I Love Them :)

I love them :)

whumperless whump event day 11: a minor annoyance @whumperless-whump-event

stuffy nose / hate to be sick / “i'm fine, i can work.”

see this post for character information!

caretaker: Archie

whumpee: Simon

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It was when Simon turned away from suturing to sneeze for the fourth time in just five minutes, that Archie figured he should say something.

“Simon, are you.. okay?” Archie asked, wincing as the needle entered his skin once again.

“Yes.”

There was a beat of awkward silence.

Archie squirmed.

“I just.. I mean.. you look a little flushed, is all. Are you sure?” He repeated.

Simon sniffled, breath hitching as he turned away to sneeze again, but this time it was a fit that left him doubled over, face buried in his elbow. He wordlessly got up and grabbed a fistful of tissues, viciously scrubbing at his face until he pulled away with a miserable guh.

“..Some kid sneezed on me last week.” He finally admitted, making his way back over to Archie and plunking down next to him, lifting his needle and thread. “I’ll live.”

His usually deadpan demeanor was now obstructed by the ridiculous nasal tone his voice took on, and Archie stifled a giggle.

“I think you should be in bed anyways.”

Simon shook his head and finished up the last stitch on Archie’s arm. “Can’t. I work tomorrow. We’re understaffed, they needed volunteers.

“Simon, respectfully, you are a walking germ right now. If you did, go into work, I guarantee they’d send you home within a few seconds of looking at you.” 

As if to prove Archie’s point, Simon pitched forward with another pathetic sneeze, barely having enough time to shove his face into the crook of his elbow.

Archie cooed sympathetically, reaching up a hand to rub his back.

“You must really be feeling sick, huh?” He murmured, handing him a bundle of tissues.

Simon accepted the offer gratefully, swiping at his nose once again and tossing the soiled tissues into the wastebasket. When he looked back up at Archie, his eyes were watery and irritated and his nose was now rubbed raw. The sight made Archie melt, and he got up, drawing Simon to his chest.

Simon didn’t complain. Instead, he let out a soft, settled sigh and leaned into the embrace. He had long since decided he wasn't going into work.

“M’gonna get snot on you.”

“That’s fine. How many times have I gotten blood all over you?”

“True.”

“Now, lets get you to bed, okay? I’ll make some tea.”

“With honey?”

“Yes. With honey.”

Simon hummed contentedly, letting his eyes slip closed in his friend’s arms. Yeah, work could wait another day or two.

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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!!!

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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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.”

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hey so I'm gonna send a lil prompt

You don't have to answer it of course but it's been rolling around in my head for a while and I doubt I'LL write it since I don't know how you feel about fanfics

so I figured

why not put it in your askbox just for the sake of it

The idea is that at some point, Archie goes to Simon's apartment for either a minor injury (really just an excuse to see him) or something that's kind of serious but can be delt with pretty easily. Basically anything that isn't fatal and wouldn't be fatal even without intervention. When he gets there he sees that Simon is clearly MUCH worse off than him for whatever reason and now they're BOTH fussing over each OTHER and fighting over who gets taken care of by the other

Definitely a whumpee-turned-caretaker/caretaker-turned-whumpee situation. I don't know I just think it'd be fun but if you're busy or something that's totally cool I just wanted to show it to you

HI ANON!!!!! like i said in a previous post, i will literally give you my firstborn child if you ever make a fanfic for my boys. i dont think you understand how thrilled i would be. you are ALWAYS welcome to write about my guys!!

anyways, heres a little prompt fill!!! it ended up being more about the fluff than it did about the fighting over who should be fussed over so i hope thats okay!! simon being cuddly when hes feverish is one of my favorite traits i gave him. i hope you enjoy too!!

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In hindsight, the cut on his leg really wasn’t too bad.

Archie was about ninety-nine percent sure he would have been able to suture it himself. He saw it done more times than he could count, and the wound itself was neat and shallow, though bleeding profusely. Wouldn’t have taken him more than twenty minutes.

But he really missed Simon.

Simon had been swamped with exams and lab practicals and volunteer hours for the last week and a half. The poor guy had 2 hours a day to himself if he was lucky. Archie made himself scarce to not add more to his plate, of course, but it had been three days.

He figured a little pit stop couldn’t hurt. Even though it was well past midnight, Archie knew Simon had finished his last final in the afternoon because he texted him that he was going to knock out, and then went radio silent.

It had been seven hours since then. Simon was definitely awake by now.

So that’s how Archie ended up silently slipping through Simon’s kitchen window, a common practice for him, angling his leg just right so as to not drip blood all over his floor. 

All the lights were off. Weird.

He shut the window gently behind him and padded into the living room, squinting as his eyes started adjusting to the dark.

