#tonsillectomy whump

[3-2-whump]

Mini-Comfortember Day 9

Prompt 9: Home(wards)

And so concludes @azertyrobaz's mini-comfortember! Thank you so much for having this event, I enjoyed writing/drawing/creating for it so much!

This story is inspired by this art work, which took place after this chapter.

TW/CW: medical whump, aftermath of a surgery (tonsillectomy), slave whump, intimate whumper, (temporarily) nonverbal whumpee

“Awww, my sweet boy, did you miss me?” Thomas asked.

He knew Khaled might not respond, with his throat still healing a mere twelve hours after surgery. However, the way the boy pressed up into him and buried his face into the crook of his neck communicated the exact answer he was hoping for. “Yeah, that’s what I thought,” he replied smugly.

He enjoyed the clinginess for another minute or so, then carefully broke the embrace to pass his slave a backpack. “It’s a spare change of clothes -some of your more comfortable ones- and a cup of applesauce,” he explained. His dear boy was still shirtless, with nothing but the red sarong on his waist and golden chains on his body. And he knew he hadn’t eaten since yesterday afternoon. “I figured you’d probably want out of that, and to eat something besides whatever intravenous crap Lenore’s been feeding you.”

Khaled took the backpack and unzipped it to inspect its contents. A t-shirt, a pair of yoga pants, clean boxer briefs, socks, sneakers, and a cup of applesauce (sans spoon to eat it with) –it was all there. The boy smiled, then looked up to his master with gratitude written all over his expression. “Thank y-”

Thomas raised a hand. “Stop. Stop talking. Stop, you sound terrible.” Khaled shut his mouth and hung his head self-consciously, rummaging through the backpack and taking out each item one by one to lay on his hospital bed. Thomas sighed. He only said that so as not to aggravate the healing process; the sooner Khaled’s throat healed, the sooner they could resume their usual activities, but until then? “Don’t talk any more than necessary, and finish getting changed while I get you discharged,” he told him. Khaled had already slipped out of the jewelry and was tugging on the t-shirt when he left him to check out.

A desk was positioned outside of the winding corridors and near the front of the entrance they passed through late last night. Another woman, dark-skinned with limp wavy hair, sat at the desk, staring dead-eyed at the computer as she input data and intermittently slurped a liquid from a straw in a tumbler. The austere-looking collar around her throat marked her as another one of the doctor’s …assistants... Unlike the last one though, this ‘assistant’ didn’t have a scar over where her vocal chords would be.

The printer whirred to life behind her as it output page after page of discharge paperwork. The woman swiveled around in her desk chair and retrieved it, as well as a bottle of mystery pills she conjured up from below the desk. “Read this, sign this, pay here, and make him take these,” she recited lifelessly. She took another loud slurp of the mystery beverage.

Thomas skimmed the paperwork, signed and dated where he needed to, and only groaned a little when he slid the payment across the desk. A visit to Lenore was going to be expensive, he’d prepared for and accepted that fact, but it still hurt to fork over so much money, even if it was for a good cause.

Speaking of which, that good cause came hesitantly walking out to the front desk area, fully changed now, with the backpack slung over one shoulder. Thomas quickly forgot how much money he’d just dropped. What mattered was that Khaled would get better, and that he wouldn’t have to go another night without him. “Come on, boy,” he beckoned. The slave came to his side quickly, letting himself be led out of the clinic doors. “Let’s go home.”

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz

@bamber344 @there-will-always-be-blood @morning-star-whump @a-la-whump @watermelons-dont-grow-on-trees

@defire @phoenixpromptsandstuff @scumashling

[hufflepuffwritingstuff2]

can u please continue the uninjured hero story, i wanna know what happens nexxttt

Hi Anon! Sure I can! Here you go!

part 1

Hero opened their eyes to a blurry, white room. The first thing they noticed was the fact that their throat was sore. Very sore. The second thing they noticed was the IV in their arm. Hero reached to pull it out but stopped when they heard a door open.

“Hello, Hero,” Villain said, entering the room.

“You!” Hero exclaimed, sitting up.

“How are you feeling?” Villain asked.

Hero stared at Villain incredulously. Villain had essentially kidnapped them and held them in their evil little hospital against their will, and now they wanted to know how Hero was feeling!?

“What did you do to me?” Hero asked, rubbing their throbbing throat.

“You didn’t answer my question, Hero.” Villain pulled up a chair and sat down next to Hero’s bed, “how are you feeling? Are you in any pain?”

