#wound cleaning
When the whumpee gets beaten up while protecting the caretaker, and the caretaker helps them get home and patches them up. The caretaker helping the whumpee inside, and settling them on the edge of the bathtub. Them gently cleaning the whumpee’s wounds, and apologizing when they hiss in pain. The caretaker helping them to the couch as soon as they’ve finished patching them up, and them covering the whumpee in a blanket. The caretaker grabbing ice packs and putting them on the worst of the whumpee’s bruises, and the whumpee flinching at the sudden cold. The caretaker apologizing again, and thanking the whumpee for protecting them, and the whumpee thanking them for taking care of them.
When the whumpee sits down to be patched up, and when the caretaker sees their injuries, all they can do is look at them in horror. The caretaker gently pushing them to lay down, and asking why the whumpee didn’t tell them how badly they were hurt as they start to clean the whumpee’s wounds. The whumpee starting to respond, but interrupting themself with a hiss of pain when the antiseptic stings. The caretaker apologizing, and trying to be gentle as they continue to work, and the whumpee admitting that they didn’t mention it because there were other things to worry about. The caretaker scolding them, telling them that while there may have been other things going on, their health is still important, and they still need to tell someone.
Masterpost
CW: captivity, ladywhump, past caning, wound-cleaning, justification of abuse by whumpee (not POV whumpee), implied noncon, slut-shaming.
Monday’s child is fair of face
Tuesday’s child is full of grace
Wednesday’s child is full of woe
Thursday’s child has far to go
Friday’s child is loving and giving
Saturday’s child works hard for a living
And the child that is born on the Sabbath day
Is bonny and blithe, and good and gay.It was Wednesday night or Thursday morning. Kate didn’t want to know. There was a clock on the far wall, over Sunday’s bed, and she’d been turned away from it all night. Instead, all she could see was Wednesday’s empty bed on her left, neatly made up, and beyond that the dim outlines of Lana and Zufira.
Behind her, Friday was waiting up for Wednesday’s return in the small halo of light from her bedside lamp, occasionally unwrapping and rewrapping bandages or rustling packets as she waited.
She had been a doctor, she said. She liked taking care of people and calming them down.
But she hadn’t waited up on Tuesday night and she wouldn’t explain why she was now, so Kate didn’t feel calmed, personally. Sunday had merely recited the stupid little rhyme painted on one of the walls, and that was all it took to shut Friday up. Loving and giving- except, of course, that she didn’t give up even a simple explanation without Sunday’s permission.
She had, at least, found a soothing cream for Kate’s hands after Kate had banged on the doors and walls and windows all of Monday night, despite everyone’s efforts to calm her. At least you got me out of my night, Lana had joked, and when Sunday glared up at her, she just ignored her.
It was what she tended to do, where Friday and Wednesday cowered and Saturday and Tuesday argued and bitched constantly. It didn’t matter, in the end- Sunday was in charge.
It was hard to even think of her as Penelope, when she fit into her role so happily. They weren’t allowed to talk about how they came here, but Lana had whispered that Sunday was the only one who had walked into the situation with her eyes open. For Lana herself, it had been her career threatened first, for a handful of dates, and now her family. They were in London, just hours away, and knew exactly where she was. Not like Saturday, missing and presumed dead, or Wednesday, who didn’t have anyone to look for her.
Kate had replied that the police would come for them soon, that people knew that she’d snuck into the house- and received only a look of pity in return.
The door clicked open.
June 1st- “Once I start, I won’t be able to stop, alright?”
Mhhhhhh wasn’t planning on doing this but now that may is over I need content. I’ll try to post the second today also but I might wait til tmrw
Cw: slight gore, blood, screaming, wounds, wound cleaning
Villain let out a small cry, their entire body stiffening as Hero eased them down onto the couch. Their breath came in short, shallow bursts, each rise and fall of their chest causing a fresh bolt of pain to shoot through their chest.
“Shhh, shhh, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, their voice frantic and hushed as they took a quick step back, raising their hands as if they were afraid to hurt villain more. “I’m sorry- we can’t stay here long, we only have like ten minutes until the police get here-”
Their rambling was cut off as Villain let out another groan, clapping a hand over their mouth as they tried to stifle a cry, barely containing themself.
“Ff-fuck, get- get th-” They whimpered, a tear dripping down their flushed cheek as they clutched the rag tighter against the wound. Warm blood bubbled up from the terrible cut , soaking through the scraps of fabric and staining the cushions below them.
“Oh-” Hero blanched, suddenly remembering what the whole point of returning to their apartment was. They quickly turned, dashing to the bathroom and throwing open the cabinets door.
Toothbrushes and combs, bottles of unopened shampoo and conditioner flew through the air, creating a commotion that would have been comical given any other situation.
“I GOT IT!” Hero yelled, nearly hitting their head on the sink as they stood up, tripping over their own feet as they sprinted back to the living room.
In a quick movement, they ripped open the first aid kit, and dumped the contents out on the rug.
Bandaids… gauze… q-tips.. -was that a flashlight?
Hero didn’t have time to question Villain’s organization as they found what they were looking for, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic and a stray piece of gauze.
“Villain- hey Villain, I need you to look at me,” Their voice was higher than normal, their nerves seeping into their tone as they watched the bloodstain across Villain’s front but surely grow. “You know- you know that once I start this, I- I won’t be able to stop, right?” They asked as they twisted the cap off the bottle, soaking the solution onto the gauze.
Villain only whimpered in response, their face scrunching in pain as they slowly pulled their hand away from the wound, allowing Hero access.
Hero’s stomach flipped, bile creeping up the back of their throat as they examined the deep gash across the mess of blood and muscle that was once Villain’s abdomen.
“This- this is going to hurt, I’m sorry,” Hero whispered, quickly bringing the gauze to the wound.
