Whumperless Whump Event Day 5

Whumperless Whump Event Day 5

Wheezing - whumpee Morrigan - 978 words

CW: panic attacks

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There is something in their lungs.

Morrigan is not programmed to panic. Unless it's on command, or necessary for the sake of appearance, they are not supposed to freak out. A level head and calm tones are perfect for dangerous situations. It is part of what keeps them away from the company–that they function as intended. 

However, they are panicking. 

It feels like… spiderwebs. Like something has built a nest in their artificial chest and all of the fans and cooling systems have become cluttered with the dust of its new resident. It feels like they are choking.

Which is why they're now standing in front of Jace's apartment, with the key he gave to them not even a week prior.

They knock. An error flashes onto their vision. It's a warning, low oxygen content. Soon enough, their cooling system are going to start complaining too. Overheating is a problem.

This whole thing is a problem, and the feeling of discomfort in their chest is making their hands shake as they push the key into the lock.

Morrigan has no god but the ones that put them together. But they pray to whatever is out there to let Jace be at home.

“Woah, hey, terminator, what's–Morrigan? What's wrong?” Jace's face drops the moment he sees them. Concern is a rare expression for him, when he's speaking to them in particular.

They must be genuinely panicking now. “I can't breathe.”

“What? Come here, sit down, is it a technical thing? Why did you come to me?”

They are guided to the bed and the next breath they take is a horribly mechanical wheezing thing. But they run yet another diagnosis and their lungs are undamaged and unencumbered and they don't understand, they don't–

“Hey–Morrigan, you're psyching yourself out, you gotta relax.”

“I'm not supposed to–” they try to say, and their voice is glitched and wrong and they can feel Jace flinching away from him. “Sorry, I don't–know what's wrong.”

“You're alright. I think you're freaking out, is there something else? Did you check for, I dunno, a virus or some shit? Or–”

“No. Not a virus. Just.”

There’s nothing left to do. There are no errors. No abnormalities within their lungs, no differences in their cooling systems, but they cannot breathe and the only person there to help is someone who hates them more than anything else in the world.

Something grabs their hands.

At first they flinch, but the grip is strong and unmoving and grounding. Jace’s. He’s there. They are not alone.

“I don’t know how you breathe but I’ll give it my best shot, in for four beats, I’ll count. Come on. Hey. Breathe in for four.”

They try to follow. It catches, and wheezes out all in one breath, in one horrid mechanical jerk.

“Again. Let’s try again. One, two, three, four, good, you’re doing great, now hold it for seven counts. It’s okay. It’s alright.”

They don’t make it to seven, it rushes out of their lungs, but something in their head is clearing, somehow, and Jace doesn’t seem afraid anymore. Just concerned.

Concerned for them. That’s… new.

“Let’s go again. Good. Hold for seven counts, then breathe out for eight. You’re doing fantastic.”

The cycle continues. Jace’s hands stay tight around theirs, his eyes level and calm, his voice soothing something inflamed deep in their chest. He… cares. Cares enough. Why does he care? Jace has no stake in this, could have just let them die, let them suffocate at his doorstep like a broken machine.

“--why?” they finally say, once his calm demeanor has shifted to something more like pride.

“Wasn’t so hard, was it?” he grins, all freckles and dimples and sunshine. “Why what? Why couldn’t you breathe? I think it was a panic attack, I get ‘em sometimes. It’s fine. Counting helps.”

“Why are you helping me?” 

It stumbles out like the wheezing of their breath, disjointed and hardly human. Jace doesn’t look away. He seems… the crook of his eyebrows, downturning of his shoulders, slight flush on his cheeks, he seems ashamed. Guilty. “I wasn’t gonna let you suffer, Morrigan. I’m not that bad.”

“You hate me,” they say, simply. 

He huffs. “No, I don’t. I’m just… human. Messy. Complicated. I don’t like change, you’re a new thing, it’s complex. I’m sorry I made you think that.”

They try to see past the lie. To put together the pieces of the past, the glares, the imbalance, how Morrigan would push down their own posture to give him the head of the scene, to give him all of the power in play, but for all of their training, they cannot deny the truth. Jace Vela Journey is telling them the truth.

“I’m sorry I scare you,” Morrigan manages. “I don’t–I tried not to, but it’s not easy when people know what I am.”

“It’s fine. You just came into my house hyperventilating. Seems pretty human to me.”

