hey! i’m will. long-time whumper, back from the dead.
i mainly write fics putting my favourite characters through hell and back, but sometimes i make fun little gifs too. i’m all about the injury and illness, less about the torture, but as long as there’s plenty of hurt, a sprinkle of comfort, and a dash of angst for good measure, i’m there.
it’s been a while, i know, so i’d love to find some new mutuals, and requests/prompts are always welcome, even if i’m a little slow to fulfil them sometimes. see you around!
merlin getting hurt by a visiting noble/asshole knight and being flinchy/afraid!!
The first time it happened, Merlin had chalked it down to accident.
The second time it happened, he’d thought perhaps coincidence.
The third time it happened, Gaius pleaded with him to tell Arthur what was going on, but Merlin was stubborn and proud, two unhelpful traits.
“Arthur would be horrified if he knew what they’d done to you,” Gaius grumbled, patching up his young charge.
“They’ll be gone within two weeks,” Merlin said, then hissed as Gaius pressed something against the cut across his eyebrow that stung.
“Merlin, you might not last that long,” Gaius exclaimed, and while Merlin rolled his eyes at the old man’s dramatics, he did have a moment of apprehension at what else could happen.
So far he’d had two bloody noses, one black eye, what was almost a broken rib, and this delightful new scar across his left eyebrow.
Arthur had believed Merlin’s excuse of clumsiness almost too readily for his liking, but he supposed that with so many guests at the castle currently, he had other things to think about. Certainly more important things than the wellbeing of his manservant.
“Promise me you won’t go out with them tomorrow?” Gaius asked sternly.
“Promise.”
Less than twelve hours later, and Merlin found himself back out in the training field, armed only with a feeble shield, as one of the visiting nobles and some of his knights enjoyed another round of beating the living daylights out of Merlin under the guise of sparring practice.
“Please, please give me a break,” Merlin gasped from his curled up position on the ground, trying to ignore the taste of blood in his mouth.
“You hear that boys?” grinned the nobleman. “Our servant wants a break from blocking. Be a gentleman and relieve him of his shield.”
The knight he addressed quickly wrenched Merlin’s shield from his weak hands, ignoring his cries and pleas.
Glancing around, the nobleman checked that no one was watching them, then leered down at the smaller man. “As we were.”
When Merlin regained consciousness, several hours had passed. They’d dragged his body to the weapons room, leaving him slumped by a bench, out of sight.
With a grunt of pain, Merlin assessed how he felt, and determined he could at least stagger to Gaius before collapsing again. Summoning all of his strength, he used the bench to pull himself up, and then clutching his aching stomach, began to drag himself up the stairs.
“You promised me,” Gaius scolded him, as Merlin crashed through the door, but there was little anger in his voice, only worry.
“No choice,” Merlin managed to say, but Gaius shushed him immediately, helping him lie flat on the table so he could take a proper look.
“Let’s see what the damage is today.”
The damage was two broken ribs, a black and blue chest and stomach, a dislocated shoulder which made Merlin howl when Gaius popped it back into place, and a right eye so puffy he could hardly see.
“To bed with you,” Gaius ordered, helping him gingerly get down.
“But Arthur-“
“I’ll do my best,” Gaius interrupted, chivvying him into his room. “You, sleep.”
Knowing protest was futile, Merlin turned and collapsed on to his bed, unconscious again before his head had even hit the pillow.
Morning rolled around all too soon, and though the swelling on his face had gone down significantly, Merlin still looked and felt like death warmed up.
Wearing extra layers to try and disguise the marks, Merlin finally deemed himself acceptable to face his master, and made his slow way down to Arthur’s chambers.
“Merlin,” Arthur greeted him, in the tone he often used that suggested his servant had arrived a split second before he was about to bellow his name for the entire kingdom to hear. “I- You look dreadful.”
“Good morning to you too, Your Majesty,” Merlin said dryly.
“I think that was all you said to me yesterday too,” tutted Arthur. “Most servants wouldn’t get half the chances I give you.”
Merlin nodded, having the sense to look a little sheepish. He did know how lucky he was. Most of the time.
“What can I do for you, sire?” Merlin asked.
“You can put these on,” Arthur said cheerily, tossing the well worn training armour over. “We’re having some sparring practice before I face our guests in friendly combat tonight.”
Merlin’s heart sunk.
“Wouldn’t one of the knights be better suited to help you practise?” Merlin suggested desperately.
“Yes, but unfortunately they’re all tied up entertaining, so I’m stuck with you. Come on.”
By the time they got out on to the field, Merlin was already feeling a little nauseous. He shrank away from every blow Arthur tried to land, sometimes not moving fast enough and wincing as he was struck.
Eventually Arthur threw his sword down with a huff.
“Merlin,” he growled. “I know your preferred fighting style is usually ‘useless’, but this is bad even for you. I need to practise.”
“Sorry, sorry,” Merlin breathed out, his chest heaving.
“Look sharp,” Arthur snapped, and then lunged forward, plunging his sword straight at Merlin’s chest.
With a yelp, Merlin fell backwards, crashing to the floor and writhing in agony, unable to catch his breath.
“Merlin,” Arthur called anxiously, wrenching his helmet off and casting it aside with his weapons. “Merlin, what is it?”
The king dropped to his knees next to Merlin’s shaking body, but every time he tried to reach over to calm him down or remove his armour, Merlin flinched violently.
“I didn’t mean to be this forceful,” said Arthur, gnawing at his lip.
“No,” choked Merlin, trying to assure Arthur he wasn’t to blame. “Not you.”
With that he moaned again, and Arthur decided enough was enough. Hauling him up, he draped one of Merlin’s arms around his shoulders, and then practically carrying the rest of his weight, hurried to Gaius.
Merlin whimpered quietly the entire way, and by the time they reached the physician, he was drenched in sweat and barely lucid.
“Gaius,” Arthur cried out, sweeping the table clear and lowering Merlin on to it as gently as possible. “Gaius!”
“Your Majesty, what- oh heavens,” Gaius sighed, racing out from behind a stack of books. “I warned him, I warned him.”
“Warned him of what?” Arthur snapped. “What is it, what’s going on?”
