#refeeding syndrome whump

[fakegingerrights]

I have ✨ideas✨ so yall are getting a prompt list today. Fluff /angst mostly whump. Written with @renon4224 and @endo-bunny in mind for inspo but can be used for anyone:

TW: Starvation, emetophobia, torture, body horror, cannibalism, forced cannibalism, etc.

Whumpee who is used to being strong, being capable, reduced to a skeleton who can barely move due to starvation.

Whumper punishing a starved whumpee by forcing them to eat after days or weeks of next to nothing, their old favorite foods and laughing as they can’t keep it down.

Eating in front of a whumpee who hasn’t eaten in days

Punishing whumpee for being sick when they are allowed to eat because their stomachs can’t handle it.

Caretaker trying to get whumpee to eat and whumpee vomiting it back up, having seizures and heart failure and wildly swinging blood sugar that comes with refeeding syndrome.

Whumper making whumpee exercise, knowing they can’t complete the sets and adding more on for every failure/fainting spell/break they need.

^ building off of that, whumper makes whumpee do challenging or potentially dangerous workouts like bench presses and free bar squats and refuses to help when Whumpee is nearly crushed by the bar. Bonus points if it’s a weight they know they can handle/what would have been a warmup for them before.

Feeding! Tube! Placement!

Whumper getting tired of whumpee refusing food because it’s always poisoned/spoiled/out of sheer defiance and forcing the tube through their nose and securing it with a lock so they can’t pull it out. Bonus points if they keep giving them poisoned/spoiled food through the tube or otherwise putting things through it that aren’t meant to be.

Rescued whumpee in the hospital tearing the tube out every chance they get even though they can’t keep down solid food.

Caretakers having to learn how to place the tubes while Whumpee fights them the whole time.

Caretakers who don’t know how to react to skeletal whumpees. Do they insist they’re beautiful no matter what? Do they admit they find the concave stomach, the sharp ribs and the bloated knot of internal organs just above their hips grotesque?

S/O or FWB caretakers lying and saying they’re attracted to them no matter what but refusing intimacy ‘until they’ve recovered’ because they’re repulsed at the idea of sex with someone so jarringly fragile, so broken and unrecognizable as human.

Whumpees who were previously insecure about their weight not wanting to gain anything back because of that fear despite hating how they currently look as a starved wisp of a person.

Previously chubby whumpees who lose weight down to skeletons and have a bunch of loose skin.

Whumpers who take sick pleasure in cutting off, piercing with needles or even jewelry, pinching and stretching, or suspending whumpees by the loose skin.

Whumpers who want to starve whumpees unsatisfied by how slow they’re losing mass, wrapping chickenwire or another mesh tightly around whumpee and shaving whatever flesh pushes out against the metal off with a knife or razor.

Whumpees who are used as a meat source for a cannibal/inhuman whumper who cuts off bits at a time to eat while whumpee is still alive.

Whumpers who try to feed whumpee either mutilated pieces of other whumpees or even pieces that have been cut off of themselves.

Sorry for how heavy some of these are but they’ve been in my head for a while, had to scream into the void. Slightly fluffier shit:

Needing new wardrobes to fit them constantly as their weight seesaws in recovery. Caretaker trying to make it fun like a fashion show every time.

S/O!caretakers who insist that their love for whumpee hasn’t changed, that they don’t blame them for struggling to gain weight or losing it in the first place.

Caretakers trying their best to make as painless as possible, giving whumpee water to help them place the tube and stroking their hair the entire time whenever they have to change it. “It’s ok. Shhh, it’s in. Take a minute to breathe, there you go. It’s ok.”

Whumpees who have permanent damage from their experiences needing a tube for the rest of their life, either one in the nose or directly into what’s left of their stomach/intestines. Trying to make the best of it, picking out fun stickers to hold it in place and learning to manage it on their own.

Blankets and oversized sweaters for warmth, all the cuddles as caretaker praises them for what little solid food they’ve eaten that day.