Morrigan can’t help the eyebrow raise. That’s the first time anyone has referred to them as human-like outside of the purpose they’re built for, the tool they have to be. “If that’s human, I am sorry for every single one of you.”

Jace just laughs. “So are we, Morri. That’s pretty universal. You should take a break though, it’s not like you’re fine now. Just relax.”

“What did you call me?” 

“Uh.” Jace winces. “Morri? Like Morrigan shortened? If that’s not cool, I get it, I’ll go back to giving you robot nicknames–”

“It’s fine,” Morrigan is quick to reassure. “I don’t mind. It’s new, but not unwelcome.”

“Cool. Call me JJ, then?” 

It feels like a truce. A contract. When their alliance breaks a little bit from tenuousness and into something stronger. “Alright, JJ. Thank you.”

He grins, flashes a thumbs up. “Don’t mention it. Take your shoes off, stay a while.”

--

a teensy insight into their rocky relationship starting to fix itself. also origin of the nicknames!!!

Yay for whumpee Simon!! I love whumpee Simon

whumperless whump event day 8: put your head on my shoulder! @whumperless-whump-event

migraine / light & sound sensitivity / “i can close the curtains…”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Archie

whumpee: Simon

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“Simon! I’m here and I have the takeout!” Archie chirped, letting himself into his friend’s apartment. It felt odd not crashing through the window for once.

As he passed the threshold, he was caught a bit off guard by the.. silence.

Simon was not a loud person, not at all, but he always at least had some kind of music playing or TV show on, and he even sometimes hummed his way through tasks around his home.

No, this eery quiet was wrong. It felt off.

“Simon? Did you hear me? I’m here and I have your food! The sooner you get your butt out here, the sooner we get to have our Star Wars marathon!” He repeated, putting a little volume behind his voice.

Then, he heard it. An unmistakeable groan coming from Simon’s bedroom.

“Simon..?”

He set down the bags of takeout on Simon’s small table in the kitchen and padded over to the bedroom door. He tapped a knuckle against it.

“Simon?? I know you’re in thereeee,” Archie teased.

Nothing. No response. Not even a groan like before.

“Dude, if you don’t say something, I’m coming in."

A beat.

Then 2.

“Alright, don’t say I didn’t warn you,” Archie murmured, before pushing open the door.

Suddenly, everything made a little bit more sense.

Illuminated by the afternoon light streaming through Simon’s windows, he opened the door to the sight of his friend curled up in bed, every pillow and blanket pulled around his head. 

He let out a pathetic grunt.

“Could you talk any louder?” Simon muttered, pulling the bedding tighter.

Archie breathed a soft laugh as everything clicked. When he spoke again, he lowered his voice to a whisper.

“How long have you have your migraine so far?” He asked, ignoring Simon’s hostile tone and sitting beside him on the bed.

“…A few hours now..” He mewled, throwing an arm over his eyes.

“That’ll do it,” Archie huffed. “Why aren’t your curtains closed? Can’t imagine the light is helping much..”

“Couldn’t.. I couldn’t get up to close them..” Simon breathed, shuddering at the thought of leaving his cocoon of pillows.

Archie let out another breathy laugh. “And you get angry at me for not calling when I need help..” He murmured, getting up and taking care to shut every curtain tightly. He could see Simon visibly deflate as the piercing light finally let up.

“… I’m sorry..” He said, voice muffled by the pillows.

“Hm?”

Simon lifted his head slightly.

“I’m sorry.. for snapping earlier.. and for ruining the movie marathon..” He whispered.

Archie felt his heart clench in a way that he would have to decipher another time. No, for now, he just sat beside his friend and placed a warm hand on his back.

“Don’t worry. This just means we’ll take a rain check, and the next marathon will be twice as long.”

Simon let out an annoyed groan, but there was no heat behind it. In truth, he couldn’t be more excited.

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I'M DEAD. I'M DEAD THEY'RE SO PERFECT

BOO bug post jumpscare! i was rly missing my silly boys so i present sleepy simchie,,, they eep and cuddle!!! (click for better quality)

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these guys hold such a special place in my heart i need to shake them around in a jar. but not now. right now they are Resting. hope you all enjoy!

(pose ref from pintrest and i sincerely could not find the artist but if anyone recognizes the pose and knows the og artist PLEASE tell me i want to credit because i referenced their pose a LOT. like a lot.)

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Wait that sounds awesome

Quick, whump community!

Reblog and tell me what is your favorite whump story! It has to be from another person! Spread the love around!!!