Well, yes, Hero thought, my throat is killing me. And I’m cold. And tired. And I just want to go home! But I’m not telling them that.

“Hero, if you don’t answer my questions, I’m going to assume you’re in too much pain to talk and I’m going to have to put you back under.”

Fine, Hero thought.

“My throat really hurts,” Hero finally said.

“Well, the painkillers should start kicking in any minute now,” Villain replied.

Without warning, Villain put a hand to Hero’s forehead. Hero pulled their head away, frowning at the sudden contact.

“Hm, a small fever, but that’s to be expected.” Villain said.

That explains why I’m cold, Hero thought.

“Are you going to just leave me in the dark forever, or are you going to tell me what you did to me?” Hero asked sharply.

“Have you ever heard of tonsillitis, Hero?” Villain asked.

What the heck? What did that have to do with anything?

“You mean that thing that little kids get sometimes?” Hero asked.

“Yes, although adults can suffer from it as well. In fact, I have a patient coming in next week with tonsillitis. They’re going to be having a tonsillectomy to resolve the issue. Although, it’s been quite some time since I’ve performed a tonsillectomy… until a few hours ago, that is.”

“You took my tonsils!?” Hero yelled, wincing at the pain it caused in their throat.

“Oh please, it’s not like you needed them,” Villain said, “Remember all those times you’d fail to show up to our fights because of strep throat? I’ve just solved your problem.”

“You had no right-” Hero started.

“Hero, they’re tonsils. Why are you emotionally attached to a pair of tissues?”

“You just did surgery on me without my consent! And I- woah…”

Hero was starting to feel the effects of the painkillers Villain had mentioned earlier. They fell back against the pillows, unable to hold their head up.

“Ah, about time,” Villain said.

Villain pulled the blankets up to Hero’s chin and smoothed them over.

“Don’t worry, Hero, I’ll have you home soon. You’re going to want to stay put for a week or two, and drink plenty of fluids, you don’t want to get dehydrated.”

“You monster,” Hero slurred.

“Me? A monster?” Villain feigned innocence, “I’m just making sure my favorite nemesis doesn’t get any more respiratory infections, what’s the harm in that?”

“I’m…mad…at…you…”

“There’ll be plenty of time for that when you wake up,” Villain said, standing up, “sleep well, Hero.”

Villain turned and left the way they came, closing the door softly behind them. Hero’s eyes fluttered closed, and they were asleep once again.

[nurse-buckley]

This or That (Whump Edition)

Bold you favourite! List created by @whumpingthroughlife

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

Tagging: @fireladybuckley @firemedicdiaz @muchamusedaboutnothing and anyone else who wants to take part!

[kinkykinard]

This or That (Whump Edition)

Tagged by the wonderful @enterprise-medical!

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

Consider yourselves tagged if you’d like to participate! ❤

[snezfics-n-shit]

Here is the ao3 collection of all my Ace Attorney entries for the Alt Sickfic Whumptober 2020

Chapters listed in order of when they were posted with info on the era/timeline setting (if applicable), whumped character, pairings (if any), and whump and/or snz category. For people looking for exclusively snz, all snz-inclusive entries will be marked with “*”

Autumn* - 7 year gap, Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Allergies

Cough - Post-SoJ, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Bronchitis

Blankets* - Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Cold

Headache* - 2013 post-Terry Fawles and pre-poisoning/coma, Diego Armando, Miego, Allergies

Couch* - Phoenix Wright and Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Overheating* - Post-T&T, Godot, Miego, Cold

Break* - 7 year gap, Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Allergies

Hospital - Trilogy Era, Miles Edgeworth, Appendectomy Recovery

Belly Ache* - Pre-JFA, Dick Gumshoe, Cold

Tissues* - Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Allergies

Thermometer* - Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Strep Throat - 7 year gap, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Strep Throat

Air Sick - 7 year gap, Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Anxiety/Fear of Heights

Popsicles - 7 year gap, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Tonsillectomy Recovery

Bath* - Trilogy Era, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Comfort Food* - 1994, Gregory Edgeworth, Cold

Dizzy* - AJ Era, Klavier Gavin, Allergies

Cold* - Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Ice Pack - Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, High Fever

Sniffles* - Somewhere long after T&T, Franziska von Karma, Fradrian, Cold

Airport* - Post-Class Trial, Gregory Edgeworth, Allergies

Exhaustion* - Post-SoJ, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Shiver - Post-SoJ, Larry Butz, feat. Wrightworth, Flu

Flushed - 7 year gap, Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Fifth Disease