“No,” Merlin managed to choke out from the table, but Gaius chose to ignore him as he prepared various aids for Merlin.
“He’s badly injured, Your Majesty,” Gaius said, and Merlin groaned, but it was weak.
Ripping his layers off until Merlin lay there bare-chested, Gaius instantly got to work with assessing the new damage, as Arthur paled at the sight.
“Did I do that?” he asked faintly.
“No,” Merlin piped up again, refusing to let Arthur blame himself for even a moment.
“You, quiet,” Gaius instructed. “One of your guests has been borrowing Merlin for sparring practice too. Eagerness would be putting it politely.”
Arthur’s face hardened as he took in Merlin’s mottled chest, his laboured breathing, the way his eyes fluttered as they tried to stay open.
“I want a name,” he said quietly, deadly.
By this point, Merlin was too out of it to protest any further, so Gaius gave his king what he’d asked for.
“I’m going to fix this,” Arthur said, and his tone suggested he was exerting a lot of energy to keep his voice steady. “I want regular updates on his condition while I’m gone, and if anything changes at all, send someone for me.”
Gaius nodded, then watched as Arthur placed an uncharacteristically gentle hand on Merlin’s fevered forehead.
“I’m sorry, Merlin,” the king whispered, then swept out of the room, leaving Gaius to try and mend the broken heap before him.
almost five years ago (lol), I wrote this silly little response to a Merlin prompt, which gained a little bit of traction and some very sweet feedback. after adding to it initially and then promising even more, I promptly... completely abandoned the entire thing.
my intention was to rewrite and improve the original pieces now that I’d accidentally stumbled into something resembling a plot, but as we all know, ‘on hiatus for a rewrite’ is the equivalent of a death sentence for a fic. so, things have been quiet, but I have, in fact, over the last few YEARS, still been working on this from time to time.
and now, suddenly, I’m here. polishing up the final version, somehow. it’s been so long I’m not even sure if many of the original readers are still around, or still follow me, but for the sake of closure, and because I have always loved this fic and want to let it see the light of day again, I am very excited to say that at some point soon, the rewritten, completed version of ‘Look Sharp’ will be landing on AO3 (and partly on tumblr, but the new version is around the 15k word mark (WHAT) so for readability’s sake, AO3 is probably the best place for it to live)
this is by no means a big, important or well-known fic, and even just this post is probably super over-dramatic (but if you can’t be over the top on your own blog, where can you?) but there’s still something satisfying about finishing a fic left abandoned for so long. so if anyone’s still here who enjoyed it first time around, I really hope you like the new version just as much, and to anyone it might reach this time, I hope it’s a decent read if you enjoy the classic ‘Merlin suffers at the hands of other nobles’ trope ♥
and once I get this posted, I’m hoping I can re-visit all those other unfinished pieces living on my laptop... so, stay tuned!
As they exit the courtroom, the walls of the building feel like they're starting to close in on Mike.
He can hear Harvey calling his name from behind, sounding increasingly irritated, but Mike couldn’t respond even if he wanted to right now. Between the ringing in his ears, the tunnelling of his vision, and a tightness in his chest he can't seem to ease, Mike can't focus on anything besides getting out of this goddamn building and getting back to the office, or their apartment, or literally anywhere else that isn't here.
Here, where he just fumbled what should have been an open and shut court case because the opposition caught him off guard with a piece of information he should have seen, should have known already, should have researched. And anyone else might have been annoyed with themselves, might have rolled their eyes internally, but their world wouldn't be ending.
Mike isn't just anyone else though. He's Mike fucking Ross, and he doesn't fuck up in the courtroom.
"Mike!" Harvey all but barks at him, but it's still not enough to slow him down - the doors are yards away, and beyond them lies the outdoors, open space, somewhere for Mike to hide and try and calm himself down.
He pushes the door open with more force than necessary, practically jogging at this point in his desperation to be free, and then he stumbles round the side of the building and collapses against the wall, practically bent double. With a hand on his racing heart, Mike desperately tries to suck in a breath, but he can't, he physically cannot fill his lungs with enough air, and he's freaking out.
What the fuck is happening to him?
"Mike," he hears Harvey say, sounding far away and in his ear at the same time. "You need to slow down, I need you to slow your breathing. Can you hear me?"
Mike nods, strained, teeth gritted against a feeling that is and isn’t pain at the same time.
"Okay, breathe with me. In for four- Mike, I need you to breathe in when I do, okay? In for four... that's it... and then out again. And in... and out..."
"Harvey," Mike gasps, trying to take a shuddering, heaving breath in, and failing miserably, "I can't breathe. I can't breathe."
"You can, you can breathe. Just gotta do it with me. In and out, come on, follow me."
They stand there for an interminable amount of time, thankfully shielded from most people by the building's architecture, and slowly, second by second, Mike's lungs start to work again. His whole world narrows to Harvey's voice, his low and steady instructions to breathe in and back out again, until eventually he manages a few shallow breaths on his own, and the worst of it seems over.
The world comes back into focus again, and with burning cheeks, Mike turns away from Harvey and the stares he knows don't exist but can feel anyway. With his palm flat against the stone, Mike braces himself against the courthouse, staring at the ground and squeezing his eyes shut. Embarrassment and fear from what had just happened, and shame and frustration for what had happened earlier, all come flooding back to him, and he’s overwhelmed for a moment.
"Mike?" Harvey asks gently, a soft voice he usually reserves for the two of them in the privacy of their own place.
Sensing he needed more, Harvey places an uncharacteristic hand at the small of Mike's back, hardly an overt romantic gesture, but far more intimate than they usually are out and about, especially when at work.
"I couldn't breathe," Mike says in a shaky, slightly rasping voice, trying to clear his throat when he hears it. "What the fuck just happened?"
"Pretty sure it was a panic attack, sweetheart," Harvey says, nudging Mike ever so slightly so he turns away from the wall to face his partner instead. Harvey looks into Mike's still-scared eyes and gives him a small, slightly amused, slightly pitying smile. "Welcome to the club."
