in the ceiling at least a hundred times in the last day or so. It was that or overthinking. You couldn’t stop the influx of thoughts. They would come all at once all angry and disappointed. And you would ponder on them for far too long before they vanished just as quickly as they arrived, leaving you once again alone.

Your family had noticed your withdrawal. They had seen you in this state before and it broke their hearts to see  you in it again, but they weren’t sure what to do. The Waynes aren’t exactly known for their emotional intelligence. They thought the next best thing to do was to give you some space, but to extend a hand if you asked for it. You never asked for it. You didn’t know how. And you didn’t want to be a burden to the rest of your family. So you remained silent.

One night, you had decided to venture out of your room. It was a quiet evening. Late autumn so the sun was already beginning to set despite the early hours of the afternoon. It had taken you a long while to decide that you wanted to move, but nevertheless you stood and moved towards your favourite spot; a place that you often found solace in. The armchair was large and plush and positioned by the window so that it caught the last slivers of golden light as they streamed through the window. You curled up on the plush leather, watching the trees shed their leaves and the sky turn a deep blue. It was a few hours later, when the stars had appeared in the sky, when the door cracked open.  The figure was silent, save for their bare feet padding against the wooden flooring. 

It was Jason who approached.  He had a blanket slung over his shoulder and two steaming mugs of hot cocoa in his hands. He paused, studding you for a moment as you stared numbly out the window. He had seen you here before. It brought him a sense of deja vu that he’d rather not feel again. Taking a step forward, he let out a gentle sigh. 

“Hey kiddo….” he started. You glanced up at him. Jason smiled sadly. It was a start. “Brought you your favourite. Thought you might be thirsty.”

He extended a mug towards you. It was topped with cream and marshmallows which were slightly melted. It was just how you liked it. Goddamnit. You took the mug from him and took a sip. The sweet liquid melted on your tongue. 

“Thank you…” You said quietly before the two of you fell into silence. Jason watched you as you went back to staring out of the window, trying to gather the words to say. It was clear that he was worried; they all were. He just didn’t know how to make you feel better. If he could even make you feel better at all. He hated seeing you like this; so lost in the darkness of your own mind. He hated it not only because you were hurting, but also because he knew that feeling all too well. He knew how much it hurt. How difficult it was to feel anything but numb and self hatred. 

“Bad week again?” he asked gently.

You just nodded. Jason always seemed to understand without pressing you. 

“Here…” he handed you the blanket, draping it over your shoulders.You hugged it tight around you, immediately overcome with the sense of familiar comfort. 

Jason didn’t say much more after that and you even less. But he took a seat on the armchair across from you before curling up with his book. It was a simple but effective gesture to show that he was there for you without overwhelming you. You glanced at him, taking a sip of your drink. And for the first time in what felt like forever you began to feel again.

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<- DAY NINETEEN⛧ DAY TWENTY ONE->

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TAGS:

@hearts4robs @kingshitonly @alicedawitchbish @hell-o-kittys @azure-drag0ness @harleycao @thewhispersofthewaves @batfamsstuff @xxrougefangxx @rosecentury @noisymutantherelol @killxz @rhiodes @inlovewhithafairytale @that-wannabe-vangoghgurl @canthavetoomuchchaos

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[4getherandfindher]

I’m breathing but there’s need for more air

My lungs tighten and my heart does too

Thoughts after thoughts after thoughts.

I don’t care but I can’t help that I do.

Can’t choose between loving and smothering.

If I smother them they leave.

I choose to be true to myself.

I smother them with affection.

That’s taken as a threat.

A threat that there will be too much love.

So I chose to be someone else.

A text message after an hour of being on delivered. My heart still hurts and yearns for the attention. But mind is safe because there’s no way for the heart to hurt again.

I don’t smother them I push them away.

With the thought of wondering if they even truly cared.

It’s the 14 year old boy that tore my heart to pieces

It’s the father that I was blessed with

Called a bitch an age 16 to the years I turned 19. Called a whore for wanting love at age 20.

The man I saw when I was 2 I knew he was scary. I had to be brave. At the age 3 for the warmth of something to eat or something to sleep on. A restroom was a privilege at age 5. Everything blurry but my siblings were always in a hurry to empty the bucket that we used to you know…

And I can’t blame my parents for the way that I am. I’m smart I’m loving and caring but I don’t care about others. How was I supposed to care for others when no one cared about me.

I was 9 and I saw my parents fighting.

It became electric so my brother covered my eyes. It was years of being shoved in a room while my ears were ringing. Dishes breaking , screaming, my mother crying.

Then I turned 18, mothers know best right.

You trust the person that gave you life because that’s what the heart says to do.

But when you have a mother choose between two children she’s bared. The boy always wins.

Heart pounding. Hands shaking , screaming. Dishes breaking.

Sounds not too new.

Now I’m the one that fights. with my brother that once protected me from the electric air.

It was the day I turned 18 and I lost all respect for the one that has brought me into this world. I’m 18 my brother is 27.

I just turned legal.

Betrayed is an understatement.

I was a teenager and my mother chose my brothers side.

It was 8:54pm and my brother threw my mother against the wall.

Cocaine. Was the fault of it all.

“You never disrespect the person that brought you into this world “

Is the words my mother has taught us.

Just like my dad my brother fought his own demons.

He punched me on the day I turned 18

You see I don’t want to show I care for them for him for anyone because no man’s has ever cared for me.

From birth , my father chose alcohol over me.

Now I’m 23

And I can’t seem to agree with anyone who chooses to love me.

In the back of my mind I still think it’s my fault.

Wash me in the water

You can love me like a daughter.

And I’ll never be like him.

[stabby-apologist]

“I love you today, I’ll love you more tomorrow. And when you feel the least deserving of it, that’s when I will love you the most.”

[maisnamedmoon]

NEVER EVER AGAIN

Never Ever Again, will I write a character to have gotten stitches, NEVER EVER AGAIN

Because I have as of today about 7 Stitches in my upper thigh (I honestly didn't look close enough when she stitched me back up to have been able to count them), the local anesthetic wore off about 5 hours ago and I am very close to dying rn

So never ever again will I give anyone in any Fic/Headcanon stitches ever again ... It's not fun people ... So not fun

[sn-ryter]

The cracks spread softly, like a quiet reminder that even broken things can hold light. ✨ Fragility is not weakness—it’s a testament to the beauty found in resilience. 🌿💔

[sweetfreedom2107]

I can barely see the tattoo we got together. I can barely remember your name. Whether that is a blessing or the greatest tragedy of my life, I don't know, I'm just trying to not let the itch of the healing wound drive me insane.