Suddenly, a lamp flicked on and Archie nearly died of a heart attack then and there.

He blinked at the sudden brightness and was greeted by.. Simon?

His friend was slowly sitting up from the couch, head still lowered as he viciously scrubbed the sleep from his eyes. There was a mess of blankets and pillows surrounding him as he propped himself up on his forearms. 

Had he been sleeping?

“Archie?” His voice was rough. He blinked blearily, hair mussed from sleep. “What are you doing here?”

Simon’s gaze lowered to the bright red stain on Archie’s leg and he jolted a little bit. 

“Oh. I see. Come sit down, I’ll--” He was cut off by a soft yawn-- “take a look at it.”

Simon went to grab the suturing kit that was already on the coffee table from the last time Archie stopped by, but his hand slipped and he nearly toppled over. Archie rushed to catch him.

Something was not right.

Simon was never one to be this groggy. He was the kind of person that could go from dead asleep to awake and alert in a matter of seconds. He hardly ever had a “wake-up” period, and he was certainly never this out of it.

When Archie helped Simon back to sitting, he frowned at the unnatural heat he felt beneath his palms.

“Simon? Are you okay?” He cupped his cheek and stifled a hiss at the burning, fevered skin.

“You’re burning up!" Archie exclaimed.

He should have known something was up when Simon didn't text him after his nap. He suddenly felt a bit guilty. "I'm sorry for waking you, I should have called first. You should be sleeping.”

Simon shook his head, but it only succeeded in making him dizzier. “Mmh. I’m fine. You’re the one bleeding. Just sit down, would you?”

“No way. This--” Archie motioned to his leg-- “can wait. You’re sick. You’re exhausted. You need rest. I'll get you some medicine and some tea, okay?"

“Just sit down. You're dripping blood. I can still suture. I’m fine. I can practically do it with my eyes closed.” He looked up at Archie again in a hazy way that made him not want to test that theory.

Still, Archie knew Simon well enough to know that he wouldn’t back down, especially not while mildly delirious from fever. He had to improvise.

He made a show of sighing and sitting down as if he resigned to Simon’s orders, but then, when his guard was down, he reached over and snatched the suturing kit from Simon’s trembling hands.

“Hey!” He shouted, but it came out as more of a whine. He was too disoriented to do anything about it anyways.

“Shush. How about I let you sit here with me while I do suture myself, y’know, so you can supervise, as long as you promise to let me get you to bed when I’m done.”

Simon peered up at Archie with glassy, fever-bright eyes and finally relented.

“Fine.”

Archie smiled. Admittedly, he was very pleased with his small victory. He sat back on the couch, beside Simon, and propped up his leg.

He pulled out the pre-threaded needle and hemostats and got to work.

The process was actually relatively easy. Archie practically memorized how it looked when Simon did it, so it was no trouble at all. He fell into the rhythm of threading, looping, anf knotting.

He only faltered the smallest bit when he felt the weight of Simon chin settle on his shoulder. In the corner of his eye, he could see Simon was flagging. He was more exhausted than he was letting on. He was blinking slowly and lazily, gradually nuzzling further and further into the side of Archie’s neck.

By the time Archie finished the last knot, Simon was nearly a deadweight on him. Archie's heart clenched.

“Alright sleeping beauty. Let’s get you to bed, m’kay?” He murmured, replacing the items in the suturing kit and carefully getting up to crouch in front of Simon in an offer of a piggy back ride.

Simon was not one to decline.

It took Archie a bit longer because of the throbbing pain in his leg, but he eventually got Simon tucked into his bed with a damp washcloth on his chest and forehead. 

Just as Archie was leaving to go find the ibuprofen, he heard the smallest, saddest sound come from the bundle of blankets.

“You’re leaving..?”

Archie thought he might die right there. 

He all but dashed back to Simon’s bedside and cupped his face. “No. No, of course not. Not when you’re feeling this sick. I just wanted to get you some medicine. I’ll be right back.”

Simon just averted his hazy eyes and huffed a small whimper. “Stay? Please?”

Archie bit his lip in contemplation, but his mind was made up before the question even made its way out of Simon’s mouth. 

He kicked off his shoes and crawled under the covers next to Simon, who scooted over to make room, and pulled him into an all-consuming embrace. 

Simon melted easily into it, letting his head fall on Archie’s chest. Even in his foggy state of mind, he made sure to be careful of Archie’s injured leg as he wrapped himself around him. 

Finally, he felt like he could breathe again after such a hellish week.

Archie rubbed up and down his spine, reveling in how the tension in Simon’s muscles melted away with each pass.

Medicine would have to wait. For now, this was far more effective.

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🌸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.