This Is So Wonderful I'm Dead

this is so wonderful I'm dead

*Kicks down the door* YOU KNOW WHUMPY TROPES I LOVE SO MUCH BUT BARELY EVER SEE?

MAGIC FATIGUE/EXHAUSTION/OVERUSE.

Give me those sweet side effects of overusing magic:

Getting lightheaded and weak, struggling to stand let alone keep fighting

"Are you ok?" "Yeah I'm fine. *immediately faceplants because their legs can't support their weight anymore*"

F a i n t i n g

Physical injuries like burns, broken bones, etc

The risk of permanent damage either physically or mentally

Can I get uuuuhhhhh "loses a sense either temporarily or permanently depending on the severity of the overuse"?

Stopping their heart (cue the team scrambling to drag their dumbass friend back from death)

THERE'S SO MUCH YOU CAN DO AND I SO RARELY SEE IT.

Whumperless Whump Event Day 5

Wheezing - whumpee Morrigan - 978 words

CW: panic attacks

--

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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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

✮⋆˙

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

(pose ref from @/mellon_soup)

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

✮⋆˙

whumperless whump event day 19: the whump morning after! @whumperless-whump-event

tending to injuries / domestic hurt comfort / “let's check the bandages, okay?”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Simon

whumpee: Archie

guys. it's here. i can't explain why but i think this is my favorite simon and archie fic i've written and i literally wrote it the week after i made them so PLS ENJOY!!

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“Ow ow ow! Fuck!”

“Easy, easy! Jeez Archie, relax, would you? Are you trying to run a marathon or something?”

“I have to pee!”

Simon pinched the bridge of his nose and huffed.

“We’ll take it slow. The last thing we need is you popping a stitch because you're rushing it. That cut was a pain in the ass to suture.”

“Yeah yeah, whatever. Just help me? Please?”

Simon sighed.

Patrol nights were always rough on Archie. At least during the fights, he was always too hopped up on adrenaline to notice how injured he really was, and he usually conked out before Simon finished patching him up.

The mornings, however, were unrelenting. 

Every ache, bruise, slash and sprain from the night before now made itself very apparent, and Archie wasn’t able to ignore it.

As for this particular night, it had been a pretty rough fight between Archie and some lackies from a well-known drug operation he had been trying to dismantle. They were dosed on strength enhancers that rivaled Archie’s own abilities, and while he came out on top, it definitely wasn’t an easy fight.

Now, he was sporting a black eye, several broken ribs, a knife wound to the gut, a sprained ankle, a mild concussion, and a mosaic of bruises all over his body.

Rough night indeed.

“Alright, let’s get you up then,” Simon bent down and wrapped his arm under Archie’s. Archie braced as Simon started to guide him up, grunting sharply when they started to move from the couch.

“Go slower.”

“And here I thought you were about to piss yourself.”

“Just go!”

He grit his teeth against the all-consuming jolt of pain that overtook his body. God, the morning after really did suck.

“Alright alright, almost there..” Simon soothed, taking a bit more of his weight. “Just a little more..”

After a ridiculous amount of time, they were both finally standing. Archie was heavily favoring his left ankle as he began his hobble to the bathroom door with Simon’s help. Every step was agony.

“Alright, I’ll be fine from here,” He stated with a wince. He waved Simon away from the hallway, but Simon.. didn’t move.

“Nuh uh. No way. The last time I left you on your own, you fell and cracked your head on the bathtub. I’m waiting right here in the hall.”

“Ew, no! That’s weird! Go away!”

“It’s only weird because you’re making it weird. You forget I’m literally in school to do this for a living. This is strictly professional.”

“Whatever. Weirdo.”

“Strictly. Professional.”

Archie shot Simon a weak scowl as he shut the restroom door behind him.

Simon waited awkwardly for a few moments before he heard a zip, a flush, and the whoosh of the faucet. 

Archie merged from the bathroom, looking absolutely unsteady on his wobbling legs. He was just about to pitch forward when Simon closed the distance between them, slipping an arm around Archie’s waist. “Alright. Back to the couch we go.”

It took another eternity, but finally, Archie was lying down again, significantly paler than when he had started. 

“This sucks.” He whined, breathing deeply through his nose as the aftershocks of pain reverberated through his bones.

“Yeah, well, maybe you should think about that before you try to take on six guys that are three times your size,” Simon retorted, replacing the ice pack on Archie’s ribs. “That was the most stupid thing I’ve seen you do in a while, and I’ve seen you do some pretty stupid things.”

Archie would have crossed his arms indignantly if he could.

“You should have seen the other guys..” He muttered under his breath, rather childishly.