Cranky* - Post-DD, Miles Edgeworth, Wrightworth, Cold

Faint - Post-SoJ, Godot, High Fever

Flu - 7 year gap, Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Flu

Concussion - JFA after case 1, Phoenix Wright, Concussion

Allergy* - Post-SoJ, Godot, Allergies

Mono - Post-AJ, Klavier Gavin and Apollo Justice, Klapollo, Mono

Halloween* - (Two Parts) [2001 Half:] Gregory Edgeworth, Cold / [2021 half:] Phoenix Wright, Wrightworth, Cold

[whumpingthroughlife]

This or That (Whump edition)

I like doing those This or That games where you tag people, so I made this one up.  Bold the ones that you prefer.  I’ll go first!

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

Even if I don’t tag you, go ahead and do it if you want to! Just as a reminder, please reblog this when you do it rather than make your own post so that I can see all your answers.Thanks!

I tag: @mypoorfaves @poor-sickies @bigwhumpus @whumpitgood @dontyoubleedoutonme @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort

[stoic-whumpee]

This or That - Whump Edition

Tagged by my dearest @quirkykayleetam

(OMG I am indecisive because my head keeps going “Both, both are good”)

Broken ankle or broken wrist: 

>>> Harder to get away. And also when the whumpee tries to run with a broken ankle and every step they take is pure agony. But they have to keep trying anyway, keep on running as every moment they stop to take a breath is a moment whumper gets closer. And when eventually they collapse and black out from the pain, and whumper catches them? When all their pain is futile and they are back under whumper’s thumb? Yes please!

Bruised ribs or a concussion 

>>> I was really conflicted with this one because concussions??? Yes??? The confusion, the fatigue, the disorientation just get me!!! But you can take care of bruised ribs on your own. And whumpee who gets hurt but hides their injuries from their teammates (*cough* because they don’t care about whumpee *cough*) and bandage their own wounds? Wincing everytime they move?  Swallowing down every whimper when pain pierces through their chest as they try to breath? They will cry, but wipe their tears away because there is no one else who cares to comfort them. 

CPR or the heimlich

>>> Not much to say, I just don’t really care about the heimlich that much?

Falling off a cliff or almost drowning

>>> That moment of suspense as whumpee plummets toward their death, knowing that there is nothing they can do to stop it. Whumpee’s body, lying broken on the ground - most likely lost forever. And whumpee’s friends, who see them fall, reaching out desperately for whumpee but is one second too late, and their fingers brush against each other, and the friend sees the terror in whumpee’s eyes. Then whumpee is gone. Gravity pulls them down down down as the friend looks down - or maybe they can’t even bring themself to do so - as whumpee disappears from view, swallowed by the forest below. 

Shot or stabbed 

>>> Much more personable isn’t it? :D

Broken nose or broken fingers

>>> You see, you have one nose and a lot more fingers.

Physical pain or emotional

>>> Hnnnn If I ask nicely can I have emotional pain that is brought by untreated physical pain? Or emotional pain so deep that they actually physically hurt whumpee? 

Sickness or injuries

>>> 

Romantic caretakers or platonic

>>> Friendship is Important!

Appendicitis or pneumonia 

>>> Chest pain! Fever! Coughing! (Bonus point if whumpee tries to hide their cough and cannot!) Just generally feeling like you’re trapped inside an inescapable prison of heat and misery! 

Car accident or building collapse

>>> Less likely chance to be rescued, longer time to be rescued. But also if you survive but trapped, you have space to do something to keep surviving for a while longer. Until you realise that help might never come in time and the desperation starts setting in. The quiet, the uncertainty, the closed off space and collapsed walls starting to close in on you. Can you really come out whole and alive? 

Sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper 

>>> Nature can be cruel, but nothing beats the things a human can do to another human. 

Collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes 

>>> A caretaker who overworks themself too much tending to their teammates. Only when everybody is bandaged and fed and tucked into bed, etc. that the caretaker drags themself back into the room and allow their knees to buckle beneath them and they collapse onto the floor. The next day, they wake up and get ready to do it all over again. 

Heart problems or ruptured spleen 

>>> More options for how whumpee gets that kind of injury. 

Broken collarbone or broken knee // Crutches or sling 

>>> Leg injuries are my jam. 

Wheelchair or cane

>>> You can hide a sword in a cane :D 

Tonsillectomy or appendectomy 

>>> Um what? 

Broken bones or dislocated limbs

>>> More gory and painful? Take longer time to recover? If it doesn’t heal correctly It can cause lasting damage and chronic pain? 