THEY'RE SO SWEET I'M DEAD

HI GUYS

consider this my formal apology for my previous drawing. they deserved some fluff.

i love these sillies im going to Eat them

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text: "sorry for almost dying..." / "shut up."

(pose ref from @/mellon_soup)

tagging @lemlem21 because i finally drew them happy. Rare Occurrence.

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HELLO!!! IT IS HERE!!! SCARAB CREW INTRO FIC!!!

i'm sorry it took so long guys i've been in a bit of a funk these last few days BUT i really wanted to post this!! i have much more planned for them but i am trying to pace myself because i've been struggling a little bit!

this also counts for early whumperless whump event day 23: well, that doesn't taste right @whumperless-whump-event (allergic reaction / anaphylaxis)

word count: 2507

see this post for info on the scarabs crew!

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In hindsight, Hari probably should have told the team his allergies to start.

There just wasn’t a convenient time for him to do it. It felt weird.

He already felt their judging eyes on him because he was human. Humans weren’t necessarily looked down upon, but it was quite the common consensus that they had more biological flaws than most other races.

This was, of course, made worse by Hari’s precarious condition. 

Introducing himself as the human missing a leg with a blood circulation disorder, an inflammatory lung disease, and food allergies was not something Hari imagined would get him much in the way of respect.

So, he stayed quiet.

After all the introductions and mission briefings came and went, everyone retreated to their respective rooms to settle in. A message over the intercom told Hari that Nyla, the pilot, was going to start making dinner.

He supposed now could be a good time to mention it. He remembered how to get to the kitchen, and Nyla should be in there cooking already, but Hari had just taken off his prosthesis. He didn’t feel like going through the trouble.

Besides, what were the chances that, out of all the things in the galaxy, Nyla made something Hari couldn’t eat.

An hour came and went before Nyla’s chipper voice came over the intercom once again.

“Food’s ready, everyone! Come on down to the kitchen!”

Hari perked up. Now that he thought of it, he was hungry. He hadn’t eaten anything more than protein bars and yogurt cups since the initial launch. An actual meal sounded wonderful.

He grabbed his crutches and began making his way to the kitchen. 

As he walked through the halls of The Scarab, he couldn’t help but feel a bit astonished. Just a few days ago, he was on his home planet, Earth. Then, he was shipped off to Asto’is. Now, here he was, floating in space with a group of strangers towards countless unexplored territories and potentially dangerous star systems.

What a story he was going to have to tell.

He arrived at the kitchen and quickly saw he was the last to do so.

Captain Nieven Alaric, the Asto’isian, was sitting at the head of the table, typing away on his detpad. A cigarette was held loosely in his free hand, and he brought it up to his lips with a deep inhale. His brow was furrowed, like he was trying to figure something out. 

Zel, the Huelxcan, was sitting towards the middle of the table, but her entire body was tensed up. She looked terribly awkward, like she’d rather be anywhere but there. Her gaze remained trained at a spot on the table, but upon Hari’s entry, she lifted her head. Hari met her eyes on accident and flashed a small smile, and he could have sworn she snarled at him.

Vinny, the Z’edin, was sitting opposite to Zel, but they looked significantly less uncomfortable. On the contrary, their knees were pulled up to their chest with their own detpad balancing on top. A peek over their shoulder told Hari that they were reading.. a scientific article? On biochemistry? For fun? That was perhaps scarier than the Huelxcan staring daggers at him from across the table.

And finally, indicated by the soft humming from the kitchen, Hari caught a glimpse of Nyla plating the final dish with her back turned to him.

Hari hadn’t seen many Haryen in his time. The race preferred not to make too much contact with the other PAGE territories, so seeing one out in the open felt odd.

Still, Hari didn’t need to know much about the race to know their signature trait—large crimson wings on their back with a span almost longer than their full height. Hari also didn’t need to know much about the race to know that this particular Haryen’s wings were not paradigmatic of her people’s.

Nyla’s wings were small and curled tight against her body. The muscles in them looked atrophied and shriveled, and even the way they moved with her body seemed off.

Nyla didn’t offer much of an explanation. She simply stated that she was born differently and left it at that. She didn’t owe anyone an explanation anyway; Hari figured. Still, it was not something someone saw every day.

Hari finally took a seat beside Vinny and rested his crutches against the edge of the metal table. Vinny’s gaze flitted to him before coming back to their detpad.

Hari risked another glance at their screen, and saw that not only were they finished with the first article, but they had moved on to another longer one. Hari had to ask.