Kisses along the boney edges of ribs, along the knuckles of cold, thin hands, on too sharp collarbones and down the bumps of the spine. Soft reassurances that they’ll soften with time, that the regained weight is a good thing.

Whumpees retiring after the torment they went through and gaining back more than they lost in a healthy layer of fat. Bonus points if they were alway on the cut defined muscular side before from being a living weapon to carewhumpers/sleezy superiors.

Intimacy for the first time afterwards, full of gentle kisses and unrushed tenderness. Maybe whumpee requests the lights off so their S/O doesn’t have to see them this way or with clothes on.

S/O telling them that they’re still themselves and that will never not be beautiful to them.

Little celebrations every time that number on the scale tips upwards.

(If you made it all the way to the end of this monster post congratulations. Have a sticker. Feel free to send me one of these with a character and I’ll see about writing it. Naruto is my current hyperfixation so those might get done quicker FYI.)

[steelandblood]

Whumpee has been in captivity and did not resive any food for over a week. Now that she has been rescued, does caretaker:

A. Know about refeeding syndrome and so has to strictly limit whumpee's food intake and denay her access to food, no matter how much she begs.

Or

B. Not know about refeeding syndrome so she allowes whumpee to eat as much as she wants, resulting in various symptoms that can include: Fatigue, Weakness, Confusion, Difficulty breathing, High blood pressure, Seizures, Irregular heartbeat, Edema, and even Heart failure or Coma.

[quietly-by-myself]

A Wicked Work of Art - Final Chapter

Masterlist

Thank you for the ride y'all.

CW: medical whump, trans whumpee, test subject whumpee, experiment whumpee, fantasy racism, dehumanization, fantasy whump, institutionalized slavery, angels and demons, transformation whump, referenced noncon, referenced suicide attempts

===

Nothing was easy about it. In that protected place that Elias, Elias the Protector, had created with the strength of his magic, Akakios found himself in another hospital bed. 

That hospital bed was his home for weeks. Medications, stabilization, blood tests, refeeding diets, but most of all, healing. It was the first time Akakios had been in a hospital bed and actually felt that he was healing.

Asimi, in their bedside vigil, spent day and night with Akakios. They knew the obvious - Akakios couldn’t be alone in a hospital, not after the Facility.

Stergios was a strange man, Akakios found, but he was well-meaning. Akakios found that Stergios also knew the boundaries that Akakios had - Stergios was a light mage, after all. He was one of Akakios’ oppressors, in some way. Maybe not directly, because he fought for Akakios’ rights, but Stergios would be a light mage until the day he died and Akakios couldn’t trust him as long as he was a light mage.

It was Elias who brought Akakios out of his own head the most.

He tried to convince Akakios of the obvious or, at least, what the people around him thought. Something in Akakios was too hurt, too far gone, to accept any good in himself yet. 

Soon those conversations turned to arguments. Akakios found himself pushing everyone away, even Asimi.

If all the torture had been to tame him, to make sure that he wouldn’t hurt anyone, why had it happened at all?

Had Akakios wanted to hurt anyone?

What had gotten him caught?

It was that night, defending the hens. A fox had come to attack them while Akakios was relaxing, laying back, watching the stars and talking to Asimi. Little did Akakios know that his father had come with a shotgun at the squawking. Akakios’ father had seen the magic, the glow, and the dead fox. He’d put two and two together.

Akakios was honest. His mom and dad told him that they loved him no matter what. That they accepted him. That they wouldn’t tell anyone.

What a horrible lie to tell.

The next day, he’d been arrested and brought to intake at the Facility.

The day he met Constantine. 

Akakios squeezed his eyes shut each time the image of his parents floated through his mind. They’d betrayed him.

Then there was Constantine.

“You’re defective,” he’d told Akakios that first meeting, when he was being valued for sale. “Your joints are too flexible, too weak. Your skin bruises so easily. You can’t even stand for long periods of time.”

Ehlers-Danlos Syndrome was what Constantine’s doctor had called it. Not that Akakios understood then, nor now. 