Feel free to do this if you like :) 

(This is a lot. Let me know if there’s any tag I should add) 

[aceofwhump]

This or That (Whump edition)

I was tagged by @animewhump :D Thanks for the tag!

Bold the ones you prefer:

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich // falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

That was fun thanks! I’ll tag @theladyoffangorn @aliceinwhumperland @shadow-warren-whump @random-fandom-whump @deepwoundsandfadedscars and anyone else who wants to do it!

[thefevertrope]

This or That (Whump edition)

I was tagged by @poor-sickies

:D I love tag games <3

Bold the ones you prefer:

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the Heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

I tag: anyone who hasn’t been/wants to do this ;) 

[callaeidae3]

This or That (Whump edition)

I was tagged by @poor-sickies ! Thank you!! ❤️

Bold the ones you prefer:

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

I'll tag @arwenride @justheretobreakthings @whumptron and inclusive tag for anyone else who wants to do this!

[irondadfanfics]

by HiddenSt0rms

It’s not uncommon to have a sore throat in the wintertime, especially in a crowded place like Queens. It’s also not uncommon for said sore throat to turn out to be strep. But what is uncommon is for this to be the seventh throat problem this year.

Leave it to Peter’s luck to need his tonsils out right before Christmas.

Or: Tony knows just what to get Peter for Christmas following his tonsillectomy.

Words: 933, Chapters: 1/1, Language: English

Series: Part 11 of Marvel Sickfics

Fandoms: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies)

Rating: General Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Categories: Gen

Characters: Peter Parker, Happy Hogan, Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe), Tony Stark

Relationships: Peter Parker & Tony Stark, Peter Parker & Morgan Stark (Marvel Cinematic Universe)

Additional Tags: Sickfic, Surgery, Whumptober 2019, Peter Parker Whump, Sick Peter Parker, Irondad, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Parent Tony Stark, Tony Stark Acting as Peter Parker's Parental Figure, Fluff, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Peter Parker Needs a Hug

[3-2-whump]

Doctor of Nonpersons

<prev next>

A.K.A., the author takes inspiration from their own tonsillectomy! Fortunately, for the author's procedure, the doctors were legitimate and used anesthesia, so a lot of this was extensively researched and imagined instead of being experienced first hand (thankfully!) Special thanks goes out once again to @whumped-by-glitter for beta reading.

Read this chapter before hand, or you will not understand the references made to the Key Game

TW/CW: nsfwhump, medical whump, multiple whumpers, institutionalized slavery, noncon drugging (injection), blood, graphic description of tonsillectomy, restraints

It took Khaled only half the time to find the key nowadays, with Nico’s assistance. Even if they didn’t see each other for lunch anymore, Nico would always text him late at night as soon as he knew who had the key. It was a gesture Khaled deeply appreciated from his friend, and he thanked Nico generously each time, but all Nico wanted in return was the truth, and he had yet to give it to him.

Of course, knowing where the key was didn’t change the fact that Khaled still had to degrade himself to get the key, and now there was the added element of waiting until a reasonable amount of time had passed before presenting the key to his master, lest the man become suspicious. Don Thomas Costa was a smart man, he would find out eventually, and Khaled found himself dreading the day the key game would have to be forcefully put to an end. But it didn’t end the way he had thought it would.

-

“Is your dancer okay? He looks kinda sick.”

Khaled’s head swam as he reluctantly detached himself from his master’s arm and straightened his posture. The boss had dragged him out to one of those parties again, forcing him to wear that same red outfit that revealed everything. He didn’t want to go; he never felt up for being stripped and dolled up and displayed like this, but especially not tonight. His throat was so sore he could barely talk, drink, or eat for the past few days, so he didn’t. The lack of food and water made him weak, his head throbbing with an underlying current of nausea throughout. And it was hot, so hot, and yet he couldn’t stop shivering. Even the simple act of standing hurt. He wanted to go home.

Thomas covered for him. “He’s fine, he’s just a bit tired, right? Go on, boy,” he implored, his tone on the knife-edge of civility. “Tell him you’re fine.”

All that came out of Khaled’s inflamed throat was a pathetic wheeze. Understandably deterred, the guest who checked on him immediately retreated, side-eyeing Thomas all the while. As soon as he could confirm no one was paying attention to them, Thomas grabbed Khaled’s wrist and dragged him to the nearest private place.

He took refuge behind a large potted palm tree. “What’s wrong with you?” he whisper-hissed. He forcefully gripped Khaled’s face in his hand and craned his head up to meet his eyes. “You’re burning up, are you sick or something?”