Mike takes another long breath in, still uneven, but his strongest so far. "This is a bullshit club."
fandom: mcu
pairing: tony & peter
words: 2091
warnings: headaches/migraines
--
The city rain was merciless that night, unrelenting and painfully cold, the kind of rain that soaked a person in seconds and left them frozen to the bone. The raindrops were loud too, hammering on rooftops, on the sidewalk, on the cars sat in hours-long jams, their honking and revving combining with the rain and the general sounds of the city to create an overwhelming evening in NYC.
Tony was losing his mind. Peter was losing his bearings.
It had been a stupid argument that drove Peter to storm out of the Avengers campus, an uncharacteristic move that in Tony's opinion, only added to the point he was making. Peter was sick, nothing major, just rundown and overworked from trying to juggle his final year of high school and the pressures of keeping a watchful eye over his town each night. When he'd shown up to work with Tony that night, it had been pretty damn obvious he should have been in bed, not hunched over a workshop counter playing with something that could wait.
Well, obvious to Tony at least, which must have been obvious indeed, given Tony's own penchant for overlooking his health in favour of doing something more interesting than recovering.
Peter wasn't Tony though. Peter was Peter, and Peter was a kid, despite his increased protests at that statement since he'd turned eighteen, and Tony had a responsibility as his mentor to make sure he wasn't about to collapse on the spot. That, and he also just cared about the idiot.
So when Peter had walked through the door looking a couple degrees shy of alive, Tony had laughed at him, and told him to turn straight back around and go home; Happy might even still have the car running. The laughter, it turned out, was the mistake. because Peter, tired and unwell, was not in the mood for jokes, and missed the light humour in Tony's words.
Instead, he heard 'go home' and the less kind 'you look like shit', and had decided after a week of working himself to the bone, that that wasn't going to cut it. It was the first time Peter had ever argued back with Tony, the first time he'd ever raised his voice, and that alone was enough to stun Tony into a rare moment of silence, which Peter reacted to with a scoff, a roll of his eyes, and a dramatic storming out.
And eighteen his ass, Tony thought the terrible teen years were meant to be behind them.
He’d sat there for a moment, considering what the hell had just happened, and then, just in case Peter wasn't finished having his little tantrum, followed the kid out of the workshop to ensure he wasn't wreaking havoc across the rest of the building. There was no sign of Peter though, only a very confused looking Happy walking towards him.
"What the hell just happened? I only dropped him off ten minutes ago, now he's walking back out the front doors? What, my driving not good enough now?"
"Your driving's fine, Hap, as careful and slow as usual. We just had an argument."
"An argument? With him? The kid?"
Tony nodded. "Yeah. Y'know, it turns out he can really yell when he wants to. The acoustics in my new workshop... very impressive."
"So you sent him home?"
“I advised him to go home. Like I advised him to find you for a lift. Does he even realise how far it is from here to the city?"
"Well he looked pretty determined when I passed him. He’ll be outside by now."
Tony looked out of the nearest window at the miserable weather. "Great. Come on, let's go find him."
"You're coming with us?" Happy asked, making his way back to the car he'd left only minutes ago.
"i've spent too many years with Pepper, I know better than to leave an argument unresolved."
Happy looked sadly out of the window again as they walked. “I just had the car valeted."
Tony had been expecting to catch up with Peter somewhere along the main drive into the campus, probably looking damp, and almost certainly looking slightly ridiculous. He hadn't banked on Peter being nowhere to be seen. With a couple of choice words after realising Peter must have started running, Tony instructed Happy to carry on driving back to May's apartment. They were bound to run into him at some point along the way; kid could run, but he wasn't that fast.
Except, as it turned out, Peter was pretty fast apparently. Either that, or he'd taken a different route back into the city, and since he wasn't wearing the suit - Tony had checked - they couldn't track him. Undeterred in that moment, Tony had suggested to Happy that they carry on driving, occasionally taking a slightly different route, and just cruise round the city until they spotted him.
That had been an hour ago, and Tony had severely underestimated how busy the city would be, and how hard it was to find a single person among crowds of people through windows smudged with raindrops.
"You want to turn back and get the suit?" Happy shouted to him from the front seat, trying to make himself heard against the rain while Tony had the window down and his head poking out of it.
"Not yet," Tony yelled back; wandering the city as Iron Man brought with it an entirely different set of complications.
"Okay, but we haven't moved in fifteen minutes now, boss."
Tony ran a hand over his face, a mixture of stress, annoyance, but mostly concern. "Okay, i'm going to look for him on foot."
"You sure?" Happy asked, glancing up at the dark grey clouds above that suggested the rain was going nowhere for the minute.
"I gotta find him, Hap," Tony said by way of answer, already halfway out the door. "Keep your phone on, and call me if May rings again."
Happy gave him a nod and then Tony was off, slamming the door behind him and immediately drenched from the sheets of rain coming down.
"Where the hell are you, Peter?" he muttered, shoving his hands in his pockets and turning his collar up against the weather, which did absolutely nothing, before pressing on to start roaming the city's streets, checking all of Peter's usual hangouts.
Peter, meanwhile, had regretted his rash decision to storm off approximately five minutes after doing so, by which time he was already halfway home, having channelled much of his anger into a sprint that would put athletes to shame. Deciding to press on, he was starting to realise that Tony had very much been correct in his assessment of Peter's physical state, and he'd perhaps even underestimated just how lousy Peter felt.
The week had been a tough one, just the latest in a fairly long run of tough weeks, and Peter had been so sure that a night spent working with Tony on something non-school, non-superhero-related was just what he needed. The rejection, which his rational brain knew wasn't a rejection, but his sick, overly-sensitive self took as such, stung more than it should have, and although his outburst was foolish, he couldn't help but feel it wasn't entirely unjustified.
Thoughts of their argument were long gone by now though, after an hour spent stumbling around in the rain. Peter had been certain he was on the right track home, but after a while, nothing seemed as familiar as before, the bright lights around him not the ones he recognised. His phone had died, which was less than ideal, so he'd done his best to keep walking until he found somewhere he knew, and could right himself, but that moment never came.
Instead the rain just kept falling, and he grew colder and colder, and the slight headache he'd had before upgraded itself to a fully-fledged migraine. The lights around him were suddenly too much, blurring together and making it difficult to see straight, and his heightened hearing was proving overwhelming against the shouts of the crowd, the constant traffic, and the ever-present rain splashing on the streets.