Still, despite his banter, the way sweat was beading on Archie’s brow and the way his face was void of all color was not lost on Simon.

“Hey, let’s check those bandages, okay? I think you might have popped a stitch after all.”

“I did not. I would know.”

“You absolutely wouldn’t. Lift your shirt.”

Archie rolled his eyes and slowly lifted the fabric to reveal… a bright red stain on the gauze.

He didn’t have to look at Simon to know the kind of smirk he was sporting.

Simon made quick work of replacing the suture and re-wrapping the wound. His hands worked deftly and with a practiced manner that Archie found himself feeling.. saddened by. He couldn’t quite explain it. It was more of the realization that Simon had been doing this for a while, enough that it was second nature, and Archie had done.. well, nearly nothing for him. He had yet to repay him for his undying generosity.

“Simon..” He began. His voice faltered the slightest bit. “Do you.. ever get tired of.. this.” He motioned vaguely to himself.

At the sudden change in conversation, a mixture of anger, hurt, and surprise flashed across Simon’s face. 

“What do you mean?”

“I just mean.. well..” Archie swallowed the lump in his throat and averted his gaze. “This can’t be fun for you. You come back from classes, from work, probably exhausted, and have to deal with me. I just.. I don’t want you to think you have to do it. I’ll be fine on my own if you don't want to. You’ve taught me enough that I--”

“Archie. Look at me.”

Archie drew his gaze up and met Simon’s unwavering eyes. 

“Listen to me. I don’t ever want you to think I am just dealing with you. I do this because I genuinely want to. Nobody is forcing me, I’m doing it because you deserve it. Archie, I know I don’t say it a lot, but you do so much to help others,” He said breathlessly, taking Archie hand and holding it tightly. “You deserve someone that will do the same for you.”

Suddenly, Archie found himself scrubbing viciously at traitorous tears that spilled over. Before he could say anything else, Simon pulled him into an embrace. It was the kind of hug that cradles every part of your soul, every part of your being.

He wept openly in Simon’s arms.

“You’re stuck with me, whether you like it or not,” He hummed, rubbing Archie’s back and pulling away slowly.

“So you’d better start learning how to dodge.”

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

🌸Describing Scents For Writers 🌸| List of Scents

Describing aromas can add a whole new layer to your storytelling, immersing your readers in the atmosphere of your scenes. Here's a categorized list of different words to help you describe scents in your writing.

🌿 Fresh & Clean Scents

Crisp

Clean

Pure

Refreshing

Invigorating

Bright

Zesty

Airy

Dewy

Herbal

Minty

Oceanic

Morning breeze

Green grass

Rain-kissed

🌼 Floral Scents

Fragrant

Sweet

Floral

Delicate

Perfumed

Lush

Blooming

Petaled

Jasmine

Rose-scented

Lavender

Hibiscus

Gardenia

Lilac

Wildflower

🍏 Fruity Scents

Juicy

Tangy

Sweet

Citrusy

Tropical

Ripe

Pungent

Tart

Berry-like

Melon-scented

Apple-blossom

Peachy

Grape-like

Banana-esque

Citrus burst

🍂 Earthy & Woody Scents

Musky

Earthy

Woody

Grounded

Rich

Smoky

Resinous

Pine-scented

Oak-like

Cedarwood

Amber

Mossy

Soil-rich

Sandalwood

Forest floor

☕ Spicy & Warm Scents

Spiced

Warm

Cozy

Inviting

Cinnamon-like

Clove-scented

Nutmeg

Ginger

Cardamom

Coffee-infused

Chocolatey

Vanilla-sweet

Toasted

Roasted

Hearth-like

🏭 Industrial & Chemical Scents

Metallic

Oily

Chemical

Synthetic

Acrid

Pungent

Foul

Musty

Smoky

Rubber-like

Diesel-scented

Gasoline

Paint-thinner

Industrial

Sharp

🍃 Natural & Herbal Scents

Herbal

Aromatic

Earthy

Leafy

Grass-like

Sage-scented

Basil-like

Thyme-infused

Rosemary

Chamomile

Green tea

Wild mint

Eucalyptus

Cinnamon-bark

Clary sage

🎉 Unique & Uncommon Scents

Antique

Nostalgic

Ethereal

Enigmatic

Exotic

Haunted

Mysterious

Eerie

Poignant

Dreamlike

Surreal

Enveloping

Mesmerizing

Captivating

Transcendent

I hope this list can help you with your writing. 🌷✨

Feel free to share your favorite scent descriptions in the replies below! What scents do you love to incorporate into your stories?

Happy Writing! - Rin T.