Khaled tried his best to nod with his head in such an awkward positon.

Thomas huffed. “Why didn’t you tell me? Why did you have to wait until we were in public? Are you trying to make me look bad?”

“I’m sorry, Master…my throat… it…” The words ground abrasively out of Khaled’s sore throat.

His master’s gray eyes widened in realization. He let go of his face and reached into his pocket to retrieve his phone. “Open,” he commanded.

The young man’s jaw dropped with a practiced ease. His master turned on the light to his phone and shone it straight into his mouth. If the silently whispered “oh my god” was anything to go by, then it must have looked as bad in there as it felt. Twisted as it was, he was almost glad Thomas deemed him sick, too, if only to validate his suffering. “Okay, close.”

Khaled reflexively closed his mouth. The older man scrolled through his phone, muttering all the while. “This isn’t some common cold, this is far beyond what I could do treating you at home. I’d really rather not take you to the hospital; I have a fake ID and a convincing backstory for you, but I’d have a tough time explaining away all your disciplinary marks-” Thomas cut himself off with a groan. Then, in a move Khaled had never seen before, the boss heaved a reluctant, almost defeated sigh.

“Master?” he rasped.

“It’s decided then,” he said bitterly, “I’ll have to take you to her.”

Thomas had only heard secretive whispers and unsubstantiated rumors about this clinic, and those whispers and rumors yielded mixed reviews, to put it nicely. However, Khaled was sick enough for him to drive across state lines in the dead of night to find one obscure little shop front in an unfamiliar city, to put his pride aside and ask for the help of someone who might not even help him anyway.

A short, waif-like, collared redhead answered the door. She took one look at him and Khaled with her tired blue eyes before opening the door wider and silently ushering them in. Thomas noticed a neat vertical scar running down the front of her neck. Looks like I’ve found the right place.

The mute slave girl led them past a harshly-lit waiting room, through a maze of narrow corridors decorated with unobjectionable photography, and into a tiny room with two plastic chairs and the typical examination table in the middle. Thomas was impressed that it was almost like any other medical clinic, but perturbed by the distant screams and weak sobbing sounds coming from the neighboring rooms. The redhead closed the door behind her as she left. A faint clicking noise as she left indicated that they were locked inside.

A warm weighted pressure on his right redirected Thomas’ feelings of dread and regret. Khaled was clinging to his arm, looking up at him with terrified eyes. He was trembling, whether it was because of the fear, the fever, or because he was still in that damn dancer outfit, Thomas wasn’t sure. “I’m sorry, boy. I don’t like it either, but this was our only option,” he sighed.

The door unlocked and opened with a faint click as the doctor came in to their room. She was a woman in her early forties, wearing a white lab coat over business casual clothes, who nearly dropped her tablet as she noticed them standing in the exam room. She blinked once, twice, and adjusted the glasses on her face. “I don’t believe this,” she gasped. “Is that you, Thomas?”

“Lennie Sal…”

The woman frowned –something she seemed to have done quite often in the intermittent years since he’d seen her. “You know damn well you’ve lost the right to call me that,” she replied, her tone turning frosty.

Thomas groaned. This bitch. He remembered why he’d never kept in touch with her. “Lenore,” he sighed through gritted teeth, “I need to call in a favor.”

The woman squinted at the feverish slave leaning on his shoulder. “That one yours?”

“Who’s else would he be?” Thomas guided Khaled to the raised examination table and lifted him onto it. It took everything in the boy to keep himself in an upright seated position; he started leaning to one side as soon as Thomas took his hands away.

“I’d heard rumors, but never actually thought you would acquire a nonperson,” she shrugged. She gave Khaled a quick once over before going to the sink to wash her hands. “Though, from the looks of him, I can see why you bought him. You certainly did have a type after Afghanistan,” she commented with a wry side-eye.

Thomas deliberately ignored that comment. “He’s got a fever, and a sore throat. When I shone my phone light down his throat, it was all red and irritated. And his tonsils looked, I don’t know, pitted?”

Lenore had just pulled on a new pair of gloves. “That so?” Turning to her patient now, the doctor adopted a completely different demeanor. “Open.” Khaled’s jaw dropped on reflex as he stretched his mouth wide and stuck out his tongue invitingly. “A little further out, like that –yeah, just like that, good boy,” she praised, much like a veterinarian to a pet. Taking out her penlight, she peered down the young man’s throat and confirmed what Thomas had suspected. “Yup, they’re infected. They’re basically nuclear.” She withdrew her instrument and directed Khaled to close his mouth. “I won’t bother asking why you didn’t come to me sooner,” Lenore began, “but the point is you’ve come to me now.” She gently but firmly pushed Khaled down onto the examination table and reached underneath for a set of straps. “Has he taken any of the following meds in the past ten days?” she asked, following up her question with a rapid-fire list of OTCs.