“You’ll be trained for sex. We’ll get some value out of you that way.”

It was that first night that Akakios had first attempted suicide.

And it was three nights later that he attempted next.

Gods, he’d lost track of the amount of times he’d attempted. Even as Constantine respected Akakios’ gender and helped him transition, Constantine was still a rapist. He was still a bad person. But he wasn’t a monster. Akakios was a monster. Constantine had taught him that.

Vasiliki didn’t have the guts to visit Akakios. Akakios didn't see the doctor the entire time he was on the ward. 

“Are you sure you want to see him?” Asimi had asked, a little bit of anxiety clear on their face. 

“I am. I have something I want to say to him. Alone.”

Behind him, the monitor was beeping.

The painkillers were doing a good job of numbing his anxiety. After all, his ankle had never healed. It was destroyed. Elias had told him that he’d need an amputation of it. 

“Maybe not the day before your amputation is all I’m saying.”

Akakios swallowed. With Asimi, he could speak his mind, even if he couldn’t with others. “It’s okay. I want to see him now. He’s- I want him to see me before that. I want him to know.”

“You don’t need his approval. You don’t need anything from him.”

“I know. I’ll be okay, Asimi.” Akakios gave a weak smile.

Asimi hissed a little and crossed their arms, but eventually sighed. “I- okay, my love. I’ll have Elias fetch him.”

Asimi left the room and for the first time in a long time, Akakios, Akakios the devil was truly alone. It was a strange feeling, no matter how many times it had happened. 

A knock at the door startled Akakios. When he looked up, a shaggy-haired, exhausted-looking Vasiliki stood before him. His glasses weren’t even straight.

The cardiac monitor beeped quietly in the silence.

“It’s been a while, hasn’t it, Akakios?”

Akakios swallowed. Looking at Vasiliki made him think of the Facility, of the lab, of the torture. That was the word for what had happened. Torture.

“Yeah.” Akakios lost all his moxie looking at Vasiliki.

Vasiliki quietly took a chair, looking at Akakios. Akakios swallowed, getting ready to talk, but Vasiliki beat him to it.

“Why do you want to see me, if you don’t mind me asking?”

Akakios took a breath. It was the question they were both asking. “I-I find that I can’t- Vasiliki, sir, I’m getting an amputation tomorrow. My ankle didn’t heal when I transformed, meaning it would’ve never healed.”

Vasiliki looked into Akakios’ golden eyes. “I’m sorry. I failed you.”

Opening his mouth to argue, Akakios was quietly cut off by Vasiliki. “I failed you in so many ways. You and so many others. I was part of a horrific system. I find myself sitting in my own self-loathing these days. I just- I want you to know, Akakios, that you don’t have to forgive me. I’ll never forgive myself.”

Akakios sat there, quiet. “I don’t forgive you, Vasiliki, sir.”

Vasiliki chuckled a little. “Coming from a devil, that’s a terrifying thing to hear.”

“But I don’t hate you either.”

That caught Vasiliki off-guard.

“I don’t hate you for what you did.” Akakios took a breath. “Vasiliki, sir, I’m a monster. A beast. I’m evil and will always be so.”

Vasiliki opened his mouth to argue, this time, but Akakios cut him off. “You failed me. You failed so many. You enabled so many awful things.” Akakios went quiet for a while. “Elias says I’ll never recover fully. The trauma was too severe. I’m a marred beast, but a monster nonetheless. I- Vasiliki, sir, I don’t forgive you. You’re part of the reason I’ve become like this.”

“Akakios, you aren’t a monster. You never were.”

“Maybe I wasn't before I was caught, but I am now.” Akakios looked off to the side, unable to meet Vasiliki’s gaze. “I find myself willing to do whatever I need to in order to save others like me. Killing others, if I have to. Nobody should have to go through what I did. I find myself a monster for believing that.”

Vasiliki was quiet, allowing Akakios to continue.