The first crack of lighting across the sky had him flinching, a stabbing pain behind his eyes that made everything go black for a second, and the thunder not far behind had him covering his ears in pain. He thought he might have yelled out, but the sound was lost amongst the evening traffic, and it was busy enough that no-one noticed a stray kid staggering to one side, completely disoriented, eyes screwed shut against the world and his own head.
He carried on, hands clamped to his ears, eyes barely open and unable to see where he was going anywhere. He'd given up on even making it home by now, he was just aiming for somewhere he could sit down and wait out the rain and this headache. May was going to be furious, and Tony probably more so, but those were problems for later. For now he'd just try and stay upright, he thought to himself, two seconds before walking straight into someone.
"Sorry," he mumbled, not even looking up to apologise, but the hands that had caught him steadied him, and stayed attached to his upper arms.
Distantly, Peter realised the person he'd run into was talking to him, and he frowned, not sure how to convey that he wasn't able to manage any sort of conversation, and hoping he'd not done something stupid. The world was spinning, despite someone holding him fast in position, and Peter suddenly wasn't feeling very confident in his ability to stay upright.
Tony surveyed Peter, took in the way he was listing to one side, the sickly white pallor of his skin, and the clear pain etched in the frowning lines of his face, and panicked. It was clear Peter had no idea it was Tony who was holding him - which threw up all sorts of secondary concerns about stranger danger - and Tony wasn't about to terrify him by manhandling him away without identifying himself.
Realising he had no choice, and wincing before he’d even done it, Tony gently, carefully peeled one of Peter’s hands away from his ear, just long enough for him to whisper something someone with super-hearing would still be able to pick out amongst the chaos.
“It’s me, kid. I’ve got you.”
It took a moment for the words to register, but Peter slowly opened one eye just slightly, clearly recognised the vague, blurry outline of a very wet, very worried Tony Stark, and visibly sagged with relief. Tony, alert enough to realise Peter was spent, quickly lunged to grab him properly, and then with nothing else for it, lifted Peter up into his arms, the boy immediately turning his head into Tony’s chest to block out even more of the light, a hand weakly holding on to Tony’s coat.
Whether Peter could hear him or not, Tony kept up his reassuring murmurings as they ducked into a side street and waited another few minutes for Happy to tear round the corner, careering up on to the sidewalk in his hurry to get to them.
“He okay?” Happy yelled as he raced out of the car to open the door for Tony to slide into, still holding Peter.
“I think so,” Tony shouted back, trying to clamber into the car as carefully as possible without jostling Peter around too much.
There was visible relief in Peter’s face when the door slammed shut and the noise grew considerably quieter, just the still calm of the back of Tony’s car, warm from the heaters Happy had left running.
“M’sorry, Mr Stark,” Peter mumbled, still pressed into Tony’s side.
“Forget about it,” Tony said, stroking his hair a little, and finally allowing himself to lean back into the chair as it sunk in that Peter was here, safe, and not collapsed in a heap somewhere in the city like he’d been fearing for the last hour or so. “You’re safe now, kiddo.”
Peter managed a small smile at that, and then relaxed a little, and Tony suspected he was about to pass out. And he was okay with that. When he awoke, he’d be back at campus, in a warm bed, with strict orders to rest, and no doubt Tony, May and Happy fussing over him for the next week. He was allowed to sleep for now.
Currently losing my mind over the mercelot “dizzy” ficlet you wrote in response to my ask, it’s so amazing 🥺🥺🥺 if you ever get another chance to write some caring mercelot, I for one would love to read it!!
aaaah, i’m so glad you liked it! thank you so much for leaving me a prompt, it was so fun to get back to whumping merlin heheh, and i’m glad you didn’t mind that it was a little bit fluffy!
i’d actually never written mercelot before, just because i usually lean towards merthur or mergwaine, so it was a good challenge to try something new! and since you liked it, and a couple people left some very sweet comments in the tags, i’ll try and re-visit them in the future!
*KICKS DOOR OPEN* YOU!!! YOU'RE BACK!!! I'VE MISSED YOU!!! HOW ARE YOU?? HOW'S LIFE BEEN? HOW YOU DOIN?
THIS IS SO SWEET, I’M 🥺🥺🥺
i was so nervous about opening this tumblr again because i’ve just been gone for so long, and i was kind of assuming people would move on or maybe not be interested anymore, but this message just has my heart so so full. like i’m so happy that someone else is happy i’m back?! thank you 💛
and i’m okay thank you! life is actually super good rn, yknow, besides the whole worldwide pandemic thing, and now that things feel calmer, i really want to try and get back into the groove of writing and hurtingloving my fave characters ☺️
i hope you (and anyone else who may be reading this!) are doing okay too! and staying safe, and taking care of yourself!
Oh yay so awesome that you’re getting back into writing! Would Merlin/lancelot and the word “dizzy” be alright?
thank you, anon! this was very sweet and made me smile, i’m so happy to be back! please enjoy a 100800 word merlin/lancelot drabble set in 4x02, which probably ended up being more fluff than whump, but features dizzy!merlin all the same. <3
drop a character and/or ship + one word into my askbox, and i’ll write you a 100 word whump drabble!
~~~
For all his bravado upon waking up - not that Lancelot minds a proper breakfast before continuing the fight - Merlin is still not up to full strength as they make their way back towards Arthur and the knights.
They ride quickly, horses thundering through the forest. The knights are down one of their best men, something Merlin feels deeply guilty about, and they’re fighting magic without the aid of a sorcerer. Time is of the essence, and they’re both acutely aware of it.
Lancelot watches him closely though. If they had been able, he would have forced Merlin to spend another day at the riverbed, letting his body recover under the protection of the Vilia. By all rights, Merlin should be dead, and it is nothing short of a miracle that he is here at all, not least twisting in his saddle to grin at Lancelot as they soar over a fallen tree trunk.
Here he is though, and Lancelot cannot help but return his smile. Merlin had been so pale the night previous, ice cold to the touch. Lancelot’s heart had frozen with him, stricken at the idea of losing the man so soon after reuniting with him again. He blinks, clearing his head of the thoughts. Merlin is here, and alive, and Lancelot’s heart remains safe in his hands.