Thomas shook his head. “No, don’t think so,” he replied.

“Has he eaten or drunk anything in the past several hours?” Lenore restrained Khaled’s wrists and upper torso snugly to the table with the straps.

“Nothing we can’t just make him throw up, right?” The flat, unimpressed stare Lenore gave him made Thomas cringe. “No, he hasn’t eaten since lunch, about ten hours ago, and I don’t think he even ate that much.”

She had just finished securing the young man’s legs and ankles. “Hold his head in place,” she directed with an offhanded wave. There was a clatter of a compartment opening under the examination table. “Intimate types seem to do well with the physical contact they get from their masters during procedures. The touch grounds them, I think,” she explained, fishing around the compartment until she found the tool she needed.

Khaled recognized it right away, shaking his head and whispering a hoarse “please, no, Master, please-” Thomas locked both hands on each side of the boy’s head, just as he’d been directed, to keep him from turning away as the doctor worked the open-mouthed gag in between his teeth.

“There, that wasn’t so bad, was it?” Lenore asked as she buckled it tight behind the boy’s head. She gave his distended cheeks a condescending pat before addressing the man above him. “So, do you want me to give him something for the pain, or should I just get in there and…” She made crude snipping motions with her index and middle fingers.

Thomas scoffed, unbelieving that such a sweet girl like her could’ve become so cold. “God yes, woman! Of course, I don’t want him to feel it!”

“Hey, hey, doesn’t hurt to ask,” she defended. She lowered her head to address her patient again. “You’ve got such a considerate master, pretty boy. Looks like he ‘doesn’t want you to feel it,’ isn’t that nice?” she said with a smile.

Khaled let out a pitiful whine.

The doctor turned toward a mysterious rack of vials and tinctures as she procured a sterile needle from a drawer under her desk. “You’re going to have the best twenty minutes of your life,” she promised as she siphoned out an esoteric blend of medicines from the bottles.

Thomas frowned skeptically at the rack as his former lover hummed a song they once danced to under her breath. “Wait, what exactly are you giving him?”

“Oh, just a custom cocktail of sedatives and psychotropic drugs,” Lenore explained. She inserted the needle into a vein of one of Khaled’s restrained hands –though not without difficulty, considering how much he squirmed. She emptied the contents of the syringe completely into the boy’s bloodstream. “It won’t knock him out completely, but it should dull the pain, as well as the rest of his senses.” She sat back with a smug smile as she withdrew the needle. “It’s relatively quick too, just like hospital-grade anesthetics. Look at him.”

Thomas looked down. The young man lay motionless on the examination table, his body slack against the restraints. His eyes were hazed over, distant, and half-lidded. Thomas waved a hand over those blank eyes. The only indication he was still in the world of the living was the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. “Wow, out already?” he asked incredulously.

“Not out,” Lenore gently corrected, “just too sluggish to put up a fight. Now hold his head straight for me, please.”

Thomas repositioned Khaled’s head between his hands. He tried not to think of how close in proximity Lenore was to him as she bent over the boy’s mouth. Her hair now had thin threads of silver running through its thick chestnut brown ponytail. He resisted every urge to reach out and touch it. He knew he’d lost that right years ago.

“So…” he began, punctuating the silence, “what have you been up to?”

“Oh cut the crap, and hold his tongue out for me,” she instructed brusquely. Thomas carefully reached into Khaled’s mouth to pinch his tongue between his thumb and index finger and extended it gently. It was hard to get a grip on the slippery little thing, which prompted Lenore to hand him a gauze pad to place between his fingers and Khaled’s tongue, giving him a much better grip.

“What I guess I’m trying to say, Len-Lenore…” It wouldn’t do to piss off the lady holding surgical tools down his slave boy’s throat. “-is do you ever wonder why it didn’t work out between us?” Thomas asked.

“Not really,” his ex-fiancée shrugged.