“Monsters hurt others. I will hurt people one day, Vasiliki, sir. I know I will. And maybe I’ll feel guilty, but it won’t change that fact. I’m joining the war. I want to fight. Elias says I’ll have a prosthetic if I want one, but that as a mountain lion, I can fight even without my ankle.”

“Akakios-”

“Vasiliki, sir, I want you to know something: I am the beast you feared, but I am a product of your creation. Not of my nature. I will forever hate myself for that, but I cannot change what I have become. Because I’ve realized: the torture I went through was to turn me into a monster that can end this war and restore balance. So, Vasiliki, sir, thank you. Thank you for making me a monster.”

Vasiliki opened his mouth to speak, but found himself speechless. For once, perhaps for the first time, Akakios felt he had won at something.

As the beast, not as Akakios, the once weak. 

“So, fuck you, Vasiliki. I have nothing else to say.”

Vasiliki looked at Akakios for a moment, then went to the door. “I respect your decision, Akakios, if you never want to see me again.”

“I don’t. Maybe one day, I will, but you have a long way to go before you can even think of asking for forgiveness.”

“I know.”

“Then do something worthy of it.”

“I will.”

With that, the door closed and Akakios was left in the silence of the cardiac monitor. 

He’d made his peace. He’d said what he needed to. He’d won. 

So why then, did he only feel the empty rage of the beast?

===

Tags: @i-can-even-burn-salad @whumpsday @pigeonwhumps @oddsconvert @pumpkin-spice-whump @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @writereleaserepeat @just-a-silly-little-whumper, @sparrowsage, @inscrutable-shadow, @whumpycries @demondamage @whumpshaped @whump-blog @whumpterful-beeeeee @sunshiline-writes

[whumpster-dumpster]

How long does someone has to be starved for refeeding syndrome to occur? And does starving mean no food at all? Or just way too less for a while?

It can take as few as five successive days of malnourishment for a person to be at risk of refeeding syndrome.

[whump-cravings]

fav whump tropes for a whumpee lost or abandoned in the forest? forests are one of my fav whump settings but i'm from the city and have never been in an actual forest before

ohohoho hyperfixation: activated

I think one of my favorite things is the first time the character secures something they need for the first time, such as...

...a source of clean water.

A human can survive without water for like 3 days.

Dehydration symptoms include body aches, headaches, dizziness, confusion.

Salt water will kill you and a lot of freshwater water will kill you slower

Stagnant water is the worst; moving water like rivers is better. Naturally filtered moving water (such as water seeping through layers of moss and dirt) is even better. All of these sources of water should still be boiled for 7 minutes if possible. You'd only drink straight from the source if like, you're dying and need water in you immediately. Rainfall/snow, plants, and condensation are the safest options for unboiled water.

The relief of wetting your throat for the first time in days is incredible

...something filling to eat.

when you're hungry almost nothing else matters besides getting some food in you asap (hierarchy of needs etc etc)

Hunger dulls your mind and body and makes you prone to heightened emotion & irritation, so being unable to find food immediately makes finding future food an uphill battle. You’ll be constantly fatigued. You’ll make incredibly stupid mistakes and beat yourself up for them.

A lot of plants will feed you, but a lot will kill you, and some are edible but need proper prep. Worse yet, many edible plants have poisonous look-alikes!

Carbohydrates will keep your brain functioning, but protein is necessary for repairing stressed or wounded tissue; protein will keep your body working. However, protein’s very difficult to get from plants alone, especially plants you're not cultivating

Vegans/vegetarians will most likely die if they fail to prioritize themselves over animals. Specialized diets are a privilege.

I’d be remiss if I failed to mention refeeding syndrome! After a period of starvation/low caloric intake, a sudden glut of food may cause someone to be very sick.

but yeah the first successful hunt/trap/fishing is great. There’s deep emotion in knowing you’ll survive another few days.

...shelter.

A good shelter will shield you from wind, keep you dry and warm, and insulate you from the ground.