After a full half day’s riding, Lancelot orders Merlin to stop.
Though he looks annoyed as his horse trots back a few steps, Merlin does as he is told. He was not in the habit of disrespecting the knights anyway, but he would certainly never argue with Lancelot, saviour, protector and ally that he was.
“We don’t have time to rest,” Merlin tries to protest, though Lancelot all but ignores him.
“We will neither of us be much use to the king if we arrive dead on our feet,” Lancelot says, dismounting and tethering his horse nearby. “We will stay only an hour or so, not least to give the horses a rest too.”
Merlin, as fond of arguing as he is, cannot find fault with his logic, so hops off too.
He had expected the ground to feel steady beneath his feet, but instead the world spins a little, and he throws his arms out, trying to right himself.
“Merlin?” he hears Lancelot call, sounding distant despite being only a few feet away.
The forest around him blurs, a mix of greens and browns, and the bird song echoes over and over. He closes his eyes, shakes his head, tries to clear his vision, but it makes things worse. Merlin only knows Lancelot is approaching him when the flash of red before him grows larger.
Lancelot approaches him cautiously, uncertain of what is happening. Merlin has grown pale, nowhere close to last night’s troubles, but pale all the same, and his legs look like they can barely hold him up. He thinks that maybe Merlin is just a little dazed; they’d been riding all morning without stopping, and Merlin had been at death’s door only half a day ago.
Still, just in case there is magic involved, and one could never be certain with Merlin, Lancelot’s movements are slow, and he calls his name with a soft voice.
He reaches out to touch Merlin’s elbow, and this seems to ground him; Merlin’s eyes open and focus in on him, and Lancelot offers him a warm smile for his troubles. Merlin’s own face splits into a grin in return, and once again Lancelot heaves a sigh of relief.
This boy will be the death of him, and he doesn’t even mind.
“Sorry, the forest started spinning,” Merlin explains, reaching out to grab Lancelot’s forearm for added stability.
“No apology necessary,” Lancelot says, carefully leading him over to a nearby tree and pulling him into a seated position beside him, leaning against the firm oak and hoping their pause will help Merlin recover.
Without warning, and Lancelot thinks perhaps without meaning, Merlin’s head drops on to his shoulder. Merlin doesn’t move it instantly, and Lancelot doesn’t do or say anything, and so Merlin leaves it there. Watching the world sideways is fine as long as it is still, and Lancelot’s shoulder is a nice place to be.
They sit there in silence for longer than either of them intended, really. They know they are needed by the knights, and they will resume their fast pace shortly, but it is nice here in the forest together, the midday sun beating down on them, the only sounds the cracking of twigs and the rustling of the trees.
Merlin relishes the sun on his skin, feeling it replenish him down to his very soul, and Lancelot relishes the feel of Merlin next to him, alive, well, breathing.
Merlin’s hand stays on Lancelot’s arm, and at some point, Lancelot finds his hand resting on top of Merlin’s. They each say nothing, but they smile.
Today was the day I posted my first ever fanfic one year ago, I can’t believe how far I’ve come since then! My first fanfic was an extremely cringy Peter Parker fic which I won’t link here lmao but your free to find it in my archive if you want to read it.
You guys have been amazing, and I love every single one of you <3. Writing has always been a passion of mine, and discovering this community of wonderful, supportive people has helped me grow as a writer and as a person. The whump community is full of amazing, kind authors, and I want you to know that no matter if you post once a day or once a month you all are contributing valuable work to the community and fandoms you write for.
I want to shoutout @friendlylocalwhumper, who was one of the first whump blogs I followed and was extremely helpful with questions I had getting started. They’re one of the big reasons I got the courage to start posting here, and I can’t thank you enough for it.
Some other people who have inspired me that I want to give a shoutout to: @spelldaggered, @wildfaewhump @justme–emily @goldenavenger02 @ashintheairlikesnow @toosicktoocare @deluxewhump @shameless-whumper
These are just some of the many wonderful creators I love, if I were to tag them all it would take me an eternity. Just know I love you all, and you have no idea how much of an impact you make.
Unfortunately I don’t have anything special written for the anniversary, but I do have something in the works for a follower milestone coming up, so be on the lookout for that :)
happy one year anniversary!!! i know i’ve been ia more often than not on this account, but you have always been so lovely, giving me endless support and checking in on me from time to time. it means so much, and you’re a treasure amongst the whump community!!!
@whumptober2019 Day 2: Explosion
Fandom: MCU
Pairing: Tony & Peter
Words: 999
Warnings: Explosion, injury
Synopsis: Tony should have known that Peter would never just stay put while there were people out there who needed help.
Huge thanks to my fave @rux-ian for the help in figuring out what to write for this one!
–
As a backpack flew in through the open window and skidded across the floor to a halt at his feet, Tony rolled his eyes. He’d thought the novelty of the web shooting thing might wear off eventually, but no, the kid was still going strong months later.
On cue, the glass doors to the balcony crashed open, and a whirlwind in the form of Peter Parker appeared in his living room. His arrival was nothing new; Peter dropped by almost every day after school, except for the times May forced him to socialise with his peers.
Today he was even more chaotic than usual though, stumbling into the room with one leg in his Spider-Man suit and one leg out, racing over to where his backpack had landed to scrabble around in it for something.
Tony sighed and held his arms out in an effort to slow Peter down, wincing a little as the movement tugged on his ribs.
“Easy spider,” Tony said gently, and Peter looked up at him properly for the first time, almost surprised to see him sitting there. “What’s the emergency?”
@whumptober2019 Day 1: Shaky Hands
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur & Merlin
Words: 975
Warnings: Loss of consciousness, ambiguous ending
Synopsis: A routine trip gone awry is nothing new, but now Arthur’s life is on the line, and Merlin and the knights are running out of time. Merlin’s only option is to use magic, and if that doesn’t kill him, the knights might finish the job. Arthur!whump, Merlin!whump
–
Merlin doesn’t know what is happening, or what is attacking them, but every inch of his skin is tingling, and he is certain of two things.
Magic. Danger.