The motion of her shoulders jiggled the forceps and electrocauterizing pen in a way that made a cold bead of sweat run down Thomas’ back. He blinked, just to give his body something to do while his brain formulated his next words carefully. “Look, if it was because of the family business that made you change your mind, you could’ve just told me-”

“It wasn’t,” Lenore interrupted. She gently pulled away the irritated tissue with her forceps as the pen severed its connection to the wall like butter. “You know, I wouldn’t have even minded –hold his tongue further out,” she instructed, resuming her thoughts as soon as Thomas had done as she asked. “I didn’t mind the killing, the extortion, the cheating, but I just didn’t like that you lied to me about it!”

“Well, what was I supposed to do-”

“Tell me the truth, Tom! That’s all I ever wanted, the truth!” The wet splotchy sound of freshly excised tissue hitting the bottom of a stainless-steel bowl punctuated her argument.

“Wait, is this about you walking in on me blowing the priest?” Thomas guessed.

“No, no, it’s because it was hot that day, and –of course it’s because of you blowing the fucking priest on the day of our fucking wedding!” she screamed. “It’s because of all those times your smile didn’t meet your eyes, those times you’d pull your hand away from mine as soon as we were truly alone, those times when your head would turn as soon as you saw a-” The second tonsil soon joined its twin in the bowl, its own sound no less wet and splotchy. “-without even giving me a second glance! You and your fucking family who saw me as nothing more than a jewel to your crown, so just admit it –you never loved me!”

“Renée Lenore Salvatore!” Thomas hissed, ignoring the bleeding gashes her barbed words left on his heart. She looked up at him in equal mixtures of shock and anger that he dared to use her full name. “Never assume that what I felt for you wasn’t real!” Thomas cried. “Maybe you’re right in that I never loved you like I should have, but never say I never loved you.”

A small moan rose from below him. He glanced down at the examination table, and Khaled’s glassy, unfocused eyes stared back. “At any rate, let’s not argue in front of him, okay? All this shouting is probably stressing him out.” He leaned forward to give Khaled’s forehead a reassuring kiss.

Lenore gently removed her tools from Khaled’s mouth, setting them aside the metal tray with the severed tonsils. “Fortunately, we’re basically done with the procedure now,” she said as she swatted him away. She leaned over Khaled’s head again, unbuckling the gag before pulling it out of his mouth.

Khaled remained slack-jawed. Thomas had to close his mouth for him. “You don’t need to stitch anything up?” he asked curiously.

“No. The pen cauterizes the flesh as it cuts, sealing off any blood vessels along the way,” Lenore explained. She moved on to undoing the straps on the table next. Thomas joined her unprompted as he undid the other side.

“I gotta ask, though,” Lenore piped up, seemingly out of nowhere. “Is his primary role what I think it is?” The devious smirk on her face as she threw away her bloodied gloves filled in the blanks.

Thomas nodded, averting her knowing eyes. She (understandably) didn’t take it too well when she caught him in the act with a priest twice their age. He could only imagine how painful this must be for his ex-fiancée, to see the man she had loved strolling in with a pleasure slave half her age.

Whatever she must have felt was kept perfectly masked behind her ‘good doctor’ act. “And are you sharing him, or is he exclusively yours?”

“Mine, for the most part…” Thomas trailed off, remembering the devious Key Game he’d invented. The woman waited for him to finish. “I mean, at least his ass is all mine,” Thomas explained, though not without going red from embarrassment.

“Ah.” Wordlessly, though not without a heavy air of judgment, she typed something into her tablet. Thomas swallowed down the embarrassment and the morbid curiosity to see what she wrote in the post-op notes.

“The next part involves monitoring him for any complications within the next twelve hours,” Lenore told him. “Now, nobody expects you to stay here for twelve hours, so drive home, get this poor thing some actual clothes, and come back in the morning.”

“But-”

“It’s fine,” she reassured. She flashed him a familiar smile, though far less warm and happy than he remembered. “I know how people get around certain pets, and I can see you’re one of them. Your boy will be fine, I promise.”

With her peace said, she tucked the tablet under her arm and walked toward the door.

“Lenore,” Thomas implored. The woman of his dreams turned around, hand gripping the door knob, resting bitch face back as she stared blankly through him. “I’m sorry I hurt you,” he said truthfully.

A melancholy darkening of her dull brown eyes lasted for only a second as she dropped her gaze to the linoleum floor. “Yeah, well… I’m sorry I let you.” Her white lab coat swished lightly as she walked through the open door. “You may pick your pet up after the twelve-hour observation period, where I will have a detailed post-op care sheet for you to follow to the letter. Bella will see you out now.” And with a final swish of her coat, she was gone.