Building shelter is hard labor and should be one of the first tasks completed upon finding yourself in a survival situation, right after finding water. No shelter means no sleep, and no sleep means death.

A whumpee will find out very quickly that sheltering at the bottom of a slope or near a body of water in a rainy area will flood.

Caves are nice natural shelters but may already be inhabited. Same with any large dens/burrows.

...fire, which brings warmth, the ability to cook/sterilize, and keeps many animals at bay.

...a tool, like they manage to make a bow, or a net, or something else that will ease their ability to fulfill their basic needs. (Conversely, the loss of a tool in a survival situation is devastating.)

Some other favorites include:

falling into a trap--the bear trap, the net, the pit, or the rope trap.

Wounds of any sort, either preexisting or newly acquired. Being wounded can quickly become a death sentence when you’re alone in the wild.

whumpee being found by someone while on the brink of death and being nursed back to health

they find they’ve been going in circles. If the sun is your only guide but today is cloudy or the canopy is too thick to see it, you are out of luck. 

coming out the other side unrecognizable / feeling barely human

finally being found after a long stretch of surviving on your own

[the-wandering-whumper]

TAT: there's this thing called refeeding syndrome which can occur after someone hasn't eaten for more than five days and can be deadly. (This submission mainly works where person A has medical experience bc most people probably don't know about it) anyway B is released after having been starved – maybe they don't know how long for, or maybe they do, but it was for a long time – and turn up on A's doorstep in the middle of the night. A, naturally, takes them inside and lays them down on the (1/?)

couch. B is begging for food now that they're somewhere safe, with A, and A, realising that B has been starved, can't give them food and just feels awful. A reassures B that they'll eat soon, just a bit longer. So either they take B to hospital, and B gets food (w/monitoring) or maybe B sneaks out and eats something without A noticing – and when A later finds them, dangerously ill, they are incredibly guilty for not looking after B properly. Or maybe it turns out B could've eaten but A (2/?)