“What’cha reading about?”

Vinny’s ears flicked at his voice. “Botany.”

“Botany?”

“Mhm. The first planet on the course is a forest planet, so I wanted to brush up.”

“I see—”

“Do you know much about botany? You’re the medic, after all. Figured you’ve at least taken some life science classes, but I don’t know how much time the curriculum would have spent on botany specifically.”

“Well, I was in highschool when—”

“I guess if it was a general biology class, the content would be broader, so you probably spent a little bit on each subsection. Still, I think botany is underappreciated. There’s so much to learn about a planet based on what kind of flora thrives in it.”

“I agree—”

“Plus, it can tell you so much about culture! Your planet, for example, has such a diverse ecosystem with so many different biomes. The different ways your people use the plants in each area is fascinating!”

“Thank you?”

“Not to mention—”

“Dinner is ready!” Nyla chirped, padding into the room with plates precariously balanced on her arms. Hari silently sighed in relief.

Nieven set down his detpad immediately and stood up to take two of the plates from Nyla.

“Thank you very much for making dinner, Nylath... Nylathrania.”

The syllables sounded clumsy on the Captain’s lips and a slight flush creeped up his cheeks at his fumbling.

“Oh please, just call me Nyla. Nylathrania is a hard one, even back on Harye.”

Nieven cleared his throat. “Very well. Thank you, Nyla.”

“It’s my pleasure! What better way to welcome you all onto my ship than good food?” She smiled and set a plate in front of each person at the table before taking her own seat next to Zel.

Hari smiled right back at her and, he figured he could try probing about the ingredients. Subtly, of course. “Yes, thank you, Nyla. This looks good! What is it?”

“Oh! I wanted to start with something pretty universally liked. It’s noodles with a darzel nut sauce, wozoik leaves, and some poultry from Earth! It’s pretty simple. I didn’t want to try anything too wild on the first night.”

Vinny, finally, lifted their head from their detpad and faced Nyla. “You took the meat out of mine, right?”

“Mhm!”

Vinny’s tail swayed slightly and a slight smile overtook their face. “Thank you, Nyla.”

Hari suddenly felt very stupid. If the kid could let Nyla know about their dietary preferences, why couldn’t Hari? 

Still, it was fine. Nothing she said was on his allergy list. He’d just let her know after this meal and everything would be fine.

Nyla picked up her fork. “Well, dig in everyone!”

And with that, they did.

Zel sniffed the food experimentally and swirled a forkful of noodles onto the prongs of the utensil before lifting it to her mouth. The usual scowl on her face lessened greatly and she turned to Nyla.

“You made this?” She said softly.

“...I did. Why? Is something wrong with it?” Nyla almost looked sheepish.

Zel said nothing. She simply turned her face back down to her plate and began scarfing down the noodles.

Vinny was following suit, tail swaying freely as they forked mouthful after mouthful into their mouth.

Nieven was a bit more polite. He ate slowly, and in small bites, but the enjoyment of the food was written all over his face in the way his eyes shone.

Alright, now, Hari needed to try it.

He scooped some of the noodles onto his fork, took a bite and—wow. If this was the kind of food he’d be eating for the next few years, he had no complaints.

The nutty flavor of the sauce was light and fresh, enhanced further by the aromatic greens. The chicken was juicy and flavorful, and the noodles were cooked to perfection. Hari’s eyes nearly rolled back into his head. 

Nyla swallowed a mouthful of food and tapped her finger idly on the table. “So... How is everyone feeling about the trip so far?”

Vinny perked their head up. “So far it’s been interesting. Your ship is really cool. I can’t believe you fly it yourself.”

“I do! She’s my pride and joy.” She turned to Hari. “You’re somewhat of an aerospace engineer, right? What kind of ships have you worked on?”

Hari startled at his name and glanced up. 

“Me? I’ve worked on a few. I worked mostly on airplanes, though.”

“Oh? So a bit different, then?”

Hari nodded and opened his mouth to respond, but found that his tongue didn’t move the way he intended it to. It felt tingly, like it was swollen in his mouth. He furrowed his brows.

“Sorry. I just— My throat feels weird.” He swallowed convulsively. 

Nyla tilted her head and leaned forward to get a better look at him. Zel followed suit, sharing a glance with Nieven.

“Are you okay?” Nyla asked.

“I’m fine... I’m...” Hari swallowed again as an abrupt wave of nausea had him clamping his mouth shut.