-

POST-OP CARE SHEET FOR THOMAS J. COSTA

Nonperson: Khaled

Procedure: Tonsillectomy

Stitches: No

General Comfort: Keep him at home for one to two weeks, avoid exposure to sick people during these one to two weeks. He will likely be tired and still have a sore throat for the first week; that is normal. He may also feel pain in the ears, neck or jaw, nausea, and like something is stuck in the back of his throat; that too is normal. Please contact this clinic if Khaled shows any excessive bleeding, a fever exceeding 102�� F, difficulty swallowing or breathing, signs of dehydration, and/or if he is not responding to pain medication.

Exercise: No strenuous physical activity for two weeks after surgery.

Feeding: Keep him hydrated, plenty of fluids, nothing too acidic. Soft foods are recommended, nothing too acidic, nor spicy, nor crunchy so as not to irritate the throat.

Medication: Antibiotics and pain medications as directed.

Sexual Activity: falls under strenuous activity, also see note below.

Any Additional Notes: STOP PIMPING HIM OUT TO OTHER PEOPLE, YOU ARE SO LUCKY HE ONLY GOT INFECTED TONSILS THIS TIME!

Khaled may return to his duties when he can eat a normal diet, sleep throughout the night, and no longer need pain medication.

Schedule a post-op assessment: xx/xx/20xx

Le Tag List: @kabie-whump @rainydaywhump @whumped-by-glitter @skittles-the-whumpee @generic-whumperz @bamber344

[quirkykayleetam]

This or That (Whump Edition)

This is from the glorious @whumpingthroughlife.  No one tagged me, but I thought it looked fantastic, so here we go!

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

I’ll put my reasoning in the tags and tag (if you want to do this) @stoic-whumpee, @castielamigos, @straight-to-the-pain, @whumpty-dumpty-fell-off-the-wall, @icecubelotr44, @hollyethecurious, @whump-whump-whump-it-up, @whump-queen, @killian-whump, and anyone else who wants to do this!

[animewhump]

This or That (Whump edition)

I was tagged by @vcepsis thanks so much!!

Bold the ones you prefer:

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich // falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

I’ll tag @whumpty-dumpty @whumpgalore @thefevertrope @faintandcollapse @hurtcomfortetc @alipeeps and @aceofwhump sorry if you're already tagged!!

[poor-sickies]

what’s your fav thing to write about? like,, fav illness, fav symptom,, fav.... uh, reaction to illness.. jusr,,, things you like writing about🌻

Well, if you've been following me for long enough, you'll probably notice I prefer writing injury over illness.

My favorite thing to write has to be broken bones. Depending on my mood, I either go for the angst route, or a more lighthearted story, and even the angst ones don't have much at stake, usually the kind of angst they involve is characters being mad at each other or feeling guilty (which I do love writing about), and it's rarely about someone dying / being close to death.

As for illness, ehhh I'm gonna have to go with tonsillitis as my favorite, and the one I write more easily.

For reading, if it's about a tonsillectomy recovery, definitely hit me up, I rarely find those with the characters I want and I love them.

Characters losing their voice, or having trouble talking because their throats hurts is probably what I most love in sickfic.

For injuries it's a tie between the fragility and struggle of the character with reduced mobility and the pain the brings.

Reaction to illness... well I do tend to like characters hiding their injury/illness until someone calls them out on their own bullshit. Characters who are not the type to usually like affection, but who secretly crave it when they're not feeling well. Characters who have a certain difficulty in opening up and being vulnerable and being forced to ask for help because they are sick/injured.

Other than that, anything I write for my Voltron band AU I do it out of pure love and self indulgence. I started doing this one because I adore band AUs, and ended up liking this so much I have detailed back stories and events for the characters and a set timeline for when things happen.

I also enjoy writing whump about relatable and ordinary scenarios like allergies, wisdom teeth, lost voice due to too much use, exhaustion, and other stuff that doesn't necessarily involve an illness or injury. I did have a lot of fun writing that prompt for the band AU where Lance gets braces, because it's a very common and relatable thing, and it does have great whump potential. This being said, I'm a very open minded person. Sometimes people send asks with awesome suggestions or prompts I would have though about on my own.

Thank you for sending this ask! I really enjoy talking about these things :D

[rangergirl3]

This or That (Whump edition)

I was tagged by @poor-sickies

Thank you so much!! :D This is fun <3

Bold the ones you prefer:

Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs

I tag @maychorian @noisypaintersong @darkstrangevirgilanxiboi @fractalabomination @zenthisoror @ookamisoulreaper @callaeidae3 @arwenrider @arrowcomix @avidbeader and anyone else who would like to join!