Another blast aimed towards him is deflected by Arthur leaping into its path, Merlin’s protests too late. The force of it sends them both flying backwards, and they are unconscious before they even hit the ground.
When he comes round, Merlin is not greeted by the sweet relief of confusion or memory loss. He startles awake suddenly, looking around frantically for his king.
“Merlin!” Gwaine cries, his voice relieved as he jogs over to him.
“Where’s Arthur?” Merlin asks, twisting around and trying to ignore the pain from his now aching back.
“He’s still out, but we’re just about ready to pack up and get back to Gaius…” Gwaine tries to reassure him, but Merlin is on his feet, not listening past the first three words. “…good that you’re back up, it’ll make it easier-”
Gwaine pauses as Merlin drops to his knees next to the king’s body, followed by an anguished moan. The king is white as snow, his eyes and lips tinged a greyish blue, and veins a deep purple against his skin. Ripping the layers off him, Merlin’s fears are confirmed when he sees the black tendrils creeping around Arthur’s heart.
Merlin knows instantly that they will not make it back to Gaius in time.
Are you fucking kidding me? This is so good. I’m just… in awe of how you took this prompt. It’s so prettily written and I love Merlin’s character and how, even facing losing all of his friends, his willing to sacrifice it all, including his own life, just to save Arthur.
@whumptober2019 Day 2: Explosion
Fandom: MCU
Pairing: Tony & Peter
Words: 999
Warnings: Explosion, injury
Synopsis: Tony should have known that Peter would never just stay put while there were people out there who needed help.
Huge thanks to my fave @rux-ian for the help in figuring out what to write for this one!
–
As a backpack flew in through the open window and skidded across the floor to a halt at his feet, Tony rolled his eyes. He’d thought the novelty of the web shooting thing might wear off eventually, but no, the kid was still going strong months later.
On cue, the glass doors to the balcony crashed open, and a whirlwind in the form of Peter Parker appeared in his living room. His arrival was nothing new; Peter dropped by almost every day after school, except for the times May forced him to socialise with his peers.
Today he was even more chaotic than usual though, stumbling into the room with one leg in his Spider-Man suit and one leg out, racing over to where his backpack had landed to scrabble around in it for something.
Tony sighed and held his arms out in an effort to slow Peter down, wincing a little as the movement tugged on his ribs.
“Easy spider,” Tony said gently, and Peter looked up at him properly for the first time, almost surprised to see him sitting there. “What’s the emergency?”
“What’s the- what’s the emergency?” Peter spluttered. “There’s a- there’s a huge office building on fire just a couple blocks down from here, and I figured you guys might need me! I raced here as soon as I heard, and I nearly came earlier, but Ned pointed out that I’ve already skipped Chemistry twice this week already, and-“
“You’ve skipped Chemistry twice this week?” Tony interrupted, his expression shifting from bemused to a frown in the space of a second.
“Uhh, that wasn’t an important detail,” Peter said quickly, brushing him off. “Anyway, the offices, that are on fire, I thought I could help get people out of the higher floors, you know, and-”
Tony made a zipping motion in mid-air, a technique he’d found to be very effective recently, and Peter stopped babbling, looking at him expectantly instead.
“Office fire’s handled, kid,” Tony reassured him, motioning to the TV behind Peter which, now he noticed it, was showing live coverage of the incident, including footage of the rest of the Avengers springing into action.
“Why aren’t you there?” Peter asked abruptly, and Tony raised an eyebrow.
“I had to call in sick,” he said dryly, and lifted the hem of his t-shirt to reveal thick bandages wrapped around his torso.
Peter’s eyes widened. “What the- Mr Stark, what happened? Wait. I need to go help the people out there, but once I’m done, I’ll come straight back, and you can tell me then, and also who I need to exact revenge on, and-”
“You’re not going anywhere,” Tony informed him, bracing himself for the argument. “Not to help out with this, nor to exact revenge on anyone.”
“Why?” Peter asked, suddenly looking wounded.
“Adults-only scene, kid. Parental supervision required, and besides, do you even meet the height requirement?”
Peter scowled, not finding the quip funny, and Tony had to stifle a laugh as he stared him out.
“Fine,” Peter huffed, stuffing his mask back into his backpack, and although Tony was surprised at how quickly he’d given in, he was relieved. He was tired enough without having to try and win an argument with a teenager.
“Look, go do your homework or something, like you normally do, and then we’ll head down to the workshop later?” Tony suggested as a peace offering. The kid shrugged, but dutifully slouched off in the direction of the office, and Tony settled back in to watch the news, needing to catch up after he’d rewound a shot of Cap getting hit in the face a few too many times. “And focus on Chemistry!”
Minutes went by suspiciously quietly. Peter was hopeless at doing homework cooped up in an office alone, and regularly wandered back in looking for a drink, a snack, a chat, or more often, all three at once. When he didn’t emerge for quarter of an hour, Tony narrowed his eyes.
After a brief moment of guilt, though he suspected it was probably not unfounded, Tony tapped his watch, hunting for the Spider-Man tracker he’d installed. Before he could pull it up though, several things happened at once.
Tony heard the explosion first, saw the plume of smoke billow up into the distance, and then the two second delay of the live news caught up, and he watched as the entire building went up in flames and started to collapse in on itself. A moment later, his watch lit up red with an emergency health warning for whoever was wearing the Spider-Man suit, and finally, his phone rang.
It didn’t take a genius to put two and two together, and Tony Stark was one of the brightest there was.
“Mr Stark-“
“I’m on my way, kid,” Tony said, his suit already flying into place around him as headed for the doors, even as his injuries screamed at him.
“Mr Stark, I’m so- I’m so sorry,” Peter said, his voice strained, and Tony cringed at the sound, leaping from the building before the suit was even fully assembled in his haste. “I thought I could- I was trying to- but then- and it came out of nowhere-“
“Where are you, Peter?” Tony asked, rounding the corner and taking in the sight of the ruined building in person. “Are you with anyone?”
“No, no, I managed to get everyone out of here,” Peter said reassuringly, as if in that moment, Tony were worried for anyone’s safety but the kid’s. “I was on the twentieth floor, but I fell quite a long way, and I-“
“What? You what?” Tony pressed, beginning an interior scan of what remained of the office.