Nieven suddenly turned his gaze to meet Hari. “Hari? Are you sure? You’re quite... flushed.”

Hari nodded and scratched at the side of his neck. Stars, when did it get so itchy?

And then it occurred to him. The way he was feeling—the way it felt like his throat was swelling and the way his skin felt too hot for his body—stars, he was allergic to the damn food.

Of all the foods in the galaxy! This delicious meal was one his body decided was a threat! He would have groaned if he could.

Instead, he let out a vaguely choked whine and clawed at his throat, desperately pulling at his collar to get some air. Hives were starting to break out along his arms and shoulders rapidly, and the heat was searing.

Everyone was staring at him now. Even Vinny, who had set their detpad on the table, was in a hurry to get a proper look at Hari. 

“Hari?” Vinny questioned. 

They stood and leaned over, scrutinizing his face. They looked like they were racking their brain for something. Hari truly hoped they were as smart as they came across, because he wasn’t sure he had the faculties to explain what he needed. With their knowledge on Earth and biology, they were probably Hari’s best bet.

They suddenly jolted with thought. “Anaphylaxis! Allergic reaction! That’s what's going on, isn’t it? Your symptoms match!”

Bingo. Hari nodded frantically, pulling in a wheezing breath. Shit, it really was getting difficult to breathe. He needed to do something—and fast.

“Allergic?! Why didn’t you say something earlier!” Nyla shrieked, practically leaping over the table to reach Hari. “What do we do?! You’re the medic!”

Hari wanted to tell her to relax and that it would probably be fine once he got his epi-pen, but he could quite literally feel his airways shrinking and he figured that might not be true for long.

Vinny tapped away on their detpad before whipping their head back up. “We have to give you epinephrine, don’t we? Where the hell are we going to get that?!”

Hari vaguely gestured to the bedrooms, hoping someone would get the hint. He had a small bright red first-aid kit in his luggage, left out in the open. Never had he ever been so grateful for his disorganized unpacking.

“On it,” Nieven muttered, racing toward the hall. Hari tugged at his collar once again, wheezing desperately. It felt like his head was going to explode now. He was sure he was quite the sorry sight with how red he felt his face getting. Not a very good first impression.

Finally, the captain came sprinting back with the little red pouch. He all but threw it onto the table and ripped it open, before realizing he had no idea what he was even looking for.

“Epi..pen..” Hari managed to rasp out, doubling over when another awful wave of nausea overtook him. 

Vinny watched Nieven frantically search for a few more moments before grumbling and lunging over to snatch the pouch from him. They procured the item immediately and began to read over it.

“It’s a needle?”

Hari nodded, wondering why that mattered. He didn’t care if someone had to cut his other damn leg off to get the epinephrine in him—he just wanted to breathe.

Vinny uncapped the needle and hesitantly crouched beside Hari. They were moving at far too leisurely a pace. Hari shot a weak glare.

He would have done it himself, if he could. It’s just that his hands were numb. He could barely lift his arm, let alone have the dexterity to administer it properly. Maybe he should start having his epi-pen with him for every meal. Stars, his head was spinning.

“I can’t do it!” Vinny cried, suddenly pulling away.

“For fuck’s sake—” Zel plucked the pen from their hands, skimmed the directions, and plunged the needle directly into Hari’s right leg with no hesitation.

Hari had never been so grateful in his life.

In just a few moments, Hari felt his breath starting to come easier. He slumped back against his chair and gulped down sweet, sweet oxygen.

No one said anything for a beat. And then, Nyla smacked the back of Hari’s head.

“You idiot! If you’re allergic to something you need to tell me! What was your plan if we didn’t get the epi-pen in time?! I would have been responsible for manslaughter!”

Hari blinked. “I didn’t know I’d be allergic to it.”

Vinny stepped in and crossed their arms. “But you have existing allergies, yes? I could have done some research on how similar the food was to your allergens. Darzel nuts, for example, are remarkably chemically similar to peanuts.”

Oh. That explains it, then. Hari felt a blush creep up on his cheeks. He said nothing.

Nyla let out a soft hmph and pointed a finger at Hari. “After we clean up here and I make you something else to eat, you’re going to sit down with me and make a list of your allergies. All of them. This won’t happen again.”

Hari could tell she meant to be vaguely reassuring, but with the way she said it, it sounded like a threat. He gulped and nodded.

Vinny let out a soft laugh that doubled as a sigh of relief. “Welcome to the expedition, I suppose.”

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