denied them to be safe and now they feel super guilty for basically starving B for nothing (obviously it wasn't nothing but y'know). Whump for B /and/ A! Sorry if this is too rambling. (3/3)

~~~~~~

It’s not rambling, it’s fascinating!

[whumpish]

Summer of Whump

Prompt #2 Food Poisoning/Starvation

Whumpee has just been rescued on the brink of starvation. They’re saved! They can eat!…Is what they were thinking when they were rescued. But Caretaker has been keeping them from something called “refereeing syndrome” with smaller meals and higher calorie intake. But Whumpee is still so hungry, it couldn’t hurt if they had a large-ish midnight snack could it?

Spoiler alert, it could

[quietly-by-myself]

Shadow By My Fireplace - Chapter 2

Masterlist

CW: past slavery whump, conditioned whumpee, past intimate/creepy whumper, references to sepsis, sick whumpee, references to past whump, past noncon drugging, medical whump, silent whumpee, flashbacks, panic attacks, PTSD, past electrocution/shock collar, that one trope where whumpee refuses to rest and caretaker keeps having to scold them, past psychological abuse, refeeding syndrome, references to past force feeding, death wish

===

Upon seeing those eyes, Cyril was immediately met with a problem he hadn’t yet thought of: what exactly was he supposed to say to the man?

He didn’t have much time before the man began to whimper and attempt to stand. Of course, he was weak. Cyril immediately jumped to get the man back in bed and to try to prevent him from standing again.

“You’re very injured. There’s a chance you’ve gone septic. Please, just rest.”

When Cyril looked down at the man, he was huddling and covering his face, whimpering. It was almost as if he was saying “don’t hurt me.”

The fear on the man’s face gave him pause. He tried to remember what he said to all those terrified people back then, but failed to bring up even a semblance of what exactly he used to say. Could he really tell the man that everything was going to be fine? He doubted that the man would believe him.

In all honesty, he didn’t even know that he could promise the man that everything was going to be fine. All he could do was hope - hope that the man wasn’t really septic and hope that the injuries would heal well.

More than anything, Cyril wanted to know what happened to the man. He understood that the man was probably delirious, if not from the fever then from the pain. 

“Who did this to you?”

The man froze. Terror filled his eyes. His breathing began to grow deeper and faster. Soon enough, he was having a full-blown panic attack.

Cyril grabbed the man’s shoulders, but the man immediately, with his whole body, flinched away. Cyril quickly let go, trying to figure out what to do next.

He went to the kitchen, only to find the man trying to get up from his bed again. Cyril ran back over and put him back down in the bed.

“You need to stay lying down.” Cyril made sure to use a stern tone, but not too stern. He didn’t want to make the panic attack worse.

The man looked at him with that quickly familiar look of terror, but listened. Somehow, Cyril felt awful. The man looked so dejected and afraid as he went back to the kitchen in search of something that he could use to ground himself. Cyril decided on some ice and brought it back to the man.

Again, the man looked at him with the fear one would have for an angry god. The look made Cyril sick to his stomach. 

It finally occurred to Cyril that the man was probably kept as some sort of pet or plaything from the collar that had been around his neck. That thought made him feel even more ill. So easily was he reminded of why he’d left society behind and why he hated people so much.

“Here. Put this in your mouth.” He put the piece of ice in the man’s hand. “No tricks. Focus on the cold. I-” Cyril took a deep breath. “It was wrong to ask you such a personal question right off the bat. I can’t promise that you’ll be okay, but I’ll do everything in my power to make you feel better and get through this.”

A look of distrust flashed across the man’s face. Terror was quick to replace it. The man obediently took the ice and flinched a bit when it hit his mouth. He shrank away from Cyril. Cyril simply let it happen while the man calmed down.

“Can you tell me your name?”

The man froze.

Cyril took that as a negative. 

“It’s okay. I won’t be upset with you.”

He hated how easily those words came to him again. He hated the memories and instinct that seemed to be quickly taking over. 

Still, the man remained deathly quiet. Cyril might have mistaken a small twitch of his head as a shake to tell him no if he wasn’t paying so close attention to the man’s other body language. 

What exactly was he meant to do with someone who couldn’t speak?

“Could you write your name?”

Again, the terrified silence quickly filled the room. Frustration grew in Cyril. Normally, he had other people to help him.

The colors of the orange sunrise were enveloping the walls with their warmth. Cyril needed to hunt. He needed to tend to his garden. However, he also needed to help the man. That overwhelmed any need to take care of himself. Cyril certainly wasn’t going to look for help, either.