“I fell into- on to something and I... I can’t really feel anything.”
Tony swore.
“Mr Stark,” Peter said, suddenly sounding far too young. “Mr Stark, I’m so sorry.”
“Doesn’t matter, Pete,” Tony said fiercely, dismissing the apology. “I’m coming for you.”
--
whumptober day two goes to my faves! challenging myself to keep each entry under 1k, but if there are any storylines you want to see expanded upon, i’ll be choosing up to four to write more for in november, although this particular entry may get a sequel for another whumptober prompt... hope you enjoy!
@whumptober2019 Day 1: Shaky Hands
Fandom: Merlin
Pairing: Arthur & Merlin
Words: 975
Warnings: Loss of consciousness, ambiguous ending
Synopsis: A routine trip gone awry is nothing new, but now Arthur’s life is on the line, and Merlin and the knights are running out of time. Merlin’s only option is to use magic, and if that doesn’t kill him, the knights might finish the job. Arthur!whump, Merlin!whump
--
Merlin doesn’t know what is happening, or what is attacking them, but every inch of his skin is tingling, and he is certain of two things.
Magic. Danger.
Another blast aimed towards him is deflected by Arthur leaping into its path, Merlin’s protests too late. The force of it sends them both flying backwards, and they are unconscious before they even hit the ground.
When he comes round, Merlin is not greeted by the sweet relief of confusion or memory loss. He startles awake suddenly, looking around frantically for his king.
“Merlin!” Gwaine cries, his voice relieved as he jogs over to him.
“Where’s Arthur?” Merlin asks, twisting around and trying to ignore the pain from his now aching back.
“He’s still out, but we’re just about ready to pack up and get back to Gaius...” Gwaine tries to reassure him, but Merlin is on his feet, not listening past the first three words. “...good that you’re back up, it’ll make it easier-”
Gwaine pauses as Merlin drops to his knees next to the king’s body, followed by an anguished moan. The king is white as snow, his eyes and lips tinged a greyish blue, and veins a deep purple against his skin. Ripping the layers off him, Merlin’s fears are confirmed when he sees the black tendrils creeping around Arthur’s heart.
Merlin knows instantly that they will not make it back to Gaius in time.
“Merlin, what is it? Do you know what did this?” Leon asks anxiously, as the rest of the knights crowd around.
“Magic,” Merlin whispers. Dark magic is coursing through Arthur’s whole being, and it terrifies him. “He’s been cursed. We need to save him, now."
“But without Gaius-” Percival begins, and Merlin shakes his head.
“Gaius can’t fix this,” Merlin says, running a hand over his face. “It’s... it’s strong magic. It will need magic to defeat it.”
“The king would never allow it,” Leon says instantly.
“And we’re in the middle of nowhere. There are no sorcerers out here, or at least, certainly none I would trust,” adds Gwaine.
Merlin closes his eyes briefly.
Gods, why had Arthur done this to him?
He’d always known that one day he would have to come clean, but he’d never imagined it like this. He’d wanted the moment to be grand, to help as many people as possible, to be worth the sacrifice. Instead, he would save Arthur alone, because his destiny has only ever been intertwined with one other’s, and besides, Arthur’s a selfish bastard.
Taking a deep breath, Merlin summons forth the power he has always fought so hard to suppress in the presence of the men around him, his heart breaking in the knowledge they would never look at him the same again.
“Do you trust me?” he asks, standing up and turning to face them all, his eyes glowing, burning.
They each recoil in different ways; Elyan and Percival somewhere between shock and surprise, Leon’s face displaying a hint of disgust, and Gwaine, the betrayal on Gwaine’s face hurts the most.
Leon is the first to draw his sword, and Merlin immediately holds his hands up in surrender.
“Please, let me help him. If I don’t try this, Arthur will surely die. If I do, I may die, but Arthur may live. And if I live...” Merlin pauses, and swallows. “If I live, I’ll come quietly.”
The knights stare at him, each of them torn as to what to do. Arthur would swear he wouldn’t want magic to heal him, but the kingdom couldn’t survive without him, and one servant was a small price to pay for the king’s life.
“What do you mean, you may die?” Gwaine asks, the first to break the silence.
Merlin looks at him sadly. “The magic... it’s in his heart. To remove it will take even stronger magic.”
“And you can do that?” Elyan asks sceptically, an eyebrow raised. “You?”
Merlin shrugs. “Probably.”
Leon narrows his eyes before sheathing his sword.
“Whatever has affected the king has clearly affected you too, Merlin. You’re talking nonsense. We need to get you both back to Gaius.”
Shaking his head in frustration, Merlin turns his back on them all, facing Arthur again, hands outstretched over his darkening chest. Behind him he can hear Gwaine muttering something about leaving him to it, Percival offering to wrestle him back to the castle if need be.
Merlin ignores them all and focuses.
Muttering under his breath, he starts trying to draw the magic out of Arthur, letting every ounce of his energy flow into his fingertips. Moments pass painfully slowly before Merlin realises that the darkness around Arthur’s heart is starting to fade, and the colour is returning to his cheeks.
He vaguely registers that his own hands are growing whiter, familiar purple threads beginning to creep down from his wrists, growing ever darker. Feeling himself falter, Merlin grits his teeth and redoubles his focus on Arthur, ignoring the physical pain it causes, the way the curse invades his body and leaves him feeling weak, and cold, and alone.
His hands are shaking beyond his control now, both of them now almost as black as Arthur’s chest had been. At the realisation his magic is working, Merlin lets out a feeble, half-relieved laugh.
Hearing the knights start to move towards him, and knowing he is about to give out anyway, Merlin sends a final surge of his magic towards Arthur, summoning all of the healing knowledge he possesses, and then he is spent, lowering his arms with his legs following suit. He is dimly aware that he doesn’t fall to the ground, but is lowered gently, that someone is talking to him, but he can’t hear them now.
Knowing he has done all he can to keep his king safe, Merlin drifts back into unconsciousness peacefully.
---
aaah, i’m going to attempt whumptober again this year! hoping i’ll have more success than last year. challenging myself to keep each entry under 1k, but if there are any storylines you want to see expanded upon, i’ll be choosing up to four to write more for in november. hope you enjoy!