He forced himself to take a deep breath. “Well, I hope that eventually you will be able to. I’m sure you’re in a lot of pain right now. I’m sorry that I don’t have better painkillers. Just this salve. We’ll go slowly, okay?”

No response from the man. Cyril held back a sigh as he continued his work on the man’s legs.

---

The man finally left Sacha alone after agonizing, horrible hours of the man trying to talk to him while tending to his wounds. Sacha hadn’t half the mind to pay attention to those words like a running stream, something meant to calm him but only made him crave something he couldn’t have. 

Surely, the man had to be one of Master’s friends, living so far out. Surely, he knew who Sacha was. 

Something made Sacha doubt that. Whether it was the needle in his arm with the drip of water - sweet, precious water only given out on Master’s commands - or the way he applied that salve that took his pain away, Sacha wasn’t sure.

Oh, the salve. The salve worked mercifully quickly. Though the man apologized time and time again for it hurting, Sacha couldn’t help himself. He simply melted into the man’s touch. When he started crying, the man was concerned and confused, but he simply didn’t understand.

You’re simply made for this. 

You’re beautiful when you’re hurt.

Look at you, hurting so beautifully in silence. I couldn’t have wished for a better pet, could I?

Sacha heard that horrible chuckle in his ears with every tear he shed. He felt the way that Master had grabbed his hair, pulling it so painfully tight that he wanted to whimper, but couldn’t. Not in front of Master.

Those are lovely, silent tears my dear. Are you sure you don’t need more medicine?

No, the man who was applying the salve didn’t understand. Sacha was made for pain. He was made to serve. It was his job to be silent through it all. If he made a sound, he’d be given that horrible medicine again. He would hardly be able to move. 

So, Sacha forced himself to be numb. He applied ice to the pulsating, hot, angry wounds in his heart. He pinched the veins and arteries near his heart to distract from the pain. He forced himself to remember the pain of each lash of his last punishment. That would be his fate again if he didn’t obey.

He needed to be good for when Master would come again. The man would tell Master everything he’d done. He’d tell Master if he said anything.

I can’t have the medicine. Not again. I don’t want to take it again.

Snap. 

Snap.

Snap. Snap. Snap.

Bzzt. 

White-hot fear filled Sacha’s veins. His vision went out of focus, then came back sharper than ever. His breathing went shallow. His muscles tensed.

On shaky, weak legs, Sacha hurried up from the bed. The man wasn’t around to put him back down. Sacha took a few tentative steps, but yelped in pain at a horrible twinge in his side. He went crashing to the ground the next moment.

The man rushed into the room.

He looked down and saw the cruppled, pathetic mess on his floor. Sacha could almost feel the scorn in his eyes. He was so, so stupid. He’d made a noise. The man was going to drug him now. He was going to be punished.

“You need to stop getting up.”

The tone in the man’s voice made his heart drop. 

The man picked him up. It wasn’t a difficult feat. Food was a luxury and water was a gift. Sacha didn’t weigh what he used to.

“Stay in bed.”

Sacha wanted to shake his head. He didn’t deserve to continue lying in bed. He was an awful pet. He needed to be on the floor, where he belonged. 

“I’m serious. You need to rest.”

The man sighed. Sacha flinched a little.

He felt something cold above his head. Again, Sacha flinched away.

“Stay still. It’s just a cold cloth for your fever.”

Sacha listened eagerly. He wanted to avoid punishment for the noise he’d made. 

Why wasn’t the cloth going in his mouth, again?

He had a fever?

He almost always had a fever.

Surely, the man knew that. He knew it was normal for Sacha to have a fever.

“I’m making soup. No electrocution. No shock collar. I’m starting the element.”

How does he know?

“I’ll be back soon.”

Sacha didn’t realize he’d been holding his breath until the man left the room. Finally, he could breathe again. He didn’t want to make noise.

Soon enough, the man came back with a bowl in hand.

“I’m going to feed you, if that’s okay.” He looked down at the bowl. “This is just puree soup. It should go down easily. You can only have a little because you’re extremely thin. I don’t want the food to hurt you if you haven’t eaten in a while.”

Sacha wanted to nod. It made sense. He was only deserving of what the man decided he was deserving of. Anything more would make him look human.

“Okay, let’s do this. We can do this.”

Sacha wasn’t sure if the man was saying that to him or to himself. He wasn’t deserving of the answer.

The first spoonful had a texture that made Sacha want to grimace. However, he was too scared of being force fed the food to ever let his fear show. 

Spoonful by gentle spoonful, the man fed Sacha carefully. When he was done with the small bowl of soup, he praised Sacha.

“You did a good job.”

Somehow, the praise felt hollow. It wasn’t from Master, so it didn’t matter. Master was his world. Master was everything.

“I-” The man set the bowl aside. “I didn’t introduce myself. My name is Cyril Galanos. I live alone out here.” He looked away from Sacha and out the window. “Whoever kept you, I’m not related to them. I won’t do anything to harm you. I hate people who do shit like this. You… you don’t have to fear me, okay? I know that’s probably hard right now. But I promise I won’t hurt you. Just… try to believe it. Even for a little bit. It’ll help both of us.”

Sacha pretended that he could believe those words, but he knew them to be blatant lies. After all, this had to be a test. It had to be a trick set up by Master to test his loyalty. 

“I need to get some things done, but I’ll be back to check on you later. Please, rest. Don’t leave this bed. If you pull that needle out trying to get up, it’ll hurt a lot.”

Perfect. If he needed pain, he knew how to get it.

He pretended to understand, like he pretended to believe the man… Cyril. 

It was only a matter of time, after all. Master would find him again. Just like he’d promised. If he didn’t die before then, he’d be forced back into an unimaginable hell.

Somehow, death seemed more appealing. Cyril must have known that. Why else would he save him?

===

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[whumpster-dumpster]

Hey Im working on a WIP where my whumpee is starved and I heard about this thing called ‘refeeding syndrome’. Is that a real thing? and if it is what else do I need to know about this syndrome? Thanks!

Yes, it's a real thing. It's when food is reintroduced too quickly after someone has been starving. The sudden, drastic shifts that causes in the body's balance of fluids and electrolytes can be fatal. The lower their weight, the more at risk they are of developing it. Symptoms include:

Fatigue

Weakness

Confusion

Difficulty breathing

High blood pressure

Seizures

Irregular heartbeat

Edema

Heart failure

Coma

Doctors will usually give the patient vitamins and supplements through an IV to rebalance their electrolytes. They’ll need observation in the hospital until their levels stabilize; treatment will continue up to ten days and monitoring may continue afterward. Their diet needs to be reintroduced slowly and carefully [x]

[whumpster-dumpster]

Hi! I was wondering if you could help me out. I have a character who is captured for ten days and isn't given any food while he's there. He's given some water but it's only enough to keep him alive, not really to keep him fully hydrated. What would the recovery process look like? What foods would he eat to get him used to eating meals again? I know it would have to be in small amounts but I'm not sure what types of food work the best for this situation.

It depends how long the whumpee’s been off food for, but this is a general guideline:

- Start with clear fluids like juice in small sips throughout the day. Do this for a day or two.

- Then move on to clear broths like beef or chicken broth. Don’t have a whole bowl or mug at once. Stick with small amounts every hour or so.

- Stay with juice and broth for a few days to get your stomach is used to taking things in again and you don’t feel queasy after taking in the fluids.

- From there, it’s like recovering from the flu. Easily digested, bland foods in small amounts. A single scrambled egg, a piece of plain toast cut into strips. A piece of fruit that is flavorful and easy to swallow. Take it slow.

After a few days of this, the whumpee will start feeling hungry again. 

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #685

Anonymous asked:

Do you have any prompts for lab whump?

The whumpee watching as their samples are put into jars and stored in shelves along the wall.

Constantly being watched to see how their body reacts to the treatments.

Drug trials gone wrong: resulting in hives, severe itchiness, difficulty breathing etc.

Taking samples without pain relief - pulling teeth, scraping skin etc

No solid food - only the bare nutrients given through a feeding tube. (Leading to refeeding syndrome after rescue)

[whumpster-dumpster]

A whump who has not eaten in like a week due to forgetfulness how would the caretaker go about making sure the whump eats and would their be certain limitation to whump eating particular foods that they can or cannot digest?

Someone doesn’t eat for five consecutive days or more is at risk of Refeeding Syndrome. This is extremely dangerous and can be fatal. They’ll need to regain normal levels of electrolytes. Doctors can achieve this by replacing electrolytes, usually intravenously, as well as vitamins. They may need to slow the slow the feeding process so their body can adjust and they’ll need continual observation in a hospital. Doctors will monitor electrolyte levels and bodily functions with tests.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Whump Prompt #468

Submitted by anon: thanks!

More hungry whumpees: whumpee who is starved and wary of food, even from a trusted caretaker, because they're afraid of being drugged or poisoned until caretaker eats the food to show them it's safe. So hungry that even though they are being fed broths and gruel (to avoid refeeding syndrome), it's so delicious to them they're ecstatic to have it. But they're so unused to having food they struggle to finish it. And their hands are injured so they need to be fed by caretakers.

[promptsforyourwhumpfic]

Actually, about Whump Prompt #464, well, there's such thing as refeeding syndrome. Look it up :)

Thanks anon!  More about this HERE