I like doing those This or That games where you tag people, so I made this one up. Bold the ones that you prefer. I’ll go first!
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
Even if I don’t tag you, go ahead and do it if you want to!
I tag: @mypoorfaves @poor-sickies @bigwhumpus @whumpitgood @dontyoubleedoutonme
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper // collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
Broken ankle or Broken Wrist // Bruised Ribs or concussion // CPR or the heimlich // Falling off a Cliff or drowning // Shot or stabbed // broken nose or Broken Fingers // physical pain or emotional // Sickness or injuries // romantic caretakers or platonic // appendicitis or pneumonia // car accident or building collapse // sprained ankle via hiking or tortured by a whumper // collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes // Heart problems or ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee // crutches or sling // wheelchair or cane // broken bones or dislocated ribs
Hey, nice to hear from you again @i-blame-my-love-of-whump-on-ryan, even if you’re not quite back yet. We miss you <3 Thanks for the tag!
Broken ankle or Broken Wrist // Bruised Ribs or concussion // CPR or the heimlich // Falling off a Cliff or almost drowning // Shot or stabbed // broken nose or Broken Fingers // physical pain or emotional // Sickness or injuries // romantic caretakers or platonic // appendicitis or pneumonia // car accident or building collapse // sprained ankle via hiking or tortured by a whumper // collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes // Heart problems or ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee // crutches or sling // wheelchair or cane // tonsillectomy or appendectomy // broken bones or dislocated limbs
Tagging with no obligation: @sam-whump, @whumpathetic, @gonna-feel-that-tomorrow, @pythagoreanwhump, @whumpandbandaids and @thatsgonnaleaveamark
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or Ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs//
It was fun doing this. But how can you choose between physical or emotional pain?! If there is physical pain, thrn in my mind it must be followed by emotional pain or anxiety at least!!
Tagged by two of my fellow whumpers @straight-to-the-pain and @lurkingwhump I decided to give it a try! Enjoy this THIS OR THAT :)
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
Ahh we got it yes! Thank you!
I tag @castielamigos @whumpandbandaids @whumpster-dumpster and whoever wants to do it, it was fun but no obligation :))
Now finally I have a whump side blog! Yay! :) …so this is my first post on my new blog! I was tagged by @whumpywhumper , @whumpathetic , @quirkykayleetam and @clockworknightmares . Thanks for the tag! So here are my answers!
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
I tag @starry-night-whump , @tendertenebrosity , @waywardwhump , @untilthepainstarts , @endless-whump and @the-metalhead-chick
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
Broken ankle or broken wrist// Bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
tagging @imagination1reality0, @castielamigos-whump-side-blog and anyone else who wants to do it!
I already done it but who cares!! ;) …this is an opportunity for tagging new people!! :D …I tag @oops-all-whumping @maybeawhumpblog @t0rture-me @robins-whump @acewhumper @thoughtsonhurtandcomfort @killian-whump @justsomewhump @jarienn972 @endless-whump @thebluejayswhump
Broken ankle or broken wrist// bruised ribs or a concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling// wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
Broken ankle or broken wrist// bruised ribs or concussion// CPR or the heimlich// falling off a cliff or almost drowning// shot or stabbed// broken nose or broken fingers// physical pain or emotional// sickness or injuries// romantic caretakers or platonic// appendicitis or pneumonia// car accident or building collapse// sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper// collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes// heart problems or ruptured spleen// broken collarbone or broken knee// crutches or sling//wheelchair or cane// tonsillectomy or appendectomy// broken bones or dislocated limbs
I tag @friendlylocalwhumper @wildfaewhump @alllhurtnocomfort @whumpitywhumpwhump @spelldaggered @its-not-too-bad @killian-whump @silver-whump-mist
broken ankle or broken wrist // bruised ribs or concussion // CPR or the heimlich // falling off a cliff or almost drowning // shot or stabbed // broken nose or broken fingers // physical pain or emotional // sickness or injuries // romantic caretakers or platonic // appendicitis or pneumonia // car accident or building collapse // sprained ankle from hiking or tortured by a whumper // collapsing from exhaustion or collapsing from diabetes // heart problems or ruptured spleen // broken collarbone or broken knee // crutches or sling // wheelchair or cane // tonsillectomy or appendectomy // broken bones or dislocated limbs
tagging @straight-to-the-pain, @superwhumpage, @maybeawhumpblog, @hurtcomfortetc (sorry if anyone’s already been tagged!), and anyone else who wants to do this!
Hi i just wanted to pop in real quick and tell you that i adore the stuff you write and that it's one of the few things that i can read in one go without getting distracted! I just saw what you posted about your dog and i wanted to send some virtual hugs because it must be very hard to say goodbye to your dog after knowing them for more than 10 years. I hope it's an easy passing and that the fact that you gave this little animal a wonderful life with a loving family comforts you.
hello! this message almost made me cry, but in a good way!
firstly, thank you for your very kind words on my writing; that absolutely means the world to me, and i’m so glad you enjoy the silly sentences i string together and throw out into the world <3
secondly, thank you for the virtual hugs <3 they are much appreciated. and that’s a lovely sentiment, thank you so much.
a lil doggo update: she’s still going strong as of writing this! my lil fluffball fighter. sometimes she looks a lil tired, and i know we probably don’t have much longer left, but to look at her, you wouldn’t know anything was wrong. she still bounces around with the same energy, drools endlessly over chicken, and leaps from the floor into your arms faster than you can blink. i love her so much, and i’m just so happy that she’s doing okay - it’s all we want for her :)
so the merlin fic had to be paused again temporarily following my last update, because i received some bad news in my personal life, and things like work and this fucking heatwave got in the way a bit too, but i’m happy to report that it’s raining, god bless, so i absolutely intend to sit down tonight, draft the rest of the fic, and then hopefully re-draft tomorrow so it can be posted before my self-imposed deadline of end of july!
so, all being well, it’ll be done soon, and then i can finally let go of this one, and focus on other stuff, and writing in general!
(the bad news stuff is still bad, but i’m dealing with it.)
